The Best Writing Is Almost Always The Most Self-indulgent. Write It And Someone Will Read It.

When you're at the Denial Stage of a fic idea but the meet cute keeps replaying in your head

♡ Kissed By The Baddest Villain ♡

Link To Masterlist

WC: ~3,000

CW: dirty talk, unprotected sex, oral sex, praise kink, fem dom, loss of virginity. Proof read but no beta.

Ch 10: How Lucky

You’ve been trying to wear Spinner down for what feels like an impossibly long time. 

Seasons have changed. Holidays have passed. And your patience is beginning to wear quite thin. He was supposed to be close to his limit weeks ago!

You know he’s attracted to you. You can feel the length of him digging into your back any time you sit in his lap and fudge your way through Majora's Mask, his breaths hot and choppy against your nape, hands firmly planted at each side of his body to restrict himself from grabbing you. At least you thought so.

What gives? You guys have made out already, so why doesn’t he respond to any of your come-ons?

The thought that he was the one teasing you all this time irks you in a way which you hadn’t thought to be possible. Especially on days like today.

As much as you would love to pretend that the action-packed lifestyle of loaning out your quirk is always fun and lucrative, you’ve found yourself struggling to find proper clothing that’s a) easily stolen, and b) can withstand all of the grime and damage that comes along with fighting. You’re currently trying your best to salvage a pair of jeans, but unfortunately, it’s looking like this is a job for the laundromat.

“Would you like for me to mend them?” Kurogiri asks between swipes of cleaning cloth to a shot glass. 

“No, but thank you. I don’t mind my own patchwork so much as I do the dead Nomu smell that I can’t seem to wash out of them,” you pleat the pants until they’re compact enough to fit in your hands. “I wouldn’t mind a lift to the laundromat, though, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course,” he obliges you instantaneously, a hazy opening to another location transpiring before your eyes.

Walking through the portal feels as misty as he looks, cool and tingly, the shift in space somewhat jarring when you step into the facility. The place appears to be empty as you scan the premises, but a faint humming can be heard somewhere in the foreground. It sounds familiar. Is that…? Oh. The little tune K.K. Slider sings at the end of New Horizons. It’s around this time that a mop of magenta hair catches your eye. 

“Spinner?” Your voice drags his face in your direction. 

He hits his elbow on the corner of a washing machine, rubs it soothingly as he says, “H-hey, Yumemi, I.. I didn’t know you were gonna be here.”

“Me either,” you hold up your pants, “but getting the battle stench out of these things couldn’t wait.”

“Nomu guts got on you too, huh?”

“Yep.”

“You wanna throw ‘em in with mine? I-I haven’t started it yet, is all,” he averts his gaze, still rubbing anxiously at his arm. 

You approach him with a grin, “That’s really nice of you. Sure you don’t mind?”

He shakes his head fervently, “Not at all.”

He’s so cute when he gets nervous like this. Tomura has a similar kind of innocence when it comes to women, but Spinner almost seems to have a total lack of understanding of what to do when you’re around in general. And with the way that he clenches his jaw, eyes darting to everywhere but you, his chest heaving over the simple act of being in the same room with him, you think you’ve identified the issue: he doesn’t socialize with anyone. At all. Which means he is more than likely not going to make a move, no matter how much you throw at him, due to being overwhelmed and under-socialized.

Cute.

You lean against the washing machine, throwing your pants in with his clothes, caring not to look at the contents inside, and then slap the button to get it to start. Going over the best strategy in your head on the fly, you sit atop the machine as it begins to spin, your feet dangling, skirt climbing up your legs. It isn’t for long, but you catch him looking, a fleeting currant glance that lingers for just a beat at your open thighs. You have a nagging suspicion that perhaps he was hoping for a quick glimpse at your panties. Guess you’re overthinking how much you need to strategize a conversation with him.

“I think you’re really cute, you know,” your confession has him gasping, cheeks bright pink, and he slaps both hands over his mouth to stop any more sounds from escaping. 

“What?” The word is muffled behind his palm. “This.. that’s not cool. D-don’t say things like that, it’s not funny.”

“I’m not being mean, and I’m not trying to joke around. I think you’re cute. And you’re really nice, too. I like you. I think you’re attractive. And if you like me that way, too, you should come to my bedroom when the laundry’s done.”

His eyes are wide and owlish as he slides his hands down from his mouth—which is so ridiculously dry right now that he swears he could choke—his breaths shallow and audible in the room.

Spinner swallows thickly, “C-come.. come to your room? For what?”

You kick your feet, giggling before you bite your lower lip. Your eyes flit to the door of the establishment, most of the wall it resides within a large, somewhat taped-up window, with a few people occasionally walking by in clear enough view. Yeah, you would definitely get caught if you tried fooling around with him here. Though you have your doubts that anyone would care with this area being a villain hub. But still. It’s in your best interest not to garner that kind of attention.

You sigh, “I wanna practice some more,” and your sultry tone hits him below the belt.

As if he were a prey animal feigning his own demise, he stands wholly and completely still, not even a twitch to show he’s among the living. Taking pity on him, you grab him by the wrist, placing his hand at your thigh and making direct eye contact all the while. A few stuttered exhales are knocked from his throat, punchy and raw, his feckless gaze not missing how you creep his hand closer to the hem of your skirt. His Adam’s apple bobs when you release him from your grasp. The touch lingers, sweltering against his palm, and you grin at him surreptitiously as you hum in approval of his digits splaying across the plush of your thigh. Balmy tension grows thick between you, the air becoming stifling. 

He looks at his hand. Brushes his thumb in a circle over your smooth skin. Looks to you for a gauge in reaction. You aren’t laughing, or recoiling, or pushing him away. Had you been serious after all?

“I’m leaving it up to you,” you hop down, texting Kurogiri to get you back to the hideout, “so I’ll be in my room if you’re interested.”

You scrunch your fingers in a wave before you walk through the portal and into the kitchen.

Now is probably a good time to shower. 

————

It’s as you’re drying off in your room that you hear footsteps outside of your door, stopping just at the threshold. How lucky, you think, to have the opportunity of taking two virginities in a row. He knocks tentatively, so soft it’s nearly inaudible—but you’re quick to answer, giving him no chance to turn tail. 

“Ah! Fuck, s-sorry, I didn’t know!” He covers his eyes when you open the door, dressed only in a towel, still wet. 

You can tell he’s about to slam the door closed, or possibly climb up the wall to escape the situation, so you pull him in and lock the latch behind you. He looks like he’s seen a ghost, panting, cheeks on fire and mouth agape. He feels like he’s going to faint. Your towel is damp and clinging to your skin, barely covering your torso, the curve of your ass noticeable from beneath it.

“It’s okay,” you tell him gently, “I knew you might come by. You’re allowed to see me like this.”

Trembling hands are carded through his hair, “O-okay. That’s fine. Totally.”

“You ready to practice, or do you need a minute?”

His eyes meet yours, so big and bright that he can see his reflection in them. God, you’re so pretty. You’re so… well, hot, actually. Spinner would normally have a bit more of a romantic inner dialogue regarding you, but right now, with the only thing shielding your bare form being that tiny little towel, it’s difficult to think of anything other than what’s underneath. Practice is going to be difficult. 

“I’m ready,” his tone is strained, the shake within his words unforgiving. 

You drop the towel at your feet, his arousal pushing prominently to the front of his pants as he throbs at the sight of you. He isn’t sure what the etiquette is exactly when it comes to this, so while you lean in to kiss him, his eyes remain wide open, surveying whatever inch or outline of you they’re able to capture. Your tongue snakes into his mouth, and you can taste the mint of his toothpaste, feel him tensing as he tries to figure out what he should do first. His erection brushes up against your stomach when you keen into him further, eyes rolling skyward as his fingers drag along the wall behind him. You trail kisses across his jaw until you reach his neck, nipping at the tender flesh there, eliciting a sharp groan to pop from his throat.

“Remember last time we practiced?” You ask into the junction of his neck and clavicle.

“Uh-huh,” his voice is airy and light, the tilt of his brow digging into his eyes. As if he could forget the last time you practiced. He’s been fucking his fist to the thought practically every day.

“You’ve gotta touch me. I really like it when you touch me.”

He exhales a breathy curse as he reaches to grab two greedy handfuls of your hips, careful not to sink his claws too deeply into the tender flesh there, pawing at you as though you’ll soon disappear. You’re plush and warm up against him like this. The sensation sends tingles through his extremities, zipping like the electric sting of static.

“Talk to me,” you speak into his mouth between kisses. “I wanna hear if you like something.”

Shuuichi moans heatedly, nudging his hips forward when you slot yourself closer to him, “I-I like touching you. ‘Nd you touching me. Feels good. It all feels really good.”

Your hands travel the contours of his body, acclimating him to your touch, a sudden gasp knocked out of him as your grip curls around the tent in his pants. At first, he writhes atop the wall, bucking into your fingers as your tongue laps over the pulse at this throat. Heat pools at your center when the pull of your grasp yanks this desperate keen from his chest, your lips wandering the line of his jaw, this jab of satisfaction coursing through you when he shudders.

“You’re a virgin, aren’t you, Shuuichi?” Your question saunters to his ear, the words pluming steam from an engine into the atmosphere.

He nods his head with a quiet, “Yes.”

“Can I have it?”

He nods again, this time hastily, “Have it. Have me, p-please.”

With a grin, you increase the pressure over the pulsing bulge in your hand, sliding your palm up and down his shaft, relishing in the damp spot that’s growing at his tip. His head falls back to the wall with a thud, instinctually bucking into your touch as little whimpers catch in his throat. You switch to rubbing your thumb under a sensitive spot right beneath the head of his cock, and he slams his eyes closed, panting, a heady moan of pleasure pouring out of him.

“Stop. I need a minute, God.. ‘F you don’t stop, I’m gonna—“

“Practice is over, Shuuichi. That means you’ll need to last a while. You need to get off once before since it’s your first time,” you say to him, pointed and unwavering.

A flame’s flicker sparks at your core when you pull him from his pants, gripping him tight within your hand, smearing the precum that drips from his slit for lubrication. You aren’t sure exactly what you were expecting, but you’re pleasantly surprised. He’s got to be the biggest out of everyone, long and thick, heavy in your palm, with a trail of magenta hair leading from the base of him and up to his navel. He’s less monster fucking and more we wanted to try body paints. Not that you would care either way, if you were being honest with yourself. Seeing the look on his face is way better than anything else you could’ve asked for. 

“You were keeping such a pretty cock from me all this time?” You click your tongue. “That’s not fair. Mmf, you’re really big, aren’t you? Hope you like eating pussy, I'm gonna need you to warm me up before I can take you.”

The idea alone of eating you out has him close to unraveling, that familiar plunge into ecstasy fluttering at his core. He can’t believe you’ve got your hand around his bare length like this, watching his expressions twist as you stroke him, capturing your lower lip in your teeth and cooing praises with each sloppy rut into your fist. A particularly firm press of your thumb to his slit has him arching his back off of the wall.

He smears his face with his hand, words slurring, “Fuck, I’m.. Hah—oh that feels so good.”

He sucks in air through his clenched teeth, grunting, attempting in vain to bite back a strangled whine as his vision begins to sparkle, his cock pulsing in your hand and ropes of cum splattering into your palm. He looks so spent already. So fucked-out and messy, his hair falling into his face, the rapid rise and fall of his chest a true testament to how ruined he is. His cheeks blaze crimson when you lick his cum clean from your palm all the way to your wrist. This is so goddamn filthy. There’s no way he can ever go without it again.

You hither him with your index finger and sit at the edge of your mattress, legs spread, inner thighs slick with your arousal. Shuuichi thinks for a moment about what you said before. How you like to be touched. How he needs to give you more. So he kneels in front of you, hands kneading your breasts, all blush and narrowed eyes as he licks away a bead of water that trails down your abdomen from your still-wet hair, only stopping once he reaches your sternum. He can understand why you seemed so eager to have your hands on him before. Seeing your brows slant, lips parting to release the hitch from your breath, those yummy little whines slinking out when he rolls your nipples between his fingers is all fucking intoxicating. He mouths at one dusky peak, sucking until it hardens, a string of saliva connecting from his lolled tongue as he parts from you.

“I like the way you sound when I touch you,” his voice gravels an octave lower, pupils blown out until they’re near to overtaking his irises. 

“I want more,” you mewl. 

“Tell me and I’ll do it. Whatever you want.”

You spread your folds with your first two fingers, eyes twitched up and needy when you tell him, “Taste me.”

It’s almost embarrassing how quick he is to follow your order, diving between your legs as if it’s the only place for him to survive. Just looking at your dripping cunt has him hardening again already. 

He swallows down the knot in his throat, “Are.. are you wet because of me..?”

“I am so fucking wet because of you.”

A desperate sound racks from his chest, his stomach coiling, the way he wants you having all but grown teeth. He’s so nervous. Feels himself trembling, adrenaline skittering over his skin.

It takes every last bit of his strength to ask you, “Where do you want my mouth?”

“Here,” you rub the swollen bud at your center.

He’s gentle at first, sweeping his tongue across your clit, delicate laps teasing you in a way that’s unintentional. But when you grind yourself into his face, the vibrations of his groan tingling pleasantly, he increases the pressure, rolling the flat of his tongue more firmly in response. A pair of garnet eyes plead for your reassurance. 

You trace the pads of your fingers along his shoulders, “That feels good. Ahh—you’re doing such a good job, k-keep going.”

Shuuichi takes the encouragement in stride, delving his tongue into your sopping cunt, audibly loving every second of getting to devour you like this. Needful whines and growls blossom in his chest, never having been so satisfied as he is watching your expression shift when he returns the plush muscle to your puffy clit, your moans heightening, crying out for all of the stars you’re seeing. His dick twitches at the sound.

You tap him lightly on the forearm, “I’m warmed up. Nngh, Shuuichi, fuck me.”

But he isn’t too keen on relenting just yet. Sliding his arms behind your legs, he captures your thighs within his hands, pulls them apart for better access to your pussy. He narrows his eyes, locking a possessive gaze onto you as he laves viscously over that cute little clit of yours. If you should choose to end things after you cum, so be it. He doesn’t care if he gets to lose his virginity if it means you’ll cum all over his face.

A gush of fresh arousal slicks down to his chin, and he groans through an open mouth at the realization. He’s making you all messy like this. You’re wet for him. And you’re gonna cum for him as many times as he can get you there. He flicks his tongue up and down the soft bud, his eye contact unyielding as he spreads you apart, your clit visibly throbbing at his hungry strokes. You moan his name like you mean it, like this is as carnal and debauched for you as it is for him, gripping at your bedding until your knuckles blanch. White-hot bliss washes over you, fizzing and snapping at your core, overtaking your senses, tipping you over the edge as he gives a few whiny “uh-huh”s at the feeling of you cumming beneath his tongue. 

Your thighs clamp around his head, his fingers now sinking into the swell of your hips, pulling you as flush to him as he can manage. Let him suffocate this way. He’ll die a happy man.

“Shuuichi,” the husky tone has his eyes rolling back, “I’m serious. You need to fuck me. Right now.”

With some reluctance, he releases you, murmuring darkly, “I like tasting you.”

“God, it shows.. But let’s see how much you like being inside of me,” you grin, taking his length in your hand to line him up to your entrance.

His confidence is back to faltering some now, though not enough to keep himself from giving you a lusty once-over, his garnet eyes glittering as they trail your form. He inhales sharply when you tug him forward, your legs wrapping around his hips as the tip of his cock breaches you. His hands float nervously above your waist, unsure once more in such uncharted territory. You whisper sweetly for him not to be nervous, but he can feel the release he’s hurtling towards gaining on him much too soon. He throws his head back, swearing under his breath, the enthusiasm already so heavy-handed and he hasn’t even sheathed himself inside of you fully. His gaze snaps back to you, eyes like saucers. Shuuichi chews his bottom lip upon seeing himself about to slide inside of your cunt, sending you clenching around what little of him is within you.

“Ready?”

He nods, cheeks smattered pink. The second you move to sink his cock into the warmth of your drenched walls, whimpering at the stretch, he’s practically gawking at the sight of you swallowing up his length. You wriggle to accommodate the intrusive girth. Struggling to maintain his composure, he holds his breath as you ride him from atop the mattress to keep from screaming outright. He wants to bark. To howl. To let you pull him on however tight a leash you want. He’s yours. From this moment on, he belongs to you.

“Fuck,” the word is knocked out of him, laced with a moan, “how.. how are you so tight?”

His eyes fall closed, pinched beneath flexed brows, panting in ragged heaves and hips jerking unskillfully. You roll your hips, work him in and out of you as he adjusts to the rapturous squeeze of your pussy. He lets out a shaky sigh when you guide his hand to your apex, fluttering around him while he rubs you in sloppy circles with his thumb, the slacking of your jaw sending heat roiling under his skin. 

“You feel so good. Yes—ngh—like that, fuck me just like that,” you mewl, quivering as his cock slams against a sensitive spot up inside of you. The fabric below where you’re joined is sopping, the face you’re making so lewd it’s bordering on sinful, pleasure-soaked and jolting each time he impales you on his cock—though the way your voice shatters would’ve given you away in spite of it all.

“‘F you don’t want me to cum, don’t say things like that,” he chokes, the low rasp of his voice causing you to shiver. His hands grasp erratically at your thighs, practically squirming, your name falling mellow and broken from his lips. “A-ahh, ’n don’t look at me like that. You can’t.. God, just fucking look at you. What the hell? F-fuck, I can’t handle it.”

“How quickly can you recover if you cum?” Your hands lock behind his neck.

“Quick.”

“Then cum inside me and keep going.”

He’s about to ask if you’re sure, but you answer before the words can escape him, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist and increasing the speed at which you rut against him. It takes no time at all before his orgasm crashes into him hard, all-consuming, waves of pleasure throbbing up from his center, and he’s thrusting into your cunt down to the root as he jumps inside of you.

“Mmm, yeah, that’s it,” he whimpers at your praise. “God, I love feeling you cum in my pussy like this.”

He slips himself out of you halfway, cursing under his breath at how his release drips down his length, combining with the slick of you to create this milky ring of arousal at his base. You’re pulsing over what’s transpired, and it enthralls him. His thumbs spread you apart so he can admire the vulgarity of it all. 

He is absolutely beyond ruined.

You, on the other hand, are reminded of why you love fucking villains so much. He doesn’t even soften inside of you. His refractory is ignored entirely, his stamina shocking as he pistons himself back into you, a cry singeing your throat with the return of his thumb to that tight ache at your clit. The overstimulation is something he isn’t used to, a delicious burn that touches on nerves he wasn’t previously aware of. His heady whines catapult to the ceiling, the wet slapping of the mess he’s made in your cunt sure to never leave his mind again. Your eyes have grown hazy, half-lidded with lust. Locking onto them pulls another jagged moan from his mouth.

“I know I shouldn’t be makin’ sounds like this.. Y-you’re just so—nngh—so tight,” his voice is raw and breathy, low in his register from being held so long behind his teeth.

“No,” you gasp, “lemme hear you. I love all these sounds you’re making for me. So pretty. Such a good fucking boy.”

His breaths pick up, soft whines woven in between them as he rubs your hardened peak, the anticipation of your undoing stirring him up, your heels digging into his back to encourage him to thrust harder. He obliges without question, staggered curses slithering from his lips. He’s so flushed and blissed-out, his pupils dilated wide, those pitiful mewls that scoop from his throat up into his head curling your stomach in knots. You tighten around him purposefully to give an experimental squeeze. He sobs at the pressure. 

“Feels so good. Hah—shit, ’s like you’re sucking me in. Gonna—oh fuck—gonna fill you up. Y-you want it? Want it in your cunt?” He’s near babbling, his words stringing together, as gauzy as his eyes have become.

“I do. I want it,” your voice trembles along with the throbbing of your walls. 

“Bet you fuckin’ do,” a particularly rough thrust has you crying out for him, and he angles himself to bully the spot once more. “That feel good? Fuck,” the curse leaves him like a shaky prayer. “You look like it feels good. Looks like I’m gonna make you cum again.”

You nod fervently, “I'm there.”

“Yeah?” He presses harder into your clit, fingers so slick that his digit glides across the swollen nub, the tip of his cock nudging that ledge deep within you. “You cumming on my cock?”

He feels even bigger as you clamp around him like a vice, milking him, his breaths catching, all but weeping at the sensation.

“God, yes! I’m cumming. Oh, keep fucking my pussy, I’m cumming,” the last of your words slur and warble as you drag your nails down his back, your eyes not leaving his while you spasm around him.

He pauses for a few seconds just to enjoy the bliss, to watch you trembling underneath him, to fully appreciate this earth-shattering tremor of your center as a shiver runs through him.

"Feels.. uhnn—feels fucking amazing when you cum on me," he croons.

He grabs you by the hips, plunging deep inside of you, pounding you ruthlessly and wringing every last bit of your orgasm from your puffy cunt as his own high crashes violently upon him. You feel him pulsing, a second load of his hot cum spilling within your walls. He groans, eyes screwing shut, loitering in and out of balance from the sheer exertion of three consecutive rounds. Panting, his arms collapse, finally softening as he positions himself next to you on the mattress. 

“Is,” he huffs, collecting his breath, “is sex like that every time?”

You snicker, “If you do it right.”

You card your fingers gently through his hair, careful, as though he’s spun glass. You’re so beautiful. Radiant, even, with the way your cheeks darken, hair clinging to your face and shining like spider’s silk. You smile at him genuinely. Sweetly. Softly. Like he means something. Like he’s worth doing this with.

Fuck it. 

He thinks he might love you.

Me becoming immediate best friends with the people who Kudos and comment

I love when people Kudos my fic, because that means I get to stalk their AO3 profile and steal their bookmarks to read later >:]

The WIP when you read some of your own work for inspo

♡ Kissed By The Baddest Villain ♡

Link To Masterlist

WC: ~3,000

CW: dirty talk, unprotected sex, oral sex, praise kink, fem dom, teasing, heavy petting. Proof read but no beta.

This chapter is possibly the horniest thing I've ever written lmao. Enjoy 💜

Chapter 7: Good Boy

“Gah, son of a bitch!” You drop one of six bags of groceries you’re bringing in at once.

You hate when it’s your turn being the grocery shopper. It seems like you always get stuck with this shitty job, probably because you’re the least recognizable out of everyone—which you do understand. But still, everyone here eats like a horse, so you end up having an entire two carts full of goods to bring in. You’re already pent up and mad just thinking about how you have to put this all away.

Unfortunately, there’s a meeting for the Vanguard Action Squad going on, so while everyone would normally be scrambling to help you bring everything in, you’re dealing with it alone this time. 

“Piss, fuck, shit and hell,” you mutter under your breath as you drag the bag you’ve dropped into the bar with your foot.

Twenty minutes later and you’ve finally got all of the groceries put away. You nod proudly at your work, then turn to see Dabi leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets and blue eyes fixed on your form. 

You startle, “Jesus. How long have you been here?” 

“Long enough,” he rasps, whiffs of smoke on his breath. 

“And you didn’t offer to help me because...?"

Dabi grins like he knows the punchline of a joke he hasn’t even told, “Thought maybe you could use some punishment for going out like that after I told you not to once already,”

Your brows pinch in confusion before you realize he’s talking about the leggings you’re wearing. Regular, commonplace, black leggings that he apparently thinks he can reprimand you for leaving the house in, despite seeing several other women in the exact same pair at the store. 

Right. 

Because he thinks he’s the one in control right now.

That's alright, this can be a good lesson for him.

“Sit on the couch,” your voice has grown husky, low in your chest, sending a shiver of anticipation down his spine. 

He scoffs, “You think I'm just gonna—“

You narrow your eyes and dole out, “I said sit,”

Dabi isn’t sure what the hell has come over him, but he does as he’s told. He listens to your command, skulking silently to the couch, then taking a seat dead in the center as an act of rebellion so you won’t have a seat for yourself. You walk over to him calmly, like a stalking predator, a glint in your gaze that says you’re up to something. He gulps down the knot at his Adam’s apple, doing his best to stay still, concealing the shake in his hands as he peers up at you through his eyelashes. 

“Good boy,” you coo at him with a grin, and his breath hitches, eyes shot wide. 

“Don’t,” he clears his throat, “D-don’t fuckin call me that,”

“You don’t like it?” you tug at his earrings playfully.

He blushes bright pink at your question, pursing his lips, avoiding your eyes in the hopes that looking at the floor will quell the heavy stirring in his pants. He shouldn’t like this. Dabi is the one who should be in charge right now, not you. This is wrong.

So why is he this fucking hard right now?

“I didn’t say that,” his voice cracks, you taking control having made him feel bashful and small. 

“That’s good,” you sit on his lap, eliciting a grunt from him, “Because I think you’re the one that needs punished. But don’t worry,” you lick your lips, “I’ll reward good behavior,”

Your eyes flick towards him from over your shoulder, pupils blown out, the pheromones coming off of you close to knocking him back. 

Okay. Calm down. He’s been through way too much to let this get a rise out of him, and there’s no chance in hell he can give you the satisfaction of knowing that this is absolute torture. He tries to think about horrible things to keep himself from becoming too excited, but it’s too late; you have, quite literally, gotten a rise out of him. You press yourself further into his lap, sighing, planting your hands on either thigh. 

Fuck, okay, just concentrate. 

He shifts to rearrange the pressure in his pants, and a small noise gets caught up in your throat, something breathy, a wisp of a moan. Dabi pauses, aware now that his role is the prey you’ve been stalking in the night, before he gives another experimental nudge of his hips. You sound off with his movements once more, your cheeks pinched rose, lashes fluttering over top those starry eyes. They’re glassy and warm when you look at him, rocking into him with more purpose. 

“Fuuuck,” he smears his face with his hand, sweating, pulse in his fingertips, “If you don’t stop I’m gonna take you seriously,”

Two pairs of eyes meet when you tell him, “Then take me seriously,”

He doesn’t recognize the needy little whimper that rackets from him, rutting his cock against the searing heat of your sex beneath your clothes, matching your thrusts and grinds, eager hands grabbing at the inner plush of your thighs to spread them more. 

“There you go, good boy. Nnn, yeah. You like that?” You slip your clit up and down the length of him lightly as you murmur into his ear. 

He nods his head softly, apprehensive to show you just how much he’s enjoying the dominion you have over him. 

“Say it, then. Say you want my pussy,”

Dabi swallows thickly, maddened by the delicious writhing of your body, by the needful expression you wear in spite of the command in your voice. You haven't hardly touched him and he's already wrecked. And he has a feeling you won't relent until he fully admits that.

“Ahh—God, fuck, I-I want your pussy,” he stammers unsteadily from behind you. 

You trace a featherlight touch up his arm, then guide his hand to your aching cunt, his breaths becoming ragged heaves as you do. He groans when he sees your lids flutter at the way he rubs you in long, laving strokes through your pants, whining and bucking beneath you quite shamelessly now, the fingers of his other hand biting into your hip, unsure if he wants to push you off or hold you in place. You pull down your shirt and place both of his rough hands at your exposed breasts, and he groans, almost painfully, while he tweaks at your nipples. The sound sends a bolt of lightening straight through your center, and you abandon trying to pace yourself, grinding on his cock once more, the noises you’re making sinful and lewd.

“Stop, wait, I—fuck, hold on,” he gasps urgently, and you turn to smile at him with a wanton deviance, ceasing the brutal rocking of your pelvis. 

“What’s gonna happen if I keep going, hmm?” You trace a finger up the pulsing length of him through his pants. 

“Mmhh, gonna.. gonna…” his brows knit, shoulders tight and tense, and you can’t help but giggle at how spent he already looks. 

“Gonna what? What am I gonna make you do?”

He groans, hips twitching involuntarily, “You’re gonna make me cum,”

“Poor thing,” you reach back to card your fingers through his hair, “We can’t have that so soon. Or maybe even at all, since this is a punishment,”

You shift to face him, cupping his cheeks with your hands, then press your lips against his, tongue ring clicking the backs of your teeth, savoring the little grunts that flit from him in gentle puffs. He prods at your cunt sloppily, fingers petting you roughly, and you gasp at the pressure, rolling your hips in little circles to encourage the same movements of his digits. The coil within you tightens, winding deep and close to snapping, worsened by the way he’s panting. His eyes are cracked open just enough to watch your expression as he dips his hand past your waistband, the tip of his index finger working your clit, a pleased gasp escaping you when he moans into your mouth. 

Arousal has clouded his mind until he no longer cares what comes out of him, pleading with you, “Lemme eat your pussy,”

As soon as you nod, he’s got you slung over his shoulder, wordlessly carrying you into his bedroom. He closes the door behind him with his foot, then throws you onto his bed, calloused hands ripping off your leggings and then dragging up your thighs. He pulls you to the edge of the mattress, eye contact unbroken as he takes the elastic of your panties between his teeth, and you yelp when they snap back against you. With a deep inhale, he licks you through the material with one long stroke, palming at his cock as your breath hitches. 

“How do you like it?” He asks darkly, voice having taken an octave lower. 

Your body burns along with the cerulean of his irises, cunt clenching around nothing as you try to hold onto what’s left of your power grab, “Lick my clit and put your fingers inside of me,”

He pulls down the damp panties that cover you, clicking his tongue, breath shaking. 

“And I thought I was worked up,” he murmurs, “You’re fuckin soaked, doll,”

You buck into his face, and he grins wolfishly, the tables having turned now that you’ve shown your hand. He pulls you apart with his thumbs and ghosts his lips across your apex, gentle kisses tracing the little bud, and you writhe at the sensation of his panting against your sex. He chuckles mirthlessly as you let out a heady moan, slides two fingers into the velvet of your walls to feel you clamp around him. 

“You like feelin full?” He asks into your twitching cunt, and your desperate nod has him adding another digit as he growls, “There ya go, babe,”

“Oh, fuck, Dabi,” you mewl, arching your back, toes curling in your socks. 

He flicks his tongue across your clit, slow and methodical, a faint whisper of a touch that has you reeling for more. The ball of his tongue ring grazes you gently, sending your walls fluttering. You're not going to stand being the one getting teased like this. He makes a loud, strangled sound when you grab a fistful of his hair, pressing him by the back of his head into your pussy, muffling his cries as his eyes roll back. 

“Open,” you pat his cheek with your free hand, and he complies, hanging out his tongue so you can glide yourself across it. 

He works his fingers in and out of your sopping cunt, arousal dripping down to his wrist, and he curls his digits into the soft ledge within you until you cry out for him. His eyes are glazed and half-lidded, a groan rippling through his chest, cock pulsing within his pants as you graze your clit over the firm muscle of his tongue. 

“Take your cock out for me,” you yank his hair as you speak. 

“Uh-huh,” he obliges with his mouth full of your pussy, too fucked-out to disagree, his free hand releasing his dick from the confines of his zipper and relieving some of the growing pressure there. 

You yank his hand to your mouth, licking a big, wet stripe up his palm, “Play with it,”

He slams his eyes closed, brows tilted up as he pumps himself, heavy and hard in his hand. 

“Good fucking boy. Ahh—now suck,”

Dabi takes your clit in between his lips, capturing it fully, his tongue laving against the underside as he suckles your swollen bud. The moans pitch higher in your throat, sweeping through gasping exhales, nails scratching at his shoulder blades and causing him to grunt in approval.

“O-oh, just like that—just like that, Dabiii-aahhh!”

He runs his grip harshly over his shaft, thumbing his tip when his hand reaches the top, precum leaking to mix with your spit and lubricate him further. Your legs are shaking, hips stuttering as he coaxes you into an orgasm so intense that you’re seeing stars, and he hums against you when he feels the clamping of your cunt around his fingers, little moans and whimpers slipping pitifully from him as he watches you fall apart all over his face, feels you spasm around him.

You pull at his shoulders until he parts from you, panting, mouth glistening with your slick, his eyes glassy with lust. His length bobs in front of you, long and dripping, rosy and flushed at the tip, curved up slightly and so hard that it touches his stomach when it bounces.

You hum, a bit shocked at the size of him, “Pretty cock for a pretty boy,”

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his face burns pink, stating lowly, “I’m not pretty,”

“You are, though. You’ve got such pretty eyes, pretty lips, a cute little nose,” he looks awkwardly to the side, unsure of what to do with your praise, trying in vain to figure out a way to tell you just how beautiful he thinks you are. These thoughts are knocked loose when you purr, “Now c’mere,"

With shaking arms, you guide him until you’ve lined up his dick to where it rests teasingly between your folds, squeezing him at the base and dragging your still sensitive clit along his length. 

“Hah—lemme fuck you before I bust, holy shit,” He’s close to begging, the words sitting right on the tip of his tongue. 

“Well that doesn’t sound like much of a punishment,” you hiss through your teeth and circle his tip against your apex, the buildup of another orgasm tightening in your cunt, “‘Sides, this feels really good,”

“C’mon, Jesus, mmmnn.. You lemme lick your pussy. F-fuck, please,” his voice falters at the end, dangerously close to cumming his fucking brains out. 

“Did you like it?”

He nods his head, brows knitted, eyes falling closed, “You taste so good. Made all those noises for me. Wanna hear more’a that. Want you bad—want you so bad,”

Unable to withstand the temptation any longer, aching to be filled, you slip him into the damp plush of your center, unraveling as he stuffs himself in to the hilt, broken cries bleating into the air as he gasps at the feeling of being inside you.

“Goddamn, babe, you cummin again already? Fuck, yeah, you are,” he only gets a couple of thrusts in before the dam starts to break, babbling, drunk off of you, “That feels good. Oh, fuck, feels so good, tight little cunt milking my cock like this. You like that, doll? Yeah ya do, just look at you. Gonna cum in this wet pussy while you cream on my fuckin cock—I’m—I’m gonna—ahh, fuck!”

He yanks your legs apart, convulsing atop you, fingers gripping into the meat of your thighs as he whines, ruined, completely broken after experiencing the burning heat of your pleasure. You can feel him pulsing as he empties himself, throbbing, electricity racing up and down his spine. He's never felt anything so good as having you cum all over him.

“Good job,” you pat him on the cheek, “mmm, such a good boy, fucking me with that pretty cock,”

He kisses the side of your neck, chest heaving, bathing in the post-sex bliss of softening within you. 

“You’re so crazy,” he whispers. 

“For sleeping with you or thinking you’re pretty?”

He chuckles under his breath a bit, “Both,”

With a grunt, he pulls from your walls, watching as his cum leaks from your raw pussy, the spasms leftover from your orgasm causing rivets of white to gush onto your thighs. 

“So hot,” he whispers to himself. 

Dabi takes off the shirt he was wearing to dab you clean, careful not hurt you, gentle in a way you hadn’t expected of him. 

“You don’t think you’re pretty?” You ask as he crumples the shirt, throws it to the floor. 

He looks at you as if you’re stupid. 

“Are you stupid?”

Well, you guess you should’ve seen that question coming. 

“No, I just think you’re really cute,”

Dabi snarls, gestures to his entire body, points at the staples on either side of his face. 

“So?” He rolls his eyes at your remark, “No, really, I think you’re cute. Those things just give you character,”

You cuddle up to him, his body stiff as a board, pressing your head to hear the beating of his heart. He tries to shrug you off, but you remain steadfast. 

“This is what matters, even if you don’t think you’re a pretty boy like I do. You’ve got a good heart,”

“Gonna harvest my organs or something?”

Grinning, you tap him playfully on the arm, “No, jackass. I meant you’re a good guy. You’ve been nice to me since I got here. Even that thing you said about not liking the way I dress was because you didn’t want people looking at me,”

“Actually, doll, I didn’t want you figuring out how you drive me wild in those tight clothes,” the words escape his mouth before he can stop himself. 

“Well, either way. Don’t sell yourself short,” you tell him with a stretch. 

“We, uh.. we gonna do this again?” He fidgets with the button on his pants as he asks you this. 

You shrug, “If I feel like it,”

“What? C’mon, that felt good. I know it did, you came twice. I can make it feel even better if you’ll let me fuck you right next time,” he tries not to seem too eager to convince you.

“I dunno,” your voice lilts, “depends on how well you behave for me, I guess,”

“Behave for you?” Dabi repeats, watching you practically skip out of the room.

Behave.

So he has to play along with whatever game you've got in mind for him, then.

You’re going to make him absolutely crazy.

If he has had sex it's been a handful of times and he's never had a relationship 🤧

I actually headcanon Hawks being a virgin. I mean, with the hero commission breathing down his neck, his never-ending hero work, and working towards his goal of creating a society where heroes have to much time on their hands our birdman just doesn't have the time. But somehow, he was given the reputation of being a playboy and doesn't understand where it came from.

*Hawks talking with Tokoyami and Dark Shadow*

Hawks: I HAVE NO HOES TOKOYAMI! THESE BITCHES DON'T FUCK WITH ME, SO WHY DO I HAVE THIS REPUTATION!?

Dark Shadow: *can't breathe and is wheezing*

Tokoyami: *staring blankly at Hawks as he continues to scream*

Just chiming in to say that Adriana is slept on as a goth name. 1) Adrian was the name of the antichrist in the classic movie Rosemary's Baby, and this is a female derivative 2) One meaning of the name Adriana is "dark"/"the dark one"

Tomura and Dabi are both thriving and well in my fics, so if you'd like to dissociate, feel free to join me 🥲

To all my writers who have a tough time with smut terms and not knowing which ones to use, I have found the holy grail for us.

This reddit user took a poll of 3,500 people and went really in depth with asking their favorite terminology, along with actual pie charts on what the readers preferred to see in their smut.

Here's the direct link to the Google doc with all the info!

USERNAME LORE GIVE IT TO ME NOW YOU ALL