#I couldn’t sleep most of last night for coughing but I was cozy

[scobbe]

It’s November and I’ve put the flannel sheets on let the cozy time begin

[abcd-adventures]

Ugh. I have been struggling since Thursday of last week with a cough and my voice constantly going out. The cough is worse at night, and my sleep has been terrible. I’m very over it. BUT, I miraculously managed to get through my yoga one-on-one with my client without any issues on Monday and it went so great! She sent me a message afterward telling me that I was a “gift” and that she was so glad I’d come into her life. *heart eyes*

Texas is experiencing a week of winter weather right now. As much as I hate summers here, it has only taken one day of freezing rain and sub-freezing temperatures to remind me I never want to live anywhere that has a “real” winter. No. Winter is terrible. It is worse than summer. I will endeavor to remember this in August... We were told to work from home today and tomorrow because Texas infrastructure is not prepared for any type of cold, but mine is not a population that is savvy with setting up telehealth (or in most cases able to afford a computer at all), so I am working 9-12 and then will go in for a half day on Friday afternoon. It was nice having B’s nap time to lie down. I couldn’t sleep because of my stupid cough, but at least I was cozy in my bed and no one was wanting anything from me for a full hour and a half.    

[yakultstrawberrygreentea]

I used to have sleeping problems sleeping next to my partners and anyone around me no matter how close I was to them. I’m slowly unlearning this. My boyfriend has been sleeping over quite often lately. I used to be so nervous and over think everything. I can’t sleep at most people’s places because I’m worried that my snoring is too loud, or if I sleep next to someone that I may jolt and wake them up, or my hair is in their face, or I feel wary of the skin to skin contact, or that I may get too physically hot, or that I may accidentally kick them, etc etc etc. The list is long. But now, I’m not that worried. Granted, I still struggle with space because my boyfriend’s butt I’d like a magnet and he backs it up all night trying to find me, but it’s different now. I’m five times less scared or nervous. He usually sleeps before me and wakes up before me. I don’t struggle to fall asleep next to him which was something I had a huge problem with. I used to struggle being held and falling asleep and now I don’t have that problem even with the occasional heat overload. He makes me sleepy and cozy. He is big on cuddles so most of the time he passes out cuddling me and sometimes I get sleepy when we are in each others arms. I used to be scared of waking up my partner and upsetting them. I don’t have that issue now. In fact, I feel like I can just fucking EXIST and not be on eggshells. Like one night I was trying to crawl back in bed but my glasses were off so I tried to feel for the bed… but I grabbed his whole foot. Idk why but I had to burst into laughter. He woke up immediately as I grabbed his foot and was like ??? And laughed with me. Any time I leave the bed, I feel like his body just subconsciously looks for me. He’s not a light sleeper but if he notices that I’ve been gone for a while he will wake up or if I crawl back in bed he reaches for me. And waking up is delightful. Usually I wake up when he’s about to leave but he always spends a few minutes with me when I wake up. He will sit next to me or kneel next to the bed and hold my hand or press it against his face. He will remind me to take my morning meds. It’s always wholesome waking up to him. And now my cat cuddles him so he wakes up to her pressed up against him. It’s been a great change. My asthma was acting up last night and I couldn’t stop coughing. It kept waking me up but not once did he complain. I’m convinced at this point that he can sleep through my asthmatic coughing and only wakes up when it’s hoarse. It’s nice to just be a normal human being and not be on edge. I feel like I can take up space, make noise and sprawl out. If I’m cold I can tell him and he won’t be upset at me and he will tuck me in. It’s disappointing that I went so long not getting the bare minimum… fucking normal sleep with a partner but I’m finally here and it’s cozy.

[warmblanketwhump]

sick day

A coughs roughly, bracing themselves against the aisle after another fit of hacking left them gasping for breath.

It hadn’t been that bad this morning. They’d woken with a scratchy throat, achy limbs, and a tickle in their nose, but nothing unmanageable. Besides – they needed the money. Badly. Living alone was expensive, but they didn’t know anyone else in the city, and they were barely keeping their head above the water as it was.

So they’d thrown on an extra sweater, ignored the chill deep within their bones, and headed out to work.

4 hours into a 12 hour shift, A would have welcomed the sweet embrace of death. Or any embrace at all - something to stop the shakes in their limbs or still the spinning world.

As if by divine intervention, a hand reaches out and gently clasps their shoulder. “Hey, are you feeling alright?”

B had never seen anyone that sick still standing. Pale. Forehead slick with sweat. Shaky hands. Wearing one too many layers in the stuffy, crowded air of the grocery store.

A had only been working at the store for a couple months. but B couldn’t recall a time when A wasn’t working, morning or night. And it showed - in the dark smudges under their eyes, and the way they leaned heavily against the boxes of spaghetti they’d been trying to stock. Another round of coughs sent them reeling, and B rushes to their side and grabs their shoulder. “Hey, are you feeling alright?” A jumps, startled at the touch, and B drops their hand instantly.

“I’m...I’ll be fine,” A rasps, wiping their nose with their sleeve. They cross their arms, trying to hide the shiver that hunches their shoulders and rattles their teeth.

“A, you look like death warmed over. At the very least, you’re going to decrease pasta sales by a factor of 10 because you coughed all over them.” B smiles ruefully, but it doesn’t reach their eyes.

A tries to laugh at the joke, but a wave of dizziness swirls their vision, and they weakly grab at the shelf. Instead, they feel another body catch them – B’s solid, warm body which gently steadies them in a sort of hug.

“Easy there,” says B as A gasps for air, clasping weakly at B’s waist as B rubbed their back. In a matter of minutes, A is whisked back to their boss, and after a tense conversation in hushed whispers (of which A hears nothing) they’re out on the snowy streets, in B’s warm car, headed home. “There’s no way you’re working today, bud”, B says, slowly navigating the route to A’s apartment as A protests that they’re fine, to tell their boss they’ll come back to finish their shift after a quick nap.

As they help A navigate the creaking stairs of their cold, damp apartment building, B’s heart twists - no wonder A’s so sick if they’ve been living in a place like this in a winter this harsh.

They enter A’s dark, freezing apartment, and B gently deposits them on the threadbare couch and drapes a nearby blanket around their shoulders.

“Thank you...you didn’t have to bring me–” Another round of coughs cuts A’s rasping voice short, and they tug the blanket tighter around themselves and shiver helplessly. 

B frowns and gently feels A’s forehead (burning up) and slips their hand down to A’s neck to check their lymph nodes (definitely swollen). A draft from the window sets A’s teeth chattering, and B scans the sparsely furnished apartment, searching for another blanket. Eventually, they settle for shedding their own jacket and wrapping that around A, too.

“A, it’s freezing in here. Where’s your thermostat?”

“Won’t matter - it doesn’t work most days.” They cough again, longer this time. B rushes to A’s side, placing a hesitant hand between their shoulder blades and rubbing slow, deliberate circles until A finally catches their breath. A leans back and closes their eyes, breathing heavily, a single tear tracking down their cheek. B can tell that they’re exhausted, and their heart cracks at A’s huddled form.

B chews their lip, worried. The last thing they want to do is insult A, but staying alone in this awful apartment will only make them sicker. Their mind pops to their own warm, cozy apartment, their fully stocked medicine cabinet - and to the extra room, recently vacated by their roommate who had just taken a new job in another city.

You haven’t even known them that long, warns the rational side of their brain. Why should you worry yourself over them?

But even though B doesn’t know A well, they like them - the two of them made a good team, and although A was quiet, they had a fun sense of humor and seemed to genuinely care for those around them, always helping where they could, always quick with a compliment, a kind word, or a smile for someone else. 

And B knew how terrible it was to be sick alone. Two springs ago, they’d caught a bad cold - and nothing could truly capture the miserable feeling of dragging yourself out of bed, feverish, half alive, desperately hoping that someone would stop by and check in on you. Finally, B takes a deep breath.

Just ask. If they say no, you leave. That’s it.

“Say, um...look. I don’t want to be - you know, creepy or anything,” B stutters as A turns to meet their eyes. “It’s just...well, my shift is basically over by now, and I was just going to go home after this anyways, and I know your heating’s out so if you wanted to come hang out where it’s warmer until it’s fixed or something, you can. And I’ve got medicine and stuff at my place too, and my roommate just moved out so it’s just me and it wouldn’t be any trouble. If you want.” B let it all out in a single breath, hoping that they hadn’t sounded as awkward as they felt.

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

A’s eyes well up with tears, and they inhale a shaky breath that has nothing to do with their coughing fits. They had no reason to expect such kindness from someone who barely knew them, what they’d been through, how hard they’d been fighting, how long they’d been alone without anyone who cared.

They knew what B was really asking. B knew damn well that A’s heating wasn’t coming back on any time soon. They knew B likely suspected that A had spent the last few winter nights shivering themselves to sleep, and that this embarrassing, freezing apartment was all they could afford on their own, even after all those extra shifts.

And yet B still gave them the dignity of asking.

If you want. And they did.

“I’d like that.” A says quietly, voice rough from coughing.

B smiles, relief evident in their eyes. “Good. Let’s get you ready, then.”

10 minutes later, they head back down the stairs, B holding them steady and gently rubbing A’s arms to get some warmth into their still-feverish body. And despite feeling absolutely drained, A smiles. Maybe things would be okay after all.

[harrysweasleys]

caught in the act // f.w

summary:  how do you feel about writing a request for professor!fred and professor!reader bantering like cRaZy at hogwarts a few years after graduation and things just ~happen~ between them both? like maybe they try to one up each other all the time or they just dislike one another OR they're secretly dating but try to hide it from the students but the students know anyway? i don't even care what it is, i just desperately need professor fred k love u BYE

warnings: flirty and steamy, mentions of food 

word count: 3.7k

a/n: OK so this idea was stemmed from a very long chat between me, @ickle-ronniekins and @wand3ringr0s3 and it has finally been brought to life! this was so much fun to write and i really hope you all enjoy :) [i do not give consent for my work to be reposted on any platform.]

———————————————————————

The familiar echo of the Hogwarts bell never failed to make you jump out of your skin. Especially when you were currently eyeing a class full of students in eerie silence, broken only by the occasional drop of a quill. Their practice exam required lack of noise to the point where you swore you could hear the movements of your ribs as you inhaled and exhaled. 

The ringing sound echoed throughout the class for a short moment, the students in front of you all placing their quills down and forming a line towards your desk, their parchment in hand and some of their faces rather sullen. It was only a practice exam, but the real deal was coming up in a few weeks and revisions were taking up a majority of their free time. You couldn’t tell if their expressions were from the work they just did or from the lack of sleep.

You remembered your exam days at Hogwarts. Long, dreary nights in the common room by the fire until the sun came up, your eyes burning out of your scalp from reading scribbles and notes all night long. Those really were the days, weren’t they?

“I don’t think I did so well, Professor,” one of your students, a fourth year Hufflepuff, said with a defeated tone to his voice, “I couldn’t remember the proper spell.”

You had found it rather odd that for a Charms class, the students had to do a written practice exam. It wasn’t your decision — but you surely questioned it. 

“It’s alright, Edwards,” you grinned back, “It’s not the final thing. This will only prepare you for the one you take in two weeks. Remember, that one is a performance exam. If you’ve got your wand movements down, you’ll be all set.”

The boy nodded, no trace of a smile on his face as he turned away and trudged out of the class, his overly heavy backpack hanging off of his shoulder. 

A frown formed on your lips as the next student walked towards your desk, a confident smile on her face as she handed you her exam paper, “Have a good day, Professor!”

You were about to wish her a good day in return, but a figure by the door caught your attention instead. 

Fred Weasley — or, rather, known to his students as Professor Weasley — stood with his hands in his pockets, his button up shirt tucked tightly into his slacks. His hair was short, standing up and looking soft as ever. 

He shot you a quick wink, causing you to shake your head with a small laugh before you returned to collecting exams. You couldn’t give away that you were, indeed, dating a fellow professor. You were sure, due to the countless times you’ve popped in and out of each other’s classes, that some of them were suspicious. But you could hardly think about that too much without getting paranoid.

Your students filed out of the classroom one by one, each of them excited to finally be on lunch break. You could hear a few of them mutter a quick ‘good afternoon, Professor Weasley’ as they passed by him in the doorway, none of them striking any sort of conversation, much to your pleasure.

“And what can I help you with?” you grinned, standing up from your chair and placing a clip around the stack of papers, sitting them down in the corner of your desk so you could remember to take them with you and look at them in your office later in the evening. You much preferred to do your grading and marking at night — you felt much more ‘in the zone,’ so to speak.

He walked over to you, hands still in his pockets, “What? Can’t pay my girl a visit during breaks?”

You scoffed, taking out a large stack of paper from your desk drawer and preparing for the class of sixth years you had after your break. Fred was inching closer to you with each passing second, taking strides with his long legs as if time was running out and he was trying to get to you as soon as possible without running. You stifled a laugh at his movements.

“Considering no one knows I’m your girl, I’d say no,” you replied, giving him a small smirk, “We don’t want to get caught like last time do we?”

You mentally cringed, thinking back to when fellow professor Neville Longbottom caught you and Fred at the Hogwarts staff Christmas party, your bodies nearly flushed to each other and his head dipping down to whisper in your ear. That might not be a giveaway, but considering the nature of Fred’s words and the way your eyes grew wide as you gave him a slap across the chest, it was a bit of a statement. Neville had asked you that night if anything was going on between you two, to which you replied ‘it’s late, I need to leave.’ 

“Well, it would be a shame for the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher to be dating the Charms teacher,” he said, a fake grimace on his face, “You’re only the most brilliant person in this entire school. I would be so ashamed if people knew. The highest held Professor, me, dating you, the lowly Charms teacher — a tragedy, really.”

“Oh, excuse me,” you placed a hand over your chest, stepping closer to him and leaning against the edge of your desk, “A shame, you say? I’ll have you know people much prefer my class to yours, anyways. Actually, just this morning, a group of Hufflepuffs told me they liked me best.”

The corner of his lip curved up into a smirk, leaning closer and wrapping his arms around your waist, his hips leaning against yours. You felt his hands slide lower down your back, giving your bottom a quick squeeze. 

“Hands off, Freddie,” you poked him in the chest, “This relationship has now become a competition.”

He pursed his lips, “Well, can the academic competition start tomorrow after we perform the, to kindly put it, physical competition in my room tonight.”

You slid away from him, shaking your head, “You are unbelievable.” 

“Well, believe it, love,” even though you weren’t facing him, you could hear the smirk in his voice, “This is all yours.”

“Uh, Professor Y/L/N?”

You spun on the spot, colour draining completely from your face. You heard Fred let out an awkward cough, facing the doorway where someone now stood. One of the students from your previous class was standing awkwardly, books in her arms and a confused look on her face. 

“Oh, hello, Miss Myers,” you sighed, running a hand down your face, “Professor Weasley, do you mind giving us a moment?” Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, and the temperature in the room was now a million degrees warmer than it previously was.

Fred grumbled a quick ‘of course,’ and made his way out of the room, turning to give you a wide-eyed expression before closing the door behind him. You let out a deep sigh, falling back into your chair, tossing your hair over your shoulder and looking over at your student.

“Did I interrupt something?” she asked, clearly fighting a grin.

You waved your hand, “No! No,” you tried your best to act nonchalant, letting your student take a seat in front of you, “So, what can I help you with?”

She began expressing her worries for the upcoming exam, all the while you tried giving her the best tips and advice on how to study her charms carefully and safely. You couldn’t count the number of times students had tried their spells outside of the class and had something go horribly wrong. No one wanted to deal with that again.

Though, you kept wondering what she meant by ‘interrupting something.’

You knew that she didn’t mean it in an accusatory manner — you weren’t all cozied up to Fred when she walked in. She couldn’t have seen anything, could she? Even if she did, who would she tell? Headmistress McGonagall was well aware of your relationship with Fred. But she was the only one who knew. You didn’t want to even think about the rumours that would spread if word broke out about your — to put it scandalously — affair.

You honestly weren’t sure what was holding you back from just announcing it. If McGonagall approved, what’s the worst that could happen? 

“Thanks for the help, Professor,” Miss Myers’ voice cut your internal rambling short, causing you to shake your head.

“No problem, my door is always open,” you grinned, motioning your hand in the direction of the door. She gave you a bright grin and picked up her backpack, turning to give you a little wave before making her way out of the classroom, once again, the door shutting closed behind her.

A loud groan left your lips before you dropped your head, letting your forehead smack loudly against the hardwood surface.

———————————————————————

The next two weeks felt like a whirlwind. Not only was the end of term approaching as rapidly as ever, but because your fifth years were rushing towards you every hour of the day to prepare for their OWLs, you were feeling rather happy that you only had a few days left before you were out of here. A lot of them seemed to get the hang of their Charms abilities, but many of them still seemed to be a little off. You couldn’t blame them — fifth year was rough — but you really wanted them all to be successful and to pass. Many of your students wanted to go on and be Aurors. A passing Charms mark was kind of a necessity.

“So you’re alright with overlooking the exam?” the Headmistress asked, her pointy hat standing tall on her head as her emerald robes flowed loosely behind her, the two of you walking towards the Great Hall, “You won’t be alone, but I just wanted to double check.”

You grinned, “Of course, it would be my pleasure.”

The walk to the Hall wasn’t long, but you were feeling suddenly anxious. You had poured your heart and soul into the teaching that you had done this year — you only hoped it paid off enough. You didn’t want to disappoint or let your students down. This was the most important exam yet. 

The Charms exam was tomorrow at noon, so you weren’t sure why your wand was in a knot just yet, but the anxious bubbles in your stomach hadn’t calmed down over the last few days, to be totally honest.

You walked into the silent Hall, no students present yet, and came to a halt as you spotted the redheaded man standing all the way on the other side.

“Oh, so you’re my ever so lovely companion this afternoon?” he grinned, standing up off of his chair and placing the stack of papers down on the table in front of him, his sweater clinging rightfully to his body and causing you to scan your eyes up and down his figure. He had a pen sticking out from behind his ear and you could see the pleased expression cross his face, even from the other side of the room.

“I suspect you two will behave,” McGonagall said from next to you, her eyes twinkling with some sort of amusement as she gazed between the two of you, eyebrows raised.

“When do I not behave, Minerva?” Fred asked cockily, shoving his hands into his pockets — which suddenly seemed to be a signature move for him. You weren’t really sure where it came from, but you weren’t complaining. It gave him some sort of authoritarian vibe, which was one of the many reasons you felt as if today might be a tough day.

Leaving you and Fred alone, McGonagall left the hall with a quick shake of her head, her little heels clacking loudly. You rolled your eyes, walking over to stand next to him. Even as you walked up the few stairs to the platform, Fred’s height towered over you and caused you to crane your neck up to look him in the eyes.

“Well, well, well,” he grinned, his hands finding their way to your lower back, sliding down so that they rested in the bum pockets of your jeans.

“Fred!” you squeaked, giving him a light slap across the bicep before pulling away, “We’ve almost been caught twice. Third time is definitely not the charm, here.”

He let out a low chuckle, his chest vibrating and his eyes crinkling in the corners. You loved the sight of him in a good mood, your heart doing a little flip in your chest as he ran a hand through his hair. 

You couldn’t help yourself, leaning up onto your tip toes and pressing a light kiss to his lips, pulling away ever-so-quickly, reaching up and pulling the pen out from behind his ear in the process, putting it down on the little desk next to the chair he was previously seated in.

“Ha! Gotcha,” you grinned, using your index finger to tap his nose lightly. 

“Oh, okay,” he nodded, hands immediately finding their way around your waist, “That’s not fair, love.”

His lips quickly found their way down to yours, warm and inviting as always. No matter how many times you kissed him, you never got tired of it. You still got the same amount of tingles and butterflies as you did the first time he kissed you. And that’s not something you ever imagined would change. 

“Fred,” you mumbled against his lips, a low groan leaving his throat as you tried your best to wiggle out of his grasp. You could hear the voices of students down the corridor— they were bound to enter the Great Hall any second now. This was not the position you wanted them to see you two in. 

“Fine, fine,” he mumbled, pulling away and rolling his eyes. His lips were red and his cheeks were slightly flushed, but he looked as dashing as ever. It was hard for him not to look like this, actually. Something in Fred Weasley’s blood just made him irresistible. You often felt like cursing him out, honestly. 

Seconds later, the large door opened and the room was no longer silent. Fred shot you a quick wink, sending your heart into a fluttering frenzy, before you turned to face the oncoming group. 

“Good morning!” you announced with a somehow steady voice, “Everyone find your seat so we can begin!” 

It took a few minutes, but eventually the group each found their assigned desks and sat down, taking out their quills and parchment. 

“You have two hours,” Fred clapped his hands together, echoing loudly throughout the room, “And the two of us will be here if you have any questions. The lovely Professor Y/L/N has volunteered to keep me company, probably because she finds me irresistible—” you rolled your eyes, “—but we’ll both answer any questions you have.” 

You looked to the ground, hair falling into your face as you bit your tongue, holding back any snarky remarks towards your idiotic boyfriend. He really wasn’t helping the whole ‘lowkey’ aspect to your relationship.

“Does anyone have any questions before we start?” he asked, lifting his left arm to check the watch on his wrist. You finally peered back up, gazing over at the large clock that was sitting behind you. You immediately regretted not bringing a cup of tea or a snack, but the two hours were bound to fly by. This wasn’t your first time overlooking an exam period, and each time you’ve done this before, it’s never felt like it was dragging on.

“Good luck everyone!” you called out with a smile, clapping your hands together. They all began scribbling away as you finished your sentence, the scratching sound being the only noise you could hear as any previous chatter had now completely ceased. 

You walked slowly over to Fred, your hands crossed over your chest as you raised an eyebrow, “Really smooth, you know? Nearly gave us away, you did.”

He shrugged, giving you a lopsided grin, “Oh, come on. Pretty sure half this lot know we’re together anyways. They may be younger, but they’re not completely dim-witted.”

Scoffing and turning your back to the group to face him better, you tried your best to give Fred a serious glare, “None of them are dim-witted, Fred. I’m just saying it would be nice to avoid the drama that comes with public teacher relationships.”

You took a step back as he took one towards you, trying your best to maintain some sort of professional distance. The students might be busy with their work, but that didn’t mean they were blind to the two Professors standing watch at the front of the room. 

“I gotta admit, love,” he nodded his head, lowering his voice and leaning in, “the sneaking around has been rather fun.”

His voice sent shivers down your body, goosebumps rising on your skin. You forgot how to breathe for a second, quickly trying your best to regain your composure so the students didn’t see you looking like a fish out of water. 

You let out a low cough, clearing your throat and nodding, “It has, hasn’t it?”

The grin on his face was practically contagious, causing the corners of your own lips to turn up before lifting a hand to toss your hair out of your face. You gazed up at him, running your tongue over your bottom lip before pulling it between your teeth, shooting him a wink in the process.

You could see the way his eyes were drawn to your every move, looking at your lips as if in some sort of trance. It caused a little sense of pride to blossom in your chest, to be honest. Fred was often the one who had you locked in a permanent dreamy state. It wasn’t everyday that you had the upper hand.

“Not bloody fair,” he tossed his head back, “Y’know how badly that makes me want to kiss you.”

You smirked, giving him a quick shrug of your shoulders and turning away, swaying your hips as you walked over to the chair that was a few feet away, sitting down comfortably and giving him another wink. You could tell his gaze was on your hips as you walked away — the darker tone in his eyes now locked on you.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

———————————————————————

“You’re a real piece of work, y’know?” he groaned in your ear, leaning over you as you organized the pile of recently collected exams, making sure that Fred’s proximity wasn’t a distraction. You weren’t being overly successful at that last part, though. You could smell his cologne and the warmth of his skin as he stood mere inches away, knowing damn well that he was causing you to stutter in your work.

You had been teasing Fred the entire exam period, sending him winks and lingering looks, even being bold enough to run your hand through his hair at one point, making sure to rake your nails lightly down the nape of his neck, enough to cause his body to erupt in goosebumps. He gave you a stern look after that, letting you know that he was now completely and utterly under your charm. 

“Am I? Well, this is a competition, if you remember correctly. I think I won.” you spun around, leaning against the desk, a teasing look on your face. 

“Oh, you definitely won,” his hands slid around your waist, delicately but firmly. He had a way with body language that was unmatched, you had to admit. 

Taking a step closer to you and pulling your body closer to his, he dipped his head and began to pepper your jaw with light kisses.

“Fred,” you giggled, weakly attempting to push him away, “Not right now.”

He groaned against your neck, his lips continuing to press kisses along your skin. It was rendering your mind nearly completely blank, but you tried your best to stay focused, to make sure that you guys wouldn’t get caught and ruin the secrecy aspect to your hidden romance. Plus, you really didn’t want McGonagall to catch you in such a scandalous position. 

“Honestly, do you have no self control?” you asked, successfully pushing him away. You missed the warmth of his body pressed against yours, but you had a feeling you’d be getting a lot of that tonight so you weren’t too upset about it. He’d more than make up for it in a few hours.

“Not around you, love,” he grinned, running a hand through his hair. You wished you were the one doing it instead, but once again, you had a feeling you’d be doing that quite a bit tonight, so you figured you’d wait until you could do it with no worries of anyone cutting in. He loved the feeling of your hands running through his hair, delicately giving little tugs every now and then. 

You let out a laugh, shaking your head as you picked up the pile of finished exams, “You’re too much.” 

Fred followed closely after you as you made your way towards the exit of the Hall, his hands empty but he kept them to himself this time, “But you love me, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.”

———————————————————————

After having been empty this afternoon, the Great Hall was now bustling with life. The four house tables were filled with students and food, echoes of distant and nearby conversations reverberating around the crowded room. It wasn’t a sight one could get used to. Yes, you had spent seven years of your youth here, and a few years as a Professor now, but the atmosphere of this room would never quite sink in.

Professor Neville Longbottom, who was currently seated next to you, was rambling on about a mishap that happened in his class that day — something about a first year Gryffindor knocking over eight potted plants — and you nodded along and laughed as he made jokes. 

“Can you believe it?” he asked, eyes wide as he munched on a potato, “He thought Mandrakes and Mimbulus Mimbletonia were the same thing!”

You let out an amused snort, “Kind of hard to think that,” you took a sip of your goblet of wine, “But I guess some people don’t have the magical knack for plants that you do.” You nudged him in the side with a smile.

He grinned at the compliment, the tips of his ears turning a deep shade of red. Neville was two years below you while in school, but his knowledge of plants and nature was way beyond you.

The conversation fell to a lull and Neville became invested in chatting with the person to his other side. You didn’t pay much attention to who it was, as your eyes were now trained to the other end of the table, where the usual seat of Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor was occupied by your boyfriend. 

His eyes were already looking in your direction, causing a heat to surge through your body. A lazy smile was on his lips, and he clearly wasn’t paying attention to the elderly Professor Slughorn seated to his right. 

“I love you,” you could read his lips, his eyes bright as they stayed locked on yours. His smile was genuine and loving, quite opposite to the teasing one he usually gave you, and it left your stomach feeling rather fluttery.

You bit your lower lip, fighting a grin, before moving your lips in return, “I love you more.”

———————————————————————

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[hpalways]

Coin Flip || Childe

THERE were two sides to a coin. It could land on either heads or tails. One side could be shining, for it was lucky to never touch the ground, void  of being coated with all things slimy, while the other rusted, coveted to take the other’s spot. This was how you would describe Childe. 

Most people didn’t get to see what you saw out of him. Usually, he was labeled as the troublesome Fatui man who hid his bloodlust behind a charming smile. To that, you would not concur. It was true. He was a strange man, sometimes acting as if he was possessed by some war-like creature who decided to give no shits about consequences and whatnot. However, this was what made your days a little more interesting, for better or worse. He became someone you grew to care, and for that, that was enough to prevent yourself from leaving him anytime soon. 

Speaking of the devil, he was calling out to you. “My my… [Y/N], what’s with that silly face you’re making?” He proceeded to hold a slender hand up, pinching your cheek as if you were a baby. It frustrated you how the simple touch from him could invite a swarm of butterflies to your stomach. 

Pretending to not look as flustered as you felt, you swatted his hand away. “I was just thinking. What, is your tiny brain unable to do the same?”

He let out a dramatic gasp and placed his hand over his chest. “Oh, you wound me, dear Comrade.” His blue eyes hovered over your face and for some reason, he wouldn’t look away. Embarrassing. Instead, you broke eye contact before he did, averting your hues towards the sea that accompanied the Harbor of Liyue. But even then… the color rolling off from the waves reminded you of Childe’s eyes. Dammit. 

A warm breeze brushed through the two of you and his fiery, orange locks swayed along. It was annoying how you kept on turning back to him. Scowling to yourself, you focused on the stalls propped up with merchants in them, who were advertising. Some had red-orange fish laying there waiting to be sold. 

“So are you sure you’d like to tag along with me? The brother that’s visiting me today can be quite the handful.”

You nodded, not at all hesitating. “Of course! I think it’ll be fun. You’ve been working hard lately. A break is needed.”

He scratched his head and let out a chuckle. “Alright, alright. Stop fretting so much about me. I eat three meals and make sure to sleep every night.”

You waggled a finger towards him. “You better be.”

Entering upon the actual dock, you followed the tall male as he peered around to look for the ship that would supposedly contain his little brother. Boots clopping against the wooden floor, you dodged the crowds and was struggling to keep up with his long strides. He seemed to be anxious almost -- was he that excited to see his brother? 

The groups of people grew more and more dense by the second; the arrival of ships was the cause of it. Because of this, bodies pushed against you, nearly knocking you off your feet. Teeth grinding into one another, you tried to make it pass through them, but the obstacles further increased the gap between you and Childe. You were going to lose sight of him…

A hand broke through the tight space that encircled you, its palm open and welcoming. Wasting no time to grab on it, you felt it wrapped firmly around yours. It pulled you with great strength, breaking the walls that nearly trapped you. 

“Thank you, Childe,” you pant, hoping to calm your racing heart. His hand wouldn’t release yours, despite being out in the open. You nudge your head towards it in question, but his grip only tightened. He wasn’t going to let you go. 

“Try to keep up, won’t you?” he said. He grinned wide and something in his gaze glimmered. With that, the journey proceeded -- this time, with him lugging you along. 

Zig zagging through every dock that contained newly boarded ships, Childe scanned each and every one carefully. It took a few more minutes of a search, but soon enough, it was a success. 

Climbing down a ship on the end, a young boy stretched his arms up to the sky and stretched. He yawned loudly, too distracted to see the larger figures approaching him. To your pleasant surprise, he indeed resembled Childe. His red-orange hair to his deep, blue eyes, the two of them were no doubt brothers. Freckles smattered his nose and he wore a cozy-looking hat. 

“Teucer!” Childe called out, finally releasing your hand. He stepped forward with brisk steps, a smile decorating his lips. 

The boy glanced upward and instantly he brightened with adoration. “Brother!” He ran up to his brother, jumping around in excitement. “You’re here. You’re actually here!”

Your friend crouched down and engulfed the boy in a hug. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” So you weren’t imagining it. Childe was just as excited to see his brother. Your heart warming within you, you sort of felt bad to intrude on something that suddenly seemed too personal. When he finally straightened himself up, he turned his head towards you. “Ah, Teucer, I’d like you to meet someone.”

Clearing your throat, you neared the boy and leaned down slightly to extend a hand. He blinked innocently up at you and his gaze wavered from his brother to you, over and over again. Once he received a nod from Childe, he finally accepted the handshake. “Hey there, little buddy,” you said brightly, ignoring the awkward passing moment that had just occurred. “I’m [Y/N].”

“Hi there!” With that, he pulled a small toy out from nowhere and shoved it into your face. “Do you see this? My brother gave it to me during my last visit!”

“O-Oh, that’s very cool,” you said, slightly taken aback. Was it just you or did the toy look familiar to something? Maybe you were overthinking. 

The Snezhnayan man ruffled the boy’s hair and chuckled. “Come on, let’s not bother Miss [Y/N] too much here. Why don’t we go up to the mountains? You want to play with Mr. Cyclops?”

Easily, the child’s face brightened immensely. He nodded long and hard, jumping around in excitement. Furrowing your forehead in confusion, you couldn’t voice your inquiry because they were both already ahead of you, leaving the docks. Quickly pursuing after them, you decided to brush it off for the time being. You had a more important matter at hand: going on this tiring trek to the mountains of Liyue. Really? This was what he would label as relaxing? 

When the three of you left the entrance of the city, Childe lifted his brother onto his shoulders and extended a finger outward. “Are we ready for the travel ahead, hero Teucer?” he bellowed dramatically, playing along a role you never fathomed to see. He was so soft on his brother, it was insanely adorable to witness. 

This was exactly what you meant. Another one of his sides that no one else understood but you. He was more than a notorious Fatui, more than a vengeful man, more than a weapon. You were tired of society viewing him as that way, shaping him to be how they wanted him to be. 

Walking up the towering path that awaited you, you were breathing heavily by now. But Childe’s figure in front kept you going, for he was willing to carry his brother for the entirety of this trip. He was so persistent, but that was not a surprise. 

The moment you reached the top of the mountain, you slumped down to the ground and leaned against a tree. A beautiful view of Liyue Harbor was seen from a distance, the structures that made up the city looking miniscule for the first time. Meanwhile, the sun was starting to set, giving off a glowy haze that blanketed the world. 

Turning your head to see what the two brothers were up to, you watched as Teucer approached a Ruin Guard. Getting up hurriedly with panic taking over your expression, you were gently pushed back to the ground. “Childe… your brother!” 

“He’s fine, [Y/N], don’t worry. The Ruin Guard won’t activate,” he explained. 

That wasn’t the problem here! “Why… is he… playing with a… Ruin Guard?”

He sighed and rubbed his eyes warily, sitting down beside you. “I suppose I can’t get away with this, huh.” His glassy, blue hues were full of remorse and stress, and it was seemingly obvious that this was somehow taking a toll on him. “I’m keeping the Fatui a secret from him. He doesn’t know what a Ruin Guard is… so please don’t say anything!”

You shook your head and you couldn’t help but smile a little. “I won’t say anything, but I’m pretty sure this is going to bite you back in the ass someday.”

“Thank you so much!” he exclaimed, disregarding the last part. The next thing you knew, he gave you a bone-crushing hug. Your cheeks flaming up and your heart pounding long and hard against your chest, you could barely do a single thing. He had left you frozen. Too close, too close, too close. His homely scent, his touch, his heartbeat that aligned along with yours -- it was just too damn much to handle. 

It was an understatement to say that you were happy when he finally released you. Coughing loudly and looking away before he could notice your flustered state, you frantically thought of something to bring up. “You’re a good, older brother,” you pointed out. “Continue to take care of him, alright?”

“So you noticed,” he said, sounding prideful. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Turning to look at him again, you stilled in confusion. He looked so serious that it almost hurt. 

“Won’t you continue to take care of me?” He jutted his bottom lip out and gave you his best puppy eyes. 

Letting out a laugh, you rolled your eyes. “You’re such a child, Childe.”

[trulymadlysydney]

Scorpio Season: One

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

***Do Not Repost Without Permission***

It had started with a simple knock on her bedroom door.

Misty Garland was sitting and reading on her bed the first time she’d heard it.  It was a windy fall day, the slightest bit of sun poking through the clouds every so often.  Her sorority sisters had thought it was the perfect weather to go day-drink over at the Kappa house.  Misty thought she would rather die.

Her knee-jerk reaction had been to call out a soft “Come in!” to the knocking visitor.  But it wasn’t until after the words left her lips that it hit her-- she was home alone.

It wasn’t something that could be passed off as the creaking of the walls of the old house, or the knocking of a branch against the window.  No, it was a clear, distinct knock, as if someone were trying to get her attention.

Intrigued, she’d set her book down and padded barefoot across the floor.  “Hello?” She’d called out half-heartedly, knowing perfectly well that it was in vain.  Cautiously, she’d turned the gold knob and pushed her squeaking door open, only to be met with an empty hallway.  Just as she’d expected.

It should have worried her.  She should’ve been frightened or at the very least, slightly alarmed.  But she wasn’t.  She wasn’t any of those things.  

If anything, she was intrigued.

A slow smile spread across her face as she stepped out into the hallway.  One half of her brain reminded her that this could very well be one of her sisters who’d chosen to stay home instead of blacking out on Strawberitas and Jungle Juice with creepy guys.  If that were the case, however annoying it would be, she decided she’d laugh it off.  Chalk it up to a harmless, albeit immature prank.  She’d get whoever it was back, in tenfold.

However, that was not the case.

After searching the entire house top to bottom, (even going so far as to enter all of her sister’s rooms uninvited) Misty came to the equally exciting and somewhat disconcerting conclusion that she was, in fact, home alone.

For the rest of the evening, she waited for a second knock that never came.  She spoke, whispered, even shouted into the void, calling upon whatever dark spirit that had seemingly taken up temporary residence in her sorority home.

When only half of her sisters returned home that evening (with the other half apparently electing to stay with their respective boyfriends, girlfriends, fuckbuddies, etc) she’d gone back and forth debating if she should mention it to anyone. Ultimately, however, she’d decided that explaining it was not a good use of her time.  So she’d gone to bed early, hoping to hear another knock.

Another knock never came.

It was about a week later that her attention was caught again.  It wasn’t from a knocking, but from a gentle thud against the cold tile of the kitchen floor.

Misty had been in the kitchen, washing the dishes that had been slowly accumulating in her room for the past few nights of mid study-sesh snacks.  The house was fairly quiet that evening, save for the television in the living room and the chattering of gigging girls in the dining room-- obviously doing more chit-chatting than studying.

She’d been zoned out, lost deep in her thoughts when she’d heard it.  Something in the pantry had fallen.  Assuming it was a clumsy sister, she’d turned around to help clean up-- only to find that no one had been there at all.

There it was, though-- a loaf of bread that had fallen from the top shelf and landed in a spot that, according to physics, it wouldn’t have logically been able to land.

Misty glanced around the kitchen nervously, unsure of whether or not she should even dare touch the bread. She cleared her throat, becoming more and more aware of the lump growing there. She willed her brain to come up with something to say, anything, but all she could force out of her mouth was, “I… who…?”

Honestly, she wasn’t sure what type of response she was expecting, so she wasn’t surprised when she was met with none at all.  Her eyes had darted between the bread and the sink, which she’d left running, as her brain tried with all of its might to explain this situation in a logical manner.  

She held her breath, waiting to see if it would move again while her heart pounded loudly in her ears.  There was no way she could have imagined this, because there it sat, plain as the nose on her face.  With a deep breath and another hurried glance around the room, Misty took a step forward, slower than she’d ever moved in her life.  She craned her neck to see if there was anyone in the pantry (of course there wasn’t) and willed her heart to stop thumping so loudly.  Surely there had to be an explanation for this.  Maybe it was a prank.  Maybe she had left a window open and it was windy outside.

A loud laugh came from the dining room then, nearly startling Misty out of her skin.  She gasped, whirling around only to quickly realize that the sound was no more than a sister, laughing at a joke presented by another sister. Because of course.

Misty sighed, shaking her head at herself and rolling her eyes at how jumpy she was.  For heaven’s sake, it was just a loaf of bread.

She walked to the bread, picking it up to return it to its rightful home in the pantry and allowing herself no further thoughts about the incident.  Whatever it was, there was no logical explanation.  And some things, Misty thought, were just better off that way.  She was comfortable not knowing what had caused the bread to fall.  Maybe she would never know.  And she was okay with that.

Or so she thought.

The final time Misty had heard it had been the most prominent sign, and the one thing that had tipped her over the edge.  It was a night not unlike any other, and Misty was tucked up into bed.  She’d elected to keep the window open while she slept, because the weather that day had been perfect-- not hot, but not too chilly either.  The perfect weather to cuddle up under a blanket. Misty loved it.

So there she was, nightlight on and covers pulled up to her ears. The sheets smelled like the lavender spray she spritzed all over her bed each night, and although it was familiar and comforting, she couldn’t help but notice that tonight smelled slightly different.  The sheets smelled almost spicy, like cinnamon, and although it seemed a bit odd, Misty didn’t spare much more of a thought about it as she yawned most ungracefully.

In the spot between sleep and consciousness, Misty’s ears buzzed.  She could feel herself slipping into fully numbed relaxation, her thoughts coming in and out of focus like waves.  She knew she was about to be pulled completely under and slip into a dream that was already beginning to form in her brain… and then she heard it.

“Misty.”

Loud and clear.

Immediately, her eyes shot open.  As her full consciousness came quickly back to her, she sat up in her bed, eyes scanning the dimly lit room for the source of the voice.  Her blood ran cold as she waited in anticipation to see something-- a shadow, a full figure, anything-- but as she lay there, trying to catch her breath, she couldn’t tell whether she was terrified, relieved, or annoyed to be met with absolutely nothing.

“Is someone there?”

The only sound she was met with was her own breathing, and she let out an exasperated sigh.

“Look, I know you’re here,” she said slowly, absentmindedly fidgeting with the sheets as she waited for a response.  “And I’m… not scared of you.”

It wasn’t really a lie, of course;  she wasn’t scared so much as intrigued. Truthfully, even as a little girl this sort of thing had always fascinated her.  She’d always felt she had a special and strange connection to the other side.  But it had been ages since she’d really tapped into it, and now that she was practically face to face (so to speak) with what she assumed--and hoped-- was a spirit, she was feeling, at the very least, overwhelmed.

“Did you hear me?” She asked, voice a bit louder than before.  “I’m not scared.”  Nothing. “You’ve been messing with me for like, a while now.  And I want you to know I hear you.”  Nothing.   “You don’t have to hide yourself.”

And still, nothing.

Misty sighed. “You know, I think it’s pretty rude of you to not introduce yourself.  You just show up and wake me up when I’m almost asleep and then ignore me?  You throw stuff around, you knock on the walls and the doors and stuff, and for what?  Just so you can get a laugh?”

When she was met once again with the deafening sound of silence, she rolled her eyes.  Misty reached up to rub the sleep out of her eyes with a finger and gave her room one last scan before speaking again.  “I’ll get you to talk,” she says, “one way or another.  Don’t think I won’t.”

Nothing.

“This is a threat.”

Nothing.

Misty shook her head, laying back down in her bed and pulling the covers up to her chin.  It really was a threat.  She had read about ways to contact spirits her entire life, but she’d never actually been brave enough to try any of them.  In fact, in all honesty, the thought of doing it now still scared her a bit.  Nevertheless, this spirit intrigued her.  And as Misty drifted somewhat uneasily into sleep once again, she went over the different ways she was going to try and contact them to know once and for all what it was they had to say.

Which is how Misty finds herself where she is now.

Currently, Misty sits alone in the attic of the old sorority house, setting up for a ritual that she’s never been brave enough to try.  The attic is old and a bit stuffy, and Misty coughs as she crawls along the dusty floor into the center of a circle of unlit candles.  In hindsight, Misty realizes that the ritual doesn’t really need to be performed up here, considering that she does have the entire house to herself this evening.  Still, it seems fitting-- the perfect amount of spooky while still being in a somewhat well- lit and cozy area.

The sky outside is a dark blue,  bright enough for her to be able to see her surroundings just barely; and as she glances around in the darkness, she notices that one of the candles in her circle is slightly out of place.  She reaches forward to adjust the candle, then takes a deep breath in through her nose to steady and ground herself before reaching into her pocket for a small green lighter.

“Alright,” she says, reaching forward to begin lighting the candles one by one.  “It’s just you and me here.  And you will show yourself to me one way or another, alright? Nice and easy.”

As she works her way around the circle, lighting each and every candle, Misty prays that the spirit is a kind one.  Maybe a sister from the very beginning of her sorority’s chapter.  Maybe a lost child trying to find their way to the other side.  Maybe--

“OW, fuck!” Misty yelps when she accidentally burns her finger lighting one of the last candles in the circle.  She sticks the finger in her mouth to wet it, then pulls it out and shakes it violently, trying desperately to ease the pain.

Misty sighs in frustration at the slight inconvenience of her throbbing finger, then finishes lighting the final candle in the circle.  She glances around, pleased with her work, before settling herself in the direct center of the candles, cross legged and as relaxed as she can possibly be.

She tries her hardest to calm her pounding heart. Everything she’d read online about this process had highly recommended getting a professional medium-- one who wasn’t going to get anxious and mess up the process.  Misty, of course, did not have access to that.  So here she is.

Taking another deep, slow breath-- in through her nose and out through her mouth-- Misty allows herself to sit in the stillness for a few beats.  She feels her heart rate slow down, and she takes another breath. Reaching beside her quietly, so as not to disturb the peace that is washing over the room, she picks up one of the stones she’s brought up here for protection.

The small stone feels rough and cold in her hand, and she squints down at it to make sure it’s the stone she wanted.  It’s light purple color tells her that it’s an amethyst, and she focuses intently on it for a few moments before taking another long breath-- in through her nose, out through her mouth.

Misty holds the amethyst in her palm, allowing herself to really observe the feeling of it.  She focuses on the weight of the stone in her hand, and the way the cool, rocky underside feels against her sweaty palm.  She tries to focus on the energy she can feel from the rock, envisioning it surrounded in a glowing white light.  She stays like this for a while, and when she’s certain she can actually feel the warm light that she’s envisioning,  she clears her throat gently and speaks.

“I dedicate this crystal to the highest good of all.  May it be used in light and love.”

Misty lets her words hang in the air for a few moments before repeating them, three more times.  After she’s certain her words have stuck, she slowly brings the stone up to her chest.  She allows herself to pause, to really feel the faint thump of her heart and the jaggedness of the stone against her chest.  She takes in another deep breath and closes her eyes.

“I program this crystal for clarity.  For heightened intuition, for protection from evil.  I program this crystal for open communication, and unclouded thoughts. I program this crystal for calmness.”  With one last breath, she speaks her final words-- a repeat of an earlier sentence.  “May it be used in light and love.”

Misty lowers the crystal then, placing it in front of her in a spot where she can always see it out of the corner of her eye.  Programming the crystal did help to ease her nerves, yes, but not entirely.  Seeing it sitting in front of her in her little circle of candles does wonders, however, to remind her to stay calm, stay focused, and stay present.

So, shit, she thinks, she’s done everything she can at this point.  Now it’s time for her to act.

Shot in the dark, she opens her mouth.

“If there is someone in here with me tonight,” she begins slowly, eyeing the room, “will you please show yourself?”

When she is met with silence, she sighs.  “It’s just me here,” she says softly.  “Just me. We have the whole house to ourselves.  I just want to know who you are.  If there’s something I can help you with.”

Misty pauses, and goes to open her mouth to speak again when she sees it.  The gentle flutter of only one of the flames.  If she’d have blinked, she would’ve missed it-- but there it is.  A little wiggle of the flame that deviates from the gentle flicker of the others.  Misty smiles, and lets out a little surprised breath.

“Was that you?” she asks, then pauses.  She doesn’t even realize she’s holding her breath as she watches the flame intently, and when it flickers abnormally again she lets out a pleased laugh.  

“I see,” she says, unable to hide the smile on her face and the pounding of her heart.  “That was easier than i thought it was going to be.  Are you the spirit that’s been messing with me?”

There’s a brief pause, and then the candle flickers again.  Misty can hardly believe her eyes.  “I knew it,” she says, more to herself than to the spirit. She scrambles to think of the next question she’s going to ask, because she wants to hold the spirit’s attention as long as she possibly can.

“Can you do something else to show me you’re here? Maybe like… move two flames instead of just the one?”

There are a few moments of silence, and Misty almost worries that she’s asked too much of the spirit.  She’s about to say a few words of encouragement, to remind the spirit that it’s only her and them in this room, when she sees it.

Every single flame flickers chaotically, in all different directions.  Misty can hardly believe her eyes.

“Oh my god,” she breathes.  “Holy shit.”

Misty swallows thickly as she ponders what exactly is happening.  “Okay,” she says slowly.  “Can I ask you a few questions?”  

There is no response, but Misty thinks nothing of it.  “Who are you?” she asks, then immediately rolls her eyes at herself.  How is she expecting the spirit to identify themselves to her?

“Okay, don’t answer that,” she quickly adds.  “Umm… how can I ask this?”

There’s a creak in the floor, as if someone were stepping closer to her, and it makes the hair on her arms stand up. She licks her lips as she tries to keep herself calm.

“Okay… um… are you a ghost? One flame for yes, two for no.”

She feels stupid for asking that, but she isn’t really sure how else to ask.  She stares at the candles almost a little too intently, and scoffs when one of the flames flickers.

“Should’ve figured that,” she mutters, “sorry.”

Misty notices that one of the candles is slightly out of place, and she reaches forward to adjust it.  Just as she does, however, she is overcome with the sense of feeling insanely cold. She gasps, retracting her hand quickly, and the air in the room becomes tense.

She clears her throat as she processes what she just felt.  “Was that you?”

There is no response, but the thickness of the air does resolve a bit.  Misty settles appprehensively back down into her comfortable position before changing the subject.

“How long have you been dead?”  she tries.

There’s a brief moment, and she considers rewording her question, when she notices that four different flames flicker in succession, one right after the other.  “I see…” she says,  “So four years then?”

There is no response, and Misty thinks about their answer.  “That’s not very long,” she says, frowning.  “This must be a pretty fresh death, no?  I’m sorry.”

One of the flames wiggles, almost sympathetically, and it makes Misty giggle.  In all honesty, she’s feeling completely comfortable with this spirit.

“Look,” she says, relaxing her posture a bit.  “I wish I was better at this.  Truth be told, I’ve never really…. talked to a ghost before? So like, I hope I’m doing this right.  I wish I had a better communication system though.”

The flame that wiggled gently before suddenly begins to shake with more vigor, burning brighter and somewhat bigger than it had before.  This catches Misty’s attention.

“Do you have something you’d like to say?” She asks, and the flame grows slightly larger.

“You’re free to say it,” she says, moving to tuck her knees under her butt.  “Like I said, it’s just you and me in here.”  She watches the flame dance, enthralled and fascinated by its movement.

“Why me?” she asks, and another flame begins wiggling violently as well.  “I mean… why have you contacted me?  Surely you have something to say.”

A third flame begins shaking, and Misty is growing a bit anxious.  “I know you have a voice,” she says, her own voice a bit louder now.  “I’ve heard it.  You woke me up the other night.”

Misty’s eyes dart from one flame to the next, willing herself not to panic at the way the flames seem rather large.  Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the reflection of the flames on the glassy edges of her amethyst, and she thinks perhaps she should reach for it to remind her to stay grounded, stay calm, stay focused.

Just as she raises her hand to reach for it, however, a fourth flame grows larger in size.

“What are you trying to tell me?” she asks, growing a bit frustrated.  “I don’t know how else to help you other than--”

Misty is cut off when she sees the amethyst move, ever so slightly.  She freezes in her tracks.

She wants to pass that off as a trick of the lights, but there’s no way she can.  She saw it move, plain and simple.  Not to mention she’d heard the soft scratching of the stone moving against the wooden floor.

When Misty looks up, almost all of the candles are flickering aggressively.  She gasps, completely panicked now.

“Show yourself!” she blurts out.  “I know you’re here, I know you have something to say!”

She watches the flames intensify, and she almost considers abandoning this entire mission and blowing them all out right here.

“Why are you doing this?” she asks.  “Just… say something!”

In somewhat of a trance by the way the candle lights flicker, Misty feels her heart rate increase as she stays stuck, frozen against the wooden floor.  That same smell of cinnamon as before fills her nose, and she swallows thickly around a dry throat.  “I--” she nearly chokes on her words.  “Why are you trying to scare me?” she shouts.  “I said, say something!”

Still nothing.  Now she’s growing increasingly more impatient.

And then it happens.

With a sudden gust of air Misty is shoved, and all of the air in her lungs is let out with a forceful grunt.  The candles are extinguished all at once, and the room instantly grows a stuffy sort of dark.  The moon shining brightly in the window somehow fills Misty’s stomach with anxiety and dread, not relief.  She swallows thickly, taking a few moments to gather her wits and straining her eyes against the thick blackness surrounding her.

The stillness of the room is alarming, and Misty’s heart pounds aggressively against her rib cage.  It isn’t until her lungs start burning that she realizes she’s been holding her breath for fear of breaking the silence, and she lets it out slowly and cautiously.  

With a shaky hand she reaches forward until she feels her lighter once again, and she flicks it on. She can hardly see in the dimly lit room, but her eyes begin to adjust, and she glances around herself nervously.  “Who are you?”

“It’s about time, sunshine.”

The voice comes from behind her and startles her so much that she jumps, flinging the lighter halfway across the floor and bathing the room in darkness once again.  Shit.

“Ohh,” coos the voice, deep but unthreatening.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.  Here.”

Misty feels a brush of cold air that causes the hairs on her arms to stand up before, one by one, each candle in the room flickers alive once again.  Her jaw trembles as she tries to find the source of the voice in the now illuminated room.

“I thought you weren’t scared,” the voice says again, now coming from a different direction.

“I wasn’t,” she says, then swallows around the dryness of her throat.  “I’m not.”   It’s a complete lie, but she doesn’t want to let her guard down now.

The voice is raspy and deep, but friendly, and a thick, honey drip of a british accent coats the noise sweetly.  “That’s a lie,” it says, and it sounds like a man.  A pouty man at that.  “You weren’t so afraid of me before.  Now you’re shaking.”

“You just startled me, that’s all.  Where are you?”

“Well, I’m not going to show you if you’re going to be scared.”

Somehow, his words aren’t comforting.  Still, Misty isn’t a quitter.  “What is there to be scared of?  Are you a ghost?”

“I am.”

She smirks.  “Are you an ugly ghost?”

This time, he scoffs. “Hardly.”

“Well!” Misty says.  “Someone’s full of himself, isn’t he?”

“I’m not!” he insists, and he sounds closer now.   “It’s just that you spoke a big game before. Now I’m not so sure you’re ready for this after all.”

Misty sighs, growing increasingly more irritated by the second.  “If I wasn’t ready for this, I wouldn’t have summoned you.  I thought you were intriguing before.  Now you’re just annoying.”  She moves like she’s going to stand, and suddenly feels another gust of cold air on her arm.

“Wait!”  He sounds as though he’s right in front of her now, and she’s overwhelmed by his cinnamon scent.  “I’m not trying to be annoying.  I just… want to make sure you’re ready for this.”

“I told you I am,” Misty huffs.  She gestures vaguely around the room.  “Your words are scaring me more than any of this did.  Why wouldn’t I be ready to see you?”

“I don’t know,” he says softly.  “Just… sometimes people don’t know how to respond when they see their first manifestation.”

“I’ve seen a ghost before, dude.”

Now, it’s his turn to sound intrigued.  “Have you?”

“M-hm.  I’ve always been able to sense these kinds of things.”

“But have you seen one?”

“Shadows mostly.  Or I heard voices.”

“But a physical manifestation--”

“You don’t count shadows?”

“Of course I do.”  There’s a noise, and it sounds as if the spirit has just sat down.  “But I’m not a shadow.”

“What are you then?”

“I’m a different type of ghost. Did you know there are several types?”

Misty leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees.  “I mean yeah, of course, but I had always just assumed you all showed yourselves as shadows.”

“Not all of us.  I mean, we can-- but it isn’t natural for me.  I’m not sure we’ve got an actual name for me, but there are many out there like me. We’re a certain type of intelligent ghost that can physically interact with the linear time and space around us.  Usually we’re harmless.”

“Are you harmless?”

Once again, she can practically hear the spirit’s smile.  “Usually.”

“So… when I see you, you’ll look like, what, just a regular dude?”

“Yeah, more or less.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.  Why are you hyping this up so much?”

“I don’t know! It’s been a long time since I’ve manifested in front of someone!”

“Ah.” Misty grins.  “So you’re the one who isn’t ready.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“It’s why you’ve been stalling for so long. You wanted my attention so badly, and now you’ve got it.  So show yourself.”

“Fine,” he huffs.  “There’s no need to be pushy.”

Silence follows his words, and Misty stares blankly ahead-- waiting for something to happen.  She shakes her head slowly and shrugs.  “I don’t…. Get it....”

“Turn around.”  

Once again, Misty jumps out of pure surprise when the spirit’s voice comes from behind her.  She whirls around almost too quickly, nearly losing her balance despite being seated.  The minute she sees him standing calmly behind her, she rises.

She takes a moment to really just look at him.  She’s not sure what exactly she’d been expecting; maybe a glowing transparent blob of a young man from the early 1900s, or, worst case scenario, a perfectly normal looking guy who just happened to have a very visible axe lodged into his brain (or some other indication of his death)-- but in any case, he doesn’t look like anything she’d been anticipating.  He looks like any other guy she’d see walking around on campus, and if it weren’t for the hardly visible glow outlining his body, she’d assume this was a new Kappa pledge pulling a prank on her as part of his hazing.

He’s got shaggy brown hair that hangs from his head in curls that frame his face and his ears.  His eyes are blue-- or are they green?  Misty isn’t close enough to be able to tell, and truthfully she’s still a bit apprehensive about befriending a dead guy, so she stays put.  Whatever color they are though, they’re beautiful.  He’s not floating-- she doesn’t know why she’d been expecting him to-- but standing flat on his feet he’s still taller than her.  He’s one of the prettiest people she’s ever seen, and it makes her feel faint (although she blames that on the fact that she’s face to face with someone who’s died).

“I’m Harry,” he says slowly.  He’s calm, but he’s unsure.  He watches her as if waiting for some type of earth-shattering reaction.  The less she moves, the more nervous he becomes.  When she doesn’t say anything, he speaks again.  “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

For someone who isn’t alive-- Misty can’t seem to get over that fact-- he dresses remarkably well.   He honestly does look like a Kappa brother, and it weirds her out.

“How did you do that?” She frowns at herself.  That was the first thing she could think to say?

Harry laughs, relieved that she’s seemingly so calm. He shrugs.  “Dunno.  Just something I can do.”  He takes a step towards her and, instinctively, Misty takes half a step back.

This time, Harry smirks, but he doesn’t move closer.  “Are you still scared?”

“I was never scared!” Misty groans.

“Just startled then.”  There’s a twinkle in his eyes, and now Misty can see that they’re clearly green.

Misty rolls her eyes.  It’s impossible to stay annoyed at him when he’s looking at her like this.  “Fine!” she sighs.  “I’m a little scared.”

“Ha!”  Harry beams jubilantly.  The smile fades just as quickly as it came, however, and he frowns.  “Why are you still scared?”

“I don’t know! I’ve just never done this before.”

The bright smile returns to his face, softer this time, and Misty-- though still apprehensive-- relaxes a bit.  “I’m not going to hurt you,” he says gently.  

“I didn’t think you were,” Misty replies.  “But I also don’t know why you wanted my attention so badly.”

Harry shrugs.  “Because.  I think you’re pretty.”

It’s so straightforward that Misty is taken aback, and she scoffs.  “What, seriously?”

“Yeah.”  Harry blinks back at her, standing by his words completely and keeping that air of smugness about him.

Misty waits for a further explanation, but when Harry only stares back at her and raises his eyebrows, she realizes that she isn’t getting one.  She laughs in disbelief.  “So you went through all this trouble…. Just to tell me I’m pretty?”

“Suppose so.”  Harry’s head cocks a bit to the left, and it’s the first time that Misty notices the endearing little dimple on his cheek.  She doesn’t know why he flusters her so badly, but she feels her cheeks heating up when she realizes that yes, he’s telling the truth.  He really did just want to tell her she was pretty.

Misty’s hand comes up to comb through her hair and she swallows thickly. “Oh.  Well.  Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The silence that follows isn’t awkward, but it’s tense.  The air is thick with tension, in fact, and Misty wonders if it’s possible to flirt with a ghost.

Harry clears his throat.  “Anyway. If you want me to leave you alone--”

“No!” Misty responds, almost too quickly.  “I don’t.  Not at all.”

“You don’t?”  Harry beams back at her, and Misty realizes that he really is just as nervous as she is.

“I don’t,” she replies.  “But, I mean-- are you just gonna live here from now on?  In the attic?”

Harry laughs, a tinkling noise that sends butterflies straight to the pit of Misty’s belly. “I live in this house one way or another.  Have for several years.  It’s just that I can only show myself at a certain time of year.”

“But why is that?”

“You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?”  Harry laughs, taking another cautious step towards Misty.  When she doesn’t retreat, he relaxes and fully closes the gap between them.   Once again, the smell of cinnamon fills Misty’s nose.  Slowly and decidedly, Harry reaches forward to touch her arm and the instant his hand comes in contact with her skin, she is flooded with goosebumps.

His skin is cold, but not as cold as she was expecting. Although honestly, she wasn’t expecting to be able to make tangible contact with him at all.  But she can feel it so clearly-- five fingertips trailing comfortingly along the skin of her arm with the gentleness and intention of a lover.  Five perfectly groomed fingernails that show no indication of death.  Standing this close to him, she can make out the details of his face; a little scar on his neck, a small freckle on his lip, soft smile lines around his eyes.  Misty shivers-- partly because of the coldness of his touch, but mostly because it’s been ages since she’s stood this close to someone so beautiful.

His fingers trail down to her hand, and then more specifically, the one finger she burned.  She’s almost in a trance as he brushes his cold fingers against the stinging patch of skin, and in an instant any pain she felt in the throbbing finger is now gone.

Misty glances from her finger, then back to Harry, who’s smiling the most tender smile she’s ever seen.  “How…?” She begins slowly.

Harry lets out a sigh, and Misty realizes they’ve just been staring at one another.  “Don’t worry about it, sunshine.”

Misty practically melts into his touch, and she isn’t sure if he’s got a spell on her or what, but she has the overwhelming urge to kiss him now.  She swallows, then opens her mouth to speak before Harry cuts her off.  “Your sisters are home.”

“What?”

She doesn’t have time for answers, however, when through the attic window she sees the blue mini cooper of one of her sorority sisters pull up to the curb.  She watches the car for a moment.  “How did you--”

But when she turns to finish her question, Harry is gone.

------

The following day, Misty finds herself bundled up and sitting in her favorite spot on campus, despite the chill in the air.  She’s sitting on the cold grass against a large rock, overlooking a tiny stream that runs throughout the entire small town. She knows it won’t be long before the stream freezes over, so, despite the cold weather, she’s brought herself here to read and listen to the babbling water while she still can.

Harry hadn’t showed up for the rest of the night last night, which had led Misty to wonder if she’d dreamt the entire thing.  It had kept her up most of  the night, and when he still hadn’t appeared this morning, she knew she had to do something to get her mind off of him.  

Which is how she’s found herself here now.  Most of her homework for the week is done, so she’s decided to spoil herself by grabbing her favorite coffee at the shop she frequents and a new book at the library before heading to her spot.

It’s a brisk October day, and the Halloween decorations hanging from the campus houses flutter in the chilly wind. Misty wraps her scarf a little tighter around her neck and snuggles further into her coat as she turns the page of her book.

“There you are.”

Misty jumps, nearly spilling her coffee, when she hears it.  The thick, British drawl she’s been so desperately craving to hear all morning comes from behind her, and she whirls around to see Harry, in the exact same outfit he’d been in last night, smirking at her.

“Stop doing that!” she hisses.  Despite her grumpy tone, she scoots over when Harry makes his way to sit beside her.  She feels immediately comforted when she smells the cinnamon that comes with his presence.

Harry chuckles, plopping into the grass. “Sorry.  Didn’t mean to.”

“It’s about time you showed up,” Misty huffs, putting her finger between the pages of her book to mark her place.

The smirk on Harry’s face is so smug that Misty wants to slap it off of him.  “You’ve been expecting me?”

This throws Misty off guard, and her cheeks go hot.  “Well, yeah,” she says, trying to maintain her attitude. “I mean, don’t you think you owe me an explanation?”

Harry laughs.  “No, I don’t.”

“Seriously?”  Misty rolls her eyes.  “You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”

“Not a person,” Harry states.  “I’m a ghost.”

“Well whatever you are, you’re annoying.”  

“Thank you.”  Harry nods towards the book in her hands.  “What are you reading?”

Misty doesn’t answer him, suddenly far more self-conscious than she’d been before.  He reaches out to take the book and pulls it closer to himself to read the title aloud.

“‘When Ghosts Speak: Understanding the World of Earthbound Spirits.’”  He snorts.  “Seriously?”

“Well if you won’t tell me anything, I have to figure it out myself.”

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know!” Harry says, relaxing against the rock and stretching his feet out in front of him.  “Fire away.”

Misty eyes him for a moment.  “You’re not kidding?”

“I’m an open book.”

She takes his sudden burst of confident vulnerability and considers the questions she wants to ask.  There had been so many in her head since he’d disappeared last night, but now that she’s on the spot, she’s blanking.

Misty clears her throat.  “Alright.  I’ll start off easy.  How are you here?”

Harry smiles.  “I can go anywhere I want to.  Just like you.”

“Can anyone else see you?”

“If I wanted them to.  But I don’t.”

Misty looks around, suddenly nervous that anyone nearby might hear her speaking and think she’s talking to herself.  Luckily, she seems to be the only person crazy enough to willingly subject herself to this weather.  So she turns back to Harry.

“So then why did you wait for me to summon you?  Why didn’t you just show yourself?”

“That’s where it gets tricky,” Harry responds. “I can only manifest during a certain time period every year.  But in order to manifest at all, I have to be invited first.  After I accept the invitation, I’m free to come and go as I please until the end of the season.”

“So you’re going to be a pest for this entire fall then?”  Despite her words, Misty smirks.

Harry matches her wit and chuckles.  “No, not that kind of season.  Scorpio season.”

“Oh god,” Misty groans.  “You’re an astrology freak, aren’t you?”

Harry snorts.  “Look, I didn’t make the rules.  That’s just the way it is.  When Scorpio season starts, I can show myself.  When it ends, I leave.”

“Where do you go?  When it ends, I mean.”

Harry shrugs.  “I dunno.  Nowhere bad.  It’s just kinda… nothing.  I can’t explain it.”

“Is it scary?”

Harry considers her words, then shakes his head.  “I… really can’t explain it. It’s not scary.  It goes by fast.  I just kind of… sleep, I guess.  Nothingness.” A sudden thought dawns on him, like he’s remembering something.  “But! I can pop into people’s dreams while I’m there.”

“You can?”

“Yup.  I don’t do it too often, just because it takes a lot of my energy, but I’ve seen some pretty interesting things, I’ll tell you that.”

Misty doesn’t say anything, and Harry lets her sit in silence while she processes his words. He knows it’s a lot, and he knows he would be weirded out if he were in her shoes.  So he watches her, trying to gauge her reaction.

Finally, she turns to him.  She doesn’t look nervous, but something is on her mind. “Can I ask you something… a little more personal?”

“Anything.”

“Okay.”  Misty takes a deep breath, focusing her attention on the birds hopping around nearby.  “How did you… die?”

“How did I die?”  Harry repeats her question, then blows out all of his air in a puff.  “It’s not anything exciting.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,  I just--”

“No, no!” Harry holds up his hand.  “I don’t mind.  It’s just… anticlimactic I suppose. And you’re probably going to laugh.”

Misty leans closer, a serious look spreading across her face.  “I wouldn’t dare laugh about someone’s death.”

“No, you will,” Harry says, smiling to himself.  “It’s kinda funny.”  He takes a deep breath, preparing to tell the story.  “I fell off the roof of your house.”

Harry laughs, but Misty doesn’t find it funny at all.  “That’s horrible, Harry.  How did you--”

“While having sex.”

Misty stops her sentence dead in its tracks, and a new look of pure surprise blossoms on her face.  “You…”

Harry sighs, launching into the story.  “A few years ago, your sorority was throwing a Halloween party.  I wasn’t into Greek life but a few of my mates dragged me along.  I was already pretty drunk by the time we got there, right, so all bets were off.  Well, I met this girl, right?  Never even learned her bloody name, but I guess she was a sister.  Made eyes at me from across the room and it was over.  Drank some more, chatted her up, and then we decided ‘hey, might as well.’  Only, all of the bedrooms were taken.  So then, she had the brilliant idea to go up on the roof.  It was raining so, you know, in hindsight we should’ve known better.  But we were drunk and horny and stupid. So we went up, started going at it, slipped, and uh… splat.  So to speak.”

Misty doesn’t know how to respond, and Harry doesn’t expect her to.  He just chuckles.  “Found me with my pants around my bloody ankles,” he continues. “ Not a very dignified way to go is it?”

“That’s awful.”  Misty frowns.

“Eh.  What can you do? Apparently the girl lived but she felt so guilty that she dropped out of school and moved away.  I guess no one’s heard from her since.”

“You don’t think she did it on purpose, do you?”

“Oh, nah.  No way.  It was an accident.”

“I’m sorry to make you talk about it.”

“I don’t mind talking about it,” Harry replies.  “All I can do is laugh about it at this point.”

“Well,” Misty says, shifting her position against the rock.  “I still don’t think it’s funny.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“Can I ask you something else?” she asks, changing the subject.

“Mm?”

“Why me?  Like, what was it about me that made you decide ‘Ah, yeah, she’s the one I’m gonna haunt?’”

Harry smiles, crossing his foot over his opposite leg and resting his ankle to his knee.  He gives her question a moment of thought before responding.  “Told you.  Think you’re pretty.”

Misty rolls her eyes but the smile that forms on her lips is undeniable. “That’s seriously it?”

“I mean,” Harry says slowly, absentmindedly shaking his foot back and forth.  “Yeah.  Been stuck at that house for the past, what, four Scorpio seasons now?  You’re the first girl I’ve seen who’s caught my attention.”

“Ew, so you like, spy on us?”

Harry snorts.  “No, god, I’m not a perv.  But, you know, I live there, too, so.  Sometimes I’ll join in for movie night.  Or game night.  I also pop in to the occasional party.  But I don’t spy.”

“Good,” Misty says.  “Although I don’t even think you’d find anything juicy anyway.  They’re a bunch of duds.”

“Can I ask you something now?”  Harry’s got an intrigued smile on his face.

“Yeah.”

“Why did you join a sorority?  You seem to hate everything about it.”

Misty sighs.  “I don’t hate it,” she says slowly. “I mean, it definitely wouldn’t have been my first choice for like, extra-curricular activities.”

“So why then?”

“I’m a legacy,” she replies.  “My mom and my grandma were both Beta Sigmas. They would’ve killed me if I didn’t.”

“Is it really that serious to them?”

Misty smirks.  “For someone who lives in a sorority house, you sure know nothing about sorority girls.”

Harry’s laugh is sudden and it makes Misty’s heart warm despite the coldness of his presence.  “It would appear so.  Jeez.”

The two fall silent for the next few moments, residual giggles dying off into happy sighs.  It’s obvious that they both enjoy one another’s company, and Misty is ridiculously glad that he’s come back to check up on her today.

After about a minute of silence, however, another question pops into her head.  “So.  You’re a Scorpio then?”  

Harry laughs, shaking his head. “I’m not, no.  Or, I wasn’t, when I was alive.”

“Why Scorpio season then?”

“Because it coincides with spooky season, I guess. Or maybe because I died at a Halloween party?  I don’t know.  I didn’t make it up.”

“What are you then?  What’s your sign or whatever?”

Harry smirks.  “Guess.”

“Taurus.”

He shakes his head.  “Guess again.”

“Leo.”

Harry makes a face now.  “No.  God, a Leo?  Who do you think I am?”

Misty giggles. “I don’t know! I don’t know shit about astrology!”

“Obviously.”  Harry snorts.  “I’m an Aquarius.”

“Is that good?”

“It’s the best.”

“Great.”

Harry giggles, letting the conversation naturally fizzle out before starting his next sentence.  “Misty?”

It’s the first time she’s heard him say her name to her face, not just in her ear late at night while she’s trying to sleep, and it fills her with butterflies yet again.  “Hm?”

“I’m glad you’re not, like, scared of me.  Really glad.”

Misty giggles.  “I am, too, honestly.”

“Even though you were scared in the beginning.”

Misty’s smile turns into a scowl, but there is still a playfulness in her eyes and in her tone that makes Harry laugh.  “I wasn’t. I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”  Harry scoots the tiniest bit closer to Misty and nods at her book.  “So.  Tell me what’s going on in your book.”

-----

Harry just might be the most annoying person-- or rather, entity-- that Misty has ever come across in her entire life.

And she can’t get enough of him.

They’d spent a good portion of their days together throughout the past week, with Harry lingering around longer and longer each day.  Misty didn’t mind, of course, and she welcomed his company.  By the fourth day of spending time together, they were chatting as if they were the best of friends.  Misty had learned about Harry’s life prior to coming to this school, about his mom and his sister and how he checked in on them via their dreams whenever he could. She learned about what he’d been studying prior to his death, and what he wanted to do with that degree.  And Harry answered each and every one of her questions with patience (and usually a snarky remark), which Misty loved.

In turn, Harry had learned much of the same information about Misty’s life, and he found her fascinating.  He asked her just as many questions as she asked him, and whenever she called for him, he showed up.  He loved it every time.

He’d manifested in the kitchen this morning as she was pouring herself a cup of coffee, and he’d followed her around like a child while she tried to find something decent for breakfast.  She hadn’t acknowledged him much, for fear of any of the other girls noticing, but she did manage to sneak him a few sleepy grins that he found himself melting for every time.

He’d then followed her up to her room, where he chatted with her while she crunched away at a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios.  They’d discussed her plans for the day and he’d asked her if he could stay with her (although truth be told, he didn’t really have to ask; he knew she’d say yes anyway).

It hadn’t been a very busy day by any means.  Misty had had a few errands to run (which Harry had found unbelievably boring and dipped out of, promising her he’d be waiting for her at home).  Presently, Misty finds herself sitting on her bed, laptop resting comfortably on her thighs, while she types away at a book report that she has due at midnight.

Harry had offered her his help, which she’d taken him up on, but Misty soon came to find out that the word ‘help’ in his case was used very loosely.  Harry had elected instead to continuously chat and distract Misty, and each distraction was met with a protest from her… as well as her deepest insight on whatever topic Harry had decided to bring up.  Truth be told, Misty welcomed the distraction.  She loved picking his brain, and he hers.

Currently, Misty types away mindlessly, while Harry sits quietly at the foot of her bed flipping through one of Misty’s old yearbooks.  Every now and again he’ll marvel at something in the yearbook, or he’ll tease Misty about her braces or tell her she looked cute during spirit week.  “‘Nerd Day’ huh?  Suits you.”  

After Harry has been particularly quiet for a while, however, Misty starts to get suspicious.  

She glances up from her work to find Harry staring at her, a mischievous grin that she hates to love tugging at his cheeks.  

“What?” she says, subconsciously squirming under his gaze.

He only blinks, hardly bothering to look away or wipe the smirk from his face.  “Sorry.  Just thinking.”

“About?”

“Don’t know if I should say…”

This makes Misty’s cheeks grow hot, though she tries her hardest to cover it up.  “Harry don’t be an idiot.”

Harry chuckles, using his finger to mark the page of Misty’s yearbook that he’s currently on.  “It’s nothing bad,” he says casually.  “It’s fine.”

“Then stop staring at me,” Misty says with a smile.  “Creep.  If you have something to say then say it.”

Harry grins, reaching down to wiggle his fingers against the underside of her foot.  “I do, actually.  I have an idea.”

Misty lowers her laptop screen just a tad so she can see him better before speaking.  “What kind of idea?”  

The smile on her face and the narrowing of her eyes tells Harry that she’s in before she even knows his idea, and he has to contain his giggles as he speaks.

“You wanna play a prank on your sisters?”  He asks.  “Just to spook them a bit.  ‘Tis the season and all that.”

“What kind of a prank?”  Misty sits up, leaning closer to Harry and lowering her voice excitedly.

“I don’t know,” Harry says, “maybe like… I could throw some stuff around.  Make a few noises.  Pretend to possess you.”

Immediately, Misty is intrigued.  She gently tosses the laptop to the side and beams.  “Shit, you think we should?”

“I do,” Harry says, a twinkle already forming in his eye.  “Obviously we’ll have to work out the details, but yeah.  Something like that.”

“Pretend to possess me,” Misty says, “do it.”

Harry raises his eyebrows.  “Someone’s a bit eager, aren’t they?”

Misty rolls her eyes, but the embarrassed little smirk on her lips doesn’t go unnoticed by Harry.  “Not like that,” she says, then tacks on a mumbled and affectionate “stupid.”

“Not like what?”  Harry wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, purposely making Misty squirm.  She laughs and tosses a pillow at his face.

“Nevermind,” she says through a grin, “I don’t even want to do this anymore.”

“Liar,” Harry says.

“Brat,” Misty replies.

Harry’s eyes twinkle.  “I take it that you’re in, then.”

“I guess,” Misty says. “Don’t look so smug.”

“You’re cute when you’re annoyed with me,” Harry says casually, and it takes Misty a moment to even register what he’s said.

Misty feels the heat rising in her cheeks at his words, and as flustered as he’s made her, she bounces back quickly.  “I must be adorable all the time then.”

Harry shrugs.  “You said it, not me.”

“Anyway,” Misty says, desperately trying to change the subject to cover up how giddy he’s making her,  “what did you actually have in mind?”

Harry smirks.  “How good are your acting skills?”

---

Coincidentally, tonight is movie night among a few of the girls and their boyfriends. Which,  Misty and Harry had quickly realized, was the perfect setting to execute their plan.

It’s 8:30pm, and Misty is sitting on the couch under a blanket, snuggled between a few other sisters.  There are sisters scattered around the entire living room, some cuddled up with their respective partners and some without. Everyone has alcohol of some sort; Misty herself is about a glass and a half of wine in, and she’s actively trying to ignore the thoughts about how badly she wishes Harry were sitting beside her on the couch.

Especially since she’s the only one who can see him right now, sitting so casually in the corner of the room, eyes glued to the screen like everyone else’s, and looking so, so handsome.

If Misty didn’t know any better she would think he was just another one of the guys, and for a moment she allows herself to indulge in the make-believe world in which Harry is her boyfriend who has come over to join the girls for movie night.  In her mind, he’s just gotten up to get Misty a bottle of water, but got so interested in the film that he ended up just sitting down to finish the scene.

It’s selfish, Misty knows.  But seeing him like this, so casually cute, makes her heart hurt.  Obviously she’s got things way easier than Harry, considering she is the only one between them with a beating heart.  But she has to wonder if it gets lonely in his world.  He can only visit his loved ones through dreams.  He can only show himself for a month out of the year.  Even now, he sits alone in the corner of the room, far from everyone else.

He had joked about it earlier, saying the reason he sat so far away from everyone was because the spot he was in gave him the best seat of the house every time.  However, a few moments later he’d admitted that the actual reason was because he didn’t want to make anyone cold and ruin the fun.  He’d given her a soft smile and brushed that statement off with yet another joke, but it had broken Misty’s heart.

As if sensing her thoughts, Harry turns just in time to catch Misty staring at him, and he grins immediately.  

“Stop staring at me, creep.” He winks at her.

For a full five seconds, Misty is terrified that Harry’s just blown his own cover.  She tenses up, glancing around the room in shock just waiting for someone to say something about hearing a voice.  When she realizes, with confusion, that not a single person has moved, Harry speaks again.

“Don’t worry, they can’t hear me.  Only you.”

Misty glances back at Harry, wanting to say something back but knowing she can’t, and he grins.  “God, I bet it’s killing you, not being able to talk back to me.  I could have some fun with this.”

When Misty shoots a subtle glare in Harry’s direction, he gasps.  “If looks could kill,” he says, shaking his head.

Misty wants to laugh and throw something at him and fight back but she knows she can’t, and he’s right, it is killing her.   She cracks her neck gently from side to side, in an attempt to relax herself, and Harry laughs.

“Alright, I’ll have mercy.  Are you ready to get started?  Or are you super into the movie?”

Misty’s face goes into a completely deadpan expression as she glances at Harry, as if to say “really?”  How on earth is she supposed to answer that?

“Oh,” Harry chuckles.  “Uh, blink once if you want me to start.”

Misty blinks as subtly as she can while still trying to make her answer clear to Harry.  He beams.

“Blink once if you think I’m hot.”

This time, Misty can’t control herself.  She lets out an exasperated sigh that does, unfortunately, catch the attention of a few of her friends.

“You good?”  The girl sitting beside her on the couch-- Kennedy-- laughs.  

Before Misty even has time to respond, however, Harry swoops in and saves the day. He knocks hard, twice, on the wooden floor, and every head in the room turns.

There is an intense shift of energy once everyone realizes that there is nothing that could have possibly made that noise.  

“Uhhh…???”  Another sister, Rosie, speaks up, curling even further into her boyfriend.

“What the fuck was that dude?”  Greg, one of the most unbearably fratty boys Misty has ever known, sits up.

And there sits Harry, smirking in the corner, obviously pleased with his work.

Misty realizes quickly that she can’t blow her own cover, so her face changes to one of apprehension and terror, mirroring everyone else’s.  “Uhh… everyone heard that, right?”

“That was like, distinct!” Rosie says.  “Like two deliberate knocks.”

All at once everyone starts talking over one another.

“What the fuck, dude--”

“Was it over in that corner?”

“Go check it out--”

“No you go check it out!”

“Was it one knock or two?”

“You guys, what the fuck was that?’

Misty glances at Harry, who is staring back at her expectantly, as if to ask if it’s okay if he makes the next move.  Misty gives him a subtle nod, and Harry rises to his feet.  

He walks gently along the wooden floor, making sure to get as close as possible to the people sitting scattered along it.  He wants them to feel his presence, and each person has a different reaction.  

It’s Luca, Rosie’s boyfriend, who says something first.  “Wait, I’m not even kidding you, I’m cold as shit right now.”

Harry grins down at Luca, shooting Misty a wink.  “Uh ohhhh,” Harry says softly. He reaches down to lightly tickle his fingers against the back of Luca’s neck, and Luca instantly shoots up onto his feet.

“Swear to GOD dude, something just fucking touched me!”

Rosie shoots to her feet as well, taking a step away from Luca.  “Luca you better not be fucking around--”

“Why would I fuck around about that shit?” he asks, voice raising.

“Guys there has to be a logical explanation for this.”  Kennedy speaks up, reaching for her drink on the table.  “Like, it’s getting colder outside.  Maybe there was a draft.”

Rosie sniffs the air a few times, then swallows.  Misty has never seen anyone look so worried before in her life, and it makes her want to laugh.  “Guys, I smell cinnamon.”

“Oops,” Harry says, turning to Misty.  “Might’ve gotten a bit too close there.”

In an instant, Harry is out of Misty’s sight.  But he manifests again in the back corner of the room and steps on a particularly creaky floor board, causing everyone’s heads to turn.

Harry observes the shocked looks on all of their faces, then gives Misty a shit eating grin.  “I do that a lot, actually,” he says.

As if backing up his words, another sister, Angie, speaks up.  “That’s the noise!” she says.  “Lindsey and I were in here the other night and we heard it!”

“I’ve heard it too,” Kennedy says.  “It happens like, all the time.”

“So you’re just like, not even scared?” Rosie asks, panic in her voice now.  “You’re like, completely fine with it?   Like it’s normal to you?”

“Misty.”  Harry’s voice is now right in Misty’s ear, and it makes her jump.  She can feel his cold presence against her skin, and his all too delicious spicy scent engulfs her.  She shivers, but turns her head as if to let him know he’s got her attention.

“You ever seen the movie Beetlejuice?”

Misty giggles and nods subtly, glad that no one in the room is really paying attention to her right now.

“Yeah?” Harry chuckles against Misty’s skin.  “Thinkin’ we could do somethin’ like that one scene.”

Misty doesn’t even have time to question what scene he’s even referring to, his coldness is gone just as quickly as it came.  She turns around again, eyes scanning the room of her panicked classmates and sisters, before she finds him in the corner of the room, messing with an iphone that’s charging.  He doesn’t pick it up, instead he just taps the screen.  Luckily, the phone is unlocked.

“It’s 2020,” he mumbles, “Who doesn’t have a bloody passcode on their phone?”

The unlocking of the phone, however, does not go unnoticed.

It’s Rosie who points it out, because of course it is.  “Guys,” she shrieks, “look at Greg’s phone!”

All eyes are on Harry-- or rather, the phone, and Harry rolls his eyes.  “Shit,” he mutters, then looks up at Misty.  “Ask them if they hear something.”

Misty wastes no time.  “Guys… holy shit do you hear that?”  

The room goes quiet, save for the movie that no one had bothered to pause.  Lindsey scrambles for the remote and quickly mutes the television, and everyone is stock still.

“I don’t hear anything,” Rosie whispers, and Misty quickly cuts her off with a sharp “Shhh!”

She glances back over at Harry, hoping he has a plan.  He doesn’t even look at her, he just continues scrolling through the phone with a concentrated frown on his face.

Greg rises to his feet and takes a cautious step towards his phone.  “What the fuck--” he mumbles.

And then Harry nods, pushes a button, and everyone jumps as the opening bars of Tainted Love fill the room via the bluetooth speakers in the corner.

A small smirk begins growing on Harry’s face as he slowly rises from his squatted position beside the phone. “Ahh,” he says slowly. “An absolute classic.”

Everyone seems to be in shock at what’s happening, so no one moves or reaches for the phone to stop the music.  Harry is beaming at Misty, and now she can’t even try to hide the smile on her face as he begins bopping towards her.  

His shoulders are grooving along with the beat, and he does a silly side step type of jig in Greg’s direction that makes Misty almost lose her composure completely.  He punches the air with each prominent beat, wiggling his hips closer to Greg.  

“Get his phone, Misty,” Harry says quietly, continuing his slow dancing movements.  “Don’t let anyone turn the song off.”

Just as Greg takes a step forward to get to his phone, Harry swoops in, taking both of Greg’s hands in his and dancing with him-- a very poor version of a ballroom dance.

Nearly everyone in the room shrieks.  “Greg this isn’t funny!” Rosie squeals.  “Knock it off!”

“I’m not fuckin’ doin’ this!” Greg calls over his shoulder, as Harry spins him around the room.

Misty seizes this opportunity and makes a beeline for the phone, glad that everyone is too preoccupied watching Greg dance with a seemingly invisible partner.  Harry, although focused on the dancing, keeps his eyes on her the entire time.  When he sees her pick up the phone and subtly slip it into the pocket of her sweat pants, he grins. “Good girl.”

Misty tries to ignore how those words make her feel.

Harry ends his dance with Greg by dramatically turning Greg away.  He glances at Misty with the most mischievous look she’s ever seen.  “Who’s next?”

He doesn’t give her time to even think of an answer, he’s already shimmying his way over to Rosie.  He stops briefly to deliberately knock a pillow off of the couch and giggles, “oops!”  when it startles the daylights out of Lindsey. Everyone in the room has begun to frantically look for the phone, including Misty-- who is just trying to play her part.  The scream that Rosie lets out when Harry grabs onto her though, is something Misty can’t even ignore.  She bursts out laughing, earning a few shocked looks from her friends..

“Help!” Rosie screams. “It’s not fucking funny Misty!”

Misty immediately tries to compose herself, forcing her face into as serious an expression as she can muster. “Sorry,” she says, “It’s just--”

“Rosie if this is a prank, I swear,” Angie cuts Misty off and lunges towards Rosie, feeling the air around her.

“It’s not!” Rosie wails. “I don’t know how I’m doing this!’

Harry twirls away from Rosie and right into the arms of Angie, who gasps as she’s led clumsily, around the room. “Oh my god!’

“Oh my god!”  Misty repeats, trying her best to seem as shocked as everyone else.  “What the fuck is happening?”

“That’s good,” Harry says over his shoulder, “But I’m gonna need more feeling from you.”

Misty lets out a horrified shriek that puts Rosie’s own shriek to shame.  “We have to find the phone!” she cries.   “We have to turn this stupid song off!”

Harry frowns now. “Hey.  Tainted Love isn’t stupid.  Watch your mouth.’

Misty ignores him as she joins in on the frantic search for the phone that she knows damn well is deep in her pocket.    Every now and then she and Harry share a knowing glance, as he switches from partner to partner.

Misty stands in the furthest corner of the room, pretending to busy herself looking for the item, when suddenly Kennedy laughs.  Misty doesn’t even bother looking up, assuming simply that Harry has switched to her.  It’s when Rosie speaks that Misty’s attention is caught.

“Kennedy what are you laughing at?!” Rosie wails, tears in her eyes.

“It’s kind of funny!”  Kennedy says, taking a sip from her drink before setting it back down.  “Like, whoever is doing this-- a ghost or a demon or like, whatever-- has a sense of humor.  They know a good classic when they hear it.”

Harry, who’s currently spinning Luca into dizzy oblivion, grins.  “Kennedy’s got the spirit!”

“It’s not funny!” Rosie cries. “How can you laugh?!”

Kennedy shrugs, already beginning a bop of her own.  “I dunno, I think it’s  funny.  I don’t think whatever’s doing this is like, evil.”

“I don’t think it is either,” Misty chimes in, although she’s brushed off by everyone’s talking.  Some people try to stop whatever force is making them dance, others are too scared to go near the dancer for fear of being next. Kennedy, however, just continues to groove on her own.

Misty reaches discreetly into her pocket to turn the music up a bit more, and Harry laughs gleefully.  “Louder!” He calls to Misty, finally releasing his hold on Luca and scanning the room for his next victim.

As Misty watches him, cheerfully prancing around the room and trying to catch Linsdey-- who’s darting around the room like a chicken with her head cut off-- she tries her hardest to ignore the twitching of her heart.  There’s no way she likes him, absolutely not.  He’s dead, for fucks sake.  But he looks so full of life, so full of happiness, and she realizes that this is probably the most fun he’s had in years.

“Misty what are you doing?” Kennedy calls.  “You’re not even looking for the phone, come dance with me!’

“Yeah Misty, come dance!” Harry adds, shimmying his way up to Kennedy and taking her hand.  

Kennedy shrieks, but she isn’t scared.  She laughs immediately, as Harry pulls out his best dance moves for her.

“Someone is fucking with us,” Angie says, “They have to be.”

“Misty, why are you just standing there?” Greg asks.  “You’re not even trying to help us!”

“Because,” Misty replies, her brain running a million miles an hour to come up with an excuse.  She’s distracted by how much fun Harry’s having, beaming at his one willing participant as he twirls her around.  She smiles.  “Because I agree with Kennedy.  Whatever kind of spirit is doing this is obviously having fun.  I think we should let him--” Misty quickly realizes what she’s said and corrects herself “-- or it, whatever it is, just keep vibing with us.  This is probably the most fun it’s had in years.”

“You’re right,” Harry calls over his shoulder as he dips Kennedy,  “It is.”

“You’re a fucking freak,” Rosie sobs, practically throwing herself into Luca’s arms.

“Misty is the only person this spirit hasn’t fucked with!”  Lindsey points out.  “She has to be up to something!”

Harry makes a face.  “That’s a good point,” he muses.   He gives Kennedy one last twirl before disappearing completely out of Misty’s sight-- only to reappear right beside her seconds later.

“Care to dance, ma’am?”

Misty lets her guard down completely and laughs as Harry takes hold of her.  For a moment, she seems to forget all the eyes in the room.  She forgets that she is the only one who can see Harry.  Kennedy cheers her on as Harry moves her body-- far more dramatically than he’d moved anyone else’s.

“Miss Misty!” Harry says, making a face as if he’s beyond impressed with her moves.  “You can dance!” He dips her aggressively and she squeals, reaching up to hold onto him for stability.

Kennedy starts to jokingly dance around with the other sisters, but Misty hardly notices because she’s so distracted by the silly faces Harry’s pulling as he flings her around. He goes to dip her again, nearly bashing her head accidentally on a lamp. “Whoops,” he says through a giggle.

Misty laughs so hard she snorts, and Harry brings her upright again with the biggest smile on his face. “Never heard you laugh this hard before,” he muses, “it’s cute.”

Instantly, Misty’s cheeks grow hot, and her insides twist as hard as Harry’s spinning her.  As if sensing how flustered she is, Harry laughs, reaching down to pinch playfully at her side.

“I know it’s killing you,” he mumbles. “It’s kinda killing me, too.” Harry lifts Misty off the ground, spinning her around ungracefully and making her shriek  “Although I know if you could talk to me, you’d probably yell at me.  Or make some smartass remark.” Harry spins Misty out, then in, his face now unbearably close to hers.  He grins.  “So I am liking this a bit.”

Misty catches herself staring at Harry’s lips, and she subconsciously licks her own.  She wants to say something so bad, and she knows he’s teasing her because he can.  She hears Kennedy’s laughter mixed with another (maybe Angie’s?), and she sees the commotion occuring around her in the room, but it doesn’t feel real.  The only thing she can focus on is Harry, and his scent, and the icy feeling of his breath against her skin.  

Maybe everyone is too distracted, and she can lean in and kiss him.  Can she kiss a ghost?  Obviously she’s never tried before but he’s so close, he’s right in front of her… surely--

Misty’s thoughts are interrupted with the sudden sound of silence.  She turns quickly, completely broken from her trance with Harry, to see Luca holding the wireless speaker in his hand, one thumb on the power button, mouth wide open in fear.

After a few more beats, Luca speaks. “Does anyone still feel anything?”

Misty turns to find that Harry is gone, completely out of her sight, and she tries to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach.

“It’s gone,” Rosie says. “I think it’s gone. No one is moving anymore.”

Misty scans the room, trying to find Harry somewhere blending into his surroundings, but much to her dismay she finds him nowhere.

Greg slaps Luca’s arm dramatically before taking a step into the middle of the room.  “Bro, what happened?”

“What the fuck was that?!”  Rosie’s mascara is running slightly down her face, but her voice is at a much lower and less panicked level than before.  “What the fuck just happened?”

“That was fucked,” Luca says, moving closer to Rosie.  “Like, fucked.”

Misty tries her hardest to play her part, trying to act as shocked as everyone else, but she can’t stop her hand from flying to the cold spot on her chin-- where she’d felt Harry’s own mouth brush. She can’t stop herself from thinking about his words, wondering how lovely it would’ve felt to kiss him.

“And Kennedy and Misty didn’t do shit to try and fix it!” Rosie cries, reaching up to wipe at her now completely wet eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Kennedy says,  “What should we have done?  Begged nicely for this invisible fucking force to leave us alone?  I’m sure it would’ve totally listened to us.”  She chuckles almost bitterly, reaching for her abandoned drink on the table.  “You guys don’t know how to have fun,” she finishes, punctuating her sentence by chugging the rest of her beverage, “And it shows.”

The evening is cut short and it passes by quickly and in a blur, with everyone checking around the room multiple times for whatever the source of the music was-- to no luck.   At some point, Misty discards the phone subtly onto the couch for Greg to find.  Everyone around the room discusses their perspective of what had occurred, and Misty tries her best to participate-- although she is mostly spoken over by a crying Rosie and an overly anxious Linsdey.  

It takes nearly an hour for Misty to find herself in her own room, after reassuring her nervous sisters that they would be fine sleeping in their rooms alone.  She’s tried her hardest to brush Harry’s words about her laugh off, to stop thinking about them, and about him in general but she can’t.  As she slips out of her clothes and into her pajamas, she finds herself thinking deeply about his smile.

Misty hears the most gentle knock on her door, pulling her from her thoughts.  She finishes pulling her pajama t-shirt over her head before calling out a soft, “Come in.”

Harry manifests himself in her room without even opening the door, and Misty jumps when she sees him in the corner by her dresser.  She rolls her eyes as she speaks.  “You didn’t even need to knock.”

“I didn’t want to interrupt,” Harry states, a smirk on his lips.  “I didn’t know if you were changing.”

“You’re fine,” Misty says, plopping onto her bed.  “I mean, I was changing, but like, you’re a ghost. You can walk through walls.”

“I am,” Harry says, “and I can.  But I’m still respectful.  What kind of a ghost do you take me for?”

Misty giggles, tossing a pillow at Harry.   He dodges it-- not that he needs to-- and he snorts.

“Anyway, I just came in to say goodnight,” he says, his smile still wide on his face.  “And to make sure I didn’t like… overstep tonight.”

Misty smiles back, ungracefully untucking the covers beneath her. “You didn’t overstep,” she says. “And anyway--” she doesn’t dare look at him as she continues her words,  “I liked it.”

“Did you?”  Harry seems completely unfazed, and Misty can hear the smirk on his face.  It’s infuriatingly sexy.

“I did,” Misty says, finally turning to face him.  She rolls her eyes when Harry is, of course, nowhere to be found, but she’s not even worried about it.  She knows he’s still here.  Her confidence grows in his absence.  “I liked it a lot.”

“Did you?”  He asks again, his voice lower and coming from behind her now.  He’s close enough that he sends shivers down her spine, which don’t go unnoticed by him. He laughs.  

She turns around to catch his smile as he sits directly behind her on her bed, close enough that she can feel the crisp chill of his skin.

“Yes,” she says quietly,  “I did.  Told you I did.”

Once again, Misty feels hypnotized by his beautiful face.  Harry knows this, and he hesitantly raises his hand to trail along her arm.  She shivers again.  Without meaning to, she leans into him.  His smile tells her she’s not alone in the way she’s feeling right now.

“That’s good to hear,” Harry says, voice barely above a whisper.  

Misty lifts her head, lips ghosting along the icy feel of his chin.  “Did you?” she breathes.

“Did I what, sunshine?”  Harry’s mouth seems to follow Misty’s own without kissing her, and it absolutely drives her crazy.

Misty gulps, gathering as much courage as she can muster.  “Did you like it?”

With a cheeky grin, Harry removes his hand from Misty’s arm-- much to her dismay.  She is knocked back to reality just as quickly as she’d left it, but his words make her insides flutter.  “I fucking loved it.”

Misty giggles nervously, deciding to change the subject.  “Everyone’s going to think I’m fucking crazy from here on out.”

Harry snorts.  “No they won’t.  They’ll forget.  They’ll continue to think it was a weird occurrence, but they’ll forget that you were one of the only ones who didn’t.”

Misty frowns, jokingly.  “So I’m forgettable then?’

Harry rolls his eyes, his smile deepening wider.  “Hardly.”

Now Misty beams, ignoring the twisting in her stomach. “In all seriousness,” she replies, “You’re right.  It was a weird night.  I doubt my quick compliance to you was very memorable to them.”

“I liked your compliance.”  

Harry says these words so softly that Misty has to look at him twice to make sure she’s even heard him correctly.  He’s no longer looking at her, but the smile on his face makes Misty’s insides go weak, and she notices her own breath hitching in her throat.

“I--” she begins, not knowing where to even begin with a response to him.  “I liked--”

“You don’t have to say anything about it,” Harry says. “You don’t have to say anything at all.”  He smiles sheepishly at her after a moment. “I just want to tell you that you were right.  That was the most fun I’ve had in years.  And I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You don’t have to!” Misty adjusts herself on the bed so she’s facing Harry more.  “I had so much fun.  You deserved it.  And honestly--”

Mist trails off, licking her lips and preparing herself for what she’s about to say,

“I liked being the only one who could see you.  And hear you.”  Her voice grows quieter. “I liked you… Telling me what to do.”

Harry’s smirk deepens as he leans closer into Misty once again.  His lips look so delicious, so inviting, Misty isn’t even sure what she’s looking at anymore.

Moments pass, with Harry and Misty both so close to one another that it’s overwhelming.  Misty wants to kiss him more than anything else in her entire life, but she’s scared, and she pretends she doesn’t notice the way he melts when she sighs against his skin.

“Harry,” she breathes slowly, “I don’t know if it’s possible… but I--”

Harry stands suddenly, catching Misty off guard.  “You should go to bed,” he says, quickly but sadly. “I’m so sorry,  I don’t mean to cut off the--”

“No you’re right,”  Misty says, suddenly feeling completely self-conscious.  She retracts into herself, crossing her arms along her lower body.  “You’re right.  I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for!”

“No, I know!” she lies.  “But I… you know, I mean, it’s weird!”

“It’s not weird,” Harry insists.  “Misty--”

“I have to go to bed,” she says, scrambling ungracefully to get under the covers. “It’s time.”

Harry looks at her for a few more moments before blowing all of his air out in a loud puff.  “It’s time,” he repeats.  He steps cautiously towards her, then softens himself as he reaches for her hand.

Misty eyes his movements, then smiles as she gently takes his hand in her own.  

There are a few more moments of charged silence, before Misty speaks

“Don’t end tonight on a weird note,” Misty jokes, smiling up at Harry.  “I had so much fun with you.”

Harry gives her hand a squeeze.  “I did too, sunshine.  Promise.”

“And you’ll come back tomorrow?’  Misty asks.  “And it won’t be weird?”

“Why would it be weird?”  Harry laughs, and Misty, once again, grows flustered.

“I don’t know!” she whines.  “I just feel weird!”

“Don’t feel weird,” Harry says, leaning forward.  He kisses her head without thinking about it, and he ignores the slight shiver of her body when he does so.  “Promise it’s not weird.’

She smiles up at him.  “I liked tonight,” she says, for what feels like the hundredth time.

“I did too,” Harry reassures her, fighting the urge to bring her hand to his lips so he can kiss it.  “So fucking much.”

Misty stares at him for just a tick too long, then smiles to herself-- clearly happy with their conversation.  She snuggles down under the covers and Harry, without hesitation, pulls them up further to tuck her in.

“You didn’t promise me you’d come tomorrow,” she says softly, her eyes fluttering closed.

Harry reaches across her and flicks off her lamp, allowing his eyes to focus in the darkness before speaking.  “Of course I’ll come tomorrow,” he says.  “I’ve come every other day, haven’t I?”

“I just hate the idea of waking up and you not being here, you know?”  Misty opens her eyes, blinking softly up at Harry.  ‘I want to have you while I still can.”

Something about Misty’s words breaks Harry’s heart, and he leans in impossibly closer to her.  ‘You may have me whenever you like, pretty girl.  I will be here whenever you call.”

“Promise?”

Harry can feel tears welling in his eyes and he absolutely hates it.  He tries desperately to blink them away.  “Promise.”

“Good.”  Misty settles herself further under the covers with a content sigh.

“Get some sleep,” Harry mumbles, reaching up to wipe at his eyes as subtly as he can.  God, he wishes he were human.  More than anything in the world, he wishes he could give Misty the love she deserves-- fully.

“Okay,” Misty sighs.  “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah.”  Harry nods.  “Tomorrow.”

Misty smiles.  “Goodnight.  Don’t watch me sleep, weird ass.”

Harry snorts at her words.  Of course she’d end the night on that note.  With a gentle “goodnight,”  He rises to his feet and takes a few steps away from her bed, just so that she can’t detect his presence by his scent. He makes himself invisible to her while still watching her for at least another full two minutes.

The way he’s truly starting to fall for this girl is completely alarming, especially considering their circumstances.  If he’d still had a beating heart, it would be breaking, and he hates the isolated yet heavy feeling in his chest as he watches her drift gently into unconsciousness.  He wants her, plain and simple.  

And as Misty’s thoughts turn into dreams, she can’t seem to get the ghostly boy out of her mind.   She wants him, just  as badly as he wants her.  It’s something she fears she’ll never tell him, for obvious reasons, but she still allows herself to indulge in the visions of them experiencing a somewhat normal relationship together as she drifts into sleep.

And as the moon rises over the old, creaky house, both Harry and Misty find themselves imagining, if only for the night, that they can love one another the way they know they were meant to.   Surely it won’t be enough to sustain their longing for one another.  But for tonight,  Harry knows that he’ll subtly pop into Misty’s dream.   And he knows Misty will never mention it to him, but it will sustain them both for the time being.  It will make them both happy.

And Misty’s happiness, Harry thinks, is the most important thing of all.

[wrestlingbabe]

Both.

Mako/Iroh/Female Reader- Iroh comes to stay with you and Mako. With time, something starts to grow.

 Warnings:smut and more smut, threesome, spit?, dom!mako, dom!iroh, its freaky

Notes: I don’t know why i made this. It feels like it would never actually happen but a girl can always hope. Also everyone is of age! 

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“You’re coming to stay?” You almost busted through the door of your apartment that you shared with Mako. You two worked for Lin after the whole avatar stuff died down and you thought living together would help with expenses, and it did. There are other perks as well such as, Mako making you coffee every morning and when your shift is done. Sometimes when you're super tired, he will drive you home! Now here you were standing in between your roommate and General Iroh.

 Mako was the one who introduced you to Iroh and the three of you hit it off right away. The chemistry between you three was through the roof and most people mistaken you for dating one of them. If only, you would think to yourself anytime someone made a comment. The three of you were fire benders and Mako and Iroh were extremely talented which helped out with practicing. Iroh had said a few months ago that he would be in Republic City for a few days but now out your door, he was talking about a few weeks.

 “This is so exciting!” You tried not to squeal with excitement but you couldn’t help yourself. You elbowed Iroh in the chest softly as Mako handed you one of Iroh’s bags, “Who are you going to bunk with?” You raised an eyebrow making the older man laugh.

 “I hadn’t really thought that far. When I talked to Mako yesterday we really just came up with the idea of me coming here.” Iroh gave you a quick smile has the three of you walked through the door. 

 “You’re planning things without me?” You looked at Mako with a confused expression making him chuckle.

 “Every time I try to include you, you tell me that you don’t care. So this one time I decide something without you, you have a problem?” Mako’s tone making you roll your eyes.

 “I do care!” You turned to Iroh with a toothy grin, “I care about you.” Both Mako and Iroh were laughing this time, making your face go hot.

 Mako draped his arm around Iroh’s shoulder, “You can bunk with me, I have a couch in the room that is all yours.”

 Iroh smiled at you both and ran his fingers through his hair “Thank you both so much for this! I’m so excited to be back at Republic City and with my two favorite fire benders.” 

 Soon the days turned to weeks and it sounded like Iroh would be staying longer, “I don’t know, I really like it here.” Iroh smiled at you and Mako as you both nodded your head to what he was saying.

 That night the boys went to bed earlier than you. You had been sitting in your room reading before they both poked their heads in to say goodnight. You smiled at them before returning to your book. After a few minutes, you had decided to go out to the living room area to read. You quietly walked over to the couch before grabbing a blanket and getting cozy.

 You could hear the boys moving around and getting comfortable but you didn’t know you would also be able to hear them. You heard one of them cough before you heard Iroh say something let left you confused, “Do you feel the same way I do on this?” You got curious and moved to the other side of the couch to hear them more. You didn’t mean to listen in but you couldn’t help yourself.

 “Yeah, I mean she is beautiful and sure I’ve had my nights of thinking about her.” Mako’s confession made butterflies gather in your stomach, “What about you? I don’t mind if you feel the same way.” You were now sitting on the edge of your seat waiting for Iroh’s response.

“Oh, well, yeah I feel the same way. She’s everything.” Iroh’s voice getting a little quieter before all but whispering, “Do you think she would want to get with us?”

 You gasped a little before hearing Mako cough a little as if he choked on something, “I- I don’t know. That sounds good though.” Your face was hot from all that talk but for some reason you don’t feel blind sided by their confessions. 

 You started noticing things changing about a week after Iroh showed up at your apartment. Iroh was a little handsy and it started to rub off on Mako because he too started to become more touchy. You didn’t mind it because all you have ever wanted was for the two of them to touch you. You couldn’t lie and say you didn’t fantasize about them all the time. They are gorgeous and your mind is always thinking about their muscular torsos and their smirks that always makes you weak in the knees. So after hearing everything you just heard, you weren’t really surprised and to answer their question, yes you were so interested.

 After a few minutes you didn’t hear anything, so you went into your room and went to bed. You knew what you were going to do tomorrow.

 Every day was kind of the same. You would wake up to one of them cooking breakfast which allowed you to sleep in some. You would help out where you could but most of the time they had it under control. Today though, you woke up before both of them and ran to the kitchen to start cooking. Ten to fifteen minutes later, a shirtless Mako came out of his room with Iroh behind him pulling on a shirt. You could feel your mouth open a little at the bare skin both of them showed even if it was for a few seconds. You quickly turned back to the food to ease your wondering mind, “Oh spirits.” You mumbled under your breath.

 “Good morning.” Iroh mumbled as he reached for the coffee cup beside you before sitting on the counter space next to you. You could practically feel the heat radiating off of him, “Do you have any sugar to put in here?” You nodded your head before reaching above you on your tippy toes. You knew your shorts had ridden up some and were aware of how much you were showing. 

 For a moment, you thought you heard Mako groan from behind you. As you gave Iroh the sugar, you turned to Mako, “Are you okay?” His face went red making you raise an eyebrow with curiosity.

 “Yeah! Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Mako response made Iroh chuckle, “I’m fine I promise.” 

 “Sure.” You turned towards the food and brought it out to the table, “This is the time to do something.” You thought to yourself as Mako sat down beside you and Iroh across from you. You gave them both a playful smirk before pouring yourself something to drink.

 “Did you sleep well last night?” Mako asked as he started to shove food into his mouth.

 You could feel your face heating up but tried your best not to show anything. You glanced over at Iroh who was looking down at the paper and thought this was the moment to do it, “I slept fine.” Your hand came down to rest on Mako’s inner thigh, “What about you?”

 His face said it all and before he could open his mouth to say anything, you moved your foot up against Iroh’s calf before slowly bringing it up to rest between his thighs, careful not to touch anything just yet. Iroh’s eyes shot up to meet yours before looking down at your hand and where it was.

 “Though I have to be honest.” You could feel just how excited Mako was when you moved your hand higher. You smirked a little before continuing, “Once you said goodnight, I went out to read in the living room and I might of heard what you said.”  Mako made a small groan and you went to giggle but you suddenly felt Iroh’s wrist wrap around your ankle, pulling it closer until you felt how hard he was, “Oh.” You weren’t exactly prepared for this even though you planned for it, you still felt like you were at a lost now.

 “So were you just going to play little games with us or were you going to do something about it?” Iroh’s tone made you bite your lip a little. You turned to look at Mako, practically begging for him to do something, anything.

 “Do you want to?” Mako asked as he brought his hand to yours.

 You could always count on him to be a gentleman but you knew what you wanted and you nodded your head with a small plea, “please.” That was all it really took. Mako leaned forward and crushed his lips against yours making you moan into it. You could feel Iroh get up but you didn’t know where he was until you felt him behind you. You moved away from Mako and stood up before turning and pulling Iroh against you, your lips moving against his with ease.

 You felt like your body was exploding like fireworks. Everything making your senses more aware of the other person involved. Mako pulled at your shirt as your broke away from Iroh, tugging it over your head. Both men let out a groan as they saw you had nothing underneath. You started to get a little hot from their stares so you reached forward and pushed Iroh’s shirt up, trying to get him to take it off.

 “I’ll get it!” Iroh said with a chuckle at your neediness. You went to protest his chuckle, but a long moan dropped from your mouth as Mako wrapped his lips around one of your nipples. His hand slithered up your body before gently palming your other breast.

 “Oh fuck.” Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling but quickly opened when you felt a pair of hands grabbed your chin.

 “Watch the language.” Iroh said before kissing your lips quickly and pulling away. You couldn’t believe it. He was around his soldiers all the time and you knew they spoke worse than you, so now you had to behave. You had to see where this could get you.

 “No.” You said as you felt a sharp pain run through your chest, “Ow!” Mako gently bit at your nipple to the response you gave before pulling back and looking at Iroh.

 Iroh smirked at Mako before looking back at you, “Mako, do you have anything to say?”

 Mako looked over your body quickly before raising an eyebrow, “Behave.”

 Oh! The word made your world stop for a moment. This is exactly what you wanted, “Make me.” You all but purred the words before you felt Iroh step behind you and deliver a quick slap to your ass. You were wet, soaking wet. You wanted them to move faster, to do anything at this point. So you took matters into your own hands, and sank down onto your knees. You tilted your head up at the boys before gently pulling at Mako’s pants, “If my mouth is what is getting me into trouble, maybe it should be filled with something.” It was your turn to smile when both of the men groaned at your words.

 You quickly got to work with pulling Mako’s pants down. As he pushed them further down, he bent down and brought his lips to yours making butterflies erupt in your stomach. He pulled away with another quick peck before gently grabbing your chin and directing you towards Iroh, who at this time was standing before you with nothing on. You were practically drooling and you wanted him now. Iroh walked to you and placed his hands on the side of your face, as you brought his tip to your mouth. You gave it a few kitten licks before you felt him barely jerk his hips forward. You glanced up at him as you wrapped your lips around him and took as much as you could, making the older man drop his head back with a moan. You slowly pulled off of him with a pop and looked for Mako, who was now slowly palming himself.

 “Oh.” You hoped that you would have that memory in your mind forever, “Let me help.” You beckoned him over and when he was close enough, you ran your tongue along his shaft before taking him just like you did with Iroh. You kept going, your head bobbing up and down. You threw one of your hands out trying to find Iroh, and when your hand landed on his thigh, you ran your hand up resting it on his cock. You slowly started to move your hand, twisting it when you got to the top. 

 You switched from Mako and brought your lips back to Iroh’s who at this time, was moaning your name. You let a little spit land on his tip before getting up and sitting on the table. You laid back against your elbows before spreading your legs. Iroh glanced at you before bringing his tip to your entrance, “Are you ready?” He asked even though you were sure he already knew the answer. You were a mess right now, lips swollen and you were past the point of being wet, you were dripping. You nodded you head and he slowly sank into you.

 You let out a whine as he stretched you out, “Oh fu-spiritis.” You almost said it again but you were actually worried he would stop as if it was some punishment. You locked eyes with him as he bottomed out and gradually pulled out of you. Each thrust in was like the first. He was big and you had a feeling you might feel it tomorrow. You looked past Iroh to see Mako sitting in a chair, his length in his hand as he slowly pumped it. You could see his breath catch every time you let out a moan or whine. He was just as turned on as you, “Mako, come here.”

 “This view is so good though, seeing your sprawled out on the table is so sexy!” Mako bit his lip as he watched you grabbed both of your breast that were bouncing with each thrust from Iroh, “Fuck, I want those!” Mako got up from the chair and walked towards you. 

 Iroh looked at him and pulled out, “That isn’t a bad idea.” Mako chuckled as you got back onto your knees. Mako bent down some before spitting on his palm and rubbing it across his tip. You grabbed both of your breast, bringing them together as Mako’s cock rubbed between them. His head fell back with a low growl as he quickened the pace. Iroh brought his cock towards your mouth. You took it with pleasure and moaned at the taste of yourself. You were getting squirmy though, you were uncomfortably wet and you want some type of release and it was as if Mako knew what you were thinking.

 “Here, stand up and bend over the table.” Mako pulled away and smirked at your shocked face. You would of never thought you would hear those words come out of his mouth. You turned and pressed your chest against the table. The cold table making your nipples peak. You had no time to adjust as Mako quickly thrust into you, hitting your spot at that angle.

 “Oh Mako! Oh fuck!” You went to cover your mouth as you saw Iroh shaking his head, “I’m sorry.”

 “Open your mouth.” Iroh was now on the other side of the table, with his length right at your mouth. You did as you were told and opened your mouth. You didn't have to do a lot of moving for every time Mako thrusted forward you took more of Iroh in your mouth. You were moaning with pure pleasure. This is something you have always wanted and you could feel yourself getting tighter.

 “Oh Mako! I’m going to cum. Im-I’m cumming.” Your eyes fluttered shut as your wrapped tight around him. You could feel his hips stuttered and his moans became more whiny as he pulled out and came on your back. You glanced up at Iroh who had now pulled away from you and was pumping himself, “On my face? I want it so badly Iroh. Please put it on my face!”

 Iroh was wrecked. You begging for it was what sent him over. You closed your eyes as you felt the warmth hit your face. His moans echoing off the quiet room.  You tried to catch your breath as you heard both men huffing around you. You slowly opened your eyes to see Iroh smiling at you.

 You could feel your face get hot as you realized what just happened and what you were covered in. You reached around the table before finding someones shirt and wiping your face off, “So, that happened.” You were feeling slightly exposed so you grabbed one of the blankets off the couch and sat down next to Mako who dropped his head onto your shoulder, “It was fun though!” Both men chuckled at you as Iroh moved to sit on the other side of you.

 “We could do it again later if you want?” Mako mumbled into your shoulder. You hummed in agreement before turning to Iroh who was nodding his head and smiling at you.

 “With both or alone? I wouldn’t mind having each of you to myself.” 

[eternally-roses]

Slytherpuff #3

Huff usually was the last of her friends to wake up every morning, probably cause the common room was too cozy. But today, her mind was too excited to sleep. It was Slytherin’s birthday! And to her, birthdays were special occasions, hand tailored for a special person, who can be the star for the entire day. And she had everything planned and ready for her best friends birthday. 

Not that she went over planning just cause she had a crush on Slytherin….pft! Definitely not. 

“Guys, pay attention! Everyone ready with Sly’s gifts?” She announced. 

“Yep! Packed and ready,” Ravenclaw replied, all neat and clean, the first one to wake up. 

“hfhodhdiwkoghiewu,” Gryffindor replied groggily. 

Ravenclaw chuckled, “What was that dear?”

Gryffindor yawned, “Its in my dorm, just need to pack it and give it to the rattle trap.” 

Hufflepuff gasped, “Gryff! Sly’s not a rattle trap!” 

Ravenclaw smirked, “Is that because you like him?” 

Her cheeks felt hot, she quickly shook her head, “What?! No! Anyways, lets get going with the plan.” 

Soon, they all met up at the great hall, waiting for their friend to walk into the hall. 

Slytherin walked in after a few minutes and the party began. They fed him with a lovely breakfast, and each showed them their gifts. 

Lastly Huff gave his present, the anxiety running through her mind was too overwhelming. She wanted Slytherin to know that she cared about him a lot, maybe more than just friends. 

Slytherin turned to Huff, “What’s this?” He asked curiously, his eyes were a much brighter shade of green, and his cheeks were evidently pink. 

Hufflepuff tried her best to not stutter, “W-well, open it and see silly!” 

Slytherin chuckled and gently removed the neatly covered present. He rarely got presents, and he wanted to savor the moment. He never felt more happy. 

He removed the sliver wrapping paper to reveal a black box. It was a bit heavy. 

He removed the lid slowly, and a smile erupted on his face. 

It was a camera. And with it was a note, 

‘For a friend who deserves the world, here’s a way to capture special moments of your life.’

Love, 

Hufflepuff 💛

He stared at it for a few seconds. Huff was getting worried, what if he hated it?

Ravenclaw came to the rescue, “Well, what do you think about it Sly?” She asked, nudging Slytherin. 

Hufflepuff’s hands were fiddling with her yellow sunflower sweater, a habit she showed when she was nervous, she looked at the ground, ready for whatever reaction she got. 

Suddenly, big strong arms enveloped her into a huge hug. She breath caught in her throat, when she looked up to see who was hugging her. 

Slytherin. Hugs were never his thing, but there he was, and it was exactly how Hufflepuff imagined it; big, warm and comfortable. 

She quickly hugged him back, fitting into the mold, which was Slytherin. 

Neither wanted to let go, Slytherin couldn’t control the hotness his cheeks and entire body felt, hugging his crush. She was so tiny, he could hug her forever. She was so warm and cuddlable. 

“Ahem-” Gryffindor fake coughed, smirking, “Save it for when your actually dating.” 

Both their faces turned bright red, instantly letting go like magnets with the same pole. 

Slytherin did a sideways glance of Hufflepuff. Her cheeks were red, and her freckles were fully prominent now. He couldn’t help but smile, she was absolutely adorable. 

Ravenclaw was watching this this act, smirking. 

The day went by, and Slytherin had never felt so happy. The sun was setting now, and the party was over. Everyone went back to their dorms. 

Slytherin while walking back with his brand new camera in hand, looked at the beautiful sunset making a silhouette of the astronomy tower. 

Another silhouette was made, and Slytherin could recognize that body and hair anywhere; Hufflepuff. 

He smiled, climbing up the stairs of the astronomy tower quietly. He reached the last step and hid behind the wall, watching Hufflepuff, 

Her soft humming was heard from afar, it was beauty to Sly’s ears. Her hair was messy now cause of the wind, but she never was more attractive. Sly could feel the positive charisma she gave out, just looking at her made many of his days brighter. 

He picked up the camera and quietly took a picture of Hufflepuff watching the sunset, sitting on the ground, hugging her knees. 

He smiled, placing the camera there and slowly sat next to her.

She jumped slightly, then chuckled when she saw who it was, “Oh, hey Slytherin.” She gave a soft smile. 

Slytherin saw through her charade, “What’s wrong? Did someone hurt you?” He asked, slightly worried and mad at the same time. 

Hufflepuff chuckled, bopping his nose, “Nope, no one hurt me. Just...wandering around in my thoughts.” She sighed. 

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Well, I really like someone, and I was planning to confess today, but as always, I chickened out.” She sighed. 

Slytherin’s day went from happy to terrible in three seconds, but he couldn’t bear to let Hufflepuff see him upset, when she heard everything people said and never reacted or judged.

“Oh...” He simply replied, his throat felt sour. 

“Would you believe me, if I said I had the same thought?” 

Hufflepuff’s eyes widened and turned to him, “Really?” 

He sighed and nodded, “Yeah.” 

Hufflepuff sighed, her day was just getting worse, “Well, I can help you prepare? Just say what your going to say to the girl your going to confess to, it will help you feel ready for the real deal.” She suggested. 

Slytherin nodded, this was his chance. He smiled softly, his hands unconsciously pushing a stand of her golden brown hair behind her ear. 

Hufflepuff’s face couldn’t be redder, she just waited for his response, and to hear her heart shatter in a hundred pieces. Sometimes it sucked to help people. 

“Listen, I need to tell you something.....I like you, I like you a lot, more than friends. And you’ll probably ask why, and I’ll tell you why. Its your positive character and your amazing personality, how you help people when they need it, and are always loyal to the bone. Your giggles, your snorts, your beautiful smiles, you pretty hazel eyes, which lights up when you see someone happy?” 

“I love everything about you, you make me happy. The most happy I’ve been in years,” His eyes sparkled with one emotion, love. 

Hufflepuff was hearing every single thing, and the way he was looking at her, could it be?

“I like you Hufflepuff, will you be my girlfriend?” 

Hufflepuff was about to burst into happiness, she nodded furiously, her cheeks red and a smile that just got bigger and bigger. 

Slytherin smiled real big, looking at her, slowly moving closer. Hufflepuff’s mind went on autopilot, moving closer and closer. 

Slytherin could feel her warm breath fanning his face, oh how he just wanted to kiss her. 

And soon, the gap between them was gone, leaving only happiness and bliss. 

Slytherin pulled her closer, Hufflepuff wrapping her arms around his neck, it was a dream come true for both of them. 

They let go slowly, both their faces red and breathing for air. They both burst into giggles, pressing their foreheads together. 

Thus the end of the best birthday Slytherin ever had, hugging his girlfriend close, under the moonlit night. 

And little did they know, their two friends caught the entire thing on his brand new camera. 

[quellmythirst]

Summer Days and Summer Nights Part 14

Summary: Living in the city can get pretty boring, your hoping that this season is more interesting than the last. Although living in a tiny flat with your little brother certainly isn’t helping matters.

Characters: You (reader) x Billy Russo. Peter Parker x MJ, Cooper OC x Hudson OC

Warnings: Swearing, implied violence, fluff, fluff, fluff.

Word Count: 1.5k+

{Part 13}

If you are under 18 DNI. Anyone under 18 can please FUCK OFF NOW. This ain’t for you. I do not consent to my works being copied, shared or rewritten.

The sun is beaming down on you as you walk down the street, your hand clasped tight with Billy’s. The morning heat kissing your skin, your favourite sundress blowing in the warm breeze. Since the gala Billy has barely let you out of sight. He took you to work and picked you up and if he couldn’t, he’d have one of his men or Cooper escort you. It seemed like a bit much honestly, but you could see the worry on his face ease when you agreed. If it took you constantly being accompanied to bring him a bit of peace, then you were happy to indulge him for now. Spending most nights with Billy gave you both a new kind of domesticity. You were teaching him how to cook and you suspected he was better than he led on. He didn't have to tell you that he was worried about Johnny. That man never knew when to give up. Billy first spotted him outside your building talking to Cooper, angling for a way in. Things got a little fiery apparently, resulting in Cooper hitting him in the face.You hadn’t seen him since then, but the glances Billy shot around every room you enter you could tell he was still on edge about it. You focused on your work, determined not to lose sleep of that asshole ever again. Targeting smaller companies, you helped young upstarts set up their offices, gave them guidance on how to ensure their websites' security. The pay was crumbs, but you had enough savings to get by and most of them really needed the help, not to mention Billy refusing to let you pay for anything. Which while lovely and thoughtful, was kinda annoying.

"This the place?" Billy asked, standing in front of the rundown looking building.

"Yeh third floor I think,"

Holding the door open for you, he guided you up the stairs. His eyes shifted from one floor to the next as you ascended. “Number 6, this is it,” knocking on the door, it opens almost immediately you're greeted with a smile and the young man eyes Billy cautiously.

"Miss Y/n ma'am, MJ is just setting up, come in '' Peter said, his arm gesturing widely to welcome you in.

"Pete this is Billy, alright if he comes in?"

"Nice to meet you sir." He said, shaking Billy's hand "he like your bodyguard or something?" Peter whispers to you.

"Or something is right kid," Billy smirks behind you.

The apartment is nice. Cute in a way that every young person's is. Sure they don't have much stuff but it's cozy and lived in. They’ve got everything they need and not a lot more than that.

"You must be the famous Mary Jane Watson Pete is always raving about," extending your hand to the young woman. She takes it and her handshake is stronger and firmer than you expect.

You take a seat on the couch and Billy sits next to you, resting his arm around behind the sofa. He smiles politely at your hosts, but his body is tense and his eyes flick around the room every few minutes.

"Go ahead whenever you're ready," you sit back, your head resting gently on Billy’s arm.

The young woman coughs before beginning "What brought you to this city?"

"Lots of things, the surf is good, the sand is warm and anything feels possible here, " you smile at the most impossible man sitting next to you.

"Nothing career related then?" MJ asks, rolling her eyes when she thought you weren't looking.

"At first it was just my career, I got an internship in the Baxter Building under Richards, then when I finished my degree I decided to branch out. Needed my own space. So I decided I'd be a consultant. Just working when I needed to, gave me more time to go to the beach mostly"

The interview went well. MJ asked very thoughtful and insightful questions. Peter popped his head in a few times to grab you both a drink before hiding himself in the kitchen. He thought you couldn’t see him smiling and giving MJ a thumbs up from beside the door, but he never was good at subtlety.

"Thank you so much for your time, "

"Your welcome, it was lovely to meet you. I can see why Pete is always going on about you,"

Xx

After the interview you and Billy make your way to the beach with the end of summer just a few days away you were taking this last opportunity to take him surfing. Coop agreed to meet you at the beach with his board for Billy to borrow.

“Hey Smalls!” Coop called from his towel, Hudson relaxing on his own next to him.

“Hey Runt,”

“Hey strangers, feel like we haven't seen you guys in weeks,” Hudson laughs, rolling onto his side to look up at you.

“I’m sure you're heartbroken to have the apartment all to yourselves,” the sarcasm oozing from your mouth.

“No more trouble?” Cooper asked Billy.

“Haven't seen that asshole in weeks. We had to have another little talk after I assume he spoke to you, judging by the massive shiner on his face.” Billy smiled proudly at Coop.

“Yeh, I couldn't help myself. Y/n tells me she's taking you out?”

Sure am, you grin at them "I'm just gunna go change, you boys be right for a minute?"

“Don't worry we'll be fine,” they all watched you though, you could feel their eyes following you.

You change quickly, thankfully the change room is full. A change room full of people always sets you at ease, a lot less chance for weirdos to creep in.

You head back out to the beach and see the men huddled together. Were they giggling? Idiots.

“You three all right?” You ask them, shocking them as they separate, hushing each other.

“Grab your board baby, we’re going out.”

Taking your own under your arm you lead Billy into the surf. Explaining to him how to paddle while you head out.

The surf is flat again today, but it gives you the chance to play a bit. Jumping from your board to Billy's to settle in front of him.

“Hey there handsome,”

“Hey sweetheart,” he kisses you softly and you feel his arm on you before he pushes you off the side of the board. “Oh no! You've gone overboard!” His laugh rumbles through him.

Swimming under the board you swim up hard, flipping the board over and fling him straight into the water. “Oh no! Billy, your hairs ruined you” coo at him, pushing his hair from his face. He narrows his eyes at you, trying to hold back the big toothy smile hiding in the corner of his mouth.

“We’ll see who's ruined” he threatens, while you try to climb back on your board. His strong hand catches your ankle pulling you back into the ocean, his arms wrap around you. “When do you think you're going?”

“Ah let go!” You giggle, splashing him in the face, “Help! Help!” you half heartedly cry as you squirm in his arms.

“Ah huh, your my prisoner now, can't wait to tell the press I caught a real life mermaid,”

“I'm not a mermaid,” you yell, in between the laughter that's threatening to consume you, pretending to scramble back onto your board

“Really then why is your siren song calling to me?”

“Billy, a siren and a mermaid are different.” You tell him, finally worming your way out of his arms.

“Either way, I'm gunna be rich! Get my own theme park and everything.” he chases after you.

“No! No,” you protest, “I don't wanna be trapped in a tank.”

“Ah ha! I caught you, you are a mermaid.”

You laughed and played in the ocean until your hands were all pruny and your mouth tasted like sea water and Billy’s kisses.

“I didn't see you guys do any actual surfing,” Cooper stated, trying to hold back his laugh at the sight of you hoisted over Billy's shoulder as he exited the surf.

“Cooper you're never gunna believe it,” Billy smiled playfully at them "caught a real life mermaid, check her out” he spun showing him your face, that was aching from how much you had been laughing.

“Cooper help! He wants to put me in a museum” you cried, trying to sound desperate, but the laughter just wouldn’t stop.

Cooper snorted at this, “Dunno about mermaid Bill, seems more like a sea monster, probably best to throw it back,”

“Even if it is a sea monster we could sell her,” Hudson offered.

“You guys suck,” you huffed, smacking Billy on the ass.

“Don't worry Sweetheart, I'd never give you away.” Billy patted you softly on the ass, before pecking you on the back of your thigh.

“Ugh, Coop they're being cute again” Hudson made a gagging sound, leaning onto Cooper's shoulder.

“You're right, let's go babe.”

“Bye Boys,” You waved from your awkward position and Billy finally set your feet back on the ground.

“Guys,” Billy nodded at them, handing Coop back his board, “thanks for the loan. Think I'll just stick to swimming.”

“What are we doing tonight?” You asked Billy, when he wrapped you both in a towel.

“I gotta work Sweetheart, hopefully won't be out too long.”

{Part 15}

[alfredosauce50]

She’ll never know [Yandere! Iceland x reader]

Synopsis: Everybody’s pumped for the week-long skiing trip in Switzerland. While Emil and you are back to showcasing your weird relationship— “platonically” holding hands and sharing beds, Mathias never catches the drift like everyone else does and demands the same treatment from you. Emil eventually gives in to jealousy and denounces his friendship with you the first night in. He thought he was satisfied with these developments, all until he overhears a conversation between Mathias and Lukas two days later. Seems like he wasn’t the only one pining for you. His chance at revenge arrives when he finds the Dane unconscious in the snow after a freak accident. Wordcount: 4,288 The reader is referred to as she/her.

It was supposed to be a drama-free ski trip. 

You were tagging along for the first time, sitting with him on the plane and sharing a room at the resort. Getting a seat next to you was a wildcard, for sure. But the latter was a given, considering it was Tino who made the sleeping arrangements. Out of everyone in the group, or anyone for that matter, you had always been the closest to Emil—the Finnish man was well aware of that.

Even then, he planned on sticking to you like a tattoo. For seven straight days, being with him also meant you would be in the company of a loud-mouthed Dane. And sometimes, he could be all up in your business. But he was safe for now, so long as he didn’t try anything on the plane. 

The soft murmuring of passengers and white noise of the cabin filled his ears as he walked down one of the aisles. Once you found your seats, he didn’t waste time to buckle himself in and get comfortable, all so he could pull out his phone. The last time you were with him, you both watched Interstellar. Well, most of it. 

“Em, this flight is a little over an hour. Why not take a nap instead?” You suggested, but he never slowed his movements to open Netflix.

While the downloaded video loaded, he pulled off his sweatshirt to ruffle up his silvery-white hair. Under that was a black graphic T-shirt with a cat on it. “Mm... No. We have to finish it while it’s still fresh in our memory.”

“Okay, fine. I didn’t wanna watch it right now because I’ll cry again.”

“So? Nobody’s gonna see.” 

Nobody except him. But you never minded, as you were already leaning over to finish the movie with him. His taste in sad movies rubbed off on you, and you were quick to tears. That, he was very familiar with. But besides crying, you also had a habit of falling asleep in his bed after staying up to watch things or play games. So it wasn’t weird to know how often you slept with him. 

Eventually, a strange chemistry started to brew between you both. 

A physical and emotional closeness so intimate, it was comparable to that of a relationship. But Emil never thought of things like that. Best friends could do this stuff, couldn’t they? Holding hands and sharing clothes was the norm. 

Drinking from the same cup was just a regular Tuesday.  

“Gimme some of your apple juice.” You whispered, feeling a little dry in the mouth after tearing up. Reaching out for his cup to take a few gulps, he furrowed his brows and grumbled. He was left with nothing but backwash. 

“I was gonna drink that.”

A few mischievous laughs fell from your lips. “There’s still some left.” Picking the cup up, you swished around the remaining contents, which wasn’t much. 

“This should be more than enough for you, you dehydrated gremlin. I’d encourage you to have more, but we both know you’d only have a sip whether I drank from it or not."

A light blush dusted his cheeks and he frowned. “No I wouldn’t.”

“You would. That’s why I left you a sip.”

“... Shut up.”

The plane landed not long after, and your spunk died down near the conclusion of the film. Yes, it was sad. And yes, you cried. Like Emil expected, you were going to be silent for a while. When everyone regrouped to walk around the airport, you stayed by his side and held his hand. At the platforms to wait for the train, you and him were inseparable—head on his shoulder and all. But in your defence, you were tired. And this wasn’t the first time.

If anybody else did this to him, he would be shoving them off. They could hit their head for all he cared. And that was precisely why Tino and Lukas were giving him funny looks in the carriage. 

Laughing quietly to themselves with a hand covering their mouths, they watched on with a devilish expression. “Huhuhu,” was what Emil heard as he sat comfortably in his seat, but he knew what it translated to. Look at you, holding her hand while she’s asleep. He simply turned away with rosy cheeks. He didn’t know what they were on about. This wasn’t weird at all. 

Yes, he wasn’t exactly the most touchy-feely with people, but you weren’t just anybody. And he knew he liked you, a lot at that, but it was perfectly platonic. 

Nobody was convinced, however. All except for the Dane who practically came bounding over from a few rows down. But it was likely he never even got the gist.

The train finally reached a slower, constant speed, so he was prepared to join the group for some small talk. Leaning down on the backrest, he laid his eyes on you and Emil with a grin. “Well, well, well. Don’t you two look cozy.” He commented, his voice making the boy glance up. “Don’t get too comfortable, though. We’re going skiing today!”

“But hey—”Combing a hand through his wild and unruly locks of blonde, he smiled sheepishly. “Do you think I could sit with her on the way back?”

Just when he thought nothing could ruin this vacation, he was proven wrong. That was right. Mathias was the only other person present who actively showed you affection, and it always bothered him. God, the thought of you sitting with him for hours made him sick. 

“... Only if she wants to.” He mumbled, sinking lower into his seat to cause his hoodie to ride up. Since it was already on his head, it came drooping over his face to hide his dark purple eyes. There, he could read the other’s expression.

He could take a few things away from it. Right now, he was rubbing the nape of his neck while watching you snooze. Every time Mathias was expectant, he wouldn’t stop moving his hands. The sight made his frown deepen. When Lukas and Tino witnessed this, they looked away and shared the same thought. 

Just let him be, you idiot.

But Mathias didn’t quite get the memo, let alone read their minds.

So he stood up and responded with this. “Well, of course she’ll want to! Who wouldn’t sit next to me?” A brief silence fell around the group. Lukas coughed. Berwald continued to watch the mountainous landscape outside the window without a word, trailing his icy blue eyes over the snow that glowed purple at dawn. “Seriously, guys? This is why I like (F/N) the best. At least she’s nice to me.” 

Emil squeezed your hand as you slept. The tightness in his chest only seemed to worsen by the second. And it showed in his visible discomfort. Lowering his head, he let his fringe fall over his eyes.

“... She’s nice to everyone.” 

The blonde shrugged while closing his eyes in a look of satisfaction. 

“If you’re gonna be train buddies, then we can be skiing buddies. Right, (F/N)?” Reaching down to your head, he tipped it gently in a nod before saying this. “Of course, Mathias! You’re my favorite.” 

As if. 

“That was a terrible impression.” 

“What impression?” 

He huffed under his breath. They hadn’t even arrived at the resort, and he was already dreading the next seven days. This gut feeling turned out to be right, because it only seemed to get worse. 

***

Shortly after arriving, everyone dropped off their things before leaving to get right into the sport. After napping for nearly two hours, you were replenished with the energy to go skiing. Despite being quite the skilled skier himself, Mathias was kind enough to accompany you on the easier slopes. More accurately put, he was jumping at the opportunity to teach you. 

Hell, he’d been waiting outside your room to take you to the ski lifts. The moment you opened the door, you were greeted by the man all geared up, with goggles on and all. 

“Morning. You ready to roll? Or, slide?” He asked. 

Seeing him so eager was cute, so you were obliged to follow, leaving Emil alone in the room. When said boy left the bathroom after freshening up, he saw the door close behind you. “Sorry, Emil! I’m gonna go ahead! I’ll see you outside!” 

And just like that, you were gone. Dropping his face towel off on a chair, he dug his hands through his hair and breathed in deeply. Since when was the last time he felt this much anguish? Yes, he was rooming with you. But that was only at night. Daytime meant you would be with Mathias. He had no place complaining, considering he wasn’t the best at skiing. Nothing he could do about that. 

He changed out of his T-shirt and into his snow gear with a sigh. 

His excitement to go skiing was gone. 

And if he wasn’t going to ski, he’d be holed up in his room. His logic told him this was selfish, but he wanted you to stay with him more than anything. 

You returned late in the afternoon as the sun was going down, but he’d been staying inside ever since lunch. Perking up at the sound of the door creaking open, he forced his head down and popped his earphones in. After you set your things down and changed to more comfortable clothes, you walked over to the bed and found a bump under the blanket. Lifting it up by the hem, you found him curled up with his phone. 

His earphones fell out. “(F/N)?” 

“Who else would it be, dummy? I was wondering where you went.” You kicked off your slippers and slid right in. He didn’t know how much he’d been longing for this until now—the feeling of you laying next to him in bed. But he couldn’t get carried away yet. It wasn’t even night yet.

A displeased expression contorted at your features, but it melted away as you pulled his phone away. 

“H-Hey!” He tried reaching out for it, but it was already on the bedside table. 

“No more screen time for you.” You tapped him on the nose. “How else am I gonna get your lazy ass out of bed?” He knitted his brows together and rolled into you to hide his face. Then, he curled two arms around you, albeit slowly.

“To do what?”

“To ski, duh.” 

He squeezed you. “But I don’t want to.” Emil’s wintry white locks were soft against your chest, and you felt his body heat waft over to yours. It was a sure fire sign he’d been under the covers for too long. That was when an idea struck him. This would definitely get you to stay with him for the rest of the day, and maybe tomorrow if he was lucky. “I... feel kinda sick.” 

Your smile fell and you immediately reached out to cup his cheeks, then clamp a hand over his forehead. When he felt your touch as you checked his temperature, his heart rate escalated. He was on cloud nine. 

“... Oh no... You’re a bit warm. I think it’s best that you stay in bed. But don’t use too many blankets, or your fever will get worse.”

The sensation of your hands on him was to die for, and the thought that you were worried about him made it better. Nobody would have expected this trait from the usually detached boy, but he was secretly clingy. And he had the most subtle ways of showing it. An example would be lying about feeling unwell, but he didn’t feel bad about it at all. 

A headache was pounding in his skull, and it wasn’t wrong to say he was upset. And plus, if this worked, you could stay with him. He could practically feel a smile creeping to his lips at the thought, but he hid half of his face with the blanket. “... Are you gonna ski tomorrow?” He asked quietly. 

You craned your head to the side in thought. 

“Only if you can. Who’s gonna look after you when I’m gone?”

Blood rushed up to his face and he nodded. “Okay.” 

Reaching out to his cheek again, you groaned. “Oh my god. Why are you so hot? Hold on. I’m gonna find you an ice pack.” You slid off the bed, but not before giving him an affectionate pinch. He made a soft noise in protest. “I think this is a sign for you to fix your sleep schedule and stop eating instant.” 

Before you left, he reached out to grab your wrist. 

“What is it?”

He released you after a few moments. “... Nothing...” 

You smiled weirdly. “Okay, hun. Give me a ring if you need anything.” 

A couple hours later, the group gathered for dinner in a nearby restaurant. Despite the freezing temperatures that dropped significantly at night, Mathias insisted to sit outside at the balcony to enjoy the views. The views in question weren’t even that visible with how dark out it was. There was nothing but faint outlines of mountains stretching on for miles into the horizon. 

Much to Emil’s displeasure, you insisted that he sit opposite you. Understandable, because it was closer to the indoors where the warm air was wafting out of. But that only meant you’d sit next to the Dane, and he was quick to notice you shivering lightly in the cold. 

Like him, you had a sweater on, but he was the human heater, not you. Curling an arm around your shoulders with a softened gaze, he rubbed your arm up and down. Almost like how a boyfriend would to their girlfriend. 

And Emil witnessed it all happen. 

“You’re shaking like a leaf, min elskede. Do you want my sweater as well?” He laughed, to where you shook your head profusely. 

Did he just call you ‘my love’ in Danish? Since when did he start calling you that? And he was offering his clothes to you as well? He thought only he did that. Gripping the hem of his hoodie with clammy hands, he lowered his head as his heart started to sting. Fuck. He hated this feeling. 

But what he saw next made it unfathomable. 

“No, of course not! I can deal with this. You’d be crazy to take it off—" He lifted his sweater up and threw it over his head, the action making his t-shirt ride up. “—and, you’re taking it off.” He fixed his top before sliding the knit over you. Pulling it down so you could fit your arms through the arm holes, you were overwhelmed with his smell, and not to mention, completely encased with warmth. 

He was now left in nothing but a T-shirt.

“That better?” Mathias grinned.

“Yes, you idiot. But if you catch a cold because of me, you won’t be the only sick one in the group.” You grumbled under a blush, a little embarrassed he actually gave you his sweater. “Thank you, though.”

His stomach churned. His breathing deepened. Unbeknownst to you, or anyone for that matter, he started to spiral down a path of self-destructive thoughts. Did he always like you that much? He lifted his gaze to you, and found you carrying on with your usual banter with the Dane. Did you always like him that much? You laughed. Emil bit his lip. It always made him euphoric to hear you laugh, but knowing it wasn’t him that was responsible for it made him feel an unpleasant mix of all kinds of things. Sadness, anger, and a violent kind of jealousy.

So shortly after finishing his food, he stood up and left without a word. That silenced the chatter at the table, and everyone called out to him. But he was too quick on his feet.

You’d never seen him do something like that. Either he was nauseous, or something was really wrong. “He’d got a fever, so maybe he’s going to... You know. I’ll check on him.” With that said, you stood up and took Mathias’s sweater off. “Here. Just in case I don’t come back.”

Jogging up to your room, you were relieved to see that your instincts were right on the mark. Emil had retreated back here, and was currently hiding under the covers. Nearing his side, you lowered yourself to your knees. "Em? Are you okay? Did you puke?”

“... No.” His voice was thick and nasally.

And that pointed to one thing.

The poor boy was crying.

Breathing out a soft sigh, you removed all your layers until you were in your undergarments. Lifting up the corner of the blanket, you joined him before wrapping your arms around his form. “I know you don’t like talking about yourself, but I can’t help you unless you tell me what’s wrong.” You murmured, rubbing soothing circles into his back. “You can tell me anything. I won’t be weirded out or judge you. I’m just worried about you, okay?”

He popped his head out from under the blanket to reveal his flushed face stained with tears.

“... Anything?”

You hummed. “Mmhm. Anything.”

Emil paused for a moment. Frankly, he had no idea why he was feeling like this. Perhaps he did, he just didn’t want to say it. That maybe, everyone was right about him. That what he felt about you was anything but innocent. The signs were all there. He’d never been this attached to anyone, ever, and even if he was, he would’ve hid it to some degree. But not with you. He’d been all over you since the start of the trip, and even now, he had his arms looped around your neck. And when other people decided to do the same to you, he was choked with turbulent emotions.

It even got to the point of intrusive thoughts. Back at the dinner table, all he could think about aside from worrying about this relationship was this—something terrible happening to Mathias. He didn’t want him to be there. He just wished he’d disappear, even for a little while.

When he realized these desires, he knew he couldn’t tell you. But there was still something he wanted. “... I’m fine now. But I just wanted to ask you something.”

You frowned. “Doesn’t look like you’re fine. You can’t keep brushing it off and expect me to let it go.”

��You’re right. But I promise I’ll feel better after this.”

“... Alright. But the next time this happens, I’m not letting you off the hook.” You murmured, reaching out to give his cheek a pat. “What did you wanna ask me?”

He flickered his eyes down to your lips. Then, he returned his gaze, but his stare felt a little hot on you for some reason. It never crossed your mind that he was hugging you around your neck, but it did now. “Would you ever...” Emil blushed darkly. “... Kiss me?”

You blinked at the unexpected question, but reacted nevertheless. The red flushing his cheeks spread to yours as you strung together the words to respond. “Well... I’m not disgusted or anything. We’re really close, so I wouldn’t mind kissing you.” You answered honestly, but that didn’t change the fact that you were curious why he even asked such a thing. “... Why?”

“I just wanted to know.” Emil mumbled. “Would you kiss anyone else?”

“No. That would be weird, wouldn’t it?”

His heart started to pound in euphoria. But the longer he lingered on what you said, his heart began to pound with another emotion.

“If you’d kiss me, then would you kiss me now?”

You had a feeling things would pan out this way. But you didn’t mind it in the least, in fact, you kind of wanted to do this. Leaning in to him, you heard his breath hitch from the close proximity. “... Maybe. But only a short one, because you’re sick.” Pressing your lips to his for short and sweet peck, he squeezed his arms around you and pulled you in again. Attaching his mouth to yours for a deeper kiss, he caught you off guard by the sudden build-up in intensity.

His coils around your neck tightened, and for the next few minutes or so, he kept kissing you. He just couldn’t stop moving his mouth with yours, nibbling on your lips ever so often. It felt too good. He never thought he’d ever be able to do this, but he was never going back now.

Everything he’d ever done with you now felt like child’s play. How could he have resisted these feelings for so long? Rolling you onto your back, he loomed over you and continued to make out with you on the bed. The connection between your mouths was starting to feel hot. The taste of yours only grew more prominent, and that was how he knew he was denouncing everything he used to have with you. He couldn’t take it, being friends with you. Emil had always been clingy. Jealous. And he was facing the truth—the reason.

He liked you. In every way you could like someone. But that wasn’t all. He was obsessed with you.

That night, you fell asleep on his chest.

To say he was satisfied with these developments was an understatement. He always thought of himself as your best friend, nothing more, nothing less. But he was relieved he finally accepted he really felt about you. So there was no need to pretend to be sick anymore.

He felt like skiing again, especially when you had another reason to be with him instead of Mathias.

The next day was a blast.

He finally got to try the intermediate slope thanks to your encouragement, and he could officially say he wasn’t terrible at skiing. And he continued to explore the harder slopes the day after as well.

Sometime in the afternoon, he returned back to the resort for a hot drink break. Taking a seat in the dining hall, he overheard two familiar voices. He swallowed down what he had in his mouth before listening in to their conversation. Hm. Was that... Mathias? And Lukas? Those two have always been pretty close, so he could already guess that their conversation would include pretty confidential contents. But it wasn’t his fault they held it in his earshot, right?

“Hey, so I’ve been thinking. I really like... You know. And I wanted to ask her out.”

“You mean (F/N)? Good luck trying to separate her from Emil. If they somehow don’t already like each other, then maybe you’ll have a chance.”

“Nah, it’s worth a shot! He isn’t the type to be in a relationship, anyway.”

Emil froze.

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

The memories of that conversation replayed in his head like a broken record. Even while he was enjoying the cold night air as he skied later that day, he couldn’t stop lingering on it. Fuelling the anger he felt a few days ago. So that was why he gave you his sweater. Gliding through the soft blankets of snow, he never slowed down. Nobody knew you were dating him yet, but that only reinforced the fact that this relationship was new. Nothing was set in stone yet. And that only meant things could change, wouldn’t it?

His chest tightened and he slowed to a stop. He couldn’t let that happen, no matter what.

As if the world wanted to test that statement, his attention was stolen by a gap in the snow fencing. It looked as if something shot through it, or more accurately put, crashed into it and broke it. Sliding himself closer to take a better look, he was shocked to find a body outside the barriers. A skier. He must’ve swerved too hard and passed out from possible head trauma.

But Emil soon discovered it wasn’t just any random ‘he’. The clothes and gear were all too familiar. Could it be? His blonde hair gave it all away. This skier wasn’t a stranger. It was Mathias.

He was laying on his side with half his head submerged in white.

Upon realizing their identity, the fear-induced urgency to call for help suddenly subsided. Instead, he turned around, and skied away, slowly, back to the resort. What was he doing? Was he seriously going to leave him out in the snow where he could easily die? Emil couldn’t stop himself from moving. Was he seriously that upset? It was clear. He was.

But he knew he didn’t want him to die.

Even then, he couldn’t bring himself to tell anyone, not until an hour later, at least.

He didn’t know what was going through his head. But he knew what he felt. He wanted him to get sick at least. That would incapacitate him for a while, but not forever.

Sure enough, when the search and rescue found him, he was down with a bad case of hypothermia. He was immediately tended to by medical professionals, and it was revealed that he wouldn’t have made it if Emil never brought up the matter that Mathias had been missing. The color drained from his face when he heard that, and he never felt this guilty in his life. But it was short-lived. After all, he was still alive, wasn’t he?

He secured you in his arms as you cried softly into his chest. Nobody had to know about this. Especially not you, who warbled out how thankful you were that he remembered Mathias’s disappearance.

As he kissed your tears away, the only thought that repeated in his head was this.

She’ll never know.

[pure-kirarin]

Studying at night - Koby x f!reader (College AU)

A/N : Thanks a lot dear. I am a sucker for my pink boy, so, here is a scenario about studying with him. It came out like the first part of a series, so I might write the rest later. It was so fun and well...Please imagine it being set in La Sorbonne or something. I imagined the actions taking place there. +w+ Ok. Enough chatter. 

« - Who have you been assigned to work with, (Y/N) ? »

«-Hmm...Let's see » you check the little paper that you have picked « the name is Koby...I don't know who it is. »

« -Koby ?! Forreal ?? Whaa, I envy you » She taps your shoulder gently while assembling her books. « He scored first for the last two years on every single test. He is like...very hardworking. And a bit nerdy if you see what I mean » She says as she mimics big glasses on her face. « He will probably do all the project, don't bother ! »

-What do you mean ? You're offending me, Nami-chan ! I won't let him do all the work...And you,w ho have you been assigned to ?

She pauses for a little while pinching the bridge of her nose, visibly annoyed then says ; « Zoro. If I let him do anything I think that I will fail this class. Guess I'll do all the work she shrugs but I will make him pay for lunch for a week in return. 

-Sounds like a nice deal. You smile and put your books in your handbag.

-Well...I have to leave for now. I have a lecture starting in five minutes...Oh...Look there ! -She points out to a pink haired guy on one of the middle rows putting his books in his bag- that's your man, you might want to catch up with him to discuss the project. Anyways, I'm leaving now.

-See you later. I'll come back later tonight so don't wait for me for dinner.

-Alright ! See ya !

Nami and you shared the same room at the dorm, however, because of your work you always came back late. You didn't have a choice, the cost of life was really high in the capital and you didn't want to be a burden to your parents. You sighed and walked towards the guy. You had some lectures in commun, his face was familiar. You have always assumed that he were younger because of his childish features. The pink hair gave him a soft look, it reminded you of cotton candy.

You waved to him and said after clearing you throat ;

-Yo' ! I'm (Y/N). I guess that we are doing the project work together ? You point to the piece of paper on the wooden table.

-O-oh, hi. He looks at the paper and reads, (Y/N/L/N). Yes ! We are doing the project together then. Nice to meet you. I am Koby. He bows a little bit while presenting himself.

-Cool. I don't have a class right now. We could go grab a coffee in the cafeteria and discuss the project if that's okay with you.

-Ah ? Of course ! That's fine with me. I guess I have some time. He says while looking at his wrist watch.

-Nice. Let's go.

You give him a wide smile. He looked a little bit uncomfortable. The shy type for sure. You were somehow comfortable and looked at him from head to toe. Cute style ; he was wearing a green bandana on his forehead, casual pale blue blaser above a white shirt and a pair of jeans. He looked well put together, a little bit boring ; nerdy type for sure. He took a pair of huge glasses off his face and put them in a case before following you to the cafeteria.

You were now sitting in front of each other in the cafeteria. You smiled noticing how he just ordered a hot chocolate while you loved your tea black and bitter. He was looking at you, then, when you rested your eyes on him he just looked away. He seemed like an easily flustered person. You wondered if he will manage in the presentation. The project you were working on was due to be presented in front of everyone. It was about didactics.

-So, you're also a second year ?

-Y-yes.

-We don't have a lot of lectures in commun. In what major are you ?

-History. I take this lecture as an extra. Didactics sounded fun.

-Oh. You take a sip from your coffee. That's nice. You wanna become a teacher ?

-Not really. I would like to become a heritage curator.

-Whaa, really ? Sounds cool. And...very specific.

-I guess so...That is not something a lot of people would like to do. He says, smiling and scratching his neck. He seemed nervous.

-You're so tense. You should relax a bit. We are the same age after all. Anyways, about this project. You take your agenda out of your bag and open in it front of Koby. Oh jeez. I am really busy with m part-time job most days. So I am only free on nights...The library stays open all night, I don't know if it's okay with you to work at night. I don't want to impose my schedule on you.

He waves a hand infront of his face, assuring you that it's fine with him ;

-It's okay ! I live in the dorm anyways so I am free whenever you are. I don't want to interfere with your working hours.

-Alright so let's say thursday at 10 PM ?

-That's alright.

-It's settled then. I am looking forward to working with you, Koby ! You make a bright smile and he  gasps a bit, taken aback by your chill demeanour. Oh I forgot. Can I have your number ?

He looked startled for a while.

-For the project. You assured.

-Oh yes sure !

You offer him your phone and he types his number. You wave to him ;

-Thanks ! I'll message you later. It was nice meeting you, Koby. »

You don't wait for his answear and head to the dorm to get prepared for your job.

(Y/N) sent a message : Hey Koby, you always down to study at 10 PM tonight ???

Koby👓 sent a message : Yes sure ! I'll book a study room in the library if that's fine with you.

(Y/N) sent a message : Sure, see you later !;)

At nine a half you were getting your books and study material ready to go join the cotton candy man. You didn't bother to take off your make up and put on a big coat over your body. You just took off your red lipstick with a babywipe and headed to the library. The place was calm and almost empty. It was rustic, it had a XIXth century style, well, like your whole university that was renovated around that time. It had a classical style that was charming and added a cozy ambience.

Koby 👓 sent a message : I am already in study room number 3. I am sorry I didn't notify you earlier.

This guy was too polite, you thought. You had a little smile then went to the study room. He jumped a bit in his seat when the door opened and that made you chuckle. He was easily startled.

-Hi Koby, I hope that I'm not messing with your sleeping schedule.

Despite the late hour, he seemed wide awake. He said as you sit next to him, putting your laptop on the table.

-O-Oh...No. It's totally fine. I hope that I am the one not interfering with your job.

When his eyes layed on you, he couldn't restrain the surprise that was now mirrored in them. Surely because you were wearing heavy make up ; smokey eyes and glitter that was stuck to your face and your hair. It was different from your usual naked-face look. He couldn't help but wonder for what reason where you wearing so much make up, and what you were hiding under your long coat. But he coughed loudly, trying to focus again ; the project.

-Thanks. I really appreciate how flexible you are around my hours. I owe you one ! I think that no one else would've accepted to work with me this late haha...Well, I wouldn't have minded doing the project on my own. You shrug.

-Really ?...Well...Actually, me neither. I am not too good at project working...And studying with others... He looks down with a smile.

-Oh wow, I wouldn't have guessed. You look like you are good at cooperating. Anyways, I am sure that we will kick ass !

The way you talked and how confident you were were two things that the pinkette appreciated about your personnality. You seemed like an easy going person, he didn't feel much pressure to work with you. You open your laptop and start laying some ideas, meanwhile, he takes out a notebook and a pencil case ; Oh, old-school, I see, you think to yourself.

His notes were very organized and clean. He seemed to have memorized everything the professor has said about the project and had a clear plan. However, he asked you for your opinion for everything and couldn't help but ask « are you alright with this part ? » for every idea he suggested. It was a bit annoying, but also a bit cute.

When he was studying, he was different. He had a bit more confidence and didn't hesitate to correct you when something you said seemed out of the topic or a bit repetitive. You appreciate this about him ; yes, no wonder he scored first for the two last years.

You worked for around two hours before you noticed that his eyes started looking tired. He wasn't used to studying this late, yet he did his best to come study with you at this time. You felt bad for keeping him awake.

-Koby-san ? Your soft voice snatched him out of his half-sleeping state.

-Ohh ! Sorry I just--

-You should probably go to sleep. I am sorry I gave you such a hard time. You must have classes tomorrow morning...You said with a sorry voice.

-No no, it's totally fine. I am sorry I just...well...

-No need to be sorry. Well, it's past midnight now. We should probably get going and continue tomorrow or some other day.

-Are you sure ?

-Yeah. I'm not going to keep you more. You look really tired. You shouldn't overwork yourself, Koby-san...Well...Even if technically it's my fault. You giggled a bit.

You started putting your stuff in your bag and he did the same, appreciating your presence. You had a soft aura that was really calming. He has never studied this late before, but he liked the atmosphere. It felt so dreamy.

As you were both going out of the room, you noticed a little cat keychain on the ground. You bowed down to take it in your hand. It was a cute kitty wearing a strawhat. You looked at Koby with a frown and said  

-I think that you dropped this ?

You couldn't help but smile when you saw his embarrassed face. Yeah. It definitely looked like something he would have. He took it off your hand pretty fast and stuttered ;

-Oh thanks ! It's...Well...It's like a lucky charm haha.

-No need to justify yourself. I think that it fits your personnality pretty well.

-Huh ? He just said not understanding what you meant.

-It's pretty cute !

You were making it even harder for him not to blush and you were having too much fun looking at him struggle. It was wrong, but it just was too much fun.

-Oh. It was a compliment by the way.

You wink at him before going out of the study room. He follows you, destabilized. Your confident and assertive behavior was really foreign to him. You really made him interested in learning more about you.

Studying with you was calming, sharing that moment at night in the almost empty library, having you in full make up at such a late hour, as if you were going to a date. He blushed at that thought and felt bad for thinking that. You were there to study and you were strangers, well, university mates. He wasn't allowed to have such a thought.

You were fascinating in more than one way and you really made him curious to learn more about you. You seemed like the type of girls to hide secrets behind her immaculate day-look. He was a bit impatient to learn more. But why ? You were only working for a university project after all, and once it was done, he won't have the opportunity to spend more time with you, and that somehow made his chest tighten.

[wolfish-trickster]

Show, don't tell

Loki x female!reader

Word count: 1 815

Summary: your friends dare you to tell your crush how you feel. But since you're mischievious just like him, you'll do it in your way

Warnings: none i guess (besides my bad grammar, but you already know that) and Loki is slightly ooc

Tag list: @gaitwae @lucywrites02 @hard-to-be-the-bard @birdgirl90 @laramoonworld

When you were a kid you saw a little boy at your favourite playground. He never spoke, he only moved his fingers and hands strangely. When you asked your parent, they said it's called sign language and people who can't hear use it to comunicate.

Later in your life you met a girl in school who was deaf and lonely. You wanted to become her friend so you took few classes and learned sign. You two were always together, best friends till the end of the school. You two stayed in contact after you went your separate ways.

That was the past. Now you had another person in your life who knew sign language: Clint Barton. Actually, you taught him sign when he lost hearing in an accident on a mission. You were friends ever since. He introduced you to the rest of the Avengers and they became your friends as well. You began spending a lot of time in the tower, you slept over sometimes so Tony gave you your own room. It was smaller than the rest of the Avengers' and was practically the attic of the tower, but it was cozy and you liked it.

It was a cloudy friday and you just entered the tower. You and Natasha wanted to hang out (and how better than having a sleepover with movies, nail polish and classic girly thing Nat doesn't get to enjoy in her hero time?)

As you stumbled across the living area you heard voices. Most likely coming from the party deck. Strange, Tony didn't mention any parties.

You walked one floor upstairs and saw Clint, Nat, Steve, Bucky and Thor sitting on couches, a single glass bottle layed on the table. Everyone had their heads turned towards the ceiling. You looked up and saw Peter making a giant web.

He sticked a big spider plushie inside and swung himself down to couches. "Alright, my turn."

"What are guys doing?" you sat down next to Thor.

"Playing truth or dare of course," Peter explained as he spinned the bottle.

"We are teching Thor what people do to embarass eachother," Natasha chuckled as she was showing you her pigtails and childish make up.

"Can I join?" you asked.

"Sure, who knows, maybe it will land on you."

The bottle stopped right as Nat finished the sentence. Its openening pointing to Clint.

"Alright mister Barton, truth or dare?" Peter asked.

"For the last time kid, just Clint. Truth, I already picked dare twice. Let's hear your question."

"Alright, ummmm," Peter held his chin inbetween his fingers, thinking. He snapped. "What happened in Budapest?"

Clint and Natasha looked at eachother smirking. This will take a while.

~

After few more rounds the bottle finally pointed to you. Your heart pounded with excitement and fear at the same time.

"So," Steve sat a little straighter, "truth or dare?"

"Uhm...... I'm a big girl, dare!"

"Okay then, I dare you to-"

"How in the nine did that web get there?"

All of you turned to the entrance hall. Loki stood there, arms crossed, leaning against a wall.

"Uuuuuh a giant spider?" Peter smiled sheepishly trying too hard to be believable.

"We are playing a game to embarrass eachother. Join us. It's way more fun than I expected," Thor invited Loki.

Loki shook his head. "I have no interest in games today. Maybe later I shall join," his eyes locked with yours. He smiled softly and waved at you. "Hello Y/N."

You blushed and waved back. "Hi Loki."

The younger prince then turned, walked to Tony's stash of alcohol and found himself a glass.

You smiled to yourself. He ignored everyone in the room and said 'hello' to you. Only you. It felt good being noticed.

You felt stares on yourself. Everyone looking at you. Clint smirked and whispered something to Steve. Both of them smirked (almost mischeviously) as they leaned against the back of the couch.

Steve licked his lips. "I dare you to tell Loki you have a crush on him."

"What? No, no way. I change my mind, I want truth."

"I may be too old for this but even I know that's not how this game works, doll," Bucky chuckled at your poor attempt to get yourself out of the dare.

"But- I can't do that, I mean.... I like him, really but not like-," you noticed Natasha raising an eyebrow at you, "-that. Oh gosh, is it obvious?" you asked as you hid your burning face in your hands.

A loud and clear 'yes' was said in unison. You groaned and pulled your knees towards your chest hiding you even more. "This is bad guys. I can't tell him."

"A dare is a dare, you have to."

"But I can't! I can be glad a god, and a bookworm one, considers me his friend. With admitting my true feelings to him I risk looosing him for good!"

Thor huffed. "Loki is not mean. Well, not THAT mean at least. Besides, worse could have happened. Like that one time he and this maiden-"

"We are NOT discussing his previous love life infront of her!" Natasha interrupted Thor's story.

As they started to argue Clint smiled at you and started signing: *I may be deaf, but I'm not blind. I can see it in his eyes. He likes you and I doubt he will reject you. There is something pure between you two, would be a shame if not explored and deepened. * he winked at you as he signed the word "deepened".

His encouraging words helped you sooth your anxiety. He was right. There is something between you, you just aren't sure if that something is romantic.

You took a deep breath. "Okay, I'm going."

You smirked secretely when all they could see was your back. Oh, you are going to tell him, but in your way.

You found Loki sitting at a bar, book on the table, a glass of wine in his hand. You sat on a chair next to him and tapped his shoulder. "I thought you don't drink," you gestured at his drink.

He chuckled. "Just because I can't get drunk from midgardian alcohol doesn't mean I can't enjoy their taste. Do you want some?" he held out his glass to you.

You put a hand on his own and pushed the glass away. "No, thank you."

You heard a cough behind your back. Those bastards must be watching. Time to confess.

"Actually, Loki I came here because I got a dare."

"And what is that?"

You cracked your knuckles and signed out: *I love you Loki*

You made sure it was visible enough for the audience behind you. From the sound of facepalms and groans, they saw it crystal clear.

Loki on the other hand was completely confused. "Eeeh, they dared you to move your hands in my presence? How is that embarrassing? They clearly never played a REAL embarrassing game."

You shrugged. "A dare is a dare. I did it, now it's my turn. Want to help with my revenge?" you tried doing his signature smirk.

He grinned. "I would love to, my dear."

~

Few days passed since you 'confessed' your feelings to Loki.

Nothing changed between you two, he was still polite and charming as ever and you were comfortable in your role of a friend.

Now when you think of it, he began touching you more, not in a creepy way. He also started to make you cups of tea or hot chocolate whenever you visited or when he accidentally brusged his hand along your cold one. He let you borrow his books and when you returned them he eagerly asked you about your opinion.

Maybe something has changed. Maybe, just maybe, he started catching feelings for you too.

Your mind wandered to Loki again just as you were unlocking door to your apartment after a long day at work. You sighed, taking your clothes off and planing to sleep until it's time to sleep for real.

A giant bouquet of red roses on your kitchen table surprised you. You jumped as you heard Loki's voice behind you. "I just couldn't come bare handed now, could I?"

"Loki! What are you doing here? How did you get here?"

He scratched the back of his head. "Sorry. I had to see you."

Your heart sped up. "R-really? Well, that's nice but you could've just called, you know?"

"I still have to ask Tony to get me on of those phones. Listen, I.... do you remember that night, when you played truth or dare and you had to move your hands in front of me?"

You smiled at the memory. Everyone was so annoyed you tricked them. Loki would probably be proud of you. If he knew.

"Yes, I do. What about it?"

"Well, uh- could you do it again?" he asked with, what was it? Shyness in his voice?

"Oh, okay," you said and your hands and fingers spelled out your confession once more.

Loki smiled at you softly. He raised his hands and started signing *I love you too Y/N, I have for a long time. Can we, perhaps, be in a relationship? * he dropped his hands and looked at you hopefully.

You couldn't believe your eyes. He knew how to sign? Since when?

"I've been learning ever since that 'truth or dare' night happened. I wanted to know if your dare wasn't putting a silent curse on me."

You stared up at him. "Did I ask that out loud?"

"No, but you had it written all over your face," he chuckled and tucked stray hair from your eyes. "So, now that we know how the other one feels, can I kiss you?"

As much as you wanted to say yes, you had a different idea. "Even though I enjoy the effort you put into the confession, could you say it out loud? You know, just to be sure," you smirked.

Loki chuckled. "I know I fell in love with the right person. I love you darling."

You stood on your toes and your nose brushed his. "I love you too," you softly pecked his lips. His hands held onto your waist as your own snaked around his neck.

When you two parted he rested his forhead on yours.

"Loki?"

"Yes dear?"

"Can you stay here and cuddle with me? I'm incredibly tired."

You felt his lips on your cheek as he led you towards your couch. "I would love nothing more."

[flying-nightwing]

Damn Him

Hi, this is average af but I needed to post something. You’ll probably be disappointed lmao. Anyway, enjoy some Dick Grayson content!

More on my masterlist, pinned as a top post!

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader

Word count: 4798

Warnings: None

Summary: Dick Grayson never seems to say the right thing around you, and it’s not quite for the reason you initially thought

You looked up from your book when your cellphone vibrated on your desk beside you. You were in the midst of studying for your last exam of the semester, so you had your phone on a strict do not disturb schedule, which meant it remained on 24/7. Your notifications were blocked for any social media, text or calls you might receive, well, except for your one emergency contact: Bruce Wayne. He knew he was supposed to contact you only if he had no other choice but ask for your help, and never had he even used that card ever since you knew him. Reluctantly, you put down you book and marker to switch them for your phone. Turning on the screen, you ignored the various hidden notifications, focusing only on the single line that stared back at you.

Call me when you can - B.

Sighing, you unlocked your phone and pressed the contact name, then the phone icon next to it. It rang twice before Bruce picked up.

"(Y/N), how are you?"

"A bit stressed out, but it could be worse" You replied truthfully. "What's up?"

"I hope you know I wouldn't do this if I had any other solution" He began. "But I need your help on a recon mission, almost all my effective got busted last night"

"Oh my, are they okay?" You frowned with concern, even if he couldn't see you.

"Yes, don't worry" He said, "I'll explain in person, that is if you agree to come. I'd understand if you refused, though"

You rubbed the bridge of your nose and closed your eyes for a second. You owed a lot to Bruce, and since it was a simple recon stakeout, you could take one or two nights off to help him out. You were already ahead of schedule in your studying and confident in your knowledge of the material.

"Yeah, sure, I'll be there" You finally answered. "What time do you want me over?"

"As soon as you can"

"Aight, see ya"

You hung up the phone and put it back on your desk, observing it for a second. It had been gifted to you by Bruce after you began going on missions more regularly with the batlings, he said that way he knew for sure all communications would be secure and sheltered from hacking or government surveillance. You had to admit, having an encrypted phone was pretty neat, as it ran entirely on Wayne Enterprises servers and networks. The simple thought of not having to suffer through youtube ads was satisfactory enough on its own to justify the need for it, even if you didn't join missions as much as you used to.

You finally stood up and went to change from your yoga pants and loose tank top to black jeans and a sweater, then jumped in your car and drove to the manor. You punched in your code at the gate and took the right to the garages, where you entered a second code to open the doors. Your car was several notches under those parked there, but you had to have something less flashy as not to attract too much attention. Still, it was more than a majority of college students even had. You had to thank Bruce for that too. He wasn't your adopted father per say, since he found you a few days before your eighteenth birthday, but he still acted like a guardian and mentor for you.

You jogged down to the batcave, where you instantly spotted a chatty blonde sprawled in a seat, making wild gesture. She sprung up straight at the sound of you coming in and her face split in a wide grin. She jumped on her feet and skipped toward you.

"Hey giiiiirl" She drawled out excitedly. "Long time no see!"

"Hey Steph" You chuckled, going for the hug. "Sorry I didn't call, I have no excuses"

"Don't worry about it" She waved off with an airy laugh. She knew how busy school kept you, and how you kind of wanted to separate yourself fromthe vigilante life. "I'm just glad you're here"

"So am I" Bruce called from the computers. He gave you a subtle smile, and you nodded back to him. "It seems like we're in a bit of an impasse here"

You didn't miss the quick glare he sent to Tim and Steph, who sheepishly avoided looking back at him. It didn't seem too serious though, or the air would have drastically changed.

"Before he says anything, know it wasn't our fault" Steph hurried to say.

"We were totally ambushed by Vicky Vale" Tim nodded along."No idea what she did there, but she was, and she saw right through our disguises.We had to bolt before she exposed us"

You frowned in confusion. "Okay can someone tell me what is going on here?"

"Tim and Steph were supposed to go undercover and cozy up with the high leaders of what I have suspicions on good authority are transiting premium grade opium into the US and Europe, and are close partners to Count Vertigo" Bruce began, already exhausted. "But as they said, Vicky Vale was somehow invited to the banquet and singled them out immediately before they could get even near the big guys"

"My magnificent blond mane attracts way too much attention, I'm afraid" Steph sighed sadly, making you chuckle. "It's a curse, babes. I tell ya"

"Keep telling yourself that, Stephi" A new voice came from the top of the stairs. You both wanted suddenly to go back to your books as a big part of why you barely tag along on missions anymore skipped down the stairs. Damn Dick Grayson, damn him. "We all know covert missions are not your strong point"

"I'm gonna kill you in your sleep, Grayson" She smiled sweetly at him.

"No, because you suck at being subtle" He returned the grin, just as sweetly if not more. He ruffled her hair as he passed by. "What's up Timbo"

He hummed something unintelligible, flipping his brother off. Dick laughed, then almost added something when he finally noticed you. His laughter died down and his eyes widened, and suddenly he looked uncomfortable. "Oh, you're here"

"So it seems" You replied as flatly as he spoke. It wasn't new, you had never known how to act around each other. Did you hate him? Of course not, you had absolutely no reason to. Did you consider him your friend? Hard to say. All you knew was that any and every encounter you had with Dick Grayson was awkward. You got along with Tim just fine, and even Jason when he was still around. You loved Cass and Duke, and you even managed to get on Dami's good side, or most of the time anyway. But Dick remained a mystery to you, one that had eluded you for years now. You didn't understand a single thing about that boy, and you doubted you ever would. You've had conversations before, loads of them, and you had no doubt he would make an amazing friend, but you couldn't seem to get past the stage of acquaintances.

Which was frankly disappointing, because you had been instantly attracted by his charms and easygoing nature when you first met. You had been drawn to him, and you couldn't try and pretend you hadn't pinned after him for the longest time. But you hit a wall when his behaviour began changing wildly around you, right around the time you slipped flirts every now and then to let him know that you were into him. Right now, you were just really over his poor attempts at pretending he never noticed it happen.

"So" Bruce spoke up, breaking the tension that had suddenly arisen in the cave. "Tomorrow night we'll have a new opening to try and get to them, hopefully without interruption this time. I've taken a look at the list, and no reporter was on it. We should be good"

"But Tim and Steph already got busted" You pointed out. "They'll know something is up if they show up again"

"That's why they will be seen at the Gotham Charity Auction at the museum" He explained, meeting your eyes. "That's why I called you up. You'll be going undercover with Dick as husband and wife"

"What?" Dick coughed almost immediately. "We're not–" He laughed nervously. "Us? As a married couple? This is ridiculous"

Your head turned sharply toward him, your eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Wow, thanks a lot for the vote of confidence" You snapped. "I didn't know being my fake husband was such a terrible perspective"

"No– Wait– That's not–" He stuttered, his eyes wide. "I didn't mean it that way"

"Sure" You rolled your eyes, before turning to Bruce again. He had an unreadable expression on his face, more unreadable than usually anyway. Tim and Steph stood there in stunned silence, not daring to speak up. "What's the briefing?"

Bruce glanced in between you and Dick, before looking back at you again. "Félix Lachance and Stella Gustavsson, they're the one you need to befriend. Since you're not known to the public, it'll be easier for Dick to pass under the radar and not cause an incident like last time"

"We get it, B" Tim muttered under his breath as Bruce passed you the files with the pictures.

"I need you to retrieve any information you can" He continued, ignoring Tim's comment. "Names of business partners, location of transactions, dates, anything, you know the gig. Your occupation and alias if you want one will be at your discretion, I trust you can deal with that. As always you need to be extremely careful as not to alert them, because this is our last chance to get the critical Intel we need to take this down. So I'll need you at your A game, both of you"

This was a warning and you knew it. He let you know more or less subtly to put aside whatever was happening between you and behave like adults. You straightened your back and took a deep breath, getting your head in the right mindset.

"Alright, I'll be ready for tomorrow night" You nodded as you gathered the files. "Can I stay over tonight? There is no point in trying to study now"

"You don't need to ask, (Y/N), you're always welcome here" Bruce said, a hint of fondness in his voice. He always liked having you around, he said your presence tamed the boys. You nodded and made your way upstairs, finding the room you claimed as your own for about a year, and the same you always came back to when you stayed the night.

You went to the drawers, fishing out old training clothes you had left behind. You weren't sure all those were yours, they were probably mixed with pieces you stole from Steph and Cass. In return, they probably did also steal from your drawer occasionally, balancing it all out. You were about to change into something comfy for bed when a soft knock at your door caught your attention. You walked to it and tentatively opening the door, your expression flattening when you saw how it was.

"Yes?"

"Hey um" Dick scratched the back of his neck. "I just wanted to say, I'm sorry it came out that way. I just meant that it would be, you know, weird"

You stared at him blankly. "You're not helping your case here, Dick"

"Shit, that's not what I mean either!" He hurried to say, realizing his mistake. But you were already closing the door. "Please (Y/N)–"

"Get some rest Dick" You said as you pushed the door closed. You sighed and shook your head before adding in a whisper, "God knows we'll need it"

------

You had done covert missions before, but this was the first time you were operating in such conditions. You finished retouching your hair, staring at yourself in the mirror, wondering whether or not it was more expensive than your total life income. The floor length champagne coloured dress was stunning, tailored to your form and just sparkly enough to let you shine through the design. You suspected the shoes were made especially to fit with the dress, as they resembled its lace and belt colour. You were sporting on top of that a heavy diamond necklace with matching earrings, proving the general high cost of the outfit. Your comm was carefully tucked in your ear, functional and well hidden.

"Oh my my" Steph whistled lowly. "If I wasn't dating Timbers I would date you"

You laughed. "This is the outfit talking. You haven't seen me tired and puffy in sweatpants just yet"

"Grump, just take the damn compliment" She playfully poked your exposed shoulder.

"Alright alright, thanks" You rolled your eyes. "Since it's gonna be the only one coming from this household anyway"

Steph wiggled her eyebrows. "Wouldn't be so sure about that" She said in a sing-song voice. "Your fake boyfriend may have some thoughts too"

"Ha" You snorted, walking out of your room with her following at your side. "It's good, that you're wishful thinking. The boy can't seem to talk to me without insulting me lately"

"Trust me, he won't be able to resist to this bombshell" She gestured at your form. "Dick's a people pleaser, and looking like a whole five course meal like that, you sure are easy to please if you want my opinion"

You shook your head, a small grin on your face. Steph had always been your favourite for a reason. She knew how you felt about Dick, but she never meddled. Well, not more than she typically would anyway, and not enough to cross your boundaries. And even then, she had no explanation either for his behaviour. You finally reached the foyer, where Bruce was dressed casually, sleeves rolled up and without a tie, talking to an all dressed up Dick, his hair now dark red and with almost black contact lenses. Your heels clicking on the stairs was what snapped their attention to you; Bruce nodding at his choice of dress for you, and Dick, his mouth slightly agape. You felt Steph gently but excitedly elbowing your ribs.

"Ah, (Y/N), there you are" Bruce said. "I'm glad to see the dress fits well"

"Yeah" Dick tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. "You look okay"

You blinked in disbelief as you heard Steph's facepalm behind you. You closed your eyes and exhaled through your nose, while Bruce shook his head slightly at his son.

"Yikes" Tim made his presence known. You shared this one word mood immensely right about now. "Way to go D"

Dick cleared his throat, trying to push back the embarrassment blush creeping up his cheeks. "Uh, shall we go?"

"That would be preferable, yes" Bruce replied, making Steph choke and cover he laughter with a cough. The way he said it was clearly meant to be a jab to his son's tactless attitude. "Be careful"

"Of course" You smiled tightly and all but dragged Dick outside. You'd take one of Bruce's luxury car to get there, and it was already waiting in the driveway. Dick pressed the door button and slowly, they lifted up to let you in. You slid in the passenger seat without waiting for Dick's help and you kept your eyes on the windshield in from of you as he began to drive. The ride was silent until he decided to speak again, tentatively.

"It's nice to see you all dressed up, for once" He said, still clearly not thinking of his choice of words more carefully. "It's different. A good different!"

For once? Was he serious?

You audibly sighed. "I'm begging you to just stop talking"

"What?" He objected, confused. "What did I say wrong this time– Oh"

"Yeah" You replied, your tone clipped and dry.

"I'm an idiot" He mumbled under his breath. That you could agree on, but you didn't voice it out loud.

He couldn't pull into the driveway fast enough. You slipped on your fake engagement ring as Dick stopped in front of the awaiting valet, doing himself the same thing. You both had a recording device slipped in your clothes, and the ring allowed you to turn it on and off at will, as well as the comm in your ear. You turned both off for the awaiting scan at the entrance, as not to emit detectable frequencies.

"Ready?" He asked, and you gave him a firm nod. He got out first and rounded the car, opening your door for you as he would be expected to by this particular crowd. You took his offered hand to climb out and linked your arm to his as he gave the keys to the valet in exchange for a ticket. He left a tip before you walked inside, registering to the guest list. You passed the security checkpoint without a hassle and found yourself in the hall where the auction was held. You turned on your comm and recording device again.

"Recon first, then regroup?" You suggested in a mutter as you were both visually scanning the room.

"Yep" He replied shortly. "B, copy?"

"Crystal clear" 

"Good. Let's go"

While Dick headed to the bar, you opted for the art collection on display, pretending to scout for potential pieces to bid on. But your eyes weren't on the expensive paintings and statues, but moved around the room to spot some VIP lounge or area where the big shots might hang out at. There was a room where attendees came and went, but you shrugged it off as there wasn't enough security for the profile you were searching for. You paused your recon for small talk here and there, and you were in the middle of a casual chat about painted landscapes with an older gentleman when Dick rejoined your side, handing you a drink.

"There you are honey" He smiled sweetly, his unusually dark brown eyes reflecting the light from the chandelier.

"Joey, my love, allow me to introduce you to Sir Fernand Bretworth of Essex" His alias flew out of your mouth naturally, then you took a small sip of your drink. Non alcoholic, nice thinking. "We were discussing impressionism and its influence on modern art"

You wanted to smirk at the clueless look Dick gave you. He was a prodigy in a lot of things, but art wasn't one. It was more Damian's thing, or Tim's if he tried hard enough, but definitely not Dick's. Take that now. 

"Ah, yes..." He replied slowly. "Fascinating indeed"

"Alright" You let out a small, cover up laugh as your hand rested on his bicep. "My husband has little interest in art, my apologies"

"No offence taken" He chuckled. "I'll leave you two, my wife must be looking for me. An old fool like me gets easily distracted!"

You laughed along with him until he was out of earshot. Then you dropped your hand and turned to him. "Noticed anything?"

"Yeah, there is a guarded room with special access" He said as you walked deeper into the crowd not to look suspicious. "Only owned of a special pass can go in, and the guards are very thorough"

"Great" You breathed. "Now let's hope out lovebirds will come out to mingle"

"As it turns out..." He trailed off, and instinctively, you began turning your head toward where his gaze lead. He immediately redirected your head back to him with a firm, but gentle touch on your cheek. His hand remained there for about three seconds longer than necessary, until he realized what he did and retracted his arm. You could have almost enjoyed it if he didn't look like he was touched by literal fire. "Don't look"

"Sorry" You mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

"... They got out, they're talking to people" He informed you, ignoring what just went down. "You go for Stella, I'll take Felix. Remember, friendly but not suspicious. Sweet talk your way into spilling the beans"

"I know" You bit back, your voice low. "Not my first mission, remember? I know what to do"

"I was just reminding you"

"Yeah, I got that" You scoffed. "If you don't trust me, just say so, it'll save you trouble of babying me"

"Come on, that's not–"

He began arguing, but you walked away before you could slip up and say his real name. It would give him one more reason to come down on you like you were a beginner in need of guidance. You were rusty, not stupid. You didn't need him insulting your undercover talents as well. You stopped in front of a beautiful emerald necklace that had a start bid of ten millions dollars and took a long sip of your drink, now kind of bummed it was non alcoholic. But that very detail was probably why you felt a presence approaching you from behind, giving you a few seconds to compose yourself and sweep your frustration under the rug.

"Trouble in paradise?"

You turned around, surprised. It looked like the voice made you jump, when it was in fact the nature of the question that threw you off, as well as the person who had spoken. Before you could ask, the Stella Gustavsson smiled warmly and nodded to where Dick had been seconds earlier.

"I saw what happened" She began, and your heart skipped a beat, hoping she hadn't overheard. "Those frustrated hands gesture are all too familiar. What did he do?"

You relaxed slightly, for now. "We've been having trouble lately, well, more than usually" You explained with a little complicit cock of your head. She seemed to get it. You, on the other hand, knew Dick was hearing everything on his comm, so you decided to go for it. "He's acting... Weird. Can't seem to talk to me without irritating me, whether on purpose or not. I'm sorry, I'm venting to a stranger, I can't imagine how it must look look like.

"Don't worry about it dear, I asked" She winked, extending her hand. "I'm Stella"

"Aleka" You shook her hand.

"Your dress is stunning, by the way!" She exclaimed. "Which designer?”

You froze for a second before shrugging. "No idea, my designer got it for me" You brushed off. "As long as it looks good, I don't care where it comes from"

"Amen" She said, taking a sip of her champagne. "Although, I need to know the name of your designer. They have amazing taste, and I'm looking for a new one for myself"

Oh shit.

"It's B" You replied instantly.

"Bee?"

"Yeah" You nodded, and she looked at you incredulously. "I mean, that's what we all call him. I'm sure he has a name, but I pay him to dress me, not to know his personal life"

"Harsh, (Y/N)" Bruce said in your ear, and you remembered he had been listening to everything. "But nice save"

She laughed, unaware of the comments from Batman himself. "That is very true. How have I not met you before? I feel we have a lot in common"

"I sincerely have no idea" You replied, adding a little gasp of disbelief.

"You're different from this crowd, I can feel it" She kept going on as you started walking side by side in the exposition room. "Everyone here only cares about petty, trivial things. You have a head on your shoulders, you're smart. Too bad your man can't seem to see what's in front of him"

You sighed in agreement to hide the fist pump of victory that threatened to come up. Just like that, you had won Stella over. "I don't know what to do about it. I've tried to talk to him, but it just makes it worse"

"But have you tried to make him jealous?" She suggested with a perfectly shaped eyebrow raised. "There are plenty of young men around, or older bachelors if you're into that. Flirt with them, make sure he sees you, he'll come running, take my word"

"It won't work, he's not–" Even my boyfriend, you were about to say, but you saved your fall just on time. Still, you could practically see Dick's glare in the back of your head at the almost slip up. "Jealous. He's not a jealous man, he's very confident and secure"

"What a shame" She drawled out, going for her champagne again. "Here's what you can do then. Go to him, take him by the neck and french kiss him like there is no tomorrow”

You choked on your saliva as she watched you with a mischievous grin. "Excuse me?"

"It's guaranteed to work, darling" She lifted her shoulder in an elegant shrug. "Then you hold him off. You'll thank me later tonight when you're back at home, just wait and see"

You were about to argue some more, but her insisting stare told you she wasn't just going to let it go. So you scanned the crowd for Dick, spotting him casually excusing himself from a conversation group, going for a refill at the bar. You reached him and grabbed him by the elbow, bringing him face to face with you. You made sure your back was to Stella before beginning to explain the situation.

"I heard" He told you in a mutter, making sure his lips were unreadable under Stella's stare from the distance.

"Then you know what she expects" You sighed, slipping your hands behind his neck. "It doesn't have to be deep, just convincing. Can you do this without grimacing?"

You thought he would stumble into some weak apology, or say something clever. He did neither, instead dived straight for your lips so quickly it was you who was taken by surprise. Naturally, all you could do is kiss him back and try to keep up with him. At some point you thought he would break off, but you weren't prepared for him to actually deepen the kiss. He wasn't letting you go, and it made you dizzy in all the best ways. Let's say you were thankful for his arm around your waist right about now. Finally, you still had to breathe, so you parted reluctantly.

"What was that for?" You asked, your eyes still dazed.

"An apology for irritating you unintentionally" He grinned boyishly, for probably the first time ever directed at you. "I'm an idiot"

"Can confirm" You replied, bringing him down on your lips again. This time, it was a bit shorter, but the spark was still very much present. "You should have done this a long time ago"

"I know" He nodded, his head slightly down and his puppy dog eyes shining even underneath the dark contact lenses. "You're a bit intimidating, I didn't know how to act"

You let out a loud laugh at his confession. "You're kidding"

He pouted.

"Me?" You repeated. "But you're– You're you!"

"Well, duh" He chuckled. "You've got me all tangled in here," He pointed at his chest. "Made me nervous all the time"

You melted just a little bit at his little display, before remembering doing this was a specialty of his. You were just not used to be on the receiving end of it. "You're lucky you're cute, and that I'm already sold on you"

The bright grin returned.

"As heartwarming as this moment is, please focus on the task at hand" Bruce's stern voice echoed in your head, and you were suddenly reminded your conversation had been integrally transmitted to him.

"Right, sorry" Dick apologized sheepishly.

"See, I told you"

This time, you were taken by surprise by Stella walking on you. Even Bruce's intervention hadn't quite brought you back to reality. Damn Dick Grayson, damn him. You turned around, trying to hide your flustered state and instead focusing on the tall gentleman at her side. Must be Felix Lachance, you thought.

"It works every time" She added, sipping from a new glass of champagne.

"You were right" You let out an airy laugh. "Stella, this is my husband Joey Moore. Joey, this is my new friend Stella"

They shook hands before she introduced her husband to the both of you. You already knew his name, but you both pretended you didn't for the sake of your covers.

"Nice to meet you two" Félix smiled politely.

"Hey, would you like to go for a drink after this?" Stella asked. "I sure would like to get to know you two better"

Dick and you exchanged a glance, knowing you had locked the target. Acquiring intel from now on would only be a piece of cake, the base was laid for further actions. You smiled, returning your glance to Stella.

"That would be absolutely lovely"

[milazka]

𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 | 𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 : 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 & 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 𝟑𝐤+

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 : —

𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 : 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐚 𝐭𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐧

𝐚/𝐧 : 𝐢 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 ����𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞 𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠. 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐢𝐭 ! 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐢 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐢��𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐢’𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬...

─── °• ❀ ───

When I first saw you, I saw love

And the first time you touched me, I felt love

And after all this time

You're still the one I love

The stars were twinkling in the indigo sky, not a single cloud was covering them. Some firebrands were trying to rise towards the sky but were dying along the way. The warm flames of the fire made your cheeks redden, although, the bottle of cheap beer in your hand must have been partly to blame as well. It was normal in the Outer Banks to see fourteen-year-olds drinking alcohol, especially on the Cut.

Sitting on one of the logs, a smile slipped on your lips as you saw your friend Pope running towards the sea, completely naked. A few of your friends whistled at the boy who let out a scream as he entered the salty water. John B had the brilliant idea to play truth or dare with the Pogues and a few other people from The Cut. You all had finished school today and it was a way of celebrating the beginning of summer.

Like she always did, Kiara acted up like the ‘mama’ of the group and got up to threw her beach towel to Pope so he could dry himself before returning into the circle around the campfire.

“Y/n, truth or dare?” A boy named David asked you.

“Dare.” You answered before you took a sip of beer without taking your eyes off him.

“I dare you to kiss JJ.”

You spit out your beer, splashing John B on the way. You were expecting everything, but not this. JJ was your best friend, you couldn't kiss him, it would have been weird.

“I can’t.“

“Oh c’mon, Y/n! Don’t be a prude.” David shouted to provoke you.

You've never been a coward in your life and this wasn't the night you were going to start being one. Everyone started to cheer you, shouting and clapping their hands while you made your way to the other side of the fire where JJ was sit on a log. Your eyes met his ocean-blue eyes that were sparkling from the number of beer cans he had drunk since the beginning of the night. You knelt on the sand with your hands resting on JJ's knees so you wouldn't lose your balance. The alcohol flowing in your veins was taking effect and you were definitely tipsy.

“It’s just a kiss, Y/n/n.” JJ said, cupping your face with his hands as he leaned down. “It means nothing.”

His lips gently touched yours, almost as if he was afraid of hurting you with them. He tasted like a mix of weed and beer, a taste you would have normally hated, but which kind of turned you on in the moment. You felt the tip of his thumb flattering your skin as his tongue slipped into your mouth to move in sync with yours. A feeling of emptiness settled inside you when you separated from each other, completely out of breath. Your eyes met his and for a second, everything around you seemed to have stopped.

─── °• ❀ ───

Lying on the dock, your head resting on JJ's stomach as he ran his fingers through your hair, you couldn't help but think back to the way you felt when your lips collided the other night.

"What's on your mind?" JJ asked you, clearly seeing something was bothering you by the way you were chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Nothing.”

“Y/n, your my best friend and you’re also the worst liar that I know.” He giggled, making you bless your poor lying talents.

“You remember when we kissed yesterday?”

“Yeah.” He whispered, placing his arm behind his head so he could lay rest on it. “It doesn’t change anything between us, if it’s what bothering you.”

"No no, it's not that..." You replied, playing with the edge of your hoodie.

“Then what is it? You know you can tell me everything, Y/n.”

"I don't want it to mean nothing because it was my first kiss." You whispered, willfully neglecting to tell him you had found out that your feelings towards him were more than just friendly.

“Really? I thought you kissed John B during seven minutes in heaven.” JJ said, surprised.

“We made everyone believe that we did because he wanted to make one of the girls jealous." You explained, sitting cross-legged on the wooden dock to face JJ.

“Well, I’m glad I was your first kiss, it’s definitely a much better experience to kiss me than John B.” He laughed, pulling you into a hug.

At that moment, you couldn't be more grateful that the lights were all off because your cheeks were peony red. While still in JJ's arms, you made a promise to yourself that you would never let your feelings for him get in the way of your friendship because it was the most precious thing you had.

Looks like we made it

Look how far we've come my baby

We mighta took the long way

We knew we'd get there someday

Like most days of the summer, you were sitting at the front of the HMS Pogue driven by John B. He came to pick you up first since you were the one who lived closest to the Chateau. Since his father's disappearance, you had gotten closer; you were there to listen to him when he needed it or to comfort him when he cried late at night. This had caused you and JJ to drift apart a little, but it was better that way, especially for your feelings towards him. He was still your best friend, the most important person in your life, but over the past few months, girls had become his top priority and your heart was breaking a little more each time he told you and the Pogues about his steamy nights.

JJ was sitting on the side of the boat, rolling one of his joint. It was probably the moment when the boy was most concentrated, you had never seen him frown his eyes brows like this during an exam. John B slowed the boat down as you approached Pope's dock. Dressed in his infamous cap and barely buttoned shirt, he was sweeping the quay under his father's stern gaze.

“Pope, get in, we’re goin fishin!” You exclaimed as you slid your sunglasses over the tip of your nose.

“I can't, I'm grounded because I came home after curfew yesterday.” The boy pouted, glancing at his father.

“Okay, we’ll see you later!” You replied before JJ or John B spoke, not wanting to get your friend in more trouble.

Once you were far enough into the marsh, John B dropped the anchor in the water. The sun was particularly hot that day, obliging you to take off all of your clothes and just be in a black bikini. JJ also took off his sleeveless shirt, exposing you to the sight of his tanned and perfectly cut body. Thanks to your sunglasses, you were able to check him out without him noticing. Your eyes landed on the scratches on his back when he turned away from you to grab a beer in the cooler.

“Did you sleep with a tiger last night?” John B mocked him when he saw the scratches.

"Dude, she was so into me! I made her come twice in-" JJ started but was cut off by your forced cough. “What?”

"Nothing, the beer didn't go down well." You said innocently, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to run down the corners of your eyes.

The blond boy kept telling you and John B about his night with the wild girl, never forgetting to mention all the details. A sharp pain appeared in your chest, as if your heart was being torn in two, when he said he was planning on bringing her on a date soon. It was too much, you couldn't take it anymore.

“Fuck, my mom just texted me that she needs me at home.” You lied. “Could you drop me at my dock?”

"Yes, I'll pull up the anchor and we will be good to go." John B kindly smiled at you, knowing that it was just an excuse to get away from JJ, but didn't said a word about it.

─── °• ❀ ───

The trees seemed to be moving on either side of the road which did not look as straight as usual. Everything was a bit blurry around you until you blinked a few times. The almost empty rum bottle in your hand was the cause of this. Since you came home this afternoon, you'd drowned your emotions in alcohol, the best way to stop feeling anything according to a reliable source; you. You don't remember how or when you decided to leave your cozy bed to end up on the dirt road leading to the Chateau. When you reached the front of the house, you made your way to the backyard, taking a few sips of the cursed liquid that burned your throat.

"Y/n? What are you doing here?" JJ's voice reached your ears, almost making you drop your bottle on the floor.

You were standing on the stairs of the house porch so your back was facing him since he was lying in one of the hammocks. Your hand tightened around the glass bottle as you brought it to your lips one more time.

“I-i’m here to see JB…” You managed to say, despite the sob that was caught in your throat.

“You know he’s at Sarah’s house, he told you this afternoon.” JJ said.

You could hear his footsteps getting closer to where you were, making your heart rhythm increase.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asked you gently putting his hands on your bare shoulder.

“Don’t call me that!” You exploded in anger as you pulled away from his embrace.

“What the fuck Y/n?! Are you drunk? Did I do something wrong?” JJ questioned you, his frowning eyebrows reflecting his misunderstanding.

“Did you do something wong? DID YOU DO SOMETHING WRONG?! You are fucking blind, Maybank.” You shouted at him, staring at him with guns in your eyes. “I've been repressing my feelings for two years, two fucking years! Every time I see you leave with a girl after a party, my heart breaks in a million pieces. And when you talk about what you do with girls, I envy them because I wish it was me. I wish it was me you were talking about with stars in your eyes, I wish it was me you were kissing so passionately, I wish it was me you would hold in your arms.”

You were breathing heavily, tears were running down your cheeks and you couldn't control them. JJ was speechless, shocked by what you just revealed to him.

“Y/n…”

“Don’t say it J. I can’t take it anymore.” You whined, not wanting to hear him reject you.

Without trying to glance at him, you walked towards the main street, ashamed of what you had just said to him. You couldn't take it back, you would have to deal with it once you'll have sober up and that wasn't appealing at all. It was once you were walking in the middle of the main road that he stood in front of you, putting his hands on your shoulders to keep you from moving. Head bent down towards the ground, you didn't have the strength to lift it up to face his gaze.

“Please, look at me.” JJ whispered, softly placing his fingers under your chin to lift it up.

Your eyes blurred by the tears met his ocean gaze through which you could get lost for hours. A soft smile made his way to the corner of his lips, those damn lips you had dreamt about more than once.

“I’m sorry for hurting you, I never thought that you had feelings for me.” He apologized, rubbing his thumb on your cheek drenched by the tears.

"I don't want to lose you, Jay. Just forget what I said and let's go back to being best friends." You sighed as you wiped the corner of your eyes with the back of your sleeve.

“I can’t, Y/n, I can’t forget about what you just said because I’m fucking in love with you!” He exclaimed, a tear running down his cheek. “I never said anything because I didn't want to ruin our friendship. I never go further than one date with the girls I sleep with because my heart has always been taken by you.”

You didn't waste one more second before you crushed your lips against his. Your hands made their way to the back of his neck while his hands slipped automatically to your hips, pulling you closer to him. It was passionate and wild, you'd been waiting for this moment for so long, you had needed this moment for so long. His tongue requested access to your mouth and came dancing sensually with yours. A grunt slipped out of his mouth when you bit his lower lip while running your fingers through his blond hair that were still a bit wet from his surfing session with John B. Breathing heavily, you split up briefly before he hugged you tightly, your head lying on his chest that was rising promptly.

“I’m never letting you go again, sweetheart.”

They said, "I bet they'll never make it"

But just look at us holding on

We're still together still going strong

Tears were flowing down your cheeks and there was nothing you could do about it. The sight of your boyfriend shocked face while you were being handcuffed like him for a crime you didn't commit was destroying him. You both were in the wrong place at the wrong time, but the cops wouldn't listen. Being from the Cut had its good sides, but also its bad sides and being constantly doubted by the police was one of them.

“Get in the car.” Ordered Deputy Shoupe, opening the back door of his car.

You didn't even dare to think about what your parents were going to say when they would found out that you we're being held in custody. They had never approved of your relationship with JJ, telling you he would bring you more trouble than love. Your father always said that your relationship wasn't going to last, that it was temporary because you would realize soon that JJ wasn't good enough for you.

Once you were sitting on the uncomfortable little bed of the cell, you let your head fall back against the cemented wall. Eyelids close, you let a long sigh exit; you couldn't believe that what was supposed to be a cute date with your boyfriend turned into nightmare when you ran into Rafe and his two pocket dogs.

“Baby?” Your boyfriend’s voice echoed from the cell beside yours. “I’m sorry for getting you in trouble.”

“Hey, none of this is your fault, love.” You rectified him as you made your way to the grid and passed your hand through it.

JJ's hand slipped into yours, squeezing it to comfort you a little. Just his touched made you feel a bit better and more confident.

“We’re gonna make it, Jay, we’re gonna prove them wrong.”

You're still the one I run to

The one that I belong to

You're still the one I want for life

You're still the one that I love

The only one I dream of

You're still the one I kiss good night

Morpheus arms were about to grab you as you let yourself go to sleep. You were somewhere between the world of dreams and reality when a boom in your window made you jump. Another knock against your window forced you to get up quickly, not wanting to wake your parents who were sleeping in the next room. You narrowly avoided a worn black boot by bending down quickly after opening your window.

“JJ? What the hell?” You whispered loudly at the sight of your boyfriend standing on the ground down your window.

“Get dressed and join me.” He simply said to you with his stupid smile. “And don’t ask questions.”

You quickly put on a pair of mom jeans, your eternal orange converses and a hoodie that belonged to JJ. The scent of your boyfriend soaked in the cotton made you smile stupidly; it was your favorite odor. Without making any noise, you closed the front door behind you and went straight to JJ who was already on his bike, helmet in hand.

“Where are you taking me?” You asked as you passed the helmet over your head.

“You’ll see. Now, hop on, baby and hold on tight.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist, using the opportunity to feel his contracted muscles over tin shirt. The wind was pounding against your skin, waking you up. Riding with JJ on his bike was one of your favorite thing to do, it felt like the world was yours.

You loosen your embrace around his waist when he decelerated in the middle of nowhere. The road was only lit by an old lamppost, no sound could be heard besides the sound of your own heartbeat.

“What are we doing here?” You asked the blond boy as he grabbed your hand.

He didn't say a word, leading you to the middle of the road where he turned to face you.

“Exactly one year ago today, we shared our first real kiss here.” He smiled at you. “Happy one year anniversary, my love.”

Your heart melted when you heard him say those words. You tiptoed yourself so you could press your lips against his. He pulled you closer to him, his hands sliding under his hoodie that you were wearing. The coldness of his hands against your warm skin sent shivers down your spine. You rested you forehead on his, getting lost inside his blue eyes.

“I love you, Jay.”

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Spells and Sneezes

I needed to try some Fantasy sickfic, and also practice my “stuffy talk”, so have ~3700 words of a very sneezy, stuffed up sorcerer. This post was inspired by a prompt I saw from this site long ago about a tall, thin, sneezy warlock, but I can’t find that post again to link it to save my life. So generic thanks to whoever came up with the prompt!

“Hehhtt’SSCCHHEEEWW!!

The tickle he thought he’d stifled exploded out of him unexpectedly as a massive, wet sneeze. The tall, young sorcerer groaned and wiped his dripping nose wearily with an already sodden handkerchief. His entire workbench was now covered in the spray. He sighed dejectedly, glancing out the window, the weak afternoon sunlight offering little comfort.

 He had been stuck on this spell for days now, and the deadline was fast approaching. And this wasn’t just any order, this was for the KING. He was preparing to wage war and was looking for chainmail woven with a defense spell for 3,000 of his top officers. The king had chosen him to fill this order because defense spells had been his specialty during his apprenticeship, but for some reason this powerful chain was toying with him. If he could get just one prototype together, making the rest would be the work of a day. But he had not been able to make even one yet.

He groaned again, wincing as he continued to wipe his raw, dripping nose. His head hurt. His throat hurt. His eyes hurt. His chest hurt from all the coughing he’d been doing. But he couldn’t rest until this was done.

He summoned the chair he had shoved aside a few minutes ago. Neither sitting nor standing seemed to help him concentrate better, so he kept going back and forth. He leaned his head in his hand and picked up his quill again, scratching sigils fruitlessly.

A merry knock startled him and he leapt to his feet, his lithe frame quivering. For a moment he imagined it was the king’s advisors coming to collect the spell a week early. Instead, his younger sister poked her head in, waving cheerily. 

“Brother, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost! Did I startle you? I’m sorry. It has been some weeks since I’ve seen you, and I wanted to check on you.”

She bustled in, her cleaning cart clattering behind her and parking itself by the door. Elliamina was a kitchen witch, and renowned throughout the land for her cleaning abilities, especially for never having an apprenticeship of her own. She had helped her older brother with his studies, being the more studious of the two, and had picked up some knowledge of her own, enough to make her own way in the world without formal training. 

She danced over, wrapping her arms around him warmly. She was almost a meter shorter than him, but otherwise they were nearly identical, though there was a 5 year span between them. The length of their hair was the only difference. Elmrador weakly returned her hug, his heart still pounding. 

“Good to see you, Mina. I have missed you. I’m sorry I haven’t been to see you, but I’ve been quite busy with orders of late. I can’t visit long today though. I have much work to do.”

“Well, at least let me give your cottage a quick tidy while I’m here.” She stepped back and surveyed him, cocking her head. “You are ill, brother.” Her mouth immediately quirked down sadly.

It was a statement, not a question. He also frowned. “I am fine.”

As if only to betray him, a hoarse coughing fit snuck up on him, leaving him red and breathless. He rubbed his chest ruefully. “Or at any rate, I don’t need you fussing. I need to finish this order. It’s for the king.”

“Hm.” She looked at him skeptically. “I have the supplies to make a tonic for you. Let me give you that at least. You look miserable.”

He grunted his approval. “As long as you don’t mix it with a sleeping draught.”

“If that's what you want,” she said, rolling her eyes. She flitted back to her cart and began to mix up a simple potion. Meanwhile, he seated himself again and resumed his scribbling. Another dratted tickle was growing in his nose though, which was streaming in earnest. He mopped the drips, to no avail.

“Ah… ah… Ahhkkt’shoooooo!” His handkerchief caught only part of the spray due to how sodden and crumpled it was, and his workbench was once again covered. Mina was at his side in a moment, rubbing his back.

“Poor dear! Elm, you sound awful. You should be in bed.”

“As soon as I work this through.”

She sighed and shook her head, handing him the steaming tonic. He took it with a grateful smile and gulped it down before taking up his quill again, rubbing his hands together to warm them before he did. 

Seeing he didn’t intend to chat further, she began to clean his one room cottage. It was all he needed, just the right amount of space. He kept it cozy and neat for the most part, but when he was busy, cleaning was the last thing on his mind, which is one of the reasons she liked to visit often. She genuinely loved cleaning, especially for people she cared about. She began at the ceiling, sweeping down cobwebs and dusting the corners as she sang to herself. Elm personally thought her singing was a big component of her magic, though she denied it. 

After the ceiling, she moved to the walls and cupboards. Elm found himself watching her idly rather than working. He turned back to his papers, shaking his throbbing head, trying to clear it. The tonic seemed to be affecting his fever. He had previously been shivering in the warm room, but now he was starting to sweat.  The congestion seemed to be leaving his chest but was streaming out of his nose in earnest. 

He didn’t know where his other handkerchiefs were, so he kept using the current one, but it was getting less and less effective as his sniffles got wetter and wetter. It wasn’t long before he started sneezing, both from his overactive nose, and the dust his sister was creating. 

“Errr’sssHUUH! ErrrRIESSH’shew! Ehhhkxxt’SHEEEWW!”

 Mina threw down her duster in exasperation. “I don’t know how you can stand to keep working. *I* can hardly work with you like this!”

He shrugged petulantly, rubbing his red nose. “Well, if you weren’dt kickig ub so mbuch dusdt…”

“Oh! Is the tonic not helping? It shouldn’t make you sound like that.”

“Idt helped the cough. Bud idt mbade mby ndose worse,” he mumbled weakly.

She rolled her eyes. “That tonic works on everyone else, except stubborn sorcerers. I bet your magic is going haywire and counteracting it. Especially without the sleeping effect.”

“Thadt’s ndot mby fauldt.” He shivered and coughed softly, summoning a blanket to wrap around his shoulders as he was suddenly freezing instead of sweating.

She sighed and moved to his side again, rubbing his back some more. He leaned against her wearily.

“Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Ndo. I worgk best adt ndight.”

“Poor dear. You’re exhausted. No wonder you’re ill. What has got you so worked up?”

She glanced at the papers spread before him. “Chainmail woven with defense? Clever. Lucky you, getting an interesting project like this.”

“Idt’s driving mbe to distraction. I can’dt quide sordt it oudt.”

Her sharp eyes roved over the parchment quickly. “Your writing is terrible when you’re ill. I can hardly make it out. Ah, but here’s one of the reasons you're having trouble--half of these sigils appear to be reversed. See these here? They’re meaningless. Don’t tell me you’ve been working with them like this?”

He groaned pathetically. “They weren’dt like thadt whend I wrote themb! I ndo they weren’dt!”

She reached out and tried to feel his forehead. He batted her hand away before she could. She frowned.

“You know your magic is unpredictable when something is wrong with you, brother. My guess is you sneezed on these and they reversed themselves. You’re positively crackling with stray mana. Not to mention you’re probably feverish. You need to take some rest.”

“I can’dt. I have to deliver 3,000 of these in a weegk’s time, and I haven’dt even godden one yedt.”

“You’re not being productive like this though.”

“Ndeither are you. I thoughdt you were cleanig.”

She swatted him playfully. “See to yourself first, Elmrador, before you worry about me.”  

 Shaking her head, she reluctantly went back to her cleaning. The thin sorcerer directed his gaze back to his work, slowly fixing the reversed sigils, but he couldn’t get his eyes to stay in focus. They were so heavy. Everything was blurred around the edges. 

His head was overwhelmingly heavy too, and achingly throbbing. He let it drop to the workbench, the cool wood pleasant on his hot forehead. He let his mouth hang open and tried to breathe, letting his nose drip gently into his handkerchief.

He must have dozed off, because Elliamina’s touch startled him some moments later. He turned to look at her, his cheek still on the bench.

“Why are you fighting yourself? You’re no good to anyone like this. The project can wait.”

“Will you mbake mbe some tea?” he asked pitifully, changing the subject. 

She rubbed his back, surveying him keenly. “I’ll make you some tea if you take it in bed.”

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded, slowly pulling the blanket closer to himself as he rose and shuffled to the corner where his bed stood. He clumsily discarded his outer tunic and boots as he went, kicking them aside before falling onto the mattress and heaping blankets and pillows over himself, dozing immediately. His sister busied herself boiling the water and preparing the tea leaves. 

When it was ready, she shook him awake again and helped him sit up.

“I can do idt mbyself,” he muttered, shaking her off.

“You’re worn out enough,” she chided gently. “So let me help.”

He couldn’t argue with that. The tea was sweet and hot, the perfect temperature to start drinking immediately. But naturally, the warm liquid made his nose stream in earnest. His sister had been fussing around, fluffing his pillows and picking up his discarded clothes. When she noticed his sodden handkerchief, long past its usefulness, she quickly summoned another. He took it with a grateful smile, though the effect was somewhat ruined by his watery eyes. He blew his nose several times, but his sinuses were stopped tight, and blowing just made his head throb terribly.

Once the tea was gone and he had finally stopped shivering, he felt he couldn't keep his eyes open for another minute. He fell back into the bed as Elliamina dimmed the lights and covered him warmly. 

Mina watched as he seemed to slip into a doze immediately. After a moment, she returned to her cleaning. She had made up her mind that she would stay here with him until he was over the worst of this. And since she would be here for a while, she had decided she would scour his cottage from top to bottom. 

However, her brother couldn't seem to settle. He tossed and turned, coughing more and more often, the most awful-sounding fits. Finally he rolled over and opened his eyes, looking at her pitifully.

"I can'dt sleebp," he croaked. "First I'mb sweatig, then I'mb freezig. And I can'dt breathe for the coughig." 

She clicked her tongue, coming to his side. She felt his forehead and cheeks, and this time he let her, leaning his head into her hand. 

“You are so warm, Elm,” she tutted, brushing the sweaty hair off of his brow. “Would you like me to make you another tonic, a stronger one to help you sleep?”

He hesitated, then nodded miserably. 

“Just a moment, then.” She trotted to her cart, ingredients flying to her hands before she had even reached it. She made a potion double the strength of the first one, with a strong dash of sleeping draught. Turning, she made her way back to the bed with the steaming mug as her brother once more struggled into a sitting position, hindered by another coughing fit.

He swallowed the mixture in a few gulps, grimacing, whether from the taste or his sore throat, she wasn’t sure. Then, she helped him lie back yet again, propping him up with pillows so he could breathe easier. The process seemed to wear him out. His eyes drifted closed immediately. 

Elliamina tucked him in, straightening the blankets around him. He mumbled something incoherent as sleep overcame him.

“What did you say?”

“Stay with mbe,” he mumbled, his wheezy exhale turning into a snore.

“Don’t worry, I will,” she whispered, though she knew he did not hear. 

Elliamina spent the rest of the evening puttering around, finishing her deep scour, making soup for when her brother woke, tending to his garden, and other domestic things that she had helped him with since they were children. She gave special attention to his workbench. She cleaned it and sanitized it thoroughly, even using a special cleansing spell on the parchment he had been working on. Sure enough, as soon as it was clean, she saw many of the sigils reverse themselves to what they should be. With a little smile, she replaced the papers where she had found them. Meanwhile, the tonic did its job admirably; Elmrador hardly moved, and he was breathing much easier. The only sound he made for many hours was soft, even snoring.

Evening turned into night. Mina was an early sleeper and early riser. As soon as the sun was down, she made a little nest for herself with extra blankets and pillows on the freshly scoured floor in front of the fireplace. She was weary from her day’s efforts, and dropped off to sleep without any effort, expecting her brother to sleep soundly through the night as well.

Imagine her surprise when she was awakened by him jumping out of bed in the middle of the night and running to his workbench, lighting candles hastily as he went. He banged down into his desk chair, picked up his quill, and began scribbling furiously, muttering to himself.

“Elm? What ails you?” she yawned, getting to her feet and wrapping her shawl around herself to go stand at his side, feeling his forehead. His temperature seemed almost normal, though his cheeks were flushed. He paid her no mind.

“The spell. It came to me in my sleep. I know what I was missing.” He sniffled wetly, wiping his sleeve under his nose, but continued scribbling away. 

“I shan’t try to reason with you, since you’re so determined, though I wonder how you’re awake at all for how strong that tonic was. I don’t want to imagine the state you’ll be in in the morning.” She sighed softly. He seemed fine for now, but the tonic could only mask symptoms for so long.

With a shrug, she shuffled back to her nest. As she went, she mumbled: “Fates help you if you wake me again, though.” In front of the fire once more, she burrowed into her blankets, and was quickly lulled to sleep by the sound of his quill and his muttering. 

It was a harsh cough that woke her again in the morning, just as the sun was beginning to rise, but not hers. She yawned and stretched luxuriously. For a moment she forgot where she was, until a wet sneeze made her turn. 

Elmrador was just as she had left him the night before, hunched over his workbench. Spread out all around him were what appeared to be hundreds of chain shirts, and more were in the process of being finished. However, her brother looked more asleep than awake as he worked. Harsh, dark circles ringed his eyes, vivid against his pallor, as was his raw, chapped nose. Just as she noted this, the nose disappeared into his handkerchief .

“Hrrr’RUSH’eeww! Ahh’NNXGH’shuuh!”

“Oh Elm,” she murmured fondly. “You are in quite a state now, aren’t you?”

“Mbina… Good mornig. Loogk, I fidished mby prototype. Idt’s mby best worgk, I thingk.”

“It had better be, for you to be working as ill as you areYou look awful. You ought to go back to bed right away.”

“Id a few mbinutes. As sood as I fidish these three, I’ll have 300 done. Thed I cad automate themb to reblicate thembselves.”

Such a long speech made him cough harshly, his voice long gone. She tutted disapprovingly. “You’ll be in bed for a week after this. You’ve done yourself in, stubborn fool. 

“Id was worth idt,” he said, almost smugly. “Idt’s for the king.” 

“So you said,” she said, yet again rolling her eyes. “We’ll see if you can say the same in a few days.”

A hoarse grunt was his only reply. He had gone back to his work and needed all his remaining concentration to finish.

Seeing that he wasn’t moving until he reached his target, Elliamina did her own washing and grooming, cleaned up her bedding, and got coffee and breakfast going. Just as she was putting the eggs on, she saw him toss down his tools with a final flourish. However, as he said, the chain mail materials continued to manipulate themselves to form more armor even as Elmrador wearily stood, scrubbing his face and swiping at his dripping nose with a once again sodden handkerchief. 

A round of rough, barking coughs made him hunch over again a moment later, a hand pressed to his chest. A weak “ow” was all he could manage as he tried to catch his breath, a hand now at his temple.

“I didn’t thingk coughig could hurdt so mbuch,” he wheezed.

“Only when you push your body past its limit. Come along, it’s bed for you for the foreseeable future, you dunce.” She moved to his side and grasped his elbow, leading him back to his mattress.  

“You don’dt ndeed to help mbe walk, I’m ndot an invalid, only full of cold,” he muttered, trying to pull away. Mina was not dissuaded.

“Be that as it may, I’d rather help you get there just the same. You look as if a strong breeze will blow you over, and then where would I be?”

He deigned not to reply and instead allowed her to seat him on the edge of the bed where he swayed weakly as she helped him remove his sweaty clothes and don his nightshirt before propping him up against a heap of pillows, as his wheezy breathing was rather worrying her. She plied him once more with tea and tonic, which he accepted without a fuss. Then she brought over the plate of steaming eggs and toast. He made a face and pushed it away.

“I don’dt like eggs even whed I’mb ndot sick. I cerdainly don’dt wandt themb ndow.”

“Ah, so that’s why you have so many eggs. Well, would you at least eat the toast?”

He grunted noncommittally and took a half-hearted bite, taking a long time to chew and swallow. He only managed to finish half a slice before he pushed that away too. “Can’dt. Throadt hurdts too mbuch. Jusdt mbakes mbe feel sicker.” He gamely finished his tea though as she watched worriedly.

“You never turn down food. You’re already a beanstalk, Elm. I wish you would eat something.”

A rough cough was the only reply he could manage as he quickly coasted toward sleep once again. Mina sighed and decided to let him sleep, putting the food aside. That was what he needed most now anyway. 

And sleep he did, for a long time. Yet his work was not done. He had to get up for a few hours the next day, for once all the shirts were complete he had to do the final quality review of the armor. Elliamina hovered worriedly at his elbow as he did intricate magic to test the limits of his creations. He was so weak he could hardly stand, arms shaking and face flushed as he cast. He had to sit often to catch his breath and wait out bouts of lightheadedness or coughs, but he would be damned before he delivered a subpar product to the king. Mina assisted him as best as she was able, doing whatever she could for his health and ensuring he didn't harm himself.

 After hours of rigorous testing, he finally pronounced them suitable, while Elmrador himself ached with weariness. Without another word, he proceeded to crawl back into bed and bury himself in blankets, immediately beginning to snore as one deeply exhausted.

He passed most of the next several days in an illness and tonic-induced slumber. He was miserable when he was awake, every fiber of his being aching or throbbing. Mina forced him to eat and drink whenever she could, but mostly he wanted to sleep, and she let him do just that. 

He was in fact asleep when the king's men arrived for the armor. A small crew of men rode up to the cottage with much pomp and ceremony. Mina greeted them in the garden, introducing herself as the sorcerer's assistant. They were immediately enthralled with her, as was everyone that met her for the first time, and she utilized this to expertly manage the transaction. Within 20 minutes the men were departing with many sacks of chain shirts in their cart, ecstatic with their purchase, while Mina carried a hefty pouch of gold, more than Elm had originally bargained for, into the cottage. Elmrador was still asleep, oblivious to it all. She knew he had lost track of the days some time ago, and she didn't see a reason to excite him until he was better.

Instead of waking him, she safely hid the gold in his stores. She then pulled up her chair once more to her place beside his bed, took up her needlework, and softly began to hum as she worked while her brother slept on peacefully.