I Have Never Been Called Out So Hard In My Life

"For women, only one standard of female beauty is sanctioned: the girl. The great advantage men have is that our culture allows two standards of male beauty: the boy and the man. The beauty of a boy resembles the beauty of a girl. In both sexes it is a fragile kind of beauty and flourishes naturally only in the early part of the life-cycle. Happily, men are able to accept themselves under another standard of good looks — heavier, rougher, more thickly built. A man does not grieve when he loses the smooth, unlined, hairless skin of a boy. For he has only exchanged one form of attractiveness for another: the darker skin of a man’s face, roughened by daily shaving, showing the marks of emotion and the normal lines of age. There is no equivalent of this second standard for women. The single standard of beauty for women dictates that they must go on having clear skin. Every wrinkle, every line, every gray hair, is a defeat. No wonder that no boy minds becoming a man, while even the passage from girlhood to early womanhood is experienced by many women as their downfall, for all women are trained to want to continue looking like girls." — Excerpt from Susan Sontag's 1978 essay The Double Standard of Aging

I read the published chapters of your book of Levi and loved.

I'm so happy you enjoyed it!! I've got the next chapter in draft right now! 🥰

Me

The fics I read

♡ 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.

♡ Kissed By The Baddest Villain ♡

Link To Masterlist

WC: ~3,000

CW: dirty talk, fingering, teasing, fem dom, explicit sexual content. Proof read but no beta.

Chapter 6: I Want You To Want Me

The days that follow are filled with random acts of villainy. You're aware that you were technically paid upfront, but man, this is really cutting into your teasing time. 

Ah. 

Teasing time. 

The random minutes of the day, or hours if you're so lucky, where you really crack down on how much you can provoke the guys before they finally do something about it. You like to be as subtle as you possibly can. Go without a bra in a white t-shirt and see who speaks up. "Forget" your clothes and walk out from your shower with just a towel on. Then there's always the classic route of making direct eye contact while you eat anything that could even resemble a phallic shape. You never do it at the same time or on the same days. It has to be spread out so that nobody can quite pin down when it's going to happen. After all, one of the best parts is the unexpected nature of teasing time.

Today specifically seems like a good day to go ahead and cultivate your newfound skill. You've been in your room most of the day so far, mostly talking to your parents on the phone, assuring them that you're doing alright. Dad's being pretty uptight. The great Knight Terror, a man who can (and does) create nightmarish hallucinations and inflict them upon others, is worried that you're not getting enough sleep. There are just too many layers of irony to peel back. 

This helps you decide to venture out into the rest of the hideout for some much needed stress relief, in search of something--or someone--to take your mind off of everything else. But no such luck. You haven't been particularly active today, so the others have all secluded themselves for a lazy day of their own. You can hear music thrumming down the hall from Toga's room, broken up by chatter and the clicking of keyboards from Tomura's, he and Shuuichi complaining loudly about their hits not landing. 

Which is fine. 

Totally fine.

You're used to being coddled by your parents, so there's a stab of unhealthy regret cutting into your chest for not rounding everyone up when you had the chance. But it'll be fine. There are other ways to relieve stress that don't require tapdancing on the last remaining nerves of the League Of Villain cuties.

So you now find yourself troubleshooting your weakest ability: baking. Having never been particularly talented in this area, you decided to use this time to figure out what the hell you're doing wrong when your pastries turn out... the way that they do. Although you're very aware that these cookies will probably end up less chocolate chip and more heinous shit, you gather the ingredients, mix them in a large glass bowl, then sit on the minimal counter space while you wait for the oven to preheat. You kick your feet as they dangle, humming a song to yourself that you've had stuck in your head.

That's around the time when Twice walks in for a glass of water. Twice, who is the only one of them who hasn't been receptive really at all to any of your teasing. If you wear a white t-shirt with no bra, he only looks at your face. If you come out with just a towel on, he's immediately tearing his eyes away and ignoring the situation. If you make eye contact while practically deep throating a whole-ass banana two inches away from his face, he just smiles and grabs his own damn banana. You think you're going to have to be more direct with him or else he's just not going to take the bait, which kind of goes against the grain of what teasing is at its core. It's frustrating, but at the end of the day, you're willing to give up the subtlety in favor of how badly you want him. 

He's wearing a blue t-shirt and baggy gray sweatpants along with his mask tonight. You have yet to see his face, still, even after a couple months now of having been part of the league. It isn't lost on you that this is for good reason, but it does often give you pause. What does he look like under there? 

You know he has a great body, you've seen it clear as day through his skintight costume. Jin is absolutely built, the way his muscles tense when he strikes a pose giving you butterflies in your belly. He's also very sweet. He was the first of the guys to come talk to you on the day you had arrived, and not a minute has gone by that he hasn't shown you kindness. There are so many attractive qualities about him that it hardly matters what his face is like behind the mask, but curiosity is a hell of a drug.

"You're baking cookies at eleven am?" He asks you in a chesty gravel, "There's never a bad time for cookies,"

His voice. Ugh. There's something about it that sets every hair on your body to stand on end. 

"Yeah, I like to practice the things I'm bad at when people are less likely to be around for it," your admittance causes a blush to dust across your cheeks.

He can feel himself getting hot and flustered. You're so fucking cute like this.

Twice chuckles under his breath, "Well don't let me bother you, I'm just here for a glass of water. So outta the way!"

You look him up and down as he runs the tap, admiring his forearms, how they tense when he fists his glass. He allows for the slightest glimpse of the lower half of his face when he pulls his mask up for a drink, small rivets of water spilling at the corners of his mouth to wet his chin. From what you can tell, he's a little scruffy, stubble lining his angular jaw. This is short-lived, though, the mask soon to be returned over his face entirely.

"Hey, Jin?" 

"Mm?"

"I was just wondering.. am I allowed to see what your face looks like?" 

The inquiry takes him by surprise. You can tell that he's struggling somewhat to determine his best course of action. Truth be told, while he would normally be apprehensive to remove the mask so he doesn't spiral, this time, it's mostly because he doesn't want you to be disappointed with what you see. He isn't what he would consider to be conventionally attractive. Definitely not as good looking as you.  

He rubs at the back of his neck in a bashful display that's quite unlike the Twice you've come to know, eyes fixed at the linoleum, and you think for a moment that he's about to refuse your request. Not a word is spoken when he removes his mask, a head of straw-colored hair revealed beneath it. A scar runs lengthwise down the center of his forehead, one which you assume is from his incident, a line that diverges between two hooded, gray eyes.

You giggle nervously, a bad habit that appears to have him feeling self-conscious with the way he rubs at his upper arm, "Sorry, I just--" you catch your lower lip between your teeth, "You're really cute,"

His eyes widen for a brief moment before they settle back into a flattened affect. 

"Don't make fun of me, Yumemi," he tells you with pink cheeks. 

"I'm not. I really like your hair, I didn't think you'd be blonde. And you've got bedroom eyes," 

Bedroom eyes.

Were you coming on to him?

There's no goddamn way. 

Each corner of your mouth nudges into a playful grin, the glint in your gaze prickling his skin with goosebumps, and you lean forward to close the space that rests betwixt you both.

"W-why are you laughing then?" 

"Because I'm nervous over what I'm about to do,"

Anticipation blooms within him.

"What..." he swallows thickly, the realization settling into his bones that, yes, this is actually happening, "What are you about to do?"

With your body buzzing and full of adrenaline, you spread your legs, the skirt you're wearing folding in the open space that separates your knees, and he releases an audible gasp when you do so. 

"Ask you to touch me," you tell him in a voice that's barely above a whisper. 

He stumbles towards you, attempting not to gnash his teeth over this opportunity, fighting each and every urge to nip at the exposed flesh of your thighs. His callouses drag over the contours of your body, hands slow yet hungry, relishing in the way that you shiver at his touch which ghosts along your pretty waist. 

"Like that?" His brows tilt, knitting at the center, a shake in his voice that threatens to break him apart. 

You nod your head as he allows his fingertips to sink into the swell of your hips, and you spread yourself wider, tipping your pelvis, encouraging him to travel further down. He curses quietly to himself, and then rests a palm atop each of your knees, pulse thundering, hormones flitting through his veins. He needs a second to breathe. 

But only a second. 

Jin massages your thighs, greedy hands working up until he reaches the hem of your skirt. He stops to examine your reaction. You're so beautiful that it hurts to look at you. Has his legs about to give out underneath him.

"K-keep going," you beg in a voice that's half a moan. 

You sound so needy for him. 

And the way you're looking at him right now all but confirms that thought. Your eyes are burning with a desire that rivals his own, the lust which you offer him delicious and saccharine, pouring from your lips like honey.

"That's all you wanted?" He taunts, but it's breathless and weak. 

You grab his shoulders to pull him into a kiss, jerking him closer to you, and he grunts against your lips as the tent in his pants is pressed to your leg. 

"Touch me more," your purr is muffled into his mouth. 

He pinches his eyes shut tight, seconds from tearing the clothes from your body and bending you over this counter so he can fuck you properly. However, he's a man who values respect above all else, and you'd asked him to touch you--only to touch you. A searing hand travels to the aching at your center, softly rubbing along your damp panties in languid strokes, laving across your clothed cunt. Your breath hitches at the contact, writhing as though you're trying to tie yourself into a knot. He steadies you with his other hand firm against the small of your back. 

When you part for air, your lips are kiss-stung, eyes heavily lidded, chest heaving. He presses a messy, open-mouthed kiss to your neck as he pulls your panties to the side, circling your clit with his index finger before delving it into your pussy all the way down to the knuckle. Your whine comes out as little more than a breathy squeak when he kneads inside of you, prodding to find the spot that will make you cry. 

"You're so wet," he breathes hazily, as if in disbelief.

You nod your head, "Been wanting you to touch me like this for a while,"

Fuck, that's hot.

"Shoulda said something sooner, princess. I would've satisfied you a long time ago," the confidence in his tone is a hard difference from how blissed-out he sounded not thirty seconds prior. You wonder if sex is something both parts of him can agree on.

The boastful tone soon gives way to whines and whimpers that are near pitiful. He can't remember the last time he did this, and a large part of him hopes he isn't too rusty. But there's another portion that's too caught up in the moment to care about finesse. Your hand tangles into his hair, tugging at it roughly, a not-so-gentle indicator of how good he's making you feel, just the reminder that he needed to focus on your pleasure instead of the chaos in his head. He presses his thumb to your apex, rubbing circles into the little bud that causes you to throb around his finger. 

"There?" His question vibrates against the column of your throat, "You like it right there?"

"Right there. Fuck, feels so good," you mewl, high and soft, words enmeshing with the tepid air. 

With a shaky groan, he raptly watches the wiggle of your hips as he curls his finger, then dips another inside of you, eager to see you unravel, the lewd sounds you're making over his ministrations pushing him to madness. You can feel him pulsing through his pants, even moreso when he looks down to see his digits returning slicker than before, your arousal clinging to him and making a mess on the countertop. 

"Want you to cum for me," he grits, the words skittering out of him like electricity.

The way that you're tightening around him says that you're not too far from this. Fuck, he's so hard. He doesn't think he's ever been this turned on in his entire life. You're so hot like this, your skin all flushed and dewy, eyes pleading with him to give you the ecstacy you so crave. As embarrassing as it is to admit to himself, he's getting close with the way he's grinding against your outer thigh. The friction is just enough to keep him right on that precipice, and the moans he's pulling from you have his cock throbbing mercilessly.

A desperate groan wracks out of him as you dip below his waistband to take the length of him into your hand, shameless and highly strung, eyes widening when you swipe your thumb across his slit. You collect the bead of precum that was dripping from him, then lick it from the pad of your thumb, melting over how his voice breaks as he watches. You wet your palm with your tongue and return it to his twitching cock.

"Fuck fuck fuck," he whimpers, pressing more firmly into your clit, "If you don't stop, I'm gonna cum,"

You lift your shirt to reveal the expanse of your stomach, "Good. Cum on me,"

"Oh my god, keep going. Keep--uhnn--stop! No, don't stop, don't fucking stop, don't listen to that," the words come out between his panting.

He grips the counter with his free hand, knuckles blanching, holding on for dear life as he bucks into the silk of your palm. You glide your hand up and down his shaft, the way his face twists up when you run your fingers across a sensitive spot winding the coil within you so impossibly tight that it's about to snap entirely. You've become so wet that his thumb slips over your clit, slick arousal gushing, the velvet of your walls squeezing him with every word he babbles into your ear.

You want dirty talk?

He'll fucking give it to you.

"Next time I'm licking your pussy. Bet your clit tastes like candy. Goddamn, you're driving me so crazy, I swear," Jin lifts your shirt so he can play with your nipples, tweaking them as he continues, "Been wanting to make this pussy cum since I first laid eyes on you. Shit, you're getting so tight--ah--you are so fucking close. Mmff. That feels good, doesn't it?" he rasps, and that's all it takes to send you pulsing around him, fist tightening in his hair, "Yeah. That's it, cum all over my fingers, princess,"

Your moan breaks off into a cry, sharp and keening, pleasure bursting through you in a burning and intense unfurling that shocks through your limbs. 

"Fuck, Jin! Ahh-aahh, you make me feel so good!" you cry out as he fucks you through your orgasm.

"Oh fuck, that's it, I-I can't. Gonna cum. I'm--ah--gonna cum, gonna cum, gon--ngh, c-cumming," a heady moan juts from his throat as he tumbles headlong into pleasure, his cock pulsing in your hand as you guide him to spill his hot release onto your abdomen. 

He wriggles at the sight, bucking his hips, thrusting to glide through your fingers that work him so sweetly, painting your skin pearly white. Tired and damp with sweat, he drops over you, trembling and muttering little nothings into the warmth of your neck. 

"Would you ever want to have sex with me?"

Jin snaps his head up in attention, nearly manic when he nods his head and cages you in with his strong arms. 

Hook, meet line. 

"Yes--yes, just, gimme like two minutes and I can--"

You slide off of the counter, patting the side of his face on your way down. 

"Then we totally will sometime," you clean him off of your stomach with a napkin as you speak, "But these cookies won't make themselves,"

He blinks several times in succession, then splashes his face with cold water before pulling his mask back on. 

And there it is. 

Sinker. 

He helps you portion dough out onto a baking sheet, watches you dance around the kitchen in your socks as you sing into a spoon, imagines what it feels like to breathe in the salt of your skin as he takes you, as he cradles your face in his hands. 

Yeah.

He should be easier to tease from now on.

There needs to be more fanfiction of Spinner, so I'm writing one!! It is NSFW and 18+!

I got strength 💪

Pull a major arcana from this picker wheel!

a bit suggestive! thinking about bf!kirishima who loves to mark you but is so shy and embarrassed seeing the after-effects.

boyfriend!kirishima is the type of man to be completely, hopelessly pussywhipped by you. So much so that the moment things get even remotely physical—whether it’s a slow, lazy makeout on the couch or something rougher and hungrier—he loses all coherent thought. His brain just shuts off, replaced by a single, overwhelming instinct: you.

He’s so consumed by you, so high off your taste and touch, that he leaves a trail of bite marks along your skin—his sharp teeth grazing just enough to make you squirm, just enough to draw out those soft little yelps he lives for. He trails his mouth down your collarbone, pressing wet, messy kisses into your skin, each one louder and sloppier than the last. Between every kiss, he murmurs praise like a prayer, over and over again, his voice muffled against your flesh:

“Perfect girl… mine… my wife… mine, mine, mine.”

You’re not his wife. Not yet. But in Kirishima’s eyes, you already are. And he wants you to know it. He fully intends to put a heavy, glimmering diamond on your finger—one that catches the light just like your eyes do. Until then, he marks you the only way he knows how: with his mouth, his hands, his love.

Your skin—so soft and warm and his—ends up coated in blooming bruises and faint indents from his teeth. Each one a love letter scrawled in violet and rose. And later, when the haze lifts and he catches sight of your body in the soft light of morning, painted in proof of his hunger, he goes all shy and flustered.

“Oh… shit, babe,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck as his eyes trail over the marks. “I got carried away again, huh?”

He’ll tug one of his oversized shirts over your head, fumbling with the fabric like maybe if he covers them up, it’ll make his embarrassment disappear. But you just grin, shrugging it off, wearing each mark like it’s something sacred. Because to you, it is.

And he melts—his face going red as he buries it in the crook of your neck, arms wrapping around you tight as if he could somehow shield you from the sight of the love he’s already left behind. He might get embarrassed every time, but he’ll never stop. He’ll keep coating you in his adoration, over and over, because loving you is instinct. Loving you is need.

masterlist link here.

taglist: @luvseraphh @xoxojisu @candiiee @cvnt4him @soundtrqck @lotusstarr @cupkiki @wokasiv @badslittlemuffin @moonstonejpg @chlosology @princessshnazzy @203steph @chitteringcicadaeyes @idk1187 @notartemis777 @chosostonguepiercing @chocolatedefendorbaa @t33th--r0t @3lenaatvt @the-faceless-bride @tuneinwlosers @gethexxed @dreamcastgirl99

Real. There are days where I can't even do the necessary things that I need to because my body just will not work. Being chronically ill/disabled is a full time job on its own. Nearly every aspect of my life has to work around it.

do able-bodied people not understand that if disabled people call out of work every time they don't feel good that we would call out of work every fucking day?

like honestly. what do you think being disabled means?

when you reblog a post because you think a specific mutual would enjoy it and then they reblog it from you