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pls more mechanic katsuki, i’m going feral. i loooove your work btw, you’re curing my obsession ❤︎

no thoughts just bakugou at a car meet

drive safe // katsuki bakugou part two

part one

for when you’re sad or stressed

brush your eyebrows the wrong way

drink an entire bottle of water

wear some loose fitting clothes

walk on some grass w/o shoes

eat some greens

take a walk around the neighborhood

lie on the floor

lie on the couch

lie on the bed

call a friend

wash your face

get a massage

do your hair

open all the curtains

take a nap

order takeout

listen to a song from your childhood

dance in your pjs

read your favorite book

look through old pictures

take some new ones

pics of you (cutie!)

pics of your pet

pics of nature

pics of your friends

look in the mirror

remind yourself that you are so strong

you are so brave

you will get through this

it will be okay

just breathe

💜💜💜

reasons i haven’t replied back:

- i’m socially exhausted - i don’t have the time right now - i don’t know how to reply - i have a bad memory and got distracted - i’m having a depressive episode and don’t have the energy to socialise

not reasons i haven’t replied back:

- i’m ignoring you just because - i hate you - i’m fed up with you - i don’t want to be your friend anymore

Tell Me Where The Piece Go, 'Cause I'm Lost

CHAPTER SUMMARY: all you and megumi do is argue. and he's happy to leave you to your own devices, but after he and Gojo have a few drinks together, Megumi's lips begin to loosen in regards to you.

boyfriend!yuuji itadori x f!reader x bully!megumi fushiguro

WARNINGS : 18+, drinking, pining, arguing, etc.

WORDS : 5k

notes : kinda obsessed with megumi here idk xo

       LAST CHAPTER ┊ MASTERLIST ┊ NEXT CHAPTER

—

Gojo pulls up outside of your house and you can barely bring yourself to even look at the place. The home you built with Yuuji. The memories that you shared there with him and the romance that has bloomed into something so beautiful. You’ve allowed Megumi Fushiguro, your bully, to defile the blossoms with a litany of weeds. Weeds you could no longer fight or get rid of. They’ve taken root and as Gojo’s words replay in your mind, you know those roots will continue to grow.

You hadn’t noticed Megumi has been staring at you through the rear-view mirror the whole journey. But his gaze is intently fixated on you when Gojo parks outside of your home. He's focusing on your facial features. He was trying his best to decipher what was going on in your mind and what your next move would be.

To his surprise, his eyes widen when you fling the car door open and rush up the stairs to your front door. The speed in which you leave the car makes Megumi’s jaw lower slightly, his mouth agape. He catches himself, though, after hearing Gojo clear his throat and realise what he's doing.

They both deduce from the way you're frantically searching for your keys that you're crying. Eyes filled with tears and causing the world around you to be nothing but a meaningless blur.

“You wanna go help her?” Gojo asks, almost too quietly. Megumi barely hears him, his words almost being beaten by the sounds of the birds tweeting in the trees.

“This is your fault, you know.” Megumi groans back in response, “For pushing her. Shoulda just dropped it, Gojo. You’re making a big deal out of nothing. Why are you tryna paint a picture of something that isn’t there?”

Gojo sucks air into his cheeks and puffs it back out of his pursed lips, a crass sound accompanying it. He pushes his little round shades up into his hair; his shimmering, worldly eyes boring into Megumi as he forces his surrogate son to stare into them. He’s searching, Megumi thinks, searching for a weak spot in his armour to point out any lies.

“Sure.” he smirks, leaning back into his seat and unbuckling his belt, “But that’s not what I asked. Are you gonna go help the poor girl? She even left her bags in the trunk.”

Megumi scowls, a quick ‘tch’ leaving his agitated lips before he steps out of the car. He slowly approaches you, your bag tossed to the ground whilst you sit on your doorstep curled up into a ball and crying. You don’t even notice him getting closer to you. One minute your world is an unclear smudge through your sodden lenses, the next moment you hear the chain of your purse rattle and a giant standing beside you rifling through it.

You wipe your tears away hurriedly, still not completely clearing them. From the low angle you’re sitting in, Megumi looks like a giant. He looks like Toji.

He tests a few keys in the hole before he finally finds the one that works, slotting it in perfectly and turning the handle. He pushes the door open for you, but walks in first. It’s not surprising that he doesn’t offer you a hand up. So soon after telling you he loves you in a drug induced stupor and he’s back to his old self.

You toss your keys onto the coffee table carelessly before crumpling down onto the couch. Megumi isn’t beside you, you didn’t even notice him in the kitchen when you walked by. You’re happy to never look at him again, if possible. But he emerges, eventually. A tall glass of water with a few ice cubes in his hand. He pushes a coaster from the coffee table closer to you and sets it down.

“Are you— uh… Do you need anything?” he asks, stammering over himself. He pinches the end of his nose again and again to scratch it as he waits for you to answer.

“You can’t even ask me, can you? Were you going to ask i-if I’m okay?” you question. His eyes go a little wide, but it’s barely perceptible to you. He pulls his lips into a straight line and grunts at the unintentionally rude question.

“I was. I decided I don’t care.” he replies defensively, and you can’t help but scoff.

“There it is. God. I’m such an idiot.” you tell him. You pull the sleeve of your jacket over your hand and dab the ball of your wrist into your eye as you try and dispel anymore tears eager to line your vision.

“There what is? Why would I care to ask when you’re obviously not okay? I don’t have a time machine, O’Keeffe, I can’t make last night go away. There’s nothing I can do. We did what we did so there’s no use fuckin’ crying over it.” he bites at you.

“Don’t you think I know that?” you raise your voice a little, your words getting caught in your throat as tears begin to stream down your cheeks and your lips swell from the pressure of your mouth pulling and stretching to allow you to sob loudly. “You’re so fucked up Megumi, you don’t even realise it. You’re beyond help.”

“Shut up. If you’re gonna turn to insults you know who’ll win. You’re already crying babe, won’t take much to push you over the edge.” he explains.

“What is wrong with you? Do you hear yourself?”

“You wanted me last night. You’ve got such a fucking victims mentality, that’s what I can’t stand about you. You’ve been a victim your whole life and now you’re turning on me because you regret what happened. Newsflash, I’m not thrilled about it either.” he informs you. You don’t respond right away, more interested in wiping away your tears for the time being.

“You can’t keep getting away with this…” you sigh, wiping your nose and sitting forward on the sofa as you consider your next words carefully. “There is something seriously wrong with you, Megumi. I’ve known you and your M.O. long enough now to know you wanted this to happen over the weekend.”

“Huh? Are you joking?”

“This would never have happened if you didn’t pressure me into doing coke!” you yell, breaking down into sobs as you linger on the memory a moment too long. “You convinced me and manipulated me into doing so many drugs I’m surprised I’m even alive to talk about it!”

“You’re so fucking dramatic!” he yells back at you, turning away to pace around the room and rake his fingers through his hair. “Look, this is only a big deal because you’re making it one. I’m not gonna say anything and Gojo won’t either. If you keep your big mouth shut—”

“You don’t get it,” you start, interrupting his strategy. “I am so in love with Yuuji. It’s unconditional and I don’t doubt for a minute that he loves me too. I’m not scared to be with him or worried he’s going to have a change of personality from one minute to the next like I do with you.”

“And?”

“And, I know he’d do anything and everything to make me happy. I know he wants to be with me forever… And I love him so much, Megumi.”

He grits his teeth and his face scrunches tensely as he registers what you’re telling him. But he knew that already. He knew all of that but he still can’t help the irritating feeling gnawing at his insides.

“What’s your point, O’Keeffe?”

“How am I meant to be with him for the rest of my life if I don’t tell him the truth?” you finish, lip wobbling and beginning to bawl into your sleeves again.

Megumi looks down at you like you’re nothing. Your tears and emotions mean nothing to him as he watches your heart shatter over the breakdown of your relationship. His lips are back to being in a tight line and his green eyes glower down at you. You’re not even looking at him and you can feel the way they are burning into you. He went against his better judgement to come in here and try to help you. And you repaid him by telling him how fucked up he is. He has no sympathy for you. None. Because last night, no matter what the circumstances were, you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you.

“I don’t care if you tell him. It’s you who’ll get dumped by the end of it, not me. Do what you want O’Keeffe.” he turns away to walk out of the door, but you can’t let him go like this. Like he’s won a game of chess rather than destroying your life.

“Megumi, wait.” you call to him. He stops in his tracks, and then finally turns to face you once more. “I— I shared my body with you last night, Megumi. I risked everything that makes me happy… for you.”

He sighs, looking down at the ground before looking back at you. You back away when you notice him getting closer to you. It’s slow, deliberately intimidating and you can’t bring yourself to move away quick enough. You remember standing upright one minute and then falling back down onto the couch the next. His body towering over you and caging you between his arms. Your faces so close to each other your noses almost touched.

“Said you were lonely, baby. Wanted me because you were missin’ Yuuji.” he tells you in hushed tones. The memory of your words comes rushing back as you relive the incident that has lead to the two of you being like this now. “Victims mentality. I had nothing to lose and I was horny, O’Keeffe. You wanted me, and you could have said no.”

“But I—”

“Use all the excuses you want, princess. You wanted me. And now, you’re playing the victim. Because now you realise what you’ve done, and that you’ve risked everything to have it. To have me.”

“Do you love me, Megumi? Last night—”

“Are you fucking serious?” he asks, a gruff and infuriated tone lacing his words. “Use the fucking internet and look up the effects of E. You are somethin’ else, really. I told you. I wanted to get off, and you didn’t want to be lonely.” he pulls away so quickly from you that he creates a breeze. The air makes your tear-soaked cheeks cold. Your loose hairs flow and follow him. Your eyes are lifeless. You can’t hide how dead inside you feel.

You risked your perfect relationship with Yuuji Itadori for a meaningless handjob with Megumi Fushiguro.

Your former, or maybe still current, bully.

He decides enough is enough, heading towards the front door and slamming it after himself. You hear the passenger side door slam quickly after, but you don’t hear the car pull away. You quickly take the opportunity to google the effects of ecstasy, curiosity getting the better of you. Although, you feel like you already have a good idea what it’s gonna say thanks to Megumi’s patronising response.

How you might feel: ‘loved up’

You are such a fool. You’re so embarrassed and you wish you’d never opened your mouth to ask such a stupid question.

Of course he doesn’t love you.

You don’t even want him to love you, but it at least would have given just cause for him to thrust all of this pain onto you. If he were jealous of Yuuji. If he was trying to break you up and wanted you for himself.

But, really, you could have been anyone. You were just… there. It was the right place and the right time for Megumi. But the wrong place and time for you.

There is a soft knock on the door and you jump to your feet. Gojo peers inside with a guilty looking smile, pushing the door open with his elbow to let himself in with your bags in tow.

“It’s just me.” he greets you.

You’re deflated once again, falling back into the sofa. But now, you’re done. You’re exhausted and you can’t take it anymore. You lie down and close your eyes. It might all be a bad dream. Maybe you can wake up and be in bed with Yuuji holding you close. You’d give anything to hear him whisper good morning to you right now. Anything at all to giggle and squirm as he begs to eat you out before you go to class.

“Is there anything I can do, sweetheart? Anything at all, you name it.” Gojo queries, hoping to coax you out of your depressive state.

“Please… just go.”

He sighs, placing down your bags and heading for the front door.

“You have my number. If you need anything please call. Even if it’s just a friendly ear.” he smiles. You look at him briefly before observing the way the ice cubes are moving in the drink that Megumi got you. Without another word, Gojo carefully closes the door behind him. And finally, finally, you hear the car pull away.

—

“Do you wanna—”

“No, Gojo, I don’t want to talk about it.” Megumi answers before his surrogate father can finish speaking. Gojo chuckles which irritates Megumi even more. “Stop laughing before I punch you.”

“I was actually going to ask if you’d like to go for a drink somewhere.”

Megumi’s body stiffens before exhaling a heavy sigh of relief. His cheeks are flushed pink with vague embarrassment and even he finds himself laughing a little. He nods, thinking the sound of something alcoholic sounds just fine.

“Leave the car at my place, I’ll ask my sister if she can take us.” Megumi insists. Gojo nods, agreeing with his idea. It definitely beats paying taxi fares.

Earlier, you mentioned Megumi being manipulative. And he isn’t ashamed to admit to himself that it’s true. He did manipulate you into doing drugs with him, but you did them nonetheless. And, somehow, manipulation is a skill of his that gets him through everyday life.

Like now, for instance.

Poor Tsumiki has been working all day, and she’s exhausted. But how could she deny her dear little brother a single thing in this life?

He barely walks in the door and he's already asking her to do things for him. She’s always so sweet and positive and it gets on Megumi’s fucking nerves.

And she can’t help but extend that kindness to Gojo when she sees him. She’s more than happy to drop her second father and beloved brother off wherever they need to go.

“Did you have fun on your trip, Megumi? I’m sorry I couldn’t get you.” Tsumiki breaks the silence in the car, eager to alleviate whatever tension is brewing inside.

“Not to worry, he was happy waiting for dad to pick him up. Weren’t you, Megumi?” Gojo grins in the backseat. Megumi cranes his neck to look back at him and scowl. “You know your brother, always finds a way to make fun for himself.”

“Is your classmate okay? Did they have fun? I felt so guilty when dad told me—”

“I’m fine. She’s fine. Drop it.”

Tsumiki feels her insides drop lower as she tries to determine whether she heard him right. She looks up into the rear-view mirror to meet Gojo’s eyes and then back to her brother.

“She? You were stranded with a girl?” she asks.

“Does it matter?” Megumi responds.

“Well, yeah! Kind of!” Tsumiki beams, doing her best to contain her excitement and be focused on the road. “I didn’t even know you made any friends at your new school, let alone a girl! And you shared a room with her? Oh my God!”

“Shut up. God I can’t fucking stand you, you’re so annoying.”

“Did you share a bed? Do you like her? Is she your girlfriend? Oh my God Megumi I’m so excited!”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Megumi bites at her loudly, stunning her a little and retreating back into herself.

“W-What?”

“You know I’ve brought girls home before. You’re acting like I’m a fucking virgin who’s never even talked to a girl before. This isn’t a big deal, at all. Why is everyone acting like it’s such a big fucking deal?” he complains, his heart rate increasing and his breathing becoming louder and heavier.

“No, I know. I’ve complained a fair few times about the racket you make when you bring girls over, I know you’re not a virgin. But… as far as I’m aware I don’t think you’ve ever been friends with a girl before. I’m sorry, I got excited.” Tsumiki apologises meekly. The car is silent, again. One beat too many to keep it from being awkward. But finally, Megumi speaks.

“We’re not friends. It just… happened. It’s complicated.”

“People say shit like that when they’re in denial, you know. ‘It’s complicated.’ I think little Megumi is in love, Tsumiki.” Gojo smiles widely, such a cheesy and aggravating smile that takes up the majority of his face.

“Gojo, I swear to fucking God.” Megumi grimaces.

“Wait…” Tsumiki thinks, turning a corner in the car. She’s almost gotten them to their destination, but now the cogs are whirring in her mind and she doesn’t want this conversation to be over. “It’s the girl I met not that long ago, isn’t it?” she wondered. Megumi raises an eyebrow, obviously confused.

“The one who’s friends with dad. Yuuji’s girlfriend. Was it her?” she asks again. Megumi forces his eyes closed, as much as he could before looking out of the window and nodding. “Oh! Well, I’m sorry for prying. I didn’t realise.”

She turns the car back on track and heads towards the bar they want to be taken to. Megumi’s brows furrow in confusion, though he doesn’t speak or look at her directly. Instead, he side eyes her. Trying to read her process that lead her to dropping the topic entirely. She parks outside of the bar, smiling gleefully at her brother.

“I should have known you were just taking care of your best friend’s girlfriend! You’re such a good boy Megumi, I’m so proud of you.” she tells him, pinching his cheek like an overly adoring mother. Megumi’s eyes flutter shut as she tries to shut her words out and prevent himself from smiling or laughing. My God, Tsumiki is such an idiot. Although, ‘taking care’ of you is one way of putting what happened.

“Oh sweetheart…” Gojo sighs. Tsumiki turns back to look at him, confusion taking over her features. She cocks her head, prompting him to continue, but he doesn’t. “Nothing, thank you for the ride. C’mon Megumi.”

—

You haven’t moved from the couch in hours.

Since Gojo left, in fact.

You’d decompose here if you could.

But your bladder gets the better of you. You take the opportunity to get up and lock the front door and then go to pee afterwards. It’s so dark, now. Your eyes are swollen and puffy and you decide you should probably take yourself to bed. With your phone in one hand and your fluffy blanket in the other, you carry yourself up the stairs and into the second bedroom.

You aren’t sure if smelling Yuuji’s scent in your main room downstairs will make you feel better or worse.

And while you’re struggling to function normally. While your heart is decaying and you are finding it difficult to even turn the TV on for some background noise; Gojo and Megumi are having the time of their lives.

Gojo is on his fifth bottle of beer whilst Megumi has lost count. They are laughing, joking around and making memories that brutal hangovers will help them forget the following day.

They’re playing pool. Another hidden skill of Megumi’s. As Gojo takes a shot and accidentally pots the white ball, they both burst into a fit a laughter. Megumi picks up the white when it rolls through the table and lines up a shot he thinks will be perfect. And even if it isn’t, he gets two shots.

“I love Tsumiki,” Gojo smiles, wiping away a tear. “I can’t quite believe she managed to talk herself out of her suspicions.”

“She’s an idiot.” Megumi reminds him, potting the striped 13 ball seamlessly. He stands upright and changes his position, searching for his next target. “Stop talking about it. I’m still pissed about your pathetic little comment in the car.” he alerts him. Gojo’s relaxed pose turns steadier and more serious.

“Comment?”

“Forget it.” he responds, potting another ball. Striped 9. Gojo wracks his brain as he tries to remember what he said in the car. Something bothersome enough to make his son hold a grudge.

“Ah.” it comes back to him, but decides nothing more needs to be said. Megumi rolls his eyes and takes another shot, this time missing and potting Gojo’s solid 7 ball. Fuck. “Careful now… Going to form a habit of touching other people’s things.” he smirks, leaning over the table to try and take a shot of his own.

Megumi snarls but keeps his mouth shut. Gojo whistles and orders another two beers for the pair of them, noticing Megumi trying to slurp the dregs from his bottle to no avail. During the wait for their drinks, Gojo makes one shot and misses another. Megumi grabs his bottle hastily and drains the contents almost too quick to register. His Adam’s apple bobs as he downs the liquid in less than thirty seconds, and then he orders another.

“I’m a little worried about you, kiddo.” Gojo tells him. Megumi shakes his head, taking his next shot.

“Don’t.”

“I haven’t seen you in— We haven’t talked for— You’re a son to me, Megumi. I’m allowed to worry.” he finishes, taking a small sip of his beer.

“What do you want from me? Huh? To call you dad? Will you drop this conversation if I call you dad?” he slurs, staggering a little as he works his way around the table. “Okay dad. What do you wanna talk about dad?”

Gojo sighs, taking a bigger drink before setting it down and leaning against the pool table.

“It’s alright,” Gojo smiles.

“This fucking chick. I’m sick of her. Everyone’s in my business, no one cared about me before she came along and now everyone won’t leave me the fuck alone.” he explains. Gojo nods, wanting to display that he’s listening to him.

“There have been a lot of big changes in your life, Megumi. You moved back home. Toji is back. And your situation with this girl is clearly a heavy burden on your shoulders.” Gojo speaks as he chalks up his pool cue.

“Don’t even mention that bastard. I hate him and I hate her.”

“Megumi, try not to bite my head off but… Would you consider going back to therapy?” Gojo wonders. Megumi shakes his head and scoffs.

“Didn’t like it. Fuckin’ useless.” he announces. “And an- another thing about O’Keeffe, she’s just so perfect. Not, like, I think she’s perfec- perfect. But she thinks she is. Like she can’t do anything wrong. I hate her, I fucking hate her.”

“What happened today? When I wasn’t there.” Gojo wonders. Megumi’s eyes roll over white and he somehow manages to make his next shot despite him being able to see three white balls instead of one.

“She just blamed me for everything. Said it was my fault we hooked up even though she was crying about being lonely. Like… I mean…”

“What?”

“Okay, okay. Maybe it’s my fault. I got her to get high with me and she’s never— I don’t think she’s done drugs before? Can’t remember. Anyway. She went along with it. And we were both just… handjobs are nice, right? Fun and feels nice and getting to cum with someone is—”

“Keep it down Megumi.” Gojo warns him.

“What? Look, I could have fucked her but getting jerked off was enough, y’know? It was just nice. It was just really fucking nice and I liked it and I thought she liked it too. But n-now she’s worried about Yuuji and she’s pissed at me but she wanted it. I came, she came, and I thought it was all good a-and fine but she’s being a cunt now... and I hate her.”

“Do you… like her, Megumi?” Gojo probes.

“Are you— are you deaf? I said I hate her, you aren’t listening to me. I hate her.”

“But you’re upset that she’s mad at you.”

“Y-Yeah, so? Thought we were gonna be frien- fine. And she’s just making a big fuckin’ deal out of it. I just don’t… I don’t get it. It was nice.” Megumi rambles. Gojo nods again, knowing the conversation would be better if they were both sober. He’s making mental notes though. Making sure to lock away the information to discuss with him another time. “Like— Like her, tch. Dumb ass. Never even thought… For a second anything like that would happen between us. Especially after we kissed at her parents place and—”

“Back. It. Up. Cowboy. You hooked up before this?” Gojo interrupts.

“I— not really. We kissed. I kissed her. Dunno why, just felt like it. But she slapped me ‘n I just thought it was funny. Made her cheat on Yuuji and started keepin’ s-secrets.”

“Megumi…” Gojo sighs. “You felt like kissing her.”

“Yeah.”

“And you wanted to make her keep secrets from Yuuji… Something to eat away at their relationship.” Gojo continues. Megumi hiccups and his eyes squint. His body sways and the only balance he has is the pool cue between his fists keeping him upright.

“R-Right, so?” Megumi responds. Gojo smiles, gritting his teeth and it appears he’s more pained than joyous. He shrugs his shoulders and doesn’t say another word, hoping even in his drunken state that Megumi will connect the dots. Megumi’s body relaxes. He goes limp and the pool cue drops out of his hands. He falls backwards into the wall behind him and slides down until he’s sitting on the sticky flooring. Gojo rushes to him, crouching down on one knee and trying to get Megumi’s attention. “Oh fuck. Oh G-God. Gojo, n-no.” he stammers, not looking at Gojo but through him.

“It’s okay, Megumi. I’ll get us a cab and get us home.”

“N-No. Gojo, it’s not fucking alright. I like her, don’t I? I fucking l-like O’Keeffe. No no no, this isn’t right.” Megumi wrestles with himself. Gojo helps him up with one of his sons arms around his shoulders and leads him outside into the fresh air. “Gojo I— I don’t— like her, do I?”

“I think you do, kid.” Gojo grins earnestly, happy to get an admission out of Megumi. “Maybe even more than that.”

“W-What?” Megumi wonders aloud, a twinge of fear intertwined with his drunken speech, “Gojo… Do I— Do I love her?” Megumi asks. Like he’s asking his genuine advice as if Gojo knows Megumi’s feelings better than he does. It’s probably true. Despite his feelings being his own, he can’t connect with them. He can’t connect with himself.

“It seems that way. Either you’re in love with her or you’re falling there, that’s my guess.” Gojo tells him.

Megumi begins to shiver as the cool night air attacks him. Gojo keeps him upright and tries to pass along his body warmth to him as they wait for a taxi to pull up and collect them. Neither of them can believe how dark it is. Light morning sky turned to a black abyss and somehow neither of them have eaten or slept. Megumi has done nothing but drink since seeing you and it all feels like the same long day that you hooked up and argued about it. And now, out of nowhere, he’s found out he has feelings for you. Actual feelings. The type that people write songs about. The type that could potentially make you happy rather than terrified.

He likes you.

He might even love you.

“Fuck.”

—

You left Netflix running when you finally got the TV on. Final Space has been paused for a while since you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to press continue watching when it was prompted. You’ve been staring at your phone for hours. Your thumb hovering over Gojo’s name as you debated sending him a message.

Over and over again you scrolled through all of your contacts. A variety of people stood out but none of them that you wanted to call. You still had the numbers of people you had fallen out with and no longer talked to. There was one thing you wanted to do; and that thing was to scream. You felt desperate to let it all out, but there wasn’t a soul you could confide in.

The one person you did call, Toji, still wasn’t answering his calls or texts. It worries you that he isn’t responding, it’s so unlike him. You even contemplated calling your mother. But after last time you couldn’t think of a worse thing to do. You don’t need to give your parents any more ammunition to disparage you from your relationship and get into your head about doing what they want.

So, Gojo is all you have. But maybe you should just go to sleep and try to forget everything that has happened. Wash the day away from you and imagine yourself somewhere far away. Wherever Yuuji is, perhaps. But you can’t lock your phone screen. All you can do is stare at Gojo’s name. Your thumb venturing closer and closer to the phone icon. It’s out of your hands, now. You need to call him. You need to talk to somebody.

But as you’re about to press the button, your entire screen is filled with an incoming call. It shocks you. For some reason your phone isn’t on silent so the garish ringtone slices through your body like knives. You’re lucky your phone is somehow still in your hand and not smashed against your bedroom wall. You’re so fucking lucky. Luckier than you could have imagined being today. You press the green phone button so fast and bring the speaker to your ear.

“Yuuji?”

—

© 2025 rinhaler

—

transformation of the day

🍎 weird dream . . .ᐟᅟ

⠀⎯⎯⠀⠀caleb/mc!reader, 1.5k, somno, noncon, fingering, dry humping. ao3 ! part 2

it's not uncommon for you to burst into caleb's room without knocking. it was the same no matter where he was, you'd walk straight to his bed, already talking, as if all his attention was yours to command the second you entered his periphery, as if it was your own room. sometimes he'd be by his desk, perking up at the sound of the door being opened and turning to face you, sometimes he's already in bed reading, scooting over to make room as he continues his book, not even having to look at you. you'd snuggle in, making yourself comfortable.

"you know you got your own bed, right?" he'd tease, as if he'd have it any other way.

"yeah, but yours is waaay more comfortable" you'd feign a pout. he never pushes, and you never expect him to.

you'd talk and talk, and he'd listen happily. and sometimes, you'd fall asleep in his bed, never asking, never thinking to. it had always been like this.

even after he moved out for school, summers still gave you the chance to live together once again. you'd seamlessly slip back into the routine, as if no time had passed.

tonight was no different.

you were snuggled up against him, you had been telling him about some gossip from school, some text conversation with a friend. using his outstretched arm as a pillow as you looked up at the ceiling, gesturing at nothing, looking over at him occasionally, catching his eye every time. his eyes never strayed from you. you were used to his gaze, the feeling was constant when he was around.

your story slowed, yawns every few minutes became every few words. until finally a comfortable silence filled the room. he let's out a little laugh. rubbing your shoulder to help ease you into a nice dream.

"must've been really sleepy, huh" he mutters into your hair, petting you, you offer a sleepy groan as a response. he can't help but smile, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head as you hum happily. it's not long before your breathing slows into that familiar pattern. your chest rising and falling evenly, you were sound asleep.

"there you go," caleb coos softly, shifting to be behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle. slowly, so slowly, he moves his hand to rub your stomach. small soothing circles, testing the waters. you've never woken up so far, but he doesn't want to push his luck.

his fingers drift lower, silk soft touches along the exposed skin between your slightly shifted top and the hem of your shorts. he could do this forever, feeling you under his hands, in between his arms, against his chest. he loved having you so close like this, he doesn't know if he could go without it. he knows you feel the same, you might not know it entirely, maybe you don't think about it too much, but he sees the way you look at him, the way you blush, the way you tease. you feel it too, you just aren't ready to act on it yet, you wanna keep the charade going. and that's fine, he's a patient man.

for the most part.

his fingers grow restless, sliding under the waistband of your shorts, under your panties, trailing lower and lower, slow and steady. he hovers over your clit, your breathing remains even.

he waits a second, just to be sure.

and he softly presses down. you don't stir at all. he begins to move in easy little circles, just the right amount of pressure. he thinks he's perfected it. he got a bit too eager with you once, and you almost woke up. you like soft touches, he knows that, for now at least.

he uses his arm around your waist to pull you closer, pressing your ass flush against his growing hard on. he has to bite back a moan, letting out a deep breath instead. he wants to grind into you so bad, but this isn't about him, it's all about you. he remains still, cock twitching against the layers that separate your skin.

he knows one day you'll be together. he can wait until then, but in the meantime, he just wants to open you up a bit. get you ready for him. he thinks it's sweet even, he knows you don't have any experience. he doesn't want you to feel embarrassed or scared he won't fit. he'll be able to assure you and mean it, he'll know your body so well already, you'll have nothing to worry about.

his finger against your clit presses harder, just a touch. your thighs shift, pressing into his bulge harder. he slows, not yet stopping. waiting, checking for any tell tale signs of you waking up.

"mm..." you let out a tiny moan, still asleep. caleb can't help but let his eyes flutter closed at the sound. letting his face nuzzle deeper into your hair, peppering encouraging kisses against your head as he breathes in your scent.

"feels good?" he mutters, barely audible. "let's see..." his hand stills, moving lower, dipping between your lips towards your opening. he has to bite his lip again to hold back the low moan that almost escaped.

you're soaked.

he has a habit of giving you what you want. now is no exception, he won't make you wait.

he circles your opening, before slowly inching in. his cock twitches again, head weeping, wanting nothing more than to be buried inside you. he pushes in deeper and deeper.

"nngh⎯" you let out a soft groan, and he freezes. he's unsure if it's discomfort or pleasure. you're tense around him.

"i know, i know, it's why we're opening you up." he whispers in his most reassuring tone, hoping it'll reach you in your dreams and put you at ease. and it seems to work, you relax, sinking deeper into the bed, soft walls welcoming his finger.

"mhm, just like that..." he presses into you, his finger is as deep as it could go. he angles his wrist so the meat of his palm presses into your clit as he slips a second finger in.

"hah," you sigh sweetly. caleb takes a deep breath, trying to keep his desire in check. maybe, maybe you've done this enough times, maybe you can take a little more now. he justifies it to himself as he curls his fingers out just to push it back inside, a little harsher now, causing you to press harder against his needy cock. you tense again, but relax before he even has a chance to comfort you.

he's losing all composure now.

he repeats the motion, harder, grinding against you. and again, and again, falling into a steady rhythm.

"mmph!" the sweet sounds seem to pour out of your lips. he takes them as encouragement, moving his head lower to brush his lips against your neck. your body sways with each thrust from his fingers, pliant and so accepting of everything he's giving.

he's moving you so much he doesn't notice as you shift more against him.

you feel the pleasure bubbling within you first. it pulls you close to waking. you've had this dream before. being fondled and fucked. your eyes squeeze shut tighter, but it starts to sting, it feels real, you feel the pressure of your eyes against your skull. you twitch, and you suddenly become acutely aware of the ache in your core.

your eyes flutter, half lidded as you take in your surroundings. caleb, he's behind you, and he's ... his ⎯ you can't think straight. he's still moving. you're moving, he's moving your body along with his.

he's pressed against you, he's huffing in your ear, and his hand is in your panties.you try to keep your breathing in check, you want to pant, you feel so overwhelmed all over, you feel surrounded, filled.

right before you can fully acknowledge what is happening, you feel it, your peak is approaching, fast. it's all too much, all of it, his thrusts, his breath against you, his hard cock grinding on your ass, his fingers so, so deep. you try to stop it, whimpers tumble out, you try to speak, but it comes out as a lewd moan.

"w-wai⎯" but it's too late. it all comes crashing down, you come onto his fingers. he feels it, shoving his fingers deep and then holding them still, letting your walls milk him, fruitlessly.

"fuck, yeah, that's it," he whispers, kissing your neck. he was trembling, "mmm, yes."

as you come down you realize he's stopped moving as well, as he shifts you feel the cold air hit a fresh damp spot against your ass. he gently removes his hand for your panties, you crack your eye open as he raises it, past your face and out of sight. you hear him behind you, his lips part and he's sucking his fingers. he let's out a soft groan at your taste. you shudder.

"sooo good, you did so good." he murmurs into your hair. moving his arms to surround you again. you feel unsure, maybe, you're still dreaming. it's hard to tell, you feel so sleepy again. you lean further into him. he's so warm. it just feels right. and it's not unlike dreams you've had before. maybe, you liked it more than you're willing to admit.

you could worry about this in the morning.

ROUND FOR ROUND

hamzah celebrates with you first thing after his victory.

“and the winner is.. blue corner!”

the moment you heard those words, closely followed by cheers erupting throughout the venue, you knew what was in store for you.

hamzah did promise, after all. he made it abundantly clear that you were the first person he’d want to see if he won the match.

watching him land powerful hits, moving with precision and accuracy throughout the ring was undoubtedly making you feel some sort of way. you knew hamzah was strong and he’d most likely win, but god was it enticing to watch him fight anyways.

when the referee raised hamzah’s arm to crown him the winner, instead of looking out to the crowd - his eyes immediately met yours, an exhausted but cocky grin plastered on his face.

and — only about a half an hour later — the two of you were back in his ‘locker room.’ his nose is bruised and bloodied and he’s still slightly winded but he wants you all the same.

“shit.. wearin’ my name, screaming all loud for me out there,” he whispers in awe between kisses, slipping his hands underneath the blue fabric of your shirt printed with the words TEAM HAMZAH, his fingers tracing the curves of your body. “gonna keep this on while i fuck you.” he mutters under his breath, grabbing a fistful of the fabric.

he has you laid across the couch, his body slotted between your spread legs. he was impatient, greedy, for his reward. your pants lie in a crumpled heap on the floor, next to the tattered lace of your underwear that hamzah just had to completely rip off your body.

“you’re so pretty,” hamzah breathes out, relishing in the sight of you beneath him, wearing his name. “my fuckin’ prize.”

he meets your gaze, looking like a man starved. the only thing he needs after that fight is you.

he’s running purely off the adrenaline he has that’s left over from the boxing match, or else his body would probably give out and collapse on top of yours right now.

“fuck,” he says, his voice gruff with desire. “baby, i need to feel you right now.”

“yes,” you breathe out. “please, hamzah.”

he hums lowly against your neck as he impatiently bites and kisses at your skin, eliciting small moans from your lips. his hand reaches down between your bodies to sloppily tug down his own shorts and boxers, carelessly leaving them pooled around his knees.

“y’okay?” he asks lowly, his lips skating across the shell of your ear as you feel his length press against your inner thigh. “don’t go holdin’ back on me. m’not that weak.” he taunts.

a small breathless laugh leaves your lips, your hands finding his shoulders and loosely holding on. “who says i’m holding back?”

he pulls away, grinning down at you, expression full of sin. “good,” he replies darkly. “cause i’m not, either.”

you can hardly register his words before he’s lining himself up with your entrance and bottoming out inside you with a single movement. your breath lodges in your throat, only a small choked whine escaping.

“oh, god,” he groans, relishing in the feeling of your walls adjusting to him. “fuck — y’take it so well, baby.”

you nails sink into his shoulders, making half moon indents in his skin as he starts snapping his hips into you, his cock filling you completely and utterly.

mindless moans and chants of his name tumble from your lips. his tip bumps against your cervix with each thrust, making your body jolt with pleasure.

“hamzah,” you whine, your spine arching off the surface of the couch, his rigid chest pressing up to yours, your bodies only separated by the shirt you wore to support him.

that’s what hamzah loves to see. you, his number one fan, unconditionally encouraging him in his endeavors. it drives him crazy. he wonders how he got so lucky.

“hmm?” he hums with a slight grin. “feels good, huh?”

each slam of his hips steals your breath away. he’s so deep. your mind is fuzzy and every word you try to force out gets caught on the tip of your tongue.

“c’mon, honey. you can tell me, i know you can.” he growls, needing the affirmation. “be a good girl f’me.”

“ye — yes!” you whimper pathetically, your stomach clenching as your arousal intensifies, building tension with each smack of his skin against yours. “it’s.. it’s so good,”

“thaaat’s it,” he purrs, his breath fanning across your neck. “my girl, my perfect girl.”

hamzah’s fingers squeeze and grab at every inch of your body underneath your shirt, trying to ground himself impossibly closer to you. he touches on your tits, your hips — until his hands find your legs, and he’s suddenly straightening up to grab your calves and hook your ankles up over his shoulders.

you squeeze your eyes shut, crying out in pure ecstasy as the new position allows him to slip even deeper into you, pounding into you under a euphoric, adrenaline-and-lust-filled haze.

“fuck,” he grunts, his jaw hanging slack between each word he grits out. “fuck, i’m gonna cum already — shit, baby.”

“mmh — hamzah, i c-can’t.. you’re so.. fuck, just.. don’t stop!”

he exhales an evil, breathless laugh. “shh, baby. jus’ finish f’me, don’t get all dumb now.”

his teasing words and his cock ramming into your dripping cunt finally tip you over the edge. your body shutters as your climax hits you in white-hot waves of pleasure.

the groan that hamzah lets out is downright animalistic, his head lolling backwards. he struggles to keep his release in with the added pressure of your pussy squeezing his length. he’s completely buried inside you, letting you process through your own feelings before he loses his self-control.

“shiiiit,” he murmurs lowly, his grip on your legs tightening as they tremble with the intensity of your orgasm.

he stares down at you through hooded eyes, and the sight of you completely undone beneath him nearly makes him finish on the spot.

as you finally start to calm, he just can’t contain himself anymore. he begins to pull out, making you whine softly before the noise is cut off with a sharp gasp as he suddenly plunges right back inside.

“fuck!” you whine, your hands desperately gripping at the couch as you finally feel his cock twitch, his warm release spilling inside of you.

“oh, o-oh, yes, fuckin’ perfect..” hamzah gasps, stilling inside you as he comes down from his own high.

“baby, if beating up martin is what it takes for a reward like this.. i’m goin’ for a damn knockout next time.”

a/n: i started this when the fight first happened and i just now finished it oops. sorry for not being consistent <\3

xoxo giulia

(x)

The first thing Bakugo wants after a life or death fight with a villain is to fuck you.

Bakugo denies all medical attention, ignores his colleagues pleas to calm down as he barrels off the battlefield in a blind fury. He storms through the front door, still covered in freshly spilled blood and practically growling like a wounded animal while his eyes search for you in your shared home.

You rush downstairs at the sound, your eyes widening in shock when you approach him. “Katsuki? What the h—”

“Shut the fuck up.”

His lips are on yours in an instant, shoving you up against the wall in a desperate attempt to get closer to you. Dirtied gloves paw at your clothes, the salty metallic taste of blood and sweat coating your tongue from his split lip as he shoves his tongue in your mouth. It’s as if Bakugo’s body is moving on its own, his mind trapped in a haze of unknown need.

“Need you,” he groans while sucking your bottom lip into his mouth, one of his hands threading into your hair and holding the back of your head. “Shut up and fuck me.”

“Kats—”

You try to pull back, to ask him what’s going on, but he keeps cutting you off with harsher kisses and bites to your neck. Bakugo pants against your pulse point, licking the skin as his voice becomes uncharacteristically soft. “Please…”

That’s when you notice the tremble in his touch, how the hand on your waist is squeezing tight enough to leave a bruise. It clicks — this isn’t just about sex and he won’t say it, can’t say it. He needs you. Needs you to distract him, hold him and get the adrenaline out of his body, to not let the fear of almost losing you drown him.

One of your hands tangles in his hair as you kiss down his neck, your teeth sinking into the spot that makes his knees buckle. Bakugo audibly moans, a low and guttural sound that only you know how to pull out of him. You lead him to the couch in the living room, ripping off his hero suit piece by piece to give him exactly what he wants.

“Thank you” are the only two words that roll off his tongue repeatedly like a prayer, spliced between voracious moans as you ride him harder than ever before. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”