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It takes Izuku fifteen fucking years to discover his quirk. By that time, he’s already acquired another one.
Why does it take so long?
Because Midoriya Izuku has never told anyone what to do.
Literally.
After he realizes-- and after he can finally breathe around the red haze of seething-- he thinks back to the few times he thought he used the imperative tense on someone. Mostly he’d tried convincing, tried pleading-- but he’d never told Kacchan to stop hurting other kids. Just said “If you don’t stop” and “I’ll never forgive you.” Even his most assertive statements were “you’re not supposed to”s.
How, in all those years, had he never snapped and told Kacchan to stop?
It took a week for Izuku to stop shaking every time he thought about it-- the notion that if he had just been more specific he could have avoided half his childhood trauma.
Even knowing about his quirk, it felt unnatural-- to tell someone to do something instead of asking, or suggesting, or pleading.
He couldn’t believe it at first. He spent his time monitoring his choice of words, stunned over and over again. It wasn’t ever “don’t talk with your mouth full” at lunch, but “you shouldn’t talk with your mouth full.”
Instead of “don’t harass women” it was “it’s rude to harass women, Mineta!”
Even when he intended to correct someone, it came out as a suggestion.
But, it made sense! Who was he, to tell people what to do? How confident did you have to be, to order people around all that time? That’s not Deku! That wasn’t Izuku at all.
And yet... this whole time...
He’d had a quirk this whole time.
He’d heard it before, hadn’t he? Everyone agreed. A good portion of “quirkless” people actually have invisible quirks; quirks that have subtle effects, like making the wind blow every third Tuesday, or quirks with very specific activation requirements!
Some people bounce when they fall from great heights-- but they have to have a fatal fall to discover it! To breathe underwater, you have to open your mouth underwater and inhale-- if you don’t, how would you know? People go their entire lives without falling off buildings or drowning.
Izuku had hoped and prayed his quirk would become apparent. Now, after UA-- after One For All--
What kind of timing was that?
He was almost scared to try it out. He definitely couldn’t tell anyone! What would All Might even think?
At least he knew he wouldn’t activate it on purpose. It just wasn’t his character to command people all willy-nilly.
He’d have to test it out carefully, and only use it when he was sure it was safe.
-
Izuku held his breath and went red in the face, and it still took eight separate attempts before he did it without backing down and running away. His first simple tests, once he worked up that courage--!
They were inconclusive.
Izuku’s shoulders had slumped once he realized.
Telling someone “pass me a pencil” or “turn on that lamp” in the common room-- only when it was him and one other person!-- was maybe a poor test. What if those were things they would do anyway? Iida was always very good about lending pencils (so long as you gave them back; the lecture, otherwise, was Not Worth It), and Uraraka was a kind and polite person! Of course she would turn on the light to spare his eyes as they studied!
How could he know if he was even using his quirk at all!?
-
Oh, god.
Izuku realized he was going to have to order someone to do something unusual. Something out of character. No, more than that.
If he told someone like Todoroki to do something strange, then that person might raise an eyebrow, give Izuku a weird look, and do it anyway! Because they were his friend! Or because they were curious.
It had to be...
He had to order someone to do something they wouldn’t usually do, not even out of curiosity. Something they didn’t want to do.
It was the only way to be sure!
-
Izuku spent another week procrastinating. He just couldn’t do it.
Every time he was alone with one of his friends, he stammered and gave up.
He couldn’t help it! He’d wanted friends all his life and now that he finally had some, how could he risk it?
Izuku realized he had to try his quirk out on someone... who wasn’t his friend.
-
But everyone in class was so nice!
Even the people he didn’t really talk to, wouldn’t he feel bad if he made them do something weird just to test out his quirk? They were all people who could be friends with him, in the future. Nobody at school thought of him as a quirkless freak; everyone was a possible friend.
Well.
Almost everyone.
-
The upside to testing out his quirk with Kacchan is, of course, how foolproof it is.
He spent forty minutes working himself up to the task, practicing his voice until it didn’t shake, and then walked into the room before he could chicken out (again).
With Kacchan, he wouldn't have to wonder. Kacchan would never listen to him out of anything but a quirk’s effect. He could tell Kacchan to turn off the light, and Kacchan would turn on every light in the dorms on sheer principle.
So it was fine.
“Tell me a joke.” He said firmly, stepping into the kitchen with his eyes clenched shut. As if braced for a blow.
“Your face, nerd.” Kacchan snorted to himself.
Well, shit.
Izuku breathed in through his nose and cracked one eye open. Kacchan didn’t turn around, still cooking at the stove.
“Tell me... I’m going to make an amazing hero.” Izuku’s voice cracked.
“You’re going to make an amazing hero.” The eye-roll was audible, sarcasm dripping from each word. “What the fuck do you want, Deku?”
Was it working?
“Let go of the handle.” Kacchan was sauteing meat. He tossed the contents of the pan with a flourish and then set it down again, hand letting go of the handle. He continued on as normal.
“You’re such a fucking creeper, lurking in the doorway. I’m not feeding you! This food is for me only.”
Everything in Izuku said he should leave now, run before Kacchan’s mood soured.
What was something Kacchan definitely wouldn’t do!?
Izuku had to come up with something before his nerve failed him.
“Tell me h-how often you jerk off!” Izuku managed, fire-engine red.
Kacchan turned on him, brows thunderous.
“What kind of question is that!?” He demanded. “My hands make nitroglycerin, I’m not putting them on my dick like that!”
Izuku turned tail and ran.
-
Later, much later, when his heart rate had finally slowed down, Izuku marked the experiment as a tentative success.
-
He started slipping commands into otherwise innocuous conversation, mostly innocently. Sometimes he got a few raised eyebrows in return, but everyone did what he told them. It was fascinating. For the most part, nobody’s personalities changed.
Just as Kacchan was still Kacchan as he obeyed Izuku’s quirk, so too did nobody else act unnaturally under its influence. They all continued on as they normally would, folding his imperative into their average behavior.
It was endlessly interesting to see what kind of commands he could slip into normal life. He kept a coded notebook about who had done what, when, and how they had interpreted the orders.
Quirks had always been fascinating to him, and this was one he could observe any time he wanted. Unlike with One For All-- miracle though it was-- he didn’t need to be in combat to use his quirk. It was completely invisible.
-
Shinsou moved into Class 1A.
It took Izuku exactly one week to notice the obvious.
-
After that, he started asking questions. Shinsou was not amused at the quirk questions, but after the rest of the class laughed Izuku’s obsession off as a hobby, slowly warmed up to the overtures of friendship.
It was from Shinsou that Izuku learned his most important lesson.
-
“Don’t make a big deal out of it when I tell you to do something.” Izuku told everyone he met. One thing he’d discovered was that his commands stuck. Unlike Shinsou’s quirk, which was fairly temporary when someone was under Hypnosis, Izuku’s commands didn’t wear off.
He’d tested it.
“Don’t ever make a big deal out of it when I tell you to do something.” He amended, just in case. He wanted to avoid the appearance of a “one and done” command, the implication of currency.
“Don’t ever speculate about my quirk, now or in the future. Don’t ever think poorly of me for giving a weird command. Don’t ever tell anyone about my quirk.”
He added on as many commands about secrecy and inconspicuousness as he could think of, and then he kept a running list of who had and hadn’t been told yet.
Izuku had a list and he checked it twice. He didn’t want anyone to figure it out. Anyone who saw he had two quirks could learn All Might’s secret!
He had to protect One For All.
-
Izuku learned Black Whip, like some kind of Pokemon picking up new moves.
Don’t think I have more than one quirk, joined his list of commands that everyone received. Assume that all quirk manifestations are part of one very complicated quirk that I was born with. Do not speculate about it.
-
Peppering commands into everyday conversation made Izuku bolder.
He stopped worrying about saying the wrong thing.
He got pretty comfortable.
Could anyone blame him? If Kacchan started being mean, Izuku could tell him to go away.
And he would.
After a few months, he could see the changes. The boy in the mirror was more confident. More likely to smile without it wobbling. He laughed without flinching, joined in on conversations, and even went out of his way to make sure other people were comfortable joining in.
-
It was strange.
Izuku no longer feared getting bullied. Not even from Kacchan. He talked back now, and not just in a mutter.
The first few times he got sassy and Kacchan shoved him against a wall by the lapels, Izuku panicked.
The third time, he said “P-put me down!” and Kacchan had.
By the time Izuku relaxed into his newfound confidence, he did thinks like snark from across the room.
When the Baku’squad’ teased him about his early bedtime, Izuku confirmed that Kacchan had always gone to sleep that early, even when he was a little kid.
“At least I fucking sleep, you fluffy-haired insomniac.”
“Kiss my ass.” Izuku huffed, feeling proud and satisfied at his level of banter. His hands weren’t even sweating! He! Was! Confident!
Kacchan rolled his eyes and sauntered over.
For a moment, Izuku saw his life flash before his eyes. He wondered if Kacchan was going to start a fight.
He needn’t have worried-- at least, not about that.
Kacchan dropped fluidly to his knees, pulled aside Izuku’s waistband a scant centimeter, and placed an obnoxious, loud kiss to the skin there.
“Mwah.” He rose, just as seamlessly, and barked out a laugh. “Don’t dish it out if you can’t take the heat, loser. I play to win.”
“Dude.” Kaminari and Sero sputtered, laughing, and five minutes later Izuku finally unstuck his heels from the floor, eyes staring sightlessly.
-
Izuku spent three weeks staying up far too late at night, captivated by the possibilities.
Kiss my ass, he’d thrown out, and Kacchan had. The possibilities...
He broke out into a hot sweat just thinking about it.
He spent his days trying not to think about the implications, the ways he could use that, and barely made it to his room in time to get his uniform pants out of the way, hand sinking into his boxers to touch himself.
His head was full of the things he could do... he jerked off in bed thinking about it, in the shower, in the locker room after everyone had left. Daydream after daydream captivated his thoughts.
-
Izuku didn’t do anything untoward with his classmates. He didn’t order them to do anything sexual with him.
The little things he did allow captivated his thoughts.
“Don’t wear anything under your skirt tomorrow.” He’d shyly told Uraraka, as they did their math homework. He didn’t see anything, not really, but he spent the entire next day in a daze.
Every time he saw her he broke out into a fresh blush, unable to maintain eye contact. He had to go back to the dorm during lunch and rub one out, just so he could spare attention for class.
“Wear a pink bra tomorrow.” He told Yaomomo.
She did. He could barely see it through her uniform top, but she did. Once, the strap peaked out and Izuku lost five minutes of Present Mic’s lecture staring at it before she tucked it back under her collar.
It made him feel like the worst kind of pervert, even though he told himself he could be doing so much worse.
He tried to keep ‘so much worse’ in the harmless fantasies of his dorm room at night, and out of the waking world.
Still, a week of harmless commands like that-- even something so simple as picking out Mina’s outfit-- made him feel a little dirty, so he cut it out. No more messing with the girls!
And on that note.
“Don’t harass the girls anymore.” He hissed to Mineta that day. “Respect women. Don’t touch anyone appropriately.”
Mineta spent a week finding new ways to exercise his perversions before Izuku had a long-enough command chain in place to curb his... Mineta-ness.
After that, Izuku stuck with the guys in class.
Like always, he started with Kacchan.
-
Was he enacting eleven years worth of vengeance?
Perhaps.
-
“The next time you masturbate, do it thinking of me.” He told Kacchan more-or-less shamelessly. He told himself it was to get back at his childhood bully for years of childhood bullying.
Mostly he wanted to see what would happen.
Three days later, Kacchan glared every time he looked at Izuku, a faint pink flush rising to his cheeks.
It was an unexpected power trip. Just imagining Kacchan in bed, touching himself-- however he did it, if he didn’t jerk off-- and thinking of Izuku...
-
Izuku special ordered some interest items. Midnight was happy to help with the process. He didn’t even have to use his quirk.
-
One day in the locker room, Izuku dressed quickly and leaned back to watch everyone else.
People continued their business as usual, not noticing anything out of the ordinary.
Izuku wondered if it was possible to get a nosebleed in real life. Instead, heat seemed to be flooding between his legs, warm and insistent.
Kaminari and Kirishima struck up a conversation, idly complaining about the fit of their panties. Kaminari pulled a band away from his waist, snapping it back.
“It’s so thin, you know?” He rolled his eyes, smoothing out the electric blue material that fit him so snugly.
“But the material is so soft!” Kirishima’s were a soft white that cupped him gently around the front. Izuku thought maybe he’d gone too far. A few other people around the room were wearing frilly little panties, just because he told them to.
Had he gone too far?
It wasn’t anything sexual. He still wasn’t doing anything to them, right? He broke out into a sweat.
Shinsou’s were a silken black, hugging his buttocks in a “boy-short” cut, a fetching sable against his pale skin. His legs went on for days and he didn’t react at all beyond a slight shuffle.
Sero’s were a sexy red, accentuating his shapely thighs.
And Kacchan wore a pink pair with a little satin bow.
Izuku put his head against the locker and breathed.
He was, maybe, taking things a little too far.
-
Later that year, everyone got together.
Thank god. It was a good release valve for his constant suffering.
He was careful not to use any commands in the process of securing his datemates. He wanted it to be honest. Genuine.
Most of the time, he refrained from using the imperative at all with Ochako, Tenya, Shouto or Tsu.
The other couples and polycules formed around them.
He used his quirk less and less. Everyone in class was so open. So familiar with each other.
When Kaminari and Shinsou offered to let Izuku join them, it was in good faith; he gasped and moaned and laughed and everyone enjoyed themselves.
They weren’t the only two. Kirishima shyly asked him on a date, just to hang out and maybe fool around. It seemed like half the class was interested.
Everyone seemed to like him.
Izuku used his quirk sparingly and never for that. He didn’t have to. He was plenty persuasive enough on his own.
-
“Midoriya, stay after class.”
Aizawa’s voice cut through the room and Izuku sank into his seat a little, mind working overtime to figure out what was wrong. In the beginning, before he’d grown confident, he had been constantly worried about being found out.
Now they had their provisional licenses and he used his original quirk against villains more often than not. He was careful to do that sparingly too, lest someone figure it out and take away his biggest, most secret advantage, but little commands here and there came in stupidly handy.
No, when Aizawa told him to stay behind, Izuku didn’t worry about his quirks at all.
“Normally this duty would fall to Iida as class president but, unfortunately, it has come to my... attention...” Aizawa sighed heavily. “That you are the most...”
Izuku blinked up at him, lost.
“Look, kid, take the condoms.”
Izuku sputtered immediately.
“We know you’re all... active... and with recent threats you won’t be able to go to the corner stores for a few weeks. Please pass these out to your paramours and don’t let anyone get pregnant.”
The League of Villains had been increasing their activity lately, hence the heightened security, and Izuku wanted to bury himself in a hole and never look up.
“Why not Midnight-sensei?” He squeaked, eyeing the giant gift bag like it would bite him.
“Nemuri has a sick sense of humor.” Aizawa rubbed his forehead for a bit. “If there is a just and merciful god, you’ve all been using protection from the start.”
He glared at Izuku, as if to say you’d better have been.
“But better late than never.” He shoved the bag out. “I don’t want to hear or see anything when I check in on those dorms. Are we clear? This is not permission to be... indiscrete.”
“Stop talking now.” Izuku bit of the instinctual please that would make it begging rather than commanding. His cheeks were flushed and he couldn’t handle anymore.
Aizawa obediently stopped talking.
It wasn’t often that he used his quirk on the teachers, to be honest. He rarely used it at all nowadays, after his initial exploration. Always... strategically.
Back when he hadn’t been getting laid semi-regularly, it was always the most forbidden daydream. He was glad he’d never been alone with any teachers, because high on the discovery of his quirk and in the middle of the testing-phase... he might not have been able to resist.
Not that there would have been any consequences.
Izuku looked at the big bag of condoms and-- he peeked inside-- various lubricants and snapped his eyes away, blushing. He closed the bag.
He remembered the panty indulgence from so long ago.
“Aizawa-sensei...” He breathed, suddenly very aware of his lungs and how fast they were working. Blood rushed up to his cheeks. A dozen words hesitated on the tip of his tongue.
“Thanks!” He blurted and practically ran out the door. He didn’t stop until he cleared the dorm threshold and then his room. He put his back to his door and dropped the bag like a live explosive.
Oh, god. Now he had to pass them out.
Well. Anything was better than thinking of their teacher and sex in the same conversation.
-
Their last year of school came upon them. The League of Villains was defeated.
Izuku fucked Kacchan against the common room wall, the blonde’s fingers scrabbling for purchase and finding none, while all Kacchan’s datemates watched and moaned from the couches.
He felt like he was on top of the world.
He felt like he could do anything.
-
He could do anything, he realized.
As long as he phrased it just right.
-
Izuku had a few classroom fantasies he wanted to get out before he graduated. He kept to his policy of not using his quirk on the person he was... ‘paramouring’ with, to use Aizawa’s word.
He did, however, use his quirk on everyone else.
As in:
Izuku ordered everyone else to not pay attention, to not notice, as he pulled his pants down and jerked off right in the classroom. They saw what he was doing, knew what he was doing, and didn’t think anything odd about it.
A few people blushed but didn’t protest. Not even Iida!
He indulged with each of his datemates in turn during class, that partner alone clued in to what was going on-- if not the how of it-- and flushing and moaning through the intense reality of their very public not-audience.
He didn’t feel too bad having sex in front of all those people. After all, he’d had sex with most everyone in some combination or another. He was dating half of them.
The only allosexual person he hadn’t been with was their teacher.
Izuku glanced up and did a double-take at the intense eyes burning into him. He couldn’t get in trouble for not paying attention; he wasn’t going to get lectured.
The entire ruse wasn’t going to fall apart like dominos around him, because one of the very first things he’d done with his new-old quirk was tell Aizawa not to use his on Izuku.
Not under any circumstance.
That black gaze still raised all the hair on the back of his neck.
“Deku.” Ochako gasped, drawing him back to her, and he shuddered. Her cock filled him just right, thick and warm. It jutted out between her legs and fucked into him, her balls slapping against his thighs, and he got lost in the rhythm of it, the perfect silk of her skin as he hung onto her shoulders, kissed her neck.
-
Graduation loomed over them like a threat with no teeth. They were all too interconnected to fear not living in the dorms together.
Moreover, someone had pointed out how stupid that seperation was, and Yaomomo had been gifted a ‘manor house’ from her parent’s estate as a ‘starter home’. It had sixteen bedrooms.
The two ‘squads’ at least were committed to living there and contributing to all expenses with their various pooled salaries, though she informed them it was hardly necessary.
They all worked through their ‘school’ bucket lists, laughing as they had sleepovers and movie nights and did everything else they’d always wanted to do in the dorms.
Izuku did everything he’d fantasized about when he first discovered his quirk, shyly asking for the wildest of kinks instead of demanding him, and he was lucky enough in love that his datemates indulged him with only minimal teasing.
He crossed off every item from his ‘wish list’.
All but one.
-
They tumbled through the door of the classroom, five minutes late. Izuku had spent a whole childhood praying for a quirk, praying so hard he now had five (and counting), most of them quite useful, so it was nothing to groan into Aizawa’s mouth and pull him towards the desk, nothing to call over his shoulder--
“None of you find this questionable,”
-- amidst the whooping, wolf-whistles and Sero laughing, “Get it, Midoriya!”
He scooted up onto Aizawa’s desk as the man shoved against him, hard in his pants, teeth worrying meanly at Izuku’s neck.
His blood was on fire, he’d wanted this for so long.
“Oh, fuck. Oh god.” He breathed deliriously, pulling Aizawa in closer with a leg hooked around his waist.
“Off.” Aizawa yanked at his uniform trousers and Izuku didn’t think, lightning glancing his movements as he complied. Fuck it, he had spares in the back of the room.
“Underwear too?” He asked, wiggling a little bit. He may or may not have worn a cute pair of panties in honor of his first year adventures.
“No.” Aizawa said flatly. Izuku’s hopes rose and fell by turn, a constant rollercoaster undercut by delight-- anticipation made contemporary-- and he gasped with pleasure as the man merely pushed him down and began kissing across Izuku’s abs.
“Yesss.” He hissed as Aizawa tongued his navel and kept going. He nipped at Izuku’s clit over the cotton fabric and Izuku shuddered all over. Oh, god.
Aizawa ate pussy like a man on a mission. His mouth. Fuck. His stubble was waylaid by the protective fabric of Izuku’s panties, a literal over-the-top eating out, all pressure and heat without the scrape, and it was perfect.
Who on earth had he been doing this with!?
“You’re way too good at this.” Izuku groaned, more than a little breathless, thrusting up into his mouth.
Aizawa grabbed his hips and slammed them back onto the desk, looking up the line of Izuku’s body with a glare.
“Shut up.” He said roughly.
Izuku winced with lust. He was light-headed. Aizawa moved the panties aside and fucked his tongue into Izuku, without so much as a by-your-leave. It was work to keep his hips on the desk, to not rock into every thrust as he cried out, and Aizawa’s fingers were like twin brands.
He thrashed, eyes clenched tight to keep his quirk out of it, to keep the lightning under his skin and in his cunt, only, because super-strength was great but a real bitch if you wanted to be held down and eaten raw.
Izuku could only clench and sob around Aizawa’s tongue. Every few thrusts he would pull back and suck hotly at Izuku’s mound, tongue flicking in his hole and the base of it rubbing his clit again, and it was too good to be real.
The first time Izuku screamed, caught entirely off guard. His hands found Aizawa’s hair and tangled in it as he gasped in air, trying to recover. His pussy throbbed hotly against the man’s mouth.
How was it even better than he’d imagined!?
A small tug-- Aizawa’s fingers pressing into his panty-line, knuckles brushing his lips. He bunched up the fabric, fingers flexing a few times as he tested the give of it-- or maybe he was just tugging for fun?
His fingers crooked, the knuckles pressing against Izuku’s leaking hole. He tried to open his legs wider in engraved invitation.
“You’ve been flashing this in my classroom for months.” The man said, unamused, and Izuku’s heart beat fast in his chest. A rip, a tear, and Aizawa pulled the fabric right off him, baring him to the cold air of the room.
He pulled the remainder down Izuku’s leg and Izuku let him, dazed. It somehow ended with his leg over Aizawa’s shoulder as the man tugged the scrap of cotton over Izuku’s ankle, pausing to kiss said ankle, open-mouthed and hot.
His brain wasn’t working on all cylinders, obviously, but Izuku had been pretty confident that Aizawa-- his way now proverbially cleared-- would drop his mouth back to the task of devouring Izuku whole.
Wrong. Very wrong. When Aizawa didn’t lower his head, or even lean back down, Izuku rolled his ankle along the man’s shoulder and tilted his head back, blinking to clear his vision, little black dots of pleasure having grayed it out so shortly before.
Aizawa was not planning to finish what he started. Adrenaline leapt through Izuku’s veins, so electric he blinked to make sure One For All hadn’t gotten involved.
Pressure at his cunt. His calf, sliding along Aizawa’s shoulder as the man leaned forward, cock in his hand. He slid it along Izuku’s pussy with shameless intent.
Izuku could barely breathe.
“Fuck, I want that.” His opening fluttered against it, a constant internal clench and release that mirrored Izuku’s thighs, trying to draw the man in. He rubbed his cockhead cruelly around, from slit to clit.
“Good.” Aizawa snarled, eyes glinting even as he fought a smile, and Izuku had been dreaming about how to get this experience for literal years but “revenge fuck for flashing his pussy so often” had not even made the list.
What a failure of imagination.
He laughed, helpless and overwhelmed and so fucking here for this. Aizawa growled a little, precum leaking down onto the soft hair around Izuku’s outer lips.
Now that he had looked, he couldn’t look away. Izuku bit his lip, enraptured. Aizawa’s thick, angry cock glared at him, somehow looking furious. Like it had been long denied. It throbbed, more purple than red, and Izuku was getting light-headed just at the touch of it against his skin.
“Come on, please, let me watch you put it in.” He watched Aizawa paint his whole mound with dripping precome, smearing the head along flushed skin. It was such a perfect tease.
His pussy ached, so empty. He hadn’t been fingered for this, hadn’t had anything but a tongue, and while he was wet he knew the stretch would stretch, a half-pinch that screamed at how wide the man was, how perfectly fucking hung he was.
It was going to be flawless. He’d be feeling it for days. He deserved to feel it for days; finally, finally Aizawa was going to raw him on the desk...
“Problem child.” Their teacher groaned, forehead pressing into Izuku’s shoulder, and Izuku’s mouth fell into a pink ‘o’ as his cock finally pushed in.
First the wide round head, pushing past resistance so slowly, and then it popped past and got wider somehow. Izuku threw back his head, forced himself to divorce his thoughts from the mechanical and focus on the divine.
Pleasure rushed through him, at odds with the slow press; he was dizzy with it. Aizawa bit against his shoulder, sweaty forehead pulling back as his hips nudged Izuku’s legs apart, as his angle shifted to press up.
Aizawa’s thick cock drug against his g-spot and Izuku fell apart into a thousand, exultant pieces, galaxies expanding under his skin.
When he woke up, the initial push-pull had been well accomplished. Aizawa had graduated to a punishing rhythm that moved Izuku further up the desk with every thrust. He gasped in air, struggling with consciousness and all its realities, fingers scrabbling against the desk, barely able to keep his breath around the moans fucked out of his body.
“Dick so good you fucked me unconsicous.” He muttered, delirious and laughing.
Aizawa’s hand pushed down on his chest, grounding him as he tried to sit up. Sweat was resplendent on his chest and neck, long black hair loose and wild.
“Stay still, you little monster.” Aizawa huffed, not unamused. “I’m not done.”
He punctuated the sentence with a particularly rough, deep thrust and Izuku’s toes curled. He couldn’t imagine protesting.
The slap of Aizawa’s balls against his skin was the lewdest thing that had ever happened to him, pleasure from the intense fuck ratcheting all the way back up to ‘black out pleasure’ one wet, merciless slide at a time.
Izuku moaned shamelessly, biting his lip to contain the nutjob smile that threatened to erupt. It was amazing. It was euphoric.
It was everything he’d been hoping for as he jerked off in his dorm room, ‘sensei’ on his lips.
Aizawa’s free hand jerked to his clit and started rubbing meanly, well-lubricated from the general waterpark they were creating together, and Izuku didn’t so much have another orgasm as get launched into one.
He fought to stay awake, clawing onto consciousness with grit teeth and determination as his vision greyed out; he didn’t want to miss a minute of this, struggling to get the leverage he needed to thrust up, thrust back, working Aizawa’s monster of a cock in him, deeper in him.
When he could breathe around the pleasure carved into him he lurched up, surprising the man enough to get an arm around his shoulders, ass still on the desk-- his other arm, he threw out behind him, biceps and triceps flexing hard as he rode back on that cock for all it was worth, as well as he could in this position. His knee pressed into his tit, leg still over Aizawa’s-- well, his elbow at this point, having slipped down his arm--
“Brat.” Aizawa huffed, pressing even closer, deeper. His chest rubbed against Izuku’s, thin and lithe and shredded. Izuku pulled him down into a kiss and didn’t even care that it broke the rhythm, which stuttered and struggled.
Aizawa indulged him for two beats, then bit his lip in harsh reprimand, shoving him back down. Izuku tried to get a good position again, a position with leverage, but before he could Aizawa pulled out.
“No!” Izuku jerked, trying to pull him back. Aizawa slipped out of his hold, arms and legs both, and flipped Izuku in a delicious show of strength.
His belly hit the wood and the air whooshed out of him, more out of surprise than impact, and thin fingers pushed first his back and then his neck into the desk, sliding along his spine and leaving gooseflesh in its wake.
Aizawa’s free hand slapped his ass and Izuku had a moment, just one, where his eyes rolled into the back of his head. Then the man’s thick cock plunged into him from behind, without warning or mercy, and Izuku could only grip the edges of the desk, fuck back into his teacher’s huge thighs, and let the air be fucked out of his lungs over and over again as soon as he drew breath.
“Oh my god.” He slurred messily into the wood, delirious with it.
Aizawa held him down by the neck and fucked his cunt, wet and messy and raw. He felt somehow bigger from this position. The thrusts were powerful enough to ram the front of Izuku’s thighs into the side of the desk and then pull them back again, half his body moving along the surface.
“Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop.” Nonsense spilled out of his mouth, babbling and ceaseless. The thrusts got meaner and messier--
louder and deeper--
--until finally Aizawa groaned and covered his back like an animal, hooking his elbows through Izuku’s.
Back to chest he forced his cock deep, hips flexing but not pulling out, and with half a dozen sensual thrusts, he spilled hotly.
Literally hot. Izuku could feel it. Aizawa rode out his orgasm in mean little flexes that drove his cock deeper still, pushing his come inside, until eventually even those stilled.
Izuku sprawled boneless in the half-cuddle, Aizawa over him and holding him and, most importantly, still inside him.
He blinked. Aizawa’s cock twitched.
When his vision stabilized and his neck coopearted enough that he could look up again, he found the entire class swimming into focus.
A banner stretched across the top of the room, silver sparkles on the end of it as Jirou finished pulling it from Yaomomo’s ample cleavage.
CONGRATULATIONS ON THE DICK, it said, in big rainbow letters. Several people were offering him a thumbs up. A few broke out into applause.
“I knew you could do it.” Kaminari wiped a possibly-not-quite invisible tear from the corner of his eye. “I never doubted you for a minute!”
Aizawa buried his face into the back of Izuku’s neck and groaned.
“It wasn’t worth it.” He said, forehead damp with cooling sweat. His cock twitched again, starting to soften; Izuku clenched tight, trying to keep it right where it was.
“Wow, rude.” Izuku huffed, unsurprised to find his voice hoarse as gravel.
Jirou held up her phone and the little bug band from Dora the Explorer erupted into condescending congratulations, singing: “Lo hicimos! We did it!”
“Ugh.” Aizawa lifted his head to stare blearily at them. “Everybody out.”
Laughing, the class dispersed, though not without parting shots, each trying to out-clever one another. Class obviously cancelled, Izuku shuffled as a precursor to finding his feet, though he highly doubted he could walk.
Aizawa’s hands slipped from his arms to his hips, tightening with threat.
“Not you.” The man hissed, eyes narrowing. “You owe me.”
His fingers tightened on Izuku’s hips.
“Yes, sir.” Izuku agreed breathlessly, slumping back to the desk. His hips gave a tempting little shimmy and Aizawa slipped fully inside again, thrusting into the sloppy mess.
Izuku shivered.
“Fucking brat.” Aizawa groaned, picking up the pace. “You’re going to have detention every day making this up to me.”
“Yes, sir.” He repeated, eyes falling shut and mouth falling open on a sweet moan. His cunt clenched, oversensitive and needy, a perfect contradiction.
Aizawa stirred the mess inside, torturing them both until it became too much, and then slipped out and onto his knees.
“Stay still and be good for five minutes, if you can manage that much.” He said, annoyance lacing his tone like it wasn’t two octaves deeper with pleasure.
Izuku’s thighs trembled, anticipation lacing through him.
“Yes, sir.” He answered, voice high and breathy, one more time.
Aizawa spread his ass with both hands and bent to work.
-
Izuku wasn’t valedictorian, thank god.
They graduated one by one against all odds, walking across the stage and accepting diplomas to camera flashes.
He kissed each of his boyfriends and girlfriends and Kacchan for good measure, hugged his mother and All Might, and dipped out into the classroom one last time to pull Aizawa’s head between his legs.
-
It takes Izuku fifteen fucking years to discover his original quirk.
He spends the next fifteen years fucking and figuring out the intricacies of the other one, placed into his hands and veins by All Might himself.
And if anybody causes problems along the way?
He can tell them to go fuck themselves, and they will.