Thinking....about Bsd Men With A Gf Who's Just...smaller Than Them...(I'm Literally 5'1)

Dazai and female s/o being each other first time?

✿ 》Those Promises Of Yours.

╰⧼ 🪻 note.. ⧽ ; I got you anon. coming right up. [ holy shit zai update. apologies for my absence once again, writing hasn't been a priority recently but I'll try to start up again :) feel free 2 send in vague concepts / thirsts pls ]

╰⧼ 🌙 contents.. ⧽ ; dazai x f!reader, nsfw, slight corruption from dazais end but its still all consensual, vague mention of self harm once, dazai can't keep his fuckin promises, slightly rough sex, no aftercare but it's hinted at + he's soft at the end anyway. I suck at dialogue.

dazai osamu was a womaniser, a player anything but loyal.

that was something that everyone had learnt to know and only some could bring to love. this fact wasn't foreign to you, and neither was it ignored. though you certainly hadn't anticipated that he himself was a virgin.

so you found yourself in his lap in your apartment. he'd refused to take you back to his, claiming "a princess such as yourself should have the luxury of familiarity," but you could've easily called his bluff with the stench of alcohol on his breath. the place was probably ridden with bottles and signs of his lowest mental points.

he'd never been good at being vaunrable anyway.

dazai fumbles with your shirt, his hands shakily trying to unbutton them in a way that would hopefully erase the concept he didn't know what he was doing. you took it upon yourself to close your hand over his, giving him a soft smile, which he returned. you could almost smell the anxiety dripping from his body. was he sweating?

"it must be the drugs," he mumbles, finding an excuse. his voice is hoarse, tense, even. nothing like the usual confidence he carried himself with; his tone had never been anything but smug. and you liked this side of him. you loved it.

"you're sober." you respond, your tongue had carried nothing but truthfulness this entire time. and you were nervous too. the vaunrability that was required of both of you was enough to keep your mouth without a lie. he laughs breathily, sliding your shirt from your shoulders and unclasping your bra with only mild difficulty.

"I could be masking, no?" the brunette begins, his hand sliding down under your skirt to tap at the inside of your thigh. your breath hitches. "I've always been rather good at hiding when I'm high. you should know that." you shake your head. he didn't smell like any drug. just him. just dazai.

"you're being too conscious to be high." you respond, working to undress him back. it'd be too awkward if you were the only one shirtless, your mind wasn't foggy yet. but you still couldn't get rid of the ache between your legs. he was all you needed.

dazai doesn't respond, merely wrapping a hand around your neck and pulling you into a kiss. he was acting, you could feel it. none of his gestures were the same as how you'd see him treat the ladies he'd woo at the bar. it felt real, raw. you kiss him back.

he helps you undress him, you find yourself in a state where the only covers you both possess are your underwear. completely at each others mercy, vaunrable.

he wasn't sure if he hated it or not.

dazai brings a hand down to pull your underwear aside, collecting your wetness with his middle finger. it almost felt like he himself was adjusting to your anatomy, figuring where he'd have to touch to make you feel good. he'd always spoken about wanting to give you the best experience he could.

you wince at the intrusion as he slides his finger into you, feeling him bend down to gently kiss your forehead as he worked you apart like woolen scarfs in the autumn. the warmth of a promise to carry you through to the next spring. an unvoulentary whimper leaves your lips as he brushes against a certain spot, and you swear his eyes darken a shade.

dazai had promised himself he'd make sure it wouldn't hurt for you. he promised that he'd gently ease you in. he'd promised a lot of things. but after seeing you like this, you might as well slice his pinky finger clean off.

he doesn't quite know what's coming over him when he lays you down on the couch, pulling your underwear completely down and tossing them somewhere in the room, he didn't care. he slides a second finger into you and almost lets out a gasp at how you tighten.

he'd promised to be gentle.

"osamu." you whisper, your voice almost foreign to you. his eyes met yours, then did his lips. you'd felt how desperate he'd become, sloppy open mouthed kisses where his tongue tried to cherish your taste for all eternity. maybe calling him by a name he'd never heard wasn't the best idea.

he pulls away, pulling his fingers out and making quick work of shuffling his boxers off. gently sliding his cock in-between the warmth of your folds, daring to slide in without the prep he knew you would've needed.

the prep he promised.

he meets your gaze, noticing the slight fear in your eyes. he knew it'd hurt you, dazai knew damn well the pain the stretch would cause. but something about those eyes of yours, something about the look of fear. it was almost like he didn't care. he didn't mind breaking a promise.

"..hold your breath." He mutters, gradually sliding himself into you, and you let out a whine, trying to hold your breath like instructed. he felt your nails dig into his back. they'd be nice marks to tattoo permanently, maybe you'd be a healthier method of drawing his own blood. his pelvis pressed against yours

he smiled as you let out a shaky exhale, staying still to allow you at least a small adjustment period. cupping your cheeks as a tear fell down your cheek. fuck. he couldn't even find it in him to feel bad anymore. you were so warm.

you'd only managed to focus your eyes to look up at him for a second, before clenching them shut as he snapped his hips against yours. it stung, you could feel the trickle of blood.

"ah- 'samu-.. wait-!" was all you could manage to say, hearing his breath get heavier as he set himself a pace. he wasn't waiting for you to adjust anymore, he wasn't waiting for anything. if he could prioritise himself once, this was the time.

"shh-.. shh.. 'tll feel good. I promise. fuck-" his voice broke, moving a hand to hold onto your thigh, pushing it up to meet your shoulder. you were never this flexible, it almost stung. but you couldn't do anything but trust him.

and something about it did feel good. even as the burn hit you from more areas then you would've liked; something about the desperation behind how dazai fucked you and how he was using you to relieve his stress. it felt good. you enjoyed to be used like this.

your mind fogged, feeling him hit that one spot inside you repeatedly, you were struggling to breathe. struggling to think straight, struggling to focus on anything but the man inside of you. and dazai seemed the same. his mouth half open and bangs out of order, hanging in front of his eyes. you could hear his heavy breaths and faint whines. and it only turned you on further.

your nails dug into his back, the only sensation you processed was his thumb rubbing your clit as you hit your high, chanting out his name like a mantra as he chuckled, his thrusts becoming rougher before he buried himself deep into you, an unfamiliar warmth filling your abdomen. your vision going white.

you almost blacked out for a moment.

"..sweetheart?" a sweet voice called out as you regained your ability to see. dazai's arms were shaking, obviously struggling to keep himself pinned up over you. his eyes were softer, kinder. a man you barely knew. there was a shine of concern in them.

"..are you okay? shit- did I go too far? 'm sorry.. you felt so good.. you're a good girl.." and all you did in response was smile. he'd done enough, he'd always be enough. though the stickiness between your thighs and loss of fullness as he pulled out was mildly discomforting.

"mmhm.. im fine." you reply, feeling him sit himself back, pulling you up and into his arms. pressing you close to him and peppering you with kisses. "I love you.. s'much.. my baby.. im sorry.. i know I broke my promise. i'll get you cleaned up.."

you just smiled. maybe this broken promise wasn't so bad after all.

between bites and blushes

synopsis: class 1-a speculates about your secret relationship. as the teasing continues, a small slip reveals the truth, leaving everyone stunned—and katsuki annoyed.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader

class 1-a buzzes with speculation as you sit among your classmates in the common room, a warm lunch spread out before you.

whispers ripple through the table, each voice eager to share their theories about your love life. you smile, pretending not to notice the heightened interest.

“who do you think y/n is dating?” kirishima asks, leaning forward with a bright smile. “I mean, she’s been acting kind of secretive lately.”

“yeah, and she never talks about him,” kaminari adds, his eyes wide with curiosity. “it’s gotta be someone from a different class, right?”

midoriya furrows his eyebrows. “maybe it’s someone in class 1-b? I’ve seen her talking to some of them during training.”

you chuckle softly to yourself. you’ve been keeping your relationship with katsuki under wraps, wanting to enjoy it without the pressure of everyone’s scrutiny.

as if sensing their curiosity, katsuki sits down beside you, his presence immediate and commanding. he slams his tray on the table, causing a small shake, and grabs his bowl of spicy ramen.

“what are you losers even yammering about?” he asks.

“oh, just talking about y/n’s mystery boyfriend!” kaminari blurts out, his grin mischievous. “you know, the one she’s too secretive to talk about!”

katsuki narrows his eyes, looking between you and kaminari, as if he’s weighing how much to care. you can’t help but smile at the situation.

“you guys should really focus on your training instead of my dating life,” you say lightly, enjoying the way katsuki shifts slightly in his seat, the faintest hint of annoyance crossing his features.

after a few minutes of banter, katsuki pushes his ramen aside to make room for dessert—an assortment of mochi he’d been saving.

you watch as kaminari, with his usual absent-mindedness, leans over to grab a spoonful of katsuki’s ramen while katsuki’s attention is diverted.

“hey, what are you doing?” you call out, but it’s too late.

kaminari shovels the food into his mouth, a blissful look on his face. the moment he registers what he’s just done, his eyes widen in horror. “uh, oh...”

katsuki whips around, his expression darkening as he realizes his precious ramen has been tampered with. “hey! what the hell did you just do?” he roars, a vein in his forehead twitching with irritation.

kaminari’s face pales. “I-I thought it was just a taste! it looked really good!”

“looks good? you think that gives you the right to just take my food?” katsuki yells, rising from his seat, quirk already sparking at his fingertips.

the common room goes silent, all eyes glued to the impending chaos. kirishima grabs kaminari’s arm, pulling him back instinctively. “dude, you might want to apologize before he goes off!”

kaminari stammers, “I-I’m sorry! it was an accident!”

katsuki marches over, and in a flurry of furious energy, he pushes kaminari back, delivering a quick, sharp punch to his shoulder. “next time, ask before you eat something that isn’t yours, you dumbass!”

the rest of the class watches in a mix of awe and nervousness as kaminari scrambles to defend himself, stumbling back to his seat, where he winces in exaggerated pain.

“man, you really care about your food, huh?” kirishima laughs nervously, though the humor is tinged with apprehension. “I wouldn’t want to be on your bad side!”

katsuki grumbles something unintelligible, his gaze shifting back to you. you can’t help but giggle at the absurdity of the situation.

days pass, and the class is still buzzing with excitement over kaminari’s mishap. speculation over your love life continues to swirl, but you remain tight-lipped, enjoying the mystery and the quiet joy of your relationship with katsuki.

then, one day, as you sit in the common room with katsuki, you eye his leftovers sitting on the coffee table. he’s absorbed in a training video, and you can’t resist the temptation.

you reach over and take a bite of his remaining ramen, savoring the rich flavors.

katsuki glances over. “y/n,” he warns.

you flash him a playful grin. “just having a little taste! you don’t mind, do you?”

his expression softens slightly, and he shakes his head. “if you’re hungry then just tell me, so I can make you more.”

you grin, warmth flooding through you at his casual offer. “aww, you’d do that?”

“of course! just don’t go stealing my food like some idiot,” he replies, crossing his arms, but there’s a softness in his tone that makes you smile.

just then, the rest of class 1-a filters into the room, their curious eyes darting between you and katsuki.

kaminari, still nursing his bruised pride, can’t help but speak up. “so, you’re not gonna beat her up for eating your food?” he asks, a teasing lilt in his voice.

katsuki looks at him, utterly perplexed. “what kind of jackass beats up his girlfriend?” he retorts, his expression a mix of confusion and annoyance.

a heavy silence descends over the room, the weight of his words hanging in the air. your classmates exchange stunned glances, eyes wide with disbelief.

the realization hits them like a wave, each one processing the implication of katsuki's casual admission.

“oh, that’s why you’ve been in a good mood lately—” midoriya blurts out, his eyes going wide with understanding.

katsuki’s face flushes, and he instinctively pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as if to shield you from their astonished gazes.

“stay out of our business!” he yells, then he points at midoriya, “especially you!”

the room erupts into a flurry of shocked voices, each member of class 1-a grappling with the sudden revelation. uraraka’s mouth drops open in disbelief. “wait, you guys are actually together?!”

kirishima’s grin grows even wider, and he nudges katsuki’s arm playfully. “dude, that’s awesome! I didn’t see that coming!”

you can’t help but laugh at the chaos, your heart swelling with affection for katsuki. you think that that nobody is noticing that katsuki’s hands are crackling, and that his eyes are picking his targets.

you figure that you won’t tell them, since, hey, good chaos is healthy every once in a while.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

“And the winner of the UA Sports Festival for his third year in a row, Katsuki Bakugo!”

The frequency of Present Mic’s voice reverbs through the stadium, mixing with the roar of the crowd as the realization sets in — you lost. But you didn’t go down without a fight, pushing yourself and Bakugo to your absolute limits at almost an hour long duel. You assume he’s standing proudly on the other side of the arena, hands on his hips with that cocky smirk of his as everyone celebrates him for claiming the top spot once more…but no.

He’s running, sprinting over to you.

You’re on your feet right as he bursts into your personal bubble, arms wrapping around your waist and picking you up effortlessly. He spins the two of you, a genuine boyish grin on his face underneath the dirt and sweat, his celebratory cheers echoing in your ears.

“Katsuki!” You chuckle when he puts you back on your feet. “The hell are you doing? I lost, go get your trophy!”

Bakugo shakes his head and flicks your forehead. “Already got it.”

multi-character drabble.

includes the seven minutes in heaven trope, breeding, words like slut, stupid, dumb, idiot, and adult themes so, mdni.

his cum is already dripping down your shivering legs, hasn't it been past seven minutes anyway?

ah, who cares right now? being bred by this large man, was more important than anything else. his hot cum still being plunged into you as he thrusts in a few more times, for good measure. "a-ah, no! 'm still sensitive-aah!" he scoffed, this time, dragging your waist down to his pelvis as you grabbed the shelf to support you again.

"y'er such a slut, b-being so g-goddamn loud for no reason," he muttered, staring at the mixed orgasm oozing out of your cunt. 'ts your fault! you wanted to say, but all you could do was gasp and whine as he suddenly took his cock out and quickly replaced it with his fingers. his breath shaking as he stuffed his cum back inside of you, was he trying to get you pregnant?

"y'er so dumb, y/n...s-stupid girl." he groaned as you grinded back into him, making his cock slowly stand up again..."wan' you...p-please..."your grip still solid on the shelves. "k-keep g-getting y'erself in t-trouble, mmph-then complain 'bout it, idiot." he whispered, shushing you, as his cock slipped in with ease, your loud whimpers and moans echoing in the little store room.

"your pussy feels so warm 'n, snug, aah-i, jus' wanna be here forever,."

toji, bakugo, nagi, barou, atsumu, eren, wc!kunigami, gojo, uni au!sukuna, suna + your favs <3

© starreo 2023. do not copy, translate or repost .

(⁠ʘ⁠ᗩ⁠ʘ⁠’⁠)

dazai osamu is the type to say “just the tip, i promise” and somehow will end up fucking you so good you that you can’t help but too drool on yourself and cream all over his cock.

he might be the love of my life

Underneath the stars, looking for a sign — d. osamu

synopsis. dazai stops by your apartment well past midnight, seeking out to you for solace

content. pm!dazai, pm!reader, fem!reader, angst(?), reverse comfort, unestablished relationship, a mention of double suicide

notes. my writing makes me want to sink six feet underground cuz this looked better in my head :,)

dazai thinks he shouldn’t be here.

not only was it past midnight but he has never appeared out of blue like this on your doorstep either.

with a quiet breath he knocks on your door. a moment passes and nothing happens. he expected this because why would you be awake right now? this must be his last chance to leave and the temptation to do so grows with each second. dazai doesn’t see a point in knocking for a second time if you really were asleep. yeah, he should go, stop bothering you and get a hold of himself. just what was he even—

as dazai is about to turn around, he hears the sound of fiddling from the door lock and freezes in place. were you not asleep? 

the door opens and he’s greeted by your noticeably sleepy figure. so you actually heard his one time knocking through your slumber.

“osamu?” you break the silence with your soft, somewhat confused tone. while he did hear you say his name, all his mind could focus was on you. god how did you always manage to look so perfect? your hair is rather messy, your face seemed tired, you were wearing an oversized shirt with pyjama shorts that had strawberries on it. all of that and you still looked breathtaking to him. he then quickly realises that he needs to say something.

“hey, sorry i woke you up.” dazai responds shortly, hoping you didn’t notice his staring. you blink once then twice, his words not giving you any sort of explanation. “did something happen.? it’s the middle of the night right now…” you question while slightly leaning against the doorframe. he can hear the sleep in your voice. 

“well, i guess i was wondering if you were feeling up for a double suicide?” a familiar, subtle yet playful smile appears on his lips, his tone calm. it doesn’t phase you in the least. your brows furrow and you give him an odd look, not falling for his antics.

“you think i’ll actually believe that? what’s the real reason?” you respond with a tired sigh yet the small concern is there. of course you wouldn’t fall for that, you knew him better than anyone else. but it was worth a try.

dazai isn’t certain what answer to give you right away. he swears his mind has gone blank the moment you appeared before him. 

“can i stay here tonight?” he asks instead, dodging the question. his voice came out softer than he expected and he’s sure he seems pathetic now, the regret coming here slowly returning.

your brows raise a little in surprise. you were still sure something is up but the way how different he was acting from his usual self made you even more worried.

“you can but I can’t guarantee that my couch is the comfiest thing to sleep on.” you say after a moment, a yawn escaping past your lips afterwards. dazai lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. he couldn’t bring himself to care where he was supposed to sleep, if it was at your apartment that alone is already enough for him.

he comes inside and when he makes it to the living room, you speak up: “i’ll get you a blanket and a pillow.” you mention before going to the bedroom.

dazai returns his gaze to your living room, noticing all the small parts of you decorating the space: different scented candles on your window sills, fairy lights hanging on the wall, a phone charger laying on the floor, a vase of lilies placed on the table and next to it a plate with a few muffins on it. reminds dazai of the time you told him how you sometimes liked to bake in your free time and that he should definitely taste them on another day. you really had a bright personality for someone who works for the port mafia.

even from far away and the room still being rather dark, he could tell they looked delicious and probably tasted even better. dazai believes anything made by you would simply be perfect. he has seen the way your eyes shine whenever you talk about things you’re passionate about and he feels like he could listen to you forever. just your voice was enough to make his day better.

you come back with the bed linen that you promised to get, setting it down on the couch. you almost immediately notice dazai’s glance directed to your muffins and a smile grows on your face.

“go ahead and try it, i promise they’re the best muffins i have ever made.” you say with a pleased tone, clearly proud of yourself. he turns his gaze back to you, letting out a soft chuckle. “i’m sure they are, i just don’t really have an appetite right now.” he’s aware that he hasn’t eaten anything in the past few hours because he just can’t bring himself to do so.

but dazai regretted saying that instantly, seeing how your smile faltered.

“that’s fine.” you tell him calmly and shrug it off but he knew that wasn’t entirely true. he really hoped you didn’t take this the wrong way since the last thing he’d want is to upset you. his lips part to say something but no words come out. however, you have already decided to change the topic.

“so, are you going to tell me why you’re actually here?” your eyes are tender yet a little serious at the same time as you look at him. you really weren’t letting that question go but he couldn’t blame you. you had every right to ask that.

a moment of silence passes before dazai replies: “felt like it.” it’s not like he can tell you the real reason. he’s not ready to explain how corrupted his thoughts were back at his dull and cold shipping container, how his own mind started overwhelming him and how he needed to leave from there just so he could breathe normally again. everything seemed meaningless and tiring before the thought of you entered his head. 

he found the fact that thinking about you helped him calm down kind of ridiculous. over time he has gotten more attached to you than he likes to admit. you are the only person who has managed to get this close to his heart, heart that he thought was incapable of feeling anything other than emptiness.

your features softened after hearing him. dazai is not sure why because surely you have no idea what he was feeling. did his expression give him away? he hopes not.

“if you don’t want to tell me then just say so, okay?” dazai will never comprehend how understanding you were. he was being unfair to you and yet here you were not pushing anything out of him with that kind look in your eyes. making it seem as if he deserved any of that. 

“anyways i’m going back to bed now. good night, osamu.” a yawn leaves your mouth as soon as you say that and you send him one last glance before walking to your bedroom. dazai replies with a quiet good night as well and you close the door behind you.

he sighs before putting his black coat away and deciding to lay down. he stares at the ceiling and even with closing his eyes from time to time, falling asleep is near impossible as always. and you were right, this couch is starting to feel uncomfortable. dazai lifts himself up and looks at your closed door. he guesses that about half an hour has passed since you left, you must be asleep by now. dazai can’t help but envy you for getting sleep so easily. the rest he receives is usually by passing out from exhaustion.

staying the whole night here was hopeless, he’s already aware of that. but then he gets a new idea. he stands up and stops in front of your door. dazai hesitates because what if you were awake? that would make this more awkward but he could complain about the couch and that’d give him an excuse. an excuse to sleep next to you.

he stops himself from dwelling on the matter too much and very gently opens the door. the moment he steps in, he’s greeted with your peaceful state, vague moonlight shining down on you. dazai can feel his heart swell because how is someone simply sleeping able to look this stunning? he slowly moves next to your bed, to the left side that had more space and, as carefully as he can, slips between your sheets. this is much more comfortable in comparison to your couch.

dazai lets his head rest against the pillow, his eyes locked on you since fortunately you were facing his side. there is a soft glint in his eyes as he gently tucks some of your hair strands behind your ear. your face features were even prettier close up and after a while he realises something. a part of him wishes to wake up like this everyday, your face being the first thing he’ll see, the chance to be this close to you. a true luxury that dazai thinks he would never be deserving of. after all, why would a person like you be with someone like him?

a subtle noise from you is enough to snap him out of his trance. he wonders if you’re about to wake up but before he could come to a conclusion, you shift a little and slightly nuzzle your face to the palm of his hand that was laying beside you. dazai’s body tenses as he isn’t sure if he should pull his hand away or not. there was no way that you knew he was here. looks like you just stirred in your sleep. he let out a relieved breath, gradually relaxing again. just the warmth radiating from you is more than enough to ease his worries. 

dazai wonders if you know how much you mean to him. probably not. he could never express it enough anyway. but it also scares him because that means the world can rip you away from him in any moment and he literally doesn’t know what he’ll do if that were to happen. dazai told himself from the beginning that he should avoid you at all costs but he has already failed that part. you had him hooked around your finger in a way that you didn’t even realise.

he closes his eyes, now focusing on your touch and faint breathing. maybe if you are right next to him he could doze off for a little while. he can imagine your reaction once you’re aware he’s in your bed in the morning but it will be worth it. anything is worth it as long as it’s with you. dazai decides to make one small promise before trying to focus on sleeping.

he will definitely try your muffins later.

hope this was okay, thank you if you made it this far ^^

— 𝖘𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖘 + 𝖉𝖆𝖟𝖆𝖎 ₊˚⊹

pairing: osamu dazai (bungou stray dogs) x fem!reader

content warning(s): non-descriptive illness, kisses, cuddling, osamu dazai is a softie, tooth-rotting fluff, sickness care, ailment treatments, pet names (love, belladonna, baby)

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“Osamu?”

You had awoken in quite a predicament. Swaddled in a clump of blankets with a cool washcloth pressed to your forehead, bubbling cups of tea and soup spinning steam into the air.

However, you partially clued in on the situation when you felt your head pounding. Your throat felt raw as a cough encroached on your breath, your skin was inflamed as sweat gathered by your temples, and your muscles ached as you attempted to stretch your arms. You were sick.

The smirking man before you was how you clued into the next part of your predicament.

“Yes, my love?”

You had no idea how long you had been swaddled up on the living room couch, but knowing Dazai, he had clued in on your sickness hours before you did. A perked brow was your sole response to him.

“Isn’t it obvious? You’re sick.” He snuggled into your side, a lopsided grin on his face as he pressed kiss after kiss onto your skin with a coo. “My poor sweet baby.”

“You seem a bit too enthused about this entire thing.”

“Me?” he gasped. “I can’t believe you would accuse me of such a thing!”

He quieted his voice as you winced. “But who wouldn’t be?” he teased, sweet nothing whispered into your ears as he ran his nimble fingers through your hair, massaging them into your temples. “I have an excuse to miss work and spoil my sweet belladonna. Sign me up.”

“Did you somehow get me sick?” you deadpanned.

“No, I wouldn’t,” he whined, digging further into the blankets until he was snuggled up with you, bracing your body against his chest as he lazily burrowed into your neck.

“Mhm,” you hummed, pressing a kiss to his hands. “Watch out. You could get sick.”

“You’re saying that,” he smirked. “But you’re doing nothing to get away.”

“I’m sick, and you’re warm. Sue me.” You leaned into him as you toyed with his bandaged fingers.

He trailed kisses across your neck, his cool skin drawing a soft groan from your lips. “And that means I’ll have extra time to spend with my baby because she’s so sweet, and I know she’ll take of me.”

“Mm, I’ll consider it,” you mumbled, eyes heavy.

He gasped, much to your tired amusement, as tiny giggles escaped your lips between a cough. His arms were hot as they squeezed around your waist, and before long, you found yourself nuzzled into his chest on the cusp of sleep. His fingers traced your features as your eyes fluttered closed, a kiss pressed against your forehead.

“Sweet dreams, my love.”

taglist: @imhandicapableofmath @lovedazai @hauntedsol @ruru-kiss @ishqani @zyilas @lovesick-fairy @fedyascoffin @squigglewigglewoo @kelperspelt @miloofc @thesilvernight0wl @s1eepybunny @sillyspookycat @aureatchi @dazaisms

Dazai getting a little annoyed because you were moving and tugging his hair a little too much while, he shamelessly moans into your ears, to tease you, as he quickens his pace. Gettung a little annoyed, he unties his own bandage, or grabs some from close by, and wraps them around your wrists to keep you from grabbing shit and little to your little moans and whines to at least grab his hair or the bed sheets, but he just smirks and laughs at your futile, pathetic attempts. He makes up with kisses and cuddles later after your body is completely drained of energy.

when you don’t say “i love you” back to bakugou.

Bakugou says, “I love you,” every time he’s about to leave the house without you. It’s something that he got from his father, and to put it simply, he got influenced.

He’s about to finish putting on his hero gear. His gauntlets were already in place, his boots laced, and his mask pushing his hair away from his face—kind of like how he wore it during high school whenever it wasn’t necessary to wear it properly.

And there you were, sitting cross-legged on the floor without a care in the world.

Books were scattered around you in piles, organized by some system only you seemed to understand. You were focused as you murmured to yourself quietly, comparing sizes, genres, and authors, completely absorbed in your task of organizing the living room’s bookshelf.

“I’m heading out.”

“Mmhm,” you replied absentmindedly, holding up two books and tilting your head as if the slight angle would help you decide which belonged on the top shelf.

Bakugou frowned, his brow twitching. “Oi, did you hear me?”

“Yes, yes,” you said, still not looking at him. “Be careful, Katsuki.”

He let out a huff, running a hand through his hair. He was used to you getting lost in your little projects, but this felt different (were you playing a prank on him?). He stepped closer, crouching down beside you to meet your eye level. “Don’t overwork yourself while I’m gone,” he said, softer this time.

“I won’t.”

Still not looking at him. Unbelievable.

To Bakugou, it felt like being thrown through a building and back—and he wasn’t even exaggerating because it actually happened to him once! And he could definitely conclude that the feeling’s similar when you’re ignoring (not paying that much attention to) him.

Bakugou watched you for a moment longer, his eyes narrowing slightly before he sighed. “I love you,” he murmured, his tone quieter.

“Uh-huh. Have a good day at work.”

Just as Bakugou was about to stand back up, he blinked, the words sinking in slowly. His brow furrowed as the realization hit him—he’s so confused.

You didn’t say it back.

“What the hell?” he muttered, more to himself than to you—because you didn’t even hear him.

He huffed, taking the book you were inspecting as he let your hands fall on his arms instead.

“Hey.”

“Hm?” you glanced at him, your expression innocent as if nothing unusual had happened.

“You didn’t say it back,” he said, his tone sharp, though there was a hint of disbelief beneath the irritation.

The audacity you had. After almost always saying “I love you” to him to the point where Bakugou realized he couldn’t go on his day without hearing it, you decide to not say it now?

What’s next? You’re going to tell him you want a divorce? He’s overreacting, he thinks.

“Say what back?”

He clenched his jaw, his cheeks flushing faintly. “I said I love you, dumbass.”

Realization dawned on your face, followed by a sheepish smile. That smile—the one that managed to win him over—it’s so infectious it might as well be a cause of an epidemic.

“Oh! Katsuki, I’m sorry. I was distracted.”

“Tch,” he muttered, looking away from you. “Yeah, I noticed.”

You leaned closer to where he was crouching, squeezing his forearm softly, your touch light and apologetic. “You know I love you too, right?”

He side-eyed you, his scowl deepening, though it was clear his annoyance was fading.

“Doesn’t count if I gotta remind you,” Bakugou grumbled—almost pouting.

Your laughter bubbled out, so familiar that Bakugou was reminded where his home is, as you then held his face gently—then squishing his cheeks so that his lips are puckered. “I’m sorry,” you said, your voice warm and teasing. “I’ll make sure to say it next time, promise.”

“Better keep thath promish,” he muffled out.

“I will,” you assured him, loosening your hold as you gave him a soft kiss on the lips. Strawberry-flavored chapstick, one of Bakugou’s favorites whenever you kiss him.

“I love you, Katsuki.”

He tried to maintain his frown, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward as you kissed him once more. “You better.”

“Now go save the day, my hero.”

With a sigh, Bakugou leaned away from you, his posture reluctant to even leave you. He made his way to the door, pausing to glance over his shoulder one last time. You were looking at him, blowing him lots of kisses with the emphasized “mwah!”

“Don’t get so caught up in your books that you forget I exist,” he tells you.

You smiled, nodding along. “Never.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too! Text me when you get to your agency; love you lots!” That’s better.

As he closed the door behind him, Bakugou shook his head, muttering to himself, “Ignored for some damn books. Unbelievable.”

Still, despite his grumbling, the faint smile on his face said he wasn’t really mad.

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