My Campaign Was Reblog By Some And Vetted

...Yk what, I'm loving this for me actually bc most of my faves are the bastards 💀

@angelblueflame @isabeauwolf @candycandy00

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I CAN SAVE HIM

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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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He gives me cat vibes ≽^•⩊•^≼

something for you, Bucky-nation!! rewatched the best MCU movie ever(™) a few weeks ago and sketched the Soldier, so hot, so dangerous, so mew-mew........

PLEASE

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

NSFW version over on Twitter!

Happy Halloween!

I see this directly after going down the familiar rabbit hole of Damon Salvatore edits & clips on tiktok and I wanna scream bc they are blending together in my mind help meeeee i want him so bad

INSUFFERABLE

todoroki touya x gn!reader

includes: dabi is a shameless flirt lol. brief dire mention bc he’s a dumbass. you fall for his antics

notes: he’s so. dumb. i hate him lol

Sometimes you envy the students whose professors’ lock their doors as soon as class starts. 

The ones that provide that immediate punishment for the students who don’t care enough to show up on time, not giving them so much as a minute past the beginning of lecture to slip in. If they’re late they miss, it’s nothing more than a product of their carelessness and they deserve it. 

Sadly, your biology professor is not one of those people. 

Which is fine for your peers who rush in only five, ten, hell—even fifteen minutes late. Their hair wet from just getting out of the shower or clothes wrinkled from having just rolled out of their cramped dorm bed because they forgot to set their alarm. You can understand that; empathize with the plague that is eight a.m. classes. 

Who you absolutely cannot empathize with is the guy who sits next to you. The one who walks in not ten, not twenty, no—thirty minutes late at the very least into lecture, and doesn’t give two shits about not being disruptive. Lets the door slam shut behind him and his scuffed combat boots stomp heavily down the aisle and shuffle with an unneeded amount of noise before plopping down in the chair next to you. 

He’s simply insufferable, truly. With his box dye black hair and chipped fingernail polish and the intricate canvas of tattoos that sweeps from his jaw down his arms and disappears somewhere below the ridge of his perfectly carved collar bones that look absolutely—whatever. He’s annoying. That’s the point here. And today is, of course, no different. 

“Hey, dollface,” Dabi smirks as he sits down, then immediately scrapes his chair over to you. You think today is a new record, a whole forty-one minutes late. You wonder why he even bothered to show up at all. 

You don’t address him, not at first. You merely send over a half assed side glance as a form of acknowledgement. That is, until something glimmering catches your eye. (Something that isn’t the piercings or rings you’ve become accustomed to over the past month). 

“Why do you have that?” You half whisper-half hiss at him, staring down at the object twirling around his fingers. 

“What? ‘S just a lighter.” He flicks it open to show you, as if you couldn’t tell before, then snaps it right back shut. 

You roll your eyes, turn your attention back to your professor. Just fifteen more minutes and you’re out of here and far away from him. “Obviously.” You sigh, bounce your leg subtly. “Don’t light that in here.” 

And you don’t think you should really have to say that, and you don’t know why there’s an unease bubbling in your stomach due to his presence—but you do and it’s there. And it only increases as you catch the smirk slicing deeper across his face out of the corner of your eye. 

“Or what?” Dabi questions, scrapes his chair even closer to you, opens the lighter again. “Whatcha gonna do about it, doll?” 

“Seriously don—“ 

“Oops,” he grins, wide and cheeky as his thumb flicks the lighter on. He’s holding it up, like he doesn’t give a shit whether the professor catches him with it or not. Like he has no worry for the trouble it could cause. 

“What’re you—stop that.” You can’t believe him, seriously, and the audacity he has for disregarding basic rules. “If you get caught with that inside you could get fined.” 

“Pfft, please.” And this time it’s his turn to roll his eyes at you, scoffing under his breath. “You have to be a student here to get fined.” 

You blink at him. Once, twice. “Huh?” 

“What?” He hums, waves his finger over the flame disinterestedly, not even looking to make sure he doesn’t hold it over it too long and burn himself. “I don’t have to worry about stupid ass fines.” 

“Yeah, but—what do you mean you aren’t a student here?” 

Your lecture is long forgotten, your professor’s voice fading out into static as you stare at the man beside you. That uneasiness in your stomach is twisting, stirring around in a way that’s a little uncomfortable. Because sure, you knew the guy was a little odd. But not being a student? Showing up to your classes all the time? Hanging around campus? What if he’s some sort of creep, or stalker, or— 

“Woah there, sweetheart. It’s not what you’re thinking, I'm not some freak or anything. My dad’s the uni president. I get to sit in on whatever classes I want for free. No need to alert the authorities.” 

Oh. 

Your cheeks heat up, a flush rising so fast as well as the want to hide under the table. Silly you, of course he wouldn’t be some creep. I mean, he might be a tad creepy, but that’s not necessarily a crime. 

(He’d be a cute creep, you think. Then mentally tell yourself to shut up). 

“I wasn’t going to do that,” you huff, still looking at him. You aren’t sure why, but his eyes look particularly blue today; more than normal. Maybe it’s because you’re finally allowing yourself to look, a full proper look at your—sort of—peer. “For the record.” 

“Sure,” Dabi chuckles, leans a little closer to you. His fingers mindlessly play with the necklace dangling around your throat. You don’t know why you let him. “So that wasn’t a total how do I discreetly call 911? expression then?” 

“Definitely not,” you dismiss, tapping your pen to your notebook. “It was a man this guy’s so lame he goes to class in his free time expression.” 

Dabi winces, an exaggerated thing that you hate to admit is a little charming. “Ouch, lame? You wound me, dollface. Right in the heart.” 

“You’ll live.” And it’s minute, a little twitch of your lips before you can catch yourself, but it’s there. And Dabi catches it, pointing a finger annoyingly close to your face. 

“Was that a smile, hm? Did I just make my little doll smile?” He teases, prods his finger into your cheek. If you had any idea where it’d been you might lean forward to bite it off. 

“One,” you tut, pinching his digit between two of your own and pulling it away from your face. “I’m not your doll. And two, not a chance. You’re imagining things.” 

“Oh no no, definitely not,” Dabi presses, devilish tilt to his mouth. “That was a smile. Finally falling for me, that it?” 

“Uhm, excuse me—“ 

“Not now,” the man in front of you cuts off the person’s voice from behind, giving them a cold look, “We’re busy, thanks. Anyways, as I was—“ 

“Sorry, it’s just—“ 

“I said we’re busy,” Dabi grits, brows cutting deep as he snaps his head back over his shoulder. “Or did you not hear me?” 

“I did, but—“ 

“What?!” 

“Their jacket’s on fire.” 

Whatever snark Dabi might’ve wanted to push out at your fellow classmate dissolves immediately as the both of you snap your eyes down. And sure enough, right where Dabi has his lighter open—the one you told him not to light—the edge of your jacket has just caught on fire. 

“Oh shit,” Dabi curses, snapping the lighter shut and tugging it back from your jacket as he watches you frantically pat it out with a sleeve covered hand. 

You’re successful—thank god you don’t burst entirely into flames—but the corner of your jacket (your favorite one, mind you) is now very obviously scorched. Your eyes snap up to meet cerulean blue and what little bit of uneasiness left in your stomach turns into a boiling fit of rage. 

Completely disregarding the lecture (that you admittedly weren’t paying attention to anyways) you shove everything into your bag and get up from your seat to leave. You make your way out of the lecture hall absolutely fuming and don’t miss a single beat as you turn on your heel to yell at the man behind you as soon as the door shuts. 

“You’re absolutely unbearable!” You grouse, jabbing your finger into Dabi’s chest. “Seriously! I can't believe you.” 

“Oh c’mon. ‘M sorry! I didn’t mean to, it was just an accident—“ 

“I told you not to light it. But no,” you groan, and you seriously want to rip your hair out, or punch him, or something. “You just had to act like a tough guy. Mr. Too Cool To Be A Student Here. You lit me on fire!” 

“I didn’t mean to! I said I was sorry!” 

“I don’t care! I could’ve been burnt up in a crisp!” 

“But you weren’t!” He defends. “It's not a big deal.” 

“It is to me, this was my favorite jacket. You know, just because you’re hot and have some big shot dad doesn’t mean you can just do whatever you want!” 

“Well obviously, because if I could do whatever I wanted then I'd be doing you!” 

The both of you pause for a moment, catch your breaths through slightly labored pants as you stare at each other. It’s like the gears are turning in both your heads simultaneously, cogs clicking into place and smoke clearing in the workshop. 

“Did you just admit you think I'm hot?” 

“Did you just say you want to do me?” 

A part of you wishes your jacket was still on fire, because at least then you could try to justify that as the reason your cheeks are suddenly burning. You turn your face away from him, adjust the bag slung over your shoulder. You’re thankful you’re the only two in the hallway, or else you’d probably die from embarrassment right now. 

“Well, how ‘bout I make it up to you then?” 

You let your gaze drift back up to meet Dabi’s, staring into tattoo and mascara framed eyes suspiciously. You narrow your vision, tip your head to the side as you watch that shitty (read: thigh clenching) smirk make its way back to his lips. 

“And how do you plan on doing that?” You tense up a little as he takes a step closer to you and digs a pen out of your bag. Then he grips your wrist—gently, despite the firm hold—and scribbles across your palm. 

“I’ll be outside your dorm at eight,” he grins, dropping the pen back into your bag when he’s done. “Wear something hot. ‘N I don’t mean the burnt kind.” 

You shove his shoulder at the remark, glancing down at your palm to see what you’re guessing is his phone number. “Asshole.” 

He simply catches your wrist again, tugs you close enough that he has perfect range to dip down and kiss your cheek. And if you weren’t flushing before you certainly are now, eyes going wide against your will as you watch him let go of you and take backward steps away. He throws you a wink, chuckles when he sees you snap out of it and scoff at him. 

“Insufferable!” You call after him. And you don’t try to hide your smile this time. Don’t try to veil your expressions. 

“Irresistible!” He corrects, sticking his tongue out and making a corny call me gesture with his hand when you flip him off. 

And you wonder if you should wear your scorched jacket tonight simply to spite him. 

OP is a chinese cosplayer and professional volleyball player and too tall to fit in the cab on his way to comic con（cr 如你所见老子是奇行）

Cnetizens:

Actually one of my favorite things is when proshippers are bullied out of specific fandom spaces and then you get to watch that fandom cave in on itself and burn to death or become this sad little cesspit of the same 15 people regurgitating the same repetitive, bland content while scream-crying about how their fandom is dying or how their content gets 0 engagement.

Like buddy. You harassed the seasoning out of the soup. Now you just have water. Enjoy.

I would like to request a Valentine's Day fic.

A UA student accidentally hits Aizawa with her quirk, Puppy Love, which turns anyone hit by it into a ditzy dog hybrid obsessed with the one they love for a week.

Mic is more than happy to give his puppy of a husband all the love and attention he needs. Ear scratches, chin strokes, belly rubs, and maybe something even more.

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

Puppy Love

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[NSFW] ‼ 18+ >MDNI<

Summary: A UA student accidentally hits Aizawa with her quirk, Puppy Love, which turns anyone hit by it into a ditzy dog hybrid obsessed with the one they love for a week.

Mic is more than happy to give his puppy of a husband all the love and attention he needs. Ear scratches, chin strokes, belly rubs, and maybe something even more.

Pairing: Aizawa Shouta/Yamada Hizashi

Content Warning: Smut, Gay Sex, Rough Sex, Dry Humping, Anal Sex, Blowjob, Creampie, Dog Boy, Dog Hybrid Aizawa, Pet Play, Bottom Aizawa, Implied Switching, Married EraserMic, Fluff, Mildly Dubious Consent

Word Count: 3.8k

Disclaimer: Character belongs to Kohei Horikoshi

A/N: Second request! :D Happy late Valentine's Day!💖

I was very much supposed to post on V Day, but alas, Tumbr was not letting me post :( Idk if it was Tumblr itself or something else but yeah. But it's here! Hope you like it anon, I had no idea what to write for Vday and you came in clutch!💪

My Masterlist

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Aizawa has never been a big fan of Valentine's Day.

He never really got the point of it. Of course he still celebrates it in his own way with his husband, because of course Hizashi loves all things love and Valentine's Day, but all the extra theatrics just seem like too much.

Seeing the halls of UA filled with bright eyed kids running around whispering about their crushes and infatuations, seeing some shyly gifting boxes of chocolates to their object of affection, them accepting them with blushing or poorly hidden smugness, he can already feel the incoming headache.

And of course something simply must happen.

As he's minding his business on his way to the teacher's lounge, a flustered girl bumps into him and there's a flash of pink light. He stumbles, head spinning and body tingling, before everything goes black.

*****

Hizashi was not expecting to be called into the infirmary because of his husband apparently getting into a quirk accident, yet here we are.

After rushing over, he's met with the sight of his seemingly unconscious husband on the bed, and is only not currently screaming because of the pure delight on Midnight's face as she hovers over him, snapping pictures.

He looks around the infirmary in confusion, seeing Recovery Girl and another student in the room, though she's very clearly nervous and looking ready to bolt.

"What's going on?", he asks out loud, not really caring who answers him.

Recovery Girl just sighs loudly and gestures over to Shouta, so Hisashi strides over.

And his brain promptly short circuits.

Because there is indeed Shouta, his husband, not unconscious, but laying on his side, curled up with his knees to his chest, and Hizashi's rapidly dilating eyes fixate on the fucking tail that's wagging and thumping against the bed, all black, silky fluff, as its owner covers his face with his hands. Then Hizashi's gaze snaps up to Shouta's head and he almost collapses. Because almost hidden in his inky hair, is a pair of soft, floppy ears, that twitch at the sound of his sharp inhale, and oh Hizashi wants to touch. He wants to pet him more than he's ever wanted anything in his life.

He forcefully restrains himself for now, because he knows if he starts, he won't be able to stop, and he needs answers first.

Pretty dark eyes peek out at him from between long fingers and the tail begins wagging even faster. Hizashi swallows thickly, willing himself to stay calm.

His neck feels like it's creaking when he turns to Midnight and manages to choke out, "Explain."

She seems far too delighted to do so.

"Well, my adorable little student Aiko-chan here accidentally hit him with her quirk in the hallway." She says, far too brightly. He takes a deep breath and stares at her, waiting for her to continue. She rolls her eyes before doing so. "It's called 'Puppy Love', isn't that adorable? Anyways, it just turns him into a dog hybrid with some.....side effects." She says with a sidelong glance and a devious smirk, something horrifyingly mischievous in that look.

Hizashi sighs, long and tired, sounding far too much like his husband, and reluctantly asks. "What kind of side effects?"

Midnight claps with a cackle, "I'm so glad you asked! Well, according to Aiko-chan, he'll basically lose his shame, and be absolutely obsessed with you, the one he looovveess~.

Hizashi drags a hand down his face, because he knows he absolutely would not be able to say no to Shouta for anything and now has the responsibility to ensure Shouta doesn't embarrass himself during all of this. "Okay, for how long?"

"A week!" Midnight chirps.

Hizashi wants to scream.

Before he can say anything else, he feels Shouta's hand on his and hears him sigh, "'Zashi."

There's so much adoration, near reverence, condensed into that one word that it makes Hizashi's heart lurch as an uncharacteristic, dopey smile takes over Shouta's face when he gets Hizashi's gaze on him again; dark eyes wide and bright as he looks at him, and Hizashi's breath gets caught in his throat.

Fuck, he's adorable.

"Aww, look how excited he is to see you." He hears more than anything the smirk in Midnight's voice as she coos, before continuing, "You boys better get home and, hm, take care, of each other. Don't want to give the kiddies a show now, do we?" That snaps Hizashi out of it, remembering that they're in the presence of other people, of a student, and he nods, looking over to Recovery Girl.

"Is he good to go?" He hopes the urgency in his heart didn't bleed into his words, and tries to ignore Shouta pawing at his face and clothes, thankfully not trying to undress him, just seeking attention.

"Yes, dear. Just be sure to keep him hydrated, and keep him away from food that dogs can't eat. Do your research before giving him anything. Nedzu already gave you both the week off for this, so rest easy." She hands him a handful of gummies, before going back to her desk.

He nods, thanking her as he guides Shouta out of the bed. He stumbles a bit, but eventually manages. Just before they leave, he hears shuffling to the side. "Um.." It's Aiko-chan, nervously playing with her fingers. "I'm really sorry, Sensei." Her voice wobbles, and Hizashi feels bad for most likely adding to her guilt.

"Hey, no worries, listener! It was an honest mistake, just be more careful next time, yeah?" He sends her a bright smile, valiantly trying to ignore the pure adorableness that is his husband at the moment, and moves on after he sees her shoulders relax. "I will, thank you, Sensei."

They somehow manage to get from the building to the car with minimal witnesses and much struggle, what with Shouta trying to climb him like a tree.

Isn't he supposed to be a dog???

By the time they get home, he feels like he's been run ragged.

It was a near battle trying to drive safely with an adorable man/dog hybrid trying to crawl his way into his lap almost the entire way there, all while miraculously not crashing the car.

He makes it to their couch, where he collapses and then promptly has a lap full of Shouta.

He can't help but laugh as Shouta showers him is licks and kisses along his mouth, cheeks, chin and neck, his hand moving up to pet his hair and ears affectionately, finally able to touch the soft fur there.

Shouta eventually settles down, situating himself across his lap and nuzzling his face into Hizashi's throat, a low rumble in his chest as he basks in his pets.

They doze off there together, Hizashi's hand buried in Shouta's soft hair, content smiles on their faces.

*****

Hizashi wakes up to movement on his lap.

He groggily peels his eyes open, only to snap fully awake at the sight before him.

Straddling his leather clad thigh, Shouta ruts his clothed crotch against the solid muscle there, eyes hazy and tongue lolled out from between parted, drooling lips.

Mind blanking, Hizashi's hands fly to Shouta's hips, gripping him there as he moves, and he groans low in his throat. "Fuck, you're that desperate for it, puppy?"

Shouta barely even seems to hear him in his pleasure as he continues to hump his leg like a, well, dog.

Hizashi leans in and licks the line of drool trickling down the corner of his mouth, while guiding Shouta's hips and rocking his thigh up into him on his next thrust, and Shouta cums with a high pitched whine.

As he comes down from his high, Hizashi peppers kisses to his face, bringing him back down gently, and Shouta dazedly smiles and licks kisses along Hizashi's lips, cheeks and throat in return.

When Shouta's fully settled, Hizashi takes a deep breath, steadfastly ignoring his own problem, and guides him up out of his lap. His pants are soaked through and leaking, which is not helping Hizashi's problem.

"Alright, let's get cleaned up and get something to eat, yeah?"

It's then that he really processes that the room is noticeably dimmer with the setting sun, so Hizashi decides he should definitely make dinner.

After cleaning up of course.

He manages to shift Shouta off of him, but as he moves to stand, he's startled by a loud and protesting whine. Shouta looks distressed and sad as he watches him like he's never going to see him again, ears and tail droopy.

Hizashi feels his heart simultaneously crack and melt at the devastatingly adorable display.

"We gotta clean up, baby. C'mon, Sho.", he says softly, trying to soothe him, and Shouta just whines again, but allows him to stand and follows suit.

Of course, he only agrees to do so if it's together where he can keep an eye on Hizashi, which he just agrees with with amusement.

Both now changed into sweatpants and tshirts, Hizashi's hair freshly washed and without all that product, tied in a low, loose bun, strands at the front framing his face, and Shouta's dark locks falling loosly in damp waves, Hizashi leads them to the kitchen, trying his very best to not focus on just how low on Shouta's hips the pants sit, comfortably below his tail but barely covering his dick.

He tries to leave Shouta on the couch where he'd be more comfortable, but Shouta is not having it.

"I'll be right back, baby. I'm just going to the kitchen to make us dinner." Hizashi tries to reason, but Shouta just lets out an adorable growly grumble and follows after him.

He huffs out a laugh, simply accepting his cute shadow. He's keenly aware of dark eyes following his every move as he moves about the kitchen making their dinner, making sure it's edible for dogs too, settling on a simple chicken stew. Halfway through cooking, he looks over to see Shouta seemingly intent on going in circles, pursuing his own tail, and he has to force himself to stifle a snort of laughter.

When he's finished with their food and setting the table, he gets a lick on his cheek as appreciation, and smiles softly at Shouta, knowing it's a puppy's way of kissing, and presses a kiss to the tip of his nose in return. He gets a pleased chuff in reply and they eat their dinner in relative silence, though Shouta is seated far closer to him than he usually is.

Hizashi's just thankful and relieved that he can still eat like a human being and not with his face buried in the plate.

After cleaning up, Shouta thankfully patient and calm as he does so, and with them fed and cleaned, Hizashi heads to the their bedroom with his shadow and settles into the bed, up against the headboard, preparing himself to continue with the book he's been reading for the past week, when he instead immediately has Shouta's head in his lap.

Hizashi just smiles fondly as he pets his ears and strokes his chin, chuckling softly at the little wiggle and chuff it elicits. The movement causes his shirt to ride up, showing off the abs and happy trail on Shouta's lower abdomen, and without thinking, Hizashi's hand is already there.

A purring rumble vibrates through Shouta as Hizashi drags his nails just below his navel, dark eyes glazing over.

And Hizashi swallows thickly. Oh this is dangerous.

Shouta is very much not in his right mind, he should not do anything to him, shouldn't have allowed what happened to happen.

But oh, the way Shouta peers up at him through lidded eyes and thick lashes, pink lips parted with soft pants.

Hizashi is suddenly very aware that a few inches further up, Shouta could notice Hizashi's losing battle of keeping himself from getting hard.

Biting his lip, Hizashi decides; Fuck it.

This is his husband, his very adorable husband, who has already long consented to things like this after previous quirk mishaps, it's really just Hizashi's hesitance holding him back. Granted, he's never been quite this out of it before, but it'll be fine.

Hizashi will take very good care of Shouta.

But, he'll be patient. He'll just go along with everything he can with what Shouta wants. He won't initiate anything.

That settles his conscience, as he continues to pet Shouta, enjoying just running his hand through his hair, lightly massaging his scalp, and stroking the fawn-soft ears, all while raking blunt nails over his stomach.

Shouta whines and snuffles when Hizashi starts to scratch behind his ears, moaning loudly when he grazes a spot right at the base. Fascinated, he rubs the spot again, harder this time, which makes Shouta moan louder as he flips over onto his stomach.

Hizashi pauses, thinking Shouta wants it to stop, but immediately buries his hand in his hair once again at the low whine he receives.

He's quickly entranced by the way Shouta's fluffy tail wags enthusiastically at his touch, and can't help but immediately caressing it, stroking it from the base to the fluffy tip.

"'Zashi, more." A pleading whine breaks his slurred speech and Hizashi pauses for just a second before resuming his ministrations, his own excitement growing with every little noise he strokes out of the other man.

Shouta snaps his head to face Hizashi, staring straight at his crotch because he can smell his arousal, and Hizashi feels his breath hitch at the look in those dark eyes.

He surges forward, nuzzling his face into his clothed crotch, and Hizashi can't help but swear loudly and tighten his grip on the hair in his hands as Shouta mouths against his tent. His breath is hot and saliva is quickly creating a wet patch from where he starts sucking on the fabric, and the sight of Shouta's head in his lap, mouthing along the side of his clothed dick, hands pawing at his thighs and abdomen, all while peering up at him with that eager, pleading expression is far too much too quickly, and Hizashi breaks.

Tugging his pants down, he frees his achingly hard cock from its confines with a hiss, murmuring, "Go for it, puppy."

Shouta happily envelops the tip in his hot, wet mouth, suckling on it. The heat of his panting breath hits his throbbing shaft as he laps and laves along it, wet and sloppy as he thoroughly enjoys his treat, and Hizashi throws his head back with a deep groan, chest heaving.

“F-fuck, good boy,” he pants, tangling his hand in dark hair just behind his ears, while the other slips under the waistband of Shouta's pants, wandering down over the swell of his ass to grab a greedy handful of the tender flesh, both making the dark haired man let out a vibrating moan around his dick, “Such a good boy for me, Shouta.” 

Shouta pulls back to whine, rutting his own erection against the mattress. "'Zashi," he whimpers, pretty eyes glassy and pleading.

"Hmm? What does my good boy want?" he hums, because really, even Hizashi doesn't know what he wants more at the moment. The thought of spreading his legs for Shouta to have his way with him, all ruthless and animalistic, is a delightful thought, but on the other hand....

Hizashi trails his hand further down, teasing Shouta's dry hole with the pads of his fingers, and he gets his answer in the form of a high keen, Shouta's back arching.

"Want me to take you, puppy? Want me to breed you like my little bitch?" He asks in the sweetest voice, like he's not talking about fucking him.

Shouta's immediate response is a happy yelp, nuzzling against Hizashi's twitching cock.

"Fuck, strip and on your knees for me, pet."

They both discard their clothes, and Hizashi quickly rummages through their nightstand for their bottle of lube as Shouta eagerly obliges and moves to the center of the bed to bury his face in the sheets, ass raised in the air.

And Hizashi curses under his breath, because he will never tire of the view of his husband like this, back arched, ass presented and wiggling his hips enticingly, cock hard and heavy between his legs; fluffy tail swishing above the delicious swell of his ass, his hole twitching and ready to be filled.

How the fuck did he get so lucky?

"Good boy, Shouta" he murmurs, voice husky and cock aching as he kneels behind him.

Shouta lets out a loud, broken moan when Hizashi wraps a hand around the base of his tail, stroking his thumb along where it connects to his skin, before moving to open the bottle of lube with a click, dribbling some onto his fingers. Tossing the bottle to the side, he presses a slick finger to his puckered hole, pushing past the rim. Shouta rumbles low in his chest at the feeling, as Hizashi thrusts his finger in and out, coating his insides with the lube, before pressing in another finger, eyes fixed on the way his tail flicks and sways at the stretch, a panting moan escaping him.

After years of exploring his body, Hizashi finds Shouta's prostate with practiced ease, adding delicious pressure there, drawing out a sweet whimper from him as his neglected cock twitches where it hangs heavy, dripping precum.

Hizashi scissors his fingers, properly stretching him out for him, before pressing in the third and final finger, curling and rubbing his fingers directly against his prostate, massaging it; his other hand gripping his asscheek, holding him open and in place.

Shouta whines, high and needy, voice cracking on its way out, as his hips twitch and back bows even more in a filthy arch, tail wagging away as he tries to fuck himself back on the fingers inside him.

And Hizashi decides that he's ready for him, and he's so fucking thankful for that because his own neglected cock aches with need, tip flushed red and wet with precum.

He pulls his fingers from his hole with a squelch, and Shouta whines at the loss and emptiness, before instead yipping in excitement at the feeling of the head of Hizashi's cock nudging at his stretched rim.

After smearing the remaining lube along his length, Hizashi pushes in in one smooth thrust until their hips are flush, moaning at the familiar, welcoming heat surrounding him and the vision that is Shouta beneath him like this.

Face buried in the sheets, panting and drooling and whining into the bed, with his back arched sinfully, hole stretched around him, while his tail swishes and big ears twitch excitedly.

Green eyes feast hungrily on the gorgeous sight, as he reaches his clean hand up to thread his fingers through his golden locks, freeing it from the hair tie in the process.

He barely lets him catch his breath before he rolls his hips, and Shouta moans long and low at that, lighting up every nerve along his walls as he drags over his prostate. Hizashi draws back, not even to his head, just barely goes halfway, before burying himself back inside again.

And Shouta is lost to panting whines and sobbing moans as Hizashi works up the pace, pulling out farther, slamming back in harder, faster, all while stroking along his sensitive tail and ears.

"Fuck, so good for me. Always take me so well." He groans, rolling his hips on the last word for emphasis, dragging out a keening moan from his puppy.

Hizashi feels the way his walls twitch around him, sees the way a shudder runs through his body, and knows he's close.

He wraps his hands around his hips in a tight grip and holds him there as he picks up his speed again, pounding into him hard and fast at a brutal pace, as Shouta rocks back to meet the increasingly frantic thrusts with tantalizingly perfect clenches and deep, sweet moans, tail quivering.

“You gonna cum like this, gorgeous?” Hizashi growls, releasing his right hip to reach forward and take Shouta's cock in his hand, stroking along the length teasingly, “C'mon, be my good boy and cum for me, puppy.” 

One last stroke as he grinds against his sweet spot, and Shouta howls, head thrown back as he cums all over the sheets, fluffy tail wagging erratically and claws, sharp, small and black, grow out of his hands and rip the sheets beneath them, digging into the mattress with a clench of his fists

The combination of the sight of Shouta falling apart like that and the way he clamps down on him, so tight and so good, sends Hizashi over the edge with him, hips twitching as he fills him up with his seed, vision whiting out.

When they eventually come down from their highs, Hizashi carefully pulls out with a hiss, and fuck, if he could come again he would, just from the sight of him. His cum spilling out of his husband's gaping hole, eyes glazed over as he pants, and drooling from parted lips; ears and tail twitching with leftover traces of pleasure.

He's fucking gorgeous.

Hizashi runs a reverent hand along his spine as he eases him down on his side, on a clean spot, before standing to get things to clean them up. Shouta whines when Hizashi moves away, tail droopy and brows pinched, and Hizashi's heart melts all over again at the adorable sight.

“Shhh, it's okay, pup,” he murmurs, petting Shouta's ears, “I’m just grabbing something to clean us up, baby.” He pushes back Shouta's sweaty hair and presses a kiss to his forehead before walking into the attached bathroom and retrieving a warm, damp washcloth.

They can always shower later, but for now, he cleans the cum and lube off of himself before taking another damp cloth back to the bedroom to help Shouta clean up.

The way he immediately perks up upon his return is absolutely precious, and Hizashi can't help the fond, sappy look that takes over his features.

Leaning down, he presses a sweet, chaste kiss to his lips, full with his insurmountable love and affection for this man, before pulling away with an absolutely smitten smile.

He cleans him up and bundles him in clean blankets, and they fall asleep wrapped up in each other's arms.

Though, some time during their slumber, they shift and switch places, and when Hizashi wakes next, it's to Shouta grinding and humping against his bare ass, tongue laving along his neck.

The remainder of the week is going to be eventful, to say the least.

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