𝟓:𝟒𝟕 𝐀𝐌 | 𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔.

Need this energy right now.

tw: cheating accusation

“Are you fucking her?”

Katsuki stands. With a slow, deliberate movement, he places both hands on the table and leans forward, those vermilion eyes finding yours in an unblinking stare.

“You wanna repeat that?” his lip arches in disgust, “Because I’m pretty sure I misheard you.”

Your heart beat buzzes across your skin. Anxiety eats at you, but the anger and pain pushes you forward. “Are you fucking her?" 

Bakugo doesn’t move, but the vein on his jaw grows more defined as he grinds his teeth together. "Why would you ask me that?”

“You’re not saying no.”

Keep reading

want this to be me

[03:47]

it was the sound of crashing pots and pans that woke oikawa up in the dead of night.

the boy instinctively reached out to the side of the bed, searching for any signs of you but you were gone. oikawa sighed as he turned onto his side, catching sight of the time before he mentally facepalmed. it was almost four in the morning, the boy thought, why in the world were you awake?

and so, in searching of answers to his questions, the boy pulled himself out of bed, padding out of the bed room and into the kitchen, the newfound bright light making him squint as he caught sight of you standing over the oven, eyes glued to the small timer displayed on the front of it.

“good morning,” he mumbled rubbing his eyes.

the sound of oikawa’s voice made you jump as you turned around to see a very sleepy version of your boyfriend, his slightly dazed eyes a significant contrast to your rather panicked alarmed ones. “shit,” you cursed out, walking towards the boy. “go back to bed, sorry for waking you,” you added as you began to push him back to the bedroom.

but oikawa gently removed your hands from him as he stood firm. “no, no it’s fine,” he mumbled. “why are you awake?”

“shit,” you sighed.

the boy laughed. “why is you being awake a bad thing?”

“kind of?” you answered. “i mean i did end up waking you, sorry about that.”

“no it’s ok baby,” oikawa reassured, voice as soft as the small smile on his lips. “now why are you awake?”

“this is gonna sound stupid,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair.

“i’m all ears,” oikawa answered, now much more conscious than when you first saw him.

“ok fine,” you mumbled. “i had a dream about how i owned a bakery and how i baked a bunch of different sweets right?”

“yeah go on,” oikawa nodded intrigued a small smile curling on his lips.

“well, i remember baking a shit ton of chocolate chip cookies right? and before i could hand them out or sell them or something, i don’t know, i woke up, but here’s the thing,” you answered as oikawa followed along with your rather comical yet interesting story. “i ended up remembering the recipe to bake them.”

“so you remembered the recipe from your dream?”

“i mean i guess so.”

“how does that even work?” oikawa blinked before laughing.

“if i knew i would tell you,” you shrugged. “but anyway i woke up with a craving and a recipe and now i’m cooking before i can forget.”

“well that explains why you’re baking at three am,” oikawa mumbled with a sigh. “even if it’s for a rather weird reason.”

“hey! i was interested why my dream left me with a full recipe for cookies!” you exclaimed. “i just had to try it.”

“you really intrigue me sometimes love.”

“well that makes two of us,” you laughed as the oven went off, almost on cue. your eyes lit up at the sound before running back to the kitchen to go get them as oikawa watched on, a lovesick grin on his face as he watched you with adoring eyes.

you pulled the cookies out of the oven with a bright smile on your face, considering it was almost four in the morning. “wanna try them?”

“your mysterious dream recipe cookies?” oikawa teased. “of course.”

he walked up to you in the kitchen as you took the cookies off of the pan and onto a plate. the boy examined the cookies, nodding almost in approval at how they looked. you looked over at him. “what expected them to look like shit?”

“no,” he answered. “i just didn’t think you’d properly bake them at three in the morning.” he answered with a smirk, to which you hit him in the arm.

you rolled your eyes as you grabbed two fresh cookies off the plate. the two of you held up your cookies, looking to each other with admirable smiles. “to weird dreams.” you smiled.

“to mysterious recipes.”

“and to the loving boyfriend who would support me if i became a baker.” you giggled before the two of you took a bite, the cookies ending up much better than you had expected. “how is it?”

“write down the recipe,” oikawa answered before taking another bite. “i don’t want you forgetting this one.”

you laughed before grabbing a sheet of paper.

“way ahead of you.”

hey hey thanks for reading!!

for @maisbunny​ - thanks for being my therapist these past few days, kisses i love u

reblogs are incredibly appreciated <33

"i find myself running home to your sweet nothings"

summary | it’s always a rough day for katsuki. hero rankings and PR nightmares every time he opens his mouth. but he gets to come home to you

pairing | bakugo katsuki x fem!reader

word count | 840

warning | soft!domestic katsuki, fluff.

a/n | this is very literally based off sweet nothings by taylor swift, so you can listen if you want the full experience. also, i haven't posted in two months, so i'm sorry if this sucks. <3

—

katsuki drops his bracers at the door with a heavy sigh. he's only just got his boots off and tucked in the corner, when he hears your voice calling him from the kitchen.

"'suki?"

he feels the smile pulling at his lips entirely unbidden.

the soft notes of that song that's been stuck in your head (and by extension, his) plays from the speaker in the corner.

"hey honey," you smile, leaning up to give him a kiss when he's in range.

he'll never be able to explain how that title makes his heart clench. he couldn't verbalize how every title he's obtained has not mattered until you gave him that one. pro-hero, number 2, explosive, dynamight.

your title feels so intimate on your lips, reducing him to the man who would fall at his knees for you.

not a pro-hero or number 2. not a ticking time bomb or a hot-head.

just your honey. your husband. yours, yours, yours.

"how was your day?" you ask, still stirring the pot as you turn the stove down.

"it was alright," he mumbles. in truth his day was rough, and he's not ready to talk about it, and he knows you can tell by the way you reach your free hand out to swipe your fingers along his cheek.

you smile up at him, pinching his cheek. "you wanna wash up? dinner's almost done." when he nods slowly, closing his eyes against the feelings of your fingers, you give him a little laugh.

in the bathroom, he works with the skin care products you left on his side of the counter, the dry winter air has been harsh on his quirk and his skin.

he thinks back to the agency, to the hero rankings, to the disapproving stares of civilians when he lets out loud curses and swears. the scolding he received from his manager today. the article comparing his pros and cons against the number 1 pro hero deku.

the water runs over his chest as he tilts his face into the stream, still trying to catch his breath from the incredibly long week he's had.

by the time he's toweled off and dressed in his sweats, the tension has worked it's way up into his back and across his shoulders.

"katsu?" your voice rings out and he's immediately following the sound back to the front door. he snorts when he sees you trying to push his bracers into the corner near his shoes. "how the hell do you put these things on for hours at a time? oh my god."

bakugo only laughs when he picks up both bracers with ease, your shocked gasp ringing out in the hallway.

"you're so strong, katsuki."

and that's it. your praise comes so easy. the fantastic feats that he performs still awe you. even something as simple as his above average strength elicits cheer from you.

it doesn't matter that he does it everyday, or that it's expected of him, you treat every act like it's the most incredible thing you've ever seen. and bakugo tries to fight the blush creeping up on his cheeks when you say these things.

even after all these years, he hasn't gotten used to your praise.

you're quickly setting a plate in front of him, taking the seat right next to him. recounting the events of your day, catching your boyfriend up on your workplace drama, and your recent purchases is enough to take you both through dinner.

by the time you've got him laid on the couch, your favorite candle is lit in the middle of the coffee table, and you two are talking softly.

his head rests on your chest, his ear pressed right over your heart. your fingers work softly against the ache in his shoulder, somehow finding the right spots to touch. these are nights when he needs you to take him down and you always do so with ease. he groans softly at the tender strength in your touch.

"i like the way you sound."

and there you go again. how do you split him open with a just a few words?

"its so pretty. especially when you talk, and when you laugh, i think that's my favorite sound."

you're calling him pretty. like his body isn't a fucking live wire ready to go off when he sweats. like the natural production of his glands don't cause explosions. like people aren't out there wondering if he should be a villain because of the force of his quirk.

of course the power thrumming through his veins is nothing compared to you. to the person he is when he's resting between your legs, letting you pet and coo at him until he's pliant and soft.

you bathe him in compliments, your adoration of him washes the shitty week off his skin and coats him in a thick layer of your love.

his prickly edges become rounded and soft against your gentle touch. refining him to be composed entirely of your sweet nothings.

—

-William Wordsworth

I mean yeah he’s evil and all but what if I were his favourite

to pretend: to make as if; to put on an act.

megumi angst - the extra heart shattering kind

warnings: none i think, just a wedding and a sad sad reader

“y/n?”

megumis eyes gaze adoringly into yours and his voice is clear in the silent barn, decorated heavily with blue flowers and white ribbons. since you were kids this barn was a haven for you, set on the bank of a softly flowing river, amplifying the shrieks of joy from you and megumi as you caught the slippery toads that slept in the corners or took turns reading long and exciting fantasy books to each other, acting out the scenes with thick twigs you’d found on the barn floor as wooden swords, stubby arms haphazardly swinging the sharp branches in each other’s faces. and now, it was housing a wedding, a wedding that you and megumi and your best friend rina had been planning for months. every detail from the thick soft napkins to the tablecloths draped over the long tables horizontally lined up on either side of the barn, making way for an aisle in the center. but it was all wrong.

“i’m not so sure about this gumi” you mumble to him, but rina steps forward confidently and takes your hands in hers.

“y/n, there is no one, no one, i would be more honored to have as a best friend,” her hands squeeze yours softly, emphasizing her words, “…and no one i would be more honored to have speak at my wedding.”

“my wedding”

you grimace at her words, but this is her day, her and megumis day, and you’d be dammed if anyone ruined the wedding of the two people you loved the most, even if that person was you. so you step up to the microphone and take it shakily in your hands. you make eye contact with megumi one more time, and you see his eyes sparkle with unshed tears as his hand reaches for rinas, who smiles genuinely and lovingly at you. you clear your throat, and begin the story that will today join the two in front of you together, as husband and wife, and forever tear you apart.

“when i first met rina,” you begin…

“me-gu-mi!” you whine, pulling at his sleeve,“you can’t be this antisocial forever, what if i die? then you’ll have no friends,” you state bluntly.

“but i don’t need other friends.” megumi pouts, trying to withstand the power of your twelve year old arms threatening to rip his sweatshirt apart. “why do we hafta go hang out with her?”

“because i wanna and because i said so,” you say stubbornly, and drag him over to the empty lunch table, save for a dark haired girl with her hair tied up with a red hair tie , “we’ll be like the three musketeers!”

the girl notices you and the grumpy megumi behind you , and her face lights up into a smile. “hi,” she says shyly, looking up at you, “wanna sit?”

“of course!” you say, letting go of megumis sleeve and eagerly slide into the seat next to her. “i’m y/n, and this is megumi,” you add, pointing to the dark haired boy occupying the seat next to you, “wanna be friends?”. the girl nods again, pointing at herself, “i’m rina” she introduces with a smile.

“…i think originally rina and megumi were,” you pause, thinking of the right word because you hadn’t practiced beforehand, hadn’t even had a draft because while you were able to force yourself to help with everything else, drowning in the work to forget who it was for, you couldn’t bring yourself to relive these moments any longer than you had to. “…weary of each other”, you continue, which earns a few chuckles from the audience.

“is that your brother?” rina whispers to you when megumi goes to throw out his trash, taking yours with him as well like he’s been doing since elementary, but leaving rinas with a glare that he knows will earn a pinch later on.

“no, silly,” you giggle,”he’s just my friend.”

“oh,” rina says, “i don’t think he likes me that much.”

“megumi just isn’t good with new people,” you reassure her, “i’m sure he’ll warm up to you.”

“…but it was as if a magnetic force drew them together,” you paused, the physical hurt of saying these words numbing your mind, “they couldn’t stay away from each other if they wanted.”

“gums i can’t make it to the library,” your voice is lined with annoyance and disappointment, clear even through the phone, “you and rina’ll just have to stay without me.” megumi hmphs from the other end but reluctantly agrees to stay for your sake, you want them to be friends, you were tired of the tension between them during those lunches, and you’d grown close to rina, you wanted her to stay, and that meant megumi had to accept her as well. but accept was a pathetic word to describe what came next. first it was subtle. your phone pinged and you looked down to find a text from megumi. “me and rina are going to that bakery downtown, wanna come?” you frowned, when did they make those plans? maybe at the library, maybe they exchanged numbers? but you shrugged it off, happy your two best friends were able to get along this well. then it sped up. you’d gone out shopping with your mom for birthday presents for your brother, and walking into a candy shop you saw megumi, pointing at different jars of candy next to a blushing and excited rina, who was doing the same. why were they here without you? it’s not that you wanted to control the friendship, but you were the three musketeers, the inseparables, yet you’d known nothing about this plan. so you slipped out and pushed it to the back of your mind.

“…and soon enough the inevitable happened,” you continue, and you see megumi wink at rina and a couple guests laugh at the exchange, “they fell in love. why wouldn’t they? they were p-perfect for each other.”

“y/n? can i talk to you?” rina says meekly, not quite meeting your eyes.

“of course rina! what’s up?” you ask, although some dark angry part of you already knows what she’s about to say. the same thing that megumi had said to you two weeks ago, sitting on your bedroom floor, fiddling with his fingers and pleading you not to be upset. “y/n i like someone,” he’d started, “she’s pretty and she’s smart and she’s everything i’ve ever dreamed of.” your heart races, you’ve liked megumi too, for the longest time, ever since that day he’d given you his umbrella and walked through the pouring rain with you to make sure you got to your house even though it was in the opposite direction of his. “she’s so caring and i’ve just realized how much more she means to me then a friend after all our years together. you nod shyly to megumi, and reach out to grab his hand, but he lifts it up and runs it through his hair. “so?” he asks you, “does rina like me back?”

“y/n?” you hear rina say, and you realize you’ve zoned out for most of her confession, too lost in the one megumi made about her. “does gumi like me back?”

“w-ahat? oh yes, yes he does!” you feign excitement, and push her out the door, “you should go find him! confess, it’ll go well i promise, he’s liked you for a while too.” and when she leaves you close the door and collapse, all hopes of megumi gone and down the gutter. even worse, you were all still friends, this was a relationship you would have to support, you didn’t hate either of them for it, you knew they were both exceptional people and you were happy for them, but at what expense?

”which brings us to now, this couple standing before you, two of the sweetest, most compassionate and kind people, and my two best friends, who are about to be wedded and deserve all the happiness in the world. i know how much you love each other, i can see it in your actions, the way he pulls out chairs for you rina, and cares for you even when you don’t want to care for yourself”, you say, remembering the time you’d spent hours packing and planning for a day at the museum together but megumi had texted you asking you to make up a reason to cancel because rina was on her period but too stubborn to cancel herself, “and the way she calms you and makes you happy, lights up the light in your eyes and warms your heart megumi,” you say, recalling the time megumi had broken his arm and you’d been there first since you were closer, him wincing when you hugged him and giving short tired answers to your questions, but lighting up when tina ran through the doors, seeing her eyes light up and look past you to him had hurt , seeing them hug and megumi not flinching once had hurt too. “i hope that you will forever be happiest together, and that the future holds nothing but good for you two.” a future i’m not in you think. “thank you.” you say and the tears flow as you step down from the stage and celebrate the joining of the man you love most with the woman you consider a sister. but your tears are hidden in plain sight, sheer overwhelming emotion, an outpouring of happiness it looks like to onlookers. but it is only the opposite. you slip away for the vows, you don’t think you’re strong enough for that after the speech you’ve just given, and eventually megumi finds you, sitting on the curving stairs leading up to the loft, crying softly.

“you ok y/n/n?” he asks softly, his thumb grazing your cheek as he wipes a tear away, but the action no longer flutters your heart, the heart in question too broken beyond repair it seemed, to ever flutter again.

“i’m fine gumi, i’m fine.”

if only you weren’t pretending.

milf (motivation i’d like to find)