Since becoming a teacher at Yuuei, Aizawa found that his schedule allowed little time for personal indulgences. Between lesson plans and grading, daily evaluations and coordinating with outside agencies, he kept himself busy.
Which was how he found himself on his personal laptop, scouring the internet for some impersonal gratification. Hizashi would never let him live it down if he knew Aizawa would rather do this then actually try to find someone to date these days. Nemuri was more understanding, and had recommended a website she knew aligned with his tastes.
Bound2Us was an S&M website specializing in selling subscriptions and clips from amateur creators. It was a pretty varied selection of users and kinks. He spent a few minutes browsing before finding a pair that caught his attention.
InfernalTwo, the domme was 20 while his sub was 18. Younger than Aizawa usually preferred to view but as his cursor hovered over their page and a compilation of their video previews played he felt intrigued enough to click on it.
He couldn’t say he was disappointed by what he found. All their scenes looked to be filmed in a hotel, an upscale one at that. And watching a few of the previews, he found the quality of the video itself looked far more professional than amateur. Various camera angles and good editing and lighting, they obviously took their clips seriously. Aizawa could appreciate the dedication to making a high quality video on an independent budget. He clicked on their provided bios.
The domme referred to himself as Sir, pretty commonplace for the scene but it didn’t make him lose his interest. He had a nice body, stocky and tall, well muscled. His hair was spiked and white and he had dove grey eyes. Not Aizawa’s type, but attractive enough that seeing him in a video wouldn’t feel like a chore. He was more interested in his sub, who went by Shy, prefered it/it’s pronouns and was not allowed to talk during scenes. They used the RACK approach as opposed to Safe, Sane, Consensual.
He clicked on the photo of Shy to see the full picture. It showcased the entire front of his body, which was slender and lean with muscles. With the exception of his head, all of his body hair had been removed. Aizawa had never had much of a preference for body hair, but he found that very appealing. Somehow it made the sub appear more delicate. Especially in combination of what he could see of Shy’s blindfolded face, which was round and soft looking, cupid bow lips and though his jawline had definition it was not heavily pronounced. His hair was long, black with heavy bangs. Something was off about it, in fact if Aizawa didn’t know any better he’d say it was a wig, though not a cheap one. The more previews he watched of them, the more natural it began to look.
In all the clips available without purchasing a membership, the upper half of Shy’s face was either blindfolded or out of the frame. While he was curious as to what his full face looked like, Aizawa decided to purchase a video with him blindfolded before deciding if he’d buy a membership.
It was advertised as an electro torture scene. They were using an electric hand prod, the kind one would use for livestock. The camera did a slow pan over Shy’s naked, bound form. His dick was already hard, it curved to the right. Aizawa felt his own twitch with interest. Palming himself, he reached for the lube as he watched.
All of his attention was drawn to Shy, his moans and whines, the way his body arched sensually with each charge of electricity. Precome spilled out the tip of Aizawa’s dick as he stroked himself harder. A groan fell from Aizawa’s lips when the sub’s hole was shocked and he came again. He noticed that Shy stayed hard despite having multiple orgasms, which was incredibly sexy.
Damn, he was good. He was so good -
Hips jerking, Aizawa came hard with a long moan leaning forward from the force of his orgasm. His fist was painted white, dripping with it. Fuck, he hadn’t come that hard in a while.
Aizawa finished the video after cleaning himself off. It got him hard all over again. He couldn’t take his eyes off Shy, who sobbed and writhed so prettily. His second orgasm was just as good as the first.
When he was finished, really finished, he decided to purchase a monthly membership.
The Night Before...
It all started one night at a bar. Shouto had been working up the courage to venture out, to get what he needed. Finally, he’d smeared concealer over his scar and put on a black wig, sneaking out of the house to go to a leather bar.
He’d been there for a little bit, receiving lots of interested stares and more than a few offers. All of them he rejected. Scanning the room, looking for someone who suited his tastes, his eyes had locked with another pair that were all too familiar.
He’d been as surprised to see Natsuo there as his brother looked to see him. Natsuo had grabbed him by the arm and hauled him to his car, demanding to know what Shouto was thinking. When he confessed that he'd been looking for someone to hurt him, he liked pain and couldn’t seem to get off without it, Natsuo stared at him for a long time. Then he told Shouto to strip, in a tone of voice he’d never heard from his brother before. An unmistakable command which he obeyed.
He ended up riding Natsuo in his car, his brother’s hand tight around his throat while he periodically burned Shouto’s nipples with his cigarette. While Natsuo wasn’t as muscular as their father, he had the same body type. And while they fucked, he’d looked at Shouto like he was nothing. It had been perfect. So when Natsuo shoved him off his dick after he came, had him get dressed and drove him home then told him that the next time he wanted to be hurt he would come to him and only him, Shouto found no reason why he should object to that arrangement.
It wasn’t like it was the first time Natsuo had touched him. Shouto vividly remembered once, right after their mother had been taken away, Natsuo had given him a bath. At first his brother had been quiet, but all of the sudden he looked at Shouto and said “You did this to her, you know?” And he had touched Shouto’s bandaged eye and pressed down hard, making pain shoot through his body. “It’s all your fault,” He’d said while Shouto had struggled and cried out. “It’s all your fault.” It hurt so much Shouto thought he was going to die from it.
Abruptly Natsuo had pulled away, his entire expression changing from coldness to horror. “Shou,” He’d breathed, voice shaking. Shouto had begun squirming in the water, confused by the hardness between his legs. And with a strange look in his eyes Natsuo dipped his hand into the bath, circling his fingers around Shouto’s small member. With the pain from having pressure applied to his burn still throbbing through him, it didn’t take much for him to come with a gasp.
After that night, Fuyumi was the one who gave him baths from then on.
A couple years later, his father began fucking him.
The whole situation was beyond fucked up. But the most messed up part of it was what all of it awakened in him. By all rights Shouto should have fallen into self-loathing and despair. Sometimes he did. But not all the time. Little by little, he plunged headfirst into darkness. And he craved . He liked to suffer.
If his mother could see him now, oh she would be so proud. She would cry and scream and die. Natsuo always said his birth was their mother’s breaking point. Shouto lived and grew in her womb like a virus and by the time he came into the world the disease he’d unleashed inside his mother was incurable.
He was poison, Natsuo said, arsenic shaped with the finest lace. Shouto would liken himself more to opium, given that, in spite of the contempt Natsuo held for him, he still craved to have his younger brother in his bed. Just like their father, he was addicted to him and their indulgences laid waste to the already fragile state of their family.
Which brought them to where they were presently.
Him blindfolded, laid out on a posh hotel bed, wrists and ankles bound to the posts, dick already hard with anticipation of what’s to come. Natsuo’s film major roommate Toshiro recording them. Recording and selling clips had been his idea, and Natsuo hadn’t been that hard to convince to do it. It was not a bad way to earn extra cash and his older brother was a bit of an exhibitionist. It stroked his starving ego to know people were willing to pay to watch him dominate his little brother-though they kept the fact that they were related secret. For his part, Shouto didn’t really give a damn. The money they got from subscribers was split between Natsuo and Toshiro.
During these times Natsuo only referred to him as “it”. The complete dehumanization was not exactly new to Shouto. My masterpiece, my greatest creation, these were what his father called him. He wasn’t a boy, a son, he was property. It was depressingly hilarious to know that, on some level, Natsuo envied his position. Existing in any state of worth, even if that state fundamentally stripped you of your humanity, was better than being invisible. But nevermind that.
A charge of electricity sparked at the tender skin of his left armpit. Shouto moaned, arching up with the sensation. His dick pulsed at the same time. With his vision obscured, the pain was intensified as he had nothing else to focus on than his nerves being frayed. Already he was panting and they’d just started.
He heard Natsuo laugh, felt the bed dip with the weight of someone settling onto it. The second charge was on his right nipple. They were puffy little nubs, always had been very sensitive to contact, getting hard just from the friction of clothing against them. Having them electrocuted was thrilling, the sharp sensation vibrating through his entire chest.
Another moan fell from his lips, rougher than the first. It was getting hard not to plead for more, but he knew the rules. His teeth dug into his bottom lip savagely, breaking the skin. A charge to his left nipple and the prickle of tears began to form in his eyes. He whined.
“Such a pain slut,” His brother breathed and he could hear how aroused he was in his voice. “How about...” Electricity coursed through the head of his dick. “Here?”
Shouto wailed, writhing as much as he could against the restraints. Natsuo kept on that spot, a second charge. A third, barely any interval between them. By the fourth one Shouto was sobbing, tears soaking the blindfold and leaking down the curve of his cheek. The prod was moved lower, over a vein that ran along the underside of his dick. A spark that he screamed with, come shooting from his dick to splatter onto his stomach.
Natsuo tugged on the circular barbell of the piercing on his perineum. That had been one half his last birthday present to his older brother. Shouto’s breathing came out ragged, tears still streaming down his face while his body twitched uncontrollably.
Fingers were pressing against his lips. He sucked them in greedily, lathing them in a shameless wanton manner. The tips of them stroked over the twin barbells of his venom tongue piercings- the other half of his present, making spit build up in his mouth. It slid out past his lips, running down his chin. Natsuo pressed them in further back and began to thrust them hard, coaxing out wet choking noises and even more spit.
Shouto could hear his brother’s breathing quicken when he reached back far enough to make his head lurch forward from the force of his gagging. Right when he was sure he was going to wretch they withdrew and he was given a stinging slap. And another. And another. Then his jaw was grabbed. “Open.” Natsuo ordered and he did, accepting the spit that dropped into his mouth.
One last slap and his brother moved. The restraints holding him loosened with a click he hardly had time to process before he was grabbed and turned around onto his stomach roughly. Natsuo manhandled him, jerking his hips so he laid face down, ass up in the air. Shouto braced himself for the smack he knew was coming, but hadn’t anticipated that his brother would use his quirk while doing it. He’d covered his hand in a few jagged layers of ice, making the already harsh blow to his ass much more intense then it would have been.
Fingers gripping the sheets, he took the beating he was given for several minutes eagerly, letting out gasps and moans, arching up into the blows. His skin was throbbing, from his ass down to his thighs, hot and burning when Natsuo had his fill and moved his attention back to Shouto’s dick.
He whimpered, trembling as Natsuo played with him. Two fingers massaged his aching dick, just like he had in that bathtub when they were younger. Natsuo let the thumb of his left hand dip between Shouto’s spread cheeks, rub over his tender hole and he couldn’t help but whine with it. His entrance gave a spasm; hungry for more contact.
“It’s a very insatiable bitch.” Natsuo remarked. And then he placed the prod at Shouto’s opening and gave it a shock.
Vision whiting out from the pain, his entire body convulsed and he came again with a broken cry. He rocked forward violently, nearly slamming his face into the headboard. Unable to keep his hips up, his body sagged into the mattress. Shouto was still making weak, cracked noises when he felt Natsuo press his legs tightly together. The head of his brother’s thick dick began pushing past his rim, the stretch almost unbearable as his body had tensed up dramatically from being shocked.
“Fuuuuck,” Natsuo moaned. “That made you even tighter then you usually are, fuck .”
Shouto ground his teeth together and cried harder, it hurt so much. He loved it at the same time he could barely stand it. His head was spinning as Natsuo started thrusting, not giving him any time to adjust. The smack of his pelvis against Shouto’s abused ass drew wet gasps from the younger boy.
Natsuo’s hands gripped his shoulders as he pounded him into the bed. The blindfold over Shouto’s eyes was soaked, the fabric sticking to his skin. His brother fucked him as relentlessly as his father did but unlike him, he could hold out longer. Much longer. “Fucking filthy little slut,” His brother grunted, vicious.
Turning his head to the side, the noises falling from Shouto’s mouth sounded like an animals to his own ears. Had he been allowed to talk, he’d be begging for more, harder, faster, fucking rip me open . The pain he felt was so all encompassing he barely felt himself come again. His body clamping almost impossibly tighter around his brother’s dick set him off. Natsuo gave a few more quick thrusts before seating himself as deeply as he could go and coming hard into him.
Shouto’s entire body was quivering as his brother pulled out. He stayed in place, panting as he heard Toshiro move around then onto the bed, probably getting a closeup of his aching hole. Natsuo’s come was slipping out of it steadily, wetting his thighs.
“Cut it off Tosh.” Natsuo panted.
Shouto groaned weakly as he turned onto his side. He heard Toshiro whistle.
“Damn, you’re still hard.” Toshiro said to him. “You’re like a machine: eat, sleep, fuck.” He looked at Natsou. “Should we do more or…”
“No,” Natsou replied, voice a little more steady. “Go edit the film so we can put it up in the morning.”
As they talked Shouto curled up into himself, unbothered by his still erect dick. The pain from it went along nicely with the pulsing aches over the rest of his body. Natsuo would say he really was like a bitch for how many times he could come during sex.
The door opened and closed. Toshiro had left, a tense silence falling over the room with his departure.
“You can talk now, you know.” Natsuo said awkwardly. “The scene’s over.”
Shouto just shut his eyes, working on settling his breathing. He could feel his brother’s eyes on him. “Alright then.” Natsuo said. He must have gone to the bathroom because after a moment he was sitting beside Shouto, wash cloth in hand.
Frowning, Shouto grabbed ahold of his brother’s wrist when he moved to clean his stomach. He shook his head. He liked feeling all the fluids dry and flake on his skin.
Natsuo sighed. “Don’t fight me on this Shou, I’m cleaning you off or you’ll be gross in the morning.” Recognizing the all too familiar losing battle this would be, Shouto let go of his wrist.
Natsuo’s touches were apologetically gentle. Honestly he was exhausting when he got like this. Full of self disgust and guilt he tried to ease by playing the loving older brother. Telling him he was sorry if he hurt him too much, and this was all their father’s fault, that he’d fucked them up when not long before he was looking at Shouto with hate in his eyes. When earlier he’d drunkenly told him, as he often did, that he wished mother and father had never had a third son. Leaving Shouto unsure of exactly where he stood with his brother. It would be nice for him to pick a side and commit to it.
Tenderness after a brutal fucking was too much for Shouto. It made him feel sick, it made him want to cry. He wished Natsuo would just leave him there, covered in come and tear stains, like his father would. But his brother, for all the sadistic pleasure he got from hurting him, had too much of a heart in him to not feel bad about it afterwards. He couldn’t accept the parts of himself that were a little too much like their father. So this was what they did instead. If it got to be too much, Shouto would just leave. Right now he was too exhausted to do anything but lie there and let Natsuo try and clear his conscience.
Some needle play in this chapter with a side of blood kink, just a heads up.
Shouto had come the very first time his father fucked him, that fat dick of his too big for his little body. Every thrust was agony. And he got off to it. He believed that took Enji by surprise, he certainly hadn’t had his son’s pleasure in mind when he entered his bedroom, ruining the one place in the house he felt safe. He would never forgive him for that. Afterwards, Shouto had cried for hours and slept in the corner of his room on the floor because his bed was now monstrous to him.
He couldn’t understand how it felt so painful, made him sick to his stomach to think of it, yet it also made him feel good. Part of him wondered if that meant he actually liked what his father was doing to him. Of course, he’d eventually discovered it wasn’t his father violating him that got him off. He liked violence and the pain that came with it. It really shouldn’t have been a surprise. Shouto was nurtured at knife-point. While he was capable of softness, it did not come naturally to him.
“How was your weekend with Natsuo?” Fuyumi asked carefully.
Shouto sipped his tea, expression bland. “I can’t say it was uneventful. He kept me busy.” He didn’t miss the way his sister flinched at his words. While she didn’t know about the website, she knew they’d been fooling around ever since she caught them fucking in Shouto’s bedroom.
Fuyumi very slowly put her hand over his, like if she touched him without giving him fair warning he would burn her. “Shouto,” She said. “You're only fifteen. Aren’t you at all interested in boys around your age?” And it really felt like she wanted to add “ and outside the family ” but she didn’t.
He answered her honestly. “No. Not at all.” When he thought about his classmates at Yuuei, they were in a totally different world than him. A world of high school sweethearts and summer crushes. Shouto had been living in a world of adults since he was ten. He had no desire for boys, only men.
This didn’t bother him, but he knew it bothered Fuyumi. She was giving him that sad stare again, like he was a broken doll she didn’t know how to piece back together. He hated that look. Shouto took his hand out from under hers. “I don’t want to talk about this.” He announced, effectively ending the conversation.
He soon heard the lumbering sound of footsteps that could only belong to one individual approaching them. No one else in this family walked like they wanted to put holes in the floor. It used to terrify Shouto, the sound of his father’s footsteps inching closer to his bedroom. Now it just annoyed him.
Fuyumi greeted their father softly, a small touch of anxiety in her tone. Shouto didn’t spare him a glance. Gathering his plate, he stood up right as his father sat down.
“Sit.” Enji ordered.
Shouto stared at him, face devoid of any emotion. “Why? I’m finished eating.”
“Because I told you to.”
He sat down, stiffly. Not because of intimidation, but because Shouto could recognize clear as day when his father was in one of those moods. He was practically dying to fuck him, if it didn’t happen right now it would happen immediately afterwards. Shouto had no real control over it, he wasn’t strong enough yet. But he pretended he did by choosing to antagonize the man to spur him into getting it over with.
Really, he ought to feel guilty for doing this in front of Fuyumi. It never failed to send her running sobbing to her room. A mean part of himself wanted her to feel bad though. She looked at him like he was fucked up, damaged but all this happened with her living under the same roof and never once did she try to lift a finger so what did that say about her?
Shouto looked at her, taking in the stiffness of her posture, the trembling over her hands as she held her chopsticks. Coward , he thought.
“S-Shouto,” She said, apparently unable to handle the tense silence between them. “Would you like to come with me to the movies this weekend?”
He opened his mouth to reply but his father beat him to it. “No, he’s already wasted one weekend with his useless brother. Shouto has training to make up for.”
“What kind of training is that going to be?” Shouto asked. “Actual training or our very special training?”
Enji’s eyes narrowed. “Watch your mouth with me boy.”
That made him scoff. “Whatever. You seem to like my mouth just fine in other contexts.”
His father set his bowl down. “Are you really trying to test me, in front of your sister?” His tone became more threatening. “You’ve gotten far too comfortable being blatantly disrespectful with me boy. I’m beginning to think you enjoy being disciplined. Perhaps if your sister takes your punishment you’ll remember your place.”
This was like some kind of bizarre mating ritual between them. Pre hate-fucking banter if you will. Enji had threatened to beat his sister before, but never to fuck her. In his gut, Shouto had more than a pretty good idea why. And right now, he was feeling fed up enough, reckless enough, to call the old man’s bluff. He looked at Fuyumi, her pale skin and eyes wide with absolute terror. Don’t , they said as they fell on his own, Please don’t, I’m begging you .
God he couldn’t stand her sometimes. She let herself be walked all over, she kept her mouth shut and their families awful secrets tucked away. And for what? Some stupid dream of them miraculously transforming into a sitcom family? She was too old to be so foolish. “Bullshit.” Shouto said, heedless to her plea.
If he were capable of it, he was sure Enji would have steam coming out of his nose right now. “What?” He said, more a final warning than a question. A giant red flag being waved in front of Shouto’s face. Danger, danger, danger.
“You’re implying that you’ll rape her. I know you won’t.” Shouto leaned in close, feeling the heat radiating off his father’s body. “I know you can’t . We both know what your preference is. You can only last long enough inside a woman to put a baby in her and you don’t have the pills or the want for a baby with Fuyumi.”
Faggot , the word was on the tip of Shouto’s tongue. That’s what his father had hypocritically called him when Shouto came out and when he saw his piercings. A goddamn faggot. Well pot, meet kettle. After being in his father’s bed for so long, he learned more than a few things about the man.
He never got the chance to say it though, because his father was on him in an instant. That big hand of his gripped Shouto’s face and slammed him onto the floor. Enji straddled him then, sitting on his chest while he held Shouto’s wrists above his head in an iron grip.
He heard his sister rising from the table and doing what she did best, running away.
“You know what I think Shouto,” His father taunted. “I think you missed this. That’s the only reason I can see for you practically begging for it.”
“Fuck you, you piece of shit.” Shouto snarled. “You goddamned pussy.”
Enji laughed. “I think you’re the pussy in this situation. But I’m not going to use yours right now, you’d enjoy that too much. You always do."
He opened his pants enough to pull out his dick. Shouto kept his mouth shut in a tight line as Enji slapped the thick organ over his lips and face. His father heated up the hand that was holding his wrist until it was scalding hot. And Shouto tried, he really tried to keep his fucking mouth shut but it just kept getting hotter and hotter until he couldn’t help but gasp. Which his father immediately took advantage of, shoving his dick inside his mouth.
“You play hard to get,” Enji grunted, thrusting in deep. “But everything about your body tells me you love this.”
Once Shouto had reluctantly stayed with Natsuo and Toshiro while they marathoned movies from some Western director- something Kubrick, he was pretty sure that was his name. Toshiro loved him, he couldn’t shut up about his film techniques and themes. Only one part of his whole spiel stuck with Shouto, when he’d been talking to them about the famous Kubrick stare. That was apparently a moment when there was a shot of a person's face, the look in their eyes indicating a break with reality, with rational thought. A prelude to violence.
Shouto was pretty certain he was giving his father that look right now. Granted, given the fact that he had Enji’s dick in his mouth, it definitely lacked an element of intimidation.
If he wanted, with a flick of his tongue he could have frost seeping into the slit of his father’s dick. He could make it spread throughout his body, freezing him from the inside out. Of course he knew his father would never let it go that far. He’d just heat himself up. Shouto’s ice had frequently been described as devastating in its power but against his father it was as effective as butter against a hot knife.
Speaking of hot, his father’s dick was heating up as it pounded his throat. Shouto barely choked, regrettably used to how his father did oral sex, but he did moan as the heat began to burn his tongue and throat. It hurt. A lot. Like he was actually worried it would melt his tongue piercings. His own dick was hard in his sweatpants. Of course it was. Dammit.
“That’s it,” Enji groaned, touching the tears leaking from Shouto’s eyes. “Now you’re being a proper bitch for me.” He pinched Shouto’s nose closed and now he actually was gagging, and squirming underneath his father. Little, fearful whimpers involuntarily fell from his mouth, his tears falling harder as his throat constricted with the desperate need to breathe.
Black spots danced in his vision, which was growing fuzzier and fuzzier as he struggled in his father’s hold. Enji’s thrusts were becoming sloppy, he was close but Shouto wasn’t sure if he’d be able to hold out long enough for that. Air, he just needed a little air-
Enji suddenly pushed deep into his throat, coming with low moan. “Swallow it.” He told Shouto. And with the last bit of consciousness in him he did as he was told. His nose was released, but not fast enough to keep him from passing out.
Death by dick sucking definitely had a certain ring to it. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on how you looked at it, Shouto did not die deepthroating his father’s dick. No, he woke up a little bit later, in exactly the same position he’d blacked out in. Sprawled ungracefully out on the floor.
Huh, usually Fuyumi would take him to his room if their father knocked him out. But she hadn’t this time. He’d probably pissed her off. Her purse wasn’t on the counter anymore. The thought of her waltzing out of the house past her unconscious, spit soaked brother was almost funny. What a model family they were.
Just another evening in the Todoroki household. Nothing out of the ordinary here.
Aizawa wouldn’t call himself a homebody by any means. He had an active, albeit not excessively so, social life. Got out a healthy amount. So he didn’t feel too concerned about cancelling his evening plans with Hizashi and Nemuri. There would always be other nights for them to get together.
It was a little worrisome how much he’d anticipated going back to the site now that he had a membership. He told himself it was just curiosity, once he saw Shy’s full face he’d be sated and not feel so drawn to the website. He waited until he had 75 percent of roundup evaluations finished before taking a break.
Pretty. That was the very first thought that came to Aizawa’s mind when he was presented with a photo of Shy’s uncovered face. He was a very pretty young man, his features soft. His eyes were an alluring shade of violet.
His intrigue had been fed, but Aizawa found himself scrolling through the members exclusive videos rather than immediately returning to his work. It didn’t take him long to find a clip to watch.
Needle Whore, partial POV: If I allowed it, Shy would have more piercings than it does. It loves needles, so I spoiled it a little.
The start of the video was a slow pan over Shy’s face, focusing primarily on his mouth. Aizawa had noticed that Shy had a particular way of licking his lips. He would tuck his bottom lip underneath his tongue when it peeked out, while the top of his mouth pressed down on his tongue like he was partially biting it. A cute little individual trait of his.
Several minutes were spent focusing on Shy fingering his own mouth, coaxing drool out. Aizawa’s dick twitched with interest and he palmed himself lazily. Then Sir’s hands came into the frame, holding a long medical needle, pressing it against Shy’s lips. One could see that the length of the needle spanned from one side of his face to the other.
“Open,” Sir ordered and Shy obediently let his mouth fall open.
Shy shuddered as tip of the needle pressed against his left cheek. Sir’s insertion of the needle through his cheek was tantalizingly slow, and the camera angle was a closeup of Shy’s face, allowing Aizawa to see every little twitch from the pain, the flutter of his lashes, how the corners of his eyes pricked with tears. He became more focused on that then watching the progression of the piercing.
Inside Shy’s open mouth, you could clearly see the silver needle. He was panting as it continued its path, a small part of his right cheek poking out before the tip pushed through. Shy moaned, eyelids fluttering. Aizawa mirrored the sound. Little twin trails of blood fell from the entry and end point of the needle.
Sir pierced his cheek again with an identical needle. Then he produced a silver tray with twenty shorter needles on it. Aizawa’s breathing quickened. For the following ten minutes Shy’s upper and lower lips were gradually pierced, ten needles on top and ten needles on the bottom. His mouth became flushed and swollen, drool running down his chin.
Tears fell from Shy’s eyes, and his lips quivered slightly. He was hot, Aizawa thought, tears suited him well.
Sir began removing each needle, drawing out the process. Shy’s body shuddered as each of them were pulled out. When the final piercing through his cheek was removed, he let out a soft whimper.
A puddle of blood was being held inside his mouth, and it gushed forward when his domme’s dick pushed past his swollen lips. Shy kept his arms held behind his back and the subservience of that position was incredibly sexy. There wasn’t a lot of build up from Sir thrusting his dick shallowly in Shy’s mouth to him pushing in deeper but Aizawa was at this point stroking himself hard and fast, so he didn’t mind the pace.
Shy’s eyelids hung heavy, his expression blissful as his throat was fucked. Aizawa could see the muscles of his neck straining with each deep thrust. Thin little streams of blood and spit trickled out from on and around those rosy lips, left droplets on his chest. Gradually the streams and droplets increased, as did the muffled gurgles and gags from Shy. Yet he did not attempt to move away. His domme gave a hum; pleased it seemed by his sub’s obedience; and thrust his hips further; the thick white hairs of his groin and balls pressing into Shy’s face.
He coughed briefly before letting out a whine when Sir at last pulled out of his swollen mouth. A long string of blood and spit hung from his lower lip. While Sir jerked himself off Shy dipped his head down to lap at his balls, panting hard against the sensitive skin.
With the majority of Sir’s body out of frame it was all too easy for Aizawa to imagine himself in the domme’s position. Dick soaked with blood, precum, and spit, rubbing slick into his fist while an abused and eager mouth pleasured him. And it was his hand that tangled in Shy’s hair and pulled him back. He was the one Shy opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out for, eyes staring up glassy at him, full of hunger-
Aizawa threw his head back, his body arching in his seat as he came hard, a guttural moan pulled from his lips. He rode his orgasm out for a few minutes. When he finally came down from it the video was on its final few seconds. Shy had a small smile on his come stained face, the sticky white streaked across his nose and mouth, dripping from his chin.
Cute , was all Aizawa could think.
His cell phone pinged. It was Nezu, he’d need their roundup evaluations by the end of the evening instead of tomorrow afternoon.
Fuck. Aizawa closed out of the website to resume his work.
That following morning Aizawa made his way to class. Despite what Nemuri had claimed he didn’t really get any more amount of sleep than he usually did despite having a good orgasm before going to bed. She would probably tell him he just needed to have more than one, so he didn’t bring it up when he passed her in the hallways.
He had a tendency to linger outside the doorway for a little bit before going into the classroom. Just to study the students, it gave him good ideas about who to pair up with who during gym class and also helped him get a feel for the overall dynamic of the class.
Standing outside the room, he found his attention drawn to the back of the classroom. Yaoyorozu and Midoriya were talking animatedly with Todoroki, who didn’t appear to be doing much more than listening to them.
At one point, Todoroki wet his lips. Nothing unusual about that in and of itself. It was the way he did it, tucking his lower lip underneath his tongue. The movement caught Aizawa’s attention immediately.
Shy licked his lips the exact same way.
Once he made that connection, far fetched as it may be, Aizawa couldn’t unsee it. He thought of what Shy looked like with his face uncovered, and there was definitely a resemblance between him and Todoroki. He’d never really looked at the boy in any other context than him being his student, but he could admit the kid was pretty. That was the most apt description one could give him. There was also the fact that he was rather certain Shy’s head hair was an expensive wig. If that was the case, it wasn’t too outside the realm of possibility for him to also be wearing contacts and makeup-
Aizawa watched as Todoroki interacted with Midoriya, the shorter boy gravitating into his space, looking at him with so much warmth. An obvious crush. All of which seemed to go totally over his top student’s head. No way , he just couldn’t see Todoroki doing online sex work. Or anything illegal for that matter. He was just so...straight-laced. He had to be making an absurd leap of logic based on the most trivial detail. The way Shy licked his lips wasn’t that unique after all.
Letting the matter go, he entered the room, getting the classes full attention.
During lunch break, rather than take his usual seat at the table with Midoriya, Iida and Uraraka, Shouto wandered over to Yaoyorozu’s table. Really it was because he had questions about the math lesson, but he also liked her company. A nice break from the usual.
“Todoroki I think if Midoriya stared at you any longer you’d have holes in the back of your head.” Jirou commented, sipping on her strawberry milk carton.
Shouto looked up from his text book. “What are you talking about?”
He blinked. “Would I ask if it was?”
Jirou’s sigh was decidedly put-upon. “He’s got it for you, bad . Everyone knows he likes you.”
“I like him too,” Shouto shrugged. “He’s a good friend.”
“No, he doesn’t just like you Todoroki,” Yaoyorozu stressed. “He like-likes you.”
“...Oh.” Shouto said flatly.
Jirou gave him an incredulous stare. “I can’t believe you haven’t noticed, he’s not exactly being subtle.”
“He really isn’t.” Yaoyorozu agreed.
How do I tell them I’m shit at recognizing attraction being directed at me from anyone under the age of 25? Shouto thought. Simple answer was to not say a word about that out loud.
Now that he thought about it, Midoriya had gotten a little more touchy with him for a bit now. Grabbing his arm to lead him somewhere, a hand on the shoulder. Plus he was now also calling Shouto by his first name.
Chancing a glance over at their table, he locked eyes with none other than Midoriya, who hastily looked away.
Should he talk to Midoriya about it? Find a way to let the boy down easy, or just keep playing like he was too dense to read the signals? Thinking back on it, he got the feeling his friend has been nursing this crush since the Stain incident. Quite a while ago then, yet he still couldn’t bring himself to just, well, shoot his shot as the saying went. Shouto didn’t want to make things awkward with someone he genuinely liked and all too often rejection was fatal for friendships.
Slurping down the last of his soba, he decided it was in his best interest to keep playing the oblivious pretty-boy.
Natsuo told Shouto once that when he was little, no one held him as much as Touya. Not even their mother. Their older brother would come home from school and immediately want to hold him, even if he was asleep in their mother’s arms Touya would talk her into handing him over. And after his training, when he was battered and on the verge of tears, he would cradle Shouto in his arms and that always made him feel better. Natsuo tells him all of this with no small amount of bitterness. A part of Shouto wondered if maybe he would have been able to care for him without the moments of resentment had he spent more time with him as an infant and toddler. It’s easier to hate someone who is virtually a stranger to you.
He couldn’t bring himself to be upset with Touya over it though. Touya was special to him, above all others. It’s funny because all he’d ever done with his oldest brother was kiss and cuddle. But those memories hang like a heart-shaped locket in Shouto’s mind. Whenever he thought about love, he was always thinking about Touya.
Shouto’s pretty sure he’d done a good job of not letting Natsuo know that he was glorified sloppy seconds. Not in terms of sex, because he doesn’t want to fuck Touya the way he fucks Natsuo. More in regard to emotional investment. He cared about Natsuo, but there was a hard limit to how much he was willing to put up with from him.
Case in point, they were in Natsuo’s dorm, him laid out on his back with his arms folded behind his head. Meanwhile Shouto was sitting up on the opposite end of the bed, pressing on his newest batch of welts. They couldn’t fuck the way he really wanted to on campus because they would get too loud, but Natsuo worked with him on this. He’d beat Shouto’s thighs up with his belt.
Natsuo was still breathing hard from their first round. “You still hard?” He asked.
“Yup.” Shouto replied.
“Gimmie a sec and I’ll take care of you.”
Shouto shrugged. “It can wait for now. I like the ache.” And honestly, he didn’t want Natsuo to just give him a blowjob or jerk him off. Sometimes his brother tried to get him off with no pain being involved and every single time he was unsuccessful. It seemed to be a sore spot for him.
“You did come a lot.” Natsuo conceded with a laugh. He went quiet for a long moment. “Does dad make you come too?”
“So what if he does? What’s that got to do with us?”
“It’s just...I do fuck you better than dad, right?” Natsuo asked, and he had the gall to have actual uncertainty in his voice.
Shouto grimaced. “What kind of question is that? Who fucks me better, the man who doesn’t give me any choice in the matter or the guy I willingly come to over and over? Gosh Natsuo-nii, I just don’t know.” He waved his hand when Natsuo reached for him. “No. You’re pissing me off. Stop being so needy.” That was the fastest he’d ever lost an erection. Bye bye Little Shou. In moments like these it really felt like his brother was trying to fuck their mom using Shouto as a proxy. Begging for praise. If he was that insecure about his performance, well, that was his own damn problem. “If you want someone to pat your head and tell you how good you are go fuck our grandma.”
Natsuo huffed, “You’re such a bitch sometimes.” He complained, honest to god hurt over this non-issue.
Rolling his eyes, Shouto was about to give him more than a little piece of his mind, but stopped when Toshiro entered the room.
“Have you checked the site today? A lot of the subscribers are asking for a live chat with Shouto,” Toshiro said, cheerful as he took off his bomber jacket. For the life of him Shouto wondered how this guy was going to be a successful director because he sure could not read a room.
Natsuo responded with an immediate, “No.”
“Why not?” Shouto asked, still frowning.
“I don’t want them to hear your voice.”
That was a weak excuse. Shouto gave his brother a knowing look. “So I’ll just type my responses.”
“I said no Shou.”
“It’s not your decision Natsuo. I’m the one they’re asking for, so I’ll decide.” Shouto turned to Toshiro. “I think it could be...fun.”
“No, you just want extra attention from the perverts online. You’re such a fucking ho.” Natsuo remarked, pouting.
Shouto clicked his tongue, unimpressed. “The ho that you can’t stop fucking, that you send incomprehensible texts to when you’re drunk and lonely. Are we really going to pretend you’d be happy with a sweet, innocent twink? I know exactly what you want Natsuo-nii, you want your little ho brother.” He made a face when he realized that entire response was very Gone Girl of him. He really needed to stop watching movies with these two. Still, it wasn’t like he was wrong.
In front of them Toshiro shifted awkwardly on his feet. “Should I go and give you time to think it over or…”
“No.” Shouto said. “Put it up that I’ll do the live chat tomorrow night. But I’m not going to speak and they have to pay for access.”
Toshiro glanced at his brother, silently asking for mutual agreement. Natsuo shut his eyes, inhaled deeply then let out a long sigh. “Fine, whatever.” He said.
“Alright,” Toshiro said, and he began to sit down at his desk but Shouto cleared his throat. When their eyes met he inclined his head towards the door, his message clear.
Toshiro stood up. “Ah, I’ll just do this in the library.” He shoved his laptop into a bag and left them.
Shouto could feel Natsuo’s body temperature getting more and more frigid from where his leg was touching him. That was always a sign that he was pissed off. Which would be fine, if he channeled that anger into a decidedly harsh fucking but he wasn’t doing that. Instead he was just lying back on his bed, looking very much put out. “You’re not five you know.” Shouto said in a dry tone.
Natsuo flipped him the bird. “Fuck off.” Was added for emphasis.
“How about this,” Shouto was always willing to practice manipulating or bargaining with someone into doing what he wanted. “You can pick out what I’ll wear for the live chat.” Natsuo made a noise he took for agreement, looking a little less peeved. Moving on the bed, Shouto slowly climbed on top of his brother’s body, making sure to arch his back just right. He leaned down until his lips were a fraction apart from Natsuo’s. “Now, are we going to have sex again or are you going to stay like this for the rest of the night? If you’re still mad at me, at least put that energy to good use.”
With surprising speed, Natsuo grabbed his face with one hand and his neck with the other. His fingers dug into Shouto’s cheeks, making his lips poke out. Meanwhile his other hand was tight around Shouto’s throat.
“I can’t stand you sometimes.” Natsuo ground out, squeezing harder.
Shouto’s eyes fluttered shut as he sighed. “I know.” That was when he liked his brother the best, when his feelings for him were far from loving. No tender touches, just a good hard fucking.
Another night he carved out time to get on the website. It really was becoming a regular habit. If anything should ever happen to Aizawa, he’d need to let Nemuri know to clear his browser history for this past month.
Later Aizawa would chastise himself for how little thought he gave paying for an invite to the live chat Shy had set up. Usually he was pretty frugal about his spending habits, so these little indulgences were starting to add up. He’d do that later though.
At first Shy was not in the frame when the webcam came online. They didn’t have to wait long for him however, he was soon crawling to sit cross legged on the hotel bed.
Shy was wearing a grey cutoff hoodie, the shortness of it exposing his toned stomach. He paired that black mesh underwear that looked a couple sizes too small for him. His hair was pulled up into a messy bun, with several loose strands falling to frame his face. He gave a little wave at the webcam before he began typing.
shy4him : i won’t answer personal questions regarding my location, occupation, family background or education. just about anything else is fair game as long as i feel comfortable with it.
Several people commented confirming they understood the guidelines before an actual question came in.
shatteredpulse : which of your scenes do you like the most?
Shy tapped his chin, his brow furrowing.
shy4him : probably the scene with the hooks, where i had the miniature ones in my nipples and foreskin.
mistertorn : your nipples are to die for, they’re so puffy they’re like a girls
shy4him : ha, sir says the same thing.
dudesindistress : the age gap between you and sir is pretty small, is that what you prefer?
shy4him: sir is actually almost too young by my standards. of course, i’m happy i made an exception but my preference is usually 30 and up
As he read the various catcalls and propositions he received for that information, Shy snorted. His attention was momentarily diverted to something out of frame, and when it returned to the screen there was a new question.
shatteredpulse : what’s the most orgasms you’ve had during sex?
With a small smile Shy held up seven fingers.
mistertorn : how much does that hurt?was there even any cum left in you??
shy4him : i only start to get sore on the fourth and up orgasms. they’re usually dry ones. seventh was very, very painful but that’s what i like. we’ll probably do a forced orgasm scene soon.
He received a number of impressed responses. Aizawa could see a blush starting to form on his cheeks, it was faint but visible.
westrange : ever been in a chastity cage
shy4him : yes, once but it turned out to be too much of a hassle due to time constraints. it was fun while it lasted though.
se7enbondgage : what did it look like?
shy4him : one second.
An image was uploaded into the chat. It showcased a silver chastity cage with several nails that would poke the head and length of one’s dick should it become aroused. The locking mechanism was inserted in the urethra. It attached to a second cage that wrapped around the balls. Overall, an incredibly uncomfortable looking device. Aizawa was impressed.
se7enbondage: that’s fucking wild
dudesindistress : respect
mistertorn : you’re a little freak. i love that shit
These comments made Shy laugh, and he hid his face in his hands for a moment. The action made his whole face seem to light up. What followed were several comments attesting to his beauty. While Aizawa agreed with them, he didn’t want to join in the chorus. Instead he finally decided to ask Shy a question he was genuinely curious about.
reflectivedesire : is there anything you really want to try that sir won’t do?
Shy appeared to consider his answer for a few minutes.
shy4him : waterboarding and any other form of water torture. also usually he doesn’t want to do anything involving knives and cutting, though we have done a wet cupping scene with rope bondage. there’s a few other things, he’s got more hard limits than me to be honest.
thevertigonetwork : what are some of your hard limits?
shy4him : no bootlicking. nothing with vomit, nothing with scat.
westrange : what about piss
shy4him : depends on the usage. i don’t mind getting pissed on or in but i’m not drinking it.
Shy grimaced and did a thumbs down gesture. Which prompted several disappointed responses and pleas for him to possibly reconsider. He shook his head after reading them. It took a few minutes, but finally someone moved onto a different topic.
kinkyqueer: can we see ur feet again? ur foot whipping clip is my all time fave, would love 4 them 2 get more screentime. they’re delicious looking.
shy4him : sir actually wants to do another clip where i jerk him off with my feet but i am very ticklish there so it's hard to do it without laughing constantly. but sure!
Moving further back on the bed, Shy laid back and bent his legs up, showing the soles of his feet. Aizawa wasn’t much of a foot person himself. If he had to form an opinion on them he’d say they looked nice enough, as soft as the rest of the man’s body. He was more focused on the movement of Shy’s thighs as he pulled his knees up further towards his chest. Shy pointed his toes downward to give them a different angle. He held them like that for a few moments, twitching each of his toes, before resuming his original position on the bed.
Aizawa was very much aware that this Q&A was only providing them with the illusion of intimacy. They were very much still customers in Shy’s eyes, nothing more and nothing less. But as the chat went on, and Shy began hiding yawns behind his hand and his expressions became a touch lazier and further relaxed, it was easy to forget that this was a business transaction. He was charmed by the man, and getting attached in a way that was alarming enough to him to cause him to exit the chat early.
Yeah, he definitely needed a break from the internet.
His father was well aware that he and Natsuo were fucking. Endeavor wasn’t a fool, he noticed Shouto always came back from spending nights or weekends with his brother sporting new bruises. He didn’t get violently possessive about it like Shouto had expected him to. No, he thought, as he usually did, that this all revolved around him. That Shouto was using Natsuo as a substitute dick for his father. On some level he was clearly insulted his greatest creation would stoop so low but it also fed his vanity and drove him to fuck Shouto with the enthusiasm of someone looking to reassert their ownership over another. So after Shouto came home from time away with Natsuo, his father turned into a very hotblooded Energizer Bunny. Remember this dick, Shouto? Yeah, nothing compares to it , huh?
Which, honestly? Yeah his father was kind of in a class all his own when it came to sex. But it was the self-hating rapist class so how much of an achievement was that really? A volatile combination of repression, obsession and aggression. He needed to be locked up. He needed professional help but for now he was self medicating via fucking his youngest son as he had been for years.
Shouto had put his shoes away and was all ready to head to his room when the kitchen light flickered on. “You’re back early.” Endeavor remarked with a distinctive slight slur to his words. “Natsuo not able to fuck you good enough this time?”
What the fuck? Shouto had texted Fuyumi he’d be coming home now instead of the following morning. Had his father just been standing in the kitchen waiting for him to get home? Apparently. And not just standing, Shouto thought, eyeing the empty whisky bottle on the counter. Also drinking. For the life of him he couldn’t figure out what was so bad with the great Endeavor’s life that he needed to chase away with booze. Definitely not a guilty conscience, his father wasn’t capable of that. The whole trapped in the closet thing? Well that was a prison of his own making.
“You’re drunk,” Shouto said as he began to make his way past the kitchen. “And I’m tired, so I’m going to bed.”
His arm was taken in a vice-like grip, halting his movements. Endeavor reached out for him, brushing some of his bangs aside. To the unfamiliar it was a gentle display but Shouto knew better. With his father, any display of tenderness would be followed up with violence. “What if I told you if you ever saw him again, I’d kill him?”
Shouto inhaled deeply. Then he rolled his eyes. “I’d say it isn’t very heterosexual of you to be jealous of another man fucking your son.”
Okay, he was asking for the backhand he received for that remark. A hand grabbed the back of his hair, yanking his head to stare up at his father. Shouto ground his teeth and spit out. “God forbid I look for some dick that actually makes me feel good.”
“You say that like you don’t come every single time I fuck you.” Endeavor said, his hand tightening in Shouto’s hair. “In any case your pleasure is not my concern.”
“Well at least you’re being honest.” Shouto replied with a sneer.
Internally he was bracing himself to be thrown onto the kitchen island and brutalized. Or on the floor. A lot of potential possibilities. None of them included his father smashing their lips together. Apart from freezing up on the spot, he offered no other reaction. Stunned into passive silence. Because this? This was uncharted territory. His father never kissed him.
But even while doing something new, Enji couldn’t keep from doing it in that special way of his. Which meant he was kissing Shouto violently, like he wanted to eat his goddamned lips.
He gasped when his bottom lip was bitten, feeling the skin break. The wound quickly began to bleed and his father stopped and licked the blood off Shouto’s mouth. If this was supposed to be foreplay, it was the most unsettling kind. His father was giving off severe serial killer vibes.
“You’re mine,” Endeavor said when he finally seemed to have enough of Shouto’s lips. “ Mine .”
What had he said before about his father not getting violently possessive over him fucking other people? He should have known better. Good things never lasted long with this family.
Sometimes his father was just as indecisive as Natsuo, unsure whether he wanted to treat Shouto like a walking fleshlight or his downlow boy toy. Thank goodness Shouto rarely had to deal with the latter. He got the distinct impression that part of Endeavor held the fact that he was attracted not just to men, but to his own kid against him. Of course it was all his fault. Shouto had just been a devil in disguise since he was 8. A walking nymphet tempting his father from the path of righteousness and socially acceptable straight behavior. What with his prepubescent body and wide, fearful eyes.
Anyway, every so often, there would be these disconcerting moments of domesticity between them. Oh Shouto, I know I just fucked you raw and you didn’t actually want it but let's take a shower together it will make you feel so much better.
His father was so big he sucked up most of the space in the shower. Were it not for the double showerhead Shouto wouldn’t even be wet. It made him feel claustrophobic, caged in a very “don’t drop the soap” kind of way.
With practiced speed he cleaned himself, suds and hot water running over newly formed bruises on his pale skin. He looked like someone threw paint on a marble statue. A pretty ruined piece of art. He nearly flinched when his father started washing his back. But he was determined not to let the man know there was still a small part of himself that lived in fear of Endeavor’s touch.
After his father appeared to have deemed the work on his back sufficient and turned his attention back to himself, Shouto tried to leave but of course Endeavor wasn’t finished with him.
“I want you to clean me,” He said, pointing down towards his feet. “here.”
You’ve got to be fucking joking. “You’re not that drunk and you’re not that old.” Shouto sneered. “Wash your own damn feet.”
“ Now Shouto,” Endeavor said, not quite a shout but not quiet either. And dammit, Shouto actually did flinch this time. He breathed through his nose like a bull, seeing red, red, red in front of him. But he couldn’t afford to lose his shit. Pick your battles wisely, as they said.
So he turned and dropped to his knees. He opened his mouth to make another retort, his tongue the only weapon he could wield, but Endeavor cut him off.
“ Without speaking.” His father emphasized.
Fuck off , Shouto barely kept himself from responding verbally. Despite his attempts to keep his expression impassive he could feel the little twitches happening in his facial muscles. Broadcasting a clear message: he was pissed.
Shouto was game for just about any activity that fed into his sexual masochism. What he did not enjoy were pretty much all acts of subtle and overt humiliation at his expense (who elses?). And he knew his father was aware of that. This was his way of humbling him.
All of his muscles were tense as he set about washing his father’s feet, cleaning them diligently with the washcloth. Once the left foot was finished he started on the right and Endeavor put a hand on his head, fingers clenching around his hair. Shouto’s hand immediately came up to try and knock his father’s away but the grip in his hair only tightened. Painfully. Which was the last thing Shouto wanted. He refused to get hard over any aspect of what he was doing right now.
After several minutes spent cleaning his father’s right foot, Endeavor drew his hand away.
Shouto looked up at his father, knowing there was hatred in his eyes. “Satisfied?” He ground out. The only silver lining was that his dick had managed to stay limp.
“Get up,” Endeavor said by way of answering.
Again, Shouto did as he was told. He was grabbed and pulled roughly against his father’s body. Treated to another mauling imitation of a kiss. God, was this going to become a thing now? He wanted to scrub his mouth out.
Shouto tried to push himself away from Endeavor, but the man kept him held against his body like iron shackles. What is the deal with him tonight? He’s never been a sentimental drunk. He’s never held him unless it was to pin him down, to keep him from jerking and squirming away. Violence was the only language his father spoke in that Shouto understood.
Endeavor ducked his head down. “You look so much like your mother,” His nose pressed into Shouto’s hair. “You even smell like her…”
Of all the nasty, obscene things his father had said to him over the years those two sentences filled Shouto with a visceral level of nausea unlike anything he’d ever experienced. The knowledge that he was apparently the perfect combination of what his father felt he should want and what he actually desired sat on his shoulders like a life sentence. Damning and inescapable. Just fuck him right into a fresh grave. He was stiff as a board as his father kept nuzzling his goddamned hair, feeling bile rise in his throat. It felt like they stood like that for hours. Until suddenly he was shoved away.
“Leave.” Endeavor told him, actually sounding like himself now. Harsh and immovable.
That was one order Shouto gladly followed.
Apparently Shouto’s lackluster reaction to the news that Midoriya had a crush on him had been taken as a proverbial gauntlet thrown down in front of Yaoyorozu, Jirou and well, pretty much all the girls in the class now. Because one person’s business was apparently everyone’s business. At least when it came to the preminent class queer.
He decided to allow them to play at being a matchmaker, knowing he’ll only allow this sideshow to go surface-deep. He’s not actually going to commit to anything they try to set up for him. For now at least, they’re mostly engrossed in theorizing who among the boys would be an ideal match for him. Its stupid, light-hearted child’s play.
“Midoriya’s a sweetheart,” Mina pressed him, because right now they were back to trying to convince him to give his friend a shot. “You two would be so cute together!”
Yaoyorozu nodded. “I think he’d treat you really well Shouto.” There was a knowing edge to her tone that made his gaze sharpen as he looked at her.
He doubted the other classmates were privy to it, but he’d known Yaoyorozu since before Yuuei. Rich brats running in similar circles and what not. She’d been his first and only friend, but they had experienced a falling out in middle school when the whole “I’m regularly being raped by my father” issue had rendered Shouto antisocial. Especially following the unfortunate incident with their short-lived pet cat.
Fuyumi had purchased her for him. Which he still didn’t understand why. Hey little bro, I know it sucks that Papa’s using you for sex but have this cute cat to take your mind off things. What are big sister’s for? A month after she had gotten her, while cleaning Shouto’s room, Fuyumi found the cat dead, burned to a crisp, her claws scattered in the corner alongside her corpse. Shouto never even named her, just the sight of that animal filled him with hatred.
They’d taken him to a doctor afterwards. Shouto barely spoke a word but he listened. He remembered the woman speaking to their father about “sociopathic tendencies” when she heard about his pervasive bedwetting in combination with the cat’s gruesome death. And he’d drawn a picture of his family at her request. He’d drawn them surrounded by a sea of black. She’d asked him if it was the sky and he told her the truth: they were being buried alive.
His father had pulled him out of school, and from then on all of Shouto’s education was handled by the finest instructors money could buy. One of them discovered a bird he’d burned alive, but decided not to inform his father. Shouto had been very persuasive. The bedwetting didn’t stop until he turned thirteen.
He frowned, biting the inside of his cheek to chase those memories away. They made him feel like shit frankly. If he could torture and burn a defenseless animal alive, what was he capable of doing to a person? He knew the answer. It terrified him.
“I will never be into him like that.” Shouto finally said. “Ever.”
A hard truth. Midoriya was like freshly fallen snow, pure and unspoiled. Shouto thought that in some miraculous, forever out of reach alternate reality he could have maybe liked him right back. As it stood however, he was a proverbial bottomless pit and he knew if he let Midoriya inside of him the boy would fall and never be able to climb out of the fucked up hole that was Shouto Todoroki. He would bury him alive.
Yaoyorozu sighed. “You’re always so stubborn.”
Beside her, Hagakure tsked. “It’s not his fault, he’s a capricorn.”
“You’ve shot down pretty much every guy in our class,” Mina said with a pout. “I didn’t know you’d be so picky.”
Shouto shrugged, expression still blank. “I know what I want and no one here fits the bill.”
Not entirely true. To be honest, if he had to pick anyone among the other boys as fitting his tastes, well, the only person he could think of was Bakugou. The explosive blond’s volatile disposition and the ease with which he became violent were promising. Clearly he had a sadistic streak. In theory, it would be fun to see how much that extended to sex. Too bad he was two decades too young. There was also the fact that he reminded Shouto of Endeavor often, which made any prospect of fucking the boy too weird to be appealing. He’d probably walk away from that feeling like he needed to be psychoanalyzed. Strange how fucking his brother didn’t produce the same reaction.
Jirou appeared to be the least invested in this whole ordeal, but she did speak up. “Well what do you want?”
To get absolutely, hatefully railed and then left to lie in the filth . Shouto thought. What he actually said was, “Someone taller.” Deadpan.
He almost smiled at the chorus of groans that elicited. Almost.
Given his father’s threat, Shouto probably ought to have exercised more caution when deciding whether or not to visit Natsuo again. Maybe waited a few weeks, hell even a month for their father’s little tantrum to die down. But he had an itch and if Endeavor got to scratch his by getting off in him whenever he felt like it, then well, Shouto would be damned if he didn’t follow suit.
In the hotel bathroom, he touched up his makeup while Natsuo and Toshiro set up. Really it was more to pass the time than out of necessity. He only bought the most expensive cosmetics because frankly you get what you pay for and anything less than top dollar would run and wear off from all his crying.
“It’s too bad we can’t show your real eye colors,” Toshiro remarked, doing a dramatic flourish with his hand as he passed by the bathroom, “Storm cloud grey and crystal blue like the ocean. Those eyes were made to be on film. Men would get swept away in those eyes.”
Shouto frowned as he put the violet contacts in. “You’re so cheesy.”
“I’m a romantic.” Toshiro countered.
“A romantic pornographer, that’s original.” Shouto said, looking himself over. In the name of mixing things up, he’d agreed to wear lingerie Natsuo bought him. Agent Provocateur, really expensive and flimsy looking shit. He had so much respect for people who wore that shit regularly, it was a pain in the ass to put on with all the complex criss-crossing of straps and lace. But he could admit to himself that he looked pretty damn good in it. It was milky white in color and by the end of this scene would be irreversibly ruined.
Natsuo walked past the bathroom entrance.“I still think you should put on lipstick too.” He said, because he was feeling particularly petulant about that issue.
“It isn’t your birthday,” Shouto replied. “You got me in the lingerie, don’t push your luck.”
Toshiro cut in before Natsuo could respond. “ Hey I hope you don’t mind the smell of almond oil, because that’s the body oil I got.”
“What the hell,” Natsuo said. “I told you to get coconut oil.”
“In my defense the brand didn’t have a picture with it.” Toshiro countered.
Natsuo groaned. “But it would have said if it was coconut or almond in the label.”
Having finally gotten the garters to attach to the stockings, Shouto wandered out of the bathroom. “You two need to go to court to decide who gets custody of the one braincell you’re sharing” He remarked and although his tone was bored he was actually thrumming with anticipation. “Anyways it doesn’t matter. Are we doing this or not?”
Natsuo had one of Shouto’s favorite impact toys; an 18 inch wooden paddle covered on one side with rows of very sharp spikes. Took him to the very edge of his pain threshold and beyond whenever they used it.
Without waiting for an answer Shouto got into position on the floor. He laid on his back with his legs held up and back, his hands wrapped around his ankles. Flexibility wasn’t an issue for him, he felt almost no strain from the position, though he knew that wouldn’t be the case as things got underway.
Natsuo walked in a slow circle around him, running the wooden edge of the paddle down Shouto’s legs teasingly. Taking advantage of the fact that, now that the scene had started, Shouto couldn’t berate him into getting on with it.
But he was really testing his patience, because he spent several minutes doing that. Guess he needed to psych himself up. Whatever the reason, when that first blow landed on Shouto’s left inner thigh he wanted to do more than just moan. He really was tempted to scream “Finally” too.
But he didn’t, instead getting lost in brutal feeling of dozens of metal spikes piercing his skin, tearing through the stockings that covered part of it. Because Natsuo was Natsuo, he kept on that spot for a bit, though not exactly in the same space. So in addition to the stinging, fresh punctures he was getting, some of the existing wounds would be repierced, which was a particularly different sort of pain. An amplified sensation. Had him quivering, eyes shedding tears and his dick leaking in no time. .
His right thigh turned out to be even more sensitive than his left, because the first time it was hit an actual scream was torn from his throat and oh, fuck yes he was coming.
“That didn’t take long,” His brother said with amusement. And yeah, he wasn’t wrong. God, he really was easy like that when it came to this sort of thing.
He got no time to really come down before Natsuo started hitting him again, battering his thigh some more before striking further down on his exposed ass. Absolutely shredding his skin and any fabric that stood in the way of it. Now it was a struggle to hold his legs in place. Really his body was screaming at him to run away. Shouto rode the ever increasing pressure of pain higher and higher, up to his threshold and rolling right past it.
There was a very brief reprise before the blows started up again. His brother must have turned the paddle backwards, because now when he struck him Shouto no longer felt the stinging pain of his flesh being pierced. That didn’t make the hurt any less agonizing. He shrieked, and couldn’t keep from jerking away violently, his body curling up into itself in a feeble display of self protection.
“Uh uh,” Natsuo chuckled, roughly maneuvering him back into position. “ Stay .”
More hits then. Four in quick succession. Shouto wailed with each one.
“Don’t be fooled by it’s screams,” He brother spoke to the camera. “It loves this.” And indeed on the very next blow Shouto came again with a broken cry, wetting his stomach with thin ropes of come.
The hits kept coming, causing the orgasm he was riding to be laced with torment. It took every last shred of willpower in him to keep his legs up and spread. Shouto’s hands fisted his own hair as he breathed ragged and fast.
Natsuo stopped hitting him suddenly, and he heard the paddle clatter to the floor. Even though he wasn’t getting struck anymore, his body still pulsed with hot, throbbing pangs. All his nerves held up on needles.
Shouto was sobbing, in such a way he doubted looked very appealing, a little snot mixing with his tears, his bottom lip quivering. He could feel how badly his tender skin was beginning to swell and the trickles of blood leaking from various wounds. When this was all over his thighs would be a mottled mass of black and purple bruises. Hell they probably already were, his vision was too blurry to tell.
“Ahh,” Shouto whimpered as Natsuo dug his fingernails into the abused skin for a moment before he started to smear the blood around. He had to bite down on his lip to keep from cursing. His thighs were a trembling mess. And he felt lightheaded.
The head of Natsuo’s dick pushed past his rim and his body arched up, eyes rolling back. Too much, it was too much. Feeling himself being spread open, that burning stretch while the pressure on his battered thighs only increased as his brother gripped them tightly.
Surprisingly Natsuo’s thrusts were drawn out, not the rapid pounding he was used to. He still snapped his hips forward hard, making Shouto’s breath hitch each time. The slower pace meant that rather than being overwhelmed from the agony, all the sensations piling on top of each other Shouto felt his pulses and aches individually. Long and searing. It was even more intense than when his brother would hammer into him. Good, so good. Fuck this was exactly what he’d needed.
Natsuo leaned over him, his tongue lapping at the tears still falling from Shouto’s eyes. His weeping was only broken up by his moans and his dick was twitching. Just a little bit more was all he needed-
Teeth sank into his neck, the sudden new burst of pain making him jolt. Shouto’s mouth fell open in a silent scream, too breathless to make any real noise. His nails raked down Natsuo’s back as he clamped down like a vice, making his brother groan deep in his throat. The high lasted a few minutes, every clench of his body sending sharp flares of pleasure/pain rushing through his senses.
“Goddamn,” Natsuo breathed, pulling his dick out. Shouto made a soft, confused noise, his hole fluttering at the sudden loss. But he heard his brother’s breathing quicken, the unmistakable slick sounds of him jerking himself off. Then there was cold come splashing over his taint and piercing, running down to his pucker.
In the aftermath he begrudgingly allowed his brother to clean him off, lying panting in the sheets from where his brother had picked him up and put him on the bed. It was a school night, so he wasn’t actually going to be there the whole evening.
“Don’t come home unless you know father won’t be there.” Shouto told Natsuo once Toshiro had left. “He threatened to kill you for fucking me.”
Natsuo snorted. “Seriously?”
“I don’t think he’ll actually kill you, but I wouldn’t put it past him to kick your ass.”
“Fuck him,” Natsuo said, lying down on the bed as well. “He doesn’t get a say in who I sleep with.”
Shouto groaned. “Please do not turn this into a dick-measuring contest. Just be smart and lay low for a while, okay?”
No answer. Of course not. It got quiet for a while, until his brother asked, “Want to go to the skating rink?”
Shouto blinked a couple times. “What?”
“I know you love rollerskating.” Natsuo elaborated. “Fuyumi told me.”
He did, though that didn’t explain the offer. On the surface it might appear innocent and casual, but he was suspicious. This sounded a little too much like a date. What was with everyone and sentimentality? “What do you want Natsuo-nii? Why are you asking me to go there?”
“I can’t want to spend time with you?” Natsuo said with no small amount of annoyance.
“You usually don’t.” Shouto huffed. “Besides we’re spending time together right now. And I’m not your boyfriend.”
Usually it only took a few catty remarks to get Natsuo to back off. This was not one of those times. His brother sat up, leaning over him. “No, you’re my little brother and I would like to spend time with you that doesn’t involve me making you bleed. Can you at least try to be less of an asshole about it?”
Ah, that was it then. Natsuo always felt especially bad when they did something that involved Shouto getting all bloody. One of those strange hard limits of his. He wasn’t fond of the impact toy they’d used tonight, but Shouto had gotten his way and convinced him to use it. He supposed he ought to give his brother some positive reinforcement for that.
“Fine, I’ll go.” Shouto said, running a hand over his face. He peered at his brother, who now had a smile on his face. “Stop preening, you’re not a goddamned peacock. And I refuse to put on makeup again.” With a soft moan he started to get up. “Moving my legs is going to hurt like a bitch. I expect you to buy me a drink or two.”
endeavor: sleep with natsuo again and he's dead
shouto: god himself couldn't stop me from getting dick and neither can you