#coming at the end of spooktober

[mmoosen]

Round

no round but a lot of around

“Sometimes. I can predict death. My screaming is just one of my abilities besides my visions. Banshees have been around as long as werewolves, and this is where it might be personal… Nolan, Banshees have always been woman.”

[mamamittens]

Spoils of War +18

Spooktober day 3!

Fandom: One Piece (Sci-Fi Alien Invasion AU)

Ship: Alien!KaidoXF!ResistanceMember!Reader

Warnings: Dubious consent, power imbalance, a very tricked out alien dick, piercings, grinding, sexy high tech bath time, thigh fucking, size kink, dirty talk, name calling/degradation (mainly whore, slut, pet, and rat), some spanking, authority kink, monster fucking/teratophilia (he really counts as a monster in this one even if it’s closer to human on the spectrum lmao), creampie, marathon sex, face sitting, and oral sex (male and female receiving).

Word Count: 6,546

@bookandyarndragon (I added an extra K of words partially out of inspiration but mostly as an apology for the wait! Surprise!)

Ash clung to the air in a hazy mist, never truly settling but somehow coating every inch of the ruined city. How much of it was concrete dust, incinerated people, or regular fire refuse was unclear. You only knew that it got everywhere as you silently signaled to your crew to move cautiously. What was left of skyscrapers provided only modest cover as you moved through the area for abandoned supplies from a previous squad that had to evacuate in a hurry. The night sky—what could be seen at least—appeared clear with mild cloud cover.

Cautiously adjusting your mask, you stayed low and hoped the ash and low light of the night allowed your group to remain hidden. While there weren’t any reports of the invading aliens nearby, you hadn’t gotten this far by being cocky. Even with every advantage it was an absolute bitch managing to retreat. Forget defeating them… A gentle hand tapped your shoulder and you looked back.

Your younger sister tilted her head across the desolated street, keeping silent as you all agreed before sneaking into the city. Glancing over, you spotted the faint, glowing symbol of the resistance tagged on the side of the building. Huffing, you looked back and nodded at your sister with a concealed smile. Swiftly, you gave the signal and gestured to the building, your small team readying themselves.

So far so good…

After one last check on your equipment, you gave the signal and everyone moved silently across the street. You reached the busted door first, carefully testing the hinges before opening it quietly. Your sister took the lead, turning on a dim flashlight to make wide sweeps across the floor, following discreet symbols to where the previous team hide their supplies. Normally, this would be considered too dangerous, but resources were stretched thin.

No man, or backpack, could afford to be written off as a casualty of negligence anymore.

They found it in the basement, wedged clumsily behind a stack of empty crates that had been raided a long time ago. An incredibly generous stack of supply drop bags—far more than you were informed of, in fact…

If it was a trap—it was too late. The only thing left was to take as much as you could and go.

“It reeks down here.” You whispered through your mask, looking back at your team, “Grab what you can and leave. Don’t look back.”

Jolting into action, your team efficiently picked through the crates, stuffing their bags before leaving the building, quiet as a mouse. You and your sister were right behind them.

The streets were as oppressively quiet and dirty as before. The wind barely managing to lift up the ashy haze. But you were alert. Scanning the streets and what remained of the building tops. Nothing had gone off… there was barely any sound to be heard…

And you were almost certain that you were being watched.

You shoved your sister down as a beam of light shot through the air, narrowly missing the two of you.

“RUN!” You screamed, throwing down a few flash grenades to cover their escape.

Blindly, you grabbed your sister’s hand and started running for the desolated alleyways, hoping to lose your pursuers there. Cluttered with broken chunks of concrete and ruined equipment, it wasn’t quite the clean path you would have liked. Still, it was the only path you had, so the both of you ran at full speed.

Until your sister tripped.

“Ah!” You spun around, almost calling out to her—then froze.

A man—fucking hell that certainly wasn’t a human man at all!—stood over her. You thought your eyes must have been playing tricks on you. Sure, it was definitely an alien invader, but surely it wasn’t Him? But… it had to be. How many eight foot tall aliens were there with massive bull horns, an ‘x’ shaped scar on his torso, yellow eyes, and blue scales? The thin, tendril like moustache fell almost to his waist and seemed to twitch as he bared his fangs down at the both of you in a grimace.

“So the rats took the bait, did they?” Kaido, alien invasion leader asked in a raspy voice.

“It appears so, sir.” A thin voice declared from above. Sparing a quick glance, you only saw a vague shadow on top of the building. Whoever it was keeping well out of sight, though out of disinterest or a need to hide, you didn’t know.

“Hmph. And it seems we’ve finally caught the cleverest rat, too. With some other rat, but really, when they all clump together is there any difference?” Kaido mused before pulling a gun from the braided belt at his waist. You panicked, instantly looking for some way out as your sister crawled back, trying to stand up but failing.

There wasn’t much to lose at this point.

Kaido raised his gun and squeezed the trigger.

Your flashlight sailed through the air and smacked square into his face, the beam of light missing your precious sister by inches. Horrified, you quickly scrambled to pull your sister up and shove her behind you, the alien still seemingly flummoxed by your actions. Clearly, you didn’t do any damage to him. But at least you bought just a few more seconds that you didn’t have before.

Sometimes everything came down to those singular seconds.

The grimace twitched, a puff of air escaping between sharp canines.

And then, horrifyingly, Kaido smiled.

Not to be dramatic, but you think you would have preferred just being shot.

“Is everything alright, My King?” The voice called down, but his eyes never left you. They seemed to burn into you as that smile deepened. Like he was seeing a world of possibilities unfurling before him.

“…Perhaps rats can have their own uses.” Kaido muttered, lowering his gun with a confident smile. “Will I have to tie you up or will you come of your own free will?” he asked. You were terrified of what this could mean. What the hell could he need you for?! To check under his dresser for a lost button?!

“My King?!”

You glanced back at your terrified sister, her face obscured by the hazard mask but you could read her like an open book.

You squared your shoulders and looked back up at Kaido.

“If you let my sister go unharmed, you won’t need any restraints.” You declared, setting a firm stance like you could reinforce that decision on your own power. That horrible smile never wavered. He snorted, lifting up one hand and gesturing something to his unseen partner.

“Very well then. Your sister is free to go. You will follow me.” Kaido informed you, still smiling.

“W-Wait, don’t--!” Your sister protested, but you dropped your bag with her instead. You didn’t have anything but supplies in it and… well, you doubted you’d need any of them now.

“Good luck.” You whispered, quickly hugging her shoulders and using that as leverage to lift her to her feet. “I love you.”

You turned away from your sister without saying another word and walked over to Kaido, still unsure as to why he wanted you to begin with. Your sister’s footsteps and quiet sobs faded behind you quickly.

You glanced up at Kaido to find him still staring at you, quite pleased with something.

As it turned out, only a few of your group escaped alive, including your sister. Uncertain and increasingly nervous, you listened to the quick report Kaido received from his men before they started marching further into the city. It also turns out that it was indeed a trap from the start. They let the previous group escape knowing how desperate the resistance was for resources in the hope that they’d sent higher ranking members to ensure pick up. They didn’t expect you though.

And boy, wasn’t that a surprise? You knew you’d made several waves in the resistance with risky but pragmatic plays against the invading forces, but you never knew it had reached Kaido of all people. However, it didn’t surprise you to learn that he mostly seemed to consider you a weak little rat, scavenging desperately for a purpose. It seemed about right for him to think that, in all honesty. His opinion of everyone around him was… lacking to put it lightly.

What was further into the city turned out to be a landed ship, sitting on what used to be a park. It was massive, almost too big for the modest lot to hold, and naturally more advanced than anything you’d ever seen before. Kaido’s symbol etched on the side boldly.

“Keep going, little rat.” Kaido gestured for you to enter the ship first and you grimaced but did so quietly. You had made a deal after all. And it’s not like you’d be able to fight your way out of this one. “It’s time to wash off that filth before you stink up my ship.” You huffed but made no further complaint as Kaido settled a massive hand on your shoulders and guided you around the maze of corridors. His men naturally falling behind and going their own ways quickly. The halls were immaculate and white with tapestries of what appeared to be various other worlds lining them.

Eventually Kaido stopped you in front of a doorway, waving his hand to make it open. The interior was dark, consisting mostly of shades of blue with occasional pops of color. Clearly, it was a bedroom, with many soft surfaces to recline on and what appeared to be a small kitchen area to eat in. You… weren’t staying here, were you? Why? Seriously, why are you here?

Kaido simply lead you to a side door where a massive bathroom awaited.

Right.

He wanted you to get clean. What good it would really do either of you when you put your clothes back on?

He turned and left, thankfully, but notably without explaining a damn thing to you about how to use the tub. You knew people had issues adjusting to different showers all the time. The odd fixtures, differing water temperatures, and water pressure enough to throw anyone off but… you legitimately didn’t even know where the water would come from. There didn’t seem to be a visible spout anywhere, nor a showerhead of any kind. You didn’t suppose the water would simply spring into existence, but there really weren’t a lot of options otherwise.

Still fully clothed, you puzzled over the massive tub nervously. You did want to get clean, really! And not just because a scary, massive alien man told you to either. Hygiene was important in a war, but resources were scarce. You often had to do with just splashing water over your face and particularly dirty, smelly parts. The prospect of using an entire tub on your own was thrilling—though you could do without the circumstances that led you here.

The door opened and you glanced back in surprise, nearly screaming when you saw him.

Kaido was naked. Completely fucking naked. Every inch of his body on display like he didn’t just barge in unannounced without a thread of clothes to cover himself. Unwillingly, your eyes shot everywhere, trying to find somewhere decent to look but-but he was so damn distracting!

Eight feet of pure, unnecessarily defined muscles in a vaguely human shape. Sure, his face was kind of human, if you ignored the blue scales that covered the upper half of his face and the vicious teeth… as well as the horns of course. And his upper body was… mostly human. Scales fading out on his chest and down his inner thighs. His legs were similarly human as well, with the added scales and ebony black nails. His tail well… that wasn’t very human either, but it was familiar enough to you. Like a lizard but a strip of black hair spiked down the upper ridge from his head to the tip.

You were absolutely not looking at his dick. This was scary enough as it was without adding that to the mix but… it looked as sizable as you could expect it to be given his stature.

Through the mask, of course, Kaido couldn’t see you trying to look anywhere but at him. He still seemed to radiate amusement in spite of this.

“C-Can I help you?!” You asked, stuttering through the mask. Kaido snorted.

“I suppose I should have expected you to have trouble with this part.” Kaido caged you in deliberately with his body, thick, muscular arms and body noticeably throwing off heat. He leaned over you, reaching for the far side where a barely visible display lit up, tapping it with his claws. “You can hardly bathe in that, you know. And they won’t be of any use to you anymore. Get in.” Water slid into the tub from a slit in the wall, cascading down over the glowing display of symbols you didn’t understand. It was a lot more quiet than you expected it to be, as well as unusually high tech for a simple tub.

As you were distracted, Kaido yanked off your mask and clothes efficiently. So quickly in fact, you were pretty sure you imagined the lingering touch of his claws over your hips. Without any hesitation, he picked you up by your waist and stepped into the tub, sinking down into the rising water with a sigh. Laying your back across his chest, Kaido hummed.

“W-Was this really necessary?!” you could feel something press against your thigh, and despite your best efforts to pretend otherwise, you knew damn well it wasn’t his tail considering you could see it curled across the bottom of the tub. In a startlingly short amount of time, the tub was filled almost to the brim with hot water, steam curling in the bathroom in thick clumps. Without any effort from either of you, the water shut off.

“I see no need in bathing separately, little rat. And I might as well make a few things clear while ensuring you clean up properly.” Kaido grumbled, scooping up a handful of water and dumping it over your head suddenly. His hands brushed over your bare shoulders, pushing off the dirty water that clung to your skin before leaning down to speak into your ear. “Have you not wondered why I agreed to a trade?”

Baffled, you shuddered from the relatively cool breeze from his words as he dumped more water over you.

“Well yeah… If I had to guess…” You trailed off, ignoring the persistent pressure against your thigh. “A trophy? Amusement? If you wanted me dead, it would already be so…” You glanced back and froze, blood rushing to your face.

His eyes cut into you, lips curled into an almost fond smile that was a little too sharp. His face close enough that every exhale brushed over your sensitive, wet skin.

“Very good guesses, I’ll give you that. Closer to a mix, though. You see, there’s something very specific I want from you.” His claws curled over your arms and brushed over your breasts, cupping them firmly as he grinned. “Think you can make a better guess?” His thumbs pressed into the soft swell, massaging downward to rub your nipples. You gave a startled moan and bodily flinched. Realizing suddenly what he wanted from you.

“I-I really don’t think that’s a good idea!” You yelped, almost trying to leap out of the water but Kaido squeezed your breasts harshly, sending you slamming back into his chest to avoid the sudden, sharp pain. Kaido laughed, tucking his face into your neck. You shuddered but remained still as he opened his jaw to press a gentle bite on your skin, your head tipping out of the way instinctively as a hot tongue licked up the now clean waterdrops.

“Oh, I think it’s a very good idea. Come now, show me that bravery you had before.” Kaido teased, his hands fondling your breasts as you began to tremble, “Though if you’re that apprehensive, prove to me how little your body cares for my touch. If you can stop moaning that is.” His voice rumbled down your back.

Abruptly, you realized you had been making small, plaintive sounds under your breath. The sound bouncing off the walls and echoing over the quiet ripples of water. Swallowing hard, you nearly gasped when Kaido’s hands slipped to your thighs, spreading them over his lap. Your heart began to pound as his fingers slid closer to your cunt—and then trailed over your hips as he chuckled.

“D-Don’t you have someone else for this kind of thing?!” You squeaked when he pulled you flush to his chest and reached over for something. The seemingly empty space of wall lifted, revealing a row of bottles and brushes. He chuckled as he plucked out a few bottles and a sponge.

“Cleaning rats? No, actually. I haven’t thought to assign anyone the duty permanently.” Kaido mused, “Our ships have standards you know. I’m simply… bringing you up to standard as well. And testing your reactions.” Kaido poured a generous amount of soft blue liquid over a sponge and dragged it up your body. The porous sponge like silk against your skin as Kaido rubbed what must be soap over your breasts. You gasped, squirming under his hands as he fondled you, pinching your nipples as he pulled them up to ‘wash’ the underside.

You reached out to grab the side of the tub but your hand slipped. Kaido sighed in faint amusement and simply cleaned your arms in brisk motions. Lingering only slightly as he lathered the bubbles into your palms, bringing the sheer size of his hands to attention before moving on. It was a strange back and forth between brisk cleaning of your skin and deliberately teasing reluctant moans… it was making you dizzy in the hot steam rising from the water.

Suddenly, Kaido reached down and grabbed your left thigh, lifting it out of the water. Surprised, you scrambled to hold onto something, sliding down his chest before grabbing his hips behind you. His cock pressed a strange, thick line against the curve of your ass as he groaned, bucking slightly and illustrating how hard he was. It slipped to the side to grind intimately against your cunt. You moaned low in your chest as he dragged the sponge along your leg with a hiss. You started to pant, squeezing your eyes shut as your skin flushed, all too aware of how hot his cock was as it brushed over your clit.

He allowed your leg to drop suddenly, dipping his face into your shoulder with a groan as you unintentionally squeezed your thighs around his cock. His breath smoldering as it curled over your skin. His tail lazily thrashed before curling over your calves, pinning them together as he pressed a large hand into your shoulders. Forcing your chest down until you had to jerk your head back to avoid going into the water. Kaido’s knees rose up, further pinning your legs and head in place as he angled his legs to squeeze you.

The sound of your shuddering breaths echoing in the confined space between his thighs as he dragged the sponge over your back. Putting enough force into the motions to rock your cunt against his cock. You made the mistake of opening your eyes and gasped. Through the sparse covering of bubbles, you could see his dick between your thighs. Thick and massive, the head curved up to your belly button. Darker than his skin, it changed to a flushed blue and purple about halfway.

There were scales—ridges layered down his cock lined with a teal blue on the upper side. But a thick line of blunt spines size of your thumb protruded up from the underside, visibly pulsing between black pearls. You could only assume the pearls were a part of an exotic piercing that trailed down towards the base in progressively smaller pearls. Like you had taken a string of the precious jewels to cradle his cock in strangely delicate strings.

“Appreciating the view? I look forward to seeing how well you take it, precious.” Kaido groaned, hips jerking and sliding his monstrous cock against your slick cunt. “You still haven’t proved to me that your body doesn’t crave my cock, you know. I can tell the difference between water and your cunt creaming for me.” He warned in a low coo. Your breath hitched and your tried to wriggle out of his hold fruitlessly. He only groaned, pushing your spine down harder as he bucked beneath you. You clutched his thighs, nails digging into his skin but failing to so much as scratch him.

“K-Kaido—” You gasped, lips inches from the water as you panted. His cock pulsed hard between your thighs.

“Oh. I quite like that sound.” Kaido dropped the sponge and yanked you back against his chest to purr into your ear. “Do it again, precious.” His hands cradled your breasts, toying with them harshly, nails pricking your skin as he forced his cock to grind into you. The thick ridges catching on your clit hard.

Your body clenched around him, your hands scrambling to find something—anything to cling to. The long black tendrils found their way between your fingers, revealing themselves to be just hair. Yanking as you twitched under his assault did nothing but make Kaido laugh at your pathetic, startled pleas. His name stuttered and slurred under your breath as your slick coated his cock.

“K-Kaid—oh-ngh~! Kaido! K-Kaido p-p-please~!” You threw your head back and he was quick to capitalize on the opportunity. Finally allowing your futile yanks to pull his head down so he could shove his tongue between your panting lips. His claws pinched and pulled on your nipples hard, forcing you to peak and scream into his mouth.

You shook weakly in his arms as suddenly awareness flooded back in. Kaido carried you with a smug grin over to his bed. Your body was only a little damp now, even your hair. You wanted to believe it was the harsh rations that made you black out, but the intense orgasm could have very well accomplished it on its own. You couldn’t even lie and claim you weren’t eagerly apprehensive to know what it would be like when he actually fucked you. If his cock could even fit to begin with.

“Back again I see. I’m glad to see that my faith in your strength wasn’t unfounded.” Kaido smiled, only somewhat gentle compared to before. “Now for the real trial.” Kaido sat against the headboard and placed you in his lap, his throbbing cock pressing against your cunt and stomach. You froze and glanced up at him in panic.

“There’s no way in hell that’s fitting.” You weren’t even confident you could hold it in both hands, let alone in your cunt. Kaido smirked and laughed mockingly.

“It will. Even if it takes hours, I’m going to claim every inch of your body as mine. So either you can get to work or I can tie you down to be… what was the word? Ah. Ravished. I think I like that word almost as much as when you moaned my name.” Kaido squeezed your hips and lifted you up until the tip of his cock pressed against the opening of your cunt. “Beg. Scream if it makes you feel better. Try and scar me with your teeth and nails. But you will take every inch with pleasure. That’s an order.” He pulled, breaching your body with just the tip as you whimpered. It burned, the thickness that penetrated you so little compared to what you had left to go.

Trembling, you reached out and pressed your hands on his chest, nails catching on his scales as he simply kept breathing softly. Completely unbothered save for the pulse of his cockhead in your cunt. You dug your feet into the sinfully soft blanket and lifted your hips, his cock popping out of place. Swallowing hard, you dragged your wet pussy over his tip, hopeful that the pain would ease if it wasn’t so dry. To your shame, you were practically dripping wet for him, easily coating him with a few soft passes.

Taking a deep breath, you dropped your weight slowly, allowing the tip to slip inside you again. Your thighs shook as you started panting, clenching your fists as you pulled away only to fall back down again. Taking him in excruciatingly small steps as your cunt struggled. Rough hands cradled your waist and you jolted right off his cock in surprise, looking up at Kaido with tears clinging to your lashes. His yellow eyes were heavy as he patiently smiled down at you. He didn’t force you onto his cock with his grip on your body. Merely held you. Like he was offering emotional support for your… strenuous undertaking.

Swallowing hard, you tried to sit down on his cock again, this time finally slipping past the head. Your cunt catching under the ridge in a tight grip as you shook. Trying to pull off his thick length proved… more difficult than expected. The snap of tension leaving your pussy startling a moan from you. You were startled to find that even with just the tip, you felt so fucking empty with it gone. Sighing, you pressed down harder, the airy breath turning into a deep moan as the first spike pressed against your cunt.

It popped in suddenly, bending under the harsh squeeze, your cunt eagerly taking it before catching on the pearl underneath it. Kaido laughed at your weak whimper, claws digging into your skin gleefully. Without meaning to, you faltered, the next spike slipping in along with another three pearls. Pussy snapping under a thick ridge, almost locking you deeper into his cock, your cursed it, the spikes, and the three pearls that pressed into your walls. Fully aware that you had many left to go. Crying out, you jerked your hips up with wet pops until only the head of his dick was splitting you open.

“Sssshit!” You hissed, slamming back down and taking in another two spikes and several pearls. “Y-You’re so—so fucking big o-ooohh~ Ah-k-Kaido~! W-Why d-do you h—aahhnn—t-the pearls! Ah fuck, why do you have them?!” You wailed, legs giving out when you tried to pull back up and the spikes pressed into your walls hard. Kaido held you up with a rough laugh.

“And miss out on seeing you fall apart trying to take my cock, precious thing?” Kaido slowly fucked you on his cock, never going deeper than you had managed on your own or pulling out completely as your spine arched. “Did I underestimate you? Are you too weak to even be a cocksleeve for your king?”

Dizzy and panting you shook your head. Your body burned to feel the rest of his cock.

“N-No! I-I want it! F-Fffffuck I-I need you—please K-Kaido l-let me—OH~!” You moaned as Kaido let you fall onto his cock. The sudden splitting burned and thrilled you as you slipped further down. The press of his scales, spikes, and pearls grinding against the walls of your sopping wet cunt. You stopped on what you hazily assumed was the thickest part of his dick. Any attempt to grind down further as futile as your scream when you pulled off another thick pearl. Flexible spike digging into the opening of your cunt that snagged on another protruding ridge.

“Your pathetic mewling does you no favors when I can feel your dripping cunt struggle on my cock.” Kaido teased you, leaning over to kiss you hard. Biting and lapping at the blood from his fangs. “I’ve conquered countless planets. Taking mementos from each to remember them by. And your pussy has the honor of finally taking something from me. Don’t you want to accept this gift from your king? Oh but how your cunt struggles for me… Does my precious little prize need her king’s assistance taking her cock?”

You trembled in his arms, keening as his inhuman cock massaged your walls.

“Y-Yes! Yes! F-Fuck please h-help me! Y-You’re s-so big K-Kaido—mmm-my k-king!” Kaido growled, bruising your hips as he slammed you down his cock. You screamed as your hips met his thighs and rough pubic hair grinding into your clit. His dick impossibly wide in your cunt, pulsing and grinding your walls as you squirted. You looked up at him as he grinned, bearing his fangs down at you like a predator. Your trembled, drooling as you cried out for him.

“Oh, what a pretty face this is. A perfect match for your cunt—I’m a little surprised you didn’t pass out again. I thought I’d have to fuck you back awake, splitting open your tight cunt until you screamed my name in your sleep. Keep calling me your king, though, and I’ll have to break you in properly.” Kaido bucked his hips, bouncing you on his cock as you started to sob. Your cunt refusing to part from a single hard earned inch. “Not that it takes much to turn you into a little cocksleeve. Look at you, moaning like a whore for your king. All that struggle to fight against me… look where it got you? Creaming on my command. And for what? Your sister? Do you want to know where she is?”

Muddled and quivering on his cock, a stab of ice still swept through your body as you looked at him desperately.

“M-My sister?! W-What did you do to h-her?” You moaned as his cock pulsed against your walls.

“Oh, don’t worry. She’s safe… just like you are.” Your eyes widened and you shook your head.

“N-No! Y-You p-promised!” Kaido laughed, forcing you onto your back as his hips slammed  into you, your thighs aching from the stretch around his hips. “K-Kaido~!”

Kaido leaned down and pressed his fangs into your neck with a sick grin.

“I lied.” Kaido ripped his cock from your body, making you scream as a new orgasm swept through you so he could slam back into your quivering walls. “So you won’t be lonely when I have to rip apart your little resistance… when your not warming your king’s bed and dripping in cum.”

“N-No! S-Stop—Ah-ahn~! Y-You liar!” Kaido bit down hard on your breast as he snapped his hips into you rapidly.

“And you’re a liar’s whore. And you fucking love it.” Kaido sank his fangs into your neck as he slammed his hips into you, cock jerking as he came hard, flooding you with his cum. You slammed your hands into his chest in a futile attempt to push him away from you.

Kaido grabbed your hands and something clicked around them. Cold metal kissing your heated skin. Suddenly, your arms were yanked up towards the far corners of the bed as Kaido laughed.

“Magnetic cuffs. I’ll give you the others as you earn them.” Kaido elaborated through harsh pants as he railed into you harder, cum squirting out in thick, wet clumps down your ass, “To remind you and everyone else of your first night serving your new king. Keep screaming my name unless you want me to fuck your throat.”

You couldn’t respond, the breath fucked from your lungs as Kaido pressed his lips against yours in a deep, hot kiss. You could only cry and moan as you came on his cock again, squeezing the stiff spikes as they dug into your delicate walls. You trembled and squirmed as he relentlessly drove his cock into you.

Your breasts bouncing on your chest from every movement, Kaido took sadistic glee in nipping your skin wherever he pleases. Blood coloring your skin in bruised and beads depending on his mood. Cock pushing against your cervix every time he flooded your cunt with more cum. Sneering, Kaido pressed down on the soft swell of your lower body, liquid seeping out in bursts to stain the bed.

“M-My K-King—Ah-ah-mmm-hahn~!” You slurred dizzily as Kaido flipped you over, squeezing your hips as he continued to fuck you like a doll. Your arms were gently pulled by the cuffs, preventing you from gripping the sheets beneath you as he rammed into cunt, making you scream.

The spikes now ramming into your most sensitive spots, legs jerking with pleasure and the hard motions of his body. Kaido snarled, licking up your spine and laughing into your soaked hairline.

“Something the matter, precious? Is my cock too much for you to take? What a pity you have to disappoint me like this—if only I cared about your weak mewling on my cock.” Kaido gave a cruel laugh, “A cunt this sweet is fit for a king, and I won’t deny myself the pleasure when you clearly love being a whore for me. Look at you, traitor to your kind with every squeeze on my cock. Proof you love screaming under your rightful king—why would I deny such a devoted whore by taking back my cock from your sopping wet cunt? After you struggled and cried and begged for it? It’s hardly my fault you don’t know what to do with it now that you have it.” Kaido snapped his hips into your ass, laughing as his tail swept over your body. Constricting over your breasts and teasing them.

You screamed when Kaido slammed your body back onto the bed, a slick hand slapping your ass as he used his tail to bounce you on his cock. Breathing grew harder as Kaido chased his end with your body, tail squeezing you as sweat made you slip in his hold. Relentlessly, he fucked you with hisses and growls. Hitting your ass when he thought your screams were dying down.

Finally, he came again, fresh cum dripping out of your crowded cunt. Tail releasing your chest to tip your head back for a kiss. Gasping for air around his thick tongue, you whined for mercy.

“P-Please! N-No more! I-I can’t tak--Hahng~ oh! Oh! K-Kaido--!” Kaido slammed his cock back into you, gripping your chin hard with a bone deep growl, slapping you hip hard enough to bruise. “M-My K-King! My king! I-I’m s-s-sorry—oh! Ah! H-hah~!”

“Address me properly or not at all.” Kaido yanked out from your spasming cunt and shoved you onto your back. He kneeled over your body and slapped his wet cock between your breasts, gripping your head and chin to shove the tip onto your tongue. The spikes dug into your skin, bending against your sternum with every soft thrust. “Can you taste that? Your submission to your king? Swallow it down like a good girl, precious, and perhaps I will honor you with your own throne.” Kaido stared down at your trembling lips as you weakly licked and sucked his tip.

The taste was thick and musky, tainted with something sharp that grew with every soft spurt of pre. Thankfully, Kaido declined the impulse to fuck your face, instead choosing to rock and smear the tip of his cock over your tongue. Faster than you thought possible, hot cum shot into your open mouth. Your lips sealed over the pulsing head as you dutifully attempted to drink it down. Thin streams slipping between your lips. Kaido groaned, pleased and smug.

As you gasped, suddenly free of his oppressive heat, Kaido picked you up and leaned back.

“Oh!” You moaned, jolting as Kaido gave you that ‘throne’ he promised. His tongue almost soothing for your sore cunt despite the thickness that pressed into your walls. Hands free from the cuff’s influence suddenly, you grabbed his horns and weakly rubbed your cunt over his lips. Kaido chuckled, the vibrations making your body jolt as you struggled to remain seated. His hands secured over your hips firmly, you found it impossible to get off. Only able to cry and jerk uselessly as he licked across your slick pussy. Tongue eagerly smearing into your folds before driving into your body again. Fucking your weeping pussy in teasing strikes.

Your orgasm came slowly in a harsh wave. Thighs jerking against his hold as you screamed, unable to run away or lessen the pleasure as Kaido groaned at the wash of cum he drank eagerly. Dizzy, you fell to the side as Kaido allowed you to free yourself from his ravenous hold.

Only to scream again when he loomed over you and lifted one of your limp legs. Sliding his cock to the base. Fucking you roughly, all trace of gentleness gone, Kaido sneered down at you.

“So fucking weak beneath me. Your pathetic cunt may as well be gaping now. My cock just slipped into you, precious.” Kaido laughed, ramming into your thighs. “Cock drunk! Only fitting for a whore like you—mine to fuck as your king, isn’t that right, precious?”

You couldn’t speak, only moan weakly as your body jerked under his assault.

“Hmph! Can’t think of anything to say? Good. Mewl and scream for me, precious. We’re far from done destroying your cunt.” Kaido’s cock jerked, filling you back up with hot cum. But he didn’t soften or slow down in the least. “I think this vacant expression suits you, precious. Drooling like this weak little cunt on my cock. As your king, I’m quite pleased in my new pet. Already so familiar with your place~ let’s see how well you continue to take me, precious.” Kaido picked you up and sat back. Piercing your body with his cock as he rocked you with slow rolls of his hips. Pinning you on his lap sideways with his tail. Hands toying with your breasts and tipping your head back for a deep kiss.

It was surprisingly gentle for your king, though undeniably uncompromising.  Unsurprisingly, it only lasted as long as it took to flood your quivering cunt. Your weak moans muffled under his tongue. Then, like he was conquering your body again, Kaido tossed you onto the bed.

Forcing you to arch your spine and present your ass to him. He pinned you to the mattress and wasted no time railing you. Cock slipping into your spent cunt with no difficulty. Kaido snarled at your breathless mewl, hooking his fingers into your mouth as he fucked you harder. Sneering when you sobbed with pleasure.

“What a noisy slut you are for me. Keep crying, precious. Your pathetic sounds go right to my cock ~”

Hours later, when you could no longer scream and everything was hazy around you, you barely registered soothing warmth pulling you in close. Out of your pinned position with a broken moan as he pulled his cock out slowly for the last time. Thighs sticky with spent cum that still dropped from your assaulted cunt. Sighing, you curled close to the slick scales that radiated heat. A blunt nail brushing through your hair as a deep laugh rumbled against your body. Your throat and lungs ached as sleep dragged you under swiftly after only seconds of rest.

“Good night, precious. We’ll work on your stamina tomorrow.”

[kaciidubs]

The Summoning | Spooktober 2023

❣ Summary: Desperate times called for desperate measures, and you may have just summoned the most desperate measure of them all. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 1.16k ❣ Warnings: Demon! Jisung, humor, smut, Reader is a wee bit sassy, Switch! Reader, Switch! Jisung, implied multiple rounds, riding, open ended ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Han is referred to as Jisung, Ji, Baby, and Sir, Reader is referred to as Jagi, and Baby, barely edited, there's basically no plot ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist ❣ Spooktober 2023

You were sure you followed the incantation properly, the candles were at the right points on your - albeit crudely drawn - sigil and the pronunciation of the Latin words were damn near spot on with the YouTube video you kept bookmarked. 

So, why wasn't there currently a tall, burly demon standing in front of you, ready to snatch your soul in more ways than one?

"What the fuck?"

Standing before you, looking just as confused as you were, was a man - a man - with admittedly gorgeously styled hair, an all black outfit that some how highlighted his slim figure, and a golden cross chain hanging from his neck.

Ironic.

"What- Where-" His eyes scanned frantically around your room before settling on you, still knelt at the head of the summoning circle. "Who are you and how did you do that?! Where am I even at? Who are you?"

You bristled at his constant questioning, eyebrows furrowing, "I should be asking you who you are! I was hoping for some sort of scary horny demon who was ready to blow my back out, not whoever you are!"

"Horny demon? Blow your- Hold on, hold on." He pressed his hands to his face, muttering under his breath though you weren't able to catch what he was saying. "You... You tried summoning a demon for sex? Are you insane?!"

"No, I'm horny." You deadpanned, crossing your arms over your chest, "And you're one to judge, since you came here!"

The demon dropped his hands, eyes wide and lips - cute, plush-looking, and kissable - set in a pout, "I didn't come here on my own! You summoned me, remember?!"

Groaning, you glanced toward the notebook with your summoning notes written in it, "I guess, even though you weren't what I was expecting at all." Looking up at him again, you shrugged, "Well, if you aren't going to satisfy anything, you can just - I don't know, poof back to hell or wherever you came from?"

He froze, mouth opening and closing with stammers that made you raise an eyebrow inquisitively. "I... Well, I can't."

"Huh?"

"I can't leave until I, um... Satisfy your needs."

If you looked hard enough, you could've seen the faintest blush rising on his cheeks.

"D-Don't get this wrong, either!" He shouted, quickly falling into the defensive, "I literally can't, it's in the incantation, I'm bound to you until I satisfy the contract of your summon."

There was a beat of silence between you, the cogs in your head working double time as you processed his words and all their double entendre meanings.

"So... You're stuck with me until you-"

"-blow your back out, yes."

Sure, he may not have been the big scary demon you were hoping for, but you couldn't deny that he was attractive and he looked like he'd be a pretty good lay. Besides - when would you be able to say you summoned, and fucked, a demon?

Pushing yourself up from your knelt position, you brushed off your knees with an exaggerated huff, "Alright then," you put your hands on your hips, smirking at the brunet in front of you, "fuck me."

Within the next ten minutes you learned a few new things; the first being that his name was Jisung - or at least, that's what you caught amidst his heavenly soft lips moving rapidly against your own. The second was that there was a specific way demons operated when it came to summons, and your chant just so happened to bind onto him. The third was that he had extremely sensitive ears, and for someone so sure about initiating things, he was a mere gentle breeze away from folding to your command.

And boy, did he fold.

"Oh, fuck me-"

He laid underneath you, hair an unforgivable mess thanks to your restless fingers and face wrapped in sheer pleasure as you rode him like a woman possessed; the springs in your mattress protesting in kind.

"Fuck- Fuck, Jagi, just like that."

"I can't tell," you huffed, breaking away from your assault of the pretty skin of his neck, "if you're the one who's supposed to be fucking me," your fingers slid from his hair and to his shoulders, slowly dancing their way down to his nipples, "or if I'm the one fucking you."

"I-I tried, but you-" a whimper fell from his lips as you gently pinched at the small, perked nipples, "-didn't even g-give me a chance!"

"Give you a chance? Baby," your movements changed to slow grinds of your hips, a sinister smirk growing on your lips from the way his pouted lips fell into a small 'o'. "I gave you permission to take me, use me as you wished - show me the reason why my summon worked on you." Leaning down, your lips grazed over his, "Show me why I chose you."

The air shifted around you, sparks of excitement shooting down your spine as you felt him shiver underneath you - your only sign of a physical change before you were suddenly rolled onto your back with ease.

There was no point in hiding the delighted giggle that floated from your mouth, not when it was subsequently followed by a shocked gasp as you took in the man - or rather, demon, before you.

His irises were a deep red, rivaling the prettiest of roses, while a set of horns curled from the sides of his head before curving up at his temples, the sharp points looking more inviting than they should have been.

Your pussy clenched at the smirk he wore, teeth bearing points that surely weren't there before.

"Why you chose me, Jagi?" Jisung spoke, the newfound low register in his tone wrapping around your mind and rendering you utterly defenseless. "Want me to show you why I'm the only one worthy of ruining this little pussy? Give you the treatment you got down on your knees for?"

His hands found your thighs, sliding down to your knees to hook your legs around his lithe hips before pressing forward, sinking whatever inches escaped you back into your slick cunt.

"Well?"

Taking that as your warm invitation to speak, you nodded quickly, "Y-Yes."

He tsked, loose strands of hair falling before his eyes as he shook his head, "Yes?"

"Yes, Sir." The title fell from your lips effortlessly, almost as if it was waiting to be used all along - natural.

His smirk grew wider, and you found yourself wishing he'd show you the delicious contrast of his sharp teeth and his pillow-soft lips, if only for a moment.

Anchoring onto his knees, Jisung cocked his head as if to process the simple addition of one word, "Sir... That's a good start, baby - keep it up and I might have to stay even when the contract's up."

From that moment on, the only chant you needed was his name, your sigil now in the form of your nails on his back, and whenever you summoned him, he came - and so did you, many, many times.

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @goblinracha, @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @happilydeepestwonderland, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @broken-glowsticks, @s00buwu, @dancerachaslut, @junglyric, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89

✧. ┊Kinktober only: @selicua

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[thewriterg]

hush puppy

A/n: oh wow headcannons so cute I wrote this while I was half asleep so… —kinktober day; 23—

warning(s); SMUT, power dynamic, degradation, praise, dry humping, pegging, pet names, and language

secret subs! who probably told you they were doms the first time you even brought up sex in fear that you would think how they actually wanted to be treated was gross and we’re afraid you wouldn’t like them if so

secret subs! who used to make themselves nauseous when previous flings would cry under them begging on their cock while degrading phrases were forced from his lips burning his tongue and ended not enjoying sex for a while

secret subs! who gets hard from you calling them a good boy even if they were doing something harmless like washing the dishes that has them rushing towards the bathroom to take care of the growing tint in their pants

secret subs! who act very poised and carry themselves with confidence that you can break down in seconds by a few words and light feathery touches to… sensitive areas

secret subs! who look up fem doms and are aching soon enough face flushed skin hot until they finally slam the laptop closed a vowel to never watch something like it again for obvious reasons… the obvious reasons being a stubborn boner pressing against their pants bottoms while they squeeze their legs together trying to take the pain off their aching cock

secret subs! who start testing the waters with little things like seeing how far they can get with making you angry before you tip over the edge and put them back in their place where they should stay

secret subs! who let out rushed moans not realizing what they said as you bounce on their cock your cunt swallowing them whole “ngh- oh fuck miss please”

secret subs! who let you fuck your frustrations out on them after a long day or a situation that didn’t go how you wanted it to “name augh- please, please, please, name” long whimpers and whines that are loud and clear while you thrust your hips into his abused hole hitting his prostate over and over with your strapped cock

secret subs! who act out just for your attention even if it’s the wrong attention or very right in their mind “please mam I’m ahh! I’m s-sorry I won’t do it a-a- oh fuck! I won’t do it again” he sobbed his arms tied behind his back bare now red and bruising ass revealed to you to use at you disposal “no, you wanted my attention? you got my attention baby” You hummed before bringing your hand down harshly the air whooshing behind it coming down with a harsh sting that brought tears to their eyes

Secret subs! who live for degrading insults as much as they do your praise “dirty fucking slut couldn’t wait five minutes before your getting off on my shoe” You chuckle staring down at him his clothed cock rubbing against the tip of your boot under your desk as you ended your online meeting

©2023 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.

[hobisstar]

still with you | y!jungkook x fem!reader

summary: being the most famous and popular youtuber and singer has its kicks. great fans, terrible fans, weird fans, you’ve seen and had them all… but this fan? you wish you never had…

warnings: jk is WEIRD okay he’s weird asf in this, male masturbation, stalking, jungkook is an idol in this, mentions of kidnapping, murders, yandere.

tag list: none.

note: i’ll switch from You to Y/N a lot. Bold and Line Through. Are Jk’s negative thoughts, more so the weird ones. this is a preview imagine of spooktober!!

“so who’s your favorite singer, Jungkook?” an interviewer asked as they, BTS, where doing a short little tv appearance. the question was, who is an artist you’d love to collaborate with in the near future, everyone had their fair share of answers but the one person Jungkook had in mind was no other than, Y/N L/N.

She was bigger than any other singer or youtuber out there, with 45 Million subscribers on youtube and millions of fans over the world, she was everywhere. She has done video collaborations with CoryxKenshin, Berleezy, PG, DashieGames and many more. She is adored.

Jungkook found her channel when she was a newbie to the youtuber world. He liked the video of her trying on different clothes from all over the world, room tours, decorating, gaming videos, vlogs, but he got more into her once he found out she did music. He had to be the first person to ever really be her fan in his eyes, of course. He loved her for a very long time.

“I’d have to say, Y/N L/N… i love her… style and her youtube channel. i’m a huge fan!” he answered happily. The crowded went absolutely crazy as he’s always talked about Y/N. you would think they dated the way he promoted her so much.

“Really? she is coming her next Friday for an interview! did you hear she’s doing a world tour, starting with South K?” the interviewer asked. “Yes yes, i want to get me a ticket the minute they go on sale..” he smiled happily and the crowd awed at his answer.

“I’ll definitely let you guys know when my tickets go on sale, obviously! That’s it for now, until next time, see you!” You smiled ending the recording and big a stretch. You are glad that it was just a little clip that you need to edit to post out later, but boy was it tough being a youtuber, you loved it though.

As soon as you got up you heard your phone going off profusely. You went to grab it and saw it was twitter and you were being tagged in a certain posted. It was a video of Jungkook from BTS during a, which you assume, recent interview. “ I love her.” is what a lot of fans were saying in the comments. It was a quote of what Jungkook said in the video. Instead of really responding just yet you reshared the clip saying “ The love is mutual 💜 @BTS_twt!” and posted it.

You’ve always been a fan of BTS! You loved everything about them, the message they were sending out about loving yourself, taking care of you, living your life no matter what anyone has to say about it, you loved it all! You never really knew that Jungkook was a fan of yours. Little do you know you wished you never knew that..

“Kook, you’ve been literally staring at her retweet since we got back to the hotel.” Taehyung spoke out with his eyebrow up. “I’m starting to think this is a little more than a fan thing. You have a crush on her don’t you?” Jin in also chipped in, pinching Jungkooks cheeks. The two were ready to start to teasing him. “ Actually, i do.” he stated calmly still looking at the tweet thing clicking on her twitter account.

“ Oh, we thought we had a chance to tease you… fuck.” Taehyung said as the elevator dinged. “ Well, we will see you in a few for dinner? jimin and I have a Vlive to do. Get some rest!” He spoked as Him and Jimin stepped out the elevator and walked to jimins room.

Jungkook nodded and walked to his room, taking out his keycard and holding it to the door to open it. He sighed as he walked in and instantly decided to take a shower. He went into the bathroom, started the water, put on some music, Y/N of course, and got undressed.

He stepped into the shower and let out a moan of relaxation. Jung let the water run down his body and he closed his eyes. Soon, a picture of you appeared in his head. You and him, together, in the shower taking turns to clean each other. He took his hands that was covered in soap and grasped your beautiful tits and slowly massaged them. The image of him doing that sent a shock wave to his crotch, which he tried to ignore.

Slowly the image started to get steamy, your imaginary moans filled his ears making them melt. Jungkook grabbed his hard length that was dripping from the water and his precum. He began the stroke his cock slowly imagining it was your tight pussy. He moaned going faster feeling himself about the release any minute. He never lasted when he imagined it, but he promised you, kinda, that he’d go longer, seven days a week even. As he cummed and grunted watching his cum shoot all over the shower walls and some getting on the floor, he saw your face one last time and it was you giving you a sweet kiss on the tip of his cock that sent shivers up his spine.

After, he cleaned himself with some warm vanilla with brown sugar and almonds scented soap, your favorite, he got out, dried off, and got dressed. Jungkook looked at the time and saw he still had an hour to spare.

He went to bag and took out his computer and decided to watch a few of your videos. This is his day to day. You are his day to day schedule. No matter what, he will get at least 5 videos of Y/N in a day.

Concerts were always fun! Making music was fun too! But once you heard that you would be collaborating with the Jeon Jungkook for a cover of his song Still With You, you were shocked! I mean less than A day ago, you found out that he was a huge fan, now you are collaborating with him?

You were currently in the studio rehearsing some of the notes when your manager walks in and says “ Hey! Mr, Jeon is on his way up! Just thought i should let you know.” He smiles and as your about to answer there is a soft knock. “ Come on in.” you say and stand up. Jungkook walks in and you almost gasp.

“Oh my you are more handsome in person.” Manager says lets out a little chuckle. “ I’m Tim, I’m her manager and that’s obviously -“ “ Y/N…” Jungkook cut Tim off before he could even get your name out. He couldn’t stop staring at you. Gosh, you are so beautiful in person. So small under his gaze. ‘i could take her from here, kill her manager and live off the grid, nobody would know. just so little…’

“ Right! It’s so nice to meet you, Jungkook! Um, you can sit here,” you point to the chair “ I’m gonna head in the booth to record these parts.” you smiled and took the paper in with you. Jungkook eagerly but slowly sat down in your chair. Watching as you put on the headset. Tim walked over and pressed a few buttons to make sure that it was recording. He put his thumb up and Y/N was in her own world.

“So, Jungkook, how long are you in the states for?” Tim asked leaning against the side of the frame, watching Y/N. Honestly, Jungkook hated Tim. He hated any that got close to what was his. He didn’t like it. When y/n did collaborate on videos he would report that video and thumbs down it. Even with songs he wouldn’t listen to it. He hated Tim because he wish he was Tim. Near her 24/7, being able to touch her, smell her, make her laugh, pick her outfits, take her to dinner, all the things Tim could do. He wanted Tim out the picture. Now.

“ Well originally it wasn’t for long, but then this opportunity came up and i wasn’t going to miss it for anything.” He answered plainly also staring at Y/N but with a different look in his eyes, Lust, Love, and Fear. Fear for you seeing him do what he was about to do to Tim. He didn’t want his wife getting scared yet. They haven’t even moved away yet.

“Yeah same with her. I’m gonna step out. I have a few things to do for a few other artists. Have fun and make a beautiful hit, i already know it is.” Tim smiled and left just like that. Jungkook let a breath of fresh air out. Finally.

Finally. It was time. Jungkook got up and took off his jacket. It was getting hot in here to him, though he knows Y/N prefers her studio cold. He went to the light switched and looked up seeing the lights could be changed to colors, he chose purple. Your favorite.

Y/N stepped out of the recording booth and closed the door to it and sat back down. You instantly went over your vocals and nodded your head liking how they came out. “ they are beautiful… perfect even.” Jungkook mumbled from behind you and pulled up a chair sitting a little too close to you. You definitely noticed it.

“Thank you, Jungkook.” Y/N smiled and stood up to look at a few things and Y/N almost wanted to run. The whole vibe was off, y/n could feel his eyes looking her up down since he walked in the studio. Y/N sat back down quickly and turned to Jungkook and forced a smile. “ It’s your turn! while you record it have to go speak with Tim about what to do next. i’ll Play the track when you are ready.” He watched her lips move, oh how he wanted to kiss them.

Jungkook snapped out of his trance and stood up entering the recording booth and sliding on the headphones. He loved the smell of the booth, it smelled just like you. your scent. Y/N put her thumb up and pressed play and didn’t even wait for him to start singing. She got up and left the room closing the door and taking a deep breath putting her head on the door. “ What the fuck was that?” you mumbled.

“What was what?” Tim spoke which made you jump harshly. “ FUCK! Tim don’t do that shit!”

“ I.. are you okay? you seem kinda scared. what’s wrong?” Tim read your face and just knew that you were upset, frightened even. “ Tim, there is something extremely wrong with… him.” she whispered while looking around. “ Him? Mr. Jeon? what do you mean? he seemed fine when i left.” He raises his eyebrow. “ Maybe you’re just nervous, Honey.”

While Y/N was in the hallway, Jungkook was done singing his lines and exited the booth, smiling. He wanted to impress Y/N with his beautiful vocals. “ That was… Y/N?” he said looking around the room, not seeing his girl in the chair. He calmed down and remembered that she had to do something. ‘Good, she didn’t run away.’

Jungkook sat down and waited for her.

10 minutes…

20 minutes…

25 minutes…

Finally, the door opened and walked Y/N with some refreshments. “ Sorry, the internet was a little slow.” she sits down and avoids his hand that he held out for the water bottle and placed it on the table. “ Let’s finish this for now so you can get going i’m sure you are very busy.” she said as she saved and downloaded both their vocals onto her flash drive.

“ Can i be honest with you, Y/N?” Jungkook asked while staring at the computer. She turned to look at him and then back at the computer, closing it. “ Yeah, of course.” she scooted back a bit to just give space. she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

“ Im really… a huge fan of yours. I love everything you do..” he started. “ the feeling is mutual, Kook.” she commented and smiled. “ No, not in that light… Ever since i found your videos back in 2019, when you first started. I instantly felt this this connection. Like we belong together. I started liking your photos and videos everywhere and then i found out that you do music.. i just fell more in love with you.” As he confessed he was doing this weird smile like, he enjoyed telling Y/N his confession. “ Im in love with you.” he ended. Y/N was taken back. Her feeling wasn’t wrong. There is definitely something not right about him. this was it.

“ Oh, that’s so sweet! I appreciate it, Jungkook.. but i don’t know what you want from me after telling me that, I.. I feel as though maybe we just keep it professional. just two artists being friends yeah?” Y/N stood up and began to pack her things up. Jungkook felt something click in his head. Like a switch turned off. “ I don’t… i dont understand… You don’t… love me back?” he asked also standing up. “ Be friends?… what do you take me as? Do you like toying with me?”

“ What? Jungkook that’s not… i never did that.” Y/N answered confused. “ Oh baby don’t be confused. You said all those times you love me. You even twitted the feeling is mutual.” He stepped toward Y/N corning her between the table and his tall stature.

Y/N turned around slowly, “Listen, i didn’t mean it like that. And if you are going to talk to me, please give me some space.” He looked in your eyes and chuckled lightly. “ Why would we need space… i finally have you this close to me… i’m not letting it go.” He gently took the hair that was falling in front of your face and pushed it behind your ear. You leaned away from the touch and pushed him with all your strength. He moved back enough for you to get to the door with your bag and open it. You flew out the room the last thing you heard was Jungkook humming.

You walked- no you ran through the car lot looking for your car, all of sudden not being able to remember where you parked this morning. You stopped to catch your breath and smiled once you saw your car.

You pressed the unlock button and quite literally jumped in your car and locked the doors. You put your hand on the steering wheel and just thought about what all happened. Jeon Jungkook just admitted to being madly in love with you. You should be happy, right? You are terrified. He stalked you basically your entire career and has been in love with you since you started your career. You can’t be happy after hearing that.

You got it together and grabbed your car keys and put it in the ignition, starting your car and driving home.

You should really check your back seats more..

You happily went inside your apartment and instantly took a shower. You didn’t forget about what happened the few hours before but the shower just eased your mind.

Once you got out and got dressed, the pitch blackness of your bedroom comforted you usually, But it made you uneasy. As it should.

You got in bed and sleep quickly took over you but not enough, as you awoke to hearing your bed room door creak close. You were scared shitless to even get up, fear making your body go numb. You heard that same melody again, that now cursed melody of Still With You. Jungkook was humming it before you ran out.

‘oh my…’ you mouthed as you felt the bed dip and someone get under the covers with you and slowly wrap their arms around you.

“ Good Night, Baby~. Tomorrow is a big day for us. Our new beginning.” Jungkook whispered into your ear and kissed your neck softly before sighing and singing you to sleep. That same cursed song…

“언제쯤일까 다시 그댈 마주한다면

When will I face you again?

눈을 보고 말할래요

I want to look you in the eye and tell you

"보고 싶었어요"

"I missed you"

[enassbraid]

𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇!

-> in a desperate attempt to convince your boyfriend you can watch a horror movie without getting scared, you end up proving his point

Cw’s ) none really, references to fear and gore (nothing graphic it’s just depicting a horror movie)

I’M BACK!!! And i am coming back with a fluffy nagi drabble for @nian-7 halloween/spooktober event! Did i procrastinate? Yes. But did i finish it?? Yes!! however this one is still a bit shorter than anything else I usually write due to life circumstances atm… but nonetheless I hope you enjoy!

“Are you scared?”

“N-No!”

Just as you finished denying your boyfriend’s accusation, another jump scare appeared on screen. While Nagi saw it coming from a mile away, it was all too sudden for you, causing yet another scream to rip through your throat.

“What happened to not being scared?” Nagi teased, although the monotone tone he always kept made him seem more serious than he actually was.

“That was just- AH!”

At some point in the evening, you had suggested binging a bunch of horror movies. Nagi shut that idea down at first, knowing it would end up like this- with you screaming from every little scare in the movie as he remains uninterested. However, you were persistent. With great logic such as “It’s October!” and “I won’t get scared this time, I swear!”, Nagi really didn’t have any other choice but to give in.

Of course, only one of those statements turned out to be false.

Truth be told, Nagi found the movie to be more funny than scary. It was clearly low budget, with not so great actors and poorly executed effects. Really, the makeup on the actors that are meant to be scary is really the only thing the movie has going for it.

But on your end, you couldn’t care less about any of the bad acting and stupid effects. As long as it looks scary, it is scary.

Hence why you’ve been screaming at a TV screen for the last 25 minutes.

“I think that’s enough for tonight… it’s almost 2am anyways.”

“Wait! I swear I can finish the rest without getting scared again!”

The snowy haired boy only deadpanned at your claim. If that was the first time you said that, he might have believed you. But since it was your 3rd time saying that tonight? Yeah, no. You were both better off going to bed at this point.

“You know you’re wrong, right?” He asked tiresomely.

Your brows furrowed for a moment, desperately wanting to prove Nagi wrong. But alas, this wouldn’t be the first time you were incapable of doing so.

“Yeah…”

“And you know you’re not gonna sleep if you finish the movie, right?”

“Alright, alright. I get it. Can we go to bed now?” Your shift in attitude compared to a few moments ago pulled a small chuckle out the tall male, something quite rare.

“Come on.” He said, helping you up off the couch as you kept the thick blanket wrapped around your frame. “Just promise me you won’t keep me up because you’re scared of something in that cheap movie coming to life…”

“Oh I’m not promising anything.” You said honestly.

Despite sparking you not to keep him up, the truth is Nagi wouldn’t mind staying up a bit longer as long as it was with you. He may complain in the morning when he’s even more tired, but he would never regret spending more time basking in your presence.

However, that’s only if you don’t spend the entire time blabbering in worry over something in a horror movie being real.

[atinystaypixie]

Mr. Baker Man

Summary: Your next door neighbor is the local baker. He's so sweet to offer you baking lessons. How did you get so lucky to have such an amazingly sweet and handsome neighbor?

WC: 3.7k+

CW: 18+ MDNI!!, Sex!, Unprotected Sex, Fingering, Reader gets drugged but not for sex, Nanami Kento, (kinda not proofread)

Pixie's Spooktober

The last few months have been hectic. It seemed that everything and anything bad that could happen did. It started when you discovered your boyfriend of four years had been sleeping with your best friend. The man who told you he loved you every chance he got and seemed that he couldn't spend a moment away from you was found laying in your bed with the woman you trusted everything with. Your day at work was already terrible only to be greeted with the moans of your best friend and lover ringing through the apartment. The apartment that you shared with your now ex-boyfriend. They didn't even feel remorse when they got caught either. It lead to you fucking up your nails and hands before kicking them both out.

You didn't have time to wallow in heartache because the next day you had to get up early to head to your nightmare of a job. Day in and day out you spent attending your job in a haze. The days blending together. It went on like this for a couple of months, nothing but going from home to work and repeating it all over again the next day. It was like that, until it wasn’t.

Your boss's never ending attitude and rudeness greeted you before you even made it through the doors. He seemed to pick you for his target of abuse for the day and was on your ass. The whole day he had been nitpicking at you over every fine detail. Whenever you moved, he had something to comment on. Your head was hurting and if you heard one more insult the police would need to be called. His endless words pushed you too far resulting in you snapping at him and giving him a long awaited cursing out. It resulted in you being fired and him having a drink thrown in his face.

After leaving the building and making it back to your empty apartment, a note is left on your door. The rent is being raised. The bills were barely getting paid with both you and your ex-boyfriend paying them, but now you would be homeless especially since you were jobless now. A heavy sigh left your lips as you opened the door and kicked off your shoes. The shuffling of your feet filled the silence in the air as you entered your bedroom. You plop onto your bed with a huff. Today's events flowing through your head. It's weighing on your shoulders how you're losing everything. Life is taking a toll on you, you just need someone to talk to. An idea pops in your head to call your favorite aunt. She was always understanding and great at advice and was the last family you have left after your parents passed a few years ago. She was the one to listen to you rant and cry when you caught your ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend together.

The phone dials and you wait for her to answer. It takes a minute and you expect her to pick up, but instead you are sent to voicemail. She usually never misses a chance to answer your call but it is late and she might be asleep at this hour. She lives in a different state so it is later where she is. You decide to let her rest and try her again in the morning. It was only you needing to release the struggles you have been feeling so if she is asleep there is no need to continuously call her phone. Another sigh escapes you and you decide to just turn in for the night. Sleep doesn’t come easily, but you eventually pass out due to exhaustion.

That sleep doesn’t last long however. Your ringtone pulls you awake from the restless dreamland you were in. You look at the clock and see it's too early for someone to be calling you. The ringing of your phone is blaring and making you squint from not being adjusted to being awake yet. Looking at the screen, you see the number is unfamiliar. With a groggy voice, you answer the unknown number expecting to be able to tell them they have the wrong number so they wouldn’t call again.

“Hello? I think-”

“Is this Y/n?” A voice speaks, stopping you from completing your sentence. It confuses you that they know your name considering the voice isn’t recognizable.

“That’s me.” Confusion is clear in your tone.

“Yes, hello. We have the phone of a patient here and you are the last contact that dialed. I am sorry to inform you, but the patient we have here is deceased.” A shaky gasps leaves you as you hope they aren’t talking about who you think they are. The last person you called was your aunt, no one else. After cutting ties with your boyfriend and best friend, no other calls were made on your phone. You ask the person on the phone to describe who they are speaking about. Your ears start to ring as they describe your beloved aunt in every detail. “--- Ma’am? Hello, ma’am? Are you there?” It didn’t register that their voice had faded into the background as your already shattered world crumbled into more pieces. All you knew was that your last source of peace was gone from this world.

Fast forward four months and here you are now. You moved into your aunt's house away from the state you lived in. She already had a will written and left everything to you in it. That woman was always prepared, even down to her unexpected death. The cause of death was linked to a health condition. She hadn't told you about it, but it caused her to crash her car while driving. They said they couldn't find her ID due to the excessive amount of debris.

The money you inherited helped you move here. It wasn't easy, but you adjusted to living in the lonely house. Quiet memories of the times you spent here with your aunt would walk the halls, but after the first month it got easier. Your neighbors were welcoming, and some even remembered you from your previous visits. There were a couple you had never seen before, but all were kind.

Just like the neighbor next door. He wasn’t living here the last time you visited, but you learned he ran a small bakery that was frequented by everyone. It was hard to believe he was a baker. His facial expressions and regular outfits were the total opposite of someone who ran such a warm, loving shop. When he spoke, it all made sense though. He was older than you and alway took his time when speaking to you. A man with much patience and attentiveness. You could call him anytime you needed help. Like when your water faucet broke, he had it fixed in an hour and even left you a basket of fresh biscuits.

To say you had lost everything, life had been better since you moved here. Even if it was under the circumstances of your aunt passing. The air was easier to breathe, your neighbors were absolute sweethearts, your job didn't work you to the bone and paid more. For once, in a long time, you didn't feel the weight of the world on your shoulders. And everyday, you get to go to the bakery and get a delicious snack before heading home.

"Hi, Nanami!" You joyfully greeted him as you do everyday, a normal part of your routine.

"Hello, Y/n." His deep voice and chiseled cheeks greeted you with a smile. "How was your day? Here for the usual?" Nanami Kento, a tall man with blonde hair. Unnaturally handsome and the best baker. His desserts weren't only sweet, but his visuals as well. Your heart fluttered each time you made eye contact with him.

"My day was good. Thank you for asking. How was yours?" Your hands fill with an assortment of pastries as you speak. Picking the ones you have been craving most for the day. Some sweet, some savory. "And yes, I can't skip getting my daily happiness." You place your items on the counter and grab a bottle of wine from the shelf.

Nanami continues the conversation with you as he starts ringing up your items. He neatly packs them in a bag as he goes. "I could alway teach you how to make a thing or two.” He kindly offers you.

The offer catches you off guard. Nanami was always gentle with you, but never had he openly invited you to do something with him. You were more cordial neighbors rather than close neighbors. A hello and small talks were often exchanged rather than in depth conversations. Sometimes only the nod of a head would be given. It was never anything involving the two of you spending time together.

A small smile forms on your lips, “You would do that? I would like that.”

"Great, let's meet here this weekend. I'll teach you how to make your favorite." He hands you your bag as you agree to your plans. You walk out the shop with excitement coursing through you. Although you and the handsome baker might not have had strong interactions before, he still found a way into your heart in these few months.

The trip back home is quick. His shop wouldn't take long to walk to from the neighborhood and you were in your car making the trip even shorter. You discard your shoes at the door and get comfortable. The television is on as you indulge in your sweets. You flip through the channels mindlessly until you get tired. Your eyes drift shut slowly pulling you into a satisfying sleep. The sleep makes you miss the news giving information that relates directly to the way your aunt passed.

You spend the rest of the week attending work. The week is busier than normal so you don't get to visit the bakery due to you working overtime. You're tired when you arrive home and usually head straight to sleep instead of going to visit the bakery. By the time the weekend comes, you had barely seen Nanami and were excited to be in his presence again. You pick a cute dress after spending time preparing. It wasn’t a date, but you still wanted to look cute in the presence of the man.

You decided to walk to the bakery since you didn’t have any other plans for the day. The short trip spent with you thinking about interacting with Nanami. The scent of pastries hit your nose before you even reach the shop. It was closer to closing time and the last few customers were leaving. You catch the door and enter. Nanami is cleaning off the counter when he looks up and sees you.

“You made it. I’m almost finished. Could you flip the sign to closed please.” His voice was calming and deep as he spoke. You do as he asks and walk up to the counter. He puts the cleaning supply away and leads you to the back where the kitchen is.

It didn't take long for him to get everything set up. He named all the ingredients to you and even gave you a cute chef's hat. His personality was shining through the longer he talked and it was cute to see. He was clearly passionate about baking and explained why certain ingredients were added before others.

"Do it like this. It's easier and better for the dough." He placed himself behind you. His breath hitting your ear, chest pressing to your back, and large hands clasping around yours to guide you. His body was warm. Too warm. It was taking over your mind as you felt his chest move as he helped press your hands to the dough.

Your heart starts beating faster the longer he stands behind you. A wet patch forming in your panties. He was so much bigger than you. It felt good being this close to a man again since you hadn't been near one after your breakup.

"Okay, now we can place it in the pan." His words break you from your thoughts. He grabs a pan and places the shaped dough in it. The tall man reaches for a knife and the size catches you off guard. It's wrapped in an interesting print protection. Nanami takes his time unraveling it.

"Why such a large knife?" You question curiously.

"I like this one. It feels better to use." He says casually and cuts a design into the dough. "Cutting it like this is how we get the design you always look at before you buy it." He states. You're surprised he noticed you did this. "This will take an hour to make."

Nanami places the large knife down and shows you the product of his skills. "Wow, you're really good. I would botch that." He gives a deep chuckle at your words as he wipes his hands off. He hands yours and does the same. Your eyes widen slightly.

"You know. You really have to stop looking at me like that." His voice dropped an octave and you make eye contact with him.

"W-what?"

"I see how you look at me. It's cute, really. Just makes me want to bend you over whenever you come in here." He eyes flicker to your lips as you take your bottom one between your teeth. You feel your face heating up at his close proximity again. The way he looms over you and runs his thumb over your knuckles.

"Please." A whimper leaves you and that's all it takes for him to grip your chin between and plant his lips on yours. His strong arm wraps around your waist before trailing his hand up your spine. It stops right at your zipper and starts to slowly drag it down. Kisses are trailed down your neck as he takes his time undressing you in the kitchen. He lifts you and places you on the counter, spreading your legs open for him to stand in between. His thumb rubs over your throbbing clit in circles. He eyes locks with your as your mouth falls open from his touch.

"I've barely touched you and you're dripping." You whine at his words and push your hips closer to his hand. He stops you with his other. "Take what I give you." He rubs up and down your slit, flicking your clit each time before he pushes two fingers inside of you. They make a come hither motion, rubbing your insides so well. Your eyes rolling back as you rock towards him as much as his strong grip allows you. His fingers slide in deeper and deeper rubbing at a spot that tickles your brain. Nanami watches you closely wanting to catch every gasp and moan from you.

"N-Nanami…mmmm…please. Feels so good." Your moans makes his pants tighten. His bulge grows the more your wetness coats his fingers. Your walls fluttering giving him the sign of you getting closer to your release. He leans in close to your ear again.

"You're only coming on my dick." He removes his fingers from your leaking hole and unzips his pants. His big. Length and girth. An airy laugh leaves him when he sees you eyeing his dick. He lifts his fingers that were just inside you to your lips.

"Open." You obey him immediately and take the digits in your mouth. Your tongue swirling around them tasting yourself. He pulls his digits out and strokes his dick with your spit lubing himself up before pressing his tip to your entrance. He didn't immediately enter you. He swipe his tip through your folds collecting your juices and circling your entrance. He did this a couple of times before you started whining for him again.

"Stop teasing me. Want you in me." It didn't take much more for you before he was thrusting into you. Filling you to the brim with every inch he had to offer. Your walls gripping onto him drawing a deep grunt out of the blonde haired man. He pulled your hips closer and started fucking into you.

Your nails caught his back scratching it as he hit deep inside of you. The stretch is much more than your ex ever gave you. He was hitting spots you didn't even know you had. Your moans were loud and long. Broken breaths accompanying them as you hid your face in his neck. Nanami didn't appreciate that.

"No, no. Let me hear you, pretty girl. Look at me when I'm fucking you." His hand gripped at your hair pulling your head back making you look at him. He wanted to hear everything. He wanted to know how good he was making you feel. The pretty girl who suddenly moved in next to him, the pretty girl who was always in his shop, the pretty girl who appreciated his pastries more than any of the neighbors.

"Nanami! Fuck! Nanami! Please! Please!" You didn't know what you were begging for. Your thoughts were only filled with him. How he was slipping in and out of you. The sounds your pussy made with each deep thrust. The sound of your bodies smacking together. He was undoubtedly the best dick you ever had and the drool sliding from the side of your lips was proof.

Nanami wipes a thumb across it, cleaning it up for you. "Such a messy thing. Fuck, you feel so good squeezing around me." Nanami balls tightened with each thrust. Your pussy so wet around him, milking him so well. The squelching sounds making him lose all control. His hips speeding up getting addicted to the warmth of your cunt. He leans in and takes your breasts in his hand. His tongue meeting your hard nipple, wetting it in his saliva. He feels you squeeze around him at that and keeps going. Seeing you in pleasure making his dick more sensitive in your walls.

You grip at his hair, threading your fingers through the strands. Your body shaking as you get closer to your intense orgasm. He's abusing your g-spot over and over. You can feel him in your stomach, your legs tingling from the pleasure. Nanami is relentless. His thumb meets your swollen clit again. Your voice is loud as you scream.

"Too much! Too much! I can't take it!" You're trying to move away from him. The constant licking and sucking on your nipples, the drag of his thumb on your clit, his dick pushing in and out your sensitive walls.

You can't even warn him before you're cumming. Your release coming in strong, making your eyes roll back. Your voice caught in your throat as your pussy pushes out your cum. You can feel your core tightening and untightening with each ragged breath you take. Your mind is blank as you can only feel pleasure. You tense up and then relax after some seconds.

It's then when you feel oversensitivity kicking in. Nanami hasn't stopped thrusting into you. You're pushing at his hips, not even able to speak. You're going to cum again. It's too soon. You can't take it.

"You can do it. You can give me another one. Just cum for me, pretty girl." Nanami was talking you through it. His voice trying to hold steady through his own moans and grunts. The fluttering of your walls bringing him closer to his own release. "Come on. Do it. Cum for me again."

You didn't think it was possible for this to happen. You've never cum this quickly again. Your pussy grips onto him as your release washes over you. His name leaving your lips like a chant. He fucks you through your second orgasm. Your body goes limp in his arms as you coat his dick in more of your cum.

Nanami works you through it, rubbing at your clit still helping you release all of your cum. He feels you relaxing again and pulls his dick out stroking it quickly. Your pussy enough to have him weak in the knees. With a grunt he is releasing on your cunt. The white substance spurting out covering you. His breathing heavy and head thrown back as he cums. "Fuccckkk!" His voice is raspy when he cums. It has your sensitive walls fluttering.

You both are spent. Chests heaving up and down from the intense orgasms you both just had. Nanami leans close to you again and leaves kisses on your lips. "You were so good." Just as he says this the timer on the oven dings. A smile returns to his lips. "Here. You like these." He hands you one of the candies you always eat from the shop. He really has remembered so much about you. Before he goes to the oven, he wets a towel and gently cleans you up. "I didn't expect to fuck you here tonight. But I'm not complaining." You giggle at his words, still tired and recovering from the intense fucking. Sit here and rest. I'll go take care of the bread."

Nanami leaves you his jacket to cover you up while he attends to the bread. You hear his footsteps walking away. They are echoing loudly. Too loudly. The sound almost giving you a headache. You're tired. Your body is lagging. You try speaking but the words don't come out. Something's wrong.

You go to stand up and stumble. You can't get your footing. It's not a post-sex struggle, this feels weird. Your vision is unfocused and you grip at the counter. You accidentally knock over a jar labeled flour. It shatters into pieces and you are about to attempt to apologize when you realize it wasn't flour spilled on the floor.

A collection of licenses are on the floor and among them a familiar face.

"Tsk, tsk. Now why did you have to go and do that?" You stumble to the floor. The license closer to your face now. The license of your aunt to be specific. You look at Nanami and see his expression harden. He brushes a strand of hair out of your face. "Why didn't you just sit like I told you?"

That's the last thing you hear. The drugged candy taking over your system before you could say anything else.

✨

Thoughts of a Slutty Virgin ~ 🧚🏽‍♀️

I MADE IT! FIRST SPOOKTOBER FIC OUT!! YAAAY! Hope yall like this. I was nervous lol. HAPPY FRIDAY THE 13TH! MWAHHAHAHA

Pixie's Masterlist

Taglist: @444ghosty @un-lawliet @witchbybirth @tophamhat-kyo @nobianna

[tellmealovestory]

Apple Cider

Summary: First dates are supposed to be fun. So why's this one such a disaster?

Warnings: 3k words of second hand embarrassment and an awkward reader and Eddie.

Spooktober Masterlist

“You’re being a dingus. Ask her out already or I will,” Robin threatens as she flips through a magazine she’s barely interested in, but it’s better than watching you and Eddie steal glances at each other across the store. 

Eddie leans his elbows on the counter, head hanging in his hands as he sighs. “Not that simple. She could say no. She could already have a boyfriend. She could think-”

“That you're a creep coming in here every day staring at her and not saying a word to her?” Robin asks unhelpfully as she glances up from her magazine just long enough to catch the glare Eddie is giving her. 

Halfway across the store as you’re trying to help a nasally voiced man pick out a selection of movies you can hear their conversation. Neither one of them understands the definition of indoor voices or private conversations and if you weren’t so polite or so afraid of talking to Eddie for fear of making an idiot out of yourself you’d tell them to shut up. 

This is a place of work after all. Sure, the store is empty save for the four of you, but that’s not the point. Your lack of a dating life isn’t up for discussion in front of strangers or your crush. 

“I guess this will do,” the man says as if he’s disappointed you couldn’t be more help trying to find a movie that was scary, but not too scary, but that had a little bit of gore, but not so much gore it would make his date queasy, but it also had to be recent, nothing old or black and white. 

While he carries his selections up to the counter and Robin checks out the movies for him you pretend to busy yourself with straightening the vhs cases while occasionally glancing over at Eddie still hanging around the counter.

The bell over the door rings signaling his exit and when no one else comes in Robin calls you over. Your throat is drier than sandpaper and your feet feel like they’re encased in blocks of cement as you slowly make your way to the counter. 

“Dingus here wants to ask you, but he’s too scared to, so I'm doing it for him.”

“Robin,” Eddie seethes with anger as your own voice melds with him chastising her for this inappropriate behavior. 

“What?” she asks, not having the gall to look the slightest bit embarrassed despite Eddie’s pink cheeks and your refusal to look at either of them instead choosing to stare down at your shoes which suddenly look interesting to you. “Eddie the dingus here will pick you up tomorrow after your shift. You guys can go to the fall carnival and I don’t know trying talking to each other for once.”

“Robin,” you start, voice shaking as you dare a few peeks at Eddie through your lashes. He looks just as mortified as you do at this new development. “You can’t just… you can’t do something like that.” 

Eddie’s heart sinks to his stomach when he catches you flinching and he naturally assumes it’s because you don’t actually like him because after all why would the town sweetheart go for someone like the town freak? 

Robin waves away your concerns, shoos Eddie out the door, but not before yelling at him what time your shift is over. 

He stays on your mind for the rest of the day and night and even into the next day. When your shift ends and he still hasn’t arrived to pick you up for the date Robin arranged you figure he’s not showing. A mix of disappointment and anger settle in the pit of your stomach and as you slip your vest off and grab your purse beneath the counter the bell over the door jingles and Robin is whistling lowly. 

You figure it’s just Steve so you don’t bother to look up as you root around for your car keys. She nudges you and says in a too loud whisper because she still doesn’t know what indoor voices mean, “loverboy is here.” 

You glance up and true to her word there stands Eddie, hands shoved deep in his pockets, black tee shirt and jean jacket on, unruly hair pulled back into a low bun, cheeks flushed and sheepish smile on his face.

Instantly, you regret cursing him out in your mind for thinking he wasn’t going to show. Sure, he was a little late, but he did show up and now that he’s here, standing on the other side of the counter watching you it’s like you’ve forgotten every word you’ve ever known. 

Robin leans her elbow on the counter watching you too and she can’t help but shove you towards him. Her push is harder and you stumble, having to catch yourself on the counter so you don’t stumble into him like a bowling ball hitting a set of pins. 

“Have fun you two!” She shouts, “and remember, talk to each other!” 

Once outside in the warm sunshine you finally find the words to speak, but when you do your voice is soft and you’re worried he can’t hear you. “I’m so sorry about her. We don’t have to do this. Go to the carnival. Or even out. I mean… I know she kind of pushed you into this…” 

“No,” he says quickly, finally pulling his hands out of his pockets. He plays with his keys, jingling them as the silver glints in the bright sunshine. “I want to. Less you don’t want to.” 

“No!” Your shout of no is even quicker and louder than his and you duck your head down in embarrassment before repeating the word again, softer this time while assuring him you want this. Turning your head to the side and over your shoulder you see Robin joined with Steve now standing at the  window of Family Video mouthing what you think are the words ‘go’ and ‘talk’ while Robin points to the van and Steve is making kissing faces.

Eddie smiles and it helps to ease a little bit of your nerves of whatever this is, a first date, a hang out, a friendly trip to the fall carnival. “You uh wanna go then?” He lifts the keys up and jingles them again and when you nod your head you’re surprised to find him opening the passenger door van for you. It’s such a simple and kind gesture, but it sends your heart galloping and your feelings for him to intensify. 

He slides into the van and starts it up and your ears nearly burst with how loud he has the music playing. “Shit, shit, shit, sorry, I know it’s loud,” he mutters as if he can read your mind. His long fingers are fumbling over the buttons on the stereo and instead of turning the volume knob down he cranks it up even louder as the banging of drums and cymbals clashes like you’re sitting front row at a metal concert. “Fuck.” He jabs the on/off button and you’re plunged into total silence save for the sound of his heavy breathing.

He offers another apology as he scrubs a hand over his face and mutters, “maybe we’ll just keep that off, yeah?” 

You giggle and tell him sure because truthfully his music taste isn’t the same as yours and you’re hoping that in the silence you can take Robin’s advice and talk.

But the drive to the festival is silent save for a few curses from Eddie when someone cuts him off in traffic and then again when he takes a wrong turn to the grounds and ends up on a muddy road that he nearly gets the vans tires stuck in. 

Once he manages to get where he’s supposed to and parks he opens your door again and your heart picks back up that happy rhythm it had when he did it the first time.

Beginning a leisurely stroll towards the entrance gate there’s enough space between your bodies to have another couple standing between you. For the life of you you aren’t sure how close you’re supposed to stand to him and something so simple that most people don’t think about shouldn’t be stressing you out this much. Stand close enough to hold hands? To have his jean jacket rubbing against your soft sweater? To have his arm slung around your shoulders? Why is it so complicated? 

While your mind is turning over that question your other senses become overwhelmed when you enter the festival grounds. Screams are emitted from some of the carnival rides, couples and families walk around with oversized teddy bears in their arms, kids run around playing tag. And the smells. Oh, the smells are enough to make your mouth water and your stomach to grumble.

Corn on the cob is being sizzled to perfection on grills. Cinnamon and apples and every deep fried food imaginable is being cooked to perfection from red and white striped tents. Hamburgers and brats are being served to hungry customers and you even smell what you think are greasy onion rings and french fries.

There’s a little something for everyone here. 

Booths with lines around the corner for face paintings and a fortune teller, a big wooden barrel where a few people are bobbing for apples, balloon dart games, even a few businesses handing out cards and offering promotions. 

“Have you ever been here before?” you ask, eyes scanning and trying to take everything in.

“Naw. Not really my scene,” he says with a simple shrug of his shoulders, but when he sees your face fall he silently curses himself for saying something so stupid. “But uh I’m glad to be here with you.” 

It sounds forced to your ears and you’re about to tell him that you can leave, go find something else to do or maybe just call this a day because nothing seems to be working out. 

Instead of doing that though you continue the walk through checking out the booths and the rides and because it’s more crowded here than in the parking lot you’re both forced a little closer together. Each time his arm or elbow or leg brushes up against yours you get a little jolt of electricity that you try to tamp down because you’re still not sure if he even likes you or wants to be here with you. 

A group of rowdy kids screams red rover as they barrel into you causing you to stumble and nearly trip a few feet in front of Eddie. Not your finest move, but at least you didn’t fall flat on your face. 

He touches your shoulder gently and when you turn around his eyes are wide, cheeks flushed a little deeper pink, reminiscent of a gorgeous summer sunset and when he drops his hand he starts gesturing to your body. You glance down and don’t see any dirt or food on the front of your skirt and sweater, but his hand gestures are growing more urgent, lowering down and you still have no clue what he’s trying to tell you. 

“You uh… those kids…” he swallows thickly before just blurting it out. “You’ve got some cotton candy uh behind you.” 

It takes your brain a few seconds to figure out what he’s trying to tell you, but when you slide your hands down your lower back and to your butt your fingers come away with sticky pastel cotton candy. “Oh my god,” you whisper as your cheeks heat up and you frantically try to push it all away, but it’s so much stickier than when you remember as a kid and it seems like with each sweep of your fingers and hands all you’re doing is creating a bigger mess.

You don’t want to, but you slowly turn around so your back is to him and glance over your shoulder. “Is it all gone?” 

His knitted eyebrows and mouth turn down into a frown that tells you no, not exactly. 

“Can I uh? Do you mind?” Again with the hand gestures. His silver rings glint in the sunshine and you nod your head. The first touch of his hands against your lower ass makes you jump and flinch and he steps back, hands in the air in surrender and once again you’re feeling stupid and naive. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you say quickly, head hanging down, wondering if you should tell him this is your first date and you’ve barely even kissed a guy so it’s just a little strange for one to be brushing your ass. 

There’s a food vendor a few feet away and you stomp over to grab probably more napkins than you need as you try to rub at the sticky mess, but you’re only spreading it wider and you’re close to tears because seriously how much worse can this day get before you shove a wad in his hands. “Can you help, please?” 

“Yeah, yeah, just uh, hold still, kay?” This time you’re more prepared for his touches. They’re gentle, methodical and though it’s not perfect he’s managed to pick off most of the cotton candy. With your back still turned to him you quickly wipe at your eyes as he tosses the napkins in the garbage. 

You resume your walking in silence with a few stolen glances here and there, a few times you both get jostled together by impatient people frustrated at your slow pace. 

Stopping in front of a drink tent your mouth waters when you inhale the spice of cinnamon and apples. Reaching in your purse for your wallet Eddie beats you to it, grabbing his own as he pays for two cups of piping hot cider. 

“You didn’t have to-” 

“I don’t mind-”

You’re both trying to talk over one another and it’s not working and so you give up, choosing instead to offer him a small smile as thank you. 

The paper cup is hot against your palms, but it still feels nice against the slight chill that’s entered the air. There’s an empty bench up ahead and Eddie nods his head towards it and you agree. Glancing down at the seat to make sure there’s nothing else that can be spilled on your outfit you perch on the edge, blow on the cider before taking a slow sip as you let out a quiet moan. 

Eddie nearly chokes on his own sip when he hears you because he was not expecting that to come out of your mouth and now that he has he can’t stop staring at you and jesus Robin was right he’s being a downright creep. It’s a miracle you agreed to this set up. 

For a few moments you both bask in each other's company and in the festivities that are going on around you, but it doesn’t take long for even this peaceful moment to be broken by the buzzing of a wasp. 

“Shit,” Eddie mutters. He’s not scared of too many things, but wasps? Fuck those devil monsters. He swats it away, but it’s still buzzing around first by his cup of apple cider and then closer to yours. You don’t notice it and when you lift the cup up to your mouth he acts first, thinks later. 

His large hand swats the cup out of your hand, still hot cider splashing down around by your feet, the cup yards away from you. You’re shocked, mouth hanging open, eyes blinking dumbly at him and as if to somehow make up for what he just did or because he’s an awkward idiot who’s hopeless around pretty girls he also throws his cup to the ground. 

The wasp that had been buzzing around you both is now distracted by the spilled sugary drink and it’s then that you notice it, but that still doesn’t explain his behavior and the silence is stretching on and oh my god how much worse could this date get? 

“Sorry,” he mutters and he at least has the decency to look a little embarrassed for tossing your drinks to the ground. “Wasps scare the shit out of me.” He ends it with a little chuckle and despite how awful the day has been you’re soon joining in and giggling with him as you hang your head in your hands. 

“They scare me too,” you admit softly before adding, “I didn’t even see it. Or hear it. And to think I almost drank it!” You give a little shudder at just how close that thing was to your mouth and sure, maybe it was a little dramatic the way Eddie chose to deal with it, but given the way your day has been going it fits in. 

“Naw, I’d never have let you drink it,” he says, giving you a lopsided smile and for a few seconds you think maybe this could be salvaged, but when the damn demon wasp finishes with the spilled cider it makes another go at the two of you and Eddie is quick to jump up with you following his lead as you make another loop around the carnival grounds.

Tugging at the sleeve of your sweater you sigh and glance at him. “Maybe that’s a sign we should cut this date short.” You don’t want to, but nothing seems to be going right and as your words hang in the air you realize what you just said and you’re staring at him with an open mouth and wide eyes as you try to clarify. “Not that… I mean I’m not sure this was even a date? I know it was kind of forced on us and I guess I always thought that a first date was supposed to be nice and not one disaster after another. It’s been memorable though.”

“I’d call it a date,” he says, giving you an easy smile. “Right? Always hoped I’d be more smooth with the ladies, but I guess that didn’t happen today.” He looks so different now, shoulders relaxed, another smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You were a complete gentleman, Eddie.” 

“Even when I was touching your a-”

You don’t give him a chance to finish that sentence as your cheeks burn hot and you giggle. “Yes, even then.” 

A few more minutes pass with a silence that’s not nearly as awkward as it was at the beginning of the day. And this time when he speaks you can practically hear the smile in his voice. 

“So we both agree this was a date?” He doesn’t give you time to stumble and stutter or apologize your way through a response before he’s talking again, this time it’s a little slower and the smile isn’t as prominent in his words. “That mean you, uh maybe wanna try this again another time?” 

Your heart swells and balloons and you can’t keep the smile off your face no matter how hard you try and you don’t want to appear too eager and scare him off, but if nothing about today has scared him off you don’t think this will either as you all but shout out a yes please. 

Eddie can’t quite believe his ears when you agree so quickly and he wants to pinch himself because there’s a part of him that still believes after the disaster of today you’d want a redo, but the smile on your face and your bright eyes indicate otherwise. His fingers inch a little closer to yours in front of the merry go round, but he doesn’t try to grab your hand, not yet at least, instead he lets his fingers rest next to yours as you both watch the happy couples and families enjoy the fair while he plots out what he hopes is a better second date. 

A/N: If you enjoyed reading about these two they'll be back in Hayride!

[hirsheyskisses]

Hello!! Your spooky event looks so fun! Do you think I could get 1. "You're shivering. Are you really that scared?" + 6 with Eustass Kid? Thank you so much I look forward to seeing what spooky ideas you come up with!!

Don't be a Coward!

Spooktober (2023) Event 👻🎃

EUSTASS KID x READER

Summary: being foolish, fresh put of your teens, Kidd decided to take things a step up for halloween, going to explore a 'haunted' mall.. (also yes, the pun in this story was intended)

Kidd has ALWAYS loved Halloween. Ever since the two of you had been kids, he'd dress up as either the spookiest or coolest shit (often times both) and always insisted on helping you with your costume.

A lot of Halloween often ended with kidd and killer looking absolutely terrifying, where your costumes were often- badass. Dresses that lit on fire, exploding suits, or real life villain energy

But, where they loved horror.. and creepiness.. You'd rather not! You'd really rather not fuck with ouija boards, or go into haunted malls, or fuck with ghosts..

But kidd.. well, you're dating the man..

"I really don't think this is a good idea." You stated for the umpteenth time, being rewarded with another long sigh from your lover. "You're being a wuss. It's just rumors-"

Kidd grumbled, grabbing your hand and lifting you up to the window he'd just shattered, holding you by your sides. Hesitating for a moment before sliding through, attempting not to step on glass, you turned, "thats not the point! Well.. it's part of the point, but we're breaking an entering! Yaknow, doing the thing that's against the law!"

Watching him land beside you, he snorted. "Since when were you so concerned about the law? You broke a guy's jaw for catcalling."

Kidd began to walk, his eyes eager and- to some extent, childish. "He was following me and had it coming, would you rather I have let him take me?" You shot back, to which Kidd tensed a bit. "Never said it was a bad thing. I'm just sayin', it was still against the law." He muttered, a hand snaking behind your back to pull you at his side. Surprisingly, the mall wasn't too scary: trashed, sure, but with a man who cleared 6' it wasn't- entirely terrifying.

"Well.. that scenario shouldn't be against the law." You responded, and you also knew he agreed: Kid loved any excuse to beat down am asshole. Even if he was bit of one himself, he still held some semblance of respect.

The mall was dark, and as you went further in, the light became less and less, until you were squinting to see and cautiously stepping down to ensure you didn't step on anything. Your redheaded boyfriend, on the other hand, didn't hesitate. Instead, he walked with pure confidence, head swiveling from side to side. "I expected more from a haunted mall. This shots boring." He grumbled, glancing back at you. "Yeah.. I guess." You mumbled, focused less so on him and instead chose to peer into the open stores, finding knocked over shelves and ransacked compartments, slowly moving towards an old book store. Grabbing your phone and flicking on the flashlight, you began to move between the shelves, occasionally grabbing at a abandoned, dusty book. Surprisingly, there was a lot of them remaining: and in fairly good condition, too. A few classics, and a few of your old favorites you'd occasionally come across. You'd been there for a few minutes..

"Hey! Kidd! Look at this o-"

You finally lifted your head as you found an old book on mechanic work he'd wanted, only to realize one thing: Kidd was nowhere to be found. You could've sworn he'd been right behind you the entire time- you'd heard his lumbering footsteps!

He's probably just in another store.. you decided, making to exit the library with the book still in your arms. Now that you were alone, you were overly conscious just how big the mall was. Every step you took left you uneasy, swearing you heard footsteps behind you- swore you heard voices, but no- eyes in the darkness, impossible, yet everytime you tried to counter the strange chills you got you just felt worse.

You'd wandered for a few minutes, peering into stores, and growing increasingly worried. What if he'd had a heart attack?! Or what if he'd gotten kidnapped? So much could've gone wrong- yet-

- yet the moment you were shoved against the wall, you had no time to worry about him.

A blood curdling screech ripped its way out of your lungs and you raised the book, fully prepared to slam it into your attackers body and book it- only for your wrists to be pinned to the wall. Your knee prepared to buck upwards, but a deep, growly voice sounded in your ear.

"You're shaking, mouse. Are you really that scared?"

His hot breath fanned against your neck as you almost melted, "k-kidd?! Where'd you go-" your voice was breathless, and Kidd chuckled, pressing his face into your neck. "Was never far.. don't gotta worry so much, mouse. I won't let shit hurt you."

[v1nsmoke]

𝑯𝑶𝑼𝑺𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑫 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑫𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑯 // 𝑽𝑰𝑵𝑺𝑴𝑶𝑲𝑬 𝑺𝑨𝑵𝑱𝑰 𝑿 𝑽𝑨𝑴𝑷!𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹

spooktober week 2 - resident evil 8 x one piece, featuring sanji and vampire reader

tw: bl00d, mentions of torture, spoilers for sanjis wci backstory, can the end be taken as slight angst?

summary: after getting teleported to an unknown village, sanji must find a place to stay - and unfortunately for him, the old castle he found is already taken

a/n: no use of y/n. re8 is my comfort game ever since i first played it. the characters are all interesting and i wish the game was longer with us getting to know more abt them. i thought why not write a story where reader is a dimitrescu. if you havent played re8, i highly recommend! even if its titled as a horror game, its not that creepy :)

tags: @cheesesoda cause i know you like both one piece and re ♡ (sorry if u didnt want to be tagged!)

wc: 2.4k

He didn't know where he was. It all happened so fast. In one moment he was up against a weird devil fruit user, and in the other, he was laying in the cold, white snow. Sanji gets up into a sitting position, supporting himself up with his hands. He looks around, observing the terrain around him. It seemed like a village, surrounded by snow-covered mountains. The wooden houses gave him the feeling that this wasn't the most modern place he's ever been to, but it was beautiful. One thing bothered him though: there was nobody.

He found it weird that noone was here, he couldn't hear any noise from the houses either. No happy kids playing in the snow, no old people chatting away on the benches, nothing. Sanji gets up, curious where everyone went. Does anybody even live here anymore? Or is this just a long forgotten inhabited village, and that's why it all seems like he was thrown back in time?

Not knowing where to go, Sanji mindlessly roams the area in hopes of finding someone or something that could help him out. He trusted his crew and that they will get him back somehow, he wasn't worried about that. He knew that there was nothing he could do about the situation, given he didn't even know where he was. But he needed food and shelter until the others find a way to reunite, and in a village he is likely to find these.

Sanji knew that there was something wrong with the village. He would ocassionally see remains of blood splatters on the walls, or broken windows and doors. Maybe he was right, this is an abandoned village. But the blood seemed like it's been there for only a day, meaning that there might be survivors of whatever is going on here.

One thing catches his eye: a giant castle on the side of the village. He could see some faint light from the windows, even if the castle was far from him, meaning that somebody is likely living there. Should he go there armed? No, he got his legs and wits, and he couldn't find a weapon anyway. He stands in front of the grand, stone gate in front of him, the castle on the other side of it. Sanji takes a deep breath, and pushes it open.

He steps trough it, findig a snow-covered trail surrounded by leafless trees, a carriage a few metres away from him parked on the side.

"I've been waiting for you, Mister Vinsmoke." A man speaks, sitting in the carriage, dressed in Victorian-era clothing.

"How do you know my name?" Sanji stops in front of him, curious how a strange man he never met knows his name.

"Blackleg Sanji, the Wing of Strawhat Luffy. I tend to know lots of things, Mister Vinsmoke. The word from the village is proven to be the truth, then. Though I must say, that castle arouses suspicion."

"Yeah, and so do you."

Sanji didn't like how this seemingly merchant knew things about him and called him by his father's name. He preferred to go by Blackleg, the name coming from his real father's, Red Leg Zeff.

"And who do you might be?" He inquires.

"I am but a humble merchant." The man chuckles.

"Here?"

"Forgive my manners. Call me the Duke." He finally introduces himself. Sanji didn't fully trust this man.

"Earlier you said that the castle arouses suspicion. What did you mean by that?"

"That place is full of nothing but blood and death. Nobody ever comes back from there. It's under the management of Lady Dimitrescu." The Duke explains.

"Lady Dimitrescu?" Sanji murmurs to himself. A castle under a woman's rule? Maybe this place isn't so bad after all... "Thank you for your help."

Sanji walks away after this, heading towards the castle. Now he was even more curious about it. Does the castle look more modern on the inside? Who is Lady Dimitrescu? Could he live here until the crew defeats the devil fruit user and he can get back to them? He was hoping that this woman will be kind enough to give him some ingredients to cook and a room where he can sleep. The castle was big anyway, she probably wouldn't mind if he stayed there for a bit.

Here he was, at the castle's entrance. Sanji gupled as he opened the door, trying to be as quiet as possible. He closes them behind himself as quietly as he opened them, and makes its way further into the castle. He was amazed by the interior. The floor was clean, the shiny wooden planks and the sole of his dress shoes creating a clicking noise as he explores the hallways. The walls were a dark shade of green, with some brownish-crimson wood elements, it all looked straight out of a tale.

He stumbles upon the main hall. His eyes widen at the sight. The room is illuminated by the light of the candles placed on the huge chandelier, a large, intricated staircase leading to the second floor while the white tiles shine on the floor. Sanji is mesmerized, findig the whole setting elegant. He was suddenly snapped out of his trance by a voice behind him.

"Who are you?! And what are you doing here?!" Sanji turns around to find a fuming girl standing there, dressed in an all black dress, the hood of it on her head, her eye makeup matching the colour of her outfit.

Sanji froze. He didn't expect this.

"A-are you Lady Dimitrescu?" He shakily asks.

"No, but if she finds out you're here, you'll end up just like all the other men. Same if my sisters find you. They have a lot less self control than I do..." the girl approaches Sanji.

~○~

You stare at the man in front of you, his slightly dissheveled blonde hair covering one of his eyes, the black suit he was wearing perfectly fitting him.

"What do you mean by that, ma cherie?" He asks.

"Mother hates men. And just intruders in general." You tell him, remembering what happened to the last person who entered the castle. Your mom did seem to like the wine made from his blood.

"I-I mean no harm, I promise! I just need cooking materials, and I was wondering if I could sleep here? Please, I'll make food for you, just let me stay for a bit. Just until I can get back to my crew!" He begs, holding your hands together.

You wanted to decline, to send him away before your mother or one of your sisters find him, or before you end up killing him yourself. But he looked at you with such kind eyes, and it seemed like he wasn't scared of you at all. Did he not know anything? About who or what you were? That you could tear his throat out any second? He was holding your hands so gently, like you could break at any moment, staring at you with his cerulean eyes.

"I can't. You came to the worst place possible, run while you can." You break free from his touch, turn around and head back to the direction where you came from. It was for the best. If he stays, he'll just get tortured and killed.

"No, please, I-" he starts, but can't find the right words to finish. So, he just stood there, not moving a muscle, waiting for you to change your mind.

"Who is this manthing?" You hear an all too familiar voice behind you. You turn around, only to see the man with wide eyes, your mother looming over him. Of course she did, she was eight foot tall. This was the end for the man, you knew it. But he did nothing wrong, and he just felt different, you can't just hand him over to your mother.

"What have I told you about men?" Her voice was menacing, and if looks could kill, you would be dead right now.

"I know mother, and I apologise. I stumbled upon him by accident." You explain.

~○~

Sanji didn't flinch. He didn't move, he froze. He didn't turn around to see who or what was behind him, he could feel the presence and see the huge shadow created by the person. His mind was going a million ways, not even being able to focus on the conversation you were having with who he assumed was your mother. One thing he did notice was how your expression changed when you saw her, how you looked so... afraid. Did this woman behind him do something wrong to you? Your complete aura changed, it was noticable. He knew that there's no way he'll fight a woman, and he also knew that the crew won't be here to save him this time. This might be the end for him. He feels as the woman behind him breathes down his neck, then suddenly bites into it.

Sanji grunts, the teeth of the woman deep in his throat. He didn't know what was going on. Is this how he's going to die? No, because the woman pulled back, and he was still alive, standing, breathing, and he could still feel as his heart was beating in his chest. He could hear the two women talking, but his mind was too out of its place to understand what the conversation was about. And that was the last thing he knew before fainting.

~○~

He woke up, chained to the wall in some unkown room. The quiet cracklig of the fireplace gave him a slight comfort, but the pain wouldn't go away. He had to figure out an escape plan, quick. He tried to wiggle himself out the handcuffs, but to no avail.

Just then, a bunch of flies flooded the room, all in the same spot until the seemed to merge together, forming a human-like figure.

"Didn't know you could do that..." he quietly says.

"There are so many things you don't know about me, Vinsmoke Sanji." The girl from earlier says.

"How do you know my name? My manners seemed to dissapear when we first met, i apologise."

"The Duke. He sometimes pays us a visit. He was here this morning while you were here, passed out."

"Well, I didn't even ask you your name, ma cherie. I'm Sanji, I'll get you out of here in no time." Sanji smiles down at her.

"Hm, to me it looks like you're the one who needs to be saved." She looks up at Sanji, who was still chained to the wall. She was right.

"I guess you're not here to save me. Going to bite?" He asks.

"I could. I warned you about my mother and sisters, you didn't listen. Look where it got you."

"What will they do with me? A bunch of pretty ladies sucking all my blood out? It's a better way to go than some I can imagine."

"Don't worry, it's gonna be quicker than that. And a lot more painful. Mother said you'd make some pretty good wine."

"I can in fact make wines, if that's what you wish for."

"Not like that."

"Oh."

The awkward silence set in before being broken by the girl's sigh as she took steps towards Sanji.

"What are you doing, cherie?"

"You want to die here? You mentioned that you got a crew somewhere. Think about them at least." She says, her hands on Sanji's handcuff holding him to the wall. He feels as the first handcuff loosens, and he pulls out his hand from it, looking at the girl in disbelief.

Both handcuffs fell off Sanji's hand, freeing him. He was speechless. This girl that he met yesterday, the one whose mother possesed major hatred towards men and the person who tied him up like this, who could end his life right in this moment just saved his life.

"I don't want to leave you here. Please, come with me. I can see you're not happy here with her." He holds his hand out for the girl to grab, but she doesn't do it. Instead, she looks down, and Sanji knows he was right. She really didn't like it here.

"I... I can't." She holds back her tears, her nails digging into her palm. "A few seconds in the cold air, and I freeze to death. And I mean I turn into a literal ice sculpture and die. I'm not a human like you. I might even end up causing you harm. You felt what my mother did to you. She's a vampire, and so am I."

Sanji is quiet for a few seconds. He doesn't know how to reply. He didn't want to leave her here to suffer under her mother, especially knowing that he could've done something about it.

"That's not a problem. I'll keep you warm if that's what is holding you back. I trust you that you won't bite me. You could've done it the moment we met, but you didn't. I don't care if you are a vampire, we have stranger people on the crew than that. Maybe our talking reindeer could even help you so that you won't freeze to death when it's cold."

She was stunned. This man she met yesterday spoke so kindly to her like nobody ever did before. Not her mother, not her sisters, nobody. She wanted to go, to join the crew, to be free, to know Sanji better, maybe the other crew members too. Talking reindeer? She was interested. She only knew the definition of "friends" from books she was forbidden to read, but now she could have the chance to experience what it's like.

"I... I'm just an experiment, I..." she tries to protest, holding back tears. She wanted to leave, really, but her mother wouldn't approve this. She never got to experience life outside the castle, or see what was outside the walls.

"Looks like we have something in common, then." Sanji warmly smiles. He knew what it felt like. "But now I have a loving crew, and most of the times I forget this part of my past. You can do it, too." He gives reassuring smile. He can't leave her here.

He was right. She lived here so long, the village reminding her every day of the reason of her existence, that she's just the product of some crazy scientist woman's experiments. But now she can leave this behind. Just like Sanji did.

She looks down at Sanji's hand, still held out for her. This time, she places hers into the blonde's, ready to leave.

vinsmoke sanji belongs to eiichiro oda and resident evil 8 belongs to capcom, i do not own any of these.

© v1nsmokes 2023. Do not modify, translate or rewrite.

[seneon]

𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒' 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

would anyone believe that a soul with devilish eyes would be buried? moreover, that soul has devilish ancestors. everything is devilish about him. but one thing is for sure, he had the gaze of the darkest secrets, eating everything away.

RAYNE X FEMALE! READER 🎬 tw: gore and eye gouging A/N — the eight piece. hey guys if you didn't know i absolutely love rayne ames

there was once a girl who struck a deal with the devil, an ames devil. that the devil would help her get her revenge and she would pay him with her soul. little did she knew, that same devil had taken a liking to her and eventually bailed on the deal, claiming her as his.

could rayne ames be any more different than his ancestor who impregnated a human girl? rayne is human, with the eyes of his devil ancestor. that is one thing that stood rayne out a lot to the world. he became afraid of his eyes and hide them behind soft golden honey contacts.

what would rayne ames do when a girl takes an interest in his eyes?

an interest as in, obsessive interest. the kind that would sweetened her words and coat them with honey just to shower rayne's eyes with lovely compliments.

that is who y/n is. a student who studies so much anatomy that everything about body parts of anything interesting about a body part is a catch for her. as for rayne, his catch is his eyes. his honey, golden eyes that had shadow behind them. she wanted to find out what lies behind it.

so you mustered up all of your life courage, and gripped the silver weapon in your hand. then, you stabbed stabbed stabbed and stabbed.

it were okay strikes. nothing to die for and nothing to be worried about. there is no blood yet. you've only used the ends of an ice cream scooper to do so. the fun part comes up next.

before rayne could react to the sudden shock, you opened his eyelids and began gouging his eyes out with the ice cream scooper. the male wasn't even screaming. he was just there, allowing you to dig, pluck and gouge his eyes out.

honestly, it was a dream come true for him. there was someone that finally loved and appreciated his eyes and not call him what his ancestor was. he was going to do it himself if no one was going to do it anyways. so what's the point in fighting back?

"your eyes... your beautiful devil eyes, rayne... i love them so much. they're the perfect fit for my self-made human!!" you exclaimed, the gouged-out eyeballs in the palm of your hands, blood staining your fingertips as the unmoving body of rayne laid below you.

ah yes.

rayne has forgotten that he has some kind of superpower that runs in his family. he could just kill you in a snap. but he decided to slap your face, detaching your neck from your spine before he sits up and blinked.

was there a reason to hate his eyes? they were a gift, his mother tells him everytime. it is something his brother didn't have too, so he should be considered lucky and above all human beings and souls.

at first, his devils eyes are meant to be hated.

grave seven 🪦 spooktober graveyard series | NEXT

© SENEON OCT 17th 2023 | 8th PIECE OF S. GRAVEYARD.

[seijorhi]

Echoes

i am extremely late with this spooktober fic but... at least it's here ghfjdkfhgjf

i hope y'all like it! <33

Sano family x female reader

w.c 6.7k

tw: yandere themes, mentions of blood/gore, character death, supernatural themes, dub-con (kinda? not in a smut way tho)

There’s a reason why the asking price for the old house at the end of the lane is so cheap. 

Why it’s sat on the market for near-on three years, untouched. A reason why the real estate agent, with her perfect hair and painted red smile, falters ever so slightly when the topic comes up.

“Before you decide whether you want to submit an offer, you should know that this house it– it has… a history.”

In hindsight, perhaps it’s your own fault for not prying deeper. You didn’t want the details, the ghost story. With an inheritance you gained too young, and grief still too raw, you lied, and told her you knew. 

You liked this house, with the trees in the garden and its quaint little kitchen. 

What harm could the past ever bring?

—

“That’s the last one, yeah?” 

You nod, setting the box down in what will be your living room, “That’s it.” Your whole life, everything you own, packed up into boxes now scattered throughout the otherwise empty house.

Yuzuha sighs, rolling her shoulders as she leans against the kitchen countertop, surveying the mess that awaits you. Then, she glances back at you, “You sure you don’t want me to stay? I don’t mind helping build furniture or unpacking stuff.”

If you let her, she’d probably call up her brother and rope him into helping the two of you as well. Not that Hakkai would take much convincing. 

And while you can’t imagine that muddling through indecipherable assembly instructions or diving into the very same boxes she helped pack is anyone's idea of a fun Friday night activity, Yuzuha would do it gladly, without complaint. All night, if that’s what it took. 

If that’s what you wanted. 

You shake your head and offer her a small, tired smile, “Nah, you’ve done plenty, Zu. I appreciate it, really.”

She lifts an eyebrow, “You’re gonna spend the night by yourself in this big, empty house?”

“Considering I bought it, yeah, that was kind of the idea,” you laugh.

Yuzuha doesn’t look sold on the idea. Then again, she hadn’t been sold on the whole moving thing to begin with, and for that matter hadn’t been shy about telling you. But if there’s one thing you’re grateful for, it’s that despite that, she’s the last person who’ll ever tell you that what you’re doing is the wrong way to grieve.

And so she nods, pulls you into a close hug. “… Love you,” she whispers, and you squeeze her back just as tight. For a while, the two of you stay like that, neither saying a word. 

With Yuzuha, you don’t have to. 

Eventually, the two of you part and she makes you promise, hand in hers, that you’ll call if you need her. 

The house feels infinitely emptier once she’s gone. The bedroom you’ve taken up residence in has your bed set up at least, a suitcase stuffed with essentials and clothes for the next few days propped open by its foot. 

You order pizza for dinner because it’s easy, sitting cross legged on the floor of your new home with an open bottle of champagne that the real estate agent left. Tomorrow you’ll begin the task of unpacking and settling in, a slow process that’ll doubtlessly take days – tonight, you don’t have the energy.

So you sit, and eat, and stare. This house of yours feels different in the dark. The emptiness echoes, a yawning, gaping maw that feels as though it wants to swallow you whole given half the chance.

But this house is new. Unfamiliar. It won’t be forever – when the rooms are filled with light and music and the kitchen smells of freshly baked treats, and you remember which of the floorboards creak and where the sun shines through in the late afternoon, it’ll be home. 

And maybe one day you’ll fill these rooms with a family of your own, maybe you won’t. Maybe in a few years time you’ll come to the realisation that you’ve outgrown what you needed this house to be, and you’ll sell it to somebody else. A family, perhaps, with kids who’ll run down through the living room chasing each other, laughing and giggling. 

The thought is an oddly bittersweet one. 

For as bright and happy as this place used to be, you can’t escape the truth that something awful happened here. There’s a sadness that hangs thick and heavy in the air around you. Grief and pain etched into the very foundations. 

But you’re broken, too – hollowed out with emotions still too raw to touch.

There’s something about this house, though. Something that goes beyond the tragedy that haunts it. You’ve spent days trying to put a finger on what exactly it was that drew you here, and why you kept coming back to it no matter how many other properties you saw.

You wanted an apartment, or a small two bedroom place. Something nice, small – cozy. Easy to take care of and keep clean. Rather than any of that, you’ve somehow ended up with a place bigger than you'll ever need, with four bedrooms and a converted garage out back.

You take a slow sip of champagne, straight from the bottle because your glasses are yet to be unpacked. 

This house has good bones, it just needs a little life.

—

You wake with a jerk, gasping.

The dream – nightmare, you suppose – begins to fade, even as you reach desperately to grasp at its threads. The only thing you can remember is the feeling of coldness seeping through your body, and hands grabbing at you from all different angles. Holding you, touching you, petting you.

Your stomach turns as you scramble from your sheets. 

It’s been like this every night this week. You fall asleep tucked away under the warm covers and wake in a pool of sweat from horrid dreams that you can’t remember, panting like you’ve run a marathon. 

Forgoing the bathroom light, you reach for the faucet, cupping your palms beneath the cold water to splash it over your face. 

You wonder absently whether it’s worth the effort of having an actual shower. The sheen of night sweat still clings to your skin, sticky and uncomfortable. Gripping tightly at the edge of the sink, you exhale, staring at the drain as water swirls down, down, down. 

It was only a dream. 

Another shaking breath. 

Nightmares are nothing new for you, yet these ones seem to sink their claws into you. They’re harder to shake than the ones about the accident – dead faces staring back at you with unblinking eyes, a cold morgue, your father’s corpse whispering into your ear; your fault, your fault, your fault.

You shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut as if that will rid you of whatever lingering unpleasantness the nightmare imparted. 

Finally, turning off the faucet, you glance to the mirror on the vanity– and scream.

There’s a figure standing behind you; slight and tan, with wavy blond hair and red hanafuda earrings that dangle to his shoulders. His eyes, though– one violet pupil fixed on your reflection. Where the other should be there’s a gruesome, gaping hole of flesh, brain matter and blood that drips down the left side of his face like tears. 

A door slams somewhere inside the house, a shout piercing through the night and you jolt, screaming louder as you whirl, still clutching at the edge of the sink as if it’s a lifeline.

There’s no one behind you, though, and when you fumble for the light switch, heart pounding, your stomach sitting in your throat, there’s nothing but silence to greet you. 

—

“You know what this house needs?” 

Yuzuha, munching on the pastries she’d brought over for breakfast, eyes the room thoughtfully, “New curtains. A rug for under the coffee table, hmm… oh! And some indoor plants, too. They’d liven the place up a little, I think.”

Hakkai laughs, waving off her suggestion, “Nah– well, maybe, but that’s not where I was going with this. You’ve got that extra room shed thingy out the back, right?” You nod and he continues, “Right, well I think you should convert it into a super fancy guest room, and then when Yuzuha starts smothering me, I can come and stay here!”

“Hey!”

“You wouldn’t stay up here with me in the main house? There’s like a thousand rooms you could pick from.” 

“Well, no, I mean– I wouldn’t, um, I don’t–” he flashes a panicked ‘deer-in-headlights’ look at his sister, the tips of his ears turning pink, and you almost – almost – feel bad for the laugh that bubbles up in response.

“Relax would you? You guys practically offered to let me move in with you both, no questions asked. You can stay here whenever. I’m not sure about the space out the back, though. I’m thinking I might turn it into a studio, or a movie den or something?” You shrug, “I don’t know yet. Still figuring it all out.”

When you glance to Yuzuha, the strawberry blonde is already watching you, a fond little smile warming her features. Hakkai may be the model in the family, but there’s something infinitely lovely about the elder Shiba sibling when she looks at you like that.

“A movie den sounds great,” she says, “but there’s no rush. We can make this place perfect, however you want it.”

You grin back at her, lips parting to continue the conversation when goosebumps begin to dot your skin, a cold shiver rolling down your spine. In the space of less than a second, the temperature in your living room’s plummeted, a chill that seeps right down to your very bones. 

The windows are closed, though, there’s no breeze or draught blowing through to explain it. 

Yet if either Yuzuha or Hakkai notice, neither gives any indication. 

“–Hakkai’s shoot, so we can go on Monday or Tuesday?” Yuzuha’s looking at you expectantly. 

You blink at her. “Sorry, what?”

The faintest of frowns mars your friend’s pretty face, but it’s smoothed over in an instant as she rolls her eyes good naturedly. “Stop zoning out on me. I said Hakkai’s got a shoot over the weekend, so if you want we can go look for house stuff early next week.”

Ice trails down your neck, localised this time – like fingertips dragging along your skin. 

“Oh… yeah, that– that sounds good.”

Your smile is frozen. Tight. And while Hakkai is oblivious to it, flicking through his phone with one hand, chowing down on the ‘low cal’ salmon bagel Yuzuha had begrudgingly bought for him, his sister isn’t so easily fooled.

Critical eyes sweep across your face. The corners of her lips turn downward, and she opens her mouth only to close it, seemingly thinking better of whatever it was.

Yuzuha exhales softly, and reaches for your hand, squeezing it til you look at her properly. “You look tired, hun,” she murmurs quietly. “Are you sleeping alright?”

And for some reason, the innocuous question has your eyes prickling, a thick lump forming in your throat. But you smile (as best you can) all the same, and nod.  

“Y’know what else this place could do with? A dog. Or a cat. Either really – you’ve got the space for it.”

—

A little after midnight, 12:17 to be exact, the TV in the living room switches on.

The sounds of buzzers ringing like pinball machines and peals of laughter float under your door, you recognise the sound of the host’s voice – reruns of a popular game show you used to watch as a kid.

You pull the covers tighter around yourself, squeezing your eyes closed like that’ll stop the noise. Protect you, somehow.

The TV’s old, wires must have loosened or frayed in the move somehow. That can happen, right?

You’re not crazy.

You’re not. 

Ghosts aren’t real.

And when the door to your bedroom slowly creaks open, and muted, impossible footfalls  pad closer, your grip on the sheets tightens. 

Muscles pulled taut and trembling like a leaf, a cold bead of sweat trickles down your spine.

Ghosts aren’t real.

The other edge of your covers lift, and you tense, flinching at the breeze of cold night air that licks at your back. A whimper slips out, halfway to a sob, as the sheets rustle, your bed dipping under a phantom weight.

The cold you’ve since become familiar with settles over you once more. And still, you refuse to look. 

This has to be a dream. Another visceral nightmare that’ll fade the moment you wake.

“Go away,” you whisper, voice cracking. “Go away, go away, go away, go away–”

Down in the living room, the TV changes channels.

—

The sun is shining and your bedroom is blessedly empty when you pry open bloodshot, exhausted eyes. 

Not a pillow out of place, no sign of any late night visitors, corporeal or otherwise. It should be a relief, except the same cannot be said for the kitchen, for when you sleepily shuffle in, you find a blonde girl with honey eyes no older than you sitting on the countertop, idly swinging her legs.

Watching you with a strangely eager smile.

“About time you got up. I’d ask if you usually make a habit of sleeping this late, but I think by now we both know that you do.”

You freeze, eyes widening, heart pounding; a deer in headlights. 

She’s a petite thing, slender if not for her curves, and perched atop the counter and smiling as she is, she doesn’t appear threatening or violent. Appearances can be misleading, though, and the fact remains that there’s a stranger in your house, talking to you as if she knows you. 

Rooted to the floor on the outskirts of the living room, you’re wholly defenceless. There’s nothing within arms reach you can grab to defend yourself, and you can’t even threaten to call the cops – you left your phone back in your room. 

Nervous eyes dart around your living space. Is it just her, or are there others, too? 

You don’t know whether to scream, run, or stand your ground and demand she gets the hell out of your house. You can’t think, petrified of making the wrong choice, your breath coming quicker and quicker.

“I don’t bite, y’know. You don’t have to be scared.”

Screaming, you eventually decide. If you scream, she might get scared and run off, or someone else will hear and come and investigate. Before you can make so much as a squeak, however, the blonde shifts, leaning back ever so slightly – inadvertently placing herself directly in the path of the sunlight streaming into the kitchen. 

And your jaw falls lax.

The sun doesn’t spill over her features, casting them in a warm glow. The shadows don’t shift. 

Rather, that beam of buttery, golden light filters through her, as if she’s no more than smoke and dust. 

“You’re not… real.”

The girl tilts her head to the side, considering you for a moment. Then she laughs, hopping down off the counter. “No?” 

One blink, and all of a sudden she’s standing right in front of you, hand outstretched to touch your face. You jerk back reflexively, and she diverts her course, grabbing your wrist instead. Steadies you with an ice cold touch and laces her fingers with yours.

“I might not be alive anymore, that doesn’t make me any less real.”

It’s too much. Her touch and the closeness, the paranoia of the past two weeks. Hysteria bubbles up inside of you and you try to yank your hand free and scramble back away from her.

For a figment of a fractured imagination, the blonde’s grip is surprisingly unyielding. You wrench yourself against it all the same. 

“No, no, no, let me go–” you gasp, hot tears prickling at your eyes.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the hallucination says, a pout tugging at her full lips. “None of us will, Izana… Izana’s just–”

You never find out who or what Izana is or isn’t, because between terrified, rattling breaths and half choked pleas, a masculine voice calls out from nearby.

“Emma.”

The blonde – Emma? – heaves a long suffering sigh, rolling her pretty eyes. “Fine.” 

And in the blink of an eye, she’s gone.

—

You refuse to google the word ‘ghosts’.

Lost in the crowd wandering the busy streets of Tokyo with a coffee in hand, you reach a calm sort of clarity.

As far as you can tell, there are two possibilities; Either ghosts are real and your house is haunted, or you’re seeing things. 

Having never been one to put much faith in anything spiritual, logically, the second option makes more sense. You’re grieving still, exhausted from a lack of sleep and the stress of packing up your life and moving houses for the first time. Is it any wonder that you’re struggling to cope? Is it that much of a stretch to imagine that you’re seeing things, feeling things that aren’t actually there?

Except you don’t feel crazy. When you’re outside, away from home – on your bi-weekly trek to your parents grave, or when you’re out shopping with Yuzuha or picking up groceries, you don’t get that same sense of unease. You don’t see things that shouldn’t – couldn’t – possibly exist.

And things were getting better. You were getting better; the nightmares were easing. The guilt still ate away at you, yes, and you mourned for the loss of your parents, but it wasn’t that all consuming grief that crippled you before.

You’d felt that touch. That day in the kitchen with your friends, and again this morning. The girl, Emma, you’d felt her hand around your wrist, cold and impossibly strong, but real. 

Which leaves you with the possibility that you’re not imagining any of it. 

In any case, you can’t just bury your head in the sand and pretend this isn’t happening. You can’t hide away forever.

The house is quiet when you return. Still. Yet there’s an air of anticipation that stirs as you cross the threshold and set down your keys, like an arrow nocked and drawn, ready to be loosed. 

Wetting your lips and squaring your shoulder, you wonder if you’re a fool. You must be, yet you don’t see any other option. 

Breathing in deep, your lips part, “Emma? Are you there?”

You’re speaking to an empty room, and then, suddenly, you aren’t – the petite blonde girl appearing beside you.

Only this time, she’s not alone. Leaning propped up against the open entryway, arms folded across his chest, a tall, dark haired man meets your gaze.

There’s something decidedly familiar in the set of his features, the shape of his nose, but you’re spared from thinking too much on it when Emma squeals in delight, throwing her arms around you – oblivious to the way you stiffen and squeak under the cool embrace. 

“I knew you’d come around!”

“Emma.”

You recognise the deeper voice, having heard it only hours before. Your attention shifts to the other figure in the room. Older than Emma, with more than a passing resemblance; a brother, you decide, or a cousin.

Flat, black eyes peer back at you. Unsettling, despite the pleasant expression he wears. 

Emma huffs, drawing her head from your tensed shoulder to look at him, “What? I’m not doing anything wrong.”

A hint of a smile teases at his mouth. 

It’s a familiar look, you’ve seen a similar one on Yuzuha’s face whenever Hakkai tries to sweet talk his way out of doing things he doesn’t want to – chores, paperwork, what he deems to be ‘unnecessary’ meetings. The list is endless.

“Let her go and give the poor girl some space, would you? You’re overwhelming her.”

For a moment it looks as though she’s going to argue with him, but upon glancing back at you – noticing, probably for the first time the strained expression on your face – she relents, a petulant, “Killjoy,” muttered under her breath. 

Yet she doesn’t stray from your side, hovering close. “This is Shinichiro. He’s the oldest.”

It’s a surreal thing, being introduced to the ghosts of the people who used to live in your house. Stumped by what you’re expected to say in return (‘nice to meet you’ seems a little… inadequate, considering the circumstances), Shinichiro takes the lead, grinning as he pushes off the doorframe. 

“Not every day you meet a ghost, huh?” he asks. 

You decide against telling him that you’re still not positive this isn’t all in your head. 

“Not every day you move into a house that’s haunted,” you counter. You’d meant it as a joke, but the words come out all stilted and stiff, betraying your discomfort. 

Despite that, they seem to have their intended effect, something like amusement glittering in Shinichiro’s eyes as he chuckles lightly, “Lucky us.”

Your stomach twists. Joking or not, none of this feels right. Emma, clinging to your side like glue, seems enamoured already, and Shinichiro appears friendly enough, but none of that changes the past two weeks, your fear and terror, the sheer blinding panic you’d felt, waking up from nightmares you’re beginning to suspect weren’t so inexplicable.

A sudden thought occurs to you, and you turn to Emma, “Wait, you said oldest?”

She nods, “Mhm! Shin’s the oldest, but there’s four of us.”

“You’ve already met Izana.”

Met him? Confusion etches its way onto your countenance, and with a frown of his own Shinichiro hastens to add, “The asshole shouldn’t have scared you like that, he’ll apologise.”

Ah, you realise with an icy stab – the face in the mirror. The one you’ve spent the past week trying your best to forget.

… Emma had mentioned him before, hadn’t she. She’d known then, that her brother had scared you half to death that night. Both of them had. And yet he – Izana – hadn’t looked like they did. Save for the smoke-like translucence of their skin and the preternatural way they moved, appearing and disappearing at will, both Emma and Shinichiro could almost pass for human. Or alive, you guess. 

Izana had been something else entirely. A nightmare, bloody and horrifying… Why was he different?

“And then there’s Mikey, but he’s… well–” Emma hesitates, glancing at her older brother, who’s quick to step in.  

“Manjiro doesn’t do great with change,” Shin admits, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “But he’s coming around. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

Nope. This is too much.

“I-I think I need… I just need–” but the rest of the sentence won’t come, and so you shake your head and stumble for the couch, sinking down into the cushions moments before your legs give out entirely. 

Elbows braced on your thighs, staring vacantly at the wooden floorboards you shudder for breath. The air’s too thin, and your head’s spinning. 

Maybe you have lost it completely. 

“Hey, hey, breathe for me, yeah? I get it’s a lot to take in, but everything’s gonna be fine.”

There’s a hand on your back, stroking slowly. Emma pops into existence beside you, curling into your side like a cat. Her cheek falls against your shoulder, “It’s okay.”

—

You never do get that apology.

Izana’s different from Emma, from Shin. Different even from Mikey – Manjiro – the youngest brother having taken to silently glaring at you from the outskirts whichever room you occupy. 

(‘He just needs some time’, Shinichiro assured, patting you on the head.)

He appears in the windows, in your mirror. Always in the reflection, bloody and gruesome, hovering like a bad omen.

Then comes the cold that freezes you in place. And you’re forced to watch as he draws closer – touches you. Encircling your wrist at first, icy fingers trailing up your sides.

And then comes the hand that curls around your throat. 

He doesn’t squeeze. Doesn’t tighten his grip.

Izana smiles in the reflection, laying his ruined face in the crook of the very neck he’s toying with and you wonder if ghosts can hurt the living – truly hurt you.

You wonder if he can hear the frantic pounding of your heart. 

“I won’t leave,” you tell him one night, your voice trembling as he thumbs leisurely at your fluttering pulse. “You won’t scare me away.”

Izana snickers, and in the blink of an eye he appears behind you. Real, solid (or as solid as a ghost can be), wholly undamaged. Lips at your ear, violet eyes twinkle as they bore into your reflection.

“And what makes you think I want you gone?”

—

Another night, another restless dream that wrenches you back to consciousness. 

In the darkness of your room, you draw your knees up to your chest, curling into a ball as the tears – hot and bitter – well up and spill silently down your cheeks.

It wasn’t a nightmare, at least, not the kind you’ve become accustomed to. In it, you weren’t haunted by shapeless, faceless figures, but your parents. Dead and empty, cold to the touch. They’d stood on the road beside the wreckage, watching impassively as you cried and screamed, crawling over broken glass to reach them.

Your fault.

Shoulders shaking, your face buried in your knees, you don’t notice the temperature in your bedroom dwindling.

“What happened?”

With a sniffle, you lift your head to find that you’re no longer alone; Mikey sitting cross legged at the end of your bed, chin resting in his propped up palm. 

For once, he isn’t glaring. 

Too drained for anything other than acceptance, you shrug with another weak sniffle, “Just a dream, don’t worry about it.”

At his raised eyebrow, you sigh, slowly wiping at your tears. “There was a car accident a few months back,” you say. “My parents, they–”

“They didn’t survive.”

“No.”

Mikey tilts his head, “Were you there?”

The screech of metal bending and gasoline that burns up your nose. Your head throbs, pain radiating along your leg. Your mother’s body lying twisted on the road in front of you–

Fingernails dig into the soft skin of your palm.

“… Yeah.”

For a little while, Mikey doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t offer any comfort, and you don’t expect him to, but he doesn’t leave. 

You wouldn’t go so far as to say that it’s a nice moment, what with tears still quietly rolling down your cheek and your heart aching, but it’s something. Enough, maybe.

And then Mikey decides to speak. 

“You have no one left, then.”

You stiffen, blindsided for a moment by the callousness of the comment. Mikey’s own expression is decidedly neutral, and whether he meant it to hurt or not, the words are salt in your wounds, rubbing too deep, too painful to be ignored. 

Your eyes narrow into a glare, “I have Yuzuha. And Hakkai.” 

Yuzuha hadn’t spent weeks looking after you in the wake of your parents’ deaths, making sure you ate and slept and showered, keeping you from becoming a miserable, hollowed out shell just to be brushed aside like she’s nothing. The Shiba siblings are family, blood and DNA be damned. 

“They’re not your family,” he scoffs, scowling right back. “They’ll leave eventually.”

Resisting the urge to tell him to shut up, you instead fall back to the pillows, roughly yanking your covers up over your shoulder once more. “You don’t know anything,” you huff under your breath, the words more bitter than you intend.

You expect him to disappear then, or to double down on the cruel remarks. Mikey does neither, choosing to remain at the foot of your bed, his stare boring holes into you.

Whether it’s minutes or hours that pass, you couldn’t say, only that you’re on the verge of sleep once more when his voice breaks through the silence.

“I know what it’s like to watch your family die.”

Curled up on your side, gazing into the darkness, there’s an old ache inside of your chest that pangs, and regret washes over you. 

You’d asked Emma about it only once, tentatively broaching the subject after dinner one night. 

She’d gone silent for a long time, staring at the floor with wide, unseeing eyes. It hadn’t been until you’d gently called her name again that she’d snapped out of it, quietly admitting that there was a break in. Shinichiro had appeared a moment later and the subject was quickly dropped – you haven’t had the nerve to bring it up again since.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, and Mikey hums in response.

—

Things seem to settle after that.

You return to work, and though you’d never admit as much to either one of them, it’s nice to be around people other than Yuzuha and her brother. 

After the first day or two, your co-workers stop tiptoeing around you like they’re afraid you’ll break at the slightest touch, and start treating you how they used to. 

For the first time in a long time, you feel almost normal again.

You come to realise that you like coming home to Emma and Shinichiro – even Mikey when he’s not in a mood. You enjoy having company while you cook dinner, someone to listen to you talk about your day. 

Izana still takes perverse pleasure in trying to unnerve you of course, and Mikey hangs over you like a shadow (though he doesn’t glare so much anymore, which you count as a win) but the house feels more welcoming now that you know it’s not so empty.

You’re not a burden to them. Not a broken, pitiable thing. 

It’s enough, sometimes, to make you forget that you’re not the only one with hang ups from the past. 

The first time you come home late, it’s because your bus broke down halfway home, and you ended up grabbing a bite to eat while you waited for the next one.

You’re greeted by Shin, pacing in the living room, an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips.

(And maybe if he hadn’t looked so frustrated, you might’ve marvelled at the concept of a ghost smoking.)

“Where the hell were you?”

Both Emma and Mikey linger nearby, watching on as you drop your keys and purse on the counter top, toeing off your shoes. “There was an issue with the bus, it’s not a big deal.”

Well meaning or not, his attitude chafes a little. You’re a grown adult, you don’t need to be babied or coddled. You certainly don’t need to explain yourself to any of them – it was barely an hour. If you wanted to spend all night partying, or go out on a date, or stay back in the office working, you were perfectly entitled to.

Shinichiro isn’t your big brother, and you’re not a kid with a curfew.

Nevertheless, you apologise – if only to rid the awkward, strangely tense atmosphere that hangs in the air between you.

“Shin gets like that sometimes. After… everything that happened,” Emma explains later, seated atop your bedroom vanity. “He cares about you. We all do – we just wanna know that you’re safe, is that really so awful?”

You’re not the one being unreasonable, you know that, it doesn’t stop the slight twinge of guilt.  

The second time it happens, it’s because you’re dragged out for drinks after work to celebrate one of your coworkers birthdays. You stumble home well after dark, the taste of sake fresh on your tongue. 

Lips pursed, Shinichiro doesn’t say a word as you step inside and shut the door behind you, the lock clicking into place. He doesn’t need to – the disapproval rolls off of him in waves. 

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, your previous good mood all but evaporating under his scowl. “I didn’t realise it was so late.”

Which is a lie, technically, but what else is there to say?

This time, even Izana’s here, his countenance impassive save for the narrowing of his eyes – an expression matched across his siblings’ faces. 

The longer the heavy silence stretches, the more uncomfortable you become. You begin to feel a little like you’re on trial. “Next time I’ll call, o-or, I don’t know, I’ll leave a message somehow to let you know that I’ll be coming home late.”

“You don’t fucking get it, do you?” Shin snaps, and for one split second, you swear his appearance changes; blood flecked across pale, dead skin, a bullet wound at his temple, bone and blood and brain matter exploding on the other side–

You blink, though, and whatever you thought you saw is gone. 

Shin looks down at you, eyes uncharacteristically hard, his jaw set. “You don’t fucking get it,” he repeats quietly, shaking his head, and an instant later, all four of them are gone.

Feeling very much like a child chastised by your parents, there’s not much left to do but shower the day’s stresses off of you and head to sleep. 

The hot water helps. Tomorrow, you decide, you’ll apologise to him and talk, maybe set out some ground rules. You still don’t think you’re entirely in the wrong, but clearly this is a point of contention with him – with all of them, apparently – and it’s better to nip it in the bud.

Opening the shower door, you step gingerly out onto the bath mat, reaching through the steam for your towel. One moment, you’re upright, the next you’re careening backwards, arm outstretched–

You hit the ground hard, and scream as bone breaks. 

—

“I leave you alone for one week!”

“Zu, it’s fine! Would you please stop worrying?”

“You broke your arm!”

“There was water on the tiles, I slipped and fell, it happens, and I’m fine,” you stress. “The doc said a few weeks in the cast and I’ll be good as new.”

The unimpressed look Yuzuha gives you says more than words ever could. “You need to be more careful, hun. You could’ve hit your head, you could’ve seriously hurt yourself!” She sighs, nibbling at her bottom lip, “I just… I don’t wanna lose you, too.”

You smile at that, letting her pull you into a tight hug. Her lips press against your forehead and she holds you there for a minute, the familiar scent of honey and daisies tickling your senses. “You know I love you, right?” she mumbles against your hair.

“I know. I love you, too.”

Above you, the light fixture shatters.

—

A hand smoothes over your hair, a cold sensation tickling the soft skin of your cheeks. Blinking slowly, the world comes to, and you realise that once again, you’ve fallen asleep on the couch instead of your bed. 

“What time is it?” you croak, squinting up at the eldest.

“Late.”

You yawn, pulling yourself up into a seated position, “‘m sorry. Work’s been crazy this week.”

“I know,” he says. “You’ve been staying back a lot lately, and going in early.”

It sounds almost like an accusation. 

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you frown a little, “I know– I’ve just gotta get back in the swing of things. And the broken arm isn’t exactly helping, but it won’t be like this forever.”

Shin nods, but he’s not even looking at you, staring instead at the game show playing forgotten on the old TV, and your frown deepens, “I-is everything okay?”

His shoulders rise and fall, a heavy sigh falling from his lips. He turns to look at you then, and smiles.

You’ve seen Shin smile plenty of times before, but this one looks all wrong. Your stomach twists uneasily. 

“Yeah,” he says, “It’s gonna be just fine, I promise.”

Your neck snaps to the side with a sickening, final crack.

—

You’d asked Yuzuha once if she believed in ghosts.

At the time she’d brushed it off as idle curiosity and told you the truth; yes, she believed in ghosts and no, she’d never seen one herself.

‘Do you think that there’s such a thing as good ghosts, or –I guess ghosts that aren’t inherently bad?’ you’d pushed. 

Looking back on it now, Yuzuha wonders whether she missed something. She’s always been able to read you like a book, and it was strange, wasn’t it, that you’d pressed the issue? That you’d seemed so out of sorts, nervous, even.

But back then, you were only just starting to come back to yourself. She overlooked so much of it.

She’d told you then that ghosts only came about when people died with unfinished business, and that meant they were tethered here. Trapped. She’d told you that like any animal caught on a chain and left to rot, that made them dangerous.

The approach clicking of heels against wood draws her back to the present, and she turns to see the real estate agent pocketing her phone with a bright smile.

“Apologies, Miss Shiba.”

Yuzuha waves her off, “Don’t worry about it, it’s fine. Now, you were telling me about the history of the property?”

“Ah yes. I believe you’re aware that this home is a jiko buken?” Yuzuha nods, and the agent continues, “Well, about four years ago there was a nasty mess with the family who lived here, a murder-suicide, I believe. An awful, tragic thing.” 

Tragic was one way of putting it. 

After an hour or so of digging online, Yuzuha had found the full, grisly story on a true crime blog – backed up by links to leaked documents from the original police report.

The Sano children were orphans, raised by their grandfather after the untimely death (and abandonment) of their parents early in their childhood. The grandfather, Sano Mansaku, passed himself some years before, leaving the eldest, Shinichiro, to raise his three younger siblings: Izana, who it was later discovered was in fact adopted, Manjiro, also referred to as Mikey, and Emma, the youngest and only girl – Shinichiro and Mikey’s half sister.

Reports vary over what exactly caused the initial argument. The police suspect it might’ve had something to do with money or gang activity, as all three men had at one point or another been tied to various criminal groups. Another theory posits that the fight broke out after Izana’s true parentage was revealed.

In any case, it was deduced that a physical altercation broke out between Izana and Mikey and in the struggle Emma, likely trying to stop them from fighting, was shot on accident.

While the bullet missed her heart, it punctured her lungs. Even if emergency services had been called, there was no saving her at that point – the poor girl died within minutes.

Enraged by the death of his sister, police gathered that Mikey then shot Izana at a near point blank range, right through his eye. 

While both shots were heard by neighbours, neither the police nor ambulances were called to the scene. Nearly two hours later, the eldest Sano returned home from work to find Emma and Izana dead, Mikey still cradling his sister’s body.

With the knowledge that his family was destroyed, and that his only remaining brother would be lucky to escape the death penalty if he were to be arrested, Shinichiro killed him – either in a blind rage or as a brutal act of mercy – before turning the gun on himself.

Yuzuha swallows a bitter laugh. Murder-suicide.

The real estate agent, oblivious, sighs, “The property then sat unoccupied until a few months ago when it was purchased outright by a young local girl.”

“O-oh?”

Her heart pounds so violently against her ribs that she’s sure the agent must be able to hear it. She knows what’s coming, tries to brace herself as best she can. 

Hakkai had offered to come with her, his face ashen – almost green at the thought. He would’ve, though, if she’d said yes. 

Maybe she should’ve. It’d be easier, she thinks, to hear it with her little brother’s hand wrapped around hers. 

“Yes, unfortunately she too died on the property a few weeks back – an accident,” she hastens to clarify, as if that makes any difference. 

Bile creeps up her throat, and Yuzuha forces herself to nod, clasping her hands behind her back so the real estate agent won’t see how badly they’re shaking. “I see… Do you– do you mind if I take a look around by myself?”

“No, no, of course, feel free. I’ll be in the kitchen if you have any questions.”

Her footsteps fade away, and Yuzuha walks the familiar path into your bedroom. All your furniture’s gone, your belongings. The room’s empty now. Cold and lifeless.

This house of yours always had cold spots, a bitter iciness that crept up at the strangest times, freezing her right to her bones – like someone was walking over her grave.

Closing her eyes, Yuzuha breathes in deep, and waits.

It doesn’t take long for goosebumps to prickle, the tiny hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. 

“I know you’re here,” she breathes, eyes fluttering open – just as a cold grip seizes her by the throat. In one fell swoop, the door to your bedroom swings shut, the power surging ‘til it blows all across the house. 

Plunged into darkness, the room’s just as empty as when Yuzuha entered it, frost spreading across the window. Even her breath, choked and frantic, puffs out in clouds of vapour as she claws at the invisible grip. 

Distantly Yuzuha hears the real estate agent calling out to her, the door handle rattling uselessly. Locked. 

Cold breath washes over her neck, lips at her ear. The hand at her throat tightens. 

“She isn’t yours anymore. Get out.”

[liquid-luck-00]

Marks of Magic

Day 2 Vampire

Maribat Spooktober 2023

Previous *** Next

I didn’t mean for this to become a song fic but that’s where it ended up (Vampire by Olivia Rodrigo)

Language and cursing is used

1790 words

~~~~~~~~~~

She woke up the next morning, and it was so peaceful. She didn’t have to worry about Hawkmoth, she didn’t have to worry what her classmates thought of her. That just gave her so much freedom in fact she smiled, taking a breath of air for the first time in what seemed like years.

She bounced downstairs, earlier than her normal on a Saturday morning.

"some one is in good spirits today." Her Maman smiled as she came into the kitchen.

"Of course I am!" She tackled her mom in a hug.

"Did something happen at school?" Her Maman hugged her back. A second later her face turned somber, knowingly she asked. "Did Lila do something?... Alya?"

"Yes and no. I'll tell you and Papa at dinner."

"Okay Baio Bai." She flicked her on the nose. "For now help me get your father to eat something." She held a tray of berries, yogurt, granola, and coffee up for her to take down.

"Well isn’t this a surprise." Her papa smiled as she walked in to the bakery kitchen.

"Well it’s too nice to be crammed in my room." She offered.

"So what did your mother send?" He clapped his hands as flour clouded in the kitchen.

"A few staples." She started mixing granola into the yogurt, and tossing in a few of her papa’s favorite berries, before handing him the bowl.

"Any plans princess?"

"Don’t know." She shrugged. "Maybe walk around and sketch. I was also thinking about dropping by the Couffaine’s."

"Does he treat you right?"

"Papa!!" She blushed, covering her face with her hands. "He’s a good friend, nothing else."

She finally muttered when she found her voice again.

"He is a good kid Mari. Besides if he doesn’t he has to go through me."

She could only laugh before excusing herself.

She never thought of it before, never let herself truly think she could be in a relationship, but…

Luka knows who she is, was, damn that punched her in the gut. But he knows, and she made sure he was the only one that actually remembered that particular secret of hers. Sass had even been with him until a week ago, but could she actually let herself say it to him.

Without realizing she was coming up on the dock.

"How are ya lassie, come aboard." She heard Mdm. Couffaine call out to her.

"Thank you. How have you been?" She asked easily to the sweet pirate of a woman.

"All is good. He’s down in his cabin."

"Thank you." She walked down and approached the door, strums of a guitar floated through the hall. She lifted a hand up to knock, but the door swung open. She hadn’t noticed it had stopped.

"Marinette."

"Luka…" The words died in her throat, her eyes began to sting.

"It’s okay, my melody."

Yes she was relieved that everything was over but that couldn’t last. She lost her best friend, Tikki had become such a huge piece of her and now she was gone. She guarded the kwamii, learned what made each one special. Barkk's loyalty and obsession with the knight's order. Wayzz's fondness of the other's antics and his calmness. She finally let her emotions rage through her without fearing repercussions.

"Marinette!" Luka’s usual calm melted into panic as she broke down.

"It's..." She choked on her words, everything from the night before crashed against her closed eyes.

Luka started to hum, pulling her into a hug. His steady heartbeat combined with his peaceful humming calmed some small part of her. "He's gone." He leaned back, a silent question in his gaze, 'who'. "Hawkmoth." She whispered before emotion overtook her once again.

They stayed like that for a while. Luka didn't pry, didn't try to stop her from feeling everything. At some point they ended up sitting on the bed, Luka started playing his guitar.

"You know you don't have to tell me." Luka finally spoke, not missing a note. "But if you want to I'll listen."

"I..." She pursed her lips, she was about to say more when the door swung open.

"Oh!" Juleka stood in the door, surprised to see the two of them. Her emotions then schooled themselves, ignoring Marinette, and turned towards Luka. "Everyone's here." The quiet girl turned and left.

"Come on." Luka extended his hand. "You need a distraction."

She took it and let him pull her through the house boat. There on the deck was almost half the class. Kitty Section (which included Rose, Ivan, and Juleka), Mylene, Adrien, Alix, Alya and Nino who were sitting next to Lila. Everyone turned and once they saw her scowled.

"Why are you here?" Alex voiced what everyone must have been thinking,

"Well... I..." she didn't know why, just that it felt right, even as Luka dragged her on the stage.

"Come on, just try." Luka placed the microphone in her hand as he plugged his guitar into the amp.

"But I don't..." She bit her lip unsure. Luka started strumming the song only he could hear. She just had to put lyrics to it. "Okay."

She let every thing pour int her words. Her sadness, joy, anger, everything she attempted and failed to tell Luka. Her eyes steeled as she became more confident with every note. Her first target was Alya.

'Hate to give the satisfaction, asking how you're doing now

How's the castle built off people you pretend to care about?

Just what you wanted

Look at you, cool guy, you got it'

Her eyes turned and caught Adrien's as the words formed in her mind mere moments before they crossed her lips.

'I see the parties and the diamonds sometimes when I close my eyes

Six months of torture you sold as some forbidden paradise

I loved you truly

Gotta laugh at the stupidity'

Without hesitating she stared at Lila.

'Cause I've made some real big mistakes

But you make the worst one look fine

I should've known it was strange

You only come out at night

I used to think I was smart

But you made me look so naive

The way you sold me for parts

As you sunk your teeth into me, oh

Bloodsucker, famefucker

Bleedin' me dry, like a goddamn vampire'

She took a short breath before continuing.. now catching Nino's attention.

'And every girl I ever talked to told me you were bad, bad news

You called them crazy, God, I hate the way I called them crazy too

You're so convincing

How do you lie without flinching?

(How do you lie, how do you lie, how do you lie?)'

Her eyes swept her 'friends' before landing on Alix.

'Ooh, what a mesmerizing, paralyzing, fucked-up little thrill

Can't figure out just how you do it, and God knows I never will

Went for me, and not her

'Cause girls your age know better'

As she began the chorus again she closed her eyes and stepped back, furthering herself from those on the deck.

'I've made some real big mistakes

But you make the worst one look fine

I should've known it was strange

You only come out at night

I used to think I was smart

But you've made me look so naive

The way you sold me for parts

As you sunk your teeth into me, oh

Bloodsucker, famefucker

Bleedin' me dry, like a goddamn vampire'

She picked up the pace and tried to catch everyone's eyes, but they seemed to be avoiding her gaze.

'You said it was true love, but wouldn't that be hard?

You can't love anyone, 'cause that would mean you had a heart

I tried you help you out, now I know that I can't

'Cause how you think's the kind of thing I'll never understand

I've made some real big mistakes

But you make the worst one look fine

I should've known it was strange

You only come out at night

I used to think I was smart

But you made me look so naive

The way you sold me for parts

As you sunk your teeth into me, oh

Bloodsucker, famefucker

Bleedin' me dry, like a goddamn vampire'

She took a gulp of air, now standing next to Luka. His, and everyone's, attention on her as he continued before cutting abruptly. "Better?"

she never thought it would actually be so releiving, but it was. she giggled at thats, a light smile entwined in the laughter. Such a contrast to what had come out of her heart seconds ago. "Yeah. So much fucking better."

He smiled at her, a small grin, but his eyes were bright, knowing. Her heart skipped as she felt her cheeks heat up.

"Gurl! You can't just show up and diss us like nothing!" Alya shouted nearly jumping up at her.

"Good thing I didn't plan it." she grumbled at the bespekled girl.

"Bull!" Alix jumped in. "We all heard that."

"Then consider it my good bye." She replaced the microphone and started down the steps. Luka catching up to her, he took her hand and their fingers intertwined, almost like second nature.

"Don't." Juleka grabbed Luka's shoulder turning him, and her in turn. "Please." She pleaded.

"I'm dissapointed." He took a step back and

squeezed her hand. "In all of you."

He pulled her and they walked off the boat.

"They're gone." she breathed after they walked a mile or two through the city,

"Hawkmoth?" He asked.

"Yes. But..." she finally stopped. "I released them."

"Who?"

"The kwamii." Her gaze was solely on her shoes and the pavement below.

"Oh." He lifted her chin. "Are you okay with that?"

She spilled. Everything that happend the night before. Everything that led up to her outburst yesterday and earlier. All the things she avoided telling him before. Once she finished she watched his reaction, hoping he wouldn't hate her, hoping that he could forgive her. Because she is why he will never see Sass again, never getting to be a hero again.

"Are they happy?"

The question caught her off guard. "I think so."

"Then you did the right thing."

she rose up on her toes and placed a small kiss on his cheek. "Thank you,"

A flash of teal exploded in front of her, but it lasted only a second when it was gone she was about to ask what happened, but the questioned died on her lips. There on Luka's wrist sat the miraculous of the snake.

"I guess they are still watching out for us."

"They said as much." She smiled, before adding. "They also said if I needed their power they'd lend it."

"Let's not test it so soon." He pressed a kiss to her forehead before they started walking again. "So Gotham."

Next

[brightoakgame]

Spooktober 2023 Jam Project - Burdock

(logo by the ineffably cool IngThing) We're skidding closer to the finish line and coming in hot, so I'm very happy to share a quick peek at Burdock, the project I've been working on for this year's Spooktober Visual Novel Game Jam!

(stunning character art by Remnantation, textbox by IngThing)

This is my very first time participating in a game jam, and I've had the joy of working with a phenomenal team of very talented individuals--two of whom also worked on Bright Oak, and two artists I've greatly admired from other projects!

Character Artist: Remnantation

Original Music: John Åhlin

Logo and UI: @ingthing

Coding: A wonderful (but currently secret) artist

Writing and Backgrounds: me!

I'm going to save the story pitch for release, but here's a taste of some of the aspects that excite me:

(Rem's detail work on the main sprites is absolutely jaw-dropping and beautiful!!)

(Ing's UI is gorgeous and atmospheric)

(John knows that the quickest route to my heart is to have words like "kantele" and "rusty mandolin" included in the music track listings)

That's it for now--I look forward to sharing more with the official release announcement at the end of the week!

[thissortofsorcery]

Harringrove social media AU (in a season 2 setting because that is my paradise land) where Billy makes surfing TikToks as a teenager, with a really good following and a promising career as a pro surfer. Until Neil moves the entire family to a landlocked state, and Billy knows it's to punish him.

There could be several reasons for this:

-Billy is becoming too independent from Neil;

-Someone questioned a bruise Billy didn't cover up well enough and now it's all over the internet;

-Billy was caught with a guy he was seeing;

-Billy's mom saw his TikToks and tried to get in touch, Neil had been keeping him from her;

And now Billy's in a town in the middle of nowhere, Indiana, two months into the school year, and everybody expects him to, what, be chill about it? Not care that Neil can just ruin his life and his career on a whim, and there's nothing he can do about it? Billy's raging, Billy's seething, Billy's hurt, and no one wants to or can help him. Susan won't lift a finger or say anything against Neil, looks down every time his dad raises his voice or his hand to hit Billy. And Max- Max is furious with him, blames him for the move like he was the one who decided to pack everything, like he was the one who sold his board and packed the cars and bought the ugly house on Cherry Lane.

What the hell is Billy supposed to do now? He's a senior and he had no plans of going to college, hasn't even thought of applying anywhere. His account is going to die out if he doesn't post anything, and who can guarantee he can raise it from the dead in a year if he makes it back to California once he's eighteen? He needs the TikTok money to make it back to California anyway. He's screwed. He's so screwed.

On the other side of this, is Steve. Steve is a gaming streamer and youtuber, or was- is. He's trying, okay? But ever since- everything, he can't play horror games anymore. He used to stream horror games pretty much exclusively, had whole events for it, charity streams, sponsorships, and then the whole Upside Down thing happened, and he knows his role in it was minor, okay, he knows he was there just for the tail end of it, but a seven-feet tall monster with a flower for a face coming out of the ceiling of the Byers house was both his starting and breaking point, apparently.

His channel was pretty good. Pretty stable. Then he tried to stream Blair Witch about a week after everything and had a panic attack on stream. Things didn't get better after that.

Nancy got him into Animal Crossing, because it's soothing, so he streams that now. And The Sims. Needless to say, his channel took a pretty big hit, as did his reputation. Like Tommy H. says, he turned bitch.

But it's fine, everything's fine. He's got Nancy, he's got a loyal online community that stayed after everything, even if it's small and no one's anywhere near Hawkins. He's got his SAD (Steve After Dark) Streams for when he can't sleep. Halloween is coming up and he's maybe sad he's not doing Spooktober this year, but. Maybe on the last week. Maybe on Halloween Day. If Nancy doesn't want to go to Tina's party.

Billy and Steve collide pretty much the same way. Steve is on edge and Billy is on edge, then the world's ugliest dogs are let out, and Maxine sneaks out, and Billy finds her in a house full of boys and an 18 year old washed out streamer who lies to him about it. Next thing Billy knows he's waking up in a half-destroyed kitchen with an empty syringe two feet from him, car gone, and not a single person in sight.

On Monday, Harrington's face looks bad. It's been a while since Billy's felt this guilty about putting a bruise on someone's face, but he knows he lost it a little, that night. Went too far. He doesn't remember most of it, and Billy doesn't know if that's from whatever drugs Maxine shot him with or from just- anger. Remorse just clogs his throat and he can't breathe. He decides to stay the fuck away from Harrington.

And then Tommy H. just has to take pictures of them, make a damn video, post it to Instagram and TikTok and tag them both. Of course it goes viral.

Billy spends a full week in a state of panic. He fully expects Harrington to press charges now. 

(Steve, similarly, is panicking. He streams family friendly content now. He can't just get into fights. He can't stream until his face heals as it is.)

Billy feels even more like shit when his follower count goes up and his account sees more activity than it has since the move. Like it's a reward for beating up Harrington, or something. It's not right. 

(The same happens to Steve.)

So Billy has an idea. He wants to apologize to Harrington. Wants to make it up to him. Maybe he can help him get his popularity back, get his channel to how it used to be, somehow. And if it keeps his own account alive, well. 

It takes a little convincing, but Steve agrees. Dustin is trying to get him into his nerdy games, but Steve isn't sure he likes them. Steve's been having a hard time, since the second round with the Upside Down. He can't sleep, can't focus, Nancy went off with Jonathan. So maybe he wants a distraction, okay? Maybe he wants something that isn't life or death.

So Billy and Steve start a partnership of sorts. Steve films a couple of youtube videos playing co-op games with Billy. Branches out to TikTok, maybe. Starts bringing Billy to his streams, at first just to hang out and then to take over and play some stuff. Billy manages to burn down Steve's entire 9th generation legacy mansion on The Sims in 30 minutes. Billy and Steve play Dead By Daylight together, and Steve feels increasingly comfortable playing horror games with Billy around. 

It's working so well for Steve, he decides he wants to pay it back. So he teaches Billy to ice skate so they can make content for Billy's TikTok. Steve takes Billy sledding when it snows. Billy films Steve falling asleep in unlikely places during the day and not waking up when Billy piles things on him. 

Steve hunts down and finds Billy's old surfing board that Neil sold and buys it back.

At some point, Steve becomes Billy's best friend. If he could- If they could, Billy would- They could be more, Billy thinks. But they're all over the internet, and Billy doesn't think Neil watches their content, but word can get back to him really easily. People like to speculate as it is. It's a small fucking town. 

The climax would be, of course, getting Billy out of Neil's house. Getting Neil arrested. So Billy can be free.

(Feel free to explore and play with this AU as you like!!)

[wardenparker]

Ghostly Touch

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst​

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 11.2k Warnings: Supernatural shenanigans, mentions of death and deceased significant others. Oral sex (female receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, ghost sex. Yep. That’s right. Ghost sex. Summary: Starting over isn’t easy, but when you discover a handsome spirit inhabiting the house you’ve just rented, things take a very interesting and unexpected turn. Notes: Happy Spooktober everyone! Please enjoy this little tale inspired by ‘The Ghost and Mrs. Muir’ with a fun little twist ending that *DOES NOT* appear in the warnings. 🎃🧡🤠

One hundred and twenty-seven years he’s been trapped. Only aware of the time as things change. The home that he had built with his own two hands - his pride for his family making it as sturdy as he could - slowly changed through the years. The foundation was solid, the walls buffeting the winds and rains of the years. The changes came from the installation of water in the house, something he had never thought really feasible. Especially eliminating the outhouse. Electricity came next. Wires that he didn’t understand but the need for candles diminished. Slowly the old place was added onto, changed until the bones of the homestead were buried beneath a house he didn’t recognize. Still, he rambles around. Often undetected by those that inhabited his space. Wonderin’ why he couldn’t leave the house he never returned to after his sweet wife’s death. The house that never really became the home he had dreamed of when he had set the first stone of the foundation.

******

It’s a cute, old thing. A little rundown, but that made it cheaper to rent and you figured you could handle some of the upgrades yourself since you were pretty handy. Updated light fixtures, a new coat of paint, replacing the more worn down of the pipes. It should all be fine. This fresh start was well earned.

On the heels of a stack of personal tragedies, you had made the decision to pick up your life and move a few states over to a new home and a new job. This furnished farmhouse is the perfect chance to get back on your feet. And frankly, as you stand on the front porch and turn the key in the lock, you’re just glad you got here. That truck could have flattened you on the highway, but you walked away without so much as a scratch.

Someone new is here. Jack doesn’t really remember what he was doing, just drifting through the house, when he hears the crunch of a car pull up. So much different than the horse and wagon he had driven. His curiosity peaked, moseying over to the window to look out and see who had come to visit him.

“Dusty in here,” you mumble to yourself, when the first thing you encounter on walking through the front door is a cloud of the stuff. Renting the place sight unseen probably should have been a clue to you that it would be a little less cared for, but ultimately you don’t mind. A little dust never hurts anybody.

It’s a woman…Jack hums to himself as he watches her walk in. Looking around the place with her hands on her hips and a slight frown marring what would be a pretty face otherwise. It reminded him of when his dear sweet wife was cross with him. Normally when he had forgotten to fix something while he was home. He grins to himself at the idea, remembering how he would sweep her into his arms and kiss her until that brow unknitted and she was blushing prettily.

The place is nice enough. Old fashioned charm tempered by a hundred or more years of renovations and ‘updates’ that were now outdated. There’s plenty of decent farmhouse style furniture left from the last owners, who you didn’t get a whole lot of information on, and there’s a big painting over the mantle of a cowboy that you really just have to stop and inspect.

“Well hi there,” you joke out loud, as though it were a person in front of you and not a painting. “I didn’t know I was getting a roommate when I rented the place.” The piece must be as old as the house from the look of it, and you wonder if it was some original bit of decor that previous owners kept around for ambiance. Whoever the subject was, he was kind of dreamy…big brown eyes and carefully trimmed mustache highlighting an angular face and lips set in a perfect Cupid’s bow. “You stay right where you are, handsome,” you tell the painting out loud, and laugh to yourself.

Jack smirks, watching her talk to the painting. “You’re not bad looking yourself, sugar.” Jack draws, looking her up and down. It’s been awhile since he’s felt anything like attraction, but he’s dead - not blind.

The confusion - not quite concern - on your face is evident immediately. “Hello?” You call out into the shadows of the house, wondering who could possibly be here. Someone from the landlord’s office maybe? The super turning things on for you? “Is someone else here?”

Jack steps into the room, wondering if she sees him. Watching as her eyes roam over the doorway and don't sharpen on his frame. Shit. He shakes his head in disappointment that this will be harder than he assumed. "Well damn." He huffs to himself before he turns around and walks back out of the room, retreating to the space he had claimed as his own to think about how to handle this situation.

“I can hear you.” The distinct sound of a man with a southern accent cursing isn’t lost on your ears and you frown, wondering why the Super would be hiding from you. And where. “Show yourself.” The idea of a break in or a robber is also alarming, and you reach for a poker from the nearby dusty fireplace set. Better a makeshift weapon than none - just in case.

Jack stops, turning around at the announcement that she can hear him. Maybe it wasn't too bad. Maybe it wouldn't take long to get her used to the situation. Turning around, he decides that he will put a little more effort into showing himself to her as he walks back into the room.

The ice cold brush of something otherworldly whips through the air as a shadowy figure appears in the doorway to the parlor and you swear you haven’t breathed a single breath or sigh this entire time. “Y-you’re…you’re not Mr. Turner.” The super that you had FaceTimed with was an extremely tall, lanky sort of man - blonde without a single speck of facial hair in sight. “If you’re here to rob me, the moving truck isn’t even here yet. I don’t have anything valuable on me.”

Jack chuckles and shakes his head, admiring her spirit. "Not gonna rob you, sugar." He promises. "Couldn't take it away if I wanted to." He wants to know her name, why she's here. It's obvious she didn't know about him and that's a fun little intrigue. Especially considering all his previous guests had known about him.

“What the hell does that mean?” You demand, trying to stand fuller and taller as he comes more into the light. He’s broad and looks stronger than you’ve ever been - which does not bode well for a fight.

"This is my house, sugar." He draws, arching a brow at her and nods his chin up. "What's your name?"

“Oh, you’re the landlord.” A little dramatic, but you’ll take it. Glancing at the fireplace tool in your hand, you carefully set it back in its holder and hold out your hand as you introduce yourself.

"Not quite." Jack stares at your hand in amusement for a moment before he reaches out and grasps your hand, eyes fixated on yours when his clammy essence touches yours.

It would be impolite to wipe your hands on your jeans after shaking his hand, but it’s a weird, flimsy kind of moment that makes you shiver again so you paint on an extremely pillowy smile to cover your uneasiness. “Not quite? Do you work for the rental office?”

"Can't say as I do, sugar." Jack reaches up and pulls off his head to give you a polite bow. "Jack Daniels, at your service."

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Daniels.” At least it would be if he weren’t standing in your living room unexpectedly. “But at the risk of being rude, can I ask what the hell you’re doing in my house?”

Jack chuckles again, flashing white teeth at you. "Now sugar, I believe that I told you that this is my house." He reminds you in amusement. "Been mine since I set the foundation."

“That’s…” Tilting your head at him, you set your hands on your hips and nearly chuckle. It’s a hollow sound, anyway. “Is this some kind of welcome to the neighborhood practical joke? Hire a reenactor to play the ghost of the guy who built the place?” It would account for the cold, if they had been playing with the air conditioning in the house. “I know the place is supposed to be haunted, ha ha. Very funny. Thank you for coming, but there’s the door.”

Jack hums, deciding to give you the space you so desperately want. It must be confusing for you right now. Nodding respectfully, his boots thump on the wooden floors as he makes his way to the door and opens it. Stepping outside, he knows your view is blocked by the door, he disappears from sight.

The prank makes no sense to you, and as the man goes through the front door you try to shake off the slight nervous energy his presence left you with. No need to be anxious over some town weirdo, you tell yourself sternly. Time to wipe the dust off the plane and get down to the business of making it home.

Jack stays invisible, watching as you wander around the house, amused as you drag box after box from your car. One box full of cleaning supplies as well, humming in amusement as you roll up your sleeves and starting to clean.

All day long and into the night, the dusting and cleaning and rearranging goes on. The moon is well past risen when you realize that you haven’t eaten anything all day and aren’t even hungry. Stress off the day, you tell yourself. That near accident must have freaked you out more than you thought. Everything will be fine again tomorrow and you’ll drive into town to stock up on groceries now that the refrigerator is clean and ready to go. But for now? It might be time for bed…if only to get away from that painting in the living room. He might be handsome, but that prank guy sure looked a hell of a lot like him. Like a creepy amount. Maybe you can ask someone in town about him tomorrow.

Jack watches as you set up the air mattress you had dragged in. It amazed him how inventive people have become. Remembering how he had slept many a night on the hard ground. Or a hay stuffed ticking.

You can't precisely remember falling asleep, but the world melts away at a certain point in the night and you're even able to forget the penetrating brown eyes of that damn painting to drift into dreamless unconsciousness.

*****

The next morning should be heralded with the arrival of the moving truck. The rest of your boxes and your few pieces of personal furniture delivered by a group of professionals safely and efficiently. Deciding to wait to go into town until after they've left, you barely even notice that - again - you aren't hungry. But you will be eventually so groceries must be had. It's probably just the stress throwing off your appetite, which happens from time to time.

“Howdy sugar.” Jack knocks on the frame of the kitchen door this time, unwilling to scare you. He’s wondering if you’ve noticed the fact that you’ve been humming to yourself.

"What--?" When you spin around at the voice in the doorway a confused frown pulls down at the corners of your mouth. Apparently you're going to have to keep your doors locked at all times to keep this joker from just waltzing in. "You're persistent, I'll give you that." You tell him, drawing yourself up to your full height to look at him. The resemblance to that painting really is remarkable - you have to give him credit for commitment. "But you're trespassing. Even landlords have to give notice before they just show up at your door. Or...in your kitchen, as the case may be."

Jack hums, unconcerned by your declaration of him trespassing. Shrugging slightly, he shoots you a grin, tucking his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans. “Thought we established yesterday this place is mine. ‘Though I can’t say as I mind sharin’ it with a pretty lady.”

"Right. You built the place. How could I forget?" You'll ignore that slight tickle in the back of your head at the compliment, even if it is nice to hear. "So should I just expect you to come and go as you please, then?"

He sends you a small wink, smirking at the sarcasm. He’s always liked a woman with a little spunk. God knows his wife, rest her poor soul, could make a grown man quake in his boots if he found himself on the wrong side of her skillet. “Now you’re gettin’ the idea.” He chortles. “But I’m a good housemate, I promise.”

"You're certainly something. I'm just not sure what." It should bother you more. It should downright infuriate you. It should even scare you. But all you do is shake your head and huff in vague amusement.

“You’ve never met someone like me, sugar.” There’s something about the way that you tilt your head that is wonderfully familiar. He smiles at you again. “Gettin’ settled in alright? The window in the northern wall likes to jam at night, if you’re wanting to open it.”

"I'll look out for that," you eye him with curious suspicion but ultimately choose not to get hostile. If he's disturbed - or weirder, some kind of prominent community member - you don't want to make a big thing out of any of this. Instead you'll just tap him for information, if he actually has any. "So what can you tell me about the house? Since you built it and all? There were rumors that it's haunted and that's why the rent is so cheap."

“Oh it is haunted.” Jack confirms easily, grinning at you as he runs his hand along one of the oak panels of the wall lovingly. “I built her in 1852 for my sweetheart.” He tells you, frowning slightly when a bout of melancholy hits him. The pain had faded, replaced with bittersweet remembrance. Maybe it was why he was a ghost. He had been hellbent on revenge and destruction in her name when he had passed. “Carved our names in the beam in the bedroom.” He waggles his eyebrows. “For good reason.”

"Is that so?" It makes you laugh a little despite yourself. This guy's committed to the bit and enjoying it. "So who's the ghost then? Is it her? Waiting for her husband to come home from whatever war or gallivanting?"

“No.” Jack frowns and shakes his head. His thumbs drop from his loops and he sighs. “Abigail, sweet woman, she passed on.” It made him ache, the fact that she was apparently gone on and he lingered. “She died in 1853, six months after the house was finished.” Jack coughs and glances over at you. “The ghost is me, sugar.”

"Sure." The laugh is a snort this time as you lean against the kitchen counter and cross your arms over your chest in a move you don't quite recognize as defensive. "You're a ghost. The man standing right in front of me, clear as day, is dead. I gotta say, you're certainly committed to the bit and that...that almost makes me want to applaud you."

It’s slightly petty maybe, but the laugh annoys him. Especially when he had been talking about his sweetheart. “There’s no ‘bit’.” He snorts. “But you’re a stubborn thing, so perhaps I should prove it.”

“Oh please do.” You all but roll your eyes, wondering if he’s got a personal smoke machine tucked into that getup somewhere. Or whatever other prop he would use like a magician doing sight of hand. “I would love to see proof.”

“Fine.” His answer is short and clipped, giving you a small glare as he just disappears into thin air.

“What the FUCK?!” Jumping back does nothing with the wall right at your back and you can practically feel your jaw hit the ground. You’re standing in your own kitchen. Even after only being here for a day you know there aren’t any tricks or traps in this room. Feeling frozen for a second, when you come out of it you just start waving your arms in front of you trying to find the place he was just standing. There is nothing but a pool of cold air in his former space and a sinking feeling of confusion grasping at your chest.

“Believe me now, sugar?” Jack asks, still not making himself visible but the words are whispered in your ear.

The proximity makes you jump, looking around nearly frantically for where he could be. “Ghosts aren’t real,” you protest, though all evidence supports the contrary.

Jack snorts and realizes that you just aren’t ready. “Whatever you say, sugar.” He murmurs sadly. “Enjoy your unpacking.” He blows through the space in a sharp, cold wind.

“Fuck…” It’s whispered to yourself this time, as you slump against the wall. Ghosts don’t exist. That’s a superstitious old wives’ tale. It’s for horror movies and campfire stories. But if that’s the case…then what the hell just happened right in front you?

Jack sulks. Irritated that you don’t seem to believe in him. He’s never had someone here that hasn’t before. Although he never interacted with most who stayed here like he had with you. He retreats to the attic where he stayed normally, not because he had to, but because it gave him a kick to be the quintessential ghost after one of the teenagers that had lived here was into spirits and the occult. He had played into her ideals and had fun doing it.

******

It's maybe an hour later when the moving truck shows up. A truck full of misogynist assholes who completely ignore every single word you say to them and just dump the rest of your furniture and boxes in the living room. They barely even look at you the entire time they're going in and out of the house, just muttering to each other about whatever the next job is that they have to get to and how creepy they think the house is and who's buying drinks at the bar after work. It's maddening to the point where you're nearly screaming to watch them completely disregard everything you talked about when they loaded up your place yesterday and the frustration has you on the edge of sanity as they shrug their shoulders and shut the front door behind them, leaving you entirely ignored as they go.

Jack had watched you, skulking still as you mutter to yourself about ‘assholes’ and start moving things around yourself. He huffs, sighing dramatically as he was want to do and rolls his eyes at his own sense of chivalry. “Need a hand?”

"Do ghosts move furniture?" You mumble, mostly embarrassed that he's still here and undoubtedly saw what went down with the movers. Nosy neighbor or lingering spirit - whatever he is, he witnessed you just being wholly disrespected.

“I could watch you suffer, but I would think it’s a shame to not assist a pretty lady in need.” He’s slightly mollified by your answer, and he can tell it’s going to take time for you to get used to your new home.

"That's...nice of you." It's humbling, this whole situation, and you're not happy about it. If he's going to be here, at least he's not going to be an asshole or make fun of you. Sighing heavily, you squeeze your eyes shut tight before opening them again to look up at him. "Thank you."

“It’s nothing, rommie.” Jack gives you a tiny wink, just a quick flash of sass and starts to roll up his sleeves. “Where do you want things, sug?”

"Well..." Looking around, it is abundantly clear how fucked you would be without help. "I guess the first thing is to get the pieces of my bed upstairs so I can put it together?"

“Hope it’s comfy.” Jack walks over to the mattress and grabs it with a grunt. “Something to be said about stuffin’ a ticking after it was in place.”

"Stuffin' a ticking?" You raise an eyebrow at him as you take hold of the other end of the mattress.

“Yeah.” Jack shrugs. “A mattress. Stuffing it with straw or hay.” He smiles. “Smells so sweet and rustles every time you move.”

"So..." There's no mistaking the fact that he is gripping the mattress as the two of you wrangle it up the stairs, and the hostility you felt earlier at having an intruder is giving way to unending curiosity. After all, the man did just disappear into thin air in front of you this morning. "If you're...what you say you are...how can you touch things?" Even Casper had to drink a potion to get his body back - and you hadn't exactly found a Lazarus machine in the basement of this place.

He chuckles and gives a small shrug. “Apparently so.” He’s never really questioned it. “I’m really old. What year is it now?”

"2022." He had mentioned the 1850s earlier, and you're not exactly a history buff but his outfit definitely reads frontiersman.

“Damn.” Jack grunts appropriately, although he’s not going to get tired in the human sense. He’s a spirit. He might need to drift for a while and recharge, but that was normal.

"Older than you thought you were?" You flash him a teasing grin.

“Considering I was born in 1822, I’d say so.” Jack huffs, amazed so much time has passed.

"Pretty spry for a centenarian." The mattress gets leaned up against the wall of the empty bedroom that you had put your air mattress in last night and you dust your hands off.

“What can I say?” He holds his hands out and gives a small bow. “I’m timeless.”

It surprises both of you when you laugh, and the small moment is comfortable and warm instead of the tension you've felt before this. "Say I believed you," you talk over your shoulder, turning your head a little as you troop back down the stairs for the next piece of your bed frame. "Why haven't you just...you know... Gone to the light?"

Jack sighs. “That I don’t know.” He murmurs honestly. “I tried to meet the good lord and my sweetheart for years before I ended up back here one day - I had left and vowed to never return.”

"So you're stuck?" The typical story for ghosts was always unfinished business, so the idea of just not being able to move on strikes you as particularly sad.

“I’m guessin’ so.” Jack is used to it, although he had been furious for a while. “It’s not like there’s been anyone to talk to about it.”

The two of you move to the next piece of furniture, lugging it upstairs together with surprising ease. "I can't be the first person you've talked to. I mean...you're right there. It's not like you're see through and talking in whispers or something."

Jack hums and gives a small shrug of his shoulders. “Well, you did mention the place was haunted, didn’t you?” He chuckles. “No two people have the same experience with me.”

He has you there, you have to admit - the rumor of the place being haunted is one of the only things people could agree on about this house aside from loving the original brick fireplace. “I guess you’ve seen a lot of people come and go.”

“The place has seen a lot of people.” He admits, shuffling his feet slightly and looking around. “And changes. So many changes. My sweetheart would have loved not using a pot or an outhouse. And having a bath on command.”

“What happened to her?” In the last few minutes, whether you wanted to or not - and without any more prodding - believing him has started to creep under your skin.

“Horse thieves.” Jack’s jaw clenched and anger flashes in his eyes. “I was workin’, about two days ride from home and stinkin’ horse thieves decided they wanted to steal the pair of Arabians that were her pride and joy.” His fists clench and he looks out the window towards the old barn, long demolished but he can see the pen like it was yesterday. “She was seven months gone with my little boy. And they decided she would be an easy target.”

“Shit…” If you were honest with yourself, you expected disease or childbirth or some tragic accident - the usual frontier stuff - not outright murder. “I—I’m sorry,” you murmur, seeing the obvious passion on his face. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Not your fault, sug.” He sighs and rolls his shoulders back to let go of the negative thought. Those men are long dispatched to hell. “She’s buried on the hill out there.” He points to a large, sprawling oak. “Her and our little boy. At least they’re together.”

You frown, not remembering seeing any stones or markers under the tree behind the house when you went for a walk yesterday. Maybe later on you’ll take a rake and a towel out there and see if you can’t dig away whatever debris is covering the graves. “The idea of being robbed has always terrified me,” you admit quietly. “Home invaders. Thieves. That kind of thing.”

Jack nods. “It’s not something that you would enjoy, sugar.” He promises. “Although you don’t need to worry about that none.” No one who has lived in the home he had built would ever have to worry about thieves while he was inhabiting the place.

“No?” Situating the headboard of your bed against the far wall under the windows, you instinctively wipe your hands again and shove them in your pockets. “Is that part of your roommate service? Furniture moving, haunting, and protection?”

“Absolutely.” Jack nods quickly. “I consider it my purpose.”

That probably shouldn’t reassure you the way it does. A self-professed ghost in boots and spurs that goes around calling you sugar shouldn’t actually make you feel calm and safe. But somehow you’re still staring down at the toes of your sneakers and nodding with a smile pushing at the corners of your lips. “No sneaking peeks while I’m showering or changing or anything like that,” you warn him in an obviously teasing tone. “That would be immodest.”

He smirks, lifting a brow at you playfully. “Now, sugar…” he draws, “what kind of man do you take me for?” He asks. “I prefer all my shows of skin to be deliberate.”

“If I’m ever in an exhibitionist mood, I’ll let you know,” you joke, nearly snorting at the idea. Ghost porn sounds like a sub genre for the hyper specific.

Jack grins and shoots you another wink. “Let’s get you settled in before we start thinkin’ of burlesque acts.”

It’s surprisingly easy to joke with a man - entity, whatever he is - that you were wary of only yesterday. The fact is that there’s something familiar about him that you can’t shake. Comfortable. But in a way you can’t quite put your finger on. By the time all the furniture is in place it’s been a whole day chatting and teasing and working together easily…and a part of you swears you would be asking him out for a drink if you weren’t finally ready to admit to yourself that you believe his story.

Jack looks around, nodding in approval. “Looks like you are all set.” He hums happily. He knows that you need to feel settled. That’s the most important thing right now. “I’ll let you tinker around on your own. Just holler if you need me.”

“Uh…Jack?” Before he can leave the room, you stop him. Albeit hesitantly. “Where do you…when you disappear…where do you go? Are you just here and I can’t see you? Or do you have a room that you like to stay in?”

He chuckles, wondering if you’re worrying about him haunting your bedroom. Sneaking those shows that you had teased him about. “Want to say about nineteen twenty, there was this gal who was mighty interested in spooks and ghosts.” He tells you with amusement. “She went searchin’ in the attic so that’s where I’ve made my home. Makes it authentic for folks.”

"Okay." You give him a nod and shove your hands in your pockets again, shoulders rounding in that same way they always do when you're a little unsure of yourself. "The attic is yours, then. I won't come up without permission. You...you should have your own space. Even roommates have their own spaces."

“Darlin’, you come in whenever you want.” He frowns and huffs slightly as he crosses his arms over his chest. “What’re you really worried about?” He swears the movement of you rounding your shoulders reminds him of his own sweet Abigail.

"It's just..." Shrugging again does nothing but make your eyes drop to the floor between you. "Anybody I've ever lived with has always wanted their own space. So I figure you should have it, too. That's all." In fact, living in a house with your late husband's mother and sister for a year after his passing had been more like a game of where am I allowed to go in my own home? as opposed to the opposite. And even Daniel had insisted that he have his man cave where you wouldn't go without explicit invitation.

Jack frowns and shakes his head. “Never really had much issues with sharin’ spaces.” He chuckles and looks around. “People said I was a fool for makin’ three bedrooms when I built this place. Especially as large as they are. Said I was plannin’ on a passel of kids.”

"Nothing wrong with that." At one time you had had the same plan yourself, though the dream had died about the same time as your husband.

“Yeah.” He itches to reach out and touch you, but he doesn’t. “I’m not gonna be bothered at all if you want some company.”

"Likewise." In fact, you're actually a little disappointed that he's retreating. It's been a nice day. The nicest one you've ever had with a ghost, you think with a small smile. "I'm gonna go sit out on the porch for a little while, I think. If you feel like coming down later, I'll probably still be there."

“Sure thing, sugar.” He wants to sit with you now, but he also feels like you need some space. Time to process everything. “You enjoy your time.”

It’s far after dark when he appears again - probably around midnight if your internal clock is still anything to go by. The love seat out there is a rocker - an intimate place for two that had come with the house and now you wonder how long it’s been there. If Jack had sat out here with his wife and held her as they watched the sun go down, or if he had told grand stories of the past to the spiritualist girl in the twenties. Getting that damned cowboy off your mind has been nearly impossible and you can feel the smile break out across your face when he appears in the front door of the house. “Come to visit?” You ask, patting the seat beside you. The coolness of his presence will be nice.

“Figured you might be a little lonely.” He hums, not wanting to admit that he wanted to spend more time with you. He’s never been drawn to a person like this before and he’s eager to figure out why.

“You’re not wrong.” Patting the seat again, you scoot over a little to make sure he has enough room to sit without glitching through you like a buggy video game character. “It’s a nice house, Jack. Comfortable and…and welcoming. Even if the whole haunted bit might keep people away these days.”

“Sometimes it’s the right deterrent.” He snorts, pushing off the swing with his toe to make the two of you sway gently. “Most who believe in spirits and don’t mind sharing space aren’t assholes.”

Over the last couple of hours you had weighed some pros and cons with yourself, dug a little into your own spirituality, and talked out loud to your husband’s memory as though he had been sitting right there where Jack is now. The process had been as wrenching as it was cathartic, but in the end it had brought you through a very real kind of self-therapy. “I lost my husband,” you tell him quietly, having decided hours ago that you would tell him of this very important circumstance you both shared. “A year ago. I just…thought you should know. I understand how much you must miss her.”

“I’m really sorry, sugar.” Jack looks over at you with a commiserating expression that only a grieving spouse would understand. “If you want to talk about it, I’ll listen.”

“There really isn’t much to say.” You shrug your shoulders, appreciating the opportunity nonetheless. Somehow you knew Jack would be the offering type. “He was a sailor. We met at some godforsaken house party that we had both gone to with other people and ended up leaving together. Before I knew it, it was six months later and he was asking me to marry him before his next deployment. And he—” Apparently promising yourself that you wouldn’t cry talking about it meant nothing in reality, as you sniffle back tears. “He never came home.”

Jack sighs softly, unfolding his arm and wrapping it around the back of your shoulder. He hates that you had to deal with that. “I hate to hear that.” He murmurs. Offering you a shoulder to cry or just a sympathetic hug.

Feeling actual weight around your back when his arm unfurls takes you off guard. Obviously he doesn’t radiate heat like a living man, but you also haven't expected him to have form like one, despite the fact that he had been lugging around furniture with you all day. Instantly, it’s as though a magnet has pulled you together as you sink against his very solid side. “Is this…normal?” There is disbelief in your voice - wonderment, really - that you’re able to touch him at all.

"Depends on what kind of mood I'm in." Jack admits, glossing over the years of playing and concentrating on his forms that had occurred when he had accepted his death. "But yes, I can touch you and it's not quite the same as a living being, but pretty damn close."

“Well I’ll be damned,” you huff, shaking your head once in disbelief. “That’s—that’s incredible.”

“Ghosts aren’t what you imagine, sugar.” Jack sends you a little wink and smirks when you fluster, fidgeting with the rope of the swing.

“I guess not.” That is something you can admit to easily, considering your imagination of them before meeting him had been movie characters. But you chew on your bottom lip and let out a soft laugh anyway, Deciding to call him out with a little teasing. “Never figured ghosts would be flirts.”

His fingers dance over your shoulder playfully, admiring the way your laugh sounds. “Always was a flirt.” He admits. “My momma said I came into the world to be a menace.”

“Your momma knew what she was talking about.” His chuckle doesn’t have the breathy quality to it that a living man’s might, but you supposed that must be because he doesn’t breathe - although you’re not going to try to hammer out the physics of how he can speak if he isn’t breathing air into his body to pump out again. Nope, don’t think about pumping. Don’t think about Jack and pumping. Leave the hot ghost alone.

He smirks and leans just a tiny bit closer. “Your face gives you away, sugar.” He draws, sending you another wink.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” you mumble, quickly composing the blankest expression possible over every feature and clearing your throat gently. It’s not like he’s the first man you’ve found attractive since meeting Daniel and he’s not even alive. No, that would just make the whole thing weird.

“Whatever you say.” He won’t tease you, not when your shoulders are rounding again. “Musta be seein’ things.”

“It’s just…”A small shrug makes you slip a light closer to his side and you don’t try to stop it, feeling both introspective and infinitely confused. “It’s hard to wrap my head around.”

"Havin' dirty thoughts about a ghost?" He ticks an eyebrow up in amusement and enjoys the way your eyes widen. "It's not like I've not had a stray thought or two floatin' around in my head. Especially when you were bent over that box going through it."

“I meant ghosts being real.” You protest with half-hearted exasperation, but the curve of amusement in your lips is unmistakable. “But yeah, if I’m honest? Having a hot ghost housemate is gonna take a little adjustment time.”

Jack snorts and shakes his head. "Sugar, if I touched you...." He sighs and looks out over the land that had once been his. "You would feel it as if I were the same as you." It's not like he's never thought of what it would be like. He has. Even as a ghost, he has feelings, urges and almost needs.

“Menace.” The word is out of your mouth before you can stop it, though it makes you chuckle in amusement. You really can’t ever resist a challenge.

"That's me." He chuckles and he doesn't bother hiding it as he lets his fingers slide under the edge of your sleeve, barely brushing your skin. "Menace since the day I was born and well after I died."

It tingles in a way you can’t describe, pleasant and fuzzy and with that familiarity that doesn’t really make any sense but can’t be denied. It probably doesn’t help that you always had a thing about cowboys when you were younger. “Well after,” you agree, letting yourself be drawn a hair closer. There’s something so - unique, perhaps - about the situation that makes you want to explore it.

He smirks at how you agree with him. "Least you're learning, sugar." He jokes, as he looks back at the view. It's nice and relaxing. Something that has been a long time needed for him. He feels you scoot closer again and he feels your face close to his own. If he would turn his head, he would be close to kissing you.

“I do that pretty quickly, I’m told.” At least, once you accept something as truth, you tend to accept it and adjust completely fairly fast. Sometimes it just takes you a little while to catch on. In this moment it’s like you have fully hit the button on acceptance, though the sensation of a cool face next to yours with no puffs of warm breath is still a little bit odd.

"Mhmmm." Jack can agree with that. You've not taken too long to believe that he isn't of the living realm. "I'm sure you are told a lot of things, sugar."

You barely manage to stifle a snort with your free hand, shoulders shaking a little with restrained laughter. “Mmhmm,” you manage to agree, though you don’t immediately follow it up with a crack about how you’re normally being told what a good girl you are or how well you’re taking whatever it was Daniel was doing to give you both pleasure. “Definitely get told a lot of things.”

"Oh really?" He has an inkling about what you are talking about from the way your voice pitches down slightly, gets breathy. Times may have changed but that hadn't from what he could tell. "I'm sure you like being told those things."

“Only if I’ve earned it.” The grin on your face tells him he’s exactly right about what kind of things you love to be told, and you shift slightly against him again just to feel his fingers trace aimlessly on your arm. “And if I like the person saying them.”

"Yeah?" Jack's voice drops and his eyes turn darker. "And if I told you things?" He asks, wondering if you would let him. Chalk it up to an experience you can't pass up. "Would you listen?"

When you turn your head to face him, he’s always looking at you with such an intensity that it sends a shiver down your spine that has nothing to do with the coolness of sitting beside a ghost. A ghost. He’s a ghost! But…he can touch you. And if that’s possible than maybe anything is possible and if anything is possible then you’re definitely not the first person to have this chance before. Or maybe you are — and if that’s the case then you can’t just give it up. “Maybe.” You nod slightly, feeling a familiar spark in your chest run down your body like wildfire. “Seems like you wanna find out.”

“I might be dead, sugar, but I’m not dead.” He jokes. “‘Specially when I’ve got a woman as pretty as you are here and given me signs she might be open to gettin’ to know each other a little more…intimately.”

This time you really can’t resist laughing, shaking your head at yourself as your search his face. “Does that make me the horniest person in the entire world? To be this way to get dicked down by a fucking ghost?”

Jack whistles between his teeth. “Call it adventurous.” He tells you. “And you won’t know if you like it until you try it. My recovery time is short and I never get winded.”

“Does that mean you’ve done this before?” One eyebrow ticks up in question - you really have to admit that you’re intrigued by the possibility.

"Only in the art of self love, sugar." He's never attempted to have sex with a human before but he knows he can do this, bring you pleasure.

You can’t help it, that just makes you grin like an teenager, lips curved in absolute amusement. “People would probably be a lot less scared of the ghost in this house if they knew he was up in the attic jerking off.”

He snorts and shakes his head. "Now sugar..." He huffs and rolls his eyes at you. "I've got all eternity that I know of. Of course I'm takin' care of needs."

“Well I’m sorry.” The teasing has brought you so close together that if you so much as shift you’ll bump his nose with your own. “I just had no idea the afterlife could be dirty.”

"Come on." He grins, leaning in slightly and brushing his mustache over your lips but keeps from kissing you. "Remember I can watch beautiful women undress anytime I want - if I was a scoundrel."

The way your eyelids flutter shut is almost comical, and you could swear that your heart has leapt up into your throat at this point. “So being a menace is different than being a scoundrel?”

"Menaces asks permission to kiss the pretty girl." He tells you breathlessly. "Scoundrels would just take it."

“Guess I’m a scoundrel, then,” you decide, just before pressing into his space to close the minuscule gap between your own lips and his.

He's surprised that you take the reins but he holds his own. His arm pulls you closer and his other hand comes up to cup your cheek and guide your mouth open while he tilts his head to deepen the kiss.

He was right, you realize with glee as your own hand travels up his chest to rest on his shoulder as Jack pulls you closer. There’s not a damn speck of difference in how good this feels compared to any other kiss before - and it might even be better in a lot of ways, because as much as you loved Daniel kissing was not his strong suit. Instead, Jack is forceful and tender in equal measure, and you swear the only thing that could make it better would be hearing that gorgeous gasp as you steal his breath away. Not that you mind the soft moan that draws out of him instead. Not at all.

You have all the time in the world and he keeps that in mind as he kisses you. Keeping his mouth on your lips, slowly licking into your mouth and his tongue slides against yours. He doesn't want to move too fast, savoring the first kiss he's had in a very long time and still it was as familiar as the last time.

It’s languid. Indulgent. Needy without being desperate. Exploratory and passionate, as your fingers twist in his surprisingly tangible shirt and try to drag him as close as you can possibly have him. That familiar feeling that you can’t quite name is screaming in the back of your head but it’s nothing that interferes with the gorgeous pleasure polling between your thighs - rather it makes it all the more intense.

Finally, he pulls away from your lips, smirking to himself as he 'ghosts' kisses down your jaw and neck. Loving the little moans that has his cock starting to stir rapidly and pushing against his jeans. Now his hand starts to roam, respectfully at first and then caressing your curves more confidently when you aren't pushing him away.

“Jack…” His name is a whimper at first and it amuses you when you hear it from yourself. Pleasure should make you happy after all, and right now every inch of you is lit up with pleasure - especially when his palm tests the weight of one of your tits. “Maybe we should go inside?” If someone were to walk or drive by, you would look pretty strange.

He pulls away reluctantly with a chuckle and nods. Happy to see your eyes misty with passion and drops his hand from your chest to take one of your hands in his. "Let's go inside sugar." He agrees. "You can decide to invite me into that bedroom of yours if you want to."

“The bed is infinitely more comfortable than my couch,” you admit, giving his hand a small squeeze as you duck inside and lock the front door behind you. Reason tells you that you won’t be coming down again tonight. “Come on upstairs, handsome.”

He smirks and nods. "After you, sugar." He offers, motioning to the stairs. "Want to see that cute ass sway in front of me."

Rolling your eyes at him is fully for show, but the dramatic sway you put in your hips as you climb the stairs before him is absolutely not. Nothing about this is false or put on - because what would the point be? No, everything about the way you're feeling is as real as you are. At the top of the stairs you turn the corner, leaning against the frame of your open bedroom door as Jack takes the last two stairs in one long stride.

He whistles through his teeth and chuckles as he reaches out to slap your ass as you start to walk off towards your bedroom.

For all the playfulness of the moment, none of the passion has been lost. Jack advances on you with purpose and you grin, slipping backward out of his grip to lead him deeper into your room. Because honestly - if you're going to do this - why not have fun with it?

He catches on quickly, his boot steps light and quick. "Leadin' me on a chase, sugar." He chuckles and shakes his head. "I'll be your huckleberry."

It's not as if the room is overly large, dominated as it is by your king sized bed and sprawling vanity. It's just a good thing that you don't have all of your bottles and trays of things out on your vanity because you bump the back of your legs against it as Jack finally 'catches' you, after what was basically a very short game of cat and mouse.

"Gottcha now." He growls playfully, leaning in and making you shriek as he lifts you as if you weigh nothing and hauling you over his shoulder. "Now I'm gonna haul you off and have my way with you."

The idea that a specter could have that sort of strength is at once unbelievable and wonderful, and you cling to him in any way you can to keep your balance before he tosses you onto the bed with ease. "Shit," you grin up at him from your back. "Make a habit out of doing that and you can have me anywhere you want me."

He snickers and looks down at you with pride as he moves to grab your shoe to help strip you down. "Like that, did you?" He hums. "Might have to dig that rope out of the attic too and see how you feel about that."

"I was married to a sailor," you remind him, kicking off your other shoe and sitting up to peel off your socks. "I am extremely good with ropes and knots."

"Won't be better than a cowboy or a Pinkerton." He boasts, reaching up to strip off his own shirt over his head.

"You were a Pinkerton?" Those detectives were the stuff of legend, and it definitely perks an interest in the back of your mind that is going to all but beg him for stories later on. Later, when you're not admiring the expanse of golden skin in front of you with hungry eyes and eager hands. Your own clothes can't be shed fast enough, not with him looking at you like he's about to turn you into the best feast he's ever had in his life.

His own boots come off and he nods. "Sure was, sugar." He flicks open the button of his jeans and he practically licks his lips when you start to pry off your undergarments.

“Well damn, Jack, lead with that next time.” The teasing is truly too easy, and you grin at the way his eyes are glued to your chest as you unhook your bra. “No easier way to charm a girl’s pants off than to be one of the most legendary detectives of all time.”

He can’t deny that today’s clothing is a hell of a lot easier to get off and he admires the way your tits look. “Shit sugar, too bad I didn’t know that. I could have made that other bed of yours last night real comfortable.”

"The air mattress could have used all the help it could get." Shifting backward on the bed gives him room to climb on, as the oversized mattress more than accommodates both of you.

He kneels on the bed and smirks at you, looking at the way you are all spread out. “So what do you want sugar?” He asks, a mischievous grin on his face. “You want to see me, or do you want the full haunted fucking effect?”

Somehow it actually hadn't occurred to you that this could happen without you being able to see him, and the wicked glint of an idea that flashes across your face makes you wonder if you might actually be asking too much. "What would you think about..." you bite your lip, dragging your eyes back up to his from giving all of your attention to the open button of his pants. "A little haunted pussy eating?"

“You read my mind.” His grin is wicked and he winks at you right before he disappears into thin air. Like he was never there.

Watching him disappear gives you that one singular moment of what the hell am I doing? before his mouth descends on you, and then there is no room left for a single extra thought in your head. If you reached down to find him, you know your fingers would thread through his hair so easily but instead you lay back and twist your hands in your sheets, pretending that nothing but the night air is licking and nipping at your dripping folds like a melting summer ice cream cone.

He tries not to make a sound, but you taste too good. His tongue sliding around your lips and his playful nip one lip makes you jump. Smirking to himself while he lets his invisible hands wrench your thighs apart even more, moaning into your cunt like your sex itself is haunted. Right now it is, with his tongue.

“Oh god…” It’s been so long since you have been touched or tasted that you swear you had nearly forgotten what it feels like, but this sensation is as familiar to you as your own voice when you cry out. There is nothing in the world quite like a talented tongue as it swirls around your clit and traces every delicate folds of your sex, and Jack is leaving no territory unclaimed. You will be his tonight, just like you agreed, and he is going to make damn sure that the only word you remember by the end is his name.

You look amazing like this, spread and and heavy lidded. Like a feast awaiting to be plundered and he was feeling hungry. His tongue licks and prods, loving the taste of you as he delves deeper into your sex and presses his nose against your clit.

Invisible hands hold you fast against the bed, Jack’s shoulders spreading your legs wide to give him the most possible access to your weeping cunt. He is as thorough and he is ravenous and it’s divine. Every inch of your body is singing for him, including the way you cry his name when he moves his mouth upward to suck your clit into his mouth and replaces his pillaging tongue with two fingers buried to the last knuckle in your velvet heat.

He hums, flicking his tongue against your clit and pressing his fingers up. Even though its been a long time since he's had a woman like this, it doesn't mean he's forgotten. Hours spent like this come rushing back to him and he wants to hear you cry just as sweetly as those previous partners had done.

Squirming under him doesn't move you an inch, as invisible hands keep you close. If anything you might only be getting closer with every rock of your hips. Impaling yourself on any part of him you can get is your only goal now, and his fingers are far thicker than you realized - making you moan out again trying to imagine how much girthier his cock will be in comparison. There's no difference between this spirit and any living man as far as pleasure goes. Hell, the spirit is undeniably better than some men you've had, and that thought makes you grin when you groan his name into the moonlight.

"That's it sugar." Jack wrenches his mouth away to coo at you. Knowing it will add to the experience. A disembodied voice murmuring while fat fingers are plunged into your cunt. "You're gonna cum on ole Jack's fingers then I'm gonna replace them with my cock. Let you feel me before you see it."

You keen when he strikes exactly the right spot, curling his fingers against your g spot and making white hot pleasure dance across you vision in the split second before you fall apart for him.

The good news is that Jack never gets tired, his fingers never cramp or his jaw never aches. His tongue continues to lash your clit over and over again while his fingers pump against that spot that has you screaming for him, the coat of your slickness making his finger move easily in your passage, speeding them up as he pushes you for more.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuck!” Every single part of your body has gone limp by the time he eases up his pace and if your vision stays hazy and unfocused for the rest of time you’ll be damn proud to explain why. “Holy shit, baby.”

He chuckles and pulls his fingers out of your gasping cunt. You still can’t see him, but he watches the hazy pleasure on your face when he gets off the bed and starts to shuck the jeans and his long underwear.

You whine in protest, hating the feeling of emptiness when you had just been so full. Your body automatically searches him out, hips rolling down again like he might be just out of reach but he seems to have pulled away entirely. “Jack?” his name is a pout from your lips and you don’t care to hide it.

“I’m comin’ back.” He promises, taking just a moment and staring at you with his cock in his hand. He groans quietly as he squeezes himself. “No way I’m going to miss being inside that pretty cunt.”

“Think we might have stumbled on the world’s most effective birth control,” you joke, feeling the bed dip again with the pressure of his weight on it.

"Hmmm, good point." He slides his hands up your thighs, smirking to himself when he feels them fall apart even more. Making room for him. "I'm going to stay invisible until I'm buried to the hilt inside you. Then I'll let you see me."

There’s only one place for you to look, then, as he notches the head of his thick cock at your entrance and begins to slowly press forward: the way he has your hips angled gives you a perfect view of exactly where he’s splitting you open and the sight is absolutely mesmerizing.

He sees your eyes light up, mouth dropping open both in pleasure and the sight of your lips stretching around nothing it seems. Pressing forward until he is buried and his pubic hair grinds against your clit before he circles his hips slightly. "Feel me, sugar?" He coos. "Do I feel like a ghost or like you are full of a cock?"

“S-so full.” It’s a whine at best, but the angle he has your hips tilted at makes you feel like he’s filling every nook and crevice inside your entire body and he hasn’t given so much as a single extra thrust yet. It’s divinely sinful and makes your head drop back on the blankets when you groan, chest heaving all the while. “Fuck.”

Jack hums, deciding that it's time that you can see him again, now that you can feel him. "Good." He purrs, pulling his hips back right as he materializes again, wanting you to see the cock that is going to be spearing into you while you cum all over it. It's a point of pride right now. "That's good."

Watching him materialize from the place where you’re joined is completely spellbinding. He’s all lean planes of muscle and golden skin with no trace of that opalescent quality that you would have sworn all ghosts possessed before meeting him. He’s dazzling, in point of fact, and you reach for him instantly, needing the connection of a kiss.

His lips immediately crush against yours, as if the kiss could bring him to life. His thrust forward making you gasp into his mouth and he swallows it eagerly.

The pace he sets is one that has both of you groaning, the bed creaking in protest with every thrust. Teeth nip at skin and fingers dig in to whatever they can grip, holding fast to each other as the world melts away. There is nothing else but you and him - the way his eyelids flutter just before he grunts or the plaintive way he gasps your name before sliding his arms underneath your back to pull you in to his chest.

It's not the same, but it is. So much so that he cannot contain himself, rolling his hips faster and harder with every slap of skin. You are so beautiful, responding to his touch and eagerly accepting his attention. Another positive is that he doesn't get overheated or tire himself out, not needing a break to gather his breath.

It's counterintuitive for the most physical fuck you've ever had to be from a long dead Pinkerton cowboy, but you're not one to quibble over the facts in the middle the railing in question. Instead you moan his own name back to him over and over, nipping at his lip for the way it makes him growl and double down in his intensity.

If his heart could beat, it would galloping out of his chest. One hand slides down, gripping your thigh to pull it up higher, opening it wider so he can push inside you a bit more. Spearing deep into your silken walls and hissing at how tight you clench down around him.

Every sensation prickling and tingling under your skin is as real as the moonlight outside your window, as true as the cries and grunts coming from both of your throats, and you know somewhere in the back of your mind that if Jack could still sweat his forehead would be damp with that gorgeous exertion that has turned your eyes black with lust. Every pronounced ridge and enticing vein of his cock is throbbing with blood that shouldn't be possible but right now you don't even have the presence of mind to question it, shaking as you are on the precipice of a second earth-shattering orgasm.

“Come on sugar.” He doesn’t even sound winded, because he’s not. One hand finds yours, fingers threading together and pressing them into the bed. Jack leans down and bites your chin playfully. “Show me how tight you can squeeze me, girl.”

"Next time--" The thought is cut off with a moan when he thrusts into you again with a solid roll of his hips. "Next time I'm gonna – fuck – ride you into the goddamn sunset."

He chuckles and nods. “I’ll try my best to be your bucking Bronco.” He promises, not even mentioning that next time could be in the minutes following this rodeo.

There's a fantastic twist in your core and in your chest that he is so willing to repeat this experience. With no trace of guilt or mental conflict, tonight has been nothing but pleasure and the knot tightening in your belly heralds something much bigger than simple satisfaction on the horizon.

You are gorgeous under him and he wants to see you fall apart. Needs it like a living person needs air. His hand comes up to cup the back of your head, lifting it off the pillow while the other snakes down to your clit. The rough pad of his thumb pressing and massaging your clit. “Cum for me, baby girl.” He begs. “Cum all over me, sugar pie.”

It’s a gorgeous fucking request from him, the way he begs making a moan drip from his lips directly afterward and your whole body starts to respond at once. “Oh my god, Jaaaack—“ Inner muscles tighten as if on command, squeezing his cock inside you as you start to shudder with an orgasm so intense it almost bring tears to your eyes.

You respond so well to his command, squeezing him and soaking him in your pleasure. His teeth clench together and he has to add extra force behind his thrusts to work in and out of your shuddering embrace.

“Can you—?” The strained question from the back of your throat comes with the mortifying realization that it’s possible he can’t get off, but surely he wouldn’t have been so eager for this if that was the case? Your fingers comb through his hair as you press kisses to his lips, wanting to give him every incentive in the world after how much pleasure he’s given you.

“Yeah.” He grunts, answering your unspoken question as he rock towards his own release. It takes longer as a spirit, but he’s fully capable of orgasm, even if the actual release isn’t going to result in a happy occasion.

“Oh fuck — good, Jacky, need to feel you baby, please.” If being sore for a day or two after fucking your spectral roommate is the price you pay, it will be a petty sacrifice to how fucking amazing he makes you feel.

"Gonna cum for you, sugar pie." He groans, rocking back onto his knees and pushing your legs back. "W-where do you want it?" He knows how he wants to see his spend but you might have reservations about that. "Inside or coating your pretty neck and chest?"

“Shit.” You groan out, nearly whimpering at the opportunity. “On me, fuck Jacky, cum all over me.”

Your words ricochet through him and he's immediately pulling free from your body and wrapping his hand around his cock and shuffling up your body to straddle your thighs. Pumping furiously while he bites his lip on the loudest, lewdest moan as his release starts to spurt out of his cock to coat your skin.

The giggle that bubbles out of your throat is filthy as your head drops back onto your pillow in satisfaction. It’s the only real distinction of him as a spirit that you’ve seen - that the cum liberally splashed across your tits and chest is a much more pearlescent, shimmering substance than any you’ve seen before. “Jesus Christ…” you sigh out, reaching up to bring him close for a kiss.

"No, it's Jack, sugar pie." He chuckles and his smile is certainly smug as he presses his lips to yours. The great thing about being dead is that clean-up is a cinch. At just the thought, the pearlescent cum that coats your skin disappears as if it was never there.

“Sugar pie.” The nickname is as sweet as it sounds, and you hum happily before stealing another kiss. “I feel like I’ve heard that before…I don’t know. But I like it.”

He doesn't tell you it's what he called his wife. His sweet Abigail was his sugar pie. He hums against your lips and nibbles on the bottom one. "Good." He nuzzles his nose against your cheek and shifts to lay down beside you. "I've always had a special attachment to it."

Though you surprisingly don’t feel tired, old habits die hard and you shift over in the bed to invite him to snuggle up beside you. “Is it okay if I call you Jacky?” It had rolled off your tongue naturally in the moment, like you were always supposed to call him that.

“Of course it is, sugar pie.” He curls his arm around you and tugs you closer. “Always liked when I was called that.”

“Good.” That soft humming in your throat is nearly a purr - just a soft sound of happiness muffled against his chest. “Gotta say,” you murmur, letting your eyes shut with a sigh. If you had rolled over, you would be confronted with the conspicuous lack of reflection in your vanity mirror, but right now all you feel is a familiar contentment in his arms. “You really are my favorite thing about this house.”

“Somehow I knew you would say that.” Jack muses, his fingers tracing the curve of your spine lovingly. “You always did.” Those words are much softer, almost unintelligible.

______

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