#but damn misty intrigues me

[agaythario]

the most obvious thing about misty is the severe munchausen by proxy. i don’t agree with it, but it leads into interesting thoughts about her backstory. i hate misty and i also have a soft spot for her. the ability to love and hate misty simultaneously is due to the writing of the character as well as the portrayal by both actresses. the trailer for season 3 where misty is telling herself not to cry makes me believe that she was abused and/or neglected as a child. if she was neglected and had to care for herself, she could be filling the void by needing others to need her, hence: the smashing of the blackbox to keep them stranded; her becoming a nurse; her spying on nat, and breaking nat's car; the manipulation of her date by saying that if he thought she was pretty he’d come in the house. interestingly, misty being bullied by her peers at school led her to seek validation and connection further, rather than push it away like many people do.

misty is almost always shown on the outside. when the girls are being introduced at the pep rally, she's on the sidelines. when we see them at practice kneeling to huddle, she's outside next to ben. when the girls are dancing in the cabin to "this is how we do it" as an entire group, misty (and one other unnamed girl, i think) is shown dancing outside of the group of girls. whether she's outside for a reason or not (being the manager instead of a player, for example), we are given very stark contrasts between misty and the rest of the girls.

whether or not she’s conscious of her actions or intentions, misty creates problems that she’s already solved. she thinks she's doing what's best for whoever her fixation is without considering their wants or needs. in the flashbacks it's ben, and in the present it's nat. objectively, this is an abusive and manipulative person. it's also a person who may be so delusional and passionate that they truly believe they are the only ones who know how to protect someone they care about.

the scene where misty comes back down into the basement and cries, saying “it’s just one of those days, y’know?” broke my heart even though she literally had a woman chained to a bed that she kidnapped right next to her. the scene where she said that ben had "tricked" her into falling in love with him also broke my heart because while you can see how delusional and manipulative she is, you can also see that she really truly believed he loved her and we also see a glimpse of her inability to recognize the munchausen by proxy traits.

misty quigley is the perfect complex character. in this essay i will-

[dandelions-143]

Double Penetration - Chan & Felix

Kinktober Masterlist

HAPPY HALLOWEEN STAY!!

Word Count: 3680

Warnings: MDNI, 18+ ONLY, Explicit sexual content, Strong language, Adult themes, Consensual group sexual activity,Mild BDSM elements

A/n: I HAD SO MUCH FUN WITH THESE!! THANK YOU ALL FOR READING AND SUPPORTING ME. I HOPE YOU LIKE MORE OF MY WORKS IN THE FUTURE.

No summary just smut under the cut

The steam from the steam room enveloped you in a warm, comforting embrace after your invigorating swimming session with Chan. Droplets of condensation clung to your skin, creating a shimmering effect in the dim light. You were perched on one of the smooth, heated stone benches, your bare skin protected only by a plush white towel wrapped snugly around your body.

Chan sat next to you, his muscular frame relaxed against the wall. His abs were a work of art, each defined ridge and valley casting intricate shadows in the misty air. Droplets of condensation clung to his bronzed skin, accentuating the curves and contours of his chiseled physique. A white towel was secured precariously low around his narrow waist, drawing attention to the tantalizing v-line disappearing beneath the fabric. The towel clung to his form, outlining the impressive bulge beneath and leaving very little to the imagination. His broad shoulders and well-defined pectorals glistened in the dim light, inviting your gaze to linger and appreciate every sculpted inch of his body.

The quiet hiss of steam escaping from the vents and the occasional melodic drip of water were the only sounds breaking the comfortable silence between you two. The air was thick with humidity, carrying the faint scent of eucalyptus from the essential oils added to the steam. You couldn't help but steal glances at Chan's toned body, feeling a mix of admiration and something more... primal. Your eyes traced the lines of his collarbones, down to his chest, and along that damned tv-cut of his hips.. you loved tracing those taught lines of his with your tongue.

The heat was making you both drowsy, your eyelids feeling heavy as you basked in the warmth. Yet, there was an undeniable tension in the air, thick as the steam surrounding you. It crackled with unspoken desire, making your skin tingle with anticipation. The close proximity of your bodies, barely clothed and glistening with moisture, only heightened the sensual atmosphere of the steam room.

Suddenly, the door to the steam room creaked open, and a familiar figure stepped in. It was Felix, his lithe body glistening with droplets of water from the pool. Where Chan's physique was all raw power and bulging muscles, Felix's was a study in lean elegance. His slender frame was adorned with subtle, well-defined muscles that rippled gracefully beneath his skin with each movement. His blonde hair was slicked back, revealing his sharp jawline and piercing eyes, a stark contrast to Chan's darker features and broader face.

As Felix entered, the scent of his cologne mingled with the eucalyptus-infused steam, creating an intoxicating aroma. His towel hung low on his narrow hips, accentuating his slim waist and the delicate v-line leading downwards - a more subtle version of Chan's pronounced obliques. While Chan's presence commanded attention with his sheer size and strength, Felix's allure was in his fluid grace and the quiet confidence that seemed to radiate from his very being.

Felix's eyes widened slightly as he took in the sight of you and Chan, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. His gaze lingered on Chan's muscular frame before sliding over to you, his expression a mix of surprise and intrigue. "Oh sorry, guys. I can come back," he said, his voice low and husky. He started to turn and leave, his towel shifting dangerously low on his hips, revealing the dimples on his lower back.

"No, no, please join us," you said, your voice a little huskier than usual. The steam seemed to thicken as Felix hesitated for a moment, his hand still on the door handle. You could see the internal debate playing out on his face - the desire to stay warring with his sense of propriety.

After what felt like an eternity, Felix stepped fully into the room, letting the door close behind him with a soft click. He settled on the bench opposite you and Chan, his towel riding even lower. The air crackled with an electric tension as the three of you exchanged heated glances, the small space suddenly feeling much more intimate. You could hear the quickening of breaths, see the rise and fall of chests, feel the palpable energy pulsing between you.

You were not exactly dating Chan, but you did share a sexual friendship that had developed naturally over time. You adored him and Felix, being best friends with them both was the best thing that had ever happened to you. Chan was all raw power and intensity, his touch always igniting a fire within you. And even though sex with Chan was amazing and it was something that didn't seem to mess with your friendship, you always had a wandering eye for Felix.

Felix was beautiful in a different way - all graceful lines and gentle strength. His kind nature and infectious laughter made him irresistible. Those qualities just made him even more attractive than he already was. As you sat there, caught between these two incredible men, you felt a surge of desire and anticipation. The steam room had suddenly become a crucible of unspoken longings and possibilities.

You didn't know if it was the heat or your own sexual frustration, but you decided to make a daring move. With deliberate slowness, you shifted towards Chan, your eyes locked on his. The air between you crackled with tension as you leaned in, your lips barely brushing against his. Chan's breath hitched, his body tensing in anticipation.

With a seductive smirk playing on your lips, you closed the distance, pressing your mouth firmly against his. Chan responded immediately, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that matched your own. His hands, however, remained at his sides, likely out of respect for Felix's presence. The kiss deepened, your tongue teasing along the seam of Chan's lips, silently begging for entry.

As you pulled back, you could feel Felix's gaze burning into you, but you kept your eyes fixed on Chan. "It's okay," you whispered, your voice husky with desire. "Put your hands on me." Chan's eyes darkened with lust, understanding the unspoken permission in your words. You both knew about your crush on Felix, and the openness of your relationship allowed for this moment of shared intimacy.

This time, when your lips met, the kiss was electric. Your tongues tangled together in a sensual dance, exploring and tasting. Chan's hand slowly slid up your thigh, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His fingers dipped beneath your towel, gripping your bare ass with a possessiveness that made you moan into his mouth. The sound of your pleasure echoed in the steamy room, mingling with the soft rustle of movement as Felix shifted in his seat.

Breaking the kiss, you turned to see Felix adjusting his towel, his eyes wide and dark with unmistakable desire. "Um, sorry," he mumbled, his accent thicker than usual, betraying his arousal. The sight of him, flustered and clearly affected by what he'd witnessed, sent a fresh wave of heat through your body.

With a newfound boldness, you stood up and made your way over to Felix. Your movements were deliberate, almost predatory. "Don't be sorry," you purred, your voice dripping with invitation. "I'm not." With those words, you allowed your towel to fall away, pooling at your feet.

Felix's eyes widened, his gaze traveling slowly down your exposed body, lingering on every curve and contour. The desire in his eyes was unmistakable, a smoldering heat that matched the steam room's intensity. His chest heaved, each breath coming faster and more labored as he drank in the sight of you. You could almost feel the weight of his gaze on your skin, sending shivers down your spine despite the warmth surrounding you.

With deliberate slowness, you reached out, your fingers brushing against Felix's hands. His skin was warm and slightly damp from the steam, the touch sending sparks of electricity through your body. You entwined your fingers with his, feeling the slight tremble in his hands. With gentle insistence, you pulled him to his feet, bringing your bodies closer together. The air between you crackled with tension, thick with unspoken desire and the promise of what was to come.

Your heart raced as you guided Felix's hands to your hips, his touch hesitant at first, then growing more confident as he cupped your curves. The warmth of his palms against your bare skin sent waves of pleasure coursing through you. Felix's breath hitched audibly, his eyes darting between you and Chan, seeking silent permission. Chan's gaze was dark with desire, a mix of encouragement and his own arousal evident in his expression as he nodded almost imperceptibly.

With that unspoken agreement, Felix pulled you closer, his towel slipping dangerously low on his hips. You could feel the hard planes of his body pressing against yours, the heat of his skin searing through the minimal barrier between you. His arousal was evident, pressing insistently against your lower abdomen, making your breath catch in your throat.

Unable to resist any longer, your lips found Felix's in a passionate kiss. It was electric, sending shockwaves through your body as your mouths moved together. His lips were soft yet demanding, his tongue teasing along the seam of your mouth before delving inside. The steam swirled around your entwined bodies, adding an ethereal quality to the moment. You could taste the faint hint of chlorine from the pool on his lips, mixed with something uniquely Felix.

Chan watched with heated interest, his own desire evident in the way his muscles tensed and relaxed, in the darkening of his eyes. As if drawn by an invisible force, he stood and approached, his movements fluid and predatory. You broke the kiss with Felix, breathless and dizzy with want, and reached out to pull Chan closer. He came willingly, his strong hands immediately finding purchase on your hips.

Chan's touch was different from Felix's - where Felix was exploratory and almost reverent, Chan was possessive and sure. His hands slid over the curve of your ass, squeezing firmly and eliciting a soft moan from your lips. Then his fingers trailed up your sides, the feather-light touch a stark contrast to the firm grip he had moments ago. Every brush of his fingertips sent shivers racing across your skin, goosebumps rising in their wake despite the heat of the room.

As Chan's plump lips found your shoulder, he began to kiss a heated line across your skin. Each press of his lips felt like a brand, marking you as his even as Felix stood before you. The dual sensations of Chan's mouth on your shoulder and Felix's body pressed against yours were intoxicating, making your head spin with pleasure.

Felix, not to be outdone, resumed his attentions with renewed vigor. His kisses were deep and passionate, his tongue tangling with yours in a sensual dance. His hands held tight to your curvy hips, fingers digging in just enough to be on the pleasurable side of pain. You could feel his hard length pressing insistently against your lower stomach, the heat of it searing even through the thin towel.

Suddenly, Chan's hand tangled in your hair, gently but firmly pulling your head back. The slight sting sent a jolt of pleasure through you as he angled your face towards him. His lips crashed against yours, the kiss deep and demanding, a stark contrast to Felix's earlier gentleness. Felix, undeterred, let his lips trail down your newly exposed throat. He kissed and nipped at the sensitive skin, drawing gasps and moans from you that Chan swallowed in his kiss.

Your hand, seemingly with a mind of its own, slid down Felix's toned abdomen. You felt his muscles jump under your touch as your fingers dipped below his towel, wrapping around his length. Felix let out a deep, guttural moan against your throat as you gave him a teasing squeeze, the sound vibrating through your body and stoking the fire building within you.

The steam room was filled with the sounds of your shared passion - heavy breathing, soft moans, and the occasional gasp of pleasure. The air was thick not just with steam now, but with the heady scent of arousal and the electric charge of three bodies on the brink of ecstasy. As you stood there, caught between Chan and Felix, you knew that this was only the beginning of what promised to be an unforgettable encounter.

The combination of sensations was overwhelming - Chan's firm grip in your hair sent tingles down your scalp, while Felix's eager lips on your throat left a trail of fire. Your own hand explored Felix's arousal, feeling it throb and pulse beneath your touch. Your body trembled with desire as you stood between them, their hard bodies pressing against you from both sides. The steam seemed to intensify every sensation, making your skin hypersensitive to their caresses. Every brush of their fingers, every press of their lips felt magnified tenfold, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Felix, pick her up," Chan commanded, his voice low and husky, barely audible over the hiss of steam. Despite the softness of his tone, it was unmistakably a command. Felix complied without hesitation, his strong hands gripping your thighs as he lifted you effortlessly. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your core pressing against his hardness. You let out an audible gasp as Felix entered you without warning, his thick length stretching your slick walls perfectly. The sudden fullness made your head spin with pleasure, your nails digging into his shoulders as you adjusted to his size.

Chan moved behind you, his hands caressing your back with a feather-light touch that contrasted beautifully with Felix's firm grip. You felt Chan's fingers tracing down your spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake despite the heat of the room. The anticipation built as you felt Chan's hardness pressing against your ass, his breath hot and heavy on your neck. Chan then spit into his open palm before slowly rubbing your entrance, making sure you were completely wet and ready for him. With a gentle yet insistent push, he entered you from behind, causing you to cry out in ecstasy as both men filled you completely. The sensation of being stretched and filled so thoroughly was unlike anything you'd ever experienced before, pleasure bordering on the edge of pain in the most delicious way.

Chan's hands snaked around you, one helping Felix support your weight while the other caressed and played with your breasts. His fingers teased your nipples, rolling and pinching them gently, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. The sensation of being filled by both men was overwhelming, sending waves of intense pleasure through your entire body. You moaned loudly, your head falling back onto Chan's shoulder as Felix and Chan began to move in tandem. Their rhythmic thrusts were perfectly synchronized, each push and pull sending jolts of ecstasy through you. Felix would withdraw slightly only for Chan to thrust deeper, creating a constant, mind-blowing stimulation. The steam room echoed with the sounds of your shared passion - skin against skin, breathless moans, and whispered praises. The heat amplified every touch, every sensation, turning your skin into an oversensitive map of pleasure points that they seemed determined to explore thoroughly.

"So tight, baby," Chan mumbled against your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. His teeth grazed your sensitive skin, alternating between gentle nibbles and soothing kisses. The contrast of sensations made you gasp, your body arching into his touch.

Felix's forehead was pressed against yours, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure. You could feel the tremors running through his body as he struggled to maintain control. His breath came in short, sharp pants, mingling with your own in the small space between your faces. The intimacy of the moment was almost overwhelming.

The feeling of both men inside you was indescribable. Their bodies, hot and slick with sweat, pressed against you from both sides. Every movement sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. Chan's chest rubbed against your back, his skin sliding smoothly against yours in the steam-filled room. Felix's abs flexed with each thrust, the defined muscles rippling under your touch.

You could feel yourself rapidly approaching the edge. Your body trembled uncontrollably, every nerve ending alight with sensation. Each perfectly timed thrust brought you closer and closer to release. The coil of tension in your lower abdomen wound tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment. You clung to both men desperately, your nails digging into Felix's shoulders and your head thrown back against Chan's chest as you teetered on the brink of ecstasy.

"Y/N, you feel even better than I imagined. So perfect," Felix growled, his deep voice huskier than ever, the vibrations of his words reverberated through your chest. His breath was hot against your ear, each exhale a testament to his mounting pleasure. Chan picked up his pace, his thrusts becoming more forceful, more urgent. Felix, ever in sync, matched Chan's rhythm perfectly, creating a delicious friction that had you seeing stars.

Chan's hand, which had been teasing and caressing your breast, now slid up your body with deliberate slowness. His fingers traced a path along your collarbone, leaving goosebumps in their wake, before finally wrapping around your throat. He didn't squeeze, but the firm grip held you in place, a silent assertion of his dominance that made your pulse quicken. The pressure of his palm against your racing pulse point added an extra layer of intensity to the already overwhelming sensations.

"Felix... Chan... oh god," you moaned, your voice breathy and desperate. The words tumbled from your lips in a litany of pleasure as you felt your orgasm building, a tidal wave of ecstasy threatening to crash over you at any moment. Your body moved instinctively, hips rolling and grinding, chasing the mounting pleasure. Every nerve ending felt electrified, every touch magnified tenfold in the steamy air of the room.

The coil of tension in your lower abdomen wound tighter and tighter with each perfectly timed thrust. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge of release, your inner walls clenching rhythmically around both men. The dual stimulation was almost too much to bear, pleasure bordering on the edge of sweet agony. Felix hissed in slight pain as your grip intensified on his shoulders, your moans and whimpers turning into soft cries of ecstasy.

The tension in your body reached its crescendo as the combined sensations overwhelmed you. With a loud cry, your orgasm crashed over you in intense waves. Your inner walls clenched around both men, drawing them deeper as your body shuddered with pleasure. Chan and Felix groaned in unison, their movements becoming more erratic as they pursued their own release.

Felix was the first to succumb, his hips faltering as he spilled deep inside you with a guttural moan. The sensation of his release triggered Chan's climax, and you felt him pulse within you, his grip on your throat tightening slightly as he rode out his orgasm.

The air was filled with a symphony of loud, unashamed moans and cries from all three of you, echoing off the tiled walls of the steam room. Your bodies, slick with sweat and the humidity of the room, remained pressed together as you came down from your collective high. You could feel their cum mixing with your own juices inside you, threatening to drip down your thighs at any moment. The sensation was deliciously dirty, a physical reminder of the intense pleasure you had just shared. The three of you remained intertwined, panting heavily as the steam swirled around your spent bodies, the air thick with the heady scent of sex and satisfaction.

Felix kissed your lips tenderly, his soft lips caressing yours with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with the intensity of your previous encounter. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, applying just enough pressure to send a shiver down your spine before he released it. "Wow..." he breathed out, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with awe and satisfaction.

As the afterglow enveloped you, a warm, tingling sensation spreading through your body, Chan carefully withdrew. The sudden emptiness made you gasp softly. Felix, still supporting your weight, gently lowered you to your feet. Your legs trembled, feeling like jelly, and both men instinctively moved to steady you. Chan's strong hand found the small of your back, while Felix's arm wrapped around your waist. Their touch, once burning with passion, now radiated comfort and care.

The steam room, which had moments ago been filled with the sounds of your shared passion, now felt transformed. The air was thick not just with steam, but with a new energy - a palpable intimacy that seemed to connect the three of you. The tiles beneath your feet, the bench where this all began, even the very air you breathed seemed charged with the secret you now shared.

Felix's eyes, usually bright and playful, now held a depth of emotion that took your breath away. They sparkled with a blend of satisfaction, newfound intimacy, and something that looked suspiciously like adoration. His gaze flicked between you and Chan, a soft smile playing on his lips. That smile spoke volumes - of the pleasure you'd shared, of the boundaries you'd crossed together, and of the unspoken bond that now existed between the three of you. In that moment, surrounded by steam and wrapped in the arms of these two incredible men, you felt a sense of completeness you'd never experienced before.

Taglist:

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[dalekowrites]

What would your favourite choice of the games interactive stories be? Would you have a favourite type? Romance, Fantasy etc. and did any of the inspire you with the ones you are currently writing? 😁

Oh boy! This is going to be a long answer, brace yourself lol

Let me start by saying that I have a degree in English literature (in fact, I'm going to do a PhD on it), so reading, in general, is one of the core activities of my life.

As for text adventures, even if not from Choice of Games Ltd., I'd like to mention a few inspirations: my passion first came from the original Choose Your Own Adventure series, and I still remember which numbers obsessed me as a child: Mountain Survival #28, The Dragons' Den #33, and more than any other, Space Patrol #22! (The latter may have also fueled my unhealthy obsession with Star Trek TOS, actually). For those unfamiliar with this fantastic book series, the genres of the three books I mentioned are, respectively, adventure, fantasy, and sci-fi. This gives you an idea of how varied my tastes are...

Later on, I discovered interactive fictions and text adventures. Dude, it was a dream come true. I started with Adventure ('76, never finished it, of course) and Zork ('79, never finished that either… of course. How damn hard were they?!). Then Mystery Mansion ('78), Castle Adventure ('82), and too many, many others. I'm a sucker for Sorcery! from inkle, and I deeply loved Magium (RIP Chris, you won't be forgotten). For my Italian-speaking friends, I also really enjoyed the Fra Tenebra e Abisso series (although its current status is unknown).

But back to CoG-related things. I've read a lot, and I'd probably be faster telling you what I didn't like! As you may have figured out by now, I don't have any particular genre preferences as long as a story is well-written, though horror-thriller stories usually grab my attention more easily.

Important note: I've read a lot of stories and, with a few exceptions, I liked most of them. To avoid writing a too-long list, here are the published stories that really impressed me:

A Crown of Sorcery and Steel,

A Midsummer Night's Choice,

Blood for Poppies,

Blood Moon,

Broadway: 1849,

Choice of the Cat,

Choice of the Vampire,

Donor,

Doomsday on Demand (1 and 2),

Gilded Rails,

Golden Rose: Book One,

Jazz Age,

Lies Under Ice,

Life of a Mercenary,

Life of a Space Force Captain,

MetaHuman Inc.,

Noblesse Oblige,

Paradox Factor,

The Evertree Saga (all four books),

Rent-a-Vice,

Revolution Diabolique,

Siege of Treboulain,

Tally Ho,

The Daily Blackmail,

The Dragon and the Djinn,

The Fernweh Saga: Book One,

The Fog Knows Your Name,

The Gray Painter,

The Grim and I,

The Ghost and the Golem,

The Lost Heir,

The Midnight Saga: The Monster,

The Parenting Simulator,

The Play's the Thing,

The Soul Stone War (1 and 2),

The War for the West,

Tudor Intrigue,

Vampire Regent,

Vampire: The Masquerade (all of them),

Way Walkers: University (1 and 2),

Welcome to Moreytown,

Werewolves: Haven Raising,

Zombie Exodus,

Zombie Exodus: Safe Haven.

And now, onto works in progress! There aren’t that many because I barely have time to follow my own (heh…), so here, in alphabetical order, are the ones I'm following with the most interest:

Adoriel's Tears (@adoriels-tears-if),

A Father's Love (@kal-down),

Crown of Ashes and Flames (@coeluvr),

Dawn Chorus (@dawnchorus-if)

Disenchanted (@disenchantedif),

Dragon's Edged (@dragonedged-if),

Elysium (@elysiumcircusif),

Fallen Lights (@fallenlightsif),

For King and Country (@forkingandcountry-if),

From The Ashes We Rise (@kal-down),

Hubris (@hubris-the-if-game),

Kingdoms and Empires (@kingdoms-and-empires),

Return to Misty Cove (@fluorescent-if),

The Abyssal Song (@ri-writes-if),

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - An affair of the heart (@doriana-gray-games),

The Lonely Shore (@thelonelyshore-if),

The King's Hound (@the-kingshound),

The Reaper Watches Me (@thereaperwatchesme),

The Bureau (@thebureau),

The Unseelie (@theunseelieif),

Van Helsing (@vanhelsing-if),

When Life Gives You Lemons (@when-life-gives-you-lemons-if).

Okay, that was… a lot. As for direct inspirations, I don't have any direct ones, but I can say I felt like writing a post-apocalyptic story after reading Doomsday on Demand! Other than that, I guess the collection of narrative, text adventures, and interactive fiction I've read have led me to where I am now.

Damn, it took me hours to write this answer. I hope it's satisfying at least! Thanks for asking ☺

[antvmnos]

karasu

bi-han x female character x kuai liang 

summary: In another era, a powerful elder god with bravery to command and win battles, but  devised a cruel plan by Shinnok motivated by his cruel intentions, she was betrayed and killed for not accepting his deal. Now, returned by the dead and with a new perspective to start following Lord Liu Kang, she was trying to begin again and forget the painful past but her heart had other plans. 

1K WORDS. elder goddess, female gender, afab — mild language, violence, slow burn, mentions of death/blood, injuries. 

You are surrounded by this decrepit place. Limbo seemed less worse in the legends you used to hear, until the day you were confined to remain there and could see it with your own eyes. Time does not seem to pass as it should, always returning to a repetitive starting point from his ancestry to his cruel death. You are forced to watch these events beyond your control over and over again, until you remember every detail, every line, every action, finally coming to terms, long ago, that it's not Raiden's fault — he was protecting the plans, just like You would do it too, you would give up your own life if it meant peace on the earthrealm.

Just as he also abdicated yours… right?

He wouldn't make it in time.

If he had been there, could things have been different?

He couldn't. Cause you deserve to die.

It is these questions that force her to resent her unfair punishment, fueled by this feeling of hatred. Indeed, there are fates worse than death. And you are aware of this by being here.

"I can help you free yourself from this place." A distant voice speaks to you. You are scared at first, but somehow it brings you comfort.

"I know what I did."

"It was never your fault. Shinnok's vile intentions doomed you, I saw."

"Yes it was. If I had fought him, I could have avoided all of this, I was foolish and ignorant to believe that Shinnok could simply… change."

He doesn't respond or agree with what you said. The male figure materializes in front of you, and in all your existence as a goddess you have never seen him before. But he couldn't be just any deity, he wouldn't be able to get to this place if he were.

If you could blush, you certainly would have.

"If you follow me I can't rid you of your memories, but I can give you a new purpose to move forward."

At first, you looked at him with palpable disbelief, deeply intrigued. You were afraid. Fear of everything happening again, of being used, of returning to this damned place. However, something remained there. He didn't seem to be bluffing or lying.

He didn't look like Shinnok who in every measly word spat out a variety of lies to usurp power.

Something inside you tells you to believe him.

You look around you, there is no life beyond this. You were alone. Each deity, when he died, acquired the punishment he deserved inherent to his actions.

"If I accept your proposal, will I have the peace I seek?"

"Maybe… much more than that. You must walk the path for the answers you want."

He extends his hand towards her, offering a tender look that moves her, for the first time, in centuries or decades, perhaps? You don't know how to discern how much time has passed since your death. Hesitantly, you touched his hand and that place you had been confined in for so long dissolved into a distant mist.

A misty memory of a dream.

You shield your eyes from the brightness as you are greeted by the gentle wind of a morning, somewhere whose location is unknown. The world you once walked in prostrates itself before you again, this time a little different from that period but somehow familiar and welcoming. The birds chirp in a happy and infectious song while the soft sunlight touches their face warmly. You closed your eyes to taste the liberating taste of the usurped life, and for a brief moment you feel immeasurable relief at the sight of the vast rice fields and the village.

This world has changed during his absence, but at the same time, he feels that there is still a certain grace in it. Mortals have always captivated their attention in the little things, their appreciation for that land and its skills both in combat and its uniqueness.

 Your walk continues for a while longer, he takes you to an establishment. At the time of his entry, it was empty with just a few workers organizing the place. You don't understand at first his motivations for being here, but a middle-aged lady, upon noticing you, heads towards you.

"Liu Kang!" She greets excitedly. "I haven't seen him in a long time!"

He respectfully bows to her. You imitate the gesture, not wanting to appear rude.

"It's always a pleasure to see you again, Mistress Bo."

"So what brings you here?"

"Sorry to ask for one more favor out of the many I've already asked, but my guest needs to spend some time with you, if it's not inconvenient."

Her gaze flicks to you momentarily, looking you up and down, you flinch. Your clothes were not in the best condition, the kimono that once carried grace and subtlety was full of tears and blood marks, you immediately remember that infamous moment when your life was taken — the deep cut that marks your stomach. Instinctively, you bring your hand to the scar that extends from your lower back.

She was cauterized.

"Oh no, you know it doesn't bother her, on the contrary I will be very happy to help her. Gods, what happened to her? Poor thing, she looks horrible, covered in dirt and that is... Blood?"

"She… went through some difficult situations. I also hope to share your description."

You watch him without understanding why reality is blatantly omitted, he just shrugs and offers you a look as a silent request not to utter a single word.

Your thoughts are interrupted when your stomach makes a noise, as if a dark beast is living inside it.

The lady laughs.

You blush embarrassed.

"Don't worry Liu Kang, she is in good hands. Come young lady, let's prepare a nice bath and something for you to eat."

Without many options, you follow the woman into her affectionate grip. Turning to say goodbye, the god offers you a soft smile before disappearing.

[shadowqueenjude]

ACOTAR ASK GAME

Tagged by @sonics-atelier and @crazy-ache and @hieragalbatorixdottir

Who's your favourite ACOTAR character?

Lucien Vanserra basically since the moment he stepped on page

Who's your least favourite character?

Rhysand.

Say something nice about your least favourite character.

Uhhhhh, he makes a good power bottom for Tamlin?

Who's your favourite High Lord? (If you picked one for your fav character, then who's your second fav!)

Damn, this is tough. Tamlin and Tarquin are super close for me, and I like Beron for his villain potential and Kallias because he’s a simp for his wife…I’ll go with Tamlin though.

Favorite minor character?

Not sure what qualifies as a minor character! Does Eris count? If so, definitely him. What about Gwyn and Emerie? Or are they also too important? If we’re talking truly “minor” character in terms of screen time, then Jurian for sure.

Favorite ship?

Elucien obviously

Favorite court?

AUTUMN COURT. There’s so much potential for an in-depth plot there, and the intrigue, the Vanserras, the aesthetic, that FIREEEEE…

Make up a brand new court RIGHT NOW, NO PREP JUST VIBES.

A Court of the dead! A court where witches and seers and all kinds thrive and interact with the living dead. The High Lord/Lady of that court also rules over the Underworld, which you can reach by descending a super long staircase behind the throne. Weather? Think San Francisco. Hella foggy and misty. High Lord/Lady’s power? Raising the dead. Silver fire. Like Nesta.

What relationship would you have wanted to see more of in the books?

The relationship between the Archeron sisters. Everyone and their mothers interfered in their relationship instead of letting them be girls and figure it out on their own which I believe contributes to how weird their relationship is rn.

What’s your unpopular opinion?

Basically all my takes on the bat boys…

What is your favorite headcanon?

I have two: One that Elain has healing and earth magic, and two that Eris is a pianist.

If you were swept away to Prythian, what's ONE thing you would want to do?

Jump into the Cauldron.

Immerse myself in the culture! I’m trying aaallll the food, and the wine, and convincing one of the High Fae to give me faerie sight for a sec so that I can see everything as it truly is, maybe jumping into the starlight pool…😍

If you could have ONE faerie ability seen in the books, which would it be?

Shapeshifting is SUCH a broken ability, like??? Imagine being able to turn into whatever you want??? Don’t wanna be seen? Shapeshift into a mouse. Wanna go places? Fly by bird, baby. Wanna check if your spouse is cheating on you? Shapeshift into their suspected lover, or hey, become a fly on their wall. Your natural form feels ugly to you? Just make yourself hotter! You can experiment with genders and sexualities, scare people by shapeshifting into a dragon or some shit, like??? Where’s the drawback? It’s sooo cool and it’s not explored enough. As much of a Vanserra girlie I am, I NEED those shapeshifting abilities.

Tagging: @valkyriepegusus @ennawrite @positivelyruined @rin-u-pos @sunbrightheart @tilseptemberends @decadentpostnacho @yoddhasblog

[bimboothefool]

Hello! Firstly, I'd like to give thanks for getting me back into FNF. A good friend shared that wip Yourself/Silly Billy x reader comic you're working over Discord, and it intrigued me enough to look into it. Not only did I end up returning to the FNF fandom but also got a very big brainrot on Yourself/Silly Billy. Thanks for that.

Also speaking of that wip comic, I absolutely LOVE how it's coming along so far!

That first page is just so sweet, and honestly even more so now that I know more about Yourself there. Poor guy is clearly so happy and relieved to be reunited with a loved one there, even though said loved one (in this case Reader) isn't the same version he knows.

Then freaking Boyfriend calls out and that bit we get to see of Yourself's reaction regarding that- I couldn't help but let out a little laugh. It feels almost like he got caught up in the moment there and only just came back to reality there when BF called out there.

Speaking of BF, it's a good thing he showed up when he did. Not that I'm worried about what would happen to Reader with Yourself there, but man I can't help but feel he saved Reader from a more shocking reveal there. Better that it happens right now than later on am I right lmao.

And speaking of the reveal there, I LOOOOVE how you have done the reveal with Yourself on the second page. Poor Reader just very fearfully glancing down to the BF in their arms and god- I love that panel with Yourself there but god damn does it give me the chills. Like, in a good way here if that makes any sense.

THAT BIT YOU SHARED ON THE THIRD PAGE THO ASJKASJK GOD I ABSOLUTELY ADORE IT SO MUCH. It's just a small thing, yes, but that panel with Yourself holding Reader there- god it makes me feel so many emotions there. The fact that he's an alternate Boyfriend? God. I just feel myself getting a little misty-eyed here.

I do feel a little bad for Reader though. While we know that Yourself has no malice intentions for them and simply just want to be with them again, Reader DOESN'T know that. As far as Reader is aware, they encountered what appears to be some sort of doppelganger of Boyfriend, and for whatever reason he seems to be really interested in them.

Can't wait to see their reaction when they learn who Yourself is there. Hopefully it'll involve giving the poor guy some much comfort there cuz seriously he has been through a lot. 😭

Anyhow, this is getting long enough as it is so I shall end this with another thank you and wishing you luck on the rest of that comic and your other works! Also hope we'll be seeing more Yourself/Silly Billy x Reader and Boyfriend x Reader content in the future too! :D

You’re welcome I’m happy you’re back into the fnf fandom and have brainrot because of my silly comic wip!!

Awww thanks Anon, I’m really happy you like the comic so far!! I’m reworking the comic’s ending, given originally there was gonna be a Boyfriend & Yourself/Silly Billy Ending (separate). But after really thinking about it, I thought a single ending is better and overall I think you and anyone reading the comic deserve a better ending!

Your analysis is really interesting and it was such a joy to read!! As of now I’m reworking some bits and pieces of the comic so that the new ending can feel seamless. I won’t spoil the comic ending as that would be well spoilers. lololol

You’re welcome Anon and thank you so so so much for the message!! :D It was very heartwarming to read and yes I’m hoping I can deliver some more Boyfriend x Reader & Yourself/Silly Billy x Reader content!! People like you are such a good driving force and help me move forward with making my content!! Much love and hope you’re having an amazing day!!🩷💕

[krishgupt]

Ash Betrayed (Part - 1)

Everything was perfect! The Sun was shining! The Pidgeys were singing! And Ash and Pikachu were having a race towards their home! Pallet Town!

"Coming on Pikachu! You are really slow!" Ash said jokingly.

"//At Least I am not dense!//" Pikachu countered. The race was going on, but suddenly, Ash was hit by a water gun.

"Ah!" Ash shouted as he was hit by the water gun.

"Who is it!" Ash said seriously as he and Pikachu took position.

"It's me! It's me!" A familiar voice came as a familiar voice came out of the bushes with a familiar Politoed. Ash immediately smiled seeing the familiar redhead.

"Been a long time, Misty!" Ash said.

"Same here!" Misty said as she walked towards Ash. Expecting a friendly reunion, Ash raised his hand. But instead, he was hit with Misty's famous mallet.

"OUCH!!!! What did I do to deserve that?" Ash said as Pikachu climbed Misty's shoulder.

"//Hey Misty!//" Pikachu said as he rubbed his cheeks against Misty's.

"That was for making me wait for an hour! Your mother told me you will be coming from this route and to catch you in the middle, I stayed here! But you are not punctual," Misty said.

"Also Hey Pikachu! I missed you," Misty said as she patted him.

"Ah!!! Anyways, Let's get going!" Ash said.

"Brock should be here in minute!" Misty said.

"Well, you wanna see my pokemons?" Ash asked.

"Do I ever!" Misty said as they walked towards the patch of grassland near the main path with a small lake.

"Come out!" Both shouted as they threw their pokeballs out.

Misty had

Politoed

Gyarados

Starmie

Golduck

Kingdra

Ash had his journey's team. And Misty was creeped out but also very intrigued by Dracovish.

"So tell me Misty, how is the life of Gym leader treating you?" Ash said.

"It is fine, but I wonder how the life of a World Champion is treating you?" Misty said with a smile.

"Umm................ I don't know actually; I am probably the least involved Champion. Lance once asked me when I am permanently settling in Alola. He told me since I am the champion of Alola, I am supposed to be heavily involved in Alolan matters........................... I asked Leon about the Responsibilities of Monarch, and he told me it was mainly chairing the meetings between different regions champions..................... I asked Professor Kukai as to what to do, and he told me as of now, I don't need to entertain those matters. And the Championship organization told me the as of now, the Monarch's responsibilities will stay with Leon until I am ready........................ combine that with me rarely going to major Urban centres........................ I don't feel anything different, you know," Ash said.

"Damn, feels exhausting," Misty said.

"Anyways, Let's talk about your love life?" Misty said with a wink.

"I have no idea what you are saying," Ash said as Misty does an anime fall.

"You are really a kid," Misty said as she and Pikachu did a facepalmed. Suddenly, they heard a voice.

"HEY GUYS!!!!!!" They turned to see the best companion of Ash, Brock!

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

"So, how is life going on?" Brock asked Ash and Misty as they walked towards Pallet Town.

"It is fine," Misty said.

"Same here," Ash said.

"Oh Misty, I saw your recent post, you and Gary-" Before Brock could complete the statement, Misty hit him with her mallet.

"Shut up Brock! We were just hanging out, catching up if you may!" Misty said.

"Guys come on! Mom must be waiting!!!!!" Ash said as he ran towards Pallet.

"//Ash wait!//" Pikachu shouted as he ran behind him

"Like always!" Misty said as she and Brock ran behind Ash.

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

"FINALLY!" Ash shouted as he reached his home. He was about to enter when he heard a familiar call.

"Hey Ashy Boy!" Ash smirked and turned to see Gary, his childhood friend.

"Hey Gary oak tree!" Ash said as he hugged Gary.

"How is life of a professor treating you?" Ash asked as Pikachu climbed up Gary's shoulder and rubbed his cheek against Gary's

"It is good, and nice to meet you again Pikachu," Gary said as he patted Pikachu.

"Hey Gary," Brock said as the two men shook hands.

"H-hey Gary!" Misty said, blush a little.

"H-Hey! Misty! Been a long time!" Gary said nervously as he too blushed a little.

"You two literally saw each other last wed-" Brock was block by brain damage. By that I mean he was hit by Misty's mallet.

"Anyways, Congratulation on becoming world champion!" Gary said as Ash starting thinking about whether this title was actually meaningful or just that, a title. Ash was thinking this as he knocked on his home's door.

"Coming!" Ash's mother voice came. Hearing his mother's voice, Ash felt heaven. When the door open, it was a flood! Both sides started crying as they took each other in a hard hug! Pikachu was also part of the hug.

"I am so happy for you! My baby!"

"I did it mom!"

"I am proud of you!"

Blah blah blah! I don't need to write what words were exchange. It is there in almost all of Ash fanfics where Delia is on the good side.

"Oh! I forgot!" Delia said she broke the hug.

"All of your friends are there! Why not join them!" Delia said as Ash smiled. Ash, Pikachu, Misty, Brock and Gary entered the Ketchum residence.

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

As Ash and the crew entered the living room, they found Ash's friend group divided into 2 factions.

On one side, was Iris, Cilan, Sophocles, Trip, Drew, May and Max on one side. They were also with 7 more people. 3 girls and 4 Guys, but Ash knew nothing about them.

On the other side were

Tracy, Dawn, Serena, Clemont, Bonnie, Lillie, Gladion, Paul, Lana, Kiawe, Mallow and Alain

(Am I missing someone? I am actually asking)

"Hey Guys!" Ash shouted as everyone turned to him. Group 2 immediately surrounded Ash, with the exception of Serena, Lillie and Dawn (You tell me why?). While Ash was talking to them, Pikachu jumped of his shoulder and went straight towards Serena, Lillie and Dawn, who had a weird tension amongst each other.

Ash talked to them, then he started to move towards Group 1, with a Happy face. BUT SUDDENLY! Lucario came out of his pokeball and stood between Ash and Group 1.

"Lucario?" Ash asked. Everyone was confused.

"Ash, what happened?" Delia asked, a little concerned.

"I don't know Mom," Ash said as he looked at the 7 people he didn't recognized.

"Umm..................... I am sorry but who are you guys?" Ash asked, much to Delia's concern and Group 1 annoyance.

"Ash, you don't know them?" Delia asked.

"Yeah," Ash said.

"But Iris, May, Sophocles Cilan and Max told me you have travelled with them," Delia said, starting to get actively worried. Lucario looked at Ash and Raised his paw. Understanding his Pokemon sign, he held Lucario's Paw. Suddenly, Ash Vision changed from Normal Human vision to Aura Vision. And he could see why Lucario became cautious. The Aura coming from Group 1 was as black as Black goes.

"What are you guys planning on doing?" Ash said, extremely shocked, as he let go of Lucario's Paw and pulled out a pokeball.

"You are still a kid!" Iris said as Group 1 Took position to attack. Seeing the recent developments, Group 2 took position as well, ready to fight for Ash.

"Iris, May Cilan, Max, Sophocles, what is the meaning of this!" Ash asked, really confused.

"Such a kid, you are right to call him that Iris," May said.

"Allow me to answer!" Ash turned to see the guy who wore clothing similar to Ash during his Kalos adventure.

"Who are you?" Ash asked.

"The name is Calem! Calem Lysandre! But my heritage is not the question here! The fact that your Hoennese and Unovan Allies are against you is the question! So Let me tell you, they are Team Rocket's Agents!" The Moment Ash heard this, he was broken.

"What!" Brock shouted.

"Iris' Dad is a sleeper cell of Team Rocket, so is May and Max's Mom! Cilan whole family is part of Team Rocket! Same goes for Sophocles! They were supposed to cause problems in your journey! Never did you wonder why Hoenn and Unova were not good to you?" Calem said as he revealed the truth. Hearing this, Delia left the room.

"So all the moments of friendship...................................... They were nothing for you guys!!!!!" Ash shouted, deeply hurt about this betrayal!

"MAY! MAX!!!! PLEASE STOP THIS DAMNIT!!!!!!" Brock shouted.

"Sophocles! Have you lost it!" Kiawe shouted as Delia came back.

"Oh can we please just end this bs!" Sophocles said as everyone took position to battle.

Suddenly, Calem's phone rang, making a somewhat awkward silence.

"Yes sir? Are you sure? Very well!" Calem said as he cut the call.

"Boss has order us to leave! Let's us go! We want no trouble!!!!" Calem said anticlimactically.

"You really think that after the BS you guys said, we will just let you go?" Gary said.

"Aren't you guys supposed to be honorable and all?" Calem asked.

"Well not today-" Gladion said before getting interrupted by Ash.

"Just let them go, I need some peace!" Ash said angrily. He didn't even want to look at his former friends as they left.

"I need some time alone to myself," Ash said as he left to his room.

"Ash!" Delia said as she and Pikachu went behind him.

"This is pathetic" Paul said as he facepalmed.

"No kidding, I met May and Max sometimes. They were like siblings to him," Gary said.

"Yeah," Brock said in a sad voice.

"Oh Ash," Serena, Lillie and Dawn thought.

"Brock, Gary! come!" Misty said as took the too Ash's room.

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

Ash had locked his room. Delia, Pikachu, Brock, Misty and Gary calmly knocking the door. And by Calmly, I meant Harry Potter Calmly.

"ASH PLEASE OPEN THE DOOR FOR ARCEUS SAKE!!!!!!!!!! YOUR OTHER FRIENDS ARE STILL HERE!!!!!!!!!* Delia shouted as she knocked the door, she was worried sick that Ash may do something to harm himself.

"Ash please! For the sake our friendship open the door!" Misty shouted as she bang the door.

"//Ash please! I beg of you! Open the door man!//" Pikachu said as he scratched the door.

Brock and Gary were standing. Thinking what to do. Finally, Brock said.

"Give him some time guys," Brock said in a calm voice (Actually calm, not harry potter calm)

"Yeah, Brock is right," Gary said.

"But Ash-" Misty said before getting Gary put his hand on a shoulder.

"Trust me, I know Ash, he does stupid things, but self-harm for no reason is something he will not," Gary said as he gave Misty a trusting look.

"If you say so," Misty said, holding Gary's hand.

"Aunty, others are waiting," Gary said.

"Yeah............. You three go, I will come with Pikachu in just a minute," Delia said as the other three left.

"Ash," Delia said, talking to her son through the door, unsure if he is even listening to her.

"I know, I know you feel hurt, I know the feeling of betrayal is extremely painful.............................. But you are not alone! Your friends are there for you! Your true Friends! And your Pokemons! They are there for you till the very end!" Delia said as tears started to flow him her eyes. Pikachu climbed to her shoulder and rubbed his cheek against her.

"And I am there for you, I was there for you from the very beginning when I gave birth to you, and I will be there for you till my last-" Before Delia could complete the sentence, the door open. Ash was standing in front of her. His face was one filled with Terror. His eyes, red, probably due to crying, were in deep terror. Delia immediately hugged him.

"Ash!!!!!" Delia said as she hugged him.

"I was afraid for you! I-I was worried that you may-" Before Delia could complete, Ash interrupted her.

"Never..................... Never talk about dying in front of me! Ever again Mom! I will die if something ever happens to you!" Ash said as he broke the Hug.

"I am sorry dear," Delia said as she hugged him again. After a minute of Hugging, Delia broke the hug.

"All of your friends are waiting for you down stairs Ash, they are probably worried sick," Delia said.

"Yeah..................... I-I shouldn't not ruin their stay because some of the false ones!" Ash said as the three of them walked down stairs. In the Living of Ketchum residence, All of Ash's true friends were worried sick for Ash.

Brock, Gary, Misty and Tracy were sitting in a group, talking about what just happened.

Lana, Kiawe and Mallow were in another group, talking about Sophocles' Betrayal.

Clemont was sitting alone with Alain, Paul and Gladion, wondering why Team Rocket (The whole Organisation) will have such a special interest in Ash that they were hell bent in ruining him

Bonnie was sitting with Serena, Lillie and Dawn. She was sleeping, holding tight to Serena. The three were worried sick for Ash, but one could sense a weird tension between the three of them.

"Is she alright?" Lillie asked, deciding to break the silence. Lillie was right to be worried about Bonnie. She had seen Bonnie was getting close, or at least was trying to get close to Max, seeing him as someone who was directly trained by Ash.

"I hope so," Serena replied as the three returned to their tensed silence.

"Everyone, Ash is back," Delia announced as She, along with Ash and Pikachu entered the living room. Everyone immediately surrounded Ash, asking if he is ok or not. Ash reassured them that he was fine with a Smile.

"Let's not overwhelm him," Paul said.

"I agree," Delia said as she walked towards the Kitchen.

"Anyone who wants to help me cook? Others can just rest and watch TV-" Delia said before she was interrupted by a loud sound of three girls.

"I'LL DO IT!!!!!!!!!!!!" Serena, Lillie and Dawn shouted, shocking Delia for bit.

"Well, I enjoy cooking a lot too," Delia said with a smile.

"I will also help!" Brock said.

"Me too!" Mallow and Clement joined.

"The more the better," Delia said as Serena, Lillie, Dawn, Brock, Mallow and Clemont entered the Kitchen. Ash, Pikachu (Sitting on Ash's shoulder) Gary, Misty (Sitting next to Gary), Paul, Alain, Kiawe, Lana, Gladion and Bonnie sat to watch TV. While they were watching TV, Gladion said something.

"What are you planning now Ash?" Gladion asked as lightning strike, signifying the coming of rain.

"I" Ash wondered. After thinking for sometime, he answered.

"I will stay with Mom and looked after the family farm for sometime," Ash said as Delia looked at him with a smile.

"You will?" Delia asked. Ash needed to merely nod his head for Delia eyes to warm up.

"I am so happy! I-I w-will!!" Delia wasn't able to complete her sentence due sheer happiness, she just went back to her cooking, determined to make something Ash will love!

After half an hour later, Pallet was in a storm, but Ketchum residence didn't care. The food was almost ready and The cooks were about to serve the meal when suddenly, the door knocked.

"Who the heck will come in this storm?" Ash said as went to open the door. The Moment he opened the Door, his face had reaction which was a mix of confusion and Anger.

"What are you doing here?" Ash asked in an Angry and confused voice.

Am I the only who thinks the Ones who betrayed are kind of underwhelming right?

Next Part: Ash Betrayed (Part - 2) – @krishgupt on Tumblr

[thedarkmysticsofvirus]

Continuing some character info

Alright it's already been a little while now and I should not have waited this long. continuing on with my dear oc Tanya right here let's discuss her interests. ╔════════════════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ════════════════╗ Interests - There aren't a lot of interests or hobbies that come to this darling right here but there are a few that caught her eye that she likes to keep hidden about. The first is Inventing; one of us saw this a mile away but she's seen something... beautiful out of it. intriguing mainly.. to create life itself not in the shape or form of a human, just something more of a use. might have seen it up close or afar, may take days, a month, or even a year... but the results came out worth it, depends. The second interest that came to mind is mushrooms; as a small child, she tends to wander around forests, inspecting and collecting mushrooms. now from middle school to university she's been studying them, alone. (The damn dedication.) it became too much of a hyper-fixation, she's tried to stop the small obsession with em but she couldn't help herself to do much. of course she wasn't open to talk about it too much. (Especially when this damn school is full of roses-) The third and last interest for is guns: reason is self-explanatory. Now that I got interests out of the way my favorite part to go with next is the dear small

ღ ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত ღ Relationships- this mf doesn't want to make any lasting relationships, ESPECIALLY when it comes to students in this school right here. but if it happens it is what it is, or you're being held hostage for it. let's start with the lovely few main cast here. Toro is one of the people she's actually alright hanging around with, their close enough that she can actually drop her guard for a while, he seemed like a decent guy at best. Misty on the other hand is a bit strange to her, in all, hasn't even trusted her at first but she seems friendly around her (and everybody else). Tanya started to get a little more acquainted to the silly chatter-box, even though at this point her angelic voice causes her ears to ring a bit, on the bright side she gives good fashion advice. Tanya doesn't associate with Mary too much unless if it's work related or if Misty is hanging around since she seems so "kind" around her. other than that, it's just complete silence around them, barely to acknowledge each other. good. Mary intimidates her. For Barry, she ain't even gonna be given a chance to speak. the moment he steps into the room there's a guarantee to be a long conversation. it's nothing much like Misty, oh no... by the looks of him he seems like a confident narcissist that (In pure.wav's words) would probably bully ya phycologically. to her, he's kind of just a little annoying, silly, but annoying. Now to Larry... hmm... what are some words I can describe... she does not like him well and he doesn't like her either. from the moment they've met it was hatred at first sight, they couldn't stand to look at each other unless if they were planning to strangle each other out 💞. maybe just maybe they'll slowly start to get along... but until that happens, they want to kill each other. Any who, I think that's all for today, thank you so much for listening to this dumb crap. got any questions then let me know, so I can cry to myself. have a good day/night.

[ellekhen]

Hand, Hearth, and Home

Chapter 1 - A Warding Bond

Summary

“I… envy you,” Astarion admits. “In your short life, you already seem to have had your share of… experiences,” he smirks at him suggestively for a fleeting moment. “And much of it seems to have been… enjoyable. Willing.” He flourishes a hand. “You know what I mean.”

Church smiles wistfully. “I try my best, but it hasn’t all been perfect. I’ve had my share of… mistakes.” His mouth twists a little.

“I certainly hope I’m not one of them,” Astarion half-heartedly jokes.

Church looks at him earnestly.

“No,” he says softly. “You’re not.”

Astarion flounders for a moment at that.

When Church loves, he loves with the intensity of the sun. His childhood friends know this well. But, when it comes to his lovers, the warlock tends to wield a much lighter, cautious touch… that is, until he begins to fall hard for a certain vampire spawn. In their respective, wary calculations every encounter, Astarion and Church know they very well could be the death of each other. But as the trust between them grows, Church learns to let go of the past that holds him back from embracing the future — no matter how uncertain it may be here at the vampire spawn’s side.

Pairing(s): Astarion x Male Tav (Main); Past OC x Male Tav Rating: Explicit

@lumienyx tagged me in a “why/how did your Tav fall?” prompt, and whoops, it turned into a fic!

Excerpt below:

The rogue and warlock are searching through one of the infirmaries when the tiefling lets out a small, intrigued gasp.

“Oh!” Church murmurs. “It’s the other half of that pair of rings. Remember? We found one on that justiciar’s skeleton.” He pulls out the ring in question from his pouch, comparing the two side by side before passing them both over to Astarion. The rogue examines them as the warlock gingerly retrieves the journal from the withered skeleton’s grasp.

As he begins to read it, his mouth twists. “Oh…” he repeats, albeit softer and more troubled.

Astarion peers over his shoulder. “What is it?”

“The husband’s journal,” Church murmurs. “It tells… a much different story.” He sighs, handing it over to the rogue as well. “Poor bastard.”

Astarion skims through it. Poor bastard indeed — blissfully blinded by love when all the justiciar was doing was using him as a shield. He has to admire that it was clever of the justiciar to deceive the fool into such an arrangement. Although, by the sound of the sorry sod’s journal entries, if his dark bride had simply asked, he may very well have entered the arrangement willingly — warding bond be damned.

At first Astarion scoffs — he simply doesn’t understand people who would thanklessly sacrifice themselves just that.

…but then he thinks — just for a moment.

Does he understand? Just a little?

The more he dwells upon it, the rings’ magic as described between the two texts is certainly fascinating as a concept…

“What’s on your mind?” Church asks him, crouching down to tug a disintegrating blanket over the skeleton, for some reason.

“Well, you know,” Astarion hesitates even as he offers. Why he even offers is a mystery. “Remember… just this morning? Those… things by the river?”

The warlock’s hand flies reflexively up to his neck. “Meazels,” he grimaces.

“…meazels,” Astarion nods, gesturing emphatically. “Anyways. Since you have, hm, a tendency to take hits fairly heavily… why don’t we… you know…” he makes a gesture that would have been lewd under any other circumstances, if not for his sincere expression. “That way, even when you’re far off, I can still protect you? Take a couple hits?”

Astarion never fathomed he would ever offer such a thing to anyone. He had offered to take punishment on behalf of a sibling only once, and Godey and Cazador both made sure that he regretted it more than anything else in the moment. Violet never bothered to return the favor anyways.

But Church…

…misty-stepped right in front of the wretched creature, blasting it away before its claws could reach Astarion. Damn it, the rogue scolded himself, he had gotten sloppy. Then again, none of them expected to be ambushed by such vicious creatures, especially ones that would go straight after their casters to —

He heard a strangled gasp. A meazel leapt out from the shadows, his wire whipping over Church’s neck. Astarion only had a split-second for their eyes to connect before both the struggling meazel and tiefling went hurtling over the edge of the building…

In the present, the elf gives the tiefling a meaningful look. If Astarion has to haul the warlock’s lifeless body from the ground one more time…

“No.” Church says firmly, waving him away.

“Oh, well,” Astarion says, somewhat relieved if a little miffed by how quickly the tiefling rejected the idea. “At least consider the practicality…”

“I am not going to let you be hurt because of my own carelessness,” Church snaps. “You read that journal. It’s a curse, not a blessing.”

“There’s no need for that tone,” Astarion retorts, taken aback by its harshness. “Don’t pretend you wouldn’t do the same for me.”

Church’s mouth twists and he sighs.

“…fine. You’re right — I would. But I don’t want to use these at all. I think we’ve been doing a pretty good job at covering each other’s backs lately, don’t you?” He smiles wanly at his lover. “We’ve been doing this… right, I think.”

Astarion regards him with amusement as he pockets the rings. “Doing this ‘right?’ I suppose if one of us has any idea of what that even means, it’s you.”

Church’s smile is gentle as he shrugs at him. “I’m hardly an expert, Astarion. I just do the same for you as I would for any friend, just with… you know, more…”

Astarion steps close to him, smirking as he tips the tiefling’s chin up in a kiss. Church hums softly, stumbling into him in his enthusiasm.

…it’s followed by a dry crunch.

The warlock startles, gingerly stepping off of the poor bastard in his bedroll. “Shit, sorry,” he mutters unnecessarily.

Astarion watches him, fondly.

“To be honest, I admire how easy it is for you to define what is ‘right’ in an arrangement such as ours. It’s…” he wheedles, “…admittedly not my area of expertise.”

“I…” Church frowns. “We’ve talked about this. I just don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do. It’s not that hard.”

“You’re sweet,” Astarion smirks. “But it’s not that straightforward for all of us.” He sighs, reluctantly stepping away from the warmth of him. “Although with you — perplexing as you often are — sometimes it is that simple. It’s… refreshing.”

Church glances away a little self-consciously, a little worriedly as the elf continues to study him.

“I… envy you,” Astarion admits. “In your short life, you already seem to have had your share of… experiences,” he smirks at him suggestively for a fleeting moment. “And much of it seems to have been… enjoyable. Willing.” He flourishes a hand. “You know what I mean.”

Church smiles wistfully. “I try my best, but it hasn’t all been perfect. I’ve had my share of… mistakes.” His mouth twists a little.

“I certainly hope I’m not one of them,” Astarion half-heartedly jokes.

Church looks at him earnestly.

“No,” he says softly. “You’re not.”

Astarion flounders for a moment at that.

“Well,” he says with a flustered laugh. “That at least is a relief.” He leers conspiratorially at the tiefling. “Why don’t we brighten this place up? Tell me about the good ones.”

Church frowns at him. “Honestly, I’m not sure how I feel about—?”

“—Oh, come on!” Astarion waves him away. “It’s fine. I’m bored. Humor me.”

Church studies him for a moment longer, before chuckling nervously. “Well… I snuck into a castle one time to visit a duke’s son…”

“I bet Wyll wishes that were him,” Astarion remarks, and the tiefling blushes purple beneath his dusky skin.

“Oh shush,” he laughs. “I had to run out of there for my life, clad only in a chaperon.”

He thinks for a moment.

“There was a half-elf bard in Baldur’s Gate — D’vana, if you’ve ever heard of her during your… nights out? Green skin, white poof of hair?”

Astarion shrugs. He’s not much in the habit of paying attention to the entertainment of his hunting grounds.

“Anyways, I used to visit her whenever I stopped by the city,” Church continues fondly. “We’d…”

“…make music together?” Astarion finishes for him suggestively. The tiefling huffs a laugh.

“We tried once or twice, but as you saw with Alfira, I’m hopeless with a lute,” he says with a sheepish grin. “No sense of rhythm… oh, wait.” He flushes. “That’s… not what you meant, was it?”

“Were you one of those adventurers who had a lover in every city?” Astarion asks in amusement.

“Lovers?” Church laughs. “No, nothing of the sort. Just… moments. Flights of fancy. Good friends,” he concedes, “but nothing more.”

“Well, those all sound like incredibly delicious moments with those friends of yours,” Astarion says lightly.

He waffles for a bit. “So are we… is this the first time you’ve done… something… like… this?” He waves his hand. “Whatever the hells this is.”

Something unreadable flashes across Church’s face as he glances away for a moment. The levity drains from his face even as he smiles softly back at the elf. “Do you mean something recurring? Exclusive?”

“I suppose,” Astarion drawls.

Church looks down, fiddling with the strap to his pouch.

“There were… a few,” he says softly, but then he blinks and straightens up, shrugging. “But nothing ever ended well.”

“Hm, well that doesn’t exactly bode well for us,” Astarion quips. The last word rings in the stale air for a moment.

“Us.” What a concept.

“I…” Church laughs nervously. “I don’t want to think like that,” he murmurs. He looks around to make sure they’re alone before reaching and grasping hold of Astarion’s hand, covering it with his other. He looks up into the elf’s eyes. “If anything, the past has just taught me to treasure each moment I can get with you,” he murmurs. “I… want to make each one last in my mind. I want to make sure…”

He trails off, and laughs a little, nervously.

“We should keep moving, shouldn’t we?” he says. “This… this is hardly the place to let our guard down.”

Astarion catches him before he can move away. The elf peers into the tiefling’s starry, yellow eyes, which struggle to hold his gaze as he stares back at him. Church’s lip quivers for just a moment, and Astarion pulls him into a soft, lingering kiss.

“Don’t tell me I’m the optimist in this arrangement,” he japes quietly. “I… like this, Church. No matter how it ends.”

Read more on Ao3!

[deadrlngers]

Vesper + 🦾🔮🩺 pls!! I'm intrigued 👀

vesper + johnny. the cringe fail duo my beloved. they hate each other sooooo much at first, johnny might be an asshole but vesper can be worse if you push her to that point. her first interactions with johnny are basically a 'oh he thinks he's an asshole? i'm going to show him who's a son of a bitch then.' they basically antagonize each other sooo much until they kinda...like to antagonize each other, you feel me? might be a fucked up way to bond but i mean, what's not fucked up about what happened to them. they become the type of besties that shit on everyone else, vesper ESPECIALLY likes when johnny shits on fenix bc the fact that fenix can't hear him but KNOWS when johnny is talking about him (bc vesper can't stop her snarky laugh) pisses him off soooooooooo much. they have their moments tho, sometimes vesper just wants to make johnny shut the fuck up but after getting rid of him,,yea she kinda misses him, won't say it out loud but it's clear when sometimes she turns to speak with him only to find silence ://

vesper + misty. ah..this is the kind of 'that's the gf of my best friend so i have to act polite and friendly at all costs' case. or at least at the start of their relationship. they would chat a few times, vesper would ask her how she's doing out of politeness and that would be it. it's not that she thinks anything bad of misty but they're kinda too different, misty is a 'head in the clouds' type of person for vesper, while she has her feet firmly planted on planet earth, let's say that. still tho, she always thought highly of misty, she has a good heart and made jackie very happy so vesper had no problem with her at all. it's tragedy that brings them together, as tragedy usually does. vesper was truly touched by misty's care and attention after everything that happened with the heist and the fact they both lost someone so dear to them truly brought them together. i think vesper would take a bullet for misty, she would do ANYTHING for her if she asked

vesper + viktor. let's..let's start with a reveal here..vesper had one big crush on viktor. veeeery big. vesper would always ask jackie if he was going to visit viktor and if she could tag along jdkfhk, viktor is the kindest of the souls in that damn city and vesper was starving for some kindness when they met. i think viktor knew, maybe, and maybe was flattered by the attentions but that's it. he was a boxer, she was a boxer, they clicked very easily over that. her, viktor and jackie would meet to watch matches together, and vesper has playfully challenged him to a little friendly boxing match too a few times. i think they both care for each other a lot and are very good friends!! vesper needs to hide her embarassment at times bc she's plagued by memories of every stupid thing she did to spend time with him kfjdfhjds

+ answering this one here!!

tancred + saul. rubbing my evil little hands together. still unsure if they meet up in canon or not tbh but i'll pretend that they do rn. first reaction: tancred thinks saul is hot. he'd probably want to fuck him once, or twice, some fun among the desert u know. aside from that, he would be wary as tancred usually is, other nomads clans can mean trouble for HIS nomad family so he's always like..attentive, ready to put a knife behind's someone back or a bullet. they would be civil to one another, maybe even have some kind of "alliance"? helping each other etc but i think saul would think tancred a bit too crazy to actually engage with him for more than a few chats or a few funny silly nights. insane in the head as insane in the pussy as they say JKDFHNDSKJF

[frogtanii]

“hi everyone,” you gave your webcam a half hearted wave, noting the flood of inquisitive comments at your demeanor.

ynismymommy: omg queen r u ok??????

emilia.95: Have you been sleeping?

atsumus-leftballsack: bestie imma need you to invest in some concealer

a giggle pried it’s way up your throat, despite your attempts to stop it as you read the comments. yes, you were fully aware that you looked like shit however, you just weren’t expecting the viewers of your stream to be so... observant.

“holy shit guys, i’m okay,” you attempted to placate your vicious audience by giving them a (forced) smile and a small chuckle. “let’s just play, okay?”

you loaded up your game of choice (call of duty — you had a lot of aggression to work off) while making idle chatter with your fanbase. they seemed to have dropped conversation about your heavy eye bags and low enthusiasm in favor of more lighthearted topics.

just as you were starting to get into it, a knock sounded at your door. at first, you were tempted to ignore it but after a few moments of silence, the knocking started up again, more incessantly. your comments started to go wild, wondering who exactly was banging on your door at like 11p.

bokutos.bahamamommamilkers: tell whoever is @ the door to fuck off

shartyba3_420: damn slam me yn like [redacted] is slamming on that door

Greg_72: Hey, you can go answer that! We’ll wait <3

you apologize quickly before removing your headphones and scurrying over to the door. swinging it wide open, you’re met with bokuto.

and what a sight he is.

once bright, golden eyes were now dull and void, accompanied by dark circles that rivaled your own while his usually sunny visage was dampened by this metaphorical dark cloud that was hanging above him.

in other words, he looked like shit.

the both of you must look like quite a pair — you in your ratty, oversized hoodie and red sweats and him in his white t shirt and flannel pajama pants. after giving him another glance over, you repressed the urge to pull him into your room and into a hug, instead choosing to wrap your arms around yourself tightly.

“um, hey bo,” you started, unable to keep your eyes on his face. “i’m really sorry but i’m streaming right now. maybe we can hang out later?”

bokuto shook his head no, and your heart began to sink. you were just so tired and you didn’t have the energy to entertain or comfort the man at the moment without letting another piece of yourself crumble but you knew you didn’t have the heart to turn him away.

resigning yourself to your fate, you stepped to the side to let him into your room, making a mental note to shield him from your webcam while you brought him to lie on your bed.

to your complete and utter surprise, bokuto did not move, shaking his head no again before moving to grab something just out of your sight behind your doorway.

you were now thoroughly intrigued, shuffling closer to peek into the hallway, only to be stopped by a box being thrusted into your hands. you looked over the colorfully painted cardboard but it gave you no indication as to what was on the inside and glancing at kotarou gave you no help whatsoever.

“what’s this?” you voiced your confusion while weighing the box in your hands, the confusion only amplifying when you discover the box is suspiciously light. you’re shaken from your investigation when bokuto throws another object in your hands, this one significantly heavier.

looking up at him, you’re taken aback by the emotion swirling in his irises, his mouth finally parting to speak. “i’m so sorry,” kotarou’s voice, while gravelly from disuse, was sincere, a slight quiver being found underlying his words. “i- i know i never said it but i just want you to know that i-i care about you and that i am so sorry for ever hurting you and making you feel like you were less than. y-you’ve helped me become myself again a-and i can never thank you enough.”

a shuddering breath left his chest as he trained his eyes on the ceiling before looking back at you with watery eyes. “you don’t have to forgive me. i-i’d understand.” you opened your mouth to respond, to rebut, but you were cut off by his strong arms, wrapping you up in a tight hug.

you couldn’t keep yourself from melting into his hold, a small ounce of stress leaving your body at his words but the bulk of it remaining. he’s just apologizing because you’re the only girl who’s shown him an ounce of kindness, the voice in the back of your head whispered.

as bokuto pulled you in tighter, you stiffened, the voice getting louder and more constant. the man holding you didn’t miss the way you tensed and hesitantly removed himself from you, his hurt written plain all over his face.

kotarou gave you a weak smile and another gentle apology before turning and leaving for his room. you already felt guilt creeping up your spine for not holding him the way you thought you should but you quickly pushed the feeling down, knowing that you wouldn’t have gotten the rest you deserved if you’d done so.

letting out a deep sigh, you shut your door and moved back to continue your stream, not before gently setting down the 2 colorfully decorated boxes on the bed, a small smile creeping across your face at the sight of the gifts.

your stream ended pretty shortly after, your mind unable to focus on the game — it was getting borderline embarrassing how often you were dying to the point you were worried your sponsors would pull out of supporting you.

with a soft smile and goodbye, you collapsed on your bed, mindful not to crush the boxes. while you were extremely exhausted, you knew you wouldn’t be able to go to sleep without examining your gifts’ contents.

you decided to open the heavier box first which yielded bag after bag of your favorite chips, candies, and drinks. you knew your mouth was gaping unattractively but you couldn’t help it. this was... way too much.

at the bottom of the box was a small note, written in bokuto’s somehow endearing chicken scratch. it read, “hi yn!!!! this is for when you get hungry :) i know i didn’t let you eat any of my snacks for a long time so i thought it would be nice if i bought some for you!!!!! i hope i got these all right :( i asked atsumu for help!!!”

a choked chuckle escaped your lips and it only amplified as you continued to the end of the note. “p.s. don’t worry about not finishing it all!!! i can always help you ;) p.p.s. also you’re so pretty!!!! don’t not eat it because you don’t think so too <3”

wiping your eyes that had become suspiciously misty, you set down the slip of paper and reached for the second box.

you couldn’t keep the gasp from coming from you as the cardboard overflowed with tiny slips of paper. with shaky hands, you unfolded the first paper, the tears overflowing over your lashline before you could stop them.

you are loved :) - akaashi

“fuck,” you whispered, swiping at your face before clumsily reaching for another, and then another, each note making you cry harder than the last.

you are beautiful!!!!! never change!! - bokuto!!!

you’re really cool - kenma

you are so kind and i owe you the world - sugawara :)

you’re sympathetic, observant, and intelligent. - sakusa.

you are patient (even when we don’t deserve it) - kuroo

yer my angel <3 - tsum tsum

there were a ton more but you promised yourself you’d read them all later, your emotions getting the better of you. you’d rather not wake up with puffy, swollen eyes and a headache so you decided it would be best to close the box and finish it all later.

laying back on your bed, you expelled a deep breath of air, not realizing just how tense you were. you’d been living on edge with the guys for at least a month now and it was really starting to wear on you.

without being able to fully trust them, you knew it wouldn’t be long until you crumbled under the pressure.

you glanced at your phone before sighing again (it really was that kind of day, wasn’t it). maybe it was about time to give dr yamada a long awaited call.

℗ poker face

you are loved :)

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - ooweee first single apology down, 4 more to go!!! also the box of papers came from everyone (obv) but they still gotta give their individual apologies hehe which shall come in the future <33 sorry this took so long KSJD i hope u enjoy!!! don’t forget to feed me <333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @sazunari • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @amberalisa • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[ecliptsukki]

falling for you ❧ kaoru sakurayashiki / cherry blossom

navigation | music

➣ genre: fluff, slight comedy

➣ warnings: cursing

➣ a/n: i’m far too in love with this man. i can’t help myself. also if you have anything you want me to write, send it to my inbox!

- he first met you at "S," seeing you stood by langa and reki

- his silky pink hair flowed behind him in the wind, his bangs lifting to reveal his golden eyes. those golden orbs are locked on you the entire time he skates closer to you

- the lack of bickering that usually arose between cherry and joe had caught joe's attention

- joe notices cherry's gaze on a particular y/h/c. he almost snorts, almost, but, being a teasing lil bitch kidding, he decides to jab at cherry's side

- "hey, do you see that girl over there? she's cute, isn't she?"

- the bubblegum-colored hair male glares holes into his friends head

- "i'm sure she wouldn't be interested in a muscle-brained gorilla like yourself"

- "bOI, DID YOU JUST-"

- skates off into the distance, further closing the gap between the two of you

- girls and guys start cheering for and fawning over cherry, as well as joe. this catches your attention because you're surprised mostly by the fawning of the people. honestly, you wouldn't say that anyone you've seen there is worthy of so much attention, excluding your two best buds: langa and reki.

- you're actually older than reki and langa by 3 years. you met reki on coincidence.

- you had borrowed your friend's skateboard to cruise around the town. you had felt overwhelmed with all that had been going on in your life, and you wanted to find an escape. your friend, wanting to help you with that mission, offered the board, saying "it's really fun and gets your mind off of things whenever you need." obviously, you took up on the offer because it was a nice spring day: the sun out and the bright colors of nature and the city filling your misty eyes.

- you skated by the skate park and saw a particular redhead practicing ollies and other tricks. you were impressed by the skill he had portrayed, yet you were also envious of how light he seemed, how his eyes twinkled with joy. your gaze must've rested too long on the boy because he approached you soon after.

- reki, later on, introduced you to langa, bringing you to where you were today

- you came to "S," though unwillingly, to support langa in his beef against another fellow skater

- honestly, you detested that your younger friends were participating in illegal activities but never brought it up because you saw how happy they looked whenever they spoke about the beefs

- anYWAYS-

- looking into the distance, you see a masked man in a white yukata, hair flowing behind him, and a green haired, shirtless, buff man skating closer

- "who's that?" you ask your friends

- "oh! that's cherry blossom and joe. they are the founding members of "S." cherry has an ai board, and joe has incredible power," reki pips

- you nod, acknowledging the two men as they stepped off of their skateboards

- “well hello there,” the green haired man winks at you

- “hi,” you flush, eyes wandering between his gaze and his bare chest

- “what’s a pretty little lady like yourself doing with these two kids?”

- “uh-”

- reki tries to jump joe but is held back by langa because we know that reki doesn’t stand a chance against big muscle man

- joe gets all up and comfy with you, flexing his muscles and talking about who knows what

- your attention was mostly on the blue-nette friend of yours. you were still very anxious about this entire thing

- “she’s not even paying attention to you anymore, you idiot,” the masked man speaks

- embarrassed that they noticed your rude behavior, you begin to excessively apologize

- “no, please don’t apologize. i should’ve realized you were worried about your friends,” joe says modestly

- “there’s no need to worry about snow. he’s fully capable of staying safe. we’ve seen him skate many times, and he always comes out in one piece. i’m sure you’ll be impressed as well,” cherry says in his monotonous tone

- “snow?” you tilt your head to the side in confusion

- when i tell you cherry MELTED, i mean that he MELTED

- stomach? churning. heart? fluttering. cheeks? flushing. hotel? trivago

- bRO, why are you SO FUCKING ADORABLE

- “snow is langa,” joe explains when he notices cherry’s flustered silence

- “ohhhhhh-”

- “actually, i’ve just realized. we haven’t properly introduced ourselves. call me joe,” he looks expectantly at his friend

- “you may call me cherry,” the man thanked the lords that he wore a mask because if he wasn’t, you’d see the obvious rose tint on his cheeks

- “i’m y/n! i came here with reki and langa.”

- to say cherry’s heart broke in that moment would be an understatement. his heart was more so shattered and pulverized.

- did i just fall for a minor? FU-

- “but i’m older than them, of course.”

- lemme just pick up the shards of my broken heart and re-piece it back together

- you barely talked to cherry that night his fault for acting so cold, but you were intrigued by the man. i mean he skates on a talking skateboard, how can you not?

- cherry leaves “S” that night, regretting all his life decisions because instead of talking to you, he avoided you

- who knows when’s the next time he’d meet you?

- lmao, SiKe

- you walk into sakurayashiki calligraphy, awkwardly waiting to be interviewed

- his pink hair meets your eyes, the long, silky hair framing the man’s pale face. a pair of glasses rest on the bridge of his nose, enhancing his golden eyes. he is clad in a navy blue yukata

- hm, he looks familia-

- you almost gasp aloud, as you realize who he is

- not wanting to jump to conclusions, you ask, “have we met before?”

- kaoru is freaking out, though he hides it well under his professional mask

- what the heck? she’s the one looking for a job here?

- “yes, we have, but that’s not what we’re here to talk about”

- yiKeS, nice first impression on your, hopefully, new boss, y/n

- throughout the entire interview, you impressed him with the slightest of things

- you were beyond professional and exactly what he looked for in employees

- damn it. why is she so perfect?

- you walk out of the building with the brightest smile on your face, ecstatic with the news that you had been hired

- kaoru follows closely behind you, acting gentlemanly as he leads you out

- “thank you so, so much. i promise i will work my hardest to make your business even stronger and better than before”

- “no, the honor’s all mine. i can tell that you’ll become a valuable asset”

- you’re bowing your head and thanking him to a crazy amount that he starts to worry that you’re getting dizzy

- mustering up all the courage he could, he speaks up, “actually, i don’t really like talking about the skating half of my life...”

- you mutter a genuine apology for bringing it up before

- “it’s alright, but i was wondering if you wanted to go to “S” with me next time. i understand if you decline. i won’t fire you for it,” he tries to add a joke to lighten his tense mood

- you giggle at his nervous and awkward behavior, “good to know i won’t get fired if i say no, but sure! i wouldn’t mind going again. it’s a good opportunity to let me watch over reki and langa—”

- “that-that’s great,” he sighs with relief

- “—and i can get to know you better,” you mutter quietly under your breath

- he flushes, hearing what you said perfectly

- “i wouldn’t mind that either”

- you couldn’t sleep that night, thinking about the soft smile on kaoru’s face, whilst kaoru was busy sleeping, lost in his dreams of you and him together

- the both of you couldn’t wait to get to know each other more

[andraaste]

I am not your enemy - Lance fanfiction part 24

Hello Guardians ! I’ve the honor to announce that chapter 24 of I am not your enemy is online ! The machine is on the way aha, the chapters are linked to my greatest pleasure.

I wish you a good read, and don’t hesitate to give me your feedback ✨

Ps : What are your speculations for the next ? 👀

Chapter 24 : Don’t blame me for hugging you

The smell of blood filled my nostrils, leaving an unpleasant taste of iron in my mouth.

But fatigue won quickly, seizing me more and more, it pushed my eyes to close despite my fears. Stripped of all energy, I wanted to abandon everything, to forget these last nightmarish hours and their physical vestiges that marked my body. Every one of my muscles hurt incredibly as I lay on the hard mattress. However, I had no desire to sit up and leave the protective vice in which I was confused in this misty sleep.

Between the space of our intertwined arms, Lance had fallen asleep in just a few seconds, his fever having visibly drained him of his last strength. This is how I savored the peaceful silence of the room, the calm breathing of the dragon as the only melody.

How long had we been in this bed ?

Making do with my fatigue, I opened my eyelids to shamelessly observe this man who finally abandoned himself without restraint in my arms, the light from the ceiling illuminating us with its harsh brightness. Earlier, Lance had been more...open. And fragile, to me. He had clearly stated that I could hurt him in other ways than physically, and since then I couldn't help wondering what exactly he meant by that and, above all, if that was enough to imply  that his feelings for me had changed.

My pain increased when I observed the many red traces that crisscrossed his face with features always so straight and perfect, lingering for a moment on the white scar that barred his nose. How many would he have now ?

Lazily, my fingers began to caress his rough cheek with a light gesture as I tried in vain to silence my thoughts.

Several questions floated in my mind, grabbing all my attention.

My hand froze between us for a moment before slowly descending. Without thinking, I covered her heart with my warm palm.

Was it beating the same as mine ?

Suddenly, the door leaf behind me swung open, making me jump in surprise. Instinctively, I tore myself from the arms of the young man in order to maintain a certain distance between us, but I knew it was a waste of time because Nevra looked at us with a somewhat intrigued look, probably not expecting to find us like this.

For only reaction, the dragon growled while slapping a hand on his face.

- I'm sorry to wake you up, but I have to talk to Lance immediately now that we've been able to get away from the lands of Genkaku, said the vampire without the slightest ounce of regret in his eyes. I'm waiting for you in the office.

The door closed behind him, leaving us in a strangely heavy silence. The Obsidian leader withdrew his hand while staring blankly at his arm, which a moment earlier had held me tightly pressed against him.

A look of gloom covered his features.

- I hadn't thought about the fact that we might be seen but you quickly got out of my arms, well done.

Guilt overwhelmed me then under his hurt gaze. No...

- It's not...

- Forget it, he cut me off. I'm just tired, it puts me in a bad mood.

His face hardened with pain as he struggled to straighten himself up in bed. I stood up to help him when his big hand stopped me in my tracks.

- I'm better Andraste, don't worry about me.

- You have a lot of fever and your wounds are still open, you should let me help you.

The young man ignored my words.

- I think you'd better go back to your room, the others will probably be embarrassed to find you in the men's dormitory. And... he hesitated for a moment then continued, surprisingly more gently, you better take care of your wounds now. You can ask Koori if you need help.

Then, giving me no opportunity to respond, he slipped out into the hallway without looking back.

Damn it !

I buried my face in my hands, blowing loudly as I passed.

Why did every time our relationship took one step forward, we had to take two steps back ? I was seriously beginning to wonder if we would ever manage to find common ground because, in this close bond, I think we were both far too open-hearted.

Stop hurting us continually.

Pushing the duvet with a big movement, I extricated myself from the rest of our body heat to find the cold parquet floor, letting the anger rise in me.

- Very well Don Juan, you're changing your mood with me again, I said while pulling the duvet again to put it back on the couch correctly. Oh but no worries, I'm not mad. No no no, absolutely not !

I turned around feverishly when I came across Mathieu's uncomfortable gaze, a damp shower towel resting on his shoulder.

- Oh, Mathieu...

The latter planted a hand in his hair, ruffling it in the process.

- I'm glad to see that you're in good shape, Andraste.

That'll teach you to talk to yourself, silly.

- Yes indeed, it could have been worse. I see you're fine too, that's the main thing, I say while aiming at him with one hand. I've to go take a shower, I think I really need it. See you tomorrow Mathieu, rest well.

I closed the bathroom door behind me, keeping my hands on its wooden panel.

Despite his more than unpleasant last words, I couldn't help worrying about Lance's condition. His interview with Nevra was in danger of dragging on when he really needed a rest.

One by one, I painstakingly removed my damaged clothes, all my muscles hurting excruciatingly now that the adrenaline had subsided. Covered in blood, dirt and probably more, I would send them to a corner of the room before turning on the water. The steam soon began to cloud the mirror in front of me.

Arms along the body, I observed myself without real attention when a detail caught my tired gaze. My belly felt a little different. I was a little different. My fingers traveled the area concerned without really being able to put my finger on this strange impression.

Finally, I entered the shower with a weary gesture.  Raising my head, I let the water run down my face, slowly removing the vestiges of this adventure in the snowy lands. I was lifting my wrist to grab some soap when my eyes were drawn to dark marks on my wrist.

Tenjin.

In an instant, I relived those moments spent alongside this despicable man. His huge icy hands, his claws that had pierced my skin many times.

When I brought the soap to me, my hand began to shake unreasonably. I closed my eyes as tears mingled with the water that washed over me, clutching the small object hungrily between my fingers.

- It's over, Andraste. He won't be able to do anything to you anymore... I tried to repeat myself between my trembling teeth, tightening my arms morbidly around my body.

But my tears increased, flowing more and more under the deafening rustle of the jet.

The faces of my teammates appeared to me. I saw them fighting again, defending themselves against these faithless enemies.

All of this took me way too far back seven years.

Was I really made for this world ? On Earth, I had always led a simple, even comfortable life. Some of my ancestors might well have been aengels, but I had never been prepared for it.

And that I didn't feel able to confront it.

Suddenly, I noticed with astonishment that the door slammed behind me. I jerked my head around, fleetingly brushing strands of wet hair against my cheeks.

My eyes widened when I saw Lance standing behind me. Nonchalantly, he took off his shoes and then part of his clothes, showing the already bloodstained bandages that surrounded him.

His gaze never left me as he opened the shower window.

Without giving me time to understand, his hands then surrounded me, pressing my dripping body against his. His face dug into my hair as his fingers dug behind my head.  Stunned, I remained motionless for a long moment while the water soaked the fabrics that still covered him. Lance hugged me tightly, almost desperately. Slowly, I lifted my arms to his shoulders, wrapping him in turn with my still shaking hands.

Putting his lips against my neck, I felt them move in an inaudible complaint.

Was he... crying ?

His broad shoulders rounded under my hands, his palms pressed me even harder.

It was in this cramped shower, with white, sinuous walls, that Lance finally lowered his barriers for me. And it was without a word, not even a sound escaping him, that he allowed me to really discover him for the very first time.

When the jerking of his shoulders calmed down until it finally stopped, I decided to slowly pull away from him. The dragon didn't protest, even when I pulled his face up to mine.

- Forgive me, my angel, he begged me. I know this isn't the first and probably won't be the last time I've done this, but I'm sincerely sorry. Tonight, when I saw you in front of Tenjin... I was mortified at the thought of losing the dearest person to me again. I know I don't have the right, but I don't go a single day without dragging my remorse. Everything I've done haunts me, it constantly eats me up. How can I deserve to breathe again when I could do this to my own brother ? I'm a monster, Andraste. What gives me hope that I can rest in your arms ? Why are you letting me do this ?

In his tirade, his fingernails pressed hard against my flesh.

- Lance, I can't tell you it's not a big deal, I started in an almost impassive voice. Your actions are... terrible. And unfortunately, no one will ever really forget them. But...

Despite myself, my intonation began to vibrate. Talking about all this... it was just impossible.

- But don't blame me for hugging you. Because I'll do it again, again and again, even when you finally realize that you have the right to deserve the love of others. I know that you have always felt alone, and apart, even misunderstood, but I also know that you have never learned to receive. Valkyon... he died knowing full well what was going to happen, because he never lost his faith in you, I added much more difficultly. I'm sure he knew you would one day find your redemption, because despite all these unforgivable acts, you're still the only one who keeps me going. I'm not saying that things are simple, or even that they'll eventually become so...

His eyes locked on mine so intently that I lost myself in them for a moment. Thus, it's with all my will that I managed to finish the sentence which finally freed the air trapped in his rib cage.

- But don't prevent me from always falling a little more in love with you.

In truth,

no matter how hard I looked, I didn't have the faintest idea

when I fell deeply in love with my worst enemy.

(Chapter 25)

[trulymadlysydney]

Scorpio Season: Two

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

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

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

Read Part One Here

***Do Not Repost Without Permission***

It’s Halloween, and Misty is drunk.

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

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

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

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

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

Harry smirks. “You doing alright?”

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

“Can’t, love.”

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

“Who says I’m not having fun?”  

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

“And yet here you are.”

Misty giggles.  “You know what I meaaaan.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And God, Harry wishes that too.

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

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

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

“You’re stupid.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Misty pouts.  “Not the same.”

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

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

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

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

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

Misty frowns.  “I know.  Sucks.”

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

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

“Don’t you want to?”

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

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

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

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

“Oh.”  Misty frowns.  “That sucks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Quick thinking there, sunshine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Misty--” He says quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not happy to see me?” Josh pouts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I really could kill him,” Harry adds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not what you said last time.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fucker,” Harry adds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” Misty lies.

“No,” Harry adds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Misty sighs. “He is. But—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck Josh.  Where does he get off?”

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

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

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

“You really want to know what happened?”

“If you don’t mind,” Harry says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know,” Harry offers.  “I do, too.”

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

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

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

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

Misty looks almost relieved.  “Alright.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi. Ghosts don’t get scared.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What, love?”

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

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

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

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

Misty giggles.  “Yeah, I guess so.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait, don’t go!”

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

“Can you sleep with me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s it like then?”

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

“If you want me to be,” he answers.

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

“What?”

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

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

“You can enter anybody’s dream?”

“Mhm.”

“At any time?”

“At any time.”

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

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

“Can you come into my dream tonight?”

“If you want me to, yeah.”

“Can you make me dream about you?”

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

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

Harry snorts. “Why ‘ew?’”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He totally was,” Rosie replies.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When Misty stares blankly ahead, Harry laughs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have a tickle in your throat?”

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

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

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

“Oh is it that stupid paper for english?” Lindsey nods sympathetically.  “I worked on it like, all night last night.”

“Yeah,” Misty lies,  “I have to work on it.  I promise in a few hours I’ll be right back down to--”

“No worries, baby, do your thing!” Lindsey says, shooing Misty with her hand. “I get it.  You’re good.”

“Thanks.”  Misty begins making her way out of the kitchen without even sparing so much as a glance in Harry’s direction. “I want to hear all about it later though.”

Misty storms up the stairs with Harry close on her heels. He is giggling the entire way, but Misty doesn’t even smile.  It’s about halfway up the stairs that Harry begins to get a bit nervous.

“You have to admit that was good,” he says through his laughter, obviously trying to lighten the mood.  “Come on.”

Misty ignores him, continuing her path to her room.  When she arrives, she doesn’t even check to see that Harry is behind her.  She closes the door a bit harder than she intends, and Harry effortlessly glides through it.  The silence that follows is absolutely deafening.

She turns, agonizingly slowly to face him, and the look on her face is unreadable.  Harry isn’t sure if the smirk on his own face is appropriate or not, so he tries his best to suppress it while he waits for her to say something.  When she doesn’t, his lips twitch.

“I take it you’re angry,” he tries.

“How could you do that?!” Misty hisses, the sort of whisper that’s stupidly loud.  He knows she isn’t angry, not fully, but he almost worries he took things a step too far.

“Sunshine, I’m sorry, I didn’t--”

“Made me look like a fucking idiot.” Misty runs her hands through her hair and shakes her head at him.  “And for what?  So you could get a laugh?”

Harry tries desperately not to smirk, but the corners of his lips turn up ever so slightly-- giving him away. “Yeah.”

Misty stops, not exactly expecting that answer.  She pauses for a moment before sighing through her nose and closing her mouth.  “Ridiculous,” she mumbles, before brushing past Harry to rummage through her closet.

“I really think you should lighten up,” Harry says, walking over and plopping himself on her bed.  “Wasn’t meant to be a personal attack.”

“Lighten up?!” Misty says, whirling around on her heels.  She hesitates, realizing that she’s raised her voice a tick too loud.  She takes a step towards Harry, lowering her voice significantly before speaking.  “You think I need to lighten up?  Harry, you--”

“I didn’t mean to ruin your bloody day, Misty, Christ.  I was just trying to make you laugh.”

“Well don’t.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

There’s an intense pause between them, and Harry doesn’t shy away from Misty’s intimidating stare.  In fact, there is hardly any emotion on his face at all, and Misty can’t tell whether it infuriates her or turns her on. She can feel the blood rushing to her cheeks growing hotter by the second, and she lets out a flustered sigh.

“You seem like you have something else to say,” Harry states calmly.

It’s so unfair, Misty thinks.  It really fucking is.  She scrambles to find words to express how she’s feeling, but her brain is cloudy with the thought of how goddamn attractive he is. When she really thinks about it, she isn’t angry at all, really.  The thought of Harry being able to do whatever he wants to her- whenever he wants- in front of people both embarrasses her and makes her excited.  

Truth be told, she’s never been more excited in her entire life.

Harry raises his eyebrows expectantly.  “Well?”

“I don’t have anything else to say,” Misty says quietly.

“Are you sure?”  Harry asks, rising to his feet and taking a cautious step towards her.

Misty lets out a frustrated breath, reaching up to push her hair off of her face.  “Yes, I’m sure! Will you stop doing that?”

Harry scoffs, mockingly.  “Stop doing what, Misty?  Trying to call you out on what we both know is true?”

“No!” Misty’s voice is dangerously loud, and she catches herself again before she can get any louder.  She rolls her eyes at herself before continuing at a much softer pace.  “Stop… looking at me like that.”

And oh, now Harry understands.

Harry shakes his head.  “I’m not looking at you like anything.”

“Yes you are!” she insists, closing the space between them just the tiniest bit more.  “You’re always looking at me like… like that!”  She gestures indistinctly.

Harry licks his lips, eyebrow subconsciously raising challengingly.  “I’m going to need you to be more specific, Misty.”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“Sunshine,” he drawls, voice thick as honey,  “all I ever want is to make you happy.  That’s a promise.”

Misty swallows, nostrils flaring as she tries to get her breath under control. “Harry, I…”  She trails off, because truth be told she doesn’t know where she was even going with this thought.

“What?” he asks, taking another step towards her.  “Tell me.”

After a beat of intense silence Misty groans.  “I don’t know! You’re so annoying and you’re so perfect and you make me so happy and I just--”

“What?” Harry says, inching closer.  “You just what?”

Misty lowers her voice, eyes thick with sadness.  “I just… don’t want to be feeling this way about you.  I can’t.  But you make it impossible to not.”

“To not what?”

“Fall for you.”  Misty sighs.  “I’m trying so hard not to because… well, you’re not actually here  are you?”

“Can you see me?”  Harry asks, matter-of-factly.

“Well, yes, but--”

“I’m here.”  Harry reaches forward, lightly caressing Misty’s arm.  “I’m right here Misty.”

Misty glances down to his hand, then back up at him.  “Harry, I don’t know what I’m feeling.”

He pulls away, not wanting to pressure her into feeling any type of way at all. “What do you mean?”

“I mean-- God.”  She lets out all of her air and shakes her head, almost cynically.  “Harry I… really, really like you.”

If Harry had blood running through his veins, it would run cold at her words.  “You do?”

“Have I not made it obvious?”  Misty scoffs.  “Fuck, dude, you’re so perfect.”

“I’m not,” Harry says in a breath.  He steps forward.  “Misty, I’m not.”

“You are,” she insists.  “I want you so bad, Harry.  And I’m scared.”

Harry processes her words slowly, and he knows he shouldn’t say what he’s about to say. But he does it anyway.

“I’m scared, too,” he admits softly, feeling more human than he’s felt in a long time.

“I’m scared that I’m going to really fall for you,” Misty continues, “because I know you’re just going to have to leave in the end. And I’m going to be sad, and I’m going to miss you, and—“

“Well then why don’t we just pretend?” Harry tries. “We’ve still got a few more weeks, haven’t we?”

“Yes, but the thought of you leaving won’t go away, Harry! It’s all I can think about. Every time I feel something for you I’m reminded of our situation and how you’ll never actually be mine.”

“I hate it,” Harry agrees, his own voice matching hers in volume now. “I absolutely hate it, but Misty, we can’t let that thought hang over the time we have left like a raincloud.”

“But--”

“You make me feel alive again, Misty!” Harry doesn’t mean to cut her off, but he can’t help it.  “I know that’s forward, and we haven’t known each other for all that long, but it’s true.”

Misty looks like she wants to cry, and her eyes feel thick and heavy.  She wills herself not to break, taking a moment to regain her composure before speaking.  “Harry, I don’t know what to do,” she whispers.  “I don’t… we can’t--”

Harry leans in, taking Misty’s chin in between his thumb and forefinger.  He tilts her head up softly, effectively quieting her, and she realizes her lips are still parted. Harry can feel her breath, and it feels far too intimate to be real.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, voice tender and quiet.

Misty blinks up at him. “God,” she breathes, “I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that.”

Harry smiles, leaning in gently and fastening their lips together slowly.  He takes her top lip between his own, and he can feel her instantly relax against him. She smiles faintly into the kiss as well, but makes no movement to pull him closer— as if she’s still a bit unsure.  He kisses her again, then pulls away, scanning her face for any sign of discomfort.

“How do you feel?” He asks after a moment.

“Like I want to do that for the rest of my life.”  Misty reaches up to cup Harry’s face and bring him in for another kiss.  

Harry, of course, happily complies to her nonverbal request, snaking his hands around her waist and holding her gently to him.  He timidly peeks his tongue out, gliding along her lip as if asking for permission, and she willingly submits— opening her mouth for him to lick into.

Misty giggles into his mouth the minute their tongues interact, and it makes Harry pull away. “What?”

“You taste good,” she says. “You taste…. sweet. I don’t know. I love it.”

“Oh.” He grins, pulling her back into him to pick up immediately where they left off.

It’s beautiful, and Harry feels happier than he’s felt in a long time now that he’s finally kissing her. He licks into her mouth softly, trying to convey all the words he isn’t yet brave enough to say.

“Harry.”  Misty pulls away, smiling up at him.  She’s so happy that it feels like everything her eyes land on is glowing. “God, I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

“Why didn’t you do it then?  I wanted it, too!”

“Well why didn’t you?!”

Harry grins.  “Wanted to see how long until you gave in, I suppose.”  When Misty rolls her eyes, Harry chuckles.  “Alright I’m kidding.  I guess I was just… scared.”

“Me too,” Misty admits.  “I mean… feelings are scary one way or another, but then when you add our situation in there its…”

“Weird as fuck,” Harry says, nodding.  “Yeah.  I hate it.”  He smiles, cupping the back of her neck and bumping his nose tenderly against hers.  “But I don’t fully. I’m very happy that I have you, sweet girl.”

Misty smiles, leaning gently into his touch.  “Kiss me again,” she asks,  “Please.”

Harry grins, pulling her close to him and pressing his lips gently to her forehead.  “With pleasure.”

They continue like this for a while, giggly and unsure and so, so happy.  It is weird, as they both admitted, but it’s so incredibly wonderful and fills both of their hearts with a warmth that neither of them have felt for a while.  And as Harry continues to kiss against Misty’s smile, he forgets his situation— if only for a moment— to revel in the fact that he’s kissing the most beautiful girl he’s ever known.

He doesn’t think his entire existence could ever get better than it is right now.

------

Later that night, Misty sits cross legged on her bed, fresh from a shower and rubbing lotion into her arms while Harry explores her vinyl collection.  She’s wearing the cutest t-shirt and pajama shorts combo Harry thinks he’s ever seen, and it’s driving him crazy.  Things are definitely not awkward between them by any means, but the whole situation feels silly and exciting, like two middle schoolers who just admitted they had a mutual crush on one another.

Misty nods towards the Fleetwood Mac record Harry currently holds in his hands.  “I found that one at a garage sale,” she says.  “Luckiest find of my life.”

“No kidding.”  Harry turns, smiling at her.  He holds the record up.  “Do you like Fleetwood Mac?”

“Nah, just thought the vinyl looked cool.  I don’t even know any songs by them.”

Harry halts all movement, eyeing Misty to figure out if she means what she’s saying.  She’s got him for a moment, her expression remains completely unbothered as she rubs her vanilla lotion into her arms.   But then she giggles, face twisting up like she can’t believe Harry would even ask her that.  “What the fuck kind of question is that, Harry?  Hello?  Why else would I have that?”

Harry snorts.  “You know what?  I’ve had enough of your sarcasm.”

“My sarcasm?” Misty says.  “You’re one to talk!”

“Me? I’m a dream!”  Harry returns the record to it’s rightful spot and makes his way over to the bed.  “You on the other hand--”

Harry reaches for a pillow to whack Misty with, but Misty is quicker.  She grabs the other pillow on her bed and shields his attack, squealing as he continues his fight on her regardless.  He eventually tosses the pillow aside, going for what he knows will absolutely get her to cave and digging his fingers into her sides.

Misty squeals, instantly bucking into his touch as he squeezes at her.  “Wait, no! Fucker!  This is cheating!”

“Careful!” Harry taunts, fingers wiggling up to her ribs. “No one else knows I’m here! Would be awful embarrassing if they heard you talking and giggling to yourself, wouldn’t it?”

“Well then fucking stooooop!” Misty whines, wriggling under his grasp.  “Why are you making me--” She is cut off by her own cackle before she continues-- “Do this?!”

“Because I can.”  Harry beams down at her, leaning down to press a kiss to her nose.  “Because it’s cute and you like it.”

“I don’t like it!” Misty practically howls.  “You’re annoying!”

“Oh,” Harry says, ceasing the movement of his fingers.  “I’m annoying?”

“YES!” Misty whines, pouting up at him.

He smiles, leaning closer into her face and enjoying the heat radiating off of her cheeks.  “Do you really not like it?”

Misty pants, catching her breath and smiling up at Harry.  “No,” she admits after a beat.

Harry squirms so he’s fully on top of her now. “‘No’ you don’t like it? Or ‘no’ as in you do like it and don’t want me to stop?”

Misty reaches up to cover her face as much as Harry’s body pinning her will allow.  “‘No’ as in… don’t stop.”

Harry grins, pressing a kiss to Misty’s nose.  “I figured.”

Harry trails his lips lightly along Misty’s cheeks leading up to her mouth, pressing smiley kisses to the soft skin and loving the way he can feel her smile beneath him.  “Pretty girl,’ he mutters.  “You’re the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

When he finally fastens his lips to hers, Misty sighs.  She opens her mouth willingly, allowing him to lick his way in, and she delights in the sweet taste of his tongue against hers.  She allows her hand to trail up Harry’s icy neck, tangling her fingers in his hair before she tilts her head away slightly to speak.

“You know,” she muses,  “You could be awful mean to me if you wanted to be.”

Harry quirks an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side teasingly.  “Do you want me to be mean to you?”

Misty only sighs. “If you have to ask--”  She trails off, fingertips lightly toying with the hem of Harry’s shirt.  There’s a moment of tense silence in which she bats her eyes up at him innocently, and that’s all the starting gun he needs.

“Ohh, sweetheart,” Harry coos.  “You’re going to have to be more convincing than that.”

Misty groans, her facade crumbling away little by little.  “I cannnn’t,” she whines, hiding her face in her hands.  Harry can see her smile between her hands however, and it eggs him on.

“You can,” he says, voice almost mockingly sweet. He rises to sit on his knees. “Know you can.  You just won’t.”  

Harry reaches up, trying to gently coax her hands from her face as best he can. “You know why you won’t?”

Misty peeks through her fingers, shaking her head but not verbally answering Harry.  He flashes her his cheekiest dimpled grin.  “Because you want me to make you say it. Am I right?”

Misty giggles as Harry successfully lowers her hands.   “You can’t make me say it,” she says teasingly.

Harry shrugs, placing his hand on Misty’s calf and squeezing lightly.  “It’s true.  I can’t. Can’t make you do anything you don’t want to, baby.”  He walks his fingers up her leg, tauntingly tracing his pointer finger around her kneecap and making her shiver.  “But darling, this cute little act of yours is only going to get you so far.

“It’s gotten me far enough, hasn’t it?” Misty licks her lips subconsciously, reaching forward to scratch behind Harry’s ear.  “Obviously things have gone my way.”

“Have they?” Harry says, cocking his head.  “I haven’t given in yet, have I?”

“How much longer until you do?” Misty asks, giggling nervously.

Harry shakes his head, leaning in to press a kiss to the side of Misty’s chin.  “Dunno,” he says.  “Wanna see how long you’re going to act like this for.”

Harry presses a few more rapid kisses directly to Misty’s chin before trailing them up to the fleshiest parts of her cheeks.  After a few kisses there, he pulls away.

“Your cheeks are so hot, sunshine,” Harry muses, reaching up and tracing a knuckle along the tender skin.  “Why?”

“Hot in here,” Misty breathes, voice so low that Harry can barely even make out what she’s saying.  

Harry’s honey drip of a voice sends shivers down Misty’s spine when he speaks.  “No,” he says with a grin.  “That’s not it.”  

With his other hand, Harry trails his fingertips down the sensitive skin of her arm, making her squirm a bit.  “Know what I think it is?”  His fingers squeeze delicately over her hips before resting on her exposed thigh-- where he gives her a soft scratch.  “I think somebody is embarrassed about how badly she wants me to be mean to her.”

Harry leans in, pressing an icy kiss to her neck that makes her instinctively tremble.  A breathy moan floats past her lips as Harry ghosts his own along her collarbone.  He takes his time with this, really inhaling her scent and her warmth as he makes his way down her body.  His fingers trace delicately along the waistband of her pajama shorts, her stomach jolting a bit when he hits a sensitive spot on her hips.  Misty watches his face with parted lips, so completely enamoured by him and his touch that she’s rendered speechless.

Slowly, gently, Harry lowers his hand to the spot between her legs, feeling the damp heat against the soft fabric of her short pajama bottoms.  He grins, slowly adjusting to sit up on his knees once again.  He takes her in, her entire body, and allows himself to really savor this moment.  When his eyes fall on the beauty between her legs again, however, he stops.

“And you know what else I think?” Harry says, grinning over her as his fingers tease her waistband once again.  “I think you like being embarrassed like this.  I think you like that I can do this to you, and we’re the only two who’ll ever know about it.  Hm?  Am I right?”

Misty gulps, goosebumps prickling her skin and lips glistening.  She nods.  “Yes,” she breathes.  “You’re exactly right.”

“I knew it,” Harry says, hooking his fingers into her waistband. “Filthy girl, aren’t you?”  He begins lowering the shorts from her hips, never breaking eye contact and smirking at how willingly she complies with his movements.  When he pulls the shorts past her feet he flings them carelessly to the floor, then glances down at the ever-growing wet spot on the fabric between her legs.  He grins up at her.  “Messy thing you are, too.  Look how wet you get just from some teasing.”

“Harry--” Misty breathes.

“Love it when you say my name like that, darling,” Harry purrs.  He leans forward to press a kiss directly to her bellybutton. The kiss is wet, and the sound of it mixed with Misty’s beautiful sighing is enough to make Harry melt.  He can’t help but to close his eyes and take a deep breath in, sighing when he’s met with her heavenly scent.  “Smell so fucking good,” he mumbles.  “Haven’t smelt anything like this in years.”

“Don’t--” Misty breathes,  “Don’t tease.”

“Ohh,” Harry tuts, tracing the spot where her inner thigh meets the fabric of her panties.  “Poor thing doesn’t want me to tease?”

He glances up at her from under his lashes, and the look on her face sends Harry over the moon.   Her eyes are wide and the smile on her slightly parted lips is so warm and inviting that Harry almost has a hard time keeping this up.

“Well, I find that hard to believe.”

He sinks his teeth into the waistband of her panties without any warning, and she gasps at the sudden sharpness mixed with the temperature of his mouth on her hips.

Misty lets out an unfiltered moan and immediately flings her hand up to her mouth to keep herself quiet.  She gives herself only a few moments to compose herself before whispering, “Harry, I… I need you--”

“Aww,” Harry coos, his teeth still hooked around her panties. He shakes his head a bit, curls falling in his face as he pulls the fabric away from Misty’s skin. “Needy,” he mutters, tugging a bit in an attempt to remove the panties.

When the lower half of Misty’s body is exposed to the chill of Harry’s skin, she shivers, and he delights in the movement for the first time since he’s met her.

“Know I’m cold,” he says quietly, teeth still clenched around her panties as he drags them down her leg.  “But it feels good, doesn’t it?”

Misty nods.  “M-hm…”  She’s eyeing him, and he’s moving slowly because he can tell she has something she wants to say.  He discards her panties onto the ground and tries not to outwardly show just how fucking delicious she looks right now.  He’s practically drooling at the sight of her, but she’s nervous, and he doesn’t want to push her too far.  So instead, he trails his nails slowly up her calf, looking only in her eye  and waiting patiently for her to speak.

“Nervous?” he asks.

“Well, no,” she says.  “But I…”  she trails off, squirming when his eyes land between her legs once again.

“What’s wrong?”

“I…” she starts, squirming a bit.  “I didn’t shave.”

Harry almost laughs at her when she says this. “Oh, darling. That’s what’s got you so nervous?”

She nods.  “Yeah.  I mean, I didn’t think… I don’t know.”

“Your pussy looks amazing,” Harry says, deciding to just bite the bullet and be as forward as he feels.  “Looks fucking delicious.  Smells delicious as well.  I certainly don’t mind a bit of hair.”

“You don’t?”  she asks, sitting up.

“Are you kidding?” He reaches forward, brushing against some of the hair with his finger.  “Fucking sexy as hell.  Don’t be silly.”

“I mean,” Misty says quickly, “I suppose it’s probably been, like, a minute since you’ve seen a pussy.  So I guess any pussy is gonna be fine.  I mean, not to assume your preferences, or anything, but you know--”

Harry leans forward, biting Misty’s thigh and making her yelp.  “Shh,”  he mumbles.  “Please.”

Misty giggles nervously. “Okay,” she says.

Harry leans down and kisses the spot he’s just nipped at, trailing his lips up her thigh and settling himself on his stomach. Being this close to her core ignites something in him that he hasn’t felt in years, and just the smell of her alone makes his mouth water.

With one hand Harry coaxes Misty’s leg up and over his shoulder, and now with a clearer view of her beautiful pussy he licks his lips.  

“You’re already so wet,” he observes. “Wanted it this badly, did you?”

“Want you,” she replies, squirming. “So bad.”

Harry takes his time with it, eyeing her body up and down before leaning in to press the most velvet soft kiss directly at her center  His scruff tickles her lightly, and she lets out a sigh.

Harry hums against her core before really diving into his work, peeking his tongue out from between his lips to lap delicately at her clit.  He watches her from under his long lashes, waiting for a reaction from her as he explores her with his tongue— wanting to find the best spot to really devour.

She watches him intently, as if in a daze, while he sucks at her, and it takes him a moment to realize she’s holding her breath. So he pops off of her clit gently, making her jolt, before reaching up to place a hand on her belly. “Breathe, baby.”

Perhaps Misty didn’t realize she was holding her breath, because she lets it all out in a puff. Her tummy immediately grows a bit and Harry loves it, loves seeing her fully relaxed for him like this.

“You okay?” He asks. “Genuinely.”

“I’m okay,” she says.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Cross your heart?”

Misty snorts.  “I swear on my life, Harry, come onnnn.”

He giggles, “Alright alright.”  Without any further warning, he leans down and presses the softest kiss directly to her clit, resuming his work and licking against her.

The only noises in the room are Misty’s heavy breathing and soft sighing, mixed with the wet noises of Harry’s mouth-- and it all feels so filthy and intimate that it makes Harry lose himself in his work. He moans, even louder than she does, and it makes her back arch a bit off of the mattress.

“Harry--” she sighs.

Harry tilts his head, ghosting his lips against her thigh.  “Careful,” he says.  “I don’t have to be quiet. You do.”

Misty smiles to herself, enjoying the feeling of his tongue between her legs. The sensation of his temperature down there is something she’s never experienced before in her life, and it makes the entire experience all the more intoxicatingly wonderful.

“God you taste so fucking good,” Harry mumbles, pulling his head back only slightly and reaching up to rub at her clit. “Like fucking honey. Delicious.”  He lowers his fingers to collect her wetness, observing the stickiness coating the digits before raising his hand to her mouth.

He doesn’t even have to tell her to do anything, she’s already opening her mouth and sticking her tongue out. Harry rests his fingertips on her tongue, and she envelopes them with her lips, giving them a nice long suck that causes Harry to make a most obscene noise in the back of his throat.

The temporary distraction lights a fire in Harry’s soul, and he ducks down to bury his face in her pussy once more. She arches her back when he hits a particularly good spot, and she accidentally bites down gently on his fingers— which Harry is surprised to find that he loves the feeling of.

Harry hums against her, wiggling his fingers a bit as a silent request for her to loosen up.  She opens her mouth, unable to contain the moan that escapes her lips when she does so.  Harry envelops her clit with his lips and sucks harshly, and she squirms against him.

“Harry--” She breathes.  “It’s so… fuck-- you’re so good…”

“Quiet now,” Harry mumbles against the skin of her thigh.  “Unless you want them to know how filthy you are.”

“I don’t care,” Misty pants breathlessly.  “I’ll blame my vibrator, I don’t care,  I’ll--- oh fuuuuck.”  She’s cut off when Harry sinks his teeth into the flesh of her thigh, and even he moans at the sensation.

“Fucking shit,” he mumbles as he pulls away, admiring the dents that his teeth left and the string of saliva trailing from his bottom lip to her plushy skin.  “You taste good everywhere.”

“More,” Misty pleads.  “Harry, more, please.”

Harry sits mesmerized by the imprint of his own teeth on her thigh.  “They’ll think you’re crazy if they hear you.”

Misty groans, and Harry instinctively reaches up and covers her mouth without hesitation.  He considers stopping, punishing her for not listening to him and being loud.  But looking up at her, seeing how needy and fucked out she already looks has him weak.  So he buries his face between her legs and prepares to finish the job, licking her out like it’s the one thing he was born to do.

Misty’s hand flies to Harry’s hair and she tugs so hard it makes him wince.  Honestly, it’s the best feeling he’s felt in ages.  No one has pulled his hair like this since long before he died, and the feeling alone causes him to moan out loud against her core.

“Fucking shit, Misty,” he mumbles.  “Do that again.”

“You like that?” Misty cries breathlessly, her fingers moving frantically to grasp at his curls once again.  

Harry groans, lapping against her clit and enjoying the most pleasure he’s felt in years. “Misty,” he breathes, relishing in the way she twitches against the tickle of his breath against her skin, “You’re so fucking perfect.”

“Fuck,” Misty groans.  “Holy shit--”

“Is this good sweet girl?”  

“I need more,” Misty cries, and who is Harry to deny her of her simple request?

He reaches down, fingering gently at the wetness pooling between her legs before teasing a single finger into her-- never once removing his lips from her clit.

He sucks harshly while his finger simultaneously searches for the spongy spot inside of her. She squirms around his digit, and Harry has to use his other hand to pin her hips down.

“Hold still,” he instructs.

“I can’t,” Misty whines. “I need another finger.”

She’s practically begging at this point, and it makes Harry so smug. “Ohhh,” he says, lips ghosting her thighs again, “So you’re the one calling the shots, are you?”

He’s teasing, of course, because he knows that she absolutely is the one in control of everything that’s going on right now.  But the way she’s dripping, tugging on his hair and practically shoving his face into her-- as well as verbally begging him-- strokes his ego.

“Please,” she groans.  “I want-- fuck-- I need to cum.”

Harry smirks up at her, tutting his lips.  “Not even embarrassed to be so needy?” he teases.    “My god…”

As much as he loves to tease her, though, he wants to make her cum more than anything else. And seeing her on the brink like this-- already-- makes him all the more eager. So he adds a second finger, pumping his digits in and out and lapping at her clit like it’s his last meal.  

She lets out an obscene moan, louder than any of the others she’s let out, and he knows she’s close. But for the sake of her pride, he knows she has to stay quiet. So he removes his hand from her hip and presses it to her mouth.

“Quiet,” he instructs, giving her face a little squeeze before putting his entire heart and soul into eating her.  

Misty is wiggling like mad now, and it takes everything in Harry to keep his mouth on her.  He knows that if he lets go of her mouth to try and pin her hips down again, she’ll expose herself— loudly— so this is a challenge Harry gladly accepts.

She stills briefly when her orgasm hits, and then her thighs are trembling around his face.  Her stomach is clenched and she’s drooling against the palm of his hand.  Her muffled moans are music to his ears, but they do sort of catch Harry off guard because he’d never guess that she’d be such a vocal cummer.  Of course, he isn’t complaining, and he wishes that he could hear her, completely unfiltered, with no one around to catch them.

Misty’s stomach relaxes a little bit at the same time she lets out a few little cries, and Harry realizes that she’s finished-- although her pussy continues to flutter with aftershocks against his tongue.  He slowly removes his hand from her wet mouth and looks up at her from under his lashes.

She looks utterly fucked, with tears in her eyes and chest rising and falling gently as she tries to catch her breath.  Harry is fascinated, thinking he’s never seen anyone so beautiful in his entire life, and he realizes that he hasn’t moved in a while when Misty squirms beneath him.

He removes his lips from her but continues to watch her, relieved when her features seem to relax and she lets out a breathy giggle.  “My god,” she says, voice somewhat hoarse.  “That was--”

“A dream,” Harry says, now allowing himself to relax a bit as well.  He looks down at her soaked pussy and grins.  “You’re messy.”

“Can you blame me?”  Misty reaches up to run a hand through her hair.  “Fuck, that was good.”

“Yeah?”  Harry smiles.  “I’m so glad.”

Misty hums, reaching down to playfully muss up Harry’s hair.  “Now, come up here so I can take care of you, pretty boy.”

Her words hit Harry’s heart, causing it to sink immediately. “Oh, doll,” he tuts,  “God, I wish you could.”

Misty frowns.  “What do you mean?”

“No blood in my veins,” Harry explains sadly, still making no effort to remove himself from between her legs.  “No blood… no boner. I don’t get hard.  I don’t cum.”

“Holy shit.”  Misty props herself up on her elbows, looking down at Harry and causing the cutest double chin Harry thinks he’s ever seen.  “Seriously?”

Harry nods.  “Seriously.  So even if you did… I wouldn’t feel anything.”

“Do you…” Misty’s voice gets quiet, as if suddenly going shy.  “Do you still get horny?”

“Yeah.”  Harry kisses Misty’s knee.  “Of course. You think I don’t feel anything while I’m eating your beautiful pussy?”

“I don’t know!” Misty whines.  “I feel like there is so much about you that I’m still learning.”

“Well,” Harry says with a sigh.  “You turn me on.  More than anyone I’ve ever known.  My body may not be able to physically show it… but you do something to me that I haven’t felt in years.”

“So I’ll never be able to suck you off?”  Misty pouts.

Harry smiles sadly.  “I’m afraid not, sweet girl.”

“Holy shit.” Misty frowns. “That fucking sucks.”

Harry laughs. “I mean… it’s not so bad. I get to make you feel good.” He licks softly at her pussy in an attempt to begin cleaning her up, and she flinches out of sensitivity, causing him to chuckle.

“I hate it though,” Harry admits, “kind of. I hate that I can’t…. well… pardon my French here but—“

“Fuck me?” Misty finishes. “You hate that you can’t fuck me? Because I want you to.”

Harry snorts. “Well damn, miss Misty. Never expected you to be so forward but yes, I hate that I can’t fuck you the way you deserve to be fucked.”

Misty frowns. “I just want to make you feel good.”

“You do make me feel good.,” Harry says with a smile. “Every second that we’re together feels better than the last.” He licks at her pussy once again, smiling at the way she wiggles against his tongue instantaneously.

“Now,” he says, “let’s get you cleaned up and get that English paper done, hm?”

-------

It’s the night of Misty’s sorority homecoming, and Misty is having a less than ideal time.

It isn’t that the venue isn’t wonderful, or that her friends aren’t being lovely. Everything seems perfect from the outside, and Misty knows she should be enjoying it. But her problem isn’t with the event itself— it’s the fact that she’s here alone.

Because the one person she’d wanted to bring as her date happens to be a ghost.

Harry had watched her get ready all day, constantly telling her how gorgeous she looked and laughing, amused, when she’d tried countless times to get him to give in and come with her. Of course he wasn’t going to do that, and she understood, but still.

He’d sent her off with a kiss, reminding her one last time how absolutely stunning she looked and promising to be waiting up for her the minute she returned home.  And she’d left, reluctantly, because she knew he was right— she did need to go off and live her life.

But god, what she would give to have him here right now.

“Misty!”  

Misty realizes she’s been staring at the wall, the drink in her hand nearly spilling over, when she’s startled out of her thoughts.  Angie walks excitedly towards her.  

Angie, of course, looks stunning.  She’s wearing a long, blue gown that compliments her eyes nicely, and her hair is done up in curls that are so perfectly put together they don’t even look real.  She flashes Misty a warm smile as she approaches.

“Girl!” she says.  “What’s wrong with you? You alright?”

Misty smiles, realizing that she probably looks silly all zoned out like this.  “Yeah, no, I’m good! Sorry. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“You look sad,” Angie says, worry creasing her eyes.   “You sure you’re just tired?”

Misty sighs, because god, she really wishes she could explain her situation to Angie. Or anyone really.  “Yeah, I’m good.  Sorry.”

“Well you should get out there and dance!” Angie says encouragingly.  “The DJ kinda sucks but like, if you take a shot beforehand it’s not that bad.”

“He does kinda suck, doesn’t he?” Misty giggles.

“Oh, also…”  Angie hesitates before speaking her next sentence.  “Josh is looking for you.”

Misty rolls her eyes, but Angie continues talking.  “I knoooow, I know he sucks but like… I don’t know, maybe if you got drunk and made out a little bit it would--”

“Why would I do that?” Misty asks.  “He came here with Brooke anyway!”

“Oh yeah, and she’s pissed about it,” Angie giggles. “Everyone knows he was just trying to make you jealous.  Poor Brooke.”

“Yeah,’ Misty says.  “Josh sucks.”

“You know, I don’t know why you won’t give him a chance!” Angie leans against the wall, taking a sip of the bright orange drink in her glass.  “I mean, he like, very clearly wants you.”

“I don’t want him,” Misty replies.  “Like, at all.  If he can’t take a hint, then--’

Misty trails off when she notices Angie squinting over her shoulder.  “Who the hell--”  Angie whispers.

“What?”  Misty turns slowly, and her jaw drops when she sees what it is that Angie is looking at.  

In walks Harry, physical body and all, waving at everyone like he’s known them all his life.

Is she dreaming? Surely she has to be.  She shakes her head, then reaches up to her forehead as if to check her temperature.  Can everyone else see him?  How is he here?

Her movement catches Harry’s eye, and he beams at her, turning his full attention towards her and heading in her direction.  “Misty!” He calls, waving at her.

Angie’s jaw is practically on the floor, as are the jaws of almost every girl in the room.  “You know him?” Angie asks.

And honestly, Misty isn’t sure what the right answer to that question is.  “I--” is all she can manage to get out.

Harry approaches, and Misty is not only greeted by his delicious cinnamon scent, but a strong, spicy cologne. He looks delicious in this suit, and when he hugs her she shivers, partly because of his cold skin and partly (mostly) because she can’t believe her eyes.

“Hiya, darling,” Harry says, wrapping Misty up in a chilly hug and kissing her cheek.  “You look absolutely beautiful tonight.”

“Thank you,” Misty manages to stammer out, although her facial expression must give away how confused she is.  

Harry only smiles down at her, reaching up gently to close her mouth.  He then turns to Angie with a pleasant smile.  “I don’t believe we’ve met,” he says, extending a hand.  “I’m Harry.”

Angie wastes no time, reaching forward to shake his hand quickly.  She seems taken aback by the temperature of his hands, but Harry pays it no mind.  Instead he brushes it off with a quick, “Don’t mind the cold hands.  Can never quite get used to the weather out here.”

Misty giggles, awkwardly, wrapping her arm around Harry’s back.  “Darling,” she says, as forcibly normal as possible, “I had no idea you were coming tonight.”

“Wanted to surprise you!” Harry answers cooly, before turning back to Angie.  “I’m sorry, love, I didn’t catch your name…?”

“It’s Angie!” Angie blurts, cheeks growing redder by the minute.  She giggles like a little schoolgirl.  “Misty never mentioned she had a boyfriend… much less such a handsome one.”

Harry smiles.  “I’m flattered, Angie.  Thank you.  But no, actually, Misty and I are just casual for now.  We met a few summers ago during her spring break back home.  We’re… oh, I don’t know what to call it… talking? I suppose?”  Harry laughs, grinning down at Misty.

Misty, still in shock, misses a beat before realizing that he’s addressing her.  She laughs stiffly.  “Yes,” she says, “‘talking’ is a good word.”

Harry grins back at Angie.  “And you?  Where’s your lucky fellow tonight?”

“Oh,” Angie says, biting at her lip, growing visibly excited at the mention of her date.  “He’s um… he’s somewhere around here. I guess we’re uh— talking as well.”

“Ah,” Harry says, “I see.”

He’s so ridiculously chipper, so casually cool, and Misty is growing more and more impatient by the minute.  She laughs, accidentally cutting Angie off just as she begins a sentence.

“Angie, I’m sorry, but would you mind if I took Harry outside for a bit? I didn’t realize he was going to be here tonight and we… uh…” She looks up at Harry, who only grins smugly back at her,  “We have a bit of catching up to do.”

“Oh sure!” Angie says.  “Of course, babe, go have fun.”  She smiles brightly at Harry.  “It was so nice meeting you, I’ll catch up with you both later, yeah?”

“Yeah!” Harry says, warmly. “Of course!”

Misty smiles at Harry,  but the look in her eyes informs Harry that she has a lot to say.  He smiles, so ridiculously casual and sweet, and takes her hand.

“After you sunshine,” he says.  

Misty rolls her eyes, but she does smile softly to herself as she leads him outside. Harry doesn’t know if she means to, but she gives his hand a slight squeeze as she walks.  He gives her hand a squeeze right back, far more intentional than hers, and her breathy little giggle does not go unnoticed by him.

Harry eyes the room, taking in his surroundings and looking for who he has decided is his number one enemy in life (and technically death)-- Josh.  He doesn’t find him at first, and he has to admit that his heart sinks a bit at the thought of not being able to show Misty off right to Josh’s face.  But then he finds him, outside smoking a cigar with a few other guys, and Harry perks up once again.

Misty doesn’t even acknowledge the boys as she continues to lead Harry to a quiet corner of the garden, but Harry of course isn’t going to stand for that.  Not when he has the satisfaction of seeing Josh’s face light up upon Misty’s arrival only to completely drop half a second later when he sees she’s with somebody.  Harry’s not letting it end there.

“Evening, guys.”  Harry raises his free hand to his forehead, giving the group an effortless salute.   “Gorgeous night, innit?”

Josh takes the bait, immediately stepping out of the circle and making his way over to Harry and Misty.  Misty doesn’t even notice until Harry is resisting her tug, and when she turns around to see who’s approaching she rolls her eyes.  “Fuckin hell,” she mumbles.

Harry, of course, has the complete opposite reaction, smiling warmly right back at Josh.

“Hey man!” Josh says, holding out his free hand.  “I’m Josh.  Don’t think I’ve ever seen you around?”

“Never been around,” Harry says matter-of-factly.  He takes Josh’s hand with a grip so firm Misty can sense it.  “I’m Harry.”

“Nice to meet you, Harry!” Josh’s smile is so fake Misty wants to scream, and she wishes she could evaporate into thin air to escape the awkward tension in the air right now.  “How do you know Misty?”

“I’m from her hometown!” Harry says.  “Met her a few spring breaks ago.  We’ve been casual for a while now.”

“Have you?”  Josh looks pointedly at Misty, and she rolls her eyes.  Harry never looks away from Josh.

“I would say so, yeah,” Harry smiles.  “On and off of course.”

“I see.”  Josh nods stiffly.

“Oh wait!” Harry says suddenly, as if a thought has just occurred to him.  “Ohhh, you’re Josh!  Misty here has told me quite a bit about you!”

Misty can feel the blood rushing to her cheeks as she glances frantically between Harry and Josh.  Josh smiles.

“Oh yeah?  All good things I hope!”

“Mmm…” Harry says in a questioning tone, shrugging a bit but maintaining his smile.

Josh stares blankly back at Harry, completely unsure of how to process what he’s just said, and Misty can’t help but giggle.

“Okay, well!” she says, trying and failing to hide the smile on her face.  “This has been super lovely but Harry and I have quite a bit of catching up to do, don’t we?”

“We sure do, pumpkin!” Harry wiggles his nose exaggeratedly at Misty and she laughs.    He turns back to Josh.  “Nice to finally meet the famous Josh,” he says.   “I’m sure I’ll see ya around!”

“Uh,” Josh stammers.  “Yeah.  See ya.”

Misty tugs Harry away from Josh and over to a secluded corner of the garden, and Harry shoots Josh a pointed and intimidating look over his shoulder before turning to Misty.  She tries to be serious, but she can’t stop herself from giggling.. “Harry what the hell!” She hisses.

He smiles.  “Surprised?  Happy? Do you want to kill me?”

“Um, yes to all of the above!” Misty lightly slaps his arm.  “What are you doing here?!”

“Wanted to surprise you,” he says, reaching forward to gently hook his pinky with Misty’s.  “Figured a beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be alone on a big night like this.  I wanted to help make it special.”

Harry leans in and places a kiss right on Misty’s cheekbone.  “Besides,” he says, softer,  “I couldn’t give Josh the satisfaction of thinking he had a chance tonight.”

Misty giggles, oblivious to the way the nearby group of boys are all watching her longingly.  Harry laughs along with her, kissing her nose and then her smile.  “Are you happy, sunshine?”

“So happy,” she says, kissing him back.  “Beyond happy.”  

Misty pulls away, eyeing Harry in his suit.  Never in her life has she ever seen a more handsome man, and she lets out a hum of satisfaction.  “But,” she says slowly.  “I don’t… understand.  Your energy--”

“I’ll be fine, love,” Harry insists.  “It’s one night.  As long as you’re happy.”

“Yeah but--”

“No buts.” Harry smiles.  “Now, something tells me you haven’t danced much tonight. Is that true?”

Misty smirks.  “Didn’t feel right dancing without you.”

“Well, that’s a shame,” Harry says. “We’ll have to fix that, won’t we?”  He holds his arm out to her, raising his eyebrows.

Misty eyes his arm before giggling and linking arms with him. She shakes her head. “I can’t believe you.”

Harry leads her back inside, shooting Josh one more pointed look before holding the door open for Misty.  She’s like a giggly schoolgirl as she walks through, taking Harry’s hand in hers and giving it a long squeeze.

Misty practically floats onto the dance floor as a slower song begins, and Harry can’t believe she’s real. He twirls her under his arm, admiring the way her skirt swishes and catches the dim lights. She beams up at him brightly before wrapping an arm up around his shoulders and pulling him in. They begin swaying together as Harry pulls her in closer by her hips; the scent of her perfume just below his nose. He can feel her sigh contentedly against his chest, and it makes him smile to himself.

“It’s so nice to finally dance with you like, out in the open and stuff,” Misty says.  “Instead of looking like I’m possessed.”

Harry laughs.  “I know.  It’s nice to be seen.  It’s nice to show off my dancing.”  The minute he finishes his sentence, he spins Misty out, then in, before dipping her.  She squeals, giggling up at him and going limp in his arms.

“Love hearing you laugh like that,” Harry says, mirroring what he’d told her the first night they danced together.  “I mean it.”

He pulls her back up into him, her hair flying behind her.  “No one makes me laugh the way you do,” she admits.  “I love it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.’

A comfortable silence falls between the two of them for the next few moments, and they can’t seem to keep their eyes off of each other. Harry let’s out a boyish giggle and leans forward, pressing a peck to her nose.

“You know,” Misty says. “You’re actually a pretty good dancer for a ghost.”

“I’m not sure whether I should take offense to that or not.”

“It’s a compliment,” Misty laughs. “I’m just impressed. A lot of guys I know aren’t really good at dancing.”

“I was known to be quite the dancer in my day,” Harry says, spinning her out and then quickly back into him once again.

“Really?”

Harry gives Misty a soft little hip check. “Not at all.”

Harry and Misty laugh their way through the rest of the dance, hardly even realizing when the music slows to a stop. Harry leans down, pressing the sweetest kiss to Misty’s lips before she even has a chance to say anything, and she smiles into the kiss— communicating exactly how she’s feeling just by her kiss alone.

After a few more dances, they make their way to a table, giggling and out of breath. Harry orders Misty another drink, socializing with everyone at the table like he’s known them his whole life. And as Misty watches him through slightly buzzed and love drunk eyes, she allows herself to feel, just for the moment, that everything in her little world is perfect with Harry.

———

About an hour and a few drinks later, Misty wanders into the restroom, leaving behind a very happy Harry— who chats effortlessly with the other people at their table.  She realizes halfway through her journey that her face hurts from smiling, and she giggles to herself quietly.

Her situation may be incredibly unique, but she’s so lucky to have Harry here on her arm this evening.  She giggles, throat thick with the sweet drink she’s been sipping on and eyes hazy, before washing her hands and making her way back out into the hallway.  No one is around, and she begins to make her way back into the large dance hall when she nearly runs someone over as she turns the corner.

“Oh, sorry!” She looks up, immediately relieved to find that it’s Harry she’s bumped into.

He smiles down at her.  “Slow down there, speed racer.  Where are you going in such a hurry?”

“Coming to find you,” she says, smiling at him.  She rises up onto her toes and kisses his chin.  

“Mm.”  Harry hums, tilting his head to kiss her lips.  “Having a fun night?”

“Yes.”  She wraps her arms around his waist, pressing her face to his chest and inhaling the delicious cinnamon scent of him.  “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Yeah?” Harry presses a kiss to the top of her head.  “Me too.  So glad.”

Misty pulls away, licking her lips and adjusting Harry’s bowtie that she’d accidentally muffed up.  “How are you feeling?”

“Fine!” Harry insists.  “Like I could run a marathon.”

‘Oh yeah?”  Misty eyes him quizzically, and he laughs.

“I mean… no,” he says. “But I feel fine.”

Misty groans.  “You’re using too much energy.”

“Will you stop?”  He asks, pulling her closer by the small of her back. “I’m fine.”

“Promise?”

‘Promise?”

“Swear?”

Harry chuckles.  “Swear.”

“Cross your heart?”

Harry boops Misty’s nose.  “And hope to die.”

Misty rolls her eyes, reaching up to comb her fingers through Harry’s slightly messy hair.  “You’re not funny,” she says, booping his nose right back.  “But you are handsome as hell.  Especially tonight.”

“Yeah?”  Harry tilts his body, tugging at the ends of his suit jacket.  “Like it?  Picked it out myself.”

“How?”

Harry winks.  “Magic.”

“Oh god,” Misty giggles.  “Well, however you actually did it… I’m glad you did.”  She runs her hands along his shoulders and down his arms, squeezing his hands gently.  “You look fucking delicious.”

“Hardly.  You’re far too sweet to me, angel, but I figured that if I was going to be this beautiful girl’s date tonight, I needed to look the part.”

Misty hums, pulling him in by his lapel and buttoning her lips with his. He smiles against her mouth, and she licks eagerly against his bottom lip.  He knows exactly the kind of mood she’s in just by the way she’s kissing him, and he reaches up to cup the back of her neck.

“God,” she breathes, lips ghosting his. “The things I would do to you.”

Harry gulps, loving the forwardness coming from her pretty lips. “Yeah?” He nods, as if urging her to go on.

“Mm, I could devour you. It’s all I want.”

Harry tilts his head, pulling Misty closer and kissing her ear. “What else do you want?”

“To feel you,” she says. “I bet you’re so big.”

Despite having no blood in his veins, Misty’s words stroke Harry’s ego and twist his stomach into knots.  “Mm,” he hums, trying to maintain his smug demeanor.  “I am, actually.”

“Damn.”  Misty pouts, softly fingering at Harry’s bowtie.  “God I wish I could suck you.”

Harry gulps, because fuck does he sure wish that as well. He raises a hand to brush Misty’s hair back from her face, eyes flickering between her lips and her eyes.  “I know, sweet girl.  Me too.”

They spend a few moments just looking at one another, speaking without words.  Harry gently caresses her cheeks, wishing more than anything that his touch wasn’t so damn cold.   He clears his throat softly.  “We have to get back out there, you know.”

“I know,” Misty sighs.

‘You look so beautiful.”  Harry smiles, reaching forward to take Misty’s hand in his own.   “Never seen anyone so beautiful.”

“You’re one to talk,’ Misty says softly, making Harry scoff.  “Can’t take my eyes off of you.”

“Then don’t,” Harry teases.  “Does wonders for my ego when you look at me like that.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

Misty hums, reaching up to thumb at Harry’s cheek. “I want you,” she says quietly.  “So fucking badly.”

“Yeah?”  Harry says softly, gears turning in his head as he realizes the exact kind of mood Misty is in.  “What is it you want exactly, baby?”

Harry has only known Misty a short time, comparatively speaking, but he knows her well enough to know exactly what buttons to push.  He knows what that look in her eyes means, and he knows how to turn her on with only his words.  

He also knows that making her put into words exactly what she wants turns her into a messy, embarrassed puddle that turns them both on.  So he watches her expectantly.

“Well,” Misty says slowly, heat radiating off of her face.  “I want…. To suck you off.”

“I know,” Harry coos, trailing his fingertips along her jawline.  “Said that already. But you know you can’t, baby.  Doesn’t work like that.”

“I hate it,” Misty pouts.  “I just want to make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

“Making you feel good makes me feel good,” Harry says.  He waits for a response, and when it doesn’t come, tense idea forming in his head comes to fruition.

He reaches around to cup the back of her neck, scratching lightly at the hair there.  “You want me to make you feel good right now, pretty girl?  Hm?”

Misty snaps almost fully out of her trance then, glancing around nervously.  “Harry, we can’t right now.  Are you joking?  We’re in public--”

“Why not?”  Harry grins down at her.  “You know I can disappear.  Make it so that only you could see me.”

“Yeah but--”

“Nobody would know,”  he shrugs, tacking on a quick,  “that is, if you can keep quiet for me.”

Misty sighs sharply at his words, and he chuckles.  

“Sunshine, if you don’t want to, I won’t.”

“No, I…”  Misty lowers her voice, despite the fact that they’re still the only two in the hallway.  “I want to.”

“Yeah?”  Harry asks.  “You sure?  Not trying to pressure you.”

Misty looks up at him, a nervous smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “You’re not pressuring me.  I’ve always wanted to do some raunchy shit like this.”

“Oh yeah?  Bit of an exhibionist are we?”

Misty giggles.  “Harry.”

“I’ll go under the table. No one will even know I’m there.  Even if they look.”

“But where should I tell them you went?”

“Hm.”  Harry hums, considering this for a few moments.  “Cigar break.  Went out to smoke.  You were out with me for a bit but I got a phone call and you got cold.  So you came inside.”

Misty frowns. “You don’t smoke.”

“I’m also not a living human being, but here we are.”  Harry grins, pulling Misty in closer and lowering his voice.  “Gonna let me make you cum, pretty girl?  Hm?’

“Yes,” Misty whispers back, shyly avoiding his gaze.  “Yes.”

“In front of all these people?” Harry asks teasingly.  “Naughty.”

“Harry--”

He laughs, pressing a kiss to her nose.  “Alright, alright.  Go sit at the table.  I think they’re about to serve dessert anyway.”

“And you’re going to miss it?”  Misty pouts.

“Misty,” Harry says,  “You know damn well I’m going to be enjoying my own dessert.”

Misty rolls her eyes.  “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

“You did, yeah.”  He pinches her butt.  “Now go.  Please.  I’m hungry.”

“Oh my godddd. Fine.”

She presses one more quick kiss to Harry’s cheek and turns to leave, but he reaches forward-- taking her hand and spinning her back around.  “Wait.”

“Hm?”

“When I come in, you’ll be the only one who can see me. You’ll have to cover for me when I get under the table.”

“Okay.”  Misty nods.  “I’ll pretend I dropped something under there, and I’ll lift the table cloth.”

Harry grins.  “Alright.  Good girl.”

“God,” Misty laughs,  “You’re relentless, huh?”

“What do you mean?” The way Harry’s smiling, he knows exactly what Misty means.

“You just want to get me as worked up as you possibly can, don’t you?”

“You caught me.”

Misty rolls her eyes.  “God you’re annoying.  Okay, I’m going.  See you soon.”

“See you soon, bug.”

Misty turns once again to exit, and Harry gives her bum a quick and subtle slap, which makes her giggle.  

As Harry watches her go, he tries to ignore the ache in his bones.  He’s exhausted-- of course-- from exuding so much energy, but he doesn’t even care.  It feels so good to feel alive again like this.  To be on the arm of a pretty girl, in the midst of a bunch of young happy people with their whole lives ahead of them.

He sighs, pushing his yearning feeling far out of his head and ignoring the exhaustion in his body.  He’s going to give Misty a few minutes to get settled in her seat before he joins her, and he thinks maybe he should go hide in the bathroom for a moment to give himself a bit of an energy break.

The idea is quickly shattered, however, when Angie and her date turn the corner, giggling all over one another. Angie stops dead in her tracks as soon as she sees Harry, and she grows visibly embarrassed.

“Oh! Harry! Hi!”

Harry smiles politely. “Hello Angie. This must be your lucky man.”

Angie smiles shyly up at her date. “Yeah,” she says, “this is Eric. Eric, this is Harry.  He’s Misty’s date tonight.”

“Hey man!” Eric removes his arm from around Angie’s shoulders and holds it out for Harry. “Nice to meet you!”

Eric seems like a pleasant guy, a bit on the short side with big brown eyes and hair that has been perfectly gelled for this evening. Harry shakes his hand warmly, grateful for the fact that Eric hardly seems to even notice the temperature of his hands.

“Where you from, brother?” Eric asks. “Never seen you around before.”

“I’m from Misty’s hometown.”  Harry nods. “Known each other for ages. It’s a sort of casual thing between us, you know?”

“Right on!” Eric grins. “Sort of casual for Ang and I too, I suppose.”

Angie’s face falls just the slightest bit for only half a second, and if Harry had blinked he’d have missed it. She smiles. “Yeah!” She adds. “Super casual.”

“How wonderful.” Harry grins. “You’re a lucky man, Eric.”

Angie blushes at Harry’s words, then gives Eric’s arm a squeeze. “Harry you’re way too nice.” She lets go of Eric’s arm, turning towards the restroom door. “I’m gonna run to the bathroom, if you guys will just excuse me for a second.”

Harry and Eric mumble their goodbyes as Angie makes her way quickly into the bathroom.  Harry smiles at Eric, nodding his head as a parting gesture before turning to make his way to Misty.

“Wait, Harry.”

Eric’s voice surprises Harry, and he whirls back around.  “What’s up man?”

Eric seems hesitant, opening his mouth and then closing it.  He laughs, as if embarrassed of his own self, before speaking.  “Man… I don’t know why I’m asking you this.”

Harry steps back towards Eric, his friendly smile never leaving his face.  “You alright?”

“No I’m good! I just… maybe it’s cause I’m drunk… but I’m--” Eric sighs.  “Dude, I don’t know what to do.”

“About what?”

“Angie,” Eric admits.  “You know, like, I really like her and I-- I don’t know.”

“Mm.”  Harry nods.  “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know if… if she feels the same.”  Eric seems nervous, and Harry smiles reassuringly.

“Are you kidding me?  Do you not see the way she looks at you?”  Eric’s eyebrows furrow, as if what Harry is saying makes no sense to him, so Harry continues.  “She looks at you like you hung the bloody moon, mate.”

“Seriously?”

“You know, I asked her about you earlier. ‘Course, I didn’t know who you were.  But when I asked who her lucky man was, her face lit up like the sun.  How long have you been an item?”

Eric smiles a dimpled smile, seemingly relaxed.  “Almost two months now, I would say.”

“Why the hesitation, then?  If you don’t mind me asking.”

Eric sighs.  “I don’t know, man.  I guess I just…I don’t want to do things wrong.”

“You want to know what I think?” Harry takes a step forward.

“Yeah. If you don’t mind.”

Harry takes in a big breath, pondering the words he’s about to say. He opens his mouth, then closes it, before taking a step towards Eric. “I think,” he begins slowly, “that life is too short.”

Eric chuckles. “Man, it really is, huh?”

Harry nods. “Way too fucking short—pardon my French- to let perfect moments pass you by.”

“Yeah?”

“Mate, if you really feel this way about her, and you know you have this beautiful connection… why wait? You know what I mean?  There were--er, are-- so many moments in my life that I look back on and think, ‘god if only I hadn’t been so stupd.  If only I had done this, or said that.  If only, if only, if only.  And I think…”  Harry sighs.  “I think that when it comes to telling someone how you feel about them…  it’s important to be honest and vulnerable. That’s what makes you feel human.”  Harry smiles, almost lost in his own thoughts.  

“And feeling human,” he adds,  “The good and the bad, is what life is.”

Eric doesn’t reply right away. He smiles, taking in everything that Harry is saying to him. “Shit dude,” he says, after a long while. “That’s some profound shit.”

“Nah,” Harry says, playing it off with a cheeky smile. “We’re just drunk.”

Eric laughs at this. “Maybe. But that was really good advice.”

Harry shrugs. “Just telling you what I wish someone had told me.”

“Yeah.” Eric grins. “Well thanks man.  Ang and I were coming over here to like….” Eric lowers his voice, “.... do stuff, but like, I want her to know it’s more than that for me. You know?”

“I know.”  The door to the women’s restroom begins opening and Harry raises his eyebrows cheekily. “Off you go then,” he tacks on quietly.

Harry turns to exit just as Angie enters, and he can’t help but feel somewhat giddy in his stomach for Eric. He hears Eric and Angie chatting softly behind him when he’a suddenly stopped by the sound of his own name.

“Harry!”

Harry turns on his heel. “Hm?”

“Thanks.”  

Angie glances between Eric and Harry, a bit confused but still smiling. Harry shoots her a quick wink before raising two fingers to his eyebrow and saluting Eric loosely. Eric smiles, an unspoken confirmation between him and Harry, and Harry rounds the corner, leaving him and Angie to talk things out.

And now, there’s only one pressing matter on Harry’s mind:

Making Misty cum until she can’t think straight.

Misty’s stomach churns as she watches Harry enter the room.  She is so nervous for what she knows is about to happen, and yet she’s so excited.  She makes casual small talk-- of course about Harry-- with the others at her table.  “Yeah he went out for a cigar and then got an important phone call from work” and “oh yeah, we met a few springs back.  It’s been very casual” and “God, I know, he’s handsome, isn’t he?”

Harry’s eyes never leave Misty’s face, and he’s smirking so deeply it makes Misty’s stomach (and other parts of her) twitch. “Hiya, baby,” he says quietly, and Misty has to raise her drink to her lips to cover up the enormous smile on her face.

“You remember you have to help me out here?” Harry asks, and Misty doesn’t answer him. Instead, she subtly knocks her knife off of the table.

It doesn’t cause much of a commotion, just enough for the others at the table to glance in her direction.  “Oops!” Misty says, “My bad!” She leans over, lifting the tablecloth and shooting Harry a subtle glance.

He grins. “Sneaky girl,” he mutters, before dropping to his knees and crawling under the bit of space that Misty has opened up for him.

Misty tries to cover up the rustling of the tablecloth as Harry crawls, and luckily the movement goes pretty much completely unnoticed by all of her drunken peers.  Harry settles himself beneath the table, and grins at her.   He presses a kiss to her knee.  

“Still good with this?”

“Yes,” Misty whispers.  “Are you?”

Harry scoffs, gently running his hands up her calves.  “What a dumb question.”

Blood rushes to Misty’s cheeks as she drops the tablecloth and sits up straight. She offers the others at her table a forced smile, but no one seems to notice or care.  She squirms, parting her legs ever so slightly.

Harry reaches for the bottom of her long dress, taking his time and really teasing her by building up anticipation as he drags the fabric up her calves. He kisses the skin he exposes as he goes, taking care to love on her knees a little extra because he knows they’re sensitive.  Misty instinctively opens her legs a bit more, and Harry chuckles quietly.

“Gonna need you a bit more open than that, love.” He gently pries her knees apart, bunching up the fabric of her dress and gasping quietly at the sight before him when he realizes what he’s looking at.

“Ohhh, baby,”  he breathes, “no panties?”  He reaches forward with a single finger, teasing at where he knows she’s already damp. “My god, you’re a dream.”

She wiggles a bit in her seat, hoping for more friction from Harry’s finger, and Harry chuckles almost menacingly. “Squirmy little thing, aren’t you? Barely even touching you yet.”

Harry leans in, pressing another slow kiss to her knee before trailing his lips and tongue up her thigh. He drapes the skirt of her dress over his head, immediately shivering at the feeling of her warmth and wondering if she likes the sensation of his coldness.  

Under the protection of her skirt, all Harry can see, hear, and smell is Misty, and he takes a moment to really soak it all in. Her scent is intoxicating, and he swears that if he were alive, he would be more than content to live out the rest of his days with his face buried between her legs.

Harry takes a big deep breath in through his nose, and exhales slowly, making a point to blow against her skin. He can feel her subtly shiver, and he grins.  This is going to be easier than he thought.

For him at least.

“Now careful,” he taunts.  “Gonna keep quiet for me?” He smirks, pulling away to tease her skin lightly with his finger.  “That was a trick question.  Know you’re going to because you don’t have a choice.”

Misty kicks lightly at Harry, and he grunts.  “Ouch.  Feisty thing.”  He grins. “Alright, alright.  I’ll stop teasing.”

And somehow, Misty doesn’t believe him.

Harry leans in, licking and kissing softly at her clit, just to get her nice and relaxed.  His curls tickle at her thighs, and he hooks his arms around her legs to hold her in place. He’s hardly even started, and yet she’s already so wet. He’d be lying if he said that didn’t do wonders for his ego.

He can faintly hear the conversation going on above the table, but he does make out his name and something about missing out on dessert.  

“He’ll be fine,” Misty says.  “I’ll grab him a slice in a bit.”

“What a generous girl you are,” Harry mumbles, although he isn’t sure if Misty’s heard him or not.  If she had heard him, though, he doesn’t give her time to react.  He opens his lips wider, lapping at her clit from a new angle that makes her shiver.  She squirms in her seat, lowering herself just a bit so that Harry has easier access, and he unhooks one of his arms from her legs to rub gently at her clit while he repositions himself.

Misty squirms against him, and her hands make their way under the table.  Harry isn’t sure what exactly she’s doing until her skirt is lifted up from over his head, and he blinks in the dim light.  

“What, baby?”  he asks.

She threads her fingers through his curls, squeezing, before gently trying to push his head back down.

“Oh you want my hair?”  Harry chuckles. “Cute.”

He licks gently at her clit, enjoying the way her fingers scratch a bit harshly into his scalp. He hums. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Misty jolts when Harry kisses a specific spot, and he chuckles. “Ohhh...You liked that, didn’t you?”  Harry pulls back, examining the spot he just kissed.  “Noted.”

Harry leans in then, attacking the same spot he’d just been lapping at, and the way Misty yanks suddenly at his curls informs him that it’s definitely a good spot.  He moves his hand to grip either side of her waist.

“Misty,” Harry gulps quietly, grasping at her as if he can feel her slipping through his fingers. “Baby, please, I need—“

Misty’s fingers curl into Harry’s hair even more, tugging slightly until Harry finds himself with his forehead pressed to her thigh. He shivers, mumbling against her skin,  “Need you to open up just a bit more for me, baby.”  Without thinking, he presses a kiss to the fleshy spots just below her pussy as she continues to scratch affectionately at his head.  “You’ve done such a good job.  Been good so far.  Need you open.”  Harry sponges kisses along the hem of her dress.

Misty pulls Harry’s head up gently by his curls and rubs her thumb along his cheekbone before squeezing lightly at his cheeks, opening her legs more and pulling him closer to her pussy.

Harry needs only that squeeze as a starter gun, and then he’s off. His hands find their way up to her hips as he bunches up her skirt.  He presses several chaste kisses to the velvet soft skin of her inner thigh, taking his time to soak in her warmth before attaching his lips to her pussy again.

He flattens his tongue along her, licking a long broad stripe just to get the wetness all soaked into his tongue before wrapping his lips around her clit.  He sucks softly, flicking his tongue between his slightly parted lips to give her a heavier sensation.

Misty hums quietly, letting her nails trail along his scalp to the back of his neck.  He knows she wants to moan, and it only encourages him to work harder.  He removes his lips from her clit with a popping noise that startles her, and she lifts the tablecloth ever so slightly.  Their eyes meet, and Harry can tell she’s already fucked.  He grins.

“They couldn’t hear that,” he reminds her. “You’re the only one who has to keep quiet here.”

There’s a visible lump in Misty’s throat as she sighs, begrudgingly removing her eyes from Harry and focusing on the party occurring around her.  Harry clicks his tongue.

“Ohh,” Harry coos,  “poor baby.  Feels so good and she can’t even moan for me, can she?  Sweet girl.”

Harry pulls the tablecloth out of her hands, yanking it back down before resuming the movement of his tongue against her clit. She squirms against him, obviously growing impatient.

“You love this so much,” Harry says,  “don’t you, sunshine?”

Harry doesn’t know if he’s ever in his existence had it this bad for anyone before, and somewhere deep down he knows that Misty fully cognizant of the power she holds over him. It’s exciting for the both of them really, and Harry knows that Misty does not take it lightly.  Still, he loves the exhilaration of teasing her to no end-- he loves how wet it gets her and he especially loves being the only one who gets to see her like this.

Harry lets out a low-bellied grunt, and Misty sighs, an almost inaudible mumble of “oh god” passing her pretty lips.  Harry removes his mouth from her clit, tilting his head to attach it instead to the sensitive skin of her inner thigh with a mumbled coo of,  “Careful.”  He sucks harshly, pulling until he feels her skin against his teeth and then he lets off with a pop.  Misty wants to moan so badly it’s killing her, and Harry can see her toes curling in her heels.  He kisses the spot he’s just bitten, where he knows a mark is already beginning to blossom.

“Feel how wet you are?” He asks.  “Feel how messy you get just from a bit of teasing?  Are you not embarrassed to be so wet??”

“Christ.”  Misty’s voice is so low only Harry can hear it, but he smiles against her inner thigh when he does.

“How cute,” he muses, reaching out to feel the stickiness pooling between her legs. “I wonder what everyone would say if they knew how messy you get for me.” He brings his fingers to his lips, tasting the wetness against his fingertips and humming to himself.  “Wonder if they can smell you.”

Harry buries his tongue directly into the center of her and shakes his head a bit, ignoring the one loose curl of his that falls into his face.  He can feel Misty’s entire body tense up, and he knows she’s close.  He takes his opportunity to make it a million times worse for her; with one hand he reaches up and spreads her lips further apart.  With the other hand, he gently tickles at the back of her knee.

She squirms, partly from his touch against the sensitive part of her leg but mostly from the sensation of his tongue against her clit.  He can see her fingers clench against her chair, and he smiles before buying his own fingers inside of her warmth.  Misty all but lurches forward, and Harry is almost worried he’s given her too much too quickly.  Still, he’s nothing if not a tease, so he curls his fingers gently inside of her.

He smirks, deciding that she’s had enough teasing and wanting to make her cum. He can hear her let out a quiet, breathy giggle, obviously confused at the sensations she’s feeling, overwhelmed with the desire to both laugh and moan, and when he thinks she’s had enough he pulls his fingers away from her knee.

Harry hums against her core, shaking his head. “Cum for me, sweet girl.”

Misty grips the edge of the table at the same time Harry notices her stomach clenches, and then he knows she’s cumming because her knees begin trembling.  He can feel her orgasm pulsating through her, and he works her through it patiently with his tongue.  He curls his fingers a bit more, and sucks a bit harsher, and for a moment he completely loses himself in his own actions.

He’s never seen Misty so wound up, and she lightly stomps her heels against the ground in frustration.  He knows she feels good-- hell, he feels good, too-- and he tries his best to keep her as grounded and still as he possibly can.

It’s when she tangles her fingers in his hair to lightly tug his head away that he realizes he hasn’t stopped, and she’s completely spent.

Harry sits for a moment, staring at her soaked pussy and now slightly bruised thighs, and he admires his work.  She combs her fingers lovingly through his curls, and he knows she’s thanking him for making her feel so good.  It’s then, of course, that he realizes exactly how exhausted he is.  He turns his head to kiss gently at her wrist, then allows himself to sit for a moment and catch his breath.

He doesn’t know how much longer he’s going to last like this. He’s never used this much energy in manifesting before, and he didn’t expect it to be this hard. But Misty is having a wonderful time, and of course so is he— he doesn’t want the night to end by any means, but god, is he ready to lay down.

Harry musters up all the strength he can manage and taps Misty’s knee. “Can you let me out, sweet girl?”

It takes Misty a moment before she lifts the tablecloth, pretending to mess with her heels.  She gives Harry the softest smile the moment their eyes meet, and she looks completely wrecked in a way that only he would recognize.  He chuckles.

“Got you that good, did I?” He begins crawling out from under the table, trying his best to cover how exhausted he is.  As he passes Misty he presses a chaste kiss to her nose, making her giggle.  “I’ll be back.”  

He rises, weakly, to his feet-- and he hopes Misty doesn’t notice how slowly he moves, but she does, and she frowns.  He brushes it off, refusing to make it into a big deal, and then disappears from sight.

Misty is left, trying to cover up the fact that she’s struggling to catch her breath-- and she smiles the moment she sees Harry physically enter the room.

He’s grinning- because of course he is— and his finger guns in Josh’s direction do not go unnoticed by Misty. She rolls her eyes as he approaches the table, smiling brightly at everyone in the small circle.

“Sorry,” he says convincingly, “my mum called.”

Misty smiles up at him. “Oh that’s okay, my love! Everything okay?”

Harry grins at her, reaching over to take her hand in his own. “Everything is absolutely fine. Couldn’t be better, in fact.”

Misty grins, obviously flustered just by the way he’s looking at her. “Yeah?”

He leans forward, kissing her nose lightly.  “Yeah.”  

Harry turns to everyone at the table, smiling that charming smile that Misty is so obsessed with.  “Now,” he says, “Am I too late to get a slice of this cheesecake?”

----

Harry drops, completely spent, onto Misty’s bed.  As soon as she closes the door behind her she rushes to him, immediately undoing the laces on his left shoe.

He’s paler now, his skin looking thin and white, and he smiles sleepily down at her as she gets to work tugging his shoe off.  She seems worried, but he only chuckles.

“Had so much fun with you,” he says, voice weak.  “Did you have fun?”

“Harry, you shouldn’t have put so much energy forward.”

“Wanted to,” he says.  “Worth it.”

“Harry,” Misty coos, tugging the shoe off of his foot before working on the other.  “My god, look at you.”

“Just sleepy,” Harry says.  “I’ll be completely back to normal tomorrow.  Promise.”

Misty is unconvinced; she frowns as she tugs off his other shoe before sitting fully on the bed, crawling up the length of his body.

“I’m gonna undress you,” she says.  “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” he sighs,  “‘Course it’s okay.”

Misty begins by unbuttoning his suit jacket, then the buttons of his shirt. Harry watches her the entire time, reveling in her warmth. “Feels nice to be taken care of like this.  Wish you didn’t have to.”

“Harry, it’s the least I can do.  You’ve done so much for me.   You shouldn’t have come out tonight.  You should have…”  She notices the way he’s watching her, and it catches her off guard.  “What?”

Harry grunts, trying weakly to prop himsef up on his elbows.  “Do you realize,’ he says, voice frail, “that this is the most fun I’ve had in years?  That getting to feel alive, with the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known, is worth any pain I might be in now?”  He catches Misty’s worried frown, and quickly tacks on, “But I’m not in pain. Just sleepy.”

Misty sighs. “I can’t help but feel like it’s my fault.”

“Awfully selfish of you,” Harry teases. “Not everything is about you, you know.”

Misty rolls her eyes, using all of her strength to sit Harry up and remove his jacket. Harry chuckles, a weak laugh that trails off into a cough. “I promise,” he says, as she settles him back down. “I’m okay. I’m just sleepy. It’s not like I’m dying.”

He watches her expectantly, waiting for a reaction and obviously proud of his stupid joke.

Misty shoots him a deadpanned glare that makes him cackle. “Come onnn,” he says, “that was a good one!”

“How can you still be so annoying when you’re so exhausted?” Misty says, chuckling as she works to unbutton his shirt.

Harry doesn’t answer her, propping an arm up behind his head and watching her work.  She allows her eyes to trail down his body as she reaches the bottom button, pausing at a small patch of hair she notices leading from his bellybutton down into his trousers.  Her breath hitches in her throat as she comes to the realization that she’s never seen him beneath his clothes.

Harry seems to realize this at the same time, and his smile fades just a hair.  “What, baby?”

Misty doesn’t answer him.  Instead she slowly pulls the two sides of his shirt apart further, exposing his entire torso.  She lets out her breath slowly, surprised at how completely normal he looks. She reaches a hand forward but stops herself, unsure if she should actually touch him.

“You know I used to have a tattoo there,” Harry offers.

Misty’s eyes flicker from his tummy to his face.  “Yeah?”

“Yeah.  I had a ton actually.  But I guess when you die, they don’t come with you.”

“What were they?”

Harry trills his lips.  “God I had so many I don’t even remember all of them.  There was a butterfly right here--” he points to the direct center of his stomach, --”some swallows here--” his collarbones,  “and…” Harry smirks, pointing to his hip bones.  “Some ferns here.”

“God.”  Misty continues to scan at his body, eyes landing on a soft purple mark on his ribs.

Harry knows immediately what Misty sees, and he smiles softly at her, taking her hand in his as his face takes on a far more serious expression.  “Where I landed,” he explains. “When I—“

“Oh my god...” Misty is torn between wanting to touch the scar and wanting to leave it be, and Harry seems to be completely sympathetic to that because he only chuckles.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” He asks. “Took me a while to get used to.”

“I didn’t…” Misty trails off, confused as to how she should even word her question. “I mean, I didn’t think—“

“I know,” Harry says. “It’s weird. I mean how could you ever even know what to expect to see on a ghosts body? How could you  expect, like… a sign of death on another body.”

“I just—“ Misty genuinely doesn’t know what to say, and she’s so thankful that Harry doesn’t pressure her at all.

“I know,” he repeats. “It’s weird.”

“Can I…” Misty’s voice is hardly above a whisper when she speaks. “Can I touch it?”

Harry smiles softly.  “If you’d like.”

“I--”  Misty trails off, unsure of what exactly it is that she’d like to say.  She reaches forward with a timid hand, almost pulling her hand completely back before touching the gentle purple mark.  It’s not raised-- she doesn’t know why she was expecting it to be-- but it’s colder than the entire rest of his body.  She gasps without even realizing what she’s doing.  Harry flinches slightly at her touch, but he doesn’t move.

He allows Misty to run a loving finger over his scar, taking in exactly what it is she’s looking at, before he speaks.  “Are you alright?”

“What?”  It takes Misty a moment to realize what he means, and she tears her eyes from the scar immediately. “Oh god, yeah, sorry.  I’m okay, I just--”

“It’s weird,” Harry says for what feels like the ninetieth time.  “I know.”

Misty sighs, hesitating a bit, as if she wants to say something more. She scans his body again, glancing up at his eyes sadly, before slowly moving forward.  

She moves as if in slow motion, and Harry watches her with baited breath. She squirms a bit, angling her body a certain way, and lowering her face towards his torso.  Harry realizes with sadness what she’s doing, and pressure builds behind his eyes when she lowers her lips to the purple scar.  She presses the most velvet soft kiss Harry thinks he’s ever felt into his flesh, and his eyes cloud with mist.

Misty trails her lips from his ribs up to his collarbone. There is nothing but love in her movements, and Harry tries to swallow down a lump in his throat.  His breath is shaky as he looks down at her, loving on his body.  

She seems lost in her movements, kissing all over his torso as her lashes flutter slowly.  She lowers her lips to his stomach, and he can’t stop the single tear that slips from his left eye.

He hasn’t been loved on like this in years, and he’d almost forgotten what it felt like.

There is no sexual intention behind her kisses, and her low breath from her nose tickles gently just above his belly button.  Harry reaches up to dab at his eye, trying to prevent another tear from escaping.  “Misty,” he says, voice cracking the slightest bit.  “Darling--”

“Harry,” she says softly against the skin of his tummy.  She lifts her head, looking into his eyes and giving him a sympathetic smile.  She reaches up to wipe at his cheek with her thumb, and she doesn’t move her hand away when she’s done. She sighs.  “You are so, so beautiful.”

“Misty,” he says.  “I don’t--”  He trails off when she pecks at his collarbone, trailing warm, wet kisses up his neck.  She noses at his cheek when her lips hit his chin, and then she’s kissing his lips.  It’s all so gentle, so ridiculously intimate and sweet, and Harry doesn’t even realize he’s still crying when two more tears roll down his cheek.

“My sweet boy,” she says, pulling away to wipe gently at his cheeks.  “My god.”

“It’s not fair,” Harry whispers.  “It’s not fair.”

“I know,” she says, continuing to run her thumbs over his cheeks.  “I know, baby.  But it is what it is.  And Harry…”  She smiles softly.  “We can’t let it hang over the time we have left like a raincloud.  Hm?  Remember that?”

Harry laughs in spite of himself, knowing that she’s repeating his own words.   “I know,” he says.   He reaches up weakly to cup her face as well.  “I just want to be able to love you the way you deserve. Fully.  Without fear.”

Misty’s heart freezes the minute she hears Harry speak the word “love” but she doesn’t react.  Instead, she leans in, kissing his jaw.  “Harry,” she says slowly.  “I know it’s not ideal.  But you have given me the best month of my entire life.  I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”

“Don’t,” Harry says, “Don’t say that.  You don’t need to thank me.  Misty I--”

“Shhh.”  Misty rubs her thumb along his bottom lip.  “I know.”  She smiles now, trying her best to hold back her own tears.  “I’m so… so thankful for you.  My beautiful boy. We will meet again, okay?  I promise you.”

Harry swallows thickly.  “I know we will.  I’m coming back the moment I can.”

“See?” she says, smiling.  “And next time will be even better.  But you know what?”  she sniffs, feeling herself slip further into sadness and begging herself not to cry. “We’ve still got a few more days, yeah?”

“We do, yeah.”  Harry chuckles, reaching up to wipe at his eyes.  “God, I’m a sap aren’t I?  I didn’t think this was going to hit me so hard.”

“It’s good, my love!  Sometimes it’s okay to let your emotions out like this.   You’ve done so much for me.  Let me love on you a little bit for a change.”

“You love on me constantly!”

“No,” Misty says.  “Not enough.”  She kisses him again before sitting up.  “Let me get changed.  We’ll go to sleep.  We both need it.”

Harry watches her rise to her feet, and he reaches up to wipe at his damp face.  “You’re too good to me, sunshine.”

“Yeah, yeah.  You can thank me later.”

Harry snorts and Misty throws him a joking glance over her shoulder.  “I’ll be right back.”

Misty disappears into the hallway, making her way to the bathroom to wash her face, brush her teeth, and put on a t-shirt.  She allows herself a few tears, crying quietly to herself for only a minute because god, it hurts so bad.  It hurts feeling something so deep for somebody who isn’t even alive; for someone who she knows she’s going to have to spend 90% of the next year without.  

As soon as she allows herself that moment of weakness, however, she forces it to pass.  Wiping her tears away, she continues with her bedtime routine, making sure she doesn’t look like she’s been crying before making her way back into her bedroom.

When she gets there, Harry is fast asleep on top of her bed-- still in a state of various undress.  She recalls him telling her that ghosts don’t sleep, not exactly, but he looks so peaceful-- wherever he is right now.  

Misty works to gently undress him the rest of the way as he blinks sleepily, hardly even responding to her at all. And when he’s in only a pair of boxers, Misty crawls into bed beside him after turning off the light.

She rolls onto her side, watching him as he sleeps-- or, whatever it is ghosts do.  He looks so beautiful, and she reaches forward to gently stroke at the scar on his ribs again. She loves him, she thinks.  Even though she’s only known him for a short amount of time, she loves him. And there’s an ache in such a weirdly specific part of her heart that she can’t even begin to put into words.  

Pressing the gentlest kiss to Harry’s temple, she cuddles into his side, and he subconsciously wraps an arm lazily around her.  Misty wills herself not to cry-- not to think about the situation at all-- as she drifts gently to sleep.

-----

It’s a somber day.  Colder than usual.  Misty sits with her feet dangling over the side of her bed, and Harry stands off in the corner of her room, nervously fidgeting with some of the trinkets on her shelf.

They know it’s coming.  They’ve known it was coming for the last few days, but they’ve both been avoiding the subject, pretending that if they just ignore it, it will go away.

But it won’t go away.  And Harry has to leave.

Harry glances out the window.  It’s gray outside, matching the atmosphere in the room.  The trees blow angrily outside Misty’s window, and Harry swears he can feel the wind in his body.

“Looks like it’s going to rain,” he remarks casually.

Misty doesn’t reply, and he turns around to see her just staring sadly at him.  She isn’t crying, not yet anyway, but her eyes look damp.

“Are you sure you can’t stay?” Her voice is quiet, like she doesn’t want to be asking the question, and she won’t even look directly at him. It makes his heart-- however dead it is-- feel like its shattering, and he takes a step towards her.

He brushes her hair behind her ear.  “You know I wish I could,” he says, equally as quiet.

“And what would happen if you just… didn’t?”

“Didn’t what?”

“I don’t know.  Didn’t… go?”

Harry smiles sadly.  “It doesn’t work like that.  I don’t have a choice.”

Misty opens her mouth, then closes it again.  Her breath hitches in her throat before she lets it all out in a sigh.  “What’s it like?”  She’s speaking in a whisper.

“What is what like?”  Harry matches her tone.

“When you… go, I mean.  The process. Do you just like, fall asleep?  Or is it like you just blink and you’re in the void?”

Despite the heaviness of their conversation, Harry chuckles.  “Somewhere in between, I suppose.”

“Does it hurt?”  She gulps subconsciously, and she looks so curious and cute right now Harry could scream.

He shakes his head. “No.  Doesn’t feel like anything.”

“So one minute you’re here and the next you’re just…”  She trails off, and Harry sighs.

“Gone,” he finishes somberly.  “Yes.”

After a beat, Misty chuckles bitterly.  “Seems a bit unfair.”

“I’ll be back the first moment I can be,” Harry says, then adds with a smile, “If you’ll have me.”

“Of course I will,” she says, finally turning to face him fully.  She takes his cold hands in her own, and her warmth makes him shiver.  “I’ll wait for you every single day.”

“Don’t say that,” Harry says, shaking his head and sitting beside her on the bed.  “You have a life to live.  I don’t.”

Misty’s eyes grow damp, but she blinks back the tears just as quickly as they arrived.  “But I’m going to miss you so much,” she says through a shaky voice.

It all seems silly, really, for Harry and Misty both.  But neither of them can help it.  This connection they’ve formed in such a short amount of time weighs heavily on both of their hearts.  And Harry is certain that he would do just about anything in the universe to get another chance at life, if only to be with her.

“I’m going to miss you so much it’s going to hurt me every second,” Harry says, not a trace of humor in his voice despite the slight exaggeration.

Misty lets out her breath in a loud, shaky sigh.  She rests her head on Harry’s shoulder, and for a while they just sit there like this, him and her, pretending with all their might-- if only for a few minutes-- that this is just another day for them.  That Harry is human, and that they can grow old together.

“I have a selfish request,” Misty says after a while.

“Anything.”

Misty takes a deep breath.  “Will you come visit me?  In my dreams?”

“You already know that’s my plan.”

“Every dream?”

Harry chuckles.  “Well, that’s a bit of a tall order.  I don’t know if I’ll be able to come every night.  But, as often as I can, and as often as you’ll have me, I will come.”

“Promise?”

Harry turns to kiss Misty’s forehead.  “I promise.”

Misty closes her eyes and leans gently into Harry’s kiss, breathing in the scent of cinnamon that she’s grown to love so much.  “So when does it happen?” she asks, almost hesitantly.  “When do you… go?”

“I don’t know the exact moment,” Harry admits.  “Whenever the sun enters Sagittarius. Whatever that exact time is.”

“Is there gonna be a Sagittarius Season ghost?”  Misty asks.  “Ghost of Sagittarians past?”

Harry laughs. “I don’t think so, no.  But if there is, don’t go fallin’ in love with him now.  Sagittarians are nothin’ but trouble.”

“Don’t think I ever could,” Misty says, a bittersweet ache in her voice.  “Think I’ll only ever have feelings for you.”

Harry sighs, patting gently at Misty’s knee.  He savors her scent and her warmth for a few beats before he changes the subject.  “Your sisters will be glad to have you around again,” he says.  “I know I’ve been hoggin’ ya.  They must think you’re really goin’ through something, the way you’re keeping to yourself.”

“They wouldn’t understand even if I did try to explain it to them,” Misty replies.

Harry nods sympathetically.  “And you’re gonna have a hard time explaining to them what happened to your mysterious long distance boyfriend from back home.”

“Oh shit,” Misty says, worry suddenly showing on her face.  “What am I gonna tell them when they ask?”

“Tell them he died.”  The look on Harry’s face is so smug, and Misty can tell that he’d been holding onto that one for a while.  She rolls her eyes, but doesn’t even try to refrain from smiling.

“Oh my god, Harry.”

“It’s not wrong!”

“That’s not funny!” The smile on Misty’s face tells Harry otherwise, and he nudges her shoulder with his own.

“Alright alright.”  Harry smiles, reaching forward to interlace their fingers.  There’s a moment of drab silence, and Harry sighs thickly before finally admitting weakness. “God, I’m going to miss you.”

Misty’s smile softens, but it doesn’t completely fade.  She turns her head, pressing the softest kiss to Harry’s shoulder.  “I’m going to miss you more than you know.”

There’s a comfortable silence that falls between the two of them, and Harry interlaces his fingers with hers.  “Maybe you’ll meet a boy to take you to next year's homecoming,” he muses.

Misty frowns.  “That’s not funny either.”

“Not trying to be funny! Trying to encourage you to live your life, darling.  I wish I could still live mine.”

“You can live in my dreams. Rent free.”

With a snort, Harry stands up. “Oh I intend to. As much as possible.”

“Well good.”

Harry walks over to Misty’s window again, watching the trees blow in the wind for a few quiet moments.  After a bit, he speaks again.  “I have an idea.”

“Hm?”

“Let’s have fun tonight. Let’s watch a movie. I’ll manifest in front of everyone and we can end on a high note. Instead of being sad.”

Misty considers his words for a moment. “But I want you to myself.”

Harry grins. “So they won’t question it when we excuse ourselves early, will they?”

Misty rolls her eyes.  “Well, when you put it that way--”

Harry laughs.  “No one even has to join in with us if they don’t want to.  But I figure my last night here shouldn’t be spent so upset.”

“Yeah,” Misty agrees.  “But I’m still gonna be sad.”

“Don’t you want to remember me having fun?  That’s how I want you to remember me, at least.”

“Yeah but--”

“No buts!”  Harry holds his hand out to her.  “Come on then. You get to pick the movie.”

The evening progresses unbearably fast, and it isn’t long before Misty finds herself curled up into Harry’s side on the couch, watching him giggle alongside all her sorority sisters and their various partners.  She hopes he doesn’t notice her staring at him, but she can’t help it of course. He is so lovely, so full of some type of light that she has never seen before and cannot seem to get enough of.

As Misty watches him, she realizes how heartbreakingly human he really is.  He may be a ghost, but he died a young college boy— with so much ahead of him and so much to look forward to.  Never in Misty’s life has she seen a more genuine smile, nor has she ever met anyone as charismatic as Harry. Try as she might to forget it, she knows her time with him is coming to an end and she hates it. But watching him interact with everyone around him, as charming as ever, she realizes that he genuinely needed this.  He needed to feel alive, to feel apart of something once again.

So Misty leans closer into him. He smiles down at her, looking so full of life and warmth. He reaches down, pulling the fuzzy red blanket covering both him and Misty up over her shoulders.  “You alright?” He asks softly.

Misty tilts her head, leaning up to press a peck to his nose. “I’m wonderful,” she replies quietly.

Harry grins down at her, and for a moment the two are lost in their own little world— looking into one another’s eyes as if the entire universe existed in them.  As if reading her mind, Harry gives Misty’s lips a soft kiss.  The kiss is tinged with sadness, of course, because the darker it gets outside the less time they know that they have together.  So he pulls away, bumping her nose with his.

“You sleepy?” He asks quietly.

And Misty knows exactly what he means. “Mhm.”

“Mm,” Harry hums. “Me too.”

He moves to rise to his feet to make a graceful exit with Misty. “Well,” he says, addressing the room. “Misty and I are going to go up to sleep now. I have to head back home pretty early tomorrow and—“

“You’re going to fuck,” Kennedy says, matter-of-factly.  Misty and Harry both gape at her, and she laughs.  “It’s alright! No shame in that.  We’re all adults here.”

Misty laughs nervously, and Harry remains calm and smug.  “You’re hilarious, Kennedy.  I think I’ll miss you most of all.”

Kennedy laughs, winking and pointing finger guns at Harry.  Misty rolls her eyes, but she’s giggling as she turns to exit.  Harry follows close behind her and Kennedy calls out, “Be safe! Use protection!”

Harry and Misty giggle the entire trip up the stairs, and as they approach Misty’s bedroom, she speaks quietly.  “Okay, but how are you feeling?  Like, energy wise.”

“Fine,” Harry says, and he honestly means it.

Misty glances at him like she doesn’t believe him, and he snorts.  “I promise, Misty.  I mean it.  I didn’t use that much tonight.”

She rolls her eyes, making her way over to her bed and sitting on the edge of it.  Harry closes the door behind him, still buzzing from the fun he’s had today, and a playful smile spreads across his face. He turns slowly on his heels, eyeing her mischievously.

She looks back, tensing up a bit as a smile spreads across her face.  “What…”

Harry growls playfully, bounding over to her and tackling her onto the bed before she can even say anything.  She squeals, giggling as she and Harry come tumbling down.   Harry attacks her face and her neck in kisses while squeezing at her hips, and she squeals.

“No!” She shrieks.  “What are you doing?!  NO!”

He growls, nipping at her cheeks before lifting his head and grinning down at her.  “Gimme kiss.”

“If I do, will you chill?” She giggles.

Harry makes a face, pretending to consider her words.  “Mm… maybe.”

She lifts her head slightly, pecking at his lips, and he shakes his head.  “Better than that,” he says.

She kisses him again, but he only repeats, “Better than that.”

Misty lets her head fall back again, mouth falling open as the most lovely laughs bubble out of her lips. Harry seizes this opportunity, leaning down and kissing her open mouth with a dimpled grin.

Misty’s giggles die down the minute their lips interlock, but the smile never leaves neither her nor Harry’s faces as they kiss.  Misty licks gently into Harry’s mouth, and he immediately grants her access, swirling his tongue against hers. He speaks between kisses.  “You’re--” kiss, “so--”  kiss, “beautiful.”

Misty rolls her eyes.  “No you are,” she says, and Harry kisses her before she’s even finished her sentence.

He chuckles.  “No you.”

“Nooo…”  She pecks at his nose.  “You.”

Harry snorts. “God we’re disgusting, huh?”

Misty hums, reaching up to brush a stray curl away from Harry’s face.  “Yeah.  Ew.”

He leans down, burying his face in her neck and sucking softly.  He feels her melt against him, squirming a bit as she lets out a long, humming sigh.  He smiles, lifting his head to press another kiss to her lips before speaking.  “I have an idea,” he says.

“Another one?  Do tell.”

“How about……”  Harry sing-songs,  “One more orgasm for you.  As a parting treat.”

“Hmm…” Misty muses.  “Only one?”

Harry snorts.  “Or two.  Or… however many you want.”

“How many do you want to give me?”  Misty scratches lovingly behind Harry’s ear.

“Oh sunshine,’ Harry says,  “If I had my way I would never stop.”

Blood rushes to Misty’s cheeks and ears, but she tries to hide it.  Harry only laughs again, thumbing at her cheek.  “Gonna miss that.”

“What?”

“How easy it is to get you hot.”

Misty rolls her eyes, but she laughs.  “You’re an idiot.”

“Gonna miss that, too.  Love when you insult me.”

“Oh my god.”  Misty shakes her head.  “Just shut up and kiss me.”

Harry hums.  “With pleasure, sweet girl.”

They continue kissing for a bit as Harry undresses Misty gently.  He loves on every inch of her body, reveling in every single reaction he gets out of her. He tries to remember every detail that he can, and everything about the evening they’re sharing.  And when he makes her cum, four separate times, he savours her taste, her smell, and the noises she makes as best as he can-- without making himself even sadder than he is.  He knows she feels the same, noticing the way she continuously glances at him with more love in his eyes than he’s seen in a long time.

After hours of messing around with her, loving on one another’s bodies and sharing giggles and playful kisses, they realize it’s time to go to bed.  They undress one another, and Harry helps her remove her makeup-- which makes them both laugh the entire time.

When they find themselves in bed together, stroking lovingly at one another’s faces, they realize that they can’t run from the inevitable anymore. Their time together has been reduced to only hours, and there is nothing they can do about it at all.

“I’m going to miss you,” Misty says, tracing his features in the darkness.  “Have I told you that already?”

Harry laughs softly.  “Maybe once or twice,” he admits.  “But I’m going to miss you more.”

Misty sighs, kissing his lips gently.  “Promise to come visit my dreams as much as you possibly can?”

Harry leans into her touch, tilting his head to kiss the palm of her hand.  “I promise.”

“I don’t want to fall asleep.” She looks on the verge of tears, and Harry wishes there was something he could do to stop her.  At this point, however, he knows it’s inevitable.  So he tries to make her smile.

“You need to,” he says.  “Humans need sleep.”

“Maybe,” she says.  “But I need you more.”

“That’s not true, baby. You know it’s not.”  Harry strokes a spot just in front of her temple-- a spot he’s noticed over the past month that relaxes her more than anything else.  As if on cue, she yawns.

“Listen to me.  You are meant to live your life, sweet girl.  You are meant to be happy, and grow old.  Promise me you will.”  She frowns at him, but he doesn’t allow it.  “Promise me, baby.”

“I promise,” she whispers.  Harry smiles.

“Say it like you mean it.”

“I promise Harry,” she whispers, blinking against the sleep in her eyes.  “But I also promise that when you return, I will be waiting.”

“That’s fine.  You can wait.  But do not let it stop you from living.  You hear me?  Please don’t. I would give anything to live my life again.”

Misty yawns again, finally giving in to the heaviness of her eyelids and closing her eyes. She leans into him.  “I promise.  I’ll live every day in your honor, Harry.”

“Yeah?”

She smiles sleepily, still not opening her eyes.

Harry watches her, taking in every last detail of her sleepy face.  He can feel himself fading, but she doesn’t seem to notice, so he says nothing.  He ignores the pressure building behind his eyes, swearing to himself that he’s not going to cry.

Misty is also fading fast, succumbing more and more to sleep by the second.  Harry knows it’s going to be a hard year without her, but he takes comfort knowing she is surrounded by people who love her.

And it also doesn’t hurt that he plans on haunting Josh’s dreams so that he leaves Misty the fuck alone.

He smiles softly, completely unable to stop the tear from leaking from his eye.  He’s grateful that Misty’s eyes are closed, and he presses the slowest, most gentle kiss to her forehead.

“I love you, miss Misty.”

Without opening her eyes, Misty speaks with a distant, sleepy voice.  “I love you too, Harry.”

Harry replays that moment in his head for the next few hours, reveling in the way those words sounded coming out of her mouth.

And when Misty wakes in the morning, Harry is gone.

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Persephone’s Symphony | Day One | Hades

Hey lovelies— here is the next part! I wanted to pause here and add a little note: the word tiny is thrown around here. I don’t want this to hinder anyone of you to not read this because you think the word doesn’t apply to you. I want to make a couple things clear. 1) All shapes and sizes are beautiful and I, myself, am a wonderfully plump lady. 2) I don’t use the word as a physical description in a way meant to limit a ‘reader insert’ type of fiction— I use it because Bucky Barnes is a super soldier and anyone would be small to him. Thus I hope you can enjoy it the same way I can— because sometimes we all just need to feel like a super soldier could rip us in half. Stay safe my lovelies and please do enjoy!

Synopsis: In which he is the bad one— the dangerous one, the clunky one, the one who only knows how to break things— and she is the good one— the fragile one, the soft one, the one who knows how to put things back together— and he has to keep her alive long enough for anyone else— anyone who can do more than kill— to save her like she deserves to be saved— to save her from him. There are no pomegranates, no three headed dogs, and no requirement to stay— that is, if they don’t count an assassin on the loose out for her neck. In that case, three days in a safe house doesn’t feel like a long time— just long enough for Persephone and Hades to remember why opposites attract.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (third person)

Warnings: some angsty moments but overall no warnings

Word count: 4.1k

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Master List

She’s tiny. That’s the only thing he can think for the first couple hours. She is so damn tiny and fragile and soft and he doesn’t know how to be around a human that tiny and fragile and soft. Maybe it’s worse because he has to keep this tiny human alive. He hasn’t had to do that before— all the other tiny people in his life have been perfectly capable of keeping themselves alive. Even Steve all those years ago, when he only came up to his shoulder—barely— would have fought tooth and nail to stay alive. Even then it always felt like Bucky was just there in case. Maybe that was just Steve though.

He blinks— he doesn’t want to think about the man right now. He can’t afford to get lost in his head. Gods only know if he starts thinking about those days— the ‘good’ old days— he won’t stop. Maybe not for days. Maybe because they’ll remind him that he’s not supposed to be here— that he isn’t made to keep tiny, gentle, grilled cheese cooking, question asking things alive. Usually he’s the one hindering people from being alive— hindering life itself. Usually it doesn’t bug him this much but he can’t help but equate the girl in the Caltech hoodie with life—

“Is what they say about New York pizza true?”

— And himself with death.

“S’alright— Chicago is better.”

He watches as she flips through a book that she had picked up off the coffee table a few minutes ago. The Big Book of Dogs. Is he supposed to laugh at that? She is— giggling and flipping through pages upon pages of puppies. It isn’t aimed at him, her musical, soft sounds. She isn’t laughing at him. It only feels like she is. He’s learned to separate the difference these days— it’s just in his head. Still, he has to turn away from her, using the guise— his job— of being a bodyguard to keep his gaze moving.

From the corner of his eye he watches as she lowers the book, peaking over at him from behind a peppy looking Alaskan Malamute— yes, he knows his dogs. He is one, after all.

“You know, I think there are quite a few people who disagree with you on that one.”

Bucky pretends to ignore the way she quirks a brow at him, her eyes drifting back to the page. He also ignores the way his heart spikes at the little movement. Snap out of it, Barnes. He stands, stalking to the living room window and pulling back the heavy green curtain. Nobody is out there— he didn’t expect there would be someone, he just needed to move. How many more hours?

“Thought you were asking me.” He quips, staring out towards the bayou where the water has turned grey and choppy.

He watches as the rain pours down the window pane, tap tap tapping in front of his nose as the sunlight surrenders to the misty storm clouds. As much as he hates to admit it, Wilson was right— the rainy season’s rolling in on the dot. Even he is starting to feel the effects, his bones beginning to leaden.

As if on cue, she yawns, setting down The Big Book of Dogs and curling her legs into her chest, hiding them beneath the mountain of fabric she wears. “I was gauging. Consider it a test.”

Bucky huffs— not sure if he’s annoyed because of her questioning or because of how, despite the tension still laced through his shoulder blades like sailors knots, he isn’t that bothered by it. Annoyed because he isn’t annoyed— that’s a first. He lets the curtain drop again and turns to the TV where Netflix lays open but unused, blocking out one mind numbing haze for another. What would they even watch together?

“Oh yeah? Did I pass?”

Maybe some cheesy sit-com. That feels harmless enough and he’s been catching up on a few of them. Some of them even make him laugh. Maybe that’s in poor taste though. He’s never had to deal with someone else’s grief before— he rarely deals with his own as is.

“Maybe it would be better to just not ask that.”

He doesn’t think before he says it— he doesn’t have time to, it slips out before he can grab it and shove it back in his stupid, sentimental mouth. “You sound like Steve.”

Fuck. Her head pokes up, her doe eyes somehow managing to meet his gaze despite how hard he tries to force his neck to turn in the other direction. How does one person look so soft? He can see the question in her eyes, the way they spark with intrigue. He watches in slow motion as her lips— not glossy like they had been in the picture but still just as pink— peel apart.

“Who’s Steve?” Her voice is too sweet— too sincere. Like she actually doesn’t know. Then again, maybe she doesn’t— they never really used his name.

Bucky can’t answer. It’s too early and Steve is too long of a story. One hundred years worth of story, to be precise. How is he supposed to fit all of that into one answer? He can’t. He can’t answer but he can’t not answer either— not when she’s looking at him like she wants to know every little thing about him.

Bucky can’t answer so he doesn’t answer. “You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?”

She sinks back against the leather cushions, pulling her hands into her sweater. He almost curses when she curls her knees closer to her body. He can’t really see them from under her hoodie but he can see the movement— the way she wraps her arms around her legs so that she looks like a tiny blob of fabric and a head. His chest squeezes at the sight of her pulling away from him. Can he ever say anything right?

He told Wilson— he told him that he wouldn’t be a good fit for the job. What, a man like him? Man, dog, wolf, asshole. What’s the difference? He was right, that’s all that matters. It’s been all of five hours and he’s already making her uncomfortable all because he can’t—

“You’re the one who brought it up.” She grumbles, her soft— less sweet— voice pulling him from his unintentional staring contest with her forehead. His neck flushes with heat. Shit.

Bucky sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I know it’s just— it’s a long story, doll.”

Again, it just slips out. Instead of wanting to push the word back into his lips this time, though, he wants to punch himself in the mouth. Doll? Really? He watches as her eyes blow wide, his stomach sinking when her pink lips peel apart again, her jaw going slack but none of her honeyed words coming out this time. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Immediately he begins running through apologies in his head. Of course none of them are actually worth their weight— not in gold or anything else. Not even in the energy it would take to say them. What’s he supposed to say? Sorry the last time I spoke to a woman was eighty years ago. That would be even more explaining. Damnit, Bucky!

He tries not to groan out loud, clenching his jaw, still staring into her eyes. Look away, you idiot! He can’t. He’s about to say something— or maybe he’s about to literally throw himself out the window, he isn’t exactly sure which is going to play out just yet— but before he can do either the delicate girl in the Caltech sweater speaks first.

“I— erm—” she squirms in her seat but her eyes stay latched on him the entire time— maybe she’s a fighter after all— “we have time?”

For a moment he just stares at her, lost in the way her nose scrunches, her lips pressing together like she’s the one who said something out of line. Like she, too, is contemplating punching herself in the face. That’s when he caves. It’s to save her from a broken nose. He repeats it like a mantra. He isn’t giving in because he’s weak, he’s giving in because it’s his job to make sure she’s safe— even from herself.

He takes a step forward, only now realizing he’s been standing in the middle of the room the entire time. Has he always been this fucking awkward? Nodding his chin towards the floor, the space in front of where she’s perched, he shoots her a look he can only hope resonates as something along the lines of ‘can I sit?’. She nods and he lowers himself to the ground in front of her, leaning against the side of the couch as gently as the super soldier can muster. Despite his efforts he still lands with a thud, the couch shifting backwards a couple inches. It’s not terrible— she only slightly flinches this time and he only kind of wants to bury himself alive.

“Not that much time—” he watches as her face drops, the way her her cheek twitches like she's sinking her teeth into it, and he hurries the rest of his sentence— “but if you ask—” he tries for a smile that feels more like the right side of his face seizing than anything— “then I’ll answer.”

He waits for a beat, his gaze locked on her hands which she pulls from her sleeves only to twist together again. He has to stop himself from looking down at his own hands— from thinking again about how fragile and delicate she is. He doesn’t have to look to know that both of her hands could fit in one of his. Especially his special hand. She hasn’t asked about it. A few times he’s caught her peeking at it, no doubt a million questions swirling behind those wide eyes of hers, but those are questions she has kept to herself. He wouldn’t blame her if she did ask, though— or if she was terrified.

“Alright,” his eyes flick back to her face, meeting her determined stare and avoiding the way his chest lightens, “deal.”

He nods.

“But—”

Oh no.

“You have to ask me things too. It’s only fair— that way we both know things about each other.”

It’s only fair. He doesn’t know what to say. Again. It seems that every time he feels like he’s beginning to figure her out he gets shoved on his ass. Literally— he is quite literally on his ass right now. All because of what? A little girl? A little girl with small hands and a stare worse than his?

A little girl who thinks he of all people deserves fair. He knew life was cruel but this is worse— this is evil.

“Ask away.”

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

“Wait, wait, wait— you can’t be serious!”

Her giggles sound more like music than laughter to him. Usually he hates music— the newer stuff at least, maybe Wilson was right; maybe he is an old man— but this is bearable. This is mesmerizing.

He glances up at her from over his shoulder, fighting the same smile that’s been threatening his lips for the better part of two hours now. He isn’t sure why exactly he does it. Maybe because he knows it would be nothing compared to hers. Maybe it’s because it doesn’t deserve to be compared to hers. He isn’t a religious man but it feels blasphemous to even suggest he could exist with a margin of the sanctity she exudes. He’s committed many sins— that he can say with certainty— but to propose that he is the same as her would be the worst one of all.

Of course, that doesn’t stop him from soaking up every pious laugh into his wicked skull— he isn’t a perfect man, after all.

“Deadly serious. Steve was pissed at me for weeks. How was I supposed to know she had a husband?” He is rewarded with more giggles, ones that set his chest on fire.

Is that what happens when demons spend too much time around angels— they start to burn?

She pulls the blanket she acquired around an hour ago over her face, muffling her laughter much to his dismay. “You could have asked her!”

Bucky lifts a shoulder before letting it flop back down again. “You’re right.”

This is how it has gone since he proposed she ask him questions. She asks him her question— usually something light and easy— favourite color, favorite food, what was the last thing he bought. That one threw him for a loop but he answered anyway— Chinese food. She had giggled at that. You don’t seem like a Chinese food kind of guy. She’s not wrong. That is usually what she does after the questions, though— giggles. Giggles and teases him. Tortures him. Same thing. He doesn’t even think she knows what she’s doing.

Then, of course, he asks her questions of his own. They’re pretty much the same— favorite animal, middle name, what Passadena is like. Warm and busy. That was her answer— he’s never been to SoCal so who’s to say whether or not she was telling the truth. He really doesn’t care. He was more paying attention to the timbre of her voice— the way she makes normal words sound important. He didn’t know he could be so enthralled listening to someone talk about a cat named mittens.

For the first hour or so it was questions like that. The easy, no commitment kind. He wouldn’t have minded if they had stayed like that but, as he kept answering, she had grown more and more confident. Honestly, he didn’t mind that either. It was interesting to watch as she became comfortable around him. Well, more comfortable than before— more comfortable than he would have thought she could be around a guy like him. Her knees eventually pushed out of that hoodie and she relaxed into the couch. It was strange— completely and utterly strange.

By the second hour she had braved the first of many hard questions. It wasn’t what he thought it would be— still nothing about his arm— it was nothing close to that, actually.

It was about his mother.

Maybe it wasn’t supposed to be a hard question but it was, unexpectedly so. His mother. He hasn’t thought about his mother in years. Longer. Decades. He wasn’t expecting to feel so guilty about it but there he was, feeling like his throat was being crushed, while describing to the tiny, lovely girl— who has just lost her own mother— his mother’s lily of the valley perfume. He assumed that’s why she asked— because she misses her mother. He doesn’t blame her. He just never thought that he would miss his mother, too, today.

The rest weren’t as bad as that one. They still made his jaw ache, sure, but not like that. The ones about Steve were the only ones remotely comparable. How did you meet him? What was he like? What’s your favourite story with him in it? That was the last question— the one that made her giggle herself into a half hanging, half sprawling position over the arm of the couch— the position she is currently in right now.

He doctored the answers a little bit— he figured now isn’t the right time to tell her he’s pushing a hundred and ten— but he kept the good parts. Like how Steve and he had run through the streets of Brooklyn that night— Steve without a shirt and him in nothing but a pair of boxers that he is pretty sure to this day had belonged to her husband— being chased by the New York police. Good times.

“What, erm, what was her name?” Her voice is extra gentle— airy.

She’s nervous or maybe out of breath. He can’t quite tell, she’s too flopped over to get a proper look. She’s breathtaking either way.

All of a sudden it’s extra hard to fight back his smile. “I thought it was my turn to ask a question.”

Sitting up, she pools back into her seat. She scrunches her nose at him but doesn’t object. He can see that she wants to, though. Her eyes hide nothing. Then again he’s been trained to read people— to see the minute tick of her jaw and the invisible pulsing of her pupils. Invisible to anyone but him. Invisible to anyone who isn’t a monster— the big, bad wolf. His borderline smile dies quickly and he can’t bring himself to search for it again. This is how it should be.

Bucky clears his throat, mulling over what to ask her next. His eyes drift over the tan hoodie, the frays on the cuffs and the fact that there are no strings, and, like that, he has an idea.

“What’s the deal with that hoodie?” He tries to make it casual but he really does want to know— it’s like four sizes too big, there has to be a story.

He tries to make it casual but she still sobers. Like her hands receding once more into the cuffs of her sweater, the last remnants of the giggly girl fade from his line of sight. He chases it as far as he can, watching as her fingers disappear completely and lingering just in case it’s only a fluke. But no, they don’t come back, and he wishes he could disappear with them.

“It was—” her tongue pokes out, swiping against her pink lip and making it shine— “it was my dad’s. He, uh, he went to Caltech too. Was part of their alumni.”

The super soldier nods, pulling his legs up as well, hoping that by copying her she’ll see it as a signal to keep going. He doesn’t want to speak over her and accidentally derail her thoughts. He wants to know about her dad— her whole family actually. Whatever is important to her, like the hoodie.

“We used to go to these big alumni dinners and he would talk at them. Families like us were invited I guess— like a thank you of sorts.” Her eyes take on a faraway look, still latched on his but glassy and distant, no longer actually seeing him. It’s a look he understands too well. “One time he pulled me on stage with him. I think maybe I was thirteen? He said—” she stops, swallowing so hard her throat bobs, and he has to shove his hand under his leg to keep from reaching out— “ah, I’m sorry. He said ‘this girl right here— this is my daughter! If you think I’m good at what I do then you should see her. She’s something I tell you— Gonna be the best this school has ever seen!’”

His chest tightens— not necessarily from her story but from the way her voice cracks, her soft tone becoming scratchy. She swallows again and he hates it. He hates that he can see tears ready to fall and he hates that she’s even here with him under these circumstances.

He hates that he’s still grateful to be here anyway, being the person who she tells her story to.

“Was he right?” He knows it isn’t his question but he has to say something— anything— to make this better. He has no idea if this is it but it’s worth a shot.

Her brows push together, her head tilting slightly to the side, much too elegantly to be normal— are all women this pretty or is it just her? She blinks, clearing some of the mist, eyes drawing over his face. She traces across his brows, down his nose, stopping on his lips for a pulse— like tracing out the rhythm to a song only she can discern. Everything she does is like music. It must just be her.

“What?” She doesn’t say it rudely; she says it like she didn’t hear him— like she was too far lost in the wonderland of her memory to hear anything— and his chest tightens even further.

“You said your father told everyone you were going to be the best— were you?”

He doesn’t take his eyes off of her, slowing his words and waiting for the recognition to creep in. It takes a moment but it does, the last of the glass evaporating into something else.

“I, uhm, I don’t know—”

“You do.” He presses— he can hear the edge of that something in her tone. The downplay is scribed over her feature— lowered eyes, flat mouth, trembling fingers— she wants to say something.

“What do you even know?”

About anything going on in my head— yeah, that’s not familiar at all.

Bucky doesn’t flinch when she hisses the words at him— partly because, despite the clear ice in her words, he doubts they came out as hard as she was hoping they would. Her voice isn’t made to sound wretched. He knows she could tell him the filthiest things— tear him down to the last peg, spit his name out like a curse— and she would still sound like an angel. That makes her dangerous— or at least it would if she didn’t already have tears welling up in those big eyes of hers again.

He flicks a brow, letting one corner of his mouth tick up, telling himself that it’s only for her peace of mind— to let her know that he isn’t angry at her. That he gets it. That sometimes he feels so fucking confused and hurt and scared that he, too, wants to hiss at people because at least then they leave him alone. Yeah, it’s only for her peace of mind.

“Try slamming the ‘you’ harder next time—” he draws the word out, exaggerating the motion while keeping his features a mixture of schooled and relaxed— “usually works out better.”

Her hands— which have been tangling over the collar of her hoodie— drop into her lap with a thunk, her eyes rolling. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome— but you never answered.”

She shoots him a deadpan stare— well, sort of. She never actually stopped looking at him so her face just morphes from vexed to blank. So far it’s his least favourite expression— he would rather she just got angry. He’d rather see fire— or ice— than nothing.

“I thought it was my turn?” Doesn’t she know that the more she avoids the question, the more he wants to know the answer?

Bucky doesn’t let up— he will if she actually tells him to drop it but she hasn’t and he doubts she will— she’s too determined to win. “Consider it payment for your extra questions.”

He holds her gaze still, waiting for the moment she folds. It takes longer than he expects it would, sitting in silence with her eyes on him for almost three minutes. He almost breaks around two and a half minutes. The girl has a way of looking at him like she can see right into his head. Still, he holds, waiting, waiting, waiting until finally— there it is!

Light a light shining in the darkness, her mouth pulls into a merciful smile— well, if mercy means the coy glint in her eye, that is. “I was the best.”

The super soldier nods, finally letting his gaze drop. He doesn’t say anything— he doesn’t have to. His point has already been made. He never wanted to be right. He just wanted her to say it. Not for him but for herself. He doesn’t let himself mull over what that says about him. Nothing good. That’s the only answer. It says nothing good about him, the lengths he’s already willing to go to keep this soft, icy girl safe. Him, a monster. It only tells him that he’s selfish— but he already knew that. Those are thoughts for another time.

“Your turn.” He reminds her, leaning back against the arm of the couch, all but aware of the foot of space between his head and her hand which is scratching over the leather behind him.

There is no pause this time— no beat, moment, or minute. Just like that she’s back, moving on to the next topic, almost as though she has had the question queued for ages now, dying to know the answer. He supposes it’s only fair— she let him ask his questions.

“What was her name?”

Her voice lacks the airy note it had held the last time she asked, clearly over waiting, and he has to turn to the window to hide the way he finally cracks, his lips sloping up in a grin that’s both too alien and too familiar. It tastes too much like the old days— like peach schnapps and movie theatre popcorn. She’s not ready for that. He knows because he isn’t.

“Delores.”

_______________

Tag List: @xhollycowx @remembered-license @dumble-daddy @hellotvshowtrash @thesummerbucky (if i missed anyone I am so sorry please shoot me a message and I’ll fix it)

[tchallasbabymama]

All For Us Chapter 5

Hey y’all, hope you enjoy the chapter a day early! Check out my masterlist to catch up on this story or read my other ones. And, as always, reblogs and comments are more than welcome 🥰

Word Count: 5,471

CW: Mention of self-harm

Erik fidgeted in his chair as he waited for his family to walk through the door. He had seen each of them individually at least once, Shuri being the only one who never came back, but something about seeing them all together had him on edge. His right leg couldn’t stop bouncing, and he tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair impatiently. 

“Don’t worry, the Udakus are never on time,” Naomi reassured him as he looked to the clock for the second time in the last minute. Their appointment started five minutes ago.

“They run on CP time, huh?” he joked, trying to distract himself from his nerves. 

“CP time?”

“Colored people time...the name’s dated as hell, but basically Black people ain’t ever on time.”

“That is true of Wakanda as well,” she laughed. “Time is more of a suggestion here.”

“I can fuck with it,” he chuckled but was cut short by the thumping in his chest as the door opened, and T’Challa walked in, holding the door for the rest of the family.

“Your highnesses,” Naomi saluted them. “Please, come in and make yourselves comfortable.”

Naomi had arranged the chairs in her office so that the six of them sat in a circle. Mira sat between Erik and Ramonda, and Shuri chose the seat closest to Naomi. T’Challa sat between his mother and sister and threw a smile Erik’s way.

“Thank you all for coming here today. It is imperative that Erik has a healthy support system when he leaves here, and I just wanted to make sure we are all on the same page. I know you have each met with him individually, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to get it all out there and move forward as a unit. Now, I know we all want what’s best for Erik-”

Shuri scoffed, and Naomi turned to her.

“Princess, I heard you still have some reservations about him. Why?”

“He killed my brother,” she seethed.

“Shuri, I am right here,” T’Challa said, exasperated at her unwillingness to see past her anger.

“By the grace of Bast!”

“Shuri,” Ramonda chided.

“Queen Mother, if you don’t mind, I think this is a conversation that needs to happen between these two.”

Ramonda nodded and gestured for Shuri to continue.

“You’re only here because Nakia snatched a heart-shaped herb before he burnt the rest of them to the ground. It’s taken this long for them to even start growing again. All he does is destroy, and I don’t want him here. It’s bad enough you made me heal him, but now I have to look at him every day and pretend to like him, too?”

“You don’t have to like him, Shuri, but he is family-”

“That didn’t mean anything when he threw you over the falls or when he almost killed me, so why should it matter now?”

“Because I’m not that same person anymore,” Erik jumped in.

“Oh, sure. You’re just magically better all of a sudden,” she rolled her eyes and turned back to her brother. “How am I supposed to sleep at night knowing he’s in the palace?”

“Princess Shuri, Erik has been working very hard to overcome his anger and his past traumas. So much so that I see no need to extend his stay past what we originally agreed on.”

“Wait, really?” Erik’s face brightened, and he turned in his seat to look at Naomi.

“Yes. You have shown remarkable improvement, Erik.”

“You mean he can come home soon?” Queen Mother asked, prompting Erik and Shuri to feel very different ways about her use of the word “home.” Erik missed having one, and Shuri hated having him in hers.

“Yes, ma’am, he’ll be out of here in two weeks.”

Mira couldn’t contain her smile as she reached for his hand. They locked eyes, and yet again, the look in his eyes needed no words. They were glassy as they swelled with tears, and a couple fell while Naomi handed him the tissue box.

“What’s wrong, dear?” Ramonda asked.

“My bad,” he sniffled as he dried his tears. “I just really want to see Cupcake.”

“She wants to see you, too. I told her you were sick and had to get better before she could, but she’s been asking me about you damn near every second.”

“And me, as well. She is excited to meet you, cousin,” T’Challa chimed in. “‘Do you think daddy will like this?’, ‘When is he coming home?’, ‘Is daddy still sick?’, ‘Can you tell daddy I love him?’”

“Or my personal favorite, ‘Can we bring some to daddy?’ after dinner last night,” Ramonda added.

“She’s still a daddy’s girl, through and through,” Mira said with a sarcastic eye-roll, making Naomi chuckle.

“Yes, mine is the same way. It is quite frustrating,” she joked. “Now, I think it would be beneficial for us to go around the room and get it all out on the table. Princess Shuri already went, unless you have more to say…”

“No.”

“Ok, then King T’Challa, how about you go next?”

He nodded and looked to his cousin.

“I do not think I have said this to you yet, but I am genuinely sorry, Erik-”

“Stop, you didn’t do anything.”

“I know, but I needed to say it. I am also sorry I disobeyed your wishes; that was something I should not have done.”

“I’ll say,” Shuri mumbled under her breath.

“But I am glad that I did. Otherwise, we would not get to see this other side of you.”

“Thanks, man. I was in a bad place, obviously, and, uh...I don’t know, I just felt like a failure...I felt like I had nothing to live for anymore...my pride was hurt.”

Mira slowly pulled her hand back and placed it in her lap, and Erik could feel the tension brewing beneath the surface.

“Anything else, my king?”

“Just that I hope we can move past all of this and build a relationship. You are my cousin, and I am determined to love you whether you want me to or not.”

Erik and Mira both smirked at the king. They were thankful for the kindhearted man and his insistence on cleaning up the bad blood in his family. 

“Queen Mother, do you have anything you would like to share?”

“Yes, actually,” she reached into her bag and pulled out something that had been gift-wrapped. She handed it to Erik, and he looked at her in confusion. “Go ahead, open it.”

Everyone looked on with intrigue as he ripped at the paper, revealing a gold picture frame. Erik flipped the frame over and a lump formed in his throat.

“This is from a gala for the Pan African Council in 1991. It was one of the two times I met him.”

Drops of water splashed on the picture of N’Jobu, and Erik looked up for a leak in the ceiling before he realized the tears were flowing from his eyes. He grabbed another tissue and passed the box around when he realized the others were getting misty-eyed as well. Even Shuri. 

“I, uh...I don’t know what to say...thank you, Auntie,” he croaked as he got up and pulled her into a hug. Mira took the opportunity to take a look at the picture. They had the same look in their eyes, but feature-wise, Erik had to have taken after his mother. There was no doubt about it though, those deep brown puppy dog Udaku eyes were front and center.

Erik sat down, and she handed the photo back to him.

“May I see?” T’Challa asked, and Erik passed it to him, watching as Shuri took a look over his shoulder to see it too. Her face softened a little more, and Erik could swear she saw a hint of sadness there. He passed it back, and Erik simply stared at the photo, fingers lightly caressing the fame.

“Alright, lastly, we have Mira. Anything to add?”

“Not really,” she shook her head.

“Well, then may I ask you a question?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“Earlier, you seemed upset when Erik mentioned not having anything to live for. Care to expand on that?”

“Not really.”

“Mira...you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then how did you mean it, Erik? You said you have nothing to live for, yet your daughter and I were sitting at home waiting for you.”

“I wasn’t in my right mind, Mira. All that mattered was the mission. I lost myself to it. Actually, I lost myself a long time ago, but at the time, nothing could’ve pulled me back...not even you or Imani.”

“What if it happens again. Not for this, but for something else? What if you start working again and go back to your old ways? What then?”

“I won’t.”

“How am I supposed to trust that, Erik?”

“Mira, I’d like to jump in if you don’t mind.”

Mira shook her head and gestured for Naomi to continue.

“I understand your hesitance, but I assure you, I have the utmost faith that Erik has changed. His behaviors were tied to his trauma, and we have been able to work through his feelings of grief, anger, guilt, and self-loathing.”

“Self-loathing?” Queen Mother asked.

“Erik, would you care to…”

“Yeah, sure,” he cleared his throat. “I, uh, sort of hated myself for a long time. Everybody I loved died, and I had some sort of...what did you call it?”

“Survivor’s remorse.”

“Yeah, survivor’s remorse. I felt guilty for not dying.”

Mira looked up at him and her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to keep the tears at bay.

“Then I felt guilty for all the shit I did to survive, and how violent I became...then the self-hate kicked in when I realized how good I was at it.” His fingers ran over the scars on his forearm, and he took a deep breath. “These aren’t trophies. They’re my sins.”

The room fell silent.

“How many?” Shuri asked tentatively.

“You don’t wanna know.”

“I do,” Mira chimed in. “I’ve tried counting them, but you’re such a light sleeper it’s impossible. I can guess though...I got to five hundred once before you woke up one morning.”

“I don’t want you to look at me differently-”

“Erik, you don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to, but nobody here will look at you any differently if you do. Right?”

Everyone agreed, even Shuri. 

Erik took a deep breath and hung his head before speaking, “Three thousand and nine scars...three thousand and nine people are dead because of me.”

“You’re not that person anymore, Erik,” Naomi reminded him.

“Yeah, but what if I am?”

“You’re not,” Mira reached for his hand again.

“How do you know?”

“Cousin, I can guarantee you that even in the short time we have known each other, you have changed.”

“Erik, you should trust yourself more. You’ve been given the tools you need; you just have to use them.”

He nodded slowly, taking in Naomi’s wise words.

“It also helps if you’re surrounded by people who love and support you.” She turned to Shuri, “Princess, let us work through your feelings.”

“I already said what I needed to say. I don’t trust him...but I’m not saying it’ll be like that forever. Just for now, I still don’t.”

“And why is that?”

“Have you ever had someone try to kill you?”

“No, I can’t say that I have.”

“You never forget the look in their eyes.”

“I understand you, sister. It is not an easy thing to get past...however, it is possible. Look at him now. Do you see those same eyes?”

Erik looked at Shuri, and her stone face softened a little but still stayed pretty wooden.

“No.”

“Look, I get it...I’m your T’Chaka, but I don’t wanna be that person anymore. Not to Mira, not to Imani, not to y’all-”

“Don’t forget yourself. You’re doing this for you, too,” Mira chimed in, and Erik nodded.

“We are still working on self-love, but I feel that the next two weeks will be fruitful,” Naomi said, closing her notebook. “Is there anything else you all need to get off your chests?”

“I have one more thing,” Mira said as she sat up in her chair and turned her body to face Erik.

“I never told you what happened after you left,” she said, trying to keep it together. “I, um...I got depressed again, like when Imani was born. It wasn’t pretty, but I made sure she was good. I couldn’t eat. All I wanted to do was sleep. It got so bad I had to quit my job and go live with Stefan and Havana. I know that’s what you suggested in the first place, but I thought I could handle it on my own. I’m basically a stay-at-home mom now; I take care of the kids while Stef and Ana are at work...cooking and cleaning, and all that jazz. I never thought I would like that life, but it’s nice, and it’s a good way to repay them for letting us stay there. You wouldn’t believe how big SJ is now, and they have a new baby Daveed...things are different now, but it’s nice.”

“Have you...are you seeing anybody?”

“No, but I tried dating...didn’t work out.”

Erik tried and failed to hide the smirk on his face.

“I can’t say I’m sorry about that, but I am sorry about what I put you through, Mira. I shouldn’t have left you two.”

“I know you know that now; I just wish you knew it then.”

He pulled her hand to his lips for a kiss, and she let him.

“Are we still separated?”

Both Ramonda and T’Challa’s eyebrows raised. Neither of them was aware that the two had been having marital problems. T’Challa never even thought to ask.

“Erik, I need to tell you something…”

His breath hitched in his throat.

“I’m not saying it’s what I want now...but I was going to serve you with divorce papers. I had them drawn up and everything. They just needed your signature, but I couldn’t bring myself to give them to you. I was going to give them to you when you came back...if you came back.”

“And now?”

“Now...I don’t know, Erik. I think I have to get to know this new you to decide.”

“That’s fair.” He said to the ground before lifting his head and looking Mira in her eyes. “I’m gonna make you want to marry me all over again, though. Watch.”

--------

“If you don’t sit still, you’re going just like this,” Mira fussed as she tried to braid Imani’s hair. 

“No, I’ll stop!” Imani tried her best not to move, but the pillow she was sitting on was starting to get uncomfortable, and she was getting antsy. Every second that passed brought her one step closer to meeting her daddy, and she couldn’t wait. All she had to do was get through the school day. 

Mira smirked and tilted Imani’s head to the side to start on the last braid right as Shuri walked into the living room and plopped in the chair across from them. 

“Rough night?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Over the past two weeks, Shuri had been slowly opening up to the idea of Erik living in the palace, but when she closed her eyes at night, she just kept seeing him lurking over her bed, ready to strike. 

“Something on your mind?” Mira asked through gritted teeth that held a tiny black rubber band.

“No, just...apprehensive.”

“About Erik?” Mira mouthed to her so Imani couldn’t hear. Shuri nodded and sunk deeper into the chair with a sigh. Mira finished up Imani’s last braid and put a couple of beads on the end before kissing the top of her head. “Ok, you’re done. Can you go get dressed?”

“Ok, mommy!” Imani took off, but before Mira could tell her to slow down, T’Challa came around the corner and scooped her up, planting a kiss on her cheek. Imani’s giggles erupted throughout the expansive living area and forced Shuri to crack a smile.

“Why are you running in my palace?” he playfully chastised her.

“I’m happy I get to meet my daddy. If I put my school clothes on fast, it’ll happen faster!”

“Well, let’s make it even faster then!” T’Challa took off with her down the hall, leaving Shuri and Mira in the living room laughing at his shenanigans.

“When is he gonna have one of his own?”

Shuri’s eyes rolled all the way to the back of her head. “As soon as he stops chasing after a woman who wants to live on the other side of the planet.”

“Nakia still giving him the runaround?”

“Girl, you don’t know the half of it,” Shuri complained. “Maybe you or Erik can talk some sense into him.”

“Maybe...you seem to be warming up to the idea of him lately. How are you feeling?”

Shuri sighed and sat forward in her chair, resting her elbows on her thighs. “I won’t lie and say I’m thrilled, but I understand him better now, and I trust my brother’s judgment. And mama’s. And yours...I want him to be in Imani’s life, but it is just hard to forget his face in that moment, you know?”

Mira nodded, “I don’t, but I do.”

“Maybe seeing him in a new light with you and Imani will help,” Shuri shrugged.

“I hope so.”

“Me, too.” 

Just then, T’Challa re-entered the room, “The princess is having trouble deciding which outfit to wear.”

“That’s my queue,” Mira got up from the couch and washed off her greasy hands before strolling down the hallway to help out her little fashionista. She and T’Challa had already laid out three outfit choices, so it just came down to which one she thought her daddy would like best.

“I want to look nice to meet him, but I don’t know which one looks better.”

“Can I give a suggestion?”

“Mhm,” Imani nodded with her brows creased as she thought really hard over which outfit to pick.

“How about the gold sandals from Lala with this two-piece? Yellow looks good on you, and the sandals match your backpack. You’ll look like a little ray of sunshine.”

“Hmmm...Ok!”

“Glad I could help,” Mira chuckled.

“I’ll wear my yellow outfit if you wear your blue one just like it.”

“It’s a deal,” Mira threw over her shoulder as she left the room to go change. When she entered the living room, her cousins and Auntie all smiled at the two of them. Imani’s yellow Ankara print tube top and harem pants matched perfectly with Mira’s blue ones. The only difference was Mira had on some crisp white sneakers and big gold Fulani earrings. 

Mira walked Imani to school the same way she did every day, but this time her head was in the clouds. Even Imani was quiet on the way, the butterflies in both of their stomachs working overtime. When they reached the classroom, Imani turned to her mom, looking at her face that surprised Mira.

“What’s wrong, baby?” She crouched down to her level.

“What if daddy doesn’t like me?” she poked her lip out, and Mira knew she had to act fast before it started quivering, and the tears started falling.

“Like you? He loves you more than anything in this world!” she said excitedly while tickling Imani’s ribs and making her laugh. “He loves you just as much as I do, baby girl.”

“He does?”

“Of course, you’re his Cupcake.”

“Cupcake?”

“Mhm, that’s what he used to call you because you’re so sweet.” Mira pretended to gobble up Imani’s fingers, making her giggles chase away any doubts she had about her father. “Now, you  ready for school?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she said excitedly.

“Alright, I’ll see you at 2. Be good.” Mira kissed Imani’s cheek and stood back up to her full height.

“I will, mommy. Sala kakuhle!” she waved goodbye and ran to go play with her friends while Mira sent the teacher a smile before heading back to the palace. 

When Mira was nervous, she liked to busy her hands with something, so she took some time to anxiously clean and organize her already clean quarters. She would have to sit in on another council meeting shortly, and although she wasn’t looking forward to having all that attention on her again, she was determined to go in there with her head held high.

Just as she started scrubbing the sink, her alarm went off telling her it was time for the meeting. She washed her hands and squeezed lemon juice on them to get rid of the bleach smell before leaving her quarters and traveling to the business side of the palace. When Mira entered the throne room, she slid into the empty seat between Ramonda and Shuri just as T’Challa started speaking.

“As you all know, Erik will be discharged from Ithemba Center today at noon, and we have the press conference scheduled at five. He has already been briefed on it, and while he is still apprehensive about addressing the nation, I have worked with him over the last week and it seems as though he will be fine. Any questions regarding the press conference?” The council members shook their heads and T’Challa continued, “Now, I have spoken to each of you about his community service, and have finally decided on the order. I would like him to start with the Jabari as a member of their fire and rescue team, then transfer to mining vibranium before moving to border patrols. Then he will work at the River tribe’s animal sanctuary, and he’ll end his service by working as janitorial staff in the market. The order is subject to change if necessary.”

“My king, are we sure we can trust him in the Mining and Border provinces?” Tendayi, the River tribe elder spoke out, making Dama and W’Dani nod along.

“Yes, I have faith in him. Any other questions?”

Mira tentatively raised her hand, not sure if she was allowed to talk or not. T’Challa nodded her way, and she cleared her throat before speaking, “I was wondering if we could move with him? He’s been away from Imani so long and once he comes back, I don’t want to disrupt her life any more than it’s already been disrupted.”

“That is understandable. Housing for the three of you will be provided in each province.”

“Thank you,” she turned to the elders, “and I don’t want to be a freeloader, so if there’s anywhere I can help out just let me know.”

“Mira, of course you and Imani are welcome to stay with us, but if you really want something to do we can find a job for you, too.” Ife stated as the other council members nodded along in agreement. 

“I’d like that. I need something to do,” she chuckled. “Thank you.”

“We will work something out,” Dama winked her way.

“We will miss the two of you around the palace, but I think that is a great idea. You will be provided with transportation to get Imani to school.”

“Thank you,” Mira smiled.

“You are welcome. Now, is there anything else?” T’Challa was met with silence as he checked the time on his beads and looked back at Mira. “Good, it is about time we go bring him home.”

Mira’s heart thumped in her chest as she nodded.

“Meeting adjourned.”

The council members filed out of the room, sending well-wishes to Mira as they went. 

--------

Erik happily signed his discharge paperwork, but his internal celebration was cut short by a knock at his door. He half expected it to be Mira, but he looked up and saw Naomi in his doorway. 

“How are you feeling today?”

“Excited and nervous.”

“I bet,” she chuckled. “Remember what we talked about, and you will be fine.”

Erik nodded and took a deep breath.

“Ready to go? I will walk you out.”

“Yeah, let’s go.” Erik took a deep breath and they walked through the facility in silence before they reached the lobby. There stood T’Challa and Mira with huge smiles on their faces that infected Erik as soon as he saw them. Mira pulled him into a hug and held him tight as she rocked him from side to side.

“I’m so proud of you, Erik.”

“As am I, cousin.”

Mira let Erik go and he dapped T’Challa up, pulling him into a hug next.

“Thanks. Both of you...I couldn’t have done all this without you.”

Mira wiped a stray tear from her eye and looped her arm around his. “Let’s go home.”

“Home, huh? I like the sound of that,” he mused.

The three of them made their way back to the palace where they were greeted by a tearful Ramonda and a still apprehensive Shuri. She sent him a small smile, though, and that was enough for him. The family sat around the kitchen table talking and laughing as if it had always been that way, and Erik found their familiarity to be a comfort he hadn’t felt in a long time. Ramonda constantly pushed food in Erik’s direction, and even though he had a late breakfast he just couldn’t say no. He stuffed his face full of eggah and freshly squeezed mango juice until he had his fill and sat back in his chair with his hands resting on his full stomach.

“I’m ready for a nap. Where am I staying?”

“This week you will be in the palace, as well as during your time working for the Merchant tribe-”

“You’re gonna hate it…” Mira sang under her breath with a wry laugh, making T’Challa smirk.

“But, other than that, you will be staying with the various tribes during your volunteer time.”

“What exactly am I supposed to be doing?” he sent a suspicious look Mira’s way.

“We can discuss that later. For now, let us get you settled in.”

Erik nodded and followed behind Mira and T’Challa as they walked through the winding palace hallways. They took him to his living quarters, and he was pleasantly surprised to see that he would still be living with Mira and Imani.

“I didn’t know if you’d want me with you or not.”

“Oh, you’re sleeping in the guest room...but I wanted you close for Imani.”

“Fair enough,” Erik nodded and walked around the space, checking it out.

“I will leave you two alone to get settled in,” T’Challa turned and left the space.

Mira looked at her beads. “You might want to go ahead and get ready, we’ll be leaving in thirty minutes.

“Leaving?”

“Mhm, we have to pick up Imani from school.”

“W-we do?”

“Yeah...are you ok?”

“Nah. What if she doesn’t like me?”

Mira bursted out laughing and caught him off-guard. “She asked me the same thing this morning.”

Erik just smiled and shook his head. He had nothing to worry about.

“Just like her daddy, huh?”

“Just like him,” she smiled back.

“I guess I should get ready, then. I want to make a good first impression.”

“Erik, you’ll be fine…I promise. She already loves you.”

He stood and kissed her forehead before turning and walking towards the bathroom, pulling his shirt over his head. Mira tried to avert her eyes, but his rippling back muscles called to her. Her face felt hot, and she bolted out of the room, hoping he didn’t notice how flustered he made her.

He did.

A little while later, Erik emerged from the bathroom very well moisturized and followed by a cloud of steam. He stood there for a few minutes in his towel, staring at the clothes in his huge closet, not knowing what to put on his body.

“Mira!” he called to her in the other room. She playfully rolled her eyes and headed his way, already knowing what he wanted. Like father, like daughter.

“You rang?” she stood in the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest, trying like hell to keep her eyes above his collarbone. 

“I don’t know what to wear.”

“Wakandan or American?”

“Uh, American, I guess.”

“Do you want to match Imani?”

His face lit up, and she took it for a yes, pulling out a pastel yellow t-shirt and a pair of jeans with matching sneakers. 

“This outfit with gold accessories.”

“Thanks,” he grinned at her, and Mira tried not to get lost in his dimples. She was failing miserably, so she left him to his own devices. She missed the satisfied smirk on his face.

--------

Erik could feel the eyes on him as he walked through the city with Mira and T’Challa. Some were cold, but most were simply confused by his presence. 

“Ignore them,” Mira whispered up to him, and he nodded, taking a deep breath. He wasn’t going to let anything ruin this moment. 

They arrived at the elementary school and Mira went in to get Imani while the two men waited outside. As soon as Imani saw her mother, she jumped down and ran over to her.

“Hey baby girl, how was your day?”

“Good! I made a new friend,” she said proudly.

“You did? I’ll have to meet them sometime soon. Right now we have to go see daddy,” Mira’s eyes flashed with mischief and Imani’s joy radiated throughout the room. “Ready?”

Imani was so happy she could barely speak, so she just nodded her head. Mira waved goodbye to the teacher, and the two of them traveled back down the hallway hand in hand.

Erik’s fingers tapped his thigh in rapid succession and he chewed on his bottom lip.

“I can hear you overthinking, cousin.”

Erik started pacing back and forth and was about to open his mouth to say something when the doors to the school swished open. T’Challa held his hand up and started recording with his beads.

“Daddy!” Imani saw Erik and dropped her backpack as she ran to him. For a moment, he was frozen in time, but as she got closer he snapped out of it and crouched down for her to run into his arms.

“Hey, Cupcake,” his voice cracked as he held her tight. Her little arms wrapped around his neck like she never wanted to let him go, and he couldn’t help the tears that streamed from his eyes. Mira and T’Challa tried their best to hold it together, but neither could blink the tears away.

“What’s wrong?” Imani heard him sniffle and pulled back to look at his face.

“Nothing, baby, I’m just happy to see you.” He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer to Bast to thank her for letting him live another day to see his daughter once more.

The four of them walked back to the palace with Imani talking Erik’s ear off the whole way as he carried her on his hip. The first thing she did when they got there was to show him her dolls, all of which were fully decked out in the most beautiful doll-sized finery T’Challa could get his hands on. Erik took in the sparkly purple walls and the finger paints by an easel in the corner of the room. Her canopy bed was the main attraction, though, and made her feel the princess she was.

“Damn, T did all this?” Erik asked as Mira entered the room behind him.

“Yep,” she laughed. “He’d do anything for that little girl.”

“Remind me to thank him later…” he trailed off as his eyes caught sight of an enormous, stuffed jaguar by the window seat. A goofy smile took over his face, and Mira couldn’t help but swoon. Over the past few weeks of her getting to see Erik at Ithemba, she could tell his spirit was lighter. However, it wasn’t until the three of them were sitting in Imani’s room playing with her dolls that she thought Erik actually looked happy. And not just happy, but happier than she had ever seen him. His smiles actually reached his eyes for the first time since before he left for Wakanda, and she loved to watch the two of them interact with each other. Erik was a gentle giant when it came to his baby girl, and all his fierceness flew out the window when Imani started popping butterfly clips in his locs. 

Erik noticed Mira was lost in her thoughts, so he reached over and grabbed her hand. He squeezed it and looked into her eyes, once again conveying his soul with a single look. 

He was home for good this time. Next Chapter

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