#like going head to head with shimizaki without waiting for the others

[hongherbac]

[Shimamine] Domestic Sex

Read it on AO3

Rating: Mature Fandom: Mob Psycho 100 Relationship: Minegishi Toshiki/Shimazaki Ryou Additional Tags: Smut, Fluff and Smut, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Light Bondage, Tentacles, Come Eating, Teasing, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Established Relationship

Words: 2,948

Summary: Minegishi gave Shimazaki a blowjob. Shimazaki gave Minegishi a handjob. You know, just some usual stuffs couples do.

Domestic Sex

　　It was an ordinary evening on a work day. They had come home from work, finished dinner, washed the dishes, and were now idly passing time in the living room. Minegishi was reading that same plant illustration again—he had probably flipped through it over hundreds of times, to the point where he had memorized exactly which plant appeared on which page. And yet, he kept reading it over and over again. Shimazaki turned on the stereo, playing instrumental jazz (Minegishi hated hearing human voices while resting). Light piano notes bounced playfully, blending with the saxophone and drums that filled their apartment.

　　Shimazaki had a small collection of music albums. Just as he didn't understand the plants Minegishi tended to on the balcony, Minegishi had no interest in his taste in music.

　　It was a perfectly ordinary evening on a work day, just like any other.

　　Minegishi was focused on his book when Shimizaki sat down beside him on the couch, making the cushions dip slightly under his weight. Shimazaki leaned over, wrapped his arms around Minegishi from behind, resting his head on the curve of his boyfriend’s shoulder like a little bird. His nose brushed lightly against Minegishi’s cheek.

　　"Minegishi," Shimazaki whined softly, "I want to make love with you."

　　Minegishi gave a slight pause. "Now?"

　　"May I?"

　　"I'm not prepared for anything."

　　"I can wait for you."

　　"But I was planning to finish this chapter today." Minegishi said. The plant illustration was arranged according to scientific classification, and what he meant was to finish reading about the family—Apocynaceae, a group of highly poisonous plants. It wasn’t hard to see why Minegishi found them fascinating. 

　　Sex was time-consuming itself, and for two men, the preparation was even more troublesome. 

　　"Maybe another day. Tell me earlier next time."

　　Shimazaki pouted. It wasn’t like this was something he could plan in advance… He let out a small, disappointed smile and scratched his nose. His body had just started heating up, but it seemed like it wouldn’t be put to use tonight.

　　"All right. I'll go take care of it myself."

　　He let go of his boyfriend and got up from the couch, heading toward the bathroom. Just as he took a step forward, he felt a slight tug on his clothes. Minegishi hadn’t lifted his gaze from his book, but his left hand had caught the hem of Shimizaki’s shirt, his expression as indifferent as ever. If not for Shimizaki’s extraordinarily sharp senses, he might not have noticed the faint pink blush on his boyfriend's cheeks. (That is to say, the temperature of his cheeks had risen just a little.)

　　"If you can wait thirty minutes," Minegishi said, his tone as flat as always, "I’ll use my mouth."

　　Shimazaki broke into a goofy, almost childish smile, leaning down to give his boyfriend a quick kiss on the cheek.

　　"I’ll go take a shower."

　　Half an hour later, Minegishi placed a bookmark in his book, closed the plant illustration, and walked into their bedroom.

　　Shimazaki had just gotten out of the shower. His body was still warm with steam, and his damp hair hung messily over his forehead. Dressed in loose gray cotton pajamas, he stood by the bed, listening to something on his phone through his earphones (which may or may not have been related to his work—the government's psychic crime department. Shimazaki's attitude toward his job had always been rather fickle).

　　"Take a chair."

　　Minegishi commanded as he walked over to the closet, pulling open the bottom drawer and taking out a bottle of lubricant.

　　Shimazaki did as he was told. He placed a towel on the chair, pulled off his pajama pants, revealing his boxer briefs underneath. His erection, which had just briefly calmed down, stirred once again, half-hard beneath the thin fabric.

　　"Hands behind you."

　　The plant on the nightstand grew rapidly, vines snaking their way toward Shimazaki, curling around his wrists as he placed them behind the chair, like some living, supple ropes. This wasn’t real restraint—they both knew that Shimazaki could easily break free or teleport away. In fact, the vines were so gentle that they felt more like a strange sort of embrace. They coiled around Shimazaki’s palms, thick and firm, making him instinctively grip them tightly.

　　Minegishi watched him like an artist appraising his own floral arrangement. Then, somewhat belatedly, he asked, "... Are you okay with this?"

　　"As long as you like." Shimazaki smiled.

　　Cupping Shimizaki’s face, Minegishi’s fingers slipped through his still-damp black hair, before leaning in to give him a deep, soft, lingering kiss. Shimizaki relaxed, letting Minegishi take the lead. Their lips touched, almost exchanging each other's breath. At the same time, the vine wriggled again and extended more branches.

　　Some slender, downy vines slipped beneath his pajama top at the waist, crawling over his body, his chest, his sides, his belly, tickling him with the lightest touch. The fuzz was dense and soft, creating a soft, teasing sensation, like feathers brushing against him—so faint it was almost not there, yet maddeningly present. They didn’t spare a single inch of skin, lingering especially around his chest, occasionally brushing against his now-sensitive nipples. Minegishi’s fingertips glided down his thigh, from his knee to the crease where his legs met, dangerously close to the heat that had been steadily building, only to pull away, just at the last moment.

　　It felt good, but wasn’t enough. It only left Shimazaki wanting more.

　　Minegishi’s kisses trailed downward, brushing along Shimizaki’s jawline, then down to the slender curve of his neck. He kissed the side of his throat, right where the pulse beat steadily beneath the skin, like a vampire savoring his prey. Then, finally, Minegishi pulled back, lowering his gaze to the bulge in Shimizaki’s boxers, where a damp spot had already darkened the fabric.

　　"Look at you," Minegishi said. "Now you have another pair of underwear to wash."

　　"It’s not like you’re the one doing the laundry." Shimazaki smiled, pretending his cheeks weren’t burning hot. Damn. He wasn’t supposed to be the type to get embarrassed so easily—but somehow, Minegishi always stirred something in him with the plainest of words.

　　"Hm. I’ll hold you to that."

　　Minegishi pulled down Shimazaki's boxers, exposing his erection. He poured some lubricant into his palm, not bothering to warm it up, before gliding his fingers lightly over the length, teasingly slow, as if soothing an impatient child—but unfortunately, this kind of “soothing” only made the tension worse. The lubricant had been cool at first, but was soon warmed under Shimazaki's heat.

　　The plants kept up their relentless, thorough teasing. Shimazaki had already been holding back for so long. There was no way he could take this new wave of tender stimulation. He lifted his hips, urging Minegishi to go faster, only for his boyfriend to pull away his hand at once, denying him even the faintest touch.

　　"Toshiki—" Shimazaki gasped.

　　Minegishi didn't respond. His gaze was dark with amusement, like he wanted to eat Shimazaki alive.

　　From the bedside table, a new vine sprouted; it was about as thick as a circle made by forefinger and thumb, its surface smooth, marked with natural ridges, glistening with a bead of clear fluid that carried a faint scent of roses. The vine hovered near Shimizaki’s lips, as if waiting for permission. Minegishi’s eyes posed the question.

　　And Shimizaki answered with action. He parted his lips and took the tip of the vine into his mouth. The slick fluid was surprisingly tasteless, but the plant’s elasticity and firmness felt uncannily like a cock, giving him the vivid illusion of giving a blowjob. As if receiving approval, the vine began to thrust slowly and gently, giving him plenty of time to adjust. It even bent with care, stroking the sensitive inner lining of his mouth. Shimazaki couldn’t tell whether the plant was helping him relieve the heat… or making it worse.

　　Finally, Minegishi reached for his cock, giving it a few slow, deliberate strokes to slick the shaft with lubricant. Despite the motion being torturously slow—or perhaps because of it—Shimazaki couldn’t help but moan aloud in response.

　　"Cute." Minegishi remarked, as if commenting on a TV show.

　　Then, Minegishi lowered his head and, without warning, took Shimazaki’s cock into his mouth all the way to the base. Minegishi’s demeanor was always cool and composed, but his mouth was unbelievably warm, wet, and soft, wrapping tightly around Shimazaki’s rigid, eager length. With the vine still moving steadily in his mouth, Shimazaki could only hum through his nose, trembling with pleasure.

　　Minegishi began to blow him slowly. With the help of the lubricant, his lips and inner mouth glided effortlessly along the shaft. His rough tongue dragged deliberately across the underside, savoring the sensitive frenulum and head with each retreat, then moving forward again, stroking the hardened length with warm, wet friction. Every motion brought renewed pleasure—light, yet intoxicating. Shimazaki moaned lowly, matching the rhythm. A few vines crept between his thighs, gently cradling his balls and caressing the tender skin of his inner legs. With his cock being stimulated, and his body under constant gentle touch, he felt as though he were drowning in wave after wave of pleasure.

　　But it wasn’t enough. It was still not enough. Pleasure was like a drug. The more he had, the more he craved. Knowing this all too well, Minegishi deliberately slowed down, igniting a fire right where Shimazaki burned with need, only to withhold satisfaction, letting him writhe, moan, and burn under the weight of growing desire.

　　“Mmhh—” With the vine still gagging his mouth, he couldn’t even call out Minegishi’s name. He couldn’t beg. Couldn’t plead.

　　A wicked impulse sparked in Shimazaki. Just as Minegishi swallowed him down to the base, he bucked his hips upward on purpose—only to be met with no resistance. Minegishi simply relaxed his throat, taking him in even deeper, until Shimazaki could feel the tight heat of his lover’s throat around him—hotter, deeper, like a serpent swallowing an egg without effort. The sensation made Shimazaki almost dizzy.

　　However, Minegishi had no intention to let him dominate the situation. Minegishi's hands clamped gently but firmly onto Shimazaki’s waist, guiding him back into the chair. Then, bracing himself, he began to quicken the pace.

　　The sudden surge of pleasure tore a cry from Shimazaki’s throat, though it was quickly muffled again by the vine. The pleasure grew stronger and stronger, rising in waves that crashed over him again and again. He was unbelievably sensitive; every spark of desire now transformed into an explosive rush. With every bob of Minegishi’s head, with every slide of lips and tongue over his burning shaft and aching tip, Shimazaki let out a sharp, unrestrained moan. His chest heaved, couldn't escape the plant teasing his nipples with relentless affection. His fingers clung tightly to the vines that were meant to bind him, gripping them like a lifeline, as if begging for something, anything, to keep him from drowning in the overwhelming ecstasy.

　　The climax crept up on him. Shimazaki's whole body was flooded with pleasure as he arched reflexively. The plant branched out again, curling around his chest to gently pull him back into the chair. Shimazaki obeyed the silent command, going against his body’s instincts as he fell back into the reclined seat. His body trembled, moaned, opened up beneath Minegishi’s gaze, helplessly vulnerable as the pressure built and built, leaving him completely exposed.

　　Half-lost in sensation, Shimazaki’s eyelids fluttered open, revealing the dark, hollow sockets beneath.

　　With the onslaught of intense pleasure, his body spasmed as thick white release spilled from his cock. Minegishi kept moving for a moment longer, slow and steady, guiding him through the climax until Shimazaki was finally spent. Only then did he pull back, letting Shimazaki’s cock slip from his mouth. Minegishi swallowed everything he’d been given.

　　Shimazaki gasped for breath, dazed for a long moment before his senses finally returned. The vines withdrew, curling back toward the bedside table and returning once again to the form of an innocent, ordinary potted plant, leaving Shimazaki slumped in the chair—his hair disheveled, cheeks flushed, lips still glistening with the plant’s slick secretion. His clothes were rumpled and half-pulled up, revealing the tender, reddened skin beneath, which was sensitized from careful meticulous attention. Shimazaki smiled wearily, knowing full well he must look like a complete mess.

　　Wiping his hands with a towel, Minegishi knelt backward onto the floor, but his eyes never once left Shimazaki. Shimazaki could feel that gaze on him, even hotter than before, almost searing. And... Oh, the gaze wasn’t the only thing that was burning.

　　Shimazaki nudged Minegishi's crotch with his toes playfully, "Looks like someone is getting excited."

　　"Well, maybe a little." Minegishi admitted.

　　"C'mere," Shimazaki smiled, leaning down to take his boyfriend's hand. "Your turn now."

　　The next moment, they were sitting side by side on the edge of the bed, their knees touching, nearly overlapping. Shimazaki reached into Minegishi’s soft hair, fingers threading through the strands as he gently pulled him close. Minegishi uttered, "I haven't brushed my teeth—" But Shimazaki didn’t care. He sealed the words with a deep, passionate kiss. (He could still taste himself.)

　　At the same time, his hand began to wander, slipping under Minegishi’s shirt, stroking freely, exploring the slender lines of his body, and deliberately brushing over the sensitive peaks of his nipples. Minegishi’s expression remained calm, but his breathing grew heavier with every touch. Shimazaki, far less patient than his partner, soon let his palm drift lower, pasting the smooth, firm plane of his stomach, along the curve of his narrow waist, down to the edge of his cotton pants.

　　Minegishi shifted his body, lifting his hips to help as Shimazaki tugged his waistband down. Shimazaki smiled to himself—like Minegishi had any right to tease him for being horny.

　　Shimazaki poured a generous amount of lube into his palm, then wrapped his large hand around Minegishi’s half-hard cock. He rubbed it with his fingers and palm, coaxing it to grow harder, until it stood firm against Minegishi’s stomach. Minegishi let out a faint moan, barely audible, his arms winding around Shimazaki’s neck as he buried his face in his chest, as if trying to hide his expression.

　　But even if he could hide his face, he couldn’t hide his aura. Every twitch, every curl of his body, every moment of tension, every involuntary gasp that screamed right there—Shimazaki could see it all.

　　He gradually increased the pace of his strokes, listening to Minegishi’s moans slip from his lips and vibrate softly against his chest, sending tingles across his skin with every breath. Leaning down, Shimazaki pressed a kiss into Minegishi’s hair, then moved lower, brushing his lips against the curve of a heated ear. He gently nipped at the fragile edge and breathed warm, ticklish air into it. Minegishi whimpered, arms tightening around Shimazaki as he buried his face deeper into his chest—unable to tell whether he was protesting or urging Shimazaki to keep going. Oh well. Shimazaki, of course, chose to believe it was the latter.

　　"Shi-Shimazaki... Ah..."

　　Minegishi moaned.

　　Shimazaki had never told his boyfriend this—but every time Minegishi moaned his name, he’d deliberately reward him by touching the spot that felt best. Minegishi also hadn’t noticed how often he called Shimazaki’s name without even realizing it.

　　How adorable. There was something mischievous in his pampering. Shimazaki loved Minegishi, loved the way he melted in his hands, the way his body tensed beneath the weight of pleasure, yet somehow still relaxed in his arms, letting Shimazaki—the evil, shameless, insufferable Shimazaki—handle him at will, his skin flushed hot and hypersensitive under every touch. He loved running his hands across his entire body, making his boyfriend squirm and whimper like a beautiful instrument responding to his fingers.

　　As he neared climax, Minegishi arched his body, his aura tightening, his mind going completely blank. Right at the edge, Shimazaki suddenly slowed down, shifting to a slow, firm stroke. The pleasure lost its sharpness—but deepened, drawn out and maddening, every nerve teased and tended to. It prolonged the agony, stretching out that desperate, aching need to come.

　　Minegishi whimpered, panting, too far gone to protest—not that he needed to. Shimazaki already knew he liked it this way.

　　Finally, the pleasure crested slowly but wonderfully, pushing him to the threshold. Minegishi let out a low moan, his entire body tightening as he came in Shimazaki’s hand, his cock pulsing, spilling warm release. Shimazaki gave him a few more slow, gentle strokes, milking every last drop, letting the tip smear with white.

　　"......"

　　Still resting his head against Shimazaki’s chest, Minegishi slowly calmed his breathing as his body gradually relaxed.

　　Shimazaki waited patiently for a while before shifting slightly. But Minegishi’s arms stayed wrapped around him, refusing to let go. So he remained seated at the edge of the bed, holding his boyfriend in his arms like a small animal curled up in a warm, safe nest, unwilling to leave. With his clean hand, he gently stroked Minegishi’s soft hair.

　　"Minegishi? I should go grab a towel."

　　"Mmm..." Minegishi's muffled voice came from Shimazaki’s chest, "Time to get ready for bed. Gotta work tomorrow."

　　But Minegishi still didn’t move. So until the world started turning again, they simply stayed like that—quietly wrapped in each other’s arms, bodies gently pressed together, listening in silence to the soft, steady rhythm of each other’s heartbeat.

[dontforgetthedragon]

i wanna talk about hanazawa teruki

(preface: written before the eric trump thing)

yes this is a weird time to be talking about mp100 i know but i was rewatching the anime recently and its only starting to occur to me just how bad i feel for this boy

like, i feel that the first time i watched mp100 my impression of teru was just feral wildchild who speedruns his redemption arc and also has the worst fashion sense but, like, there’s a lot more complexity to our boy teru than that

and its not really until s1 ep11 that it really clicked that the root of a lot of teru’s actions is that he is a child who has been fundamentally failed by the adults in his life

we dont know an awful lot about teru’s parents, other than the fact that he doesnt live with them and, from the manga, we learn they are almost always away on business trips. ekubo theorises that the reason for this is that he has had to hide from claw over and over, so it’s possible he distanced himself from them for their safety. but regardless of the exact details, the fact is they were clearly unable to protect him from the threats in his life. those were things he had to deal with on his own

when we the viewers first encounter hanazawa teruki, shadow leader of black vinegar middle school, it is when he is sent for as a last resort and as the school’s secret unbeatable weapon. he is the one everyone else is relying on, while he relies on no-one but himself. no wonder he developed such an inflated sense of his own importance and power!!! no wonder he thinks hes untouchable!!! when has anyone in his life ever been able to do a better job at anything than him??? he can use his powers to solve all the obstacles in his life - cheat at tests, do well in sports, get popular, win fights - when other people have problems, they come to him

when he has problems, he cant really go to anyone - not even his flakey parents. because if he cant deal with them, whats the likelihood anyone else can? he has to solve it all himself - but at the point we first meet him, he’s always been able to. so whats the big deal, right?

but thats a precarious place to stand

teru doesnt get to learn and fail and make mistakes like a child should. he doesnt have that safety net. his entire approach to life thus far relies on him always succeeding, so he needs to already be the best. success has to be a given because it is this belief that makes up the very foundations of his world, that makes him feel safe and stable. so his reaction to discovering shigeo’s existance is about more than just threatened pride, its about threatened stability as well. because if shigeo is stronger than him, then that means people can be stronger than him, that any mundane-looking person could be. that his ability to thrive by himself is not guaranteed

what happens to him then? he doesnt have anyone to fall back on

(its important to stress that feeling safe and secure is more important to him than being safe and secure. the extremity of his reaction speaks more to a maladaptive psycological response than something actually helpful)

and then he is beaten. soundly. and he has to accept that

it puzzled me in my first watch-though how quickly teru goes from extreme aggression towards and nearly strangling mob to genuine friendliness and even affection. but with this understanding it makes perfect sense

we see from teru’s attempts to speak to claw members that on the surface he has absorbed and understood shigeo’s words. no-one is more important than anyone else. seeing yourself as the main character of the world or as inherently more deserving because of psychic powers is a huge mistake. but your subconcious feelings and beliefs are harder to change and by the end of ep 11 it becomes clear that, for teru, these have simply shifted from i am the most important and powerful character in the world and i cannot be beaten to kageyama-kun is the most important and powerful character in the world and he cannot be beaten. which isnt much better

once he accepts his defeat and relative irrelevance, letting go of his pride, it must have been a relief for teru to know an esper more powerful than him. especially one like shigeo, who showed such a stubborn desire for friendliness and civil relations toward him, even in the face of teru’s open aggression. finally, teru has someone he can turn to for help. someone he can rely on when things get too tough to handle himself. someone else to hand that responsibility to

he goes after claw because he feels that with mob on his side he stands a fighting chance. when ritsu and teru both admit their powers arent enough, its shigeo they turn to. when the group are being attacked by multiple scars at once, teru is the voice opposing reigen, screaming out in desperation - while fending off attacks with increasing futility - that mob needs to do something, that he’s the only one with the power to defeat them

the issue is, thats not fair on shigeo

teruki’s unstable and neglectful upbringing has left him with a warped sense of the kind of responsibility a middle schooler should hold. the idea of turning to an adult for help, or even giving an adult’s words any weight, is completely foreign to him at this point because, in his experience, age has little bearing on power or even effective authority. he’s had to make his own way through life without adults to rely on, so he genuinely doesnt understand the issue with putting this burden on shigeo’s shoulders. they need to defeat the scars attacking them, and kageyama-kun is the one with the power to do it. ergo, kageyama needs to use his power to defeat the scars. whats so wrong about that?

teru isnt really a sad character; he’s very practical about his situation and we never see him wallow in bitterness at these injustices. but im also not sure he actually realises how much childhood growth and development space he’s been robbed of, and that makes it hard for him to face his own failings