All I Wanna Do Is Tell Gojo Ill Be There To Kiss His Knuckles And Wipe His Tears

after the many, many years of being bakugou’s friend, kirishima could say he has never seen his best bud so in love with someone before—so deeply and irrevocably smitten with you.

it was the little things, mostly, that piled up and up until it was so blatantly obvious that bakugou had fallen—and he had fallen hard. making you bentos, hanging around your desk, walking you home… he’d never behaved like this with anyone before, kirishima mused. it was jarring, in a way. but kirishima was happy for his friend, and he couldn’t help but to keep an eye on the two of you whenever he was in the vicinity (whether bakugou knew he was there or not).

lovestruck, was the word that came to kirishima’s bewildered mind the first time he saw bakugou trailing after you. following you like this great shadow around the agency. he never seemed to leave you alone for too long and he’d always have this little pout on his face whenever you’d shoo him away so you could do your own work. kirishima didn’t think bakugou even knew about the extent of his own feelings—not at first, anyways. and when he tried to confront the blond, he’d act all gruff and grouchy, his ears tinted a violent pink.

bakugou could deny it all he wanted, though. kirishima saw right through him.

what really cemented everything for kirishima—really hammered it in that his best friend was finally getting some of the happiness he deserved—was the time bakugou had caught you from falling off a ladder.

you’d been trying to hang up some decorations around the agency—to “brighten things up a bit” you’d said. kirishima had been too far away at the time—but he still saw the moment you’d leaned just a bit too far to the right. the moment your foot had slipped and you’d tumbled off that tall ladder with a small yelp.

bakugou had been exiting his office at that precise moment. and kirishima swore he had never seen his friend run so fucking fast before in his life. a small explosion propelled him forward—charring the wood and frame of his office door. just so he could catch you before you cracked your head open on the floor.

kirishima watched—from his position across the agency, his legs tensed—as bakugou held you tight within his arms and looked down at your shaken form. he watched as bakugou played off his breathlessness as though he hadn’t just dead sprinted across the hall to get to you on time. you wouldn’t ever know, kirishima thought to himself, how desperate bakugou would have to be to move that fast. and kirishima finally relaxed his stance once he saw bakugou set you carefully down on the ground, hovering over you as he scolded you for being so inattentive. you only rubbed the back of your head as you smiled sheepishly up at him. if bakugou hadn’t been smitten before, he certainly was now.

kirishima couldn’t have been happier, really. and he found himself quietly slipping away, a smile on his face at the idea of bakugou finally, finally being in love.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐒

or four times Touya Todoroki almost told you he loves you, and one time he finally did

cw: GN!reader (one mention of them wearing a dress & heels), mentions of blood and injury, one brief mention of sex, hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, canon universe | wc: 6.8k

“When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it.”

“Start Here” - Caitlyn Siehl

#001

Touya wants to tell you he loves you the very first time he meets you, which granted, he realizes is incredibly fucked up—but he swears on what little he has that it’s the truth.

Withering away in a damp and cornered alleyway, he clutches his abdomen in hopes of stopping whatever bleeding is going on down there. He can’t bring himself to look, but he’s certain it’s there from the warmth of the spot and the sticky film now covering his hand. 

Yes, he’s been in this situation before—you’d think he’d have learned by now, based on the embarrassing amount of times he’s walked this same path. But he hasn’t, which is clear as he sits and quietly moans in his own agony. His burns continue to sting as a new layer of charred skin forms by the second, sensitive and exposed. The cut in his side throbbing so harshly that he almost feels a bit nauseous just thinking about it. 

As he’s mentally finding the strength to stand, he hears faint footsteps. If they’re truly faint, he doesn’t know—it could just be the effect of his vision coming in and out paired with the piercing ringing in his ears. 

“Are you alright?”

He can barely opens his eyes, but he does—and he sees you. 

Keep reading

physics my love

what kind of fruit best represents your love?

by bugboy on uquiz

Keep reading

they accidentally confess to you over text

anime: jujutsu kaisen

characters: itadori yuji, fushiguro megumi, inumaki toge

a/n: just realised i put two different movies in itadori's one, just go with "train to busan" pls :((

i love how delusional some articles of clothing are, like you read the tag and its like “hand wash only/tumble dry on low” son you are a cotton tshirt. youre going in the warsh and whatever happens in there is in gods hands

"i find myself running home to your sweet nothings"

summary | it’s always a rough day for katsuki. hero rankings and PR nightmares every time he opens his mouth. but he gets to come home to you

pairing | bakugo katsuki x fem!reader

word count | 840

warning | soft!domestic katsuki, fluff.

a/n | this is very literally based off sweet nothings by taylor swift, so you can listen if you want the full experience. also, i haven't posted in two months, so i'm sorry if this sucks. <3

—

katsuki drops his bracers at the door with a heavy sigh. he's only just got his boots off and tucked in the corner, when he hears your voice calling him from the kitchen.

"'suki?"

he feels the smile pulling at his lips entirely unbidden.

the soft notes of that song that's been stuck in your head (and by extension, his) plays from the speaker in the corner.

"hey honey," you smile, leaning up to give him a kiss when he's in range.

he'll never be able to explain how that title makes his heart clench. he couldn't verbalize how every title he's obtained has not mattered until you gave him that one. pro-hero, number 2, explosive, dynamight.

your title feels so intimate on your lips, reducing him to the man who would fall at his knees for you.

not a pro-hero or number 2. not a ticking time bomb or a hot-head.

just your honey. your husband. yours, yours, yours.

"how was your day?" you ask, still stirring the pot as you turn the stove down.

"it was alright," he mumbles. in truth his day was rough, and he's not ready to talk about it, and he knows you can tell by the way you reach your free hand out to swipe your fingers along his cheek.

you smile up at him, pinching his cheek. "you wanna wash up? dinner's almost done." when he nods slowly, closing his eyes against the feelings of your fingers, you give him a little laugh.

in the bathroom, he works with the skin care products you left on his side of the counter, the dry winter air has been harsh on his quirk and his skin.

he thinks back to the agency, to the hero rankings, to the disapproving stares of civilians when he lets out loud curses and swears. the scolding he received from his manager today. the article comparing his pros and cons against the number 1 pro hero deku.

the water runs over his chest as he tilts his face into the stream, still trying to catch his breath from the incredibly long week he's had.

by the time he's toweled off and dressed in his sweats, the tension has worked it's way up into his back and across his shoulders.

"katsu?" your voice rings out and he's immediately following the sound back to the front door. he snorts when he sees you trying to push his bracers into the corner near his shoes. "how the hell do you put these things on for hours at a time? oh my god."

bakugo only laughs when he picks up both bracers with ease, your shocked gasp ringing out in the hallway.

"you're so strong, katsuki."

and that's it. your praise comes so easy. the fantastic feats that he performs still awe you. even something as simple as his above average strength elicits cheer from you.

it doesn't matter that he does it everyday, or that it's expected of him, you treat every act like it's the most incredible thing you've ever seen. and bakugo tries to fight the blush creeping up on his cheeks when you say these things.

even after all these years, he hasn't gotten used to your praise.

you're quickly setting a plate in front of him, taking the seat right next to him. recounting the events of your day, catching your boyfriend up on your workplace drama, and your recent purchases is enough to take you both through dinner.

by the time you've got him laid on the couch, your favorite candle is lit in the middle of the coffee table, and you two are talking softly.

his head rests on your chest, his ear pressed right over your heart. your fingers work softly against the ache in his shoulder, somehow finding the right spots to touch. these are nights when he needs you to take him down and you always do so with ease. he groans softly at the tender strength in your touch.

"i like the way you sound."

and there you go again. how do you split him open with a just a few words?

"its so pretty. especially when you talk, and when you laugh, i think that's my favorite sound."

you're calling him pretty. like his body isn't a fucking live wire ready to go off when he sweats. like the natural production of his glands don't cause explosions. like people aren't out there wondering if he should be a villain because of the force of his quirk.

of course the power thrumming through his veins is nothing compared to you. to the person he is when he's resting between your legs, letting you pet and coo at him until he's pliant and soft.

you bathe him in compliments, your adoration of him washes the shitty week off his skin and coats him in a thick layer of your love.

his prickly edges become rounded and soft against your gentle touch. refining him to be composed entirely of your sweet nothings.

—

What’s your favourite fairly accurate science film

pairing: best friend!megumi x gn!reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol, nothing else i think but please lmk if you find something

megumi doesn’t drink, of course, he’s too smart for that. because when megumi drinks, images of you that usually he keeps at bay flood his mind. you, skipping down the little dirt road in the park, occasionally bending down to pick the tiny strawberries that line the overgrown path. it’s you that megumi sees, bravely making conversation with complete strangers and petting their dogs and shaking their hands and megumi just doesn’t know how you do it. megumi enjoys his apathic reputation, he doesn’t care, why should he? but lately you’ve been making him overthink. when you ruffle his hair his usual scowl is usually accompanied by a blush that megumi quickly hides by turning away and pretending to fix up his hair. this mornings worries consist of how to ask you to go to that new restaurant that just opened up in town, without it sounding too much like a date. when he finally pressed send, he cringes at how long it took him to write such a simple message. your reply comes quickly, made known by a soft ping that megumi knows means it’s you because everyone else is set on vibrate only.

sorry gums not tonight, i’ve got plans :p, let’s plan for tomorrow

megumi tries to seem unaffected, though truthfully he hasn’t seen you for a week now since you’ve been studying for your med exam, and he misses you

k. he sends, then winces at how low that sounds, he knows gojo wouldn’t approve. deciding to go on a walk, megumi puts on his jacket and wraps a scarf that you’d bought him at one of the little boutiques in town around his neck. walking around the park that he usually accompanies you to, megumis heart drops into his stomach as his brain processes the scene before his eyes.

two figures are walking in the park, the setting sun casting warm light against their red cheeks. one of the two, tall, taller than he is megumi notes, with dark hair that seems to style itself effortlessly, is saying something animatedly to the other, who slaps him on the head. he immediately recognizes the latter, because it’s you. so these are what your plans were, or more specifically, these are who your plans were. megumis brain immediately begins to compare himself with your new companion, the way his cheekbones sit on his angular face, the way his hands gesture, and most sickeningly, the way he makes you laugh. has he ever made you laugh like that? has he ever laughed like that himself? megumi looks away and heads home, his hands shoved so deep in his pockets he hopes he isn’t pulling his pants down, turning from the scene that he’s sure will be running through his head for the rest of the night. he brushes away an invitation from yuuji for a pizza night, opting to sit in his dark room, periodically glancing at his phone and trying to force the images of you and someone else out of his mind. megumis phone dings again softly, and he is greeted with a picture of you and your companion at a restaurant, squinting at the banner behind you megumi realizes with a sigh that you’ve brought your date, me go mi supposes, to the new restaurant, the one that he asked you to. which brings him to now, sitting in front of the bar, drinking something that the bartender promised was strong. and it is, megumi doesn’t know how long he’s been there, minutes? hours? all he knows is he wants to see you, so his fingers sloppily swipe through his phone until he reaches your contact, pressing it with no second thoughts.

“gumi?” your voice spills out of the speaker and megumi smiles, letting out a little giggle, “gumi are you drunk?”

“nOoOOoO…” megumi stubbornly says, before whispering, “yes, but don’t tell y/n”

“gumi i am y/n” you say exasperatedly, “i’m coming to get you, don’t move.”

megumi stays as still as possible, keeping his eyes open until he inevitably blinks. when your car pulls up, megumi sees you walk quickly up to the door, brushing away a middle aged man that comes up to you doing his best smolder, scanning the room until you see megumi sitting there. megumi wonders how you can be so beautiful and how your eyes are so pretty and how your hair sits perfectly on your head and how nice you look.

“megumi stand up let’s go,” you drag him up from the stool, “a picture will last longer” you add with a wink.

“but you told me not to move?” megumi giggles again, but he’s dragged out of the bar regardless and stuffed into your car.

the ride is silent sans the wind blowing through your open windows and the occasional hiccup from a snoring megumi. the silence is broken however, when you hear the sound of the mirror on the sun shield in your car being opened.

“megumi?” you ask, wondering what in the world could be prompting him to check himself out at this moment. “whatcha doin?”

“figurin’ somethin’ *hic* out” megumi mumbles in reply.

“what?”

“why ‘m not good enough for ya.” megumis voice takes on a pouty tone.

“what? megumi what do you mean?” you wonder because though you know about megumis insecurities he’s always known he’s been enough for you.

“why’d you hafta find that *hic* guy,” megumi continues, “the one you were at the park with *hic* and at the restaurant that i asked you to” this last part is spoken accusingly.

“gums im sorry but we were hungry and it was the closest restaurant, it was really good, we should go sometime too, but you can’t be upset over that?”

“of course i am,” megumi sounds exasperated, “i don’t want some random guy with you all the time, makin’ you laugh and stuff,” he grumbles.

you fight to hide the smirk covering your face, “oh yeah? and why’s that gums?”

“because i love you?!” megumi shoots, and then immediately slaps his hand over his mouth, the alcohol in his system making his eyes open wide like in the comics.

”what did you say?” you ask quietly 

and megumis heart speeds up and he’s sure it’s broken the sound barrier 

what did he just say

he just told you he loved you 

he sits, deathly still, as your car continues down the road 

what did he just do

”megumi” your voice cuts through the silence like a knife through the silky tofu you two prepare together for your lazy sunday morning miso soup

”i just didn’t want you to regret…anything” you continue, your voice softer, “i don’t want you to make a mistake.”

megumi thinks this over in his head 

does that mean you like him back

what about the guy

what were you doing with him

”we can talk about this more when you’re sober gums” you sigh

megumi looks up to see that you’ve arrived at his house 

you open the door with a spare key that megumi had given you and with that the rest of the night goes by in a blur

he briefly remembers you urging him to brush his teeth and you kissing his forehead goodnight

which brings megumi to now, with the morning sun fighting to push through his tightly closed blinds and his head filling with memories of last night

he bangs out of bed, he can’t lose you, he knows he will after what he pulled last night, but he can’t he can’t lose you 

changing into his black pants and foregoing a top he starts for the doorknob but it twists open before he can reach it

your smiling but worried face stares back at him 

“good morning gumi, i hope you don’t mind i slept here last-oof” you begin but megumis wrapped his arms around you

just as quickly he recoils 

“i’m sorry about last night” he says monotonously, his eyes looking anywhere but you, settling on the carpeted floor  

you sigh, unwilling to tackle such a heavy subject so early in the morning, but doing so anyways.

“did you mean it?” 

megumi feels his chin being lifted by your hands, forcing him to look you in the eye

he stutters, rubbing his hands together nervously

”yes-i mean n-no well yes of course but i’m sure you don’t-i mean” he pushes your hand away and looks back down at the floor “forget it. i want you to be happy, i’m sorry i told you, i’m glad you found someone.” 

he notices how you look away and with that he awaits your inevitable rejection, for you to agree with him that while he’s great he’s just not it, just not who you’re looking for, that being megumi is just not enough.

instead, he’s greeted with the feel of your incredibly soft lips, how are they so soft megumi wonders but he’s not surprised, it’s exactly how he imagined them. your hands go up to his hair and all his dreams are suddenly coming true

you pull back smiling and flick his forehead “i am happy gumi, here, with you.”

megumis heart rate slows and speeds up simultaneously

you like him back.

you’re not leaving.

you like him back

“oh and gumi? that guy you saw me with is my cousin makino.”

you smile at his blush and the smile that he can’t keep off his face

he glares at you, “coulda told me sooner,” he grumbles, “would have saved me from this hangover.” 

you laugh and drag him back to the bed, snuggling into the blankets and megumi cautiously wraps his arms around your middle, searching your face for approval but your eyes are already closed, your nose nuzzling at his bare chest and your leg wrapped around his. 

“don’t worry, i love you too, dummy”

i feel like bakugou only does fwb because mina tries to explain to his wound up ass that sometimes adults just have consensual sex for the fun of it.

like maybe it starts as an accident, or unplanned; somehow, she managed to get two mixed drinks in him — which is two drinks too many — and you're all at denki's birthday party and he's having a little more fun than he's willing to ever admit, and you're there, some friend of jirou's, and before he knows it, his face is flushed and he's staring at you a little too obviously from across the room.

you're pretty, that's all. and even though he's got this big dumb scar on his face and hands and chest and shoulders and — you're looking at him, too. making a face at him when something funny happens, eyes wide, lips curled into some amused smile; mouthing things to him, like he's wasted when denki falls and brings the curtains down with him. you're interacting but not, and did he really expect mina not to notice ???

"you should go talk to her!"

bakugou's reaction is a little slow, but just as intense; eyebrows furrowed, teeth grit, nostrils flared, as if she just suggested he kill his own grandma or something. "stay the hell outta my business."

unphased, she grabs one of his shoulders, fingernails diggiing in when he tries to shake her off. "c'mon, she's cute! and you two have been making googly eyes at each other all night!"

and — okay, he doesn't say anything to that, even though he definitely has not been making fucking googly eyes at you. it just takes him by surprise a little, that's all, that she thinks you've been making googly eyes at him. whatever that means. but the alcohol has set in enough that he's a little too transparent, a little too quick to bare his insecurities.

unthinking, he swivels his head back to stare at you, how you're smiling and chatting with some girl you came with, sticking your tongue out at him when you notice him looking, before he's swiveling to face back at mina again.

"the fuck am i supposed to say? i don't ever—" chat up strangers, he means, because — he never knows what the fuck to say. and it seems like a waste of time, usually, because he's got to reveal himself little by little and hope the other person doesn't run off crying because he hurt their feelings or something.

he's busy. hell, mina knows that better than anyone because her schedule isn't any looser than his, so it's not like he's really got time to date right now, and even if he did, he wouldn't have the time to devote to it that he probably should. it's why he's avoided it this long, and he makes a habit of steering clear of this subject with everyone, especially her, because she's always saying things like—

"you seriously need to get laid, blasty! maybe some of the pressure will release from your big head!"

and then he's attracting too much attention by trying to blast her to smithereens; something about alcohol makes him fourteen again, too quick to whip out the die!'s and sparking palms.

it also throws off his balance a little, because he doesn't really want to turn her to dust and so he's not fighting as hard and she's almost got him in a headlock when you walk up, laughing at how much they resemble clumsy, overgrown children.

as soon as mina sees you, she's up on her feet and saying, "he's totally clean, practically a virgin!" before he can actually, really, truly end her young life. and you laugh some more when his face goes beet red and he means to insist that that's not true — it is — but you sit too close beside him on the couch and it's like he's taken a large sip of one of mina's too-strong drinks all over again.

"you know," you start, crossing one leg over another so that it's brushing against his knee. "you're a lot funnier than i thought you'd be."

and bakugou has zero game sober, so he says, "...well...you dunno shit about me, so..."

"no, i guess i don't," you snort, leaning a little further into him, grin widening when his cheeks darken at your proximity. "but i'd like to learn."

no. he's not gonna tell anyone that you fucked in sparkplug's guestroom. zero. nobody. taking it to the grave, because he's really not that kind of guy. and there's already this out of control rumor about him in the media that he's some sado-masochist hard dom and he's not really trying to fuel that fire.

okay, he doesn't tell anyone except mina, because she's the one that got him into the whole thing in the first place.

"it's really not a big deal, kats." she says it to him over breakfast in her overdecorated, over-pink kitchen, smirking at him from across the bar counter where he's chugging some green drink she concocted. "people hook up with strangers all the time."

"well, i fuckin' don't." he grumbles, frowning at the heart pattern on her dinner plates. the too-large glasses she's given him to block out the sun aren't helping. more for show than anything, he thinks.

"not like i want to know all the raunchy details but," —she and bakugou share a grimace at the thought— "didn't you have at least a little bit of fun?"

okay, he did.

you're — carefree, in the sense that nothing was too serious, too awkward. this isn't something bakugou does on the regular so it maybe might have been a while, but — you were fine with that. didn't mind at all, seemed to be just as content sitting naked on top of him, tracing the ugly lines over his chest and across his shoulders and at his hip and —

he also learned his refractory period is about 12 minutes. and that yours is about 45 seconds.

yeah, he can admit that he had a decent time with you, but the problem isn't that he hooked up with some stranger.

the problem is that he kinda liked watching you through hazy eyes as you walked your fingers up his chest, fiddling with his ear and pushing his hair up off his forehead. that he kinda liked pulling your legs up around his hips because you fit together a little better than he expected. that he didn't know you would feel so good or sound so sweet underneath him.

the problem is that sex makes him vulnerable and that's the real reason he avoids it so much. the problem is that he doesn't really want to hook up with strangers.

the problem is that now he just wants you.