Widowed Nanami Who Quits Management Job And Opens A Bakery After Your Name When You Die. Usually People

widowed nanami who quits management job and opens a bakery after your name when you die. usually people try to forget their pain, and it is a human emotion to avoid things that bring them discomfort. but nanami kento defies that psychology.

people come every now and then pondering at the art on the walls. you always loved lilies so he drew them himself. he is not very artistic and the lines are a bit crooked, but it is still alluring.

he loves you to the point he dedicated a day in his bakery after you. cheesecake day. because it was the first thing he baked for you at the start of your relationship and you loved it so much. on this day, he prepares all kinds of cheesecake you adored. anything grabs attention of youngsters and social media quickly so they promote his shop and soon there is a big line outside waiting for the famous cheesecake. you'd be so happy if you were there.

he never wanted to forget you to be honest. what is the point in letting go of the one thing that keeps him alive? you are his every thought. every feeling. without you he is just a man with flesh and bones. no heart.

he has your engagement and vacation pictures mounted on the wall. when the customers ask how are you doing? he just smiles and goes "she's resting. i'll be next to her soon. i'll be home."

You're my Coffee Shouta Aizawa x Pro hero/Teacher! Reader

Summary:

After a distressing call from a Japanese hospital, you learn your friend Nemuri Kayama (Midnight) has briefly awoken from her coma and is desperately screaming for you.

She makes a final request: take care of her students if she doesn't survive.

So you pack your bags and move to Japan, only to find the students at U.A. High School traumatized by the Hero War. Aizawa is struggling to help them, and Nezu is overwhelmed trying to find therapists while managing international scrutiny over the students' involvement in the war. Aizawa panics when Nezu informs him of your arrival, as your hero profile is so blank he can't find decent information about you, despite your international headlines.

Your start is rocky, worsened by your initial deception of pretending to be his new student. The students are unsure what to make of you, but they’re drawn to their new art teacher and soon so is their grump of a teacher.

With the media down his neck, Nezu offers you a deal: Get the kids to seek therapy, you to graduate with your psychology doctorate. Aizawa’s catch: If you fail or harm them, you walk away from being a therapist and hero altogether.

All while facing your own trauma, and the affections of those strange cats...

Tw: PTSD and mentions of violence and mental distress.

Song: SZA - Good Days

----------------------Chapter 1: Who are you?------------------------

The day had been a rare opportunity for the new Class 2-A to unwind and explore the vibrant shopping district surrounding U.A. Academy. With a Saturday all to themselves, students scattered across the mall, relishing the chance to indulge in personal interests and bond outside the confines of their classrooms.

In the heart of the bustling mall, the comic store beckoned with its colorful displays and eager customers. The windows were adorned with colorful posters of heroes in dynamic poses, and the entrance was flanked by life-sized statues of popular heroes. The air inside was thick with the scent of new books and the faint buzz of fluorescent lights overhead.

Izuku Midoriya, his face lit up with joy, led a group consisting of Ochaco Uraraka, Tsuyu Asui, Tenya Iida, Shoto Todoroki, and himself towards the store's entrance. They were drawn by the promise of hero memorabilia and the back to school discounted prices plastered all over the building.

Hey, kids gotta ball on a budget!

As they entered, the store buzzed with energy. Fans of all ages flipped through graphic novels, their fingers brushing the glossy pages, while others scrutinized shelves stocked with hero-themed merchandise—action figures, posters, and keychains, all meticulously arranged to catch the eye. The walls were lined with shelves, each packed to the brim with comics, some new, others worn and well-loved. A few children darted between the aisles, their laughter mingling with the murmur of conversations.

Izuku gravitated towards the section dedicated toToshinori, his eyes wide and scanning for any rare collectibles he might have missed. The rows of action figures stood proudly, their detailed designs catching the overhead light. Posters of All Might in his prime covered the walls, Izuku's gaze lingered on each one, and his eyes softened.

"Hey, Izuku, check this out!" Ochaco's voice rang out, pulling him from his reverie. She held up a keychain featuring a miniature All Might in his signature hero pose, the small figure almost glowing in her hand. "Isn't this adorable?" She smiled brightly, the corners of her eyes crinkling with joy.

Izuku's face brightened, his eyes widening as he stepped closer to examine the keychain. "That's awesome, Ochaco! I wonder if they have any figurines or posters I haven't seen before." He began to peruse the shelves again, his fingers trailing lightly over the edges of the boxes as he searched for something new. His gaze darted from one item to another, his excitement slowly giving way to disappointment as he realized there were no new All Might items to add to his collection.

Izuku sighed softly, the sound almost lost in the ambient noise of the store. His rewards points burned a hole in his pocket, the card resting in his hand as he glanced around the store, hoping for a hidden gem.

The sweet old lady store clerk noticed his dilemma and smiled warmly at him. "Can't find what you're looking for, young man?" She had allowed the Izu-crew to browse before offering her assistance.

Izuku shook his head, feeling a bit crestfallen. "Not this time, Mrs. Sakamaki. All Might stuff tends to sell out quickly." He shuffled slightly, one hand slipping into his pocket as he spoke, the other still clutching the rewards card.

Mrs. Sakamaki, was a sweet old lady store clerk with a kind smile and gentle demeanor. Her silver hair was neatly pinned back, and she wore a cozy cardigan that seemed to match the warmth in her eyes.

Mrs. Sakamaki's eyes twinkled with a mischievous glint, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Well, how about considering something new? Have you heard about Charge Bomb? She's quite the rising star, you know." She leaned in slightly, as if sharing a secret, her voice full of enthusiasm.

Izuku's head tilted slightly, curiosity evident in his tone, and interest piqued, " Charge Bomb? "

Mrs. Sakamaki nodded enthusiastically, her smile widening as she reached behind the counter. With a practiced hand, she retrieved a medium-sized figurine of Charge Bomb, complete with her signature explosive star emblem and perching pose.

The figure was expertly crafted, capturing the details of the hero’s ebony mask and cloak. "She's gaining quite a fanbase lately. People say she's as electrifying as her powers!"

Izuku hesitated for a moment, his eyes tracing the details of the figurine in his hand. The weight of it was reassuring, and he could feel the craftsmanship in every groove. "I've heard a bit about her. She seems really strong." He turned the figure over, examining it closely, the gears in his mind turning as he considered adding it to his collection.

Ochaco teased him lightly, nudging Izuku with a playful grin. "Come on, Izuku. Even if All Might isn't here, you can expand your horizons a bit!"

Tsuyu ribbited in agreement, her lips quirking up in a small smile. "Ribbit. Midoriya, you might discover a new hero to admire." Her eyes twinkled with amusement as she watched Izuku's inner debate unfold.

Izuku chuckled sheepishly, feeling the support of his friends. "Alright, alright. Charge Bomb it is. Thank you, ma'am." He offered Mrs. Sakamaki a grateful smile as he handed over his rewards card, the anticipation building within him as he added the figurine to his growing collection.

"This Charge Bomb figure is incredible," Izuku exclaimed, his eyes wide as he examined the action figure in his hands. He was doing that mumbling thing and they were happy to see him geek over something other than All Might. It was good to see him like this.

He needed this.

"Yeah, but she seems so distant, like she's always avoiding questions in her interviews," Ochaco remarked, her gaze shifting to a nearby display of hero-themed posters. She reached out to adjust one that had slipped slightly out of place, her fingers brushing the paper lightly.

"She's probably just focused on hero work," Shoto chimed in quietly, his eyes scanning the shelves with detached interest. He reached out to pick up a comic, flipping through the pages absentmindedly. "I've seen her in action in some civilian videos. She doesn't waste time or energy." He placed the comic back, his expression thoughtful.

Tsuyu, standing beside Shoto, nodded in agreement. "Ribbit. Maybe she prefers a direct approach, focusing on getting the job done without unnecessary risks." She leaned over to pick up a comic featuring a leapfrog character, holding it up with a teasing smile before lightly punching Shoto in the arm for showing it to her.

Iida, who had been diligently scanning through hero strategy books, joined the conversation with his trademark earnestness. "Indeed. Charge Bomb's reputation stems from her precise tactics and adherence to hero regulations. She's a model of efficiency." His posture was as rigid as ever, but there was a spark of admiration in his eyes.

Ochaco nodded knowingly, a small smile playing on her lips. "That's part of her appeal. Charge Bomb is known for her no-nonsense attitude and her skill in taking down villains efficiently. But when it comes to interviews, she's a bit elusive. Always dodging personal questions with a touch of humor. I would love to get away with that! Those interview questions always make me so nervous." She glanced over at Izuku, her expression softening as she saw the thoughtful look on his face.

Izuku's brows furrowed slightly, a mixture of disappointment and fascination crossing his features. "It's amazing how she manages to stay mysterious even with all the attention she's getting." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, still holding the Charge Bomb figurine as he contemplated the enigma that was this new hero.

Tsuyu, always the voice of reason, chimed in to lighten the mood. "Maybe she just wants to keep her private life private. It adds to her mystique, kero. Don't you think?" She tilted her head slightly, her wide eyes filled with understanding.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Izuku agreed with a small smile, his shoulders relaxing as he let go of his earlier disappointment. ‘ She's definitely someone I want to learn more about.’ He glanced around at his friends, grateful for their perspectives.

Their conversation was interrupted by Iida, who had found a stack of hero biographies nearby. He straightened up, holding one out to Izuku with a determined look. "Have any of you seen this? It's a comprehensive guide on hero rankings and strategies. We should study this for our next training session." His enthusiasm was contagious, and soon the group was huddled around the book, discussing its contents with renewed excitement.

Meanwhile, nearby, Eijiro Kirishima trailed after Katsuki Bakugo through the bustling mall, his grin wide and infectious. The air was thick with the mingled scents of food and perfume, and the cacophony of shoppers' chatter created a lively atmosphere. Kirishima's energy was palpable as he practically bounced on his heels, his excitement barely contained.

"C'mon, bro, let's hurry up! I wanna check out those romance novels you were talking about," Kirishima urged, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. His red hair caught the overhead lights, giving it an almost fiery glow, and his broad smile seemed to brighten the entire aisle.

Bakugo grunted in response, his usual scowl softened slightly by Kirishima's persistent cheer. He had a reputation to maintain, but Kirishima's unwavering smile always managed to crack through his tough exterior.

The corners of his mouth twitched as if resisting a smile, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of amusement. They navigated through the maze of aisles, their footsteps echoing against the polished tiles. The aisles were lined with displays of books and manga, with colorful covers vying for attention. Bakugo’s eyes darted toward a stand of novels, his expression turning contemplative as he contemplated a particular title.

Nearby, Mina and Aoyama were in their element, quoting vines and hunting for discounted products, their vibrant personalities on full display. Mina's laughter rang out as she twisted open a bottle of lotion, the fruity scent wafting into the air.

Her pink skin seemed to shimmer under the store's lights, matching the lively energy she exuded. Aoyama, ever the picture of elegance, carefully examined a row of lip glosses, each one sparkling under the lights like miniature jewels. He held one up to the light, admiring its glittering hue with a flourish of his hand.

Being a crusty bitch is a crime in their book.

"This one captures my essence perfectly," Aoyama declared with a dramatic flair, his voice lilting with confidence as he made his selection. Mina chuckled, shaking her head in amusement as they made their way toward the counter.

Denki and Sero, not far behind, were engrossed in a lively debate over their favorite music band. Their voices rose above the ambient noise of the mall, attracting a few curious glances. Denki gesticulated animatedly, his eyes bright with passion as he defended his choice. "I'm telling you, their new album is fire! The beats are insane!"

Sero countered with equal enthusiasm, a mischievous grin on his face. "Si, pero like , the lyrics in their older stuff hit harder. You can't just overlook that!" His arms crossed over his chest, a challenge in his posture as he awaited Denki's rebuttal. Their exchange was playful, filled with an easy camaraderie.

Not far off, Jirou sat quietly with Momo. Jirou’s earbuds were plugged in, the faint sound of music just audible as she perused a rack of graphic tees. Her expression was thoughtful, her fingers brushing over the fabric as she considered her options.

Occasionally, she glanced over at Momo, who was absorbed in selecting art supplies from a nearby shelf. Momo's concentration was evident in the way her brows furrowed slightly, her lips pursed in determination as she compared different shades of sketch pencils.

Near the food court, Sato and Koda were in their element, sampling soft pretzels from a nearby vendor. The aroma of freshly baked dough filled the air, mingling with the scent of warm butter and salt. Their faces lit up with delight as they bit into the savory snacks, the crunch of the pretzel giving way to soft, chewy perfection.

"I’m gonna make this back at the dorm!" Sato declared, his eyes wide with pleasure as he took another bite. Koda nodded in agreement, his usually shy demeanor momentarily forgotten as he enjoyed the treat.

In the midst of the mall's eclectic offerings, Toru and Ojiro found themselves browsing through racks of matching T-shirts and pajamas. Toru's laughter was infectious, her voice light and bubbly as she held up a pair of pajama pants covered in cartoonish animal prints.

"These are so cute! Ojiro, you should totally get a pair to match!" she teased, her invisible form barely discernible except for the clothing she held.

Ojiro chuckled, his tail swaying behind him as he examined the T-shirt in his hands. "Sure thing, these tees would look pretty cool on you," he said, holding up a shirt with a simple yet striking heart design. His expression was relaxed, content in the easy banter they shared.

Further down the mall, the Hot Topic store exuded a darker, edgier vibe. The walls were adorned with posters of alternative bands, horror movie memorabilia, and gothic accessories that attracted a certain crowd.

Fumikage Tokoyami and Mezo Shoji were drawn to the store's unique collection, their interest piqued by the array of darkly themed merchandise. Tokoyami's eyes gleamed with approval as he browsed through the selection of black hoodies and band T-shirts, Dark Shadow flickering in and out of view as it reacted to the ambient darkness.

Shoji, towering beside him, was more methodical in his approach, carefully examining each item before making a decision. His multiple arms moved with practiced efficiency, picking up and setting down items as he weighed his options. There was a quiet intensity to his movements, his nature calm but intensive.

Hitoshi Shinso, the newest addition to Class 2-A, stood nearby, quietly observing the array of mystery novels lining the shelves. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes held a spark of curiosity as he reached out to pull a book from the shelf. The cover was dark and foreboding, promising a tale of intrigue and suspense. Shinso flipped through the pages, his mind already piecing together the story within.

As the afternoon unfolded, the tranquil atmosphere of their shopping expedition was abruptly shattered by a sudden commotion echoing from the mall's main atrium. The cheerful chatter and the hum of activity were quickly drowned out by a chorus of panicked voices.

Shoppers and storekeepers alike scrambled to escape the center of the chaos, their hurried footsteps reverberating through the marble floors.

"What's going on?" Shoto asked, his voice low as his eyes narrowed, instinctively sensing something was amiss. The cool air around him seemed to grow colder as he prepared for the worst.

Izuku's gaze darted towards the source of the disturbance, his expression sharpening with determination. "Something's happening. We need to check it out!"

With a unified nod, they abandoned their purchases and hurried towards the scene, their training as future heroes kicking in instinctively. They weaved through the bustling crowd, the throngs of people parting in their wake as they sprinted toward the mall's open space. The vibrant colors of store signs and displays blurred around them as they closed in on the source of the disturbance.

When they emerged into the atrium, the sight that greeted them was one of utter chaos. A villain stood at the center, their body crackling with electricity, causing nearby electrical appliances and lights to flicker and malfunction dangerously.

Sparks flew as lights exploded overhead, sending shards of glass raining down. The air buzzed with the raw, uncontrolled energy that pulsed from the villain.

Ochaco's eyes widened in alarm. "We need to stop him before he causes a blackout!"

Before any of them could spring into action, a brilliant flash of light erupted from the villain's direction. The intensity of the glow momentarily blinded them, but when their vision cleared, they saw a figure stepping forward from the crowd—a woman dressed in unassuming civilian attire.

Despite her inconspicuous appearance, her presence commanded attention. There was a quiet power in the way she carried herself, her gaze steely and focused as she assessed the situation.

"Everyone, stand back!" she called out, her voice firm and authoritative.

Izuku and his classmates exchanged surprised glances but held their ground. watching in awe as the woman unleashed a burst of energy from her hands. Their initial confusion gave way to awe as the woman raised her hands, now crackling with energy that mirrored the villain's.

She moved with a fluid grace, her actions deliberate and controlled. In one swift motion, she unleashed a concentrated burst of energy that shot through the air with blinding speed.

The energy blast struck the villain with pinpoint accuracy, the force of it sending them stumbling backward. The villain's powers sputtered out, the crackling electricity around them fizzling as they crumpled to the ground, unconscious and harmless. The once rampant chaos that had filled the atrium dissipated almost immediately, leaving behind a stunned silence.

The woman lowered her hands, the energy dissipating as quickly as it had appeared. She remained poised, her eyes sweeping over the now-subdued scene before landing on the group of young heroes-in-training. Izuku’s breath caught in his throat, the sheer power she had displayed lingering in the air.

"Thank you for the backup, but I've got it from here," she said, a hint of a smile playing on her lips as she acknowledged their readiness to jump into action. She quickly restrained the villain before pulling out her phone and called for backup, her voice calm and authoritative.

"This one's neutralized. Send a team to secure the area."

Within moments, the sounds of sirens filled the air as police and other pro heroes arrived to handle the situation. Relieved, the woman now turned to the students, her eyes locking onto Izuku's for a moment longer than the others. Her gaze was intense, as if she recognized something in him.

"You're all heroes in training, right?" she asked, her tone firm but not unkind. It was weird how her presence was both commanding and serene. The way she carried herself exuded a quiet confidence that spoke volumes about her experience.

They nodded, still processing the sudden turn of events and the display of power they had just witnessed.

"Good," she continued. "Stay out of the way and let me handle this. Head back the way you came."

Reluctantly, they complied, feeling a mix of relief and frustration. Some of them were eager to jump in themselves, but the recent war had left a few of them wary of rushing into unknown danger.

Her eyes lingered on Izuku for a moment longer than the others, a fleeting exchange that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up in a way yet to be understood.

There was something about that look that he couldn't quite shake, a feeling that would stay with him long after they left the mall.

---

As they regrouped outside, Kirishima was the first to voice what everyone was thinking. "That was so cool to see in person! The way that off-duty pro handled it without anything getting damaged was so manly!"

"Yeah, but it's kind of a bummer our trip got cut short," Mina added, pouting a little as she remembered the bags they had left behind.

Some of the students remained quiet, their minds replaying the events that had just unfolded. The atmosphere was a mix of lingering adrenaline and reflective silence. Izuku and Bakugou, in particular, seemed more shaken than the others. The encounter had stirred memories of past battles, memories that were still too fresh to ignore.

Ochaco noticed Izuku's distant expression and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "Izuku, are you okay?"

Izuku blinked, snapping back to reality and forced a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking about how strong that lady is. It was incredible." His mind was still replaying the moment when her eyes had locked onto his, trying to decipher what it meant.

The group made their way back to U.A., the towering building a comforting sight after the unexpected events of the day. As they entered the common room, they were greeted by the sight of other classes returning to their dorms, their faces reflecting the mixed emotions of a day interrupted by the unexpected.

In the common room, Aizawa was waiting for them, his usual stern expression softened slightly by their safe return. The class brightened upon seeing their teacher, and they quickly crowded around him with excitement, eager to share their experiences.

"Dadzawa, look what I got!" Kaminari exclaimed, holding up a new band poster with a wide grin..

"Check out my new lip gloss!" Mina chimed in, showing off the shiny tube she had managed to purchase before the chaos erupted.

"I got some new hair dye!" Kirishima announced proudly, holding up the box with a toothy grin.

"One at a time," Aizawa said, raising his hands to quiet the enthusiastic students. "I'm glad to see you're all safe. Now, tell me about your ‘mall adventures’ ."

As the students eagerly recounted their shopping trip, showing off their new trinkets and purchases, Aizawa listened patiently, occasionally nodding and responding to their stories. The atmosphere was lively, the students' spirits lifted despite the earlier interruption.

Finally, Aizawa raised his hands again, silencing the room. "Alright, listen up. A new teacher will be joining U.A. while completing her Doctorate. Treat her with respect and learn from her."

Mina and Kaminari immediately perked up at the news. "More details, please!" they chorused, their curiosity piqued.

Aizawa's stern look silenced their pleas. "She will be your new art and history teacher. That's all you need to know for now."

“Ugh, lame!”

Some of the students, especially Mina and Kaminari, let out groans of disappointment. "But, Mr. Aizawa, can't you tell us a little more?" Denki pleaded, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"I understand you all have questions about the new teacher joining us," he began, “But she has asked to remain anonymous at this time. She is to arrive there in three weeks time and I expect you all to give her the same respect you give me.”

After looking around the room he sighed through his nose, “Hell, make it more respectful. Remember that you represent U.A.”

“But—” Kaminari started to protest, but the stern look Aizawa gave him made him quickly back down.

"That's all for now," Aizawa said, his tone final. "I expect you all to welcome her respectfully. Now, it's time to get ready for tomorrow."

With that, he dismissed them, and the students broke off for the evening, the lively atmosphere gradually returning as they scattered to their respective rooms. Izuku, however, was still deep in thought. As he entered his room, he carefully set up his new Charge Bomb figure on his desk, placing it alongside his other hero memorabilia.

Sitting down, he opened his hero notebook and flipped to a fresh page. His mind raced as he began sketching the mysterious woman, trying to capture the essence of her stance and the way her eyes had locked onto his. Each line he drew was careful and deliberate, his concentration intense as he tried to understand what had transpired.

As he sketched, he jotted down a few notes:

Name: Mall stopper

Quirk: Unknown, but likely related to energy manipulation.

Appearance: Mysterious, not in costume during the encounter.

Personality: Commanding presence, but not rude.

Additional Notes: Encountered at the mall while stopping a villain. Avoids citizens getting harmed.

Seemed to recognize me?

Izuku stared at the page for a long moment, his pencil hovering over the paper as he pondered the day's events.

He still had many questions, but he knew obsessing over it would disrupt his sleep schedule again.

But he knew he couldn’t sleep.

Grabbing his phone, Izuku dialed his mother's number. The dorm room was quiet, the soft hum of the air conditioner and the occasional distant laughter of his classmates the only sounds breaking the silence. His fingers tapped nervously on the phone case as he waited. It didn't take long for her cheerful voice to come through the receiver.

"Hi baby! How was your day?"

"It was good, Mom. We went to the mall and... something interesting happened," Izuku began, recounting the day's events and the encounter. As he spoke, he could hear the concern in his mother's voice.

"Just be careful, Izuku. I'm glad you're safe," she said, her tone gentle and loving.

“I promise, Mom. I’m tired of everyone thinking I’m in love with that hospital bed.” He chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood.

Inko giggled into the receiver before her tone took a softer approach. “You know, sweetie, you can still come home when you can’t sleep. I’ll handle your teacher.”

Now the idea of his adorable mom dealing with the physical embodiment of a grumpy cat that was his teacher was tempting but he really didn’t want to put her through that.

"I know, Mom. But I’m fine, really!” Izuku replied, a small smile playing on his lips. The thought of his mother's comforting presence was tempting, but he was determined to manage on his own.

“Okay, if you say so. Make sure to get good rest tonight.”

“Goodnight, Mom," Izuku replied, feeling a sense of comfort wash over him.

"Goodnight, sweetie," she said before blowing a kiss into the phone and hanging up.

As he lay back in bed, his mind raced with thoughts of the new teacher and the mysterious pro hero. The encounter at the mall had been brief, but it left a lasting impression, fueling his curiosity and excitement.

“Who are you?” he muttered to himself, staring at the ceiling.

The moonlight cast shadows across his room, giving it an almost ethereal quality. The day's events replayed in his mind, the adrenaline and wonder still lingering.

The gentle hum of the air conditioner became a lullaby, blending with the distant murmurs of his classmates as Izuku's thoughts gradually began to quiet. He could still feel the intensity of that woman's gaze, the warmth of her presence as vivid in his memory as if she were still standing before him. The encounter had left him with more questions than answers, but those questions could wait for tomorrow.

As he lay there, his thoughts slowly settled, and the comforting warmth of his conversation with his mother began to soothe the last remnants of his restlessness. The image of her familiar smile and the sound of her voice reminded him of the safety of home, a place where he was always welcome.

He shifted under the covers, finding a comfortable position as the day's events continued to fade into the recesses of his mind. His eyelids grew heavier, the exhaustion finally catching up to him. Izuku's last conscious thought was a whispered promise to himself to uncover the mystery behind the pro hero who had left such a strong impression on him.

In the stillness of the night, the world outside his window continued to turn, but within the quiet of his dorm room, Izuku finally surrendered to sleep. Dreams of heroes, battles, and new beginnings filled his mind,

---

As the dorms settled into a quieter atmosphere, Bakugou lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling. The buzz of late-night conversations and the distant sound of someone playing music softly on their phone faded into the background. His room was dimly lit, the moonlight filtering through the blinds, casting a faint glow across his tidy desk and the posters on the wall.

Bakugou could hear the rhythmic breathing of his classmates through the thin walls, and while that used to annoy him and still kinda did, it was a comforting reminder that he wasn't alone, even in the stillness of the night.

His phone buzzed, breaking the silence. Glancing at the screen, he saw his mother's photo flash across it. With a resigned sigh, he answered, propping himself up on one elbow.

“Oi, Katsuki! I saw you on the news at the mall today,” Mitsuki's voice boomed through the phone, as loud and commanding as ever. Apparently some people had taken videos of the villain attack and he was spotted in the background.

“You need to take it easy. Remember your heart? And your arm?”

Bakugou grumbled, running a hand through his unruly hair. "I'm fine, Mom. Just a little leave-"

“Fine, my ass! Have you picked a therapist yet?” she demanded, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"I don't need one," Bakugou retorted, irritation evident in his tone. His free hand clenched into a fist, the tension palpable.

"Don't you give me that, Katsuki! You're my son, and I won't let you walk around with your trauma eating you alive," she snapped back, her fierce tone unmistakable. Some shuffling was heard in the background before a muffled “Fine!” Bakugou rolled his eyes, feeling the familiar mix of annoyance.

A gentler voice came on the line. "Katsuki, it's Dad. You know All Might and Aizawa found some really good professionals for you. You don't have to worry about your... verbal constipation with them. We understand you don't want to talk to us about it, but we love you and want you to be okay."

"The little squirt knows that already!" Mitsuki cut in, snatching the phone back. "You already know that we love you. If we didn't, we'd just let you do whatever, and you'd be a bigger asshole than you already act like."

Bakugou grumbled something incomprehensible, but his mother cut him off again. "This isn't up for negotiation. You don't have to talk to us about it, but you are going to heal, and that's final."

There was a pause, and Bakugou finally sighed, the sound heavy with resignation. "I get it, Mom. I’ll... I’ll think about it."

The line went quiet for a moment, the tension easing. "Good. We love you, Katsuki. Goodnight," Mitsuki said softly, her voice carrying a rare note of tenderness.

"Love you too, Mom. Dad," Bakugou responded, his voice uncharacteristically tender, the words surprising even him.

‘What the fuck is wrong with me?’

Katsuki watched as the line hung up and he clicked his phone off and stared back up at the ceiling, a sense of warmth washed over him. His parents' concern, though sometimes overbearing, came from a place of deep love. Even if he didn’t want to admit it.

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and allowed himself to relax. The worries and frustrations of the day seemed to melt away, leaving him with a rare sense of peace.

For the first time in a while, he felt a bit lighter. Bakugou’s mind was quieter than usual, the echoes of his parents’ voices lingering in the back of his thoughts, offering a strange comfort he wasn’t used to acknowledging.

He wasn’t one to lean on anyone, not even his parents, but something about the way they’d insisted, the way his dad had gently nudged him while his mom pushed with her usual force, made him reconsider. It was a rare moment where their concern didn’t feel suffocating, but grounding. It made him think about the things he’d been pushing down, the way he’d been ignoring the nagging feelings that crept up on him in the quiet moments, like now.

The moonlight continued to cast soft shadows across his room, and the distant sounds of his classmates—now more like a comforting white noise—faded further into the background as he focused on his breathing, steady and even. Bakugou wasn’t sure when he’d started to rely on these moments of solitude to sort through his thoughts, but tonight, they didn’t seem as overwhelming as they usually did.

He’d never admit it to anyone, but the idea of talking to someone—a therapist, of all people—wasn’t as off-putting as it had been before. Maybe he was just tired, or maybe the events of the day had worn him down more than he realized.

Or maybe, just maybe , the thought of unloading some of the weight he carried didn’t seem so bad. But that was a decision for tomorrow. For now, he let the warmth of his parents' love settle in, something he wasn’t used to acknowledging but found comforting nonetheless.

Bakugou let his eyes close, his breathing slowing as sleep began to take over. For the first time in a long while, the tightness in his chest eased, replaced by a sense of calm that was almost foreign to him. He wasn’t sure what tomorrow would bring, but tonight, he was content with the knowledge that he didn’t have to face it all alone.

And with that thought, he finally drifted into a deep, undisturbed sleep, his usual scowl replaced by the faintest hint of a relaxed expression.

---

Across the dorms, a restless atmosphere pervaded the night. The air was thick with the weight of unspoken fears and lingering trauma, wrapping around each student like a suffocating blanket.

In one room, Sero and Denki were engaged in an intense game of Mario Kart, the room illuminated by the flickering screen. Their eyes were dry and heavy with fatigue, yet their determination kept them focused on the game. Sero's fingers flew over the controller, his competitive spirit shining through despite the exhaustion.

Denki leaned forward, his brow furrowed in concentration, occasionally letting out a frustrated groan when he lost a race. The game was a distraction, a desperate attempt to stay awake, to avoid the nightmares waiting on the other side of sleep. They wanted to stay awake, afraid to drift off with the lights off and let the flashbacks creep in.

Down the hall, Jirou sat cross-legged on her bed, her guitar resting gently on her lap. Her fingers trembled as they strummed the strings, testing out the reconstruction of her ear. Tears streamed down her face, glistening in the soft glow of her bedside lamp.

She winced from the phantom pains, her breath hitching with each painful cramp that surfaced. The melody she played was soft and mournful, echoing the lingering trauma within her. Each note seemed to resonate with her heartache. She closed her eyes, trying to lose herself in the music, hoping it would offer some solace.

The music was a refuge, a way to express what words couldn’t—her pain, her fear, the lingering terror that her body was still recovering from. She focused on the vibrations of the strings, trying to drown out the phantom pains and the memories of the screams and explosions.

Wounds that no melody alone could fully heal.

Kirishima tossed and turned in his bed, the sheets tangled around his legs. His brow was furrowed in distress, and beads of sweat dotted his forehead. He fought against the blankets as if they were the villains he’d faced, his body rigid with tension. Kiri was trapped in a nightmare, locked in a never-ending battle with a mysterious figure.

His hardened skin, usually a source of strength, offered no protection from the terror gnawing at his mind. He clenched his fists physically, his muscles tensing as he fought off the invisible enemy, but the fear remained, a relentless killer.

In another room, Tokoyami paced back and forth, his mind a storm of anxiety. The pacing was erratic, each step driven by a nervous energy that had no outlet. Dark Shadow hovered nearby, mirroring his agitation with restless flutters.

Sato, sitting cross-legged on the floor, had tried to bake away his stress, but the pile of untouched pastries on the table told a different story. The sweet aroma of cookies and cakes filled the room, a stark contrast to the bitterness of their shared unease. Sato just stared at the pound cake he had made, his eyes unfocused.

He couldn't bring himself to eat it, the sight of the cake stirring up memories of happier times that now felt distant.

How it mocked him now.

Shinsou was in Koda's room, perched on the edge of the bed. The room was dimly lit, casting soft shadows that danced gently with the movements of the little creature. Koda's gentle strokes seemed to calm not only the bunny but also the tension that had been building in Shinsou's chest all night.

Koda's touch was careful and soothing, a therapeutic distraction from the darkness that loomed over them. The bunny's nose twitched, and Koda smiled faintly, a brief respite from the weight of their worries. He would need to sneak his cat in soon.

In the kitchen, Momo and Mina stood side by side, giggling softly as they made fried egg rice, the gentle sounds offering a momentary escape.

The familiar routine of cooking offered them a small slice of normalcy, a way to focus their minds on something other than the gnawing anxiety that had settled in their stomachs. The soft clink of utensils, the sizzle of oil in the pan, and the aroma of fried egg rice filled the air, creating a comforting backdrop to their hushed conversation.

Their laughter wasn’t forced, but the enthusiasm was a mask for their lack of appetite and the anxiety that gnawed at their insides.

Momo's hands moved with precision as she flipped the eggs, her mind clearly elsewhere, but the rhythm of the task kept her grounded. Beside her, Mina stirred the rice, her usual energy dampened but still present in the jokes she told.

They had made a pact to eat together, finding comfort in each other's company. Maybe during one of these meals, they would find some semblance of peace, even if just for a little while.

In Tsu's room, the atmosphere was different, heavy with the shared weight of darkness that clung to them like a second skin. Ochako and Tsu had taken to sleeping in Tsu's room, both girls haunted by nightmares. They found comfort in each other's presence, huddled together under the covers like two lost children seeking shelter from a storm.

Ochako’s hand moved gently through Tsu's hair, her fingers weaving a calming rhythm that seemed to blend with the steady beat of their hearts. Tsu's voice, usually so strong, had softened to a croak as she whispered back reassurances, her words mingling with Ochako's in a comforting lullaby. They clung to each other, finding safety in the closeness.

Todoroki sat cross-legged on the floor of his room, his hands resting on his knees as he tried to meditate. His mind, however, was a war zone, haunted by the image of his brother's burnt remains being hauled to prison and the knowledge of his parents' impending divorce. His scar throbbed painfully every time he thought about it, the physical reminder of his family's turmoil adding to his mental anguish. He took deep, measured breaths, trying to calm the storm inside him, but the images persisted, a relentless assault on his peace.

In another room, Aoyama sat hunched over, clutching a pillow tightly against his chest. He was allowed to stay at the school, but now he used tactical weapons, a constant reminder of the shame he felt. Tears streamed down his face, his muffled sobs filling the quiet room. The guilt of his actions, the sense of betrayal he had inflicted on his friends, weighed heavily on him. He whispered apologies into the night, his voice cracking with each word. The moonlight that spilled through his window bathed the room in a cold, silvery light, but it did nothing to lift the darkness that had settled over his heart. He didn’t deserve their forgiveness.

Iida scrolled through pictures of him and his brother, his heart aching with every swipe. The blue light from his phone screen cast a lonely glow in the dark room, reflecting off his foggy glasses. He wanted to call his brother, to hear his voice, but hesitated, worried about not appearing strong. He didn't want to burden anyone with his feelings, even though he longed for the comfort of his brother's voice. He clenched his jaw, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over, the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him.

Elsewhere in the dorms, Toru and Ojiro were connected by a fragile thread of comfort, falling asleep together on the phone. The silence was comforting, but they would panic if they couldn't hear the other breathing. Hatsume had finally made Toru a suit that would protect her and disappear with her during combat, but Toru hadn't wanted to put it on for a long time. They both dreaded the return to classes, haunted by the visions of devastation and innocent lives lost. The phone line crackled softly, their breathing synchronized in a fragile connection that kept their fears at bay.

Mineta and Shoji sat quietly in Shoji's room, each lost in their thoughts. Shoji's large hands rested on his knees, his eyes distant as he stared at the floor. The memories of past battles and the fear of suddenly losing his classmates gnawed at him relentlessly. It was a fear that clung to him, insidious and ever-present, like a persistent bug he couldn't shake off.

Mineta, usually boisterous, was unusually quiet. The usual sparkle in his eyes was replaced by a haunted look, the guilt of his past behavior towards Mt. Lady and Midnight, and his female classmates, feeling icky and disgusted for treating them so pervertedly when they almost died weighed heavily on his conscience. The near-death experiences they had all faced brought him a new perspective, making his previous actions feel vile and unforgivable. The shame and regret twisted in his stomach, making it hard to meet Shoji's gaze or anyone else's.

The silence between them was heavy, but their presence provided each other a small measure of comfort.

The dorm was filled with a heavy silence, each student grappling with their own demons. Despite their proximity, they felt isolated in their pain, struggling to find a way to heal from the scars of the war. The evening stretched on, each tick of the clock a reminder that the night was still young.

And then there was Shouta Aizawa, awake in the stillness of the night with little Eri asleep in his arms. The soft, flickering light from the children's show on the television cast a gentle glow across the room, creating a cocoon of warmth and tranquility. Eri, nestled against his chest, was fast asleep, her breaths coming in gentle, rhythmic intervals.

Aizawa's fingers moved softly through her hair, the silky strands slipping through his touch as he offered silent reassurance with each stroke. He knew he should tug her into bed, but he couldn't bring himself to do it just yet. He needed a few more minutes with her warm presence, a reminder of the fragile yet resilient life he was entrusted with.

Aizawa's eyes wandered to his laptop, the screen dark and waiting. He sighed, knowing there were reports to review and emails to answer, but he decided it could stay shut. The digital demands of his work could wait; this moment with Eri was too precious to cut short.

His thoughts drifted to you, the new hire who had been a topic of much discussion. He didn't know much about you other than what Nemuri had mentioned before in passing and now in her lucid moments before slipping back into her coma.

He was visiting that night when Nemuri awoke and kept screaming your name, an indication of some message he didn't yet understand. You were coming over from somewhere outside Japan, and your media stunt piqued his curiosity.

Your hero name had made national headlines a few months ago when you openly condemned the world government for letting the villain situation in Japan deteriorate to the point where high school students had to step in as heroes in an interview. This statement had sparked national outrage, the impact of your statements was still reverberating throughout the world.

Parents, politicians, teachers, pro heroes, retired heroes, activists, universities, civilians and students had reshared the clip, their responses ranging from agreement to vehement opposition. Your boldness had shaken the status quo, making waves in a community that was already shaky and possibly past its edge.

Nezu’s decision to bring you on board was a calculated move, but the details of that calculation remained elusive. As the principal of U.A., Nezu was known for his shrewd, strategic thinking. If Nezu saw value in you, it was likely due to some unique qualities or capabilities you possessed that could benefit the school in ways not immediately apparent. There had to be a reason, a calculated move that Aizawa hadn't yet deciphered.

As he continued to stroke Eri's hair, he felt a mix of skepticism and curiosity about your arrival. What could you bring to U.A. that Nezu found so necessary? What kind of impact would you have on the students?

Eri stirred slightly, her tiny hand clutching his shirt. Aizawa smiled softly, his worries momentarily pushed aside.

He knew you had been spotted in Japan several times, not just as a spectator but actively involved in aiding the capture of remaining villains and providing relief to the heroes.

Your efforts extended beyond direct action; you had initiated several charities and secured sponsorships to support families devastated by villain attacks and heroes who were affected in the line of duty. These actions had garnered you a significant following and earned you a reputation for being a force for good in times of crisis.

Yet, despite your public persona, you maintained a guarded privacy. You refused to disclose details such as your age, height, or the reasons behind choosing an all-black shroud for your hero costume, apart from its emblem. You seemingly avoided media attention, declining certain magazine features and interviews.

Instead, you channeled your "celebrity" status towards advocating for societal change and supporting humanitarian causes. It was simple, if they wanted to talk to you, they had to donate. Your reluctance to engage with the press directly and your selective disclosures raised Aizawa's suspicions and defensive instincts, particularly when it came to the well-being of his students.

He was an underground hero himself. Why so worried?

Because he knew they were all suffering.

Nezu was in the process of trying to find a school therapist team that could be on call. And it killed him that he couldn't do anything about it other than allowing trips to the mall and being there when they got back. So he did not need a 'mysterious' loose cannon of a teacher negatively affecting them in any way. Any additional information he requested was denied under your contract binding the school to not show your image, ever. As far as he knew, only Nezu and Nemuri knew what you looked like.

He valued transparency and reliability in those who interacted with his students, qualities that seemed elusive in your case. The contrast between your public deeds and private secrecy only heightened his wariness.

Eri shifted in his lap, and Aizawa decided he didn't want to think about negative things while holding her. He gently scooped her up, placing her in her own bed and kissing her forehead before tucking the covers around her and turning on her cat night light before shutting the door, but not all the way. He made sure the nightlights in the hallway and bathroom were working before he forced himself to sleep in his bed and not on the couch because it was closer.

The darkness of his room offered a semblance of peace, but his mind remained active, turning over the complexities of the situation with you. It was his duty to safeguard his students from any potential threats, and that included being cautious about new additions to their environment.

As he closed his eyes, he tried to push aside the anxieties that had plagued him throughout the day. The comfort of his own bed, the familiar surroundings, and the knowledge that Eri was safe in the next room helped to ease the tension in his head. He had seen enough to know that vigilance was necessary, but he also knew that excessive worry would not serve him or his students well.

It didn't matter if you did end up being a bad influence. He would keep a close eye on you and be ready to stop anything that would harm his class.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @elarakive, @thealtofvalleyxdoodles, If you wanna be added lemme know!

That was the first chapter! So far there are 3 posted on my ao3 account.

I own none of the images or art!!!

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. I have a Bakugou x Sugar Baby Reader here in the master list. Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

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socyy

10 months ago

Hello! How are you? I hope things are getting better for you, at least a little bit. Is it okay if I can get Aizawa with a student reader who holds their breath when they cry? It’s a habit that I’ve had since I was little and I have no idea why. You can choose whether it’s a scenario or headcannons, I don’t mind at all! Thank you so much! Remember to take care of yourself xoxo

Watery Breaths - Aizawa

A/N: Hi! I’m doing alright. I think I’ve pushed myself a bit too far the past few weeks and am now suffering the consequences, but that’s alright. I hope you’re doing well! Take care of yourself as well! And for the sake of this fic, UA had the dorms before Bakugou was kidnapped. Sorry this is so rushed, it’s been a rough day <3

It first happened when Aizawa was sent to the hospital after the USJ attack. Much like his other students, you stood by his bedside when he was well enough to have company. Several of his students were crying, mostly tears of joy, but none of them held their breath like he thought you were doing. He didn’t think much of it though

The next time it happened was when Bakugou was kidnapped. You were there to watch him be taken away from you, and you did nothing about it. Or, at least that’s what you were telling yourself. Except you didn’t start crying until Aizawa placed a hand on your shoulder to lead you back to safety. You immediately began to sob as he gently pulled you away from where you last saw your best friend.

Not much later you had stopped making sounds, but AIzawa could feel how hard you tried not to cry. You had momentarily stopped breathing. He thought it was because of the intense scent of smoke surrounding the camp so he didn’t say anything until he got you and the remaining students back to UA where you’d be safe and sound.

You didn’t sleep that night. In fact, you didn’t even go to bed. When you returned to UA you settled into the corner of one of the couches, curling into a ball and burying your face into your knees as you began to cry again. You were left alone as your classmates dealt with this trauma in their own ways. Some went to wash away the day in an extremely long shower while others returned to their rooms to be alone.

You were still crying when Aizawa returned to the dorms late into the night. He was startled to still see you in the same place he had left you. Slowly, he lowered himself beside you as he pondered how to comfort you. That’s when he noticed your strained sobs again. It sounded almost as you were holding your breath.

“Y/N,” he said gently, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Take a deep breath. I’ll do it with you.” Aizawa inhaled deeply, encouraging you to do so as well. You nodded, drawing in a shaky breath and then exhaling it, breath quivering. But then you held your breath again.

Aizawa was unsure why you kept holding your breath. You couldn’t be embarrassed, he’s seen you aggressively burst into tears over the ending of a TV show you were finishing late one night in the common room. You weren’t afraid to cry in front of your homeroom teacher. So why are you sounding so strained now?

“Honey,” he cooed softly. “Keep breathing. Stop holding your breath.”

“I’m sorry,” you choked out as you took another shaky breath. “It’s a habit I’ve had ever since I was little. I always hold my breath when I cry.”

Aizawa smiled slightly as he ruffled your hair gently. “Well, stop it. You’re going to make yourself light headed.” He then proceeded to lead you through a few breathing exercises to calm you down. He made sure you were alright before escorting you up to your room to turn in for the night.

Now that he knows that you force yourself to stop breathing everytime you cry, Aizawa’s got more breathing exercises on hand to help you breath again. All you have to do is find him :)

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socyy

4 months ago

cw: matting press, unprotected sex, breeding kink. reblogs will be appreciated thank u

having a husband like nanami made you confirm that the rumor of english teacher’s getting pregnant every single month is true.

since you got the job, kento let you take the job — while at the same time making an extra income — however, realizing how tiring was planning every single class and the fact it was only because you got bored of only being a housewife, his plan of getting you pregnant every time he could just for you to take a rest from your students started.

“let me make you a pretty momma again.” he would whisper in your ear. his hot breath made you flustered. while his cock makes his way through your sloppy sex and as he’s rimming the tip of his shaft in the most sensitive part of your cunt, you couldn’t help but mewl at the sentence.

“ken. ngh, ngh.”

he would make this over and over again, just couldn’t help but looking at your flustered face while he was pinning you until all of your pussy dripped all of his cum, which he would always got it back to make sure you would get well-pregnant and take a maternity leave.

“damn, english teacher got knocked up again and we won’t have the subject for 2 months.”

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socyy

1 year ago

(21+ DNI) Nanami with his shy squirter. (based on my fav audio)

“Alright, get ready, I’m gonna go a little faster now,” Nanami spoke over your ear.

You breathed heavily, trying to look back at the mirror in front of you two.

You lay on Nanami’s bare chest while he fingered you.

He wanted you to watch yourself and see why squirting isn't bad.

“Let me get—hang on,” Nanami said, making you let out a noise in confusion.

“I’ve got an idea,” he said.

“W-what is it?” you asked, whining a bit since Nanami had stopped.

“Why don't you dip your fingers and get them wet? I want you to rub your clit for me while I finger you,” he said. You were unsure at first.

“W-why?” you asked him.

“It's so fucking hot, especially when we're in front of the mirror,” Nanami told you. He gazed at the mirror, watching you, and you swore you felt his dick move a bit underneath you.

He was wearing pants, so the bulge was pressing against your ass, which was torturous since you wanted his dick inside you.

Nanami slipped his finger out so you could dip yours in and then pull out before rubbing your clit.

Nanami found his way back to your pussy.

“Oh my god, look at you, angel,” Nanami spoke.

“So fucking beautiful,” he added, turning you on with the sudden compliment.

“Look at this pretty pussy,” he said, making you look at the mirror.

“Look at how hard your nipples get when I finger you, princess,” he said with a smirk, as if he was proud.

You moaned and clenched around his finger as you felt something.

“Shit, do you feel that?” he asked. You nodded in reply, moaning and writhing in his hold.

“Kento…” you whined, trying to pull away and avoid that feeling.

“Just relax, don't think about it, angel,” Nanami reassured you.

“Just feel it,” he added. You threw your head back, closing your eyes as you moaned loudly.

“Don't hold yourself back,” Nanami whispered in your ear, giving you goosebumps.

You couldn't hold it anymore.

“Fuck!” Nanami let out after his fingers hit your g-spot. He pulled away to see you squirt, it even reached the mirror.

You lay on his chest, trying to catch your breath.

“Look at how you squirted all over my hand,” Nanami said, showing you his hand, but you tried shoving it away.

“It's disgusting,” you said.

“No, it's fucking hot,” he told you.

“You're lying,” you said.

“I’m serious, I love it, princess,” Nanami let out.

“No—it's a mess, Kento. Look how it reached the mirror. It's embarrassing,” you told him, covering your face in embarrassment.

“No, it's not a mess. It's not embarrassing,” Nanami reassured you, using his other hand to remove your hand from your face.

“I don't hate it, baby,” he told you after you looked at him.

“Really?” you asked.

“I am, and I think you need to do more.”

————————————————————————

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socyy

11 months ago

All I Wanted (M.Wheeler x F!Reader)

Warnings: Smut, cheating, public sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, praise, p in v, mirror sex, edging, semi-mean!Mike, hair pulling, degrading (Mike calling reader dumb, a slut, a cock whore and a whore)

Word Count: 976

It was wrong, you both knew it was wrong. She's your best friend and he's..well, her boyfriend, just hers, only hers. It's betrayal and dirty, so why are you still doing it? It's been months of you guys sneaking around and each time you'd talk to her she'd smile. Saying how you're the best, an amazing friend and how thankful she is to have met you. It hurts you to know what she doesn't, but God, it just feels so good.

You're pushed up against the skating rink's bathroom sink with his face between your thighs. You want to stop, you can't do this to your best friend. And he wants to stop, he's her boyfriend and it's just wrong. But the way his tongue moves around, in and out of you, the way his fingers would move and curl deep in your dripping wet pussy. The way his nose would graze your clit, the way his hot breath would fan over it.

The way he looks up at you with those eyes, it's all you wanted. Your head tilted back against the mirror, one leg on Mike's shoulder, it was really a sight to see. "Make some noise for me, baby. Let me hear those pretty moans." He panted and pleaded, chin drenched from your juices.

"Just don't wanna get caught, Mikey.."

He moaned, sending vibrations all throughout your body. That nickname, the way you say it and the way it just rolls off your tongue, it could make him cum right there. It could make him break up with her in a heartbeat.

"Love it when you say my name..do it again." He demanded, wanting to hear how you say his name. "Mikey.." you whimpered, hand moving to his hair, lightly tugging on the strands. Mike moaned at the feeling, loving the way your fingers ran through his hair, pulling at it whenever he hit a certain spot.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you, curling them while he tongue fucked your hole, his nose brushing against your clit. It was all enough for you to come undone for him in a matter of seconds. He stood up, placing a hand on the back of your thigh and the other on your lower back, holding you up. His chin and part of his shirt was soaked, his hair was messy and his face flushed.

"Don't be scared to make a little noise, let them hear." He smiled, "And get caught by El and Will? I think I'll pass." You chuckled, "We won't get caught-"

"How are you so sure? Either of them could walk in."

"I'm not sure but just trust me, please?"

You stood silent for a while, "Fine. But if we get caught I swear on everything I love-"

"I'll deal with it." He said, "Now turn around for me, pretty girl."

You listened, turning around placing your hands on the sink, looking at Mike from the mirror. He lifted your skirt up, gripping and kneading your ass. He unbuttoned his pants, pulling them and his boxers down enough for his dick to spring out. He hissed at the feeling of the cold air against him.

Mike looked at you from in the mirror, making eye contact and giving you a smirk before giving a hard thrust. You let out surprised a moan, "Give a girl warning next time, yeah?"

He shook his head, smiling and giving your neck a kiss. "Ready?"

You gave him a nod and he started off with slow, sensual thrusts, squeezing your hips and placing kisses on your jaw and neck. He was so close to you, his chest on your back and his face in the crook of your neck. Inhaling your scent, intoxicated and in love with the way you smelled.

His hands moved from your hips, lightly tracing his fingers over your skin and under your shirt. He stopped at your tits, squeezing them as he picked up the pace. You wonder if anyone could hear you guys. If they can hear the skin slapping and the obscure moans the two of you let out.

He looked up, looking at your reflection, the way your face contorted in pleasure with each thrust he gave. "Mike, I'm so fucking close.." you breathed.

"Hold it."

"I can't..I can't hold it Mikey.."

"Yes you can. We both know you can. Hold it like the good girl I know you are."

You whimpered, mouth falling open at the harsh thrusts Mike was giving. Your head dropped at the feeling of Mike's cock hitting g-spot over and over again. "Raise your head and look at yourself."

You whined, Mike let out a huff and grabbed a fistful of your hair, "I said, raise your head and look at yourself, are you dumb? Huh? Dumb on my cock already?"

"Yes, yes, yes.." you whined, which Mike chuckled at, "My dumb little cock whore."

"Look at you, fucking your best friend's boyfriend when she's right out there. She probably already knows about you whoring around and sleeping with me."

Mike made you make eye contact with him, his pretty face and smile contrasting with his words and harsh thrusts. His fingers made their way down to your clit, rubbing rough and fast circles on it. "Cum for me. Cum for me like the slut we both know you are."

With one last hard thrust, Mike came inside you, his nut filling your pretty slutty pussy up and claiming it as his once again. "I love this fucking pussy, fuck."

A knock was heard at the door and it opened, just enough for the person to sneak in. "Are you guys done?" Will asked, Mike looked down at you and back up at will,

"Give us another forty-five minutes, I'm gonna need another round before I go back to Hawkins."

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socyy

1 year ago

VAMPIRE AU | ANEMO BOYS

- IN WHICH: you’re a touch starved vampire, who just can’t seem to keep her fangs to herself…

nsfw/suggestive

(i wrote this very quick as the idea just popped into my head, so it’s not profread!!)

you were eternally grateful for the friends you had, after all, they let you relentlessly suck their blood when needed. or more like, when you wanted. were you going to die if you went a day or two without human blood? no. could you have easily suck the blood of an animal? yes. but human blood just tasted oh so much better, especially when it came from them.

they felt special whenever you’d ask for a taste, little did they know, they were one of many, and you were just getting started.

KAZUHA

never failed to grasp the back of your head as you dove your fangs into his soft, delicate skin, grabbing a handful of your hair as he threw his head back in pain. his refreshing cederwood scented cologne intoxicating your nostrils everytime you released your breath to drink more. he was never hesitant about you taking his blood, especially when he knew you craved it, because, he craved you just as much. and you knew this as he made no effort to hide his soft moans that would shamelessly escape his lips, praising you, and begging you to take more, “mmgh k-keep going— take as much as you need—more…more…“ he couldn’t deny that it hurt, when you so hungrily devoured him, as if he was nothing more than another evening snack. however, he also couldn’t deny that he enjoyed it, maybe a bit more than he should. sometimes he’d find himself interrupting you to shift his positions, as to hide his growing erection when you’d swirl your tongue around his neck, making sure to take every last drop.

XIAO

was more of the aloof type, never one to show his emotions in public. his voice was always nothing but stern and his tone was cold. sometimes talking to him gave you chills, and you’d be left wondering if the two of you were really friends. that’s why you found yourself often begging for him to share his blood to you in public, causing him to break his cold nature. and unfortunately for him, he couldn’t deny your puppy dog eyes as he’d scuff and grab your hand, leading the two of you to the closest bathroom. your favorite part about him besides his neck, was his arms, so firm and muscular, his veins often popping out as he grabbed your waist, forcefully digging his fingers into your skin as to not make a sound when you’d suck his blood. if he wasn’t biting his bottom lip until he bled, he’d find himself slipping, letting out low pitched hums, groans, and curses. that’s when he couldn’t deny it any longer, he needed you to give him more than just your fangs, he wanted your whole body, “fuck, fuck, — i can’t— just make it quick— before i…”

HEIZOU

was the most needy, with most times instead of you asking him to take his blood, it’d be him asking you. no matter the place, time, or event, heizou wouldn’t fail to beg you to take him right then and there, teasing you by wearing loose fitting clothing, rubbing his neck continuously and playing it off by saying he’s “hurt” and “needs assistance”, and most of all, touching you directly. he’d teasingly slowly rub on your thigh up and down , just to make his way up your shirt, fondling your breasts as kissed you deeply, swirling his tongue along your fangs. “come on…don’t you wanna suck my blood? just a little…please..” breaking off from the kiss, he’d stick out his tongue that was stained red with his blood that escaped when it pricked your sharpened tooth, winking as he toyed with you. he knew what he was doing, and he knew he would always be the victor because you couldn’t resist your urges. and you’d be taking much more than “a little” because more than you craved his blood, you craved to hear his needy pleads beg you to stop, in which you wouldn’t, because that’s what he asked for, right?

SCARAMOUCHE

was the best at saying the opposite of what he wanted. constantly pleading with you to get off of him, and to “go ask someone else”, yet, whenever you’d agree to follow through with his demands, you found yourself continuing to feast on his sweet blood as he firmly held your head in place, deeply rooted in his cold neck. scaramouche dreaded the nights where he’d be unable to sleep without you coming to claim what was yours. his pride was too large to ever ask of you to suck his blood, or for him to even agree to the idea. so he loved it when you’d force yourself upon him, digging your claws into his hair as you sprawled on top of him, like a crazed hunter who’s found its prey, leaving him helpless at your embrace. his denial turned to silence, then turned into sensual whines, him trying his very best to conceal his pleasure by biting his hand as his usual pale complexion hued red. “aah—aah—aah—stop- stop- it really…really…feels…” you loved making him crumble before you, and one day, you were going to make him scream for more. scaramouche, so high and mighty, being knocked off his pedestal by a persistent vampire who wants nothing more than his blood.

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socyy

8 months ago

"Please, I highly doubt there is anyone out there that I could actually date and be happy with."

Gojo doesn't exactly remember how he, Suguru, and Shoko got into such a conversation, but here they were anyway.

Suguru grinned at his friend, "really Satoru? The world is a big place, maybe you just haven't met them yet."

"Yeah," Shoko started, "they could be anywhere. You may even meet them today."

Satoru scoffed and stood up from his desk. His chair being pushed out as he held his arms out.

"Fine! Watch this!"

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath

"If there is a god out there, please let the love of my life that i will spend eternity with and love till my last breath and even in death fall into my arms right this very instant!"

After a few seconds, Gojo smirked, "see? Nothing happened!"

Shoko sighed, "thats not what i-"

There was a sudden crack in the ceiling. The floor shaking slightly as if someone was thrown right onto the roof. Which was when the three sensed a cursed spirit and a sorcerer fighting just outside. But before anyone could move, the ceiling gave way and someone fell right into Gojo's outstretched arms.

"Oh wow, nice catch," you said as if you weren't thrown so hard to the point that your body went straight through the roof.

Gojo couldn't keep his mouth from falling open as he continued to stare at your smiling face.

Both Suguru and Shoko snickered at the sight.

"Looks like your prayer was answered after all, Satoru."

"Huh? Prayer?"

You glanced around the room before you felt Gojo's grip tighten around you causing you to look back up at him.

"Marry me."

"...hah?"

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