“boy Dad Zayne”

when katsuki’s copying your snaps so you pull a move

you sat, scattered across your bedroom with your friends. you decided you should all have a sleepover because you hadn’t hung out as a group in a while. as you all continued to giggle and watch a show on your television screen, your phone lit up.

a notification from katsuki, who you were sending photos of yourself to every couple of minutes. of course, he copied them with ease and without a care in the world.

but suddenly, your eyes widened, and you grinned like the cheshire cat. you had an amazing idea. you held the camera not too far away, and flexed your arm, showing your muscle. you giggled, would katsuki really fall for the trick and send you the same pose back?

less than a minute later, he opened the photo, but tsuyu sat next to you and leaned against her arms behind her. she asked, “are you feeling okay? you don’t appear to be interacting with the group as much.”

you nodded, “i’m okay, i’m just trying to get my boyfriend to do something,” then smiled at her clueless face. she was adorable.

you gained another notification from katsuki, so you clicked it and opened the photo.

jesus christ. his muscles were huge.

his shirt was off, and his bicep had a scar on it, he was looking into the camera with a glint in his red eyes and a smirk on his face. you blushed, and your lips stretched into a smile. you saved the photo to your camera roll, and he immediately texted you a message.

‘glad you think i look that good’

you rolled your eyes and smiled, and suddenly you heard a knock on your dorm door. the room went silent, and mina picked up the remote control and paused the show you were watching. everyone looked at each other, then at you. after a couple of seconds, there was another knock at the door and a sigh. you stood up and timidly walked over to the door, then opened it.

katsuki stood there in a black tank top with a white skull in the middle and sweatpants. his muscles still stood out even in his top and pants, and he smirked down at you, then raised his eyebrows.

you looked back at the quiet room and smiled, “don’t worry guys, it’s just katsuki!”

“y/n, he probably came here to be with you. you can let him in, you don’t have to ask us.” you smiled at jiro’s words, then you squealed and jumped.

your boyfriend didn’t say many words, but you latched onto his bicep and tugged him into your room. he locked the bedroom door then you pushed him onto the bed to watch the show with the girls. you sat crisscrossed with him and switched positions frequently until you were comfortable.

once he laid down on your bed, you immediately followed after him and slung your leg and arm over his body. he groaned and gently pushed your head away when you tried to nuzzle into him, but you whined.

he grinned, knowing he was just trying to irritate you. he then placed his large hand on the back of your head and pulled it back closer to his body, and once everyone was looking away, he kissed your hair.

katsuki would never admit it, but he just wanted to lie down with you. didn’t care much to talk or show you anything, but wanted to be in your presence. you would always be the one to bring his mood up.

words weren’t needed to express his love for you, and vice versa.

but a couple of minutes later, the two of you were passed out, snuggled together in your bed. ochaco stood up from the bean bag and leaned over.

she whispered, “aww, look at those two! they’re adorable, i’ve never seen bakugo like this!” she placed her hands together and spinned.

but mina had a different idea.

“yeah, they’re cute, but eijiro can use this as blackmail, and so can i,” she joked. she took her phone out and made sure the flash was off, before smiling with malicious intent and looking at all the girls. they giggled, and she finally took the photo.

she sent it to eijiro, who texted back, ‘i always knew he was down bad for her’

hope u guys liked this one! tysm for so many likes on my first katsuki post

𐙚 ⋮ᴀᴄᴛ ɪ ꒱ ‧₊˚

⋮ ♯; ⤷ KATSUKI BAKUGO headcanons .ᐟ

⋆˚࿔ what would he be like as your boyfriend?

⊱ ────── {⋆❉⋆} ────── ⊰

⌗ he won’t admit it, but he always keeps an eye on you. if he thinks someone is bothering you, his first instinct is to throw hands, but he reins it in (most of the time) ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ this man is ride or die for you. the second he’s in a relationship, you’re his and he’s yours—no one else exists in his mind ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ he’s not the biggest fan of PDA, but in private? he’s all over you. loves holding you in a way that makes you feel his warmth, whether it’s spooning you from behind or resting a hand on your waist absentmindedly ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ he’s a doer. if you’re feeling down, he’ll yell at you to take care of yourself, but when you’re genuinely sick and he can’t just fix it? he gets frustrated and sulky, pacing around the room while forcing you to drink water like it’s a life-or-death situation. he’ll even let you rest your head on his lap while pretending he totally doesn’t enjoy it ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ before dating, he never thought much about sleep. but after? if you’re not in bed with him, he tosses and turns all night. if he’s away on missions, he hates it because no matter how exhausted he is, sleep just doesn’t hit the same. if you ever find out, he will deny it to his grave ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ he doesn’t go for the usual “words of affirmation” or “acts of service.” instead, his love language is teaching you things. whether it’s self-defense, cooking, or fixing something, if he’s taking the time to teach you his skills, it means he trusts you enough to know what he knows ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ you could be doing the most mundane thing—reading, scrolling on your phone, folding laundry—and he’ll just watch you without realizing it. if you catch him, he’ll grumble and look away, but he was totally zoning out admiring you ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ you wouldn’t expect it, but one day, you’re struggling with a messy ponytail, and he just sighs and fixes it perfectly. turns out, he used to help his mom tie up her hair when he was a kid. he still acts like it’s no big deal, but if you ask him to do it again, he secretly loves it ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ his hands are constantly moving—tapping on the table, against his leg, drumming on random surfaces. but if he’s thinking about you specifically, his fingers will start mimicking the rhythm of your heartbeat (which he totally memorized without realizing) ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ he notices the tiny things. the way you always stretch before standing up, how you hum before you fall asleep, the specific way you take your coffee. if you ever forget something in your routine, he’ll absentmindedly remind you before realizing damn, I really memorized that, huh? ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ that dumb doodle you left on his notes? tucked in his wallet. the random trinket you gave him from a vending machine? sitting on his nightstand. he acts like he doesn’t care, but he never throws away anything that reminds him of you ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ it doesn’t matter if you can lift a building, he is carrying the groceries, the luggage, and anything remotely heavy. you could be a pro hero, and he’d still be like, “shut up and let me do it.” ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ mitsuki loves you, but she also loves embarrassing her son. she’ll tease him about how whipped he is, telling you embarrassing childhood stories while bakugo fumes in the background. secretly, he’s glad she likes you, but he’ll never say it out loud ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ everyone knows bakugo laughs in that aggressive, cocky way. but when he’s with you? sometimes, he lets out a real, genuine, soft laugh that no one else gets to hear. if you ever mention it, he’ll turn bright red and tell you to shut up ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ who can fold laundry faster? who can chop vegetables better? who can get into bed first? he turns everything into a competition, and if you beat him? he’ll sulk for five minutes before demanding a rematch ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ he won’t gush about you outright, but if you do something impressive? his friends will hear about it. “yeah, so what if they did that? they’re badass. of course they pulled it off.” he plays it cool, but everyone knows he’s beyond proud of you. if anyone even slightly doubts your abilities, he’ll shut them down instantly ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

I just think about the way percy jackson kisses. the taste of the salty sea and summer and the beach and sunsets, so sweet like the fruits of the season and like cold water during the hot days. his kisses range from pecks (which is almost never…) to soul-entwining to with everything he has in him. with each, hands roaming your skin beneath your shirt with such diligence and smoothness in comparison to his hands oh-so calloused from years of battles and sword training. and my favorite part is how he knows just exactly how to angle his head to assure he can devour every inch of your mouth in his. tongue running over your bottom lip almost always eliciting some kind of noise from you— just before he coaxes your lips apart and his tongue enters its exploration of your mouth, searching and memorizing the hot cavern of it. and his lips, so so soft like silky pillows and freshly washed blankets. the way he kisses is like he was meant to kiss you and only you— it was his destiny to do this. and he never disappoints in this area of your relationship, ever. it’s safe to say percy jackson is a phenomenal french kisser. <3

DREADED GIFT- Katsuki Bakugou

𖤐 word count: 3.3k

𖤐 synopsis: you felt the need to celebrate your boyfriend, baking a cake for him.

𖤐 warnings: explicit language, fluff, kissing, established relationship, sfw

Normally, you’d be excited to present the gift you’ve arranged for the person. But today was a completely different story. 

Today was April 20.

Katsuki Bakugou’s birthday.

Your boyfriends’s birthday.

The same guy who blew up last year's surprise party, claiming he didn’t do cheesy parties.  A week prior, he had made it clear he wouldn't want his 17th birthday to be celebrated. Nevertheless, you prepared a medium-sized box in black wrapping paper with orange explosions and an orange bow. 

You had been up since around three in the morning, following a recipe for a chocolate-flavoured cake to calculate the right amount of spice powder you needed for a mixed flavour. 

You looked through the cabinets and drawers, looking for a tablespoon that could be used to measure. As you turned around to continue the recipe, you bumped into the batter, causing a little to spill. 

You then grabbed a towel and started to clean the mess, forgetting about the spinning bowl of batter as it fell on your head. Great. You had full-on batter on your hair now. You started the recipe again, having no time to clean the mess on your head. 

About 10 minutes later, you placed the batter in the baking pan, reaching over to the oven, turning it on to 350. Glancing at your phone, it was already 5:29 a.m., so you had a little over an hour and a half to have the cake prepared. 

30 minutes later, you took the cake out of the oven, examining it carefully, trying to find anything wrong with it that you could fix immediately. Placing the pan gently on the counter, you ran over to the fridge and grabbed out the frosting, quickly mixing up the right colors and starting to decorate the cake.

Once satisfied with how you had decorated it, you placed the remaining tubes of frosting back into the fridge, turning back and admiring your work for a moment, suddenly interrupted by your best friend Jirou walking into the kitchen, still rubbing her eyes from sleep. The remaining sleep from her body immediately left when she noticed the mess you had on your head and around the kitchen.

“What are you doing up this early? Better yet, why does the kitchen look like a tornado passed by it?” She asked, walking around the kitchen before turning to you, “It’s Katsuki’s birthday today, and I wanted to make something for him, so here I am. I might as well disappear if he doesn’t even end up liking anything.” you glanced at Jirou, noticing her gaze of the cake.

She took the cake and carefully placed it in the fridge, shutting it closed. “It needs to cool down for a bit too,” she noticed your bummed out face before continuing, “I’m sure he’ll like it, Its Bakugou we’re talking about. You can make a disgusting meal, and he would still eat it if he knew it was you who made it.” 

You simply nodded at her words, hoping it would go like that when the time came to go to his dorm and wish him a happy birthday. “Well, tell me, does this gift look decent enough?” You raised the box so Jirou could examine it. Watching her every expression, before she turned to you. “And what’s in the box?” Her question made you smile.

“It’s a present, why would I tell you what’s in it? Besides, I’d rather give it to him first instead of telling you.” She smiled at you, “Fair enough, well, I’m going to eat breakfast. Do you need help cleaning up your mess? You nodded, grabbing the broom and mop to clean the floor while she cleaned the counter and stored the flour and sugar that you had forgotten to put away.

When you both finished, the kitchen looked cleaner. You let out a sigh as you thanked her, checking the time again, you walked over to the fridge and opened it, taking out the cake. “I’m going to start heading up there.” You said, earning a simple nod in response.

Without another word being exchanged, you grabbed hold of the cake in one hand and the gift in your other. As you walked up the stairs, you felt the stickiness of the batter that had fallen on you earlier still on your head. It was too late now to fix it. You clicked on the button and waited for the elevator and waited for the doors to open.

You stepped inside and pressed on ‘floor 4’, where his dorm was. When the doors opened again, you stepped out and started making your way towards his dorm, the nerves beginning to get to you. What if he hated the cake you made, or if he dismissed your effort and called it stupid? 

There were so many things that could go wrong in this moment, but you were willing to take the risk if it meant it would make is day a little better. As you stepped towards his room and stood in front of it, your hand reached for the handle, but immediately stopped when you heard familiar voices already inside.

The friend group had already beaten you to it. The mixed yells with quiet remarks could be heard. You didn’t want to just burst in with the way you were looking, especially with the things you had planned to tell him privately. You’d simply have to do it later at a better time. 

From inside his room, Kirishima, Mina, Sero, Kamanari, and Izuku could be heard. It was obvious that they planned to celebrate his birthday with a party.

“We have a whole day planned out already!” 

“Sato even agreed to make the cake for later! C’mon, man!” 

“If you idiots think I'm going to join your ridiculous party, think again.” You immediately recognized who it was just from the tone in their voice. You let out a sigh as you glanced at the door, then at the cake and gift in your hands.

He’d be fine.

Without a second thought, you turned around and made your way to your dorm, unlocking the door and disappearing into your room. A few hours passed, and it was a little past 9 a.m. The birthday cake sat on your desk, beside it the wrapped box, having been forgotten and erased from your mind in that moment.

He was asking where you were. Your heart skipped a beat at the notification, almost immediately stopping what you were doing and thought for a moment before typing a quick response back, shutting off your phone after sending the message.

Just as you placed your phone down on your bedside table, you heard a notification immediately after. Reaching out, you unlocked it and simply stared at the message.

Sighly softly, you stood up from your bed, glancing at the cake and gift from your attempt earlier. You grabbed the cake and box once again in each hand, your phone tucked in your waistband as you opened the door and walked out, closing it slowly behind you. 

As you made your way to his dorm, you mentally prepared for you to be greeted with his annoyed expression, you could already make out what he’d say the second he noticed what you had in your hands. He probably won’t even bother to acknowledge it. 

Standing in front of his dorm, you stared for a moment before you softly knocked on the wooden door, bracing yourself for the conversation that would come next. Hearing the soft click of someone opening the door, you glanced up to meet his crimson eyes.

“Why didn’t you come by thi–”

“Happy Birthday Kats,”  you muttered, cutting off his rambling before continuing, "I know you don't like your birthday getting celebrated and all that stuff, but I wanted to do something nice for you, but you don’t necessarily have to like it.”

As you waited for his response, you noticed the way his eyes glanced at your extended hands holding the cake, and you lit up the candles that had the number ‘17’ stamped on, along with the following words: ‘Happy Birthday Katsuki!’. Hearing a ‘tch’ escape his lips made you nervous, knowing it was a habit he’d do when annoyed. Hoping that wasn’t the case.

“You did all this for me? You know I don’t–” he sighed, pinching his nose, about to say something, but something changed in him when he noticed your happy expression, your lips curled into a soft smile. He’d hate himself if he ever said anything that didn’t satisfy your mood.

He looked away and thought for a moment before turning back to you. “I– What I’m trying to say is… I don’t mind it. All this bullshit crap you made for my birthday, I don’t mind it, as long as it comes from you. Alright? So don’t get any silly ideas in the pretty head of yours that I’m gonna yell your ear off for no reason. At least not today.”

You noticed the boy's face immediately heated up slightly after the small confession, trying to brush it off by looking away. You continued to smile as you softly spoke, “Do you want me to sing Happy Birthday?” you asked, holding out the cake, interrupted by a snort. “I don’t need your singing to damage my ears.”

The boy simply smirked as your smile fell into a pout, looking at him annoyingly, “Just make your wish and blow out the candles.” Without another word, he thought for a moment before blowing them out, the soft smell of smoke filling your nose. You simply pushed past him and placed the cake on his desk.

You walked back out and grabbed the box, extending it out to him. Noticing he was about to protest, you stopped him. “Just take it, there's no point in arguing with me.” Your fingers slightly brushed with each other as he took the box out of your hands, looking at the wrapping for a moment before he started opening it.

His eyes widened when he realized what it was. A photo album decorated on the outside with stickers and colored wording is visible. When opening it, he noticed the many photos of both of you, mostly just of the dates and small hangouts you both have done when you were still friends and dating.

“Do you like it? There’s still a lot of empty pages to put future memories.” You asked, glancing up at him, noticing his eyes focused on the album in front of him. He simply nodded, “I like it, there’s thought that was put into it, and I know you worked hard on it. You didn’t need to do any of this y’know.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words, knowing these were some of the only times he’d be sincere. “It’s my favourite boy's birthday, of course I was going to do something for it, silly. Try the cake, I want to know if it tastes good or if I'm poisoning you.”

He let out a huff, rolling his eyes as he glanced at the cake sitting on his desk. “You sure it’s not all just sugar? You’re going to give me a sugar rush with all this.” His fingers dug into the sugary pastry as he grabbed a piece and popped it in his mouth. You analyzed his expression like a mad scientist, hoping you wouldn’t poison the poor boy with your newly learned baking skills.

“Kats, say something, does it taste bad? Does it hurt to chew? You can spit it out if it doe–” 

“Nah, this is the best cake I’ve ever tasted. You can taste the spiciness, but also not too much that you can't taste the chocolate. You nailed the recipe, this shit probably better than what they sell at stores.” You listened to every word he said, feeling somewhat accomplished that Katsuki liked your cake, hell, maybe even loved. “Well, I’m glad you liked it, I’ve been up since three in the morning trying to make it–” He cut you off as he glanced at your scalp, “Is that why there's batter on your head? Don’t tell me your stupidass dumped it on yourself.”

You let out a laugh, smiling at him, “It was an accident, but it’s fine, I'll shower later and it’ll come off.” Glancing at him, you sighed, “We should start heading downstairs–” He looked at you, confused. “The fuck are we going downstairs for?” You pointed towards the door as you spoke.

“Well, y’know the party they’re throwing for your birthday, aren’t you going to go?” The ash blonde immediately shook his head, letting out a sigh, and he placed the photo album on his desk. “Nah, rather spend it with you, cuddling or whatever.” You looked at him annoyingly, “Katsuki, they took time out of their day to organize that– hey!”

You were rudely interrupted by him picking you up and throwing you on the bed with him, pulling you closer by the waist as the boy shoved his face into your neck, taking in your comforting scent with a soft sigh.

“It’s not my damn problem, there faults for even thinking I’d enjoy a stupid party.” You gave up trying to convince him to go, snuggling closer to him as he intertwined his legs with yours, having you completely hooked onto the bed with him.

“Hey, look at me.” You glanced at him, wondering what it was he wanted, but it was immediately answered when he took your face and pressed his chapped lips against yours, kissing you. As expected, you melted into the kiss and pulled away a while after, the feeling of his lips kissing your entire face as he spoke. “Mh, love you, idiot.”

One thing is for sure, he wouldn't be letting you go from his grasp any time soon.

Pregnancy: Iwaizumi

The second the double doors of the weight room open, it’s like you’ve stepped into a different universe—a world of metal clanks, low grunts, chalk-dusted air, and the constant thud of iron plates hitting the floor. And now, slicing clean through that rhythmic storm of testosterone and hyper-focus, is you: very pregnant, slightly annoyed, and holding the wallet your husband managed to leave behind on the kitchen counter this morning. You didn’t think twice about walking the ten minutes over from your place. It’s not like you hiked a mountain—you waddled across pavement in sneakers. But by the way the entire Olympic volleyball team turns toward you in unison, you might as well be carrying a live grenade instead of a baby.

“WOAHHH—LOOK OUT! Civilian on the floor!” Bokuto’s voice booms across the room, sweaty hair sticking up, arms mid-air like you’d broken the rules of gravity just by showing up.

Atsumu, flat on a bench press with Kageyama spotting him, twists his head far too dramatically toward you and lets out a long, low whistle. “Ain’t no civilian, Bo. That’s Iwaizumi’s wife. And she’s lookin’ like she’s about to drop that baby right here in front of the dumbbells.”

You don’t even get the chance to sigh before you spot him—Hajime, towel around his neck, clipboard tucked under one arm, halfway through barking cues at someone doing squats. His head snaps toward you the second he hears Bokuto’s yell, and his entire body goes rigid. The clipboard hits the bench with a clatter. The towel is forgotten. His mouth moves, but there’s no time for words—he’s already weaving through machines and teammates, practically charging toward you like the floor itself might crumble under your feet.

“You walked here? Alone?” he demands as soon as he’s within a few feet, eyes scanning you from head to toe like he’s checking for bruises.

“I’m not made of paper, Hajime. I walked from the apartment. Not across a battlefield.” You hold the wallet up between two fingers, giving him a pointed look. “You left this on the counter, by the way.”

He takes it, but barely spares it a glance. His attention is completely on you—his wife, his very-pregnant-wife, standing in the middle of the Olympic team’s weight room surrounded by free weights, kettlebells, unstable mats, and volleyball players who think balance training on BOSU balls is a personality trait.

“This place isn’t safe for you,” he mutters under his breath, eyes narrowing at a barbell someone just let crash onto the floor nearby. “You shouldn’t be around this equipment. There’s too many ways you could trip, or get knocked, or—hell—slip on a chalk patch.”

You raise your eyebrows and gesture around you. “I am standing still, Hajime. On flat ground. Wearing shoes. Holding a wallet. This is not a life-threatening activity.”

His lips flatten into a tight line. “You’re thirty-eight weeks. You should be sitting, preferably somewhere padded, with a bottle of water and a snack within reach.”

You blink. “Are you reading off a checklist right now?”

He doesn’t answer.

At that moment, Komori jogs up with his usual bounce, sweat still gleaming on his forehead and a towel slung haphazardly over his shoulder. “Wait—this is your wife? The one we keep hearing about?”

“He doesn’t talk about her,” Kiryu calls from the dumbbell rack, not even bothering to look up. “He says stuff like ‘my wife made soup’ and ‘my wife needs pickles.’ That’s it. That’s all we get.”

You offer a small, amused smile and rest both hands on your stomach. “Hi. Yes. I’m Soup-and-Pickles. Thirty-eight weeks along. Full of baby. And apparently one bad step away from being put in a medically induced nap.”

There’s a chorus of laughter, though it’s mixed with soft whistles of awe as more of the team gravitates toward you. Aran strolls over with a light smile, while Hinata’s practically vibrating behind him.

“You really came all the way here?” Aran asks.

“It’s ten minutes from home,” you reply, shooting a glance up at your husband who still looks like he’s trying to map the safest escape route out of the gym for you. “I’m pregnant, not cursed.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Iwaizumi mutters. “You’re standing next to iron weights in Converse. That’s a hostile environment.”

You roll your eyes, adjusting the strap on your bag. “They’re high-tops. Extra support.”

Before he can scold you further, Hinata suddenly leans forward with stars in his eyes. “Is the baby kicking?”

“Oh yeah,” you nod, hand moving instinctively to the right side of your belly. “She’s training for nationals, I think. My ribs are her new personal practice net.”

“Can I feel?” Komori blurts out, his expression open and hopeful.

You’re about to say yes, but Hajime moves before you can answer, shifting his stance ever so slightly to put his body between you and Komori with the quiet intensity of a dad who’s already protective before the baby’s even born.

“She’s not a mascot,” he says flatly.

You place your palm on his chest. “Hajime. It’s fine.”

His eyes flicker to yours. He relents with a small sigh, stepping aside like it physically pains him to do so.

Komori gently places his hand on your stomach, and when the baby kicks, his face lights up like someone handed him a puppy. “Oh my god. That’s incredible.”

Kageyama peers over curiously. “Does it feel weird?”

“Like an alien living under your skin,” you say cheerfully. “And sometimes the alien cries when you don’t feed it grilled cheese at exactly 3 a.m.”

“Sounds terrifying,” Sakusa mumbles nearby, adjusting a band on his wrist.

“Iwaizumi,” Yaku calls from where he’s doing banded lunges, “you better give that kid rock-solid calves. I don’t care how. It’s your duty.”

“Oh, we’re starting this already?” you laugh. “Pressure before she’s even out of the womb?”

“Oh, we’ve been taking bets,” Suna says, finally looking up from his phone with the laziest smile. “Due date, hair color, position they’ll play.”

“Definitely not libero,” Bokuto adds, puffing his chest. “That baby’s got outside hitter energy.”

“I swear to god,” Iwaizumi mutters, dragging a hand down his face.

You press a soft kiss to his jaw and whisper just loud enough for him to hear, “You love it.”

He doesn’t answer. Just wraps one arm around your shoulders, pulling you gently into his side, hand resting low and protective on the curve of your stomach. He kisses the top of your head. Quiet. Steady.

You nudge him lightly and lift a brow. “Still mad I walked into the weight room?”

He looks down at you, expression flat. “I am always mad when you walk into a room with flying metal plates and men with the coordination of blindfolded rhinos.”

“I brought you your wallet.”

“And almost gave me a stroke in the process.”

You grin, dig into his pocket, and pull out one of his protein bars. “And I’m stealing your snack.”

“…Unbelievable.”

Gimme Kiss

You kiss him and then wipe it off

Zayne was about to leave for work when he kissed your forehead and you wiped it off. He stood there in confusion. Why would you do that?

“Im leaving for work.” He says slowly, his eyes not leaving your figure. “Okay! Have a great day, love you.” You kiss his lips only to wipe it off again.

The stare he gave you could put you in the hospital. He kissed your forehead again to which you wiped it off in disgust. You wiped your hands on your pants after as well. He just stared at you blankly, he doesn’t have time for this nor does he enjoy this.

The room felt icy as you look at your husband whose evol is 2 seconds from taking you out. You jump at his icy stare before rushing over to him and peppering him in kisses. He sighs in content his eyes fluttering shut as he finally places a sweet kiss on your lips.

“Have a good day!” You smile nervously as you fix his tie.

That’s what he thought.

You kissed him softly and stepped back to wipe it off. He tilted his head in confusion. Why are you wiping away his kiss? Did his breath stink? Did he stink?

“Why are you doing that?” He asks genuinely. He breathes into his hand sniffing it. He just brushed his teeth what was the issue?

“Doing what?” You ask genuinely confused as you put hand sanitizer on. You went to walk away before you were pulled back by his evol. He’s immediately peppering you in kisses every time you wipe it off. You are basically being suffocated in wet kisses, you think you might even drown.

“If you wipe it off again I’ll do worse.” He threatens as he’s dipping you. You were surely getting a core workout in this position. Your whiny tone breaks through his muffled kisses, “It’s wet!”

You unconsciously wipe off the wet kisses making you freeze. Do you know what you got in return? He licked your whole cheek like a damn dog. You were so frozen in disgust you didn’t even notice he kissed your lips and left for work.

You were never doing that again.

You placed a kiss on his lips before his meeting. He smiled softly at you which was immediately wiped off his face when you did what you did. You wiped your lips harshly before turning to walk away. His evol engulfs you as he pulls you back to him. He kisses you passionately leaving you dizzy.

“Now, try wiping that off.” His rich laugh filling the hallway before he places on last kiss on the crown of your head.

You were so dazed that you could barely register what he said. You were stuck in the hallway wondering what went wrong with your prank.

You wiped off about 12 kisses at this point and if you thought that was stopping this bunny you were wrong. Every single one you wiped he replaced. Not an ounce of annoyance from his side. It was just this intense stare waiting for you to wipe it off again.

“Xavier please.” You begged sternly but he refused to stop if you were just going to cancel it out. You were more surprised at how relentless he was. Usually people left someone alone if the problem kept occurring but not Xavier.

“Then stop wiping it off.” He countered and in the end he won because he pinned you down so you wouldn’t wipe it off again. As revenge he drowned you in kisses.

He’s dramatic so when you did it the second time he assumed you hated him. He got on his hands and knees and gagged and dry heaved. You just stared at him with wide eyes. There was no way he was doing this right now.

“She hates me! She wants me to die!” He mumbled to himself making him look crazy.

What fixed it? Kissing him correctly only to end with him kissing you over 800 times. A bit of an exaggeration? Perhaps but your face felt like it was burning at this point.

“Rafayel, enough!” You yelled but that didn’t stop that fish from kissing you anywhere else.

You asked, I delivered 🤍

“you’re the only person i would feel safe trying this with” mmmhppfngmmgofmgmmmppppphhhhhmmmmgggmmmmm

Yes, u’re my baby.

iwaizumi loves a smart girl who yaps!! doesn’t matter what major/job field you’re in, the second you open your mouth he is LOCKED in, ready to marvel at the string of information that flows out of your mouth

Birthday dumps

BestFriend!K. Bakugou

𖦹*ੈ‧ 𓇼 ₊˚𓆝 When you’re at that point of your birthday everything seems to be against you, your best friend isn’t

A/n: Started making this during MY birthday dumps lol (Photos may look funky bcs I'm doing this on my Ipad!) || Masterlist

You never meant to be such a Debby downer, especially on your own birthday. But sometimes it couldn't be helped. It felt like a lot of pressure, and maybe a time to grieve the age you left, to grieve what could have been, rather than to celebrate what was to come. You know that its backwards thinking, but it was rooted into you.

It was wrong to lash out on him. You knew that. But to be fair, it was humiliating that everyone seemed to have forgotten it was your birthday. And even worse when they saw your stories but didn't even reply to it or like it wishing you a happy birthday. It hurt.

You couldn't help but scream internally at the pet name as you chucked your phone away from you. You were running purely on fumes and adrenaline... but maybe, just maybe, this birthday wouldn't be like the rest.