Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Day 1 - Stepcest (Incest) - Tomura Shigaraki/Reader

• TW: Voyeurism, semi-hate fuck, degradation, stepcest

Day 2 - Kidnapping - Tomura Shigaraki/Reader 

• TW: Stockholm elements, manipulation, praise, dubious consent, mentions of minor physical harm 

Day 3 - Threesome - Tomura/Aizawa/Reader 

• TW: dubcon / anal / switch Shigaraki/ slight MLM

Day 4 - Voyeurism - Aizawa/Reader x VoyeurZashi

• TW: Voyeurism, mini mention of pregnancy/trying for a baby

Chapter Text

Being All for One’s daughter never was easy. 

The man who called himself your father, was the farthest thing from what you’d imagine a father figure to be. His expectations were suffocating. 

You learned early how to be perfect, how to please him, how to act worthy of even having the same last name as him. 

But when Tomura arrived he just automatically became his successor, allowed to carry the same name with pride and destined to inherit his quirk someday? How was that even fair? All the suffering and the countless nights of training only to be replaced by some filthy stray within a heartbeat!

Jealousy sank its claws into you immediately. He was nothing more than an orphan, dragged in from the streets, yet Father looked at him in a way he has never looked at you before. Your heart ached. Suddenly you were in the background. A disappointment. Constantly compared, constantly reminded that you weren’t enough. That you were a girl. 

So the rivalry between you and Tomura only festered as you got older. 

You were proper, well behaved, dressed nicely and composed. He was gross, never showered enough, always so temperamental, his posture was terrible and god he was constantly glued to his video games. You resented him with every fiber of your being.

And you were certain that the feeling was mutual. 

Just a couple weeks ago he had shoved you back so hard it almost knocked the wind from your lungs. It was so stupid! 

He had insisted on choosing this small rotting bar as a hideout. It was filthy, filthier than him, even though Kurogiri cleaned regularly. Maybe tomura got off at the way your nose crinkled in disgust when he first showed you. 

So naturally it wasn’t your fault when you leaned over his shoulder, trying to simply grab a cup and get some water. God forbid you were too near! The way he shoved you almost felt like he was offended by you existing in the same space as him.

You loathed Tomura.

So when you passed by his room tonight, the last thing you expected was to hear him breathlessly moan your name. 

Low, ragged breathing. The wet slap of skin on skin. A broken groan, this time muffled into his hand.

You froze, your hand hovering near the knob. He isn’t doing what you think he’s doing right? Why would he? 

Curiosity crawled into your chest. No one else was at the hideout, Kurogiri was running errands. 

So without thinking you pushed the door open, just an inch. 

it was mostly dark, blue light spilled across his room from one of his monitors being lit up. At first you couldn’t make it out but then you were certain. There he was, your ‘Step-Brother’ slouched in his chair, pants shoved down, shirtless, cock gripped tight in his fist, one pinky raised out of habit, his pale shoulders hunched forward, back bowing with every rough jerk of his hips into his own hand. 

Your stomach flipped. 

On the monitor were photos of you without a doubt. Most of them looked like candid shots you didn’t even know existed. Sure there was the portrait of you next to Tomura when Kurogiri insisted on photographing you but the rest? Training and drenched in sweat, sitting at the table eating lunch where he zoomed into your cleavage, even one of you clearly asleep, lying on your stomach with your butt sticking out from under the blanket. 

Your own self stares back at you again and again. Blurry in the glow of the screen while he stroked himself roughly. 

“F-Fuck Y/N..” his voice cracked on your name. 

Your blood ran cold, then impossibly hot. 

You should leave. You should scream. You should tear him apart for this. But you couldn’t move. Instead, your thighs pressed together, shame and fury flooding you as you couldn’t control your own thoughts.

just then he must have sensed your presence, his red eyes snapped towards the doorway. Catching you standing there, watching him. 

“…The fuck?” Tomura rasped, his hand still wrapped around his cock, chest heaving. 

You blinked, there was no way you could find an excuse for watching him, no catching him masturbating to pictures of you. 

Oh God. Your stomach twisted with panic. You turned on your heel, desperate to slip away and pretend this never happened. But before you could even stick your foot out into the hall his chair screeched. Heavy footsteps followed and the door slammed shut, rattling on its hinges.

You yelped, only to feel his warm, sweaty body caging you against the door. One fist slammed next to your head, the other holding your wrist behind your back, one pinky raised, and something hard pressing against your ass through your jeans. 

“Trying to run away?” Tomura’s voice was raspy in a way you always hated. His lips were so close to your ear, you could smell his breathe, like stale root beer. 

“Let me go you perv!” your voice cracked, your usual confidence lacking as your mind reeled. 

“You’re the perverted one, watching me jack off.” His chest pressed harder against your back. 

“You’re disgusting!” You spat, confidence returning quickly. “You’re a loser, a virgin loser that can’t get a girlfriend! That’s why you’re using my pictures right?” You grunted shoving back, somehow managing to turn around, now face to face with him, still trapped but able to read his expressions. His face was twisted into a snarl, it took everything in you not to look down.

“Shut the fuck up” he growled. It only made you want to insult him more. 

“I should tell father what a disgusting freak you are! You’re so gross, I hate yo-“ your insults were muffled by his lips crashing against yours. 

At first you struggled, trying to pull away even when he pressed into you harder, forcing his knee between your legs. It was clear he had never kissed a girl before, it was all teeth and his tongue kept licking at your lips.

He jerked his knee upwards, the seam of your jeans grinding into your pussy. It made you gasp, he used the opportunity to lick into your mouth. He tasted just like you expected, faintly like root beer and other junk. His lips were dry and rough. 

And when his left hand cupped your breast through your shirt, your own body betrayed you. Heat pooled in your belly and you resisted the kiss a little less. 

His hand squeezed hard, four rough fingers digging into your breast. He pulled away from your lips, a string of saliva connecting you. You whined and hated yourself for letting a moan slip out. His teeth scraped at your jaw, then the column of your throat before sinking into your neck. He was rough, too rough. 

“G-Get off!” You groaned. He chuckled breathlessly against your skin. “Tch. Always walking around like you’re fucking perfect, like you’re so much better than me.” He growled. “Been dying to ruin your little prim and proper act. You’re calling me a freak but you’re getting off on this.” 

“You’re pathetic!” You spat even as your pulse thundered in your ears. 

“And you’re Father’s biggest disappointment. You’ll always be worthless to him.” He grinned against your neck. Before you could retaliate against his words he rolled his knee up again, getting another moan out of you. 

“Fuck” he growled “I hate you.” He squeezed your breast again, thumb rolling over your clothed nipple. “Always flaunting these tits around the hideout like a slut. You think you’re so hot don’t you?” 

“Hotter than you for sure” you snapped back only to be met with a chuckle. 

Suddenly all five fingers gripped your shirt, your eyes going wide as it disintegrated onto the ground, your tits spilling out. The cold air sent a shiver down your spine and your nipples pebbled immediately.

“Fuck…” Tomura’s voice was ragged as his gaze locked on your breasts. “I knew they’d look like this. I fucking knew it. I knew they were bigger than in the pictures.” He licked his dry lips. 

Arousal burned through your entire body, the way he was ogling your tits made you blush. He was so in awe. You couldn’t deny it, you wanted this as much as he did.

”Stop staring at me you perv, just touch them.” You mumbled. He gave you a puzzled look. Almost as if he had expected you to struggle more. 

“Shit..” he groaned leaning in to kiss you again, his hand groping your bare breast now, pulling and pinching your hard bud. This time you returned the kiss, tongues dancing around as you moaned into his mouth. 

Your nails dug into his shoulder, pulling him closer, his free hand slid down under you ass to lift you. It honestly angered you how strong he was, he looked so skinny and scrawny but managed to pick you up effortlessly. 

“I’ve always hated your fucking face so much” he moaned into your mouth “wanted to ruin it every time you gave me that look.” He dropped you onto his bed. For once you tried not to think about how filthy it must be and when the last time was that he changed the sheets.

You were panting, lips kiss swollen as you laid there with him hovering over your topless body. 

“God” he groaned again, eyes raking over you, his pupils blown “always wanted to taste these, always fucking imagined it.” He lowered his head, mouth wrapping around one stiff nipple, biting and sucking greedily while his hand mauled the other.

You squirmed, needy and humiliated “Ahh- s-stop! Fuck you’re disgusting” 

He released the breast he was palming, only to disintegrate your jeans. Your breath hitched as he let go of your nipple with a wet pop. 

“Call me that again” he growled, finger sliding under your panties, knuckle brushing against your mound. Instead of pulling them down, he pulled them up, wedging them between your pussy lips. 

You let out a whine “come on, say it again, tell me I’m disgusting while your cunt is soaked.” He pulled them up again, the fabric grinding into your clit. A moan tore from your throat and embarrassment bubbled inside you. 

“Damn, your pussy is even prettier than I thought. Such a fat cunt.” He groaned appreciatively. You rolled your eyes, he probably picked those words up from some porn he’d always watch. 

“Stop teasing me!” You huffed out, cheeks flushed “Bet you don’t even know how to touch a pussy..” you mumbled. 

Tomura smirked, yanking your panties down. “Yea, you think?” He settled between your thighs, you could see his cock perfectly like this. It was hard and throbbing, the tip leaking precum. You wondered if it tasted good or rancid. 

Reaching for the bedside table next to you he grabbed his gloves. You haven’t seen him wear those in ages. It made you feel butterflies in your stomach to know he was thinking of your safety. 

His now gloved hands gripped your inner thighs, squeezing them, groping the flesh. His thumbs spread your pussy apart and he hummed as he looked at it. 

The longer this was dragging on the wetter you got and the more self aware you got. This was wrong on so many levels. But then he spit onto your spread pussy, it should have disgusted you, but fuck that was hot. 

He pushed two fingers into you, it felt so good. His fingers were long, reaching deep inside you, spots you could never reach on your own.  He pumped them in and out roughly getting a bunch of needy moans out of you. 

“Calling me disgusting but grinding down on your ‘Step-Brothers’ fingers” he grunted. You didn’t even realise you were rocking your hips, it just felt too good. His words embarrassed you though, he too knew how wrong all of this was but seemed to enjoy humiliating you with it. 

“Fuck you” your pussy spasmed around his fingers. 

“I will don’t worry.” he chuckled. 

He pulled his fingers out right as you were approaching the edge. You whined. “God I hate you! Can’t even let me cum!” 

He kept quiet, lining his cock up with your pussy. He didn’t push in, he rocked his hips forward, coating himself in your slick, the top of his cock bumping your clit. You thought he was just lubing himself up but he continued this for minutes. Making you whine and moan more. 

“H-Hey! Stop that just- ngh- fuck just push in already!” You squeaked, voice high pitched. 

“I’m not gonna last inside you if I push in now…” he growled quietly a faint blush painting his cheeks as he continued to give himself a pussy job with your cunt.

”Please Tomura…” you whimpered quietly. He groaned “Fuck…do that again..”

“W-What?” 

“Moan my name like that…” he grunted dragging his dick over your clit hard. 

“tomura-ah please!” You cried out and finally he gave you want you wanted. 

He slammed his length into your cunt in one sharp thrust. You almost screamed as your back arched off the bed. Even with all The teasing your pussy couldn’t immediately accommodate all of him. 

If there was any doubt that he wasn’t a virgin it was now gone. His thrusts were erratic and messy. His hips snapping forward in an angry pace. His untrimmed nails dug into the fat of your thighs.  

“Fuck your pussy is squeezing me so g-good!” He snarled, pressing your legs to your chest. This position let his cock kiss you even deeper. 

“s-slow down!” You barely managed to cry out,  your eyes blurred with tears, overwhelmed by the pleasure and the pain. 

He panted, looking down at you, your tits were bouncing, your face was red, tears were streaming down your face. 

“I hate you…” he groaned, slowing down, his chapped lips pressed to your collarbone, your throat, then your jaw and finally your lips again. This time softer. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he eased down your legs again. 

“Tomu-“ you maoned against his lips. He shuddered and pulled away stopping his thrusts for a moment to look down at you again. Messy and ruined, this is what he always wanted. 

“I hate how pretty you are” he huffed starting to thrust again, deep and deliberate. Punctuating each of his words with another thrust. “Hate how- ngh- how soft you look” another thrust. “Hate the way you look at everyone so sweetly mhmmfff…but look at me like I ruined your life.” 

“Tomura-“ you whined and moaned. “No.” He growled “i hate how much I’ve always wanted to touch you and be close to you” his thrusts grew faster again. 

“Don’t stop Tomura!” You cried out “Oh God don’t stop!” That familiar heat pooled again and you could feel yourself approaching the edge.

“F-Fuck! I always hated how y-you pushed me away!” You moaned “always wanted ahhh wanted us to get along!” You cried. 

“Shit Y/N..”

His mouth found yours again, this time slower, desperate, tender even as he groaned into you, cock twitching. You tightened around him. 

“Let me cum inside your pretty pussy please” he moaned voice cracking against your lips. You couldn’t respond, pleasure clouding your mind. You just wrapped your legs around his hips pulling him in deeper.

Your orgasm hit messy, overwhelming, your nails clawing into his back.

He followed with a strangled groan, thrusts faltering as he spilled deep inside you. He fucked his cum into you for several more seconds before stilling. 

When he finally pulled out your legs were trembling. He looked down at you, your body ruined and his release leaking down your thighs. Fuck it was the hottest thing he’s ever seen. Still guilt and shame flickered in his expression. 

Silence swallowed the room as both of their minds reeled with what had just happened.

Tomura sat back on the mattress, dragging a shaky hand down his face, chest heaving. You stayed flat on your back, staring at the ceiling, your body trembling with aftershocks. 

He cursed under his breath, fumbling for something at the edge of the bed. He picked up his hoodie and shoved it toward you without looking. 

“Here.”

Your throat tightened. You hesitated, but your shaking hands took it anyway, tugging the fabric over your head. It swallowed you whole, the sleeves dangling past your fingers, It smelled like Him. Sweaty.

“…We can’t-” he muttered, then stopped, biting down on the words. “This shouldn’t happen again.”

You swallowed hard. “I know.”

But your chest twisted, traitorous, at the thought. Because despite the shame, despite everything, some part of you didn’t regret it and you were sure neither of you could keep your hands off of each other from now on. 

Chapter Text

The café was quiet at night, the usual hum of computers softened by the muffled snores of a few broke college kids who’d rented cubicles just to crash until morning. You barely noticed anymore. This job barely paid minimum wage and kept you afloat so why should you care about the sickening smell of instant ramen, the dim glow of blue screens, the sticky plastic keyboard covers which you had to clean every night while praying it wasn’t sticky for the wrong reasons. It all blurred together after too many night shifts.

You sat slouched behind the counter, chin in your hand, scrolling absently through your phone. Customers came and went and by now you had a pretty good idea of who regularly visited. 

There of course were the broke students, too poor to afford an apartment but too stubborn to move back in with their parents. Then there were drunk business men, too intoxicated to find their way home. Occasionally you’d see some hardcore gamers just using the space as a public hangout. However the worst type of visitor were the manga obsessed guys, they’d always pick out controversial barely legal borderline Hentai manga’s, always left their cubicles filthy and almost always harassed you. 

Bringing up these instances to your boss were like talking to a wall. He invested in these explicit manga’s a lot. Says ‘these bastards bring us the most cash’ and you guess he wasn’t wrong. They would pay a lot for the private cocoons.

When the door opened and the bell above it dinged you didn’t even look up at first. Usually they initiate contact. Immediately book a cubicle or cocoon. 

However this customer seemed so be one of the introverts. A shiver crawled down your spine, that weird feeling of ‘I am totally being stared at right now’. So you put on your best fake smile and looked up. 

It was a young man, messy blue plate hair, hoodie drawn low over his face. He was hunched forward, a bit scrawny looking. 

“Welcome to Manboo Café” you said, the same words you said to everyone in that fake customer service voice “How long will you be staying?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just stood there, watching you like you had dirt on your face? No more like he was trying to memorize your face. The silence dragged, long enough to make your skin prickle. 

“Overnight” he finally muttered, his voice a bit raspy but boyish. 

“Would you like a cubicle or cocoon?” you asked as you turned the screen around to show him the prices “the cocoon is so much better!” You emphasised, your boss had been bugging you about trying to sell better. “The cubicle is fine, of course, but anyone can see what you are up to. Our cocoons offer you 100% privacy, like a small room. Both options do come with the free snacks, access to the computers and manga’s” you forced a smile. 

The guy scratched at his neck throughout half of your explanation “cocoon…” 

Not the talkative type. You thought to yourself as you tapped on the screen and slid him a keycard.

You felt his eyes on you the entire time. Lingering even as he shuffled to his cocoon. 

You shook it off, tried to bury yourself back in your phone. It wasn’t unusual for guys to stare, plenty of creeps passed through here. But there was something different about him. Something that made your pulse quicken for no good reason.

What you didn’t know was that Tomura Shigaraki hadn’t planned on stopping here at all. He had other things to do, bigger plans to scheme. But when he walked past the neon glow of the café and saw you through the window, tired eyes, blank expression, the way you seemed so detached from the world…something about you just intrigued him. 

He wanted to see you up close.
He wanted to know what your voice sounded like. 

And when you spoke to him in that fake cheery voice….when he could see the way you judged him…He decided. Tonight, he’d indulge.

The café was dead quiet during the night. Another long, boring, lonely shift. 

You leaned on the counter, cheek resting against your palm, fighting the heaviness in your eyelids. Nights like this were endless. At least when the kids played games you’d hear their manic clicking, but tonight it was just quiet.

The scrawny guy from earlier was standing by the ramen station. You barely paid it any attention. 

He pretended to look over the different types of flavours. In truth he wasn’t hungry at all, he just wanted to be closer to you. 

Closer, so he could watch the way you absentmindedly tapped the counter with your nails.

Closer, so he could see the flicker of irritation in your tired eyes when the ancient AC kicked on too loud.

Closer, so he could take in every detail….the faded work polo stretching over your chest, the chipped polish on your fingers, the lazy slump of your shoulders.

You were just so intriguing. Not beautiful in the traditional sense. Just so plain. So human. 

You sighed, leaning back in your chair, scrolling through your phone like you wanted to sink into the screen and vanish. You didn’t even spare him a glance.

And that drove him crazy.

He slipped a hand into his pocket the other scratching lightly at his neck as he stared, imagining how you’d look pressed up against the wall instead of that counter. Wondering if your lips would taste as apathetic as you looked. If your bra was as plain as your expression. If you’d fight and struggle or if you’d cry and sob. 

He wanted to know how your hair smelt, how soft your skin must be, how tight your pussy would be. 

When you finally moved, it startled him. You stood, stretching your arms over your head, bones popping. Then without a word, you pushed through the side door and into the alley. 

A smoker? he thought to himself. Would your tongue taste like cigarettes?

Tomura waited a beat, looked around, then followed. 

Outside, the city was also rather quiet, the faint rumble of a passing train could be heard. You leaned against the wall, cigarette glowing between your fingers, hair falling loose in the damp night air. For a moment, with your face lit by the ember, you looked softer.

He hung back in the shadows watching you.

The way you exhaled smoke in a lazy blows, lips pursed, lashes half lowered with exhaustion. The way your free hand tugged at the hem of your shirt absentmindedly. The faint curve of your waist where the fabric clung.

He observed all of it. His chest tightened, an unfamiliar feeling overwhelming him. A mix of hunger and rage. Hunger at how easily he could clamp his hand over your mouth right now and take you away.  Rage at how easily you let your guard down.

His fingers twitched. He wanted to grab you right then and there. Press you against the brick wall, shove your thighs apart, push your shirt up, make you choke, moan and cry. 

But not yet. Not here. Not where anyone could see.

No. He wanted privacy. He wanted you for himself.

After that night in the alley he became obsessed. 

Customers came and went. Faces blurred together. Voices sounded the same. 

Not him though, after a while you recognised him. The same hooded figure, pale hands stuffed deep in his pockets, always choosing a cocoon close to the counter. Always showing up late at night. Always alone.

Every other day, like clockwork. Sometimes just a couple of hours, sometimes all night. He wasn’t a creep but he gave you goosebumps regardless. He never made a scene, never raised his voice. Just booked, paid and did his thing. 

And slowly, you learned his habits.

He liked soda, always grabbing the same brand from the fridge.
He scratched his neck constantly, even when it left red marks.
He never looked anyone else in the eye, except you.

And one night, when you slid his receipt across the counter, he murmured your name.

It startled you. 

You blinked, unsure how he even knew it. You didn’t remember telling him. He must have overheard you and one of your coworkers talking. None of you wore name tags. 

You shook it off, as always. Weird men, weird nights. Part of the job.

To him it was intoxicating, the way you reacted. 

Every visit he learned something new about you. The times you clocked out. The way your hand always drifted to your neck when you were tired. The brand of cigarettes you smoked. The way your lips curled when you suppressed a yawn.

He wanted to touch you so badly it hurt. Then one night he did. Well, not really. 

You were stocking snacks in the narrow little aisle next to the manga’s, stretching your arms to reach one of the shelves. As he walked by his arm brushed your chest. Just a fleeting graze, fabric on fabric. 

He just muttered a gruff “Sorry” and disappeared into his cocoon. You thought nothing of it. 

You didn’t see what it did to him.

The door clicked shut. His breathing was already ragged. His hand was shaking as it found the waistband of his pants. That single accidental brush of his arm against your breast played over and over in his mind.

He bit back a groan as he stroked himself through his boxers. His forehead pressed against the wall. His cock twitched violently. He couldn’t wait another day. He wanted you. He needed to have you. 

Not later. Not someday.
Tonight.

The night air was damp and cool, the alley behind the café lit only by a flickering neon sign. You leaned against the brick wall, cigarette dangling from your fingers, shoulders loose with exhaustion. Just a few drags before the train. Just a few minutes to yourself before you go back to your shitty apartment. Before you can finally collapse into bed. 

You didn’t hear him coming. 

A gloved hand clamped over your mouth. Your face slammed against the rough wall. You were pinned into place.

You gasped against the palm over your lips, the cigarette dropping from your fingers. Your mind went blank with panic. 

You thrashed, elbows jerking back, but he was faster. One hand fisted in your hair, pulling your head back while
The other stayed over your mouth.

His breath was right by your ear, ragged and uneven.

“Stop struggling.”

That voice.

Your eyes went wide. It was him. The hooded scrawny guy. The regular. You didn’t even know his name but you knew that voice, that rasp.

He pushed your body further into the wall. That’s when you felt it. Something half hard pressing against the curve of your ass. It was throbbing. 

He let go of your hair, shoving under your shirt, palming your boob through your bra. His fingers were greedy.  

A muffled noise tore from your throat, shock and panic all at once. You tried to twist away, but he kept you in place. 

“God, I’ve wanted this for so long.” He growled burying his face into your hair and inhaling. “You smell so good.” 

His thumb dragged over your nipple through your bra, making you jerk in reflex. You slammed your palm against the wall, pushing back with all your strength but it was useless. 

“Stop being a bitch.” He growled. “I’ve waited so long. Watched you for so long. Don’t fucking fight.”

Your heart pounded so hard you could feel it in your throat. The gloved hand slid from under your shirt and you thought for one second he was about to let go.

But then you heard the click of a phone unlocking.

“I got her.” the man behind you muttered, voice low and shaky but urgent. “Yeah. In the alley. Just pick us up Kurogiri.” 

Pick you up? No. No. No. you didn’t want to go anywhere with this man. 

The moment his palm lifted from your mouth you sucked in a breath and twisted hard, pushing back with all your weight. He stumbled just enough that your shoulder slipped free. You bolted, shirt still pushed up, half exposed, vision tunneling on the open mouth of the alley.

Almost. Almost there- 

A hand fisted in your hair, yanking you back so hard your feet left the ground.

“Don’t.” His voice cracked like a whip.

You clawed at his wrist, kicked backward, but then the world went white, your forehead hitting brick as he slammed you against the wall. The impact rang through your skull, a flash of light bursting behind your eyes.

Your knees wobbled. The ground tilted. The alley spun in slow circles.

A strange violet mist swirled in front of you. You weren’t sure if you were concussed or I’d that was really happening. A tall man appeared, faceless. Like a void. Presumably the one on the other line of the phone. 

“Tomura, you were supposed to wait.” The man spoke. 

So that was his name. 

“She tried to run. Not my fault. Let’s just go.” Tomura mumbled. 

You felt yourself being lifted off the ground as if the air itself had hands. Your limbs dangled uselessly. The last thing you saw was that swirling shadow and the pale gloved hands beneath you, clutching tight.

And then everything went black.

Your head throbbed when you came to again. Like someone hit you over the head with a hammer. 

When your eyes fluttered open the first thing you saw was a ceiling, yellowed, cracked and one light bulb hanging from it. 

The smell hit you next. Dust. Stale soda. Sweat. Something sour that made your stomach turn.

Then the zip ties.

Your wrists burned when you tried to move them, plastic biting into your skin. You were tied to the bedframe, spread awkwardly on a stained mattress with no sheets. Panic shot through you, chest tightening. 

You wanted to scream. Instinct clawed at your throat, begging for release. But instinct, too, told you screaming here was a mistake.

So you forced yourself to stay quiet. Forced your breath to come slow, shallow, even as your body trembled.

You were disoriented, your memories hazy. 

The alley, the gloved hands, the slam of your head against the wall, the mist. And him. That hooded guy. Tomura.

Your stomach sank.

The door creaked. You jerked your head up, vision swimming, and saw him standing in the frame. 

Messy blue hair, red eyes too sharp for comfort, nails raking at his own neck. He hovered there, almost awkward, like he didn’t quite know what to do with you now that you were awake.

His eyes darted over you. Your tied wrists, your shaking legs, your wide, alert stare. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, hands twitching at his sides.

For a long, unbearable moment, neither of you spoke.

Then he let out a short, almost nervous laugh, scratching harder at his throat until the skin turned raw.

“Good morning. You slept so long almost thought I hit you to hard.” 

He shifted his weight, gaze flicking away and back again, like he couldn’t decide whether to look at your face or your body.

You stayed still. Silent. Unsure if opening your mouth would make it better or worse.

He moved closer anyway, the old mattress dipping beneath his weight as he sat down beside you. 

Tomura’s hand twitched before it reached you. His fingers brushed lightly over your forehead, right where the bruise had bloomed from where he’d slammed you against the wall. You flinched hard, jerking your face away, a hiss slipping past your teeth.

His hand lingered in the air, then shifted. Down to your throat. His thumb pressed gently against the hollow of your pulse point, the steady thrum of your heartbeat quickening under his touch. He tilted his head, red eyes narrowed. 

His hand slid further, slow and deliberate, until his palm was spread over your chest. His fingers flexed once, squeezing, possessive, greedy, like he was reminding himself he actually snatched you up. 

The plain, hard mask you’d been wearing cracked. Tears welled, blurring your vision.

“Please,” you choked, voice trembling. “Stop. Please don’t-“ 

The sob broke through before you could finish. And he did stop.

The grip on your breast loosened, his hand retreating. Tomura bit the inside of his cheek, shoulders hunched, eyes darting away like he couldn’t bear to look at you now that you were crying.

“Calm down” he muttered, his tone sharp but shaky. He reached to the nightstand, grabbed a glass of water that looked like it had been sitting there too long, and pressed it toward your mouth. “Here. Drink.”

You turned your head away, lips sealed tight.

“I said drink.” His voice cracked with irritation, though he didn’t push the glass harder against your face. His hand hovered, waiting, trembling slightly.

But you refused. Tears still silently streaming down your face. 

Tomura exhaled sharply through his nose, setting the glass down with a clunk that echoed too loudly in the small room. His fingers fidgeted against his thigh. Then he just left.

You didn’t expect him to just… leave.

You laid there, staring at the ceiling, wrists still bound, mind racing. He kidnapped you. Dragged you here. Tied you up. And now he just… left?

Hours passed. You didn’t know how many. The room was dim except for the dull glow of a streetlight outside the grimy window. Your throat felt like sandpaper. You tried to sleep, but every creak of the building made you jolt.

By the time the door opened again, you were half awake and disoriented.

Tomura came back. He didn’t speak at first, just crossed the room and held out a fresh glass of water. You sat up slow and accepted it, drinking quietly for his hands.

“…Food?” you asked, voice hoarse.

“No.” His tone was flat. 

Your stomach twisted. Was this punishment?

“Bathroom” you tried next, softer. “Please.”

This time he hesitated, then nodded. He crouched beside the bed, undid the zip ties around your wrists with careful fingers. It burned coming off, leaving angry red marks on your skin.

“You can’t run” he warned, his voice low and even. “Don’t even try.”

You didn’t. Not with the dull ache in your skull and your wrists sore and your legs weak. He walked you down a short, dark hallway and stood outside the bathroom door while you went in.

Inside, you leaned against the sink, head spinning, trying to think of anything. Could you break the window? Find a weapon? But there was nothing. Just cracked tiles, rusted pipes, and your own reflection staring back at you. Tired eyes, big ugly bruise on your forehead. 

So you went back.

Back to that room.

And that became the cycle.

He’d leave you alone for hours whole days, maybe. You lost track. Every so often he’d come back, feed you something, escort you to the bathroom, say nothing. Always watching, always warning, but never touching.

Eventually, the ties stopped. He left your hands free. He started asking you questions. Small things, awkward things, like “Do you play video games?” or “What do you do when you’re not working?”

You answered because there was nothing else to do. No one else to talk to.

Time blurred. You stopped counting days.

At first, the hours with him in that filthy room were the worst. Whenever you were alone you’d pace, sit, curl up on the mattress, try to sleep, try not to think.

But gradually, something stranger happened.

You started listening for him.

Every creak of the door down the hall, every footstep made your heart lurch. Not with fear anymore, not entirely, but with something like anticipation. Because when Tomura was gone too long, the silence felt heavier. The room felt smaller.

You told yourself it was just survival. He was the only person you could talk to, the only face you saw. It made sense you’d want him there. But knowing it didn’t make the feeling any less disturbing.

When he came back, you found yourself sitting up straighter, voice less brittle. You took the food without looking away from him. You started asking things.

“Where do you go all day?”
“How long are you going to keep me here?”

He never really answered. But he didn’t snap at you anymore either.

And the gaming. God, the gaming.

At first it was just him sitting on the bed, hunched over his console, the screen reflecting in his red eyes. But one night you leaned closer, peeking at the tiny display.

“What game is that?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

He stiffened, thumb freezing over the buttons. “…It’s old.”

You hesitated, then leaned in a little more. “What’s happening right now?”

He flicked a glance at you suspiciously but the next thing you knew, he was mumbling something about stats and bosses and health bars.

You found yourself nodding, eyes following the screen. The glow lit his pale fingers, his chapped lips, the faint tremor in his hands as he played. Pinky’s raised unless he wore those artist gloves. 

The next night you asked another question. And another. And before long, you were leaning against the wall while he explained the mechanics, your knees tucked under your chin, watching him with something dangerously close to eagerness.

It felt…..normal. Almost. Two people sitting on a bed, talking about a video game.

And it made both of you feel strange.

Tomura’s hands twitched more when you were near. His eyes darted to you when he thought you weren’t looking. And you, God help you, you caught yourself wondering what he was thinking, what his day was like, whether he’d bring the console back tomorrow.

Today the longest he’d ever been gone.
Morning bled into afternoon. Afternoon into night.

You tried not to count the hours. Tried not to think about what that meant, whether he’d decided to leave you or whether someone else was about to come through that door instead.

By the time you heard the familiar scrape of the lock, your eyes were raw from crying. You’d been curled in the corner of the mattress, knees pulled up, rocking just to give your body something to do.

And then he was there. The door opened. He stepped inside like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t just left you alone to go insane.

Something in you snapped.

You were on your feet before you even realised you’d moved, bare feet hitting the dirty floor, crossing the room. “Where the hell were you?” Your voice cracked “You left me here!”

Your fists beat weakly against his chest. Not enough to hurt, just a desperate rhythm of panic. “Do you know how long you were gone? Do you-“

And then, without thinking, you grabbed his shirt and buried your face against him. It was instinct, as if your body had decided for you. This was the only anchor you had left.

“You can’t just disappear” you muttered into his collar, voice small and shaking. “You can’t just abandon me here alone. You can’t-”

Tomura froze. He hadn’t expected you to come at him like that, hadn’t expected your weight, your smell, the hot dampness of your breath against his throat. Your small hands were fisted in his shirt, your forehead pressed to his chest. And your breasts, so soft, warm, flattened against him every time you hiccupped a sob.

He swallowed hard, gloved fingers twitching in the air. He’d fantasised about you touching him, wanting him.

“Y/n…” His voice rasped.

You didn’t let go. “I hate you” you mumbled, voice shaking, though your fingers curled tighter into the fabric “I hate you so much. Don’t leave me again.”

Something in him burned.

Finally. Finally you weren’t sitting across the room with those dead, dull eyes. Finally you were pressed to him, clinging to him, your soft body trembling against his.

His hands lifted. One slid up your back, tentative at first, then firmer. The other hovered at your waist before settling there, fingers splayed.

“Don’t cry” he muttered sweetly. His thumb stroked the small of your back. He could feel your heartbeat where your chest pressed into him.

God, he’d waited for this.

Your scent. Your warmth. Your hands on him.

“Shhh… hey, it’s okay” he whispered against your hair, his breath hot and ragged, arms curling around you tighter. His tone was soft, soothing, but it was all wrong. Inside he was so giddy. “I won’t leave you like that again. I promise.”

You sniffled, trying to calm the shake in your chest. He stroked your back in slow circles.

“It’s okay” he repeated, voice lower now. His chin rested on top of your head, his body hard and unyielding against yours. “You’ve got me. I’m here now.”

You clung tighter, not even thinking about it, just desperate for something, anything to anchor you. And that was when his hand drifted higher. From your waist to your ribs. Testing. Sliding upward until his palm cupped the curve of your breast.

Your breath caught “Tomura…” you whimpered, the sound fragile.

He shushed you again, tilting your chin up with his knuckles, his other hand still squeezing at your chest. “Don’t say my name like that” he murmured, but his thumb pressed harder against your nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt. “You’ll make me lose it.”

You whimpered, shoulders hunching, but he only used it as an excuse to guide you backward, walking you into the mattress. His body pressed into yours, pinning you, making your knees buckle as he crowded closer.

“Don’t be scared” he coaxed, though his tone was almost taunting, his weight pushing you flat against the sheets. “I’ll take care of you. Better than anyone else ever could.”

Your chest rose and fell erratically, lips trembling as he kneaded your breast more firmly now, tugging at the fabric like he couldn’t stand the barrier. 

No this is what you wanted. No. No. No. even with the heat pooling in your tummy. You didn’t want this.

“Tomura s-stop” your voice cracked. You tried to squirm back, shoulders pressing into the bed, but his weight didn’t budge.

“Stop?” His voice was a low rasp, almost amused. His red eyes caught the faint glow of the lamp. “You don’t want me to stop. Not when you’re holding on to me like that.”

Your fingers were still tangled in his shirt, trembling. You wanted to shove him off, but your body betrayed you clutching tighter instead, terrified of the empty space that would follow if you let go.

“See? You don’t really want me gone.”

The fabric of your shirt stretched, then tore. You gasped, arms flying up instinctively to cover yourself, but he was quicker, yanking your wrists down, pinning them above your head against the mattress.

Your breasts spilled free in the dim light, nipples tightening instantly against the chill. You turned your face away, humiliated, wishing you could vanish into the sheets.

“Oh, fuck…” His breath hitched, shaky, almost reverent as his gaze roamed over your chest. His free hand hovered before he grabbed one breast, squeezing greedily, thumb brushing your nipple with almost painful pressure. “You’re so perfect.”

“Noo-“ You shook your head, tears prickling your eyes, trying to twist away.

But the word caught in your throat when he leaned down, lips dragging along the curve of your breast. His tongue flicked out, hot and wet, teasing your peak.

“You really thought I could stop?” he muttered against your skin, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. His eyes flicked up to your face, sharp with a predator’s focus. “Not when you’re this pretty. Not when you’re mine.”

Your heart hammered in your chest. You hated the way your back arched despite yourself, the way his praise sank under your skin, making your body burn even while your mind screamed at you to run.

He bit down gently, just enough to make you gasp, then pulled back, panting. His gloved fingers pinched your nipple, rolling it between his fingertips, and he smirked at the way you whimpered.

“Say you want me to stay” he ordered softly, voice trembling with hunger. “Say it and I’ll never let you be alone again.” 

You whined. You didn’t know what you wanted anymore. 

“Tomura please” 

“Please what?” He asked with a smirk. 

What were you asking for? For him to continue? To stop? 

He leaned down again licking at your nipple, his drool coating your chest. He switched from left to right. It was torture. It felt so good.

“You don’t even know how pretty you are like this” he murmured, dragging his palm down, across the trembling plane of your stomach. He left a hot trail on your skin “I’m so glad I picked you.” 

You tried to clamp your thighs together when his hand dipped lower, but he was already there, fingers sliding along the inside of your leg with unhurried pressure. You were wearing his boxers. It was funny kind of. He lend you clothes but you hadn’t realised how exposed you had been down there. 

“All that crying, all that fighting, and you’re still warm here.” He groaned pressing his fingers into your slit, through your panties and his boxers.

You turned your face away, cheeks burning, ashamed at the heat pooling between your thighs “Stop…I don’t…”

“You don’t want me to stop” he said simply, and gave a slow rub, dragging the heel of his palm over the growing dampness in your underwear “You like it when I look at you, when I touch you. You’ve been lonely. I’m right here.”

His hand moved with maddening patience, pressing circles over your clit through the cloth. Every little whimper you made had his breath growing rougher “Say it” he murmured leaning down to kiss the edge of your jaw. “Say you want me to stay, and I’ll make it feel good. I’ll take care of you.”

Your thighs trembled under his grip, and he slid his fingers beneath the elastic at last, gloved fingertips grazing bare skin. He hissed at the heat of you, his breath shuddering against your neck. “Fuck…so wet already.”

He kissed your jaw again, softer now, still coaxing. “Just tell me to stay” he whispered. “Tell me you want it. I’ll be so gentle. I’ll make you feel good, sweetheart. So so good.”

You couldn’t speak. Your lips pressed together, teeth gritting, and all you could do was nod. Just a tiny, hesitant movement, because if you opened your mouth…what would come out? You didn’t want him. You didn’t want this.

And yet…the moment two of his long, warm fingers slipped inside you, every nerve ending lit up.

“Good girl” he whispered, his voice soft but hungry, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You whimpered despite yourself, squirming against him. Every thrust of his fingers felt impossibly deep, impossibly right. Your legs shook, thighs trembling under the strain of holding yourself back, of keeping your voice silent.

His thumb pressed against the bundle of nerves above his fingers, and your hips jerked involuntarily. You tried to pull away, to shove at him, to hide your pleasure, but he held you firmly against the mattress, whispering praise as if it were a mantra:

“That’s it…don’t fight it…you like this. You want me here. You’re so good for me. So perfect.”

Every circle, every thrust, pushed you closer. Your mind screamed no, your body screamed yes, and he fed on the conflict. He grinned, biting his lip as he felt you trembling around him.

“You’re gonna cum for me right, pretty girl? You’re gonna be so good and let go.” He cooed. His voice almost desperate as if he needed to see you come undone. 

And even as your chest heaved, as your nails dug into the sheets, as your face pressed against the mattress, you could only nod again. A loud moan tore from you as you came. Pussy spasming around his invading fingers. God, it feels so wrong but so right.  

You were panting, hot and bothered. Body trembling. You didn’t have much time to process it all before you saw him get up and undress.

The soft manipulation melted away in an instant. His jeans were down in a rough, hurried motion, boxers following, and the full length of him pressed against your already slick heat. His red eyes blazed with hunger as he lined himself up, teeth gritted, one hand gripping your waist hard enough to leave marks.

“Only fair” he rasped, thumb brushing over the curve of your hip. “You’ve been so good for me…but now it’s time I take care of you properly.”

You whimpered, trying to pull back, shoving weakly against him, but he only pressed harder, silencing you against the mattress with his weight. His gloved hand slid down your body, squeezing one of your breasts roughly, tugging, kneading, holding you as still as he could.

Then he pressed forward, shoving inside you in a single, rough motion. Your gasp got caught in your throat, body quivering violently as he filled you completely.

“T-Tomura!” You yelped.

“Fuck, yes…you’re so tight…so perfect……” he growled, pulling back only slightly before thrusting again, fast, hard, and urgent. Each movement was rough, merciless. All of the earlier softness gone.

He kissed the side of your neck, nipping, teeth dragging along your collarbone. 

“H-Hurts!” You moaned shakily. 

“It’s okay….it’s okay, you can take it. Be good for me.” He groaned licking up from your neck to your jaw before forcing a kiss to your lips. You whined into his mouth, his tongue forced itself inside you. 

Your hands clawed at his back when he sped up. It hurt but it felt so good. 

His cock grinding against your g-spot. The tip of his dick kissing you so deeply. 

Your body betrayed you entirely, trembling, hips lifting slightly despite your attempts to stay still. He hummed against your lips, muffling your whines as he thrust faster, harder, chasing his own release. 

You, yourself were already at the edge again. Your vision blurred, head spinning, heart hammering as his movements became erratic, desperate, and hot wet moans filled the room, muffled by the kiss. He groaned, shoving as deep as he could with one last, forceful thrust. His fingers quickly snaking between your bodies to rub at your clit. 

Your orgasm followed a second after his. You arched your back and almost yelled. He fucked you through it, pushing his cum deep into you. 

Once he pulled out your emotions overwhelmed you again. You sobbed. It felt so good, so wrong. Tomura’s chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to compose himself, red eyes darting around. 

“Stop crying.” He growled “you’re all mine. Just accept it-“ He flexed his fingers, jaw tight, and for a moment, his face twisted with something dark, almost threatening. But then it shifted. The edges softened. He exhaled, dragging you up against him, tilting your face to the side, brushing damp hair from your cheeks. His grip loosened, but he held you close, whispering soothing words, voice gentle, coaxing.

“Shh, It’s okay. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being so rough.” He cooed. 

He pressed a kiss to your temple, murmuring against your hair. “See? You’re safe. Just…just stay with me.”

Even as your chest heaved and sobs wracked your body, part of you leaned into him, softening, just slightly, craving the warmth and false comfort he offered.

He continued whispering sweet lies to you all night, he held you, comforted you. And you? You accepted. You stayed. He was all you needed.

Chapter Text

It had been over a year since Tomura first took you.

A year since the dark, suffocating days tied to his bed until your body betrayed you, until your heart caved in. 

Now, you couldn’t imagine leaving him.
He didn’t even bother locking you in anymore. He’d let you roam the hideout halls, pad around in his oversized shirts, sit cross legged on his bed while he gamed, sometimes even wander out to the kitchen. Still, his red eyes followed you everywhere, a predator disguised as a lover.

And god you clung to him. Wary of the other villains, you always followed tomura around like a puppy. You occasionally talked to Kurogiri but that was all. You even avoided the cheery girl called Himiko. 

None of them interested you. Tomura was all you needed. All you wanted. Nobody ever cared about you before he took you in. 

But the outside world hasn’t forgotten you. At least one person hadn’t. 

For months, Aizawa had been investigating your disappearance. He knew your name. Your workplace. The internet café you vanished from without a trace. No family pushed hard enough. No police report that went anywhere. But Aizawa couldn’t let it go. Something about it seemed so strange. 

The area you lived and worked in was not known for abductions. Nor were you someone that would usually be targeted. You didn’t fit the profile. But it was clear you hadn’t just run away.

So when he finally tracked activity to a shadowy corner of the city, crouched on a rooftop and saw you walking freely across a dimly lit window, hair messy, wearing what looked like a man’s hoodie…his stomach dropped.

He had been working so hard to find you, hyperfixating on you and there you were just living?This wasn’t a hostage chained to a wall. You looked…at home.

He narrowed his eyes. That was impossible. There must be more to it. Context that he is missing. 

The League of Villains had not been a huge problem yet. Not a big name thr heroes were afraid of. It was still one of Tomura’s dreams. 

Aizawa’s priority wasn’t arresting any of them. Civilian rescue was far more important. And you were the damsel in distress he so desperately wanted to save.

It happened on one of those rare nights Tomura let you step outside. He didn’t mind your smoking habit. The back alley smelled like rain, damp concrete under your bare feet as you lingered by the door to smoke. 

That’s when you heard it.

“Y/n.”

You froze, cigarette slipping from your lips. A man stood at the far end of the alley, tall, wrapped in dark capture gear, long hair hanging in front of his tired eyes. His voice was low, steady like he already knew you.

“I finally found you.”

Your chest constricted. No one had said your name in over a year that wasn’t Tomura.

“I can get you out” he continued, slow steps forward, hands raised in calm. “It’s alright. You don’t have to be afraid. I’m here. I’m a hero. I have been looking for you.”

Something deep inside you wanted to run into his arms. A hero. Safety. Freedom. But the thought twisted, nauseating. If you left…what would Tomura do? The very idea of not seeing him again made your knees weak with panic.

You backed up a step. “No…” you shook your head. 

Aizawa’s brows furrowed ever so slightly as he stepped closer. “Hey, Hey there is no need to be afraid anymore. He can’t hurt you. Just come with me. Your family misses you.”

“No. No you’re lying” you whispered. “None of them ever cared for me the way Tomura does. He loves me!” Your voice shook, tears welling up in your eyes. 

Aizawa shushed you. You were getting too loud. “Come on Y/n, you know he doesn’t actually love you.” 

“Stop lying! Get away from me!” You raised your voice. 

In return Aizawa tugged at his scarf, ready to capture you as if you were a villain. He knew it was wrong, however you clearly needed help. Needed psychiatric treatment. So if he had to capture you that’s what he would do.

Your flight or fight kicked in. In an instant you turned around and tried bolting back inside the hideout. Only for your wrist to be captured and pulled backwards. 

You cried out, desperate and scared.

That’s when Tomura emerged from the doorway behind you, ungloved hand disintegrating the capture weapon.

 His presence made you sag in relief. Aizawa was quick, activating his quirk to make sure Tomura couldn’t do further harm. 

The ragged looking Man’s hair started floating, his eyes glowing red in a way that you found eerily familiar to tomura. 

 Problem, old man?” Tomura sneered, his voice rasping with the thrill of the confrontation. The giddiness in his voice was unmistakable. He pulled you into his side, possessively.

Half of Aizawa’s scarf was destroyed. It hissed through the air as he unwound what was left of it. Floating in the air just like his hair. His gaze shifted to you again, pleading this time.

“Y/n, please believe me, I am just trying to save you. Your friends and family miss you. He isn’t your lover. He’s your captor.” 

Your mouth opened, but no sound came out.

Because yes. He was right. And no. He was wrong.

Tomura pressed his mouth to your ear, whispering “Go ahead. Tell him who you belong to.”

“I belong to you..” you whispered. Tomura squeezed your hip and you already knew what he wanted. 

“I belong to Tomura.” You said shakily as you looked into Aizawa’s direction. 

“Good girl”  Tomura rasped. 

Aizawa lunged. His scarf lashed out, wrapping Tomura’s arm, jerking him off balance. You yelped as Tomura shoved you aside and the two collided, fists and fabric and boots against concrete. Tomura’s laughter was high, broken like he was both furious and thrilled.

“You’re just like I pictured you!” he barked, ducking under the scarf,  fist connecting with Aizawa’s ribs. “All these years watching you, and you’re even better up close.”

“I won’t let you get away with this, Shigaraki.” Aizawa snarled, his fighting was way more precise and calm. 

“You’re so cool, Eraserhead.” Tomura drawled.  He swept Aizawa’s legs out from under him, pouncing like an animal. The scarf went slack. Aizawa hit the ground with a grunt, quirk deactivating. Tomura straddled him, a knee pressing into his stomach, fingers wrapping his throat, only the pinky lifted.

He didn’t kill him. He didn’t even try. He just grinned, panting, and slammed Aizawa’s head back against the concrete until the man went limp. 

You swore you could see hunger in his eyes. The same look he gave you when he first took you in. You pressed yourself against the outside wall, trembling with fear and relief. 

He looked over at you, chest heaving, hair sticking to his forehead. “Come on, let’s get back inside.” He said hoarsely. “Dear Eraserhead here needs to rest.” The smile he gave you was creepy.

And that’s how you ended up back in his filthy room at the hideout.

Aizawa’s wrists were lashed to the bedframe like you were once, though tomura used stronger rope instead of zip ties this time. His head lolled to the side, still out cold, dark hair spilling over the pillow. Tomura sat on the edge of the mattress, now gloved hand trailing up and down the hero’s arm as if testing him, eyes flicking to you.

He patted his lap. “Come here, sweet girl. Watch with me while he wakes up.”

You were hesitant. It felt so wrong to cuddle up while the man that was trying to safe you was passed out next to you. 

Tomura made himself comfortable. The bed was big enough for him to prop himself up next to the unconscious man. He pulled you forward forcing you to straddle his lap. 

You couldn’t stop looking over at Aizawa. It was a weird feeling. Tomura noticed, but he seemed more amused than annoyed. Suddenly his dry lips trailed up your neck and your breath hitched. 

“T-Tomura” you whined, fingers curing into his shirt. “Shh, don’t worry. Even if he wakes up. You’re mine. I can do whatever I want isn’t that right?” He gently bit into your shoulder and you squealed “Haaah- yes yes” 

It didn’t take long before you were a panting whining mess. Dry humping his lap, desperate for more friction, more pleasure. Tomura was fondling your tits over his hoodie. You didn’t even notice Aizawa stirring. 

Aizawa blinked groggily, then stiffened against the ties when he realised his situation. His gaze cut to you, sharp, protective, full of questions. “Y/n-“ 

You whimpered, eyes snapping open. Embarrassment flooding you. You buried your face into the crook of Tomura’s neck. 

Tomura’s laugh sliced through the air. “Careful. Say her name too much and I might think you want her as bad as I do.” His hand slid onto Aizawa’s thigh, fingers ghosting over his privates. He leaned closer, eyes glittering mean. “Maybe you already do hm? What’s this?” 

You lifted your head to gaze at what tomura was doing. Only for your eyes to practically bulge out of your head. Aizawa seemed flustered and furious. He was pulling against the restraints as Tomura’s thin fingers circled a half hard bulge. 

”Shigaraki.” Aizawa’s voice was rough, tight with warning. He yanked at the binds once, biting back a groan. “Don’t listen to him Y/n it’s not what you think. He’s ma-“ 

“Manipulative?” Tomura mocked, cutting him off, head cocking. He grinned wide, showing his teeth. “Oh but Eraser, you’re getting harder by the second. Is it really me doing that to you?”

Then without warning he shoved you into the other man’s lap. You gasped, palms bracing against his chest, your weight pressing down onto the hard line of his thighs. Aizawa went rigid beneath you, muscles coiled tight. 

Tomura’s voice rasped right at your ear. “See? He likes it. You can feel it, can’t you? Under you.” His gloved hand smoothed down your back, shoving you to settle deeper into Aizawa’s lap.  

“Stop this” Aizawa ground out, low and furious. His wrists flexed against the ties, body tense like he could tear through them by willpower alone. But his chest rose faster under your hands, heat radiating off him. 

“Tomura p-please” you whimpered. 

He tipped your chin up with two fingers, eyes narrowing. “Please what? Please don’t make you sit on him? Please don’t make you notice how he’s getting hard for you?” He shoved your hips down against Aizawa’s lap, grinding you over the bulge in his pants.

Aizawa hissed in frustration, half growl, half groan. “Y/N, look at me. You don’t have to-“ 

“Yes you do, don’t worry pretty girl. It’ll feel so good to have both of us.” 

Tomura’s fingers flexed at your hips, rocking you slowly against Aizawa’s lap, making the stiff bulge under you grind deliciously through fabric. You whimpered, instinctively trying to twist away, but he yanked you back down with a growl.

“Don’t fight me, Y/n. Show him” Tomura rasped, lips brushing your ear. His other hand slid under your shirt, squeezing your breast rough, thumb flicking over your nipple. “Be sweet to him. Just like you are to me. Let him see why I kept you.” 

Aizawa groaned, biting it back between his teeth. His thighs tensed under you, and his head tipped back against the bed, hair falling messily around his face. He looked like a man at war with himself morals burning away under the sheer ache of want.

You moaned, hands sliding across his buff chest. “That’s right keep touching him.” Tomura whispered into your ear. “look at him, poor Eraserhead. So pent up. I wonder if he was going to save you or take you for himself.” You bit your lip, hand travelling between your bodies to feel the bulge yourself. 

“Don’t do this, Y/N” he gritted, but his hips twitched up into your hand. His cock strained against the fabric, hot and thick under your palm. You felt your hesitation melt away. 

Just then Tomura’s hand crept up your ribs again, tugging at the hem of your hoodie. He gave a sharp little tug, baring just a sliver of your skin to Aizawa’s gaze. Then he leaned in, voice hot and cruel in your ear. “Take it off.” 

“W-What?”

“Take. It. Off.” His fingers pinched your nipple, hard enough to make you yelp. His other hand slid down to grind your hips mercilessly against Aizawa’s bulge again, not letting you stop or slow down. “Show him your tits. Show him what I’ve been playing with all year.”

Aizawa’s head turned away, jaw tight, his chest rose and fell too fast. “Don’t listen to him”  he rasped, voice strained. “You don’t have to-“ 

“She wants to” Tomura snapped back, nails scratching lightly down your stomach. He laughed under his breath, the sound almost giddy. “You’re hard as a rock, Eraserhead, and she’s dripping. There is no use in lying now.”

Slowly, trembling, you peeled the hoodie up. The fabric slipped over your ribs, over your flushed skin. Tomura helped, yanking it over your head in one rough pull and tossing it aside.

Your breasts bounced free, nipples hard under the cool air, and Tomura groaned low, squeezing one immediately. He pinched and rolled it between his fingers, moaning like he couldn’t get enough.

“Fuck, look at you. I’ll never get tired of these.” he rasped, biting at your shoulder. His other hand shoved your arms down, forcing you to sit up straight, chest thrust forward like an offering. “Go on. Take a good look.”

Aizawa’s eyes were glued to you despite himself, dark and hungry, even as he ground his teeth. He looked furious at Tomura, at himself, at you but his cock twitched hard beneath you.

Tomura’s hands shoved between your shoulder blades, forcing you forward. Aizawa’s face now pretty much motorboarding your tits. 

Aizawa couldn’t help himself. Years of pent up sexual frustration bubbling over. He wasn’t the type of man for one night stands and he was too busy to pursue an actual relationship. And now he has a pretty girl’s tits in his face? It’s all too much. 

Your nipple brushed against his lips and you shudder. As if instinct one of your hands cradled his head, brushing the hair from his face and scratching at his scalp. He can’t take it anymore. 

A low, guttural groan tore from his throat as his mouth latched onto you, lips wrapping around your nipple. He sucked hard, teeth scraping lightly before his tongue dragged across your sensitive skin.

You gasped, arching into him and pulling at his long locks. Your thighs trembled, grinding helplessly against his bulge.

“Fuck yes” Tomura hissed, eyes locked on the scene, his hand working groping his own dick before undoing his pants “Look at him. Look how hungry he is for you.”

Aizawa growled against your flesh, switching to your other breast, sucking and biting like a starving man. He devoured you, lapping up your whimpers, tugging hard enough to make your toes curl. His eyes squeezed shut, his face buried deep in the swell of your tits as if he couldn’t bear to come up for air.

“Mmh- ah- A-Aizawa-!” you moaned, torn between shame and dizzying pleasure. You clutched his head tighter, rocking against him as his tongue flicked over your nipple again and again. 

Tomura finally freed his aching cock. Pumping it slowly. He enjoyed this so much, too Much. Watching his own girl be pleasured by another man. 

The wet sounds of Aizawa’s mouth on you, your cries, and Tomura’s rough panting filled the room, filthy and intoxicating.

“H-Hey Eraserhead.” Tomura moaned, disring his cock while locking eyes worh him. “You wanna taste her cunnie?” The name made you whine but the thought of feeling Aizawa’s hot wet tongue down there made you excited. 

Aizawa just growled, baring his teeth like a feral animal. God, yes he wanted to taste you more. Yes he wanted to eat you out and make you cum. but he couldn’t just say that. It was so wrong. 

Tomura grabbed your waist, shifting your position, you squealed as both of your knees planted on either side of Aizawa’s head. Tomura ripped your panties off. 

Aizawa’s eyes widened beneath you, a flicker of resistance…but then your dripping cunt hovered over his mouth, the scent hitting him, and restraint snapped. His lips kissed at your pussy. 

Tomura groaned, pushing you to sit on his face properly. “Ah-!” you cried out, your nails clawing Tomura’s shoulders. Aizawa groaned into you, his tongue instantly plunging between your folds, licking you like a man deprived for years. He dragged broad, hungry strokes up your slit, tongue curling just right over your clit before sucking it deep into his mouth. The shame burned hotter than the pleasure, but it felt too good. Your thighs trembled, grinding down helplessly on his face.

Tomura leaned in close, his lips ghosting your cheek, then capturing your mouth in a messy kiss. He swallowed your moans, licking into your mouth while his favourite hero devoured you below.

“See?” he breathed against your lips, his voice a wrecked whisper. “You taste so sweet he can’t stop. He’s eating you like he’s been starving for you.”

Aizawa growled under you, the vibration against your pussy making you squeal, your hips jerking involuntarily against his mouth.

Tomura pulled back just enough to smirk down at him, his hand sliding boldly to Aizawa’s lap. “And look at this” he sneered, squeezing the thick bulge in his pants. “You’re hard as fuck, old man.”

Aizawa groaned into your cunt, muffled but loud, his hips bucking up as Tomura groped him harder.

Tomura chuckled low, jerking Aizawa through his trousers while watching your face twist in pleasure.  “Do you want me to pull it out? Hm? It’s twitching so much.” He teased. 

Aizawa’a tongue flicked furiously at your clit, as if punishing you for your lovers teasing. You let out something between a sob and a moan.

That was all it took, your sounds were so cute. Aizawa groaned into your pussy, suckling on your swollen clit. Your hips bucked uncontrollably and suddenly you felt this weird sensation. 

“Ahhh! Oh God! I’m sorry-I’m so sorry-!” you wailed, cumming violently on his face. Hot liquid squirted across his mouth, his jaw, soaking his stubble and hair. Your thighs trembled around his head, but he didn’t let you go he groaned loud and filthy, licking every drop, drinking you like he’d die without it.

“Fuck.” Tomura growled tugging his lip between his teeth. Seeing you squirt on his face was the most erotic thing he has ever seen. “You loved that didn’t you? Getting drowned in her pussy like a filthy mutt.”

Without warning, he tugged Aizawa’s zipper down and pulled his cock free. It was thick, heavy, leaking. He wrapped his pale fingers around it, pumping slow and deliberate, watching your tear stained, overstimulated face above.

“Look at him” Tomura purred against your ear, squeezing Aizawa’s cock until he groaned. “He’s fucking aching for you. You want to make him feel good don’t you?”

Your legs trembled as Tomura positioned you over Aizawa’s lap, his cock heavy and hot, leaking against your inner thigh. You shook your head weakly, voice breaking.

“Tomura, I-I can’t! M’ too sensitive please”

“Shhh” he cooed, kissing your temple before gripping your hips tight. “You can. You’ll show him how why I love your pussy so much yea?”

He pressed you down, forcing the thick head of Aizawa’s cock inside. The stretch made you gasp, nails digging into Tomura’s wrists. Aizawa groaned gutturally, head thrown back against the mattress, every muscle in his restrained arms flexing.

“F-fuck….” he hissed, hips jerking despite the binds. His eyes locked on you, your ass in perfect view but flicked quickly toward Shigaraki because had your face pressed down now, cock slapping against your lips.

“Open up” Tomura rasped. You whimpered, shaking your head, but he tapped the tip against your mouth until you parted it. His cock slid in deep, thick and bitter, making your throat convulse.

“That’s it” he sighed, eyes fluttering shut as you gagged around him. His grip on your hair tightened, using you like a toy. “Good little slut.”
Aizawa groaned, straining against the ropes, cock twitching inside your pussy every time your throat tightened your pussy did too. The cock warming was torture. He wanted to fuck you.

“You like this, huh? Watching her choke while you’re buried in her cunt?” Tomura jeered, pumping his hips into your mouth harder, spit dribbling down your chin. “If you’re good hahhh- if you don’t make a fucking scene. I’ll untie you.”

“Fine.” Aizawa gritted out. “Just- fuck- let me fuck her.”

“If you try something funny, I’ll kill you both.” Tomura’s voice was stern. He meant it. And it made you whine.

The second his hands were free, he shoved Tomura off, flipping you onto your back with a force that made you gasp. Was he actually risking it? Was he going to arrest tomura?

“Y/n-” his voice was hoarse, conflicted, but his hips slammed into yours anyway, cock spearing you deeper than before. You cried out, arms clinging around his neck as he fucked you rough, the pace merciless. No this was different he wasn’t going to arrest either of you. 

Tomura stumbled back, cock wet and slick from your spit, smearing precum across his hand as he groaned at the sight. He wasn’t even angry. F-Fuck yes!”

You turned your head, moaning, overwhelmed, and Tomura crawled close again, desperate to force himself back into your mouth but Aizawa’s hand shot out, grabbing him by the throat mid motion. He was taking control of the situation. Dominating you both.

Stay. The fuck. Back.” Aizawa growled, snarling at the villain as his cock pounded into you.

Tomura shivered, eyes rolling as the grip on his neck tightened. His laugh came out jagged, needy, insane. “Haaah- oh fuck, Eraserhead- y-you don’t get it. I’ve thought about this- s-s-so many times-” he choked out, lips curling into a grin even as he wheezed under the pressure. “I’ve jacked off to you more than I can count- just to the thought of you. Y-You’re so cool ahh- Eraserhead-!” 

You sobbed beneath Aizawa, the push and pull tearing you apart. Your lovers filthy confession, Aizawa’s cock splitting you in two.

Aizawa’s teeth grit, jaw hard as stone. “You’re disgusting.” His thrusts only grew harsher, though, making you squeal, body convulsing around him. His glare dropped back to you, voice rough. “And you’re letting him drag you into it.” 

Tomura laughed, geeking out. His own cock twitching as he stroked himself again.

And still, Aizawa didn’t slow down inside you. His cock pounded your cunt with every thrust, the sound of wet skin slapping filling the room alongside your sobbing moans. Your nails dug into his back, overwhelmed, too far gone to beg him to stop anymore.

“Pathetic” Aizawa hissed, eyes dark as he leaned over you, his hand keeping Tomura pinned by the throat. His other hand braced by your head, holding you open for his merciless thrusts. “You drag some innocent girl into this filth and she’s just as ruined as you.”

Aizawa snarled, slamming himself deeper into you, making you scream and arch into him. He bent low, voice gravel in your ear. “Y/n…look at him. Look how pathetic he is.” His teeth scraped the side of your throat. “Tell me you don’t want him. Let me take you away from all of this.”

But your walls clenched so tight around his cock the moment he said it, you couldn’t form words, only cry out, tears streaking down your cheeks as you shook your head weakly.

Tomura let out a desperate, choked laugh, drool spilling down his chin onto Aizawa as he manhandled him. “She can’t- she wants both- look at her, fuck, she’s gonna cum-“ 

Your body gave you away, convulsing hard around Aizawa’s cock, pussy spasming as you shattered with a broken scream. Aizawa grit his teeth, rutting through it, his hand still locked on Tomura’s throat as the villain came barely being touched, cum shooting so far it still painted your face. He came from nothing but the pressure and the sight of you getting railed.

It didn’t stop here. It couldn’t. Aizawa hasn’t cum yet. That man had insane stamina. He dragged tomura forward. Your eyes Widened at what happened next. 

Aizawa pulled out of you pushing tomura on his knees in front of him. “Clean me up. And maybe I’ll consider using you too.”

Tomura wasted no time, stuffing the man’s cock into his mouth clumsily. It was clear he had never sucked cock before. But fuck it was the filthiest thing you’ve ever seen. Aizawa groaned hair fisting into tomura’s hair. 

“Filthy fucking villain. Mhhmf.” He pushed his cock deeper, Tomura’s nose pressed into his pubes as he choked and drooled. “Corrupting this poor sweet girl. I should suffocate you on my cock.” 

Aizawa’s gaze locked onto you. Face smeared with cum, eyes wide in fear and lust. His gaze softened as he gently crabbed your chin. “Come here, sweet thing.” 

You obeyed. Crawling closer. Tomura was sputtering and moaning below you. “Can you do me a favour hm?” You nodded. 

“Fuck” he groaned, pushing his thumb past your lips. “You wanna cum again right? You wanna ride him?” 

Your eyes gleamed. You so desperately wanted to cum again. Your pussy was still dripping. “Y-Yes please…” 

He groaned, pulling out of Tomura’s throat. He was coughing and sputtering. 

Aizawa pushed him onto his back before picking you up like you were weightless. There was no more waiting, no prep. You sunk down onto his cock and moaned, riding him like you never have before.

Poor, cocky, foul mouthed Tomura was reduced to a little Bitch. Aizawa wasted no time, rutting into tomura’s ass. No lube, no warning. 

Tomura almost screamed, the pain he felt was almost blinding. You felt bad, leaning down to kiss his jaw and neck to soothe him. He did calm down a bit. 

Aizawa was groping your ass while fucking into your boyfriends. You pushed your tongue into Tomura’s mouth swallowing his sounds. He was twitching violently inside you. 

Aizawa pulled you back by your hair. Grabbing your throat. You moaned and he slipped his tongue in your mouth. God this was filthy. You felt so dizzy. Aizawa’s lips were soft. 

Tomura whined, feeling left out. Surprisingly Aizawa pulled away from you, pulling tomura up a bit. You looked over your shoulder watching your boyfriend make out with a hero. 

The sounds they were making were so hot. “Nghh- close” you whined. Aizawa’s lips left tomura’s connecting their mouths by a string of saliva. 

“M’ too!” Tomura whimpered. 

It just took a few more thrusts from the hero to pump his cum into Tomura’s ass. He groaned. Leaning forward to rub at your clit. Triggering your orgasm which pushed tomura off of the edge. 

The three of you were a drenched in various fluids. Panting and shaking. 

You collapsed onto your boyfriend’s chest. 

The last thing you heard was fabric rustling behind you. It seems…Aizawa was getting dressed. Deciding to not arrest either of you. 

Surely he’d be back for more instead. 

Chapter Text

It’s rare, mornings like this.
No alarms blaring, no patrol schedules, no students. Just sunlight spilling lazily through the curtains and the faint hum of the city outside your apartment. After a fun night out with coworkers and friends. You’d almost forgotten what quiet felt like.

You barely had days off, both of you being teachers and him being a pro hero.  For once in weeks the schools were closed due to holidays. 

You’re standing at the stove, stirring soup, when you hear the soft drag of slippers on the floor behind you. Aizawa isn’t exactly stealthy when he’s half awake, half hungover, but the warmth that follows, his chest pressed against your back, the brush of his breath against your neck makes your hands falter for a second.

“Smells good.” he murmurs, voice still rough with sleep.

You smile without turning around. “You say that every time I cook.”

He hums, low in his throat, and you feel the vibration against your skin. His arms slip around your waist, anchoring you to him. It’s a lazy kind of embrace but no less lovely. 

“You should sit down, I’m almost done.” you say softly, trying to focus on not burning breakfast. “I made you some coffee, you drank a lot yesterday.”

“I’d rather stay here.” His lips graze just below your ear, and your breath catches. “You’re warm.” 

You try to focus on the pot, really you do, but it’s hard when his lips find the side of your neck.

“Shota…” you whisper, the spoon trembling slightly in your hand.

He only hums in response, his breath ghosting over your collarbone before another kiss follows, softer this time. You can feel the faint tug of his smile against your skin when you shiver. 

“I’m gonna burn our food..” you mumbled, halfheartedly trying to twist away from his embrace “and Zashi’s in our guest room…”

“That’s fine” he says quietly, his voice low enough that you feel it more than hear it “we can eat later…and he’s passed out.”

His fingers slip along your waist, tracing lazy circles through the fabric of your shirt. He doesn’t rush. That’s the thing about Aizawa, he never rushes. Everything he does feels deliberate, focused, even now, even like this.

You tilt your head without meaning to, and that’s all the invitation he needs. His mouth follows the curve of your jaw, lingering just beneath your ear until your breath catches again. He know’s you in and out. Knows what makes you tick. 

The soup almost boils over, pulling you back for a moments, but his hands tighten slightly at your hips, keeping you in place.

“Let it be” he murmurs. “Stay still for me my love”

You don’t argue this time. The world feels smaller, just the warmth of him behind you, his lips brushing against your skin, and the steady rhythm of your hearts beating as one.

You close your eyes, letting your head rest on his shoulder, tilting it to give him as much access to your neck as possible. A soft, small moan escapes your lips when he finds your sweet spot. 

“Hmm….” he murmurs, the sound vibrating against your skin. “There.”

Another soft press of his lips, and you feel yourself melting against him. Your fingers curl lightly against the countertop for support.

You feel so warm, so impossibly warm, you just know you’re embarrassingly wet already. 

It doesn’t help that you can feel his half hard cock pressing into your backside. 

“Shota…please…before Zashi wakes up.” You whined quietly, wiggling your butt a bit. 

Aizawa let out a soft groan and gripped your hips firmly. You find yourself teasing him, pressing and shifting softly, letting your body brush against his. 

“Fuck..” he hissed.

You tilt your head back again over your shoulder, lips parting, letting him capture your mouth with hungry kisses.

“If you keep this up…” he whispered against your lips “I’ll have to fuck you right here over the stove.”  

“Please do.” You grinned.

That was all it took, all the consent he needed to pull your pants and panties down to your knees. 

You let out a quiet, breathy sigh as you finally feel his fingers rub and tease your dripping pussy. 

“Mhm. All this just from kissing?” He asked, pushing two fingers in, immediately searching for that spongy spot inside you. 

“Haaaah…yea…can you blame me?” you whimpered.

His other hand slips under your shirt, gently tugging at your nipple, groping and caressing you. 

You couldn’t imagine a better start to your day. He never failed to make you feel incredible. 

“Shota-!” You moaned, head falling forward. As expected he found your g-spot without much struggle, he assaulted that spot over and over again, the pads of his rough fingers felt so delicious inside you. 

It didn’t take long till you were trembling. “Gonna c-cum.” you whined. “Good.” He murmured back leaning over to bite your earlobe.you came within seconds, soaking his hand in your juices. 

“Your cock…please” you panted, wiggling your ass. 

“No need to ask my love.” He grunted shoving his own pants down. God, he was rock hard. He needed you so badly. 

He teased the tip of his cock by sliding it through your soaked folds before finally letting it catch on your fluttering hole. 

The sensation was as lovely as your first time with him. Despite being married for years neither of you got tired of that delicious stretch.

Lost in the pleasure of your husbands thick cock, neither of you noticed you best friend lingering near by. 

Hizashi was Shota’s bestfriend. They went to high school together and once they started teaching at UA they met you. Between being a teacher, pro hero and radio host, he was the most loyal friend ever. He even was Shota’s bestfriend man at your wedding. 

He frequently crashed in your spare room after a fun night out. Yesterday wasn’t much different. 

He had woken up with a pounding headache, wanting to grab some water but was stopped dead in his tracks when he heard unmistakable sounds. 

”Mhhmmfff Shota-!” you moaned sweetly, the loud sound of his hips colliding with your ass as well as the sloppy sounds of your pussy being railed filling the kitchen. 

Yamada’s eyes widened and his breath caught, headache completely forgotten as he hid behind the doorframe in the corridor. 

To be honest, he has imagined it dozens of times. He wanted to know so badly. Wanted to know what you sounded like, what Sho sounded like. How thick he was, how pretty your pussy must be. 

Hizashi was a good friend. However, terribly jealous. A Highschool crush on his best friend and a crush on the pretty co-worker. Both of those crushes ending nowhere. Instead his crushes got married to each other.

Aizawa’s hand splayed flat across your lower belly, pressing down softly. The pressure only making you feel better, making you feel the entirety of his thick dick. 

The blonde imagined Sho’s hands touching him. Feeling him, holding him. Just like he was holding you. 

He bit his lip and palmed his hard cock through his pants. 

“Shota-!” You maoned again, head lolling to the side. “Harder please ah-!” Aizawa obliged, the sounds your pussy was making were obscene, wer and filthy. 

Hizashi’s hand slid into his pants stroking himself, God, he wishes he could feel how tight your pussy must be. How your walls would flutter around him. He wanted you to moan his name too. ”Zashi-!” how lovely that would sound. He but back a groan. 

“Inside?” Aizawa growled into your ear. You knew what he meant. You hadn’t been on birth control in quite a while. You were around baby planning age after all. 

“Hah- nghh- yes I-inside!” You whined. You’d be happy to be impregnated by your husband. 

“Yeah?” He breathed heavily into your ear. “You’re gonna let me fuck a baby in you, my love? Mhhhmm-!” 

Hizashi couldn’t believe the filth he was hearing. He bit into hai lip so hard he was sure he tasted copper. His hand sped up. How he wished to cum inside her, how he wished to feel Aizawa’s cum inside him. 

“Ahh-! Shota-! M’ close!” you squealed, knuckles turning white from gripping the countertop so hard.  

Hizashi tried his best to keep up, desperately wanting to finish when you two do. It was filthy, disgusting and so wrong watching his best friends fuck. But it felt so good. 

“Fuck, Y/n…” Aizawa groaned slamming his hips forward, his hand grabbing your neck to tik your head back and press a hungry kiss to your lips. His tongue saved with  yours, drool running down your chin as he swallowed you moans. 

He stroked he cock faster, harder, he was right on the edge.  

Your body tensed, your orgasm washing over you without warning. Your thighs shook as Shota continued pounding into you, chasing his own release. 

Yamada couldn’t hold it any longer, eyes rolling back as he came, his cum spurring into his boxers and coating his hand. 

Aizawa grunted into the kiss before finally slamming his cock in as deep as he could and cumming inside you. 

You panted going limp in his embrace. This was exactly what you needed. What both of you needed. 

“F-Fuck…thank you.” You hummed eith a fucked out grin. Aizawa pulled out, kissing your forehead before turning away to grab some paper towels. You sighed, and you swear out of the corner of your eye you saw some blonde hair disappearing back down the corridor.