Megumi Babysitting ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )

'Revenge is bad' to YOU. i love when a character destroys everyone who wronged them. i love when they get to bite and maim and tear and rip and scratch and kill. Sorry ur catholic about it but i'm different

She is the poem - June Bates

011925. cw | slightly suggestive (?) i hate him (affectionate)

if tsukishima kei learns the full extent of you losing your mind over the minuscule of things with everything he does,

babe, you’re done for.

if he learns that removing his glasses while kissing you makes your stomach do saumersaults, or when he fixes your clothes casually; smoothing down your skirt or adjusting your shirt, hand on your waist. or when he cups your face and squeezes both of your cheeks together, when it shows that he loves the physical touch in ways that feel crude if you say it aloud. in ways that no one else can speak about, makes you so mushy with him. to the point that it makes you sick, head throbbing.

if he learns that you find his jealousy kind of attractive, all cutting and ruthless, snappy. that you're totally not weak in the knees. if he learns that whenever he leans in whenever you speak is the cause of why you feel flustered, when he hums softly in question, tilting his head, or when he just hook you in his arms to get closer.

god. he will take absolute pleasure in pushing those buttons even more—actually, he’d press them with the precision of someone who knows exactly how far he can go to leave you reeling, all while pretending it’s no big deal.

and this is exactly what happens, as expected, but no less frustrated.

when he realizes how much removing his glasses during a kiss messes you up, he’d start doing it slow and methodical, taking his time to set them aside while giving you that piercing look, like he knows exactly what’s coming next. “what, nervous?” he’d ask, leaning in just a fraction, his tone laced with mockery, but his lips soft when they finally meet yours.

those casual touches? forget it. his hands—though he would ask first—roam your body and let them linger around your waist dangerously longer than necessary, you're not making it up now, you know you feel the slight squeezes his does on your skin, letting his fingers graze, just enough to send shivers down your spine.

when he holds your face in one hand, there’s something about how his thumb lingers near your jawline or how he leans in just a little too close. it’s playful, sure, but there’s a tenderness beneath it that leaves you spinning. because he knows. he knows all too well.

it's game over when he finally does this—one arm braced above your head, his whole figure towering over you, casting a shadow which makes him look ten times more insufferable. you cannot breathe.

his lips hover just shy of yours, so close you can feel the warmth of his breath. “do i really make you that nervous?”

"fuck off."

"really? that’s all you’ve got? how original.”

“kei, i swear to—” you start, but the words catch in your throat as his thumb brushes the curve of your jaw, the touch barely there but devastating all the same.

“what? gonna tell me to stop?” the glint in his eyes turns playful, pupils dilated, “you’re all talk, aren’t you?”

your hands twitch at your sides, torn between shoving him away and pulling him closer. “i hate you,” you hiss, but it lacks any real bite.

“sure you do,” he says, his tone dripping with mockery, and then—because of course he does—he closes the infinitesimal gap between you, his lips brushing against yours with infuriating slowness.

he kisses you chastely. it feels so wrong with how he already built so much tension. that this all just a stupid game he can easily control.

there’s a distinct edge of smugness to it, like he’s savoring every second of your undoing. when he pulls back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours, the smirk is still there, lingering at the corners of his mouth.

“still want me to fuck off?” he asks, though he already knows the answer to it.

you can only scoff and roughly smack your lips against his in a solid, and very straightforward reply. your heart pounding so loudly it drowns out everything else.

he relents to you just as easily, this is why he simply can't get enough of you.

my stupid writers block is not making me write properly for the hershey’s kisses mini series so i had to pull this stupid drabble outta my sick ass (coughing loudly as we speak)

Of beauty marks - Iwaizumi Hajime

"Iwa-chan doesn't have any beauty marks," Oikawa points out, his voice obnoxious and annoying and-

"He does," you disagree without thinking about it. "On the back of his right elbow, for example."

Four sets of eyes flicker to you and you bite your lip and curse your tongue.

"How would you know?" Oikawa asks, his voice low and daring, like a trap. His eyes pose a challenge, too. Iwaizumi stares down at the table, like he can't believe he's having this conversation in the middle of lunch break, and Hanamaki and Matsukawa... well, who knows what they're thinking, really.

"I'm sitting behind him," you point out. "And he wore short sleeves yesterday."

-

You stare in disbelief. When you accepted the position of Manager of the Seijoh Volleyball Club, you hadn't considered meeting any classmates there. Iwaizumi looked more like a Baseball Player, Oikawa was annoying enough to win every debate he started, and Hanamaki and Matsukawa... well, who knows what they're into, really.

But now they're all here, right in front of you, and shirtless too.

Your eyes flicker over the beauty marks on Iwaizumi's back. They're scattered, like pins on a map. You can't help but think of the saying, and wonder how many past lives Iwaizumi might have had. Or maybe just one overeager significant other.

"You're staring," Oikawa points out with a mean grin.

You send one back. "Get dressed then. You're asking for it."

-

"Need help?" You ask, when Iwaizumi appears next to you after training.

Iwaizumi nods, head bent. It's rare to catch him alone like this. He's flexing his fingers, but keeps his elbows locked to his side.

"I think I injured my elbow," he mutters under his breath. "I don't want to make a fuss about it."

"Want me to check?"

He nods, though jerks his head. "But not here. I don't want-"

"Iwa-chan!" Oikawa sings and you lean around the Ace to stare down the Captain.

"Your boy-crush can wait," you holler back at him. "Iwaizumi needs to help me first!"

"Rude!" Oikawa pouts but turns back to the others.

Your hand curls around Iwaizumi's elbow instinctively as you lead him out the door, the equipment bag now heavy on his shoulder. Your pointer finger brushes over something and you know, without having to check, that it's a beauty mark, slightly raised.

You wonder about the intimacy of kissing that spot, a hidden place, love tucked away like a secret.

Iwaizumi shivers and you apologize, but the feeling lingers, the thought has etched itself into the canvas of your mind.

-

"Hey," you look up from your books, surprised to find Iwaizumi towering over your table, his face set into a scowl.

"Yes?"

"Are you free this weekend?"

You mentally check your calendar. "I think so, yes. How's your elbow?"

"Better," he grunts, one hand rising to grip his neck. You spot the beauty mark winking back at you with this movement and almost miss the hints of a blush on his cheeks.

"There's a firework at the park," Iwaizumi points out, looking pained now. "Do you want to join me... there?"

"Oh, who's coming?"

His face contorts for a moment. "Just... us."

You stare at him. He stares back at you. And then it clicks.

"Like... a date?"

"Yes. Please?"

-

"Call me Hajime, please."

You stare at the ceiling of your room, too wired to sleep.

A firework dances behind your closed eyes, but it's not the one you saw tonight. It's a flashwork of memories, of glimpses and stolen moments.

Hajime, smiling up at the sky. His hand around yours, dragging you along to the best spot. The way his face changes at the sight of a bug, delight turning his features younger.

You know the feel of his lips on your cheek, know the warmth of his hand and the taste of his first name on your tongue.

You curl your toes and bury your head in your hands, irrevocably in love.

-

"I miss you," Hajime mutters, bleary eyed and exhausted. He yawns. "I don't want to hang up yet."

"You have to," you disagree. "You need your beauty sleep."

"Who's idea was it anyway, to study in America?"

You laugh. "Yours, Hajime."

"Sounds fake. Sure it wasn't Oikawa?"

"Sadly so. Hey," you smile cheekily. "Are you wearing sunscreen?"

Hajime furrows his brows. "Course. Always."

"Goód, good. Don't want you to get any new beauty marks without me to check."

He laughs, belly-deep and carefree, before slipping out of his shirt in one fluid movement, twisting to turn his back to the camera. "Still the same, love?"

"Still the same."

-

You find Hajime at the window, back bare, hair a mess.

"Hey," you lean into him, press a kiss to the beauty mark right on top his shoulder blade. "What's so interesting out there?"

"We're married," Hajime points out, his voice airy and dreamlike. "We're really married."

"Hmm," you kiss the next beauty mark, the one right above his spine. "Did the view tell you that or did you figure that out yourself?"

He pinches the skin above your hip in retaliation. "You're pretty sassy for a newlywed."

"Doesn't feel that new," you admit. "Feels like we've been married forever."

"Yeah?" He doesn't try to turn, rather takes your hands in his, rubs his thumbs over your wrists. "In a past life, maybe."

You laugh at the thought. "Oh, so I was the overeager significant other that got you those marks, eh?"

"Like it could have been anybody else.

for @chimielie and @seiwas-interact bc I was inspired by this post

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wow. thanks. this ruined my year.

just in case // katsuki bakugou

emergency contacts were something you never considered important, you knew if anything had happened you’d tell them to call your significant other, but for some odd reason katsuki threw a tantrum until you added his number to your emergency contacts and added him as a legacy contact, allowing him to access your data if you ever died. 

just in case. 

you didn’t remove him, even after the breakup. you laid on your side, nuzzling into the covers with your phone in one hand as you reviewed your details, updating the necessary information. you finally reached it. his name with an orange heart next to it. you didn’t bother changing his contact name or deleting it too, it felt like a waste of time. you placed your phone onto pillow next to yours, the very same pillow katsuki once fell asleep on. 

you’d be a formidable liar if you ever said you didn’t miss waking up next to him, as the soft hues of daylight shone onto his soft skin, his blonde hair gleaming with life, as you placed a kiss on his forehead. the memory lulling you into a deep sleep. 

you woke up in ice cold sheets, no form of body heat from the empty space next to you, no snoring, just quiet.

following the cycle you did every single day, shower, go to work, get into your car and drive back home. 

“good evening, this is Jaku General Hospital, am i speaking to Katsuki Bakugou?” 

“yes you are.” 

“i regret to inform you that [y/n] [l/n] has sadly passed away, we decided that we should call you first since you were part of her emergency contacts, may i ask what is your relationship with the deceased?” 

katsuki felt his grip on his phone slip, finally clenching it harder, “boyfriend.” 

“do you remember the key to access her details, you’re the only individual she has added to her legacy contacts list” 

how could he forget it, he made you do it after all. 

“hello? sir? are you there?” katsuki placed the phone down as incoherent words exuded his phone, he could still remember the day he pressurised you into adding him onto your emergency contacts list, you were persistent in ignoring such fimble things, yet katsuki didn’t give up. 

receiving your belongings in a small tray, he picked up your phone, your lockscreen displayed a picture you took with him when you two first started dating, you looked so different. you looked happy. 

“passcodes still my birthday huh?” 

like a dog | s.hinata

-> pairing: hinata shoyo x gn!reader | sfw | cw: lovesick shoyo | wc: 1080 | genre: fluff | mlist

-> synopsis: shoyo always thinks about you. 

SHOYO’s not ashamed to admit that he’s a little obsessed with you.

He thinks about you all the time. At work, at the gym, in the shower. Your face is so etched into his memory that you appear in perfect clarity, slipping into his mind during the most mundane of moments. He’s always been an appreciative individual, but loving you has increased his gratefulness by tenfold. Thoughts of you make the ordinary feel sacred. 

But as much as he loves to think of you, he appreciates being with you far more. 

He’s just gotten home from a long day of training, and while his muscles ached, it’s his heart that feels the real strain. As much as he loves his job, hours spent away from you are absolute torture. For every second he’s not with you, he finds himself craving your presence more than anything in the world. 

It’s on nights like this one, when his body is sore and mind’s sick from longing, that there’s only one cure for his ailment– you. 

When he tip-toes into the bedroom, his chest lurches with excitement when he sees your figure laying in your shared bed. You’re already tucked under the quilted covers, but he can tell your mind is far from sleep. Your tired eyes are illuminated by the faint glow of a computer screen, and he watches you sigh deeply as your lithe fingers idly type away.

You work too hard. 

He frowns. It’s a bit silly to think about himself chastising you for overdoing it. Shoyo’s always been a proponent of the “you can never work too hard” mindset. He’s a firm believer that there are no shortcuts in life. If you want to succeed, you must pursue your ambition in earnest and push yourself past your limits. 

He’s preached this mindset time and time again. During conversations with friends, interviews with the press, and with his teammates. 

But in spite of it all, he finds himself wishing you’d rest. Even if it was just for a little while. 

Along with subscribing to the idea that there is merit in working hard, he also believes that one should lead by example. So, with a quiet resolve, he decides to display relaxation to you.

If his own selfish desires also happened to be served in the process, then it was just a happy coincidence. 

A smile tugs at his lips as he crawls on the mattress to lay with you. Even without touching you, the radiant warmth of your body embraces his skin and instantly relaxes him. 

When Shoyo was younger, he used to think he’d never be tied down. He was always flighty, always restless, always chasing the next big thing. 

But then he met you. 

You made settling down something worth doing. You taught him– among other things– the beauty of slowing down.

You are his home. 

He inches closer, longing for your affection. You hum in acknowledgement, eyes fixated on the screen, lost in whatever it was you were working on. His heart swells at the way you bite your lip in concentration.

He loves how hard you work, even when you don’t have to.

But that doesn’t mean he won’t fight to steal some of your time for himself. 

“I’m lonely.” Shoyo drawls, pressing his cheek against your blanket-clad thigh and looking up at you in adoration. Sighing dramatically, he sprawls further across you, chasing the high of your attention like a dog begging for a treat. “Come hang out with me before I die of boredom.” 

You laugh softly, and his ears perk up at the sound. 

Hesitantly, you discard yourself of your laptop and spread your arms. Nudging your head, your voice is laced with a fond amusement. 

“C’mere.” 

He obeys your call in an instant and collapses into your embrace. It’s not long before he’s peppering your face with kisses. One kiss to the forehead, another to the eyelids, and one on the lips for good measure. They’re fervent, each filled with more energy than the last in an effort to convey just how much he loves you. 

He’s been waiting for this all day. 

“You missed me that much?” You tease through soft gasps. 

Grinning, he nods. Shoyo knows you. He’s come to recognize that beneath all the layers of sardonic sarcasm, there’s a faint fondness you reserve only for him.

“Even when I’m with you, I’m thinking about how much I’ll miss you when you leave.” He confesses, inhaling your natural scent as he curls into you. 

As sappy as it is, it’s the truth, and Shoyo is always unapologetically himself. 

You tilt your head, amused, “So why don’t you just stay with me all the time?” 

“Really?” His breath catches, and the excitable child in him rears its head. Gripping you tighter, he looks up at you with something hopeful in his chest.

When you nod, he unravels, and his smile widens. It’s bright and boyish and full of love. 

 “Okay.” He beams. “Lets. Let’s be together– always.” 

It’s a foolish declaration. Shoyo is old enough to know that by now. But when you comb your fingers through his hair in the way that you currently are, it makes him want to believe in the impossible. 

“You’re such a dork.” You chuckle.

He grins at the playful jab. He doesn’t mind when you tease him. He loves everything you do. You fill him with such a unique fondness that sometimes, he wishes he could just carve his heart out and give it to you. Maybe then you’d see how stained it’s become with your essence. 

Shoyo doesn’t think you’ll ever be able to fully comprehend how much he loves you, or how much these little moments mean to him, but that’s okay.

For now, he’s fine with just showing you.  

Settling down, he closes his eyes and lets his heart slow, basking in the feeling of your gentle hands tracing him. In your reverent touch, his once weary body is long forgotten. You make him feel warm all over, and he swears that you have the ability to transport him into a metaphysical space that transcends the limits of flesh and bone. 

In the quiet still of the night, with his heart full of love and your hands full of him, Shoyo affirms that he truly does love to think about you.

But nothing compares to the feeling of being here, in your arms.

–a/n: um…hey…haha…im not self inserting…you are…

shoyo tag for @cherrysurf

𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍

pairing: deaf!katsuki x gn!reader

warning: collage au, swearing, softsuki, pure fluff, all words italicized are meant to be spoken in sign language

notes: this might be my fave thing ive written so far

632 | Bakugou’s never needed words to tell you how he feels. The only problem?You never understand what he’s been saying.

Bakugou signs alot.

At first, you thought it was just muscle memory, like how someone might talk to themselves under their breath. He’d move his hands with sharp, purposeful flicks, his fingers quick and angry, like he was arguing with the air.

But he always signed to you.

You noticed it when he’d glance your way mid-conversation, hands spelling out something with too much intention for it to be coincident. You didn’t understand a word, of course, and he never explained himself. He’d roll his eyes or scoff when you asked. Saying something like figure it out if you’re so interested, but even with his dismissal— he kept doing it.

When he was annoyed with you, his fingers moved fast.

On the rare chance you made him chuckle, he’d sign something slow and subtle, hidden behind his dumb smirk and eye roll.

When he looked at you too long, he’d blink, sign, and look away.

It wasn’t until weeks later, when you finally decided to take a crash course in ASL at your campus library that the words finally started to come together.

“Thanks for saving my seat,” you said softly, placing your bag down beside him. He hums, nodding, red eyes never leaving your own and it’s enough to make your face heat. You’d always thought Bakugou was good looking, but for the longest time, you kept your distance. That is, until he showed up to the lecture one day reading one of your favorite books, and something about that felt like an opening. Since then, sitting next to him became a habit you looked forward to more than you’d admit.

Your other friends liked to joke that you’d worn him down. That you annoyed him into a friendship.

But every time you walked in and found his bag already nudged off the chair beside him, saving the seat just for you, it felt like the smallest kind of miracle.

He never said much about it. Never made a show of saving your space, but he did it every time.

Bakugou shrugged, his hands move fast. You look… tired?

You blinked. “Wait, I— did you say I looked tired?”

He froze. His brows furrow, eyes narrowed. A tiny break in the confidence that was so Bakugou it practically had its own gravitational pull.

“What the fuck," you heard him mumble. It makes you laugh.

He’s quick to sign again. You understood that?

You bit your lip, suppressing a grin. “A little. I’ve been uh—“ You cut yourself off, your own hands coming forward. Learning.

Bakugou scowled, but his ears were tinged red. He signs again, how? you stalking me now?

“No,” you said, laughing. “I took some classes in the library. Besides you're the one who’s been talking at me this whole time. I finally decided to catch up.”

His hands lifted. It is then that the piece start clicking. If you had learned what he was saying than that means... his eyes narrowed.

What else have you seen?

You pause. Beautiful, he had signed once. You’re beautiful.

Another time: I like your laugh. It sounds like wind chimes. The words 'Wind chimes' was a hard one to figure out for sure.

Once: I wish I could kiss you without making things weird.

You shook your head gently. “Beautiful a couple times... but that's all I remember."

Bakugou exhaled sharply. That's all you remembered!? He's going to fucking explode, dear god. He can feel the heat traveling down his neck. His fingers twitched like he wanted to deny it, like he wanted to scream just to redirect the attention.

Instead, he groaned. Looking away before signing something slowly— hands pausing just enough to make sure you’d catch it.

I can help you remember the rest.

You smiled. Yes. I'd love that

wow i really like this song i think i’m gonna listen to it 1 maybe 60 more times

˚.🎀༘⋆ too sweet. ft ; katsuki bakugou

you’re up as the sun rises slowly, enjoying the golden hour, watching the soft golden hue reflect onto katsukis face, while your husband wakes up just before lunchtime, joining you in the kitchen as he hugs you from behind, grumbling into your neck as he takes in the scent of whatever you’re cooking. 

katsuki prefers his coffee black and pure, while you enjoy it sweetened and with a dash of milk, he’d tease you for your preferences, but as he watched you indulge into your daily coffee, his lips formed a smile, he wanted every evening to be like this, and he’d do anything to make sure it happens. 

you prefer your drinks with a mixer, while katsuki drinks it straight from the bottle. although, he didn’t like his alcohol mixed with something extra, katsuki still shared a drink with you of your choice, he knew drinking it neat would upset your tummy, but he didn’t mind sacrificing his favourite, just for his girl. 

while you preferred the sweetness in life, able to eat half a jar of toffee and not gag, katsuki despised it, preferring, chilli flaked food. katsuki loved the burn it left on his tongue. in short, katsuki and your preferences described the souls of you two, yours was soft and tender, caressing the finer things of life, while katsukis was rough and pointy like the ends of knives. that’s where your softness came in, because no matter how hard katsuki stabbed you with his pointed edges, your cotton candy-like soul just bounced off the edges. you fed each others souls, just what the each needed. 

proving that, opposites attract.