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#ever since!!!!!! all alone!!! with no one but a devil to haunt and watch your every move !!!! aaaaAAAA

mcflymemes · 11 months

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PROMPTS FROM VARIOUS HORROR/SLASHER FILMS * assorted dialogue from scary movies i will never watch tbh :)

did you really call the police?

there is no death.

i told the others. they didn't believe me. you're all doomed.

i just can't take no pleasure in killing.

i don't really believe in motives.

there's just some things you gotta do. don't mean you have to like it.

if i concentrate hard enough, i can move things.

you must renounce this power. you must give it up.

there is something horrible happening in my house.

do you remember the thing you said on our wedding night?

you're going to die up there.

i've been afraid of storms ever since i was a little kid.

they're opening that place again?

at least i'm not afraid of ghosts.

my bed was shaking. i can't get to sleep.

you listen to me, you little bitch.

you sick fucks. you've seen one too many movies.

come on! it's gonna be a fun trip!

oh, that gun's no good.

you're such a sucker for it.

i've never sensed anything like it.

they die better that way.

you still haven't told me your name.

i was the killer!

somebody's there!

what are you doing out in this mess?

that's the last goddamn hitchhiker i ever pick up.

if i have any more fun today, i don't think i'm gonna be able to take it!

i don't think any of you have any idea of just how nasty what you did really was.

the devil exists. god exists. and for us, as people, our very destiny hinges upon which one we elect to follow.

you're doomed! you're all doomed!

what's your favorite scary movie?

shut your mouth!

hold me. please hold me.

you damn fool! you ruined the door!

i was at the slaughterhouse.

a second body was found in a ditch near the perimeter of the cemetery.

there's no need to do that.

what's that stench?

you're not even going to reprimand them? no punishment?

please help me!

you can't just let them kill me!

you never paid any attention!

i'll do anything!

sin never dies.

oh, that's blood all right.

you have a lot of spirits in here, but there is one i'm most worried about because it is so hateful.

are you alone in the house?

what an excellent day for an exorcism.

it knows what scares you. it has from the very beginning. don't give it any help, it knows too much already.

the power of christ compels you.

there's someone in this fucking room!

next time i catch anybody over there, i'm gonna have to run them in.

they're all gonna laugh at you!

we keep everything locked in here. feel free to look around.

hear that?

i'm the devil. now kindly undo these straps.

is there someone inside you?

don't go anywhere.

talk louder, i can't hear you!

you already cut me too deep! i think i'm dying here!

you fuckin' hit me with the phone, dick!

oh my god, i thought you were dead.

we all go a little mad sometimes.

this is the moment where the supposedly dead killer comes back to life for one last scare.

don't call me that!

you wanna get us killed!

come on, there's something you're not telling me.

you'll never come back again.

wanna see my trick shot? it's even better.

his body was never recovered from the lake after he drowned.

help me tie this around my waist.

you've never done this before.

when you hear it, you're gonna think we're insane.

it did that to your face?

everything you see in here is either haunted, cursed, or has been used in some kind of ritualistic practice.

watch it, you stupid shit.

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dittobooty · 8 months

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I haven't written a fic in at least 8 years but a really good AU does something to a man so have this little ficlet I wrote in like 15 minutes and didn't even bother to read back over for mistakes and don't even have a title. I just didn't feel like drawing a whole comic for this okay? This is inspired by @charliethechandelure's Weird Summer AU. Hopefully it's not too messy, enjoy.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

The news about Pedro was only given to them after everything was said and done in Wano. Franky sobbed for the boy they had only known one summer. A tear sprang to Robin’s eye and she silently wiped it away. That night they would grieve in each other’s company but on the Grand Line there’s no time to properly mourn a loss before you have to keep going. So they decided after that night to accept his passing and move on. That was until Egghead brought them back in the company of two people they never thought they’d be close to again. The truce with Lucci and Kaku was uneasy but necessary. To annoyance of Lucci, Franky was as boisterous and friendly as ever, as though their circumstances had never ripped the pairs apart. It wasn’t until after they had dealt with York and the Seraphim that there was a moment of peace to truly reconnect but, more importantly, to break the news to them. “May I speak with you both for a moment?” Robin asked, calmly approaching the two. Kaku barely remembered anything from the time that they had spent together that summer. He was so young at the time that all he could recall were like snapshots in a hazy dream, the feelings remaining more than any actual events. Lucci on the other hand could remember everything but he never spoke of it, almost as though it was a point of shame in his life. “What do you want?” Lucci replied, never even looking in her direction. “It’s Pedro, he…” “He’s dead isn’t he?” He responded with a voice that felt like ice. “Yes…” This was how it was on the Grand Line. People came and left your life regularly. People died regularly. Kaku struggled to remember the boy that they were speaking about, finally recalling the young leopard mink. He instinctively traced his fingers along the beads of the now too small friendship bracelet that he still kept on his wrist and watched Lucci for any reaction but there was none. “Sorry for your loss” Kaku decided to say. He supposes it was his loss too but it doesn’t feel right to claim it since Pedro was a ghost to him long before his actual death. Robin nodded. “Thank you” she said quietly before leaving them alone. Lucci was always a hard character to read, even for Kaku who had known him for so long, but there were always small signs. Right now the man was looking down with a slightly furrowed brow and a clenched jaw. This was the most grief he’d allow himself. Kaku wonders if the young mink haunted Lucci long before this moment given his devil fruit. There was no way of knowing, but if the loss hurt him, he would be there to help him heal.

#one piece #egghead spoilers #whole cake spoilers #pedro #franky #nico robin #rob lucci #kaku #weird summer au #I just wanna hurt people the way I hurt lmao #thank you for this au I'm having a good time with it and hope you don't mind all the stuff I've been making lately #fic #ficlet #idk what to tag this I don't write fics #probably should have got somebody to read this over before I posted it but fuck it we ball

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snowbellewells · 6 months

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Self Promo Sunday: "I Put A Spell On You (Because You're Mine)"

This mini-MC really belongs more with the October/spooky postings probably, but I wanted to get it in before I started with my November and Thanksgiving re-runs. I've always been pleased with how this late season 4 canon divergent fic turned out, and I'm trying to gain it a little more love and a few more eyes to see it. It was written right after the 4b episode "Sympathy for the DeVil" (so 4x17? 4x18?) and picks up pretty much where that episode left off. My idea for how the Darkness would lure Emma, and even how it would manifest, was way different than the way the show took it, so this is now definitely canon divergent from that point. If you read this again, or if you're seeing it for the first time, I hope you'll enjoy!

Summary: He's been watching the changes for weeks now, worrying about her well-being and the demons she's fighting... When it all goes crazy, will he be able to help her step back from the brink? (A 4B chaptered story, taking off somewhere near 4x18, and carrying on from there. CS, obviously and all the way)

***Also available from the beginning on AO3 or ff.net, if either of those are your preference...***

by: @snowbellewells

i. darkness creeps in

The deepening purplish circles under her eyes have been growing ever more pronounced, worrying him for weeks now. She is both anxious and jittery, yet bone-weary and weighed down by the cares upon her shoulders. Emma Swan surely thinks that she has hidden her stress and fatigue well, but to one who knows her (and he does know her – as well as she will allow anyone to) the strain is beginning to show.

When they part ways at night now, she tilts her face up to his, grinning a warm, secretive smile and awaiting his gentle kiss, and he tucks her hair behind her ear, cradles her cheek in his hand, profoundly happy to steal a few moments alone with her. Yet, he also finds himself near to biting a hole in his tongue to keep back his words of caution for her, his fear that she is pushing herself too hard, too far, too soon. He cannot risk driving a wedge between them or making her run – not now. She is already keeping her distance from her parents, no longer staying with them in the loft. He has gone back to his ship since the Jolly’s return to him, and so has offered her the use of his room at Granny’s – paid for the month in doubloons that the old woman bit to check for authenticity, then grinned conspiratorially, accepted, and ferretted away in some hidden pocket of her skirts. However, he wonders if Emma paces the floor all night, or haunts the library seeking answers with an equally sleepless Belle, or simply drives aimlessly for hours; whatever it is she does, he can plainly see that she is not resting.

Killian Jones is not a man afraid of much on this wide earth’s surface, but Emma turning her back on him now and walking away is a haunting phantasm that never truly leaves his mind. And it is no longer simply the pain he knows he will feel, but the fact that she needs his support more than ever. He is more afraid for her safety and her sanity than he has ever been, and he does not know what method to try.

Those worries and fears all come to a head as he skids to the edge of the cliff face, behind a stunned, crushed-looking Mary Margaret and David, where he can clearly see Emma and Henry clinging tightly to one another frantically; panting, near tears, and much too close to the drop-off, but at first glance seeming whole and unharmed. He does not know where the rotten banshee who tried taking Henry has gotten to, has missed the entire showdown due to what he knows must have been Gold’s trickery and machination with the shell and Henry’s voice. He wanted to be there and have his Swan’s back, but he feels intense relief to see that she seems to have done just fine on her own.

A rush of air brushes along his skin as Regina charges up behind him, nearly bowling them all over as she calls out her son’s name in a voice harsh with desperation, clearly having been slowed by a similar deception to the one which fooled him. Killian merely steps back so that she can see her boy has been saved and reach him.

It is only as Regina falls to her knees on Henry’s other side, pulls him into her arms, and Emma shifts back slightly, that he is hit by a jolt of fear upon getting a good first look at her face. The reddened irritation beneath her lovely eyes has taken on an even more pronounced hue, making her look angry and more than a bit unhinged. He takes a weak step forward, wishing to soothe, to comfort…but then she leans to peer over the edge. Killian realizes in a flash that Cruella must have gone off the precipice, that the villainess is truly finished, no longer a threat. However, he is frozen in place, a chill of foreboding running down his spine, when Emma turns in his direction once more.

Her gaze is unfocused, not resting on any of them, but turned inward as if contemplating what she thinks of Cruella’s demise. Killian’s heart does not truly splinter until he sees a small, ill-suited little grin of satisfaction sneak over Emma’s lips…almost as if she is pleased with what she has done.

And he knows. Knows with the sinking certainty of one who has crawled back out of the pit and still clearly remembers the darkness’ pull, that something inside of his beautiful Emma has turned. A bit of his Savior’s shining, bright light has gone out.

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @hollyethecurious @artistic-writer @winterbaby89 @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @resident-of-storybrooke @scientificapricot @tomeandflickcorner @ohmakemeahercules @stahlop @anmylica @justanother-unluckysoul @sotangledupinit @booksteaandtoomuchtv @xsajx @lfh1226-linda @jonesfandomfanatic @motherkatereloyshipper @eastwesthomeisbest @xarandomdreamx @kazoosandfannypacks @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @drowned-dreamer @goforlaunchcee @shireness-says @ineffablecolors

#self promo sunday #cs ff #ouat canon divergent 4b ff #i put a spell on you (because you're mine)#cs five shot #cs post ep canon divergence

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vellichorom · 11 months

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I don’t know if someone has asks this before, but what is your favorite ending from The Stanley Parable?

nobody's actually asked me that before, so thank YOU for being the first!

i think there's something to like in EVERY ending, so this was. hard. HOWEVER, my's indisputable, all-time-favorite, you-can-quote-this-in-my-biography TSP ending is... 🥁

The Countdown Ending.

( closely followed by the elevator / confusion / apartment ( w/ the bucket ) / any games ending / the vent ending / the sequel/new content ending + pretty much any ending regarding the sequel )

& let me tell you why!

this ending HITS in EVERY way.

this ending is such an immediate SWERVE from what a newer player might expect from the game, especially since THIS ending stems from one of the first you can get just by playing as you're told to. in fact, though dependent on how one chooses to play, this could be your introduction to the underlying plot of what's ACTUALLY going on here, & it's very much- at least to me, the best way TO introduce it all.

you do the menial thing of deviating from the path at the last minute, devastatingly deciding on stanley's behalf that he wants to take control of everything, & you get RIPPED TO SHREDS for it, the world unravelling at your feet, you are punished & laughed at for panicking; you are CHASTISED for trying to act on your own accord, first treated like a sin ( because of the implications of stanley activating the facility ) & then having it rubbed in your face that you don't even HAVE control & your choices seemingly don't matter.

& the best part? new players wouldn't know this, but the seasoned ones would: the narrator is JUST as helpless as you are beyond being able to direct the game. it's chilling to figure that, look back, & simply realize.

speak of the devil; this introduces a WHOLE new light to your trusty narrator, him going out of his way to teach you a lesson, executing your character, explicitly, DELIBERATELY making you sit there for every painstaking second of this ending - rather than nullifying it to a cutscene, for his own enjoyment in milking your horror, at that.

i don't think we talk about that enough. & i don't think we realize how shocking that must be to someone just getting into this game blind.

i remember LOSING MY MIND seeing this ending for the first time, & to this DAY i'm still chilled each time i watch it, especially the more i think about the ever-expanding list of implications.

BEYOND said list of implications, as well as the plot itself, the environment & visual setup GETS me; running around a darkening facility, desperately trying to find anything to reverse the clock while everything starts shutting & breaking down around you. you are alone, nobody's coming to help you & you are assured of this fact SO many times over. everything is a reminder that you have a limited time left to play. oh my god i'm dying thinking about it

not to mention, you've got red lights of doom swirling around the room, harmonizing with the music- WHICH HEY, I COULD TOUT THIS AS MY FAVORITE ENDING BASED ON THE MUSIC ALONE. the ' countdown ' track is DAMNING, a haunting melody that feels like you're waltzing with fate itself, glimmers of hope in the belting choir, only to fail & die by it's unforgiving, cold hands. you are aweing at the scene as the helpless player, & the music will highlight that MERCILESSLY. it's so good. that's one of my favorite tracks in a game ever.

...........& yeah the narrator's growl here is something but i feel like this ending gets hyped up TOO much just for that / the narrator being seen as wildly attractive for trying to kill you. YES, he is, we know, that's not the point though, i'm gayer for the music

I COULD GO. on & on, but I'm going to stop myself here, because I think you get the idea.

& i think the funniest thing here is, i love the countdown ending for being such a massive nail in the coffin of the narrative here, but the rest of my favorite endings are much more silly, dare i say domestic, even. my range. is immense. feel free to ask about those too if you like!

BUT YEAHHH i really like the countdown ending. 10 cookies out of 9!

#anonymous #inbox #TSP blogging #ough it's now i realize how little i actually get to talk about the base game.... u should ask me more opinions about it hee #ALSO IT'S SO HARD TO PICK A FAVORITE ANYTHING IN THIS GAME BECAUSE I LIKE EVERYTHING ABOUT IT #but for you i must try <33 #dances cutely as i give silly opinionated analysis

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pelideswhore · 2 years

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SONGS FOR HELEN OF TROY

seventeen — marina & the diamonds

Used to be a major scale, but the melody went stale […] Could never tell you what happened the day I turned seventeen. The rise of a king and the fall of a queen. Oh, seventeen, seventeen. Oh, you were embarrassed of me because I used my tongue freely. Bet you wished I couldn’t speak, ‘cause when I do, you know I tell you why you appear weak.

ivy — taylor swift

My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand, taking mine but it's been promised to another. [...] He's gonna burn this house to the ground. How's one to know? I'd live and die for moments that we stole, on begged and borrowed time. So tell me to run, or dare to sit and watch what we’ll become, and drink my husband’s wine.

all you wanna do — aimee atkinson (six)

I think we can all agree I’m the ten amongst these threes and ever since I was a child, I’d make the boys go wild. […] All you wanna do, baby, is touch me. When will enough be enough? See, all you wanna do, all you wanna do, baby, is squeeze me, don’t care if you don’t please me. Bite my lip and pull my hair as you tell me I’m the fairest of the fair.

easy on me — adele

You can’t deny how hard I’ve tried to put you both first but now I give up. Go easy on me, baby. I was still a child, didn’t get the chance to feel the world around me. I had no time to choose what I chose to do, so go easy on me. I had good intentions and the highest hopes, but I know right now that probably doesn’t even show.

farewell wanderlust — the amazing devil

Goodbye to all my darkness, there’s nothing here but light. Adieu to all the faceless things that sleep with me at night. This here is not make-up, it’s a porcelain tomb, and this here is not singing, it’s just screaming in tune because farewell wanderlust, you’ve been ever so kind. You brought me through this darkness but you left me here behind. So long to the person you begged me to be, he’s down, he’s dead, and now take a good long look at what you’ve done to me.

flowers — eva noblezada (hadestown)

What I wanted was to fall asleep, close my eyes and disappear. Like a petal on the stream, like a feather in the air […] Flowers, I remember fields of flowers, soft beneath my heels. I remember someone, someone by my side—turned his face to mine, and I turned away, into the shade. You, the one I left behind, if you ever walk this way, come and find me, lying in the bed I made.

tango dancer — gelsey bell (ghost quartet)

I used to run in the sand, campfire stars in the distance, and I’d gaze into the darkness, and wonder about the void. And I’m haunted by that memory of who I used to be—so gleeful, so blank, so ready. I was empty then, and I’m empty now, but it’s not the same at all […] I’d stay up all night long and all the boys would fall over, oh, how dazzling I could be. But the magic is gone, my joy got bloated and sick.

memory — elaine paige (cats)

Memory, all alone in the moonlight. I can smile at the old days, I was beautiful then. I remember the time I knew what happiness was. Let the memory live again. Every street lamp seems to beat, a fatalistic warning […] Daylight, I must wait for the sunrise. I must think of a new life and I mustn’t give in. When the dawn comes, tonight will be a memory too and a new day will begin.

speechless — naomi scott (aladdin)

Here comes a wave meant to wash me away, a tide that is taking me under. Swallowing sand, I’ve got nothing to say, my voice drowned out in the thunder. But I won’t cry, and I won’t start to crumble. Whenever they try to shut me or cut me down, I won’t be silenced. You can’t keep me quiet […] Written in stone, every rule, every word. Centuries old and unbending. ‘Stay in your place, better seen and not heard’, but now that story’s ending.

girls against god — florence + the machine

What a thing to admit, that when somebody looks at me with real love, I don’t like it very much. It kinda feels like I’m being crushed. Is that something you’d like to discuss? […] And in my darkest fantasies, I’m the picture of passivity, waiting for you side of stage, suppressing all my private rage, but as my sister said, I’d probably last six days. […] But it’s good to be alive, crying into cereal at midnight. Oh, God, you’re gonna get it. You’ll be sorry that you messed with us.

exile — taylor swift

I can see you starin’, honey, like he’s just your understudy, like you’d get your knuckles bloody for me. Second, third and hundredth chances. Balancin’ on breaking branches. Those eyes add insult to injury. I think I’ve seen this film before, and I didn’t like the ending. I’m not your problem anymore, so who am i offending now! You were my crown, now I’m in exile seeing you out.

long story short — taylor swift

The knife cuts both ways; if the show fits, walk in it ‘til your high heels break. And I fell from the pedestal, right down the rabbit hole. Long story short, it was a bad time. Pushed from the precipice, clung to the nearest lips. Long story short, it was the wrong guy. Now I’m all about you, I’m all about you. Actually, I always thought I must look better in the rear view [...] Long story short, it was a bad time. Long story short, I survived.

dream girl evil — florence + the machine

Oh, did you miss me? Walk on water just to kiss me? Oh, come and get me, drag me out and destroy me. I’ve been expecting you, I’m ready. Deliver me that bad news, baby. Am I your dream girl? You think of me in bed but you could never hold me and like me better in your head. Make me evil, then I’m an angel instead—at least you’ll sanctify me when I’m dead […] Did I disappoint you? Did mummy make you sad? Do I at least remind you of every girl that made you mad?

broken glass — rachel platten

I’m on a highway full of red lights, I’ve lost so many long nights, felt words that cut like knives. I know they’re gonna say what they wanna […] I have been patient, but I’m not waiting anymore. I’m gonna dance on broken glass, broken glass. I’m gonna make that ceiling crash, that ceiling crash. So what? Still got knives in my back. So what? So I’m tied to the tracks, yeah, I’m gonna dance on broken glass.

trust in me — scarlett johansson (the jungle book)

Shut your eyes, trust in me. You can sleep, safe and sound, knowing I am around. Slip into silent slumber, sail on a silver mist. Slowly but surely, your senses will seize to resist. Just relax, be at rest, like a bird in a nest. Trust in me, just in me.

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riley1cannon · 7 months

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A get to know me :)

I was tagged by @superalphabatman; thank you kindly. :)

Rules: name 1 of your favorite movie, character, animal, drink, song, season, book, color, hobby

Movie: Of all time? No, I shall follow @superalphabatman's example, and pick something suited to the season, and that something would be... No, it must be declared a tie: The Haunting (1963) -- if the "Whose hand was I holding?" moment alone doesn't keep you awake, you are a stronger woman than I will ever be; and, a little less spooky, but heaps of fun, The Uninvited (1944).

Character: I will take the "of all time" route on this one, because that makes it way easier, and that would be ... Sherlock Holmes. I've been reading the stories since I was ten and they haven't grown stale yet.

Animal: I like to say I love cats and dogs equally, but honesty compels me to admit that cats have a bit of an edge in my heart. I've never actually had a dog of my own, though -- Prince was my dad's dog, Choo Cho was my brother's -- so perhaps the balance would shift a bit if I ever have one of my own. I do covet Mikey, a neighbor's Irish terrier.

Drink: Tea -- hot, cold, assorted varieties (except green; tried that once and had a terrible reaction -- jittery, heart racing, anxious; just awful, stuff's toxic).

Song: Johnny Cash's rendition of Wayfaring Stranger has been stuck in my head lately, so I will go with that. (And I was profoundly reminded of why, after my dad passed, I couldn't listen to Cash again for the longest time. There's some quality in his voice that is so like my dad's.)

Season: Autumn, of course, and long before it was a trendy aesthestic of the pumpkin spice crowd. It's the only 100% comfortable time of year. A little crisp and cool? Grab a sweater! Go for a walk and listen to the fallen leaves rustle. Watch a breeze whip them up and send them whirling along the path like little, leafy dust devils. Everything about it is perfect, right down to the first hint of winter on its way.

Book: Impossible to choose, so I will return to Sherlock and say The Hound of the Baskervilles. I could probably recite it from memory at this point but it still delights.

Color: There's a certain shade of green, dark-ish, that suits me quite nicely. Can't find it on the color charts, though.

Hobby: Reading, I suppose. I've never quite understood the concept. There are a lot of things I enjoy doing, but it's difficult to think of any of them as being a hobby. That always makes me think of people obsessed with just this one thing, like bird watching or golf, and that's not me.

Tagging: @neoretrobibliomartini-x, @misscrawfords,@thevintagetiger, and anyone else who wants to do this.

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queeenpersephone · 1 year

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Hello gorgeous!!!!! Just popping by to request your take (headcanon, drabble, anything) on peace, maybe specifically “the devil’s in the details but you got a friend in me” for ironwidow? Hope you have a great day!

hi yourself!! this is a great prompt and i'm so happy to get around to it.

peace

ironwidow || angst, hurt comfort || post-cacw

(natasha defends tony and, in doing so, reveals something that has been haunting her since they got together)

Natasha can tell Tony's nervous. She's nervous too, although she would never show it like her boyfriend currently is.

This is the meeting that will make or break the Avengers. If they can get the backing of T'Challa, have Wakanda on their side, they stand a chance against Ross and the UN with the Accords. Natasha has been meeting with T'Challa alone for weeks now, gaining his respect and that of his inner circle when she helped him handle a coup in his country right after she had reunited with her sister. Her sister who remains in Wakanda, where Shuri is helping her find more Black Widows in thanks for their help.

So, T'Challa likes Natasha. Maybe even considers her an ally. However, Natasha is not sure the King of Wakanda is a big fan of Tony Stark. And, a few minutes into their meeting, she hates to be proven right.

T'Challa watches Tony carefully as he responds to their proposal of reframing the Accords. "I have my reservations," he admits.

Tony shrugs his concerns off. Natasha bites down a grimace. She knows Tony is serious despite his demeanor, but T'Challa doesn't know Tony near as well as she. His use of humor in tense situations is an obvious coping mechanism to her, but to T’Challa, it seems like an irreverence to the seriousness of their meeting. "Name 'em."

T'Challa sighs. "Miss Romanoff - Natasha - is very deliberate and thoughtful. She is the reason I have faith in this venture. You, Mr. Stark, are impulsive and careless. From what I have seen of you over the years, you are not well suited to the diplomacy and compromise required for going up against the UN." He pauses, leaning back as he watches them for a reaction. "This will not be solved with fists or robots."

Tony flinches at the reference to Ultron, but before he can respond, Natasha stands up, leaning over the table.

"We came to the table in good faith, Your Majesty," she retorts. "And instead of looking for a solution to our mutual problem, you insult my partner without provocation."

Tony sighs. "Nat, he has a-"

"No," she cuts him off, glaring at him until he physically sinks down in his seat. "No one gets to talk to you like that, especially someone who doesn't know a thing about things you've done, the sacrifices you've made."

T'Challa holds up his hands. "Miss Romanoff, perhaps I-"

"No, you're going to listen to me, and listen well," she says, knowing every word that she is about to say is important, is the difference between a team and no team. A deeper part of her acknowledges that it's also going to shift her relationship with Tony, but she doesn't care. He deserves the words she's about to say. "Tony Stark is the best man I've ever known. He is selfless, kind, courageous, and wise. I count myself lucky to be his teammate because I know it's certainly more than I deserve. He gives me hope for a better world."

She can't look down at Tony, so instead she stares down T'Challa, who is looking more and more apologetic by the minute. "I am sorry," he says quietly. "Any individual that you speak so highly of must be truly remarkable."

She nods firmly, inhaling at the feel of Tony's hand on her hand on the table. "Excuse me," she says, ripping her hand away and making for the door.

It only takes Tony ten minutes to find her. It would be embarrassing if she didn't tell FRIDAY to tell him where she was. It's almost pathetic the way she wants to be around him all the time, but (and she can admit it only to herself, at this point) she's too in love to care how she appears to him. Only to him.

She's sitting against the wall outside the Compound, listening to the sounds of nature around her. She feels more than sees Tony come outside, not saying a word as he slides down next to her.

“T’Challa apologized again,” he says. “He’s ready to begin the strategy meeting as soon as we’re ready.” She doesn’t respond, and he picks at the grass they are sitting on. “It was clever, of course,” he says, a surprisingly vulnerable note in his voice, “to defend me like that. How’d you know that would get him to agree to help us?”

“That wasn’t why I said those things.”

“Oh, come off it, Nat.”

She freezes, then turns to look him directly in the eyes. He sounds confident, but his hands are shaking and he won’t meet her gaze. “Do you think that little of me, Tony,” she says mildly.

He starts in surprise. “God, no, Nat - I think the world of you. I just - I know who you are. You don’t have to lie to me - I accept every part of you, including the triple agent. Please believe that.”

She turns, taking his hands in hers and squeezing tightly. “Then believe this. I meant every word. You are - stop it - the best man I know. And I know I can give you happiness sometimes, Tony, but sometimes I wonder if you know what you’re getting into with me.”

Tony laughs in her face, but when she flinches, he grips her hands tighter. “No - I mean.” He stops, breathes. “Okay. Then tell me what I’m getting into. Tell me, and I’ll tell you why none of it matters because I love you and you’re a hero and I still can’t believe you deign to sleep next to me every night.”

She exhales, and they both pretend not to see tears escaping from the corners of her eyes. He brings her hands to his mouth, then presses them against his closed eyes, wetness coating her knuckles. “You’re... you’re so brave, and kind, and wonderful, Tony. This whole situation has been... it’s been very hard. I thought we - the team - were stronger than all of this. If you hadn’t kissed me on that plane coming back from Siberia - forced us to forgive each other - helped me find Yelena... I would have become that lonely spy again. You saved me.”

He laughs again, but this time it is relieved and breathless and so deeply content that her heart feels like it’s about to burst. “Natasha Romanoff, you are so selfless, empathetic, and brilliant. I wouldn’t have made it out of Siberia without you, coming for me even when I was an unbelievable ass to you after Rhodey’s fall. Everything I’ve done right since Thor’s skinny reindeer brother rained hell down on New York is because I’ve followed your example.”

Natasha can’t help her watery smile. “God, you’re such a dramatic liar.”

Tony reaches for her jaw, cupping it and bringing her closer. “Shut up, Natalie, I’m trying to confess my undying love here. I’m allowed to exaggerate a little; they’re gonna make a lot of movies about this moment in mmfh-”

She kisses him to shut him up and maybe for some other very small reasons that exist only in her heart, climbing into his lap. They kiss for another few minutes before she rests her head on his shoulder. He holds her close, one hand combing through her hair.

There’s a long silence, then: “I can never give you peace,” she murmurs into his neck.

His chest vibrates as he lets out a soft chuckle. “Oh yeah? Then what am I feeling right now?”

#ironwidow #tonynat #ironwidow writing #marvel #marvel writing #tony x natasha #natasha x tony #my writing #answered #anonymous #hope you liked this one anon!#i will be working my way through ironwidow prompts #forever #but i will never be mad about it #t'challa is amazing don't come for me #i love him too

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nenyabusiness · 1 year

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8 TV Shows

Tagged by @marimosalad and @iamstartraveller776 , thank you guys!

Rules: list eight TV shows for your followers to get to know you better

Rings of Power is a given, so I’m going to go outside the box here. Some of these shows aren’t The Best Shows Ever when it comes to objective quality, but I’ve chosen them because they’re important to me personally. I mean, getting to know me better was the point, right? Here we go.

- Attack on Titan

I 19 when Attack on Titan was released, and I had left my anime phase behind me. I was out and done and free, but then one of my best friends told me that there was this show I had to check out. I said no. He insisted. I said no. I went over to his house, he put on the show, he literally grabbed my wrist and pulled me to the couch and said “I AM NOT GETTING OBSESSED WITH THIS ALONE”, and that was it. The soundtrack hit me like a punch in the gut, and just like that, I was into anime again. I have yet to see a first episode of any show in any genre that hits you as hard as Attack on Titan. The premise (what if there were giants outside of our safe realm that are just a couple of really tall walls away from annihilating the human race?) is an odd one, but it quickly develops into something way deeper; exploring trauma, corruption, and how there is no “good” side in a war. No one is safe is safe in this show, and you will cry. Music is always important to me, and holy hell, some of the soundtracks of AoT always, and I mean always, give me literal goosebumps. It’s also special to me because I still watch every new episode with that same friend who forced me to watch the first one. It’s been ten years, we’re now reaching our 30s, but we still watch this show together.

- Jessica Jones

Season 1, to be specific. This one goes on the list because it has one of the most terrifying villains I’ve ever seen. Jessica Jones, an alcoholic wreck (and a trauma-survivor, as we later find out), is a private investigator with superpowers: strength and fast healing. Does she use these superpowers for good? No. She doesn’t want to be a hero. When our antagonist Kilgrave (played by David Tennant, my beloved), shows up in town, she’s forced to face the life she’s tried so hard to leave behind. Kilgrave has the power of mind control, which means that if he tells you to do something, you will do it, even if the act harms yourself or those you love. It’s a terrifying power, and he’s so damn good at using it. Even when we reach the end of the season, you’re still not sure if the good guys are going to win. Even at his lowest, Kilgrave always feels so… invincible. The final showdown between him and Jessica still sends shivers down my spine when I think about it. That final moment of their last interaction haunts me and makes me want to improve my own writing so I can one day create something that hits that hard.

- Love Between Fairy and Devil

Now we’re heading into C-drama. The premise is silly—the “devil”, a powerful demon who once conquered the entire world of the realm of the gods, is accidentally freed by a weak little fairy after centuries of imprisonment. Here’s when the delightful Enemies to Lovers aspect kicks in: they end up bound to each other in a way that links her mental and physical health to him. If she gets hurt, he gets hurt, which forces this infamously powerful conqueror to become a protector of a innocent little cinnamon roll of a fairy in order to protect himself. Neither of them is happy about this at all, but since this is an ETL, that’s obviously followed by an “at first”. The development of their relationship is sweet, surprisingly deep, and has the perfect pacing. The soundtrack is amazing, which is always an important aspect to me. This one makes the list because if I were to write an original ETL story, this is the kind of relationship development I would like to achieve. It’s perfect.

- The Good Place

One of my go-to shows when I want to watch something that I know will make me laugh. Elanor, our protagonist, is a terrible person, and when she dies, she ends up in heaven “by accident”. As the story develops, it turns out that nothing is what it seems, and suddenly you’re evaluating ethical dilemmas and learning Socrates’ theories and you’re enjoying it. It’s an ensemble show, and the characters are absolutely ridiculous but so damn lovable. The show also makes you think. You’re forced to think about your own morality, and reflect on your own worldview and the kind of ethics you apply to it. This show is pretty crazy that way. Hilarious and deep as fuck.

- Arcane

When people say “no League of Legends show had any business being this good”, they’re 100% right. The animation is gorgeous and can be analyzed for days because of all the symbolism. It’s an ensemble show, and the characters have so many layers that it’s impossible to decide whether they’re good or bad. They’re all different nuances of gray, with their own agendas and easily understandable motivations for everything they do. If you started watching it but never made it past the time skip, then for the love of god, go back. You need to see this plot unravel. (Great music. Always important for me.)

- Brooklyn 99

Another feelgood, go-to show for me. It always makes me laugh. In this case, I think it’s also worth mentioning that we have a canonically gay, black character who is not defined by that whatsoever. It has obviously affected his life, but when you think of Captain Holt, the first thought that pops up is not his sexuality. He’s the perfect example of a well-written LGBTQ+ character, and for me, a bisexual woman, this is obviously important. We need more characters like Captain Holt (and later Rosa, who comes out as bisexual). This is what good representation looks like.

- Game of Thrones

I don’t know if it even needs saying, but I’m obviously talking about the seasons that still followed GRRM’s plotline from the books. This show, in the beginning, had a similar appeal as Attack on Titan. No character is good or bad (except some outliers that fall pretty irredeemably on the evil spectrum), and no one is safe. I’d say this might be the first grim-dark high fantasy to ever manage to break out of the nerds-only space, and it left a permanent mark on pop culture as a whole. I remember running out of episodes around the Red Wedding, so I obviously ran straight to the books, even though I generally don’t have the patience for high fantasy. (BOOK CERSEI APOLOGIST FOREVER). Something that makes this show special for me is that I watched it with my dad. It was our thing, and it still makes me happy to think about how we used to make room in our daily lives just to make sure we could watch the show together. Also, the soundtrack is out of this world. “The Light of the Seven” is, in my opinion, Ramin Djawadi’s greatest piece of work (though it does share that first place with the Westworld version of “Paint it Black”).

- Death Note

Let’s open at the close with another anime. When I first watched Death Note, I was too young to understand half of it (English is my second language), but I still fell in love with it. I mean… it’s Death Note. You can’t compare it to any other show. The premise (what would you do if you found a notebook that killed anyone whose name was written in it?) is almost as bizarre as Attack on Titan’s, but it’s intriguing right from the start. I, like most people, obviously fell for the dynamic between Light and L; the genius high school student who decides to use the book to rid the world of evil, and L, the genius detective who’s taken on the task of trying to stop a mass-murderer who is clearly not playing by the rules of mere mortals. Most people consider Walter White as the perfect example of an anti-hero (a protagonist with villainous character traits), but he’s no Yagami Light. The show makes us root for this guy, and for L. Their war of intellect is insanely fascinating to watch, and it constantly makes you go, “yeah, this show is smarter than me”. If you haven’t seen this anime, watch it. The mental battles between these two geniuses seriously get your adrenaline pumping. To this day, people are still discussing what this show was actually about. Ethics? The social issues of Japan? The consequences of hubris? You can rewatch it and reach a completely different conclusion from your first watch, and then rewatch it again and see a new point of view. Oh, and the music is good. Obviously. (DO NOT WATCH THE NETFLIX ADAPTATION. THEY MISUNDERSTOOD THE ENTIRE PREMISE AND FUCKED IT UP. DO NOT WATCH IT. DO NOT WATCH IT.)

Thank you for tagging me (and sorry guys for being slow to respond, I had to think about this one).

Since I procrastinated and everyone seems to have done this one already, I’m going to do my usual lazy tag: if you want to do it, you’re tagged.

#not tolkien #tag game

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selfship-monster-lover · 1 year

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Something About The Human

Ever since Dinobot II spotted the human on the battlefield they've haunted the back of his mind. The way they stood there, mouth agape when they saw him transform from beast mode. The sorrow and confusion on their face when they called out "Dinobot?" in such a soft, unguarded tone. The way they still immediately raised their weapon and dug their heels into the dirt when he started to lunge at them.

Something was… off.

He's a killing machine. A cold hearted predator that lives for the thrill of battle and destruction. And yet, something within him held back. He hesitated long enough for Optimus Primal to swoop in and save them just as he had them pinned to a tree. The look in their eyes made him freeze his raised claw in the air.

He's never hesitated like that before. Was it a bug in his programming? A remnant of the old Dinobot's CNA corrupted by the Maximals?

Whatever it was, it was… annoying.

And it's even more annoying now that he has the human on his mind constantly.

He hates that he scans the battlefield for them first thing. He is unsure if he feels disappointed or relieved when they are not there. Perhaps a bit of both?

He growls in frustration, haunted even now by thoughts of that damned human as he stalks the forest for any sign or whiff of a maximal. He pauses in the underbrush once his nose catches a scent. A scent all too familiar to him by now. How does that phrase go? Speak of the devil? Or rather think of the devil in this case.

He gulps, enraptured by the scent of that maximal pet. It seems they're getting closer. And they're alone.

How odd.

Normally when the human is about there is a maximal not too far behind, but right now he can't sense any one of them. Surely fate is only teasing him with easy prey. It can't be this simple, even for him. And yet here they come now, in his line of sight without even knowing he's there hiding in the bushes.

How careless. They seem completely unguarded and unprepared for any kind of attack. He knows they aren't the strongest member of the team but this is going to be too easy, it's almost pitiful.

He prepares to lunge before stopping to watch them turn to the right and brush some big leaves back to reveal some kind of entrance.

Oh? Is this a secret maximal base? How very careless of them to not check for an enemy nearby before revealing such a secret. It seems they are the weakest and the dumbest member of the Maximals, and here he thought that last title belonged to the eaglewolf.

He quietly stalks closer to inspect the cave, checking for any kind of traps or buttons. Once he deems it safe he follows the human inside. Once he makes it halfway in he sees a light and hears a soft humming.

He stalks towards the light, keeping himself hidden behind the cave wall. He peeks around the corner and sees the human alone on some animal pelts, humming a song to themself as they use a stick to draw in the dirt. A small light shines nearby, illuminating the cave for them.

This is… a sorry excuse for a base. He doesn't see any levers or switches. There is no tech. There is nothing here. Why is the human even here?

Unless it's a trap.

A trap to lure him out so the Maximals can get the jump on him.

Well, they'll have to be more clever than that. He bides his time and watches until the human gets up and turns their back on him to rummage through their backpack. With a ferocious growl he leaps from the shadows.

"Dinobot terrorize!" He shouts, lunging at the human and pinning them to the ground, knocking a datapad from their hand. The looks of confusion and fear on their face is so satisfying.

Almost… arousing.

He gives a big, toothy grin, "Sorry maximal pet, your signal won't be sent."

"Signal?" They ask in a hoarse and confused voice.

I don't know what kind of trap you've set but I'm sure it's no match for me."

"Trap?" They ask again, exceedingly confused.

He raises a claw above his head "Your friends won't make it here before I ca-" He pauses, his eyes straying to the datapad beside them. There's no sign of a voice call or even any kind of message sent. Instead it's a picture of Dinobot. The original Dinobot. He picks up the datapad, staring at it, then slowly sliding his hand down the side of his face.

Meanwhile Lias takes this chance to scramble out from under him. They sit up and push backwards until their back hits the cave wall. They breathe heavily, their eyes going back and forth between Dinobot II and the light just slightly behind him. They take a deep breath and try to get their footing to make a leap for the light.

Dinobot II growls and jumps on top of them again, sitting on their back and grabbing the light before tossing it against the cave wall and breaking it. Only the soft glow of the datapad remains as he dangles it in front of Lias' face, "This was… the original Dinobot correct? The one who I was made after? " He snarls.

"Yeah." they nod and whisper.

He tilts his helm, "You two must have been close." He can feel their heartbeat race as he adjusts himself and presses his chest to their back, "Well?"

They gulp and nod again, stifling tears.

"What exactly were you two?"

"I… uh… is that really important?" Their voice cracks.

He snarls and slides a hand against their neck, bracing his sharp claw to their throat.

"We um… we were… together." They whisper out, a tear streaming from their cheek.

He inhales sharply.

Ah.

That explains all these… confusing feelings. The remnants of the previous Dinobot's life must be tormenting him.

No matter. Just one quick slice and this will all be over. He will never have to think of this odd, pathetic creature again.

Just. One. Slice.

"Hey choppa face!"

Dinobot II turns his helm to see Rattrap standing with a gun pointed at him.

"Get off my pal!" He yells, firing the gun.

Dinobot II retracts his claw and brings both hands up to cover his face before being blasted against the wall.

Rattrap rushes over to Lias to help them up, "C'mon we don't got much time before he gets back up and decides to make mincemeat outta us!" He says, grabbing their hand to flee.

"Wait!" They pull away and quickly run over to grab their backpack then sling over their shoulder as they run back to Rattrap. The two high tail it out of the cave as Rattrap comms Optimus to pick them up.

Dinobot II stands up and shakes his helm, "Blasted rodent. He'll pay for-" he pauses as he looks down to see the datapad laying at his feet. He bends down to pick it up. It's still functional, but the screen cracked when he dropped it after getting blasted. He stares at the picture of his original.

Together, hm?

A predacon and a human. Now that's an interesting thought. An interesting thought indeed.

#elias.txt #my writing #self shipping #self ship #selfshipping #selfship #self ship community

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pynkgothicka · 2 years

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Can I have Yandere ahlpa dark Batman x Omega reader x yandere alpha dark red hood nsfw

Where they share the Reader and they and they go into heat and hide it from them cuz there on patrolling fighting crime.

And later they go to check on her at her apartment they both bum into each other and decide to share her

And breed her

Dark! Yandere! Alpha! Jason Todd x Fem! Omega! Reader x Dark! Yandere! Alpha! Bruce Wayne

a/n: in…. heat

Tags/Warnings: DUBCON, threesome, breeding, creampies, OMEGAVERSE AU, COERCION, VIOLENCE, STALKING, BLOOD

A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!

It's been 6 months since he locked you away. It wasn't like Jason had physically done it himself, just the fear of him made you hole away. Ever Since he made it explicitly clear that he had wanted you for himself, and that you were an unbred omega. Jason viewed you as some form of catch in his sick twisted mind that he had developed over the years. He had saved you from some underground trafficking ring and he couldn't be happier. You were his perfect doll, the love of his life.

And that only terrified you more.

You were in heat, and Jason was out on patrol. You didn't think it could get to this point of you rocking back and forth constantly watching the door and windows, but the mere fear of Jason seeing you haunted you. If Jason got too close to the building, he would smell your arousal, only making things possibly worse for you. Jason would often come over to relieve his stress and to just hang out with you. The sad part is you could tell he genuinely loved you, yet the circumstances made it impossible to love him back. You hugged yourself close,nesting away in your pile of comforters and pillows. You wished you could at least leave but you couldn't even do that, as he would surely find you then.

Little did you know, Jason was already stalking your building, having been caught on to your scent a long time ago. He always made sure to do his rounds around your apartment. Gotham was dangerous and he always had to make sure you were okay. Or at least that's what he told himself. Jason also knew damn well that Bruce wanted you too, the man could barely grasp basic concepts in his skewed mind. Yet here he was, contemplating on going over and breeding you deep. His military slacks strained against his growing erection. His only real issue was getting in and having his way without Bruce knowing.

“I should have known you'd be here.”

Shit speak of the devil.

“What Selina is busy or some shit?” Jason wasn't afraid of Bruce, and spoke his mind when talking to him. I heard Bruce's heavy feet walk next to his spot on the ledge. “If she is fuck off, Ypu cant have her.”

“Jason, you know there's always another option: We could share her. If you would get over your ego-”

“No, she's mine.” Jason seethed out, taking off his mask. “Besides I know you can smell her, shes in fucking heat down there, And I’m going to claim her. Stay out of my way.”

“Who knew you could be so stubborn,listen I can have her for one night and then I'll Leave you and your weird hero fantasy alone for the rest of your lives,” Bruce took another step forward. “Just for tonight.” Jason finally turned around to look at his idol. He knew he wouldn't leave you alone unless Bruce got his fill of you. It was really shitty he had to do it tonight of all nights.

“Fine. I won't hesitate killing you.”

Your phone lit up your face as you held your stomach close, trying to ignore the growing heat within yourself. It was only 11 pm, and you would have assumed that sleep would eventually take over and you’d pass out, but nope. Not even your curse of being an omega would grant you that, but it did grant you the ability to lose the guard you've been keeping up for the past hour.

You didn't even hear the sound of the window opening and closing as you cried out from your painful abdomen cramps. But what you did hear was the sound of footsteps coming towards your bed, making you freeze up. You turned off your phone, to try and pretend to be asleep. It was a stupid idea, but your mind wasnt functioning properly as it susallly does. The comforter was slowly lifted off you, your head buried under a pillow. Silent tears trickled down your face, your pillow getting soaked in the process.

A hand trailed up your spine, the touch alone soaking your panties even more. It was an alpha's touch, the smell engulfing you, filling your lungs with a poison-like feeling. His hand trailed up to the back of your neck, yanking your head up. You let out a shrill scream trying to grab back to your temporary nest. You were thrown to the ground looking up to see your tormentor Jason Todd and Bruce Wayne standing over your cramping body.

But what was strange was that they were working together… Jason has explicitly told you that he despises Bruce, so why in the world would they ever consider teaming up?

“Shhh, this will all be over soon… Then it can just be me and you again.” Jason cooed, kneeling down to your huddled up body. His hand trailed down your jaw and up to your lips, pressing his leather gloved fingers unto your tongue. “Bruce here wants to have a taste of you, and trust me he's not gonna touch that pretty little pussy of yours, that's for me.”

“Go awa-Ah!” You yelled out as Bruce grabbed you by the ankle, forcing you out of your curled up position, your sweat covered body making all the arousal from the touch go straight to your cunt. You panted out, either from fear or just the sheer amount of arousal you were feeling at the time. You watched in a daze, the words jumbling up in your head as Jason got up in Bruce's face and started to yell at him.

“Fucking hurt her and ill fucking paint the walls with your blood, do you fucking hear me.” That was enough for you to shut up and whimper and shy away from them two. You knew the more angry they were at each other, the harder they’d take it out on you. Yet you couldn't levy the tension between the two, the pain taking over. You cried out your abdomen, feeling it was like getting stabbed repeatedly.

"You're in pain. Let me help you." Bruce pulled down your lace panties and began to rub you in small circles. You clawed at your carpeted floor moaning out loudly. Bruce chuckled at your antics. "Your soaked baby. Jason has been ignoring this huh?"

Jason grabbed your face and kissed you, forcing your neck in an uncomfortable position. He tapped his tongue on your lips, signaling you to open up for him. He was always rough when it came to you, and possessive. You could recall when you were allowed out and could get past Jason, another alpha had simply tried telling you that you'd drop your wallet, only for not even seconds later, a bullet to have gone through his skull.

Jason peppered kisses all the way down to your neck, admiring the mark he made when he first had claimed you. "It's funny how I got to something before you," He teased Bruce who only rolled his eyes.

"She's going to like me more though."

"You shut the fuck up." Jason seethed pulling you up and away from Bruce. You knew Jason like the back of your palm, and Bruce's best bet right now was to shut up, not just for his sake, but your own. Jason was going to try and prove a point with you and that's something you wanted to avoid at all costs.

"Y-You know I only have eyes for you." Your trembling hand went to touch Jason's scarred face. He seemed to appreciate that and moved towards your touch.

"You're so beautiful." Jason mumbled pulling down his military cargo pants. You could hear the various weapons move around as he kicked them to the side watching as his cock popped out from him not even deciding to wear boxers while out on patrol. He knew he was coming here tonight, why did you even try to assume any better.

Bruce came from behind you moving to where you sat on his lap. You could feel his hot and heavy cock on your back. His hand dug into your pussy, soaking his hand. He stuck his index finger deep into your ass. You screamed out more latching on to Jason. You could hear the growl rumbling within his chest as he eyed Bruce dangerously. Every move Jason made was calculated and precise, and you could read him getting more and more pissed at his adopted father.

"What did I tell you about hurting her…"

"If you get that tight little-" Bruce slapped your sopping wet pussy, the sound resounding around the room. "Cunt. I want her fucking ass. You said it yourself, we can share her tonight and then I'll leave you two alone. So do you really want to test the waters right now?" Jason growled at him before putting his attention back to you. His face softened as he took off his jacket and shirt. He pushed you further unto Bruce and deeper into your nest. His fat cock laid on your stomach as Jason went in for a kiss, just a single peck as you whimpered under their touch.

Then just then, Jason pushed himself deep within you hissing at how tight you were. Your juices coated his length, and Jason nearly lost himself then and there, but he knew how fragile you were and stroked your hair fondly. You squirmed against him, as soon as he reached the hilt of his length you came around him. Bruce snickered behind you using your high from your previous orgasm to shove himself deep into your ass. The pleasure you were feeling turned into pain as your hole stretched to accommodate his girth.

Jason was too lost in already pounding you into oblivion to care. His animalistic instincts are finally taking over, he's not even speaking a lick of English and is just pounding into you repeatedly. Each time his hips connected to your cervix you let out a small whimper, it felt like you were dying but strangely it was a good feeling. It felt like pure ecstasy. Bruce barely had to move as he was reduced to low grunts and groans.

“Look at him, getting pussy drunk. Looks like he cant handle you baby.” Bruce whispered into your ear. He let out a sharp hiss as Jason held you close, reaching his peak.”I’m going to knot you so fucking good…” Then his fiery gaze connected with Bruce who was seemingly just using you.

In which Jason did not like at all.

In a fit of rage, he pulled you off Bruce, and you wailed out as Bruce's cock tore from your insides. Jason held you by the undersides of your legs and started to really pound into you. His upper body strength made certain to not let you go, as your juicesciated his abs and cock. His knot entering in and out of you with a loud pop. Bruce tucked himself back into his armor and watched as Jason bred you with more vigor than he's ever seen even when he fought him. He watched as Jason threw his head back and thrusted his now swollen knot deep into you,inevitably locking himself with you. Jason let out a series of shallow pants before reaching behind him,grabbing his gun, and successfully loading a bullet into his ‘fathers’ head.

Blood soaked the walls behind you. And it coated your back, making you feel all the worse. Jason kicked Bruce's dead body off your nest and laid down, his scared face greeting yours with a smile.

“I told you ill protect you… always.”

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astaroth1357 · 3 years

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Demigod MC Series: Athena

So. I have to deal with the virgin goddesses… By mythos, there really shouldn't ever be children of Artemis, Hestia, or Athena (yes, Athena was a virgin goddess). PJ got past that by making it canon that Annabeth and her siblings were born from cracking open Athena's skull (yes, that's also more or less the canon explanation). They gloss over it real quick but I remember, Rick. I've always remembered and that mental image has haunted me for years...

I can't, in good conscience, ignore the history around Athena's worship (call it an academic restraint) but I REFUSE to do the skull thing. So, since I make the rules here, I'm going with magic adoption. They still get magic powers, they're just more human than demigod. Cool? Cool.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena

Lucifer

The human that popped out of the portal seemed to have enough sense not to attack everyone in the room for a change, but even Lucifer could tell that was more of a strategic choice than for lack of ability...

Their very existence was highly unusual… and quite worrisome. He wasn't even aware Athena could have "children" of her own, but apparently she had been taking in some particularly bright humans to raise and train like her own...

Unbeknownst to him, a surprising amount of human scholars, diplomats, and generals have her to thank for their trade… and that alone should speak to the level of intrigue at play here.

Was this an accident or Athena's attempt to plant an Olympian spy in the Devildom too…? Either way, he didn't trust them from the get go…

Look, Lucifer isn’t stupid. Athena is a goddess of Wisdom and War and war happens on more than just the battlefield…

Since they've shown up records have been going missing, official documents keep getting misplaced, and he swears that there's some kind of bug in the student council room...!

It's infuriating watching the MC suck up to Diavolo when he's almost certain that they're running their own agenda behind the scenes! And he can't prove any of it!! They cover their tracks too well!

Lucifer has one of those corkboards covered in newspapers and string in a secret wing of the Castle - 100% dedicated to just tracking the MC's activities…. The longer they're there, the more obsessed he becomes...

He swears between Simeon, Solomon, and MC he feels like a shepherd wondering why the sheep are growling… The Devildom has never been in more danger than it is right now... Send help.

Mammon

To be honest, he kind of thought that they were just going to be Satan 2.0 but that's not really true.

They're more than just a book sponge! Though they do read, like a lot. Let’s just say from one schemer to another… Game recognizes Game.

They come up with plans and ideas soooo fast, it’s insane! Honestly, there are times where he has a new money-making plot and he just brings it to the MC first to run it over.

Nine times out of ten, not only do they sniff out any problems but they have a solution for him in a matter of minutes! His scheme game has been on point since they’ve shown up!!

They’re also even better tutoring than Satan is, so he’s even managed to get a couple A’s for the first time in his life! Lucifer actually told him he was proud (which he secretly recorded and now uses as a ringtone much to his brother’s regret...)

So yeah, he likes them... buuut that doesn’t keep him from thinking they act a little weird sometimes...

Mammon: *points to a unused tower close to the RAD building* Over there is the Tower of Sorrow. We use it for storage.

MC: Ah. Interesting… *starts writing in a notebook, muttering* It may need a few minor tweaks but the location is defensible...

Mammon: *stops* Ya say somethin’?

MC: *looks back up* Nope! Say, you’ve been to the Castle a lot haven’t you? Do you know any good ways in?

Mammon: Uhm… Why do ya want to know that…? *starts looking around for Lucifer*

MC: In case of emergencies. I like being prepared. 🙂

Mammon: Look, I don’t know what Lucifer might’a told ya…

MC: I’ll pay you a thousand Grimm for it.

Mammon: Well shit, ya want those maps with or without color?

... Yeeeah, that’s pretty weird… But it’s probably fine. I mean, as long as they keep giving him money, who’s he to complain? 🤷‍♀️

Leviathan

Also thought that they’d be a lot more like Satan but was pleasantly surprised that they were into more than books.

What else did they like exactly? Military strategy!!

It’s been a looong time since he’s been able to talk to someone who’s actually interested in all the battles he’s fought, both in the Celestial Realm and the Devildom, and their curiosity is kind of flattering...! Not a lot of people take his strategic prowess all that seriously anymore...

Plus, they are the BEST partner to have any turn-based strategy game. Hands down. He once got stuck on a level of D-COM for weeks until the MC walked in and mopped the floor with the AI!! They have a serious head for probability and tactics.

The House once made the mistake of letting these two be on the same team during a Hell Game and they absolutely demolished the competition. Mammon didn’t even get a single shot off before half his team was lost to a rigged paint grenade… It took a whole day to clean up…

However, Levi’s also noticed some odd things about the human… He likes that they’re interested in his past but maybe they’re a little… too interested?

Levi: -and that’s how we defeated the Four Horsemen before they escaped from Purgatory.

MC: Wow, Levi that’s seriously impressive!! *furiously scribbling on a notebook*

Levi: Well t-thanks… 😅 But, uhm... are you writing that down…?

MC: Hm? Oh no, just doodling. *they lift up the notebook to show a bunch of cute little sketches on the page… and not the magic-based invisible ink all over them…*

Levi: Oh you draw too? Can you do fanart???

MC: Eh, sometimes. But say Levi, can you tell me about your naval ranks again? I’m still really curious… *gets the pen ready again with a smile*

Satan

Oh, it's been a long game of cat-and-mouse between these two… and unfortunately, it’s been pretty addicting too.

He honestly had every intention of tricking the human into making a huge mess do he could bother Lucifer, but at every turn they proved just a hair too clever for him...

He once gave them a cursed book to “lend” to Lucifer, but they saw through it the moment they touched it and lifted the spell before handing it over.

He rigged a podium to spray glitter during one of Lucifer's speeches but the MC disconnected the trigger mic before he even got on stage. It was pretty dang frustrating...

At one point he got so desperate that, just as a test, he tried to trap them in the House's Music Room. Fortunately for them, it only took a few minutes to work out an escape. They even passed by him in the hallway with a wink!

It's confounding! It's infuriating!!

...and it's so damn sexy... He should be furious but he’s just in awe!!

Add on that they know their art, literature, and multiple different crafts thanks to the tutelage of their adopted mother and that’s it. He’s finished. This boy is in love.

Truthfully though, a part of him is 90% sure that they’re also gathering state secrets… Like, they’re watching Barbs and Diavolo far too close for comfort - but he just can't bring himself to care. 🤷‍♀️

The MC could walk into his room one day and say, "Hey, do you want to help overthrow the monarchy with me?" and he dreads it because deep down he knows that he wouldn’t say no…

Take some notes, kids. Some bad influences get you to drink or do drugs. Others pull you into a centuries long conspiracy to destabilize and topple rival realms from within… But he has fallen for their brain hard. Devil help them all…

Asmodeus

They’re pretty clever, he’ll give them that, but uh… Are they a little off to anybody else?

Asmo is a charmer by birthright so he has a bit of nose for when someone’s just a liiittttle too nice… Not much of a nose mind you, because he can be thrown off by compliments himself, but enough to think that the MC might be a little too… “kind” for their own good...

First off, who wants to spend that much time with Levi?? They don’t even seem that interested in anime! They just keeping asking him for old war stories…

Then all the sucking up they do to Diavolo and Barbatos? Look, he gets it. Diavolo is a delicious piece of man-hunk and his butler could give him a lesson or two in sweet-talk (and he has), but they seem to be just a little too… nosy.

Of course, Asmo’s suspicions disappear pretty quickly after they start to spoil him with spa nights and beauty secrets they picked up from “casual research” into the subject.

And you know, get a little Demonus in Asmo and start massaging his back? Oh, sweetie he’ll sing like a bird!! … with gossip. Singing with gossip.

Asmo: So I’ve heard that Lucifer has been spending more time at RAD than usual… His whole club is talking about it, they think he’s meeting with some witch!

MC: Hm, is that so? *works on a knot near his shoulder blades* What do you think?

Asmo: Ooh~! Right there, MC! *purrs and lays his head on his arms* Well come on, this is Lucifer we’re talking about! I’m sure he’s just working.

Asmo: Hmm... though come to think of it, I think I heard him asking Barbatos for the spare keys to the Tower of Sorrow…

MC: Oh really? Huh. *works out the knot and gets up* I just remembered that I left some papers with Satan... I’ll be right back.

Asmo: You’re going already??

MC: *waves him off quickly* I’ll be right back, Asmo. *hurries out the door to do totally on-the-up-and-up things… surely*

Beelzebub

Honestly he doesn't like this one… But not for the reasons you'd expect.

He agrees with everyone else that they seem a little shady, but Solomon and Simeon are too so it's not like that's anything new... 🤷‍♀️

No, no. He dislikes them because they're the person who FINALLY figured out how to keep him from eating all the food in the kitchen!!

Turns out that the trick was to put a teleportation charm on the fridge door that would send all the food away if it’s opened after a certain time of night…

And where does it go? The Purgatory Hall fridge. And where does the Purgatory Hall food go…? The HoL fridge…

It doesn’t sound so bad until you remember that it means half of their fridge is now Solomon’s leftovers…. 🤢

After they put the same kind of spell on the pantry, it was all over… He couldn't get midnight snacks from the House anymore… Everything was contaminated by Solomon…

The MC is a nice enough person, he doesn’t have a lot of complaints about them, but he wants them to leave. Now. This is inexcusable… He’s so hungry… and he doesn’t want to die by “goulash” or whatever Solomon calls his latest culinary catastrophe… He’s still too young for death… 😓

Belphegor

In a way, he absolutely could not have asked for a better person to help him get out of that attic.

… In another way, he got one of the worst possible people to try and kill... Like. They saw through his scheme sooo fast…

How was he supposed to know that the human had training in body language and sniffing out lies???

Getting the door open was a piece of cake for them. They knew enough magic to undo the seals and just rummaged around Lucifer's stuff long enough to find the key to the door. He could not have found a more competent individual for a break out, really.

It’s just… well he didn’t expect to go from locked in a room like a prisoner to tied up in enchanted rope, still like a prisoner but now mobile. 😑

They even used his own hug ruse against him! They caught his wrists when they got close and tied him up before he could shake them off...

Admittedly, it wasn't exactly the best look for them either - what with walking Belphegor downstairs to the others like a one-man-prison-caravan but they're as silver-tongued as they are sly so they talked their way out of it beautifully…

And like hell was he going to trust them after that!! And not even Beel liked them so something had to be up...

Well, you want a detective? Look no farther than Belphie (no seriously, it’s in the canon). He can put things together pretty fast when he puts his mind to it and watching the MC for a while gave him enough proof to work off of...

He always knew that, humans were bad news and the MC just proved it to him all over again. They are bad news, bad bad news and they’re going to-!

Overthrow… Diavolo…? Is that what he is getting from them…? Huh…

Wait a second, MC. You might just have him interested… 😏

#you say athena mc is smart #i say athena mc is spy #because where better to use your smarts #in war #obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me demigods

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kkusuka · 3 years

Text

(i had to repost lol- it wasn’t showing up on my page)

this the request: part 3 of thiccy gf hcs ??? with kuroo, terushima, sakusa, and daichi and/or atsumu 🥺👉🏽👈🏽 i must be fed

i understand your need for them

and as a member of the thunder-thigh committee, i am happy to write about my fellow sexy women! (another 4:56 am ramble i refuse to delete)

part one

part 2 <3

i mixed this with this ask ; Pt. 3 of the thicc af gf with Aone, Osamu, Kyotani, Daichi, Kuguri, and Terushima plz? 🥺

this got wayyyyyyyyy long

4, 685 words. my finger slipped?

Kuroo tetsuro

this guy has been trying to get you since first year

he’s that dedicated

and you didn’t even notice, he was just a flirty friend who helped you with science

(even when he would practically put you in his lap while he went over things)

lo and behold, he finally got his chance during the third year culture festival

yeah as in he waited a whole three years for this

Eh, once again, had a whole pan to make you see him as your great future husband, aka the haunted house (a good excuse to have you hold onto him)

He has to give it to class 2-4, the did a damn good job, it was scary

Long story short you fell on top of him, boobs in face hands-on ass

~heaven~

Mans actually asked you to be his girlfriend right there, groping you and murmuring between your boobs. (he wouldn't have gotten up if the next group wasn’t approaching.)

From then on he’d literally do anything for the ass

He’s a big simp and we all know it.

Like When you wear shorts he has to ‘pull them down’ aka feel you up while pulling the hem of your shorts down ever so slightly.

Or when he gets on a knee right behind you to ‘tie his shoe’, but the school shoes have no laces.

He could be a bit more creative and he wanted to look under your skirt.

When he wants to cut the bull shit he’ll just lift the back of your skirt and rub around for a but, to hell with all the other kids in the hallway.

(did I mention that he puts things on the highest shelves so he can walk up behind you and practically dry hump you.)

Speaking of simp nation

You can't really wear anything without setting him off

Shorts drive him absolutely nuts, it's insane. But it isn't his fault that most of your shorts are spandex that cut off right at the beginning of your thighs, it's like a homemade booty lifter. He just can’t help but wanting to cop a feel.

Or the color red in general. It is ridiculous, the guy rips everything when he tries to take it off too. So that stunning red cocktail dress with the lace-up sides was not unwearable, and you only had it on for like 2 hours. And that was only because it was a friend's 18th birthday party you were both invited to.

(thanks to kuroo not letting you out of his arms you both were late and left early.)

((in his defense you looked like a full course meal and it was giving him severe blue balls, and he’s only seen you for a few minutes))

Halloween, you know. the one night you could dress up as anything. any you decide to go as a cat-girl in a maid costume. And you expected him to just take that sitting down? Hell no. the red thigh highs AND the corset middle? You're lucky it lasted as long as it did.

That my dear was bravery. His color. A cat. And a short skirt. With thigh highs!

And so, he did what he did all those other times, dragged you to sit on his lap, and opening your thighs, and like a good girl you’ll let him

If you could already tell, he gives no shits to whos watching, let ‘em see (they really never do but you get the point)

He’s also a prime thigh groper, especially when he wants to keep your legs open, he also loves thigh hic

Terushima Yuji

Another shower-offer

You were already he's so why can't he let everyone know?

Speaking of you being his, he doesn't tell people how you guys don’t together, with good reason considering you practically beat him up

Not really but that’s what he calls it, basically he tried to get with one of your friends at a party.

She just happens to not be interested in men and has a wonderful girlfriend, so she was uncomfortable but couldn't tell him to leave her alone

So you took fate into your own hands, literally, you stole Fate from class 3-2’s drink and poured it on him before slapping him and telling him about how he was a pig.

And he fell in love, you looked like an angel, a really hot angel, it didn't help you were in a white dress either

And from then on he literally once or twice, got on his knees for you, asking to give him a chance.

Honestly, it got annoying, so you just agreed to make it go away. It did, but you also gained a perv of a boyfriend who has an insatiable love for your lower half

He’s a simple creature, do take caution of his fragile being

So that means all those times you bend over in front of him he was slowly cracking and trying to figure out where the nearest storage closet is.

He thought he was having heart palpitations when he saw you in the damn dress again, apparently, he didn't see all of it. Specifically the v-neck top, and the fact it only went to the end of your ass. Needless to say, he made sure to walk behind you on every staircase that you went on

Another set off is yoga legging, like the lululemon ones, that people wear all the time. They fit you great, really really great. They were supposed to work out in them???? Why were they so skin-tight????? And he also figured out that you wore things because of them. Instant nut.

How you ask, simple.

One time he saw your underwear line through the pants and he pointed them out, they did make it seem like your ass was super soft so he saw his chance and took it.

So the next time you wore them and he didn't see the lines he was like ??????

And thus began the “Yuji hunt for lineless underwear” and he found the thongs

And you received the fucking of your life soon after.

Oh! And there’s any time you go to the beach. Literally every time.

No cap.

The first time was when you wore a red one-piece and he practically went feral. It wasn't really a one-piece if it was see-through and had the lowest neckline on the planet.

Everyone was looking at you.

He practically fucked you on the beach but held off until you got back to the hotel room.

He’s way more forward when he wants to fuck, if you could imagine. He’ll just walk up to you and tell you he wants to get some, like right now.

If you can even ignore him, he’ll throw an arm around your waist and grope around your legs, all the way to the apex.

It is also not below him to try and get you off while still wearing underwear that he will be taking after.

(i didn't say anything about his stash off orgasm ruined underwear? My bad.)

Sakusa Kiyoomi

Going beyond the fact he even has a girlfriend, y’know considering, but the fact that no one knew who you were until you showed up at nationals to cheer him on

(atsumu was even starting to think that you didn't exist and that poor kiyoomi just imagined you up, so can imagine his shock when you ran up to said boy after they won)

The whole dating thing wasn't the shocking part; it was the fact that you looked like you walked off of the Milan runway.

And you were wearing leggings and sakusa's jacket, all of a sudden everyone was interested in how that happened

It was a kind of a boring story, someone had spilled coffee in a shop that you both happen to be in

And he watched you offer the man the same disinfectant wipes that he uses!

And in the most sakusa way possible he followed you out of the shop and tried to talk to you.

An exchange of numbers and many awkward conversations (and boners) later, you were a couple.

Back to that hug, like the many others, he's let you have, it’s all just to feel how soft you were

But poor touch -starved sakusa doesn't know what to do with any of these pent up feelings.

And he has a loooooooot of them.

Multiple occasions have shaped the poor germ-boy into the horny-tornado he has become

so he’s not really into what you’re wearing, it’s more about what you’re doing

like when you wore the mask he bought you to one of his games, and you wore one of his alternate uniforms, but the kicker was how you stayed away from everyone and didn’t let a single person near you (or his shirt)

or when you helped him clean his dorm when he was doing his weekly deep clean

or when the two of you washed the dishes while trying to do one of those “try not to sing” challenges

(is it normal to get a boner when your girlfriend helps you clean? no?)

but, as much as he tries to remain emotionless on the subject, there are multiple exceptions to the “it’s not what she wears” whole thing

Like that violet puffy skirt, you wore to a study fate, the one with the white sweater? That one, the same one that he could see your panties, from anywhere he sat. and Every time you got up you would have to smooth it down to make the creases go down, but it was only ever really giving him a good idea about the shape of your ass.

(if he sees you in that skirt again he’s just going to fuck you in it)

The lesser-known horny-inducer, since he made you take it off within the first five minutes, was a dress! What kind of dress? A neon yellow see-through mesh dress. The bottom wasn’t what got him though, it was the fact that your white bra was clearly seen under the mesh top. Or maybe it was the way the skirt made your waist look super small, and how your hips looked so round and squeezable.

Yeah, no one else could experience you in that.

Not to sound like this, but sakusa is still averse to touch

BUT BUT BUT

That goes out the window when he wants to dance the devil's tango with you.

Mr. His way or no way shows up, he does it every so slightly different

If it’s just the two of you, he’ll put a hand on your shoulder and he’ll push you to your knees. And he’ll pet your head and tell you what’s about to happen and advise you to listen like a good girl.

But in the instance you are in the presence of others, he’ll stand behind you and bring you super close to him, ass to dick. (maybe he’ll grind into you a bit, just to convince you to follow him) and he’ll throw a few words in about how much of a bitch in heat you are for getting turned on in front of all of these people.

It’s best to just do what he wants before he makes you cum in your underwear.

Daichi Sawamura

oh my

you guys are the power thigh couple

powerful and defined mixed with soft and pillowy

In Fact, that’s literally how the two of you met, thanks to Tanaka and Nishinoya of course.

(let’s just pretend karasuno has a cheer squad, and you just happened to be the captain of said team)

So basically you were doing a favor for the student council, and you were supposed to ask how many third years, managers included, were on each team and each club in the school

Easy! Turns out not so much. You were still in your cheer practice uniform, which was the shortest spandex ever made, and a Karasuno school t-shirt that was ever so slightly too tight.

Anyway, you make it to the gym and open the door, and the little one, Yachi, saw you and literally screamed. (she was right by the door), and that alerted everyone else in the gym, which led to the bald boy and his short companion pushing you further into the gym.

But in the better sense, it did gain the attention of the captain! Just the exact moment he was in front of you someone pushed; your back and within a second, in some miracle like way, you both ended up on the floor and he ended up planked on top of you with a leg between your spread thighs.

Almost kissing nonetheless.

Then, like the gentleman he was, he got off and asked you if you alright and kneeled down and let you use his shoulder to try and stand back up.

You did get up, for a split second, Daichi still kneeling letting you use him as a step stool when a certain red-head was flung right into you and you went toppling forward.

Onto Daichi.

Onto Daichi's face.

Your thighs around his head.

His hands-on your ass.

Hand in his hair.

He could sit there forever, you were frozen, everyone else was frozen.

You eventually climbed off and asked how many third years there were. But he just sat there, his hands hadn’t moved either, luckily Suga answered and you were on your way.

And Daichi still didn’t move, after that incident, you had begun to see him everywhere, and eventually, he just cut the shit and asked you out.

Daddy Daichi likes seeing you in literally anything from sweatshirts to lingerie.

His favorite was the brown buttoned pencil skirt and the white blouse, that you wore to a date. You were kind of overdressed for the ramen shop and after a walk, but he didn't even care. He was so thrown off by how turned on he was he couldn't speak in full sentences.

An example:

“Yeah, the food here is- boob, I-I mean great, not boob, great, yes, great.”

The second.

Was a bathrobe.

Can you see where I'm going with that? Simply you look hot.

His favorite part of the night was ripping it off of you.

And like the first time you met, he had his head in your thighs <3

Atsumu Miya

You met poor atsumu at a party.

He tried to shoot his shot, y’know he sees a cute lady he’s just gotta try and show you what you could be getting

he had it all planned, he was going to walk up behind you and run his hands over your delicious curves and ask you if you were in need of any help

he doesn’t take into account that a having a random guy just start groping you and pressing himself behind a girl was panic-inducing

so when he dropped your waist, you freaked out and may or may not have punched him in the dick

while he was in a. world of pain you age to figure out what the hell had just happened to you

then you noticed him on the floor, and when he noticed you looking at him he put this forced cocky smirk on and gave you a “how you doing”

You took pity on the poor creature and helped him up and got him some ice, then conversed with him for the majority of the rest of the night.

And he just hasn't left you alone since

(and, you learned this far later, that he went so far to tell Sakusa and Kageyama all about you and how amazing you are, and has even sent them- more than one- picture

But in other news, he’s very horny

So really all that means is he always has his hands on you

Like during practice breaks when you're allowed to come down and talk to him for a bit, give him some things, but it normally just consists of him sitting on the bench and you standing in front of him.

While his hands rest on your hips and his face is shoved into the valley between your breasts, and he just sits and listens to you as you brush a hand through his hair.

Or sometimes, if he had been having a rough time, he’ll just have his hands under your skirt and he’ll feel around for a bit while grumbling about how people cant hit his sets

But for being the possessive bastard he is, he sure likes letting you wear all those outfits

Like the booty shorts and tank top, you wore to bring them food during the summer training camp. That same camp that the two of you disappeared at and he came back looking like he had won the lottery.

Or the cute little red dress you wore to your anniversary date? The one that made him have a hard-on the entire time you were at dinner. He knows the waiter remembers, he also bets the waiter remembers seeing him fucking you in the car when his shift was over.

And that time you wore his jersey to bed and sent him a picture of it. It was such a good picture that he made it his lock screen for everyone to see.

He just likes looking at you tbh.

Aone Takanobu

you guys didn’t meet in some weird perverted way, it was actually really cute!

Not to sound creepy but he knew that you were in the garden club because you sat right in front of him in class

And since he didn't talk to anyone else in that class he was just content with listening, and so there he was

Standing outside of the garden club door holding his withering basil plant. Lost.

Lucky for him you were walking down the hallway and greeted him, looking all pretty and cute

You did help him realize that he was overwatering the basil and within a few weeks, it was back to life!

From that first time on, he came to the club room with you twice a week and walked home with you, just listening to all the random plant facts that you had harbored in your mind.

Eventually, with the help of the team, he asked you out, and you hugged him and said yes, and that was the beginning of the “oh god, y/n is way softer than I thought”

So he really just tries to be near you or be touching you at all times

(i am also a firm believer that he likes to slow dance to classical music in your living room)

Like during lunch periods when you sit next to him and the second you finish eating hell push you to lean against him

And he’ll rub small circles on your hips and give you small innocent gropes

Or how he hugs your waist when you're doing literally anything, and he puts his head on top of your head while swaying

I can also tell you that Aone is a good singer

So he hums to you (I'm uwuing over my own headcanon lol)

He also really likes just running his hands along your body, so he likes when you wear the one-piece dresses so he has smooth sailing down your body

As a man of little words, he clearly has a more physical approach to getting you on the horny train

What I am trying to get at is that more often than not he literally just picks you up and carries you away.

Of course, that leaves you to come back to whatever you were doing.

That is after the cuddles and after sex ‘conversations’ about the dumbest things

Basically, he likes to hear you talk and he really likes being near.

Osamu Miya

He knew who you were

With a brother like atsumu, who never shuts up about you, it's hard not to

(Osamu is pretty sure atsumu had a picture of you next to his pillow. ew)

Anyway, the two of you just happened to share the same lunch block, and it also just happens to be the only period block that he was alone

No teammates and no especially close that he could hang out with

That meant he could either study or eat

Had he chose to eat, only to be met with the fact that atsumu had drained both of their lunch accounts for his flavor of the week

Poor baby stood there for a while just processing what was the worst news of his life

When you, a true angel among the evil, said that you would graciously pay for his food so that he didn't outlook so sad anymore

If he wasn’t holding an armful of onigiri he would have fallen on his knees and begged to whatever god was out there to let him keep you

But he settled for thanking you and spending the entire period with you, he even offered to share (for the first time in his life)

You complimented him on his flavor choice and he decided to keep you

He made sure to share his recipes with you and you tried to do the same

And somehow that evolved into you guys going on dates, much to atsumu’s distaste, and you guys were totally hitting it off

Osamu was your official biggest fan, he loved everything you do

But that means he wants to stay your biggest fan, and he knows that you’re pretty well known for boys thinking not so innocent things about you

Again being brothers with atsumu gave him this little sadistic streak

He lets you wear all of the revealing outfits and the bikinis, all for everyone to see

Everyone to see what belongs to him

Like at suna’s party he let you wear a black mini-skirt and a white off the shoulder long sleeved flowy shirt.

You looked good, and all the guys staring at you proved that point tenfold. Three guys had come up to you and tried to get you to go upstairs with them. And it was almost immediately shut down when they noticed the act you were sitting on your boyfriend.

Speaking of, he almost always has you in his lap.

Aww, cute! Not, he like grinding you down on him, that's also why he likes having you wear skirts, easy access to your ass, also a nice way to ensure that he could get more than a few gropes in when he wants

No, it's definitely the way he made you wear thigh highs to school one day and the shortest skirt you owned (like a school skirt) and walked behind you the entire day.

And he just reached behind you and lifted your skirt for the whole hallway to see, but mostly for him

He waists no time when he wants to fuck, he’ll just walk up to and open your legs while making out with either you or your neck.

And yes he has done that in front of atsumu

Who was warned to stay out of their room for a while.

Not to mention all those times he convince you to go to school with no underwear on just for the fun of it

(I didn't tell you this but those off the shoulder mini dresses drive him wild. On graduation day he pulled into a closet and had his way with you. I mean he did say that if you wore that dress he was going to do it, buuuuuut y’know….. yolo)

Kyotani Kentaro

We all know he’s a fighter, which means he gets hurt a lot, which in turn makes him a frequent face in the nurse's office

And who happens to be the nurse's niece? You of course!

And right after school, when your aunt takes her break and leaves you to take care of the office alone

Right after school is also when Kyotani always comes in.

(it’s not like he knew that you would be there alone, and that meant that you had to deal with him and heal him up. And it also is not like he started the fight so he could come here and see you. No not that)

Who am I kidding it was like that.

It was totally like that.

Your hands were just so soft when they put the bandages on and you have to bend down to get the wrapping.

He had a crush, that's what iwaizumi said, and after googling what the symptoms of a crush were he was sure

So with the help of the third years, aka Oikawa just having Iwaizumi repeat what he wanted to say, they had a plan

And the next time he was in the office he asked if you wanted to see a movie with him, it was so cute and he looked so shy

It would have been perfect if after five seconds he tried to take it back, you still went on the date with him though

He was happy.

Angry boy likes hugs

And yes he does, no objections

So when he’s upset he’ll make these grabby hands at you and have you come over and stand with him

He shoves his chin on your shoulder and his hands squeezing your waist and you’ll rock back and forth until he calms down.

He’s also very aware of what you wear

Like how your skirt perfectly frames your legs. How the socks you wear make your legs look 10x longer, and make you look like you’re walking like a model.

Or the dark blue leggings you wore with his alternate jersey and you were cheering for him!

But nothing and I mean NOTHING gets him better than when you wear spandex shorts and one of his shirts. He goes feral every time.

This man is the CEO of picking you up and placing you on his lap, straddle style, and just going ham on you

Not to mention that sometimes when he’s really tired he’ll have you just sitting on his lap while he plays with your thighs

(he also likes playing with your waist and stomach, but he doesn't realize that he’s talking out loud so you can hear all of the “so soft”’s he lets out.

Kuguri

You were one of Mika's close friends so you were always just kind of around

It was a little get together that Daishou threw that really made you two close

It was a weird drinking game of sorts, and it had these teams, and you were out as a pair!

Somehow throughout the game, you guys got side-tracked and just ended up talking to each other the rest of the night

Eventually, you were convinced to go on a double date and the rest was history

He didn't even pay attention to what you wore that much until he heard a few rando kids in the locker room talking about it.

And that’s when he started thinking about just who he was dating

He first realized how round your ass was. Is it normal to look that good in leggings? No one else has ever looked that good to him. With that came his obsession with just touching your butt. He just grabs it or he’ll stop you from walking and palm it. Or he’ll rub circles into it.

(it's cute how intrigued he is by your butt)

Then came his obsession with your thighs. Mostly the way that they spread out when you sit. He didn't even understand why they were just so mesmerizing. They were so squishy too. He likes how they look in his hands-

Lastly was the waist thing. You aren't even sure what it is. He just likes putting his hands on your waist. Like a prom picture. Sometimes he’ll squeeze or run his hands along your sides. But he’s mostly stationary.

He also has this habit of just opening your legs and laying on your stomach.

He is just so into how soft you are.

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drwcn · 3 years

Note

ok but for fem!wwx au does lan zhan believe the rumours? and if so what does that mean for the whole 'i birthed him with my own body!' cause lan zhan did the maths and was like 'no it was just the once and this child is too old' but if he thinks he was just one in a line does he go back to bm after nightless city to rescue a kid he thinks is wei ying's but with another man? does he spend the three years in seclusion cursing every jin whose name he remembers as cowards only to step out, take one look at sizhui, and have an 'oh. i know why wei ying was so determined to save wen qionglin' moment???

Answer: Haha, nah, Lan Wangji was fairly sure Sizhui wasn’t Wei Ying’s, for several reasons. One, Wen Yuan was born before the wen remnants even went to the Burial Mount. Lan Wangji saw the small child amongst the escape party that rainy night at the concentration camp. Also, Wen Ning was several years younger than them, which would make it kind of weird if he were the dad. Before Wen Ning became the Ghost General, everyone just knew him as Wen Qing’s kid brother. Lan Wangji, however, absolutely believed Jiang Yan to be Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian’s child even before Wei Wuxian was resurrected...

《the midnight sun》 —

[original], snippets [x] [x] [x] [x], other posts found under #lanyan or #midnight sun

midnight sun [snippet 7]

When Yan’er turned ten, Jiang Cheng decided it was time for her to accompany him to Cultivation Conferences. Most sect heirs began their training this way; Jiang Cheng still remembered his first time, trailing nervously in Jiang Fengmian’s wake.

Heiresses, in comparison, were few and far between. Even head disciples were rarely girls. Jiang Wanyin had no children. His head disciple was his heiress, and his heiress was Jiang Yueqian (江月千).

长烟一空 - when the smoke clears; 皓月千里 - the moon casts a thousand miles of light 浮光跃金 - which dances upon the water, golden 静影沉壁 - the shadow of the moon itself like jade underwater*

A jade underwater indeed.

“Shifu.”

Speaking of the devil, here she comes, walking measuredly down the long stairs of Jinlintai towards Jiang Cheng, the epitome of an obedient, filial disciple. It had only been a day and Jiang Yan already had the world fooled. Only Jiang Cheng knew how impossibly obstinate and utterly uncontrollable she was when her mind was fixed.

"Ah, Jiang-zongzhu, this is..." Spotting her, Lan Xichen glanced beyond his shoulder, the question dangling in the sentence he did not deem necessary to finish.

Unbeknownst to Lan Xichen, the child that made her way over was his niece by blood. Jiang Cheng was acutely aware that Yan'er actually resembled Lan Wangji a great deal, and despite having weighed the risks and gains against each other repeatedly before deciding to bring Jiang Yan along, now he was no longer so certain in his calculations. Lan Xichen was not a simple peasant; what if he detected a trace or a hint of her heritage between the furrow of her brows or the curve of her eyes? What if...

Jiang Cheng turned, raising an arm towards Jiang Yan, an introduction ready, but whatever words he had prepared in advance died on on his tongue when he laid eyes on the girl. Suddenly, he was no longer worried that others would suspect her to be Lan Wangji's child.

There was a red ribbon in her hair.

Yan'er stopped at a polite distance from the two older men and bowed in perfect form.

Jiang Cheng's heart stuttered violently in his chest at the sight of that red ribbon falling sideway over her small shoulder. If souls could travel, his would have left him in an instant. He stood in disincorporated panic, wrestling with the nauseating sensation of being ripped from his reality and tossed so far into the distant past that he felt whole again.

"Shifu, Lan-zongzhu." Yan'er greeted.

Shifu. Lan-zongzhu. In another world, another life, she would not need to be so formal. She could easily bound up to them, carefree, cooing jiujiu and bobo and ask to be bailed out from whatever trouble she caused.

Instead, he was only her shifu, and Lan Xichen, a stranger in her life. It would be laughable, if fate had not dealt them each such a wretched hand.

Jiang Cheng stepped towards her. “Where did you get this?”

Jiang Yan looked up in surprise, her hand reaching up and making an aborted motion to touch the red ribbon in her hair.

“Qin-shenshen gave it to me. Is it not nice?”

Qin Su. Jiang swallowed down a sigh of relief. Earlier, the Jin servants had sent word that Jin-fu'ren had baked treats for Jin Ling, and the boy had wasted no time dragging his favourite person - his Yan'er jiejie - to his aunt's place with him. Clearly, Qin Su had seized the opportunity to dote on the girl in place of the daughter she never had. Qin Su meant well. She couldn't have known. She's never even met Wei Wuxian.

In this state, Jiang Cheng could barely bring himself to look at his disciple, but he forced himself nonetheless to kneel and tuck an errant strand of baby hair behind her ear. “Very pretty.”

Yan'er smiled.

Jiang Cheng could cry.

They'd been lucky thus far. Yunmeng's Jiang-xiao-guniang was born a taciturn girl who did not like to smile or laugh, not even when she was expected to for polite society. Whether she was happy or sad, one would be hard pressed to tell. Only in front of her master Jiang Cheng or her Jin Ling-didi did she elect to reveal the full expanse of her emotions. Yet, whenever Jiang Cheng bore witness to that smile as warm and incandescent as sunlight, he could not help but shudder somewhere deep. Recalling the radiant days of years gone by, he could still see - every time he closed his eyes - his er-shijie smiling at him in the very same fashion.

Aiyo, Jiang Cheng ~

So...they'd been very lucky thus far, that Yan'er was not so like her mother in that way, not so free and generous with her smiles. Or else this devastating secret —Wei Wuxian's only wish — would not be able to withstand the test of time.

"Very pretty, Yan'er." He reaffirmed. "Did you thank Jin-furen?"

"I did."

Jiang Cheng stood and turned back to face Lan Xichen, and realized they were being joined by two others: Lan Qiren and Lan Wangji. The latter of two stared directly down at Jiang Yan, visibly stricken and unblinking, as though he'd just seen a ghost. After all, he had often been on the receiving end of that signature smile once upon a time. It was probably not a smile he'd ever expected to see again in this life.

In hindsight, perhaps Jiang Cheng should have made Yan'er wear her uniform like all the other disciples instead of her favourite indigo robes.

“Ah, Wangji, shufu -” Lan Xichen was quick to react, sensing animosity brewing in the disquiet that stretched taut between his younger brother and his fellow sect master. "Jiang-zongzhu, perhaps you would introduce us?"

The First Jade smiled kindly down at Yan'er. She returned his kindness with a polite nod.

Lan Wangji finally dragged his gaze up to meet Jiang Cheng's, a rarity since their violent parting at Nevernight. The venerated Hanguang-jun had developed a habit of pretending that Jiang Wanyin of Lotus Pier did not exist at all. He probably preferred, dreamed of it even, if Jiang Cheng had been one to fall of the cliff that day. He probably hated himself for not shoving him into the molten abyss when he could to avenge the love of his life.

Love. What did Lan Wangji know of love? Jiang Cheng sneered inwardly. One did not compromise one's love and abandon her, ill and with child, to bleed out alone in a cave tainted by demonic spirits.

One did not watch idly as one's love and her people are reduced to ashes for the power and greed of men either....

Jiang Cheng buried the offending thought, too familiar with Wen Qing's ghost that still haunted him in his moments of weakness. Without breaking gaze, he laid a hand on the crown of Jiang Yan's head and said, "This is my first disciple, Jiang Yan, Jiang Yueqian."

"Yueqian greets Zewu-jun, Lan-lao-xiansheng, Hanguang-jun."

Jiang Cheng watched as the icy fire within Lan Wangji's eyes flicker, fizzle, and extinguish entirely. Jiang Cheng's vague silence had allowed him the space to make his assumptions, and he had assumed the most insane explanation.

Is it so difficult for you, wondered Jiang Cheng. To believe that she could be yours? So impossible, that you would choose to doubt Wei Wuxian instead?

Fine.

Hanguang-jun. The venerated Second Jade of Gusu. That's all you'll ever be. Yan'er will never call you Father.

Jiang Cheng decided he had spent enough time today making nice. "Zewu-jun, it's getting late. If nothing else, I will be taking my leave. The conference continues tomorrow. I will see you then. Yan'er, come."

Yan'er bowed again to the senior cultivators, perfectly well-mannered. A dash of surprise crossed those bright eyes, however, when Jiang Cheng took her hand to lead her away. She followed wordlessly, trusting him, and did not look back once at the Lans she left behind.

Now that Yan'er was out in society, there would surely be rumours. No matter. Rumours were nothing Jiang Wanyin could not withstand. How ironic, indeed, that this was to be his lot in life.

For the first time, Jiang Cheng felt he could understand his father.

Note:

The poem is from the Song dynasty, by poet 范仲淹 from his work 《岳阳楼记》

Jiang Cheng of course is also working off a lot of assumptions about Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji's relationship. He has his reasons for hating and blaming Lan Wangji, but not all the blame is deserved.

#Anonymous #corie replies #cql #the untamed #lanyan #midnight sun #corie fics #cql ficlet #yes jiang cheng stringed enough brain cells together to come up with a half decent name #ly7

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trulymadlysydney · 3 years

Text

Scorpio Season: Two

Harry is the ghost that haunts the sorority house, Misty is the only one who can see him, and Scorpio season is far too short.

tw: Death, brief mentions of sexual assault, lots and lots of filthy smut

(This is also 26.k words so like... be prepared for a long read)

Read Part One Here

***Do Not Repost Without Permission***

It’s Halloween, and Misty is drunk.

Okay, so perhaps she isn’t quite drunk, but she’s getting there, and Harry is doing his best to take care of her. (And his best isn’t exactly good enough, considering she’s the only one who can see him.)

It takes him fifteen minutes to get her attention, and he lets out a sigh of relief when he finally sees her walking towards him- dressed head to toe like the devil (if the devil were, of course, sexy and wore a skin tight red dress and fishnets).

When she reaches him, she smirks, and he doesn’t know why. “What?” She asks, raising her eyebrows challengingly.

For the sake of Misty’s pride, Harry turns away before anyone can see her talking to nothing. “Follow me,” he says, nodding over his shoulder and leading her into the hallway.

They turn the corner into her bedroom, and Harry gently closes the door behind them. When it’s just the two of them, Misty grins. “What’s up, buttercup?”

Harry smirks. “You doing alright?”

“M-hm!” Misty says with a nod. “You want a drink?”

“Can’t, love.”

Misty’s smile slowly fades into a frown. “You mean ghosts can’t let loose? Have a little fun?”

“Who says I’m not having fun?”

Misty considers his words and offers him a shrug. “I mean you’re just watching a bunch of drunk college kids in stuipd costumes get even more drunk and make out with each other. That isn’t really my idea of a good time.”

“And yet here you are.”

Misty giggles. “You know what I meaaaan.”

“I’m watching you,” Harry says smugly. “That’s all I need.”

She laughs again, turning away so he can’t see the tinge of embarrassment on her face. “Don’t watch me,” she says. “Creep.”

“Not a creep,” Harry insists, plopping onto her bed. “Just want you to take care of yourself. That’s all.”

“I wish you could take care of meeee,” Misty says, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively and punctuating her sentence with a half-hiccup, half-giggle.

Harry doesn’t know if Misty meant to say that, or if she even meant it in the way that he’s taking it, but he knows that if he had a beating heart, it would be racing at her words. He brushes it off, smiling at her softly. “M’taking care of you right now, aren’t I?”

“S’not what I meaaaaan,” Misty says, through another giggle, and now Harry knows exactly how her sentence was meant to be taken.

He laughs. “Sunshine why don’t we get you some water, hm?”

“I like it when you call me that,” Misty says, sauntering clumsily towards Harry. “‘Sunshine.’ Makes me happy.”

“I like making you happy,” Harry replies softly. “Now, will you make me happy by getting yourself some water please? I would get you some myself but, you know.” He gestures vaguely with his hands.

“You can’t!” she says, tittering to herself. “Cause you’re a ghost. I know that.”

Her words sting just the tiniest bit, even though Harry knows she doesn’t mean it in a negative way. He laughs them off anyway. “You’re stalling, Misty.”

“I’m not stalling!” Misty says. “I wish I could stay in here with you all night.”

And God, Harry wishes that too.

“And miss all the fun of the party out there?” Harry asks, eyeing her as she wobbles a bit around the room. “I saw the way those guys were looking at you.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and laughs as she gags.

“Ew,” she says, face twisting up in disgust. “They’re the worst.”

“You didn’t like their flirting? I thought that the trick the one guy did with the beer can on his head was very appealing. Especially with him dressed like a Greek God and all that.”

“You’re stupid.”

Harry grins. “Water, Misty, “ he reminds her. “You need to get yourself a glass of water.”

“Alright alriiiiight!” Misty holds up her hands in surrender. “You’re so neeeeeedy.”

Harry giggles, rising to his feet just in time to steady her a bit when she wobbles. She laughs softly at the feeling of his cold hands against her hips, turning in his arms to face him.

“You smell good,” she says, her face mere inches from his. “Have I ever told you that?”

Harry realizes that he’s held his hands in the same spot for just a tick too long, and he quickly drops them to his sides. “No,” he says, “Never told me that. What do I smell like?”

“Like…” Misty sniffs the air dramatically. “Like cinnamon. You’re laughin’ at me but it’s true! Smells really good.” She frowns up at him, as if a new thought just crossed her mind. “What am I gonna do when you’re gone?”

Now her words really sting, and Harry struggles to just laugh them off this time. Still, he knows tonight isn’t the time for sadness, and he doesn’t want to ruin Misty’s buzz. So he grins. “Buy a cinnamon candle?”

Misty pouts. “Not the same.”

Harry laughs, booping her nose with the tip of his finger. “Now I know you’re stalling.”

“Is it working?” Misty grins mischievously up at him, and Harry shakes his head.

“No,” he says through another laugh. “You little sneak.”

Misty giggles. “But you’ll stay with me, right? All night?”

“If you want me to.” Harry nods. “Yeah. You can’t talk to me though. Unless we’re in here.”

Misty frowns. “I know. Sucks.”

She turns like she’s going to leave finally, but then stops again. “Why can’t you show yourself in front of everyone?” she asks, as if the thought just dawned on her.

Harry sighs, because as much as he knows she’s stalling, it is a valid question. “I suppose I could,” he says, “If I really wanted to.”

“Don’t you want to?”

“Not really, no.” Harry offers her a half hearted shrug, and when he sees her face drop he quickly tacks on, “Not that I don’t want to be able to openly spend time with you, of course! You know I do. It’s just difficult.”

“Why is it difficult?” Misty cocks her head to the side like a curious child, and it’s so cute Harry could burst.

“It’s exhausting,” he explains. “As ghosts we only have so much energy. And it’s affected by the energies of others in the room as well. Manifesting takes up a lot of that energy, especially when you’re manifesting in front of a lot of other beings.” He smiles, pausing to allow her to process what he’s just said before continuing his explanation.

“When it’s only you who can see me, the amount of energy I’m putting forward is far less than, say, the amount it would take for me to manifest in front of everyone else. On top of that, being around all different energies-- feeling them interact with your own-- you sort of adopt those energies as well. You take them upon yourself. I don’t like doing it. It doesn’t feel good.”

“Oh.” Misty frowns. “That sucks.”

“It does suck,” Harry says, nodding his head. “Especially since I can’t walk around tonight and show you off the way you deserve.”

Misty giggles shyly, and Harry beams at her before continuing. “Now if you don’t go and get yourself some water, I’m going to have to expose myself to everyone.”

Misty’s laugh is louder than it usually is, and Harry has no choice but to laugh along with her. “Okay!” she says. “Sorry! God.”

Misty makes her way over to the bedroom door with Harry close on her heels. He holds his arms out just in case she needs extra stabilizing. As soon as the door opens, she’s met with a loud cheering from the people in the hallway.

Harry recognizes Rosie and Greg, but there are two other guys there that he’s never seen before. And by the looks of their cheers, they’re super happy to see Misty.

“Mistaaaaay!” One of the guys, who is dressed as a lifeguard, shouts. “What were you doin’ in your room all alone?”

Harry scrambles to come up with an excuse for Misty, when she surprises him and comes up with one all on her own.

“My little sister was calling me, weirdo,” Misty says. “She forgot our parent’s wifi password.” She glances over her shoulder and shoots Harry a very subtle wink, and honestly Harry’s impressed. He chuckles to himself, shaking his head.

“Quick thinking there, sunshine.”

Misty ignores him but her smirk does not go unnoticed. Her attention is quickly pulled, however, when the original guy speaks up again.

“You’re lookin’ good tonight, girl. You know Josh is looking for you?”

And just like that, Harry’s ears are perked and his stomach is sinking.

“Yeah?” Misty asks, completely uninterested as she tries to push through the crowd. “Well I’ve been here!” She almost seems to sober up, and Harry is intrigued as to why.

“You should go see what he wants.” Lifeguard wiggles his eyebrows, and Harry takes a protective and unintentional step forward.

Misty rolls her eyes, seemingly unbothered. “If it’s really that important he can find me.”

Lifeguard whistles. “Damn, Misty, alright! Not interested?”

Misty spares a quick glance in Harry’s direction. “I’m not, no.”

It should make Harry feel much, much better. It really should. But it doesn’t.

Misty, of course, offers no time for explanation-- which she shouldn’t, Harry knows, but still. She only continues to push through the crowd, with Harry close behind-- and he tries to ignore the random shivers from the people he accidentally walks through.

“Misty--” He says quietly.

“It’s fine.” It’s barely audible, and of course Harry can’t blame her for that; for fucks sake, she can’t look like she’s talking to herself.

Misty stumbles a bit as she enters the kitchen, opening the fridge and reaching inside for a jello shot. Harry keeps a close eye on her-- not because he feels he has to, by any means, but mostly because it’s getting to the point in the night where things are starting to get a bit nutty. The boys are becoming handsier, the girls are becoming more giggly and loud. In his lifetime, Harry had been to quite a few parties-- so he knows exactly the direction this night is headed.

Misty is about to close the fridge when Harry offers her a pointed look. “Forgetting something?”

“Water!” Misty says out loud, without thinking. “Duh! Sorry.”

She reaches into the fridge just as a voice comes from behind Harry. “There you are, babe! Who are you talking to?”

Harry and Misty turn at the same time to see who the voice belongs to, and Harry immediately frowns.

He comes to the conclusion (based on little to no evidence) that this must be Josh-- just by the way he’s eyeing Misty like prey. He’s dressed like Tom Cruise from Risky Business, only he’s left the shirt unbuttoned far enough that his abs (or lack thereof) are visible.

Misty speaks, confirming Harry’s thoughts. “Hi, Josh.”

She sounds less than thrilled to be seeing him, and she goes stiff when he throws a hand around her waist and pulls her in for a hug. He leans in to kiss the side of her head, but Misty quickly ducks away, regaining her distance from him and opening her water bottle.

“Not happy to see me?” Josh pouts.

“No, I am,” she says, unconvincingly. She opens her water and is about to take a sip when Josh scoffs.

“You’re drinking water? Lightweight. Thought you were gonna get lit with us!”

“I am!” Misty insists. “Just don’t want to end my night with my head in the toilet.”

“You know I’d take care of you babe,” Josh says. “What’s in your cup tonight?”

Misty takes a few long sips from her water bottle, eyeing Harry pointedly, before she speaks. “Uh. I don’t know exactly, Kennedy made it for me.”

“Hell yeah,” Josh says, eyeing her glass. “You’re runnin’ low though, want me to get you another?”

Before Misty can even answer, Josh has taken the cup from her hands. He’s walking over to the stash of various liquors on the counter, and Harry immediately moves to stand beside him. He watches carefully as Josh pours the liquor into Misty’s cup.

“Heard you talkin’ in here,” Josh says. “Who were you talking to?”

“What?” Misty and Harry share a quick glance before she speaks. “Oh. No one. I was talking to myself.”

“Yourself?” Josh scoffs, still pouring vodka into Misty’s drink. Harry has to stop himself from reaching out to stop him from pouring. “You’re a little weirdo sometimes, Misty. You know that?”

Harry lets out an annoyed sigh, wanting more than anything to put Josh in his place. Misty only smiles passively. “I know.”

“Quite a bit of fuckin vodka he’s putting in there,” Harry says. “He’s trying to get you drunk, love.”

“I know,” Misty repeats, both to Harry and to Josh.

“Hot little weirdo though,” Josh says, adding only a tiny splash of cranberry juice before turning around to offer Misty her cup again. He pauses, just as he’s about to hand it to her.

“Did it suddenly get cold in here?” he asks, glancing around him.

“I could kill him,” Harry states, emotionless.

Misty has to fight a giggle, reaching forward to take her drink from Josh. “No, I don’t feel anything,” she says. She takes a quick sip, immediately regretting her actions when her esophagus is burned with the taste of vodka.

Misty shivers and gags, coughing in an attempt to get the horrible taste out of her mouth. “Jesus, Josh, what did you put in this?”

“Vodka cran baby!” Josh says. “Know you like those!”

“Vodka with a fuckin’ shot of cran,” Harry adds.

Misty coughs, putting her cup down on the counter. Josh frowns. “You don’t like it?”

“No,” Misty chokes, “I mean it’s fine but… fuck, dude, how much vodka did you put in there?”

“Nothing you can’t handle, Misty!” Josh steps forward, hip checking Misty and nearly knocking her over. “You’re a tough little girl aren’t you.”

“I really could kill him,” Harry adds.

Misty clears her throat, finally done with coughing. “You need to work on your bartending skills, Josh.”

“Yeah?” Josh puts his cup down, moving in on Misty. Before she even has time to react, he has her pinned against the counter, with both his arms trapped on either side of her. She leans her head back in an attempt to get further away from him. He, completely oblivious to social cues, only grins. “Maybe I do. But I know of one skill I don’t need to work on.”

“Josh—“ Misty couldn’t lean any further back if she tried, and she glances at Harry out of the corner of her eyes.

Josh leans in, pressing his lips to Misty’s neck. “C’mon, baby, you know what I’m talking about. Don’t you remember how good it was?”

Harry takes a step forward as Misty manages to get her hands unpinned and shoves them weakly against Josh’s chest. “You’re drunk,” she says.

“And you’re not?” Josh licks his lips, trying to kiss Misty again. “Take another sip then.”

Harry has never felt so helpless in his entire existence, and he doesn’t even think twice before reaching forward to yank Josh off Misty. Misty coincidentally pushes at his chest at the exact same time, sending Josh practically toppling over.

He regains his balance after a moment,, glancing at Misty with a confused look. There’s a thick silence in the air, and Harry instinctively takes a step between Josh and Misty. Josh glances around, as if searching for whatever just yanked him, and Misty shoots Harry a nervous look.

A menacing grin spreads slowly across Josh’s face, and he swipes his teeth with his tongue. “Damn, girl. You’re strong.”

Misty blinks back at him, swallowing. “Josh,” she says slowly. “I’m not interested.”

“That’s not what you said last time.”

Harry feels like his insides are on fire with anger, and Misty rolls her eyes.

“Yes, it is actually. Interesting how you don’t seem to recall that.”

“Say the word and I’ll kill him,” Harry says.

Misty rolls her eyes, which goes completely unnoticed by Josh as he continues his tirade. “Look, I know you’re just being stubborn and I get it! I do.” He picks up Misty’s abandoned drink, sloshing the cup around in his hand. “Why don’t you just finish this drink I made you and then come find me when it hits you and you stop being such a prude?”

Harry can’t hold back any longer, and he doesn’t even think twice before he moves in- slapping the cup and tilting it all over onto Josh’s skin and his stupid white shirt.

Josh shrieks, and the look on his face is a mix between shock and confusion. He eyes the now empty cup in his hand as if he can’t believe he just spilled it all over himself. Misty scoffs quietly to herself.

“Wow Josh, you might want to lay off the drinks.”

“Fucker,” Harry adds.

“I’m not that drunk!” Josh insists, raising his voice and taking a step towards Misty. Harry immediately steps between them once again, ready to push him away at a moment’s notice.

It’s at that exact moment that Kennedy walks in, saving the day. She instantly notices the tension in the room, and her eyes dart between Misty and Josh. She laughs when she notices his spilled drink.

“Woooow,” she says. “What happened here?”

“I stumbled,” Josh laughs, trying to regain his composure and play the situation off. “Misty saw it, huh?”

Misty shoots Kennedy a glance before muttering, “Yeah. It was crazy.”

“Mm,” Kennedy says, and it’s obvious that she seems to have an idea of exactly what happened. She doesn’t like Josh, that much is obvious. Harry is immensely grateful for her, knowing that she’s going to take care of Misty in a way that he can’t. “Well you should probably get that cleaned up, huh? And maybe lay off the drinks a bit.”

Kennedy immediately walks to Misty’s side, and Harry can tell Josh knows his game is over by the look he gives. Neither Kennedy or Misty hint at being upset, and Misty shoots Harry a thankful look.

“I’m not drunk, Kennedy,” Josh lies, a smile on his face that makes it very obvious that he’s offended.

“Okay,” Kennedy scoffs. “How bout you, Misty? Need another drink?”

Misty’s eyes dart from Kennedy to Josh to Harry, who watches her with helpless and sympathetic eyes. Misty wants more than anything to curl into Harry’s side, but she knows she can’t, and she’s thankful for Kennedy for stepping in when she did.

“Uh,” Misty says, clearing her throat. “Yeah, actually, I do. This idiot here spilled mine.”

Kennedy rolls her eyes, but it’s apparent she knows about the situation with Josh. “What a douche,” she teases. shooting Josh a look as if to say she’s not actually teasing-- she means what she’s saying. “Why don’t you go clean yourself up. Misty, I’ll make you another drink.”

Josh rolls his eyes, scoffing as if he can’t believe what just happened. “Yeah,” he says. “Alright.” He winks at Misty, shooting her an overly confident “I’ll see you later” before exiting the kitchen.

Kennedy, Misty, and Harry all watch him exit most ungracefully before Kennedy turns to Misty. “You okay? Like, actually.”

“Yes,” Misty lies.

“No,” Harry adds.

Kennedy rolls her eyes as she gets to work making Misty another drink. “He’s a fuckin douche canoe. I can’t believe he even still thinks he can talk to you.”

“I know.” Misty grabs a paper towel to clean up the bit of the drink that spilled onto the ground. “I don’t either.”

Harry watches Misty, continuing to feel helpless— almost as if he’s butting in on a conversation he shouldn’t be. But he doesn’t move. He remains still, almost frozen in place as he watches Misty clean up the mess he made.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I should’ve planned that better.”

“It’s okay,” Misty says, both to Harry and Kennedy. “I’m fine. He didn’t do anything.”

“He wouldn’t have given up though,” Kennedy says, pouring the actual correct amount of vodka into Misty’s cup. “He’s a creep.”

Misty sighs. “He is. But—“

“No buts.” Kennedy and Harry both say this at the exact same time, and it takes Harry a moment to process.

“God I hate him,” Kennedy says. “Don’t let him intimidate you. Here.” She finishes mixing the drink in Misty’s cup and hands it to her. “Stay with me, yeah?”

Misty smiles gratefully at Kennedy. “Thank you.” She glances over at Harry, a soft grateful smile directed in his direction as well.

Kennedy and Misty make their way out of the kitchen, and Harry once again feels helpless as he follows them. Should he leave her alone? She asked him not to, but now he feels awkward and, if he’s being honest, angry that he couldn’t help her more.

Harry numbly follows Misty and Kennedy through the house and into a cozy but messy living room filled with tons of other drunk people. He feels a slight sense of relief when, immediately upon sitting down, Misty’s eyes search for him. She seems to visibly relax when she sees him, and he smiles sadly at her. He reaches out to stoke lovingly at her cheek, and try as she might to not react, she can’t help but flutter her lashes closed for a brief second and lean into his touch.

The rest of the night seems to pass by slowly. Misty hardly touches her drink at all, and as normal as she’s behaving around everyone else, Harry-- and Kennedy, it seems-- can tell that something is wrong. She seems sad, her eyes less bright, and as the hours tick on she becomes less and less secretive about her glances towards Harry.

The party ends-- finally-- around 3am, with most of its guests falling asleep in various places throughout the house. Misty moves slowly, helping Kennedy clean up the apartment, and Harry follows her anxiously-- wishing he, too, could help.

“Are you okay?” Kennedy asks, once she and Misty-- and Harry-- are alone in the kitchen. “Like, actually.”

“Yeah,” Misty insists. “My buzz just wore off and like… I dunno. I just want to sleep.”

“I get that,” Kennedy says, turning on the sink to wash out a glass. “Well why don’t you go up to bed? I’ll finish up in here.”

“I don’t want to leave it all to you--”

“I’m good! I’m just gonna do a couple more dishes and then head up to bed myself. We can do the rest tomorrow.”

Misty hesitates, glancing from Kennedy to Harry before sighing, smiling a little relieved smile. “You’re the fucking best, Ken.”

Kennedy grins. “Duh. Go get some sleep.”

Misty throws her arms around Kennedy from behind, giving her a big squeeze and pressing the most obnoxious kiss to her cheek before bidding her goodnight. She still seems upset-- something is still very clearly on her mind, but she seems a bit relieved that she’s finally able to leave.

As she pulls away, she shoots Harry a questioning glance, as if asking him to come with her. He nods, holding up his finger to indicate that he’ll be right there. Misty smiles, nodding her head before disappearing out of the kitchen.

Harry turns back to Kennedy, making his way slowly towards her. He reaches forward, hesitating before giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. He’s thanking her, in the only way he knows how to without revealing himself, and much to his relief, Kennedy only jumps slightly before giggling.

“I knew you were here,” she says softly. “Whoever you are. And I know you care about our girl, too. Don’t worry, I’ve got her.”

Harry smiles to himself, wishing he could verbally thank her. But just her knowing about his existence-- and being okay with it, at that-- means more to him than he can explain. So without any more delay, he disappears from the kitchen and makes his way to Misty.

He finds Misty in her room, waiting in the doorway, and she smiles when she sees him. He makes his way quickly into her room and she closes the door behind him, her face immediately dropping the moment it’s closed. Harry waits for her to speak, but she doesn’t-- she only busies herself with retrieving the items she needs in order to get ready for bed.

“Are you alright?” Harry finally asks, voice gentle. He doesn’t know if he should step closer, touch her, hug her, or just stay away, so he stands awkwardly off to the side.

“I’m alright,” Misty says, most unconvincingly.

“You sure?” This time he does take a step towards her. “I don’t think--”

“It’s nothing,” Misty insists. “Seriously. He’s a creep.”

‘You shouldn’t have to deal with him,” Harry says. “Does he treat you like that often?”

Misty pauses, then sighs, nodding her head slowly. “And everyone kinda just… lets him get away with it because….” she scoffs cynically, “He’s Josh.”

“Fuck Josh. Where does he get off?”

Misty shrugs, opening a drawer and rummaging through it in search of a t-shirt. “It’s just who he is. I don’t know.”

“Well I mean…” Harry isn’t sure how to word his next question. “What makes him think that he can mess with you like that?”

“It’s literally nothing,” Misty says, exasperated. She pauses, considering her words before turning to face Harry. She opens her mouth, then closes it, and then finally decides to speak.

“You really want to know what happened?”

“If you don’t mind,” Harry says.

Misty sighs again, removing her little devil horn headband. “We were drunk at a Kappa party my freshman year. We kissed a little. I was… stupid. He kept pouring me drinks, and I just… kept taking them. And….”

Harry waits for a moment, before gently pressing her a bit more. “And?”

“And stuff happened. We didn’t like, have sex or anything. I know that for a fact. But he…” She trails off, lost in thought, before continuing. “I don’t remember a whole lot of it.”

Harry is furious, and he wants more than anything to go find Josh and kick his ass. But he knows that isn’t what Misty wants-- and definitely not what she needs right now. So he stays put, offering her a sympathetic sigh. “Oh, Misty.”

“It’s okay,” she offers. “I remember he made me a drink that was particularly strong. We went up to his room and then… next thing I remember I was throwing up in the yard.” Misty laughs bitterly. “My big was the one that found me. With him, I mean. That’s how I know we didn’t have sex. But she saw what we were doing and I—“ Misty trails off, shaking her head. “I don’t remember it at all.”

Harry swallows heavily as he takes in her words, scanning her face. The way Misty is looking at him right now, with her big soft eyes and genuine smile, he’s feeling guilty for even bringing it up.

“So. That’s what happened.” Misty shrugs. “I wish it didn’t, but it did. And that’s it.”

Harry runs a hand through his hair, feeling for the first time just how cold he really is. The only thing Harry can settle on in this moment is a sigh, and so he lets all of his anxieties out in a big puff of air that actually, admittedly, does make him feel better. As soon as he’s pushed all the air out of his lungs, his guilt increases, and he meets Misty’s eyes.

“Misty,” he says softly, “Sunshine. I’m so sorry.”

Harry reaches for Misty, nervous that he’s pressured her to talk about something so personal. She does lean into his touch-- thank God-- and she lets out the deepest sigh she feels she’s ever let out in her life.

“Harry….I don’t know how to navigate a situation like this,” Misty admits, voice hardly above a whisper. “I only want to make you happy.”

“Darling, you do make me happy. I can’t believe he would ever—“

“It’s not about him,” Misty says. “I’m okay. I’m talking about you. I don’t know how to navigate… this.”

Harry pauses, realizing that she’s talking about the blatant chemistry between the two of them. “Well, I—“

“You’re just…. such a wonderful guy. And I wish—“ she trails off, as if second guessing her words, before starting her next thought. “All I know is that you’re someone I just… want around. All the time.”

“I want to stay around,” Harry says gently. “I wish I could stay around longer.”

“Me too.” Misty smiles sadly up at him. “Our situation is unique.”

“Unique,” Harry repeats. “That’s a nice way of saying ‘weird as hell.’”

Now Misty giggles. “But I like it,” she tacks on quietly. “I like…” She trails off, closing her mouth as if the rest of that sentence hangs heavy on her tongue.

“I know,” Harry offers. “I do, too.”

They stay like this for a moment, before Misty sighs. “I have to get ready for bed now. So--”

“I’ll go!” Harry says quickly. “I’ll let you get to sleep and--”

“No, wait!” Misty holds up her hand. “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna change and stuff in the bathroom. But then I’ll come back so we can… say goodnight.”

Harry wonders what exactly she means by that, but he doesn’t even allow himself to question her. He smiles. “Alright. I’ll be here.”

Misty looks almost relieved. “Alright.”

Misty disappears into the hallway, leaving Harry behind with the silence and his own thoughts. He knows Misty is still a bit buzzed, sure, but her words were pointed. He tries not to overthink what she could have potentially meant by ‘say goodnight.’

He sighs, walking around her room and trying to distract himself from the nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach. He looks at the pictures in the frames along her dresser, the unfinished homework lying on her desk, the paddle made by her “big” hanging on the wall. All these pieces of Misty’s life make him smile, but what really gets him is the framed picture on her bedside table.

It’s a picture of her family, taken from when Misty couldn’t have been more than fifteen years old. She’s smiling the biggest smile Harry thinks he’s ever seen, and she’s the spitting image of her beautiful mother, who stands behind her, laughing.

Beside her mother stands her father, a tall, broad man with some wrinkles around his eyes and graying sideburns. He looks like the kind of guy that Harry would love to chat with, sharing a whiskey neat or two while giving each other shit. He seems pleasant, and he seems like a wonderful man just from this picture alone.

Surrounding Misty are her siblings: an older brother, and a younger sister and brother. Harry wants more than anything to be able to meet them. To have to earn the respect of Misty’s older brother, to spoil her younger siblings and make them love him. He wants to be close to the whole family, really. He wants to be the boyfriend that Misty brings home one year for spring break. The boyfriend who brings a new plant for her mother, who watches football with her father and impresses them with his knowledge of American traditions, despite being british.

Harry wishes, more than anything in the world, that he was still alive.

He doesn’t realize how long he’s been staring at the picture until he’s startled by Misty’s presence as she enters her room once again. He jumps a bit, and Misty giggles.

“Hi,” she says. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Hi. Ghosts don’t get scared.”

“Debatable,” Misty says. Harry gets a good look at her, and he’s completely enamored. He’s just watched her transform from a sexy demon, with dark makeup and long lashes and the plumpest red lips he’s ever seen-- to the most adorable person he thinks he’s ever laid his eyes upon.

Her makeup-less face reveals a few zits on her cheek, her lips look chapped, and she’s dressed only in a long t-shirt and shorts. She discards her costume into her hamper without a second thought, completely unaware of the way Harry is watching her.

“You look cute,” he says, as she pulls back her comforter.

“Shut up,” she says, rolling her eyes as she crawls into bed. “Ew.”

Harry snorts. “I’m serious. You’re so pretty.”

“Well,” she says, plumping up the pillows behind her. “You’re so nice, but I’m going to have to respectfully tell you that I think you’re lying.”

“Well,” Harry mocks, “agree to disagree then.”

Misty relaxes against her pillows, rubbing sleepily and adorably at her eyes for a few moments.

“Thanks for being so wonderful to me,” she says after a bit, pulling the covers up tighter around her hips. “Like, all night I mean. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Don’t be silly,” Harry says. “I care about you. I had fun.”

“Me too. I just…” she sighs, and Harry takes a step towards her.

“What, love?”

“I just wish you could’ve actually like… had a good time. Like, drank and hung out with us and stuff. I wish I wasn’t the only one who could see you all night.”

“You don’t like havin’ me all to yourself then?” Harry fake pouts.

Misty rolls her eyes, but she smiles anyway. “It is nice to have my own personal ghost, but I just… wish you weren’t one.”

Harry smiles sadly. “Me too,” he says. “But I like watching over you. Like your own personal guardian angel or summat.”

Misty giggles. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Feelin’ okay?” Harry asks, trying to change the subject. “Need more water or anything?”

“No,” Misty says. “Think I just need to sleep off the rest of this buzz.”

“Yeah,” Harry agrees. “Sometimes that’s best.”

“Yeah.” There is a weird sort of tension fizzling in the air between them, as if Misty has something else she wants to say.

Harry waits patiently, watching as she avoids his gaze. She seems deep in thought and on the verge of asking something, but when she doesn’t Harry realizes that maybe he’s the one being awkward. Maybe she wants him to leave now and she’s too polite to tell him so.

So Harry clears his throat. “Alright. Well. Goodnight, bug.” He nods in finality. After a few more seconds, he takes a step back before vanishing right in front of Misty’s eyes. He’s about to actually leave, and he figures he can go inspect the house. Maybe see what damage has been done, and try to discreetly clean up a bit in order to help speed up the process tomorrow for what he knows is going to be a very hungover group of girls. But something catches his attention that he absolutely cannot ignore.

“Wait, don’t go!”

Misty’s voice sounds so pitiful that Harry can’t even pretend like he’s not going to come back. He manifests immediately in the corner of her room and he coos at her. “What is it, sunshine?”

“Can you sleep with me?”

She seems so embarrassed to be asking, it makes even Harry’s cheeks flush. “You want me to… get in bed with you?”

Misty nods, eyes bigger than Harry’s ever seen. “Yeah,” she mumbles. “Can you?”

Harry doesn’t remember the last time he spent a night in a bed-- much less with a beautiful girl-- but the thought of doing it tonight excites him. He doesn’t want to come across as too eager, of course, but he can’t help but feel touched by her request, and he all but runs to her side.

As he makes his way towards the bed, he speaks. “I might be a little bit cold,” he offers. He looms over her, reaching down to brush a bit of her messy hair off of her forehead.

“S’okay,” Misty sighs, “I have lots of blankets. Just wanna cuddle. Is that okay?”

Harry smiles at how cute she looks, bundled up and sleepy in her bed. He chuckles softly, reaching to tug gently at her covers to pull them back for himself. “Yeah,” he says, “That’s okay. I can do that.”

As Harry settles himself in bed, he tries not to beat himself up too hard for the slight shiver in her body. She obviously doesn’t seem to mind as she cuddles up close to him instantly. The feeling of her warmth is almost too much for Harry to handle-- similar to the feeling of getting into a hot tub too quickly-- but he doesn’t mind. It feels so good, and if he closes his eyes he can pretend, just for a moment, that he’s human, too.

“Can ghosts sleep?” Misty asks abruptly, tearing Harry from his fantasy and reminding him of his actual form.

Harry chuckles. “Yeah, we can sleep,” he says. “It’s not exactly the same as how you sleep, though.”

“What’s it like then?”

Harry thinks for a moment, choosing his words carefully to explain this in a way that it makes sense. “You know how I mentioned I can visit dreams? When I’m… gone.”

“Yeah?”

“So if I go to sleep while I’m here, I’ll just go there. To the dreamscape. Where I can visit anybody’s dreams that I want. That’s usually how I visit my mum or say, a friend.” Harry chuckles. “Or someone who wronged me in the past. So I can haunt their ass.”

“But you’ll still be here when I wake up right?” She sounds so sleepy, almost needy, and it makes Harry hold her that much tighter.

“If you want me to be,” he answers.

“I do,” she says softly. There is a beat of silence before she’s changing the subject again. “Tell me what it’s like.”

“What?”

“The dream stuff. Like how do you just… do that?”

“Mmm. It’s like… how can I explain…” Harry thinks carefully once again. “I’m in a black… room? Sort of. Like where I go when I’m gone. And there are a ton of doors, right? In this room I mean. And I can enter any one of them that I’d like, at any time. Anywhere in the world.”

“You can enter anybody’s dream?”

“Mhm.”

“At any time?”

“At any time.”

“Woooooow.” Misty’s sleepy exclamation tickles softly against his neck. “That’s so cool.”

“It is yeah,” Harry says, smiling to himself.

“Can you come into my dream tonight?”

“If you want me to, yeah.”

“Can you make me dream about you?”

“Well,” Harry says, tracing a circle into Misty’s spine. “Yes and no. Whatever you’re dreaming about, I can enter it if I want to. But I won’t know what you’re dreaming about until I’m in there.”

“Oh,” Misty says through a yawn. “Ew.”

Harry snorts. “Why ‘ew?’”

“Because what if I’m dreaming something embarrassing?”

“Then I can embarrass you about it forever,” Harry says. “How fun!”

Misty pulls Harry closer, burying her face deep into his neck. He can feel her visible frown, and it makes him smile. “Don’t pout,” he coos, scratching at her back.

“Don’t tease meeee,” she whines, but the way she says it sounds like she has another thought to add on.

Misty hesitates, and Harry gives her time to think about what she’s going to say. She arches her back the teeniest bit, leaning into a particularly good scratch, and it makes Harry smile. Finally, she finishes her thought.

“I actually did have a dream about you the other night,” she says, “although now I’m guessing you already knew that.”

Harry nods. He did know that, because it was his doing. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened; if anything it had just been pretty mundane-- similar to every day he’s spent with her in real life. But it felt more real, more permanent, more tangible. Harry had been careful, of course, not to be too obvious with it-- he didn’t interfere with the natural plot line of her dream as much as he normally would if it were a real visit. He had just wanted to spend more time with her, and it had been lovely.

“Was it weird?” He asks, although he already knows the answer.

“It wasn’t weird,” Misty says. “You were just kinda… there. But I…” he feels her body tense up, and she curls herself even further into his side, as if hiding herself. “I wanted to kiss you so bad.”

Harry feels his breath hitch in his throat, and his fingertips cease their movements along her spine. “Yeah?” he chokes out.

“Yeah,” she whispers back. “Is that weird?”

“It’s not weird, sunshine,” Harry whispers. “I wanted to--” He trails off now, letting the rest of his sentence fizzle out in a sigh. “It’s not weird,” he repeats.

“I’m falling asleep,” Misty announces through the softest yawn Harry thinks he’s ever heard. “It’s not weird right? Like, things between us aren’t weird just cause I got drunk and kinda… confessed some shit?”

“Confessed what?” Harry says. “You’ve told me nothing.”

Misty giggles “You’re a good man, Harry.”

“I’m not a man,” Harry teases. “I’m a ghost.”

“Can you not be annoying for like, one whole second?”

It’s Harry’s turn to giggle now. “Alright, I’m sorry. I’ll chill.”

Misty yawns again, and the feeling of her breath against his neck makes him shiver. He smiles, snuggling his cheek against the top of her head. “Well,” he says. “Goodnight, sunshine.”

“Goodnight, Harry,” she mumbles. Without thinking, she presses the softest little peck against his neck that almost goes unnoticed by him. It makes him freeze, letting out the rest of the air in his lungs in a little sigh. He doesn’t know if he should kiss her back or not, but she doesn’t seem to mind either way. So he lets it slide.

But he spends the entire night replaying the feeling of her lips against his neck over and over and over again.

------

Misty sighs as she reaches into the fridge for a bottle of water. Somehow she’s been roped into a conversation that she wants no part of; gossip between Lindsey and Rosie about Lindsey’s boyfriend who’s been openly cheating on her for weeks. Perhaps she had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, but somehow Misty has found herself listening to the girls chat away, one feeling sorry for herself, and the other kissing her ass.

When Misty closes the door, she jumps when she sees Harry, who has manifested right in front of her. She lets out a frustrated sigh through her nose, and Harry grins cheekily at her, raising his eyebrows and daring her to speak.

“What’s wrong, Misty?” Rosie asks, and Misty realizes her little scare hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Misty glances between Harry and the two girls, who stare expectantly back at her. “Uh,” she says, “Nothing. I… thought I saw something. Sorry.”

“Is it that fucking ghost again?” Rosie’s face grows pale at her own words. “I swear to God if that fucker is back I--”

“No,” Misty says, cutting her off. “He-- it-- isn’t back. Continue with your story.”

Lindsey launches right back into it, hardly giving Misty’s words a second thought. “Anyway, Brad was like, totally flirting with me that night right?”

“He totally was,” Rosie replies.

“Thank you! I thought he was, and Jade thought he was, but then now he’s back with Jessie again and--”

“God who cares about any of this?” Harry’s voice drawls in Misty’s ear. “She’s been going on and on about this for ages.”

Misty sighs softly so that only Harry can hear her. She knows she can’t verbally respond to him, but he hears her response and smirks. It’s then the idea pops into his head.

“Whatever you do, don’t smile,” Harry says, voice low and teasing in Misty’s ear-- a surefire way to make her smile.

The corners of Misty’s lips twinge and she visibly gulps, and Harry knows he’s got her.

“I said don’t smile,” Harry, sing-songs, inching closer to Misty’s ear and trying his hardest to get her to break. “You’ll look like a crazy person. Can you imagine? Lindsey’s pouring her heart out, and you can’t stop smiling? What will they think?”

Misty clears her throat a bit more aggressively than normal as a desperate plea to get Harry to shut the hell up.

“No,” he replies, with a cheeky grin, knowing exactly what her noise meant. “I’m not going to stop.”

Misty holds her breath as an attempt to hold her composure as Harry continues. “Imagine if Lindsey’s water like, came out of her nose right now. Wouldn’t that be crazy?”

Harry notices the way Misty runs her tongue over her teeth, setting her jaw firmly so as not to slip up again. And honestly, he’s impressed. He presses her further. “Did you know I could make that happen?”

This time Misty’s breath hitches, and she eyes Harry threateningly out of the corner of her eyes. “I really can,” he says. “I can snap my fingers and she’ll be like a faucet. A free flowing spirit.”

Harry thinks he’s almost got her, her lips twitch up again and she raises her water bottle to her lips to cover it up. Harry snorts.

“Nah, I’m fucking with you,” he says, “you think I could really do that? Who do you think I am, fuckin Harry Potter?”

Misty rolls her eyes without giving it a second thought, which luckily goes unnoticed by her sisters-- but not unnoticed by Harry. He raises his eyebrows.

“Ope! Careful there. Going to give yourself away, eh?”

When Misty stares blankly ahead, Harry laughs.

“Wow,” he says, “so you’re really not gonna smile, are you? You’re good at this.”

His tone makes Misty think he’s giving up, and she gives a subtle smirk of satisfaction in his direction.

But Harry is nothing if he isn’t persistent. And he is not going to give up that easily.

It’s when Misty raises her arm to run a hand through her hair that Harry gets his idea. He doesn’t even allow himself time to think about it before he’s setting his plan into action. Before he knows it, he’s going right for Misty’s ribs.

Harry digs his hands into Misty’s lower ribs, squeezing a few times, and Misty folds instantly into his arms. She lets out a surprised shriek mixed with an almost honking laugh, and both Lindsey and Rosie stop the conversation immediately to shoot her a puzzled look.

It’s all too good, and Harry is so utterly pleased with himself right now. He’d be lying if he said this kind of power didn’t go to his head, especially when Misty immediately realizes that she’s got to stop giggling. Harry doesn’t let up on her ribs, lowering a hand to pinch softly at her side, and Misty tries desperately to cover up her remaining giggles with a cough.

Harry would also be lying if he said that seeing her laugh like this didn’t turn him on. But that is neither here nor there.

After a few more seconds of tickling her and watching her desperately try to contain her giggles and cover them up with the fakest coughs Harry’s ever heard, he decides to show the poor girl some mercy. He removes his hands from her torso, and it takes her a few seconds to realize she’s free.

The silence that follows is charged with awkwardness, and Harry almost feels a bit bad. Misty, whose face is visibly hot, reaches for her water bottle on the counter and takes several long sips from it.

“You alright?” Rosie asks, slowly raising an eyebrow.

Misty gulps down one more sip and gestures vaguely at her throat. “Yeah, sorry I just--”

“Have a tickle in your throat?”

Harry beams, voice low in Misty’s ear. “Something like that,” he says.

Misty closes her eyes and lets out a long sigh, as if she’s just heard the worst joke of her life. Harry snorts. “I know,” he says. “That was a good one, wasn’t it?”

“Linds, I’m so sorry to interrupt,” Misty says, “But I have this huge paper due in a couple of hours and I’m super behind so--”

“Oh is it that stupid paper for english?” Lindsey nods sympathetically. “I worked on it like, all night last night.”

“Yeah,” Misty lies, “I have to work on it. I promise in a few hours I’ll be right back down to--”

“No worries, baby, do your thing!” Lindsey says, shooing Misty with her hand. “I get it. You’re good.”

“Thanks.” Misty begins making her way out of the kitchen without even sparing so much as a glance in Harry’s direction. “I want to hear all about it later though.”

Misty storms up the stairs with Harry close on her heels. He is giggling the entire way, but Misty doesn’t even smile. It’s about halfway up the stairs that Harry begins to get a bit nervous.

“You have to admit that was good,” he says through his laughter, obviously trying to lighten the mood. “Come on.”

Misty ignores him, continuing her path to her room. When she arrives, she doesn’t even check to see that Harry is behind her. She closes the door a bit harder than she intends, and Harry effortlessly glides through it. The silence that follows is absolutely deafening.

She turns, agonizingly slowly to face him, and the look on her face is unreadable. Harry isn’t sure if the smirk on his own face is appropriate or not, so he tries his best to suppress it while he waits for her to say something. When she doesn’t, his lips twitch.

“I take it you’re angry,” he tries.

“How could you do that?!” Misty hisses, the sort of whisper that’s stupidly loud. He knows she isn’t angry, not fully, but he almost worries he took things a step too far.

“Sunshine, I’m sorry, I didn’t--”

“Made me look like a fucking idiot.” Misty runs her hands through her hair and shakes her head at him. “And for what? So you could get a laugh?”

Harry tries desperately not to smirk, but the corners of his lips turn up ever so slightly-- giving him away. “Yeah.”

Misty stops, not exactly expecting that answer. She pauses for a moment before sighing through her nose and closing her mouth. “Ridiculous,” she mumbles, before brushing past Harry to rummage through her closet.

“I really think you should lighten up,” Harry says, walking over and plopping himself on her bed. “Wasn’t meant to be a personal attack.”

“Lighten up?!” Misty says, whirling around on her heels. She hesitates, realizing that she’s raised her voice a tick too loud. She takes a step towards Harry, lowering her voice significantly before speaking. “You think I need to lighten up? Harry, you--”

“I didn’t mean to ruin your bloody day, Misty, Christ. I was just trying to make you laugh.”

“Well don’t.”

“Fine.”

There’s an intense pause between them, and Harry doesn’t shy away from Misty’s intimidating stare. In fact, there is hardly any emotion on his face at all, and Misty can’t tell whether it infuriates her or turns her on. She can feel the blood rushing to her cheeks growing hotter by the second, and she lets out a flustered sigh.

“You seem like you have something else to say,” Harry states calmly.

It’s so unfair, Misty thinks. It really fucking is. She scrambles to find words to express how she’s feeling, but her brain is cloudy with the thought of how goddamn attractive he is. When she really thinks about it, she isn’t angry at all, really. The thought of Harry being able to do whatever he wants to her- whenever he wants- in front of people both embarrasses her and makes her excited.

Truth be told, she’s never been more excited in her entire life.

Harry raises his eyebrows expectantly. “Well?”

“I don’t have anything else to say,” Misty says quietly.

“Are you sure?” Harry asks, rising to his feet and taking a cautious step towards her.

Misty lets out a frustrated breath, reaching up to push her hair off of her face. “Yes, I’m sure! Will you stop doing that?”

Harry scoffs, mockingly. “Stop doing what, Misty? Trying to call you out on what we both know is true?”

“No!” Misty’s voice is dangerously loud, and she catches herself again before she can get any louder. She rolls her eyes at herself before continuing at a much softer pace. “Stop… looking at me like that.”

And oh, now Harry understands.

Harry shakes his head. “I’m not looking at you like anything.”

“Yes you are!” she insists, closing the space between them just the tiniest bit more. “You’re always looking at me like… like that!” She gestures indistinctly.

Harry licks his lips, eyebrow subconsciously raising challengingly. “I’m going to need you to be more specific, Misty.”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“Sunshine,” he drawls, voice thick as honey, “all I ever want is to make you happy. That’s a promise.”

Misty swallows, nostrils flaring as she tries to get her breath under control. “Harry, I…” She trails off, because truth be told she doesn’t know where she was even going with this thought.

“What?” he asks, taking another step towards her. “Tell me.”

After a beat of intense silence Misty groans. “I don’t know! You’re so annoying and you’re so perfect and you make me so happy and I just--”

“What?” Harry says, inching closer. “You just what?”

Misty lowers her voice, eyes thick with sadness. “I just… don’t want to be feeling this way about you. I can’t. But you make it impossible to not.”

“To not what?”

“Fall for you.” Misty sighs. “I’m trying so hard not to because… well, you’re not actually here are you?”

“Can you see me?” Harry asks, matter-of-factly.

“Well, yes, but--”

“I’m here.” Harry reaches forward, lightly caressing Misty’s arm. “I’m right here Misty.”

Misty glances down to his hand, then back up at him. “Harry, I don’t know what I’m feeling.”

He pulls away, not wanting to pressure her into feeling any type of way at all. “What do you mean?”

“I mean-- God.” She lets out all of her air and shakes her head, almost cynically. “Harry I… really, really like you.”

If Harry had blood running through his veins, it would run cold at her words. “You do?”

“Have I not made it obvious?” Misty scoffs. “Fuck, dude, you’re so perfect.”

“I’m not,” Harry says in a breath. He steps forward. “Misty, I’m not.”

“You are,” she insists. “I want you so bad, Harry. And I’m scared.”

Harry processes her words slowly, and he knows he shouldn’t say what he’s about to say. But he does it anyway.

“I’m scared, too,” he admits softly, feeling more human than he’s felt in a long time.

“I’m scared that I’m going to really fall for you,” Misty continues, “because I know you’re just going to have to leave in the end. And I’m going to be sad, and I’m going to miss you, and—“

“Well then why don’t we just pretend?” Harry tries. “We’ve still got a few more weeks, haven’t we?”

“Yes, but the thought of you leaving won’t go away, Harry! It’s all I can think about. Every time I feel something for you I’m reminded of our situation and how you’ll never actually be mine.”

“I hate it,” Harry agrees, his own voice matching hers in volume now. “I absolutely hate it, but Misty, we can’t let that thought hang over the time we have left like a raincloud.”

“But--”

“You make me feel alive again, Misty!” Harry doesn’t mean to cut her off, but he can’t help it. “I know that’s forward, and we haven’t known each other for all that long, but it’s true.”

Misty looks like she wants to cry, and her eyes feel thick and heavy. She wills herself not to break, taking a moment to regain her composure before speaking. “Harry, I don’t know what to do,” she whispers. “I don’t… we can’t--”

Harry leans in, taking Misty’s chin in between his thumb and forefinger. He tilts her head up softly, effectively quieting her, and she realizes her lips are still parted. Harry can feel her breath, and it feels far too intimate to be real.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, voice tender and quiet.

Misty blinks up at him. “God,” she breathes, “I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that.”

Harry smiles, leaning in gently and fastening their lips together slowly. He takes her top lip between his own, and he can feel her instantly relax against him. She smiles faintly into the kiss as well, but makes no movement to pull him closer— as if she’s still a bit unsure. He kisses her again, then pulls away, scanning her face for any sign of discomfort.

“How do you feel?” He asks after a moment.

“Like I want to do that for the rest of my life.” Misty reaches up to cup Harry’s face and bring him in for another kiss.

Harry, of course, happily complies to her nonverbal request, snaking his hands around her waist and holding her gently to him. He timidly peeks his tongue out, gliding along her lip as if asking for permission, and she willingly submits— opening her mouth for him to lick into.

Misty giggles into his mouth the minute their tongues interact, and it makes Harry pull away. “What?”

“You taste good,” she says. “You taste…. sweet. I don’t know. I love it.”

“Oh.” He grins, pulling her back into him to pick up immediately where they left off.

It’s beautiful, and Harry feels happier than he’s felt in a long time now that he’s finally kissing her. He licks into her mouth softly, trying to convey all the words he isn’t yet brave enough to say.

“Harry.” Misty pulls away, smiling up at him. She’s so happy that it feels like everything her eyes land on is glowing. “God, I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

“Why didn’t you do it then? I wanted it, too!”

“Well why didn’t you?!”

Harry grins. “Wanted to see how long until you gave in, I suppose.” When Misty rolls her eyes, Harry chuckles. “Alright I’m kidding. I guess I was just… scared.”

“Me too,” Misty admits. “I mean… feelings are scary one way or another, but then when you add our situation in there its…”

“Weird as fuck,” Harry says, nodding. “Yeah. I hate it.” He smiles, cupping the back of her neck and bumping his nose tenderly against hers. “But I don’t fully. I’m very happy that I have you, sweet girl.”

Misty smiles, leaning gently into his touch. “Kiss me again,” she asks, “Please.”

Harry grins, pulling her close to him and pressing his lips gently to her forehead. “With pleasure.”

They continue like this for a while, giggly and unsure and so, so happy. It is weird, as they both admitted, but it’s so incredibly wonderful and fills both of their hearts with a warmth that neither of them have felt for a while. And as Harry continues to kiss against Misty’s smile, he forgets his situation— if only for a moment— to revel in the fact that he’s kissing the most beautiful girl he’s ever known.

He doesn’t think his entire existence could ever get better than it is right now.

------

Later that night, Misty sits cross legged on her bed, fresh from a shower and rubbing lotion into her arms while Harry explores her vinyl collection. She’s wearing the cutest t-shirt and pajama shorts combo Harry thinks he’s ever seen, and it’s driving him crazy. Things are definitely not awkward between them by any means, but the whole situation feels silly and exciting, like two middle schoolers who just admitted they had a mutual crush on one another.

Misty nods towards the Fleetwood Mac record Harry currently holds in his hands. “I found that one at a garage sale,” she says. “Luckiest find of my life.”

“No kidding.” Harry turns, smiling at her. He holds the record up. “Do you like Fleetwood Mac?”

“Nah, just thought the vinyl looked cool. I don’t even know any songs by them.”

Harry halts all movement, eyeing Misty to figure out if she means what she’s saying. She’s got him for a moment, her expression remains completely unbothered as she rubs her vanilla lotion into her arms. But then she giggles, face twisting up like she can’t believe Harry would even ask her that. “What the fuck kind of question is that, Harry? Hello? Why else would I have that?”

Harry snorts. “You know what? I’ve had enough of your sarcasm.”

“My sarcasm?” Misty says. “You’re one to talk!”

“Me? I’m a dream!” Harry returns the record to it’s rightful spot and makes his way over to the bed. “You on the other hand--”

Harry reaches for a pillow to whack Misty with, but Misty is quicker. She grabs the other pillow on her bed and shields his attack, squealing as he continues his fight on her regardless. He eventually tosses the pillow aside, going for what he knows will absolutely get her to cave and digging his fingers into her sides.

Misty squeals, instantly bucking into his touch as he squeezes at her. “Wait, no! Fucker! This is cheating!”

“Careful!” Harry taunts, fingers wiggling up to her ribs. “No one else knows I’m here! Would be awful embarrassing if they heard you talking and giggling to yourself, wouldn’t it?”

“Well then fucking stooooop!” Misty whines, wriggling under his grasp. “Why are you making me--” She is cut off by her own cackle before she continues-- “Do this?!”

“Because I can.” Harry beams down at her, leaning down to press a kiss to her nose. “Because it’s cute and you like it.”

“I don’t like it!” Misty practically howls. “You’re annoying!”

“Oh,” Harry says, ceasing the movement of his fingers. “I’m annoying?”

“YES!” Misty whines, pouting up at him.

He smiles, leaning closer into her face and enjoying the heat radiating off of her cheeks. “Do you really not like it?”

Misty pants, catching her breath and smiling up at Harry. “No,” she admits after a beat.

Harry squirms so he’s fully on top of her now. “‘No’ you don’t like it? Or ‘no’ as in you do like it and don’t want me to stop?”

Misty reaches up to cover her face as much as Harry’s body pinning her will allow. “‘No’ as in… don’t stop.”

Harry grins, pressing a kiss to Misty’s nose. “I figured.”

Harry trails his lips lightly along Misty’s cheeks leading up to her mouth, pressing smiley kisses to the soft skin and loving the way he can feel her smile beneath him. “Pretty girl,’ he mutters. “You’re the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

When he finally fastens his lips to hers, Misty sighs. She opens her mouth willingly, allowing him to lick his way in, and she delights in the sweet taste of his tongue against hers. She allows her hand to trail up Harry’s icy neck, tangling her fingers in his hair before she tilts her head away slightly to speak.

“You know,” she muses, “You could be awful mean to me if you wanted to be.”

Harry quirks an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side teasingly. “Do you want me to be mean to you?”

Misty only sighs. “If you have to ask--” She trails off, fingertips lightly toying with the hem of Harry’s shirt. There’s a moment of tense silence in which she bats her eyes up at him innocently, and that’s all the starting gun he needs.

“Ohh, sweetheart,” Harry coos. “You’re going to have to be more convincing than that.”

Misty groans, her facade crumbling away little by little. “I cannnn’t,” she whines, hiding her face in her hands. Harry can see her smile between her hands however, and it eggs him on.

“You can,” he says, voice almost mockingly sweet. He rises to sit on his knees. “Know you can. You just won’t.”

Harry reaches up, trying to gently coax her hands from her face as best he can. “You know why you won’t?”

Misty peeks through her fingers, shaking her head but not verbally answering Harry. He flashes her his cheekiest dimpled grin. “Because you want me to make you say it. Am I right?”

Misty giggles as Harry successfully lowers her hands. “You can’t make me say it,” she says teasingly.

Harry shrugs, placing his hand on Misty’s calf and squeezing lightly. “It’s true. I can’t. Can’t make you do anything you don’t want to, baby.” He walks his fingers up her leg, tauntingly tracing his pointer finger around her kneecap and making her shiver. “But darling, this cute little act of yours is only going to get you so far.

“It’s gotten me far enough, hasn’t it?” Misty licks her lips subconsciously, reaching forward to scratch behind Harry’s ear. “Obviously things have gone my way.”

“Have they?” Harry says, cocking his head. “I haven’t given in yet, have I?”

“How much longer until you do?” Misty asks, giggling nervously.

Harry shakes his head, leaning in to press a kiss to the side of Misty’s chin. “Dunno,” he says. “Wanna see how long you’re going to act like this for.”

Harry presses a few more rapid kisses directly to Misty’s chin before trailing them up to the fleshiest parts of her cheeks. After a few kisses there, he pulls away.

“Your cheeks are so hot, sunshine,” Harry muses, reaching up and tracing a knuckle along the tender skin. “Why?”

“Hot in here,” Misty breathes, voice so low that Harry can barely even make out what she’s saying.

Harry’s honey drip of a voice sends shivers down Misty’s spine when he speaks. “No,” he says with a grin. “That’s not it.”

With his other hand, Harry trails his fingertips down the sensitive skin of her arm, making her squirm a bit. “Know what I think it is?” His fingers squeeze delicately over her hips before resting on her exposed thigh-- where he gives her a soft scratch. “I think somebody is embarrassed about how badly she wants me to be mean to her.”

Harry leans in, pressing an icy kiss to her neck that makes her instinctively tremble. A breathy moan floats past her lips as Harry ghosts his own along her collarbone. He takes his time with this, really inhaling her scent and her warmth as he makes his way down her body. His fingers trace delicately along the waistband of her pajama shorts, her stomach jolting a bit when he hits a sensitive spot on her hips. Misty watches his face with parted lips, so completely enamoured by him and his touch that she’s rendered speechless.

Slowly, gently, Harry lowers his hand to the spot between her legs, feeling the damp heat against the soft fabric of her short pajama bottoms. He grins, slowly adjusting to sit up on his knees once again. He takes her in, her entire body, and allows himself to really savor this moment. When his eyes fall on the beauty between her legs again, however, he stops.

“And you know what else I think?” Harry says, grinning over her as his fingers tease her waistband once again. “I think you like being embarrassed like this. I think you like that I can do this to you, and we’re the only two who’ll ever know about it. Hm? Am I right?”

Misty gulps, goosebumps prickling her skin and lips glistening. She nods. “Yes,” she breathes. “You’re exactly right.”

“I knew it,” Harry says, hooking his fingers into her waistband. “Filthy girl, aren’t you?” He begins lowering the shorts from her hips, never breaking eye contact and smirking at how willingly she complies with his movements. When he pulls the shorts past her feet he flings them carelessly to the floor, then glances down at the ever-growing wet spot on the fabric between her legs. He grins up at her. “Messy thing you are, too. Look how wet you get just from some teasing.”

“Harry--” Misty breathes.

“Love it when you say my name like that, darling,” Harry purrs. He leans forward to press a kiss directly to her bellybutton. The kiss is wet, and the sound of it mixed with Misty’s beautiful sighing is enough to make Harry melt. He can’t help but to close his eyes and take a deep breath in, sighing when he’s met with her heavenly scent. “Smell so fucking good,” he mumbles. “Haven’t smelt anything like this in years.”

“Don’t--” Misty breathes, “Don’t tease.”

“Ohh,” Harry tuts, tracing the spot where her inner thigh meets the fabric of her panties. “Poor thing doesn’t want me to tease?”

He glances up at her from under his lashes, and the look on her face sends Harry over the moon. Her eyes are wide and the smile on her slightly parted lips is so warm and inviting that Harry almost has a hard time keeping this up.

“Well, I find that hard to believe.”

He sinks his teeth into the waistband of her panties without any warning, and she gasps at the sudden sharpness mixed with the temperature of his mouth on her hips.

Misty lets out an unfiltered moan and immediately flings her hand up to her mouth to keep herself quiet. She gives herself only a few moments to compose herself before whispering, “Harry, I… I need you--”

“Aww,” Harry coos, his teeth still hooked around her panties. He shakes his head a bit, curls falling in his face as he pulls the fabric away from Misty’s skin. “Needy,” he mutters, tugging a bit in an attempt to remove the panties.

When the lower half of Misty’s body is exposed to the chill of Harry’s skin, she shivers, and he delights in the movement for the first time since he’s met her.

“Know I’m cold,” he says quietly, teeth still clenched around her panties as he drags them down her leg. “But it feels good, doesn’t it?”

Misty nods. “M-hm…” She’s eyeing him, and he’s moving slowly because he can tell she has something she wants to say. He discards her panties onto the ground and tries not to outwardly show just how fucking delicious she looks right now. He’s practically drooling at the sight of her, but she’s nervous, and he doesn’t want to push her too far. So instead, he trails his nails slowly up her calf, looking only in her eye and waiting patiently for her to speak.

“Nervous?” he asks.

“Well, no,” she says. “But I…” she trails off, squirming when his eyes land between her legs once again.

“What’s wrong?”

“I…” she starts, squirming a bit. “I didn’t shave.”

Harry almost laughs at her when she says this. “Oh, darling. That’s what’s got you so nervous?”

She nods. “Yeah. I mean, I didn’t think… I don’t know.”

“Your pussy looks amazing,” Harry says, deciding to just bite the bullet and be as forward as he feels. “Looks fucking delicious. Smells delicious as well. I certainly don’t mind a bit of hair.”

“You don’t?” she asks, sitting up.

“Are you kidding?” He reaches forward, brushing against some of the hair with his finger. “Fucking sexy as hell. Don’t be silly.”

“I mean,” Misty says quickly, “I suppose it’s probably been, like, a minute since you’ve seen a pussy. So I guess any pussy is gonna be fine. I mean, not to assume your preferences, or anything, but you know--”

Harry leans forward, biting Misty’s thigh and making her yelp. “Shh,” he mumbles. “Please.”

Misty giggles nervously. “Okay,” she says.

Harry leans down and kisses the spot he’s just nipped at, trailing his lips up her thigh and settling himself on his stomach. Being this close to her core ignites something in him that he hasn’t felt in years, and just the smell of her alone makes his mouth water.

With one hand Harry coaxes Misty’s leg up and over his shoulder, and now with a clearer view of her beautiful pussy he licks his lips.

“You’re already so wet,” he observes. “Wanted it this badly, did you?”

“Want you,” she replies, squirming. “So bad.”

Harry takes his time with it, eyeing her body up and down before leaning in to press the most velvet soft kiss directly at her center His scruff tickles her lightly, and she lets out a sigh.

Harry hums against her core before really diving into his work, peeking his tongue out from between his lips to lap delicately at her clit. He watches her from under his long lashes, waiting for a reaction from her as he explores her with his tongue— wanting to find the best spot to really devour.

She watches him intently, as if in a daze, while he sucks at her, and it takes him a moment to realize she’s holding her breath. So he pops off of her clit gently, making her jolt, before reaching up to place a hand on her belly. “Breathe, baby.”

Perhaps Misty didn’t realize she was holding her breath, because she lets it all out in a puff. Her tummy immediately grows a bit and Harry loves it, loves seeing her fully relaxed for him like this.

“You okay?” He asks. “Genuinely.”

“I’m okay,” she says.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Cross your heart?”

Misty snorts. “I swear on my life, Harry, come onnnn.”

He giggles, “Alright alright.” Without any further warning, he leans down and presses the softest kiss directly to her clit, resuming his work and licking against her.

The only noises in the room are Misty’s heavy breathing and soft sighing, mixed with the wet noises of Harry’s mouth-- and it all feels so filthy and intimate that it makes Harry lose himself in his work. He moans, even louder than she does, and it makes her back arch a bit off of the mattress.

“Harry--” she sighs.

Harry tilts his head, ghosting his lips against her thigh. “Careful,” he says. “I don’t have to be quiet. You do.”

Misty smiles to herself, enjoying the feeling of his tongue between her legs. The sensation of his temperature down there is something she’s never experienced before in her life, and it makes the entire experience all the more intoxicatingly wonderful.

“God you taste so fucking good,” Harry mumbles, pulling his head back only slightly and reaching up to rub at her clit. “Like fucking honey. Delicious.” He lowers his fingers to collect her wetness, observing the stickiness coating the digits before raising his hand to her mouth.

He doesn’t even have to tell her to do anything, she’s already opening her mouth and sticking her tongue out. Harry rests his fingertips on her tongue, and she envelopes them with her lips, giving them a nice long suck that causes Harry to make a most obscene noise in the back of his throat.

The temporary distraction lights a fire in Harry’s soul, and he ducks down to bury his face in her pussy once more. She arches her back when he hits a particularly good spot, and she accidentally bites down gently on his fingers— which Harry is surprised to find that he loves the feeling of.

Harry hums against her, wiggling his fingers a bit as a silent request for her to loosen up. She opens her mouth, unable to contain the moan that escapes her lips when she does so. Harry envelops her clit with his lips and sucks harshly, and she squirms against him.

“Harry--” She breathes. “It’s so… fuck-- you’re so good…”

“Quiet now,” Harry mumbles against the skin of her thigh. “Unless you want them to know how filthy you are.”

“I don’t care,” Misty pants breathlessly. “I’ll blame my vibrator, I don’t care, I’ll--- oh fuuuuck.” She’s cut off when Harry sinks his teeth into the flesh of her thigh, and even he moans at the sensation.

“Fucking shit,” he mumbles as he pulls away, admiring the dents that his teeth left and the string of saliva trailing from his bottom lip to her plushy skin. “You taste good everywhere.”

“More,” Misty pleads. “Harry, more, please.”

Harry sits mesmerized by the imprint of his own teeth on her thigh. “They’ll think you’re crazy if they hear you.”

Misty groans, and Harry instinctively reaches up and covers her mouth without hesitation. He considers stopping, punishing her for not listening to him and being loud. But looking up at her, seeing how needy and fucked out she already looks has him weak. So he buries his face between her legs and prepares to finish the job, licking her out like it’s the one thing he was born to do.

Misty’s hand flies to Harry’s hair and she tugs so hard it makes him wince. Honestly, it’s the best feeling he’s felt in ages. No one has pulled his hair like this since long before he died, and the feeling alone causes him to moan out loud against her core.

“Fucking shit, Misty,” he mumbles. “Do that again.”

“You like that?” Misty cries breathlessly, her fingers moving frantically to grasp at his curls once again.

Harry groans, lapping against her clit and enjoying the most pleasure he’s felt in years. “Misty,” he breathes, relishing in the way she twitches against the tickle of his breath against her skin, “You’re so fucking perfect.”

“Fuck,” Misty groans. “Holy shit--”

“Is this good sweet girl?”

“I need more,” Misty cries, and who is Harry to deny her of her simple request?

He reaches down, fingering gently at the wetness pooling between her legs before teasing a single finger into her-- never once removing his lips from her clit.

He sucks harshly while his finger simultaneously searches for the spongy spot inside of her. She squirms around his digit, and Harry has to use his other hand to pin her hips down.

“Hold still,” he instructs.

“I can’t,” Misty whines. “I need another finger.”

She’s practically begging at this point, and it makes Harry so smug. “Ohhh,” he says, lips ghosting her thighs again, “So you’re the one calling the shots, are you?”

He’s teasing, of course, because he knows that she absolutely is the one in control of everything that’s going on right now. But the way she’s dripping, tugging on his hair and practically shoving his face into her-- as well as verbally begging him-- strokes his ego.

“Please,” she groans. “I want-- fuck-- I need to cum.”

Harry smirks up at her, tutting his lips. “Not even embarrassed to be so needy?” he teases. “My god…”

As much as he loves to tease her, though, he wants to make her cum more than anything else. And seeing her on the brink like this-- already-- makes him all the more eager. So he adds a second finger, pumping his digits in and out and lapping at her clit like it’s his last meal.

She lets out an obscene moan, louder than any of the others she’s let out, and he knows she’s close. But for the sake of her pride, he knows she has to stay quiet. So he removes his hand from her hip and presses it to her mouth.

“Quiet,” he instructs, giving her face a little squeeze before putting his entire heart and soul into eating her.

Misty is wiggling like mad now, and it takes everything in Harry to keep his mouth on her. He knows that if he lets go of her mouth to try and pin her hips down again, she’ll expose herself— loudly— so this is a challenge Harry gladly accepts.

She stills briefly when her orgasm hits, and then her thighs are trembling around his face. Her stomach is clenched and she’s drooling against the palm of his hand. Her muffled moans are music to his ears, but they do sort of catch Harry off guard because he’d never guess that she’d be such a vocal cummer. Of course, he isn’t complaining, and he wishes that he could hear her, completely unfiltered, with no one around to catch them.

Misty’s stomach relaxes a little bit at the same time she lets out a few little cries, and Harry realizes that she’s finished-- although her pussy continues to flutter with aftershocks against his tongue. He slowly removes his hand from her wet mouth and looks up at her from under his lashes.

She looks utterly fucked, with tears in her eyes and chest rising and falling gently as she tries to catch her breath. Harry is fascinated, thinking he’s never seen anyone so beautiful in his entire life, and he realizes that he hasn’t moved in a while when Misty squirms beneath him.

He removes his lips from her but continues to watch her, relieved when her features seem to relax and she lets out a breathy giggle. “My god,” she says, voice somewhat hoarse. “That was--”

“A dream,” Harry says, now allowing himself to relax a bit as well. He looks down at her soaked pussy and grins. “You’re messy.”

“Can you blame me?” Misty reaches up to run a hand through her hair. “Fuck, that was good.”

“Yeah?” Harry smiles. “I’m so glad.”

Misty hums, reaching down to playfully muss up Harry’s hair. “Now, come up here so I can take care of you, pretty boy.”

Her words hit Harry’s heart, causing it to sink immediately. “Oh, doll,” he tuts, “God, I wish you could.”

Misty frowns. “What do you mean?”

“No blood in my veins,” Harry explains sadly, still making no effort to remove himself from between her legs. “No blood… no boner. I don’t get hard. I don’t cum.”

“Holy shit.” Misty props herself up on her elbows, looking down at Harry and causing the cutest double chin Harry thinks he’s ever seen. “Seriously?”

Harry nods. “Seriously. So even if you did… I wouldn’t feel anything.”

“Do you…” Misty’s voice gets quiet, as if suddenly going shy. “Do you still get horny?”

“Yeah.” Harry kisses Misty’s knee. “Of course. You think I don’t feel anything while I’m eating your beautiful pussy?”

“I don’t know!” Misty whines. “I feel like there is so much about you that I’m still learning.”

“Well,” Harry says with a sigh. “You turn me on. More than anyone I’ve ever known. My body may not be able to physically show it… but you do something to me that I haven’t felt in years.”

“So I’ll never be able to suck you off?” Misty pouts.

Harry smiles sadly. “I’m afraid not, sweet girl.”

“Holy shit.” Misty frowns. “That fucking sucks.”

Harry laughs. “I mean… it’s not so bad. I get to make you feel good.” He licks softly at her pussy in an attempt to begin cleaning her up, and she flinches out of sensitivity, causing him to chuckle.

“I hate it though,” Harry admits, “kind of. I hate that I can’t…. well… pardon my French here but—“

“Fuck me?” Misty finishes. “You hate that you can’t fuck me? Because I want you to.”

Harry snorts. “Well damn, miss Misty. Never expected you to be so forward but yes, I hate that I can’t fuck you the way you deserve to be fucked.”

Misty frowns. “I just want to make you feel good.”

“You do make me feel good.,” Harry says with a smile. “Every second that we’re together feels better than the last.” He licks at her pussy once again, smiling at the way she wiggles against his tongue instantaneously.

“Now,” he says, “let’s get you cleaned up and get that English paper done, hm?”

-------

It’s the night of Misty’s sorority homecoming, and Misty is having a less than ideal time.

It isn’t that the venue isn’t wonderful, or that her friends aren’t being lovely. Everything seems perfect from the outside, and Misty knows she should be enjoying it. But her problem isn’t with the event itself— it’s the fact that she’s here alone.

Because the one person she’d wanted to bring as her date happens to be a ghost.

Harry had watched her get ready all day, constantly telling her how gorgeous she looked and laughing, amused, when she’d tried countless times to get him to give in and come with her. Of course he wasn’t going to do that, and she understood, but still.

He’d sent her off with a kiss, reminding her one last time how absolutely stunning she looked and promising to be waiting up for her the minute she returned home. And she’d left, reluctantly, because she knew he was right— she did need to go off and live her life.

But god, what she would give to have him here right now.

“Misty!”

Misty realizes she’s been staring at the wall, the drink in her hand nearly spilling over, when she’s startled out of her thoughts. Angie walks excitedly towards her.

Angie, of course, looks stunning. She’s wearing a long, blue gown that compliments her eyes nicely, and her hair is done up in curls that are so perfectly put together they don’t even look real. She flashes Misty a warm smile as she approaches.

“Girl!” she says. “What’s wrong with you? You alright?”

Misty smiles, realizing that she probably looks silly all zoned out like this. “Yeah, no, I’m good! Sorry. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“You look sad,” Angie says, worry creasing her eyes. “You sure you’re just tired?”

Misty sighs, because god, she really wishes she could explain her situation to Angie. Or anyone really. “Yeah, I’m good. Sorry.”

“Well you should get out there and dance!” Angie says encouragingly. “The DJ kinda sucks but like, if you take a shot beforehand it’s not that bad.”

“He does kinda suck, doesn’t he?” Misty giggles.

“Oh, also…” Angie hesitates before speaking her next sentence. “Josh is looking for you.”

Misty rolls her eyes, but Angie continues talking. “I knoooow, I know he sucks but like… I don’t know, maybe if you got drunk and made out a little bit it would--”

“Why would I do that?” Misty asks. “He came here with Brooke anyway!”

“Oh yeah, and she’s pissed about it,” Angie giggles. “Everyone knows he was just trying to make you jealous. Poor Brooke.”

“Yeah,’ Misty says. “Josh sucks.”

“You know, I don’t know why you won’t give him a chance!” Angie leans against the wall, taking a sip of the bright orange drink in her glass. “I mean, he like, very clearly wants you.”

“I don’t want him,” Misty replies. “Like, at all. If he can’t take a hint, then--’

Misty trails off when she notices Angie squinting over her shoulder. “Who the hell--” Angie whispers.

“What?” Misty turns slowly, and her jaw drops when she sees what it is that Angie is looking at.

In walks Harry, physical body and all, waving at everyone like he’s known them all his life.

Is she dreaming? Surely she has to be. She shakes her head, then reaches up to her forehead as if to check her temperature. Can everyone else see him? How is he here?

Her movement catches Harry’s eye, and he beams at her, turning his full attention towards her and heading in her direction. “Misty!” He calls, waving at her.

Angie’s jaw is practically on the floor, as are the jaws of almost every girl in the room. “You know him?” Angie asks.

And honestly, Misty isn’t sure what the right answer to that question is. “I--” is all she can manage to get out.

Harry approaches, and Misty is not only greeted by his delicious cinnamon scent, but a strong, spicy cologne. He looks delicious in this suit, and when he hugs her she shivers, partly because of his cold skin and partly (mostly) because she can’t believe her eyes.

“Hiya, darling,” Harry says, wrapping Misty up in a chilly hug and kissing her cheek. “You look absolutely beautiful tonight.”

“Thank you,” Misty manages to stammer out, although her facial expression must give away how confused she is.

Harry only smiles down at her, reaching up gently to close her mouth. He then turns to Angie with a pleasant smile. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” he says, extending a hand. “I’m Harry.”

Angie wastes no time, reaching forward to shake his hand quickly. She seems taken aback by the temperature of his hands, but Harry pays it no mind. Instead he brushes it off with a quick, “Don’t mind the cold hands. Can never quite get used to the weather out here.”

Misty giggles, awkwardly, wrapping her arm around Harry’s back. “Darling,” she says, as forcibly normal as possible, “I had no idea you were coming tonight.”

“Wanted to surprise you!” Harry answers cooly, before turning back to Angie. “I’m sorry, love, I didn’t catch your name…?”

“It’s Angie!” Angie blurts, cheeks growing redder by the minute. She giggles like a little schoolgirl. “Misty never mentioned she had a boyfriend… much less such a handsome one.”

Harry smiles. “I’m flattered, Angie. Thank you. But no, actually, Misty and I are just casual for now. We met a few summers ago during her spring break back home. We’re… oh, I don’t know what to call it… talking? I suppose?” Harry laughs, grinning down at Misty.

Misty, still in shock, misses a beat before realizing that he’s addressing her. She laughs stiffly. “Yes,” she says, “‘talking’ is a good word.”

Harry grins back at Angie. “And you? Where’s your lucky fellow tonight?”

“Oh,” Angie says, biting at her lip, growing visibly excited at the mention of her date. “He’s um… he’s somewhere around here. I guess we’re uh— talking as well.”

“Ah,” Harry says, “I see.”

He’s so ridiculously chipper, so casually cool, and Misty is growing more and more impatient by the minute. She laughs, accidentally cutting Angie off just as she begins a sentence.

“Angie, I’m sorry, but would you mind if I took Harry outside for a bit? I didn’t realize he was going to be here tonight and we… uh…” She looks up at Harry, who only grins smugly back at her, “We have a bit of catching up to do.”

“Oh sure!” Angie says. “Of course, babe, go have fun.” She smiles brightly at Harry. “It was so nice meeting you, I’ll catch up with you both later, yeah?”

“Yeah!” Harry says, warmly. “Of course!”

Misty smiles at Harry, but the look in her eyes informs Harry that she has a lot to say. He smiles, so ridiculously casual and sweet, and takes her hand.

“After you sunshine,” he says.

Misty rolls her eyes, but she does smile softly to herself as she leads him outside. Harry doesn’t know if she means to, but she gives his hand a slight squeeze as she walks. He gives her hand a squeeze right back, far more intentional than hers, and her breathy little giggle does not go unnoticed by him.

Harry eyes the room, taking in his surroundings and looking for who he has decided is his number one enemy in life (and technically death)-- Josh. He doesn’t find him at first, and he has to admit that his heart sinks a bit at the thought of not being able to show Misty off right to Josh’s face. But then he finds him, outside smoking a cigar with a few other guys, and Harry perks up once again.

Misty doesn’t even acknowledge the boys as she continues to lead Harry to a quiet corner of the garden, but Harry of course isn’t going to stand for that. Not when he has the satisfaction of seeing Josh’s face light up upon Misty’s arrival only to completely drop half a second later when he sees she’s with somebody. Harry’s not letting it end there.

“Evening, guys.” Harry raises his free hand to his forehead, giving the group an effortless salute. “Gorgeous night, innit?”

Josh takes the bait, immediately stepping out of the circle and making his way over to Harry and Misty. Misty doesn’t even notice until Harry is resisting her tug, and when she turns around to see who’s approaching she rolls her eyes. “Fuckin hell,” she mumbles.

Harry, of course, has the complete opposite reaction, smiling warmly right back at Josh.

“Hey man!” Josh says, holding out his free hand. “I’m Josh. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you around?”

“Never been around,” Harry says matter-of-factly. He takes Josh’s hand with a grip so firm Misty can sense it. “I’m Harry.”

“Nice to meet you, Harry!” Josh’s smile is so fake Misty wants to scream, and she wishes she could evaporate into thin air to escape the awkward tension in the air right now. “How do you know Misty?”

“I’m from her hometown!” Harry says. “Met her a few spring breaks ago. We’ve been casual for a while now.”

“Have you?” Josh looks pointedly at Misty, and she rolls her eyes. Harry never looks away from Josh.

“I would say so, yeah,” Harry smiles. “On and off of course.”

“I see.” Josh nods stiffly.

“Oh wait!” Harry says suddenly, as if a thought has just occurred to him. “Ohhh, you’re Josh! Misty here has told me quite a bit about you!”

Misty can feel the blood rushing to her cheeks as she glances frantically between Harry and Josh. Josh smiles.

“Oh yeah? All good things I hope!”

“Mmm…” Harry says in a questioning tone, shrugging a bit but maintaining his smile.

Josh stares blankly back at Harry, completely unsure of how to process what he’s just said, and Misty can’t help but giggle.

“Okay, well!” she says, trying and failing to hide the smile on her face. “This has been super lovely but Harry and I have quite a bit of catching up to do, don’t we?”

“We sure do, pumpkin!” Harry wiggles his nose exaggeratedly at Misty and she laughs. He turns back to Josh. “Nice to finally meet the famous Josh,” he says. “I’m sure I’ll see ya around!”

“Uh,” Josh stammers. “Yeah. See ya.”

Misty tugs Harry away from Josh and over to a secluded corner of the garden, and Harry shoots Josh a pointed and intimidating look over his shoulder before turning to Misty. She tries to be serious, but she can’t stop herself from giggling.. “Harry what the hell!” She hisses.

He smiles. “Surprised? Happy? Do you want to kill me?”

“Um, yes to all of the above!” Misty lightly slaps his arm. “What are you doing here?!”

“Wanted to surprise you,” he says, reaching forward to gently hook his pinky with Misty’s. “Figured a beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be alone on a big night like this. I wanted to help make it special.”

Harry leans in and places a kiss right on Misty’s cheekbone. “Besides,” he says, softer, “I couldn’t give Josh the satisfaction of thinking he had a chance tonight.”

Misty giggles, oblivious to the way the nearby group of boys are all watching her longingly. Harry laughs along with her, kissing her nose and then her smile. “Are you happy, sunshine?”

“So happy,” she says, kissing him back. “Beyond happy.”

Misty pulls away, eyeing Harry in his suit. Never in her life has she ever seen a more handsome man, and she lets out a hum of satisfaction. “But,” she says slowly. “I don’t… understand. Your energy--”

“I’ll be fine, love,” Harry insists. “It’s one night. As long as you’re happy.”

“Yeah but--”

“No buts.” Harry smiles. “Now, something tells me you haven’t danced much tonight. Is that true?”

Misty smirks. “Didn’t feel right dancing without you.”

“Well, that’s a shame,” Harry says. “We’ll have to fix that, won’t we?” He holds his arm out to her, raising his eyebrows.

Misty eyes his arm before giggling and linking arms with him. She shakes her head. “I can’t believe you.”

Harry leads her back inside, shooting Josh one more pointed look before holding the door open for Misty. She’s like a giggly schoolgirl as she walks through, taking Harry’s hand in hers and giving it a long squeeze.

Misty practically floats onto the dance floor as a slower song begins, and Harry can’t believe she’s real. He twirls her under his arm, admiring the way her skirt swishes and catches the dim lights. She beams up at him brightly before wrapping an arm up around his shoulders and pulling him in. They begin swaying together as Harry pulls her in closer by her hips; the scent of her perfume just below his nose. He can feel her sigh contentedly against his chest, and it makes him smile to himself.

“It’s so nice to finally dance with you like, out in the open and stuff,” Misty says. “Instead of looking like I’m possessed.”

Harry laughs. “I know. It’s nice to be seen. It’s nice to show off my dancing.” The minute he finishes his sentence, he spins Misty out, then in, before dipping her. She squeals, giggling up at him and going limp in his arms.

“Love hearing you laugh like that,” Harry says, mirroring what he’d told her the first night they danced together. “I mean it.”

He pulls her back up into him, her hair flying behind her. “No one makes me laugh the way you do,” she admits. “I love it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.’

A comfortable silence falls between the two of them for the next few moments, and they can’t seem to keep their eyes off of each other. Harry let’s out a boyish giggle and leans forward, pressing a peck to her nose.

“You know,” Misty says. “You’re actually a pretty good dancer for a ghost.”

“I’m not sure whether I should take offense to that or not.”

“It’s a compliment,” Misty laughs. “I’m just impressed. A lot of guys I know aren’t really good at dancing.”

“I was known to be quite the dancer in my day,” Harry says, spinning her out and then quickly back into him once again.

“Really?”

Harry gives Misty a soft little hip check. “Not at all.”

Harry and Misty laugh their way through the rest of the dance, hardly even realizing when the music slows to a stop. Harry leans down, pressing the sweetest kiss to Misty’s lips before she even has a chance to say anything, and she smiles into the kiss— communicating exactly how she’s feeling just by her kiss alone.

After a few more dances, they make their way to a table, giggling and out of breath. Harry orders Misty another drink, socializing with everyone at the table like he’s known them his whole life. And as Misty watches him through slightly buzzed and love drunk eyes, she allows herself to feel, just for the moment, that everything in her little world is perfect with Harry.

———

About an hour and a few drinks later, Misty wanders into the restroom, leaving behind a very happy Harry— who chats effortlessly with the other people at their table. She realizes halfway through her journey that her face hurts from smiling, and she giggles to herself quietly.

Her situation may be incredibly unique, but she’s so lucky to have Harry here on her arm this evening. She giggles, throat thick with the sweet drink she’s been sipping on and eyes hazy, before washing her hands and making her way back out into the hallway. No one is around, and she begins to make her way back into the large dance hall when she nearly runs someone over as she turns the corner.

“Oh, sorry!” She looks up, immediately relieved to find that it’s Harry she’s bumped into.

He smiles down at her. “Slow down there, speed racer. Where are you going in such a hurry?”

“Coming to find you,” she says, smiling at him. She rises up onto her toes and kisses his chin.

“Mm.” Harry hums, tilting his head to kiss her lips. “Having a fun night?”

“Yes.” She wraps her arms around his waist, pressing her face to his chest and inhaling the delicious cinnamon scent of him. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Yeah?” Harry presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Me too. So glad.”

Misty pulls away, licking her lips and adjusting Harry’s bowtie that she’d accidentally muffed up. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine!” Harry insists. “Like I could run a marathon.”

‘Oh yeah?” Misty eyes him quizzically, and he laughs.

“I mean… no,” he says. “But I feel fine.”

Misty groans. “You’re using too much energy.”

“Will you stop?” He asks, pulling her closer by the small of her back. “I’m fine.”

“Promise?”

‘Promise?”

“Swear?”

Harry chuckles. “Swear.”

“Cross your heart?”

Harry boops Misty’s nose. “And hope to die.”

Misty rolls her eyes, reaching up to comb her fingers through Harry’s slightly messy hair. “You’re not funny,” she says, booping his nose right back. “But you are handsome as hell. Especially tonight.”

“Yeah?” Harry tilts his body, tugging at the ends of his suit jacket. “Like it? Picked it out myself.”

“How?”

Harry winks. “Magic.”

“Oh god,” Misty giggles. “Well, however you actually did it… I’m glad you did.” She runs her hands along his shoulders and down his arms, squeezing his hands gently. “You look fucking delicious.”

“Hardly. You’re far too sweet to me, angel, but I figured that if I was going to be this beautiful girl’s date tonight, I needed to look the part.”

Misty hums, pulling him in by his lapel and buttoning her lips with his. He smiles against her mouth, and she licks eagerly against his bottom lip. He knows exactly the kind of mood she’s in just by the way she’s kissing him, and he reaches up to cup the back of her neck.

“God,” she breathes, lips ghosting his. “The things I would do to you.”

Harry gulps, loving the forwardness coming from her pretty lips. “Yeah?” He nods, as if urging her to go on.

“Mm, I could devour you. It’s all I want.”

Harry tilts his head, pulling Misty closer and kissing her ear. “What else do you want?”

“To feel you,” she says. “I bet you’re so big.”

Despite having no blood in his veins, Misty’s words stroke Harry’s ego and twist his stomach into knots. “Mm,” he hums, trying to maintain his smug demeanor. “I am, actually.”

“Damn.” Misty pouts, softly fingering at Harry’s bowtie. “God I wish I could suck you.”

Harry gulps, because fuck does he sure wish that as well. He raises a hand to brush Misty’s hair back from her face, eyes flickering between her lips and her eyes. “I know, sweet girl. Me too.”

They spend a few moments just looking at one another, speaking without words. Harry gently caresses her cheeks, wishing more than anything that his touch wasn’t so damn cold. He clears his throat softly. “We have to get back out there, you know.”

“I know,” Misty sighs.

‘You look so beautiful.” Harry smiles, reaching forward to take Misty’s hand in his own. “Never seen anyone so beautiful.”

“You’re one to talk,’ Misty says softly, making Harry scoff. “Can’t take my eyes off of you.”

“Then don’t,” Harry teases. “Does wonders for my ego when you look at me like that.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

Misty hums, reaching up to thumb at Harry’s cheek. “I want you,” she says quietly. “So fucking badly.”

“Yeah?” Harry says softly, gears turning in his head as he realizes the exact kind of mood Misty is in. “What is it you want exactly, baby?”

Harry has only known Misty a short time, comparatively speaking, but he knows her well enough to know exactly what buttons to push. He knows what that look in her eyes means, and he knows how to turn her on with only his words.

He also knows that making her put into words exactly what she wants turns her into a messy, embarrassed puddle that turns them both on. So he watches her expectantly.

“Well,” Misty says slowly, heat radiating off of her face. “I want…. To suck you off.”

“I know,” Harry coos, trailing his fingertips along her jawline. “Said that already. But you know you can’t, baby. Doesn’t work like that.”

“I hate it,” Misty pouts. “I just want to make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

“Making you feel good makes me feel good,” Harry says. He waits for a response, and when it doesn’t come, tense idea forming in his head comes to fruition.

He reaches around to cup the back of her neck, scratching lightly at the hair there. “You want me to make you feel good right now, pretty girl? Hm?”

Misty snaps almost fully out of her trance then, glancing around nervously. “Harry, we can’t right now. Are you joking? We’re in public--”

“Why not?” Harry grins down at her. “You know I can disappear. Make it so that only you could see me.”

“Yeah but--”

“Nobody would know,” he shrugs, tacking on a quick, “that is, if you can keep quiet for me.”

Misty sighs sharply at his words, and he chuckles.

“Sunshine, if you don’t want to, I won’t.”

“No, I…” Misty lowers her voice, despite the fact that they’re still the only two in the hallway. “I want to.”

“Yeah?” Harry asks. “You sure? Not trying to pressure you.”

Misty looks up at him, a nervous smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “You’re not pressuring me. I’ve always wanted to do some raunchy shit like this.”

“Oh yeah? Bit of an exhibionist are we?”

Misty giggles. “Harry.”

“I’ll go under the table. No one will even know I’m there. Even if they look.”

“But where should I tell them you went?”

“Hm.” Harry hums, considering this for a few moments. “Cigar break. Went out to smoke. You were out with me for a bit but I got a phone call and you got cold. So you came inside.”

Misty frowns. “You don’t smoke.”

“I’m also not a living human being, but here we are.” Harry grins, pulling Misty in closer and lowering his voice. “Gonna let me make you cum, pretty girl? Hm?’

“Yes,” Misty whispers back, shyly avoiding his gaze. “Yes.”

“In front of all these people?” Harry asks teasingly. “Naughty.”

“Harry--”

He laughs, pressing a kiss to her nose. “Alright, alright. Go sit at the table. I think they’re about to serve dessert anyway.”

“And you’re going to miss it?” Misty pouts.

“Misty,” Harry says, “You know damn well I’m going to be enjoying my own dessert.”

Misty rolls her eyes. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

“You did, yeah.” He pinches her butt. “Now go. Please. I’m hungry.”

“Oh my godddd. Fine.”

She presses one more quick kiss to Harry’s cheek and turns to leave, but he reaches forward-- taking her hand and spinning her back around. “Wait.”

“Hm?”

“When I come in, you’ll be the only one who can see me. You’ll have to cover for me when I get under the table.”

“Okay.” Misty nods. “I’ll pretend I dropped something under there, and I’ll lift the table cloth.”

Harry grins. “Alright. Good girl.”

“God,” Misty laughs, “You’re relentless, huh?”

“What do you mean?” The way Harry’s smiling, he knows exactly what Misty means.

“You just want to get me as worked up as you possibly can, don’t you?”

“You caught me.”

Misty rolls her eyes. “God you’re annoying. Okay, I’m going. See you soon.”

“See you soon, bug.”

Misty turns once again to exit, and Harry gives her bum a quick and subtle slap, which makes her giggle.

As Harry watches her go, he tries to ignore the ache in his bones. He’s exhausted-- of course-- from exuding so much energy, but he doesn’t even care. It feels so good to feel alive again like this. To be on the arm of a pretty girl, in the midst of a bunch of young happy people with their whole lives ahead of them.

He sighs, pushing his yearning feeling far out of his head and ignoring the exhaustion in his body. He’s going to give Misty a few minutes to get settled in her seat before he joins her, and he thinks maybe he should go hide in the bathroom for a moment to give himself a bit of an energy break.

The idea is quickly shattered, however, when Angie and her date turn the corner, giggling all over one another. Angie stops dead in her tracks as soon as she sees Harry, and she grows visibly embarrassed.

“Oh! Harry! Hi!”

Harry smiles politely. “Hello Angie. This must be your lucky man.”

Angie smiles shyly up at her date. “Yeah,” she says, “this is Eric. Eric, this is Harry. He’s Misty’s date tonight.”

“Hey man!” Eric removes his arm from around Angie’s shoulders and holds it out for Harry. “Nice to meet you!”

Eric seems like a pleasant guy, a bit on the short side with big brown eyes and hair that has been perfectly gelled for this evening. Harry shakes his hand warmly, grateful for the fact that Eric hardly seems to even notice the temperature of his hands.

“Where you from, brother?” Eric asks. “Never seen you around before.”

“I’m from Misty’s hometown.” Harry nods. “Known each other for ages. It’s a sort of casual thing between us, you know?”

“Right on!” Eric grins. “Sort of casual for Ang and I too, I suppose.”

Angie’s face falls just the slightest bit for only half a second, and if Harry had blinked he’d have missed it. She smiles. “Yeah!” She adds. “Super casual.”

“How wonderful.” Harry grins. “You’re a lucky man, Eric.”

Angie blushes at Harry’s words, then gives Eric’s arm a squeeze. “Harry you’re way too nice.” She lets go of Eric’s arm, turning towards the restroom door. “I’m gonna run to the bathroom, if you guys will just excuse me for a second.”

Harry and Eric mumble their goodbyes as Angie makes her way quickly into the bathroom. Harry smiles at Eric, nodding his head as a parting gesture before turning to make his way to Misty.

“Wait, Harry.”

Eric’s voice surprises Harry, and he whirls back around. “What’s up man?”

Eric seems hesitant, opening his mouth and then closing it. He laughs, as if embarrassed of his own self, before speaking. “Man… I don’t know why I’m asking you this.”

Harry steps back towards Eric, his friendly smile never leaving his face. “You alright?”

“No I’m good! I just… maybe it’s cause I’m drunk… but I’m--” Eric sighs. “Dude, I don’t know what to do.”

“About what?”

“Angie,” Eric admits. “You know, like, I really like her and I-- I don’t know.”

“Mm.” Harry nods. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know if… if she feels the same.” Eric seems nervous, and Harry smiles reassuringly.

“Are you kidding me? Do you not see the way she looks at you?” Eric’s eyebrows furrow, as if what Harry is saying makes no sense to him, so Harry continues. “She looks at you like you hung the bloody moon, mate.”

“Seriously?”

“You know, I asked her about you earlier. ‘Course, I didn’t know who you were. But when I asked who her lucky man was, her face lit up like the sun. How long have you been an item?”

Eric smiles a dimpled smile, seemingly relaxed. “Almost two months now, I would say.”

“Why the hesitation, then? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Eric sighs. “I don’t know, man. I guess I just…I don’t want to do things wrong.”

“You want to know what I think?” Harry takes a step forward.

“Yeah. If you don’t mind.”

Harry takes in a big breath, pondering the words he’s about to say. He opens his mouth, then closes it, before taking a step towards Eric. “I think,” he begins slowly, “that life is too short.”

Eric chuckles. “Man, it really is, huh?”

Harry nods. “Way too fucking short—pardon my French- to let perfect moments pass you by.”

“Yeah?”

“Mate, if you really feel this way about her, and you know you have this beautiful connection… why wait? You know what I mean? There were--er, are-- so many moments in my life that I look back on and think, ‘god if only I hadn’t been so stupd. If only I had done this, or said that. If only, if only, if only. And I think…” Harry sighs. “I think that when it comes to telling someone how you feel about them… it’s important to be honest and vulnerable. That’s what makes you feel human.” Harry smiles, almost lost in his own thoughts.

“And feeling human,” he adds, “The good and the bad, is what life is.”

Eric doesn’t reply right away. He smiles, taking in everything that Harry is saying to him. “Shit dude,” he says, after a long while. “That’s some profound shit.”

“Nah,” Harry says, playing it off with a cheeky smile. “We’re just drunk.”

Eric laughs at this. “Maybe. But that was really good advice.”

Harry shrugs. “Just telling you what I wish someone had told me.”

“Yeah.” Eric grins. “Well thanks man. Ang and I were coming over here to like….” Eric lowers his voice, “.... do stuff, but like, I want her to know it’s more than that for me. You know?”

“I know.” The door to the women’s restroom begins opening and Harry raises his eyebrows cheekily. “Off you go then,” he tacks on quietly.

Harry turns to exit just as Angie enters, and he can’t help but feel somewhat giddy in his stomach for Eric. He hears Eric and Angie chatting softly behind him when he’a suddenly stopped by the sound of his own name.

“Harry!”

Harry turns on his heel. “Hm?”

“Thanks.”

Angie glances between Eric and Harry, a bit confused but still smiling. Harry shoots her a quick wink before raising two fingers to his eyebrow and saluting Eric loosely. Eric smiles, an unspoken confirmation between him and Harry, and Harry rounds the corner, leaving him and Angie to talk things out.

And now, there’s only one pressing matter on Harry’s mind:

Making Misty cum until she can’t think straight.

Misty’s stomach churns as she watches Harry enter the room. She is so nervous for what she knows is about to happen, and yet she’s so excited. She makes casual small talk-- of course about Harry-- with the others at her table. “Yeah he went out for a cigar and then got an important phone call from work” and “oh yeah, we met a few springs back. It’s been very casual” and “God, I know, he’s handsome, isn’t he?”

Harry’s eyes never leave Misty’s face, and he’s smirking so deeply it makes Misty’s stomach (and other parts of her) twitch. “Hiya, baby,” he says quietly, and Misty has to raise her drink to her lips to cover up the enormous smile on her face.

“You remember you have to help me out here?” Harry asks, and Misty doesn’t answer him. Instead, she subtly knocks her knife off of the table.

It doesn’t cause much of a commotion, just enough for the others at the table to glance in her direction. “Oops!” Misty says, “My bad!” She leans over, lifting the tablecloth and shooting Harry a subtle glance.

He grins. “Sneaky girl,” he mutters, before dropping to his knees and crawling under the bit of space that Misty has opened up for him.

Misty tries to cover up the rustling of the tablecloth as Harry crawls, and luckily the movement goes pretty much completely unnoticed by all of her drunken peers. Harry settles himself beneath the table, and grins at her. He presses a kiss to her knee.

“Still good with this?”

“Yes,” Misty whispers. “Are you?”

Harry scoffs, gently running his hands up her calves. “What a dumb question.”

Blood rushes to Misty’s cheeks as she drops the tablecloth and sits up straight. She offers the others at her table a forced smile, but no one seems to notice or care. She squirms, parting her legs ever so slightly.

Harry reaches for the bottom of her long dress, taking his time and really teasing her by building up anticipation as he drags the fabric up her calves. He kisses the skin he exposes as he goes, taking care to love on her knees a little extra because he knows they’re sensitive. Misty instinctively opens her legs a bit more, and Harry chuckles quietly.

“Gonna need you a bit more open than that, love.” He gently pries her knees apart, bunching up the fabric of her dress and gasping quietly at the sight before him when he realizes what he’s looking at.

“Ohhh, baby,” he breathes, “no panties?” He reaches forward with a single finger, teasing at where he knows she’s already damp. “My god, you’re a dream.”

She wiggles a bit in her seat, hoping for more friction from Harry’s finger, and Harry chuckles almost menacingly. “Squirmy little thing, aren’t you? Barely even touching you yet.”

Harry leans in, pressing another slow kiss to her knee before trailing his lips and tongue up her thigh. He drapes the skirt of her dress over his head, immediately shivering at the feeling of her warmth and wondering if she likes the sensation of his coldness.

Under the protection of her skirt, all Harry can see, hear, and smell is Misty, and he takes a moment to really soak it all in. Her scent is intoxicating, and he swears that if he were alive, he would be more than content to live out the rest of his days with his face buried between her legs.

Harry takes a big deep breath in through his nose, and exhales slowly, making a point to blow against her skin. He can feel her subtly shiver, and he grins. This is going to be easier than he thought.

For him at least.

“Now careful,” he taunts. “Gonna keep quiet for me?” He smirks, pulling away to tease her skin lightly with his finger. “That was a trick question. Know you’re going to because you don’t have a choice.”

Misty kicks lightly at Harry, and he grunts. “Ouch. Feisty thing.” He grins. “Alright, alright. I’ll stop teasing.”

And somehow, Misty doesn’t believe him.

Harry leans in, licking and kissing softly at her clit, just to get her nice and relaxed. His curls tickle at her thighs, and he hooks his arms around her legs to hold her in place. He’s hardly even started, and yet she’s already so wet. He’d be lying if he said that didn’t do wonders for his ego.

He can faintly hear the conversation going on above the table, but he does make out his name and something about missing out on dessert.

“He’ll be fine,” Misty says. “I’ll grab him a slice in a bit.”

“What a generous girl you are,” Harry mumbles, although he isn’t sure if Misty’s heard him or not. If she had heard him, though, he doesn’t give her time to react. He opens his lips wider, lapping at her clit from a new angle that makes her shiver. She squirms in her seat, lowering herself just a bit so that Harry has easier access, and he unhooks one of his arms from her legs to rub gently at her clit while he repositions himself.

Misty squirms against him, and her hands make their way under the table. Harry isn’t sure what exactly she’s doing until her skirt is lifted up from over his head, and he blinks in the dim light.

“What, baby?” he asks.

She threads her fingers through his curls, squeezing, before gently trying to push his head back down.

“Oh you want my hair?” Harry chuckles. “Cute.”

He licks gently at her clit, enjoying the way her fingers scratch a bit harshly into his scalp. He hums. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Misty jolts when Harry kisses a specific spot, and he chuckles. “Ohhh...You liked that, didn’t you?” Harry pulls back, examining the spot he just kissed. “Noted.”

Harry leans in then, attacking the same spot he’d just been lapping at, and the way Misty yanks suddenly at his curls informs him that it’s definitely a good spot. He moves his hand to grip either side of her waist.

“Misty,” Harry gulps quietly, grasping at her as if he can feel her slipping through his fingers. “Baby, please, I need—“

Misty’s fingers curl into Harry’s hair even more, tugging slightly until Harry finds himself with his forehead pressed to her thigh. He shivers, mumbling against her skin, “Need you to open up just a bit more for me, baby.” Without thinking, he presses a kiss to the fleshy spots just below her pussy as she continues to scratch affectionately at his head. “You’ve done such a good job. Been good so far. Need you open.” Harry sponges kisses along the hem of her dress.

Misty pulls Harry’s head up gently by his curls and rubs her thumb along his cheekbone before squeezing lightly at his cheeks, opening her legs more and pulling him closer to her pussy.

Harry needs only that squeeze as a starter gun, and then he’s off. His hands find their way up to her hips as he bunches up her skirt. He presses several chaste kisses to the velvet soft skin of her inner thigh, taking his time to soak in her warmth before attaching his lips to her pussy again.

He flattens his tongue along her, licking a long broad stripe just to get the wetness all soaked into his tongue before wrapping his lips around her clit. He sucks softly, flicking his tongue between his slightly parted lips to give her a heavier sensation.

Misty hums quietly, letting her nails trail along his scalp to the back of his neck. He knows she wants to moan, and it only encourages him to work harder. He removes his lips from her clit with a popping noise that startles her, and she lifts the tablecloth ever so slightly. Their eyes meet, and Harry can tell she’s already fucked. He grins.

“They couldn’t hear that,” he reminds her. “You’re the only one who has to keep quiet here.”

There’s a visible lump in Misty’s throat as she sighs, begrudgingly removing her eyes from Harry and focusing on the party occurring around her. Harry clicks his tongue.

“Ohh,” Harry coos, “poor baby. Feels so good and she can’t even moan for me, can she? Sweet girl.”

Harry pulls the tablecloth out of her hands, yanking it back down before resuming the movement of his tongue against her clit. She squirms against him, obviously growing impatient.

“You love this so much,” Harry says, “don’t you, sunshine?”

Harry doesn’t know if he’s ever in his existence had it this bad for anyone before, and somewhere deep down he knows that Misty fully cognizant of the power she holds over him. It’s exciting for the both of them really, and Harry knows that Misty does not take it lightly. Still, he loves the exhilaration of teasing her to no end-- he loves how wet it gets her and he especially loves being the only one who gets to see her like this.

Harry lets out a low-bellied grunt, and Misty sighs, an almost inaudible mumble of “oh god” passing her pretty lips. Harry removes his mouth from her clit, tilting his head to attach it instead to the sensitive skin of her inner thigh with a mumbled coo of, “Careful.” He sucks harshly, pulling until he feels her skin against his teeth and then he lets off with a pop. Misty wants to moan so badly it’s killing her, and Harry can see her toes curling in her heels. He kisses the spot he’s just bitten, where he knows a mark is already beginning to blossom.

“Feel how wet you are?” He asks. “Feel how messy you get just from a bit of teasing? Are you not embarrassed to be so wet??”

“Christ.” Misty’s voice is so low only Harry can hear it, but he smiles against her inner thigh when he does.

“How cute,” he muses, reaching out to feel the stickiness pooling between her legs. “I wonder what everyone would say if they knew how messy you get for me.” He brings his fingers to his lips, tasting the wetness against his fingertips and humming to himself. “Wonder if they can smell you.”

Harry buries his tongue directly into the center of her and shakes his head a bit, ignoring the one loose curl of his that falls into his face. He can feel Misty’s entire body tense up, and he knows she’s close. He takes his opportunity to make it a million times worse for her; with one hand he reaches up and spreads her lips further apart. With the other hand, he gently tickles at the back of her knee.

She squirms, partly from his touch against the sensitive part of her leg but mostly from the sensation of his tongue against her clit. He can see her fingers clench against her chair, and he smiles before buying his own fingers inside of her warmth. Misty all but lurches forward, and Harry is almost worried he’s given her too much too quickly. Still, he’s nothing if not a tease, so he curls his fingers gently inside of her.

He smirks, deciding that she’s had enough teasing and wanting to make her cum. He can hear her let out a quiet, breathy giggle, obviously confused at the sensations she’s feeling, overwhelmed with the desire to both laugh and moan, and when he thinks she’s had enough he pulls his fingers away from her knee.

Harry hums against her core, shaking his head. “Cum for me, sweet girl.”

Misty grips the edge of the table at the same time Harry notices her stomach clenches, and then he knows she’s cumming because her knees begin trembling. He can feel her orgasm pulsating through her, and he works her through it patiently with his tongue. He curls his fingers a bit more, and sucks a bit harsher, and for a moment he completely loses himself in his own actions.

He’s never seen Misty so wound up, and she lightly stomps her heels against the ground in frustration. He knows she feels good-- hell, he feels good, too-- and he tries his best to keep her as grounded and still as he possibly can.

It’s when she tangles her fingers in his hair to lightly tug his head away that he realizes he hasn’t stopped, and she’s completely spent.

Harry sits for a moment, staring at her soaked pussy and now slightly bruised thighs, and he admires his work. She combs her fingers lovingly through his curls, and he knows she’s thanking him for making her feel so good. It’s then, of course, that he realizes exactly how exhausted he is. He turns his head to kiss gently at her wrist, then allows himself to sit for a moment and catch his breath.

He doesn’t know how much longer he’s going to last like this. He’s never used this much energy in manifesting before, and he didn’t expect it to be this hard. But Misty is having a wonderful time, and of course so is he— he doesn’t want the night to end by any means, but god, is he ready to lay down.

Harry musters up all the strength he can manage and taps Misty’s knee. “Can you let me out, sweet girl?”

It takes Misty a moment before she lifts the tablecloth, pretending to mess with her heels. She gives Harry the softest smile the moment their eyes meet, and she looks completely wrecked in a way that only he would recognize. He chuckles.

“Got you that good, did I?” He begins crawling out from under the table, trying his best to cover how exhausted he is. As he passes Misty he presses a chaste kiss to her nose, making her giggle. “I’ll be back.”

He rises, weakly, to his feet-- and he hopes Misty doesn’t notice how slowly he moves, but she does, and she frowns. He brushes it off, refusing to make it into a big deal, and then disappears from sight.

Misty is left, trying to cover up the fact that she’s struggling to catch her breath-- and she smiles the moment she sees Harry physically enter the room.

He’s grinning- because of course he is— and his finger guns in Josh’s direction do not go unnoticed by Misty. She rolls her eyes as he approaches the table, smiling brightly at everyone in the small circle.

“Sorry,” he says convincingly, “my mum called.”

Misty smiles up at him. “Oh that’s okay, my love! Everything okay?”

Harry grins at her, reaching over to take her hand in his own. “Everything is absolutely fine. Couldn’t be better, in fact.”

Misty grins, obviously flustered just by the way he’s looking at her. “Yeah?”

He leans forward, kissing her nose lightly. “Yeah.”

Harry turns to everyone at the table, smiling that charming smile that Misty is so obsessed with. “Now,” he says, “Am I too late to get a slice of this cheesecake?”

----

Harry drops, completely spent, onto Misty’s bed. As soon as she closes the door behind her she rushes to him, immediately undoing the laces on his left shoe.

He’s paler now, his skin looking thin and white, and he smiles sleepily down at her as she gets to work tugging his shoe off. She seems worried, but he only chuckles.

“Had so much fun with you,” he says, voice weak. “Did you have fun?”

“Harry, you shouldn’t have put so much energy forward.”

“Wanted to,” he says. “Worth it.”

“Harry,” Misty coos, tugging the shoe off of his foot before working on the other. “My god, look at you.”

“Just sleepy,” Harry says. “I’ll be completely back to normal tomorrow. Promise.”

Misty is unconvinced; she frowns as she tugs off his other shoe before sitting fully on the bed, crawling up the length of his body.

“I’m gonna undress you,” she says. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” he sighs, “‘Course it’s okay.”

Misty begins by unbuttoning his suit jacket, then the buttons of his shirt. Harry watches her the entire time, reveling in her warmth. “Feels nice to be taken care of like this. Wish you didn’t have to.”

“Harry, it’s the least I can do. You’ve done so much for me. You shouldn’t have come out tonight. You should have…” She notices the way he’s watching her, and it catches her off guard. “What?”

Harry grunts, trying weakly to prop himsef up on his elbows. “Do you realize,’ he says, voice frail, “that this is the most fun I’ve had in years? That getting to feel alive, with the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known, is worth any pain I might be in now?” He catches Misty’s worried frown, and quickly tacks on, “But I’m not in pain. Just sleepy.”

Misty sighs. “I can’t help but feel like it’s my fault.”

“Awfully selfish of you,” Harry teases. “Not everything is about you, you know.”

Misty rolls her eyes, using all of her strength to sit Harry up and remove his jacket. Harry chuckles, a weak laugh that trails off into a cough. “I promise,” he says, as she settles him back down. “I’m okay. I’m just sleepy. It’s not like I’m dying.”

He watches her expectantly, waiting for a reaction and obviously proud of his stupid joke.

Misty shoots him a deadpanned glare that makes him cackle. “Come onnn,” he says, “that was a good one!”

“How can you still be so annoying when you’re so exhausted?” Misty says, chuckling as she works to unbutton his shirt.

Harry doesn’t answer her, propping an arm up behind his head and watching her work. She allows her eyes to trail down his body as she reaches the bottom button, pausing at a small patch of hair she notices leading from his bellybutton down into his trousers. Her breath hitches in her throat as she comes to the realization that she’s never seen him beneath his clothes.

Harry seems to realize this at the same time, and his smile fades just a hair. “What, baby?”

Misty doesn’t answer him. Instead she slowly pulls the two sides of his shirt apart further, exposing his entire torso. She lets out her breath slowly, surprised at how completely normal he looks. She reaches a hand forward but stops herself, unsure if she should actually touch him.

“You know I used to have a tattoo there,” Harry offers.

Misty’s eyes flicker from his tummy to his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I had a ton actually. But I guess when you die, they don’t come with you.”

“What were they?”

Harry trills his lips. “God I had so many I don’t even remember all of them. There was a butterfly right here--” he points to the direct center of his stomach, --”some swallows here--” his collarbones, “and…” Harry smirks, pointing to his hip bones. “Some ferns here.”

“God.” Misty continues to scan at his body, eyes landing on a soft purple mark on his ribs.

Harry knows immediately what Misty sees, and he smiles softly at her, taking her hand in his as his face takes on a far more serious expression. “Where I landed,” he explains. “When I—“

“Oh my god...” Misty is torn between wanting to touch the scar and wanting to leave it be, and Harry seems to be completely sympathetic to that because he only chuckles.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” He asks. “Took me a while to get used to.”

“I didn’t…” Misty trails off, confused as to how she should even word her question. “I mean, I didn’t think—“

“I know,” Harry says. “It’s weird. I mean how could you ever even know what to expect to see on a ghosts body? How could you expect, like… a sign of death on another body.”

“I just—“ Misty genuinely doesn’t know what to say, and she’s so thankful that Harry doesn’t pressure her at all.

“I know,” he repeats. “It’s weird.”

“Can I…” Misty’s voice is hardly above a whisper when she speaks. “Can I touch it?”

Harry smiles softly. “If you’d like.”

“I--” Misty trails off, unsure of what exactly it is that she’d like to say. She reaches forward with a timid hand, almost pulling her hand completely back before touching the gentle purple mark. It’s not raised-- she doesn’t know why she was expecting it to be-- but it’s colder than the entire rest of his body. She gasps without even realizing what she’s doing. Harry flinches slightly at her touch, but he doesn’t move.

He allows Misty to run a loving finger over his scar, taking in exactly what it is she’s looking at, before he speaks. “Are you alright?”

“What?” It takes Misty a moment to realize what he means, and she tears her eyes from the scar immediately. “Oh god, yeah, sorry. I’m okay, I just--”

“It’s weird,” Harry says for what feels like the ninetieth time. “I know.”

Misty sighs, hesitating a bit, as if she wants to say something more. She scans his body again, glancing up at his eyes sadly, before slowly moving forward.

She moves as if in slow motion, and Harry watches her with baited breath. She squirms a bit, angling her body a certain way, and lowering her face towards his torso. Harry realizes with sadness what she’s doing, and pressure builds behind his eyes when she lowers her lips to the purple scar. She presses the most velvet soft kiss Harry thinks he’s ever felt into his flesh, and his eyes cloud with mist.

Misty trails her lips from his ribs up to his collarbone. There is nothing but love in her movements, and Harry tries to swallow down a lump in his throat. His breath is shaky as he looks down at her, loving on his body.

She seems lost in her movements, kissing all over his torso as her lashes flutter slowly. She lowers her lips to his stomach, and he can’t stop the single tear that slips from his left eye.

He hasn’t been loved on like this in years, and he’d almost forgotten what it felt like.

There is no sexual intention behind her kisses, and her low breath from her nose tickles gently just above his belly button. Harry reaches up to dab at his eye, trying to prevent another tear from escaping. “Misty,” he says, voice cracking the slightest bit. “Darling--”

“Harry,” she says softly against the skin of his tummy. She lifts her head, looking into his eyes and giving him a sympathetic smile. She reaches up to wipe at his cheek with her thumb, and she doesn’t move her hand away when she’s done. She sighs. “You are so, so beautiful.”

“Misty,” he says. “I don’t--” He trails off when she pecks at his collarbone, trailing warm, wet kisses up his neck. She noses at his cheek when her lips hit his chin, and then she’s kissing his lips. It’s all so gentle, so ridiculously intimate and sweet, and Harry doesn’t even realize he’s still crying when two more tears roll down his cheek.

“My sweet boy,” she says, pulling away to wipe gently at his cheeks. “My god.”

“It’s not fair,” Harry whispers. “It’s not fair.”

“I know,” she says, continuing to run her thumbs over his cheeks. “I know, baby. But it is what it is. And Harry…” She smiles softly. “We can’t let it hang over the time we have left like a raincloud. Hm? Remember that?”

Harry laughs in spite of himself, knowing that she’s repeating his own words. “I know,” he says. He reaches up weakly to cup her face as well. “I just want to be able to love you the way you deserve. Fully. Without fear.”

Misty’s heart freezes the minute she hears Harry speak the word “love” but she doesn’t react. Instead, she leans in, kissing his jaw. “Harry,” she says slowly. “I know it’s not ideal. But you have given me the best month of my entire life. I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”

“Don’t,” Harry says, “Don’t say that. You don’t need to thank me. Misty I--”

“Shhh.” Misty rubs her thumb along his bottom lip. “I know.” She smiles now, trying her best to hold back her own tears. “I’m so… so thankful for you. My beautiful boy. We will meet again, okay? I promise you.”

Harry swallows thickly. “I know we will. I’m coming back the moment I can.”

“See?” she says, smiling. “And next time will be even better. But you know what?” she sniffs, feeling herself slip further into sadness and begging herself not to cry. “We’ve still got a few more days, yeah?”

“We do, yeah.” Harry chuckles, reaching up to wipe at his eyes. “God, I’m a sap aren’t I? I didn’t think this was going to hit me so hard.”

“It’s good, my love! Sometimes it’s okay to let your emotions out like this. You’ve done so much for me. Let me love on you a little bit for a change.”

“You love on me constantly!”

“No,” Misty says. “Not enough.” She kisses him again before sitting up. “Let me get changed. We’ll go to sleep. We both need it.”

Harry watches her rise to her feet, and he reaches up to wipe at his damp face. “You’re too good to me, sunshine.”

“Yeah, yeah. You can thank me later.”

Harry snorts and Misty throws him a joking glance over her shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”

Misty disappears into the hallway, making her way to the bathroom to wash her face, brush her teeth, and put on a t-shirt. She allows herself a few tears, crying quietly to herself for only a minute because god, it hurts so bad. It hurts feeling something so deep for somebody who isn’t even alive; for someone who she knows she’s going to have to spend 90% of the next year without.

As soon as she allows herself that moment of weakness, however, she forces it to pass. Wiping her tears away, she continues with her bedtime routine, making sure she doesn’t look like she’s been crying before making her way back into her bedroom.

When she gets there, Harry is fast asleep on top of her bed-- still in a state of various undress. She recalls him telling her that ghosts don’t sleep, not exactly, but he looks so peaceful-- wherever he is right now.

Misty works to gently undress him the rest of the way as he blinks sleepily, hardly even responding to her at all. And when he’s in only a pair of boxers, Misty crawls into bed beside him after turning off the light.

She rolls onto her side, watching him as he sleeps-- or, whatever it is ghosts do. He looks so beautiful, and she reaches forward to gently stroke at the scar on his ribs again. She loves him, she thinks. Even though she’s only known him for a short amount of time, she loves him. And there’s an ache in such a weirdly specific part of her heart that she can’t even begin to put into words.

Pressing the gentlest kiss to Harry’s temple, she cuddles into his side, and he subconsciously wraps an arm lazily around her. Misty wills herself not to cry-- not to think about the situation at all-- as she drifts gently to sleep.

-----

It’s a somber day. Colder than usual. Misty sits with her feet dangling over the side of her bed, and Harry stands off in the corner of her room, nervously fidgeting with some of the trinkets on her shelf.

They know it’s coming. They’ve known it was coming for the last few days, but they’ve both been avoiding the subject, pretending that if they just ignore it, it will go away.

But it won’t go away. And Harry has to leave.

Harry glances out the window. It’s gray outside, matching the atmosphere in the room. The trees blow angrily outside Misty’s window, and Harry swears he can feel the wind in his body.

“Looks like it’s going to rain,” he remarks casually.

Misty doesn’t reply, and he turns around to see her just staring sadly at him. She isn’t crying, not yet anyway, but her eyes look damp.

“Are you sure you can’t stay?” Her voice is quiet, like she doesn’t want to be asking the question, and she won’t even look directly at him. It makes his heart-- however dead it is-- feel like its shattering, and he takes a step towards her.

He brushes her hair behind her ear. “You know I wish I could,” he says, equally as quiet.

“And what would happen if you just… didn’t?”

“Didn’t what?”

“I don’t know. Didn’t… go?”

Harry smiles sadly. “It doesn’t work like that. I don’t have a choice.”

Misty opens her mouth, then closes it again. Her breath hitches in her throat before she lets it all out in a sigh. “What’s it like?” She’s speaking in a whisper.

“What is what like?” Harry matches her tone.

“When you… go, I mean. The process. Do you just like, fall asleep? Or is it like you just blink and you’re in the void?”

Despite the heaviness of their conversation, Harry chuckles. “Somewhere in between, I suppose.”

“Does it hurt?” She gulps subconsciously, and she looks so curious and cute right now Harry could scream.

He shakes his head. “No. Doesn’t feel like anything.”

“So one minute you’re here and the next you’re just…” She trails off, and Harry sighs.

“Gone,” he finishes somberly. “Yes.”

After a beat, Misty chuckles bitterly. “Seems a bit unfair.”

“I’ll be back the first moment I can be,” Harry says, then adds with a smile, “If you’ll have me.”

“Of course I will,” she says, finally turning to face him fully. She takes his cold hands in her own, and her warmth makes him shiver. “I’ll wait for you every single day.”

“Don’t say that,” Harry says, shaking his head and sitting beside her on the bed. “You have a life to live. I don’t.”

Misty’s eyes grow damp, but she blinks back the tears just as quickly as they arrived. “But I’m going to miss you so much,” she says through a shaky voice.

It all seems silly, really, for Harry and Misty both. But neither of them can help it. This connection they’ve formed in such a short amount of time weighs heavily on both of their hearts. And Harry is certain that he would do just about anything in the universe to get another chance at life, if only to be with her.

“I’m going to miss you so much it’s going to hurt me every second,” Harry says, not a trace of humor in his voice despite the slight exaggeration.

Misty lets out her breath in a loud, shaky sigh. She rests her head on Harry’s shoulder, and for a while they just sit there like this, him and her, pretending with all their might-- if only for a few minutes-- that this is just another day for them. That Harry is human, and that they can grow old together.

“I have a selfish request,” Misty says after a while.

“Anything.”

Misty takes a deep breath. “Will you come visit me? In my dreams?”

“You already know that’s my plan.”

“Every dream?”

Harry chuckles. “Well, that’s a bit of a tall order. I don’t know if I’ll be able to come every night. But, as often as I can, and as often as you’ll have me, I will come.”

“Promise?”

Harry turns to kiss Misty’s forehead. “I promise.”

Misty closes her eyes and leans gently into Harry’s kiss, breathing in the scent of cinnamon that she’s grown to love so much. “So when does it happen?” she asks, almost hesitantly. “When do you… go?”

“I don’t know the exact moment,” Harry admits. “Whenever the sun enters Sagittarius. Whatever that exact time is.”

“Is there gonna be a Sagittarius Season ghost?” Misty asks. “Ghost of Sagittarians past?”

Harry laughs. “I don’t think so, no. But if there is, don’t go fallin’ in love with him now. Sagittarians are nothin’ but trouble.”

“Don’t think I ever could,” Misty says, a bittersweet ache in her voice. “Think I’ll only ever have feelings for you.”

Harry sighs, patting gently at Misty’s knee. He savors her scent and her warmth for a few beats before he changes the subject. “Your sisters will be glad to have you around again,” he says. “I know I’ve been hoggin’ ya. They must think you’re really goin’ through something, the way you’re keeping to yourself.”

“They wouldn’t understand even if I did try to explain it to them,” Misty replies.

Harry nods sympathetically. “And you’re gonna have a hard time explaining to them what happened to your mysterious long distance boyfriend from back home.”

“Oh shit,” Misty says, worry suddenly showing on her face. “What am I gonna tell them when they ask?”

“Tell them he died.” The look on Harry’s face is so smug, and Misty can tell that he’d been holding onto that one for a while. She rolls her eyes, but doesn’t even try to refrain from smiling.

“Oh my god, Harry.”

“It’s not wrong!”

“That’s not funny!” The smile on Misty’s face tells Harry otherwise, and he nudges her shoulder with his own.

“Alright alright.” Harry smiles, reaching forward to interlace their fingers. There’s a moment of drab silence, and Harry sighs thickly before finally admitting weakness. “God, I’m going to miss you.”

Misty’s smile softens, but it doesn’t completely fade. She turns her head, pressing the softest kiss to Harry’s shoulder. “I’m going to miss you more than you know.”

There’s a comfortable silence that falls between the two of them, and Harry interlaces his fingers with hers. “Maybe you’ll meet a boy to take you to next year's homecoming,” he muses.

Misty frowns. “That’s not funny either.”

“Not trying to be funny! Trying to encourage you to live your life, darling. I wish I could still live mine.”

“You can live in my dreams. Rent free.”

With a snort, Harry stands up. “Oh I intend to. As much as possible.”

“Well good.”

Harry walks over to Misty’s window again, watching the trees blow in the wind for a few quiet moments. After a bit, he speaks again. “I have an idea.”

“Hm?”

“Let’s have fun tonight. Let’s watch a movie. I’ll manifest in front of everyone and we can end on a high note. Instead of being sad.”

Misty considers his words for a moment. “But I want you to myself.”

Harry grins. “So they won’t question it when we excuse ourselves early, will they?”

Misty rolls her eyes. “Well, when you put it that way--”

Harry laughs. “No one even has to join in with us if they don’t want to. But I figure my last night here shouldn’t be spent so upset.”

“Yeah,” Misty agrees. “But I’m still gonna be sad.”

“Don’t you want to remember me having fun? That’s how I want you to remember me, at least.”

“Yeah but--”

“No buts!” Harry holds his hand out to her. “Come on then. You get to pick the movie.”

The evening progresses unbearably fast, and it isn’t long before Misty finds herself curled up into Harry’s side on the couch, watching him giggle alongside all her sorority sisters and their various partners. She hopes he doesn’t notice her staring at him, but she can’t help it of course. He is so lovely, so full of some type of light that she has never seen before and cannot seem to get enough of.

As Misty watches him, she realizes how heartbreakingly human he really is. He may be a ghost, but he died a young college boy— with so much ahead of him and so much to look forward to. Never in Misty’s life has she seen a more genuine smile, nor has she ever met anyone as charismatic as Harry. Try as she might to forget it, she knows her time with him is coming to an end and she hates it. But watching him interact with everyone around him, as charming as ever, she realizes that he genuinely needed this. He needed to feel alive, to feel apart of something once again.

So Misty leans closer into him. He smiles down at her, looking so full of life and warmth. He reaches down, pulling the fuzzy red blanket covering both him and Misty up over her shoulders. “You alright?” He asks softly.

Misty tilts her head, leaning up to press a peck to his nose. “I’m wonderful,” she replies quietly.

Harry grins down at her, and for a moment the two are lost in their own little world— looking into one another’s eyes as if the entire universe existed in them. As if reading her mind, Harry gives Misty’s lips a soft kiss. The kiss is tinged with sadness, of course, because the darker it gets outside the less time they know that they have together. So he pulls away, bumping her nose with his.

“You sleepy?” He asks quietly.

And Misty knows exactly what he means. “Mhm.”

“Mm,” Harry hums. “Me too.”

He moves to rise to his feet to make a graceful exit with Misty. “Well,” he says, addressing the room. “Misty and I are going to go up to sleep now. I have to head back home pretty early tomorrow and—“

“You’re going to fuck,” Kennedy says, matter-of-factly. Misty and Harry both gape at her, and she laughs. “It’s alright! No shame in that. We’re all adults here.”

Misty laughs nervously, and Harry remains calm and smug. “You’re hilarious, Kennedy. I think I’ll miss you most of all.”

Kennedy laughs, winking and pointing finger guns at Harry. Misty rolls her eyes, but she’s giggling as she turns to exit. Harry follows close behind her and Kennedy calls out, “Be safe! Use protection!”

Harry and Misty giggle the entire trip up the stairs, and as they approach Misty’s bedroom, she speaks quietly. “Okay, but how are you feeling? Like, energy wise.”

“Fine,” Harry says, and he honestly means it.

Misty glances at him like she doesn’t believe him, and he snorts. “I promise, Misty. I mean it. I didn’t use that much tonight.”

She rolls her eyes, making her way over to her bed and sitting on the edge of it. Harry closes the door behind him, still buzzing from the fun he’s had today, and a playful smile spreads across his face. He turns slowly on his heels, eyeing her mischievously.

She looks back, tensing up a bit as a smile spreads across her face. “What…”

Harry growls playfully, bounding over to her and tackling her onto the bed before she can even say anything. She squeals, giggling as she and Harry come tumbling down. Harry attacks her face and her neck in kisses while squeezing at her hips, and she squeals.

“No!” She shrieks. “What are you doing?! NO!”

He growls, nipping at her cheeks before lifting his head and grinning down at her. “Gimme kiss.”

“If I do, will you chill?” She giggles.

Harry makes a face, pretending to consider her words. “Mm… maybe.”

She lifts her head slightly, pecking at his lips, and he shakes his head. “Better than that,” he says.

She kisses him again, but he only repeats, “Better than that.”

Misty lets her head fall back again, mouth falling open as the most lovely laughs bubble out of her lips. Harry seizes this opportunity, leaning down and kissing her open mouth with a dimpled grin.

Misty’s giggles die down the minute their lips interlock, but the smile never leaves neither her nor Harry’s faces as they kiss. Misty licks gently into Harry’s mouth, and he immediately grants her access, swirling his tongue against hers. He speaks between kisses. “You’re--” kiss, “so--” kiss, “beautiful.”

Misty rolls her eyes. “No you are,” she says, and Harry kisses her before she’s even finished her sentence.

He chuckles. “No you.”

“Nooo…” She pecks at his nose. “You.”

Harry snorts. “God we’re disgusting, huh?”

Misty hums, reaching up to brush a stray curl away from Harry’s face. “Yeah. Ew.”

He leans down, burying his face in her neck and sucking softly. He feels her melt against him, squirming a bit as she lets out a long, humming sigh. He smiles, lifting his head to press another kiss to her lips before speaking. “I have an idea,” he says.

“Another one? Do tell.”

“How about……” Harry sing-songs, “One more orgasm for you. As a parting treat.”

“Hmm…” Misty muses. “Only one?”

Harry snorts. “Or two. Or… however many you want.”

“How many do you want to give me?” Misty scratches lovingly behind Harry’s ear.

“Oh sunshine,’ Harry says, “If I had my way I would never stop.”

Blood rushes to Misty’s cheeks and ears, but she tries to hide it. Harry only laughs again, thumbing at her cheek. “Gonna miss that.”

“What?”

“How easy it is to get you hot.”

Misty rolls her eyes, but she laughs. “You’re an idiot.”

“Gonna miss that, too. Love when you insult me.”

“Oh my god.” Misty shakes her head. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

Harry hums. “With pleasure, sweet girl.”

They continue kissing for a bit as Harry undresses Misty gently. He loves on every inch of her body, reveling in every single reaction he gets out of her. He tries to remember every detail that he can, and everything about the evening they’re sharing. And when he makes her cum, four separate times, he savours her taste, her smell, and the noises she makes as best as he can-- without making himself even sadder than he is. He knows she feels the same, noticing the way she continuously glances at him with more love in his eyes than he’s seen in a long time.

After hours of messing around with her, loving on one another’s bodies and sharing giggles and playful kisses, they realize it’s time to go to bed. They undress one another, and Harry helps her remove her makeup-- which makes them both laugh the entire time.

When they find themselves in bed together, stroking lovingly at one another’s faces, they realize that they can’t run from the inevitable anymore. Their time together has been reduced to only hours, and there is nothing they can do about it at all.

“I’m going to miss you,” Misty says, tracing his features in the darkness. “Have I told you that already?”

Harry laughs softly. “Maybe once or twice,” he admits. “But I’m going to miss you more.”

Misty sighs, kissing his lips gently. “Promise to come visit my dreams as much as you possibly can?”

Harry leans into her touch, tilting his head to kiss the palm of her hand. “I promise.”

“I don’t want to fall asleep.” She looks on the verge of tears, and Harry wishes there was something he could do to stop her. At this point, however, he knows it’s inevitable. So he tries to make her smile.

“You need to,” he says. “Humans need sleep.”

“Maybe,” she says. “But I need you more.”

“That’s not true, baby. You know it’s not.” Harry strokes a spot just in front of her temple-- a spot he’s noticed over the past month that relaxes her more than anything else. As if on cue, she yawns.

“Listen to me. You are meant to live your life, sweet girl. You are meant to be happy, and grow old. Promise me you will.” She frowns at him, but he doesn’t allow it. “Promise me, baby.”

“I promise,” she whispers. Harry smiles.

“Say it like you mean it.”

“I promise Harry,” she whispers, blinking against the sleep in her eyes. “But I also promise that when you return, I will be waiting.”

“That’s fine. You can wait. But do not let it stop you from living. You hear me? Please don’t. I would give anything to live my life again.”

Misty yawns again, finally giving in to the heaviness of her eyelids and closing her eyes. She leans into him. “I promise. I’ll live every day in your honor, Harry.”

“Yeah?”

She smiles sleepily, still not opening her eyes.

Harry watches her, taking in every last detail of her sleepy face. He can feel himself fading, but she doesn’t seem to notice, so he says nothing. He ignores the pressure building behind his eyes, swearing to himself that he’s not going to cry.

Misty is also fading fast, succumbing more and more to sleep by the second. Harry knows it’s going to be a hard year without her, but he takes comfort knowing she is surrounded by people who love her.

And it also doesn’t hurt that he plans on haunting Josh’s dreams so that he leaves Misty the fuck alone.

He smiles softly, completely unable to stop the tear from leaking from his eye. He’s grateful that Misty’s eyes are closed, and he presses the slowest, most gentle kiss to her forehead.

“I love you, miss Misty.”

Without opening her eyes, Misty speaks with a distant, sleepy voice. “I love you too, Harry.”

Harry replays that moment in his head for the next few hours, reveling in the way those words sounded coming out of her mouth.

And when Misty wakes in the morning, Harry is gone.

#Harry Styles #Harry #Harry Styles fanfiction #Harry fanfiction #fanfiction #Harry Styles AU #Harry AU #Harry Styles smut #Harry smut #smut #Harry Styles fluff #Harry fluff #fluff

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idreamofplaid · 3 years

Text

The Only Thing That’s Real

Square Filled: Fix It Fic

Characters: Sam x witch!Reader; Dean; Lucifer

Word Count: 8802

Summary: The reader falls in love with Sam during his darkest time, and she’s willing to do anything to help him.

Warnings: Non Con (discussed not depicted); heavy angst

A/N: This is for @girl-next-door-writes Make Me Feel Bingo. It’s early Season 7 Sam during the time he’s hallucinating Lucifer. It is the longest one shot I’ve ever written, but it didn’t feel right to break it into smaller pieces.

Thanks to @petitgateau911 for being my beta and @thinkinghardhardlythinking for the conversations about Sam and what would be true to his character. Hugs to you both.

The motel wasn’t much; the places Dean stayed never were. His car was another story. It was impressive, and when you saw it parked outside this latest no star establishment, you knew you were in the right place.

You parked in the space next to the Impala, made your way to room 16, and knocked lightly on the green door with the peeling paint. Dean was expecting you. He answered quickly and stepped outside closing the door behind him.

He hugged you and held on a beat longer than he usually would. When he let go, you scanned his face looking for some clue about the situation but couldn’t get a solid read on him. He knew what you were doing, acknowledged your look with a nod, and said, “Thanks for coming.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t? Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” You shifted the bag on your shoulder. “I’ve never seen you like this.” That worried you because you had seen and heard a lot when it came to Dean. Usually, he called on you in need of your witch skills. You’d always had just the right spell for him, but your instinct told you this situation was something else.

Dean’s eyes clouded over for a second. “Sam’s not doin’ so good. He... needs somebody to watch him.” Dean dragged his fingers down his cheek. “He doesn’t know what’s real, Y/N.”

You tried to mask your reaction from Dean. Whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t this; this was bad. “I see.” You eyed the door behind Dean, imagining what you’d find behind it.

Dean blew out a breath. “I shouldn’t have asked you to come here. This is too much to ask you to deal with.”

You put your hand on Dean’s arm to settle him. “You called me because just maybe I can help. At the very least, I can make sure he’s not alone and give you a chance to take care of what you need to.” With a little pat, you let your hand drop from Dean’s arm. “Why don’t you give me the short version of what’s happening and then introduce me to this little brother you’ve been hiding?”

The story Dean told was horrifying. Sam had been locked in a cage with the devil in hell. “He has nightmares, Y/N. All the time. He’s been having them ever since his memories of hell came back to him. The things he says in his sleep make my blood run cold.” Dean made a fist, rested his chin on it, and closed his eyes.

You moved closer and put your arm around him. “I know this is hard for you, Dean.” He dropped his fist and started shaking his head.

“He’s my little brother. I’m supposed to take care of him, and I can’t help him.” Dean took a couple of steps away from you so your arm was no longer around him. You knew Dean well enough to know he felt like he didn’t deserve the comfort because in his mind he’d failed his brother.

“Dean, you are doing everything you can; you always have.” He bent his head back, looked at the sky, let out a deep breath, and then let it fall forward again until his chin was almost touching his chest.

“Y/N, I’m starting to believe things happened to him that the demons torturing me when I was in hell only threatened to do. Just remembering the threat of it kept me awake at night for years after I got out. Now, he’s seeing things. Seeing Lucifer. And Lucifer taunts him, reminds of him of what he did and tells him he’s going to do it again.”

Dean started to pace. “Sam gets this terrified look in his eyes sometimes, and I know he’s seeing Lucifer, hearing him. Sam begs him not to do it again, and he talks about how cold it is inside. He’s afraid of the cold.” Dean chewed at his lip, and looked for a minute like he might start crying.

“They tear you apart in hell, piece by piece, then put you back together to do it again. It hurts more than there are even words to describe. They mess with your mind. That’s worse than the physical pain. They make you believe all kinds of shit that isn’t real. But I think Lucifer did something to Sam even worse than all that.”

You closed the distance between the two of you and put your hand on Dean’s arm again. “What do you think happened to Sam?”

Dean shook his head harder than he had before. “No. I can’t. I can’t say it out loud. I don’t want to.”

“Okay, Dean. You don’t have to say it.” You tried to calm him with your voice, but it was having little effect. This was bad for both of them. You felt your stomach drop, knowing how they both had suffered. No one should hurt like that. “How about you introduce me to Sam now? Let me see him.”

Dean gave you a silent nod then turned and opened the door. You followed him into the mostly darkened room. What you saw in that room caused your heart to leap up into your throat; the sight in front of you created an emptiness in the center of your being and fanned to life a dormant flame inside you. Dean’s brother was sitting on the edge of the bed, head and shoulders slumped over. He was powerfully built, taller and with wider shoulders than even Dean’s. His hair was falling over those shoulders and his face. You held your breath for a second or two. You could sense his soul, felt connected to him and the pain he was bravely trying to manage. This man was beautiful, and he was broken.

Dean closed the door behind you and said, “Sammy, there’s somebody I want you to meet.” Sam slowly raised his head. His eyes were haunted, the horrors he held in his mind reflected there. When he saw you, he tried to sit up a little straighter. “Sam, this is Y/N. She’s an old friend of mine.”

Sam attempted a smile. “Hi. Did Dean ask you to come babysit me?” There was nothing bitter or angry in his question.

You weren’t sure how to best answer him, deciding to go with at least part of the truth. “That’s not exactly how he put it. He said you weren’t feeling so good, and you know how Dean worries; he didn’t want to leave you alone. All these years I’ve known him, you’ve been the mysterious brother I’ve never met. I wanted to change that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first night passed without incident. You’d taken a chance and brought along a chessboard, thinking maybe Sam and his Ivy League mind might like the game. It was a good move; it gave you both something to focus on other than the awkward situation you were in together.

Sam was nothing like Dean, but he had his own kind of charm. He could carry on a conversation in a way that made you feel like you were the most interesting person in the world, and he could talk about any number of things. The two of you discussed everything from favorite childhood books to Spanish architecture, and the conversation was easy.

It was almost impossible, while at the same time nearly natural, to imagine Sam as a hunter. Dean got a certain thrill and satisfaction from hunting. You didn’t sense any of that in Sam, but he certainly had the mind to put the pieces of a puzzle together and solve a case. The way he was built he could take on any monster, and you couldn’t help but notice his eyes were beautiful. They were a mosaic of green, gold, and amber. You could have easily indulged in staring at them endlessly; you appreciated and were drawn to the depth you saw in those eyes.

You passed a comfortable evening together, and when it was time for bed; Sam took the first turn in the bathroom. That left you alone for a few minutes to gather your thoughts. So far things were going well, but you knew that could change in an instant. You centered and grounded yourself, then cast a quick protection spell over the room. It wouldn’t be long before you would find out that nothing could protect Sam from his own mind.

Sam slept peacefully in one of the double beds and you in the other until the first faint light of the sunrise began to filter through the golden orange curtains casting a tinted light over the room. That’s when Sam started to yell and plead. “No. No. Not again. Please.”

The pitiful sounds he was making tore you from your sleep, and you went to him. “Sam. Sam.” When calling his name didn’t work, you lightly touched his shoulder. He bolted awake and grabbed your wrist, wrapping his huge hand around it. You knew he could break your wrist, but you didn’t feel the slightest twinge of fear. It was something else entirely you were feeling. You wanted to protect him from whatever it was that was tormenting him and take away his tremendous pain.

You tried speaking to him softly. “Sam, it’s okay. Nothing can hurt you here. It’s alright.”

He looked at you with wide and confused eyes. “Y/N?” Sam looked down at his hand that was still grasping your wrist. He let go. “I’m...I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” He sounded ashamed of what he’d done.

“No, Sam. You didn’t hurt me. I’m fine.” You wiggled your fingers and swiveled your wrist. “See? Everything still works.” He watched your motions, and they appeared to reassure him a little. Sam pushed himself up into a sitting position with his back against the headboard.

He ran his fingers through his hair and scanned the room. He still seemed a little disoriented. “What...what did I do?” He looked to you for the answer.

You wanted to put your hand on him again, soothe him with your touch, but now that he was awake; you didn’t do that. You tried to comfort him with the tone of your voice instead. “You were talking in your sleep. It sounded like...like someone was hurting you. Do you want to talk about it, Sam?”

He gave a slight shake of his head. “No. It’s...I’m okay.”

Two days later, Dean still wasn’t back. He texted everyday to check in, and you replied back with a confidence you didn’t feel that you had everything under control. Sam had slept fitfully both nights, but nothing else had happened as bad as that first morning until Sam completely cracked in front of you.

You were playing a game of chess, and as near as you could tell, Sam was about three moves away from claiming your king when he jumped out of his chair to stand in front of you. His arms were outstretched in a protective gesture, blocking something that wasn’t there from getting to you, and he was talking to the empty space. “Stay away from her. Don’t you dare try to touch her.”

You stood up behind him. “Sam?”

He reached back and circled one of his arms around your waist and pulled you close against his back. “I won’t let him near you, Y/N. I promise. I WILL NOT let him hurt you.”

“Who, Sam? Who do you think is going to hurt me?” You reached for his shoulder, as you had during that first nightmare, and lay your hand on it trying to bring him back to reality again.

Sam’s voice took on a hard steel edge. “It’s Lucifer. He thinks he can do to you what he did to me, but I will NEVER let that happen.” Then Sam started to talk to the empty air, his voice full of conviction. “You can do anything you want to me. You already have. Drag me back to hell and do it all again, but you won’t get to her. I. Won’t. Let. You.”

You started to rub the back of Sam’s shoulder. “Sam, there’s no one there.”

“Y/N, get back!” He started walking backwards, pushing you along behind him until you hit the wall. Then Sam turned and wrapped his arms around you, shielding you with his body.

He was pressed firmly against you, and it took some effort to push him back far enough to get your hands on each side of his face. “Sam, look at me.” You positioned his face so he was looking directly into your eyes. “Look in my eyes.” You saw the instant his hazel eyes focused on you. “That’s it, Sam. We’re fine. No one’s here. Just us.”

Sam took a couple of steps back; he looked around the room, and then he slowly backed all the way to the bed and sat down. His eyes met yours, and he swallowed hard before he said anything. “I’m sorry.” His words were soft and tortured; you couldn’t keep your distance from him. You joined him on the bed, sitting so close that your leg almost touched his.

You put your hand on his cheek again, much more softly this time, knowing full well that he knew where he was and realized what you were doing. “Sam, you don’t need to apologize to me. You haven’t done anything wrong. Tell me what you see. Tell me what’s going on in your mind.”

Sam’s eyes searched yours, like he was trying to determine how much he could tell you. He reached his decision, and he let you in. “He taunts me. Reminds me of everything he did to me when I was in hell.” Sam took a long pause and shifted his eyes away from yours. You lowered your hand and put it over his. He rotated his hand so he could close his fingers over yours. Now, he had something to hold onto.

“He says he’s going to do it all again. Says he loves the way I try to hold out, makes it more satisfying when I scream.” Sam shuddered. You rubbed your fingers gently over the back of his hand, hoping it gave him some comfort. Sam closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he said in a strained voice, “He tells me I’m still in hell; I’m with him. He lets me believe you’re real to make it worse when he takes you away.” Tears were shining in his eyes, threatening to fall.

You tightened your fingers around his. “I’m real, Sam. I’m here with you. No one else. Just me.” Slowly, you let go of his hand so you could comb your fingers through his hair, brushing it back from his face. “I’m the only thing that’s real, Sam. He closed his eyes again, tighter this time than the first and nodded. You put your arms around him and hugged him close. “Do you feel that, Sam? It’s real. You’re safe.”

Sam turned toward you and wrapped his arms around you. He was struggling to steady his breath. “Tell me again that you’re here.”

You slipped your fingers into his hair and held the back of his head. “I am, Sam. I’m here.”

That night you slept in the same bed; Sam held you, and he slept without nightmares or hallucinations. You listened to him breathe, felt the warmth of his body next to your back, and the feelings you had for him grew deeper and took root in your soul. You whispered into the darkened room, “You’re not alone, Sam. You never will be.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your life went back to normal when you went back home, but it was forever changed. You couldn’t get the image of a tall, handsome, and troubled hunter out of your mind. At night, you lay awake in bed and stared at the ceiling, wondering if Sam could sleep. It was one of those sleepless nights that you finally threw back the covers and got out of bed intent upon doing something to answer the questions that kept spinning through your head.

You took your scrying bowl from the cabinet where you stored it and filled it with water. Your altar was still set up from your last ritual; the candles were still there as well as a place for the bowl. You placed the bowl on the altar and lit the candles surrounding it. The water caught the light from the candles and reflected it up to you. You concentrated on the light and let your vision go hazy.

A vision of Sam appeared on the water. His palms were pressed against both sides of his head. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut, the way you had seen them in person, and Dean was standing next to him. He was saying something to Sam that you couldn’t make out, but Sam dropped his hands and opened his eyes. They were wide open now and filled with fear. He backed away from his brother, clearly scared and trying to get away from something that was terrifying him.

The image of Sam disappeared, and you sat on the floor in front of your altar stunned. You wrapped your arms around your body and hugged yourself. What had you thought you would see? You’d seen the condition he was in for yourself, and it hadn’t just mercifully disappeared. For the rest of the night, you didn’t move from that spot. You sat there in the dark and watched the candles burn down.

By the time morning came, you were exhausted. Fortunately, you had been your own boss since you left the graphic design company you worked for two years ago and gone freelance, but you still had clients and work to do. With that in mind, you were making a strong pot of coffee in the hope it would keep you awake enough to deliver the designs you’d promised.

Your plan was good, but it wasn’t working. You were distracted and preoccupied. For the third time since the sun came up, you picked up your cell phone with the intention of calling, or at least texting, Dean. What were you going to say? I can’t get your brother out of my mind since I managed to fall in love with him after spending three days with him. Or maybe, I saw him in a bowl of water last night, and I’m worried about him. No, you couldn’t do that. It didn’t matter how much you felt otherwise; your life was not actually connected to Sam’s. Dammit. You put your phone down on the counter with a thud, and snatched open a cabinet to get a mug.

You had work to do, bills had to be paid. With that in mind, you grabbed the coffee pot and started to fill your mug. The memory of Sam’s hazel eyes flooded your mind; you didn’t stop pouring when you should have, and your cup overflowed, creating a huge mess. You mopped up the spilled coffee and threw the dish towel into the sink with a frustrated sigh.

As it turned out, you didn’t have to pretend to be productive for very long because by mid morning Dean was calling you. As soon as you saw his name on your caller ID, your heart started to pound. You snatched up the phone. “Dean?” Maybe he heard the panic in your voice, maybe he didn’t because he had worries of his own.

“Y/N, I’m really sorry to bother you again.” You wanted to interrupt him, wanted to blurt out all your questions about Sam, but you didn’t, even though Dean was taking way too long to get to the point in your opinion. “Do you think you could spare some time away again? I wouldn’t ask, but Sam...he’s getting worse. I’m afraid he might hurt himself, Y/N, because he can’t take it anymore. He’s getting more lost in his head, and...he’s asking for you.”

“Asking for me?” You sat down, and your already fast beating heart started to beat a little faster.

You heard Dean sigh over the phone. “Yeah. Whenever he’s out of it, sometimes he thinks you’re here. Then when he realizes you aren’t, he gets upset.” Another sigh. “I don’t know what else to do, Y/N.”

Dean might not know, but you did. “I’ll come. Where are you?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bobby was another person Dean had mentioned over the years. He’d never said much about his house though, and it was a sight to behold. Once you got past the yard and more junk cars than you had ever seen, the inside was also remarkable. Here, you found more books than you had ever seen outside a library. Practically every surface was covered with them.

Dean gave you a bit of a tour of the place while he updated you on Sam. “I don’t think he’s sleeping anymore. We’ve been in some tight spots, but this has me knocked on my ass.” For Dean to be admitting anything of the kind was a rare occurrence, and it scared you. The final stop on the tour was an upstairs bedroom at the end of the hall where Sam was staying. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, much as he had been the first time you ever saw him. Only now, there were dark circles under his pain filled eyes, and it was clear what Dean had said was true. Sam had barely slept in a long time, if at all.

He was hugging himself just like you had on the floor in front of your altar, and he smiled when he saw you. You crossed the room, sat beside him, and gave him a lingering hug. When you parted, Sam’s smile got bigger. “Y/N, you’re here.”

You returned his smile. “Yeah, I’m here. It’s gonna be okay now.”

Dean was still standing in the doorway, but you had forgotten him until he spoke. “I’m just gonna go.” You turned to acknowledge what he’d said, and he was staring intently at you and his brother. His gaze travelled from you to Sam and back. He tilted his head in your direction then left, closing the door behind him.

All of your attention went back to Sam. “When was the last time you slept?”

He was slow in answering you, but once more he let you in. “It’s been a day or two; I don’t know exactly. Time is kinda running together.” You noticed the bed you were sitting on was neatly made. Had he even tried to sleep recently, or had he just given up?

You rubbed your hand up and down his arm to soothe him, and you felt some of the tension leave his body at your touch. You did this for a few minutes then told him, “Sam, I’m going to go make you some tea. I think it will help you sleep.” You’d come prepared, bringing some herbs with you that might help him.

Sam reached for your hand as you started to stand. “Don’t go yet. Stay here with me.”

You lowered yourself back to the bed. “Okay, but I want you to try to rest.” You fluffled the pillows and said to him, “Lie back.” Sam hesitated. You kneeled in front of him and took both his hands in yours. “Do you see him now, Sam?”

His eyes darted to the corner of the room. “Yeah. He doesn’t go away. That’s why I can’t sleep. He won’t let me.” There was a lump in your throat, but you weren’t going to cry. That wasn’t what Sam needed right now.

“Well, I’m not going away either. I’m going to lie down with you, and I’m going to stay next to you. Alright?”

Sam was looking at your hands joined together. “Okay. I just want you with me.”

You settled back on the pillows with Sam and guided his head down to your shoulder. You slipped your fingers through his hair over and over, resisting the urge to kiss his head. “Try to close your eyes. I won’t let anything happen to you, Sam.”

After several minutes of lying there in the quiet stroking Sam’s hair, you shifted to take your phone out of your pocket. Sam sat up quickly, jolted out of the peace you’d given him. “Don’t go, Y/N.” There was no fear in his eyes now. It had been replaced by an empty resignation, and that was worse.

You cupped his cheek in your hand. “I told you I wouldn’t go, Sam. I’m not.” You held up your phone so he could see it. “I’m just going to text Dean and ask him to bring me what I need to make the tea.” You could see Sam thinking, then he put his head back on your shoulder and draped his arm over your waist to hold you close.

Moving as little as possible, you typed out your text to Dean. Bring me the herbs I put in the kitchen, a pot of hot water, and a teacup.

In a few minutes, there was a knock at the door. This time, you told Sam before you moved. “I’m going to go answer the door. I’ll be right back.”

Dean was standing on the other side, holding a tray filled with everything you’d asked him to bring. You put your hands on the tray to take it from him, and Dean whispered, “How is he?”

“He’s quiet, but it isn’t good.” You had been rolling an idea around in your head, debating if you should do it. Acknowledging Sam was in bad shape out loud helped you make up your mind. “Dean, I want you to see if Bobby has a book on Medieval Italian witchcraft, ideally a grimoire. If he does, bring it to me.”

He glanced past you to get a look at Sam. “Are you going to do a spell?”

Saying it was a spell was a bit of an understatement. “I’m going to help him, Dean. Find that book.”

You returned to Sam and put the tray down on the bedside table. You opened the large plastic bag filled with smaller bags of herbs and selected the ones you wanted. You sprinkled some of each herb in the cup then poured hot water over them. Sam was watching you. The look on his face told you he was more interested in making sure you didn’t disappear than in what you were doing.

The tea steeped for a couple of minutes, then you gave it to Sam. He wrapped both his hands around the cup and asked, “What is it?”

You sat down next to him on the bed. “It’s something to quiet your mind so you can sleep.”

Sam took a sip from the cup that looked so tiny in his hands. “I’m lucky I know a witch like you.” Then he took another bigger drink.

He knew what you were. Had Dean talked about you over the years the same way he’d talked about Sam, or had Sam figured it out on his own? Had Dean told him that you were a hereditary witch with a lineage that dated back five generations? That made you powerful, and you had never been more thankful for that than right now. “Did Dean tell you?”

Sam drank some more. His voice was sounding a little stronger. “I knew he consulted a witch on some of our cases, and it looks like you know your herbs. It’s you that he went to.”

“Does that change your opinion of me? Dean isn’t very fond of witches in general.” You were nervous waiting for his answer in spite of your strong intuition backed by five generations that told you not to be.

“I’m not my brother.” His eyes met yours and something passed silently between you.

You took the now empty cup from him. “I noticed,” you answered softly.

He reached for your arm, and you felt a warmth spread through your body when he touched you. “You have a talent, Y/N. You’ve helped people; you’re helping me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was getting late into the night when you heard a soft knock at the door. You checked Sam before you got up. He was still sleeping. Dean had found exactly what you were hoping he’d find. It was a grimoire, and it looked old. He held it out to you. “You read Italian?”

You took the book from him. “As a matter of fact I do.” Your grandmother had taught you the family tradition of Italian witchcraft and learning the language was part of your training.

“Bobby says that’s not modern Italian,” Dean said, explaining his doubt that you could translate it.

“I can still read it.” Your grandmother had been thorough in her lessons.

Dean noticed his brother sleeping, and a smile turned up the corners of his mouth. He looked back to you and down at the book. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

You ignored him and proceeded with your next request. “Will you stay with him while I take a shower and get ready for bed?”

“You’re staying in here tonight?” Dean was trying to figure out exactly what kind of relationship you had with his brother.

“Yes, I told him I wouldn’t leave him.” You looked over your shoulder at Sam and clutched the book you were holding a little tighter. It had to have the answer you needed in it.

You turned back to Dean, and his eyes locked on yours. “Thank you, Y/N.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stayed up half the night reading the grimoire, searching for a spell that you were beginning to fear was only a legend, a story your grandmother told you when you were a girl just like she’d told you the story of Cinderella. Maybe it was just another romantic story. She had told you about a spell that had the power to cure anything. It had been created by a witch during the time of the great plague to save the man she loved. Your grandmother had made you the woman you were, the one who would do anything to save Sam. You could still hear her voice echoing in your head. “There is no greater power than love. It can protect. It can transform. It can heal.”

You were almost to the end of the grimoire and losing hope when you reached a page titled “Restoration”. Excitement began to bubble up inside you when you read the description. This was it. The list of ingredients was surprisingly simple; you’d brought everything you would need with you in your collection of herbs. All you needed to do was add a little sugar from Bobby’s kitchen. You read the directions for casting the spell, took a deep breath, and read them again to make sure you’d understood correctly. Your grandmother never told you that part.

All that is required to the diminish the ailment of your lover is your love. During the act of sexual union, focus your intention. Whatever afflicts him will be diminished by half of its force being transferred to you. If the gods have smiled upon you, he will return your love. And, should he love you in return, the affliction will be not only diminished but abolished altogether.

The weight of the words settled over you. You looked at Sam; he was still sleeping beside you undisturbed. If you took half of his mental anguish, he could at least function. He would no longer be living on the brink of a total breakdown, that should it come, might take him from you forever. You traced the line of his jaw with your fingertip; he didn’t stir. Did you love him enough to see the devil? Yes.

You made your way down to the kitchen, careful not to turn on any lights and alert anyone to your movements. Everything you needed was there as you had expected it to be. You crushed up the needed herbs, added the sugar, put it all in some water, and drank the potion. You would gladly sacrifice yourself for Sam, and you would be ready at the right time. You made a silent plea to the goddess that the right time would come soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You managed to get a couple hours of sleep before you woke and discovered Sam was no longer in bed next to you. You ran for the door and almost collided into Sam coming back into the room. He was dressed in a blue and white plaid shirt, and the emptiness was gone from his eyes. His smile was so big it deepened his dimples and made him so handsome you almost couldn’t breathe. “Hey, Y/N. You want to get some breakfast?”

“Sam, are you…?” The light in his eyes was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

He moved closer to you, so close he was only inches away. “I’m okay. For the first time, in a very long time, I feel okay.” His eyes lingered on yours, then he cupped your cheek in his hand and for several seconds you were lost in the depths of his eyes, a place you would gladly stay forever. Then Sam touched his lips to yours, and it was the softest kiss anyone had ever given you in your life.

He pulled away, but not too far. He was still holding your face in his hands and looking into your eyes. “Kiss me again, Sam.” You parted your lips when his mouth touched yours, and he accepted the invitation. Sam’s tongue circled around yours, exploring your mouth and discovering the way you taste. You put your arms around him, wanting to hold onto him and the moment. When he felt your arms go around him, Sam deepened the kiss.

You were nearly breathless when the kiss ended. Sam took your hand in his. “Come downstairs with me? We can have our first breakfast together.” It wasn’t lost on you that he’d said “first”.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In all the time you’d known him, you never knew Dean had such a way with eggs. You caught him looking at Sam and you throughout breakfast. When you got up to take your plate to the sink, Dean saw his opportunity and followed you. “What did you do? He hasn’t been out of that room in days.”

“I gave him some tea to clear his mind, and I stayed with him.” You stacked the dishes in the sink to give your hands something to do, very conscious of Dean closely scrutinizing you. He was trying to figure out what it was that you weren’t telling him. Now wasn’t the time to say it was your feelings for Sam that were helping him more than anything. It was then that the idyllic reprieve ended.

Sam sank to the floor and curled in on himself. “Please, I can’t again. It already hurts so much. So cold. Hurts.”

You felt a pain shoot through your heart, and you lowered yourself to the floor beside Sam. You ran your fingers through his hair to soothe him, but he didn’t acknowledge you were there. It wasn’t helping this time.

You stood up and turned to Dean. “Help me get him back upstairs.”

Dean nearly had to carry Sam up the stairs, he was so unsteady on his feet. Once back in the room you were sharing with Sam, Dean settled his brother on the bed. You needed to get that spell cast as soon as possible if you could make Sam coherent and strong enough to consent to having sex with you. He’d never consent to you taking his pain, so you were going to keep that part to yourself.

Sam was shaking when you crawled onto the bed next to him. His eyes were closed, and you could have cried with relief when he said your name. “Y/N?”

“Yes, Sam, it’s me.” You longed to touch him, to make it better.

He opened his eyes, and you saw the recognition in them along with the brokenness. “I’m scared, Y/N.”

You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him close; he lay his head on the center of your chest, and you held him. “You’re okay, Sam. I promise it’s going to be okay.” Love was indeed the most powerful magic. It had made him better every time he had been near you so far, and you waited for it to work again.

Eventually the shaking stopped; he was calm in your arms. Images of the way he’d looked cowering on the kitchen floor invaded your mind. I love you, Sam. You couldn’t say the words, but they were right there in your mind along with those pictures of him that tore your heart to pieces.

You let him know what peace he could while you battled with an inner struggle. The last thing you wanted to do was shatter that peace, but you had an awful suspicion. You needed to know, considering what you were about to do.

“Sam?” You whispered his name quietly, and he stirred in your arms. “Tell me about the cold.”

He didn’t say anything. It was quiet, so quiet the silence hung heavy over you like a weight you could feel pressing down on your shoulders. Then Sam spoke in an unsteady whisper. “I’ve never told anyone.”

You moved your hand to the back of his head to hold it. “You know you’re safe with me, Sam, don’t you? You know you can tell me anything.”

A few more seconds passed and Sam started to breathe out through his mouth in ragged little gasps. “It’s...it’s...Lu...Lucifer. The way he feels when...when….”

“It’s okay, Sam. Take your time. Breathe. I’m right here.” You tried to prepare yourself for what he was about to say, but that was impossible.

“When he...f...forces himself inside me.” The pain that sliced through you was more acute than if the blade of a sword had cut into you. You squeezed your eyes closed and listened to him go on.

“He did it so many times.” You couldn’t see Sam’s face, and for once you were glad you couldn’t, unsure if you could hold yourself together if you saw the expression there. “It tore at me, and I bled. But that’s not what hurt so much.” You tried to steel yourself; you had to be strong, had to fight the wave of nausea you were feeling. “It was the cold inside me, so cold it burned.”

Several more seconds passed that grew into a minute. He was done. He wasn’t going to say anything else. You knew. All you could do was continue to hold onto him; you couldn’t make that go away. “I’m sorry, Sam. I’m so sorry that happened to you.” You kissed the top of his head and let your tears fall quietly into his hair.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, how long the two of you had been like that. Sam hadn’t looked at you once, his head bowed with a shame that wasn’t his to bear. He had put his arms around you at one point and held onto you tightly as if you were his touchstone with the present and reality. His grasp had loosened but his arms were still there when he said, “Why are you still here, Y/N?”

You rested your cheek on top of his head. “Because I want to help you.”

“Why? Why would you want to help me? I’m dirty.” Sam finally raised his head to look at you. His soul was in his eyes, and it was heartbreakingly sad. How had such a beautiful soul survived what he’d been through?

“Sam, no. You aren’t.” You cupped his cheek, holding his face in your hand.

Sam’s voice took on an edge of anguished anger. “He said no one would ever want me, would ever want anything to do with me.” Sam hung his head again, the anguish winning.

Gently, you tilted his head up until his eyes met yours. “I do. I want to be with you, Sam.” You touched your lips to his, so softly it was barely a kiss. It was such a different kind of kiss from the one he had given you that morning.

When you pulled away, Sam was looking at you in disbelief, wonder, and with a hope that what you said was true. He swallowed hard. “I haven’t been with anyone since I got my soul back and...remembered. I want to...with you.”

You closed your eyes and opened them, nodding. “You can. However you need.”

You hadn’t expected it to happen like this, this soon, but the necessary ingredients for the spell were in your system. All you had to do to activate them was say you loved him in your head during the act. You didn’t even need to say it out loud. This spell relied solely on you, your feelings and your intention. You’d already been repeating it in your mind like a mantra, and you weren’t going to stop. You loved him so much, you’d given him a part of yourself already. You would give him anything.

“You really want to be with me after what I told you?” You kissed him again as if to prove it, and this time he kissed you back.

Sam slowly lifted your shirt over your head. He hadn’t exposed much of you yet, but he spent so long looking at you, his eyes roaming over your body, that you wondered if he had changed his mind. At last, he lowered his head and started kissing your neck. His kisses were gentle and open mouthed. He began to make a trail of them, moving lower to your breasts. Then he stopped.

You could feel his breath on your skin when he spoke. “This is okay?”

Your heart clenched and then filled with even more love for him. “Yes, Sam. Whatever you need. I want you.”

He touched you, running his fingers along the top edge of your bra and feeling the swell of your breasts. His hand rubbed over your shoulder and down the length of your arm. When he looked at you, there was no fear in his eyes; but there was hesitation. He could take as long as he wanted to resolve whatever it was that was making him hesitate.

You tried to tell him with your eyes what you couldn’t yet say. I LOVE YOU. Finding enough reassurance in your eyes, Sam kissed you. His tongue making a slow circle around yours. The kiss didn’t last very long, but it was followed by another that was a little deeper.

Between kisses, his lips stayed near yours. “I like having you close.”

“I like it too,” you answered and hoped it encouraged him to keep going.

The next kiss was the deepest one yet, and you felt your body respond to what he was doing to you. An ache for him began to blossom in your core. You could feel yourself getting wet for him.

His lips moved so close to yours when he spoke. “Will you take it off for me? Your bra?” You nodded, your cheek brushing against his.

You sat up a little. Sam was watching your every movement. You reached back and unfastened your bra, pulling the straps slowly down your arms. You let it drop somewhere on the bed.

Sam looked at you again, his eyes taking in every inch of you. He whispered, “You’re perfect. So beautiful.” You smiled at him, wishing you could freeze this moment. The tone of his voice and his eyes told you that for a second he had forgotten everything else.

The moment passed. Sam took off his plaid and the t-shirt underneath, peeling it off his body. Now, it was your turn to look. His eyes met yours, and they were questioning you, waiting for a response or some indication of what you were thinking. If only you could say the words you longed to say, you wanted so badly to give him yourself completely, body and heart, if only he was ready to hear them. As it was, with all the doubts he had, you didn’t want him to overwhelm him with that declaration. The words you said instead were “Can I?”

He nodded to you. “Yes.”

You let your hand wander over the muscles in his shoulders, his chest, and his stomach. “You’re beautiful too, Sam.” He closed his eyes. You continued to explore his body with the lightest touch of your fingertips, observing his reaction closely for any sign of distress.

You kept most of your touches well above his waist, letting him feel what it was to be touched by someone who loved him. He sighed, and it was a gentle sound free of strain. You smiled again, even though he couldn’t see you.

“Sam, do you want me to take off the rest of my clothes?” He opened his eyes, and the question hung there.

You could hear him breathing deeper now, his arousal starting. “I do want that.”

You opened the button on your jeans, lowered the zipper, and eased them down your legs. For now, your panties were still on. They were simple, made of white cotton; they didn’t need to be anything else. There was no seduction in what the two of you were doing. It was pure, the purest thing you had ever known or felt.

“Do you want to touch me, Sam? Let me prove to you how much I want you.” His hand reached out for you, and you took it. You guided his hand to that place beneath your legs where you were wet for him so he could feel it.

Sam didn’t move his hand. He left it there for a few seconds before lifting it, looking at his fingers, and running his thumb over them to feel the wetness there. His lips parted as he looked to you for verification of what your body was telling him. “See. I want you.”

You slipped off your panties, lay down on the bed, and lifted your arms to him. Sam accepted your invitation, lowering himself over you, bracing his weight so it wasn’t fully on you. Now when he kissed you, his hand was moving down your side, over your hip, and back up again. “You feel so good, Y/N. Your skin is so soft, so warm.”

Feel all the warmth. Take it, my love. Your arms were around him, your hand in his hair. You were ready to do this for him, take on a portion of the horror that caused him to suffer so much. You would take it all if you could.

Sam broke the kiss. “Are you sure?”

You stared into his eyes the way you had imagined doing in that motel when you’d first met him. “I’m sure.”

Sam moved to take off his jeans. He was semi hard, not there yet. That was okay.

He positioned himself over you again, and you put your arms back around him. You were still being careful to keep your hands on his upper back. While Sam kissed you, you could feel him continuing to harden until he was fully erect. He stopped kissing you, and looked into your eyes, searching once more. You said just one word “Yes.”

He entered you a little at a time, inch by inch, until he was completely inside. Initially, Sam stayed still within you. You bit your bottom lip, adjusting to the way he stretched you and waiting for him to move. When he didn’t, you asked, “Sam, are you okay?”

There was a pause, and then he said, “Am I hurting you?”

You buried your face into the side of his neck and kissed him tenderly there. “No, Sam. You aren’t hurting me. I like the way you make me feel.

He started to move with a slow rolling movement of his hips. You didn’t hold back your sounds of pleasure; you let him hear them. Sam responded by beginning to thrust.

That’s when you heard it. “You think you can fix him?” You turned your head in the direction of the mocking voice. It was him. It was working. You saw HIM.

Lucifer looked like a man, but there was a malevolence that radiated out from him. You hated that he could see you now, see you with Sam, invade this most private moment, even if he wasn’t real. He continued to mock you.

“You think you can save him? From me? It’s too late, you foolish woman.” He walked closer. You closed your eyes to block out the sight of him, but you could still hear what he was saying. “He belongs to me. I. Marked. Him.”

You wouldn’t let him violate this moment. You would endure seeing and hearing Lucifer for the rest of your life, but he couldn’t lessen this; this was beautiful. You focused on the connection, on the intimacy Sam was sharing with you. “I want you, Sam. I want you.”

The voice sounded so close, and you squeezed your eyes more tightly closed. “I told you he’s mine. I claimed him. Over and over.” You fought to hold in the sob that threatened to erupt out of you. Sam could not know what was happening. As long as you kept your eyes closed, Sam could mistake the pained grimace on your face for passion. “You should have heard him cry. He begged, pleaded with me to stop.”

Sam’s thrusts got faster. “Yes, Sam. Yes.” You wanted to dig your fingers into his back, but you didn’t. You were receiving what he gave you, what he was ready to give.

Lucifer’s voice, that was now in your head, was cruel. “You know what was the most fun?” You waited, dreading what he would say next, but Lucifer didn’t finish. You opened your eyes. He was gone. That meant….

You could say it now, the words you had been struggling to hold back, because you knew he would want to hear it. “I love you, Sam.”

His hips started to stutter, and he filled you with his release. Your walls fluttered around him, taking you right to the edge, but you didn’t come. It didn’t matter.

Sam kept you close after he slipped from your body, rolling you onto your side to face him. You gazed into his eyes; you could look at them forever now. Sam’s heart was yours; he wanted you the way you wanted him. He verified what you were thinking by saying, “I love you too, Y/N.” You knew it, but there was nothing like hearing the words.

“Thank you...for showing me...for giving me what you just did.” He brushed your hair from your cheek. He lowered his eyes, then lifted them back to yours. “You didn’t...did you. It wasn’t good for you. It’ll be better for you next time. I promise.”

“Don’t ever think you don’t give me enough, Sam. Don’t ever think that.” You kissed him softly and sweetly.

“Will you let me do it now?” Sam asked you quietly. “Make you feel good.”

You traced your fingertip down his check and along his chin. “If that’s what you want. You don’t have to do anything, Sam.”

Sam covered your mouth with his, and you opened to his kiss and his touch. You spread your legs when you felt his fingers moving through your folds. He circled your clit, applying the perfect amount of pressure. He had already taken you so close, it wasn’t long before you were coming undone and falling into the bliss of your orgasm.

He nuzzled his cheek against yours and whispered into your ear, “I love you.” Sam slept peacefully in your arms that night, as you did in his.

The next morning Sam woke you with his kisses. You opened your eyes, and his radiant smile greeted you. He had never smiled like that before. His dimples had never shone so bright. “He’s gone, Y/N. I can feel it.”

You smiled back at the man you loved, the man who returned your love. “He is gone, Sam, and he won’t come back. He can’t hurt you anymore.” Whatever else you needed to do to help Sam deal with what he had been through, you would. The things you might have to face together would no longer include hallucinations of Lucifer.

Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @peridottea91 @logical-princey @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @shaniquacynthia @mariekoukie6661 @tumbler-tidbits @fandom-princess-forevermore @terrarium-jpeg @emoryhemsworth @crashdevlin @jules-1999 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @dawnie1988 @volleyballer519 @outcastedangel @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @sorenmarie87 @lovealways-j

Sam/Jared: @girl-next-door-writes @stunudo @feelmyroarrrr @idabbleincrazy @evansrogerskitten @focusonspn @autumninavonlea @durinsbride @deansyahtzee @waywardnerd67 @fullmooner @sams-sass @beskaradberoya

#make me feel bingo #sam angst #sam smut #witch!reader #sam x reader #sam oneshot

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