Oh My God I Neef Him So Bad

oh my god i neef him so bad

everyone in my inbox im not ignoring you just writers block

beware. megumi f.

megumi who's the silent kid in the back of your 4th period biology class and you only noticed him because hes wearing something like this.

megumi who's actually really good at drawing and makes unrealistic characters like this and gives them clothes he would probably have.

megumi who watches breaking bad, daria, mtv downtown, south park and his favorite movie is the outsiders and the hitman

megumi who only wears wired headphones and sometimes beats when it goes with his outfit. blasts deftones, the smiths, mcr and foo fighters.

megumi who has straight B-'s and is fine with it. he really doesnt know what he wants to be when he grows up and hasn't put any thought into it.

megumi who plays rosemary by deftones on his guitar religiously

megumi who gets nervous easily so it makes his palms all hot and sweaty.

megumi who ends up joining a band in his junior year of highschool, their only guitarist cus hes so good they don't even need another one.

megumi who ends up performing with them at a festival and start to get a little popular after that.

blondieeu xx

anon sent me an ask about toddler yuuji putting flowers in readers hair and reader putting one in Sukuna’s hair and of COURSE MY ASS DELETED IT- so here it is in a not so pretty format ☹️🫶🏻

——-

Tiny legs toddle over to sukuna, only to bypass him completely and waddle to you, a dandelion clenched in his fist. The yellow flower looks brighter in the sunlight, but not as bright as your smile when yuuji nudges the flower at you proudly. “For me?” You coo, and he nods victoriously.

“Head!” He says, patting your head gently with his free hand. You give him a hum of understanding, bowing down so the small boy can plant the weed in himself; he does so, happily, and Sukuna’s heart squeezes at the sight.

There’s a contrast of the yellow that now nests in your tresses versus the hues in your hair, and when you turn to smile at him, Sukuna’s own lips curl into a small smirk. He’d never tell you, but the fact his favorite little twerp has taken more than a liking to you means the world to him, and he adores watching you both interact as smoothly as you do.

He sees the love in Yuuji’s eyes. He’s almost positive it’s the same love he looks at you with.

When the small child comes back over to give you another flower, you capture it in your own hand to slip it into Sukuna’s in the same place as yours rests. He blinks, unamused, only for you to fall into a fit of laughter.

“Looks good with your tattoos,” you say, leaning up to press a kiss to his jawline, which he hums appreciatively at. “Makes you less scary.”

“I’m not scary,” he scoffs. “I’m threatening.”

“Oh, right, of course,” you snort.

Yuuji’s eyes suddenly light up and his chubby legs carry him back to the dandelions, one hand grabs the yellow weed, the other grabs a puffy, white one. When he runs back to show you both, the puffs have disappeared from the bud of the dandelion and flown into the air, leaving just a stem.

“For you!” He chirps, passing you the yellow weed. Then, he turns to Sukuna and thrusts his small hand at his brother- only to then drop in confusion when there’s no longer fluff adorning the weed. “Huh?”

“It blew away, bud,” Sukuna sighs. “Gotta be careful with those, be gentle.”

Yuuji merely blinks big eyes at his brother in confusion, but it quickly fades and turns to pride as he ushers the stem to his older brother. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“We’cm ‘suku!”

a slight continuation of this

no caller ID pops on your screen, pulling your attention away from your previous task at hand: not fucking up your eyeliner. you typically wouldn’t care if it was a little uneven, but you’re going on a date tonight, for the first time in so long, and you want everything to go as smoothly as possible.

which is why you groan when you end the call, and that same no caller ID pops right back up seconds later. you know who it is—who else would it be? you figured he’s already seen your story of being excited for going on your first date in a while, on the only app you hadn’t blocked him on. petty? perhaps, but it’s on him to be keeping up with you despite you cursing him out for wasting your time and then blocking him right after.

you watch it ring though, contemplating for a while longer than you should. you blocked him for a reason. no need to entertain his same shit that he always spews to you when he realizes that he might be losing you once more?

….but it doesn’t hurt to hear the hero beg for you.

“What do you want, Bakugou?” You sigh irritably as you finally answer his call, putting him on speaker as you go back to even out your eyeliner. You hear him huff on the other side of the phone at the use of his surname, but he doesn’t say anything about it, instead, quickly telling you what he’s been bothering you for.

“Who’s the fuckin’ loser that’s gonna drool over how good your tits look in that stupid green dress you love so much?” Bakugou grunts, and you instantly feel your face heating at his crude words. You glance over with a frown at that same green dress that makes your tits look good, where it hangs on your closet.

“None of your damn business, Bakugou.” You snap at him, wondering if it’s too late to find something else to wear. “Not like you ever took me out in my stupid green dress.” Your voice holds a level of bitterness that only he can bring out of you, and you hear his sigh through the speakers.

“I told you this before, I’m always—”

“Busy.” You cut him off, voice suddenly thick as you think back on the countless rejections he’s splattered at your feet every time you tried to further your relationship with him. “You reminded me of how busy you’ve been since you first started this whole situationship.”

“Situation—? Huh? We were dating!” Bakugou protests with a huff, and you can hear how he paces the floor quickly. You glare at your phone, setting down your liner to instead pick of your (his) favorite lipgloss.

“You’d have to ask me out to be dating, Bakugou. You’d have to court me to be dating, Bakugou. You’d have to make time for me and take me out on dates and not hide me to fucking date me, Bakugou.” You spit at him, venom dripping off of your lips in waves. You don’t know why you answered, why you even entertained him. You shake your head with a huff when the line goes quiet, eyebrows quirking up when your date sends you a text to make sure you’re still on for tonight.

“I’m sorry.” Bakugou mutters pathetically, his voice suddenly soft. You hesitate, for some reason, when it comes to texting your date back. Why do you always hesitate when Bakugou is around?

“Let me make it up to you, court you, and shit. I can take you to one of my favorite places, you can wear that pretty green dress and that gloss you know I love.” His voice is pleading, thickening and sweet and suffocating. You shouldn’t respond, should reply back a yes to your date.

“Please? You know how much you mean to me.” Bakugou mumbles, and you can hear the earnestness in his voice. Why haven’t you said yes to your date yet?

“I’ll do better this time. Just one more chance, sweetheart.” Bakugou’s voice is so soft, you’ve never heard him this vulnerable before. You sigh with a shake of your head, slumping back into your seat in defeat.

…

Sorry, I can’t make it tonight. Something came up. Maybe we can reschedule for another time?

thinking about…

satoru as a husband ᡣ𐭩

words: 1.3k

lazily, he slots himself on the couch, laying across the long piece of furniture, his feet dangling off the edge. he thought about how you would get upset that he dirtied the couch, but he would brush it off by telling you he’d buy you a whole new set.

just a minute.

he swore he closed his eyes for one second, only for 45 minutes to have passed by. when he had finally opened his eyes he remained on the couch, except you had weaseled your way to move his heavy head onto your lap, running your fingers through his snow-like hair.

“hi handsome” you smile down at him. he blinks and yawns. “i thought i heard the door open and when i finally came down to investigate here you are asleep” you giggle and slightly pinch his nose.

he crinkles it slightly and sends you a small smile. “ ‘m sorry baby, i could’ve sworn i closed my eyes for one second. but there’s nothing better than to wake up and see your pretty face” he reaches for the hand that's in his hair and lays gentle kisses from your wrist to your palm. internally you frowned, he looked exhausted and your heart ached a little when he winced from adjustung his head so he could look at you better. he worked so hard to provide, he worked so hard for you.

you smile brightly and place a kiss on his forehead, “you’re so sappy” and he chuckles, bringing your hand to cup his cheek.

“why don't we get you cleaned up, yeah?” he stares into your eyes, tender and warm but fatigue laced in his icy blue orbs, your gaze lingering on each other for just a second too long. he sighs and reluctantly gets up, leaving you and your warmth to make his way to the bathroom.

the tension in his muscles melts away when he feels the pelt of hot water grace his supple skin. he sighs, his head turned down with eyes close. he feels the ache in his body fade away until it resides as a slight ebb. it made him even more sleepy. after shampooing and lathering his body in soap, he turns the shower off, and steps in front of the steamy mirror.

he notices the growing dark under eye circles and slight stubble he's been neglecting recently. he notices the slight wrinkles that are growing prominent from the frequency of his frowning lately. he grimaces, turning around to flip off the light and closes the door.

his eyes are met with dim candle lights and incense burning, you're sitting prettily on your knees with a silky pink gown. “what's all this for pretty?” he feels his heart tightening, making his way towards you, his knees touching the edge of your bed.

“i wanted to do some skin care on you, you never take care of yourself toru” you look into his azure eyes as you pout.

how did he ever end up finding you.

he brings his hand to your face, gently thumbing your cheek, “i don’t focus on such frivolous things, i have to keep my girl safe and happy. you didn’t have to do all this for me baby.”

you stand up from the bed, grabbing both of satoru’s hands and speak to him, “i want to take care of you toru, you’re so good to me i need to return the gesture, it’s what my husband deserves.” he chuckles and brings his forehead to yours, “you don’t need to do anything for me. you don’t owe me anything either, everything i do for you is purely because i want to do it. all i do for you is the bare minimum, i should be doing more in fact!”

you pout again upset at how he discredits his actions. as if making you quit your job so you can stay at home stress free and spoiling you with love and thousand dollar shopping sprees is bare minimum. not to mention all the traveling you guys do when he spontaneously mentions that he’s taking you on vacation. “you do so much more than that and you know it. all i’m asking you for is to lay in bed and relax!” you shove his shoulder.

he finally flops on the bed with his hands behind his head, waiting for you to move. he wiggles his eyebrows at you which makes your eyes roll but makes you smile nonetheless.

“i like where this is going” he whistles at you as you straddle his lap, you lightly slap his arm. “get your mind out of the gutter. nothing is happening tonight just so we’re clear” he rolls his eyes and mumbles a ‘yeah yeah’.

you place a headband to hold his hair back and softly say, “okay close your eyes.” he complies, his white eyelashes fluttering shut. you carefully place 2 cool cucumbers on his eyes and he sighs. he feels like a puddle, your soft touch and home-like scent invading his senses sending him into a plane of euphoria. next you grab a clay mask and a brush, gently painting his face with the gray liquid.

“how’s it feel lovey?” he hums and sighs, leaning further into the fluffy feather filled pillows beneath his head. “feels wonderful baby” you giggle and continue putting on the mask. “okay toru, gonna leave that on for 15 minutes kay?” he nods but then his eyebrows furrow.

“what am i supposed to do?” he had never been able to take a moment and put everything on pause before, the thought of having to lay still and do nothing made him a bit antsy. after placing the container that held the liquid mask in, you turn to him, “just relax baby, would you like some water kind sir?” he hears the clink of glassware and the swish of water grow closer and he smiles.

gojo satoru had never ever been pampered. spoiled rotten maybe, but no one had ever taken care of him the way you are now. sure he was praised in the highest degree in the clan, and sure he was fawned over by a broad sea of girls, both young and old. but no one had ever cared about him so deeply that his well being was always a priority. he was amazed by the thought of you caring about him so much that you would go out of your way to take care of him in a way no one else had ever done. all he could think of at the moment was how incredibly kind your heart is and how he was so fortunate enough to have ever stumbled upon your life. he was so grateful that you let him into your life. he was so grateful for you.

“i would love some m’lady” you bring the straw to his puckered lips and he smiles.

after doing 2 face masks, eye patches, your own night time routine and plucking his eyebrows, satoru finally snuggled up to you, his face buried in your chest with his arms wrapped around your torso.

“thank you for taking care of me baby, you’re the best wife a man could have ever asked for” you giggle as he peppers kisses on your chest. “of course, i love loving you. it's so easy, like breathing.”

“i love being your husband. i love loving you.” you can hear the tiredness in his voice grow with each word he says. a couple seconds later his soft snores could be heard throughout the silence of your home.

bakugou x reader

summary - life as kirishima's roommate is good. like, 90% of the time. smut hurt comfort, it's valentines day. this is a repost of my first fic ever. soft kiribaku poly ending. praise, degredation, choking manhandling rough sex aftercare. daddy kink, slut/aff.

Kirishima was a good roommate. That’s what you reminded yourself. He paid his rent on time, cleaned up after himself, and was polite and kind. Kirishima wasn’t the problem. You were working late, again, on your laptop trying to organize data on a spreadsheet in a way that told the right story. You glanced at the clock with a sigh. 8:14PM, on Valentines Day. Ugh. Your phone lit up.

Kirishima: working late again?

You: yeah

Kirishima: okay well I picked up your favorite tea for you when I went out this morning. It’s in the kitchen

Kirishima: they work you too hard :( it’s a holiday!!!

You: you are the sweetest

Kirishima: you can take a break every once and a while!!! Relax a little.

You sigh. It’s not like living with a sweet pro hero on the rise didn’t have its perks. You padded softly down the hallway in bare feet, now certain that the problem would be waiting for you in the kitchen. Your suspicions were confirmed when you found him, so comfortable he could have owned the place, tall and blonde, his smartphone almost comically small in his large hands. He grunts a greeting to you and you nod, determined to ignore him. He seems to have other ideas.

“Shouldn’t you ask me how my day was or something?” You go to the cabinet and answer with your back to him.

“That’s not information I was planning on collecting.” You glance over your shoulder. “Where’s Kirishima?” Bakugou snorts a laugh.

“Idiot got slimed at work today. He’s in the shower.” You nod slowly, opening the cabinet. There it is, your favorite lavender chamomile tea, at the center of the highest shelf, much closer to the ceiling than it is to the counter. Bakugou watches you struggle with an amused half smile. You start by rocking up onto the balls of your feet, doing a little jump to try and reach the box, unintentionally making a soft high pitched grunt as you exert yourself. You bite down on your lower lip, hard, and turn around, meeting his condescending smirk. He flashes you a pair of scarred palms, he wasn’t going to help you if you didn’t ask. You huff haughtily and drag over a stool. Bakugou watches you climb on it, tucking his phone in his pocket and staring at your ass as if this was the most entertaining show on television. You’re kneeling on the stool, and it’s rocking back and forth underneath you on the uneven kitchen tile when you turn around and glare at him. He gives you a guileless smile.

“Need something, princess?”

“No.” You say quickly and go back to trying to reach the box, aware of how the large t-shirt you were wearing would ride up when you stretched, exposing probably a little more of your upper thigh and tiny shorts than you wanted. Goddamnit. You were still, about an inch away from being able to reach the tea. Bakuogu loses patience now, coming up behind you and lifting you unceremoniously by the waist, letting you snatch the box of tea, and then setting you down so that you were sitting on the counter in front of him. Pain blooms on your ribs from the tightness of his grip. He was close, too close, uncomfortably close. You could count the freckles that ran across the bridge of his nose, close.

“Whaddya say?” He rumbles in a deep growl, hands moving down from your waist, lightly trailing your silhouette until they reached the bare skin of your thighs. Your mouth goes dry.

“Thank you.” You say quickly, a pink blush dusting your cheeks. He smirks.

“Not what I was lookin’ for.” You roll your eyes and he firmly catches your chin, holding your attention on him. “Try again,” He coos condescendingly.

“Bakugou let me down!” you whine, trying to wiggle out of his grip, pulling on his wrist, but he doesn’t release your face, his other hand pins your leg to the counter.

“Not till ya thank me properly.” You scowl at him.

“Thank you, Bakugou.” You say coldly. He shakes his head.

“I dunno how you’re not gettin’ this. Are ya stupid or somethin’?” You sigh angrily.

“What, what is it you want me to say, you sick fuck.” You think maybe he’ll get angry and release you but instead, he seems to find your annoyance comical. He lets go of your face with a chuckle. You push on his hard chest and he laughs harder, moving backward, letting you slide off the counter.

“Nothin’ like that.” He says when he’d composed himself, as you fill your teakettle with water, your back to him. “I was just thinkin’ since I did a heroic thing, you could say thank you Dynamight.” You set the kettle on the stove.

“Thank you, Dynamight.” You say quietly. “You’re a real dick, you know that?” He watches you light the stove.

“Heard that a few times.” He admits. “But that’s not what you think of me, is it?” You turn around.

“It is actually.”

“Hmmmm,” He rumbles thoughtfully. “Don’t think so.” You nod emphatically.

“Definitely.” He smirks.

“And what have I done,” he makes his way around the island so that he’s standing right in front of you, “To make you say such a nasty fuckin’ thing, huh?” You swallow nervously, but you plant your feet on the tile. This was your chance.

“You-you come over all the time,” you say quickly, “You’re always here, and whenever you do you rearrange all the things I have in the kitchen and I can’t find the things I need.” He nods.

“Didja consider that maybe you have your cabinets organized wrong?”

“No.” You say plaintively. “They’re my cabinets, and I liked the way they were before.”

“Didja consider how fucken cute you get when you’re all riled up like this?” You blink at him in shock. “It’s adorable. Come on.” He growls. “Stomp one of those pretty little feet.” Your hands ball into fists. “I can see why shitty hair likes you so much.” That makes you stop in your tracks and wince. You knew Kirishima had a kind of puppy dog crush on you, but you’d chosen to ignore it. “Yeah but he’s not really your type, though, is he?” You’re not sure when Bakugou got so close to you again. “Not that you make it easy on any of us,” he leans down to growl in your ear, delighting in the goosebumps that erupt on your neck. “Walkin’ round here in those tiny little shorts.” He lifts you again, gently by the waist this time, sitting you back on the counter so that you’re eye level with him. “Lookin’ so fucken good, all the time,” and then his mouth is buried in your neck, you gasp, you can’t help it, the blood rushes to your face, “Think if I removed the huge stick from your ass,” he breathes in your ear, “I’d be doin’ everyone a favor.” He pushes right against the counter and you can feel his tongue and teeth just above your collarbone.

“Ahh, I,” you get out and he groans.

“Don’t worry, princess.” he breathes in your ear and you moan, “I’m gonna turn off that overactive brain of yours for a little bit, huh?” And then his lips crash against yours, his huge warm hands roaming your back and then moving lower to squeeze your ass and your thighs. His tongue swipes your lips and you open your mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He laughs into your mouth and then pulls away. “Thought you didn’t like me?”

“I don’t.” You breathe, but it’s getting harder to believe as your face flushes and you reach for him, taking a fistful of his soft t-shirt and pulling him back to you, cupping his face in your hands. He squeezes your ass again, kneading it almost painfully, then one hand moves slowly, too slowly, between your legs, lifting up the hem of your oversized t-shirt, fingertips brushing the soft inside of your thighs. He doesn’t stop there, though hands ghosting the skin underneath your shirt until they reach your chest, finding your nipples easily, palming them through your soft bralette, and then pinching them hard enough so that you gasp into his open mouth. The sound of your own voice, already so debauched, already so high and soft, reminds you of what you’re doing, in your own kitchen, and you don’t even like Bakugou, do you? It’s getting harder to tell when he’s everywhere, pulling your body flush against his own, when you can feel his cock, hard through his grey sweatpants. You reach for the rational, for a moment of clarity.

“Ba-bakugou,” You stutter, and he lifts his head from the crook of your neck, where he was planting a rough open mouth kiss that you’re certain will bloom into a purple bruise.

“What?” He snaps, and you can’t remember what you were going to say, you can only stare into his eyes. He searches your face, eyes flicking from your swollen plush lips to your red cheeks. “No thinking.” He orders decisively, going back to your neck, flicking his soft velvety tongue over your sensitive skin, followed by a hard bite that makes you gasp again. “Quiet.” He growls. “Are ya that pent up,” he lifts his head again, “That you can’t even handle-” You kiss him, hungrily, desperately, maybe he was right, how long had it been, since you felt touched like this, since you felt wanted like this? Maybe that’s why you find yourself lifting his shirt over his head, and kissing him harder, running your hands over his muscled chest, littered with raised scars. You don’t even flinch when he pulls you down off the counter, reaching a hand between your legs, the other hooked around your waist. He shoves you up against the refrigerator as he circles your clit with one finger, delighting in how it makes you jump, and then arch your back, your eyes opening quickly and then closing slowly. “Look at me.” He says, it comes out hitched and desperate but you obey immediately and he watches your pupils dilate as you whimper, expertly wringing wave after wave of pleasure from you. Your soft, sweet hiccupping gasp when he slips a finger inside of you drives him insane,

“Oh,” you moan, eyes closing again, “Fuck, Bakugou”

“Did you really come in here and climb on that stool with no fuckin’ panties on? Dirty goddamn slut.” He spits the last word as he pumps in and out of you, scissoring his fingers a little. You don’t answer, you can’t, because he’s just pressed up against that fleshy spot inside of you, the one your fingers aren’t quite long enough to reach and he watches as you tremble, as your eyes become glossy and unfocused, your soft, wet lips part.

“Oh,” you gasp, “’m gonna cum.” He laughs harshly.

“You aren’t.” You blink up at him in surprise.

“Can’t help it!” You whine. “‘M gonna.”

“No.” He snarls. “You wanna be a good girl for me, right princess?” You nod emphatically, delirious from the pleasure.

“Yes, wanna be a good girl for you.” You get out. “Please, please let me cum, please I wanna,” you press your forehead to his chest and keep mumbling, and this display of submission awakens something feral inside of him, “Wanna so badly, ‘m so close-”

“Good girls cum on their daddy’s cocks.” He snarls at you and you look up at him sharply, for a moment he wonders if he pushed you too far but then your hands are fumbling with the drawstring on his sweatpants. “Easy, easy,” he says, and you whimper when he withdraws his hand from you, but he rips off your shorts and steps out of his pants almost as quickly. His hard cock springs loose from his dark green boxers, and it’s so pretty, long and thick, hooked upwards, you can’t help but lick your lips at the sight of it dripping with precum, the tip of it purple with need. He follows your gaze with a satisfied smirk. “Think you can take it all?” You look up at him, wide eyed.

“Yes, daddy, I want-” but that’s all you get out before he practically knocks the wind out of you lifting you back up on the counter and easing inside you, it takes every ounce of self-control he has, to wait until you stretch to accommodate him, groaning loudly at how soft and warm you are.

“So fuckin’ tight, princess,” He breathes.

“Oh, oh my god.” Your eyes widen as he starts to thrust inside of you, slowly at first and then picking up speed, “”m gonna,”

“Go ahead slut, come on,” he goads, “Cum all over my fucking cock,” You lean forward and dig your nails into his shoulder blades as your release overcomes you, white-hot pleasure ripping through the core of your body, before then, you’d been biting down on your moans, conscious of your roommate, of your neighbors. But you lose all control now, and you cry out his name like a prayer as he fucks you through the most intense orgasm you’ve had in years. Bakugou groans loudly as you clench around him, feeling your inner walls flutter, “Good fucking girl,” he snarls, watching your eyes roll back in your head as you slump into his chest. You barely feel him move you, but as your vision clears you realize you’re standing on your tiptoes bent over the counter, legs trembling. He pounds into you and you cry out, reaching for something to brace yourself with, fumbling for the backsplash, the edge of the counter, anything. He grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your back into a harsh arch.

“Oh my god,” you get out, “Oh my god, oh my god!”

“Yeah,” you can feel his smirk, “Am I your fuckin’ god? Tell me how it feels.” He commands and you obey, babbling praise incoherently

“So so good, daddy,” you moan, “You feel so good, don’t stop, don’t stop please, I need it,” He pulls your hair back, lifting you off the counter as he fucks you harder, leaning down to growl in your ear.

“Who makes you feel this fucking good huh? Who is it, bitch?”

“You daddy,” you chant, feeling a second orgasm building inside of you, that coil in your stomach begins to tighten. He feels you clench around him.

“Gonna cum again, huh slut?” He slaps your ass hard. “Who’s pussy is this?” His pumps become erratic as he chases his own high. “Whose tight fucking pussy is this, tell me, and then cum for me.” He rakes his nails down your back with his free hand, your tongue lolling out of your mouth.

“It’s yours, it’s yours please, daddy,” you cry out. He grunts loudly,

“Come on princess,” He says, “Cum for me.” Your orgasm wracks your body, and your cunt clenches around him, “Fuck, fuck, FUCK.” He snarls, exploding inside of you, releasing your hair. He fucks you gently through his own release, listening to your soft mewls, watching you shudder under his hands. He swears, the teakettle behind him starts to whistle and he whirls around and turns the stove off, reluctantly leaving your warmth. He only leaves you for a second, you’re trembling, so he scoops you up and cradles your body to his. You snuggle unconsciously into his chest and he deposits you on the couch, wrapping you in a soft throw blanket. He leaves you there, for only a minute, coming back with a steaming mug of tea that he sets gently on a coaster. “C’mere.” He grunts, lifting you and settling you on his lap. “Now sleep.” He orders, reaching for the remote and turning the TV on. You lean against his bare chest, and suddenly you’re so embarrassed you could die, did you just- in your own kitchen? You start to squirm away from him and he anchors you to his chest. “Where the fuck are you going?” He asks angrily.

“Back to my room. To work.” you mumble, your face hot. He shakes his head.

“Why?” He looks annoyed. “I’m comfortable.”

“Bakugou-” He grins.

“Thought we settled on a new title for me princess,” You flush deeper.

“I am not calling you that.”

“How about just when we have sex?” You look at him, shocked.

“W-we are not doing that again!” You protest. “I don’t, Bakugou I don’t even like you.” His smirk only widens.

“Seems like you like me just fine.” You sit up, straddling him on the couch.

“I don’t I don’t like you.” You cross your arms. “You’re a jerk, and a bully, and whatever you can do with,” you gesture to his crotch, “That, doesn’t change that-” he takes you by the wrist and yanks, pulling you back down onto his chest.

“Just shut up, and let’s watch some TV okay?” You look at him, struggling futilely against his arms. “You work too much. Kirishima is worried about you.” You look at him in shock, frozen. “And uh,” he looks away, “I’m a little worried too. So take the night off. It’s already nine.”

“You uh, you’ve been worried? About me?” He rolls his eyes.

“DIdn’t I just fuckin’ say that, are you deaf or somethin’?” He sighs. “‘S’ppose I coulda asked you out or somethin’ but pushing all your buttons about the way you organize your cabinets seemed more…” he looks for the words. “Fun. Plus I knew I’d break ya down.”

“You were gonna ask me, um, ask me out?” Your eyes are wide, you push against his grip again and this time he lets you sit up. He looks away.

“Obviously.”

“Obviously?” You repeat, incredulous. “Obviously?!!!”

“Obviously?” He dramatically mimics you. “Yeah, you’re beautiful, and fuckin’ smart, and ambitious but you’ve got a stick up your ass a mile fuckin’ wide, so let me take care of that shit.” You blink at him, you’re stunned. “Finally, she doesn’t have anything to say.” he taunts you. “Now lay the fuck down and cuddle with me.” In shock, you obey, snuggling into his chest. “Was that so goddamn hard?” You feel something digging into your stomach.

“No, but you are.” You tease and he scowls at you.

“Brat.” he glances over his shoulder, you hear the shower turn off, and the sound of someone stepping on wet tile.

“Bakugou,” You hear him call down the hallway. “Are we gonna play…” He trails off when he sees you, tucked into his friends chest. “Oh.” he looks at the kitchen, observing the jars on the counter that Bakugou had left askew, in favor of cuddling you right away on the couch. “Did you two uh,” Bakugou rolls his eyes.

“Get over here, stupid.” Kirishima goes redder than his hair. “She’s taking the night off.” You sit up a little.

“I am, c’mere.” Kirishima beams at you both, running over and lifting both of you off the couch and into his huge arms.

“Fuck off!” Bakugou snaps, “Put me down.” Kirishima squeezes the two of you together.

“No!” You laugh breathlessly.

“Kiri, Kiri too hard.” He releases you onto the couch where Bakugou grumbles something about how he hates both of you. Kirishima joins you, and you lay with your legs in his lap, and your head in Bakugous.

“Happy Valentines Day!” Kirishima coos, massaging your thigh absentmindedly. You sigh. Bakugou is playing with your hair, detangling it with his fingers, careful not to pull.

“Happy Valentines Day,” you mumble, your eyes closed. “Maybe I could take a few days off, every once and a while.” You can physically feel Bakugou roll his eyes.

“MAYBE?”

“Hey, hey,” Kirishima cautions. “It’s progress.”

foaming at the mouth

HEAR ME OUT ON THIS AU HEAR ME OUT