Mistletoe Mischief

🔥 choose violence ask game 🔥

the character everyone gets wrong

a compelling argument for why your fave would never top or bottom

screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr

what was the last straw that made you finally block that annoying person?

worst discord server and why

which ship fans are the most annoying?

what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them?

common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

worst part of canon

worst part of fanon

number of fandom-related words you've filtered

the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

worst blorboficiation

that one thing you see in fics all the time

that one thing you see in fanart all the time

you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

there should be more of this type of fic/art

it's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on...

you're mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like...

part of canon you found tedious or boring

part of canon you think is overhyped

your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

ship you've unwillingly come around to

topic that brings up the most rancid discourse

common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

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Mirror, Mirror, Brat Tamer

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[NSFW] ‼ 18+ >MDNI<

Summary: You are a brat. This is known, and there's no changing that anytime soon.

Dabi loves trying to fuck it out of you anyway, even if he wouldn't have you any other way.

Pairing: Dabi/F!Reader

Content Warning: Mirror Sex Rough Sex, Daddy Kink, Cockwarming, Dacryphilia, Praise Kink, Orgasm Control, Light Spanking, Begging, Creampie, Body Worship, Light Dom/Sub, Brat Tamer Dabi, Brat Reader, Submissive Reader, Dabi has Genital Piercings

Word Count: 5K

Disclaimer: Character belongs to Kohei Horikoshi

A/N: So this is a rewrite basically, kinda, since it's the same as my ShigaDabi fic by the same name in Ao3, just altered to suit.

My Ao3 is the same username if you wanna go there

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There are many ways one could describe you. A menace, a gremlin, a brat. And you could attest to being those things occasionally.

Like today, when you decided to tease your boyfriend but then step just out of reach of scarred and stapled hands, grinning impishly as you did so, or pouting and complaining about Kurogiri not getting the right snacks, then ignoring your boyfriend telling you to knock it off, only apologizing after seeing the genuine displeassure on your partner's face, you could admit you were being a brat.

And you revel in being a brat, because being a brat gets you fucked stupid.

But you wouldn't exactly describe yourself as shy. You aren't timid, though maybe a bit reclusive and withdrawn, but you're not really shy.

Though there's something about being exposed and spread wide in front of a mirror that makes you shy away. You've had sex in front of a mirror before, but you mainly just saw your face or side profile, and even then you're usually distracted enough to not be that embarrassed.

This though, was very different.

Sitting on Dabi's lap is different in front of a mirror. Both of you completely naked, Dabi's hands holding your legs spread wide, showing your cock-stuffed cunt, his dick half hard yet still thick enough to spread you open, your face and chest flushed, brows pinched and eyes averted; only catching glimpses of the way you look in Dabi's lap by accident, the way your pussy lips are puffy and soaked in your slick, leaking around him, and you bite your lip in embarrassment.

This wasn't the plan.

You thought you'd be thrown onto the bed and fucked into oblivion until you sobbed, just how you liked it but no. After opening you up slowly, meticulously, on slick, long, heated fingers, edging you three fucking times, then sitting you on his cock, Dabi sat at the edge of the bed, holding you in his lap, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs to spread and torture you.

Dabi has you just sitting on his cock, not moving, not doing anything, while you leak around him like a fucking faucet, pussy throbbing from the teasing neglect. Just a warm hole for him to use.

"Such a pretty cock warmer, yeah?" Dabi says, grinning roguishly as he gives your thighs a quick, heated squeeze, spreading you impossibly further.

Your eyes clench shut as you bite the inside of your cheek to fight off the quiet whimper threatening to come out of your mouth, your fingers digging into the sheets beside Dabi's hips. You regret not begging when you should've. Why did you have to be such a stubborn fucking brat?!

"Not gonna look?" Azure eyes trained on your face in the mirror, he noses at your neck, murmuring. "Don't be shy baby, I'm just showin' you how good you look warmin' my cock for me, hm?"

You know this is both a punishment and a game. You've been a little extra mouthy and bratty to Dabi lately, so maybe this is what you get for being a little shit. To sit on his cock and be the good little hole that you are, warm and pliant. You try to shift, to get even the tiniest bit of friction, but your eyes crack open when the grip on your thighs tighten, definitely leaving pretty bruises in their wake, stilling you.

Catching a glimpse of your body in the mirror, you see how still you're being held, the exception being your heaving chest; your tits moving with every breath. You want to look away, but you catch Dabi's gaze through the mirror.

Dabi lets out a pleased, "Mmm, there we go.", when you finally look up into the mirror without averting your gaze again. "So fuckin' pretty." He breathes, mismatched lips pressing kisses into your neck, lidded gaze focused on you.

You quickly run out of the little patience you had. You don't want to just sit here, being teased and humiliated, not even allowed to touch yourself. It's not fair.

"Fuck me." You finally demand, voice shaky. Your hand grips at Dabi's thigh, your eyes hot and sharp. You just want to be fucked stupid dammit!

"No." Dabi says flatly, holding your gaze, eyes level and focused.

The refusal makes you go rigid for a second before your lips start to wobble, eyes shining with unshed tears.

"That's not how we ask for things." Dabi murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple as he sees the desperate expression on your face, before continuing. "My little brat needs to learn to behave. Learn some fuckin' manners."

You whimper as you try in vain yet again to grind down on the hot cock seated inside you, the most you manage is clenching around him.

"Mm, you just keep tryin' to suck me in. Tryna milk me?" You let out a moan at that, both of you feeling the way your walls tighten around the hardening cock inside you and Dabi's grin is sharp.

Dabi kisses, mouths and bites at the nape of your neck hungrily, his cock giving an enthusiastic throb as your hole twitches around him. Stuffed and untouched, with just his words and kisses, you feel like you could come with just a single touch to your clit, or even some friction.

Finally fully hard, nestled right up against your cervix, you feel your control and sanity about to snap.

You really just need to be pounded into the fucking bed.

"Please, Dabi. I'll behave, I'll—hnn— I'll be good, just fuck me, plea-se.", you beg, voice cracking as you whine and wiggle in Dabi's grasp but not able to move as much as you would like.

Dabi, being the tease and bastard that he is, doesn't give you what you want just yet, despite his cock giving an eager pulse, the sound of you begging too fucking good, going straight to his dick. You whimper and cry, saying whatever you need to, to make Dabi want to fuck you, losing your shame, but you still don't get what you want yet; Dabi just watches, massaging your thighs and chuckling lowly as your eyes well up with tears.

"Alright, Love." He finally gives in; his baby was so very polite and adorable after all. Lowering your legs between his, making you keep your thighs together, still sitting perfectly in his lap, he asks, "Think you've learned your lesson, Doll?"

Yeah, when I've been a brat but wanna get fucked asap, beg and ask for forgiveness asap! You nod obediently, outwardly docile and innocent; complacent.

Muttering "Use your words, and remember your manners." into the skin just below your ear, eyes pinning you in place, Dabi rubs his thumbs in circles where they rest on your inner thighs.

"Yes, Daddy, I'm sorry." You breathe, almost panting with anticipation.

Dabi hums. It's a pleased, low sound that makes the hairs on the back of your neck raise. He presses a kiss where his lips rest, murmuring "Good girl, Y/N." lowly in your ear.

You truly thought Dabi would finally fuck you now. Fat cock fully hardened, stretching your cunt so, so good, he throbs inside the gripping heat and you feel all of it.

Every inch, every vein, every bar of steel, every single pulse of hot flesh inside you, resonating like a brand from within you, and you need to be thoroughly split in half on that cock.

Grinding your hips impatiently, you go to immediately start bouncing on his cock, already halfway up, only for Dabi's left arm to wrap around your waist, his hand gripping your side tightly and pulling you back down to his lap, forcing you down even more than before, so his cock would stay deep inside your quivering hole, dragging a shaky moan from your lips, eyes clenching shut.

Dabi's other hand holds your face, fingers pressed into your cheeks, muttering "Watch.", making you look at yourself in the mirror. The tears gathered in your eyes finally fall as you moan weakly, your eyes pleading.

"Daddy, please," you sob out a whine, your voice high as your chest heaves with a gasp, holding your own teary, gaze in the mirror.

The hand holding your side loosens enough, just for some breathing room but not to the point where you could move, while the hand on your face doesn't let go, only shifts.

Hand now gripping your chin, middle finger stroking at a pulse point, thumb rubbing at your botton lip, he breathes, "See how pretty you look, Dolly?" Your lips part, tongue darting out to lick at the thumb, before Dabi slips it in to press at the wet muscle and pressing a kiss to your cheek, tasting the salt of your tears on his lips, when he gets a small nod and sound of agreement in response.

Though Dabi wishes for a more verbal response, he knows not to push you too much, not right now. All in due time.

For now, his good girl deserves to get what she wants. Because for all that you are a brat, you're Dabi's brat, and Dabi says his good girl deserves to be spoiled, though you do have to work for it this time.

"Now, I was gonna fuck you into the bed, but you were impatient. How 'bout you be a good girl and put on a little show for me, hm?" He rumbles, fingers caressing your side, cerulean eyes hot on your skin.

You nod in response, not really even wanting to be a brat anymore, not right now. Right now you want to be a good girl, Dabi's good girl, and to be fucked, and is rewarded with another peck to the cheek.

"C'mon, stand for me, baby." Confused, you comply with Dabi's guidance, brows furrowed. The confusion is quickly ignored as the drag of the cock within you, piercings catching on your entrance, sends a shudder through you, a soft "mmf" escaping your lips.

Dabi doesn't bother to hide the borderline feral grin or gleam in his eyes, just guides you to the side of the bed.

Sitting up against the pillows, he pulls you back into his lap and in for a deep kiss, full of tongue and teeth.

Dabi licks into your mouth languidly, his tongue tasting and branding you all at once, heated hands gripping at your thighs, so close to where they're wanted but not complying, before he looks up and over your shoulder as he watches his own scarred hands grab and knead at the soft flesh of your ass possessively.

By the time he pulls away with a shiny, thin string of saliva still connecting your lips, you're a quivering mess.

Giving your ass a firm squeeze, he says, "You're gonna turn around and watch yourself bounce on my cock since you were so eager, yeah baby?" You whimper, at both the touch and the words, nodding, and after getting a pat on your ass, you quickly oblige; turning around so that your back is turned towards Dabi once again, knees bracketing scarred thighs, feeling the pulsing hardness against you.

A quick glance at your reflection makes you hesitate, a shaky sort of embarrassment washing over you.

Dabi pours some lube over his erection before running his knuckles down your back, ghosting over your ass and to your thighs. “Alright,” he breathes out, settling a hand on your hip, giving it a gentle yet firm squeeze as he guides you to lift up, “You know what to do, Doll.”

Biting your lip, you shakily lift yourself up, letting the hands on your hips guide you until you feel the tip of Dabi's cock catch against your entrance. You sink down, one hand reaching back to guide the cock in, letting out a moan as the velvety head pops inside. You try to sink down faster, take all at once, because you're ready dammit, the embarrassment fading away back into want, but the hand on your hip tightens warningly, making you slow down.

Dabi makes you take it agonizingly slow, piercings poping in one by one, sending a jolt to your nerves in the best way each time, to the point you aren't even sure how long it took, only that you let out a mix of a sigh and a whimper when you're finally fully seated again, feeling Dabi's scarred thighs flush against you. Heated hands slide up and down your sides as he kisses below your ear, whispering a soft ‘Good girl’ that makes you clench around him with a shuddering moan.

“Whenever you're ready, Love.” Dabi chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before giving your hip a gentle squeeze, and leaning back, left hand remaining to just rest on your hip, thumb stroking lightly where it sits, while he props his other elbow up beside him on the pillows.

With trembling legs, you lift yourself up, till just the head is inside you, before dropping back down. You moan loud and gasping as the fat cock spears you so, so deep in this angle, the feeling of piercings dragging against your walls so torturously delicious.

The carnal craving for more sets in and with your hands planted on Dabi's knees to hold yourself steady, you quickly repeat the movement, until you're fucking yourself properly, seeing stars with every bounce, your tits bouncing and swaying with your every move. And you try. You try so, so hard to be good, to look at your reflection, because it's what your Daddy wants, and you can feel the searing gaze on you, but you can't help as your eyes roll shut as you lean your head back against Dabi's shoulder as you focus on moving, despite the burning in your thighs, because it feels so, so good.

Dabi allows you the reprieve of basking for a few moments, before he thrusts up into you as he taps at your hip bone and says, voice low in your ear, "Eyes open." On a gasping moan, you obey, peeling your eyes open, as the authority in his tone sends a shiver down your spine.

And as your eyes land on you both once more, you couldn't help but clamp down and grind.

“Dab-, Daddy,” you whine, now unable to tear your eyes away from your reflection of the way your bodies move together. Your breasts bouncing, nipples pert and neglected; and your skin seems to almost glow with the glisten of the sheen of sweat with every movement, contrasting artfully against the mosaic of Dabi's scars, skin and staples; his azure gaze electric.

“Like what you see, Gorgeous?” Dabi asks, voice practically a purr, “Fuck, squeezin' me so good, sweetheart.”

You give a panting agreement, eyes drifting to and trained on where Dabi's hand travels down over your thighs, ghosting over you weeping pussy and neglected clit but still not touching. And you feel the all consuming need to be touched, to be groped, to be claimed.

"Please" The panting, whimpering plea drips from your lips like honey, thick and so very sweet.

And Dabi can't help but tease you, can't help but want to hear you beg. "Please what, Baby?"

"Plea—ahhnn— please touch me." Is the airy whine, fingers digging into the healthy skin of scarred thighs so you have something to hold.

You get a pleased hum in response, before letting out a breathy moan when you see and feel blunt, black nails dragging over the sensitive flesh of your thighs and the crease of your groin, left hand on your hip, right hand trailing up your abdomen and chest, ghosting over your pebbled nipples, to cup your jaw, turning it towards him as mismatched lips capture yours in a deep, wet kiss, tongue stroking and teasing over your own, pulling away with a wet pop to trail down, over your jaw and throat, leaving trails of warm kisses and a hot, slick tongue licking and laving along the expanse of your neck and shoulder, leaving nips, bruises and brands in their wake; you automatically lean your head to the side to give him better access, reaching a hand back to tug at the raven locks as you continue to rock your hips as the pleasure builds and builds and you're on the edge.

Everything is too much and not enough, feeling so, so good finally having his mouth and hands on you again and you want to come but you can't, not without permission.

"Oh fuck, please, please, I—hnn— I wanna come," Dabi's teeth graze along the sensitive skin of your neck, smirk wide and feral before sucking on your pulse as his hands wander in opposite directions and you shiver at the way scarred hands look moving along your skin, all deliberate and precise.

His left hand trails over your thighs, up your abdomen, and to your tit, where he cups and kneads it before rolling the nipple between his fingers, as the other hand drags down, ghosting over your throat and other nipple, lightly pressing on your abdomen, applying pressure to his cock from outside, before splaying his fingers, petting at your slick pussy lips, all while he meets your every thrust. And you shake, panting and moaning and drooling and grinding, a string of babbled pleas spilling out as you throw your head back, eyes rolling back.

They fly open again when you feel a finger ghost over your clit, but all you can manage are gasps and breathy little pants and groans. Licking up the line of drool from your chin to the corner of your mouth, Dabi mumbles into the skin there, "C'mon, dance for me baby." He sounds amused and teasing and it shouldn't be that fucking hot.

Biting your lip, eyes unfocused and unseeing, you start bouncing again in earnest, ignoring your burning thighs, your movements less coordinated and more desperate now with you so close.

“Fuck, look how gorgeous you are, Doll,” Dabi groans, dragging your attention back to the mirror, hand roaming over your chest, alternating between your nipples, tweaking and rubbing them, and groping at the soft flesh, the other still moving over your cunt. “Love this, don't you, Baby?”

You grind and writhe on his cock, tears streaming down your cheeks, at the praise and touch, and all you can manage in response is an absent, moaning, "hnng, Uh huh.", as the coiling heat in your stomach builds and builds.

On a particular thrust, right up against your sweet spot, grasping for words, you manage to choke out, "Too—hah—too much. Please, Daddy, need to come." and when Dabi just licks the track of tears with a moan and a muttered "so fuckin' gorgeous", the sound and words going straight to your cunt, a sobbing whine rips out from your throat, "Hurts"

“Fuck, alright Sweetheart,” He groans into to your ear as he thrusts up into you, hand gripping your chest, as he finally, finally strokes a finger over your clit firmly, growling, “I got you, Baby.  Come for me.”

You get a last glimpse of yourself in the mirror, shaking, your face going slack, before you come with a sob, your head thrown back against Dabi's shoulder as your body stills and locks up; a string of babbled 'fuck, fuck, fuck, thank you, thank you, thank you's spilling from your lips, your mind whiting out. Distantly, you think you hear Dabi say something, something like a praise or a swear, could hear him moan while he continues to fuck up into you and use you, whispering against your ear how good you are, dragging out your orgasm, to the point it feels like your brain is oozing out of your cunt with every thrust.

Just as you're coming down from your own high, blinking away black dots, you see Dabi's eyes roll shut, his lips parted as he tenses and buries himself inside of you to the hilt as he comes with a deep groan. Letting out a breathy, whiny moan at the overload that is that sight, sound and feeling, you roll your hips and clamp down as you continue to be pumped full of thick, hot come, feeling thoroughly branded as you milk him.

Panting and dazed, mind slowly coming back to focus, your gaze rakes over your reflection. From flushed cheeks, to your own heaving chest, to where you're still connected and where you could see Dabi was still shallowly thrusting in and out of you, still half hard and creamy come spilling out the sides, before stilling, just buried and stuffing you full as you collect your breaths.

Dabi shifts to get the bottle of water from the nightstand, opening it and pressing it to your lips, coaxing you to drink and you oblige. When you're done, after drinking half, Dabi drains the rest, shifting again to put it back beside the bed.

But in his shifting, he jostles you, unknowingly making his halfhard cock grind against your sensitive walls and you startle at the jolt to your nerves.

Already not being able to really take your eyes off of your reflection, the stimulation makes your mind blank.

Dabi presses a kiss to your shoulder before settling his hands on your waist to lift you, to finally give you rest and love and care.

Swallowing dryly, you feel another wave of want wash over you.

You shouldn't.

You're tired, sore and full, but you want.

And you are a brat at heart. A cock dumb, greedy brat, and you want more.

Without thinking, you reach down to press a hand to your stomach, moaning as you could feel his cock move with the instinctive twitch of his hips, then trail down to where you're connected, rubbing at your joint flesh, fingertips now covered in your sticky juices, before pulling away, getting a questioning sound from Dabi.

Biting your lip, your gaze travels back towards the mirror as you again let your eyes drag over your bodies. With a small hum, you give a small roll of your hips, startling a quiet curse out of Dabi.

Your eyes meet in the mirror, Dabi scanning your expression. When all you do is bring your come soaked fingers up to suck and lap at them, hunger, want and pleading painted clearly on your face, he gives a sharp, wolfish grin in return.

Taking that as the assent it is, you tangle the fingers of your other hand in his hair and quickly turn your head so your lips could meet in a searing kiss. You feel Dabi immediately reciprocate, scarred hands fisted in your hair and roaming and groping along your flushed skin; slick, hot tongue laving over your lips before licking into your mouth, tasting himself, and you melt.

You feel his cock grow hard again within you, pulsing and twitching, and your legs go weak.

"Tell me what you want, Sweetheart. I'll give it to you.", Dabi murmurs against your lips, voice husky and reverent.

Eyes wide and pleading, looking hopeful and like you might cry again if you don't get what you want, you whisper, "Fuck me into the bed?"

Heated hands tighten in your hair and on your waist as Dabi wordlessly growls low in his throat, pulling you in for another firm kiss, before manhandling and maneuvering you, pulling you off of his cock with a squelch, and bending you over, pressing you into the bed.

On your chest and forearms, cheek pressed to the sheets, ass in the air, you shake with anticipation.

You hum a moan as Dabi rubs a thumb against your abused cunt almost possessively, stretching it and rubbing the spilling come into your slit like a claim, as he settles himself on his knees behind you.

Dabi slides both palms up your thighs and over the curve of your ass reverently, giving them a squeeze before his right palm meets flesh with a quick and sharp smack, just to watch it jiggle, dragging a gasping moan from you as you writhe at the sweet sting, hands fisting the sheets.

Kneading the stinging flesh soothingly, he spreads you, spitting right onto your twitching hole, the saliva mixing and dripping with the smeared spend. you gasp at the contrasting feeling, hips now swaying tantilizingly as you feel your arousal trickle down your thighs.

Left hand on your asscheek, spreading you open for him and gripping his length in the other, Dabi taps the head of his cock on your hole, not pushing in, just teasing it, rubbing against your folds and smearing the cum and slick there. At your hips pushing back, trying to get his cock in, and your sweet whining, Dabi presses just the head in.

And he gets exactly what he wants.

"Please, please, please, Daddy, more—", is the whining plea he's rewarded with for his patience, your voice laboured and so very wanton.

Your waist in a firm grip between his hands, Dabi presses in and out slowly, piercings dragging deliciously along your walls, and you moan long and low, before your voice chokes off in a gasp as Dabi snaps his hips foward again, flush against you.

As Dabi grinds into you there, you look up, at the mirror you momentarily forgot about, and you can't help but to clench around the fat cock splitting you, moaning out a breathy giggle in delirious pleasure at the sight.

Head thrown back in ecstasy, the column of his scarred, pretty neck bared, jaw clenched and sharp, muscles and abs taut, healthy skin, flushed and glistening with the sheen of sweat, contrasting prettily against the dark scars; staples gleaming in the light, and hands possessively gripping you, Dabi looks downright divine.

And when turquoise eyes open and pierce into you with a predatory grin, it should've prepared you for the next sharp thrust, but it didn't, and you gasp, eyes fixed on the sight of Dabi speeding up, drilling into you; your eyes roll back as all coherent thoughts are fucked right out of you, cock slamming straight into your cervix at a steady pace, a string of muttered 'yes, yes, yes's slightly muffled by the sheets, spilling from your drooling mouth.

Wanting to drag it out, Dabi slows down; fucks you hard and so very deep, dragging slowly out and quickly back in, over and over, grunting and moaning and groaning how good you feel, how nice and tight you are, how well you take him, how you're such a good girl for him, how fucking gorgeous you look, all as you sob and gasp and writhe under him at the sweet torture, clawing and grasping at the sheets like a life line; your body not knowing if it wants to run from the overwhelming pleasure or grind back against him for more, as your pussy flutters and gushes around him, creating a small pool of slick beneath you.

The sight of your back arched delectably, scattered markings on skin gleaming with sweat, and ass jiggling with every thrust, paired with usually fierce eyes, now soft, glistening gems, unfocused with lust and lost in pleasure, peaking through the curtain of hair splayed out like tendrils of silk, and kiss swollen lips parted, moaning and drooling, is ethereal and is almost Dabi's undoing. And it could very well still be. His hips jerk and speed up with wild abandon, pistoning into the pliant body beneath him, pounding you into the bed like you wanted, while pulling you back to meet his every thrust, as he watches the white, frothy ring of mixed come, lube and slick pool at the base of his cock and your hole.

If Dabi were to look up at your reflection, he would see a borderline beast, ravishing his meal with all the ferver of a starving wolf, eyes wild and teeth gritted in a feral mix of a snarl and a grin.

And when you clamp down on him like you never want him anywhere else ever again, cunt spasming and sucking him in on every thrust as you come untouched with a cry, soaking the sheets, Dabi can't help but follow, falling and curling over your back, left hand still gripping your waist, right holding his weight up, burying his face into the crook of your neck and his cock deep and grinding, painting your insides white yet again with a deep, gutural moan.

You stay like that, with Dabi inside you, his face in your neck, panting and basking in the afterglow for a few moments, before he presses a kiss to one of the marks left there on your neck and sits up.

He sighs almost dreamily as he takes in the sight of small shivers and aftershocks wracking your body, your pussy stretched and puffy around him, before slowly pulling out, shamelessly admiring the way his come drips out of the gaping hole, clenching around nothing, like it needs to be constantly filled.

He collects the dripping spend on two fingers before pushing it back in, getting a weak moan in response. Though, he pulls away after a few seconds, allowing his Doll reprieve, wiping his hands on the already dirtied sheets before gently turning you to the side.

You blink dazedly up at him, eyelids heavy and lips pouty. You look thoroughly, adorably fucked out, and Dabi couldn't help the soft, sappy smile that stretches across his face. And when he gets you smiling dopily up at him in response, arms stretching out to him, Dabi loves you impossibly more than he did yesterday.

He leans down to meet you, letting you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, then to your cheek, then to your eyelid, then to your forehead, before scooping you up and walking to the bathroom.

He'll get his baby nice and clean, warm and fed, then you'll go to sleep soundly in clean sheets, curled up around each other.

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The Creation of Shigaraki Tomura

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Arabian Nights

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[NSFW] ‼ 18+ >MDNI<

Summary: Aizawa Shouta goes to a suspicious spa for a relaxing day, when things take a turn

Pairing: Aizawa/Harem Boys

Content Warning: Male Gay Sex, Smut, Dub/Non Con, Gangbang(?), Harem Boys, Hypnotism, Brainwashing, Drugging, Kidnapping, Chastity Cage, Cock Cage, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Prostate Massage, Prostate Massager/Toy, Nipple Play, Cumming Untouched, Milking, Prostate Milking, Unethical Masseuse Actions, It's porn, Body Oil, Body Hair, Pampering, Loosely based on Aladdin's aesthetics, This is not meant to be offensive in any way, though it is pretty stereotypical

Word Count: 5.8k

Disclaimer: Character belongs to Kohei Horikoshi

A/N: This was my first requested fic!! I had sm fun writing this, especially researching stuff to be at least somewhat accurate lol

Hope you like it @princeasimdiya12 !!🥰❤

My Masterlist

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Aizawa Shouta has been notably stressed lately; more so than usual. And as his friend, Hizashi decides that he needs a break. Just a day to relax and unwind. He knows that even that might be asking too much of him by himself, so he enlists their other friend Nemuri for help.

Together, Hizashi and Nemuri conspire and come up with a plan, and they somehow convince Shouta to go along with it.

They book him a spa day at a themed spa, Arabian Nights, and though he rolled his eyes and grumbled, Shouta is secretly grateful for the reprieve.

When they all get there, because they both feel the need to make sure he actually goes, Shouta gets the feeling that something is off.

He voices this to them of course, but is brushed off because they think he's either just trying to get out of it or the stress is making him paranoid, it could be either or both.

As they check him in, he scopes out anything and everything he can. The outside of the building looked normal enough, but the interior, even just the reception room, is like a whole new world in itself.

Intricate designs cover the cream walls and high ceiling, with gold accents; tapestries and paintings lining them tastefully. The carpet beneath their feet, and decorative pillows on the available seats are plush and a matching wine colour, while the furniture are all dark reds and browns, with potted plants placed at the corners of the room.

He takes notice of all the employees he can see, all of which are male, though of different ethnicities and stature.

They're all dressed to fit the theme of the spa, in puffy, cream coloured pants with the crotches dropped, tight, black, low cut V neck vests, and maroon sashes tied around their waists. Gold sashes are draped across their chests from their right shoulders to their left hips, and thick, gold bands adorn both of their wrists, along with a cream coloured headpiece, each with a slanted gold stripe across the front and a red jewel at the top center, most likely rubies.

When they're finished checking him in, he's lead through a detailed, arched doorway, to get started, with Hizashi waving him off, saying that they'll come pick him back up later when he's done.

Though, as Hizashi and Nemuri exit the building, they don't see the eyes of one of the employees glow a bright, swirling mix of red and gold as he looks at them leave.

And by the time they reach the car, they can't remember why they're here, where they are, and with no recollection of an Aizawa Shouta.

*****

The man leading Shouta is taller than him; slender and lithe, almost serpentine in his movements. He's dressed in a black, floor length robe with red bell sleeves and a low cut neck that shows off his muscular chest, a matching red sash around his waist, along with a tall, black headdress, a thin and wavy gold pattern wrapping around the middle, going downwards at the front, with a garnet stone situated just above his forehead, and a long, crimson feather above the gem; a maroon cloth attached to the base of the headpiece is draped over his shoulders. It's extravagant as it is, but to top it all off, a black, dramatic cape with a scarlet interior flows behind his every step.

Shouta thinks that that might be a bit much, but who's he to judge?

Just as he's starting to wonder just how far they're going, the man leading him stops in front of what seems to be a shower and changing room and turns to him, allowing him to take in his features properly. His eyes are dark red, lined in black and lidded, and he has a neat goatee and mustache which just seems to emphasize the sharpness of his jaw and high cheekbones.

His voice is low and damn near hypnotic as he djrects Shouta to shower, just to freshen up, showing him to the towels and amenities. Shouta quickly obliges, as it seems to be like a pool or a public bathhouse; rinsing yourself off beforehand so that you don't bring in any outside dirt and germs.

When he gets out, the same man leads Shouta, now clad in nothing but a towel, to a large, opulent hot spring.

Ornately patterned tiles decorate along the walls, the high ceiling and around the spring itself. There are intricately carved pillars and arches, and statues of cobra snakes with embedded rubies for eyes placed around the room.

Shouta hides a scowl as he thinks how how much time and money is being wasted on this, though it's quickly wiped away as he settles into the water, it being far more pleasant than he anticipated.

He lets out a soft sigh as the warmth seeps into his skin, easing his muscles and draining the tension from him; sitting and soaking in the water for a long while, his head tipped back on a rock, eyes closed. Beads of water drip and trickle down the pale column of his throat, pooling in the dip of his collarbones and sliding down his pecs; facial and chest hair glistening with the droplets.

After only a few minutes, he begins to feel woozy. Though, the steam of the hot spring is rather thick, so he just chalks it up to it being the heat.

An attendant, dressed the same as those in the front lobby, brings him a bottle of water. It's sealed, so he assumes it's perfectly safe, and drinks.

By now he's completely relaxed, pliant really, and somewhere in the back of his mind he thinks that something is wrong, but he doesn't know what.

Eventually, the same man in the dark robes come back to collect him. Shouta stands from the water, about to head over to the changing rooms, when the man stops him. It's then he realizes that the man has a towel thrown over his forearm that he holds out to Shouta, and a maroon pillow, with gold stitching and tassels hanging from the corners, in his hands with a black and gold box atop it.

Accepting the towel with quiet thanks and beginning to dry off, Shouta thinks he should really worry that he hadn't noticed that until then, but the thought is shoved down almost as quickly as it appeared.

At Shouta's questioning look, the man nods to the box with a smile. He steps forward, gently unclasping the latch. When Shouta sees what's within the box, he blinks confusedly, wondering if he's hallucinating.

A chastity cage.

All shining gold metal, nestled in velvet pillowing.

Brows furrowed, he asks, "Why?" The corner of the man's smile twitches, because really, he shouldn't be questioning anything at this point, but he takes a breath to keep himself calm. It probably just hasn't settled in properly yet.

Keeping his eyes locked onto Shouta's, he says, with that same low, hypnotic tone, that people often get aroused from the massages, ending up uncomfortable when they're face down because the position presses on it. The man smiles contentedly when Shouta accepts this and complies without any complaint or fight, not seeing anything wrong with what he said.

Shouta reaches for it before the man stops him. "Allow me to put it on for you, Aizawa-san." Shouta furrows his brows in hesitation, and seeing this, the man adds, "It is part of my job. I must ensure that it is on properly and securely." Shouta nods slowly, accepting the answer and ignoring the nagging hesitance at the back of his mind.

He's guided back inside to another room with a massage table, being directed to sit on it, thighs spread.

Propped up on his hands, Shouta gasps softly as the man kneels in front of him and grasps his soft cock in his large hand, his cheeks burning with embarrassment at the contrasting sizes. He's a grower, not exactly a shower, and it's obvious.

The man's hands are slender and graceful as he works, placing the gold ring of the device around his balls, then slipping the rest of the cage itself over his shaft.

"How does that feel, Aizawa-san?" 

Shouta does his best not to squirm as he replies, voice strained. "Weird." 

"But it doesn't hurt? There's no pinching?" He holds Shouta's gaze as he asks this, eyes intense and searching.

"Well, no, but—" he cuts himself of when his breath hitches at a stray jolt of pleasure when his touch brushes his tip.

The man hums in acknowledgment, ducking his head to hide his pleased amusement, fiddling with it a bit more before Shouta hears a soft click. "There we go."

A low heat settles in his stomach as he sees the gold cage surrounding him, contrasting prettily off of his dark body hair and pale skin.

A dangerous glint of satisfaction flashes

in the man's eyes and Shouta flushes when his finger drags through the openings along the cage as he pulls his hand away. Shouta sucks in a sharp breath. The sensation is light, but that almost hungry look in his eyes makes it feel like so much more.

"Perfect." The man practically purrs, his voice hot and low, eyes dragging over him with intensity so potent that it feels like a caress in itself.

Shouta bites his lip, lest he says something mortifying, as the man stands back up. He moves over to a cupboard, taking out a few items of cloth before going back over to Shouta. "Please change into these, Aizawa-San."

Swallowing thickly, Shouta nods and stands, taking the clothes and quickly slipping them on.

It's a matching set of an open chest vest and baggy, puffy black pants with thick gold trimming, though they may as well be nonexistent with their thin, sheer material. The gold of the cage can still be clearly seen through them.

After he's finished changing, he's guided back to the same massage table, now adjusted to more resemble a chair, where other workers join them, quickly introducing themselves.

They're all of course unfairly handsome. Some with sharp features, others soft, with varying skin tones and ethnicities. Some are tall and muscular, while some are shorter and more lithe, but they're all dressed almost the same. All of them are in all white, silk, low cut robes, puffy pants and tall headpieces, with a matching cloth attached to the base of the headpiece, draping over their shoulders; the only difference among them being the variety of colours they each chose for their accessories, specifically the gem and feather adorning their headpieces, the sashes tied around their waists, and the sheer veil masks covering their noses and mouths, which match their eyes that are lined in black which make them stand out.

There are five of them, two dark skinned men with peridot and aquamarine eyes respectively, two tanned skin men dressed in emerald green and sapphire blue, and one with pale skin and amethyst eyes, seemingly albino, with snowy white hair peeking through his headpiece.

At first, it doesn’t register with him what’s happening, with them bustling around and setting up tables, appliances and products, but then they talk through the options of scents for the humidifiers, incense and massage oil. He chooses a light coffee and vanilla scent for the humidifier, cinnamon for the incense and rose for the oil.

When they're finished setting up, the same man in the red and black robes stands in front of him, hands clasped behind his back.

"They will now treat your hair, nails and skin, before the massage. Please be patient and enjoy." He explains, and they immediately begin as he leaves with a bow.

They adjust his seat, reclining it back to wash and treat his hair, while two take each of his hands, the ones with peridot and sapphire eyes, and begin carefully treating his nails, and another two, emerald and amethyst, does the same to his toenails after soaking, scrubbing, and treating his feet, all while the one with aquamarine eyes is behind him, treating his hair. When he's done with his hair, he moves on to giving him a facial, along with neatening his eyebrows and stubble.

And Shouta sinks. There's a low buzz of calm and peace from being pampered and taken care of, his eyes closed and breathing even as he relaxes with the aroma of the incense and humidifier in the air, and he's pretty sure they're all wearing the same sweet but mild perfume, though he can't place the scent. He doesn't know what could be causing it, but he feels loopy, his ability to think straight slipping away bit by bit.

By the time the manicure and pedicure are finishing up, along with the man doing his facial treatment, including a massage, his head is fuzzy and light.

The rose oil is warm on his skin when they begin the massage itself.

He starts at his jaw, going down his neck. From there, he goes to his shoulders, and then eventually his chest, all from behind him where his chair is tilted back, and Shouta barely reacts when they slip the vest off his shoulders and fully adjust the seat back into a table.

Now laying on his back, he pays no mind when they strip him back out of the very pants they instructed him to wear, now leaving him completely bare yet again, barring the chastity cage.

With multiple pairs of strong yet soft hands gliding over his body, Shouta feels utterly blissful as he basks in their ministrations, letting out soft, relaxed moans.

Every inch of him is given attention, from top to bottom. His upper half is paid great care as oiled hands knead his muscles and caress his skin, while the men at his lower half start from his feet and gradually move up his legs, rubbing out the tension.

He can't help but pant and squirm as hands simultaneously squeeze and knead his inner thighs and his chest, hands brushing over his now sensitive nipples, trying to muffle his little gasps and groans.

"Fuck," He whispers, voice all soft and breathy, then going higher and more breathless, turning into almost a whimpering moan as the man repeats the motion, grazing his palm over his nipple. "Fuck." 

And Shouta freezes, going dead silent; his whole body locking up as his brain blanks. He feels himself flush to his chest as he clenches his jaw, eyes darting to them to gauge their reactions. It's absolutely mortifying to be affected like this, by this, but before he can begin to fully panic, one of them drags the nail of their thumb over his other nipple, while another rubs soothing circles into his upper thigh, making his breath hitch and hips twitch.

He sees the pleased smiles on their faces through their masks at his reactions, the intensity in their eyes, and he bites his lip, considering.

He really shouldn't. It's irrational, perverse; downright whorish really, and he's never done anything like this before.

Though, seeing the prominent bulges in their white pants and the heat of their gazes, feeling it in their lingering touches, settles his decision.

He spreads his legs further, arching his back into the touch. The man's smile widens, pale blue eyes shining as he presses a thumb to the pert bud, rolling over it and taking in the way Shouta's face melts. The man huffs a soft laugh, pinching the nub between his fingers, eliciting a gasp from Shouta.

From there, he suffers sweet torture.

They run their hands over his skin leisurely, along his sides, tummy and chest, play with his nipples until they're puffy and sore, and massage and stroke the sides of his crotch without ever actually touching his cock, teasingly only focusing on everything but where he needs it most, and all he can do is pant, moan and whine.

Humiliation burns through him as blood tries hopelessly to rush to his cock, but the cage does it's job and doesn't let it fill, only pathetically twitching. His nerves are alight with the pulsing, needy heat with nowhere to go.

He doesn't know how long he's played with like this, basking in their groping, deliciously torturous touches.

Momentarily freeing him from torment, he's mercifully flipped over, face directly in front of a taunting bulge that's so close, yet too far for him to actually reach without stretching.

Their mercy does not last long.

Brushing his dark hair to the side, exposing the pale expanse of his neck and back, they start at the base of his neck and his calves at the same time, and Shouta melts into the table as the sweet torture begins anew. Their hands move down his back, and up his legs to his ass simultaneously, more forceful than he expects, like they're actually massaging out the tension, lighting his every nerve aflame.

A part of him feels silly for thinking that he’d released all of his stress back in the hot springs. Shouta doesn’t remember his muscles being this loose in his life.

Though, that’s not exactly a surprise. With his career, it’s a miracle he hasn’t keeled over from stress before now, honestly.

.

.

.

What is his career again?

......

...........He—

He's quickly distracted from the thought when he realizes that his sensitive nipples are brushing against the table and the chastity cage is at an awkward angle, so he shifts, raising his hips a bit to alleviate the discomfort.

That's when he feels hands spread his thighs further, rubbing and squeezing the flesh there's before moving up to knead and spread his asscheeks, while another hand slips between them, brushing over his hole.

Face down, ass up, his breath hitches and his hands tighten into fists beside his head as he feels oiled fingers glide over him there, a thick thumb rubbing over the tight ring of muscle.

He can't help but gasp and writhe as they tease and prod at him, slipping in just the very tip of a thumb, tugging at the tight rim, before immediately removing it, over and over again, all while the others continue to grope at his thighs and chest, hands slipping under him from where he's now propped up on his forearms.

And eventually, he can't take much more. "Mmn, stop teasing me." His voice is gruff and strained as he complains, but it just comes out thready and begging.

The men shiver at the sight of him, dark eyes glazed over and needy, lips shiny and swollen from biting them parted in panting little gasps, back arched beautifully and hips swaying tauntingly; his shiny, unshaven hole on show, winking and clenching around nothing, just begging to be filled.

They lament being unable to stuff him until he's dripping this very instant, knowing it's against the rules during working hours, but feel their cocks twitch in anticipation of the day they get to feel him wrapped around them, tight, pliant and hot.

For now, they settle for seeing him feel good and bask in it; some biting their lips at the sweet, low moan that's pulled from Shouta at a finger slipping into him slow and deep, others moaning right along with him at the sight of his hole greedily sucking in the thick digit.

It does nothing to make the desperation for his cock to get any sort of friction lessen, but Shouta can't help but rock back onto the finger, impatient for more as the man fucks it in and out, loosening him up.

It isn't long before he pulls out nearly all the way, a little whine of protest starting in the back of Shouta's throat, that quickly turns into a moan when instead of pressing in one, he has two of those long, thick fingers sinking into him.

His hole burns a little with the stretch, but even that feels good as he slowly pumps in and out, stretching him. He thrusts and twists them, dragging along his walls deliciously, before crooking his fingers, pressing them down and moving them inside of him like he's trying to create a hook towards his belly button, searching.

A long, low moan escapes him as his hands scramble for purchase on the table when a bolt of pleasure rushes through his nerves. He keens desperately, grinding back; the fingers pressing against his prostate again and he sees stars.

He feels mouths on his shoulders, lower back, and the back of his thighs, hot and wet as they nip as suck at his skin, leaving pretty marks and bruises in their wake on the pale canvas of his flesh, all while a hand fondles and plays with his balls just as a third finger slips in; and eyes rolled back, cock twitching in its confines, he can't do anything but moan and roll his hips, wanting them deeper, even as his nerves scream at him.

Because really, he shouldn't want it so badly, not when every stroke inside of his greedy hole is just making his cock hurt more, just making his muscles tense and fingers grip tightly onto the sheets of the table as his body tries desperately to find something to do with the pleasure wrecking his nerves.

The man scissors his fingers lightly while continuing to rub against his prostate, and Shouta's thighs tremble; practically vibrating and his cock aching.

And then the fingers are removed.

He whines needily, wantonly, as he tries to push up to complain, only to be held in place. One of them, the one with peridot eyes, chuckles lowly, tucking a strand of hair behind Shouta's ear and whispers, "Stay still, Gorgeous. We'll take good care of you." His voice is breathy and hot, all saccharine velvet as he tilts Shouta's head by his chin to the side.

Shouta turns, going with it, and sees the man dressed in sapphire blue holding something.

A toy. 

It's black silicone, and thick, but Shouta can't help the breathy laugh that comes out as he takes in the shape of it.

Not a replica of a cock like one would expect, but not one of the less human and stranger variations he knows exist either. No, this is shaped like an upside down 'T', but also almost like a genie's lamp, with a handle and everything, with the top of it elongated and curved like a dick, away from the handle part, more towards the other end.

It takes a second with his brain so soaked in his heady arousal mixed with amusement for him to make sense of the shape, realizing the curve of it is going to push against his prostate perfectly.

Shouta hum a moan, desperate, sweet, and excited, ass swaying in anticipation.

When the thick, slick head presses against his twitching, stretched hole, Shouta forgets how to breathe. And when it starts to push inside, he thinks he forgets his name. His world narrows down to the glide of the solid weight that's gliding over his quivering walls as it pushes so achiniy slowly in, and in, and in.

By the time it's all the way inside, Shouta doesn't care one bit about rationality, or decency, or reputation.

Because he feels full, so full and so good, and oh fuck he was right about the shape; that thick head pressing up against his sweet spot has his thighs shaking, to the point that he feels like he's going to shake apart completely.

"How does that feel, Aizawa-san?" The man purrs, tone all teasing, velvet heat as he presses the toy in deep, rocking it, while hands and mouths continue to map Shouta's skin.

"Good, good, so fucking good, please—" the words trip over themselves to get off his tongue, it already feels so good, so much, but he already wants more, wants him deeper, wants him to move—

Their eyes are molten on him as they hear him beg so prettily, the man pressing the toy in firmly and grinding it against his prostate. They revel in the moan he sends echoing off of the walls, and it's all they need to keep going.

He pulls it back, about halfway out, before thrusting it in again, and grinding, and Shouta trembles and strains against the hands keeping him in place, not actually wanting it to stop but it's just so much more than he's used to, so new and so good. And though futile, he doesn't know what to do other than try to escape the pleasure before it completely consumes him.

The man does that over and over for a while that feels like hours on his frayed nerves, and all Shouta could do was pant and moan and take it.

He feels someone tuck his hair that fell back into his face behind his ear. Focusing his pleasure hazed gaze, he sees it's the one with amethyst eyes, the albino, though he doesn't know when they switched places. Seeing Shouta looking at him, he smiles, rubbing his thumb against Shouta's bottom lip, tugging on it. When Shouta parts his lips, slick tongue licking at it before sucking it into his mouth, he moves his thumb back and forth inside his mouth, fucking into it, eyes hungry on him as he coos, "Oh you were made for this, weren't you, Sweetheart? Who would've thought that the great Eraserhead would be so desperate to be stuffed full."

His tone is all teasing heat as he rubs his thumb against his gums and tongue, caressing and playing with his mouth, and Shouta wishes it was more than just a thumb that's pressing on his tongue. The man shudders as Shouta looks up at him from under his dark, glistening lashes, moaning around him, seemingly in agreement, until he pulls it out of his mouth with a wet pop.

Shouta's cock hurts. They won't touch it, and the man won't pull the toy back more than an inch before he's pushing it back against his sweet spot and it feels so good, feels like so much more than it really is with his cock all locked up and useless, his hole so much more sensitive. 

He's close, so close to cumming, his orgasm is pressing against his nerves, pulsing across his whole body with a building insistence, but he knows he can't, knows his cock can't let it out; and it makes the need burn that much more. He didn't know he could feel so good, so desperate for release, without going over the edge, the pleasure instead just building on itself.

"I need to cum, plea-please let me cum, please—" he pants, voice slurring and strained, breathy and sweet as he begs. The man with amethyst eyes just smiles behind his mask, caressing his cheek and throat, the others running their hands all along his heated skin as the man fucking the toy into him hums in acknowledgment.

"You will, Aizawa-san. We'll help you, don't worry." He soothes, thrusting the toy in a little harder, drawing out another low moan from Shouta.

A hand pushes up lightly on his lower stomach as he grinds and rocks the toy against his prostate, settling the base of it directly against his perineum and balls.

"I'm going to help you now, Aizawa-san. I'm going to count down for you, and when I get to one you're going to stop fighting it and let go, hm?" 

What?

"Five."

He can't—

"Four."

He can't cum with his cock locked up like this.

"Three."

Can he?

"Two."

Oh fuck.

"One."

Shouta's whole body tenses as the toy starts to vibrate. Against his prostate, his perineum and his balls, the entire thing takes him apart from the inside out. That sudden burst of new sensation along with the grinding pressure, tips him over the edge, and he dissolves into nothing but loud pants and desperate moans.

But he's not orgasming.

His body feels like there's a thinner kind of pleasure pushing through it, taking away a little of the pressure, but it doesn't feel as immediate, as strong or good, as his orgasm usually does.

And then he feels it. His cock twitches in his pretty golden cage and he looks to sees a slow constant trickle of cum spilling out of him against the sheet covered table, before his vision goes white; his mouth dropping open in a silent, screaming moan, painting the table with thick globs of his release.

"There we go. Perfect, baby. So good for us." The man praises, breathy and fond as he keeps the toy vibrating, low but on, as he shallowly fucks it in, grinding it against him. But it's still enough, still too much, still perfect.

Still makes Shouta let out another little moan when he moves it, making more spill out of him as his eyes roll back. And it doesn't stop, it keeps going, trickling out in thick globs; that burning ache slowly being drained out of his soft cock, spilling out and out against the table, soiling the cloth there.

It's so much, both almost too much yet not enough. Though amplified by the hands and lips roaming his skin, it's not satisfying in the way an orgasm usually feels; it's more of that continued, gentle, pressing pleasure, but stronger. No, this is different from an orgasm, he's not cumming.

He's being milked.

It lasts so much longer than he's used to, like it's pulsing out across his veins for ages, before it finally stops, turning into just a few more drops, and he finds himself laying limp against the sheets, his arms giving out beneath him, muscles trembling as he tries to greedily fill his lungs with air, though his lower half is still being held up by them.

And he can't do anything but lay there and let out a thin whine as the man pets his hand over the swell of his ass as he eases the still vibrating toy out of him. 

The drag of it over his sensitive walls and swollen hole gives his body another little flicker of utter bliss as it slips out, his cock giving another tiny, pathetic twitch in response in its cage.

The man with amethyst eyes strokes his hair, running his blunt nails over his scalp, easing him back to his senses. When Shouta blinks glossy, dazed eyes up at him, he pulls his mask down, running his tongue along Shouta's bottom lip, licking up a line of drool from the corner of his mouth, before fully slotting their mouths together in a deep, languid kiss.

Shouta moans weakly into his mouth when he feels his grip tighten in his hair while hands grip his asscheeks, spreading him open. He shivers at the cool air hitting his sensitive, gaping hole, hips twitching at a thumb running along the puffy rim. The man pulls away from his kiss swollen lips, leaving a thin string of spit connecting them still that snaps when he moves far enough.

They gently coax him off the table, quickly switching the soiled sheets with clean ones before guiding him back to it, laying him flat on his back, rubbing over his muscles and joints to ease whatever tension he regained.

They clean him up as he floats, eyes lidded and hazy as they wipe him down so gently he manages to doze off, a small, dopey smile on his lips.

The men smile contentedly over him as they take care of him, another beautiful Jewel to add to their Master's collection.

They'll need to finish his training first of course, as this was just the first stage. Along with teaching him to be a legitimate masseuse, they still need to properly train his throat, which they will have very much fun doing, along with his ass to take more than just a toy. And after how wonderfully sensitive he is, oh the Master will enjoy him.

But they get the privilege of doing so first, and they will savour that thoroughly.

For now though, they need to get their new fellow Jewel settled in.

*****

[Two Months Later]

Shouta barely remembers his past life by this point. He knows his name, and knows he's a hero, or at least used to be, but most importantly, he knows he enjoys his new life as a Jewel. He's pretty and pampered, precious and treasured as his Master's Jewel, and he loves it.

The other Jewels take care of him as well, and he cherishes his relationships with them, whatever they may be; be that friendship or as lovers.

He exchanges gentle smiles with Aoi, the man with sapphire eyes, as he prepares the equipment and products to be used today on a trolley.

They have a new guest today after all, one Yoshida Kogane.

It's the first time he's being allowed to tend to a guest, and possible new Jewel, rather than just observe since his training is finally complete. It's also the first time he's finally allowed to wear his Jewel uniform during working hours, rather than the plain black he'd been wearing before.

Now, he's dressed in silk white robes, the low cut showing off his toned specs and chest hair, pants that hug his ass wonderfully, and a tall headpiece, matching with the others, but with black with a red sheen as his added colour. The sash tied around his waist, the sheer veil mask, and of course the feather and gem on his headpiece, a black opal stone, with flecks and swirls of red mixed in, suit him well.

Master chose it for him himself, saying it matched him perfectly.

Shouta's eyes are lined in black, making them appear that much darker; his inky hair falling in waves over his shoulders, barely hidden by the cloth attached to the headpiece. His facial hair is neat and groomed, trimmed into a light stubble beard and mustache, his skin smooth and glossy, almost porcelain, lips soft and supple.

His reflection is happy and healthy, pretty and perfect.

They soon move out to the room where Akashi, the man in the red robes who led him to this new life, is settling in their guest.

He's adorable really, on the shorter side, tanned, freckled skin, curly, blonde hair, and bright, golden eyes, and Shouta thinks his name suits him perfectly.

He would be a lovely addition to the Master's collection.

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

Hnnnggggg fuck he's so hot

Ya’ll look thirsty..

May I offer you a tall, dark, and hot.. coffee? ☕️

Manga reference below:

Procreate ✍🏻

4H 50M 🕣

#2 of SO MANY 🤷🏻‍♀️

Was too late for the actual poll but holy shit I'm so happy I still saw this

I never looked at the statistics before now and the joy that flooded through me felt tingly

I may cry

46, 364 hits????

Holy shit?? Fucking hell I love each and every one of you that contributed to that, because it's actually even more than that??? Those who end up only reading them here on tumblr instead isn't counted but it's counted in my heart dammit

KISSES AND HUGS TO EVERYONE WHO READ THEM I LOVE YOU💜💜💜

authors! go to your ao3 dashboard, click on statistics, look at your totals and tell me how many hits you have?

So I'm lowkey tweaking.

Now, as a preface, I love Aizawa. That man is foine.

So anyways, I'm clearing out some old pics from my phone because I haven't done this in far too long and I find some old pics........of my ex.

(When I say old pics, I mean that shit. We broke up in like, 2019. I still see him occasionally, whenever I go to our local anime convention but yeah. We'll come back to this one in a bit.)

ANYWAYS

I've always known he's hot, and I've always known that Aizawa is hot bUT I DID NOT PUT TWO AND TWO TOGETHER OF WHY I WAS IMMEDIATELY ATTRACTED TO AIZAWA

WHY DO THEY LOOK SM ALIKE I'M GENUINELY DEVASTATED

The long, dark wavy hair, stubble in the same places, dark, sleepy eyes, eyebags, not seeming muscular under his baggy clothes, but is actually pretty defined........even their personalities and slightly sadistic tendencies.......I'm Going To Scream.

And my immediate thought was, wow, oh fuck, I really fumbled an irl Aizawa lookalike huh, but then my brain caught up like. Bitch?? He's an asshole who cheated on you??? Get a grip???? And I calmed down but still.

THE WASTE.

To realize that they look and act so much alike is DEVASTATING ‼

Now, onto The Worst Part. Remember when I said I still see him occasionally at the anime convention??

HE CUT HIS HAIR.

HE LOOKS LIKE TIME SKIP AIZAWA NOW TOO.

I CANNOT ESCAPE, SOMEONE PLEASE FREE ME FROM THIS TORMENT.

My only solace is that they don't sound alike. 😃

Like yeah, his voice was pretty deep but not Aizawa deep.

So yeah, I needed to rant. 🙂

“Touya probably stinks of burned fle-” WRONG! He smells like a nice cozy fireplace leave me alone

I think I just had a religious experience

Angel's singing, harps playing, sunshine beaming religious experience.

They've always individually reminded me of something subconsciously and it turns out this is exactly it.

The mfs reminded me of each other.

I MAY SCREAM.

😔😔😔 vegasushi i saw your fish hear me out

what other creatures give Toji vibes in your op 🫦

HEAAAAAR ME OUT OMG VENOM TOJI

reblog this to pet the user you reblogged from please