but has a vagina
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Late night offender by sadjellyperson
Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
25 Jan 2022
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Summary
Dabi invites himself over late at night while you're trying to do homework.
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Summary
You didn't remind him that days off were meant to be nice, and that most people looked forward to them. Instead, you just looked at his ass. Big and shapely with silicone padding to keep his metal hip joints or pelvic girdle ripping into anything when he sat down. Good to grab onto, to dig your fingers in. It looked amazing in his shiny black work pants. It looked good in his pajamas too, red with yellow stars on them, and you watched him reach for one of the big Tenna-sized cereal bowls he kept on the top shelf. His shirt rode up and you got a peek at one of the ports that ran along the hard plastic cabinet of his back: the 6.35mm AUX input on his lower spine. The old fashioned jack was so large it was almost slutty, and you knew the more sensitive VGA was just above it.
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Summary
His glasses were in color again, street lights shining through to paint his smooth white cheeks pink and yellow. You wanted to believe him so fucking bad. You wanted to think he could make it out of this; wanted to believe he wouldn't go running back to his successful ex the second he showed back up. You wanted to throw him down on the road and kiss him until his dirty chittering teeth opened up and you could taste the tar off his tongue. But you knew him better than that.
Series
- Part 1 of FrostEgg's Spamton Series
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Summary
"This was not perfect. Spamton was not a great man, he was not sensible or responsible. He was flighty and most of what he did for money was completely illegal. Sometimes he had really bad days. Sometimes he did not make any sense. But he tried. He made you happy. He made you laugh. He wanted to make it work. You pulled him closer, rested your head on his, and wrapped your arms a little tighter."
You and Spamton have a happy enough little life. You get by, you make it work. But he's still not over his last relationship, and he might have just lost his only chance to move past it.
Series
- Part 2 of FrostEgg's Spamton Series
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Summary
He woke up that morning and could feel it. The difference, the change. Your shared room was hazy, drawn through smog, pumped over the glass of his mind. He hoped it was a virus, and he'd sleep it off, but he could smell you next to him, sharp. Even when he closed his eyes the shape of you in the room was distinct. You were a heat imprint next to him, you burned yourself into his withered capacity for trust. He said you were his, he said it all the time, knew it all the time, that he'd charmed you and you'd fallen victim to him, the doll-man from the trash. The ugly, walking corpse of the most successful Addison who ever lived: Spamton G. Spamton. That morning he realized he was stuck with you in every iota. His neural pathways were adjusted, wired you in, accommodated you. His heat started for the first time in a decade.