need a deeply emotional friendship with tamsy where he’s like your best friend for everything to the point where you see him as one of the “girls”- and you two get along great! but there is an ominous clock counting down to the day he’s gonna shove his tongue down your throat and turn this very messy very fast.
he’s not pulling off a nice guy act!!! he genuinely cares about you. you can confide in him and ask him for advice or just gossip, go shopping or to a cafe together. he lets you play with his hair all the time and you sleepover at each other’s rooms most nights.
but tamsy will be watching you sleeping right next to him and think- wow. you really trust him this much huh? he can spoon you right now, press his hips into your ass and wedged a hand between your legs, and you’re just gonna sleep soundlessly. probably even cuddle up to him. ooooh no other man is going to have you ever
need a deeply emotional friendship with tamsy where he’s like your best friend for everything to the point where you see him as one of the “girls”- and you two get along great! but there is an ominous clock counting down to the day he’s gonna shove his tongue down your throat and turn this very messy very fast.
finally reading the fma manga and ed is the protagonist of all time. he’s the softest lil guy. he’s a rabid raccoon. he is the scourge of the military. everyone wants to adopt him. he’s a pacifist. he bites. he gets giddily happy at the birth of a child. his speech is punctuated with sarcastic hearts. he’s a generational talent. he will walk directly into a trap eyes open head empty. he is a foul mouthed little rat. he makes friends everywhere he goes. he’ll dig up any grave and turn over any stone and kick anyone’s ass to get his brother back. he refuses to believe his brother cares about him the same way. he makes this face:
(cw: mentions of wounds, mentions of pregnancy and having babies, reader wants bakugou badd)
you and pro hero bakugou tend to treat each other’s wounds after missions. you’re both a little stubborn when it comes to hospitals, only because the waiting and laying around to recover leaves you itching to leave.
so after getting thrown around in battle, you get the minimal treatment from the paramedics on scene (that did not let you leave without at least a check up, much to bakugou’s annoyance) and limp the rest of the way back to the agency.
it’s the middle of the night when you make it to the in-house infirmary. almost everyone else has gone home by this time so it saves you from too many eyes watching your walk of shame down the corridor. the janitor’s stare has already shifted from concern to indifference when you both hobble by and wave sluggishly.
you’re the first to plop down on the bed with a groan while bakugou rummages through cabinets. everywhere hurts, probably already blooming some nasty bruises on the surface of your skin. there’s a cut down your arm (bandages up by the ever dedicated and persistent paramedics) and your vision throbs at the bright white light of the room.
“bring me some ibuprofen while you’re there. the whole tablet- my head is killing me.”
“you’re just gonna shit yourself to death.” bakugou scoffs, nudging the freezer door closed with his foot and wincing as he moves. he hands you an ice pack and places the rest of the medical supplies besides you. “gimme some space.”
you spread your legs apart for bakugou to slot himself in the middle. he’s a big guy, the spread is wide to accommodate him and very much erotic. you eye him closely for a reaction but bakugou is strictly focused on cutting strips of clean gauze.
“do you think the public would understand if i retired early?” you continue, squinting at the cold of the ice pack you press to your leg, “i was thinking of buying a house on the country side. grow some vegetables, raise some chickens, away from all this madness…”
Bakugou snorts. “you wouldn’t last two days before beating up the local thug. or turning into the local thug.”
“i’d be an upstanding citizen!”
“you’d be a fucking nutcase. arm.” he beckons and you stretch it out into his palm. suit is torn in that area, a bunch of smaller cuts littered around your forearm. Bakugou starts cleaning and remains steadfast when you squeeze your legs around him, hissing at the sting of the disinfectant.
“c’mon, doesn’t that sound like a good way to retire? i’d be a pretty little country girl in long flowy dresses.” you give him a seedy smile. “and who knows, maybe i’d let a cute farmer knock me up and have his fat little babies.”
At that, Bakugou’s face scrunches up in disgust. “i’m starting to think your brain is splattered on the side of a building somewhere. you’ve been spouting bullshit since we left.” he wraps up your arm and moves to the cut on your other leg. “fucking farmers and babies… who’d have babies with you.”
you squint at him knowingly. “i could name a few people.”
he just rolls his eyes, muttering something about an unlucky bastard.
“okay then what about you? what are your retirement plans since mine are so crazy.”
“oh my god, leave me alone, woman.” Bakugou shoulders sag as he groans. “i’m tired and i wanna get the fuck out of here. just let me treat your wounds in peace so you don’t die on your way home. your retirement talk is giving me a headache.”
“don’t tell me you plan on spending the rest of your life getting thrashed around?”
at that, bakugou sneers up at you- wide and mean and attractive. “i’ll be the one doing the thrashing.”
you figured even before he answered. regardless of what fans and tabloids and popularity polls say, bakugou thrived best when he was out fighting villains every other day. he never did it for fame. sometimes, you even think that he was made for the pro hero life, with all its dangers and risks and violence.
then you see sides of him like this one, tending your wounds carefully as if to not hurt you even more. he does it so surely now that it’s kinda funny to think back to the first time he helped fix you up- awkward and stiff and not knowing where to look or touch when you lifted your top up for a better look at the gashes across your sternum.
you place your ice pack to his temple, half melted but still cold enough, where a bruise was already swelling a deep purple on his temple. Bakugou flinches at the contact at first, caught off guard. he shoots a glare up at you, ready to snip at you for being a menace when he’s already so exhausted.
“will you at least visit me in the country side when i retire?” you ask, a tilt of hope in your voice.
He softens up a little, leaning into the melted ice pack, pretending to think of an answer.
“maybe. if i have time. if you’re not far.”
“you’ll have to come to meet my babies.” your free arm curves, wraps around his shoulders in a way that has you leaning in and clinging. his eyes are ruby red at this distance and your noses don’t touch, by a mere inch. “i’ll name one of them after you.”
“the fattest one?” he raises a brow, snarky because of calling him fat in his baby pictures that one time.
“the one that looks like you.” you say it like it’s a secret, playing with the wisps of hair on the nape of his neck.
you smile wide when Bakugou gulps. you think you can feel him heating up right then and there.
“i don’t think farm boy would like that.”
you simple chuckle with a roll of your eyes. then, you pull him closer to lay your head on his shoulder. he lets pull him in, even as his spine stands straight as an arrow, and the contradiction in his body language makes you smile on his shoulder, hugging him.
“i was kidding. i won’t marry a farmer. i like tough city boys better.”
all bakugou does is hum, the tension in him fading as his own arms wrap around you waist- still as careful to not press on any bruises, but the snug warmth of him is welcomed anyway.
the exhaustion of the day finally catches up to you and you nearly fall asleep to the sensation of bakugou’s palm sliding up your back, until he’s cupping the back of your head, fingers past your hair and on your scalp.
“why is your head-“
bakugou pulls his hand away to find it coated with blood.
“what the fuck, you’re bleeding!”
your brows pinch together, eyes already closed and too tired back up. you wrap your arms tight as bakugo tries to push you off of him. “relaaax, it stopped bleeding awhile ago. everything’s fine.”
“no it’s not fucking fine! no wonder you were talking nonsense!” he gives up on forcing you off and instead wraps an arm around your waist and lifts. you squeak, legs locking behind bakugou’s lower back so you neither slide off nor dangle awkwardly.
“where are you going?” you look over as he gathers both your stuff and makes his way out of the infirmary.
“the hospital, dumbass. if you have a concussion right now i fuckinh swear-“
“i said i’m fine! just take me home-” you whine. “they’ll put me on bed rest!”
“serves you right! you were just gonna roll over and die in your house. fucking unbelievable-“
bakugou continues to chastise you the rest of the way out of the agency, occasionally pinching at you anytime you seem to doze off. for a guy that usually hated going to the hospital himself, he was very adamant in taking you there. according to him, he’ll only allow you to retire early from work, not life entirely- plus, he doesn’t want the babies to have brain damage.
