...And My Sugar?

"Good heavens! Now you have me shaking in my extremely fashionable boots!"

Strong bond

Valentine’s Day cards for the person who plagues your thoughts this fine February

(?) the different types of kisses bakugou likes to give you

neck kisses that trail your jawline to wake you up in the morning. he has you smiling in your sleep as his lips move against your skin. you look perfect like this, features lit up from the slither of orange light peeking from the drawn curtains, bathing the room in a warm tangerine colour. he knows that you sometimes pretend to still be in a sleepy trance just to keep his attention on you a little longer before the day begins. and he has no problem with giving you what you want.

gentle apology kisses making you forget all about what he was apologising for in the first place. he probably deserved the string of insults that left your lips moments ago, and as pretty as he thinks you look getting worked up, he doesn’t like it being because of him. so he stops your rambling with the touch of his lips upon your own before stepping away slightly to press his forehead against yours. the apology he breathes out is sincere and suddenly you don’t even care for it anymore, only wanting him to kiss you again.

short kisses that always turn into more that convince him that he may actually be addicted to the taste of your lips. these usually take place before he has to leave on his missions. small good-luck kisses deepen when he doesn’t let you pull away just yet. one of his hands wandering around your waist while the other holds onto your cheek. if he could have it his way, your hands would never leave him, nothing comparing to the way your fingers run through his blond hair pulling him closer in return for more.

angry kisses hiding the fact that he was actually just worried about you. how else was he supposed to react other than pull you into his arms the second you came home after a hundred missed calls. anything could of happened, he knows you can hold your own but you’re too important to him. he can’t allow himself to lose sight of you. so he tells you as much, chastising your carelessness between searing kisses with your back against the front door.

injured kisses that he always asks for once you’ve finished patching him up after a day of work. he knows that he could easily go to the medical wing at his agency to get help, but he wants you to be the one to do it. all so he can look up at you from where he sits on the edge of the bathtub, your eyes concentrated on making sure you’re dressing his small wounds correctly. he likes to reach up to smooth out the worried crease between your eyebrows with his thumb, grumbling out that he’ll be just fine as long as you’re here.