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Even the top heroes, it turns out, are incredibly easy to find. Their addresses may not be public information, but with a little digging–on his phone, no less, which says enough about her security–Tomura managed to find Miruko’s address and the exact window he would need to sneak through to get to her bedroom. A second floor apartment with an attached fire escape, how pathetically easy. It’s almost like she’s asking for villains to invite themselves in and have their way with her.
Although, he’s sure a lesser villain wouldn’t be able to stand up to the home security that is the No. 5 hero.
Tomura, however, is the reason for that shiny metal arm leaning against the window that nearly knocks over in his attempt to climb in. A lesser villain wouldn’t dare to attempt what Tomura has in plan for the hero, but a lesser villain wouldn’t be able to hold her down if they tried.
Maybe it’s the thrill that invites him in. Knowing how close he had come to death when he’d faced her, how close he’d be now. His cunt throbs at the sight of her on her bed, rumpled blankets pushed to the edge of her bed, showing off her barely clothed body. She doesn’t wear anything to cover her torso, perfect tits on display as her arms rise above her head. His mouth waters at the sight, lips turning down in disappointment at the basketball shorts that cover her sex.
He creeps quietly towards her, shoes discarded by the window so that they might not leave any tracks on the plush carpet. There’s a fan whirring somewhere, but Tomura doesn’t take his eyes off the rise and fall of Miruko’s chest to look for it. He thanks the summertime heat for giving him a cover for the heavy breaths that fall from his lips as he reaches the edge of her bed. He wants to reach out and touch, to run his fingers along her bare torso and see if it’s as soft as it looks, or if the scars that litter her collarbones rise or fall. He wants the rush of one, two, three, four fingers touching her skin, the fifth brushing the baby hairs along her body and turning them to ash as he plays with death.
But he can’t risk waking her up, and more than that, he needs his release as quick as possible. Miruko is just a means to an end, a way to get out his pent up energy and focus on the war ahead. His fingers just don’t do it for him anymore, and the thought of rutting his soaking cunt along hers is exactly what he needs.
With a silent gulp, he reaches slowly for the elastic of her basketball shorts, hoping to pull them all the way off. Her leg kicks at the feeling of his finger brushing against her lower stomach, causing Tomura to flinch away and hold the pose in a rush of addicting fear, but she simply crinkles her nose and resumes her steady breathing. His tongue darts out to lick his lips, reaching back in to continue.
Taking her shorts off is much more work than he initially anticipated. Miruko’s legs are… very reactive, kicking and twitching at the slightest touch. He would worry that she’d wake up, if she didn't start snoring so heavily. If the tight elastic squeezing around her thick ass as he pulls the shorts off doesn’t wake her up, then surely Tomura can take them the rest of the way off and pleasure himself before leaving without a trace.
The shorts snag on something as he tries to pull the front down. For a second, he thinks it might be her underwear, but one look at the bare sides of her thighs tells him that No. 5 is fond of going commando in her sleep. He huffs in annoyance, tugging hard, allowing Miruko’s soft cock to pop out of the waistband that pools beneath her tight sac, pushing it up.
Tomura’s breath catches at the sight.
“What an unexpected pleasure,” he whispers, throat grovely with lust. Miruko groans in her sleep, but she simply turns her head to the other side, allowing Tomura’s racing heart to cool down the slightest bit. He’d expected a pussy, puffy and wet just like his own. He’d imagined her clit, slightly bigger than his own and lips that were, selfishly, hairless. But this…
This he could work with. His mouth waters at the sight of it, thick and inviting even soft. She isn’t hairless, like he’d expected, but she’s trimmed in a way that points directly to her waiting cock, almost like an arrow. Her sac is smaller than he would have thought, but it’s tight and beautiful, and he wants to know what it would feel like rubbing against his hole as he rides her. Wants to feel them slapping against his ass as she takes him from behind.
But he’s getting ahead of himself. He reaches out with tentative fingers, drifting one down the waiting shaft. He traces along a vein, Miruko letting out a content sigh at the feeling before cuddling into her pillow. It spurs him on even more, gripping her cock in three of his fingers before pumping it lightly. He can feel it hardening in his hands, a bead of precum pooling at the tip. He bends down to lick it off, careful to keep his weight off the bed for now. Miruko’s hips buck up, nearly pushing the head of her cock into his mouth, and Tomura groans at the thought. His pussy throbs, soaking through the boxers that begin to cling uncomfortably to his thighs. Maybe he’ll come back another time, figure out how much of her he can comfortably fit into his mouth, and how much further he can go after that.
For now, he strokes her to hardness. Her breathing gets heavier, small pants falling from her lips as she scrunches her nose. She doesn’t whine or moan, and as much as Tomura wants to hear what she sounds like, he’s thankful for it. He doesn’t need her to wake up.
By the time her cock is fully hard, half the length of Tomura’s forearm and nearly as thick as his wrist, he’s rutting his hips against the open air in desperation. More precum beads at the tip of her cock, but Tomura can’t take it anymore. He pulls his pants off haphazardly, once again thanking the loud whirring of the fan for muffling the sound of his foot falling heavily to the floor when he almost loses his balance. His boxers come down with his pants, sticking to the fabric as a string of slick connects them to his dripping cunt. He nearly moans at the feeling of the cool air whispering against his heated sex, but holds it in with a stuttering chest.
Tomura crawls on the bed with a single minded focus, careful to distribute his weight properly so that Miruko doesn’t wake up to the feeling of her mattress dipping at her waist. He comes to straddle her, a drop of slick falling from his cunt when his legs spread wide, landing directly onto her shaft and slowly cascading down the thick vein along the side. He’s shivering now, shaking fingers reaching out to grab her cock and point it towards his waiting hole. He watches her face carefully, studies her twitching nose and furrowed brow as he slides the head through his wet folds. Her hair cascades around the bed behind her, ears twitching with more frequency than her nose, but never quite enough that he fears she’s going to wake up. He pushes the tip against his hole, not enough to go in, and her breath stutters, tits jiggling with the rapid rise and fall of her chest.
God, Tomura wants to lean forward and bury his face in them.
Instead, he sinks down, the head of her cock stretching his opening almost painfully. It’s been so long, and she’s so thick. Her strong thighs tense under him as she lets out a breathy moan, and it only pushes him further. He doesn't bother to give himself time to adjust to the stretch. It hurts, burning at his opening and bringing tears to his eyes, but it’s good. He feels so fucking full, and when he reaches down to see how much further he has to go, he can still wrap his hand around the base of her cock without touching himself. He doesn’t whimper, that would be pathetic, but he can’t help the noises that fall out of him as he sinks down, crying out as quietly as possible when he’s fully seated.
As much as he wants to bounce on her cock, his cunt is screaming at him for the intrusion, body trying to resist her thickness. It’s good, but he’s sure it will quickly spill over into bad if he tries to push himself right now. Instead, he places two hands on Miruko’s lower stomach, careful his pinkies don’t touch, and grinds down on her cock. He makes circles with his hips, rocking back and forth as he tries to find his sweet spot, hunching over to hide his moan when he finally hits it.
“Fuck,” he mutters, moving in a way that presses against his g-spot deliciously. “So good, hero.”
He’s lost in the motions, chasing his orgasm as his cunt throbs around No. 5’s pulsing dick. She bucks her hips into him involuntarily, making Tomura arch his back and moan in pleasure. Her face twitches in her sleep, breath stopping for one, terrifying moment as Tomura prays the fan has covered up this noise too. He doesn’t stop moving, even as he searches her face for any sign of waking up. She continues to buck her hips, tiny little thrusts that manage to make Tomura see stars.
He’s a moaning, whimpering mess on top of her, hastily shoving his hand in his mouth in order to keep quiet. It’s just so fucking good, Toga was right. This is exactly what he needed, risking death on the cock of a hero who might just kill him were she to wake up.
He can’t be bothered to care about that. He starts to lose the rhythm of his grinding as that familiar static feeling begins to pool in his groin. His head falls backwards and he closes his eyes as he chases his orgasm. It’s so close, he can feel it. He whines and whimpers as she bucks into him with a steady rhythm, hitting his g-spot nearly every time.
And then, out of nowhere, he’s thrown onto his back, hands pinned above his head.
His eyes fly open to see Miruko on top of him, red eyes boring into his own and grinning at him with a feral smirk. For a second, he forgets to struggle, and that’s all Miruko needs to secure him against the bed. Even with one arm, her hold is strong, small hand wrapping perfectly around his wrists.
“What do we have here?” she drawls, looking down at his clothed torso. He struggles, trying to use his hips to push her off him, but all it does is press her cock deeper inside.
Tomura holds back a moan. “Get off of me,” he tries, but her thighs are strong around his own, hips keeping him firmly in the bed and fingers far from touching her.
“I think that’s my line, villain.” Miruko punctuates her statement with a hard thrust of her hips that has Tomura’s vision blurring. He can’t hold back the moan this time, panting wildly and refusing to meet her gaze. “Did you really think you could sneak in here without waking me up? Sit on my cock like a depraved slut and just get away with it?”
He doesn’t answer. Because, yes, of course that’s what he thought. She presses him harder into the bed, her tits brushing against his shirt, making him wish he’d taken it off in his haste to get her inside of him.
“Answer me, Tomura,” she demands, thrusting into him again, using her quirk to power it. He nearly hits his head on the headboard with the force, and fuck, if she keeps that up he’ll be finish in no time.
“I don’t owe you shit, hero,” he snarls, pushing back on her cock with a satisfied smirk. Miruko remains completely unaffected, not even a stuttered breath to reveal her pleasure.
“Oh you are a slut,” she purrs “Need it so bad you had to come crawling to a hero.”
“Shut the fuck up,” he says, for lack of a better comeback. She doesn’t move to thrust again, but his cunt clenches around her. He’s still so full, so close to orgasm that it’s hard to think.
“Oh I’ll give you what you want,” she tells him, “But you have to do something for me, when it’s all over.” She grinds into him once again, this time keeping up a slow but steady rhythm. She’s trying to entice him.
And, fuck. It’s working.
“Not a chance,” he grits, trying to keep his composure.
“I don’t think you’re in a position to make that decision, Tomura.” Fuck him for thinking he could get off with Miruko and her damn rabbit quirk. The power in her legs translates perfectly into her thrusts, just the right pressure that has Tomura teetering on the edge again. If only she would go just a little bit faster…
“So here’s what I’m going to do,” she says, bending down to lick at his neck. She nips at it once before moving to his ear. “I’m going to fuck you, punish you like you deserve, until you’re a mindless, sobbing mess. You won’t even be able to think when I’m done with you. And then you’re going to do whatever I tell you to, like a good boy. Isn’t that right, Tomura?”
He doesn’t answer in words, only in moans as he arches his back. She growls at him, biting his neck harshly, earning a whine.
“Answer me when I speak to you, Tomura.”
He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t give in, show her weakness. He should fight back, take control of the situation and put himself back on top. He could finish himself off, riding her into the mattress with one hand on her throat, pinky mere centimeters away from touching her skin, and take what he wants from her.
But he can’t. Not when her cock keeps slamming against the spot that drives him wild. Not when his clit is throbbing with want, slick dribbling out of his cunt with every thrust. He needs this.
“Yes,” he responds. “Yes, just fuck me.”
“Good boy,” she tells him before sitting back up. Her hand remains around his wrists, he doesn’t think she’ll ever let them go, but she doesn’t need another arm to fuck him. If he thought her earlier thrusts were mind numbingly good, they’re nothing compared to now. She slams into him with reckless abandon, rolling her hips just so, the tip of her cock slamming into his g-spot before pulling back out again. The stretch is amazing, he’s long since gotten used to it, and he’s cumming within seconds.
“Fuck!” he screams, no longer afraid of making too much noise. He loses his words as the world whites out, the dark room growing brighter as his vision goes fuzzy. He knows he’s making noise, can feel it in his throat, but it can’t be words. His mind is too far gone for that, letting out screaming moans of pleasure as she just doesn’t stop.
“Pathetic,” she says, looking as unaffected as ever. Her face remains impassive as she fucks him, as if she doesn’t feel anything. It’s only the twitching of her expressive ears that tells Tomura otherwise. “Only a couple thrusts and I’ve already got you writhing like a bitch.”
He can’t catch his breath, struggling to get out of her hold. It’s too much. He’s sensitive and her thrusts haven’t slowed at all.
“Stop!” he screams. “Fuck, stop! It’s too much! Get off of me!” He tries to pull away from her thrusts, but it only earns him a harder pounding. He can’t see through his tears, but her face gets closer to his and he’s sure she’s got a vicious expression on her face.
“I don’t think I will,” she says. “After all, you didn’t give me a chance to say no, did you?”
He hadn’t expected her to wake up. Had he gotten his way, she would have never known he was ever there. Maybe she’d just chalk it all up to a pleasant dream, her powerful legs kicking her pants off in the process. He hadn’t given her a chance to say no, but he wasn’t going to give her a chance to say yes either.
“You’re going to lay there and take my cock like a good boy,” she emphasizes those last two words with two especially brutal thrusts, “until I cum or you black out. Whichever comes first.”
He nods stupidly. It’s starting to feel good again, even if he still feels too full. He’s just thankful she doesn’t have another hand to abuse his clit with. He’s sure he wouldn’t live to see it through if she abused that with the same violence she shows his cunt. He bites his lips to quell the pleading that threatens to escape him. He’s far past caring about the way that he moans and wails like a bitch, but he won’t give her the pleasure of hearing him beg for more.
“Unlike you, I’m not a villain. I prefer my partners fully awake. It won’t be fun for me if you pass out,” she explains, voice calm and even. It’s infuriating, and he wants nothing more than to do something to get her back for the pleasure she’s forcing onto him. But he can’t fucking move, even if he tries to grind his hips in time with her thrusts. He can feel his second orgasm coming on, and fuck he’s not sure if he’s going to make it to a third.
“I like ‘em vocal. When they’re too fucked up to think about the filth spewing from their lips.” She leans down, breath fanning against his face. He tries to pull away from it, turn his head to the side, but it’s useless. She chuckles, pulling his lower lip before her teeth and biting hard enough for him to whine. “I know you’re holding back on me, Tomura, but you’ll get there.”
She trails sloppy kisses down his jawline and on to his neck, coming back to that same spot she’d bitten earlier to give a few kitten licks. It feels so good, like this he can feel her mound rubbing against his clit with every thrust. He’s so close, and when she bites down on him hard enough that he can feel blood start to well, he cums for the second time.
“Good boy,” she coos, pulling away to watch his blissed out face. He’s so far gone that he can’t see, despite knowing his eyes are blown wide open. His entire body spasms with the force of his orgasm.
“Please,” he whines, unsure of what he’s asking for. His tongue lolls out of his mouth as she continues her brutal pace. He can’t stop shaking, and it feels like his orgasm goes on forever, no end in sight. “Too much!”
“That’s it, baby,” she says, “you’re doing so good for me.”
He nods frantically, staring up at her. For the first time, she finally looks like she’s getting something out of this. Her eyes are half lidded and she’s panting slightly, in what Tomura hopes isn’t just exertion. She licks her lips as she stares at him, and Tomura is so far past caring about his reputation.
“Feels so good,” he moans. “So full. Want more.”
“Yeah?” Miruko asks, breathy and hopeful. “Tell me what you want, baby.”
If, at any other moment, someone had used that pet name on him, Tomura might have dusted them right there. But somehow, the word goes straight to his groin, bringing that same electric feeling back as he nears his third orgasm.
“Fuck!” he screams, back arching, scrambling to find the words to convey what he wants. “Cum!”
“You wanna cum again?” she tries. “You don’t need my permission for that.”
Tomura shakes his head, sobbing as the pressure builds and builds. It’s foreign and familiar all at once, the feeling in his lower stomach taking over his entire body. His hips shake off the bed, and Miruko doesn’t have another arm to push him down, so she simply adjusts her hips so that she’s pounding him down into the mattress, putting enough pressure on that bladder that Tomura knows exactly what that foreign feeling is.
He tries to warn her, but she’s still caught up in her earlier question. “You want my cum, baby?” He tries to shake his head, but his mind is fuzzy and it comes out as a nod as the warning refuses to fall from his lips. “You’re going to have to work for it, then, slut.”
With a final, brutal thrust that pushes directly into his bladder, Tomura lets go, sobbing as a gush of hot piss sprays onto Miruko’s cock, his third orgasm hitting him as his piss pools against his bare ass.
For the first time since she started, Miruko pauses. Tomura’s heart drops at the look on her face, staring at the stream of piss soaking into her sheets with wide, disbelieving eyes. He tries, but he can’t stop it. An apology falls on his tongue, but he bites it back, the back of his mind telling him he shouldn’t dare apologize to a hero.
“Disgusting,” she groans, pushing into him slowly. Now that she’s much closer to him, his stream splashes against her violently, spraying hard enough that he can feel droplets soaking into the fabric of his shirt. “You dirty fucking slut, you’re making a mess.”
The stream begins to slow, and Miruko takes that as her chance to start her pace back up. She punches into him with the same vigor that forced the piss out of him in the first place, her constant abuse on his bladder forcing the stream to strengthen again and make an absolute mess of the two of them.
“Dirty, nasty fucking villain,” she mumbles as his piss slowly turns into a trickle. He’s not sure if she’s aware of the stream of consciousness filth coming out of her mouth, but he couldn’t question it even if he wanted to. The combination of her words and the delicious feeling of emptying his bladder makes him feel drunk, eyes rolling back into his head and tongue falling out of his mouth, catching a few droplets of his own piss every now and then.
If he cums a fourth time, he doesn’t know it. He’s too far gone to make sense of anything around him. He can hear Miruko saying something, but the words don’t quite reach his brain. The only thing that exists to him in those moments are the feeling of her thick cock assaulting his insides and the flooding feeling of warmth deep in his cervix when her thrusts come to an abrupt stop.
He stays in that headspace for what could be hours but is probably only a few minutes. His eyes are open but unseeing, the sound of Miruko’s voice in his ear like she’s underwater. His body tingles where she touches him, pulling him away from the puddle of piss that starts to soak into the back of his shirt. He nearly curls into the feeling of her body against his, but his brain comes back to him in time for him to remember how terrible of an idea that is.
“Didn’t think you were one for aftercare, Shigaraki,” she comments when his hearing comes back to him. His heart stutters at the sound of his family name replacing the Tomura that had fallen out of her mouth earlier, but he doesn’t comment.
“‘s not aftercare,” he grumbles, trying to catch his breath. “You fucking killed me, I need a minute.”
Miruko snorts. “You’re lucky I’m a good person,” she says, finally getting out of bed. His eyes follow her as she goes, stepping into one of the two doors in her room and coming out with a damp washcloth. For a second, he thinks she might clean him up, but the rag flies towards him and splats uncomfortably on his chest, pulling him back into reality. “Take a minute to catch your breath, but I want you cleaned up and out of here as soon as possible.”
Tomura raises an eyebrow. “I’m sure your superiors would love to know you just let a villain go,” he tells her, running the rag gently against his sore cunt. He’s still far too sensitive, but he wants to get out of here just as much as she does. The longer he stays here, nearly incapacitated and weak, the more likely she is to change her mind and keep him here.
“Don’t think the commission would agree with my methods.” Miruko shrugs, walking to her closet to pull out another fresh pair of shorts. She doesn’t bother with a shirt, turning to face Tomura with her chest on full display. It makes his clit throb again, but the pain of overstimulation isn’t worth it. “And besides. Why capture you now, when you’re at your lowest, when I can have the glory of taking you down during battle?”
Tomura rolls his eyes. If she couldn’t take them down last time, when Tomura wasn’t at his strongest, she certainly won’t be able to once they’ve gone through with their plan.
“You said you wanted something from me,” he changes the subject.
“Thought you weren’t willing to give me shit?”
“I’m not,” he snaps, finally finished with the torture that was cleaning her cum out of him. He moves carefully to the edge of the bed in search of his pants, wishing he would have worn a more comfortable pair of underwear, knowing his walk back is going to be hell. “We both got what we wanted.”
Miruko hums, watching as he tries to grab his pants without standing up off the bed. She takes pity on him, bending over to pick them up herself and throwing them at him. They hit him in the face, but he still feels too weak from his orgasms to retaliate in any way. He shuffles on the bed, pulling his underwear on before looking at the pants and giving up. He’s Japan’s most wanted villain, he knows how to get around the city without being caught, what does it matter if he wears pants anyway?
He balls them up in his arms, intending to get up and leave, when he looks up to see Miruko’s face mere inches from his. His eyes glance down to her chest before quickly coming back to her eyes. She simply smirks at him.
“Maybe you wont give it to me now, Shigaraki, but I have a feeling you’ll be back.”
He snarls at her, pushing her away and standing up to make his way towards the window. “Absolutely not.”
She watches him try to unlatch and push the window up with an amused smile.
“Don’t worry, I’ll have you trained in no time. The perfect little slut, taking my cock like it’s what you were made for.”
Tomura doesn’t grant her a response, finally getting the damn latch to unhook and forcing the window open with enough force that it nearly breaks entirely. Miruko doesn’t comment on it, coming up behind him to push her chest against his still damp back.
“You were such a good boy, felt so good you couldn’t hold it in,” he shivers at the feeling of her breath against his neck, rushing to get out of the window. He manages to get on the fire escape, turning back to look at her as she watches him through the open window. Her eyes are half lidded and once again, Tomura throbs at the sight of her.
“You’ll be back, Tomura. I’ll be waiting for you.”
The look of disgust on his face is artificial, placed there by the voice in the back of his head that sounds exactly like sensei.
“Fuck you,” he responds intelligently. He turns on his heel once he’s satisfied he’s gotten that last word, and hastily climbs down the fire escape.
“Maybe next time,” she calls out before the sound of the window shutting echoes across the alley.
His heart stops, hoping no one was curious enough to look out and see who was causing all the noise this late at night. He takes one last look at her window, now empty and dark, and curses himself.
There’s no way he can stay away from her now that he knows what she feels like inside of him. God damn it. He’s definitely going to be back for more, isn’t he?