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You really should’ve been more skeptical when the price of your new apartment just seemed too good to be true. You didn’t care, it was too perfect to pass up. It’s close to work, the neighbors are quiet and nice, the elevator actually works. The downside is that you’re pretty sure it’s haunted. There isn’t blood or slime dripping from the walls, no terrifying nightmares plaguing you but there’s definitely… something around you, watching you. You didn’t notice it at first, you rationalize misplaced objects and mysteriously broken cups and plates as stress from the move. But after a month you can’t find any more excuses for missing clothes and randomly torn sheets.
“Okay, I get it!” you shout into your empty apartment when your T.V. cycles through channels so quickly it makes your head spin, “I’m living in your home and you’re upset, but I’m not leaving! Since you won’t actually speak to me, maybe you can talk in a different way. I’ll be back soon.”
You leave a piece of scrap paper and pen on your table when you leave. When you come back you find one word in small, neat handwriting. Shouta.
✰ ✰ ✰
You can live with a ghost, you actually think it’s kind of cool at first. You manage to get some more information from your spirit roommate by using a notepad. He writes how old he was when he died, how he loved cats, his birthday, but nothing as important as his name. He doesn’t ever actually appear in front of you, but you manage to catch glimpses of him in mirrors and reflections on your phone screen. You know he sits by you on the couch when you watch movies, the air around you grows icy and the seat beside you sinks a little.
He’s helpful, always floating things over to you when you need them and turning off your lights when you’re too cozy to leave your bed. You actually like him a lot, even if the two of you have never really talked.
That is, until he starts doing creepy things.
Normally when you’d change or shower he’d tinker with objects in the living room to show that he wasn’t peeping. Recently, however, you’ve stopped hearing things outside your door and instead feel ghostly fingers graze against your bare back.
Every time it happens you jump about a foot in the air and whip around like you’ll actually see Shouta standing there. You never do.
You’ve been waking up at all hours of the night, jolting awake when the temperature under your covers takes a nosedive. A dip in the mattress like there’s someone laying next to you. You can’t bring yourself to say anything, to move, you just stare at the empty space until you end up falling asleep again.
You randomly end up spending a night at a friends house after your car breaks down and you experience the first uninterrupted rest in weeks. You decide you have to get rid of Shouta.
You start to spend more time out of the house, you don’t need him looming over your shoulder to see you researching exorcisms. You don’t want to spend money to have some phony come over just to sprinkle some salt and take your cash, so you decide to do it yourself. You find some random occult website that doesn’t look too sketchy and begin to prepare. You buy candles and chalk, you think it’s strange that it asks for a lock of your hair and some blood but you ignore the warning in your gut to do as it says.
✰ ✰ ✰
You finish sketching the circle and prick your finger with a pin, wincing as you squeeze out a drop of blood onto the floor. The moment it hits the tile, Shouta appears in his translucent phantom glory. Even in death, he looks tired, you briefly think that he actually looks quite handsome. His long hair falls around his shoulders as he looks down at where you’re kneeling, his face like that of a disapproving teacher.
“Did you really want to be rid of me that badly?” his voice is nice, deep and smooth, but a little odd, it almost sounds like there are multiple people speaking at once.
“Huh,” you say intelligently, “you’re a real ghost.”
Shouta sighs, “Of course I am. Now can you please stop this, you aren’t doing it right.”
You ignore him, you’ve already come this far and you really don’t find his antics cute anymore. “Shouta, listen, I’m sorry but I need you out of here. Don’t you wanna rest in peace anyway?”
“If you fuck this up something bad can happen. Really bad.”
“Whatever,” you’re not going to waste time talking to a ghost, you pull your laptop closer to you and start to read the incantation off the website.
“Hey, hey!” Shouta tries to step forward and close your laptop but your binding ritual seems to have actually worked, he can’t step outside of the circle you’ve drawn. “Quit it! That’s not gonna get me to leave!” his voice warbles and he groans like he’s in pain.
You flick your eyes up at him and see a shadow pass over his face, his eyes going from black to red and back in an instant. Anxiety creeps up your spine but you keep reciting the spell. You speed through the last sentence as quickly as you can, a sick anticipation building in your stomach like the moment in a movie right before the jumpscare.
You can’t look up to see if Shouta is gone, you know he isn’t. Or maybe he is. You just know that you don’t think you can look up to see what’s panting like a beast in your living room.
The dead silence in between its breaths and thick dread presses around you like a perverted hug. You realize you’re trembling, fear gripping you so tightly you feel bile rising in the back of your throat. You are positive you won’t like what you’ll see but you have to know, you have to look up.
You manage to lift your head to face two crimson eyes suspended in swirling darkness. What looks like black smoke rolls off it in waves in time with its breathing. The top of its head grazes your ceiling even as it’s hunched over, you can’t wrap your head around how enormous it is. Pinned under the stare of that thing you can barely manage to breathe, as if it’s reaching out and physically crushing you. Something about its gaze feels familiar, but that can’t be. Right? Oh shit.
“Shouta?” you manage to squeak out.
The creature tilts his head and rumbles so loudly that it makes you jump, hands flying to your mouth to cover your little gasp.
He makes the same noise again, like a thunderstorm rolling through your living room, almost like he’s laughing. You feel slightly more at ease somehow. At least you didn’t summon theDevil, an evil you know is better than one you don’t, right? Your mind adjusts a bit to his figure, still vaguely human but so wrong. Whenever he breathes it’s like his whole form changes, wriggling and shifting unnaturally, like when you pass your hand through smoke. You’re fascinated by him but you can’t deny that he looks absolutely terrifying. You’re sure that if you manage to get out of this alive you’ll have nightmares for days.
You swallow down your fear to speak, “Shouta, what… what did I do to you?”
He’s silent for a moment, eyes sparkling with some dark amusement.
“You broke whatever ties I had to this place, to my life, I can barely remember anything now.”
“Thats, uh, good! Right? Now you can leave!”
His booming laugh falls over you like ice water, his ruby eyes catch in the light and you feel a scream start to build in your throat. “You’re so stupid. Now I can touch you.”
He moves, the first heavy thud of his foot hitting the floor makes you shriek and jump up just to land back down on your behind. Your arms shoot back to hold you up so you don’t fall completely on your back and your mind screams at you to get up, run, do anything, but you can’t. You just watch, helpless, as he slinks towards you, rolling his shoulders like he’s getting comfortable in his new form. Your head tilts back to keep eye contact with him, he takes up your entire field of vision.
Writhing shadow lifts toward you. A hand, you realize, inhuman as it is. It’s big, gargantuan compared to you. He makes to grip your throat then pulls back like he realizes that, if he does so, he could hold your entire head in his palm. You watch a lone tendril, a finger, move forward and wrap around your neck. The knuckles of his other fingers press against your chest, you can feel your heart thudding against them. You’re surprised that under the shadow there is something corporeal, something so warm and weighty.
Shouta leans forward and opens his mouth, the several rows of sharp, jagged teeth staring back at you makes your heart nearly stop. His tongue lolls out, inky black and impossibly long with shiny spit coating every inch. Why does the sight of it make you feel… excited? No, that can’t be it.
His tongue makes contact with the corner of your mouth first before it slides slowly across your face, up against your cheek and back down again. It’s so warm and almost nauseatingly slick that it makes you shudder and dig your fingernails into the floor. He licks the sweat away from your temples before sliding down to your neck, almost like he’s grooming you. His breath fans across your skin, goosebumps spreading over your arms and legs despite the warmth.
The tip of his tongue wriggles against your lips, pushing and prodding languidly until he gets impatient and forcefully parts them to press his tongue against your teeth. You don’t know why but you open your mouth for him and are rewarded with a chuckle that almost sounds like he’s purring, the sound echoes in your chest.
It can hardly be called a kiss, his tongue fills and explores your mouth until you gag at the sensation of it slipping past the back of your throat. You’re alarmed when you realize you can’t breathe, hands frantically pawing at his finger around your throat. Shouta doesn’t move, just continues worming his tongue around inside you until you’re lightheaded, until you think you’re going to pass out. It starts to sound like you’re underwater, your pulse thudding in your ears as the edges of your vision begins to black out.
He finally pulls back, taking his tongue and hand away as you sputter and suck in greedy gulps of air. You feel him on you again once your coughing subsides, eagerly palming your chest like he didn’t almost kill you.
You feel so faint and weak that you don’t protest when he drags his hand down your torso, ripping through your clothes with ease. You sob when a claw catches on your nipple. It seems to amuse him, he gives a pleased hum as he throws your torn clothes to the side.
He flips you onto your stomach, so quick and rough it punches the air out of your lungs. You’re still disoriented, vision swimming as you try to lift yourself up. One massive hand holds your head down to the floor, your face turned to the side so you’re still able to see him if you strain, and his other tears your pants away to shreds. The tips of his claws graze your thighs none too kindly as he knocks your legs apart, you wince at the pain and hope he doesn’t rip through your skin.
As if he can read your thoughts, you wouldn’t be surprised if he could in this form, he speaks, “I don’t intend to harm you, little one.”
“So let me go!”
He laughs, “I also don’t intend to do that, you don’t want me to anyway.”
Before you can ask why he’d say that, he slips a hand between your legs. You’re mortified to find yourself incredibly turned on, you didn’t even notice the wires for fear and arousal getting crossed and intertwined.
You sob, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to hide your face on your floor.
“Want to know something I remember about being alive?” he voice grates against your ears, you hate that you’re beginning to like it. “Pretty little things like you were just my type.”
The first touch of his cock against you makes you yelp, it slides between your thighs until it nudges your belly. Your eyes widen, there is no way that is going to fit inside you.
It doesn’t feel human at all, it’s so unnaturally heated and textured that you wonder what it would feel like in your hands.
“Don’t worry,” he humps against you and groans, “I’m not that cruel, I’ll make sure you’re prepared to take me.”
You can’t manage to move more than trembling against him, sighing when his cockhead brushes against you just right, just enough to make the heat between your legs burn even hotter. He snickers at the small, sniveling sounds of pleasure you let out. Pinpricks of shame sparking along your cheeks, somehow embarrassed to be aroused in front of this demon, to be turned on by him, because of him. You can’t help it, the anticipation of him splitting you open on his cock has you panting as he humps you, he’s just so enormous, so all-encompassing and warm against you.
The tip of his cock leaks against you, spreading heated slick across your stomach. You feel something damp and warm prod against you and you choke on a moan. Shouta’s tongue licks in circles, his thick spit pooling on your skin until he pushes inside. It’s a strange feeling, having something so slicked up and smooth writhing around inside you. You listen to his open mouthed pants as he pumps his tongue in and out of you, you swear that with every push inside it grows bigger, thicker. You bring your hand between your legs to feel where he’s pushing inside you and you groan at the feeling of his spit sliding down your fingers.
“Go on,” he slurs, “touch yourself.”
You whimper and take your shining wet fingers away to do as he says. His tongue still moves in and out of you at a steady pace, even as your insides spasm and clamp down on him.
“Oh, are you going to cum?”
You nod as best you can, cheek squishing onto the floor as you work your fingers over yourself frantically. You can’t believe you’re actually about to cum but you can’t even pretend that you don’t want to. You push yourself back onto his tongue as you work yourself through your orgasm, whining and panting all the while.
Your hand falls away even as he continues to thrust his tongue inside, stretching you until he’s satisfied. When his tongue slips out you feel hollow and empty, already aching to be filled by him again.
Shouta slams one hand by your head, snarling. “You’re ready now.”
You watch, horrified, as his talons sink into the floor just an inch away from your face when he begins to mount you. His other hand pushes down on your back to hold you in place as he pushes into you.
Tears cling to your lashes, his cock is too big even after he stretched you so much. It’s uncomfortable at first, it aches and burns so badly that you bite the inside of your cheek to distract yourself. Shouta’s tongue licks the tears away from your face, it feels oddly soothing. You hear his claws pop out of the floor beside you, one by one thunking out of the tile as he sinks further into you.
When he reaches between your legs you panic, talons should not be going there. He grunts when you squirm but continues to move, he’s smart enough not to claw you when he pushes a bent finger between your legs for you to hump against. The pleasure makes you relax a fraction, sighing and trying to push yourself forward onto his knuckle.
“Taking me so well, I never would’ve known you’re such a whore.”
You jerk and feel yourself tighten around him, “I’m— ah— not! ’M not a whore!”
“Yes you are, you’re my little whore now,” he sneers. He finally stills his hips but continues to rub himself against your front. “You’re so tiny, I don’t think you can take all of me inside.”
You feel like you’re going to black out, you’re so full of him that you can barely breathe and there’s more? Pathetic, fucked out noises escape you as he starts to pull out.
“Oh— oh! Fuck, oh, my God!” you cry out when he pushes his cock back inside you.
“No gods here, little one, only me.”
He starts slow, you can’t be sure that it’s for your sake or if it’s because your body is resisting the intrusion so much. But, fuck, it feels good. You’ve never been filled like this before, don’t know if you ever will be again. You’re sure that no amount of your own fingers or human dick or toys will ever make you feel this amazing.
And yet, you want more. You nudge your hips into him, wincing at the pressure that washes over you until pleasure replaces it. He hums and starts to fuck you a little faster, the drag of the unique texture inside you makes you throb. You push one hand onto the floor to prop yourself up and push back into him, chasing the satisfaction of his cock hitting so far inside you.
“Greedy,” he muses.
You yelp as he lifts you up, the way one of his hands can wrap all the way around your torso makes your stomach makes a bolt of heat shoot between your legs.
Shouta’s arms wrap around yours from behind, pushing you against his chest with no room to move. He holds you in place so your arms are pinned between his forearms and biceps. He clasps his hands behind you, colossal palms push against the back of your head forcing you to look down at how you’re splayed open, legs dangling limply.
“Oh,” you hiccup, “fuck.”
Every time he thrusts into you your stomach protrudes, bulging out just enough to be visible, the thought of him sheathing himself fully in you makes you dizzy.
“You want more?” he asks, taunting you, “Do you think you could handle me?”
You don’t know, don’t care, you just want to cum.
“Yes! Fu—ck! Haaaah— yes, yes!” you babble.
He drives the last rest of his cock inside, pushing the thickest part of himself past the last bit of resistance your body has. He’s crammed so deep into you that you think you can feel him in your throat. You keen when you watch your stomach distend. You go blind for a moment when he pulls out and pushes back in, being completely filled is making you woozy. You giggle, hysterical as he forces an orgasm out of you. No matter how much you thrash in his grip you don’t throw him off his rhythm. You wail as he fucks you, you can’t even find the strength to close your mouth. Your tongue slips past your lips and Shouta’s tongue slides into your mouth, not enough to choke you this time. You can feel your combined drool fall onto your stomach and between your legs, sliding against you pleasantly.
Shouta growls, the volume of it shakes your very bones as he presses his hips up into you with such force you think something might break. His hands press down on your head until you’re almost bent in half, you’re so limp and boneless that you can’t even struggle against him.
He doesn’t warn you that he’s cumming, you just feel hot, fat ropes of his seed fill you. It almost burns, his cum is even warmer than his cock and there’s too much for your body to handle. Your stomach pooches out as he fills you, even though so much seeps out of you that you can feel it slide down your thighs and onto the floor.
Shouta’s tongue leaves your mouth to slip down to where you are connected , collecting his spend on his tongue just to shove it into your waiting mouth. You swallow it down eagerly, sucking on his tongue like it’s the last taste of water you’ll ever get.
He pulls his tongue out of your mouth and nuzzles the back of your head, “You’re my plaything forever now, little one.”