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Denki’s on the right side of lucky to be alive. See, Denki’s got this good luck charm he likes to call: his group of friends who are always there to catch him when he falls, or, the “Denki Protection Squad.”
Someone might think: “But Denki, aren’t you a totally capable pro hero in your own right?” And they’d be super correct, buuuuut, you know, sometimes he takes a little too much electricity to the dome and it’s really, really hard to be a “pro” in that state.
This is how he gets into the situation he is in now. He’d overdone it, he’s man enough to recognize that. There’d been this insanely huge monster-type villain made of mud (disgusting, he’d just gotten his hair done and now it’s all messy). Anyway, the thing somehow got its fist wrapped around him. Which, for an electric-type superhero is basically a wet dream.
Except, at that moment, he’d forgotten this thing called an “insulator.” Apparently, the composition of mud doesn’t have near enough water in it to y’know do the whole zap zap thing. So, he expels way, way too much energy in too short of a time. Which ends in him frying himself so badly that his body goes limp and he slips through the monster’s hand and freefalls a couple of nauseating stories.
Call this his Gwen Stacy and her Spiderman moment, but instead of going splat! he’s swept up by strong arms that hold him tenderly against an even stronger-feeling chest. Ropes of something that crackles wrap around his body comfortingly as they swing around to the top of the roof. It’s a strange feeling but feels particularly familiar so he just lets it happen.
He gets set down, his hearing is basically gone so he doesn’t know if this person says anything. He assumes they do, whoever it is. But they leave before his eyes can unfocus enough to see who his knight in shining spandex is. At least, he really hopes they’re wearing spandex, cause the guy (he assumes) felt realllyyy built and he’d definitely like a little eye candy when he comes to.
Speaking of, he goes and passes out on that cement, only reasonably certain that he’s out of harm's way. Oh well. Things usually work out for him, case in point, five minutes ago. So, he really isn’t worried at all.
It doesn’t end up being that long that he’s out anyway. He gets woken up probably a few minutes later by the most insane screaming he’s ever heard in his life. Like on some Godzilla-type shit. He assumes that means the mud bastard is dead.
He whoops and pumps a fist in the air. “Woohoo!” Score for the heroes. And he’d helped, possibly.
As he’s celebrating, he hears boots crunch on the cement around him and before he knows it, he’s at the business end of a worried, freckled face. No spandex, though, pity. Denki smiles in recognition anyway.
“Yo, Izuku! My dude, were you the one that saved me?” Denki exclaims, sitting up too fast and causing his head to rush.
Izuku frowns and bends down to rest a hand on his back. “Kami, can you be careful? You almost died I think,” Izuku huffs.
Not one to take anything seriously, Denki grips the top of Izuku’s hero suit, right on the chest, copping a very sneaky feel of his pecs as he cuddles into him.
“But you saved me! I’m alright thanks to you!” His hands snake up to tangle around his neck, Izuku looking particularly disturbed by the sudden contact. “How could I ever make it up to you?” Cue kissing noises and puckered lips that earn him a very serious look.
“Denki… how are you still so…” he trails off, shaking his head. “Can you walk?” Despite his words, he runs a warm, gloved hand up and down Denki’s back.
Denki considers it for a moment, a sudden idea in his head influencing his answer. “No, I definitely cannot, carry me please.” He then goes limp against Izuku’s hand, hanging onto his neck with faux lameness.
Another serious look and another moment passes by with Izuku seeming to consider their situation. Sighing, he picks Denki up like he weighs absolutely nothing. Which in turn does terrible, terrible things to Denki’s gut.
He’s not a slut (he totally is) but he’s pretty sure he wants to fuck this man. More aptly, he wants to get fucked by this man. Today. See, anyone with eyes could see how extremely hot he is; in fact, Denki’s always thought so. As they’ve gotten older, the man’s only gotten bigger and more sexy and it’s done heinous things to Denki’s self-respect.
The number of times he’d look at Izuku’s magazine covers and rode a toy til he came so hard he couldn’t see straight is… a lot. Course, he’s done that a lot with a few people that he’d always viewed as unattainable. But now… hmm. Maybe it’s the electricity still zinging through his brain but now he wants to test just how unattainable their number one hero actually is.
When Izuku takes out blackwhip and starts swinging them toward the pro-hero “dorm” building (where, as far as Denki knows, they both live) a creeping thought takes hold of his brain. It’s definitely bad, super bad. But, worst comes to worst, he can blame it on being fried.
He places a wet kiss on Izuku’s jawline without much ado. Sharp and jutting, he lets his lips linger there for just a moment before pulling back. Almost instantly, they’re hurtling toward the ground (again) and Denki screams his head off (again).
Izuku recovers after a moment, his heart pumping what has to be unhealthily fast. He squeezes Denki roughly, shooting a piercing green gaze at him.
“What the hell was that!” he shouts.
Really, Izuku isn’t making the whole “turned on” situation any better by squeezing him and yelling. Makes it much worse, actually.
Instead of replying, Denki purses his lips and shrugs, eyes lighting up mischievously. Then, the second that Izuku directs his attention back to their forward swinging, Denki does it again, and again. These ones aren’t so chaste, in fact, they’re downright messy. His tongue gets introduced to pale skin lightly coated and sweat and he’s like a feral animal.
The taste of him is insane—musky and slightly salty. The subsequent moan he lets out is really Izuku’s fault for tasting so good, everything else after that, he’ll take ownership for. Because… maybe Denki loses his mind for a moment and bites the damp skin just a little. And maybe when he’s sure there’s a mark there, he laves his tongue over the little indents to make sure it’s real nice and prominent.
“Denki!” Izuku gasps, though his hold only grows stronger, which eliminates the possibility of having another Gwen Stacy moment except with the splat part.
The blond sits back fractionally, admiring his work with hungry eyes. It’s a lovely pink and purple color that looks totally hot amidst the man’s flushing skin. God, he wants to give it a sibling. So he does, but his artistic process is cut short by Izuku landing heavily in front of their building.
He pulls Denki off of him, his mouth making a loud and distinct pop as his green eyes search his incredibly unguilty face. Denki stares back with a lewd smile while Izuku literally holds him an inch off the ground by his underarms like a misbehaving cat. To be honest, that’s pretty accurate.
“Give it back, you taste so good,” he pouts, scratching against strong arms that don’t even freaking shudder under Denki’s weight and hits.
“Why—What are you trying to do here?” Izuku sputters.
Denki’s slaps turn to gentle, seductive caresses (he hopes) and he reaches a foot out to slip between Izuku’s legs. Izuku’s attention flies down to it, watching as his boot hits home with little impact and applies pressure there gently at first. Then, a little harder when Izuku doesn’t immediately push him away.
“I think it’s obvious. You’re smart enough to figure it out, man. Let me know when you do so we can get this thing moving,” he teases confidently.
Izuku’s mouth opens and closes like a gasping fish for a few seconds, obviously fighting between the horny part of his brain and the part that has to reckon with the fact that Denki is fucking nuts. He’s super cute like that—a usually capable and strong man devolved into a confused puppy in a superhero’s body.
He throws him a bone because he’s benevolent like that. “I want to thank you for saving me, but mostly I just kinda want you to fuck me. So, what do you think?”
Izuku.exe has stopped working apparently because that makes him crash even further. Cool. Denki’s totally not getting some sick satisfaction out of breaking him so quickly. Nope.
Laughing lightly, he takes matters into his own hands, flinging himself forward and kissing him roughly. Too roughly, he’s pretty sure he just broke a tooth on Izuku’s, but something about the action gets Izuku’s brain back in the game.
He catches Denki under his ass, large hands wrapping around his thighs to pull them over his hips while he kisses him back just as fervently.
Fucking score. Denki allows himself to cheer for a second in his head before getting back to kissing, letting his tongue filter into Izuku’s mouth and roll against the man’s hotly. God, his mouth tastes even better than his skin. Minty and sweet, it quickly chips away at the very little self-discipline Denki has.
But altogether it doesn’t really matter because Izuku rushes them into the building, all the while his hands caressing him everywhere before finally landing on his ass which he squeezes roughly.
Denki fucking moans like he’s never been touched in his life. Honestly though? He’s pretty sure whatever is about to happen will be better than anything he’s ever had. So, like, he gets a pass, okay?
Anyway, Denki pulls back to view an intensely heated expression on Izuku’s face—blown-out eyes and reddened lips and cheeks. Adorable, hot, sexy. Denki smiles, and holds his jaw, tracing a thumb over his bottom lip.
“Please fuck me, please, I really, really want you,” he whispers very eloquently.
It gets the job done because Izuku swallows roughly and croaks: “Yeah, okay, I will,” and rockets them to his room.
***
As Denki realizes very swiftly, he’s out of his depths. Completely, utterly, ridiculously out of his depths. He first comes to this realization when they get undressed (read: rip each other’s clothes off) and Izuku reveals an immaculately toned chest, strong arms and legs, and a huge dick. Like, huge, huge, bigger than… shit… he won’t even compare it to anything he’s had before. That would be an insult.
It doesn’t end there because of course not. Izuku doesn’t even blink when he sees the scars under Denki’s pecs or the finely-trimmed pussy between his legs. He has the audacity to smirk and push him back on the bed, though, and… just wow.
Thus comes the final stage of just how fucked he is (literally); to put it simply, Izuku Midoriya is some kinda virtuoso when it comes to eating pussy. A magician, if you will.
He hikes one of Denki’s legs over his shoulder and effortlessly devours him. His tongue reaches places Denki doesn’t even think he’s ever been touched by another person. Look, he’s not in the business of having shitty sex, but he’d slept with a lot of people who expected a blow job and then just shove it inside.
Not that he really cares that much, he is a verifiable slut. But this, god, it makes him want to respect himself damnit! He deserves more than just some half-hearted fingering!
The worst (best) part is while Denki is moaning from each delicious movement of his tongue and fingers, Izuku is too. Rutting against his bedsheets too like he’s getting turned on from eating Denki out. He moans and groans, the vibrations from the noises shocking his clit lewdly.
It’s so unbelievably hot that Izuku doesn’t even put a third finger inside him—Denki cums within an inch of his life.
Heart palpitating, he scratches Izuku’s strong back, practically feeling the blood well up in their wake. “Fuck, fuck, you’re so good, baby—ngh—oh my god!” he shouts.
Izuku’s tongue strokes him lazily through his thundering orgasm, gentle touches that don’t get him feeling all twitchy and weird. He even slows the movements of his fingers. His pussy clenches around them but he pays them absolutely no mind as he caresses the walls softly.
Even when Denki’s body eventually calms and he becomes lucid, Izuku doesn’t stop his movements until Denki whines. He tugs at Izuku’s other hand that’d been teasing his nipples, trying his best to communicate that he wants Izuku to come up.
Remarkably, he somehow understands his lackluster communications; he extricates himself from Denki’s pussy and kisses up his belly, a small smile on his lips.
“Fuck, dude, if I woulda known you were so good at eating pussy, I woulda begged to sit on your face a long time ago,” he shudders. His fingers dig into Izuku’s curls, impatiently tugging him up so their lips are inches apart.
Izuku raises an eyebrow. “You would’ve begged for it? I wouldn’t have given in so quickly had I known that,” he teases, inching ever closer. “Maybe next time.”
Their lips seal together moments later, the zingy taste of his juices still present on Izuku’s tongue. Not only that but the promise of next time? Shit.
Combining those two things, the taste of himself and the promise of more, drives him feral in an instant. Suddenly, Izuku isn’t close enough, not touching him near enough to quell the overabundance of electricity coursing through him.
He whines into Izuku’s mouth, Izuku swallowing the noises dutifully while Denki wraps his legs around him and starts rutting wildly. They aren’t teenagers anymore, this sort’ve behavior from him should be embarrassing—it isn’t, but only because Izuku guides him along, joining in on the reckless rutting.
His hips make it slower, teasing the fire circulating his tingling core. It’s mind-bogglingly delicious and he isn’t even inside him yet. That’s a problem, though. Denki’s pretty sure he’ll die if he doesn’t fuck him soon.
They part so Denki can say just that, Izuku brazenly kissing down his neck and giving him marks exactly where Denki had left some on him.
“You don’t like a little anticipation?” Izuku murmurs between biting and sucking. “A little teasing, get your pussy all nice and drenched before I fuck it?”
As far as dirty talks goes, it’s a solid eight out of ten—yet at the moment it’s so hot that it doesn’t even make sense to his brain. Izuku Midoriya who he swore was a goody two shoes just said he wants to tease Denki and then fuck his pussy.
If he was a religious man, Denki might’ve dropped into prayer right there. As it stands, he’s the furthest thing from religious and he still really, really needs Izuku inside him.
“If you don’t fuck me like yesterday, I swear I’ll cry. Then you’ll have to deal with me being horny and sad and that’s not a combination I think you want,” he cries, still rutting his hips against Izuku, not at all embarrassed by the slick slide of his pussy.
Izuku leans back with a sigh, green eyes full of heat. “Fine, but if we do this again, it’ll be how I wanna do it.”
He really needs to stop saying that, it’s doing horrible things to him. “You’re the boss, I promise just—please!”
Izuku nods and descends on him once more.
***
It’s already been established that Denki isn’t a religious man, okay. But the moment Izuku flips him over so he’s on his knees and then teases his pussy with the head of his cock… Denki feels like he’s been delivered straight to the pearly gates.
He rolls it from clit to hole, back and forth for only a few seconds. After, when Denki is sure he’ll explode, Izuku presses the slick head in. Just enough that his pussy starts clenching and pulsing around it, practically begging to be filled with even more.
“Jeez, even your pussy is greedy, huh?” Izuku teases, leaning down to shadow Denki’s back and brace his arms on either side of his head. That movement pushes him further inside Denki who wiggles his hips backward, insistent on gaining just a few more delectable inches.
“C’mon, don’t you want to fuck me? Doesn’t it feel good?” Denki whines, fisting his hands in the sheets.
Izuku presses a kiss to Denki’s shoulder, soon followed up by teeth. “You have no idea,” he says before slamming home.
And no, what he’d seen earlier had been nothing but a farce, a trick of his mind. Now he is delivered to heaven with an express ticket. Every inch of Izuku’s cock has a throbbing vein that catches divinely on his walls. And he feels so, so full.
“F-Fuck,” he stutters, gripping the sheets even harder as Izuku rolls out to the hip and then slams back in. For how delicately he’d treated his pussy earlier, he’s being incredibly rough now. Which he likes, a lot.
“Feels good? Do you like it?” he murmurs while kicking up the pace, their skin slapping lewdly. “You feel so good, who knew you had such a little treasure between your legs? I always told everyone to knock it off when they’d talk about how you were in bed.”
Denki moans loudly, arching his back, changing the angle only slightly. That subtle shift is enough to make it so the head of Izuku’s cock brushes that tiny little spot inside him.
He screams, trying to muster up a thought to reply to what he’s said. He manages, but only barely.
“Ngh—did you ever—ah, right there… fucking—did you ever want to come see what if all of it was true?” he moans.
Izuku chuckles and sits back, pushing in on Denki’s spine so only his ass is in the air. Then, he grabs his hips in a bruising grip, grinding into that spot with sudden attention.
“That’s what I’m doing right now,” he grunts, driving home again and again. “Can’t say I’m disappointed.”
All in all, Denki isn’t strong enough to last very much longer after that. Even he has his limits, though he doesn’t know he does until he comes so hard that he sees literal stars run across his vision.
Izuku fucks him through it just like earlier, but he doesn’t stop, not when Denki reaches back and grabs a handful of meaty thigh. Not when Denki cries and whines and wriggles under him. Not even when he runs from the thrusts.
The man is probably the devil disguised as an angel. He fucks him right into overstimulation land, then they skip through that for a moment before his body decides he can actually cum a third time.
Only when Denki’s body is trembling and he’s breathing all heavy and unable to form words to answer his questions does he relent. But even then, Denki suspects it’s because he’s close to finishing. His hips slow down but they also start to stutter and then he pulls out all together.
Through stuffy ears, Denki hears the slick sounds of the man jerking off and then he feels the wet heat of cum painting the entirety of his back. It splashes him for, honestly, an impressive amount of time while Izuku moans vocally.
Denki thinks that he’ll actually never want to fuck another quiet top—Izuku has ruined that for him forever. He wants to say a biting thanks but Izuku falls like a tree next to him on the bed, making his limp body bounce.
The man lets out a breath and turns to look at Denki, rough fingers pushing hair out of his face like he’d just made love to him instead of fucked him to the brink of death.
“Hi,” he says, those fingers charting a path into his hair and lightly massaging his scalp.
“What? No aftercare? There’s cum cooling on my back, you know. I’ll have to give you only four stars for this treatment,” Denki mumbles half-heartedly.
Really, he couldn’t give a fuck less about the cum nor anything else, he’s too exhausted. It amuses him when Izuku’s eyes bug out of his head and he says a quick apology before running on shaky legs to what Denki assumes is the bathroom.
As he lay there sometime later, Izuku cleaning his back with focused attention, Denki considers a lot of things. Mainly, if Izuku will fuck him again after he’s recuperated.
But also if there will ever be a time when his luck will run out. Cause, like, when he was hurtling to the ground earlier, on his way to be a very tragic news headline, he was fully thinking he was gonna die. And now, he’s laying in bed still tingling with aftershocks while Japan’s number one hero washes him.
He sure hopes it never runs out, to be honest. A guy could really get used to treatment like this.