cw: pro-hero bakugo, reader has boobs, kind of explicit/nsfw? idk i describe boobs, reader is smaller and shorter than bakugo, unedited sawry
bakugo's muscle tee looks as ill-fitting as it'll ever be draped over you.
there are reasons for this, perfectly founded and logical reasons for why that is—the main one being that, it's, well, his; two, maybe even three sizes larger than what it should be to fit you properly.
but, he can't stop staring, and there are reasons for that too—the main one being that, it's his, and yet, the only way he can ever imagine it now is when it's being worn by you.
your hips sway to the song you've been humming for the past five minutes. it's the same one, the chorus on a perpetual loop. he's sure it's the only part you know; you do this often enough that it's the only part he knows now, too.
the hem of his tee hits right at the top of your thighs, concealing just enough to tease, but he’s confident that if you reach up even the slightest bit for the cupboard overhead, there'll be nothing to hide.
he feels a little bit like a creep like this, watching as he stands in the middle of your shared living room, but it's impossible too look away—you've got to be doing this on purpose, right?
heat flares inside of him when you turn your body ever so slightly, the armhole of his muscle tee large enough to give him the clearest view of skin—
he gulps.
it's smooth, sloping just right; the side view of your under boob curves into its perfect shape and he can imagine it, feel—
(is this considered perving if he's been with you for years?)
the pan in front of you sizzles as you plop in god knows what. you pour in something from the side and wait, one hand propped on the hip you pop out. then, you pick up the pan, attempting to flip what's inside (probably a pancake, now that he thinks about it).
it’s hard to focus on what you’re cooking though, especially when all he sees is plump flesh jiggling, bouncing as you further agitate the pan.
he just got the pants of this suit readjusted, and now they're fucking tight.
bakugo normally runs hot; it’s kind of part of his dna. but this warmth is different, flushing him from head to toe. it creeps up the side of his neck, painting the tips of his ears a blooming red.
you turn around then, plopping the pancake on the plate atop the counter behind you.
"oh! you're done," you greet him with a smile. so. fucking. casually.
as if your tits aren't fucking peaking against the gray fabric of his tee.
as if you think he buys the fake innocence poorly concealing that sly, conniving look in your pretty eyes.
as if you aren't standing in front of him in his muscle tee, wearing nothing underneath it like you didn’t do this on purpose. like you don’t know what it fucking does to him.
his eyes squint suspiciously, deep vermillion staring straight into yours.
you tilt your head, the tips of your lashes kissing the top of your cheekbones as you blink. you reach for a bottle of honey.
“everything okay?” you ask, voice syrupy, sickeningly sweet.
your movements play in front of him languidly, the corner of your lips curling up slightly as you smirk. honey catches on your finger as you pop open the bottle cap.
he’s supposed to be out the door in five minutes if he wants to make it in time for a meeting at the agency. technically, he should already be there if he wants to keep up his track record of consistently being fifteen minutes too early.
but you start to approach him, rounding the kitchen island. there’s a narrow space between him and the slab of marble, but you slide into it like it was made for you.
he’s certain it was, from the way the tip of your nose brushes against his as you tiptoe. your tits are right fucking there, brushing against the skintight material of his suit.
there’s too much fucking fabric if you ask him, between cotton and spandex.
your grin widens, and he feels hot, the heat from his cheeks radiating.
then you whisper, still saccharine, “breakfast is ready,” before kissing him on the lips lightly. a short peck, soft in the way that promises more before you slip away, giggling in your retreat.
he huffs, watching you leave. his feet shift as he thinks.
five minutes, huh?
like hell he’s going to eat these damn pancakes for breakfast today.
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when a living weapon whumpee only takes orders from ONE person. They’ve been conditioned to ignore everyone else’s orders. This means that after rescue, the team can barely get whumpee to drink or allow them bandage their injuries. One of the teammates manages to imitate whumpee’s handler by deepening their voice.
They stay out of whumpee’s line of sight, standing behind their hospital bed. “Drink this,” they snap, hating how they have to command this broad-shouldered ghost of a person. Without their armor, without their mask, whumpee looks like a wraith. There’s nothing behind their eyes. They play with the hospital blanket with twitching hands that have strangled and maimed.
When whumpee hears the order they stiffen to attention and take the cup offered with those still-shaking hands. But the cup slips through their fingers and lands in a puddle on the tiles.
They immediately tense up, shoulder blades flung so far back they touch. Their breathing quickens, waiting.
But nothing happens.
They give whumpee a new glass of cold water. This time, they lift the cup to whumpee’s lips and hold it steady, with one hand behind their head for support.
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You know how I know Mike is queer?
These are the same person. Mike is an inherently caring, loving, and protective person. It's what Will called out in 4x08 and reminded us of with Mike's desire and practice in attempt to be a "hero" and be able to help the ones he loves.
But when El tells him she feels unloved by him, he doesn't comfort her. At all. He defends himself. He doesn't even say "yes I do". He says "I say it". Even when he's arguing that he loves her, he is defending himself, not comforting her. If he was comforting her he would have reacted to her crying at all. He doesn't. He just becomes increasingly desperate and escalates the tactics that are making her cry more.
Because the accusation is that important to him. Not many things could be so important to him that he would deprioritize her or taking care and protecting and comforting those he loves. He even does quite well at it at the start of the scene. We have PROOF that he is pretty stable these days with any sort of accusation or invalidation with how well he takes "you don't understand" and simply asks questions without any sort of offense. So he CAN take it. He takes it IN THIS CONVERSATION.
But when she says he doesn't love him, he stops the "they just don't know you". He stops the "don't say that about yourself, you're lovable," which is what this is really about for her. If he had said that even if he couldn't say it himself, it might have still helped a little bit: frame it as his own fault if he can't. But he couldn't do that. Instead, he went with how it reflected on HIM that he couldn't say it and defended himself AGAINST her. FOUGHT her on it.
There are few things that can make him fight a person. And they've all actually been pretty similar. They're all El:
"You're prioritizing El over Will"
"There is something off about your relationship with El"
"You're prioritizing El over [Will]"
"He's right that your and [El's] relationship wasn't a good one"
"Your and El's relationship wasn't a good one"
"You're prioritizing El over [Will]"
"You don't love [El]"
He is comforting. He is kind. He prioritizes others' comfort and safety consistently. He takes other accusations fairly lightly and focuses back onto the person making them and their emotions. And yet, what does he say in those instances and only those instances?
"SHUT. UP."
"You lying piece of shit. You're crazy!"
"It's not my fault you don't like girls!"
"He's just some crazy old man"
"You're conspiring against me!"
"We're friends! We're friends!"
"You're being ridiculous. What is this?"
People who say his character has gotten worse are stating it under the idea that he is always like this. The entire discovery so many people, including myself, had that he's queer was because we noticed that his outbursts were consistent. People think he's random and angry because they think the situations are random: Lucas, Hopper, Will, Max, El. But they're forgetting to note what each of those people questioned about him right before.
The biggest proof is that he doesn't ever talk like this outside of these situations. It's lighthearted debates and empathetic conversations.
Mike Wheeler is a kind person. If he said "You're being ridiculous. What is this?" it is not just because he's scared of vulnerability or commitment.
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