#ghost!reader

[diejager]

heyy! can i request ghost reader x konig?

konig rent a cheap house and found a cute ghost in the house since he is lonely he decided to play with the cute lil ghost :3

i think the ghost has black long hair that covers her face and she is quiet and scared of humans since she is not scary :(

and english is not my first language sorry about that ^_^ also can i be 🎀 anon?

a little pink bow, that’s so cute >~< but unfortunately my requests are closed!

A lingering soul with long black hair covering your face? Like Sadako? But you’re nice, preferring your solitude and silence to the point of being a pacifist that would stand and watch people kill each other in your little, run down house you called home. And then a big and scary man comes in, buys your home and your once quiet house is filled with loud steps and a burly man that seems to take up the room he finds himself in.

Hide all you want, run and avoid him as much as you want, but that won’t stop him from eventually find you. He hasn’t seen a ghost yet, believing them fictitious and superstitious, and finding you goes against everything he once believed in, but he isn’t one to let such a chance slip between his fingers: to learn more about his ghostly roommate.

#Ghost!reader #konig x reader #könig x reader

[gurugirl]

The Séance Experience

ghost!harry | ghost!reader | horror | dark

Summary: A pair of spiritual mediums decide to host an underground seance on Halloween morning at the old abandoned Styles’ house, well know for being haunted. Things go awry. Not everyone escapes.

A/n: I'll have warnings listed below but just know this isn't for everyone! Read at your own discretion! This is dark and horror based. If you'd like some background on the story read the original one shot - On Halloween Morning but this can be read as a standalone.

Word Count: 9224

Warning: 18+ only, smut, dubcon, death, violence, murder, ghosts, evil spirits, use of Ouija board, horror, dark content

Cooper had been planning this for nearly a year. It had meant a lot to her. It wasn’t just a gimmick to make a quick buck and trick gullible souls like one would think. No, she was a real spiritual medium. Sensitive to energy from the presence of the dead among the living, as well as entities of the evil kind. And every time she passed the old Styles house she felt it call to her. It truly was a cursed graveyard, now home to dead souls and dark spirits alike.

Almost everyone had heard of what happened in that house on Halloween morning in 1968. An entire family was slaughtered. At first, the police didn’t know who did it but eventually determined it was the 20-year-old son, Harry Styles, who had killed himself after killing his entire family in their beds.

But it didn’t end there. Over the years people would sneak into the house and many would never be heard from again. And there was never any evidence of anyone being in the house. A missing person without a body is hard to investigate. Police had gone in numerous times to check out calls when neighbors heard screams or family members were concerned when a loved one never returned. Nothing was ever found except usually a few loose boards and pried-open windows or doors but they always chalked that up to squatters coming and going or the occasional thrill seeker.

All those missing people who’d gone in and never come back out led Cooper to believe the house was inhabited by a dark force. Not just ghosts of the dead. It could be common for a home to turn into a cemetery of sorts when people had died on the premises. But it wasn’t common for a home to harbor the darkness of evil and to lure and then collect the souls of the living.

But she still needed to go in there and make contact somehow. There was an intense pull. Something drew her in, called to her, and it only got stronger as time went on. She became obsessed with the house. Read every news article she could find, all the missing people connected to Styles house, police reports, and supposed first-hand accounts of those who had escaped (she knew to take most of those stories with a grain of salt).

She found out as much as she could about the original family members, especially Harry Styles, who she was sure was the cause of all the chaos that had surrounded the house for over half a century. Even in death, he was something to be reckoned with. There was some talk, accounts of old friends of the Styles boy before his violent passing, that he was evil. That he had a violent temper, and that he was into the worship of a malevolent spirit called Angra.

Then, after learning all she could, she put out a small ad in the paper, just to get some interest from other psychics and seers like herself. Anyone who would take seriously the idea that the Styles house was haunted and in need of someone to go in and communicate to the dead or to whatever kind of spirit it was that held domain over the premises. Perhaps they could do some good.

A few calls and texts came in. Most of them were just curious and nosy. Finally, one was like her. A spiritual empath and guide. He was interested in joining her in reaching out to the home and the spirits within. But he also had contacts with others who would consider themselves psychic or clairvoyant. He was in the business of healing and reading for a living. Cooper was hesitant at first but the least she could do was meet up with the man and get a feel for him in person.

When Bran arrived (she imagined Bran was short for Brandon but never bothered to ask) and sat down across from her at the diner off Spring Street in Chinatown, she looked up from her phone and smiled at the man, “Hi. Thank you for coming,” she reached her hand out to shake his and immediately she felt it. He was deeply intuitive and came with a wealth of psychic energy. But she still needed to be sure of his intentions because she was picking up something a little off with him.

They discussed the things they’d seen and felt over the years and shared stories amongst themselves that most would scoff at. Bran told her about his small business. He knew a lot of people who would be interested in doing a séance at the old Styles house.

“I need them to all be sensitive to what could happen. To be aware. I don’t want just anyone coming. I don’t want this to be a free-for-all and have disrespectful people who just want to have a thrill for fun. It needs to be people vetted and serious.”

Bran nodded with a somber expression on his face, “Of course. I can get the word out to the right people and to my group of contacts. I can already think of a handful who would be interested in joining and would take this very seriously.”

She nodded, “That’s great. Because the more of us the better. This house is seriously dangerous. That’s another thing I want everyone to know. That people who visit the house don’t always come out.”   

He took a bite of his tuna fish sandwich, “Well I don’t want to scare anyone off but I’ll tell them if you think it's necessary.”

Bran was a tall ghostly pale man. His eyes were sunken and dark, his nose long and pointy and his skin was smooth and free of any inkling that he could grow facial hair. In all honesty, he looked underfed. He was only a few years older than Cooper herself yet despite his smooth skin, he appeared to be 20 years her senior. He wore a brown corduroy, long-sleeved button-down shirt with loose-fitting, navy-blue athletic pants that dragged the ground. And Birkenstocks. He was balding at the front and his hair was already going white.

She reached out to some others, in hopes that she’d find someone she could truly trust. There was just something about Bran that didn’t sit right with her. She knew to listen to her intuition. She knew not to ignore the little warnings going off in her head, but there weren’t that many people like her. And even if he was a bit sketchy, he was truly like her and she knew it deep down.

So, the séance would move forward with Bran and whoever he could find along the way. She would keep her eye on him and make sure he stayed in line, but he was her best option, unfortunately.

She did not have a good feeling about what was to come.

30 minutes before Halloween

Harry and Y/n were preparing for their yearly Halloween ritual when they were disturbed by boards being ripped from the back door of their house, “They’re early.” Harry said.

“Well, early is good, right?”

“We can just have some fun. Fuck with ‘em a bit,” Harry grinned and thread his fingers into hers.

“But we can keep them, though?”

“Of course my love.”

Often when humans came into their home, Harry and Y/n’s favorite game was to lure the unsuspecting souls toward them with the delicious sound of sex. Make them think they’d caught someone fucking when in reality, they’d just fallen into their trap.            

Peeping Toms would peek into the bedroom door and see two lovely beings going at it, bed rocking, skin slapping, moaning… the whole nine.

Sometimes Y/n would seduce whoever it was, or maybe Harry would do the seducing, depending on the preference of their new victim. And people were dumb. They had no idea that they were being groped and kissed and fucked by a ghost. Worse than a ghost. Something dark and sinister. Something that was about to claim their soul and their life.

“Fuck, Harry…” Y/n was on top this time. Rolling her hips over him, one hand pressed into his chest, her other yanking at his long hair to keep his head down. He kept trying to flip her over but Y/n wanted the top this time.

“There we go… Good boy… just stay down. Let me ride you,” she moaned and worked her wet pussy back and forth.

“What’s that sound?”

“Fuck. I don’t know.”

Rick and Jacob began to unload their suitcases to start setting up for the séance. Just a few things were really needed. Signage was taped to the side of the house so the rest of the group knew where to enter. A table was set up outside the door (after the boards were pried off and the doorknob smashed in with a hammer). Candles would light the pathway to the basement, which is where their friend Bran told them they’d be holding the séance.

“There it is again. Hold on…” Jacob held a hand up as he stood from his position over his suitcase.

“Shit. This isn’t good. I’m getting a vibe man…” Rick whispered.

Both men stood silently and listened to what sounded like…

“Someone’s having sex?”

“Holy shit… I don’t think it’s human because I’m picking something up, but shit…”

“It’s a trap.”

The rhythmic clank of the bed and Y/n’s moans of pleasure grew louder. And both men knew it was a trap. Knew it was dangerous to go further but it was like they were in a trance. Without another word, the pair began to follow the sound up the hallway until they could hear the mattress bouncing.

And as expected, the door was pushed open just enough so both men could take a peek inside and feast their eyes on what was happening before them.

“You’re gonna regret this,” Harry smacked her bottom but it only made Y/n laugh as she ground over him harder.

“I never regret fucking your brains out, Harry,” her tits swayed as if made of real, warm human flesh.

Harry lifted his thigh and put his feet flat onto the mattress in another attempt to roll them over so he could get on top but before he got any momentum the two onlookers watched as the female slapped the face of the man under her.

She took her hand out of his hair and wrapped her palm around the front of his neck, pushing him down further, “Fucking said stay still.”

Harry loved it. Loved having someone to play with. He’d really gotten the answer to his prayer to Angra with her when she was led to him the year prior. From the beginning she was perfect. A little more spicy than he imagined but he liked her this way. She was always mad at him, which led to lots of fighting but then of course lots of sex as well. He never adored anyone when he was among the living. But Y/n? He adored. She was his gift. His eternal mate. They were bonded and even when she was smacking him around he couldn’t get enough.

Y/n squeezed tighter around his neck and Harry grinned at her, his eyes going wide at the sensation. He would have spoken back but he was busy feeling the euphoria he only got from his mate.

Rick nudged Jacob and jerked his head in a motion for them to leave but Jacob put his finger up and continued looking in.

“Like what you see?” Y/n sang out as she raised her hips just enough so the men could have a nice view of her pussy riding up and down Harry’s big, evil cock. She turned back to look at the door and made eye contact with both of them as she kept rocking over Harry and held him down with her hand on his throat.

“Fuck! Shit!” Both Jacob and Rick stood to run but before they could even make it to the kitchen Y/n was standing before them naked, holding her hands out, “Where are you going? I can’t believe you just left in the middle of the show we were putting on for you two. You didn’t like it?”

“I think these two have a special gift. That’s why they didn’t just come in and join us,” Harry spoke behind the pair causing them to startle and turn to see Harry right behind them. Also naked.

“You know? You’re right. That explains it doesn’t it?” She stepped in toward Jacob who looked like he was about to piss his pants. She drew her long finger over his collarbone and walked around his frame slowly. Inspecting. “You’re special aren’t you?”

She looked up at Jacob as she stood back in front of him.

He shook his head and looked at Rick, who was in the same state as Jacob.

Y/n’s finger pressed into Jacob’s chin and she pushed his head back so he was facing her, “Keep your eyes on me. Don’t you like this? Look…” she gestured with her free hand along her body. “You don’t want any?”

Jacob quickly shook his head again and Harry leaned in to speak to the man who’d just rejected his mate, “I’d say yes if I were you. Because this will be the last time you ever get to touch her in this way again. And you’re going to want to touch her once you belong to the house, belong to us. So yes is the answer. Not no.”

Harry stood up and placed his hands at Rick’s shoulders and squeezed, giving him a bit of a neck massage, “And you. You can have me. I can just feel the gay energy rising off your prick right now,” Harry whispered into Rick’s ear. He was trembling. Absolutely terrified. Both men were.

“See? This is all just about a proper introduction and welcome to our home. Come…” Y/n grabbed Jacob's hand and led him toward the bedroom where she and Harry had just been.

“I really like a man who lets me do all the work. Just lie there and enjoy. Okay?” She pointed at the bed but Jacob didn’t move. All of his senses were firing off. Run, hide, fight, give in… This was unlike anything he’d ever experienced and he’d considered himself someone very sensitive to spirits. But these two. They were different. He could feel the power coming from the male and the female ghost. He knew he was no match. In fact, he was sure none of the others, who would be joining him and Rick in the next twenty minutes or so, were also no match.

“What are you?” He finally found his voice.

“I’m Y/n. This house is our domain. We feed it and we take care of it. We’ll all get to know one another a little better once everything is said and done. Then you’ll understand more.”

She didn’t want to waste any more time as she saw Harry behind her with his prey. Harry was already sucking at the man’s neck, making his move.

“Come sit with me… what’s your name?”

She took his hand and led him to the bed, “Uh… Jacob.”

“Jacob,” she spoke his name like she was already having sex with him, “A nice Christian name. I hope you know God can’t save you here. You’re mine. So you might as well enjoy this.”

Harry kept his eyes on Y/n and Jacob as he cupped Rick’s crotch, “Oh? Does being scared turn you on?”

It did in fact. Rick’s connection to the dead was more than just a spiritual guiding. It was physical. He got turned on anytime he used his gifts to contact the unliving.

Y/n had slid her hand up Jacob’s thigh and made sure he kept his eyes on hers, “Just keep looking at me. You’re doing so good for me.”

Jacob’s chest began to rise and fall heavily as the hot naked woman got nearer and nearer to his crotch. He tried not to let the way she looked human and so supple get to him. It was a façade. Yet her breasts were soft and round, her nipples hard, and her tummy looked like he could nuzzle into it. Her thighs and legs were long and silky. She was breathtaking. She looked more like an angel than the evil thing she really was which had him confused.

“It’s okay to be confused, Jacob. Just let me take care of you. Let me show you why you came here tonight. The real purpose of your life. It’s all led up to this very moment. You and me, Jacob.”

His gaze dropped to her plush lips and that was her cue, “Do you want to try a kiss? See how real and warm and wet it is?”

She licked her lips as his eyes plunged to her mouth and then her pretty tits. But before he could nod she already had her mouth covering his. And that’s all it took for Jacob to surrender. She tasted real. She felt real. He put her hands up to her breasts and gently squeezed as she laughed into his mouth, “That’s right. Feel me. Enjoy me.”

Harry moaned as he pressed Rick’s lips down over his cock. Rick was much easier to convince. All it took was Harry’s dirty words in his ear and his lips on his neck and he was a goner. Rick had been turned on before he’d even stepped foot into the house.

He had one hand at the footboard keeping himself steady as he used his free hand to guide Rick over his cock. But he kept his eyes on Y/n as she kissed the other man and he groped her luscious tits. Harry tended to get jealous a bit. Sometimes more than others but he never enjoyed being a cuck. Because Y/n was his. But he could admit, it was awfully fun playing with their captives.

She backed away from the kiss and grinned, “See? So nice,” she thumbed at his bottom lip and then pulled at it, “I know it feels real. And it is real in a way. I’ll feel just like a human and for me, I’ll get pleasure if you’re good. I know you’re thinking a ghost won’t feel this since we’re technically, dead,” she laughed, “But I always feel it. Harry and I fuck every day and it’s just as good as when I was alive.”

Jacob didn’t move an inch, “Don’t you want to make a woman feel good, Jacob?” Harry grunted, “She’s offering you something special and you’re just sitting there like a dope.”

 Y/n shushed Harry, “He’s just nervous my love. Either way, we’ll get him naked,” she turned to look at Jacob, “I want you to take all your clothes for me. Can you do that for me, Jacob?”

The man nodded and with shaky hands began to take his clothes off.

Y/n smirked at Harry who had his mouth dropped open. Rick was pretty good with his mouth, he had to be honest, “Don’t forget the balls there Ricky poo,” Harry pulled Rick by the back of his hair to drag him off his dick before pushing his head lower to which the man quickly began to kiss and lick.

Jacob pulled his shoes off and then his pants down his legs before looking at Y/n.

“Take your underwear off. Can’t very well fuck you if you keep yourself tucked away,” she pointed at his black briefs.

Jacob looked toward Rick and Harry and then to Y/n, “I’d… uh… like some privacy maybe. Feels weird having them in here with us.”

Harry pushed Rick’s forehead, causing him to fall back onto the floor with a thud, “You want privacy with my girl? I should rip your throat out for even thinking you’d be allowed that kind of indulgence.” Harry rounded the bed and walked up behind Y/n, putting his lips on her neck with his eyes on the intruder. “No. You get no privacy in this house. Everything that happens here happens under my watch,” he spoke as he dotted kisses along her skin and up to her jaw.

Y/n laughed and turned in Harry’s arms, “He doesn’t know any better, Harry. Just… go back to your toy and I’ll go back to mine. Ignore the ignorant comment he made,” she stroked her nails down his chest. But she knew the look in Harry’s eyes. He wasn’t going to let this go that easily. He was in a mood, which shouldn’t be a surprise. Because soon, it would be Halloween morning and they’d be quite busy.

Harry walked away from Y/n, back to where Rick was still on his knees on the floor. He dragged Rick up to stand, “Remove your clothes as well. Let’s see what we’re working with.”

With both men naked and looking as if they were about to be devoured by a bear, Y/n hummed and circled around Jacob, “Lie on the bed for me. You’re free to jack off if you want. I’d actually prefer it if you did,” she gestured toward to the bed and the man hesitantly climbed up and laid himself flat as he was told. “See, I need you to stay hard for me, and sometimes when a man gets really scared he can tend to go limp. So I just need you to let go of all your thoughts and stroke your cock and just be in the moment with me. Can you do that, Jacob?”

He swallowed loudly and blinked his eyes as he kept them on Y/n who knelt next to him on the bed, waiting for him to answer, “I… I don’t know…”

She ran her cool hand up his sinewy thigh and brushed her fingers over his cock, “I know you can do it. You’re halfway there. Just submit to me, Jacob. Do as I say and this will be a lot less painful for you. In fact, you might even enjoy it if you let all those rational thoughts in your head disappear into nothingness. I need you as dumb for me as possible. Let me do all the thinking.” She squeezed his cock before straddling his thighs and grabbed his hand, pulling it down to his prick, “Here you are. Here’s your penis. Keep it in your hand and jerk yourself slowly. I know it’s a hard task but I believe in you, Jacob,” she spoke darkly. The insult was missed by no one in the room.

Harry had Rick bent over the footboard, his ass bare and open for him as he kept his eyes on his mate while she sat over Jacob’s face and placed her hands on his chest. She kept her own eyes on Harry’s as she began to rub her pussy over the stranger.

“Not bad…” she laughed, “But I want more tongue.”

Harry groaned as he pushed himself into Rick. The man cried out in pain at the sudden intrusion. And Harry had gone in dry so it was quite unpleasant. But Harry didn’t care about Rick’s pleasure. He was too busy watching Y/n. He didn’t like it when she enjoyed herself too much with anyone but him.

“No. No, no, no, Jacob. No good. You’re really not good at this are you?” She lifted herself and peered down at the man. “I feel bad for all the girls you attempted this with. Let’s try something else.” She climbed off of him and stood next to the bed pointing at Harry, “Can you be done with him already? I need your assistance over here.”

Harry grinned as he rammed himself into Rick one more time, causing a howl to fall from the man’s chest and he gripped the footboard with white knuckles.

“Ricky poo, it was a pleasure. Truly. It’s time for you to meet the rest of the house, now,” he spoke darkly to the man as he brought his slender fingers up to Rick’s neck and began to squeeze. Rick’s face grew red as he began to shake and struggle to get free from Harry’s grasp. But Harry had him pinned and he was far stronger than Rick.

Jacob lifted his head to watch in horror as the evil spirit began to choke his friend but Y/n sat on his chest and blocked his view, “Best not to look, Jacob. Focus on me and keep stroking your cock. I see you’ve been slacking off a little.”

Rick’s face turned from bright red to purple as the air was blocked from his lungs. Harry tightened his grip even more until the man was slumped and his neck was crushed.

Harry grunted as he dropped the man to the floor and then looked to Y/n, “Done.”

She gestured with her finger, a come hither motion as she opened her legs up, still sitting on Jacob’s chest, her back to his face, “Let’s show poor Jacob how it’s done,” she spoke teasingly.

Y/n climbed off Jacob’s chest and turned to look at the sad man, “Sit up, back against the wood. I want you to watch this. And even though you’ll never be able to use these newly learned techniques I think it’ll be enlightening for you nonetheless.”

Harry grasped Y/n’s hips as he dropped to his knees and pulled her to the edge of the bed so her ass was hanging off, “Got a good view, Jacob?” He eyed the man teasingly before dipping into lick over her cunt and moaning at the taste.

Y/n stuck her fingers into Harry’s hair and looked at Jacob, “See where his tongue is going? That feels so good. That’s the hood of my clit. That’s a spot a lot of terrible lovers don’t ever think about. I bet you’re one of them aren’t you, Jacob? No idea where the clit was before now?”

Jacob shook his head, “I know what the clitoris is! Please this is… I won’t tell anyone. Please let me go…” he sat up further and pressed his hands into the mattress as if he were about to push himself off the bed.

“Stop!” Y/n’s loud growl along with her grip on his cock had him immediately stopping. He hadn’t expected her to reach out for it like that, “Sit the fuck back and watch my pussy get licked by a pro. Unless you want me to tear your dick off? I will if you’d like. Just try that again and find out what happens.”

Jacob put his hands up and leaned his back into the board behind his head and looked to the floor at Rick lying lifeless. He was trembling and his heart was pounding in terror.

“And why do you keep defying my rules? Stroke. Your. Fucking. Cock. I need you hard for what I’m about to do. So chop chop!” She laughed and then looked back down to Harry sliding his tongue against her. His eyes were on her. She loved when he’d get on his knees for her. He did it often.

“Fuck… I don’t want to come yet,” she moaned as she pushed at his head, “You’re too good at that she smiled. “I want to come on Jacob’s cock. Really give him a special going away before the house takes him.”

Harry sat back onto his haunches and scowled at Jacob who was slowly pulling at his cock.

“What is it, darling?” Y/n placed a finger under Harry’s chin to turn his attention back to her. She knew what it was. Knew how jealous Harry would get when she’d play with other people. Cooing at him she leaned down to kiss him and reached a hand out for Jacob’s leg, “Aww… don’t be jealous. You know your cock is my favorite. Your lips and your hands… Baby, this is just for fun. You are forever.”

Harry clenched his jaw and shook his head at her condescending words, “Can I be inside of you too?”

Y/n laughed as she straddled Jacob once again, “Sure. You wanna share a hole with him or have your own?”

Harry got behind her with Jacob lying flat as he put himself between the man’s legs and reached his arms around to pinch Y/n’s nipples, “I’ll fuck your ass while you fuck his skinny prick with your cunt. Give you something to feel in one of your holes at least,” he laughed sinisterly.

Y/n laughed with him as she looked down at Jacob, “Is that okay, Jacob? Mind if I have two cocks inside of me? I will need a little something more because you really are a bit underwhelming,” she flicked at his shaft. Her words were filthy and rude.

“I umm… Please, I…” Jacob wined as Y/n took his hands and held him down by his wrists.

“Oh? Begging already? Well, that’s certainly a good sign,” she laughed dryly before lifting her hips to allow Harry inside of her first.

He gripped her hips harshly and began to slowly push in, her anus stretching out before him and she moaned. Jacob was lying still under the pair as they began to move together, his hands pinned down.

“Fuck me… Harry your cock is the best. Oh shit!” She turned to look over her shoulder and nearly forgot all about the man under her. The man she was supposed to be playing with.

Harry began to fuck into Y/n as his thrusts had her rocking back and forth. She moaned and clenched and hissed at the feel of Harry poking into her.

“Oh fuck!” She panted as she leaned in down to give Harry more access, her face only inches above Jacobs. She looked down at the man and grinned, “You never got this kind of response from anyone, did you? Can’t use your tongue or your prick properly. Poor man. We’re doing you a favor here. And all the women you might have tried to get into bed in the future as well. No more disappointing sex from you I’m afraid.”

Harry was pleased that she hadn’t put Jacob inside of her. He pounded himself into her harshly and made it so that she wouldn’t be able to angle herself enough to get the human’s prick anywhere near her pussy.

“Goddamn! I might not even want your prick anymore, Jacob. Ahhh!” She let out a guttural moan, “It’s too little for me anyhow. No fun in that…” Her words came out in punched breaths as Harry rocked into her.

Harry laughed as he heard her give him insult after insult. The bed was squeaking and the candles along the edge of the room flickered.

Y/n looked at the shadows on the wall and gasped when she saw the spirits arrive.

“It’s midnight. Let’s get this over with…” she said as she released one of Jacob’s hands and pressed her palm down over his throat.

Harry leaned in and placed his fingers over her clit and thrusted in harder and faster.

“Oh fuck! Yess… Make me come, Harry. I want all the spirits to see this.”

Suddenly Jacob gasped and his muscles tightened in his release. He hadn’t even meant to but the restriction of his airflow and some strange involuntary physical arousal had taken over. He poured out over his tummy as Y/n reared back into Harry’s cock with a gasp.

“Oh, he’s coming, my love!” Y/n laughed before groaning at Harry’s stiff cock slipping out of her.

Harry pulled her off of Jacob and angled her hips up as he sat back onto his haunches, “This is my fucking girl! Her body is mine!” His chillingly sinister voice sobered Jacob right up as Y/n’s hand loosened its grip with the new angle she was in.

Harry began to fuck into her pussy rapidly. His groans grew louder as he railed her deep.

Y/n coughed out a moan, “The best cock I’ve ever had, Harry. Right there. You’re gonna make me fucking come. Don’t stop!”

Harry pushed his thumb into her ass as he plunged into her pussy repeatedly. Jacob was caught in fright, unable to move to speak as his own throbbing cock splashed his come all over his tummy so he was a wet sticky mess as he watched the pretty ghosts fucking between his legs.

“Shit!” Y/n reared back into Harry and gripped her hands over Jacob’s thigh, her nails digging into his skin.

The scene of Jacob lying untouched with come on his tummy and Y/n and Harry orgasming together was watched by the ghosts of the house as midnight meant it was Halloween morning.

When the pair had finished and were slowly moving together in their come down Y/n looked at Jacob with a pout, “Sorry, Jacob. You didn’t get the chance to feel my pussy around your tiny cock. My lover here kind of took over and you’re a bit of a bore.” She laughed as the dark shadows grew near to the bed.

Jacob turned his head as he saw the obscure silhouettes moving in and began to croak out in distress but his neck was sore and his voice was caught in his throat.

Harry pulled Y/n with him off the bed as the spirits descended over Jacob until there was no body left and Jacob’s fate was sealed into the house.

Y/n turned to Harry with a smile, “The morning has arrived. I can already hear the rest of them. They’ve come. Let’s go play.”

“Where are Rick and Jacob?” Cooper could see two suitcases opened but nothing was done. Candles were still wrapped in paper, the planchette was still inside, and nothing had been set up. “This house hasn’t been cleansed either. I’m going to need to prep it and set intentions here.”

Bran looked around the space and cupped his hands over his mouth, “Jacob! Rick! You guys here?”

Cooper quickly stood up and grasped Bran’s forearm, “Shhh! This isn’t your home. You cannot come in and act that way. You need to be respectful of those at rest.”

“No one’s at rest in this house. Can’t you feel it? Today is their holiday. They’re preparing for a party. A feast. They knew we were coming.”

Cooper sighed and turned to look behind her as Marin, one of Bran’s acquaintances, bent down to start pulling items out of one of the suitcases, “Well, either way, we need to get set. Russ is coming in with the table and I’ll bring the chairs down to the basement. We’ll have people coming soon.”

When Cooper saw the table leaning up against the outside of the house with the chairs next to it she knew right away something bad had happened. Rick and Jacob were meant to come and set up everything. Cleanse the house, set intentions, light candles, and have the table and chairs set and ready to go. It shouldn’t have taken long. Yet nothing had been done.

The last two invitees arrived as Cooper went from room to room with a candle and spoke a protective prayer, asking the spirits for their permission and to safeguard them from the evil that lurked.

She could feel the house as if it were alive. Every room had a story, a haunted retelling of the horrors that had happened over the years.

“I invoke light and pure intention. I am a clear and kind channel. Light is my guide. I will not harm and my request is for knowledge and safe passage.”

Cooper repeated her words as she descended the stairs to the main floor, already feeling the way the spirits in the home were at odds within. Some were receptive, some were not. She knew this could lead to trouble if everyone inside wasn’t on the same page. If they weren’t sensitive and receptive.

She lit candles to guide everyone into the basement of the home. The rest of the people who had been invited to join would be arriving shortly for the séance.  

Bran, Marin, and Russ had set up the table and chairs, put the black cloth onto the table with candles in the corner, and Cooper’s old Ouija board and planchette atop.

She took a deep breath to center herself and felt the chill of the spirits all around.

“Bran?” She held her candle close to her heart as she stepped down into the basement and looked at the tall man.

Without responding to her verbally he turned to look at her. The shadows that cast over his face made it hard to see his expression.

“Jacob and Rick are still here. I can feel them. Maybe we can draw them out. I can’t tell if they’re alive or not.”

Bran nodded, “I can also feel them. I don’t know what happened but this house is full of darkness and despair. Are you open?”

Cooper nodded, “Yes. I feel the guiding of the good spirits here. I’m protected. You?”

Bran looked at a dark corner of the basement and back to Cooper, “I don’t know. I keep lighting that candle and it keeps getting blown out. Something here is trying to warn us.”

Marin suddenly ran into a chair and gasped, “What the fuck!”

“Are you okay?” Cooper rushed toward the young woman who shook her head in disbelief.

“Something just pulled me into that chair and whispered but I couldn’t understand. I… I’m okay. I think.”

Cooper looked down at the chair and back to Marin, “Have you spoken your intentions to the house? Are you protected?”

The young woman looked at Bran and then back to Cooper, “Protected from what?”

Cooper set her candle at the edge of the table and gazed toward Bran, “You told everyone about this house, correct? About its past? What to expect?”

Bran cleared his throat as three young men suddenly descended into the basement, laughing and speaking loudly.

Cooper pointed as she kept her eyes on Bran, “Who are they?”

Bran took Cooper’s arm and pulled her away from Marin, “Observers. I found a group who were interested in coming to watch.”        

Cooper yanked her arm from Bran and walked toward the three men, “Excuse me, you three will need to leave. It’s not safe for you here. I’m sorry that you were misled–“

“Who are you?” One of the men laughed as he took in Cooper’s appearance wearing a shawl and hood as if she were some old witch.

Bran interrupted, “They’ve paid to be here. They’re not going anywhere, Cooper.”

“Paid? Why would you charge anyone? What are you trying to do here? This isn’t some game!”

“Calm down. Nothing will happen to them. I’ll see to it.”

Cooper scoffed and rubbed her hands over her face, “How many outsiders have you invited?”

“Just four.”

“Four outsiders? Bran, they can’t be here. Two of our own are already gone. Maybe dead.” Cooper began to raise her voice. She knew it was a bad idea to get Bran involved. She felt it from the beginning that he was up to no good. There were only meant to be eight people in total for the séance.

The fourth outsider made her way down as well as Russ and two of the others Cooper already knew.

“We can’t do this. Not like this.” Cooper rushed out her words and grabbed for her board at the center of the table but Bran stopped her, putting his hand over hers.

“We will. The show must go on. I can already feel them. They want to be heard.”

Cooper shoved Bran away, “You’re making a big mistake. I’m out. This is reckless.”

She wanted her board and her planchette but she could already tell the evil that resided in the house had already gotten Bran. He was channeling the dark and she needed to leave before it was too late.

As she took the stairs up to the main floor the basement door slammed closed and everyone in the basement had their attention on Cooper.

“No one leaves this home, Cooper. Don’t you understand? The spirits are already among us,” Bran’s voice crawled through the chilled air of the damp, dark basement and one of the outsiders laughed.

“Fuck. This is creepy as shit. Worth every penny.”

“My cellphone doesn’t work at all down here. Not even the camera. Dude! What kind of show is this?”

“It’s not a game! It’s not a show!” Cooper’s voice wavered as she held onto the banister and made her way back down the stairs to join the other 9. She already knew the house was locking them into the basement. She wouldn’t be getting out by turning the knob. It would be useless for her to attempt it.

Harry and Y/n watched from their shadowed corner with pleased smiles. Bran was right. No one would be leaving unscathed, if at all. The ten living souls trapped in the basement were now theirs.

“This is going to be fun,” Y/n whispered as they watched the humans gather around the table and another candle blew out.

“Shall we begin?” Bran spoke loudly. An old fixture above the table flickered on, casting light down over the board, making the edges of the room appear darker.

Evil had arrived. Cooper knew it and she knew some of the others could feel it as well.

“Everyone, welcome. Tonight, we are in the presence of greatness!” Bran’s voice boomed as he stood at the table and lifted his arms upward, the features on his face morphing as if he were a decrepit old man, “You will be witness to the experience of a real séance tonight. You may see or hear things that frighten you but if you stay connected with us and keep your mind open you are bound to enjoy yourself.“

“Stop!” Cooper shouted, “There is something evil here and the four outsiders are acting as skeptics,” she looked toward them and continued, “It’s breaking the bond we might have together and this is dangerous. I need to…” She lifted her candle blowing out the flame, “I bind you evil!” She sat her candle down and tore her shawl, ripping a long section off. With the candle in her hand, she began to wrap it with the torn material, “Evil spirits, trouble us no more. I bind you from doing harm to others or to yourself. Your actions will only be for the highest good.”

She repeated the chant as she wrapped the candle and one of the outsiders laughed quietly.

Bran slowly moved behind Cooper and placed a hand on her shoulder as she continued her binding spell, “Useless. The spirit is already here. You cannot stop it, Cooper.”

She could feel it was useless but she needed to try. Sitting the half-wrapped candle down she looked at everyone in the room, “Everyone! Take your candle and repeat after me,” she tilted her candle toward the one next to hers and relit the flame, “Repeat!”

“Elements of the sun, elements of the day, please come this way,” she looked around the room, and only a few repeated, “Please everyone. I need you to all repeat. This is a protection spell. You may find this funny but in just moments things will be getting very serious and this is the only thing I can do for you now. Please…”

Repeating the first part of the spell she noted that still only a few repeated, but she continued, “Powers of the night and day, I summon thee. I call upon thee to protect me!”

The three men who were last-minute invitees chuckled and whispered amongst themselves. The fourth outsider, a middle-aged woman, seemed to take Cooper’s instructions more seriously.

“Hold your candles up,” Cooper demonstrated and she heard Bran sigh as he walked around the group slowly, “I infuse the power of the flame so that it may burn away all negative energy. We pass through the smoke so that it may protect and shield this home.”

The sound of Bran clapping slowly drew attention back to him, “Are you quite done? It’s time to give the people what they’ve come for.”

Cooper knew her bindings weren’t going to work on everyone, if at all, but she had to try. She didn’t have the proper equipment in reach and now that four of the people in the room were skeptics it damaged the circle of empathy and the channel of openness.

“Come. Everyone, have a seat at the table. Let’s begin.”

All but the three young men seemed hesitant. Pulling up chairs and looking around the table Cooper knew this wasn’t going to go down how it had been planned. Cooper was meant to kick off the séance. She was supposed to be the medium, the vehicle for communication but it was clear that Bran was going to be doing it now.

“The spirits are already here trying to make contact. I want everyone in our circle to place a finger on the planchette,” Bran spoke as he touched the wooden stylus.

Everyone reached across the table, chairs dragging over the cement flooring closer to the table and fingers were placed on the planchette at Bran’s direction.

“Spirits, we are here. We are listening. I feel your energy all around. Give us guidance. Show yourself!”

Cooper closed her eyes and felt the chill of something along her back and breeze along her neck. Slowly, everyone in the circle began to gasp or mumble something under their breath about having felt the wind.

“Shit!” One of the guys laughed in surprise and turned in his chair to look behind himself.

“You,” Bran pointed at the man who had just laughed, “What is your name?”

Cooper could see the shadow behind him. Something, someone, was already there and it had already selected its first victim. It wasn’t a surprise that it would be a skeptic. A person who would not know they were being hunted. Ignorance is not always bliss.

“Fred,” he answered. The light above the table flickered softly and Cooper was surprised none of the outsiders found it odd that an old, abandoned house with no electricity had a light working. Marin’s face told Cooper she was absolutely terrified.

“He’s chosen you first,” Bran spoke darkly.

“What?” Fred laughed again and let go of the planchette.

“Do not let go from the circle!” Cooper shouted but it was too late. Suddenly Fred was pulled away from the table, his chair dragged into the dark shadow of the edge of the room and his cries for help were quieted nearly as soon as he had begun to scream.

The woman who had been sitting near the men started to panic, letting go of the circle and standing, “What is happening?”

“Don’t break from this circle! Keep your hands on this planchette. It’s the only thing we can do to protect you,” Cooper rushed out her warning.

One of the men got up from his chair and turned toward where Fred had been dragged, “Fred?”

“Please sit! Come back to the table!”

A candle that had been placed on the floor was suddenly illuminated and there were sharp inhales of breath and gasps as everyone in the room witnessed Fred’s limp body hanging from the ceiling.

“No! What the fuck?” The man turned to look at everyone at the table and pointed toward his lifeless friend, “What is this?”

The woman who was standing began to grasp her neck and struggle when a dark figure appeared behind her. She was being choked and pulled into the corner where Fred was hanging.

The third man stood and looked at Cooper, “This isn’t funny anymore.”

The overhead light flickered and illuminated everything behind the man and by the time everyone at the table could warn him, it was too late. The light fizzled out and then the room was left only lit by candles. The glimmer of the fire danced finickily on each of the wicks and cast an unstable glow over four outsiders who were hung in a row in the corner of the dark basement.

Gone.

There were only 6 left.

“Now that they’ve been taken out of the equation,” a strangely upbeat-sounding voice spoke. Raspy, dark, unmistakably male, “We can get down to business tonight.”

From the shadows appeared a tall young man with dark curls and nearly clear, jeweled eyes, and a young woman next to his side. Harry was pleased to be taking over this get-together.

Bran stood up and just as he was opening his mouth to speak Harry took the floor once again, “No need to speak. This won’t take too long. And the Ouija board’s not necessary. Contact is made. I am the spirit that dwells in this house. This is my domain and you all have trespassed.”

Everyone was stuck in silence as they watched the haunted pair near the table. They looked just as alive as everyone else there if you didn’t pay close attention. If you didn’t know better. But if you were someone like Cooper you could surmise that they were sinister beings. Not quite dead but certainly not alive.

“I apologize for trespassing,” Cooper spoke softly, “I tried clearing the energy and making my presence known in the most gentle–“

“You’re cute,” Y/n spoke with an eerie smile, “Nothing that happens in this house is nice or gentle. You’ll see soon.”

“You haven’t met spirits like us before, Cooper,” Harry stated, “But we’re so glad you couldn’t shake the call of the house. We knew you’d bring us some company. You did very well to listen.”

Cooper shook her head trying to wrap her thoughts around what they were telling her.

“We didn’t need the four extras,” Y/n commented, “But the house will make use of them.”

“What are you going to do with us?” Bran spoke finally, still standing in his spot as he looked at Harry.

Instead of responding Harry just smiled toward Bran as a shadow covered his face from above. The room was already dark but soon Bran’s figure was completely shrouded in darkness. His mouth opened wide to shout but no sound could be heard.

“That… that is what we are going to do with most of you.” Harry watched on as Bran’s face contorted and the darkness slowly pulled him from the table in silence. As if he was disintegrating into smoke.

“But why?!” Russ stood up and his metal chair fell back into the cement floor.

“Because it’s part of the deal,” Harry’s voice was dark as he began to pace slowly behind everyone at the table, “Angra requires sacrifice. The house needs life. We take care of the house and feed it with the souls of the living.”

“Angra,” Cooper spoke the name quietly to herself. She knew of Angra. Angra was a high deity of destruction. A demonic force of greed, wrath, sexual deviancy, and envy. And he was there in that home, and it was clear he was orchestrating everything from the handsome ghost, Harry.

“That’s right, Cooper,” Y/n smiled, “This is his playground, and Harry and I get to keep it all running like a well-oiled machine. It’s fun for all of us, really.”

Y/n pulled at Cooper’s hand suddenly, “Stand back,” she whispered as Cooper was moved away from the table.

The moment Cooper was out of the circle she felt a cottony soft cocoon surround her. Her arms were pressed down to her sides, her legs melded together, unable to bend or part, her mouth sealed closed, but her eyes and ears opened as she watched and heard every one of the people at the table struggle and scream when they were being dragged away by dark shadows until they disappeared.

Harry and Y/n only stood and watched with scary grins and hands intertwined. The flickering of the candles intensified and a howling wind blew through the basement and brushed over Cooper’s face before there was nothing but blackness and the smell of damp cement and smoke from blown-out wicks.

“You need to understand what’s going to happen now, Cooper,” Harry’s voice could be heard but he could not be seen. “You are bound to this house and you will not be able to deny your desire to return here every year.”

Finally, one candle was lit, and then a second one. Harry and Y/n each held a candle in their hands as they stood before Cooper.

“It’s going to follow you. It might take a week. Or maybe just a day or so, but you’ll recognize the scent, the draw, the torment,” Harry's disturbing words crawled over Cooper’s body. She was still unable to speak or move. “But you’ll get used to it and soon you’ll enjoy coming to visit us.”

“Oh, and maybe you can bring some really attractive people for us. Yeah? Because… Jacob and Rick? I mean…” Y/n laughed and her flame jumped as if her breaths were real, “We make due, but sometimes it’s nice to really enjoy the body before we give them over to the house.”

It didn’t make sense to Cooper, what the ghosts were telling her. She was frightened and desperate to escape but she was stuck.

“Are you ready to be released, Cooper? Are you ready to finally begin living, to finally be free of the mundane?” Harry grinned and suddenly the basement door at the top of the steps was shoved open and Cooper found herself dropped to the cold floor. There were no lights. No candles, no table or chairs. It was as if nothing had ever happened in the basement.

With shaky hands and limbs, she gathered herself and began to ascend the stairs, gripping the railing as tight as she could and looking behind her in search of the spirits or the bodies or anything that was after her.

But the moment her feet hit the wood floor beyond the basement door she ran toward the exit. The door was open and she rounded the corner and dashed to the front in a panic as she reached for her cell phone to call the police. Inside the house, her cell phone had been dead. But the moment she stepped out it functioned normally again.

The house looked so unassuming in the daylight. So old and in disrepair, but it didn’t appear anything like what it really was. And the daylight was surprising. Y/n was expecting it to only be around 1 in the morning but according to her cell phone, it was already 9:30. She must have passed out in the basement for hours before finally getting out of the house.

As she was questioned by the first cop on the scene she couldn’t shake the feeling of needing to stare at the house. She recalled the warning from Harry. That something would follow her. Something would continue to draw her to it.

She didn’t know why she was chosen but her fate was sealed. She was just glad she was still alive. Harry and Y/n were also glad she was still alive. They would be waiting.

xx

The Halloween Call (can be read as a short follow up to this one shot)

Cop!Harry takes a call to check out the scene of crime at an old abandoned house, well known as the Slaughter House with a grim history.

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[maraschinomerry]

Little Pink Heart

Pairings: Anthony Lockwood x fem!reader, implied Locklyle

Summary: following a fatal Ghost-Touch, Lockwood and reader must figure out how to manage love and life after death

Content: reader's death, ghost!reader, grief, angst, bittersweet, not a happy ending, established relationship

A/N: Please please be aware that this fic has some very heavy content, don't feel obliged to read if you could find it upsetting! That being said, this is as much about exploring the concept of Visitors' sentience that Jonathan Stroud introduced and building on what we saw with Annabel Ward as it is about the angst and the grief. This is dedicated to @bella-rose29 for mentioning the idea of ghost!reader and giving me inspiration (bonus angst: listen to Someone New by Freya Ridings while you read)

Word count: 4.9k (my longest fic yet!)

Taglist: @neewtmas @marinalor @ettadear @honey-with-tea (let me know if you want adding or removing!)

The click of the key echoed through the house as you opened the door. Dusk was falling, the fine mist that had settled tinted a soft blue. As much as you didn't want to go inside, you fancied staying out here less.

“Don't linger, darling,” your boyfriend, Anthony, murmured as he passed over the threshold. His hand slipped into yours and he led you in. The house was cold and dim in the fading light, and from the fine layer of dust and lack of personal effects it was clear that it hadn't been inhabited for some time. It was a shame that the owner, who had seemed like a nice enough young woman, had had to move out of her family home, but you couldn't help but be grateful. You and Anthony had only just got your licences, and with no links to any agencies nor desires to join them you'd decided to try and set up your own. That took time, though, and money, and though Anthony had a little equity in his house you'd agreed to take a couple of small, private cases to make up as much as you could. That was how you found yourself here, ready to earn a reasonable sum in exchange for eliminating a lone Type Two. A few jobs like this would help set you up nicely.

The kitchen was slightly warmer than the rest of the house, the west-facing windows having allowed in the last of the sun before it dipped behind the trees in the distance. Together you set up your kit bags on the table - you didn't have much: a few handmade salt bombs, filings and chains, a few flares only in case of emergency (they'd cost far too much to waste) and of course your rapiers. Lockwood pulled something extra from his bag, a small plastic-wrapped packet. Bourbon biscuits.

“You're the best,” you smiled as he opened the packet and offered one to you, which you bit into quickly.

“I know,” he grinned back, brushing a stray crumb from your lip. You blushed.

The owner of the house had provided a floor plan, but her account of the Visitor had been so inconsistent and vague that it was difficult to pinpoint a possible location for the Source. Anthony spread the roll of paper across the table, and you wrapped your arms around his waist, peering over his shoulder at the diagram. There were two floors and a basement, but the latter had been gutted a month ago ready for renovation so there was nothing in there at present.

“Let's start upstairs and work our way back down,” Anthony suggested. “More likely to find something in one of the bedrooms.”

“True, but it's a lot of wasted time if we don't. Why don't we split up and take a floor each?”

His expression soured, and he moved closer, taking your hand again and rubbing small anxious circles above your thumb. “That's smart, but I hate the idea of leaving you on your own.” Even when he didn't agree with your ideas, he always found a way to compliment them. Just one of the things that made you love him all the more.

You squeezed his hand reassuringly. “It won't be for long, and I'll call for you the moment I find anything suspicious.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” You leant forward and placed your lips delicately on his. He held you close, your hands on his chest, one of his on your waist and the other fidgeting with your necklace. It was one he'd bought for you, a small pink gemstone in a heart shape on a simple silver chain. His promise to always love and protect you. Not a day had gone by since that you didn't wear it. He nodded at last; he knew he would, he'd do anything you asked of him in a heartbeat. It still worried him not to be by your side, but he trusted that you were a good agent who could handle yourself and that you meant it when you said you'd call for him. His only condition was that if the Source was more likely to be upstairs, that would be where he'd look.

So it was that you found yourself, torch in one hand and the other on your rapier, exploring the ground floor. The silence was oppressive, seeping the confidence from you with every step. Not a ticking clock, not the creaking of the old building settling, not even the residual hum of electricity or plumbing, just the occasional thud from your boyfriend upstairs. Working quickly, you ruled out the dining room and bathroom. That left the lounge. The air smelled musty, and a shiver ran through you as you entered. That was never a good sign. You pulled out your thermometer and watched the temperature drop the further in you went.

“Anthony?” Your voice felt deafening against the quiet of the room, but you knew it hadn't been anywhere near loud enough to travel upstairs. No, this was silly, you could handle this. There were no signs of a spirit yet, for all you knew the change in temperature could be from the wind blowing down the chimney into the empty fireplace. You flicked the torch off, using your now free hand to hold your necklace, grounding yourself as you tuned in and listened. There was nothing at first. You wondered whether Anthony was having more luck upstairs; so far down here had been thoroughly useless. Maybe you should go and check on him. But then you heard it. A tragic, gut-wrenching wail, getting closer.

“Anthony?” you called again, louder this time but as steady as you could. There was movement above. He'd heard. So had the spirit, the wailing definitely nearby now. You pulled out your rapier.

The temperature plummeted.

A screech, so close you would have felt the breath on your neck had it come from a living being, made you whirl round. Your rapier clattered to the floor. Shit. Stay calm.

“Anthony!” you yelled, not caring how scared you sounded. His footsteps rattled down the stairs. He was so close.

You lunged towards your rapier.

The Visitor lunged towards you.

Lockwood was in the back bedroom when he heard his name. All his senses were immediately on high alert - you were the only person he allowed to call him Anthony, so he always reacted differently to his first name anyway, and under the circumstances hearing it immediately made him fear the worst.

“Y/n?” He crept out onto the landing, slowly pulling out his rapier and listening intently for any more noise. It was moments like these he was grateful not to be a Listener, he could focus on you and not the sounds of the house's history. He was only two steps onto the staircase when his name came again, louder and more panicked. Without a second thought he ran down the stairs, only holding back enough to make sure he didn't fall. His blood ran cold when he heard you scream.

You tried to both duck and spin as your hand came into contact with the hilt of your rapier. The blade sliced upwards, connecting with the Visitor, but it was too late. Its clawing grey hand clutched onto your shoulder moments before it disappeared. You screamed as tendrils of ice shot through you, radiating outwards from the spot. Through the fog of pain that had suddenly engulfed your brain you heard Anthony, close by now, yelling your name. You had to go to him. He'd know what to do. Everything would be okay.

You took one step, then another. Your torso was going numb, your entire arm having already fallen victim to the plasm which was turning your shoulder a violent shade of blue. One more step, and your legs gave out. You just about made out the silhouette of your boyfriend in the doorway, rushing towards you as you slumped to the ground.

“No, no, no, y/n!” Anthony's face swam into view, trying to mask his utter horror for your sake. “It's going to be okay, darling, I'll go and get help.”

The fingers of your good hand twitched towards his and he took it immediately, despite how cold it was. You struggled to focus on him through your tears, and noticed the same in his eyes. “Ant-” Your voice was failing fast.

“Shh, I've got you.” He cradled your head, his own tears mingling with yours on your cheek, but you could barely feel them. Almost everything was numb. The blue had spread across your chest, and the little pink heart stood out starkly against it. “I'm so sorry, my darling,” Lockwood said softly. He choked back a sob as he leant down, placing a kiss into your hair. You wanted to do the same, to speak to him, to do anything.

His face was the last thing you saw before everything went black.

—

You had no idea how much time had passed when your vision returned, a room slowly materialising in front of your eyes. It was a bedroom, filled with knick-knacks and bathed in a warm golden light. It looked familiar, but you hadn't been here when it went dark, you'd been… somewhere else. It was so hard to remember, but you knew there had been a dark, dusty room and a feeling of agonising cold. And a person. There'd been someone there, someone you needed to say something to. Now here you were, everything feeling so normal yet so bizarre; you were still you, still able to move and see and hear, but there was a disconnect between those sensations and reality. Nothing felt real. You looked around again, desperate for answers.

There.

Perched on the edge of the bed was a boy. His crisp white shirt was a stark contrast to his dishevelled dark hair, doleful brown eyes and the deep eyebags beneath. He looked exhausted, like he'd barely slept or eaten. There was something in his hand, balanced carefully on the tips of his fingers: a necklace, with a little pink heart. A spark of recognition bloomed in the back of your mind. That was your necklace. It was important. He had no right to be holding it. You drifted forward. The boy looked so familiar. Oh. The icy feeling rippled through your chest again, and you remembered. He'd been there when that feeling had taken over your body until you couldn't feel anything else. Rage boiled in your veins, and a snarl crept onto your face. But then, as quickly as it started, the anger subsided. He'd not caused it. He'd held you so gently, cried as everything faded. You knew him. You opened your mouth, finally ready to speak.

Lockwood stared at the tiny gemstone in his hand, unsure whether he wanted anything to happen this time. He'd secretly slipped it from you before DEPRAC had arrived, and spent the past few weeks periodically taking it out of the little silver-glass box in his bedside table. Part of him desperately wanted you to come back, to let him see you once more, but the other part knew it would hurt so much. What if you didn't recognise him and turned violent like so many Visitors? What if you didn't because you didn't recognise anything, just hung there as a shadow of your former self? What if you did, and he had to live with putting you back in the case and removing you from his life all over again?

The decision was made for him when a soft golden glow appeared in the corner of his bedroom. There you were. Tears welled in his eyes as the image of you sent him spiralling back to that day: your edges were a little fuzzy but everything else was the same, from your outfit to the scared look in your eye to the dark patch spreading from your shoulder. You looked at him now and he was relieved to watch you processing your surroundings. The person he knew was still in there, you weren't just a hollow shell. Suddenly you snarled and he flinched, fingers twitching towards the silver-glass case.

You moved closer.

You stopped.

Your face fell.

He watched the glimmer of recognition in your eyes, and the tears he'd been holding back spilled out along with all the things he'd wanted to say for months.

“Oh my darling, I'm so sorry. I should never have let this happen, I should have been there for you, and-”

He paused. You were mouthing something. Over and over. Your death loop, he presumed. God, just putting death in the same sentence as you stung.

“I'd give anything to be able to hear you right now,” he said, voice wavering. You stopped, giving him a sad look. The realisation that at the very least you could understand him, even if you couldn't communicate fully, hit him like a ton of bricks.

“Lockwood!” a boy's voice called from outside. You both looked at the door and your anger flared again. The boy on the bed shook his head.

“He's a friend,” he told you reassuringly, before calling back, “One minute, George!” You waited in the corner, puzzled. The boy, Lockwood (you knew that name, didn't you?), gave you an apologetic look. “I'm sorry, y/n, I've got to go. I'll explain soon, I promise.” He dropped the necklace into its little case and clicked it shut, and you watched the world dissolve.

—

You still weren't sure how much time had passed when you found yourself back in that bedroom, but it didn't feel like very long. The last rays of the sunset poked through the gaps around the drawn curtains, the room lit instead by a lamp on the bedside table. The boy, Lockwood, was sitting on the bed again holding your necklace, but this time he looked at you almost immediately. His hair was a little neater, his eyebags more pronounced.

“Hi,” he said quietly. “Sorry if I disturbed you, I don't… really know how this works.”

You knew he couldn't hear you, but you gave your message again anyway.

“Maybe I should see if George knows how to lip-read,” he chuckled wryly. The sound reminded you of home, wherever that was. Things were still hazy, but part of you had a feeling this was it. Here, with this boy. “Which reminds me,” he continued, “I did promise to tell you about him.”

You settled into the space in the corner, allowing Lockwood's low, gentle voice to wash over you. It was incredibly calming. George was his new housemate, he told you, who'd been living here for about a month. It was all very confusing - it had felt like both minutes and years had passed since you were last here and the same before that, but he explained that the other boy had moved into the house in mid-September, and the last time you'd been here was a week ago in late October. Where was all the time going?

“I have no idea whether you experience time when your Source is contained, whether you're aware of what's going on in between or remember things from last time,” he admitted. Source. You knew about those. They were what you'd been looking for that night in that dark old house. A spirit had been tied to it, and you had to seal the Source to get rid of it. But you'd failed and it had found you, and now… your chest tightened at both the memory and the realisation. Nothing felt real because you weren't. You were just a Visitor. You continued to listen numbly as Lockwood kept talking. Not much wonder he'd recoiled when you first appeared, he'd seen what the touch of a ghost had done to you and without knowing you'd almost inflicted the same fate. You vowed in that moment that no matter what, you'd never let that happen.

The next few months saw Lockwood getting you out every chance he got. Bit by bit, he helped restore your memories and did his best to accommodate you even though the two of you couldn't properly communicate. He set up a little daily tear-off calendar on his dresser so you could keep track of how long it had been between visits, and stored his kit bag in the bottom of his wardrobe so you could move more freely around the room. Eventually, you'd come to remember him more. Not just the events from the night you died, but him. Your boyfriend, Anthony. You wanted nothing more than to be close to him, to be a comforting presence, but you knew you couldn't. Not only because you couldn't touch, but because deep down you knew that as much as you treasured being able to keep him in your life (or rather, afterlife), you had to let him go sooner or later and he needed to do the same with you. He'd been followed around by grief since long before you met him, and you hated that you were adding to it. You were just glad to see him slowly improving week by week - his face was a little brighter, and it seemed George was making sure he stayed fed. You'd have to thank the other boy if you ever got chance. Anthony said the two of you would have got along if you'd met in life, and even now George's obsession with the Problem would have made him your biggest fan, but their friendship was too new and besides he wasn't a Listener either so you'd not be able to tell him anything.

“I've got something to show you,” Anthony announced as you materialised one sunny day in late spring. He sat down with a large pink folder and patted the space next to him on the bed. You tilted your head in confusion.

“Come on,” he sighed fondly, “you never had any sense of personal space before, don't start now. Just no hugging.”

You glowed a little brighter and drifted over, your legs disappearing into the mattress until your torso was level with his. Being careful where he positioned his arms, he angled the folder towards you. It was a photo album, labelled in handwriting you recognised as your own. Page by page, he took you through your memories, giving you time to linger on each one: you as a baby, then a toothy toddler with your first pet; your family and childhood friends; Polaroids of your first team in training to become agents. His hands trembled a little as he reached the next section. On the left were four photos: the team you'd transferred to, the one he'd been training with; a slightly blurry action shot of the two of you sparring for the first time; a goofy photo he'd taken of you cartwheeling down a grassy hill after a case; your team all proudly holding their Grade Four licences. On the other side, surrounded by two styles of hand-drawn hearts, was the two of you hugging on the steps of 35 Portland Row, Anthony's lips pressed in a smile against the top of your head. You remembered that sensation well, a frequent occurrence right up until the moment you died. The rest of the album was full of photos of the two of you, ones taken by others and candids you'd snapped of each other. You felt a pang of regret that you'd never get to take any more.

Anthony turned another page. Hold on. You knew for certain there were no more photos. You looked sideways at your boyfriend, and he gave you a bashful smile. Pasted across a double spread was a copy of a certificate from DEPRAC, confirming A.J. Lockwood & Co Investigators as a registered agency. Inspector Barnes, who you vaguely recalled meeting once or twice, had signed as the licensing authority. Anthony and George had put their names down as the founding members. But then underneath that, in Anthony's familiar hand, he had added an extra section. Honorary Member: y/n y/l/n.

He looked at you so lovingly. “We did it, darling.”

You would have reached for his hand if you could.

—

Weeks began to pass before Lockwood got you to visit again. He'd have spent every day with you, but business was good and he owed it to you to make a proper go of it. In the meantime, George talked incessantly about Visitors which gave Lockwood a chance to think about you. Each time he finally got to see you again he'd apologise profusely, and you'd repeat your death loop back to him. He tried so hard to figure out what you were saying - his Sight was good, you were as clear as day and he knew your every quirk and mannerism, but he just couldn't put the movements of your lips to the right sounds.

Everything changed the day he met Lucy Carlyle. From the moment she set foot in his living room, he felt like he was supposed to have met her. The feeling only grew when he gave her the interview tests - plenty of people had passed through, some with better Talents than others, but none had come even close to the Listening abilities of the girl before him. When she spoke of the gentleness she found in his uncle's pen-knife, he knew he had to hire her.

Lucy managed to defy even his high expectations on the Annabel Ward case. He kept his focus on the young woman's spirit hovering at the end of the corridor, rapier levelled in case the details of her aggressive nature were true, but he couldn't help but think of the first day he brought you back and how quickly you'd retreated and shown a level of sentience he'd never expected from a Visitor. Was this poor woman the same? Lucy's eyes were closed, listening intently.

“She's in pain,” she said softly.

“Of course she is, she's dead.”

“No, something's different.”

He was intrigued instantly. “What's different?”

She shushed him. “I can almost…”

Annabel launched forward, sending Lucy crashing through the wooden railing in her attempt to dodge the grasping hand. Déjà vu overwhelmed Lockwood, your pained eyes flashing across his mind as he staggered backwards.

No.

He'd already lived through this once and regretted the outcome every day since. Now was his chance to redeem himself. He sprang towards the ghost, fending her off with his rapier, pulling Lucy from her desperate grip on the picture frame as soon as the coast was clear.

“Did it touch you?” he asked in a panic as she clung to him.

“Course not, I'd be dead.” Didn't he know it. The more she explained how she'd connected with the spirit, the more sure he became. Later, when they experimented with Annabel's necklace and he listened to Lucy describe the scene in such detail, he knew for certain.

“He loves me. You love me, don't you?” Her hand stroked delicately across his cheek, and he fought the urge to lean into the touch. For that brief moment, he could pretend it was you, still with him, saying those words. Perhaps with Lucy's help, it could be.

—

It had been a while. The trees outside Anthony's window were tinted a beautiful copper. You couldn't wait to hear his updates this time.

“There's a sadness, but so much love too. She feels very kind.” That wasn't Anthony's voice. Something was wrong. There was a girl sitting beside him on the bed, holding a little pink heart on a chain. Your necklace. You grew defensive, preparing to strike.

The boy looked up and saw you glaring. “It's okay, darling.” The girl followed his gaze. “Lucy, this is y/n, my late girlfriend. Y/n, this is our new associate, Lucy. She's a Listener.” Ah. Finally. You settled back down and took in the girl properly. She was pretty, with a warm brunette bob and a blue jumper which made her eyes pop. She smiled up at you, a genuine friendly smile.

“Nice to meet you,” she said sweetly. Anthony gave her an encouraging nod. You noticed that he seemed a little nervous, but there was also a calmness to him that had been missing for the past year. If that was Lucy's influence, then she was alright in your eyes.

Anthony spoke to you again. “She's brilliant, connected with a Visitor on our last case and I thought maybe she could finally help us figure out what you've been trying to say.” You nodded in agreement, and the girl closed her hand around the necklace.

You weren't sure whether you were in Lucy's head or whether she was in yours. The two of you blended into one as she ventured into your memories. Anthony's room melted away around you, sending you back to that cold dark room. You bristled.

“It's a bit different having her in the room with us,” Lucy murmured, eyes closed. “Let me know if either of you need me to stop.”

Anthony glanced at you, flickering slightly but still present and unagitated. “We're okay, go on.”

Meticulously, she described what you were both experiencing, or in your case reliving. It was hard knowing you were getting closer to the agony all over again, but it was important for your boyfriend to finally have a chance for answers and closure, so you kept the inevitable moving along.

“Anthony?” Lucy said softly, the same way you had. By the look on his face, it seemed he was realising now what you had at the time - that you'd tried to call him and hadn't been loud enough, that if only you'd tried again straight away, maybe you'd still be alive. “Anthony?” she called again. “Anthony!” You heard your own scream echo in your mind, felt the cold grasping your shoulder. The boy reached out and gripped Lucy's free hand, never taking his eyes off you. The gesture was supportive for her, but meant for you too. A tear rolled down his cheek. Lucy's breathing was shallow.

“It hurts,” she gasped, “and she's scared.”

“I should have been there quicker.” His voice was shaking with emotion, barely able to get the words out.

“No, there's no anger. She knew you were coming, and having you there through the end was a comfort.”

Anthony swallowed thickly. “Her death loop. Can you hear it?”

She opened her eyes and watched you as you spoke, the words spilling from her lips a second after.

“It's okay. It's not your fault.”

The boy broke down, his sobs rattling through the small room. Lucy held out her arms and he folded into them. She threw you an apologetic glance, and you said it again to her. “It's okay. It's not your fault.”

They were still hugging when, with his and your permission, Lucy gently slipped your necklace back into its case.

—

Now that the secret was out, you really did become an honorary member of the agency. Sure, you couldn't exactly contribute to the cases, but other than that the whole team treated you as one of their own. Anthony always waited for your opinion on big decisions, which you could make quite apparent with how happy or angry your energy was. George was absolutely fascinated by you, and took every opportunity to quiz the others on your awareness of various things and how you reacted to his experiments. Lucy often got you out on her own to have another girl to talk to. In return, of course, she'd fill you in on any gossip they came across or funny things that happened on cases that the boys were too embarrassed to tell you about. Through it all, you watched the three of them grow into a little family. Anthony and Lucy especially had clicked with each other; they reminded you of how you and he had been. That realisation filled you with a mixture of relief and melancholy. You loved Anthony so much, all you wanted was for him to be happy, but you'd be lying if you didn't wish it was you putting the light back in his eyes.

He sat you down shortly after New Year. His face was sombre but hopeful, and he fidgeted with his ring. Part of you could already tell what was coming.

“I don't really know how to say this,” he began hesitantly, “but after everything we've been through, you deserve to hear it.” You waited patiently for him to find the words he needed. Really, you had all the time in the world.

After a few moments, he spoke again. “I promised to always love you, and I will still keep that promise until the day I die…” But. There had to be a but. “...but I really care about Lucy too, and I just-” He didn't need to finish the sentence. And technically he was single. And he stood a chance of having a life with her. And she wasn't going to keep him tied to his past and his grief.

“It's okay.” Now he knew what your death loop was, he could tell what you'd said, and the way you'd limited it to just those words was a reminder of how remarkably well you understood everything that was happening. How you were as close to being a person as you could be, how it wasn't close enough.

“Promise?”

You touched the hollow of your neck, where the outline of a little sparkling heart sat against the darkness.

He nodded in understanding and reached for the silver-glass case. “Thank you, darling.”

“It's okay.”

It's not your fault.

#lockwood & co #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood #fem!reader #ghost!reader #angst #lockwood and co fic

[starlvenus]

ghost lover :( !!!

summary sam's dead girlfriend tries to convince him to go with her D: !!

warnings! manipulative reader? and a small description of blood and one mention of flesh

sam winchester x fem ghost!reader

*note* i've been inactive again.. :/ but uhm!! I hope you guys like this one.. its been sitting around for a bit

Sam groans. Slumping into the car's front seat.

He barely hears what his brother was saying, his mind somewhere else.

His eyebrows furrow showing the discomfort he felt as he plucked a stray piece of flesh from his hair. He glances down and grimaces at the sight of his clothes. Which were stained crimson red with blood.

He thanked God there was more than one shower.

Despite the drive being short it felt exhausting draining what little energy he had left.

Sam leaps out the car, beelining for the shower eager to scrub away the blood clinging to his skin.

After stripping away his clothes he steps in the shower, the cold water engulfing him.

He looks down; watching the water run down his skin. The dark red liquid swirls around his feet before disappearing down the drain. Once he scrubs his body his fingers tangle in his hair, he runs his fingers through his hair the best he could, trying to get the knots out.

He massages the shampoo into his hair, the white bubbles gradually take on a pink hue, tainted by the remnants of blood.

The sensation of cold hands caressing his chest interrupts his thoughts, her gentle fingers tracing delicate circles on his skin.

He senses her presence before he turns to see her.

Her head rests against his back; a comforting weight that he welcomes without hesitation.

He feels a tingling and chilling sensation throughout his body. Her body phasing through him.

The tingle stays just for a bit, in no time she's leaning on him.

His eyes trail down to her figure. His mouth opens, his voice coming out in a weak whispered tone. “You shouldn't be here.”

Her fingers trace small circles on his chest, ignoring his statement. “I miss you..” Her head tilts up her wet hair sticking to his skin. “I miss us”

“You can't stay.” He says, more firmly. 

The hand resting on her waist stays in its place. His body betrays his mind.

Her eyes look up into his, pleading with him. “I know.. But I can't help it- I need you to understand.. You need to come with me”  His eyebrows twitch at her words shaking his head. “I can't just abandon everything I've worked for.”

She backs up from him, her form flickering “but what about us?” Her hand moves to his “what about our love? Don't you love me Sam?”

“Of course I love you,” he murmurs, “but I can't.  I can't leave Dean. Not like this.”

Her form flickers once again, this time in frustration “you always put him first, don't you?” Her tone is accusatory and laced with bitterness “but what about me Sam? What about our love? Is it worth nothing to you?” 

“I love you. More than anything- but I can't just leave him, not after everything.” He pauses thinking of what he could say to make her stay. “Look- isn't there a way we can still.. See each other?” Looking down at her he wraps his arms around her again. She doesn't budge nor does she move away. She looks up at him, her eyes filled with frustration. “No Sam,” she snaps, her voice filled with irritation “I'm tired of this back and forth. I want you with me, and I want it now.”

Before Sam could say anything there was a knock on the bathroom door, Dean's voice following shortly after. “Been in there for a long time. Are you okay there?” His voice was laced with concern.

Her body flickers away, the sudden absence leaving him feeling cold and hollow. His arms wrapped around nothing. He swallows hard, clearing his throat. “yeah im fine.” His voice was unsteady and strained.

He reaches out to turn off the water. The silence that followed after was deafening, occasionally filled with the steady drip of water, echoing throughout the room.

#supernatural #dean winchester #castiel #sam winchester #x reader #supernatural x reader #fem reader #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader #bobby singer #ghost #ghost!reader #mwuuahahahhahaah #maniuplative reader

[youfreakinturltle]

Protect You Pt. 3

(A/N): Okay friends! This is potentially the final part to this series! If y’all would like a part 4 please let me know! I was sorta maybe possibly thinking of a slightly smutty part 4 buuuut idk yet, y’all let me know! There is a slight Skyrim reference so iykyk lol!

Pairing: Colby Brock x ghost!fem!reader

Warnings: you know how it be, some language, mentions of death, mentions of reincarnation, food mentioned, superstition, like one sentence that mentions prostitution (reader’s mother on Nassau), I think that’s it, if I missed anything let me know!

It had now been 2 years since you attached yourself to Colby and started going on adventures with him and his friends. Everywhere he went, you were right beside him, keeping him safe from entities and people alike. While they were still scared during some of these adventures, they were far more comfortable knowing you were there. Especially Colby, who you had grown quite close with during your time together. He had taken to spending every evening once he retired to his room communicating with you. At first it was through writing on the mirror until he decided that wasn’t enough and wanted to actually talk to you.

About a year ago you two had begun talking via the Estes Method with him sitting on his bed, leaving room for you to sit next to him, with headphones and a blindfold on. You told him many tales about your life, all the way from growing up on Nassau with your mother to your final hunt, The Urca de Lima. You once even told him about a flashback you’d had to your childhood one day that made you finally realize who exactly your father was - none other than Captain Hornigold himself. He could faintly make out the sound of you crying telling him this, making his heart break realizing just how upset you were. That was the only time where you two had been able to touch by Colby reaching out to you. He was so hurt from hearing you so sad, he unthinkingly reached his hand out to place it on top of yours. By some miracle, he did indeed touch your hand. It was a quick, fleeting feeling, but it meant the world to the both of you. You, who hadn’t felt a person’s touch in centuries, and he, who was beginning to feel his heart ache from being so close to you, but never being able to see or touch you. That was about six months ago now.

Since that day you slowly began to realize that you were no longer simply here to protect him, which was still highly important to you, but you were beginning to feel things you hadn’t since you died. The last time you felt this way was for none other than John Silver, the man who stole Captain Flint’s Urca de Lima map and somehow became one of The Walrus’ most valued crew members. You were beginning to fall in love with Colby. While it filled you with joy to spend every day with him, keeping him safe, it also broke your heart to know you could never truly be with him. And sitting in the back of your mind was knowing that he could never possibly feel that way about a ghost.

One day the two of you were sitting in the living room with Sam, Jake, and Corey, watching a show you learned was called “Family Guy”. Next to you, Colby kept an earbud in that was connected to the spirit box in his pocket so you could talk to him any time you wanted. All you had to do was give him a tap on the arm and he would reach into his pocket and turn it on. After about the fifth time of this, the others began to notice.

“What are you doing man, getting the scores for the game or something?” asked Corey.

Colby laughed and tried to wave him off, but it seemed the guys were on a roll.

“Or are you maybe talking to (Y/N) again?” asked Jake with a cheeky grin.

“And what if I were? That a problem?” Colby asked with a laugh.

“Nah, no problem, just starting to think you might have a crush.” The guys began laughing while Colby glanced in your direction.

“Ha ha, very funny guys, stop before you make her uncomfortable.”

You were beginning to squirm, hoping Colby wouldn’t take them too seriously. You weren’t sure if you could handle that quite yet, truth be told, you were just coming to terms with having these feelings at all. Let alone be able to convey that to him yet. Before your thoughts could travel any further you hear Corey say, “Why would that make (Y/N) uncomfortable? I mean unless she has a crush on you too.”

Jake and Corey laugh with each other while Sam scolds them about being inappropriate. Colby begins shifting in his seat like he’s uncomfortable as well. You give him a minute to say something, anything, every second your anxiety growing.

When you start to think he won’t say anything at all, he turns to you and did quite possibly the worst thing he could’ve done, “(Y/N)… do you…?”

Your eyes all but bulge out of your head before you shoot up off the couch and run to Colby’s room, slamming the door shut behind you, praying he would leave you be. You look around the room for a moment and your eyes land on the shelf he had put up for you, filled with things he had gotten for you on his adventures, claiming, “it just doesn’t seem right that this is our room now and it’s only filled with my stuff. You deserve things too.” Thinking back on your times together, you begin to cry, not realizing it until you felt the tears streaming down your face. Behind you, the door opens and closes quietly and without turning around you know exactly who it is.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I didn’t mean to upset you in any way. I’ve got the spirit box on still if you want to talk to me. If you don’t I completely understand. Would you like to be left alone for a while or is it okay if I stay?”

You took a moment to collect yourself and told him he can stay, to come sit with you. Settling in next to each other on the bed, you realized it’d never been this awkward between the two of you. You’d always had this comfortable air together. You just wanted this uneasy feeling to go away. Before you could speak up though, Colby says, “I’m not sure how you feel about this, but I can’t keep it in any longer. (Y/N), I like you. More than I probably should, but I don’t care about what they say or think, I only care about what you think. I know it would never really work between us, but I can’t deny how I feel. I’m falling in love with you, (Y/N). If that makes you uncomfortable please tell me. I just- I couldn’t-“

Whatever he was trying to say was cut off by a little sob. You whipped your head around to look at him and realized he was crying. You reached your hand up to wipe his tears away, momentarily forgetting that you can’t, so instead you opt for cradling his face gently in your hands. He seemed to be able to feel, or at least tell, that you were touching him. Smiling at you, he opened his mouth to speak again before you cut him off.

“I love you too. It scares me, but I do. I don’t know what to do or say, but all I know is that I love you and I would spend the rest of eternity fighting to protect you.”

He is staring at you wide eyed now, his eyes filled with happiness, relief, and an overwhelming amount of love. You almost pull away from the unfamiliarity of it, but decide against it. Leaning forward you rest your forehead against his and close your eyes, reveling in the knowledge that he does share your feelings, it isn’t completely one sided this time. Riding your high of happiness and relief, you hesitantly ask him, “Can I try something…?”

“Of course.”

You slowly lean forward until you gently feel your lips ghosting over his. For a moment, you feel a wave of warmth flow over you before you realize, you can feel him. You can actually feel him! He seems to realize this quickly and taking advantage of the fleeting moment of your corporeality, he kisses you back. You cling to one another as long as you’re able before you feel yourself beginning to fade again.

The airy laugh he lets out matches your own. You’re both so happy you don’t know what to do with yourselves past whispering words of love and affection to one another until Colby eventually falls asleep. Following your nightly routine, you lie down next to him and close your eyes. Even though you can’t actually sleep, it’s nice to feel that little bit of normalcy.

Something about this night is different though. Because one moment you’re laying next to Colby with your hand resting atop his, and the next you’re standing in a dark void. You begin to panic, thinking you’re finally moving on.

“No, no, nonono. This can’t be happening. Not now! Please not now!!”

“Do not worry, my child. I would never do such a thing to you.”

Turning around, you quickly take up a defensive position. You see a woman standing in front of you. She’s tall, beautiful, and dressed in a flowing white dress with her burgundy tresses flowing gracefully past her shoulders.

“Who are you?” You ask, your voice echoing out into the void.

“My name is Mara, goddess of love and compassion. I watched over you through your tragic life. I’m so sorry that all happened to you, my love.”

“So I had an actual goddess watching over me and I still died like that? Regardless of that, it’s been over 300 years now, why are you just now showing up? Do you have any idea how alone I felt all that time?!”

“I know, my child, I know. Again, I’m so sorry. But given my position, there was nothing I could do regarding your death for that is not my domain. But I was able to negotiate with the goddess of death into allowing you reincarnation. You were meant to reincarnate and find John again in your next life if you had passed on as intended. Though it seems I failed to take into account how hard headed you are!” She finished with a twinkling, airy laugh.

“If you’re here to offer me reincarnation now, I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to decline. I like things how they are now. I’m finally happy. I don’t want to leave Colby. He needs me, he needs my protection.”

Mara smiles at you in understanding and continues, “I know, darling. I’m here with a new offer. Become my champion, and you may return to Colby. Not as a spirit, but as a person. Does that sound alright?”

“…and what would becoming your champion entail?”

“Simply doing as you are now. Rid the world of any demons or evil entities you come across. Spread love and compassion to all that you meet. Do this, and you may spend your life with your love.”

You don’t hesitate for a moment before agreeing to her terms. You had already come to terms with the fact that you would do anything for him, to be with him. And like she said, it was already what you were doing. So long as Colby was safe and uninvolved in any divine deal you made, you’d do anything.

Mara smiled at you and pulled you in for a hug. “Should you ever need me, all you need to is ask. I look forward to watching your happiness. I love you dearly, my child.”

You open your eyes to see light shining through the windows and look down at yourself. Not only realizing that you were actually asleep, but you have a body! A tangible, corporeal body! You roll over to see Colby sleeping soundly next to you and reach a hand up to graze his cheek. You’re over the moon feeling his warmth seep into your fingertips. He begins to stir and you contemplate pulling your hand away to allow him more sleep, but decide against it, too excited to see how he would react.

His beautiful blue eyes begin to flutter open and land on you immediately. He lets out a yelp and jumps up into a seated position. Giggling, you look up at his bewildered face as he whispers, “…(Y/N)? How is this possible? Is this real? Am I still dreaming??”

Sitting up, you take his hand in yours and say, “I’m real, Colby. I’m really here. It’s me, (Y/N). It’s a long story, but I swear to you, it’s all true. I’m really here and I’m not disappearing again. I promise.”

As you speak, he seems to believe you and tears begin streaming down his face. Before you can say any more he pulls you into his arms, clinging tightly to you. You wrap your arms around him, taking in the new, yet distantly familiar feeling. You spend the entirety of the day locked away in his room, watching movies and holding onto each other like you would disappear at any moment. He ordered lots of food the moment you two had collected yourself as you both realized you hadn’t eaten in a very long time. To say the least, it was the best day you’d had in centuries.

When you felt yourself starting to get tired, you clung to Colby even tighter, your anxiety seeping back into your mind. Slightly fearful that today hadn’t been real. You feel Colby pull you closer as he reminds you that everything would be okay with a slow, sweet kiss. Smiling, you snuggle in closer to him, feeling if you were any closer you’d be one.

Next thing you know, you’re waking up to your second day back in the physical world. Realizing the day before hadn’t been a dream, you’re over the moon knowing you get to spend the rest of your new life with Colby as his significant other, rather than just his spiritual protector.

#colby brock imagine #colby Brock x reader #sam and colby #colby brock x y/n #Colby Brock x ghost!reader #fan fiction #Colby Brock #pirate!reader #ghost!reader #protect you series

[selfcarecap]

Transparent Soul [p.p]

Pairing: Peter Parker x ghost!reader

Summary: You’ve been a ghost for nearly a year now, but your new friend Peter makes you feel more human than ever before. You fall in love with him hard and fast and you know he has the power to turn you back into a human, but you only have one chance. Is he really the right person?

Warnings: semi-suicidal thought for like ten seconds, a few mentions of depression, post nwh, mentions of death and dead parents and a car crash, but i promise it’s not a sad fic 💀, smut (no ghost smut </3, oral, f masturbation, finger sucking, protected vaginal sex), little bit of angst, this fic’s timeline vs mcu timeline is a bit wonky but we’ll ignore that <3 (—> peter is college age)

Word Count: um. 13k

Happy Halloween!! Finally managed to write a Halloween fic lol, I hope you enjoy ghost!reader <3

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One of the things you hate most about being a ghost is not being able to touch anything. Your hand floats right through whatever you try to touch. 

You’d give everything to finally pet the cat that you always hang out with on the fire escape of an apartment building in New York. She’s a black cat with piercing yellow eyes and despite being a stray, her fur looks as soft as anything and you keep each other company around this block of houses, though you prefer the one you’re currently on.

You could call this house your home, but you don‘t live in it. You‘re a ghost,. You have no need for an apartment. You just observe the people who live here, without ever interacting with them.

From experience you know that people don‘t react nicely to a ghost, unlike your cat friend. You’ve decided to call her Lucky, simply because you feel Lucky to have her. She’s the only friend you’ve made since becoming a ghost.

Lucky doesn‘t seem to care that you‘re a ghost, or maybe she doesn‘t even know. She always hangs out with you on this fire escape and stays with you for hours. Sometimes the brown-haired boy in apartment 7A leaves his leftovers out for her. You‘re glad someone‘s taking care of her - not that you‘ve ever seen him pet her. But he leaves food for her anyway. 

Lucky has decided to leave you for the night - probably anoyed that you won’t pet her no matter how many times she tries to rub her head against your leg, only to be confused because she can’t actually touch you.

You’re visible, but just barely. A faint picture of the human you used to be, anyone could see you, but they would immediately realise that you’re not human, with your transluscent skin and hair and clothes. 

You can choose to make yourself fullly invisible though, and it’s how you spend most of your days. Otherwise you’d only be met with fear and malice.

You make yourself invisible as soon as you see the boy from 7A swinging through the streets. Oh, have you forgot to mention? He’s Spider-Man.

You watch him as he makes sure no one sees him climbing into the window of his apartment. He closes the window behind himself and you look away when he changes into his pyjamas.

He’s barely home, always out late being Spider-Man and leaving early in the morning, you assume for work or college - you’ve seen him studying at his desk. He never has friends over and you wonder if he’s as lonely as you are or if he just meets people somewhere else.

You’ve been wanting to talk to him for a while. You’re hesitant because ever since you’ve been a ghost no human has ever reacted positively to you, but Spider-Man could be different.

He’s Spider-Man. An Avenger. If he’s fought a purple alien with a magic glove, then maybe he won’t be too creeped out by a ghost.

You don‘t want to put all of your trust and hope into him but he‘ll be the first person you talk to in months, so it is a big deal no matter how much you try to convince yourself of the opposite.

You‘ve tried to talk to people before, only to leave them traumatised or calling an exorcist and you had to find a new home again. You like this house. It‘s not in the nicest area but the people who live here are fun to observe and you‘d like to stay here, so you can only hope Spider-Man won‘t make you leave. 

The thought of talking to him makes you so nervous though, so you’ll give yourself some time before you do it.

The next day, you’re sitting by the fire escape where you always sit.

It’s dark already and not a lot of people are out during this Thursday winter night, so you’re just sitting (well, floating) with your legs dangling off the railing. You’re not bothering to make yourself invisible - no one would see you here anyway.

You’re looking out for Lucky to come and join you, but she’s not here tonight, so you’re just listening to New York’s noises.

And then everything happens so quickly.

You turn your head and you see Spider-Man. You weren’t expecting him to come home yet and you’re too surprised to remember to make yourself invisible. Before you know it, he lands right next to you and you hear a loud and shocked “Oh” from him.

You make yourself invisible but it’s too late, he’s already seen you, so you become visible again. This is your chance to make a friend.

You don’t have a heart, but if you did it would be hammering against your ribcage at full speed. You don’t know what to say but the good news is he’s still here. He hasn’t told you to leave yet. 

He just looks a little scared, with his forearms pulled tight to his chest. You can’t read his expression because he still has his mask on.

“Hi,” is all that comes out of your mouth. You haven’t really used your voice much but it sounds surprisingly normal.

He doesn’t reply. “Are you.. are you Spider-Man?” You ask, even though it’s obvious. But you don’t know what else to say. It’s hard to start a conversation when you don’t know if the other person is about to call an exorcist.

He replies with a shaky voice. “Yeah, I am. And, uh, and you are?”

You tell him your name and he nodds politely, still unsure.

“Yeah. I’m a ghost,” you smile slightly.

He relaxes a little, “Oh, I thought so. I wanted to ask but I didn’t know if it was like, uh offensive.”

You laugh and it feels so unfamiliar, “Well, I’m not offended.”

He smiles at you and you smile back, but you don’t know what to say. You’ve forgotten how to talk to people. You wait for him to say something and your (metaphorical) heart sinks with every second that he remains silent and fidgets with his hands instead. It would help if you could at least see his face.

You decide to just be honest. This conversation isn’t going anywhere else.

“I uh, I‘ve been in this house for a while and usually people um. They don‘t react nicely when they see me, so I mostly keep to myself. But then I saw you and I remembered seeing you on the news with the Avengers so if.. if you‘ve been with them then I assumed a ghost wouldn’t be the craziest thing you‘ve ever seen so uh..”

He hasn’t taken off his mask but you think you can see him smiling. It seems as if your explanation is enough for him to deem you harmless, as if he realised that you’re right, he has seen scarier things. What’s a ghost going to do to him?

“It‘s cold out here, do you wanna come in?” His words surprise you and you don’t remember the last time you smiled as widely as you do when he opens the window to his one-room apartment.

“I don’t have any feeling in my body so I can’t feel the cold but, uh, yeah. Thanks. I’ll come in.”

Maybe he just doesn’t value his life very much and that’s why he’s letting you, a stranger who is also a ghost, in his room. But maybe he just sees you. Maybe he sees that you just don’t want to be alone, and that you’re harmless.

You try not to overthink it too much. Maybe he’s just letting you in his room to try and kill you, but you feel good about him. So good that you almost forget you’re not a normal human with feelings who lives a normal human life.

He lets you in first but you float through the wall instead of ducking down to get through the window like he does behind you.

“Woah,” Spider-Man says, grinning. He looks you up and down, as if he’s just now noticing that you’re floating a few inches above the floor. You sit down to hover over his bed as he closes his window.

“So, are the movies about ghosts quite accurate then?” He turns around to ask you, and casually pulls his mask off - probably out of habit from when he comes home. He freezes for a second and then presses the mask over his face. He quickly turns away from you to slip it over his head again, mumbling something under his breath.

“I uh.. I’ve seen your face before but… it’s your choice of course.”

“Oh,” he says.

“I have no interest in exposing your identity,” you say, “It’s not like anyone would believe a ghost anyway,” you add sadly, looking down when you remember that this is not a normal, human, interaction.

“I don’t have much to do so I just like to people watch and uh, I’ve seen you in here with your mask off, so…” You explain, hoping he’ll trust you. Honesty is all you have.

When you look up, Spider-Man has pulled his mask off and smiles softly at you. You know he has no reason to trust you, doesn’t even owe it to you to talk to you. But he does it anyway, and he stretches his hand out, “I’m Peter, by the way.”

It’s nice to finally have a name for the boy from 7A. You reach for his hand out of instinct before you remember that you can’t take it. “Oh, uh, I can’t,” you say as you pull your hand back. 

He stares at you for a second before he seems to understand and pulls his arm back too, “Oh, sorry, sorry.”

“It’s okay. I forget it too sometimes.”

Peter looks at you curiously, curiously and nothing else, and you realise then that you forgot how it feels to have someone look at you without fear or hate. But you can tell he’s still getting used to talking to a ghost, so you try to start the conversation.

“The movies are quite accurate.”

“Huh?”

“You asked if the ghost movies are accurate. I think the most obvious things are true. You’re a floating nothing that can go through walls,” you chuckle, trying not to think of how shitty it feels to live your life that way.

He smiles and sits down on the bed with you, “Have you always been a ghost?”

The question makes your nonexistant heart ache and Peter must see it on your face, quickly adding, “You don’t have to talk about it, of course.”

“It’s okay,” you say. You take a deep breath and think for a moment. Then, you tell him your story.

You tell him how you were in a car crash with your family right when Thanos made half of the world’s population disappear. You turned into dust just as you were about to die. 

When you came back five years later, your family was dead. You always assumed you were just on the brink of death when Thanos snapped his fingers, and the universe couldn’t decide whether to let you live or not, so now you’re somewhere in between. But sometimes, you’d rather be dead. 

Peter has tears in his eyes by the time you’re done speaking. You can tell that he’s speechless, and you’re not expecting him to say anything. 

“Wow… I’m so sorry,” is all he says. 

“I try to see the positive side of things. At least I got another chance at life, not many people do. It’s not really like this life has been worth living but.. maybe I just haven’t figured out how to be a good ghost yet.”

You decide not to tell him how depressed you’ve really been. You haven’t ever talked about what happened, and this was hard enough to talk about. Although it does feel better, finally getting your story off your chest. You remember that you’re telling all your secrets to a stranger, but you already know his biggest secret too, so it’s fair.

“I know I’m not a ghost, so I’m not saying I understand but… I think I kind of understand.”

He tells you about his dead parents, then his dead aunt. He tells you about parallel universes and losing all of his friends. He tells you how everyone had to forget him. 

He keeps saying that he knows how crazy it sounds, but it really happened. You assure him that you don’t doubt a single thing he says. Who are you to decide what really happened and what didn’t, when you’re a literal ghost. 

He doesn’t tell you how depressed and lonely he is either, but it’s obvious. You assume it’s also obvious to him how sad you are. Maybe you don’t need to say it - you understand each other wordlessly. 

He’s careful to not sound like he’s implying that he fully understands you. He’s not a ghost, so of course he can’t. But at the core, you’re the same. You’re alone and you’re lonely. 

Yes, he has the chance to make new friends and you don’t, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re both lonely, both suffering. 

He’s choked up by the time he’s done talking and you don’t know he’s managed to not break down sobbing yet. 

You’re both quiet for a while after he’s finished talking. You can’t say anything to make it better, so you don’t try. You’re here, and that’s more than he’s had in a while. 

“Wow, you could have stopped me there,” Peter smiles awkwardly, “Look at me oversharing. Sorry.”

“You and me both,” you say, giving him a reassuring smile, “And it’s okay to cry, by the way. I wish I could.”

“You can’t cry?” He asks, his eyes red and wet, but he’s not crying yet. 

“I can’t. I feel things inside, I have feelings and emotions like everyone else. But there’s nothing physical. I don’t eat or sleep or cry. If you touch me I won’t feel it. You won’t either. It’s all just on the inside, and I have the urge to cry sometimes, but I just literally can’t. I’d give everything to cry again. So, please, cry. I can leave if you need time.”

“No no, no,” he wipes his tears away and smiles bashfully at being so eager. He has no idea that you’re even more eager to be spending time together. 

You get the feeling he needs the company as much as you do. He just told you how he lost everything. Your situations are so similar it‘s nearly scary. So if you need him, you know he needs you too. 

He asks more questions about you being a ghost - more light-hearted ones, and you happily answer them all. The soul-crushing loneliness aside, there are a few cool things about being a ghost.

You can go anywhere you want, without being seen. You don’t have to be scared of men when you’re out late at night, if anything, men would be scared of you. You may or may not have scared some creepy men on purpose before.

There’s one question Peter hasn’t asked yet, but you know he wants to. Instead of making him ask, you just ask him if he wants to touch you. He grins at your offer and you hold out your arm for him to touch it.

His hand goes right through you when he tries to touch you, and he’s as giddy as a child being told they can have some candy. You can tell that he thinks it’s cool.

You like that you’re making Peter smile and laugh and even talking to someone is making you happier than you’ve been in months. But deep down it also makes you sad. You can’t even touch Peter’s hand, let alone hug him, or hold him.

You try to ignore those thoughts though. Being with Peter is still better than all the months you’ve spent alone since you became a ghost.

You know it will make him laugh, so you reach right through his chest, your arm going right through him. And even though there’s still a general sadness within you, Peter is making you so happy right now. 

Even though you’re talking about being a ghost, and showing him how not-human you are, even though you’re a floating thing of light that doesn’t feel like it’s there, he makes you feel the most human emotion there is. It’s not love, you’ve only known him a few hours. But you just like him. Maybe you’re just emotionally starved, and you’d like anyone who would give you the time of day, but you can’t feel the difference.

You enjoy spending time with him. You get along well. And it’s making you feel like you could stay with him and talk with him forever. He’s making you feel like you actually have a heart. And your heart is telling you that Peter is a good soul, someone to keep in your life, who deserves all the happiness in the world.

He’s making you feel like a normal person, with normal human emotions. He’s making you forget about all the loss and the loneliness. And it’s all you’ve been asking for since you turned into a ghost.

Being with Peter is wonderful.

You talk through the whole night and it doesn’t even cross your mind that you won’t be able to talk to him forever. He doesn’t realise this either until the sun rises and the streets are bright again.

“Oh my god, it’s so late, well, early,” he looks at his phone, “Shit, I have to go to class like. Right now.”

You watch him pick up a few things and he stuffs them into his bag, sticking his toothbrush in his mouth while he gets ready.

“I uh, I’ll go then,” you call out to him while he’s getting ready. He’s stressed and you don’t want to add to it.

“Wait,” he stops you, “I need to see you again. Uh, I mean, do you want to hang out again later?”

You grin, “Yeah, I’d love to.”

He grins too, unable to look at you, “Okay, where will you be?”

“I’ll be at the fire escape when you come home. Same time as yesterday?”

“Yes. But you can also stay in here, just if you want to.”

“I might. Thanks. Now go and get ready and don’t worry about me.”

He’s gone two minutes later and you’re already looking forward to when he comes back. You go on a walk, the longest route you can think of, to distract yourself.

Peter comes home earlier than he said and seems surprised that you’re there.

“Hi,” you say, getting up from his bed and floating over to him. It’s not like you could hug him hello, but you still want to be close, “How was your day?”

“Hi, it was good, yeah. I’ll tell you later but I uh. Just… just so you know, I didn’t fully express how much I enjoyed last night. If I’m honest, while I was at work I thought maybe I just hallucinated you. Because you’re too good to be true because we just get on so well and also because I’ve never met a ghost before so I didn’t know if you were real,” you both laugh, “But now you’re here again and I‘m just so happy that we met. And that we got along so well and just.. yeah. I really need a friend.”

You don’t know what to say yet, so you just grin. You feel the same, even after one day. Sometimes time doesn’t mean a thing and you just recognise a good soul. Both of you did.

“I just really wish I could hug you right now,” you say, your voice sounds like you’re about to cry but you know it won’t happen.

“We can try,” Peter suggests quietly.

“Okay.”

You both take a step forward and put your arms around each other, but you don’t feel anything. It’s awkward for both of you and you leaned in to much so you’re half standing in Peter.

You decide not to do that again, but your heart breaks; you can’t even pretend to hug someone.

He tells you about his classes and work. He’s college age but after everything that happened to him and with everyone forgetting him, has to redo his general education test. You know he’s smart and doesn’t have to go to classes, but he says he wanted to make some friends there. He hasn’t so far because he’s still too sad and mostly keeps to himself, but he’ll get there eventually.

Even if he hasn’t made friends in class, he’s made a friend at his home. You will never be far.

Even though you don’t mean to, you start talking again for what feels like hours. Before it really becomes hours though, you tell him to go to sleep. He keeps interrupting himself with a yawn and the circles under his eyes are getting darker by the minute.

“I can’t sleep now. I wanna talk to you,” he says and your figurative heart swells.

“I’m not going anywhere. We can still talk tomorrow,” you smile. You reach out to caress his face but pull your hand back when you remember you can’t. You will never get used to it.

He smiles tiredly, “Okay. Will you stay here?” 

Before you can answer he adds, “It-it’s obviously okay if not.”

“I’ll stay.”

He sleeps on the left side of his twin bed even though you don’t need any room. You pretend to cuddle him while he sleeps but you’re always floating a few inches too far away from him or end up floating into him.

Becoming Peter’s friend has made you the happiest you’ve been since you became a ghost, but you’ve never been sadder to not be human. To not be able to touch him, to hold his hand, to hug him.

You go outside to float in front of his window, only to find Lucky meowing on the fire escape and you’re once again reminded that you can’t pet her and can’t show her love how you want to. You wonder why she stays with you. You can’t give her food, water or shelter, and not even cuddles.

You go back inside when you hear Peter mumbling something in his sleep. He’s told you about his nightmares and you’ll wake him up if he seems upset. But you think it’s just a normal dream, so you let him sleep.

Peter takes you to the movie theatre the next day while you make yourself invisible. You’ve always thought about doing stuff like this since you’ve had the ability to get into any place unnoticed, but you knew you’d see happy families and friends and couples and would have felt like an outsider. 

Now you’re not alone anymore.

“Did you have a bad dream last night? You were talking and moving a bit in your sleep.” You ask him while you walk home through dark empty alleys. You don’t have to make yourself invisible here and people won’t think he’s crazy talking to himself.

“Oh, I…” his cheeks turn red, “No, no. But I wanted to ask you something. Since you told me you just go watch people in our building sometimes. So do you, uh, do you see people having sex a lot?” He laughs shyly.

“I see more people masturbating. I never intentionally watch, but you’d be surprised just how many people do it before going to bed,” you throw him a pointed look and suddenly he seems to find the floor really interesting, “I’d never watch you on purpose, but you do it so much,” you laugh.

“Jeez, okay,” he puts his hands up in defense and looks away from you completely with an embarrassed grin.

You laugh and bump your shoulder against his, forgetting you can’t and walking through him for a second. You’re grateful he’s still not looking.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I wish I could do it. I mean, I can’t even touch myself.”

His eyes meet yours and he smiles, and his blush slowly disappears.

You can’t feel the temperature but just looking at Peter makes you cold. He could go as Rudolph for Halloween with a nose as red as that. All the trees have turned different shades of orange, red and yellow and you ask Peter to take you somewhere livelier where you can look at the change of the season in real time.

You’re invisible again when you get into the lit up streets with more people, but it’s like Peter can always tell where you are. You two don’t say much, but he smiles at you every now and then, and he’s looking right at you even though you know he can’t see you. But he can feel you. 

It makes you want to cry.

You stay out well into the night even though it’s too dark to appreciate the colour on the trees. But that doesn’t matter to you. You haven’t spent time more than a block away from Peter’s building in months. Now that you have someone else to go with, it’s all different.

You can’t help but think how much more beautiful it would all be if you were a human with an actual life. If you could have more friends. If you could go out and be seen and not have to worry about people freaking out or about being hunted down if someone sees you.

But for the moment you’re also happy that you have Peter. You always will be. Maybe it was meant to be. You both lost your life, in one way or another, and found each other.

You become best friends over the next few weeks. You knew it was going to happen from the first time you talked for hours, but having a friend is even nicer than you remembered. It feels like your life is worth living again.

You’re actually doing things these days. You have things to look forward to. You have someone to talk to, someone who sees you, someone who accepts you even though, from the outside, you’re just a bit of not-quite-invisible air.

Peter sees your soul, he sees you as a person, but nevertheless he loves you just how you are, no matter how much you hate the state you have to be in forever.

He told you he loves you so early it could be considered rushed, but you couldn’t deny that you feel it too. Maybe it’s all going faster because you’re both starved for love, and for human connection. And maybe that’s okay. You’ve found a true friendship with him, and it has saved both your lives.

You’re not living how you’d wish to, but now that you have Peter, at least you can consider your existence a life. You forgot how much joy other people can bring you, and you’re lucky that Peter turned out to be one of the good ones.

Even though your life has gotten more exciting, and you’re doing more, you probably still prefer being in Peter’s one-room-apartment, just being yourself and talking for hours. You’ve known each other for months now and it feels like you could talk for all the years to come.

When it’s just the two of you, you can just be you. You don’t have to make yourself invisible, and you can’t imagine how weird it must be for Peter to be best friends with a ghost, so you appreciate him even more. Deep down you’re as human as anyone else, but you look far from it.

There are times when Peter forgets. When you’re thinking of getting food, he asks what you want, then he quickly apologises when he realises that you can’t eat, but you’re never mad at him. You still forget it yourself. You forget it even more now.

But while you love your long talks with Peter, about the most profound things, and more often the most meaningless things, what’s special about him is that you don’t have to talk. You can just be. 

It’s not awkward when you’re both silent; it feels like the purest form of human connection. You just love him and he loves you. And he’s the best and most important friend you’ve ever had.

It’s not an ideal life, but for a ghost, it’s not too bad.

Peter is hesitant when he asks you to come to his job with him. You think it’s because he doesn’t want you to see what you’re missing out on - talking to people without them freaking out, having a normal life.

But you doubt you’ll be jealous of Peter having to work, plus you’ve always wondered what his workplace looks like. He started off working at a food place, but now he’s got a part-time office job that is less exhausting and pays better.

He says he doesn’t really have friends at his job, only a few colleagues that he’s friendly with, so you don’t think it will make you depressed again to see how he can talk to people when you can’t. You have Peter - a true friend - so why would you be jealous of some shallow and forced office friendships.

You’re just grateful you don’t have to sit around all day until Peter comes home. He’s taken you to class with him once, but you realised just how glad you are to be done with anything related to school and went home early.

He takes you to his work on a Friday, which he says is always the best day. Everyone’s happier because the weekend is close and Peter’s day ends a few hours earlier so he can take you to a street market around the corner after work. You won’t be able to buy anything, but you like looking. 

When you’re with Peter, you always enjoy yourself.

The office isn’t far from Peter’s place, so you walk there. You make yourself invisible the first time you see another person and prepare to stay like that all day. 

You’re excited to see where Peter spends hours nearly every day, but it’s nothing you didn’t expect. It’s simply an office. But he seems comfortable here and it makes you happy. 

You know he’s struggled with money all his life, especially now with no financial support from anyone. Knowing that he makes enough money here to pay for his apartment and maybe even a few nice things every now and then — and it’s not even a full time job — makes you happy for him.

He shouldn’t have to work a day in his life, or at least get paid for being Spider-Man, but there are worse jobs than this, and there are apartments more expensive than his, especially in New York. 

He jokes around with a few colleagues and once they’re gone he whispers their names to you. He’s told you about them before and it’s nice to finally put faces to the names. Peter smiles at you even though he can’t see you, but he’s looking right at you every time. 

You get bored after the first hour and Peter tells you to do what you want, and you want to go outside. 

You walk around a bit, observing people and the tiny moments of their life that you can witness. You wish you were like them. 

It starts raining and you rush down the stairs into a subway station. It always feels weird when you’re walking through the rain and you can’t feel any of the raindrops. 

You haven’t been at this station in ages - you had no reason to. You watch one train stop and go again, and suddenly you have the urge to go explore. You’ve never taken the time to notice what the underground tunnels look like - not on foot, anyway. 

You follow the next train from one station to the next, and you follow it for two more stations. It’s exhilarating how you’re on the tracks but the train can’t hurt you. You don’t have to be scared. 

You stop following the train as you take a right at a junction. A different train passes through you, and you walk through another station. At some point though, it’s all quiet. You realise that no train has passed you in twenty minutes, and you have no idea how far you’ve gone. 

Suddenly, you notice how dark it is. There are no lights at all except at the end of the tunnel, but it seems so far away. You turn around to go back. You know there is nothing to be scared of. If anyone’s here, they can’t see you, they can’t hurt you. 

Despite having no lungs, you feel out of breath as you rush back to where you came from - where you can see light. Your head snaps back when you hear something dripping behind you, then a few taps. 

You stop in your tracks - you can’t tell where the noise is coming from. You close your eyes and count how long you think it would take for a deep breath. 

When you open your eyes, the light is gone. It’s pitch black. You wish Peter was here to help you. How far from him are you? What if you won’t see him again? You don’t know how to get out of here. 

You remember you can float through anything, and you can just go upwards, and you’ll end on some New York street. But when you try, you’ve suddenly lost all sense of direction. It’s like you’re underwater, deep, and no matter how far up you float, you just won’t reach the surface. 

Not knowing what else to do, you keep going, anywhere. You’ll get back somehow, you have to. 

Then, a door appears in front of you, light coming from behind it. You touch the handle and before you open the door, you’re in a room, sitting on a pillow. 

You feel at home immediately. It’s like a spa for your brain. Comfy furniture and decorations, you can barely see the white of the walls. They’re covered in tapestry and spiritual ornaments. 

Suddenly, there’s a woman in front of you, sitting on the carpeted floor. She doesn’t look human, but she’s not a ghost like you either. You’re not sure if she’s even real. She’s ethereal. 

It crosses your mind for a second that you’ve overused your abilities as a ghost, and you’ve ended up in heaven after being hit by a subway train. Maybe God is sitting in front of you. 

When she opens her eyes, it feels like a privilege to look into them, but when she looks right back at you, you realise you never made yourself visible again. How can she see you?

She chuckles, and it’s like an angelic whisper. “Don’t worry, you’re still disguised. It’s just me who can see you like this. It’s okay, my darling. What are you here for?”

You take a few moments to answer. “I.. I didn’t come here for anything. I was just going for a walk and then ended up here. I don’t know how.”

The woman smiles. “That’s what they all say. But no one wanders down the subway tracks if they’re happy with their life. So, what can I do for you?”

“I don’t.. understand. Who are you?”

“There is nothing to understand. You’re overthinking it. Who I am is not important. Now tell me your biggest wish, currently.”

She smiled kindly as you try to process it. The more she looks at you, the more you trust her. Against your own wish to not expose your deepest desires in front of a stranger, you answer. “I want to be human again. I want to live a normal life. With other people. And I want to be able to cry, and to feel touch.”

“Ah,” she quietly laughs to herself, “I could have guessed that myself. You see, my love, what you need is a kiss from the one you love. And it will turn you back. But you get only one try, so choose wisely. Make sure it’s the right person.”

All of a sudden, you can’t help but laugh. You get what’s going on. You’ve ended up in the den of a crackhead or a homeless person who watched too many Disney films growing up. 

What are you doing, telling her about yourself?

She smiles at you warmly even after you laugh right in her face, and suddenly you feel bad. She might be out of her mind, but she seems kind. 

You open your mouth, but when you blink you’re standing in front of Peter’s office building. You look around a few times. Now you feel like you’re the one out of your mind. You stand there for what feels like a few minutes, confused as anything, a little scared too. 

You try to find an explanation and then remember that you’re a barely one year old ghost, and you probably still have a lot to learn. You hope it’s just that. 

You forget everything that just happened when you hear Peter’s voice. He’s helplessly fumbling with the straps of his backpack, looking left and right, calling out your name when the people passing are far enough away. You have no idea how long you’ve been gone. 

You go towards him and make yourself visible for a second, scaring him with a “Boo!”

He jumps and puts a hand on his chest. You become invisible again. “Oh my god, I thought I lost you. You were gone much longer than you said,” he whispers as people pass. 

“Sorry, I went exploring. I would have come home eventually though. I always will.”

You don’t want to scare him, so you don’t tell him what happened. You’re with him now, so you feel safe anyway. 

He smiles at you and you make your way back home together. Well, his home, you’re just a guest. 

He tells you what he did at work while you were gone and when he asks what you saw when you were out, you tell him you just followed a subway around. That’s why you were gone so long, you followed it for ages and had to go back all the way. 

You and Peter watch a film in the evening, but you’re not paying attention. You think back to your encounter with that woman - or whatever she was. 

Her words replay in your mind and you realise for the first time what she was actually telling you. 

A kiss from the one you love. 

Peter. 

She was telling you to kiss Peter. 

It’s like suddenly something clicks within you. 

You’re in love with him. 

You’re in love. With Peter.

He’s literally the only person you even have: he’s the one you love. 

It hasn’t occurred to you before that he’s more than a friend to you. Maybe you didn’t allow yourself to think it, because it would never work out.

But if that woman is right, you know it can work out. It all becomes as clear as glass. You’re in love with him.

You look at his face and you don’t know how you only saw a friend in him before. He laughs at the movie and the crinkles by his eyes become more prominent, and you just want to kiss them. 

His mouth is open in a wide grin as he looks at you and you stare at his lips until his grin fades after a while. “What?” He licks his lips, “Not funny? You said you liked the actor last time so I thought—”

“No. It’s not that. I’m just.. tired.”

“You’re tired? I didn’t know you could be tired.”

“Well uh, no, not tired. But. I don’t know. I just can’t focus on the film right now. Aren’t you tired? You’ve had a busy week,” you suggest. You want him to go to bed, so you can think in peace. 

“I am tired,” he smiles shyly, “I just didn’t want you to be bored. Didn’t wanna leave you alone for so long.”

It’s something he’s told you before. While he sleeps, you don’t. Sometimes you go out, but sometimes you stay in his apartment, right next to him. It’s weird when you spend so much time with him, but he’s asleep and it’s like he’s not actually there. 

But you tell him it’s okay, and twenty minutes later he’s snoring away while you float around in his room, thinking. 

You didn’t want to straight up tell him. You didn’t want to admit your crush, your love. It’s also a lot of pressure to tell him that he can turn you back into a human, fulfill your biggest dream, but only if he loves you back. 

If you tell him that you like him, and he rejects you, you’ll lose your only friend. So will he. You can’t do that to yourself or to him. 

But what about the woman? She seemed to know what she was talking about. She made you feel safe, once you decided to go along with the situation. 

You’re a floating ghost. You have no doubt that fortune tellers could be real.

Then again, it could have just been a homeless woman who was taking drugs in the dirty underground. You have no reason to believe her. You have no reason not to believe her either though.

Maybe you’re just going insane. You teleported to Peter right after. You didn’t know you could do that. Or maybe you‘ve been wrong all this time and ghosts don’t live forever. Maybe your mind is rotting, and maybe you’re dying. 

You sit down - you hover - next to Peter on the bed. He’s fast asleep, his hair all over the place. He’s curled up like a baby, and all you want to do is slip under the blanket with him and hold him.

You’ll decide that you’ll take the risk.

You won’t tell him that he could turn you human, but you’ll ask him for a kiss. If he rejects you you’ll… you don’t even want to think about how that would feel. But if he kisses you and you become human, you’ll be able to have a normal life again.

You’ll be able to kiss Peter, to hold his hand, to hug him. You’ll be able to make friends again, you’ll be able to cry, and actually feel the flutter of your heart when Peter smiles at you.

You’ve always trusted in your gut feeling, and in what’s in your heart. And right now you have hope in you. So you’ll trust in that.

By the time Peter wakes up, you’re sceptical again, and nervous. You’d much prefer to live a human life with Peter as your partner, but you couldn’t bare to ask Peter for a kiss, be rejected, and ruin your friendship. You’d be all alone again. You don’t want to risk that.

But you don’t want to be a ghost forever either - not if there’s another option.

You think for a few days, but you just can’t get the idea out of your head. You want to try it - you have to.

Peter has noticed that something’s off, and you don’t want to worry him any longer.

You’ve been trying to pay attention to how he treats you, how he looks at you - but you didn’t even realise you were in love for ages, so it’s even harder to realise if someone else is in love.

But, whether he’s in love with you or not, Peter is a kind soul. He won’t reject you in a mean way, or laugh at you if he doesn’t want to kiss you. It doesn’t mean that your friendship has to be ruined forever. 

And anyway, the woman said you need a kiss from the one you love. She never said anything about him loving you back, even though that is implied. She never said anything about romantic love either though, and one thing you are sure about is that Peter at least loves you as a friend.

Today is a day where Peter is being extra adorable. His smile, his hair, the look in his eyes. They’re all perfect. He’s perfect. You just want to kiss him, regardless of if it turns you into a human or not.

You’re in his room, watching a film, but you’re barely paying attention because you’re talking all the time. You wait for a moment where no one’s talking and you’re both watching the film. You ask him to pause it.

Before you can change your mind, you say it. 

“Peter, can you kiss me?” Your voice trembles at the end but his shy little smile gives you hope. He turns towards you, his cheeks turning red.

“I, I don’t know. Can I? I thought that wasn’t possible.”

“I know. But can you please try?”

“Oh. Okay.” He smiles softly and clears his throat, and then he leans in. He closes his eyes and so do you when you kiss him.

You briefly open your eyes again when nothing happens, to check if you’re close enough. 

You are close enough to kiss him.

You close your eyes again and try to think of how badly you want to turn human again. Maybe you need to convince whoever is responsible for turning you back. A whine slips past your lips when nothing happens.

Peter pulls away and you open your eyes. You look down at yourself.

Still a ghost.

Nothing has changed.

“I have to go.” You don’t even look at him as you get up and leave. 

Peter follows you, “No, wait. Wait.”

You make yourself invisible and he stops in his tracks. You stay there - Peter is your safe place, you have nowhere else to go. Peter calls out for you a few times, turning to see if he can find you. He usually can, it’s like he can just feel you, maybe it’s to do with his spidey senses. But this time, while he’s panicking, he can’t calm down to feel where you are.

You leave when a neighbour comes to curse at Peter for being so loud. 

You hide in the cellar, where no one bothers you. You’ve never wanted to cry more than now, but you just can’t. The sensation, the urge to cry, is there, but you have no tears.

It was stupid to even think you could kiss him. You thought you’d turn into a solid human once your lips touched. All you did was make it awkward for both of you.

And you can’t believe you were dumb enough to believe that woman. You feel pathetic for letting yourself feel so much hope, all because of what a stranger on drugs said to you.

Or maybe that woman told you the truth. Maybe the woman was right, and Peter just doesn’t love you. Realising that hurts more than knowing you’ll be alone and a ghost forever.

You don’t think you can ever look Peter in the eyes again. You hate to take away the only friend he has, but after putting so much hope in him and being disappointed - you can’t just be his friend. It was unfair of you to expect him to be in love with you, but it didn’t stop you from doing it.

After staying in the basement a day and a night, and trying but failing to cry, you realise something. If the woman was right, and there is a way for you to get your life back, and the issue was just Peter’s feelings for you, or rather the lack thereof, she should also know how to end your life.

Turning back into a human would revive you, and make your existence into a life that is worth living. If she knows how to do that, she might know you can stop existing altogether. If you can’t find love, what’s the point of being here?

You’ll go along the subway tracks again, and hopefully you’ll find her.

But, even though you don’t want to see him again, you want to say goodbye to Peter. See him one last time. It’s early, so you hope he’s still asleep.

You make your way up to his floor, floating past all of the windows below his. It’s cold and it’s raining, and the sun isn’t quite up yet. You can only just see Peter through his fogged up window.

He’s asleep, but the covers are on the floor, and he’s wearing the same clothes he wore when you last saw him. You hope he’s not too sad. You know he can make other friends. Maybe even meet someone he can fall in love with. You think he’ll be okay.

You curse when a raindrop hits you right in the eye, and the noise you make wakes Peter up. You freeze when he looks right at you and gets out of bed.

“You’re back,” he beams, but you see the dark circles under his eyes.

You look down at yourself and realise you forgot to make yourself invisible. You try, it’s like an instinct at this point - you usually think about it and you become invisible. But nothing happens.

You go through Peter’s window and meet him on the other side. You haven’t seen him in a day, and you already missed being so close to him. God, not being able to hug him will be the death of you.

Peter starts stuttering about how worried he was and how glad he is to see you, meanwhile you’re still trying to make yourself invisible. Finally, you stop him. “You can see me?”

“Oh, uh,” he frowns, “Yeah?”

That’s when you realise. “Wait. Peter. Oh my god. I just felt a raindrop in my eye, when I was outside. There was a raindrop in my eye! And my back has been hurting all night, Peter. My back hurts!”

“I didn’t know your back could hurt.”

“It couldn’t, but now it does. I was sitting down in your basement for like a whole day. And now my back hurt. And I can’t make myself invisible anymore,” you’re nearly shouting now.

Peter looks at you for a few seconds as he processes what you’re saying, “Wait. Are you…”

“I think I am.”

You try to grab his hands in excitement but it doesn’t work. “Oh. And wait, I just floated right through your window. Maybe I… maybe I imagined feeling the raindrop.” You look down as your smile turns into a frown. You’ve once again let yourself get too hopeful about something you’re not sure was even real.

“Try again,” Peter says, folding his arms in front of him, “Try walking through my door.”

“What?” You ask, annoyed.

“Try to go through my door like you always do.” He turns towards his door and you sigh. You float right through the door and come back. Still a ghost. You just want to go back into the basement - you don’t even have enough energy to try and find the subway woman anymore.

“Again,” Peter says. You stare at him and he stares back until you turn around to pathetically float through his door a few times. He tells you to do it again and again but you’ve had enough. You try to float back into his apartment again but you crash against the door with a bang.

Peter comes running and opens the door, “Oh my god, are you okay?”

You don’t answer him - you have no words. You look down at yourself - still a ghost - but you just felt something you haven’t felt in years. You just touched that door, and you felt it in your whole body.

Peter has tears in his eyes now and you look at him, “Peter, what does this mean? Oh my god.”

“I don’t know. Try again,” he says.

You float right through his door about ten times until you bang against it again. This time Peter sees you, and he’s speechless for a few seconds.

“You just- I just- I saw you. As a human. It’s like you flickered to life for a second and you – you weren’t a ghost anymore,” he looks at you completely in awe and it’s like you can feel your heartbeat. You look at your body, and it’s still transparent - there’s no heart inside of you - but you’re hopeful now. And it finally feels like you actually have a reason to be.

“So- so what, should I just walk through your door over and over again until I become solid?”

“Maybe, I don’t know. I don’t think we should force it. Maybe your atoms are still learning how to be atoms again.”

You squint at him, “Thought you were supposed to be good at physics. That doesn’t sound very scientific.”

“I don’t know how much of this is science and how much is.. magic. I don’t know. Maybe we just need to be patient.”

“I can’t be patient.”

“I know, neither can I. But you’ll just hurt yourself by banging against a door ten times. Let’s just sit it out and distract ourselves and wait and see.”

He closes the door and sits on his bed, his eyes never leaving you. You blink at him. 

“Peter. I can’t just sit with you here pretending that everything is fine between us and like this doesn’t determine my whole entire being and my life, and my relationship with the only living person I love.”

He looks at you in confusion, “Why does it determine our relationship?”

“You won’t want to be with me if I keep being a ghost.”

“What? Why not?”

“Are you kidding me? You can’t even kiss me. You won’t ever be able to take me on a date anywhere. I can’t even exist except in this apartment.”

“I don’t care as long as we’re together. And I won’t lie, or course it sucks that I can’t kiss you. And that I can’t hug you. But I don’t love you for physical things. I love you for who you are. I love you for things that go beyond flesh and bones and biologically being a human. Who cares about that? I’m in love with who you are in your soul, not your body.”

You can’t believe what he’s telling you. “You’d want to be with me even if I stayed a ghost?”

“Of course. Without a doubt. You think I would have fallen in love with you if it was a dealbreaker for me that you don’t have a physical body?”

That’s when you suddenly realise that you’ve just confessed your feelings for him. And he feels the same. 

“You’re in love with me?” You feel your whole body flickering for a second, and from Peter’s face you can tell he saw it too. 

“Oh my god,” you gasp, and you both take a step towards each other. The fact that you’re turning back into a human means the woman was right. She was real and she was telling you the truth. You found the right person and kissed him, and now you’re going to be human again. 

You can’t believe it. Well, you’re still a ghost but you don’t know what else this would be.

“I’m so in love with you too,” you confess, and you’re grinning at each other so much you could cry. Maybe soon you’ll actually be able to. You can’t wait to cry again.

“Mmmmmh Peter, you better have some good distractions.”

You decide you shouldn’t go outside since you can’t make yourself invisible anymore, so you watch some movies, but you’re both too giddy to pay attention for even a single second.

By evening, you’re still a ghost, and while your hope isn’t gone, you’re starting to overthink. “What if it doesn’t work? What if I’m just imagining things because I’m hopeful? Or what if this is a weird stage between ghost and human that I’m trapped in now? And-and what if that woman was just lying to me, what if she’s cursed me or if she was a crazy woman and I’ve put my whole hope and trust in her and believed that it could turn my whole life around?”

“Wait, what woman?” Peter asks.

Oh. You weren’t going to tell him until this whole turning into a human thing has been sorted. Knowing that Peter loves you back is the only thing that matters, you thought the details could wait.

“Do you remember when you took me to your office a few weeks ago, and I disappeared for a bit? I met this woman, I don’t know if she was a human or a ghost or what, but she seemed so trustworthy and angelic, and she told me… she asked me what my biggest wish was, and I told her I want to be human again. She said I need to kiss the one I love and it will turn me back.”

His gaze turns soft and then excited. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have kissed you right then and there and you could be a human by now. Why are you still doubting that this is working? Oh my god. And I’m the one you chose. I love you.” He runs a hand through his hair and leans in to touch you, but pulls back when he realises he can’t. Not yet. But soon.

You giggle, “I love you too. But I was scared you didn’t feel the same. And I didn’t want to ruin the friendship we have. That’s why I ran away after we kissed. I thought I’d messed everything up. And I wasn’t even sure if that woman was real, so I doubted that you’d believe me.”

“Of course I would have believed you,” he smiles.

“And also… I was scared that it wouldn’t work. And we still don’t know if it worked. I mean, look at me.” You try to take his hand but your hand goes right through his.

“It will work. But you’ve been a ghost for a while now, it will take some time.”

“What if it doesn’t work?”

“Then we’ll find a different way. I promise. And even if not, I’ll make your life worth living. Even as a ghost. I think in the end we’re all just ghosts. Some of us have flesh bodies with gross organs inside. Some of us are just a beautiful floating soul like you.”

You smile and lean in, trying to touch him again. It doesn’t work, but now that you know he loves you either way, it doesn’t matter as much. You’d still prefer a human life though.

You wake up late the next morning. All the excitement must have tired you out eventually. You turn around and see Peter still sleeping, a smile on his face. 

You stare at him for a bit. At his toned biceps and the rest of his arm, all the way down to his hand that’s resting on your hip.

His hand. That is resting. On your hip. 

You jump up when you look at your legs and they’re actual legs. You’re lying down in Peter’s bed. You’re not floating anymore. And you just woke up. You slept.

You’re human.

All your moving around wakes Peter up and he’s confused for the first few moments, his brain taking a while to start working.

“Peter, I have a flesh body with gross organs inside!” You sit up and jump around on the bed, waiting for him to fully wake up so you can finally finally kiss him.

His eyes go wide when he takes in your body, your human self, and he almost lunges forward to wrap his arms around you and meet your lips in a bruising kiss. You pull him as close to you as you can, pressing your lips against his, and you start to cry. You can’t believe that it’s actually happened. That you’re actually kissing Peter.

You want to kiss him for the rest of your life, but you haven’t touched anything in over a year, so feeling your body for the first time in a long time, being kissed and crying at the same time is a little overwhelming. 

When you place your hand on Peter’s chest, he immediately understands what you’re asking and he pushes himself off of you, only hovering above you. His eyes are filled with tears and one of them rolls down his face and lands on your chin, and he wipes it away quickly. “Sorry,” he says quietly.

“It’s okay.” You don’t wipe away your own tears, you want to feel them on your face. The tears feel even more magical than a kiss turning you from a ghost into a human. “Peter,” you take his face between your hands and cup his cheeks, “Look. I have real tears on my face! And I can feel them., I missed them so so much.”

Peter cries with you and turns his face to kiss your hand. “You’re so beautiful. I mean, you were beautiful before but, god. It’s like I’m seeing you for the first time. Really seeing you.”

You’re about to respond when your stomach growls loudly and you both look down at it. 

“You must be hungry,” Peter says, getting off of you and walking to the kitchen area, “I can, I think I can make some pancakes. Or just toast? I don’t know if your stomach will have to get used to food again first.”

You sit up and stare at him for a bit. He’s so gorgeous. You’re so glad you met him.

“I want to shower first. Haven’t showered in like a year,” you laugh, walking over to him. Peter lifts your arm and shoves his nose against your armpit, “You smell fine. You smell lovely, actually.” You scream and you giggle as you run away from him through his small but cozy apartment. If you’re honest, it smells a lot better than what you expected of such an old building. You’ve grown so fond of it, although that’s mostly because of Peter.

“Shit,” you realise, “I have to get a job now. And buy food and clothes and pay rent and find a place to live. I wanna be a ghost again,” you joke, but Peter takes your hand and gently pulls you towards him.

“I won’t let that happen. Just stay here. For now, or forever if you want. And I’ll make sure to feed you, you don’t have to worry about a thing.”

You step closer to him and grin against his face. You can see he wants to kiss you, but isn’t sure if he can in case it’s overwhelming. You give him a short kiss and ask him if you can shower. He tells you you can do whatever you want and to tell him if you need anything - including alone time without him. But for now, you just need a shower.

When you come out of the bathroom, Peter has bought new clothes for you. You’re in the clothes you died in, so you’d rather wear anything else, but the clothes Peter bought are quite nice and fit perfectly. He says he just ran to that thrift store around the corner and got you loads of clothes for less than twenty dollars. You always wanted to go there with him. Now you can. 

You can do whatever you want with Peter, wherever you want. You can meet new people and make new friends. And you can live a human life. 

Peter makes breakfast for you and you spend the rest of the day lying in bed with him, occasionally holding hands or kissing for a second, but making out or even cuddling is still overstimulating. You know you’ll get there soon and you can’t wait until you do so you can physically show Peter just how much you love him, but for now being brought back to life is already making you feel enough things. 

You nearly forget that you have to sleep again now. That’s until you yawn and you realise how exhausted you are. Peter tells you to go to sleep and he’ll look after you. 

You fall asleep holding his hand. 

The next day, Peter has to go back to work, so you spend some time alone. 

You touch yourself all over your body, just feeling yourself. 

You’re much more used to touch now than you were yesterday, so your hand sneaks down between your thighs, giving yourself the best orgasm of your life. 

It’s just you and your body, making love to yourself.

You go for a long walk, enjoying every aspect of it. You don’t have a winter coat so you just take a blanket with you. You hardly even stand out for New York’s standards. 

The colourful leaves have all fallen by now and you missed being able to step on the crunchy ones. You missed feeling the wind on your face and how your nose gets all cold in the late autumn air. 

You kiss Peter for longer than ever before when he comes home from work, and then you hug him for about ten minutes. And then you kiss him again. 

He takes you grocery shopping so he can cook you your favourite meals and he can learn what you like. 

You’re in the fruit aisle, asking him which apples to get, and you realise he’s not listening to you, just staring. “What?“ You start grinning at his lovesick expression. 

“Nothing. I just love you so much. I mean, look at you.” He twirls you around and doesn’t let go of your hand, “You’re so.. alive,” you both laugh, but you know what he means, “You’re so vibrant. And full of life. You were beautiful before but now? Wow. Like. Oh my fucking god.”

You let him stare and just get the apples that look the best to you. 

You’re walking through the streets hand-in-hand a while later. You’re on your way home, enjoying life and enjoying that you can touch Peter and that you can walk outside without having to make yourself invisible. 

“The one thing I didn’t miss is how bad this city smells sometimes,” you scrunch up your nose and Peter kisses it. You chase the smell of him when he pulls back, burying your nose against his neck, humming, “Mmh, you smell good though.”

“You smell better,” he grins and kisses your lips, his cold, red nose brushing up against your cheek. 

While Peter unlocks the front door to your building, you hear an unmistakable meow from behind you. Lucky. You haven’t seen her in weeks. You were worried something happened to her. 

You crouch down in front of her, reaching out your hand. She immediately pushes her head against your palm, asking  you to pet her. 

You don’t know how - because you didn’t have a smell when you were a ghost - but she recognises you. She knows you. And you finally get to feel her soft fur and make her purr for as long as she wants to. 

You don’t dare ask Peter - it’s technically only his apartment and you don’t even know if pets are allowed in the building. “Just take her,” he playfully rolls his eyes and holds the door open for you and Lucky. You’ll let her go out whenever she wants, but if she can’t be bothered catching mice or needs a warm place to stay or to get a cuddle, you want to be there for her. She got you through some rough times. 

You and Peter end up cooking together - it’s much more fun like that. Lucky is snoring on your bed, but she’s on Peter’s side, so you leave her there. Lucky stays out most of the time, but you see her every few days, and always welcome her in. 

You get yourself a pretty winter coat in a small shop not far from your and Peter’s place, and you notice a sign saying they’re hiring. The manager is beyond kind and it’s only a few hours a week, and you get the job. You don’t really need it while you’re living with Peter in his apartment, but you need something to do and now you and Peter really don’t have to worry about paying rent each month. 

You pick Peter up from work that day in your new, pretty coat and it starts snowing. It’s the first snow of the year. Peter tells you how sad and depressed he was last winter and how happy he is now. You tell him how sad and depressed you were last winter and how happy you are now. 

You were both so lonely. So lost. With an existence you could barely call a life. And you found each other, and it changed everything. He’s your person. And you’re his. 

Peter takes you to meet some colleagues outside of work for the first time and you invite a neighbour you were talking to the other day in your building’s laundry room. You can already see her becoming a new friend, and afterwards Peter tells you how well he gets along with one of his colleagues. It’s a good day. 

By now, you’re completely used to all touch and sensation. You can kiss Peter for as long as you want without feeling overwhelmed, and you keep wanting more and more. 

Your watching a film one Friday night turns into nothing but kissing. Kissing kissing kissing. It’s not enough though, and you pull Peter’s hoodie off over his head. 

“I need you,” you softly say into his ear and he grins. 

“You sure?”

“I’m so sure, Peter, please.” You’ve been thinking about having sex with Peter for months now, so now that you’re finally ready, you’re ready. 

He smiles at you and leans down to kiss your neck, his hand slipping under the hem of your shirt, fingers slowly sliding up your belly. 

It’s torture how light his touch is, so you pull off the shirt you’re wearing, leaving you only in your panties. 

Peter licks his lips as he looks at you and slowly lowers his face to your chest, kissing between your breasts and then gently taking one of your nipples into his mouth. 

You grab onto his hair and sigh in pleasure, his hands making their way up your sides, but soon you’re hungry for more. Your fingers glide down his chest, past his abs, and find his hard cock beneath his sweatpants. 

He stops what he’s doing and moans, pressing his head against your shoulder as you begin to tease him with featherlight touch over his briefs. “Fuck,” he groans, lifting his head to look into your eyes.

The pleasure written all over his features makes you stop what you’re doing. You lift your legs to push your panties down your legs. You’re trying to get Peter’s pants off too but he sits up to spread your legs and sit between them.

Your cheeks heat up as he spreads your lips to look at your pussy, and he shyly tells you how pretty you are. You can feel his breath on your skin and you’re getting wetter by the second. 

“Is this okay?” He asks, pressing his lips against your inner thighs with a wet mouth.

“Yes, fuck, more than okay.” 

Then his mouth is finally on your clit, and you gasp when you first feel his wet tongue on your pussy. You tell him what to do and he quickly gets the hang of it, his eyes focussing on your face to see what you like most.

He slowly and gently plays with your pussy until you cum all over his face with a cry of his name, and then he doesn’t stop until you cum another time. By your second orgasm, you’re grabbing his hair and grinding your pussy against his face, begging him to get inside of you.

He stands up to get the condom but when you see the bulge in his sweatpants, you want him in your mouth.

You sit up to kneel at the edge of the bed, next to where he’s standing. You touch him over his pants and look up at him with angel eyes. “Can I?”

“Fuck. Of course.” He drops the condoms when you pull down his sweats and wrap your hand around his hard cock.

You’re looking up at him as you take your time with him, tracing his length with wet lips, gently licking his balls, and then you wrap your lips around the head of his cock. You take him deeper each time, slowly moving your head up and down, your spit dripping down him. 

He opens his mouth, and nothing but a desperate moan comes out, making you suck his dick faster. You grab his thigh to steady yourself, hollowing your cheeks every time you take him deeper into your mouth.

Seeing him all worked up, gasping and moaning, is making you so wet and desperate, but you can’t stop - you don’t want to. You can hear how close he is by how short his breaths are and how broken his voice sounds.

“Fuck– fuck,” he groans, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, and then he puts a hand on your cheek, making you stop.

“I wanna be inside of you now. I need to–” he takes off his pants and puts on the condom while you lie back down, spreading your legs. Peter stops when he gets back on the bed and presses a kiss onto your clit, taking a second to taste you again.

“Peter…” your whimper, making his head snap towards your face.

“Okay, yes, okay,” he quickly positions himself between your legs, lining himself up with you, “You sure?”

“Yes, oh my god, Peter. Just fuck me.”

He grins and kisses you as he slowly pushes into you. You wrap your arms around him and hold him as close to you as you can. You stop kissing him back - you feel too good to do anything.

All the desperation is gone, it’s just you and him now, taking your time. The rest of the world doesn’t exist. Only Peter does.

He looks into your eyes as he thrusts into you, as deep as he can, and you wrap your legs around his waist, so you’re spread out even more for him. “I love you,” he breathes.

“I love you,” you say, pulling him even closer. You search for his hand and he brings it up to your face. You open your mouth so he can push a finger past your lips, and you hum as you suck his finger into your mouth. The only sounds you can hear are Peter’s breaths, him sliding into your wet pussy, and your wet lips around his finger.

You’re still looking right into his eyes, and he doesn’t look away. You chase his finger with your mouth when he pulls it away, but he quickly soothes you with a deep kiss.

“You wanna cum for me?” He asks, bringing his thumb between your legs to rub your clit. He’s holding himself up with his forearm, still fucking you while he touches your clit.

You never knew how strong he was. But now that he’s on top of you, so desperate and so close, his big biceps right next to your face, he’s still doing everything he can to make you feel good - no weakness in sight.

You feel your orgasm approaching, and press your lips against his. “Fuck, so good for me, so pretty,” he whispers against your mouth, keeping the rhythm steady against your clit.

The waves of your orgasm flood you with pleasure and spread through your whole body. You arch up into him, pressing your chest against his. Your pussy squeezes him so tight that he cums with you, moaning into your mouth, short thrusts into your pussy until you’re both coming down from your highs.

You stay wrapped in each other for a while, his forehead pressed against yours. You’re breathing each other, pressing kisses onto each other’s faces.

“I love you,” he says, still out of breath.

You grin at him and put your hand on his cheek as you kiss him, “I love you too.”

You’re walking down the streets of a holiday-themed market a few weeks later, a hot drink in one hand, your other one intertwined with Peter’s, snowflakes flying through the air.

He’s showing you a cute holiday bauble when you see the reflection of someone you know in it. Your quickly turn around and then you see the woman. The woman who told you how to become human. 

She’s standing far away, but you can see her clearly. She smiles at you and you beam back at her. You want to walk towards her to thank her, but something tells you to stay right where you are. 

“I knew you’d make the right choice,” she smiles warmly, and then she vanishes into thin air. You grin. 

You look at Peter and his adorable face for a few seconds. Then you grab him to kiss him, and he kisses you back with so much love. 

She’s right. You made the right choice. 

☆.｡.:*support a writer and reblog or send an ask if you enjoyed, it helps out a lot.｡.:*☆

#peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker x you #peter parker friends to lovers #ghost!reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker #Spiderman smut #Spiderman x reader #fem!reader #tom holland #peter parker halloween fic #halloween

[lionlena]

Dancing With Your Ghost (JavierPeñaxghost!reader) Part I

Summary: You are a ghost (sort of) and you don't remember what happened to you. You only know your name and you feel that something bad has happened to you. The only person who sees you and hears you is Javier, so you don't leave him because you believe he'll help you. That he will solve the mystery of what happened to you.

Warnigs: the reader is a ghost, mentions of death, angst, later chapters will also include descriptions of severe wounds, blood... And also sadness, anxiety, little smut but later

A/N: Title inspired by this song

Part I

Javier entered his apartment with the red-haired woman glued to his side. The prostitute showered his neck with kisses. He glanced at the couch and sighed dramatically, "What's wrong, handsome?" she moaned right into his ear. Javier muttered, "Nothing, it's nothing."

You snorted and shot him an offended look: "Am I nothing?"

You were sitting on the couch with your legs crossed and you weren't going to move. Javier clenched his jaw and waved at you. You laughed and repeated his gesture: "Seriously, is that how you chase away ghosts?"

"Disappear," he hissed softly. You stuck your tongue out at him and replied, "I'm not going to."

At that time, the redhead looked at him in surprise: "What did you say?"

"That my desire for sex has disappeared," he muttered, looking at you resignedly. He already knew how stubborn you were.

The prostitute pouted in displeasure and grabbed his belt.

"I'm sure I can help with that."

You giggled and said, "She's relentless."

Javier slightly pushed her away and shook his head, "I'm sorry, honey, I can do nothing about that." Before the woman could say anything, he pulled out his wallet and took out the money. "Don't worry, I'll pay you anyway."

The woman sighed heavily: "Too bad, you seem nice." She took the money from him and pecked him on the cheek. "If you change your mind, you have my phone number." Javier nodded. "Alright, goodbye handsome."

As soon as the door closed, you said.

"Awww, you're so nice. I'm sure most guys would kick her out without paying."

Javier turned to you and placed his hands on his hips.

"Has anything changed since this morning?" He looked at you searchingly. "Did you remember your last name? Where are you from? How did you die? Where did you die? When did you die? What did the killer look like?" He barked out questions at a rapid pace, and you shook your head at each one. "In conclusion, nothing has changed!" he growled. "So you could have waited until, you know."

You raised your eyebrows.

"I wanted to mobilize you. And... I honestly think that you can do better. You are handsome, intelligent, nice, you could pick up any woman."

He snorted and took a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. He rubbed his forehead with his thumb and gasped, "And again we're talking about me instead of you." He sat back in his chair, spreading his legs wide and exhaling smoke slowly. At times like this, you really wished you could touch him. You would be sitting on his lap and kissing his beautiful long neck. "Did you think that maybe I'd work better if I got rid of the sexual tension?" His words brought you back to reality.

You snorted and shrugged, "You've got a shower and a hand for that."

You saw his eyes darken and he raised his eyebrows. After a moment, he let out a long moan of annoyance, and you giggled slightly. You liked teasing him.

"What? Are you about to say again that maybe I deserved to die?"

He shook his head and dropped his shoulders. "I already apologized for that," he said sadly.

You frowned. You didn't expect such a reaction. You thought he was going to say something sarcastic. "It's okay, I didn't mean to make you feel guilty."

He looked at you. "I looked through the missing person's database when I had a moment. No one matches you."

You felt a surge of sadness and bit your lip. "Maybe no one is looking for me because I wasn't important to anyone."

Javier shook his head and leaned towards you. "I don't believe it. Maybe you can be annoying." He looked at you suggestively. "But you're also kind and sweet. I'm sure you had someone who loved you and would look for you.”

You got up from the couch. "Yeah, sure. Don't you think I would remember that person?" Javier shrugged and you headed for the door. You looked at him again. "You should lie down, you look tired, but... I'll be walking around the city, so if you want, call a girl. I won't bother you."

Javier waved his hand and before he thought about that he said, "Take care of yourself."

You looked at him with an unspoken "Seriously?", but then you smiled slightly and nodded your head. It was even cute that he went from "you're not real, I'm delusional" to "I'm worried about you because I forget you're a ghost."

As usual, you went through the door of his apartment, then the main door, and found yourself on the streets of Colombia. It was one of the few pluses of this lousy situation. You were free to roam the streets. Enjoy the hidden beauty of the city.

Maybe Javier was a little plus in the situation, too. You didn't remember if you had anyone. Boyfriend, fiancé, husband... But you wish they were as handsome as Javi and sensitive. Yes, Agent Peña had a good heart. No matter how hard he tried to hide it. You see that. He did these little things for you, left the TV on when he went to work, even though you could turn it on yourself, thanks to this strange ability to control electricity. And he talked to you. Not only about your weird condition. But also about ordinary things.

*

After you were gone, Javier poured himself a glass of whiskey and sat down on the couch. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily. Then he laughed at his own stupidity. He expected that to be the case when he went back to the apartment with the prostitute. He could just go to some brothel and spend the night there. Then the risk of you showing up would be much less, and yet... In some twisted way, he was hoping you would show up and he'd have to send the girl away. He groaned in frustration. He really was abnormal. How was he supposed to explain to you that not being able to touch you was driving him crazy. "Fuck," he hissed. "Come to your senses, Peña. The girl is dead."

Contrary to what you might think, he really wanted to get the motherfucker who killed someone like you. But he was an agent, he needed facts... Even the place of your death would be a success, and he had nothing.

He tilted his head back and closed his eyes. He remembered the first time he saw you.

*

( flashback )

4 weeks earlier

Maybe chasing Velásquez downtown at noon wasn't the smartest decision he made. But what was he supposed to do? They tracked him down, and this was their chance. So he gave permission for the chase and jumped into the car driven by Chris. They were speeding through the city streets like crazy, and he had to admit Feistl was driving really well, but they were out of luck. They ended up causing a few car collisions, their own car was blocked by a truck and they had to brake hard. Javier jumped out of the car, leaning forward and resting his hands on his knees. 

"Fuck," he gasped. "Fuck! Fuuuuck!!!"  

"Boss..." Daniel started walking towards him.  

He waved his hand and muttered, "Not now. I need to cool down."  

He started walking forward ignoring the people who were staring at him and then he saw you. You were standing in the middle of the street screaming "Help! Can someone help me?! Please..." His heart beat harder. He hated seeing defenseless women, and that's what you looked like. You were desperate and worst of all, no one was paying attention to you. He immediately felt obligated to offer you help. He straightened up and started walking towards you. 

"Miss, what happened?"  

You looked at him with wide eyes. "You see me?"  

Your question surprised him and he nodded. He took another step towards you and then it happened. A cyclist has passed through your body. Literally, it penetrated your body. Javier jumped back: "What the fuck?!" You put your hands up and started walking towards him: "I know what it looks like, but... Only you can see me, please... I think I died." You had tears in your eyes, but Javier just shook his head, turned around, and started walking away. "Wait!" You tried to grab his hand, but it didn't work like it didn't with other people.

Javier was walking briskly towards his agents. He waved his hand at Daniel and as the taller man approached him he asked, "Did I hit my head?"  

"What?"  

"Do I have a wound on the back of my head? Do you see anything?!"  

Daniel shook his head, "No, boss."  

Javier looked behind him, and of course, you were still standing there. He started massaging his temples.  

"Are you a policeman?" you asked as you noticed police cars gathering around. And he had a gun in his belt and the man he was talking to was wearing a bulletproof vest. Of course, he didn't answer you, but you were sure he heard you. "Please help me. I don't know who I am or what happened. And only you can see and hear me." 

You saw him swallow nervously. You suspected you'd act the same way too. It's unusual to see ghosts. You sighed heavily and stood next to him. You weren't going to leave him. You felt he was your only chance. So when he got in the car, you sat in the back. You saw him occasionally glance in the rearview mirror, but he pressed his lips into a thin line and said nothing. When he went to his apartment, you followed him. You saw him take his headache pills. He finally spoke up, but he wasn't looking at you.  

"I'll go to sleep and when I wake up you'll be gone. You're just a delusion," he murmured.  

You watched as he lay down on the couch. He closed his eyes and began to breathe deeply. You were still standing in the middle of his living room. 

 "I really feel like something bad happened to me," you whispered.  

He opened his eyes and looked at you up and down. He opened his mouth as if to say something but closed it finally and turned his back to you.  

You sat on the floor and started crying. Your tears falling on the carpet left no trace as if they didn't exist. You felt so lost. You only remembered your name, nothing else. You didn't know where you were from or what happened. You just had this weird feeling that you had died and that it was someone else's fault. So you assumed you were murdered. And then you made a decision. You won't give up until this man believes you exist and helps you.

 *

Part II

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal characters #javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x you #narcos #ghost!reader #angst #but also humor #hurt/comfort

[cursingtoji]

okay so list of people that would be able to see ghost!reader and why

gojo: he can see everything cursed energy related so she wouldn’t be able to hide from his sight even if she tried cause it’s essentially geto’s energy keeping her here

mahito: he has the soul manipulation technique so he can see her but can’t touch her (geto wouldn’t let him)

nanami: he has a strong eye for cursed energy residuals, probably wouldn’t see right away but give him a few seconds

edit

mei mei: through her crows since spiritually crows are messengers between the living and the dead

#— chatting break 💬 #ghost!reader #cult leader!geto

[ronearoundblindly]

'Phantom Pleasure' Masterlist

Johnny Storm x ghost!Reader

When playboy Johnny finds out his new home is haunted, he's half-scared, half-intrigued. You laugh at his jokes and put up with his awful behavior, but since you can't leave, that shouldn't surprise him. After a while, Johnny needs more. He needs to see you, and he needs to know how you died, who you were, and why you're there. How can he get answers if you don't remember? How can he be with you if you still don't exist?

Romance 🔥 || Smut 🦆 || Angst ⛈ || Fluff 🌼 || Dark Fic 🌘

Warnings listed at the beginning of each part. Please read all warnings carefully and do not read if those subjects upset you.

Land-Locked Air-Tight Well-Suited

Based on this concept/ask.

Drabbles: Heat Tank (Johnny gets to kiss you for the first time)

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

#phantom pleasure #johnny storm fanfiction #johnny storm x reader #johnny storm x you #johnny storm x y/n #series masterlist #fantastic four fanfiction #fantastic 4 fanfiction #ghost!reader #johnny storm smut #mystery/suspense

[petitelepus]

so transformers (any series) with a human/ghost reader. They find a seemingly abandoned planet, but turns out it wasn’t abandoned fully. The race that used to inhabit it (humans) have all died out yes, but some have stuck around as a thing called ghosts.

(Could be another humans are cute one like the apocalypse request you got a bit ago)

It's been so long since you last saw another living creature. For some reason, when you died you didn't go to Heaven or Hell, the next life, or whatever happened after death.

No, you stayed around as a ghost and it was honestly such a lonely life to spend alone with no one to talk to except yourself. Since the apocalypse, any evidence of humankind was year by year wiped away.

The huge skyscrapers and buildings fell into ruins, plants took over the huge cities and animals roamed the lands.

Then it all changed when this alien spaceship with it came to these giant alien machines. They took one look at your planet and saw how the apocalypse had destroyed its human population.

They didn't stay long, but they didn't need to. All you needed was a second and you had you left the Earth's atmosphere with the Bots.

After years of loneliness, you were so glad for another intellectual species! You looked around this ship called Lost Light and learned about its residents.

It was exciting and interesting to follow their lives, but you didn't want to be an invisible and mute bystander anymore.

No, you decided to haunt the Lost Light and so you took control of the huge ship.

Your presence was noticed immediately when you complimented Rodimus for almost making a perfect black flip to his chair.

Or when you asked Ultra Magnus if he would like you to record the next captains' meeting.

Then there was a time when you took over the music in Swerve's bar night and played some of your favorite party songs.

"Do we have a virus or something?" Rodimus asked as he, Megatron, and Ultra Magnus were having a meeting about the weird occurrences.

You smiled as you watched them talk through the cameras.

"I assure you, captain, I'm no virus." Your voice echoed in the speakers and Rodimus nearly jumped out of his armor, "What the frag are you!?"

"Oh, I'm an organic lifeform called a human, from planet Earth."

"But-!" Ultra Magnus blinked, "Humans are dead?"

"And so am I. Or, I was, but now I'm this ship."

"So... You somehow took over the ship?"´Megatron asked.

"I AM the ship now, Captain Megatron." You said with a smile, "And I'm happier than ever before, serving you guys."

Rodimus, Megatron, and Ultra Magnus looked at each other and you could tell they were talking through commlinks, but you could still hear them.

'Can we erase them?'

'Like a virus?'

"I wouldn't recommend that." You warned them, "I'm here to help, befriend, and serve you guys. I'm an ally, not an enemy."

"Can we trust you?" Ultra Magnus asked and you smiled, "Of course you can. You gave me a new home so the least I can do is to be there when you guys need me."

"Alright," Megatron nodded, "So you are one of us now? Then what should we call you as?"

"My human name doesn't matter anymore. You can call me Lost Light." You replied, "Would you like me to inform the rest of the crew that there is a new lifeform, aka me, here?"

"Uh, how about asking them to come to a meeting and introducing you there?"

"That sounds wonderful Captain Rodimus." You nodded, "I promise, I will look after you all."

#transformers mtmte #transformers #mtmte #megatron #ultra magnus #rodimus #rodimus prime #reader #ghost #ghost!Reader #Anon #ENJOY!

[thedarkcircuswritings]

Oh my gosh I feel so bad about Butter Roll Cookie 😭

Can we have an aftermath of it?

Like how will he be acting now that the Reader is gone?

(PS: Can Ghost Reader be there like trying to hug him even if reader is passing through them since there a ghost and all?)

(Love your writings!!! 😭💕✨)

Butter Roll was never the same after what had happened. He had planned to do so many things with you... The marriage, to grow a family, to grow old together... All gone because of the bitterness of another cookie. There was a while where he simply interrogated Matcha, asking her why. Why did she subject everyone to this? Why did she take YOU away from him? When the anger went away, it just turned into cold bitterness. He was no longer as happy or cheery when he worked with the others, simply wearing a dead cold expression as he instructed who to do what. Though he could not see you, your spirit still lingered, and your heart ached to see what kind of scientist he was now becoming. You reached out to him, and all he felt was cold air as your arms passed through him without much pressure within them. You'll never be able to touch your beloved again, only watch as his heart grows colder by the day. Unaware to you, Pomegranate knows of your presence and knows just what to tell Butter Roll so his work ethic improves for Dark Enchantress...

#🎭shadow writing! #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run oneshot #cookie run angst #butter roll cookie #reader cookie #y/n cookie #butter roll x reader #ghost!reader #ghost!y/n #butter roll x ghost!reader #pomegrante cookie

[gurugirl]

lmao i can see ghost harry using yn to attract dumb man to the house

or even fuck her while some visitors are around

Had a few requests for some ghost!harry smut. Hope all you anons who wanted it see this and it's what you're looking for. Here ya go. Based on my Halloween One Shot

🖤🎃HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!🎃🖤

Warning: Smut, ghosts, exhibitionism, implied murder, kind of dark due to content. 1k words

The young couple peeled a few boards away from the window to climb inside the house. Y/n watched on as they searched through the rooms.

“I think we take them. Let’s have some fun first,” Harry held Y/n close to him as he whispered into her ear.

As ghosts, Harry and Y/n could throw their voices anywhere. They often enjoyed scaring people off the premises with the sounds they could make. Sometimes they’d make cliché ghost sounds, other times it would be blood curdling screams, and once in a while they’d fuck and lure people with the sound of illicit pleasure.

Tonight they were in the mood for keeping the souls of the intruders, to feed the house, to feed the starved souls below. Harry started off by pushing Y/n into their bed and eating her cunt. Her soft moans were heard first by the girl, but she couldn’t tell where the sound was coming from.

“What is that? Can you hear that, Frank?” She looked around the room and saw no one but Frank could also hear it. The sounds of wet pussy being slurped and licked. The moans and gasps of a woman enjoying her lovers mouth.

The pair went deeper into the house, where the darkest parts of the hallway were hidden from the light. The sounds of sex increased in volume.

Harry and Y/n just liked to fuck as much as possible in general, but having some living souls around to hear how good it was only fueled their lust. Once they began to fuck, that's when things got very loud. They made sure that the living couple could hear them no matter what room they were in.

"Get in there. Just like that, Harry... Fuck me..." Harry railed Y/n from behind, slapping his hips into her ass hard and fast. They both moaned and grunted, the bed dipping and bouncing. Y/n had one hand on the headboard to keep herself lifted and her other fingers rolled over her clit as Harry reached deep inside of her, his hands at her hips.

You might think ghosts can't have sex once they don't have bodies, but that isn't the case. Ghosts are probably far hornier than even humans are. Fucking is basically something enjoyable to pass the time away, which they have a lot of.

"Barb, I think they're in the room over here. Oh my god I can't believe there's someone else in here!" Frank said and they quietly laughed, thinking they'd caught another couple who'd snuck into the house like them.

The bed frame scratched and jostled and the sound of Y/n's wet pussy being pounded into was turning Frank on a bit. Her moans and the dirty talk pouring out of the room...

"Want it like this?" Harry began railing her harder like she liked and the sound of his balls smacking into her from his force was loud and unmistakable, "Such a fucking slut for me every fucking day, Y/n. Can't get enough of m'cock can you?"

"Oh... never. Need your cock to stuff me full all the time. Feels so good!" Her words were grunted as she was being jostled forward with each hammer of Harry's hips.

"Wow. They are really going at it," Barb said with wide eyes. She was a little jealous. Frank had never fucked her like that. Plus she knew she heard the sound of the guy in the next room giving his lover cunnilingus just before. Frank rarely offered it freely.

"Yes, baby. Take this big cock deep inside your hole. Fucking so tight and hot. Clenching my dick, come on my cock baby. Let me see you cream all over me," Harry's voice sounded tight and lusty. He was about to bust.

"Yes! Oh god!! Please... I'm coming... I'm coming!" Y/n shouted as her orgasm washed over her body in record time. It always happened fast when others were around to hear it. She loved making people jealous.

Harry pounded into her, fucking her through her orgasm as he gasped and groaned. When he finally released he let out a shout and then nutted inside of his mate, pressing his hips to her bum, his cock throbbing and spurting inside of her.

"Shit. Do you think she really had an orgasm? That was fast," Frank noted.

Barb rolled her eyes. She knew the sound of a woman having an orgasm, and that was the sound of a woman who'd just come hard, "I think so. Sounded really good."

Frank looked down at his girlfriend and gave her a look of question, "Is it turning you on?" He whispered as they neared the room to see if they could get a peek.

Barb smiled and noticed the bulge in Frank's pants, "Kind of," she admitted.

When they looked into the room it was difficult to see anything. It was too dark. They weren't sure if they should alert the lovers of their presence or not.

Suddenly Y/n was stood before the pair, naked, still wet with hard nipples, "Enjoy the show?"

The young couple jumped and backed up. Barb shook her head, "Sorry! We didn't know anyone else was here!"

Harry appeared then next to Barb and grinned. Barb couldn't help to look down at the ghosts big, still-hard and slick cock. Her mouth dropped open. Yeah, that definitely gave an orgasm to the girl he was just fucking.

"It's okay. Would you like to join?" Harry's grin was teasing and devious.

With Y/n pulling at Frank and Harry pulling at Barb, they separated the couple and played out their dark fantasies with the humans until they'd had enough of them, with Y/n forcing Frank down on his knees to lick her clean, and Harry fucking Barb's throat and choking her til she passed out.

When they were done with the bodies they gave them to the spirits living in the basement and laughed about how simple it was to trick the living. Humans can be so dumb and so easy.

Thank you for reading! I’d appreciate any support you can give! Whether a comment, reblog, or buying me a coffee - it’s all appreciated.

Check out my masterlist you enjoyed this ���

Xoxo

Tags: @victoria-styles @0oolookitsme @prettythingsworld @angel-akxo @harrysficreblog @indierockgirrl @daphnesutton @mellie-harry @michellekstyles @ssaama @angelqueen99 @sombrioinvernoemveneza @golden-hoax @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @yousunshineyoutempter @the-gardener-31 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @dancinsunflowerkiwi @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @harrys-foxy @dirtytissuebox @closureesny @lhharrylilpumpkin @evelynlarue @chaptersleftunwritten @anothermannharry

#harry styles smut #harry styles #ghost!harry #evil!harry #ghost!reader #halloween one shot #halloween #horror #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic

[calmthefuckdownalright]

Hello hello! I was gonna ask if I could request a Ghostbur x reader who’s also a ghost, but near polar opposite of him, like for example they don’t show much emotion, don’t normally get attached to people and react very numbly to things. Sorry if this is really specific, love your work btw!

Title: I Think I Died For You

Summary: You'd been a lost soul in the Greater Dream SMP for a while and after Schlatt died you thought you might finally get a friend. Then Wilbur happened.

Pairing: Ghostbur x Ghost!Reader

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No one remembered how you died. There were theories based off your ghost wounds but no one could really tell. Ghost research wasn't all that inclusive and hardly anyone knew anything about your kind. Answers were thought to be available once Schlatt died hoping that his ghost would return and data could be recorded.

But no. The bastard had to enjoy the Afterlife and not have any shit left to do on the living plane.

Then Wilbur happened. You'd met him a few times, Alivebur, in passing and had formed a few theories yourself once he died. You'd kind of hoped Schlatt's ghost would've been your first friend but that obviously backfired so the newly introduced Ghostbur was your next bet.

"Oh! You're a ghost too! That's so cool!" Ghostbur gasped and examined you closely. You watched as he flickered with excitement.

"Uh yeah I guess." You shrugged and answered question after question from your fellow ghost.

"How'd you die?"

"No one knows."

"What's your name?"

"*insert ghost name*."

"Do you have any family?"

"None that I know of."

"Do you not like me much Y/N?" Ghostbur asked and you stopped walking alongside him.

"What makes you think that?" You raised an eyebrow and watched as the sleeve of Ghostbur's sweater folded over his palm and rubbed the back of his neck.

"You just seem very bored and unhappy. Here, try some blue." Ghostbur handed you a handful of the famous 'blue.' Tommy had told you about it when he came back from exile. When you first really met Ghostbur.

"No no Ghostbur, I'm not sad or upset. I just..." You paused thinking of your words. "I just don't really feel anything." You shrugged and out on a faltering smile. You didn't smile often and Ghostbur had never seen you do so before.

"Your smile is really pretty Y/N." He said and a blue hue rose to his face around his cheeks and across his nose similar to a blush.

"Thank you Ghostbur." This time the smile seemed more genuine than forced and Ghostbur turned away as the two of you walked on.

~~

Ghostbur hung out with you most days. You both went and made potions in his sewer with you taking notes on recipes and him venting our or explaining the many wonderful things he'd seen or did. He tried to remember things too and you seemed to help him.

It wasn't long till suspicious questions were made and answers demanded. Specifically from one sneaky fellow who was one of the ones who had probably been hurt the most by Alivebur and the most spiteful for it.

"Why do you hang out so much with my father?" Fundy asked you.

"I don't think that's any of your business, Fundy." You said and twirled a piece of string around your translucent fingers. The sun was going down and you sat comfortably on the haybales parked outside Wilbur's sewer entrance.

"Answer the question Y/N." Fundy demanded. You turned your head to him and raised a ghostly brow.

"I didn't know you still thought so kindly of Ghostbur. Wasn't Eret supposed to adopt you? Because Wilbur's too dead for you to care about despite him still technically being around." You fired your shot. Over the months, the year, you'd gotten to known Ghostbur you had to admit you'd grown fond of him.

Still though you told yourself it was only because he was the only way to get answers of how YOU worked.

"Tread lightly Y/N, I just want to know what business you have with Ghostbur." Fundy growled a little and you swapped the string for a sword.

"Your father, dead to you as he may be, is my only way to know anything about what I am. He's my answer and happens to be quite a lovely person as well so if you've got a problem with me answering my questions," you hopped off the wagon of hay and twirled the sword before stabbing it into the ground with the grace of a skilled soldier.

"Then I advise you leave before someone gets hurt." You hissed.

Fundy didn't talk to you after that. No one did really besides Ghostbur and you were find with that. Another year passed and another and another. Soon you found yourself calling Ghostbur your friend. You stayed out of his affairs. Technoblade, Phil, Tommy, Dream. Everyone who Ghostbur was involved with you stayed away from.

It was strange to be so alone while Ghostbur spent time with his other friends but you welcomed the silence to try and find answers in your catalog of memories with Ghostbur. Cross referencing them with what little you knew of Alivebur.

Alivebur had been off-putting. Manic and cold. Insane in summary.

Ghostbur was kind and sweet. Warm and caring in every single way.

They were opposites. Ends of the spectrum. Red and Blue. Guilty and Innocent.

It got you thinking about your own situation. Compared to Ghostbur's. Ghostbur was clingy and overwhelming sometimes while you had hardly been around more than two people at once for more than ten minutes.

You were like Alivebur. Secluded and introverted. A wallflower if you will. Ghostbur was your opposite just as he was compared to his alive version. So what did that mean for you?

Obviously no one really knew but you theorized that maybe, just maybe, you had been kind and sweet in your living life. Innocent and blue. Surrounded by friends and people who cared about you. So how come no one remembered you or how you died?

Maybe you hadn't been surrounded by friends and family. Or maybe they all died with you but you were the only one that was required to stick around.

"Y/N? You okay?" Ghostbur poked his head into the sewer room where you sat now. It was quiet and hardly anyone came by so you chose it as your thinking place.

"Oh yes I'm fine Ghostbur. Just trying to find some answers." You sent him a smile and your ghostly friend came and sat beside you on the damp concrete. He looked over your shoulder with his chin resting on it and read your handwriting on the pages. Ghostbur knew he was your only look at how Ghosts worked besides yourself.

"Alivebur wasn't very secluded. Try secretive sure, but not secluded." Ghostbur pointed to your note and a smudge of blue came from his fingertips.

"You remember Alivebur?" You asked him.

"Not really..." Ghostbur muttered and leaned into you more similar to a child embarrassed by how smart they were. "I remember things better when you're around." He admitted.

Ah...there it was. That blue blush crept on Ghostbur again and you felt a similar warmth you thought incapable of having, being dead and everything, spread to your own face.

"I'm sorry if that made you uncomfortable. Things just seem to make more sense when you're here. Like the puzzle pieces finally fit." Ghostbur wrung his hands together and fiddled with some blue. He stayed leaning against you and a real smile worked it's way to your lips.

"It's okay Ghostbur. Things seem clearer when you're with me as well." You said softly and ran a hand across his dark grey curls before placing a kiss to his head.

Ghostbur looked up at you and saw the smile which caused his own. You shifted your body and his head fell to your lap where you combed your fingers through his hair and he kissed your hands every few minutes.

You were ghosts together. Dead and alive in a sewer with potions brewing and questions standing unanswered.

"I think you were supposed to die so I could find you darling." Ghostbur said. You knew he didn't mean it in a bad way so in a sense it seemed sweet.

"I think you were supposed to die so I wouldn't be alone anymore. I don't know how I'll go on if you get revived or some shit." You chuckled and Ghostbur laughed with you.

"I don't want to live again if it means you're alone." Ghostbur smiled up at you and for what felt like the first time you swore your heart skipped in your cold still chest.

Bonus

"Tommy, you said it'd be okay!"

He was gone now. Ghostbur. Your Ghostbur. And a man so different from him and so much like you replaced him in the living world.

Revivebur. You hated him. He was everything Ghostbur wasn't. He wasn't kind or sweet. He didn't smile with warmth despite the coldness of his aminate corpse.

Reivebur was more dead than Ghostbur ever was and you hated it.

"Send me to him. Please." You begged the sky as you mourned. Silent tears and hissing skin as rain pittered down onto you.

"Is this your dying wish?" A voice echoed behind you and you whirled around to be faced with none other than the god himself. XD.

"I will die for him yes." You pleaded and there was a pain so sharp in your chest it was like a bullet.

Then there was grass and blue skies and sunshine again. The air was sweet and clean without a trace of lingering gunpowder and sorrow.

"Darling?" That cracking voice reached you and you spotted him. Your Ghostbur waiting for you.

"I'm here." You laughed and ran to him. The meadow around seemed to become brighter when you touched and both your hands burst into color.

"What's happening?" Ghostbur seemed confused as his former monochrome skin became a sandy beige and his charcoal hair a mess of fluffy brown. Your own skin gained its color and your hair shined with its hue.

Blue stained Ghostbur's sweater still and your own colored blood matched where your former dying wounds were. The Afterlife had given you both a chance.

"We get to live now Ghostbur. Together." You beamed and Ghostbur's skin flushed pink.

"Wow, you're even more beautiful in color." Ghostbur smiled and pulled you in for a kiss.

The air was warm. The sky was bright. Together the ghosts built a life where no one could take it away. They lived their death till the end of their days.

~~

Huffing breaths and clouds covering the skies. A smile and a streak of white in h/c hair.

"I'm alive?" You asked the world and saw a crater before you. Then a man in a long Cao and white cutting through brown curls.

"Who are you?" He asked.

"Y/N..." You panted and got to your feet, shaky on your no longer numb toes. "I've been dead for....so so long." You laughed and looked around. "Where am I?"

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Hope that was okay anon and I appreciate you sending in the request! I thought it'd be fitting to explain my theory on how Ghosts worked on the Dream SMP in this.

I think they simply become the opposite of their living self. So say the reader's living self was cheery and attached easily. Avoided conflict and possibly even responsibility which may or may not have ended in their death.

After being dead for so long I think it's possible they changed drastically just as Revivebur sort of did. He became more empathetic later on and went on to apologize to the ones he hurt while the reader's living self would have a more immediate change due to being dead for so so long.

They would become aggressive and cold. Insane possibly or just impulsive.

But yes I hope you all enjoyed and I'll see you all very soon ✌🏻.

Edit: forgot to mention that the ending in the bonus was simply a little thought as to what I think Ghostbur deserved instead of the train station. Wilbur still stayed there but after Ghostbur was revived he was transported to the meadow depicted above as his true final resting place. I like to think that the train station is a limbo which means he can still come back. Even though the SMP is over for now it still helps me to not cry every time I think of Wilbur's canon ending.

#dream smp #dsmp au #dsmp #Ghostbur x reader #ghost!reader #Revivebur #c!wilbur #c!wilbur soot x reader #c!wilbur soot

[seamirrors]

Ghost Whisperer

pairing: platonic!Klaus Hargreeves x ghost!reader, platonic!Ben Hargreeves x ghost!reader

warning: description of death, mention of drug consum

summery: You were a ghost damned to wander around the earth until your case was finally solved. Sadly you had no hape that it would ever happen, that was until you met a certain Ghost Whisperer.

You were okay.

At least that was what you were telling yourself in your last minutes on this earth. Even thought the evidence was clear, you were still in denial and couldn‘t believe that they would do something like this. At the same time you were trying to put pressure on your stab wound, noticing that your blood sickered through your hand not stopping anytime soon.

It took a few more minutes with the pain but finally it clicked that you were about to die all alone because someone stabbed you and not because of old age like you had always hoped. The chance to have your own family one day was ripped away from you the moment that knife was pushed into your gut and there was no chance that anyone would ever hear you so far out and away from the next city.

You that about your family and how they would react the moment the found out you were dead. Your poor mother would probably fall into a depression or focus only on other people. And your father? His rage would be untameble. After all you were their only child and were loved over anything else. Yes, they spoilt you but it was out of love.

The last thoughts of yours before you closed your eyes forever where of your parents.

————————————

When you awoke you were in an alley in the middle of the city and full of surprise you looked down on yourself no blood was found on your outfit. The outfit was still the same one that you were wearing the night you were murdered.

With fast steps you walked out of the alley and onto the sidewalk. You tried to talk to the people that were walking by but it was like they were ignoring you or maybe they didn‘t see you.

Day after day you tried talking to people for about a month. The monment the month ended you decided you would try again, for your own sanity.

That was 20 years ago.

————————

In those 20 years nothing really changed for you. You were still walking around the earth without being seen. You traveled and watched over your family and like you predicted their reaction was just that. The didn‘t get a divorce thankfully ut their dynamic wasn‘t the same after your dead.

You were back in your hometown and wandered away from your family’s home. Of course you didn‘t pay any attention to your surroundings since you were a ghost and no one in the last 20 years payed you any attention. So it was a suprise when you walked into someone.

You let out a gasped and landed on the floor and it seemed that the person before you wasn‘t spared either. When you started to focus on the person before you you noticed that it was a young man with asian features who looked equally suprised as you.

For a minute it seemed that all you two could do was look at each other. Full of confusion and surprise.

You started to get from the floor and he did the same. Taken a step towards him he questioned the young man :" You can see me?"

He studied your face while telling you:“ I‘m a ghost and it seemed you are too.“ You nodded your head. After all what he said about you was true. “Then why are you still here and not on the other side?“ he questioned.

So you started to tell him why you were still here and can‘t wander to the other side. You explained your murder and that you can only wander across when you killer was behind bars. But that since you were a ghost you would be forced to stay on this side like you did the last 20 years.

Ben, as he told you his name was, nodded his head at your explanation and told you that he knew someone that yould help you cross to the other side. Without any other word you followed him.

———————

It turned out that the 'someone' was his brother and that said brother was able to communicate with the dead if he wasn‘t high. You understood why he would turn to drugs ,after all you couldn‘t imagine for it to be pleasant to talk to a bunch of dead guys.

Understandably he wasn‘t to eager to help you when Ben explained your situation and that was what he told you.

So you turned to the only thing that you told yourself you would never do, begging.

"Please Klaus! I wouldn‘t be asking if I had another choice but it has been 20 years and I‘m desperate to finally be able to close this final chapter of my life. My parents deserve to know what happened to their only child, please.“

It was silent for a minute until he muttered an 'okay'.

You could have kissed him.

——————

It took you guys a week until your killer was finally catched.

You rold Klaus evereything you need to know about your murder. Clues and everything else, including who you thought was the killer. As it turned out it wasn‘t your best friend like you thought all these years, it was actually your partner who grew jealous of your close friendship to her and so in jealous rage she stabbed you.

All of this years you blamed her since you couldn‘t see the killers face but they had the same jacket in that she had and the same friendship bracelet. It was hard to find out that you blamed her ,while at the same time it was your partner. The same one that you were so in love with.

You thanked Klaus and Ben for their help and crossed to the other side. But still in the end…

You were not okay

#klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves #tua #ghost!reader #platonic #the umbrella academy #ben hargreeves

[youfreakinturltle]

Protect You

(A/N): Hello friends! So this is my first fanfic in a verryyyy long time lol! I’ve had this idea in my head for weeks now and finally decided to write it down (literally the first thing I’ve attempted to write since high school lol). This is currently planned to be 3 parts but if we reach part 3 and y’all would like for me to continue just let me know! I am going to go ahead and mention that there are a few Black Sails themes here to help her backstory, but that’s about it!

Pairing: Colby Brock x ghost!fem!reader

Warnings: mentions of death, superstition, and some language (I believe that’s all, if I missed anything please let me know!)

You’ve been stuck in this hoity-toity mansion for over 300 years now and it’s been your own personal hell. In life you were a pirate who had just been appointed the position of Quartermaster of The Walrus, one step closer to your dream of captaining your own ship after spending a life in piracy. The last thing you remember from your life was trying to protect Abigail Ashe during the sacking of Charlestown. Why you were ordered to protect the governor’s daughter when you and your crew had already found Captains Flint and Vane made no sense to you at the time, but seeing them completely disregard you and leave you behind in the escape, everything started to fall into place. You were a woman, the daughter of one of the prostitutes on Nassau, and one of the few who tried desperately to deter Captain Flint from his mission of hunting the Urca de Lima. Honestly, you should’ve seen this coming. After successfully protecting Abigail, the people of Charlestown still only saw you as a “dirty pirate” and went forth with your execution regardless, inside the very mansion that you fought so hard to protect.

It’s been 300 years since that fateful day and you’re still here in the Ashe Mansion. You quickly realized that even if you did try to move on, given your piracy, you likely wouldn’t go anywhere all that great so you opted for staying here and carrying on your dying mission - protecting people that enter this home from the malevolent entities that ended up here over time. You tend to only protect kind or good people, just like in life, seeing the bad as people that aren’t worth your protection.

Over time you’ve seen people of all kinds, good people who either didn’t know or didn’t care about the place being haunted, awful people who used the house to do awful things, and once it had no longer been sold as a home, but deemed a historical monument, you’ve seen many people who you came to understand as “ghost hunters”. You didn’t particularly like most of these given the disrespectful manner they seemed to treat you and the other spirits in the home. They always asked inappropriate or far too personal questions so most of the time you kept your distance and stayed quiet. Because of this many only heard stories of you from the tour guides, but had never encountered you so they questioned your existence entirely.

But one day a group of four men entered the home, giving an energy you hadn’t felt in decades: kindness. They spoke respectfully to the spirits and harshly to the malevolent ones. You had become used to dumb people trying to speak and connect to the dark energies so this slightly caught you off guard. You observed them as they wandered through the mansion, eventually ending up in the parlor where you stay, where you had died.

“And here we have the parlor! Legend has it that back in the 1700’s, during the Sack of Charlestown, there was a female pirate who stayed behind to protect Abigail Ashe, daughter of governor Ashe.” You perked up from your chair in the corner, hearing the tour guide, Leo, tell your story.

“She isn’t very active so you may not get much from her. Given that she was a pirate, her name was cut from all records we have of the event that took place. None really know what happened in here once the attack was over, so we have no record of how she died, why she was even ordered to be here, or why she was left behind by her crew. The only thing we know was that she was a ship’s quartermaster. Lots of people have tried talking to her to try and get some answers, but unfortunately as soon as the questions start, she usually disappears.”

“Do you have an idea of what questions we should avoid in order to try and avoid disrespecting her in any way?” a man with blonde hair, holding what you’ve come to learn is a camera, asks.

“Honestly we don’t, we’ve seen her leave from a question as simple as asking her name. We believe she likes to observe what’s going on but isn’t too keen on getting involved.”

“We completely understand, we’ll be as respectful as possible,” said the man with darker hair and a nose ring. Turning to the room in general he continued, “I’m honestly not too sure how to address you, Lady Quartermaster, but we just want you to know that we mean no harm or disrespect at all. We just want to learn a little more about you if that’s okay. If being filmed is what makes you uncomfortable, can you give us a sign so we don’t unintentionally upset you later?”

You think on it for a second, weighing if these men are worth the effort. After a moment of looking into the eyes of the man who just spoke you decide they’re being truthful. Getting up from your chair you walk over to a lamp that had been off the entire time, tapping it once to turn it on. Gasps emit through the room and the man who spoke seems the most excited.

“Oh my gosh, thank you so much! We really appreciate you doing that for us! When we come back later, I promise the camera will be off. Would you be okay with us sharing your story after? If so can you turn that light off? If not, can you turn on the lamp on the desk?”

You contemplate for a second whether you’re ready to have your story known and decide that it’s been long enough. Reaching over to the lamp you had turned on, you tap it again turning it off. Queue another round of cheers from the group.

“Okay, we understand, thank you so much again for your time!” This time it was the blonde man that spoke.

“Bro this is insane, I guess she likes you, Colby!” Says a man with shoulder length brown hair.

“Shut up dude,” Colby said before turning back to the room in general, “Thank you so much again, we’ll be back in a little while to talk to you some more!”

A couple of hours passed before the men returned to the parlor. You had since learned that along with Colby, their names were Sam, Seth, and Nate. They seemed slightly shaken up which did not sit well with you after having taken a slight liking to them. For the first time in decades you felt your protective nature seeping back into you. Before they even had the chance to begin speaking to you, you walked over to a mirror and made it fog up.

“What happened?”

“Oh my god. Oh my god, DUDE LOOK!! The mirror!!!” Seth said slightly freaking out. You understood their fear, having been around many superstitious pirates in your life.

“Lady Quartermaster, is that you…?” Asked Colby.

You fog up the mirror again and write. “Yes. You scared. Why?”

All the men seemed absolutely speechless, likely never having had such an interaction, with their jaws all but hanging on the floor. Colby spoke up again, “Um… It’s okay, we’re okay”

“Liar. What. Happened.”

They begin to nervously look at each other before Sam said, “we just thought we saw something in the hallway. Honestly, we’ll be okay.”

“Shadow?”

“Yeah, that’s what it looked like. Why, do you know what it was?”

“Bad. I protect.”

Nate has since seemed to get over his shock and spoke to you for the first time, “Wait, you want to protect us from it? Why??”

“You good. My duty.”

“Wait, was that your mission?? Is that why you were here?” Colby asked very excitedly.

“Sort of.”

Your writing was very slow given that you had only recently learned how to do this, and Colby seemed to catch on that it was a little difficult for you. He and Sam quickly got to work setting up different equipment you recognized from other “hunters”.

“Okay, feel free to use any of these devices to communicate with us if you would like,” said Colby. “Is it okay if we ask you a few questions now? I promise our camera is turned off.” To prove that it was indeed not recording, he held it up for you to see before putting it in his bag.

You walk over to the “spirit box” and say, “yes.”

“Okay, awesome! Can we ask what your name was? Just something simple to start out with.”

“(Y/N)”

After several more questions and choruses of cheers, they get to the part that made you the most upset - your death.

“If it’s alright, can we ask how you died?”

Silence.

“Are you not comfortable with that question?”

“….would you be?”

They look sadly at one another, and for once it’s not a disappointed sadness, but one of sympathy. Like they know it was so awful you just can’t speak of it. Deciding that these men have been more than respectful enough, you hesitantly tell them, “…firing squad.”

You hear a murmured “oh my god” as they sit with their hands over their mouths. Colby hesitantly asks, “Why? I thought you were protecting the governor’s daughter…”

“Dirty pirate”

They look at each other horrified for a moment before Seth says, “that’s so fucked. You were protecting one of their people and they killed you anyways? I’m so sorry, (Y/N).”

“Blame captain. Left me.”

Colby seems to get angry at this saying, “your captain left you behind?? What the shit?!”

“Defied plans. Treasure. Dirty money. He wanted. Tried to stop him. Tried to protect.”

They seem to be putting the pieces together, so when they ask for confirmation on whether you were trying to protect your captain by stopping him from getting this treasure, you walk to the music box to indicate that they are right.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N). Truly, that’s horrible. If you’d like we can leave for a little bit and let you rest.”

You immediately remember the Shadow Man and the Crawler that are lurking in this house and begin to panic. Someone as kind as these men would be highly susceptible to their torment. You run back to the spirit box, “NO. PROTECT.”

They all jump about a foot in the air and Colby asks, while trying to catch his breath, “you want us to stay in the parlor so we’re safe?”

“Can wander. I go with. Protect.”

“(Y/N), you know you don’t have to do that right? You’ve fulfilled your duty, it’s okay, I promise,” Colby says gently.

“NO! THEY’RE BAD! THEY WILL NOT TOUCH YOU!”

They look around at each other in shock, not only at your outburst, but the fact that this was the first full sentence you could get across.

“Okay, you can come with us through the house. We’ll be careful so you don’t have to work so hard, alright?”

You touch the rempod to show you understand and follow as they leave the room.

#colby brock #colby brock x y/n #colby brock x reader #Colby Brock x ghost!reader #fanfic #Sam and Colby #pirate!reader #ghost!reader #protect you series

[freshieautoybox]

heaven is not fit to house a love

like you and I

#fresh doodles #undertale #underfell papyrus/reader #ghost!reader