Fatgum bench pressing Mirko. Just- this huge beast of a man mounting her. He feels heavy on top of her, so much she almost can't breathe. When she is on top, she goes fast. When he is on top, he fucks her slow. As if he wanted to torture her: she can feel every inch+
of that massive cock ripping her insides.
It feels like it takes forever. Her orgasm builds up and she's screaming, first taunting him, but Fatgum never takes the bait. He keeps his pace steady but brutal, plays with her breasts, his hands so massive he can massage them both+
with one, while his other hand holds her hips in place.
She hates him while it happens, but the pay off is fucking worth it: she comes with her whole body, toes curling and body shaking and growls breaking her throat. She's pretty sure she kicks, too, but her leg rarely does+
any harm, either getting lost in the air or sinking in his fat.
And that's one of the reasons why she keeps visiting Osaka.
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Tamaki jolts, his hands clinging to this guy's shoulders to steady himself. They break the kiss with a wet 'pop.' The sound reminds Tamaki of the champagne- he /probably/ shouldn't+
shouldn't have mixed that with beer. And he definitely shouldn't have mixed the two together with sake. He's way drunker than he thought. The room wavers when he moves, and he has to cling to the guy's shoulders to try and stay in two feet.
The guy he was kissing (Dai? Tai?) doesn't seem to mind. His body is a tad lankier than Tamaki would've liked, but he still feels solid, with big hands that close on Tamaki's ass. Kissing him was good, too: a little too wet, but hot. His breath tastes of+
Mirio has a knack for voyeurism. He likes the idea if being watched. Whenever Tamaki is inside him, he likes to close his eyes and imagine a crowd watching him. He imagines the hundreds, maybe thousands of hands flying off to+
so many strangers' pants: hundreds or thousands of people jerking off to /him/.
At a point, Tamaki starts watching conferences. Mirio has no idea why he wants to hear people talk about science stuff when they're not at school, but it works wonders for his kink. Whenever Tamaki+
plays those, he locks himself off in the nearest bathroom to jerk off, imagining himself in the middle of a lecture, naked, his boyfriend's hand lazily curled around his cock to distract him, almost nonchalantly, as if he was an annoying pet asking for attention. He always+
Mirio fucking Tamaki between classes. Breaks are risky, so they just get permission to go to the bathroom around the same time.
Nothing to help with anxiety like being fucked hard and deep against the nearest surface.
At first, they'd fuck on top of one of the sinks. Tamaki would bend over, red-faced, and shiver as Mirio's calloused hands undo his belt and pull down his pants. He'd shiver as his boyfriend prods his ass with his tongue, tasting whatever Tamaki prepped himself with+
that morning. Mirio would the flavor against his hole again and again as he kneaded the skin of Tamaki's ass, all to uncover that pink hole, already gaping and clenching on nothing. He'd get his tongue there, in and out, until Tamaki begged. And then he would fuck him like+
Mirai's shoulders tense, just as he closes the zipper of his last suitcase. He scolds himself on his foolishness — did he really think he'd be able to avoid Toshinori? Was he really planning to leave their apartment+
like a robber in the night? To disappear without giving the other man an explanation?
Apparently, he was.
He turns around, feeling his heart clench in his chest when he catches sight of Toshinori. They left him out of the hospital, so he's wearing regular civilian+
clothes: jeans and a t-shirt. Mirai wishes he could only see that: the expansion of his muscles under the t-shirt and those strong thighs on the jeans. He wishes he couldn't see the deep dark circles under his eyes, or those thin lines exhaustion is already drawing+
Tamaki wonders if he knows; how hard it is to resist that smile when he uses its full power.
He probably doesn't.
He sighs again, toying with the hem of his gloves. He really shouldn't. Taking off his gloves feels wrong, worse than being completely naked.
He bites his bottom lip, trying to think of what to do. He knows Mirio likes to see his scales, specially under the sunlight. He likes the colors. Tamaki likes them too, but he likes them alone in his room, when he can look at the colors without fearing they'll be seen+