#set:other

Little red riding hood I don't think little big boys should Go walking in these spooky old woods alone...

Not dating, but here’s Izuku’s falling.

“So you’re here,” a voice booms out.

Izuku slowly stands up and turns his head to the direction of the voice. He is still shaken, having suddenly feel pain on his knees. He is trying to not glance at his back and nurture what used to be there but now not even a single feather remained–all of which burned at his fall.

He feels the fire sting his skin, licks the wound on his back and cauterizes it. He wants to cry out, to lash back at his Creator, but no one can hear him now…except the person in front of him.

“Who are you?” Izuku asks.

The man—the demon?—laughs. It echoes in the room, a loud mocking voice that makes Izuku take a step back.

“Fallen Angel—” Izuku winces at the address, his current status still an open wound and the calling an alcohol being poured at it. “Have you never been taught by your precious Father who I am?”

The demon smirks, his handsome face made more demonic with his black sclerae and his red eyes more prominent on his stark dark skin. He sits on a throne of fire, and it isn’t burning him at all.

Who is this man? Izuku thinks. What has he done to warrant a throne in this hellfire?

As if hearing his thoughts, the demon abandons his throne and nears Izuku, each slow step giving Izuku an urge to step back or to flee, but there is no escape from this world. For the second time in his life, Izuku fears–the first time was when he was called by Him and was passed judgment.

“I am the ruler,” the demon answers him. “My name is Katsuki. Know it well for that is the name that you will be screaming forever while you rot in this place.”

Katsuki lifts his chin, and Izuku’s fear only grows stronger as he stares back at those red eyes. Despite the fear he feels when thinking of the promise behind those words, Izuku is entranced by the demon. He knows from his studying that this ruler before him is a master of temptation, and the situation Izuku founds himself in is a great example of why.

Izuku moans as Katsuki’s hand brushes down his back and settles at his tail bone, where he kneads it. Something is tingling there and when he takes a look, he sees a tail–Oh, God, it was happening.

Katsuki grabs his hair abruptly, the pull making Izuku gasp.

“Look at me,” Katsuki orders, giving Izuku no choice, before crashing his lips to Izuku’s. It’s a weird sensation, something Izuku has not felt before. In his mouth, Katsuki explores with his tongue and sucks his soul out of him—Izuku doesn’t know if it were literal, but that is what he is feeling as the demon continues to take and take from him. His saliva is like lava and it’s almost like it was pouring inside him, warming his insides. Heat pools at his stomach.

Izuku doesn’t know what’s happening, but at the back of his mind, he knows it exactly. This can’t be—this shouldn’t be—it’s all wrong.

Katsuki moves the hand at his tail to his ass. Izuku squeaks and tries to push the demon away with his arms, but it’s no use. Katsuki plunges his fingers and Izuku screams. He grips at the demon’s shirt.

“Please no,” Izuku begs, “Oh, God, save me.”

Katsuki barks out a laugh. “No one is here to save you anymore, Fallen Angel.”

He’s right. The thought rings in Izuku’s head as Katsuki drags him to the throne and makes him face the backrest. Izuku hesitates to place his hands on the burning seat, but he is left to do exactly that when Katsuki spreads him with his fingers and exposes his hole. The fiery seat doesn’t burn him, but he can feel the extreme temperature. It hurts.

Izuku groans as something wet—hot like molten metal, singeing him—presses inside him where nothing—no one—has ever touched before. Izuku resents himself when he feels pleasure. He shouldn’t like this. He shouldn’t enjoy this, but he does.

His moans reverberates in the room among the screams of the other fallen; he wasn’t hearing them before, but now that he can, it’s a wonder how Izuku could have ignored them. Izuku should be concerned. Embarrassed that he was doing something so indecent in front of others. He should be crying at the sounds of suffering and wanting to relieve them of the pain, but Katsuki’s tongue is a huge distraction.

Izuku digs his fingers at nothing—nothing is there to anchor him—as Katsuki removes his mouth and mounts him like a bitch in heat. He plummets inside without warning, causing Izuku to scream at the sudden intrusion. It’s splitting him inside, tainting him, torturing him, ruining him.

Izuku is no longer pure.

Katsuki grips Izuku’s shoulder and pushes him backwards at each thrust. He mocks Izuku with words, calling him a bitch, a traitor, abandoned.

Every insult scorches him, and it hurts. An eternal pain. More painful than when his wings and halo were ripped off him, and he was cast into this Hell by his own friends.

He likes it. He hates it. He wants it.

“You’re mine,” Katsuki snarls before coming and filling him inside with so much of him that Izuku sobs.