#morikyo

[ouranconfessions]

even if it is the World's Least Popular Ship ive always been fond of kyoya x mori,,,, little black haired guys who could destroy you either emotionally or physically ,,,,, im fond of them

[kinky-pen]

Do you have any nsfw headcanons for Mori x Kyoya... based on your earlier nsfw headcanon post I think their sexual dynamic would be really interesting

Okay! MoriKyo is close to my heart, and I wish we had more content for them - both sfw and nsfw, so I'll do a few headcanons for each.

SFW

The most drama-free pairing in the entire host club - the entire series. They settled into cute domesticity so quickly, and they both have the emotional intelligence to sort things out without the huge dramatics. They're already an old married couple.

Mori loves picking bouquets for Kyoya when he goes hiking. Sometimes, however, he doesn't know when to say enough is enough, and so every available surface of the apartment gets covered in vases of flowers.

Honeymoon period? More like honeymoon relationship. They never really lull when it comes to physical or spoken signs of affection. Anyone who doesn't know them is going to assume their a new couple - even nearly 10 years into their relationship like my wife and I

Would probably get married the quickest of any couple in the host club. Not only do they love each other and are just generally really compatible, but their families are more than happy with the match! The Ootori's are such a powerful family, and the Morinozuka's are great allies - especially as they usually come with the Haninozuka's as a buy-1-get-1-free sort of deal.

Prefer to stay in for dates, as opposed to going out. They like curling up with a movie, or reading together, or just talking. They're still making time for each other without work, so it is still totally a date.

NSFW

Mori's favourite thing is hearing Kyoya in the midst of pleasure. His keens and moans, the half-demands for more that just come out as whines and begging. The loves his serious, near-stoic boyfriend being so loud and wanting.

Kyoya loves how easily Mori could overpower him. He puts up a playful little fight sometimes, just to feel bruising around his wrists and a large hand around his throat. It's too good to fight back anymore after that, however, and so he's left grinding up against whatever part of the other man he can get to - his thigh, his hip, his abs...

I think a big kink of theirs would be pet play, Kyoya being the cutest kitten for his loving owner. Mori's natural service top manner really comes out with that sort of scene, giving his sweet pet treats and letting Kyoya rest in his lap and on top of him.

Despite deeply respecting each other and their schedules, knowing they have time-sensitive deadlines and need the most respect from those around them... these horny fucks are both the type to send each other lewd stuff while working. It doesn't even have to be full sexting or nudes, just little suggestive things.

Although, Mori has opened a voice note in a meeting and has thrown his phone across the room as a moan echoed from it. Yep, just like the meme. Hikaru showed the meme to Kyoya and the little shit was curious as to what Mori would do. The answer? Kyoya couldn't walk for a few days... Or leave the bed, as he was very tied up. He really enjoyed it lol.

[ko-fanatic]

🌹

Okay, so as I’ve decided that I do want to continue Rotten Palaces (at least for now, we’ll see), have some cute MoriKyo interaction!

"Ootori!" 

He startled slightly, looking around before seeing the distinctive, cropped hair and large build of his lifelong friend, a smile stretching his lips and his chest fluttering in a pleasant way. A warm way. 

"Morinozuka!" He replied in kind, the two of them meeting on the staircase. Mori had gotten taller yet again since he'd left Ouran, it seemed, now a whole head taller than Kyoya, "You should have told me you were back. Father's been concerned that you had fled to the Outer Hebrides, never to return to civilisation again."

"As attractive an idea as that is," The taller man nodded, his steady, calm voice betraying just a hint of amusement, "I can't very well help others if I'm living my life as a hermit. I did go to Edinburgh to study. In fact, I'm setting up my own office as it is, on the floor just above us. Not enough heart specialists here, as you well know."

"No, but the great Morinozuka is here to provide this crucial service," He teased, smirking, to which Mori just rolled his eyes.

[hostclubtotallysaidthis]

Kyoya: I want to wake up with you for the rest of my life.

Mori: I get up at 5 am.

Kyoya, spinning on his heel and walking away quickly: Never mind.

[insomniacfics]

morikyo for bedroom now please tysm

I’m like starting to get into this pairing in the weirdest way actually!

Kyoya moaned as he grinded against his fiance. Their clothes were disheveled on the couch as they moved and grinded into each other. Kyoya groaned softly as Takashi kissed and nipped at his neck, gripping his hips and bucking his hips up.

“Fuck...Mori,” Kyoya muttered.

Takashi just smirked at the old nickname. “What’s wrong, Kyo?” He teased, pressing his erection right against his. He couldn’t help the feral pleasure he got from tormenting the man. “What do you want?”

“Bedroom. Now,” Kyoya begged. “Dammit, Mori. C’mon.”

Takashi hummed and moved Kyoya’s hips for him, pressing his erection against him. “I think I like you begging.”

[ko-fanatic]

Rotten Palaces (Part one)

Rating: Mature

Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club

Pairings: KyoKao, MoriKyo, HikaKao, TamaHika

Summary:  Kyoya Ootori, throughout his life, knew one thing for definite: Ghosts were real. (Crimson Peak AU)

TW: Ghosts, Murder, Major Character Death, Gore, Incest (NOT FOR KINK), Abuse, Major Illness, Poisonings

The rain fell in sheets upon both cobblestone and black umbrellas alike, the sky a dark, unseemly grey. It was appropriate, Kyoya supposed, given the occasion; however, the chill practically forced him against his sister's side, hands fisted in her heavy, black coat.

It wasn't all that usual for him to be out in the cold, at eight o'clock sharp in the morning, being a somewhat sickly child and recommended rest at every possible moment. Don't get upset, or excited, or in any highly emotional state be it positive or negative, lest his arrhythmia and generally weak heart take their toll too greatly to recover from. 

However, the most recent death in the family, in an unexpected turn, was not his own. 

He sniffed, forcing himself to not turn away as the coffin was carried through the group of darkly clad, sombre people. His mother contracted black cholera, and the disease seemed to both take its time, and progress quicker than anything so permanent should. She was whisked away and his father had ordered a closed casket. 

No kiss goodbye, nothing to truly solidify that she was gone. He would never speak such a terrible thought aloud but she'd died as she lived – distantly; his life only tangibly connected to hers. It still hurt, to know that he wouldn't see her joyful smile when she did share meals with him. He clung to her as a parent who was not as stern or imposing as his father. He would miss that.

Though Kyoya was sheltered, he wasn’t gullible. He was bright, with a wicked wit for his young age, and didn't suffer fools; just as expected of his father's sons. He knew, as he aged that the distance between them would one day become insurmountable, much further than a mere six feet of soil and grass. This pain would pass soon; he just prayed it would be soon enough.

He had been put to bed early after the wake, tuts of sleep improving his heart or some other rubbish Fuyumi believed to make herself feel more confident that he wouldn't fall into eternal rest as well. They just lost Mother, so she was clinging far tighter than usual, but he didn't mind. He was exhausted after the day's events, and was grateful to retire early. To smile through more condolences would picked the scab off his proverbial wound, over and over. 

A creak sounded, and something cold washed over him, despite the plushness of the blankets. 

"Fuyumi...?" He questioned, limbs uncooperative as he yelled at himself to turn over and see the source of the noise. 

No answer. His breath caught in his throat, chest lodged in a gradually tightening vice, and the seconds that ticked by could be mistaken for hours. Ridiculous, he admonished himself mentally, absolutely ridiculous reaction. Still, something screamed in him, begged him to stay still as if he were a rabbit caught in the gaze of a snake. 

Harsh breathing that wasn't his own overtook his senses, just about breaking his trance. Well, cracked it, really; he managed to make himself peer over his shoulder. 

Staggering down the hall was a horrifying apparition, black and shrouded in wisps of smoke, or something of that kind. He buried himself in the blankets, his fragile heart beating so hard that he could feel the arrhythmia himself, and prayed for whatever monstrous vision this was to leave him be. Unlike childish fears of dark nights passed, this demon refused to simply slip back into the ether. 

"My dear child," It whispered to him, a cruel mockery of his mother's tender tone, rasping through its decayed throat as the mattress shifted, a familiar body curling against his back. Sharp, bony fingers carded through his hair, and his mind wove images of her dragging him into death's arms with her, to keep her youngest child as close as could be through eternity and beyond.

It was so close he could smell the decay, and it wheezed a single warning, "When the time comes, beware of the bloody manor."

He couldn't contain it any longer, bolting upright, a scream leaving his throat, desperate and wishing to be saved from the waking nightmare he found himself in.

He didn't stop until Mr Tachibana ran into his room, frantically asking what on earth happened, why he was screaming like the devil himself was in his room. It shook him out of his hysteria, frantically tossing his head to-and-fro in some attempt to see where the thing so like his mother had disappeared to; but it was no use. As quickly as it had materialised, it was gone, leaving only the vestiges of heart-stopping terror in its wake. 

"It..." He panted, turning over the event in his head, trying to avoid the possibility of being locked up in Bedlam for such nonsense as a dead woman returning to deliver a cryptic message, "It must have been a nightmare... Apologies for waking you..."

"Not at all," The man tutted, waving away the apology, "I'd much rather be woken and know that you're alright than sleep right through something... Well... Important."

It was a fair enough statement, even if he had missed the disturbing incident. All was... Well, not fine. Because Kyoya knew a couple of things. Firstly, that this was no nightmare, the stench of rot and the feeling of bone in his hair too vivid to be merely in his own mind. Secondly, well...

Ghosts are real.

A/N: HALLOWEEN TIME IS HERE! So, this project is kind of a challenge I set myself, where I'm hoping to update it every day of October. I want to just get this completed to show myself I can actually sit down and write, and if I can do this I can update my other works. Just a warning that the title might change, so keep an eye out for that.

[kinky-pen]

Honestly Mori with Kyoya as a feedee sounds amazing, like Kyoya wanting to be stuffed while Mori is being gentle but not wanting to go overboard (kinda unintentionally teasing him) until Kyoya has to beg for more...

This is honestly an amazing concept, and I’ve had an idea for this for a few months, but I’ve not been up to writing much. Kyoya’s so willing to please and to show Mori just how much he can eat, all for him. At the same time though, he’s just there like “Mori, I want to be stuffed ffs”. 

Kyoya is A+ at begging Mori for more however, he knows just how to push all those buttons and drive the other boy wild. Let’s just say he’s going to get real fluffy and thicc, real quickly.

[ko-fanatic]

If Anatole is a sinner, then I am no better [one shot]

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club

Pairings: MoriKyo, KyoKao, TamaKyo

Summary: Mori observes the fitting from a distance, admiring the pale, bare skin of Kyoya's arms and shoulders, and thinks of Tolstoy, Natasha and Anatole.

All he can do is stare, and he realises how he's fallen in that very moment.

With the great success of the Great Comet, the host club were almost obligated to pay it homage in at least one afternoon, donning the luxurious aesthetics of imperial Russia and - of course - dressing appropriately. There was much debate over the subject of casting, but as he stares at Kyoya as the young man twirled his many skirts and crinoline, voluminous and the black a perfect contrast against the pale, exposed flesh of his bare arms and shoulders, he realised their now obvious mistake.

He's in a military uniform, surveying the scene from a distance, but he's no Andre. He's not the fiancé separated from his love by war, he's not the prince they wish to whisk them away.

He's not a hero, he's Anatole. He's a man who lusts over those he can't have, seducing the naive Natasha into a thoroughly preposterous elopement, wishes to kiss and make love to her despite its lack of morality and even legality.

He thinks about how beautifully Kyoya sings, the opera fiasco when Natasha both wants and fears Anatole seizing her and kissing her neck. Intimate, far too familiar. Anatole is a character that long fell out of favour, and for a reason; too passion and impulse driven, too hedonistic, too careless. One who was a dream all that time ago, in such a repressed era, but now was only seen as something to despise.

It makes sense, but as he watches Kyoya fluttering his eyelashes at their Anatole - an infatuated Kaoru - he feels... sympathetic, almost. Wanting something you're unable to have is not just the fault of sinners, unless his character had degraded further than he thought.

Because he loves like any other man, and who couldn't love such a beauty as the raven-haired boy?

Tamaki takes Kyoya's hand and places a soft, courtly kiss on the back of his hand. Pierre, assigned as such by Renge, who said that the studious loner who wished himself better was closer to Tamaki's real self than anyone would like to admit. He concedes to that, but the blond did actually take strides to better himself whereas Pierre seemed to stay stagnating in it for most of the play.

There are carefree laughs and jokes, like usual. He can see the spark in Kyoya's eyes, glasses cast off and no longer placing that barrier between himself and the world, and then he's walking over to him, and Mori doesn't even know what he's doing. He lets himself move on instinct, like the man he should be playing.

"You look... bewitching..." He admits, and it seems Kyoya flushes much more easily when without his glasses, his pallor making the blood rushing to his cheeks even more obvious. He makes a beautiful young lady, especially with how he naturally and demurely shifts his gaze to the floor.

"Oh Andre," Kyoya breathed, looking up with a twitch at the edge of his painted lip, "I want you now, at once."

This time, he blushed scarlet, Kaoru turning to face them both as Kyoya took his hands and pulled him into a dance. With his hands on the boy's tiny waist, only emphasised by the corset beneath, he couldn't help but think of other sins as they spun around the room, sharp gazes directed at the man who was whisking away such a beauty.

He could do as Anatole did, confess his love and force a kiss on those perfect lips, but he wouldn't. He couldn't. That wasn't the sort of man he was, after all. He was steady, and slow, and the one who couldn't have the fair Natasha. He wished he was more like Andre, in that moment...

It would probably be better if he weren't here.