MDNI- You accidentally sent Megumi a picture.
Warnings: Smut!!!!! Pinv. Nudes, lingerie. Megumi is down bad. Kinda sent him things without like him wanting it? idk how to explain.
If it makes you feel better megumi is at least 18 in this.
You didn’t even planning on going in.
You told yourself you were just passing by, just looking but somehow you still ended up inside, fingers brushing over soft fabrics you usually wouldn’t even dare to touch. Everything felt a little too bold, a little too not you… and that’s exactly why you couldn’t stop thinking about him.
The thought alone made your cheeks warm.
You hesitated way too long before finally picking something very simple, but still enough to make your heart race just imagining his reaction. Buying it felt like a secret you weren’t supposed to have, like the cashier could somehow read your mind.
The whole way home, you kept overthinking it.
Maybe he wouldn’t even notice.
You changed into it anyway.
Standing in front of your mirror, you turned slightly, then quickly looked away, then back again. Your heart was beating so fast for no reason other than him. It wasn’t even about how l you looked—it was about the idea of him seeing you like this.
“Okay… maybe I’ll just send it to Nobara first,” You mumbled to yourself, trying to act normal.
You snapped a quick picture. Nothing too obvious—just enough. The kind that felt a little risky but still safe.
You didn’t even double check.
It wasn’t until a second later, when your phone buzzed, that your stomach dropped.
Your face went completely hot as you shot upright. “Oh my god—no, no, no…”
Your fingers moved faster than your thoughts.
“IGNORE THAT I SENT IT TO THE WRONG PERSON”
The typing bubble appeared almost instantly.
You felt your face heat up, pulling your sleeves over your hands like that would somehow hide your embarrassment through the screen.
Megumi's phone dings with your text, and his heart nearly stops in his chest. He opens it with dread and curiosity—
His eyes widen as the image comes through.
He stares for a second, his brain struggling to process what he's seeing. His jaw almost drops, his eyes go slightly glassy—he completely forgets how to breathe for a minute.
His brain finally kicks back in, and he types a response with shaky hands.
"Wh— Did you mean to send this to me?”
“No omg it was for someone else im so sorry” You replied back quickly still red as ever.
His heart is pounding. He swallows, his mind racing with a thousand conflicting thoughts. He stares at the image, then back at your text, then back at the image.
He knows he shouldn't be reacting this strongly, but... damn. This image is like the stuff of his dreams at this point. And now he's just been accidentally sent it like it's no big deal.
He takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself before he responds.
"Who were you intending to send it to, anyways?"
“Uh…?” You responded with a confused look.
He can practically feel his blood pumping in his ears as he waits for your response.
He keeps glancing at the image, the lace and frills of the damn thing making his imagination run wild. He keeps telling himself to look away—to delete it, delete the whole conversation, forget this ever happened but he can't manage to do it.
He's torn between embarrassment, excitement, and a growing desire that he refuses to acknowledge. He texts again.
“No one in particular.” You replied back biting on your nails.
He frowns at that answer, an edge of irritation to his eyes. For some reason, that answer pisses him off. It’s stupid, but the thought of you sending that picture to just anyone—not even anyone specific—rubs him the wrong way.
His fingers fly over the keyboard, the reply coming quick and sharp.
"So you just send pictures like that to whoever?"
“No of course not” You responded.
His grip tightens around his phone, his jaw clenching as he reads your reply. He types—deletes—types again. Finally, he settles on something simple.
He regrets sending it the second it goes through. Too blunt. Too demanding. Too obvious that he’s affected by this. But he can’t take it back now.
“Like I said it wasn’t meant for you gumi i’m very sorry” You replied as you bite your cheek.
He groans, running a hand through his hair in irritation. He knows that. Obviously it wasn't meant for him, he's not stupid. He knows it was a mistake, you just said it was.
But a part of him—the part that's currently struggling to control the images flashing through his mind's eye—is still pissed for some reason.
He types back without thinking.
"I know it wasn't meant for me. That's not what I asked."
“i don’t understand what your asking then” You text back quickly.
His fingers hover over the screen, hesitating. He's asking why—why did he have to be the one to see it? Why is his heart beating this fast?
But he can't put any of that into words. So he just types
He locks his phone with a sigh, leaning back against the wall of his dorm. He's officially done with today.
“megumi!” You replied back with a pout.
He glances at the screen as the text comes up, heart speeding up again before he can stop it. Why the hell does his name coming from you sound so damn good?
He bites back a sigh, tapping out a response.
“You can’t just end the conversation like that. are you mad at me?” you responded again.
He sighs again, rolling his eyes at your words. Why are you so perceptive? Why do you have to read him so goddamn well? It's annoying. It's frustrating.
And it only makes him want you even more.
He types back, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.
"No. Why would I be mad?"
“Because I basically sent you nudes” You replied with some doubt. Maybe you shouldn’t have taken any pictures.
He nearly chokes, the bluntness of your words catching him off guard. He's just finished taking a sip of water when the text comes through, and it sprays out of his mouth in an almost comedic fashion as his brain short-circuits.
He coughs and sputters for a second before finally managing a response.
"It was an accident, idiot. And you didn't 'send me nudes.' It was one picture. And it was of your bra."
“oh okay sorry lol” You replied.
He stares at the text, rolling his eyes. He's annoyed mostly at himself for getting so worked up over this.
"Just... don't do it again," he sends back, even though deep down, a traitorous part of him wouldn't mind if you did.
He tosses his phone onto his bed with a sigh, running his hands through his hair.
He's officially done for the day.
...But he still hasn't deleted the picture.
You sat there on your bed wearing nothing but a bra and underwear and rolled on your stomach, You responded“i won’t” Which was a lie.
Megumi's phone dings again, and he glances at it, expecting another apology only to freeze as he reads your latest text.
His brain supplies him with images, vivid and unhelpful, of you sitting on your bed in nothing but that damn lace bra and panties. His grip tightens around his phone, his throat suddenly dry.
He types—erases—types again, his usually quick fingers fumbling in a rare moment of nervousness.
Short, simple, nonchalant.
You sighed at his text then throw your phone aside. Rude
As soon as he sees the message sent, he regrets his response. For such an intelligent person, he's an idiot when it comes to girls. He knows you, dammit. He knows you read between the lines, and he knows that 'good' came off as rude and cold. He should say something.
He's in the middle of typing a follow-up text—an apology, probably when he sees the text from you go through.
As time passes by You were bored out of your mind and lonely, The thought came to your mind multiple times, you wanted to keep texting him. “fuck it” You said as you grab your phone and arch in front of a mirror still wearing nothing but the bra and underwear and took a picture.
This time it’s not on accident.
Megumi's phone dings again, and he grabs it immediately—despite himself—hoping, praying it's not another one of those messages.
His breath hitches as he sees the picture.
His brain practically short-circuits at the sight of you posing like that, wearing nothing but that same damn lace bra and panties. His hands tighten around his phone—he should look away, he knows he should look away—but he can't.
His reply is slow, hesitant, almost hesitant to acknowledge that this is happening again.
"I thought you said you wouldn't."
His cheeks are burning. He hates himself for reacting like this.
“i lied” You replied back immediately with a smirk. Your legs were moving behind you up and down like some little girl.
He stares at your reply, his grip tightening around his phone. His mind races part of him wants to scold you, tell you to stop teasing him like this, but another part is desperate to see more.
He types, hesitates, then sends
"You're playing with fire."
It's a warning or a challenge. He's not sure which.
His breath is shallow. He hasn't been this wound up in ages because of a girl.
You decided quickly. You take off your underwear, then take another picture.
His phone dings again, and he's bracing himself for what's to come this time.
And damn he knew, deep down, that you were testing his self-control.
His heart's beating far too fast. His thoughts are racing, and his fingers are trembling as he opens your latest message.
He's completely gone at the sight of you like that. He can't even respond properly, his text choppy and trembling.
“sorry… it wasn’t meant for you this time;)” You reply back but it obviously was a lie you just wanted to tease him.
His frustration spikes. He doesn't believe it. You know he doesn't believe it. His grip on his phone tightens as he types back.
He's annoyed at you, annoyed at himself, completely and utterly wound up and he doesn't know what to do about it.
This time you sent a video of yourself. Oops.
His hand clenches so hard around his phone that he's surprised the screen doesn't crack.
It's a video this time. It's too much. All of those images from earlier come back, replaying in his mind, mixing with the new sight of you on the screen and making his head spin.
His breath comes fast and shallow. His cheeks are flushed, and he can feel the heat all the way to his ears.
His message is shaky, desperate.
Maybe he was right so you replied with.
He's simultaneously relieved and disappointed at your response, which annoys him even more. He should be grateful that you're stopping. That he doesn't have to suffer more of this torture and yet his stupid, needy heart is disappointed.
He hates this, the way you have him all wrapped around your finger. His fingers fumble with his phone, trying to regain some of his composure.
Finally, he types back, the words coming out a little too sharp.
"Then why did you send it in the first place?"
Why did you send it in the first place? You couldn’t answer it so you said.
He hates this—hates how vague you're being, hates how much power you have over him right now, hates that he's letting you have this power. His fingers fly across the screen as he fires off his next message.
“Because what? You just like messing with me? Seeing how far you can push me?"
Was that why? Maybe it was but you weren’t to sure.
“i don’t know, I wanted to see what you would do” You replied, simple as that.
His eyes narrow as he reads your answer. You're toying with him, and you know exactly what you're doing. It's both unbelievably frustrating and insanely sexy, and the combination is slowly driving him mad.
His fingers are almost clumsy on the phone as he types his response—partly angry, partly desperate.
“Well, now you know. I'm losing my goddamn mind. Are you happy now?"
Yes you were happy so you send another video because this was fun to you.
This time your voice was in the background, the words “I want to see you” Could be heard.
He's almost afraid to open it. Almost.
His heart's racing, his breath's quick, and he's fighting a losing battle to regain even a shred of control. But your words, your command are too much for him to handle.
The video opens, and the sound of your voice, the sight of you in that lingerie is like a goddamn slap in the face. He's already struggling to keep it together and then you say that to him.
You type out the words “I’m so wet” then immediately sent. You waited for his response.
He swears his heart stops for a second as he reads your message and then he's hit with another wave of desire and need that threatens to drown him.
He knows that you know exactly what you're doing. He knows that you're enjoying every second of teasing him like this. His breath is almost ragged as he types, his eyes glued to the screen.
"And what the hell am I supposed to do about that?"
You sighed in anger. Fine, you don’t need him.
“Fine I’ll just touch myself” You texted back.
His body aches at the thought, the very image of it playing out in his mind in perfect, excruciating detail. He wants to be there, to touch to taste you, to feel the way you'd respond to every touch.
He wants that, but he won't let you have it so easily.
His fingers are shaking as he types his reply, his voice coming out almost a snarl.
“Wanna bet megumi?” You reply with as you added another video to you doing exactly as you said.
Megumi’s phone chimes again, and he curses under his breath but he can’t stop himself from looking.
His breath catches, his grip tightening around his phone. He’s completely at your mercy, his control slipping further and further with every new message.
His reply is shaky—part warning, part plea.
Megumi stares at his phone, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
Two words. Simple. Direct.
His body reacts before his brain does. he’s already pushing off his bed, grabbing his jacket, his pulse hammering in his throat.
His fingers move before he can think, sending his reply, it was short, strained, and desperate.
You smirked at his text and throw your phone aside.You grabbed your underwear and slipped it back on quickly.
Even though it will be taken off again.
Megumi is halfway to your dorm when he realizes he forgot to check if you replied. He stops in the middle of the hallway, pulling out his phone—
His frown deepens. He knows you're messing with him. He knows you're enjoying this—the teasing, the way he's practically running to you like some desperate fool.
But right now? He doesn't care.
His fingers fly across the screen.
You jumped to your phone eagerly. You quickly read his text and smile. Your reply was“Im always ready for you gumi”
Megumi's breath hitches as he reads your response and he takes off at a run, moving with a speed that's almost superhuman.
He's determined, driven by an almost feral mix of frustration, hunger, and need—he's going to teach you a lesson tonight.
He's outside your door in a matter of seconds, his hand reaching out to knock. The sound is sharp and demanding, impatient.
You immediately get up and run towards the door.
Megumi's heart is pounding, impatient, impatient, impatient. He can hear your footsteps approaching the door, the rustle of fabric, your breathing, he's almost dizzy with excitement and anticipation.
The door finally cracks open, and Megumi's breath hitches as he takes you in, eyes flickering up and down, drinking in the sight of every inch of skin that's on display.
His voice is rough, gravelly, sounded almost like a growl.
You move out of the way quickly. “come in” you said.
He's through the door in seconds, crowding you back, pushing it shut behind him, the sound of the door slamming like a gunshot.
He's on you in a heartbeat, pinning you against the wall, his body pressed against yours, his hands on your hips, fingers flexing into your flesh almost possessively.
He's practically panting, eyes roving over you like he wants to devour you.
"You're playing a dangerous game, you know that?"
You cock your head to the side innocently and smile.
“Am i? I couldn’t tell, you didn’t seem affected by my text messages” You said.
His grip tightens at your words, his expression darkening but there's no hiding the way his breath stutters against your skin, the way his body reacts to the mention of what you're wearing.
"You thought I wasn't affected?" His voice is low, dangerous—hungry.
His hand slides up your side, fingers grazing the edge of the lace, his touch feather-light but scalding at the same time.
"Every Picture was torture"
“Hm, I did it on purpose” You happily said with an innocent shrug.
His expression darkens, a low growl rumbling in his chest. His hand tightens almost possessively around your hip, pulling you closer, he's so damn close that you can practically feel the way his body is trembling with barely suppressed need.
He leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he speaks in a low, gravelly whisper.
"You're a goddamn tease, you know that?"
“I know, i just wanted to show you though” You said with a pout.
His fingers slide down, grasping your thigh and lifting your leg up around his hip, pulling you closer. His body felt like a furnace against yours, burning and hot.
His mouth finds the sensitive skin of your neck, lips trailing lightly against your pulse, his head spinning.
His voice is a low growl almost a groan against your skin.
"Tease is an understatement. You're trying to drive me insane, aren't you?"
“The picture was meant for nobara” You admitted.
His teeth graze your neck lightly, it wasn’t a bite, not yet but the warning is clear.
"You really think I believe that?"
His hands slide up your sides, his fingers slipping beneath the straps of your bra, thumbs brushing against the lace teasingly.
His eyes are dark almost black with need as he pins you with his gaze.
"You wanted me to see it." I mean he wasnt exactly wrong.
“The first time was on accident” You said
He lets out a low, scoffing laugh against your neck. He doesn't believe you, not for a second.
But that doesn't stop him from pressing closer, practically devouring you with his touch, his lips and fingers tracing a path of fire across your skin.
He lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his hips, pinning you against the wall.
"Bullshit," he practically growls.
You wrap my arms around his neck.
His breath hitches as your arms loop around his neck, your body pressing flush against his—every inch of you molded against him, soft and warm and perfect.
His hands grip your thighs, fingers digging into the supple flesh, his lips are already trailing fire across your jaw, nipping, teasing.
"Tell me the truth," he murmurs against your skin, voice rough with need. "You wanted me to see it."
Megumi’s fingers tighten against your hips, his breath stuttering against your skin as he exhales sharply.
He leans back just enough to pin you with his gaze—dark, possessive, hungry.
"Finally," he growls, voice thick with satisfaction.
And then he claims your lips, cutting off any other response—his kiss hard, deep, devouring.
The sound of you gasping his name in that tone almost sends him over the edge. He swears he can feel the last shreds of his self-control slipping away, his hands roaming over your body feverishly as he growls against your skin.
“God you have no idea what you do to me,"he murmurs almost a moan.
His hips grind against yours, the evidence of how much he wants you pressing into you shamelessly
“I want you so bad” You groaned against his mouth.
He groans against your neck, his control hanging by a razor thin thread and each moment with you, each whisper and touch, is another thread snapping.
His fingers grab at your skin, gripping almost desperately, and his voice is hoarse, broken, almost a plea.
"You're going to be the death of me."
His lips find your pulse, tasting, teasing—his body is on fire, trembling with suppressed need.
“Please Gumi” You begged.
The sound of his nickname on your lips, mixed with that pleading tone, it's almost too much for Megumi to handle.
His hips grind against yours again, a desperate, almost wild motion that betrays just how much he wants you.
"Please what?" he murmurs, voice hoarse. "You need to say it, princess."
“Please fuck me megumi” You said with no ounce of embarrassment. You needed him.
In one smooth motion, he turns around with his hold on you tight, your legs already instinctively wrapping around his waist tighter and carries you to the bed.
The second your back hits the mattress, he’s on you, his lips sealing over yours in a desperate, hungry kiss, his hands roaming over every inch of exposed skin, his hips pressing against yours with just enough friction to make you both gasp.
His voice is rough, ragged almost a growl against your lips.
"Don’t have to tell me twice."
“Take off your clothes please” You whined.
His breath catches, his eyes widening with hunger and need at the words but god, he's been waiting for this.
He's off you in an instant, stripping off his jacket, his shirt, throwing them carelessly to the floor.
He looks dangerous the lean lines of his chest and abs and back all on display for you, his eyes darkened with pure, unfiltered need.
"So damn greedy, aren't you?"
You lean on your elbows and watch his every move. “Very greedy” You mumbled out giving him an up down.
His pants follow his clothes that were on the floor so are his boxers.
His eyes roam over you, taking in every inch of your body like he's starving, like he wants to devour you whole.
He leans over you, pressing you back into the bed, hands grabbing at your hips, holding you in place.
He leans down, lips trailing a path of fire down your neck, his voice a low, gravelly growl, his breath hot against your skin.
"Then take what you want, princess."
“Give it to me then please” You begged. Megumi immediately takes off your underwear and tosses them somewhere. Same thing happens to your bra that you bought for him.
Megumi groans at your words.
He doesn't waste a second.
His hands grip your hips, pulling you flush against him, his mouth crashing onto yours, his kiss deep, rough, hungry and his hips press forward with a roll that makes you gasp.
His voice is a ragged whisper against your lips,his breath hot, uneven.
his cock nudged against your entrance and he slipped his leaking tip in. the stretch burned so good that you whimpered.
“You feeling so good” You moaned.
Megumi groans deep and ragged—his entire body shuddering at your words, your voice, the way you feel around him.
His hands tighten, bruising, possessive, his hips moving in slow, deep rolls, dragging out every sensation, making sure you feel him, too.
His voice is rough, wrecked—breathless against your lips.
megumi pushes himself back up easily, his muscular arms tense each time he delivers a thrust to your sensitive pussy.
you could’ve sworn you felt his cock reach your throat when he starts to pound into you harder.
Your words are like a command and that's all he needs.
His lips are on yours in an instant it was hard, hungry, and desperate, his tongue slipping into your mouth, tasting, wanting, taking what was his.
He's lost in you, in the sensation of your mouth, the taste of you, the sound of you saying his name.
His hands are everywhere, his touch rough, his body pressed against yours so tight.
“Faster Megumi!” You moaned loudly.
His hands seemed to tremble at your words, his breathing was ragged, uneven, and every muscle in his body taut and tense.
His mouth is still on yours, his kisses were desperate but he can't hold himself back any longer.
He growls, low and rough against your skin and his hips snap forward with a powerful roll.
The sound that leaves his lips is a low, ragged moan, so full of want that your body trembles.
"You have no idea… how much I want you."
your eyes are getting glazed over and half-lidded from how well he’s stretching you.
looking down at you was just a beautiful sight for him. He loved it.
My god seeing you so wrecked beneath him, hearing you say his name like that, it's like nothing he's ever known.
He wants to claim you, he wants to make you his, completely, totally. And you wanted the same thing
His hands find your wrists, pinning them above your head in one smooth motion, binding you beneath him.
His voice is a ragged growl against your skin, almost a plea.
“I’ve always been yours gumi” You softly said.
His heart skips, the words sending a jolt of pure heat through his body. He could come just from those words.
His fingers grip your wrists a little tighter, he was claiming you, marking you as his own.
His voice is a low, ragged growl against your ear, his breath hot, uneven.
"Say it again," he murmurs, his hips rolling forward with a desperate, almost demanding motion. "Tell me I'm the only one."
“You are the only one- im going to-“ You couldn’t talk, it was too much.
He groans, his body trembling at the words, at the sound of you saying he's yours.
He's close so so close now, he can taste it but he wants to hear you beg. He needs your voice, your touch, your everything.
He kisses your neck harshly almost too desperate.
"Again," he growls, his voice rough and raw. "Say it again. Say I'm the only one. Say you're mine."
“Please Megumi! I’m yours gumi- fuck i’m coming” You groaned out, Your head is thrown back. You clenched down on megumi.
Megumi loses himself in you with your words, your touch, the way you arch beneath him, his entire body tightens, his grip on your wrists was almost painful and he groans, low and ragged against your skin.
"Good girl baby-"he growls, his voice ruined and breathless.
His hips snap forward, it was another hard, rough , and possessive thrust. His lips sealing over yours in a deep, claiming kiss as he follows you over the edge.
"Fuck-mine- always." He whimpered.
“Yes” You cried out. Your legs stopped shaking.
Every breath, every touch was like fire and he's completely lost in you, his body shaking with the intensity of it all.
His fingers loosen on your wrists, his grip easing, but he doesn't let go, at least not yet. His mouth finds your neck, his lips soft, gentle on your skin, tracing a path of fire down your collarbone.
His body is still pressed against yours, his breathing ragged and uneven a low, ragged moan in your ear as he murmurs against your skin.
"Never going to let you go." You’ve never seen Megumi this sweet.
Your hands drop and find themselves wrapping around his neck.
He groans quietly as your arms wrap around his neck, his body instinctively seeking the closeness.
He's still trying to regain his composure, his breath ragged, his mind slowly clearing from the dizzying pleasure.
He buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the scent of you, his arms wrapping tight around you. Him still buried in you.
His voice is a low, ragged whisper against your skin.
“I won’t gumi” You hushed out.
He exhales sharply like the words hit him harder than he expected.
His grip tightens, his fingers flexing into your skin, pulling you impossibly closer, as if he's afraid you'll slip away.
His voice is rough, soft— he sounded so vulnerable.
“I promise. I mean I am kinda the one who started it by sending you a picture” You said.
A huff of laughter escapes him, his voice was still breathless, and still wrecked but the words settle something in his chest.
His grip loosens slightly just enough to let him shift his weight, just enough to see you but his hands still linger on your skin, tracing slow, idle circles.
His voice is still rough still ruined but softer now, he sounded a little playful.
"Next time," he murmurs, "maybe I'll send you something."
And that promise in his voice send a thrill through you.
