Work Text:
Izuku loves teaching.
Sure, it’s certainly not the job for everyone. The pay is terrible, schools are understaffed, he’s often overworked, and every generation of kids he teaches are more powerful than the rest — Quirk Singularity Theory is a bitch — but he supposes that every job has its downsides. And, in Izuku’s opinion, the upsides far outweigh the downsides.
He gets to teach the next generation. He gets to help them grow and learn and change as people, and he gets to watch them become all these amazing things that he could only ever dream of being. He gets to be the teacher that he wishes he’d had as a quirkless child trying to navigate a world that didn’t want him. He’s underpaid and he’s overworked and he’s occasionally injured by a quirk misfire, but he gets to be there. He gets to be Midoriya-sensei. He gets to know all these intelligent, kind children—
“WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO THE DESKS?!”
Izuku’s pleased thoughts on his career are chased away by a loud, brash voice and the heat of an explosion blasting one of the desks into the wall. The dull slam it makes as it clatters to the floor makes Izuku flinch.
Katsuki is… an opinionated boy. Intelligent and a hard-worker, yes, but also loud and verbally aggressive and far too trigger-happy when it comes to his quirk. He can be sweet, though, Izuku knows he can be sweet! Katsuki’s the son of a close family friend, after all. He may put on a tough-guy act, but Izuku still remembers the sweet little boy he used to babysit as a teenager.
“They’ve been moved, Kacchan,” the cutesy nickname leaves Izuku’s mouth without a second thought. It’s unprofessional, certainly, but Katsuki kicks-up more of a fuss than usual if Izuku calls him anything else. He despises change, evident in the way he’s sneering at the desks with something akin to utter disgust. “I thought it would be fun to change the room up a bit, so everyone can have the chance to sit next to new people—”
Katsuki stomps up to Izuku’s desk, glaring up at him, lower-lip jutting out. “Well that’s fuckin’ stupid and I hate it. I don’t wanna make friends with these shitty extras, change ‘em back!”
Izuku swallows a sigh, instead smiling at the pouting blonde. “Then you can sit up front with me. Bring a desk over,”
Most students despise being singled-out and made to sit next to the teacher, in front of all their peers. Izuku doesn’t particularly like using embarrassment as a punishment, but sometimes needs must, and it’s the only thing that can calm a rowdy student who’s looking for attention from the class. But, Katsuki is not like other students — and Izuku knows that, he does. He simply assumed that the threat of being separated and paired with the ‘uncool sensei’ who proudly wears an All-Might tie might calm his fiery attitude and soften him up to the idea of making new friends. Izuku has assumed wrong.
Instead, Katsuki looks beyond smug as he grabs one of the small desks and drags it up front, flush against Izuku’s desk. He sits in his seat, kicking his feet up on the desk as he flashes a snarling grin at his classmates.
…He thinks he’s in a position of power.
Izuku shouldn’t be surprised. Even as a child, Katsuki had a rather high opinion of himself, something he’s carried into his teenage years. Izuku should’ve realised that seating Katsuki at the front of the classroom, next to him, would be less a punishment and more an ego-boost. He can’t exactly change his mind now, though, so it looks like Izuku will just have to keep an eye on Katsuki throughout class, to make sure he’s behaving himself. And if he’s not? Well, he might be boring old Midoriya-sensei, but he certainly has some dirty tricks up his sleeve. As a precaution, Izuku deploys one of his dirty tricks right now.
He rolls the sleeves of his shirt up his toned forearms, tucking away a smirk when Katsuki visibly falters, his smug smile falling away as he stares.
Perhaps it’s underhanded, using Katsuki’s puppy-crush against him, but Izuku’s a quirkless teacher. He’s learnt to use what he’s got, including Katsuki’s little crush on him. Besides, the blonde isn’t exactly subtle about it; as a child, he constantly demanded that Izuku marry him and be his wife, even before he transitioned. Once he’d gotten older, and Izuku had become his middle-school teacher, his crush had seemingly reached new heights. Dangerous heights. Too many times had Izuku overheard Katsuki’s eager voice in the occasional class conversation about how ‘hot’ their sensei was. It’s not like Katsuki’s crush is all that distracting, though. Izuku doesn’t let it bother him, not usually — he refuses to admit the few nights it had bothered him, especially when those nights usually consisted of Izuku tucked in his bed, panting into his pillow as he looked at pictures of Katsuki on his phone, one hand hurriedly moving under the covers. Those nights were simply lapses in judgement, nothing more.
“Alright, class,” Izuku smiles, content with Katsuki’s quiet staring as the rest of his students settle. “Good-morning!”
Admittedly, quirk history isn’t the most interesting topic in the world to a bunch of middle-schoolers, so Izuku isn’t particularly surprised when a few of his students’ eyes glaze-over as he starts talking through the more boring bits. They’ll refocus in a moment, when Izuku gets to the fun activities he has planned — and, thankfully, most of his students are comfortable asking for help once they’ve realised that they clocked-out for something important. Truthfully, Izuku doesn’t mind helping students who aren't paying attention. As long as no one disrupts the rest of the class—
“OI!” Katsuki barks, suddenly. He sits up in his seat, pointing an accusing finger at Kawase Takiko, who’s sitting at the front of the room. “I see you on your phone, Fish Eyes! That’s fuckin’ disrespectful when Sensei’s talking!”
“Snitch!” Kawase hisses back, seal-like eyes narrowed at Katsuki. “Your constant yelling is disrespectful!”
Katsuki jumps out of his seat, palms popping and sparking. “Say that again, and I’ll blast your face into sushi, you hear me! Actually, I’ll kick your ass right now, you fucking—”
Izuku presses his palm against the back of the boy's neck. His grip is light, barely a grip at all, but it still silences Katsuki. He freezes underneath Izuku’s hand, though warmth is creeping over his ears and down his neck, all because of the slight contact. It’s adorably pathetic, Izuku has to admit, even if he’s meant to be scolding Katsuki for his behaviour right now. He didn’t even make it ten minutes without yelling at someone. That clues Izuku in as to what kind of day this’ll be; a day where Katsuki is feeling brattier than usual.
“Kacchan, sit down,” he says, firmly, hand lightly pushing Katsuki into his seat by the neck. “Kawase-kun, please put your phone away. If it’s out again, I’ll be confiscating it,”
Kawase grumbles a yes, sensei, slipping his phone into his trouser pocket. Katsuki huffs, scowling as he slumps into his seat. Izuku is certain that the only reason Katsuki isn’t yelling and screaming is because he’s consciously focusing on forcing his blush down. He’s not doing a very good job, red still staining his cheeks and glowing on his ears, stark against his light hair. Again, Izuku hides a smile; Kacchan’s so cute.
Katsuki manages to last twenty minutes without being disruptive. The first fifteen are clearly spent trying to get his blush down, and the last five are spent glaring at the work-sheet Izuku had handed out. If it was any other student, Izuku would’ve tentatively offered a helping hand by now. But it’s not. It’s Katsuki. Any help will be viewed as pity or ridicule, and will undoubtedly set the boy off. So, Izuku remains silent, occasionally glancing at him from out of the corner of his eye, over the rim of his glasses, as he monotonously answers Emails on his computer. He desperately wants to help in some way, if only to wipe that nasty, twisting scowl off of Katsuki’s lips — because Katsuki’s such a bright boy, and it just doesn’t make sense for him to sit through a lesson, getting no work done, all because he doesn’t understand the work-sheet and his teacher is too damn apprehensive to offer help! It’s unfair! Cruel, even, for a teacher to be so negligent to one of his students’ needs—
“Hey, Teach!”
Izuku grits his jaw, fingers stilling on his keyboard, all of the concern draining out of him. He can deal with most of the nicknames that Katsuki gives him, but that one in particular… he feels inexplicably violent whenever he hears it. Katsuki had picked it up from some Western movie a few weeks ago, and it’s been tormenting Izuku ever since. Sometimes, he swears that Katsuki calls him ‘Teach’ just to annoy him. Still, he is a professional, after all, and keeping a level-head seems to be the best way to deal with Katsuki.
So, he wrangles an, albeit tired, smile onto his face, turning to Katsuki and keeping his voice low enough to avoid disturbing his other students. “Yes, Kacchan?”
“This fucking worksheet makes absolutely no sense,” Katsuki complains, blunt and loud, with zero consideration for his classmates, as per usual. “Think you made it wrong, Teach. Aren’t you supposed to be good at your job? I ain’t listening to some shitty Teach that half-asses his job, you know,”
Izuku feels something inside him twitch in irritation. Normally, he takes Katsuki’s criticism and belittling in-stride, but that fucking nickname… Teach. It’s bothering him more than he thought possible, unfamiliar annoyance for the blonde bubbling and rising in his chest. It makes him a little short of breath, actually, a huff leaving him as he replies, perhaps a little sharper than intended. “The worksheets are correct, Kacchan. Read it again.”
Katsuki blinks at him, garnet eyes wide with surprise. Perhaps Izuku had been too callous. Perhaps he doesn’t quite regret it, if the satisfaction rising within him is anything to go by. Katsuki’s just— he’s loud and brash and mean, and Izuku’s always tolerated that when it’s aimed at himself, mainly because he knows what a sweetheart Katsuki can be. He knows that he also nerds-out about All-Might. He knows that he had a rock collection when he was younger (until he used them as ammunition against bullies). He knows that he likes to sit and draw with his dad, that he likes to cook for his mum, that he calls Izuku’s own mother ‘Auntie’. He knows that he desperately wanted to marry Izuku when he was younger, and that he wants to be a hero more than anything. He knows that Katsuki is capable of being sweet. Perhaps that’s why his attitude is sometimes so infuriating?
He can be sweet. He simply chooses not to.
“Like hell it is!” Katsuki snaps, waving the work-sheet in Izuku’s face, before firing-off a small explosion that burns the work-sheet to a crisp and draws a few flinches from the other students. It’s Izuku’s final straw. “I told you that it ain’t correct, Teach—”
Katsuki’s voice lilts into a high-pitched squeak when Izuku shoves his foot between the boy’s thighs, the leather toe of his shoe pressing into his small pussy through clothing. Izuku shouldn’t be doing this, not at all. It’s another lapse in judgement, it’s inappropriate, it’s wrong… but it shuts Katsuki up enough for Izuku to casually hand him another work-sheet, tapping it, expectantly. Even when Katsuki stiffly leans forward to fill the sheet out, audibly swallowing, Izuku doesn’t move his foot. Why should he? It’s not like anyone can see, his desk is hiding the view. Besides, he’s quite content to sit with soft, warm thighs squeezing his foot.
And so he does.
It works like magic; for at least another twenty minutes, Katsuki sits silently, face a deep red as he obediently fills-out the work-sheet, handwriting slightly shakier than usual. He behaves himself and he doesn’t disrupt the class, and all it took was something pressing against his clothed pussy. Izuku doesn’t know if he should be proud or exasperated. On one hand, Katsuki is exhibiting never-before-seen restraint. On the other hand, he’s only restraining himself because a single touch to his pussy has turned him into a whorish mess, blushing and fidgeting in his seat. Maybe Izuku can simply feel both; pride and fond exasperation.
“Alright, everyone, pass your work-sheets forwards,” Izuku calls out, a certain cheeriness in his voice and a growing hardness in his trousers that he refuses to acknowledge. “Kacchan, grab them for me, please,”
It’s not a meek request. Katsuki blinks a couple times, chasing away the growing fuzziness in his eyes as he gives a jerky nod. For a moment, the room is filled with rustling as work-sheet after work-sheet is passed forward and gathered for Katsuki. The blonde leans in his chair to grab the papers, thighs naturally spreading — Izuku takes a moment to admire the view before he grinds the ball of his foot into Katsuki’s tender pussy.
Katsuki chokes out a keening noise, hips jumping forwards to grind up against the sole of Izuku’s shoe. He barely manages to hold onto the work-sheets, practically throwing them onto Izuku’s desk as he slumps in his seat with no further pretense but to shamelessly hump against Izuku’s shoe. Probably rubbing his poor little clit raw. Izuku attempts to pull his foot away, but Katsuki’s thighs lock like iron around his leg, keeping his foot there to be used as some sort of crude sex toy… not that Izuku really minds all that much, but if Kacchan gets any more desperate, the rest of the class will certainly notice. For a moment, a bolt of panic shoots through Izuku. If they’re caught, Izuku will lose his job, will be thrown into prison, will never see Katsuki again. He can’t afford to lose everything, not now.
The shrill ring of the school bell has never sounded so sweet.
Izuku’s students are a kind bunch, but they still go careering out of the door at the first sound of the bell. Usually, Izuku at least attempts to slow them down, but this time he happily lets them go. What else can he do with a horny blonde humping his foot? Izuku prides himself on being an attentive teacher, and if one of his students is in need, then they obviously take priority. That’s how teaching works.
Finally, all of Izuku’s students wander out of the classroom, the door closing behind them. However, before Izuku can even blink, his foot is being released, and Kacchan is scrambling and climbing over his desk before ungracefully shoving himself into Izuku’s lap. And he wastes no time, clumsily pressing his lips to Izuku’s, eager and forceful and gripping at Izuku’s messy curls in a way that makes his scalp sting, unpleasantly.
His first kiss, most-likely.
“Ow, ow, Kacchan!” Izuku pulls back, wincing as he gently untangles Katsuki’s grasping fingers from his scalp. Katsuki whines, needy and insistent as he tries to kiss Izuku again, but Izuku remains firmly out of reach. “You’re grabbing at the ends, Kacchan. You need to grab at the roots. Like this, see?”
Izuku slides one hand into Katsuki’s soft hair, digits tightening at the roots. As gently as he can, he pulls Katsuki’s head back, smiling at the small gasp it draws from the boy, the even smaller shudder. His flushed lips part, pupils dark and swallowing up the gorgeous red of his irises. Soft, beautiful little thing silently seeking guidance from his sensei. Izuku answers the unuttered plea, flattening his palm to Katsuki’s skull and pressing him closer, mouth meeting Katsuki’s. He goes slower, this time, lips gentle, easing Katsuki into it. Izuku doesn’t remember his first kiss, years ago as it was, but the feeling still lingers with him; nervousness, eagerness, a desire to do it all quickly and passionately, though there really is no need for it. Izuku knows that he fumbled through his first kiss, clumsy and embarrassed. He’ll spare Katsuki that particular experience.
But Katsuki apparently doesn’t want to be spared.
He surges forward, shoving his tongue into Izuku’s mouth, the muscle stiff and unmoving. It’s painfully obvious that he’s blindly trying to recreate what he’s seen in movies and anime, without any experience or practice. Punching above his weight, as per usual, and none of Izuku’s soft easing will get him to back down and learn. Time for dirty tricks and a harsher hand. Izuku tightens his fingers, nails scraping Katsuki’s scalp, and he bites the tongue in his mouth. Not too hard, not too aggressively. Just a warning nip. Katsuki reels back all the same.
“Ow— WHAT THE FUCK?” Katsuki scowls, though it looks more like a pout, tongue peeking out of his downturned lips. He smacks one hand against Izuku’s chest, like he’s throwing a tantrum. “Let me kiss you without ruining it!”
“You’re the one who’s ruining it, Kacchan,” Izuku’s tone is harsh and disappointed, though his voice doesn’t raise. It’s the tone he uses when students simply refuse to listen. “Acting like an impatient child. You need to be taught these things, Kacchan, yet you refuse to follow my lead. Would you rather someone else teach you?”
Katsuki blanches at Izuku’s raised eyebrow, frantically shaking his head. “Nonono— I only want you, Sensei, just you! I promise!”
There’s that sweetness that Izuku knows and loves.
“You promise?” Izuku asks, hoisting Katsuki up, to sit on the edge of his desk, Izuku between his legs. He runs his hands up and down Katsuki’s thighs, massaging his fingers into the soft, clothed flesh just a little. Just enough to make him relax, shoulders sagging very slightly. Then, Izuku moves one hand higher, to the boy’s hip, and stretches his thumb out to press it into the soft heat hidden away under his clothing. Katsuki jerks upright, eyes wide, thighs twitching once before they close around Izuku’s hand as he drags his thumb over something sensitive. Izuku tsks, shaking his head as his free hand drags Katsuki’s legs open. “Keep them open, Katsuki. Let Sensei make you feel good,”
Izuku presses his thumb against Katsuki’s pussy again, and, once more, his thighs clamp shut. Izuku sighs, moving his chair back as he stands.
The desperate, panicked noise that Katsuki makes is utterly adorable, even more so when he grabs at Izuku’s arm, hugging it to his chest as if that’s his only way of keeping Izuku there, as if he’s not vastly more muscular than Izuku. It’s such a childish move, it makes Izuku soften for a moment, before he steels himself and moves on. His hands move to the button of Katsuki’s trousers, relentless and unyielding as Katsuki fidgets and tries to intervene, suddenly bashful under Izuku’s hands. Again, if he truly wanted to, Katsuki could easily get Izuku away. But he doesn’t. Instead, he fidgets, soft and childish as Izuku pulls his trousers to his ankles, leaving plush thighs and All-Might boxers exposed to his Sensei’s greedy gaze.
“These are cute,” Izuku hums, idly rubbing his knuckles up and down the crotch of Katsuki’s boxers. He can feel the blistering warmth beneath the fabric, so painfully tempting.
Katsuki lets out the weakest little breath, thighs trembling just a little from Izuku’s light petting. His face is fully red and twisted in a scowl, but his eyes lack any anger or fear — simply pure want. “Shut up,” he murmurs, voice turning breathy when Izuku gently presses one knuckle to where he can feel Katsuki’s little clit throbbing for attention through the fabric. Polyester? Oh, that’s not good at all. Katsuki’s parents are designers, shouldn’t they know better than to let Katsuki wear polyester? Izuku’s almost disappointed.
“We should get these off of you,” he says, voice more stern in his concern. “Polyester’s horrible for the skin,”
Katsuki flushes an even deeper red when Izuku’s hands travel to his hips, fingers hooking in the band of his boxers, pulling them down, peeling the damp fabric away from his pussy. Before Izuku can get a chance to even look at Katsuki’s pussy, the boy is stuffing his hands between his thighs, hiding his little treasure from view. Izuku sighs again, and Katsuki wilts. Quiet and embarrassed, he hesitantly pulls his hands away, squeezing his eyes closed when Izuku pries his thighs open to take-in his pussy — and what a pretty little pussy it is, small and pink, a smattering of messy blonde pubic hair bordering it. Not to mention how wet it is already, shiny and slick.
So cute, so pretty! What a good boy for showing Sensei his pussy!
Izuku doesn’t say any of the praising, adoring words on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he dips his head and kisses Katsuki again. Not as slow and careful as before. This kiss has a little more passion to it; Izuku holds Katsuki by the back of his neck, licking into his surprised little mouth, humming when Katsuki turns soft and compliant in his grasp. Like a ragdoll, if not for the hands grabbing at Izuku’s arms. He likes Katsuki like this, all soft and sweet, his usual fire turned down to a simmer. If only Katsuki could restrain himself for just a moment longer.
Instead, he fists his hands in Izuku’s shirt, searing the fabric, before trying to forcibly take control of the kiss. His inexperienced tongue shoves against Izukus, stiff and wiggling and trying so hard. It would be cute, if he wasn’t disobeying Izuku once again. Izuku might’ve even let him get away with it.
Instead, he pulls Katsuki back by the neck and slaps his pussy.
Katsuki jerks, crying out — one leg kicks Izuku’s wheely-chair away, the other thumping his desk. His hands cause similar devastation, blowing a charred hole in Izuku’s shirt before they scramble to the desk, knocking over a pencil case and a stack of papers. Then, hurriedly, he tries to cover his pussy. Izuku clicks his tongue, knocking those fumbling hands away, gripping Katsuki’s neck tighter. It allows him to meet those wide, glassy eyes, before his palm meets that small pussy with a wet slap, and Katsuki’s eyes roll very slightly, a tear slipping out, curving over his cheek, dripping off his jaw, wetting his shirt.
“I don’t like doing this, Kacchan,” and that’s true, he doesn’t like punishing his students. He feels so bad and guilty every time he has to dish out a detention or confiscate a phone or call home. But sometimes, his students just push him to his brink. Izuku’s a forgiving person, he gives chance after chance after chance, but he has limits. And Katsuki has reached one, and been punished for it. Admittedly, watching Katsuki’s pussy flush pink after those two hits, wetness drooling down the curve of his ass and seeping into the desk, assuages his guilt just a little. Never before has a punishment turned him on so much, though Katsuki is the one receiving the punishment, which might have something to do with it. “What did I say, Kacchan? Can you tell me?”
Katsuki sniffles, furiously blinking his red eyes, head still tipped-back from the grasp Izuku has on his neck. “Let— let Sensei take care of me,”
“And what did you do?”
Katsuki’s face twists and scrunches as he cries, lower lip wobbling. No amount of blinking can hold back his tears now. “Tried to take control,”
Izuku nods, gaze softening as he lets go of Katsuki’s neck to cup his face, wiping away those tears. His free hand goes to Katsuki’s poor pussy, stroking between those puffy folds, where he’s hot and sopping-wet. He drags his fingers from his tiny hole to his tiny clit, pausing to feel it twitch, slick and soft against the calluses of his fingers. The touch seems to soothe Katsuki just a little; he relaxes into Izuku’s hands, watery eyes growing heavy with pleasure. He’s still crying, but the sight of tears running over pink baby-cheeks only makes Izuku harder in his trousers. Trust Katsuki to make even crying look good.
“See how good Sensei can make you feel when you behave?” Izuku coos, rubbing little circles into Katsuki’s clit, watching the boy sigh a breathless yes as he curls in to lean against Izuku’s chest. His head rests on Izuku’s shoulder, hands flitting over his shirt, petulantly tugging at his buttons. Izuku raises an eyebrow, then lightly pinches Katsuki’s clit, absolutely delighting in the little whimper it pulls from the boy. Too easy, honestly.
“Can I— please?” Katsuki asks, tugging his buttons again. His thighs close around Izuku’s hand when his clit is pinched again, then he’s wide-eyed and stumbling over an apology. “No. no, no, Sensei, I didn’t mean to, I promise, I’m sorry— fuck!”
When Izuku slaps Katsuki’s pussy this time, his palm comes away wet with Katsuki’s arousal.
“Ask first, Kacchan,” he scolds, ever so lightly, even as he returns to rubbing slow circles into Katsuki’s clit. “It’s impolite to try and do things without asking first, you know that.”
Katsuki nods into Izuku’s shoulder. His thighs keep twitching and shaking, and his clit is pulsing underneath Izuku’s thumb, desperate to be touched just a little more. Clearly, smacking that little pussy around is one of the few ways to tame the beast that is Bakugo Katsuki. Useful, and enjoyable, Izuku thinks. He swallows his excitement when Katsuki shifts against Izuku’s shoulder, blinking glassy eyes up at him, almost pouting. “Please,” he whines, pushing himself up a little further to nuzzle against Izuku’s jaw. “I want your shirt off. Wanna see you when you fuck me, Sensei,”
Fuck.
Presumptious. Izuku’s cock is in agony, confined by his trousers. He takes a moment, closing his eyes and swallowing, thickly. Katsuki’s still nuzzling his jaw, pressing chaste little kisses there, actively hindering Izuku’s attempt to calm down. Which is certainly what he needs to do if he’s going to fuck Katsuki, if he’s going to be taking his virginity all for himself — it’s going to be Katsuki’s first time, and Izuku wants to make it perfect. He wants to make it something that Katsuki will never regret or feel ashamed of. Because Katsuki’s such a sweet, special boy, and Izuku doesn’t want to ruin him.
“Fuck, okay,” Izuku doesn’t sound as composed as he’d hoped, but that doesn’t fucking matter anymore. He’s undoing the buttons on his shirt as fast as he can, briefly pausing to stare at the charred holes in his shirt, before he simply shrugs the fabric off. He doesn’t toss it away, though, because he has a plan. Gently as he can, Izuku pushes Katsuki back, until he’s lying on the desk, blinking up at Izuku, his little legs hanging off. Izuku balls his ruined shirt up, sliding it under Katsuki’s hips to raise him just a little, so he’s at the perfect angle, before focusing on Katsuki’s feet. He takes his shoes off, tucking his socks into them, dropping them on the floor, then slides his trousers off. Finally, Izuku drags his chair back, between Katsuki’s legs, and sits down.
Katsuki scrunches his nose, propping himself up on his elbows as he blinks down at Izuku, dazed and judgemental. “What the hell are you sitting down fo-oooh my god, Sensei!”
Izuku smiles against Katsuki’s clit as the boy goes down, hands grabbing at the desk as his legs twitch and kick at Izuku, the sudden pleasure overwhelming his poor little body. Not that Izuku cares — Katsuki’s pussy is soaking wet, his clit pulsing on his sensei’s tongue, and Izuku feels like he’s in heaven. He presses his mouth as close as he can, sucking on that tiny clit, closing his eyes and moaning as he swallows down the taste of him. There’s slick smeared over his chin and cheeks and nose, but he doesn’t care. In fact, dirty old man that he is, Izuku likes it. He could happily rub his face against Katsuki’s pussy, if only he didn’t have a plan, if only his cock wasn’t leaking in his underwear.
Whilst his mouth is busy and Katsuki’s distracted, desperately trying to muffle his keening moans, Izuku brings his hand up, until it hovers underneath his mouth. Katsuki’s so wet, Izuku doesn’t even need to lube his fingers up — instead, he lets Katsuki’s pussy drool all over them, before he eases one big finger inside Katsuki’s hole. He’s vice-tight and pulsing around only one finger, clenching like he wants to snap it off. At this rate, Izuku will never get his cock in him.
He tries all he can to get Katsuki to relax; he sucks and licks his clit like he’s trying to polish it with his tongue, he kisses his twitching thighs, he tries going slow with his finger, he tries going fast with his finger. But nothing works. Only when, in a fit of horny desperation, Izuku shoves his tongue inside Katsuki alongside his fingers, does Katsuki relax, letting out the smallest of sighs as he melts against the desk, legs falling open even further, sprawled apart. So that’s all it took? A tongue being stuffed in his pussy? Wow. He truly does have the perfect pussy of a seasoned slut. Surprising, for a middle-schooler. Izuku doesn’t let that dissuade him, though. Instead, he clears his head and feasts.
His jaw is aching terribly, as is his tongue. Eating pussy does that to a guy, unfortunately. It’s a small sacrifice for heaven, though. Katsuki humps against his face with every curl of Izuku’s finger and every deep lick of his tongue. Wetness is smeared over the entirety of the bottom-half of Izuku’s face, and a slick mix of Katsuki’s juices and Izuku’s saliva is dripping down Izuku’s chin, no doubt dirtying his trousers, strings of the slick mixture occasionally falling over Izuku’s bare chest.
“Put— put another—!” Katsuki gasps out, demanding as always.
But Izuku is weak to his whims, to how breathless and debauched he sounds already. He shifts, slightly, withdrawing his tongue to press two fingers inside. He curls them into Katsuki’s soft walls, smiling when a ragged moan leaves the boy. Feeling viciously pent-up, he curls his fingers again and again and again until Katsuki is writhing, letting out a continuous slew of pleasured noise against the palm of his hand. Izuku doesn’t press his tongue back inside, though, unwilling to do anything that’ll block the easy-access that his fingers currently have to Katsuki’s G-spot.
Instead, he focuses on his clit again, chubby and swollen, glistening with his own wetness, flushed red. The poor thing is literally twitching for attention. He latches his mouth to it, smiling when he hears Katsuki’s breathing pick-up, feels the muscles in his thighs flexing around him, his pussy clamping and squeezing. Idly, waiting for the inevitable, Izuku sucks Katsuki’s clit into his mouth, running his tongue over it, rubbing it, humming when he feels his tongue rub at an angle that hits that sweet spot hidden by the hood of his clit—
Katsuki wails when he comes, and Izuku has to hurriedly cover the boy’s already-covered mouth with his free hand to muffle the noise.
His other hand is busy, fingers relentlessly curling, mouth sucking and licking, even as Katsuki’s pussy spasms, growing tighter and wetter, throbbing beneath it all. Izuku doesn’t let up. He keeps the sensations going, prolongs Katsuki’s orgasm, draws it out until he’s practically wringing it from him. His pussy is flushed hot and his thighs are squeezing Izuku’s head and Izuku can’t really breathe, but it’s all worth it. Because he wants to make it perfect for Katsuki. So he doesn’t stop until Katsuki shakily pushes at his head with one hand, thighs jerking with every sensitive touch. He takes his mouth away, first, chin and cheeks sticky. Then, he slowly pulls his fingers out, swallowing a groan as cum clings to his fingers, connecting them to Katsuki’s red, puffy pussy. Shamelessly, Izuku licks his fingers clean, then forcefully holds Katsuki’s legs open to lap-up all the cum he can, ignoring Katsuki’s teary protests and the hands weakly yanking at his curls.
Only after he’s savoured all he can does he pull back.
Katsuki’s crying again, face red and sweaty, hair somehow messy. He’s blinking up at Izuku like he can’t decide whether to kiss him or explode him. Izuku makes the choice for him, leaning over his trembling body to capture his lips. Katsuki slings his arms around Izuku’s neck, giving-in to the deep kiss without a second thought. And, for once, he’s not trying to rush anything or take control. He’s just taking what Izuku gives him, sweet and obedient. Izuku’s so very proud. Less so when Katsuki pulls back, face lazily drawn in a scowl that looks more like a pout.
“Why aren’t you fucking me?” he asks, almost accusing. His voice is slightly croaky, half-wrecked by all the moaning and wailing. The sound sends a shiver down Izuku’s spine.
“I thought I’d give you a minute, Kacchan,” he explains, voice soft as he braces himself on the desk with his arm, free hand brushing Katsuki’s hair away from his sweaty forehead. “You came pretty hard, Kacchan. You’re probably still sensitive, I don’t want to overstimulate you—”
Katsuki scoffs, loud and overconfident. “FUCK that! Put your cock in me!”
“But you—”
“Don’t care,” Katsuki dismisses Izuku, rolling his eyes. “Put your cock in me, Teach! What, you scared?”
…Teach. Izuku straightens, grabbing the undersides of Katsuki’s thighs, folding his legs to his chest. He ignores the boy’s yelp, holding both ankles with one hand, the other undoing his trousers and pulling his cock out. He’s hard as steel, the tip flushed red and angry, pre-cum smeared down the shaft. He strokes himself, watching heat rise to Katsuki’s cheeks. It’s probably his first time seeing a cock. It’s definitely his first time seeing a cock that’s going to go inside him. Going to fuck him. Fuck him hard, if the hot mix of arousal and annoyance is anything to go by. Ignoring the flustered noise that Katsuki makes, Izuku readies his cock, tip pressed flush to that sloppy, messy hole. It’s already pulsing against him, eager and ready when Izuku drags the tip of his cock up and down, through Katsuki’s folds, pausing to grind it against Katsuki’s clit.
“Wait,” Katsuki gasps, suddenly nervous as Izuku fits his hands behind Katsuki’s knees to keep them pressed to his chest. “Wait, Sensei, just—”
Katsuki trails off into a pathetic choked noise as Izuku eases his cock in an inch. His mouth hangs open, uselessly, eyes heavy as Izuku pushes in a little more, into that tight, wet, heat. Izuku’s not waiting, not when Katsuki demanded he fuck him and called him that stupid nickname. He’s been hard and aching for too long, and he’s not stopping now, not stopping at all. A whole legion of pro-heroes could burst into the classroom, and yet Izuku wouldn’t allow himself to be pulled from Katsuki’s pussy until he’s had his fill. Katsuki’s made him wait so long, after all, perhaps longer than either of them realised — just as Katsuki’s a cute teen, he’d been a cute kid, too. Maybe this has been a long time coming.
Slowly but surely, Izuku pushes inside Katsuki, ignoring how tightly he’s gripping his cock, the gasping whimpers leaving his mouth, how his toes curl when Izuku shifts and changes the angle just a little. Izuku just feeds Katsuki his cock, acting much more composed than he feels. Internally, he wants to cry. Katsuki feels so perfect and he’s letting Izuku share such an intimate moment with him, even if it makes Izuku a dirty old perv. He has to actively restrain himself from blubbering and kissing all over Katsuki’s cute face, instead focusing on easing his cock in, inch by slow inch, until, finally, he’s bottoming out inside Katsuki. For this, he pauses, giving Katsuki time to adjust. He never wants to hurt Katsuki, and no complaints from the boy will make him speed up and act recklessly.
“Sensei… Zuku…” Katsuki gasps, hands shaky as they reach up to grab at Izuku’s shoulders, pulling him down. By doing so, he fully folds himself in half, ankles by his head, Izuku pressed to his chest. Katsuki buries his face in Izuku’s neck, pressing desperate little kisses to the softer skin there, gasping as he throbs around Izuku’s cock that’s lodged deep in his pussy.
And Izuku? Izuku is suffering.
He wants to fuck, wants to bury himself even deeper inside Katsuki, wants to pound him into the desk. He feels almost savage about it, like an animal salivating for a chance to mount and breed. And goddammit, Izuku shouldn’t have thought about breeding. He drops his head, just a little, sucking in a shaky breath as he squeezes his eyes closed, trying to ignore the sweet way that Katsuki’s kissing his neck.
“Want you,” Katsuki murmurs mindless words, probably completely unaware of what he’s saying. He sounds slurred and cock-drunk, lips clumsy yet insistent on Izuku’s neck. “Zuku… want you so bad, please. Please, I… need it so bad, so, so, bad, please,”
Wordlessly, Izuku hushes the boy, turning his head to kiss his temple. He doesn’t seem too overwhelmed, and he’s not acting like he’s in pain, so Izuku takes a chance. He pushes himself up, braced on his forearms, sturdy and strong, before he carefully shifts his hips back, cock slowly sliding out of the tight sheath of Katsuki’s pussy. Katsuki whines as he does, weakly grabbing at Izuku’s arms, pussy desperately clenching around the tip of Izuku’s cock before that slips out as well, simply resting on his hole. Already, Katsuki is beginning to whine, nipping at Izuku’s neck whilst he glares up at him with shiny eyes.
“Don’t give me that look, Kacchan,” Izuku sighs, sliding his cock back inside, smiling at the little gasp that’s punched out of Katsuki’s mouth. “I gotta pull-out to push-in. That’s how sex works,”
Katsuki gives a shy little nod, though he immediately goes back to pouting when Izuku pulls-out again. Fine. If Katsuki wants to be impatient and pouty, Izuku can be impatient too. The next time he draws his hips back, he doesn’t ease himself back inside. Instead, he shifts his weight onto his forearms and slams his hips forewards. He’s not surprised when Katsuki chokes on a scream, clamping his hands over his mouth as his feet bob from the impact and the angle, still pressed back, dangling by his ears.
“Is that better, Kacchan?” Izuku asks in a moment of pettiness. It’s not like Katsuki can answer — his hands are still locked over his mouth, muffling every noise that Izuku fucks out of him. It’s oddly cathartic, having Katsuki on his back, folded in half, eyes rolling into his skull as Izuku jackhammers into his sloppy pussy. It’s somewhat of a stress-reliever, after the day Katsuki’s put him through so far. Maybe that’s fucked-up to think. Maybe he shouldn’t be thinking of his Kacchan as nothing more than a pretty little sex toy for him to fuck. Like a doll, or an onahole, spread out on his desk and being thoroughly used. These are dangerous thoughts, addictive thoughts. These are thoughts that make his cock throb and his mind slip. Thoughts that make Izuku careless.
He slams into Katsuki as hard as he can, groaning as wet warmth squeezes around his cock. Instinctually, Izuku chases that delicious sensation of being deep — he fucks Katsuki into his desk harder than he ever intended, mouthing at the boy’s throat as he chokes on gasps behind his hands, tears rolling down his cheeks. Some part of Izuku screams at him to stop, to slow down, to check on Katsuki and make sure he’s not hurting. Another part of him salivates at the sight of the vulnerable little thing beneath him, pussy taking his cock so well, even as his belly bulges with every thrust and his thighs tremble perpetually. So small, so tight, so wet, so warm, so beautiful. Izuku listens to the latter, kissing at Katsuki’s throat as his cockhead slams into Katsuki’s cervix.
Katsuki’s feet kick as he wails against his shaking hands, pussy clamping tight around Izuku. Izuku simply takes it in stride, letting those legs press into his chest and shoulders as he thrusts into the writhing toy beneath him, panting against Katsuki’s neck. And when Katsuki starts thrashing and moving beneath him, something animalistic rears its head inside Izuku, and he bites.
It’s not a hard bite. It doesn’t even break skin, only leaving reddened imprints on Katsuki’s collar that will no-doubt turn puffy and white within a few hours. But still, not enough to do any real damage.
But Katsuki arches and cries and comes all the same, poor abused pussy squirting around his Sensei’s cock and clenching hard enough to snap it off. He shakes and breaks underneath Izuku, dazed and clutching at Izuku’s shoulders like he needs to ground himself, mouth open on a silent moan, eyes rolling and unseeing. For a moment, Izuku is stunned beyond belief — because Katsuki, his Kacchan, his student, just squirted from his cock alone, and now everything between them is wet and messy and sweaty and hot. His pace barely falters before he’s fucking into Katsuki as hard as he can once more.
Katsuki’s pussy must be so overwhelmed, so overstimulated. It’s his first time being fucked, afterall, and Izuku isn’t being exactly gentle. He simply can’t control himself, Katsuki’s pussy is too good. But he can control how loud they’re being; Izuku kisses Katsuki, licking the moans out of his mouth, a groan rumbling in his chest as Katsuki grabs at green curls, nails cramping scalp as he tugs just right, just as Izuku taught him to. Even though his pussy spasms with every thrust, even though he’s shaking all over, even though his legs must be in pain, Katsuki doesn’t complain. He simply grabs at Izuku, gasping into his mouth as he’s fucked into overstimulation.
“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” Izuku’s held-back his words of adoration for so long, it’s not surprising that they’re finally spilling out. “So— so fucking beautiful, Kacchan, taking me so well — taking me like a good boy, my good boy,”
“Zuku!” Katsuki gasps, the noise fucked out of him as his head falls back against the desk, hair tangling in the wood grains, every thrust jolting his small body. “ZUKU!”
Izuku groans as he feels Katsuki’s pussy clench and throb, burning hot around him, probably close to coming again. Katsuki’s certainly not the only one affected, though. Izuku’s so hard he could die, and that isn’t helped by how perfect Katsuki is in every way. He could easily and happily slide inside his pussy and stay there forever, the boy’s body milking him of all he has. The thought alone has him desperately mouthing at the soft curve of a throat beneath him, kissing and sucking any inch of sweet skin that he can.
Katsuki’s going to come soon, Izuku can tell. His breathing is picking-up again, fast and erratic, leaving his mouth in pants and whines. His legs are spasming, too, trying to close around Izuku or kick him away. Getting closer and closer to coming on Izuku’s cock again. How did he get so lucky? Izuku pushes that thought to the back of his mind, speeding his thrusts up until he’s pounding against Katsuki’s cervix again, and the boy is writhing. He doesn’t make a sound this time. His eyes screw shut and his mouth falls open, but no sound comes out as his pussy throbs and drools cum all over Izuku’s cock. Only when Izuku starts thrusting again does Katsuki make a noise; a whining sob, accompanied by tears sliding down his hot cheeks. It’s obviously too much this time, his pussy too oversensitive. Besides, Izuku’s reaching his climax, too. So, as gently as he can, he pulls out, standing up and ignoring the slight tremble to his legs.
Embarrassingly enough, Izuku almost comes from the mere sight of Katsuki.
His pussy is puffy and red, clit swollen beyond belief. Everything is slick and wet, squirt dripping down his legs, cum slowly seeping out of his twitching, fucked-open hole. He’s so stretched already, moulded to fit Izuku’s cock, and Izuku’s cock alone. So pretty.
“Sensei…” Katsuki cries, only able to lie there, legs trembling and shaking now that they’re no-longer folded to his chest. “Don’t— don’t go, Sensei, please…”
Izuku softens in an instant, pulling his chair closer to sit down in it as he gathers Katsuki in his arms, gently hauling him off of his desk and into his lap. Instantly, the boy is slumping against his bare chest, crying whilst he nuzzles into his pecs. Izuku coos and strokes his hair, desperately trying to ignore the fact that Katsuki’s sitting on his achingly-hard cock. “I’m not going anywhere, Kacchan,” he murmurs, tilting the boy’s face up to kiss his forehead and wipe his tears away. “I just didn’t want you hurting your little legs. Isn’t this more comfortable?’
Katsuki blinks down at the position they’re currently in, frowning very slightly. Then, he shakily raises himself to his knees, letting out a hiccuping sob as he guides Izuku’s cock to his pussy, slowly sinking down on it as he scrunches his face and cries. It’s unfairly adorable, but Izuku’s focus is on the heavenly pussy that’s slowly enveloping his cock until, finally, Katsuki is fully seated. He tries to bounce himself, but his legs are shaking far too much for his attempt to be anything other than pathetic. Adorable.
“It’s okay, Kacchan,” Izuku hums, hands sliding over that trim waist, wandering underneath his school shirt. Carefully, he grips Katsuki’s hips, gently grinding him down. “Like that. Go slow, you don’t want to hurt yourself, do you?”
Katsuki shook his head, all soft breaths and heavy eyes as he grinds down on Izuku’s cock, finding a rhythm that practically makes him purr. Not fast, but not too slow, either. The warm, grinding pressure is absolutely perfect, unhurried and intimate in a way that their previous fast, dirty fucking hadn’t been. Izuku can’t help but watch Katsuki, letting the soft pleasure wash over him. He’s so beautiful, so sweet, Izuku doesn’t know how he’s managed to survive this long without feeling Katsuki like this, without holding him or kissing him. Maybe, after this, Katsuki will let him do it again sometime? Do it more often. His cock pulses at the thought, and Katsuki whimpers, blinking hazy red eyes up at his Sensei.
Izuku takes the opportunity to dip his head and kiss Katsuki, the kiss as unhurried and intimate as the grinding. He cups the boy’s face, groaning into his mouth just a little as the pleasure coiling in his gut builds and builds. At the muffled sound, Katsuki moves his hips with just a little more urgency, clearly eager for his Sensei’s cum.
Not that Izuku can give it to him.
Though Izuku is undeniably in love with Katsuki — and his pussy — he won’t risk knocking him up just yet. Perhaps when Katsuki’s older, when his body isn’t so little. As much as the thought of filling Katsuki up with his seed, his essence, turns Izuku on beyond belief, he simply can’t risk it. He’s a teacher, after all. An adult. The responsible one in this blossoming relationship. So, when that coil in his gut feels on the brink of snapping, Izuku lifts Katsuki up and lets his cock slip out of him. Then, he sits Katsuki on his thighs, taking his cock in hand even as his student whines and cries for him to put it back in. Resisting is certainly not easy, He manages, though, jerking himself until he comes over Katsuki’s tummy and pussy with a swallowed moan.
“Zuku,” Katsuki whines, even as he drags his fingers through the cum clinging to his skin, curiously raising it to his lips. “Wasted it. Wanted it inside,”
“That’s risky, Kacchan,” Izuku huffs, slumping against his chair, lazily watching as Katsuki laps-up the cum on his fingers with a satisfied hum. “Could get you pregnant, and you’re too young,”
At that, Katsuki goes very still. Then, he scoops-up more cum with his fingers and promptly shoves those fingers inside his wrecked hole, hissing with oversensitivity, baring his teeth when Izuku yelps and tries to pull his hand away from himself. “Coward,” Katsuki says, even as he fingers Izuku’s cum into his pussy. “Shoulda put a baby inside me, Teach,”
…Teach.
Katsuki’s smile melts away into a cry when Izuku drags him onto his cock once more.