#ghost vi

the woods were quieter than you remembered.

back when you were small enough to fit on your dad’s shoulders, this place always buzzed — birds cutting through morning fog, river water laughing over rocks, cicadas screaming like they owned the whole world., and laughters of kids playing frisbee.

now it just breathed. silence.

you pulled your knees up to your chest as you sat on the cliff overlooking the lake, the same spot your dad used to take you whenever life felt too big. he’d point at the rippling water and say, “see that, kiddo? even when the world is loud, this place listens.”

you weren’t with him when it happened. there was a school trip and he just so happened to be at the woods.

the massacre turned the whole area into a ghost story no one wanted to retell. dozens gone. no bodies found. no answers. the police stopped caring years ago.

but you never had, you couldn’t.

your fingers curled into the grass, head bowed as the ache in your throat cracked open for the first time in months. the softest, broken little sob slipped out before you could stop it.

“i miss you,” you whispered into your hands, voice shaking. “sorry i stopped coming here for awhile, dad.”

you didn’t expect an answer.

you definitely didn’t expect a hand to settle gently on your shoulder. cold but not freezing

you jerked around, breath catching — and she was standing behind you.

a girl. around your age. maybe a bit older. cropped dark red hair, shaved on one side, freckles dusted across sharp cheekbones. she was built like she could knock someone out with a single punch, but her expression was soft. almost apologetic.

and she was translucent. faint light haloing around her edges like she wasn’t fully there.

your mouth fell open. “oh my god…”

“not exactly,” the girl said, “but close enough.”

you scrambled backwards on your palms, but she lifted her hands slowly.

“hey, hey. i’m not gonna hurt ya.”

you swallowed hard, “you’re… you’re a —”

“ghost?” she finished for you. “yeah. been dead a while. kind of a long story.”

she hesitated. “my name’s vi.”

vi. the name hit you like something familiar — like you’d heard someone mention it back when the murders were still being talked about.

she rubbed the back of her neck, her hand phasing faintly through strands of glowing hair. “you’re here a lot.”

you blinked. “i— this is my first day coming back after like 2 years…”

“yeah well,” she said. “i’ve seen you here before too. when you were little…while i was playing frisbee with my pals”

your stomach sank. “yeah..i think i saw you too before..? my dad used to bring me here. he was part of the group that died here and uh he never came home.”

vi’s expression shifted — pain flickering across her translucent pale blue eyes.

“yeah,” she murmured. “i remember him. he tried to help people. he didn’t deserve what happened.”

your chest tightened. “do you know what happened?”

she looked away, jaw clenching.

“i know enough,” she said quietly.

the wind rolled through the trees, bending branches toward the two of you as if even the forest was listening.

you slowly sat back down on the cliff, your heartbeat finally easing out of panic.

vi hesitated, like she wasn’t sure she was allowed before lowering herself beside you. she didn’t make the grass move. didn’t make a sound. but somehow it still felt like she was there.

“there are a lot of us,” she said softly. “ghosts, i mean. some still angry. some confused. some are just…there. but,”

her eyes flicked to you, “i remember everything.”

you hugged your knees tighter. “and you’re not angry?”

“i was,” vi admitted. “for a long time. but then i kept seeing you come back here, even when you were scared. you talked to the lake like it was waitin to answer.”

your cheeks warmed. “i didn’t know anyone was watching.”

“didn’t mean to freak you out.” her smile was small, crooked. “guess i got attached.”

despite her being partially transparent, she felt solid in a strange way.

“you don’t scare me,” you finally said.

her brows lifted slightly, “most people run.”

“i’m not most people,” you whispered.

a soft laugh slipped from her, brief but real. then you noticed something — a faint flicker in her form, like a candle in wind.

“are you okay?” you asked quietly.

“i’m fine,” she said automatically, then sighed. “ghosts drain faster when we talk too much. takes energy to stay visible.”

you swallowed. “you don’t have to stay on my account—”

“i want to.”

her voice, her expression, the way she looked at you — it all felt like someone reaching out from a world you thought was long gone.

vi glanced at the lake below the cliff,

“come back tomorrow?” she asked, softer than before. “i… i’d like to tell you what happened. all of it. i-if you want to hear.”

you didn’t even hesitate, “i’ll be here.”

vi’s shoulders relaxed and she smiled, “good,” she murmured. “i’ve been waiting for someone to listen.”

her hand ghosted over your shoulder again. then she walked back into the forest, and faded slowly, her outline dissolving into drifting light until nothing of her was left. you exhaled.

you’d come here to mourn your father, but now you weren’t sure what you were leaving with.

you came back the next morning.

you didn’t even pretend it was for closure — you practically ran down the familiar dirt path, breath fogging in the cool air, heart pounding like you were late for something important.

the lake below the cliff shimmered in pale light, the surface smooth as glass.

you sat and waited. picked at the moss on the rock beneath your feet.

you weren’t sure if she’d come back. maybe ghosts didn’t keep promises. maybe she’d already—

then a faint cold breath brushed the side of your neck.

“didn’t think you’d actually show.”

her voice drifted from behind you — calm, trying to sound casual, but there was something hovering under it, almost shy. you turned.

she was there. more solid than yesterday, edges less flickery, light pulsing faintly around her.

“i said i would,” you breathed.

vi shrugged, eyes darting away. “yeah well, some people say a lot of things.”

you tried not to smile. “i’m not some people, remember?”

her translucent cheeks warmed — the ghost version of a blush, a faint pink glow under the skin.

“guess not,” she murmured. she lowered herself beside you again, cross legged this time, but awkward — like she was suddenly aware of her limbs. her knee almost touched yours, stopped, then shifted closer.

GHOST RULE #1: you’re not supposed to feel them

“you look…clearer today,” you said.

she huffed a tiny laugh. “i practiced.”

“practiced?”

vi picked at the air like she had a nervous habit she didn’t quite remember. “takes effort to stay visible. the more energy i use, the dimmer i get. but if i focus on one person, it’s easier.”

“and you’re focusing on me?” your voice came out softer than you intended.

her shoulders tensed — she looked like she wanted to deny it, then deflated. “yeah,” she muttered. “you’re uh easy to stay around.”

you didn’t know why, but you lifted your hand, letting your fingers hover near hers.

“can i…?”

her eyes widened. like no one had asked to touch her in years. maybe decades.

her voice cracked just slightly, “you can try.”

you slid your hand into hers and she felt real.

not human-warm, not solid-solid, but there. cool, soft pressure curling around your fingers. like touching water that held shape.

vi inhaled sharply — even ghosts seemed to breathe when overwhelmed.

“holy shit,” she whispered. “you can actually feel me.”

your thumb brushed lightly over the back of her hand, and her whole form flickered, not from fading — from fluster.

“does this hurt?” you murmured.

“no,” she said quickly. “no it’s- it’s good. just…sensitive.”

you swallowed. “sensitive?”

her gaze darted away. “ghost nerves are all…amplified. most people can’t touch us at all. you can. and i’m not used to it.” you squeezed her hand gently.

GHOST RULE #2: they remember how they died

after a minute, she relaxed enough to talk again.

“you wanted to know what happened,” vi said quietly.

you nodded as she stared at the lake, her fingers still loosely curled around yours like she didn’t want to let go.

“there was a group,” she began. “my friends. we used this forest as a meetup spot. stupid teen shit — camping, drinking, telling stories, just playing around.”

“your dad was there?” you whispered.

“yeah. he found us when we were lost. tried to help. stayed with us when things went bad.”

“what happened to you?” you asked softly.

her jaw worked, pain tugging at her expression.

“something.. um,” she murmured. “i- i don’t know, really.” her voice cracked. “we weren’t the first group, and we weren’t the last. your dad was tryna get us all out when it—”

you moved without thinking, placing your free hand gently over hers. “you don’t have to push yourself.”

vi swallowed. you could almost see the tension draining from her shoulders.

“thank you,” she whispered.

her fingers shifted, curling more tightly between yours. ghost touch growing warmer, denser, like she was focusing all her energy into the connection.

GHOST RULE #3 : they can’t stop watching the living

“you keep coming back,” vi said after a moment, tone quieter. “not a lot of people return to this place twice or more.”

“yeah cause i’m not scared,” you said.

“you should be.” there was no threat in her voice. only worry.

“are there other ghosts like you?” you asked.

“not like me,” she said. “most don’t talk. some don’t think. some scare humans for shits n’giggles. some…feed on emotions.”

you stiffened, “are you feeding on me?”

her eyes went wide, scandalised, “no!”

she reached out instinctively — her cold hand touching your wrist, firm, grounding.

“i don’t take anything from you. i just… feel better when you’re here. the admission came out small. terribly honest.

your voice softened. “i feel better when you’re here too.” her form flickered again like a heartbeat.

“you’re gonna make me fade from embarrassmentttt,” she muttered, ears glowing pink.

you bit your lip, smiling. “so you can blush too huh?”

“don’t,” she warned weakly.

you traced her knuckles with your thumb. she made a sound, a soft one. almost like a whimper she didn’t mean to let escape.

“…that wasn’t—” she began.

“it’s okay,” you said gently.

her whole body shimmered, like she was overheating despite being dead.

“ghosts are… touch starved,” she mumbled. “it’s been years since anyone held my hand.”

you squeezed her fingers, “then we’ll fix that.”

oh she was absolutely subby, absolutely flustered, absolutely not used to someone choosing her.

and she kept staring at your joined hands like she couldn’t believe she was allowed to have this.

after a long moment, she said “come to the lake with me tomorrow?”

you lifted your brows. “the lake?”

“yeah. it’s quiet there, safer. i want to show you something.”

“you’ll…be able to stay visible?”

her cheeks glowed faintly again. “if it’s you, yeah. i can hold it.”

you brushed your fingers along the inside of her wrist, an experiment.

she shuddered. so cute.

“i’ll come,” you whispered.

vi’s lips curled into a small, shy smile. “good,” she murmured. “i- i like it when you touch me.”

you didn’t even have time to react before she realised what she said and flickered hard, fading in embarrassment.

“shit! f- ignore that, i didn’t—”

“vi, baby,” you said softly, leaning closer, “i’m not ignoring it.”

her eyes went wide.

then she disappeared in a burst of glowing particles, the ghost ver of running away.

you laughed under your breath, touching the empty air where her hand had been.

the next day you wore the bikini. your dad would’ve had a heart attack if he could see you in it — tiny black top, strings tied in little bows over your hips, nothing left to the imagination.

you were dressing for the ghost girl who blushed every time you so much as touched her hand. you moved towards to cliff and vi was already there. floating a few inches off the ground without realising, legs folded under her, hair glowing faint in the shade. she looked more solid today, almost human except for the way the light curved around her.

when she saw you, she jolted.

literally.

she glitched mid air like someone unplugged her for a split second, “h- hi,” she stammered, voice cracking. “you, uh you’re wearin that.”

you grinned. “you told me to come to the lake.”

“i didn’t think you’d—”

her eyes dropped to your chest, then your hips, then your thighs dripping sun.

you walked right to the cliff edge. “you said you wanted to show me something…hm?” you teased softly.

“i did,” she whispered, still staring at you like you were heat her cold hands could finally touch. “but i…can’t think right now.”

you looked down the cliff — water sparkling like a dare. bold, stupid and fun. a sign nailed into the rock read: NO JUMPING.

you smirked, “hey, vi?”

she tore her gaze from your chest. “yeah?”

you stepped backwards, then sprinted forward.

“wait what are you—”

and jumped.

the air ripped past you, stomach dropping, lake rising fast—

“NO!”

cold arms slammed around your waist, stopping your fall like gravity forgot how to work. your back collided with a solid chest, cool and firm and shaking.

she caught you. in mid air. she was floating and so were you. so you screamed,

“BABY I— VI WHAT THE?!”

your legs kicked helplessly in open air.

“i TOLD you not to jump!” vi shouted back, voice cracking in panic. ghost panic. “jesus, don’t EVER. i thought, fuck—”

she was holding you bridal style, face pressed into your shoulder like she needed to calm down. you clung to her neck, trembling.

“vi, you’re- you’re FLYING! and i’m—”

“yeah, sorry,” she muttered, still breathless. “ghost thing, instinct. i didn’t wanna let you fall.”

“i was trying to fall, vi! splash in the water, have fun!”

she pulled back, eyes blazing with something between fear and anger and something much, much deeper.

“don’t do that. not here. not where i—” her voice broke, “not where i died.”

your chest softened, “oh vi, okay… i- i’m sorry.”

she was still holding you like you weighed nothing. and then very slowly, your nose brushed hers. “you’re…really close,” she whispered.

“you caught me,” you whispered back. “kinda your fault.”

her eyes fell to your lips and lingered she shook, “i’ve never kissed anyone,” she mumbled.

“then start with me.”

“i- i—”

“vi.”

her form flickered like a heartbeat again. you cupped her cheek and her lips met yours.

it was gentle at first, cold and warm at the same time, like kissing fog that could melt. but then she made a sound. a soft, needy whimper right into your mouth and suddenly she wasn’t gentle at all.

her hand slid to the back of your head while your body pressed fully against her in open air. she kissed like she’d been waiting years. like she’d died wanting this. her mouth opened against yours, clumsy, hungry, desperate.

you pulled back just slightly, “breathe, vi.”

“i don’t have to,” she murmured, dazed. “but i think you’re making me forget how anyway.”

she blinked, focus dropping to your mouth again — then lower.

“can we…can we go back to the cliff?” she asked softly, voice trembling. “i want- i want you close. i want to— i don’t know, under you?”

subby. an instinctive, ghost level submission.

she set you down on the cliff edge, her feet never quite touching the ground as her body hovering between kneeling and floating.

the moment she saw you sit, bikini bottom stretching over your thighs, she swallowed hard, eyes blown wide.

“you’re…beautiful,” she whispered, voice barely holding steady. “i don’t- i don’t know what you’ll let me do.”

you spread your legs just a little and her whole form flickered.

“come here, vi.”

she floated forward until she was kneeling between your thighs, cold hands ghosting up the outside of them — not quite touching, scared to break the spell.

“you can touch me,” you whispered. her fingers brushed your skin. and you gasped but she gasped harder.

“holy— you’re warm,” she breathed. “you’re alive!”

“no shit?! babyy,” you giggled.

her hands trembled as they slid up to your hips, thumbs stroking the dips where your bones rose under skin.

and then she dipped her head. “vi—”

“please,” she whispered against your inner thigh, voice shaking so hard she could barely get the word out, “i…i want it. i want to taste you so so bad.”

your breath left you entirely, “okay.. then don’t wait.”

her mouth found you, cold lips. warm tongue. delirious hunger.

she moaned the moment she tasted you — loud, needy, almost frantic — her whole ghost form flaring brighter with every movement. you threw your head back, fingers tangling in her short hair. “fuck, vi!”

she whimpered into you. her hands clamped onto your thighs, holding you open as she ate you out with a desperation that didn’t belong to the living.

her tongue moved fast, sloppy and eager. like she didn’t know the rules, like she wasn’t holding back anything at all. and her nose rubbed on your clit every time her tongue flicked your hole.

her whole body drifted upward without meaning to, hovering between your legs, suspended in air purely by need.

“sweetheart,” you gasped, “you’re- you’re floating! mmh”

she didn’t stop, she didn’t even hear you.

she was too lost in you — shaking, glowing, moaning against your soaked swimsuit like she’d been starving for decades.

you pushed the bikini to the side and she choked on her own breath when she finally had full access.

“oh, oh fuck oh god—” vi whispered, voice dissolving, “your taste, i can’t! i can’t—” you cupped the back of her head.

“don’t you dare stop! hugh, god”

she didn’t.

she dove deeper, tongue pushing inside you, nose bumping your clit, breath cold and delicious against every wet inch of you.

your thighs were already trembling when vi’s tongue pushed deeper — cold pressure sliding inside you, her lips sucking at your clit.

her form flickered again. and again and again. “baby, hey you’re fading, mmph!”

“don’t care,” she gasped into you. “just- j’lemme have you.”

her fingers, barely solid, slipped between your legs and somehow, impossibly, pushed and curled inside you.

they weren’t fully physical, more like thick, cold pressure filling you slow, sinking into you in a way no living hand ever could.

you cried out and the forest stirred. leaves rustled. shadows rippled. far off whispers rose like the woods itself was turning its head toward the cliff.

vi froze. her glow flared, panicked — then possessive.

“ignore them,” she whispered fiercely, pushing her tongue back onto your clit, fingers curling inside you. “they can’t have you. they can’t touch you. you’re mine right now.”

“please,” her voice cracked, desperate, pleading, “please come for me! i want to feel it, make me feel you”

you grabbed her hair and pulled her up just enough that your foreheads touched. her eyes glowed violently bright. so beautiful.

and you kissed her — hard, shaking, tasting yourself on her mouth. and she whimpered into it, fingers thrusting up into you as her tongue stroked your lip. you broke the kiss with a gasp. and then you came.

not small, not quiet.

a full body shuddering climax that nearly dragged her down with you.

vi cried out when it hit — her body bursting into bright light, arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you tight to her as your orgasm ripped through you.

she felt it. every pulse and every spasm.

her form flickered violently, unstable and overwhelmed, her forehead buried in your collarbone as your legs wrapped around her floating body.

when it finally eased, she sagged against you, breathing hard though she didn’t need air.

“holy shit,” she whispered, voice ragged. “i’ve never- that—”

you stroked her hair, “you’re okay.”

she shook her head weakly. “no. not okay. you- you ruined me. i’d haunt you forever if you let me.”

you smiled, still trembling, “maybe i want you to.”

her glow steadied — soft, warm, almost human.

she kissed your shoulder. your neck, your jaw. then her lips hovered over yours.

“tomorrow,” she whispered. “come back, i’m not done with you.”

you tugged her closer, “i’ll be here.”