Bakugo

Bakugou has been hanging around your house for as long as you can remember. If you hear muffled laughter or the sound of a PlayStation coming from your brother Kirishima's room, you know Bakugou is there. He'll always throw in his two cents whenever you walk by, just to see how mad you are.

You went to get your charger again, ignoring his stupid interruption. You simply rolled your eyes and silently disappeared into your room, not even deigning to answer him.

"Listen," Bakugou's cheerful whisper reached your back, "is she always such a joy in person? Or is it just me that has this effect on her?"

"Consider yourself lucky," Kirishima replied, not looking up from the monitor. "I live in the same apartment with this grump, get used to it."

That day, university squeezed you dry: lectures, seminars, presentations—the whole usual saga. You returned home and, without even undressing, plopped down on your bed and fell into such a deep sleep, it was as if someone had switched you off.

The alarm didn't ring—you were awakened by your phone: a sharp, irritating ring right next to your ear. Without opening your eyes, you fumbled for it on your pillow. Your head was completely foggy, and you were one hundred percent sure it was your brother calling from the next room, asking you to bring him something. But it wasn't him on the other end.

The voice sounded completely unlike yours—somehow drawn-out, soft, and strangely tender. You practically purred into the phone:

— Are you crazy to call so early?.. Go away... let me at least get some sleep.

There was a pause, and then a soft chuckle came from a voice you knew all too well. Bakugou. It held a mixture of surprise and an almost innocent delight.

"Oh my God," he drawled, as if he couldn't believe his ears, "You're practically purring, kitten. Would you like to say that again? I want to hear it again."