#wall street bar | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

missellafitz · 7 months ago

Text

**The concert dates for this Caesars Palace engagement were June 6-18, 1974, which begs the question, why did this take place on the 19th? Was Frank doing an additional show without Ella? How was she a surprise? Was the show itself a surprise? Love the possessive pronoun of "my" though, hehe.

Also, this engagement apparently brought Frank out of retirement and was the catalyst for "The Concert" that he, Ella, and Basie had at the Uris Theater in NYC the next year. One thing I'll say is that Frank LOVED to sing with Ella, so maybe she really was enough to bring him back to the stage.

A Secret Caesars Palace Trove Captures Sinatra, Ella and Scores of Others, Unaware

By Anna Wilde Mathews Staff Reporter of The Wall Street Journal

March 19, 2001 12:01 am ET

LAS VEGAS -- On June 19, 1974, Frank Sinatra took the stage at Caesars Palace. Backed by the Count Basie Orchestra, he delivered a set of standards before telling the audience, "Surprise! My girl's gonna sing for you." On that cue, Ella Fitzgerald joined him for a rollicking duet of "The Lady Is a Tramp." The two traded lines and improvised harmonies, punctuated by Mr. Sinatra's exhortation: "Swing, baby!"

It was a special evening, even by the lofty standards of the Caesars showroom, then a premier venue for the biggest names in entertainment. But the two singers themselves probably weren't aware of one thing that made their performance exceptional: Every note was captured by a reel-to-reel tape recorder wired directly into the Caesars sound system.

It was only one of scores of acts recorded in secret over a quarter of a century at Caesars Palace -- a playlist that includes Louis Armstrong, Tony Bennett, Ray Charles, Duke Ellington, Judy Garland, Peggy Lee, Johnny Mathis, Bette Midler, Diana Ross, Sarah Vaughan and dozens of other show-business luminaries.

Behind it all was Dave Rogers, the longtime sound engineer at the hotel and casino's 1,000-seat Circus Maximus showroom. Mr. Rogers stored the tapes at home, keepsakes that he occasionally played for the memories.

Then, in 1998, he died, and the tapes were in the hands of his stepson, Gilbert Cebollero, a former craps dealer who set out to turn them into a profitable endeavor. Since then, Mr. Cebollero has managed to strike an unlikely deal with a fledgling company backed by television impresario Norman Lear to release the material on compact discs and, possibly, over the Web. Already, singer Andy Williams and the estates of Mr. Sinatra and Sammy Davis Jr. have tentatively agreed to participate, and the first CD is in the works.

The obstacles are big, however, and many of the recordings may never reach a mass audience. Mr. Lear's company, Neon Tonic, is still struggling to secure release rights from many of the artists, their estates or their record labels -- which have been surprised to learn of the tapes and aren't all eager to strike a deal. Some of the artists worry that their performances may not be good enough for public consumption.

Yet the tapes themselves aren't the typical muffled bootlegs. Mr. Rogers created recordings of startling clarity, often with nearly commercial sound quality. And the collection is more than just live music; it is an unedited record of Vegas culture in its heyday. As the curtain falls on Mr. Sinatra's duet with Ms. Fitzgerald, a microphone picks up his parting remark: "OK, baby, the bar's open." On another tape, a disoriented Judy Garland stumbles off-key through "Over the Rainbow." Moments like those may never make it to record stores, but if Mr. Lear and his partners succeed, many hours of unique recorded entertainment will.

In 1966, when Andy Williams performed on opening night at the new casino and its showroom, the venue was among the most glamorous in the world. The hotel feted its first visitors with two tons of filet mignon, 300 pounds of crab and 50,000 glasses of champagne.

Mr. Rogers helped build the sound system that was used on that first evening. A veteran engineer at the Flamingo and the Sands, Mr. Rogers had moved over to Caesars about a month before the opening. For much of the next quarter of a century, he could be found in an open booth suspended above the rear of the Circus Maximus. There, he twiddled dials on the soundboard to ensure that the mix was clean and balanced. He almost never missed a night. "His home was Caesars," says Donovan Belian, a son of Mr. Rogers who is now a carpenter in Las Vegas.

A constant tinkerer, Mr. Rogers worked hard to please the most finicky artists. He built an echo chamber under the stage to add depth to performers' tone. As a special favor, he once set up a VCR in Mr. Sinatra's hotel room.

Such services put Mr. Rogers on a first-name basis with many stars. He collected autographed pictures from the likes of Raquel Welch and Burt Bacharach. One of his backstage photos shows Bill Cosby arm-in-arm with Sammy Davis Jr., who is wearing a "Caesars Sound Crew" T-shirt. In another, Mr. Rogers hugs a smiling Nancy Sinatra. The pictures weren't his only souvenirs. A pack rat, he also filled a wooden locker backstage with old tools and gadgets, and at home collected discarded televisions, radios and other electronic debris.

Then there is the stash of Caesars recordings, made from the showroom's soundboard over a period stretching from the late 1960s to the early 1990s. Mr. Rogers kept the reels and cassettes in his workshop at home and occasionally listened to them while he puttered around, his stepson Mr. Cebollero says.

The taping may have begun as a way for the sound engineer to catch technical mistakes and thus hone his craft, says Mr. Rogers's daughter Suzynne Fowler. Michael Rogers, the sound engineer's oldest son, says, "I think he wanted to record his history, and maybe even the industry's history." The younger Mr. Rogers, now a Las Vegas theatrical electrician, worked at Caesars with his father in the mid-1970s.

Dave Rogers took a leave of absence in 1994 as he battled liver disease brought on by years of diabetes. He never returned to work. In January 1998, he died at age 66. A brief obituary published in local newspapers noted his National Guard service and his membership in the theatrical stage employee union. It gave his occupation as "director of sound in the entertainment industry."

In all, Mr. Rogers had captured hundreds of hours of concerts and comedy by well over 100 performers. Upon his death, it all ended up with Mr. Cebollero.

The Balloon Drop

Mr. Cebollero's mother, Elba, had met Mr. Rogers, who was already divorced with four children, while she was working at the Caesars front desk. The two married in 1970. As a teenager, Mr. Cebollero hung out backstage at Caesars while his stepfather worked. He recalls New Year's celebrations when his stepfather let him release the flood of balloons above the Caesars audience.

https://archive.ph/s1csZ/edae5250cb4b4f7d6decc057a4570949fecb8ae5.gif

Through the 1970s and '80s, Mr. Cebollero bounced around Las Vegas as a bellboy, a stagehand and eventually a craps dealer at various casinos. More recently, he has worked as a residential real-estate agent. By the time his stepfather died, Mr. Cebollero faced a federal tax lien of more than $19,000, which he says was related to a dispute over tip income from his casino days. The lien was lifted in 2000; Mr. Cebollero says he took care of it with a reduced payment.

Mr. Cebollero says he was motivated to turn the tapes into a business in order to preserve his stepfather's work, not to pay a tax bill. In the past, "I never applied myself," he says. "But I plan to now."

Today, Mr. Cebollero, 43 years old and never married, lives with his mother in the modest two-story white stucco house Mr. Rogers had built for the family in the mid-1970s. Over the door hangs a small sign: "Mi casa es su casa." In the basement and in a shipping container in the backyard, he keeps all the things his stepfather hoarded over the years. "Everything they were throwing out, he'd bring home," Mr. Cebollero says.

His mother wouldn't comment for this article. Nor would his sister, Lorraine. Stepbrothers Mr. Belian and Michael Rogers say they support Mr. Cebollero's efforts. Ms. Fowler declines to comment, saying she doesn't know the details of her stepbrother's plans. Stepsister Trish Elliott says she "has no problem" with Mr. Cebollero's efforts.

Mr. Cebollero used an address for Nancy Sinatra obtained through a Web site to send her a compilation of Sinatra snippets from the Caesars tapes. But he sent it under the name of a friend, keeping his own identity secret: "I didn't know what kind of feedback I would get," he says.

His efforts drew the attention of Robert Finkelstein, a longtime Sinatra family attorney who represents the music-rights companies controlled by the singer's children. Mr. Finkelstein says the Sinatra estate had no knowledge of the recordings before hearing from Mr. Cebollero in 1998.

Threat of Litigation

After several months, negotiations over the rights to the Sinatra tapes stalled. Neither party will specify the terms Mr. Cebollero sought. Mr. Finkelstein then fired off a letter threatening to sue, arguing that the recordings were illegal, unauthorized bootlegs. "If someone says to you they possess tapes of your recordings, your initial reaction is, 'You have no right to those,' " he says. "That can be resolved either by litigation or by compromise."

But Mr. Finkelstein also explained the situation to longtime acquaintance Hal Gaba, chief executive of Act III Communications, a media holding company of which Mr. Lear is chairman. A jazz buff, Mr. Gaba already ran a side business distributing videos of performances by Mr. Sinatra and others, and Act III was negotiating to purchase the Concord jazz record label. He immediately saw the potential of the Caesars tapes. With Mr. Finkelstein's knowledge, Mr. Gaba contacted Mr. Cebollero.

Messrs. Gaba and Lear had already been noodling around with the idea of a music Web site that would reach jazz fans all over the world. The recordings, they figured, could provide a one-of-a-kind draw to the site. "I had this fantasy of this little guy in this obscure corner of Caesars Palace," says Mr. Lear.

In early 1999, Mr. Gaba began traveling to Las Vegas to meet with Mr. Cebollero, first over lunch at a Caesars coffee shop, and later at the home Mr. Cebollero shares with his mother. There, Mr. Gaba was ushered into a dark basement cluttered with dusty equipment, including an old Caesars soundboard and a pile of black-painted floorboards from the original showroom stage. During hours of reminiscing about oldtime Vegas, Mr. Cebollero played samples from the tapes.

Over the next few weeks, Mr. Gaba and Mr. Cebollero pinned down details of a tentative deal. Mr. Gaba would see to the daunting task of securing legal clearances from artists and record labels. Mr. Cebollero would receive royalty payments. Neither side will disclose terms.

Mr. Cebollero also insisted that he retain possession of the original tapes. "It's sentimental," he says. "My dad's handwriting is on it." And he wanted his stepfather credited on the CD packaging.

A Five-Hour Trek

More troublesome, he wouldn't let the fragile recordings out of his sight even for an overnight shipment. So starting in the summer of 1999, he and a friend drove five hours from Las Vegas every couple of weeks to deliver boxes of tapes to a recording studio in the San Fernando Valley home of a producer who works with Mr. Gaba.

Initially, Mr. Cebollero refused to leave the house while the producer and another sound engineer transferred the recordings from the original analog tapes to digital tape. Later, the music was put on computer, and song by song, they smoothed out distortions and toned down extraneous noises -- the foot-tapping of a Count Basie Orchestra musician, for example.

Many of the tapes were dusty or moldy, and a few were so brittle that they broke. Some of the older ones needed a special player obtained from a used-equipment dealer. Many had only fragmentary, hand-scrawled labels, or weren't identified at all. Clues such as a reference to Watergate helped pinpoint performance dates.

The sound quality of the Caesars tapes is nonetheless impressive. Band members can be heard laughing quietly at a headliner's jokes. Comments never meant for an audience also come through clearly. When Mr. Sinatra turned to quietly thank the band after a rendition of "My Kind of Town," he added, "Sang my d--- off that time!" Then he told the audience, "I just had an intimate discussion with the gentlemen of the orchestra which cannot be repeated."

The engineers also had to make sense of a jumbled archive. A single shipment contained a 1991 routine by comedian Joan Rivers; a 1972 show by singing duo Steve Lawrence and Eydie Gorme; and a 1988 Red Skelton performance. Another tape in the batch came with a label that read only, "Thunder and Cow." It turned out to contain a series of moos and booms apparently meant for sound effects.

In the same shipment, Mr. Cebollero brought a vintage Sammy Davis set from Halloween 1981. It opens with the Basie orchestra swinging through "Sweet Georgia Brown." Then Mr. Davis delivers several of his standards, such as "Teach Me Tonight," along with some classic Vegas stage patter. "You're looking at the only black actor who wasn't in 'Roots,' 1 or 2," he says at one point. Later, he jokes: "I can't help it if I'm short! If I had any real class, I'd be in a bell tower someplace, saying 'The plane, boss, the plane!' "

By last fall, nearly 500 hours of concert tape had been digitized. Mr. Cebollero was now flying the tapes over from Las Vegas, though he still didn't want to check them as luggage. Mr. Gaba and Mr. Lear, meanwhile, were putting together their start-up in a Beverly Hills office lined with posters of "All in the Family" and other Lear television shows.

Calling on friends and their own resources, they raised about $3 million in seed money. The new company began a months-long process of building a Web site and picking a name and logo. Eventually, Neon Tonic beat options like "Gigolution" and "Shanghai Lobster" because, company executives thought, it suggested a sophisticated music club.

Mr. Gaba began trying to resolve the tangled legal questions surrounding the tapes' past, starting early last year with Caesars' parent company, Park Place Entertainment Corp. Mr. Cebollero insists that his stepfather never tried to conceal his taping from the performers or his bosses. "It wasn't like it was hidden," he says.

But Caesars executives say they weren't aware of the tapes before Mr. Gaba contacted them. Tom Pilkington, once Mr. Rogers's boss at Caesars and now a vice president with Park Place, says he had "no clue" that his employee was keeping a collection of such recordings. "It wasn't a policy of the hotel" to regularly record and archive shows, he says. He does remember Mr. Rogers making some tapes for performers' personal use, at their request. Generally, acts that played Caesars had contracts that explicitly banned recordings.

Still, Park Place decided to work with Mr. Gaba. The hospitality firm agreed to sell compact discs containing the showroom tapes and to allow the start-up to use the Caesars name in packaging and marketing the CDs. The Neon Tonic CDs would first be sold exclusively through Park Place retail outlets, then distributed more widely by Concord Records, the jazz label Mr. Gaba and Mr. Lear had bought. But the deal was contingent on Mr. Gaba's securing legal clearances from artists and others with rights to the recordings.

For help, Mr. Gaba looked to Mr. Finkelstein, who had been named to Neon Tonic's board. Together, he and Mr. Gaba crafted a tentative agreement to allow use of the Sinatra material. Then Mr. Finkelstein reached out to others who manage the rights to some of the other big acts Mr. Rogers had taped.

Jeff Lotman, who runs a marketing company that represents the work of Sammy Davis Jr. and others, says he was surprised when Mr. Finkelstein called him and told him of the tapes. But he liked the offer: The Davis estate would get a stake in Neon Tonic, as well as royalties from recording sales. "Our clients are not making new movies, so anything we can do to raise the awareness is obviously a good thing," says Mr. Lotman, whose company is called Global Icons LLC. Mr. Davis's widow, Altovise, agreed to participate.

Mr. Gaba personally courted Andy Williams, a longtime acquaintance, at the Grill, a Beverly Hills power-lunch venue. Mr. Williams, who became a Caesars regular after performing the hotel's first show, says, "I never knew they were recording me." When he found out that several of his shows had been taped, "I felt an invasion, a little bit, of privacy."

A tape of a June 10, 1969, show finds Mr. Williams performing a lush, brass-backed "Moon River," along with a medley from the musical "Hair." The show includes an appearance by a very young Jimmy Osmond, who delivers a squeaky "I Dig Rock 'n' Roll Music." Between songs, Mr. Williams warns: "I think I ought to tell you the truth -- I'm a swinger!"

Mr. Williams agreed to sign on as an investor, with veto power over recordings of his own performances.

Neon Tonic has offered other artists veto power, as well as royalties based on album sales. Some also have been offered stakes in the new company. The company says it is close to signing agreements with several, whom it declines to name. One problem: The Sinatra estate wants the original tapes of Mr. Sinatra that Mr. Cebollero now holds. Until the two sides agree to terms, none of the Sinatra material from Mr. Rogers's recordings is likely to be released.

Some of Mr. Rogers's recordings probably won't ever reach the public. Jeffrey Berkowitz, an attorney who represents Judy Garland's daughter Lorna Luft, says the singer's children wouldn't want "to have poor-quality stuff released" and are "more concerned about protecting the name and image of their mother" than anything else.

During an undated Garland show that Mr. Rogers recorded, the singer leaves the stage soon after the start, telling the audience, "I'll be back in a minute." Later, in the middle of "That's Entertainment," she stumbles on a line. Then, as the band plays on, she interjects, "There are too damn many words in this song. I'm sure that someone from either Warner Brothers or MGM wrote the lyrics."

Retreat From the Web

The Web downturn has altered Neon Tonic's plans. Just days before a test launch of the Web site in late January, Mr. Gaba decided to delay it indefinitely. For now, Neon Tonic will focus on the CDs.

The first disc, a compilation of individual tracks from several artists' performances, is tentatively scheduled for summer release. It isn't yet clear how many artists will be on it. Mr. Sinatra's duet with Ms. Fitzgerald probably won't be, though Neon Tonic hopes to include it in a later CD. Remarks Mr. Rogers taped that obviously weren't intended for an audience -- including Mr. Sinatra's risque private remark to his band -- probably won't make it to disc.

A Neon Tonic executive says the liner notes are likely to acknowledge Mr. Rogers in some way. As for the tapes, Mr. Cebollero hasn't told even his partners where he keeps them.

Last September, the Circus Maximus showroom closed forever with a performance by Steve and Eydie. It has since been leveled. Park Place is considering building a larger showroom at the hotel. A company spokeswoman won't comment on the type of entertainment it might provide. The hotel still has a sound engineer on staff. He works part time, mainly to handle special events.

#ella fitzgerald #frank sinatra #ella and frank #las vegas #Wall Street Journal #I could've died when I found this!#Him calling her his girl is just too cute #“As the curtain falls on Mr. Sinatra's duet with Ms. Fitzgerald a microphone picks up his parting remark: ”OK baby the bar is open"#He calls her “baby”#I'm so convinced they were definitely together in the romantic sense

0 notes

chososrightnipple · 6 months ago

Text

❝𝐣𝐣𝐤 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 + 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨)❞

a/n: almost four hundred followers omg.. i love all you freaks mwah!! here is part two as promised. included some requests for characters. aged up! megumi and yuji of course. might do a part three maybeeee? afab body w/no gendered language as usual.

part one.

── დ ──

. *. ⋆ TOJI FUSHIGURO

▸ panty stealing. he thinks of it as memorabilia. snatching your panties from the floor before you have the chance to put them back on- just something he keeps to remember you bye.

▸ daddy kink. we all saw this coming, right? you call him daddy once and it's all he needs to fuck you into the bed for the rest of the night.

▸ thigh riding. seeing you frotting against his large thigh, desperate to cum, pussy practically drooling for it... his favorite foreplay 100%.

▸ cum play. this man will cum anywhere and everywhere and he'll love it. let him cum on your face, your ass, your chest, your back, down your throat, etc etc.

▸ hatefucking. angry sex after an argument where he takes out all of the stress you caused him on your poor holes :(

▸ breeding. you can give him another baby, can't you? you can make him a daddy all over again, right? just let him cum inside of you as much as he wants, he'll make it happen, he swears.

▸ exhibitionism. you grind against him once on the bar floor and next thing you know he's dragging out to the empty alleyway and pressing you against the nearest wall.

▸ size difference. he's so large, so big, every single part of him practically overtaking you. and he gets off on that fact so fucking hard!!

. *. ⋆ NANAMI KENTO

▸ cockwarming. seating himself inside your warm pussy while he's stuck doing all kinds of boring paperwork. he'll fuck you, he swears, you just gotta sit pretty on his lap for a little bit, okay?

▸face fucking. he loves taking out all of his stress on you. gripping your hair as he uses your mouth mercilessly, bullying his cock down the back of your tight throat.

▸blindfolding. silk ribbons in a variety of colors that he matches to the underwear you're modeling for him. only the best for his lover <3

▸ thigh riding. there's no better way to put him in the mood than pathetically grinding yourself against his thigh, using his body selfishly for your own pleasure.

▸ hair pulling. y'all know that one scene... he pulls at your hair exactly like that. fingers going white with how tight he's tugging at you, manipulating your position until you're face to face with his scowl.

▸ spanking. makes you count for every slap and if you miscount, he's starting all over again. pay better attention to him next time, yeah?

▸ semi-public. yes, he will bend you right over his desk, no he doesn't care there's a meeting going on next door. or better yet, against the window of the fourth floor, overlooking the busy street below it.

▸ phone sex. it really isn't any problem that he's across the country on a mission. even just the sound of your whines over the phone is enough to get him off.

. *. ⋆ MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

▸ panty stealing. he would say he feels bad about it, but he doesn't. you looked so good in the lacey little things, he can't help but want to keep them for later. even has his own little drawer for them.

▸ masochism. the stinging pain of your nails running down his back is utterly euphoric. and don't get him started on how harshly you tug at his hair when he's eating you out- he can cum in his boxers just from that alone.

▸ breast play. massaging at the skin, feeling the plumpness under his fingertips. sucking at your nipples and leaving a trail of kisses down the valley of your breasts. he's obsessed.

▸ edging. leaving you just on the brink of release over and over again, until tears are streaming down your face. he'll let you cum eventually, you just look so pretty this worked up for him.

▸ marking. oh my goddd do not get megumi started on this. he doesn't know why it gets him so worked up- seeing you covered in the hickeys and bite marks that he's left on you- but it does.

▸ cunnilingus. eats you out like a man starved, like he'll never eat you out again. pulling him away from your poor pussy is next to impossible if he's not yet done with his meal.

▸ mutual masturbation. sometimes you both just need to relaxation of release and nothing more. sitting across from each other on the bed, or maybe side by side, listening to the moans of the other as you both touch yourselves.

▸ dacryphilia. like adoptive father like adopted son. seeing your eyes brim with tears from how good he's fucking you drives him crazy.

. *. ⋆ YUJI ITADORI

▸ ass play. we all know he's an ass man i mean come on?! doggy style is his favorite position just because of it. seeing how the fat of your ass moves with every slap of his hips is fucking addicting.

▸ praise kink. tell him how good he's fucking you and how much of a good boy he is pleaseeee!!!!

▸ toys. he didn't realize how much he would love bringing toys into the bedroom until he sees how hard you can cum around him while he holds a vibrator to your clit.

▸ raw sex. he knows it's stupid, fucking you with no protection. you're pussy just feels so good, so warm, he needs to fuck you raw.

▸ face riding. please sit on his face, suffocate him, he doesn't care. it's his favorite position to eat you out.

▸ overstimulation. poor baby doesn't even mean to overstimulate you half of the time- he just has so much stamina, you understand that, right? and seeing you so flushed and fucked out under him has him so horny. just one more round, yeah? you can do that for him, right?

▸ dirty talk. yuji is a yapper and that doesn't stop when he's fucking you. the filth that comes out of his mouth has you wet just thinking about it.

▸ dry humping. the tension, the intimacy, the panting, the friction?? all of it, it's like a drug to him.

11K notes · View notes

travelernight · 8 months ago

Text

Hong Kong Secrets: Uncover The Top 10 Must-Visit Hidden Gems

1 note · View note

crushmeeren · 5 months ago

Note

Sex chocolate with Hawks, Dabi, Aizawa and maybe Toshinori???

⋆ ft. izuku ⋆

⋆ this is written as if the guys didn’t know they’d eaten the chocolate and how they’d react to the treat. sorry I didn’t put Toshinori in this, I’m not quite sure how to write his personality yet. (ó﹏ò｡)

𝛏 master list link 𝛏

// @emmab3mma hope you enjoy! ₊˚ʚ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎₊˚✧ ﾟ.

Izuku’s lips would tug into a sheepish smile, no doubt thankful for the sweet treat pick me up. His eyes would brighten, a satisfied hum dancing in the air.

Izuku would be unbearably jittery out on patrol that evening, hopping from the sidewalk on one side the street to the other, green light crackling in his wake. He’d do it mindlessly, thoughts wandering to you and what you currently could be doing.

Suddenly, he’d be flailing mid air when he vividly imagines you on your knees, plush lips stretched so wide on his cock he knows it must hurt your mouth. Izuku would stumble when he hit the concrete, catching himself on the bench nearby.

Izuku’s expression would twist from calm to horrified, thoughts running a mile a minute when he steadies himself and realizes his cock is…hard. Throbbing. Straining against his hero suit. He’d make haste running to the nearest building with a public restroom.

Izuku would shut the door to the restroom and lock it before anyone could even notice he entered. He’d be frantic, shoving his pants down mid thigh as he leaned against the wall and hissed through his teeth when the cool air hit his freely bobbing cock.

He’d have a million concerns in the back of his head but not be able to focus on a single one. Izuku would have a one track mind, wrapping a hand around himself and jerking until he came in less than 20 seconds to the image of you on your knees.

Izuku would be so embarrassed afterwards, cheeks bright pink as he adjusts his clothes and washes his hands.

Being as smart as he is, he’d have a suspicion this is related to the chocolate you gave him and he intends to find out once he’s home. Once he returned, he’d tease you until you’re on the edge of tears and blurting out the truth, fucking you until your mind whites out and you scream his name.

Lucky you.

Keigo would give you a flirty grin, winking playfully as he snatched the chocolate from you and swallowed it within two bites. You’d give him an unimpressed look but he’d just laugh like it’s the funniest thing in the world.

Keigo isn’t surprised when he got a boner while soaring through the skies on the way to his agency. He’d been thinking about you anyways and his dick getting hard wasn’t uncommon when he thought of you. It’d be fair to say that happened often, if he’s honest.

Keigo would take note of the violent flush crawling down his neck and snaking under the fuzzy collar of his flight jacket. He’d suck his bottom lip in between his teeth and adjust his cock in his pants so it’s sticking straight up instead of outward.

He’d be able to somewhat focus on the business meeting he didn’t want to attend in the first place, only being reprimanded a few times more than normal for zoning out.

Keigo’s pulse would thunder. He’d wear a neutral expression, letting his chin rest in his propped up hand as he sent a feather to find and turn on the air because why the fuck is it so hot in here?

He’d text you something filthy as discreetly as he could under the table, biting his knuckles when you sent back a picture of yourself with your tits on display. Keigo would come to the conclusion that maybe he was a bit more pathetically horny than normal and he needed to ditch this meeting yesterday.

Keigo would go straight home, ignoring anyone who had tried to speak with him on his way out. He’d find you on the couch with nothing on but an oversized shirt and waving what’s left of the chocolate bar at him with a smirk when he entered through the balcony.

He wouldn’t even be upset when you told him what you’d done. He’d just crowd close, looming over you with a wolfish grin that shot a thrill down your spine.

Keigo would succumb to the aphrodisiac completely. He’d bend you over the backrest of the couch at hip level and wrench your arms taut behind you, fingers circling your wrists to secure you in place.

Keigo would have no mercy, sliding his cock in your tight pussy before you’re turned on enough to take him smoothly. He’d send a feather down to play with your clit until you strain to escape, not stopping despite your pleas because “this is what you wanted, isn’t it baby? yeah, so stop yapping and take it.”

In the end all you can do is nod, because if you truly wanted him to stop you’d only have to say the safe word.

Shouta would raise an eyebrow with a bored expression on his features. He’d roll his eyes and eat the chocolate after you pushed your lower lip out and fluttered your lashes at him.

Shouta’s a sucker for you.

He’d be grading papers that afternoon, knuckles rubbing at his sleepy eyes in the office of your shared home. He’d take a break, pressing his palms to his eyes and resting his elbows on the desk.

A scenario would pop into his head, one where you sat on the edge of the desk while he’d relax in his chair and lazily eat you out. He can imagine the way your clit would feel against his tongue, how warm and soft your pussy would be on his lips.

Shouta would lean back in the chair, a hand absently dropping to his lap to palm his cock and he’d be startled at just how much he’d filled out already. His dick hot and sticking to his inner thigh. Shocked at the unavoidable thick warmth swirling in his belly when it’d usually take a bit more than a brief daydream to get this worked up.

He’d be certain that you had something to do with this and irritation would lance through him. He’d sit in the kitchen once he’s finished, arms crossed and cock stubbornly refusing to flag until you returned home.

Shouta would ask you about it as if he were asking a child if they had stolen a cookie from the cookie jar. Easily, you admit to it. No hesitation, no shame, just a smug air about you.

Then, Shouta would make his fantasy a reality. He’d eat your pussy until you were right on the edge of cumming and then he’d stop. He’d speak condescendingly, saying “poor baby, your pussy just wants to cum doesn’t she?” as he sits you roughly down on his cock.

He’d spank you a few times, teasing you a bit more but he’d make you cum so intensely your toes would cramp — and then he’d keep going until his own brain got fuzzy.

Touya would say fuck no at first. He doesn’t like chocolate. Until you mention there’s something special about the sweet and he assumes it’s an edible. You don’t bother to correct him because, technically, it is an edible, just not the kind filled with weed.

Touya would be leaning his back against the railing on your balcony, angled so he can peer into the open doors of your living room. He’d have a cigarette dangling from his lips, scrubbing at his cheek with one hand because yeah, his cheeks are typically roasting but they’re never this hot.

He’d shrug it off and nonchalantly light up the cigarette with his pointer finger. He’d startle as the tiny flame bursts into a fireball that he really didn’t mean to create when you stride past the doorway in soft shorts that show the crease of where your thigh joins your ass.

You’d freeze mid step and turn to stare at him incredulously, lips parted slightly when the aftershock of heated air damn near singes your skin.

Touya would be flustered. Cheeks painted rosy pink with embarrassment at the lack of control over his quirk. He’d scowl harshly, pinching his brows together as he dropped and stomped on his cigarette to put it out. He’d stalk towards you and snarl “why the hell are you wearing those fucking shorts?” as if his sudden overbearing lust is your fault specifically.

You’d roll your eyes and begin walking in the direction you’d intended in the first place but Touya would snatch your wrist tight enough the bones grind together and drag you to your bedroom. He’d ignore your obviously fake bewildered expression and shove you onto the mattress. He can’t focus on the fact that you seem to be going along with this a bit too easily.

His cock would be jumping and pushing painfully against the zipper of his jeans before he so much as kissed you. He wouldn’t get either of you truly naked, he’d just slide your soft shorts to the side and unzip his jeans. He’d shove your shirt to your collarbone so he could watch the way your tits are about to bounce.

Touya would yank your ankles up and over his shoulders until the backs of your thighs press into his chest and then fold you in half like you’re a fucking blanket. He’d tilt his hips until his tip catches on your pussy and then he’s shoving his cock all the way inside to steal the breath from your lungs.

Touya wouldn’t have the self control to stop for a long time that evening and you’d almost regret giving him the chocolate. Almost.

4K notes · View notes