Hey, This Is The Same Anon From Valentine's Day! Sorry To Bother You Again, But Did You Get My Second

Oh my god I wanna bite them they're so cuuuuttteee 🥺🥺

I deadass choked on my water

Holy fuck ruin me plz and thx

My half of an art trade with @itsmattibad who did the lines and I did the coloring.

NSFW version over on Twitter!

Happy Halloween!

It's what we deserved 🤧

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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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Deck the Halls

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[NSFW] ‼ 18+ >MDNI<

Summary: You have a lot of fun decorating for Christmas

Pairing: Dabi/Fem Reader

Content Warning: Smut, Christmas Sex, Begging, Dacryphilia, Edging, Overstimulation, Creampie, Multiple Orgasms, Dom/Sub Undertones, Touya's a bit mean but we love it lol

Word Count: 1.1k

Disclaimer: Character belongs to Kohei Horikoshi

A/N: This is the 3rd part of 12 fics for a 12 Days of Christmas event. Enjoy and Happy Holidays!

My Masterlist

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"Don't drop the ornament, Dolly~" Touya taunts with a hot whisper in your ear, his front pressed up against your back. Two fingers curl inside your cunt sharply and trembles wrack through your body, his other arm wrapped around your torso and cupping your breast beneath your shirt, squeezing and kneading it while holding you in place.

"I'm trying!" You whine, grinding your hips down to chase more pleasure, only to whimper pathetically when you're denied it. In your distraction, the little plastic snowflake-shaped ornament in your grasp slips, clattering against the floor when long fingers suddenly press against your sweet spot.

He tuts and sighs, "You dropped it, sweetheart.", stilling his movements but keeping his fingers stuffed inside you.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to~" You cry, sweat sliding down your forehead and cunt clenching around the digits. "Please, please, I'm good, I've been good."

"Mm, I don't know about that. You've only managed six ornaments on the tree. You have twenty total, though I suppose nineteen now. Do you really think that's good?" He heckles, tracing shapes into your sweat-damp skin with blunt nails.

"Mmn, 'm sorry, 'm sorry, please, I wanna be good for you." You simper, legs trembling as you reach a shaky hand out to take another ornament.

"Hmm, we'll see." He hums, tone all mocking amusement as his thumb rubs firm circles into your clit, without moving his other fingers.

You whine and shake and moan, but you try your best.

It takes another half hour before you're finished hanging the ornaments, all while trying to concentrate, but not as well as you'd like.

The second ornament to slip and fall is a pretty little angel, when he scissors his fingers within you, stretching you out

The third is an adorable reindeer, falling when he abruptly curls his fingers right up against your sweet spot again, while sucking a mark into the junction between your neck and shoulder.

The fourth, you no longer care what it is, drops and bounces away when he gives a hard pinch to your nipple while simultaneously playing with your sensitive clit.

And each time, you apologize tearfully, and each time he tuts and mocks you, licking up your salty tears.

All that time, for almost an hour, he never lets you cum once. Every time he noticed you were close, he'd stop his movements or pull out, and every time, you'd cry and beg so prettily for him.

You manage to put the last ornament on the tree with trembling limbs, sighing shakily as you look at it through tear blurred vision.

He's been edging you, playing with you, for so long that you feel like you're going to shatter if you don't get to cum soon, if he doesn't fuck you soon.

He coos at your glassy eyes peering back at him, chuckling when your lips wobble. "Please?" Your voice is broken and so very sweet as you plea with him for anything, for everything, and he buries his face into your neck, sighing against you there. "Alright baby, you tried your best, I know." He presses a kiss to your flushed skin as he slips his fingers out of you, fully removing his hand from your pants, and you can't help the small whine that escapes you at the prominent emptiness.

Turning you to face him, he captures your lips in a slow languid kiss that makes your legs jelly and your pussy throb.

Your fingers tangle in his snowy hair, tugging and pulling him as close as possible, trying to melt into him, and he allows it, warm hands gripping your hips, keeping you close.

He trails kisses down your throat as he guides you down to the floor, onto the tree rug beneath the Christmas tree, laying you out like the gift you are.

And like a gift, he tears off whatever hides you from view, opening you up and admiring what he was blessed with.

He slides in slowly, seeming to want to still tease you even now, and all you could do is take whatever he decides to give. Because no matter your sweet pleas of more, harder, faster, he'd just swallow your words with a deep kiss, murmuring against your lips, "You shouldn't have dropped them, hm Dolly?"

He fucks you slow and deep under the colourful Christmas tree, trailing kisses wherever his hot mouth can reach, admiring the pretty colours of the Christmas lights dancing across your face and shining in your glossy eyes.

You cum with a sob, your sensitive walls pulsing around him, dragging him over the edge with you and he paints your insides white with a deep groan.

Chest shuddering as you try to catch your breath, you gaze up at him dazedly, before dragging him down into a flithy kiss; licking into his mouth when he allows it.

His cock barely begins to soften from his orgasm when you feel him twitch to full hardness again, grinding into you.

Gasping at the overstimulation to your sensitive cunt, you drag your nails down his back. "Touya wait—" your words are cut off with a choked moan when he pulls back, leaving just the head inside, before shoving back in with a hard thrust.

"Aww, you thought we were done baby?" He coos, licking up the tear trickling down your cheek. You look up at him with glazed eyes, lips parted on a silent moan and shaking as he rolls his hips, grinding against your sweet spot.

"You dropped four ornaments, silly girl." He murmurs, brows furrowed in fake disappointment, his hand cupping your cheek, thumb brushing your cheekbone, wiping away a stray tear. "So you need to let me see your pretty pussy cry for me four times, yeah?" His grin is sharp as he punctuates his words with a thrust, chuckling lowly at the way your expression crumbles into bliss.

The overstimulation hurts deliciously, the pain and pleasure melting into one as he picks up his pace, fucking into you hard and fast just like you begged earlier.

In the dancing, colourful lights, he looks like art. His hair and staples shine in different colours, his eyes glow, with their intensity and his smile is feral and mean and beautiful.

By the time he's done with you, your vision is just a blur of colours, with the most prominent one being the burning blue of his eyes.

Your apartment is nicely adorned with holiday decor of all kinds and colours, the tree being the last to be decorated, and you drift off to sleep right there; half under the faux tree with a dopey, fucked out smile, naked and debauched covered in sweat, slick and sticky cum.

You did hope for a white Christmas after all.

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Me wanting to text and talk to my mutuals:

My social anxiety:

Chat

Chat I think I've been cursed by a hater.

Lemme put it this way.

I have bad skin. A form of eczema.

I usually get it on my face and neck, occasionally elsewhere like a patch on my arms or something.

Now.

My faves are Dabi and Shiggy.

And they combined to irritate my skin.

It itches.

EXACTLY where Dabi's burns are. Under my eyes, my cheeks, down my neck and chest.

Now I'm resisting the urge to scratch. Like Tomura.

Chat I cannot make this up.

Send help.

Oh!

Winter Asks

cold - have you ever tried archery?

chill - have you ever had a secret admirer?

snow - are you a good judge of character?

holidays - do you have a strong accent?

fireplace - what’s your favourite accent?

frost - what’s your most expensive piece of clothing?

dark - whats your favourite meal?

cozy - list your fandoms and one character from each that you identify with?

snowman - do you like your name? is there another that would fit you better?

icicle - are you an artist?

cocoa - would you say that tumblr is a fair representation of the real you?

ice - do you want to be a parent?

skating - what subject were you best at in school?

gift - are you easily embarrassed?

pine - how was your day today?

candles - do you sing to yourself?

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Pretty (Like Nothing Else)

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[NSFW] ‼ 18+ >MDNI<

Summary: You think everything about Dabi is very pretty and you don't really know what to do with yourself.

Dabi gets all the love and praise he deserves, and you get a surprise.

Pairing: Dabi/F!Reader

Content Warnings: Smut, Vaginal Sex, Fingering, Oral (Both), Dacryphilia, Praise Kink, Light Choking, Creampie, Body Worship, Light Dom/Sub, Submissive Top Dabi, Power Bottom Reader, Dabi has Genital Piercings, Minimal Use of Y/N

Word Count: 9.8k

Disclaimer: Character belongs to Kohei Horikoshi

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

We Dabi Simps gotta eat ♡

My Ao3 is the same username if you wanna go there

My Masterlist

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Joining the League of Villains was interesting to say the least. The lineup a teen vampire yandere, the most unhinged guy you've ever met keeping it together by a paper bag and a thread, a magician, a woman with a magnet the size of her attempted murder record, a Stain fanboy, a crusty gamer and of course a crispy frankenstein of a man held together with staples and spite.

They're all interesting to a degree, and all annoying to a degree, but Dabi is a special type of annoying. Always with a quip or retort to anything you say, always with an insult at the tip of his tongue, always with a way to get under your skin.

These make up most of your interactions with him and it makes your skin itch in irritation and annoyance, and your fingers twitch with the urge to wrap around that scarred neck and just squeeze.

Until it doesn't.

Until he's getting under your skin in another way.

A distinct underlying heat that matches his flames, making your skin itch with the urge to be soothed under calloused fingertips and mismatched lips, and your fingers twitch with the urge to instead touch and caress; the want to feel the contrast of soft skin and rough scars.

Dabi is a special type of annoying, but recently you've been having a hard time remembering that sometimes. This being one of those times.

You're all drinking in the bar, half blowing off steam, half celebrating not getting caught after a semi successsful job, though you and Dabi don't drink like the others, what with Dabi's quirk, as fire and alcohol definitely don't mix, and you just don't like the feeling of your focus being that distant.

And though Dabi isn't drinking as much, he's still playing a game of cards with Compress, Spinner, Twice and Magne, with Toga spectating for the most part, blood bag in hand with a straw, while Kurogiri is shining his glasses behind the bar counter and Shigaraki is in a corner booth on his switch. You're having fun all the same, especially with Twice and Spinner as drunk entertainment, drink in hand.

Deep laughter echoes out, rich, raspy and soot tinted, even over the uproarous laughter of the others, and your breath catches in your throat as you take in the sound and the scene.

Dabi, shining, azure eyes lidded and crinkled at the edges, and piercings and staples glinting in the low light, pulling taut with the wide smile curling mismatched lips. Head thrown back and neck a long line of rough scars that you want to lick and sink your teeth into, chest rising and falling with the breathy amusement.

Dragging your eyes away, you finish your drink and get another one because you weren't expecting to be thinking like that about Dabi of all people. Not expecting to think he looks pretty.

You ignore the lingering image of Dabi's smile burned into the back of your eyelids.

*****

It's after another half successful mission, when the thought comes back to you.

Trench coat folded in half and thrown over the back of the armchair beside him, Dabi stands talking with Compress, arms crossed. It makes the muscles in his scarred forearms flex a bit, the silver tungsten rings that decorate his fingers glint in the dim lighting. The pale, unmarred bit of his left cheek has a thin gash and unruly black hair frames his face imperfectly perfect.

The dark scarring beneath his eyes and the furrow of his brows make the pretty cerulean blue seem to burn that bit brighter, and his shirt is torn in some places.

He reeks of blood, sweat and smoke and you want to kiss him.

And oh.

You like Dabi.

And you don't know what to do with that.

*****

Later that week, sat on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phone, you don't really pay the League members milling around much mind.

That is, until you catch the disctinct sound of Dabi's bootfalls on the wood of the floor.

Not really meaning to, your eyes dart up and around until they land on him. And what a sight it was.

His head tipped back, arms raised above his head with his fingers interlaced, tilted a bit to his left and back in a stretch as he walks, allows for glorious things to happen.

Such as his belt not doing its job, causing his dark jeans to hang low on narrow hips, the waistband of his boxers peeking out. Loose, black tshirt ridden up exposes a sharp V line, which emphasizes prominent hip bones and frames a thin, pale happy trail, the dip of his navel, and a hint of abs, which flex along with the muscles in his arms.

You follow your self preservation insticts telling you to sink your teeth into your bottom lip and turn away, because something would've come out, all of which embarrassing.

Drool? A gasp? A moan? A....request? Who knows, all were possible options.

*****

The League is lounging around the bar again, some talking, some scrolling through their phones silently.

You and Dabi, sat beside each other, were a part of the latter category.

Deciding you need a distraction from the heady scent of smoke and strawberry lollipop and the image of Dabi's lips wrapped around said lollipop, you settle on listening to music.

Getting your pair of tangled earphones out of your hoodie pocket, you begin the careful, infuriating mission of untangling them without making it worse or bursting the wire.

Brows furrowed in concentration, you struggle for a minute, before it's snatched out of your hands.

"Wha—" you start, eyes snapping over to Dabi, but is quickly distracted when he pulls out the lollipop from his mouth, lips catching and lingering on it for a moment, before letting go with a quiet 'pop'.

"That was....one of the saddest things I've ever witnessed." Dabi says, expression a mix of pitying and amused.

Your brain takes a moment to reboot before you process that Dabi is now untangling the cord for you, lollipop back in his mouth, poking out his cheek.

Drawing in a breath, you begin to ask, "Why—"

"Shh. T'was sad.", was Dabi's slightly slurred reply, the lollipop affecting his speech.

You, in your confused, horny loss of words, look down in a slight daze at where Dabi's slender, pretty, dexterous fingers, decorated in his pretty rings and painted nails, meticulously work through the knots and tangles in your earphones, and your mind wanders.

And after, when your untangled earphones are returned to you, and you mutter out a thanks, plugging it in, music now blaring in your ears, all you could think about was the contrast of Dabi's strawberry red stained top lip and scarred bottom lip, how they looked wrapping back around the lollipop, how they would taste, and how his pretty, pretty fingers would look and feel on your tongue, around your throat, on your skin and inside of you.

*****

What you don't know, or even consider, is that Dabi watches you from the corner of his eye, entralled gaze dragging from your pretty eyes shining from the phone screen to the small pout of your lips, to the line of your neck and the tips of your hair brushing against your ears.

*****

Remember when you said Dabi was a special type of annoying but it was hard to remember sometimes? Yeah, this is not one of those times.

You planned to sit peacefully binging one of your favourite shows in your room, as the rest of the League were all out doing whatever they did when they weren't at the bar and didn't have a mission.

All except Dabi.

"I think that's my shirt."

Stepping out of your bathroom, towel draped over your head, you startle at the unexpected, familiar voice of Dabi in your previously empty room.

Eyes snapping up to see him lounging on your small couch like it's his, his coat thrown over the back, you roll your eyes before the words process.

You pause, then look down at the white t-shirt you'd just thrown on without looking too hard. Blinking, you pull at the hem of the shirt, realizing it's a bit baggier than usual, before looking back up at Dabi with an awkward tilt to your lips.

Now aware, the shirt hangs low enough to show your collarbone and shoulder.

"Oh." You say, sheepish.

You feel your face burn and hopes it doesn't show as prominently as it feels.

Dabi's expression slowly shifting into a smirk takes your hope out back and shoots it dead.

"S'fine." He shrugs, smirk still in place, tugging lightly at his staples, eyes lazily dragging over your exposed collarbone and shoulder, then down to where the hem of the shirt reaches just below your black shorts. "Keep it, looks good."

You short circuit for a moment, before flushing.

You walk over to your nightstand, slipping on a pair of flipflops, and grab your brush, grumbling to hopefuly distract from your flustered state, "What are you even doing here?"

"I'm bored." he grins, cheeky and adorable, and you have to turn away, fighting to not flush even more.

You brush out whatever tangles you have in your hair, before tying it in a low, loose bun, strands at the sides framing your face, all while ignoring the eyes you can feel on your skin and the goosebumps that raise there in response.

Dabi sits up when you gesture for him to move over and you sit in relatively comfortable silence, the sounds from the show on the television filling the space, with Dabi scrolling through his phone, occasionally glancing up at the TV screen.

Which would be fine if his presence wasn't so fucking distracting, to the point that the only reason you even have an inkling of what the fuck is going on is that you've seen this show before.

He's in his usual loose, white tshirt, jeans and boots, nails seemingly freshly painted a shiny, sleek black, rings adorning his pretty fingers, chain hung low around his neck, pendant disappearing beneath the tshirt between toned pecs. The end of his belt hangs between his spread legs, right arm stretched out along the back of the couch behind you, fingers silently tapping a pattern, phone in his left hand, elbow on the armrest and he smells of smoke and sandalwood.

You never thought you'd be jealous of the end of a belt, yet here you are.

You try your best to not tense or outwardly show any of your thoughts, which is distracting, and so you don't see the fucking beetle flying towards you until it's directly in front of your face, so of course you screech, which then causes the sexy fucker to laugh at you, as you swat it away; the little shit thankfully flying out of your room.

Your eyes stay trained on where it left as the sound of Dabi's laughter washes over you. His laugh is rough and smokey and pretty, just like the rest of him, and you can't help but feel warm and gooey at the sound even though you're the one being laughed at.

"Damn, didn't know all it took to spook ya was a tiny bug." The asshole says, snickering.

You turn away from where the bug flew out to Dabi, to glare at him, because that fucker was not tiny, thank you very much, only to have to use all your willpower to not immediately combust on the spot, because he's smirking enough to show off sharp canines, eyes lidded and on you. He looks smug, and it's infuriating, and it's pretty, and you wants those teeth sunk into your throat.

That last thought has you subconciously chewing on your lip, fingers twisting and pulling at each other.

You roll your eyes, fighting back your blush with a broom at this point, but whatever you were going to say gets caught in your throat when Dabi leans over and grabs your wrist, phone now in his lap.

His touch is heated, almost burning, but you don't say anything as Dabi tugs your hands away from each other, examining it with an unreadable expression.

"You really gotta stop doin' that, Doll." He tilts his head down to inspect your fingers, then looks back up at you through his lashes, eyes electric.

The tips of your ears burn as you clench your jaw, lest you gape.

You swallow thickly and Dabi's eyes dart down to your throat at the movement, an odd glint in his eyes that makes you feel like prey in the best of ways. The thought makes you flush even harder, to the point where you can feel the warmth of the blush reach all the way down your neck, below the baggy tshirt.

Given the way he slowly drags his eyes down the column of your neck before tracing your collarbone with his gaze, Dabi notices too.

He licks his lips before glancing up to meet your eyes with what appears to be uncertainty, hesitating for a moment.

Your breath stutters in your chest, pulse beneath Dabi's fingertips racing as you see him begin to slowly lean in, but he's interrupted by the door of the room slamming open.

You yank your hand away from Dabi as if you'd been scorched, turning sharply to the door.

"Y/N~!" Toga sings, skipping into the room. "Wanna come play games with us?~"

"Um, no thanks, Toga, not now. I'm in the middle of something." You force out, gesturing to the TV screen, taking a breath and willing your blush to go away.

"Aww, please~?" Toga pouts. "We're all playing! Even Dabi! Right, Dabi?" She turns her puppy eyes to him, to which he looks at her flatly.

"No."

"Booo~" Her cheeks puff

"Maybe later." You mutter, taking a glance at Dabi, who's hand is now clenched back around his phone, looking away from you and at his black screen instead, with a neutral expression.

Toga doesn't move for a bit, still pouting at first but then looks between the two of you and her expression turns into something sly.

"...Did I interrupt anything?~"

"No." You answer, a bit too quickly to be convincing, while Dabi scoffs and waves her off. You glance at him, teeth clenched, before quickly looking away, fingers twisting together again.

"You didn't interrupt anythin', Leech." Dabi says plainly, stretching his arms out casually, "I was just teasin' Dolly again. You know how much fun she is to annoy." He snickers and your eyes snap back up, jaw clenched as tight as your chest, cheeks and eyes burning, just a bit.

Oh.

Of course.

Obviously Dabi was just messing with you.

"Get out." You mumble, averting your eyes to the abandoned television, throat just a bit tight, before adding, "Both of you." In the corner of your eye you see something flicker across Dabi's face, something resembling regret if you want to be wishful, but then he clicks his tongue and pushes off the couch.

Grabbing up his coat from the back of the couch, he says, "Come on, Leech. Let's go play." He ruffles her hair as he passes her on his way out the door, left hand stuffed into his pocket, not a glance back.

Toga watches you silently for a second, but relents when you pick up the remote to turn up the volume. "Hmm, okay. Later~!" She says skipping out, thankfully closing the door behind her.

Room once again empty, with no one there to see, you clench your eyes shut, willing the burning to go away.

Dabi's touch had been so warm.

*****

Deciding to put whatever the fuck that was that happened between you and Dabi in a box and lock it up, you eventually make your way out two hours later to join in on Toga's invitation, not bothering to change from earlier, though your hair is now loose again.

You don't join in on the games, choosing to sit at the bar silently, sipping at a glass of something strong and sweet, spinning your stool occasionally as you watch them play.

They drink and play and laugh for a few more hours, before they eventually start filing out, to either go up to their rooms or back to their appartments they might still have, until it's just you at the bar and Dabi coming up behind you, heavy bootfalls the most obvious indicator and you force yourself to not tense at the heat at your back, taking another sip that you no longer taste.

Taking a seat on a stool to your left, long fingers, nails painted black, wrapped around his empty glass, Dabi reaches for the bottle you were drinking from, coincidently the same thing he was drinking before, and pouring himself another glass, and a little more into your own.

"So. What's up?" He takes a sip before continuing at your raised eyebrow. "Been lookin' over all night. Figured you had sometin' to say. So?"

Fuck, were you that obvious? It wasn't even really a conscious effort most of the time.

You avert your eyes and take a sip to avoid talking for a moment and to think of something to say. It's a real shame that being in close proximity to the pretty blue, distracting eyes trained on you and the walking heater they belong to melted your brain cells, so you just settle on, "It's nothing."

You sit in silence for a bit, with Dabi looking at you with an unreadable expression.

After a few minutes, Dabi is the one that breaks the silence. "Listen, 'bout earlier....I didn't mean—" but you cut him off before he can continue, because you don't need to hear that he was just teasing you twice.

"Yeah, I know. I heard you." You mutter, downing the last bit in your glass then reaching for the bottle for more.

Dabi grabs it before you can and sets it farther away from your reach, ignoring the glare sent his way.

"No, I didn't mean that, Doll." Dabi cups your cheek in a warm palm, turning you to face him. Your eyes widen at the look Dabi levels you with. You hide the way your hands tremble at the intensity and focus that drench that look, picking at your fingernails.

"I meant..... I didn't mean that I was just teasin' you. I....was a nervous dumbass and I'm sorry."

You slowly blink at him, trying to process the words that sound like another language to you.

You eventually gather your braincells enough to form a coherant thought and response.

"You......why were you nervous?" You aren't usually hopeful about much things these days, but you couldn't help it in that moment.

Dabi's hand twitches minutely where it still rests on your cheek, and he bites his bottom lip, avoiding your gaze as he seems to consider if he should say. When he glances back at you, whatever he sees in your expression makes his decision for him.

He takes a deep breath and focuses that intense gaze on you once more. Brushing his thumb over your cheekbone, he sighs out, "Because I wanted to kiss you, Sweetheart."

Caught off guard at the bluntness, though you really shouldn't be, it's Dabi, your breath hitches, eyes wide.

Dabi leans in a bit closer as he readjusts his hold on your cheek, other hand coming up to brush stray strands of hair away from your face. Gaze travelling from your eyes to your lips, and back up, he whispers, "Can I kiss you?"

You feel like you can smell sounds and hear colours as your brain reboots. When your brain finally catches up to what you heard, you just nod slowly, almost afraid to speak because you don't know what will come out, and you let yourself be pulled in closer.

Dabi leans in, and just as your lips brush, he hesitates, "Are you sure?"

You almost whimper. "Please"

Warm, mismatched lips, unlike anything you've ever felt before, meet your own in a hesitant, chaste kiss, neither trying to deepen it, just a firm press of lips. But in that moment, it was the best you'd felt in a long while, after wondering what his skin would feel like against yours, and you want to satisfy that burning curiosity to its fill now that you're allowed.

After only a few seconds though, you pull away, not wanting to be greedy. Though you nearly choke on a startled breath, because Dabi has other ideas.

He tugs you back in, hand sliding to the back of your neck and tightening his grip there, fingers tangled in soft strands, other hand sliding down your side to grip at your hip, firmly sealing your lips together, licking and nipping at your bottom lip drawing out a soft gasp from you, and slips a hot tongue into the seam of your lips. Dabi kisses like there's a wildfire writhing beneath his skin. His mouth, like the rest of him, is so unbelieveably hot and he tastes of alcohol, smoke and something sweet and you might just get addicted to that.

Licking into his mouth, you find the stud through Dabi's tongue and can't help the little breathy moan and laughter that pushes out. Held together by staples and he still can't resist adding a few more pretty pieces of metal.

You reach a hand up to wrap your fingers around the scarred wrist, your other hand tangled in and tugging lightly at midnight locs, and Dabi kisses you harder for it.

Calloused fingers create a trail of heat on your skin, up your back, and down your side under the loose shirt, as you pant out a little sigh into his mouth. Teeth nip at your already swollen lips before heated, mismatched lips trail down over your jaw to your sensitive neck, hot tongue laving over your skin, after brushing the hair sitting there back, while a scarred hand reaches up the loose shirt to pinch at your nipple through your bra, drawing out a breathy gasp.

Dabi continues his trail of kisses down to your exposed collarbone, nipping, licking and sucking at the skin, a hickey already forming there on the tender skin, then back up your neck, to your ear, where he nibbles and sucks at the earlobe before whispering huskily, "My room?", all while squeezing your hip and rolling your nipple between his fingers. And something unseen snaps within you as you agree, unable to do anything else, because you would love nothing more.

*****

You stumble your way to Dabi's room, barely able to keep your hands and lips from each other, making it take that bit longer than it should to get there.

Dabi slams and locks the door behind you, before pulling you towards his bed.

Though before Dabi could do anything, you push him back onto the bed with a palm to his chest, making him bounce slightly. Dabi quickly kicks off his boots before crawling backward on his elbows to get comfortable against his pillows, eyes trained on you, as the bed dips as you join him.

You swing your leg over to perch yourself on Dabi's lap, straddling him; your hands cup scarred cheeks, drawing him into a kiss.

Dabi had his turn at your skin, now it was yours.

Slick tongue laving over the scarred bottom lip, your let out a small hum of appreciation at the texture, before licking into his mouth to get more of that addictive taste.

Dabi allows for you to take the lead this time, perfectly content with his hands getting to explore and grope at smooth legs beneath the shorts, as he gets kissed stupid.

You let out a small, breathy moan at the feeling of heated, caloused hands squeezing and caressing your thighs; the contrast of your cool skin and Dabi's warmth making it that bit more prominent, as you grind down into his lap. The hardness you meet and the heated fingers now rubbing your throbbing cunt through your shorts, drag out a muffled whimper from you, as you suck on his tongue.

Dabi groans at the feeling of you grinding against him, tightening his grip on your thigh, hands heating up. Your whimper turns Dabi's brain a bit foggy, the sound going straight to his dick.

You nip at his lips once more before pulling back, a thin string of saliva still connecting you. One glance at lidded, hazed over azure eyes, long, thick lashes, flushed cheeks and shining, kiss swollen lips has you breathing out, "Fuck, so pretty.", before leaning right back in.

The kiss doesn't last as long as you would like, because Dabi pulls back, brows furrowed, blue eyes wide, glossy and gorgeous, and mumbles, "What? I'm not—" His voice is breathy and dazed, right before it hitches as you give a firm roll of your hips and he's so fucking pretty, fucking hell.

You trail kisses down the side of his jaw, to his neck, scars heated and rough, but pleasant and pretty all the same.

Stilling your hips, you raise your head from his neck, your molten gaze meeting liquid sapphires. Voice low and hot in your indignation and reverance, you rasp, "Pretty eyes," you kiss the corner of his eye, "pretty blush," a kiss to his heated cheek, "pretty smile," you kiss the corner of his lips, "pretty scars," a kiss to his scarred jaw, "pretty hands," you press a kiss to his knuckles, lips brushing the rings sitting there, "pretty staples." a kiss to the seam running across the back of his hand, "pretty fingers," a kiss to the pads of his index and middle finger, before letting them slip inside, tongue caressing and wrapping around them as you suck and lave at them.

"Doll—" His voice is all breathy and needy and sweet, and oh so pretty, but it would be even prettier if only—

You release his fingers with a pop, eyes lidded, lips now pressed against the scarred wrist, and murmur, "My name. You've got such a pretty voice too, Dabi. I wanna hear you say my name, baby.", the words pressed into the rough skin like a prayer.

And Dabi melts, not knowing where his confidence and control went, or how and when your positions actually switched, but more than okay with it as the words, and truth and reverance held in your gaze, settle over him like a featherlight blanket of adoration and warmth, and soak into his skin like a soothing balm.

And he obeys; uttering your name like a prayer and a plea, and you understand exactly what he needs as you kiss him slow and soft, savouring and worshipping his taste like that in itself is a deity.

One new thought pops into your mind that never really did before; part retaliation for earlier, part pure arousal and reverance.

'I bet he looks pretty when he cries too.'

Rocking your hips at the thought, you trail your way down the column of his scarred, sensitive throat, nipping, licking and sucking, cool lips pressing kisses into his skin like a stamp; even through his body heat, where your lips even ghost over, feel like a brand, and Dabi groans at your ministrations.

Every brush of your lips and stroke of your tongue is a new prayer.

Your hands trail up and under his loose shirt, cool fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake, as scarred, heated hands grip your hips and pull you flush against each other.

Feeling the heat of him through your clothes as you lick into Dabi's mouth, behind his teeth, you roll your hips against him, wanting another one of those needy little sounds against your tongue.

You get what you want just as your fingers brush against Dabi's nipples, and you now have a need to see more.

Tugging at the hem of his shirt gets your point across, Dabi's hands trembling minutely as he sits up and pulls the shirt up and off obediently, before dropping back onto the pillow.

And you outright whimper out a breathy "Fuck." at just the sight, because Dabi is a vision.

Midnight locs splayed out like a dark halo beneath him, glossy, cerulean eyes lidded and hazy, smooth, healthy skin flushed a rosy pink, contrasting beautifully with the rough, dark scars; the lean muscles across his chest and stomach rippling with every breath.

The light glints off of the staples holding him together and the added silver barbells speared through his dusty rose nipples you felt moments before. Your thumbs find those immediately, rubbing, pinching and rolling over them, the metal warm to the touch.

Dabi breathes out a moan, hips twitching and back arching up slightly into the touch.

Your eyes trained on Dabi, you slide down the length of his body, chest laying on his stomach, fingers still playing with his left nipple, and you lave the flat of your tongue over the other, before wrapping your lips around it, suckling on the bud, drawing out a muted whine from Dabi; a scarred hand flying up to tangle long fingers in your hair, the other gripping the sheet beside him.

You squeeze his right hip before bringing that hand up to the pert, wet nipple, mouth switching to latch onto the left, tongue flicking over the bud.

Dabi pants as he watches through lidded eyes; turquoise meeting yours.

You keep your eyes locked as you let go of the swollen bud with a wet pop, and slide down the length of his torso, trailing cool, open mouthed kisses as you go along the paths your hands caress, the muscles jumping beneath the heated skin.

You lick up the length of the pale hairs of his happy trail before dipping your tongue into his navel, and Dabi whimpers, hand tightening in your strands.

Laying flat on your stomach, ankles crossed, you thumb at his hip bones, dragging a hand down the side of the straining outline in his jeans. "Can I?" You press a light kiss to the tent, eyes locked on his.

Dabi nods and a small "Mhm.", is all he can manage to get out, and even that is breathy and choked.

Arousal coils hot and heavy in the pit of his stomach as he pants, breathing open mouthed and needy, and his breath hitches just a bit at the look you level him with. The focused, heated gaze piercing through him, pupils dialated, just a ring around them now, cheeks flushed, lips glistening and swollen, quirked up in a small smirk.

And Dabi thinks he might believe that you truly do think that he's pretty, because the soft, heated, reverant way your gaze lingers on him makes him squirm and light up and couldn't possibly be faked. And he wonders if you know that you're pretty too, with everything that you are.

He decides that you need to know if you don't.

As you begin to push yourself up to unbuckle his belt to pull down the pants, Dabi pushes the strands from your face, caresses your cheek with a thumb and murmurs, "Pretty." And you look up with an adorable deer in headlights look, about to say something, probably in refusal but then you see the soft look Dabi fixes you with, realizes that you'd be a hypocrite if you deny it when you're trying to get Dabi to believe you when you say it, so you just give him a small, soft, sappy smile, and press a kiss to his hip bone.

You tug down the jeans, Dabi lifting his hips to help, and pull it off, leaving him in just his underwear. Feeling overdressed, you pull your own shirt and shorts off, leaving you in just your underwear, panties soaked.

Dabi's legs fall open as you kneel between them. You lean up for a kiss, licking into his mouth and sucking at his bottom lip, before sliding back down; knees spread, you rest on your elbows, back arched.

Dabi bites his lip, cock twitching in its confines as his eyes drag over you, taking in the sight of the alluring expanse of your arched back, dotted with your marks, the curve of your ass in the panties, more prominent because of the tight material, and the sheer fact that you are kneeling between his legs.

You can see the outline of him, hard and twitching in his boxers. Dabi squirms under your scrutiny, and your smile turns sly and wicked.

You mouth at the thick bulge, just to be a tease, and smirk at the whispered curse you gain.

Deciding you've waited long enough for this, you pull the boxers down and off, freeing his erection and oh. His cock is long, thick, curved, veiny and pretty, because of course it is, but along with the flushed pink tip, there are three barbells running along the underside of it.

And obviously, you have to let him know. One hand on his upper thigh, the other gripping the length, you press a kiss to the inside of his thigh and mutter into the skin there, "Mmm, of course you're pretty down here too.", eyes locked on his, and slowly drag the flat of your slick tongue up the underside of his shaft, over the piercings and prominent veins, and press a kiss to the spongy, flushed tip, lips getting smeared in the pre that beads there. And Dabi whimpers, letting out a curse, fingers tightening around the strands of hair; hips shifting and cock twitching, at both the sensation and the praise.

You wrap your lips around the flushed head, dipping your tongue into the slit there, your eyes slipping shut and you moan around him at the taste, before swirling it around him. Your hand grips the base, thumb playing with the lowest piercing there, drawing out a hiss from Dabi, that breaks away into a moan; his hips twitching at the vibrations to his tip from your moans.

Wanting to see Dabi's expressions, you slowly open your eyes, holding his gaze as you slide down his length, the quirk warmed metal a pleasant added texture over your lips and tongue, and you want to feel them inside you, in the best way they can be; your pussy instinctively clenching around nothing, but first you want to taste him.

You reach halfway before bobbing your head a few times, sucking and hollowing your cheeks on your way up each time, your hand moving along the length your mouth doesn't reach, as Dabi clenched his eyes and teeth, chest heaving.

Saliva laves over his length and balls and the gluck gluck gluck that sound out as you bob, slurp and suck at his cock, wet and sloppy, has Dabi moaning out a curse.

You pull off, a string of saliva connecting you to his dick. Ducking further, you run your tongue along the crease between his balls, where your saliva leaves a sloppy path, before slurping one into your mouth and humming. You tighten your spit soaked fingers at the base of his cock as you feel it pulse in your grasp.

Dabi already feels blissed out and almost overwhelmed. And then you release him to lick your way back up and suckle on the tip before sliding down. And slide down even more, feeding more of his cock into your mouth. And then some more. And more, till you're deepthroating him, lips pressed to the base of the shaft, his cockhead kissing the back of your throat.

Dabi's eyes widen as he pants, sitting up; his hands frantically gather your hair up and back, to see.

At the sight that greets him, voice throaty and rough, Dabi breathes, bordering whimpering, out, "Fuck, baby."

Lidded eyes staring back at him, glistening and hazy, tears pricking at the corners; lips swollen and stretched over him, and cheeks flushed and stuffed full of cock.

Though you relax your throat to accommodate him, it still spasms around his cockhead.

That and the sight of you make his dick pulse, which you moan in response to, eyes rolling shut, causing Dabi's hips to jerk, as he hisses in a breath, and tightens his grip in your hair; digging blunt nails into the palm of his other hand, lest he comes immediately.

Your cunt throbs, neglected and aching to be touched, to be filled, but you ignore it for now.

Because you are on cloud nine.

The heavy weight on your tongue, the taste of him, the heady, musky scent from where your nose is pressed to the pale hairs, the noises that you draw out, the tightened grip on your hair and the blissed out expression on Dabi's face all accumulate, making you soar; eyes rolling back.

A steady moan, almost purr, resonates from your throat, as your tongue moves over him, rubbing against his sensitive piercings and Dabi's eyes roll back as that's almost too much. "Shit, Doll. I'm gonna come, baby." His voice breaks a bit on its way out as he tries to pull you off, but you have other ideas.

Your eyes peel open, gaze fixed on Dabi's expression, because this is definitely not a sight that you are willing to miss, as your hips sway tauntingly, like a cat preparing to pounce and get exactly what it wants; throat tightening as you swallow around his head and hum.

The vibrations shoot through him like lightning and Dabi comes, his vision whiting out as his eyes roll back, mouth falling open in an almost silent whimpered out moan, as his chest heaves from the mind numbing orgasm.

Dabi's cock spasms in your mouth as ropes of hot, thick come spill over your tongue and down your throat; you gulp it all down all while moaning at the taste and the vision that is Dabi coming undone.

Getting lost in the taste, practically drunk on it, your eyes go hazy as you keep on sucking and swallowing around him, almost like you're trying to milk him dry of every last drop, and Dabi squirms at the building discomfort of overstimulation setting in.

Becoming overwhelmed, his eyes sting, and pink tinnted tears prick the corner of his eye and stream down his cheek as you continue your ministrations.

Tugging at the strands still wrapped around his fingers, he hisses and whines out, "Mmn, stop, stop, too much."

It manages to get through the haze, somehow registering, and your eyes flick up to him as you let go of his dick with a wet pop, giving one last lick over the tip.

When you see the glistening, hazy eyes and dripping tears, you slide up his body, moaning as you kiss his cheek to stop the tears in its tracks, before licking up the path it created and whispering huskily into his ear, "Fuck, I was right. Pretty when you cry too.", before pressing a kiss below his ear.

The praise sends a jolt to his sensitive cock, dragging him out of his haze and Dabi grabs you by the side of your neck and pulls you into a searing kiss, licking into your mouth and tasting himself on your tongue.

Pulling away with a thin string of saliva connecting you, he notices the moist material of your panties, his hand dipping down and in, stroking along your clit.

You moan at the feel of hot fingers rubbing at your sensitive clit, as he dips down to your neck and nibbles a hickey into the skin there.

The sight and feel of Dabi's hot, pretty hands and fingers on you, and the added sensation of his ministrations on your throat send you over the edge within three strokes, almost choking on a gasp as your hips and cunt twitch and spasm.

Slick spilling over his scarred hand as you come in your underwear, Dabi strokes you until you whine, teasing you for all you're worth like you did moments before in small retaliation.

Dabi smirks as he gains back some of the control he had at the beginning of all this as he takes in the sight of you flushed and panting and he wants more.

He has the thought that you look delectable and he wants to taste you, and before he can even process the thought, he brings his hand up to his mouth and licks, heated eyes holding your widened, amorous gaze as he licks his hand clean.

Your pussy gives a pulsing throb, and you surge foward to capture Dabi's face between your hands and his lips in a fierce kiss.

Dabi gives as good as he gets, wet and sloppy, and you can feel him smirk into the kiss, and that kind of makes your brain short circuit, from both the action and the slight whiplash.

You pull away panting, hands trembling minutely, and demand, "Lube. Where is it?"

And Dabi's smirk widens, staples tugging and sharp canines on show, azure eyes almost glowing with their mix of heat and amusement and you damn near whimper because fuck he's so fucking hot.

You get your answer when Dabi tilts and nods his head to his left, towards the nightstand. "Top drawer."

You rumages around for a few seconds, and when you get it you throw it beside Dabi on the bed.

Without saying a word, you grab his hands and gently pull off all of his rings, depositing them on the nightstand. Dabi just watches you with a raised eyebrow and a smug, sexy smirk painting his lips. The clinks of the rings hitting the wood the only sound for the moment.

When finished, you quickly unclasp and slip off your bra and peel off your soaked panties, then turn molten gems back to him and grip his face with your right hand, tilting his head up to lock your eyes, and Dabi feels a shudder run through him at the sheer want held within your gaze. His teeth biting into his scarred bottom lip, small smirk still tugging the corner of his lips, he gazes up at you with lidded eyes.

"You're gonna stretch me open on your pretty fingers and then you're gonna fill me up with your pretty, fat cock and fuck me stupid. Sound good?" The heat that coated your words could rival Dabi's hottest flames and he felt his cock react before he could.

His voice was husky when he finally found it, lowly murmuring, "Fuck yeah, baby. Come here."

He pulls you back into his embrace, flipping you to be beneath him and sliding between your legs, where you brush against each other, as he captures your lips in another kiss, swallowing your moan at the slight friction.

He takes his time kissing and nipping his way down your jaw and neck, to your collarbone and chest, leaving marks as he goes. He sucks, bites and pinches at the sensitive nipples, playing and tugging at them until they're shiny, puffy and flushed, hot hands groping at the soft flesh of your tits, but not yet where you want him most.

He makes his way further down, pressing hot kisses and marks into your stomach and the V of your hips. Grasping your thighs in scarred, hot hands, he spreads you wide, exposing you fully so that he can let his eyes drag over your skin and feast.

And feast they did. The way your hair fanned out beneath you, hands raised and curled into a fist beside your head, body tensing in anticipation. Your eyes shining with hazy lust, cheeks and upper torso flushed; the rise and fall of your chest accentuating the swell of your tits and swollen, pert nipples and the hickeys and bruises littering your skin, marking you. Soft, sweat slicked legs, skin glowing like the light and life itself, spread to reveal and frame your pretty pussy, clit swollen and fat lips glistening with your arousal, framed by trimmed hair.

Lips stretched in an almost predetory grin, Dabi licks his canine tooth, the sight akin to that of a wild animal licking its chops. His cock hardening once more at the meal laid out before him.

You already feel floaty at the look in Dabi's eyes and then you float even more.

Holding your gaze, Dabi leans down to lick a stripe up and through the folds of your cunt and you moan lowly; the mix of the heat of his slick tongue, and the metal ball, sliding over your sensitive clit and finally having pressure on where you want him most making your hips jerk.

He buries his face in your wet heat; hot tongue slipping in and he groans at your taste.

It distracts you and you almost weren't prepared for the feel of the slick, warm finger rubbing circles around your entrance, replacing his tongue and you gasp as the finger dips in and curls.

Dabi drags his tongue up to circle your clit, the piercing enhancing every sensation, before sucking on it, sending sharp jolts of pleasure through you, as he thrusts his finger in and out, just teasing your insides, before pressing in another finger, eyes fixed on your expression.

You gasp and pant as you squirm at the stretch and slight burn, and the heat inside and on you.

Dabi's fingers are slender but long, and you keen as he scissors his fingers before finding your sweet spot and adding pressure there; the heat of his fingers adding to the pleasure, drawing out a whimper as you gush around his fingers and tongue.

Pressing in the third and final finger, Dabi releases your clit with a slurp as he curls and rubs his fingers directly to your sweet spot, massaging it; his other hand gripping at the soft skin of your thigh to keep you spread wide.

You whine, voice cracking on its way out, as your hips twitch and back arches.

"Mmn, fuck. I'm gonna come if you keep doing that." You pant out as you grind down on his fingers, fucking yourself on them; sheets already slick soaked.

You notice the wicked glint in Dabi's eyes as he grinds the pads of his fingers against that spot and you immediately start shaking your head, before he dives back in, lapping at your clit punishingly. You gasp and you shake as he messily feasts, fingers pumping deliciously.

Wiggling your hips to dislodge his fingers, you whine out, "No, no, I wanna come on your cock."

Dabi's cock twitches where it hangs, hard and heavy, his lips curling in a near snarl as he moans against you at your words. He pulls back and grits his teeth as he exercises restraint, lest he just fucks you into the bed like the wild animal he feels like at the moment.

Because you aparently look rather pretty when you're being adorably slutty for him.

Dabi takes away the pressure from that spot, but speeds up his thrusts, focusing on stretching you properly, as he kisses his way back up over your stomach, teeth grazing over your sensitive skin, and sucking and leaving marks as he goes.

Fingers still moving, pressing kisses into the underside of your breasts, his other hand trails up and wraps around your throat, the weight of it just holding you there without squeezing. Feeling you clench around his fingers when he did this, he takes it as the go ahead it is as he captures a nipple in his hot mouth.

When your lips part in a gasp of breath, Dabi smirks as he gives a small squeeze to your throat at the already fucked out expression on your face, to which you roll your hips.

"Fuck, that's enough. I'm ready. Fuck me." The bratty, whiney voice that Dabi knew and came to begrudgedly find fond amusenent in, now makes arousal coil hot and heavy in the pit of his stomach.

He releases you and pulls his fingers from your hole with a squelch, and you almost whine at the loss and the emptiness, but you hold back the sound, biting your lip.

Dabi straightens up, and you blearily peer up at him, taking in the heated gaze trained on you, the wide, smug, sexy smirk, canine tooth glinting wolfishly, and the way his chin glistens with your juices, and you suddenly feel very empty. You let out a breathy curse and spread your slightly trembling legs wide to remedy this, pussy throbbing when Dabi makes a show of licking his fingers clean, holding your gaze, before kneeling between your legs to hover over you; cock hanging hard and heavy, teasingly brushing just above your mound.

You wrap your arms around his neck, a hand fisted in raven strands, pulling him down to lick a stripe up his chin, to the corner of his mouth, tasting yourself on him, before slipping your tongue between his parted lips, as you moan into his mouth; Dabi goes easily, returning your eagerness with zeal, propping himself up on his elbows framing your head between his arms, your kiss slow, smoldering and sloppy.

Pulling back, he reaches back into his nightstand and pulls out a condom, thinking you wouldn't want the mess of it, or the risk for that matter, but instead your eyes narrow at it in thinly veiled contempt.

Before Dabi can tear it open, he finds himself flipped onto his back once again, with you grinding your dripping cunt against his hard shaft, slicking him up.

You lean in and press a kiss below his ear before muttering lowly, "No condom. I wanna feel you. Please?"

And how could Dabi resist that?

Throwing the condom somewhere he doesn't see with a flick of his wrist, he rests his heated hands on soft thighs and squeezes, "Fuck, anything you want, Baby."

You give him such a sweet smile, Dabi's breath hitches a bit.

Pouring lube into your hand, you sit up onto your knees and reach down to slick him up properly, especially those piercings, and line up your hole over him, the other hand holding you steady on his shoulder.

Sinking down slowly, your eyes momentarily roll back in ecstasy at the feel of his thick, hot cock stretching you so good, the piercings rubbing against your hole and walls in the best way possible and impossibly so much better than you imagined. Your eyes almost close fully but you force them to remain at least half way open so you can see Dabi's expression, and it was beautiful.

Dabi's brows are furrowed, jaw clenched and eyes hot on you, gaze dragging over your wanton expression as you sit on his cock fully, your hips flushed against each other. You clench around him, rolling your hips slowly as you adjust to the stretch and feel of him. Blunt nails dig shallowly into the flesh of your thighs, as Dabi holds back from thrusting up into the tight, raw heat of you enveloping his cock.

Shallowly panting, you place both hands on Dabi's chest and slowly lift yourself back up onto your knees, the drag of the piercings as you clenched even on your way up making you bite your lip. You relish in the hiss of pleasure it draws from beneath you before dropping back down, punching a breathy curse out of Dabi and a choked off gasp from yourself as it hits home on that spot.

You move slowly as you do it again and again, your thighs flexing as you work yourself up and down the thick cock inside you, clenching every time you move up as if to prevent the cock from being pulled out of you, your tits gently jiggling with each bounce.

You couldn't help glancing at where you were connected, and your breath hitches.

Dabi's groin is drenched in your juices, and you notice a slight movement on your stomach on each down thrust, and then you realize it's because you could see the bump of Dabi's dick in your lower abdomen as you fuck yourself on him. You throw your head back and moan low and long at the realization, simultateously bringing a hand to press on the bump and dropping down harder on the fat cock inside you.

Dabi moans at that, hands finding your hips in a firm grip and you feel like you're going to be branded at the heat of them, and the thought of that makes you grind a bit harder on your way down.

Biting your lip to supress the stupid, bordering feral grin that spreads as you gets lost in the feel of him was utterly useless, because you giggle, breathless and a bit hysterical in pleasure. You then promptly choke on your own spit and a gasp when Dabi simultateously thrusts his hips up to meet yours and pulls you down to meet him from the firm grasp on your waist.

Your eyes lock, gems meeting in a heated gaze, and something snaps a little in you both at what they see.

"Hah...hah..." You push your hair back with one hand, before you adjust to ride him in earnest. Picking up the pace, you and Dabi move as one as you fuck each other, your tits bouncing and swaying with every thrust.

The mixture of pure awe and hunger in your expressions shouldn't surprise either of you at this point but it does, and you both get overwhelmed in your own ways.

Dabi moves one of his hands back from your waist to grip at your ass, using the grip to further help his upward thrusts.

And you love the stinging of the tight, burning grip on your waist and ass.

You let out a low moan as Dabi's other hand slides back, grasps your other asscheek and kneads them both, before he spreads you.

"Fuck," you whimper out, dragging your nails down the healthy skin of Dabi's bare chest, "mmn...fuck me, fuck me, Dabi, please—"

The next thrust throws you off balance, making you catch yourself on the headboard, one hand gripping at Dabi's bicep as you bury your face in his neck to muffle your moans as you find yourself being roughly pulled down to meet the rise of his hips pounding into you, leaving you a gasping and moaning mess.

The firm grip on your ass holds you still as Dabi fucks up into you, the hot breath on your skin where Dabi whispers into your ear how good you feel around him, how good you are for him, pushing you that bit closer to the edge.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Dabi—" Eyes shut, you curse, whine and pant, as all you could do, all you could ever want to do, is stay still and take it.

You jolt when you feel Dabi's thumb circling against your clit; the combination of the heat and different textures both inside and on your sensitive flesh too much, and you go rigid, clenching down on him as your toes curl, a string of whimpered swears leaving you as you come, slick gushing out around and on him.

"Shit, so good, so—mmn— so good, fucking me so good, Dabi, baby—" You gasp and babble, damn near cock drunk and limp as you're fucked through your orgasm,

Dabi lets out a moan that breaks off into a whimper at the praise as his hips give a jerky thrust and you immediately zero in on it as you partially come down from your high.

As Dabi keeps up his near brutal pace and bruising grip, and the sting of overstimulation embraced, you lift your lips to his ear. "Such— ahn— such a good job fucking me, baby." You moan softly into his ear, voice thready. Dabi lets out a low groan and his cock pulses inside you. "So—hnn—so fucking good for me, hmm?"

"Mmm, Fuck Dolly." breathless and overwhelmed, Dabi groans as he impossibly speeds up, thrusts jerky.

Your fingers tangle in raven strands and tug. "Mmn, c'mon, my pretty baby. Want you to fill me up." You purr, voice shaky, before you press a kiss below his ear and sit up in his lap and clench as you roll your hips, wanting to feel him, heat coiling tight in your abdomen at the breathy moan Dabi releases.

Azure eyes go hazy as he gazes at you, before rolling back; his body going taut as he roughly pulls you down against him, grinding up into you as he releases his thick, hot come deep inside you.

"Fuck." He gasps out, mind blanking as his orgasm is drawn out as you milk his cock, clenching and unclenching around him.

Dabi looks fucking stunning as he comes, and that, along with the feeling of being filled up so, so good, with hot, thick come, has you spasming around him in another short peak, a shudder running through you at the feeling.

After a moment, you go limp, falling foward onto Dabi's chest as he relaxes back into the mattress, and you just stay there, panting for a bit.

You pass out there, Dabi's cock still inside you and a small, dopey smile on your face.

*****

You wake up clean but you feel sore and boneless, your legs especially jelly.

You also wake up warm, and you snuggle up into that warmth, and feel a hand in your hair.

Cracking open your eyes and looking up, you see Dabi looking back down at you with a soft smile and eyes.

He looks pretty, as usual, but this time it's a new pretty. A softer pretty.

"Morning, baby." He murmurs lowly, running his fingers through your hair, before leaning down to press a light kiss to your forehead.

You look up at him in wonder. The morning light filtering through the curtains hit his eyes that shine like gemstones through the inky strands of hair, and his staples that shine like flecks of moonlight itself, imbeded in and holding together a mosaic.

"So fucking pretty." You can't help muttering, almost whining, and Dabi snorts a laugh, trying and failing to hide it behind his hand, along with the pretty pink of his blush.

You melt as the warmth of Dabi consumes you from just your lips when you're kissed oh so softly after he returns the sentiment, because you grinning up at him, eyes shining like jewels and smile crooked and adorable is also so fucking pretty.

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