She's Really Making Sure He's Dead

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.”

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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

hey guys I just remembered this gif

Same my guy

want this to be me

[03:47]

it was the sound of crashing pots and pans that woke oikawa up in the dead of night.

the boy instinctively reached out to the side of the bed, searching for any signs of you but you were gone. oikawa sighed as he turned onto his side, catching sight of the time before he mentally facepalmed. it was almost four in the morning, the boy thought, why in the world were you awake?

and so, in searching of answers to his questions, the boy pulled himself out of bed, padding out of the bed room and into the kitchen, the newfound bright light making him squint as he caught sight of you standing over the oven, eyes glued to the small timer displayed on the front of it.

“good morning,” he mumbled rubbing his eyes.

the sound of oikawa’s voice made you jump as you turned around to see a very sleepy version of your boyfriend, his slightly dazed eyes a significant contrast to your rather panicked alarmed ones. “shit,” you cursed out, walking towards the boy. “go back to bed, sorry for waking you,” you added as you began to push him back to the bedroom.

but oikawa gently removed your hands from him as he stood firm. “no, no it’s fine,” he mumbled. “why are you awake?”

“shit,” you sighed.

the boy laughed. “why is you being awake a bad thing?”

“kind of?” you answered. “i mean i did end up waking you, sorry about that.”

“no it’s ok baby,” oikawa reassured, voice as soft as the small smile on his lips. “now why are you awake?”

“this is gonna sound stupid,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair.

“i’m all ears,” oikawa answered, now much more conscious than when you first saw him.

“ok fine,” you mumbled. “i had a dream about how i owned a bakery and how i baked a bunch of different sweets right?”

“yeah go on,” oikawa nodded intrigued a small smile curling on his lips.

“well, i remember baking a shit ton of chocolate chip cookies right? and before i could hand them out or sell them or something, i don’t know, i woke up, but here’s the thing,” you answered as oikawa followed along with your rather comical yet interesting story. “i ended up remembering the recipe to bake them.”

“so you remembered the recipe from your dream?”

“i mean i guess so.”

“how does that even work?” oikawa blinked before laughing.

“if i knew i would tell you,” you shrugged. “but anyway i woke up with a craving and a recipe and now i’m cooking before i can forget.”

“well that explains why you’re baking at three am,” oikawa mumbled with a sigh. “even if it’s for a rather weird reason.”

“hey! i was interested why my dream left me with a full recipe for cookies!” you exclaimed. “i just had to try it.”

“you really intrigue me sometimes love.”

“well that makes two of us,” you laughed as the oven went off, almost on cue. your eyes lit up at the sound before running back to the kitchen to go get them as oikawa watched on, a lovesick grin on his face as he watched you with adoring eyes.

you pulled the cookies out of the oven with a bright smile on your face, considering it was almost four in the morning. “wanna try them?”

“your mysterious dream recipe cookies?” oikawa teased. “of course.”

he walked up to you in the kitchen as you took the cookies off of the pan and onto a plate. the boy examined the cookies, nodding almost in approval at how they looked. you looked over at him. “what expected them to look like shit?”

“no,” he answered. “i just didn’t think you’d properly bake them at three in the morning.” he answered with a smirk, to which you hit him in the arm.

you rolled your eyes as you grabbed two fresh cookies off the plate. the two of you held up your cookies, looking to each other with admirable smiles. “to weird dreams.” you smiled.

“to mysterious recipes.”

“and to the loving boyfriend who would support me if i became a baker.” you giggled before the two of you took a bite, the cookies ending up much better than you had expected. “how is it?”

“write down the recipe,” oikawa answered before taking another bite. “i don’t want you forgetting this one.”

you laughed before grabbing a sheet of paper.

“way ahead of you.”

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