Just…why?? 🥺😭

🥰🥰

Masterlist

As requested, here is a masterlist of everything I have posted so far! ❤

Because it needs to be said, no one has my permission to translate or repost my fics anywhere.

Key:

🔥 - smut

❤ - fluff

💀 - angst (always with a happy ending because I am soft)

💫 - my favorites

Keep reading

Hey could you do a mha smut with aizawa x female reader x shinso please. Thank you l also love you work

Private Lessons

Summary: Even as a Pro Hero Shinso Hitoshi goes to his sensei for advice on everything...even you.

Warnings: NSFW. 18+ only. Minors DNI. Aged-up Characters, use of (Y/N)—SORRY, threesome (mmf), fingering, oral (f and m receiving), inexperienced!reader, sexually ignorant!reader, slightlyinexperienced!Shinso, experienced!Aizawa, talks about safe sex and consent (very sexy, very necessary), talks about mental health and sex, safe words, lessons on sex, insecurity, talks of issues in the bedroom, issues with completion (it happens ladies, it's normal), unprotected sex (wrap it up people!), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, past ShinKami, pet names (princess, babygirl, whore), sir kink, slight daddy kink, power play, double penetration, light choking (?). Please let me know if I forgot anything! Hope you enjoy and remember to show some love by liking, commenting, and reblogging!

Word Count: 5.6k

Shinso looks like absolute shit. Sleep has been evading him lately, not that this was anything new, but the problem had worsened recently. And apparently, Aizawa had noticed. Shota watches him drain the nausea-inducing Irish coffee, the drink loaded with an indeterminable amount of sugar supplements. Aizawa is a caffeine lover and an advent alcohol drinker—way to sound like a fellow sleep-deprived alcoholic—but the sight before him just seemed too pitiful for a late-night patrol. He couldn't keep quiet anymore.

"Y'know, it's the shit-ton of sugar in your coffee there that give you the mind-numbing headaches, not the alcohol."

Hitoshi isn't even phased by the obvious callout to his drinking while on duty. The twenty-two-year-old just lets out a soft huff before taking another swig of his nearly depleted beverage. "Gonna let the Hero Commission know, partner?"

"Not my style, kid," Shota says, ignoring the pang of anger and hurt at the questioning of his loyalties.

"Not a kid anymore, old man," Hitoshi reminds, swirling the nonexistent remains of his drink.

"Really?" Aizawa questions, arms crossing and voice dropping into that teacher tone of his. "Then why are you throwing a tantrum like one?" Shinso, at least, has the decency to look ashamed then. He digests the words, a hand pressing into his forehead and then dragging down his sullen face. "The hell is going on with you, Hitoshi?"

The young man hesitates, weighing how much he wishes to divulge to his mentor, hero partner, and friend. "It's...it's (Y/N)." Aizawa raises an eyebrow at that.

"I thought everything was fine?" Shota muses thoughtfully. "You seemed to really like her."

"I do," Hitoshi snaps desperately before lulling into a softer, measured tone. "I do. I really like her—love her, actually. It's just..."

Aizawa has some impressive tolerance from his years of teaching, but this moment, the suspense of waiting, could dismantle the reputation that he had acquired as a patient man. "Just what, Hitoshi?"

"We're having some issues in the bedroom," he finally blurts out. He says it so quickly that Shota nearly misses what is uttered by the younger man. When the words connect to their meanings in his mind his head shakes as if he'd been slapped with the sentence.

"What?" The question leaves his lips unnecessarily; he already knows what was said.

Hitoshi groans in place of an answer. "Please don’t make me repeat it." Shota only rolls his eyes at the immaturity of it all. How can this boy give you the pleasure you need if he can’t even convey his problem without a tinge of embarrassment on his cheeks?

"So what are you doing wrong then?" The older man asks plainly.

"Why do you assume I’m doing something wrong?" Aizawa’s brow raises. "Okay, yeah, it’s me." Too easy.

"So what are you lacking in the bedroom?"

"Woah, hey," Hitoshi defends. "I’m not ‘lacking’ anything, okay? Everything works and is in great shape. So get that out of your head."

"Wasn’t thinking that until just now." Shinso only rolls his eyes, but his blush and the grumble bubbling in his throat betray him. “Kid, you’re not gonna fix the issue unless you talk about it and I’m not gonna play this guessing again for both of our sakes. So just tell me."

"I can’t make her cum." Oh. Not what Shota was expecting but not a completely unexpected answer. "And now she thinks she’s broken or some shit 'cause she can’t and I didn’t really help with that…I’m just a big fucking mess really."

Aizawa nods thoughtfully, taking a moment to think about this carefully before offering any advice. He can work with this. It’s easier than trying to retrain Hitoshi if his issue was more of a premature one. "It may just be a mental thing for both of you. How responsive is she usually? Is it just that she’s struggling during penetrative sex or can she not cum when you go down on her too?" Aizawa is in total teacher mode, uncaring about the awkwardness of the conversation and ignoring that he’s encouraging locker room discussion with a former student and aiding in the affairs of his closest mentee. Maybe some would consider this to be unethical, but Shota thought that once you’ve dodged death alongside a person, regardless of age or a former student-teacher relationship, the perception of professionalism goes out the window and is replaced with something slightly more concrete: friendship. And his friend needed help. How could Shota say no to that?

However, Hitoshi shouldn’t be looking so sheepish. His eyes avoid Shota’s and his face retreats into the capture weapon around his neck. "Ah, well…I haven’t really gone down on her…"

The older man stops, looking at his mentee with an air of bewilderment. "Excuse me?"

"I—look, I’m just not sure—"

"You’ve been with her for months now," he interrupts. "You haven’t gone down on the poor girl once?"

"Isn’t it obvious that I’m not sure what I’m doing?" He exasperated. "I was only with Denki before, so the anatomy is a bit different." His arms cross and a scowl takes over his features and suddenly Aizawa sees the lost and confused kid he first met in the hallowed halls of U.A. The kid he swore to help in any way he needed.

"Look, maybe I could help you," his gruff voice offers before common sense can catch up to him.

"Help me how exactly?"

"Hey, Hito, I’m home!" You call out to your boyfriend as you enter your shared apartment, armfuls of groceries in hand. "Hope you’re hungry," you say as you slip out of your shoes and into the house slippers, the bags juggling precariously in your grasp. "I’m making my specialty honey walnut shrimp! There should be plenty for you to pack for tomorrow." You make your way through your home, plopping the groceries on the kitchen counter as you start unloading the food. You notice the bedroom light on and assume he’s in there as you continue talking. "And I can pack extra if ‘Zawa wants some too. He eats just about as much as you do so both of your bentos better be empty, got it?"

"I’m flattered that you think of me," a gruff voice interrupts the one-way conversation, your shoulders jumping up with the sound. Turning you find just the devil leaning against the doorframe, dark eyes staring at you through darker locks.

"Geez, Mr. Aizawa, you scared me!" You pant dramatically, a hand pressed over your heart. His eyes glance down at the motion before chuckling softly.

"How many times have I told you, kid?" He asks nonchalantly, pushing off the frame and walking towards you leisurely, hands buried in his pockets. "Call me Shota."

You respond with a mock salute and a sarcastic "Yes, sir." Shota decidedly ignores the hint of sass you throw his way and only acknowledges your words with a slight hmph. "So, where is my sleepless beauty?"

"Bedroom," he answers shortly and nods in the direction of the room's entrance. "He needs to talk to you. I’ll deal with the groceries."

"Shota, I can’t let you put the groceries away," you wave him off. "You’re a guest."

"Hmm…just go talk to your boy, okay?" He not-so-subtly urges you away from the bags of food on your kitchen counter in favor of shoving you in the direction of your shared bedroom. You relent and invite yourself into the room, curiosity overtaking your hostess skills.

"Hito?" Your lavender-haired boyfriend pokes his head out of your bathroom, towel-dried hair sticking up at odd angles and skin still prickled in beads of his evident shower. In lieu of a simple greeting, you're met with a set of arms wrapping around your torso, your body lifts into the air and is spun while you’re being smothered with kisses. You’re sent into a fit of giggles until he reluctantly pulls away, his face hovering mere millimeters away from yours. "Hi to you too."

He offers a barely there smile before his lips quirk down again, a serious expression overtaking his features. "Hey, can I talk to you about something?"

"Does it have to do with ‘Zawa being in our kitchen?" You guess. He shrugs.

"Sorta." He pulls you toward the bed and takes a seat on the edge, dragging you down to sit next to him. "We need to talk about…our sex life."

"Oh." You breathe in deeply through your nose. "What does that have to do with—"

"I’ll get to that part," he assures softly, grasping your hands in his. You take the opportunity to stare down at your joined hands, watching the way his thumbs circle into the joints of your smaller hands. "Look, I know that our sex life hasn’t been the best." Your head snaps up to him at that, your mouth ready to conjure up a thousand excuses but he holds his hand up to silence all of them. "No, it’s okay. We need to air that out so we can work on getting better," he whispers gently. The hand he had raised comes down to gently cup your cheek and bring your forehead to rest against his. "I know that you haven’t been finishing and that’s not fair. We gotta fix that."

"I’m sor—"

"Nope," he interrupts, shaking his head and pulling you into his lap. You allow yourself to be cradled in his arms, tucking your head into the crook of his neck. "Nope. Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault."

"But it's not about you, really!" you sigh. "I don't know what's wrong with me...I can’t finish with or without your help…and I don't understand why."

"Hey," he softly soothes, those slender fingers carding through your locks and gently scratching your scalp. "It’s okay. Listen, do you trust me?" You nod softly into him, cuddling further into his embrace until he gingerly pulls you apart from him to look into your eyes. "We gotta sort this out…and I think we need help from someone more experienced than us." Your brow furrows in thought and then you remember that Aizawa is in your apartment at this moment, and your brows shoot up and your eyes widen.

"You mean…"

"Yeah," he breathes out, a callused palm pressing to your jaw and a rough thumb softly brushing over your cheek. "He kinda noticed my mood drop lately…and we got to talking…I think he could help. He’s definitely wiser than we are." He chuckles in an attempt to lighten the mood but you only stare on, expression not giving anything away to the roaring thoughts thundering through your head. "We don’t have to. One word from you and we stop this. Pretend it never even happened."

"But…you want to do this?" You ask cautiously, studying the purple of his irises.

"Yes," he answers. There’s no wavering, no hesitation. "This and whatever else it takes to make you happy." His hand curls on the back of your neck and pulls you in for a slow kiss, one that sends a bolt of shivers down your spine. When he pulls away a breath's width apart your eyes remain closed momentarily. Your head feels fuzzy already, but you still allow your lashes to flutter apart. You look into fields of lavender as you grant an affirming nod. His lips quirk up and he starts towards the door. You run cool fingers over your flushed face and knead tense muscles on your neck as Hitoshi offers your guest entry. And when you look up a set of dark eyes accompany the familiar lilac.

Shota enters cautiously but plays it off as nonchalant, eyes drifting around the bedroom. When his gaze falls on you once again, your breath catches and the rouge of your cheeks darkens, your own eyes averting. You barely catch Aizawa turning towards Shinso, asking, "You've both talked about this?" Hitoshi nods. At the confirmation, Shota glides towards you, dropping to his knees and looking up at your shy face when he reaches the edge of the bed. "You both agree?" His dark eyes study you as you give a timid nod. A calloused hand cups your chin gently, the pad of his thumb swiping over your bottom lip, coaxing your lips to part. His pupils dance between your fluttering lashes and your plush lips, his voice dropping to a low, honeyed tone. "You understand what this all entails?" You nod. "Words, princess."

"Yes," you breathily say. The way the word leaves your lips drips with a sense of pure need. Your eyes follow the man at your feet as he stands, towering over you with a firm grip on your jaw.

"Then we should discuss a few rules," he says as his fingers trace over the buttons of his shirt, popping the fastenings slowly.

"Rules?" Hitoshi asks as he kicks off the wall and strolls to the bed; another imposing figure looming over you now. But you don't mind feeling so small among these men.

"Yeah," the older man murmurs, dark eyes never leaving your frame resting atop the duvet. "Rules. Gotta have them for what we're about to do here." Lilac irises meet the onyx orbs of their former teacher, a message clear in the gaze. "These rules are designed to establish trust, make sure everyone is comfortable, and to keep constant communication. That way we won't risk...overstepping boundaries. Understood?"

Hitoshi gives a tiny nod and your mouth moves before you even realize it, a small, "Yes, sir," escaping your lips. You miss the smirk curling Aizawa's lips but your boyfriend certainly doesn't. And he starts to wonder if his mentor's offer was as selfless as he originally thought.

"Rule one. Safe words. We’ll start easy. Have either of used the traffic light system?"

"No."

"Yes." You turn a shocked gaze over to your boyfriend, intrigue tickling your mind at his confirmation. "With...Kaminari. We’d use the traffic light system. Green for continue, that everything is good. Yellow for slow down. Red for full stop." Your mouth subtly drops into an ‘O’ at the acknowledgment. Your mind momentarily races with the imagined images of what your boyfriend and his ex could’ve used such a system for in the bedroom. That familiar insecurity itched at the back of your mind with the thought.

"Red." You look up at Aizawa, confused. He kneels down then, meeting your eye carefully. "I know what you're thinking, so stop it. That insecurity shit is useless. I can see it all over your face." You blush at the light scolding and catch a glimpse of Hitoshi and the hint of guilt falling upon his features. You knew he had more experience than you, and you didn't hold that against him, of course. But the pang of your own lack of experience and the reminder did sting. Rough fingertips grip your chin gingerly, keeping your gaze focused on your former teacher. "Sex is not just physical. It’s mental, emotional. Maybe the reason that you’re having problems is because you’re letting your insecurities get in the way. We’ll fix that."

The button-up that has been draped precariously over the older man's frame finally falls from his shoulders. You shuffle back against the bed as Hitoshi steps forward, your boyfriend chasing and crawling over you. His hands softly push you back, your back meeting the mattress as his lips hover over yours. That is until calloused fingers tangle into lavender locks and tug back, sending his back into an arch against his mentor. "Rule number two," the thick lilt of his voice breathes against Hitoshi's ear. "I'm in charge. You both listen to me. Whatever I say, you do. Understand?"

You and Hitoshi let out a collective, "Yes, sir."

Shota smirks at both of your immediate compliance. "Good. Then the last rule: honesty. No matter what, we have to be honest. That means stopping this if anyone is uncomfortable. I don't care how far we go." You both agree again. "Let's get started then." He turns to Hitoshi, a new form of excitement clear in his gaze. "Strip." You don't miss the glint in Hitoshi's eyes as he tugs the black tee over his head, but you only get a glimpse as a calloused hand gently coaxes you to lay back on the bed. Long fingers scrape past the hem of your pants, the fabric dragging over your skin. You hear the plop of fabric as his hands trace your figure underneath your shirt. Goosebumps are left in the wake of his touch and you nearly jump out of your skin with the introduction of a second set of cool fingers dipping under your panties. You'll have to get used to the feeling of four hands on your body. It didn't take long for you to be completely bare before the two men, the both of them following suit shortly after. You keep your gaze glued to the cream-colored ceiling above you, enjoying the feeling of the hands and lips pressing and digging into your skin, drowning out any of your other senses.

"Touch yourself." The voice is so soft, muffled by his mouth pressed into your thigh, that you almost miss it. You giggle softly, the breathless sound bubbling from your throat in surprise.

"What?" You ask as you bring yourself up on your elbows. You meet those onyx eyes that are positioned between your legs, shivering at the sight of the men worshiping your body.

"Did I stutter?" His voice rumbles, pulling away from pressing sloppy kisses into your thigh. His fingers curl into the lilac locks at the base of Hitoshi’s neck, tugging your boyfriend from trailing nips and sucking over your hipbone. "Show us what you like. How else do you expect your boy to learn?"

Your mouth drops into that ‘O’ again, nodding your head in understanding. That bliss from before wearing off with the pressure to perform. Hesitantly, you nod and lay back down. Your fingers find their way between your thighs, circling your clit in quick succession.

"Woah, holy shit, easy tiger," he says, the edge of surprise and shocked amusement in his voice tickling that familiar insecurity again. "Honey, it’s a marathon, not a sprint. No wonder you can’t get to the finish line."

"Am-am I not doing it right…?" His gaze softens at your soft, shy voice, the insecurities rolling off you in waves.

"Aww, you poor thing," he sighs gently, a hint of mirth skirting his tone. "You gotta slow down, princess. Here." His callous fingers grip Hitoshi’s slender digits, his hands used to touch between your folds. The pace starts slow, casually circling your button before slowly dragging over your slit, collecting your slick and spreading the juices. Your eyes flutter closed as a feeling slowly grows at the bottom of your stomach. Hands are moving over your body, a soft caress of feather-like touches over your thighs, trailing down your calves, back over your hips, the gentle brushes rivaling the intensity you feel building in your core. You barely know which hands belong to whom by the time the first finger breaches your entrance, the small intrusion nearly taking your breath away.

You wonder why it’s never felt like this before. How is your former teacher, your boyfriend’s current mentor, so skilled at bringing you to your limits with the simplest touches? Your throat gurgles with the neediest, whiniest moans you’ve ever conjured, but you can’t bring yourself to feel embarrassment over the pure desperation in your voice. All you know at that moment is hands, fingers, lips, sweet touches, soft caresses, the scratch of scruff; all of it accumulating to the hum of an orgasm slowly building deep in your being. Once the pace picks up you realize that you’re truly a goner. And your mouth drops into a silent version of that familiar ‘O’ shape once again.

"See that?" Shota’s gruff voice softly lures you down from your high. You look up to see your release coating Aizawa’s hand, stringing between his fingers. Then your eyes drift down to see your boyfriend as he stares hungrily, mesmerized by the sticky mess pooling between your legs. Then your hazy gaze meets a proud smirk. Shota crawls up the bed to lean down at your side, offering a sweet smile before gently tapping your temple. "You got out of your head and got exactly what you needed. Feel better, princess?"

"Yeah," you breathe out, a small grin dancing at the edge of your lips.

"You just clear your mind," he murmurs, his breath tickling your skin, "and let us take care of you, okay, princess?"

You nod. "Yes, sir—ahh!" You’re cut off by the feeling of a mouth latching to your sopping sex. Your back arches and the moan that leaves your lips nearly drowns the laugh Aizawa lets slip.

"That’s it, Hitoshi," he chuckles. A hand cups the back of his head and tangles into the lavender locks, pushing his head further into your cunt. "Remember, it’s the best fucking feeling when you can’t breathe while eating pussy."

Hitoshi hums out a short snicker, the vibrations shaking your core. His tongue swirls your entrance before repeating a figure-eight motion over your clit. It isn’t long before a finger breaches your entrance.

"Atta boy, ‘Toshi," he encourages, the hand not twisted into purple hair wanders to his own awaiting dick twitching with anticipation. A second finger soon joins the first. "Now don’t just poke the poor girl's insides. Turn your wrist. Palm up. Tap that anterior wall."

"Nghh!"

"Yep. Just like that~"

Your back repels the mattress, your jaw drops and your heart beats outside your chest. Your fingers grip alongside Shota’s in Hitoshi’s hair. A third finger is added, the digits delivering a steady pace of tap, tap, tap on your insides. Your chest heaves with the intensity of your boyfriend’s touch and the oversensitivity of a second finish rearing itself so soon. And your vision goes white, your release rips from your body as your voice goes mute with the winded shock.

"—so good. That’s it, princess. That’s a good girl…"

You blink up at the two men staring down at you, both of them petting and whispering words of encouragement.

"C’mon, sweet girl," Hitoshi whispers, nose nuzzling into the side of your face. You can feel your slick coating his chin, your juices transferring into your skin. You can’t help the breathless giggle that bubbles out of your throat. A shaky hand grips at his chin, drawing him into a gentle kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips. When you both pull away, you turn to the older man by your side. A hesitant hand skims up his thigh while your other cups the back of Shota’s neck, urging him to lean down toward you. When your foreheads meet you press a deep kiss into his lips as a silent thanks. When you pull away, he gives a gentle hum, his eyes remaining closed and enjoying the moment.

"Thank you, sensei," Hitoshi vocalizes. Onyx eyes meet violet, and Shota decides that he prefers the same sort of appreciation that you offered him. So, his hand closes around the other man’s throat, dragging him into a sweet kiss of their own that quickly turns heated.

"Wanna show me how grateful you are, 'Toshi?" He murmurs against his lips. When they separate a minuscule amount of space from one another, you notice your boyfriend's half-lidded eyes and the way his teeth dig into his bottom lip. They stare into one another's eyes for a moment, each weighing their next action. When they dive back into each other in a sloppy kiss, you take the opportunity to make good on Shota’s request for gratitude. The hand resting on his thigh ventures along the taut muscle over the definition of his protruding v-line and continues to trail along the plains of his solid torso. You relish in the shudder that overtakes his body, the breathy gasps that leave his lungs while your boyfriend’s lips journey over the column of his throat. Your delicate touch follows back downward, your nails teasingly scraping down his hairy abdomen as your hand takes his happy trail to find the monster bobbing between his legs. You grip the base, giving an experimental squeeze before stroking his hard cock. You're so emboldened by the hum of satisfaction that escapes him that you don't hesitate to pull yourself onto shaky knees and wrap your lips around the dark red head of his dick. His hips buck into your mouth of their own volition at the suddenness of your hot, wet cavity encompassing him. A meaty hand laces into the hair at the back of your head, nails softly scratching your scalp and encouraging you to keep your place as he gently thrusts back and forth into your welcoming warmth. You stay still like the good girl you are for him until Hitoshi’s finger creep to the back of your neck, and he suddenly pushes you to take every inch down your throat. You sputter around the thick intrusion, your hands grasping at Shota’s thighs as you stare up at him with a watery gaze. Despite the blurry vision and the sound of your gurgling drown everything else out, you don’t miss the way both men chuckle at your surprise. You blink away the tears, the salty substance streaking down your face in the prettiest way, and you don’t move. You refuse to disappoint either of them so instead you take a deep, difficult breath through your nose and start sucking. You’d smirk at the sight of Shota throwing his head back with a broken moan if it weren’t for your lips being stretched by his thick cock.

"Fuck!" He groans, grip tightening. "Good girl! Good fucking girl, princess." Your body lights up at the praise and it seems that you’re not the only one. Your boyfriend presses his throbbing need into your lower back as he leans behind you, his chin resting on your shoulder.

"Never know you were such a praise whore, baby," he whispers huskily. "You like being Shota’s good girl?" You shiver at the mention. He chuckles softly. "I like this look on you. Never knew I’d get off so much to you taking another man’s cock so well. You were fucking made for this. Doing so well that we might have to invite Daddy ‘Zawa back again. You want that, baby?" You nod to the best of your abilities, looking up into Shota’s eyes as you do so. "Then earn it, babygirl." With that final piece of encouragement, Hitoshi’s fingers curl onto the front of your throat, pressing into Shota’s cock through your skin. You swallow around his member, causing the man in your mouth to tremble at the feeling. His dick pulses in your mouth, so close to his finish line, but before you can taste his release, the fingers laced in your hair pull you off of him.

"Easy, princess, don’t wanna finish just yet" he sighs, voice winded. "Hitoshi, on your back." Hitoshi follows directions easily, situating himself to lay down behind you.

"C’mon, babygirl," Hitoshi whispers to you, his hands landing on your hips and pulling you towards him. "Climb on." You swing a leg over his lap, settling into a comfortable position.

"Hi," you breathe out softly. Hitoshi smiles at you gently, the moment wholesome in the midst of your current debauchery.

"Hi," he murmurs back, leaning forward to tenderly tap the tip of his nose to yours. "You okay?" You nod lightly. It seems that the silent affirmation wasn't very effective as he cups your cheek, steering your gaze to look into his eyes. "Words, babygirl. Give me a color." You playfully roll your eyes.

"Green," you answer. He nods as the hand caressing your cheeks drags through your hair, directing your head to rest in the crook of his neck as his other hand maneuvers your hips up. You feel the second pair of hands on you, one on the other hip and one pressing between your shoulder blades, arching your back beautifully. Your breath catches at the first nudge of Hitoshi's cock swiping through your folds. He swirls the mushroom head over your clit before passing it through your slit, punching the oxygen out of your lungs completely when the red head of his prick penetrates your entrance. Your arms wrap tightly around his neck, your nose pressing into the side of his throat, and inhaling the jasmine and sea salt scent from your body wash—you knew he was stealing it! The smell, however, was calming as you grew used to the intrusion. The hands gripping your hips help you bounce on Hitoshi's cock, setting a slow pace, the speed gradually picking up as you begin to find your rhythm. It doesn't take long for the two of you to become a tangled heap of breathy pants and whiny moans, sweat coating your bodies as you move together. Shota's hands just add to the experience. The movement of his touch keeps you on the edge. They explore your body, trailing a feather-like touch down your spine, his calloused hands cupping the globes of your ass. His fingers knead into the muscles, his thumbs slipping between your cheeks and prodding at your other entrance.

"Color, princess?" He mutters as the tip of his thumb circles your puckered hole delicately.

"Green, sir," you mumble into your boyfriend's chest. The last syllable barely leaves your lips before you feel the pressure of a digit slipping in. The finger pumping into your backside matches the pace that you ride Hitoshi before adding a second, then a third finger. Shota stretches your entrance, his hand on your hip flexing to keep you still as he leans down to lick at your asshole. It was as if Shota and Hitoshi were of one mind. Instead of urging you to bounce on his cock, Hitoshi plants his feet into the matress and pistons his hips into yours, keeping you in place for saliva to spill out of Shota's mouth and slide between your cheeks. The make-shift lube eases the movement of three fingers scissoring your hole before they are gone too soon and replaced by the bulbus head of a leaking cock pressing pass the tight entrance. He starts slowly, glacierly pumping shallow thrust into your body as it gets used to the overwhelming power of two huge cocks penetrating your tiny holes.

You can't help the wanton moan that's punched from your throat. You can't help the way your eyes cross with the building pressure in your core. You can't help the way your nails peel down Hitoshi's shoulder, leaving raised treks and bleeds of blood over his skin. You are merely at the mercy of the men you lie pliant between. The both of them make their own noises and gruff responses but you can’t hear a word, only acknowledging the blood pumping through your ears and your own mewls that drown out any others. You’re close. So fucking close…

Their hips piston in and out of your tight body, their own orgasms pooling in their bellies. But Shota wants to see it, want to watch the fruits of his labors unfold before him. He wraps firm but gentle grasp against your throat, dragging you to sit up and rest against his chest. Your body molds into his as your hands scramble to find purchase on anything. Hitoshi kindly offers his hands to intertwine with your own as he watches his hero partner spear you with both of their cocks, moving your body with his. A calloused hand sneaks down to toy with the bundle of nerves between your folds, circles the pleasure button in quick succession.

"Cum," he commands between gritted teeth. "C’mon, princess, be our good fucking girl and cum all over our cocks." Those onyx eyes meet lavender again and there’s something unspoken in the contact. Something that fans the flame burn in his gut. He’s close. So fucking close…

With a shouting cry of both of their names you burst, hot wetness squirting from between your legs and soaking the body and the sheets beneath you. Hitoshi’s load soon follows, filling your weeping cunt to the brim and leaking around the sides. Your mixed spend froths out as he continues pounding your pillow princess pussy.

Shota’s hand lets go of his grip on your throat, easing your exhausted form down to cuddle with your breathless boyfriend. He gently pulls himself from the suffocating grip your asshole has on him, working his cock to completion, his release shooting on where you and Hitoshi are still joined, his milky cum mixing with the rest. He heaves a relieved sigh as he tumbles onto the bed at your side, scooping the two of you to cuddle closer as the three of you catch your breath.

Hitoshi is the first to break the silence with a winded, "I didn’t know you could squirt." You sigh out a giggle at the astonishment in his voice.

"I didn’t either," you breathe out. You turn your head on Hitoshi’s chest to look at the older man snuggling into both of your bodies. "Thank you."

Those dark eyes fall onto you, a lazy smile peeking out from the corners of his lips. His voice is raw as he whispers out, "My pleasure, princess."

Hitoshi yawns beneath you, the rumble in his chest tickling your skin as he speaks softly, "Can’t wait for our next private lesson."

masterlist

Went ahead and compiled a master list for everyone to find my work a little easier! Hope you enjoy.

Always open to new requests!!

Let me know if you want to be apart of my taglist and stay up to date on my new posts!!

!! - smut 18+

Joe Quinn

Kitchen Dancing

Toddlers and Tiaras

Little Matchmaker

One Lucky Lady

Laundry Day !!

Eddie Munson

Stake My Claim !!

Nice and Easy !!

I had a dream !!

we won't be together but maybe in the next life

Drunk Confessions

I Do It Better !!

Something Sweet !!

Baby Fever

Mark Your Body !!

Distraction !!

Meet The Parents

Bad Liar !! pt 2 !! pt 3 !! pt 4 !! pt 5 !! pt 6 !! pt 7 !!

Take Care of You

Helping Hand !!

I Hate You Sometimes !!

Daddy's Princess !!

Never Had a Chance pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5 !!

Drive Me Wild !!

Fingers !!

Camping Trip !!

Want Me Back !!

Pretty in Pink !!

Lots to Love !!

Cookin Up Feelings !! pt 2 !!

Give it to Me !!

Scary Movies aren't so Bad !!

Lies on the Pages pt 2

What Happens after a Show !!

The Roommate !!

Claiming Innocence: pt 1 !!

Steve Harrington

Backroom Fun !!

Perfect Timing

****

Thanks

Britt :)

💕

Hello, can I get a short fic a/b reader who's dating Deku, but both are unaware that Bakugou likes reader also? Reader isn't a fan of Bakugou and always complains to Deku about how he kisses his ass too much and lets him get away with ish. Reader is definitely more sensitive/indignant than Deku tbh.

*ahem* this took embarrassingly long. But,, here. I like it <3

Bakugou X Reader X Deku

SFW, mild angst

Contains: yelling, insults, implied self harm *briefly at the end, very vauge*, bakudeku if you squint, references of suicide *in refrence to middle school Deku*

    Katsuki Bakugou was not jealous. Bakugou was confident and was going to be a top hero, and top heroes didn’t have time to be jealous. And, above all that, he was not jealous if stupid Deku. 

    Sure, maybe he was mad that dumb Deku got a partner before he did, but it wasn’t personal. Bakugou definitely didn't think about you. He didn’t think about the way your hands would look in his, the way it would look when his much larger arm rested around your waist. He didn’t think about sparring with you all the time, the way your body would look glistening in sweat as you cave him all you had. He only thought about sparring with you because he wanted to kill you, you were just another extra… right?

    But you were soft, delicate even. But, you also were assertive, not all peppy like the other girls. You were always looking for a fight. You wanted to protect people, not just save them. You weren’t afraid to kick Mineta in the balls (both sets), and you weren’t afraid of hero work. You never hesitated to jump into the fight. You were heroic- worth Bakugou’s time. 

It made sense you would like Deku more than him, it made sense Deku would get you. Deku was going to be a pro hero too, and with the way All Might dotes after him, he would be a hell of a hero too. Deku was smart, he was kind, and he was a decent fighter. He was everything that Bakugou wasn't. 

Because to you, Deku was a hero. He was going to save the world one day. But Bakugou was just a villain who managed to fool everyone into letting him be a hero. To you, Deku was kind and caring; Bakugou was just loud and violent. When Deku was emotional, Bakugou was just loud. He was a prick to you, and he knew it-and that destroyed him. 

***

“Hey Kacchan! Come hang out with us tonight!” Deku stood over Bakugou's desk, freckled face glowing as he smiled. Bakugou noticed your presence behind Deku. You were trying to hide your annoyance, Bakugou noticed. 

“No way would I ever hang out with you losers.”

Kirishima grabbed Bakugou’s shoulders, squeezing him playfully. “C’mon Bakugou! It’ll be fun.”

“Fuck off, shitty hair. I’m not going.”

Deku looked defeated. You knew how badly he wanted to hang out with Bakugou again. You didn’t see why of course- Bakugou was a jerk and wasn’t worth your boyfriend’s time. But, alas, you would do anything for the green haired boy.

You gave Bakugou a side glance, “Everyone is going- it would make you lame if you were the only one who missed.”

Bakugou looked at you, both angered and intrigued. “Huh? What did you say to me?” He rose from his seat, leaning around Deku to see you closer.  You looked him in the eyes, not intimidated or threatened. Deku looked vaguely panicked next to the both of you.

“I said you would look like the class loser to skip. It’s just a group hang out, Kacchan.” You teased his nickname, knowing it would set him off. 

Bakugou tried to leap forward to you, sparks setting off from his hands. “Shut up, dumb bitch!” 

You were about to hit him first, before Deku grabbed you to hold you back, his large arms containing you. Kirishima held down Bakugou, having to harden his arms to hold the explosive boy back. 

Deku drug you off somewhere, whispering in your ear in an attempt to calm you down. Kirishima sat Bakugou down. “Dude, you have to accept that she doesn’t like you.”

Bakguou rolled his eyes, looking out the classroom window. He knew you didn’t but he wasn’t going to accept it. 

“You have to move on. It isn’t manly to fight a girl.”

“It’s plenty okay to fight her, she started it!” Bakugou sat down in his seat, mumbling angrily. “and I don't like her- she's just as shitty as all of you extras.” 

Kirishima looked Bakugou up and down, seeing through his bullshit. “Whatever you say, bro.”

Bakugou let out a ‘tch’, thinking back at your interaction. He never wanted to actually hurt you, maybe playfully rough you up, but not genuinely hurt you. He never meant to yell at you either, you clearly preferred softer guys anyway. 

***

“You really shouldn’t fight Kacchan so much-”

You snapped your eyes to Midoriya, blood still boiling. “And why is that?”

“He didn’t do anything.”

“He did everything. He’s a jerk.”

“He’s going to be a hero just like us, Y/N, one of the best-”

“Not with the way he treats people. He’s going to be a shitty hero-”

“Don’t say that. You don’t know Kacchan the way I do.” Midoriya tried to reach for your hand, but you swatted it away. 

“Do you even know him? He bullied you in middle school and was never really your friend as a kid. Honestly, Izuku, I don’t know why you kiss his ass so much, he will never respect you back and is always going to make your life, everyone’s life, hell.”

Midoriya’s jaw dropped at your words, unsure of what to do. You had never been this mad at him, or at anyone. Small fits of anger were a normal occurrence for you, but normally a minute alone and a kiss to the forehead would put you at ease- but this was beyond Midoriya. 

You crossed your arms, walking away from Midoriya. He ran behind you, trying to catch up. 

“Wait, Y/N, you can’t just leave.”

“Yes I can. I can’t be around that blond headed shit stick anymore or I’ll fight him.”

“You would win-”

“Don’t kiss my ass now, Midoriya.”

Midoriya looked to the ground. He really wanted to support you, but he also knew that he respected Kachan. To him, Bakugou was a hero, someone he looked up to. Bakugou was powerful, his quirk was amazing. He had the talent and skills to become a hero. He was someone who demanded authority and respect, he was a talented hero. He was amazing. 

“I’m sorry, just don’t go yet-” he peaked up at you, your body leaning against the wall, head in hands. 

“I won't go anywhere.”

“Good. Perfect.” Midoriya walked to you, pulling you into his chest, wrapping his arms to rest on your waist. He placed soft kisses on your hairline. 

“I’m sorry I got mad.” Your voice was not much more than a mumbled, muffled in his shirt. 

“It’s okay. I’m sorry Kacchan doesn’t listen.”

You tensed, aggravated Midoriya just wasn't getting it. 

“Why do you respect him?” You peeled back, looking up at him. Midoriya’s arms stayed firm around your waist. “To me, he just seems mean. I mean, the kid bullied you your entire life. He told you to kill yourself ‘Zuku. Why do you keep pining after him?”

Midoriya blinked. “I don’t know. I just think hes going to be a great hero, and I admire that.”

You let out a defeated sigh. “So is Todoroki, and he’s nice to you!”

“I do respect Todoroki-”

“Not as much as you respect Bakugou.”

Midoriya stayed silent. You were right, he just didn’t agree with you. He was someone of reason who tried to work his way through things logically, but your view of Kacchan didn’t make sense to him. Yea, he was sort of loud and abrasive, but that was just one of those things about him, like how Todoroki is blunt and Iida is controlling. It wasn’t bad, it was just part of him. He knew that he didn’t have the best relationship with Bakugou in the past, but things can change; people can change. It was all water under the bridge now. You were all going to be heroes soon, none of that middle school stuff mattered, not to Midoriya anyways. 

“Let's just go back to class. We can worry about this later.” You started to pry yourself out of Midoriya’s grasp, his arms only pulling you in closer to him. 

“Thank you for trying to listen to me. I promise Kacchan wont lash out to you again, okay?” 

You nodded, not really believing him. Most of the time, you were the one who pissed Bakugou off first anyways. Midoriya placed a chaste kiss to your lips, letting his hands fall from your waist to find your hands. He placed a small kiss to your knuckles, watching your grow pink with the familiar blush he loved to see. 

***

Bakugou watched Deku kiss you, his arms holding you close. It made him sick. You should have been in his arms, his hand on your waist, his lips on yours. His hands tightened into fists, small burns forming on his own palms. He knew he wasn’t what you wanted, he knew you weren’t ever going to like him, but he couldn't stop pining after you. He couldn’t stop daydreaming about you, how he would treat you, the places he would take you. 

When you walked back into the room with Deku, both of you avoided his traveling gaze. You shot him a fast glare before Deku could usher you both back to your seats next to each other, Iida immediately lecturing you. 

It was the first time you saw Bakugou without his angry scowl, but rather, a sad frown. 

i've been saying this for a while but i really think vecna singled out eddie for a reason. Vecna could've gotten to Chrissy whenever he wanted, but he waited till she went to eddie's trailer. he had his hooks in max, eddie's neighbour. he dragged fred out into the forest and killed him just mere miles from where eddie was hiding from the cops. he knew Patrick was looking for eddie with jason and killed him again, right in front of eddie. Eddie is a constant witness in these murders, everyone is brought near him and then killed and a gate is made. could vecna not get into eddies mind to lure him close? cause homeboy has enough trauma to last a lifetime maybe 2, Vecna totally could've found something inside his mind to get him like he did the others but he didn't. even after he watched chrissy die, that would've been enough trauma for vecna to weasel his way into eddie's mind but he couldn't. so he got to nancy instead. it's not just a coincidence that venca pinned all these murders on some kid, he didn't do it by accident. there's a reason he picked eddie

SUMMARY: In which YN has the worlds biggest crush on their college’s most popular boy, Katsuki Bakugo, but has never actually spoken a word to him. Katsuki Bakugo didn’t know YN existed until he gets dared by his friends to sleep with them before the year ends.

PAIRINGS: Katsuki Bakugo xFem!Reader | Shinso x Fem!Reader

GENRE: College AU, crack/humour, angst

WARNINGS: swearing, alcohol/drug usage, sexual themes

STAUS: completed

Part 1: I wanna be a whore😩

Part 2: just one party

Part 3: get bakugo laid

Part 4: I lost y/n

Part 5: he who shall not be named

Part 6: lemme hop on that dick

Part 7: yet

Part 8: give me your number

Part 9: how big is dAT ASS???

Part 10: DENKIIIII

Part 11: I’m in love

Part 12: wait

Part 13: didn’t know I was going on a date with a WHORE

Part 14: don’t worry y/n

Part 15: so how’s the weather?

Part 16: my angry boy

Part 17: I’m in love with you

Part 18: I’m gonna go message Kiri

Part 19: heart shaped cookies

Part 20: we should of stayed strangers

Part 21: I don’t deserve her forgiveness

Part 22: I don’t know what to do

Part 23: you’re too good to me

Part 24: she really did change you

Part 25: can we talk?

Part 26: I want to be with you | Bakugo Route

The End ♡︎ Bakugo’s Ending

☟︎ARTWORK☟︎

Bakugo gets ramen thrown at his face

© 2020 tojiphilia. All rights reserved. Please do not repost, modify or claim as yours.

Bibliophile Brew Vol. II

Summary: When managing your parent's book cafe while they're away, you meet Wonder Duo Dynamight and Deku.

Warnings: SFW. No smut yet but suggestive so Minors DNI. Fluff, aged-up characters, educational polyamory discussion for clueless/inexperienced reader (I think those discussions are important and wanted to include it), language. Lmk if I forgot anything!

This one is a little shorter, but I felt like I made y'all wait long enough for another part and just wanted to get something out there. And there is still more to come! But lmk what you think!

100 likes and 25 reblogs for part 3!

< Prev

Word Count: 2.6k

You don't know if you've ever been more nervous than you are right now. You constantly question whether you picked the perfect dress to come off as elegant, the right heels that wouldn't cause you to trip over yourself from the height, or the best lipstick shade to bring out your smile. Your hands shook as you smoothed your hair down, letting out a brisk sigh while staring out the window of the sleek black car that Bakugo sent to pick you up.

When the car rolls to a stop in front of Nonpareil, the elite restaurant catering exclusively to pro-heroes as a sanctuary from paparazzi and fans—a haven established by Midnight as a side business venture—you see your date for the evening waiting for you at the entrance. The blonde stands in a black suit, the black button-up under his jacket is halfway unbuttoned, showing off the star-like scar on his chest. You truly didn't feel worthy of the sight, and all the nerves came flooding back to you.

You feel like you had earlier in the evening, scrambling to make all the right decisions as you had a mini panic attack with Sukki on the phone. You felt like a mess then, and you feel the same way now on the inside. The door opens and a quirk-heated hand is offered to you, vermillion irises staring down at you appreciatively. You place your shaky hand in his sturdy grasp. And suddenly, those nerves dissipate at the sight of the upward corner of his lips, your date caught with a rare smile as his eyes take you in appreciatively.

“So much better than that cafe apron,” he murmurs, and you flush at the tone, looking down at the dress you picked out. And you have to admit that he's right. You do look good. Not that you need his approval, but having this Adonis of a man view you so preciously gives you that inkling of confidence that you need to gracefully slip out of the car, your fingers curling around his. At your full height, you still have to crane your neck to look him dead in the eye. The height difference sends the butterflies in your stomach to flutter, but the way a thick finger comes up to gently brush an eyelash from your cheek is what morphs those butterflies into birds beating against your rib cage. How can such a simple action turn your insides into a chaotic birdcage?

After a few moments of appreciating the shade of each other's eyes, you eventually break apart. He takes your hand and delicately tucks it in the crook of his elbow, leading you into the prestigious restaurant.

That's when your nerves come back, though. You've never seen so many pros in one place, and the sheer power of the beefy bodies buzzing around the room was overwhelming. You wouldn't call yourself a fangirl by any means—you didn't even recognize the number one and two heroes at first—but you could match faces to names mostly. However, you didn't need to know who these heroes were to know their importance and ability to snap you in half if they so choose to. Dynamight could snap you in half if he so chooses to...It makes you feel small, but you can't seem to decide whether that is such a bad thing or not...at least not in Bakugo's presence. At least not with the way his big hand settles on the small of your back, a protective weight to guide you through the unfamiliar setting. You can’t say you dislike that at all.

The further you two walk into the establishment, the more you notice how the crowding of people starts to dwindle. You’re ushered to a set of stairs, leading you to a floor above the bustling and chaotic atmosphere of the bar area. Instead, you’re both in an area that seems designed just for dimly lit booths set with elegant tables and meals. Was that Kmaui Woods? And Mirko? Oh shit, that was definitely heroes number three and fifteen Frostburn and Creati on a double date with rescue hero Uraviti and speed hero Ingenium! Looking around you realize that this floor seems only designated for the top thirty with a particular area on a slightly raised platform in the middle just for the top ten pro-heroes of Japan. Yeah, your nerves are shot at the moment.

Looking at Katsuki, he seems to notice the sudden recognition in your eyes at the setup. His smirk is on full display while continuing to lead you to the center of the room, the tables meant for number one and number two. When you finally manage to reign in your shock and anxiety a bit and pull your eyes away from the blonde hunk of a man escorting you, your eyes land on a certain head of emerald curls sitting at the very table you’re being led to. Izuku sits in the middle of the booth, the dim light of the table lamp glinting in the reflection of the flute brought to his lips. However, to you, the way his eyes flash the same soft light is far more distracting than the glare from the glass. He stares right at you, deeply into your soul before his gaze roams down your figure, and when he pulls his drink away you can see the appreciative smile on his lips. This seemed to be a far cry from the boyishly charming man who came into your cafe the other day. This man seemed incapable of shying away from whatever he wanted. And the way his eyes trailed your every movement screamed that he found exactly what he was craving.

You stop dead in your tracks when feeling the flush crawling up your neck and cheeks. You look up at Katsuki with an air of confusion.

“What’s going on?” Even your voice sounds so small to you while you look up at the behemoth blonde before you. You can’t keep your teeth from worrying at your lip, fearing you’d done something wrong by agreeing to both of their date propositions.

This was already an issue that you had struggled with accepting until Sukki finally talked you down from that ledge. No, you weren’t a bad person for accepting both dates. You aren’t committed to either, you shouldn’t feel bad for dating around. But you were also worried because these weren’t just two guys. These men were Japan’s saviors and protectors. They were best friends and men that anyone would kill to get close to. And you were asked out by both. You had to keep reminding yourself that you weren’t playing them; they both asked you out of their own accord and you never pushed for either of them to do that. But then again, these were Japan’s saviors and protectors. Maybe they were the ones playing you. And even if they weren’t, you’d eventually have to break things off with one of them. You can’t date both of the top heroes, right?

“We’re having a date,” Katsuki said obviously. He nods his head to Izuku who stands and greets you both when you reach the table. You stand between them both, dwarfed by the two well-dressed giant heroes, your head shifting back and forth to each of them.

"Umm..." You take a step back, looking at both of the men in front of you, taking a moment to study them, trying your best to figure out what is going through the two pros' heads. "I'm sorry."

Izuku's brow furrows as he looks at you. "Sorry? For what?"

"I-I should've been honest about accepting both of your date invites..." you start, your fingers fidgeting with one another as you watch your feet, face burning in shame. "But...is this necessary? Or just a joke? I-I don't really—"

"No!" Eyes around the room turn to the three of you at the loud panic in Izuku’s voice. You tense up and awkwardly look at the surrounding pros watching you while you send stiff waves and strained, close-lipped smiles—a truly poor attempt to ease your own social anxiety. Izuku clears his throat a bit, straightens his dark sage suit jacket, and smiles sheepishly, scratching at his cheek anxiously. "Uh, sorry, I meant to say, no, that's not what this is." His hands wave frantically as he speaks. "Can-can we just have a seat?" He motions toward the booth as the rest of the room dissolves back into their previous conversations. You nod hesitantly and slide into the semicircle booth, a blonde flanking your left and a greenette to your right, effectively trapping you between the two hard bodies.

"Please relax," Izuku begs softly. "There is nothing to be sorry for, and we didn't invite you here for anything other than your company."

"Then—"

"It's a date still," Katsuki answers your unasked question.

"With both of you?" Your voice sounds soft and unsure, uncertain that this is really happening. They share a look over your head as you look to them for answers. Izuku offers you a soft smile.

"How about we get some food and then we can continue to talk about this over dinner, yeah?" As if in sync, Katsuki hands you an opened menu the moment the last syllable leaves Izuku's lips.

"The spicy curry is good here if you're into heat," Katsuki offers while looking at his own menu.

"I like the katsudon," Izuku mentions. "What looks good to you?"

"Umm..." your eyes scan the dishes quickly. "The sukiyaki sounds good..."

"Sukiyaki it is then, yeah?" Katsuki promptly says, smiling softly. Looking at his gentle expression, you think that his ability to code-switch so suddenly from coarse to tender never ceases to give you a bit of whiplash.

Katsuki gives everyone's orders and menus to the young waiter who had appeared practically out of thin air before turning back to you. His arm comes up to rest against the back of the booth behind your head and his body angles in towards you. By the sound of shifting on your other side, you can tell that Izuku did the same.

"Umm, so...can someone please tell me what's going on?" you ask meekly.

The boys share another silent conversation with their eyes over your head. It seems to be heated according to how Midoriya fidgets and Bakugo's brow furrows expectantly.

"Start, nerd," Bakugo snaps at Midoriya to cease the incessant silence permeating the space between the three of you. Your shoulders jump slightly at the suddenness of his deep, gruff voice. Your head turns to Izuku, eyes shining in expectancy. He clears his throat.

"Right, umm, where to start?" He mutters to himself, bringing a scarred thumb to press into his bottom lip. "Well, first of all, we're dating." Maybe not the best place to start. Your mouth drops open, your head snapping between the two of them in quick succession. "Oh, shit, wait. Backtrack! Umm, we really like you."

"Fuck, nerd," Katsuki groans, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers and sinking lower into his seat.

"Uh, I-I think I'm even more confused..."

"We're dating, we like you, we're bi and poly, and wanna date you," Katsuki grunts out. "There. Pretty fucking simple. How the fuck did you fuck it up so badly, Deku?"

"I was going for a more romantic approach, Kacchan," Izuku pouts. You simply freeze, your mind struggling to catch up to what is being said to you.

"Oh." It's the only thing that manages to escape your tight throat, and the simplicity sets both of the men on edge.

"Is...That's all ya got to say?" The blonde grumbles, but you can hear something underneath the edge of his tone, something more vulnerable than you were prepared for.

"Kacchan, be patient," his green-haired counterpart scolds. "That was a lot of information to just bombard her with. Give her time to process."

"You...both like me?" The men in front of you share a soft look, a silent conversation before nodding their joint affirmation. "You're dating each other, and you both also want to date me?" Again, they nod. You bite your lip for a moment in thought before continuing. "How—I've just never...dated this way before. I mean, I don't have a ton of experience in general so...what would the three of us dating look like?"

You watch Izuku's eyes soften on you. "Well," he begins, scootching closer to your side, his large frame dwarfing you further as his thick arm comes up on the back of the booth. It's a quality of his that you hadn't noticed before, but with his impressively imposing body pressed so close into yours now, you couldn't ignore it now. "It's just like normal dating, just with more people than the majority of relationships have."

"And more communication," Katsuki reminds, knowing this to be a particular relationship quality that he constantly needs to be aware of, especially when it comes to something as delicate as introducing a new member into the relationship that has been shaping for twenty years. Izuku nods in agreement.

"And there's just no jealousy or anything?"

Katsuki smirks at that. "I don't know. Let's see." The tips of calloused fingertips kiss the smooth skin of your upper thigh, dancing gently along the hem of your dress. Your breath picks up at the tickle of his touch, your blood rushing in your ears to the point that you nearly miss the words tumbling from his lips. "Deku, this make you jealous?" You feel his lips brushing against the skin behind your ear, hovering ever so slightly as they graze downward on the side of your neck. You wonder if those sinful lips can feel your pulse in their proximity.

Izuku's lips turn up in a grin that rivals Katsuki's own mischievous smile. "Not at all. What about this?" Your chin is pinched between a crooked thumb and index, your head being tilted towards those dangerous emerald eyes and plump lips that brush against your own teasingly. The deep scarlet of the tiny lamp in the middle of the dinner table is no competition for the glowing blush on your cheeks.

"Nah," the blonde on your other side chuckles, his fingers unconsciously kneading the fat of your thigh. "Fuck, yeah, nah, no jealousy here. That's fucking hot. Do it again." The greenette's breath tickles your skin as he snickers, though you're not sure how he could be laughing in this moment while you were fearing cardiac arrest because of their slightest touches. Your heart was overreacting to the gentlest of skin-on-skin contact and you have no idea how you're meant to survive these two masses of muscle if this is how you react to their powers of seduction. "What about you, huh? Whatchu think about this, honey?" An arm reaches around you to grip at the jade curls at the nape of Izuku's neck, redirecting his lips to another pair that move against his right in front of your face. You're instantly mesmerized by way they react to one another, the motions practiced, perfectly in sync in a way that only comes from pure trust and love.

And they did love each other and trust each other wholly. You suddenly realize the depth of what they were asking of you, what they were inviting you into. And there isn't a hint of jealously as you witness their heavy kiss, the rest of the restaurant fading away with the show. Yeah, your poor heart won't be able to survive this relationship, but you're willing to risk a heart attack.

They part ways only for viridian and vermillion to look at you expectantly.

"Can we go back to your place now?"

If you enjoyed, please consider helping me buy a coffee ☺️☕️ Thank you!

Next >

Yea yea this hurt. Thanks for that… 🥺

Steve and Nancy broke up in the fall of ‘84, which would have been the first semester of Steve’s senior year. The second semester of his senior was most likely spent dodging his old, horrible friends plus Billy, eating lunch alone, and trying to act like he didn’t care about the fact that Nancy and Jonathan just walked into the cafeteria holding hands and laughing. 

When his graduation came, Steve’s parents probably weren’t around for it because when are they ever around? Nancy (and Jonathan) had no reason to be there. He and Robin weren’t friends yet, even though there’s a slight chance she may have been there, considering she was in the band, and the band usually plays. He had no friends in his graduating class, no friends his own age that would’ve really shown up for him. He has no other family that could’ve shown up, and while Dustin is the literal closest thing he has to a real friend at this point, something tells me Steve most likely didn’t make a big deal about his own graduation to the kid or ask him to come because that’s just not the kind of guy that Steve is. This means that there’s a very real chance— we’re talking worst-case scenario here— that Steve graduated alone without a familiar face in the crowd cheering him on and most likely went home to that big, empty house… also alone and tried to pretend like none of it bothered him. 

The best case scenario is that Dustin was there, and while I’m confident that probably warmed Steve’s heart and was so much better than having no one, there’s also something still kind of sad about the fact that his entire support system comes down to a kid that’s five years younger than him. Especially when his own parents most likely still didn’t show up.

On the flip side, I think this means that Steve makes a very, very big deal about Robin’s graduation. Partially because she’s his best friend, and he would quite literally die for her, so praising her milestone is just as easy as breathing at this point, and partially because he remembers how bad it sucked to have it feel like it didn’t really matter and he refuses to let her feel like that. 

The Edge of Tomorrow Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky x reader Modern AU

Summary: When Bucky Barnes’ arm gets blown off in Afghanistan, his mental state is shaky. Steve tells him that he needs someone to be with him to make sure he’s okay. You just happen to be the girl that answered the ad in the newspaper.

Last Updated: 4/23/2022

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

More???

Eddie Munson - Master List

Wow! I had no idea this was going to happen! Thank you for all the love on my Eddie story!

Blossoming of a Shy Violet

- Reader…the new girl at Hawkins meets Eddie Munson…and her life will never be the same.

Story contains…fluff…angst..smut…possible violence…so please 18+ and the reader is fem!

If you would like to be tagged…please let me know!

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

Part Eleven

Part Twelve

Part Thirteen

Part Fourteen

Part Fifteen

Part Sixteen

Part Seventeen

Part Eighteen

Part Nineteen

Part Twenty

Part Twenty - One

Part Twenty - Two

Part Twenty - Three