#incubus shigaraki

[oxygen537art]

Incubus Shigaraki

[2-dsimp]

You horny bastard (me, I'm the horny bastard)

NSFW MDNI! Speaking of horny bastards

Imagine having a pathetic man who’s never felt the touch of anything other than his own hand. Practically foaming at the mouth and simpering underneath your touch. You hadn’t done much to him but he’s already too far gone only responding to “good boy” And suddenly right after the golden words left your lips. Your face and hand are sullied with ropes of his thick ejaculate. His pitiful swollen shaft is still twitching at attention, since he is a needy thing. That requires your utmost care and attention.

A/n: Had a thought after rewatching some of my anime favs and having brainrot about my main 2 bois who’d fit this bill.

[satancopilotsmytardis]

What about the cliche Wing!fic trope? Tomura with brittle feathers that can't lift him up, not that he cares, and Dabi putting everyone on edge because he either has no wings from burning or they're almost skeletal? Dabi who snaps and snipes at Tomura when he realizes he could fly if he took care of himself and is so angry because when he was Touya he loved to fly and he'll never get that back.

I'm going to have to pass on this one. Adding wings into the mix is going to bring too much bird stuff into my writing, and we all know how I feel about The Bird now

It's an interesting concept, but not for me!

[scary-grace]

sips drink. I am going to need. [ ring ] for shigraki

Thank you for the prompt! As usual, I went a little berserk with it, and there is. so much smut in this. If you're not a fan/this is not the vibe, let me know and I'll write you a different one, or do a better job with your other prompts! 9k, AU with demons, succubus!reader, tons of smut. If you're a big fan of super dominant Tomura, this is not the fic for that. MDNI + thanks to @dogblessyoutascha for beta-reading on short notice and putting up with tons of yapping and fic about this guy.

wanted (if you want me)

a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

You're a down-on-your-luck succubus who just got rejected by the guy who summoned you, and you can't go back to Hell until you find somebody else's soul to steal. Shigaraki Tomura, reeling from a Valentine's Day rejection of his own, is the perfect victim. Or so you think. (cross-posted to Ao3)

“Sorry,” the guy who just summoned you says, sitting back from the pentagram he’s drawn on the floor with a frown. “You’re not my type.”

“I’m – what?” You feel stupid, which isn’t how you’re supposed to feel. You’re a demon, and a mortal’s just summoned you. You should feel powerful and lawless, not embarrassed. Not rejected. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re not my type,” the guy says again. He gestures awkwardly at you. “I was hoping for somebody – more.”

“Did you want a guy or something?” you ask. You cross your arms over your chest. Your clothes are barely worthy of the title, and you don’t want this guy seeing your nipples if he’s not even into them. “If you wanted a guy, you should have summoned an incubus. It’s not my fault you can’t read.”

“I like girls,” the guy snaps at you, rather than addressing the fact that you just called him a moron. “You were supposed to look like this.”

He picks up the grimoire he was reading the incantation out of and holds it up to you. It must be a new edition of the same old grimoire, because the last version of it you saw didn’t include illustrations. The illustration in question is a demon, identifiable as such by her horns and tail, but she looks about as much like you as you do like an angel straight from Heaven’s hideous art-deco gates. She’s got the kind of proportions that don’t work on Earth or in Hell – tiny waist, enormous breasts, ass that needs its own zip code, and her outfit is so tiny that you can see her nipples and her clit through it. And then there’s the face she’s making, straight out of some seedy erotic magazine, with blown-out pupils and open mouth and a delicate flush across her cheeks, all ready to be ruined.

Your outfit is skimpy, sure, but not that skimpy. You have the parts you need, but they aren’t that exaggerated, and if you tried that stupid expression, you’re pretty sure your face would melt off. If this is what this mortal expected, of course he’s disappointed to have gotten you.

His disappointment isn’t your problem, and now you’re in a mood. “Let me get this straight. You summoned a succubus – a sex demon from the depths of Hell – to fulfill your fantasies, and you’ve decided that now’s the time to get picky.”

“I’m not being picky,” he says. “Girls like you don’t do it for me. Can’t you send somebody else?”

“Sorry. All my sisters are seducing hotter mortals than you.” You feel a surge of pleasure at the way the man flinches. Guys like these – when they summon a succubus, they’re always thinking about the sex part, not the part where you’re a demon. “They took one look at you and decided I was all you deserved, and you know what? I don’t think you deserve me, either.”

“Well, I don’t want you, so –”

“In fact,” you continue, rising to your feet and internally cursing the fact that you decided to materialize in fuck-me heels, “I don’t think you deserve to get laid ever again.”

The mortal blanches. “What?” he demands, taking a step back as you step forward out of the pentagram. “You can’t leave the circle unless I say.”

“You really should look into those reading lessons. You’ll have a lot of time on your hands.” You were just going to lay the curse, but you decide that’s not enough. You nail him in the balls with a sharp kick, and as he doubles over, you speak, your voice crackling with the fires of Hell. “May your erections always wither, no matter how much porn you watch or how many drugs you take. May you disappoint every lover you take to your bed, and may that bed lie as cold and empty as the grave where they’ll bury your impotent corpse.”

It's a pretty good curse, if you say so yourself. “You bitch,” the mortal spits, but you snap your fingers and seal his fate. You know the moment the curse settles over him. You see the despair in his eyes. “Take it back!”

“No,” you say. You grasp his chin in one hand and lean in close, so close that your breath huffs out against his lips. You scraped your tongue for this guy. He deserves all this and more. “I’ll see you in Hell.”

His eyes roll up in his head and he collapses to the floor. You step over his unconscious form and survey the apartment you’ve found yourself in, dingy and filthy and smelling unpleasantly of human body odor. This is the kind of mortal who thought it was wise to reject you, just because you didn’t exactly resemble the absurd sketch in his grimoire. This is the kind of mortal who thought you weren’t good enough for him. Your lower lip begins to tremble, no matter how hard you sink your sharp teeth into it, and sulfuric tears begin to leak from your eyes. You were so excited to be summoned, so hopeful that you could do a good job for once. Now you just want to go home.

But you can’t. When you try to dematerialize and let Hell call you back, you can’t, and you realize why not in the same second as you realize that you didn’t curse that human nearly hard enough. You were summoned to this world to serve a purpose – to fuck some mortal so hard that they’ll sell you their soul – and until you serve that purpose, you’re trapped here. You need to find a mortal to sleep with, immediately. And you can’t go out looking like this.

You ransack the mortal’s apartment. None of his street clothes are anything you’d be caught exorcised wearing, but he has a long coat that he probably thinks makes him look mysterious and cool. You shrug it on, noting that it covers your skimpy outfit while still providing easy access to your body when it’s time to take it off, and keep searching, in case there’s anything else you can use. Money, as it happens – this human has a bank account and credit cards, and even unconscious, it’s all too easy to read his mind for the PIN. You pocket all of it, hide your demon form with a glamour, then leave the apartment door wide open on your way out.

As soon as you hit the street, though, you realize that you have an even bigger problem than you thought. You assumed it was some featureless winter evening, the kind where a bored, lonely mortal has nothing better to do than flip through a grimoire and get himself into trouble, but every storefront you look at is decorated with hearts. Every mortal you pass on the street is on someone else’s arm, or carrying flowers, or making out in the glow of a streetlight. It’s Valentine’s Day. You’re fucked.

Contrary to what humans like the idiot who summoned you think, Valentine’s Day isn’t actually about sex. Sex is a side effect of what Valentine’s Day is really about, which is romance. It’s about love and soulmates and tenderness and affection and forever, which is exactly nothing you know anything about. Succubi and incubi exist on the dark side of all of that, in its nasty, sleazy, prurient shadow. You don’t court, you seduce. You don’t make love, you fuck. You don’t show people the face of God, or whatever that dumb-ass musical says; you show them the gates of Hell and walk them through. Seducing a random mortal is a tall order for you on a given day. Seducing one on Valentine’s Day is going to be damn near impossible.

You feel tears welling up again and blink them back. Crying over rejection from a filthy, useless mortal was bad enough. Demons shouldn’t feel that kind of pain, and if they do, they shouldn’t wallow in it. Demons get the job done. And it’s not totally hopeless, when you force yourself to be honest about it. For all the mortals who are happily coupled, there are plenty who aren’t, and if the mortal who summoned you is anything to judge by, some of them aren’t averse to a little salacious, damnation-worthy fun.

As far as places to find single humans go, you’re spoiled for choice; while all the restaurants have Valentine’s Day specials for mortals out on a date with their special someone, it seems as though every club or bar is advertising an event for singles. You peer into a few bars, but none of them strike you as having the right mood. Most of them carry a pathetic air of hopefulness, as if the humans within believe they really might find someone to love tonight of all nights. You don’t need hopefulness. You need desperation. You need a human so lonely and desperate that they won’t question why a stranger wants to fuck them. If you were attractive in your human guise, you’d have a better shot, but apparently you aren’t. Only a human who’s truly desperate would go for you.

Finally you come across a bar where the mood seems a little more appropriate. Some sort of singles event is winding down as you come in, and you sense the despair beginning to set in. Most of the humans here could easily pair up with one of the others if they were willing to alter their standards, but humans have gotten entitled these days, and they all think they deserve a partner who matches their ideals. They cling to that fiction even as the mood in the bar worsens. They don’t need to settle. They’re holding out for true love.

Pathetic. You square your shoulders and wade into the mix.

The gender of your target doesn’t matter to you. It doesn’t even matter if they’re willing to sell their soul tonight – once you’ve fucked them, you can come back as many times as it takes for them to give it over. But even with your criteria broadened, you’re having trouble. As you search through the humans, tasting the flavor of their emotions every time you brush against one, you don’t find a single one who feels the way you need them to.

You taste sadness. Loneliness. Despair. Resignation or acceptance – sometimes they’re hard to tell apart. A few strange humans have even found refuge in faith, some idiosyncratic hope that they’ll find what they’re meant to find when the time is right, as if God has time to ordain such stupid things. On another night, you’d take pleasure in crushing their hopes, but your own hopes of getting out of here are sinking by the second. You need a human. Any human will do.

But just as you’re resigning yourself to seduce a woman, one whose loneliness carries just the faintest tinge of despair, you’re hit with a wave of exactly what you’ve been looking for. Not just despair, but disappointment. Not just loneliness, but hurt. Not just resignation, but frustration and embarrassment, at feeling hurt and disappointed and finding themselves here at all. You turn away from the woman without ever drawing her attention to you and follow the thread of rejection through the bar to a booth in the corner, where a mortal sits alone.

Along with the relief of finding a target at last, the first feeling that crosses your mind is surprise.  This isn’t the sort of mortal you’d expect to find alone on Valentine’s Day, just based on his looks alone – almost-delicate facial features, long white hair, a frame that’s broad-shouldered yet lithe, observable even when he’s seated. As you get closer, you see a birthmark below the corner of his mouth, scars over his mouth and eye, and long lashes framing his crimson eyes. This mortal is pretty. Some of your sisters don’t care what their targets look like, but you like your mortal men pretty.

The mortal looks up as you come to the edge of his table. He seems as surprised to see you as you are to see him. “You’re late to the party.”

“Apparently not, since you’re here. Do you mind if I sit down? My feet are hurting in these shoes.”

He looks down at your shoes, and just like you were hoping, his eyes trace upwards, over your bare ankle to your calf to your knee before it disappears beneath your stolen coat. “Go ahead,” he says. “There’s room.”

There’s plenty of room, but you sit down next to him anyway, your leg pressed against his. You feel him startle, feel him go tense, and decide it’s worth drawing attention to. “Did I scare you?”

“No,” he says, but you can hear his heart beginning to race. “Just wondering if this is a setup or something. People like you don’t usually want anything to do with people like me.”

“People like me?” you say. You turn towards him, elbow propped on the table, chin propped in your hand. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb,” your mortal says. “Looks like yours, there’s no way you’re single.”

You can’t imagine this mortal’s self-deprecating angle working on anyone, but the compliment makes you glow ever so slightly. “Strange. I was thinking the same about you.”

Your mortal doesn’t glow. He blushes. “Don’t lie.”

“Would I lie?” Yes, frequently and gleefully – but not right now. “You’re gorgeous.”

He scoffs, averts his eyes, but his heart’s beating faster. It’s cute, and since he’s opened this door, you might as well walk through. Time for a little touching. You start with the scar above his eye. “I like this, and this –” you trace the scar, then tuck a few strands of white hair behind his ear, letting your fingers graze across his cheek and down to his jaw before reaching the scar over his mouth. “And this –”

He speaks while your fingers are still against his lips. “Careful.”

“I’m being really careful,” you promise. You run your fingers over his mouth again, slow and teasing, then turn your attention to the birthmark. “And I like this. It really completes the picture. Whoever rejected you tonight, they were out of their mind.”

“I could say the same about whoever rejected you.” Your mortal’s hand brushes against your knee, then drifts away, and you shiver ever so slightly. You like this mortal. It’s always easier when you like them. “I saw you watching the rest of them. Why did you pick me?”

“Like I said, you’re gorgeous,” you say, and shrug. The shrug presses you a little closer against him, and you don’t pull back. “And you looked like you were having the same kind of night as I am. I thought we could make each other feel better.”

He gives you a skeptical look, but the flush in his cheeks gives him away. Oh, you like this one. Even if he gives you his soul tonight, you’ll come back to visit him at least a few more times. “How do you think we can do that?”

“By giving each other what we want,” you say. “Don’t you get tired of having to play a part, to be what someone else expects you to be, and never have your desires fulfilled? I could give you that.”

He scoffs. “You think you know what my desires are?”

“You’d tell me,” you murmur. “That’s the point.”

Your mortal’s skepticism doesn’t fade, but neither does his blush. “What about what you want? I don’t buy for a second that it’s just to sleep with me.”

The question gives you pause. It’s not one you’ve thought of before. Succubi don’t have sexual desires, really – your goal is always to seduce your target, which means it’s all about what your target wants. You aren’t very good at your job, but you’ve put up with all sorts of things, doing them or having them done to you, if it means the mortal you’re fucking will hand over their soul. What you want, personally, doesn’t factor in even slightly. What do you want from this mortal? You don’t know.

“You don’t know,” your mortal says, as though you’ve spoken aloud. His hand brushes against your leg again, settles there. “I’ll help you find out.”

“Only if you tell me what you want,” you insist, as he brushes your coat aside and finds your leg bare. His fingertips are dry and rough as they trail over your skin, brushing the inside of your thigh. “Oh –”

“Too much?” he asks. There’s an almost wicked glint in his eye.

You feel your own heart pick up the pace. This will be a challenge. You like a challenge. “Answer my question first. Every time you answer, you can move your hand.”

“I want you.”

“Wrong answer.” You close your legs, not that they were that far apart in the first place. You’re not easy. “I asked about your unfulfilled desires, and you just met me today. I can’t be the only thing you want.”

“Mm.” Your mortal makes a dissatisfied noise. Even as he leaves his hand in place, you see an awkwardness settle over him – nerves, or something like it. For such a gorgeous mortal, he’s an interesting contradiction. “I want – to be out of control.”

“Out of control?” You won’t open your legs just yet. “Tell me more.”

“You were right about me. I’m always doing what others want. I always have to be in control. I want to be outside my own control,” your mortal says. He can’t meet your eyes, and the flush in his cheeks looks almost uncomfortable. When you lean in to kiss it, his skin is hot beneath your lips. “I want someone else to –”

“Praise you? Worship you? Pleasure you until you can barely think?” You know you’ve got him by the sharp intake of breath, by the way he startles. “That would be my pleasure, too.”

You part your legs enough to free his hand, and his fingers, shaking slightly, work their way up the inside of your thigh. “What else?” you ask. “Be specific.”

“I want whatever you can give me.” He turns his head, looking away, which is an error on his part; it leaves his neck exposed, and you lean in to kiss it, feeling his pulse jump and race. “If I tell you it’s too much, I want you to give me more.”

“That was a good answer.” You part your legs a little further, and he takes it as the invitation it is. “Anything else?”

“I want to do the same to you,” your mortal says, and your face flushes. “It’s only fair. If you get to ruin me, I get to ruin you.”

Ruining him calls to mind all sorts of things, acts you’ve performed for other mortals by rote, acts you want nothing more than to perform for him, and the thought overwhelms you enough that you miss what he’s doing with his hand between your legs until he’s touching you, tracing your clit through the thin fabric. You realize with some degree of horror that you’re wet, and worse, that even his delicate touch has you spreading your legs wider. While you weren’t paying attention, your mortal made a bid for the upper hand, and he almost got it.

Not quite, though. You renew your efforts on his neck, feeling him shudder. You’ll do as he asks, as he desires – but not until he begs you, out loud, to give him what he needs. He shifts, squirms, in response to your attentions to his neck, much as you’re doing with his hand between your legs. “Mutual ruination,” you muse. “That sounds like a plan to me.”

Your hand’s been trapped at your side. You work it free and slip it behind his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. Then you turn him back to face you, drinking in the sight of him for a moment before you lean in to kiss him. The only way your mortal’s never had his desires fulfilled is if he’s never voiced them. You can’t imagine anyone looking at him, seeing him like this, and denying him what he wants.

Most mortals you’ve seduced lose patience with kissing quickly. The kind of mortals who summon a succubus only have one thing on their mind, but your mortal doesn’t know what you are. He kisses you eagerly, if inexpertly, and it’s only right for you to reward his enthusiasm. Besides, there’s something about kissing him that feels right, too right for the unholiness of what you are. If being with a mortal feels this good, you’re probably doing it wrong.

What does it matter? As long as you sleep with him, you’ll be free to return home. You’re a demon. Wrongness and rightness don’t factor in. You kiss your mortal carefully, paying some mind to the sharpness of your teeth and the delicateness of his skin. He’s less careful with his teeth. They nick your lip and blood wells out, and he licks it away without a moment’s hesitation. That flick of his tongue makes you consider other places it might belong, and you catch your breath. Or maybe it’s because he’s tugged your underwear aside to touch you directly, and you can no longer ignore the way he makes you feel.

You lean back, struggling to clear your head. A thought crosses your mind. “What’s your name?”

“Tomura.” Your mortal’s crimson eyes are dilated with want, the desperation you were so drawn to evident across his face. “Please –”

You kiss him again, and as he begins to finger you in earnest, stroking your clit and dipping his fingers shallowly inside you, you untangle your fingers from his hair and trace the inside of his thigh. Tomura startles at your touch, but spreads his legs at once, and your head spins with want. “How long have you wanted this?” you murmur against his lips. “Tell me.”

“Eternity.” Tomura twitches as you brush your hand over his groin before returning to toy with his thigh again. “But it’s not what they want me for. Nobody asked what I wanted until you.”

“Then they were missing out.” You bite back a gasp as Tomura sinks two fingers inside you, curling them just so, but his touch is only half the reason – the other half is the thought that you’re the first to see him this way, the only one to see him this way. “If they could see how pretty you are like this –”

“Do you want them to?”

“No,” you decide at once. You brush your hand over his groin again, noting how tightly his pants are stretched over his hardening cock. “I want you all to myself.”

His body jerks, craning upwards into your touch. “Now,” he says, almost demands. “I need it now.”

“People could see,” you warn. “If they walk by, they’ll know we’re up to something. Do you care about that?”

“Yes,” Tomura says, and you run your thumb over the tip of his cock through his pants. His body jerks, and you do it again. Again. “Fuck –”

“We can leave whenever you want,” you say, even as your body tenses around his fingers. You feel wound tight, your legs shaking from the strain, your lungs feeling as though they can’t hold on to even a single whisper of air. Mortals have choked you before while you’re seducing them and it’s never been like this. “Tell me to stop and we’ll go.”

Tomura doesn’t tell you to stop. You undo his belt, unzip his pants, and the instant your hand closes around his cock, he moans, loud enough to attract attention if anyone from the failed singles event is still around. He’s embarrassed by it – you can tell – but he doesn’t tell you to stop, and you keep stroking his cock. “So pretty,” you say, your voice catching as the heel of his hand presses against your clit. “Does that feel good? Let me make you feel even better.”

You grasp his wrist and pull his hand from between your legs, thankful for the reprieve. Tomura tastes his fingers, savoring them in a way that makes you feel almost awkward. “I wasn’t done.”

“No, but you’re about to make a mess.” You give a pointed glance down at his cock, which is oozing enough precum to stain his underwear. “I’ll be right back.”

There’s plenty of space for you under the table, and better yet, you’re out of sight, which means Tomura can’t see your reaction to the way he spreads his legs for you. And you haven’t vanished a moment too soon. You can hear footsteps approaching, and you sit forward and take his cock in your mouth just as the newcomers arrive.

“You sure you need this whole booth when you’re by yourself?” whoever it is asks. You hear Tomura start to answer, but you suck lightly on the tip of his cock, forcing him to bite back a curse. “What is your problem?”

“No problem,” Tomura grunts. You put your tongue to use, tracing it over his tip as you wrap your hand around the rest of his length. “Fuck – fuck off. There are other places to sit.”

The newcomer might say something else, but you can’t hear it around your own heartbeat thudding in your ears. Tomura wants you. He wants you so badly that he’s letting you blow him in public, that he won’t tell you to stop even when the two of you might be caught. The instant the other mortal leaves, you’re cradling his balls in your free hand, then sliding your hand a little further to press against his taint. Tomura’s entire body jerks and trembles. “Careful,” he forces out between gasps of air. “I’m going to – come –”

You wish you weren’t under the table, even if being under the table is necessary to contain the mess. You wish you could see Tomura’s face as his composure shatters, as he tries and fails to thrust upwards into your mouth and spills a ridiculous amount of cum down your throat. But he’s not quite out of control, not yet, and if you’re going to steal his soul, you really should give him what he wants first. You keep stroking his cock even as the shaking subsides, your tongue still dragging over his tip. He hasn’t gone soft just yet. You’re kind of impressed.

You’re impressed, too, with how he holds out. You know you’re overstimulating him, but he hasn’t told you to stop yet. And he asked you to keep going even if he told you it was too much. Still, you don’t like the idea of hurting your mortal. You renew your efforts, employing all the tricks you’ve learned to keep mortal men hanging on your every move, and to your shock, Tomura comes again. This time he’s almost sobbing, and you draw back at once, climbing out from under the table to check on your handiwork.

There are scratches in the couch cushions and on the tabletop, and both the napkins that were on the table have been crumpled out of existence. Tomura looks wrecked. He’s been yanking at the collar of his shirt, running his hands through his hair, and his face is flushed and sweaty. His eyes are blurred, and he’s still breathing hard, but when you lean in to kiss him, he obliges instantly. He’s unsteady, and yet there’s a strange hunger in the way he kisses you, a hunger that takes yours and amplifies it in a way you can’t quantify, let alone guard against. You find yourself melting into his touch, needing closeness, needing contact. And he gives it to you.

You’ve only just settled into a languid pace, your hands in his hair and his arms wrapped firmly around your waist, when someone smacks a server’s tray down on the table and startles you out of it. It’s the bartender. “Do you mind?” she demands, her face red. “This isn’t that kind of place! Take it outside.”

That’s fine with you. A little PDA is one thing, but whatever happens next between you and Tomura, you want privacy for it. You start to slide out of the booth, but Tomura won’t let you. He kisses you again, and you realize he’s giving himself cover to button his pants. But as long as you’re here – “What did I just say?” the bartender explodes. “Get out!”

You and Tomura stumble out onto the street, and the instant the door shuts behind you, Tomura pins you against it to kiss you again. “Does that feel good?” he asks, the same question you asked him earlier. You didn’t give him a chance to answer, and he doesn’t give you one, either. “Let’s go somewhere. You’re not the only one who doesn’t like to share.”

“Where should we go?” you ask. “I’d rather not go to a love hotel. Your place?”

He hesitates for a moment. “My place. Come on.”

You kiss on the train platform, mostly to keep out the cold, but on the train, you find yourself simply looking at Tomura, talking to him. You find out that he got rejected tonight, too, and came to the bar to mope about it. “They’re nothing. Their opinions don’t matter,” he says. Even his disdain sounds like yours. “That doesn’t change how it feels.”

“I know,” you say. You lean against him, your head on his shoulder, your left hand intertwined with his right. “My – date – said I wasn’t his type, then showed me this ridiculous drawing –”

“May his dick shrivel up and fall off,” Tomura says matter-of-factly, and you find yourself giggling. “If you aren’t enough for him, he doesn’t deserve to have any at all. Still –”

He trails off. “His loss, my gain.”

“You’re just saying that because I blew you.”

Tomura snorts. “Don’t be stupid. You asked what I wanted. Nobody’s ever asked me that. That’s not what I’m for.”

“What do you mean?” you ask. He doesn’t strike you as a sex worker – he’s too earnest, too vulnerable, in how he responds to you for it to be his day job. He shrugs, shakes his head. “I think you’re for whatever you want to be for. That’s how you are to me.”

His grip on your hand tightens for a moment, then loosens again, fingers tangling with yours. A strange spark, like an electric shock, ripples across your hand, and you look down to see an odd shadow around your ring finger. That wasn’t there before, but then again, you’ve never spent this long in the mortal world without fulfilling your purpose. “What about you?” Tomura asks. “Why don’t you know what you want?”

“I never thought about it before.” Some of your sisters enjoy their jobs, but it’s always felt like a job to you. Something to get through, so you can go home. “It hasn’t really mattered.”

“It matters now,” Tomura says. “When we get back to my place, I’ll show you.”

Tomura’s place is in a downtown high-rise, the third floor from the top of the building, and he gives you long enough to finally step out of your awful shoes before he peels you out of your jacket. For a single moment you’re convinced you’re about to see the same reaction as the mortal who summoned you, but instead Tomura’s eyes travel slowly over your form, lingering in every place you’d expect and a few places you didn’t. “This picture he showed you,” he says. “The one he thought was better than you. What did it look like?”

“Uh –” Where do you start, really? “The proportions were totally off. Its waist was tiny, and its breasts were huge –”

“Huh.” Tomura’s hands are at your waist, running over the curve from torso to hip and back with a firm, steady touch. One stays there, but the other migrates upwards, cupping your breast through your scant clothing. “What else?”

“It had this stupid outfit on. Like, way smaller than mine. You could see everything,” you say. Tomura’s thumb brushes over your nipple, then comes back to circle it, and heat begins to pool in your lower abdomen. “It barely covered her nipples – or her clit. It just looked kind of – I mean, I can hang in there with the best of them, but –”

Your voice catches. Tomura’s hand slides from your waist down between your legs, stroking your clit with his middle finger. His touch is featherlight, compared to the way he’s playing with your nipple, pinching and tugging it, making you squirm. “What else?” he prompts.

“The stupid face she was making. It was straight out of a porno – like, one of the really cheap ones. What some guy who’s never seen a woman come before would –” You startle as Tomura’s fingers slip further between your legs, then sink easily into you. “Tomura –”

“This drawing sounds like a fucking mess,” Tomura says. He reaches down and grasps your thigh, hiking your leg up around his waist and leaving you even more exposed for him. “I want to see the real thing.”

He wants you to come for him. You know how to fake a convincing orgasm – or an unconvincing one, depending on the target – but you don’t want to fake for Tomura. You promised him he can have what he wants, and he wants this, you. Your chest goes tight. “I don’t know if I can, like this.”

“I’ve got lots of ideas.” Tomura kisses you, and that need to melt into him resurfaces, even as your body responds to his onslaught. “Show me.”

You try to keep kissing him, but you can’t. Your legs are shaking again, and it’s hard to breathe, and you have to draw back to gasp for air. Somewhere in the back of your mind is the thought that this isn’t how it’s supposed to happen, that something went wrong in your seduction of this mortal if he’s the one trying to please you, but it’s stifled by other, more pressing matters. The heat flooding through you, the awful and yet indescribable exposure of your legs spread this way, Tomura’s hand anchoring you so you can’t pull back off his fingers until he’s done with you.

Or until you’re done with him. You come hard enough to blur your vision, hard enough that your legs almost give out, and Tomura keeps his fingers inside you until your twitching and squirming subsides. When he draws them back, you can see that his hand is soaked. He brings them to his mouth to taste them again, and you spot a shadow around his fourth finger. It can’t hold your attention for long. “That was good,” he decides. “But I want to see more.”

“More?” Your voice is shaky, and you’re hanging onto Tomura for dear life. “What do you mean?”

“You said I could have what I wanted,” Tomura reminds you. “This way.”

You follow him down the hall on shaky legs, into a bedroom with an enormous bed. Finally. You’re not getting into bed with Tomura still wearing your horrible outfit, so you peel it off, then turn to help him with his clothes. You undress him slowly, kissing every inch of skin you uncover, trying to regain some of your lost composure. But it’s hard to compose yourself when there’s so much of him to explore, to praise. So pretty, so noisy, so needy even when there’s no need for it – because you want him to have what he wants, and you want to be the one who gives it to him. The only one who gives it to him.

And that’s what you find yourself murmuring, as you guide him down to the bed to lie on his stomach, as you brush his long hair aside to kiss his back and his shoulders. I have what you need. Everything you need. You’re mine.

Tomura’s breathing turned quick and shallow a while ago, worse as you kiss the small of his back, the arch of his hip. He stirs beneath you. “I want to see more,” he says. “On your back.”

He’ll fuck you now, and he’ll come, and then you can finally go home. You spread your legs, leaving room for him to settle between them, and he does – much further down than you expected. He anchors your hips to the bed before you can stop him, holding you down with strong hands as he lowers his head between your thighs. The way his hair brushes against them tickles. The marks he leaves on them are oversensitive, making your legs twinge long before his tongue drags over your clit, and you wonder how you’ll explain the marks when you get back to Hell. How you’ll explain the fact that this mortal seduced you almost as skillfully as you seduced him.

Tomura eats you out messily, enthusiastically, until you’re arching your back and thrashing in his grip. The heat of his mouth against you, the pressure of his tongue against your clit or the way it feels when he licks inside of you – it all feels almost sinful. Too good for you to have, too good to want more of, too good not to beg him to keep going. You can barely manage to praise him for it, but when you do, his grip on your hips tightens and he grinds against the mattress. It’s wrong. There’s something wrong, and you want it so badly, and for the first time, you understand a little bit of why humans are so quick to sell their souls.

Tomura makes you come once, then a second time while you’re still trying to recover, and you barely manage to scramble away before he can slide his fingers inside you and try for a third. “What happened to not being in control?” you ask, and he shrugs, half a smirk on his face. “Lie down. It’s my turn.”

You crawl over him as he lies back, tasting yourself on his lips when you lean down for a kiss. Tomura relaxes so easily for you now, so much that he lets you grasp his hands one by one, raising them above his head. For the first time since you cloaked your true form, you engage in a little bit of demon magic. Enough to conjure restraints, and tie Tomura’s hands to the headboard before he can so much as open his eyes.

You’ve shocked him. You can see it, and better yet, you can feel it, in the way his skin heats up and his heart races. “You said you didn’t want control,” you remind him. “And I said I’d pleasure you until you couldn’t think.”

“Are you?” Tomura’s voice goes raspy. He watches you with wide eyes as you shift further down on the bed. “What are you going to do?”

“Everything.”

You learned all sorts of magic in the course of stepping into your role as a succubus, but this is the first time in a while that you’ve used any of it. And it’s for small things – the restraints on Tomura’s hands, the feather you conjure to trace all over his body until he squirms, the lube you coat your fingers with before you start working them inside him. Tomura doesn’t stop you, but he has a request. “Don’t fuck me like that. Not tonight.”

“Just my fingers,” you promise, and he nods, his eyes dark with need. “Whatever you want.”

You haven’t had the chance to watch Tomura come yet, and you get a chance as you finger him to an orgasm. He takes your breath away, your mortal – so pretty, so vulnerable, so loud and expressive and lost in it that you can’t help but stroke his cock with your free hand while you work him up a second time. In an ordinary seduction, with an ordinary target, now is when you’d stop. Now, when all he can do is beg for you, now when he’d give you anything to keep going; right now is when you’d ask for his soul in exchange. You know how to phrase it so that the mortals never guess what they’re truly giving up. It would be easy.

And it’s not what you want. There aren’t words for how much you don’t want that. Not when you’ve earned your mortal’s trust, not when he’s certain enough that you’ll give him what he wants that he doesn’t feel shame in begging for it. You know Tomura’s close when he starts squirming away from your fingers rather than clenching down on them. “Ride me,” he pants. “Ride my cock.”

Demon magic cleans your hands, and you slip down onto his cock with only a little strain. “You’re perfect,” you tell him as he stares helplessly up at you. “We fit so well –”

Tomura’s hips jerk upwards beneath you, making you gasp. “If we fit so well, come on my cock,” he pants. He’s been yanking at the restraints. You made them soft, but his wrists are chafed. “I need you to. I can’t – fuck, I need you –”

You’ve never needed a mortal before. You’ve never needed anyone before, but you need him, enough that doing what he asks doesn’t feel far-fetched at all. You ride him slowly, finding an angle that suits you, realizing how sore you are in the same moment. It’s been a hard night’s work. Usually mortals can’t keep up with you, and usually it feels like work. Tomura’s fingers curl and uncurl uselessly as he fights the restraints, and you reach up to grasp them, to hold them steady. And that’s when you notice it – the same shadow marking around his fourth finger as around yours.

Where did that come from? What is that? The restraints you conjured vanish in the space of a single heartbeat, and Tomura’s hands clamp down on your hips, guiding you as he thrusts upwards. His hair is glued to his forehead with sweat, to his chest and his shoulders and the sides of his neck, and the same heat writhes beneath your own skin as Tomura takes control over your pace. His thrusts are unsteady, but every time, he finds the angle you need him to.

You can’t breathe. You can barely think. Everything narrows down to heat and pressure and friction and pleasure and agony, because your body’s wrung out and still needs more, because Tomura’s falling apart beneath you and pressing his thumb over your clit to take you down with him. Pleasure explodes through you, collapsing you on top of Tomura. His grip on you barely loosens, even as your efforts to hold onto anything fall away. Anything includes your human guise.

Damn it. You untangle yourself from Tomura as quickly as possible, only to tuck yourself in against his side, uncomfortably relieved when he holds you tight. If you keep your tail under control and he doesn’t get a good look at you, he’ll never know what you really were. He’ll know something’s up, though. When he wakes up and finds that you’ve vanished out of this world, leaving evidence only in the chafe-marks around his wrists and the taste of you still on his tongue, he’ll know there was something strange about you. And he’ll have a lot of questions when you come back.

And you will come back. That’s the only thing that makes the knowledge that you’re mere moments from being drawn back to Hell bearable. Most of the time you can’t wait to leave your targets, whether you’ve collected their souls or not. This time, though – “I don’t want to leave yet.”

But you weren’t the only one speaking. Tomura said the same thing, on the off-beats as you spoke. “You’re leaving?” you ask. “This is your house. Where are you going?”

“Where are you going?” Tomura retorts. His grip on you tightens further – tight enough to bruise, if you were human or mortal. “What –”

He sits up suddenly, pulling you with him. Hell is pulling you back, but not quickly enough. Tomura looks at you, sees you – sees your horns, sees your tail, which is lashing anxiously in spite of your efforts to calm yourself. But you see him, too. You see the ram’s horns curling from beneath his white hair, the sharpness of his teeth. He’s not trying to control his tail at all. It wraps around your leg tightly. “You’re a demon.”

“So are you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t you know?” You try to separate yourself from him. Tomura should be letting go of you, should be shoving you away, but he’s still holding on, tighter every time you try to pull away. “Let go. If they find out –”

The world tears open around the two of you, well before you can pull away, and Hell pulls you back in at warp speed.

You don’t end up back in the spot you dematerialized from, and you doubt Tomura does, either. The two of you crash down on a rocky plateau, just on the outskirts of one of the cities, a desolate place no one comes to unless they’ve been cast out to wander amongst the souls of the dead. Why are you here? Is it because you came back together? Maybe that’s why – it couldn’t return you to your separate summoning locations when you’re so close together, so it split the difference and dropped you off here. Maybe there’s still time for you to hide this.

“Wow,” a familiar voice announces from somewhere behind you, and your heart sinks, “have the two of you fucked up.”

Tomura swears under his breath. “Is that your boss?”

Your boss, or your mother – nobody’s clear on which. Nemuri is picking her way through the jagged stones towards you, a vicious smirk on her face. “I can explain,” you start. “It’s not –”

“I tricked her,” Tomura interrupts. You stare at him in horror. “It was me. Not her.”

“No,” you snap. “I seduced him. I’m the one who –”

“I’m sure you believe that.” Nemuri’s smirk broadens, showing her fangs. “You’re so pathetically incompetent that –”

“Now, now, Nem. Let’s not let my guy off the hook here.” The new voice, loud and rich and full of almost-insane laughter, can only belong to another elder demon. Like Nemuri, he’s wearing a vicious smirk. “Remember, my guy’s the one who got rejected by his summoner and packed it in for the evening. At least yours gave it a second shot.”

“That’s my boss,” Tomura mumbles. “Fuck.”

“In fact,” Tomura’s boss continues, “one could argue that your girl’s off the hook. She did her job. It’s not her fault that my guy’s aura of misery was so strong that it made him actually look human. Or that he was so desperate to be wanted by somebody that he forgot to check whether she was actually a demon trying to steal his soul.”

Tomura’s shoulders hunch, and a surge of anger runs through you. “When you put it that way, Hizashi, it does sound like my nymphet is off the hook,” Nemuri says. “But when your pathetic little imp tried to take the fall for her, she wouldn’t let him. It seems they’re terrible at everything demonic, lying included. They’re telling the truth.”

“They really did seduce each other,” Hizashi muses. “That’s cringe.”

“More importantly, it’s against the rules.” Nemuri’s standing over you. Hizashi joins her, and the two of them leer down at you and Tomura, practically licking their lips. “Whatever shall we do with them?”

There aren’t many punishments that can affect demons – you’re basically gluttons for it. Then again, there aren’t many rules for demons to break. “I’m not sure,” Hizashi says. “Offer them up to Heaven for punishment? Banish them to the mortal world until the trumpets sound? Throw them out to wander with the restless dead forevermore?”

You might not love your job, but you have your sisters. If you’re cast out, you’ll never see them again. The only thing worse would be getting thrown to Heaven as an offering, one of Hell’s not-infrequent tithes to keep the peace. Tomura’s tail wraps around your waist, and you cover his left hand with your right as you wait for your fates to be decided. The thought crosses your mind, pointlessly, that you won’t spend an eternity of exile entirely alone. You’ve dragged someone else down with you, which might be the most demonic thing you’ve ever done in your life.

“Now that I think about it,” Nemuri says, her smirk broadening still further, “I don’t think we need to punish them – not when they’ve punished themselves so effectively.”

“What does that mean?” Tomura snaps. Hizashi is guffawing, his voice echoing off the jagged rocks. “Don’t laugh. What does that mean?”

“What does it mean, you gloomy brat?” Hizashi wipes at his eyes, still chuckling. “Take a look at your hands, both of you.”

You let go of Tomura’s and lift your own. Your right hand is clear, but your left – you remember noticing the shadow around your fourth finger, feeling the faint spark as it darkened a little further. It’s not a shadow anymore. Instead it’s a thin golden shackle, encircling your finger below your knuckle. No, not a shackle. A ring.

It won’t come off. You yank on it, try to dig your nails beneath it, but it won’t come off. Next to you, Tomura’s doing the same, cursing fluently, and Hizashi and Nemuri are laughing at you both, leaning on each other to stay upright. “It’s the first rule we teach you all when you’re spawned. No fucking your own kind, and this is why!” Hizashi is laughing almost too hard to speak, while you try to chew your ring off and Tomura breaks his own finger trying to remove his. “Thanks to your little tryst, the two of you are bound forever in unholy matrimony!”

“My congratulations to the happy couple,” Nemuri says. “The two of you are never going to live this down. You’ll be the laughingstocks of Hell. You’re going to beg us to banish you!”

“And we won’t,” Hizashi says. “I can’t think of a better object lesson than the two of you. We send you to the mortal realm to collect souls, and not only did you end up fucking each other, you didn’t commit a single demonic act!”

“I cursed somebody,” you protest.

“Me too,” Tomura says. “The mortal who –”

You remember what Tomura said about the mortal who rejected you: May his dick shrivel up and fall off. “You cursed the same mortal,” Nemuri says. She pauses a moment. “I will admit, it’s a fairly creative curse. The imp’s little add-on will make a nice insult to the injury.”

You’re better at cursing mortals than you are at seducing them, but you can’t imagine Tomura’s bad at it. Not with the way he worked you over. You duck your head to hide the heat coming up in your face. “Well, we’ll leave the two of you to enjoy your honeymoon,” Hizashi says. He shrugs off the ornate robe he’s wearing and drops it on the ground in front of you, revealing body chains, nipple piercings, and nothing else. “Wear this on your way back into the city. Maintain a little dignity.”

“Here, imp. Just for you.” Nemuri drops her robe over Tomura’s head, and he shoves it off into the dust. “Everyone’s going to know about your little bout of lovemaking, but I imagine you’d prefer if they didn’t know exactly how you’ve been chewing on each other.”

The two of them stroll back towards the city, arm in arm, still laughing. It’s a long time before their laughter fades, and then you and Tomura are alone on the outskirts. The wind, blowing hot a moment before, changes direction, growing cold and carrying sharp shards of ice. You put on Hizashi’s robe, then turn towards Tomura. He’s already shivering, arms crossed and shoulders hunched, Nemuri’s robe discarded in front of him. You pick it up and settle it back around his shoulders, shifting his hair aside so it won’t get caught beneath the collar – and then you realize what you’re doing. You freeze. “Sorry.”

Tomura shrugs, but the robe stays on. “You’re better at this than your boss says you are,” he says without looking at you. “I believed you.”

“I’m worse than she says I am,” you say. “I wasn’t lying.”

Tomura looks up at that, and you look away, your eyes stinging in the freezing wind. You never lied to Tomura, not from the moment you approached him. This would be so much less embarrassing if you had. If you’d listened to any of the moments where you sensed that it was going a little too well, that it felt a little too good. If you’d kept your distance instead of falling under his spell as quickly and easily as he fell under yours. “Your boss was talking out of his ass. Your whole thing worked really well on me.”

“Yeah. Except it wasn’t a thing.” Tomura’s tail wraps loosely around your wrist. “Mutual ruination. You were right.”

He’s got your right wrist. You study your left hand with its ring, and Tomura lifts his alongside yours. His ring looks the same as yours, although he’s dislocated his fourth finger in addition to having broken it. “Want me to fix that?”

“Demon magic doesn’t fix things.”

“It’s not supposed to marry people, either.” You’re not expecting that argument to work, but Tomura lets you capture his hand anyway. You relocate it manually, then try to work some magic over it. All your magic serves to make a seduction easier, so it shouldn’t be hard to twist it into something you can use for the sake of your – “I think it worked. How do you feel?”

“Like I fucked up,” Tomura says. Fair enough. “And I’m not sorry.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” Tomura’s hands slip inside your stolen robe, settling into the same place he was holding on as you rode him. “This isn’t that weird. Mortals do it all the time.”

“Except mortals who get married in Vegas can get divorced,” you point out. Somebody has to play angel’s advocate here, even if you’re already unfolding yourself from seated so you can get into his lap. “We didn’t even make any vows.”

“You did,” Tomura says. “I heard you say it.”

You’re mine. Is that really all it took? It makes a certain kind of sense, when you force yourself to look at it honestly. Mortals almost never doom themselves consciously. It’s always a moment of weakness, a split-second lapse, an instant where desire rules over reason. “Then you can break us up. Since I’m the only one who vowed anything.”

“No way.” Tomura’s lips brush the side of your neck, making your nerves twinge. “I agreed.”

You set your hands on his shoulders and push him backwards, and he goes willingly. The way he’s looking up at you counts as a sin all on its own – crimson eyes half-lidded, pupils already dilating, his cheekbones already dusted with pink. “Did you figure out what you want yet?”

“I have some ideas,” you say. You collect his hands from your waist and pin them on either side of his head, leaning down for a long, slow kiss. “But I’ll start with you.”

[reirexx]

Hmmpphmhmhphhhh I want Shigaraki to brutally manhandle incubus!Dabi by his horn as if it's a fuckin handlebars.

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

❛ master list ❜

▬ last updated: 16.11.2024

♡ ▬ NSFW content (MDNI). | ☁ ▬ means it's angst. | ↺ ▬ means it's a WIP.

Yandere Original Characters ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Kim Seo-Yun x gn!reader | Kim Jeong-Hyun x gn!reader | drabble: ♡ "You make me feel like I am clean again"

α!Kim Jeong-Hyun x Ω!ftm!reader | ABO AU: ♡ " You’re the one who brought the dawn to my eternal nights. " [1/3] ♡ ☁ "I can make it right" [2/3] ♡ ☁ "The reason I survived in hell - was for you, it was not for me." [3/3]

Arcane (2021) ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

VANDER x ftm!prostitute!reader: ♡ "You better lock your door and look at me a little more (we both know I'm worth waitin' for)" [1/3] ♡ ☁ "That heavy breathin' on the floor" [2/3] ↺ ♡ ☁ "I'm yours, I'm yours" [3/3]

JAYCE TALIS x male!reader X VIKTOR | drabble: jayvikyn drabble

Avatar (2009) ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

。。。

Call of Duty (2022) ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Konig x male!reader: ♡ "Oh, oh-oh"

Castlevania (2017) ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

。。。

CREEPYPASTA FANDOM ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

multi!characters x incubus!reader | drabble: ♡ "Just wanna be one of your toys, tonight"

DCU ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

JASON TODD x male!reader: "You get me so high"

SUPERBAT x ftm!reader: ♡ "F*ck me all night, show me who you are"

Dead by Daylight (2016) ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

。。。

Jutjutsu Kaisen (2018) ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

GOJO SATORU x male!husband!reader: ☁ "I WANT THE YOU WHO WANTS ME AGAIN" [1/3] ☁ "WHY AM I IN LOVE ALONE? (WHY AM I HURTING ALONE?)" [2/3] ☁♡ "PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME (PLEASE DON'T FALL)" [3/3] ☁ alternate ending [AU] ☁♡ "YOU ALREADY HAVE A PIECE OF MY HEART (WHICH I HAVE NEVER GIVEN TO YOU)" | au's and what ifs drabble ↳ ❛ __ ❜ [playlist link]

poly!GOJO SATORU & GETO SUGURU x male!reader: ♡ "He's just like candy, he's so sweet"

poly!GOJO SATORU & GETO SUGURU x male!reader: ☁♡ "You know what sinners do when they love too soon (are you ready to die?)"

Hein Era!RYOMEN SUKUNA X concubine!ftm!reader X Heian Era!GOJO SATORU: ♡ "Darling, won't you just plead, or should I begin to bleed?"

α!FUSHIGURO TOJI X Ω!ftm!reader: ♡ "His heart is beating just for me (I can hardly breathe)."

one-sided!KENJAKU X concubine!ftm!reader | RYOMEN SUKUNA X concubine!ftm!reader: ♡ "life and death will always lead to love and regret (but you have the answers, and I have the key)"

Marvel ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

PETER PARKER x male!superhero!reader: "You're just making sure I'm never gettin' over you" [1/2] ♡ "Baby, you know that you won" [2/2]

My Hero Academia (2014) ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

DABI (TOUYA TODOROKI) x ftm!reader: ♡ "Just like that, baby" [1/3]

DABI (TOUYA TODOROKI), TOMURA SHIGARAKI, TAISHIRO TOYOMITSU, SHOTA AIZAWA x ftm!reader: ♡ "Breathe through it" [2/3]

DABI (TOUYA TODOROKI), TOMURA SHIGARAKI, TAISHIRO TOYOMITSU, SHOTA AIZAWA, KEIGO TAKAMI x ftm!reader: ♡ "Good boy." [3/3]

Resident Evil (1996) ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

ghostface!LEON KENNEDY x ftm!ghostface!reader: ♡ "Comin' back for more?"

Sally Face (2016) ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

SAL FISHER x ftm!reader: ☁♡ "I was the boy who was on your side" SAL FISHER x ftm!reader: ♡ "I'll show you how we're supposed to feel (when we meet at Orion's belt)"

LARRY JOHNSON: ↺ ♡ "'Cause it's not a figure of speech, you got me down on my knees"

Slashers ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

COREY CUNNINGHAM x gn!reader: ♡ "Helping Hand"

multi. characters x transmasc!reader | dating drabble: "beautiful (darling)"

multi.characters x male!slasher!reader | dating drabble: "take my soul (need control)"

poly!BILLY LOOMIS & STU MACHER x male!reader: "Line of Sight"

poly!COREY CUNNINGHAM & OG!MICHAEL MYERS x gn!reader "Say yes to heaven (say yes to me)"

The Legend of Korra (2012) ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

TONRAQ x male!reader ♡ "situation might get sticky, icky"

Teen Wolf (2011) ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

MIECZYSLAW "STILES" STILINSKI x male!werewolf!reader: ♡ "Burn for you" DEUCALION x male!werewolf!reader: ♡ "Show Me How" [1/2] ♡ "Show Me How" [2/2]

The Walking Dead (2010) ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

。。。

The Witcher (2019) ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

。。。

[fairytsuk1]

∙ tsuyu asui:

sweet cream (f)

∙ katsuki bakugou:

distant memories (a)

trainwreck - chapters: 01 | 02

touch your toes. (s)

i spy with my little eye (s)

everlasting love (a)

college!au

getting your hair done

online shopping

you. keep. moaning.

bf!katsuki

christmas

too many naps

gift-giving

after the fight with shigaraki

four seasons | (s)

katsuki and softie!gf pt.2 pt.3

the one who can’t keep his hands off you

katsuki with a perfect girlfriend

∙ sero hanta: 

bf!sero

sending nudes

∙ kyoka jirou:

friends who kiss

∙ denki kaminari: 

pathetic denki

∙ eijirou kirishima:

i spy with my little eye (s)

spying on you

∙ izuku midoriya: 

my heart weeps for you. (a)

bf!izuku

his housewife

helping you study

halloween decorating

defending you

cupid's arrow | (s)

izuku who wants you so bad

∙ tomura shigaraki:

i was all over her (a)

streamer!au

dirty talk

helping you cheat

delinquent college boyfriend

bachata baby | (s)

professor!shigaraki

∙ hitoshi shinsou

rainy day

∙ aizawa shota:

rocks in the river (f)

incubus aizawa

shota cuts all your vegetables

get on your knees | (s)

∙ keigo takami:

wings of the devil (a)

∙ dabi todoroki:

you traitor. (a & f)

rocky relationship

in honour of his bday

innocent to wicked | (s)

∙ shoto todoroki:

i can’t wait to meet you (f)

do you pinky promise, papa? (f)

falling back to peace (a)

yandere!au

addicted to fucking

looking glass | (s)

blowjob with shoto

[crybaby-bkg]

Under Wicked Charm

Dabi x f!reader

Warnings: smut, no quirks, demon sex, incubus Dabi, succubus reader, blood kink/play, dom/sub undertones (sub leaning Dabi), reverse cowgirl, deep throating, cunnilingus, dick piercing (ofc), aphrodisiacs, 69 position, implied age gap, unprotected sex, mentions of wings tail and horns, a bit of praise, creampies, brief mention of pregnancy. please let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 4.8k

Notes: I’m so not used to writing a dom top but I’m TRYING okay lmfao I love reading it but don’t write it enough but how will I get better if I don’t write it more!!!! also this has been on my ao3 for a while I just got lazy uploading it here lol but pls enjoy!!

Minors/blank/ageless blogs DNI!

also available on ao3!

The bar is darkly lit, a strobe effect being casted upon a crowd of people, drunk and high alike. It feels like everyone has been dancing for hours; feet sore, legs cramped, but somehow unable to stop themselves from grinding and groping, singing and screeching, until they drop. 

They don’t know that this is a club for the otherworldly. 

The fairies in the corner all snicker at the people who complain of the aches and pains, going round and round in circles, despite the stabbing pain they must feel in their toes. Dabi is all too familiar with it, after pissing a fae off once when he ghosted her. He can only imagine how the humans feel, being forced to dance this macabre number until they pass out from exhaustion. 

When that bores him, Dabi turns away from the crowd, rests on the bar in front of him. He whistles at the bartender, a witch who knows him all too well and the good stuff that he likes mixed in with his drinks. She nods to him before fixing it, and he catches her dumping something from one of her little vials into his drink, the black fume wallowing up and around her arm before she shakes it away, mixing it all in with a red straw. 

“You remembered,” He nods his head to her with a teasing grin, watches how she rolls her eyes as she pushes his drink over for him to catch. 

“And you never remember to pay your tab.” She quips back, but she can’t help the proud smile on her face when he downs half of it in one sip, groaning when he finally pulls the rim away from his wet lips. He licks the moisture away, before glancing up at her from under dark lashes. 

“What’s a tab again?” Dabi asks playfully, slinking away into the dance floor as she hollers for him to stop playing stupid when already is. He can’t help but snicker under his breath, sipping at his drink as he makes his way through the crowds of people until he finds the steps that lead up to the higher level, where the VIP sections are. He nods his head at Shigaraki, who sits in his section with his feet up and his phone in his hand, and instead of sitting with the boring fuckin’ crowd, Dabi leans on the railing that overlooks the lower section. 

He needs his meal for tonight. He’s gone a couple of days without feeding, mainly because he just didn’t feel like the hunt. It can become tiresome having to look for a potential meal; find someone suitable, desperate enough, flirting with them, convince them to take him home, screw them into their bedsheets, and flee before they could even wake up. He would much rather come in the night when someone is sleeping, but that proves to be a lot of work, too. 

So he looks into the crowd, ignoring the otherworldly people who want to spend a night with an incubus. His charm isn’t even as strong on them, so he doesn’t understand the hype of it all, plus he can’t even feed as well on them, so its really just a waste of time. 

But then, Dabi locks eyes with you. You’re in the middle of the dance floor, body turned, chin held up, as you stare at him from where he leans on the railing above. His eyebrows jump up in surprise, before he neutralizes his expression quickly. You were staring at him with such an intense look, he wondered if you were somehow other-kin that he hadn’t seen before. But you seem human for the most part, with a devilish little grin and tits to die for in your small top. 

Okay, color him intrigued. 

You dance amongst the people, although you don’t seem to be under the same spell as the people that the fae are fucking with. Your moves are sultry, all smooth and sweet and dripping sin off of your swaying hips like a leaky faucet. Dabi feels hypnotized, in a sense, as he watches you, taking another sip from his drink as he doesn’t dare take his eyes off of you. When you see his bright cerulean eyes drag up and down your body slowly, you grin even wider, and he fears he might see canines too sharp for a human mouth. But the imagery is gone before he can clock it, and he blames it on the potion that witch put in his drink. 

Dabi crooks his fingers at you, signaling for you to come to where he’s at, and you cock your head at him in response, a teasing little quirk of your eyebrow directed at him. He points to the stairs below, and feels a shiver rack up his spine with how you lazily drag your eyes from his face, to his hand, to the stairs, and back at his face. 

What the fuck is up with you, and why the fuck are you making him feel like this? Are you human? You look like it for the most part, but something about your allure makes him think that he’s in troubled waters and you’re the alligator ready to lock him tight inside your maw. 

Dabi blinks, and you’re gone. He doesn’t see you anywhere on the dance floor or the steps, and he wonders if he somehow scared you off. But then you tap at his shoulder blade, and it makes his head whip around faster than he thought it could. 

You’re even prettier up close. Your makeup is done up in such a way that your eyes look sharp, all shadowed depths creating dimensions that he feels like he might get lost in, your lips a deep plum color, your bottom lip just waiting to be bitten. 

“You ask me to come up here just to stare at me? I would’ve figured you had better game than this, Dabi.” Your voice is a low sultry tone, quiet despite the loud roars of the speakers in the club and—wait, how did you know his name? Dabi quirks a surprised eyebrow at you, pausing where he went to reach out for you, hand resting midair as he takes you in. 

“Do I know you from somewhere?” You couldn’t have been one of the humans he’s bedded once before; he would remember such an addicting face and voice if he did. You only shrug at him, saddling up to where he was leaning against the railing as now its your turn to overlook the people below. He watches you, follows your movements until your shoulders brush against each others, breath sucking in at the electrical zap that pulses through his body when his flesh skims yours. 

“You don’t know me, but I know you.” You flirt, winking at him and bumping him a little when he can’t take his eyes off of you. Dabi straightens out, clearing his throat a little as he tries to wrack his brain for every encounter he’s ever had where he could’ve seen you before. It’s rare someone knows him and he doesn’t know them in return, as being one who gets around due to his ‘line of work’. You baffle him, and you can tell how much the gears in his head are turning through the concentrated look that has fallen on his face. 

“Nice to formally meet you.” You tell him your name, reaching your hand out for Dabi to shake. He glances at it, and then your face, before he finally takes your hand in his own, squeezing the softness of your palm. He’d love to feel that wrapped around his dick tonight. 

“Tell me; what crazy fucking story have you heard about me to know me?” Dabi asks you, still holding onto your hand, now rubbing the backs of your knuckles with his thumb. Through the contact, he can start to release his pheromones, the shit that drives you humans crazy. While you won’t be able to smell it as much in the heady atmosphere of the club, it’ll sink into your skin, glide through your system until you feel high on the attention from him. And then after that—you’ll be wrapped around his finger and bouncing on his dick in no time. 

You go on speaking to each other for a while, flirtatious banter being exchanged between the two of you. You get closer throughout the night, from Dabi caressing your hand, to your own grazing the hair at his nape, to his chest pressed against yours, to your thigh straddling one of his as you press against each other. He thinks his charm has worked finally, if that hazy look in your eyes has anything to say about it. 

“Wanna get outta here?” Dabi asks you, his head tilted toward your own, his nose brushing against yours. Both of your arms are wrapped around his neck as you slowly sway to the beat, your hips grinding occasionally on his knee slotted in between your thighs. You nod, biting at your bottom lip, the lipstick you have on seemingly never budging and he makes it his mission tonight to smear it all over your face with his thumb and tip. 

“My place or yours?” You whisper to the air between your mouths, his hovering over yours, teasingly so. Dabi grins at that, warm hands squeezing once, twice at your hips. 

“Whatever’s closer.”

..

You come stumbling into your loft before you know it, clothes flying every which way. His boots are kicked off, and you still have a heel resting haphazardly on your ankle. His shirt rides up to his collarbones, and yours is somewhere left in a trail on the floor. You two can’t even make it to your bed, falling on the couch as Dabi pulls you on top of him, his hands gravitating instantly to your ass. He kneads the flesh in his hands, groaning under his breath when you start to rock your hips to no rhythm in particular, gasping inside of his mouth. 

You’re so intoxicating, so addicting, Dabi almost forgets that he’s the one in charge, that you’re the one under his spell, and not the other way around. It’s hard to remember that though, when his head starts to feel foggy and his limbs start to get too loose for him to not panic. 

Did you drug him? Even if you did, it would’ve burned through his body quicker than it would’ve dissolved in his drink. So why does he feel like this? Why does he feel like he’s the one under his own charm, like he’s a desperate bitch in heat that just wants to cum?

“What did you do to me?” Dabi asks groggily, laying his head down on a throw pillow behind him, disconnecting from your sweet mouth as he groans. He squeezes his eyes shut, starting to freak out internally, as an evil little giggle from you starts to float around the room. He doesn’t see the change happening in front of him, right on his lap, and only snaps his eyes open when your tone is way too devilish than any human should be. 

“Oh, little fledgeling, you have so much learning to do.” You purr to him, grinning, waving at him with sharp, black tipped, taloned fingers. 

What. The. Absolute Fuck?

“You’re a—a succubus?” Dabi asks, groaning again and clutching his sides when something pulses through him, something so strong and unwavering, that he has to shift his hips around to make sure he didn’t just cum on himself untouched. Your laugh floats throughout the room as you start rocking your hips against his, ignoring his almost pained groaned as you tilt your head back. 

“I’m a greater succubus, little fledgeling. Older than you could even comprehend.” You moan sweetly, taloned fingers starting to massage your tits from overtop your lacy bra. Dabi can only sit back and watch, dazed and confused and entirely too turned on to function as he takes all of you in. 

Your smile is wide, canines sharp and wicked where they rest just a few centimeter down from your bottom lip. Your irises an unnatural crimson, like stained blood, black horns twisting and twirling from your temples, tipped a dark purple like the stain on your lips. Your skin seems to have some glow underneath, a pulsing rhythm that correlates with the way you grind your hips into his, wings that span as wide as the room flapping and twitching with every little hiccuped gasp that comes up from his throat. They’re leathery and dark, just like the swishing, evil little forked tail that shoots out in front of Dabi’s nose, only to slyly trace the outline of his face, almost lovingly. 

You’re a sight that he’s never witnessed before, and for some reason, he feels blessed to have fallen under the trap of a greater succubus. 

“Why so shy now?” You ask him with a pout, leaning forward until your breast rests against his chest, nose to nose with him, your tail now rubbing the hairs on his eyebrows. Dabi sucks in a shaky breath, trying to regain his composure, the control he never actually had, and swallows thickly. 

“How did you disguise yourself so well?” He mutters, biting back a moan when you suck on the sensitive part under his jaw, hips still a slow rock on top of him. “We can always tell when someone is—when another one of us are—”

His brain is completely fried at the moment. Finds it hard to think, see, hear, and breathe with the way you tongue and nibble at his neck, with the way you put more pressure down on his pelvis with your own weight. He can feel his cock spurt against his thigh, fears he might cum without even directly touching you—but this was why he could never sleep with another succubus, especially not a greater one. 

You things were downright heathens, all tantalizing, all sweet and devilish little smiles, luring people in until you caught them with the honeyed trap between your thighs. But you—you were different. You were sin in and of itself, and Dabi doesn’t think that he could ever be a match for you. 

“That’s the power of being greater. I can disguise myself from anyone that I please, and I wanted to have just a bit of fun with my meal first.” He can hear the bite in your voice, the eery laughter bubbling up from your throat as you trace sharp canines against the flesh of his throat, threatening to bite. Dabi feels himself swallowing thickly before he can stop it, and you outright laugh at him as you sit up. 

“Now, are you gonna be a good boy and let me eat you?” You ask him breathily, tracing a sharp talon up his chest, grinning when he hisses at the trail of black blood you leave on his torso. Dabi glances at the trail, before meeting your blood red eyes, licking his lips as he nods slowly, gripping your hips tightly in his hands. 

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.” Dabi mutters to you, eyes now solely focused on the way your skirt rides up as you sit in his lap. But you demand his full and complete attention, talons gripping his cheeks to make him look you in the eye, as the other hand trails ribbons of black blood down the other side of his stomach. 

“Beg for it.” You demand of him, licking sweetly at the seam of his mouth and pulling away when his tongue darts out to greet yours. “Beg for me to fuck you, fledgeling.”

Dabi downright moans at the tone, at the authority laying in your voice. He’s always been the one in charge, always took control with the little humans he would charm. But you, you’re all power and control and commandment, and he can’t help but fall pray to a demon older than his own ancestors. 

“Fuck me.” Dabi spits at you, letting his own claws extend as he digs them into the skin of your thighs. You glance back at them, chuckling at the little beads of blood that he spills from you, gripping his face harder at the sheer audacity he could have with you. 

“Attitude, I see. A stubborn one.” You muse, turning his face to the side to lick up the blood that you’ve squeezed out from his cheek under your talon. Dabi hisses at the contact, and you can smell his pheromones trying to take over the aroma in the room. How cute, he’s trying so hard to be in control. 

You couldn’t wait to ruin him. 

You pull back quickly, hands reaching down quickly to shred him of his jeans, a big pile of his clothes and your own making a mess of the couch and floor. Dabi can’t even keep up with how quickly you work, your tail flickering out to knick at his boxers, entirely too close to his dick when you expose him. He hisses, before holding his breath when the forked tip of it hovers menacingly over his mushroomed head, sitting up on his elbows as he gets ready to throw you off of him. 

“Scared?” You tease with a smile, watching how his low cerulean eyes narrow at you when your tail soothes over the precum dripping down his shaft, so fake innocent. You knick the side of your panties until they fall into a heap in his naked lap, grinning when his eyes immediately zone in on how your sticky lips split open when you sit on his shaft. 

“Does your pussy have teeth? That would scare me,” Dabi snips at you, his voice low as he grips your hips to start making you grind along his shaft, this time with no barriers in between. But you scoff at him, digging your nails into his hand until he releases you with a hiss, quickly maneuvering your body until your ass is in his face and his cock is in yours. 

“Shut up, and put my pussy in your mouth already.” You throw over your shoulder with a little huff, giving him no time to process the beauty in front of him before you lick a long stripe down from his tip to his balls. Dabi groans hoarsely, head thrown back as he holds onto your ass for dear life. 

“Y’don’t have to keep using your charm on me,” He mutters, damn near miserable with how hard his cock is throbbing in your warm hands. But you only chuckle at him, waving your ass in his face for him to get to work already, as you dip your tongue in his cockhole. 

“Why shouldn’t I?” You ask him in a hum, mouthing at his tip before you suck his mushroom head in your hot mouth. Dabi hisses, holding your cheeks open until he’s greeted by the pretty sight of your sticky lips and twitching hole and cute rim. His eyes go low as he sniffs in the pheromones that drip onto his chest, mingling with the blood that slowly evaporates from his skin, your essence dripping and mingling into his very being. 

“Because I already want you.” Dabi mutters, shoving his face between your cheeks and holding them closed until they swallow his head. He licks at you, feverishly, feeling your charm overtaking him more and more as he’s engulfed in where the scent is strongest. He can’t stop his hips from bucking up into your mouth as your smell surrounds him, licking doggishly at your cunt, making you moan high in your throat. 

“Yeah? Well I want you pliant and susceptible, like the easy little thing you are.” You tell him, reaching a hand back to shove his head even further between your cheeks, grinding back on his face as he starts slurping on your hole, determined to taste every thing slips from you. 

You sigh, ducking down to bob your head on his cock, taking him in easily, like you’ve been sucking cock all of your life. And in a sense, he guesses that you really have. Dabi pulls back for a breath, spitting on your cunt and thumbing it into the arousal that drips from your inner thighs, licking it all back up slowly. 

“Did you just call me a slut?” He grunts, grinding his cock deep into your throat, head falling back momentarily when he realizes that you don’t have a gag reflex. Most sex demons don’t, but he doesn’t sleep with them regularly, and you’re also greater, so it makes the experience all the more euphoric. 

“Well if the slut panties fit,” You tease him, reaching back to shove his face back between your cheeks when you realize that he’s had enough air. Dabi doesn’t complain though, but he does whimper when you start fondling his balls in your hand at the same time you swallow around his shaft, nose buried into the pubes there. 

Dabi suckles at your clit, feeling your hole throb against his skin, reaching a hand up to start gliding a bony finger inside of you. Your sultry moan vibrates around his cock, and it twitches so violently, that he fears it might jump straight from your mouth. But you keep him in, humming around him, soft, warm hands tugging and tugging at his balls until his toes curl and he can only find it in him to lap at your cunt like a dog. 

You’re messy, where you suck him off, all loud slurps and gulps and swallows, the sound of spit dirtying his pubes. He can hear the sticky sounds of your hands jerking off his shaft when you pull off, how your throat closes around him, how you pull his prince Albert piercing with your teeth gently, how your fingers rub at the seam of his balls. It feels like all too much, like he can’t keep up, like he might burst from the inside and spray your entire little loft in cum and black blood. 

Before Dabi can even register that he’s coming, you pull your mouth off of him, moving around too quick for him to catch, and he damn near yelps when he feels another, tighter heat engulfing him. He struggles to peel his eyes open, mouth dropped lewdly at the sight of you riding him reverse cowgirl style while he still cums from you sucking him off. He’s too sensitive, and you’re too tight, and too mean, with how you look over your winged shoulder and laugh maniacally at the pitiful and pained expression on his face. 

“Aww, poor little fledgeling can’t keep up? How fucking pathetic.” You bite at him, hips and ass dropping quickly as you ride him. Dabi tries his damndest to keep up, to slow you down with the pumping of his pheromones, but at the moment, he can’t even tell up from down. Can only lay there as you take him, fuck him the way you said you would, tight and hot cunt clenching down around him with every drop of your hips. 

“This dick only good for little humans, huh? Can’t hang with a succubus, now can you, baby?” You tease, grinning, one hand on your lower back as you fuck yourself down on him, moaning when the pierced head of his cock grazes something soft inside of you. You press down on your lower stomach where you feel him, eyes fluttering shut as you take him for your own pleasure. 

“F-Fuck, slow down s-some,” Dabi stutters uncharacteristically, teeth grit as he can feel his own canines starting to protrude, losing all sense of stability as your cunt clamps down tight around his dick. You’re trying to kill him, aren’t you? With your tail reaching around and under you to keep rubbing over his tightening balls, with your wings fluttering in his face, with your sharp talon reaching back to trail more blood down his bellybutton, pooling in his lap. It creates a wet slapping sound where you drop your hips, and the feeling of his cum and blood now staining your cunt and inner thighs only makes you howl in pleasure. 

“Keep up or shut the fuck up, fledgeling. This is all for me.” You growl at him, your playful energy suddenly gone as you glare at him over your shoulder. It shouldn’t make his cock throb the way it does, but he listens to you. Only because he wants to cum again and feel how tight you’ll get around him, his head hazy and filled only with thoughts of you riding him until he passes out on your couch. 

Dabi does as told, clamping his mouth shut, breathing heavily through his nose as he struggles with keeping up with you. He can only hold onto your hips, and hope that you cum first this time, because he doesn’t think he can handle you still going after he’s cum for the second time. 

Luck seems to be on his side though, as he feels his balls tightening once more, but you start to lose your rhythm, hips stuttering against his, a wet kissing sound every time you drop down. Dabi picks up where you seem to slip off, hands clamped tight around your hips as he starts thrusting up into you, watching the bounce of your ass and how your tail doesn’t know what to do with itself at the height of your pleasure. 

“Fuck me, just like that, baby, just like that. Make me cum on this dick, cmon.” You growl through gritted teeth, eyes clamped shut as you throw your head back, voice staccato and a low growl. Dabi clenches his jaw, focused purely on bringing you over the edge as his orgasm creeps up closer in his lower belly. He reaches around your hip, strumming quickly and messily at your clit, hearing you whimper out before you start clamping down tight around him. 

“Shit!” You yelp, body jerking as you orgasm, cunt suffocating his cock as you keep riding him through the throes of pleasure. Dabi unclenches his jaw, canines scraping his chin as he growls at the feeling, his orgasm not too far behind as he keeps fucking you through it. He stills when the first rope of cum spurts inside of you, back arching off of the couch when evil little you moans and starts rubbing at his balls with every twitch of them. 

“That’s right, little fledgeling. Fill me up, just like that, doing so well,” the praise you sing to him gets to his head as you keep grinding on his lap and rubbing at his balls. He thinks he might’ve cum dry at some point, his cock kicking inside of you despite not feeling any extra leaking from his tip. His eyes are screwed shut, his body pulled taut, finally collapsing into a heap on the couch when you stop riding and fondling him. 

Dabi swears he hears you say something about being knocked up with little incubus and succubus babies now thanks to him, but he’s out like a light before the words can even register in his head. 

…

When Dabi wakes up the next morning, he thinks that it might’ve all been a dream, that his sins are finally starting to catch up with him. But you’re standing in the kitchen across the open layout of your loft, in nothing but a pair of panties, your wings and horns and tail still on display and just as grand as he remembers. He groans, head falling back onto the pillow he slept on, as you perk up at the sound of him. 

“Good morning, little fledgeling.” You singsong, pulling out a few things from the fridge as you smile in his direction when he pokes his bedhead up from over the back of the couch. He looks so adorable like that, you think. 

“Breakfast will be ready in twenty.” You tell him, bringing flame underneath the pan in front of you with a snap of your finger. Dabi squints at you, frowning, as he checks the clock on your kitchen wall that’s framed by a black cat. Hm, cute. 

“I’m not hungry, and plus, I should be getting out of here.” Dabi groans, standing, uncaring of his naked state as you obviously don’t either. You both glance at each others bodies, before you turn from him, tutting under your breath. 

“I don’t think so.” You declare, scrambling the eggs before you, speaking up when Dabi opens his mouth to protest. “You’re going to stay here and eat, because you need your energy.” At that, he quirks a brow, strolling leisurely to you as he scratches his stomach, wrapping a finger around your curious tail when he gets close enough. 

“Energy for what?” He asks, grunting in surprise when your tail suddenly pulls him in, his front against your back as you look at him from over your shoulder with a devilish smile that makes his cock twitch against your ass. 

“Round two.” You say simply with a shrug before going back to the eggs. Dabi can only blink, before he shrugs with a nod. 

“Round two doesn’t sound bad at all.” 

[princess-of-the-corner]

So, are you still taking MonsterMHA Asks? What is everybody?

YES

So this is basically trading powers for Magic and Monsters SO

Gonna start off with the Complicated™ bits before going into what everything is.

The Complicated stuff is the AfO/OfA and Izuku-Tenko situation!

AfO and Yoichi are both Fae.

The OfA passing-down-power thing is a powerful Fae Deal made between the users and passed down. Some users were various other monster species.

Now for the Izuku-Tenko situation. Basically, Changelings!

AfO wanted to yoink Tenko to use for his plans because he's a petty bitch like that. But he /is/ Fae he has to obey by the nature of Fae and trade something. So he creates a child of his own to trade for a different child.

He puts the Changeling Child in Tenko's room, the child's magic working to make him resemble the other, and takes the real Tenko. But he's also still a petty bitch so he decides to try and kill the family via house fire.

This doesn't entirely work because the Changeling Child wanders off. He's found by Inko, and imprints on her as a mother-figure almost immediately, his still-active Magic causing his features to switch from looking like 'Tenko' to looking like if Inko was his real mother.

Because the Child ran away and looks different, no one clocks him as 'Tenko' anymore. Tenko is presumed dead by fire, the Child is assumed to be abandoned. Inko takes him in and names him 'Izuku'.

This leads to some later fuckery because the Changeling Deal is not complete, as Izuku didn't replace Tenko, and now he never can because he's crafted the identity of 'Izuku'. But both Izuku and Tenko have claim to the name 'Tomura Shigaraki' or anything where the wording is about AfO's child.

Anyway! All the other fuckery of who's what:

the rest of 1-A

Katsuki - Werewolf (newly turned. Like literally had a single Full Moon before UA)

Ochako - Bakeneko

Shoto - Demon/Angel hybrid (Yeah basically for all the Todorokis just imagine their same Fire/Ice but with this nonsense)

Kirishima - Dragon

Mina - Slime

Denki - Frankenstein's Monster

Iida - Pegasus

Tsu - Merfolk

Sero - Arachne/Spidertaur

Momo - Selkie (Bear Variant)

Jiro - Human/Witch (Bard)

Fumikage - Harpy (botw-style rito tbh)

Eimi - Living Shadow

Hagakure - Ghost

Koda - Gargoyle

Ojiro - Tsukumogami of a Wing Chun Wooden Dummy (think Velveteen Rabbit)

Sato - Human/Witch (Potionmaker)

Aoyama - Sphinx

Himiko - Shapeshifter(sometimes also called Changeling but different from Izuku) and afflicted with Vampirism.

Shinso - Siren

(I still don't have anything for Shoji so RIP)

Other UA students:

Tetsutetsu - Dragon

Pony - Unicorn

Mei - Gremlin

Teachers:

Aizawa - Gorgon

Present Mic - Banshee

Midnight - Succubus/Incubus

Vlad King - Vampire

Nezu - Former Witch's Familiar, now a Witch himself.

All Might - Human-turned-Fae via OfA Contract.

Bonus characters:

Eri - Kirin(Dragon/Unicorn hybrid)

Lady Nagant - Human/Witch (Necromancer), formerly The Grim Reaper

Hawks - Erote, currently The Grim Reaper

[oxygen537art]

[shuckinbeanz]

✨BNHA MAIN MASTERLIST✨

MINORS 👏 DNI! 👏 AGE 👏 IN 👏 BIO 👏 OR 👏 DNI! 👏 Head on over to @candybowbeansies please for my SFW pieces, or be blocked if you interact here! 😇

Underage characters are Aged Up! If that’s not your cup of tea, DNI with me/block me, please!

✨S!NFULLY INDEXED!✨

Our heroes(and villains!) below!

~~~

ALL MIGHT

HAWKS

SUNEATER

ERASERHEAD

SHIGARAKI TOMURA

BAKUGO KATSUKI

DABI

TODOROKI SHOTO

ENDEAVOR

KIRISHIMA EIJIRO

KAMINARI DENKI

TENYA IDA

TOKOYAMI FUMIKAGE

SERO HANTA

OVERHAUL

TETSUTETSU

FATGUM

GANG ORCA

YOARASHI INASA

DEKU

LEMILLION

PRESENT MIC

TWICE

~~~

Series:

xpregnant!reader songfics(SFW)

gangster!au(NSFW)

Gods of Fertility!au(NSFW)

Wandwed!au

Yandere!Ghostface(NSFW)

My Incubus!Boyfriend(NSFW)

~~~

Multi-Fandom, *AMBIGUOUS CHARACTER(S)* x reader Fics:

Find You In My Dreams *1* (SFW)

Better Than Them*1* (SFW)

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Lots of doodles, some incubus!Shigaraki as well!

[ao3feed-izch]

Taimanin Izuku

by Barrel2s1cool

Izuku Mizuki seems to be a normal boy with a normal life but he had a family secret which is unexpected.

Words: 1363, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: 対魔忍アサギ | Taimanin Asagi (Anime), 対魔忍ユキ��ゼ | Taimanin Yukikaze (Anime), 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga), 龍が如く | Ryuu ga Gotoku | Yakuza (Video Games)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: F/M, Multi

Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Mizuki Shiranui, Akiyama Tatsurou, Mizuki Yukikaze, Original Female Character(s), Kuroi Ryuuji, Kiryu Kazuma

Relationships: Midoriya Izuku/Uraraka Ochako, Akiyama Tatsurou/Mizuki Yukikaze, Mizuki Shiranui/Kiryu Kazuma

Additional Tags: Aldera Middle School Faces Consequences (My Hero Academia), Bakugou Katsuki Faces Consequences, Good Parent Todoroki Enji | Endeavor, Dabi | Todoroki Touya is Not a Villain, Dead Bakugou Katsuki, Shigaraki | Tomura is an Incubus, Dragon Kiryu Kazuma, Parental Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Parental Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead | Dadzawa, Parental Kiryu Kazuma

source: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51654268

[mossy-opal]

it's funny bc I'm part French I have QUESTIONS

8 (it's my fav question, so you get it too), 26, 46 & 49 please <3

I have answers!

8. What song would make a great fic (to either write or read)?

Hounds or (She's) Just a Phase, by Puma Blue. Both of them are beautiful songs that I really love, and would like to write some fics for!

26. Would you rather write a fic that had no dialogue or one that was only dialogue?

As much as I love writing dialogue, I'd have to write something with no dialogue, rather than only dialogue. Maybe someday I could challenge myself, but it just seems really hard as a concept alone.

46. Do you prefer writing on your phone or on a computer (or something else)? Do you think where you write affects the way you write?

I prefer my computer! I'm much faster with my computer than my phone, but usually I write on my phone just for convenience sake. That, and if I have an idea, I wanna get it written down somewhere as quickly as possible.

49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it!

Ooooh, other than the Incubus Dabi and Succubus Shigaraki, I have this in the works, don't tell anyone tho;

It's an AU, that's all I can say. Will it be finished? Who knows~

[chipen]

THE  PROBLEM  WITH  TOMURA  SHIGARAKI'S  UPBRINGING  is  that  sensei  had  instilled  in  him  that  while  people  were  useful  to  a  degree,  they  were  tools  in  the  end  -  better  to  discard  save  for  the  truly  loyal  ones.  yet  -  this  little  league  of  his,  the  foundations  of  it,  was  filled  with  people  he...  actually  liked.  they  didn't  necessarily  make  him  a  better  person,  but  they  certainly  made  him  a  better  leader  -  and  dabi,  dabi  had  a  propensity  for  bringing  out  both  the  worst,  and  the  best  of  shigaraki,  digging  beneath  his  skin  like  a  switchblade  to  draw  forth  crimson  ire  and  fetid  lust,  until  they  didn't  know  where  one  of  them  ended  and  the  other  began.  shigaraki  was  no  fool  -  not  by  a  long  shot  -  he  knew  they  were  an  outlet  for  one  another...  no  more,  no  less.  and  yet...

he  needed  it.  he  needed  dabi,  but  like  hell  he'd  say  it  aloud  to  the  little  bastard.

❝ yeah, ❞  he  murmurs  in  that  ever  lazy  way  his,  too  slow  to  be  considered  anything  but  insidious.  ❝ a  reward.  a  real  good  one. ❞  his  hand  departs  from  his  own  abdomen,  finding  dabi's  legs  instead.  slowly  -  it  descends,  dancing  across  the  healthy  flesh  with  four  indolent  fingers.  ❝ gotta  keep  playing  though. ❞  and  with  his  touch  -  he  now  follows  -  down,  down,  down  -  and  rather  gracelessly  rolls  himself  over  onto  his  stomach,  to  peer  up  at  the  elder  from  betwixt  those  mile  long  legs.  tomura  hums  -  low  and  lazy,  trained  ear  listening  for  each  upward  swing  of  the  sword,  each  failed  or  successful  combo,  each  moment  the  little  elf  took  damage...  it  seems  like  minutes  eek  by,  crimson  eyes  trained  upon  dabi's  concentrated  features,  before  he  finally  seeks  his  prize.

grand  commander  of  the  paranormal  liberation  front  -  head  of  the  league  of  villains.  tomura  shigaraki  was  a  warped  and  evil  little  thing,  and  he  demonstrates  it  now,  in  full  purview  of  the  flame  user,  by  edging  his  mouth  along  the  outline  of  dabi's  cock  through  his  underwear.  from  base  to  tip,  he  mouths,  tongue  lazy  and  indolent,  feeling  the  heat  stir  to  life  beneath  his  ministrations.  wicked  indeed  -  but  tomura  indulges  still,  until  cockhead  is  hard  enough  to  poke  from  the  waistband  of  boxer  briefs  and  he  can  lave  his  tongue  lightly  across  the  sliver  of  tip  available  to  him.  sometimes  -  tomura  gets  like  this,  wicked  and  needy,  carving  out  desires  from  the  man  before  him  until  he  can  give  no  more,  drinking  him  dry  like  some  god-forsaken  modern  day  incubus  and  then  asking  for  another  round.  it  was  just  another  of  his  vices.

❝ mm, ❞  he  mums  into  the  fabric,  over  the  aching  length  it  still  covers,  before  reaching  up  to  pull  the  waistband  down.  expertly  dodging  getting  slapped  in  the  face  by  the  appendage,  he's  still  filthy,  butting  his  cheek  up  against  the  side  of  silver  piercings  and  mouthing  along  them,  only  to  pull  a  way  with  a  wet  slurp.  ❝ don't  you  have- ❞  four  fingers  wrap  around  that  cock,  dangerous,  and  stroke  him,  ❝ -  a  meeting  with  your  little  hero  contact  in  an  hour? ❞  he  punctuates  the  statement  with  another  dip  of  his  tongue  across  the  cockhead,  before  removing  his  hand  to  let  it  rest  against  his  cheek  again,  while  he  offers  dabi  a  wicked  grin.  ❝ better  finish  your  level  if  you  wanna  get  off...  or  maybe...  we  should  invite  him  to  play  too? ❞

Something  about  satisfying  that  morbid,  inconsolable  need  to  court  death  with  reckless  abandon  made  burying  his  fingers  beneath  the  jutting  ribs  of  Shigaraki’s  chest  and  hollowing  out  his  insides  to  make  room  for  himself  utterly  euphoric.  Dabi,  as  someone  who  employed  only  irreverence  in  his  day  -  to  day  became  devoutly  religious  when  lurching  across  that  threshold  and  into  oblivion.  To  fuck  the  nonpareil   leader  of  their  marching  ,   aerate   legion  of  losers,  washed  up  nobodies  and  grudge-bearing  youths  was  the  highest  honour  he  could  have  received.  being  god's  favorite -  or  something  akin  to  that.

It  made  him  want  to  dismantle  it  all,  to  take  a  long,  theatrical  step  back  and  observe  with  an  expression  of  sobriety  all  that  they  had  accomplished.  He  wondered,  would  he  feel  so  utterly  satiated  if  it  were  the  thin,  delicate  bones  housing  the  vindictive  soul  of  their  leader  that  became  his  funeral  pyre  if  he  might  ascend  to  some  holier -  than -  thou  level  of  rapture.  It  really  wasn’t  that  important  in  the  wake  of  things,  the  corollary  of  that  high  was  that  afterwards  ?  he  realized  he  wasn’t  quite  that  religious  after  all.   post  nut  clarity  had  a  way  of  really  convincing  a  guy  he  was,  for  a  transient  blip  in  time,  in  the  presence  of  an  ethereal  being  but  when  he  blinks,  inert  and  bored,  the  grey  returned  to  the  room  and  they  were  just  themselves  again.   vacillating  between  godhood  and  destitute  villain  really  was  a  strange  dichotomy.  He  allows  Shigaraki  to  settle  in,  much  like  a  capricious  feline,  the  slovenly  mess  of  his  hair  tickling  the  tip  of  his  nose.  he  scrunched  up  his  face.

❝   isn’t  this  going  what  y’ask  ?  i  didn’t  say  get  fucked,  do  it  yourself  you  useless  cripple,  did  i  ?  ❞   his  retort  lacked  any  actual  vitriol,  if  anything  he’s  rather  docile  as  those  svelte,  expert  fingers  guide  him  through  the  level  with  the  honed  focus  of  a  trained  sniper.  watching  the  strange,  gangly  elf-kid  prance  about  the  screen  really  didn’t   gratify  him  in  the  least  but  the  eerie,  quiet  focus  of  a  gamer  turned  killer  was  not  something  to  take  lightly.   under  his  precise  tutelage  he  lasted  quite  a  bit  longer  than  he  thought  he  would,  not  really  a  victory  but  also  not  an  ignominious  defeat  either  -   he’ll  take  that.  ❝  i’d  say  yer  wastin’  all  your  talent  being  a  big -  shot  villain,  could’a  taken  the  easy  road,  became  a  real  next  level  gamer.  ❞   it  was  impossible  to  say  if  his  sentiment  was  genuine,  when  Dabi  spoke,  no  matter  the  tone  his  voice  took,  it  was  equal  opportunity  to  be  sarcastic  or  profoundly  sincere.  He  left  it  in  Shigaraki’s  hands  to  decide  which  side  of  the  coin  he  was  running  his  calloused  thumb  over,  this  was  all  his  game  after  all.

Then  he  tilts  his  head  back,  the  cut  of  his  pupils  seem  to  sharpen,  the  red  belligerent  and  the  colour  of  blood,  it  makes  something  foul  inside  him  stir,  like  walking  barefoot  across  smoldering  coals  and  savoring  the  excruciating  agony  of  it.  There  was  something  unbelievably  fucked  up  with  him -  something  that  was  only  exacerbated  when  the  two  of  them  were  in  such  close  proximity.   ❝  a  reward,  huh  ?   ❞  his  breath  grows  short ,  immediately   betraying  his  keen  interest,  his  tongue  passes  across  his  bottom  lip  revealing  the  glinting,  metal  bar  that  pierced  through  it.   The  ethereal  vision  of  Shigaraki  on  his  knees  had  already  embossed  itself  behind  his  eye-lids,  he  was  more  than  prepared  to  commit  to  this  endeavor  for  the  sake  of   burying  his  cock  in  him  a  second  time  that  evening.  ❝  just  this  one  boss -  don’t  go  making  it  too  easy  on  me  will  ya ? ❞  

[princess-of-the-corner]

I finally remembered what I wanted to ask earlier. Do you have a master list for the BNHA monster au? Like, the people and their monster type?

I know I have but fuck it let's make a masterpost for it and actually tag it this time!

Note that some of these may be subject to change!

So! Overall, the AU is a No Quirks AU(which leads to some relationship shifts). The creatures and Magic they have replaces their Quirks, so a lot of their species are based on their Quirk, but some I went for 'vibes' rather than Quirk-based.

Let's address the first ones that need context rather than just a 'X is Y' first:

Izuku, AfO, and Shigaraki - AfO is a powerful Fae. Izuku and Shigaraki are part of a Changeling Child deal. AfO created a fae child to trade so that he could take Tenko. The fae child ended up not staying where he was supposed to, and was taken in by Inko and named 'Izuku'. This will lead to complications later. Tenko was renamed like in canon, and grew up as a Fae, while Izuku grew up thinking he was Human.

One for All users - OfA is a old and powerful Fae Deal between users, powerful enough to turn the user Fae. Yoichi was a Fae in the first place, and users 2-7 were Witches(Humans who could use Magic) where All Might had no Magic whatsoever before his Deal with Nana. All of them turned Fae. All Might and Izuku make a new Deal, intending to turn Izuku Fae, but he already is so it just re-awakens his dormant powers.

The Todoroki Family - Just fuckin. How could I not do the Demon/Angel hybrid combo? It matches Canon's Fire/Ice thing. So Enji is a Demon, Rei is an Angel. All of the kids have mixed traits and powers corresponding to Canon's Fire/Ice.

Okay! Now I can get to the 'X is Y' list!

Katsuki - Werewolf (newly bitten)

Ochako - Bakeneko

Kirishima - Dragon (look just. Look at the canon-ish fantasy thing going on)

Mina - Slime girl

Denki - Frankenstein Monster

Iida - Pegasus

Tsu - Naiad(river nymph, frog-features still)

Sero - Arachne(spidertaur)

Momo - Selkie(Bear-Variant)

Jiro - Witch(Bard)

Fumikage - Harpy

Eimi(Dark Shadow) - Living Shadow(think Peter Pan)

Hagakure - Ghost

Koda - Gargoyle

Ojiro - Tsukumogami

Sato - Witch(Potion maker)

Shoji - Merfolk(Kraken Variant)

Aoyama - ????

Himiko - Shapeshifter-variant Changeling afflicted with Vampirism.

Shinso - Siren

Tetsutetsu - Dragon

Pony - Unicorn

Mei - Gremlin(the irony)

Aizawa - Gorgon

Present Mic - Banshee

Midnight - Incubus/Succubus (will be using the neutral term 'concubus')

Vlad King - Vampire (come on.)

Nezu - Former Witch's Familiar turned Sapient

Eri - Kirin(Unicorn/Dragon hybrid)

Hawks - I need to think of a species name but basically a Cupid type, but now has the job of Grim Reaper

Lady Nagant - Witch(Necromancer), former Grim Reaper