(NSFW)

Giggly sex where you say “you’re so good to me” as you laugh and it makes your partner growl and nip at your lip and when they pull back they say “let me show you how good”

hi hello m also here to leave a smol hc for your event ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

nanami who frequents a specific bakery, tells everyone that it’s for this new stuffed pastry he likes when they ask, but little do they know that his favorite pastry is the new ‘n sweet little baker in town that he personally gets to stuff<33 - 🍡

nanamin's guilty pleasure

400 follower event entry #1

pairing: nanami kento x reader

genre: smut

warnings: f!reader. age gap. smut! semi-public (bakery backroom). sloppy quickie. creampie. slight!breeding kink. pet name (baby). slight!cumplay.

"hey, nanamin," gojo calls after his blonde colleague, eyes training on the latter as he sits behind a desk, "what do you like so much about that bakery?"

nanami's head lifts up, glancing at gojo who's so comfortably leaning against the doorframe, and he knows that his coworker can't see the irritation in his eyes behind his glasses, but he wishes he could.

"just curious," gojo chuckles, "i stopped by the other day, and it doesn't seem all that interesting to –"

"pastries," nanami replies, cutting the other male short, and the lie slips off his tongue so well, like he's practiced it a thousand times, "stuffed pastries are my… guilty pleasure."

stuffed pastries. sure. the pastries are good, great even – but the pastries are nothing compared to you, when you're bent over and dripping with his cum over in the bakery's back room.

he's got two fingers – index and middle – shoved into your mouth, pressing down against your tongue and vibrating as you mewl and groan with every delicious thrust of his hips into yours, every rut of his aching cock into your plush heat.

"feels so good for me," he praises you, and you try to smile around his fingers, blissed out and so grateful to be his fuck-toy, to help him through his daily frustrations. you're whining, tears streaming down your pretty face and dripping off your chin and onto his warm hand that holds your face in place.

"mmmh – 'namin, s'good!"

you're slurring his name, spewing absolute nonsense as you clench around his length and drip down into the dainty lace panties that dangle around your thighs, panties you bought to show off to him. he's sweating more than he sweats in battle as he fucks into you, groaning with every time your walls contract around him, and you whimper incoherently as he fucks you stupid. he can feel every flutter of your walls, every squeeze that means you're getting a little closer, and he ruts harder and harder against that good, sweet spot that makes you cry out and see stars.

"c'mon, baby," he urges you weakly, because he knows you're so, so close, and he knows he is, too, and he's praying you'll cum around his cock before he cums inside of you, "cum for me, know you want to, can feel it."

"w'nna cum, 'namin, w'nna cum s'bad – oh, fuck, please, please, please, lemme cum!"

you yelp, choking as his huge hand wraps around your throat, tugs you up higher and bullies his hard cock deeper into you, fucking you harder and faster, chasing the high that he can feel building up in his belly, and you're gasping and whimpering as your back hits his chest, head buried in his shoulder, and his heavy balls slap against your clit with every rut.

"so good for me," nanami whispers, words of praise sending waves of pleasure all the way through your slicked-up cunt that squelches with every thrust, the sounds and smells of sex occupying each and every one of your senses, "gonna fill you up as a reward, baby, nice and full of my cum."

the waves are crashing harder, the pleasure hitting you over and over, taking over your vision and sending your eyes rolling back into your head, and you squeal –

"ooh, f-fuck, 'namin –"

and then the bough breaks, your two-man ship colliding with the shore and shattering on impact, and you're gaping like a fish out of water, mouth open in a silent scream – and as you cum, cunt fluttering around him and milking him for all he's worth, so does he; spurts of pearly white cum shooting into your pussy and dripping, lewd squelching sounds filling the room, as he thrusts into you, fucking you through your orgasm and gently pressing you down on the break table before you, drowning in your whines.

"f-fuck," you whimper out, and nanami chuckles as he waits for your cunt to stop clenching around him, waits for you to breathe evenly, before he slowly pulls his cock out of your cunt – and then he stares.

the sight is enough to make him hard all over again, watching your cunt flutter, dripping his cum so lewdly, and he can't help running a finger down your slit, collecting the cum and using a single digit to push the sticky mess back into you.

"n-no, 's sore, 'namin –"

"i know, baby, i know," he chuckles, leaning down to tug your panties back up your thighs, "can't help it, 's so cute, hmm?"

you chuckle at the sweetness of his tone, glance up weakly to see him staring down at you the same way as he adjusts his pants, buckles his belt, and he smiles softly, whispers hoarsely, "need a coffee?"

"that would be nice, yeah," you say meekly, and he nods. "coffee machine's –"

"in the front, i know," nanami chuckles, reaching for his glasses that he keeps in his blazer pocket, "not our first rodeo."

you giggle at that, thank him quietly as he helps you stand up straight, kisses your forehead, and gently sits you down on a chair. you watch him leave the backroom with his shirt untucked, looking oh-so untidy, and you smile tenderly.

nanami, however, enters the front room and stills as he stands behind the counter. his mouth goes dry, and he frowns.

"stuffed pastries," gojo, leaning against the counter with a wide, devilish grin on his face, "i get it now."

bunny's taglist: @bihwhatever2 @mssuguru @feral-creep @thechroniclesofawriter @xsmilesx @amethyst-bunny @kageyama-i-want-tobiors

Sexualizing that old man is a full time job

[anakin x reader x obi-wan]

THE LATE NIGHT THOUGHTS ARE PLAGUING ME AGAIN

warnings: smut, voyeurism (without consent), masturbation, reader doesn’t have a specified gender (but is probably mostly seen as afab)

—

You’re Obi-Wan’s lover and best friends with his ex-padawan Anakin. The three of you are incredibly close, always getting along. Anakin is aware of Obi-Wan and yours’ secret tryst-relationship-thing going on, but can’t help but start to become infatuated with you as well.

Of course, he keeps this to himself because he loves Obi-Wan, but sometimes the selfish thoughts would plague him as he wonders if Obi-Wan was worth your time, worth your love. A little voice inside him says no, I’m better for them, but then his rationale would rebuke him, stating that this thought path would only lead him down to trouble, that he must accept his brother got to you first.

But one night, Anakin passes by your room on his way to bed when he heard you mumble something inside, perhaps to someone. His curiosity gets the better of him, and he backpedals to linger behind your closed door. He waits to see if he’ll hear anything else, and when he does…

“Obi-Wan- oh, yes, please right there..”

Jealousy envelopes his entire being, eating away at his insides. He can’t help it, no matter how many times he’d fought himself over thoughts of you, told himself that you chose his master instead of him, he couldn’t come to accept it. He wanted you, he wanted you so fucking badly. And every time he had to look into your eyes or talk to you was true suffering for him, knowing he can never have you.

Even when envy stung his heart, he didn’t leave. He stayed- god knows why- to listen to your cries of pleasure, to treasure your sounds for a later time for himself. You sounded perfect, even better than he had imagined when he coaxed a weak, lonely pleasure out of himself on lonely nights. Thank god Obi-Wan was mostly silent, just a heavy breather, so Anakin could focus on you.

He could hear when your skin slapped against each other, could hear the wet sounds coming from you, and he soon found himself stiff and incredibly uncomfortable in his pants.

“Fuck…” he whispered.

Anakin’s thoughts run wild, knowing what he was thinking and planning to do was completely wrong and horrible, but the lust permeating his body and brain clouded his rationale as his hand trailed down to cup the tent of his pants.

Suddenly noises of movement come from the room, and his ears perk up to try to picture what was going on behind that door. Soon enough, the slapping noises were back again and louder than before- maybe even faster. This time you were moaning and gasping for breath, Anakin could only imagine what was happening to you. Probably getting your back blown out.

He strokes himself harder at that thought, silently wishing he could see you.

An absolutely devilish idea crosses his mind, but he’s quick to dismiss it.

That’s too far… right?

Look at what you’re doing right now, you pervert.

It’s true, if that’s too far, then what’s this?

The Jedi purses his lips in frustration, arguing with himself in his head with your erotic moans as background music.

Fuck it, if he can’t ever have you, at least he should be able to see you, just once.

Pausing all movement, he connects with the force, and as gently and as quietly as humanly possible, he uses it to nudge the door ajar just enough for him to peak. When he peers through..

Holy fuck. Holy fucking shit.

Obi-Wan’s got you on all fours, pounding into you with his hands gripping tight onto your hips, guiding you to bounce on his cock over and over again. Your back is arched perfectly, your face in complete bliss as it’s angled towards the ceiling.

Anakin’s own dick pulses with a new wave of need, so he quickly shoves his hand down his trousers and fists himself, sucking back any noise that might escape his throat. He would do anything in the galaxy to be the one right there thrusting wildly into you, he’d make you feel so good. Better than Obi-Wan. He’d be making you scream.

Obi-Wan leans over and grips the back of your neck to push your face into the covers, causing you to whimper. Now he’s got a hold your neck and your hip, and as he lifts a leg up to create a better angle, he groans and falls back into your previous pace. You squeal at the change, clearly very much enjoying everything your lover was doing.

How does Obi-Wan even know what to do, for kriff’s sake? The spark of jealousy reignites once again, but Anakin pushes it back so he can chase his release.

It only took a few more minutes before you started crying out again.

“Obi- Obi I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna-“

The sight of you releasing was one he desperately soaked in, quickly watching every inch of your body as it spasmed and shook from the strength of your orgasm.

Anakin was pumping himself harder and faster, unbothered if he was leaking all over his himself, feeling that knot grow taut within him until he witnessed Obi-Wan push himself as deep as he could go within you, coaxing one last cry out of you and inevitably pushing Anakin over the edge as well. Ropes of cum coated the inside of his pants, as that euphoric sensation washed over him. He relished in it, picturing that he had just came inside you instead, but as soon as the feeling came it was gone, and the horrid reality of what he had done set in.

Fuck.

sleepyhead | gale dekarios x afab!reader

(18+!!!) afab!reader. second person pov. literally just smut: oral (f receiving), piv, dirty talk, consensual somnophilia. gale lives to please as always

my first gale fic... this man has taken over my entire life.

2k words

Gale’s lips press against yours in the dark, gentle and coaxing. A push and pull. You blink blearily awake from slumber as his hand finds your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your sleep shift. His brown hair falls over the two of you like a curtain, shielding you from the terrors of the darkness.  

“Mm hello,” you purr against his lips. “What time is it?” You ask when he pulls back. He looks a bit wild, pupils blown wide, his eyes practically look black even in the dim candlelight. He’s breathing heavily, his gaze traveling over you, heated, like the air surrounding fire. He doesn’t answer. 

“Gale?” you repeat, warmth pooling in your belly at the pure desperation on his face. At the want curling in his eyes like a flame.

“It’s late,” he murmurs, voice rough, as though he’s parched. “Though I cannot stop thinking about you. I must…” he trails off, mind moving faster than his mouth can.

One thing you love about Gale is his ability to talk for seemingly hours on end with such eloquence and poetry. But when he’s like this…already hard against your thigh, slowly rutting his hips in circles, captured within pleasure, the words seem to leave him. You love it just as much, if not more. 

He leans in and runs his nose along your throat, breath ghosting over your skin. His teeth graze you, and his tongue follows, licking a stripe up your throat. You moan shakily, cunt clenching around nothing. 

“What’s gotten into you?” You ask, though it’s more breath than substance. Your brain is already beginning to short circuit, especially when the hand on your waist travels down to your thigh, fingertips pressing into the muscle there. 

“You just looked so beautiful on the battlefield today… I tried to contain myself because we had so much to do, but… fuck,” he breathes this against your neck, desperate. He hardly ever uses such vulgar language. “I need you, love.” 

“So you really weren’t lying when you told me you were turned on by my fighting,” you say, surprised.

“I am a lot of things, darling, but a liar is not one of them.”

The sound of his inhale as he leans down to kiss you again sends more molten pleasure swirling through you. 

His hips press against yours, grinding against your clothed cunt in a steady rhythm. You moan into his mouth, your hands reaching up to clench at his sleep shirt stretched over his broad back. 

You’re still sleepy as his hand drifts to the hem of your shift. He slowly pulls it up your thighs, up over your breasts, revealing your undergarments. He paws at your waistband like a cat begging for food. You lift your hips so he can pull them down over your ass. He undoes the ties to your bralette and slides it off your shoulders. 

Gale kisses his way down your body, stopping to close his warm mouth over a nipple while his dexterous hand squeezes and tugs at the other. You moan lightly, pleasure easing through you. He hums appreciatively against your skin, and the vibrations travel pleasantly through you.

“Gale…” you half murmur half moan as he moves his mouth to your other nipple. “I can hardly stay awake…” You feel yourself slipping in and out of consciousness. The gentle chirping of the crickets outside your tent doesn’t help.

“Of course,” he says, leaning back. “We can stop.”

“No—no wait,” you stop him with a hand curled around his wrist. “You can keep going while I’m sleeping, I don’t mind.” 

His eyes darken, his tongue dipping out to wet his lips. “Really? Are you quite sure?”

You nod with a sleepy smile and settle back comfortably. “Mhm.” 

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he says, pressing another kiss to your lips. 

Your eyes flutter shut, your breathing slowing as you succumb to your exhaustion. Your limbs feel heavy, even as Gale continues his way down your body. 

“You’re so gorgeous, so perfect,” he whispers into your skin. His fingers curl into your thighs before he slowly pulls them apart, baring yourself to him.

He runs his hands appreciatively up and down your thighs, squeezing and kneading before hooking them over his shoulders.

Gale presses a kiss to the inside of your right thigh before retreating. You feel his lips again a second later, just between your thigh and cunt, mere centimeters from where you’re wet and aching for him.

And then you feel his warm breath puffing against your core, and your body squirms impatiently. You peek an eye open to watch him.

He looks so handsome as he glances up at you, eyes soft, mouth twitched into a smirk. “I thought you were going to sleep.”

“I am,” you reply, closing your eyes again. “Just wanted to admire the view one last time.” 

He chuckles lowly, “Sweet dreams, darling.”

He doesn’t move for a while, and you find yourself drifting off in the stillness. Your breathing slows, your mind growing quiet as sleep takes over you.

---

The moment your breaths even out as your hands fall slack against your sides, Gale presses his face between your thighs. He uses the flat of his tongue to lick a long, hot stripe through your folds. You taste delicious on his tongue, and gods you’re so wet. You’re soaking his beard, and he’s hardly been between your thighs for longer than ten seconds.

He doesn’t care. You keep releasing cute little moans in your sleep as he takes you apart brick by brick. Or rather… lick by lick.

His hands grip your waist, keeping you close. Your hips buck involuntarily to meet his mouth, grinding against his face. Even in your sleep you’re seeking out pleasure from him. 

God forbid he won’t deliver.

He pulls back one of his hands to slide a finger into you. It goes easily. He adds another without any resistance. You’re so incredibly wet. He wants to remain between your thighs forever. Your sweet, slick arousal runs down his hand to his wrist, and he bends his head to lick it off. 

His hips rut against the floor of his tent, the act of eating you out so arousing to him he has to seek his own pleasure to mitigate the pain. He doesn’t mind. He’d rather see you cum over and over again before he ever does.

He slowly thrusts his fingers into you while mouthing at your clit, delighting in your shaky breaths and wanton moans. You look gorgeous, brows screwed together, sweat beading on your temple. You’re going to wake up soon, and damnit he’ll make sure it’s while you’re cumming.

---

Warmth kindles between your thighs, pleasure and arousal pooling deep in your belly, tingling in your toes and rising through you.

Sleep drifts away from you, hanging onto the recesses of your mind, but ultimately not strong enough against the building pleasure you feel. 

You chase the feeling, the promise of sweet release. Your surroundings slowly begin to materialize around you. The feeling of your bedroll clenched between your fingers, the undeniable feeling of a mouth between your legs, the sound of low, rumbling, appreciative moans that vibrate through you.

Even the sound of your own cries are registering in your mind. 

The melting pleasure collapses into one pinpoint. A supernova explodes within you as your clit is sucked diligently while the two, long fingers buried inside you hook to press against your g-spot. 

Your back bows, eyes flying open as you cum against Gale’s warm and inviting mouth with a cry of his name. He guides you through it with gentle laps of his tongue through your folds. He mumbles words of encouragement, but they’re lost against your skin. 

“Fuck,” you breathe. “Gale.”

“Mm.” You can practically feel his pride radiating off of him from making you come. 

He continues to lick you through it until you’re coming again, hands fisted in his hair as his lips suck once more on your clit, his fingers fucking into you. Your legs quiver atop his shoulders, your mind utterly fucked into emptiness.

When it’s all too much you push him away, breathing heavily, contented tears in your eyes.

“Holy shit,” you huff, trying to catch your breath. “Maybe you should wake me up like that more often.”

His eyes sparkle excitedly. “If that is what you wish, I’d be glad to.” 

“You are such a giver. You really should let me take care of you sometimes.”

He shrugs. “I like giving. It brings me great pleasure to reside between your thighs for as long as you can stand.”

You sigh at his fanciful words, but you appreciate his adoration all the same. He crawls forward as you lean up to kiss him, the taste of yourself on his tongue rekindling the fire in your gut. His hand winds its way into your hair, the other squeezes your hip. 

“I need you inside me,” you whisper against his lips. “Now.” 

He groans, fingers flexing in your hair. Your body jolts with arousal at the sweet tug. 

“Say no more,” Gale says. “Your wish is my command.”

He takes off his trousers then rolls you onto your stomach. His hands grip your hips, pulling your ass up and backwards, and his knee comes between your thighs to press them apart. 

He guides the head of his cock through your slick folds and your hips squirm in anticipation.

He leans across your back, pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade. “I wish you could see yourself on the battlefield. The way you look with someone else’s blood on your armor… The flush on your cheeks… The way you breathe… You’re so capable, so strong. I cannot help but stare.”

He eases his cock inside you and the two of you moan in tandem at the delightful feeling. Him, at your warmth. You, at the undeniable feeling of being filled. 

He bites lightly at your shoulder before whispering in your ear. “Sometimes I wish I could take you right there. In front of all of our friends and dead foes.”

You clench around him at his words, and he groans, hips snapping forward. You jolt against the bedroll, elbows digging into the feather down material. 

“Gale,” you whimper. 

He hums, “Yes. You’d be saying my name just. Like. That.” He delivers those three last words with hard thrusts, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing in the tent. 

He builds up the pace, fucking into you steadily. Your cheek squishes against your pillow as he fills you, your mind still sleepy but undeniably consumed by lust and love.

“What do you think? Would you like that, love? Would you like to be fucked in front of all our companions?” 

“Yes,” you breathe. “Yes, please, Gale. Need you—“

“Mm, that’s it,” he murmurs. His hand skates across your stomach as his warm fingers settle over your clit. “As much as I’d love to indulge the fantasy, I’m not sure I’d want them to watch.” 

He begins to circle your clit with reverence, in time with his thrusts as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

“I want you all to myself,” he grits. 

You cry out, melting against him, knees buckling as you reach your release. It rips through you, hard and fast. Unrelenting. A wildfire raging through your nerves. 

Gale chases after his own climax, thrusts growing sloppy and deeper, moans and praises spilling from his lips before he finally cums inside you, hips twitching. 

Your body trembles as the aftershocks roll through you. 

You collapse onto the bedroll, breathing heavily, and Gale pulls you into him. You both lie on your sides, him softening inside you. He buries kisses into your neck, his arms wrapped around your waist. 

“Are you all right?” he asks you, his thumb brushing comfortingly along your rib cage. 

“So good,” you respond, brain blissfully empty, as if the tadpole never existed. You already feel sleep crawling across your mind again, pulling you under. You yawn and grin happily, like a cat that’s gotten its warm milk. 

“Going back to bed already?” he teases, leaning up to press a kiss to your cheek. “I wear you out that much?” 

“Mhmm…”

“All right. Go to sleep darling. I’ll clean you up.”

You’re already halfway asleep when you feel his tongue dip into you once more, licking his cum out from inside you—

Oh well. You can catch up on sleep tomorrow.

all you had to do was ask

-Present Mic x f!reader-

small smut drabble

Closing your eyes, you relaxed and listened to the video, stroking yourself.

“Aren’t you too sweet-”

You slammed the laptop closed and squeezed your legs together.

“-getting yourself all ready for me.” Hizashi flung his jacket to the side. “What were you lookin’ at, hmmm?” He grinned, looking your body up and down while slowly undoing his belt.

Keep reading

Yandere Mr Compress (Part 1?)

My first ever fanfiction, enjoy and please let me know if you want more! I may be continuing this.

TW Kidnapping

—————————————————————————————————-

It starts off very innocent. You’re walking back to your apartment after a long day at work and you find a bouquet of flowers sitting at your doorstep. Puzzled, but somewhat excited, you pick them up and take them inside, setting them on your kitchen counter. You check the card “Your beauty is like the waves of the ocean, relentless, wondrous, and potentially disastrous to a poor, lost soul like mine.” It isn’t signed. You could, of course, take this note the wrong way, how could beauty be disastrous? But you figure it just came from an especially stricken admirer. You haven’t had an admirer since high school, how could you not find it sweet? Smiling, you set the card to the side and arrange the flowers on your dinner table. It’s a nice gesture, you assure yourself.

A few days pass and you’re unconcerned about this “admirer”. In fact, it puts a little pep in your step, so to speak. So far, you’ve received the flowers, a teddy bear, a box of chocolates, and of course the usual unsigned notes. Nothing too strange or alarming. But today was a little different. You come home to find a small red box waiting for you. You take it inside, eagerly rip it open, and find a gold necklace with a heart pendant. Your stomach drops a little. This is expensive. Not only that, but you were just eyeing it the other day, thinking about buying it for yourself for your birthday next week. But it’s not like anyone would have noticed that, right? Whoever the admirer is, he must have just seen it and figured it would be nice, right? You set it aside, pour yourself a glass of wine, and put it out of your mind.

The week passes without any more gifts. You’re a little disappointed, but also somewhat relieved. Maybe the admirer just lost interest. Anyway, it’s your birthday and you’re going out tonight, so you’re excited. You go on your usual lunch break to your usual coffee shop, order your usual cappuccino extra foam, and walk outside. You always take an alley back to work, it’s quick and it’s not even a dangerous area, there are heroes everywhere. You’re so absorbed in thinking about your work, the proposal is due today, you don’t even notice the man standing in the shadows with a Rorschach mask and yellow trench coat. But his voice pulls you out of your thoughts. 

“You’re not wearing it.”

You stop in your tracks. “E-excuse me?” you ask, without turning around.

“The necklace.”

Your heart stops.

“You haven’t worn it at all. I thought you’d like it. I saw you looking at it and smiling.”

Run. You have to run. Or call for a hero, just DO something. You open your mouth, but by the time you even think to scream for help, you’re breathing in a chemical-soaked rag. And you’re out.

—————————————————————————————————-

When you wake up, you have a headache. You don’t really remember what happened, did you have a bad dream? Did you end up going out with your friends? You look around for some water, aspirin… your phone? Anything? Your mind finally clears and you realize, this is not your room. The bed is huge, probably a king. The sheets are regal, red satin with a maroon fleur de lis pattern. Where the fuck are you? You begin to panic and try to get up, before realizing you’ve been tied to the dark, oak bed frame. Shit.

The events of earlier today begin to return to you. The coffee, the alleyway, the man. He was the one. The admirer. He WAS watching you. You look around frantically, looking for anything to cut the restraints. The room offers no solution. No way out. You can feel the tears starting to prick at the corners of your eyes as the bedroom door opens.

“Ah, you’re awake.”

You turn your head to meet the voice, a tall man wearing an orange button up shirt with a bolo tie, black vest, and black dress pants. Even after having the audacity to kidnap you, he still hides his face underneath a black balaclava mask.

“I do apologize for the restraints, but I’m afraid I just can not let you run off. Not when I’ve gone to all this trouble to acquire you.”

“Acquire me?” you spit. “What am I, a Picasso?”

He laughs, a real, genuine laugh, like you’re on stage at open mic night. “A Picasso? Oh dear, no, you are so much more beautiful than that.”

You blush, despite yourself, but continue to glare at the man. Who does he think he is? You don’t expect a real answer, but you do ask him, “Who are you?”

“Forgive me, where are my manners?” He says with a smile. He flourishes his hand down into a deep bow, “Some call me Mr. Compress, but you, my dear, may call me Atsuhiro.”

The feminine urge to be fucked stupid by a bulky, dominant and protective fictional man with big tits.

Dabi and Tomura (poly or separately) are all about that forced intimacy, and will get it from their Darling no matter what. You're not sleeping in the bed if you're gonna flinch and shrink away when he moves to get close to you. You don't want to shower with him? Oh, guess you aren't showering at all until you stop being stubborn. Turning your head when he goes to move/lick a bit of stray food off of your lips? No meals for the next day, and the day after THAT you're getting tied up so you have to let him give you food. Tomura and Dabi both think of themselves as monsters, and if they have to let that side of them show a bit more to force their darling into being affectionate or to just stop fighting them, they will. They're more stubborn than you, they're stronger than you, and they're more terrifying than you can ever hope to be. Now stop fucking squirming and hug me back like you mean it, goddammit.

can i ask for something fluffy for Mori with a s / o who enters the room in the middle of a meeting asking for affection?

♡ Mori Ougai ♡

The Port Mafia held countless meetings, even if they were usually "check up" meetings of sorts, just making sure that everything was in order and was running smoothly. The most serious meetings were held when the Guild was still attacking Yokohama but thanks to its demise, meetings have thankfully become a lot less tense. They are all still regardless very, very boring.

As the head of the Port Mafia, it is Mori's duty to attend every single meeting regardless of how he feels, and he usually has no qualms about this. Mori cares about his subordinates very much and he's happy to see that they're all in good spirits... That doesn't change the fact that Mori wants his darling there next to him, her presence always so comforting. Mori usually can't afford himself the luxury of dozing off on these meetings but whenever the executies start bickering is when Mori starts twirling his scalpel and his mind immediately goes back to you - it's always you, isn't it? Mori laughs at himself a little, amused by the fact that one person can make hin feel so soft and gentle. The shouts of the executives fills the room but Mori blocks them out, somehow. He didn't even notice that the commotion had died down a bit, his little dove entering the room.

He still had that lovesick grin on his face once he saw his little dove, even if it was laced with a little bit of confusion. You never really exited your room, let alone enter a meeting without him summoning you. But when your arms were draped around his, a small pout on your pretty lips as you sat on his lap, Mori knew - you wanted his attention.

He can't help but to coo a little, a soft blush creeping its way on his pale cheeks. Some people in the room are quiet, most groan, while others also think it's cute. They wouldn't admit that out loud though...

The meeting continues on, but Mori is obviously in a much better mood. He wouldn't mind if you did this more in the future, regardless of the severity of the meeting. Sure, he might scold his darling but never punish over something like this. Who knows, his beloved might get a dress or two, or three...