dekus-fellow-crybaby

Latest Posts by dekus-fellow-crybaby

💖Hello lovelies!💖

I know that a lot of people have been asking/dming me about the Nightmare Fuel update, and I’m working on it as well as many more requests and original ideas! Please note that I have a Ko-Fi goal up for the next part of Nightmare Fuel. It’s only $5, so only 5 people need to donate a dollar for the update.

Now, I do want to explain myself a bit for the reason I post goals on my Ko-Fi for updates. For one, I just had surgery, and I can’t work for at least the next six weeks, so every penny counts to me. For two, so much of my time and energy to writing, and it takes a lot out of any writer, especially one who is trying to cater to requests. For three, my time is valuable and my creativity is even more so. I am constantly learning that and working on proving that to myself.

I’m sorry if this comes off as desperate or money-hungry; that’s not my intention at all, but for the most part, Tumblr writers give free content and entertainment, even while struggling with irl issues and needs. So if you can donate, please know that it has a real impact on me and my life, and I am so truly grateful for those who choose to help me out! I appreciate every single one of my readers, and I post these goals, not to hold the next part "hostage" until I get a "ransom", but out of respect for myself and my own needs. My writing is my creation, and I set the boundaries for my works and what I want to get out of them. Because, let's all be honest, you would be the same in my situation. I ask for donations because I want to know if my work is worth anything, and because I honestly need it.

I want to thank everyone who has supported me and those who will support me in the future, as well as all of you who like, reblog, and comment on my posts! Your support means everything, and it keeps me going even when I feel like I can't. Thank you.

TL;DR

In short,

Surgery = no work = I’m broke 🥺

Ko-fi ☕️ = Nightmare Fuel pt. 2

This is a self-respect thing but also about bills

Thank you in advance, I love and appreciate all of you! 🫶🏻

Ko-fi

Buy Deku’s Fellow Crybaby a Coffee. ko-fi.com/dekusfellowcrybaby

Become a supporter of Deku’s Fellow Crybaby today! ❤️ Ko-fi lets you support the creators you love.

Baby

Summary: Katsuki finds out something new about you and about himself

Warnings: NSFW. 18+ only. Minors DNI! Major daddy kink, babying, gn!reader, unlocking new kink, major praise kink, slight degradation, rough sex turning into sweet soft slow sex, slight insecurity, fwb situation, slight emotional intimacy, allusions to cockwarming, slight mentions of a subspace, short drabble.

Word Count: 800+

"Ya like that, my good little slut?" he groans in your ear as his hips pummel your insides. He set a punishing pace right at the beginning, your body pushing and pulling along the sheets at the intensity. You find it hard to do anything but whine as his hips smack against your ass, his chest pressed into your back. Your fingers twist into the sheets, your face rubbing into the material in a pathetic attempt to muffle your exceedingly pathetic moans. You grasp at your pillow, pulling it to your chest as Katsuki's cock reaches deeper inside you, and your bite down on it as the word bubbles up in your throat.

You wanna say it. You want to, but you can't. You just know that he'd hate it. But as his dick pokes at the special spot inside you, it slips out anyway.

"Daddy!"

The world stops as your world stills, his cock halfway inside you mid-thrust. You fucked up. You know you did. You know that this arrangement was just for sex; a means of relieving stress for the both of you. You crossed the line. You fucked up.

He doesn't move an inch, his hardness leaving you feeling half-empty. Your shoulders tense the longer he goes without moving, without speaking. It may only be a few seconds, but it feels like hours of deafening silence. You can't manage to stop yourself from letting the tears silently slip down your cheeks, tremors passing through your body with the effort of holding back sobs.

After a tense moment, his quirk-heated hands smooth between your shoulder blades before he grasps your shoulder, turning you over slowly. In your humiliation, you drag the pillow with you, burying your face in the plush material as you're brought onto your back. You know you seem ridiculous, childish even, but you can't look him in the eye.

"Come out, my pretty baby," he says, his voice dripping over you like melted butter. The shock of hearing him so soft is enough to overwhelm your embarrassment. Pulling the pillow down your face enough to reveal your wide eyes, you look up at your partner. His expression is one that you'd never seen on the tough pro-hero before. Gone is his signature smug smirk, instead a soft grin takes its place. Quirk-softened digits delicately brush over your temple, smoothing at the wrinkles in your forehead. "There you are, my perfect baby. Need Daddy to take care of you?"

Oh. Oh. You definitely weren't expecting that.

His hips pick back up, the pace lazy, movements packed with power instead of speed. It leaves your mouth hanging open, each long thrust into you punching the air from your lungs and the pitiful whines from your throat. He moves onto his side, pulling you with him and tucking you into his chest as you both lay next to each other, facing one another. His palm glides over your thigh, maneuvering your leg over his hip as he continues his leisurely pace. Katsuki pulls the pillow clutched between your hands away, silently encouraging you to hold onto him instead. You do, hooking your arms under his arms and gripping at his shoulders. Your face buries into his chest, your mind slipping into a smaller headspace as the blond coos sweetly and pets your hair.

"Oh, my pretty little thing. Such a good baby. My baby. So, so perfect." You release a breathy whine, your body thrumming with the rare praise. The explosive blond always had such an affinity for nasty words, his tongue sharper than anyone you'd met before. You never knew he was capable of catering to your smaller side. You needed the affirmation, but never asked, afraid to ruin whatever was between you both. But if you had known that his words would set you alight like this, would would've called him 'daddy' a long time ago.

Katsuki peppers kisses and nips all over your face as he continues his unhurried pace. His arms cradle you to his chest, the embrace itself feeling more intimate than when he was brutally plunging his cock into you. That thought alone has you letting go in a breathy gasp, the sudden release causing you to clench down on him. It triggers Katsuki's orgasm and he spills into you. You're filled up by him, his spend swimming in your stomach and warming you up. And when the last ropes of cum flood your insides, he doesn't pull out. Instead, he pecks your sweaty forehead, trailing chaise kisses to your closed eyelids, your nose, your cheeks, your chin, and finally, your lips. He parts only a breath away, the tip of his nose tracing patterns into your skin as you both catch your breath.

"You did so well, baby," he whispers, his voice barely there. "Rest now. Daddy'll take care of you." His thick arms curl around you, dwarfing you in his hold as he curls up around you, his softening cock plugging you up still. It's perfect. It's everything you wanted.

Sorry for the short drabble, but I was in the mood for some sweet, slow, intimate sex from my favorite explosive blond.

If you liked this, please support me on Ko-Fi!

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed! Please remember to like, reblog, and comment if you liked this! And if you want something specific, send in an ask!

what are your guidelines for smut? like boundaries of what you will and won't write. also more generally, are you willing to write any of the characters you listed as trans men?

In all honesty, I’m willing to try anything! If I don’t like something in my inbox, then I just won’t write for it. I don’t kink shame, but I’m also not going to write something I’m not comfortable with, though I might not know yet if I’m comfortable writing for it until I try to first. I guess my big hard no is p3d0 stuff. I won’t write characters as underaged, all characters are 18+ consenting adults. I don’t mind trying new and different things, but I’d want to do research beforehand, as I like to do research on everything I write about.

I may not want to write a specific kink for a specific character if I can’t see it for that character. When writing, I like to do a deep dive into a character study and see if I can visualize that for a specific character. Everything I write is thought through. Like I believe that Aizawa would be a dominant personality in the bedroom bc he’s a leader for his students. He’s a good dom bc he anticipates what the other person needs and wants to push his partner(s) to be their best and reach their limits. I believe Dipper can be dominant bc he’ll do anything if he’s determined enough and he can be a great leader, but I can also see him as a submissive bc he’s still the shy, awkward nerd that he always was. The man is a switch. Bill won’t sub for anyone bc he can’t relinquish control and power. I make these points to say that, if I can see it for a character, I will write it for a character. I hope that makes sense and answers your question 🫶🏻

But if anyone would like to request anything, I’m always open to reading it! I will say, that it may take me a little while to get to a request bc I have a lot of projects in the works, I admittedly am a bit backed up on requests 😅, and I like to dedicate research to a topic I’m not entirely familiar with to do justice to it. But if you can be patient with me, I will do my best to meet your requests! 😁

Owl House Masterlist

If you would like to show your support: ☕️ Thank you!

Requests are open! Will write for the following x reader:

Fluff 💖

Angst 🖤

Smut ❤️‍🔥

GIF by mengyan

Hunter (aged up obviously)

Main Masterlist

Gravity Falls Masterlist

If you would like to show your support: ☕️ Thank you!

Requests are open! Will write for the following x reader:

Fluff 💖

Angst 🖤

Smut ❤️‍🔥

Nightmare Fuel {Bipper x Reader} 🖤❤️‍🔥

GIF by gifsets-blog

Dipper Pines (aged up obviously)

Stan Pines

Stanford Pines

Bill Cipher

Main Masterlist

My Hero Academia Masterlist

If you would like to show your support: ☕️ Thank you!

Requests are open! Will write for the following x reader:

Fluff 💖

Angst 🖤

Smut ❤️‍🔥

GIF by bornonthebreakofdawn

Crybabies {BakuDeku x fem!reader} ❤️‍🔥

Bibliophile Brew {BakuDeku x fem!reader} 💖 Vol I Vol II Vol III Vol IV

Convincing {BakuDeku x fem!reader} 💖🖤❤️‍🔥

Private Lessons {ShinZawa x fem!reader} 💖❤️‍🔥

Training {ShinZawa x fem!reader}

Baby {Katsuki Bakugo x gn!reader}

All Characters are Aged Up!

My Hero Academia:

Izuku Midoriya/Deku

Katsuki Bakugo/Dynamight

Eijiro Kirishima/Red Riot

Denki Kaminari/Chargebolt

Shoto Todoroki

Hitoshi Shinso

Shota Aizawa/Eraserhead

Keigo Takami/Hawks

Yo Shindo/Grand

Bakusquad

Dekusquad

My Villain Academia:

Tomura Shigaraki/Tenko Shimura

Touya Todoroki/Dabi

Himiko Toga

Character Combos

Main Masterlist

Stranger Things Masterlist

If you would like to show your support: ☕️ Thank you!

Requests are open! Will write for the following x reader:

Fluff 💖

Angst 🖤

Smut ❤️‍🔥

GIF by miqrated

Glassy Eyes {Eddie x fem!reader} ❤️‍🔥

Good Use {Steddie x fem!reader} ❤️‍🔥

Polaroids {Steddie x fem!reader} ❤️‍🔥

Eyes Up {Eddie x fem!reader} ❤️‍🔥

Reincarnation {Steddie x fem!reader}

Eddie Munson

Steve Harrington

Steddie

If you would like to see a different character, please ask and we shall see.

Main Masterlist

Marvel Masterlist

If you would like to show your support: ☕️ Thank you!

Requests are open! Will write for the following x reader:

Fluff 💖

Angst 🖤

Smut ❤️‍🔥

GIF by marvel-ship

Modern Technology {Stucky x fem!reader} ❤️‍🔥

Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier/White Wolf

Steve Rogers/Captain America

Peter Parker/Spider-Man (Tom Holland)

Peter Parker/Spider-Man (Andrew Garfield)

Sam Wilson/Falcon/Captain America

Stucky

WinterWidow

Main Masterlist

Training

Shinzawa x fem!reader

Summary: ShinZawa rush home to their pretty new kitten.

So many of you have been asking for another ShinZawa x reader one-shot so I tried something a little newer than what I’ve written before. I hope this does not disappoint! Thank you for reading!

Warnings: NSFW. 18+ only. Minors DNI. Aged-up Characters, threesome (mmf), fingering, oral (f receiving), pet play, inexperienced!reader, sub!reader, slightlyinexperienceddom!Shinso, experienceddom!Aizawa, lessons on sex, overstimulation, pet names (pet, kitten, kitty, kitty cat, pussy cat), bondage, spanking, humiliation, toy use (vibrator, anal plug, cat costume, leash, collar), slight manipulation, slight water sports, sadisticdom!Aizawa, bukkake, cum eating. Please let me know if I forgot anything! Hope you enjoy and remember to show some love by liking, commenting, and reblogging!

Word Count: 3.2K

"We’re late," Hitoshi sing-songs to Shota as they run through the crowd, their eyes set on the amateur purse snatcher they’re after.

"Nothing we can do about that now," Shota grumbled. His wrist flicks his capture weapon out, the material snapping around the person’s ankle and pulling them to the ground. "The kitten’s fine. She can wait a bit longer."

"Think so?" Hitoshi asks as he gets close enough to bring his boot down on the thief’s wrist, preventing them from reaching out for the dropped bag once again. They groan in pain, activating their quirk to summon a dagger of light in their other palm. They swipe the blade of energy at Hitoshi’s leg, cursing at him all the while.

"Fucking meddling heroes!" They scream, blindly wielding their weapon. "Can’t mind your own fucking business! I—" Their screeching comes to an abrupt halt, their eyes dulling and muscles relaxing.

Hitoshi sighs, aggravated by the lack of a challenge and disappointed with the abundance of stupidity. If he was going to be spending his time away from home, away from his new kitten, then he wanted the patrol to be worth his time. "I didn’t even have to trick you into opening your big, fat, fucking mouth." It’s not a moment later that Aizawa is slapping a pair of quirk-canceling cuffs onto their wrists, ending the shit-show of a robbery quickly. Hitoshi silently commands their perp to stand, guiding them to follow wordlessly to the nearest precinct. Shinso is quick to pick up their conversation again. "I just hate leaving her all alone. She’s still in the training phase."

"That’s how kittens learn," Shota reminds. "We can’t be home 24/7. She needs to learn how to behave even when we’re not there."

Hitoshi’s shoulders slump and he heaves out another sigh. "I know, I know. I still hate it though. Her little sad eyes and pitiful mews are like fucking daggers to the heart." Aizawa raises an eyebrow at the pun, but whether Hitoshi meant it as such, he doesn’t address it, so neither does the older hero.

"You’ll spoil her," the dark-haired man scoffs. "You can’t just pamper her. You gotta look away from the eyes."

The deep-seated sigh that escapes the lavender-haired man’s mouth causes the sensei to roll his good eye in exhaustion over the same tired argument. "But what if she hates the potty pad and won’t use it? Or what if—"

"Look, kid, you gotta trust me, okay?" Aizawa interrupts. "I’ve been through this before. She’ll learn. The training phase will be over sooner if you don’t coddle, alright?"

Hitoshi agrees with the older man, but his tone is less convincing. Not that it matters much as there is little that can be done about it now. They’re already late, the few minutes it takes to make it back home won’t make much difference. But their kitten will be fine in the amount of time it takes to travel to their shared apartment.

Once they open the door, they’re greeted with the sight of their pretty new kitten, sitting right where they left her before their patrol shift. Hitoshi chuckles at the sight and coos at the little creature, quickly making his way over to pat her head and scratch behind her ear.

"Hello, kitten, did you have a good day without us?" Aizawa snorts at the question, knowing they won’t receive a verbal answer. He looks over your quivering form and the puddle beneath you. Your face is flushed in humiliation and tears trek down your face, your eyes glassy as you look up at the two men. Shota tries his best to ward off the obvious sadistic pleasure he gets at seeing you still bound to your spot on the floor and the potty pad they left under you full, but he can’t help the twisted upturn of his lips at the sight. "Aww, see, sensei? We were gone too long! Our kitty cat made a mess of herself." Hitoshi grants mercy upon you and switches off the vibrator taped to your overstimulated pussy, slowly pulling it off. You’re finally able to catch your breath, and you attempt to gulp down cleansing breaths but the muzzle over the bottom half of your face makes it hard to do so.

Aizawa squats down to your level, observing the golden pool beneath you. His huge hand cups your throat, the touch gentle but the power evident by the simple display. His gaze gauges you, his head tilting to the side as he wordlessly watches you. "I’m gonna take this off, and you’re gonna be our good girl, yes?" His eyes bore into you, waiting for a response. You finally nod. "And good girls don’t speak unless told to, correct?" You nod again, knowing better than to hesitate a second time. Aizawa smirks, lightly patting the side of your face approvingly. "There we go. We’re learning." His fingers work the clasps of the maw-shaped muzzle, gently working the suffocating contraption off your face. The moment you’re released from the muzzle, you gulp greedily at the fresh air, the unobstructed oxygen filling straight into your lungs. Good thing too. You weren’t sure how much longer you could have been in that thing while being so close to panicking. He gives you a moment to catch your breath, scratching gently behind the ears clipped into your hair. "Now, how long have you been sitting in your mess?" You blush brightly at the acknowledgment, but you refuse to look down at the evidence of your indiscipline. You look towards the oven’s digital clock, and your shoulders slump when knowing the answer.

"T-two hours, sir," you whisper. Your voice is rough and quiet, not only from disuse but also from the lack of hydration. Using the little cat water bowl was much harder to do with the leather muzzle on. You try your best to ignore Hitoshi hissing through his teeth at your answer. Shota tsks and shakes his head.

"Did you get permission to relieve yourself?" He asks. You hesitantly shake your head. His hand claps down on your thigh and you jump. "Words. We use words now. You speak when we’re not actively playing pet. We took you out of pet play when I asked you a direct question and you answered with words. We’re training, so this is the only time I’ll be telling you this. You’ll go back to being a speechless pet when I say so. You understand?"

You go to nod again but manage to stop yourself and mutter, "Yes, sir."

"I’ll ask again," he says lowly, his fist closing around your throat once more, but not so gently this time. "Did you have permission to go?"

"No, sir," you barely manage the words, your voice shaking almost as much as your thighs.

"You got anything else in here?" Shota pokes at your tummy harshly. Before you can respond, Hitoshi slides behind you, an arm caging around your shoulders and pressing your back flush against the front of his body as his other hand presses down on your bladder, pushing out anything remaining. You whine as the last of your piss dribbles onto the overfilled potty pad, the warm liquid tickling over your extra-sensitive cunt. Your thighs tremble harshly, your hands clenching against them and pulling at the restraints keeping your wrists attached to your thighs. Hitoshi laughs at your struggle. He presses your body back into his own once more, hands roaming your rope-clad figure. He squeezes the bits of flesh that spill over the tight bindings and runs his fingers delicately over your quaking thighs. Shota grabs the leash hooked to the collar around your neck, giving the material a yank.

"Sorry, kitten," he sighs, "but you have to learn." He’s not sorry. Not at all. He was actually elated that his plan was executed perfectly. It’s why he insisted they finish their patrol without skimping the final few minutes. That’s why he made Hitoshi chase that last criminal with him, the one before that, and the one before that, despite going over their scheduled patrol time. And as he tugs on that leash cord taut, your collar straining against your pretty neck as he pulls you over his lap, he knows it’s all worth it.

He loves having you on your knees, shuffling across the floor on reddened shins towards the bedroom. He loves the sight of your sticky thighs as they press together shamefully. He loves bending you over his lap. He loves that the angle shows off your pussy glistening with your creamy juices and golden release with your perky ass pressed into a presenting pose. The view reminds him exactly why you were the perfect pick for their pretty new kitten. So eager to please that you didn’t even object to your alleged mistake. Good pet owners are better about punctuality so they can take care of their helpless babies. But their precious pussy cat is just accepting her punishment without arguing like a brat. Oh, yes, you were definitely the right choice. And now, Shota can take this opportunity to teach Hitoshi how a good owner disciplines their kitten.

Aizawa’s rough fingers dig into Shinso’s cheeks as he pulls the younger hero’s reluctant attention onto him instead of your dripping heat. "Pay attention, Toshi," he whispers. "How many do you think she deserves for making such a big mess with permission?"

"Well," Hitoshi starts, voice strained looking down at your dirty ass, "we were late."

Shota lets out a heavy sigh. "And good kittens should know better. We laid out the rules, it’s her job to follow them."

"But isn’t that unreasonable?" Hitoshi asks, a push-over whine to his tone.

"I was gonna give her five, but ten it is," Shota decides. Hitoshi looks as if he wants to protest, but Shota doesn’t leave room for argument. "If we’re not strict with her in the early days then we have a brat on our hands. You want that, Toshi?"

Hitoshi’s lip quirks up at the corners, imagining his bratty little kitten. "Well…"

"No." A rough, calloused hand smoothes down the globes of your cheeks, goosebumps following its trail. You do your best to remain still, knowing he’ll be harsher on you if you flinch away. You’re a quick learner that way. His fingers wind the leash around them, yanking at the fabric. You look up at your master with wide, innocent eyes; the kind of eyes that make his pants tighter. He pinches the sides of your face between his fingers, blunt nails lightly digging into your cheeks. He speaks slowly, ensuring your little, kitty mind comprehends his next words. "We’re back in pet play. The only sound you can make is cat noises. I only wanna hear your little meows, kitten. Understand me?" You nod, offering a small mewl and nuzzling your cheek into his palm.

It was like a switch went off in your head the moment he confirmed pet play was back on. Your movements become more fluid, more soft, more cat-like. You really play into your role as their pretty pet so well. And when Hitoshi slowly works the fluffy, pink toy into your puckered hole, you easily arch your back as if he were playing with your actual tail. You slip into your kitten mind-space so easily, that it’s as if the paws and tailpiece were mere extensions of your body. Hitoshi was so nice to lube up the toy for you, but his quick work-in of the plug leaves your hole to clench around it, keeping it snug and in place. When Hitoshi tugs at the tail, it feels as if it’s a part of your body and you arch with it, presenting prettily over Shota’s lap. Hitoshi’s fingers comb through the toy’s fluffy fur before his touches scratch up to your back. His digits work your sore limbs out of the restraints strapping your wrists to your thighs. He works at the stiff muscles in your arms as you stretch after so long being in one position. You practically purr at the comforting attention the lavender-haired man gives you.

"Cut it out," the older man snaps at Shinso. "This isn’t a treat. You’ll confuse kitten." Hitoshi sighs before pulling his hand away. You resist the urge to whimper. Instead, you pull your arms over Shota’s thigh, resting your head over them and burying your face atop your paws. The raven-haired man meanly tugs your tail out of the way before he grips at one of your ass cheeks roughly. He leans down, whispering softly, "Ten, and then you’re done, kitten. I know you can do it, pet." You nod into the fluffy paws covering your fists, taking a deep breath to prepare. His hand pulls back, hanging in the air for a moment of anticipation before clapping down onto your left cheek. Your shoulders tense but otherwise you don’t move. The force was fairly light, the sting dissipating faster than you thought, but the reprieve was short-lived after the light test hit. His hand comes down firmer the second time, your asscheek reverberating with the smack and the sound resonating through the room. Lucky for you, the clap covers your tiny, unintentional squeak that slips from the force. Despite the bite blossoming through your ass, you arch your back more, giving your masters easier access to do what they wish.

Shota can't help the breathy chuckle that escapes, pleased by your easy compliance. The next series of strikes are quick and painful, the power behind them leaving your skin red and welting. His hand shifts between each cheek before his hits come down onto the back of your thighs. You can't keep the squealing and squirming down for those. Aizawa shifts you onto your back across his legs after the eighth swat before his palm slaps between your thighs. Your back arches off his legs, your head throwing back at the tingling sting spreading through your lower region. And Shota smirks at this, sadistic joy blooming in his chest as he watches you writhe and whimper in his lap. One more spank between your legs and he's done.

He admires the tears that stream down your cheeks, the way your bare chest heaves when trying to catch your breath. His eyes drift up to Hitoshi's, reveling in the unbridled amazement in his gaze. Shota knows that the younger man has never been a dom for anyone before, the closest he came were the nights the older man allowed him to top, so he also knows that his former student has never experienced the thrills that such a power over someone can bring. The pure ecstasy that taking care of a pretty pet can give. He can see it now, in the way the same perverted pleasure at the sight of your pain and humiliation seeps into his eyes. But Aizawa Shota is a merciful man. Despite the gleam in Hitoshi’s eyes, he knows that you need a little treat for taking your punishment so well.

"Toshi," he calls gruffly. You jolt at rough digits sliding through your folds, breath hitching and body shivering as they spread you out and expose you to the cool air. "Why don’t you kiss the pussy cat better?"

The lavender-haired man is all too happy to accommodate the request. He dives in without hesitation. But his rush to get his mouth on your cunt does nothing to betray how slowly his tongue works your oversensitive clit. It's torture. The way his wet muscle intimately picks you apart, circling your bundle of nerves with expert precision. The pressure makes you want to cry. It’s not enough. You need more. After being edged during their entire patrol, you need more than kitten licks and kisses. It’s almost as if the lilac-eyed man reads your thoughts, his callused digits tenderly prodding your slit. Your older dom pets back your hair as Hitoshi penetrates your entrance, his fingers tapping up into your anterior wall.

You're close—fuck—so close. Looking down at the tuffs of lavender as his head moves between your legs, you get lost in his movements. He's so focused, determined to pick you apart with only his languid tongue and deft digits. Despite his unhurried work, he's quick to pull out your pleasure with skilled movements. Just as you're about to let go, your eyes shoot open in panic. Are you supposed to ask for permission to cum? You look up at your older master, a pout taking over your features while you try to silently communicate with him. The raven-haired man smirks at the obviousness on your face, but he doesn't give you any indication of what he wants you to do. You whimper and whine, writhing in his lap as Hitoshi drags on his torturous methods. You paw at Shota's chest, mewling pathetically for his sympathy.

He chuckles, combing through your sweaty locks. "What's wrong, pet? Do you want something?" Your bottom lip wobbles. You nuzzle your head into his big palm, moving your faux paw-covered hands more insistently over his chest. "Oh, does kitten wanna cum?" You drop your pout for a relieved smile. Instead of nodding, you do your best impression of a purr and kitten-lick his palm as a sign of confirmation. He laughs at your cat-like interpretation and gives Hitoshi the go-ahead. He works faster, harder, bringing you close to the edge. "Okay, kitten, you can let go." And you do. You gasp, releasing silently, your mouth dropping into an 'O' shape. Your thighs shake uncontrollably around Hitoshi's head.

Shota gently brushes sweaty strands from your face as you breathe through the aftershocks. Your chest heaves, lips parted with your gulps of air. And your swollen, bitten lips look so dry, your mouth seeming so thirsty. So your loving masters decide you need something to drink up. Your dark-haired dom cradles you to his chest for a moment before laying you out across the mattress. Your fluffy paws rest over your chest adorably, mimicking a real kitten lying on her back. Hitoshi and Shota find it incredibly endearing. Though, you'd look even more adorable with your tummy full.

Shota nods his head to Hitoshi as he sits up on his knees beside your head, pulling himself out of his jumpsuit. He's been so hard since the moment he saw the golden pool beneath you. They both have. Achingly so—and they've been so patient while waiting to give you their milk.

Shinso follows his mentor's lead, scooting on his knees to hover over you. He tangles your leash around his fist, tugging lightly to capture your attention. "C'mon, kitty cat," he whispers. "Open up. Time for your cream." A small smile twitches your lips before they part, your tongue falling out, awaiting. Both of your masters work their fists over their cocks, their chests heaving with ragged breaths. It doesn't take long for salty spunk to spurt over your face, spraying into your mouth, along your cheeks, dripping off your chin, and tickling your nose. Once you swallow what was deposited into your mouth, you do your best to lick up the rest. It's such an odd sight—a weirdly adorable gesture in such a lewd context—and both of your doms breathlessly laugh at your effort. You wrinkle your nose, swatting with heavy paw gloves at what your tongue can't reach, and that's the moment they know.

You truly are the prettiest, most perfect, pussy cat that they could've ever asked for.

Hello, lovelies! What did we think about this? How are we feeling? Please let me know! I love hearing your thoughts and opinions. And if there is something you would like to like to see in this series, drop it in the comments or in my request inbox!

This one-shot is dedicated to @lunalovesthe-moon for such an amazing donation! Thank you so much! I know that we had already talked in PM, but I really wanted you to know how much your support truly means to me! I appreciate, not just your generosity, but your kindness as well! Especially while I've been going through such a tough time irl. Thank you so much again!

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Bibliophile Brew Vol. IV

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

Warnings: NSFW. Minors DNI. Fluff, aged-up characters, language, smut, impliedshort!reader/height difference, shower sex, quickie, major praise, plot-heavy, relationship talks, overwhelming work environment, slight panic attack, pet names (bunny, darling, etc.), social/familial pressures. If I have forgotten anything, please let me know!

Word Count: 5.8 k

<Prev

GIF by frostfires-blog

Katsuki is pacing. Now, you haven't known the Pro Hero long, but you are fairly confident that when the man remains silently stewing as he treads the length of the bedroom then hell is soon to be raised. He hasn't taken his eyes off the gossip column on his phone, obsessively rereading the article. You're glad he pulled it up on his own phone after seeing it on yours as you watch the smoke begin to accumulate from his palms, the device close to cracking under the strength of his flexing fist.

Izuku isn't much better as he sits next to you on the bed, a finger pressed into his bottom lip. His mouth ran a mile a minute with mutters. The both of them make you uneasy with their differing reactions. You anxiously chew on your thumbnail and twist the hem of Izuku's t-shirt print t-shirt you're wearing with your other hand as you silently watch, trying to prevent idle hands. You know that if you don’t fidget then you’ll look at your phone, and you want to just ignore the overwhelming multitude of messages and notifications awaiting you.

"I'm gonna kill them," Katsuki grumbles, voice seeped in the unbridled rage bubbling beneath.

"Who?" Izuku asks, looking up at the stomping blonde.

"Whoever the fuck thought it was a good idea to trespass onto our property for these pictures!" he snaps. You flinch at the volume, gnawing too harshly on your thumbnail and breaking the skin. You hiss at the slight twinge of pain that stabs at your finger, and you finally remove the reddened and raisin-like digit from your mouth. You pout, noticing the blood rising to the surface. When you look back up both of the heroes are looking at you. You shyly avert your eyes until you feel a scarred palm gently grasp your forearm. Bright emerald eyes look onto you with comfort and worry swirling in their pupils. You grant him a wobbly smile that quickly fades with the waves of anxiety that are continuously crashing over you. Crooked fingers entangle themselves with yours. He squeezes your palm before bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your injured thumb. Your eyes flit up to the blonde, meeting the carmine that stares apologetically down at you. He slowly treads over to you and drops to his knees before you. Callused, quirk-heated palms knead into your thighs which are still sore from the previous night's events.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, so uncharacteristically quietly.

You shake your head emphatically, looking down at your lap and staring at the thumb cradled in Izuku’s hold. "No, no, it's okay," you say softly. "Nothing to apologize for. I'm just jumpy." Your gaze intensely remains on the wounded thumb, otherwise you would have noticed the look the two men share between them.

"Bunny," Izuku starts hesitantly. "We're sorry that you were dragged into...all this."

"Oh," you deadpan momentarily before taking a quivering breath. You muster a sugary smile. "Like I said, no need to apologize. It's not your fault." Katuski's brow furrows at you, carmine eyes searching yours as you hear a soft sigh from beside you. Katsuki’s rough thumb brushes over your cheekbone, a comforting hand cupping your face. Pillowy lips press into your forehead softly, the touch lingering.

"Too fucking good for us," Katsuki murmurs so faintly that you nearly miss it. You give another small smile, sighing out a quiet laugh.

"Not true," you mumble.

"One hundred percent true," Izuku chimes in. His mouth presses a little peck into your temple sweetly. You let your eyes flutter and lean into the touch. You take a deep breath, letting the men's caramel and fresh linen scents settle over you, calming the nerves rattling your very being. You almost hate yourself for opening your eyes again to shatter this illusion that blocks out the rest of the world. Time to get back to reality.

"Thank you," you whisper. A moment passes silently, and your mind goes back to your phone and the mountain of texts that you need to respond to. Then your bubble pops. "I need to go to work."

Katsuki scoffs at that. "You're not going to work today."

"Umm, what Kacchan means to say," Izuku smooths over quickly, shooting a glare the blonde's way. "Maybe it'd be best to lay low for today?"

"But I can't just leave everyone hanging..." you weakly reason. "I can't just let everyone else deal with all of it on my behalf."

"Then...maybe close the cafe for a couple days?" Katsuki suggests with a shrug. You can tell he's trying to act nonchalant with his suggestion, trying to play it off as not being a big deal.

"I can't..." you shake your head, the anxiety suddenly getting to you as your mind is now forced to swim in the possible repercussions of the photo. You let your head fall into your hand, raking your palm down your face and then up through your hair. "I can't afford to close until this all blows over, cause who knows how long that will take! I can't do that to my employees...so many of them need the hours...I need the hours...and my parents—Oh, God—my parents! What if they saw?! What're they going to think?! They still think I'm a fucking virgin and my fucking panties are on the cover of gossip magazines!"

"Hey, hey, hey, shh..." Izuku is quick to jump into action, pulling you into his strong chest and rocking you with him. He pets your hair down and helps you establish a normal breathing pattern again. You're slow to come down from your impending panic attack but he eventually talks you down from the ledge. You don't even realize that you've started crying until rough digits swipe at falling droplets. "It's okay. You'll be okay, bunny. Look, from everything you've told me about your parents, I think they'll understand. Give them a chance, they may surprise you. As for the rest of the world, don't worry about them. We'll fight the whole world if we have to." You wetly chuckle at that.

"Thank you, Zuku," you giggle weakly, the tears still watering down your voice. "That was very sweet...but very cheesy."

"Ha!" The explosive blonde cackles wildly as Izuku feigns hurt. You offer an apologetic peck to Izuku's cheek, and his pout disappears. His arms wrap around your waist and pulls you into his side, burying his head in the crook of your neck and placing a small kiss there. Katsuki watches the both of you lovingly. His large palm cups the side of your face. "You'll be okay today?"

You nod. "I told you not to underestimate me, remember?"

He chuckles, "Yeah, I remember, Darling." He sighs, running a hand down his face and pinching his nose for a moment. When vermillion meets you again, they're studying your features. When it seems that his inner monologue is complete, he nods. "You'll call us if there are any problems?"

"If it's anything I can't handle, I will," you compromise. He snorts out a breathy laugh and shakes his head at you. His hand cups the back of your neck, pulling you in to sweetly press his lips against your temple.

"Sorry this relationship got so serious so quickly," he whispers.

You offer a sweet smile. "I knew what I was getting into. And I don't mind serious." You press your lips to his before pulling back and running a hand through green locks to coax Izuku away from resting in the crook of your neck to press a kiss to his mouth as well.

With one last complacent smile, you untangle yourself from them to get ready for work. A little difficult to do without your clothes there, but Izuku offers to drive you to your apartment before your shift. Despite being in a rush, you eye the front door wearily, realizing that the guy's t-shirt over last night's dress just screams "walk of shame." It's not something you want to advertise with the risk of more paparazzi outside of the security of the heroes' house.

When you make it back to your apartment, Izuku walks you up, careful to keep an eye out for anyone with a camera. You invite him in as you get ready, and his eyes never leave you.

You're a bit nervous at the fact that he is in your apartment for the first time, but that was the least of your worries at the moment. It also didn't seem to matter, considering his eyes were trained on one thing.

"You look really good in my shirt, by the way," he says as he leans against the doorframe.

"I'm practically swimming in this," you giggle. You pull on the fabric as you look down at the kanji spelling 't-shirt'. The man strolls over to you, towering above your shorter frame. His hands settle on your sides, bunching the fabric between his fingers. His forehead presses to yours, his nose bumping into yours gently.

"Still looks good though," he whispers. "I like you in my clothes."

"Yeah?" you breathe out, lips brushing his.

"Mhmm," he hums, mouth pressing softly to yours. His fingers skim underneath the shirt, dragging his hands up your sides. "But I like you better without any clothes." He pulls the shirt over your head and his fingers pinch the zipper at the back of last night's dress, tugging the article open.

"Again, cheesy line," you giggle, watching his eyes roll playfully. "But I like that idea. Continue." He chuckles as his digits deftly work to remove the rest of the fabric that separates the two of you. Your fingers trail beneath his own clothing, inching over his skin. He slips your straps off your shoulders as you untie the string of his sweats. You take his hand and lead him to the bathroom.

"Where we going, Bunny?"

"I still need to get ready for work so we're multitasking," you answer. The two of you make your way into the shower, colliding the moment your feet hit the cool tiled floor. Your hands fumble for the shower handle as Izuku’s lips capture yours in a heated kiss. The water welcomes the two of you in a warm spray. You gasp as your back hits the cool shower wall and Izuku takes full advantage of this, his tongue slipping between your lips to tease at yours. A whine escapes your throat as his scarred, muscular arms cage you between his hard body and the ceramic tiles lining the shower wall. It's almost as if he's holding himself back as he removes his hands from your body and claws at the wall instead. Your earlier declaration about being underestimated rings in your head as you can't help but feel like he is treating you too delicately. A lot has happened in the last 24 hours. What better way to quiet those voices than a good, hard fuck?

Your hands wrap around his wrists, pulling his hands back onto your waist and clasping your smaller fingers over his dwarfing digits, making sure they squeeze and knead into your skin. "Not gonna break, Zuku," you mutter against his lips. "Stop treating me like I will." Something snaps in him then. Those hands you guided to your body now force you to turn around, one tangling into your hair and pressing your face against the cold surface your spine previously pressed into, while the other one grips at your hip, arching your back prettily.

"Noted," he grunts, groaning as he greedily takes in the view before him. His palm slides from your hip to squeeze at the flesh of your ass before coming back to smack at the fat globes just to watch the muscles ripple. He bites his lip when he notices the new addition of coloring his hand has left on your skin, beautifully accompanying those from the previous evening. "If you want me to stop, please tell me now."

You shake your head fervently. "Don't you dare. Please, Zuku. I need you."

He chuckles then, thriving off the desperation in your voice as his fingers prod between your legs. He's quick to find your bundle of nerves, circling the button with his thumb as his index glides over your slit with a barely-there touch. As the first fingertip breaches your entrance, your forehead falls onto the wall, letting the cool surface ease your furious flush. You let it all flood from your mind—the tabloids, the cafe, your friends and family—as you let this gorgeous greenette take away your worries with his intoxicating touch. His fingers make quick work of stretching you out, the digits scissoring you open. It isn't long before his crooked fingers are replaced by a thick cock kissing your cunt. He gingerly slides himself in, granting you a moment to adjust, but that's the only gentle moment the two of your share.

His hips are quick to pistol into yours, setting a brutal pace that has your screams echoing off the tiled walls. Your moans and whines accompany the crack of skin slapping. But the best sound is of Izuku's pretty pants and groans.

You can feel his breath against your neck, his words being whispered into your skin. "So good, such a good girl," he murmurs. "Ngh—so lucky. You're amazing!"

"Izu—oooh!" you try, but the words get caught in your throat and replaced by wanton moans while his cock pummels its way inside of you.

"Best girl we could've asked for," he whines in your ear. "So fucking lucky!" A scarred hand sneaks down and bullies your button rapidly. "C'mon, bunny, please cum. Cum on my cock, pretty bunny! Need it, need you so bad! Need to feel you squeezing down on me, babygirl. Fuck! Ahh~!" Your nails scratch the ceramic wall for purchase but find nothing stabilizing as your thighs tremble. You nearly fall forward, your knees buckling from the quick and intense pleasure. Izuku catches you before you fall, an arm wrapping around your waist as he continues to piston in and out of your creamy cunt. "Fuck yes!" he hisses through gritted teeth. He holds you flush to him as he empties into your sensitive pussy, riding it out before bringing the both of you slowly down from your high. You breathe heavily, attempting to catch your breath in the steamy bathroom. All the while, Izuku peppers your neck and shoulders with delicate pecks, holding you up as your legs continue to twitch and spasm. You can’t help but let out a breathless chuckle, Izuku quick to follow. You look over your shoulder at him, sweetly kissing the tip of his nose that nuzzles into your shoulder. Izuku is gentle as he rights you back onto your feet. Your legs tremble, but it settles a bit in use. Even still, he keeps hold of you, helping you remain standing.

Izuku keeps a cautious arm around your middle as he helps you clean up. You find that you like being taken care of by the freckled hero as much as you love being manhandled by him. He gently runs your loofah over your skin, covering you in a sweet, vanilla lather. His touch is soft, and maybe a bit teasing, as he washes away the evidence of your quickie between your legs.

"Mmm," you sigh softly. "Don’t start, Izuku. I don’t think I have time for another round." You feel the rumble of humor in his chest before he removes his playful fingers. A quick peck is pressed into your temple before he goes about the rest of the shower. You make sure to return the favor though, gliding soapy hands over rippled muscles and a bubbled ass. He growls when you give extra attention to his hardening staff and tightening balls.

"Tease," he grumbles, nipping at the tip of your nose as you laugh.

"Takes one to know one," you sing-song, sending him a sly wink before you relent and continue the shower as normal. When the water shuts off, Izuku wraps you in your towel, making sure you’re nice and warm in the fluffy material before drying himself off. You don’t stay to wait though, worried that if you watch the water drip down his abs to the deep v-line leading to the outline of his cock in that pathetic excuse for a towel…well, if that happened, you’d never make it to work.

You nearly race to the bedroom, pulling out your clothes and slathering on lotion before the gorgeous greenette can get any ideas. You’ve barely slipped into your underwear before scarred arms are wrapping around your middle, pulling you into a perfectly sculpted figure. He breathes in the scent of your moisturizer, holding you delicately and tracing your skin with his fingertips. He thumbs at the hem of your panties, pressing himself between your asscheeks, and peppering open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat. You lean back into him, allowing yourself to be enveloped in his embrace. His pinky dances beneath the fabric and he pulls it back with a snap, offering a loaded, "These look so good on you, bunny," that rumbles in his chest before he pulls away and presses a firm peck to your cheek, removing himself entirely to let you change your clothes.

Your head swims in the rush of the flush filling your face. "Tease," you grumble, pouting as he laughs.

"Takes one to know one, right?" He winks. You roll your eyes throw him an oversized nightshirt. Of yours for him to wear. It fits him unfairly snugly and he pulls on his sweats, foregoing the boxers he came in. You change your clothes quickly, throwing on dark pants and deciding to pull Izuku's t-shirt over your head once again and tying the back so it's no longer falling past your knees and simply looks like a cute, oversized style.

Izuku groans as his eyes roam over you in his shirt ready to walk out of the house as if boldly branding yourself as their’s now. "You sure I can't tempt you into staying home for the day? I promise I can make it worth your while." You shake your head and chuckle, pecking his lips. He groans again, "I know."

"I can’t hide," you sigh, hoping to convey your thoughts and feelings with the gravity of your tone.

"I know." As you pull away to grab your belongings for work, Izuku’s crooked fingers clasp over your hand. "Hey," he breaths, an air of sincerity falling between you both. "I hope you know that last night meant something to us. We...never knew that we wanted something more in our relationship until we met you. And last night was, we hope, the first of many. It's something we've talked about for a while now. But...I'm sorry we didn't do a better job of explaining that. We want you, all of you, and I never want you to think that it meant anything less to us." He pauses, making sure you’re grasping the weight of his words. You nod understandingly and he continues. "And what's happening now, with the press and that whole shit show, it means something to us as well. I know that you are more than capable of taking care of yourself, but please just give a call if you need either of us. Or if you just want to talk and see each other that's great too! I just don't want you to be stressed about this or what it means. I hope that we have made our intentions perfectly clear, but that doesn't mean we have to go at that pace, or whatever pace the media or public is trying to force us into. I just-I just want us to go whatever timeline that is best for us, regardless of anyone else. Bottom line is that we want to be with you. We want to take you out and spoil you and protect you but only in the ways you're comfortable with. And if you need us at all, please call. Kacchan would just love to yell at some Karens for you, if you'd like."

Despite the chuckle that bubbles in your throat at the image of Katsuki screaming at snotty busy-bodies with bad haircuts, your eyes get misty at the sentiment of Izuku's words. His gaze softens on you, and he pulls you in to press a gentle, comforting kiss to your forehead.

You should have stayed home. Or better yet, you should have stayed at Izuku and Katsuki’s home, wrapped up in their expensive, pro-hero-worthy sheets, and pro-hero-built bodies. You should have…but you didn’t. Instead, you stare at the never ending sea of fake fans and obsessed fans alike, all of them with phones out and vulture-like claws ready. You wonder how they managed to find your name and workplace so quickly, but that’s the internet detectives at work, you suppose. Luckily, none of them have noticed your entrance through the back door yet, but Sukki does.

She wordlessly excuses herself from the teenage girl shoving her phone in Sukki’s face and her questions down her ear canals. The aggressively inquisitive teen hadn’t even been ordering or planning to order from the looks of it so there was no love lost for that one. She enters the employees only section, frazzled and sweating. You prepare yourself for something resembling anger and frustration, but all she does is wrap you in a tight hug. Despite the chaos encroaching on your once peaceful workplace, you allow yourself to melt into the embrace, letting the warm contact soften the tension blooming in your body and mind. However, when she pulls away, you see the anger you were expecting, though you’re not sure who it’s directed at.

"What are you doing here?!" She asks, the strain in her voice heartbreaking to hear. "Go home! You need to let things die down and stay away from here."

"I can’t just let you guys take the brunt of all of this," you whimper. "This is my mistake."

"It is not!" Sukki scoffs. "Whatever happened with you and those heroes is your business and your business alone. And that shit-stain with the camera is going to know just how big a mistake they made once I get a hold of them." The growl in her voice makes you huff out a watery chuckle at the way it reminds you of a certain blond’s temper. You sniffle and wipe at your ruddy cheeks before straightening your spine.

"Thank you, Sukki," you breathe. Your eyes flit back to the door, looking out through the window at the horde awaiting your arrival. You’re spotted then. You can’t even understand why you’re such an over night celebrity. Do these people really think that they will gain anything from this experience? Interacting with you is not the same as interacting with your boyfriends. Unless they think that you’re the gateway to knowing them. That’s so ridiculous though. You watch as your coworkers have to back away from the counter when someone tries to push their way forward just to catch a glimpse of you. "And you’re right. My personal life is my own, so let’s just end this now."

You leave the sanctuary of the employees only area and face the beast. All eyes turn to you and you falter for only a moment before you straighten your spine, knowing that if you back down now then you’ll never slay this monster. Ignoring the painful shrill of squeals, you take a deep, calming breath through your nose, picturing the viridian and vermillion irises that await you at the end of the day. You look at your coworkers, seeing the mix of pity and relief on their features, and you’re filled with a new determination, wanting to fulfill your reason for coming into the cafe. Another breath fills your lungs. "Welcome to Bibliophile Brew Cafe," you project to the crowd, hoping that your words don’t fall on completely deaf ears. "I’d like to start by reminding everyone that we reserve the right to refuse service. I will not tolerate disrespect to my employees or myself. We also do not consent to be photographed, and any person who posts or shares our images without our permission will be faced with legal action. Now, if you are here to place an order, we are happy to serve you. If not, please make your exit now. And we do apologize, but our dining area will be temporarily closed, and all orders will be to go. Thank you for your patience." The girl who had been yelling at speaking with Sukki wrinkles her nose but doesn’t put down her phone. Your hand comes up and blocks out your face from being captured by the camera as you look the teenager dead in the eyes. "If you are not here to make an order, leave. Either way, put your camera up, or you will be permanently banned as well." Your voice leaves no room for question, so the girl dressed in a too tight, homemade looking BakuDeku shirt huff, turning and leaving. The rest of the crowd seems to understand how serious you were being. Some put away their recording devices, few leave, many stay. You know now that you’ll have to make many empty threats for your new rule set to be implemented, but that is not the priority. You drown out the noise of the crowd, turning instead to your employees. "How’re we doing?" Your coworkers look worse for wear; each of them with messy hair and sweat-soaked uniforms. Despite that, they each look relieved.

"Oh, y’know," Kaoru starts, deadpanned sarcasm dripping into your nineteen-year-old coworker’s voice. "Like, holy shit." Aiko, the newest to your work family looks close to tears as she rushes you in a hug.

"Oh, hey," you coo, trying your best to be comforting as you pat her back. "You all have been through food service hell this morning. I understand completely if you want to leave now."

"And leave you with this-this…mob?!" Aiko guffaws.

"Oh, hell, no," Kaoru declares. "We’re not leaving you alone."

"Just tell us what to do, boss," Kim says, the quiet man asks. The eyes of your coworkers look to you intently, all waiting curiously for your game-plan. Sukki gives you a nod and you offer all of them a soft smile.

"Sukki, please help me with the orders. Aiko, go type up the conditions I just said and print signs to be taped up. Also, print a sign that says we’ll be closing early. Kim, you’re on register with Kaoru. Let’s just get through the next few hours before we cut these vampires off and then I’ll treat you all. Okay?" You receive collective agreement before jumping into action.

It was the shift from hell, but you all made it. You dodged every question and had to ask several people to leave, but you did everything you could to keep the day going and to take care of your coworkers. Another way you were doing that was by bringing them to the Karaoke bar, renting out a private room for the lot of you to finally relax without the risk of more fangirls and pervs bothering any of you. As Aiko and Kim belt out an off key j-pop song, you rest your head on Sukki’s shoulders, silently praying that the cafe patrons took your legal bluff seriously because you have no idea if you could take legal action against anyone that might have taken your picture. An elbow jabs at your side and you look up to Sukki’s soft gaze.

"Cut it out," she demands gently.

"Cut what out?"

"Cut the overthinking out," she says. "There isn’t a guidebook for dealing with shit like this but you did it. You were amazing at it! You led, you were a boss, you should be proud of that."

You pout in thought, knowing that she’s right but not knowing how you could convince yourself of that. "Then how come I don’t feel like I did well?"

"Have you had time to process it all?" Her question stirs something inside your gut, knowing the answer is no, you haven’t had time to process. Not have you had time to grieve the loss of your privacy, your anonymity, or your dignity. A single photo took it all away from you, and you’re not sure if your scary new relationship is worth all of that. Then you’re terrified of the new wave of doubts crashing through your mind. But you don’t feel like you can say that, not even to your best friend.

So instead, you say, "No, I guess I haven’t."

"Then maybe that’s why you aren’t recognizing your own success today," she shrugs. "Or maybe it’s cause you’re the only one of us not drinking. Seriously, you deserve a buzz more than anyone and I wanna hear your drunk version of Polaris." You snort at the suggestion.

"Don’t wanna risk another scandal," you dramatize, or at least you hope it’s an exaggeration. You’ve never been one to drink as you had come to learn that you are a lightweight, but now, you’re afraid that a few glasses would have some majorly negative consequences. Your coworkers pout and chorus with ‘aww’s and ‘boo’s. They don’t take your rejection lying down though and instead flank your sides, dragging you to the mic by your wrists. A shot glass is shoved into your palm, a medley of cheers and pleas directed your way. You sigh, a nag thought ringing in the back of your mind as you remember that you brought your employees here to help them relax after such a rough day. You better lead by example. At their persuasions you finally give in, you throw back the burning alcohol before taking the mic between your hands, deciding that the best revenge would be to give them the insult on their eardrums that they were begging for.

The alcohol you were supplied with gave you an immediate buzz of false confidence and you sang three more songs. The night went by too quickly as you finally let the pressures of the day melt from your tense muscles. You all went your separate ways, Sukki’s arm slung over your shoulder and your arm wrapped around her waist as the rest of your friends sang their way down the sidewalk in the opposite direction. You were both holding the other up, swaying as you head towards the bus stop, giggling at nothing and also everything, each of you finding the most minuscule of your journey’s details to be hilarious. You plopped down on bench beside Sukki, the both of you leaning into one another. Her giggles are slow to subside, but once they do, her gentle smile stays as she watches you.

"I missed this," she beams, features soft and lips stretching with her growing grin.

"Missed what?" You question tipsily. "Miss guilt karaoke after a shit-show of a day?"

Sukki snorts and rolls her eyes at you. "No, I miss you. Your laugh. Your smile."

"What are you talking about?" You tilt your head curiously. "I smile all the time."

"No, I mean the real, genuine thing," she says, her eyes locking in on your own. "The smiling-cause-you’re-happy-not-cause-you-have-to-for-customers thing. The smiling-without-being-have-asleep-cause-you-were-up-all-night-working-on-a-paper thing. Like the real thing. I missed it. You haven’t done that in a while."

"Oh," you think back to the months that your parents have been away, the months since you’ve taken on their entire livelihood alongside your schooling. You have been stressed. The pressure of taking on that much responsibility had been weighing on you for far too long and it had affected you far more deeply than you had realized.

"I guess you really did need to get laid." And just like that, the somber air clouding your thoughts had been lifted. You’d like to blame it on Sukki’s comedic effect, though you know that it was mostly your tipsy mind that supplied the giggles.

Soon a car pulled up to the bus stop and Sukki’s phone dinged with its arrival. "Ahh, Uber is here." She hops up, looping her arm through her purse and turning towards you. "I already called you a car. You wait here and you text me when you get home, alright?"

"Yes, mom," you giggle. She gives you her best impression of a stern mother before her face breaks out in a grin. Her arms wrap around your shoulders, embracing you tightly, and you sink into the comfort of it all. "Thank you for taking care of me."

"Well, you take care of everything else, so it’s my job to take care of you," she mutters into your hair. A sleek black car pulls up behind the awaiting Uber driver. "Besides, I have helpers now." You chuckle at that, the image of vermillion and viridian flashing behind your eyes. You give her a tight squeeze before letting her go to her ride. She waves to you from the car as they drive off, the space they left behind being replaced by a sleek sports car seconds later. You admire the vehicle for a moment before the window rolls down and you’re left to admire something else. A grin breaks out onto your face when your eyes land on the carmine eyes and spiky blonde tuffs sticking out in all directions from his head. The explosion hero parks the car in front of you, getting out of the driver’s seat to stop in front of you. Whatever worries you had about your relationship earlier, whatever doubts you may have had, seem to fade away as he gives you his signature smirk and offers you a calloused palm. You gladly take it, letting him coax you to your feet and into his strong arms.

His lips press into your crown, and you feel his breath over your scalp as whispers, "You okay?" You’re grateful for the softness, never really expecting it from Katsuki, but always pleasantly surprised when experience that side of him. You’re especially thankful for his gentleness after what you saw from him this morning, the sight of his panic did nothing to quell the anxiety over the situation. While you know that your day was rough, but you’re sure that his and Izuku’s was just as difficult. But that didn’t matter now; not while you were surrounded by him, his caramel scent invading your senses and weighing warmly in your chest.

So, you nod, offering a hum of, "Mhmm."

His chest moves beneath your head as he breathes out. "Let me take you home?"

You’re not sure whether he was referring to your apartment or not, but you don’t risk leaving it up to interpretation. "Your place?" And the wolffish grin tells you that he was hoping you would say that.

Hello, lovelies! What do we think about this so far? How are we feeling? Do you guys want more of this? Please let me know! I love hearing your thoughts and opinions. And if there is something you would like to like to see in this series, drop it in the comments or in my request inbox! Also, I do apologize once again that I’ve been gone for so long. Life has been a struggle lately, loves. But I really hope that this was worth the wait!

If you guys want a new part then I’ll set up a new goal on Ko-Fi. Only $5! So that means if only 5 people give a dollar then you’ll get a new part!

Thank you again for reading! Hope you enjoyed!

💖 Hello, my lovelies 💖

⚠️ Important announcement. Please read ⚠️

Good news, I am alive! I know I’ve been MIA for a bit but I’ve been going through some big irl changes. Mainly being that I’m out of a job. Because of that, I’ve been taking every babysitting, dog sitting, doordashing, and odd job I can possibly find for the past few months now, which is why I’ve been so busy and unable to work on your brilliant requests or any new ideas. Sorry for ghosting you all. But I’m back! Still busy and unemployed but back! Writing is very helpful for my mental health so I’m trying my best to keep a writing schedule going as a self-care routine.

With that, I am happy to let you all know that I have some exciting things in the works!

First off, the next part of Biblophile Brew is written and ready, but we have not yet reached the like/comment/repost goal. However, since your girl is broke and hungry, I did create a Ko-Fi and a goal has been set up on there, so whichever goal is met first I’ll post part 4. Please know that I greatly enjoy writing and sharing my works with all of you, and I appreciate every view, like, comment, and share! However, writing fanfic is extremely time consuming and draining some days, and I need a bit more motivation to keep at it now more than ever. So if you can give anything, please know that I appreciate it and every penny makes a real difference in my life! But, if you can’t, I still appreciate every one of you and I am still doing my best to provide fanfic postings! I know y’all need that sustenance lol.

Secondly, a lot of you have been asking for more Nightmare Fuel, and yes, I am working on a second part! But I have other projects that I would like to finish first, such as more ShinZawa fics since so many of you have been asking for more since Private Lessons. I have lots of plans and I have lots of ideas, but I don’t have lots of time, so please be patient with me!

I think that’s everything I wanted to share for now. Thank you for reading to this point and for supporting my writing! If you guys have questions or anything, feel free to let me know. If you have ideas or requests, feel free to send it my way! I will do my best to keep up! Thank you!

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Become a supporter of Deku’s Fellow Crybaby today! ❤️ Ko-fi lets you support the creators you love.

Well…I accidentally posted what I have of Nightmare Fuel part 2 instead of saving to draft…so I hope y’all enjoyed the sneak peak while it was up! Lol 😅🥲😂

Yall, I did my nails for You’re Next! I think I did okay. Does it come across? Anyway, loved the movie! Prob my favorite of the MHA movies 🤔

Nightmare Fuel

Summary: After venturing into the woods and stumbling across a statue, Gravity Falls’ newest resident meets her worse nightmare...or maybe her scariest wet dream.

Requested by @fivvy

Warnings: NSFW. 18+ only. Minors DNI. DARK FIC! This fic contains darker themes such as manipulation, possession, violence, dub/con, and non/con! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! Aged-up Characters, Bill x reader, Bipper x reader, slight Dipper x reader? (There's some tension), porn with plot, slight MabelxPacifica, asshole!Dipper, mind sex, mind break?, sex pollen-like symptoms?, supernatural elements, horror-like elements, fingering, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, revenge sex, choking, asphyxiation, accidental voyeurism. Lmk if I forgot anything! LAST WARNING! DARK ELEMENTS! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK AND NO MINORS!! AGES IN BIOS!! Seriously guys, it’s kinda messed up and I will block minors!

Word Count: 7.9 k

Gravity Falls. The town just west of weird. And your new home. When you were younger your family used to drive through the small, eccentric town on the way to visit family in Portland. Your parents just loved the scenic route, and the great nature of Gravity Falls was about as scenic as it got. You never stayed in the town long, but the curious corner of the world always drew you in. The people you would meet during your occasional diner stops or the stories you would hear piqued your interest. It drove you towards a love of writing and reading, just searching for vibrant characters that might match the town's local color. Which is why you decide to take a year off college and live amongst the people that initially stirred your curiosity.

Stepping off the bus, the sunlight speckles through the trees, the warmth dusting your cheeks, and you are welcomed back to the town of Gravity Falls. The scent of pine trees and maple surround you as you walk towards the town square, a suitcase rolling behind you. Checking the address on the post-it note in your hands, you make your way to the house on the edge of the woods: the Mystery Shack. It was probably more of a gamble than you should have taken to respond to the rooming ad for a place called the Mystery Shack, but it was the only available housing in the small town, so you'd just have to take your chances.

Skipping the town tour, you make your way to the tourist trap, but you take note of the town as you go. Everything seems perfectly normal, like you remembered it, but you hoped that wouldn't remain the case. You needed something interesting to write about, something to spark a flame of inspiration in your head. So far, nothing but your new place of residence seems out of the ordinary. You make it to the Mystery Shack, surprised by the number of cars parked out front. A number of people come in and out of the house, most being led around by a dude in a suit, eyepatch, and fez. Walking closer to what you can only assume to be a tour group, you listen in on the man rifting off facts about the obviously fake attractions.

"And here we have the rock that looks like a face, dudes," the tour guide said.

"But is it a rock or is it a face?"

"No, dude, it's a rock that looks like a face," the tour guide sighs as if he got this question often. "It's-it's not an actual face." This only sparks more controversy for the guide, so you peacefully excuse yourself from the group, bypass the entrance for the indoor Mystery Museum, and trudge around to the backdoor. You're pleased to find no tourists there. From the window, you notice a few people filing around the room and you hope they were the actual residents of the house/tourist attraction. Knocking on the door, you are almost immediately met by a bubbly brunette answering with a brooding blond watching intently behind her.

"Uh, hi, I'm—"

"Are you our new roomie?!" She beams, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she ushers you in before you even give your answer. Once you’re in the room, you take in each of the girls' features. The brunette smiles at you excitedly, a pair of perfectly straight teeth flashing between glossy pink lips. Her curly hair tumbles down her back, the front of her bangs are held back by a dark pink headband which matches a pair of leggings she wore beneath a white tee with a multicolored shooting star on the front. The blond behind her has straight hair, straight-cut bangs brushing over her long, mascara-covered lashes, a light purple dusting of eyeshadow matching a purple jersey shirt with a white diamond on the front over a pair of black leggings along with a pair of big, white hooped earrings.

"Yeah, yes, hi," you breathed out, apprehension and shock in your tone as you’re pulled in. "Are you Mabel?"

"Actually...I'm your new roommate!" She squeals before deadpanning with a, “But yeah, my name is Mabel.” You can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm.

"Well, it's really nice to meet you, Mabel," you say genuinely, a sigh of relief passing your lips along with a giggle.

"This is Pacifica, my gf and our other roommate," Mabel introduces. The blond nods her head, not saying a word as Mabel does all the talking. "And my brother also lives here but he's kinda...busy right now. He's sorry he couldn't be here for the greeting party though!" You brush that off. "How about we give you the tour and then we can get to know each other."

She grabs one of your two bags as she leads you to your room: a dark space with a slanted ceiling, a stained-glass window in the far-left corner which offers a muted colored light, a furnace in the far right, a bed at the center of the left wall, and a closet to the left of the bed. It’s perfect for a shut-in writer such as yourself. Mabel tells you that the room used to belong to her Grunkle Stan who was travelling the seas with his brother, her Great Uncle Ford.

Dropping the bags onto the bed, the three of you made the rounds of the house. Mabel and Pacifica share the attic, Mabel saying she has sentimental attachment to the space. While walking through their home, Pacifica tells you how she had grown up as a rich only child. Her parents had fallen on a bit of "hard times" after her dad made a bad investment in some bonds and they had to sell their mansion to the town kook, Old Man McGucket, and, yes, that is how he prefers to be called. After living with her parents until she was legally able to leave, her now living with Mabel and her brother in the Mystery Shack was not only convenient but is also like a middle finger to her oppressive parents. You learn all of this before you even make it to the living room. You really like how talkative Mabel is. Her extrovert personality counteracts your quiet tendencies.

Coming to Mabel's twin brother's room—who you found out is named Mason but is nicknamed Dipper—it’s a mess. Dirty laundry, papers, and books all scattered over every surface. You barely notice the shape of the bed or couch underneath the piles of clothing and maps. The only thing that seems to be somewhat in order was the bookshelf. It’s stacked to the brim with books except for the top shelf, where only three books rest, all with their covers facing out. Each one is a deep blue, a drawing of a silver Pinetree overlayed with a golden Big Dipper constellation and underneath is printed golden numbers 1, 2, 3. They look like journals, though you had no idea what information could be handwritten there. You gather that he’s either a brainiac or a maniac, and neither tend to have very clean tendencies. But you aren’t one to judge, knowing you could get the same way in the midst of an inspired breakthrough. Your muse could work in mysterious and very annoying ways: ergo the entire reason for moving to Gravity Falls.

"Yeah, my brother tends to be a bit...hazardous when he gets in the work zone," Mabel explains sheepishly. "If it's not his room, it’s the basement that's a mess. Or both. Mostly both."

You’ve stayed relatively quiet the entirety of the tour but your curiosity itches at you brain, prompting an inquisitive, "What does your brother do?"

"Science research...of sorts," she answers through thin lips.

"Of sort?" Your brows scrunch together at the vague implication.

"Yeah, I'm not entirely sure the specifics of his work, just that he has a few Ph.D.'s," she shrugs, a nervous laugh bubbling in her throat, as if it wasn't a great feat to have multiple Ph.D.'s before the ripe age of twenty-four.

"Wow, that's...really impressive," you breath, not knowing exactly how to respond to her nonchalance over the subject.

"Yeah, proud of my bro-bro, just wish he would wash his clothes," she chuckles, faking(?) a grimace and pulling a laugh out of you and Pacifica.

The rest of the tour went on like this, sharing stories and taking cracks at one another, giving you an idea of the nature of the relationship between your new housemates. Mabel went on and on about how much the house means to them, and how much their great uncles mean to them as well. It’s really sweet, and you believe that you’ve found yourself some interesting characters to write about.

Mabel is really nice and, while Pacifica had a very hard exterior, you can see her softer side in the moments when she lets herself slip out of that tough exterior to laugh for Mabel. They both help you unpack quickly, even brightening up the space with a lamp Mabel had decorated herself—crystals hot glued to the base, refracting a cascade of rainbows around the room. You feel so welcomed already.

An ear-shattering bang shakes the house, dust drizzling from the ceiling and effectively startling you awake.

"Fuck!" A voice screams. You follow it with a heart-pounding urgency, leading you to the gift shop where smoke billows into the room. The vending machine swings open, and you startle, a small squeak leaping out of your throat. A figure emerge from the smoke, coughing and waving his arms with a cap in one hand to clear out the black cloud surrounding him. When the smog clears enough for you to get a good look at the man, the first thing you saw was the mop of curly brown hair, much like Mabel's, that is powdered with soot and debris. His pale skin is marred by the caking of dirt over his exposed arms and cheeks, yet the dark circles underneath his eyes were still prominent despite only being illuminated by the moonlight seeping in through glass windows. The dark grayish-green tee with a black question mark on the front was also frosted in a layer of powder. The red flannel tied around his waist seems relatively unscathed until he uses the material to wipe what is still on his face. His arms lifted to rub off the grime, showcasing the ink markings on his forearms. You can’t help but stare at him and the opened vending machine entrance, mouth hanging open at the scene. You wonder if you’re dreaming.

"Trying to catch flies, sunshine?" His deep voice rattles. You know he’s speaking to you despite him refusing to look your way.

"Excuse me?"

"No?" He smugly questions, the sarcasm dripping from his voice that is riddled with sleep deprivation and husky from his dust-coated throat. He finally looks over at you, allowing you to meet his chocolate brown eyes. "Then you should close your mouth." You wrinkle your nose at the snark of his tone. Before you can reply, the girls come down from the attic.

"Nice going, Dipstick, what did you blow up this time?" The blonde grumbles. You make a mental note to never wake the girl from her beauty sleep lest you receive the same venomous tone.

"None of your business, Pacifica," he sighs.

"I don't know why you're in such a piss mood when you were the one to wake everyone up at three in the morning, moron," she grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest and rolling her eyes so far back into her head that you’re sure she caught a glimpse of her brain.

"I know that you, more than anyone, need your precious beauty sleep, Pacifica, but my lab is not any of your concern," Dipper snaps back.

"Shut up, Dipshit."

"Buy my silence then, rich bitch."

The tangible tension in the room surrounds the house residents as Pacifica's eye twitch and her nostrils flare. Pacifica, not wanting to put up with his attitude any longer at three in the morning, mumbles a quiet, "Whatever," and turns on her heel, heading back upstairs. You can’t help but admire the great restraint on her part.

"Mason, go to sleep," Mabel utters firmly, tiredly, pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance as she speaks. "You're a dick when you haven't slept in a few days." He knows better than to talk back to Mabel when she calls him out like that, especially so when there is a significant lack of a nickname.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he groans, his hand dragging down his face, smearing black back onto the skin he'd just half-heartedly cleaned off.

"And you will apologize tomorrow." It’s not a question from Mabel, the no-nonsense tone leaving little room for debate.

"Yeah, I will," he mutters, followed by a nearly silent, "When Waddles learns to fly."

"Well, he already did," she argues, leaving you absolutely confused. "I'll see if I can't get her to apologize for the ‘dipshit’ comment but yours was worse so you have to make the first move."

"I know the drill, Mabel." She nods at his compliance, turning to you.

"I'm sorry that this is your first impression of my brother," she says sheepishly, though her tone scolds him still.

"This is the Ph.D. guy?" You choke out the inquiry softly towards Mabel, shock clear in your tone. She shrugs, nods, then goes off to find Pacifica.

"You must be the new roommate," he smiles then, though it’s more condescending than friendly. Despite that, he still holds out his hand for you to shake. "Nice to meet you. Stay out of my lab."

"Noted," you scoffs, taking his hand as if in a daze.

"Nice pjs," he smirks, instantly turning your cheeks red as you remember what you wore to bed. Nothing more than a thin T-shirt that barely covers your backside. You snatch your hand back from his hold. "Oh, and welcome to Gravity Falls."

Looking around, you take in the black-and-white space surrounding you. The trees still, despite the breeze grazing your skin; the birds hover in the air, wings wide spread; the wildlife turn their heads towards you yet don't move an inch otherwise. It’s like walking into a vintage photograph. Your mind wanders as your feet carry you deeper into the forest, following the gentle stream. The only color illuminating the monochrome forest is yourself and the image of a floating yellow-

"Mabel! I've said it once, I've said it a million times! I don't want any Mabel juice!" The sound of Pacifica's shrieking voice stirs you out of sleep, pulling you from the odd dream.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you walk into the den full of commotion. "What the hell is Mabel juice?" You ask sleepily, mid-yawn. You’re met with coos about how adorable the action was from Mabel, to which you blush and sheepishly wave off, already getting the sense that Mabel found cuteness in almost anything.

"Mabel juice!" Mabel announces proudly and far too loudly for so early in the morning. "A beverage of my own invention!" She shows off, presenting the drink in question that looked like a hot pink choking hazard. "Want some?"

"Hmm," you hum in thought at her hopeful intent. "Thank you, Mabel, but I think I'll stick with coffee. I do appreciate the offer though." She just shrugs, still beaming, and pours herself a glass. The sweet smell of pancakes wafts around the room as you sit at the kitchen table. "Something smells good."

"It's my ultra-chocolate-chip pancakes with sprinkles!" Mabel announces, sliding a plate over to Pacifica with a nicely decorated array of rainbow colors over a cloud of whipped cream in the shape of the Smiledip puppy.

"Wow, is this what breakfast is always like here?" You wonder aloud, Pacifica shrugs, hesitates in thought, and then nods.

"How many pancakes, Sunshine?" Mabel hums, the nickname falling easily from her lips. She obviously makes attachments very quickly.

"One, please," you say politely. Mabel is quick to oblige, whipping up similar masterpieces that look like a kitten judge, complete with chocolate syrup whiskers, a powdered sugar powdered wig, and a bacon gavel. "Mabel, this is really incredible." You can’t even remember the last time you had a hot breakfast. Or any breakfast for that matter. You didn't exactly practice a habit of self-care while taking your college courses...or any basic needs really like a regular eating schedule or exercise.

"Why thank you, Cutie-Patootie." You would respond if your mouth wasn't currently stuffed with the bacon gavel. "Sleep well?"

"For the most part." You nod slowly before your mind drifts back to the three a.m. incident. "Can I ask you something though?"

"Shoot."

"Is your brother always like that?" Pacifica snorts derivatively beside you, as if laughing at her own inside joke echoing in her head.

"Well, if you mean pushing the reasonable boundaries of his own health to finish his current hyper fixation…then yes," Mabel sighs, offering a sad smile. "But the bitchiness, no. He’s usually sweet, just sassy. But he tends to slip into bitchy mode when he hasn't gotten enough sleep…which now that I think about it is whenever he’s on the edge of a breakthrough…So to answer your question: yes."

"Hmm, that seems so stupid, though," you hum around a mouthful of the sugar drowned pancake bite.

"Pardon?" The voice comes from behind you, startling you with a bite of pastry cat judge halfway in your mouth. You would have choked if you'd taken a bigger bite. Turning your head, syrup almost dripping off your pouting bottom lip, you see Dipper. He obviously showered which was quite the improvement from last night. Now that his face is clean you can take notice of his features. You remember the big brown eyes but now, without the smudges of grease and grime on his forehead, you notice the pair of bushy eyebrows and fluffy curls that rest above those chocolate orbs. It looks like he hasn't shaved in a while, a shadow of scruff shading his chin. Instead of the question mark tee from last night, he’s wearing a dark blue sweater with the words "Disco Girl" in bubbled sky-blue font that reminds you of a 70s aesthetic mood board which he accompanies with a pair of grey sweats. You think it an odd outfit choice for the moody man in front of you, the juxtaposition boggling your mind. He cocks his head and raises a bushy brow in question when you take your time to answer.

"I mean, it just doesn't seem very productive," you shrug when you finally shallow the breakfast bite that was stuffing your mouth, the hypocrisy dripping off your words as much as the syrup. "When you don't get enough sleep your neuroreceptors lose their sensitivity to serotonin and norepinephrine which leads to impaired cognitive function. I thought you were supposed to be a genius or something." You mumble the last part while sipping on your cup of coffee. Pacifica snorts out of laugh, Mabel has to slap her hand over her mouth to cover the traitorous smile, and Dipper stares at you with his nose wrinkled and his brows drawn together, taking in your words and frowning at the implication.

"I'm going back to bed," he announces, immediately turning on his heel. “Save me a pancake gnome, Mabel!”

"Are you a science buff too, Sunshine?" Mabel asks once Dipper has turned the corner. Peering past the wall, you check to make sure he was really gone.

"Nope," you popped the 'p'. "I got that off a tv show. I just wanted to stump him." All three of you erupt in laughter.

"Okay, I’ve decided to like you," Pacifica giggles, leaning back in her chair and giving you an approving once over. "On a trail basis, of course. We’ll see how it goes."

"Honored," you chuckle.

"So, what’s the plan for the rest of the day?" Mabel asks. She turns the stove off, carrying over a plate with a llama pancake for Pacifica and her own her has a pancake shaped like a dolphin…with muscular arms instead of fins?

"Well, I wanted to check out the town a bit," you answer with a mouthful of the syrupy breakfast. "Maybe walk around the forest a bit…Any good landmarks to check out?”

"Want a tour guide?"

"Yeah, that’d be great, Mabel," you answer gratefully.

The three of you make a day of exploring the town. Mabel and Pacifica show off every aspect and share all the quirky attributes of the small town. Considering the size of the town, the tour doesn't take long. The last stop is Greasy's Diner where Pacifica works. The three of you eat lunch before Pacifica clocks into work. Mabel offers to walk with you back to the Mystery Shack before she goes back out to the craft shop for more knitting supplies. You politely decline, saying that you can find your way back on your own. You part ways and you take your own time strolling back to the house, taking the long way through the mysterious woods you've been itching to explore.

After living with the trio for a few weeks, you caught on to a few things. Mabel is a being of pure chaos, but she makes it work. She channels most of her energy into her creativity, her job consisting of running an Etsy shop selling knitted sweaters. Pacifica is actually a very chill person. She was rather reserved, and you'd catch her people watching often, especially when Mabel's friends Candy and Grenda would come over. She would often observe them with a small smile playing on her glossy lips. She seemed like the perfect balance for Mabel's wildness. And Dipper hates your guts. You're not sure why, but you frequently found him glaring at you. You're not sure what you did, but the guy always has an evil eye for you. Especially when you get back from your daily walks through the woods.

That's another thing about your time in Gravity Falls that seems odd to you. You're not sure why, but you're drawn to the wilderness. It's as if something in the forest was calling out to you.

Your mind wanders as your feet carry you deeper into the forest. Your surroundings blur and blend into the verdant brush or golden glow of the setting sun. You don't even realize how long you've been traveling until your limbs begin to ache and nothing around you is familiar anymore. You hear and see nothing resembling that of a human touch, only the steady thrum of the natural world you've stepped into. The final rays of the evening sun light your path as you venture further, a meager attempt to find your way back to civilization. However, you curiously find yourself stumbling upon a mossy mass of stone, and time seems to slow down the moment you do. The trees still, despite the breeze grazing your skin; the birds hover in the air, wings widespread; the wildlife turn their heads towards you yet don't move an inch otherwise. Coming closer, you see a scrawny statue arm reach out to you welcomingly. Your eyes travel over the attached body, the monument shaped like a personified pyramid. You tiptoe around the monolith, studying the odd artwork. A breeze sweeps over you, a shiver working its way down your spine. There's a sudden subtle tickle at the back of your brain and a slight paranoia settles across your skin. Your eyes find the granite gaze of the one-eyed creature, and goose bumps bloom over your flesh. You don't understand it, but you feel a simultaneous urge to flee as well as an overwhelming draw towards the inanimate figure. The contradiction creates a harsh turmoil within you, and you feel frozen, granting your surroundings the perfect opportunity to whisper advice into the wind. You can almost hear an audible "Run!" from the wood, but you can't bring yourself to follow the orders. Instead, your hand hesitantly reaches out to the outstretched hand, your fingers gingerly grasping the stone and wrapping your digits around the stony hand. However, just as your palm settles against the carved rock, fingers grip your wrist and yank you away, pulling you back into a hard chest. And suddenly, time is back on track. You're ripped from your daze as you're spun around to meet a pair of frantic chestnut eyes.

"What did you do?" he screams, shaking you by the shoulders. His face goes pale, deathly so, and the new ghostly shade causes the dusting of freckles over his nose and cheeks to drain along with his rosy completion. You unconsciously frown at that realization.

"What?" you mutter in a trance, your mind rousing slowly from the mental fog.

"What did you do?" he repeats in a panic, the desperation in his voice snapping you out of your stupor.

"Nothing!" you squeak out in defense.

"You don't touch this!" he wails in your face. "Don't ever touch this!"

"I won't!" you cry out, hands pushing at his shoulders and clawing at his fingers gripping painfully at your arms. His eyes are searching, scanning your face and person manically. Looking for what, you don't know. But he stares into your eyes as if expecting something new. Well, new to you, at least. You get the feeling that whatever he thinks he'll find swimming in your irises is something that he is plenty familiar with. When he seems satisfied enough, he pushes you away softly. Instead, he turns to gaze at the granite figure once more. A shaky hand cards through his curly bangs, showing off the constellation of freckles that were previously hidden. The movement nearly nudges his hat off his head, letting it rest haphazardly on his head. After a moment, it seems as though he settles the argument that has been playing out in his head. He grabs your bicep and starts dragging you back to the house, ignoring your protests.

When you make it back to the Mystery Shack, Dipper drags you through the attraction side of the house, stopping in front of a vending machine. He punches in a code before pushing you through the entrance that reveals itself. You're welcomed into a dark, dusty hallway lit only by a gas lantern. You then ride down in a creaking elevator, watching the numbers change through broken display glass. Once the metal elevator gate opens up again, another room is unveiled, and you soon realize that it's the basement laboratory, the one that he specifically, in no uncertain terms, told you to stay out of. You believe it was the first sentence he said to you, actually.

This room is by far more well-kept than his bedroom, but it also seems more lived in. There are contraptions, books, papers, and writing utensils scattered over every surface, but it at least seems like there is controlled chaos.

He maneuvers you to sit on an uncomfortable wooden stool in front of a wall of monitors and computer keyboards. You don't know why you've let him direct you so easily thus far, but you might be more afraid of what would happen if you resisted. He seemed so shaken, unstable even after you touched the statue.

You nearly jump out of your skin as you feel cold metal atop your scalp. You whip around to see Dipper attempting to fit a rusty colander with tubes sticking out of it over your head. You jump up finally, drawing a line in the sand.

"What the hell is going on?" You screech, a heaviness weighing on you as the fog is finally gone and you begin to understand the possible gravity of the situation.

"Relax," he sighs. "It's a cranium scanner. It's harmless. It's just meant to scan your thoughts."

You scoff. "Why do you need to do that? Why should I believe that's what you say it is? Why were you so freaked out about that statue? Why were you even there? Were you following me? You need to work on your communication because you just drag me down here and try to hook up some terrifying machine to me without my permission and without explaining and this is freaking me the fuck out!"

His jaw ticks with every word that quickly leaves your lips. Silently, he lifts the device to his head and fits it on his scalp. The moment he does the monitor comes to life. Green words dance across the screen and mumbles buzz from the speakers. You see and hear phrases like "Fuck, this girl is annoying...I need to run these tests...We have to hurry...gotta make sure he's not back...keep everyone safe, have to keep everyone safe...Man, I'm starving...When was the last time I did laundry?...Nah, that's a waste of time...Disco girllll, coming throughhhh, that girl is youuu...Shit, now that I look at her she's kinda cut—" He rips the machine off his head and clears his throat before shrugging his shoulders and waving his hands as if to say "I told you so" in a single motion. "See? Harmless. Now put this on."

You shake your head. "I still need an explanation."

He sighs out in frustration, taking the stool for himself as he runs a trembling hand over his exhausted features. "Look, this town...it's not normal, okay? There are things here...things that can't be explained...including that statue." You stare at him tentatively, noticing the way his fingers fidget together and his brow shines with sweat. "Just...do this and we will never speak of this again." You watch him for a moment, trying to gauge whether the knot in your stomach is intuition or just nerves over his odd behavior. You don't think you can trust him...but you feel like he needs this...whatever it is. And you hope that it'll calm his erratic behavior. Plus, you're a little amazed by the mindreading device, and you kind of want to know if it's accurate or not. You cautiously step forward, nodding minutely. He rises from the seat and allows you to take it. You do, wiggling around a bit to get comfortable on the incredibly irritating wood panels.

"Can I at least get a better chair?" you grumble.

He actually chuckles, a breath of relief leaving his lips as he nods. He drags an old, velvet-upholstered chair that sits next to a chess table. He smacks the cushion and allows a layer of dust previously caked on the fabric to fly into the air. You can live with it more than the splintering stool. You settle into the seat and allow Dipper to place the appliance on your head.

First comes the shock as all your thoughts are displayed on the monitor at a mile a minute, including the thoughts of your shock. Next comes the processing as you watch Dipper take a seat and start scribbling notes as he observes the monitors. You watch as every one of your thoughts is displayed and you begin to feel exposed as every one of your anxieties are advertised. Taking a deep breath, you let your eyes flutter close, trying your best to relax.

The next moment you open your eyes again something feels off. You scrunch your brow as you look around the room, trying to figure out what's different. Looking over to Dipper, you notice that he's stopped writing. Instead, he sits staring up at the screen. You miss how the screen no longer projects your every thought and only produces static. Your skin bubbles with pins and needles, a sudden chill filling your bones as Dipper remains unmoving with his chin resting on his intertwined fingers. You can't see his face and that alone unnerves you as the silence persists.

You hesitate to speak. "Dipper?"

His hands separate, palms placed flat on the keyboard top. Other than his arms moving, nothing else does. The anxiety is slowly pressing into your chest as you patiently wait for his next action or word. You're beginning to think you should run.

"Y'know," he starts. His voice sounds different, higher pitched, and echoing slightly. "The human mind is such a delicate thing...so fragile and easy to manipulate." He stands then but still doesn't face you. When he turns towards you slowly, his features backlit by the sinister green glow of the monitor, his movements are casual, and he leans back against the desktop with his arms crossed. You can see his eyes. They're different from the chocolate chip orbs that you saw before. Now his pupils consume the entirety of his irises, and it seems as if they're slanted like cat eyes. They almost glow yellow. They nearly remind you of...

He laughs suddenly, wobbily stalking towards you as he shakes his head mockingly. His voice morphs as he continues to make the maniacal sound. It becomes high and pitchy, echoing a shrill, unsettling quality in the sinister cackle that makes your stomach drop. "I mean, look at you! Look at how easy it was to lead you to this moment. You didn't even fight it!" Your hair stands on end at his words and your limbs tremble as you're reminded that you were worried that this would happen. Is it possible to tell yourself 'told you so'? "You just followed me through the woods. I didn't even have to trick you into taking my hand, you curious little thing!" You flinch as Dipper cages you between him and the seat, his face inches from yours as his eyes study you.

"What are you talking about?" You squeak out, your voice finally working once again. Now that he's so close, you know exactly where you've seen such odd eyes before. The statue in the woods.

"Ahh, there it is," he giggles. A hand comes up and grips your chin between his thumb and index. He shakes your head from side to side while pouting at you derisively. "Figure it out?"

"What—how?"

"Hmm, maybe not," he chuckles. He taps a finger into your temple slowly, but the gentle touch feels far more frightening to you, as if it's the calm right before the raging storm. "And here I thought you were a smart girl." His voice has morphed once again, two voices bleeding into one. You hear Dipper's voice being overtaken by that discordant tone that he laughed at you with. His eyes drag down your body then, a darkness seeming to seep into those unsettling ellipse pupils. "It's always odd to look through two eyes. Everything seems so much more...third dimensional. Much more graphic. For instance," his hand cups your throat, the touch so gentle and soft, but there was an obvious threat there, "if I squeeze, I'd be able to see your skin turn red and maybe even blue if I cut off your air for long enough." He absently chuckles, as if lost in the image of what he's imagining. He leans in closer, running his nose along your jaw. "I'd be able to see your veins popping out. Maybe I'd feel your windpipe crushing too." His eyes drift up to yours, as if only now remembering that you're there. He offers a smile that could possibly resemble something sweet, but it only turned your stomach. "Don't worry, Sunshine," he whispers, gently pecking your cheek, "that's not what I want."

"What do you want then?" you ask, your voice surprisingly harsh despite how your insides knot up and your throat feels as if it's closing up.

He chuckles, shaking his head as he pulls his gaze away from your temptingly delicate throat.

"Just saying hi to an old friend," he answers, releasing his hold on your neck and placing his hands on either side of your head. As he leans into you it's as if you're witnessing a real-life glitch as the man in front of you shifts from Dipper to a lanky, tan blonde. Wild locks peek out from a tiny top hat atop his head and sweep over his bangs that cover one of his eyes. He'd look like a normal person if he weren't wearing such a predatory grin that reminds you more of a monster instead of a man, the ethereal yellow glow that radiates off his skin, or the cracks at the edges of his face with a galaxy peeking through the unnatural jagged breaks of flesh. But just as quickly as the image of the new man appeared, it was replaced by Dipper once again. He wiggles his fingers in a small wave. "Isn't that right, Pine Tree?" He stares into your eyes but it's as if he's looking through you, instead. He's not talking to you.

Suddenly, his fingers clamp over the nape of your neck, the painful pressure causing your muscles to tense and you're at his mercy. He uses this to throw you towards the dusty couch along the wall. Now that you're out of his immediate vicinity you try to get up and run but he moves like lightning and he's over you in an instant.

"Sorry, Sunshine," he says as he swings a leg over yours, locking your body in place as it's trapped between his thighs. The image of his body continuously glitches from Dipper to the person you saw before. Your arms thrash as you squirm and kick and try to get away, but he pays no mind to your struggle, capturing your wrists easily in his grasp. His fingers dig into your skin as he grips your jaw painfully. "It's nothing personal. Well, not towards you, at least." He laughs as if he said something so funny, an inside joke only for him. "Actually, I should be thanking you. You freed me, your pretty little mind is going to be my new home. And in light of that, I think you deserve a little treat, huh?" Despite your struggle, the man easily held you down with a hand wrapped around your wrists. His other hand smooths down your sides, goosebumps raising in the wake of his touch. His fingers dig into your cheeks as he presses an open-mouthed kiss against your lips, his tongue slipping in and scavenging your mouth. And the taste of his tongue rubbing against yours is…intoxicating.

It’s like the sweetest of ambrosia seeping into your tastebuds. You feel like you should be fighting more, struggling harder against the man's advances. You feel the way your veins fill with ice at the realization of what he is planning to do. But your mind feels foggy, your movements sluggish and out of your control; the same way you felt while walking in the woods. Your mind is only consumed by the taste of his lips and how it fills your every being. You need more. Your skin feels hot, burning but in the best ways possible. The feeling slowly begins to thaw the ice in your bloodstream as his touch lights your nerves. You vaguely hear the light chuckle in his voice as your lids flutter halfway and you focus on the featherlike trail his fingertips left over your skin.

You open your mouth, but no words leave your lips, and that shrill laugh rings out again.

"See?" he coos, a mixture of Dipper and the other high-pitched voice resonating through the small room. "So easy." His hand releases your wrists, but your limbs stay in place, unmoving even with their newfound freedom. His thumbs knead into your sides as they slip underneath your shirt, slowly rolling the fabric up your body. "Bet Pinetree is squirming in his seat right now. Better give him a show, huh, Sunshine?" Despite every alarm bell in the back of your mind going off, you find yourself agreeing with the strange entity, knowing nothing but the need for more, more, more. His lips curl up into a sinister smirk as he watches the confusion etch into your brows but you do nothing to stop him.

His shirt is ripped over his head in an instant, displaying Dipper’s pale skin and the curly brown hair of his happy trail before his image shift into a mirage of the other man. Golden brick-like tattoo lines and crack of glowing galaxies along his body mar the perfectly tan skin of the unfamiliar man. And the glitches stop, you notice. He is no longer Dipper. He is only the fabricated personified image of the statue in the woods.

Dark fingers that look like they were dipped in ink and absorbed up to his elbows drag over your frame, cutting away each scrap of clothing covering your body. They fall away so smoothly, as if they were merely delicate drapes just waiting for a breeze to brush them away in a gentle sigh. You want to move your hands and cover yourself, but you can’t bring your limbs to listen. They belong to him now. All of you belongs to him now. And the smirk on his face tells you he knows that.

"Wish I had a real body to truly enjoy this, y'know?" He murmurs, gaze hungrily roving over you. He unhurriedly brings himself to lay on the couch chest down between your legs, the dark tendrils of his hands curling below your hips as his head nuzzles into the side of one of your plush thighs. His hair is soft, you notice. Softer than any earthly object. And you are choosing to focus all of your attention on that fact rather than the hungrily look he gives you. "But taste is more of a mental construct, isn’t it? I don’t need a real tongue to thoroughly enjoy a meal." It’s the only warning you receive before a devilish tongue is ravishing your inner walls. Despite his initial nonchalance, he moves quickly to pick you apart with only one muscle. Your eyes flutter shut at the pleasure but just as quickly, a fist closes around your throat and your eyelids fly open once again. "Eyes on me." And you listen, keeping your eyes on the golden iris trained in you as your jaw drops open in a silent scream while he brings you to completion under his skilled tongue. You don’t make a sound until his hand claps down in your thigh, signaling the need for an audible response to your climax. You oblige, letting a high-pitched moan escape your lips. He looks satisfied enough as he comes off of you with a wolffish grin.

You keep your eyes trained on him as he leans over you once again, as if you are incapable of closing them again. You’re not entirely sure if that inability is because of your own will or because of his command. Either way, you watch as the man hovers over you, causing you to jerk when his cock surprisingly taps your sensitive entrance. You look down then, watching the angry red, mushroom head sliding between your folds. Your body seems conflicted, trying both to get away from the friction and seeking to catch the bulbous tip on your weeping opening. You realize that he’s teasing you, however. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know that he won’t do anything until you beg for it. He wants you to beg for it.

You listen to his sinister chuckle, the maddening sound bouncing inside your head…or are you both already inside your head…?

"Oh, you figured it out, Sunshine!" He chuckles in that echoing voice of his. "Now you know what I want, so do it." Your mouth opens without your permission but no words escape. "Oh, c’mon, Sunshine. I know you want it too…just give in."

"Please," the word is barely audible as it escapes your lips, but he hears it, perking up at the sound.

"Please what?"

"Please…please fuck me!" You can’t keep the whine out of your voice as you finally plead for what this has all been building up to. You don’t know this man—Creature? Ethereal being?—or what kind of spell he put on you. All you know is that you need it. Everything will be better once you feel his cock pummeling in and out of you. And that’s exactly what he does, plunging into you the second the last syllable leaves your lips.

The stretch is painful and you aren’t sure if the scream you release is because of the pain of his dick tearing through you or the pleasurable drag you feel on your inner walls. It’s like you want to scream, cry, push him out, but you can’t. You can only take it, take it, take it, just as he orders you to while he snaps his hips into you. You realize that you are crying, but again, you have no idea if the tears are from the wonderful stimulation or the searing shame of this moment. And somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder if Dipper knows. You ask yourself what he thinks of you in this moment and if you even care when you’re being speared on a fat cock.

Again that demented laughter rings in your ears, reminding you of the demon you’ve officially sold your soul to that’s treating your body like his personal property. Maybe that’s his now too, along with your sanity. You can’t seem to say much besides moans and whines and pleas for something you’re not sure you want.

"Oh, I really wish you could see her face right now, Pinetree," he giggles, as if talking to himself. "You’d fucking love it. I know I do." He chuckles then, like he made an inside joke before his hand curls around your throat and makes sure your eyes are on him solely. And he speaks but not to you, to something he’s looking at through you. "But I really wish I could see your face right now. You getting off on this, Little Dipper? I bet you are. Freaks like you and me, we gotta enjoy these little moments when we get them." His grip tightens on your throat then and the panic sets in again. Whatever it was that lulled you into a false state of complacency is gone. You feel the oxygen struggling to fill your lungs as his hips snap faster in and out of you, his lanky fingers bullying your button as you’re starting to swim in asphyxiation.

There’s a twinkle in his eye that was never there before as he watches you struggle. You realize that his sadistic demon is getting off more on torturing you than he has this entire time. The smile that spreads across his face is one you know will haunt your very being. And you hate yourself as his digits circling your clit brings you to release just as your vision blackens at the edges. You barely register the warmth flooding your insides as you’re finally allowed to close your eyes.

You wake again with a start, your body shooting up in the chair again, the odd helmet once again gracing your crown. Your eyes land on Dipper whose back is turned to you and you wander if the nightmare is only restarting again. But when he turns around, you see the dark dusting of color on his cheeks and know that this isn’t the demon you just dealt with. But if the boner in his jeans is anything to go by, you do know that he watched the whole thing.

Dipper clears his throat, awkwardly shifting as he faces you, his hands fruitlessly hovering over his crotch and his eyes refusing to meet yours. "Umm," he squeaks. "I think we need to talk."

If you enjoyed, please let me know!

Goal for part 2 is set up on my Ko-fi ☕️! Thank you! ☺️🫶🏻

Looks like we’re doing Anastasia! I have some cute ideas for this one 🤗

Hey y’all 👋🏼

Ages in bios please!!

PSA!

Hey y’all 👋🏼 I’ve noticed something that I’ve been slacking on lately that I need to address…

Your ages need to be in your bio. I love to see all of the love, reblogs, follows, comments, and requests! It means so, so much to me! But I cannot and will not accept any requests if you don’t have your age in your bio! I try to be diligent about checking every blog that interacts with my work, but you are responsible for your own media consumption. When I say that my work is MINORS DNI, I mean it! My writing is for adults and adults alone. And I hate to do it, but I will block if you don’t have your age in your bios…I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again. Even if you’re 18+ you will be blocked without your age in your bio, bc idk if this will apply to you or not. So please, please, PLEASE have your ages in your bios!

Thank you everyone for your love and support of my writing! And I’m working on your requests and the next parts of current projects, my life has just been a little messy at the moment 😅but I have big plans and great things coming soon!

Thank you for your time! ❤️

Hey y’all 👋🏼

Bibliophile Brew Vol. III

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

Warnings: NSFW. Minors DNI. Fluff, aged-up characters, language, smut, lots of smut, this is just pure smut, threesome(mmf), fingering, oral (f and m receiving), petnames (darling, babygirl, bunny, princess, sweetheart, slut), slight praise, slight degradation, spit-roasting, face fucking, throat bulge, stomach bulge, panty stealing, overstimulation, slight choking, cockwarming. Lmk if I forgot anything! And please enjoy!

Word Count: 3.9k

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A part of you felt bad for throwing away all of the thought and effort it took the boys to get such a last-minute reservation to an elite venue such as Nonpareil…but you can’t currently bring yourself to care as you have the number two hero sticking his tongue down your throat while the number one hero works at your dress’ zipper in the back of their chauffeured car. Yeah…life seems pretty good right now, especially as you feel the peppering of kisses down your neck and a thick hand sliding between your legs, the scarred palm smoothing over the inside of your thigh, dangerously close to your clothed sex. It causes you to shiver and the blonde nipping at your kiss-swollen lips chuckles at the feeling of your trembling body pressed between his and Pro hero Deku’s.

"How-how private is this backseat?" you ask softly, nodding towards the partition as you strain to hold yourself back.

"Soundproof," is the simple answer Izuku gives, but it's enough for you to give an understanding nod before you finally release the deep whine you've been holding onto for so long once Katsuki's lips find that sweet spot behind your ear.

"Mmm, we’ve barely touched you and you’re already such a mess?" He snickers. "We better be careful with her, Izuku." You can’t help the pout that takes over your bottom lip or the crease that dents your brow.

"No, you don’t," you protest, and it’s the most eloquent sentence you’ve managed the entire car ride. The way Katsuki’s brows shoot up makes you feel a bit indignant then. You feel the vibration of a laugh against your skin more than you actually hear it as Izuku brushes his lips up your neck.

"No?" Izuku asks as he presses a wet peck behind your ear, his teeth grazing the cartilage teasingly. "Think you can keep up, princess?"

"Isn’t it unwise to underestimate others?" Bakugo barks out a laugh at that as Midoriya groans behind you.

"Yeah, Deku, you should know better," he snorts. You feel a bit smug until you feel that idle digit on your thigh brought to life, kissing the edge of your panties. Now, you aren’t feeling so superior. But you still refuse to back down from the challenge as determination has been lit in your core, along with something else as those dangerous fingers skim past the fabric barrier. Reaching your smaller hand down, you grasp his wrist, guiding him closer to your waiting pussy.

"Trust me," Izuku groans in your ear as you put on a show for the two men by arching your back into the greenette behind you and making sure to look into carmine eyes with a sultry half-lidded stare. "I won’t be making the same mistake again."

"Be sure you don't," you say as your fingers thread through blonde spikes, tugging the hero into a messy kiss. A pair of scarred hands pry your thighs apart, the cold air tickling your wet entrance. You let out a muffled moan the moment his digit circles your bundle of nerves. It isn't long before Katsuki drags your panties down your legs, his hand soon joining Izuku's in stroking his fingertips through your weeping slit, teasing your entrance. Your grip tightens in the golden locks, tugging Katsuki away for a moment as you crawl onto his lap, your hips coming down to slightly grind your bare cunt on his clothed hardness. A strong pair of hands glide over your ass, squeezing the globes before Katsuki rolls your skirt up further past your hips. Your hand cups the greenette's neck and guides him to your lips as Katsuki's palms skim your freshly uncovered skin. A jagged hand cups your jaw, a surprising juxtaposition to the sloppy kisses you had been sharing before. He coaxes your lips apart, but he doesn't stray far from you, his lips brushing yours as he speaks.

"You want this?" he breathes over your lips, the whisper dancing over your skin and down your spine. Your fingertips graze his jaw, gently cupping his face and making sure his eyes are on yours.

"Yes," you sigh. "I want this." You place a soft peck against his pillowy lips before doing the same to Katsuki's. "I want both of you." And it's all the confirmation needed as Izuku dives into your mouth again, Katuski's lips trail down your throat, over your collarbones, and over your shoulder as he pulls down the sleeve of your dress. The car comes to a stop too soon in front of a house, its privacy preserved by a gate and its distance from any other building. The moment the car comes to a full stop, Izuku wastes no time in opening the door and jumping out. He turns back to you, offering a gentlemanly hand to you. Your eyes look nervously at the partition again, you turn in the seat and look up at Katsuki with a sheepish expression.

"Umm, my panties?" you ask. Katsuki chuckles, reaching down and picking up the flimsy fabric from the floor. He dangles them in front of you before enclosing them in his fist as you try to snatch them up. He smirks at you and your pretty pout, leans in, and presses a barely-there kiss to your cheek.

"Mine now, babygirl," he murmurs against your skin. His palm smooths down your skirt over your thighs. "But why getting so shy on us again? Fucking loved that confidence in you before, princess. We're yours now. Use us. Let us spoil the fuck outta ya. No need to be shy." The softness of his tone betrays the suddenness of his next actions as he scoops you up and passes you over to Izuku who is quick to throw you over his shoulder.

You squeal out a giggle as he does so, your laughter infectious as he joins in. Bakugo chuckles as he follows the both of you at a more leisurely pace, twirling your abandoned panties around on his index. Izuku fumbles a bit with the keys but afterward, it doesn’t take him long to kick open his front door, making a mad dash toward the master bedroom. The moment you enter the room you’re dropped onto the heavenly mattress, staring up at the walking sex symbol you previously viewed as a wholesome green bean. But nothing about the way he looks at you in this moment says wholesome. His crooked hands make quick work of the buttons on his shirt, welcoming you to the view of his exposed scarred skin. Your eyes follow the movement, visually tracing his hands down as they travels towards his belt. He takes this moment to slow down, and you can’t for the love of All Might figure out why that is. You only assume it’s to torture you. Because it truly is torture to watch the man unhurriedly unbuckle the strap of leather locking you out of such a magnificent view. It's almost like time is in slow motion, and you let your impatience be known with a whine that bubbles from your throat. And he meanly laughs at you. His hands leave the work on his belt and you pout at that. His hand instead comes up to cup your chin, drawing your eyes back to his. He leans in and nibbles at your protruding bottom lip until you can't help but giggle. He gently kisses you, his other hand taking yours and guiding it to the half-undone belt. His grip doesn't leave you, however, only holding your hand in place.

He pulls away only a breath apart, looking into your eyes, whispering, "We can take our time, darling." His voice is husky, dripping in utter sex appeal and falling over you like silk. "We have all night. But don't worry, me and Kacchan will take good care of you, sweetness." The promise makes your digits twitch in his hold, your fingertips pressing into the smooth metal of the belt buckle. You barely offer a nod before Izuku straightens his back, offering to let you finish what he started. Your gaze falls onto the accessory in front of your face before looking up at him through your lashes once again. You sit up more, tangling your hands in the curls at the back of his neck and drawing him back into a slow kiss. His huge, jagged hands come up and cup your cheeks, pillowy lips moving languidly against your own. Izuku is right, the three of you have all the time in the world.

Your lips barely leave his skin as you make your way across his cheek, down his neck, trailing over the raised, white skin of the scars on his shoulders, chest, abs, until you make it to that protruding V-line. Your hands languidly unloop the final fastening of the belt. The sound of the accessory falling to the ground rings in your ears and the gentle zip of you opening his pants plants goosebumps over your flesh. You're finding it increasingly harder to believe that this is really happening. The sudden introduction of another warm body tilting the mattress behind you doesn't help convince you that this situation isn't just a fantasy. However, the sensation of quirk-heated hands gripping your hips from behind and the feeling of hot kisses being pressed into your neck is very persuasive.

Your chest heaves as those kisses move up your skin and your hands finally pull away the restricting fabric of Izuku's pants and—oh. No underwear. You glance at Izuku only to find a Bakugo-esque smirk gracing his features. For some reason, that wolfish expression makes your cheeks heat up more than the recent wardrobe discovery. You feel like you're being teased with the look alone.

Speaking of teasing, those hot hands resting on your hips spread out to your thighs, softly scraping back up your skin and hooking his fingers beneath the hem of your dress. He slowly extracts the fabric from your frame, his palms dragging over every inch of you in doing so. The clothing is pulled over your head leaving you in your pretty underwear in front of the two men. You hear them both take in a breath, both still as their eyes traverse over your newly bare body. a flat palm smoothes over your stomach and between the valley of your breasts before gently grasping your throat, pulling you back against the blonde's hard body. His lips are more urgent now, fervently pressing wet, open-mouth smooches into your skin while his other hand coaxs your thighs apart. Simultaneously, Izuku sinks into the mattress, resting on his stomach as your knee part before him. He leaves little nips and pecks along your smooth legs, creating a cacophony of new sensations as he works in tandem with Katsuki’s wandering digits.

When Katsuki steadily rolls his hips into you from behind, Izuku drags your legs over his shoulders. When Katsuki’s grip tightens his hold on your throat, Izuku tugs your panties from your soaking heat, exposing you to the cool air and sending a shiver down your spine. When Katsuki thumbs over your perky nipples through the lacy fabric of your lingerie, Izuku’s fingertips kiss your sensitive clit. It’s one sensation after the other, giving you no reprieve in the onslaught of new stimulations. And they’re so slow in their movements, each caress, each kiss, each whisper of touch torture to your ready and waiting body. You rest your head back against the blonde hero's shoulder your eyes fluttering close and a gasp escaping your lips at the first swipe of Izuku's tongue over your slit.

"He's so good with his tongue, right?" You absently nod before your spine arches at the swirl of his tongue against your entrance. "So sensitive," Katsuki chuckles, his other hand leaving your throat to unclasp your bra. He cups both of your breasts, rolling your nipples harshly and eliciting a whine from you. "How long has it been since someone last touched you, darling?"

"Umm..."

You could feel the rumble of laughter between your legs, the vibrations causing you to whimper and your legs to shake. "If you have to think about it, it's been too long, bunny," Izuku says softly, immediately going back to making a meal out of your pussy. Your fingers tangle into those wild green curls and twist into the loose fabric of the open button-up still hanging over his shoulders.

"Don't worry, we'll take really good care of you," the blonde hero utters against your ear, his hips rutting up into your backside. You can feel the shape of his dick trapped in the confines of his pants. You wonder for a moment if he went commando for tonight too. Your fingers reluctantly unfurl from the greenette's shirt to reach behind yourself and find out. You can't help the tinge of disappointment you feel once you slip your hand into the front of his trousers to find that yes, he did put on boxers. Your dismay must show on your face because his pleased groan is interrupted by mild laughter and he turns your face towards his to nip at your pouted bottom lip. The two of you pant and moan against one another as you then sneak your hand behind your back and beneath his briefs, wrapping your shaking digits around his girth. You take note of the fact that your fingertips don't touch as you glide your palm over his hardness. "Fuck, such a good girl," he groans.

The next moment you're lying on your back. Izuku keeps eating you out like a man starved while Katsuki stands to strip—finally. Your view is upside down as you crane your head back to watch the man peel his shirt off and you nearly drool while he rolls his bottoms down his thick thighs, his dick springing out and popping his abdomen before bobbing in front of your overturned face. He gives himself a few languid strokes before lining up with your kiss-swollen lips. His ruddy cockhead spreads his precum over your mouth. "Ready, babygirl?"

You emphatically nod, parting your lips and sticking out your tongue presenting for him. It's all the confirmation he needs as he slips into your warm, wet cavern. Your lips stretch around him as he slowly feeds every inch of his cock to you. You take a deep breath in through your nose and try to relax your jaw. "Fuck," he groans, taking a lengthy inhale through his nostrils. "Such a good slut. Your mouth feels fucking amazing, sweetheart." You twitch harshly when Izuku laughs against your sopping heat before pulling away and easing two digits into you, resting his chin on his hand while looking up at the two of you.

"She must be the perfect little slut for us," Izuku addresses Katsuki but pinches your clit and adds another finger in acknowledgment. "You're never so quick to praise, Kacchan."

"F-Fuck you," the blonde bites back, voice shaking and muscles spasming over you as your cheeks hollow while sucking the life out of him, your tongue moving over the hardness in your mouth. "Fuuuck yes, darling. Fucking perfect. Shit, Deku, she is fucking—ahh—fucking perfect."

"That right?" The greenette teasingly asks. He pulls himself up on his knees, scissors his fingers before pulling them out, and lines himself up with your entrance. "Let's see how this pussy feels then, yeah? Sound good, bunny?" In lieu of a verbal answer, you desperately grip his forearm, tugging him toward you. He leans over you, gripping your waist as he gradually presses into you. Your back bows the moment he pops past the initial resistance. He runs his thumb sweetly over your side, holding still to let you adjust. With the thick cock in your mouth you can't tell Izuku what you need and instead gently drag your nails along his inner forearm, silently begging him to move. He got the message, pulling his hips back slowly before snapping them into you once again. The motion pushes you up the bed, forcing you to take in more of Katsuki and sputter a bit. But it also offers a new discovery. Bakugo practically salivates at the image of his cock bulging in your throat. He thrusts his hips experimentally, watching the bulge move along with him. His hand comes up to cup your throat, gently pushing down to feel his dick through the layers of muscle and flesh that separate him. "Fuck."

Izuku notices too, a rakish grin taking up his features and his hips pistoning faster in and out of your body just to watch the way you bob on their cocks from his force alone. A strong, scarred arm curls around your waist, lifting your lower half and bending your back. At this angle, Izuku can feel his own cock when he presses his palm into your lower abdomen. He lets out a huff of amusement, experimentally pushing himself in further just to feel his cockhead poking his palm through your stomach. The new angle and the pressure on your lower belly tickle a new spot inside you that makes your toes curl and your eyes squeeze shut. your nails dig slightly into Izuku's arms, leaving trails of raised, red lines of scratch marks on his skin. Katsuki's grip on your throat tightens just a bit more as he pistons his cock into your throat, the lack of air that comes from this being exactly what you need to finally push you over the edge and you gush around the thick girth. Your throat trembles with the moan that ripples through you, the vibrations pull Katsuki into that high along with you, filling your tummy with his hot release. He heaves above you before slowly pulling out his softening cock from your throat. Your jaw aches as he frees himself from your mouth. In doing so, he releases your previously contained moans and you let out a long, loud stream of pleasured sounds as Izuku keeps pounding into you. A breathless chuckle escapes his lips and his rough fingers come up to gently caress your sore jaw. He descends and softly presses an upside kiss into your lips before peppering your face with them. You're surprised that a giggle manages to break through your whines and whimpers as he does so.

"Kacchan," Izuku huffs, his hips still jackhammering into yours. "Fuck, Kacchan, she feels so good. You—ngh—you need to feel how tight she is. Ahh~"

"Next time," Katsuki answers dazedly, delicately running a thumb over your cheekbone and offering you an adoring glance. Hmm, next time. You smile softly at that.

You feel the buzz of electricity in the room. Looking down towards Izuku, you notice the sparks of green tendrils dancing over his limbs and torso as he loses himself to the feeling of plunging in and out of your tight, wet heat. Katsuki's hand sneaks down and circles over your clit, bringing you to another release along with Izuku. The greenetteleans over you, gripping onto Katuski's forearm and holding himself up on his elbow. He tucks his face into the crook of your neck, nipping and pecking your throat. You feel those coils of energy tickle against your skin as well.

"Such a good girl, bunny," Izuku groans against your skin. "Good fucking girl." If it were even possible, he snaps his hips faster. You both are right there at the edge...almost—Katsuki's fingers tangle into green curls and an open, panting mouth is pushed sloppily into yours, a forced, makeshift kiss, as it were. The blonde's digits circling your clit pinch your bundle of nerves and everything comes crashing down. You see white as you arch into the hard body pressed into you, feeling how Izuku's hips grind into yours as you're filled up.

Everything goes still. The only sound that echoes in the room is wet panting, though you're sure the heroes can hear the way your heartbeat drums against your ribcage. After a few minutes of rest, Izuku leans up, his emerald eyes searching you.

"You okay?" His voice sounds so soft and concerned, a complete 180 from the cocky teasing voice he used before. Your throat still feels raw from the monster that had been penetrating it beforehand so you just nod, offering a reassuring smile. He gives you one of his own before pressing a sweet peck to your temple. You both hiss as Izuku slowly pulls himself from your entrance, a gush of your mixed release pooling from you. Strong hands grasp underneath your arms before pulling you up into a firm chest. The blonde cradles you to him as the greenette makes a beeline to the bathroom, returning shortly with a couple of washcloths. He offers one to Katsuki who wipes your drool and cum coated chin before cleaning off his half-hard member. Izuku swipes the warm, damp cloth between your legs, causing your thighs to shake and you to whine at the oversensitivity. Katsuki chuckles, tucking you closer into his side as Izuku walks out of the room again. Thick, callused fingers grip your chin and then you're drowsily staring up into a set of vermillion irises.

"Words this time, sweetheart," he gruffs. "Are you okay?"

"Ye—" you croak out, voice cracking with the strain. Clearing your throat you try again, uttering a simple, soft, "Yes." He smirks at the obvious damage he's caused, a sense of pride overpowering the sheepish guilt that should be filling him. He presses a sweet peck to your temple, scratching his blunt nails soothingly over your scalp and through your tangled, sweaty hair. Izuku is quick to come back with a few water bottles, a bowl of fruit, and a bag of Mighty's potato chips.

The rest of the night is spent being hand-fed snacks while getting to know the two heroes better—naked of course. Eventually, your eyes water with exhaustion and your yawns get in the way of conversation. You fall asleep on the blonde's scarred chest...being speared on his cock to warm him through the night.

You wake up in the same position, nuzzling into the warm chest beneath your cheek. You blink your blurry eyes and look at the greenette tucked into the blonde's side, one scarred hand curled around Katsuki's bicep and the other lazily draped across your lower back. You slowly try to stretch out your sore muscles without waking the two, though you're sure that the inflating cock in your cunt will mean that they'll be awake soon anyway. You turn your head the other way to at least crack your neck and notice someone has plugged up your phone on the nightstand. Aww. You reach over and grab it because at least you can go through it while letting the boys get their sleep. Only, when you turn your cell on, you're bombarded with a horde of message notifications, most of them seeming to be a link. You click on the messages that Sukki sent, a cacophony of 'Are you okay?' 'Have you seen this?!' 'Where are you??' and so on. You click the link to be assaulted by the headline "Two For One? Mystery Girl Spotted With Dynamight and Deku" along with the image of Izuku carrying you over his shoulder, a carefree grin etched into his features, Katsuki twirling your panties on his finger, and you, smiling widely without an ounce of awareness to the camera capturing this perfectly damning image.

"What the fu—"

AN: Okay guys, I have an important question for you. Do we like this open ending or do you want more trio shenanigans? Please let me know!

100 likes, 25 reblogs, and 10 comments asking for a part 4!

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

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PSA!

Hey y’all 👋🏼 I’ve noticed something that I’ve been slacking on lately that I need to address…

Your ages need to be in your bio. I love to see all of the love, reblogs, follows, comments, and requests! It means so, so much to me! But I cannot and will not accept any requests if you don’t have your age in your bio! I try to be diligent about checking every blog that interacts with my work, but you are responsible for your own media consumption. When I say that my work is MINORS DNI, I mean it! My writing is for adults and adults alone. And I hate to do it, but I will block if you don’t have your age in your bios…I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again. Even if you’re 18+ you will be blocked without your age in your bio, bc idk if this will apply to you or not. So please, please, PLEASE have your ages in your bios!

Thank you everyone for your love and support of my writing! And I’m working on your requests and the next parts of current projects, my life has just been a little messy at the moment 😅but I have big plans and great things coming soon!

Thank you for your time! ❤️

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."

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helloooooo i wanted to ask to see if you’ll write a bakudeku x fem!chubby!reader smut, where reader has hip dips and stretch marks and isn’t proud of them. but then deku and katsuki come along and show her what she’s not seeing in herself.

if you don’t feel like doing this then please ignore thanks >.<❤️

First off this is my first inbox ask and I cried a little bit when I saw it! Thank you so much for reading and sending this ask! I’m so excited and I would love to do this! I actually already had something in the works as a comfort piece for myself and this was just the motivation I needed to finish and post it! Hope you enjoy!

Convincing

Warnings: NSFW. 18+ only. Minors DNI. Aged-up Characters, threesome (mmf), pre-established poly relationship, angst with happy ending(s—see the double meaning there? *wink wink*), hurt-comfort, horrible self-image, internalized fatphobia, a little self-indulgence writing, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, dirty talk, slight praise kink, slight degradation but in a good way. Please lmk if I missed anything!

This was more of a plot with porn because I wanted to end it on a sweet note that I had, but I’m happy to add a second part with more smut if you want—this honestly ended up being more of a self-healing writing experience featuring my own struggles with my insecurities than I had wanted, and I’m sorry if this isn’t what you were expecting anon, but sometimes that’s just where the writing takes me. I can always add another dirtier part but I hope that you still enjoyed it! Please lmk!

50 likes, 15 reblogs, and 10 comments asking for a part 2!

Word Count: 2.5k

It was supposed to be a nice surprise for your boys. You were supposed to look so cute and sexy, just for your heroes. But looking in the mirror, you don't feel that way. Your chest is practically spilling out of the pretty black material with orange and green trim, and not in a way you like. You had bought a set for both Izuku and Katsuki with the release of a line of hero lingerie, hoping that the night might turn into something that could take their minds off work after such a stressful week, but looking at the Dynamight set you're sporting, you suddenly don't feel like it. You feel uncomfortable in your skin as you stare at the reflection, thinking about how it looked so much better on the model. And suddenly that thought is ruining the makeup you'd spent so much time perfecting.

You wanted to look and feel so pretty, but now you just look and feel like a mess. You have no idea what was wrong either. You bought the right size with the cutest garter and stocking to go with the sets...and you were so excited for them to arrive! You'd done your hair and makeup, you shaved and moisturized every inch of skin that you could, you put on your favorite perfume (coincidentally Katsuki's favorite too), your favorite lipgloss (coincidentally Izuku's favorite too). You felt good about yourself...until you put on the first set. You hate the way it looks on your body...but maybe it's just the specific set! Maybe it's just that the cut wasn't falling right on your figure. You have a newfound hope as you strip the Dynamight-inspired set and replace it with the green lingerie that matched Deku's hero suit. You even switch out the black stockings for a pair of red ones to match his signature red sneakers.

But again, your smile falls as you face your glass reflection. Your eyes begin to scrutinize every imperfection and you watch the tears roll down your face and smudge your makeup. Your hands gently graze your breasts, trailing down over your stomach, fingers tracing the stretchmarks there before continuing their track over your hips, diving with their dips and flaring out over your thick thighs. Your nose scrunches up and your mouth pouts out as your breathing picks up angrily with your irate sobs, your frustration rolling off of you in waves.

You're so stuck in your head about how upset you feel over your own body that you don't even hear Izuku opening the front door and padding through your apartment. He opens his mouth to call out for you when his pro-hero-level hearing tunes into your small hiccups and whimpers. His bright smile falls immediately, and he resists every urge to activate One For All to speed over to where he could hear your quiet cries. His steps are so soft as he peeks through your bedroom door, seeing you in the cutest lingerie that perfectly shows off the lovely curves he and Kacchan adore so much. And it's designed after his hero suit! But...he can't understand your sobs. Why would you be crying while looking like such a perfect vision?

"Bunny?"

It's like a switch. Your sobs go silent, your shoulders tense, and your arms curl around your torso. But how could you be so cruel to obscure Midoriya from his favorite view?

"Bunny, what's wrong?"

You scoot over to your bed gently, pulling the top blanket over your shoulders. You refuse to show your face with your back towards him. "Hey, honey, I wasn't expecting you to be here so soon." Your voice was broken and shaky, tearing little holes into his heart with each syllable. "I was just...changing."

"Bunny...I-I'm actually a little late..." He watched you freeze before hearing your desperate attempt to lighten the mood with a breathy little laugh.

"Oh, I must have lost track...I'm almost ready. Just finishing up. I'll be out in a minute."

"Bunny..."

You shuffled around in a hurry, busying yourself with getting ready. "Really, I'll just be a moment if you'd like to wait in the living room. Or you could go wash up. I'm sure work was a bit hectic."

"Bunny." His voice was stern and you froze in your frenzy of pretending to be okay. He walked up behind you, slowly, cautiously. He gently placed his hands on your stiff shoulders and urged you to turn around. He maneuvered your body to face him, but you refused to look up into his emerald eyes. His fingers grip gingerly at your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. He's always loved your eyes glistening and the sight of your makeup smudged, but it was always under different, much more passionate and erotic circumstances. But this—the broken and deer-in-headlights look on your face—this he didn't love. "Talk to me, pretty girl."

Something just...breaks inside you and the tears start up again. You feel so vulnerable, so...not pretty, that you don't know how to react other than to push at his hard chest as hot, angry tears roll out of your eyes. He barely budges from his spot though as you attempt to throw him off you. How dare he? How dare he call you pretty when you look like this? When you had mascara streaking down your ruddy cheeks and your skin was spilling over the cursed set strangling your body? How could he look at you so sweetly and so adoringly? His arms enveloped you, pulled you into his chest, and shushed you sweetly. "Bunny, please talk to me. What's wrong?" You shook your head against his chest, a denial on the tip of your tongue. "Don't say it's nothing. It's not nothing." You push away from him again, nearly stumbling back. Before he could utter another word, however, a gruff voice made itself heard.

"What's going on here?" The both of you turn to look at the ruby eyes that bore into you. Your arms instinctively wrap tighter around yourself, hiding away from the second gaze that was roaming over your blanketed body. As the silence grew more potent, Katsuki's trained eyes studied the two of you, a brow twitching at the sight of your tear-streaked face. "You two get into a fight?"

"No, no," Izuku immediately defended, flailing his arms in front of himself as if the motion would swipe away the thoughts in Kacchan's head. "Not fighting...Bunny, however, is keeping something from us."

Us. So alienating. They had a habit of doing this, of teaming up against you when it was for your benefit. You want to say you hate it but, typically, that was a lie. However, tonight was an exception. And you hated how they were so determined to pull back the curtains that kept you hidden and protected from their pity and false flatteries.

"Oh, yeah?" Katuski takes a step closer to you, his heavy combat boots booming across the flooring. "What're you hiding, Teddy Bear?"

Your nose wrinkles, your brows pull together, and your hands push against a solid chest. "Nothing." You turn your head away from the two, your eye catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and your scowl only deepens before you turn your head away, grip tightening on the blanket around you.

"Seriously?" Katsuki tsks. "You gonna fuckin’ lie to me, pretty girl?"

"Can you both just stop that?" You feel the fury rising from your gut. You can't even verbalize what you’re feeling to yourself yet the two men are demanding answers from you about it, teasing you with such a cruel nickname. And you just have to put a stop to it.

"Stop what?" Izuku pleads. "Stop asking what's wrong?"

Katsuki's eyes squint at your figure. He noticed how you bristled when he addressed you moments before. "Or stop calling you 'pretty girl'?" He definitely sees your shoulders stiffen more at that. Bingo. Izuku's eyes go wide at that, noticing the chilliness in the air suddenly. "I'm not gonna stop calling you that, it's the truth."

"Bullshit," you grumble lowly.

"'Scuse me?" Katsuki snaps back. Your head rolls back on your shoulders, a bratty huff releasing in an exhale. Turning around, you finally look the explosive blonde in the eye with your own eyes rimmed red and an impassive expression marring your lovely features.

"You heard me," you slowly utters, your tone eerily calm. "Stop calling me pretty. It's just bullshit." Izuku looks as if you had physically smacked him with your words, his eyes going wide and teary. Katsuki looks like you'd just insulted his mother—well, maybe not his mother—but like you'd just dragged All Might's good name through the mud.

"Oi!" he snaps viciously, his body immediately moving towards you, rough hands grabbing at your face, fire in his eyes. "No one talks about my girl that way! Not even you!" Scoffing, you slap his hands away, though you refuse to back down. Instead you retaliate by getting in his face. You and Katsuki had that bad habit of refusing to back down. Whether you were right or wrong, it didn't matter.

"You cannot seriously tell me that this is pretty!" Dropping the blanket, you turn away from them and back to the mirror, your hands clawing at every imperfection that you had picked apart beforehand, fingers pinching at the bits of cellulite and the stretchmarks that outline your skin. You're so busy marking off your least favorite parts of yourself, your eyes blurring with the frustration spilling out in salty droplets, that you don't notice the looks in their eyes. "Can you honestly tell me that you find this pretty?"

"Yes," Katsuki stresses, his frustration seething into that single word heavily. "How fucking dense are you, bunny?"

With a wrinkle of your nose, you open your mouth to spit back a retort, but it soon dies in your throat at the meek sound of your greenette boyfriend.

"Do you think these are ugly?" Izuku spoke up, voice watery and broken. Your eyes meet him in the mirror as he pulls up his sleeve, showing off the scars sporting the previously mangled and crooked limb. Your wrath ebbed at the inquiry. A hand ran shakily through your hair, an unsteady breath tickling past your lips. You turn towards him, noticing the tears shining in his gemlike irises that you hadn't noticed through the looking glass.

"Izuku..." you breathe out softly. "You know that's not what I meant."

"But how's it different?" He pesters, a scoff rising from his throat as he rips his shirt off. “These marks are apart of me now, and no, I don’t think they’re pretty, but every time I think of you and Kacchan, I remember why I have them. And…every time I look at them I remember when you’ve touched them or kissed them. I look at them now and I don’t remember the pain of getting them. I remember how you made them feel special and beautiful.” He stomped over to you at that, hooking his hands on the backs of your knees and sending you falling against the mattress, your body splayed out just for them. “And now, I’m gonna show you exactly how you made me feel about my scars.” His lips hungrily claim yours, a surprising contrast to how his fingers ghost over the sides of your stocking-covered thighs, and then drag up to your hip dips, then your love handles before localizing his grasp to your waist while his thumbs trace over the stretch marks weaving up your stomach. He barely pulls away from your addictive mouth to breathe against your lips, pulling a shiver from your body. “How’re you so blind? Do you really think that this wouldn’t get to me? To us?” His hips grind into yours, pulling small moans from both of your throats at the slightest friction against his achingly hard dick. “God, look at whatchu do to me, bunny…look at whatchu do to him.” His fingers dig gently into your cheeks to turn your attention to your other boyfriend who strokes himself through his sweats, bottom lip slotting between his teeth. The blonde makes a show of pulling out his hardness from the confines of his sweats, gripping the base and groaning before tugging slowly, as his eyes never leave yours. Despite knowing that cock intimately—its shape, its weight, its velvety drag against your sensitive walls—you still blush whenever you see it and its true size in comparison to his meaty hands. The sight always leaves you to wonder how it ever fits inside you. "See that, bunny?" Katsuki let out a chuckle as you mindlessly nod your head in answer.

"Whatcha gonna do about it, honey?" The blonde asks while slowly stroking the monster between his legs. "You gonna let us show you how pretty you are?" Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, your eyes downcast, and your stomach turns, trying to push down the negative feelings that arise at the word. A rough hand reaches out and grips your chin, turning your eyes to the pair that stare down at you. "Why do you hate being called pretty so much? You're perfect, baby, we want you to believe that."

You can't help the way that your voice comes out in such a soft lilt. "I don't know how to believe that..." And the sound just breaks your boys' hearts.

A scarred hand comes up to tilt your head back, sets of vermillion and viridian eyes gazing into your own. Izuku leans down, his lips brushing over yours while whispering, "Take your time, we'll prove it to you," before he surges forward to capture your mouth in a sweet kiss. He barely pulls away from you to stare into your eyes, silently conveying his pure need for you to understand his words. His lips slowly start to pepper your lips, the corners of your mouth, cheeks, nose, jaw, neck...and then another set of lips was pressing into your temple, traveling down to your nose, making their way back to your lips. Hands are everywhere, gently grazing your breasts, trailing down over your stomach, fingers tracing the stretchmarks there before continuing their track over your hips, diving with their dips and flaring out over your thick thighs. A gentle set of palms rest against your knees for a moment before tearing them apart as a body is slot between them. The finger swiping through your core over the fabric sends a strong shiver up your spine and a moan bubbling in your throat.

Katsuki chuckles while watching your reaction. “Doin' somethin' right, Deku. Our girl is so sensitive.”

“Love how responsive she is,” Izuku groans, nose nudging at your puffy lips through your panties before a tongue shyly pokes out, making your legs twitch. Izuku huffs out a laugh as he pulls your underwear to the side to appreciate your shaved pussy. “Aww, you put in all this effort for us, bunny? You didn’t have to do that. We love how you are always.” Before another bratty response can come out of your mouth, a warm, wet muscle is swirling around your clit tentatively. Yeah, that effectively shuts you up and shuts out those ugly insecurities floating in your mind.

You barely register the mirthful lilt of Katsuki’s laugh as he watches Izuku work. “Gone dumb already, bun? Is that whatchu need, huh? Need us to wipe your mind clean and start from scratch to make you believe that you’re beautiful? Then so be it, honey. I’ve got all the fucking time in the world, baby.” He nearly rivals Izuku’s sinful tongue tracing his and Katsuki’s names in kanji over your clit with those words of his. Every time he opens his mouth in the bedroom is a work of fucking art, and this moment was no different as the men wear you down and pick your body apart in the best way possible. “Oh, you got nothing to say now, bunny? Good. You just shut up, lay back, and let us take care of our gorgeous girl. It’s all about you tonight.”

And they do. In every sense of the word, they take care of you. In the way that Izuku’s mouth slurps up your arousal and teases your entrance with a set of crooked fingers, in the way that Katsuki spills pure filth and praise from his lips while he strokes his cock in front of your face, showing and telling you all the ways that you make his body crave yours, in the way that Katsuki’s fingers soothingly drag through your sweaty locks as Izuku brings you to your first orgasm, and in the way that Izuku just doesn’t stop worshipping your body or your sweet pussy. Your boys know how to take care of their beautiful girl.

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!

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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 >

Is Bibliophile Brew going to be out soon ? , no rush 🤍

Hey! Thank you so much for your interest in Bibliophile Brew! It really means so much to me that people seem to enjoy this!

And I know that I have mentioned this in another ask, but again I want to say that I’m so sorry for the delay! While we have met the goal of reposts and likes for part 2, life kinda caught up with me in the form of ✨college finals and graduation✨🥲 Honestly, I hadn’t expected to reach the goal for part 2 for a while from my previous post activity 😅 so I am really happy that this fic is doing so well!

I’m almost finished with my last semester of college and haven’t had as much time as I thought I would to finish writing the second part. However! I graduate May 11th and then I will have SO MUCH FREE TIME! For now, I’m working on the second part during my free time, but it’s just a bit difficult with everything going on. But it is coming!!

Thank y’all again for your patience! Make sure to put on notifications too if you’re following for when I do post part 2! 🧡💚

heyyyy , don’t mean to rush you or seem rude but , is Bibliophile Brew going to be out soon ? ( love you and your work 🩷)

Heyyy 👋🏼 thank you so much for your interest in my writing!! It really means so much!

And we’re so close to me releasing it! I’m just waiting for 100 like and 25 reblogs on the first part of Bibliophile Brew before posting part 2! I just gotta set these goals for myself and my writing as a little motivator. And I’ll put the goal at the beginning of each post. So make sure to share with your fellow bkdks!

However, as we get closer to May, it may also take a little bit longer even if we meet the goal. I’m in my last semester of college so I’m dealing with finals and graduation until May 11th. I’m working on the second part in my moments of free time, but it’s just a bit difficult with everything going on. But it is coming!!

Anyway, thank you so much for your patience! It means so much that so many people seem to like this fic! I can’t wait for everyone to read the next part! And thank you again! 🙏🏼😊

Studying manga textures + drawing unhinged teens. Blackwhip is surprisingly relaxing to draw?

Bibliophile Brew

Pairings: Bakudeku x barista!reader

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

Warnings: SFW. No smut, but (bc I'm me) it may be included in part 2, so Minors DNI. Fluff, aged-up characters, minor SA mentioned briefly but not described (old perv gets handsy with a teenage barista), language, misunderstanding, eventual BKDK x reader. Lmk if I forgot anything!

I’ll release part 2 when this reaches 100 likes and 25 reblogs!

Word Count: 5.5k

God, the morning rush sucks. You wish something more creative or productive was swimming in your head while looking at the long line of impatient people crowding the cafe. You send a silent prayer that you don’t catch whatever illness plagued your morning barista that caused her to call out so suddenly before her shift that caused you to cover for her…on your one day off. Sometimes helping with running your family's business sucks.

"Thank you, and have a great day!" you say sweetly as you hand the customer their order before rushing back to the cash register for the next order. The entire morning was a back-and-forth of rushed orders, messily thrown together coffees, and half-listened to thanks. Luckily, most were your regulars, and you had a fairly solid routine down for the typical orders. It was all going very smoothly for a solo shift. Until near the end of the rush when some new people came in.

The dwindled crowd of customers parted like the Red Sea with the presence of a spiky-headed blonde with red eyes and a bubbly man with a black cap over a head of curly green hair. That man stopped to talk to a few of the customers who swarmed him, pulling the mask down his face and offering a dazzling smile. The other man's face fell into indifference while his partner busied himself with chatting, and he made his way up to the front of the line as the rest of your customers broke formation in crowding the other man. If you hadn't been so sleep-deprived from the closing shift the night before and running around the entirety of the opening shift, you might have recognized the customer in front of you and his friend as pro heroes number one and two in their streetwear, but you were dazed and too tired to realize that fact. You give your signature customer service smile—the exact same one that you give to all your customers—and then ask for his order. In a gruff, perpetually agitated tone, he recites his and the other man's orders. The rest of the cafe seems to be bursting with nervous energy, something you dismiss, thinking that maybe these people know each other (you don’t know them so can’t rule it out)—the green-haired man certainly is friendly enough with everyone to have so many connections—or maybe these men were idols—they both are by far pretty enough, and it's not like you'd know either way since your life was far too busy to keep up with the trending celebrities. But something about them does strike you as familiar...whatever, you don't have time to ruminate on that now.

You scribble down both orders and you utter the simple question, "Name?" without looking up while you're writing. A moment passes and you look up at the blonde, confusion hitting you at the shock on his face.

"You...don't know my name?" He almost scoffs while asking the question, and a huff of a breathless, disbelieving laugh passes his lips as if that explanation is utterly ridiculous.

"Umm," you felt stuck. If you answer honestly, you have the feeling that he would take offense. If you lie, well, you don't lie. You hate liars and you've learned that dishonesty has a way of making any situation worse. Not to mention, he would be expecting you to write his name on the cup, and you seriously doubt your ability to pull a name out of your ass and be right about it. "I—umm—should I?" Yeah, he seems mad, or at least, incredulous at the idea that you don't know who he is.

He opens his mouth to respond but before a syllable leaves him, the green-haired man comes behind him, patting him on the back while sending you a charming smile over his shoulder. He maneuvers to stand next to his partner, circling the three of you in your own conversation. "You can just put it under Kacchan," he says sweetly, smiling brightly. The blonde scoffs while the greenette pulls out 10,000 yen from his wallet and hands it to you. You scramble to gather his change before he waves off your slightly panicked monetary calculations. "You can keep the change."

"But..." you're dumbfounded while staring at the half-collected change in your hands. "But I can't—I mean, you're order was only 1,700 yen–"

"He said take the fucking change!" the blonde bursts out, crossing his arms with a scowl and sending your shoulders jumping from the harsh sound. "Just be grateful for it! Geez!"

“Kacchan!” The green-haired man pats the blonde's arm soothingly with a juxtaposed pointed look on his facial features.

"I-I am grateful!" you stammer, bowing slightly to the two men. "I apologize, I just didn't want to unwittingly take advantage and wanted to be certain. It-it was just a bit shocking, is all."

"Oh, no need to apologize!" The greenette man begins to ramble, shaking his hands in front of himself. "I really appreciate your integrity! It means a lot! Not a lot of vendors are so honest, so it is a really admirable quality! N-not that I meant that I don’t trust workers! I’m not making a generalization to your profession or anything! We're sure you work very hard and that it’s a difficult job! You know, you just hear all these horror stories about service industry jobs and the sort of nightmare customers you're sure to put up with. Not that anyone in here seems like a nightmare customer! Though, I am sure that you put up with plenty of those kinds of customers too...I'm sure that we seem like nightmare customers...Just ignore Kacchan, he's always had an--umm--explosive personality. But consider this as a tip. Not that--uhh--not that it looks like you need it or anything! This isn’t charity...It's more like an apology, I guess. The point that I was trying to make is please keep the change and please don't feel uncomfortable about it at all." He ends his ramblings with a somewhat nervous smile and a slight blush over his cheeks, which oddly enough, eases your own anxiety. You offer a shy smile and nod.

"Thank you, sir," you say as you put the change back into the till. You give them the receipt and move to make the drinks, finally noticing the amount of eyes that are on the two customers. Were they all watching?

You make the new order with lightning speed and accuracy, giving them their drinks with a sweet smile and a friendly, "Thank you, and have a great day!" The boys smile at you—well, the green-haired man smiles and the blonde offers a half-hearted nod of recognition—and you hop right back into your flow, taking the next customer while the blonde grabs the greenette’s arms to drag him away from heading to the door and instead taking the corner booth. You can't help but notice the number of people whose eyes are instantly drawn to the two, even as you're taking orders from your newly distracted patrons. Eventually, the crowd dissipates, each customer making sure to pay a visit to the corner booth before leaving. You can't help the way your eyebrows pull together at the way everyone is acting towards the two. You decide that they have to be idols or something, but it's not your place to ask or bother them about it. They're your customers, their business is their own.

With the sudden lull of having only a few patrons left, you start making the cleaning rounds, wiping down every inch of your parent's cafe with disinfectant, bouncing from table to empty table, picking up trash, and cleaning every surface. You try not to let your eyes drift to the mystery men, but you can't help the way your curious mind keeps drifting back to them. You could swear that they look familiar, though you're also sure that you would remember two handsome faces such as theirs.

While you're distracting yourself by cleaning the front glass on the display case, you feel an unnatural heat coming from behind you. Turning your head, you jump back into the glass case, startled by the blonde's sudden appearance and close proximity. You gather that this man isn't well-versed in social normalities, otherwise he wouldn’t be invading your space. He's not even phased by your skittishness, though you're suddenly sheepish about your dramatic reaction.

"Sorry," you stutter softly, nervously scratching a nail at the back of your ear. "Can I help you?"

"Sorry," he huffs, turning away instantly to pout at the ground.

"Umm, I don't—"

"For earlier," he interrupts. “It’s been brought to my attention that I was apparently being rude.”

"Oh no!" You wave off nervously, smiling sheepishly. “It’s really okay! No need to apologize.”

"SEE??" He snapped, whipping around to face the other man who was sitting at the booth shaking his head in his palms. The sudden shout pulls a small yelp from your lips in surprise. "I told you, ya damn nerd! Making a big deal outta nothin'!" You look away bashfully, your face hot when the few remaining patrons direct their attention towards the two of you. You turn to walk back behind the counter but you're stopped by an arm that reaches out between you and your exit route to lean against the freshly polished glass. You pout at the new smudges and meet his vermillion eyes with your own sad ones. His eyes study you for a moment, looking for something on your features. You felt like a bug under a microscope with the scrutiny you felt from his glare. "So, before...did you really not know who we are?"

"Umm," your eyes dart to the side, noticing the other man dragging his feet towards his comrade. You suddenly feel cornered, wishing that you could be back behind the safety of the counter. "I—sorry..."

"Hey," the emerald-haired man smooths, "no need to apologize. We should just introduce ourselves. I'm Midoriya Izuku, and this is Kacch—I mean, Bakugo Katsuki." Oh. Those were names that you knew. You stand stunned for a moment, tired eyes wide and a blush spreading at the embarrassment of not knowing before.

Bowing your head, you shyly say, "It is nice to meet you both."

While you're still bowed to the two men, a look passes between the both of them over your head. By the time you lift your face again, their eyes are back on you and your eyes are shifting to look at anything besides the bulking pro heroes in front of you as you give your name.

"It's nice to meet you, as well," Midoriya says while Bakugo folds his arms over his chest and nods in acknowledgment. "The tea was amazing, by the way."

"Thank you," you softly reply. "It's a fan favorite here. My mom taught me how to brew it perfectly."

"Well, it was delicious," he answers. "Your mother taught you well." Your lips turn up bashfully as you nod.

"I'll be sure to let her know, thank you."

"The coffee was good," Bakugo muttered. His voice was so quiet, you nearly missed it, already used to his typically booming voice since you met him the mere hour beforehand. You weren't expecting him to express his delight in the drink, and you could tell that he was one to withhold such approval. Your smile couldn't help but widen at his comment, instant pride filling your gut with flutters at the praise. While his words fill your stomach with butterflies, the brightened expression on your face sends the pro heroes' stomachs flipping.

"I-I'm glad you enjoyed it," you beam. A moment passes between the three of you, eyes flickering between one another before the front door rings with a new customer. "I-I should get back to work...but, let me know if you want anything." You smile sweetly and scoot away from the men, padding around the counter to welcome your new patron with a sugary, “Welcome to the Bibliophile Brew.” Katsuki smirks as he watches you kindly speak with your customer, turning to Izuku and leaning in to lowly say to him.

"I know what I want."

Some days you cursed yourself for being such a good daughter. Days like today when you sat crammed into a corner booth to keep an eye on the cafe while also juggling between the reading assignment you had for your college literature class and organizing the barista schedule for the next two weeks—a task infinitely more difficult now that you had two baristas out because of sickness. Thank God for Michi who agreed to take a couple extra shifts in their place, taking a bit of the load off of you!

While your new load of responsibility was exhausting, you figured that it was the least you could do for your poor parents who had to travel across the country to take care of your grandparents in their old age. You wanted to help your family as much as possible while your parents were away, meaning that for the rest of the summer, you’d be bouncing between your summer classes and managing the cafe. Luckily, you decided not to take on too many classes during the off-season, and what you did enroll in were all online courses, so you could focus on the classes in your own time—though that time was becoming less and less with the sudden boom in business the last few days. Word got around that your parents’ cafe was a hang-out spot for pro heroes—not true considering the number one and two heroes only came in that one time—but the rumor still helped business so you weren’t going to complain about the sudden influx of cash.

You also weren’t going to turn down more tips for yourself and your baristas. Apparently, someone had also posted a video of Deku’s rant on the difficulties of the hard-working service-industry employee and the importance of tipping—not what you thought was the intent of his rambling but you still appreciated the sentiment of it—and people just took off with it. You noticed an inflow of better tippers and friendlier customer-barista exchanges since then. The impact that a simple video with the Symbol of Peace had over a nation was astounding to you. It left you in complete awe of his incredible influence.

“Hey, boss,” Sukki’s voice called out, bringing you out of your Deku daydreaming, and reminding you of the focus you should be having on your mountain of work. Turning your eyes up, you take a look at Sukki’s concerned features through your reading glasses. Your mind immediately drowns in word, and you begin looking past her around at the café.

“What’s wrong? Something happened?” She’s place is a hot cup on the table in front of you.

“Nothing happened,” she says. “Everything is running smoothly. Almost perfectly.”

Your brows pull together and confusion. “Then—”

“So smoothly in fact,” she interrupted, kneeling at the side of the booth, and looking up at you gently, as if speaking with a toddler, “that we don’t even need you here.” She gently prize the schedule paper from your white-knuckle grip.

“But—”

“How much sleep did you get last night?” Ooh, you did not want to answer that. However, you didn’t have to verbally answer since the way your face contorts into a cringe is answer enough. “Go home, get some sleep. Me and the girls can figure out the schedule for you.“

“But you shouldn’t have—”

“And you shouldn’t be working yourself like this. It’s unhealthy.” You want to argue, but you can’t, so instead you pout.

“Why did you bring me a coffee then?”

“It’s hot chocolate. I don’t like giving you any sugar, but I also know that you need a treat, it’s better than another cup of coffee.”

“So you're trying to make sure I crash on sugar, then?”

“At least you may actually get some sleep, then.“ You snort and roll your eyes, trying to hide your touched smile behind the lid of your cup. Suki has known you since your high school days, having started as a classmate, then best friend, which led to being coworkers, too. Because of this Sukki would take care of you, whenever you would be teetering on the edge of burnout, which was often as of late. He struggled to take breaks for yourself, fearing that your responsibilities will pile up, and you’d eventually let everyone else down.

“Can I at least finish the reading?”

She takes a moment to consider this before sighing. “Fine. But if you’re staying here, you’re not working.” She swipes the handwritten schedule from the table and holds it out of your reach. “And I am taking this. Now, finish your homework, so you can go home and sleep.” You offer her a two-finger salute as she walks away, mumbling about how she doesn’t understand why you’re still handwriting your stuff.

After a while of reading, the words begin to blur together, and your eyes grow heavy. The hot chocolate—half drunk and lukewarm now—seems to be the only thing your tired eyes could focus on. For the past moments—God only knows the true measurement of time, but it only felt like a mere few minutes—your gaze had been trained on your abandoned beverage instead of the words dancing over the numerous pages. You didn't look away from the abnormally interesting cup until a tall figure plopped into the booth seat across yours, a large shadow being cast over the object of your attention. The sudden presence drew your eyes to your unexpected visitor and to say you were shocked by the identity of your mystery guest would be an understatement. You gape at the green-haired pro hero sitting across from you, smiling brightly, his eyes sparkling underneath the curls falling in front of them.

"Umm..." You look around, wondering if you were seeing things correctly or if you had actually fallen asleep in the booth and were now dreaming. But looking around the cafe, everything seems normal, except for the amount of eyes on you and your surprise guest. Your eyes fall back into Deku as you swallow thickly. "Hi?"

"Hey!" he beams, the freckles and dimples on his face becoming more apparent with the brightness if his features as he spoke. "It's nice to meet you again," he says sweetly, and you can't help the way your stomach flutters or how your heart picks up pace, a flush filling your cheeks.

"Yeah, it's nice to see you, too," you reply. "You here for another matcha?"

He chuckles a bit, flattered that you remember his order from his first visit. "Well," he states, leaning forward with his elbows on the tabletop, his voice lowering, "I couldn't think of anywhere else I could get tea as delicious as yours."

You didn't know what his was about that compliment that sent your heartbeat racing. Maybe it was his pretty virescent eyes trained on you or maybe it was the hush in his voice that made it feel as if his words were meant for you and you alone, but whatever it was, the comment had your face flaming.

"Thank you, Mr. Deku," you bashfully say. "I'm not sure I'm deserving of such high praise."

"You are," he states matter-of-factly. "And you can call me Midoriya. I doubt that I'm much older than you are, and I'm definitely not old enough for 'Mr.'" He teasingly cringes at his own use of the title, causing a giggle to slip from your lips. You don't notice the pride that puffs out his chest as he watches you laugh, knowing that he caused such a sweet sound to bubble from your throat.

"Sorry," you say, your tone much lighter and relaxed after your small giggle fit. "I won't make that mistake again, Midoriya."

"Please don't," he chuckles. He nods towards the book sitting on the tabletop with your hand resting atop the open pages. "So, business or pleasure?"

"School, actually," you answer, tucking your bookmark between the pages and closing the book to offer the pro hero your full attention.

"Oh, then both." You giggle again and he can't help but join you until Sukki stops at the table with Deku's tea and a second hot chocolate for you.

"Your tea, Mr. Deku," Sukki says tightly, obviously starstruck and nervous, it reminds you of Deku's early interviews where he seemed so frightened of the camera. It only worsens when he flashes her his number one hero smile, followed by a sweet and peppy, "Thank you!"

Sukki squeaks a bit, face flushing, and she bows slightly as she utters, "Umm, my pleasure, sir!" When she straightens her spine she gives you a pointed what-the-hell-is-happening-here look which you answer with a subtle I-have-no-idea shrug. You decide that you should get some answers.

"So, is there anything I could do for you, Midoriya?" He stops to look you in the eyes, the cup stalling in mid-air before completing its journey to his lip. He chuckles and sets the beverage onto the countertop.

"You assume I have an ulterior motive for being here?" You shrug, not wanting to offend him with an accusation, but that's exactly what you were implying.

"I'm just curious why you want to sit with a stranger."

"But we're not really strangers, you call me Midoriya now." You raise an eyebrow at the evasiveness, and he relents with the simple motion. "Okay, I'll admit that I didn't just come here for the tea." You fake gasp, dramatically smacking a hand to your chest in faux disbelief. He rolls his eyes. “I came to apologize.”

Your nose wrinkles at that and you can’t help the disbelieving chuckle that escapes your lips. “For what?”

“For that video,” he answers simply, obviously. “I’m sure you’ve seen it by now.”

“I mean, yeah, but I was there so I didn’t really have to watch it,” you giggled a bit. He didn’t seem to find it as funny as you did though.

“I’m sure it’s made things more difficult around here, too, though. Right?” You watch the crinkle of his brow, realizing how much he was internalizing any slight inconvenience he may have caused you.

“Business has actually been great since the last time you were here,” you beamed, trying your best to ease his misplaced guilt. “And the tips are better, too.” He seemed to perk up at that.

“Really?” God, this grown man was practically a puppy dog wagging his tail in front of you. It takes everything in you not to giggle at the thought.

“Really.” You shrug. “There's nothing to apologize for so don't worry about it.” He looks a little shocked at your response, the tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks brightening with pink. He smiles at you gently.

“Well, good. I’m glad," he says sweetly, flashing his signature adorable smile. "I--well, I also wanted to make sure that you weren't having any issues. I know how some, umm, super fans can get outta hand with people they see me in a video with. Speculation can get out of hand."

“Oh," you respond, slightly taken aback. "No, I haven't had issues. Do people actually harass random video extras though?" Izuku snorts a bit at your choice of words, causing your brow to twitch and your head to tilt in confusion. Clearing his throat, he presses his lips into a disappointed line, nodding in confirmation.

"Unfortunately, yes," comes his mirthless reply. "Don't get me wrong, I love all my fans...but some of them make it a bit difficult to love them all equally."

You can't help the giggle that bubbles past your lips, the tingling sound building into your lovely laugh. "Y'know, it's okay for you not to like everyone, Midoriya."

"Oh, the nice guy in me disagrees," he sasses back, smirking to himself as he makes you laugh again.

"It's also okay to not apologize for every minor inconvenience you may or may not cause someone," you accuse pointedly. He at least has the decency to look slightly embarrassed for the point you're trying to make. "And I hope you didn't make the trip here just to check on me. I'm sure that there are more important things that deserve your attention, and I'm sure this is time you could have used for yourself."

"Well, as long as we're pointing fingers, you're allowed to take time for yourself as well," he retorts smugly. You suck a harsh breath before you bite your bottom lip sheepishly.

"How'd you know?"

"It looks like you've been overworking yourself," he answers matter-of-factly. "I'm assuming this," he starts, thumbing the book's pages that rest in front of you, "and this," he gestures to the cafe, looking around at the bustling space full of patrons who are beginning to take notice of his pro hero presence, "are responsible for your lack of self-care."

"I think you're forgetting that anything can be a form of self-care," you point out. "This can be self-care," you say holding up your cup of hot chocolate.

"A lukewarm beverage is self-care?" He raises a pensive brow.

"You're one to talk, Mr. Pro Hero Deku," you snort. "You're spending your free time here. I wouldn't exactly call that self-care."

"Well...what if I told you that this is what I wanted to do for my free time?" he shyly answers, suddenly sheepish. "If I'm honest, I kinda wanted a do-over at meeting you."

"You...did?" He nods, and you stare for a moment with wide, ruminant eyes. "How come?"

"Well, that first meeting was such a disaster," he chuckled. "It's not exactly the kind of impression I wanted to leave on such a beautiful person." He bashfully flirts, his cheeks dusting pink over the constellation of freckles over his face, and it's a whole new type of flustering when a big, beefy hero like Deku looks at you so adorably through his thick lashes with a ducting of blush gracing his freckled cheeks.

You feel your own cheeks flush at the sight, squirming in your seat and bringing your hands up to cover your burning cheeks, mumbling, "Oh...Oh! God, I'm too sleep-deprived for this kinda conversation." Your blush only worsens when he chuckles and coos at you.

"Well, m-maybe after you get a good night's sleep, we could have that conversation then," he offers. "Perhaps with...dinner while we talk about it..."

"Are you...asking me out?"

"I was trying to," he chuckles softly at himself.

"I think that I'd really like that," you answer, your face heating as a shy smile graces your lips. The greenette's face lights up in an elated grin, jade eyes sparkling with glee.

"Yeah?" You nod sheepishly. "Can I walk you home?" He asks sweetly. You nod, shyly avoiding his eyes as he snickers. You silently pack your belongings, your eye flitting toward an elated and shocked Sukki who watches from behind the counter, the coffee pot in her hand drifting away from the cup in her other hand to spill on the floor. For some reason, the sight puts you a bit at ease as you allow Midoriya to lead you out the door, his hand affectionately resting on the small of your back as if the rest of the cafe wasn't watching the scene.

Taking a deep breath, you pinch the bridge of your nose and steel yourself before fixing the offending table with a hard look. Your day was going so well, especially after your walk with Deku Midoriya the night before. You walked into work moments ago with a good night's sleep, wonderful memories of your day before, and brighter outlook on life. However, that sunny demeanor was promptly killed the minute you walked into the shop to see a sobbing teenage girl in your office being comforted by Sukki who then explained the situation in hushed tones. The righteous fury in you burned as you looked at the handsy customer leisurely sipping his beverage as if he hadn't assaulted a young lady. Turning to the teary-eyed employee you offer a sympathetic look and gently smile at her. "Amai, how about you stay in my office and take a break? I'll handle this." Making your way over, you grab an empty cup and lid from the counter.

"Hello, sir," you say in an overly sugary tone. "Hope you're enjoying the coffee. Here's a to-go cup so you can enjoy it on the go. Have a lovely day. Buh-bye now."

"What? The fuck you talking about, girlie?"

"Well, see, you broke our number one rule by harassing one of our beloved staff members," you continue in a tooth-achingly sweet customer service voice, despite the pure condescension dripping from your honeyed timbre. "Therefore, you are no longer welcome here. So, leave while I'm still being nice. Oh, and don't come back again, 'kay?"

"Look, tits—"

"That is not my name," you snap, niceties long forgotten. You also noticed the small audience that had begun to gather, the surrounding dining area falling into a slight hush with only scandalized whispers being exchanged between the audience. "Though you don't even deserve to know my name. However, if you must address me at all you may do so by calling me 'ma'am' or 'miss', but you will not address me or any woman in that manner."

He tsks and rolls his eyes at you. "You don't even know the whole story. That bitch was asking for it."

"Really?" you ask, voice coated in sarcasm. "The teenage girl was vying for the attention of some fat, old fuck like yourself? Hmm, very interesting. In that case, maybe I was too quick in my earlier words. I was being far too kind in letting you leave gracefully and quietly. So, instead, I will be calling the police. Please, sit, finish your coffee, and wait for the cops to haul your ass off."

"Why you—" His hand raises, poised to strike you while you stand emotionless with a fixed, unmoving stance. Before he gets the chance to slap you, a grenade-gloved hand catches his wrist.

"Touch her and you lose it." It's safe to say that both you and the offending customer are shocked by the tall blonde practically made of muscle standing between you and the now stuttering mess of a man. "What? Why suddenly so quiet after spewing such shit?" You're surprised that Dynamight's sharp glare isn't literally cutting the man down in front of you. "Apologize." The man's eyes shift towards you, the venom in the gaze when looking at you, however, is not quelled by the threats of the pro-hero.

"But...she's—" The grip around the man's hand becomes increasingly tight, interrupting whatever insult on the tip of his tongue with a pained grunt.

"Apologize."

He spews his false apologies with tearful pleads accompanying them before Dynamight drops his grip and sends the sniveling man scrambling on the floor and running out the door. The small crowd claps and cheers for the hero before dispersing back into their own activities. He shrugs off the praise, grumbling about how useless the crowd of people is, watching while an old perv nearly puts his hands on you.

"Thank you," you say as he passes you, seemingly lost in his own complaints over the situation. Stopping with his back to you, Dynamight takes a few deep breaths to calm himself before turning back to you.

"You got a mouth on you," he simply says, his tone almost bored.

"Oh," you say, blushing. "Umm...thank you?"

"It's a compliment," he assures matter-of-factly.

"Oh!" you drawl, recognizing the actual weight of the stone-cold Dynamight giving someone a compliment. "Then, thank you!" You flash him a glowing smile, a sign of your gratitude, but you fail to recognize the damage you've inflicted upon Bakugo's poor heart, causing the normally stoic hero to lose his breath, flush invading the apples of his cheeks.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just doing my job," he grumbled, awkwardly crossing his arms and looking away. You tilt your head at the sudden aggression in his tone. He takes a moment to calm down with some calming breaths before he peeks at you from the corner of his eyes. He huffs before mumbling out, "Y'know...if you wanted to thank me you could join me for dinner." For some reason, you found his roundabout offer oddly adorable for such an explosive man.

"Are-are you asking me out?" you ask, smiling sweetly as you watch the tips of his ears brighten with a red hue.

"Yes or no?"

"Hmmm," you hum pensively, your finger tapping on your chin in thought. You mentally cackle at the way he groans impatiently, embarrassingly. Giggling, you finally decide to put him out of his misery, "Yes, I'd love to." His face proudly morphs into one of triumph.

"Good," he nods. "Be ready by 7. I'll pick you up." With that, he marches out the cafe doors, and you don't miss the "Fuck yeah!" he shouts once he's outside, startling a few unsuspecting bypassers.

You giggle as you watch his figure swagger down the street. Sukki comes up behind you, clearing her throat. "Did Dynamight just ask you out?"

"Mhmm," you hum out, biting your bottom lip giddily.

"After you agreed to go out with Deku?"

"Mhmm—oh," you blanch. "Oh, shit!"

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

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words to use when writing

Appetite:

craving, demand, gluttony, greed, hunger, inclination, insatiable, longing, lust, passion, ravenousness, relish, taste, thirst, urge, voracity, weakness, willingness, yearning, ardor, dedication, desire, devotion, enthusiasm, excitement, fervor, horny, intensity, keenness, wholeheartedness, zeal

Arouse:

agitate, awaken, electrify, enliven, excite, entice, foment, goad, incite, inflame, instigate, kindle, provoke, rally, rouse, spark, stimulate, stir, thrill, waken, warm, whet, attract, charm, coax, fire up, fuel, heat up, lure, produce, stir up, tantalize, tease, tempt, thrum, torment, wind up, work up

Assault:

attack, advancing, aggressive, assailing, charging, incursion, inundated, invasion, offensive, onset, onslaught, overwhelmed, ruinous, tempestuous, strike, violation, ambush, assail, barrage, bombard, bombardment, crackdown, wound

Beautiful: 

admirable, alluring, angelic, appealing, bewitching, charming, dazzling, delicate, delightful, divine, elegant, enticing, exquisite, fascinating, gorgeous, graceful, grand, magnificent, marvelous, pleasing, radiant, ravishing, resplendent, splendid, stunning, sublime, attractive, beguiling, captivating, enchanting, engaging, enthralling, eye-catching, fetching, fine, fine-looking, good-looking, handsome, inviting, lovely, mesmeric, mesmerizing, pretty, rakish, refined, striking, tantalizing, tempting

Brutal:

atrocious, barbarous, bloodthirsty, callous, cruel, feral, ferocious, hard, harsh, heartless, inhuman, merciless, murderous, pitiless, remorseless, rough, rude, ruthless, savage, severe, terrible, unmerciful, vicious, bestial, brute, brutish, cold-blooded, fierce, gory, nasty, rancorous, sadistic, uncompromising, unfeeling, unforgiving, unpitying, violent, wild

Burly:

able-bodied, athletic, beefy, big, brawny, broad-shouldered, bulky, dense, enormous, great, hard, hardy, hearty, heavily built, heavy, hefty, huge, husky, immense, large, massive, muscular, mighty, outsized, oversized, powerful, powerfully built, prodigious, robust, solid, stalwart, stocky, stout, strapping, strong, strongly built, sturdy, thick, thickset, tough, well-built, well-developed

Carnal:

animalistic, bodily, impure, lascivious, lecherous, lewd, libidinous, licentious, lustful, physical, prurient, salacious, sensuous, voluptuous, vulgar, wanton, , coarse, crude, dirty, raunchy, rough, unclean

Dangerous:

alarming, critical, fatal, formidable, impending, malignant, menacing, mortal, nasty, perilous, precarious, pressing, serious, terrible, threatening, treacherous, urgent, vulnerable, wicked, acute, damaging, deadly, death-defying, deathly, destructive, detrimental, explosive, grave, harmful, hazardous, injurious, lethal, life-threatening, noxious, poisonous, risky, severe, terrifying, toxic, unsafe, unstable, venomous

Dark:

atrocious, corrupt, forbidding, foul, infernal, midnight, morbid, ominous, sinful, sinister, somber, threatening, twilight, vile, wicked, abject, alarming, appalling, baleful, bizarre, bleak, bloodcurdling, boding evil, chilling, cold, condemned, creepy, damned, daunting, demented, desolate, dire, dismal, disturbing, doomed, dour, dread, dreary, dusk, eerie, fear, fearsome, frightening, ghastly, ghostly, ghoulish, gloom, gloomy, grave, grim, grisly, gruesome, hair-raising, haunted, hideous, hopeless, horrendous, horrible, horrid, horrific, horrifying, horror, ill-fated, ill-omened, ill-starred, inauspicious, inhospitable, looming, lost, macabre, malice, malignant, menacing, murky, mysterious, night, panic, pessimistic, petrifying, scary, shadows, shadowy, shade, shady, shocking, soul-destroying, sour, spine-chilling, spine-tingling, strange, terrifying, uncanny, unearthly, unlucky, unnatural, unnerving, weird, wretched

Delicious:

enticing, exquisite, luscious, lush, rich, savory, sweet, tasty, tempting, appetizing, delectable, flavorsome, full of flavor, juicy, lip-smacking, mouth-watering, piquant, relish, ripe, salty, spicy, scrummy, scrumptious, succulent, tangy, tart, tasty, yummy, zesty

Ecstasy:

delectation, delirium, elation, euphoria, fervor, frenzy, joy, rapture, transport, bliss, excitement, happiness, heaven, high, paradise, rhapsody, thrill, blissful, delighted, elated, extremely happy, in raptures (of delight), in seventh heaven, jubilant, on cloud nine, overexcited, overjoyed, rapturous, thrilled

Ecstatic:

delirious, enraptured, euphoric, fervent, frenzied, joyous, transported, wild

Erotic:

amatory, amorous, aphrodisiac, carnal, earthy, erogenous, fervid, filthy, hot, impassioned, lascivious, lecherous, lewd, raw, romantic, rousing, salacious, seductive, sensual, sexual, spicy, steamy, stimulating, suggestive, titillating, voluptuous, tantalizing

Gasp:

catch of breath, choke, gulp, heave, inhale, pant, puff, snort, wheeze, huff, rasp, sharp intake of air, short of breath, struggle for breath, swallow, winded 

Heated:

ardent, avid, excited, fervent, fervid, fierce, fiery, frenzied, furious, impassioned, intense, passionate, raging, scalding, scorched, stormy, tempestuous, vehement, violent, ablaze, aflame, all-consuming, blazing, blistering, burning, crazed, explosive, febrile, feverish, fired up, flaming, flushed, frantic, hot, hot-blooded, impatient, incensed, maddening, obsessed, possessed, randy, searing, sizzling, smoldering, sweltering, torrid, turbulent, volatile, worked up, zealous

Hunger:

appetite, ache, craving, gluttony, greed, longing, lust, mania, mouth-watering, ravenous, voracious, want, yearning, thirst

Hungry:

avid, carnivorous, covetous, craving, eager, greedy, hungered, rapacious, ravenous, starved, unsatisfied, voracious, avaricious, desirous, famished, grasping, insatiable, keen, longing, predatory, ravening, starving, thirsty, wanting

Intense:

forceful, severe, passionate, acute, agonizing, ardent, anxious, biting, bitter, burning, close, consuming, cutting, deep, eager, earnest, excessive, exquisite, extreme, fervent, fervid, fierce, forcible, great, harsh, impassioned, keen, marked, piercing, powerful, profound, severe, sharp, strong, vehement, violent, vivid, vigorous

Liquid:

damp, cream, creamy, dripping, ichorous, juicy, moist, luscious, melted, moist, pulpy, sappy, soaking, solvent, sopping, succulent, viscous, wet / aqueous, broth, elixir, extract, flux, juice, liquor, nectar, sap, sauce, secretion, solution, vitae, awash, moisture, boggy, dewy, drenched, drip, drop, droplet, drowning, flood, flooded, flowing, fountain, jewel, leaky, milky, overflowing, saturated, slick, slippery, soaked, sodden, soggy, stream, swamp, tear, teardrop, torrent, waterlogged, watery, weeping

Lithe:

agile, lean, pliant, slight, spare, sinewy, slender, supple, deft, fit, flexible, lanky, leggy, limber, lissom, lissome, nimble, sinuous, skinny, sleek, slender, slim, svelte, trim, thin, willowy, wiry

Moan:

beef, cry, gripe, grouse, grumble, lament, lamentation, plaint, sob, wail, whine, bemoan, bewail, carp, deplore, grieve, gripe, grouse, grumble, keen, lament, sigh, sob, wail, whine, mewl

Moving:

(exciting,) affecting, effective  arousing, awakening, breathless, dynamic, eloquent, emotional, emotive, expressive, fecund, far-out, felt in gut, grabbed by, gripping, heartbreaking, heartrending, impelling, impressive, inspirational, meaningful, mind-bending, mind-blowing, motivating, persuasive, poignant, propelling, provoking, quickening, rallying, rousing, significant, stimulating, simulative, stirring, stunning, touching, awe-inspiring, energizing, exhilarating, fascinating, heart pounding, heart stopping, inspiring, riveting, thrilling

Need:

compulsion, demand, desperate, devoir, extremity, impatient longing, must, urge, urgency / desire, appetite, avid, burn, craving, eagerness, fascination, greed, hunger, insatiable, longing, lust, taste, thirst, voracious, want, yearning, ache, addiction, aspiration, desire, fever, fixation, hankering, hope, impulse, inclination, infatuation, itch, obsession, passion, pining, wish, yen

Pain: 

ache, afflict, affliction, agony, agonize, anguish, bite, burn, chafe, distress, fever, grief, hurt, inflame, laceration, misery, pang, punish, sting, suffering, tenderness, throb, throe, torment, torture, smart

Painful:

aching, agonizing, arduous, awful, biting, burning, caustic, dire, distressing, dreadful, excruciating, extreme, grievous, inflamed, piercing, raw, sensitive, severe, sharp, tender, terrible, throbbing, tormenting, angry, bleeding, bloody, bruised, cutting, hurting, injured, irritated, prickly, skinned, smarting, sore, stinging, unbearable, uncomfortable, upsetting, wounded

Perverted: 

aberrant, abnormal, corrupt, debased, debauched, defiling, depraved, deviant, monstrous, tainted, twisted, vicious, warped, wicked, abhorrent, base, decadent, degenerate, degrading, dirty, disgusting, dissipated, dissolute, distasteful, hedonistic, immodest, immoral, indecent, indulgent, licentious, nasty, profligate, repellent, repugnant, repulsive, revolting, shameful, shameless, sickening, sinful, smutty, sordid, unscrupulous, vile 

Pleasurable:

charming, gratifying, luscious, satisfying, savory, agreeable, delicious, delightful, enjoyable, nice, pleasant, pleasing, soothing, succulent

Pleasure:

bliss, delight, gluttony, gratification, relish, satisfaction, thrill, adventure, amusement, buzz, contentment, delight, desire, ecstasy, enjoyment, excitement, fun, happiness, harmony, heaven, joy, kick, liking, paradise, seventh heaven 

Rapacious:

avaricious, ferocious, furious, greedy, predatory, ravening, ravenous, savage, voracious, aggressive, gluttonous, grasping, insatiable, marauding, plundering

Rapture:

bliss, ecstasy, elation, exaltation, glory, gratification, passion, pleasure, floating, unbridled joy

Rigid:

adamant, austere, definite, determined, exact, firm, hard, rigorous, solid, stern, uncompromising, unrelenting, unyielding, concrete, fixed, harsh, immovable, inflexible, obstinate, resolute, resolved, severe, steadfast, steady, stiff, strong, strict, stubborn, taut, tense, tight, tough, unbending, unchangeable, unwavering

Sudden:

abrupt, accelerated, acute, fast, flashing, fleeting, hasty, headlong, hurried, immediate, impetuous, impulsive, quick, quickening, rapid, rash, rushing, swift, brash, brisk, brusque, instant, instantaneous, out of the blue, reckless, rushed, sharp, spontaneous, urgent, without warning

Thrust:

(forward) advance, drive, forge, impetus, impulsion, lunge, momentum, onslaught, poke, pressure, prod, propulsion, punch, push, shove, power, proceed, progress, propel

(push hard) assail, assault, attack, bear down, buck, drive, force, heave, impale, impel, jab, lunge, plunge, press, pound, prod, ram, shove, stab, transfix, urge, bang, burrow, cram, gouge, jam, pierce, punch, slam, spear, spike, stick

Thunder-struck:

amazed, astonished, aghast, astounded, awestruck, confounded, dazed, dazed, dismayed, overwhelmed, shocked, staggered, startled, stunned, gob-smacked, bewildered, dumbfounded, flabbergasted, horrified, incredulous, surprised, taken aback 

Torment:

agony, anguish, hurt, misery, pain, punishment, suffering, afflict, angst, conflict, distress, grief, heartache, misfortune, nightmare, persecute, plague, sorrow, strife, tease, test, trial, tribulation, torture, turmoil, vex, woe

Touch:

(physical) - blow, brush, caress, collide, come together, contact, converge, crash, cuddle, embrace, feel, feel up, finger, fondle, frisk, glance, glide, graze, grope, handle, hit, hug, impact, join, junction, kiss, lick, line, manipulate, march, massage, meet, nudge, palm, partake, pat, paw, peck, pet, pinch, probe, push, reach, rub, scratch, skim, slide, smooth, strike, stroke, suck, sweep, tag, tap, taste, thumb, tickle, tip, touching, toy, bite, bump, burrow, buss, bury, circle, claw, clean, clutch, cover, creep, crush, cup, curl, delve, dig, drag, draw, ease, edge, fiddle with, flick, flit, fumble, grind, grip, grub, hold, huddle, knead, lap, lave, lay a hand on, maneuver, manhandle, mash, mold, muzzle, neck, nestle, nibble, nip, nuzzle, outline, play, polish, press, pull, rasp, ravish, ream, rim, run, scoop, scrabble, scrape, scrub, shave, shift, shunt, skate, slip, slither, smack, snake, snuggle, soothe, spank, splay, spread, squeeze, stretch, swipe, tangle, tease, thump, tongue, trace, trail, tunnel twiddle, twirl, twist, tug, work, wrap 

(mental) - communicate, examine, inspect, perception, scrutinize

Wet:

bathe, bleed, burst, cascade, course, cover, cream, damp, dampen, deluge, dip, douse, drench, dribble, drip, drizzle, drool, drop, drown, dunk, erupt, flood, flow, gush, immerse, issue, jet, leach, leak, moisten, ooze, overflow, permeate, plunge, pour, rain, rinse, run, salivate, saturate, secrete, seep, shower, shoot, slaver, slobber, slop, slosh, sluice, spill, soak, souse, spew, spit, splash, splatter, spout, spray, sprinkle, spurt, squirt, steep, stream, submerge, surge, swab, swamp, swill, swim, trickle, wash, water

Wicked:

abominable, amoral, atrocious, awful, base, barbarous, dangerous, debased, depraved, distressing, dreadful, evil, fearful, fiendish, fierce, foul, heartless, hazardous, heinous, immoral, indecent, intense, mean, nasty, naughty, nefarious, offensive, profane, scandalous, severe, shameful, shameless, sinful, terrible, unholy, vicious, vile, villainous, wayward, bad, criminal, cruel, deplorable, despicable, devious, ill-intentioned, impious, impish, iniquitous, irreverent, loathsome, Machiavellian, mad, malevolent, malicious, merciless, mischievous, monstrous, perverse, ruthless, spiteful, uncaring, unkind, unscrupulous, vindictive, virulent, wretched

Writhe: 

agonize, bend, jerk, recoil, lurch, plunge, slither, squirm, struggle, suffer, thrash, thresh, twist, wiggle, wriggle, angle, arc, bow, buck, coil, contort, convulse, curl, curve, fidget, fight, flex, go into spasm, grind, heave, jiggle, jolt, kick, rear, reel, ripple, resist, roll, lash, lash out, screw up, shake, shift, slide, spasm, stir, strain, stretch, surge, swell, swivel, thrust, turn violently, tussle, twitch, undulate, warp, worm, wrench, wrestle, yank 

quirkless!Deku working at Dynamight’s agency in IT, he keeps messing with Bakugou’s stuff cause he has a crush on hates him

scammers to lovers <3 part 1 | part 2 | part 3