My Kind Of Woman…

see writing is funny because sometimes you have to google things like “can the human body survive with every rib broken” and other times you have to google things like “is there an ikea in manhattan???”

✧*࿐random cute texts: jjk ✧˖*࿐

✧ft: satoru, yuuta, yuuji, megumi & nanami

✧note: trying to get back into posting again. enjoy!!

✧ want your own customized texts from your favs? commissions are open!

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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"Haha, of course there's a teacher shortage, they're all learning their worth and quitting! Good for them!"

A quick Google search for "teacher covid deaths" turns up pages and pages and pages of articles about dead teachers.

They're not quitting. They're dying.

i can't believe there are people who hope avery will dump jameson and get together with grayson in "the brothers hawthorne". avery chose jameson. it's final. you can't change it. move on.

literally thought about adult bakugou meeting his middle schoo self and crushing him in hug and little him being stunned

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.

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

averyjameson headers. please like or reblog if you save.