THREAD FOR @Tomuras_Cumsock

NSFW! enjizawa non-con heavy

referenced child abuse, bondage, forced feminization, chastity cage, spanking (with paddle), degradation, gaslighting?, begging, abuse of subspace, mind break, forced infidelity, depersonalization, cumdump, breeding
–– ∞ ––
Shouta Aizawa was locked in the basement of some building, blindfold over his eyes, gagged, bound, and completely naked.

Things hadn’t really gone according to plan.
–– ∞ ––
When Shouta had begun to look, really look, at his students, he couldn’t help but notice the oddities of one student in particular: Shouto Todoroki.

The kid flinched at loud noises, frowned at any mention of his father, and, of course, there was his original refusal to use his
fire. Shouta had been a teacher for long enough to know that his student’s home life was less than stellar, but there wasn’t all that much he could do without evidence against the newly number one pro hero in Japan.

And he had a feeling that Todoroki wouldn’t be very willing to
provide the evidence needed to take Endeavour down.

So, he formulated a plan, involving breaking into his student’s childhood home, and gathering evidence instead.

He arranged it so he could pass off his patrol to a different underground hero for a week, and told Hizashi he was
going on a stealth mission. He was, actually, going on a stealth mission. Just not a legal one.

This was his first mistake.

Being an underground hero meant he skirted in the grey area of the law more often than not, being able to get away with things easier than daytime heroes
could.

Still, he really only planned to take three days at most during school break to observe and collect as much data as he could, without putting his husband in any unnecessary complicated situations, but he told Hizashi not to expect him home for longer, just to be on the
safe side.

This was his second mistake.

The first night gave him little-to-no info, hardly any opportunity to investigate further, and even less sleep. He had better luck during the following day, ironically enough. Both remaining Todoroki children who lived at home had gone
out, and Endeavour himself was at his agency, so Shouta took the opportunity to take a look inside their house.

Nothing surface level was noticeable, except the abundance of locked rooms that he had to keep unlocking, and the strange starkness of everything. Shouta couldn’t even
find it in himself to classify this as a home, no it was more just an empty shell of a house.

It wasn’t until the third room he unlocked that he found anything suspicious at all. It was some sort of medical recovery room, lined with burn ointments and bandages. And even then,
something like that wasn’t too out of place for a fire hero. No, it was the large chart that lined the wall that really drew his attention, seemingly counting the amount of times Shouto had “failed”, whatever that meant. He didn’t like it one bit.

The last date recorded was just
this morning, and Shouta could see blood-covered bandages in the trash by the door. Endeavour had looked fine as he was leaving the house, so they couldn’t have belonged to him.

Shouta was making conclusions he really wish he didn’t need to. Snapping some quick pictures of the
chart, and the bloody bandages, the underground hero turned to leave.

If he hadn’t been so focused on his evidence gathering, if he hadn’t been so nearsighted, he would have heard the loud door slamming as Endeavour made his way back inside. His phone had alerted him that
someone was in the house, the floor pressure sensors showing movement in all his private rooms that didn’t belong to Fuyumi or Shouto. If he wasn’t so tired, Shouta would have heard his loud footsteps up the stairs, the opening of the door, anything.

He didn’t.
So when Shouta Aizawa turned around, he was smacking right into Endeavour, himself.
–– ∞ ––
“Fuck,” left Shouta’s lips before he could stop himself.

“Indeed,” Endeavour replied, annoyance, anger, and confusion evident on his face, “explain yourself.”‹‹“I’m on a mission,” Shouta says, his cold indifference cloaking his worry.

“Eraserhead is on a mission, that I
didn’t approve, in my own home?” Endeavour asks, incredulous.

Shouta only had the upper hand because Endeavour didn’t know what he knew. He had to keep it that way. “I’m here investigating the claim that you might be putting your son in harm’s way,” he starts, sounding blazĂ©,
yet confident. He had one helluva poker face, when it came down to it. “Many students had brought me concerns about your son’s injuries when coming back to school after a break, and I felt it prudent to come see for myself.”

There. Establish that other people know what you’re
doing, and possibly have other evidence somewhere else. Staying out of a sticky situation 101.

For some inexplicable reason, Endeavour’s face morphed from one of indignation, to one that just exuded smugness. “I know you’re lying, Eraserhead.” He spat the name like it was
poison, arms crossing over his chest.

“Are you willing to wage your whole career on it?” Shouta shot back, forcing a smirk to his face.

Endeavour stayed silent, his eyes considering. Then he smiled, big and ugly.

Shouta was on his knees in an instant. Endeavour wasn’t the
number one hero for nothing.

“And I’m willing to bet you have no one coming to look for you, am I right?” he asked, seemingly already knowing the answer.
–– ∞ ––
In truth, Shouto never left the house with any visible signs of injury, the son of Endeavour couldn’t be less than perfect, so Enji knew the underground hero was lying.

But he also didn’t know what else he’d seen in the house beyond the first aid room and activity-tracking wall,
so it wasn’t like he could just let the man go.

The brief flash of fear in the man’s eyes at his last statement, however minuscule, was answer enough for the number one hero, whose smirk grew dark.

Well, he’d just have to keep the hero quiet, now wouldn’t he?
–– ∞ ––
Shouta felt the shift in the room immediately, and made to move from his vulnerable position as quickly as he could. Still, despite his experience, Endeavour was physically larger than him. Even when he activated his quirk to stop the other man’s, he was at a disadvantage, and it
didn’t take long until his own capture weapon was wrapped around him.

The last thing he remembered before he was knocked out cold, was the hungry look in the pro’s eyes that made him shudder to his core.
–– ∞ ––
When he came to, it was with a fight. He was immediately trying to launch to his feet, mind still on his earlier encounter. He was met with abrupt resistance, though, finding himself face down on some sort of
carpet? Soft cuffs were fastened around his forearms and upper arms
tightly, with a sturdy bar through the his bent elbows made and across his back, forcing him to arch his back.

The cuffs around his arms were fastened to each other, the lower and upper arms connected, with what, he didn’t know. The two forearm cuffs were connected with a
leather strap between them on his front, holding his arms in position.

The inability to move woke him from his daze completely, and he noticed the blindfold covering his eyes. Then he noticed the gag in his mouth, a ball gag big enough that it was hard to breathe around,
strapped tightly around his head, same soft material as the cuffs on his cheek. Which was pressed into the floor by his own weight.

He was hit with a sense of nausea, trying to orient himself to his own position, but he quelled it out of necessity, because with the gag in,
puking would be dangerous.

His calves were cuffed too, from what he could tell, by the same soft material as around his arms. They were also attached to something that prevented him from closing his legs together, and a similar contraption paired with the same cuffs was placed
around his thighs. And he really wanted to close his legs together, because whatever cool breeze was blowing against his hole was-

Shouta was completely exposed.

Ass in the air, face on the ground, presenting like a bitch.

He could feel some fabric laying on the crest of his
ass, doing no favours in covering him from the cold air. He felt other fabric (maybe mesh?) covering his chest, spaghetti straps around his shoulders. His toned abs were out for the world to see.

Fuck this.
–– ∞ ––
He didn’t know how long he sat like that, completely unable to move, or see, or say anything, but it was a while before he heard the soft click of a door being closed.

With all his other senses compromised, Shouta’s hearing zeroed in on the minute sound coming from behind him
with pinpoint accuracy.

Heavy steps could be heard on the carpeted ground, approaching him steadily

Shouta’s muscles tensed.

A low laugh reverberated around the room, sending chills down his spine.

“Is someone excited to see me?” a voice asked, right beside him, and Shouta
could tell he looked pathetic; on the ground and helpless.

It took him a second to place the voice, not recognizing it immediately as Endeavour’s, it was gentle, low and gruff and soothing in a way that the pro hero’s normally wasn’t.

Shouta stopped himself from making a
muffled sound of protest, knowing it was what the other man wanted, but hoping to keep whatever little scraps of dignity he had left in this situation.

“Aw, is my girl being stubborn?” the man croons, and Shouta scrunches his brow.

Girl?

“So pretty for me, presenting so
nicely, and staying so quiet.” Shouta feels the man’s hands run up his back, pulling whatever top he has on from where it had apparently bunched up around his chest, before he felt it slide back down as Endeavour’s hands continued moving.

Something wasn’t right, why had his
shirt stopped being pulled across his skin when Endeavour’s hands hadn’t even made it past the bottom of his ribs. Was he
 was he wearing a crop-top?

“Aw, slutty girl, her skirt all pulled up to show off. Can’t have that, can we? Bad girl.”

Skirt? What?

Endeavour’s big hands
pull the fabric Shouta could feel on his ass down, so it teased the top of his thighs, and was blown slightly at his hanging member every so often. The friction was tantalizing, but he valiantly tried to ignore it.

And Endeavour wasn’t done. “Aw, does my girl want my attention
so bad she’s showing herself to whoever might come in the room?” His strong fingers squeezed Shouta’s firm ass, pulling his already-spread cheeks further through the skirt.

It was humiliating, but nothing he couldn’t withstand for a while. He stayed silent, not even letting out
the whimper he wanted to at the feeling of tension across his tight hole.

There was a smack against his clothe-covered hole, sharp and hard. “Answer me when I talk to you, girl.” There was the angry Endeavour everyone was used to.

Shouta stayed silent. He had been trained to
withstand torture, this was nothing. Still, it made blood run to his cock, despite everything about the situation being a boner killer for him., which lead him to notice what had gone unfelt until then. He was trapped in a chastity cage, and the new rush of blood made an
unpleasant pressure form.

“Oh, so you’re being bratty today? You what I do to bratty girls?” Endeavour asked, moving away. Shouta could feel the air move around him, hear his footsteps away, and his breath get quieter. It unsettled him. “I punish them.”

Shouta couldn’t even
pretend to hold in the sound of distress he made. It’s muffled, and wet from the saliva pooling in his mouth, and it’s pitiful.

“Now you’re talking? Too little, too late, baby girl.” He’s smirking. Shouta could tell without his eyes that the man now standing across the room was
getting twisted pleasure from watching him squirm.

Well, the dam was broken anyway, might as well try to get his two cents in. “I’m going to kill you,” he said, though it sounded more like “Mm mmmng mm mmmm mmm.” Still, he put as much venom in his voice as he could, struggling
fruitlessly against his restraints, which made the fabric of the skirt tickle his thighs.

“No, it’s your turn to keep quiet now,” Endeavour said, and now he was right behind him. His hand ran in between his cheeks, pressing the fabric up against his perineum and across his hole
with the tips of his fingers.

Shouta thrashed as best as he could, trying to exclaim a vicious, “Don’t fucking touch me!” though it didn’t come out as anything but a garbled, muffled, mess. What the fuck was going on?

He wasn’t given any warning before the firm strike of a
leather paddle hit across his ass, making him tense up and lurch forward, cheek rubbing against the ground.

“Count them to twenty for me.” Endeavour’s voice was full of mirth, he knew Shouta couldn’t say the numbers even if he wanted to.

At his extended silence, Endeavour
prompted once more, “Count or I stay at zero. We’re going to twenty even if it takes all day. You’re been such a bad girl, can’t you be good for me just this once?”

Shouta didn’t speak.

Endeavour brought the paddle down across his other cheek, making him lurch forward once
more, neck uncomfortable. The pro paused, waiting.

Shouta said nothing.

The third strike was on the same side as the first. Alternating strikes would take longer for Shouta to really hurt from the pain, but it spread his discomfort further. This was going to take a while. Fuck.
After another pause, Endeavour struck again, other cheek, but Shouta stayed silent.
–– ∞ ––
Shouta felt like his ass was on fire, and he would never be able to sit again. It hurt. It really did. There were tears in his eyes, not that Endeavour could see, and he was sure he was making light sounds, not enough to count towards his twenty though, and his own body was
confused between being painfully aroused and completely disinterested. The cock cage wasn’t making things easier, its presence more and more obvious as time passed.

He couldn’t tell you how long they’d been at this.

“All you have to do is count for me, baby girl, just to
twenty, and then I’ll take all your hurt away. Don’t you want that?”

His head moved on its own, nodding pitifully against the ground, carpet rough on his face. His body was so sore. He was sure he had carpet burn, too, at this point, with nothing else to take the brunt of the
impact of the weight of the paddle than his right cheek and shoulder.

“Then be good for me.”

The next impact caused Shouta to cry out against the gag, as loud as he could, trying to form the number one with his mouth stuffed.

It must have been okay, because Endeavour’s words
were full of praise. “So good for me, girl. Nineteen more, you can do it.”

The second official swat made the tears run down his face, into the carpet, and he let out a muffled number two as best as he could.

“Good girl, you’re doing so well. Keep going, count for me, baby
girl.” Endeavour’s voice was like a balm, his praise so kind compared to his condemnations from earlier. That made him cry harder, a real sob escaping his throat.

At ten, he was a sobbing mess, barely able to catch his breath enough to call out the numbers.

Endeavour’s words
were no less kind. “Half way, good girl, you’re so strong for me, doing so well.” Shouta soaked it up.

By fifteen, he must’ve been so pathetic Endeavour was going to go easy on him, because he was sure he was barely even trying to say the numbers at this point, hardly forming
word sounds at all.

Still, he got praised for his good work. “Such a smart girl, almost done, so sweet for me, thank you for counting so well, good girl.” It made him shiver, full body shiver.

The nineteenth stroke of the paddle made Shouta go abruptly silent–not before a shout
that could have been interpreted as a number was released, mind–as he was forcefully put into sub-space. He only really ever did this on special occasions with Hizashi, when they had a day for it. Those days were nice. This one wasn’t. But the chemicals in his brain were
scrambling to make him feel better, and this was the only thing they knew how to do.

If Endeavour noticed the change, he didn’t say anything, only continuing his shower of praises, “Last one, baby girl, you did so good for me. One more, you can do it, just for me. My baby girl,
she’s so good for me, isn’t that right?”

The final impact was met with silence.

“Come on, last one, you can do it. Do I need to start over?” There was an edge to Endeavour’s voice, a dangerous one.

Baby Girl shivered, and violently shook her head, but she couldn’t think the
words, didn’t know what to say.

“Baby Girl, don’t be difficult, don’t be a bad girl, you’re so close, I can make all the hurt go away.”

“Nnnng,” she keened around the gag, disliking the upset tone the man had. She’d tried to be good!
–– ∞ ––
Something had happened, Enji could tell. Eraserhead had given up withholding, and did as he was told. The mean streak in Enji made him count through the gag, the extra layer of humiliation serving to break his little problem faster. But now, something had changed. It wasn’t bad,
per se.

Just different.

It was his broken sound at being called bad that alerted Enji to the real change. Had he
?

Moving quickly, he placed his nice leather-wrapped paddle on the table, socked feet walking with purpose on the carpeted ground towards the bound pro.

He
unfastened the gag first, it pulling out of the other man’s mouth with a wet sound, string of drool attached.

Eraserhead’s mouth remained open once the object had been removed, and that only further confirmed his suspicions. Enji trailed his fingers lightly along his jaw in
passing, trying to stimulate blood flow.

The pro’s hair was tied in a ponytail, to keep out of the way, and to make sure the straps of the headgear didn’t get caught. And it looked nice.

“Close your eyes,” he ordered. This room wasn’t particularly bright, he wasn’t activating
his flames, either, but any kind of light stimulation after what was six-going-on-seven hours of sensory deprivation would be jarring.

He only gave the pro a couple of seconds before he removed the blindfold, unclasping it with practiced ease, and slowly removed it, noting with
slight pride that Eraserhead’s eyes were, in fact, closed. His cheeks had dried and fresh tear tracks running down them, his face was flushed, and his mouth was drooling obscenely on the carpet, and he was beautiful.

He placed the gag and the blindfold away to be cleaned, they
were gross and covered in tears and drool, and then ordered the other man to open his eyes. “Slowly,” he added, as an afterthought, and Eraserhead followed without question.

Glassy eyes looked back up at him, somewhere over his shoulder as he crouched down. The hero’s nose
scrunched.

He’d been right, Eraserhead had dropped right down into sub-space. Oh, this was going to be even easier than he imagined.
–– ∞ ––
First, the thing in his mouth had been removed, but Baby Girl hadn’t been told she could speak or move, so she kept her mouth how he left it. His hands on her jaw felt so nice! He took care of her.

Then, he was telling her to close her eyes, and of course, that was something she
could do, so maybe he would call her a good girl again! So she closed her eyes, and then he was removing the thing that was covering them.

Still, even though she could see the light through her eyelids, and she wanted to see who was taking care of her–Hizashi-sama?–but she still
kept her eyes closed until she was told to open them again. Her head was all fuzzy, like she didn’t have a body, and she just floated.

“Open your eyes,” he said, and she went to wrench her eyelids open. “Slowly,” he ordered, and she did as told, eyes half-lidded, blinking a few
times slowly. She couldn’t really focus, but that didn’t look like her Hizashi-sama. She scrunched her nose. Where was she?

“So pretty and subby for me, Baby Girl, so good for me. I’m sorry I sounded upset, you’ve been so well behaved.” This wasn’t Hizashi-sama, but he was
making her feel like a good girl. So Baby Girl was going to let it keep happening.

She let out a sound through her nose, mouth still open, content.

“Let’s get you all cleaned up and taken care of, yeah?” he asked, and reached towards her prone form, removing the bar that was
holding up her elbows. Her body slumped in relief, only just noticing the sore stiffness in her muscles.

He unclasped whatever was holding her legs apart, from her thighs, and her caves, his movements making her skirt brush against her sensitive skin. He didn’t take any of the
cuffs off, and he left her arms chained together, but he also scooped her up in his arms after gently closing her mouth for her.

The head rush of not being upside down anymore was so intense she almost blacked out, and a whine left her throat before she could stop it. She
couldn’t see again, and it was making her anxious.

But he was holding her in his safe arms, carrying her bridal-style tucked against his big chest, so she knew she was safe.

He was speaking, she could feel the rumble in her chest, but the head rush left her ears full of
cotton, and she couldn’t hear what he was saying.

He didn’t carry her far, just to a big bed where he laid her out on her stomach, chastity device pressing into her stomach uncomfortably, and her arms forcibly bent up at her chest, but other than that, it was the most
comfortable she’d felt in hours.

It was her left cheek that rested on her bed, her right was red and raw, cheekbone featuring red scabbing from the carpet-burn she endured.

And then she was alone, she didn’t know where he went, was she not good enough for him? Was she bad? Did
she-

He was back, bottles in hand, eyes raking over her prone form, stopping at her eyes where tears had gathered beyond her notice.

“Silly girl, I wouldn’t leave you. I just went to go get supplies to take care of you. I’m here, don’t worry.” He sat down on the bed beside her,
running a calloused hand softly up and down her exposed lower back. “You’re so good for me, Baby Girl, I’m going to take away the pain now, do you want that?”

“Yes,” she choked out, voice horse, “yes, Sir, please.”
“Okay, Baby Girl, I’ll be nice and gentle for you. You deserve it.”
–– ∞ ––
[ top of thread! ] https://twitter.com/slut4aizawa/status/1321691599064064001
–– ∞ ––
Enji almost clinically flipped up the man’s skirt to expose his ass, red and inflamed, before he squeezed a generous amount of aloe-infused cream into his hands. He carefully rubbed it onto Eraserhead’s cherry red bottom, taking care to go softly.

He really had the other man
right where he wanted him, and he was going to make him stay quiet no matter what. The camera in the corner of the room would ensure that.

That didn’t mean he was a monster, did it? He was caring for him, treating his welts with the utmost care, calling him good, and smart, and
strong. None of those things made him a monster. They made him the opposite.

“You’re being so good for me, look how pretty you are all red and marked, such a good girl for me.”

Okay, so maybe belitteling the pro, and dressing him up in a skirt, and calling him “Baby girl”, and
cleaning and giving him basic anal preparation while he was out cold wasn’t exactly heroic behaviour, but come on, Shouta Aizawa on his knees crying for you? That wasn’t a sight just anyone got. It had to be taken, it couldn’t be helped.

Enji’s hands got a little frisky,
squeezing the supple skin gently, pulling his cheeks apart lightly, spreading lotion to his hole. No penetration, of course, but just to tease.

The man squirmed underneath him.

“Oh, you like that?” Enji teased, repeating the motion.

“Y-yes, sir.” And fuck, there was that
title again. It made blood rush to fill his already semi-filled cock. This man was about to be the death of him.

“Want me to breed you, pretty baby? Fill you with my seed, make you have my perfect, unstoppable, spawn?” His mouth was moving on its own, while one hand kept teasing
Eraserhead’s hole, and the other moved to his stiff cock, rubbing it through his pants. “Want to carry my baby for me, all full, all the time, just for me?”

“Yes, sir, please, I want that, sir, I want that so bad. Please, I’ll do anything, I promise to be good-“ Aizawa continued
to babble. He was a vocal one, under the right circumstances, wasn’t he?

“And you’re not too sore?” He knew, had the man been in the right state of mind, that he should have answered that he was too sore, he had barely just regained motion in his limbs, his knees must’ve been
bruised to hell, his shoulders must be cramped from being forced into the waitress pose for so long, his ass must be on fire, even despite the soothing cream.

But the man answered with an affirmative anyway, attempting to nod his head against the sheets, neck too sore to lift
it.

“Okay, baby girl, I’m going to breed you nice and well, and you’re going to take it until I stop, right? No going back on your promise to be good?” Enji fought to keep a smirk off his face. Things really were looking up.
–– ∞ ––
“Never,” Baby Girl said, with as much conviction as she could muster. She could make her Sir happy, she could be good.

“I’ll hold you to that, Baby Girl,” he said, before more wetness gathered between her legs. “Oh, so wet for me? So good for me already.” His big hands managed
against her hole, only one finger daring to just press against the rim. “Such a nice pussy, bet it’s so tight for me. Is your pussy tight for me, Baby Girl?”

“Mhm!” she responded, with gusto. She’d have the perfect pussy for her Sir.

“Say it back to me, tell me your pussy’s
tight for me.” His voice had that edge again, she didn’t like it.

“My pussy’s tight for you, Sir, only for you.” That wasn’t exactly right, she was good for Hizashi-sama, too, but she didn’t want to say that to her Sir, if he didn’t want to hear it.

“So good for me, Baby Girl,
so perfect for me.”

She responded by pressing into his next touch, non-verbally begging for him to stick his thick finger inside her.

When he complies to her demand, she clenches down as hard as she can, showing her Sir just how tight she was, how good she could be.

More
wetness dripped down her crack.

“Baby Girl likes that? She’s gushing for me, feels so wet and tight, so good,” he says, pulling his finger back out. She whines at the loss, but isn’t given much time before it’s pressing in again.
–– ∞ ––
Eraserhead was practically thrashing under him as he methodically targeted his prostate once he found it, three fingers in. He was a sobbing mess, begging for more, and Enji loved it.

“You take it so well for me,” he said, pressing again, watching the man jolt, “just a little
bit longer, you can do it.” He wanted to get as much of the man begging for his cock as possible, the more evidence, the stronger the blackmail’s effects.

“Baby girl wants your cock, please, she needs it, fill her, breed her-” Aizawa begged, and Enji froze. Had he really
?
This was so much better than begging on camera. This was everything.

“Does she really want that?” he asks, pressing against his prostate once more.

“She does, please, sir, she really does.”

Well fuck, he couldn’t deny him, could he? He removed his fingers with little care,
tugging on his rim as he did. The man below him keened brokenly. It was musical.

Enji’s big hands grasped the other man’s hips, and dragged his upper body down the covers, knees staying firmly planted.

“Such a good presenting pose, baby girl, so good for me, very pretty and
ready for me to breed her.”

“Yes, yes, yes yes yes yesyesyesyesyes-“ Aizawa moaned, words crumpling together into an indistinguishable ball of sounds.
–– ∞ ––
Sir was ramming into her pussy, and it hurt, but she promised she’d be good and take his cock so well, so she couldn’t complain. The slap of his thighs on her raw, bruised, bottom hurt, they hurt a lot, but at least it was balanced by the pleasure building in her nice wet hole.
“Please, please, please, please, please-“ she didn’t even know what she wanted anymore, but Sir probably did. He’d know, and he’d give it to her, because she was being a good girl.

A hand came off her hip to grip on her ponytail, pulling her chest off the bed. It hurt, but Sir’s
words cooled her protests. “So good for me, so pretty with your back arched like that, Baby Girl is taking this so well.

The new angle also brought precision strikes to her special button, sending shivers and shocks throughout her body. “Yes, yes, Sir, just for you, Sir.”
–– ∞ ––
Enji felt the man’s ass clench around him, trying to milk his cock for all he was worth, but he wasn’t done yet. Eraserhead was on his third dry orgasm, but Enji hadn’t even reached his first. His own orgasm was still building, but he had time to pound the other man into the
mattress, and he was going to use every single minute.

“Fill me, please, sir, breed me, make me yours.” The pro moaned wantonly, pressing his chest into the mattress, and arching his hips as much as he could. “I want your baby, please, sir.”

Okay, so Enji wasn’t going to last
as long as he thought.

His hot seed shot into the other man’s abused hole, as his hips stuttered through his orgasm. His thrusts were irregular, as he pumped as much cum as he could into the other man.

“Bred so well, so full, aren’y you, baby girl?”
–– ∞ ––
“Stop, stop, stop, it’s too much, Sir, she tried to be good, but it’s too much, Baby Girl can’t do it-“ her words were cut off with a hand coming to grab her throat.

“You promised me, Baby Girl, you said you would be good for me, no matter what. Are you breaking your promise?”
His voice was sharp, and unforgiving as he continued to rail into her. He’d already bred her twice, and she was so sore, and it felt too good. Her whole body was shaking.

She could feel his seed squelching inside her with his every thrust, shivering at the thought of her pussy
being stuffed with his load.

“Have to make sure you stay bred, Baby Girl, good girls take it. Aren’t you a good girl?

“Yes, she is, she promises, she’s a good girl, but it hurts, Sir, please-“ her words came out a little raspy, struggling to speak from the pressure on her neck.
“I’m so close, Baby Girl, you’re being so good for me, thank you so much for being so good for me, almost done.”

Baby Girl tired to hold on, but she couldn’t breathe very well, and her whole body hurt. “Sorry, sorry, sorry, Baby Girl is sorry, Sir, she tried.”
She succumbed to the darkness that was pulling her in.
–– ∞ ––
Shouta didn’t know where he was, except that it was a soft surface, and that he felt sore all over.

His head was fuzzy still, a feeling he only really associated with a long, intimate, night with Hizashi. But he could tell, even in his compromised state, that this wasn’t his and
Hizashi’s bed, nor even their apartment.

Where the fuck was he?

He was naked, swathed in a blanket, eyes scanning the room. There was a laptop on the bedside table, video queued to play, and a sticky note with his name on it.

He pushed play, his arm protesting the movement,
his shoulder muscles more sore than ever.

Instantly, he was met with the sounds of moans, and the telltale slap of skin on skin. That certainly explained some of his soreness.

He wasn’t prepared for the visual that went along with it, though. Endeavour’s big body ramming into
his, holding him up by his hair as he wore a
 skirt and a mesh, cropped top. He could see a fancy matching set of leather cuffs on his limbs, the same blue colour as Endeavour’s hero costume. They had to be custom designed.

He didn’t remember any of this.

He also didn’t
remember saying any of the things he was saying, the begging for cock, demanding to be bred. He wouldn’t have done this. He had Hizashi. He would never-

“Like what you see?” a voice interrupted his thoughts. His head whipped away from the screen to the sound of the voice. It was
Endeavour resting against the doorway, smirk on his face. He was wearing street clothes, hair damp, flames not even activated. He looked so non-threatening. Somehow, Shouta felt both completely terrified and one hundred percent relaxed at the same time. “I had a good time, too.”
“No, what the fuck is this?” Shouta asked, full of anger. His body protested his attempts to stand, but the movement caused some fluid to run down his leg. That couldn’t be-

His confusion and alarm must’ve shown on his face, because Endeavour’s smirk became a full-blown smile.
“You took it so well for me, last night, thank you.” He took a step into the room, and Shouta activated his quirk on instinct.

Nothing happened, of course, the man wasn’t even using his quirk, but it made him chuckle.

“Stay the fuck away from me.” Shouta was completely
vulnerable, here, and he didn’t like it.

“That isn’t what you were saying last night,” Endeavour said, head nodding towards the scene played on the screen.

Shouta was moaning, demanding to be fucked, promising to be a “good girl” for Endeavour. What the fuck?

“And I’m sure
your husband wouldn’t like to see this video? Or the rest of the world? Your reputation would be shot, we can’t have that.” The man’s voice was plagued with amusement.

“I-“ Shouta didn’t know what he was going to say. “For my silence?” he asked, after a long pause.

“So smart
for me,” Endeavour said, “if you keep your nose out of places it doesn’t belong, this tape never sees the light of day again. Your husband doesn’t have to know you cheated on him, begged for another man’s cock. I think that’s fair.”

“I didn’t-“ but he did, didn’t he? He had
cheated on his husband. He didn’t remember, but the video was right there. After another tense moment, he nodded.

“Good Shouta,” Eraserhead said, and it sent an involuntary shudder down his spine.

Fuck, he hated this.

He hated feeling so inferior, and so helpless.

“When can I
leave?” he asked, instead of shouting every single obscene thought he had about what he was going to do to the man in front of him.

“Stay another day, at least then you’ll be able to sit down when you go home to see your husband. Wouldn’t want him getting suspicious, now would
we?”

Fucking fuck.
–– ∞ ––
[ end of thread!! gift for my lovely lovely @Tomuras_Cumsock !! link to top of thread vv ] https://twitter.com/slut4aizawa/status/1321691599064064001
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