Shinzawa X Reader - Blog Posts

My Hero Academia Masterlist

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

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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

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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Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed! Please remember to like, reblog, and comment if you liked this!

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."