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#the almost nearly perfect people
surreal-duck · 8 months
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hi!! i just wanted to say that ive liked midoyuzu since i was like 14 and its been a few years since then (obviously) but seeing your midoyuzu art now is so!!! its so fulfilling to my past self who had like NO art to go off of, i guess? anyway! your art is super good and i love it so much <3
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im glad omg? extremely late to the party but by god i am bringing snacks in here or die trying o7 was pretty baffled the first time finding out more abt their dynamic and looking them up on here to find maybe like two more recent posts and the rest from no sooner than 2017 or so askjdghsjkgdhjks but really THANK YOU!!!!!!!! happy to be of service to your inner 14yo somewhat ;v;
yknow what though the really funny thing is that i wasnt even that into them initially. just remembered that cute interaction at the end of xmas live and thought "huh these two r kinda sweet actually" and that curiosity is always a slippery slope into genuine investment and by god is tripping into it a favorite pastime of mine
#if i had to say tho honestly these two were both the last ones of their units i managed to get attached to properly#yuzuru has definitely become my fav of fine though but my actual rst fav is kanata LOL#also finding out yuzuru likes to draw in general is everything to me you go you funky master artist#cute critter line took me out back w a metal chair why r they so. auhhg#actually my good friend who got me in here Knows i was actually on track to becoming an ibyz liker but then. anvil fell comically on my hea#before i knew it theyve taken over almost every corner of my brain get them out!!!!! get them out!!!!!!!!#and i was already a ryuseitai fan and enjoyed fine casually but oh. oh god im a yuzurup too now arent i goddammit#SORRY THIS BECAME A RAMBLE UM. THANK YOU VERY MUCH!#asks#anonymous#sometimes i forget that their actual interactions probably amount to no more than 6 or 7 times in canon and the rest is just in my head#that and i just think its rather nice for both of their characters to get along!! romantic or platonic#really sweet to see midori so pumped up and passionate about the things he loves and yuzuru getting thrown off his rhythm of the always#perfect butler who resigns himself into the background most of the time. theyre just having fun!!! silly guys#and yuzuru rly does enjoy art and nonsensical doodles even if people generally find it horrifying midori loves them wholeheartedly its. yea#okay im still rambling. ill shut up now i havent slept properly in a bed in nearly 48 hours i should go do that
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palaeolithicc · 5 months
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personal post in tags
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sheofmanycoffeemugs · 2 months
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Yeah... just bc you say "those aren't real Christians!" or calling others "xtians" doesn't mean right wing christo-nationalists just suddenly aren't christian. Arguing that the left hand thumb isn't connected to the right big toe doesn't make it true.
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stjohnstarling · 3 months
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Alright, so: I want to explain a little more about this connection between the Twilight fandom, Fifty Shades of Grey, and seemingly, the self-publishing industry as a whole. It's a lot, so I'm going to have to chip away at it a bit at a time, and I think the best place to start is by describing the scene in late 2000s Twilight fandom.
In 2009, Twilight was one of the biggest fandoms in the world, although it was nearly invisible to outsiders because it
Was about a straight couple, while most other fandoms were predominantly gay, and
Was conducted almost entirely on fanfiction.net among a group of people who had little other background in fandom. (x)
That meant for many Twilight fans, Twilight was fandom. It was all they knew, and many had no path out. That also made it a corked champagne bottle with the pressure building.
Because of these community dynamics and the declining quality of the Twilight books themselves, Twilight fanfiction evolved to be mostly AUs so alternate they were more-or-less original romance novels that used Bella and Edward as broad character templates. (x)
Seriously, Twilight fandom got really crazy big for a few years there. It was not totally uncommon to get multi-million clicks on a semi-popular story. It's weird looking back on it and calling it "Twilight fandom" because it was really more like "Romance Novel fandom". For real, for a period there, calling a Twilight fanfic author a 'Twilight fan' would be the ultimate insult. But they never stopped writing about Edward and Bella! It's so weird. (x)
If you were in 2000s era fandom, you're probably aware of the phenomenon of Big Name Fans and the various social-climbing dynamics that happened around them. The Twilight fandom took this social power game another level:
This wasn't even just an author thing. There were Big Name Authors (BNAs) but there were also Big Name Readers. These were basically like... full-time rabid fans of a BNA. They devoted so much of their time to helping out the BNAs, reviewing their chapters, making them fanart, promoting their fics, kissing their asses with cringe-worthy intensity, you name it. Which is why you saw what looked like BNAs having 'employees', such as Moi, tby789's Director of Marketing. (x)
It became apparent that these power games weren't just for fandom clout. The fandom was proving that that social power could be translated into real-world dollars. You see, the Twilight fandom used to organize charity auctions where big name authors would auction off custom fanfiction, and the money generated was substantial:
Mostly authors would auction off stories. So if you donated in my name, I'd write you 10,000 words of porn in my Tattward universe, or something new, etc. That's how it worked. The 2009 auction raised $80,000. The 2010 auction raised $140,000. The 2011 auction raised $20,00. [NOTE: this is likely a typo] (x)
A lot of these dynamics were not unique to the Twilight fandom, but it was the combination that created a perfect storm of opportunism. This would end up changing not just fandom dynamics but the publishing industry as a whole.
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darknight3904 · 5 months
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All Yours, Coryo
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𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪:ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʜᴏᴏᴅꜱ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ʙʀɪɴɢꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ ɴᴇᴡ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ꜰɪʟʟᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅᴛʜɪʀꜱᴛʏ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴛᴜʀɴ.
ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ.
𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ʀᴇꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇx. ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ɴᴀɪᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʜᴏ ʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ɪꜱ. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ʙʟɪɴᴅᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ'ꜱ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀɴɪᴘᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ꜱᴏ ꜱʜᴇ ᴄᴀ��'ᴛ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴀʟʟ ʜɪꜱ ʀᴇᴅ ꜰʟᴀɢꜱ. ꜱᴏ ᴀᴍ ɪ.
ɪ ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛʟʏ ʜɪᴛ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʏᴇꜱᴛᴇʀᴅᴀʏ ɪɴꜱᴛᴇᴀᴅ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴀᴠᴇ ꜱᴏ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴀᴡ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴇᴀʀʟɪᴇʀ, ɴᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ.
ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ.
Coriolanus has never been the easiest person to understand. His mind was always racing and it kept you on your toes. Even now as he fretted over his appearance in the mirror you could tell his mind was thinking of a million things beyond whether or not his tie fit him correctly.
"For what it's worth, I think you look perfect." You say, sipping at your drink, you had been ready for nearly twenty minutes while Coriolanus was still figuring out what tie matched his pants best.
"I'm sure you do but this isn't just any party, I'm campaigning tonight and everything must be perfect." He says adjusting his hair even though it already sat perfectly styled atop his head.
It was Coriolanus' 23rd birthday and instead of celebrating like you usually did, you were both spending it at a party full of people who might help him reach the presidency by the beginning of next year. You approach him and wrap your arms around him, resting your chin on his shoulder.
"It will be." You assure, pressing a kiss to his exposed neck where his makeup artist did a wonderful job at covering the marks you had left behind last night.
"If all goes well tonight, you might just become the first lady of Panem one day." He smiles at you through the mirror
"Does that mean we're getting married?" You laugh, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat at the idea of being with him forever
"Maybe..." Coriolanus says suddenly avoiding your eyes as his face reddens under your gaze.
You giggle at your boyfriend's flustered face, despite how grown up he had become in the past few years he was still the same boy you met at the academy all those years ago who just wanted his own bowl of fruit to gobble down.
"You definitely wanna marry me, Coryo!" You say almost as if you had discovered a secret of his.
"Well if you're not interested I can always find another." He jests, finally tying his tie.
"Oh please, I'm the only one who could ever tolerate you." You smile as he spins around to face you and rests his hands on your hips
"That you are, darling, that you are." He smiles and presses a chaste kiss to your lips
Coriolanus is sure you are his favorite person in the entire world. From the way you'd laugh at his jokes to the way your nose whistled when you slept, he loved it all. Even now as the two of you had long abandoned your teenage years and stepped into adulthood, he knew he didn't want to lose you. His interactions with Lucy Gray and his time in District 12 had only solidified how he wanted you to stay close to him. He watches as you cross the room to slip into a pair of pretty high heels, he loved the way your dress sat on your body, it was perfectly fitted and he wondered what designer had been able to craft it so perfectly.
He looked back at the mirror and pretended to fiddle with his outfit again even though he knew he looked perfect. Instead, his eyes cast to the small table next to the mirror where a collection of photos sat you and him over the past five years. His favorite though was the one that was taken at your 17th birthday party. He remembered how warm it had been, and at one point someone had filled a bucket of water and tossed at you. He had expected you to cry out and push everyone out of your home but instead, he was met with your laughter and thus a water fight had begun. The picture of the two of you had been taken not even twenty minutes later, both of you were drenched but happy and you had linked your arms together right before the picture was taken. Sometimes he wished to go back to those moments, to relieve the last bits of his boyhood even though it meant going back to that decrepit building he once lived in and the taste of cabbage a constant on his tongue.
"Thinking about the past?" You ask from across the room.
"Thinking about how ugly we look here." He says picking up the photo
"Nonsense, we're adorable in that. If I remember correctly that was taken a few weeks before you tripped me in my room trying to slow dance and then you gave me the kiss of a lifetime." You smile
"I didn't trip you, you tripped me with your bad dancing." He laughed, returning the photo to its proper place among the others.
"Whatever you say, Coryo." You smiled, he could tell you didn't believe one word that came from his mouth about the tripping incident.
These parties were always a bit tedious for you. You enjoyed seeing Coriolanus happy among Capitol elites and you loved the lavish dresses you got to wear but sometimes it became overwhelming. The sheer amount of reporters that were always at these things is what drove you crazy. Coriolanus ate the attention up and answered all their questions about how he'd change Panem for the better but you were usually left answering questions about what your dress was made of or what your relationship was with Coriolanus. He often assured you that once he won the presidency he'd have more control over what was asked and that you'd never have to answer another dress question again. You hoped he won as soon as possible, it was tiring pretending this line of questioning was interesting.
"Is that real gold on your sleeves?"
"Is that ring on your finger an engagement ring?"
"Who did your hair for the evening?"
"Are you going to have the future president's children?"
"Did you seduce Coriolanus Snow for power in the Capitol?"
"How many toes do you have?"
God you wished they'd all shut up, or at least get better questions. Even just something as small as your involvement with your father's company would've been better than this. You ignored whatever trash was coming from their mouths and held on to Coriolanus' arm like he was going to disappear and end up back in District 12 again.
You remembered that day very well, after Coriolanus' tribute had won he had just disappeared despite promising to walk you home after the games had ended. When he didn't show up for graduation either, you found yourself outside Tigris and Grandma'am's new residence looking for answers. Tigris had told you what happened with him and that girl, Lucy Gray, how he cheated with rat poison and a handkerchief of his father's. At first, you had been distraught that he was sent off to District 12, stuck there for twenty years as some peacekeeping grunt, you'd be an ugly middle-aged woman by the time he got back! You had been in the pits of despair about your relationship with him but all it took was one terrifying meeting with Dr. Gaul to change your attitude. Once she revealed that Coriolanus would be back in the Capitol soon, and she was simply testing his dedication to the games, you relaxed. While Dr. Gaul might not have all her marbles you knew she wasn't lying, and sure enough, your Coriolanus returned to you in a matter of weeks.
However, he returned to you differently though. Sure, his head was shaved like all Peacekeepers and the curls you loved to play with were gone, but his attitude had also changed. Perhaps it was that Songbird he never wanted to speak of even now. You could never quite place what happened between Coriolanus and her, all that mattered to you was that he had assured you it wasn't romantic. Just shared ambitions to both win something. In her case her life and in his the Plinth Prize, not that that went well for her since she had disappeared shortly after she went home. You weren't quite sure what to make of Lucy Gray, the mysterious Songbird who had enchanted all of Panem just five years ago. You had only spoken to her once and it was just to compliment her singing during her interview. She hadn't exactly impressed you with her in that moment but she must have impressed Coriolanus at some point if he was willing to break rules for her.
Or perhaps his change was due to whatever training Peacekeepers went through and the death of Sejanus that had rocked the entire Capitol when he was revealed as a traitor, you knew Coriolanus had been close to him. Of course, despite all his changes and attitude adjustments, he never applied them to you. So, here you stayed by his side, happy that he still loved you the same. Soft touches and sweet words remained constant as the two of you aged and explored the advantages of adulthood. One of your favorite things about being 23 was moving out of your family's home and into the penthouse Coriolanus had chosen for the two of you. Waking up next to Coriolanus each day and seeing how he looked before his eyes fluttered open had to be your favorite part of the days you spent together. Brushing his hair from his eyes and counting the freckles that just barely brushed his pale skin was something you did daily until his pretty blue eyes met yours again. Once he did wake though, it was hard to get him to stay in bed with you. His peaceful state was always replaced with a man who was always working towards something, ambition was always fueling him.
You didn't mind his rough exterior that emerged each morning though, Coriolanus was cold and hard on everyone but you. Perhaps it was your shared childhood memories and teenage romance that prevented him from treating you coldly like he did poor Tigris but you weren't sure. One thing you did know was that the boy you grew up with was gone and a man stood in his place, brooding and cold to everyone but you.
"I'm going to get us a drink and then if you want we can dance." He whispered in your ear
"Can you get me that fizzy lemon drink they usually serve?" You ask
"Of course, I'll bring you some of those hors d'oeuvres you like with the cheese as well."
And then, he was gone from your side moving expertly through the crowd. That dazzling blonde hair accompanied by the broadest shoulders you've ever seen on a man disappeared among the throngs of people craning their necks to get a better look at the future president and his pretty face.
"A true marvel isn't he?" a voice to your right said
You turned to be met by none other than Lucky Flickerman, a drink in one hand and a young child's hand grasped in the other.
"I'm not interested in doing an interview, Lucky. If you want information on Coryo you can ask him yourself." You say, ready to walk away from the Capitol's favorite news anchor turned Hunger Games host.
"Coryo...what an interesting nickname, a bit childish for a man who might watch over us all soon. No matter, I would however absolutely love to report on you one day and maybe even that big business you're the heiress of, but I'm actually talking to you for this little one tonight." Lucky smiles motioning to the boy who you guessed was his son. "He was admiring that stunning dress of yours and I thought he might want to see it up close and personal."
For once you didn't mind being asked about your clothes as you crouched down to the little boy's height, he couldn't be more than 5 or 6.
"You have a good eye, would you like to feel the fabric? The designer I met with made it wonderfully soft." You smile, thinking of how Tigris had gushed over the blood-red fabric that would perfectly match Coriolanus' suit with you just weeks ago.
The boy reaches his hand out and brushes it along expensive fabric and a smile grows on his face.
"What's your name?" You ask
"Caesar." He says "I just turned 6 last week."
"Well, Caesar, six is a marvelous age to be, you can do all sorts of things at six. In fact, when I turned six I learned to ride a bicycle for the first time, I did however scrape my knees half a million times. I even still have a few scars on my knees would you like to see them?." You smile at him and he nods.
"Lucky Flickerman, I thought I told your producers that you weren't allowed to bother her with your idiotic questions the way the other reporters do. You clearly don't value your job, if you did you would have listened to my words." Coriolanus' voice suddenly fills your ears as you quickly right yourself, remembering how he once told you you'd have to start holding yourself with more decorum at these events. 'No more acting like a stupid teenager' had been his exact words one night when you were eating dinner together in your shared room.
"It's fine, his son wanted to say hello." You smile down at Caesar, take your lemon drink, and pop some of the food Coriolanus brought with him into your mouth. You sincerely hoped that you weren't about to witness Lucky being fired by the newest mastermind behind The Hunger Games and future the president.
From the corner of your eye, you see Coriolanus cast an intimidating look down at the boy and you resist the urge to elbow him in the ribs and force him to apologize to the poor child who was now cowering behind his father's stylish pant leg.
"I'll see you later, Lucky. We are going to go dancing now." Coriolanus says setting your barely sipped drink and food on a tray of a passing server before whisking you away.
"You're bad with children, Coryo." You say as he leads you towards the dance floor.
"And you're bad at reading people, darling." He says, ignoring the way you pouted at your loss of lemon drink and cheese-sprinkled food.
"What do you mean?" You ask, confused
"Lucky just wanted to get you to answer questions about me," Coriolanus says as he leads you in a dance, the both of you had gotten exceptionally better since your failure at 17 in your childhood bedroom.
"Oh." You say, a bit sad that he wasn't genuinely interested in you, just another dumb reporter who wanted news on Coriolanus' next move. It was amazing how Coriolanus always knew what others were thinking and how to approach a situation best.
"It's alright, just ignore him next time," Coriolanus says, gently squeezing your waist as a form of reassurance.
You nod and rest your head on his shoulder as you spin around the dance floor, suddenly wishing you were tangled up in bed with him rather than dancing in heels that were pinching your toes.
"Can I confess something to you?" Coriolanus whispers, his lips tickling your ear.
"Of course, always " You reply honestly
"I hate seeing you interacting with them." He says in a low voice.
"Them?" You ask
"These people. Seeing them ask you questions about your dress or hair, makes me want to toss them into the arena and watch one of Gaul's mutts rip them apart. I hate the way they look at you like you're a piece of meat attached to my side." He says, possessiveness lacing his tone.
"Oh...well I'm sure they don't all think that way." You try to reason, hoping that he wasn't right about this read on others.
"I doubt it. Look at that one by the fountain in the blue jacket." He says nodding to his right.
You glance over to the fountain and see an old man with a fluffy white beard and white hair to match. He seemed to be carefully watching you and Coriolanus spinning on the dancefloor but you weren't quite sure.
"I'm positive he's standing there imagining what it'd look like if this pretty dress was on the floor and you were on top of him," Coriolanus whispers, knowing it'll have you blushing in his arms.
"Coryo..." You say, trying to keep your composure as he presses his body to yours while you wonder if he's truly right and the old man across the pretty courtyard is truly ogling you.
"Too bad I'm the only one who will ever know what that looks like." He says a certain arrogance in his voice you can't quite place.
"Stop it." You scold, trying to hide the fact that your face is as red as your dress.
"Why? I can't wait to get back to our bedroom tonight and bring what's in my head to life." Coriolanus laughs, his voice was husky in your ears and making you weak in the knees.
"You're so embarrassing, Coryo." You say into his chest, avoiding that sharp gaze he had. How could someone act so well-composed but also have the dirty mind of a perverted teenage boy?
Coriolanus stops leading your dance and hooks a finger under your chin so you're looking up at him again. Sharp blue eyes that felt like they were staring into your soul looked at you, full of passion and want.
"My heart burns for you, darling, as it always has. You're mine, my perfect girl, all mine." He promises before swooping in to deliver what might qualify as the most monumental kiss in all of history.
A certain warmness spreads across your body as he kisses you in public for the first time. It's moments like this with your Coriolanus make your heart swell, these moments remind you that the little boy with the golden curls you met when you were just twelve lives on, just in a different way. You know the teenager you once ate cabbage soup and bread with sweet jam watches over you as you kiss his 23-year-old self, you know he's smiling at where the two of you are now. You're sure that the same boy who once spun you around your childhood bedroom to your favorite slow song is still here with you now, even if he rarely shows his face. Coriolanus Snow is always watching over you, every version of him envelopes you tonight as he shows the world who you are to him.
Your head spins and your lungs burn as you hear a few whoops and cheers from onlookers while others whisper about how Coriolanus' hands are wandering all over your body. You're sure the way he's kissing you is going to end up on some Capitol news reel tomorrow morning but you can't find the heart to care. Somewhere in his chest, you feel Coriolanus let out a deep groan when you run your hands through his hair ruining the way it was perfectly styled for the evening. You gasp when his teeth nip at your bottom lip and pull away, a gasp for air leaving your now surely swollen lips.
"All yours, Coryo." You assure him and lean in for another kiss.
You smile as he kisses back and couldn't care less about what the world around you thinks, you had your Coryo, the boy who you grew up with and ate cabbage together in his decrepit home, the same boy who danced with you despite his own lack of skill. You were with your Coriolanus, the man who was going to carry Panem into a new age of glory.
Part Three
Series Masterlist
Read the Teaser here
So I uh sorta ended up abandoning fluffy Coryo thoughts from part one and went with the reader's pov of him at 23, I hope that's okay with all of you. He still loves you though don't worry, it's just in his own Coryo way. His own magically manipulative Coryo way. I was initially going to make this part during the 10th Hunger Games but then I thought, wouldn't it be interesting to see how he interacts with reader post Lucy Gray considering how much she changes his ideals. To make things clear, every moment with Lucy Gray and Coryo has occurred and the reader is unaware of pretty much all of it here, obviously since she's so goo goo gah gah over him.
If you'd like more of my writings about Coryo and you, my fic Blank Space might be the read for you, it also has a part two that is available now You can read them both here. (Yes it's based on the Taylor Swift song)
Taglist:
@bl0ndelilac
@lucygreene
@lwqfhp
@belle643
@fantasylovestoryme
@alana4610
@threeinchminimum
@dangelnleif
@hannaeditzs
@1950schick
@ennycutie
@janelongxox
@ajs-222
@or-was-it-just-a-dream
@notlilyyyy
@nicksolemnlyswears
@diannana
@ashrsworld
@lokidala
@clintsupremacy
@brilliantreid
@badassbitch-21
@steppingonshatteredglass
@405rry @folklorde24
@eir964
@charlesswife
@fangirling-galore
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touyasdoll · 9 months
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Revered
pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x f!reader
word count: 1k
warnings: sex with feelings, alcohol, you've both been drinking, friends to lovers, he comes across a little possessive, dacryphilia if you squint, body worship, unprotected sex, let me know if I missed any ❤️
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“Do your ears work, princess? Can you hear that?” He sneers, breath tickling the crook of your neck before he pushes himself up, biceps flexing beautifully as he looms over you.
He’s undoubtedly referring to the lewd, loud sounds manifesting between the two of you. It's absolutely intoxicating, just like his touch. You're already tipsy, but now you are drunk on what this man is doing to you.
“This is what pussy is supposed to sound like when you’re getting fucked.”
You aren't quite sure how you ended up here. With Katsuki fucking Bakugou of all people plunging his cock in and out of you while you cling to his strong arms for dear life.
You blame it on the alcohol. That's the only excuse you can think of to explain why he drew closer to you on the couch, hands and lips exploring places that your dear friend had never ventured to touch before.
Why the glasses you were sipping out of landed on the coffee tabe and he somehow wound up on top of you, his searing kiss stealing the very air from your lungs. Why your clothes lay discarded and you're now laid bare for him, limbs tangled up as sweat collects on both of your brows as your bodies move in tandem, seeking sweet, sweet pleasure.
"That pathetic excuse of a man you called a boyfriend never made you feel like this, did he?" He asks as he grabs your jaw, his touch still so gentle, even as his tone grows more desperate. "Did he?"
"Never," you reply, breathless and barely able to form the words as you lose yourself in the delirium.
Katsuki was definitely more imposing than the man who'd dumped you. He'd stood you up for the last time and it was Katsuki who'd come to comfort you, joining you in your libations as you drowned your sorrows over a man who was never worth your time to begin with.
"That's what I fucking thought," he says as a handsome smirk spreads across his face.
His expression is almost devious. It's dark and full of salascious promise as his strokes grow longer. Slower. Deeper.
It feels as if he's nearly penetrating your lungs the way that head of his cock drags against your pulsating walls and knocks against your cervix, kissing it with each pass of his hips, never giving you the chance to truly breathe as his body drives into yours with immense purpose. Like he has something to prove.
Because he does.
He's watched and he's waited. Too many men have come along and broken your heart. Used your body and never taken proper care of your heart, but that's over now.
As he peers down at your perfect form, he makes a promise to himself and to you. His hands glide along your body, worshipping every curve and dip. His mouth travels along your neck, your breasts, your jaw before they claim your mouth again.
It's heated, though that could just be the booze. It must be, you tell yourself, but no one has ever kissed you like this before. Like they mean it. Like they need it to survive. Like they need you.
"You are never going to be left wanting again, beautiful. I won't let it happen," he breathes out, his lips moving against yours before they swallow you whole again.
Your tongues tangle and you kiss him back despite how your lungs burn and your body tenses, pulled taut like the strings of an instrument that he has spent years mastering and he's performing a fucking symphony right now. To a crowd that only consists of you.
"You deserve to be pleasured. Treasured. Fucking revered," he growls through grit teeth, picking up the pace with his strokes as his hands works into your hair, cradling you with care like the prize he obviously thinks that you are.
"Katsuki," you gasp, a frantic energy swelling inside of you as the song he's crafting swells to a triumphant crescendo. "I-I'm gonna cum."
"Yes you are. You're going to cum all over my fucking cock. Like you should've been doing all this time. You are mine now. No one elses," he pants, sweat dripping from his face onto your breasts to glide down your torso. "I finally have you and I'm not letting you go. I've got you, gorgeous. Cum for me."
You hear his words, but they're drowned out by the sound of someone screaming. Of you, screaming. Howling with unrestrained need as the dam bursts and you break for him, gushing around his thick cock as it keeps on plunging in and out, nearly driving you mad.
"Katsuki!" You cry, literally, as tears prick your eyes, a warm wetness sliding over your cheeks when your eyes squeeze shut and you cling tighter to him, digging your nails into the fibers of his muscles.
"Fuck," he groans, a guttural noise echoing around your living room as his hot seed spills from him and into you, making the slick mess between your thighs a practical crime sense of passion and pure need.
His hips keep moving, drawing out the sinful noises the both of you trade as your respective highs peak and gradually begin to fade away, leaving you a weak, shaking mess beneath him.
"I love you," he confesses with the last of the oxygen in his lungs, his nose nuzzling against the crook of you neck as he lays his body on top of yours.
It's all encompassing. His presence. His words. His devotion. It feels like a safety blanket, bundling you up in all the things that you were searching for all along when it was right here in front of you the whole time.
"I love you too, Katsuki," you whisper the words you'd left unspoken for far too long against his temple.
He smiles against your skin. He's wrung dry after offering everything up to you, but your words renew him, giving him the strength to push up and ghost his fingertips along your cheek as his crimson eyes bore into your own.
"You will never want again. I'll take care of you from now on," he promises, catching your chin between his thumb and forefinger as he draws you in to another kiss.
This one is slow, sweet, and tender. It's a vow that he will never break.
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obsessedelusional · 3 months
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the prettiest girl in the room (smut)
paring ↬ Eddie Munson x fem!reader
summary ↬ You shared a secret relationship with Eddie, if that’s what you could even consider it. You wished for more but never could bring yourself to tell Eddie this. What happens when your at a party and he gets dared to kiss the prettiest girl in the room?
word count ↬ almost 3k
a/n: felt inspired to write for my pookie eddie munson again.. I will cherish this man till the day I die luv uuuuuu
reblogs & feedback appreciated ♡
“Truth or dare?”
“Dare.” Eddie responds, sitting back in the couch with his legs spread waiting for his dare. You watch him smiling at his cocky grin towards the random freshman that chose him for truth or dare. Eddie would undoubtedly answer any question or complete any dare thrown his way.
“I dare you to…” The freshman’s voice fades as he looks around the room, trying to think of how to finish his sentence. Eddie only laughs in response, making a joke about finishing his dare sometime today.
Everyone is laughing but you, eyes still on Eddie. Your lips press to your solo cup, taking a sip of the drink someone mixed for you. Your thoughts are else where, the way Eddie is sat reminds you of the night before. When you were sat in his lap, riding his cock. His lips pressed to your chest, leaving marks that are still there. Hidden under your bra.
The freshman takes too long, to the point others begin to suggest dares for Eddie. He still hasn’t looked at you, and maybe that’s entirely your own fault. The two of you have been dating secretly for a few months now. He was the one to offer the secrecy to you, as an attempt to keep your perfect reputation. At first you thought it would be a one time thing so you agreed. Nothing more than a meaningless drunken hook up but after that he had you hooked. You kept coming back for more, until it became a nearly daily occurrence.
The talk of what you two were never to be had. Feelings growing on both sides, and now here you are. At a party tipsier than you should be. You stopped keeping count a while ago. Staring at him with fuck me eyes, too drunk to care who’s watching. You two exchanged a few smiles, brief conversations as if you two were nothing more than acquaintances. Which upset you but at the end of the day it’s your fault for making Eddie feel like he needed to be a secret in the first place.
“I dare you to kiss the prettiest girl in the room.” The freshman finally speaks, louder than everyone in the room. Shutting everyone up as they watch in anticipation of who he will choose.
You too are watching the only difference is your eyes haven’t left Eddie all night. His eyes scan the room, playfully looking at all the different girls. Finally his eyes land on yours, only stopping for a moment before moving on. Your heart is broken, begging for you to leave the room. In one swift moment he stands up and walks across the room, away from you. Of all the people he could kiss right now, he chooses the worst possible choice. His ex.
Can’t bring your self to watch, looking down at your cup. Your eyes finally leaving the man you’ve been secretly dating for months now. As people begin to cheer and laugh at the kiss shared between ex lovers. Eddie pulls away, viewers chanting for more.
“Nah I did my dare, I’m done. Who’s next?” He chuckles as he plops down onto the couch where he was previously sitting.
The game continues on like you didn’t just witness the man you’ve grown to care for, maybe even love kiss his ex. You’re a mixture of anger and sadness but self aware enough to know that this is your own doing. It’s all too much so without announcing your departure, you stand up and walk through the crowded room. You finish off your drink, throw away the evidence and make an attempt to leave the party.
Realizing that you’re entirely fucked, no way to leave. Your home too far to walk, your ride somewhere in the party with absolutely no intention of leaving any time soon. Annoyed because you only came with your friend because you knew Eddie would be here, hoping that you showing up would have ended differently.
A frustrated sigh leaves your mouth as you head outside anyways. Deciding to take a moment to breathe before heading back into the party. Thanking whoever’s listening when you walk out side to an empty porch. Sitting down on the steps, looking out at the silent road filled with unfamiliar houses. A few cars drive by as time passes.
You sit there staring and thinking about how you ended up here. Alone but having a secret relationship, with a man you’ve grown to love. Not even entirely sure if his feelings are mutual. You’ve been spending so much time with him. Most if not all instances leading to sex. Even when you two aren’t fucking, there’s a connection. You’ve spent more time at his trailer than your own home in that last month. He makes you so happy, quickly become the person you run to when you need anything. Doing everything a relationship entails without labeling it.
You’re broken out of your thoughts by the sound of the front door opening and that oh so familiar scent of cigarettes, weed and his cheap cologne you’ve grown to love. Your eyes stay down, looking at your fingers that fiddle with anxiety as he sits next to you.
“I was looking for you.” He speaks, facing you.
“I just needed some air.” You whisper, avoiding eye contact but Eddie knows better. Knows that you’re upset at the kiss and too stubborn to admit that.
“Why are you crying?” He asks, touching your chin and tugging at your face to look at him. You didn’t even realize you were crying, so you wipe away the tears. As a sad attempt to mask your pain. Mentally noting that you had too much to drink as you plaster a fake smile on your lips.
“I don’t know. It’s stupid. It’s probably cause I’m so drunk.” You force a laugh, wiping away at the remaining tears. Eddie doesn’t laugh and obviously doesn’t buy your excuse.
“Is this because I kissed her and not you?” He questions, and your smile fades as you nod your head in response.
“I didn’t want to kiss her. I just about puked as I did it. Was so close to blowing chunks all over her.” He admits, letting him self laugh at the thought causing you to feel a little better.
“I wanted to kiss you, only you. I just wasn’t sure if you would have been okay with that.. considering we’re just kinda hooking up or whatever this is. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable with such a public display of affection.” He further explains, all anger you had dissipating as quickly as it came.
“I wouldn’t have been uncomfortable.” You respond.
“Also was afraid once I started, I wouldn’t be able to stop. I’ve been watching you all night, staring at me with those eyes. Like you want me to drag you upstairs to an empty room and fuck you. Been walking around with a hard on all night, waiting till we can be alone.” He lets out a sheepish laugh, adjusting him self as your eyes are wide. You’ve been with a few partners before, none of which had such a dirty mouth as Eddie. Constantly out doing himself on the naughty words that leave his mouth.
“I was not staring at you like that.” You lie, grinning playfully swatting his shoulder. His laugh only grows, throwing his arm around you. You rest your tired drunken head, into his embrace.
“You’re a shit liar. Tell me what you want.”
“You. I don’t want to this.. us to be a secret anymore.” You admit, looking up at him while his arm is still stretched over your shoulder.
“Yeah?” He asks as he looks down on you.
“Yeah. I want to be the prettiest girl in the room.” You say with no filter. Admitting your drunken insecurities outloud, cringing as soon as it leaves your mouth.
“You are always the prettiest girl in any room. Only now you’ll be my prettiest girl, okay?” He says pressing a simple sweet kiss to your forehead. You nod in response, the biggest grin plastered on your face as if you weren’t sobbing moments ago.
“I think I need to fuck you so good that you forget about that kiss.” He whispers, his lips only a few inches away from yours.
“I think so too.” You say, before closing the distance. Pressing your lips to his, kissing him tenderly. His lips move with yours, as your hands find the back of his neck pulling him closer. Without thinking about it you slowly lower the two of you until he’s on top of you. Smiling and lettting out a giggle into the kiss as your back hits the cold wet wood of the porch.
“What’s so funny?” He pulls away, just enough to break the kiss.
“The way I was about ready to let you have your way with me outside on this porch. Can we go somewhere else?” You ask, looking up at him while he’s staring at your lips.
He rolls his eyes, getting up off you and standing up. Eddie reaches his hand out to which you take letting him help you up. He leads you back into the house, through the crowd of people. You’re too busy watching the man you’re with to notice the stares. Your man.
He leads you up some stairs, pushing through several people waiting for the restroom to a dark empty bedroom. He pushes you inside, following closely behind. While you take a few steps in he locks the door. When you turn to face him he’s already standing near you, looking down on you.
“How’d I get so lucky?” Eddie says as pulls you closer, his arms find their way to under your thighs. Picking you up in one swift motion.
“So fucking beautiful and all mine.” He gently sets you on the bed, never letting go. He’s on top of you, looking at you with so much more than just lust.
“All yours.” You respond, your hands already working on taking his shirt off.
“So eager.” He laughs, pulling it off the rest of the way.
You watch in anticipation as he undresses himself. Once he’s full naked and ready, he’s tugging at your pants. You lift your hips to help him as he slips them off. After a few moments you’re both naked and he’s dropping to his knees. His arms under your legs pulling you closer to the edge of the bed. His face a few inches away from your glistening cunt.
“I love the way you’re always so ready for me. Always so wet.” He murmurs, kissing your inner thigh.
Without hesitation his mouth dips into your folds, finding your most sensitive spot. Kissing it lightly before applying more pressure. Your hand find his hair, your hips tighten as your mouth lets sweet moans leave it. Letting him know he’s doing a good job. His tongue plays with your clit, as his finger slips into your hole. A loud moan leaves your mouth at the new sensation.
He continues, his motivation is the sinful sounds that come from your lips. He hears you say more somewhere in the mix of moans and curse words. So he adds another finger, pumping in and out of you at a steady pace. His mouth still tactfully working on your bud. He knows exactly what he’s doing and how to get you to your climax. The squeezing of your walls, lets him know you are close.
“Don’t stop.” You mutter pulling on his hair, as an attempt to pull him closer. Your hips moving with his face, nearly riding it in an attempt to finish. Eddie moves faster, just enough to cause you to come undone. Releasing all over his fingers. He slows his movements until they come to a halt as he pulls away.
“You always taste so good. Do you wanna taste?” He ask as he stands up, his two fingers finding their way to your mouth.You nod yes in response, opening your mouth enough so he can set them on your tongue. You taste yourself while never breaking eye contact even when he pulls them from your mouth.
“Fuck you’re such a good girl.” Eddie groans, pulling you back to the edge of the bed.
He raises one of your legs with one hand, the other hand aligning his cock to your hole. As he slowly, inch by inch fills you up he’s grabbing your other leg. Both of them in the air and supported by Eddie as he bottoms out inside of you. You whimper at the stretch and the feeling of being full. His hips start to move, slow motions as he fucks you. Painfully slow, you need more.
It’s like he can read your minds because before you can ask, he’s pounding into you at a brutal pace. You’re a moaning mess under him, your legs being pushed wider as he fucks you harder. The only sounds is your moans, his grunting and the sound of skin slapping. Your pussy is so wet it’s loud as he goes in and out of you. The muffled sounds of the party down stairs is barley heard theough the door. Everyone upstairs can most certainly hear but in the moment you couldn’t care less.
“Fuck, you take me so good. It’s like your pussy was made for my cock.” He stammers as he attempts to talk while sinking in and out of your wet, warm core.
He continues to speak his mind, letting all his thoughts flow out without a filter. His movements never stop, desperate to please you and please himself in the process. He’s pushing you deeper into the bed with every single thrust. Your hands find their way to his back, as he pressed himself closer to you. Kissing you hungrily as his hips continue to roll into you. Your hands scratch into his back, leaving marks in their tracks. He groans as a response, into your lips as you two kiss.
You start to feel that familiar coiling tension. Your fluttering walls let Eddie know that you’re coming close to your climax. He continues the same pace, pulling his face away from yours so he can watch you come undone. His favorite thing to witness and be the cause of. Your back arches as the tensions finally snaps. Your walks tighten as you come all over his cock.
Which is enough to push him over the edge, he pulls himself out leaving you empty. Without missing a beat he grips his dick, pumping it roughly. Allowing himself to finish on your stomach. When he’s done, he’s pressing a sweet breathy kiss to your lips before stumbling around in the dark to find something to clean up the mess he made.You lay there for a moment before feeling him wipe you clean. When he’s sure as he can be that he got it all, he throws it across the room.
“Eddie you can’t just..” Your own words cut off as you start to wonder whose room you two just fucked in.
“Whose room is this?” You question as he helps you get dressed again. As he pulls your shirt down over your head, he’s laughing.
“Jason Carvers.” He speaks, you look around for the first time and it’s most definitely a basketball players room.
“You didn’t.. we didn’t.” You reply, suddenly in a hurry to get dressed and back to the party. Moving his hands off you so he can get himself dressed.
“We did.” He grins, pulling his jeans on.
“Eddie..” You groan his name out but it doesn’t last long. His smile bringing you to smile.
Once you’re both dressed, he’s pressing another kiss to your lips. He grabs your hand and gently leads you out of the bedroom, praying that no one is sober enough to remember Eddie and you going into Jason’s room. Only to met with several pairs of eyes, not so silently watching and judging you. Eddie doesn’t seem to care, so you pretend to not notice. Following him back downstairs, to the couch where he was sat early.
“Eddie.. I want to go to yours. Can we leave?” You say stopping him before he can take a seat.
“Give me like thirty minutes to sober up. I’m not nearly as intoxicated as you are…” He teases.
“But I did drink a little bit. We can leave soon, okay?” He says as he sits down, pulling you into his lap. You have the cheesiest smile plastered on your lips. He’s acting as if it’s just another day, like this is a totally normal occurrence between the two of you. Like everyone in this room didn’t just watch him kiss his ex as a dare.
“Okay.” You nod, that smile still shining.
“You’re so cute and so drunk.” He whispers softly, his lips inches away from yours.
“And?” You question.
“And you’re so mine.” He says matter of factly.
“And?” You question again, eyes brows raised. Knowing what your tipsy self wants to hear. As you smile waiting, he looks lost but you see it click in his eyes before he rolls them.
“And you’re the prettiest girl in the room.” He lets out a soft chuckle before kissing you unapologetically. You kiss him back, drunkenly unaware of the eyes on you two and the gossip beginning to spread around the two of you. Nothing could ruin this moment for you.
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gyudons · 4 months
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During the last practice in Pittsburgh before the holiday break, Sidney Crosby brought cookies to the rink along with, of course, some banana bread – “his mom’s famous recipe,” Marcus Pettersson said with a grin. “He’s got a little addiction,” Kris Letang added.
Crosby bakes for the group periodically throughout the season, one of many thoughtful gestures the Penguins captain makes for his teammates – impressive from anyone, much less someone of his stature. During this season of giving, Pettersson and Rickard Rakell had been marveling at the captain’s generous nature that very day.
“Me and Raks were actually just joking around about how good he is with giving gifts,” Pettersson said. “I don't know if he has a thought behind it about when he retires, that he is expecting a lot of gifts back from everybody (laughs). But I don't think so. I think he’s just a great guy.”
Crosby goes above and beyond to mark occasions for the people around him, whether it’s a holiday, a career achievement, or simply a memorable experience. His capacity to do all of that, in addition to continuing to be an elite talent at age 36 and an unparalleled leader, is remarkable.
Evgeni Malkin, Crosby’s fellow franchise center and teammate for nearly two decades, said, “It’s almost like he’s the perfect player, perfect friend. Some guys win just one Stanley Cup, they think they’re like a god, you know? But Sid, never. You see everybody wants to play here, first of all, it’s because of Sid.”
Letang joked that he wasn’t going to use the word perfect, “because there’s nothing perfect,” he laughed. “But he always makes sure everybody is taken care of, and they’re having a good time. He loves to get to know people. For me, what he did for my dad last year… the banana bread stuff… it’s just a way of looking at things, you never want to leave some people behind. There’s not a specific gesture that comes to mind, because it’s such a daily thing for him.”
Tyson Barrie, was touched by something the captain did for his agent, Bayne Pettinger, who had previously worked for Team Canada. Pettinger had been sitting with Crosby at another one of those BioSteel camps, which was in Montreal. At the time, Pettinger had recently come out as gay and mentioned in passing to Crosby how he thought the Pride warmup jerseys were so cool.
“Bayner FaceTimed me a couple months later, almost in tears,” Barrie said. “The concierge at his condo called him and was like hey, there’s a big package here for you, can you come down and grab it? Turns out Sid had gotten a Pride jersey framed for Bayner. He wrote, ‘Bayner, proud of you.’ That’s the kind of guy he is. You'll never hear about any of this stuff. He's just always doing stuff under the radar. He’s just a special guy.”
merry christmas! here’s a sweet little story about canadian hockey star sidney crosby
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gojonanami · 3 months
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❝ 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐈𝐅 𝐈 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐄 ? ❞
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❝ ALL THESE PEOPLE THINK LOVE'S FOR SHOW, BUT I WOULD DIE FOR YOU IN SECRET ! ❞
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✧ pairing: suguru geto x sorcerer! reader
✧ summary: suguru's birthday spent with you is like a dream -- the perfect day spent in bliss, but what happens when the dream has to come to an end?
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, jjk compliant au (reader is a sorcerer), domesticity, cuddling, oral (m +f), handjob (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), improper massage technique, some angst (discussion of star vessel / premature death arc / geto's defection),
✧ wc: 3,015
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The first thing Suguru felt were fingertips brushing against his cheek.
“Morning, birthday boy,” you murmured, and his almost violet eyes fluttered still half within the grasp of the sandman, and it didn’t help you looked as if you were the thing of dreams — your body clad only in his white button down, hair askew from your late night with him, and eyes filled with utter love and devotion, “finally waking up? Because I have a whole day planned for you,” 
His lips curl despite the sleep that weighed on his eyelids, a hum leaving his lips, as his fingers find you, even with his eyes closed — just as he always could, his fingers curling around your wrist, as he expertly tugged you and wrapped his arms around you. You were caged in around his limbs, pressed to his chest with barely any space to move, you’d be scared, if wasn’t exactly where you wanted to be. 
You sigh, burying your face in his chest, lips brushing the skin of his bare chest, “Sugu, come on, we can’t laze all day, I have a nice breakfast planned, and we’re having lunch with Satoru, Shoko, and Nanami later, and I have a million other nice things planned — none of which we can do if you don’t get out of bed,” 
“But you forgot something,” it’s his turn to sigh, as he shifts his face to rest against your neck, nose nearly tickling the skin there, as his lips press butterfly kisses, dotted like constellations along your neck and collarbone — as if he find the all the universe had to offer between the space of your neck and shoulder, “my favorite thing to do is right here,” 
You roll your eyes at the innuendo, a knowing smirk on his lips, one you didn’t need to see to know it was there — it was done against your neck after all, “If I recall, we did plenty of your favorite thing last night, and it’s the reason you’re probably so tired right now,” 
His fingers begin to toy with the buttons of his shirt that you’d stolen, “Well, they say you can never have too much of a good thing, after all,” 
“Oh, is that so?” and his lips find yours again to swallow your next retort, his lips gliding against yours and he can taste the coffee you had just had, the bitter taste mixed with your sweet tongue, that flicked not so sweetly against the seam of his lips. 
“You said I could have anything I want today,” he murmurs, beginning to undo the buttons one by one, as he revealed your body to his eyes — a twitch in his boxers as he realized you wore not a single thing underneath, “well right, all I want is you, for breakfast,” 
Your cheeks burn, thighs pressed together, his words sending a rush of heat down to your still aching cunt, “Sugu—” but his lips find yours again, his fingers busy with teasing your nipples — rolling both between his pointer finger and thumb, “fuck, baby—” 
“Gotta enjoy my meal baby,” his lips burn a trail of kisses down your body, his lips curling around your tit, his teeth grazing and teasing one and then the other, drawing a whimper from your lips, as he pulls his mouth away with a pop, “it’s the most important meal, and I have to start my birthday right, don’t I?” 
And his hands drag down your sides, large calloused fingers squeezing your hips, as he lifts your legs to hook around his shoulders, his dark gaze devouring the sight of your pretty cunt glistening with your slick, before his mouth and tongue would. 
His lips warm your outer lips, as his fingers tease your puffy little clit, pinching it, “Still swollen from last night,” his lips curl as you yelp in surprise, with a glare shot his way, that rolls into the back of your head as he buries his face in your sweet pussy. His nose grinds against your clit deliciously, as his tongue collects the pre already drenching you, humming at the taste — how was it that you were truly his favorite thing he tasted? You weren’t exactly sweet down there, but you were the only dessert he wanted (he’d leave the actual sugar to Satoru), “seems like you wanted this too by the way you’re leaking down here, my shirt and sheet is even wet,” he teases, making you cover your face in embarrassment, “don’t worry, sweetheart,” he smiles up at you with his slick covered lips and dripping chin, “I’ll clean you up.” 
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“You don’t have to do this for me,” Suguru says, but you only shake your head, meeting his gaze in the mirror, with a roll of your eyes. 
“I want to do this for you,” as your fingers continue to comb his dark locks, finger twirling one strand between his fingers, “plus this is more for me than you, you never let me play with your hair at Jujutsu Tech,” you pouted, and he snorts. 
“First, you said ‘play,’ not do, and second, do you forget the first and only time I let you, Shoko, and Satoru do my hair?” and you stifle a laugh, badly disguised as a cough, as you lips part to answer, “don’t lie, I know you guys use it as your group chat photo,” 
“I only wanted to put clips and a scrunchie in your hair — dying your hair was all Satoru—” and his sharp look cuts you off, as you relent, before running your fingers through his hair, and easing another knot from his locks, “well isn’t this nice though?” and he nods, after your lips graze the edge of his hairline, “we’re almost done and you can tie your hair up after,” you hum. 
“Do you like my long hair?” and he meets your curious gaze in your reflection, “I mean, i decided to grow it out after we graduated, but I was wondering if you ever thought I should cut it,” 
You purse your lips, scrutinizing him in contemplation, “I love your hair either way, but you were always so meticulous about cutting it the same length, so why did you decide to grow it out?” His eyes fall to his lap, and he swallows, “you don’t have to—” you say softly, and his fingers find yours, squeezing. 
“I want to,” he echoes, as he bites his lip, “I heard when I was a kid that hair holds memories, and ever since Amanai and Haibara…I don’t want to ever forget them,” and he toys with a strand between his fingers, “And by keeping my hair longer, it feels like I can hold onto that, onto them,” he says softly, and you nod, “I know it’s not logical—”
“Not everything has to be logical, not everything has to have a reason,” you murmur, pressing your lips to his cheek, wrapping your arms around his neck, “sometimes things can just be a thing you do — but either way, if you cut your hair or keep it long, I don’t think you’ll ever forget those two, and neither would they — ever,” and he turns to meet your lips in a slow kiss, your fingers ghosting his cheek, before you finally part, “come on, get dressed, we’re going to be late.” 
~~~~
“You told me he liked strawberry sponge and cream cake,” you punched Satoru in the shoulder, who takes it if only to appease you, with a pout, “you said that’s what he wanted this year, you blue eyed freak,” 
“It is! How was I supposed to know he’d lie to me?” 
“You know him for how many years and you can’t tell it was a lie?” 
“You’re his partner, you don’t know what cake he likes—” 
Suguru rubs his forehead, as you and Satoru continue to bicker, as he pulls a lighter out, and offers to light Shoko’s cigarette, as she leans on the windowsill of one of the open windows, “Those two never grow up do they?” and Suguru snorted, leaning against the wall next to her, facing the spectacle you and Satoru were making,  “why did you say strawberry cake?” 
“Because it’s both of their favorites,” his eyes slide to those two as Satoru used his infinity only to infuriate you, “I always had thought those two would have made a better match,” 
He feels Shoko’s eyes slide to him, “She loves you, not Satoru,” and his eyes find yours, just as they always did, and you smile the one smile he always hoped would be reserved for only him. 
“I know.” 
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“Did we have to stay that long?” Suguru sighs, pulling off his jacket, “who slipped alcohol into Satoru’s plastic cup anyway?” and your pause gives it away, as he glances at you, pulling off your shoes, “sweetheart, you know he can���t handle his alcohol,” 
“Well someone should’ve handled their job right then,” and he laughs, as he walks over to wrap his arms around you, as you grumble, “you ask Mr. Six Eyes to do something — and he can’t even see through a lie, so are we really buying that he actually has them—” 
And his lips find yours again, his hands sliding down to your hips to pull you closer, “I believe you owe me a present still,” he kisses down your neck, and he feels you melt into his touch, your fingers splaying on his shoulders, “and I know exactly what I want,” 
“Well, I may have gotten you something a little different,” your lips curl. 
“A massage?” he raises an eyebrow, as you strip him down to his boxers on the bed, a few towels underneath him as you warmed the massage oil with your hands. He heard the squish and squelch of your fingers, and he felt his dick twitch, the noise sounding like something else. 
“You don’t relax enough, this way, I can help you relax a little,” you hum, as you stand beside him, “can I start?” and he bites his lip, but nods. 
“Go ahead, princess,” and you do — Suguru didn’t realize how many knots he had in his back, the muscles stiff and immovable at first, until you begin to work away at the bundles of stress he had accumulated. A moan slips from his lips as he feels the stress ebb away, a blush burning up his cheeks, “Sorry,” 
“No complaints here, baby,” you giggle. God, he was so fucking hot like this. His muscles were glistening with the oil, each muscle becoming more relaxed under your touch, the little grunts and groans that left his lips left another knot, but this one was in your cunt.
Suguru couldn’t help let these moans escape his lips, you were making him feel so good, but he wasn’t sure he would be able to move after this, his body far too limp. Or so he thought. Your hands were traveling lower and lower, until they brushed against the waistband of his boxers, and he shivers, “Sweetheart,” 
“What? You carry stress here too, and as your masseuse, I have to do a good job right?” you hum, “as long as my client permits me,” 
And he bites his lip, “I’ll permit anything from you, baby,” 
You don’t need any more words, as your fingers pull at the boxers, tugging the fabric down to reveal his ass, your fingers first ghosting over the flesh teasingly, before beginning to massage it. 
Fuck, now he was fully hard, his dick rubbing against the mattress — thank god you put down towels — as you worked out the knots in his gluteus muscle, but he didn’t know if you were helping him relax or not, because he never had felt more stiff. And it doesn’t escape your notice. 
You hum, “Maybe we need a different method,” your finger traces up and down your spine, “would my client mind turning over for me?” 
“Princess—” 
“Just one more thing to help you relax,” and he relents, turning over, to reveal the tent in his boxers, still drawn over his front, and your eyes fall to his cock, “and I see where all the stress has gone,” you tsk, as you climb onto the bed, straddling his waist, drawing a gasp from his lips, “poor baby,  all worked up still?” Your fingers traces his clothed head, a large wet patch that assuredly wasn’t massage oil, “I think I can relax you.” 
He’s biting his lip as he watches you tug down his boxers, fabric dragging against his erection as you do, slapping against his stomach, “Sweetheart—“ 
“Just let me do this for you, baby,” you murmur as you clean your hands with a rag and instead smear the beads of precum along his length, drawing a groan from his lips, “so sensitive for me, Sugu, been wanting me since morning haven’t you?” You hum, as you begin to work his cock with your hand, lips leaning down to press a kiss to his weeping tip, “it’s only fair if I get to taste you too — after all, I may have been your breakfast, but you’re my dessert,” 
And your lips wrap around his length, tracing his slit with the tip of your tongue, and tasting his salty precum. He groans, the noise burning a trail to your cunt, “s’good for me,” you murmured against him, as you took as much of him as you could, taking the rest in your hands.
His fingers weave into your hair, hips lightly bucking into your mouth, the tip of his cock brushing against your throat, and you manage to suppress your gag reflex, “shit, sorry—“ but you cut off his apology by licking a thick stripe up one of his veins, before hollowing out your cheeks and sucking, “fuck, Princess, I’m close—I—“ and your fingers toy with his balls and your mouth redoubles his efforts, until he’s cumming down your throat with your name on his lips, his thick load painting your mouth and throat, as you swallow it eagerly. 
He flutter open, only to watch you pull your swollen lips from his length, strings of spit and cum still connecting you to his cock, before you wipe it away, “don’t worry baby,” you lean down to lick the beads of cum dripping from his tip, his hips jerking, “I’ll clean you up,” 
And after you get him all cleaned up, the two of you are in bed again, tucked up next to each other — Suguru was completely boneless, as you climb into bed beside him, “you okay baby?” 
He nods, smile on his lips, “More than okay after that,” he murmurs, lips finding yours, and then he pulls away with a pause, “but I didn’t get you off, baby,” and his forehead furrows as you chuckle. 
“Worry about that tomorrow, baby. I think you need some sleep now,” you crawl into his arms, your head pressed against his chest, you were so warm pressed against him, “got all I need right here,” you murmur, before you ask, “did you have a good birthday?” 
“I always do,” his fingers graze your cheek, as his eyes flutter shut, “always when I’m with you, Princess,” 
The first thing he feels, again, are soft fingers against his cheek, his eyes heavy with sleep, flutter open, as his brain catches with his body. 
“Master Geto? Master Geto?” His eyes finally flutter open to find Nanako and Mimiko at his bedside. 
He rubs at his eyes, as he stares at a ceiling for a moment, as he lets the haunting feel of your body slip from him — for a moment, he had let himself believe it was real — that you were with him, that he was still with you — all of you. 
“Happy Birthday, Master Geto,” they both intone together, and his gaze slides back to find the girls’ holding a birthday cake box. He blinks a moment, before he realizes. 
“Thank you both,” he sigh, sitting up, and even though he knows, he asks the question anyway, “it was left at the doorstep of the compound?” 
“Yes, the same one, the one that’s always left for you,” Mimiko answers as Nanako hands him the box, and he slips off the twine and opens the box to reveal a strawberry and cream sponge cake, “I didn’t know Master Geto even liked strawberry cake,” 
And he chuckles, as he stares at the cske, the residuals unbidden and clear as day who had left it — who had always left it, “I don’t but it was the favorite of two people very important to me before — you know I don’t care for sweets,” 
“I thought you didn’t care for sweets made by monkeys,” Nanako said, typing on her phone, before she snaps a picture or two of the cake, “why is this an exception?” 
“Because one of those special people baked it, and she’s a sorcerer,” and you always had — every year without fail. He didn’t even know how you had found him — he didn’t tend to stay in one place for too long, but you always did. 
As he lifts the cske out and hands it to the girls, “go slice it up and have a piece,” he smiles, “I’ll take care of the box,” and they nod, as Mimiko takes the cake while Nanako walks out staring at her phone still. 
It wasn’t the cake that he found special, but the card that was hidden at the bottom. It was nothing special — always a random card picked out with a birthday message printed on the outside — but no, what was special was the note you wrote. 
My favorite treat for my favorite birthday boy — I hope you have a good birthday — with your name signed below. 
His fingers twirled a strand of his hair, still far too long, as he traced your name with his finger. He hadn’t had a really good birthday — not without you. 
But, he opened the drawer of his bedside table, placing the card inside with the others, at least he could dream of one. 
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✧ a/n: i've been hopping between my sukuna fic and prof geto 3, but i was bouncing back and forth between whether i wanted to write this or not, but i just had to for suguru - man has claimed a sweet spot. thank you to the anon who's idea i put on a spin on and @biancaness, who provided the massage idea :). this is also for @gaylatteart because their birthday is tomorrow, the day after suguru's. thank you bb for being so wonderful and congrats on doing the thing - i'm super proud of you!!
✧ taglist: @foxygemin1, @honeyangelsblog, @biancaness, @rwtard, @strangehuman101, @serendididy, @i-love-the8, @ririthedevil, @linastired, @bsaeshell, @jaceum, @going-to-californiaxx, @dontshuugo, @diogodxlot, @coffeebun17, @slikdolliy, @spider-fan72, @sophistication-as, @get0sfav, @klynne, @hatsunemitskislobotomy, @heijihattorisgf, @teatreeoilll, @el172736738, @nem0philistx, @strawmariee, @mysuperrainbow
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sanemisstalker · 9 months
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N/SFW. Minors DNI
CW: GN reader / Men's Mental Health IG ???
KNY characters that I think are more prone to cumming in their pants / NSFW
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Giyu
-He's inexperienced.
-I admire the almost fandom consensus of him being either resident, sexy, black haired, quiet anime boy, and/or 'nobody likes this friendless loser, he definitely has a tumblr'
-Any attention, platonic or not, from someone he's attracted to is enough to make Giyu get an apparent boner. He's prone to them when the people he admires say genuinely nice things to him.
-He doesn't get to hear nice things a lot, nor does he take compliments easily, so when he believes them, his body can't help but believe them too.
-He'd rather it not be that way, but due to his floundering mental health, and general isolation, Giyu isn't jerking off very often, nor is he able to get it up when he wants to, so he just goes... months without thinking about it sometimes.
-Could definitely cum from kissing too hard. Not just kissing, but particularly the rough treatment.
-Giyu must be incredibly touch starved, I imagine. I can't fiction the last time he's hugged someone. That scene where he's holding Shinobu, perhaps?
-So when he's getting so much attention, especially so much positive, romantic attention, even if it's a little rough, I'm sure his dick would be at full mast.
-he doesn't think he's predisposed to masochism or anything. He'd hope he wasn't, but it feels better when he's kissing, and maybe his hair is being pulled on, just a little.
-he'd be very embarassed. He wouldn't cry or anything, but I think he'd get up and leave the room. He knows you knew what happened, he didn't moan, but he flinched because the build up was so immediate, and he just couldn't stop.
-How pathetic. He can't show his face infront of you ever again. All he does is ruin good things. You're definitely disgusted by him.
-Even if he didn't realize how pretty his face looked during his orgasm.
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Gyutaro
-Everyday I fight the gyutaro incel allegations, and everyday I fail.
-Gyutaro is socially inept, to put it blatantly. He spends an incredible amount of time locked away in his sister, and rarely chooses to come out unless eating for the two, or-
-if he needs to jerk off. A rarity, nowadays. Looking the way he looks can do a real number on one's ability to self-pleasure. He also isn't able to seek out assistance from any brothels- He still looks the way he looks. He's no Muzan- blessed with the ability to change his appearance at will.
-So when you're on top of Gyutaro, and he feels the curve of your ass in his palm, and your sex is positioned right on top of his, just barely grazing his clothed cock, as you try and teach him how to kiss (he's doing his best, but he knows he's not good-)
-He cums, and he cums hard. He grips down on your hips, and goes wide eyed, unable to stop the moan that rips its way from his throat... and then quickly moves you off of him.
-He isn't even finished when he moves you, he's shakey armed, and he nearly drops you.
-he's mortified. After all this time, he finally gets someone willing to touch him, and he blows it. He's borderline inconsolable- switching between begging you not to look at him and begging you not to hate him-
-but the noise he made was just so... pathetic.
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Haganezuka
-Men dedicated to their craft don't have time to cum? Silly of you to assume he's ever even seen another person naked. That would imply he looked away from a sword for long enough to register it.
-On a completely serious note (as serious as I can be writing this), It'd be quite awkward interacting with Haganezuka sexually. His mind has been so consumed by perfection that, even if he wasn't dedicated to the blade, he's almost prevented himself from ever being able to cum in a social setting.
-He's developed a phobia of new situations he can't control. Especially sexual ones. Swords are easy and gratifying. Why would he ever need to cum when he can just make a sword and have it be respected and revered. Wouldn't that be nice-
-So when you started rubbing him over his pants, he was, admittedly, panicking. It's not like he went nearly 4 decades without using his dick... He'd just... gone 2 and a half decades without using his dick. Nowhere near the same.
-You'd barely even touched it, barely even pressed your lips to his neck, and Haganezuka was panting.
-The fear coursing through his veins, and the attention his forgotten cock was receiving- He grew more unsightly by the second...
-and then you pressed a particularly soft kiss to the corner of his lips and he was done for. That was his first kiss-
-Though shocked, you'd pump Haganezuka through his orgasm. It'd be enough to go through his pants, and spill over your hand.
-He'd grip your robes, and will you closer to him. His heels would slam into the floorboard, and he'd try to bury his face in your neck, attempting to muffle the groan he'd loose, only to fail tremendously.
-He'd be huffy after. Mad at himself and disguising it as being mad at you.
-'Well, maybe you shouldn't touch me anymore, if you found it so gross! Did you consider that? Just not touching me- ever?'
-but you saw how sad he looked when you said you'd do whatever he wanted. What a simple man.
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hannieehaee · 1 month
Note
Member walking into svt member x reader having sex
another member walking in on member and their gf
18+ / mdi
content: established relationship, being caught having sex, smut, second hand embarrassment, mentions of a crush in some of these, afab reader, penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 2156
a/n: idk if these even make sense i wrote them all at completely different times and i have no idea if i even repeated members oops also not proofread </3
masterlist
seungcheol -
knowing about seokmin's crush on you, seungcheol couldn't help but feel genuine annoyance as, out of all people, seokmin happened to walk in on seungcheol eating you out, giving him the perfect view of your unfiltered nude body along with the blissed out look on your face. what made things worse was that it had taken the both of you a good thirty seconds to notice the door had been opened by a gaping lee chan who just seemed unable to close his mouth nor move a single bone in his body.
seungcheol would have to take matters into his own hands and yell at the boy to get the hell out, grumbling at knowing that seokmin's crush would likely just intensify after this. he'd have to take out these frustrations on you, making sure you were as loud as possible in order to at least assert some dominance.
jeonghan -
he's a fucking freak, he'd probably like it. you were facing away from the door, riding him as you threw your head back and had your eyes closed shut. he'd be able to see behind you, spotting minghao as soon as he accidentally walked in on you. he'd be shocked for a total of two seconds before smirking at minghao and inciting you into being louder for him (though without giving you any indication that a third person had appeared).
surprisingly to jeonghan, minghao wouldnt leave. he'd stay frozen in place staring at your form and hearing the lewd sounds of skin slapping and the pretty whines both you and jeonghan were letting out. it would take him a bit to slap himself out of it, suddenly leaving in a rush and shutting the door closed without realizing, thus finally alerting you. eventually jeonghan would let you in on what happened and continue to tease minghao about it for ever and ever.
joshua -
joshua was conflicted. one one hand, he felt mortified at vernon walking in on him ramming his hips against your ass in a desperation you'd only ever really see in a wild animal (specially since you were also in a pretty compromising position), but on the other hand, he felt kinda proud at drawing such an expressive reaction out of his usually stoic friend.
vernon was nearly impossible to scare, and almost even more impossible to embarrass. and the sight of you and joshua fornicating had just caused both at the same time. however, any semblance of pride left joshua as soon as he detected even the smallest trace of lust in vernon's eyes as his eyes remained on your form. what the hell was he even still doing here? after cursing him out with some very diverse language, vernon finally left with a hurried apology, leaving joshua with the task of putting you in the mood again after such a weird interaction.
jun -
even after all these years, jun had not yet grown used to the lack of privacy that came along with having twelve men around him at all times. he had learned to manage it, but there were instances in which he simply needed his very well deserved privacy. such as in his intimate moments with you. unfortunately, his brothers had grown too used to lack of privacy among each other, meaning that walking in on you was only a matter of time. and it had to be seungcheol of all people.
being the polite boy he is, jun was unable to even yell at the older man when he walked in and remained frozen without even thinking of making an immediate exit. he'd splutter a bit, barely being able to cover you up with a nearby blanket before coming to his senses and realizing it was completely acceptable for him to yell at his leader for freezing up at such an uncomfortable moment for you. upon also snapping out of his trance, seungcheol would apologize and leave, though the damage had been done. jun would now have to go to sleep completely blue balled because of his friend.
soonyoung -
sure, he was close with jihoon, but that didn't mean he wanted him to be privy to every intimate detail of his life, specially not what he got up to with you behind closed doors. even though he knew jihoon wasn't a perv by any means, and that him walking in on you had been nothing but an accident, he would still react exasperated in the heat of the moment.
he would immediately notice the new source of light entering the room as he railed you into the mattress. fortunately for him, you had been pinned down under him and your front was facing the door, meaning that all jihoon saw before soonyoung spluttered around for the covers had been him humping at you from above. an embarrassing image to share with a friend, but at least he kept the goods (you) to himself.
wonwoo -
a smirk. small but still fully present. wonwoo could've sworn he saw a smirk of satisfaction on jeonghan's face as he walked in and stopped in his tracks at the sight of you on all fours and wonwoo's hips going crazy against your ass. of course, of all people, jeonghan would find such moment amusing. he knew his friend to be a bit unpredictable in how he reacted to certain things, but wonwoo had not expected him to quite literally stop and stare.
wonwoo, like any reasonable man, had frozen in shock at the intrusion. it had taken him a few moments to actually pull out of you and cover you as much as his own bare body would allow. he also had to take it upon himself to yell at jeonghan to get the hell out. this instance would cause both you and wonwoo to feel awkward around jeonghan for a few days. the older man's smirk would not leave him during those few days, only making you and wonwoo even more sheepish around him.
jihoon -
had it been anyone else, maybe he wouldnt have had a problem, but it had to be mingyu. he already felt some type of way about the way in which mingyu would occasionally flirt with you (he knew his friend had a flirty personality, but still!!), so it did not help to know that mingyu now knew what you looked like in the throes of passion, much less the fact that the man in question stood there watching for a good minute.
in this situation, jihoon had to take whatever means necessary to protect your privacy (though it was already too late) throwing you off him without thinking and throwing a pillow on top of you to cover you as much as a measly pillow would allow. after this, like an idiot, he would grab his boxers and chase after mingyu, completely forgetting that he left you completely confused at what had just happened.
seokmin -
it's not that seokmin was a jealous man. nor had he ever felt insecure in your relationship. however ... having his very handsome friends around his very pretty girlfriend would sometimes leave him feeling a bit ... off. like now. specially now. an instance in which he had been making love to you, passionate in the way he thrust into you and licked into your mouth. up until your mouth left his own to look at the sudden intrusion that had just entered the room. wonwoo. a very shirtless and very wide-shouldered wonwoo.
after some moments of the three of you simply staring at one another in shock, seokmin finally took action and covered you up, disliking the way in which wonwoo's eyes had made their way to your nude body, and specially not liking the concept of you and his friend looking at one another (almost completely) in the nude, no matter if it was merely an accident. he would sulk about this for days, needing reassurance from both you and wonwoo about the unfortunate incident.
mingyu -
why did seungkwan have to be so damn nosy? why couldnt he just take mingyu's half-assed excuse about 'being sick' and let him go back to his hotel room to rest instead of joining the members in impromptu karaoke? maybe if he had just left the situation alone, he wouldn't have had to be chased out of the room by a very naked mingyu for screaming as soon as he saw mingyu folding you in half on his bed.
okay, backtracking a little ... maybe mingyu was the first one to scream. but he wasnt expecting any interruptions during his alone time with you, okay?? he screamed in shock, then seungkwan screamed in shock, then he's pretty sure he heard soonyoung screaming from the front door of the hotel room, which had been enough for mingyu to act on a whim and throw a blanket on top of you, grabbing some boxers and chasing seungkwan (and seemingly soonyoung) back into their rooms all while sporting a boner.
minghao -
why. why did he forget to lock the door again. that was his immediate thought at soonyoung excitedly running past his door without considering that minghao mightve been busy on the other side of it. and he was. as he was currently pistoning into your cunt from behind, having you arching your back for him in a way that gave him a delicious view of your ass. a view that was meant for him only.
hoshi became embarrassed and sheepish almost immediately, realizing that, yet again, his enthusiasm got the best of him and put him in an awkward situation. he'd sheepishly make his way out as he avoided eye contact. minghao would simply sigh and face palm internally, giving you no time to react as he began fucking you again. hoshi would have some trouble making eye contact with either you or minghao for the following week.
seungkwan -
not him. anyone but him. chan? did chan, of all people, have to become privy to the inner workings of your figure? something which was meant to be reserved for seungkwan's eyes only? he'd notice chan's presence immediately, screaming at him to get the hell out as he scrambled to cover you up. in the meantime chan would be frozen in place, with his eyes very clearly zoned in on your tits, causing kwan to grow even more frustrated.
in what felt like an eternity (but was actually under two minutes), chan would finally exit the room and leave a very exasperated seungkwan behind. he'd be too bothered to finish what you guys were doing, now needing you to calm him down from the annoyance he felt at chan, knowing that the boy whom he bantered with every day could now add the image of your nude body to his spank bank.
vernon -
he would be far too lost in the pleasure he felt as you rode him, eyes closed and face buried in your tits as he bit licked absentmindedly. you'd be the one to notice jun's sudden appearance, widening your eyes but making no other indication of shock. jun would react similarly, though his eyes would swim from your face to your tits (or what he could see from them through vernon's head in the way) to the way you ground against his friend.
for some unknown reason to both you and jun, the two of you would maintain eye contact as you started rutting against your boyfriend harder and faster, making him groan and moan against you as he reached his peak. jun would leave when he felt like he couldnt handle any more, now thinking of you in a completely different way. you'd confess what had happened to vernon afterwards (after he inquired as to what made you fuck him so animalistically ..), which would surprise him and weirdly turn him on.
chan -
chan had never expected that joshua's usually confident demeanor would finally crumble at the mere sight of your blissed out appearance as chan knelt between your legs. your entire body was facing the door from which joshua had come in, your breasts were bare, your eyes were crossed, your mouth was agape, your body was contorting itself at the pleasure, your cunt was obstructed by chan's mouth as he desperately sucked and licked at you, moans going in tune with your own. the sight was out of any man's dream.
but it was interrupted very quickly. chan immediately felt a new source of light, making him get up without a second thought and cover you up as much as he could in the heat of the moment (even if it meant exposing himself in the process – you were the priority). chan had never seen joshua so sheepish as he tried to smoothly make his way out of the room. joshua had never seen chan so serious as he cursed at him to get out (nor had he ever seen chan's girlfriend look so enticing ...).
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tarjapearce · 4 months
Text
El Diablo Wears Prada (pt. 2)
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Mafia! Miguel O'Hara x Reader
WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Manhandling, mild degratadion, rough sex, mentions of protected sex, angry and unprotected sex, p in v, use of tracking device, smut, No proofread at all.
Summary: Upon new information revealed, El Diablo tries to pry information out of you.
A/N: Centuries later, here is part 2~ Hope you like :'). Feedback and reblogs much appreciated ❤️
Previous
The ride back at whatever place you were being taken was definitely taking a toll on your throat. He wasn't nice, nor charming as he initially had introduced himself as.
The coldness of his gun reminisced in your temple, his taste was loaded with so many things. Tangy, rich in anger and frustration, sprinkled with a dash of danger and violence. The perfect treat for someone willing to gain his favor.
Not you though. Not when he nearly choked you out with his cock, with the promise of training you into taking it better. You had to be useful for something, and his purpose was still unclear to you.
After you were released from his steely grip, he just chuckled while you scrambled away from his personal space, sitting deeper in the SUV. He was silent, sleepy almost.
Of course he'd be. After that whole workout session you were spent and quite sore. Hips ached in protest every time you decided to shift in your seat, all thanks to months of being untouched by Massimo.
It was unavoidable to not think about him. Had the police arrived? He certainly wasn't fine but it worried that he was left injured. Had he called someone? You didn't know and as tired as you were, your head truly would start steaming the more you thought about everything.
Ride was smooth. A bit too smooth that when you woke up your head rested on the soft part of the seat. Your mouth was ajar, body had relaxed a bit, enough for the soreness to subside.
He was slanted against the window, knuckles holding his sleepy head. Some fine lines above his forehead along some scarce white hairs out of stress. He looked like in his early to mid thirties.
The ring on his middle finger drew all the attention to it. Golden band with a red ruby in it. If you squinted you could see a bit of an inscription 'Acta non Verba'
Deeds, not words.
His personal mantra and what he actually preached. Miguel had been tired of warning Massimo, he was a patient man, but the fool of a husband you had was all the opposite.
You were certain that he hid things, but never in your life had you imagined that it would end up like this.
"Boss?"
The soft and apprehensive voice of Ben awoke him. Bored eyes turned to you to flash a smirk before opening the door. A ten floor building nested before you. Crystal windows, adorned the layout of the structure, not many people crossed this part of town, making it almost deserted. The only signs of some movements werw his agents scattered outside, that immediately turned their attention to him.
"Let's go" He didn't let you finish your thoughts as he pulled you out of the SUV, his grip steely. A wince rasped in your throat. It all took a slip of his hand for you to dart away in the opposite direction.
There was no people to turn to, none to scream for help yet you didn't care, the need of running away just increased tenfolds, even if you were barefoot and naked under his shirt.
"Jesus fucking christ."
In a few strides he caught you. Strong hands pulled you by your hair, yanking a bit too hard to draw some tears from your eyes while you fell on your butt. Hands immediately trying to pry his hold out of your hair, the henchmen outside just threw quiet and derisive snorts your way.
"Stop! It hurts!"
"Cállate!"
He roared and you remained still, too stunned and pained to actually protest as he pulled you up, you whimpered as your feet scrambled. It was like watching a hungry and pissed cat playing with his food. One of your tears fell on his hand, releasing you to grab your arm instead.
His grip only increased to make his point clear.
Shut The Fuck Up.
But you didn't, instead you yanked and pulled or at least attempted to get away from him, but his resolve was as steely as his grasp. Even if you fought, he wouldn't budge.
"Let me go!"
His brow quirked but instead of releasing into an explosive outburst, He grabbed your waist and threw you easily over his shoulder like a potato bag, Ignoring your wails and tantrums, tired of your antics.
Your yapping was silenced with a rough and stinging slap on your naked rear. It made your toes curl and whimper enough to cut the meltdown. He wasn't in a mood to tolerate bullshit.
"Pinche bulliciosa." (So fucking noisy)
People in the building looked at you, mostly minded their business, others threw a chuckle or a low whistle your way. Upon entering the elevator, he put you down gently, just to feel the soft skin underneath his shirt. You twitched and he pressed the penthouse button.
Jessica and Ben joined in, each way too focused in their own world to actually pay mind to you. Jessica got off in the fifth floor, and Ben on the seventh. All of them full of agents, that undoubtedly obeyed him to the very last word.
As soon as the elevator's door closed, you wiped your eyes while rubbing the back of your head. He had yanked a bit too hard when trying to stop you, a headache simmered under your skull.
He just watched you, not saying a word. Not that he wanted to. What would he talk to you about?
Miguel was sure that you weren't that innocent as you looked, but he was sure that Massimo's betrayal had hurt.
In fact, he knew that the corrupt lawyer had a wife, even imagined someone way much older and wrinkly. Not you. Too pretty for your own damn good to be with someone like that. It made him wonder what made a good girl such as yourself marry a rotten man like Max.
The man in question had been fooling around enough to hide all his wrongdoings to to the point of having a secret life, hiding everything from you. Paying up shouldn't be an issue for Massimo, he was a top notch lawyer after all. Was that what drew you to him? Money? Success?
What did you work as? Who were your parents and why he still hadn't heard a thing on the news about the attack or you missing?
The elevator's door swung open, he pulled you out, but you remained glued to the floor, not daring to foray deeper in his place.
His den, where he could rest from playing the wolf and the rest of the world his cattle. Where he could be a normal man instead of being El Diablo.
Minimalistic, yet luxurious. The smell of his cologne and tobacco filled in the air, ever rich and manly. Like him and the shirt you wore.
"Take it off."
But you seemed set into pushing buttons not even his most trusted allies dared to press. Patience towards tantrums wasn't a virtue he possessed.
You blinked a couple of times before frowning at him.
"What?"
"I said, take it off."
"I'm naked."
He shrugged while prowling his way to you.
"You're not leaving this place anyways. Why would you need clothes?"
"If you wanna see me naked again, just say it. You probably have a shit ton of these in your stupid closet!"
His plump lips twitched into an amused smirk before cornering you against a pillar nearby.
"Ah, mira. La ratoncita tiene agallas." (Oh, look at that, the little mouse has guts)
He toyed with the upper button to loosen it.
"Take it off. I need my shirt."
Nervous breaths made you recoil as he fumbled with the second button, "I've got nothing to wear!"
You shrieked when he pulled the hems up, slapping his hand away, too focused in covering your bits rather than pushing him away. Brain reacting a bit too late when it registered his hand cupping your pussy.
"W-What are you-"
He crashed his lips on yours, angry and borderline famished from the lack of contact. You pulled him away, but his fingers turned bolder and it made your knees tremble. It was enough for him to grab the shirt to hang it loosely on his shoulder and leave you naked once more.
Palms immediately covering yourself, he rolled his eyes. Cold air hit you.
"This is your new home, until your dear husband decides to pay me, so better get used to it-
"How much is it?"
Miguel's bushy brows shot up in a 'Seriously?' look, to then frown at your interruption.
"Unless you have four million dollars to pay back, I'd suggest for you to trust your husband."
"Why don't you spare me the theatrics and kill me, then? I'm dead anyways."
"Killing you won't teach your husband a lesson. I'd be making him a favor if I get rid of you, if anything." He poured a glass of whiskey and downed it in a go, "Besides, did you just admit that asshole won't pay me back?
You gulped.
"N-No. He will, he has to."
The last bit sounded more of hou convincing yourself than the mob lord before you.
"Damn right, he has to. But wouldn't be surprised if he didn't make an effort. As I see it, you were useful for him, until you turned into an issue."
Your eyes widened in surprise and anger. How could he say such things to you? How dared he assuming that he knew Massimo?
"You don't know anything about him!"
"Oh? And you do?" Miguel taunted "You didn't even know who I was until I showed up in your doorstep, ratoncita."
He put the bottle away as he explained, "He got nervous not because of you finding out. But because of those files he tried to protect so badly to the point of endangering you. Call me whatever you want but even I know that's a low thing to do."
Your head shook, denying each and every word.
"I know he is a dick, but he wouldn't leave me sold out."
Miguel chuckled, almost sympathetic at the foolish hope. You still believed in the man, despite him cheating, lying and other horrors. You were either too inlove, or too blind to see.
Miguel leaned towards you, cold eyes boring into yours "Wanna find out?"
"He will pay up. I know so!" You didn't hesitate, almost convincing yourself that one day things would be nothing but bad memories.
"That would be a shame, really. Cause even for us, those lowlifes your perfect man tries to put behind bars, have standards when it comes to our close ones."
Another difficult gulp rolled down your throat. A sudden question popping in your mind.
"W-What if he doesn't pay?" His eyes softened at the underlying fear behind the question. His knuckle grazing your chin, smoothly.
"Then, you're mine."
-----
My property to do as I please.
What he really meant. You rolled on his bed. By the overall state of the place, you wouldn't have to worry for him coming at random hours to try something. In fact, he hadn't been around for days, but was a gentleman enough to provide some clothes for you to remain inside. His shirts and sweaters really.
But it was definitely better than being naked.
The place was a bit too big for your own tastes, yet oddly, it felt familiar. It reminded you of the several days you'd spend up waiting on your own, in your old home's grandeur, for Massimo.
He often left for weeks, due business trips. Or so you thought. Sometimes you'd have friends over, meaning, acquaintances that you made along the way when getting involved with Bianchi.
Miguel's words visited over and over your mind. Had you been beyond stupid?
Your mind replayed the last conversation you had with him over and over. Nothing regarding your safety, or wellbeing but rather a couple of papers.
That last kiss meant something, right? He still worried about you. Or else he wouldn't be furious while Miguel touched you. He wouldn't scream whatever he meant in Italian.
You held onto that. You wanted to believe that he was doing his best in getting his money or at least get Miguel behind bars.
You missed your old life. Although dull, you weren't under the cat's merciless paws, worrying about the police raiding the place or a wacko shooting a gun inside.
But you'd be a liar to say any of that happened, but loneliness was taking a toll on your mind. What was the use of having a large dream-like place when there was none around to even talk? Massimo had trained you well in the arts of seclusion, but being on edge hindered all that progress.
Not even the person that got you food remained too long in the same space as you. Hunger left you ever since yesterday, there was no news of you, of Massimo or anything related on the tv.
He was right
No. You refused to believe your husband had forsaken you, or your parents. One way or another you'd be in their emergency radar and hopefully you'd be able to be free. Where would you get four million? What did Massimo did with all that money?
There was so many questions that left your head pounding. Not that you needed light anyways. The elevator's door opened swiftly, yet you didn't bother to look at whoever had arrived. Too focused on a spot in the wall and lost in your thoughts to care.
"Why aren't you eating?"
The voice made you snap your head towards its owner. Jessica, that stared with a vexed deadpan upon finding the cold foods piled up on the dinner island.
"I'm not hungry."
Jessica huffed and put the food in the table while walking over your slouched form on the couch.
"He'll get pissed if he finds out you're letting food to waste. So stop acting like a-"
A hiccup.
Jessica rolled his eyes and grunted, annoyed at your crying but in truth, she couldn't really blame you for it.
This wasn't your world, your way of living, she still wondered what made Miguel to take you, other than his own amusement. You wiped the tears away.
"Look, as shitty as you feel right now, you need to eat. Won't solve all your problems but will do your body good. You'll need it."
"Why am I here?"
Jessica shrugged while bringing the plate back to you.
"Go figure."
"Where is Miguel?"
A tiny smirk crept up Jessica's face.
"Why? Miss him already?"
"Far from that. I just need to get some things back from home. Can't keep using his things."
Jessica just stared at you, lips about to speak but they remained shut. She looked solemn, like if bad news were about to spill from her glossy mouth.
"I'll see what I can do, got it? Now eat. You're insulting my chef"
Jessica pushed the tray to you, food looking Michelin star quality.
"Don't make me come back and force you to eat it, alright?"
The little smile in your face offered little reassurance, but it wasn't her duty to deliver the bad news.
----
Miguel barely slept, the constant stress of his empire prevented him from  getting some full sleep. And the woman straddling his hips while rutting herself into oblivion only made him even more exhausted. Her clumsy kisses stained his neck with the lipstick, music booming around him.
He had to give the femme some credit, if it wasn't for her loud and borderline fake wailing, he'd consider to indulge her again, cause her hips moved rhythmically and nonstop, edging him to the brink of a much needed release. But even so, his body remained tense after spilling into the condom.
He quickly removed the woman off him, annoyed while he cleaned after himself, the week's burden have been greater than he could handle. Peter offered to distract him while visiting one of his clubs. And the distraction had proven to be more a nuisance than anything.
At least she understood the message and left after catching her breath.
Peter entered the vip room, hand full of a whiskey glass, he pushed it back to him as he returned from the bathroom and then sunk into the single couch, quanked. The smell of sweat and perfume lingered in the air.
"Feeling better?"
"No."
Miguel threw his head back, Peter chuckled at his unkempt look. Shirt wide open, mouth flushed and smeared with creamy rouge, a soft hint of pink in his ears and cheeks and hair disheveled as the woman had held onto him.
It took him a moment to fix himself after downing the whiskey.
"I needed sleep. Not another woman with a cheap perfume."
"But she got you tired enough to sleep, didn't she?"
Miguel rolled his eyes and buckled his belt.
"Did Gabriel arrived already?"
"An hour ago actually, he was waiting for you to be done."
El Diablo stretched his long legs over the coffee table, knuckles holding onto his head.
Peter called Gabriel through one of the employees.
"What are you gonna do with that woman?" Peter gestured with his hands, trying to resemble your physical attributes.
"Who? The little mouse?" He chuckled before sighing, a hand rubbed his face, exhausted, "Who knows."
"Have you told her about her home yet?"
"And make her clam up even more? No. Jessica has been taking care of her. She's refusing food, all cause she's really missing that bastard."
"That's all she's known so far. Can't really blame her for it" Peter shrugged while looking through the window. The club thrived as usual.
The couch Miguel laid on was too comfortable to be standing up.
"Why don't you just... let her go?"
"No me digas." Red eyes stared at his left hand, unamused. (Oh really?)
"She's a witness. Plus I'm sure she knows more than she lets on about that pendejo."
"Massimo?"
"He disappeared. She must know where he is. A famous lawyer suddenly going missing? Not good. No news yet about it or his house burned to the ground? Even worst. That son of a bitch is up to something."
"What if she doesn't wants to cooperate?"
"I'll make her."
Gabriel entered the room, hands extended ready to hug his brother but upon looking at his current state, he stopped and chuckled.
"You done or... should I return later?"
"Gabri."
Miguel acknowledged him sleepily.
"Nor a fan of seeing you freshly milked. But I need your help."
Miguel's bored gaze fell on him while straightening his posture on the couch.
Gabriel, also known as Green Goblin, a name that still he was trying to not laugh at, the youngest of the O'Haras. Miguel's gun supplier and most trusted contact inside the bigger companies.
His little brother had followed his steps and now he was making his own name out there. And so far things seemed promising for him.
"¿Qué ocupas?" (What do you need?)
"To find a guy or his wife."
Miguel quirked an eyebrow, and Gabriel continued.
"You see, there is this... son of a bitch that works in a fancy firm, right? A month ago, one of my friends, my best friend, was raided in his home and arrested for drug trafficking."
"You're getting with junkies again?"
"Judge my friendship choices later, ok? As far as I know the guy had been in rehab and was celebrating five years sober. But that was just the tip of the iceberg".
Gabriel poured himself his own glass of whiskey and sat in front of his brother, a staid expression on his usual perky countenance. Miguel's discomfit grew bigger.
"It was him first. Then everyone I was collaborating at the moment suddenly get arrested and sentenced to a shit ton of years in jail." Gabriel crossed his legs before him.
Miguel's mouth soured. Not really liking the route the conversation was taking, the idea of who his younger brother was talking about turned less and less blurred until a clear image came in his mind.
"When I bribed an FBI agent-"
"You what?! Tas pendejo o qué?! Ya te dije que no te andes codeando con la policia-" (Are you stupid or what? I've told you to not hang around with the police!) Miguel’s voice was stern and Gabriel just dismissed him.
"Ay ya, calla. I know what I'm doing, so turns out that this... guy has been cooperating with them in exchange of not going to prison." (Oh shut up)
"A snitch." El Diablo scowled. If there was something he hated the most was snitches. Everyone knew what happened to the rats and snitches.
"He's the responsible of our agents getting shot or thrown in jail. Some say Kingpin is also after him and his family."
Fuck...
"What's his name?" He knew it, but even so needed to confirm the magnitude of the chaos the man had left and dragged you in with his lies.
"Massimo Bianchi."
-----
Miguel's door swung open, Jessica and Peter after him.
"Wait, Miguel!"
Jessica tried to stop him, but Miguel's rage was stronger than her and Peter.
Red eyes searching everywhere, until he spotted you on the couch. The atmosphere felt heavy, just like his breaths and thoughts.
Massimo was the culprit of all the issues he was trying to fix. Some of his most proficient agents in jail, because your dutiful husband was allegedly making things right and Miguel was sure Bianchi was screwing with him just cause. He had underestimated him and now it was giving him a headache.
The cherry ontop of his messy cake was Gabriel telling him that Kingpin was looking for you. And when the big man looked for someone, it meant nothing but trouble.
And still, he was angry cause you had been so damn stupid to sign things on Massimo's behalf and your name was in some documents that undoubtedly had served the police and FBI as evidence to get his agents in jail. Making you a target to many enemies Massi had made along his way to the top.
As lovely as you looked asleep, he yanked you by the ankle and dragged you all over the couch, your startled yelps echoed in the room. His shirt railed up, exposing thw only piece of underwear Jessica was able to get you.
"Stop!" Legs kicked and thrashed, railing the hem of his shirts up even more, upon seeing your panties he stopped.
"Get out"
"No, no, Jessica!" You pleaded but his hand darted over trembling skin to take a hold of your nape. A gasp escaped you as your face was buried on the cushions of the couch. Ass up high, clothed holes with a filmy red panties.
"Que te calles, pendeja!" He pushed the face deeper in the cushion while seething, "Why are you still here?" His question dripped with venom as his hand tangled in a fistful of your hair. (Shut up, dumbass)
Both of them left, Jessica threw you a subtle look of concern before going away.
A stinging spank echoed in your flesh, it had tears welling up your eyes while wincing painfully.
"God... I swear... I've known dumb ass people, and then there's you."
He pulled his trusted pocket knife out, flickering the blade alive in a swift swoosh. He was pissed. Now you were a real problem, not a mere plaything or guarantee he'd keep around for shits and giggles as he had originally planned.
"Do you know how many of my agents are in jail because of your stupid signature? Where is your husband?"
Another spank and your tears rolled
"You fucking crying? No, no, no." Miguel hovered over you while dragging the tip of his knife over the curvature of your rear, a pink welt trailing in it's wake. The blade slid horizontally on the panties, cutting the feeble fabric in half.
To then sit yourself properly to kiss you with all his anger. Assailant mouth devouring yours with such expertise you barely had time to breath properly, his tongue mercilessly curled and tasted around yours. Strong arms caged you as he ate your lips with hunger, leaving no room for gentleness.
Hands tore the remaining bits of fabric you had around your hips, as you gasped for a much needed gulp of air.
"I won't ask you again. Where is Max?"
"M-Massimo" you mumbled, trying to recover from the dizzying effect lingering in your senses.
"Me importa un carajo como vergas se llame, Where the fuck is he?" (I give two flying fucks on what his fucking name is)
"I don't know!"
His eye twitched but seeing your own spark shining through, amused and irked him equally. He pulled his shirt off you with a few tugs, since you refused to cooperate
Long and big hands squeezed your neck as he pushed you against the couch's back support, his other hand immediately cupped your pussy, fingers deftly exploring between them leisurely.
"Lemme refresh your memory then." He purred and your pelt crawled on its own. It wasn't full of that rich entice he first gave you, tempting you to drown in that corrupting well you ended up falling as he fucked you before your husband, but a much more dern and dangerous thing. Equally alluring.
Your legs trapped his hand in between, twitching at the contact. Your own hands grope at his wrist in a rickety attempt to release yourself.
His fingertips prodded viciously at the hardened nub between your puffed folds.
"You have no idea what you've done." He seethed in your ear. His touch was as delicious as painful.
"F-Fucking explain then" You moaned in between clenched teeth and breaths. And oh, you now were scared. The glint in his darkening eyes only matched the creeping darkness in his smirk
With a renovated vigor he took your ankles and folded them over you exposing your snug cunt, breath blown as your spine curved inwards, just like your legs, pushing them against your trembling hands.
A simple a quiet order. To hold them. He shook off his suit and unbuckled his belt, fumbling with his pants and underwear to finally release his hefty and hardening cock that landed on your shivering slit with a quiet slap. Feet kicking off his clothes.
He slicked his tip with his spit and rubbed between your awaiting folds.
"You" He sunk in, inch by inch, letting his girth to stretch open your slurping hole. Your lids drooped as a languid moan escaped your heaving lips. His hands trapped yours while holding your ankles, securing your and his grip on them. Making sure you wouldn't falter, "You're a target now"
He gritted his words as he pushed balls in deep. Earning a sweet shuddering squeak off you.
Eyes trailed down in the junction of your legs, mesmerized and marveled at how his thickness delved in with such ease in between your gummy and snug walls, with such slug speed it had your toes curled in. He made sure you felt everything.
When he pulled out, you could see your walls etching to him, begging to get back as your own creamy slick soaked him. Your fingertips curled underneath his larger palm, and he frowned.
"No, no, you'll fucking take it. You wanted me to explain, you'll take it."
There was a thrust. A wet one that had your jaw slacking open.
"That fucker is messing with me" Another thrust and it made you sputter a garbled moan, "And you know where he is"
"I-I don't knng-"
Your teeth clenched upon his tip rubbing your cervix. Cunt so full of him, twitching at the minimal movement.
"Where" A thrust, "Is" A deeper one, "He?" His hips slapped yours with all his might, dropping all his weight on your tightness, your eyes almost rolled back with a trembling sob.
Pants turned erratic, your head shook as he caged your folded frame in between his muscular thighs, accommodating deeper. There was no room for you to move, sweat begun forming on your forehead and neck. So far he had given you a few ruts and you were already hazy.
The couch creaked under your weight. His hands grope your ankles tighter, spreading them as further as they could go. Your hands were numbing. His weight crushed you so deliciously it had you watching, enthralled as he disappeared inside you.
"I don't know" words came in a shaky and husky breath, "I swear he-"
He released one of your ankles to squeeze your cheeks together, smirking darkly as he pulled out again.
"We'll do it my way then."
Before you could even reply, he held on once more on your ankles, a loud sob came out while he plowed relentlessly, unable to keep your squeaking and hiccuping away. His little mouse, ever compliant.
Loud and pleasurable wails filled in the room. Your jaw tightened and grunted, body bounced underneath his frame, taking each and every plow like a champ.
Feet swayed violently, like your breast. The heels of your soles dug in every side of his shoulders. Air lacked in your burning lungs. His muscles rippled and contracted with every remorseless plunge.
Wet and scummy slaps of flesh echoed unceasingly. Eyes bounced at the beat his creamed cock rutted into you. Fast enough to have your brain rewired, deep enough for your walls to feel each and every inch, taking the delicious beating of his cock in your already bullied cervix, and hard enough to mess with your thoughts in such way you were forgetting your own name.
Maddening, aggressive, dangerous yet addictive, like his thrust. Like him.
Oh God
He cupped your cheeks as your dazed eyes tried their best to remain awake.
"Fucking look at me" he growled
You were really really trying to. His forehead rested inches away from yours, letting your moanings turn into acute and desperate wheezes when he picked up the pace. You were sure your ankles would end up bruised and scratched, but in truth, right now it was the least of your concerns.
You were sure your brain shut off for a second or two. Panting and gasping for air like a fish out of water. Throat dry and hoarse.
Too much
Your legs shook and your mind snapped. You came, and came hard, squeezing his cock so tightly it made him whimper at the overestimulation. Juices coating him and rolled down your belly in a wet and explosive climax.
Walls spasmed so deliciously around him  in a pompoir-like hug, that ignited his own peak.
Miguel had to support on the couch's frame to catch his breath as his hot spurts of cum painted your walls white. Forehead finally collided against yours.
Gaze locking on your dazed eyes as he left your insides with an approving hum.
One of your legs fell on the couch, a little whine accompanied the limb's fall. Miguel bend to pick up something from his pants. A little clink and a beep made your attention to snap at him.
El Diablo gave a brief kiss on your ankle to then wrap the tracking device on it. To then let your leg fall next to you.
"Beg for me to find him first instead of Kingpin."
You curled on the couch, catching up your breath.
His eyes lingered on your body. Gorgeously tussled and flushed, marked by his own hands. A proud smirk crept up his face, but it quickly faded when staring at the golden band in your finger.
You were now his, but a problem. His problem. He believed you when saying you had no idea where Massimo was. But eventually you'd have to cooperate. If he was to keep you alive, the least he needed was honesty.
But how to get it when you were kept in the shadows for so long? An idea popped in his mind. Sex wasn't a good incentive, he noted. Not that it wasn't great, all the opposite really as he was ready to sleep, finally able to relax. Maybe he'd try a different and less physical approach.
He picked up his clothes and spoke over his naked shoulder.
"We'll leave tomorrow." He popped his joints back.
"Better sleep well."
You heard him disappear into his room. Your body protested when trying to sit up right. You reached for the forgotten shirt, and with difficulty wore it again.
His perfume tingled your senses, but you were too tired and sore to walk over the bed. Besides, he was there and as much as his bed was great for your back, you curled on the bigger couch. The way his eyes looked your way when he was done, made your heart leap.
No.
He was dangerous and in truth you were sure he had many other women scattered around. And you were married.
With a man that has gotten me in so much trouble...
For once, it wasn't Massimo that you thought when going to sleep.
----
Taglist:
@bunnibitez @gabrielarose29 @night-spectrum @katitakenway @reverieblondie @choppednerdtriumph @amelialysm @tatatida @daddysfavoritesexkitten @huniedeux @blissdoubtyattuma @rositabluemoon @freehentai @solesurvivorjen @ewan-tef @miranexx @madastrid @sukioyakio @whos-writting-stuff @spiderbunny00 @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @ginger23 @bammzyboomy @mmyyhhhh @escape-your-nightmare @m4dyy @mxtokko @lauritajn @pearlescenthearts @bookshied @stevespixie @crimin4llyins4ne @6thhokageswife @arrozyfrijoles23 @mangoslushcrush
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spencereidluver · 6 months
Text
D is for Diana
summary: you overhear spencer calling his mother and telling her about you. how hes finally found someone like him and who can understand him
word count: 675
warnings: none, just fluff and spencer crushing
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It was a normal Monday morning. The sounds of files rustling and pens against paper filled the room as people filled out their weekly paperwork. The only thing off was the slow speed the certified genius across from you was working. There was something on his mind, but from the look on his face, you could tell he wasn’t in the mood to share.
“Hey Spence, I’m gonna go make some coffee in a little bit, do you want some?” You asked, trying to find a way of cheering him up without trying to pry at him. 
“I’m good, thank you though.” He said without so much as looking up from his desk.
You let him work for a little longer, before you finally let it get the best of you, and you just had to ask him. “Okay, Spencer,” you said, finally getting him to look up at you for the first time this morning. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he responded. “I’m just waiting on a phone call from my mom.”
That made sense. Spencer always got nervous when his mother was brought up. His phone rang moments later, seemingly right on cue. “I’m gonna take this in the conference room, I’ll be back.” 
Spencer opened his phone as he stood up, greeting his mother with a warm “hello.” He quickly ran up the stairs, nearly hitting himself with the conference room door as he entered. You giggled to yourself before getting up and making your way to the kitchen to make the coffee you’d thought about earlier.
_____
With a freshly made cup of coffee in your hand, you couldn’t help but follow your unconscious lead to the conference room, leaning against the door to make sure Spencer’s conversation with his mom was going well. You weren’t trying to be weird or creepy, you just were trying to look out for your friend. You knew sometimes his mom said things that hurt him, mostly without realizing it.
As you reached the conference, you heard the squeaky giggle you’ve heard so many times come from behind the door. You almost left it at that, but curiosity got the best of you as you leaned your ear against the wooden door.
“No, mom. She’s perfect,” you heard Spencer say. “Everything about her is perfect.”
There was a pause, Diana was talking. You wondered who he was talking about. Spencer hadn’t talked to you about a special lady before. Maybe you’d stick around a little longer.
Spencer began to speak again. “No, she is the nicest person I’ve ever met. She’s gorgeous too, mom… No, I haven't asked her out… No, no she doesn’t have a boyfriend… I just don’t want to ruin our friendship. And I don’t want to make work awkward if she says no.”
Work? The girl he liked was at work? 
“I can’t just ignore her if she says no mom. Our desks are right across from each other. I’d have to face her every day.”
Oh my god. He was talking about you. Your face turned a shade of red so dark it might be classified as maroon. Your stomach had so many butterflies it felt like it was migration season. 
You heard Spencer begin to tell his mom he’d have to be going soon, and you decided you’d better hurry back to your desk so he didn’t know you were listening. He’d die if he knew, you thought.
You thought for a second, before returning to the kitchen and pouring another cup of coffee in Spencer’s favorite mug. You knew he’d said no, but you also knew, especially now, how much it’d mean to him if he came back to a warm cup of coffee on his desk. You add 5 sugar packets to the small mug, just how he liked it. 
You returned to your desk, sitting your mug on your desk and Spencer’s on his. You grabbed a sticky note and a pen and wrote: "For Spence <3,”before sticking it to the mug and returning to your seat.
next chapter: E is for Even Guys Like Me?
a/n: i'm so glad that this group of stories has been so well received :) i've worked so hard on them, and am trying my best to get ahead so i can release new parts at least every other day. i love reading all the comments you guys have left too... thank you all for the support. i'm so proud of the next chapter, it's definantly my favorite one in the series so far. it's pretty long, but in my own opinion, it's worth it. the chapters are going to start getting more relationship centered, starting next chapter!
taglist: @universallyblizzardlove @ms-ks-world @justlivinginadaydream @dij-ology
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violetduchess · 10 months
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Hot things they do:
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Summary: Hot things the Hashira do.
CW: Suggestive content
Note: The people have spoken and I have delivered.
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Rengoku
Rengoku has a habit of running his hands through his hair, a gesture that's become almost second nature to him. It's not a nervous habit, but rather a confident and unconscious display of his self-assured nature.
Every time Rengoku runs his hands through his hair, a few strands inevitably fall in front of his face. The way those strands frame his handsome features adds an irresistible charm, making him even more attractive.
After an intense training session, Rengoku's body is drenched in sweat, highlighting the contours of his toned muscles. It's a sight that leaves you mesmerized and longing for his touch.
Those strong arms of his, glistening with sweat, hold an undeniable allure. They exude a sense of power and strength that could easily overpower you, and the mere thought of it sends shivers down your spine.
In your wildest fantasies, you can't help but imagine being at Rengoku's mercy, his arms wrapped around you tightly. The thought of him using his strength to pleasure and dominate you is both thrilling and irresistible.
Rengoku's physical prowess combined with his gentle and caring nature creates an intoxicating blend. The contrast between his powerful presence and his tenderness is what makes him utterly captivating and irresistible.
You find yourself yearning for those moments after training, when Rengoku's muscles are still slightly taut from exertion. The sight of his sculpted physique fuels your desires, and you can't help but crave the touch of his strong, capable hands.
Sanemi
Sanemi's habit of using simple phrases like "hm?" or "mhm" may seem minimal, but there's something about the way he says them that sends your heart racing. The rawness and directness in his voice have a captivating effect, drawing you in and making every word he utters incredibly significant.
When Sanemi wants your undivided attention, he lifts your chin with the top of his pointer finger, gently guiding your gaze to meet his. The intimate contact ignites a surge of electricity within you, making it nearly impossible to focus on anything else. Face-to-face with Sanemi, it's as if the entire world fades away, leaving only the two of you in an intense connection.
Whenever Sanemi is near, it feels as though you're floating in orbit, completely enthralled by his presence. His commanding aura and magnetic personality are captivating, making it hard to tear your eyes away from him. Every interaction becomes a mesmerizing experience, leaving you spellbound.
While Sanemi may not be one to share grand gestures or elaborate speeches, his silence holds great significance. In those moments when he chooses not to speak, his focused gaze and unwavering attention communicate volumes. The intensity in his eyes conveys more than words ever could, leaving you breathless and eager for his next move.
Sanemi's presence has an undeniable magnetic pull, drawing you closer and leaving you captivated. Whether it's the sound of his voice or the touch of his finger against your skin, the effect he has on you is undeniable. In his company, the world around you fades into insignificance, and all that matters is the connection you share.
Giyuu
In the early morning hours, as the sun gently kisses the horizon, Giyuu's voice awakens. It carries a certain allure, a perfect balance of raspy tones and a hint of sleepiness. It's the kind of voice that makes you want to listen to him speak endlessly, losing yourself in the melodic cadence of his words.
During his training sessions at home, there are moments when Giyuu dons clothing that is just slightly too short, revealing glimpses of his well-defined abs as he stretches his body. It's a sight that sends a pleasant shiver down your spine, an enticing display of his physical strength and dedication.
Every now and then, when his gaze catches yours, Giyuu playfully remarks that "staring isn't polite," his deadpan manner adding an unexpected charm to the situation. It's his way of acknowledging your attention while maintaining his composed demeanor, a playful interaction that leaves a lingering sense of warmth and teasing in the air.
Gyomei
Gyomei's protective nature always has you by his side, seeking comfort in your presence. He instinctively pulls you close, finding solace in your proximity, especially in crowded places.
You feel a gentle pressure against your lower back as Gyomei's hand rests there, creating a comforting connection that sends pleasant shivers down your spine. It's a subtle gesture that makes you acutely aware of the effect he unknowingly has on you.
In public, Gyomei's preference for keeping you close is evident. He wraps his arm around your waist, creating a shield of security and making you feel cherished. The physical contact sends warmth flooding through your veins.
The sensation of Gyomei's hand on your lower back becomes a source of both comfort and excitement. It's a touch that reassures him and stirs something deep within you, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken connection between you.
Gyomei's protective grip on your waist in public spaces becomes a silent declaration of his trust and reliance on your presence. His touch radiates a calming energy, reminding you of the unspoken bond that exists between you.
Mitsuri
Mitsuri's excitement is contagious. Whenever she gets enthusiastic about something, her eyes sparkle like a starry summer night, and her vibrant voice carries her joy for miles.
There's an undeniable charm in Mitsuri's little habit of bouncing up and down when she's excited something else bounces too. It's like her energy can't be contained, and it adds an adorable touch to her already endearing personality.
Animals are drawn to Mitsuri's gentle nature and warm energy. They have a natural affinity for her, and it's not uncommon to see furry creatures flocking to her side. She welcomes their presence with open arms and finds comfort in their company.
Uzui
Uzui, in moments of vulnerability, finds comfort in resting his head in his partner's lap. It's an intimate gesture that creates a sense of closeness and trust between them.
When Uzui slowly opens his eyes, his gaze carries a magnetic quality. It's as if the world falls into place around him, and his partner can't help but be captivated by the depth and intensity within his gaze.
There's something undeniably alluring about the way Uzui lowers his head, whether in deep thought or as a display of his relaxed demeanor. His partner finds themselves drawn to his subtle movements, which exude confidence and a touch of mystery.
Uzui's undeniable self-assurance is a magnetic quality that draws others to him. He knows he's attractive, and his partner can't help but be intrigued by his confident presence.
Uzui's effortless charm and attractiveness seem to emanate from within. It's as if he effortlessly carries an aura of refinement and sensuality, leaving his partner unable to resist his magnetic appeal.
Shinobu
Shinobu has a penchant for oversized sweaters, particularly during the colder months. Despite the slightly loose fit, she still manages to look incredibly stylish, especially with the cozy sweaters emphasizing her delicate frame.
However, due to their oversized nature, the sleeves of the sweaters tend to be a bit too long for Shinobu. As a result, she often finds herself with sweaterpaws, her delicate hands peeking out from the oversized sleeves. along with the top of her breast,
While Shinobu doesn't actively sing on her own accord, she possesses a beautiful singing voice. Most of the time, she unconsciously hums tunes to herself when she's lost in her thoughts or at ease. The melodic hums serve as a testament to her tranquil nature.
Obanai
Whenever a single strand of hair dares to stray onto his partner's face, Obanai can't help but brush it away with the lightest touch. He does it with such nonchalance that it often catches them off guard, leaving them flustered and secretly thrilled by his subtle display of affection.
Obanai finds great delight in teasing his partner by brushing away those tiny stray hairs. He'll do it playfully, pretending to be completely absorbed in the act while slyly observing their adorable reaction. It becomes their little game, with both of them cherishing these tender moments.
Muichiro
Muichiro has a habit of fixing his gaze on you, his eyes filled with adoration, and he can't seem to take them away from your presence.
Whenever you catch him staring, a soft smile tugs at the corners of his lips, and his dimples make a subtle appearance, adding to his charming demeanor.
You can't help but feel a blush creep up your cheeks as you ask him what he's looking at, only to receive a gentle shake of his head accompanied by a quiet smile, leaving you wondering about the thoughts behind his adoring gaze.
Muichiro's unwavering attention and admiration for you make you feel incredibly special and cherished, as if you're the center of his world.
His silent adoration speaks volumes, expressing a depth of emotion that transcends words, creating a connection between you that is both sweet and intimate.
Despite his quiet nature, Muichiro's eyes communicate his feelings with such clarity and sincerity, leaving you with a warm and fuzzy feeling in your heart.
It's a delightful and slightly embarrassing secret between the two of you, as you both understand the unspoken language of his adoring gaze and the love it conveys.
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All rights reserved @violetduchess. All works of fanfiction belong to me, please do not copy, translate or repost any works without my express permission. Thank you.~☆
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I want to talk about one of the most terrifying and interesting bsd characters who almost no fan remembers.
This character nearly tore down the ADA without ever getting involved herself, yet the entire fandom has ignored her because of her terrible anime adaptation.
Who am I talking about?
Nobuko Sasaki
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If you haven't read Dazai Osamu's Entrance Exam, then you probably don't even know who this character is, in the anime she is watered down to the lovesick girlfriend of an actual villain, and you probably dismissed her immediately. But in the light novel, we get to see how dangerous and cunning she really is, to the point she nearly gets the better of Dazai and almost causes the ADA to be shut down. (Fukuzawa says he would have closed the agency if they hadn't caught her)
In terms of intelligence I'd put her on the same level as Mori, just slightly below the super human genius characters i.e. Dazai, Fyodor and Ranpo
The Azure Apostle
For those who don't remember, Sasaki was the Azure Apostle, a mysterious figure who challenged the agency with several horrifying cases, which would all lead to mass casualties if the agency failed to stop them. These were; uncovering an underground organ smuggling operation (which the agency failed to stop and which massively hurt their reputation) stopping a bombing of Yokohama port which could have killed hundreds of people, and preventing a commercial aeroplane from crashing into the city (this was not included in the anime)
Each of the people, who committed these crimes, had no Idea they were being manipulated and thought it was their own idea the whole time. There was no evidence that anyone else had been involved at all, and the agency had no way to connect her to any of the crimes. And she even makes the genius move of framing Dazai, the mysterious new member with suspicious knowledge of the underworld and a hidden past, as the true culprit.
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In fact, she only made one mistake, challenging Dazai. If Dazai had been basically anyone else, they would have been cornered and arrested, but since Dazai's mind works on a level even master strategists can't imagine, he was able to turn the tables on her.
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But even after Dazai sees through her plans, the ADA still has to act exactly the way she wants them too and stop the plane crash. Even when they know they're being manipulated, they still have to do exactly what she wanted.
Finally, after Dazai and Kunikida confront her and get her to admit to being behind all those crimes, even then they are powerless to stop her.
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Even after being involved with so many massive crimes, Sasaki herself hadn't done anything illegal, so within the law the ADA is completely powerless to stop her.
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They can't arrest her, and if they try then the agency will be put in even more danger as will many innocent lives. She has completely trapped the ADA, and even Dazai in a choice to follow the law and let her go or take justice into their own hands and prove they will stoop as low as she did.
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In the end, there she has them in a perfect deadlock, let her continue her mission, or kill her themselves. Both are bad outcomes for the ADA.
In the end, Dazai has her killed by using a third party (Rokuzo) to shoot her, so the agency can't be blamed for her murder, though this ends her plans it deeply scars Kunikida and shakes his resolve in his ideals.
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The trauma from this event still haunts Kunikida to this day, we see that when he is affected by Q's curse, Sasaki is who he sees.
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So thats the Azure Apostle, a terrifying master mind who nearly brought down the Armed Detective Agency, but now lets look at the other side of this character.
Nobuko Sasaki Herself
We know several things about Sasaki as a character and her history from the light novel. That she was a brilliant criminal psychologist and was internationally recognised despite being so young
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,that she was the ex-lover of the Azure King and the real mastermind behind his plans, and that she had very little motivation of her own.
That's not meant to be an insult to the character, she says herself that she never really had much direction in life, even with her incredible intelligence she never really had anything she wanted to achieve.
But the Azure King was the opposite, he had powerful drive and strong ideals, he wanted to punish criminals who couldn't be touched by the law and when he failed to change the law as a bureaucrat, she offered him an alternative.
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A very important thing here is that neither of them were manipulating or forcing the other into this path, as far as we see they genuinely loved each other, each providing something the other couldn't, Sasaki her mind and the Azure King his drive.
When the Azure king died, Sasaki had no path of her own to follow, so she simply kept following his, even though she doesn't seem to have really cared about his cause.
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All of this creates a very unique character, you can't say she was driven by revenge, because she wasn't really driven at all. It's more like she was running on momentum, she had chosen a path to follow and could not stop even though there was nothing pushing her down it any more.
She's a perfect antithesis of Kunikida and was the best possible villain a light novel about him could have had.
A man who brings his ideals into reality with his own hands against a woman who uses others to enforce ideals that were never hers to begin with.
Anyway, I made this because Sasaki is criminally underrated in this fandom, If you haven't read "Dazai Osamu's Entrance Exam" I highly recommend it, I've only put a tiny fraction of the amazing story here.
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andypantsx3 · 5 months
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MR. TOKYO BEAT HOTTEST HERO : SHOUTO x READER
SUMMARY: Shouto finds out he’s hot. He swiftly uses this knowledge against you. CONTENT & WARNINGS: pro hero au, established relationship, afab reader (no pronouns used), shouto's general obliviousness, todoroki shouto is a little shit, fluff, aged-up characters, smut, nipple play, vaginal sex, emotional sex, 18+ minors please dni! (3.8k)
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Pro Hero Shouto Voted Tokyo Beat’s Hottest Hero of the Year
It’s been almost six years since Todoroki Shouto swept onto the scene as pro hero Shouto, melting almost as many villains as he has hearts. Currently standing at number four in the hero rankings, he’s armed with a formidable ice-and-fire combination quirk nearly as devastating as his smile.
Shouto’s heartthrob status has created such a sensation that he’s papered the pages of our magazine hundreds of times since his UA days. Now he’s taking home the coveted Hottest Hero crown… [read more]
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It was a frosty night in early December when Shouto returned from patrol, looking uncharacteristically ruffled.
To an outside observer, his expression probably looked as bland as ever. But years into your relationship, you knew how to read your boyfriend’s microexpressions—the tiniest furrowing of his brows, the softest downward hitch of that perfect, plush mouth. He looked troubled—more troubled than you’d seen him in a while.
You turned off the heat on the stove, abandoning the dinner you’d been preparing, and rushed over to him as he shed his boots at the door. He’d apparently already changed out of his hero uniform at the agency, dressed instead in the high-collared gray coat that always made him look like he’d wandered out of the pages of a J. Crew catalog. He shrugged his coat off in tandem with his backpack, the tiny frown still carving his lips.
“Shouto—what’s wrong? Are you alright?” you asked, immediately taking his face in your hands.
Shouto blinked down at you, twin points of blue and silver fixing on your face. To your satisfaction, his expression seemed to soften, a tiny smile pulling at the corner of his mouth instead, and he murmured your name in greeting, his tone low and soft.
“Did something bad happen on patrol?” you asked. “You look troubled.”
Two warm, big hands came up to encompass your own, his thumbs smoothing over the backs of your fingers. You let him pull your hands away from his face to hold in his own, and he pressed a kiss to the knuckles of one, his mouth sweet and hot on your skin.
You flushed. Despite the years you’d been together, you had never been able to establish any sort of immunity to Shouto. If anything, the crush you’d had on him before you’d gotten together had only grown more out of control the longer you were exposed to him—-you still got butterflies whenever he looked at you with a fraction more intensity than normal.
“Hello, love,” he said, his mouth lingering over your skin.
Your stomach swooped, and your face got hot. Damn him.
“Hi Sho,” you backtracked. “I’m happy you’re home. But seriously, did something happen?”
Shouto’s fingers tightened around yours, and a little wrinkle appeared between his brows. “Not on patrol. Something else… unexpected happened.”
You watched him, waiting for him to elaborate.
His eyes roved over you, as if searching for the appropriate words on your face, until he seemed to find the right question. “Am I… do people consider me handsome?”
There was a moment of stunned silence before an incredulous laugh burst out of you.
The most beautiful man on earth, the internet’s steadfast boyfriend—the literal stuff of wet dreams, lurid fantasies, and thousands of covert sessions with a vibrator—was asking if he was considered handsome.
You knew Shouto had never been interested in his own beauty, blinking at compliments as if unsure how to receive them, generally oblivious to anyone hitting on him as though he thought people were that friendly to everyone, never spending any significant time in front of the mirror unless it was to stare at you next to him in the reflection, undoing your hair or washing your face or brushing your teeth.
But to be so unaware of his own looks that he was asking you?
“Shouto, you know you’re handsome,” you said. “I tell you all the time.”
The wrinkle between Shouto’s brows deepened. “You think so because you love me. But—I meant… do other people who do not love me think so?”
Your eyebrows shot to your hairline, floored by this line of questioning. “Shouto—every single person on earth thinks you are like the hottest man alive. Are you for real?”
Shouto blinked, those gray and blue eyes growing a fraction wider. “They do?”
You nodded, surprise coloring your tone. “Yeah—you didn’t know? Sero calls you ‘pretty boy’ to tease you like all the time. You get hit on every time you leave the house. You have twitter accounts dedicated to you.”
A tiny pout crept onto Shouto’s mouth, and his eyelashes fluttered. “I thought he said it as a joke. And I thought those accounts were fans of my work. And I thought… you only thought so because you love me.”
You laughed. Shouto’s good looks were as serious as a heart attack. So serious they might just induce one, in fact. And you did love him, and would love him no matter what he looked like—his inside was just as beautiful as his outside, and would always make him attractive to you. He was so kind, so thoughtful, and so inherently bone-deep good in so many ways that made your heart swell just looking at him.
Truly he was love-you-even-if-you-were-a-worm material. But this was no laughing matter.
“What’s brought this question on now?” you asked.
Shouto blinked again, looking slightly startled, then turned to his backpack. He produced a glossy magazine with a sticky note stuck to it, covered in his manager’s handwriting that read: check out page 43 >:). Just over the sticky note, two very familiar heterochromatic eyes peered out intensely from the magazine’s cover.
You peeled away the note to see your boyfriend’s face in full—his expression handsome and solemn. The shot must have been taken sometime post-rescue as he had smudges of ash all along his high cheekbones, and his hair was windswept, and a little piecey, like he’d just finished using phosphor. A headline next to his ear proclaimed, Todoroki Shouto: Tokyo Beat’s Hottest Hero Alive!
You looked back up at Shouto to find both of his ears red, though his expression was determinedly blank-faced. A grin yanked at your mouth.
“Well someone who works there has eyeballs,” you said, laughing. “Congratulations, Shouto!”
The scarlet at the tips of Shouto’s ears deepened. “I do not… I did not expect…”
Your smile grew larger, fondness blooming in your chest. He was so good you wanted to bite him. Of course he never expected anything like this—his concerns were tied to his heroics—had he saved enough people, was he living up to the hero he wanted to be? Even when he’d finally broken the top five earlier last month, he was only pleased to be so recognized because he wanted many people to be reassured by him, not out of any sense of competitiveness with his fellow heroes.
He would never think of anything like this—he was so fucking good.
“I always thought—my scar,” Shouto said, touching his face.
Your heart squeezed and you wormed your fingers under his, placing your hand over the scar in question.
“Your scar is a part of your face and a part of your identity. But to be real with you, it only makes you look more interesting, Sho.” Your own ears heated. “To be completely honest it’s—well it’s one thing that makes you look human. You kind of look, um, unnaturally handsome otherwise, like some kind of vampire or angel or something. When I say things like you’re too handsome to be allowed I actually mean it, you know.”
Shouto paused, those heterochromatic eyes flickering back down to yours. A scarlet eyebrow quirked slightly. “Then you also think that I am handsome,” he said, though it was phrased more like a revelation to him than a question.
“Did you think I was lying?” you asked hotly.
Shouto shook his head minutely. “No—but I did not realize. You found me handsome before you loved me?”
You laughed. “I had eyeballs before I loved you, so yeah. And I wouldn’t be so effusive all the time if I didn’t mean it. You think when I tell you stuff like that that I’m just playing it up?”
Shouto’s expression went suddenly blank, like a marker board suddenly erased of nefarious plans. Instantly, your hackles raised, the smile falling off your mouth, your senses suddenly screaming danger. Shouto might be the most trustworthy, reassuring, and beautiful pro hero of all time, but beneath the surface lurked a youngest child and a major little shit. His expression only ever changed like this when he was about to get up to something.
“Then you think I am so handsome you cannot think,” Shouto said.
The magazine suddenly crackled in your fingers as you clutched it between you. “What.”
Shouto moved a step closer, gaze sharpening. “When you said I was so handsome you cannot think. You meant it.”
A sound like a nervous cow escaped you as you backed up a few steps. “Did I say that?”
A tiny smile pulled at Shouto’s mouth again, a cross between something sincerely pleased and sincerely shit-eating.
“When you said I am so handsome that sometimes your brain goes static,” he said, his tone dropping low, prowling closer. “You meant it.”
You flushed hot. Hearing your words repeated back to you like that was so embarrassing.
You flailed when your back hit the wall, and Shouto stretched out an arm, blocking you in. You couldn’t help the way your eyes flicked to his bicep for a split second, admiring the way it flexed slightly under the sleeve of his shirt as he pressed his hand to the wall, the way the kitchen light shadowed it lovingly.
Shouto’s ears were even redder when you looked back at him, but his gaze was hungrier. He’d definitely noticed your inspection, and his newfound realization about your level of appreciation was clearly both pleasing but embarrassing.
“You said your brain does not work right when I am close,” Shouto said, his face looming near. “Am I doing it right?”
He was doing it right—terribly, horribly, awfully right. Your breath caught in your lungs, lights in your brain winking out one by one as that soft, perfect mouth hovered just over yours. Shouto was so warm this close, and you could feel all the fibers in your body straining towards him like plants unfurling under the sun.
You rallied yourself one last time, throwing your hands up, defeated. “I live with a literal Greek sculpture of a boyfriend, am I not supposed to admire the artwork?”
Shouto didn’t respond. Instead, you saw the smile on his lips widen a fraction, just before his mouth captured yours.
In the space of a heartbeat he’d pressed himself against you, trapping you against the wall just as your knees went to pudding. You could feel every part of him against you and you couldn’t think, all your thoughts slipping away, dissolving like sugar in water. Shouto’s hands came up to support your waist, pinning you against the wall as he kissed you so sweetly and so very thoroughly.
“Is this it, love?” he asked when he pulled back, something both smug and wondering in his tone. “Am I doing it right?”
You scraped the bottom of your mind for any fragments of human language with which to respond. “You always do it right, you little shit.”
Shouto’s mouth quirked in a smile again, and he leaned in to press it to the side of your throat, lips moving softly. You shivered in his hands and felt the way his smile widened on your skin.
You could practically feel delight pouring off of him, this discovery of his new power—a power he’d always had but never understood in full.
It figured Shouto’s beauty would only interest him insofar as he could deploy it against you.
But that was Shouto. Everything he had was something he used in service to others.
Shouto’s mouth mapped a hot trail down your throat, and you clung to his shoulders as his lips dipped under the collar of your shirt and sucked, softly but insistently. One of his hands left its place at your hip to slide up your stomach and beneath the fabric of your shirt, cupping the side of your breast.
He wasn’t touching anything, but the feeling of his hand, warm and strong and so very large that it spanned over your chest and ribcage, sucked all the oxygen right out of the air. You bit back a noise as Shouto left another mark beneath your collar, his long eyelashes fluttering against the skin of your throat as he let out his own soft groan.
“I thought you were beautiful, too, before I loved you,” Shouto said as his fingers traced the outline of your bra, just barely skimming the skin underneath.
Your ears went hot, the way they always did when Shouto got sincere in place of dirty talk. It was even hotter than the filthiest thing he could have said to you, because you knew he meant every single word of it.
“But now I love you, you are even more beautiful to me,” he said. “Is it the same for you?”
You opened your mouth to reply, but cut off on a moan as Shouto’s fingers finally found their way beneath your bra, his thumb swiping over your nipple. Your head thunked back against the wall when he did it again, pinching gently as his other hand covered your other breast, mirroring the action.
Heat streaked through your veins, pooling in your core. You bit your lip as Shouto played with you, feeling those heterochromatic eyes hot on your face.
“Answer me, love,” he commanded gently.
You peeked open an eye, realizing you’d squeezed them shut, shuddering as Shouto’s thumbs swiped over your nipples again, the touch perfect and maddening. Shouto was watching you intently, as he always did, but there was an extra dimension of interest, as if he truly did not know, truly wanted to know what you would say.
“Yes,” you told him, your tone hitching higher as he gently rolled your nipples in his long, pretty fingers. “Yes I—oh!—only find you more incredibly handsome every day—ah! Shouto!”
Shouto looked pleased, leaning forward to layer a kiss over your mouth as he played with your nipples. You squirmed under his hands, panting into his mouth, the touches already overwhelming. After years together, he knew exactly how to work you.
A strong thigh slid in between your own as Shouto pressed himself closer to you. You kissed him fiercely, huffing tiny embarrassing noises into his mouth, grinding against his thigh.
“Fuck, love,” Shouto groaned as he grew hard against your hip. You felt like you were floating, thoughts distant, the only present idea the feeling of Shouto’s strong body over yours. He was all over you but you wanted more, wanted to climb inside him and make your home there, wanted him to press inside of you and fill you and claim you and keep you—
“Shouto, bed—please, please—” you managed, before Shouto was hefting you in his arms obligingly.
He dumped you on the bed with a little less finesse than usual, following you down hungrily, weighing you into the sheets.
He made short work of your clothes, and you were bare to him in what felt like seconds. Shouto’s mouth immediately sought your breast again, closing over your nipple as his fingers dipped inside of you. You writhed with the heat of him over you, the heat of his mouth on you, the gentle press of him inside of you.
His thumb brushed over your clit as his tongue did something mind-bending over your nipple, and a moan escaped you, high and shivery. Shouto’s huff across the skin of your chest told you that it had pleased him, and he sucked a little more firmly, a little more insistently.
“Shouto, Shouto, Shouto—” you babbled mindlessly, hands sliding all over him. You wanted to touch him but you couldn’t reach him in return, so you settled for sliding your fingers into his hair, clinging as he made stars fizzle under your skin.
“Shouto—I’m going to come—you have to stop if you want to—ah!” you squeaked, as Shouto rubbed you more purposefully, moving over your clit in the way he knew you liked. His fingers moved inside you unrelentingly as he licked and sucked you slowly, the contrast between his mouth and his fingers too much for you.
Your pleasure rolled over you like a wave, rushing through your veins, pooling in all your limbs. You seized up under Shouto, but his weight held you down, his mouth and fingers working you through it.
You were still whining with sensitivity when he worked his own clothes off and slid into you, filling you up with the familiar shape of him. Your whine trailed into another moan, the feeling of him so utterly perfect inside of you.
“I don’t need anyone to think I am handsome but you, love,” Shouto said, canting his hips up so that he slid in and out of you. “All I want is you.”
You shifted, wrapping your legs around his back, pulling him deeper inside of you. “I know—Shouto, you’re beautiful inside and out. I love everything about you. Your face, your voice, your kindness, your goodness,” you paused as he filled you again, grinning up at him. “Your di—”
A powerful thrust had you choking off into a squeak, and you clutched his bicep as Shouto smiled down at you, his own grin charming and mischievous. You thought he was especially handsome just like this—panting, flushed, grinning, glorious—the way no one else got to see him but you. Mr. Tokyo Beat Hottest Hero he may be, but people still would never know how truly beautiful he could be, grinning down over you.
That was all yours.
Shouto wormed an arm between your back and the mattress, catching your waist and pulling you into him. The new angle had him brushing against your clit as he slipped in and out of you, and your eyes nearly rolled back in your head when you caught sight of where you were joined together, Shouto’s abs flexing tightly as he moved back and forth within you.
Sounds of pleasure slipped out of you, and Shouto caught them in his mouth. You kissed him back, clinging to his shoulders, pulling him closer. You reveled in the feeling of his hot skin on yours, shivering in delight with the contrast of his heat and the cool room around you.
Shouto’s hips worked into you, chasing both of your pleasure, his strokes fluid and sure. Those long fingers slid down your body again to press ever-so-slightly over your clit, and you bucked into his hand, delirious with the feeling of him pressing against you from both the inside and out. With the heavy weight of him over you it was like he was all around you, all over you, in your mouth, in your sex, overwhelming you.
You writhed against him, babbling a string of nonsense when he let your mouth free. Praise about how beautiful he was, about how good he was, about how good he felt, about how much you loved him.
Shouto breathed his own praise into your ear, his mouth closing around the lobe. He told you how beautiful you were, how much he loved you, how even if everyone liked the way he looked it was “all for you, love—everything is for you.”
His fingers slid in soft circles around your clit as he ground into you, kissing his way up your throat. You panted into the dim of your bedroom, little stars sparking in the corner of your vision. It felt like someone had lit a sparkler beneath your skin, a thousand tiny points of fizzing, burning friction, and Shouto was touching every single one of them.
“Cum for me, love,” Shouto commanded, his tone soft and low, kissing the underside of your jaw.
You couldn’t speak, could only nod, nearly there. His fingers kept toying with you, expert and unrelenting, and in another few seconds the wave of your pleasure was mounting again. It swept over you like a tidal wave, smashing through you, sweeping through every limb, every nerve ending.
You cried out Shouto’s name, clenching around him, and then he was abandoning your clit to pull you up into him, grinding hard. His pace grew faster, more frantic, and he panted into your throat, until he was following you off the edge, pouring himself into you, filling you up from the inside.
You shivered and shook against him until finally the wave of your pleasure crested. Shouto relaxed over you as your limbs went slack too. He pressed a kiss to your mouth, slow and languid.
“Definitely Tokyo’s hottest hero,” you said muzzily, your words a little slurred. “The world’s hottest hero, even.”
Shouto huffed a tiny laugh. “I only need to be your hottest hero,” he told you, his heterochromatic eyes pinning you earnestly.
You smiled up at him, running a hand absently through his scarlet and white mop of hair, the silky strands slipping through your fingers.
“You always have been. Before I loved you, but especially now that I love you this much,” you told him.
Shouto smiled, then, a pleased, half-moon grin, so beautiful and so clever that it knocked the wind right back out of you again. You leaned up to kiss him again, soaking in his private beauty, pleased that you out of everyone got to have him like this. And you would make him feel it again—you wanted to show him again how much he meant to you.
He was Tokyo Beat’s Hottest Hero—but he was your most beautiful, beloved, cherished hero. And that was a thousand times better. So you’d show him a thousand times over.
You rolled over him, delighting in the slight widening of those beautiful eyes, the tiniest quirk of interest on that perfect mouth.
You’d show him—starting right now.
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