#Grooming Set for Men

[addictedbespoken]

Men White Paisley Print 3pc Tuxedo Suit Custom Made Single Breasted Shawl Lapel Double Breasted Waist Coat Wedding Groom Prom Party Attire

White Paisley tuxedo suits to perfectly complement your appearance at every occasion, whether it's formal, casual, or semiformal.

This suit include: •Single breasted Jacket with flap pocket & button closure •Shawl lapel •Vest •High waist pant

Features: •Lightweight •Soft & breathable •Comfortable wearing in all seasons

Material & Caring: •Premium Paisley & Velvet & Eco friendly material. •Dry Clean •Dry on low heat or hang to dry for best result.

[millionsknives]

reading dune has me LIVING its been so long since i read a phat old sci fi/fantasy and i just read the first worm scene and my heart was in my throat the whole time not knowing if the men would make it out in time or even WANT to be rescued and it’s SO fun to not know what is going to happen next and turn myself loose to get wildly immersed in the worldbuilding

[allnaturbon]

[purgatorysprompts]

Fuck, dammit, shit. Where the fuck were the wedding rings. They'd lost the bloody wedding rings. They were so dead.

[heckyeahponyscans]

So in the past few years I’ve seen so many videos / posts that are like:

“Actually wolves don’t have hierarchies!  They live in family groups where the ‘alphas’ are mom and dad and the other wolves are their CHILDREN and offer their respect willingly! :D”

and I just have to say

how dare you try to make normative nuclear families out of wolves

Yes, a lot of the old “nature red in tooth and claw” stuff about wolves is nonsense. (Like anything from Jack London.) And anything ‘alpha’ you see sleazy men trying to relate to dating (yikes!) is especially nonsense.

But wolves are complex social creatures and they create complex social structures. Just as you can’t say “THIS is the way human society is structured. Just THIS single way and no other”, so too there is no single form for a wolf pack.  

Some packs are a mom wolf and a dad wolf and their wolf children.  Others are two small ragged packs that combine to form a large pack.  Others are packs where a lone wolf joins and eventually becomes a leader. Others are packs where a grown child-wolf has pushed their parent out of the leadership role.

Speaking of the latter, let’s look at the tale of Wolf 40 and Wolf 42.

Wolf 40, Wolf 41, and Wolf 42 were wild Yellowstone wolves, daughters of the alphas. Their father was illegally killed by hunters and shortly after ambitious Wolf 40 ousted her mother, driving her out of the pack.  Wolf 21 became the new alpha male, and 40′s mate.

Wolves have personalities, and Wolf 40′s personality was “volatile”.  Imagine Scar from The Lion King combined with the boss from Office Space, and you have Wolf 40.  She habitually bullied the other female wolves, attacking them until they expressed abject submission.  And the wolves that got the worst of it were her sisters, Wolves 41 and 42.

Wolf 41 got tired of the bullying and left.  Wolf 42 remained, perhaps because she was close to Wolf 21, the alpha male.  Despite that, Wolf 21 did not interfere when his mate harassed Wolf 42.

Unlike 40, Wolf 42 got along well with the other female wolves, spending time grooming them and relaxing with them. Wolf 40 could have followed her sister’s example and built up positive social bonds. But she didn’t.

One day, Wolf 40 went out on an important task.  She was going to kill another litter of her sister’s pups--having done the same in two previous years.  This isn’t uncommon wolf behavior (but is not universal, as we will see.)  Typically only the alphas breed.

However, Wolf 40 never returned from her important task because Wolf 42--who previously had submitted to her alpha and sister, who had allowed the killing of two previous litters of pups--had had enough.  She fought back.

And the other female wolves jumped to aid her.

Collectively, they killed Wolf 40. Because “alpha” isn’t a magic cloak of protection, it doesn’t even mean “strongest wolf”, it’s just a job title.

The next day Wolf 42 carried her pups, one by one, to her sister’s den.  She set her children among the pups of her dead sister and raised both litters together. And when another wolf in the pack had pups, Wolf 42 carried them to the den to be communally raised as well.  She was the alpha female now and she made the rules, and the first rule was “we don’t hurt pups here.”

As for Wolf 21, he became the mate of Wolf 42.  Maybe he understood that Wolf 40 had been riding for a fall. 

As alpha female, Wolf 42 continued to be supportive and kind towards the other pack members.  Wolves who had been nervous wrecks under Wolf 40 began to relax and come into their own; one of the former omega wolves gained self-confidence and became one of the best hunters.

“Alpha”, for wolves, just means leader.  They might be good leaders, whom you respect, or they might be bad leaders, who fill you with dread.  They might be your parents, or they might not.  Even if they are your mother or father, wolves don’t contextualize those relationships the same way humans do.

But one thing wolves have in common with humans is that they have individual personalities and experiences, and their actions derive from those.  There is no “typical wolf pack.” And I think that’s beautiful.

If you want to learn more about wild wolf dynamics, I recommend reading the annual Yellowstone Wolf Project Reports.  Which are FASCINATING.  There are also some good wildlife specials out there.

Wolves are my favorite animal. <3  It pains me to see them misunderstood as crazed bloodthirsty brutes, but it also pains me to see them woobified.  They deserve better than that.

[sweetclipz]

Only $11.94! Price drop! Beard Grooming Kit (was $32.91)

Only $11.94! Price drop! Beard Grooming Kit (was $32.91)

Get this Beard Grooming Kit for only $11.94 (was $32.91). Click here!

[mehdi-hasan-tailors]

[addictedbespoken]

Men Custom Made White Cotton 3 Pc Suit Golden Hand Embroidered Lapel Designer Vest Coat Pant Wedding Prom Party Personalized Gift For Him

Are you passionate about fashion? And looking Embroidered 3pc Pant Suit? Look no further, because we have them!

With this exquisite work of art, you may proudly display your love of embroidery. This "Men White Cotton Embroidered 3pc Pant Suit" was professionally made by hand in India and features elaborate embroidery work and other details.And is made up of cotton fabric with just the right amount of stretch and is comfortable and flattering for all. Words are not enough to compliment. It is one of our crowd's favorite, & we bet it is sure to be your next favorite too!

Features: •Single Breasted Jacket •Golden Embroidery •Embroidered Cuff •High Waist Wide Leg Pant

Material & Caring: •Premium Cotton & Eco friendly material. •Dry Clean •Dry on low heat or hang to dry for best result.

[arachine]

— 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞?: 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐬

+ 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝: multiple stranger things men

+ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: mature

+ 𝐜𝐰: explicit sexual content

+ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: so…i’m back. It’s been so long since i’ve posted the first dick analysis, and i just couldn’t resist doing one for the stranger things men! this is just a filler post until i finish writing some of my requests and outlining the first few chapters of my eddie munson series. until then, please enjoy this, i had a lot of fun just spewing all of my whore thoughts into this >.<

+ part two here !

+ 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: the small font is a stylistic choice. if you are having trouble reading, i suggest you adjust your iphone’s settings!

eddie “the freak” munson

↻ length: the social pariah, eddie munson, is many things. he’s loud, obnoxious, witty, and…a freak. yeah, he roleplays with 15 year old kids, and yeah, he very well may be a super senior–having repeated the 12th grade three times–but those things don’t really make him a freak. no, the thing that makes him a freak is the unnecessarily long, heavy piece of meat that swings between his legs like a pendulum. 

coming in at just about 6 inches flaccid, and 7.5 inches fully erect, eddie takes the cake for this lists’ third longest dong. 

↻ width: eddie’s a pretty skinny guy, and so, his dick’s probably not much thicker than a febreeze bottle. but it’s okay, because skinny dick, is still good dick. 

↻ color: he’s pale but it’s definitely a little tanner than the rest of his body. i’d say it’d progressively get darker the closer it gets to his tip (which is a beautiful mauve-y color that darkens when erect).

extra: 

↻ groomed: it’s the 80s, and he’s a metalhead with a wild mane of hair on his head, so naturally, i think he’d rock a little bush. just a little one, but on occasion, he will tackle it with some scissors and trim it down a bit. 

↻ curved: oh, god, yes. deliciously curved to the left with a plump, mushroomy head. 

↻ veins: duh! two thick veins that begin underside the shaft and split into a fork just beneath the head. 

↻ how he uses it: gonna just go ahead and say it, and this may be controversial, but i honestly think eddie would love putting you in a full nelson. now before you scrunch your nose in disagreement, just LISTEN. he’s such a skinny motherfucker but i just know there’s some muscle under those black skinny jeans and tees. i mean, we all saw that scene where he pinned steve against the wall with a broken beer bottle to his throat—albeit because he was defending himself—but that’s neither here nor there. eddie fucks, and he fucks good. 

steve “good hair” harrington 

↻ length: steve is a ken doll personified. except, unlike a ken doll, there’s actually something down there besides a flat surface—so rest assured, you won’t have to worry about bumping purses when doing the woo hoo. but here’s another controversial opinion: steve doesn’t have a big dick—it’s average, and that’s okay!

steve’s dick rests at a firm 5.3 inches flaccid, and a good 6.5 inches erect. not too big, and not too small. just…perfect, like him. 

↻ width: for what he lacks in length, he makes up for in girth! yeah, you’re getting 6 inches, but he’s hitting you with that stretch—and it burns, but in the best way imaginable. 

↻ color: the prettiest boy in hawkins has to have the prettiest cock, right? i think it’d be pretty light in comparison to the rest of his body. when i think of him, i feel like he’d be one of those guys who are kinda tan but when they take off their pants, they have the most bizarre looking tan lines ever, and their ass is brighter than the moon! anyway, i digress; it’d be pretty pale with a mean, red tip when aroused, and strawberry pink when it’s soft. 

extra: 

↻ groomed: yes. he keeps it really simple. shaves it down real low but not enough to the point where he’s bald. 

↻ curved: as straight as a pencil 

↻ veins: has one on the top of his shaft that wraps around the head 

↻ how he uses it: we’re talking about steve here. steve the womanizer, steve the public enemy and panty dropper of seasons one through three. he’s all about that doggy style life. don’t let his himbo persona in season four fool you, that man is a whore! he likes to get down and dirty, and if that includes you on your hands and knees, with your face shoved into the sheets while your tears drip down onto the sheets…then, so be it. 

billy “ima turn you out” hargrove

↻ length: i am not a billy hargrove enjoyer but i can’t sit here and lie to you, i just won’t. that silly little fella’s got a cock the size of a bull… 

8.2 inches. 

no, i’m not taking criticism. he’s big, end of story. 

↻ width: the length matches the girth, sis. if you think you can take him—you can’t. and if you think i’m kidding—i’m not. think coke bottle, but longer.  

↻ color: tanned to perfection, because of course it is, he was a lifeguard for god sake! 

extra: 

↻ groomed: like steve, he keeps it pretty well trimmed. although, sometimes, he lets it grow out so he can show off his happy trail. and a sight to see it is!

↻ curved: oh my days, it curves to the right—like a lot. a real captain hook. 

↻ veins: absolutely covered in ‘em, but the most prominent one resides on the side of his shaft and if you really look at it, it kinda looks like a little lighting bolt. 

↻ how he uses it: you can’t have sex with billy and expect intimacy, that just isn’t happening. he likes it with absolutely no strings attached and no eye contact. so, expect to be thrown into all types of obscure positions, his favorite of which includes you with half of your body hanging off the bed and him pounding mercilessly into you from behind. honestly, as long as billy gets a view of your ass, he doesn’t really care.

jim “big zaddy” hopper 

↻ length: the biggest dick on this list. a true monster cock, that is it, that is all. 

but if i had to give a specific measurement…9 inches. whether that’s his measurement soft or erect, i’ll let you be the judge of that.  

↻ width: he’s so thick that he’d probably split your pussy open if he didn’t properly prepare you, and even then, you’d still never be prepared enough :(

↻ color: i’d say it would be one or two shades darker than his complexion, and the head is definitely not pink. more like a rouge mixed with a little brown.  

extra: 

↻ groomed: jim just gives grown man, you know? like obviously, he is one, but i just think there’s something so sexy about a man with body hair! so, i don’t think he’d keep it well trimmed, or trimmed at all for that matter. and if he does decide to take a pair of scissors to it, it’s very, very rare. 

↻ curved: surprisingly, no. it’s straight, but extremely heavy and he has big man balls to match. 

↻ veins: yes, just like billy, they’re all over. with a dick as big as his, he’s gonna need all the veins he can get to transport the appropriate amount of blood to it. 

↻ how he uses it: very traditional, very cute and sweet. likes to fuck in missionary because he’s a real man, and he prefers to look into his lover’s eyes while pleasuring them. however, that doesn’t mean he’s a prude. if he wants to, he could put you in a full nelson, but he usually just opts for something that won’t throw his old man back out :)

© all content belongs to arachine 2022. no reposts, modifications, plagiarizing, or remaking of any form without proper credit.

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

Cravings

Summary: Spencer admires Reader while pregnant and in the depths of her cravings.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content warnings: Pregnancy, eating

Word count: 848

Spencer can’t pinpoint when he’s loved you the most. Hearing you groggy over the phone when he was on the jet heading home would’ve been the obvious moment, considering he blurted the three special words out in the middle of you talking about your upcoming work day. You and the team, who also witnessed it, were stunned into silence. But he still spoke to you after, whispering like he was alone the entire time.

Your wedding day would be another appropriate answer. He didn’t tear up as any groom would. No, he cried. His tears collected at the brim but took time to overflow, blurring his view of you gliding down the aisle with thoroughly-planned elegance. He had to block them to gather himself, as one would shield themselves from the sun.

But this moment tugs at his heart: when he opens the front door with the classic, “Honey, I’m home,” and you emerge from the bedroom with a swollen belly hidden under an old sweatshirt. The joy on your face is a moment he won’t forget. Granted, a portion of said joy might be thanks to the greasy bag and styrofoam cup he’s clutching desperately in one hand. Nevertheless, he savors the look and the feeling that must have felt similar to men who graced their families with bountiful hunting results.

Except in this case, the “bountiful hunting results” are chicken tenders with fries, extra honey mustard, and a large hot fudge sundae from your favorite restaurant that happens to be in the middle of nowhere and roughly 30 minutes away. But cravings are cravings, and they’ve been relentless throughout the second trimester. He’ll scope out the specific restaurants, local or corporate, if it makes you happy and appeases the baby girl (hopefully) inside you.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” A kiss on the cheek sufficed as you waddled toward the kitchen. You put the sundae in the freezer for now and barely waste time getting a plate and napkins, but it’s less to clean up. And less for Spencer to double-clean later.

Before you sit down, Spencer takes the plate from you, and he swears for a minute he saw motherly instincts kick in.

“You don’t have to eat at the table," he says. “Come on,” he tilts his head toward the couch as he walks, the obvious not mentioned.

“We don’t eat on the couch.” You reply.

He’s still walking.

“You don’t like it. Crumbs, lingering nastiness, and other science-y terms you’ve used.”

He puts the plate on the coffee table. “I’m willing to make exceptions. Plus, with a baby, mess is inevitable.” He leans down, revealing the breakfast tray he bought. You clearly never saw it before. Because the way your open mouth morphed into a smile, he would've thought he unintentionally did magic. He pulled out the small legs. “I figured it’s best to adjust slowly while I still can.”

You walk toward him, your hands resting on your belly. “But this is your couch.”

“In our apartment.” He takes a pillow and fluffs it, setting it against the arm. “Sit.”

You eventually comply. There’s still a look on your face, indicating second-guessing, like you’re somehow doing this without his knowledge. Meanwhile, the breakfast tray is in his hands, and he makes sure you’re settled. You lay across the couch.

Spencer puts down the tray, asking if you want a drink before devouring. You shake your head, eyes staring down at the fatty American dish in front of you. While you begin, he picks a vinyl from your shared collection. The one thing he won’t waver about is the classics.

As in classical music.

As in Mozart. Spencer has noticed your familiarity with the symphonies over the past six months. He loves it, regardless of whether it’s just because he’s insisted you listen to classical after you told him the news.

When the melody flows, Spencer finds a seat on the couch. You slide your feet toward you to make room. As soon as he sits down, he puts your legs in his lap, letting you stretch out again. His lips disappear into his mouth for a minute as he suppresses a giggle.

All the chicken was either swallowed or mush in your mouth and specks of salt littered your lips and hands along with honey mustard drippings. This. Spencer's in love again. As you suck the sauce off your own fingers like it’s the only sustenance you’ve had in days. The comfort he feels here, knowing the woman basically attacking her dinner will be the mother of his child. This is something even his three PhDs are unable to put into words.

“Do you want some help?” Spencer leans over, takes the napkins under the plate, and wipes the corners. You continue chewing, polite enough to keep your mouth closed and manage its volume. “There.” He puts the napkin down. And he looks at you, realizing just how much you've changed his life.

“What?” Your mouth is so full.

“Nothing.”

You swallow almost everything. “Something.”

He shrugs. “I just love you.”

[ginaketchum]

We stay Gold, always. 🌟

[samantha-beautii]

If you have been looking for the best mens grooming products then we assure you that with us you will get what you want. At Samantha Beautii, you can find wide range of makeup products and men’s grooming items. We are a leading online store and we deal in quality products that would impress you for sure. Best in feel, these products enhance the way you live and the way you look. When women love to be pampered, why not men should get the same treatment? Well, buy our best quality grooming products for men and take things to the next level. Be ready to make the right choice.

[kingkatsuki]

— when you have a blind date

Masterlist.

Your friends think its time you tried to settle down and they set you up on a blind date.

Warnings: implied angst, idiots in love.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 1.8k.

You’d slowly come to terms that you’d probably be the last one of your friends to find a partner. Everyone else seemed to be following the right paths in love, and you were still pining dreadfully for a man that didn’t like you back.

“Not settled down yet?”

The dreaded question always directed towards you, and you never had a clue how to answer. No matter what occasion— weddings, birthdays, baby showers, anniversaries. It was always directed at you without fail, eyes looking to the side of you like maybe this would be the event where you’d show up with someone. If you had a hundred yen for every time someone asked you the same dreaded question, you were certain you’d never need to work again. 

You’d become robotic in answering it too, recycling the same excuses about working overtime and trying to further your career, or dates not working out (when really you’d been at home with a pint of ice cream and another Zack Efron rom-com), but there was only so many times you’d be able to dodge that question before your friends would take it further. 

There were rarely questions about other aspects of your life, as though your worth was connected to whether you were seeing someone or not. The pity on your friends' faces whenever you’d pick out an excuse was enough to make you want to crawl into a hole and disappear. 

“Well, I’m sure you’ll find someone soon.”

But that wasn’t the worst part about being single. 

Being the single friend meant it always seemed to be you that had to endure being accosted by hopeful men trying their luck. Weddings where you’d already dodged the dreaded “When is it your turn then?” questions and sympathetic gazes when you’d explained your single— the classic “I’m sure you’ll find the right person soon” oozing with faux sincerity, followed by having to avoid half the groom's party offering to dance with you or buy you a drink from the bar. Even worse the best men that thought it was right of passage to sleep with the maid of honour. 

Bars where men would come up to the table and offer to buy you drinks, your friends immediately making it clear that they were taken but you were single— like a prized pig at the country fair. The awkward tension whenever a man wouldn’t take no for an answer when they offered to buy you a drink, even after you’d politely declined and then would proceed to think you owed them something for taking it. 

Not to mention the photographs plastered all over your social media of your friends getting married, moving in together and starting perfect little families. A constant reminder of how alone you really were, and you’d admit it would be nice to come home to someone each night. 

So here you were awake an hour earlier than you needed to be for work, preparing yourself for a date you didn’t even want to go on. A blind date. Your friends had found you the perfect match, in their words. A cute guy— a lawyer, they’d emphasised, as though the career gave credence to his propriety.

You tried to pick an outfit casual enough that you would be able to wear it at work and to the date after without having to get changed, picking a pretty dress paired with some simple low heels. It felt peculiar putting so much effort into your appearance when your heart wasn’t in it, but as your friends said– what have you got to lose?

You’d managed to make it into the office slightly earlier than usual thanks to your early alarm, dropping Bakugou’s coffee down in his office along with his morning paperwork before taking a seat behind your desk and opening your inbox.

“Mornin’” Bakugou grunted as he passed you fifteen minutes later, half-lidded vermillion eyes lingering on you a little longer than usual before stepping inside his office. 

Bakugou never was much of a morning person, especially before coffee. Even though he was always one of the first inside the building each day. One poor reporter found out the hard way when his old secretary organised an interview before his shift was due to start, he’d ended up taking the following three weeks off for stress. 

It was barely twenty minutes later when Bakugou emerged from his office, looking slightly more alert as he placed some forms down on your desk.

“I need these sent to Deku’s agency by this evening.”

“Oh, are these the figures he asked for?” You opened the file to check the first page to see whether it was the paperwork that Midoriya had been expecting from Bakugou. He was always kind and patient on the phone, especially with you, but even you could tell he was getting annoyed at how long it was taking Bakugou to send them to him. You were certain it was Bakugou’s petty way of trying to wind him up, like they were still playful kids in the playground because Bakugou was never late with his paperwork.

“Yeah, he’s been buggin’ me for a week now,” Bakugou scoffed, “Told him he’d get ‘em.”

“I’ll send them right now.” You smiled, standing up from your desk as you collected them in your hands.

“You look nice.” Bakugou murmured, eyes flickering over your form.

“Thanks,” You replied shyly, the corner of your lip curling into a small smile. 

“Not that you don’t always look nice, I just meant you— that dress— fuck.” He cleared his throat, cheeks tinged bright pink, “Sorry. You just look real pretty.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at the compliment as you tried to calm your fluttering heart tickling your ribcage, making your way to the copy room to scan the files across to Deku’s agency but you were unable to hide the wide smile on your face.

The rest of your shift was uneventful, right until you were due to finish. You’d managed to get stuck on the telephone with the head of hero relations at the commission, trying to gather information on Dynamight’s last mission. Information that was usually sent across in a huge report when he made it back to the office, but of course men in suits did not have time to look through a report when they could get someone else to do it for them. Which led to you answering each question by using information on the same report you’d submitted to them, which then led to you finishing your shift late. 

Slamming the phone down as you moved to set your out of office for the weekend, trying to get out of the agency as fast as you could. It wasn’t that you were worried about looking bad to your blind date for being late, but you didn’t want your friends to think you hadn’t made the effort when you had. Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you knocked on the door to Dynamight’s office. Popping your head around the corner to let him know that you were leaving, as you noticed him sat behind his desk with his glasses on as he looked up from his laptop.

“Hey, I wanted to ask you something,” Bakugou called out as you moved to shut the door, “Wait— are you in a rush?” 

“Not really,” You lied, “What do you need?” 

“Are you going out tonight?” Bakugou was a perceptive man, he could tell from the slight difference to your appearance that something was happening. He wondered if maybe it was a friends birthday. 

“Yeah, it’s stupid really,” You didn’t even like admitting it to your boss, and it totally wasn’t because you were head over heels for him, “My friends set me up on this blind date, and I was supposed to meet him twenty minutes ago.”

“Oh, you’re late.” Bakugou muttered. 

“Yeah, but I’m not even sure I want to go.” You shrugged. 

“No, you should go.” He shoved his hands in his pockets so you couldn’t see his fingers curl into fists, his blunt nails digging against calloused skin. 

“I can always come up with something, it’s not a big deal—“ You’d assumed your boss was going to ask you to stay late with him again, like he usually did when someone at the agency had made a mistake that he needed to fix. 

“Seriously, go.” He came towards you, his arm reaching out to open his office door as he ushered you out. 

The intoxicating scent of his quirk mixed with his cologne invaded your senses as he walked you towards the elevator on his floor, leaning forward to push the button for you. 

Part of you felt disappointed that he’d pushed you to go, hoping deep down that he’d be happy you weren’t going on a date with another guy. That maybe, just maybe, he’d ask you on a date himself. 

But of course that was just a fantasy, the perfect little fairytale you liked to conjure up in your mind to try and cope with how desperately your heart yearned for him. 

“Really, I don’t mind staying if that’s what you were going to ask—”

“It ain’t. But it don’t matter, it wasn’t important.” 

“Oh, okay.” You nodded slightly. 

“Oh, and don’t worry, sweetheart.” He smiled, watching as the elevator doors dinged open, “You look beautiful. That fucker is lucky to have you.” 

You stepped into the elevator as you turned to face him, a soft smile on your face as your heart sped up from his words. 

“Thanks, Dynamight.”

The doors slammed shut before he had a chance to correct you, running his palm down his tired face as he felt that familiar ache begin to throb in his chest. 

The question Bakugou had been planning to ask you all week now sat at the forefront of his mind, taunting him vindictively as he fought the urge to throw his phone across the room when he looked down at Kirishima's messages.

The annual Hero Gala was fast approaching, and in all his years from sidekick to owning his own agency, Bakugou had never once been bothered about going. The theatrics of it completely lost on him, distracting from his focus of becoming number one. And knowing that any awards would be packaged and hand delivered to his agency the next morning with or without his attendance solidified the fact he did not need to attend (despite numerous pleas from his PR team). All of his appearances at the Gala's had been forced, until now.

This year felt different, he wanted to go— and he wanted to go with you. Picturing the pretty dress you'd wear, and being able to spend the entire evening with you away from this building— just like a real date.

But he'd fucked up. He waited too long to tell you that he liked you, and now he'd lost you forever. This guy would probably be your perfect match and now he'd have to watch you hopelessly in love with a man who isn't him.

Opening the new notification from Kirishima on his phone as he text back. 

Kirishima[5.58PM]: Hey man, so did you ask her? What did she say?

Kirishima[5.59PM]: She said yes right?

Kirishima[5.59PM]: C’mon man, please tell me that you asked her? 

Kirishima[6.01PM]: You said you’d ask today, man.

Bakugou[6.43PM]: She’s going on a date tonight. 

Kirishima[6.44PM]: Wait, what?!

Kirishima[6.44PM]: With you? 

Bakugou[6.45PM]: No.