“you’re The Only One That Makes Me Powerless Tonight”

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.

𝟓:𝟒𝟕 𝐀𝐌 | 𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔.

you’re not too sure what time it is, but you know it’s early when osamu lays himself over you, head digging into your chest as he steals your warmth. you groan, wrapping your arms around him as you pull the blanket higher over your bodies.

“what time is it?”

“almost six,” he hums. it’s quiet for a moment, you seem to be drifting back to sleep, and osamu grins in victory against your shirt that all’s gone according to plan as he drifts off himself.

until you speak up.

“wait a second. aren’t you supposed to be on the couch?” his body freezes for a moment before he’s clutching onto you tightly while you’re trying to shove him off. “samu! get off!”

“no!”

“i’m serious, i’m still mad at you,” you huff. he frowns (though it’s more of a pout) and simply shakes his head.

“‘m not lettin’ go. ma back hurts. i’m cold too.”

“miya osamu—”

and before you can finish your sentence, there’s a soft bite at your chin that makes you stop.

“don’t call me by ma full name,” he grumbles, settling back down into your chest. “‘s rude.” he has the audacity to grab your hand and plop it into his hair too, gesturing at you to play with the dark brown strands.

“did you just bite me?”

“and what if i did?” comes his quiet mumble, voice muffled by your shirt.

last night wasn’t exactly a big fight, it was a petty one if the both of you were being honest, but osamu should’ve admitted he was wrong, and his attitude was what landed him a spot on the couch. and to his dismay, you seem to fall asleep much easier without his embrace than he does without yours.

“what do you—you bit me,” you repeat incredulously. you smack his shoulder when he snickers quietly at your shock.

“didn’t even hurt, ya drama queen.” and you want to keep your facade of being mad, you want to tell him to go back to the couch until you’ve deemed he’s earned his spot back, but something about the way he nuzzles into you and kisses your collarbone before trying to fall asleep makes you give in.

he’s stubborn, you’ve come to know this a tad bit too well, but he’s also gentle. he plants one more spoonful of dinner to your plate when you tell him to stop, he pulls the sun visor down for you when the light shines in your face as he drives, he wakes up and puts socks on your feet when they feel like icicles against his calves, and he’s the only person who easily forgives you for your own stubbornness too—every time, without fail.

so you wrap your arm tightly around him, stroking through his locks as you mumble “you’re such a weirdo, you know that?”

“well, ‘s just the way i am, deal with it,” he mumbles back. and then you giggle, he laughs, you kiss his forehead, and he kisses your jaw—and you’re back to your usual routine, last night all forgotten.

“i love you,” you whisper.

“love ya too. and i also love yer cheeks, ‘m bitin’ them next.”

still firmly believe osamu’s love language is biting

If you see this on your dashboard, reblog this, NO MATTER WHAT and all your dreams and wishes will come true.

[3:09AM]

pairing | bakugo katsuki / reader

words | 555

warnings | mentions of blood, death, and nightmares.

—

“Katsuki! Just hold on, help is coming!” you let out desperately. You cradled his head in your lap as you held his face in your hands.

He slowly raised his arm, reaching out for you. You grabbed on with fervor and clasped it against your cheek.. You watched as he strained to take in a breath.

Blood continued to escape from his wound, it coated his clothes and your hands. “I love you,” he heaved. “I’ll love you forever.”

As the light slowly left his eyes you felt despair, “No, don’t leave me! Katsuki, please!” you begged with tears streaming down your face.

You awoke with a start, immediately checking on the sleeping male next to you, assuring yourself that he wasn’t hurt. You watched his chest move up and down, feeling relief as you saw him safe and sound. You rustled the blankets around, protectively wrapping yourself up as you tried to wease your way closer to Katsuki, as if becoming closer was possible. The space between your bodies was almost nonexistent.

You closed your eyes, in an attempt to fall back asleep, but no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t calm the rapid beating of your heart. As if he could feel your distress and the shuddering of your body against his, Bakugo stirs in his sleep, “what the hell happened to you?” his voice laced with sleep.

You look up from his chest, his presence already easing the tension spread in your body. “It’s nothing, just go back to sleep babe.” You didn’t want to make him worry so late in the night, or waste his precious time to sleep.

His eyebrow raises in disbelief, “you expect me to believe that while you’re fuckin’ trembling in my arms? Nice try dumbass.” he grunts.

You let out a soft sigh before burying your face in his chest, “I had a nightmare.” The consistent thumping of his chest alleviates the troublesome thoughts that plagued your mind. It was beating loudly, unlike in the nightmare.

He cards his fingers through your hair, “stop being such a whore.” he mumbles while pulling you closer.

“Huh?” you pull your head away to give him a stare of bewilderment, wondering what he means, “Katsuki, what the hell?” You can’t help but giggle at his strange accusation.

“You’re letting your dreams fuck you over.” he mumbles. “I’m supposed to be the one that fucks you. The only one.” An obnoxious laugh leaves your lips and he rolls his eyes with a slight smile appearing on his face. It’s silent for a while, so you take it as a sign and close your eyes in hopes of falling back to sleep until his voice disrupts the quietness. “Do you wanna talk about it or something?” his voice is deep, you can feel the vibrations rumble through his body.

You snuggle closer to his chest and let out a sigh in content, “No, I’m alright. You being here is enough to make me feel better.”

“Damn right I am.” he muses. His fingers don’t cease their movement through your hair.

You place a tender kiss on his jaw, “good night Katsuki.” He hums, and places a kiss on your forehead in reply. Finally, you close your eyes and allow yourself to succumb to sleep in the comfort of his arms.

"You're taking fucking forever in there."

You ignore Levi's irritated comment as you fiddle with the buckles on your shoes, too tiny to clasp easily and at a part of your ankle that requires your legs to be both tilted and bent to access them. A lethal combination in opposition to your dexterity.

"Are you sewing that dress by hand or what?"

His voice is nearer to your bedroom door now, a little bit more difficult to tune out with only the thin wood between you.

"No, my little mice helpers are doing that for me while I sing to them," you call back, but your words are light and flippant where his were heavy with the weight of his impatience.

"It wouldn't surprise me if you did have your own army of vermin with the amount of junk you've got in this apartment." You can't see Levi's face but you know he's looking around your living room with his nose crinkled in the particular way he does when he finds something distasteful.

You scoff as you finally succeed in doing up your second buckle. You lift your head so you can snap your rebuttal directly towards your closed door.

"Sorry we can't all live like minimalist monks!"

Levi snorts in reply. "I'm hardly a minimalist, I just don't accumulate needless things."

"You only own one bowl, one plate, and one mug."

You've known Levi since college, and you're fairly certain he has the same amount of possessions filling the entirety of his one-bedroom apartment that he did in his one-room dorm a decade prior. Probably the same ones, too.

"That way no one ever tries to come over for meals, it's clever."

"It's spartan."

There's a light thump on the other side of your door, and you wonder what it may have been.

"Didn't you ever read those Marie Kondo books?" Levi's voice is impossibly close now, like he's got his forehead pressed to your door. The thump makes a little more sense.

You laugh a bit to yourself as you imagine the way he's slumped against the expanse of wood, long-dressed in his suit and ready to go where you've taken your time getting ready. It's not your fault Levi showed up thirty minutes earlier than he said he would to pick you up for the company party your shared workplace was throwing that evening--though you should have expected it, given he's never been tardy to anything in the entire time the two of you had been friends.

"Can't say I did," you reply as you cross your bedroom, leaning over in your mirror to get one last close-up look at your face. You run your thumbnail against the edge of your bottom lip where your gloss was slightly ill-applied. "Why do you ask?"

"S'all that," Levi sighs, "'spark joy' bullshit. Don't keep things in your space if they don't make you happy or whatever."

You smile at your own reflection, eyes flickering to the image of your bedroom door you can see in the glass.

"And what if all my 'junk' makes me happy?"

There's some shuffling, and a moment later Levi mutters: "How can an issue of a magazine from 2010 make you happy?"

You suspect he's plucked an old copy of some fashion magazine off the stack resting on the bookshelf beside your door. You've actually been meaning to throw those away for a while, but you don't tell him that.

"How can you manage to not find happiness in anything?"

"That's not true," he argues.

"Oh yeah?" you counter, adjusting the way your necklace is resting against your collarbones. "Name something that you keep around just because it makes you happy."

"My kettle."

"Nope," you answer immediately, grabbing your purse off the end of your bed and heading towards the door, "that serves a practical, utilitarian purpose. I mean something useless that you just like. Just something you think is pretty."

You grasp the handle and pull it open, and you take Levi by surprise--he barely catches himself with a hand on either side of the door frame to keep from crashing into you.

There's a little pink mark at the centre of his brow where he'd been leaning against the door, and his eyes are wide.

"You ready to go?" you ask him, tucking your bag under your arm.

He's frozen, his expression still a little taken aback.

"What?" you ask him, suddenly self conscious. Your hands tug at the material of your dress nervously. "Should I change?"

"No," he says, soft but sure. "You look... fine."

Your face pinches.

"Fine?"

"Nice," Levi corrects himself, finally looking away. He fiddles with the stack of magazines he'd been complaining about moments prior. "You look nice."

"Wow, Ackerman, with compliments like that it's shocking that you have to take your best friend as your date to the company party and not one of the countless women I'm sure are knocking at your door."

Levi narrows his eyes, tossing you a withering look.

"You're the one who said we should go together."

"That's because I want to blackout at the open bar, and you're the only person I know who turns down a drink on the corporate dollar," you say with a bright smile.

Levi tuts in annoyance, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes wandering away from you again. "Charming."

A beat of silence passes.

Levi sucks in a little breath.

"You."

"Pardon?" you ask, and not even because he said it so quietly you barely understood him, but because it doesn't quite make sense.

"Something I keep around just because I like it," Levi says, his eyes fixed so intently on the outdated magazine stack that you're surprised the pages don't burst into flames. "Just because it makes me happy..."

Your heart stutters in its rhythm, a sudden weakness in your knees you can't chalk up to the height of your heels as easily as you may have liked to.

"...Just because it's pretty."

You swallow thickly.

His eyes meet yours.

The time and space between the two of you is thick and sweet like honey, and you wade through it slowly as you fight to find your words. You swear you can almost taste it as your tongue peeks out to moisten your already glossy lips.

"We should probably go," you say quietly, reaching out to adjust the lapel of Levi's suit. If your touch lingers a moment longer than it ought to, if your fingers brush against him in a way that friends' shouldn't, neither of you says anything about it.

Levi nods and clears his throat, taking the slightest step away from you towards your front door. "We gotta get you back before midnight after all, Cinderella."

You blink, a little confused, a little dazed, a little bit of a head rush still clouding your thoughts.

"The mice, remember?" Levi offers when he sees your curious look, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Oh," you laugh, letting your head hang as you nod slightly. "Right."

The two of you make your way down to the parking lot outside of your apartment building towards Levi's car, and you watch as the lights flash when he unlocks it.

"I've got two mugs, by the way," Levi says as he pulls the driver's side door open, and you pause with your hand on the handle of your own. He looks at you over the roof of his car, his eyes suddenly firmer than you'd seen them all night. More insistent. More sure.

You tilt your head, confused.

He ducks down to slide into his seat, but not before calling back to you one last time:

"The other one is yours."

i love how delusional some articles of clothing are, like you read the tag and its like “hand wash only/tumble dry on low” son you are a cotton tshirt. youre going in the warsh and whatever happens in there is in gods hands

well pee in a can and call me pie

Nothing just angry sex w/ Bakugou

Not even really angry sex, more like jealous sex cuz that got me- •/////•

GODD, YES. Gonna pass out, this idea is just ... yum. sorry if this isn't coherent/good, I wrote this with very little sleep

I imagine Bakugou is actually quite secure in his relationships, he knows you have eyes for no one but him so it doesn't bother him so much.

But what if this was before you guys got together?

He hadn't made his feelings clear to you, yet, and when he sees that sleazy guy from the floor below in the agency chatting you up at the coffee machine. It has his stomach twisting uncomfortably, his heart dropping to his stomach and he's actually jealous. Jealous of the way you smile at the guy so easily, laugh along with his jokes and he wonders why you're not like that with him.

Bakugou knows it probably looks sketchy when he's cornering you after hours of work, everyone but the security guard who works on the ground floor is gone. He could see the surprised look on your face when he manages to get you pressed against the corridor wall, both his hands pressed on the wall on either side of your head to really cage you in. Didn't even give you the chance to speak, all he could think about is the way you were smiling earlier.

His lips are on yours, and he fully expects you to slap him and push him away but you don't, which only confuses him more. You moan into the kiss and it's all the permission he needs to hoist you up to his height, keeping your back to the wall with your legs tightly around his waist. It escalates pretty quickly, his feelings spilling freely whilst yours finally bubble over the edge.

Bakugou would've never known you felt the same way about him, that you were pining for the grumpy boss. It has him full of excitement but that lingering caress of jealousy has him being a little more forceful in his kisses. It's as if he's trying to imprint himself on you, to make sure you never forget the way his lips feel on yours. Or how his hands fit perfectly on your thighs when he's finally laying you down across his desk in his office after having walked you there.

He wants you to know how expertly he can take care of you, so his hands move precisely yet his touch is still soft when he settles between your thighs finally. It's the only real calm before the storm, his lips murmuring praises against your cheek whilst he works you open for him on his fingers.

The sex itself does start out softer, he's still overwhelmed with the fact that he really has you underneath him finally. Your moans are sweeter than anything he's ever known, your hands soft against his shoulders when he hunches over you to lay delicate kisses along your neck, up along your jaw until he's next to your ear so you can hear the low groan leaving his lips when you squeeze around him.

That's until he again is hit with the remembrance of that fucking idiot at the coffee machine, he had almost forgotten about the incident until you smiled up at him and he's fucking into you a little harder, subconsciously squeezing his hands at your hips a little firmer to make sure you don't escape from his grasp. Manhandling you into a different position, has you bent over his desk on your tiptoes and a hand splayed across your lower back. His eyes locked onto the place where the two of you are joined, and it has him nearly snarling like some wild dog.

"Hah, knew you wanted me, sweetheart." He comments, a pretty moan leaving his mouth when you flutter around him at the sound of his voice. "I knew you'd never go for that fucker from accounting."

You can't even really reply or think of just what the fuck he might mean when he's pushing his hips forward more, towering over you to really push his cock deeper into you at an angle that has you moaning sloppily against the mahogany desk. "Oh," you moan, eyes rolling into the back of your head when his hand joins in between your thighs to pinch and swirl against your clit. "Oh fuck, 'm gonna—"

Bakugou fucks you through your orgasm, prolonging the pleasure until you're writhing beneath him. Your hips bucking back into him and he has to use both his hands on your waist to keep you pinned beneath him whilst he drives his cock into you until he's spilling deep inside of you. He knows he shouldn't have, but it was like some primal desire. A carnal need to mark you as his, and what better way than filling that pretty pussy with his cum?

No man will ever make you feel that full again.