Here, kitty, kitty

I'm putting them up here together and will add if anyone ever dares comment again *g*
So, the first one is for

Insane_songbird (my muse, my drive, my write-mate) - she requested Ghostfacer!Harry/Meg
well, here you go babe, I hope this is up to your expectations

#1

Ghost facer!Harry/Meg

 

Harry was a fairly simple, light-weight guy. The first led to him needing to get away from Ed and his world of philosophical musings sometimes, the second led to him being trashed within an inch of his life after two beers. Oh, and that tequila shot that this hot blonde chick who really had no business being interested in him (he had a geek factor to uphold after all) had gotten down his throat in no time after she'd ordered it. She had an arm thrown around him and was whining about the plight of meeting some guys who had seriously whacked her party.

„Well... I'm sure... next time – if you don't *hick* invite them - it's going to be a killer party.“

She looked at him mischievously and planted a huge smack on his cheek.

„I should hope so! Thanks for improving my mood, buddy, next time's gonna be a party killer!“

And this is for stangerine88, who got a bit of a tricky one in return *g* I hope you can feel the vibes....

#2

Sam/Castiel

 

The moment Dean had shouted out his name, Sam felt a current of excitement running through him. Finally, after so long, the embodiment of his belief stood before him... refusing to touch. But when he did, everything else faded away, Dean, the stranger, the disconcerting, patronizing words, life, apocalypse everything became a blur to the touch of these hands, warm, soft skin cradling his work worn ones, his soul reaching out for salvation. This was his chance, his moment to prove himself worthy of faith and worthy of saving. And from the tiny, inconspicuous tingle spreading out from that careful, reverent touch, Sam knew that everything would be alright.

So, this one's for scorp76, I hope it humours you....

#3

Victor Hendrickson/Yellow-eyed-Andy

 

Andy ambled through the room, at least, he imagined himself to be ambling, since it was kinda difficult to get a grip when you were kind of bodiless and looking down to the happenings on earth through a cloudy haze. Perception also seemed a bit skewered round here, but he was used to it anyway. The veil lifted a bit and one of the fuzzy shapes slowly turned into the silhouette of a black man in the remnants of what used to be a sharp suit.

They exchanged a look.

“So... you also one of those collateral damages of the end game?”

“Yep.”

“Huh... lemme guess, you met the Winchesters.”

“Yep.”

“So... wanna fuck?”

“Y...WHAT? No?”

“Sorry man, just... your face. Seven kinds of awesome, dude.”