Do. Do You Ever Think Dabi Misses His Mom

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Incubus Shigaraki

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Red Night

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[NSFW] ‼ 18+ >MDNI<

Summary: You go searching for the hot vampire you saw and you get exactly what you want

Pairing: Vampire!Dabi/ Human Fem Reader

Content Warning: Enthusiastic Consent, Fear Play, Chasing, Blood, Blood Kink, Choking, Biting, Fingering, Rough Sex, Public Sex, Sex in the Woods, Clothed Sex, Mind Break (kinda??),

Word Count: 3.6k

Disclaimer: Character belongs to Kohei Horikoshi

A/N: Happy Halloween! Final part of my Halloween posts! The entire idea for these are technically because of @candycandy00 , so this is mostly thanks and dedicated to you candy! 💕💕

My Masterlist

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The first time you saw him, you were...intrigued.

Dark scars contrasting pale skin like a mosaic, gleaming silver staples holding him together, pure white hair, shining like a halo. Yet the most prominent thing about him were his eyes.

Piercing blue, almost glowing. You've never quite seen anything like it. It was breathtaking. It was unnatural. It was beautiful.

And when he met your gaze, there was something...off...about him.

Maybe it was the way he seemed to catalogue everything about you in a single glance, maybe it was the gleam in his eyes as he looked at you, head tilted. Maybe it was the way he smirked; like he found a new toy.

No, not a toy. Prey.

Whatever it was, an uneasiness settled in your stomach.

He's not human. You know of them of course, the vampires that go bump in the night, though this is the first time you've been knowingly in the pressence of one.

You walked away with the feel of his eyes on your back and something dangerous settling in beside the unease within you.

*****

You thought that would be the last time you saw him.

You were wrong.

He was everywhere.

Like a shadow, he followed you; watching you, stalking you, hunting you, haunting you.

You would see him out of the corner of your eye, though when you looked, he was gone.

The feeling of being watched became a constant for you; fear a familiar friend.

And yet, after having grown accustomed to him, to that fear, you can't help the thrill that goes through you when you see him; the adrenaline rush in your veins whenever you feel his eyes on you, but you can't see him. The feeling of being hunted should be terrifying, and it is. Yet it's also so very exhilarating.

You know you're playing with fire, but you can't help it.

You wonder how it would all end.

You wonder when he would lose his patience.

*****

It happens when you decide to take a late night walk. Above you, the full moon glows with a tint of eerie red. A Blood moon, fitting for this night.

You know he's there, you caught a glimpse of white within the darkness, you can feel his eyes on you, and a shiver goes through you at what you plan to do.

You know this is where he frequents, practically his playground; it's why you're here. You crave to know him, to touch him, feel him; to have his hands on your body, his lips on your skin, his fangs in your neck.

And even through all of that, when he jumps down from the darkness of the trees above you, landing directly in front of you, the moment your eyes lock on his hypnotising azure gaze, on the vicious glee held within when you shriek in surprise, your instincts all immediately scream at you to run; because you are but a small prey in the presence of a predator.

You're running before you even process what you're doing, just following your instincts.

Running, running, running, your heart pounding, pounding, pounding.

The night air is crisp and cool against your face as you run. Your shoes hit the soft earth with the snap of twigs and crunch of leaves, branches snagging on your dress, tearing at the soft material and scraping your legs.

"I can smell you~" he rasps, his sultry voice sounding both distant and like he's directly next to you, all you see in the corner of your eye is that burning blue, before it disappears just as quickly.

"Run, little mouse," he coos, sounding like it's coming from behind you, making you turn your head back. But nothing is there.

"When I catch you, you're mine." His voice seems to come from multiple directions in the dark, and dread and excitement swirl deep in your gut, thighs burning as you run.

The thrill of the chase just adds to your excitement, knowing that the creature hunting you will inevitably catch you. And when he does, you will be at his mercy; his to do with as he wishes, his to use, his to claim, his to consume, body and soul.

The sudden silence blanketing your surroundings only amplify the heated fear, and all you can hear is your racing heartbeat, rushing blood, and the rustling of leaves.

The cold wind blows past you as he dances around you, playing with his prey as he darts around you, reaching out to brush surprisingly warm fingers along your skin, just to make you yelp.

The way he's so obviously playing with you somehow both makes you want to snarl and cry, and makes heat stir in your gut. It doesn't help that you catch a glimpse of a wide, feral grin whenever he's close enough to see it.

And then you stop seeing him.

You stop to catch your breath, every gulp of air dragging through your lungs, and you glance around wildly.

Having the vampire right on your heels is nerve-wracking enough, but the moments where he vanishes entirely are far worse.

Suddenly, you hear the rustling of leaves off to your side, and you automatically lash out, only for a scarred hand to grab your arm and press you into the rough surface of the trunk of a tree, a choked scream crawling up your throat.

Really, you should've known better than to try outrunning him.

You jerk and thrash automatically, the instinct to keep fighting and escape still present, but the vampire just keeps you pinned firmly against the tree, and only seeming amused at your squirming.

You force yourself to calm down, because not only will you acting like prey make this more dangerous than it already is, but this is exactly what you want! What you crave.

As you relax, a heated hand wraps around your throat, holding you in place, but not squeezing, and you're finally able to take in his appearance properly, and God, the sight of him with wild hair and an utterly unrestrained expression, grin so wide it looks like it hurts, as he drags his tongue over his teeth, the sharp points of his fangs glinting in the moonlight, is...Well, to put it simply, your underwear is drenched in your slick.

And this close, you realize that the pupils of his eyes are thin slits, like those of a cat's, and they're locked on you.

Chuckling darkly, he purrs, "Caught you, Sweetheart." His voice is a soot tinted velvet abyss, and you feel your knees buckle, but he keeps you where you are.

You pant, gasping for breath, as his thumb caresses the pulse point on your throat, the touch deceptively light and feathery.

He grabs your hip with his other hand, pulling you towards him; the heat radiating off him is almost suffocating as he towers over you, trapping you against the tree. "Now what's a pretty thing like you doing all the way out here, hm?" He tilts his head as his eyes rove over you like he's trying to figure out a puzzle.

You thought a vampire's skin would be ice cold, but he's practically a walking furnace; the feel of him disorienting you to the point of not answering.

Not that he seems to notice much.

A warm, wet tongue licks a stripe up your neck and your breath hitches at the sensation and slight sting of a scratch you didn't know was there, most likely from a branch.

The neckline of your dress is invitingly low, your neck and collarbones bare, and his hand on your throat slides to cup the side, tilting your head to lean in closer; slowly closing the distance inch by ruinous inch, until you could feel his breath against your skin, before burying his face in the junction of your neck and shoulder, nosing at the soft flesh there, inhaling deeply. "Fuck, you smell good.", he rumbles, his breath hot on your skin, his lips scorching where they brush, and you tremble in his hold, goosebumps raising in their wake.

"Oh?" His grip tightens on your hip and throat momentarily. "You want this, don't you?" His voice is a deep, amused purr, and you can feel him grinning against you.

"N-no, I—" you stutter, stupidly deciding to follow your first instinct at the shameful accusation; deny and lie through your teeth.

"Don't lie to me, Sweetheart. I can taste it." He presses his thumb to your racing pulse, licking over the small wound again. "Your blood at least knows how to be honest." he chuckles, taunting and mean.

You swallow thickly around the moan crawling up your throat, threatening to release.

"Well?" He murmurs, tapping his thumb against the hidden vein.

"Yes." You breathe, spilling your filthy truth and wicked desires.

He let's out a satisfied hum at your honesty and murmurs, "What's your name, sweet thing?", nipping at the sensitive skin.

You answer honestly, breathily, and he rewards you with a chaste kiss to your neck. "Touya.", he introduces himself in turn, and you think to yourself that it suits him.

"Mm, I want to taste you. Properly.", his thumb slides up to tip your chin up further, directing your eyes to meet his. "May I?"

You know he doesn't truly mean it, the question. It's merely an illusion of power, of consent, because really, what vampire asks their prey if they can eat?

He's simply humoring you, mocking you really, already knowing your answer but wanting to hear it.

Wanting to hear you so easily comply, willingly surrendering yourself, your dignity, to a creature of the night, a man you don't even know; laughably offering your very life force to an immortal.

He wants to hear the pathetic want of a mortal foolish enough to feel that way.

And yet.

"Please.", you sigh, sagging against him, a plea and a prayer as you bare your throat to him.

He breathes out a laugh. "Let's hope you don't regret it, hm?" His voice is a dark purr, a dangerous threat and a sweet promise, as he wastes no time in sinking his fangs into the soft skin of your neck.

You gasp when the sharp, stinging pain sets your shoulder and neck aflame as he pierces your flesh, marking you in a way no one ever has; your own teeth sinking into your bottom lip to contain your cries as a new heat washes through you, your hand moving up to tangle in his snowy hair, holding him to you.

His eyes roll back in ecstasy at the taste of your warm blood, his tongue laving against your skin as he sucks on your neck, feasting on it, and your grip tightens, tugging at the pale strands.

A low growl rumbles through his chest as he drinks from you, pulling you in impossibly closer, crowding you up agaisnt the tree, sliding his leg between your thighs, pressing up into your core. You absentmindedly grind down against him pathetically, panting; his hand on your hip sliding up to squeeze at your breast.

Already you're dripping as you grind your hips against his front, and moan when you can feel that he's hard for you.

He pulls away from your neck, seemingly reluctantly, his lips lingering on your skin momentarily.

His eyes are wild as he looks at you, pupils blown wide; grin broad and bloody, a single drop of blood trickling down the corner of his lips, and you think he's hauntingly beautiful.

"You taste divine." He breathes, and the tone is all dark pleasure, the low rumble in his chest a quiet constant, looking at you as though he's just found something precious; his hands roaming your frame reverently as he takes you in, licking up the stray blood from his lips.

A warm hand trails under and up your dress, and you gasp when he cups your clothed cunt.

"This is what you wanted, hm?" tilting his head, his eyes going to the wound he left on your neck, sluggishly bleeding. "Tsk, tsk, naughty little thing. Your blood doesn't lie, Angel.", he coos, rubbing slow circles into your clothed clit with his thumb, and you let out a shuddering moan. "And neither does your greedy body."

Hot shame rushes through you at your dirty desires being laid bare, at being claimed and devoured by this dark creature, and wanting it; enjoying it.

Nothing about this is okay.

And.

Yet.

Your needy whimper and glossy, pleading eyes looking up at him so prettily is all the answer he needs, and he smiles, sharp and vicious, and he leans in to let you taste it; taste his bloodstained lips capturing yours in a searing kiss. And like a fool, you kiss back, licking into his mouth; the coppery taste of your blood on his tongue adding to your primal desire.

He tears your panties off of you, the fabric falling apart easily with a loud rip, before immediately dipping two fingers into your sopping hole, curling them.

Your lips part on a gasping moan, eyes wide as you look at him, at that wolfish smile and gleaming fangs.

Your legs tremble as he spreads his fingers, scissoring you open, stretching you out for him. "Oh fuck~" you whine, nails digging into his forearm and bicep as you shamelessly grind down against him.

"More, more, Touya, please more." You babble, pleading and hoping he knows what you mean, because you can feel your orgasm nearing, but this isn't how you want to cum.

He just grins at you, because he knows, but feeling either merciful or impatient, or perhaps both, he pulls his fingers out with a squelch, quickly undoing his belt and pants, before lifting you, spreading your legs for him; the easy show of strength just making you burn that bit hotter, pussy throbbing.

"I've been waiting far too long for this." Touya sighs softly, the leaking tip of his cock teasing your wet folds, rubbing against your sensitive clit. "Don't worry, Princess, I'll give you exactly what you want."

He pushes in slowly, but completely, and your mind is gone, moaning long and low at the perfect stretch, trembling with how full you are all at once, as he splits you open on his cock, carving out a space within you just for him.

Tears roll down your cheek and he just licks it right up with a smile as he grinds into you, making you adjust to his size, before slowly pulling back.

"Mm, you feel as good as you taste." He punctuates his point with a deep thrust that drags a choked moan out of your throat as you take every inch of his cock.

Cerulean eyes lock on yours as Touya's mouth opens with a snarl to reveal gleaming fangs.

It's all the warning you get before his fangs puncture your skin once more, flooding your senses with that heady mix of pain and ecstasy.

You arch into Touya's touch as best you can without ripping your own throat open. "Fuuuck~" you whine, high and breathy, nails dragging down his arms for something to ground you, feet kicking out involuntarily as you clench around him. All at once, it's too much, too fast, but you might actually cry if he tries to stop. Your skin feels like it's on fire, your very blood lava; body and senses overwhelmed in the best way.

A growl rumbles in Touya's chest, almost a purr, as he drinks his fill, groaning low in his throat as his tongue presses against where his fangs have pierced skin and you almost sob at the pleasure-pain before clenching down rhythmically on his hot length, trying to coax him into fucking you; the only thing holding you back from bouncing yourself on the vampire's cock, the fangs in your throat.

"Touya~!", you whimper, squirming in the vampire's strong hold and shuddering when his cock drags against your walls, fucking you slow and deep.

Soon enough, Touya has you shaking and sobbing out sweet, little tortured sounds, and he laps them up too.

Noticing the sounds getting weaker, he pulls back, healing the wound with a lick, peppering bruising, open mouthed kisses down your neck, to your shoulder, before immediately biting down there as he snaps his hips forward, slamming his cock into you, so he can watch you throw your head back in pleasure as he grinds in deep.

"Oh, fuck—" , you sob, clawing at his back. "Move. Please, please, fuck me—"

His eyes widen as he removes his fangs and seals to wound, looking at you in a mix of curiosity and wonder.

Should prey be this receptive?

Though, he doesn't really care. All he knows is that he can't get enough of the sight of you, debauched and pretty, speared on his cock, begging to be fucked stupid.

He grins, sharp and bloody.

"Fuck, such a good girl for me, aren't you?" He coos, fucking into you steadily, pace gradually speeding up, rumbling as you moan and cry out.

"Mm, good. So good. So so good. Fuck yes, yes, yes—ahn—feels so good, Touya. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," you babble and chant, almost slurring, and neither of you know if it's from blood loss or just lust, but fuck you never want it to end. "Use me, drain me, kill me, I don't care, just fuck me, please~"

Touya lets out a surprised laugh at that, looking at you in bewildered awe, idly wondering if he overdid it, or if you're just that much of a little freak, and he feels some of his control slip, hitting your sweet spot perfectly.

You let out a sobbing moan as you try to meet his thrusts, but you asked to be used, so with the speed and strength of the vampire, you're soon left a drooling and twitching mess as you're used as nothing more than a fuck toy.

Touya's plan was to spoil you, take it nice and easy on his new little human, but you turned out to be such an adorable slut.

You asked, so sweetly to be used. How could he say no?

So, used you were.

"I'll use you all you want, but I won't kill you. I won't break my pretty new toy, Dolly, I'm keeping you.", he growls, and you feel like you're going to be branded with the heat of his bruising grip on your ass where he holds you spread for him as he fucks brutally into you like the beast he is, plunging into the deepest parts of you; your clothed breasts bouncing with every thrust, the filthy sounds of your sloppy hole filling the night air.

And like the fucking freak you are, you giggle, even as you pant for an ounce of breath, even as tears stream down your cheeks from feeling so fucking good.

Your pleasure builds and builds, and you're so close.

Touya feels it in your twitching insides, groaning. "You gonna cum for me, baby? Such a good slut for me, gonna cum from a monster's cock, huh?", his thrusts, still at that ruthless pace, are becoming uneven as he pounds into you.

You just nod desperately, and cock-dumb, your voice hoarse, panting and moaning like a whore, you beg, "Mhm, want your cum. Fill me up please, please, please—", as your hole greedily clenches around him rhythmically, like you're trying to milk it out of him.

"Fuck, cum for me, Angel. I’ll fill you up, mark you as mine." He growls, low and animalistic, all hot pleasure and possession.

Your orgasm is intense as it crashes over you, to the point that you don't even know where it ends. Your eyes roll back, vision turning white, as you gush around him.

The vampire lets out a near feral snarl at the way your cunt clamps down on him, and his fangs bury in your shoulder once more as he cums, thick ropes of cum painting your insides. He drinks in the way you moan as he fucks you through your orgasms, filling you up; the mess between your legs splattering every time he pumps into you, the white of it obscene in the dark of night.

He finally slows down to a grind, lapping at the bite carefully so it can heal, before looking you over and finding you barely conscious.

Coming down from your high, your breathing is laboured and you can't see straight, eyes lidded and hazy, yet you still have an adorably stupid grin on your lips.

He tilts your chin, luminous eyes piercing through you as he pants. "You're mine now. You understand that, yes?" His gaze remains trained on yours as his tongue darts out to lick up the few drops of blood that remain on his lips. The icy fire burning in Touya's eyes threatens to consume you whole, your body trembling under his touch as you nod and let out a breathy, fucked out little, "Uh huh", because it's all you can manage at the moment, your cunt pulsing around him.

"You will be a good pet and not let any other human lay their filthy hands on you, hm?" He rumbles, grinding into you, his fingers digging into your flesh.

"I'm yours." You moan, high and breathy, slurring. You want nothing more than to be owned, body and soul, by this man.

"That's my girl." With blood smeared on his lips, he grins, fangs glinting in the moonlight as he pulls out, letting you feel the mess that spills down your thighs and the delicious ache pulsing through you from being so thoroughly used.

You decided to play with fire, and Touya is more than happy to brand you as his.

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We win yet again gang

Dabi, Shigaraki, Sukuna 💀

Who the top 3 anime husbands in your camera roll/ most downloads? 😉

Mine are Trafalgar Law, Overhaul and Dabi 🤭

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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.

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Todoroki Touya | Dabi

Y'all don't pop grapes like candy??? I can quite literally just sit there with a popcorn sized bowl and feast

Just straight up gorging on it

i write for myself not for comments but dear god getting comments does so remind me of the joy of writing and sharing something