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Fuck.
Phainon’s boots crunch on the frostbitten porch, the chill biting his scarred knuckles as he fumbles with the cabin’s rusted lock. The forest hums around him and his good eye stings from the cold.
He’s late.
Chopping wood for the village had dragged past dusk and his stomach’s gnawing itself raw.
This cursed cabin is his only refuge, his sanctuary of cold and a crumbling relic bought with his last clean cash.
Aedes Elysiae doesn’t give a shit about ex-cons, especially not ones with half a face melted like candle wax.
He’d been Lygus’ right-hand man, the attack dog for the group posing as a high-end legal security firm. The work was brutal–intimidation, hits, and “problem-solving” that left blood on his hands. It paid well and kept him sharp—
Until a deal went south.
A rival crew set a trap and a Molotov cocktail exploded too close, engulfing 47.25% of the right side of his body. The third-degree burns left his skin a patchwork of scars and rendered his right eye blind.
Lygus had called him indispensable, but when the cops closed in, his boss vanished. Leaving Phainon to burn–
Literally and figuratively.
Arrested for assault and racketeering, his record branded him a criminal. No one in their right mind would hire a half-blind and scarred ex-con with a face that made people flinch.
He moved back to his hometown, Aedes Elysiae, and survived on village odd jobs–chopping woods, fixing fences. His calloused hands are a far cry from the brass knuckles of his past. His old family home was long gone. Burnt into flames along with his parents.
Cyrene, Phainon’s older sister by five years, was the only one who stuck by him after the fall. A woman whose presence demanded attention despite her unassuming frame. A woman with deceptive kind eyes and a sharp tongue. She’d carved her own path running a small apothecary in the village, mixing herbs and remedies for ailments. She’d fled the city long before Phainon.
Cyrene had raised Phainon in all but name, teaching him to fight, to survive, even as he fell into Lygus’ orbit. When he got out of prison, scarred and broken, she was the one who tracked him down, dragging him back to Aedes Elysiae with a sack of her savings and a warning:
“Don’t waste this chance, idiot.”
The door creaks open and the air inside is heavy. Phainon’s good eye flicks to the loft above the main room.
Always that fucking loft.
A flicker of dull strawberry hair appeared before an audible sound of the attic hatch closed. He sighs and begins fixing his meal.
Life had chewed him up and spat him out and now he was stuck in this dump with a ghost for a roommate.
The signs were subtle at first.
A creak in the rafters when no wind stirred. A flicker of blond hair in the loft above the main room. Phainon dismissed it as the house settling, until Cyrene visited to drop off a crate of preserved fruit. She paused mid-step, her sharp eyes squinted at the loft’s trapdoor, her brow furrowing.
“Something’s up there,” She said, her tone matter-of-fact, like she’d spotted a spider. “And it’s not just your bad housekeeping.”
Phainon, hauling firewood inside, scoffed. “Rats, maybe? This place is a wreck”
Cyrene’s lips curled into a sly smile, her bangles clinking as she pointed at the trapdoor. “But rats don’t have eyes like that, little brother. Look”
Phainon turned his good eye and followed her gaze and froze.
Golden glowing eyes gleamed from the shadows and framed by wild dulled strawberry blond hair.
Watching.
Waiting.
Before he could speak, the trapdoor snapped shut.
“Huh, a cute little ghost,” Cyrene smiled, adjusting a hairpin with a flourish.
“You’ve landed yourself a haunted cabin and you didn’t even charm Torren for a discount. Amateur” Her teasing held an edge of curiosity, her gaze lingering on the loft.
“Good luck, Phainon. Spirits don’t linger for nothing”
Ghosts weren’t unheard of in these parts. The village elders spoke of spirits lingering in old homes, bound by grief or unfinished business. Cyrene, with her knowledge and knack for superstitions, knew more than most.
Back when he was a child, Cyrene had always glimpsed things Phainon couldn’t see–shadows that moved wrong and whispers that carried weight. She’d go rigid mid-stride, her small hand clamping his, her eyes glazing over as if a veil had thinned just for her.
Phainon didn’t believe in that nonsense, but he couldn’t deny what he’d seen.
He stormed to the village’s property manager, a wiry old man named Torren, who just chuckled behind his cluttered desk.
“Haunted? That's news to me,” Torren said, scratching his beard, “ You bought it as-is. If you want a new place? I got one! But it’ll cost you triple, plus a deposit”
Phainon’s good eye narrowed, the scarred side of his face pulling tight. He couldn’t afford to move, not with his meager earnings and his record slamming every door shut.
When he recounted it to Cyrene at her apothecary, she laughed. “Torren’s a greedy worm, but he’s not wrong. Mydei’s the town's local ghost. The village whispers say they have been in that cabin since before our grandparent’s time. Apparently he’s waiting for his husband, scaring off anyone else.” She leaned forward, her pink sundress shimmering under the lantern light. “But I’d wager that the ghost is tied to something you’re not seeing, little brother. Old places hold secrets.”
She slid a vial of liquid across the counter. “And rub this on your scars. It’ll ease the pain, even if you’re too stubborn to admit you need it.”
Back at the cabin, Phainon tried to ignore the ghost. He drops his axe by the door, the clatter echoing. His hands, calloused from splitting logs, ache as he rubs them together.
The ghost, named “Mydei” stayed in the loft, silent but ever-present.
He lights the fire, the crackle drowning out the forest’s whispers. His stomach growls, but Cyrene’s stew from yesterday is gone, leaving only a stale bread. He tears off a chunk anyway, chewing mechanically.
The loft creaks and Phainon’s good eye snaps up, catching a glint of blond hair.
Mydei’s watching again, silent as ever.
“Fine, keep staring” Phainon mutters, tossing the bread crust onto the table. His voice scraped raw from shouting at Torren earlier. Fucker.
According to Cyrene, Mydei’s husband, some long-gone bastard, supposedly keeps the ghost tethered.
Waiting.
For what?
Phainon doesn’t care. But those eyes–fuck, they’re everywhere.
And now he’s hard. It has been since he gotten home.
Mydei’s gaze does that to him, sets his blood on fire.
Phainon doesn’t bother hiding it anymore so he leans back in his chair, unbuttons his pants, and pulls out his cock.
The air’s cold, but his skin’s burning. He strokes himself, slow at first, eyes locked on the loft.
Mydei’s there, golden eyes wide, unblinking, drinking in every move as Phainon’s thumb swipes over the head, precum beading.
Mydei.
Mydei.
Mydei.
Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei.Mydei—-
“Mydei” he groans, the name spilling out like a curse. His hands move faster, the coarse rag he keeps for this is crumpled beside him.
He’s done this before, night after night, jerking off to those eyes.
Phainon comes hard, cum soaking the rag–his moans echoing. He looks up and sees Mydei’s eyes glowing brighter, unwavering. Like they’re feeding off him.
“Fuck your husband,” Phainon pants, wiping his cock with the crusty rag.
It wasn’t fear he felt, but a strange pull, like Mydei was studying–waiting for something.
The village was a dead end. Old drunks at the tavern spouted nonesense from crumbling forums–leave bread, pour wine, burn sage to “appease the spirit”. Others muttered about exorcisms, a village priest waving incense like a goddamn medieval roleplayer.
Phainon wasn’t wasting his stale bread or the few coins he scraped from chopping wood on that superstitious crap. He’d faced down assassinations and taken brass knuckles to the jaw.
He didn’t need old wives’ tales to handle a ghost who wouldn’t quit staring.
But the loneliness had carved a hollow in his chest, a desperate ache that made Mydei’s unyielding stare both a torment and salvation.
Frustrated, his obsession with Mydei unknowingly grew, those golden eyes keep haunting his thoughts. He’d jerk off into an old rag, regardless if the ghost was watching, never stopping his moans–low, guttural, Mydei’s name spilling out as he came, the cum-soaked rag is a testament to his hunger.
He’d beaten his dick relentlessly to Mydei that his cock was raw and flushed red. He was even desperate enough to have gone to Cyrene for her pain-relief ointment, muttering some half-assed lie about his burn scars acting up in the damp when in reality, he’d slathered the cool, herbal ointment over his tender length, hissing through gritted teeth as it soothed the sting.
Mydei would hover in the shadows, golden eyes wide, unblinking, drinking in every shudder and grunt. But Phainon didn’t care if Mydei saw–he wanted him to, wanted those eyes on him. His desire for Mydei burned hotter each night.
Jealousy twists in his gut–
Mydei’s husband.
That long gone bastard is the reason why he has a ghost as a roommate.
A spoiled little thing who didn’t clean, didn’t cook, or didn’t toss a single coin for rent. Just haunted the loft with those golden eyes trailing Phainon’s every move, like he was waiting for some long-gone bastard who wasn’t him.
“It's useless,” Phainon muttered one night, tossing the rag aside, his cock still twitching.
Mydei better not be some wispy and faceless geriatric.
If Phainon was jerking off to him, he damn well hoped the ghost was worth the fantasy.
Months passed, and Phainon’s life settled into a grind. He chopped wood for the village, repaired roofs, and occasionally won a few coins at cards in the tavern. His body ached and his diet was barely enough to sustain him. When he stared at the mirror, it showed a man with hollow cheeks and tired eyes.
Cyrene’s visits were a lifeline, her presence kept Phainon grounded. She’d sweep in, always with supplies–bread, salves, or a bottle of her wine.
“You’re wasting away,” she’d say, tossing him a loaf. “Eat, or I’ll force-feed you like when you were ten.” She’d eye the loft, sensing Mydei’s presence even when he stayed hidden.
Mydei was always there, watching. Phainon felt it most at night, when he collapsed onto his mattress, too tired to shower off the day’s grime. Those cat-like glowy eyes would peer down from the attic, unblinking and curious.
It should’ve been unsettling, but Phainon found it… oddly comforting?
At least someone—or something—didn’t look at his scars with pity, but with a quiet intensity that made Phainon feel seen.
He’d use that cum rag again, picturing Mydei, moaning his name louder when he felt those eyes from the loft, the ghost’s silent gaze made his cock throb harder.
‘Watch me’ He stared back, stripping his dick raw faster, thick cum spilling as Mydei’s eyes widened, locked on the wet rag, before shutting the attic door again with an audible bang.
One stormy night, after a brutal day hauling logs, Phainon collapsed by the fire, his shirt soaked with sweat and rain. The scars on his torso itched under the damp fabric. Cyrene had been there earlier, dropping off a stew and a warning: “Don’t die of stupidity out there,” she’d said, her voice softening as she adjusted his collar. “You’re carrying enough ghost”
The attic hatch creaked open. Phainon’s good eye flicks up, heart kicking. Mydei’s hair catches the moonlight, dull strawberry blond hair spilling over the edge. Those golden eyes lock on him unblinking and cat-like.
“What do you want, huh?” he muttered. “Rent’s paid. This is my place now, not your husband’s.”
The loft creaked louder and Mydei descended, landing silently on the wooden floor. He was bigger than Phainon expected–tall, broad, with the most beautiful face he had ever seen. Both dead and alive. He wore a tattered dress, the fabric clinging to curves that made Phainon’s jaw drop. Massive tits with dark brown nipples that strain through the fabric.
The ghost was visibly not wearing underwear underneath it. Making him catch a glimpse of the bare, plump pussy glistening between Mydei’s thighs.
Phainon’s good eye bugs out, his exhausted brain kicking into overdrive.
“Am I dreaming this?” he mumbled, swaying slightly. “There’s no way a gorgeous man would appear like this. I must be going crazy from my hunger.”
The said ghost didn’t answer, it just tilted his head. Those unblinking glowing eyes locked on Phainon’s with a heat that made his cock twitch. Then, Mydei stepped closer, cool fingers brushing Phainon’s left arm and then grazing the burn scars on his right. The touch was electric, sending a jolt through Phainon’s tired body.
Nobody touched his scars–too ugly, too raw. He’d pulled away, told the ghost to get lost, but something in Mydei’s gaze–hunger? Curiosity? Or maybe loneliness? Mirroring Phainon’s own need–rooting him in place.
“Are you even real?” Phainon murmured, heart racing, his sudden obsession with Mydei flaring despite his exhaustion. “Fuck it, I don’t care anymore” He grabbed Mydei’s wrist, pulling him close and kisses him.
Hard.
Desperate.
It wasn’t cold or grim like Phainon imagined a ghost’s kiss would be.
It was warm, hungry, tasting faintly of mint and something sweet, like the pomegranate candies he ate when he was a child.
Phainon groans, his hands gripping Mydei’s hips, pulling him flush. The kiss deepened, messy and desperate, tongues clashing. Mydei hums softly, pressing closer, those breasts squashing against Phainon’s chest. His fingers caressing Phainon’s hair, gentle around the scarred side.
It fucking aches, that care, stirring Phainon’s want.
Phainon broke away, panting. “Fuck, you’re real,” he said, voice low, his good eye locked on Mydei. “Or maybe I’m just losing it.”
He expected nothing but air, but Mydei was there, warm and pliant, arching into his touch.
Mydei nips his jaw, kissing the scarred cheek, sending heat straight to Phainon’s dick. He hadn’t touched anyone in years, too consumed by survival to care, but now he was starving for it.
Phainon shoves Mydei against the wall, the wood creaking under their weight. He kisses him deeper, his teeth nipping Mydei’s plump lips and drawing a soft whimper. His hands slide under the tattered dress, bunching it up, and exposing Mydei’s unblemished drooling pussy and his impressive hefty chest.
“No panties, huh? Are you waiting for your husband like this? Begging for it?” Phainon murmured, enraptured before he looked up to see the ghost’s enlarged areolas, clearly made for breastfeeding.
Phainon’s jaw tightened, jealousy flaring again because Mydei’s husband, that fucker, might’ve had a kid with him, because those nipples look like it has nursed someone else’s brat.
But he’s here now, whoever Mydei’s husband was, is long gone.
Phainon’s hands wandered under Mydei’s tattered dress, finding smooth skin and a surprisingly solid muscular frame. Mydei’s golden eyes gleamed. He let out a soft, almost inaudible hum, like a cat purring.
“So fucking wet,” Phainon murmurs, his voice rough. He slides a calloused finger inside, then another, curling them just right. Mydei’s virgin-like entrance clenches, a soft moan escaping his lips.
Phainon’s thumb rubs mean circles on Mydei’s clit, the ghost’s knees buckle, his nails digging into Phainon’s shoulders. He slides two scarred fingers inside, scaping against Mydei’s sensitive walls, a possessive edge to his touch as he searches for any traces of that bastard husband’s claim, hitting that soft spongy spot deep inside.
Mydei’s hands claw at Phainon’s shoulders as his hot and sweaty fingers fondles his cunt roughly. The ghost’s body arches into Phainon’s touch, squirming at the rough treatment of his unprotected hole. “You like that, don’t you?” His face nestled into Mydei’s neck, before licking a fat strip up his neck to his sharp cheekbones. Slobbering him with his spit like a dog would.
“Can you speak?” He pauses his fingers, searching Mydei’s face for any sign of hesitation, but the ghost only spreads his legs wider, his golden eyes wide and trusting. The drying spit on his face shines.
“Say my name, slut” Phainon demanded, his fingers withdrawing before he spread Mydei’s pussy lips apart, letting the cold air inside.
“Repeat it after me. Phainon”
“Pa..”
Mydei’s breath hitched, his voice barely a whisper.
“P-Phaihh..ah....♡"
Phainon’s cock throbs. The ghost’s moans grew louder and desperate, his hips bucking against Phainon’s hand.
“That’s it….haaahh” Phainon purrs, fucking his fingers faster, Mydei’s slick coating his hand. “Say my name, slut”
“P-Phai! Phai! Ah! Ah! Phai!”
“Come for me,” Phainon demands, his voice thick with need. Mydei’s body tenses, a cry tearing out from his throat as he comes, slick flooding Phainon’s fingers.
But Phainon didn’t stop, drawing out every shudder until Mydei was limp, his blond hair sticking to his sweaty forehead.
Phainon licks his fingers clean, savoring the sweet and tangy taste. He grabs his cum-crusted rag, wiping Mydei’s slick thighs with a grin. “Look at that, my rag’s working overtime again” Mydei watched him, eyes half-lidded, a faint blush on his cheeks, before he limply spread his legs again, shyly flashing Phainon the deeper pink of his hole.
Phainon leans close, breath hot against Mydei’s ear. “I don’t need a condom, right? I can’t afford one, so if you do get pregnant, I’ll take care of you ♡”
He was too far gone, completely overtaken by the primitive need to stuff as much of his seed into the warm fertile (?) body beside him. To fill Mydei’s willing body to the brim until he’s bursting into seams–like an overstuffed ravioli. He laughs breathlessly at the wandering thought, his delirious brain struggling to hold onto something to distract him from Mydei’s presence, the promise of a slick and waiting body begging for him to be fucked with an inch of his undead life.
“Lift one of your legs up and keep still” Phainon orders. Mydei obeys, shamelessly baring his pliant pussy, the rim gaping so much Phainon could almost see the entrance of his cervix. Then, Phainon slaps his thigh hard before gripping his leg.
“Beg. Tell me you want it”
Mydei’s golden eyes widened, “Pah…Pha..i..puh..plea..se..♡?”
Phainon grins, feral. He shoves his pants down, freeing his cock, hard and leaking. He presses it between Mydei’s gapping slit, rubbing the head against the slick folds teasingly. His dick slowly opening the ghost’s tight entrance, dirtying his sacred place, a place once promised to another, now marked with his cum–like a beast staking its territory.
Now his.
Mydei whimpers, hips twitching, and Phainon doesn’t wait anymore–
He trusts in, hard and deep, groaning at the tight and wet heat.
Mydei’s cunt flutters around him, clenching-unclenching-clenching, and Phainon’s vision blurs, his scarred hand gripping Mydei’s hip bruisingly tight. “Fuck,” he grunts, pulling out and slamming back in, the wall rattling. Mydei’s moans are loud and desperate, his nails clawing Phainon’s shoulders.
Phainon fucks him harder, the floorboards creaking under their weight. He leans down, sucking a brown nipple into his mouth, biting just hard enough to make Mydei cry out.
“You’re my wife now,” He says, voice possessive, his scarred hand sliding between them squeezing Mydei’s clit. “You can’t leave me, Mydei. I frankly don’t give a shit about your husband. Try to leave and I’ll burn this fucking precious cabin of yours down with me in it”
“Heaven or hell, I’ll drag you with me.” he says. Mydei’s back arches, his cunt squeezing Phainon’s cock so tight it’s almost painful,
“Say it” Phainon licks his lips as Mydei squirms like a caught fish speared on a hook.
“Yours.. ♡” Mydei sobs, voice trembling. “Ph-Phai’s..♡”
Phainon’s thrusts grow erratic, his balls slapping against Mydei’s now bruised ass.
He’s close.
So fucking close.
Mydei’s moans are pushing him over the edge.
“Come with me,” he snarls, thumb pressing hard on Mydei’s clit. Mydei’s body seizes, a high-pitch cry ripping from his throat as he comes, slick gushing around Phainon’s cock. Phainon follows, groaning Mydei’s name, cum spilling deep inside, filling Mydei’s cunt, some of the sticky white liquid spilling out on his fluttering hole.
He collapses against Mydei, panting, their sweat-slick bodies pressed together. Mydei’s fingers card through Phainon’s hair, gentle.
Phainon feels something crack in his chest. Not fear, Not anger. Something softer and more dangerous.
Phainon doesn’t pull out. He keeps his hips moving, churning the cum he’s already spilled inside. Marking Mydei even further. His oversensitive cock is crying, raw from the intensity, but he doesn’t want to stop.
Mydei’s golden eyes glow softly, watching him. Phainon’s good eye meets them, and for once, he doesn’t feel like he’s a broken thing the world sees.
He feels seen.
The next morning, Phainon woke to an empty cabin. Panic gripped him until he heard a soft hum from the kitchen.
Mydei was there, perched on the counter, his legs swinging.
“You didn’t run,” Phainon says, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen entrance. Mydei tilted his head, offering a small smile.
It was the first time Phainon had seen him look…..content.
Days turned into weeks.
Mydei had become a constant in Phainon’s life.
The ghost was quiet, rarely speaking, but his presence was a balm.
They fell into a rhythm–Phainon worked, Mydei watched, and at night, they tangled together by the fire. Mydei’s touches grew bolder, his kisses hungrier, and Phainon found himself craving the ghost’s cool skin more each day.
But a nagging fear lingered.
What was Mydei’s story?
Why was he here, waiting?
Phainon didn’t want to know, terrified that the answers would take Mydei away to a place he couldn’t follow.
One evening, while Mydei was in the loft, Phainon’s curiosity got the better of him. He rummaged through the cabin’s dusty corners, pulling up loose floorboards.
Under one, he found a tin box, rusted but intact.
Phainon’s breath caught.
Inside was a faded photograph of Mydei, visibly pregnant and glowing with life, his hands cradling the gentle swell of his belly. His strawberry blond hair was vibrant and shorter and much more alive.
A man stood behind him, arms wrapped protectively around Mydei’s waist with a face that looked shockingly familiar.
Phainon’s breath caught.
The person bore an eerie resemblance to him–same jawline, same build, but with eyes of vivid unclouded blue–brighter, brimming with joy and unmarred by facial scars, unlike Phainon’s own milky and damaged gaze.
The resemblance was uncanny, like staring at a past life. His hands shook as he tucked the photo away, heart pounding.
Was he Mydei’s husband?
A doppelgänger?
Or something stranger?
He didn’t tell Mydei about the photo, but the ghost started calling him “husband” after their first night, the word slipping from his lips like it was always meant for Phainon.
It made Phainon seethe.
He refuses to be a stand-in for some deadbeat look-alike who’d left Mydei to haunt his cabin alone because of an unresolved business.
But Mydei’s devotion felt real. His golden eyes fixed on Phainon like he was the only thing that mattered.
After a long day in the village, Phainon returned with a small gift: a golden signet ring he’d bartered for with a months’ wages. It had caught his eye at a market stall and before he could stop himself, he’d bought it.
He later found Mydei in the loft, his golden eyes glowing in the dim light.
“Got something for you,” Phainon says, holding up the ring. Mydei’s eyes widens and he slid down, letting Phainon take his hand and slip the ring onto his finger.
“Ph-Phai…husband….” Mydei’s smile was shy, but he pulled Phainon into a kiss, cool hands wandering lower. Phainon groans as Mydei’s fingers brushed his cock, already hard through his pants.
“Wait, honey…. I haven’t showered yet” he moaned as he let Mydei push him onto the rug, straddling his hips.
Mydei’s hands moved with purpose, stroking Phainon through the coarse fabric, his sensitive dick rubbed raw, each touch sending sparks up his spine.
The ghost’s fingers were deft and teasing–tracing the outline of Phainon’s cock with a deliberate slowness that made his scarred knuckles clench. Then, with a swift tug, Mydei yanked Phainon’s pants down, the fabric pooling around his ankles, leaving him exposed, cock springing free, grazing Mydei’s cheek with its leaking precum.
Mydei leaned in, his dull strawberry-blond hair catching the light and sniffed Phainon’s unwashed dick, a low and primal sound rumbling in his throat. The ghost’s face pressed closer, rubbing against Phainon’s musty length, his cheek nuzzling the sensitive skin, like a cat marking its territory.
Phainon’s breath caught at the striking contrast between Mydei’s refined features and his own cock, a hiss escaping as Mydei’s tongue darted out, licking a slow and deliberate strip from root to tip, the wet heat of it making Phainon’s hips jerk.
Mydei’s grip tightened around the base, cool fingers wrapping firm, the golden signet ring glinting on his hand–a claim Phainon had staked.
“Shit,” His fingers tangled in Mydei’s blond hair, gripping hard enough to pull a soft mewl from the ghost’s lips. Mydei’s tongue worked relentlessly, lapping at the precum beading at the tip, swirling around the head with a precision that made Phainon’s vision blur.
The ghost’s mouth was a paradox.
Cool yet burning, dead yet so fucking alive.
Mydei’s eyes flicked up, unblinking, drinking in Phainon’s every shudder and every curse that spilled from his lips. His good eye locked on Mydei’s.
The ghost’s only response was to take him deeper, his plump lips stretching around Phainon’s cock, throat tight and welcoming with no gag reflex to slow him down. Phainon’s hips bucked, control fraying as Mydei’s tongue teased every ridge and every vein– the wet and obscene sounds filling the cabin.
“Fuck, honey” Phainon groans, yanking harder on the ghost’s hair. The ring glinted as Mydei pumped the base, slick with spit and precum. His other hand cupped Phainon’s ballsacks, rolling them gently, sending a jolt through Phainon’s core. The ghost was relentless, mouth working with a fervor that felt like a worship.
Like Mydei was claiming him just as much as Phainon was claiming the ghost.
Mydei hummed around him, the vibration sending Phainon dangerously close to the edge. His scarred hand tightened in Mydei’s hair, holding him in place as he fucked the ghost’s mouth, each thrust harder and deeper. The wet heat drove him wild.
Mydei’s eyes never left his, glowing brighter, feeding off Phainon’s desperation–his need.
“Look at you,” Phainon panted, thumb brushing Mydei’s stretched lips, smearing spit, “Taking me so good, honey” Mydei’s nails dug into Phainon’s thighs, leaving faint crescent marks, his control fraying fast.
He pulls the ghost off before he loses it too soon. He flips them over, pinning Mydei beneath him on the rug. Mydei’s dress rode up, exposing the smooth expanse of his thighs and the glistening slick between them. Phainon’s good eye raked over him, takin in the curve of his hips, his nipples straining against the fabric, begging to be touched.
“Did you remove your panties again?” Phainon murmured, voice rough with want. “I already bought you a bunch you know? And I know you ditch ‘em because I’m the one slipping them on you every morning because you keep forgetting to wear one”
Mydei’s eyes widened, a soft “husband..♡” escaping his lips. His voice trembled, almost ashamed of his lewd behavior.
“My turn” He yanks Mydei’s waist up, spreading his legs and diving in, tongue lapping at Mydei’s slick cunt from hole to clit.
The ghost tastes like heaven, sweet and heady. A nectar that coated Phainon’s lips and tongue, intoxicating him with every swipe of his tongue. He pressed deeper, his tongue curling into Mydei’s tight entrance, savoring the slick that pulsed against his mouth. His lips closed around the sensitive clit, sucking gently at first, before chomping it with his teeth gently, which drew sharp gasps from Mydei.
The ghost’s thighs trembled violently, clamping around Phainon’s head as he worked, his nose brushing the soft and weeping slit, inhaling the musky scent that drove him wild, his hot breath tickling the pretty pink of Mydei’s insides.
Phainon’s hands gripped Mydei’s hips, anchoring him as he devoured, licking broad and hungry stripes before plunging his tongue back inside, chasing every drop of slick that gushed forth. Mydei’s screams echoed through the loft, high and desperate, his body writhing as Phainon’s relentless assault pushed him closer to edge, sticky release flooding against Phainon’s chin in a wet gush.
Phainon crawled up, his lips glistening with Mydei’s essence and kissed Mydei hard, letting the ghost taste the sweet tang of himself on Phainon’s lips. “You’re perfect” he rasps, his hands still clutching Mydei’s trembling form.
He hauled Mydei up onto his hands and knees, the ghost’s dress hiked up around his waist, ass presented like an offering–leaving him utterly naked from the waist down, vulnerable and exposed, while Phainon remained fully dressed, his pants shoved down just enough to free his cock. Phainon gripped Mydei’s hips hard, thumbs digging into the soft flesh, but he didn’t thrust in–not yet.
Instead, he teases.
He drags the heavy length of his cock along the cleft of Mydei’s plush cheeks, the ghost’s skin cool against his burning heat. Phainon watched, transfixed, as his length slid against the glistening valley of Mydei’s pretty cunt, the folds parting slightly under the pressure.
Phainon pinches the base of the pussy, putting the lips together on his cock and fucks them without entering Mydei’s slit. A low moan tore from his throat as he squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing harder against the ghost’s reddened plump pussy, using Mydei’s body like a sex toy.
He slapped his cock down hard- once, twice, three times-against Mydei’s folds. The wet smacks echoing at the cabin. Then he moved to Mydei’s ass, striking it with his cock, each impact leaving a blooming welt, the force bruising the sensitive skin into mottled purple blooms that matched the hand prints already there, buttocks jiggling with every strike.
“Look at that” Phainon pants. He holds his sensitive dick with unsteady hands as he angled lower, tapping the fat head of his cock against Mydei’s swollen clit again, rubbing teasing circles that made the ghost’s thighs quake as fresh slick weep against his untouched slit.
“You’re so desperate, honey….. Dripping for me already” Phainon rasped, “But what if I don’t give it to you here, huh? What if I fuck your tight virgin ass instead? Leave your greedy snatch empty and your womb starving for what it won’t get?”
Mydei whimpered, his hips buckling back involuntarily, his eyes glossy with need as he shook his head in silent plea.
Phainon chuckled, delivering one last punishing slap to Mydei’s inflamed clit with cock before lining himself up, pushing his dick around that fluttering hungry entrance mouthing his tip, eager for the precious precum beading at his slit.
With a single brutal snap of his hips, he buries himself to that tight and welcoming heat. Mydei’s cry echoed off the cabin walls, his back arching as Phainon set a punishing rhythm--pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in, the force of it jolting Mydei forward on his elbows.
Phainon’s abdomen pressed flush against Mydei’s lower back with every deep plunge, the power of his thrusts against Mydei’s ass leaves bruises that throbs blooming across the skin of his pubic bone. Mydei fared no better–his buttocks turned a deep red, with hand-shaped imprints of Phainon’s bruising grip lingering like signatures, tender and swollen from the relentless pounding.
“Fuck, I can’t believe you used to be married” Phainon cooes, one hand fisting Mydei’s hair to yank his head back, forcing those glowing eyes to meet his. “How are you going to be a mommy if you kept acting like a slut?” Before shoving down Mydei’s face-first into the rug. The wet slaps of their bodies colliding is deafeningly loud in the silence of the cabin.
“Ah! Ah! Phai! Ah! Ah…♡”
He wanted more-he wanted to claim Mydei. Ruin him and make him his.
He twisted Mydei’s body without removing his cock inside and hooked the ghost’s legs over his shoulders, folding him in half, knees pressed to his chest as his heavy weight bears down Mydei in a mating press. A position that Mydei can’t easily escape. Mydei’s eyes widened, a soft whimper escaping, his body pliant under Phainon’s weight.
He pushes in, slow at first, savoring the tight, wet clutch of Mydei’s cunt.
“It feels so good honey haaah..♡ I don’t think I can come again if it’s not with you” Phainonn groans, setting a brutal pace, hips slamming down, the angle driving his cock deep, kissing Mydei’s empty cervix.
Mydei’s moans are desperate, his legs trembling, pinned under Phainon’s weight. The cabin fills with the sound of skin on skin, Mydei’s cries, and Phainon’s grunts.
“Tell your ex-husband I’ve ruined you,” Phainon reached out, hus thumb pressing harder on Mydei’s clit, “Because no man will ever have you now” Mydei’s face contorted into a drooling and debauched mess, his eyes rolling back. He was fucked so hard that he unconsciously stuck out his tongue in a shameless display that outdid any pornstar.
“I’ll put a babe in you,” Phainon says, voice low and deliberate, “and another after you push that one out. You’ll give me a big family, honey”
It’s not a question–it’s a promise.
Phainon would keep breeding him, filling him until Mydei’s past husband and child, are nothing but faded echoes.
He’ll soon replace them until Mydei can only think of him and their future children.
Mydei’s thighs shake violently, his pussy milking Phainon’s cock for every drop. Phainon followed, groaning Mydei’s name, cum spilling deep, flooding Mydei’s womb–Marking him again. His hips keep rolling, savoring every shudder and every pulse, despite the raw ache in his cock.
When he pulls out, Mydei seizes the chance to slip free from Phainon’s weight, crossing his hands between his legs to shield his bruised and gaping pussy from Phainon’s gaze. Thick cum overflowed in between his fingers dripping in uncomfortable rivulets, but the ghost held still- too spent to endure another round.
“Phai…..no…more…” Mydei gasps unevenly, still cupping a hand over his sore pussy, attempting to scoot away on weak legs again as he eyed Phainon’s rising cock.
Phainon reached down, grasping his half-hard cock harshly until it softened, a concession to Mydei’s plea. “No more? You’re so cute, Mydei. You know I’ll follow any request of yours if you speak out” he indulged, voice softening,
“But if you ever say you want to leave me, I’d never grant it.”
Mydei relaxes, allowing Phainon to pull him into a possessive cuddle, their bodies pressed close.
The golden ring glints on Mydei’s finger, a claim as real as the cum still dripping from his cunt. As they drifted off, Phainon’s hand rested on Mydei’s hip, heavy and unyielding, knowing he’ll never let him go.
He hopes Mydei gets pregnant. After all, a pregnant belly would make it harder for him to leave.
Why do birds suddenly appear
Every time you are near?
Just like me, they long to be
Close to you
The cabin was a sanctuary of warmth, the fire crackling in the hearth, its golden light dancing across the rough-hewn walls, casting long, flickering shadows.
Mydei stood at the hearth, stirring a pot of stew, humming. The rich scent of venison and herbs curling through the air, mingling with the faint sweetness of pomegranate candies cooling on the worn wooden table Phainon had built ages ago.
His belly, heavy and rounded at six months pregnant. It bore the life he and Phainon had created– a vow made flesh.
The loose dress–Phainon’s old shirt, tailored to fit his swollen frame–clung softly to his skin, warm from the fire’s heat and the love that filled this space. His once-muscular frame had softened, curves replacing sharp edges. Every kick from their babe reminded him of the future he and his husband were building. Their promise.
Outside, the forest lay hushed under a blanket of snow, the world is holding its breath for the coming snowstorm. But inside, the cabin pulsed with life, alive with the rhythm of their shared heartbeats. Mydei’s heart felt full, heavy with love and the weight of the life growing inside him, a tether to the man who had become his world.
Why do stars fall down from the sky
Every time you walk by?
Just like me, they long to be
Close to you
Phainon–his Phainon–stood behind him, arms wrapping around Mydei’s waist, careful not to press too hard on the swell of his belly. His hands were rough, calloused from the years of chopping wood for the village, helping the villagers reinforce their roofs against the brutal winter storms, and hunting wild boars that prowled the forest’s edge.
Those hands, once accustomed to wielding an axe with brutal precision, now lay reverent, splaying across Mydei’s belly and following where their child restlessly kicks. Phainon’s calloused fingers traced gentle circles over the spot, soothing the restless babe within.
“You’re glowing,” his Phainon murmured, voice low, lips brushing Mydei’s ear. His breath was warm, carrying the faint sweetness of the pomegranate candies Mydei had made for him, a treat Phainon could never resist, his eyes lighting up like a child’s whenever Mydei pressed a sticky piece to his lips.
Mydei leaned back into him, savoring the solid warmth of Phainon’s chest and the steady beat of his heart against his spine. It was a rhythm Mydei knew better than his own, a song that grounded him when the world felt too heavy.
On the day that you were born, the angels got together
And decided to create a dream come true
So they sprinkled moon dust in your hair
Of gold and starlight in your eyes of blue
Mydei hummed an old tune, one his mother sang to him before she died, her voice a distant echo of comfort against his father’s sharp criticisms. His body swaying as he remembers his own mom swaying him close.
An orphan and a foreigner.
The villagers had whispered that about him, their words sharp as thorns, but Phainon–his Phainon had seen him, really seen him– past the labels and past the pain.
And that made him feel like he belonged.
“HKS, flatterer,” Mydei teased, turning his head to steal a soft peck from Phainon’s lips. Those vibrant blue eyes held him with the same fierce intensity that has captured Mydei years ago, back when Phainon was the village’s most sought after bachelor.
That is why all the girls in town (Girls in town)
Follow you (Follow you) all around (All around)
A man whose broad shoulders and easy grin drew every eligible girl like moths to a flame. But Phainon pursued him with a stubbornness that bordered on obsession.
Mydei could scarcely believe Phainon had chosen him, an orphan cast out by his father after his mother’s death, a foreigner who’d stumbled into Aedes Elysiae with nothing but a tattered bag.
The village girls had swarmed Phainon, batting their lashes, offering baskets of bread and coy smiles, but Phainon’s eyes had always found Mydei.
Lingering on him across the market square, through the smoke of tavern fires, and during the long nights when Mydei thought he'd be alone forever.
Just like me, they long to be
Close to you
Three years of Phainon’s relentless courtship–wildflowers left on Mydei’s doorstep, stolen moments by the river where Phainon would pull him close and whisper promises, and nights spent talking until the stars faded–had worn down Mydei’s walls.
Mydei had resisted at first, convinced it was a cruel jest, that someone like Phainon–strong, vital, and the village’s golden son–couldn’t want someone like him.
But Phainon proved him wrong.
Day after day, with a patience that wore down Mydei’s walls, he realized Phainon’s love was as real as the callouses on his hands, as unshakable as the pines outside their cabin.
“You’re stuck with me now, honey,” Phainon had said the night Mydei finally said yes, sealing it with a searing kiss that tasted of candied pomegranates and forever.
Why? Close to you
Now, Phainon’s hands slid lower, tracing the curve of Mydei’s hips, fingers brushing the hem of the dress.
“Can’t help it,” Phainon murmured, voice rough with affection, his lips grazing Mydei’s neck.
“You’re too damn gorgeous like this, carrying our kid. Your beauty is almost unreal”
Mydei’s cheeks warmed, a soft laugh escaping as he swatted Phainon’s hand playfully. “Keep those hands to yourself, Phai, or this stew will burn. You’ll be eating charred venison for a week”
Phainon chuckled, the sound rumbling against Mydei’s back and pressed another kiss to his neck, lingering, as if memorizing the taste of his skin and the pulse that beat.
“You think I’ll be a good father?” Phainon asked, his voice quieter now. Almost shy, a rare crack in the confidence he wore like armor.
Mydei turned in his arms, resting his hands on Phainon’s broad shoulder, thumbs tracing the faint scars from boar hunts and splintered logs–the marks of a man who’d carved a place for them in this unforgiving village.
“I know you will, Phai” Mydei said, his golden eyes searching Phainon’s blue ones, seeing the flicker of doubt that lingered from a life of proving himself.
“You’re already everything to me. To us”
He guided Phainon’s hand back to his belly, letting him feel another kick, a silent vow from their child.
Why? Close to you
Phainon’s expression softened, but a shadow passed through his eyes. The weight of the world outside their cabin–the village’s expectations, the whispers of his own past, the deals he’d made to keep them safe.
Mydei knew Phainon carried burdens he wouldn’t share, but here, in this moment, they were untouchable.
He leaned up, kissing Phainon slow and deep, tasting the sweet tang of pomegranates and the smoke of the hearth, the world shrinking to just them and the life growing between them.
Ha, Close to you
That night, they lay tangled on the rug by the hearth, Phainon’s hand resting on Mydei’s belly, feeling the babe’s gentle kicks. Mydei’s strawberry blond hair spilled across Phainon’s chest, his husband twirling a strand, smiling that crooked grin that still made Mydei’s heart stutter.
“I’ll build a crib tomorrow,” Phainon says, his voice still rough from a day of shouting orders to the village men as they braced for the snow storm. “Something sturdy. For our kid”
Mydei nestled closer, kissing Phainon’s jaw and tasting salt and sweetness. “You’d better,” he murmured, a teasing edge to his voice. “I’m not raising this babe in a drafty cabin without one”
As sleep pulled him under, Mydei whispered, “You’re my home, Phai. Always”
The words were a vow, a tether, binding him to this cabin.
To this love, even long after his body turned to dust.
He didn’t know then, that it would be their last night like this–before the fire that would claim Phainon, before the betrayal that would tear him from Mydei’s arms, before the village turned its back on the foreigner-
Left alone.
Mydei could wait.
He would haunt this cabin, his golden eyes searching for his Phainon through the years, until he returned–not as a memory, but as flesh.
The pomegranate candies, the kicks of their forever unborn child, the warmth of Phainon’s arms–
They lingered in Mydei’s soul,
A dream the angels had once made true.
Why? Close to you