There is not a single ounce of creativity in this, not a one, I just wanted to write something for me... Someone please feed me some role reversal/female led relationship headcanons, haha...
"Kaminari, what are you–"
"Your hair is really soft after you wash it."
The muscles in Jirou's face tense, albeit not in a bad way. She's seen the way Kaminari plays with Ojiro's tail during class, absentmindedly, sometimes not even realizing he's doing it. Now he's brushing his hand along the back of her head with the same level of bright-eyed enthusiasm, all smiles and dopey admiration.
It's embarrassment that prevents Jirou from relaxing.
Embarrassment that makes her almost want to slap his hand away.
"Listen, do you want your cuddles tonight or not?" Cuddles is, in Jirou's opinion, such a strange freaking word – she'd never imagined it was possible for anyone to say "cuddles" with a straight face until shortly after she and Kaminari had begun dating, and he'd bounded up to her with the biggest smile on his face after school one day. In front of all their friends, Kaminari had requested that she cuddle him right then and there.
Bakugou had laughed. Mina had laughed. Momo and Ojiro had politely tried to hide their laughter, but laughed nonetheless. And then there was Sero, who still made fun of Kaminari and jokingly asked Jirou if she could pick him up and cuddle him too to this day.
"Actually," Kaminari said, and seriously, he was almost more eager puppy dog than human, "can I brush your hair tonight?"
"What."
"Because it's so much softer than mine!"
"It is no– Never mind! I already brushed it, so–"
"Please?"
Kaminari, Jirou mused as she nibbled her bottom lip, was way too good at begging. He had the largest eyes, and he always succeeded in making them look so, so sad, even when they both knew he had absolutely nothing to cry over. "You can brush my hair," he offered, as if that were any form of motivation.
What happened to alpha males, Jirou wondered, all those tough guys that girls supposedly wanted – the ones who didn't cry over sad movies or accidentally use their girlfriends' shirts as hankies. The guys who always paid for dinner, wouldn't whimper until she killed the big, scary spider in his room for him, the guys who would grab her arm and initiate the first kiss and would make her feel weak in the knees.
And why didn't she care?
Kaminari didn't have anything under control. He wasn't the most reliable guy either. Instead of Kaminari taking care of her, or hell, even leaning on him halfway, she was usually the one smoothing band-aids onto his ouchies after training. It made her feel wanted. It was nice.
"I am perfectly capable of brushing my own hair," Jirou scoffed, even though she was already standing up to seek out the requested hairbrush and totally not at all charmed by Kaminari's wiggle of happiness. "Next you're going to ask me if you can try braiding my hair, or making us matching flower crowns..."
"Oh! Can I?"