Thread by @kaacchaann, #MiriTama, .Consider: Tamaki being so shy that even though he literally marries [...]

#MiriTama,

.

Consider: Tamaki being so shy that even though he literally marries Mirio, he still has the hardest time letting his husband know when he needs things. Especially intimate…attention. Sex. I’m talking about the secks.

CWs: vouyerism & masturbation & sex.

Like, let’s say Mirio gets home from hero-ing and as soon as he opens the front door, he’s hearing these hushed, frantic moans coming from upstairs.

And at first, his heart fucking /drops/ because his big dumb boy brain jumped to conclusions and assumed Amajiki was up there with someone.

He's about to sprint up there, but when he steps further into the house, he can hear him more clearly:

“Mm—my fuckin’ god, yes, /Mirio/,” Amajiki’s wobbly voice is wrecked, high-pitched and whiny, and Mirio realizes that his husband is upstairs, in their bed, masturbating.

He has to blink a few times to calm down, but when he does, heat washes over him.

Mirio knows that it's his husband up there, but it still feels just a tad bit wrong...Amajiki clearly is doing /that/ in the privacy of their bedroom, without him, for a reason...right?

A long, wanton cry of his name floats down the stairs, and it feels like it's a collar being shackled on Mirio's neck, yanking him to the foot of the stairway.

“Just like that, Mir,” he hears his husband beg—and now he’s taking the stairs two at a time, trying his best to get up there quickly, but not disturb him. As much as he wants to /join/, he also kinda wants to just /watch/.

Peaking through the cracked door, Mirio almost melts. Amajiki’s sitting in the middle of their bed, one leg bent and the other slung in the crook of his elbow, while one hand curls at the head his cock and the other pumps three sinfully wet fingers into his body.

He looks so /cute/, Mirio thinks. His eyebrows are pinched up in the center, his eyes half-lidded, and there’s a gorgeous blush across his face, all the way to the tips of those pointy ears.

He's panting as though he's been at it, unsuccessfully, for a while now.

Mirio watches intently as those eyes grow frustrated—his fingers just weren’t long enough, not /thick/ enough. He can see it on his face, in the way he tries to push them deeper and deeper, whining when he just /baaaarely/ touches somewhere that makes his eyes roll back.

The whole thing is a big fat pat on the back to Mirio, who can’t help but grin. He's spoiled his husband rotten, and now he's unable to do this without him, probably imagining his cock to get off.

His own cock is fully hard now, ready at any minute to intervene and put the poor hero out of his misery. But Mirio waits, wanting to see how desperate Amajiki would get.

They’ve got toys—literally in the nightstand just a few feet away—but Amajiki just spreads his legs wider, pushing his fingers deeper, to no avail.

"Just a little more, /please/," Amajiki tosses his head back, begging.

Then, Mirio almost gasps when his husband flips over, face pressed against the mattress, and reaches between his legs to put those fingers right back into his hole. The arch of his back is perfect, and Mirio can’t help but palm himself.

He slips his pinky in, as well, and it seems the sting of the stretch makes him moan Mirio’s name harshly.

"Fuck," He whines, still not satisfied. "Fuckfuck/fuck/."

He flips over again, laying on his back and raking his hand over his chest, over his nipples, then back down.

When his eyes flit down to his cock again, he locks eyes with Mirio standing in the doorway.

"SHIT," He yelps, scrambling to cover himself with a blanket.

TBC after another nap lol

Okie, I'm feelin' this thread again. Let's get it!

CWs (again, since it's been a minute): vouyerism, masturbation & a little bit of a daddy-kink thing.

“Mirio—I,” Amajiki mumbles, clutching the blanket close to his sides. "You're...early."

“Yeah. I'm sorry. " Mirio says, but his voice is husky and harsh, and /anything/ but sorry. “I—I was going to let you finish.”

There’s a fevered blush tinting his face again, much brighter than it had been before. His grip on the blanket loosens, and it slips a little, to reveal a smooth, pale shoulder.

“I—I don’t think I was going to.”

Mirio blinks at him.

Amajiki looks away, getting redder by the second, "I just can't seem to get there without you."

Pride swells in Mirio's chest, stealing his air and making him feel lightheaded. His brain is swimming in his growing ego, but he still hears Amajiki whisper his name again.

"Yeah, baby?" He whispers back, watching a strong, lean leg slip out from under the blanket. The fabric is still bunched over his crotch, so Mirio can't see the sticky mess he knows is there, but he can see the way his thighs slip open.

An invitation, he realizes.

Mirio's eyes snap up to his husband's. He's already pulling his shirt over his head and kneeling into the foot of the bed. "I think I can help with that."

Pulling the blanket away from Amajikis flushed skin feels a lot like unwrapping a present, Mirio thinks, especially when the cool air touches his chest and his nipples perk up.

Their lips move together passionately, but not at all rushed. Mirio palms Amajiki's chest, gently.

He's kicking down his pants in a second too, because he'd been right—Amajiki /had/ been trying to get off for a hot minute, and it's made him impatient. A set of nimble fingers dive under Mirio's waistband and wrap around his cock eagerly.

Mirio can't help but smile against his husband's lips, "Look at you. So keyed-up,"

Amajiki cries out when Mirio's big fingers slide between his legs. "Please,"

Mirio mouths down Amajiki's neck teasingly, "Hm, 'please' who?"

"More! Please, Mirio," He gasps again at the third finger slipping in easily.

So Mirio sits back on his heels, looking down at his husband, glistening in sex-sweat and growls, "I'm gonna take care of you, don't worry."

Mirio pushes those long legs up—folding Amajiki damn near in half by doing so—until his thighs are touching his chest, and leans forward to drape his calves over his shoulders.

Slowly, Mirio sinks into Amajiki's sloppy wet hole, watching his dark eyes roll back in bliss.

As soon as he's fully seated, he doesn't hesitate to pull right back out with a quick, sudden jerk—which makes Amajiki bawl—but just as quickly, he slams back in, sending the headboard cracking into the wall.

Amajiki's shaky voice moans out, "Ohmygod, yes, /Daddy/,"

And it doesn't matter how many times Amajiki moans it, or cries it, or fucking /screams/ it, Mirio will never fail to /adore/ his husband calling him 'Daddy'. It lights every one of his bones on fire. He's literally balls-deep inside him, and they both still need /more/.

Mirio moves presses his full weight against Amajiki, the way he knows the raven-haired hero loves, so he can curl a big palm around his neck.

Kissing him hard, he asks against his lips, "You like when Daddy fucks you silly, don't you, baby?"

He nods, but Mirio tightens his grip and slows his strokes, so he scrambles, "Yes—Yes! Yes, please, Daddy," He tries his hardest to lean forward and chase Mirio's lips, but the blond teases him, pulling just far away to prevent it, dropping their foreheads together instead.

Some combination of being close enough to see the determined glint in Mirio's eyes, the hand on his throat, Mirio's weight over him, and his cock /railing/ him so perfectly, sends him right up to the edge.

"M'gonna come," His eyes flutter, but he tries to focus on Mirio's, "Mmn, let me come, Daddy,"

And he's not far behind him, straining out, "So fucking pretty," and swiping his hand up to grab Amajiki's jaw. "Go on. Come for me, baby."

And he does—the cry gets caught in his throat, and he's panting and his legs are shaking on Mirio's shoulders. Mirio follows seconds later, kissing his husband so hard they're both out of breath afterwards.

Gently, Mirio sets Amajiki's legs down onto the sheets, kissing his knees, his calves, and the tops of his feet. Amajiki is beat—blissfully fucked out and still buzzing from his orgasm.

And boy is Mirio proud.

"That was a good one, huh?" His ego just keeps expanding.

"Mhm, c'mere." Amajiki nods, making grabby hands at him.

They're both sticky and hot, but Mirio crawls over him, kissing his way up. His big forearms bracket Amajiki's head, letting him give a barrage of forehead kisses.

Mirio grins, and his voice is husky again, "I didn't even have to /touch/ you this time."

A tinge of pink surfaces on Amajiki's cheeks again, and he throws an arm over his face to hide. "It's /your/ fault!"

The blond laughs, and ducks his head, attempting to burrow under Amajiki's arm until he erupts into giggles, too.

Spoiling his husband was /definitely/ not something he'd mind taking responsibility for.

[END] If you stuck around 'til the end of this thread ty for readinggggg

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