YES YES YES WE NEED MORE 1A Girls Content !!!

sero with a sleeve tattoo of random asss things live in my head rent free

 Lip Smacker - m.

⤷ summary: in which izuku, katsuki, and shouto make a bet about what flavor chapstick you wear.

word count: 4.8k   pairing: tdbkdk | fem!reader   warnings: none ♡   genre: crack, smut | lime author’s note: This is a COLLEGE AU, meaning all characters are aged up to 18+ consenting adults—more specifically all characters are in their 20s.

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french toast

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

an: enabled by @babiemay thank her for giving me the BIGGEST best friends older brother sukuna brain rot i've ever had in my life. (ooc sukuna again btw)

**part of my best friends (older brother) fic

previous part linked here

--

based on the seventeen years that sukuna has known you, he figures that you’ve already worked up some type of overthinking storm in your head when you arrive at his apartment two days later. and he knows for a fact that he’s right, because you’re at his doorstep with a pinched look on your face, clutching your purse like you’re about to get robbed. 

“hi pretty girl. did someone make an attempt on your life today?” 

you can feel your cheeks burning at the term of endearment, so phased you can barely coherently respond - or understand - what it is he said. 

“no?” you respond, nearly sweating under his eye contact as he smiles. 

“then why are you looking at me like you think i’m going to eat you?” he asks, annoyed as he gestures for you to walk into the kitchen. 

you feel your head run in a spiral, at the implication of his words, as he places his hands flat on your shoulders, and guides you to sit at the stool on his little kitchen island. the entire ordeal - the breakfast, the fact that he’s peeling off your coat and pressing a kiss to your temple, and the lingering touches - they make your skin burn, almost itch with nervousness. 

he stands on the other side of the counter, leaning forward on his forearms, as he smiles at you. and you try your best to figure out what exactly it is that’s beaming in his eyes as he leans forward. 

“pick your poison.” 

you feel yourself pale. 

“huh?” 

he frowns, as he leans back. 

“for breakfast? what did you want to eat?” he clarifies. 

you breathe a sigh of relief. 

“anything’s okay. don’t trouble yourself. i-i can even help.” 

you walk over to his side, pulling up your sleeves and giving him a peachy smile, as he takes the opportunity to step towards you. your back hits the counter and sukuna makes it a point - resting both of his arms at your sides - as he traps you within his hold. 

“talk.” he states, almost sternly. 

“hm?” 

sukuna leans closer, leaning his forehead against yours, as he takes a deep breath. it reminds you vividly, of two nights ago, when he pulled you straight onto his lap. and murmured into your skin that you were his pretty girl. and that he was going to prove it to you. 

“talk.” he states, the tone in his voice irritated. 

you look up at him, at his eyes razor focused in on yours, and spot no inclination of irritation on his face. despite the fact that you were almost positive that it was dripping from his tone. though, you always found him particularly hard to read.  

“now.” he murmurs. 

you sigh. 

“what are you trying to do right now?” you ask. 

he rolls his eyes. there’s the irritation you were hearing. 

“make you breakfast.” he deadpans. 

“is that all?” 

“what are you getting at?” he asks. 

sukuna often finds that talking to you is like digging a hole. that it takes patience. because he’s not going to find what he’s looking for forthright. but he knows for a fact that there’s something down there. 

it’s aggravating. but he persists.  

“promise you won’t make fun?” you ask. 

“i will do no such thing.” 

“sukuna.” you whine, crossing your hands against your chest. 

sukuna finds this part of you endearing. because it reminds him of all the different ways he’s seen you. when you were four and barging into his house to play wii with his little brother, explaining barbie movies at the dinner table, and tagging along on his family vacation when he was fourteen. 

and how after all this time, you still have the same tendencies. you bounce your right leg when you’re nervous, tuck your hair behind your ears when you’re finished rambling, and curl your hands into little fists and cross your arms - entirely unable to meet his eyes - when you’re embarrassed. 

sukuna clears his throat, as you look up at him. and you know the expression all too well. that he’ll wait all day if he has to. 

“no making fun. i’m serious, sukuna.” 

“it’s almost like you know you’re going to say something stupid.” 

“don’t call my feelings stupid.” you murmur. 

“well, i’ll keep calling them stupid until you tell me what they are. i’ll be honest if you let me.” 

this is something you can appreciate about sukuna. that he won’t beat around the bush. or say things just to coddle. it’s the same as the other night, where you told him about what happened at the bar, when he didn’t rush to your defense like almost everyone else does. and when it comes to this, you figure that he’ll be straightforward. 

“are you trying to have sex with me right now?” you ask. 

you look at sukuna, specifically at the way his eyes widen, before he breaks out into a laugh. and not just any laugh, because he’s nearly keeling over with how amusing he finds it. howling even. and it makes even more blood rush to your cheeks, humiliated for even bringing it up. 

sukuna grins, lifting his hands up from the sides of the counter and wrapping them around your neck.you can feel your breath hitch in your throat, as you instinctively shut your eyes. he’s going to be straightforward. 

“your feelings are stupid.” he whispers, right into your skin. 

you pull back, staring at him dumbfounded, as he places one of his hands on your waist. and he’s staring back at you, the expression in his face slightly amused. 

“that’s not nice.” 

“i’m not a nice person.” 

it’s frustrating. the tone that he uses with you. it teeters between placating and teasing you and you find it hard to decide which one exactly it is. and it seeps right under your skin, lets your irritation come to a head faster than it usually would.

“okay, well. sue me! you had no problems doing god knows what in my room the other day. and-and then you were making jokes about how you were going to eat me. the second that i got here. and-and you know how you are-” 

“and what’s that?” 

you pause.

“what?” 

“you said you know how you are. well, i don’t. enlighten me please.” he clarifies. 

sukuna’s pleased with himself. because he’s figured out exactly what it is, that’s brewing in that head of yours. and naturally, he has every intention to make you mince your words. 

“you-” 

you’re not sure how to say this. if there’s a polite way to call him what he is. 

“i’m what? a manwhore?” he asks. 

“no! you-” 

“you think i’m a horny freak, right? that i want to lift you up, take your skirt off, and have you right here on my kitchen counter?” 

you feel your eyes go wide, as you swallow hard, and feel the nervousness take residence in your stomach. sukuna senses it fast enough and makes his efforts to diffuse it. 

“do you think i would only invite you here because i want you to please me? do you think that’s the only way i can enjoy your company?” 

you can feel yourself getting too overstimulated, your head nearly steaming - at the implication, at the way he’s looking at you, and the fact that his lips are a few feet away from yours - and his smug grin crawling underneath your skin and making you twitch. 

you cover your face with your hands, feeling the warmth on your palms, as you feel his hands curl around your wrists, prying them off of your face. and when you look up at him, at the soft smile on his face, as you can’t help but frown at him. 

“no…” 

sukuna smiles. 

“are you lying to me?” 

you deflate. 

“maybe a little.” 

sukuna secures his hands around your waist, before fully lifting you up and placing you on the counter. and he presses a lingering kiss to your cheek before he wordlessly starts rummaging through different cabinets in his kitchen and the fridge, fully intent on making you the breakfast you were promised. 

you can’t help but watch him, as he muses around his kitchen, slicing vegetables on the cutting board and fruits on the side. at how he entirely discards the conversation you just had like it was nothing. 

from two feet away, sukuna is very, very appreciative of you. because you’re not very proud. and despite your first attempts, you’re honest too. because he knows for a fact that your hesitation to state your thoughts is because you don’t want to write sukuna off as something so…lewd. even if you think it’s true. and that of course, any hesitation on your part comes from something deeper than him. 

the deep seated distaste you seem to have for yourself. though sukuna’s entirely unsure why it’s there in the first place. he slices a strawberry in half, letting the eggs cook at his side, before he makes a residence standing in between your legs. 

he hands you one of the halves of the strawberry, before popping the other in his mouth and leaning into your space. 

“i don’t think you’re a manwhore.” you clarify. 

“okay. i don’t think you’re one either.” he responds. 

you smile.

“but you do think that’s the only reason you’re here?” he pokes. 

“no! no, i don’t think that. i just-” 

you sigh, placing your hands flat on the fabric of his hoodie, as you crumple it into your fists. 

“sorry. i’m not very good at this type of thing. and-and you’re like…you know. reputation. and you obviously have needs! and megumi thinks you’re a womanizer.” 

sukuna snickers, as you release his hoodie, and you deflate slightly. mainly at the fact that he’s not offended. and letting you ramble - and say ten different things you shouldn’t - openly. 

sukuna doesn’t shy away from what exactly it is that you think of him. or what that godawful sea urchin megumi thinks either. because it’s naturally, quite simple. and somewhat true. because he finds it hard to stay in one place for a long time. and as you very keenly put it, he had needs. 

though, that rule, as sukuna was painstakingly reminded of, didn’t apply to you. because again, you transcended any normal guideline that sukuna had. which is why he was keen on making you breakfast two days later, on his day off. and make your favorite, which he specifically remembers from the camping trip. 

“i’m not sure what thing you’re referencing. and make no mistake. i don’t talk in tongues like you do. if i invite you over for breakfast, it’s because i want to eat breakfast with you.” he responds. 

“you were the one who said you were going to eat me.” you defend. 

“you were looking at me like you were scared of me. like how prey looks at a predator before it gets eaten?” 

“oh.” 

sukuna pushes off the counter as he starts plating the food onto and feels his ego inflate when you jump off the counter and cling to his arm when you realize what exactly it is that he made. 

“sukuna. i love french toast!” 

“yes. i’m well aware.” 

"how'd you know?" you ask.

sukuna looks over at you, the look in his eyes so devious, that you know you've certainly walked into something by stating it.

"you told us. on the camping trip. you've always been my pretty girl. even when you were fourteen."

you barely have time to even stomach what it is that he said as he lifts both plates as he makes a gesture for you to follow, seating the two of you back on his kitchen island. and when you settle in, sukuna gets to pick at your mind, with the questions that have been stuck in his head for the past two days. 

“before i divulge my manwhore adventures for you, you have to indulge me first. how many guys have you dated? or talked to?” sukuna asks. 

you hate sukuna’s choice of words sometimes. indulge. it’s almost like he knows he’s saying words that make you nervous. that make the sweat accumulate on the palms of your hands. 

“where’d you learn how to make french toast like this?” you ask, deflecting. 

“i asked first.” 

you swirl the eggs around on the plate - moving them from the left, to the right, and back to the left - before you answer. 

“i had a crush on this guy named dean from sixth grade to eighth grade. all of the boys in school got dared to slow dance with different girls and he picked me. it was an awkward four minutes of halo by beyonce but i loved him after that. he was funny. and cute.” 

“did you date?” he asks. 

“oh, of course not. he started liking this girl named kimi in eighth grade.” 

sukuna’s not exactly sure if this is the question he asked. but you keep going. and it’s intriguing to him nonetheless. 

“in my sophomore year of highschool, i had a crush on this guy named parker. he was kind of nerdy, like the stupid type? my english teacher would always put us in group projects together, and when i asked him why, he said it was because he wanted us to get married.” 

“that’s an appropriate thing to say to a fifteen year old.” sukuna bites. 

“no! my teacher had this dream to go to two of his students weddings, that met in his class.” 

“and what killed that extremely inapprorpiate dream, dead in its tracks?” 

“my best friend. we all somehow ended up in the same friends group our junior year. and they kind of started flirting. dated all the way till our freshman year of college.” you respond. 

sukuna curbs the question that comes to the forefront of his mind. because it occurs to him that his plausible answer to it, one that he despises, is exactly what’s going to be the answer. that if they liked each other, you were going to let them. despite the fact that you liked him first. 

“any more for me?” sukuna asks. 

“my first boyfriend was in my senior year of highschool.” 

sukuna feigns shock, as you fight the urge to laugh. 

“have we finally arrived to a real boyfriend?” 

you laugh, as you settle your hand into his underneath the table. there’s something so inviting about him, the way he’s hanging off the ends of your words and listening intently, that makes you continue. 

“we don’t speak his name.” you state. 

“oh?” 

“he’s not a good guy. we dated until….my freshman year of college. december. and we officially stopped talking the summer of my sophomore year.” you state. 

sukuna bites the urge to ask every question in his mind. on who this guy is, why you continued to talk to him almost an entire year after, and most importantly, why you haven’t talked to anyone else since. 

except for him anyways. for the first time, sukuna finds himself being the exception. in a way that’s favorable to him. 

“that’s all of them! your turn.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“that’s all?” 

“mhm! it’s kind of boring, i’m assuming. in comparison to you.” 

sukuna concludes one thing. that all three of these men, especially the last, were not deserving of you. in the slightest. and that each one had wrecked a sizeable amount of havoc. he curses himself for not paying attention when he was still there.

“oh definitely. you’d need to stay here all day if you wanted to here that.” 

you smile brightly. 

“that can be arranged.” you respond. 

sukuna leans forward, lips a few feet away from yours, before he speaks again. 

“you like to play hard to get, don’t you?” sukuna asks. 

“what? what do you mean?” 

sukuna places his hands on the rung of your chair, before pulling it flesh with his own. and he tests the waters, by placing his hand on your bare knee, right near the pleats of your black skirt. and he feels you instinctively press your legs together, but make no moves to push him off. 

“i didn’t make the list?” 

you swallow hard, entirely embarrassed. though, your first real crush you supposed is naturally the one that you’ve denied, vehemently, since you were four years old and yuuji asked you in passing. 

because when your eyes lingered on him for too long, after he fixed the wii controls and dutifully handed you both your controllers back - of his wii, that he was letting you play on - yuuji halfmindedly asked the question. 

why are you looking at him like that? do you like him or something? 

it was a joke, of course. because yuuji just asked so he could start the match of wii tennis while you weren’t paying attention. that in the rush of it, you never got to consider the answer to it in full. though you suppose there’s no better time to answer it than now. 

“i have this best friend. his name is yuuji.” you start. 

sukuna’s alarmed. so alarmed that he pulls his hand off of your thigh, retreating it behind his back. 

surely you didn’t really like yuuji. because that would stop whatever it was that was blooming right now. because he was not his brother, despite their identical pink hair. the farthest thing from it actually. 

“i met him when i was four. and i barged into his house because he wanted me to play wii with him. you see, his big brother didn’t really like to play with him so he figured that i was the next best thing.” you state. 

“he had greasy hands. so did you. it was disgusting.” he states. 

“and yuuji didn’t know how to turn on the game. or-or remember which one it was in. so he called his very cool, much older brother, to help us. i’d never met a six year old before, and naturally if i had, i wouldn’t have thought he was so cool.” 

“shut up.” 

sukuna desperately wants you to continue. 

“seemed like the real serious type. kind of quiet. dark blue shirt, black shorts. the socks that only go to your ankles. i didn’t even know that his name was sukuna until a few days later, when he walked with us to school. he didn’t even introduce himself to me.” 

“did you want to know him that badly?” 

“and he fixed the remote, obviously. had some six year knowledge we didn’t clearly. and-and he turned to me. gave me a smile before he handed one to me and walked away.” you state, shrugging at him. 

sukuna’s satiated with your answer. mostly because, it seems you seem to remember the ordeal in as excruticating detail as he has. that you were wearing a pink dress, gold earrings, and a ribbon in your hair. that your skin was the softest he had ever felt, that you were the first girl who had brushed fingers with him when he handed you the remote, save for his mom of course 

sukuna brings his hand back into your hair, feeling the fabric of the blue ribbon in your hair today, matching with the short cardigan that you were wearing. and he wants to keep this one too. yank it out of your hair and secure it to his keys next to the pink one he refused to return. 

sukuna looks down at the fabric, at your hair sprawled over your shoulder. he can make out the length of your collarbone from underneath your tanktop and settles his lips right into divot, before pressing a lingering kiss into your skin and feeling you keel over in his arms. 

“france.” he murmurs, right into your skin. 

“what’s that?” you ask, dazed from the contact. 

“i learned to make the french toast in france.”

he kisses up the length of your neck, making no inclination to stop even as you barely stutter your words out. and for the second time, can't resist and places his hands on your waist just to pull you straight on top of him.

"makes sense. that's just-just toast for them." you mumble.

sukuna can't help but laugh. he's never going to tire of you.

--

an: ask for a part three I DARE you. (no I really don't but if I did write one reader is meeting sukuna's friends AND the guy who called her ugly ends up being one of them. anyways.)

taglist: @ghostreadersthings @porridgesblog  @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06  @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks

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This is something I wrote like AGES AGO !!! And I’ve been VERY MIA LATLEY so here’s some cringe asss writing I wrote at like 6am

cw/ ok this IS a bit suggestive but a little kiss is all that happens ( OMG SPOILERS RHEA! ). sero does allude to something more but he isn't serious and never names it, just insinuates ig ?. sero being a nervous little teenager. this is actually something that i did like a week ago at a sleep over 😋. #bring back nervous men

ok. ok. okk. oookkk. he repeats over and over in his head. omfg stop sweating. your hands are so sweaty stop sweating sero! he yells at himself but because the body doesn't respond to agression, his pleads led to no avail. he sits up straighter thinking he's slouching too much. women don't like men with bad posture, makes them look shorter and sloppy! he can hear his mothers voice now nagging at him. he doesn't know why he's so nervous, you have been participating in these weekly movie nights with the some of class 1A and 1B for months now. so why is it now that he suddenly can't breathe with you next to him? you shift a little bit and suddenly it all comes clear to him. oh, she's next to me. she's leaning on me, not mina or urakara. is she mad at one of them? no no, you wouldn't bother coming down here if you were. maybe you were trying to make one of his friends jealous? did you like someone in this room? hell who cares, you're leaving on him. not bakugou, not todoroki, not denki, him.

he can feel your skin against his due to your shirt riding up. you're probably cold right? if you're so cuddled up next to him. he goes to reach for a blanket but stops. wait no, if you pull a blanket on the both of you, she'll probably think you're trying something. something you are definitely not trying. i mean.. you wouldn't mind trying... NO GOD SERO NO BAD! you aren't mineta. you're in a room full of people !! and plus that's a douche move. "are you good ?" you ask with a light laugh and he realizes he's just sitting straight up, with a arm mid way reaching out for the blanket. "uhhh" "oh! are you getting a blanket? thank god i'm like freezing in here." before he can really move you reach over and pull the white fluffy blanket over both of you. both of you. both. of. you. sero relaxes a little, leaning back into the couch with his hands in his lap like he's in church. another 15 minutes go by and he doesn't move. enjoying the smell of you and your soft hair splattered across his collar bone and the couch cushion. 15 more minutes of nothing. no movement. no sweating. just stillness until, you move your arm across his body to prop yourself up facing him. oh my god. what is happening. did i miss something? is she going to yelll at me ? can she read my thoughts? brain going a mile a minute he completely disregards you leaning in close to him, whispering in his ear "are you sure you're ok sero, you seem a little... tense." he turns his head to look at you and you pull away a little looking into his eyes. you look so pretty. how can someone look so pretty like this? he thinks. hair messy from endless tossing during the movies, no makeup, chapped lips and your face illuminated by the blue light from the tv. "um no no im fine. im sorry i just. school. stressful hahah.. you know?" god he sounds like a train wreck right now. 'hahah.. you know' wtf is wrong with you. he thinks as you giggle a little. he looks around briefly noticing everyone is alseep. how the hell did they fall alseep it's only, he looks at his apple watch, 1:47am, oh. "ha ha... yeah i know." god now you're mocking him. he would think he completely ruined the convo if it weren't for your slight smile tugging at your lips. you back away from his face and he doesn't know if he's glad or hating it. you're still turned towards him, just sitting back now on the edge of the couch. "aw boo, looks like they all passed out." you say looking down and around at your friends who are all snoring away. "are you tired yet?" you ask. and god he thinks his heart stops when you tilt your head to look back at him. "ummuh no not really. i could sleep but i could also stay up a little longer." yeah that totally makes sense. you sit there for maybe 10 more seconds but it feels like 10 more hours to sero, just looking at him, smiling. should he smile back? or keep his scared little boy expression? he needs to relax he shouldn't be this tense over a classmate. granted the classmate is the definition of drop dead gorgeous, and they're so smart and funny, more smart than funny but god does he really like that about you. "can i kiss u sero?" holy shit. that came out of NO WHERE. well not really but STILL ! you WANT to kiss him. YOU want to kiss HIM? you want to KISS HIM? his mind is racing, thinking of the perfect thing to say back. something cool and smooth and "yeah" oh. that wasn't cool or smooth but it got the job done. you look at his lips then back at him as you lean in with your stupidly adorable smirk. you stop momentarily, centimeters before touching his lips, the he leans in to close the gap. your chapt lips meet his softer ones and you put your hands around his neck, fingers gliding into his almost mullet as you break away. licking your lips and smiling like a total goof you whisper, "i need to get to bed. goodnight sero." you get up and kiss his cheek once more before vanishing in the dark hallway. and he's left there. motionless and euphoric. best first kiss ever.

high school miya atsumu who has the fattest crush on you and somehow managed to hide it from everyone for 3 months before osamu caught him scrolling through your instagram for the nth time that week. atsumu made him swear he wouldn’t tell you - or anyone on the team for that matter - as he was already so embarrassed by the way he was outed. osamu swore up and down he wouldn’t, but not before sending a voice recording of the whole conversation to you :))

classy

<i got this idea after i saw this tiktok & spent an hour in cold bath water writing this so 😐>

c/w: bkg calls reader feminine names (pretty girl, girly), reader is in a dress, no body type mentioned. food is mentioned.

when katsuki first asked you out, he told you to "meet me outside the dorms at 7:30, look classy if y'a want." assuming you were probably going to a nice restaurant you dressed just as he requested. a simple yet elegant black silk dress, with your favorite Avery 100 Jimmy Choo's, and gold jewelry to complement.

as soon as you walked up to the door, it opened revealing katsuki in a dark grey button down and black slacks. he liked good. he smelled good too. you recognized the hints of vanilla, amber and spice in his cologne. it reminded you of some tom ford cologne. he's eyes widened and his ears perked up at the sight of you. "sorry" you said with a light laugh, "am i overdressed?" you asked. "uh- no. you uh. you look really good." there was no emotion in his voice but the look on his face told a different story. he held his arm out to you, which you took and you could feel him flexing just a little bit. (which he'd deny) he walked you to the kitchen and you were shocked to find the table lit with candles and his cologne circulating around you. "oh are we not going out?" you asked. "oh uh. no." he sounded sorry but you weren't disappointed at all. you always loved to idea of a cooking date. this was far more fancy than you ever fantasized but that made it better in a way.

you let go of his arm and walked into the kitchen where pots and pans were distributed out. "so what are you making for me, hero?" any doubt he had vanished at your question. you sound excited. or happy? he didn't really knew what you sounded like, but he knew you weren't disappointed that you guys weren't going out. "anything you want, pretty girl." he answered, following you into the kitchen. "i was thinking something italian but i can honestly cook anything." he said with that confidence bordering arrogance. one of the many things you liked about him. "mmm italian sounds amazing!!" and with that he started. he looked up italian appetizers put some brie in the oven and chopped up pears, green apple, and toasted some sourdough bread to dip. you didn't have the heart to tell him brie was actually a french dish. and hour and a half was spent of him cooking while the two of you talked. you didn't know bakugou incredibly well, you met him through your mutual friend, kirishima. however, at the end of the night you knew almost everything about him. how he dreamed of being a hero since he can remember, about his crazy ass mom and quiet dad. you knew that he learned to cook when he was in middle school, his parents were getting promoted a lot back them, which meant nights where he would cook for himself and sometimes them. you picked up that he came from a well off part of japan, or you assumed as much since he mentioned summering in paris and visiting new york a couple times with his parents. you learned how he thought of kirishima, denki, sero, mina, and even midoryia, to your surprised, as his first real friends. he told you about his AWFUL first kiss story, and the one time he had to cover for denki and sero, who were too busy getting high as a kite in some general studies girl dorm room. and how he had to carry the both of them out with the help of kirishima.

he opened up to you in the dimly lit kitchen. more than you thought. you honestly weren't expecting for tonight to go as well as it did. Sure he wasn't the same vulgar and closed off boy he was two years ago, but you still weren't expecting this. You weren't expecting to enjoy his company as much as you did. after the food was eaten, and a tired look plastered you and kats faces. he got up and began cleaning up the kitchen. you followed him and helped. the clean up was silent but it wasn't awkward.

at 9:45 he walked you out the door, putting one of his jackets on to walk you back to your dorm buildings. a thin skip dress with thinner straps was clearly the choice to wear now. the temperature dropped to 45 degrees since you arrived. "you cold in that thin little thing, girly?" "n-n-n-no." you said but the chattering of your teeth gave up your lie. he gave you a quick laugh through his nose as he slid his jacket off and draped it around your shoulders. his hand closest to you slid down your arm and hovered by yours. he stayed there for not a second before tailoring his finger around yours one at a time beige fully engulfing you hand in his larger calloused one. you walked like like, leaning into him hesitantly for warmth as the two of you reached your dorms building. "you know, this was actually really fun. i'm glad we didn't go out now." you said walking up the stairs to the great big door. "of course you are, my cooking is 10x better than some stupid restaurant." "you know i bet you're right." you said smiling. "thank you, for this. this was one of the best nights i've had." you said with the street light making your skin glow. "yeah yeah ofc. anytime really." he said looking down. neither of you moved for a short while until you spoke up. "i should head to bed, but next time maybe i can make something for you and teach you how to actually make a baked ravioli." his head shot up at you insinuating his cooking was in any way "bad". "well if that's what you want to do, than that's what we'll do. goodnight, y/n." he said biting his tongue and leaning in to kiss your cheek. "goodnight, bakugou."

*taps mic*

denki likes making out with you in almost-public.

making out with you while he’s on the phone. he’s biting and sucking in the soft skin of your neck as you bite back whines aching to spill out your mouth while listening to sero rave about a boss he’s trying to beat in elden ring that denki is dodging a fade with in his own game. he pulls off, saying “yeah bro, you’re better than me i’m not even trynna bother that dude.” and his friend laughs in response, continuing his rant. he then goes on mute and immediately devours your lips, gripping your hips as you move your body in sync with his on his lap. when sero asks him a question he unmutes to answer, then goes back on mute until it’s his que to talk again. when sero eventually hangs up, he looks at you with a lovesick expression and shit eating grin.

straight up tongue kissing you in the unisex bathroom of the arcade you and your friends went out to a group. he got tired of trying to control himself for your sake. if it was up to him, he would’ve pulled you on his lap and made out with you right in front of everybody. but, he realizes he needs to have a little decorum. so he decided to do everyone a favor and sneak off with you to finally have you to himself. although, he does get a kick off you trying to pull yourself back together when he leads you back to everyone as if his tongue wasn’t just down your throat.

or even, pulling you into secret corners of the hallway to steal a quick make out session before class. his hands are placed on your waist at the hem of your skirt threatening to go too low, rhythmically sucking on your bottom lip like it’s candy. your arms instinctively wrap around his neck as he gets a taste of your lips before he has to sit in class and act like he doesn’t wanna kiss you again, sitting you on your desk and sucking at your neck like he’s a vampire out for blood. but again– decorum.

This didn’t age well.

These are the men I’d think would pull a Barry Keoghan with you:

bnha/ kirishima, denki, todoroki (my man just wants to have fun) , jirou

hq/ iwaizumi, Tanaka, kurro, bokuto, OIKAWA (he eats up any attention) , tendo

jjk/ gojo, yuta, itodori, choso, toji (IMAGINE HIM IN THAT MV OMFGGGG), Maki,

(The ‘pulling a Barry Keoghan im talking abt is staring in the mv for a song their s/o wrote abt them. #hardlaunch)

IM SO SAD I LITERALLY JUST SPENT THE PAST FIFTEEN MINUTES SCROLLING THRU MY ARCHIVE FOR THIS ONE SERO FIC I READ ONLY FOR ME TO FIND OUT THE PERSON WHO POSTED IT DEACTIVATED :(((((

IM SO SORRYYYYYYY I RLY WANTED TO SHARE IT WITH YOU :(((

OH EM GEEE HATE WHEN THAT HAPPENS!!!!

Thank you so much for the effort tho 🤕💕

Just a couple of silly little guys being gay