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The Nameless Villain vs Himself

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Hero stalker.

Despite the negative associations that came with that title, Izuku had long accepted it was the most apt description for his hobbies.

His reputation didn’t matter when he had larger goals in mind.

To dig out information on others, one had to observe them. However, most people wore masks to hide themselves from the world. They doctored their behavior to match societal niceties and to keep up appearances, which made gaining insight from casual observation rather difficult. If you really wanted to get to know a person, you had to see them when they were at their most intimate with themselves. You had to catch them when they were alone.

Those private moments were the key to finding out who they were inside.

And how Izuku would tear them apart.

If he truly wanted to dethrone the Heroes stealing Kacchan’s spotlight, he had to know everything about them. The notes he kept as a teenager from street watching and news surfing were no longer sufficient. They were child’s play and he was an adult who could do better. He could find more. Dig deeper. Izuku would scrape the bottom of their closet for dust if he had to. Any tiny scrap of information could be the answer to throwing those Heroes out of the limelight or figuring out how to push Kacchan into it.

As a perky bonus, he also more often than not acquired the information he needed to take those pests out if they continued to stubbornly stay too far ahead of Kacchan.

His current target was the worst offender.

Phantom Thief had risen in the rankings three points this past week while Kacchan had dropped two. Izuku couldn’t figure it out. Phantom Thief had an attitude more obnoxious than Kacchan’s vicious nature, but he continued to rise in the ranking as a beloved sweetheart. His ability to swap between his true nature and his charismatic act helped people forget his moments of egoism and bitterness as he picked on Kacchan.

Izuku needed to take Phantom Thief down a peg or two—the sooner, the better. His master plans of getting Kacchan into the limelight could wait.

He held the screwdriver in his mouth as he adjusted the small camera in the walk-in closet air vent. Izuku used his finger to check the line of sight on the camera toward the bedroom and made sure it stayed firmly attached while he had the time. Phantom Thief had gone out with his Class 1-B friends on one of their monthly get-togethers for class camaraderie or something. Izuku could look up more information on that later to unearth the secrets of team bonding, but for now he had cameras to finish installing and he’d only placed the first fifteen.

The more information you had, the better plan you could make.

Why stalk someone manually when the cameras could do it for you?

Technology had given them all such wonderful inventions.

Izuku licked his lip as he screwed the vent back into place. He checked the seams to make sure he hadn’t left any scratches before shoving the screwdriver back into the pocket of his combat vest. Izuku tugged out his phone and scrolled through the camera feeds to double check everything was operational before he left. He flipped through the screens one after another to make sure every room was still in perfect working order. He found a few blind spots in the feeds, but he could fix those another day. Izuku didn’t want to risk getting caught when he still had so much to do for Kacchan.

Once he was satisfied, Izuku hit the record button and put the phone away.

“Neito!” A voice cried out, loud enough that Izuku heard it from the back master bedroom closet. He froze, checking the time—No one should be in the house for at least another hour! A light smack and a giggle followed the initial cry. The voice grew muffled as she spoke at a normal volume, but there was no mistaking the person behind it: Battle Fist, otherwise known as Itsuka Kendo.

Phantom Thief had returned early and brought company with him.

Izuku cursed under his breath and gathered his bags and things. He’d have to slip out through a window in the bedroom and pray no one noticed. Izuku took a step out of the closet and scrambled back in when the bedroom door slammed open. He pulled the closet door shut as far as he dared to avoid making any noise. He watched from the crack in the center, hoping they stayed away from his hiding spot and remained distracted with each other.

Izuku had proven lucky on that front.

Phantom Thief carried Battle Fist into the room with her legs wrapped around his waist. Her qipao was nowhere to be seen despite the rest of her uniform still in place from the domino mask on her face to the belt around her thigh. Izuku almost dropped his bag, but caught it before it could clatter. Phantom Thief grinned, face pressed into the other Hero’s sports bra with his nose touching her collar. His hands held her thighs while his fingers slipped up to the line of her undershorts.

“Aren’t you glad we left early?” Phantom Thief said, moving his arms back as Battle Fist ripped off his tuxedo jacket. She held herself up with the strength of her legs alone, the muscles in her thighs on display, while he unbuttoned the collar of his shirt. Battle Fist helped herself to his undone tie, grabbing both ends and pulling to bring his face back into her chest. He mumbled into the bra, “You’re not in a rush, are you?”

“Neito, I’ve been wet since you did that stupid magic trick at dinner with the coin,” Battle Fist said, hiking herself higher on his waist. She wrapped the ends of his tie around her fists and leaned back, toward the bed, almost horizontal as she used the tie and her legs to hold herself up. “If your face isn’t between my thighs in the next minute we’re going to have a problem.”

“I certainly wouldn’t want that,” Phantom Thief said, smiling. He flicked his wrist, a flower appearing as it turned. “Forgive me for wanting to romance you a little first.”

Battle Fist blushed as she took the rose but quickly transformed from flustered to entertained as Phantom Thief crossed the room and tossed them both onto the bed and she burst into delighted laughter.

Battle Fist got turned on by cheap magic party tricks?

(Was that information Izuku could use later?)

He hadn’t known Phantom Thief could do cheap party tricks either—he’d thought the tuxedo was for show only.

Izuku almost risked the noise of his pocket zipper to retrieve his notebook and write it down. He’d put it alongside a new page dedicated to “Phantom Thief and Battle Fist had Sex” under the relationships tab.

Assuming of course Izuku could rip his eyes away from Phantom Thief pulling off Battle Fist’s bra. Her chest bounced as her breasts were revealed, freed from their compressed confines and larger than he’d expected. Izuku stared, putting his observation skills to good use as she made herself comfortable on the mountain of pillows on the bed. She ran her hand through Phantom Thief’s hair as he kissed the top of her left breast and trailed down her ribs and belly with short, sweet pecks.

“Now then, I believe I have a problem to prevent,” he said into her stomach. Izuku could see her shiver from the closet as Phantom Thief kissed her skin, slow and careful. He brushed his hand up and down her thigh in a slow stroke and on the last pass up, he slipped his fingers under the top rim of her shorts and tugged down. He removed the undergarments from her legs, tossing them aside with an overdramatic gesture that made Battle Fist snort. He kissed the inside of her thigh, eyes on the area he’d revealed. “Hello there, beautiful.”

“Neito,” Battle Fist said, breath catching as he slid down the bed and laid on his chest between her legs. She shifted her hips and brushed his hair back. “Come on, we both know you’ve got a smart mouth. Use it already.”

Izuku covered the lower half of his face as his own breath picked up. He had a slim crack through the door to see, but they’d positioned themselves so that everything was on display.

Phantom Thief pressed his nose into dark curls as he helped himself with a wet lick. His efforts were rewarded with a shaky inhale that lifted her chest. Battle Fist widened her legs and rolled her hips up into Phantom Thief’s face, throwing her head back into the pillows. He continued, grinning through the motions as she encouraged him and used his thumb to spread her labia and find new areas to explore.

Battle Fist breathed hard, clutching to Phantom Thief’s hair with both hands. Blond hair caught in her nails, but he didn’t seem to mind if it hurt. They were quiet, but the look on her face left no room for doubt: every lick and kiss from him hit just the right spot in practiced motions that said they had done this many times before.

Izuku envied their intimacy.

“Neito,” Battle Fist said, repeating his name again. She put her hands on his shoulders, fingers digging into the white fabric of his shirt. She curled up, wrapping her arms around his back, and refused to let go of his shirt. “More.”

Instead of answering, he kissed her inner thigh and cupped his hand over her slick, lower lips. He trailed his fingers along, drawing small circles against each fold, and dipped them inside after the short tease. He turned his hand with the same flick that he’d used to expose the rose and inserted two fingers all the way to his knuckle. Battle Fist dropped her head onto Phantom Thief’s back and moaned, long and loud when he returned to using his mouth with his fingers moving inside her.

Izuku palmed himself through the front of his pants, forcing his own growing arousal to stay down, though the added pressure had the opposite effect.

The smell of sex and wet noise filled his nose and ears—all hard to ignore when he was less than ten feet away in a closet and watching with too much interest.

Exercising more patience than Izuku would have given Phantom Thief, he continued his attentions for a good ten more minutes. Her hips and thighs shivered as he worked, the motions jerking more and more as she got closer to the end. When the moment came, Battle Fist closed her thighs around his head, pitching forward. She clutched to Phantom Thief with deep breaths that reminded him of when she’d finished a battle on the field.

Izuku dropped to his knees, hand gripped hard to the top of his thigh to keep from touching himself.

Their heavy breathing filled the room as she rubbed Phantom Thief’s back one more time and fell onto the pillows. She rubbed her chest with the base of her palm in small circles, sinking into the mattress as Neito sat up. He popped open the last few buttons of his shirt and wore a satisfied smirk Izuku had seen once before while watching him years ago on the television when he competed against Kacchan in the Sports Festival. The smug asshole shed the garment and went for his belt next.

“Are you ready for act two of this little show?” he asked, dropping his boxers. His cock had filled with blood, hard and upright in his hand. Izuku imagined his own would look much the same if he dared to undo his belt. Phantom Thief pressed it against her and rubbed it back and forth, coating it in the wet leftovers of her orgasm. “I want to make a real mess of you.”

Battle Fist smiled, dropping her head to the side. She reached up and peeled off her mask, setting it aside to reveal her warm eyes. The soft affection looked out of place during the filthy act of their coupling, but Izuku couldn't look away. Strands of her red hair fell over her face and she reached up to touch his cheek. “You do that all the time. It’s a lot of work keeping you from getting into trouble.”

“And no one’s more grateful than I am,” Phantom Thief returned, dropping his smug expression and softening to match her mood.

He leaned forward, his bare chest pressed against her own as he kissed her. He tugged out her hairband, threading his fingers through the tangled strands of her hair. She kissed him back, thrusting her hips up against his cock trapped between them. They held each other, their kisses deep and long as something changed in their coupling.

Izuku leaned on the wall, breathing through the fabric on his glove. He had to stay quiet. He had to stay quiet. He had to stay quiet. His dick refused to let the free show go to waste, however, and his arousal had turned painful as it pressed against his pants and threatened his inner mantra. Izuku’s fingers trembled as he undid the clasp on his belt, using the couple’s moans as cover for the tiny clinks. He shoved his gloved hand inside and hoped the rough fabric would discourage his dick.

It was a shame he looked up at the wrong time, sending a new pulse of desire through him.

“Itsuka,” Phantom Thief said, pushing his cock inside of her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulder, kissing the side of his cheek. They didn’t move, adjusting to each other as he held them together. Phantom Thief ghosted his fingers down the side of her chest to hold her hip. He whispered, “I love you.”

She answered his confession with a kiss, long and slow. Battle Fist ended it first, pressing their noses together and smiling. “You’re so much trouble, but I love you, too.”

Izuku bit the base of his thumb, eyes watering.

He’d done a lot of horrible things in his life, but intruding on this moment might be one of the worst.

Phantom Thief shivered, bracing himself on the headboard in addition to her hip as he pulled out to thrust in once more. The sensual rhythm carried their feelings as their bodies moved together. Battle Fist grabbed the headboard to steady herself, placing her hand next to his while the other returned to his shoulder. Her hips moved in time with his, her voice choking in small gasps and hiccups. Phantom Thief found himself reduced to the same speechless, shuddered breathing with no trace of that “smart mouth” to be seen.

His face turned vulnerable—open as he hid nothing from her. She returned his gaze, maintaining their intimate contact.

Izuku shouldn’t be watching.

He hated that he couldn’t stop.

He hated that he was jealous.

His dick remained hard in his hand—no amount of discomfort from his rough gloves hindered it. Izuku pulled the glove off, biting his lip to keep his labored breathing in check. He leaned his head against the wall again and shoved his bare hand back into his pants to touch himself properly.

Izuku squeezed, rubbing his thumb into his skin as he continued to watch the two on the bed.

He’d been so worried about being caught before, but it was clear those two wouldn’t notice if he kicked open the door and shouted at them. But there was no sense in risking it, either. Izuku returned to biting his free hand, stroking himself to the same thrust pattern as Phantom Thief on the bed.

(As if Izuku hadn’t hated him before.)

How did such a horrible person earn the love of such a wonderful one?

But then again.

Izuku adored Kacchan.

His dick twitched in his hand at the thought of the angry blond with sharp eyes and teeth. Kacchan deserved the world. He deserved recognition for being Ground Zero—an amazing Hero that had untapped potential that belonged in the spotlight. Kacchan was wonderful and Izuku adored him far more than any rational person should. 

But Kacchan did have a rough exterior. As much as Izuku hated to admit it, Phantom Thief was the more personable one of the two. Kacchan had a horrible attitude, a short temper and Izuku would have done anything to be a bigger part of his life.

Maybe it wasn’t too surprising that Battle Fist was willing to share a bed with someone like Phantom Thief.

Izuku would certainly share his with Kacchan’s.

He closed his eyes sinking down the wall as he yanked off his second glove and shoved it in his mouth to bite it. He held himself with both hands, giving his dick the attention it’d been wanting for so long and gave up observing for his own pleasure.

Izuku ignored the other two enjoying themselves across the other room. He listened to the creak of the bed frame and the thump of the mattress, pretending a different set of bodies were responsible for the sound. Izuku dug his heels into the carpet of the closet and arched his back, thrusting into his palm.

He thought of red eyes and blond hair.

He thought of sweat-soaked palms, drenched enough that they could ignite and destroy entire city blocks if he wanted, but instead chose to use them for firm touches and wet skin. Kacchan didn’t know the meaning of the word soft. He’d pull on hair and bite, moving their entire bodies with the force of his hips. Izuku bit harder around his glove, twisting the fabric in his mouth.

“Neito,” Battle Fist said, desperate, hurried, and loud—breaking into Izuku’s fantasy and shattering his vision of Kacchan. “I’m almost there.”

Izuku opened his eyes and tilted his head, watching through the door once more to see their positions had shifted. She’d thrown Phantom Thief on his back and rode his hips, her knees spread and her hands on the headboard. He had his eyes shut, saying “Itsuka” between every breath as she helped herself to his cock. Phantom Thief arched his head back as his hips jerked up and he shouted, grabbing her hips to hold her in place for a moment.

He had finished first—the selfish brat.

Battle Fist closed her eyes, head dropped as she kept going without him. Izuku watched her face and the smile that spread in pure satisfaction as Phantom Thief stared at the ceiling in bliss. He wondered how Kacchan would look after such a thing and gasped.

The jolt of his orgasm caught him off guard.

Izuku stared at the mess in his hand, rubbing his fingers on his pants.

At least the two on the bed were satisfied.

Soon enough, Battle Fist followed Izuku and Phantom Thief. She came for the second time that night with a violent shudder, her thighs trembling as her body stopped moving to ride it out. She hung off the headboard, her breasts hovered above Phantom Thief’s face as her chest moved up and down. She dropped her hands from their perch and placed them on either side of Phantom Thief’s head on the pillows.

Heavy breathing filled the room once more, with neither of the two lovebirds noticing the third voice that had joined them.

“Was that worth leaving the party early?” Phantom Thief asked, crawling out from under her and rolling onto his stomach to hug a pillow to his chest. She dropped on his back and hugged him around the waist. “Or are you too sleepy to care right now?”

“Shower,” she mumbled. Battle Fist grinned into his shoulder and bit his ear. “Show me another magic trick.”

“Whatever the lady wants,” Phantom Thief said. He dropped off the mattress, pulling Battle Fist into a bridal hold. He kissed her breasts again, pressing his check against her side. “And everyone thinks I’m the demanding one.”

“You are,” Battle Fist said.

He snickered under his breath as he carried her into the bathroom. Izuku stayed against the wall in place, pants still open and dick soft as it hung against his thigh. When the water turned on, he stuffed himself back inside and gathered his things once more.

Laughter and the sounds of play filled the room from the open door of the shower, but the running water covered any noise Izuku might have made. He hung his duffle pack over his shoulder and opened the door with a single finger. He crept through the bedroom until he made it into the hallway where he straightened and walked at a faster pace. Izuku passed Battle Fist’s qipao strung over the table lamp in the living room and shook his head.

He left through the front door, hidden by the dark sky outside and set the top of his head on the door and relaxed his shoulders. Izuku had gotten out without getting caught and he supposed that even with a few brushes of jealousy poking at his heart, he’d gotten a free show out of the deal. He had certainly had left the home of Phantom Thief with more information than he’d had going in, which overall meant a success.

He stopped halfway down the street.

Izuku yanked his phone out of his pocket and trotted around a corner to sit behind a fence. He turned on the camera program and gaped.

He’d been recording that.

Izuku had it all on tape back at his home base and he watched in glee at the live feed as Phantom Thief and Battle Fist left the shower, tangled together once more. They dropped onto the bed again and his dick looked forward to the second chance to be satisfied.

He licked his lip and laughed, airy and giddy, putting his phone back in his pocket.

Izuku could watch it later back in the safety of his base.

Hero stalking continued to have unseen benefits and he embraced them. People could say what they wanted about his hobbies—they always paid off in the end.

(Izuku made a note to bug Kacchan’s house next.)