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Chapter Text

Ch 1 - Toe the line

Even before the streetlights flickered on across town, Midoriya knew - and ignored - that his shift must have officially ended a while ago. And when the unnatural light washed over streets and concrete facades, he decided to finally listen to his fatigued body and call it a day. But for heroes, whose work was a calling and not a job, overtime in the strict sense of the word did not really exist.

Midoriya reported to the HQ that he was off duty for the rest of the night and, although he was too tired to use it as precisely as he would in a fight, he utilised his Float quirk to move above traffic and buildings and head home. It was a quick and silent way of traveling that attracted the least attention, allowing him to make swift progress.

Absentmindedly, while he ascended and descended through the night air in long, lazy jumps, Midoriya thought about the TV dinner he would have to buy somewhere, long overdue chores he had to take care of, calls he needed to return… so many things that waited on him to stop saving the world. Unfortunately, the home and friends he neglected because of his professional career weren’t the only essential things that got ignored. While doctors and trainers of his hero agency took great care to keep his body in optimal shape, it was up to him to tend to his emotional and sexual health.

And there, Midoriya admitted to himself with a sting of bitter embarrassment, he was completely failing. A quick, desperate jerk-off when he would grow too frustrated to ignore his urges didn't get him an inch closer to a healthy relationship now than when he was a high-schooler who had the same secret habit.

He sighed, admitting defeat for the umptieth time. Maybe Kacchan was right all along; no matter how strong or influential Midoriya got, in some aspects he was still a hopeless nerd. As he climbed the popularity ladder, instead of being easier, dating actually became more complicated. There was simply no time for meeting new people, no time for meaningful conversations, for creating connections that would lead to other possibilities… Unlike Denki, Mineta and many of his colleagues who enjoyed generosity of their female fanbase with a clear conscience, Midoriya was, in his heart of hearts, a prude.

 Even now, as an adult, he couldn’t fight a treacherous blush that had a habit of blooming across his freckled cheeks whenever a woman was too forward or too erotically assertive towards him. The sexual encounters he had in the past were casual, fleeting and have left him with a bland aftertaste. That was not what he was about.

For all he knew, this would be one of those uneventful evenings when he would dine on a bento bought in a random konbini, masturbate in the shower with the lights off and fall asleep alone in his 5-room apartment. However, when he noticed you struggling with an overloaded shopping bag that burst open in the middle of a narrow alley, the altruist in him just couldn’t pass you by.

You were not in any apparent danger and, given time, he was sure you would find a way to haul all the scattered groceries home somehow, but there was something his Danger Sense didn’t like about this secluded alleyway snaking between towering buildings so he decided to make a quick detour and give you a hand.

He deliberately landed a few dozen steps ahead not to spook you by his unexpected descent and slowly walked over, making clear he wasn’t a threat.

“Good evening, how is it going?” Midoriya announced his presence in a professionally controlled tone, a line he used countless times before. “Do you need any help?”

“Actually, yes, thanks…” you were crouching, absorbed by attempt to collect all oranges that rolled every which way. Only then did you look up and froze in place, “Oh.”

Midoriya noticed you had nice, expressive eyes. He then waved his hand dismissively, feeling embarrassed for keeping his attention on them for a moment too long. People had all sorts of reactions when encountering him and this was not unusual. “I’ll be glad to lend a hand.”

“Umm, thank you,” you tried to stand up and bow at the same time, while disobedient oranges rolled from your hands back onto the street, “but this is not an emergency, really, some other people may need saving from villains…”

Seeing he was not the only klutz here, Midoriya’s smile widened, slow enough to reveal how spent he was. “Well I’m just wrapping things up for today anyway, so this is right up my alley. No pun intended.” He added hastily, realising with horror that he was again talking too much. Kacchan was right indeed; once a nerd, always a nerd. Knowing his forte lied in action, he reached for the oranges, “Here, let me get these.”

Cutting any further protests short, he crouched down and started collecting your scattered groceries. You bowed to thank him again, having no other options, and helped him help you. Of course you knew who this was – it took a single glance to recognise his green hair and his hero suit – but never in your life could you have guessed that the pro hero Deku you usually saw fighting the meanest villains in the news would be helping you salvage your toothpaste, milk carton, a pack of carrots, renegade oranges, … ohmylord the sanitary towels! Your eyes went wide, wildly looking around for the smallish package. When you spotted it, you moved with superhuman speed to retrieve and stuff it in your bag, however, the hero was either too tired or too absorbed in his task to take note.

“Maybe it is not my place to say this but,” Midoriya started quietly, straightening up. His folded arms were now carrying the contents of your busted bag, “this alley is not well lit and is practically inviting thieves. It would be best to avoid it.”

“You are right,” you nodded dejectedly, inspecting a big carton of eggs you just bought, gingerly opening the lid to assess the damage, “I usually don’t use it but the bag was starting to tear and I thought I could take a shortcut just this one time… Oh shooty shoot, all the eggs are cracked.”

You sighed in disappointment while Midoriya surprisingly found the quasi-swears coming from you so charming he almost chuckled.

“I should use them immediately or they will go to waste, but there’s too many...” you bit your lip, a plan forming in your head. Your eyes met and you bowed lightly to your helper, “May I invite you for a serving of omurice, to say thanks? This will be done in no time and if you are done with your work…”

“Uh, but there is really no need,” Midoriya smiled uneasily, surprised by the sudden invitation, “This is just a typical hero’s assignment…”

„You would actually be doing a good deed,“ you persisted, tugging at his sense of duty, „I simply cannot eat all these eggs by myself.”

Midoriya gave your proposal a serious thought as he walked alongside you, with his PR agent’s advices against getting involved with civilians while on duty blared through his head. Well, he wasn’t technically on duty at the moment and he was going to take the groceries to your apartment anyway so…

So what if he misbehaved just once? It was a harmless transgression of a code that was only in his head anyway.

“Alright, just a quick bite then,” he nodded with a professional smile - hiding his insecurity behind it - and walked on, still feeling he was doing something forbidden. Surprisingly, while his decision left an anxious residue in his belly, it also held a strange allure that made him hyperaware of your proximity, your faint scent, your voice that filled the silence with nervous pleasantries. While holding your groceries firmly to his chest, he stole a glance at your profile, your hair, lips. Did you maybe feel the same? You certainly didn’t seem like a woman who would casually invite strange men to her apartment.

“It is just around the corner,” you smiled apologetically and, indeed, you were both soon climbing a narrow staircase to the second floor.

“Please, feel welcome,” you unlocked a non-descript door, one of many in a corridor that reminded Midoriya of a building where he grew up, and invited him in with a sweep of your hand.

“Sorry for intruding…” he quietly mumbled as he entered the small apartment, crouched down to temporarily set the groceries on the floor and take off his heavy boots. Even before he took a proper look at the place, just by its soft, warm smell he decided that he loved it.

It was tiny and close to a busy road, but everything in it was tidy and tastefully picked, creating a unique nest that revealed bits about its owner in dozens of details. Compared to it, his huge, empty apartment, completely silent due to its skyscraper penthouse location and thick walls, furnished with expensive pieces his interior architects have cherry-picked for him felt more like a museum. Or a morgue.

Suddenly, he lost all will to return there.

“Yeah, this is what a home is supposed to feel like,” a thought floated through his mind. “Cozy.”

It was a feeling that he hadn’t experienced ever since he moved out of the apartment he shared with his mother and that, until now, he didn’t even realise he missed.

“Please, wash your hands over there,” you indicated a bathroom door, “and make yourself comfortable on the sofa. I’ll get right on it.”

Wasting no time, your hands were already busy with pots and pans.

Midoriya nodded, deposited the food and the trinkets he had been carrying on a narrow kitchen counter and squeezed by you to get to the bathroom. During one brief moment your bodies touched and in the next he was in the bathroom, leaning against a sink and staring at his face in the mirror. He didn’t have the courage to look down and acknowledge it, but he unmistakeably felt the stubborn budding of an erection. Even though his hips yearned to press against the sink, he kept them pointedly at a distance. He couldn’t allow this to escalate.

But a bathroom filled with nice-smelling bottles, salves, cremes and heaps of girly accessories didn’t help at all. While the apartment discreetly carried your scent, it was amplified in this cramped space, drowning out his reason and making him feel all funny inside.

“You are just too tired,” he mouthed at his reflection, his intense, blood-shot  eyes glaring hard at their own pupils, staring them down into submission. “And horny,” an unwelcome truth whizzed out of nowhere and got stuck in his head. Like it had a mind if its own, one of his hands slowly cupped his crotch and gently pressed. A warm, arousing sensation tingled through his loins, making him yearn for more.  The eyes in the mirror lost their focus despite his will and he bit his lower lip. This is not how heroes should behave. A harmless transgression of a code that was only in his head, eh?

“This is wrong,” his mouth moved while he tried to talk some sense into himself, “Wash your face, cool off, go out there, smile, eat your dinner and go home.”

Instead, his palm cupped the swelling cock more snugly and squeezed again and then, even though he ordered himself to stop, squeezed again. And again. It just felt too good. How long has it been? A week? Ten days? Midoriya opened his mouth to let out a pent-up sigh as quietly as he could, its heat searing his lips, while closing his eyes. He couldn’t look at himself any longer, a part of him feeling deep shame. What would his mentor All Might say if he saw him in this sordid state, wanking while still wearing his hero suit, in a bathroom of a woman he had just helped? He was a disgrace.

But his body moved on its own.

Slowly, his fingers slid down his flat belly and inside his pants and squeezed the pulsating flesh. Midoriya’s breath caught. The hand wouldn’t stop petting and caressing, cramping the tight space and making him shift uncomfortably. He squeezed harder, trying to find relief and only made it worse.

Fingers of his free hand slowly reached for his belt buckle. 

“Deku-san!” your voice startled him and made him pull his hand out of his pants urgently like it was stuck in boiling water. The eyes that were staring at him from the mirror were wide with terror, the green pupils the size of pinheads. His head was clear and sober in an instant. “The food is almost done! Would you like some ketchup on top?”

“Y-Yes, please!” the heart that was pounding in his chest made his voice shake. “I’ll be right there!”

Did he go insane, what was he doing!? Leaning against the sink, he sprayed water on his face and neck, shocking his body with the cold and waiting for his racing heart to calm down.

“Eat your dinner and go home, eat your dinner and go home” he mumbled to himself repeatedly, as he would always do when the nerves got the best of him, while the running water drowned out his voice.

He then dried his face and hands, put on a smile, turned the knob and stepped outside.

Chapter Text

Ch 2 – Break the rules

Midoriya accepted a plate heavy with a big serving of omelette and rice mixed with various vegetables and streaked with ketchup from you, and smiled thankfully. It was certainly not the most skilfully made omurice he ever had but at the moment he was so hungry, the very aroma made it look like a five-star meal to him.

You took your own plate to a smallish sofa - too big for two, too small for three people – and invited him over. He sat rigidly at the very end and half turned to you, pleasantly sinking in the comfortable padding that was the very definition of ‘cosy’. He balanced the plate on his lap, careful not to spill any food and, feeling its heat on his thighs, again sensed the pleasant quiver deep inside.

“I will take care of this the moment I get home,” he vowed to himself with irritation, struggling to keep his smile on and his dick down.  

“Please enjoy your meal, Deku-san,” you nodded your head in a bow, waiting on him to take the first bite with your own plate waiting on your lap. He found your expectant look endearing and the very idea that you cooked a meal for a tired stranger tugged at his heartstrings.

Midoriya forked a piece of eggs and rice, blew on it because the food was still steaming, then put it down again.

“Yeah, about that…” he tried to maintain an eye contact, but somehow just couldn’t manage it properly. You were sitting so close, “Just call me Izuku.”

There was something charmingly boyish about this man that emanated through his words and gestures despite his tall frame, deep voice and wide shoulders. Even though he wielded powerful quirks, his demeanour was gentle and surprisingly attractive. You had to remind yourself that this was a brave fighter and a fierce protector of peace that should be treated as a distinguished public figure, but there was just something about him that made him exceptionally approachable and you caught yourself wondering what would those dark curls feel like beneath your fingers.

At the same time, you found his shy eyes utterly disarming.

“Alright, Izuku, I hope you’ll like it,” you smiled warmly and, at the sound of his name, he couldn’t suppress the familiar tingling in his cheeks. And somewhere else. What the hell was wrong with him today?

He finally took a bite and acknowledged its taste with energetic nods, making your smile widen. Then you both dug in. It was easy to start a chat going over a meal, beginning with the ingredients, then moving on to your favourite cooking and onwards to food related anecdotes. And after you brought cold beers to round up the meal, your words started flowing even more freely.

With two empty plates on the floor, you proceeded to sip your drinks and talk, both of you forgetting that you had met just today and that there was really no reason for Izuku to linger here. Still, he was reluctant to leave, even when his eyelids became heavy partly due to alcohol, partly due to the late hour. There was nothing waiting for him back home, except the vast space, and he realised he genuinely wanted to get to know you better. Who knew if he would ever get a second chance? You didn’t seem eager to see him off either, pulling your legs up and beneath your body for a snug fit amid cushions and continuing to listen and talk animatedly. As he leaned his progressively heavier head on his hand that rested on the sofa back, Izuku couldn’t recall when was the last time he was this carefree and relaxed.

You found it astounding that someone so famous could be so down to earth and you liked the effect a warm meal, soft couch and beer had on Izuku. Even without listening to his anecdotes, that were coming more and more naturally, his body language said it all. He was soon sitting back and forgetting himself, totally unaware that his eyes not only shunned caution but were even becoming daring, revealing Izuku’s true state of mind. The awkward positions he took in effort to hide his erection were amusing and, frankly, arousing. You could bet that most pro heroes, aware of their celebrity statuses, would not go out of their way to hide a blatant sexual interest. On the contrary, they would expect to be coveted a priori, and someone of Izuku’s station and looks could probably try his luck with random women and not look for too long.

That made this situation even more interesting. You opened another beer can and handed it to the unsuspecting hero, watching the wall of his self-control crumble.

Despite his effort to stay focused on what you said, Izuku’s eyes kept returning to your lips and lingering there. The comfortable heaviness of his limbs, snugness of the sofa, the alluring woman sitting so close, sharing drinks, laughs, stories… Even if he weren’t sexually deprived, he would start entertaining lewd ideas. He was a grown man, after all. The familiar twitch in his crotch prompted him to cross his legs again to hide his reaction from you, but his concentration was breaking and his eyes kept revisiting your lips, your neck and chest, his mind toying with all sorts of inane, dangerous questions.

Like, what would it be like to kiss you? Or, how would it feel to have those lips wrapped around his…

Absentmindedly, like it has done countless times before, his hand reached for his crotch to adjust himself. Only when it was already too late did he realise, to his horror, that the gesture was in no sense of the word discreet and that his train of thoughts was probably an open book for you.

Unsurprisingly, your voice waned and an awkward silence stretched between you two.

Still keeping his legs cautiously crossed, Izuku cleared his throat and commented matter-of-factly, like nothing happened, “Wow, look at the time. I better get going.”

He had no idea how was he going to stand up without revealing a tent in his pants, praying that the swelling went away, bargaining with himself.

“Please, just let me leave this place with dignity and I will take care of this on the nearest rooftop!”

“Thank you for the meal and hospitality,” he was buying himself time, hoping for a miracle, yawning with exaggerated gestures, “Oh, I can’t wait to get some sleep.”

“Are you sure about that?” you asked in an unconvinced tone, making him flinch. Your eyes were not on his face, but on his crotch, and he instinctively covered himself with both hands.

“Umm, sorry about that,” Izuku’s voice was thin and weak, miserable because his shameful need was so evident for you to see. If embarrassment could cause people to evaporate, he would be a goner.

„It's alright,“ you said in a low voice, moving in closer and intently studying his facial expression. Deciding you had nothing to lose, you conspiratorially whispered a risky proposal „I can help with that.“

His mouth only quivered in response, but his unblinking eyes intensely begged to be released from this sweltering tension. At this point, all the moral codes in the world would not make him stop you if you decided to touch him. Maybe he could be improper, just once, forget about what would All Might do and follow his own desire instead.

Slowly, he let his hands fall down to his sides.

The long, indecisive moment, while your fingers hovered in the air above him, was pure torture. To his apprehension and gratitude, your hand reached out all the way and lightly rested on his bulge, your eyes never wavering from his, gauging his reaction.

Izuku's lips slightly parted and his hips inched forward to press against your touch in a knee-jerk reaction, a response you were hoping for, while his gaze – the fraction of him that still retained a grain of sense – remained fixated on your face. You could discern a mix of turbulent emotions in his green orbs that were both wide with lust and trembling with unease. You could also feel an impatient twitch of a solid erection beneath your palm.

You knew that Deku was reputed as one of the 'knight-like' heroes; one of those upstanding figures who never cursed, resorted to dirty tricks or whose names were never marred by scandals, so you wondered could it possibly be that he was really as untainted as he seemed. Could it be that his clumsy smiles and the geeky demeanour he displayed when he was not faced with an eminent threat were truly genuine?

You found the idea of having such a chaste man lying needily on your couch, a hero of countless battles defeated by his own carnal desire and your light touch, incredibly hot. The pair of big, silent eyes that expectantly looked up at you, following your every movement, his flushed cheeks and moist, half-open lips encouraged you to test the hardness of his bulge with your fingers once again. A pleading groan that escaped Izuku’s throat was all the impulse you needed to proceed.

Your hands made short work of his belt buckle while Izuku passively laid back, letting you fully take control. When you pulled his pants and boxer briefs halfway down his thighs, his dick raised its ruddy, blunt tip in a grateful salute, finally free of its confinement. Your fingers gently ran up and down its smooth length, getting familiar with its shape and girth, intrigued by its size. When you finally took a hold of it, it fit nicely into your fist and, by Izuku’s impatient stirring, you were reassured that your caress felt good to him too.

The hero was observing you undress him with a growing apprehension towards your reaction when you see his dick, but the blissful feeling that washed over him when you finally squeezed it temporarily erased all insecurities. He let his head fall back on a cushion, abandoning reason, capitulating. Closing his eyes, he decided to ignore the strange circumstances he was in, focusing instead on the elation that grew inside of him with every tug of your hand.

Oh, how he needed this.

You smeared thick drops of precum across the tip of his cock, impressed by its hardness. You have barely touched him and he was already ready to blow – you could tell by the way his pumped-up flesh quivered even after minimal friction. How hungry for an orgasm was this man really? You ran your fist a few times alongside his length and stopped, to see him tremble and try to push himself into your hand, so close to the finish line. You repeated the sequence, edging him again, until he mewled against his will, his brow knotting in frustration.

When you teased him again, taking him close to the edge just to deny him pleasure at the last second when he was already bracing for the explosion, one of Izuku’s hands instinctively shot up but he stopped himself from touching you at the last moment. His fingers hovered there, so close to yours that you could feel the body heat they generated, while your fist slowly pumped up and down his slick erection. He craved to take the matters into his own hand and finish this promptly because he felt he was going insane, but that would be no different to what he usually did when he was playing with himself. He wanted you to take him there.

One of his eyes opened slightly. “Please,” he mouthed, his hot fingertips gently touching your curled fist. Your own cheeks burned and desire made your core pulsate greedily as your eyes took in his face, his body, his dick.

You stopped again after a few tantalising strokes, making Izuku’s face twist in agony one more time, both of you breathing heavily. You abandoned your role of an impartial civilian who was only helping a kind hero in need. You were invested and getting more and more so. When your other hand cupped his balls and a faint wheeze came from his throat as a response, you felt your core clench.

As your hand started working again, all you wanted to do was sit on his lap and fuck his and your own brains out. The cock in your hand started tightening and Izuku’s body tensed, but you halted again just as he was tethering on the verge. This time he couldn’t control himself and his sweaty palm shakily clasped your hand, his eyes opening in a pleading request.

“Please,” this time his voice was clearer, desperate, “Please, let me go all the way.”

His open, unguarded expression alone sent quivers down your spine and ignited your lower belly. You bit your lip and lustfully arched your back, sensing that you too were sweating beneath your clothes. It got way too hot in here. A gentle grip of his fingers reminded you of his need.

Even when your hand started pumping again, he didn’t remove his fingers from yours, maintaining the connection while he descended into the abyss. Izuku thought that his heart was going to burst from the climax which released all the pent-up energy his body struggled to contain. 

„Aaaahhhh...Fuck!“ he moaned urgently just before all his muscles tensed in a knotting spasm. With open admiration you watched his dick turn into a geyser that sprayed copious amounts of hot cum all over Izuku’s stomach and chest, where it puddled in white clumps. While your fingers still clasped his deflating dick, you realised you just made Mr. Goody Two-shoes utter a swear word.

You cocked your head curiously, admiring the sight in front of you with a smile of faint triumph.  And awoken, gnawing hunger. If you shot a photo now, tabloids and fans would pay good money for it, especially since – to your knowledge – it would be the first time Deku was caught with his pants down. Literally. However, that was not the kind of exploitation of the current situation that you had in mind.

Izuku still breathed heavily, prostrated on your sofa, slowly coming to his senses. While his body was still floating on a surge of hormones, his sobering mind knew he had done something very, very bad and equally irreversible. He blinked rapidly, feeling his cheeks burn with the new heat – the one from embarrassment. Although he had just recently met you, he wanted to become closer to you, but he dreaded that the impression he was leaving was abysmal. When he recalled how humiliating his begging was… and how quickly he was spent… and how he just blew his load all over the place …

“I-I am terribly sorry,” he stuttered, gingerly propping himself up on elbows, careful not to smear any of his cum around and looking like a guilty puppy, “Did I get it on your couch?”

You slowly stood up, returned with clean tissues and kneeled next to him. The scent of his body stirred something in you. Your lower lip throbbed from the force of your own bite and it was not the only pulsating sensation you felt at the moment.

“It’s fine even if you did,” you said in a calming voice while wiping his hero suit clean. You could feel taut muscles beneath and yearned to sense them pressed against your own body. Izuku allowed you to take care of the mess without a protest, relaxing a little, all the while searching for the right words.

“Thanks,” he finally whispered, unable to think of anything more suitable in this situation. What was the correct code of conduct for something like this anyway?

The bitterish aftertaste that accompanied his previous trysts filled his chest again and Izuku’s mind was feverishly working, trying to figure out how to fix this. He really, really wanted to see you again, but was terrified of even hinting at that.

His flaccid dick was still exposed and just as he was awkwardly reaching for it to stuff it in his pants and out of sight, your hand beat him to it. You took your time to meticulously clean the folds of the foreskin with a tissue, your eyes and fingers completely absorbed in the task, while casually commenting “You know… you can stay for the night. If you want to.”

Izuku thought he must have heard you wrong and kept his mouth shut. He couldn’t trust his stupid wishful thinking!

You could sense him stir in silent surprise beneath your hands and, after a disheartening pause, gathered the courage to finally meet his gaze. Why wasn’t he saying anything? What will he think of you?

There was something in his eyes; a strong, quiet resolve blooming under their jittery surface while he studied your face. It was you who fought to keep an eye contact this time. It took a while, but when his lips eventually moved, his voice was firm, filling you with a sense of security. He was the pro hero, after all.

“Are you sure?”

You nodded and he completely took you by surprise by leaning forward and, without any hesitation, pressing his lips to yours. They were hot and soft and stumbling and so, so sweet.

It was something he wanted to do all evening and without being able to kiss you, everything you did to him was somehow lacking. And when you kissed him back, there was nothing lacking about this kiss anymore; no, despite its clumsiness, it was just perfect, melting away all his insecurities and doubts. It didn’t feel like he was kissing a stranger at all.

When you eventually broke apart, he still lingered in your personal space. You shared a conspiratorial smile, still uncertain what this all meant. The intimate touch took away a big part of the free-floating awkwardness that had started taking root between you two and you noticed how animated his eyes had become, shining with a warm gleam while he watched you. You liked that. He was still getting flustered, struggling to keep the eye contact, but now his actions seemed to be purposeful.

Like when his fingers lightly caressed your cheek, as if he wanted to make sure you were real.

“There’s even a dessert, yay,” Izuku whispered a joke with a charming smile. There was a mischievous spark in his heavy-lidded eyes when he moved in to kiss you again. He didn’t rush it, taking his time to fully enjoy in your lips.

He found he was not tired at all anymore.

THE END? 

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