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blowjob-horseguy · 4 months

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Steve opened his eyes and above him was a pale man with long curly hair. It fell like buoyant curtains of ringlets from either side of his head, obscuring their surroundings. The man frowned down at him with a fierceness that made Steve think for a second they had met in a tavern one night and Steve had done something to slight him.

Steve opened his mouth to speak and felt a sharp edge be pushed harder onto his throat. Steve's vocal cords froze. Whatever he did, it was really bad. Steve runs through a quick memory catalogue of all the men he's slighted recently and how, so he could know what to start apologizing profusely for.

Did he sleep with his woman? Did he sleep with his man? Did he win too much money from him? Did he lose too much money to him? None of those seemed right.

He considered briefly that he perhaps slept with the man himself but quickly dismissed the idea. If he had bedded anyone with hair like that and this passionate a disposition, he would not need to search for the memory.

He looked closer at his features. Hair so long it could easily be a maidens, and so dark it was almost blue. Thick, furrowed brows and lips thin and white, pressed tight together, sandwiched by dimpled cheeks. His skin was pale enough to look sickly and almost green in hue. Steve definitely would have remembered this face had he seen it before.

"You are awake" said the man.

His voice dragged like wood over coarse sand: like he wasn't used to speaking outloud. Steve got a glimpse of his teeth, Sharp and thin, unlike any other human teeth he had ever seen.

A chill ran down Steve's spine as he realized why.

This is no man; this is a Merrow!

Steve's mother had told him tales of these creatures.

When Steve answered the call to the sea, his mother warned him; beware of the sea maidens they may seem beautiful on the shore, but when they lure you to their home you see their true colors. Green skin and scaley behinds. Teeth sharp enough to tear through flesh, and claws the same.

The men are said to be even uglier, with the faces of hogs and catfish, and they drag sailors down to their dens to enslave them for eternity.

Steve has always been cautious about these monsters; avoiding the bright red cap that was the telltale sign of a merrow. The others on the ship have always ridiculed him for it, and now here he is in one of theirs's clutches.

and it's not... unattractive. Strangely.

"Speak" The merrow demanded

"Please let me go" Steve spoke, his voice breaking embarrassingly.

"Go where" the merrows eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Back to my ship."

"You will attack me."

"No, I won't I promise. I'm a peaceful man, very peaceful. Couldn't hurt a fly, me. Wouldn't even know where to start."

The jagged thing at Steve's neck pressed into his skin a little harder, Steve tried to lift his chin as far as it could go to get away, but he felt a small sting as the device broke his skin.

"All men lie."

"I'm not lying, I would never lie" Steve lied.

While far from the swashbuckling type, he has never shied away from a fight, especially when it comes to protecting his fellow crewmates. He's only been on the ship a few years, but he has improved his fighting form considerably from the naive nobleman's son he once was.

While he's not going to say it out loud, he probably would attack the thing, if given the opportunity.

The merrow didn't respond, just bored dark pools of black into Steve's soul. Steve silently pleaded back with his own eyes, just wanting to get out of this situation alive.

"Release me, I beg of you. I will cause you no trouble."

"I do not believe you, you will leave this place and call fleets of your men here to hunt me down." The merrow said panic evident in his voice now.

Steve's own panic subsided for a moment and he realized this creature did not seek to kill him for pleasure, but to avoid being killed itself.

Steve took a chance and lifted his hand to touch the pale arm that held the merrow aloft above him in a gesture he hoped conveyed comfort. He did so slowly, as not to startle, and gently so the merrow knew he had no intention to harm. The merrow eyed him wildly and with fear, but it allowed itself to be touched.

It's skin was cool to the touch and droplets fell from its skin as Steve wrapped his hand around its wiry forearm.

Steve tried to reach for his signature charm, the one his father swears he learned from him.

"I promise, I mean you no harm. I have no fleets of men. Half my fellows are so foolish they could not hunt down their own behinds" Steve said.

The merrow stared at him, eyes shifting about, looking him up and down for any hint of deception.

"I will not hurt or attack you, please just remove this device from my neck."

The Merrow seemed to steal it's resolve for a moment. then slowly the pressure was removed from Steve's neck. and the merrow slunk into water.

Steve sat up on the rocky shore. Without the creature's hair blocking out their surroundings, Steve saw he was in some sort of watery cave. Dark grey walls surrounded him as far as he could see, and a vast black lake stretched out in front of him. If only Steve could remember how he got here.

He looked back at the creature and saw the object that had been held to his neck was a jagged, broken shell that hadn't yet been worn smooth by the ocean. The merrow still held it nervously as it bobbed in the water at Steve's feet.

Even with half of it's body submerged, the merrow was nearly eye level with Steve. So either the water is shallow here, or the creature is of substantial size.

"Does this mean I'm free to leave?" Steve asked.

The merrow shook it's head. Black curls shaking out droplets of water with the motion.

"I cannot be sure that you won't return with weapons or more men" it said, "I searched your person while you were asleep, I took the dagger that hung around your middle, and the one on your leg."

How long had Steve been unconscious?

"Did you steal me away from my ship?" he had to ask.

The merrow looked offended at the suggestion.

"Steal you away? You intruded onto my home!" it said as it started rising out of the water. A jet black tail emerging slightly from the grey ocean.

Steve shrunk down and put his hands up in surrender.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know. I have no memory of arriving here."

The merrow was taken aback at that and shrunk down into the water again.

"You don't remember?" it asked

Steve shook his head.

"You washed up onto my shore. No man has ever seen my shore before. Your treasures wash up here when your ships crash in the sea outside, but no man has ever washed up with them before." it said, clearly at unease with the idea.

Steves heart fell. Does this mean his ship crashed? Is he the lone survivor? he doesn't think he can take the thought of being left without the friends he's made on that vessel.

"Did- did anything else wash up with me?" Steve asked.

The merrow shook its head.

"There hasn't been a wreck near here in months."

Steve felt his spirit lift. That could mean his crew mates are alive and well!

But then how did he end up here? Steve tries to remember. His head aches something fierce.

"Why does your face look like that?" The merrow asked.

Rude.

"My head hurts"

The creature cocked its head to one side.

"You creatures are strange and delicate. Have you hurt yourself?"

"Hurt myself? I only just woke up! It's more likely you hurt me, than I hurt myself!"

Steve clutched his head in one hand and gestured at the creature with the other. He feels rather helpless in this situation.

"I did not hurt you! I removed you from the water. You creatures are not supposed to be in there!" The thing pointed towards Steve with its shell, as if illustrating what 'creatures' it was talking about.

"Well then, however I got to be there is how I hurt my head" Steve explained, aggravated by this easily excitable monster he's found himself with.

The creature frowned at him for a moment and then faster than anything it dove under the water. It's tail following behind it in a lithe arc like a sea serpent.

Perhaps it is a sea serpent. A strange shrill sea serpent with very soft skin.

Almost as fast as it left, the thing burst back out of the water.

Steve flinched away from the splash.

"Hold out your hand" the merrow demanded.

Steve held both his hands closer to his body.

"Why?"

The merrow lunged forward and grabbed one of Steve's hands.

Steve yelled, startled, his feet scrambled at the stones beneath him trying to get away from the shockingly strong and clamy hand that held his arm tight, but his leather soles slipped on the wet rock and Steve stayed put.

And then something slimy and oddly coarse fell into his palm.

The merrow shoved Steve's own hand towards his face.

It was seaweed.

"Wh-"

"Eat it."

Steve's eyes shot up to meet the merrow's.

"Raw?!"

"It helps me when my head hurts. It will help you."

Steve grimaced at the yellowish-brown pile in his hand.

"Is it medicinal in some way?"

"It is food."

"Ah."

The merrow starred at him expectingly.

Steve starred right back.

"I'm not going to eat this."

"Then your head will continue to ache."

"I don't think the lack of edible gunk is the cause of my headache, I believe it to be the same thing that's causing my amnesia" Steve said shaking the offending object out of his hand, "I must have hit my head when I was washing up on your shore."

"Like I said; you are strange delicate creatures," the merrow reached out his unoccupied hand towards Steve, "come into the water."

Steve leaned as far away as he could manage.

"So you can drown me?"

The Merrow rolled his eyes. It looked remarkably human in that instance.

"So I can heal you"

He doesn't know if it's delirium or blood loss, but Steve grabbed the pale hand in front of him and slid gently into the water.

The creature wrapped one arm around his waist and pulled him closer to it. Steve felt the scales of it's tale press against his thighs through his trousers as he was held aloft in the freezing water. His feet dangled and he couldn't feel a bottom to the lake, nor to the creatures tail.

The merrow threw the shell that was in it's other hand away somewhere and grabbed a handful of the black water. It brought it's hands up, dripping the water onto Steves head. The cold shock seemed to ease his pain. Steve closed his eyes at the relief.

He felt an even pressure on the top of his head. A tingling sensation washed over him, trickling from the point of pressure down his neck and over his shoulders. It sent Steve's body shivering.

He opened his eyes and was met by two dark eyes staring back at him. The merrow was less than an inch from his face. one of it's hands was firmly planted between his shoulder blades, and the other was atop his head emitting the magical sensation.

"You had a bump on your head."

"Had?"

"I rid you of it."

Steve felt the hand trail down from the top of his head through his hair- still wet from whatever circumstances lead him here- and down his shoulder.

He does not understand why a monster would heal him of a headache, but as he is held steady in its strong arms and feels it's breath against his lips he doesn't think it wise to ask too many questions.

"Thank you." He said.

The merrow let go of him, and Steve pulled himself back up onto the shore.

He heard a wet thunk beside him and turned to see the merrow had joined him on the rock. Its body was facing Steve and it's tail was splayed out in front of it bent at the midpoint as if the thing had knees.

It's tail alone was twice the length of Steve's entire body and it tapered along its length until exploding out into 2 wide tail fins that had the jagged edges of burned parchment.

Suddenly the creature unbent it's tail, laying it across Steve's body and curling the end slightly around his waist. it was surprisingly heavy and the large scales had the texture of smooth river stones against his abdomen.

Steve looked bewildered at the creatures face, who had the same fierce and angry look as when Steve first woke up.

"So you will not run away." it explained.

"how many times do I have to tell you, I will bring no harm to you, even if I escape."

"I cannot take that chance."

"How long will you keep me here then?"

The tail wrapped halfway around Steve's waist constricted slightly, almost causing him lose his balance. The creature beside him leaned in menacingly.

"You will stay here until I can be sure you can be trusted." it said.

"And when will that be, hmm? What could possibly convince you?" Steve asked.

The creature looked down at itself for a moment, seemingly thinking of a solution.

"I- I don't know. I will. I will know it when I know it."

"Oh! You will know it when you know it. Thats fantastic." Steve spat.

"Well you have done nothing to prove your trustworthiness to me thus far" The creature spat back.

"Exactly! I have done nothing! I have not attacked you, I have not tried to escape, I have made no attempts on your life. I have been a model captive! Whereas you, foul creature that you are, have threatened my life, stolen my belongings, and tried to feed me muck from the bottom of the ocean!" Steve had snapped, pushed to far by this infernal creature and it's damp dank lair "And now I find you have no plan for my release. You know, my mother used to tell me tales about you creatures, but she neglected to mention just how stupid you are!"

The creature just looked at him, dumbstruck by his outburst.

It uncurled it's tale from around Steve's waist and moved it back into the water. It slid it's body so it was sitting beside Steve, instead of facing him.

"What is your name?" the merrow asked.

"What?" Steve replied

"What is your name?"

"Is this some kind of trick?"

"No. You say you have been a model captive; I wish to be a model captor. What is your name?" it looked at him with pleading eyes.

Steve sighed and ran a hand over his face. What has his life come to?

"Steve, my name is Steve." He said.

"And you do not eat seaweed, Steve."

"I-" Steve groaned, "I eat seaweed, of course I do, I live on a ship. I just don't eat it raw and fresh from the bottom of a pit is all."

"So how do you eat it." The creature asked.

"You let it dry and cure, you boil it over a flame. Do you know what flame is?" Steve asked.

The creature rolled its eyes again.

"Yes, I know what flame is. If I build you one will you eat?"

Steve was taken aback. The monster is worried about him eating?

"I- yes, I suppose" Steve stammered, "do you also have a pot to boil water in?"

"A bucket washed up last month, will that do?"

"Why yes that will do greatly" Steve said.

The creature quickly disappeared into the water.

Steve sat back on his hands; confused and... oddly touched by the gesture.

Despite the creature's constant suspicion, Steve hadn't even considered just swimming out of here. Mainly due to the fact that he has no idea where he is, if there is land near here, where his ship is, or even how to find the opening to this cave in such dark conditions.

He is tired and befuddled, his wet clothing is sticking to his skin uncomfortably, he is chilled by the air and sore from the hard rock, and now that he thinks about it, he is near starving. So, he truly does appreciate the Merrow's offer to build him a fire.

The merrow reappeared holding a rusty bucket aloft the water's surface. It handed the bucket to Steve, who found dry wood, flint, and a knife at the bottom of it.

Steve smiled.

"Where did you find all this stuff?" he asked

"Treasures wash up here after shipwrecks, I told you that before," The merrow said pulling itself back onto the rock, "now would you like to build the fire yourself, or shall I?"

.....

Steve started the fire, closer to the cave wall than to the edge of the water, and set the bucket, now full of water, carefully in the middle of the flames. It will take awhile before the water boils, but that just gives Steve time to lay his clothes out to dry.

He rid himself of his trousers first, the wet denim was the greatest offender to his skin, and his white linen shirt came after it. He laid them both flat in front of the fire.

He looked around, the creature was still gathering food. He's grateful, he feels oddly modest about being in the nude in front of the merrow.

Steve was crouched down warming his hands in front of the flames when he heard a telltale splash from behind him. He covered himself with his hands and whipped around to see the merrow had returned with 2 handfuls of seaweed and a small fish caught in its mouth.

It looked Steve up and down from its place in the water and then released the fish from its jaws onto the rock.

"Your clothes are gone," it pointed out.

Steve gestured with his chin to where they lay in front of the fire.

"I'm drying them."

"Ah," it said lifting itself by the elbows up onto the shore, "come take this stuff from me, I can't get over to you, it's difficult to move across land in this form."

Steve walked over to the merrow and grabbed the fish and seaweed from it.

"You say in this form; do you have another?" he asked

The merrow eyed him oddly.

"I thought your mother told you of us?" it asked.

"Well, yes, but she also told me the men of your species have the faces of hogs. As you clearly do not look like a hog, I figured she may have gotten some things wrong."

The edges of the merrows mouth twitched upward. It- it's smiling!

"I have a legged form as well. I could get my cap and join you for dinner?" It said.

So, she was right about the caps too. At least Steve hasn't been paranoid about nothing.

"Thats not necessary." Steve said, though he must admit he was curious.

Steve walked back to the fire and dumped the fish and seaweed into the water that had started to form small bubbles. They still had a while to go.

Steve turned back to the merrow, who was sitting on the rock, splayed out, scales and all, like some kind of ancient stone carving. It looked up at Steve, waiting for him to say something. Steve felt the need to cover himself again, the gaze of this creature is just so insistent, but he thought the act would just draw more attention to the area. Instead, he decided to ask something that had been nagging at him.

"Do you have a name?"

The merrow was taken aback for a moment before it answered.

"I was called Edward once."

"Once?"

"I was banished by my people to this cave, I haven't been called anything since then." it said, eyes going sad for a moment before snapping out of it.

"Edward the Banished" Steve mumbled.

"I suppose," Edward said squirming uncomfortably.

Steve hadn't expected him to hear that.

"I left my home to follow a friend onto a pirate ship that I quickly found was made up of novices who had never seen the inside of a ship before."

Edward raised his eyebrows at that.

"I see. 'can't hunt down their own behinds' indeed."

Steve breathed out a small laugh.

"I wasn't lying."

"Hmm..." the creature's mouth flattened into a thin line once more.

It doesn't believe him, not entirely.

No matter! Steve is just glad that it calmed down enough to allow him food and freedom of movement.

When the food was finished cooking Steve brought the bucket over to where Edward was sitting, or laying... where Edward was beached.

It frowned at him.

"You are sharing with me?"

"You caught it for me," Steve said taking a bit of meat from the fish.

It was saltier than he prefers it, but at least it was food. Which reminds him.

"Did I still have my water when I arrived here?" he asks.

"The bladder you had around your belt?"

Steve nodded.

"Yes, I took it along with your knives, I thought it had potential as a weapon," The merrow said, gnawing on seaweed.

"How long was I unconscious?"

The merrow frowned at his food.

"I'm not sure. The sun was just starting to set when I found you by the mouth of the cave, and it was fully dark when you awoke."

That means it could be as little as 5- 10 minutes.

"Do you need me to bring you your water?" Edward asked still gnawing.

"I would like that yes, but where is it that you go to fetch these things."

Edward looked him in the eye, squinting to see any hint of devious intentions on his face. Steve is getting tired of the scrutiny.

"I'm not going to tell you where your knives are, but I will bring you your water." the creature said slithering away into the depths once again.

Steve sat there, bare as the day he was born, and wondered what it would take to get this thing to trust him enough to let him go.

When the merrow came back with his bladder of water Steve tried not to drink it all in one gulp. It was so refreshing, and he was so thirsty, but he doesn't know how long he will have to be here, so he needs to ration.

"I have decided how you will earn my trust." Edward said out of the blue.

Steve nearly spilt his drink in his excitement. He put his water down and wiped his chin.

"What is it?" he asked.

"You will tell me more about your ship, and I will go out in search of it to see if the stories you tell are true." it said tapping its tale against the stone it sat on in no particular rhythm. it looked nervous about this plan.

"You'll find my ship?" Steve asked, amazed at his own luck.

"You will come with me so I know where you are, and I'm not giving you back your weapons, and I will keep tight hold of you, and if I find your ship and it is not the novices you said it was, I will leave you stranded on a sand bar," it said sternly.

"Okay! what do you want to know first?" Steve asked leaning forward, excited to get the process started.

"Tomorrow, you will tell me about your ship tomorrow. Now it is time to sleep" it said and then swam away.

It is a strange and confusing creature.

Still, Steve curled up on his clothes in front of the fire and eagerly laid down his head to rest. He at last sees hope of escape, and he can't wait until tomorrow.

#steddie #merman!eddie #pirate!steve #mermay 2024 #steddie fic #i know im playing fast and loose with the mythology #but in my defense the mythology is pretty sparse #I started writing this in april and it was supposed to be mabey a couple hundred words #now it's over 3000 #steve harrington #eddie munson #really getting this in at the nick of time #tsoec

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irisintheafterglow · 11 months

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Can I request a racer!bakugo showing off his two most precious things after winning a big race, the trophy and his girl pleaseee?

THIS IS SO CUTE I LOVE LOVE LOVE <33 also i can't find it but this is definitely inspired by that one bakugo fic where he's doing a vogue interview about the things he can't leave the house or live without (if anyone knows the link for it please please let me know because it's one of my all-time favorites)

"oh, look! it's bakugo! hey, man!"

"the hell are you doing outside my house?" the interviewer laughs nervously behind the camera, but your boyfriend's scowl doesn't move. it's a wonder that he's still viewed positively in the public eye despite his brash personality. you pinch the bridge of your nose with your fingers and avert your eyes from the second-floor window, sending another prayer begging for him to behave. the interview took place in his own home, for crying out loud. shouldn't he be the most comfortable in his safest space?

the answer is, unfortunately, no.

"i'm uh, here for your '73 questions' interview with vogue. d'you mind if i step inside with you?" he grunts reluctantly in response, swinging the front door open unceremoniously. you pity the poor guy who had to follow your husband around and chuck questions at him like armed grenades; there was always a chance that he would blow up. "so, where were you coming from?"

"grocery store. you want a drink?" good. at least he remembers his manners. "we got water, juice...i ain't giving you alcohol. i don't even know who the hell you are." never mind.

you spend the next 12-something minutes following their one-sided conversation around the house, careful to stay out of sight and silently begging your boyfriend to at least act a little warmer. the only time he does open up, much to the delight of fans, is when he's talking about you.

"'the things most precious to me?' i don't fuckin' know," you can hear him say plainly. you'd resigned to your shared bedroom to finish up some work when you heard the telltale calls of babe, c'mere! babe. babe. babe! from downstairs. with a huff, you set down your pen and make your way into the living room, where you see him holding his latest first-place trophy. it shines under the afternoon sun coming through the backyard windows. the camera pans to you in surprise and you thank your earlier self for wearing something other than pajamas.

"babe, c'mere," he insists and you roll your eyes in exasperation. his arm slips around your waist and you're suddenly hyperaware of the camera that's going to post your image to millions of people. "alright, nerd, you asked me what i wanna show off? they're right here," he boasts proudly and your face starts to heat up. "got my badass lover, my big-ass trophy, and i don't need anything else," he says with unexpected tenderness. "you got that?"

"y-yeah, i got it," the interviewer stutters out. "uh, thank you-"

"the hell do you look so nervous for? i don't fuckin' bite," he says and the man stammers again. "i don't know why i bother doing all this shit," he murmurs in your ear.

"this is why outlets are so scared to interview you, kats," you whisper and he shrugs indifferently. "you scare reporters too easily."

"don't care. i just wanna relax and spend my day off with you. i'm too tired to be dealing with this shit," he grumbles and you laugh under your breath. "baby?"

"hmm?"

"can you do me a big favor?" you narrow your eyes suspiciously while the cameraman fumbles about with his equipment, packing up to leave.

"depends on the favor," you say carefully. "will i need to compromise my morals?" your boyfriend barks out a laugh, and the reporter startles.

"no, no. nothing like that," he reassures you and drops his volume so that only you can hear him. "baby, sweetheart, love of my life?"

"yes, katsuki?"

"please get this man the fuck out of our house."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#bakugo x you #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo x you #katsuki bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x you #bakugo katsuki x reader #mha x you #mha x reader #mha x y/n #bnha x you #bnha x reader #ask iris!

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raitonsfw · 6 months

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Overstimulating dazai but lovingly, continuing to kiss and pepper him in kisses — whilst your preoccupied hand continued to stroke his rigid leaking shaft, it’s been a good few hours. Denying him of entering but when you do, he tries to buck up pathetically :3

🎀anon??

18+ mdni, handjob, slight ‘just the tip’ moment, mentions of princess and baby.

no but like he so would start to beg after about like two minutes of your hand slicking him up with lube. and once it becomes over an hour, he’d cry out your name with a needy whine to it– trying to desperately get you to let him cum or like bury himself inside you... whatever happens first.

not to mention that your cunt nearly wanted to swallow him up with every agonizing stroke, your thighs flush against his on the bed as you hovered over him. you wanted to just sink down and ride him already...

“y/n– baby please, it’s been over an hour…” you heard him grunt against your ear, his breath warm against it as he tried his best to keep his voice steady. instead of answering him, you kissed right behind his ear– peppering small hickeys and feather light presses there with a dainty hum, shushing him quietly and reassuring him you’d take care of him soon enough.

dazai let out another groan, his body quivering against you with his breath hitching in his throat– a telltale sign he was dreadfully close– and you stilled your hand meticulously.

“shitshit– no, fuck!”

in truth, it’s been a few hours and you just wouldn’t let up– your hand carefully sliding up his cock as you calmed him down with a kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth lazily. he was already so fucked out, his eyes glazed over as he looked you over once before a quiet gasp settled in the pit of his lungs when you continued your movements.

his cock felt so hot in your hand– in your palm that had become so sticky and wet with his precum. you looked between your thighs to see how much he was leaking, at how his cock was practically drooling for you and decided to go easy on him.

until…

you took a good look at his face, his eyebrows furrowed and his nose scrunched as you let him fuck up into your palm now– his hair tousled within your grasp and a red blush tinting his cheeks as his eyes nearly rolled back from the sheer pleasure of your grip. his bandages were still intact across his chest, but just barely as they threatened to unravel with how much he moved underneath you, his head thrown back in pure ecstasy with his chest heaving breathy moans.

and then you decided you needed to see him like this more… you needed him to whimper out your name… you needed his thighs to tremble every time you swiped your thumb across his tip of his cock– across the swollen slit that blurted tiny spurts of white everytime he got close– until you proceeded to jerk your hand away or still it with a squeeze around the base of his shaft.

a broken moan flew out of his mouth as you let your entrance ghost over the tip, his hips bucking up quickly to try to bury himself inside you.

“fuck– princess… need you already… you’ve tortured me enough–”

a/n: fueled my insatiable urge for dazai... (i'm so normal about him i swear)

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anistarrose · 1 month

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Just for the record, if a post about sex positivity ever says something like "those people who don't like sex are trying so hard to pretend that they're oppressed," that is a telltale indicator that this particular vein of sex positivity has been infected by aphobia brainrot, please abandon ship and locate a less shitty, more rigorous and principled vein of sex positivity immediately.

People can be oppressed for any deviation, in any "direction," from the "normal" amount and kind of sex. Sex positivity that acknowledges this, and holistically applies core principles of bodily autonomy and freedom from societal norms, is real and it's worth it. I promise. Stop conflating asexuality with sex negativity now, I'm begging you.

#aphobia #acephobia

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angelisverba · 1 year

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bug

in which harry is spider-man, and y/n happens to be at the wrong place, at the wrong time

word count: 4k~

pairing: spiderman!h and y/n

warnings: sexual assault. danger. angst. kissing. grinding. kinda mask kink?

author's note: i know i said i was gonna work on florist... but let's be honest, when have i ever done what i said i was going to do? he just grabbed me by the throat okay? i'm sorry.

Harry… he’s not like everyone else.

He does things he doesn’t always enjoy doing, but he does them because he has to. Because if he doesn’t, then who will? These aren’t things he can hide, and he’s judged for them. Not everyone likes what he does.

But it’s fine. It’s part of the job.

Being Spider-Man isn’t easy.

The moment he was aware of what he could do, Harry accepted his fate of fighting crime, defending those that couldn’t with superhuman abilities which came from the bite of a radioactive spider at the lab he interned for.

He felt so alone, so alienated under the harsh newspaper headlines that labeled him a demon, a criminal, a havoc, that sometimes he wondered what separated him from the bad guys he caught so violently with. It was a struggle to keep in mind his end goal: keep his city safe. To fight for good. To protect.

Some nights, like tonight, he was so numbed by the repetitive nature of his days, the brutal fighting over and over again that seems to never end, that as he stooped on the ledge of a tall building, he wanted so carelessly to damn it all to hell. Why him? Why, why, why?

Harry was tired, having not slept more than eight hours in the past week, and he the strain on his senses is noticeable. Every sound makes his breath catch in anticipation, any movement agitating his hyperfocused irises. He felt like a thread pulled tight. So tight, he was beginning to fray, to snapping. Normally, the suit he wears goes unnoticed. But tonight? He felt it on every inch of his skin. Harry wanted to rip it off.

He’s playing with the fabric, snapping it against his skin, when he hears it.

“No, please. I don’t have any money, please stop touching me, I’m begging you.”

The voice was female. Sweet and innocent, but filled with fear. It didn’t sound right. He swung off in the direction of the yelps before he even knew what he was doing, why he was doing what he was doing.

“Oh, we know that,” a man laughed and there was a rustle telltale of struggle. He was a drunk, Harry knew by the phlegm in his tone, “you’ve got something much better than money.”

He was getting closer by the second, could almost feel his webs sticking to the girl’s assailant. All the fatigue from earlier melted off him as he entered the necessary headspace to fight someone.

“Stop it! Stop! You’re hurting me!” The mystery girl was crying now, panic taking full control of her voice.

“Quit moving, girl!” Harry could tell by the increased scuffling that her attacker was getting frustrated, his movements more aggressive.

He was a blue of red and blue as he swung into the alley where a large bearded man had cornered and was pawing a young girl. He saw flashes of skin and clothing, and didn’t hesitate to kick the man off her.

“She told you to stop,” he chastised. The webs shot out of his wrist at their own accord, wrapping around the man’s ankles and wrists and clamping over his mouth. He was on the floor now, thrashing and trying to regain some sort of balance, but Harry knew he had fully incapacitated him.

The dim light leaking in from the flickering street lamp sprayed on the girl as she crouched in the corner, shivering with wide, wet eyes, and Harry’s heart broke.

“It’s all right now, sweetheart,” he said softly so he wouldn’t scare her anymore than she already was. He knew what the media thought of him.

She flinched at the sound of his voice, so he tried again, “I’m not going to hurt you-“

A loud grunt interrupted him, and a prickly feeling of irritation ran down his spine and jerked him into action. Harry picked the man up by the collar, grumbled out a shut up, motherfucker and knocked him out cold with a punch.

“Sorry about that,” he huffed once the man slumped down silently, “did he hurt you?”

The girl tilted her wobbly chin up, and it felt as though he had fallen from the tallest building in the city and smacked down on the ground back first, all the breath from his body vanished. She shook her head and shivered again, sniffling.

“What’s your name?” Harry asked, whispering. Hoping that the smile hiding underneath his mask was audible.

“Y/n,” she peeped, side-eyeing him like she was testing him, “and yours?”

He chuckled, the sound low in his throat, “you know my name.” It wasn’t a question, but y/ nodded anyway. He thought the name was cute, fitting. He thought she was cute even in her disheveled state. Hair a flurry around her, her eyes rimmed with red and her cheeks pink from the chill of night. “Say it.”

It came out like a prayer from her lips, and he’s sure that he wouldn’t have heard it if it weren’t for his superhuman hearing. A thrill ran though him, his body tensing as if preparing to fight “Spider-man.”

“That’s right,” his nod was a mere chin dip. He cocked his head, crouched low so they were at an even height. “Are you scared of me?”

“No.”

“Good. How ‘bout I take you home? Spider-style.” He sprung up and held out his hand, waiting, hoping, for her to take it.

She was tender in his palm, soft. Wrapping his hand around hers securely, he helped her to her feet and slung a web towards the bags she had dropped in the midst of her fighting. She tried to pull back, but Harry held her still and shook his head.

“This won’t work if we’re not touching, you that right?”

He watched as the realization set in, her eyes widening and her pouty lips parting.

“We’re-?” She gestured loosely at him and the buildings, and he chuffed. Yeah, she was cute.

“Yes. We are. Unless you want to walk?”

“No.”

“Good. Come closer. Closer,” she steps timidly forward until her mary janes are touching the tips of his booted feet. “I’m going to grab you now,” he warned.

“Okay-“ looping an arm around her waist, he clutched her close. She was cold, smaller than him. Y/n was shaking, her heart beating fast. He could tell that she was still running high on adrenaline, and that it would only spike further.

“Where do you live?”

She rattled an address he recognized as one of the semi-safer parts of the city.

“Ready?”

He doesn’t wait for the full yes to leave her mouth, and together they leave the ground. They swung between buildings, Harry reveling in the way she held on to him and squealed in his ear. It felt a lot like sharing, and when she laughed, he felt a little less lonely for the first time since all this happened.

When they land on her fire escape, he tries not to think about how erotic it feels to have her slide down the front of his body, or how her palms glide down his chest. Or how her breath hitches when he involuntary leans forwards.

Instead he holds on tight to her goodbye, letting her sweetly mumbled “night, spidey” lull him to sleep when he gets home.

And that was the first time they met.

****

The next time, it’s burglars.

It’s two guys in ski masks throwing bricks through the glass window of a romance bookstore, and a shrill scream that halts everything to a stop and sends him leaping down and swinging from light poles to get to the shop. The sun isn’t even all the way down yet.

And Harry knows she’s there. His sense doesn’t pick up on people, but he knows because a funny feeling kicks it’s way through his gut and his heart beats a little faster.

These guys have empty backpacks and thick jackets, heavy duty boots. Briefly, it occurs to Harry that out of all the places to rob, this is the most stupid.

But it doesn’t matter how stupid the crime is, because it’s still dangerous, and she’s still in danger.

From his vantage point behind the guys that didn’t even hear him land, he can see that y/n has taken a place behind the register and is on the phone- with the cops most likely. There aren’t any customers inside because- as the signs on the door says- they had just closed. So it’s just her.

Harry waits for them to actually trespass (another crime to keep them behind bars) before actually doing anything. He shoots a web at one of the guys feet and another at his hands quickly, silently. The first, now on the floor, is yelling so that his partner, deeper in the store, gets a warning.

“Fucking get the girl, Sly!” He shouts.

Sly, the other guy in the store, takes one look over his shoulder and does as he was told. He jumps at y/n, and suddenly there’s a gun in his hand.

Suddenly, Harry can’t breathe because it’s pressed against y/n’s temple. She’s in a chokehold at his chest, clawing at a meaty bicep and choking back tears of fear.

“Now, Sly,” he held his hands out in front of him and slowly walked forward. “There’s no need for all this. Let the girl go.”

“Shut up! Shut up! I need to think,” Sly’s eyes were wide beneath his mask. He’s frazzled and huffy and Harry’s so scared he’s going to act irrationally. His senses are peaked, eyes tracking every minuscule movement in search of an opening. Y/n is trying to make eye contact with him (or at least as much as she can through the mask) to gain some kind of reassurance, and it’s crushing him that he can’t look at her.

Sly fucks up, using the gun to scratch his head while thinking, and Harry steps in, webbing his hand to the nearest fixture in a move that knocks the weapon out of his hand. The other however, is still around y/n, so he’s running forward to snatch her away while he’s busy glancing at his hand.

Once she’s safely deposited on the side somewhere- and he doesn’t miss the way her hands follow him as he falls away, as if mourning the loss of his touch- Harry eagerly pummels the guy.

“Fuck you and you’re thinking,” he grits out, clocking him once, twice, and three times before he’s unconscious on the floor.

His chest is heaving, his fist flexing out from its clench. Turning and stepping over the body, he asks, “Are you alright, y/n?”

“You remembered my name,” she said. She stood up, walking towards him as he did the same. They’re chest to chest, and she lifts a hand. Trying to touch him.

But he can’t bear it. Can’t bear her touching him because he knows it’ll break him. So he catches the and holds it mid-air. Tries to appease her by combing her hair back with his free hand, and it works.

“‘Course I did, sweetheart,” he’s taken by the way she leans into his touch, nuzzling his hand like a puppy. In a trance almost, one that’s broken by the distant screech of cops. “I have to go.”

He lets her go, and- “Spider-man, wait!”

But he couldn’t wait, the sirens were just around the corner.

****

The third time it’s by accident, and she doesn’t even know it’s him.

The brush shoulders at a coffee shop, and the distinct smell of her perfume making turn around, like those cartoons with the pie, to watch her walk down the street through the window. Harry is mesmerized by the swing of her hips and is surprised by his Victorian fascination over the swish of her skirt against her ankles. Teasing. She has a tote bag slung on her shoulders, and a book in one hand while the other brings her iced tea to her lips. His eyes lock on her tongue swiping up a droplet of her drink, and his teeth clench. He can’t do this. Not with her. He can’t lust after her. She’s too sweet.

He frowns and shakes his head because she’s reading while walking, and in the city that’s just begging for an accident.

He glances down at the title.

And then he goes to buy it at the bookstore she works at.

****

So it’s the fourth time now. Not even two days after he saw her at the coffee shop. And again, she doesn’t know it’s him.

He understands why she got hired at the pink romance store. He’s walking around like a creep, an isle over as she makes her way through the customers, asking if they need help and recommending her favorites (all of which he memorizes) or whatever might fit their inquiries. Her voice sweeter than all the times he had previously heard it. She has a very interesting way of talking about sex in books, very innocent. And suddenly, Harry realizes she isn’t.

He finds the book she was walking around with the other day, and is flipping through it when she stumbles upon him.

“Oh!” she stutters, skirting to a stop and glancing down at what’s in his hands. He keeps his gaze locked in her face, notices the way her skin flushes when she notices what he’s holding, and how she struggles to maintain eye contact with him as she says, “that one is- it’s uh- really good.”

Just to fuck with her, he tucks the novel under his arm and cocks a hip against the shelf. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yep.” She rolls her lips in her mouth and flicks her eyes over to the shelf next to him, then back to the book under his arm and her face turns red.

Harry attempts to hide his smirk, and fails. “Got any other ones you liked as much as this one?”

Nodding, “A few.”

“Great, I’ll take them.”

She rings him up, bright red, and stutters her way through a conversation about what it’s like to work here, if it’s safe, if the rumor about the robbery was true.

And he’s so, so pleased, when she said, “spider-man took care of me,” with the dreamiest smile dawning on her angelic face.

****

The fifth time he can’t stop thinking about her.

He’s incredibly surprised at her explicit choice of reading material.

Two out of the three novels explore mask kinks.

Who do they both know wears a mask?

Him.

In the novel she was so caught up in she couldn’t even put it down as she was walking down the street, the female heroine is rescued my a masked vigilante whom she later has very kinky sex with. Mask included.

And… well, Harry just can’t but think that it’s such a coincidence that she picks up this book after their interaction. That she’s so consumed by it she can’t leave it alone, not even while she’s walking, and then she blushes at the mere mention of his name. Could it possibly be that… she was thinking of him?

No.

No it couldn’t be.

She was too… too sweet to be reading this absolutely filthy things. Too pretty.

He’s confused, and maybe that’s why he finds himself pacing the roof of the building across from her in the dead of night, staring at her fire escape like a total weirdo. The newspapers would have a field day with what he was doing, and y/n would run for the hills screaming if she knew what he was thinking about.

Flashes of all the indecent things he wanted to do to her ran through his mind like a torture montage. His head between her thighs with only the bottom half of his mask pulled up. Kissing her while she’s completely naked, sitting in his lap while he’s still totally dressed in his suit.

He wanted to-

There was a flicker of light at the window he knew was hers, and everything in him stilled. He watched like a peeping tom as y/n opened her window and crawled onto the fire escape. She was in a flimsy pair of shimmery shorts and a t-shirt that just barely grazed her belly button.

She wasn’t wearing a bra, and from his vantage point he could see the peaks of her nipples poking against the fabric, taunting him.

Harry groaned, low in his throat.

And then she looked at him.

Eyes wide, lips parted, her hands clenching and unclenching against her thighs that were pressed together and-

A breeze swept through in his direction, and carried the scent of arousal.

Her arousal.

She mouthed hi.

And then he was on her fire escape, standing right in front of her. His body was tense, ready to spring into action. Silently, he crouched at the opposite end of her, the space between them small on the rickety fixture.

“Spider-man,” she whispered, as if testing the waters. There was an eagerness in her tone, and Harry had an idea of why that was. He felt it too, hard in his cock.

“Hello, y/n,” he rasped.

“What are you doing here?”

“You know. You know why I’m here.” He tilted his head and beckoned her, “come. Sit.” Harry pointed at his thighs, and sluggishly, y/n got up and straddled him. He could feel her thighs quivering around him, weak from nerves or lack of balance, so he placed his hands on her hips and guided her so their centers aligned, and they were looking right at each other’s face.

“I don’t understand,” her lips were pouty, shiny under the mooonlight. He wanted to bite them until they were swollen.

“Don’t lie,” he pinched her thigh in punishment and then soothed it with a soft caress. “Lift up my mask.”

Her shaking hands crept up his chest, feeling, and he groaned, absently thrusting up into her. She gasped, but her hands continued to move, wrapping delicately around his throat in search of the seam. When she found it, she pulled the mask up, but stopped so it rested at the bridge of his nose. Just as he knew she would.

Chilly fingers skittered on the line of his jaw, over his lips. Her eyes dazed, memorizing, “What’s going on?”

“Will you do as I say, y/n?”

“Yes.”

Their mouths came together in a rush, wet and lacking any order. Like they were picking back up in the middle of a make-out session. She tasted like mint, cool and fresh and dulcet. Her tongue was timid, submissive to his, but equally as curious. His teeth grazed her lips, and she purred. Her core felt molten hot even through his suit, and he knew without even having to touch her that she was so wet for him.

Harry pulled back and rested his forehead against hers, their chests heaving as they greedily suck in air, “take what you want from me. I’ll give it to you. But don’t ask questions. And don’t take off my mask. Understand, sweetheart?”

“Mhm.”

“Good. Now sit,” to emphasize, he pushes her down on his thick cock and rubs her back and forth, “in my lap and grind your sweet little pussy on me until you come.”

Y/n flushes at his vulgarity, and leans back in to kiss him, her hands finding purchase on his shoulders as she begins to move just how he showed her. The weight of her pussy on him engulfed him, and as she dragged up against him, slowing down and pausing at the head of his dick and swiveling so he could feel her clit, stars exploded behind his clenched eyes. Y/n was already whimpering, hot mouthfuls of air puffing into his mouth so it was clear she wasn’t breathing right. He pulls back and dips his head so he’s able to kiss down her throat and to her chest, bringing his mouth to the plushy mouth of her tits.

“That’s it,” he praises against her nipple, “that’s it, sweet girl, you’re almost there.”

Her moans fill the air, increasing and climbing until she shatters and Harry fucks up against her like it’s the real thing. A wet spot darkens the front of her panties, and he’s sticky inside his suit. They’re both spent, heaving as they clutch each other on the fire escape.

Y/n nuzzles against him, “will you come back?”

“I’ll try, sweetheart,” he whispers kissing her forehead and standing with her in his arms so he can place her safely back inside.

He doesn’t follow, doesn’t cross the threshold.

Because if he does, their night won’t end just yet.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles blurbs #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x yn

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hoshifighting · 8 months

Text

Seventeen reaction, when you do something that turns them on while you ride them, making them cum really quickly.

HipHop team | Vocal team | Performance team

Junhui

the sensation of his cock sliding into your wet pussy sent shivers of pleasure down your spine. your hands gripped his shoulders as you rode him.

but it was when you leaned in to suck on the lobe of his ear that junhui's reaction took you by surprise. he let out an embarrassed laugh, a mix of pleasure and surprise dancing in his eyes as your lips teased his sensitive skin.

the unexpected sensation was enough to push junhui over the edge, his release coming faster than he had anticipated. with a strangled groan, he spilled himself inside you, his body trembling with the intensity of his orgasm.

covering his face with his hand, junhui's cheeks flushed crimson with embarrassment. he couldn't believe he had cum so quickly, all because of your teasing.

amused by his reaction, you leaned in to press a soft kiss to his lips, a playful smirk dancing on your own. "looks like i found your weak spot," you teased, your voice filled with satisfaction.

Hoshi

today, the sex was rough, your hips humping hard on him, your clit rubbing against his pelvis in a frenzy of pleasure.

but then, on a whim, you raised your hand and delivered a sharp slap to his cheek. hoshi's reaction was immediate, a loud moan escaping his lips as he arched his back, his desire evident in every trembling muscle of his body.

"again," he pleaded, his voice thick with need as he looked up at you with lust-filled eyes.

you obliged, delivering another slap to his face as you degraded him for enjoying it. with each slap, hoshi's moans grew louder, his arousal pushing him closer to the edge.

and then, with the third slap, hoshi came undone beneath you, his release crashing over him in a wave of ecstasy. he whimpered like a good slut, his body trembling with the intensity of his orgasm.

shocked by the suddenness of his release, you paused, staring down at him in disbelief. "hoshi, are you okay?" you asked, your voice filled with concern.

hoshi nodded, his cheeks hard red with embarrassment. "yeah, i'm fine," he replied, his voice slightly breathless.

Minghao

you couldn't help but let your hands wander to your breasts as you rode him. with delicate fingers, you circled your nipples, sending shivers of pleasure racing down your spine.

minghao watched with rapt attention as you squirmed on top of him, the sensation of your touch on your sensitive nipples driving him wild with desire. his cock throbbed inside you, aching for release as he struggled to maintain his composure.

but when he saw you teasing your nipples, his resolve crumbled. with a strangled groan, he spilled himself inside you, his release coming faster than he had anticipated.

as minghao closed his eyes in an attempt to regain his composure, you couldn't help but notice the telltale signs of his arousal—the redness creeping up his neck and ears.

teasingly, you asked, "do you like this?" before pinching on your nipples, causing minghao to furrow his brow in shame.

"stop," he pleaded between moans, his voice thick with desire and embarrassment.

but you couldn't resist pushing his buttons a little further, circling your nipples again as you teased, "are you sure?"

minghao let out a desperate whimper, his hips bucking involuntarily as he tried to hold back his moans. "please," he begged, his voice barely above a whisper.

with a playful smirk, you relented, ceasing your teasing as you leaned down to press a tender kiss to his lips.

Dino

chan's hips, his cock buried deep inside your dripping pussy, you couldn't resist the urge to tighten your grip around his neck, cutting off his air supply. chan moaned, his eyes rolling back in pleasure as he struggled against your hold.

with each thrust of your hips, chan's arousal grew, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as he neared the edge. and then, with a strangled cry, he came undone beneath you, his release flooding your pussy as he filled you with his cum.

feeling him twitch and throb inside you, you couldn't help but squirm with pleasure. but as chan's breathing steadied, you couldn't resist teasing him.

"poor channie," you cooed, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. "cumming so fast with just a little teasing."

"fuck you," he managed to grit out between heavy breaths.

raising an eyebrow at his response, you grinned mischievously before resuming your movements. you rode him hard, reveling in the sensation of his oversensitivity. chan's hands gripped your hips tightly, his back arching as he tried to keep up with your relentless pace.

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twistedbotanicals · 4 days

Text

Initiation

Dark content warning!

18+, consent for all the wrong reasons, obsession, hentai-style tentacles, Curse!fucking, womb filling, belly inflation, bondage with tentacles, loss of consciousness, loss of virginity

"You wish to join my...organisation."

A question, framed as a statement. Geto Suguru rolled a small chirping Curse, moving around his long-fingers and pale palm like a bag of animated marbles, as if he was bored. His baggy pants hid how his cock swelled and twitched to life within.

This was his favourite part- the initiation- and you were the most eager little virgin to have flown into his web for quite some time. Though clearly a grown woman, you remained untouched...for now.

You knelt, your sweaty palms pressed flat to your thighs, and you thrummed with excitement. With your idol now so close that you could see every crease in his disarming smile, and every thread vein on the inside of his wrist, you felt sick with anxious delight.

You didn't even notice how you leaned forwards, so eager to please that Suguru's aching arousal jerked against his thigh. He maintained his jovial, softly spoken facade, offering you an indulgent smile as you spoke, your voice wavering.

"I-- I would love nothing more, Geto-sama-- it would be an honour, the highest honour--"

"Quite. We could use your Cursed technique, and your enthusiasm." Suguru stood, now, his socked feet soft upon the tatami mats, stepping, feathersoft and serene, down towards you. You could see the long, heavy swelling of his lap, and your mouth ran dry, your lips parting spontaneously. You clamped your thighs together, throbbing.

When he knelt, your chin in his grasp and his breath over your lips, you thought you may faint, and the barest moan left your stretched throat.

But, Suguru looked tortured, sighing in dramatic resignation. "What a shame that you've been amongst the monkeys your whole life...you still cling to them. I can smell them on you. How could I ever know I could trust you?"

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish. Ice water ran down your body, the threat of rejection so close, and you reached up involuntarily, clasping the wrist of the hand that held your chin. Your eyes burned with obsessive fervour, hellfire stoked within.

"Anything, Geto-sama." You strained, your voice thick with sincerity. "I'd do anything for you-- for your organisation-- to prove my loyalty--"

"Anything?" He purred, his strong fingers drifting down your chin to the front of your neck, squeezing the shape of your throat as you swallowed beneath his hand. He cooed in cold comfort.

"You'd do anything, to prove your fealty to me? I'm not an easy man to impress...I could just fuck you, it's true. Truth be told, I wouldn't need your permission, but it does reduce the fun somewhat, knowing you'd spread your cunt open for me so willingly. Deflowering you would be a privilege, I'm sure."

Your vision almost blacked at the edges with promise. Any allusion of appearing respectable fell like broken glass. You felt sorely tempted to dip your fingers between your legs, to pleasure yourself to Suguru's filthy words alone, but you reminded yourself that it was his pleasure you were pledging yourself to.

Suguru saw this; saw your faint, telltale squirms of arousal, as heat pooled in your belly. He hummed, dismissive, looking aside.

"What to do...what to do?"

He clicked his tongue, as if torn by indecision. Still, your throat twitched beneath his hand. Opening your mouth to beg again, you moaned to feel Suguru's thumb dart into your mouth to hold your tongue down.

"I take my pleasure vicariously, little one. I should like to see how far you would demean yourself for me. I should like to see how far your dignity would bend without breaking. Would you like that too, little one?"

You trembled, your knees slipped apart and sloppy, Suguru's hand fixed around your throat with a thumb upon your tongue. You nodded, and nodded again, and again, and again, to Suguru's wan, satisfied huff of mirth.

Up close, his smile was twisted, toxic, and you only wished you knew how right he was, when he surmised that you'd spread yourself for him for just a click of his fingers. You'd let him fuck your virginity away in a heartbeat. You imagined his hand over your mouth as he thrust past your hymen, how he'd catch the shrieks in his hand and devour them like a Curse.

"So you will be fucked, do we agree?"

With no idea to what you consented, you consented instead to your obsession, nodding and nodding again, your splayed fingers clasping at Suguru's robes. He leaned just close enough that he spoke his next words directly against your lips.

"And if you survive, little one...I shall welcome you to my lap with open arms."

Something short-circuited in your brain. Suguru stood, walking away with his back to you, leaving you alone, cold, speechless. You heard a wet, hushed, eldritch rumble to your right, and felt lead drop into your belly.

An enormous, cephalopod Curse, of mottled purple to red ombre, dominated one half of the broad traditional room. Clearly an octopus of eerie origin, its many tentacles tangled and unfurled, its single great, yellow eye rolling and dilating as it fixed on you.

You gasped, scrabbling away, and it grumbled, grasping you by the ankle, and dragging you back across the floor. You shrieked. You heard Suguru chuckle, the palm of his hand lazily pressing across his tenting manhood as the Curse's tentacles gradually wound and twisted around your limbs, ripping your clothes off your body like crepe paper. Every touch left a wet, sticky lubricant on your skin. Suguru toned, low and mild.

"This particular Curse has...desires, as any of us do. I'm sure it would prefer to taste you, over some dirty little monkey, though. And I'd like to watch. You want to give me what I want...don't you?"

You hesitated only briefly, knowing what your answer was. And you couldn't deny (by the time you were bare on the tatami before Suguru, that watching him bite his lip to the image of your naked form being slowly lifted and entwined by shivering, pulsing tentacles) the way it made you throb.

By the time eager little suckers had located your neck, your nipples, and your clit, you arched and mewled with hot little bursts of pleasure. You felt so weightless, lifted and suckled by this hungry beast. By the way it shivered at your taste, leeching off your sex and Cursed energy, the pleasure was not yours alone.

It softened you this way, so that you did not notice how your arms became bound behind your back; so that you did not notice how your legs were folded back and open, into a suspended mating press. A tentacle ran along the length of your sex, its tip teasing against your virgin entrance, as its sucker clasped greedily onto your clit.

The pleasure of its brothers working to suck onto your nipples, tugging and stretching enough to make your toes curl, drew out your moans into pathetic little whimpers. Geto watched as the red and purple limbs wrapping your body writhed harder, and tighter, eager to take their own pleasure, but determined to ensure you were wet and supple enough to take them all.

"G-Geto-sama--" You choked, involuntarily humping with the sucks of the tentacle, making it pulse and shiver, barely resisting sliding inside your tight little hole. Suguru swore under his breath, shuddering, biting one finger between his teeth as the others rested at his temples, his body lying sideways on one elbow.

"Good girl." Suguru hushed, velvet smooth, fucking up against his palm from his spot on the floor. He would have to edge himself carefully, he thought, so he didn't come in his boxers like a boy, at the first moment the tentacle deflowered you. The moment of penetration would be almost too much to bear, even without pleasuring himself in his fist.

"You'll be...full, after this." Suguru mused aloud, hooking his aching cock out to rest against his belly, as your cries of pleasure began to peak. He gripped his fists, the knuckles cracking with the effort of not masturbating himself to completion. "It has quite the volume of semen, from what I have seen it do to the monkey women. You'll ache. Will you take it, for me?"

You nodded, flushed, your eyes half-lidded, breathless in this toxic miasma of pleasure. The speed of the sucks on your clit and nipples increased, and you jerked with the overstimulating pace, not yet at orgasm, but the pleasure harsh enough to make you convulse sharply. The tentacles around you pulsed and shivered, one eager yellow eye and two eager brown eyes fixed on you, watching, waiting.

"O-oohhh f-fuck I'm gonna...gonna come-- gonna come-- o-oooh n-nooooo-- Geto-- haaaah!"

Your orgasm pounded through your bound form with electric intensity. You jerked, convulsing, and the tentacle that sucked on your clit and teased your hymen grew more eager still, pre-cum soaking your entrance to prepare you for its slick penetration.

As you convulsed, humping the limb with guttural groans, you heard Suguru curse again, little jerking spills of pre-cum wetting the hair on his barely exposed belly. He lay back, one arm over his eyes, groaning.

Suguru freed his heated gaze in time to see the tentacle stroke one final time against your entrance, as if licking, tenderising you...before pressing forwards with its tapered tip, thickening so fast as it punched past your virginity to seat itself fully in your pussy.

You arched, screaming against the sudden intrusion. An opportunistic tentacle, bulbous at the tip and thicker than the girthiest cocks you had ever seen in porn, pressed into your open mouth, silencing you into thick gags and swallows.

After a few moments of your pussy clenching, your mouth clenching, your arms pulling involuntarily against the binding limbs...you stilled, supple and used and submissive. With another frisson of delight, the tentacles that were inside you begin to move, thrusting as an eldritch groan of bliss rumbled from the Curse.

You felt every single thrust against your belly, and you twitched, your moans barely audible around the member that pleasured itself with your mouth. A tentacle stretched up, winding itself around your neck to force its extension, and you gagged to feel the arousal fuck deeper. It shivered again, barely able to restrain itself.

Geto had almost ejaculated untouched, to see the tentacle punch through your virginity like it was tissue paper. The cool façade he usually maintained faltered, also paper thin. A drip of sweat crept down his neck as he cursed, releasing his clothes enough to bare his chest, his heavy twitching cock, and his belly tensing with the thrill of edging himself.

"Not innocent anymore, little one...shit...does it feel good? Giving yourself over to my monsters?" The Curse groaned, heavy and gravelly, as if answering for you. Geto swore again as it lined up thinner tendrils to coil around your breasts and nipples, teasing, stretching and flicking them.

You jerked with the sinful pleasure of being used, feeling the tentacles fuck, and fuck, and fuck, up your pussy and down your throat. The yellow eye watched you from below, changing your angle occasionally, as if examining its artwork from all perspectives, relishing in the way you squealed when new limbs began to probe your asshole. A thin one dipped inside, as if testing, before coming out again, making way for a more generous counterpart.

You felt it coat you with its sticky pre-cum, first teasing your asshole with one bulbous cock, before carefully easing the head in. It shuddered at the way your pussy involuntarily clenched and milked it in response, drips of pre-cum beginning to slip out of you to the floor.

Another tentacle, thinner, with breeding intent, had already slid into your cunt alongside its thicker brother, and waited at your cervix for you to climax again, so it could steal its chance.

Suguru could not restrain himself any longer, to watch you be fucked raw in suspension, seeing the way your eyes grew unfocused and your body jerked and trembled. He hissed to feel his fist encircle his cock, stroking slowly, in time with the tentacles that thrust in tandem within you.

"Got to come again, little one. It can't take its satisfaction until you do. Do you want the suckers back?"

You only moaned in response, wet and slurping around the tentacle that used your mouth. Suguru flicked one hand at the Curse, an order, and a sucker promptly resited itself on your clit, to suck you to orgasm as you needed.

You moan was dirtier than any Suguru had ever heard and he had to let go of his cock again with a jolt, lest he spill all over the floor. He swore, biting the back of his fist, feeling his peak almost creep over...before ebbing away again, leaving him panting, gasping.

Suguru fucked up against the air as he felt the final climax approaching, sure you were not ready for the way the Curse would leave you heavy with its seed.

It was as the three limbs fucking within you all sped up, in one final push towards completion, that you fell into another orgasm. The ferocity with which the suckers licked at your clit and nipples had you roaring with pleasure around the limb in your mouth, and as you convulsed, you felt the curious sensation of something thinner and more insistent weedle through your cervix to press its tip into your womb.

Mid-orgasm, you felt yourself go lightheaded with the bizarre, vasovagal physiological response to your cervix being invaded. The world blackened at the edges, and you loosened in the limbs, only semi-conscious. The Curse took its chance...and began to fill you.

The tentacles within you pulsed, alternating and peristaltic, as cum began to pulse through, into you. Lost in a black haze of pleasure, your belly grew warm, then hot, and ached, as the little tentacle within your womb spurted loads of warm cum into it. You jerked, swallowing, and clenching, to feel the same happen in your throat and asshole.

The tentacles continued to gently suckle on your breasts and clit, as if soothing you for what it was doing to you. Excess sticky white cum splashed to the floor, running down your chin, your thighs, little squirts oozing out of the suckers on your nipples and clit.

Your pathetic little mewls, and the way your lower belly stretched outwards, bulging with the cum that filled you, pushed Geto over the edge. With two final fucks into his pre-cum wetted fist, he came with hushed curses, praising you with liquid mercury.

"--good girl-- shhhh...take it for me, that's it, filthy girl...take it...shhhit, take it..."

You came back online slowly, aching, your belly cramping as if on your period. The Curse lowered you to the floor with surprising tenderness. As it withdrew its tentacles from your prone, whimpering body, one great limb softly stroked your bloated belly. The Curse groaned, retreating and satisfied, but not before one tentacle stretched out to offer you an affectionate little boop on the nose.

As you lay on the tatami, bare, shivering, and impossibly full of cum, Geto swallowed down the Octopus Curse, his hand and belly still sticky with his own seed. He sighed as though he had just performed some wearing duty, and cast you a look of languid satisfaction.

"...you are welcome here, little one."

Geto smirked. The last thing he heard from your babbling mouth, as his staff dragged you from the room towards the baths, was you thanking him weakly, with a cum-filled mouth, for his acceptance.

Another cult member bowed before Geto, his forehead not even rising from the floor as he spoke.

"Are--are you ready for the next one, Geto-sama?"

Suguru smiled, sharkish, perusing a mental Rolladex for a Curse of choice.

"Yes." Geto sighed, stretching, tucking his cock away and wiping his hands on the back of the flinching cult members' robes. "Send her in."

286 notes · View notes

anonymouslosersworld · 8 months

Text

♡ Succubus♡

Prompt; Mc/reader armed with the teaching Solomon decided to mess around with magical creations and like Icarus flew too close to the sun before falling... in their case fell victim to horniness.

Fandom: Obey me shall me date

Characters: Beel, Belphie, and Asmodeus.

Genre: Smut (M)

Contains: dubcon, unprotected sex, dom reader, sex toys, voyeurism??, and corruption kink.

Credit goes to @asmology. They have wonderful blog and written pieces. I was so in love with their charmed series and just wanted to try my hand at writing it myself. Please don't hesitate and check out their blogs.

[Obey me masterlist]

Prologue; After you had successfully enrolled in the sorcerers' academy and become Solomon's one and only apprentice after a couple of months. He had encouraged you to explore magical items and such. Due to many lonely and hot nights, you settled on magical items. Using your knowledge you created a life-like magical dildo/vibrator of your love interest. Unknowingly to you {or maybe knowingly you did but wouldn't admit it}it was also charmed with your love interest feeling whatever you did to it.

Beelzebub

The water trickled down Beelzebub's achy body. He had just finished a late training session for Fangol. He had been feeling this empty pit in his chest since you had gone to the human world, and nothing seemed to fill it. It practically hurt him to be so far from you, even though he knew you would be back eventually. It didn't stop him from missing you.

The lathered loofa that he was using reminded him of you since you bought it on one of his many shopping trips with you in devildom. Just the thought of you brought some warmth to his chest.

Beel groaned as he felt the telltale sign of your touch on his body. Beel muttered your name as your hands roamed around his body. He found it comforting. He felt the warmth of your hands all over his body, stopping for a short while at his tits. Your hands moved to pat his stomach; he was sure you could tell that he lost a little weight while you were gone. He felt the wet kisses you seemed to leave around his body,mostly his face.

"M-mc?" he whines as he closes his eyes. If he really concentrated, he could pretend you were here. Your hands were so small compared to his. You could barely cup his tit or even fit it into your mouth. He can feel when you move to his cock, where you struggle to take him into your mouth. He smiles as you give him kitten licks all over his cock.

"Please more.'' he softly begged you as the water kept running down his body. it was almost like you heard him, and you finally took him into your mouth. His breath hitched as he felt your warm and wet saliva hit his cock. His cheeks go red as he realized you just spat on his cock. No matter how many times you took him, you struggled to take him. Your tongue danced around his tip and played with veins that ran across his cock.

"I'm cumming!~" Beel groaned as he felt his balls being handled with care. Beel panted, finally managing to catch his breath. His body felt relaxed, sore, and tired, but he finally felt at ease.

" I miss you, come home soon" he whispered into the wind, hoping you would hear him.

Belphie

Belphie's face was hot and flushed. If anyone had paid attention to the 7th born, they would have noticed he was awake and trying to keep from making any sounds. The pleasure finally was getting to him. His mind was in a daze, he felt dizzy and he could barely hold a thought in.

"N-no, please w-aah~" Belphie whimpered quietly as another orgasm was taken from him. His ass felt hot with all the cum; he was surprised he hadn't leaked all over his chair.

Belphie panted heavily as the thing wrapped around him finally stopped for a bit. He was growing weary, and he was tired. He just wanted to go to bed, but he couldn't ignore it anymore.

"Sss-sshiiit~'' he whined as he felt its walls contract around his cock. His cock twitched as you began to move again. He was so sensitive already; he didn't know how much more he could take.

"f-fuck!!" Belphie moaned as you moved. Getting fucked in class was one thing, but being fucked by nothing in class was another.

"Let me sleep," Belphie begged mentally, "it's too much now."

Belphie's balls emptied out whatever last cum it had into whatever little trap you made.

Asmodeus

"a-aah~" Asmodeus relished the feeling of his cock in something. He knew only two people were capable of doing this, and he was perfectly happy to let them use him as much as they wanted.

He could recognize that warm and sloppy wet hole-blowing technique anywhere, and it turned him on more than anything. You missed him so much. Your tongue swirled around his tip.

"Yes!!~ deeper please." He moaned with no shame in his dressing room. He had unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it off to play with his chest. The clothes he was trying on were long forgotten.

"s-so dirty,~" Asmodeus whimpered as he felt something at his entrance. He bites into his hand as he feels your fingers inside him, warming him up to fuck his ass. "You must really miss me."

"w-wait! too soon!" Asmodeus whined as you worked his ass and sloppily sucked his cock. it was too soon for him to cum.

"p-please w-ahh~!" Asmodeus's back arched as you finally hit his favorite spot. You didn't waiver as you fucked your way into Asmodeus's hole. Asmodeus tried to withhold his orgasm but you kept screwing him like he was really there with you. You fucked him like -

"n-no faiir~" he exclaimed as he came.

Requests are open! Feel free to request!

My works are only posted here! If you see any of my work anywhere else please report it.

Do not edit, translate, or repost my work without my consent.

#sub obey me #obey me smut #obey me beezlebub #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel smut #obey me beel x reader #obey me beel #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo x reader #obey me Asmodeus smut #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me belphagor x reader

583 notes · View notes

the-boy-meets-evil · 9 months

Text

a new home for the holidays | ljh

(where you can't go home for the holidays and end up having a much better christmas than you expect.)

pairing: jihoon (woozi) x afab!reader genre: acquaintances to lovers, christmas!au | fluff & smut rating: explicit word count: 10.5k warnings: lots of mentions of christmas (including decorating, family, cooking, etc.), if the holidays are too much please skip this, mentions of family issues, reader can't go home for the holidays (and they actually like christmas), no gendered pronouns used for reader, mentions of past death (family member woozi mentions), woozi owns the house where reader rents a room but there are no power dynamics, explicit and implied smut, woozi is kinda grumpy, reader is super bummed about christmas, woozi ends up being a secret softie smut warnings: lots of kissing, thigh riding, nipple play, marking if you squint, slight begging, two ass slaps, oral (reader rec.), fingering (reader receiving), overstimulation, squirting, briefest handjob, unprotected sex (don't do this), implied aftercare, implied morning after sex

author's note: this is for @k-vanity's 25 tips for surviving the holidays and the final prompt is christmas. i don't really have anything to say for myself. this is not what i'm supposed to be writing and it kinda just happened. merry christmas (if you celebrate) and happy holidays. i've already had christmas dinner, so if you see any mistakes, blame it on the drinks.

The holidays are your favorite time of year. Always have been. Nothing has really changed over the years. You moved away for work and fell in love with a new city. Now you just get to have twice the holiday cheer. You decorate your space in the house you live in with friends (and the grumpy house owner who’s resisted most of your attempts to be friends). Then, you go back to visit family when it gets closer to Christmas. It’s been a really great system. You’re just as excited this year as every other year.

Until your plans change. It’s only the day before you’re supposed to fly back home when your dad calls to let you know that he and your mom are sick. They know that you have a lot of post-Christmas plans (New Years, school work, and even a trip) and they don’t want to risk getting you sick as well. They insist that you can still come back, if you want, but warn you that they’ll have to keep their distance. You spend a lot of time thinking about it (read: talk it over exhaustively with your closest friends) before deciding that you’re just going to stay put for the holidays. You can plan another time to catch up with your family and have a time-shifted Christmas. After all, you think of the holidays as more of a feeling than a specific date on the calendar. You can find something to keep you busy for the 25th.

A couple of your friends invite you to come and spend Christmas Eve or Christmas Day with them, but you decline. You appreciate the sentiment, and really consider it in at least one case, but it just doesn’t feel right. Your family has so many traditions that it feels weird to consider dropping in on someone else’s. Besides, you won’t be alone in the house. (Even if Jihoon, who owns the house and rents out rooms, isn't always the friendliest. And doesn’t seem to enjoy Christmas at all.)

It’s four days before Christmas. You’re sitting in the living room aimlessly scrolling through your phone while you wait for Jun and Minghao to come downstairs. The three of you were all supposed to be heading to the airport together today, but now you’re just going to be driving them so they don’t have to pay for a ride. A sound makes you look up before you realize it’s not nearly enough noise for Jun, who can’t seem to go anywhere without being too loud. Instead, Jihoon only nods at you before he settles into an armchair on the other side of the room with a book. After a few minutes, you hear the telltale giggles of one of your best friends as he rushes down the stairs. Jun is through the door first, followed by an exasperated Minghao. Nevertheless, you see the signs he’s trying to fight his smile. You stand to meet them at the doorway.

“Bestie,” Jun signsongs when he reaches you. Throws his arms around you for good measure. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

“Jun, for the last time, we were supposed to leave for the airport 45 minutes ago,” Minghao sighs. “There wouldn’t be time to pack.”

“Details, we’ve got plenty of time,” Jun waves off.

“And last minute plane tickets are insane,” Minghao adds.

“Less insane with a travel credit,” Jun supplies, undeterred.

“Jun, please, we really need to leave,” Minghao begs.

“Are you not going home?” Jihoon asks. He’s so quiet when he moves that you didn’t even hear him stand up to join your group.

“Oh, no, I guess I forgot to let you know,” you start. You didn’t. Jihoon scares you a little. He’s nice enough and he’s great as a landlord, if you can even call him that, but you’re not really friends.

“You don’t have to let me know,” he huffs out.

“I decided not to go home this year. Both my parents are sick and I don’t want to catch it too, so we’re timeshifting the holidays,” you say.

“So it’s just you two in the house for Christmas,” Jun says brightly as he throws an arm around Jihoon. “Take good care of my bestie, okay?”

“It’s fine, Jihoon, I’m not expecting you to do anything with me,” you say before he can even open his mouth.

“But…” Jun starts and you turn him around before he can finish.

“Come on, before we give Hao an aneurysm. Do you need help getting your stuff outside?” you ask.

“Bless you,” Minghao mutters as you’re wrangling your best friend out of the house.

Once you’re back at the house, all you want to do is lay in your bed. It was a lot of work to pretend everything was fine while taking Jun and Minghao to the airport. Traffic was bad getting back, so you didn’t really have it in you to break down. Now that you’re home and in your room, the tears don’t come. It’s not who you are. It sucks that you’re not going home for the holidays, but it’s still the holidays and you can still make the most of it. Maybe. Somehow.

Somewhere in the house, you hear a door close loudly. Probably just Jihoon since everyone else has left. For a moment, you consider going downstairs to see what he’s up to. But, again, you’re not really friends. Moving seems like too much effort, anyway. You flop back onto your bed and get comfortable. Wait until you’re hungry to actually leave your room to find something to eat. You’re probably going to need more groceries before Christmas, because you still want to make some of your favorites, but you probably have enough for something to eat tonight. When you walk into the kitchen, you smell something delicious. There’s a big pot on the stove with the burner on beneath it.

You’re just about to lift the lid when Jihoon comes back into the kitchen. “Leave it.”

“Oh, sorry!” you gasp, surprised by his appearance and unsure of the tone.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says. “I just don’t wanna fuck it up.”

“That’s a big pot of soup,” you say.

“Yeah, I figured you might be hungry,” he says, like it’s the most logical thing in the world.

“Oh!” you say.

“I mean, I don’t know if you like Chicken Ramen soup, it’s a little spicy, but I like it around this time of year,” Jihoon says. He looks a bit awkward and unsure.

“That sounds really nice, actually,” you admit. “You don’t mind sharing?”

“No, I wanted to share,” he assures you. “It’ll be done soon.”

With a nod, you go to sit down at the kitchen table. The silence isn’t totally comfortable, but it’s not uncomfortable either. Not exactly. This is already shaping up to be the most time you’ve spent alone with him, if you end up eating together. It makes you wonder more about him. He seems really focused as he cleans up around the kitchen. His black hair is the longest you can remember seeing it, falling around his face as he leans over. It’s almost soft to watch him brush it out of his face.

As you’re sitting there waiting for the soup to finish, you realize that you don’t know much about him at all. Even though you’ve lived in this house almost two years, he’s still very much a mystery. You know that the house has been in the family for a long time and he was the only one who was willing to take the project of managing it on. Or that’s what you think he said once. Someone, maybe a cousin or friend or something, thought he was a bit crazy for renting rooms out like this. But, it’s a massive house and he’s single. (There are 6 bedrooms, all with attached bathrooms, multiple living rooms, and an office that he uses for himself. The house is paid off so the rent goes towards things like property taxes, maintenance plans, and anything else that comes up.) You know he also produces music, though you’ve never heard any of it. Not that anyone has, he’s very private and doesn’t even share what name he produces under.

It’s clear when he brings each of you a bowl of soup that he’s expecting the food to do the talking for him. It’s cute and also puzzling at the same time. How does someone who wants to speak through something like making soup have a successful career as a producer? You shake the thought away and make conversation yourself. Most of what you get are short answers, but it’s something. And you definitely learn more about him. He deflects a little when you ask about his family, prefers to turn it around so you can talk about yours. Which you don’t really mind, even if it’s a little sad to think you won’t get to see them.

“Hey, I was thinking I might go and see about getting more decorations for the house tomorrow. Is that okay?” you ask when you’re finished eating.

“You really like Christmas, don’t you?”

It’s not really an answer, which makes you look up to find something of a smile on his face. Maybe a little teasing behind the smile. “Yeah, I just really like the joy of it all.”

“I don’t mind. There also might be some stuff in the attic that I can pull out,” he says as he stands to clear the dishes.

“That would be better than braving the crazies,” you say.

“Come on, I’ll show you how to get up there,” he says. Doesn’t even check if you’re following him before leaving the kitchen.

You scramble to your feet to catch up to him. Truthfully, you didn’t even know the house had an attic. It isn’t surprising. It’s an old house, but still. This is just another small thing that you feel like helps you better unwrap the mystery of Lee Jihoon. Upstairs, he opens the closet and pulls out a hook to unlatch a door in the ceiling just outside of Minghao’s room. Huh. You’ve never even noticed it, not that you’re outside this room often. To your further surprise, Jihoon flicks on a switch and then climbs up the ladder into the attic. Once again, you follow close behind him.

There are a lot of boxes in the attic, mostly labeled with names or rooms or both. You figure they probably belong to relatives. Or maybe past renters. In any case, it seems best to not bother asking. Especially since he’s making a beeline to one corner. You fight the urge to laugh. So much for thinking there were decorations up here. By the way he walks, you can tell he knows exactly where they are. It’s worth it, though, because there are about a dozen boxes with garlands, ornaments, wreaths, and other various knickknacks. Jihoon asks which of the boxes you might want and sighs when you say you want to bring them all down. Doesn’t argue, though, just tells you how to help him get them down. Even helps you get some of them downstairs.

“Guess we might need a tree,” he sighs when you get the last box out of the attic.

“Oh, I can find a fake one at the store or something. It’s no big deal,” you mumble out.

“I have to take care of something in the morning, then we can go pick one out,” he says without looking at you.

“Really?” It comes out nearly as a squeak.

He rolls his eyes, which might discourage you if you hadn’t also caught the faintest smile. “Yeah, we might as well with all this stuff out of the attic.”

You distinctly hear him mumbling something about the damn Christmas spirit as he walks away, leaving you to happily sort through boxes. Hope can be dangerous, especially around the holidays when your plans are interrupted. But, you can’t help it. You feel a little spark of hope.

The house is quiet when you wake up. It’s hard to tell if Jihoon is around or not until you peek out into where you all park to see that his truck is missing. When you first met him, the truck surprised you. It’s not really flashy, or even new, for that matter, just an old, vintage Chevy that’s in completely perfect condition. It’s probably older than either of you, but you’d never know by how it looks. The more you get to know this man, the more the truck makes sense.

With the house empty, you can listen to music as loud as you want. You connect your phone to the speaker and Christmas music carries throughout the house in moments. Coffee in hand, you set out to get some of the decorations up while it’s just you. But, even with the music and the decorations, you’re feeling a little empty again. It’s not the same to be doing this all by yourself. You know, at least on some level, that you’re not totally alone. There’s also Jihoon and he isn’t going anywhere for the holidays. But, he obviously doesn’t like Christmas much if the lack of decorations or tree are anything to go by. Maybe you’re just a burden on him too.

Your phone dings and you look around for a minute before you find it on the table. The surprise of who’s texting you makes you unlock your phone right away.

Jihoon: Finished early and actually found a tree that works when I was driving home Jihoon: I hope that’s okay. I didn’t want it to be gone

There’s no explanation for the tears you’re blinking away. It’s not about picking out the tree. That part of Christmas hasn’t ever been an important part to you. Ever since you moved away, your parents got one before you flew in anyway. No, it’s more to do with the little you know about Jihoon and that truck. It’s almost like his child. He’s so careful about it. Somehow, Jun has managed to at least get to the point of being friends with him. Then again, Jun can wear anyone down. But, through Jun, you know how particular Jihoon can be about his truck. You distinctly remember Jun saying he wasn’t allowed to eat or drink in it (not that unusual) and that he had to brush off his shoes before getting in to avoid the dirt (a lot more unusual, especially someplace it snows). It probably doesn’t mean anything. It’s probably just your emotions about the change of holiday plans taking over. But, you’re overwhelmed that he’d pick up a tree and use his own truck.

You: oh, yeah! thanks! You: let me know you’re here and i’ll come help

The tree that Jihoon shows up with is completely perfect. Even still wrapped, you can tell that it’s going to be full. And that you’re going to have to work a little harder to get the branches to fall by Christmas. Not only did Jihoon use his truck to bring a tree back, he also has several bags of stuff, including a tree stand. It makes you wonder what he actually had to do this morning. It isn’t until you have to bring the tree in that you wonder how the hell you’re going to lift it into the house. That is, until Jihoon reaches through the branches and lifts up the tree. You try not to watch the way his muscles tense under his shirt. Fail miserably, actually, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He calls for you from the living room to help him fasten the tree into place. It’s a good thing, too, because you don’t really need to be dwelling on whether the guy who’s basically your landlord is hot or not.

Once the tree is up, he makes an excuse about needing to get some work done and disappears off to his studio. It had actually been really fun, even if it was short, to have Jihoon around and sharing in the space. It feels a little empty again. But, there’s still plenty of decorating to do. So you get to work. You’re hoping that somewhere in the process of decorating, it’ll start to feel a little more like Christmas. You consider calling Jun to answer his texts. Unfortunately, he knows your tones of voice better than you do. There’s no way you’ll be able to hide being sad. You can just fire off a couple quick texts to tell him about the tree and about how you’re decorating now.

An hour later, you’re kind of ready to give up. It’s just not going to feel like Christmas. Not when the joy and the sense of togetherness are missing. The second that you hear footsteps on the stairs, you wipe your eyes. The last thing you want is for Jihoon to see you crying. If he can tell, he doesn’t comment. Doesn’t say anything, actually. Just puts two bags down and starts sorting through ornaments, both old and clearly new. It’s the smallest gesture, yet you don’t feel so alone anymore.

“Do you want to listen to some music?” he finally asks to break the silence.

“Yeah, I can get a playlist,” you answer and reach for your phone.

“I have some, too. I’m not heartless,” he says with a chuckle.

“I never said…” you start, only to stop when he rests a hand on your arm.

“I was joking,” he says.

You’re not trying to be nosy, but you see him scroll through a few playlists while he’s looking for holiday music. “What were those?”

Jihoon looks up at you, confused, before looking back down at his phone. “Oh, nothing. Just stuff I’m working on.”

“I’d love to hear that,” you admit.

“What? The stuff that’s not done?” he asks, abandoning his search for a playlist.

“Well, yeah, but I meant the stuff you have finished,” you say.

“Oh, um, I don’t usually share that. I like to keep that separate,” he says awkwardly.

“It’s fine, I totally get it,” you say, brushing off any disappointment, and return to your focus on sorting through ornaments.

“Fuck it, sure. I’ll let you listen to some,” he says. Your head whips up with a beaming smile. And you have no way of knowing that it makes his heart stutter.

“Really?” you ask.

“Yeah, but if you hate them, don’t tell me,” he warns.

You hold out your pinky as a promise. Jihoon grumbles under his breath for a second before linking his pinky through yours as a promise. He scrolls back to one of the earlier playlists, keeps the name hidden from you, and hits play. The first song immediately puts you in a good mood. It’s upbeat and happy, full of good life advice. Just the type of thing you need right now. One song flows into the next and you’re smiling without even realizing it, singing along to songs that you can’t believe you know. Can’t believe this quiet man has so much talent. Can’t believe he works on such popular songs and still lives a simple life in a shared house with roommates that are way too loud.

It’s him that starts the conversation up again, seemingly unable to stop himself from asking for your thoughts. It’s the most animated you’ve ever seen him, asking for your opinions and talking about his process. The more you listen, the more he seems to have to say. At times, you’re not even sure that you hear what he’s saying. This animated side to him has you so entranced that you think you’d do anything to keep him speaking. Keep him smiling like this.

The house feels a lot warmer now that you’re decorating together and talking about anything under the sun. Talking about music seems to have opened him up to talking about a lot of things. About his interests, books he’s reading, games he likes to play. You find there are actually a lot of those things that you have in common. You have similar taste in books and in games, even offer to lend some books to him. He makes you promise that it’ll be an even trade so that he feels better about it.

When dinner time comes around, he suggests ordering delivery. You agree, but only on the condition that you can figure out a Christmas menu over dinner. That signature sigh and eye roll make another appearance, like he’s so exasperated by the process. It’s less effective now that you’re starting to know him better. A part of you thinks that it might even be an action reserved for people he cares about, even if that care is only small. But, you’re starting to learn how to play the game too. You pout at him and make your eyes as big as you can when you ask the second time. Before you can ask the third time, he relents and agrees.

With your favorite food spread out in front of you, from a place he’s somehow never tried, you start to make a list of your favorite Christmas dishes. Thankfully, some of your favorite things seem to line up and otherwise, Jihoon doesn’t really mind what you have. Once, he reminds you that there are only two of you, so you don’t need to go overboard. You’re quick to point out that leftovers are great and that your housemates come back shortly after Christmas. Again, he finds himself giving in to what you want.

You’re watching him clean up the boxes and considering your next question. “Can I ask you something?”

“You just did,” he points out, back still to you.

It’s your turn to roll your eyes. “You’re such a dick.”

“Now is that any way to speak to your landlord?” he teases, finally turning around.

“That’s actually what I wanted to ask you,” you say.

“If you can call me a dick?” he wonders and you laugh.

“No,” you manage. “No. I wanted to know…well, you’re obviously successful. Why live in a house with so many loud housemates?”

Jihoon looks thoughtful for a moment, turns around to continue throwing things out. You think he’s not going to answer when he comes to sit down across from you again. “I like the chaos. It's good for me. I don’t just mean because it inspires me. It does. But, it’s also good. I get a little in my head, if you haven’t noticed. I don’t always have the easiest time getting out. There’s always someone around here.”

“You secretly like us,” you coo because you’re not sure what else to say.

“I regret telling you,” he says and huffs.

“I’m kidding, Ji. I really like living here, even if you scared me at first. It feels like a weird, dysfunctional family,” you say.

“Do I still?” he asks, oddly serious.

“What? Scare me?”

“Yeah.”

“No, you don’t. I think you’re actually a lot softer than you want us to realize,” you say and watch his face. “Don’t worry, Ji, your secret’s safe with me.”

“Is that nickname going to stick?” he wonders.

“That depends. Do you like it?”

“Would it matter if I said no?”

“Of course it would.”

He looks away and clears his throat. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was a little shy or embarrassed. “I do like it.”

“I’ll be sure to use it a lot, then,” you say. More tease, really. You’re curious to see how he reacts and you’re not disappointed. There’s a slight blush to his cheeks. If you could see his ears through his hair, you think those would be tinged red as well.

It takes him a minute to regain his composure. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re exhausting?”

“How do you think I manage to keep up with Jun?” you fire back.

“He adores you, you know,” Jihoon says and it’s the softest you’ve seen him while talking about another person.

“I’m glad because I adore him, too,” you say without even thinking about it. “Although, sometimes he acts like the brother I definitely never wanted.”

Jihoon actually laughs at that, a real laugh, and the sound is so pretty. “The brother you never wanted. How does he feel about that?”

“Fine because I also tell him that sometimes he’s the brother I did want. So it evens out,” you reason.

“You see him like family?” he asks, an unplaceable emotion on his face.

“Yeah,” you answer immediately.

“Why didn’t you take his offer to go home with him for the holidays?”

That’s not the question you’re expecting. It makes you frown a little. You had forgotten, just for a moment, that this year was different. “Oh, well, I don’t know. Jun is family to me and I do love him like he’s my brother. But, um, I guess it’s that he’s family to me. Not his family. I like them and they’re great, but it would feel like intruding to have accepted. Like I was someone they had to make feel welcome, a guest. Not someone who was actually part of everything.”

“I get that,” he says.

“Why do you stay here on Christmas?” you wonder, venturing further into knowing him.

His shoulders slump a little bit, like he’s not really happy with how this turned either. “I don’t really talk to a lot of my family anymore.”

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t…” you start and he waves you off.

“No, no, it’s fine. You asked me about being successful and still living here with housemates. I told you most of the story, but not all of it,” he admits.

Without thinking about it, you get up from your chair to sit beside him. Put your hand on his arm to let him know that he doesn’t have to share this part of himself if he doesn’t want to or if he’s not ready. But, he insists he wants to share it with you now that you’ve also heard some of his music. His grandfather owned his house and got it from his grandfather before him. Jihoon had always been close to his grandparents. He was the only grandkid to come around and help them with things. His grandmother would try to teach him how to cook, even though he was never very good. She also taught him all sorts of games, that’s where he got a lot of that from. His grandfather taught him how to fix a car himself, how to fix things around the house, just how to be able to rely on yourself. They were the first ones that he told about wanting to make music and the first to encourage him even when the rest of the family thought it was stupid. They were the first ones to find out he’d gotten his first shot at just seventeen years old. They were the ones who taught him how to be careful with his money, to not blow it all because you never knew when the next shot would come. In the end, it wasn’t even old age that took them. A car accident on a snowy night took his grandmother. He lost his grandfather six months later from a broken heart.

It’s hard to remember that time because they were everything to him. He hadn’t even realized that they had changed their Will. That they had rewritten it to leave everything to him. If he had known, he never would have accepted it. But, there was a letter, too, confirming his grandfather had been of sound mind when they changed it. It went on to say that Jihoon was the only one in the family that came around just because he wanted to. So, he was the only one they felt could care for their legacy after they were gone. Something like that, it brings out the worst in people. Jihoon’s family was no different. First, they all insisted that he should share it, that they were owed part of it by blood. And then, they started to realize that he had his own success already. That he was selling songs and working with more people. They didn’t know who, exactly, because he never told him his pseudonym for producing, but the final letter from his grandfather mentioned how proud they had been. It got even uglier from there. Family members he’d never spoken to came out of the woodwork asking for favors or saying he should help. He had the means to do it, by his own success and the inheritance. In the end, he wound up cutting most of them out unless they were able to understand that they weren’t entitled to something he earned.

“So that’s why I stay here, it’s just easier,” he finishes.

You’re not even sure when you started crying, but you turn away to wipe your eyes. It’s not even your sadness. When you turn back, you find Jihoon looking closed-off. It breaks your heart all over again as you reach out to him. “Nobody should have to deal with that. What they did, what they put you through, it’s awful.”

“We all have history, right?” he asks. “I just don’t like to share it because I don’t want to be questioning if people like me for me or for what I could do for them.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I still see you as a former grumpy cat, secret softie and my…” you start, but trail off, trying to find the right word.

“Landlord?” he suggests through a humorless laugh. It makes your eyes soften at him.

“No, friend,” you decide.

“I just dumped a bunch of trauma on you and you wanna be my friend?” he asks, partly self-deprecating, partly hopeful.

“You don’t seem so bad,” you shrug.

“I guess we’ll see,” he says softly.

The rest of the night is lighter, mostly with you trying to figure out more things he likes as subtly as possible. He laughs when you come downstairs with the presents you’re saving until Christmas to open because he can tell Jun’s right away. You don’t tell him that you’ve already ordered half a dozen small things that’ll be at the house by Christmas Eve so that you can wrap them all up for him. You just want to see his face.

Two days before Christmas, you and Jihoon finish off the decorations and pick up groceries. Well, you’re the one who picks up groceries after insisting on splitting the bill. Jihoon has another mysterious errand that he has to run. Even though you really want to know, you decide to let him have his secrets. At least for now. You’re beginning to understand that he trusts you and he’ll tell you whatever it is when he’s ready, if it even has anything to do with you at all.

When the morning of Christmas Eve dawns, you’re actually excited. The past few days have been a whirlwind, and you’re definitely not done, but the house feels like Christmas. Three days ago you never would have thought Jihoon was enough to bring that holiday joy into the house. Now, you’re so insanely thankful that he’s gone above and beyond. Without anyone else around, or any other distractions, it’s been like a crash course in getting to know each other. There’s so much more to him than you ever realized.

The day passes in a haze of cooking, wrapping last minute presents, and laughter. Lots of laughter. You’ve heard Jihoon laugh more in the last couple days than in the entire time you’ve lived here. Not for the first time, you think it’s a wonderful sound and wish he’d laugh more. It’s easy to understand why he doesn’t, why he’s so guarded, but still. A person can dream.

With all the food prepped and the tree perfectly decorated, you decide it’s time to put your additional presents underneath. Jihoon huffs when you say you just got him a few small things you thought he’d like, before returning with a handful of presents for you. Every fiber of your being wants to give him shit over it. But, it’s Christmas, so you just call a truce instead. And light up like a kid when he suggests starting a fire in the fireplace.

“I’ll go make adult hot cocoa,” you tell him when he starts crumpling up old newspapers for the base of the fire.

“Adult hot cocoa?” he asks, face scrunched up like he’s adorably confused.

“Unless you just want the non-alcoholic version,” you offer.

“I’ll at least try it,” he concedes. His smile is soft when you squeal and run off to the kitchen.

By the time you’ve melted the chocolate (because who uses a premade mix in a kitchen this nice?), Jihoon has the fire going and is sitting on the couch. You’re about to ask why he’s scrolling his phone when he presses a button and Christmas music softly starts playing through the speakers. You hand over his mug and watch as he takes a sip. Even if he tries to hide it, you can tell he loves it and your smile is victorious. Probably why he tries to hide it.

You’re onto your second mug and asking Jihoon to find a blanket so that you can sit on the floor in front of the couch. It’s easier to stretch out closer to the fire. As is his way, he whines about how it’ll be too warm, even though you tell him he doesn’t have to sit with you. Still, he gets the blanket and plops down right next to you, so close that you’re almost touching. It only takes a couple minutes before he’s complaining that it’s really warm and then pulling off his sweatshirt. Your retort dies on your lips when you turn your head to the side and see the way the sweatshirt pulls his t-shirt up on the way. Or how muscular his arms look now that they’re exposed. You’re thankful that you look away before he catches you.

It’s quiet between the two of you as you watch the flames dance in the fireplace. There’s only comfort now, unlike a few days ago. That strikes you. Has it only been a few days since this man was something of a stranger to you? It almost feels like a lifetime ago. When you turn your head to him, you find he’s already looking at you.

“Can I admit something?” you ask.

“Course,” he says softly.

“I’m really glad I decided to stay here for Christmas,” you say, equally softly. You want to take a mental image of the smile that follows.

“Can I admit something, too?” he asks. You only nod. “I’m really glad you did too. This is the best Christmas I’ve had in years and it’s still only Christmas Eve.”

Before you can think better of it, you lean forward and kiss his cheek. Just for a second. Then you drop your head to his shoulder and let out a sigh. It’s the most content you’ve felt in a long time. Jihoon adjusts his arm, and you worry he doesn’t want your head on his shoulder, until he just moves it along the edge of the couch. It lets you lean against him easier, so you scoot a little closer and settle again. After another minute, he rests his head on top of yours. Without even seeming to realize it, his arm curls around your shoulder, holding you tight to him. It makes you acutely aware of his body next to yours. Moments ago, you were thinking that you could fall asleep like this. Now, you’re wide awake.

He must sense some kind of change because he pulls his head up. “Are you okay?”

His voice is so gentle, so full of concern. You wonder how he can sound so calm when your brain is overthinking everything. “Yeah, I just, I don’t know. Being close to you like this is really nice and not at all what I was expecting.”

Jihoon reaches out to tilt your chin up so that he can look you in the eyes. “It doesn’t have to be something you’re not expecting. It is nice to be close to you like this.”

That��s the other thing you can’t really believe has changed so much in a matter of days. This man is a walking contradiction in so many ways. Grumpy as a default, yet so incredibly soft. The most private person you’ve met, yet willing to share why he struggles with Christmas. Rough around the edges, yet also unfailingly kind. Constantly wearing oversized clothes, yet secretly really fit. Okay, maybe that’s not so much a contradiction as you checking him out.

“What if I was open to it being more than just being close?” you venture.

“How much is in your adult hot cocoa?” he asks, with some obvious difficulty.

“Enough to make me a little more honest, maybe, but not even enough to get buzzed on,” you answer.

“Then, I can say if you’re open to more than just being close, I really fucking want to kiss you,” he says. “I have all day.”

“Just all day?” you tease. He gives you an unimpressed look. “What are you waiting for?”

“You to say it’s okay,” he says and leans closer to you.

“It’s okay, Ji,” you whisper, lips already nearly touching.

You’re expecting a soft kiss, are as prepared for that as you can be. And it starts off relatively soft, like he’s testing the waters. It quickly morphs into anything, but soft. It’s the kind of kiss that sets your entire body on fire. The kind of kiss that steals your breath and becomes the only thing you need. It’s steady and desperate, all at the same time. You’re not even sure how your hands find their way into his hair that curls along his neck. It’s even softer than you imagined it would be.

“So, is this your move?” you ask, pulling away just long enough to catch your breath.

“What?” he asks. His lips are already a little swollen.

“Getting the fire going with a little music on in the background,” you tease.

“Trust me,” he begins, punctuating his words with featherlight kisses along your neck. “I’ve never gone to this much trouble for anyone and it definitely wasn’t to get here.”

The confession is so honest. So serious. It’s completely at odds with your teasing. But, should you really expect anything else from Jihoon? He can tease with the best of them, for sure. The last few days he’s also shown that you bring out an honesty that surprises him. You’re not sure if you trust yourself to speak, so you just pull his face up to kiss him again. It’s kind of an uncomfortable position, leaning against the couch, but you’re also not really sure if you care. That is, you’re not sure you care until he turns to pull you into his lap. It’s a little awkward and you have to break the kiss to get settled. Once you’re settled, though, it’s much nicer to be straddled across him like this. Much easier to press your chest into his and keep tangling your fingers in his hair. Much easier for him to wrap his arms around you like he doesn’t want you to go anywhere. You want to tell him that there’s nowhere else in the world you’d rather be.

As you kiss him, you let your hands wander down his arms. There’s a safety in being held by him. There’s a strength to him you really never realized, kind of quiet like he is, a little unassuming. The kind of strength that sneaks up on you when you’re not really expecting it. Not only does every part of your body respond to him, but your mind does too. It’s just safe. You’re not sure how you know, you just do. He’s the kind of person that you can really trust to see all of you and still accept you. It’s entirely too much to be feeling about someone this fast, so you push that aside. When you inch your bodies closer together, your core drags across him and sends an ache through you. You do it several more times, back and forth, craving that friction.

“Fuck,” he hisses out.

“I’m sorry, is that too much?” you worry. Suddenly a little self-conscious that there’s been some kind of miscommunication.

He grabs your chin and pulls you back to look into his eyes. “No. It’s never too much. I want whatever you’re willing to give me.”

“But, you don’t know what I’m…” you start. His eyes are serious, intense. You’re burning up and it has nothing to do with the fire.

“Whatever you’re willing to give me, I’ll happily take it. Even if that means it doesn’t go past this,” he reassures you.

“I think I want it all,” you whisper.

“You think you do, or you actually do?” he asks.

You study him for a moment, looking for signs that he’s going to hurry off or something. With one of his hands, he’s tracing patterns against your thigh through the material of your pants. Everything about him seems sincere. Everything seems steady.

“I do.”

It’s a different smile he gives you then, one that says he’s relieved, maybe even a little surprised. One that says he’s genuinely happy. But, most of all, one that says he just wants whatever the night turns into.

“Let’s go upstairs, I don’t want you hurting your knees like this,” he says softly.

You look over your shoulder at the fireplace and he follows your gaze. “We should…”

“I’ll take care of that, just go upstairs. To my room,” he says and you suppress a slight shudder at being told what to do. You kind of like that side of him. “Get comfortable, I’ll just be a minute.”

You get off his lap, quietly thankful for his consideration of your knees and kiss him softly. It’s also easy to see that he’s giving you a little bit of time to be sure. To clear your head away from the tree and the fire and the holiday everything. It’s time you don’t need because you’re definitely sure. The second you step foot through his door, you realize that you’ve never been in his bedroom before. It’s beautifully decorated in a way that screams him. When you sit down on the edge of the bed, you sigh. It’s so comfortable.

This part hasn’t ever been the easiest for you, the waiting for someone to come into the room and knowing what’s going to happen. But, you do know what’s happening and sitting there completely clothed seems silly. In the end, you settle for leaving your sleeveless shirt and underwear on, but taking everything else off, including your bra. You just have time to sit back against the bed when he walks through the door and closes it behind him. Force of habit, you assume, since there isn’t anyone else home. His eyes drink you in, scanning down your body and all your curves. It’s so immediately comfortable that you don’t have the urge to cover back up.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he utters and it makes you blush a little. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Not in a while when I’ve been this undressed,” you answer quietly with your head down.

You feel the bed dip and look up at him, sitting right in front of you. “That’s crazy. You’re one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever known.”

“You’re so sweet,” you say with a smile.

“It’s what you deserve,” he says and gets back off the bed.

It’s his turn to remove the layers, stopping when all he has are his boxer briefs. You fight back a gasp (and lose, as is evident by his smirk) when he takes off his shirt. What the fuck?

“Jihoon, what the fuck? Come here,” you request. He listens, but takes his time. When he’s within your reach, you run your fingers along his stomach. Trace each ab muscle like you can’t believe this is what’s been under the shirt the whole time.

“I work about a bit,” he shrugs and you roll your eyes.

“A bit, he says,” you tease back.

“Can I get in the bed now? Or do I have to stay here?” he asks.

“You can get in bed, but I want to be in your lap again,” you state.

“Fine by me,” he readily agrees.

There’s a weird sense of time with him. You could kiss him for hours, may just do that. It also feels like it’s only been seconds when you pull back to catch your breath. You delight in the way he hisses when you run your nails down his stomach. Yelp when he smacks your ass in response. But, it doesn’t stop you from doing it again, maybe just so you can get another smack. You tell him not to be too gentle with you and he groans. There’s still that little bit of clothing between you, though, and it’s hard to get the friction you need.

It’s like he senses what you want, or maybe what you need, and he positions you over one of his thighs. Helps you move back and forth to find a rhythm. It gives you that friction that you’ve been craving. He peppers kisses all over, trying to find the places that you like. Lingers wherever gets the best noises out of you. All while you grind against his thigh. When you think it can’t get better, he pulls your shirt up over your head and casts it aside. He rolls one of your nipples between his fingers. The look on his face when you arch into his fingers is so satisfied. It makes him carry on while also kissing across your chest.

“Fuck, Ji, if I keep this up I’m gonna come on your thigh,” you whimper.

“So do it,” he answers.

“I can’t, that’s…” you start, cutting off when he sucks hard into the skin of your breast. “Fuck!”

“That’s what?” he prompts, returning to your nipple.

“I can’t come just from this,” you mutter lamely. It makes you feel like a teenager.

“Then I better help because I want you to make a mess,” he says.

Before you can protest, he’s kissing you again. His thumb hooks into your underwear and rubs across your clit in time with you rocking. It’s too much all at once. Too much stimulation. Too close. Too different. It all works, though, because you’re coming undone in seconds. Making a mess of his thigh just like he wanted. Screaming out his name and thankful to know nobody else can hear you. You lean forward to rest your forehead against his, trying to steady your breathing.

“That was so hot,” he whispers into the limited space between you.

“I’ve never gotten off like that before,” you admit.

“I wonder if there’s anything else I can pull out of you for the first time,” he says.

“Like what?” you wonder.

“I guess we’ll see,” he answers

“I think it’s time for me to take care of you,” you say.

He kisses you gently and pulls away. “Not yet.”

“But,” you start, only to cut off when he flips the two of you over.

The shock over being completely manhandled by Jihoon is all you register until you feel his fingers by your hips, tugging your ruined underwear down your legs. All you can do is watch as he kisses from your ankle all the way up your inner thigh and down the other side. When he pulls himself back up your body to settle between your legs, you shiver. Try to play it off as his breath against your cunt, still slick. You watch as he spreads your lips open so that he can lick into you.

“Fuck, Ji,” you whine out.

“Just relax, sweetheart,” he urges before diving into you again.

You’re expecting it to be a little frenzied. Not that you’ve never enjoyed getting eaten out, but you just kind of see it as foreplay to get through. That was before Jihoon, apparently. He takes his time, carefully builds you up again. Has you begging for something more. Has you uttering phrases that don’t make any sense. Has you seeing stars in the darkness of the room. Has you feeling the loss when he removes his mouth.

“No, Ji, please,” you beg. “Your tongue feels so good.”

“I know,” he says and then he’s kissing you.

He keeps kissing you as he runs a finger through your wetness, once and then again. Keeps kissing you when he slides his finger inside of you. Nips at your lip when you moan at the addition of his second finger. You can feel how tightly you’re coiled from the build up with his tongue. The way he fucks his fingers into you, you know you won’t last long. It’s hard and fast and as desperate as you felt moments ago when you begged for him. He’s relentless, even when your walls grip his fingers and your toes start to curl. You come so hard on his finger that he actually has you squirting. And honestly, he’s got you blacking out a little bit too.

“Jesus fucking christ,” you curse when he falls beside you. “Your fingers, your mouth, oh my god.”

“I’d ask if it was good, but I think I know the answer,” he chuckles.

You swat at his chest, but he catches your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles. So tender that it takes the bite out of your next statement. “Fuck off.”

“Your body is so amazing, I could watch you come every day and never get sick of it,” he admits.

You prop yourself up on an elbow to look at him. He’s laying on his back, hand casually running over his already hard dick through his briefs. You move his hand and free him. There’s a hunger in his gaze as he watches you spit into your hand and start running it along his shaft.

“Go slow,” he requests and you look at up at him. “Watching you is so hot that I’m a little wound up. And I still want to fuck you.”

“Jihoon, you’ve already…” you start.

“Please. You can take care of me anytime. I want to feel you around me,” he whispers. It’s not quite a beg, but it’s close. All you can do is nod okay. “I need to hear you.”

“Yes, Ji, I want you to fuck me,” you say.

He rolls over on the bed to reach into the bedside table and rustles around for a minute. The sign before he rolls back over sounds bad. “I don’t have a condom. It’s, uh, well it’s been awhile.”

“It’s okay,” you say.

“I guess maybe this will have to…” he starts.

“No, I mean it’s fine. I’m on birth control and it’s been awhile for me too, so it’s fine. I trust you,” you say, finding you do actually trust him.

“Are you sure?” he checks.

“Fuck, yes, please. I don’t care that you’ve made me come twice already, please fuck me,” you insist and it works. He smiles and slides his briefs off.

In another second, he’s positioning himself between your legs again. You lay back against the pillow behind your head and just look up at him, so impossibly fond. It’s too soon to be this fond. But, you see the same look in his eyes, so maybe you’re not alone. He lines himself up and drags his tip against your entrance. Opens the lube you hadn’t even noticed and takes it into his hand. He lets it warm up for a second before running his hand over his dick. Then, he’s back at your entrance and slowly pressing into you. He takes his time letting you adjust, watches your face for signs that it’s okay. He leans forward to kiss you and it’s so gentle you want to cry.

You’re glad this is slow, that he’s taking his time. It’s not that you’re inexperienced, it’s just that you can’t remember the last time you felt this comfortable with anyone. You’re not sure you’ve ever known how nice it was to just look into someone’s eyes while you’re fucking. Not sure you’ve wanted to be this close. Jihoon’s body is pressed against yours as he thrusts into you, but it’s still not enough. You wrap your legs around his hips, run your fingers down his back, arch into him. Anything to meld your bodies together that much more. He’s not as vocal now, but you’re probably taking care of that for both of you. You can see all the things he wants to say in the eyes that stay trained on you.

His thrusts start to get a little off rhythm and your moans become more broken. “Fuck, Ji, yes! Right there.”

“I’m gonna fucking come, oh my god,” he moans out.

“Me too,” you whine. “Fuck, it’s too much.”

“Come for me, please, I need to feel you,” he very nearly begs.

“Fuck, I’m coming!” you scream out.

Your whole body shudders and you sort of register the praise coming from Jihoon. He follows right behind you, releasing into you. You can tell he’s trying to keep his weight off of you, but you pull him to just let go. Reluctantly, he settles his body down on top of yours. The weight is pleasant and being close to him is even better. After a moment, his breathing falls into line with yours. It’s several moments longer before he carefully pulls out of you and rolls to the side.

“Wow,” he says. You can hear the smile in his voice.

“Yeah,” you agree.

It’s much later than usual for you by the time you wake up on Christmas morning. But, it had been late by the time you and Jihoon had gotten cleaned up and back in bed. Even later by the time you stopped wanting to talk while all cuddled up. When you wake up, you feel his chest pressed into your back and his arm draped across your body. The second you start to move, his arm tightens and he somehow pulls you closer to him. He presses kiss into your hair.

“Merry Christmas,” he says, voice thick with sleep.

“Merry Christmas,” you answer.

He adjusts behind you and you realize he’s a little hard again, pressing into your ass. Even though you know it’s not fair, you wiggle your ass against him. You’re more than a little surprised when he bucks, just once, into you in response.

“Sorry, I’m sure you’re a little sore this morning,” he says, still hoarse.

“Not so sore,” you answer, pressing back again.

“Don’t you want to see what’s under the tree?” he asks, the teasing clear in his voice.

You turn over so you’re facing him. “I think I’d rather unwrap this present first.”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he groans. But, he pulls you against him all the same, clearly not opposed.

Once you’re both showered again and dressed, you pad downstairs and straight into the kitchen to find Jihoon is already at the counter getting the coffee going. He looks so cute with his messy, wet hair, that you can’t help yourself. You have to come up and hug him from behind. Place a kiss between his shoulder blades and then rest your head. All he can do is just put a hand over yours.

“What do you want for breakfast?” you ask when you pull away.

“The cinnamon rolls you insisted we had to have,” he says like it’s obvious.

By the time you get those in the oven, he’s handing you a perfect cup of coffee, exactly the way you like it. It feels like neither of you can be physically separated. Hands finding each other as you move around the kitchen. Little kisses as you pass by. Just drawn together like magnets. Once the cinnamon rolls come out, and you add the extra icing that you insisted on, the two of you head to the living room.

You think you were supposed to text or call Jun when you open his present, but you’re a little stuck on opening the things Jihoon got you at the last minute. He insists that you go first and open your presents so that he can see your reaction. The first couple are silly, but thoughtful. Just little things that show he’s actually been paying attention to you much longer than you realized. Not that he had some kind of crush or anything, just that he pays attention when people talk. When you think you’re done, he pulls out a small box.

“I wanted you to open this last,” he says in response to your confused look.

It’s a small box, very nicely wrapped. You open it to find a beautiful necklace, simple and stunning. Exactly the kind of thing you like to wear. But, exactly the type of thing you can’t accept. “JIhoon, it’s beautiful. But, you must know it’s too much. I can’t take this.”

“I didn’t spend anything on it,” he assures you and slides closer so he can look down at it in the box. “It was my grandmother’s. And before you say you can’t take it again, she’d want someone to have it. She wanted to pass her jewelry on, but was so sick of our family. I think she’d really like you, so I want you to have it.”

“Thank you,” you say softly and lean forward to kiss him.

Watching Jihoon open the little things that you got him is everything you hoped it would be. He’s so appreciative of each thing, even if they seem small to you. They’re all things he says he really needs. To him, that’s one of the best kinds of gifts because it shows that you’re listening. It shows that you want to make someone else’s life just a little easier. It nearly makes you emotional when he’s the one opening things.

You want to stay curled up on the couch with Jihoon forever, watching stupid Christmas movies and invading his personal space. He grumbles a little at you clinging to him, but pouts the second you pull away. Sadly, you have to get up to start some of the cooking for Christmas dinner. Jihoon offers to help, knows you’re feeling a little sore, and you wave him off. Cooking at Christmas is one of your favorite things. You get your music going and don’t even register anything else. You don’t hear his footsteps or his voice talking to someone.

“Hey, Ji? Do you think I should make all the rolls? Probably, right?” you ask and turn around to see he’s standing in the doorway holding his phone up.

“Did my bestie just call you Ji?” a voice asks from the phone.

“Uh, yeah,” Jihoon answers and closes the distance to you. He hands over the phone. “Jun was looking for you.”

“Oh, hi, Junie! How’s your parents’?” you ask. His eyes scan you and you look down too late. You’re not wearing your shirt, it’s one of Jihoon’s that you stole because it was more comfortable.

“Not as good as it is there, apparently,” Jun says with a giggle.

“Oh, well, you see…” you start and Jun is cackling.

“I’ll let you get back to cooking, but expect to have a long conversation when I’m home,” he says once he stops laughing.

“You sound like my parent,” you whine.

“Just try and tell me there’s nothing to talk about,” Jun challenges and you look over at Jihoon sitting at the kitchen table.

“I can’t,” you say, still looking at him.

“I knew it,” Jun says, triumphant. “Give the phone back to Ji…”

“You don’t get to call me that,” Jihoon chimes in.

“So much to talk about,” Jun repeats as you hand the phone back over.

The rest of the afternoon passes too quickly. Jihoon stays in the kitchen with you when you have to cook and lounges on the couch with you watching movies when you’re waiting for things to finish. He helps wherever he can and genuinely seems to appreciate the effort that you’re taking. Well, he appreciates it almost as much as the dinner itself when you sit down to eat. Without question, it’s the best Christmas you can remember. It turns out that maybe you were right all along. Christmas wasn’t about presents or specific people or anything. It was about feeling joy and thankful and just a deep connection with whoever you were with. It makes you realize you do need to talk to Jihoon, though.

After dinner, the two of you settle back on the couch with a glass of wine. His free hand traces patterns into your legs that are across his lap. “Hey, so about what Jun said…”

“Jun is an idiot,” Jihoon brushes off.

“He is, but he also has a point. There’a a lot to talk about,” you say. He turns his head to look at you.

“I meant what I said last night, I’ll take whatever you want to give me,” he says and takes another sip of wine.

“But, that’s so…I don’t know,” you start, searching for the words.

He just shrugs like you’re talking about something so simple. Maybe you are. “I’m pretty open about things when I’m comfortable. I’m also kind of an all in or all out guy. I don’t know, that’s probably too much. I’m happy with whatever you’re comfortable giving me.”

“You’re going to make me fall for you, Lee Jihoon,” you tease lightly. You’re also testing a little bit.

He smiles at you, that soft one that makes his eyes crinkle. “That doesn’t sound so bad to me.”

“I guess it doesn’t,” you agree.

“Thank you for being the best thing about Christmas in a long time,” he says. So honest. It’s so simple, too.

“It’s been perfect,” you agree. “The only thing that could make it better is…”

“Snow,” he interrupts.

“Yeah,” you agree.

He shakes his head and points to the window. “No, it’s snowing.”

You turn your head to follow his finger and see he’s right. Snow falls in light, beautiful swirls just outside the window. You can’t remember the last white Christmas you had, even living somewhere it snows.

“Wow, this really is the perfect Christmas,” you whisper.

i hope you liked it. please reblog or leave a comment to let me know your thoughts 💕

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