Rainy Days

Roving Blade

Pirate Captain!Jake X Siren!Reader

Warnings: Slight violence, minor swearing, the usual piratey nonsense, minor sexual implications, will add more tags for future chapters

CHAPTER 2

These pirates were a lot nicer than the ones you had seen and heard of before, you had to admit. They made a large tank for you, big enough for you to fully stretch out in, and made sure to keep you well fed once they realized you could eat meat and fish. Jake kept you in his cabin, away from the prying eyes of any he didn’t trust with the knowledge of your existence.

You still would rather NOT be on this ship at all, but it could’ve been worse, you supposed.

Captain Kiszka, or Jake, as you soon heard him be called, was fascinated with you, even more so than the rest of the crew. He’d spend hours trying to communicate with you, despite the warnings from (who you assumed were) his brothers. Especially the one who shared his face; he seemed especially wary of you.

You weren’t intentionally dangerous, to your defense. It’s just in your nature to go after pirates and sailors, with them being common on the seas and usually causing a ruckus. Again, though, this one was… different. He was still dangerous and proud, as all pirates seemed to be, but he held a certain curiosity and eagerness to learn about the world, not conquer it.

Today was the same as usual, with Jake feeding you and taking notes in his journal about your habits. You’ve grown used to this, having given up on trying to understand his human writing. You may somewhat understand their spoken language, but that didn’t extend to writing.

“Can you eat things other than meat and fish?” Jake asked, tossing another fish into your tank for you to eat. You opened your mouth to show him your teeth, shaking your head. Your teeth were razor sharp, stained pink from years of eating things full of blood and meat. Jake observed your gesture, scribbling furiously in his journal. You had once tried to eat the kelp at the sea floor, curious about it. All it did was make you sick and offer no nutrients to you, so you’ve not tried it again.

“Interesting…” He muttered, tucking the journal away to look at your appearance again. This is also something he does a lot. He’ll simply stare, as if trying to engrave every detail of you into his mind. Part of you was annoyed that he wouldn’t let you go, and that he seemed so obsessed, but the other part of you was glad he seemingly had no interest in selling or killing you.

You finished off the fish, tossing the bones to the bottom of your tank and laid back on the sand that covered the cold glass at the bottom of it. Your tail shimmered in the sunlight that came in from the small porthole windows in Jake’s cabin. He stared at your scales as you eventually drifted off into a short nap.

——

Jake had been doing research any chance he got. Sometimes that meant asking the old sailors and other pirates he was friendly with about the tales of merfolk and sirens, other times it meant stealing books from homes and libraries in port towns. One thing that continually showed up was that the scales of a mermaid held magic in it that protected its holder from harm.

In some old stories, it mentioned lovestruck mermaids offering them to sailors they fancied, other times it told of sailors stealing them from the mermaids and wearing them as a trophy. He considered himself better than a common thief, but knew that there’d be no way he’d get a scale willingly from the one he captured and imprisoned.

When talking about the much more aggressive version of mermaids, aka Sirens, there wasn’t much in the way of positives about them. They were said to be bloodthirsty tricksters, using their voice to lure sailors to jump ship into their waters, where they stood no chance against the razor sharp teeth and quick reflexes of the creature. Some say sirens are the spirits of women thrown overboard, causing them to be vengeful to any sailor man they see. Others claim they’re like animals, seeking out their preferred prey, humans.

He thought back to the night he first heard it sing, remembering how close he was to doing just that. Did this creature simply want to eat him? Did it only see him as food, or a threat that needed to be taken out? Jake shook his head. It didn’t matter; it’s not like it could attack him now, being stuck aboard his ship in a tank. He eyed the scales again before turning away and heading out to the deck of the ship.

He couldn’t think about that now, he had a ship to run and a crew to manage.

——

You couldn’t figure out what this pirate wanted with you. A trophy? Research? It’s been three months, and he’s not done anything like selling you or try to even harm you. Neither did the few others he let come in to feed you or talk to him as you watched. He’s stopped scribbling in that journal so much, you noticed. Maybe it was full? Or maybe he couldn’t learn anything else about you?

So then why did he keep you around?

——

The seas were rough one morning as they sailed from the shores out to the wider parts of the sea. They kept watch, knowing these parts held far more enemies for them; other pirates, the navy, large whales and squid, and who knows what else. If Merfolk were real, who knows what else was real?

Jake was itching for something to happen, having gotten too settled down during the three months they stayed close to the shores. They had waited out some of the rougher months, but the seas still had their fair share of rough days. Today was no exception, rain pouring down and a heavy fog settling over the water. Sam was on lookout above, his eyes much better than anyone else’s.

“Captain! There’s a ship out on the starboard side, about 3 knots away I’d say. It’s flying a red flag, so I, uh, don’t think they’re friendly. Should we ready the canons and guns?” Sam shouted down to Jake, looking concerned. They had a formidable crew, but they still preferred not to fight other pirates if they had to.

Jake made a quick decision. “Ready the canons, raise the flag! If they attack, we attack ten-fold! Ready men?” His voice was loud and proud over the sound of the rain and waves, commanding his crew like he had for years.

Jake grinned as he unsheathed his sword and stood on deck, finally seeing the ship appear from the fog. It’s been too long since he’s had a good fight…

——

The sound of fighting soon appeared over the noise of the waves and weather, the booms of the canons and guns alongside the clang of swords and the shouts of both crews. You curled up at the bottom of your tank, frightened of what might happen if the other crew were to find you. You didn’t really care if the one you were on sank; you could get out of the tank rather easily and you’d be home free. But this crew had been nicer to you than most probably would be.

It felt like hours until you heard cheers of success, followed by boots approaching Jake’s cabin. You were sort of relieved it was actually Jake who walked through the door, drenched and spattered with blood, but looking victorious. He held a worn map within his grasp, grinning as he set it on his desk. He tore off his jacket, hanging it over the chair at the desk before stripping his other clothes.

You had to admit, he was handsome for a human. He was soft in some places, and muscled in others. One long scar stretched across his chest, from his shoulder to just below his ribs. You wish you could ask about it, curious of what battle that must have come from. He had a nice amount of body hair, without being too hairy like so many pirates and sailors were. You had seen him use something to trim up the hair on his face, so maybe he did the same for his body? Speaking of his body…

He was strong and sturdy, no doubt about that. But there was some softness to him too. His hips were rounder, along with his chest. Looking lower, his thighs were thick and powerful, and what hung between them seemed the same. You had seen him undress before, but usually in the dim candlelight at night, not midday.

Jake redressed, now wearing dry and (somewhat) cleaner clothes than before. Finally, he sat at his desk, opening the map. He seemed confused after a moment, looking at it from multiple angles. After but a few minutes, he stood and retrieved a book from across the room, setting it down on the desk and flipping through the pages. With each page, Jake looked more and more annoyed, as if he wasn’t finding what he wanted to.

You craned your neck, looking at the map from your tank, and were surprised to recognize the writing on the edge of it as one you could read. It seemed to be written in a language only spoken in Europe, one being forgotten with each day that passes. Despite the distance, you squinted and read the words before tapping on the glass of your tank. Jake whirled around, confused. You never try to communicate with him; it’s always the other way around.

“You… You want to tell me something?” He asks. You nod and gesture over to the map, his eyes following the movement. “The map?”

Slowly, he grabbed it off the desk, eager to be finally having a sort-of conversation with you. You tapped the glass again, asking him to hold it up. He did so, and you finally got a good look at the words. For the first time since you had enchanted him that night months ago, you breached the water of your tank and spoke to him.

“ ‘Near Santa Cruz, nestled amongst its fellow islands, lies a cavern that leads to a treasure beyond any that’s ever been found. Know that if you wish to find this treasure, you must be willing to take the risk of the curse that lies with it. No other has found this treasure and lived to tell of it besides I, Captain Christopher Turpin. May you be luckier than the others who followed my path.’ That’s what it says,” You say, looking over the edge of your tank into his eyes.

“Treasure? A cave out by Santa Cruz? This is all so much to take in… And you can speak my language? I, well, I had assumed you couldn’t since you hadn’t until now,” Jake paced back and forth, so many questions in his mind. “I’ve heard of Captain Turpin. They said he disappeared somewhere in South America with his fortune and retired years ago. If true, he should still be alive, and not too old to answer my questions…”

Jake suddenly pulled out his own map, charting out a course to South America. You tilted your head to the side, watching him curiously. Maybe if you work with this pirate, you could barter your freedom with him… It was worth a try.

Hiiii hello!! How on earth do you draw Danny so well? I cannot get him to look like himself to save my life 😭

Josh is so easy, but Danny?? A mystery to me

that looks like him!!!!!! you did it!

i am not a teacher by any means but these are a few things i always keep in mind when drawing danny:

his eyebrows are boomerangs fr. theyre much more arched and come in further than any kiszka eyebrow does lol

his face is pretty short and very angular and the widows peak is a MUST

practice drawing his profile a lot because his nose is the star of the show ALWAYS and it looks p different depending on the angle

his canines are sharp and he doesnt have very full lips at all and hes always kinda rocking a smirk so keep the mouth pointy

Mornings Like These | Jake Kiszka x GN!Reader

Warnings: none, pure fluff || Words: 716

You and jake share a quiet morning together.

-

You blinked the sleep from your eyes, rolling over to see Jake still bundled up in the covers, his long dark hair askew. You sighed, letting a gentle smile spread across your face. You sat up, peering towards the large window adjacent to your shared bed, the sun streaming in, casting a soft glow against the features of the room.

These were your favorite kinds of mornings, when you wake up before Jake and can watch the way the stress fades from his face as he sleeps. He was always so stressed about the tour, wanting it to be perfect, and you appreciated the moments where he could be calm, quiet, and let the lines relax from his face.

Moments pass, and you relish in the peace of the morning, while Jake starts to shift. Turning over, he gives you a lazy smile, eyes half lidded, feature soft. “G’morning beautiful.” He mumbles before lifting up to place a sweet kiss on your lips. You rest your palm against his cheek, “Morning baby, what do you want to do today?” you ask, keeping your voice soft to break the quiet ambience of the morning. He flops back onto his pillows, letting out a hum, “How about… We stay in bed, and you let me hold you.” He says, before moving to bury his face in your neck, you let out a surprised laugh at the soft kisses he leaves there, loving the way his arms feel around your waist.

"Well, if that’s what you really want,” You giggle out, wrapping your arms around him, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. You lay there, holding each other for who knows how long, savoring the feeling of being in each other's arms.

The quiet morning is ruined by a loud grumble from Jake’s stomach, forcing laughter from the both of you. You sit up, pushing your hair into somewhat of a cohesive style, before stretching until you get a satisfying pop from your back. You sigh, casting a glance at Jake, who's buried himself under the covers again. You pat the man-shaped lump in the bed as you stand, “C’mon babe, I’ll make you breakfast,” You say, leaving the room and walking towards the kitchen. Jake followed close behind, not bothering to fix his behead.

He flops down onto a chair at the kitchen table, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. You rummage around the kitchen, grabbing two bowls from the cabinet, pouring the cereal and filling the bowl with milk. You cross, placing Jake’s bowl in front of him, “Your favorite, my specialty, Cinnamon toast crunch,” you laugh, sitting down in your own chair across from him. You watch as he loads an obscene amount of cereal onto his spoon, shoveling it into his mouth all at once. “This is great babe,” He says, words garbled from the food, milk dripping down his chin. You scoff at him, wrinkling your nose at his habits, “Ew, Jake.” You laugh, before taking your own bite, he pulls a face at you, making you snort, effectively shooting cereal milk out of your nose.

You laugh, coughing and sputtering on the meal, trying to catch your breath as Jake cackles at you. “You should’ve seen your face!” He squeals between laughs, he slams his hand down on the table as he calms down. “Sorry, that was great, y/n, truly.” He cries, wiping fake tears from his eyes. You shake your head at him, wiping the stray milk from your face.

You grimace, “Cinnamon toast crunch doesn’t taste as good when it’s coming out your nose,” this causes Jake to start laughing all over again, you ignore him and finish your cereal before it kills you.

As Jake eats, you reach your hand across the table, feeling his hand slide into yours. “I love mornings like these,” you say, looking at him with all the adoration you can muster, hoping your expression get across your true feelings. “I love them, almost as much as I love you,” He says, smile cheesy and full of joy. You purse your lips at him, “you’re such a sap,”

“I guess that's why you stick around, huh?”

You roll your eyes at his dad joke, you’ll never get tired of mornings like these

When the luxury passenger ship you were on wrecked and pirates came to scavenge it, you thought you would be left for dead, or worse.

Instead, Captain Jake Kiszka himself took you aboard his ship, rescuing you from what would've been a watery grave.

"Well, Darling, what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't rescue a pretty thing like you?"

The Lovers, The Dreamers, And Us || Josh kiszka x F!reader

Warnings: recreational drug use

Pure fluff, crack treated seriously tbh

wc: 1.7k

-

Josh had invited you over for a night in with him and the boys.

You knew what that meant. Getting high off their fancy, expensive weed, and getting loose with each other while step brothers plays on the large screen in the background. Ten minutes after getting the message, you were in a soft sweater, grabbing your bag that was full of snacks, and heading out the door. They only lived about 15 minutes away, so you decided to send Josh a text, letting him know you were on your way. Upon your arrival, you noticed that Josh’s jeep was the only car in the drive way. This made you raise your eyebrow, but you figured they were still on their way.

You parked and made your way to the door, knocking with the jaunty tune of “shave and a haircut,” alerting Josh to your presence. You stood back, shifting from foot to foot while you waited for him to let you in. In true Josh fashion, he took his sweet time. Just as you were about to knock again, the door came swinging open, a slight plume of smoke making its way out onto the porch. “I see you got started with out me,” you hummed, eyeing him as you pushed your way past him, making yourself out home with no hesitance. You met his eye as he grinned at you. “You sure keep me in check, don’t you,” he laughed, making his way over to the couch that you had settled yourself on. You let your head fall back against the plush cushion, watching as Josh reached for the bong, making sure the cherry was still bright, and producing smoke. He took a deep inhale, smirking at the way the water bubbled, before letting the smoke settle in his lungs and pushing it out. He thrust the glass object towards you, shaking it lightly. You rolled your eyes and grabbed it, taking a decent hit to get yourself started. “I usually wait for the others, y’know,” you teased, the last little bit of smoke flowing through your lips as you talked. Josh shifted in his spot next to you, “Yeah.” He signed, letting his head roll to the side so he was facing you. “They aren’t coming.”

“What?” You asked, a little startled, “Why not?”

Josh groaned, “Danny roped the other two into going out tonight, after I had already invited you. But I didn’t want to cancel on you, so… I figured you and I could keep up the tradition.”

It wasn’t uncommon for this type of thing to occur. Though, there was something different about getting high with just Josh. Something… Tender, secretive, yearning almost.

You giggled and sighed, letting the weed make its way into your psyche. “It’s fine, they’re a bunch of weenies. We’ll just get high enough for all of them.” You said, matter-of-factly. Josh nodded in agreement, your glassy eyes meeting each other for a second that was just too long to be platonic. You tore your eyes away, grabbing your bag and plopping it down in between the two of you. “We feast,” you said, tone flourishing, as you grabbed the copious amount of junk food you had stuffed in there. “Ugh, you are, an angel,” Josh groaned as he packed another bowl, eyeing the selection you had laid out in front of him. He held the flame under the bowl, letting the glass heat, small plumes of smoke rising from the bowl. He took another hit, letting the smoke permeate his lungs before grabbing a bag of hot Cheetos and tearing it open. “The heartburn is gonna be wild,” He sighed, releasing the smoke from his lung. You rummaged around in your bag before pulling out the tums, slapping the bottle in his hand, “I came prepared,” you said, watching the dopey smile spread across his face. “My angel,” he sighed, repeating the term of endearment from earlier. Your cheeks burned, there was that yearning feeling again.

The peaceful atmosphere and your altered state heightened these feelings, making them harder to ignore. It wasn’t like you were ignorant to your feelings about Josh, it’s just that they were that much more obvious in this room alone, with your thighs pressing against Josh’s. You allowed yourself to feel, letting your head fall onto his shoulder, cheeks heating once more as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. You sat up, grabbing the bong, taking a few more deep hits, letting your head spin. “Jesus, y/n, we have plenty to go around, it isn’t going anywhere.” Josh laughed, you laughed too, for a reason unbeknownst the the both of you, before you were laid over in his lap in a fit of giggles. You let your head rest against his thighs as your laughter settled, his hands tangling themselves into your hair.

You could feel the way his stomach rose and fell with his breath.

You shifted so you were looking up at him, only a little bit surprised to find him looking back, eyes glassy, a wide smile across his face as he continued to play with your hair. You smiled at the feeling of his hands, letting your eyes fall shut, laughing softly at the familiar sound of Will Ferrel and John C. Reiley arguing about drum kits. “That’s Sam and Danny,” You stuttered out, laughing at your own joke before it even finished leaving your lips. You watched as Josh threw his head back and laughed loudly, body moving as he did so. He wiped his eyes, taking a breath, before spluttering into laughter once more, you following suit, tears pricking at your eyes.

You loved these moments, blissful, unashamed belly laughs, were sure to cure the things of the world. You quited down, eyes still on Josh, as they always seemed to be lately. He bent over slightly, face resting just above yours. “You are one of a kind, angel.” He breathed, you could feel his breath hitting your lips. “I could say the same thing about you, Mr. Kiszka, super famous rockstar.” You sighed, eyes flicking down to his lips, and back up to meet his eyes. “Please, you’ve always been the better singer. Writing those songs, just for you to sing them to an empty room. Though, no body would be worthy of hearing a voice as beautiful as yours,” He said softly. You looked away, lips parting. “Sing to me,” Josh said, leaning back, head falling against the couch once more as his fingers resumed their movements in your hair.

“Why are there so many, songs about rainbows…” You started softly, holding back the giggles, “and what’s on the other side,” Josh finished, voice coming out strained and nasally in a poor attempt to mimic kermit the frog. “Rainbows are visions, but only illusions. So we’ve been told and some choose to believe it. I know they’re wrong, wait and see.” Your voice was soft, “Some day we’ll find it, the rainbow connection…” Your voice slowed as Josh leaned back over you, returning to the close proximity. “The lovers, the dreamers, and me,” you finished, blinking slowly at the man above you. You shifted, sitting up, before maneuvering yourself into Josh’s lap. “Am I reading this wrong?” You asked, feeling suddenly bold, the weed taking away your inhibitions. Josh shook his head slowly, leaning in ever so slightly, inviting you to close the gap, and so you did. Your lips met softly, kiss deepening as you got used to the feeling of each other.

The door swung open, banging against the wall, “WHERE’S THE P-“ Sam’s voice bellowed, stoping at the sight of you and Josh in a somewhat compromising position. You pulled away from him, startled at the new presence. “Hey guys,” Josh giggled, “Y/n its supposed to go ‘the lovers, the dreamers and ME’ not ‘the lovers, the dreamers and SAM,” Josh choked out, smile practically breaking his face in half. You squawked, laughter bubbling up from your chest, you leaned into Josh, head falling on his shoulder.

You caught your breath, just for your eyes to land an a semi drunk Sam, Danny, and Jake who were still awkwardly standing in the doorway, making your laughter start up again. “I think we need to be on their level,” Danny says, walking deeper into the house before settling next to you and Josh on the couch. “What so were going to start kissing each other? Revealing deep-seated feelings for each other?” Jake laughed, flopping down on to the rocking chair in the corner. “You have feelings for me?” You whispered, searching Josh’s eyes. “You haven’t told her? Josh what the fu-“ Sam started cut off by Jake and Danny simultaneously shushing him. Josh rolled his eyes, “Way to ruin it Sammy, but yes. Y/n, I like you,” he sighed, “Love, he means love,” Sam interrupted. “Jesus, Sam! We’re having a fucking moment, pack a bowl or something!” You hissed, earning snickers from Jake and Danny, before turning your attention back to Josh. “Yes, I love you. I would give up everything if It meant I would be able to just sing kermit the frog with you, I’d never smoke again if it meant I get to hold you, I’d smoke every day if it meant I get to hold you like this again. Even if it was just for a second,” Josh rambled. You giggled, quieting him with a kiss, “I love you, so much, Josh. I alway have.” You admitted, planting one more kiss on his plush lips. Cheering erupted from the other side of the room. “Finally!” Jake cheered, fake British accent making an appearance as the weed and alcohol mixed.

You smiled and rolled your eyes fondly, resting your forehead on Josh’s. “Can you believe those guys,” Josh scoffed before smirking, “C’mon babe. Pack us another bowl.” You flushed at the nickname, knowing the truth it held. You moved from your straddling position, grabbing the extra bong on the table and packing it, before flopping back down into Josh’s lap, throwing your legs over Danny’s.

That secretive, tender feeling, was now filling up the room, and you couldn’t be happier about it. You and Josh should’ve gotten high together without the boys a lot sooner, but you were looking forward to the new moments you two were going to share, rather than the ones you may have missed out on.

-

hehe i hope yall liked this

worlds slowest fanfic author tries really really hard

-Experimenting-

Josh Kiszka/Reader

Warnings: Pegging, F-dom/M-sub, Sub Josh Kiszka, nipple play (m-rec), minor subspace

Every once in a while, Josh would bring up wanting to try something new in bed. He's the type to try everything at least once, so when he approached you about something he saw online, you couldn't help but be excited.

Now here you were, a few days later, Josh on his back underneath you as you tease his nipples. He didn't seem very into it at first, until you leaned in and licked a stripe up one. A gasp escaped his lips, and his cock twitched where it lay between your hip and his thigh.

"Fuck..." He mumbled, his face going red.

You'd giggled at his reaction, leaning down to lick at the other nipple, blowing some cool air on it after. He seemed pretty sensitive like this, his hips twitching and little moans leaving his mouth every so often. You took it a step further, latching onto one and sucking, running your tongue over it as he whined in response.

His fingers gripped the sheets as he resisted the urge to thrust up against you. Instead, he tossed his head back, the blush spreading from just his cheeks to all the way down his neck and the tips of his ears. You pulled off, admiring how swollen the pink bud on his chest was, teasing it as you sucked at the other one, gently tugging at it.

While you were playing with his chest, your other hand was busy prepping him for what was to come. When he'd asked you to peg him, you were more excited than you'd like to admit. Thinking about Josh underneath you like that made your legs absolutely weak.

Josh picked out the strap already, and ordered it online as soon as you confirmed you wanted to try it. The strap wasn't anything special, just a simple black harness and a flesh toned, average size dildo you could attach to it. He mentioned getting different ones if he liked it, and by the sounds he made with just your fingers in him, you assume he'll be ordering more right away.

"How's it feeling baby?" You ask, giving his chest a little break as you pulled back to pour more lube on your fingers.

He whined in response, making you chuckle and lean in to kiss him.

"Words, Josh..."

He smiled up at you, his pupils blown wide, "Feels fuckin' amazing, mama..."

Ah, he's pulling out that pet name. When Josh calls you that, you know he's feeling amazing, and probably dropping into subspace. You keep your eyes on him as you slowly push in a third finger alongside the two already in him, and the way his eyes roll back and his mouth drops open makes your core tremble and your legs shake.

Using your free hand, you slathered lube onto the cock now securely attached to you with the harness, warming up the silicone with a few strokes as you pull your fingers out of him.

He whined at the loss, but soon covered his mouth as he felt the tip of the strap slowly press in instead. You pulled his hand away, eyes never leaving his face.

"Wanna hear you, Josh..." You say, watching how his face changes as you slowly and carefully push in.

His eyes seemed unable to look anywhere but up, and moans spilled from his open mouth, a bit of drool running down his chin. When your hips finally reached his ass, you let him adjust for a moment, leaning down to suck at his nipples again. His cock was leaking against his tummy, pre-cum pooling in his belly button as he twitched.

"M-move. Please, mama..." Josh mumbled, trying to push back and forth against the strap. You finally began to move, pulling out halfway before thrusting in again.

The movement caused Josh to let out the most delightful moan, and you knew you needed him to make that noise again. With every thrust, you grew more confident, speeding up and letting your fingers dig into his hips a bit. You changed your angle slightly, grinning when he scrabbled at the sheets and fucking whimpered.

"T-there! Right there!"

You kept aiming at that spot, knowing he wouldn't last long. You were leaking under the strap, the sensation of the leather rubbing against your clit with every thrust keeping you on edge.

"Fuck, Josh... taking me so well baby..." You rambled, giving a few harsh thrusts right into his sweet spot. He was tensed up, nearing that peak. You wrapped a free hand around his cock, and that was the last push he needed.

"Fuck- ah! Mama, gonna cum!"

With a long moan and a few jolts of his hips, he crashed over the edge, cumming harder than he had in a while, a couple spurts even landing on his chin. You pull out, seeing his cock give one last twitch as you unhook the strap and drop it beside the bed.

You were fully prepared just to use your hand, knowing Josh would be exhausted after. But to your surprise, he was tugging on your wrist and asking you to use him to get off.

"Are you sure, Josh? You don't have to-"

"I'm literally begging you to ride my face right now, (Y/N)." He says, licking his lips.

Giving in, you clamber up with your legs on either side of his head. His hands grip your thighs firmly, tugs you down, and goes to town on you. Your fingers instinctively thread into his curly hair as his tongue, warm and eager, begins to explore your most sensitive areas. The sensation is overwhelming; each flick and swirl sending ripples of pleasure coursing through you, and your back arches involuntarily from the pleasure.

He sucks your clit and you know you won't last much longer after being on the edge all evening. All it takes is a few more sucks and licks, and him whining against you, and you're gone. You trap his head with your thighs when you finish, coating his lips and chin in juices. He laps them up obediently, and you have to pry him off to avoid the overstimulation.

You collapse in bed beside him, tugging him into a fervent kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue.

You made a mental note to order a better strap in the morning. You had no doubt you'd need it again soon.

YES YES YES

THIS. THIS. THIS. THISS

I am a BIG Five Nights at Freddy’s enjoyer, so when Security Breach came out, my first thought was, omg, Josh would make a great Sundrop!! I mean wouldn't he be the best daycare attendant?

So, I hope you enjoy Sundrop Josh ❤️

Sanguine Osculum

Upon exploring an abandoned manor deep in the woods, you find that truth is sometimes just as strange as fiction.

Vampire!Sam Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: Standard warnings for a vampire fic, along with 18+ themes in future chapters.

You'd heard the stories, of course. Deep in the woods, a desolate manor stood. The family who once called it home, they said, had all fallen victim to some illness, leaving the once bustling estate empty and unkempt.

But those who decided to explore it always spoke of an energy that seemed to exist there, of a presence that resided within the worn-down walls. Believers suggest that the spirits of the four young brothers who had once lived there still wandered the halls, unable to accept that they're no longer alive. Others just say it's a creepy old manor, empty and alone. These claims ignited a fire of curiosity within you, and you were itching to explore the place yourself.

The family, it seemed, had originated from somewhere in Europe, their lineage a long line of nobility and prestige. They were revered, held in high regard, as if royalty. Upon arriving here, however, their once illustrious name faded into obscurity. They vanished from the public eye, retreating into the confines of their manor.

This only added to your intrigue, if you were being honest. What secrets lie waiting in that old manor? Was it really haunted?

You decided one afternoon that you were going to find out for yourself, which is how you ended up stood in front of the dilapidated manor, a large pack on your back and anticipation thrumming under your skin.

The manor, once a symbol of opulence and prosperity, now sat in a state of disrepair and loneliness. Time had not been kind to the large estate, with ivy creeping up the decaying walls, nature reclaiming what was once its own. The windows, many shattered, stared out into the world with hollow eyes, as if yearning for what it once was.

The doors were still functional, with a large, ornate knocker staring back at you. Just for the hell of it, you lifted the heavy iron knocker and let it hit the door once, the noise echoing through the halls.

Nothing seemed to jump out at you, no ghosts, no squatters, no animals, so you assumed the place really was empty. You pushed the heavy door open with your shoulder, grateful you had worn something you didn't mind getting messed up as a loose splinter tore a small rip in your sleeve.

While the outside of the manor was in a rather sad state, the inside was surprisingly intact. It was dusty, sure, and some things here and there seemed damaged, but most of the furniture and knicknacks still sat as if no time had passed.

The foyer, once a grand entrance hall, greeted you with faded elegance. The air hung heavy with the scent of neglect, mingling with the faint aroma of aged wood and mothballs. Rays of sunlight filtered through the cracked and dusty windows, casting a dappled light on the old wooden floors. The faded paintings on the walls, still intact beneath the layers of dust, spoke of a time when this place was alive with laughter and vibrant conversations.

You were glad you had decided to bring your camera with you, eager to get photos of this beautiful place. Even the kitchen was elegant; black and white stone floor, white brick walls, and dark stained wood throughout the room spoke of the wealth of the family who once lived here. You wondered what kind of meals they enjoyed that were prepared here.

Your feet carried you to what seemed to be a ballroom of sorts. A large grand piano sat in a corner, intricate carvings decorating its glossy exterior. You were surprised by the lack of dust on it, as if someone took care of it.

The room itself was vast, adorned with chandeliers that hung precariously from the ceiling, their crystal droplets dulled and tarnished. The walls, once adorned with opulent tapestries and intricate artwork, now displayed faded remnants of their former glory. Gossamer curtains, moth-eaten and tattered, danced with the breeze that seeped through the broken windows, casting eerie shadows on the worn parquet floor.

As you reached the old piano, you felt a shiver up your spine. It felt like there were eyes on you, silently watching from some darkened corner. Looking around the sprawling ballroom revealed nothing, not even a mouse scuttling across the floor. Maybe it was just your imagination, but you couldn't shake that feeling.

And maybe you were just overly superstitious, but you didn't want to risk having a ghost angry at you for touching their stuff without asking.

"I-" You spoke up, stuttering at the way your voice echoed throughout the empty room, "I hope you don't mind if I play your piano. I won't break it, I promise."

And suddenly, you felt the tension in the room disappear, as if whoever was watching you was giving you permission.

You gently sat on the wooden bench, letting your fingers drift to the keys. Playing it, you were surprised to find it was still mostly in-key. You didn't know how to play much on the piano, just some simple melodies, but you enjoyed playing it, nonetheless. To be able to play a piece of history was so exciting to you.

You still felt watched as you played, but the gaze felt more curious now. Once you finished playing, you stood from the piano and glanced around the large room.

"Thanks for letting me play. I'll leave you be now," You say again to the seemingly empty room before heading back to the front room.

The sweeping staircase, its banister worn but still sturdy, beckoned you to explore the upper floors. Each step you took echoed through the empty space, reminding you of the tragedy that took place here. You couldn't help but wonder about the lives that once ascended these steps, the footsteps that once filled the hollow emptiness.

Rooms branched off from the main staircase, some to the left and some to the right. The right seemed to be bedrooms, which you left for later. The first room you came across was a library.

As you stepped into the dimly lit space, you couldn't help but be captivated by the sight before you. The room was lined from floor to ceiling with towering bookshelves, their wooden frames weathered by time. The shelves were filled with rows upon rows of books, their spines bearing the weight of forgotten stories and hidden knowledge.

Sunlight filtered through the dust-laden windows, casting an ethereal glow that danced upon the countless volumes. Each ray seemed to breathe life into the forgotten tales, giving them a chance to whisper their secrets once more. You could almost imagine the whispers of the authors, their words suspended in the air, waiting for someone to pick them up.

You ran your fingers along the books as you made your way deeper into the room, marveling at the fragility of their spines and the delicate scent of aged parchment that filled the air. The room was silent, save for the faint rustling of pages as the wind tiptoed through the cracks in the windows.

As you reached the center of the library, your eyes were drawn to an ornate desk, tucked away in a corner. The desk stood proud, its surface adorned with intricate carvings of flowers and vines. You felt watched once more, but this gaze was different. It was wary, but more gentle.

Speaking eased the tension last time, so you decided to do so again.

"Hello... I'm just here to look around. I won't take any of the books."

And again, the air felt calmer. You were certain there was a presence here, but it didn't seem angry or violent. Just... watchful. Careful of it's possessions.

You read some of the papers that sat on the desk. They seemed to be poems, or maybe songs, your eyes trailing along the faded ink. You didn't stay in the library very long, the dust making your throat tickle. You thanked the unseen presence again before moving on.

The room next door was a music room of some sort. Various instruments lay around the room, though two caught your interest: a beautiful violin and a very old guitar. At this point, you weren't surprised when you felt watched again, though this time, you felt a bit of annoyance seep into the room. You decided it would be best to leave the instruments alone; whatever was watching you seemed protective of them.

"I won't touch your things, I promise."

The tension cooled slightly, but you could still tell that you weren't wanted in here.

"Sorry if I'm intruding... I'll take my leave now."

You quickly exited the music room, letting out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. You decided to leave that room be for now; whatever was in there didn't want you in there with it.

The last room on the left side was a sitting room, bathed in the faint light of the slowly setting sun. As you stepped inside, your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. The air hung heavy with the scent of aged wood and lingering spirits.

An ornate bar, its polished surface covered by empty liquor bottles, commanded attention, taking up a large portion of the room. Crystal decanters, now empty and collecting dust, stood alongside tarnished glasses.

On the other end of the room, nestled beneath the glow of an antique chandelier, sat a cluster of chairs. Their faded upholstery now bore the marks of time, their frayed edges and worn cushions a result of the passage of years. A pool table, its green baize cloth marked with faint traces of chalk, stood nearby, its wooden frame showing signs of wear and tear.

You set your bag down and sank into one of the large chairs, the worn leather creaking softly beneath your weight. It was then that you felt it—an inexplicable shift in the atmosphere, as if the room had come alive with an unseen presence. The air crackled with a tangible energy, and a shiver danced its way down your spine.

The feeling of being watched returned, but this time, it was different. It was no longer a mere gaze, but a physical presence that settled in the room with you. You could almost feel the wamth of another person, almost feel the subtle disturbance of the air as they moved.

And then, in the periphery of your vision, you saw it. There was a flicker of movement, a shadow cast against the wall. Your breath caught in your throat as you turned your head, eyes narrowing in an attempt to make sense of the mysterious figure that now stood before you.

You could see dark curly hair and a white ruffled shirt, like the ones you'd see in those period dramas. Curious, dark eyes stared back at you as you stood on shaking legs, unsure of what you were looking at. The figure stepped closer, and you could finally see the rest of his features.

He was handsome, and reminded you of the old Greek statues you'd seen at the art museum once. There was something off about him, though, and his movements were too quiet for your liking.

It took a minute to find your voice, and it trembled once you did.

"H-Hello... I'm sorry for intruding..."

The young man looked you up and down, raising an eyebrow before finally speaking.

"You should leave. Your kind shouldn't be here. It's not safe."

His voice was low and rough, but there was a softer tone to the second half, as if he were genuinely concerned for you.

"U-um... okay..."

You glanced at the door, slowly walking to it and keeping your distance from the man.

"Can I ask if you're-"

"You really should take your leave. It's not wise to be here right now," he repeated.

You decided to take heed of his warning, slipping out of the room and back into the hallway. The air felt different than before, as if the manor itself was watching you. You quickly headed back down the staircase and out the front door, your heart thumping out of your chest.

Honestly you hadn't even realized it was so late, too enveloped in exploring. Reaching for your cell phone, you came back empty handed.

Shit. You left your bag upstairs.

You couldn't just leave it behind; you didn't have that kind of money. And your camera was in it too, and you definitely didn't want to lose that.

So, with a deep breath, you re-entered the manor. Climbing the stairs, you felt like you were making a mistake, but you continued on. You had to.

As you reached the landing, you could see the door leading to the sitting room standing ajar, a sliver of light peeking through the crack. Your heart pounded in your chest, the sound reverberating in your ears as you approached cautiously, one hesitant step at a time.

Pushing the door open, you entered the room once again, your eyes instantly drawn to the spot where you had left your bag. It lay there, innocently perched upon the worn chair, waiting patiently for your return.

With a sigh of relief, you hurriedly retrieved your bag, pulling it over your shoulders before turning around and running directly into the young man from before.

"Why are you still here?" He asked, worry in his tone.

"I- um, forgot my things..." You replied, shocked that he wasn't a ghost like you first though. His body was physical, clearly, as you had run into him. His skin was cooler than your own, but not wildly so.

"Leave now. Please," He gently pushed you out of the room, and his tone worried you.

In your rush to head down the stairs, however, you slipped. You felt the ground approaching your face, and closed your eyes as you braced yourself for impact. But it never came. Instead, you felt gentle arms around you, and a new voice spoke quietly into your ear.

"Easy, Darling..."

You opened your eyes and looked up, your eyes meeting honey brown ones. This was a different young man, his short brown hair slicked back, showing off his soft features and slight stubble. He wore an off white ruffled shirt with a fancy jacket over it, his dainty features giving him a charming look overall.

"You should be more careful, Darling. You could've gotten hurt."

He had a boyish tone to his voice and didn't look like he was much different in age to yourself, though you could've been wrong. His hands were a bit clammy, but you ignored it as he helped you to the front door.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"It's quite alright, Darling," He cut you off, before smiling softly, "Now, I must ask you to head back home. You shouldn't linger around strange places so late..."

You swallowed and nodded, not missing the way he looked you up and down, his gaze landing back on your face.

"As lovely as it was to meet you and listen to you play, Darling, I must ask that you not return. It's simply for your own safety. Oh, and don't tell anyone you saw us. We don't like visitors..."

You nodded again. You certainly wouldn't be telling anyone about this. It's not like they'd believe you.

The young man smiled again, giving you a slight bow.

"Have a lovely night, Darling," He whispered, closing the door once more.

As you drove home that night, only one thought filled your head.

You had to go back to that place.

-------

The manor seemed just as empty as before when you decided to return, just days later. The overgrown ivy still twisted around the stone walls, casting eerie shadows in the fading light of dusk. The looming structure stood as a silent sentinel, guarding its secrets within. The heavy oak door beckoned you forward, its intricate carvings a stark contrast to the peeling paint and weathered facade. You wondered for a moment if you imagined the strange people who you had met the last time.

You were tempted to raise the heavy knocker once again, but you knew deep down that you would get no response. The manor still seemed abandoned, frozen in time, a relic of a bygone era. Yet, faintly, you could hear what sounded like music drifting through the air, carried on a haunting melody.

Intrigued and unable to resist the allure of the sound, you stepped into the manor once more. The music was drawing you deeper into its depths, the soft creaking of floorboards beneath your feet adding to the somber ambiance that surrounded you.

After a minute of wandering the lower halls, you finally reached the grand ballroom. The doors stood ajar, revealing a scene straight out of a dream— or perhaps out of a period drama.

In the corner of the room, bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, a figure sat at the grand piano. His fingers danced across the keys with effortless grace, conjuring a haunting melody that seemed to reach the very core of your being.

Stepping closer, you recognized him as the young man from before, the one who caught you on the stairs. You couldn't see much of his face from where you stood, but managed to see that his eyes were closed and he seemed to move with the music. His brow would furrow and relax with the highs and lows of the melody, and his mouth hung slightly open, quiet mumbles spilling out unconsciously.

The scene before you was captivating, almost surreal in its beauty and mystery. The candlelight cast dancing shadows across the room, adding an ethereal quality to the young man's performance. The melody he played seemed to echo through the vast ballroom, filling the space with a sense of melancholy and longing.

As you watched him, you couldn't help but be drawn in by his music. Each note was played with such emotion and skill, his fingers gliding effortlessly across the keys. It was as though the piano was an extension of his own body, each chord and harmony a reflection of himself.

His body swayed with the music, his movements fluid and graceful. You could sense the passion and dedication he poured into his playing, his entire being consumed by the haunting melody that filled the room. It was a performance unlike any other, and one you knew he expected no one to see.

As the music reached a crescendo, his eyes fluttered open, revealing depths of honey brown that seemed to hold a thousand thoughts at once. But then, he played a sour note, his body going stiff as he slowly turned to make eye contact with you.

"What are you doing here...?" He asked, his voice laced with confusion, "I thought I asked you not to come back."

He stood quickly, his movements as graceful as a dancer.

"I'm sorry... I just- I had to... I needed to make sure what I saw last time was real..." You tried to explain, stumbling over your words as he approached.

"As much as I'd love to keep your company, darling, you can't be here," He whispered, using that name again. The one that only made you want to stay here longer. He stopped a few feet away from you and stood so still you couldn't even see him breathe. It was as if he was afraid to come closer, or even breathe the same air as you.

"Why is it so dangerous to be here?" You asked, taking a step forward, "That's what the other boy said too, the one with the curly black hair."

The young man tilted his head to the side, "Curly black hair... you met Daniel?" His confusion turned to concern, "You didn't happen to meet anyone else, did you?"

You shook your head.

He reached out, as if to turn you towards the door, "Then you still have a chance to leave. I'd do so before either of them know you're snooping around here again-"

"Sam?"

Another man's voice echoed down from the top of the stairs, and the brown haired boy, Sam apparently, stiffened.

"Damnit..." He muttered, grabbing your arm and leading you to a closet, "Stay in here and do not make a sound. Just trust me."

With that, he pushed you in and shut the door, leaving you in the dark, dusty storage closet. You pressed your ear against the door, straining to catch any sound from outside.

The muffled voices of Sam and the newcomer drifted through the wooden barrier, "Sam? Who's down here with you?" This voice was lower and had a slight rasp to it compared to Sam's more boyish tone.

"There's no one here, Jake. It's just me."

The other man, Jake, seemed to be unsure of that answer, his footsteps coming every so slightly closer.

"I can smell that someone else was here, Sam. You know that no one can-"

"Jake, it's probably just from the person who was here the other day. They were messing with my piano, so it probably still has their scent," Sam explained, though you didn't understand what he meant. You didn't stink, did you? You sniffed yourself but could only smell the dust and mildew in the closet. It tickled your nose, and you did all you could to hold in the sneeze threatening to come out.

"Maybe... I just don't like it when people come snooping around. If any of them find out, they'll be here with pitchforks and torches by nightfall."

Unfortunately, you could only hold in the sneeze for so long.

"Achoo! ... shit..."

The sound echoed through the dark, dusty closet, interrupting the stillness that had enveloped the space. Your heart skipped a beat as you realized your cover had been blown. The muffled voices of Sam and Jake abruptly halted, replaced by a heavy silence that seemed to last forever despite it only being a few moments.

The closet door was suddenly flung open as you locked eyes with who you assumed was Jake. His brown hair fell effortlessly to his shoulders, and there was an undeniable elegance about him, an air of regality that seemed to set him apart from the others. His outfit was different too; a red vest and jacket that showed off much of his chest and the necklaces that lay there, paired with red suit pants and white pointed dress shoes

But it was his eyes that captivated you the most. Like Sam's, they were a piercing amber-brown, but there was something about the way Jake looked at you that made you shiver. It was as if he was looking through you instead of at you. It was both unsettling and electrifying.

His lips curled into a snarl, revealing unusually sharp teeth that glinted in the sparse illumination, adding to his menacing demeanor. Without a word, he grabbed the front of your shirt, his grip firm and unyielding as he backed you against the wall.

With his face mere inches from yours, you could see every detail of his nearly perfect skin. His gaze bore into you, as if searching for answers you were not even sure you had. The intensity in his eyes was like a storm brewing, ready to unleash its fury at any moment.

"Who the hell are you, and why are you here?" His voice was low and dangerous, each word dripping with anger. The weight of his question pressed down on you, demanding a response that you struggled to form.

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. The silence that followed was suffocating, broken only by the sound of your own fearful breaths. In that moment, you felt like a mouse caught in the gaze of a cat, helpless and exposed.

The seconds stretched on, each heartbeat echoing in your ears like a drumbeat of impending danger. The dim light cast shadows across Jake's face, accentuating the sharp angles and the intensity of his gaze. It was as if time itself had slowed down, trapping you in this moment of uncertainty and fear.

But just as you thought you might crumble under the weight of his scrutiny, Sam spoke up, placing a hand on Jake's arm, "Let them go, Jake. I promise they're not a threat to us."

Jake's grip on your shirt loosened slightly, but his gaze remained fixed on you, "You know their kind and our kind aren't exactly friends, right, Sam? What's stopping them from ratting us out the second they leave?"

Ratting them out about what? For being weirdos living in some old manor in the woods?

"I- I won't say anything! I swear on my life!" You manage to blurt out, the words tumbling out of you in a desperate plea.

Sam butted in again, "Jake, please. It's the one chance we have to see what people are up to now. Please?" He sounded like a child begging their parent to let them keep a new pet.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jake released his hold on you, stepping back with a wary look in his eyes, "Fine. But if you say one word to anyone, I'll gut you."

Jake turned on his heel and stormed off, his coat billowing behind him. His footsteps echoed through the empty hallway, fading into the distance like a distant thunderstorm. Alone with Sam now, you turned to face him, taking in the subtle downturn of his shoulders and the crease of worry etched into his brow.

"I apologize about him. He doesn't trust people very much anymore..." Sam's voice was apologetic and worried, "He'll eventually get over it. Just, ah, please don't tell anyone about us?"

You sighed in annoyance, still confused about all this, "Tell anyone what?? I still have no idea what or who you guys are!"

It was Sam's turn to seem confused.

"You... you don't? I assumed you had returned because you figured it out..." Sam trailed off, suddenly looking a bit embarrassed, his brows knitting together in a perplexed expression.

"Oh. Well... hmm..." Sam's voice trailed off, suddenly less sure sounding than before.

"Well?" you prompted.

Sam took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging slightly under the weight of whatever knowledge he carried. He took a deep breath, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I, um... my brothers and I... we're not human. Not anymore, at least..." Sam's voice wavered, the confession weighing down his every syllable.

You stared at him, searching his face for any sign of deceit, but all you found was raw vulnerability.

"You're... not human?" The words felt foreign on your tongue, a question you'd never thought you'd say.

Sam nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving yours, "We're something else now. Something different..." His features were drawn with worry, his eyes pleading for understanding, "I know this is a lot to take in, but please... we mean no harm. We're just trying to survive, to exist in a world that isn't made for us."

Not human.

The words echoed in your thoughts as questions fought for attention in your mind, demanding answers that seemed to slip through your grasp like water through a sieve. Not human. Then what was he?

You could touch them, so probably not ghosts; they weren't rotting in front of you, so not zombies, a voice in your mind reasoned, trying to make sense of the impossible truth standing before you.

You looked at Sam, truly looked at him, and actually took in his features. His smooth, perfect skin that accentuated the sharp angles of his face, his amber eyes that leaned a little more red than brown, and his too-sharp teeth, elongated and pointed, glistening slightly under the light filtering through the dusty windows.

Oh.

It all made sense.

The pieces of the puzzle fell into place with a resounding click, and suddenly, the world around you seemed to shift. Sam stood before you, a creature of the night, a being that belonged to the shadows.

"You... You're a vampire??" You ask in a hushed tone, a part of you still not believing it.

Sam nodded slowly, his features softened by a hint of sadness, "Yes, I am. And so are my brothers. We... we never wanted this life, but it chose us nonetheless." His voice was a whisper, full of longing for a world long gone.

"Do you... feed on people?" You ask, stepping back.

"No! None of us do. We can stay satiated enough with the wildlife in the surrounding forest," Sam assured you, taking a step to keep the same distance between you both, "Trust me, I don't like it either. I didnt like eating animals even before becoming this. But I can assure you that none of us will hurt you."

You cast a glance to the doorway where Jake had just stormed off, "What about him?"

"Jake's just highly overprotective of us. Most people tend to run screaming when they discover they're standing in a house full of vampires."

You stayed still for a moment, considering your options. You could run away like others apparently had, and try to forget this place and it's otherworldly inhabitants. But there was something in Sam's demeanor, a certain earnestness in his voice, that made you want to stay.

"You promise none of you will hurt me?" You ask, watching as Sam's face perks up at your words.

"I promise. I swear on my eternal life," Sam grinned, placing a hand over his heart. His teeth glinted in the light, but strangely, you weren't scared of him.

"Alright then. I'll trust you... Sam, was it?" You say, relaxing slightly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I never introduced myself, did I? My name is Samuel Francis Kiszka, and it's a pleasure to meet you, darling," Sam bowed dramatically, peeking up at you after a moment with another grin, "But you may call me Sam."

You told Sam your own name, chuckling when he decided to keep referring to you as "darling" instead.

"Now, I'd love to give you the grand tour, if you'd like?"

You, of course, agreed.

As Sam led you through the dimly lit corridors of the mansion, you couldn't help but marvel at the grandeur of the place. You followed Sam's tall figure, his movements graceful yet purposeful, as he showed you around the rooms you had only briefly passed through before.

The ballroom, with its ornate chandeliers and marble floors, stood as a reminder a bygone era. Sam spoke of the nights when music and laughter filled the room, when guests twirled in elegant gowns and tailored suits. His voice echoed in the vast space, recounting tales of extravagant parties and lavish gatherings that once graced the halls.

Next, he guided you to the kitchen, where the scent of spices and herbs still lingered in the air, even under all the dust. The massive hearth, now cold and dark, had once been the heart of the bustling room. Sam pointed out the intricately carved cabinets and shelves, explaining how the pantry used to aways be stocked with supplies from the nearby village, ensuring that those living in the manor at that time never went hungry.

Moving on, you entered the dining room, its long table still set with fine china and silverware. The high-backed chairs stood empty, a stark reminder of the absence of guests. Sam's voice softened as he described the family meals shared around the table, the laughter and arguments that had once filled the room now reduced to nothing but memories in his mind.

The last major room you were shown on the lower floor was the main sitting room. Though also covered in a layer of dust and it's windows cracked and curtains torn, it still seemed grand. The large couches were made of fine velvet and leather, clearly expensive in their time and still worth a hefty sum today. The large fireplace, all of its bricks imported from Europe according to Sam, used go heat nearly the whole house.

"Though, we don't really have a need to keep cool or warm anymore. In fact, we seem to run colder than ever before," Sam explained, "We can feel warmth but it doesn't do much, Sam continued, his voice carrying a hint of wistfulness. As he spoke, you noticed a flicker of something in his eyes, a distant longing for sensations that he could no longer fully experience.

The warmth of a crackling fire, the gentle touch of sunlight on his skin – all of no use to him in the eternity of his existence. Maybe all the romance novels had made you forget how lonely the life of an immortal must be.

"But enough about me," Sam turned to head out of the sitting room, gesturing to the large staircase, "I think you should formally meet my brothers."

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CHAPTER 2:

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Photo by @no-other-mashter

Sanguine Osculum Upon exploring an abandoned manor deep in the woods, you find that truth is sometimes just as strange as fiction. CHAPTE