Work Text:
He stares at the man across from him as if from underwater.
“I think you’re underestimating the value I could bring to negotiations.” Izuku says, but his voice sounds far away to his own ears.
You don’t deserve All Might’s quirk, rings heavy in his ears. Especially not when your original quirk means you won’t be noticed as a hero.
You don’t deserve All Might’s quirk.
Did this jumped up sidekick really say that to him?
“Unfortunately, negotiations aren’t the bread and butter of a heroics organization.” Nighteye pushes up his glasses. “I know I myself have a non-physical quirk, but the fact remains that your… talents… really don’t offer anything to my agency.”
Izuku could talk him around in five minutes.
He could do it subtly. He could steadily rework the man’s arguments until he’s eating out of Izuku’s hand.
He's done it before.
Instead, he feels for the insubstantial edges of his aura and reaches deep for the green lightning of the quirk he doesn’t deserve. Energy rushes through him, not subtle at all; an addicting contrast to the quiet quirk he was born with.
He weaves One for All through his aura, taking a deep breath and expanding on the exhale. Don’t Worry About It punches out in all directions, exploding through walls and ceilings in a great rush. No one will pay any concern to anything they notice from this direction; not sights, sounds or any other sense.
Nighteye jerks back, getting the full effect of it to the face.
He blinks harshly, seemingly unaware of the source for the weird feeling.
Izuku starts unbuttoning his pants.
“What are you doing?” Nighteye asks with great suspicion.
“Nothing for you to worry about.” Izuku sneers. The blonde scowls at him.
What is it with asshole blonde’s in Izuku’s life? It’s like All Might took all the goodness allocated to everyone with the hair color. Nighteye’s not even a good-looking blonde, the yellow more sickly-green tinted than anything, like cheap fake gold.
“Well, we’re done here.” Nighteye shuffles the papers on his desk. “I won’t have you at my agency. You can see yourself out.”
“Nah.” Izuku climbs up on the desk. He usually has such a deft hand with this; it’s a little exciting to not try at all, to brute force his way through it. What would have taken severe effort on his own is made laughably easy with an enhancer quirk.
“Oh, Toshinori just had to choose the most stubborn brat possible.” Nighteye sneered to himself. “What do you want?”
Izuku shuffled forward on his knees, letting his pants fall down his thighs. He could ape those Japanese porn vids, like he had when he was just starting out, terrified he’d get caught if he did anything complicated—just slip in with Notice Me Not on loud and fuck someone who didn’t even acknowledge him, who just continued about their day.
However, Izuku had realized pretty fucking early on that he found that intolerable.
He’d wanted acknowledgement for as long as he could remember, after all.
I am here, he’d thought, desperately. Please, I’m right here. I can be a hero. I matter.
So no, he didn’t do that. He settled his hand on top of the man’s ridiculous hair and ignored his tetchy glare.
“Take my junk out of my boxers.” He orders, settling his other hand on the man’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about whatever reasons you have not to. There’s no point. Maybe I’ll go away faster if you give me what I want.”
Looking mulish, Nighteye raises his finicky little fingers, all thin-boned and fine, and tugs at the buttons on his boxers until he can deftly pull out Izuku’s soft cock and balls.
“Disgusting.” Nighteye scoffs, eyeing them with his nose scrunched up. Izuku’s resolve hardens to iron.
“Oh, yeah.” He says out loud. “I’m going to have fun with this.”
Before Nighteye can say anything else, Izuku pushes down on his head pointedly. Even on his knees on the desk, Nighteye’s head is higher up than he wants it. Guess he’ll just have to hunch over, then.
“I think I’m allergic to douchebags.” He says. “I got a little feverish just dealing with you. Look, I worked up a sweat.” He increases the weight of his hand until Nighteye does duck his head, putting him more or less eye-level with Izuku’s crotch.
"Why don't you lick my balls clean, Sir?"
"Absolutely not." The man sputters, shocked and offended. "I would never--!"
Izuku tangles his fingers in the man’s hair, forcing him down. He goes, lips stopping a few inches shy of his new task.
“You can’t afford to worry about your petty reservations. I’m a student under your care. You have to send me back to UA in the same condition you received me in, and I wasn’t dealing with ball sweat when I walked in here.”
“Be that as it may…” Nighteye flushes an adorable pink. Izuku doesn’t let him go anywhere.
“Look, it’s a simple task. Nothing a hero of your caliber should have any trouble with. Unless you think you can’t do it properly?”
“Insufferable.” Nighteye mutters, dropping his eyes. “So disrespectful.”
“Respect my sac in your mouth,” Izuku counters, just to be vulgar. He can show the man disrespectful!
Nighteye shoots him an unimpressed glare, then sighs. He bends forward and hesitates. His breath fans out over the pink skin of Izuku’s balls.
Izuku is just considering what other disrespectful things he can say when the man slowly licks one testicle into his sharp little mouth.
“Mm.” Izuku tilts his head back, closing his eyes at the sensation. His crotch is arched forward, the rest of him fully dressed and leaning away; it makes the gentle sucking on his nut look even more obscene. Nighteye laps at the wrinkled skin until he can reasonably say he’s covered it all, then releases it and moves on to the other one.
He starts sucking, pausing briefly to lave his tongue around, and Izuku encourages him ever-so-slightly with the grip on his hair. He can already feel himself starting to chub up a bit from the ministrations.
Too soon, Nighteye pulls back to glare from under his pale lashes.
“There. Now you’re all clean.” He makes a face like he’s trying to get the taste out of his mouth.
“If that’s what you call a job well done, then I’m not sure I want to join your agency.”
The man glares harder and Izuku snorts, guiding him close again by the hair. Something about the image, or maybe the resignation on his face, gives Izuku’s heart a little jump. Maybe it’s the control he has of the man’s head, as he personally pulls his lips back to Izuku’s damp balls.
“Try to get both in at once.” He instructs breathlessly. “You’re supposed to be a Pro Hero, for fuck’s sake.”
Nighteye opens his mouth and presses his tongue to the scrotal raphe, that little seam separating his balls, licking at both of them. Izuku proffers his hips a bit, pressing them closer; he rubs them over Nighteye’s soft lips.
His slowly stiffening cock pokes at the man’s nose, butting up against his cheek.
“Go on, suck.”
And carefully, Nighteye does fit first one testicle into his mouth, rolling it around to get comfortable, and then the other. His jaw visibly strains to make it happen. Izuku curses a little under his breath; it shouldn’t be so hot, this Pro Hero’s cheeks stuffed wide like this, struggling not to drool around the mouthful. His lips can’t quite close all the way.
Izuku slips his hand around to the back of Nighteye’s head, drawing him closer, rubbing his face all in Izuku’s crotch.
”Suck.” He commands, and Nighteye slowly does. It’s embarrassing. Izuku is embarrassed for him. He doesn’t have the space to suck properly, so it’s really more of a series of half-suckling attempts, and his tongue flicks uselessly against the round undersides.
God, but Izuku enjoys feeling him try, though. He keeps at it for much longer than he should, ‘you won’t be noticed as a hero’ ringing in his ears every time he thinks about having some mercy. Very, very quickly the man is red-faced with drool running down his chin, wincing when the wet head of Izuku’s cock butts nearly against his eye, and steadily moving his head up and down as though to compensate for his inability to suck on Izuku’s sac properly.
He’s not moaning, obviously, but the little grunts and loud breaths as he tries to work his mouth on them and breathe at the same time is just as thrilling.
Finally, Izuku eases Nighteye’s head off his balls. The man pulls off and immediately starts gasping for air. It’s possible Izuku might have flexed his quirk every time he felt the man was ready to give up, or wanted to pull off to breathe.
Don’t worry about it, you can go a little longer. Little pulses of power disabusing him of any notion that he should stop, swatting the intrusive thoughts like flies.
“Well, that was pathetic.” He says, callously disappointed. The cool air hits his sac and he doesn’t wince. Nighteye’s glasses are askew; his whole face is wet, lips bothered red and shiny, and his eyes have watered somewhere in there.
“I’ll give you another chance.” Izuku decides, fully appreciative of the irony of the words. Yeah, he'll let Nighteye prove himself to Izuku. How magnanimous of him.
Nighteye attempts to speak, chokes, and returns to getting his breath back.
Izuku graciously allows him to more or less recover before he puts both hands on the man’s head, adjusting until his thick cock nudges clumsily against his spit-slick mouth. Nighteye tries to say something, eyes widening.
Izuku slides his cock, oh-so-slow and steady, down his throat.
“Mmph!” The hero protests, hands flailing on either side of Izuku’s hips but not quite touching anywhere. They land on his thighs and Izuku rocks his hips back leisurely before sliding back down. Nighteye’s tongue is so slick for it, so good to glide right along to the back of his throat.
On the next pull, he makes sure to drag the heavy head along it; give him a taste.
He first drags back an inch, and pushes back in. Then two, then three, and so on. When Izuku finally pulls all the way out, he jerks forward with his first real thrust—now that he knows the man can take it. Of course, he still gags a little bit, and Izuku finds himself doubling over a bit, moaning for the way his spasming throat muscles feel fluttering around his cock.
“Again.” He gasps, dragging his cock out and snapping his hips forward roughly, just to feel that initial quiver as his gag reflex reacts. He keeps that up just because he can, only belatedly—and with some regret—pulling back to shallower thrusts so Nighteye can suck in air through his nose.
He won’t be leaving the slick heat of the man’s mouth, of course, but he politely fills up his palate with grinding, little thrusts, instead of fucking his throat raw. His balls thwap gently on the man’s chin.
Nighteye, not an absolute moron, takes the opportunity. He inhales roughly through his nose, still struggling around his mouthful, and does it a few more times before his lungs let him rest.
Izuku looks down at the man, eyes closing as he composes himself, getting his breathing under control. He readjusts his grip around Nighteye’s ears and slowly feeds the man his cock, again, thrilling in the muffled little sound he makes.
Izuku’s cock bumps against the back of his throat. Nighteye groans around it, eyes closed tight. A little saliva slips out of the corner of his lips, stretched wide around his girth. Red has risen high in his cheeks.
It takes just a little nudge for him to bottom out completely, those bright red lips touching the hair at the base of his cock. He struggles to breathe in through his nose with Izuku settled so deep in his throat, nostrils flaring, throat working spastically.
“Huh.” Izuku laughs a little. “You’re not very good at this, are you?”
Nighteye’s mouth moves, but of course he can’t talk. He does open his eyes to glare weakly, eyes basically glazed over at this point. Izuku wants to grab him by the ears and use his face like a hole to fuck into, but—
No, wait.
That’s right.
He has no reason not to.
“Well if you’re not going to at least try to suck me,” He laughs, and starts facefucking him.
Izuku grabs Nighteye by the ears—or the hair beside his ears, or the sides of his head, what fucking difference does it make?—and really puts his back into it. He sets up a satisfying enough rhythm, thrusting at a decent speed, but regularly enough that Nighteye can—if he’s quick, and if he works for it— gulp in a breath between strokes.
He has to catch Izuku’s rhythm to do it, though, and his inexperience shows.
“Tut, tut.” Izuku snickers, tapping the man’s full cheek. “Why was I bothering to impress someone who clearly doesn’t know what he’s doing?”
Nighteye can’t look at him, now, though; he’s too busy struggling to breathe, struggling to work his jaw around Izuku’s width, struggling to think while the student fucks his facehole.
“I’ll make you a deal.” Izuku offers, humming as he slows down a little, rubbing his cock on Nighteye’s soft palate. He takes himself in hand, pulling all the way out, until his dick is presented in all its glory right in front of Nighteye’s wrecked face. The man has spit and precome running down his chin, snot out of his nose, and tears down his face from not being able to breathe well enough.
He waits until Nighteye sits back to look at him properly, somehow still trying to get his lungs under control, before he elaborates. In the meantime he pulls out his phone and sets a timer.
“If you suck me off—properly, mind, without me doing all the work—and make me come within... hmm, three minutes, then I won’t tell All Might you made fun of his successor, disparaged my character, and told me I couldn’t be a hero.”
He pauses, thinking about it.
“Oh. And I guess I won’t fuck you raw over your desk for being a giant fucking dick, either.”
He doesn’t wait for a response, simply grabs Nighteye by the crown of his head and pulls him down, starting the timer. Then he lets go, all hands off, and watches Nighteye blush hard. To his credit, the man only hesitates a moment.
He pulls off slowly, like he’s thinking about it. Then he opens his mouth and tentatively lets Izuku’s glans touch his tongue. It’s almost cute, watching him fumble through this. The man shies back, gulps, and squeezes his eyes shut as he properly slips Izuku into his mouth.
He barely makes it halfway, tongue awkwardly doing nothing, and Izuku has to stifle his rude laughter. Nighteye’s nose wrinkles, so he must not have been too successful. The man shoots him a quick glare before closing his eyes again and sucking.
“Mm.” Izuku moans, encouraging, and pets his hair. It’s not much, hardly anything really, but there’s something thrilling about the man suckling at him, clearly unskilled, of his own free will.
He gives into the urge to rock his hips, barely a centimeter, and that feels lovely. In a quaint little way. Not good enough to come, or even build up to an orgasm, but the suckling feels nice.
He widens his stance a little, feeling his balls dangle. It sparks an idea.
“Why don’t you play with my nuts a little?” He asks kindly. “You’ve only got ninety seconds left.”
Nighteye redoubles his efforts, bobbing his head up and down a little faster. He makes it about three fourths of the way down before he has to stop, choking a little, but he eases off and presses through. He even tries to get his tongue involved and—yes—reaches up to start fondling Izuku’s balls, heavy in his hands.
It’s times like these when he’s really happy he’s hung, with a proportional nutsack.
Izuku smooths the main’s ruffled fringe back from his forehead, enjoying the crease between his eyes, the color in his face, the way his cheeks hollow out as he really dedicates himself to the task.
Of course, three minutes isn’t nearly enough time. Not when it’s amateur against seasoned professional.
The timer goes off and Izuku sighs, like he’s disappointed. He gently pulls Nighteye off of him.
“Better luck next time.” He says, consolidating, and hops off the desk. It doesn’t take much to get Nighteye from sitting in his chair to leaning over it, and Izuku unfastens the man’s pants with the ease of long practice.
When he pulls down the man’s boxers, he’s surprised to see a quivering pink slit where he expects a cock.
But not surprised enough to change his plans.
He does, however, take a few minutes to fuck in and out of that pink hole, as a bit of a side quest. He never can resist a good-looking cunt. However, this guy had ruined his chance for an easy fuck when he opened his mouth about All Might’s—about Izuku’s—quirk.
He pushes Nighteye’s head onto the papers, cheek sideways on the desk, and drizzles some lube from his pocket onto his cock, just to be nice. Then he does as he intended and pushes the blunt, rounded head of his cock against the man’s asshole.
Nighteye yells, hoarse and shocked, into his desk.
“God, you’re so fucking tight.” Izuku says, pleased. He adds some more lube. The push is easier. Barely. His head looks huge next to the tiny hole, an impossibly large pressure. It looks like it can’t possibly yield, but of course it does, and Izuku slowly works the man open with his cock.
He uses the entire little bottle of lube, he’s not cruel, and no one is injured—especially when he uses his quirk to make the man stop worrying about this, too, so he can relax properly around Izuku’s fat cock splitting him open—but he is absolutely red all over and trembling by the time Izuku bottoms out.
His pussy is positively dripping, leaking on the man’s leg and desk, and Izuku reaches down to rub his clit so he can feel the man clench and flutter around him, and also because the noises Nighteye makes will never not be satisfying.
He pulls out and lets Nighteye’s asshole twitch and shrink down a size before nudging back in, slowly easing down until his hips are flush. Then he pulls out again, and again watches the hole tighten up a bit. He goes in at an angle, tugging up at the upper diameter. Then he repeats the process in all the cardinal directions, using his dick to gape the man’s asshole until it stays open for a bit longer each time.
It’s thrilling to watch, of course, and thrilling to push anew into the re-tightened channel each time, instead of a hole that has molded itself to his girth. And it is incredibly satisfying to watch the way his asshole stretches wide each time, holding his shape until it almost looks like a real cunt. If Izuku had all day he’d introduce bigger and bigger toys until Nighteye had two eager pussies, capable of taking a cock with no prep and no discomfort.
So he’d know, without a doubt, what he’s good for.
He’s good enough to lean forward so that each thrust drags the top half of his pussy, and therefore his clit, against the top of the desk. See, he can be nice. Kind, even!
Finally, though, Izuku’s interest wanes and he stops trying to gape the man, instead pulling out one final time and leaning down to drool over the man’s hole. It twitches hard when the saliva hits, still pulled wide from Izuku’s ‘training’, and most of it even goes in; the rest slides down to his pink pussy and the man’s whole back shakes at the feeling. What? Izuku used up all the lube earlier.
If you don’t want people to spit in your gaped asshole, don’t be rude to strangers. You never know what quirk someone might have or how useful it can really be. Or how they might take offense to your words.
Actions have consequences, you know.
Izuku lets spit drip down until he gets impatient, and then gets what he came for; he stops paying attention to the man under him and just fucks with abandon, chasing his own pleasure until he’s right at the peak.
There’s something maddening about fucking someone with a pussy in the ass, about seeing it right there, wet and welcoming. At knowing the person is probably clenching their cunt, feeling so empty and desperate even when he’s filling them up another way. At giving someone the naughty, stretching burn of anal when the sweeter, softer ride is beckoning.
It’s an unexpected treat he hadn’t thought about today and it makes him feel a bit magnanimous.
After he’s finished losing himself in the hot clench of the man’s absurdly tight asshole, he wipes off thoroughly with a wet wipe—look at him, being all considerate! A pat on the back—and slides with a sigh into that wet, begging pussy.
Nighteye yells out a moan, fingers gripping hard on the opposite edge of the desk at this point, and Izuku reaches down to hold his asshole open with his thumb, even as it tries to fitfully close. He doesn’t move at first, letting the hot cunt twitch and quiver around him, warming him, while he plays with the man’s asshole.
He wishes he had a toy with him, just to push it in and take it out and watch the hole gape again, like it did when Izuku first pulled out of him. He settles for grabbing that stamp off the desk and sliding it in hilt first, a little plug. Nighteye jumps against him.
The little symbol he stamps paperwork with sticks out of his ass, like a tail, still red with ink.
His cunt is silky soft, dripping wet from all the anal, and squeezes around Izuku like a loving vice, though of course its nowhere near as tight as the man’s ass.
He glances at the clock. He’s already spent longer here than he planned, though of course nobody will give him hell for it; they won’t even be able to be concerned about it, once he explains what he was doing. Or once he explains anything at all.
See how useful and amazing his quirk is?
He fucks quick and a little rough into Nighteye’s vagina—pussies can take more pounding than an asshole, a lot of the time; they’re less delicate overall, in Izuku’s humble experience, less risk of unfortunate things happening when you’re a little mean to them—holding onto his hips.
His cock is thick and the hole is so small; it feels like every thrusts parts it wide around him, like he’s stretching the little cavity out. It shouldn’t be so exciting, probably, but Nighteye talks so cocky and now he’s got Izuku fucking into him with his unworthy cock, and the man’s abused little pussy is going to feel sore for the--heh-- foreseeable future because Izuku bent him over his desk and Izuku used him like a public gloryhole, free for the taking.
“All your holes are going to feel this tomorrow.” He promises, remembering the throat-fucking, too. “You’re not going to be able to speak or take a step without feeling me in you, and you’re going to be annoyed that you were outplayed, but ultimately not fucking worry about it. You got what you deserved, after all.”
He comes with a low grunt, spilling inside the man—he hopes Nighteye uses some form of birth control, but that’s not his problem—and pulling out to watch the last ropes land across his ass, the outside of his lips, his thighs and his back. It painted his jacket—whoops.
Izuku grins. He fucked the man and came all over him, leaving him dripping and bent over his own desk. He grabs the stamp without bothering to be gentle about it, enjoying Nighteye’s little gasp, and ekes out a miraculously clean piece of paper from under the man’s chest.
He stamps it, Nighteye’s approval staring back at him in bright red ink, and wipes the handle with a new wet wipe. Then he swipes up a big glob of come, fingers it into Nighteye’s pussy, and slides the stamp in after it.
“Don’t worry about taking that out again.” He instructs, as he fixes his pants; he leaves Nighteye right where he is, all disheveled and debauched and covered in come. “I want you to feel me dripping out of you all day. I want you to feel full of my come and remember exactly what happened. Feel free to be embarrassed about it, even ashamed, but be ashamed that you lost and that I’m better than you. Don’t worry about telling anyone, or retaliating in any way. Oh, and Nighteye?”
He takes his approved paperwork to file with the front desk, winking at the man who is so dazed he can barely track Izuku with his eyes.
“See you Monday.”