Ash

They’d left the front door unlocked. With your sleeve pulled over your hand, you eased the door open, sweeping your flashlight once, twice over the entryway before stepping inside.

You’d had the misfortune of visiting twice before they left town – once when Carlisle asked you to drop off a patient’s file and again on a personal errand, to request that he stop sending flower bouquets and baked goods to your apartment. The first, you’d been unlucky enough to run into him, to be forced to answer his questions about your admittedly poor off-the-clock habits. The second, one of his college-aged daughters had answered the door, and had told you with the brightest smile and the easiest confidence that even if she did relay your message, it wasn’t going to stop. You’d taken her word for it.

Both visits had been brief, but as far as you could tell, they’d left everything behind. Framed pictures and frustratingly abstract art still hung from the blindly white walls, their agonizingly post-modernist furniture standing tall and unaffected by the absence of its users. A fruit bowl reigned proudly on their dining room table, its contents unnaturally fresh. Plastic, you discovered as you stole an apple off the top, turning it over in your palm. At least they had the decency not to leave rotting produce out for the next tenant.

You gravitated toward the kitchen on instinct, running your fingertips over the dustless countertop and opening cabinets at random. This had always been what Carlisle tried to draw you in with – the idea of domesticity, a warm meal after a long shift. Let me treat you to something, and then, when you reminded him that he was a married man, Don’t worry. My wife would love to have you for dinner.

Something caught in the back of your throat, anger and fear and humiliation boiling over all at once. You caught the handle of a drawer and tore it out of its socket, letting silverware clatter to the floor. The island was next, a knife block and baking tray and stack of forgotten paperback books, all swept to the ground before you could think better of it. You grabbed for the first heavy thing you saw – some decorative porcelain monstrosity, misshapen and heavy in your hand. It didn’t take long to find the nearest window, to line up your shot and—

Something wrapped around your wrist, cold stone against warm flesh. You startled, dropping the figurine and cringing into yourself as it broke into more pieces than you could ever hope to count. There was a slight hum, a disappointed click of the tongue. “That’s too bad,” he sighed, letting go of your wrist. Instantly, you could picture him clear as day – shaking his head, a faint smile tugging at pale lips. “That was one of Esme’s favorites. Brought it all the way from Spain. I’m sure she’ll forgive you, though.”

Clotted, choking silence followed dull ring of his voice. It took a moment for you to realize you were supposed to respond, and another to remember how to speak. “Dr. Cullen, I—”

“Carlisle, dear. You know that.” And then, less exasperated, more amused, “Aren’t you going to turn around?”

You shouldn’t have. You needed to get out of here. You needed to run. Fuck going home – you needed to get in your car and drive until you hit the border.

But, you didn’t. And honestly, you should’ve known you were never going to.

Fighting not to trip over your own feet, you did as you were told and turned to face him. You knew what you were going to find – Carlisle, pale blonde hair ever so slightly disheveled, expression sympathetic and unnervingly golden eyes so condescendingly soft.

The only part that caught you off-guard was the smudge of red at the corner of his lips, dark and still wet. Well, that, and the fact that he was naked. Naked and hard. You tried not to look, but it was hard to ignore.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, staring at him as the seconds crawled by. Carlisle didn’t seem to be in a rush, bringing a hand to your face and running his thumb over your cheek. His skin was deathly cold. You wished he would stop touching you. You wished you knew how to ask him to.

Eventually, something else caught his attention. He glanced over his shoulder as if someone had called his name, letting out a thin sigh as he took you by the wrist. “Children can be so impatient. I’m sure you know.” He tugged you forward gently. “Come. Please, excuse the mess – we’re usually much more civil.”

Without a word, you let him guide you deeper into the house, to a door underneath their staircase and down, down the largest cellar you’d ever seen. Like the rest of their terrible house, their basement seemed to have taken equal inspiration from overly manicured luxury real estate listings and the worst, most uncanny nightmare you’d ever had. The walls were lined with a deep red velvet, the furniture a mix of dark leather and cruel titanium. The only source of lighting came from a few lit torches mounted on each wall, all burnt too low to be helpful. That might explain why it took you so long to notice the rest of the Cullens.

Dotted around the room, divided yet so obviously part of the same whole, the same pack. Assigning names to faces was difficult, but not impossible. You recognized Jasper near the bottom of the staircase, kneeling in front of a metal pole with his hands cuffed behind it. A wire muzzle covered the lower half of his face, a chain-link slip leash wrapped taut around his neck. The other end was held by Alice, lying on her stomach in front of him, cheek resting against his thigh. Esme was lingering nearby, tending to a large crystal bowl sitting on a podium that’d been decisively placed in the center of the room, mixing herbs into its dark contents – a tray of which were politely being held by a towering Emmett. Finally, in the darkest corner, was Rosalie, wearing a floor-length black robe and keeping her arms crossed over her chest, all pursed lips and hunched shoulders. She might’ve looked bored, had those golden eyes not been so intensely focused on you.

…they were all looking at you, actually. Alice and Esme were smiling. Somehow, that didn’t make you feel any better.

Carlisle brought you to the bottom of the staircase, keeping one hand curled around your wrist and bringing the other to the small of your back. Alice was the first one to react, all-but floating to her feet and approaching her adoptive father. “I told you she would come.” She caught your arm, pointed nails digging into flesh. “Can we play with her, daddy? Please?”

Esme sent you an apologetic look. Emmett laughed and spoke up. “Don’t break the poor girl’s heart, daddy.”

You felt Carlisle’s hand flex against your back. He hesitated, but not for very long. “You’re sure it’s safe?”

“It’s all I’ve been watching for.” She tried to keep her voice even, but her over-eagerness betrayed her, lilting the edges of her tone into a melodic whine. “We won’t leave a scratch, I promise.”

“Fine. But be careful.”

“When are we ever not?” And then, without so much as glancing away from you, “Jasper, honey – fetch.”

There was a low, guttural sound, followed immediately by the sound of metal links being wrenched apart. Carlisle stepped away from you a moment before two arms wrapped around your waist.

It was the strangest thing. You were aware of your chest hitting the velvet-lined floor, of Jasper’s too-solid body on top of yours, but you weren’t scared. Dull confusion played underneath a thick curtain of placid curiosity and mild annoyance. You could only grimace as his wire muzzle pressed into your shoulder, then your spine, his tongue lapping over what his teeth couldn’t reach. He was draped over your back, hips bucking frantically into your thigh with enough force to draw out a pitchy, frustrated whine from somewhere deep in his throat. You were aware, distantly, that you ought to be clawing at him, that you ought to be terrified. The most you could manage to make yourself feel was pity, if only at seeing such a beautiful creature in such a sorry state.

“Dr. Cullen, I—” Jasper’s hands shot for your neck at the sound of your voice, but shoved into the floor at the last possible second. Something seemed to buckle beneath you – concrete shattering under unthinkable force. “I think I need to leave.”

Carlisle didn’t answer. Instead, there was a feather-light giggle, a hand suddenly petting through your hair. Alice. “But we’ve been waiting so long for this. Jazz, especially. Had to promise we wouldn’t let him take a bite out of you.” She straightened, eyes darting away. “Esme, could you bring over the—”

Rosalie cut in. “No. That’s too dangerous.”

“Don’t be a killjoy.” And then, a pleading lisp to her tone. “Please?”

There was a shuffle of movement, a silent acquiescence. Already, you could tell that what Alice wanted, she tended to get.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Esme kneel at your free side, a bronze goblet in her hand. She handed it to Alice, tapped Jasper’s cheek affectionately, then smiled at you. “It’s very fresh,” she said, like you were supposed to know what she was talking about. Like you were supposed to find it comforting. “You’ll get used to the taste, with time.”

You didn’t get a chance to ask what she meant. She was already retreating, joining her husband on the far side of the room. Even worse, Alice was already downing the goblet and, with just as much care, crashing her mouth into yours.

Heady iron and bitter herbs overwhelmed your senses. There was too much of it and it was too warm and whatever fugue state you were in broke open as soon as her tongue laved over yours, razor-sharp teeth gazing over your bottom lip and threatening to break skin. Her hand found the back of your head, keeping you pinned against her while its twin danced over your chest, your body, a single nail catching the collar of your skirt and tearing downward.

Cold air fanned over your skin, made worse by the trails of thick blood that escaped the corners of your mouth - staining your chin, your throat. You felt Jasper growl into your skin, his muzzle slotting awkwardly between your jaw and your shoulder. He was grabbing the rags your clothes had been reduced to, tearing them away in less of an effort to undress you and more of a pursuit to reach what he seemed to think he needed – a wolf, tearing at the entrails of an elk. You tried to shut your legs, to thrash underneath him, but Jasper’s body was stone, unwilling to give and impossible to move. It wasn’t long before you felt his cock press into your ass, something cold dripping onto your skin. You screamed, but the sound was swallowed up by Alice, still grinning against your lips. When she did draw back, it was only to string her thighs over your shoulders and force your head—

Her hands were torn away from you, her body disappearing a second later. When you thought to look up, you found Emmett standing above you, hands hooked underneath Alice’s arms. She pouted, but he held strong. “Nuh-uh. Me and Jasper have the first call.”

“But you picked a luck-based game, it wasn’t fair.”

“Life’s not fair.” He set Alice down at a measured distance. “Go keep Rose company.”

There were a few more grumbled complaints, but Alice eventually retreated to lick her wounds. Jasper bared his teeth, but Emmett only flicked his forehead. “Keep it in your pants.” And then, to you, “You ever been to Paris, baby?”

You hadn’t. Slowly, more confused than anything, you shook your head. Emmett’s laugh was nearly deafening.

It wasn’t until he started to kneel in front of you that you realized what he meant. The repulsion was quick and hot and reflexive, your body rejecting what your mind couldn’t seem to grasp. You opened your mouth, ready to scream, to beg, but Rosalie’s voice cut through the cellar before you had a chance to say anything at all.

“Not like that.”

Alice sighed. “It’s not going to take, Rose.”

“I didn’t ask,” she snapped. “Emmett, Jasper – switch.”

There was no protest from Emmett. Jasper bristled, his anger wordless and ferine, but Emmett was able to wrestle him into place, and you were only granted a few precious moments to brace yourself before Emmett’s hulking body settled between your thighs and Jasper fell to his knees in front of you, shaking hands tentatively latching on to your shoulders. Despite everything, you were grateful for the trade off. Jasper was incoherent – unable to talk, let alone think about your comfort, your pleasure. Emmett, as terrifying as he was, seemed more willing to drag this out, to rub a few teasing circles into your clit with a calloused thumb, to slip two thick fingers into you and smile when your body proved willing to give.

Something was wrong. A lot of things were wrong, really, but something was wrong with you. Blood coated the roof of your mouth, more viscous than it should’ve been. Your body felt too hot, your skin too thin, your head too full. You didn’t want this. You would’ve given anything to make it stop, and yet, as his fingers curled inside of you, you found yourself jolting back against him, a pained whimper bubbling up from your chest. You were wet. You could feel it dripping down your thighs, hear it was he pumped lazily into you. There was sound of padded footsteps, then something being laid down next to you. Alice, on her back, grinning up at Rosalie, now straddling her thigh – their cunts messily slotted together. Emmett didn’t so much as glance up, his gaze meeting yours as he pulled out of you and offered his slick-soaked fingers to Rosalie. Without a word, she took them into her mouth, eyes falling shut as she savored the taste.

“What do you think, babe? Is she ready?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“I love it when she gets mean,” Emmett sighed. His hand found its way to your hip, holding you steady as he aligned himself with your entrance. “You’ll learn to like it, too.”

Again, you made the mistake of opening your mouth, of trying to spit something out. At the same time, Emmett thrust into you, and a pained cry replaced anything you might’ve said.

In some sick way, you were almost glad for Rosalie’s interference. You were sure that, if Emmett hadn’t been trying to pound a hole in your cervix, he most definitely would have succeeded in breaking your jaw.

There was too much of him in too many places. Your legs gave out immediately, but he caught you – a broad arm wrapping around your midriff and hauling you against his chest. You gasped, but that only gave Jasper a chance to surge forward, to plant a palm next to your head and shove his cock past your lips, your teeth. The blunt head hit the back of your throat with more force than should’ve been possible, his shaft weighing cold and heavy against your tongue. You were tempted to, but you didn’t try to bite down. You had a feeling that the only thing you would manage to hurt was yourself.

They were both unbearable. Jasper, rutting against your face, chasing warmth that wasn’t his, and Emmett behind you, hips constantly flush to your ass, his smug grin pressed into the back of your shoulder as he did his best to tear you open from the inside out. Distantly, you could hear Alice and Rosalie next to you, a few pained whimpers as the latter curled her hands around her partner’s neck, but you couldn’t bring yourself to worry about what they might be doing to each other. All your pity was saved for yourself. It was humiliating – just how quickly your body gave out, just how many terrible, half-smothered noises they were able to force out of you. You felt yourself clench around Emmett’s unforgiving length, heard him curse and buckle against you. His mouth seemed to find the blood still dripping down your chin on instinct, and there was the faintest ghost of unnaturally pointed teeth before he jerked away, one hand finding your waist while the other planted itself on the back of your head, forcing Jasper that much deeper into your throat.

Abruptly, you remembered something another nurse had said to you not long after the Cullen’s first came to town, following Rosalie and Emmett’s first visit to the hospital during one of his less eventful shifts. She’d pulled you aside and admitted that, when Rosalie had first stepped into the lobby, your coworker had somehow mistaken her for a wildcat, nearly pressed the panic button before taking another look. When you asked her if she’d made the same mistake with the boy, all hulking muscle and eat-you-alive intensity, her smile had faltered.

“No,” she’d said, slowly. “That one’s obviously a bear.”

…

There was probably a reason Carlisle had liked you, looking back on it. You were always the last to run from danger.

His pace changed, sped up. Your back arched as he railed into you, Jasper grinding into your mouth with just as much ferocity. Jasper slipped first – something too chilling and too sweet to have ever come from anything human flooded over your tongue, down your throat, mingling with blood and spit where you failed to choke it down. Cruelly, Emmett chose that exact moment to let a hand fall to your clit, to tip you over the ledge you were clinging to so desperately. You came around him as he pumped you full of the same terrible, ice-cold venom. You could practically hear Rosalie purring in delight.

Emmett didn’t pull out. You felt his palm against the back of your neck, his body brace above yours as he pinned you down and started to—

“That’s enough, son.”

Emmett didn’t whine, didn’t protest. He remained silent, still, and Alice groaned next to you. “But we haven’t even—”

“Patience, Alice.” Jasper and Emmett drew back, letting Carlisle pull you into his arms. You weren’t proud of the way you clung to him, but you didn’t have another choice. When your only other option was a pack of wild animals, even a hunter could seem like a comfort. “You’ll get what you’ve asked for.”

You hid your face in his shoulders as he carried you to a velveteen lounge, Esme perched delicately on the arm. She stroked the side of your face gingerly as Carlisle sat down. “I do worry, sometimes,” he sighed, rearranging you to better straddle his lap. “They can be so careless.”

“They have good hearts,” Esme countered. Behind you, Rosalie’s hold on Alice’s neck tightened until her skin splintered, cracks spreading in all directions like fractured stone. “And they love so fiercely.”

The blunt head of his cock pressed into your entrance. With a painstaking sort of tenderness, he guided you downward, spearing you on his length. There was no attempt at resistance on your part. Only a miserable whimper, dampened by his skin, and your nails driven into his back. “I want to go home.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you will.” Esme’s voice was soft, sweet. You would’ve given anything for the strength to scream loud enough to drown it out. “The boys built such a lovely cottage. It’s only a few minutes away, and you’ll just adore the—”

“I think she can worry about that tomorrow, dear.” You felt him pulse inside of you, his smile settling against the dip of your shoulder.

—you sound surprised.

—nah, just figured you’d have gone home by now —he walked over and dropped onto the couch beside you and his eyes immediately landed on your face—. something wrong? —and there it was: that question, the same question he always asked and the same question leo hadn’t asked in weeks.

—i’m okay —you shrugged.

—you got that look —he crosses his arms.

—what look?

—the one where you’re pretending you’re okay.

—thanks, doctor —you couldn’t help but smile a little.

—yeah, yeah —he nudged your shoulder—, but seriously —his expression softened—, a guy can tell when his friend ain’t doing great.

friend

that’s what you were supposed to be: just friends. and yet raph somehow remembered everything, when you had a bad day, when you were tired, when you skipped lunch, when you seemed upset…he always noticed.

so later that night, when you finally decided to leave, raph immediately stood up.

—i’ll walk you home.

—you don’t have to.

—it’s dark.

—raph…

—it’s dark.

—i’ve walked home alone before —you rolled your eyes.

—yeah, and i’ve worried every single time —he grabbed your jacket—. come on.

and just like always, he walked beside you the entire way making sure you stayed on the safer streets, keeping an eye on every alley, and waiting until you unlocked your front door.

—text me when you’re inside.

—you literally watched me unlock the door.

—text me anyway.

—goodnight, raph —you laughed.

—night —his expression softened slightly.

he waited until the door closed before finally leaving and he always did that, every single time. and meanwhile leo couldn’t even answer a text.

⸻

the argument started three days later and you weren’t there to hear it, but if you had been, everything would’ve changed.

leo was in the dojo, as usual; the sound of his katana slicing through the air echoed through the room again and again.

—do you ever stop?

leo lowered his sword and looked towards raph, who stood in the doorway, already annoyed, which wasn’t unusual.

—what do you want?

—what i want? —raph scoffed—. maybe for you to spend five damn minutes with your girlfriend.

—this isn’t your business —leo’s eyes narrowed.

—the hell it isn’t —raph stepped forward—. she’s miserable, leo.

—don’t tell me how she feels.

—someone’s gotta —he said and the dojo suddenly felt smaller.

—i know what i’m doing —leo set his sword aside.

—really? —raph laughed humourlessly.

—yes.

—because from where i’m standing, you’re screwing this up.

—careful —leo’s jaw tightened.

—but it’s true —raph pointed toward the exit—, she waits around for you every day, every fucking day. and what do you do? train, meditate, leave and repeat.

—i’m protecting my family —leo’s expression darkened.

—yeah? —raph shot back— well maybe start protecting the girl you’re dating too.

there was a tense and dangerous silence after raph said that.

—watch it.

—why? —raph crossed his arms—. because i’m right?

—because you don’t understand.

—i understand plenty —raph’s voice rose—, i understand that she deserves someone who actually makes time for her.

—enough —leo stepped forward.

—she deserves better than this.

—enough! —the shout echoed through the dojo and for a moment neither moved, then leo laughed but there was no amusement in it—. i get it now.

—what? —raph frowned.

—you’re jealous.

—what?

—you’re jealous she’s with me —raph stared but leo continued—, this isn’t about protecting her or me being busy. you’re just mad because i’m the one dating her.

the silence that followed was deafening and for the first time raph didn’t deny his feelings.

—maybe i am —raph’s jaw clenched and his fists tightened.

—what? —leo blinked because apparently that hadn’t been the answer he expected.

—i said maybe i am —raph took another step forward—, because every time she sits alone waiting for you, i’m there; every time she’s upset, i’m there, every time she needs someone, i’m there —his voice grew sharper—. when she walks home at night? i’m there. when she’s having a bad day? i’m there. and when she needs somebody to actually listen? i’m there —leo stared at him, speechless while raph’s chest rose and fell—. so yeah, maybe i am jealous, because she deserves somebody who actually treats her like she’s important.

—she is important—leo’s face hardened.

—then start acting like it.

—don’t tell me how to love her.

—love her? —raph barked out a bitter laugh—. you barely spend any time with her!

—i’m doing what i have to do!

—no! —raph shouted— you’re doing what’s easiest! —the room fell silent again and now raph looked furious—, if she was my girlfriend…—he stopped himself.

—nah, go on —leo’s eyes narrowed.

—if she was my girlfriend…—raph clenched his jaw—, i’d make time, i’d answer her texts, i’d actually show up when i said i would —his voice lowered—, i’d make sure she knew she mattered.

leo stared at him for a long second, and then finally spoke.

—so that’s it.

raph didn’t answer just because he didn’t have to; now leo could see it: every late-night walk home, every worried glance, every protective gesture, every moment raph had spent looking after you…it wasn’t just friendship and judging by the look on raph’s face… maybe it hadn’t been for a very long time.

— ⚔️🐢🗯️❤️—

A sort of heaviness loomed inside your lungs when you touched the handle, so cold and frigid. But with your clothes utterly drenched, body shivering from the cold, you knew you couldn’t stay here or seek refuge in the car, hoping for the best.

Once you stepped foot inside the hotel, a sense of unease draped over you. An unbelievably cold, prickling sensation caressed your skin, and if you listened close enough, you could hear the haunting melody of laughter.

It was strangely empty, with no person in sight, staff or otherwise. Yet the lights were on, only flickering whenever lightning struck. For a moment, you think it's abandoned.

The silence was eerie, the haunting melody of laughter mixed in with the wind, so quiet, so indecipherable against the storm screaming just outside the building. You paid no mind to it, dismissing it to the rampage of the thunderstorm.

The lobby was empty, frightfully so. Yet the lights were on, only flickering whenever lightning struck. You were slow and careful in your steps as you approached the front, tense as if someone would pop out at any moment. The area was spacious, with warm lighting, doused in maroon and what appeared to be mahogany.

Much too expensive for you. Truly a wonder why there wasn’t a single person in sight, staff or otherwise.

You walked up to the counter, a soft and cautious “hello?” leaving your lips, craning your neck to catch any sight of life, backpack heavy on your shoulders. A cold breeze, almost akin to a human breath, brushes against your cheek. You whip your head in that direction, expecting to find a person, but what you see instead is a key. There’s a number attached to it.

609

That wasn’t there before.

Despite the alarming sense of danger ringing in your mind, you took it. Your clothes stuck to your skin, water dripping off of you, and you were freezing. You couldn’t wait this out in your car, and with luck, perhaps there was hot water here. A hot shower sounds fantastic right now. You repeated reassurances in your mind, breathing in deep before approaching the elevator.

The room was nice. Wonderful. Spacious. A very nice queen-sized bed with matching nightstands, draped in the same colors as the lobby. Warm light caressed the room, and a secluded yet comfortable atmosphere emanated from it. Oddly, no windows in here or anywhere on this floor, just mirrors and antique-looking objects.

The bathroom was also a bit odd, mirrors upon mirrors, your form accounted for from every angle. An interesting design choice, but you couldn’t complain.

The room was great, but the bath? Even better. After scrubbing away everything that made you feel filthy, you set up a nice, relaxing hot bath. You could feel your stress melting away; the exhaustion crept into your eyes as you sank deep into a sense of comfort and tranquility. It wasn’t long before you slipped into unconsciousness, surrounded by warmth.

You “dream” of cold hands touching you—groping you, running their hands all over your naked body. You’re shrouded in darkness, yet you feel everything. They fondle your breasts with a rough sort of desperation, pinching and tweaking your nipple while the others pawed and grabbed at your ass and thighs.

Their freezing hands were a stark contrast to the warmth of the water, and you shuddered from the sensation. Your clit practically begged for attention as the ghostly hands danced around it, so you did, caressing it gently.

The phantom hands moved to hook your legs over the edge of the tub, spreading you open before parting your lips and sliding two thick fingers into your aching cunt. You moaned at the feeling of their rough fingers stretching you open, slowly pumping in and out of you as they continued to squeeze and grab your breasts.

You gripped the edge of the bathtub as you rubbed your clit faster, they moving in tandem, matching your pace. You could also feel a sense of amusement from the phantoms of your dream—amusement in your reactions. You chased your peak to get that delicious bliss of pure ecstasy.

You could feel it—feel it in the trembling of your legs and the pounding of your heart, pleasure rising. Close, closer, until—

You wake up with a start, water swishing as you sit up, panting. The phantom hands disappear along with your dream, leaving your pussy aching, throbbing. You’re confused, mind muddled, heart still pounding, blood buzzing underneath your skin.

It was odd enough that you were having a wet dream in a place like this, but stranger still, how vivid it was. You still feel the tingle of where they touched you, the sense of loss from their fingers inside you, and the frustration of a failed orgasm. It was jarring.

You try to shake it off, getting out of the tub and wrapping a towel around you. You reach for the clothes you left by the sink, but they’re not there. You must’ve left them on the bed. The mirrors are foggy; it takes you a minute to realize something is in the condensation.

H E L L O

With a multitude of handprints smeared on the surface. Your heart drops.

You feel something prod at your slit, still hot and pulsing from your supposed dream. You jolt, looking around frantically, clutching your towel, only to be met with nothing. The air shifts, and the fog on the mirror clears up from the sudden drop in temperature.

You feel phantom hands caressing your cunt, rubbing your sensitive bud with its rough fingers. You take a step back, trying to comprehend what was happening, yet all you feel is the throbbing of your swollen clit as it continues to stroke and caress your cunt.

Haze clouds your mind; your skin burns, and you can’t even move. Next thing you know, you’re being lifted in the air, hands holding the back of your thighs before plunging its cock into your dripping pussy, a choked gasp falling from your lips. Your shocked eyes meet yours in the mirror, a haze of lust in the depths.

You don’t get time to process seeing yourself lifted off the ground, floating, nor the sensation of its cock filling your cunt. It starts rutting up into you, slamming you down on its fat cock with vigor. Your hands grip its invisible shoulders to keep you steady, helpless in its grasp as fucks you, cock so deep inside you it has you already shaking from pleasure.

The mirrors capture every angle of your pussy getting ruthlessly fucked, invisible cock splitting and stretching you open. Wet sounds fill the bathroom, and your moans get louder as you near the ecstasy you tried to reach earlier. Your walls flutter around it as you—

Its seed spurts inside you before you reach it.

It stays settled inside you for a moment, then slips out, green goo covered its cock, the same goo leaking out of your hole. The sight turns you on more than you’d like to admit, pussy clenching around nothing as your body begs more and more.

You feel yourself getting transferred to, what you can only assume is, another phantom—hands replacing the other, indents in your skin as it spreads you a little wider, something blunt prodding at you once more.

Perhaps you should be a little more opposed to what is happening, but when you feel hands spread your cheeks and another cock prodding at your ass, all you do is buzz in anticipation.

It’s not long before they both sink into you from both ends, cock slipping into your cunt easily, while the other takes more time to work you open. They both seem to fall into a rhythm, pumping in and out of you with an increasingly brutish pace, whimpers and moans falling out from your lips.

You feel stretched to the brim, your gaze falling to the reflections in the mirrors, watching as your holes get fucked open over and over again, pussy drooling around its girthy cock.

They fuck you so deeply, hitting all the right spots as they continue to ram into you roughly. The pleasure is almost overwhelming as you feel the heat building again, begging for your invisible assailants to finally let you cum.

It’s not long before you fall over, cumming hard with a scream, whole body shaking from the pleasure. Their movements turn wild, phantom hands digging into your skin as they thrust into you more fiercely, more deeply before cumming inside you.

You pant, still shaking from the aftershocks of bliss, as the haze slowly lifts from your mind. The phantoms drop you carelessly, and you harshly hit the ground. Your skin stings, yes, but you focus more on the green goo dribbling out of your cunt.

You touch it; it’s warm in contrast to their cold presence. Sticky. It clings to your fingers. It tastes sour.

The storm had calmed; you don’t know how much, considering there were no windows on this floor, but from what you were able to hear, perhaps you could leave. Though you would be walking out of here with a limp.

You keep thinking back to the feeling of getting fucked by those two ghosts, momentarily thinking you imagined it, but that feeling of overwhelming pleasure (and the sting it left you with after) proved to you it was pretty real. Deep in your mind, you wanted it to happen again—wanted to be used as a toy for their pleasure, the very thought had you pressing your thighs together.

You pushed those thoughts aside, trying to brush them off (although it was proving difficult to do so).

The elevator, like everything in this hotel, was spacious and dressed in the same colors as your room. The elevator ride wasn’t long, or it wasn’t supposed to be. Coming up, it was quite short; however, going down, it seemed pretty long. The air had grown a little chillier, goose bumps rising on your skin.

The elevator finally stopped, and the doors opened to reveal… the wrong floor. You scrunched your brows in confusion, a soft “what the…” leaving your lips. Maybe this was to be expected, considering this hotel was haunted (with strangely horny ghosts).

The thought had your heart beat picking up, silently hoping the ghost would pay you another mind-bending visit. The doors shortly closed on their own, continuing its path to the lobby. You hesitantly shrugged it off, hoping the ride would be over soon.

The familiar feeling of cold hands brushes against your breasts, almost tentative. It squeezes your breasts, pinching and pulling, and you see the imprints of its hands through your shirt. The elevator dings once more, and another pair of hands joins in, stroking your already wet cunt, playing with your clit, teasingly slow. You rock your hips for more, growing desperate for some friction.

The elevator continues down, doors opening at every floor and letting more in. You feel a stiffening cock grining against your ass, and you let it. Soon, they have you on all fours, hands grabbing everywhere as they shove their cock into your drooling pussy, pounding into you almost immediately.

Something blunt presses at your lips, and you open wide for it, welcoming it into your mouth. You waste no time, swirling your tongue at its tip and sucking.

The phantoms are pretty eager to thrust their cocks into you, stuffing you full from all sides as another fills your ass. They fuck you with no care, nor remorse, using you as their fleshlight as if they hadn’t had something pretty to stuff their cocks into in weeks.

Your needy whines and moans are muffled by the one stuffing your mouth, hand gripping your hair as you gag around it, spit dribbling down your chin. The elevator keeps moving, ghosts trading places once they finish inside you, having you cumming over and over on their cocks, swallowing down every drop of their seed as another fucks your mouth.

Your invisible assailants pass you around, mind fizzling from the amount of pleasure you’re experiencing as they continue to plunge their cocks in your ass and cunt over and over again, abusing your poor holes until you‘re reduced into nothing but a fucked out mess.

You don’t notice when the elevator opens its door to the lobby, only to shut it closed again, going even farther down. You’re too busy piecing yourself back together once they finish with you—limbs weak and trembling, panting and exhausted, their cum leaking out your holes, absolutely filled to the brim.

Your consciousness wanes and fizzles before you slump to the ground, passed out.

When you awaken, the first thing you notice is… you. Your reflection gazing back at you. More mirrors? You’re lying in an unfamiliar bed, hands cuffed and tied to the ends. A faint giggle echoes around the room, your eyes flit about looking for the source, but it’s too dark to see anything.

Your head is still fuzzy, and your limbs feel heavy; you can’t even struggle against the restraints. Goosebumps rise on your skin from the cold; your nipples perk in the air. It’s only then that you realize that you’re naked, clothes nowhere to be found. You expected to feel gross, to see crusted ghostly cum all over you, but it seemed almost as if you were wiped clean.

How long were you out?

You hear soft murmurs in the dark, making you feel fuzzy and dazed as if something was luring you under a spell. Soft hands caress your supple flesh, grabbing at the fat of your stomach, grabbing at the fat of your hips, as more joined. Hands, hands, hands—always touching, playing with you, dragging around your body. As if trained, your body can’t help but want more.

They play with the heat between your thighs, these touches much more gentle than the ones you’ve come to know. You hear voices—soft, sultry voices—promise to be gentle, promise to be better than “those brutes” from before.

You’re legs are already spread wide apart, cuffs tight on your ankles, keeping you unable to resist even if you wanted to. But with the sweet whispers in the dark along with the delicious sensations their hands bring, you don’t think you mind much.

Something warm and wet trails across your breasts, sucking and swirling around your nipples, drawing delicate and hushed moans from your throat. Another finds its way to your clit, lapping and working its mouth on your pussy, making you pliant and needy.

It’s slow and sensual, bucking your hips as each drag of their tongue whining for more, just a bit. They lap at your cunt, savoring the juices before sinking two fingers into you. They take their time bringing you to the edge, making sure you feel pleasure in slow, steady pumps—a stark contrast to the previous ghosts, who were quick and harsh, eager.

Plush lips meet your own, fitting against yours easily, and you make no move to reject them. Perhaps a bit too eager to reciprocate, to keep your mouth busy as you rise to the edge. With a particularly hard suck on your clit, you fall over, crumbling in the ghost’s mouth with a wanton cry.

The phantoms coo at your reaction, praising you for being such a “good girl”. The ghosts pull away for a moment before they’re on you again. Loosening a restraint to lift your leg, grinding your cunt against theirs, clits bumping and rubbing together, desperation has you moving your hips in tandem. The friction as you arch your back, small stars popping behind your eyes.

Another has occupied your mouth, sitting on your face as you eat her out, straining against the cuffs as she rocks her hips, moaning into them. Their juices cover the lower half of your face as you try to drink it all up, sliding your tongue between the phantom’s folds as you tremble from the pleasure the other brings you.

You suck and you lick, desperate to feel their release on your tongue, possibly feel it shoot into your mouth. Their motions get a bit rougher, faster as you whimper and moan underneath them, pulling at your hair, nails digging into skin. You’re practically suffocating, but you don’t mind, feeling yourself teetering on the edge once more.

A hand strikes against your ass, it stings, but it just turns you on more. Another smack as you burst, cumming hard with a muffled scream, legs trembling as they fuck you through it. Juices flood your tongue as you do your best to swallow every drop, eyes threatening to roll in the back of your head.

They wait as you come down, twitching every so often until your mind finally clears. For a moment, you think that’s the end of it. You thought wrong; they let you recover just to start it all over again. Fucking you with their fingers, eating you out, gagging you as they play with your pretty cunt. Their demeaning yet sweet giggles and words echo in your ears as they bring you to new heights over and over again.

You don’t know how many days passed until they finally let you go. You stumble out of the hotel doors, with weak legs, thinking, perhaps, you should come again sometime soon.

​

Ghost couple! Who follows you around the house, even to the bathroom, because they are so obsessed with you. They will sit on the counter and toilet lid just to watch you relax in your bath. They may also help make sure you are relaxed by the man playing with your clit while you're leaning back. The woman sitting on the counter is playing with her own because she loves watching.

Ghost Couple! Who is able to interact with objects, not just you. They offer to help you cum after hiding your toys from you. They just want to be helpful, you know. They know how stressed you can get. Ghost couple! Where the husband puts you on your back, making it so that the wife can sit on your face. If someone told you that you’d be eating ghost pussy while getting a ghost dick at the same time, 8 months ago, you’d think they were insane.

Ghost couple! Who uses you whenever you finally cross that line of sexual tension? They obviously know your boundaries, they are ACTUAL monsters <3

​

~ You’re at the mall to go look at some new jewelry and clothes. You obviously let your friendly ghost roomies come with you. One headphone in, so you can talk to them and not look crazy. Making it to one of your favorite stores, you go to the back to look at the shoes and find a pair you want, the downside is the pair is on the top :/ The only worker on the clock is injured and can't climb the ladder, so she reluctantly agrees to let you get up there after saying you're in somewhat of a rush.

Going up the ladder to get the shoes wasn't a struggle in any way; the only issue you had was realizing you “forgot” to wear panties under the pretty little skirt you put on this morning. After getting the shoe and getting down, you try to talk to the worker, but she looks a little stiff and can't get herself to meet your eyes. Only then do you realize you just flashed her, the ghosts, and everyone else who was near your area in the store.

​

After buying the shoes, you leave for the next one. A darker store, leaning more into alternative styles, and even has a sex section in the back ( the place you think it is :P ). You buy some cute nipple covers, a pretty collar and leash, and finally make your way to the wall of more sensual toys. Although they were silent for most of the trip so far, they gave opinions on this stop.

​

“Oooh, you should get the one with two dicks!” “No, hun, the one with the bunny ears looks better. You know, something simple isn't bad.” “How about you get a few things?”

​

Oh, how glad you are that you saved up for this mall trip. None of you could decide on one or two toys, so you walked out with multiple. ~

​

Ghost couple! Who helped you pick out a red bunny vibe, a remote control vibrator with a “part” that goes in you and a spot to play with your pretty clit, an under the bed restraint set so they can keep you held down and play with you till your sensitive and crying, and finally some red and black handcuffs to use whenever you're not in the room and they don't want you to push them away.​

Ghost couple! Who can't help but tell you how pretty your pussy looked from the angle below in the shoe store. How they can't wait to play with you and make you a sensitive baby for them.

Ghost couple! Who can’t wait for you to get to the changing room in the new clothing store. They get you to go to the back, saying they found something they think you’d love. Lies, well..not completely. You were met with them dragging you behind a shelf and both kissing you. Your shoulders, neck, pulling your shirt and bra down to let your pretty tits out.

Ghost couple! Who gropes on your chest, leaving hickies everywhere as they follow with their mouths. You’re thankful the store isn’t busy, although you doubt that would make them stop and think, even if a hundred others were in here.

​

Ghost couple! Where the husband makes you get on your knees and get his dick wet while his wife is crouched beside you playing with your pussy, whispering how good you are for them

​

“Keep it quiet, baby, I know you wouldn’t hate to be seen, but you don’t wanna get in trouble, do you?” “You’re so wet for us pretty.” “Does it feel good? Huh? Do you like how my fingers feel teasing your perfect little hole?”

​

Ghost couple! who makes you stand up, spread your legs, and puts your hands on the shelf in front of you, keeping you balanced while you lean a bit so the wife can get your tighter hole wet and ready with her soft tongue. God, do you love it when one of them tastes you.

Ghost couple! who switches spots where the husband is using your ass and the wife is crouched in front of you, shorts and panties down with her shirt off ( perks of being invisible to everyone but you ), rubbing her clit in circles while her mouth is on your pussy.

Ghost couple! Who uses you until you ALL cum. Husband filling your ass up, grinding against you with a low groan and a hand around you, squeezing your boob. Wife dripping onto the floor from how hard her orgasm was, moaning into your quivering pussy about how good you taste and how beautiful you look above her, all while your release is running down her jaw. You're coming down from your high, sensitive in both holes, a mess dripping down your legs.

​

Ghost couple! Where the husband makes the wife eat his cum out of your ass, making even more of a mess and you more sensitive from how sore the hole was already. You feel her tongue going in and out, her kissing around the used hole, and her fingers sneaking back up to your pussy to play with you a little more. Husband who tells you to look to your side, just to see a few bystanders with their hands in their pants, basically bursting at the seams from the lewd sight in front of them. A girl making a mess.. Seemingly by herself without even touching.

​

His monster dick is the best thing that ever happened to your pussy. You’ve never experienced something like it. You aren’t sure you have words to describe it, even. He loves to wrap his wings around you while he fucks you, his whole body wrapped around yours in the warmest of embraces. He fucks you all night long. His dick buried so deep inside of you, his shaft rubbing against his G-spot at every little movement, sending sparks of pleasure up your spine until your thighs can’t stop shaking, and he chuckles in your ear, your utter debauchery is peak comedy to him.

And every once in a while, you enjoy a little rendezvous in the garden. Or anywhere semi-public where the threat of being caught is enough to drive him a little bit wilder, and to get you a little bit wetter. Your heartbeats matched in the cadence of sex while you gasp for breath at every thrust of his hips. To the point that you lose track of time. So much so that you are completely lost in pleasure when the sun starts to rise. Well, to be fair, you were so wrapped into each other that you forgot there was something that would put an end to the garden debauchery.

The second the sun breaks the horizon, your gargoyle boyfriend blinks a total of two times, his mouth open in the middle of an orgasm before he lets out a choked breath and his body freezes over yours. His dick is buried so deep inside you can feel it against your pleasure points. You try to move, but he’s… struck. The sun is up and your gargoyle boyfriend is right inside of you. In the middle of the garden. And he’s going to be frozen there for the next seven to eight hours (luckily for you, it’s still winter).

At first, you are just resting there, but then you roll your hips a little bit and gasp. You can feel him so deep inside, and the ridges on his dick still feel so good… You wonder if you could cum by just moving your hips slightly. A few moments later you discover that the answer to that question is yes. Not only you can come, but it feels incredibly good to be squeezing around his hard as stone (pun intended again) dick.