me staring into my dumbass dogâs giant sweet brown eyes as he tries to eat the hair tie off my wrist: if your head is so big then why are you still so stupid you big dumb boy? huh???
his parents have found the "perfect' woman for him and he refuses to be a part of an arranged marriage like his mother was. (she has this warped sense of the success of her marriage and diminishes the bad years as a rough patch. 'it all worked in the end'. it made natsuo go no contact with her)
so, he tells them he's already engaged.
to his friend's agency manager.
you.
you two are barely friends. but you are freshly out of a relationship which ended horribly. the guy told you that you weren't attractive enough for him and it's destroyed your self confidence, so having a cute pro hero to post on your story and make your dumb ex see you differently? you wouldnt mind that one bit
he comes out to your birthday party, where Mina has taken you out to some loud club. you tell him he doesnt need to be here and he says 'its what boyfriends do". Its 100% not shouto's scene, but he stays without complaint and even dances a bit. his hand finds your waist a couple of times, and he kisses you for a bit too long, too many times-
the next morning you're both hungover for morning brunch and his father is clearly unhappy.
"yumi wouldn't have asked you to do something so stupid-"
they share a couple of mumbled arguments, right out of earshot, but shouto holds your hand the whole way home. it feels like a goodbye
and you think about that drunken night. a lot. how hia hands were so warm and his breath was somehow cold, how he buried his nose into your cheek whenever you made him laugh. it felt real. it felt human.
and you could have sworn it meant something when he brought you home and licked between your legs for hours-
and, of course, you're in tears when you tell him you cant do this anymore.
"I can't keep you from her," you whimper as you wipe away fat tears.
"From who?"
"Yumi! She's so perfect for you. You're going to have a nice, quiet, perfect life with beautiful little babies-"
His mother had gotten very uncomfortable when you said you didn't want kids. His father told you that you'd have to change your mind, since Shouto was the last to carry out the todoroki name after Natsuo took his wife's name-
"I don't want kids." He says it so evenly. "And I don't want quiet."
Shouto goes to touch your arm.
"I'd never been to an art museum before. Or a club," he says. "I had never sprinted through the rain or laughed until it hurt or made out in public. I feel alive when I'm with you, even if it's..."
I started using Head and Shoulders ten years ago for itchy scalp and dandruff, and then for ten years I have not had itchy scalp and dandruff, so I thought âwhy do I still buy shampoo to combat itchy scalp and dandruff when I do not have itchy scalp and dandruff,â so I stopped buying the shampoo for itchy scalp and dandruff and can you guess I have now? Can you predict what currently afflicts me? Itâs alright if you canât because apparently I fuckin couldnât either
Cutting something out of your life because you think you donât need it any more only to realize that it was in fact working as intended and preventing a problem that will return should you stop doing this is a good experiment to run periodically with something small like dandruff shampoo, lest you start to think it would be a good idea to do this with like letâs say public health and the social safety net and vaccines
I had a liver transplant when I was 14 and like six months later I was chatting with my surgeon and he said âthereâs gonna come a time, probably when youâre a teenager, where youâre gonna think, âI feel great, why am I still taking all this medication? I havenât needed it in years.â and youâre gonna want to stop taking all this medication. Guess whatâs gonna happen then? Youâre gonna go into rejection and your liver is gonna start failing, and youâre gonna be dying again, and weâre gonna have to find you another liver. So donât do that.â And I said âwhy the fuck would anyone do that?â and he said âpeople are stupid.â
every once in a while when I get annoyed by a pharmacy or donât wanna get out of bed to do my drugs I think âugh, this is dumb, why do I do this?â and that conversation slams into me like a truck and I remember that I am, in fact, stupid
Katsu has to go on an away mission for a few days right after learning about the pregnancy and he is pacing around the house like "You sure you'll be alright? I'll fuckin' blast home if ya need me. You feel okay? call me when you get home from work. Call me when you go to bed. Call me when you eat dinner."
He calls to say good night to you and the lil sprout every day he's away.
He picks up the phone on the first ring when you call. Even if it's about something silly he will pick up.
You call him because your hormones are making you cry over a roly poly that can't flip itself back over and he's dodging blows from villains with you on the phone weeping in his ear like "Puffs just grab a stick and flip it over... i know baby i know he's sad... just flip---OI YOU SHITTY VILLAIN I'M ON THE PHONE WITH MY WIFE FUCK OFF!"
Bakugou grunting as he lies down in that shitty hotel bed, his thumb jabbing your name on his phone as the call connects. He hears your tired voice on the other line "Katsu?"
He huffs, "Damn, did I wake ya?"
You chuckle softly, "Nah, just lounging on the couch."
He hums as he gets comfortable in bed. "Hmm alright. Put the phone on yer belly. Wanna talk to my baby for a bit."
gojo âwarps into your rooms unannounced just to say hi so that he nearly scares you to death and now youâre chewing him out but itâs fine because he has your undivided attention and if you really hated him dropping by youâd put up wards but you havenât and this is the third time this week so that must mean you love him and he will continue to keep doing itâ satoru
The time when you almost decide to hit him over the head with something heavy is when he shows up in your rooms, clad in only a bath towel around his hips, and throwing open your bedroom door with all the enthusiasm of a wet dog, saying, âYou called?â
And it startles you so bad your book falls from your hands when you yelp. Because you hadnât called, you hadnât texted, you hadnât even shouted for him.
âI didnâtâ!â you start, wresting the comforter off your legs. âI didnât call for you! Get out, Satoru!â
âReally?â he asks, watching you storm toward him. âCouldâve sworn I heard you say âI miss Satoru, I wish he was here.ââ
You hadnât, and at this point heâs making things up as he goes, dripping water onto your wood floors and cocking his head as he pitches his voice to mock your own.
You grab his arm, pulling him after you roughly to get him out of your bedroom.
He makes a wounded sound. âEasy with those claws, they hurt.â
Ignoring him, you drag him to the door, grumbling about his habits and bad manners while he pads behind you. In all reality, he lets you take him to the door; he lets you tug him around and fuss angrily at him. He knows thereâs no real malice behind it.
He justâŠhasnât seen you in a while. Youâve been gone more often, busy with field work and dealing with the schoolâs interrelationships.
You pause in the middle of your sentence, now facing him. On his bare stomach is a moderately long and freshly healed scarâitâs pink and irritated.
Your face twists in an unreadable expression as you throw your hand out. âWhen did that happen? Is that recent?â you ask, your tone sharp.
And thank God you do, because Satoru nearly preens.
Truth be told, he was hoping youâd notice.
âIt happened on my last assignment,â he says. âIt wasnât as bad as youâre probably thinking.â
Youâre still staring at the scar but he wishes youâd look up, at him.
âShoko says that kisses will make it heal faster.â
That gets your attention, your face burning when you catch his eye and find that heâs already watching you.
Like an owner dealing with a bad dog, you open the door and point. âOut.â
thinking about âyou havenât met all the people who will love youâ and like!!! you also havenât found all the things that will make you happy!!!! there will always be new authors and musicians and artists whose work you will one day discover and love!!!! there will always be new hobbies and skills for you to learn and feel fulfilled by!!! there will always be new things around the corner that will bring sudden and unexpected happiness!!!!!!!!!!!
đČđ» đđ”đ¶đ°đ” â° you fake a phone call to jokingly roast your boyfriend satoru, and he reacts so dramatically that he ends up tickling you until you admit he's a ten.
âż ââ) gojo satoru đ gn!reader
đŹđŒđ»đđČđ»đ fluff, established relationship, tickling, satoru being dramatic, lots of kisses, satoru being down bad actually.
the first thing satoru registers is the sound of your voice.
not that itâs unusual â youâre always talking, filling the spaces of the apartment with your running commentary about absolutely everything and nothing. itâs one of satoruâs favorite things about you, actually. the way you narrate your life like itâs a mildly interesting documentary, the way you talk to yourself when you think he canât hear, the way you hum nonsense songs while youâre cooking.
but this⊠yeah, this is different.
satoru is sprawled across the couch, all tall form taking up far more than his fair share of space, one long leg hooked over the armrest while his head dangles off the edge. blood rushes to his brain in a way thatâs probably not healthy, but the ceiling looks interesting from this angle, and his phone is somewhere in the couch cushions, and honestly, heâs really comfortable.
heâs been listening to you move around the kitchen for the last ten minutes â the soft pad of your footsteps, the clink of a mug being set down, the drawer opening and closing.
really, it was quiet and so nice.
ââno, iâm serious. you have to stop being so picky.â
satoru blinks at the ceiling, and his eyebrows pull together slightly. are you talking to him? no â youâre not in the living room yet. youâre still in the kitchen, and your voice has that particular cadence it gets when youâre on the phone; slightly louder than necessary, slightly more animated.
he doesnât think too much of it at first, because, well⊠you talk to your friends all the time.
heâs about to tune it out again, let the familiar rhythm of your voice wash over him like background noise, when he catches the next words and something in his brain snaps to attention.
âlook, iâm just saying. youâre out here looking for prince charming when you should be focusing on, like⊠basic human decency. thatâs the bar. thatâs literally the bar.â
satoruâs head lifts slightly off the couch cushion â just a few inches, just enough to confirm that yes, youâre definitely on the phone, your shoulder pressed against the kitchen doorway, one hand wrapped around your mug while the other holds your phone to your ear.
he lets his head fall back.
okay. fine. itâs just a phone call. nothing weird.
âyou know what my boyfriend always says?â
satoruâs ears perk up, youâre talking about him, and a slow, satisfied smile starts to spread across his face.
oh, this is going to be good.
youâre probably bragging about him â how could you not? heâs so tall, heâs gorgeous, heâs got the kind of jawline that makes people stop mid-sentence just to stare. heâs a catch. really, itâs the total package.
satoru settles back into the couch, ready to soak in the praise thatâs surely about to come his way.
âhe always says that expecting a partner to be both good-looking and emotionally intelligent is like expecting a dog to do your taxes.â
the smile freezes on satoruâs face.
âŠwhat?
he must have heard that wrong. thereâs no way â no, you definitely said something else. something complimentary. something that doesnât compare him to a dog doing taxes.
satoru stays perfectly still, waiting for the correction, for the part where you laugh and go, just kidding, heâs actually the most gorgeous man whoâs ever existed.
but it doesnât come.
instead, you take a sip of your tea â satoru hears it, the little exhale you do when itâs still too hot â and keep going like you didnât just commit a federal offense against his ego.
âmy point is, you need to drastically lower your standards. like, way down. think about what youâre actually qualified for.â
satoruâs eye twitches.
heâs not sure what the hell is happening right now. his brain is trying to process the words coming out of your mouth and failing spectacularly, like a computer trying to run a program it wasnât designed for. lower your standards? youâre telling your friend to lower their standards, while youâre dating him?
satoru slowly sits up properly.
the blood rushes out of his head and he gets a little dizzy, but heâs too focused on the sound of your voice to care. he swings his legs over the edge of the couch and plants his feet on the floor, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, staring at the kitchen doorway like it might spontaneously combust.
youâre still talking. you havenât even noticed heâs moved.
âand honestly itâs so much better that way. like, when you stop caring about looks, you open yourself up to so many more options. you get to actually connect with someone as a person, you know? youâre not distracted by, like, a pretty face.â
satoru makes a sound. itâs not quite a word, itâs more of a really strangled, indignant noise that gets stuck somewhere between his throat and his mouth.
his hand comes up to press against his chest, right over his heart, like heâs checking to make sure itâs still beating after whatever the hell you just said.
pretty face.
you said 'pretty face' like itâs a bad thing, like his face â this face, this objectively perfect, sculpted by the gods, should-be-in-a-museum face â is somehow a distraction.
satoru stands up. heâs not entirely sure when he decided to do that, but suddenly heâs on his feet, moving toward the kitchen doorway with the kind of silent, predatory grace that usually precedes him stealing food off your plate.
youâre leaning against the counter now, mug cradled in both hands, your phone wedged between your ear and your shoulder. you look really comfortable and relaxed. completely unaware that your boyfriend is currently experiencing what can only be described as an existential crisis in the doorway.
âi mean, just look at my boyfriend,â you say, and satoru freezes mid-step.
okay, here it is.
the part where you clarify. the part where you say something like heâs so gorgeous i can barely function or iâm obviously joking, heâs the most attractive person iâve ever seen.
âheâs the perfect example of what iâm talking about.â
satoru waits.
but you donât say anything else for a moment, you simply nod along to whatever your friend is saying, like you didnât just drop the verbal equivalent of the biggest nuclear bomb on his entire sense of self-worth.
heâs the perfect example.
example of what, exactly? of lowered standards? of settling? of not caring about looks?
satoruâs mouth falls open. his hands come up â one presses flat against his chest once again, and the other reaches out like heâs trying to grab your words out of the air and shake them until they make sense.
you finally glance up, and your eyes meet his.
and for a moment, just a split second, he sees it â the tiniest flicker of something in your expression. a micro-expression, a flash of amusement so quick he almost misses it.
but satoru doesnât miss it, and he narrows his eyes.
you look away immediately, bringing your mug to your lips, and he swears he sees the corner of your mouth twitch.
oh.
oh.
youâre fucking with him.
orâno, wait. youâre on the phone, so youâre actually talking to someone⊠but you definitely just looked at him like a cat that knows exactly which vase itâs about to knock off the shelf. that was a look. that was a 'i know exactly what iâm doing and iâm enjoying every second of it' look.
satoru crosses his arms as he leans against the doorframe. he simply decides to wait and see just how deep this hole youâre digging is going to get.
you clear your throat. âanyway, yeah. like, my boyfriend isnât conventionally attractive by any meansââ
satoru actually chokes at your words. his hand flies to his throat like youâve physically struck him.
ââbut heâs got a great personality. well⊠decent. yeah, heâs decent. heâs learning.â
learning. heâs learning. like basic human decency is a skill heâs acquiring. like a toddler learning to share his toys.
satoruâs arms completely drop to his sides, and he takes a step into the kitchen.
âiâm sorry,â he says, and his voice comes out weird â higher than usual, a little strained, like someoneâs squeezing his windpipe. âwhat did you just say?â
you hold up a finger. you hold up a finger, like heâs interrupting something important, and you keep talking into the phone.
âno, sorry, that was just my boyfriend. heâsââ you glance at him, and this time he definitely sees the amusement in your eyes, the barely-suppressed grin fighting to break free. ââheâs doing his thing.â
âmy thing?â satoru repeats.
his voice cracks on the word, and heâs not even embarrassed about it. hell, heâs way too busy being personally victimized by the love of his life.
âwhat thing? what thing am i doing?â
but you ignore him. you turn your back to him, even, which is a bold choice, a very dangerous choice.
âhonestly, the whole experience has been really humbling for me,â you continue, and satoru can hear the smile in your voice now, can hear it getting harder and harder to suppress. âi used to have such high standards, you know? but then i met him and i was like⊠okay. this is fine. maybe this is what i deserve.â
maybe this is what i deserve.
satoru makes a sound thatâs somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and his huge hands come up to frame his face, palms pressed to his cheeks, fingers splayed against his temples.
heâs standing in the middle of the kitchen like a man whoâs just been told his entire life has been a lie.
âmy face,â satoru says, and his voice is genuinely offended now, wounded in a way thatâs so over-the-top it circles back around to sincere. âyouâre talking about my face. this face. this face that has been on a billboard. this face that people pay money to photograph.â
you wave a dismissive hand at him without turning around.
âhmm. yeah, no, heâs really insecure about his looks, actually. itâs kind of sad. i feel bad for him.â
satoruâs mouth opens, closes, and opens again, but literally no sound comes out.
you called him insecure. the most confident man on the planet â the man who looks in the mirror every morning and winks at himself, who has never once doubted his own attractiveness for a single second of his entire life â and you just told your friend heâs insecure about his looks.
âiâm sorry?â he says again, and this time his voice is deadly calm; the kind of calm that comes right before something very dramatic happens. âbaby, i think i need you to repeat that last part. for posterity.â
you finally turn around, and there it is â the grin. it was bright and wicked and absolutely delighted. youâre not even trying to hide it anymore. your phone is still pressed to your ear, but your shoulders are shaking with suppressed laughter, your teeth digging into your bottom lip like thatâs going to do anything to stop the smile taking over your whole face.
âoh, youâre still here?â you ask, and your voice is so fake-innocent itâs practically dripping. âi thought you were back in the living room.â
âyou thoughtââ satoru starts, but youâre already turning away again, bringing the phone back to your mouth.
âsorry, what were we saying? right, right. honestly, the biggest thing iâve learned is that you canât have everything. you have to pick whatâs most important to you. for me, it was having someone who remembers to eat vegetables sometimes.â
satoru stares at the back of your head, and his eye is actually twitching now; he can feel it.
âi eat vegetables,â he says, and his voice has gone up about three octaves. âi ate a carrot yesterday. you saw me. you watched me eat that carrot.â
âand the rest of the time,â you continue smoothly, like he hasnât spoken. âyou just have to accept that youâre not going to be physically attracted to your partner. and thatâs okay! thereâs more to a relationship than sex.â
âmore to aââ satoruâs voice actually breaks.
it cracks right down the middle, like a teenage boy going through puberty, and he has to stop and clear his throat, and even then, when he speaks again, his voice is strangled;
âmore to a relationship than sex? iâm a ten. iâm objectively a ten. iâve been rated. professionally. by people whose entire job is rating faces.â
you simply hum thoughtfully, nodding along to whatever your friend is saying.
âyeah, exactly. thatâs what i mean. like, my boyfriend is a solid three on a good day. maybe a four if the lighting is forgiving.â
something in satoruâs brain snaps.
itâs not a bad snap, itâs not even an angry snap; itâs the snap of a man who has realized, with absolute certainty, that he is being thoroughly and magnificently fucked with, and that his only recourse is to retaliate with equal and opposite force.
satoru moves.
heâs really fast, and before you can even react, heâs right behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you clean off the ground.
you yelp, the sound sharp and surprised, and your phone slips from your grip, clattering onto the counter. but satoru doesnât care about that right now. all he cares about is the way youâre squirming in his arms, laughing already, the sound bubbling out of you like youâve been holding it in for way too long.
âput me down!â you gasp, but youâre laughing too hard for it to be convincing, your hands coming down to grip his arms where theyâre locked around your waist.
âa three,â satoru says, and his voice is right next to your ear, low and mock-serious. âa three. maybe a four on a good day with forgiving lighting?â
âi said what i said!â youâre kicking your legs now, not actually trying to get away â you could get away if you really wanted to, heâs not holding you that tight â but putting up enough of a fight to make this fun. âput me down, toru!â
âno.â
satoru shifts his grip, one arm still around your waist while the other hand finds your side, fingers splaying against the soft spot just below your ribs.
âi think we need to have a conversation about your rating system. i think it might be⊠flawed.â
you freeze.
you know exactly whatâs coming, and satoru can feel it in the way your body goes still against his, the sudden tension in your shoulders, the way your breath catches.
âtoru,â you say, and now thereâs a warning in your voice, almost a pleading. âsatoru, donât you dareââ
satoru tickles you.
your reaction is immediate and violent â you jerk in his arms, a shriek ripping out of your throat thatâs half-laugh, half-scream. your body twists, trying to escape, but heâs got you locked in, his fingers dancing along your ribs, finding every spot he knows will make you absolutely lose your mind.
âwhat was that?â satoru asks, and this brat is grinning now, wide and wicked, watching your face contort with laughter as you try to bat his hands away. âi didnât quite catch that rating. could you repeat it?â
âsto-op!â youâre gasping, tears already forming at the corners of your eyes, your whole body shaking with laughter.
your hands are grabbing at his wrists, his forearms, literally anything you can reach, but heâs stronger than you and he knows exactly what heâs doing.
âsatoruâpleaseâ!â
âa three,â satoru muses, dragging his fingers up to your underarms and delighting in the full-body shudder that ripples through you. âmaybe a four if the lighting is forgiving. those were your exact words, i believe.â
âi was kidding! i was kidding!â
âoh, you were kidding?â satoruâs voice is all false innocence, exactly the same tone you used on him earlier. âso you donât think iâm a three?â
âno! no, youâreâyouâre a ten! youâre a ten, okay, youâre the most beautiful man iâve everââ
satoru changes tactics, spinning you around in his arms so youâre facing him, your back now against the counter.
your face is completely flushed, your hair a mess, tears streaking down your cheeks from laughing so hard, and youâre still giggling, little breathless sounds that escape despite your best efforts to glare at him.
âsay it again,â he demands, and heâs not even pretending to be serious anymore â heâs grinning, the kind of grin that takes up his whole face. âsay it like you mean it.â
you open your mouth â probably to insult him again, satoru can see it in your eyes, the mischief still burning there â but he doesnât give you the chance. he leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, then the corner of your mouth, then the other cheek, then your nose, then your chin. then your forehead again (just for good measure).
youâre laughing still, softer now, your hands coming up to cup satoruâs face, your thumbs brushing against his cheekbones. he gently kisses your eyelids â both of them â and then pulls back just enough to look at you.
âwhat was that rating?â he asks, and his voice has gone soft, the teasing still there but wrapped around something warmer.
you look at him, and your eyes are bright, your smile so wide itâs making your cheeks round, and thereâs something in your expression that makes satoruâs chest feel too full, like his heartâs expanding past the point his ribs can contain.
âa ten,â you say, and your voice is quiet now, sincere in a way that makes his stomach flip. âyouâre a ten, toru.â
he narrows his eyes, suspicious. âyou mean that?â
âi mean that youâre the most annoying person iâve ever met,â you say, and your hands slide from his face to his shoulders, fingers curling into the soft fabric of his shirt. âi mean that youâre really dramatic and ridiculous and you eat an entire bag of marshmallows in one sitting and then wonât stop complain that your stomach hurts.â
satoru waits.
âi also mean,â you continue, and your smile softens, your thumb tracing the collar of his shirt. âthat youâre the most beautiful person iâve ever seen. and i was lying, obviously. you know i was lying.â
âi know,â satoru says, and he does.
he knew from the moment you looked at him with that little smirk of yours, that glint in your pretty eye that said you were up to something.
âi still canât believe you called me insecure about my looks, though. that was cold.â
your laugh is bright and genuine, your head tipping back against the cabinet behind you.
âyour face was so offended. i almost lost it.â
âi was offended! my feelings were hurt!â
âyour feelings,â you repeat, raising an eyebrow. âyour feelings. about your face.â
âmy face is very important to me,â satoru says it with complete seriousness, but heâs leaning into you now, his forehead pressing against yours, his arms still wrapped around your waist. âitâs my best feature.â
âmmh,â your fingers find his hair, carding through the white strands, and satoru makes a sound low in his throat, something content and pleased. âi thought your best feature was your personality.â
âmy personality,â he says flatly. âmy personality that you described as 'decent' and 'learning'.â
âi was setting realistic expectations for my friend.â
ânah, you were slandering me,â satoru noses along your jaw, pressing a soft kiss to the skin just below your ear. âpublicly. in my own kitchen.â
âyour kitchen?â you laugh, tilting your head to give him better access. âitâs my kitchen too.â
âour kitchen,â he amends, and he can feel your pulse under his lips, steady and warm. âyou slandered me in our kitchen, in front of our appliances. the toaster heard everything.â
âoh no,â you say dryly. ânot the toaster.â
âitâs going to be awkward at breakfast tomorrow.â
you laugh again, and he pulls back to completely look at you.
your cheeks are still flushed from laughing, your eyes a little red-rimmed, your hair sticking up in about twelve different directions. youâre wearing satoruâs hoodie â the oversized one that swallows you whole, the one heâs been looking for all week â and thereâs a smudge of something on your chin thatâs probably from the toast you made earlier.
youâre the most beautiful thing heâs ever seen.
âfor the record,â satoru says, and his voice is softer now, the teasing fading into something gentler. âyou are a ten. a twelve, even. maybe a fifteen.â
your eyebrows rise. âfifteen? thatâs a very specific number.â
âiâm a very specific person,â he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. âand i think your rating system is broken, because you somehow ended up with me, and iâm clearlyyy way out of your league.â
you shove at satoruâs chest, but youâre still laughing, and he catches your hands, brings them to his mouth, kissing your knuckles one by one.
âi love you,â you say, and itâs so simple, so matter-of-fact, like youâre telling him the weather. âeven though youâre the most dramatic person iâve ever met.â
âi love you too,â he says, and heâs grinning again, that stupid, lopsided grin that he knows makes you weak. âeven though you publicly humiliated me in front of our kitchen appliances.â
âthe toaster will recover.â
âiâm not sure it will. it witnessed something truly traumatic.â
you roll your eyes, but youâre smiling brightly, and satoru canât resist that smile â he dips down, catches your mouth with his, and kisses you properly.
practicing self care less out of self love and more for the sheer logical reasoning of itâd be kinda stupid of me to expect myself to be able to function without proper maintenance
âoh i donât deserve rest and relaxation, i havenât done enough, i havenât earned itâ and my carâs breaks donât deserve break fluid because they arenât breaking well enough to earn it. thatâs what you sound like!!!!!
DO YOU WANT ME TO GO NOW ('CAUSE BABY I WANT TO STAY) (2.3k)
pairing. k. bakugou x reader
synopsis. when you wake up the next morning after your first time with your boyfriend, youâre immediately confronted with two things: one, what could only be his massive dick pressing stiffly against your ass; and two, the desperate need to run.
(or: in which, no thanks to none other than the great explosion murder god dynamight, flight somehow turns into face)
c.w. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up, established relationship, lots of cussing (it's a bkg fic. what did y'all expect), mentions of food, nsfw/mature themes, hurt/comfort
a/n. hey..... how y'all doin..... popping back in just to post this because the idea simply wouldn't leave me alone until i sat down and resolved to writing it. i don't know if this is any good because i've pretty much stopped writing, but i humbly offer this fic to y'all anyway. fic title from 'sunshine & city lights' by greyson chance because i'm nothing if not a slut for nostalgia
It's the unfamiliar warmth that bewilders you at first.
Your dreams had been vividâas they usually tend to be on the occasional instances that they do occurâtheir pull on your unconscious mind almost magnetic, keeping you just a hair's breadth away from stirring awake.
Normally, your brain would simply give in. Would barely put up a fight, if at all.
But you normally don't feel a foreign kind of heat radiating towards you, either, which is only growing more imposing by the second, alongside a strange weight on your middle that is only now registering.
A tug of war. A beat later, you're coming into consciousness.
Almost immediately, you're made aware of the looming presence behind youâif not from the unmistakable sensation of skin-to-skin contact, then from the unique blend of sandalwood and caramel drifting over your shoulder that is perhaps more subdued than usual, but still notably there.
It's not as palpable, however, as the stiffly prominent pressure against your backside.
As if on cue, memories of the night prior come rushing back, playing in front of you like a film reelâdinner at your favorite restaurant, the tense drive home, the stumbling towards your bedroom. You're just about to reach the point where your back hits the mattress when suddenly, you get the desperate urge to run.
As quickly as you can, you lift Bakugou's arm off of you, carefully inching towards the edge of the bed before finally stuffing a pillow under his muscled limb in your place. He stirs just as you let go of him, and you freeze with bated breath, letting out a relieved albeit low exhale when he eventually stills.
You don't waste another second after that, hurriedly collecting your clothes and underwear off the floor, choosing to clumsily shimmy into them as you walk out of the bedroom and gently close the door behind you.
The instant it clicks into place, a tidal wave of relief washes over you, your racing heart stuttering in reposeâ
âalthough you don't get to bask in it for too long before a particularly nauseating pang of guilt hits you.
You know you shouldn't be acting like this.
You shouldn't be acting as if Bakugou was someone you half-regret finally having had sex with, as if he was someone you needed to get away from, as if he wasn't the one person allowed to see you in this excruciatingly vulnerable state.
And yet.
Shaking your head, you pad your way towards your modest living room, plopping down on the sizeable sofa with a soft thud. You grab the nearest throw pillow you can reach, clutching it close to your chest as you mentally resign yourself to staring out of the sliding doors that lead to the small balcony.
You don't know how much time passes with you wrestling yourself into thinking of anything else but last night and spectacularly failing, but you would've probably ruminated yourself late into the evening if it weren't for a low, rumbling sound a few feet behind you, effectively startling you into attention.
Before you can stop yourself, you whip around and sure enough, a squinting Bakugou is standing in the middle of your apartmentâash-blonde hair unrulier than usual and decked in nothing but one of those flannel pajama pants he liked to keep in your closet for emergencies.
For a solid moment, you only gawk at each otherâyour mouth opening but failing to produce any form of sound. It's you, though, who recovers firstâpromptly breaking eye contact as you jump on your feet, barreling past him towards the kitchen.
"Great, you're up," you croak rather discordantly, reaching for the tap and soap mainly to give your hands something to do. "What do you want for breakfast?"
You can practically hear Bakugou's freshly-woken gears turning in slow motion before he finally responds with a gruff voice. "UhâI'm fine with whatever you wanna eat."
"Okay," you retort as coolly as you can, keeping your back turned towards Bakugou while you go through the overhead cabinets for the ingredients to make waffles.
A tense silence follows shortly afterâstretching for a beatâwhich is why you can't help but flinch when a voice suddenly emerges from right beside you. "How long have you been awake? Here, let me do itâ"
"No, it's okayâ" you quickly interject, lightly shrugging off his reaching hands, keeping your gaze trained on the bowl in yours, "I got it."
Bakugou is quiet for another beat, beforeâfinally: "You sure?"
"I'm pretty sure I can manage at least waffles, Kats," you try to chuckle, although it comes out a bit stilted.
"That's notâ"
"Would you mind setting up the table?" you cut him off once more, nodding to the space behind you, "This won't take too long."
At this point, you know the pro-hero well enough to sense his begrudging without having to look at him, gratitude blooming in your chest when he chooses to relent anyway. "Uhâsure."
No further words are exchanged as you go through the familiar motions of whipping up two servings of waffles, a routine that you would almost consider therapeutic if it weren't for the unsettling feeling of a pair of eyes fixed on your back as you moved around the kitchen.
As you promised, it doesn't take long for the dough to become a mouthwatering golden brown, your movements nearly automatic as you pile on both of your plates with generous portions. You try your best to ignore his unrelenting stare as you trudge towards your small dining table with the food and toppings in tow, making one last trip to fetch the pot of freshly brewed coffee before finally settling in the seat across from him.
To your dismay, Bakugou doesn't immediately dig in like he normally would in the rare instances of you offering him your cooking. Instead, he only continues to stare at you, an inexplicable expression etched on his otherwise impassive features.
Still refusing to meet his gaze, you gesture to his food in a silent invitation to start eating after swallowing your own first bite, but instead of a wordless acquiescence, Bakugouâsternlyâsays your name.
You stiffen for a millisecondâalthough you're quick to regain footingâquietly slicing away albeit with your eyebrows raised as a subtle indication that you're listening.
Unsurprisingly, that doesn't cut it for Bakugou. Still, you feel yourself tensing anyway when he speaks again.
"Babe."
This time, you make a small sound of acknowledgment but keep your eyes downcast, stabbing a piece of waffle with your fork.
The butter-laden pastry is about two-thirds of the way towards your waiting mouth when Bakugou decides he's had enough.
"Look at me."
Instantly, you still.
Then, lowering your utensil-clad hands on the table, you stare at your barely eaten plate of breakfast for a beat, before slowly forcing your gaze upwards to meet the crimsons you've been avoiding this entire morning.
One look at them and you know there's no point in feigning ignorance anymore.
You find yourself schooling your features into an expectant expression anyway.
Althoughâin hindsightâmaybe you shouldn't have, because whatever restraint Bakugou had on his emotions a mere second ago instantly crumbles at the sight of it, leaving him with a scathing scowl and a look that reads a little bit too much like hurt.
Frozen, you scramble for something to say.
Bakugou beats you to it.
"Are you being serious right now?"
You blanch. "I don'tâ"
"You fuck me one second, and the next, you can't even be bothered to look me in the eye?"
Flaming, you sputter. "I-I mean, you fucked me, tooâŠ"
"Exactly," Bakugou spits without missing a beat, face now a prominent scarlet. "And do you see me looking at everywhere else but you?"
"I-I'm just embarrassedâ"
"And you think I'm not?" Bakugou cries, incredulous. "That was the first time anyone has ever seen me like thatâjust as much as it was for youâand it was with you of all people!"
You frown. "What do youâit's just meâ"
"It's because it's you that makes it all the more embarrassing! I swearâ" Bakugou curses, shaking his head. "Jesus."
"I-I'm sorry, Kats. I justâ" you falter, your hammering heart making it impossible to think of what else to say. You force out a shaky breath, letting your gaze fall back to your trembling hands, suddenly feeling utterly defeated.
For a prolonged moment, neither of you says a word.
It's you, though, who somehow dares to speak first.
"I was scared, alright?" you finally manage to say, voice barely above a whisper. "I was scared that once you finally managed to get one good look at me after last night, you'd realize I'm not all that you wanted after all."
You stare down at your hands, letting the silence hang heavily in the air. It doesn't take long for the telltale pinprick of tears to come, with you narrowly blinking them away before they can materialize into something that can embarrass you even further.
You're just about to accept his lack of response as unequivocal confirmation when Bakugou suddenly pipes up, catching you off guard.
"For someone so infuriatingly smart, you sure can be fucking clueless sometimes."
You jerk your head up, stunned. You're by no means trying to be funnyâabsolutely not now of all timesâbut whatever emotion that's palpable on your face must be rather amusing, because the corners of Bakugou's mouth turn upwards ever so slightly, just enough to betray his mirth.
You don't know why, then, but the mere sight of him smiling makes your chest tremor with relief, the profound anxiety from only a moment ago now but a strangely distant memory.
The relief must be evident on your face, because Bakugou's eyes soften when they eventually return to you, something akin to understanding dawning on his features.
Before you can reflexively shrink into yourself, however, he's already shaking his head.
"I can't believe you still need convincing, but I guess that's on me for not being clear enough."
Then, before you can even ask him what he meant, he fixes you with a stare, and suddenly there's nothing left for you to do but listen.
"I want you, you hear me? Always have, always will. And, after last night, I want you even more," Bakugou rasps before quickly looking away, seemingly unable to hold your gaze for far longer.
"Katsâ"
"Didn't even think that was still possible, you know?" he huffs out a laugh, shaking his head once more. You feel your face twitch into a smile, eyes not once leaving his.
"âŠI should've known, though," Bakugou eventually finishes, smiling almost wistfully down onto the table that separates you. "Every single time I've convinced myself that I can't get further down, you've always pulled the rug under me, and I'd end up stumbling even deeper."
Another huffâthis one, a little lighter. "I should've known this wouldn't be any different."
"If it's any consolation," you somehow find yourself responding, catching Bakugou off guard, "It's like that for me, too."
You chuckle to yourself, hoping the embarrassment that you're sure is written all over your face by now isn't too painful to witness, at least. "It scares me sometimesâhow much I love you."
"And I want you, too," you hurriedly add onâgaze still avertedâbefore your sudden burst of courage ultimately runs out. "Just so you know."
"Just as much," you finish quietly, then: "If not more."
"Psh."
You look up, horrified.
But then you see the face that Bakugou makes when he gets weirdly competitive, and you can't help but let out a startled laugh.
He shakes his head in mock offense, not even trying to hide his smile at this point. "You sure you wanna bet me on that?"
You laugh again, reaching for his hand across the table.
He mirrors you, meeting you halfway.
Eventually, the air settles into a comfortable lull.
You look down at your interlocked fingers and smile mournfully. "I really am sorry, Kats."
He squeezes your hand, and somehow that's enough to tell you everything's going to be alright. "Don't be," he replies easily, shooting you one of his boyish smirks. "Although, can we go back to bed now?"
Only then does it dawn on you that, in the course of having been swept into this morning's events, you completely failed to realize that it's way too early for your boyfriend to be awake, let alone be out of bed.
"Of course," you quickly retortâsuddenly feeling guiltyâbut pause when you catch sight of the now forgotten breakfast sitting grimly between the two of you. "Uhâbut can we at least finish eating first? It'd be a shame if these went to wasteâŠ"
Bakugouâwho only seems to remember breakfast at your mentioningâwavers similarly, tossing his cold waffles an icy look before finally plopping back down, picking up his utensils almost petulantly. "Fine, but only because you make the best waffles."
You snort, reaching for the jar of maple syrup. "Now you're just gassing me up."
"âm not," Bakugou grumbles over a mouthful of dough, gulping it down with ease. "'Sides, that's not the only reason why I'm scarfing these down."
"Oh, yeah?" you chuckle, bringing a piece up to your mouth, "What's the other one, then?"
"One word," Bakugou replies without missing a beat.
Thenâreminiscent of the devilâhe grins.
"Stamina."
You choke.
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