Part Two: To Pretend: To Make As If; To Put On An Act.

10:16

Fluff, Bakugou x female reader

“Oh so you are fuckin’ alive.”

You attempted your best impression of his red glare. It was less satisfying when the hulking blonde in your doorway didn’t even try to reciprocate it. You forced the aggression to stay on your features, determined to ignore the way his eyes looked more like Aizawa’s than his own, or the way his hair was still filthy and sticking in more directions than usual, or the way he seemed to be out of breath even though you were only on the second floor. You definitely ignored all of that as you stood your ground, refusing to let him move past you.

“Can I come in…please?”

You huffed and walked away, leaving the door open. You made your way to the kitchen and grabbed a glass, letting the cabinet slam closed as you moved to the fridge. You set the water in front of him as he fell into his usual seat at the counter. He drank it all, wiping his mouth with the back of his gloved hand as he set the cup down so slowly...as if it would shatter.

It was easy to avoid the intensity of his bloodshot eyes. You didn't want to look at him at all, but you couldn't resist the habitual urge to scan his body for injuries. He looked more dirty than injured, covered in rubble dust, dirt, and Todoroki's ash. You noticed a new scar along his shoulder, but no blood marked his form anywhere. You grabbed the glass, turning to refill it.

“Why are you here?” The only sound was the splash of water. You didn't try to fill the silence with anything else. You set the cup in front of him again, pulling your hand from his reach just in time to avoid it.

“I was worried. I came as soon as I landed.”

“Worried? You haven’t talked to me in days.” Something inside twisted at the way his soft drawl didn't match the anger in your tone.

“Yea...because you haven’t picked up your fucking phone in days.”

“What?”

“I kept fuckin’ calling and your shit kept fuckin’ sending me to voicemail.”

You pulled your phone from your pocket, quickly navigating to the call history. “You didn’t call-” Your thumb froze over the blocked voicemails, finding 28 blaringly red notifications. “Oh...shitfuck.” You backed away from the predatory gaze you could sense was locked onto you. Your eyes were still on your phone screen as the chair scraped across the floor. The counter was already pressing against your back. You were out of space and options, so you looked up. Your breath caught at the wild look on his face.

"What's wrong, princess?"

“Okay, so I forgot you said you had to use a burner and my phone was still sort of set to block anything not from a contact…so I-“

“Ya fuckin’ blocked me?” Half a smirk tugged his lips up, but it did nothing to alleviate the intensity of those red eyes.

“I didn’t…not on purpose?”

“That makes it all better, huh?” He was close enough that you could feel the warmth emanating from his palms. Had he used his quirk to get here from the airport? “Because it was an accident?” You gasped at the speed of his movements. You went rigid in surprise for less than a moment. It was too easy to relax against his embrace. He buried his head against your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist so tightly it nearly hurt. “Do you know how hard it was to not fuckin' be here?" His voice got softer with each nuzzle against your skin. "How hard you made it to focus on anything else?" You ran your fingers through his grimy hair. "Thought I lost you, idiot.”

“Hmm, so I’m not a princess anymore.” The huff he gave tickled.

“Princess idiot.”

Masterlist

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been thinking about this for the past half hour.

the comment section is a joke but i got nothing

Tell the moths in my tummy to relocate, please

Synopsis: In which 40° weather grants you insight into Satoru’s powers Word Count: 2.0k

Story Content: Female reader, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Seemingly unrequited pining, Idiots in love but they don’t even know it yet, Slow-burn (doesn’t get anywhere), Crackfic, We learn the many ways in which Satoru can use his technique, Reader POV!

A/N: this is a celcius only household (kidding. but not really.) This has been in my drafts for a reaaaally long time im just glad its out honestly

GOJO SATORU is a frigid blast of cold air during a warm summer day. 

It’s surprising, considering his typical characterisation. People, yourself included, likened him to the sun. Bright and blinding. That’s how the pillar of the Jujutsu world should be, they’d say. He’s the epitome of sorcery. The honored one, they’d praise. 

Just to be clear, you thought of him as the sun for entirely different reasons. Reasons that you weren’t about to go into too detail about. But just as a tiny, small little hint: It had to do with his body temperature. And you were currently being quickly betrayed by what you once thought was fact.

“Am I a portable air-con?”

“Yeah,” you spit at him. Half in betrayal and half in fascination, you huff, gripping his elbows to keep him still as you tuck your body against him, forcing his technique over you with your own. 

The chill settles into your bones and makes you sigh sweetly. It almost makes you forget about how the sun was shining a little too brightly into your eyes. 

In the back of your mind, you can’t help but envy him and his thousand dollar shades. Did he bring a spare? Could you have them? 

Keep reading

What’s your favourite fairly accurate science film

Okay, hear me out:

I’m happy Avery was a bad friend to Max. I’m happy she hurt the people around her.

When I first read TIG, I remember thinking that Avery was *such* a Mary Sue in the first few chapters. For context, this is what Wikipedia says a Mary Sue is: “A Mary Sue is a character archetype in fiction, usually a young woman, who is often portrayed as inexplicably competent across all domains, gifted with unique talents or powers.” I mean, she was the quiet “wallpaper” girl with only one friend who faced hardships and lived out of her car occasionally, yet still did well in school, successfully ran a poker ring, and then befriended + played a homeless man for the privilege of buying him breakfast every day. I thought I would dislike Avery because of this.

But we get to see the actions that drove the Mary Sue impression hurt those around her. She managed to be so successful in school while managing a job, tumultuous family relationships, and a poker ring because she’s stubborn, driven, and focused.

However, her focus nurtured selfishness, as she was only able to focus on her situation, therefore causing that temporary rift between her and Max. Her life situation was dire, but that doesn’t erase the fact that Max had felt like she wasn’t listened to for a length of time. Avery’s explanations for being an inattentive friend are valid, but they don’t excuse it. Although, she did listen to Max in TIG and aspired to be a better/more attentive friend. Despite this, she still forgot about Max’s birthday in THL because she was so focused on Emily’s birthday auction and the family affairs:

“And that was when I realized: ‘Today’s your birthday, too.’

‘Too?’ For a split second, I saw raw emotion behind Max’s eyes” (THL 121).

Similarly, while I won’t be finding quotes for it, Avery acknowledged that she became negligent of Libby as she focused on her new situation, the puzzles, and the boys.

Also, in THL, Avery’s stubbornness and drive hurt Oren. She continues pulling on the Toby thread, eventually leading to the plane bomb incident. Avery says: “Alisa didn’t like the idea of my visiting Hawthorne Island. Oren liked it even less. But there was no stopping me now” (THL 292). Because of this, men *die.* Now, Avery didn’t kill those men, but both her and Oren recognize that it was avoidable:

“His voice got tighter. ‘Two of my men didn’t make it.’

Devastating guilt drilled through me. . .‘I’m sorry.’

Oren didn’t tell me not to be. He didn’t say that if I hadn’t pushed to go to Rockaway Watch, those men would still be alive” (THL 310).

I love that her traits were double-edged, and I love that they were truly bad. So often, the flaws female characters are allowed are negligible— especially regarding consequences and accountability. It’s also notable because JLB said she wrote Avery with the ability to go toe-to-toe with the “magic” Hawthorne brothers; it would have been so convenient to subdue her flaws. Yet, Avery didn’t have traits which existed only as flaws to check a box; she had traits that acted as both assets and liabilities. She successfully managed the adversity dealt to her because of such, but also equally hurt those around her— and for that, I’m happy. I thought she would be a Mary Sue, but her actions in the beginning of TIG are simply one side of the coin. It saved Avery from being an unfortunate archetype, instead transforming her into a dynamic, realistic, understandable, and relatable character.

Extra: people get mad at Jameson because he was so focused on the puzzle in TIG that he hurt Avery— but she did the exact same thing to the few people who cared about her. Let’s not absolve her of and feel guilt only for Avery in order to villainize Jameson and make his mistakes uniquely indicative of his moral failings. Their hunger can be selfish. Let’s recognize that, like Avery, Jameson’s drive and focus are nuanced. In contrast, Alisa and Nash’s drives were unmatched, which led to their downfall—but that’s a whole separate discussion.

Extra extra: ignore any spelling or grammar mistakes. I’m not double checking this because I’m hungry and want to go eat :(. Also, I definitely was swinging like a pendulum between present and past tense as I discussed the story and evidence— ignore this. It’s a bad habit that I always have to pay special attention to while editing papers, but like I said, I’m not rereading this.

messenger [tsukishima kei]

synopsis: you and yamaguchi are best friends with tsukishima. nearly everyday girls come up to the two of you to ask about the blonde and you both have had just enough. little do you know that yamaguchi has a plan of his own to get the chatting to stop...

notes: based off the sole fact that it's canon that girls only go up to yamaguchi to ask him about tsukki, which obviously means he's popular with girls. this was originally written as a stand-alone but i decided to submit it for lexi's @suckerforsugawara first time for everything collab! i apologize for how late this is, writer’s block got the best of me.

warnings: reader is very much in their head, angst at first but eventual fluff with good ending

word count: 4kei

for as smart as tsukishima kei is, he sure is oblivious to how girls flirt with him.

everyday a good number of girls around campus whisper and talk about how they find the blonde middle blocker attractive. about how much a good boyfriend he would make. it amazes you to no end how much the tall and silent type attract people. you could probably end up rich with how much you hear about him, because there's seriously not one day where you don't hear his name.

at first, most of the comments make you laugh. over time though, you begin to roll your eyes and scoff. you don't understand why so many people like him. half the time you see how tsukishima interacts with hinata and kageyama and it isn't in the nicest or most pleasant way. it just looks like a complete circus act. you truly feel sorry for daichi and suga.

tsukishima is just...mean. if you had a boyfriend who treated you like that, you'd dump him on the spot.

but maybe you are a hypocrite because while you think of all these things, you're still friends with him.

...if you can even call it that—you're sure tsukishima just 'tolerates' you. but the fact that you and yamaguchi are the two he spends the most time with obviously means something. he also begrudgingly helps you with your homework and walks you home from class all the time.

it means something...right?

today is no different from many other days as you watch hinata and kageyama get into a heated screaming match about god knows what. tsukishima is on the side snickering to yamaguchi. everyone else is helplessly by standing.

but you, on the other hand, are in your own little world. you're one of the managers for karasuno university's volleyball team. currently, you're filling up water bottles for the team. being in the role as manager, you've become a master at zoning out hinata and kageyama's bickering.

but you did not expect that this skill would one day work against you.

"hinata, kageyama! watch out!" ennoshita shouts, but it's already too late. you feel the unruly force of a volleyball hit you, making you drop the bottles you're filling up and spill water on the ground.

"are you okay?" yamaguchi rushes to help you to your feet, shooting the offending people a small glare. kageyama and hinata shiver at tadashi's gaze and begin to profusely apologize.

"i'm okay, yams. thank you." you dust off your clothes and laugh, "it's nothing i can't help when those two get carried away."

"we are so sorry!" hinata cries, nearly tripping over himself to get to you. kageyama sheepishly let's out a 'sorry' before his face flushes a bright red.

you open your mouth to assure them you're fine, but a certain voice beats you to it.

"are you two that incompetent that you'll take out our manager in the middle of one of your childish games?" the voice hisses. "i knew the two of you were stupid, but you both surprise me every day. i have to start lowering my bar more."

you don't have to turn to know who it is.

tsukishima turns to you, a displeased look on his face. if you squint, you can see his concern. "and you really need to work on watching your surroundings. i'd rather not have to take you to the hospital." he scolds, picking up the bottles from the ground. he swats your hand away when you reach out for them and you puff out your cheeks, frustrated.

he always does this, where you can't tell if he cares for you, or if he's just being mean. maybe you’re reading into things too closely.

you watch his eyes scan your figure intently and you flinch when you feel him touch you. your breath hitches at how close he is, close enough to see the specks of gold in his eyes from behind the lenses of his sports googles.

his hand gently turns your face to either side, "are you hurt anywhere?"

at the feeling of his hand on your arm, you feel it burn at the source of his touch.  you quickly recover and answer that you're fine. he studies your face for a moment longer to detect if you're lying but doesn't prod for any more answers.

not too far away does yamaguchi note the gesture between you two, but doesn't say anything.

the rest of practice runs by smoothly and you have practically forgotten that you were hit with a volleyball. before you know it, it's over and everyone calls it a day before filing out to the lock room.

tsukishima announces that he has to go somewhere after practice and for you and yamaguchi to not wait up for him. neither of you question him on his whereabouts because chances are he won't even tell you anyways.

as punishment for hitting you with the volleyball, kageyama and hinata are responsible for cleaning up the gym and locking up, which gives you the advantage of getting home early. down to two, you and yamaguchi start your trek home, the convo floating between school, volleyball, and other interests.

"yamaguchi-san?"

the two of you turn at the sound of a girl. she looks anxious and nervous and holds a pink envelope in her hands.

"hi! what can i do for you?" he smiles, green eyes bright and inviting.

the girl seems to gain confidence at yamaguchi's smile. "i have this confession for tsukishima-kun...but i don't know how to give it to him, so i was wondering if you would give it to him for me?" the girl explains shyly. her eyes shift to you and widen. "you're not dating tsukishima-san are you?"

your eyes widen at the accusation and you bust out a laugh, hard. maybe too hard.

"me? date him? i could never!"

after your embarrassing and short-lived laughing party, yamaguchi reluctantly agrees to take the letter to give to tsukishima. a strange feeling wells up in your chest at the sight, and you don't know why you felt disappointed in him doing so.

as soon as the girl leaves, you see yamaguchi's shoulders sag and his smile fades. 

"what's wrong, yams?" you nudge your best friend in the side, noting the way he picks at the skin on his hand anxiously.

"nothing," he answers, "we need to get going now."

you pull him back. "it's not 'nothing'. come on, what is it?"

you watch as he takes a moment to gather his thoughts before he replies, "i appreciate and care about tsukki and all, but it really sucks that girls only talk to me about him." he pouts, puffing out his cheeks.

"it's probably because you're much more approachable than mr. blonde beanpole." you suggest, shrugging your shoulders. "frankly, I don't know why or what people see in him. he's not very people-friendly. plus he always walks around with a scowl on his face. but i too wish they would stop asking us about him. what did suckyshima do to get so many confessions all the time..."

your freckled faced friend raises his brows, amused by your passionate rambling. "are you jealous?" he asks, head tilting in inquiry.

"w-what? no! why would i be?" you scoff, feeling your heart race in your chest. "the only thing i'm jealous of is that beanpole blonde's attention." you say. "i would very much like to be confessed to as often as he gets!"

"you would hate it," yamaguchi chuckles, "you don't even like getting attention. especially from guys."

you click your tongue, not knowing how to disagree with him. "maybe, but it wouldn't hurt to have it happen once in a while, you know?" you sigh, "i can't go my entire life without experiencing a confession!"

you must've had a terrible past life to have such an unlucky dating experience. you've never had a guy ask you out. and while you don't like to be arrogant you consider yourself cute and a decent person—more so decent than glasses-kun.

"well, more guys would approach you if it wasn't for tsukki." yamaguchi says, and immediately upon speaking covers his mouth.

you raise a brow at your friend, "eh? what do you mean by that?"

before he can answer, you huff, "you're telling me blondie is messing up my love life? what does he gain from doing that?" you huff, feeling irritated that the number of cute boys you could've encountered is very little due to the fact that they were being cockblocked by the most annoying person on the planet.

yamaguchi would never tell you, and god bless your soul, but he's forever thankful for how oblivious you are at times. his skin is saved from having to explain to tsukishima why his crush on you has been outed.

but on the other hand, he desperately wants these confession shenanigans to be over with and for the two of you to confess to each other. to him, it's painfully obvious that there are shared feelings but neither one of you want to acknowledge the fact that there's something going on. he'd rather take the risk of tsukishima biting his head off if it means you two will end up together.

"let's just say that the two of you complain about each other too much for there not to be something going on between you two." yamaguchi says. "i just wish you'd both make out with each other or something."

panic swarms you, at the meer thought of locking lips with blondie. "tadashi, i would never be caught kissing him. i'd rather be dead." you say sternly, although an itch in your throat tells you otherwise.

"yeah, i totally got the vibe of that earlier when he came over to see if you were okay." he laughs, rolling his eyes.

"it didn't mean anything, he was just oddly nice..." you argue, the rapid beating of your heart mocking you.

the sudden silence could be cut through with a knife as you two walk. your knuckles grip your bag tightly as you focus on your feet in front of you.

"your crush never went away, right?" yamaguchi stops walking and looks at you intently.

when you don't respond, he knows his answer.

"that's another reason why i don't like getting these confessions. i don't want to see you get hurt by all of this." he reveals, his hand gripping the pink envelope he was given earlier.

"it doesn't matter, though. what i feel is irrelevant.” you shrug.

yamaguchi perks up, a light bulb going off. he presses the envelope to your hands. "you give this to him. you can find out what he says about the letter and how it makes him feel. he might act differently. that way, you can also decide if those feelings for him are still there, or if you've moved on. if you haven’t, then confess."

you turn away, not taking the envelope. your feet then move briskly. "what makes you think that he would accept my confession? there's no way he would."

"what's stopping you?" he presses, following you. "you don't know that unless you try."

a sharp exhale of air escapes you, your nerves taking your own words out of your mouth. "because i don't want to make a relationship awkward possibly. besides, he'll just make fun of me for having a crush on him and then reject me. so no way is tsukki going to accept it."

"he wouldn't do that. and you know he wouldn't. look, we both know tsukki better than anyone else does. i'm surprised at how blind you are to how he feels about you. or maybe you're denying it?"

before you can reply, you realize you've reached your apartment.

"just think about telling him? it'll ease your mind somehow, won't it? at least you'll have your answer and you can stop letting this eat at you the way it has for years." yamaguchi says, concern written on his face.

you sigh. "sure, tadashi. i'll think about it."

you don't get a wink of sleep that night. and despite you wanting more time to think, you are meeting up with tsukishima and yamaguchi to hangout the next day. so even if you want to put off your thoughts about the situation, you can't.

"you look like shit," tsukishima says once you sit down at the cafe the three of you always meet up at. "like a zombie with the life is sucked out of them.”

“wow, how did you guess?” you say, response dripping with sarcasm.

a guilty look appears on his face before he changes it to a softer expression. "here, i already ordered for you." he says, pushing your favorite order across the counter.

"oh, thank you. you didn't have to." you reach into your bag to pay him back, but he pushes your hand away, a grimace on his face.

"yeah, well i did anyways." he says, turning away. a faint hue of pink can be seen across his cheeks. “you should really try not to over exert yourself. we can’t afford to have our manager collapsing.”

you stare at the drink, mind rambling. “right…”

tsukishima distracts himself with the time, noticing how late yamaguchi is. it isn’t like him to be late. once the male checks his phone, everything clicks into place.

"tadashi says he won't be able to make it to the movies." tsukishima tells you, slipping his phone back in his pocket.

"really?" you go to pull your own phone out of your bag to check, but something else catches your eyes first.

the pink envelope.

you gasp, gritting your teeth. "tadashi, you bastard..." you hiss, wondering when he slipped it into your bag.

"yeah, something about feeling sick..." the tall man's eyes slide down to look at you, and as attentive as he is he asks, "what are you grumbling about?"

you eyes glance between him and the letter, panic washes over you as you try to improvise a lie.

tsukishima leans over, peering into your bag. “what is that?” he asks.

solemnly, you hand him the pink envelope. cotton has lodged itself in your throat but you manage. "this...this is for you."

“from?” he questions, but he already knows it’s not you. you don’t dot your i’s like that.

“the usual. some girl with a crush on you.” you answer, “she didn’t know how to give it you directly.”

opening the letter, his brown eyes scan the contents carefully, silence overcoming him as he drinks in each word.

meanwhile, your heart races rapidly. you can feel yourself beginning to spiral in your mind, thinking of all the possibilities of what could happen next after he finishes reading the letter. instead of hearing anything, the blonde simply puts the letter back in the envelope.

“let’s go.” he says, standing up to leave.

wait...that's it? you watch him leave the cafe and scramble after him, confusion trailing you.

when you catch up to tsukishima, your eyes glance at him, trying to gauge anything. something.

"well?" you ask, brow arching up.

"'well' what?" he replies, staring at you expressionless.

"are you...going to accept?" you prod, leg bouncing.

the man seems to contemplate your question, not answering for a moment. the anticipation is killing you. swallowing you whole. you have to say something before you’re buried alive.

"don't accept that confession." you blurt.

"huh?" the blonde slips the envelope in his pocket. "and why not?"

you shift uncomfortably in your spot. "b-because."

"'b-because', isn't an answer. i hope you're aware." he mocks before stepping closing to you, a sly smirk on his face. "why do you look like you're about to throw up? is the thought of me getting a confession that repulsive to you?"

"shut up!" you hiss, the burning in your cheeks spreading like wildfire now. "i never said that."

"you didn't have to. your face said everything that i needed to know." he replies, "why are you so eager to know anyways?"

you shrug, "i mean, we're friends right? why wouldn't i be curious?"

a soft chuckle leaves him. it's pretty, and pretty looks very good on him. how annoying for your nerves. "right, and let's say i do accept the confession. what would you do then?"

you blink, your hands clammy, body scorching at this point. "dunno, maybe throw a party with a sign that says 'congrats kei, you're lovable after all'."

"you're a horrible liar, you know. it's very annoying." tsukishima scowls, grabbing your wrist and turning you to look at him.

"who said i was going to accept the confession?" he tilts his head to the side, leaning in slightly. "hmm? i think you put that idea in that pretty head of yours all by yourself."

you huff, irritated by his teasing manner."it's not funny to joke like that."

he blinks. "when did i make a joke?"

"you always do...i don't understand you, tsukishima." at this point you can feel your face burning up. you look away from the blonde, frustrated and also internally panicking. when you go to walk away, his large hand catches your wrist, pulling you back.

"so now we're back to tsukishima?" he asks, distaste in his tone.

you bite your lip, too scared to say anything.

he clicks his tongue. "listen, i didn't have to read the letter to know my answer. i didn't even need to receive one. i've already had my mind made up."

a soft 'oh' leaves your mouth. "is that right?"

"yes, because i already have feelings for someone." he confesses, and your heart nearly stops.

you weren't expecting this at all. you bargained for more than you wanted, but it’s your fault and your fault alone. you start to yell in your head about how wrong yamaguchi is, about how you're too late to confess now, because someone else has already stolen—

"this is for you." tsukishima hands a eerily similar pink envelope to you with a small plushie. your eyes widen as you look at the plush, recognizing that it's your favorite animal. you remember talking about how you still sleep with stuffed animals and made the mistake of having tsukishima overhear you. the teasing that day never ended.

when squeezing the plush to you, you're surprised to hear it play your favorite song. reading the letter, you recognize the handwriting as his immediately. you're familiar with how he loops his y's and g's. you recognize the eloquence in his words. but you feel alien reading how he pours his emotions—about you—into words. words that are a lot kinder and sweeter than his usual moments.

"why would i joke about my feelings?" he answers, pulling at his hands, fingers fidgeting. "if you don't reciprocate them—"

"no! i-i mean, yes! yes, i do!" your face is on fire at this point. "i'm just shocked, i-i wasn't expecting—"

"for someone to be into someone like you?" he finishes.

you blink, stunned by his response. "well, yeah."

and tsukishima kei does what tsukishima kei does best.

he flicks your forehead.

he rubs the spot where he flicked your forehead and his gaze becomes soft as he stares at you, his large hands not pulling back from how it gently cradles your face.

"i've been into your annoying ass since you yelled at those bullies for picking on tadashi." he mumbles, a fond look in his eyes.

your eyes look over him rapidly. "i don't get it. how? why?"

he pinches your cheek, rolling his eyes. "you keep saying that and it's really annoying." he continues, "it's simple. you're...you're a much better person than i am. you're smart...and funny. and you understand me even when my words don't always say what i mean. you've pushed me to be a better person." he tries to make himself smaller, wanting to escape his vulnerability, but it's hard when you're a walking lamppost.

"i can't stand the sight of other guys looking at you. at thinking they have a chance with you. call me a hypocrite because i know i'm the last person who deserves a chance with you, but—" he cuts himself off, fiddling his his hands.

"but what, kei?" you push, heart pounding.

"but i want one anyways. i've never felt like this with anyone before and i don't want to stop now. i...i'm willing to take the chance to ask to go out with you...even if i know you deserve better than me." he explains, head bowing low.

this time, you reach up and flick his forehead.

"ow? what the hell, dumbass?" he scowls.

"it's annoying when you do that, too," you say, teasing, "you always undermine how brilliant you are and it has to stop. you may be an asshole, but you're also perceptive, and caring, even if you don't really know how to show it in conventional ways."

he doesn't say anything because he knows you're right.

you speak again. "for the record, i think that you're pretty amazing. and a lot of other people think so too. learn to give yourself more credit, kei."

"i can say the same about you." he says, brushing hair back from your face. his eyes shift down to your lips before looking away just as quickly. his single strand of vulnerability left snaps.

"c-can i kiss you?" he stutters, and you're shocked to see the snarky blonde asshole you know in such a shy state.

"yes," you breathe, "please."

he can’t resist when you ask so nicely and look so pretty right in front of him.

and what you learn is that kei's kisses are sweeter than any words that can come out of his smart mouth. how that is possible, you don't know. but you surely don't mind at all.

he tugs you close to his body, his scent overtaking your senses. he smells like mint and whatever cologne he put on today and it's easily your new favorite aroma.

you pull away and can't help but note how pretty kei looks after kissing. hair disheveled, swollen lips, glossy eyes, and glasses nearly falling off his face. you quietly laugh and push the frames back up his face.

"i love you, you know." you say, holding his face.

he leans into you, kissing your palm as he reciprocates the words in a quiet voice. a quirk in his lips and he adds, "i would hope you do. i don't want to be seen having to return to build-a-bear for a second time to return a bear."

you grin, holding up the bear teasingly. "this plush?"

"oni-chan said i should give you something...that you'd appreciate. it's yours as long as you don't replace me with it." he answers, red creeping up his neck. "if you do, i'll return it."

"don't worry, kei. i promise not to replace you with a stuffed animal when i need cuddles." you latch onto his arm, clinging to him easily. he tugs you impossibly closer.

sending yamaguchi a text thank you and a picture of you with your new bear—now named tadashi—with an annoyed tsukishima holding you tight in the photo. 'new family photo! you were right!'.

yamaguchi only grins at the message, laying back on his bed as he smiles. his work as cupid is over. he'd figure out the third wheeling issue later.

for now, mission accomplished.

do not copy and or repost. likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated though! (c) 2022 hyeque

bakugou having a bad day at work and coming home annoyed, tense and snappy. you know he’s mad, you feel it when he comes through the door. not only in the air but the way he stomps on the ground and the loud clash when he drops his bag. so for these first few seconds you have a chance to prepare yourself for what you’re about to witness.

you see the back of his fluffy blonde head as he slumps into your living room sofa and lets out the loudest huff. so you step over and sit in the arm chair diagonally opposite to him.

“hey,”

“hi,” he spits, staring at the blank screen of the tv. his arms on the arm rest, his head resting in his palm. every few seconds his jaw clenches then he lets it go.

“so do you wanna talk about it?” you prod lightly, voice light like usual so he knows you’re not about to judge him.

he tuts, frowning and still not looking at you, “no.”

“you sure?”

“yes i’m fuckin’ sure.”

he knows he’s being disrespectful and stupid as soon as the words leave his mouth. the silence is thick between yoi so he robotically turns to face you with a hard glare in defence. but it melts upon seeing your face of indifference. fuck, he needs to do better.

when you lock eyes, your voice is steady but cold, “watch who you’re talking to.”

bakugou’s whole demeanour weakens, his body tensing with the heat of your words. suddenly what happened at work doesn’t matter at all now, not when you’re just as annoyed at him.

another silence hovers over the room so you get up to make your way to your bedroom. “you can leave or stay. i don’t care.”

bakugou grabs your hand before you’re too far, mumbling a quiet, “let’s cuddle.”

you blink at him like he’s dumb, “apologise. decide whether your gonna forget about your issue or talk about it.”

he doesn’t let go of you as he makes the decision on the spot, his hand on your arm sliding down to link your fingers together.

“i’m a piece of shit for talkin’ to you like that. i’m sorry.” you nod, still waiting for the next part, “i’m gonna forget and maybe talk about it later.” he flicks his eyes up to you, not forgetting how harsh your tone was, “if you wanna hear it.”

you’re a fool for your boyfriend, especially with how his eyes turn doe-like when you look down at him. red rubies asking for your forgiveness and a cuddle. he even slides a palm between your legs to rest on your inner thigh, ready to pull you on top of him. you don’t want to say no so you don’t.

“of course, i’ll listen to you. you’re such a bitch when you’re grumpy,” playfulness tinges your words, a slow smile slipping through to your cheeks. bakugou matches your smile, dragging you onto his lap for a cuddle.

you stuff your face in his neck for an inhale of his sweetness and your arms wrap around his strong body. he does the same to you, thumb rubbing your bare hip.

“thought that was one of your favourite things about me,” he drawls sarcastically and you giggle. bakugou sighs mentally at how he started the night with you. he could have came in, been honest about what he felt and had this earlier.

“that and how when i’m annoyed at you, you still have the confidence to ask for a cuddle.”

“confidence well deserved ‘cause look at us now,” he laughs but stops when you lift your head up to glare at him.

“i’ll leave right now,” you threaten.

“no, you’re not,” he says, his arms tightening around you with a peck to your forehead.

When cool people follow you so now youre mutuals and you’re trying to act cool like

I mean yeah he’s evil and all but what if I were his favourite