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The Ghost in my Apartment: Part 4

Day 8. Nathan didn't care anymore. He didn't feel alone. Nathan was cooking dinner, humming quietly to himself. Eggs. Fried rice. A comfort meal, cheap and filling. The pan sizzled. Then it shivered. He frowned. Reached to adjust the heat. But the knob turned on its own, lowering to a gentle simmer. He blinked. "...Thanks?" He didn't expect an answer. Didn't need one either. He was already used to the weirdness. --- Later that night, he sat at his desk, sketching. He'd found an old charcoal pencil buried in the drawer earlier. Looked untouched, like it had been waiting. He didn't question it. The lines came easy tonight. Curved strokes, soft shading, something…familiar. Halfway through, he realized wha

The Ghost in my Apartment: Part 5

Day 9.Nathan decided to go grocery shopping. With the rent barely making a dent in his wallet, he could finally afford a few indulgences in his cart."...I'm leaving. Gonna grab some things. Be back later."He said it out loud, more out of habit than expectation. Talking to the air had become second nature now, as if silence would feel too lonely otherwise.But just as he stepped out and reached to lock the door behind him, a cool breeze brushed across his cheek, gentle, deliberate.He paused."You're coming with me?"A soft tap landed on his shoulder.That was a yes.When he reached the grocery store, Nathan pulled out his list and grabbed a cart. He opted for more fresh goods than preserved ones, simple, clean, nothing fancy.The place was more crowded than he liked. Too many people. Too much noise. So he made up his mind to move quickly, grab what he needed, and get out.In the hou

The Ghost in my Apartment: Part 6

Day 10. Nathan woke up feeling lighter than he had in weeks. His limbs stretched loose under the sheets, muscles relaxed in a way that felt almost foreign. There was no lingering tension in his shoulders. No racing heart. No gnawing edge of dread waiting to greet him the second his eyes opened. Just… calm. Oddly calm. He blinked slowly, letting the soft gray morning light spill across the ceiling as the realization sank in. Whatever kind of sleep that had been, it wasn’t normal. Not for him. Deep. Heavy. Restful in a way that left him floating. Too good, honestly. And then, like flipping a light switch, he remembered. What the ghost had done. Nathan’s breath hitched in his throat, and instinctively, his hand drifted lazily down his torso. His skin still hummed faintly, as if his body hadn’t caught up with the fact that no one was touch

The Ghost in my Apartment: Part 7

Day 11.Nathan didn't wake up like most people.There was no blaring alarm, no streak of sunlight across the sheets.Just the chilled kiss of air on the nape of his neck.And fingers, phantom ones, trailing his spine with the softness of breath and the intent of sin.He sighed, eyes still closed, hips shifting slightly beneath the sheets."You really don't sleep, do you…" he murmured.No answer came, but a ghost of laughter brushed his ear.Then a hand, one that didn't exist, slid beneath the waistband of his shorts.Nathan tensed.Then melted.---The covers lifted slowly, as if the air itself grew impatient.The phantom's presence curled around him, familiar now, almost warm despite the chill.He felt his legs being eased apart.Teasing fingers ghosted over sensitive skin, not solid, but felt, intimately, absolutely felt.They skimmed past his thighs, cu

The Ghost in my Apartment: Part 8

Day 12.Nathan stood in front of the mirror, shirt halfway lifted, watching nothing.But feeling everything.A cold draft curled around his hips.Then pressure.A slow, deliberate push against the small of his back, right where the spine dipped, where breath got caught and eyes fluttered shut.His reflection stared back at him, lips parted, chest heaving, while unseen hands traveled lower.His knees knocked."You're not gonna let me get dressed, are you?"The lights flickered.Then the mirror fogged again."WHY BOTHER?"Nathan grinned despite himself.The ghost's answer was always maddeningly simple, and brutally effective.Now pressed against the vanity, his reflection fogged and blurred, Nathan gasped as fingers, cold and knowing, slid beneath the waistband of his briefs.They gripped.Lifted.Pulled him back into a cruel rhythm that wasn't mean

The Ghost in my Apartment: Part 9

Day 13. Nathan woke up, body limp, butthole sore, and shaft kissed red from ghostly worship. Sheets were clinging in places he didn't want to talk about. His legs refused to move. His neck had bite marks, from air. He stared up at the ceiling fan like it could offer him therapy. "You didn't hold back at all…" His voice cracked. The silence was suspiciously smug. And then the mirror fogged. "YOU BEGGED." Nathan groaned into his pillow. --- Kitchen crawl of shame He managed to crawl, crawl, to the kitchen, dragging a blanket behind him like a war survivor. He poured water with trembling hands, only to feel a breeze lift his shirt and stroke his shaft. Gently. Intimately. As if proud of its own sin. "Stop it." A whisper on his neck: "MAKE ME."

A Godfather's Worship

Marcus adjusted his tie, posture ramrod straight as the boardroom lights cast down over his graying temples and sharp jaw. He was the image of composure, except for the twitch at the corner of his mouth… and the hand gripping the armrest."…Q3 revenue is up by twelve percent," he said, voice low and steady, despite the distraction currently kneeling beneath the table.Elias.His godson.The same boy he helped raise, now twenty and far from innocent. The same one who had whispered in his ear this morning, "Bet you can't handle me while doing your little CEO thing."He didn't knock. He didn't ask. He just slipped under the desk before the meeting began, smirking as he crawled between Marcus's legs with wicked intent.Marcus cleared his throat sharply.A tongue slid along his inner thigh.He shifted slightly in his chair, enough to hide the way his knees nearly buckled from just a breath.No one could see.

A Godfather's Worship: Part 2

The suite’s air hung heavy, thick with tension under the dim red lights. Elias leaned against the wall, shirt half-open, dark hair messy, eyes sharp with a reckless spark. Marcus stood stiff, jaw clenched, gray at his temples catching the light, his control frayed as Elias tilted his head, daring him to break.“You’re playing a dangerous game,” Marcus said, voice rough, low, his cock stirred in his slacks as he stepped closer. Elias grinned, stepped forward, and breathed hot on Marcus’s lips. “I already won, Marcus,” he whispered. “You’re too damn stubborn to say it.”“You think that’s enough?” Marcus snapped, grabbed Elias’s waist, fingers pressed hard into his hips, slammed him against the wall with a thud. One hand slid under Elias’s shirt, felt muscle shift, warm and tense, while the other gripped Elias’s neck, held him close, lips almost touching. “You think crawling under my desk made you the boss?”Elias laughed, soft, needy

A Godfather's Worship: Part 3

[Elias's Perspective]Dinner filled the suite’s private dining area, three courses laid out with precision. Marcus sat across from him, shirt crisp, sleeves rolled up, veins stark on his forearms. He noticed too much, and hated himself for it, while he stabbed his salad, fork scraping the plate.“He’s unreadable,” Elias thought, glancing up. “Cold as stone since I was ten. Controlled. Perfect.”Marcus barely ate, didn’t speak. His silence owned the room before he even entered. Elias shoved lettuce in his mouth, trying to drown his thoughts. “Bet he doesn’t sweat during sex,” he muttered to himself. “Probably counts down like it’s a damn deal.”His eyes traced Marcus, gray at the temples, jaw sharp, faint lines hinting at years of restraint. Forty-two, no softness left, not even in those eyes.Elias cleared his throat. “So, tomorrow’s-”“Eat your food,” Marcus cut in, eyes on his wine glass. “You’ve b

A Godfather's Worship: Part 4

Marcus stepped forward, boots thudded on the wooden floor, echoed like a warning. The door shut behind Elias, clicked slow, deliberate, locked them in Marcus’s secret world.“You think you can handle this?” Marcus said, voice low, rough. “Your teasing games got you here?”Elias didn’t flinch, stood tall. “I led myself here,” he said, eyes locked on Marcus’s.Marcus reached up, tilted Elias’s chin, their faces inches apart, till their breath mixed. “No more desk games, no hallway touches,” he said. “You want this? You’ll learn what craving really means.”He circled Elias, slow, eyes raked over him, starved, not just hungry. He grabbed a black silk ribbon from a drawer, tied it around Elias’s eyes, slowly, practiced.“You came to provoke,” Marcus whispered, lips brushed Elias’s ear. “Now you surrender.”He flicked his wrist, tied Elias’s hands behind him, gentle, not to hurt but just to hold. He guided Elias to a bench, sat him dow

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