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“Hands where I can see them!” Izuku yells, gloved arms raised, poised to fire a ranged attack on the group of villains gathered before the glow of security feeds on a massive screen.
He takes stock of the situation quickly: three villains, one mutant type - reptile form, from the looks of it - and two unknown. From what he was able to discern from the dispatch alert, one of them likely has some kind of lockpicking Quirk. The other… the other is a wild card.
He’s expecting a fight. He’s even prepared for them to flee, or surrender, if he’s lucky.
He’s not expecting, well... nothing.
But that’s pretty much what he gets, the villains turning to him with what looks like nothing more than mild curiosity.
“Huh,” the villain in the center, a slim man in a long coat says, checking a watch on his wrist. “Faster than I expected.”
Something about his casual tone, the way the woman to his right hops up to sit on the console behind her, the way none of them even acknowledge his statement sends an uneasy weight into Izuku’s stomach.
He lifts his arm further, poised to flick his fingers. “I mean it! Surrender now or I’ll take you by force!”
Silence. Izuku’s fingers twitch, but before he can release a familiar burst of pressurized air, the villain in the coat says:
“Do you know how my Quirk works, Hero?”
Izuku freezes. His Quirk…?
“My Quirk,” the man continues, when Izuku does not respond, “is called Selective Combustion. It’s quite simple, really. If I make skin contact with an individual, I can use my Quirk to give them a tag. It’s invisible, of course; the target has no idea. But if I snap my fingers…” He brings his middle finger and thumb together for emphasis. “Then every living thing bearing a tag explodes. They don’t even have to be nearby.”
He pauses, a cruel smile beginning to play on his lips. “Do you want to guess how many people I tagged today, Hero?”
Izuku’s heart sinks. This room is at the top of a mall, packed with people. The villain could have easily tagged dozens, hundreds—
“So you can see why we will not be surrendering today. In fact… I think you’ll be the one surrendering,” he says, fingers locked in position to snap if Izuku moves a single muscle.
Can… can he move fast enough to restrain the man before he snaps? Izuku’s mind races to find a solution, eyes flicking around the room for something, anything he can use to his advantage, a bead of sweat beginning to trickle down his temple.
“Today, Hero,” the man says, and Izuku realizes he doesn’t have a choice.
He slowly lowers his arms, beginning to tremble. He can’t let them take him as a hostage -
“Okay! Okay, I’ll- I’ll leave, just- don’t hurt anyone,” Izuku says, holding up his palms, trying to keep his voice steady as he takes a step back toward the door through which he burst.
“Ah-ah,” the man says. “You really think I’d let you go call for backup? You’re staying right here,” he adds, pointing a finger at the floor for emphasis.
Izuku swallows, his blood like ice in his veins. Too late… he’s already a hostage. He mentally scrambles to recall his hostage training as the woman and the reptile man move to restrain him: comply, don’t volunteer information, keep to single word answers wherever possible, remain aware of your surroundings and potential escape routes…
He could probably break free from the rope they use to bind him using One for All, but the way the man in the coat keeps his eyes locked onto Izuku makes it clear that if he does, an indefinite number of innocent civilians suffers the consequences. And so he lets them, lets them secure his wrists behind his back, lets them push him to the ground against a desk, wordlessly glares at them as they begin to discuss negotiations.
The man in the coat keeps an eye trained on him the whole time.
“Well, how much do you think we can get? A hundred million?”
“A hundred million? That’s less than two million per person!”
“Is that too little? How much is one worth, five?”
Izuku seethes, hot fury building behind his ribs as they discuss the value of a human life like they're agreeing on the price of a pound of meat. Those are people - how can they talk like that?! Izuku’s fists clench at his back, and he presses his eyes shut and grits his teeth with the effort of holding himself back.
“Everyone knows you don’t lowball an initial demand! It should be at least a billion…”
“You won’t succeed.”
The words leave his mouth before he can even think about them, every muscle in his body buzzing with the need to stop them.
“Oh?” the man in the coat says, turning to observe him.
“Heroes don’t negotiate with Villains,” Izuku says, irises burning bright teal with defiance. “When they find you, they’ll take you down!”
Izuku realizes he may have misspoken when the villains simply exchange silent glances in response.
The man in the coat advances.
“Is that right? Heroes don’t negotiate with Villains?” he says, and his mocking tone spells danger. “That’s funny. I seem to recall you tripping all over yourself to give us whatever we wanted. What was it? ‘Okay, okay, just don’t hurt anyone’?”
“T- that’s different-!” Izuku starts, but he’s cut off before he can finish.
“Oh? Are you not a Hero?”
“No… I mean yes, bu— w-wait!” Izuku yells, twisting with alarm in his bonds as the woman begins to rifle through the red pouches at his waist, only relenting when she plucks out his hero license with glee, handing it to the man in the coat.
“‘Deku’?” he says, unimpressed. “That sounds about right.” He tosses the card at Izuku’s feet, and Izuku’s lungs burn with anger.
“Let me teach you something about Heroes, Deku,” the man continues, retreating to recline in the worn leather chair before the display screens. “Heroes,” he says, fingers poised to snap, “will destroy themselves to save the most worthless of civilians. Heroes will put their lives, their dignity, their bodies on the chopping block, all to save people who could never hope to replace them. Heroes,” he says, pausing to fix Izuku with a threatening stare, “will do anything a Villain asks, with the right motivation.”
“T-that’s… that’s not true…” Izuku says, but his voice wavers, his body trembles, because… it’s true, isn’t it? How many times has he destroyed his body, broken his bones to save even one civilian? But… he chooses to… he chooses to do it, because… that’s what it means to be a hero—
“Take off your clothes, Deku.”
Ice drops into Izuku’s stomach.
“W… what?” he says, staring at the man with disbelief.
“I said,” the man responds, fingers tensing where thumb meets middle finger. “Take off your clothes.”
What…? Why? Why is he saying that? Is he... trying to prove a point? Izuku stares, eyes wide with disbelief. He can’t be serious. He can’t be—
The man’s fingers twitch.
“No!” Izuku cries, trying to lunge forward, prevented by his bound arms. “I’ll do it!” he says, the words leaving his lungs before he has time to even consider their meaning. “I’ll do it.”
The man in the coat nods at the reptile, and within a minute Izuku’s hands are freed, fidgeting nervously as he stands facing those flickering screens and the man’s waiting gaze.
He reaches up, fingers clumsy and shaking as he begins to pull down the zipper of his bodysuit, heart sinking with terror at the realization that, well… the villain is right. He doesn’t have a choice. He has to do whatever they say.
It’s embarrassing… it’s embarrassing, and humiliating, but he’s been embarrassed and humiliated before. He can endure it, right? He screws his eyes shut, tears pricking his eyelids as he fails to shut out the quiet snorts of laughter while he strips. His hood, his belt, his gloves, shoes, leg guards… each item hits the ground one after the other until he’s in nothing but his boxers, bodysuit pooling around his ankles.
Someone whistles, and he cringes, wrapping his arms around his chest protectively, trying not to give away the hot panic beginning to churn beneath his skin.
“All of them, Hero,” the man says, and Reptile laughs, a low, deep chuckle.
Izukui’s cheeks burn with shame as he lowers trembling fingers to hook them in the waistband of his only remaining item of clothing. It’s okay, he tells himself. It’s okay, because… he’s helping. He’s saving people. It’s okay if it’s to help. He’s a hero. Heroes can endure anything if it’s to save someone!
He uses that mustered resolve to get himself through the following minute, the feeling of cool air against his groin, his rear, his hips, his eyes shut tight with humiliation.
“Damn, he’s cute,” comes the woman’s voice. Reptile makes a growling noise of affirmation, and Izuku starts to shake.
He wants to beg to be permitted to put his clothes back on. He wants to beg to be let go, but if he speaks… if he speaks, the man in the coat might use it as an excuse to make the situation worse.
So he doesn’t, instead simply standing there, trying to hide himself with his fists, goosebumps breaking out over his exposed skin, waiting, hoping—
“Hey, boss, can we play with him?”
Izuku’s eyes fly open with alarm.
He finds the woman staring at him, lips curled into a hungry smirk, fingertips extending to form claw-like points as she strums them against a crossed leg. Her Quirk… that must be her Quirk—
Reptile’s tail swishes over the floor, and Izuku’s gaze darts across to find him staring at Izuku like he wants to eat him. A long, forked tongue darts out to swipe over sharp teeth.
Izuku swallows, his heart beginning to pound painfully fast, his eyes finding the man in the coat’s casual, almost bored gaze.
“Want them to touch you, Hero?”
“No!” Izuku says, immediate and loud, voice full of panic, wrapping one arm around his chest protectively, keeping the other between his legs. He doesn’t want anyone to touch him! “No, please!”
“That’s too bad,” the man says with a sigh, watching his poised fingers. They twitch.
“NO!” Izuku screams, stepping forward.
The man’s gaze flicks back to him, waiting, expectant.
Something dies inside him. The implication hangs in the chill air, clear as day despite the room's darkness.
He has no choice.
“I… I w-want them to touch me,” he says, quietly, looking down, clenching his shaking fists at his sides.
“I’m not convinced. Tell me more, Hero. Tell me more about how you want a pair of Villains to touch your body.”
Izuku’s throat closes up, his eyes burning. He has no choice.
The words cause him physical pain as they leave his mouth, choked and unsteady. “P-please. Please... t-touch me! I w-want… w-w-want... to be t-touched. Please!”
His eyes are shut again by the time he’s done speaking, stemming a tide of hot tears. Reptile laughs, and seconds later, a huge, leathery hand grabs his jaw.
He can’t help it. He whimpers, bare skin aching with fear.
“See? Not so hard, is it?” he growls in Izuku’s ear, and when another hand lands on his waist, tracing a path down to his hip, Izuku has to force his body to remain still, muscles tight with the effort of simply preventing himself from lashing out to stop him.
It’s okay. It’s okay - he can do this. The longer he endures, the longer the other Heroes have to find him, and then… and then—
Something hard and slim touches his cheek, and his eyelids snap open.
The woman smirks at him, barely a foot between them, and she drags sharp, elongated nails down his cheek, over his jugular even as he shudders with fear.
Don't move. Don't move...!
“Relax, cutie.” Pointed fingertips pass either side of a pink nipple, drawing another involuntary whimper from his throat as it stiffens.
A laugh. “Sensitive, are we?”
Izuku has to swallow down an undignified, high-pitched noise as a hard, needle-sharp point presses into the raised flesh. “Please!” he gasps, unable to stop the plea from escaping his lungs.
“Oh? You like that, Hero?” she says, voice dripping with amusement, elongated nails capturing his other nipple and tugging, twisting, teasing.
He gasps, and he squirms. He squirms because while his skin crawls with disgust and fear, it also tingles with something else, tendrils of something terrible running down his chest to his groin.
“N-no…” Izuku closes his eyes again in an attempt to shut it out, but that only makes it worse, the sensation magnified tenfold as deft, long fingers manipulate delicate flesh.
His cock twitches.
“No!”
His composure finally breaks, hands shooting up to grab at the arms responsible, but they do not reach them.
His right wrist is ensnared by a strong tail, twisted, pressed into his back with a yell of pain, and Reptile bends his body, pulling his head back, arching his spine to push out his chest.
“Ah-ah! You have to be good, remember?” comes the woman’s voice, fingers back at a nipple, and Izuku lets out a miserable moan, his face burning with humiliation.
“I think he likes it,” the low voice of Reptile rumbles in his ear, and to Izuku’s horror, the woman’s fingers find his cock semi-hard.
“N-no!” he cries, squirming, trying to buck his hips away. “S-stop, please!”
“That’s not what you were saying five minutes ago,” purrs Reptile. “What was it? ‘Please, please touch me’?”
He wants to scream. He wants to scream and cry and use his Quirk to escape, but the man in the coat is watching him, locked onto Izuku’s face and unshed tears with some kind of sick glee.
He can't. Do. Anything.
He has to just let it happen, let the woman's hand wrap around his dick and slowly coax him to full hardness.
He can't stop the tears from escaping at the realization of what's happening. He's being assaulted. He’s being assaulted and there's nothing he can do to stop it without risking the lives of potentially dozens of people.
People… right... the people! If he can just focus on them, focus on the rescue that has to come eventually… What would All Might do in this situation? He would probably have come up with something amazing long ago, something that would allow him to not only escape but take out the villains in doing so. Izuku, though…
Izuku is so busy trying to dissociate that he doesn’t notice his body being moved until his chest hits the surface of a desk.
“Stop that!” the woman says, though he can’t see her. “I want to play with his dick!”
“Well I want to play with his ass!” Reptile’s low, gravelly voice responds, somewhere behind him, strong, rough hands gripping Izuku’s exposed rear.
Blood pounds in Izuku’s ears. He… He doesn’t want that! He doesn’t want either of those things! Especially not… what does that guy want to do with him? His ass? He can’t mean… no, that’s too far! He can’t do that!
“N-no-” Izuku says, weakly, but they begin to move him regardless, flipping him onto his back, the woman’s slim fingers winding around his ankles to pull his legs back to his shoulders. Between his thighs, Reptile’s long tongue slithers out between sharp teeth, dipping out of view, slathering slick saliva over his—
Izuku panics.
“No, no!” he cries, thrashing in their grip, tears beginning to streak down red cheeks. He doesn’t want anything there! They can’t!
“Ah-ah,” the leader’s voice rings out, loud and firm, and Izuku forces himself to freeze, shaking with suppressed sobs as the tears continue to flow. “You wanted to be touched, remember?” No— “In fact…” - no, no, no! - “I think you want it so badly you’ll hold your legs open for him yourself.”
An agonized sob escapes Izuku’s throat.
He has no choice.
His hands tremble as he hooks them under his knees, spreading his legs. Please. Please, let someone come now, please, please, this can’t be happening, make it stop, someone make it stop!
“Tell him, Hero. Tell him what you want,” the man says, voice laced with amusement.
Izuku’s words are barely comprehensible through shuddering, wet sobs. “P-please… t-t-touch me, p-plea… please, touch… t-touch me th-there… I - w-want - it… please…”
“Good boy,” Reptile says, chuckling.
Izuku can’t look. He can’t look as something long, prehensile and slim begins to prod at his tight hole, can’t look as the woman’s fingers return to his cock with a giggle, pulling back the foreskin, rubbing torturous circles around the sensitive, exposed head.
He whimpers, quiet sounds of suffering joining the slick, wet sounds of his body being defiled. Eventually, the thing at his entrance pushes in, wriggling, curling, retreating, before pushing in again. With each thrust the appendage enters a little deeper, stretches his hole a little wider, and he jerks with pain, his body attempting to reject the intrusion along with his mind… but every time, within seconds, the burning violation gives way to a simple feeling of fullness, and he goes back to shaking, skin white under the vice-like grip of his fingers on his thighs.
He’s twitching under their manipulations, tiny cries spilling from his mouth when it happens. The thing in his ass curls, thrusts, and he yelps, his back arching off the desk as white-hot pleasure shoots up his spine.
The villains laugh.
“Feel good, Hero?”
He wishes it didn’t. God, he wishes it didn’t, he wishes the gasps and moans that thing in his ass pulls from his mouth when it curls and rubs some impossible spot inside were gasps and moans of pain, but they’re simply not, and his face burns with shame. His cock throbs hard and hot in the woman’s hand, and to his horror, he finds his hips bucking up, precum dripping from his exposed tip.
How can it feel good? How is that possible? He’s being raped! He’s being raped, it can’t feel good!
And yet, when the man in the coat orders him to beg for more, orders him to tell them how good it feels, he finds his words not entirely untruthful, his sobs giving way to moans.
“Y-yes! Good! Feels good! Feels g-good! Please, please!”
The limb inside him wriggles, curling repeatedly against something that sends pulsing waves of heat into his stomach, and that’s what does it.
Izuku cries out, his whole body seizing, throwing his head back as he comes.
When his senses finally return to him, someone is laughing.
“Really? He came?”
“Wow, he loves it. That’s messed up.”
Izuku blinks blearily down at his flushed body, the puddle of slick white on his stomach, his bobbing cock…
Horror drops into his stomach like a slab of ice. No… no, he can’t - he didn’t! He didn’t come! He didn’t like it, there’s no way!
“Jeez, he must really love it in the ass...” Fingers pull his cheeks apart, and he squirms weakly, gripping the edges of the desk, trying to wriggle away.
“N-no… please... ” Izuku cries, limbs still trembling from his... he can’t even think it. He didn’t, he didn’t -
“I dunno, I think no might mean yes,” the woman says, stopping Izuku’s motions with a sharp, claw-like nail to his throat. “How cliche!”
“Please- ”
“Well, we already knew he was a hypocrite,” the leader says, bored eyes trained on Izuku’s tear, drool, and sweat-soaked face. “Is that right, Deku? Do you say ‘no’ when you mean ‘yes’? Do you say ‘that’s not true’ when you know very well that it is?”
“N-no- no, please, please stop, please, let me go, please-” Izuku says, all semblance of dignity evaporating as he begs for mercy, tears cascading down his cheeks.
Poised fingers tense, and Izuku sobs, defeated.
He has no choice.
“I-I’m- ‘m a h-h-hypocrite. I s-say n-n-no when I m-mean y- when I mean y-y-yes,” he says, despair tearing at his heart.
“So you love it in the ass, huh?” Reptile snarls, lifting Izuku’s legs. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Talon, get the rope.” He licks his lips. “He ain’t gonna be holding any position coming on my cocks.”
Izuku’s heart stops. Cocks? That- he can’t be serious- he must have misheard, there’s no way! Izuku lifts his head with panic, but the woman is back with the rope and they’re pulling his arms back over his head, binding his wrists before winding the rope under the desk and back up around trembling thighs and calves, anchoring them to the legs of the table to keep his legs spread and immobilized.
And that’s when he sees them. Not one but two massive, inhuman cocks between his legs, resting heavy against his balls and comparatively tiny, soft length as Reptile thrusts them against his skin lazily, drooling precum onto his abs.
There’s no way they’ll fit. There’s no way even one will fit, he’s going to break, he’ll die!
“Please, please,” Izuku begs, because he doesn’t get punished if he says ‘please.’ He doesn’t get punished when he says ‘please’ because they can believe he’s begging for more when what he really means is ‘please don’t, please stop.’
And he’s right, because the leader says, “You heard him.”
Hands are everywhere, tugging his nipples, forcing his jaw wide to slip a thumb inside his mouth, stroking his still oversensitive cock, making his body jerk and twitch and strain to escape the torture. He cries out around the digits in his mouth, hips held fast by the ropes around his legs, powerless to stop it as pain slowly, inevitably, gives way once again to horrible, hot, aching pleasure.
“Aww, he’s getting excited already!”
No - no, no! He doesn’t want to get hard again! He doesn’t want to come again!
A hand wraps around his length, a fingertip teasing at his leaking slit, and he sobs, tries to buck his hips, tries to wriggle away, only resulting in failure.
“You like things inside you, huh? You secretly some kind of freak, Deku?”
He wants to say no. He wants to say no, but he’s not allowed to say no, so instead he just whimpers, an uneven, miserable, defeated noise that escapes between gritted teeth.
He tries to ignore the fingers slowly working his cock, tries to ignore the pad rubbing circles around the wet, sore tip. He tries to ignore it, until something hard and tapered pushes against his slit, and his eyes fly open with renewed panic.
It’s one of her fingers, shaped into a long, thin, smooth rod, gently pressing and swirling against his slick urethra as she smirks at him. Wait... wait, she can’t- she can’t really mean to- it’s not meant for that! It’s not supposed to have things inside!
“W-wai—”
The tip of her finger slips in, and he jerks, panic overriding all sense of composure.
“No! Stop, don’t!” he screams, muscles burning as he tries to fight, yanking at his restraints.
She hesitates. “Mmm,” she hums thoughtfully. “But no means yes, right?”
If he was relaxed, it might feel okay. If he was relaxed, it might feel good, but he’s anything but, and she has to force it into his cock, stretching his urethra, filling a hole that isn’t meant to be filled.
Between cries that are almost screams, he sobs “please, please, please,” the only word he’s allowed to say without being threatened.
“Oh, stop whining. It isn’t even that big!” she says, twisting as it reaches the base of his cock, held in a vice-like cage of coiled fingers.
The feeling is… he can’t describe it. He shouldn’t ever have to feel this! His dick isn’t meant to be penetrated, let alone - f-fucked! But her finger begins to pump, slowly sliding out a few inches before sinking back in, thrusting into his peehole, and a wave of nausea washes over him as the physical discomfort, like every other during this nightmare, gradually transitions into terrible pleasure.
It’s… it’s like he’s coming. It’s like he’s coming over and over again. The finger-rod drives deeper, past the base of his forcibly hard cock, somewhere deep inside, and he whimpers . How… How is that possible? Where is it going? His eyes burn with tears as he watches, sobs half-stifled by his tight throat, unable to look away from his impaled, red, aching cock as the finger sinks deeper still -
“P-please—”
- and the tip curls.
Izuku’s whole body jerks, a noise of pure pleasure echoing across the dark room.
Was… was that him? His face burns, and he sobs, shame boiling in his gut. What was that? It felt… it almost felt like his ass, before—
It rubs again. It rubs again, harder, insistently, repeatedly, back and forth, and Izuku falls apart. He writhes, strains, cries out, bucks, thrashes his head from side to side, but still the pleasure keeps coming in waves of impossible urgency, taking him apart piece by piece with every stroke of that torturous finger while the woman’s giggles join the moans he’s helpless to suppress.
“See, it’s not so bad! Feels good, right? You like that, cutie?”
“Please,” he manages to murmur, garbled by sobs, no longer certain if he’s begging for an end or for more. “Please.”
“Oh, don’t worry, Hero, I’ll give it to you,” Reptile says, and Izuku barely manages to lift his head to see strong hands grip his thighs before something slick and hot presses against his ass. No- no—!
The finger curls inside him again, and he throws his head back with a yell as Reptile simultaneously pushes in.
Izuku’s world spins. It’s… it’s so big… even after being stretched it hurts, it burns, it stings, and he cries out again as it sinks further still. His body tries to reject it, clamping down around hard flesh, but that only makes the pain worse as the thing pushes in, forcing him open, filling him completely.
“Damn... you’re a virgin, aren’t you?” he’s vaguely aware of Reptile growling, somewhere above him. “Heh. Too bad.”
The rest slides in with one hard thrust, ridges hammering that spot inside him, and Izuku’s back arches as he lets out another cry through gritted teeth, his cock throbbing. It… it feels good… how can it feel good? It hurts! It hurts, but it feels good!
“Yeah, that’s it,” Reptile says, beginning to thrust. “Tell us how good it feels, Hero.”
He doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to, but maybe if he does it’ll be over sooner, maybe if he does this suffering will finally end and he’ll do anything .
“F-f-feel- feels- g- goo- ghaahh!” He tries to obey, but the woman doesn’t let him, trapping that unbelievable source of pleasure between her fingertip and the cock in his ass. Thought is a struggle; speech is an impossibility. He simply writhes, sobbing, waves of pleasure crashing over his body as she rubs it and the thing inside him slides over it with every thrust.
How...? How does it feel so good? How can the right pressure to the right places on and inside his body make him feel ecstatic pleasure when he should be feeling pain, panic, terror?
“What’s that? Didn’t hear you, cutie,” she says.
She pulls her finger out a few inches, pushes it back in, rubs that spot, pulls out, pushes back in, a little thicker this time, stretching his hole in time with Reptile’s thrusts, and his eyes roll back, moans spilling unbidden out of his mouth. It's wrong... everything is so wrong, but he can only hold that thought for a second before it's replaced with an empty expanse of pleasure.
He comes again, his mouth open and drooling in a soundless cry of ecstasy, balls burning as her finger prevents him from ejaculating.
They laugh again.
“Wow. He really likes it!”
“Of course he likes it. He was begging for it, wasn’t he?”
“I think he wants both. Want both, cutie?”
Izuku has no idea what she's even talking about, delirious with post-orgasm. Both? Both… the finger and the cock?
It hits him a few moments later, when his capacity for thought has recovered enough to process the additional pressure on his stretched hole and remember that the guy has two dicks.
He jerks, letting out a weak noise of panic. “N-no— w-w-ai- no—”
She curls her fingertip, and he moans, helpless to stop it. Whatever is at his hole pushes in alongside the dick already inside, and he whimpers, but every time he tries to speak, she rubs him inside, and his words die on his tongue, consumed by moans and gasps and whines.
Someone's fingers are in his mouth, smearing something bitter across his tongue. His ass is on fire, somehow in the process of being stretched wider still, his dick throbbing and full and heavy, his insides hot lava. Tears and drool and sweat drip down his deep red cheeks. Help, he vaguely thinks. Please, someone, help—
He's crying again, he realizes faintly, sobbing with anguish as he's violated completely. The finger in his cock keeps getting thicker, stretching his urethra impossibly wide, the second appendage in his ass slowly, methodically working him open beyond what he ever could have believed possible, and he can't do anything to stop it.
He's... going to die. If he doesn't die, at the very least, his body is going to be irreversibly mutilated. He can't say anything around the fingers pushing what must be his own cum into his mouth, only let out muffled, garbled moans and cries.
“Fuck, it's been a long time…” says Reptile, pulling out both his cock and whatever else was inching in, and Izuku feels... empty. Relief. God, the relief.
He sobs again, hoping, begging for that to be the end. Maybe they'll let him go, let him put his clothes back on and—
When fingers spread his abused hole again and something wider begins to push in, he wails. No, no, no, he tries to say around the fingers, but it only comes out as “nhh, nhh, nhh!”
It's only when his voice dies, his cries silent but for the quaking of his body, that he realizes it's both dicks. He's pushing both dicks into his ass.
Izuku is absolutely certain this is it. This is how he dies. His body is going to rip in two and he'll bleed out.
But, somehow, he doesn't. Somehow, both cocks seat themselves in his impossibly stretched hole, pushing his insides aside to make room. They must be pressing on his bladder, because he’s struck by the sudden, urgent need to pee, and he tries to protest around the fingers in his mouth, tries to plead, tear-filled eyes wide with panic—
The cocks begin to thrust.
The finger in his dick rubs that spot again.
He comes.
This time, something does come out, hot liquid spraying from his stuffed tip all over his stomach and thighs. He cries out, a pained, heaving sob of humiliation, because he knows what it is.
The villains laugh.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Reptile pants, only pausing briefly before resuming his assault on Izuku’s raw hole. “Let it all out, freak.”
“N-no- no, no, no!” he cries, he begs, he pleads, even as they resume their actions.
He comes again. And again. And again. Every time he comes, more piss is forced from his body, and he realizes with misery it’s because he couldn’t stop it even if he wanted to. The finger in his cock must have penetrated his bladder, and in combination with the cocks squeezing his insides with every thrust, the way his muscles clench every time he comes, resistance is pointless.
“He's so cute,” he's vaguely aware of the woman saying as his body continues to betray him, shuddering with every quickening thrust, his bladder finally, mercifully empty. “Can we keep him?”
No, Izuku vaguely thinks, in the clouded, dark recess of his mind that is still capable of processing speech. No, no- he doesn’t want to be taken away, he doesn’t want to be—
He tugs weakly at the ropes, strength sapped, muscles trembling from exertion until those cocks stutter, and the next, uneven thrust results in a sickening squelch.
Izuku isn’t sure if he’s panting or sobbing as the twin lengths withdraw, something hot dribbling down between his cheeks.
“Tch, no. You think I can fuck any hole twice? He's done.”
A rough, clawed finger runs its way up his crack, dips back into his hole with another wet squelch, and Izuku moans miserably because he barely feels it. He doesn’t want to know what it looks like. It can’t be normal, but— but he’s alive. He’s alive, and… that’s it, right? They’ll let him go now, right?
“Shame,” the woman says, finally, finally removing her finger - the width of a normal finger, he notices, and his stomach gives a sickening lurch - from his abused, soft cock.
“P-please,” he says, his voice hoarse, tugging at his bound wrists.
She doesn’t untie him, though, instead gripping his hair, forcing his head back and her finger into his mouth, and he whimpers as the salty taste of his own piss spreads across his tongue.
He doesn’t notice Reptile moving until he’s back, a plastic bottle clenched in his hand. What…? What’s he doing? Izuku begins to tremble again as he drops to a crouch between Izuku’s legs. No- no, no- they’re supposed to- they’re supposed to let him go! No!
All he can do is cry around her fingers as Reptile takes a swig from the water bottle before replacing the top and easily sliding it into Izuku’s ass.
He moans, writhing weakly, trying to thrash his head and dislodge her finger but his limbs feel like lead. He falls limp, quaking with dry sobs, shaking his head, pleading with his eyes even as fingers find his tender cock and something is slowly inserted into his sore, stretched urethra.
“There. You like things inside, right? Heh.”
The slap to his ass only makes the shame burn hotter, and when Izuku finally looks down he’s greeted with the sight of his reddened cock, the tip of a pen protruding from its head.
He moans with misery, the reality of their intentions only sinking in as they walk away: they're going to leave him like this. They’re going to leave him like this so when someone arrives, he's naked. Naked and covered in piss with his ass and cock stuffed, legs pulled back and apart, everything on display.
“N-no…” he says, turning his head to plead. “N-no, no, not like this, p-please, please let me put my clothes on, not like this!” he cries, thrashing pathetically because he might be able to recover from this. He might be able to recover from villains watching him cry and beg and come and piss all over himself.
He’s not sure he can recover from whoever arrives seeing him like this.
The villains, though, just laugh, and when they approach again, it's only to secure his hood around his eyes, his cries ignored until they’re smothered by the hard plastic of his hero license being stuffed into his mouth.
“Nhn! Nnhh! Mmhnnn!”