Creep or Coward? - A Shigaraki Oneshot Book

"Apologize to me." m!R

This is an alt timeline where Tomura grows up as Tenko, a troubled young man with questionable tastes and habits that stem from neglectful parents.

These may be stereotypes, but they are not based on real events. Strictly fictional

Warnings: Stalking, perversion, degrading, obsession. Tenko is submissive.
——————-——————-——————-——————-—————

Five times.

It's been five times this month that I've caught the same boy going through my gym locker.

It's a suspicious amount of times to get caught doing something that he clearly knows he isn't supposed to be doing, but then again, with such a reputation people like this tend to be less prone to embarrassment.

Getting caught with your hands in another guy's clothes...? Not to mention being caught trying to take them. I could barely imagine being caught stealing, calmly putting the item back, and leaving without a word, receiving no consequence and then assuming it's okay to do again. Over. And over. And over again.

Today, however, I wasn't feeling so generous.

I didn't wait until after class, no. I didn't even wait until the locker room was empty.

I went looking for him first.

Clearly he'd felt entitled enough to my things, considering my old gym attire was missing before I could even take it out to replace it with fresh clothes. He'd already been here.

Being so seclusive should've made him hard to find, but I've seen that same, messy mop of black hair creeping around from so many angles that I knew where to cut my eye.

In the shower room all the way in the back where the faucets didn't work. It was isolated, perfect for someone like him to lurk around if they wanted to hide from someone or sneak around.

I wasn't expecting him to be some sort of pothead, no. I knew exactly what he was, and he definitely wasn't hiding to smoke weed, do lines, nor drink.

When I rounded the wall that isolated him, I was given a perverted display of the guy with his hands pumping frantically between his thighs, practically huffing the color from a crumpled up black t-shirt— /my/ t-shirt!— whining and breathing shakily as if he'd been waiting for this moment forever.

"Tenko Shimura." I practically hissed, glowering over the young man.

Tenko stopped at the sound of my voice, but he didn't look towards me. He only gasped, back arching and eyes squeezing shut as a shaky whimper escaped his scarred lips, abstract patterns of white decorating my previously missing shirt.

I grimaced slightly at the sight, fists clenched as I shivered, disturbed.

That shirt was definitely staying with him now.

"Ah... I-I'm sorry..." Tenko panted out, a blissful, closed-eye smile on his face as if he'd just baked me cookies.

But no, he'd just gotten cum on my shirt.

"I... g-got it all messy... I was going to return it but... Ah, I guess you don't want this now, huh?" Tenko seemed to pout, fidgeting with the stained shirt which luckily covered his crotch, or else I'd have surely seen him growing excited yet again.

"Tch... you've really got some nerve, Shimura." I scoffed, stepping towards Tenko, who still had that blissful look on his face, although his eyes were open now, a gorgeous crimson red looking up at me from the bathroom floor.

"Not the first time I've heard that—" Tenko was beginning to say before his hair was yanked, forcing him to shuffle to his feet.

The young man clutched the stained shirt even as he stood, almost as if he was suddenly ashamed, hoping to keep himself covered to save what little dignity a pervert like him might have left.