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There were many things that Izuku did that he should be ashamed of. Probably. Maybe. Most definitively. And one of those things was the locked room in his HPSC paid apartment covered in newspaper, polaroids and copious amounts of red string.
Luckily, nobody knew the room existed so the only shame he felt was internal, and honestly Izuku was so used to ignoring that that it wasn't an issue.
Win.
If anybody had actually known Izuku as a friend from childhood to pro hero, they would likely already know the answer of who his favorite hero was. But that also involved a two hour discussion on what the exact definition of 'hero' was, the three different definitions of 'favorite' and then followed up with another hour dithering before, as always, ending up on one singular individual.
Eraser.
Which, technically, didn't fit most people's idea of hero. Most would consider him a villain, evil, selfish, killer. And, as a hero himself, Izuku had a responsibility to not encourage acts of villainy.
All of which was discounting the fact that Izuku had found, investigated and then broken into Eraser's place of residence. And Izuku knew he had faults, he wasn't perfect, he had flaws and he sometimes acted without thinking through the consequences.
However.
Izuku knew his strengths and from his surveillance (of which he did for three months, shorter than he wanted but longer than most other people), Eraser absolutely should not have been home. Either Izuku had thrown off his schedule as he noticed the surveillance, or Izuku really should have waited another three months to nail down his routine.
All he'd wanted was a shirt. Or maybe a hoodie. Could have settled even for a hand towel. Just something, anything, with a scent on it or that had been touched by him. Which is, admittedly, why Eraser had found him hiding in the closet where he had panicked a little and forgotten most of his training because good gods, Izuku felt scent drunk and a little loopy from the heady rush of Eraser.
But instead of getting gutted and thrown into the dumpster below, Izuku was tied up. He was immobile, restrained in Eraser's capture scarf, hanging from the ceiling. The tightly wound heft of Eraser's iconic capture weapon on his arms was doing almost as much work making him lightheaded as hanging upside down was, honestly. And he was choking on Eraser's cock.
He was in heaven.
His fingers were starting to go numb, the arch of his foot was cramping, and the black spots were starting to tunnel. But he'd never been so fuzzy, so molten and so goddamn wet.
Every time Eraser pulled back enough for Izuku to heave in another gasp of air, he could feel his limbs tingle. Could feel himself jerk against his bonds because he was so close and he wanted to touch and feel and-
And then Eraser would thrust back in, bully himself down Izuku's throat and all he could do was take it, take it and feel his eyes roll back. Feel his body strain toward and away. Feel his throat spasm and preen at the cut off grunts it elicited.
By the time Eraser had pulled back and dropped him from the ceiling, Izuku was soaked. Soaked and fuzzy and hazy and feeling the best he'd ever felt. Even the short drop onto the floor wasn't enough to knock any of that away.
So Izuku sprawled, limbs loose and mouth slack. Eyes glassy as he lazily tracked Eraser's movements.
There was a part of Izuku, a small part fostered by his experiences growing up, that screamed at him. Screamed at him that he wasn't safe, he wasn't in control and that he was putting his life in someone else's hands. Someone else's hands that he knew had no compunction about murder and violence. And all Izuku could really do, was hazily think that was okay, actually. If Eraser wanted to kill Izuku after this. If he wanted to cut his losses, cut Izuku's throat and toss him away.
Well.
Izuku might just die happy at that point. If Eraser thought he deserved to die, well maybe he had done something wrong. Or maybe Eraser just had a magical dick because even now, watching him strip off his gear, Izuku didn't feel any fear. Not when the curved knife came out to play, carefully cutting his clothes off in between the strands of capture cloth. Not when rough hands tugged at those tattered pieces. And not when those rough hands grabbed and pressed and manhandled him onto his knees.
If Izuku was any less fucked out he might have been embarrassed about the obscene pose Eraser tugged him into, but all he could feel was a droning static. Head fuzzy and thoughts slowed, only able to focus on the pressure against his knees, the cut of the capture weapon into his biceps and thighs.
Normally Izuku would have to bite his lip bloody to keep his thoughts inside. Usually he needed to spend his whole focus on keeping those words succinct and short and not rambling. But here, with calloused hands sliding down his flank, cupping his ass and dropping to his soaked cunt, blissful silence. Soft gasps and gentle whines were his only voice and from the deep hums he could hear (and sometimes feel) from Eraser, that wasn't a bad thing.
So Izuku, drifted.
He felt thick fingers swipe against his clit and relaxed further into the floor, the rough pile scratching at his cheek and forcing an eye closed. His thighs were nudged further apart and he could feel the tacky slick all the way down to his knees now.
He absently thought about a thank you card to his team medic forcing them all to drink enough water because he definitely needed it now, before a moan punched it's way out with the sudden thrust of a thick finger inside him. And the slow part was over as Eraser started pistoning first one finger and then two and then three and-
Izuku was drooling on the carpet, little gasps and hitching whines spilling from his mouth, when he felt his core spasm. He'd never reached the cliff this fast before. He'd also never been edged with upside down face fucking either, but-
He couldn't help the way he squirmed, tears mixing with the drool down his face as a steely hand pressed down on his lower back and made him stay still. Between the rapid fire fingering and the blatant show of strength Izuku cracked open. He felt his body seize and his limbs shake, but it was muted. His vision was spotty and he felt cut open, flayed out and simultaneously like he was being burned alive and flying through the clouds.
Even by himself he'd never cum so hard.
When the ringing in his ears abated, he realized he'd been rubbing his cheek against the floor and trying to jerk his hips back into the fingers still lodged inside him. Eraser had stopped thrusting, but was now, Izuku wasn't sure, but it felt like, petting? Eraser was petting the inside of his cunt with the tips of his fingers.
Izuku couldn't help the twitch and clench that caused even if he couldn't move his hips back. Or the punched out moan when Eraser twisted those same fingers and started tapping on his g-spot. The speed at which Eraser was able to play his body and have him already teetering on another cliff, staring down at the hazy waves of ecstasy was nothing short of astounding.
Just as shocking was the twist of Eraser's wrist just on the edge of too painful and Izuku's world went white. He wasn't sure if he screamed, shouted, went silent. All he knew when the world came back into focus was that his body was shaking like he had just finished a marathon, he mouth was dry and he could feel his slick on his fucking calves now.
The little pleased hum from behind him had another spasming jerk of his thighs and cunt push out even more slick and then he felt Eraser take his whole hand and cup his entire mound. Fingertips rolling his clit and heel grinding against his leaking opening. Another shorter, softer orgasms rolled through his body like a gentle tide. Locking and releasing his muscles as he rocked his hips as much as possible against that rough hand.
With a final flick toward his clit, Eraser removed his hand and Izuku knew it was only the tight bonds of the capture weapon that kept him upright. He was exhausted, tingly, lead limbed. But he was also amped up, shivery and craving more and more-
Even after three fingers (or four? Honestly Izuku wasn't sure) the head of Eraser's cock felt massive as it slid across his folds and bumped against his clit. Izuku was pinned against the floor in full now, both of Eraser's solid hands on his shoulders. He could feel the drips of sweat falling on his back and mixing with his own, could feel the barest hint of each exhale from Eraser.
The first thrust, the head didn't catch and the harsh glide against his clit had Izuku whining and clenching on nothing. The second did catch and Izuku had to fight not to clench too tightly as he felt the swollen tip bully it's way inside him. The sudden stretch of his body releasing and accepting the intrusion gave Izuku another soft orgasm even as Eraser thrust his entire cock inside in one careful movement of his hips.
The combination of whatever whine, moan and gasp that left his mouth didn't even sound human to Izuku, but all he could focus on was how Eraser was carving out a place for himself inside Izuku. He had taken that same cock in his mouth, he knew it wasn't too big for his body to handle. But it still felt like it was splitting Izuku in two. The hazy edge of pain mixed with the waves of ecstasy had Izuku rhythmically clenching his walls just to feel how big it was.
And the bitten off grunts from Eraser was just icing on top because every one make Izuku shiver and clench again, repeating the cycle.
After another tiny crest Izuku could feel the bunching of Eraser's muscles, the hands forcing Izuku face down shifting until he had one large hand on the nape of his neck. The other sliding down his shoulders to his lower back, pushing him into a higher arch, ass out.
The first true thrust had Eraser directly nailing his g-spot and Izuku choked out a yell as it hurtled him into another orgasm. He might have squirted again, he wasn't sure as Eraser finally let out the first non bitten off, muffled moan of the encounter and Izuku was gone, he wanted more of that. More gruff panting and moans and-
The hitches in Eraser's movements every time Izuku spasmed had him squirming as much as he could between the solid grip on his nape and the iron pressure Eraser was putting on his low back. He might have even started giggling between gasps at the thought that he was going to stain the carpet with the amount he was leaking, sure even without looking that there was a puddle.
Eraser's thrusts were so measured and smooth, and always hit with such accuracy on Izuku's g-spot that at some point he lost count of his orgasms. He knew it blew past his own personal record of self play, but that was it. And every time Izuku came Eraser would dig his fingers in, causing Izuku to hurtle ever closer to another.
It might have been after number six (estimate, again, he lost count but gods he hoped Eraser didn't) that Izuku thought he started babbling. He was drowning in pleasure, over sensitivity, pain. All of it finally breaking through the haze that had kept him quiet. The first keen that might have contained words, Eraser thrust in and ground against him, resulting in yet another squirting orgasm.
After that Izuku could feel his lips curl around words, but his head was full of ringing and making sure he was breathing in enough to stay awake through the best dicking of his life. And if he focused on how full Eraser was stuffing him, he wasn't listening to how embarrassingly wet he sounded. The squelching and wet slaps almost louder than his own gasps and whines.
Izuku almost missed the change in pace, but not the movement of the hand on his back reaching around to pinch his clit instead. If he hadn't of been bound so tightly and pressed so hard against the floor he would have thrown Eraser off with how much he thrashed. The most powerful one of the day rocked through him and he thought he might have actually passed out, he definitely knew he lost time as he blinked dazedly at the wall, Eraser's thrusts shaking his whole body.
Throughout the whole encounter, neither had said a word to each other. Izuku because he knew he had a tendency to keep talking and by the gods he wasn't going to fuck up getting fucked by The Eraser. Izuku wasn't sure why Eraser didn't talk, but he wasn't about to demand answers and honestly, he didn't mind.
The growl Eraser let out as he changed from powerful, charged thrusts to shorter rolls of his hips made Izuku reconsider. Especially as it triggered another crest of his own. Feeling the shorter thrusts turn into rabbit quick humps, Eraser plastering his chest to Izuku's back, hearing the pants and growls in his ear as he reached his own end.
Well-
Izuku was reconsidering as that deep growl combined with the molten hot feeling of cum filling his cunt was too good to let go. He could only shiver and milk Eraser's cock at the mere idea of hearing filthy, dirty praises from Eraser's lips as he pulled orgasm after orgasm from Izuku's wrung out body.
And as he finally recovered his breath, muscles trembling in exertion and eyes clearing up, feeling sticky and dirty and downright filthy covered in cum and tears and Eraser's cum, he felt the barest brush of dry lips on his nape. Felt the scratch of stubble and a slight nip on his ear.
"Only got to 16 , I think you could go for more," it rumbled deep and easy, almost lazily, directly into Izuku's ear. And immediately shot directly down to his core where he flexed directly on Eraser's softening cock, getting a lovely twitch against his raw walls.
As Eraser flipped him over and Izuku saw for the first time how flushed and wild eyed he looked, he thought he might have died tonight after all. Especially once Eraser bodily lifted his hips and made Izuku balance on his shoulders to start licking his own cum out of his messy cunt.
His eyes rolled back on the harsh suck against his clit, gushing yet more slick for Eraser to lick out of him.