sassy man epidemic!
you've been subjected to the sassy man epidemic. and the worst part is, you only add fuel to the fire. | headcanons feat. katsuki bakugou, ejirou kirishima, hanta sero, and denki kaminari. wc: 2.2k
masterlist
katsuki bakugou
If you thought Katsuki was a princess before, just wait until he finds out about skincare. He's already naturally blessed with good skin thanks to his quirk, but he just has to be the best at everything. It started with you forcing him to do facemasks with you, mostly for the fun of it. He would grumble at you, telling you he doesn't need it, but would reluctantly allow you to smooth the sheet mask over his face, carefully ensuring everything was in place.
You pay him no mind when he starts using your skincare products, replicating your skincare routine next to you at the bathroom counter. You are surprised, however, when his collection of products begins to grow beyond yours, and you finish your routine far before he does. You can't suppress your giggles when Katsuki pulls a fluffy headband from his drawer and puts it on, pushing his spiky hair back.
He shoots you a glare, which is accompanied by a scowl. "Fuck are you laughin' at?" He grumbles. "Just showered, I don't want this shit in my hair." You roll your eyes and reach up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind the headband.
"Nothin', Kats. You look very tough with your fluffy skincare headband." You smile up at him, standing on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek.
You two get into a routine where every Friday night, without fail, you're both sitting on the couch in fluffy robes and clay face masks, holding glasses of wine. On these nights, Katsuki indulges in your favorite reality TV at the moment. Since starting this routine, you've finished The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives, Love Island, and Love on the Spectrum.
When he has to go on missions away from home, Katsuki is far from happy. "My skin's gonna go to shit while I'm gone." He complains as he meticulously folds his clothing and shoves it into his travel bag.
"Katsuki, babe, you literally produce nitroglycerin. From your pores. Your skin is actually genetically perfect. You don't need all that extra stuff anyway, you're just a princess." You give his shoulder a patronizing pat as you walk past him out of the bedroom.
"Who're you callin' a princess, huh?! Look at your damn closet!" He shouts, outraged at your accusation.
You mumble to yourself as you stand in front of your bathroom counter, taking in Katsuki's (incredibly organized) array of skin products. You've created this monster, and now you're dealing with the consequences.
eijirou kirishima
Looking at Eijirou Kirishima, the only thing that gives him away as being high maintenance is his hair. Not the color of it, necessarily, at least not when it's freshly dyed. No, it's the spikes and the length. You don't have a clue how he maintained it before the two of you started dating. Kirishima wakes up two hours earlier than he actually needs to before work to ensure he has enough time to do his hair. It's grown longer since high school, falling just past his broad shoulders. He still does his signature spikes, meticulously parting out sections and applying hair gel, then blow-drying each spike to ensure it stays in place. Usually, this endeavour goes smoothly. But on the mornings when his hair just will not cooperate, Kirishima is gently shaking you awake, begging you to come into the bathroom and help him with his hair.
You indulge him, trudging into the bathroom and making him sit on the edge of the tub as you help him spike his hair. "Eiji, you know your hair doesn't have to be perfect, right?" You gripe. "It's always messed up when you get home anyway." Though you may complain, you don't truly have a problem helping him with his hair. It's better than the alternative: being woken up by his frustrated groans, muttered curses, and the sound of the shower running as he washes gel out of his hair. On these days, Kirishima pulls his thick, unruly hair back into a low bun, sitting at the nape of his neck. He leaves the house in an uncharacteristically dejected mood, despite you peppering his face with kisses and telling him how handsome he looks.
You know you contribute to the problem by helping him with his hair instead of making him just deal with it, but you're the exact same way. When you and Eijirou have a date night, you start getting ready three or four hours before so you have enough time to ensure your hair is sitting just right. When you curl your hair and end up unhappy with the look, you're dunking your head under the bathtub faucet in order to start over again. Both you and Eijirou know it shouldn't be a big deal, but you treat it as such anyway.
When Kirishima's roots start to grow out, the black bleeding into red, he begs you to help him touch them up. You two take a trip to the beauty supply store to pick up bleach and his signature cherry red dye. Eijirou heads to the exact spot where his shade is usually stored, and lets out a loud gasp when he finds the shelf slot empty. Before you know it, he is asking the store employees if they have any more in the back, if the other stores have any in stock, and when it will be back in stock. When the employees let him know the shade has been discontinued, he very reluctantly buys a shade that they tell him is very close. Kirishima spends the entire ride home lamenting over the loss of his signature color. "Babe, I've been using this exact dye since middle school! It'll never be the same! This is like…it's like losing a best friend!" He cries, punctuating his sentence with dramatic fake sniffles.
You comfort him, assuring him that nobody will even notice, and that a new shade might be a good brand opportunity. You even end up telling him that he should release his own line of Red Riot hair dye, which perks him up. Unsurprisingly, the new shade of red is nearly indistinguishable from the old shade, and Kirishima is raving about how much better he likes this dye. You suppose you can't give him shit for it; after all, you're exactly the same.
hanta sero
Everyone knows that Sero loves a girl with an attitude problem. Your attitude is exactly why you're surprised when Sero's attitude starts to shine through. He matches you beat for beat, even copying some of your go-to moves. It starts when you two are in bed. It's a hot summer night, and the humid air in the small bedroom of your apartment feels sticky and syrupy. Your AC can't keep up with the heat, and your poor fan is working overtime trying to circulate the sweltering air around the room. You and Sero are lying on top of your covers, stripped down to the barest of layers, trying to beat the heat. He's been whining for the past five minutes about wanting to cuddle with you, but you absolutely cannot deal with his hot, sweaty skin against yours. "Hanta, it is way too fucking hot for you to even be thinking about cuddling right now." You chide, feeling irritation prickling under your skin.
"Oh my god, it's because you hate me!" He snaps back, pressing a hand to his chest in faux shock. "You won't cuddle me because you hate me." You sit up in bed and look over at your boyfriend, your jaw dropping wide open.
"Are you seriously using my line on me?" You hiss, jabbing him in the ribs with a manicured finger.
"Ow! Rude. I sure am, sweets." He drawls out, fixing you with a lazy grin.
"Oh my god, you're actually so annoying." You grumble, grabbing your phone and your vape as you crawl over him and move off the bed. "I'm sleeping on the couch."
"Babeeee, you're so dramatic, come back!" Sero calls after you, mimicking the tone and cadence of your voice. He snickers when you tell him to go fuck himself, and gets up to follow you to the couch.
The next time Sero's attitude shows back up, you two are in the car. You're chewing him out for eating the last of your snacks and leaving the empty box in the cupboard. As soon as you mention food, Sero looks at you with wide eyes, his jaw dropped. "Are you trying to tell me that I'm fat?" He shrieks, looking back and forth between you and the road. "I can't believe you!"
"Hanta, what the actual fuck are you talking about?! Look at yourself, you're a stringbean." You respond, exasperated.
"Oh, so now you're saying I have a flat ass." Sero huffs, making an effort to scoot as far away from you as he can get within the confines of the driver's seat. You recognize this move instantly. You use it all the time.
"For fuck's sake, Sero!" You huff, crossing your arms. Unintentionally, you mirror his exact position, with your head facing the window and your legs pointed away from him. Sero can't help but laugh at this, which only fuels your anger. "You're such a dick, you never take me seriously."
"Aw, come on, ma, don't be like that. You know you love me. I'll buy you more snacks." He sends you a cheeky grin, reaching over to grab your thigh and pull you closer to him. You simply roll your eyes, fighting back a smile. You're annoyed, but only because he's using your tactics against you.
denki kaminari
Having a fashionable boyfriend sounds like it would be fun, especially when you have the same style. You basically get an extra closet, both of you always look good, and you can match outfits. It would be fun if your boyfriend were anyone other than Denki fucking Kaminari. You both like to wear loose, baggy clothes, punctuated with chunky sneakers and the occasional jewelry. You have dresses and skirts in your closet, but you only break them out for nicer occasions. At first, you think it's endearing that he wears the same size clothes as you. You get to dress him up, with his closet as well as yours at your disposal. He indulges you, modeling the outfits, letting you post pictures on Instagram, and making TikTok videos showing off the outfits. Unfortunately, Denki thinks it's hilarious to raid your closet. It was fun at first, when he would strut out of your closet, wearing one of your tight bodycon dresses. He takes a look at himself in the full-length mirror against the wall and lets out a whistle. "Am I serving cunt, or what?" Denki laughs as he checks himself out.
It's less fun when you're getting ready for a night out with Mina and find that you're missing all of your favorite pieces. You're fuming as you call Denki, just knowing that your clothes are sitting in Denki's closet, in Denki's apartment. You're talking before he even picks up the call.
"Whoa, whoa, slow down! What're you yapping about?" Denki interrupts you, making you grit your teeth.
"You! Have you been in my closet again?" You snap, already irritated. Denki lets out a nervous laugh.
"Come on, babe, enough with the 'coming out of the closet' jokes!" He tries desperately to steer the topic of conversation away from your clothes.
"Denki Kaminari, do not play with me right now, or so help me God, every item of clothing you've left here is getting burned!"
"Okay, okay!" He yelps out. "The clothes didn't do you wrong, don't hurt them! I…may or may not have stopped by your apartment on my way home cause I didn't like my outfit." Denki sounds nervous.
"Denki, what did you take?" You hiss, pacing around your closet.
"Oh, you know, just, uh, some of my clothes! Yup!" Your boyfriend's voice is laced with guilt, and you know he's lying. You switch the call to FaceTime, telling Denki to turn his camera on. He hesitates, but switches his camera on, revealing that he's at the subway station with Sero and Kirishima. You squint at the screen and gasp as you realize he's currently wearing your favorite baggy crop top.
"Denki, you little shit! I was going to wear that tonight! What jeans are you wearing?"
Kaminari gulps, knowing that he's been caught. "Uhh…cargo pants?"
"Sero!" You call out to the dark-haired man. "What pants is he wearing?"
Sero doesn't hesitate to answer; he finds genuine joy in you and Denki's wardrobe quarrels, and he's not one to turn down free entertainment. "Black cargo pants! They look like they're Dickies!"
"Oh my Goddd, Kami! Those are my favorite pants, come on!" You wail over the phone, mourning the loss of the outfit you had in mind. "I'm breaking up with you."
"Wait, wait, no! Come meet up with me, and we can switch out—" You hang up before he can finish his sentence, and resign yourself to finding a different outfit. Before you leave, you check your phone, seeing a string of texts from the diva himself.
"twink <3: COME BACK PLEASE"
"twink <3: DONFT DO THIS I BEG OF YUO"
"twink <3: *sent you their location*"
"twink <3: U CAN HAVE UR PANTS BABY PLEASE"
a/n: yet another work born out of conversations with may <3
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