#something something sometimes a monster is still a monster even when you love him. even when he loves you back as well something

[junkissed]

monster

member — incubus!cheol x f reader genre — smut, supernatural (demon), pwp word count — 2.2k synopsis — who said you aren't allowed to fuck your sleep paralysis demon? warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, monster cock!cheol, mean dom!cheol, masturbation (reader), messy blowjob, rough throat fucking, throat bulge kink, choking/breathplay, dacryphilia, some degredation and praise, a little humiliation, throat training (kinda), cum in mouth, sooooo much cum, cheol is a demon both metaphorically and literally, cheol has a tail and uses it for kinky purposes, objectification (of reader), nicknames (darling, sweetheart, slut, good girl, toy, etc.), implied established relationship ? (this is not their first time together) notes — thanks to @multi-kpop-fanfics @kwanisms for help brainstorming the demon part and @cheolism @onlymingyus @beomcoups for proofreading !! i really wanted to put out one more spooky fic before december hehe. if you enjoyed this fic, please remember to reblog!! it's super important for sharing my work and it lets me know this is something people wanna see more of :)

“darling, now what did i tell you about touching yourself without me?”

you startle at the sudden low voice whispering in your ear, and your cheeks grow hot as you sit up straighter on the bed. your skin prickles with the sudden feeling of being watched, tingling almost in excitement. 

you already know who it is even before his figure fades into visibility. his face still obscured in shadow and your room is dark, illuminated by nothing but the faint gleam of the moon shining in through your window. even so, you know his piercing eyes can see through the dark when yours can't. 

he looks different each time he arrives. sometimes it’s the long blond hair, slicked back with gel and a single strand falling across his forehead. sometimes it’s the black hair, shaved close on the sides with half of it tied back in a bun. but the red that he wears tonight has always been your favorite: a bright, unnaturally glowing shade that seems to match his fiery personality.

that’s how he appears to you now, dressed in his usual purple suit, the deep neckline showing off the muscles in his broad chest and his tail curled in a relaxed coil around his leg. a thick silver chain hangs around his neck and instinctively you shiver at the sight of it, the memory of it seared into your skin from all the times he's held you down rough and fast and let it drag across your back, just the way you like it.

“you were expecting me, weren’t you?” he murmurs. his voice is warm and deep like a pool of water, and each time you hear it, it only makes you want to jump deeper and deeper into him.

“m-maybe,” you manage breathlessly, though both of you know it’s so obviously a lie.

he laughs, but his tone isn’t humorous. you can practically see the smirk in his voice even without being able to see his face. “of course you were. or else you wouldn’t be sitting there, soaking through your panties and thinking about me like the depraved little slut you are. isn’t that right, sweetheart?” 

the bedroom suddenly brightens with a warm orange glow, as if lit by a candle, except there's nothing there. cheol finally steps out of the shadows, allowing you to see all of him. the look on his face radiates condescension, yet it only makes the heat between your legs burn hotter. 

you don't give him an answer to his question, and he doesn't pry for one. that's how this usually goes; you both know exactly what the other is here for anyway. once you're sure he's watching, you slowly pull your fingers from your cunt and keep your legs spread to reveal your glistening, sticky arousal that he loves so much, and that's enough of an answer to keep him satisfied for now. he doesn't react, but you can tell he's enjoying the sight from the way his eyes begin to glow a deep, hungry red.

you get up off the bed and start to move towards him, but he vanishes. a laugh sounds from behind you, and you whip around to see him sitting where you had been on the bed.

cheol spreads his thighs apart, leaning back against the headboard of your bed, and you take it as an invitation to move back towards him. you're already starting to feel the neediness returning, the empty feeling only heightened by his presence.

you try to sit down but his hand catches your arm, wrapped around your wrist to keep you at a distance.

“ah ah ah,” he scolds, holding back a laugh at your pout of confusion. “you already had your turn. if you behave for me, then i might consider giving you something in return.”

you nod quickly, and he smirks, directing you to kneel between his thighs instead. “mm… my good girl, always so eager.” 

he leans closer to you and fists his hand through your hair, his fingers tangling in your hair to pull you up and force your head to be level with his. he whispers against your cheek and it raises goosebumps on your skin, his eyes dark and narrowed as he bares his teeth with a grin. “i think you might just be one of my favorites, you know? such a cute little thing you are.”

he lets go of your hair and you reposition yourself to lay as comfortably as you can, now face to face with his cock as he pushes away his pants. you may be one of his favorites, but he's also one of yours. the first time he appeared was the last time you slept with a human man, and as long as you have him you'll never want to again. there's no desire for the mediocre hookups of the past when you have the devil's right hand man using his hands on you. seungcheol fits in all the right places, in all the right ways, and each time with him is even more satisfying than the last.

you tentatively wrap your hand around the base of his cock, trying to guide him into your mouth. this part never gets easier on you, but it's well worth it for the pleasure he gives you in return. 

“relax, sweetheart,” he coos as you slide your lips further down. “you're so tense. you want to take it all, don't you? breathe through your nose, you know the drill.”

to anyone else his words might sound kind, but you know the way he's teasing you is anything but kind. you whimper and try to follow his direction, forcing your jaw to go slack as you try to fit more down your throat. slowly but surely you manage to take him into your mouth, but your lips still only reach halfway down his length.

he pushes his hips up into your mouth once he's given you a moment to adjust, an experimental thrust to see if you're ready. you choke a little and let out a gagging sound, your eyes instantly starting to water as he hits the back of your throat. but you don't tell him to stop, and he doesn't stop.

you keep trying to relax your jaw, letting the length of his cock slide against your tongue with wet, messy noises.

cheol's tail wraps itself around your neck and you stifle a strangled gasp in surprise. his cock is so far down your throat it’s already almost hard to breathe, but the added pressure as he chokes you makes it even harder. you're lightheaded from the feeling but not enough to hurt, teetering on the line between pleasure and pain. 

“you look absolutely pathetic, darling,” he says, a low groan rumbling deep in his chest. “so gorgeous.”

your arms are shaking from holding yourself up on your elbows, but his praise is what keeps you going, choking back a whimper as you take his cock further down your throat. your vision blurs around the edges, but you can feel the spit dribbling from your mouth as it runs down his length. he makes it impossible to focus on anything besides the bruising pace of his cock.

cheol coos in fake sympathy, his tail coiling just a little tighter around your neck. “aw, poor thing. is it too difficult for you, sweetheart? you're trying so hard to be good for me. just relax.”

at this angle he can't see it, but he can feel the way your throat bulges around his length. he can feel the ridges of your throat tightening around his cock with each labored breath you take, barely enough room to allow air into your lungs. if you were in a different position he'd be able to see the faint outline of his cock stretching your throat, expanding and contracting as you struggle to meet his thrusts.

“you're loving this, aren't you? i can tell. i can smell it.” he inhales deeply through his nostrils, as if to prove his point. “ahh. like cinnamon, and… peaches. i can practically taste you from here, my darling. so sweet…”

if your mouth weren't so full and you could speak properly right now, you'd probably be whining seungcheol's name and begging for more. no matter how many times he tells you to forget him, he always ends up back in your bed like this. maybe he really does have a favorite.

he groans and rolls his neck back, his skin flushed red as he looks down at you. fuck, what a sight: your pretty little ass up in the air and your lips stretched around him, looking up at him with pleading eyes filled with tears.

cheol lets out another laugh, his voice just a little strained as he teases you. “if you hadn't already soaked through your cute little panties before i got here, then i'd bet they definitely are by now.”

you choke a little around him, caught off guard by his words, but he's not wrong. you wiggle your hips involuntarily, trying your best to hold still but it's hard to stay focused. your head is fuzzy and your senses are overwhelmed, your throat burning with friction both inside and out.

your grip starts to loosen around the base of his cock but seungcheol just tsks and repeats your name, his tail squeezing once to get your attention. “use your hands, darling, you have them for a reason. now just stay still, relax for me.” he flashes you a grin. “don't want to hurt my favorite toy, of course.”

his thrusts into your mouth grow more hurried, shoving his cock down your throat faster and sloppier with each snap of his hips. the force of his movements is unnaturally strong, and although you know by now that he's right on the edge, he barely looks like he's breaking a sweat. 

he finally releases with a deep groan, spilling down your throat and flooding your mouth. his thrusts don't stop, only slowing down a fraction as he tilts his head back, letting out another satisfied moan.

you know better than to stop without cheol's permission, so you hold your head in place and try to keep up with him. your eyes are brimming with tears as you struggle not to choke, and finally the hot, wet drops spill over and roll down your cheeks from the intense amount of energy it's taking to stay still.

all you can do is focus again on breathing through your nose and swallowing all of his cum that you can. unlike other men you've been with, you're not repulsed by the taste of him, and swallowing would be easy if there weren't so much of it. even when he should be finished he still keeps going, his tip pulsating against your tongue with each spurt.

just when you think you can't hold it any longer, the pressure on your neck suddenly releases and seungcheol uncurls his tail from around your neck. you pull your head away from his cock, gasping and stuttering, and you vaguely register cheol's fingers beneath your chin to support your head, your jaw aching from being held stretched open for so long. 

“mm, there you go. deep breaths, now.”

seungcheol chuckles as if he’s pleased at the sight of you. his tail lifts to wipe the tears from your cheeks, then some of the drool and spit and cum from the corner of your mouth, and you exhale a shallow, shaky breath.

“are you done for tonight? or…” he hums once he's given you a moment to recover, but although his words are kind again, there's no sympathy in his tone. he caresses your cheek gently with his thumb, his crimson red eyes sparkling as he looks down at you.

“… you think you can take more?”

your eyes are heavy and lidded, feeling like all your energy has been zapped from you, but somehow you're still insatiable. there's an itch that you can never quite scratch, feelings that only seungcheol can make you feel, and the promise of that satisfaction is enough to keep you sated and happy for decades.

“more,” you stammer, still catching your breath, but your eyes are fixed on his. “p-please, i can take it.”

cheol's smile widens, revealing his gleaming white teeth, although he'd already known what your answer would be. “oh, i know you can. such an obedient thing you are, always so ready to please and be pleased. you want more, hm?”

you nods quickly as you can manage, your neck still aching a little. that's how he always leaves you: a ruined mess, exhausted and sore, yet you'd still jump on the chance for another round if he offered. and he always does.

before you can blink he flips you onto your back, disappearing almost like magic and reappearing at the end of the bed to kneel between your legs. his thick cock rests against your stomach, still just as hard as before, and the weight of him on top of you already has you shivering with excitement.

“you’ve been such a good girl for me, darling. i think you deserve a little reward for taking my cock so well.” he grins as he traces his fingers down your body, his hands finding your hips as his grip tightens. “you get to take it again.”

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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[invinciblerodent]

While I'm on the topic of being hopelessly in my feelings about these characters, I just finished the last part of the Gloom Howler quest, and I'm thinking about Davrin and names at the moment.

I really, really love how, once we learn the truth about her, Davrin seems to make a point of always referring to Isseya by her name (mostly on its own, but sometimes in conjunction with calling her "The Gloom Howler" when necessary), and even correcting others who would refer to her only by the latter name. (Which, honestly, both Solas and the Inquisitor could also talk at length about a title that all but replaces your name- it definitely feels significant that Davrin would pointedly reject the thought of doing that to someone, but I digress.)

And that reminded me of how I previously made an idle, kind of shitposty little post about how nice I found that during his recruitment mission, Davrin calls out the specific names of each griffon if you interact with their cages, and he attempts to comfort them like that- by reminding them who they are, that he's there, and promising that he'll be back for them.

In retrospect, I think that's so interesting, how his core story seems to boil in part down to... well, in part to the burden of duty, the questioning of tradition and authority (he questions both Dalish- and Warden traditions from very early on, one by joining the Wardens and the other by joining Rook) and, yes, living past what one thought to be their purpose, but also... to these moments, that invite some contrasting of his elven-, and his Grey Warden identities.

Isseya being an elven Warden is a very direct parallel, and a very clear image- it, I think, is meant to show what happens when authority goes unquestioned, and one side (the Warden) triumphs over the other (the person). His uncle then acts as a counterpoint and a thread of connection to the past- he shows what happens when tradition goes unquestioned, and while peaceful, how that existence is not one Davrin wishes for himself.

This all comes to a head in the final choice concerning the griffons... which, I can't say what a "correct" choice is, but I find it really cool how one option embraces a more rigid tradition and acts as a vow for reforms within them, honoring them, while the other embraces a different tradition, one born of fluidity, choice, and change- a more personal freedom.

Purpose and nature, respect for the past and hope for the future, all strain against each other sometimes (in multiple companions' stories, I feel), and it's often a name that represents the complicated harmony between two halves.

Be that Assan, noble descendant of a hero Warden's griffon wearing an Elvish name, Isseya, the monster and mage brought to peace, the idea of "turlum", harmony and understanding forged between vastly different minds, or just... Davrin, the Dalish Grey Warden, who is not more one than the other.

Maybe that's why calling people (and animals, and feelings) by their proper names seems so casually important to him. Because if you give something complex, messy, and muddled up a name, it's easier to just live it.

(.......... and yeah, that makes it a bit ironic how so far he's been calling Rook, "Rook", but, yknow, technological limitations. I've a feeling I've at least one important scene to go still, but honestly, the name "Rook" does also kind of represent a similarly complex matrix of ideas condensed into a person. It could be that "Rook" feels more accurate than any "friend", or "love", or "boss", or even "vhenan", for what they are to him, or it could be that he's still looking for the right name, but either way, I'm looking forward to seeing how it all ends.)

[andaniellight]

Astra inclinant sed non obligant ("The stars incline, but not to bind us.")

Literally quite Not Normal after finishing @petrachord 's tragic fic of these two

[fiftypiercings]

I shouldn't be the only one who thinks orv and gintama are alike...

[lususnatura]

🎤 🎤 🎤

a song that i associate with my muse meme!

AHH, hey, ramone!! thank you for sending in this prompt :D since you sent in three of the mic's, i shall now be treating you to three songs that make me think of blamore when i hear them / that i associate with it. an explanation of why i chose them will be in the tags <3

hozier - who we are.

icehouse - crazy.

depeche mode - personal jesus.

[tofixtheshadows]

I've been thinking a lot lately about how Kabru deprives himself.

Kabru as a character is intertwined with the idea that sometimes we have to sacrifice the needs of the few for the good of the many. He ultimately subverts this first by sabotaging the Canaries and then by letting Laios go, but in practice he's already been living a life of self-sacrifice.

Saving people, and learning the secrets of the dungeons to seal them, are what's important. Not his own comforts. Not his own desires. He forces them down until he doesn't know they're there, until one of them has to come spilling out during the confession in chapter 76.

Specifically, I think it's very significant, in a story about food and all that it entails, that Kabru is rarely shown eating. He's the deuteragonist of Dungeon Meshi, the cooking manga, but while meals are the anchoring points of Laios's journey, given loving focus, for Kabru, they're ... not.

I'm sure he eats during dungeon expeditions, in the routine way that adventurers must when they sit down to camp. But on the surface, you get the idea that Kabru spends most of his time doing his self-assigned dungeon-related tasks: meeting with people, studying them, putting together that evidence board, researching the dungeon, god knows what else. Feeding himself is secondary.

He's introduced during a meal, eating at a restaurant, just to set up the contrast between his party and Laios's. And it's the last normal meal we see him eating until the communal ending feast (if you consider Falin's dragon parts normal).

First, we get this:

Kabru's response here is such a non-answer, it strongly implies to me that he wasn't thinking about it until Rin brought it up. That he might not even be feeling the hunger signals that he logically knew he should.

They sit down to eat, but Kabru is never drawn reaching for food or eating it like the rest of his party. He only drinks.

It's possible this means nothing, that we can just assume he's putting food in his mouth off-panel, but again, this entire manga is about food. Cooking it, eating it, appreciating it, taking pleasure in it, grounding yourself in the necessary routine of it and affirming your right to live by consuming it. It's given such a huge focus.

We don't see him eat again until the harpy egg.

What a significant question for the protagonist to ask his foil in this story about eating! Aren't you hungry? Aren't you, Kabru?

He was revived only minutes ago after a violent encounter. And then he chokes down food that causes him further harm by triggering him, all because he's so determined to stay in Laios's good graces.

In his flashback, we see Milsiril trying to spoon-feed young Kabru cake that we know he doesn't like. He doesn't want to eat: he wants to be training.

Then with Mithrun, we see him eating the least-monstery monster food he can get his hands on, for the sake of survival- walking mushroom, barometz, an egg. The barometz is his first chance to make something like an a real meal, and he actually seems excited about it because he wants to replicate a lamb dish his mother used to make him!

...but he doesn't get to enjoy it like he wanted to.

Then, when all the Canaries are eating field rations ... Kabru still isn't shown eating. He's only shown giving food to Mithrun.

And of course the next time he eats is the bavarois, which for his sake is at least plant based ... but he still has to use a coping mechanism to get through it.

I don't think Kabru does this all on purpose. I think Kui does this all on purpose. Kabru's Post Traumatic Stress Disorder should be understood as informing his character just as much as Laios's autism informs his. It's another way that Kabru and Laios act as foils: where Laios takes pleasure in meals and approaches food with the excitement of discovery, Kabru's experiences with eating are tainted by his trauma. Laios indulges; Kabru denies himself. Laios is shown enjoying food, Kabru is shown struggling with it.

And I can very easily imagine a reason why Kabru might have a subconscious aversion towards eating.

Meals are the privilege of the living.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Sometimes you often forgot just how big Jason was in terms of physicality.

He was like a towering monster whose shadow could encase you but it was warm, protective and secure, leaving you feeling like the most safest person in Gotham.

You often forgot how big his hands were until his callouses were pressed against the back of your hand, hiding yours completely from sight as he closed his hand fully enveloped yours whole, keeping them warm from the cold that he knew you had a love/hate relationship with.

You forgot how effortlessly you could burrow yourself into his broad back, big enough to hide yourself behind whenever you felt fear, or just needed to be close to Jason in order to feel something in general as you nuzzled your face between his shoulder blades and hearing his strong heart beat that grounded you from just about anything.

You could hide away behind him and no one would be none the wiser until Jason stepped to the side, which he never did as he always assumed his position as your wall rather seriously, too stubborn to move for anyone who wasn’t you.

Jason has the physique that is told in Greek mythology, his hands were strong, his thighs were sturdy and powerful as his back and chest were nothing to scoff at either. He was beautiful with all his scars and callouses, for he was the most beautiful man to you who never failed to read chapters from his book to help you sleep, all the while he cradled your form against his larger one.

You often forget about Jason’s physical stature because it didn’t matter to you how big he was, or how strong he was because at the end of the day he was your Jason, he was the man you loved so dearly as you kissed his scars tenderly and caressed his callouses with softness as though you’ll hurt him somehow if you pressed too hard.

He was a giant teddy bear with you and you could only see the sweet, literature dork of a man who holds you close to his chest as though you were his personal teddy bear. His stature and physique didn’t frighten you, it reassured you and comforted you in more ways than one.

You forgot about his physique when his personality shone brighter for you to pay more attention to, his big strong arms that held you from behind, pulling you to his chest were merely a bonus as you snuggled into his neck and pressed kisses to under his jaw and making him hum in content. He was your sweet jay bird who always put you first no matter what, his unwavering loyalty left no room for insecurity or doubt within your relationship as you had found the perfect man in Jason Todd.

A man with flaws and errors of the past etched into his skin, but to you he couldn’t be more perfect as he smiled and laughed with you while keeping you close to him, as though afraid you’ll disappear but you’re more then willing to cling on to him in return…even if your hands don’t meet when returning his embrace in due to how big he was in general.

Yet still he was your precious Jason who was perfectly imperfect in your eyes, his towering and intimidating stature was merely a bonus to the awkward but endearing man that laid beneath.

[silkythewriter]

Vox and alastor with an undeserving to be in hell reader!

Warnings!:non!

Fandom!: Hazbin hotel!

Author note!;I THINK TUMBLER ACTUALLY HATES ME (ﾒ﹏ﾒ)(｡•́︿•̀｡)it keeps not letting me edit my drafts, it’s happened like 3 times already this week alone!,…BUT ANYWAY I LOVE THIS IDEA I REALLY HOPE YOY ENJOY!!!!♡´･ᴗ･`♡

Summary!: alastor and Vox x reader WHOs I. Hell for a minor sin/crime

❤️Written by silkythewriter do not steal or repost any other platform please! <3❤️

ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ

“Each time I find myself

Flat on my face

I pick myself up and get back in the race!”

ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ

!📺✨Vox✨📺!

When you first admitted what you did that counted as a “sin” he was flabbergasted! He thought they must’ve made a mistake. All be it one that was in favor since he got to be damned with you. But still!

Out of every monster known to man kind one who’ve committed acts that are despicable. You, one who can barely hurt a damn fly get sent with them?

At first he thought you were genuinely just joking. And he actually laughed! Like audible chuckled before waiting for the actual reason, which never came, and he soon realized you were being serious!

He always questioned why you use to refuse to kill, or at least scare people into respect. But then you explained how you refused to be like the rest of the sinners.

He utterly dumb founded you made it this far without spilling a bit of blood, at least for survival!

He becomes more overprotective as if he wasn’t before, good luck with that!

Cause now he knows your rules, he knows you won’t budge. Nothing would get you to change your mind. So he made sure to keep eyes on you 24/7, you may be nice, but the other sinners in this damned place definitely aren’t. And he knows that from experience

Would neither confirm or deny he put a small tracker in an item you carry every where.

This man has enemy’s as you’ve seen, demons, overlords, rival company’s, it’s a headache an a half for him. Not that he hates protecting you and your values! No never!, but the nerve of the people who think they even have a chance to lay a hand on you.

Gives you the lastest phone from his series, and yes he will text you and blow up ur phone up if he can see you through cameras around the city.

Even if you put it on silent he wouldn’t put behind himself to over load it and just show up on your phone screen.

Sometimes he’s just so confused how you can be so nice, or at worst passive to those who are poking at you. He thinks your a saint, even if you aren’t, an maybe you have a short temper still the way you hold yourself form blowing up is astonishing!

Sometimes he jokes about how if you were to go to Charlie you would be redeemed in a day. And at night sometimes he thinks about it and it scares him to know there’s a possibility for you to go where he will probably never be able to follow you too

He loves you to the depths and the crooks of hell, and he’ll be damned again if he lets anyone hurt you. He sees you as a small soft light in the red cover world, and he will do anything before anyone can put out that light.

He makes sure to keep a good distance between you and Val, a BIG distance.

He’s always on the edge about people around you, how can’t he? He can’t trust all these “disgusting and repulsive” sinners in hell around you. The thought alone cringes him out and stresses him.

He knows to some degree he isn’t exactly better then them sin wise, but he makes sure to do his best for you while infornt of you, he cares about his image, and wouldn’t be afraid to scare someone into discipline. BUT he will tone it down, just for you ♥(⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝)♥

He has you under wraps, from the public eye in this case. As much as he’s one to show off his earnings, he loves you a little to much and knows well people will use you as a advantage. He loves to show off but you something just for him behind close doors for now before he can work something out

NOW if the public were to already know, he show off by showing how untouchable you were, demons knew better to approach you seeing as how fast he is to get rid of those stupid enough to try something.

Overall he respects your morals of not wanting to stoop as low as other sinners. But it dose make him more protective of you, your like a rare gem. There’s only a handful of people like you, and even then the numbers decrees daily, so he dose his most to make sure you safe and happy <3

ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ

!🎙️✨Alastor✨🎙️!

Like Vix he humors it at first! Playing around with it before Laughing with his usual staticky voice as he stared at you with his unnerving smile. You guys quite literally stared at each other for a hot minute waiting for the other to say something.

It took you clearing your throat for him to realize you weren’t just trying to get a chuckle outta him.

And for the first time since you met him you caught a hint of confusion, making you explain that it was genuinely what you did.

He quite literally burst out laughing, you, someone who probably did something everyone did once is in this horrid place stuck with the horrid monsters ever! Just for that single act alone.

He will admit he found it a bit amusing how you refused to kill or lay a hand on anyone. Refusing to stoop to other people’s levels. Now that for him is pure gold of entreatment! He’s seen people like you, say the same exact thing then crumble when backed I to a Corner.

But for the first time, for all the decades he’s been damned here, he’s seen you stick to what you’ve stated. You were very much quite a spectacle!

Now finding new amusement, he decided to protect you, cause someone like you were sure to be a one time experience. Aside from loving you of course

Now with your name being accosted with him alone is a shield in if its self. Barely any one approached you, aside from those playing with their afterlives of course.

If you ever feel a looming shadow or presence it’s most likely one of his shadows. Like Vox he is gonna have his eyes on you almost always

Although he loves you he will play around to get a reaction out of you. All for the fun of it!, he knows you cringe when he talks about his cannibalism tendencies he just loves seeing your cute little face scrunch up!

Even though with all of that he is a gentleman and will make sure no one is to bother you.

He’s quite impressed you made it this far without getting killed, I mean of course you have him but if you arrived to hell and didn’t met him immediately he’d be quite impressed and surprised one you both do meet

He indulges himself in the horrible aspects of hell, with no remorse or shame what so ever either. So although he dose respect your wishes he won’t stop or calm down his tendencies.. （；へ：）but on the bright side he’ll make sure your far away or he goes off to other part of the city and do whatever he wishes. But your likely to see on the news either way… (￣▽￣💧

He dose enjoy the more civil and nice talks he has with you though! He finds it nice to take a break from all the crude talk on the street from other sinners and have a nice conversation!

Great listener let me tell you, he’ll happily sit there as you explain your day away! He honestly enjoys hearing you genuinely happy!, although his a chatter box himself but he enjoys listening to you more then anyone or anything else!

Watches you be nice to the most repulsive, and rude demon like it’s nothing. Even when disrespected you find a way to calm down the situation and nicely at that. Of course the demon doesn’t live long once their out of your sight, but still! He’s pleasantly surprised.

He finds it rather weird that your nice just for the sake of being nice but still it’s definitely a nice refresher from all the horrible people down in hell!

You catch his eye rather quickly with how you stick out from others (in a good way! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ) and his eyes end up on you, you mainly have all his attention almost always if he isn’t off doing something!, your his light just live Vox he’ll make sure you’ll shine bright as ever and won’t go out.

Not everyone can catch it but in some rare moments he’ll be seen just staring at you as you happily talk away to Charlie. And for the smallest second you can see his unnerving smile turn into a soft smirk, eyes only on you and his mind filled with only you. This happens on the regular, it’s just he’s quick to cover up so no one sees!

Overall he loves you, even with some differences between your views he’ll still do his best to make you comfortable. Aside from teasing you here and there! But other then that he’ll protect you, your one of kind. And he loves having things no one else can.

ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ

AHHHH HELLOOOOO OH GORSH I MADE IT JUST IN TIME THIS TOOK SO LOBG TO DO CAUSE I KEPT HAVING TO DELETE AND REWRITE ON A NEW DRAFT AUGHHH I HOPE TUMBLR FIXES THIS BUG, BUT ANYWAY TYSM FOR REQUESTING PLEASE COME AGAIN!!!\(^ヮ^)/’

[slytherinslut0]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 4th — virginity loss / corruption kink.

PART ONE | kinktober masterlist. | 2024.

pairing: mattheo riddle x berkshires!sister

summary: mattheo’s conscience can only hold him back for so long.

warnings: 18+, hogwarts uni (putting this even tho it’s obvious), jealous mattheo, flirting, tension tension tension, “we can’t do this” type of vibe, “your brother is right over there” type of vibe. bestfriends lil sister trope. part one of two.

Morality—what is it, really? How is it measured? Is it a linear scale? Could someone be morally sound yet sometimes make an exception when the situation called for it?

Perhaps it's subjective. Anything that falls outside of the law, that is.

Mattheo forced a breath from his lungs, the drink in his hand was tasteless, some watered-down excuse for a cocktail. But that didn't matter, not really—what mattered was the way you kept laughing, the way your hand lingered a second too long on that random bastard's sleeve. The sight made something concerning coil tight in his chest, but he stayed where he was, back against the wall, sucking down drinks like he'd been tasked to it.

God, this was stupid. Morality. Right and wrong. He knew the difference, of course he did. Just because he was a Riddle didn't make him a monster. Not yet, anyway. But that line, the one between you and him—the one drawn so clearly in the sand—was practically mocking him with its absolutes and daring him to cross it. Forbidden, off-limits, the one thing he shouldn't want.

His best friend's little sister. The good girl. A virgin, no less.

"Riddle—you coming?"

Mattheo's head jerked slightly, but his mind was miles away.

He waved a hand. "I'll catch up in a bit.”

Malfoy and Zabini nodded, slipping into the night, leaving him behind in the dim, crowded ballroom. Spring dance. Hours past dusk. He didn't even know why he was still there. Normally, he was long gone before the clock struck twelve, but tonight the room pulsed with bodies and the music hummed under his skin. His drink was half-forgotten in his hand, and his gaze was fixed on a group across the room.

Or, more specifically, on you.

You were standing, black dress to your mid-thighs, half-listening to boys from your year drone on about quidditch tryouts and the usual chatter that filled the space between your breaths. But your eyes—your eyes weren't on them. You were looking at him. A soft smirk tugging at the corners of your lips, like you knew something he didn't.

His heart kicked against his ribs. Where was that line again?

You winked, and he sipped his drink. He'd always said bad decisions made good stories—but even if this (unnameable thing between you) was a story worth telling, the people to hear it would be few.

The tension grew suffocating and he finally looked away. You took that as a win, but you weren't about to let the game end there—not after you noted the tense of his fingers around his cup. You excused yourself from the group, your body moving through the crowd like water, fluid and unhurried, weaving your way toward him.

You knew the line well, the one Mattheo pretended so hard to respect. Restraint wasn't his nature—it never had been, not in the decade you'd watched him take whatever he wanted without a second thought. He wasn't made for holding back, and it showed every now and then—every time his lips crashed against yours in some hidden corner, whispering confessions of how badly he wanted more, how he ached for what he couldn't have.

You loved pushing him to that point. You loved knowing how bad he wanted you. Your brother would lose his mind if he found out. But that didn't matter, not even a little. Not when Mattheo looked at you like that.

"Having fun?" He asked upon your approach, his voice a shade too flat.

"A little." You leaned against the wall beside him, close enough that he could feel the warmth of your skin, your presence seeping into the space between you. "What about you? You seem a bit...tense."

"Tense." The word came out bland, barely audible, and he took a slow sip of his drink, like he needed it just to find his voice. "Why would I be tense?"

You wet your lips, slow, deliberate, studying him with that sidelong glance that made his pulse skip. His jaw tightened, and his eyes—those beautiful, dangerous brown eyes—scanned the room with something too close to desperation.

"Good question." You tilted your head, gaze playful, curious, like you were dissecting him right there in the half-light. "Maybe it's because you've been watching me like a hawk. Like you're waiting for me to do something...wrong."

"Maybe I'm just looking out for you," he muttered, his gaze sliding to your brother across the room, lips locked with some brunette. Mattheo's eyes flickered back to you, just for a moment. "Your brother's a little...busy, after all."

You raised an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into an amused, almost wicked smile. "Ah, so that's it. You're just being my big, overprotective babysitter."

"I don't need to babysit you," he grumbled, though his gaze betrayed him, darting over to the group of boys you'd been talking to. "Just keeping an eye on the company you keep."

It was almost amusing—the way Mattheo stood there, sizing up your guy friends like they were targets in a lineup, probably mentally noting who he'd hit first if any of them dared to step out of line. He was different tonight—and you could have brushed it off, could have let that flicker of vulnerability slide, but that wasn't how this game was played. Not with him. Not with you. There was no room for naivety here.

You turned to face him now, full-on, shoulder resting against the wall as you raised a hand, fingers brushing lightly up his arm.

"Keeping an eye," you repeated as you traced the hard line of his shoulder, then down, lower, over his chest. "Ever my hero, Mattheo Riddle."

When your fingers grazed his abdomen, his breath caught and he grabbed your wrist—hard—the suddenness of it making you gasp. Then, he turned to face you, and his gaze finally met yours—really met yours—for the first time since you'd crossed the room.

"Don't." His voice was low, strained, like he was fighting himself as much as you.

Your eyes widened in mock surprise, that innocent look you'd perfected like a sport. You wore it like a halo you knew you didn't deserve.

"Don't...what?" You damn-well knew what.

His grip tightened, just enough for you to feel the heat of it, pulling you closer, so close you could feel the tension radiating off him. He wet his lips, and you melted—remembering how it felt to kiss them.

"Don't play games with me." He said. "Not tonight."

The warning was clear, but instead of pulling away—heeding his words and letting that heat simmer down—you leaned closer, defying every unspoken rule. The thrill shot up your spine, into your brain, turning everything hazy, electric. You were drunk on it.

"Why not?" Your free hand traced up his other arm and his gaze followed the movement, lips parting ever so slightly. "...afraid you'll lose?"

Before you knew what was happening, he had you spun around—so fast you barely registered the movement before your back hit the cold stone wall. His drink found the table beside him, his focus entirely on you.

"Don't to this to me. Not here," he whispered. "Your brother is right over there."

You glanced toward Enzo, still too preoccupied with the brunette to notice a thing.

"He's a little distracted, don't you think?" Your fingers on your free hand resumed their path, this time up toward his collarbone. But his other hand found them, too. You looked down. Two large hands, wrapped tight around your wrists, like he could stop the fire running through your veins if he just held on hard enough. Your thighs shook. "Gods, you really are tense tonight, aren't you?"

Mattheo's eyes narrowed, two embers gleaming in the night— his lips twitching in a way that made your pulse stutter. There was need in him now, a raw, visceral energy that vibrated between you. Untethered.

He leaned in, closer, his breath brushing against your skin. "You're impossible."

"Impossible..." you echoed, the space between you shrinking with every second. There was no choice in it. It was magnetic, inevitable. He leaned closer, and you—against all reason—matched him, drawn by a force you couldn't name. "Impossible to...resist, Matty?"

Your lips were so close, you could almost taste the flavours lingering on his breath. The heat of him drew you in like gravity, pulling you into that dangerous space where everything blurred—boundaries, rules, reason. His eyes flickered down to your mouth, his tongue darting out to wet his lips in a way that felt instinctive—

And then, the world snapped back.

Cheering—loud, raucous—followed by the sharp crack of glass splintering against the floor. It cut through the moment, pulling you both back to reality. Mattheo's gaze jerked toward the sound, and in an instant he took a step back, his hands releasing your wrists like you'd burned him—like you were the danger here, a fire he'd gotten too close to.

"We can't," he whispered, and it sliced through you. It hit harder than the crash of glass, harder than the noise around you. "You don't want this. I promise you don't."

You stared at him. You knew what he meant, what he was trying to say, the warning etched in every tense line of his body. The two of you had been over this before. You knew Mattheo Riddle was not the man who would love you, not the man who would stay, who you'd call your forever. You weren't that naive. You weren't looking for forever—you just wanted a beginning. A first. A first that would teach you the edge of desire, with someone who knew what to do.

Someone experienced.

"I do," you whispered, barely holding steady under the weight of it all—the realization that you'd almost kissed him, right here, where anyone could've seen, where your brother wasn't far. "More than anything, I do."

His jaw clenched, that flicker in his eyes darkening. He ran a hand through his hair, curls falling messily back into place, his face twisted in thought, already calculating the fallout, already seeing the inevitable consequences.

"Your brother will kill me," he muttered. "He'll kill you."

"He’s not my dad, Mattheo. I’m an adult. He doesn't have to know." The words came out firm, too firm for how fast your heart was beating. You didn't dare move closer, but the tension between you was still electric, still alive. "No one except us."

For a heartbeat, his eyes locked onto yours, and you felt it—that gravity pulling you both back to the brink. It was visible—the weight of his indecision, the way he was measuring the risk, the pull of you against the walls he was trying to keep intact. It'd been months of this. You were relentless. His scowl deepened, but he didn't pull away. He let the silence stretch, your words simmering between you like a match lit, waiting to catch fire.

And then, a nod.

Barely there, just a sharp dip of his head, almost as if he didn't want to acknowledge it himself. You couldn't tell if it was for you, or some silent permission he was giving himself, a final surrender to the pull that neither of you could fight.

"Room of Requirement," he said, vibrating with the tension that still hummed in the air. "Ten minutes."

Your stomach leapt into your throat, every bone in your body suddenly weak. After a moment that felt as though it went on forever, you nodded, and he took another step back.

"Ten minutes." You repeated.

"Ten minutes." He confirmed, before turning and heading out of the ballroom.

[sabertoothwalrus]

There’s something I love love loveeee about Laios and how badly he wants to be cool.

Let me preface with this: in general, I believe the harder you try to be cool, the less cool you actually are. The less you care what people think about you, if you’re “cringe” or “weird”, the more likely people will perceive you as confident and self-assured.

There are countless pieces of media where characters try to fit in with some group, change every part of themself to look/act like what they’re “supposed” to be, and end up miserable, often realizing the people they’re trying to impress aren’t worth the trouble.

I’ve experienced this in my own life too! Sometimes when I go out I wear a rainbow propeller cap! Cause I think it’s funny and silly and!! I ALWAYS get compliments!! I don’t wear it to be cool, I wear it because it makes me happy. And people overall have a positive reaction to it. it’s a huge contrast to when I was teenager and didn’t really put as much of myself into my appearance/wardrobe, and barely left any kind of impression on people.

So anyway, let’s get into it.

Laios… he’s been hurt so badly by people. He resented humanity for it. And yet, he still yearns for the approval of others. He wants FRIENDS!!!! and was angry and frustrated to learn his perception of his relationship with Shuro was so drastically different than Shuro’s!!!!

He KNEW that people were put-off by his love of monsters. Up until Falin got eaten, he deliberately suppressed how much he talked about it with others. He probably thought by not talking about monsters so much, it was working!! He was doing all the Right Things now! So Shuro confessing he always hated him was a huge blow.

But the reality is, he loves monsters. And most importantly, he loves cool monsters. He fantasizes about what would make the Ultimate Monster.

He feels very strongly about what he considers “cool” as well. He finds all aspects of monsters fascinating, but can still be HORRIBLY underwhelmed when they look too lame for his tastes.

He knows most people don’t feel the same way he does. He knows his “cool” is everyone else’s “weird”. It’s so tragically sweet how he latches onto Kabru the moment he shows interest in monsters, and takes every opportunity to infodump about them to him.

He wants people to find monsters as cool as he does!! But, he also wants people to think he’s as cool as he finds monsters.

Like!!! djkfghadkfjg IT DOESN'T EVEN BOTHER HIM WHEN PEOPLE HAVE A WRONG IMPRESSION OF HIM! He's FLATTERED by it. It's almost like, at this point, it doesn't matter to him if people don't like him. People can not like him and still think he's cool.

And my favorite thing is, it works. Laios IS cool as fuck. You KNOW he thought he looked so badass when he did this and he was RIGHT:

And yet, this is him trying very hard to look cool. But it's Laios's version of cool. It's almost contradictory, in that sense. Cause he knows people still don't get it. Like. He wants to be cool. He doesn't care about the "normal" ways to be cool. He thinks his cringe thing is cool. He does his cringe thing, that people very much do still think is cringe. So you would think that, since he wants people to think he's cool, he would not do the cringe thing. But he wore the pelt because he thought it was cool. And people clapped and cheered for him anyway.

is what he's doing really so different than this? ^

YAYYYYY WOOO GO LAIOS YOURE SO COOL!!!!!!!

[yeyinde]

preacher's daughter (Ethel Cain inspired) and biker Ghost would go so hard. all that corruption, religious trauma/catholic guilt, and small town gothic misery, you know?

sheltered daughter meets violence personified. the devil and the sacrificial lamb. you meet him when you wander up to the motorcycle club on the outskirts of town with a pamphlet about salvation clutched in your trembling hands. he leans his big, intimidating frame against the door jamb, and with his arms crossed over his broad chest, says must be good on your knees, aren't you, birdie?

(you answer with an earnest yes, sir, i worship on my knees everyday and pretend the heat that flares in your belly when he groans is from the too-hot sun; the first of many sins.)

later that evening, your daddy tells you that he's an honest and good man, but sometimes he prays that God strikes that vile place right down. you bite your tongue and nod, but sneak out at night and meet him there where you slip into silk lingerie and dance on stage just for him. he tells every man there that if he catches them staring at you, he'll stab them in the eyes, and you think it's the most romantic thing you'd ever heard.

it's love letters carved into the sunbleached bones of a half-submerged deer left to rot in the stagnant bog just outside of the abandoned white chapel. something watches you from the dark stained glass windows as he runs his tattooed fingers over your skin, leaving smears of gunpowder and soot.

(someone set the old man's car on fire—the who leered at you while you stood in the choir, wearing your lily white dress and sang glory be while you tried to forget what those tattooed hands felt like when they slipped under your skirt and between your thighs.

the old man was still inside—)

they call him a ghost. a demon. you call him Simon and daydream during bible study that you'll run away together. hop on the back of his old Harley and forget this place ever existed.

a daydream that quickly turns into a nightmare when your sordid relationship comes to light, and your daddy threatens to have him locked away for good. there's a gun in the safe upstairs. you think about the time Simon dragged you into the woods to shoot at cans and lose your faith under the sweltering sun when you pull the trigger.

"for us," you tell him, breathing in the dank church air ripe with sin and the stench of blood. "i did it for us."

it's leaning on the back of his Harley with your fingers threaded around his thick waist as the town grows smaller and smaller in the distance. staring up at the endless blue sky and grinning wide because you finally got your monster of a man wrapped around your finger.

(and all it took was a little deal made with the thing that lives in the abandoned church.)

[sleepy-fiction]

Gold Ring.

-sebastian solace x reader

2k words

syn: he was a married man, yet he forgets when he's with you.

tgs: fluff, sfw (read a/n), sappy, feel-good, comfort, genderless reader

A/N: guys NO hate to Zerum at all. I just liked the idea of sebastian having a wife but learning true love and self worth from you. This fic is fluff sfw, but there are very mild dirty descriptions used sometimes. MDNI

Predator eyes loom through the darkened abyss. Sweaty, slobbering, hungry for a quench. He can't fight it. He knew you before you met him. He's seen the way you huddle to yourself, the way you persisted in this hell, the way you crawl to him whenever you're scared. How you count down the floors until you can rest-- on him.

He was the first once to make a move.

You bargained to sleep in his little room, yet you laid rest so far away from him. He didn't understand the flithy, possessiveness that growled in his hungry belly. It sent a pissed shiver from the tops of his head that rattled down to his tail.

He remembers the flinch you made at the sight.

He knows that he shouldn't, but fuck he wanted you closer then. No, he wants you closer, all the time.

He never knew romance until he pulled you over to him, the way he wrapped his tail around you like a snake. The way he blew it off with his typical banter, but God help him, the way he remembers your sleeping form carrying a smile throughout your dreams. Content- about him.

Times with his wife were never like this. He didn't know he was capable of feeling such intense desire. He's kissed, held, and he's lpved on and received. It remembers how the saying goes. If you love them, then you'd let him go. He went without a fuss here, content with the idea of his wife enjoying their freedom. But God knows, the idea of you, some inmate who waltzed into his life, leaving? No, it couldn't happen.

It was the pining that eventually sold his fate.

The yearning.

He'd find rocks the colors of your eyes to collect, most likely debris scattered from all the grubby inmates swarming the place just so he could keep something of yours nearby. Whenever he heard the echoing sounds of footsteps, the crawling through his vents, he perfectly memorized your sound yet still found his heart beating in hope even when he knew it couldn't be you.

He had grown overly accustomed to your dynamic. How you acted in playful defiance but respected him and his boundaries so much. He's never met an expendable quite like you, one not pushy- touchy- or downright evil. Even in a group setting, as you sometimes venture into a teams. You're always batting those pretty little eyes at him, saying thank you and apologizing on their behalf.

You're overly aware of him. Scanning his face, always checking for his contentment.

It was cute. You were discreet like a mouse.

For some reason, you had some staring problem. Always gazing with those eyes. So full of admiration for the brutish monster he had become. Those glances certainly didn't help him. You had to be some freak to like someone like him the way he is now. What about him could ever be attractive?

Don't think he doesn't notice the way you fidget in embarrassment whenever he tucks his hair behind his ears.

You get all shy when he gets close. You get shy whenever he escalates your banter- albeit painfully teasing you- but still-- it affects you.

He affects you.

That's a sensation that makes him question his self worth, and your character.

If someone as good as you finds him lovely. Then is he really? Could he really be...

His three blue hands.

Could they ever be loveable again?

It's that question that finally makes all the symptoms that has been building over the months of you being here finally click.

God he's.

He's falling in love with you.

He swallows thick, unable to read the document before his eyes.

Ba-dum, Ba-dum, Ba-dum

His heart races in his chest, his snaggle teeth gnawing against his lip, his eyes shutting impossibly shut. His hands fidget together, and the feeling of cold metal against (what used to be) his ring finger, and guilt swells in his belly.

He's in love with you. When all this time he was working hard to return to her.

He's in love with you. He heart yearns to leave with you and Painter.

He's in love with you. He doesn't feel the same about his wife. His identity is crumbling before his very soul, and it's terrifying.

His only anchor had been his wife the entire time.

His grip goes vice over his wedding ring. A ringing hiss, and a weeping cry flees his meekly throat.

He had a decent life. A woman who loved him.

But if this feeling he's feeling right now for you is love, then...

He shakes his head, his left hand slapping over his mouth, his right still coddling the ring on his smaller hand.

He can't.

He can't think that way.

In no magical universe will he ever get to have you. You'll leave here, he can see it now. It reflects in your eyes, it's this during gleam that no other expendable has.

He'll be left here to rot.

He needs to accept that and not get--

"Sebastian?"

His blood runs cold, his body jolting upright with a fury.

Fuck. He didn't even hear you enter.

A flashlight clicks, shinning at his belly.

He sees you.

You, who always calls his name so softly. So tenderly, full of respect and admiration. You who makes him feel like a person again. You who remembers things about him, you who points lights at his belly because you remember what hurts him.

He can't stop the tear that rolls out.

"Oh no," your voice dips heartbreaking soft as you set the flashlight down, "What's wrong, Sebastian?" You approach him slowly pausing in front of him with your palms up, asking with your body, with your eyes if you could touch him.

He laughs at you. The sound croaks in bittersweetness.

He leans down to your hands, resting his face in your palms. You're so warm, it makes his heart flutter. "It looks you've caught me at a bad time," he says sing-songly.

Your eyes are full of understanding, the way you smile. "Seems so," you say, brimming to see he was okay. You're giving him space, he hates how he begins to yearn.

He can't help it when you're like this.

Sebastian strains.

"Everyone needs to cry sometimes, especially in this place. I cry, too. A lot." You whisper.

But you're still smiling.

God.

He hates you.

He giggles. The sound is so out of character, so school-girlishly giddy. "Fuck," he grimaces as he burries his cheeks into your palm. He knows he cannot physically blush anymore, but he still feels the shame.

He's turning soft.

Soft for such an airhead.

He swallows nervously, looking up to peer into your eyes. You're admiring him again. Your shifty pupils drag up and down his features again and again and again like a broken record. Holding your lips agape, and sucking in swallow breathes, as if the faintest movement from every breathing too intensely would disrupt the view.

He can't take it.

His hands shoot out for you, one on your hip, the other around your waist, the final caressing your back. You squeak as he pulls you completely into him, your feet rising from the floor. You rest your head dazily on his shoulder, as he slithers onto the dark, farther away from your abandoned light.

When you finally stopped moving, you could feel a wall behind Sebastian, as you straddled a leg on each side of his tail, your knees against the floor.

"Sebastian? I can't see you," you whine.

"You don't need to look at me..." He hushes.

Your hands find his cheeks, they're all warmed up from you.

"I need to," you lean in closer, rubbing your nose against his nostril slits. His breath shudders.

"Pull it," He whispers.

You already know as you reach and pull his antenna. A dim warm light illuminates his face, and you smile contently.

Your hands parade through his hair, tucking the strands of his hair back away from his face on both sides; the way you've seen him do many times before.

You've forced him to admit it now.

He's something worth gawking at.

Even like this.

Embarrassment is a surprisingly delicious taste for his belly.

You slide back in his arms, as his hands lean back and fall to his side. All except for his right, which cups a healthy amount of your hip to keep you steady on his tail.

Now it's his turn to admire you.

"Hmm, pretty thing," He mumbles. His smaller hand reaches up your body, his gold ring flashing in the eyes of both of you.

He tenses.

You notice. Your hands rest on his shoulders as you lean in closer to him.

"Sebastian." You blink, empathy driving your veins.

He already knows.

"I used to have a wife. Long before... This happened to me," He whispers it to the air.

Now it's your turn to feel a deep pang in your heart. You know you shouldn't say it, but the words burst out, "Did you love her?"

You watch as a strained smile pulls at him, "N-Not... Not as much as..." He swallows abruptly, "yuh... Y-You."

It all clicks for you.

He's sad over guilt?

You giggle-- and it's almost as painfully giddy as the one he let out before. But it's not enough as thr giggle turns into a laugh. The sound is bright and refreshing to his ears, like rays of forlorn sunshine kissing him. He can't help the way his ears twitch in pure glee.

He'll drink up this sound forever.

"Little cheater," you giggle into his skin as you kiss his cheeks.

He's deeply affected by this! It's not funny!

"Hey." He can't seem to reprimand you, though. "Bastard," He hushes.

You break away finally. And before you could lean in to plant more kisses, his free hands are on you again. Trailing up your body, up your chest (with him seeming to slow down a bit for that part), then to your shoulders, to roll down to your lovely hands. Lovely hands that he moves to place on his meaty chest.

"Come here," he finally commands, and it's like your knees go weak. The two of you meet in the middle, your lips melting into one another like starved animals. The way you nip and howl in between fervent friction-- friction unknown tp you both since entering this hell hole.

His kisses are filled with longing, desire, full of shivers, full of breathy moans. Sensations that send waves of shivers down to the tips of his tail.

You pull apart to suck on his bottom lip, and with a grunt, Sebastian's mouth cracks open obediently. His large tongue rolls out of his mouth and deep into yours. It's stuffiness enough to make you choke if he wasn't so careful- and if the feeling wasn't so erotic.

Your little alien.

You caress his face all over, your fingertips finding his twitching ears. You pull apart with a hearty smack of the lips, a thin trail of saliva rolling out from you from his large tongue. He picks it up before it could fall to your chin, a satisfied hum from him.

You kiss his round jaw, thumbs caressing circles into his under eyes.

"I love you," Sebastian kisses it into your skin.

"I love you too," you sigh wholeheartedly. You lean in and kiss his tiny third eye, and he hums sing-songly.

Your arms slide around his neck, burying your face into the crook of his jaw, relaxing your body deep into him with a sigh.

You two were so peaceful. You barely noticed the sagging lethal drowsiness in your veins. You haven't slept in... Haven't slept in....

Snorrreeeee...

Sebastian laughs at you. You fell right asleep, just like that? His tail wraps around you like a snake, as his kisses make themselves known to your forehead.

"Goodnight, expendable..." He snickers.

And the gold ring slips from his finger.

To have a future with the benefit of you being there, it's more than just a dream come true.

You accepted him.

He can accept himself, too.

[starkeyisthelastname]

I feel like trailer park rafe would be so mean if reader was like bratty or pouting too much for his liking about something that “isn’t a big deal”, would end with her getting stuffed and pounded into.

omg yes he would be so mean!!! get ready for the dirty talk 😵‍💫😭

“Sit your pretty ass on the couch babydoll. You don’t need to go.” Rafe grumbled, patting his worn jeans down for his truck keys. He spotted them on the coffee table and grabbed them in rough hands. “I’ll be right back. Stop fuckin’ poutin. I’m not in the mood for that shit.” He said, blue eyes looking at you as you sat with your arms crossed on the ratty couch. You didn’t care if he was just running up the road to get cigarettes, you wanted to go with him and he wasn’t letting you. You tried not to act like a brat, but sometimes you were just overly clingy with him.

“But… can I please go?” You pleaded, glossy lips pouty and thick lashes fluttering. You loved to ride in his truck and go places with him. When he shook his head, you let out a bratty huff and stomped your feet. “But whyyy?” You whined, standing up as if you were going to follow him anyway. You knew he hated attitude, but you wanted his attention and were gonna get it.

His striking eyes narrowed at you, watching your small frame look tiny in comparison to his tall height. Your pout didn’t leave, and arms were still crossed over your chest as you looked up at him as if you were trying to intimidate him. He couldn't help but let out an amused laugh, his rough hand coming up to grip your jaw. “I know I didn't fuckin’ stutter. Drop the goddamn attitude or I’ll fuck it out of you.” He spoke lowly, watching as you raised an eyebrow to challenge him. Oh weren’t you getting a little feisty with him. He definitely needed to remind you who was in charge.

“What’d I tell you about questioning me, huh? Wanna act like a fuckin’ brat when I’ll be right back.” Rafe snorted. His free hand turned you around, shoving you towards the torn couch where he made sure your face was buried in the tattered fabric. “You remember whose goddamn trailer you’re in? Think it’s cute actin’ like a brat?” He said, pulling down your cute panties underneath the pink dress you wore.

Your delicate hands held onto the scratchy material of the couch, hearing the audible zip of Rafe’s jeans being pulled down. Your poor cunt fluttered, almost regretting acting up as his two massive palms spread your fleshy ass cheeks. You barely had time to react when you felt his fat cock shove itself in your tight hole without warning. Your pretty mouth fell open in a silent moan, his huge length making your tummy clench in pleasure as he pushed himself in.

“That make you shut the fuck up? Get your hole stuffed and pounded by a big dick.” His raspy tone gritted out, reaching up to grip your hair in his fist. He used your thick locks as a rein, his toned hips slapping against your round ass as he thrusted into your creamy little cunt. He couldn’t help but watch your smaller body below him just taking his monster pipe like you had no choice since you acted the way you did.. “All because you can’t go with me down the fuckin’ road.” He scoffed, trying to hold back as his nut as you squeezed his slick cock.

You were so full, a whiny mess for a completely different reason now. You could feel that funny feeling wash over you, your flushed cheek rubbing against the couch as he continually fucked your pretty cunt from behind. You couldn’t even get any words out, Rafe quite literally pounding the brat out of you. Even if it wasn’t a complete meltdown, he still didn’t put up with any kind of drama or attitude.

“I’m gonna stuff you full slut, then make you fuckin’ sit here still and think about the next time you wanna act like a brat.” His dirty words, always making a precious moan from you echo off the trailer walls.

[dirtysvthoughts]

mafia boss! wonwoo x reader headcanons

tags/warnings: smut, female! reader, reader is shorter than wonwoo, some pwp, some worldbuilding before the smut (you know how i do), pet names (pretty girl, little one, etc.), mentions of love languages, mentions of lingerie, fingering, lots of kissing and making out, mentions of a dinner, apartment sex, kitchen sex into bedroom sex, make sure they wrap it up before you unwrap it! i’m actually highly upset i can’t have wonwoo blow my back out on a regular

author’s note: first of all, HEY BESTIES! i know i’ve been kinda silent, but i’m slowly getting back my will and motivation to write (do NOT take 3 classes during the summer). i’ve been dying to get my thoughts out on this after the lalali mv, and who knows - this may end up as a full length fic sometime soon 👀 let’s get into it!

———

-mafia boss! wonwoo whose gang started off small, and now he runs one of the largest mafia organizations in the country. he’s cunning, smart, sly, intimidating, even ruthless. those under him respect and admire him, from his vice-leader to the newer members. he strikes fear into several and he is not to be taken lightly or crossed. several groups have been eliminated with just a few words from his lips (like he said, he’s a monster).

-then enter you, his lover, whose entire lifestyle is the opposite of the one he leads. you’re just a simple office worker, but you’re fortunate enough to have some extra pleasures, like a lavish apartment and a decent social life. wonwoo has had his share of women and previous relationships, but you were different. you keep him level headed and grounded. your calm demeanor and intelligence are so very, very attractive to him. and of course, your looks and natural beauty were stunning. he’s protective of you and would prefer you rather not get involved in any of his business endeavors.

-even though he insists on not bringing you into his craziness, he wants to help you out and provide for you as much as he can. his acts of service have ranged from his captains running errands for you to even giving you large monetary gifts every few months.

smut under the cut!! minors DO NOT INTERACT FROM HERE!

-good god, sex with mafia boss! wonwoo would go two ways: rough sex with you screaming and begging for mercy or soft sex with you whimpering and moaning his name, telling you to hold your cum in until he says you can release it. either way, his dominance will be asserted.

-has multiple pet names for you, but absolutely loves calling you: “little one,” “princess,” “my darling,” and “pretty girl.”

-mafia boss! wonwoo has an OBSESSION with you in lingerie. he. can’t. get. enough. he’s bought you multiple sets, and of course has his favorites. absolutely loves it when you dress up for him, he will roam his calloused hands up and down your body, kissing your stomach as he toys with the hem of your panties.

-one of your sexual encounters was in his gang’s warehouse (before the group’s weekly meeting, so it was empty). he looked so dashing in his green gucci suit, hair pulled back into a bun - the wetness gushing in your panties making it clear you needed him. when he closes and locks the warehouse garage door, he crashes his lips onto yours while his hands grab your ass. he grunted something about missing you and how he needed to feel your tight cunt around him. at the moment, you’re unable to form words, but you feel the exact same way, all you could think about was him while you were working and the last time he fucked you silly. he walks you over to a table, lips still on yours and his hands now moving to take off your blouse. he tosses the white garment to the side, leaving you in your bra and work pants. once the back of your knees hit the edge of the table, he guides you to lay on top, clearing off everything in your way - objects loudly crashing to the floor. he caresses your face as his right hand works the clasps and the zipper on your pants, fingers slowly trailing inside your panties, and lightly touching your clit from the outside. you can help but bite your lip and moan his name, wonwoo smirking in response and he rubs the pad of his fingers around your part. “think you can finish before junghoon (his vice leader) gets here, little one?”

-another wonderful sexual encounter brought out his soft dom side. he wanted to spend some time with you, so you two set a date where he can come over to your place, have some food, and enjoy your company. on the day of, he rings the doorbell to your apartment, bringing with him a bottle of champagne, dressed in a white mock turtleneck with black pants. when you open the door, a smile appears on his face and you take his hand, leading him through the door. you just put him at ease, and he feels so comfortable around you. “i missed you my darling,” he whispers as he kisses your hand, a blush creeping on your cheeks.

-some time passes after dinner, and the two of you are talking in the kitchen with champagne still in your glasses. as you sit on the counter, wonwoo finishes washing the dishes, thanking you for the meal. you shrug and say it was nothing and you didn’t mind, but wonwoo insists that it was something more. “i know i don’t say this a lot, but i want to let you know that i do love you, and you mean a lot to me.” your heart melts at his words and you give wonwoo a hug as he comes back to your side. “i love you too, baby,” you whisper. a few moments later, you delicately press your lips on his, and he seals the deal. your tongues dance together as you continue to kiss, this time your hands are the first to move and they tug at the hem of his turtleneck, pulling it up to reveal some of his abs. he helps you out as his shirt goes higher, and it’s quickly tossed to the other side of the room. he returns the favor by taking off your crop top, revealing the bra that beautifully accentuates your breasts. he licks his lips as he kisses your neck, his hands moving slowly up your thighs. “w-wonwoo,” you whine, “i need you!” “i know, darling, i know,” he responds. “you’ll have everything you want and more tonight.” he carries you bridal style to your bedroom, lips still locked together as gently tosses you onto the bed.

-you’re pretty sure by now your neighbors can hear you moan for your partner, but you could care less right now - wonwoo was thrusting into so deliciously that you body pinged with each movement. he knew your body and he knew how to please you, and tonight he wanted to make sure just how much you meant to him. filthy phrases leave his mouth, calling you his baby girl, how perfect your pussy was for him, and all he wanted was to see your legs covered in his juices. you grasp onto your hotel-like white sheets, your face contorting as his deep voice and dick send you over the edge when he hits your spot and releases his load in you. you breathe heavily as you come too, saying his name over and over as if it was the only thing you knew.

“i love you little one,” he kisses your cheek as he pulls out, embracing you as you cuddle up to his side.

“mmm, i love you too.”

[dark-moonlust]

Cοckwarming Minοtaur PART 1: Office

I’m turning this imagine into a series!!!!

Pairing: Minotaur x f!human reader

Summary: your Minotaur boyfriend Balen is madly in love with you. And he has a wicked little obsession with cockwarming. He always finds excuses to have you sit on his lap. Even when you are at work.

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, monster smut, semi-public workplace smut, Minotaur huge🍆, cοckwarming, lots of come. Don’t like, don’t read please.

This is a series and you can find more here and on Patreon.

You loved your Minotaur boyfriend, Balen.

The two of you had met three years ago at a workplace friendly to both monsters and humans. Balen was your superior, and you had just started working as his secretary. From the very first meeting, you had felt something deep and strong connecting him to you. You were attracted to him, incredibly aroused and in need of him. Balen had explained that it was the mating bond, a sacred bond that tied his heart to yours. Since then, you’d decided to give your relationship a chance and be together.

Your relationship was based on mutual trust and security, a connection deeper and stronger than you’d ever experienced.

Fast forward to the present, you still loved him like crazy, your relationship never better.

Balen was a fascinating presence in your life. Despite his towering and unusual appearance, your Minotaur was tender and sweet. You saw past his different appearance and found something deep and poignant with him. He cared for you better than any human boyfriend would — and fucked you with a passion that left you breathless.

Balen was madly in love with you. And he had a wicked little obsession with cockwarming. He was obsessed with the feel of you, the security of holding you in his arms while his cock pulsed inside you. And he always found excuses to have you sit on his lap, his cock thrust up your depths as he resumed his day as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

During shopping? During work? During lunch, dinner or any time of the day. Yes to all. Balen somehow made it work.

At work, he was particularly demanding when cockwarming him. Coworkers might enter his office, but he kept you there, your neat dress hiding your flushed face and betraying your state. Sometimes he played with your clit and made you cum, other times, he just stayed inside you and made work calls and reviewed business files. And when he finally pulled out of you, it was always with the promise to find a way to be close to you later.

That morning, you were in your office working on a presentation for an important project. You’d finished it with ease and were eager to share your ideas with your boss and colleagues. As you sat at your desk, typing away at your computer, the phone rang.

Called ID: Mr. Balen - Office.

You had an idea of what this call was about.

“Hello,” you answered casually.

“Come to my office,” your boyfriend said, his voice deep and throaty. “I need to check the progress of your presentation.”

“Yes, Sir.”

You complied, standing up and making your way to his spacious office. You knocked and entered discretely.

And there he was.

Seated at his magnificent mahogany desk, the sheer size of him dwarfed the surrounding furniture. Balen’s hulking form filled the room, his presence overwhelming. He was wearing a charcoal gray suit, the clothing tailored to fit his immense size. He was at least three times bigger than you, his body chiseled with muscles and silky fur. His head was crowned with a pair of curved horns, his face a captivating combination of beast and man. Upon seeing you, his dark eyes lit up and he let out a deep rumble, vibrating from his chest.

“Come here,” he said, his voice casual but demanding.

“I’ve brought my presentation,” you said but as soon as you were inches from him, he pulled you to him, his hands lifting your dress and guiding you to sit on his lap.

“Balen,” you whined as he quickly tugged away your panties, a finger finding its way inside you. You were drenched, wet from the earlier fuck he’d given you during the car ride to work. You clutched his broad shoulders, burying your face in his chest and biting your lips as that wickedly perfect digit stretched your walls, preparing you for his cock.

Soon, you felt him shift, unzipping his trousers and freezing his monstrous cock. Your Minotaur sported a dick unlike any other. It was long and curved, thick and surrounded by protruding veins. The head was broad and leaking pre-cum, his balls round and swollen, the poor babies squeezed between his legs.

Strong hands cupped your ass, positioning you over his raging girth. The cockhead nudged your entrance, coaxing your pussy lips apart and slowly invading your depths. With a slow, deliberate upward thrust, he buried himself inside you, a low groan of satisfaction rumbling from his chest. Your belly bulged from the sheer girth of him inside you. You moaned lewdly but quickly muffled your cries by biting his shoulder. He loved it when you did that.

“So good for me. Just for a little bit, baby, okay?” he murmured, his hands resting possessively on your hips. “I need this.”

You nodded, trying to control your breathing as you adjusted to the invasion and stretch. Balen resumed his work, one large hand rubbing your ass from under your dress while the other resumed his work, moving expertly over his keyboard as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He even studied your presentation while you struggled to focus with the constant feel of his cock stretching your pussy.

“Excellent work with your presentation,” he praised, “you covered every important point.”

“Th…thank you,” you murmured, running your fingers through the exposed fur at his neck.

You wiggled a little, desperate for release and rubbed your clit against him. His hand on your ass pressed you closer against him, thrusting just barely inside you. He did it again and again, rewarding you for taking his dick so well. A few minutes later, the friction against your clit was perfect and you came, your walls contracting hard around his cock. You bit his shoulder to muffle your cries and Balen followed, releasing pump after pump of his load inside you. He was surprisingly quiet and reserved, but you knew his passion was great; his heartbeat was erratic.

“Good girl,” he whispered in your ear, his breath warm against you.

It was at that moment, that a coworker knocked on the door. You clutched your boyfriend, your heart racing. Balen remained calm, his hands steady as he continued to work and bid the coworker to enter. The coworker, a male werewolf, entered, used to the sight of you hugging your boyfriend and what was happening beneath your neat clothing. Everyone in the office knew of your relationship and the demands of your minotaur boyfriend. Balen had made it so everyone respected you no matter what.

Balen and the werewolf discussed business as usual, while your face flushed with the effort of maintaining composure. Balen’s cock was throbbing inside you, his seed overflowing even if he was buried balls deep inside you. Once the coworker left, Balen kissed you, his tongue brushing against your lips before thrusting into your mouth. He tasted every crevice of your mouth and then drew back, a hint of a grin on his bull face.

“You did well,” he drawled, his voice thick with pride.

“Don’t I always?” you teased sweetly.

“Always.” He pressed you closed against him, his cock kissing so deep inside you that you groaned. “I love you mate. Love your beautiful smile, your lovely heart and your pretty little pussy.”

You smiled. “I love you, too, my horny minotaur.”

“Hmmm…” he growled. “You are my everything, little mate and it seems I can’t function without you.”

“Balen…” you trailed off, winching as more of his seed tricked down your thighs. “We made a mess. Shouldn’t we—”

“It’s alright, my love,” he said. “There are clothes in the cabinet. I always keep spares for both.”

Did you enjoy? Follow for more!

[yanderenightmare]

i love your hybrid au sm! the way you characterise each animal to suit not only it’s species, but the characters itself is so creative and nothing short of genius! so it got me thinking, how would you imagine the bnha characters as mythical creatures and monsters ??? ( eg. vampires, wendigos, harpies, werewolves ) etc.

Katsuki, Tomura, Hawks, Deku, Shoto, Dabi

TW: implied noncon, yandere, the supernatural?

gn reader

Shigaraki Tomura Ghost

You’ve moved into his old room, and though you furnish it a bit differently than he did when he was still alive, you’ve placed the bed in the exact same spot. It’s been all dust and dead moths up until now, it almost feels like he’s alive again as he sleeps next to your warm body.

It’s only small things in the beginning. Underwear that goes missing, unexplainable handprints on the foggy shower doors, your duvet on the floor even though you’ve never been one to kick it off in your sleep.

You’ve never been one to believe in the paranormal either, but something convinces you to search up the history of the house. You find out a boy had murdered his entire family here—parents, grandparents, his sister—and that the boy himself was never found.

Obviously, you shut your laptop with a bang and try and will it away from your mind. It happened years and years ago—whoever that boy was, he was long since dead. But the more it starts sinking in that you’re not alone, the more your belief feeds him—makes him feel real again, as though you’re slowly bringing him back to life.

Sometimes, you spot him in the mirror of your vanity, but when you twist around, there’s no one there. But you feel him—the gust of cold breath giving you goosebumps, the weight of hands and a chest pressing against yours at night, and the brush of coarse fingertips touching you in places—places that have you moaning his dead name.

Bakugou Katsuki Demonic spirit

He enjoys large houses—preferably something with a bit of history. But every now and again, some moronic humans decide it’s time to wreck the old and build something new—which means he’s often on the move.

He doesn’t mind living alone in his new house until you move in. He’s a little mad at you at first—he thinks you’re one of those wreckers, what with your renovations and whatnot—but then he understands that you’re preserving, not destroying. Apparently, the Gothic manor is your ancestral home built by one of your great-grandparents seven generations back in the 18th century—seems you were the only descendant who felt it was worthwhile to keep. 

He wouldn’t normally stay when someone else moved in—he’d often use his demonic means and scare them on their way. But with you, he settles for dwelling in the shadows, in the many dark rooms you haven’t found a use for yet. But when night comes, and you turn off the lights and go to bed, he can't help but end up in your room—watching you sleep, oh-so-peacefully and blissfully unaware of his presence. But he won’t do anything to you even though he could, even though you make it so easy—he’s grateful to you, his little housemate.

Your bedroom becomes awfully hot at night—you can’t explain it. Nor can you explain why the wind howling through the house sounds more like the groaning breaths of a beast. All you know is that your bed feels heavier than it should if you were the only one in it—and that you don’t dare twist around to see what it is sleeping next to you because whatever it might be, you don’t think it’s human.

You know it isn’t human. It’s too big to be, and its hands are too warm and too rough—and its claws too sharp where they rake into your skin and tuck you close to a chest that feels as though engulfs you. You don’t think it has a heart, only a stomach—and it sounds hungry.

You read up on sleep paralysis demons, and it brings you peace of mind, but only until night comes and you go to bed in wait. It’s the first time he talks to you. His laugh is like rusted clockwork, and his voice is like raked coals—hot and scratchy against your ear as he tells you how your human ways of rationalizing the things you don’t understand are cute and amusing.

Keigo Takami - Hawks Guardian Angel

Being a guardian angel has always been a fun hobby of his ever since the creation—he’s found it to be a nice break from all the other angelic duties he has bearing down his wings. Of course, it’s always sad when your human dies, but luckily, there’s always another one not far behind to steal your halo all over again.

You’re his most recent. He watches over you any minute he can spare, chuckling over all your silly human antics. And though he’s had plenty of humans before you in the long history of man and God, he can’t help but confess you’re his favorite so far. You’re just so cute with your big, adorable eyes and pretty smile.

He begins taking greater pride in his responsibility of being your guardian. He used to see it as but a menial little task he could take to when feeling up for a laugh, but something about you makes him want to watch over you every single second of every day.

And so he does—he has the feathers to spare, especially for something so important. But soon, simply watching over you doesn’t feel like enough anymore.

He knows it’s wrong—so very wrong—so much so he’s afraid he’ll be cast out if anyone were to find out. It’s not right for angels to feel amorous for humans—most would call it deviant and demonic. But he can’t help himself—watching you in your vulnerable state while you undress, bathe, and sleep.

Still, it doesn’t feel like enough.

Maybe he’ll come to visit you one of these days.

Midoriya Izuku - Deku Hybrid between fae and troll

He protects the forest and nurses all sick and wounded animals back to health, writing down the condition of trees and brushes in his notebook as he wanders for hours until he falls asleep in a moss bed beneath the stars. And though he knows his responsibility is purely to the forest, he can’t help but feel inclined to keep an eye on the little human who lives just beyond it. You’re just so cute with the way you walk the forest and sing songs you think no one hears—wearing your human clothing and living in your human abode behind walls and a door. He just finds it absolutely fascinating. 

Sometimes, you feel like there’s something following you when you walk about the forest next to your house. You’ll turn around to see a cluster of rocks and greenery you could have sworn weren’t there when you walked by—you look away before allowing yourself to think the pile looks an awfully lot similar to a larger human’s huddled form. But sometimes you hear it—the sound of stone scraping methodically, as though walking. You don’t humor the thought until you start finding his footprints outside your house, on the path to the forest—feet thrice the size of your own and sunken as though made by something very heavy.

Your legs go out from beneath you once you first see him—not like those times you’d turned around only for him to pretend to be part of the earth—this time, he’s pretending to be more like you, and it only makes it all that much worse. He’s bigger than a bear, grey-skinned with flecks that remind you of freckles and hair like fresh moss sprouts. His eyes are as green as the fox-fire fungi when night falls—glowing with nocturnal light. When you try to run, he follows suit, making the ground shake so bad it knocks you over. 

He carries you into the mountain where he lives and keeps you there from then on. After all, the part of him that’s fae has considered you his pet from the moment you took a bite of your first forest fruit. It was his gift to you whether you knew it or not, and now you’ll belong to him forever.

Todoroki Shoto Vampire

It’s an awfully boring world. Not much to do when you feel you’ve done it all twice over. The taste of blood has become stale no matter how many different types he drowns himself in at night. Sometimes, he humors the thought of setting his manor ablaze if only to watch the fire roar until the sun rears the top of the roof and finally puts him to eternal rest. But he’s been thinking about it for two or more centuries already, and he’s beginning to doubt his nerve.

Dead things can’t make vows, so he must go on as he decided to when he was still alive—that’s the curse—only another person can break it.

You seem doable enough when you stride into his manor with your little sharpened sticks and silver daggers. It’s been a while since a hunter has graced his presence. The scent of holy water makes him lick his fangs, and the nearly irresistible urge to drink you dry almost has him pouncing on you—but he knows it would be but a fleeting high unworth it in the end when he’d have to live another millennium without the warmth of the sun or another soul.

He drops down before you with grace. You have the tip of your silver dagger pointed up under his chin in the same second but get stunted by his pale porcelain face, showing no signs of aggression and rather riddled with a bleak sort of melancholy you’re not used to seeing on the godless creatures.

He simply stands there, straight-spined and high-headed, with his hands folded behind his back as though showing you respect—and then, unprompted and to your great surprise, asks if you would please make it quick and put him out of his misery.

Todoroki Touya - Dabi Hyrbid between incubi and vampire

He preys in nightclubs on those who have that mischievous glint in their eyes in dire hope their lust can match his. Every day, it’s a dozen new—he can never seem to find the right one—always starving and never sated no matter how much he gorges himself, always thirsting, always dying for more. 

Until you.

You’re but a dainty wallflower who doesn’t want to be there, but you have this scent about you—garden-fresh, like something he’s never smelled before, and his tongue yearns for a taste. He knows what it is once he gets closer to you—the opposite of sin of all things, it’s innocence, and oh, how he craves to devour it whole.

His silver tongue has had so much practice that using it on your gullible ears makes him all but drool, asking you if you’d like some fresh air. You nod your head, big eyes looking at him as though he were some sort of saint for offering. He laps it up—it’s all he can do to pace himself. But when he has you alone, it’s all over for you.

He’s going to corrupt every last piece of you until that once peachy keen taste of innocence has become an ever sweeter taste of syrupy sin. He’s going to make you exactly like him—and your tall fall from grace will leave you blasphemous and beautiful.

♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist