They Accidentally Confess To You Over Text

@sunasbabie — for last year’s bday, christmas, and new years gift bcs ily or whatever 🙄

suna used to have a really nice denim jacket.

it was made of black denim, bought from some american brand that cost him way more than he’d care to admit. he loved that jacket— he’d worn it over t-shirts in the summer and thick hoodies in the winter. he’d been wearing it on the day of onigiri miya’s grand opening and the day he’d signed with ejp.

he’d also happened to be wearing it the night he met you.

he remembers seeing you the night of atsumu’s new year’s eve party. remembers thinking that your dress was highly impractical because it was sequined and backless but damn— you looked good.

and no matter what osamu thinks he remembers, it did not take him so long to talk to you because he was feeling shy. he was just giving the other guys at the party a chance, is all. he’s nice like that.

atsumu, the drunken idiot that he was, had ended up dragging everyone up onto the roof of his apartment for the countdown. and you, idiot that you were, started shivering 15 seconds into the count, suna watching as you’d rubbed your arms for warmth and and suddenly turned to face, as if you’d felt him watching.

with 30 seconds to midnight and a shove from osamu, he’s closing the distance between you both to say hi. you have his jacket draped over your shoulders by midnight. just because he’s nice like that, not because he’s silently marking his territory and telling potential suitors to fuck off.

he even lets you leave with it, but not before exchanging numbers so you can return it as soon as possible. which you do, showing up at his place the next afternoon, his jacket washed and folded neatly in your arms, offering to buy him lunch as a thanks.

you’re the one wearing it, four months later, when he asks you to be his girlfriend. because ‘it’s just so windy out, rin. you don’t want my dress flying up, right?’

on cooler days, he’s almost sure you forego your own jacket just so you can steal his, and he lets you. you wear it draped over your shoulders when you walk back to his place after a movie. you use it as a blanket during longer car rides. there’s this fatal bug in suna’s system, and it doesn’t let him tell you ‘no.’

you’re wearing it the day you move in. he wasn’t going to make you unpack all your clothes just to find a jacket to wear to lunch.

you’d spent three years stealing that jacket. the denim is soft and well-worn, with a tear or two in the hem, but you love it. and he loves that it still smells like your perfume on the odd day he gets to wear it himself.

maybe that’s why it hurt so much, watching you brush your fingers over it as you pack away your clothes. you’d left every every t-shirt of his you’d slept in, every hoodie you’d claimed, in what was now his closet again.

but for this, you hesitate. a dull ache throbs between his ribs as he watches you hug the fabric to your chest, eyes fluttering shut.

“just take it,” he’d told you quietly from the doorway. “i don’t want it anymore.”

suna used to have a really nice denim jacket.

_____

it’s almost six months later when you call him for the first time since the breakup.

suna has to do a double take when he sees your contact. mostly because three in the morning and no one should be awake at this hour, but also because he can’t believe it’s you.

his brain and his heart are at a crossroads. he shouldn’t answer. you probably hit the wrong contact. you have other friends in the city, surely you would call one of them if you needed something.

but there’s that flaw again, and suna hits accept.

“hello?”

“rin? rin! hi.”

he sits up in the darkness at the sound of your slurring. “are you drunk?”

“no,” you lie, even hiccuping a little. “i just…i really just wanted to tell you—”

you cut yourself short, sighing. “that you did really good during your game last week.”

he raises his brows slightly, chuckling. “you were watching?”

“no,” you say again, much too quickly. “i just…heard.”

“i know what you sound like when you’re lying,” he reminds you, sliding out of bed and pulling on a hoodie. “and i also know what you sound like when you’re drunk. stay where you are, i’m gonna pick you up.”

you send him your location right away, and he drives over. he calls you to let you know he’s there, because he’s sure you’re not gonna hear your text tone, and when you step out of the bar—

he sees that you’re wearing his jacket.

that damn black denim jacket, american label and all. it hangs off your shoulders loosely, and when suna gets out of the car, he grabs the collar, pulling you closer and pretending not to notice the way you inhale sharply. ignoring your wide-eyed stare as he adjusts the jacket, doing up the buttons because he knows you’re gonna complain about the night chill.

“c’mon,” he says, pulling open the passenger door. “get inside, dumbass.”

the cute pout that downturns your lips is just like suna remembers. he closes the door after you, rounding to the other side of the car.

“did you tell your friends you’re getting home safe?” he asks as he reaches across you to put on your belt. “how come none of them came to get you?”

“oh, uh, yeah i called them but they weren’t answering,” you tell him. “i’ll call them now, just in case.”

suna watches as you fumble with your phone, tapping back and forth through the phone app until he grabs it from your hands with a sigh. he has no idea which one of your friends you’d called, so he goes to your recents.

only to see that he’s the only one you’d called tonight.

If you see this on your dashboard, reblog this, NO MATTER WHAT and all your dreams and wishes will come true.

since bakugou got his three roommates sero, kirishima and kaminari he barely ever has to open the door when you come over to his house. one of the three are always closer to the front door whenever you ring the bell. walking by, tidying the living room or wandering the kitchen.

every time you enter you’re bombarded with questions and compliments from the sweet men. “you look pretty yn.” “where’s he stealing you off to today?” “did you watch the latest episode?” “ah i think he’s in his room, dunno.”

and every time after you get through your conversations with each of your boyfriends roommates, the man of your dreams is always leaning against the doorway behind them all.

cross armed, looking you up and down with a down turned smile, his comfy grey joggers and a black tight t-shirt with ‘DYNAMIGHT’ printed on the left breast, his own merch. he’s got his slipper socks on his feet, a black and white pair you bought him last month and you can feel the burn of his gaze.

bakugou enjoys staring at you from afar. not in a creepy way or anything, you know he’s in the house and once you get distracted from talking to one of his friends you’ll notice him.

he’s so cute, the six foot four man is so cute to you. giving you a nod and a single wave of his hand. and then he’s back to crossing his arms across his chest. his big bulging muscles, the black fabric of his t-shirt hugging them deliciously.

it’s only once he’s noticed you’re completely distracted from talking to his friends, your talkative self suddenly becomes mute, he knows it’s time to save you.

“alright, fuck, go get your own girlfriends and stop botherin’ mine.”

the three men sigh and huff, spreading apart like the red sea so you can walk to your lover.

you give him a massive grin, always excited to see him after months of being together. you force the skip in your step to stop with the eight eyes on you but that doesn’t stop your arms from stretching out to warn him you’re coming in for a hug.

honestly, it warms his heart. he’s never had anybody in his life excited to see him. perhaps as a hero because they know he’s going to save their lives. but right now in his home and comfy clothes, you’re probably just gonna eat snacks, gossip and watch some netflix. and every single time you’re excited to see him like he’s about to save your life.

once you’re a metre away, your steps get bigger and katsuki’s arms widen to bring you to his chest. your arms slither around his waist and you stuff your head between his pecs, inhaling the unique scent of him.

“hey ‘ki. missed you.”

“didn’t you see him two days ago?”

“fuck off sparky,” he bites, then softer after kissing the top of your head, “missed you too baby.”

“so disgusting.”

“in the public areas of our home. go get a room.”

you turn back to smile, “you’re all just jealous. you want a hug from him too, don’t you?”

“baby,” katsuki warns, “let’s go to my room now.”

one by one each of bakugou’s roommates smile. sneakily walking towards you both with most mischievous look you’ve ever seen, “true, we’ve never had a hug like that before.”

the grin on your face matches the same one as his three friends behind you. he knows what’s about to happen before he can stop it.

“i don’t wanna fuckin’ hug you lot.” he spits, backing away and letting go of you in the process.

you pout and his eyes flick down to you immediately like you’re in danger, “what? you don’t wanna hug me?” you whine and he’s just falling into your trap, the boys behind him stifling their giggles.

“what the fuck? yeah course i do, baby,” and like he’s drawn to you he walks back to wrap his arms around you, “was talking about them fuck—,”

with a hmpf from katsuki and a giggle from you, three extra bodies circled around you both in massive cuddle. your head was trapped between hard chests and you could feel the rumble of annoyance radiate from katsuki.

“knew you’d be a good cuddler, k,” sero says, one arm tightly around you and his other around your boyfriend.

“nice and warm. we should do this more often,” kaminari mutters, his head leaning on katsuki’s shoulder.

it’s kirishima that squeezes you all together pressing your cheek into katsuki’s chest with a loud fluttering giggle. bakugou finds it hard to be mad when you sound like that against him, even with three more annoying men touching him.

“now this is a hug. i’ve never had a hug more manly than this,” kirishima chuckles and bakugou’s had just enough.

“three seconds to get off me before i blow you all up.”

“you gonna hurt me too?” and it’s humourous how easily he plays into your palm, meeting your rounded eyes and rubbing your back. it’s like you’re in your own world as his tone changes and his body softens.

“no not you baby. them.”

you only laugh again as katsuki lifts his head up, “get off me. now.”

his friends back away slowly, chorus of laughs and giggles from them all as katsuki spins on his heels and drags you behind him. you wave like the queen at them, “bye guys!”

“Gimme a kiss,” Atsumu murmurs, deep voice low in your ear. His hands are on your hips, fingers digging into the softness of your skin. 

You pull him away from you, hands cupping his face and thumb running along his cheek in the way you know he likes. You raise an eyebrow, smiling softly, “I’m wearing lipstick, you know.” This causes his eyes to drop to your lips, gaze hungry, suddenly reminded of the fact. 

“So?” he asks, eyes flicking from yours and back to your lips. “Let everyone know I belong ta ya.” 

“You’re going to walk around with my lips printed on your face?” 

He nods eagerly, ducking to bury his face in your neck. “I’d be the happiest man alive if I got ta walk around like that.” 

This makes you laugh, your heart melt, and you reposition your arms around his shoulders to squeeze him closer to you. “You’re going to be late for practice, ‘Tsumu.”

“Just one kiss, baby. Even if it's on the cheek.” 

You sigh, but you know that he knows you’re only faking your reluctance. “Kay.” 

He pulls away from you, giving you his right cheek, and tapping his pointer finger against it with a giddy smile. You make sure to dramatize your actions, making an amplified noise when pulling away, laughing when he gives you his other cheek, and repeating your actions until he finally lowers his mouth to yours. 

He makes sure to deepen the kiss and only chases after you when you pull away, giving you little pecks and placing kisses all around your face, playfully biting your nose when it scrunches in fake disdain. When he finally separates from you, you take notice of the bright red lip marks on his cheeks, and the red tint left on his lips that are stretched into a grin. 

“How do I look?” 

“Like you are definitely mine.” 

His smile widens. “Great. ‘Xactly what I was goin’ for.” 

There are certain days where Bakugou just doesn’t get to expend all of the energy he saves up during his work days. So on those days, when he comes home, eyes alert and darting around until they find you, your body is instantly getting ready for—something. It tells you there’s a predator nearby, watching, waiting for your guard to lower so it can pounce.

And he does, he always does. Sets his bag down all slow, eyes never leaving yours, doesn’t even unlace his boots before he starts stalking toward you. And you take off in a dash, a deer sprinting from sharp teeth, quick around the kitchen island as Bakugou pounces.

And it would be terrifyingly scary event, if you weren’t giggling the whole goddamn time.

“Kats! Stop it! Can you please be normal for once?!” You screech in a laugh, trying to keep the joyous sound at bay as you catch your breath in a moments reprieve. You’re facing off against each other, him on one side of the counter huffing, you on the other. He splays his hands over the countertop, eyes narrowing, an evil little grin overtaking his face.

“Just cmere and I’ll stop.” He tells you, a lie that you’re already aware of from believing him countless times before. So you stare at each other for another beat of silence again before he tries to run around the counter to get you, and you’re darting off again into the living room.

He hops over the couch, misses you by a strand of hair as you giggle raucously, sliding into your shared room as you can hear his heavy stomps hot on your heels. You try to close the door but Bakugou is quicker, dives on you before you can brace yourself, flips you over midair so that his body lands on the floor and you’re cushioned between his strong arms and chest.

“Get off!” You scream to him, laughter filling up the space as Bakugou only grunts and peppers your face in kisses.

“No, fuckin’ brat. Running from me ‘nd shit.” He tells you in between wet smacks to your lips and nose and cheeks. You can only lay there and take it, face smushed against his as he squeezes you until you huff out another breathy laugh.

“You like the chase!” You exclaim, trying to wriggle free from his grip, and he lets you. Only because he can see you’re gearing up to run again and he still needs some energy to expend from the slow work day. So he grins, splayed out on the floor, one knee hiked up as he stares at you from under his lashes, readying his body to attack.

“I do,” he admits, lunging at you and missing as you quickly turn the corner. The chase begins, and once again ends in you pinned to the ground covered in too many kisses for you to count. It’s both of you guys’ favorite way to get rid of that extra unburned energy for the day.

mutual pining with bakugou but you two are oblivious as hell at first. like, everyone can see, oh, they can. anybody can tell how he never berates you, he tolerates everything you do, and even give you his utmost attention whenever you speak. not to forget that he wouldn't mind shutting everyone up just so they can listen to what you're saying. so, he can listen to what you're saying. the thing is that you two just mingle very casually, too very naturally, that such things don't occur as a special treatment from him. it flows just as is.

but the simplest things escalate little by little. with time, he doesn't mind a little touch. bakugou likes it, honestly, but he'd rather die than admit it in front of everyone. he lets you but he never says a thing about it. like when you pull onto his hand, telling him to rush to the class. or when the hall to the canteen is busy that you would accidentally brushes your shoulder against his.

with time, too, he gets bolder and comfortable. he'd take your hand first. in a crowd full of people, you wouldn't have to worry you'd lost him because you can feel his touch on you. sometimes it's his hand on your lower back, or on your shoulder, or maybe, on your waist if he's feeling brave. bakugou will always make sure you're not out of his sight.

you two are literally inseparable even after graduation. time can be harsh on you two, but bakugou would always find an excuse to stand in front of your doorstep.

“patch me up, would you?” he'd say on some nights. on some other days, he'd just wait for you to open your door and just feel glad to see your face.

there's no ‘go out with me’ and there is no ‘what is our relationship?’ because words aren't needed to describe how you two could naturally mesh with one another. with time, it's clear that you need him and he probably needs you even more than he would ever admit to your face.

so it doesn't come as a surprise to everyone. when one day you two are professional pro-heros and you two casually mention to your friends—kirishima, mina, sero, kaminari, izuku—that you two are living together.

it supposedly should have not come as a surprise when one day he comes home after a very rough mission. with dried blood on his costume and sticky bandages on his arms. and he rushes to your shared bedroom, rummaging through his wardrobe and chest, looking for something.

it shouldn't surprise you that after watching his life flashed in front of his eyes, the first thing he wants to do is to go home and see you. to be home to you.

it shouldn't be weird that he'd turn around to see your confused face before he asks you to be his companion of life. “please, i can't see myself going another day without you. i may not be the best person around with my shitty temper. i know you deserve more, but despite that i know i would want nothing but to come home to you. after a shitty day, i would want to have you to be there and i promise i'll always be there on your shitty days too. so, would you please marry me?”

he'd rush his words, and it is so unlike him and he says it with the red velvet box he has kept as a secret ever since he gives you the key to this apartment. he places it onto your palm, hoping that you'd take it. wishing to every Gods that you wouldn't mind settling down with him. which you don't.

so, bakugou shouldn't be surprised that his question—or pleas, even, is being answered by your hug. tears brimming on your waterline and a trembling whisper of 'yes'.

after all, it comes as natural as how you two met since the very first day.

think about your first time driving a car

shouldn't Palestinian children live to experience that?

think about your first kiss

shouldn't Palestinian children live to experience that?

think about your first time falling in love

shouldn't Palestinian children live to experience that?

think about your first sleepover

shouldn't Palestinian children live to experience that?

think about your first playdate

shouldn't Palestinian children live to experience that?

get this mf a little treat

The chili plant made a deal with their God to only be consumed by things that could spread its seeds and fly. The chili received capsaicin, making itself painful to eat for mammals, but not birds, and all was well for the chili.

Then the human shows up, tastes it, and likes the pain. So now there's this flightless fucking mammal eating the chili. Like not even a fruit bat or anything, a flightless fucking mammal chomping on the chili.

What the fucking shit, God, cried the chili, I specifically requested the opposite of this.

Now hold on, wait a moment, replied the God who talks to plants but has no idea what the fuck these apes are going to do next. It might be something cool.

And in a flash of a second, in barely fraction of the time that chili took to develop capsaicin, the humans went from walking across land bridges and rowing little boats across small waters, into building ships that could cross oceans. More humans tasted the chili, and liked the pain. They took the seeds with them, and planted it elsewhere.

See? They spread the seeds.

They're still not flying, said the chili, still feeling insulted and betrayed.

But before the conversation was over, the humans were still not done fucking around and nowhere close to finding out. The ships became machines, and another machine was invented, capable of flight. Now, not only were the humans farming chili on continents far too far away for any of the birds that originally ate it could dream of flying, but the chili flew with them to lands where it could possibly not grow, so that humans over there could also eat it and enjoy the pain.

You see? They spread your seeds and fly.

It doesn't count as keeping a promise if you only manage it by a fucking accident, said the chili, still somewhat insulted. But nonetheless, the chili thrived.