Patreon Compilation – Fic#349 – Mindjack/Eraserhead – consensual hypnosis; overstimulation; begging – In The Dark Of Night

Mindjack/Eraserhead – Aizawa sometimes struggles to calm his mind down... so Shinsou helps him.

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It’s a tenuous hold that underground pro hero Shinsou has on Eraserhead. A meticulous, tenuous hold that allows the other pro hero to talk – but not to escape Shinsou’s directions.

“Please… I… ah-” Aizawa’s spine arcs, his whole body going taut for one long, delicious second. His cock is a painful looking red, jutting from his unkempt bush and occasionally touching his heaving, tight belly. Shinsou’s eyes are stuck on the minute trembles of his abs.

His fingers move, winding his capture weapon across them over and under and over again as he watches Aizawa clench his jaw, then cry out in sharp relief when he orgasms again. It’s the third in the last half hour and he only adds a little more to the puddle already on his heaving belly.

Shinsou swallows thickly. Eight years as Eraserhead’s partner and he still can’t quite wrap his head around this whole ordeal. Aizawa begging him to use his Quirk on him. To make him calm.

Shinsou moves closer, pulling away the hold he has on Aizawa mind to lean over him and look into his eyes. They are almost completely closed. He’s trying for some reason to pretend like he’s not gasping like a fish on land, the muscles in his jaw standing out in sharp relief as he hisses breath through his teeth.

“How are you holding up?” Shinsou asks, hands clasped over his knees so he wouldn’t reach out to Aizawa and touch him. He wants to touch him. Badly. He wants to trail his fingers along his impossibly red, impossibly overworked cock and feel how impossibly hot it is to the touch.

He wants to kiss him and feel his ever-present stubble rasping against his skin. He wants to do a lot of fucking things that he doesn’t have the guts to actually pull through on.

“I can take more,” Aizawa hisses. There’s a fierce flush coloring his cheeks and creeping down to his chest; broad and a bit hairy like the rest of him. “I-”

He cuts off when Shinsou takes hold of his mind again.

“Relax,” Shinsou murmurs and is quietly amused at how irritated Aizawa looks for a second. Like he does not physically want to let himself calm down even though that is the whole point of this. Shinsou also is very happy about how delicate he is getting with the handling of his Quirk. At the UA festival it would have been absolutely ludicrous to think his control was nuanced enough that he could let his victims feel anything at all. Make them express anything at all.

Focus. Ignore the eager flush on your own cheeks. Ignore the pumping of your blood, hot and eager and needy through your veins as your crush writhes in front of you. Ignore how he’s begging both for more and for it to stop, tears of frustration pricking at the corners of his bloodshot eyes.

Ignore him and give him what he needs, not what he asks for.

Shinsou breathes slowly and exerts a bit more pressure, reigning Aizawa’s mind in more. Watches his expressive, tired eyes go blank as his autonomy is gently corded off behind Shinsou’s will. He can feel him; strong and dark, pushing against him; prodding carefully. Not because he wants to get out of Shinsou’s brainwash but because he can’t help himself; like helplessly touching the instruments of a dentist with one’s tongue as they move around one’s mouth.

Shinsou blinks slowly, then glances down. Aizawa’s desperately hard cock had softened; like it, too had given up a sigh of relief when its master got ordered to relax.

“Get hard,” he orders in a low voice gone rough with nervous excitement. Aizawa’s body jerks. Shinsou pulls his hold on his mind back just enough to hear him honest to god whimper. They were so close now.

“Please,” Eraserhead grits out. Shinsou pulls his fascinated gaze away from the sight of Eraser’s cock obediently starting to flex and fill out with blood yet again, and looks into his face.

His teeth are grit, lips trembling around the silent not-quite-snarl as he stares up at Shinsou. His eyes are suddenly brimming with tears and the sight is so fascinating that it gives Shinsou pause. Has him pull his Quirk back more without really thinking about it because his hold over it slips ever so slightly.

Eraser seems to not anticipate the sudden freedom, his eyes widening for a second in shock as an honest-to-God sob breaks out of him and he whimpers quicker than he can help it: “No more, I… I can’t-”

He bites down on his lower lip, trying to keep the begging down. Shinsou’s blood is running hotter. He can feel sweat beading at the edges of his hairline.

He slowly lifts a finger and puts it to his lips. “Shhh,” he whispers and Aizawa’s eyes go all soft and diffuse again when Shinsou tightens his grip on his colleague once more.

Slowly, unable to help himself, he reaches out and touches Aizawa’s stubbled cheek. He scratches his nails along the sharp jawline, feeling how muscles are jumping and then going soft when he forces him to relax.

Aizawa slumps back onto the concrete of the rooftop. They should probably do these little plays somewhere more secure, but he can’t deny the thrill that it gives him when he plays with Aizawa where just anybody could see.

“You look so good like this,” he whispers. Aizawa’s dark eyes stare up at him. He can hear him, but Shinsou knows that he won’t remember much of what he’s saying once he wrings him out completely and lets him slump down into exhausted sleep.

He moves his hand further; slides it down the heaving, hairy chest and following the dark trail of fur along his stomach.

The closer he gets to Aizawa’s cock, brick red and raw looking, the louder Aizawa starts wo whimper. He sounds like a dog, his eyes full of trepidation.

“Please,” he whispers and Shinsou feels a rush of excitement race down his spine as he realizes that he can’t tell anymore if Aizawa is begging him to stop or to continue going. It’s all the same in the end. Aizawa likes to beg for mercy. He likes when Shinsou doesn’t give in.

Shinsou bites his lips when he lets his fingertips ghost along Aizawa’s cock. It is feeling so hot with blood that for a second he is honestly worried until he manages to shove that back into that little space he reserves for all his doubts and worries. Like the ones about his Quirk being unfit for hero work. They’ve become quieter over the years but he still can’t quite manage to shake the feeling like something is wrong with him.

It’s certainly more difficult when he got Aizawa at his mercy, writhing and desperate and hot tears of heartbreak and panic starting to drip from their corners to soak into his jet black hair.

Shinsou shushes him again.

“You can do it,” he whispers, fingers just slightly tickling Aizawa’s desperately tight scrotum before slipping between his thighs. He’d never have thought he’d get into this position. Of being able to do to Aizawa-sensei whatever the Hell he wanted.

“You can come for me again, right?” he asks him in a soft murmur just to hear how Aizawa’s voice breaks on his next round of begging. All gibberish that melts into each other; asking him to ‘go slower’ and then immediately to ‘not stop’. Shinsou’s head is starting to pound and it has nothing to do with the usage of his Quirk.

Aizawa isn’t fighting him, after all. There is no struggle to remain a connection, to keep himself above the will of someone else. He just needs to lightly tease and Aizawa follows suit, eager like a puppy.

His hole is so… it’s so tight against Shinsou’s fingers. And they haven’t talked about this oh my God will he remember that I fucking fingered him?! But he can’t stop. He can’t stop. He’s as much a slave to what is happening as Aizawa. Maybe even more so. It is humiliating, but he can’t stop how he pets Aizawa’s tight little hole and tries to nudge his way inside.

Aizawa’s deep voice is breaking. It’s rough and delicious sounding. So fucked out. There’s a whole mess on his heaving stomach and when Shinsou exerts just a tad more pressure – pushes him just a tiny bit more toward that devastating next orgasm, Aizawa does something extraordinary: His hand shoots up and curls around Hitoshi’s upper arm, holding him in a tight strangle hold as he stares at him with wide, guileless eyes.

He looks soft. He looks so innocent, staring at him, helpless, Shinsou’s fingers pushing up against his hole. He also looks completely in control of his own faculties in that moment despite Shinsou’s Quirk still blanketing his mind in a cool blanket.

Shinsou’s mouth opens, closes, opens again. He whispers: “Come for me.” – and Aizawa’s face twists in a way that makes him feel dastardly when he complies, body jerking helplessly as he comes nearly dry, just a couple drops of watery cum squeezing out of his tip. It looks downright violent and Shinsou’s mouth goes so, so dry as he watches it while his cock is pulsing in his slacks.

Aizawa’s body relaxes all at once and all of a sudden. Shinsou’s connection to him snaps like a string cut when Aizawa falls unconscious, if only for a moment, blessedly exhausted by orgasm after orgasm forced out of him.

And Shinsou is left battling his own demons alone, trying not to move because he knows he’ll step over a line if he does. He will push into Aizawa’s unresisting, butter soft hole right now.

So he keeps sitting there still as a statue, barely breathing, watching over his collapsed sensei-that-is-no-longer-his-sensei.