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Shoto doesn’t know how it started.
How he went from cringing at the slightest mention of a demonic entity, to having them inside him or vice versa. It wasn’t always like this. He would kill left and right, cleaning all remnants of blood off of himself as soon as he could. He couldn’t handle their DNA all over him.
That was no longer the case.
In a way, he loved how taboo it was, to be called dirty by them, to make them think he was being corrupted by them. To fool them into thinking he was a virgin and that his first time was with them. It gave them a sense of false pride that Shoto could destroy.
The easiest part of the job was fucking or getting fucked.
For a moment, he forgot about his past and how he should be angry enough to not want to be so close. But this was his way of coping, of having some semblance of power over them. The way he would feel upon seeing them when they would throw their head back from how good they felt inside him, or with him inside them. It gave him a sense of pride, that their supposed enemy, a demon slayer, could be enough to weaken them if even just for an hour or so.
He never grew emotionally attached, no matter how attractive or good they were at sex. He had never failed at slaying each demon he came across. As soon as ‘post-nut clarity’ hit them both, he was slicing their throats.
Up until meeting Vox Akuma.
And here Shoto was again, inside of Vox’s apartment, both sharing knowing looks. He had come over for another hook up. In the few months he had known Vox, they had slept together more than enough times to be considered fuck buddies. And who could blame Shoto, when Vox had made him feel things that no other demon or human has ever made him feel?
The way that Vox’s voice slipped into the crevices of his brain and settled there. It was like the pulling back of a trigger, and his clothes would come off.
Vox offered him red wine, and Shoto immediately declined it. It was quiet in the apartment, and Shoto’s leg was bouncing up and down with anticipation.
“Just fuck me already.” Came Shoto’s words, and he cut the silence in half.
Vox furrowed his brows and looked up from his wine glass, “Eager aren’t we?” Shoto glared at him as he walked around the counter, past Shoto, and into his room. Shoto followed soon after, feeling only slightly embarrassed.
Vox placed the glass down on his bedside table, and he crossed his arms, turning to face Shoto. Suddenly, he began to laugh.
“What the fuck is so funny?” Shoto felt exposed somehow.
“You just look like a lost puppy right now, that’s all.” Vox sighed and walked towards him until they were only inches apart.
“Shut your mouth.” Shoto responded in the only way he knew how to. He rolled his eyes and crawled onto the bed, leaning back against his arms.
Vox’s smile never fell. “Why haven’t you learned to be nicer? I’m surprised, it seems I haven’t fully broken you in yet. The only time you’re putty in my hands is when I’m fucking you and you can no longer speak.” He got onto the bed, placing himself between Shoto’s legs, his arms on either side of his shoulders.
“It wouldn’t be as fun if I was nice now would it? Don’t you like ‘taming’ me?” He laid back against the bed, bringing his hand up to toy with Vox’s earring. He was feeding into one of the many kinks he knew Vox had.
Vox hummed, grabbing ahold of Shoto’s extended arm, and pinning it against the bed with a stern grip. “True, but I also like when you’re begging, and when you drop the bratty act for a second.”
Vox leaned his head down, “I also like” he nosed along Shoto’s jawline and neck, his hands slowly lifting his shirt up, “when you’re on your knees, taking my cock with that pretty mouth of yours around it.”
Shoto flushed, remembering all the times he had done exactly that. Tears running down his face, stroking Vox slowly, his lips against the head, begging him to cum with the words of “cum for me daddy,” purely because he knew Vox liked to be called that.
There had been maybe once or twice that he thought about seriously killing Vox. The first time, right after he had one of the best orgasms he had in a long time, he completely forgot to do the slaying part of the job, and when he woke up, Vox was already gone. He was the first demon he didn’t kill.
Then, the second time, he went out to look for Vox. He found him, and in just a couple minutes, he was being kissed, gasping, hands everywhere. He had forgot about his dagger then, too.
And after that, every time he saw Vox, he remembered why he was still alive. Shoto was allowing Vox to live, at least that’s what he told himself. He could’ve killed Vox many times. Every time he had decided to ride him, he was in the perfect position to slice his neck.
And Vox teased Shoto every chance he could.
“Gonna cum?” Vox would ask, knowing that he was, Shoto’s hips circling fervently against Vox’s lap.
“F-fuck you-“ And his hips would stutter, spilling against his stomach.
Vox knew that Shoto could never bring himself to actually kill him. It just wasn’t possible. Not with how Shoto would scream his name and shake with overwhelming pleasure. He would focus in on that face he would make, and he knew that no one else would be able to cause that face.
He would tease other times by saying, “Is it too much for you, my love? Need me to slow down?” and he would halt his movements, still deep inside him.
And sometimes when Shoto was too far gone to be angry, he would give in, “no, no, please – please don’t stop, please don’t stop” he would say it so quickly that he would run out of breath.
Vox would feel satisfied, replying with, “That’s what I like to hear.”
Vox knew what Shoto was up to on some nights that he wasn’t with him. It was amusing that someone so vocal about their hate for demons was spending time and time again with them.
It was almost admirable.
And Shoto was in the same starting position as most times – underneath Vox, naked.
“Ah-mm-” Shoto covered his whimpers with the back of his hand, Vox prodding at his rosy nipples. He leaned down and licked a delicate stripe with the tip of his tongue, up from below his navel to the middle of his chest, and gave individual licks to each bud.
“You’re always so sensitive here.” He put an emphasis on ‘always’ and Shoto couldn’t help but feel defensive. Something hot coiled in his stomach.
Vox leaned back up, hands on Shoto’s hips, “Demon slayer huh? You can’t even do your job without whoring yourself out.” Vox turned Shoto over with a hard shove, a hand pushing against the nape of his neck so that he was face down ass up. He let out a noise of surprise upon being manhandled so suddenly.
“You come here, already hard at the thought of me touching you before I actually do it.” Vox whispered into Shoto’s ear, and he smiled at the way Shoto’s breathing grew heavier.
“You love being fucked, filled with all of me. You crave it. You crave a demon’s touch,” And Shoto wanted to reach into Vox’s throat and rip out his voice box as he said it.
“How many times a month do you find yourself on my bed, or on my couch, against the wall, against the counter, on the balcony,” Vox laughed at that last one, “why do you choose to come back to me each and every time?”
It was the first time Vox was using this knowledge against him.
He trailed the tips of his fingers down Shoto’s arched back, watching as goosebumps formed. The room was cold, but Shoto felt the heat rising on his skin.
“Is it because,” Vox brought the same hand around, placing it against Shoto’s lower stomach, ghosting against his cock, “you can only fuck demons?” Shoto gasped audibly, any trace of a retort caught in his throat. His hands clenched the bed sheets.
“Humans just can’t satisfy you like demons can, am I getting that right?”
Somehow everything Vox was saying was setting his nerves on fire.
“So wet.” Vox whispered, wrapping the same hand around Shoto’s cock, jerking it once, and swiping a finger against the tip, he was leaking onto Vox’s hand and onto the sheets. Shoto bit at them, muffling his moan.
“You’re turned on by what I’m saying aren’t you?” Vox chuckled darkly and Shoto wanted to cry, from the humiliation and the pleasure he received from it.
“You can’t even bring yourself to kill me. Even right now, I trust you’re strong enough to take me down and put up a good fight…but you won’t.”
It was true, all of it.
And he hated it.
-
Shoto wrapped a hand around his cock, pumping in time with Vox’s movements.
Vox wouldn’t have that. “You know better than that. Now what do you say?” He had a grip on the back of Shoto’s hair, making his scalp burn.
Shoto dropped his hand with an exasperated huff. He squeezed the sheets so hard that his hands began to hurt. Vox’s thrusts were relentless, the angle was too perfect, and he hit Shoto’s prostate every single time without fail.
His legs and arms were trembling, he would have slumped over if it wasn’t for Vox’s vice grip on his hair.
“I can’t hear you babe.” Vox brought his lips to the back of Shoto’s ear, “What do you say?”
Shoto felt a sizzle shoot through his spine, and his mouth fell open with a sob.
“Please, please, let me cum, oh god- oh f-fuck let me cum please.” Shoto gasped, biting down on his lip right after he said it.
Vox chuckled and Shoto felt the laugh echo off his skin.
“Good boy, good boy.” Vox finally said. Shoto felt his abdomen twitch, and he came against both the sheets and his stomach with a moan that Vox wished he could listen to again and again.
Vox let go of his hair, and Shoto’s upper body fell forward, breathing hard into the sheets. He pulled out slowly, flipping Shoto onto his back and dragging him down by his thighs.
“I just- I just came, Vox-“ Shoto yelped as Vox pushed himself back in with one swift movement, “y-you bastard, motherfucker-“
“So selfish, so fucking selfish.” Vox gritted his teeth together as he began a punishing pace. “Right after I made you cum? Maybe you aren’t such a good boy after all.”
Shoto felt his heart rate increase and he shook his head, holding onto the pillow behind him. “That’s not f-fair…I…I am a good b- ahh-!” He couldn’t finish his sentence, not with how overly sensitive his body was as Vox continued to pound into him.
“What was that? Huh?” Vox gripped Shoto’s chin with his hand.
“I am- I am a good boy, I’m a good boy.” Shoto shut his eyes, every word feeling like it was punched out of him.
Vox licked his lips, the fact that Shoto wanted so badly to please made his hips stutter.
“Show me how good you are and take it.” Vox pushed Shoto’s knees to his chest, and he was deeper than before.
He knew this was too much for Shoto to handle now that he was overly sensitive. Shoto couldn’t stay quiet, he bit down on his bottom lip to stop himself.
He hated this part of it. When Vox would break him down and know exactly which words to use to make him crumble. Vox knew exactly what to do and what to say to get Shoto to drop his act of defiance. It just wasn’t fair.
Why did he allow this to continue? Why did he allow Vox to humiliate him in such a way? Why does he keep coming back? What the fuck was so different about Vox?
Why the fuck did he make him feel so many emotions all at once?
“S-So so fucking…s-“ Shoto had a sentence on the tip of his tongue, and it refused to come out. His body slid up and down with each thrust, and he knew he would be extra sore tomorrow. He was always sore after spending the night with Vox, and sometimes he had marks on his skin that reminded him of everything he did to get them there. Whether it was talking back when Vox was trying to make him submit, or when he asked for it directly.
Vox had a sickening smile on his face. “Can’t even fucking speak, can’t form a coherent sentence,” Shoto knew he was close, they had done this so much that he found a pattern within Vox’s strokes and voice. “Such a pathetic excuse for a demon slayer.”
Shoto threw his head back against the sheets, and he covered his mouth with his hands, the sounds coming out of him were fucking embarrassing. The words were mean, and he liked it. He liked it so much and he hated himself for it.
Vox’s breathing was heavy, and when Shoto opened his eyes and looked down again, their eyes met. He felt something twist in his stomach as Vox bit his lip, his face melting into ecstasy as his hips stilled deep inside him, and he felt that warm familiar feeling of release.
Shoto gasped, his toes curling and knees threatening to close together if it wasn’t for Vox’s bruising grip on his thighs. He trembled and panted, mouth agape and he let his legs fall against the bed when Vox finally let go.
-
“Vox…was I…good? Was I a good boy?” Shoto finally asked after no more than a minute of lying down in exhaustion. His voice was soft, and his inhibitions weren’t anywhere to be seen. It was always like this afterwards.
“You always are.” Vox gave him the smile that always spelled out ‘genuine’, and he ran his fingers through his hair. And Shoto smiled, a warmth filling his chest at the affirmation.
This was why. This was why he liked Vox so much.
Everything he said to him, whether humiliating or affirming, was done so with Shoto’s needs in mind. He knew exactly what was too far, and what wasn’t enough.
No matter what he thought, in the past or present – he would always come back to find Vox again. And Vox would always live to see another day.