Ghost Stories
cw: oral sex, vaginal penetration, size difference, non-human genetalia, deceased partner mentioned
male specter x afab reader
Word count: 7k
When he heard the door of the house creak open he groaned and went to surveil his newest target. Usually it was teens snooping around, looking for a secluded spot to make out. Or dumb kids, trying to scare each other in the abandoned house in the middle of the woods. Not this time though. It wasn’t even people trying to evaluate the property, see what was worth salvaging, at least he understood why those people were there.
This one was different. You were alone, already an anomaly. People didn’t tend to come here alone, stomping through haunted houses appeared to be a group activity more often than not. You had more stuff than was typical too, with a small machine in your hand and a backpack that looked quite heavy strapped to your back.
Then he heard the noise coming through your little machine. At first he thought it must be a walkie talkie or a phone. So you weren’t here alone, not really, you were talking to someone else. The longer he observed from the shadows the more he realized that that wasn’t the case. Whatever the machine was was more akin to a radio, switching through radio stations nonstop, spitting out mostly static and the occasional word that he’d mistaken for another person.
He’d seen enough of your little shenanigans, he wanted you gone. So, he did what he always did, he prepared himself to scare you off. It was really all he knew, some instinctual urge he never really questioned.
He’d been watching you for a while, but from your perspective he appeared out of nowhere. You might have caught a glimpse of him before, out of the corner of your eye, he never fully disappeared, but now you could most certainly see him. He was vaguely humanoid, in the staticy, abstract shape of a human, though something about it was decidedly not right. Parts of his form would occasionally flicker in and out of view, he wasn’t perfect at staying tangible but his towering form seemed to do the job nonetheless. The easiest part to maintain and the clearest part of him was his mouth, which was good because it was the most frightening part of him. While the rest may be a little flickery his gaping maw and the sharp teeth inside were clear and distinct and decidedly threatening.
Your eyes widened the second you saw him, but not with the same face that most had. There was no fear there. If he didn’t know better he would’ve called it excitement.
You spent a few moments just taking him in, tracing his form with your gaze. He could feel the flickering in and out of reality get worse. He wasn’t used to being stared at like this, usually one glimpse and people went running but you couldn’t seem to pull your eyes away.
He tried to stay menacing in the face of this unusual response.
“I’m not scared of you,” you said, clearly figuring out his intent. That taunting, excited smile was still plastered across your face as if wanting to rub salt in the wound. He had half a mind to show you that he wasn’t messing around, that his daunting appearance wasn’t just for show but that was a last resort. He didn’t really want to hurt you, at least not unless absolutely necessary.
He scowled down, unsure with how to proceed. He’d never spoken to one of them before, he wasn’t quite sure how to get you to leave when plan A failed. “You should be,” he hissed.
You squeaked, letting out a little yelp of excitement, your hands flapping a little by your sides as you stood.
Many of the signs here were the same as when people were afraid, the arms movement, the squeaks and yelps and wide eyes, but for entirely opposite reasons. Maybe humans just didn’t have that many reactions for things, cycling through the same few regardless of the emotion.
As your investigation of his form concluded and you seemed content with whatever you’d been looking for, you seemed unable to contain your excitement. “You’re a ghost! A real, live ghost! Well, maybe not live, but still!”
Is that what they called him? Ghost? He didn’t have a name for what they were so he supposed it would have to do.
“Why aren’t you scared?” He supposed if he couldn’t get rid of you, he might as well figure out why. Then maybe if someone else came along with a broken radio he could shoo them away faster.
“I was prepared, I guess, although I was totally wrong about what you’d look like. I came here looking for you.”
For him? Noone had ever come looking for him before. He didn’t really know how to respond. Had one of the people he’d scared off told you about him? “How did you even know I was here?”
“Everyone says this place is haunted, you have quite the reputation.”
Although you not being scared off by him had certainly hurt his pride, that boosted his ego a little. “Do I?”
You gave him a little nod, your eyes still raking over him. “Can I ask you some questions?” you asked, and he couldn’t think of any other way forwards.
“Will that make you leave?”
The little human nodded eagerly and he supposed that sealed his fate for the afternoon. He’d prefer answering a few questions to having to deal with a dead body anyways.
You settled in pretty quickly, pulling out a notebook and clicking a pen as you sat cross legged on the floor.
He faded out of his physical form as you sat. It was more comfortable to set himself adrift anyways, and he could still talk that way. At least then you wouldn’t be able to stare at him endlessly anymore. You could still see glimmers of him, moments of movement out of the corner of your eye, but nothing substantial.
“When did you die?”
He reeled back. “When did I what?” Maybe you were mad, running around, accusing people of being dead. Perhaps that was why you weren’t scared by him.
“When did you die? Do you not remember that, is that insensitive to ask?”
You sounded absolutely genuine and he couldn't make any sense of what you were getting at. “Do you think I’m dead?”
“That’s what ghosts are, right? Dead people.”
Is that what humans thought of them? Of course he wasn’t dead, did he seem dead? He hoped not, although he wasn’t entirely sure why he cared what you thought.
“No, dead people are dead people, how could one be here?”
“Oh.” Now you looked upset. Why couldn’t he have gotten this reaction before, when he was trying to scare you?
“You seem very personally invested in me being dead,” he prompted, hoping to get more information out of you.
“No, it’s not that, it’s just… someone close to me died and… and I’ve been convinced he was still out there somewhere, I’ve been looking for proof all year.” He could see your eyes welling up and some quiet sniffles coming from you. “It’s not your fault, I’m sorry.”
Oh. Well now he felt like an ass. “Hey, I don’t really know what happens to dead people. Maybe he’s still around.”
This did not appear to stop your sniffling. If you started crying he didn’t know what he was going to do, this was so far from what he was good at. He could scare people off, could protect his home and could keep the insufferable creatures away from him, he could not comfort people.
You tried to wipe your eyes before any tears got the chance to fall, although he wasn’t sure why. He could clearly see the state you were in, you weren’t going to hide anything that way.
Still, you tried to push past it, putting on a strained smile for him before pushing on. “So what are you then?”
What was he? Not dead, that much he was certain of, but beyond that he wasn’t sure he had answers for you. “I don’t know, for a long time I wasn’t and then one day I just… was. And I was here and I knew I had to scare people off.”
“What happens when you can’t scare them off?”
“Then they ask me a bunch of silly questions.”
He hadn’t meant it as a joke but it spurred some giggling from you anyways. You couldn’t see it but his head cocked to the side, the noise curious to him. That was the noise the kids made when they went running through the halls of his house trying to spook one another or the teens made as they talked about sneaking about and doing things they weren’t supposed to.
Noone had ever made it for him before, he wasn’t certain if he should be pleased or upset.
“My questions aren’t silly!” You defended yourself with a smile, a genuine one this time.
Of course they were silly. “You asked if I was dead,” he reminded you, hoping that would spur your memory on the subject. Humans seemed to have some difficulty grasping rather simple ideas, he noted quietly, although he didn’t say it aloud for fear of upsetting you again.
“How was I supposed to know? Basically everyone thinks that the specters that haunt old houses are dead people.”
He didn’t want to keep pushing the issue, to tell you how silly the idea really was, even if it was held by all of your kind. You were clearly clinging to the idea that dead people were just lost and all you had to do was find them again and he didn’t know how to broach the issue without upsetting you so instead he just let out what he hoped was an ambiguous noise.
You filled the silence he left pretty quickly with more of your endless questions. “So you just stay here, all on your own? Who do you talk to?”
“You.”
“No, I mean who else?” you asked, clearly thinking he didn’t understand the question when it was you who wasn’t getting it.
“There is no one else.”
He watched a look of realization cross your face, your eyes widening and your hand whipping up over your mouth in surprise. “Am I the first person you’ve ever spoken to?”
Of course not, that was ridiculous. “Sometimes I speak when I scare people off and make them leave,” he clarified, something he thought you would have assumed.
“That doesn’t count.”
Well, if you were going to impose a bunch of silly, nonsensical little rules on him then of course he couldn’t meet your standards. “Then yes, you are.”
Your eyebrows were furrowed in concern and he could see your eyes shift, trying to locate his currently transparent form, latching onto the little shifts in the air whenever you could find them. “Don’t you get lonely?” you asked, doing your best to look up at him but ending up staring at his chest. Close enough.
Lonely? He understood a lot of things, they seemed almost implanted in him. Not that one though. He logically understood it, it meant a longing for companionship, but he didn’t really understand it. Alone was how things should be, how could one fear it.
“No,” he said, the spite clear in his tone, “I don’t get lonely.”
You didn’t look like you believed him. He wasn’t sure what more he could do to convince you. He supposed it didn’t really matter, you’d leave soon anyways and then he wouldn’t have to worry about what you did or didn’t believe about him.
Speaking of, he was eager to get rid of you. He’d heard enough of your questioning and he clearly did not have the answers you were looking for anyways. “Are we done here?” The spite in his voice seemed to carry over because the question came out sharper than he’d intended it to.
You nodded, looking even more upset at his frustration. “Yeah, I can go. Sorry to bother you.”
You stood up, clearly a little shaky on your feet and for a moment he worried he’d somehow caused it. You turned to look at him but just like before, there was nothing to see. Likewise, you couldn’t see him trail behind you, following you all the way to the door, watching you through the doorway as you entered the woods just outside.
You looked back at the house, clearly uncertain of if he was watching you leave or not, unaware of his transparent form hovering in the doorway. You gave a hesitant little wave and for reasons he didn’t really understand, despite the fact that you absolutely could not see him, he waved back.
After you left, he assumed you’d just be gone. You’d seemed dejected by your conversation, of course you had, he’d destroyed your hope and made you cry despite your initial chipper attitude. But a few days later, you returned, just as bright eyed as the first time.
He made himself tangible immediately, still half convinced you’d go running at his monstrous form, despite all the evidence he’d received on the contrary. “Why are you here?” he hissed out as you jerked back at his sudden appearance.
The jolt back gave him hope that maybe the prior incident had been a fluke but you quickly settled from the start he’d given you. “What do you mean why am I here?
“You’re back. Why?” He wasn’t sure he could make his question any clearer, hoping you’d understood it this time.
“I met a supernatural creature, that’s crazy, you think I’m just going to go home?”
“You were looking for dead people. I’m not dead people.” You really did need things spelled out for you it seemed.
You just shrugged. “Maybe you weren’t what I was looking for but you’re still incredible.”
Was he? He did think he was incredible but he supposed he didn’t have much of a frame of reference.
As he pondered the issue you settled back onto the floor, clearly here to stay for a while once more. Your backpack seemed lighter this time and you reached in and pulled out a bag of orange crackers as you made yourself comfortable.
“So you really don’t know what you are?” You spoke through a mouthful of your little crackers, studying him as you snacked from your spot on the floor.
Once more he found himself humoring you, providing answers to all of your endless questions, unsure what other options he had. “Not really. The universe doesn’t like emptiness, that’s my theory. We fill in the cracks, the places where no one else is. We’re built to be solitary creatures, that’s why we’re, you know, used to scaring people off. And why we’re not usually tangible, just the wind in abandoned spaces.”
“Does it hurt? Being tangible like this? You seem to flicker in and out a lot, if it’s uncomfortable you don’t have to do it.”
He shook his head, solidifying even more firmly for a moment so you could see him. “It just takes focus. I’m getting better at it after last time, normally I don’t do it for more than a second or two so I’m not really used to conversations.”
He was trying to stay tangible so you could see him this time. Whenever he stopped your eyes would drift, searching for signs of him to latch onto, and he wanted to make things a little easier on you.
Your face immediately broke out into a smile at his words. “Glad I could help you learn then!” Your pride at being helpful to him was obvious, sitting up a little straighter as a gleam entered your eyes. “So me and my questions aren’t a complete nuisance, good to know.”
He wasn’t sure he’d say that, you were a little bit of a nuisance, even if you did seem to be inexplicably growing on him. Not that he’d ever tell you that.
He didn’t need to worry about his little secret though because you’d already moved on to yet another question.
“So the ghost hunting gear I brought, it doesn’t do jack shit, does it?”
Considering he’d sensed literally nothing that first time he’d seen you, that was probably a no. “Absolutely not. Was that what that radio was?”
You nodded. “Yup. It’s supposed to help ghosts communicate, but I guess you don’t really seem to have a problem with the whole talking thing.”
“I can talk just fine on my own.” The insinuation was insulting, why wouldn’t he be able to talk? Humans really did just assume the worst of them.
“Well I know that now. Wait, do you have a name? Shit, I should have asked earlier, sorry, I got caught up in the whole talking to a ghost thing. I really should start writing down my questions, prioritizing.”
“No. Like I said, we’re solitary creatures, had no one to give me a name and I’ve got no one to call me one so really it would be useless.”
You didn’t seem to like that answer. “I should call you something.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, I just feel like I should. Do you have any names that you like?”
He thought on it for a moment, trying to appease you, but nothing came to mind. “Not really.”
“I can help you come up with one then!” You fished your phone out of your pocket, something he recognized from the many visitors he’d promptly scared off. “God, the service out here is abysmal,” you said as you poked at the scream.
“Apparently it’s better if you hold it up.” Not that he knew from personal experience but that’s what he’d heard as he’d watched from the shadows as people held their phones to the sky and complained about the service.
You stuck your arms straight up from where you were sitting on the ground, your head craning to still see the screen. A small victory cry escaped you and he assumed he’d helped fix the problem. That shouldn’t make him as pleased as it did.
“I could just go through a list of names, how’s that sound?”
“Fine.”
The human names you kept proposing to him were absurd. None of them could capture him at all, not in any way. ‘Ghost’ was already pushing it but Charlie? Peter? Absolutely not, the thought was absurd.
At the hundredth rejection you scrunched up your nose, falling silent for a moment before vocalizing your decision. “Fuck this, it clearly isn’t working, I’m googling ghost names.”
He sneered at the idea. Humans had no idea about his kind, if they thought he was dead he could only imagine how awful their names might be.
His suspicion was proven correct as he heard a giggle escape you. “I could call you Casper.”
He could tell from your tone that it was a bad choice, even if he had no idea why. “Am I being mocked?”
“I’ll take that as a no. There’s things that are less names and more…categories, I guess, maybe that’s more your speed? Like, there’s wraiths…”
“No.”
“What about Salem?” you asked.
“No.”
“Why not? Can I get some direction here?” You were basically pleading with him and he refused to throw you a bone.
“It’s stupid,” he explained, as he’d done several times before.
“They can’t all be stupid.”
He would beg to differ. “Clearly they can.”
You spent a while going through countless lists, proposing idea after idea as he shot each one down until finally you threw your hands in the air. “I give up, nameless it is, you’ve beaten me. For now at least, I’ll keep thinking about it, I’m sure we’ll figure it out eventually.”
He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a little smug about outlasting you. “Eventually? How long do you plan on staying?”
“Well, probably a bit longer but I’ll be back.”
“Again?”
“Yeah! You’re not getting rid of me that easily buddy, we’re friends now.”
That couldn’t be. He didn’t have friends, he was meant to be alone, not to have some little human kicking around his home. “That’s not how things work,” he said, it coming out a little poutier than he’d intended.
“Too bad, we’re friends now, nameless ghost buddy.”
He couldn’t find it within himself to be mad as you gave him a self-satisfied grin from the floor. If you wanted the two of you to be friends, who was he to stop you. However, that was the only reason he didn’t protest, placating you, he was sure of it.
You hadn’t lied that day, you did keep coming back. A few days rarely passed without you poking your head in every now and again. The questions never ended but they did slow, the two of you entering into an odd sort of rhythm.
When you entered the abandoned house once more, settled on the floor, and pulled a snack out of your bag, he was already used to the routine.
As you began to eat, you studied him, as you often did. He tried to stay corporeal for you as often as possible, you liked when you could see him. He could tell your eyes were tracing over his sharp teeth when your eyes suddenly widened and he looked at you, worried something was wrong.
Before he could ask if you were already, you had already begun speaking. “Shit, I should have offered you some food. Wait, can you eat?”
Oh, was that all? He wondered if you knew how badly your reaction had spooked him. He shrugged at your question, trying to move on quickly. “Not really, don’t need to.”
“Okay, you don’t need to, but can you?”
“I guess so.” What odd questions you asked him, how did you even come up with these?
You fished a handful of the crackers out of your bag and looked down at his hand expectantly, waiting until he held it out for you. Your hand was much smaller and softer than his, his hand long and spindly in comparison. You dropped the crackers into his palm and then stared.
He wasn’t used to eating. It was messier than it should have been. His mouth was made for self defense, for attacking nosy little humans if he needed to, not for little crackers shaped like fish. And yet, as soon as the taste hit his tongue he understood why his little human was seemingly so obsessed with these things.
They were incredible. Who knew humans could make something like this.
You gleaned his enjoyment as he took the little bag out of your hand. His reaction pulled little giggles from you as he inspected the food, eating all that you’d let him eat.
The next time you returned, your backpack was stuffed full once more. He watched you curiously as you settled down on the floor and began pulling things from inside and setting them in front of you.
“I brought more food for you to try!” you said, grinning up at him.
He learned a lot of things.
There were more types of food than he could have ever imagined. He had no idea how people came up with all these things. A few were natural, fruits grown on trees, but most were invented by your crafty little species.
Spicy foods overwhelmed him. He flickered in and out of existence for far too long after eating them, the burn almost inescapable. You couldn’t stop laughing at the sight and at the drama he brought to the situation. When you finally managed to cull the fits of laughter you’d given yourself hiccups.
He watched the small sounds escape you, seemingly against your will, as he paused his taste test. “What’s wrong with you?”
You snorted, at what he wasn’t sure. “They’re just hiccups, nothings wrong with me. There’s a bunch of wives tales about how to make them stop. I usually try drinking water upside down but there’s no couches in here to hang off of. You know,” you said between hiccups, “It’s kind of ironic, the most common cure for hiccups is being scared. Anyone else and you could probably fix them.”
In the past, the reminder that he’d been unable to scare you would have soured his mood but those days had long since passed. Not being able to scare you off had led to too many good memories for him to continue to be bitter about it.
He tries to fade out and then suddenly pop out at you, at least hoping to startle the hiccups out of you but that just induced another bout of giggles. He didn’t mind it, from you that was the reaction he’d come to prefer.
Chocolate was his favorite thing he’d tasted by far, he couldn’t get enough of the stuff, eating up all the candy bars you’d brough with you faster than you seemed to think was possible. You promised you’d bring him more next time you came.
As the taste test concluded and all the food had long since been eaten, you just laid on the floor next to him, putting off leaving. This was what your visits had become lately, tests of how long you could stay and putting off heading home until you had no other option than to head out to wherever it was you went when you weren’t with him.
“When you leave, where do you go?” he asked. He knew so little about your life outside of this room, you always managed to shift the subject away or mention shockingly little. For someone so fond of questions, you didn’t seem particularly keen on answering them.
However, lately you were a little more open with him, sharing a bit more each time. “Just the hotel I’m staying at. I was only supposed to be here a few days, just wanted to check this place out, see if I could find any ghosts. I got more than I bargained for, I guess.”
“You don’t have a home?” That seemed sad, even he had a home and he didn’t have much.
“I do, I just don’t go back there often. I can’t bring myself to sell it, keep telling myself some part of him must still be there.”
The sadness in your voice told him all he needed to know. “This person you lost, who were they?”
“My fiance. We’d been together five years and we were going to get married this last spring. And then… and then we weren’t anymore. Funny, how fast a wedding can get called off after you spend so long planning it.”
“I’m sorry.” He had no clue what to say. It was in moments like these that he wished that he had a little more experience with conversations, something he could pull from to actually help you.
“It’s alright, I’ve had a long time to come to terms with it. Haven’t been doing a great job of it, actually, both of our families think I’m nuts with the whole ghost thing but hey,” you gestured at him vaguely. “Seems like I wasn’t that far off base after all.”
“Yeah, you had the right idea.” He didn’t really think you did, you had thought he was dead after all, but it seemed to make you feel better and he didn’t want to ruin that.
Every time you showed up from that day forward you brought him chocolate. It was the first thing you did, you both ate as much of it as you could, although admittedly he could eat significantly more than you. You kept telling him that the gesture wasn’t entirely altruistic, that you loved the way he lit up when he ate it and that’s why you kept bringing it for him. He couldn’t help but fawn over you when you came, time and time again, with a bag full of chocolate to just sit there with him in the abandoned house.
Even the faux complaining, the kind he had done just for show, had faded out. You both knew it was pointless, that he wanted you here just as much as you wanted to keep coming.
Chocolates weren’t the only things you’d started bringing. At first it was just a blanket. Something to sit on, you’d said. However, the number of items you’d brought kept growing and soon there was evidence of your visits covering the house, top to bottom.
In your absence, he found himself nestling into some of the blankets you’d left behind,
This time you brought more pillows, some to sit on in the little nest of blankets he’d built up in your absence.
As soon as you got yourself situated you beckoned him over. “Come on, we both should be comfortable, there’s room in here for you too. I know you sleep in here when I’m not around, you don’t need to leave it just because I’m here.”
He didn’t know how to tell you the truth, that his little obsession with all the stuff you’d brought wasn’t for comfort, it was because it reminded him of you.
He settled down next to you, careful to maintain your personal space. As he sat cautiously next to you, you added, “Oh, by the way, I sold my house.”
You said it so casually but he felt like everything had stopped. “What?”
“I just, ghosts aren’t real, at least not my kind, and it was about time for me to move on and stop believing in ghost stories, you know? It’s scary, I have to find a new home now.”
He knew what he wanted to say, he wanted to beg you to stay, to tell you that he wanted you here.
Instead, he learned forwards and kissed you. He wasn’t sure what came over him, just some overwhelming urge and by then he couldn’t stop himself, forcing himself to solidify fully and leaning forwards before he could think.
You tasted like the chocolate you’d both been eating. He didn’t think it was possible to like the taste even more but here you were, just as sweet as he knew you’d be. His kind little human who kept coming back, who was too sweet to leave, of course he had to kiss you, how could he not?
It was messy. He was bigger than you and inexperienced and his form wasn’t exactly built for gentleness, or for kissing, with his big teeth and long tongue getting in the way and making it messier than it probably should have been. He wished he was built like you were, made to be sweet and gentle but he wasn’t, he was made to be frightening. That didn’t stop you from kissing him back, your soft little hands coming up to rest on the sides of his face.
Maybe he was dead because surely this was heaven.
And then, as quickly as you’d embraced him, you pulled back, drawing in a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, I should leave.”
No. Anything but that. That last thing he wanted was to scare you off now. “Wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”
“No, no, you didn’t do anything wrong,” you reassured him as you picked your bag up off the floor already rushing out. “I just… I just need to leave.”
And then he was alone again. He didn’t know how he’d managed this before, how he’d reveled in the quietness in this god forsaken house. With every hour that passed, he was more and more sure that you were never coming back, that he’d scared you off for good.
You’d asked him if he was lonely. Maybe he had been and he just hadn’t realized it. Maybe that’s what this absence you’d left was, he’d just never felt anything else before.
A full day later, when he’d already begun mourning you, his little human that he was sure he’d never hear from again, the door creaked. He was up in a second, praying it was you. If it was anyone else they were about to get the fright of their life, that was for sure.
But it wasn’t anybody else he came barrelling up to, it was his favorite little human. You came back and he was next to you instantly, apologizing in barely coherent strings of words while you struggled to calm him down. “Hey, you’re okay, I’m sorry I left, it isn’t your fault, I just kind of… panicked.”
Panicked? Had he made you panic? The idea filled him with dread, that was the last thing he ever wanted. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he managed.
You let out a little coo and he gathered that you thought what he’d said was sweet. “You didn’t scare me, I just needed time to think.”
You both seem uncertain how to proceed, a silence falling over the two of you. In the silence, he let his thoughts escape them. “I want you to stay here.”
“What?”
His instinct was to take it back, not to push and risk scaring you off again but couldn’t contain it anymore. “I want you to stay. You could live here with me and I could fix it up for you and that way you’re already here and you don’t have to travel all the way here all the time and you said you needed to find somewhere new to stay…”
“Hey, slow down,” you said with a laugh. “I’ve been looking at places near here so I could still visit so either way you’re not getting rid of me but are you sure you’d be okay with me staying here? If I stay, there’s going to be other people, it can’t just be me and you forever, I do want to have other friends.”
His heart dropped. “Oh. I might scare them off.”
“Please don’t.”
“Not on purpose,” he clarified.
“Oh. Well, if they’re scared of you just for existing then fuck them, as long as you play nice it’s fine.” Had he heard you right? You’d choose him over other humans, side with him in all this? You were still going on, already making plans. “We have to sort this place out, make it livable. And there will probably be people here to sort that all out..”
He nodded eagerly. Anything to keep you here with him. “But you’ll stay?”
You giggled and he felt like he was about to melt. “Yeah, I’ll stay. If I can, who even owns this place?”
“Some people come by sometimes talking about owning it and renovating it.”
“They do? Who?”
“I don’t know, we don’t normally chat.”
“Shit, okay, I just have to find them and buy it then! This place is a mess in the middle of nowhere, shouldn’t be too pricey, then we can fix it up together! God, getting electricity to this place is going to be a nightmare. And there’s no service, Jesus, how are we gonna figure that out…”
“Are you really going to stay?” The reality of the situation was washing over him, you were making plans to stay here, with him, permanently. He hadn’t scared you off, he was going to get to keep you.
His voice was soft and it pulled you right out of your little plans. “Yeah, of course I am.”
“I thought I ruined it, that you’d never come back.”
You got on the tips of your toes, reaching up towards his face and he leaned down to match you. The second he was in arms reach your hands rose to cup his face. “Listen to me, you did nothing wrong. I just needed some time to think, to sort through my emotions. The problem wasn’t that it was wrong, it was that it felt right and I didn’t know how to deal with that.”
It felt right? Did that mean… “So you liked it.”
You nodded and leaned forwards to give him a quick peck on the cheek. “Yeah, I did.”
It took a beat to process it all, for him to make sure he’d absolutely understood what you’d said. The second he was sure, he lurched forwards and crashed your mouth into his once more, your arms immediately wrapping around his neck, pulling him tighter towards you.
His kisses drifted away from your mouth, the sloppy desperate kisses moving down to your neck. He kept pulling back, to check if you were okay with this but you repeatedly pulled him back in, not wanting to lose this newfound closeness. His teeth ghosted over your skin and he pulled back once more, terrified of harming you, wanting to prove you weren’t in any danger, not with him. You didn’t seem to need the reassurance, your back arching up towards him.
As he dipped back down towards you he let his teeth brush against you again and a soft moan escaped your lips. That was interesting.
As he observed you, he could see you squeezing your thighs together, searching for any kind of stimulus and he just stared for a moment. He never thought someone’s thighs could be so hypnotizing but he could have stared at them all day, could have stared at any part of you all day. His inaction caused a whine to escape you, pleading for more of him.
He didn’t take much convincing, immediately pulling your pants down. You did your best to help kick them off, doing so as quickly as you could.
He could tell just from looking at your cunt that you were soaking wet for him. You seemed hesitant to be looked at there but all he could feel was awe, he couldn’t understand your apprehension, this was the best sight he’d ever seen.
His tongue lapped experimentally through your folds and your thrusted your hips up into his face. Chocolate was nothing compared to this, you were heaven. He wanted to taste you every day for the rest of his life, he felt like he could get drunk off of this.
His tongue snaked deeper, wanting more. Your pleasure was almost an unintended side effect at first, he just wanted more of you. But as your little whines escaped you, he grew more and more intent on inspiring more of them.
His tongue dove repeatedly into your cunt, desperate to taste more of you, pushing it as deep as it could get. He wanted to taste every inch of you. His gaping maw covered a significant portion of you, his teeth occasionally pushing into your lower stomach as he devoured you, pushing further and further, wanting to be as far inside of you as was possible.
He could feel you clench around him and he humped into the ground, desperate for the friction but refusing to leave you, his mouth glued to your cunt.
Eventually, you were the one to pull him away, although he couldn’t understand why. It had seemed like you were getting close.
“Want more,” you said, pulling him up towards you.
He obliged you almost reluctantly, not wanting to leave the taste of your cunt behind just yet. But there would be more time for that later, right now you needed him.
The size difference worried him a little, his fear of hurting you crossing his mind once more. You did not seem as concerned, pulling him towards you and gawking at his cock which you could finally see, now that he was no longer humping the ground.
“Holy shit.” You seemed taken aback by the size of him.
“Listen, if you don’t want to or think you can’t manage it, that's totally fine, we can…”
You looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “There is nothing I want more, I promise I can handle it just… please, I need you.”
He pushed inside you as gently as he could but still, the second his cock entered you, you let out a hiss. He stilled, letting you adjust, wanting to make sure he wasn’t pushing you too far. Eventually you settled and he pushed in further, managing little by little until he was fully seated inside you. You were clinging to him desperately like he was your lifeline.
The second he was inside you he felt like he might come. You were perfect, hugging tight around him. You pressed kisses into his chest as he did, and occasionally, when things got overwhelming, you bit him. You couldn’t hurt him, your small mouth filled with blunt teeth was no threat to the monster, but he loved how possessive it felt. He hoped it would leave a mark on him, that it would be proof he was yours.
He tried a small experimental thrust inside, a cry immediately leaving you as he did. It felt like you were strangling him and he knew you were already close, his hand snaking down to play with your clit as he thrusted inside, harder this time.
It didn’t take long for you to come, already brought to the edge by his tongue, but your orgasm didn’t stop his steadily increasing pace, chasing his own orgasm. You were clenching desperately around him, trying to milk him for all he was worth but he kept pushing.
“Too much,” you whined, grabbing at him.
He pulled you into his chest, one arm coming up to stroke your hair as he rutted into you. “You can take it, I know you can. You feel so good.”
You bit his shoulder hard as his thrusts increased in power, nearing his orgasm. That bite was what pushed him over the edge, pumping into you.
You winced as he pulled out. He imagined the sudden emptiness caused it the same way the lack of you around him made him let out a quiet hiss.
He watched his cum drip out of you and poked at it, pushing some back into you, earning an oversensitive whine from you that probably would have been more effective if it weren’t so cute.
He licked a long stripe up your cunt, tasting both of you together and he was ready to eat you out once more before you pulled him up.
Now it was his turn to whine but you quickly shushed him with a smile. “You gotta give me a little time first, okay? I’m exhausted.”
He understood immediately, pulling you into his side protectively as you relaxed. You curled up next to him in the makeshift nest he’d made in your absence and added, “The first thing we are getting for this place is a bed, okay?”
He nodded along. He would’ve agreed to anything you’d said right about now. Besides, he’d never slept in a bed before, it sounded exciting.
A sharp, toothy grin that he couldn’t suppress covered his face, imagingng it all. It was so different from everything he’d ever experienced but he didn’t mind it.
He’d had his fill of being alone.
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Post-Apocalypse + Soulmate AU ; requested by @burr-burr!
When Danny was a kid, he used to imagine how the world would end. It was never a zombie apocalypse or the fallout of a nuclear war, but the death of the sun, the expansion of their star in death that would swallow their planet whole, leaving no survivors.
It would have been nicer than the post-apocalyptic world he stands in now, knowing that it’s his fault the world has ended.
He’s still struggling to wrap his head around it. To understand that all of this is his fault because he cheated on one test, desperate to pass after being unable to study for it with how exhausting and time consuming fighting ghosts is. Everywhere he looks, there’s more destruction. His own home is rubble, with only the partially untouched Ops Center remaining to let him know that this is where he once lived.
The rest of Amity Park is in worse shape. Buildings are hollowed out, the skeletons of their foundations visible, if they still remain standing. Most homes have been burned to the ground, leaving blackened corners of walls and nothing else. The roads are cracked and difficult to walk through, as if an earthquake tore through the city. Cars are scattered along the road, overturned or left abandoned, doors still open.
Danny has yet to find any bodies. He doesn’t know if that’s a good sign or not.
He’s only caught a few glimpses of his future self, the cause of all this, and can’t bring himself to chase after that monster. He feels sick to his stomach knowing what he’ll become.
That monster has to be stopped. The world has already ended, but that doesn’t mean his future self can be allowed to go on like this. If there are any survivors, they need protection. They need to know they’ll be safe to try to start rebuilding, and that can only happen if his future self is dead.
Danny knows what he has to do; he has a responsibility to protect what little remains of Amity Park, and to do that, he needs to kill himself.
But his head it spinning from the horror of the situation and his throat is tightening up the way it only does when he’s about to have a panic attack.
He needs to stop his future self, but he also can’t stay another second in the ruins of Amity Park without destroying himself.
The guilt sits heavy in his chest as he goes ghost and takes to the sky, flying blindly towards the setting sun. Danny doesn’t know where he’s going, and he doesn’t really care. He just needs to get away for a bit, until he can calm down and put together a plan of attack so he can take out his future self in one go.
He just…
He never thought he’d be a monster. But here they are.
Flying away from Amity Park reveals the truly harrowing extent to which this world has suffered under his future self’s hands. There are no intact cities or towns. Roads are broken beyond repair, highways littered with empty cars, most bridges crumbling into the rivers below them, and everything is covered in overgrowth. All signs of humanity’s careful cultivation of the world has been erased. The earth takes back what humans took from it, covering everything in green.
There is no movement. No people. Barely any birds flying beneath him.
What remains of the world is silence.
Danny is terrified that there’s no one left. That his future self has so thoroughly destroyed the earth that no human survivors remain.
That gives his guidance, some idea of where to go: a big city. Any big city, really.
He flies lower, searching for some sort of landmark, or a sign that will tell him where he’s going. A rusted over green sign farther down the road tells him that he’s 50 miles from Gotham.
Oh, Danny thinks, Maybe Batman can help me.
If anyone could survive the end of the world, it would be the superheroes, right? If anyone stands a chance at defeating his future self, it would be a superhero. Superman might have been a better choice, but Metropolis is the opposite direction and multiple states away; Danny’s not sure he can make it before his future self catches wind of him and hunts him down.
Danny has no doubt about what would happen to him if he’s caught; there’s a reason he hasn’t seen any ghosts around, after all.
Gotham is a city of secrets and rumors. What little he’s heard of it is baffling and, frankly, insane. There’s no city in the country like it and Gothamites prefer it that way, stubbornly loving the home that will kill them. For all the manmade horrors they survive on the daily, they would be more prepared for the end of the world than anyone else.
Gotham may be another casualty of his future self’s destruction, but it also offers him hope.
Danny follows the broken road towards Gotham, pushing himself to fly faster than he ever has before. What should have been a half hour flight is completed in fifteen minutes.
As soon as the towering buildings of Gotham, dark and semi destroyed, come into view, Danny drops from the sky and returns to human form. The strain from pushing himself has exhausted him and he feels it like an ache in his chest, his heart twisting and trying to burst from how hard it’s beating.
He collapses to his hands and knees and gasps for breath on the outskirts of Gotham.
It takes a good few minutes to calm down and breathe normally, then another to gather his strength to stand up and begin walking.
The world is eerily quiet as he enters the city, feeling the chill fall upon him as he is consumed by the shadows of tall buildings. It’s much more intact that Amity Park, but there’s no denying the destruction that still surrounds him. Buildings are empty and worn down, decaying and slowly being consumed by new growth. Burnt out husks of overturned cars fill the street, leaving Danny to carefully pick his way around them, unable to walk in a straight line.
He feels like the only person in the world. He feels like he’s being watched by a hungry eyes.
Danny shivers and walks faster.
The deeper he goes into the city, the more he starts to hope that he’s not alone in this world. There’s small signs of life: the smell of smoke, recently burned, certain streets cleaned up, makeshift walls constructed from rubble to block access to certain areas of each block.
He swears he can see people move above his head, but anytime he looks up, the windows of every building are empty.
“Batman,” he whispers to himself, “I just need to find Batman.”
He turns a corner and continues walking. Apartment buildings give way to stores and businesses, all with their windows broken and nothing on the shelves. Then the buildings end abruptly and he’s left staring at an overgrown park that resembles a jungle more than it does a part of the city.
The scent of something sweet lingers in the air. Fruit, perhaps, or flowers.
If he was left in the aftermath of an apocalypse, he would go to where he could find growing food. If there’s anyone left in Gotham, he’s willing to bet they’re in here, surviving off of what food can be grown in the confines of the park.
Danny crosses the road and takes three steps onto the grass before someone appears beside him and points an electrified baton at him.
“Who are you?” they demand, eyes hidden behind a cracked helmet, but the bottom half of their face is visible, revealing scars crossing on dark skin.
Danny takes a step back, eyeing the electric baton warily, and lifts his hands to show he means no harm. “Danny. I came from out of town. I was hoping to find people here.”
“You don’t look like you’ve been traveling.”
His clothes are clean and intact and he has none of the world-weariness that weighs down this Gothamite. Danny winces, and says, “My situation is kinda complicated. But I did just get here. I’m looking for help, actually. Do you know where I could find Batman?”
There’s a long moment of tense silence, then he hears a quiet sigh and the helmet comes off. An exhausted looking man looks at him with one blind eye, turned a milky white, and his voice is low and stricken as he says, “Batman’s dead. But maybe I can help you.”
“Batman’s dead?!” Danny repeats, shocked.
“Yeah. Sacrificed himself in one of the last times Phantom attacked Gotham. Got me and Nightwing out of that encounter alive. We’re really the only heroes left in Gotham, not that there’s much need anymore with everyone trying to survive.”
Phantom killed Batman. His future self killed Batman.
Danny feels sick to his stomach.
“Oh,” he manages to say.
The man’s expression softens. “Don’t worry, we’ll help you as much as we can. Why don’t you come on in? Ivy can get you some food if you’re hungry.”
Danny nods numbly as he follows the man deeper into the park. He walks with ease, taking paths that only become visible when he walks them, leaving Danny to follow close behind. It takes some time before he realizes that the plants are moving out of their way just enough that they don’t trip, and when he looks back, the path is covered again, hidden from sight.
He’s taken to the heart of the forest, where the trees shift to the side to reveal a large encampment of survivors all living together. Beds are strung up as hammocks between trees and rope ladders dangle from branches to help people move up and down. The ground is full of small fire pits, a few in use to make make food, and sections in the back full of vegetable and herb patches, separated by berry bushes.
The people here all look tired and worn down, but they still smile and speak in light voices, adjusted to a new life after surviving so much horror and destruction. He even spots a few people using powers, or just looking different, including one large man who looks like a crocodile.
“Pick up another stray?” a raspy voice asks, humor lighting the tone. They both turn to see a woman with long red hair and a green tint to her skin be lowered to the ground by a vine. She’s also heavily scarred and her right arm is completely gone, replaced by a wooden limb covered in moss that moves as if it’s always been a part of her body.
“Hey Ivy,” the man greets, “I don’t think this one is staying. He came to Gotham looking for Batman.”
The words make Ivy’s gaze sharpen, and Danny feels a trickle of dread go down his spine. She’s dangerous and standing before her feels as if he’s in the mouth of a hungry beast.
“Is that so,” she says, voice flat. “How interesting. I’ll let you two talk somewhere more private.” Her gaze flicks to the side, and when Danny turns to look, he can see some of the people in the encampment observing them warily, bodies tense and poised to either flee or attack.
Ivy turns and the plants part for her. Danny waits for the man to begin walking before he follows, trying not to feel trapped as the plants close the path behind him. She takes them to a small pond full of water lilies, gives the man a careful look, then leaves, swallowed up by the plants.
“Is everything okay?” Danny asks hesitantly. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”
“Nah, you’re good,” the man replies, “It’s just that people don’t trust me much.”
“Why? You’ve been really nice.”
The man shrugs. “My soulmate is Phantom. He’s the one responsible for doing all this and killing almost everyone we love. I didn’t know until the first time I fought him, but they hate anything to do with Phantom, including me.”
Danny’s heart stutters in his chest. This is his soulmate.
Most people don’t subscribe to the belief that they’re meant to be with their soulmate. Meeting your soulmate is rare enough that most people don’t try, and plenty of people have spoken of how important it is to have a variety of relationships, to not close yourself off for the slightest chance of meeting your soulmate.
Danny never looked for his; he didn’t want to subject them to his parents, and then he became a halfa and gave up on all dreams of having a normal life or any relationship with someone who didn’t know he was Phantom.
And now he’s here, in a ruined future, standing before his soulmate who understandably hates him for destroying the world.
“You’re Phantom’s soulmate,” Danny breathes. His hands are shaking. He wants to cry.
The man sighs. “Yeah. I am. Not that it’s stopped him from trying to kill me. Don’t worry, kid, I’m not working with him. I swear.”
“He’s your soulmate and he hurt you.”
“He hurt everyone,” he says, then gestures at his blind eye. “This is barely a thing compared to what he did to other heroes.”
Danny can’t find the words to expression his horror at seeing the damage he did to his own soulmate. His future self is heartless and cruel and bloodthirsty. He has to be stopped.
He doesn’t want to kill his soulmate.
“I came here for Batman,” Danny says, “Because I thought he could help me stop Phantom.”
“That’s rough, kid. Batman couldn’t beat Phantom. I don’t think anyone can. We’ve tried, but most heroes are dead and we can’t just go out there and risk the lives of everyone here. We gotta focus on survival, not revenge.”
“I have to stop Phantom.”
“Sorry kid, but that’s a terrible idea. Don’t go out there trying to be a hero. You can stay here, alright? Ivy will get you set up and the others will help you settle in.”
Danny takes a step back and shakes his head. “No. I have to stop him. It has to be me.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I’m Phantom,” Danny whispers.
The man immediately reaches for his electric batons again, taking a step back. “Not funny, kid,” he says with a tense voice.
“I’m not joking. I am Phantom, just from the past. I’m not supposed to be here.”
“You’re Phantom?” the man repeats. “You. You’re just a kid, and you’re going to destroy the world one day?”
“I don’t want this to happen! That’s why I need to go back, so I can stop the event that will set me down this path. And to go back, I need to defeat the Phantom that exists here.”
“He’ll kill you, kid.”
“That still solves the problem, doesn’t it? If I die here, then he’ll never live long enough to destroy the world. He’ll die too.”
The man stares at him with cold eyes, then turns away, dropping his hands away from the batons. “Don’t turn this into a suicide mission, kid,” he says. “The Phantom who’s here isn’t you. You don’t have to pay for his crimes. Just… stay here and I’ll go fight Phantom.”
“He already hurt you,” Danny says.
“What’s a little more hurt? I can handle it.”
“No,” Danny says firmly. He shoves away the fear and hurt in his heart and finds his strength in determination. No more running away. No more hiding.
The timeline should not exist. He can’t hesitate at the thought of erasing this version of his soulmate from existence; he’s tired and injured and an outcast in the only community that still exists in Gotham. He deserves better. Everyone here does.
And to give them a better life, Danny needs to stop this one from ever happening.
“This is my future. It’s my responsibility. I’ll stop it and make sure this never happens. And… I’m sorry for everything I did.”
“It’s not your fault, Danny. You’re not this version of Phantom.”
That’s not at all true, since Danny’s actions lead to the end of the world, but he’s not going to argue when he’s preparing to fight a stronger, more ruthless version of himself. He takes a deep breath, then goes ghost and floats into the air.
“Before I go,” he begins, hesitantly, “What’s your name? Since you’re apparently my soulmate.”
The man smiles sadly and answers, “Duke. If we ever meet in your time, tell that version of me to look for my mom’s favorite book.”
It’s an odd request, but if it’s important enough to be asked for, then Danny will do it. “Your mom’s favorite book,” he repeats, “Got it.”
“Take care, Danny. Good luck out there.”
Danny nods and takes one last look at his soulmate, older and worn down, stubbornly getting through each long day, and swears to make things better.
Then he flies off, ready to fight his future self and make things right again.
.
.
.
He thinks of his soulmate for years after he’s back in the present. The timeline where his future self exists is gone and the world is safe, but he still remembers the pain he caused Duke.
When the time comes to apply to universities, Danny sets his sights on Gotham. His parents take him on a trip during spring break to tour the campus, and it’s after the tour, as he wanders around on his own, that he bumps into a student walking out of a building.
“Sorry,” they both say at the same time, reaching for each other to help each other keep their balance.
As soon as their hands meet, it’s as if lightning runs through him. From the look on the other guy’s face, he felt it to.
This is his soulmate.
“Duke,” Danny says, amazed and disbelieving all at once. And the request crosses his mind, something he wondered about almost every night since he returned to his time. “Look for your mom’s favorite book.”
“How—?”
“I met you in the future. You asked me to take back a message for the you that’s here. So: look for your mom’s favorite book. What does that mean, by the way? I never asked.”
Duke blinks, then slowly retracts his hands from Danny’s. “My mom’s favorite book was a hand bound journal from my dad. They were soulmates and he wrote about their first year in a relationship together. It’s full of pictures, and she loved it more than anything. That message is to remind me to have faith in soulmates, to believe that something good can happen to me.”
“Oh! That’s… wow, sorry, I didn’t mean to pry into something so personal.”
Duke shrugs. “It’s fine. I needed the reminder. I would have already run away by now if you didn’t say that. You already know my name, but I think now’s a good time to introduce ourselves.”
“Right!” Danny says, flustered. He sticks his hand out, which Duke shakes with an amused smile. “I’m Danny. Fenton. I’m coming here next semester.”
“Duke Thomas. I’m a freshman here and I’d really love to get your number.”
He’s not hitting on Danny, not really, but it still makes him blush. The way Duke looks at him is full of light and laughter, so different from the exhausted and wary way he looked in the future now rewritten.
This is what the future version of himself tried to kill. He doesn’t understand how anyone could ever hurt Duke when he’s so full of life.
But he’s safe now. Everyone is; Danny changed the future and what lies ahead is wholly unknown to him.
The world is safe and full of promise.
No matter what comes, Danny is sure he and Duke are going to be just fine.
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