Wheres That Purring Coming From

where’s that purring coming from

PLEASE WAIT HOCKEY MIDORIYA WHO ABSOLUTELY WRECKED YOU AND FEELS SO BAD HE LICKS UP AND KISSES EVERYTHING HE’S JUST RUINED FOR ANYONE ELSE AND NOT SO ACCODENTALLY OVER STIMULATE YOU BECAUSE ITS NOT HIS FAULT YOU SOUND SO PRETTY WHINING FOR HIM-

STOP :( hockey au midoriya just trying to clean you up after basically ruining you for hours— you’re sore and a mess and it mostly starts with a way for him to clean his sticky cum from between your thighs…. but then you taste so good, the flavour of your arousal meshing with his he can’t help but groan and nuzzle deeper into your swollen cunt, lapping at your left over juices from between your folds.

it’s not until you start hiccuping and grabbing at deku’s sweaty hair to pull him away that he realises you’re way too sensitive, gasping for breath and whimpering out for him— it does nothing to calm the growing erection between him and the mattress.

“i-izuku, p-please!”

“yeah baby?”

“i think… i think i’m good now, you don’t have to eat me out again,”

please, the look he gives you after he finishes suckling on your clit— green eyes wide and desperate, chin shining with your nectar, it almost kills you. izuku looks like a kicked puppy. “no more?” he asks and you shake your head , but he doesn’t listen. oh no, he worked his ass off to win that game today and if he’s gonna eat you out as his reward; then he god damn will.

where there's smoke, there's fire - izuku x reader

summary: it's hard to get out of a loving relationship.

cw: yandere, horror, home invasion, manipulative behavior, abusive relationship, reader's kinda sick in the head too, smut, fem!parts, noncon/dubcon, oral sex (fem!receiving), penetrative sex

a/n: idk every overpowered person needs a killswitch ig.

You awake from a nightmare.

It's the type that has you bolting straight up to a sitting position, head pounding, throat dry and heart thumping in your chest in a frenzy. You're not sure what the dream was about, just that you were out cold for an unspecified amount of time, and while a sense of malaise is still set deep in your bones, there's an even more substantial leaden feeling in your arms, as though parts of you are still waking up.

And something is wrong, something that isn't neatly contained within the realm of REM sleep. You can sense it, keenly. It is dark in your room, and when your eyes finally adjust, you’re shocked to realize that your home is filled top to bottom with a thick haze of smoke.

Gasping, you then cover your mouth, remembering everything fire safety has taught you. Yet somehow, something about the smoke is wrong. There's no alarm going off from your smoke detectors, and you had an inspection recently, so you know those work. The smoke seems... wrong: too thick and evenly spread to be coming from a fire whose heat isn't close enough to feel. When you crawl out of the bed carefully, kicking off satin sheets, and using your fingers to make your way through the dense veneer, you realize it's still cold in fact, cold enough that you are shivering.

Perhaps it is fear that keeps the fine hairs on the back of your neck on end.

Still trailing around your mattress you maneuver further, waving a hand through the smoke. Maybe if you can find your phone, left charging on your dresser for once and not thrown irresponsibly on the other side of your bed as you slept, you can figure out what’s going on and call for help.

Your heart is still pounding, a thump, thump, thump, that is relentless.

The smoke smells wrong.

You find your phone, and somehow manage to turn on your flashlight.

The smoke is...

purple.

Your eyes widen with realization and you start to turn quickly.

"Izuku-"

There's a flash of green that seems to leap out of the darkness before you can begin to scream, and a body collides with yours, with the sensation almost like being hit by a moving vehicle in terms of speed and power; it takes your breath away, and a hand clasped firmly over your mouth refuses to let you draw a breath.

The smoke doesn't dissipate, not yet, but you can see him now, almost too clearly, and then your eyes water and your vision clouds.

"I missed you," he says, matter-of-factly. As if he hadn’t just broken into your home. As if he were welcome.

You try to say something but both the hand sealing away your voice and the firm hold he has on your body, pressing it close against his as he leans you against the dresser, allows you no such justice. Your phone crashes off the surface too loudly, and the squeak of the legs as the dresser slides across wooden flooring pierces through your ears.

Izuku's grin is wide and unsettling, like a feral cat delighted to finally have caught its unsuspecting prey. His teeth are disturbingly white in the dark, and his eyes still gleam like electricity in a storm. He doesn't need to use OFA to trap you, and nevertheless, you can see it ripple through his body as a form of intimidation.

By now, he knows that you've already given up flight, and he loves that you know that he knows. You stare at each other for a moment, recognizing the gravity of the situation, and time freezes for a split second.

Then it resumes.

"Say it back," he mutters now, dropping his hand. You'd forgotten to breathe in all this time, not even daring to inhale from your nose, and now suck in a huge volume of air, crying as you breathe it out.

He lets you weep silently for a few more moments, your hands digging deep into the edge of the dresser, watching you with the blank expression that is so unlike him but also far too much like him. It's the one that is devoid of his usual compassion, once he's decided that you are in no way worth saving but rather something to be dealt with. Swiftly, efficiently. When you catch it and recognize it for what it is, your blood runs cold and suddenly your tears dry up. They’re pointless.

"Say it back." his tone is more demanding now, and you shake your head.

"I didn-"

"Say it back." he repeats again, and he advances. The smoke is starting to clear finally, ever so slightly, and you can see a little more of him. He is superficially the same as you remember before you disappeared on him just a few months ago - same broad shoulders and imposing height, heroic frame despite the boyish, freckled face - but there’s a faint pallor under his skin, and he's just very slightly more gaunt, something you can peek from the neckline of his plain blue t-shirt, and there is a very slight tremulousness that extends to his fingertips that reminds you he is much more angry than he wants to let on.

You step back reflexively and consider standing your ground, and then you remember that the same hands that once held your face gently have leveled a building to that same ground, and you swallow hard.

"I-it's been a while." your voice is barely audible, weak, not much more than a whisper.

"That's not what I asked you to say," Izuku catches immediately. But he allows it, leaning in, and his face is all smiles again. Your stomach turns and again you're leaning back, but all that is behind you is a hard surface, and he even helps you up there, immediately hoisting you onto the short dresser so that your back presses against a mirror, something that can so easily break. 

It’s not really that unlike you now that you think about it. You are just as fragile.

He snorts.

"Did you think I couldn't find you?" he asks.

You shake your head and he laughs, and quicker than a flash he's grabbed your face by the underside of your chin, squishing your cheeks together in mock intimacy.

"How cute."

Your throat dries up again enough that a sharp breath would make you choke and sputter.

His eyes dart back and forth, inspecting every part of your body, from your face to your neck, bosom to your upper limbs, then your thighs, bare in pajama shorts. You feel unreasonably vulnerable, like he has x-ray vision, seeing to the very center of your person. There is an impulse to cover your chest, despite being covered tastefully in a tank top, and when you try to cross your arms, he forces them back to their sides.

There's a gasp you let out and then you bite your lip silent, afraid to make him angry. Izuku glares at you, licking his lips.

"You realize I only let you go so you could get back to your senses, right?"

This has you taken aback, despite all your fear. What does he mean, 'get back to your senses'? You meant it when you left. Things had felt wrong for far too long, and the walls were starting to close in... calling too much, worrying too much, comments about your clothing and your comings and goings, nervous about any men who he wasn't aware of becoming too familiar, even your own brother... It had all become too much the longer you dated and suddenly you were a frog nearly half-boiled, realizing it was almost too late.

Maybe it is too late now. Izuku, you can tell, is still in his own twisted way, in love with you.

After all, his hand is running gently the length of your thigh as he waits for you to speak. You won't speak, but you know you can't look away, lest he throw a real tantrum. As if stalking you right now and demanding you tell him you missed him is not tantrum enough.

The smoke continues to clear.

"You're taking too long to apologize, my love." he says, once his hand has reached your face again, and he's tilting your face to look at him. You allow him to move you, like a warm life-size doll, not a human with thoughts and feelings of your own.

"I've missed you so much... sure i've been busy, but going home to that cold bed without you, night after night? How cruel can you be?"

He turns to look at your own bed, smaller than the one you shared but still enough space for two.

"Do you still sleep on the left side?" he asks. This time he's not looking at you, still staring at the mangled sheets on both ends.

He turns back to you now, expecting an answer, and when you don't give him one immediately, he repeats himself again, sharply.

"Do you?"

"Yes." you admit, wondering why it sounds like a grave confession. He smiles, and you try not to look at him. and yet he tilts you face back in his direction before asking you another question.

"Bunny, you're so cruel, you know that? Valentine's day?" he asks. His eyebrow raises  and he tilts his head to the side. "How could you leave me on Valentine's day?"

When should I have? you ask in your head, thankful he can't hear your thoughts.

"I had a ring, love. I wanted to marry you, maybe that day even. We could sign some papers and disappear with each other for a little while… It could have been such a beautiful thing, you know how badly I need a break! So imagine how it felt to see that you were long gone!"

Izuku's grip on your chin tightens for a moment, then he pushes you slightly. The back of your head taps gently at the mirror behind you, but it doesn't hurt and the glass doesn't break, even if there is a sting where his fingers pressed onto your skin.

He steps back and laughs again, really laughs, hands running through his hair as he doubles over in amusement. 

"I looked so stupid! flowers and chocolate and stuffed animals and sparklers... I was going to fly you up to the highest point and write our names in the sky.. I was..." his voice trails off, and he is staring off into space. You are shaking now, crying too, somewhere between terrified and enraged the longer he speaks.

His eyes narrow as his gaze snaps back to you from your sniffling sound.

"Say what you want to say, dove." The edge in his voice is palpable though, as if he is expecting a hit that he will return with just as much fervor.

“You can't force me.” Vitriol seeps from your voice but it’s shaky and unconvincing.

And so he laughs, again, sinking down finally onto your bed, and laying backward, an action that makes you almost furious. A mocking laugh, arms spreading like he would make a snow angel; bile rises in your throat and you fidget but you don't move, knowing that your break for it has to be smart if it will be successful.

"But you can make me fall for you?" he asks, through humorless chuckles. "That's not fair, is it?"

Bolder now, you retort, "I didn't make you do anything."

Izuku doesn't like this response, moving fast enough that one second he's off the bed and right in your face and the other second has you thrown onto the mattress itself; so fast that you barely register it until your back is where his back was, and he is hovering right on top of you.

"You approached me first." This is said harshly, as though he is regretful of that fateful encounter and you resist the urge to spit in his face.

No, you just said hi to him first, and he was smitten that you'd given him any attention, The cute but admittedly terribly awkward boy sitting alone in a coffee shop, with an extra chair that you'd wanted to borrow for your friends. Maybe you'd given him too long of eye contact, maybe it was the fact that you didn't know who he was yet; maybe you had flirted a little the second time you met, but who wouldn't when having a chance to meet the charming hero on television, the one who hugged children and petted dogs and smiled to the camera and disappeared villains in the blink of an eye?

How could you have known he had a couple screws loose? He was so good otherwise.

Until the paranoia set in. the obsession with you and your safety and your innocence and you belonging to him and the constant explaining away of unhinged behavior, and the long periods of absence with sudden, extreme and unending demands for intimacy - he was making you as crazy as he was.

"I didn't know you were insane."  you finally say, looking straight up into his eyes, brazen behavior arising from three years of almost pulling your hair out and three short months of fear.

His eyes widen, and for a split second he looks furious, and in his eyes you suddenly see a storm - in fact, you imagine your entire home up in flames and lightning instead of smoke - and then he kisses you.

You fight back, but the grip on your wrists is like wrought iron - in fact, as though making a mockery of you as he leans all of his weight on top of you, he shifts your wrists forced at your sides to rest above your head, then uses one hand to keep them together, the other stroking the side of your face gently. The longer you kick at him, the longer he presses your legs down, then adjusts his weight to pin you fully, the longer you can feel your head start to spin from lack of air in your lungs.

"Settle down." he orders you, once you're almost dizzy, as the fight quickly makes its way out of you. He forces his tongue down your throat and suddenly, eventually, instead of biting you accept it, because this is a body you know, and a body that you've fought but you've also held, and the taste of his tongue is the same as it's always been.

His weight is familiar, and the way he sucks your tongue and his lips clash with yours is intimate, and again your fighting spirit drains further and further. Your limbs grow limp and he adjusts, now less on top of you and more fitted against you, large body accommodating to the spread of your legs.

He pulls back, and your eyelids flutter. Izuku looks at you with an unnatural amount of love, an unsettling amount of love, a love that is crushingly abundant and inescapable.

You hear him whisper, "that's my girl."

It should make you angry, but instead you're tired, exhausted even, and then you're comforted, because why fight him when you won't win and when he loves you anyway?

Will anyone else ever feel this strongly about you, enough to remove any obstacles in your path, even if it is your own silly will to be free? Will anyone else be so willing to be your own personal monster, at your beck and call?

You have the power to make the prison your home. After all, you are not only stuck to him, he is just as much stuck to you.

Deku is a good hero. Izuku is a good man. He is your man.

He’s strange, and he’s terrifying, but that’s because he is special. Unique. You have to understand where he’s coming from. If not you, then who else?

Your hands curl into his hair, tugging softly and your body shifts too, legs wrapping around his waist keeping him snug against you. You know if he wanted to, he would as easily melt into your skin as he wishes you would consume him. After all, what else runs through his head all day? It is only natural that separation from you should make him this anxious, this self- and outwardly destructive.

There is tragedy just as much as there is comedy and joy in fate.

"Do you love me?" you ask, as you feel Izuku grow against you with every wave of his body against your center. He nips and bites at you relentlessly, leaving hickeys everywhere he can reach. Marking you, marking you, marking you.

"Yes," he whispers. He kisses your earlobes, and your hands reach the side of his face, cupping them so that he faces you.

"Do you love me enough to ever let me go?" you ask again.

Are your eyes pleading for mercy? You know that they are wet with tears, but you can still see him. He's beautiful when he's not angry, when he's not afraid or stressed or vengeful. The sweetest man. A man you've loved. Someone you still love even if you are afraid.

Izuku shakes his head quickly, and tears fill his eyes.

"I love you too much for that to be possible."

You nod, and a tear slides sideways down your cheek. He'll never understand. Maybe one day you’ll accept it, when you’ve both grown too old to argue.

"Good."

He dips down low and kisses you and this time, you accept him more readily. It takes not long for your clothes and his clothes to be shed, and your naked bodies to press together fervently, the once freezing room now hot with twisted passion. Izuku bites your lower lip and asks you who else has touched you since him.

“No one, Izu,” you whisper. 

He’s pleased to hear it, not that you could safely give him any other answer. His cock presses hot and heavy against your pubic bone; he hasn’t entered you yet, and you wonder how he’s managed to wait this long before stuffing you full.

Izuku kisses your forehead, then your nose, then lifts himself up so that he’s rested on his haunches. You gasp as he drags your lower half upwards to his mouth as easily as lifting a glass of water, and sips, then gulps your center down, thirstily like your pussy is an oasis and he is a weary traveler seeking solace.

He’s moaning, palming your ass cheeks with fervor as he slurps you down - worse so because he is loud as he eats you up - your back arches and you grab fistfuls of his hair as you whine and mewl and squirm under his touch. It’s too much, it’s always too much and yet you can feel your head swim with pleasure the longer he goes on. 

After all, he just loves you so much, he just has a heavy-handed way of showing it. 

“God, you taste so good,” he whispers into your folds. “You’re so beautiful, you’re everything, I need you so much, bunny, don’t you know?” His tongue circles around your clit, licks long stripes to the taint, dips into your center; he sucks at your folds, bites gently even, ignoring the straggled gasp you let out, or the way your legs tighten around his shoulders as you tense up and explode into climax.

As you shudder and shake as he lets you go, laying you back down to recover from the first blinding orgasm, he whispers that you are beautiful again, and again, and again. 

You know you’re beautiful. He’s told you so many times already, enough that even if you stare at the mirror and think of yourself as less than perfect, you can hear him over and over again in your head.

Beautiful. Perfect. Gorgeous. His.

You are his.

Izuku takes no time filling you to the hilt once your breathing evens out - or once he runs out of patience - and you wince as you adjust to his size, but it’s a mostly pleasurable burning stretch as he bullies his way into your pussy, letting out a sigh as he nestles deep where he belongs, and he actually smiles, relief that you can see in the dim light when he presses his forehead again close to yours.

“Don’t we fit together perfectly?”

“Mm, ‘zuku,” you reply in the affirmative. Mollified and malleable you are now, as you should be for him, your voice is soft, barely a whisper, wavering only with the twitch of his cock inside you.

Izuku kisses your earlobe, and rolls you so that you lay above him, forcing you upright.

“So I can see you better,” he says as he nudges you, and understanding, you support your weight gently with your palms. He won’t make you ride him, he’ll do all the movement himself, but he loves to see the bounce of your breasts as they do now with every thrust upwards. Every gasp and sigh as you hold on to him, the twist of your features, the way you throw your head back when he has a firm grip on your hips and really goes to town; how you shake when you climax, squeezing your quivering thighs together in time with your fluttering walls, drawing in deep breaths for lewd, lewd moans. 

Izuku plays you like a fucking fiddle.

He pleasures you first, because oh goodness, he can outlast you nearly any day of the week, drawing climax after climax out of you until you’re dumb and quiet, waiting for the thick spurts of cum to fill you up.

He’s done this enough times, until you’re craving and needy and forget why you’re mad in the first place.

Dick sick and sick in the head, just as much as he is. 

And just like that, he forces his way back into your life. Legs tangled together as you sleep, lives intertwined anew like nothing ever happened.

You’ll become a very good liar yet again, but for now, as he rests, his face nestled into your bosom and hold unbreakable and inescapable, you decide to sleep, and leave your love problems to the morning to come.

attractive things kirishima does 

➳ a/ n ;; there are many versions of this post im just spitting my brainrot out 

♡ responds to your attitude with a little playful pout and tells you “play nice” or tilts his head to the side and goes “’scuse me? wanna repeat that?” 

♡ orders food for you and gets it right every time. corrects the waiter without you having to ask and brushes it off so you don’t feel guilty. 

♡ rubs out the knots in your calves after you’ve been standing all day 

♡ puts his hand infront of you when he drives and you hit a hard stop 

♡ stands behind you when you go out so no one can check you out </3 

♡ his lockscreen is a live picture of you in your favorite outfit 

♡ doesn’t get angry when you make fun of him about something, just gives you a smug laugh and agrees with you, completely unbothered 

♡ lets his roots grow out.. lord have mercy 

♡ leans down to listen to you speak 

♡ holds your hand but lets his thumb brush against the back of your hand 

♡ lets you win when you playfight since it’s cute to see you get excited. 

♡ good with kids at every single age. just so sweet to them and they always love him. little siblings and cousins especially 

♡ kisses you ask for chapstick instead of just putting some on. 

♡ DRIVES SHIFT 

♡ moves you around like a ragdoll no matter what size you are cause he’s strong as shit 

WOOOOOOOOWEEE

hii i just wanted to say that your writing is SO GOOD!! i saw that your requests are open so i’d love to see a hiromi (jjk) x reader fanfic because i haven’t seen nearly enough smut fanfics of him 😔💔 would lowkey love to see soft!dom hiromi or switch!hiromi but it’s your choice 🙏🏻🙏🏻 thanks for reading this, obviously if you’re not comfy with it then feel free to ignore this req!

❤︎ ໋𓈒 hiromi talking you through your first orgasm

warnings. fem! reader, soft dom! hiromi, cowgirl, praise, overstim, mdni.

an. thank YOUUUU SM !! <3

“hey, sweetheart don’t be shy,” he murmurs against your neck. you intake a sharp breath with your arms thrown around him. he stares at you with a soft smile, brushing a thumb against your cheek before planting a wet kiss against your mouth. “you’re close, aren’t you?”

“yeah…” you whined, burying your face into the crook of his name. higuruma lowly chuckles against your ear, he’s stuffed deep inside you, and you’re barely moving your hips—you shook, feeling the bundle of nerves all throughout your body commence into a sudden electrifying surge.

albeit, he was very much patient with you.

you melted into his embrace, gradually rocking your hips, and he softly drags your waist further against him. a raspy grunt leaving his mouth before he purrs. “mhm…easy, there we go, good girl. don’t rush. just like that. lean into me, baby. i got you.”

his words warmed its way into your heart and you let off a moan from the utter thickness of his dick stretching out your walls.

despite his girth easily outlining its way inside of your pussy, it felt good. he finds it cute the way you tremble against his touch, your legs trembling above him. “h—hiromi,” you panted, your voice being a bit more whiney — the coldness of his watch material dances against your skin, and it makes you shudder in desperate rapture. “i feel it, ‘s gonna.. ‘m gonna cum.”

“you are,” he whispers, kissing the inner part of your neck. “so be a good girl and give it to me, okay? nice ‘n slow, focus on your breathing for me baby.”

your hips bucked and bucked against higuruma in free will. eyes rolling, nearly drooling. you don’t think you’ve ever experienced a feeling like this. intimate, sure but you’ve always found it hard to please yourself. let alone find it embarrassing to even think of touching yourself.

alas, the moment you asked your lover, higuruma.. he was more than happy to comply. he wanted you to feel good, and that you were.

your mouth tasted a bit salty, and your nails dug into the thick fabric of his lazily half-on tux. higuruma smelt enchanting.

his cologne was just something you could never get enough of. the way he softly ghosts his fingertips against your bare ass.

so soft, it tickled for a brief moment before he brings his fingers towards your waist, outlining your curves — in his eyes, you were nothing more than a perfect girl to him.

“such a pretty body,” he utters, a groan nearly slipping past his lips. your head remained hidden into the side of his neck, gingerly nipping against his skin and he chuckles. “—and an even more playful girl.”

“hiromi, it feels— feels…”

you whimper, languidly leaning into his touch. each time your words got cut off by the sensations of your own cunt, your mind went fuzzy.

you could barely comprehend anything. buried into the hilt, he’s sinking into you with such gentle yet full throttle. “i know, baby. i feel it too. you’re getting me all…sensitive myself.”

his words made you throb, the way he’d pitch his voice and give you a teasing grin — you studied his facial expressions.

his pretty hooked nose that you’d kiss all over, the small dimples stretching near the corners of his lips unintentionally whenever he spoke a sentence. it always went on, higuruma treated you like a doll.

“just let go for me, princess. don’t gotta be shy to get a little filthy around me.” he whispers, kissing near the outer lobe of your ear.

you left off a soft moan against his ear, and the hairs beneath his neck stood up just from your voice. you felt your thigh start to shake just a bit as you steadily rutted your hips against him again and again and again. “oh, what—? you tryin' to give me a kiss, baby?”

he chuckles, watching you tilt your face forward, just missing his lips due to your eyes closed and he smiles. “come here, princess.”

you moaned into his mouth, swathing your arms around him and his lips curve into a warm smile. you tasted sweet…

indescribable yet entirely sugary. higuruma’s tongue grazes against your own before you started to jolt and shake, feeling it. he runs a hand down your back to soothe you before you’re cumming, whining.

higuruma shushes you, parting your legs for a brief moment before uttering once he moves his lips away.

“i know, i know. relax,” and he presses you against his chest to kiss your forehead. “good girl. such a good pretty girl,” and he softly strokes the back of your head — dick still twitching inside of you. you’re murmuring inaudible nothings of straight babbles and he smiles to himself. “that was just one orgasm, i wonder how’d you be if i pull another one out of you, princess.”

please i’m in class losing it

attractive things kirishima does 

➳ a/ n ;; there are many versions of this post im just spitting my brainrot out 

♡ responds to your attitude with a little playful pout and tells you “play nice” or tilts his head to the side and goes “’scuse me? wanna repeat that?” 

♡ orders food for you and gets it right every time. corrects the waiter without you having to ask and brushes it off so you don’t feel guilty. 

♡ rubs out the knots in your calves after you’ve been standing all day 

♡ puts his hand infront of you when he drives and you hit a hard stop 

♡ stands behind you when you go out so no one can check you out </3 

♡ his lockscreen is a live picture of you in your favorite outfit 

♡ doesn’t get angry when you make fun of him about something, just gives you a smug laugh and agrees with you, completely unbothered 

♡ lets his roots grow out.. lord have mercy 

♡ leans down to listen to you speak 

♡ holds your hand but lets his thumb brush against the back of your hand 

♡ lets you win when you playfight since it’s cute to see you get excited. 

♡ good with kids at every single age. just so sweet to them and they always love him. little siblings and cousins especially 

♡ kisses you ask for chapstick instead of just putting some on. 

♡ DRIVES SHIFT 

♡ moves you around like a ragdoll no matter what size you are cause he’s strong as shit 

a me’s man

i think the thing i like about kirishima is just that hes a mans man but like actually. he probably is traditional and chivalrous. he pays for your dates and fills your car up with gas. pulls your chair out for you at restaurants and helps you put on your heels or tie your sneakers. hes not especially delicate. hes tall and strong with a boyish laugh and a tough features. all sharp teeth and so rowdy. he owns a chain that he wears with everything and theres no crease in his sneakers. he plays basketball and drinks milk out of the carton but hes just the sweetest to you. he dresses well but not formal. he snores and has hair in every place that matters - coarse and dark. but he treats you better than anyone else. a mans man but in the good way, the attractive way that makes you lean into him more than you ever planned to. ykwim?