Soldier76/Endeavor – BNHA/OW crossover; predicament bondage; non-con/rape; coercion – Endeavor has found himself in a new world but its inhabitants are not willing to put up with his shit.
Soldier: 76 leans back, precariously balancing on his chair, shoulders brushing occasionally against the wall behind him. He quietly watches Endeavor’s struggle, his facemask in place to give the pro hero no lead; nothing to go on.
He’s in the room, but Endeavor could just as well be alone in his struggle for how responsive 76 is. He’s long stopped trying to rage and threaten his way out of the situation. By now all he does is try and keep his balance as he is stretched tall, throat just so constricted by a thick, Quirk dampening collar.
The whole setup is as simple as it is insidious: Arms bound behind his back, and legs kept apart with a spreader bar which has no practical reason in his mind other than the old man’s viewing pleasure.
There’s a thick rope leading from the back of his collar up into a sturdy ring in the ceiling… and down to the hook whose fat ball tip is just about breaching his hole.
He’s sweating and fatigued, throat burning from the times he’s tried to pull out of the situation by sheer desperate muscle strength, not only managing to push the hook deeper into his aching hole but also damn near strangle himself.
By now he’s almost… afraid to move this way or that. He wonders how long the old geezer is planning on keeping him like this. He wonders if any of the other idiots from his organization know what fucked up games he is playing.
Endeavor jerks when the soldier suddenly stands. Warily he watches him advance, cool blue eyes taking him in. He is powerful for a quirkless human. They all are with their respective technologies, and Endeavor is not quite sure what they are capable of.
The soldier comes to a halt in front of him. He has to tilt his head back in order to look into Endeavor’s face which is the only solace in the situation.
The silence stretches between them, only broken by Endeavor’s short, precise panting – everything to keep as still as possible. The soldier’s eyebrow twitches, but Enji does not know what it means.
He almost flinches when he suddenly speaks with a gravelly voice.
“Doused the flames, didn’t I?” Enji bares his teeth in a growl, mildly leaning towards him, yet all that he manages is the collar tightening against his throat and the hook sliding deeper into his hole.
His growl fizzles out and he rightens back up, hatred simmering quietly in his eyes while sweat springs up along his upper lip, his insides bearing down on the intruder, trying to force the hook out of him.
“You understand I had to take precautions. We don’t let just anybody join Overwatch. Given your… peculiar circumstances, though, we have no other option as to keep you at least confined.”
He pauses for a moment, one gloved hand stretching out to touch Endeavor’s lower belly just above the coarse thatch of his pubes and the undecisive, humiliating half-chub of his cock.
Enji, not wanting to get touched, tries to dance out of the way and immediately pulls the rope taut once more, the smooth metal sliding into him and pressing into his prostate.
Stars dance in front of his eyes, the lack of oxygen making everything that much more intense. He only realizes he is panting like a dog, tongue hanging out, when the derisive click of a tongue brings him somewhat back into the room.
“You are powerful. Winston and Angela are intrigued by those little parlor tricks you can do…” Those names don’t mean anything to Enji. He bares his teeth again, but it is weak. There’s no fire behind it.
Just like there is no fire in him, and the feeling of the Quirk dampening collar has him claustrophobic. His flames are a part of him just like his face, and their sudden absence makes him feel… vulnerable.
Enji Todoroki does not cope well with the feeling of vulnerability.
“Don’t look at me like that. We are no bad people here. But we do have to ensure everybody is functioning well. Listening to orders…” His gloved hand slides down, fingers curling unselfconsciously around Enji’s fat cock. Every muscle in his body tenses, fighting against the fatigue while he wills himself to remain quiet and not spear himself on the insidious hook once more. It becomes more difficult when the soldier starts weighing his cock in the palm of his hand. Getting a feeling for the heft of it.
Soldier: 76 hums, takes up where he’s left: “…Obeying orders. Say – can you be a good boy until we have figured out how you managed to stumble into our dimension? Can you… obey?”
He squeezes, the rough thumb of his gloves starting to play with Endeavor’s silky foreskin. The massive muscles in his thighs are trembling, his knees are getting weak.
He realizes with a deep seated desperation that he’s stuck between a rock and a hard place. The soldier squeezes his cock unkindly, and Endeavor’s knees give way for a second, the collar pulling taut against his throat and the hook sliding in deep and smooth.
He tries to get his footing back but the spreader bar makes it weirdly difficult. He rotates mildly in the awkward hanging position he finds himself in, and only manages to drive the hook even deeper, pressing so hard into his prostate for a moment that tears spring up in his eyes, then not pressing into it but only grazing it which is… almost worse.
All the while the old soldier watches him, quiet, calculating, his hand mean and harsh on Enji’s cock.
“Will you obey?”
Enji gurgles.
Beneath the mask, Soldier: 76 smirks.
Cyberrat Writes 