Toji Forgot To Prepare Christmas Gift For Ya, But He Always Knows What To Gift Instead - Himself ♥

Toji forgot to prepare Christmas gift for ya, but he always knows what to gift instead - himself ♥ Been stresfull lately, so couldn't finish this work as I wanted to, but didn't want to drop it, so here it is. Hope you guys are doing great! ♥ P.S - FULL on my EVIL twitter account hehe

Sacrifice The World (Never You)

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Summary: "A hero would sacrifice you to save the world. But I'm not a hero."

Pairing: Dabi/Hero!Reader, Hawks & Reader are friends

Reader can be read as gen

Content Warning: Angst, Betrayal, Hawks is an ass off screen, SFW, Mild use of Y/N, H/N means Your Hero Name

Word Count: 2.8k

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Kohei Horikoshi

A/N: This is for a Weekly Challenge in one of the Communities I'm in here on Tumblr, based on the summary. Tweaked the quote a bit, hope you enjoy! 💖

My Masterlist

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Being the same age as Hawks, and new to the hero scene, you navigated being new heroes together.

Your childhood best friend should be here with you, by your side, being heroes together because it's what you promised, but he'd died years ago in a fire, so now you carry out both your dreams for him too.

You've been friends with Hawks for years, getting to know him only a few months after his debut.

And though you say friends, you will admit that there were some...feelings...at the start, because really, who could blame you? Of course, that crush was quickly snuffed out with him clearly solely focused on the job, with occasional random hookups, and as time went on, it disgusts you to even consider him as anything more.

He's a walking red flag, literally, with those wings, but he's your friend, your first best friend in a long time, and you know he feels the same.

You know he works directly for the Commission, even with his own agency, after they helped him so much, but you've always been wary of them. As a freelance hero, who doesn't take their orders as much as those directly aligned with them or other Hero Agencies would, they don't exactly like you either, especially with how close you are with their golden boy.

And while that isn't really much to be totally wary of them, seeing Hawks' real smile and morals dwindling over the years, is; because it's almost always after he comes back from a sketchy secret mission assigned to him from them.

So of course, you start digging where you shouldn't, because you're worried for your friend, worried for what he's becoming.

You find out that he's been ordered to kill someone, not even a villain, no.

A politician.

They apparently got on the HPSC's bad side, and now Hawks is being ordered to get them out of the picture.

That's the tipping point for you, when you stop trusting them, when you start questioning them more, their ways, their morals, their orders.

And unbeknownst to you, when they start questioning your loyalty.

*****

Recently, Hawks has been....distant. Cagey, in ways he usually wasn't, even when he had the most top secret missions.

Normally, one wouldn't be able to tell the difference, but after knowing him for so long, it's easy to spot.

You find out the reason from an unexpected source.

*****

Dabi knew the bird was a spy from the moment they met.

It was pathetically obvious.

But, well, he thought he could be useful.

Not without doing some background checks of course. Name, birthday, parents, affiliations.

Friends.

It's how he finds out about you, beautiful and achingly familiar, and one of Hawks' closest friends.

He stomps down on the flare of jealousy at that, reminding himself that that boy died years ago on that hill, reminding himself that you probably don't even remember him.

Getting someone to hack into the HPSC files, he further looks into Hawks and his movements, what missions he has, your missions, what they have on you and oh.

He thought he was at the peak of his anger towards Heroes, towards the Commission, towards Society.

He thought that the person he hates most in the world would always be his father.

He finds out that the HPSC president, and perhaps Hawks himself, are competing for that position.

Hawks is absolutely a spy, his mission to infiltrate and eliminate the League clear as day in his files, along with something else that makes his seams smoke with the heat of his anger.

The HPSC president deems you a threat, and has ordered your elimination, with Hawks being the one to carry it out.

Seething, he combs through their files, finding and collecting more and more information on the HPSC, and even then, he honestly doesn't know which one of their crimes you know about, which one has you suspected, has them wanting to silence you.

There's so many, it could be anything.

And then, he finds your file.

There are notes about your 'drifting loyalties', notes about what information they suspect you know, your schedule, and then...

The order for your assassination, along with the date and location they expect it to happen.

The very system and people that you've devoted your life to are the ones that would dare betray you, betray your trust; would try to abandon you, throwing you away like trash.

He refuses to sit back and let the best thing that's ever happened to him get snuffed out and tossed away like trash.

And hey, maybe you'd like the idea of becoming villains together instead.

*****

When you get home from a long patrol, all you want to do is shower, eat and sleep like the dead.

Those plans go out the window the moment you step foot into your apartment and feel someone is there.

You scan the dark room silently, not seeing anything at first. Then, a flicker of light; a small flame shines in the darkness, lighting up the features of a man on your couch.

Yes, a flame.

A blue flame.

Blue flames that are hauntingly familiar for multiple reasons, but one of those reasons is literally dead, so the remaining ones are terrifying.

The villain Dabi is sitting on your couch, so very casually, as he plays with the licks of fire between his fingers, the light of it illuminating his features eerily, casting shadows and making his eyes seem to glow as they stare at you.

A bead of sweat trickles down the side of your head.

Yes, you are a hero, a damn good one, at that.

That doesn't mean you're prepared to fight the A-rank villain, tired and alone, in an enclosed area, within a populated apartment building.

You swallow thickly, reminding yourself that you need to be calm.

Seeing as he already knows you're there, you flick on the lights.

"Dabi. What do you want?" You try to keep your voice steady and the tremor out of it as you speak, and you don't know if you succeed, as you slowly walk forward.

"Well hello to you too, H/N." He says sarcastically, his voice smoky and deep,

"Come sit, yeah? We need to have a lil chat."

Before you can think about it, you scoff, glaring at him warily. "And what could we, possibly have to talk about?"

Huffing a dry laugh, he raises his hand, waving a folder. "Sit and you'll find out."

This is such a bad idea, but honestly, what choice do you have?

Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself, sitting on the opposite side.

For a moment, he doesn't say anything, just staring at you, making you start to get more and more nervous and impatient.

Just as you were about to snap, you hear him murmur softly, almost sadly, "You really don't recognize me, huh?"

Taken aback, you stutter, "W-What?"

Running his fingers through his midnight hair, he mutters, "Well, I was hoping that you of all people would recognize your best friend, Y/N."

Azure eyes lock onto your wide ones as you freeze in place.

You've only had two best friends all your life, and one is dead.

Though, you never truly accepted that, did you?

Your hands shake, tears blurring your vision as you look at the man in front of you. Really look at him.

At the scars in some specific places, some from burns, some not.

At the way he taps his foot nervously.

At those blue eyes, the same color as Endeavor's, yet so different, so pretty, so achingly familiar.

When you take a closer look at his dark hair, and you can see white roots peaking out, that's what bursts the dam.

"Touya?" Your voice is fragile as you ask tentatively, hopefully; a small tremor in your voice as you gaze at him with teary eyes, and Dabi feels his heart crack.

"Yeah, Doll, it's me." He breathes, opening arms because he knows what's coming. And he's right, as you lunge forward, tackling him in a hug as you sob into his shoulder. He grips you just as tight, burying his face in your hair, hugging you tightly. And oh, how you missed his hugs, completely engulfing you in that comforting warmth.

You sob and scream at him, words muffled by his shoulder, but he just holds you through it.

And when you're done, minutes or hours later, you pull back, sitting next to him.

You need answers.

"What the fuck, Touya?" Your voice is croaky and broken from all the crying, and he chuckles lightly as he wipes away the lingering tears.

"I go by Dabi now." There's a shit eating grin threatening to be released but he manages to hold it in to spare himself of your wrath.

You glare at him through glossy eyes, biting out, "Yeah, no shit. Explain."

He sighs, thumb caressing your cheekbone as he avoids your eyes. "I'll explain everything another day. Right now, I need you to read this." He pulls back, reaching for the folder you completely forgot about, and hands it to you.

You look at him with furrowed brows as you open it, before looking down to read.

You fall silent as you read, breathing picking up as the papers crinkle in your tight grip.

"Touya, where'd you find this?" You whisper shakily, eyes flicking back up to him.

"....You know where." His voice is gentle, and somehow that makes it worse.

You swallow around the lump in your throat as you stare back down at the orders written for your winged best friend to kill you.

He wouldn't.

Would he?

You know him to be loyal to the Commission, to the president, but you also know him to be a loyal friend.

Taking a deep breath, you let it out slowly.

You'd give him the benefit of the doubt.

When you say this, of course, Dabi isn't pleased.

"And what if he actually tries to kill you? You know how much of a lap dog he is." He says through gritted teeth, trying to control his anger at the thought of you even being near Hawks.

"I....he's my friend, Tou....has been for years....I have to believe I mean more to him than an order." You try to convince yourself that you absolutely trust that he wouldn't go through with this, would warn you at the very least.

Touya scoffs in disbelief, looking at your like you're stupid, before sighing in resignation. "Okay...if that's what you want. But if he tries, or if you just change your mind, call me." He slips you a piece of paper, presumably with his number on it. "I missed ya, so if you want, you can join me in the League. They'd love you."

You sputter in surprise, looking at him with wide, incredulous eyes. "I'm a hero, Dabi."

He looks at you flatly. "Yeah, but for how long until they either kill you or revoke your license? They want to get rid of you, Y/N. Because you know they're corrupt. So, we'll just take them down."

You're on the verge of crying again, and he could see it.

"We couldn't be heroes together, so how 'bout villains?" His smile is cheeky but genuine as he tries to lighten the mood, softening when it works, as you choke out a wet laugh.

"Just, think about, yeah?" Leaning in, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead and you feel yourself flush with warmth.

With that, he leaves the way he apparently entered. Through the window, down the fire escape.

Left alone with your thoughts, you doubt you'd get any sleep tonight.

*****

Every day since then, you've been withdrawing as much money from your account as you can without seeming suspicious, transferring the rest to another account; and with a go bag packed and ready for the worst case scenario, you stew in your anxiety as the days go by.

The date of your scheduled assassination is tomorrow, and you've yet to speak to Hawks.

You tell yourself that it's normal, because it is; you've had longer periods of time than this of not speaking to each other with the cluttered messes that are your schedules.

What isn't normal, is that if he was going to say anything, he would've by now.

You can't exactly just ask Hawks about it, as you have no way of explaining how you know, and no way of truly knowing that he wouldn't just kill you on the spot.

Because as much as you like and trust him as a friend, you've never felt that the feeling is as mutual. Like, sure he likes you enough as a friend, but would he go against orders from the HPSC for you?

You don't know, and that scares you.

So you do all you can at the moment, without outright running.

You wait.

If he tries to contact you, trying to get you to go to that specified spot tomorrow, you'll know, and you'll already have a way out with Dabi and the League; because otherwise, the truth is, there's no future for you.

Because even if you survive this, you'd have to go into hiding anyway, or they'll just try again, or ruin your life, revoking your license, everything, or just straight up frame you and toss you into Tartarus, throwing away the key.

So many bad outcomes.

Yet, naively, you hope.

*****

Then, you get a text from Hawks, asking you to hang out tomorrow, at the location.

And your heart cracks, because someone you care about, someone you trusted, has decided that your life is worth less than their job or morals.

And then you get angry.

*****

You quickly gather your things, all of your necessities packed and ready to go in a duffel bag and backpack, and contact Dabi for pickup on a burner phone.

And as the swirling portal opens up in your living room, you send off one last text to Hawks, replying with a short "Fuck you :)", on your personal phone of course, before dropping it into the prepared glass of acid, so they can't get anything off of it or track you, right next to the files Dabi gave you, and stepping through the mist.

Straight into Dabi's waiting arms.

*****

After meeting the League, you decide that you already like them, though wish you met under better circumstances.

Such as one of your best friends decidedly not trying to kill you.

For the corrupt government, no less!

And through all of the blazing anger and newfound hatred, when it's just you and Dabi left, you cry.

He softly cups your face in his scarred hands, gently tilting your head up to hold your gaze as he wipes away your tears. "The heroes would dare make a martyr of you, sacrifice you and throw you away like trash for this fucked up world." He says lowly, voice trembling with the anger that burns like small suns in his azure eyes. He leans in closer, warm breath hitting your lips, murmuring, "But I'm no hero, doll. I'd raze the world if it meant you'd be warm." His words drip with reverence, eyes blazing with the truth of his words, and you tremble where you stand.

Because as a hero, the threat and promise of such violence should horrify you.

But as just a person, who's never known true loyalty shown to you in so long, who's been betrayed and abandoned by all those you've loved and trusted, in the past and recently, being shown such devotion, no matter how tainted, how violent, by the one person you've always loved most, it is irristibly bewitching.

And before you know it, you're pulling him down into a bruising kiss, breathing out all of your doubts and worries, and he swallows them all down with a sigh of contentment, sliding one hand from your cheek, down to your waist, pulling you in closer.

To anyone else, you'd seem foolish to put any amount of trust in a villain of all people, after being burned by betrayal so many times by people they'd deem 'better'.

But they've all let you down, and Touya, Dabi, is not them, so why not try the other side?

It's a sacrifice you're actually willing to make this time.

Pulling back, you whisper against his mismatched lips.

"Let's raze everything."

His answering grin is feral and bright, and worth the sacrifice that is the world.

The very world that made the mistake of throwing you both away.

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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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