SECOND, SERVITUDE

ONE LAST TIME, R. SUNA

sum. two months into your relationship with your current boyfriend, your ex-fwb finally sends you a voicenote to let you know exactly how he feels about it.

feat. rintarou suna

cw. ex-fwb!suna, cheating, mutual masturbation (kinda lol), jealousy, dirty talk, anal mention, pillow humping, possessiveness, degradation

wc. 1.2k

When you posted your first official pictures of you and your new boyfriend, you had expected Suna to react…negatively. You basically braced for impact the moment you hit post, but all you got from him was an Instagram notification and two texts.

sunarin liked your post.

rin ;)

lmk if you want me to delete our pics.  and hmu when you two break up :p

You never bothered replying, initially not sure how to reply, and then forgetting about the texts entirely. The two of you barely have any contact for a few weeks after that, but he's obviously keeping up with your socials; liking every post and viewing every story. It doesn't bother you, but it's weird going cold turkey on your relationship like that. You had expected him to reach out for some sort of closure. You wanted him to. 

Halloween swings by in no time, and (much to you boyfriend’s dismay) you dress up as a sexy nurse. You don’t remember much of the night, but you do know that you posted a picture of you and your friends all dressed up on your story before getting blackout drunk. 

Your phone dies early on in the night. Your friends take good care of you up until it’s time to bring you back home, and you don’t wake up until the afternoon. You don’t check your phone until a couple hours after that—long after it's been turned on and charged to 100%. 

When you finally check it, two particular notifications catch your attention. 

sunarin liked your story. 

rin ;)

Voice Message

The voice message is 12 minutes long. 

You exit your texts immediately, opting to distract yourself by tending to your other notifications. It doesn’t help much. Your mind races, wondering what he was talking about for so long and if it was really so important that he reached out after almost four months of near-silence. 

You toss your phone onto your bed, shaking your head. You try to ignore it, cleaning the bathroom and folding the laundry and vacuuming the living room all in an effort to forget about the lengthy recording sitting in your phone. 

But it doesn’t take long for the curiosity gnawing at you to win. 

You practically run back to your bedroom, grabbing your phone and sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed. Your fingers move quickly across the screen, hitting play without hesitation. 

The first 8 seconds are nearly silent, and you start to wonder if it’s possible that he sent such a long message by mistake.

But then you hear a heavy sigh.

“I like your costume.” His tone is hushed, like he’s telling you a secret. “You look hot.”

There’s another moment of silence, like he’s giving you a chance to change your mind and stop listening. 

But then Suna moans and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. 

“You never answered my text, y’know. When I asked if you wanted me to delete our pictures. So, uh, I kept ‘em.”

Oh. 

Oh fuck.

“I’m looking at one right now. It’s from last Halloween. When you-“ His breath hitches. “When you went as a Playboy Bunny.”

You remember. Suna dressed as Hugh Hefner and the two of you went to a party together. Then he took you back to his apartment and fucked you while you were still wearing the bunny ears and bowtie. 

You’re pretty positive you’re not wearing the bodysuit in the picture he’s looking at. 

“I don’t know how much of this night you actually remember, but I can describe the picture for you.”

You tense, anticipation sending goosebumps up your arms. 

“You’re kneeling on the ground, looking up at the camera, and you’ve still got those bunny ears on your head.”

This voice message is going in the last direction you thought it would.  Is he—?

“You’ve got cum all over your face, baby.” He laughs to himself before continuing. “And you’re sticking your tongue out like a fucking whore.”

Suna takes a ragged breath, a sound you're all too familiar with. It confirms your suspicions—he’s definitely jerking off. 

“That was a good night. We had a lot of good nights.” He sounds miffed all of a sudden. “I seriously doubt the boyfriend is fucking you as good as I did.”

You suppress a shiver. A pang of guilt heats your chest at the mention of your boyfriend. You should stop listening. Delete the message. Tell him to delete the pictures and then probably block him. 

Or you could let the message keep playing. 

Suna inhales sharply, followed by a shaky moan. You swear you can hear the sound of his fist stroking his dick. 

“I hope you’re not letting him put it in your ass like you let me. That’s our thing, okay?”

Under different circumstances you would have laughed. 

“Fuck,” he hisses. “And I hope you’re not letting him spit in your fucking mouth. Or–shit–doing that thing where you’d suck me off with your head hanging upside down off the bed.” He falters at the end of the sentence, groaning into the phone.

“I’m not gonna–” he interrupts himself, sighing deeply. “I’m not gonna pretend I’ve been happy for you. I miss you.”

You feel hot all over, a heady combination of annoyance and arousal and embarrassment. There’s a dull throbbing between your legs and in the back of your mind you wonder if this is what Suna wanted when he sent the message. 

“Just–just let me fuck you one more time. Okay princess? I’ll make it sooo good for you,” he whines. You can hear his hand picking up speed.

“It’s still early. Two months is nothing, it won’t even count as cheating.” You can hear the smirk in his voice. “God, just one last time. Please?”

Without thinking, you grab a pillow and position yourself over it in a straddle. You won’t let him fuck you, but that doesn’t mean he can’t make you come one last time.

“I promise I’ll do that thing you like with my tongue. And you can pick all the positions if you want to.” There’s a tremble in his voice. “Or just lay there. I’ll do all the work.”

You grind into the pillow beneath you, picturing the expression you know he’d be wearing if he were in front of you–batting those dark eyelashes with raised eyebrows, just barely able to control the smug curve of his lips.

Heat pools in your gut and a whimper falls from your lips. Suna keeps talking.

“I know you miss me. You have to. You’re probably touching yourself to this right now.” 

You gasp softly and rock your hips faster.

“Such a fucking slut.” You hear the telltale quiver in his voice that tells you he’s getting close. “My fucking slut.”

You moan, his words giving you flashbacks.

“Oh fuck. Fuck, I’m coming,” he rasps, before letting off a series of moans and whimpers that almost make you concede. You grind harder into the pillow beneath you, imagining Suna in his room, chest heaving, talking into the phone and making himself come to pictures of you. 

That does it. A tsunami of pleasure washes over you, forcing your body to tense before you go limp, collapsing onto your bed with a shudder.

You and Suna breathe in tandem, both of you catching your breath. 

You hear another laugh through the phone. “Damn, that was a lot.” There’s the sound of sheets rustling. “Kinda made a mess, princess.”

He’s silent for another few beats before clearing his throat. “Text me, okay?” he says quietly. “Please.”

The voice message ends.

circles — rintarou suna.

SYNOPSIS

you've liked your twin brothers' best friend for as long as you can remember — it's unreciprocated, though. one day, you stumble onto an anonymous chat website for people who are experiencing one-sided love or attraction.

rintarou suna, chronically online, chronically bored, and chronically in love with y/n miya, finds the exact same chat site while doomscrolling twitter.

[ . . . one new friend request . . . ! ]

CONTENTS // WARNINGS // INFO

fem!reader, miya!reader, kys/kms jokes, possible ooc, late updates, crack humour, blended smau, weird groups but they're MY favourites ok MINE

miya family (+suna ig.) || y/n poopies || suna fanclub || extras

01. unrequitedlovers.org

02. the much awaited cat adoption arc

03. all hypotheticals

04.

authors note(s) !!

posting this early !! wink wink i still have some details to fix so the first chapter will be out a bit later </3 (this is the loml we're working with here so it has to be perfect..)

also someone get the y/n poopies reference please (poopynation cmon)

it's called circles bc. uh. they're stupid and keep going around in circles

taglist is open !

comment or send an ask to be tagged <33

likes n rbs r appreciated <3 thank you !

© hyenagoated 2024 all rights reserved :3

“The hands that cradled your face and tilted it upward to kiss your forehead are soaked in unimaginable amounts of blood.”

“But they cradled me, yes?”

Sylus, Caleb, Xavier, Eren, Geto, Gojo?, Levi, Armin, Hawks, Dabi

the sadness we shared is my clarity ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ↪ fushiguro megumi x reader

summary: it's spring when fushiguro megumi finds you. it's summer when he realizes he loves you. but as the days shorten, and time runs out, megumi realizes you're slipping away.

tw: angst, as per usual. mentions of gore, and sexual tension but nothing explicit or nsfw. you and megumi are both idiots. half of this was churned out in a day so please give the author grace. not proofread. arrangedmarriage!au and friends to enemies to lovers. megumi is Mean. mutual pining, so much that i want to throw up. mmm yummy clan politics

notes: banner by the lovely @/cafekitsune! title taken from txt's deja vu. had this fic rotting in my head and in my drive. dedicated to riko, for being one of the first mooties i ever had. love you @riaki !!

also i'm sorry everyone for vanishing off the face of the earth pls accept this fic as an apology :'))

part one/??

It’s summer, and the air in Kawasaki is miserably hot and oppressive. Tacky skin clings to thick cloth, and Megumi grimaces at the feeling. Gojo had finally decided to send all the first years together on a mission to deal with a group of Grade 3 spirits, deeming his pupils “worthy to finally make their debut!” To celebrate, Nobara had corralled everyone to a small cafe, located near the train station. “Cmon, this place has air conditioning, and Ijichi won’t be here for at least another hour,” she insists, fingers wrapped around the curve of your wrist. Begrudgingly, Megumi follows along, heavy with the knowledge that where you go, he'll follow.

He can’t help but sneak glances over, as you and Nobara fawn over the icy desserts and drinks the cafe has to offer. The soft swoop of your neck is revealed as you lean in closer to peer at the deserts hidden behind the glass. A bead of sweat trickles down into the hollow of your collarbone, and Megumi swallows hard, forcing himself to look away. The flush on his cheeks is from the summer heat, he tells himself. He can’t quite bring himself to believe it. 

“Fushiguro!” you call out, and he forces himself to look at you. “What is it?” 

“Aren’t you going to get a drink?”

Megumi hesitates, before grumbling an affirmative. As the other three move to secure a table, he turns to face the cashier. She seems younger than him by a few years, makeup done even in the hot weather with mascaraed eyelashes batting at him innocently. She misses the proffered bills, running her hand along his, before apologizing a bit breathily. “It’s fine,” Megumi sighs. His thoughts wander as the cashier chatters away mindlessly. You were favoring your right side. Were you injured? Had one of the curses somehow reached you before he could stop them? Your technique had seemed to wane towards the end of the fight. Were you overexerted? Did he have to speak to Gojo about how hard he’d been training you? 

He pulls himself from his thoughts just in time to notice the cashier leaning over the counter, watching him curiously. “Would you like a receipt, sir?” 

“No,” is his curt reply, shoving all of his traitorous thoughts of you deep down inside of himself. The cashier pouts. “If you fill out a survey, you can get five dollars off on your purchase!” 

Megumi can feel himself grimacing. Nobara would kick his ass if he didn’t at least take it and offer it to her. “Fine then.” As he turns back to the table, he scowls at the too-bright smile on Yuuji’s face. “What’s that look for?” 

“Fushiguro, she was totally hitting on you!” 

He swats away the eager high five. “Did the curses fuck with your brain or something?” 

“No, seriously, look at the receipt she gave you!” 

Megumi can feel the heat of your gaze as he unravels the receipt. Under the printed text of “FIVE DOLLARS OFF AFTER SURVEY COMPLETION!” was a line of neatly printed numbers. Scowling, he shoves the offending piece of paper in your direction. “Here. Take it.” 

“I don’t want your leftovers,” you shoot back, eyes blazing, and his traitorous heart wrenches. “It’s not for the number, idiot. Weren’t you and Kugisaki just complaining about spending that much money on drinks? Take the survey and stop whining.” 

He lets himself fall back in the familiar rhythm of bickering with Nobara as she swats at him. He’ll do anything to avoid the way your offended gaze turns thoughtful, how you seem to study his face as he forces himself to continue the lie he’s let himself live. You cannot be his, Megumi thinks desperately, even after the four of you depart the cafe, and after you toss the crumpled up wad of paper into the trash can. Even as you fall asleep in the backseat of the car, head perched onto his shoulder, he fights down the growing panic and nausea. He would rather break his own heart in the process than let you suffer from his affections. 

Cursed, he thinks. There’s a reason his mother passed, his father killed, and his sister stolen away. He’s as cursed as the shadows that seep from his domain with their tendrils that wrap and curl over every inch of light. Megumi has already accepted that the feelings that grow by the day can never be revealed. You, with your sunshine laugh, whose tender hands would always reach for him after a mission. Fushiguro, you’d say, kindly. You’re hurt again. Let me grab the first aid kit. You, with your hands that are soft and gentle, as much as Megumi’s hands are calloused and stained. 

I love you, he finally admits, as he carries you from the car back to your room. Yuuji had an ankle injury, and Nobara couldn’t handle hauling your weight up the stairs leading back to Jujutsu Tech. At least, that’s what he tells himself, as he shifts your weight in his arms, feeling the way you subconsciously pressed yourself closer to him. I love you. Your eyelashes flutter in your sleep, brow crinkling ever so slightly. Gently, Megumi smoothes it over with his thumb. I love you. 

Fushiguro Megumi was by no means a religious man. He’d known that there was no god in the battlefields of a sorcerer, no mercy in the torturous death that only curses could offer. And yet, as he lowers you down to the comfort of your mattress, he finds himself praying. I’ll do anything, he thinks, as he watches you in the depths of your slumber. I’ll give up my body, my soul, my life. Just please let her live. Please let her be happy. 

Please give her someone that could take better care of her than I ever could. 

Fushiguro Megumi found you in the first rainfall of spring. 

You hadn't noticed him, quietly watching the droplets fall on the sakura trees planted near the perimeter of Jujutsu Tech. The edges of your kimono were stained with mud, with a chunk of your haori ripped out on the left side. Megumi frowned. Silk, he noted, and gold. You’re dressed too well to be here, but too oblivious to be a threat. Just to be sure, he let his fingers curl around the handle of one of his tonfas before he spoke. 

“Who are you?” 

Startled, you turned to face him, and his scowl deepened. You were pretty, even with your eyes rounded in shock, and the undignified noise that had escaped you when you realized you weren’t alone. When you told him your name, voice hesitant, Megumi couldn't help but hate the way his heart reacted as you spoke. 

“I’m looking for Gojo Satoru,” you finished, teeth sinking into the plush of your bottom lip as you waited for his response. Megumi swallowed hard.

“A lot of people do.” He kept his tone steady, forced himself not to let the heat in his chest rise to his face. “What’s a Kamo doing here, looking for him?” 

Megumi had heard of you, of course. Gojo had raised him with at least a basic understanding of the three Big Families, and their prominent figures from both the past and present. The half-sister to Noritoshi Kamo, you had been held behind while your elders sent him away to the sister school in Kyoto. Women, Gojo had said, tone playful but eyes cold, are seen as nothing more than breeding stock and political pawns. They’ll probably keep her there until she’s married off. 

Something seems to settle inside you, and Megumi can’t help but watch, ensnared in the web you weave. Your hands smooth over the creases in your kimono as you exhaled, shoulders rounding back. Even covered in grime you radiated elegance, though you were betrayed by the still-skittish look in your eyes. “I’m here to make a deal with him.” 

A few days after the four of you had returned from your assignment in Kawasaki, you realized that Megumi was behaving rather oddly. 

At first, he seemed moody. Tired, you assumed. With promotions coming up, Gojo-sensei had been training the four of you even more rigorously than usual. Your mornings were filled with research, analyzing the few texts that Jujutsu Tech had recovered on cursed techniques that were even remotely similar to your own. The evenings were spent sparring, with thick dust kicked up under the lukewarm breeze, and the faint howls of Megumi’s shikigami in the distance. 

Sighing, you squat down, calling softly into the woods until one of his Divine Dogs trot out, tongue lolling out happily. You can’t help the wistful smile that tugs at your lips as you run your fingers through soft, black fur. They’d taken a liking to you, after you started carrying a few dog treats in your gear to give to them. Megumi had always complained that you spoiled them, babied them too much. You couldn’t help it. You loved his shikigami dearly. 

What did that say about you? The thought makes you lightheaded for a moment. The heat, you think, a bit desperate. It was all the heat. 

“You’re late.” 

You tilt your head backwards, startling at how close he’d gotten to you. He’s dressed for the summer heat, ditching his uniform for something more practical. Linen pants brush by you as he reaches your side, and your heart seems to convulse when you realize you can see the slight ripple of muscle under the fabric of his shirt.  Heat flares in your cheeks and you look away. Stormy eyes study you, a flicker of something predatory passing through them before he turns to his shikigami. 

“And you. Stop running off like that.” 

The Divine Dog whines, and you crinkle your nose, turning back to meet his gaze. “I was calling for it because I couldn’t find you. You weren’t where we normally spar.” 

“Gojo wanted us to use the other fields.” 

“Fine, fine.” Petulant, you reach for his wrist, hoisting yourself up off the ground. Before you can even speak, he’s tearing it from your grasp as though you’ve burnt him. “Hurry up. We’re losing light.” 

You follow after him quietly, ignoring the sting in your hand from the phantom contact. He’s probably overwhelmed with the work we’ve been doing, you remind yourself, yet you can’t help the slight feeling of dread that runs up your spine. His dog noses at your palm, whining softly, as thought it can sense your distress. Its owner however seems none the wiser. 

“Why did you want to spar today? Didn’t Gojo-sensei say we could take today off?”  

“The next mission is the one that the higher-ups are sending us on to see if we should be recommended for a higher grade. That means it’s going to be more dangerous than usual.” 

The trees clear to reveal a clearing, grass matted down from hours of sparring. “I hate when you’re right.” 

Megumi spares you a sharp glance but says nothing else. “Warm up quickly. I want to be back before it gets dark.” 

You stretch out under the waning light, letting your technique run through your body for a few moments. Cheating, Yuuji would insist, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t eager for a fight. The upcoming mission loomed over you, anxiety building as you thought about the uncertainties of it all. You hadn’t trusted the higher-ups from the beginning, and you especially didn’t trust them in any circumstance where Itadori Yuuji’s life was at risk. You exhale, feeling the familiar buzz of your cursed energy flow as you move. “Okay. I’m ready.” 

Sparring with Megumi feels like a dance, more than anything else. He was your partner long before Yuuji and Nobara had even transferred to Tokyo, and your body has been trained to move as seamlessly with him as possible. Every step forward he takes you step back, and with each swing of the staff, your katana rises up to meet up. You lose yourself in it for a moment, watching the way his jaw clenches in concentration, eyebrows furrowed as you narrowly avoid a pointed elbow. A sharp jab of your blade, and Megumi is suddenly right in front of you. The air leaves your lungs in his presence taking in the scent of his laundry detergent and the slightest tinge of the soap he uses. He takes advantage of your distraction to disarm you, flipping you neatly into a hold. 

“Yield,” he says, pressing his knee down into your stomach a little more firmly. You try your best to ignore the sight of him kneeled between your legs as you try to kick out from under him. His eyes darken at the sight of you, pinned and struggling to free yourself. 

“Yield,” he says, once more, and you do, letting your body rest against the ground as you stare up at him. There’s a bead of sweat trickling down his temple, the veins of his slender hands raised as he holds his staff. You let your hand curl against the wood of it, feeling the pressure of it resting on your throat. 

“I yield,” you say, and in that moment you know that you have. Fushiguro Megumi has stolen your heart from the day you met him. I’d give you everything, you realize, as Megumi helps you to your feet. There are 35 trillion blood cells in the human body, and every single one of them runs for you. You let your fingers intertwine with his for the briefest moment before forcing yourself to pull away. I would do anything to have you. My greatest sin and my holiest salvation wrapped into a single body. 

“That was a good fight,” he tells you, taking your silence for sulking. Maybe I wanted to lose. Maybe I did want to fall for you. Would that be such a sin? 

“Thanks,” is your stilted answer, the setting sun sealing your fate. You’re in love with Fushiguro Megumi. And you don’t quite know what to do about it. 

The mission is simple enough, until it isn’t. An abandoned hospital, Ijitchi had said in the car ride over. Residual curses had been spotted clinging to the interior, feeding off of an unknown source within. Intel had suggested that it was a Grade 2 spirit at most. You watch as Nobara takes a bit too much pleasure in nailing the swarms of weak curses that had greeted you at the entrance, Yuuji laughing at how easily his fists send them to a rather unpleasant demise. Yet, you can’t shake the feeling of unease that settles over you. This is too easy for a promotion mission. What were they hiding? 

Then Megumi opens the doors to what would’ve been the emergency room, and all hell breaks loose. 

Bloodstains, bright red, catch your eye first. They’re splattered all over the room, on the floor, curtains, and on the hospital sheets yellowed with age. You see the bones next. Human; skulls, ribcages, femurs, all picked clean and white enough to shine under the fluorescent lighting. The light flickers. A tumorous mass sits in the center of the room, a conglomeration of hair, teeth, and eyes that blink slowly at you. Your spine stiffens, and immediately, you pull Megumi towards you as a ropelike strand of hair tightens around the spot where he was standing. 

Those fuckers. A Semi-Grade 1? 

“Megumi,” is all you can make out. In the hallway, you can hear something more menacing, something equally as terrible as what sits in the room inside with you. You can hear Nobara’s cry of pain as a nauseating crack rips through the air. They won’t survive without him. “I’m sorry.” 

His eyes widen in understanding a fraction too late as you gather all your energy and shove him back out into the corridor as the curse flings a file cabinet at you. It crashes into the door, and you can hear Megumi calling your name with something that sounds like desperation. The hinges rattle as he throws his weight against it, but the cabinet holds firm. When you turn to face the curse in front of you, the look in its eyes is amused as you draw your blade. A cavernous maw opens, splitting it down the center as misshapen lumps of flesh spill out. Smaller curses, remnants of the innocents it had lured and devoured. A sudden chill goes through your body. 

This isn’t a Semi-Grade. This is a full-fledged Grade 1. 

There’s something vicious in the way you move, tearing through cursed spirits as though they’re paper. Ichor stains the ground around you, as red as the blood you channel through your veins. Dimly, you think you’re screaming. It was a set up, you think desperately. Of course the higher-ups would try to kill Itadori Yuuji at any cost. They didn’t give a fuck about you, or Nobara, or Megumi. Fury fills the cavern of your chest as you lunge for the hulking Grade 1, as it grotesquely pushes out the corpse of one of its victims into something far more sinister. You rip it to shreds without a second thought. 

The sound of steel on flesh makes the hair of your arms rise as you finally manage to cut a nasty gash into the misshapen curse in front of you. It howls in pain, tendrils reaching for your body as you leap away. Instead, the tendrils open the serrated wound a bit further, opening a new pocket for its children to crawl out of. That was the first blow you’d been able to land; ten minutes have passed since you trapped yourself inside a room with it. Will you make it out alive? You shake the thought away angrily.

Gritting your teeth, you increase your blood flow, shooting it down to your legs and the fibers of your muscles. Your blade shines as it cuts down curses, the Grade 1 merely watching with a demeanor that you can only describe as bored. It’s toying with you, you realize, but what pricks your heart isn’t fear, but resignation. Your foot catches on the rubble for only a moment, and the Grade 1 moves, slamming you into the wall with enough force for you to feel your ribs shatter. Blood fills your mouth and you choke, lungs heaving. Punctured, your technique tells you, a liter gone. The air tastes like iron and salt, and you realize with a start that you’re dying. 

You feel oddly calm as the world spins, watching as the ropes of hair approach your prone body. The last thing you see is the door shattering open, and the look in Megumi’s eyes as he sees you. There’s terror in his normally stoic expression, his arm outstretched towards you as Nue dives for you. Nobara and Yuuji are moving, but all you can see is him. His hands are bloodied at the fingertips, as though he’d been clawing at the door with his own hands to pry it open, his lips moving soundlessly. There’s a dull ringing in your ears, the toll of death that signals your end. His hand cups your face, and you allow yourself to lean into it for a moment, reveling in the touch. I could die like this, is your final thought as you succumb to your injuries. I’m happy that you’re holding me, Megumi.

The world around you feels muted, when you finally awaken. Your vision is blurred as you peel your eyelids back, and you wince at the sensation. How long have you been out for? Slowly, the blurred tinges of light start to focus. A lamp, dimly lit to your right on the nightstand next to a pitcher of water and an empty cup. A punctured lung, a liter gone. Your hand drifts to the bandages that wrap your chest, carefully letting your cursed technique scan your body. A few lacerations, but for the most part you were fine. Crisp sheets rustle as you sit up, examining your surroundings. The hospital in the infirmary. Somehow, they managed to bring you back. 

Megumi’s eyes, so desperate and lost as his hand reached for you. 

You try not to think about it, as you carefully test your body. Your limbs ache, but that’s to be expected. Your hair has been neatly pulled away from your face; Nobara’s work, no doubt. Her screams from behind the door, the dread in your chest when you realized they might not survive without Megumi. You watch your fingers shake as you reach for the water, letting it soothe away the pain in your throat. Did she even make it? Did they live? 

The door opens, startling you from your thoughts. Megumi stands in the doorway, hand pushing through his hair. You take a moment to examine him, noting the dark circles under his pale skin, and how his long hair seemed mussed. His eyes scan the room, passing over you before focusing on you with startling clarity. 

“You’re awake.” 

Hesitantly, you nod, as he drops into the seat beside you. “Did…did they…”

He cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence. “Kugisaki and Itadori are fine.” 

You stare down at your hands, letting the silence wash over you. Yet, you’re dimly aware of how suffocating it feels, how your shoulders were unable to relax even with the knowledge that your friends were alive and safe. Megumi continues to watch you, but before you can say something, anything,  his voice fills the air, terse and clipped. 

“What the fuck were you thinking?” 

Startled, your eyes meet his. “What?” 

“Did you think I was too weak? That I couldn’t handle it just because you’ve been a Grade 2 longer than I have?” The eyes that normally watched you with a hint of affectionate exasperation were cold, and hard. “You behaved recklessly. Did you even think about how it impacted the rest of us? Because of you, Kugisaki broke her leg, and Itadori almost had his arm cleaved off. You did all of that just for the rest of us to find you half dead in a puddle of your own bones and blood.” 

“Stop it,” you whisper, but Megumi’s voice only twists into something far more cruel. “You thought you were being so brave, sacrificing yourself, only to realize that you weren’t that special. You couldn’t even take down that Grade 1 alone. Kugisaki had to save you, even as she was practically screaming from the pain.” 

“Megumi,” you whisper, and he pauses, clearly unused to his name falling from your lips. “Why are you so angry at me?” Your voice breaks ever so slightly and you bite your lip hard enough to taste blood, ashamed at the wetness in your eyes. “Where is this coming from? I don’t understa-” 

He slams his palm against the wooden surface of your bedside table, rattling the drawers. “Are you really that stupid to ask what you did wrong? You fucked up. I thought you were different, but in reality, you’re no better than the rest of your clan, are you? You’re just another filthy Kamo.” 

Your hands shake as you twist them into the off-white infirmary sheets. “What are you talking about?” 

Megumi laughs, but it’s jaded, sharp. “Congratulations. You’re being promoted to a Semi-Grade 1, all because of your little stunt that landed the rest of us into hospital beds. Even though we all had to help you finish it off, they’re only choosing you. I wonder why.” 

“Megumi.” Your voice rises, as your heart finally shatters. “I did it because I thought you would die, you know that. I don’t give a fuck about the politics of the higher ups, or my clan, or even my grade. I just wanted to protect you all. You know that.” 

He rises from the chair next to your side, expression indifferent to the tears that are rolling down your cheeks. “As if I’d believe you.” 

“Megumi,” you call out, desperately, as he walks away. “Megumi!” 

He doesn’t look back, and you’re left alone in the dark with only the moon to bear company as you sob. I don’t understand, you think, deliriously. Can’t you see that I love you? Can’t you see I’d rather die than watch you break in front of me? 

Megumi barely makes it to the lawn before he retches into the bushes. Bile rises in his throat and he squeezes his eyes shut as he replays the moment over and over and over again. For five days, he’d held vigil at your bed. For five days, he realized that your love for him would get you killed. For five days, he’d wrapped his heart in iron, knowing that what he was about to do would break the both of you. I would’ve only gotten you killed, he thinks, numbly. It’s what landed you here in the first place. 

Yet, Megumi can’t stop recalling the exact moment the relief in your eyes had turned into betrayal, how your lips had trembled and your hands shook. Your voice, desperate and pleading, calling his name as he forced his legs to walk away from you. How he can hear your sobs faintly trailing from the windows above, matching the tears that are trailing down his cheeks. 

You’ll hate him forever, he thinks, dazed, as he forces himself onto his feet. You’ll hate him forever, and by god it’ll be the most painful thing he’s ever experienced, but as long as you’re alive he can bear it. As long as he never has to see you there again, laying in a heap of your own blood, eyes dazed and unseeing, he will carry the sins that it takes to keep you alive and away from him. 

I love you. I love you, and I’m sorry that someone like me ever fell for someone like you. I love you so much that the thought of being without me tears me to shreds. I love how you take care of my shikigami like they're your own. I love how every touch you give me heals something that I didn't know I was missing. I love you, and I need you to live more than I need air to breathe.

I love you, and even though I don't think you'll ever forgive me, I'll always follow wherever you go.

𝒹𝒶𝒷𝒾'𝓈 𝒹𝑒𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉.

synopsis; dabi as a father - who knew he was such a family guy?

You click the small white circle towards the bottom of your phone for just about the hundredth time, angling your phone over Dabi as he slept soundly - the white haired baby on his chest peering up at you with a gummy smile

You giggle, pocketing your phone as you reach your hand forward to ruffle your little baby boy's unruly white hair while dabi shifts in his sleep, mumbling your name before he goes slack again

"He's tired, hm?" You hum, carefully lifting the baby off of his broad chest as you lay yourself on the couch beside Dabi, pushing your baby's hair from his forehead as an adorable pair of eyes stared back at you

"We really need to cut your hair." You huff, pushing back yet another stray strand out of the baby's eyes as he babbles something - staring at his dad with a chubby, outstretched hand

Dabi's eyes flutter open - and his hands instinctively reach towards his chest which felt entirely too light - but his eyes catch onto your smiling figure as he slowly turns to you with a lazy grin

"Punk woke up before me, huh?"

As if in response to his words, the little baby in your arms lets out a gurgle of excitement with twinkling eyes - crawling towards his father as Dabi outstretches his arms to welcome him into his embrace

He nestles right onto Dabi's chest, and soon enough - you too are curling yourself against his bare skin with a content sigh, smiling when you see Dabi already looking at you

"Want another one?"

Your smile falters in surprise as you attempt to form a coherent response - sputtering out a quiet huh?! as Dabi laughs loudly

"What? He's pretty cute. Look at him chewing on my shirt - we can get another one to chew on yours so it's fair." He says casually, pulling back your son's cheeks gently from his tattered shirt at the little boy whines - latching his gummy teeth back onto Dabi's shirt the second he looks away and turns towards you

"Or maybe they'll both chew on your shirt." You mumble, huffing in embarrassment from Dabi's previous comment.

How long have you and Dabi been together? Years. Even after all this time, he can still leave you blushing wildly with his shamelessly flirtatious comments.

Dabi grins a lopsided smile, peering down at the sleepy baby on his chest as he tilts his head, staring down into the little boy's eyes

They were a pair of eyes he once hated, they reminded him entirely of his father and reflection in the mirror - oh the nights he'd spent begging silently for his baby to have your wonderful eyes. But things had changed quickly. Now, he lived to see those cerulean eyes crinkle with life and laughter. It was such a sight to see.

"He's teething. We gotta get him some sort of a chew toy I think." You say quietly, and Dabi scoffs

"Like a dog?" He smirks - and you glare at him, gently slapping his chest while trying to keep yourself from smiling

"No dumbass, like - well, I don't know." You suddenly say, a tinge of frustration clear in your tone as you look at the baby who peers back cluelessly - it's hard not to smile when he reaches forward and starts playing with your hair

"Hey...come on now, we'll figure this out." He says determined, ruffling the little boy's hair with a sharp grin "It's my baby boy, he'll be fine. Matter of fact - he'll be the best. You and me as his ma and pop? Oh, bless his soul." He teases, gently tugging on your hair in the same manner the little boy in his lap did - and you squirm with a laugh when he moves his palm further back, cradling your head and pulling on the strands with an oddly loving look in his eyes

"Ok, ok! He can barely walk - you really think he's all that though, huh?" You giggle, nudging your son's chubby cheek with a curled knuckle as Dabi rolls his eyes with a small smile, tracing circles lightly on your hip as he shrugs

"He could totally kick my ass."

"He can't even talk!"

"Sure he can! Say dad." Dabi commands, looking down at the little boy as he babbles something curiously - looking between you and Dabi with wide eyes

You giggle quietly, watching Dabi trying to get the baby to say dad over and over again - his confidence in the little baby never once diminished. Over the next couple of days, you'd catch him trying to get your son to say the word 'dad' far too many times.

You'd tease him relentlessly for it - but he'd bounce back with a cocky response, defending the white haired baby perched on his hip as he huffed and pouted.

You should've taken Dabi's stubbornness into account - his relentless nature was fueled by his determination, and your baby seemed to fall victim to this fact.

It's only a few weeks later when you're laying with Dabi in bed after putting your son down for a nap when you hear a quiet cry from his nursery - you lift your head off of his chest, but he pushed you back down gently

"I got it - go back to sleep."

After mumbling a response, you sink into the pillow and prepare to fall asleep - but Dabi's thunderous footsteps sound through the hall, and you quickly sit up in bed with confusion when you hear him yelling

"He said it! Say it again, you punk! Say it say it!"

"Dadda" the little boy gurgles, and your eyes shine with excitement as you immediately leap out of bed, running over and enveloping the pair in a hug

"Your daddy just wouldn't leave you alone, hm?!" You squeal, your son's very first words echoing through your mind as your lips pull into a toothy grin

Dabi puffs out his chest proudly - and the look of pure fulfillment on his face has you smiling harder.

His own little family - he'd finally felt the love of a real home.

CRAWL HOME TO HER | 2,724 words (~21 minutes reading time). gn!reader, major character death, descriptions of universe-accurate deaths, accidental necromancy.

author’s notes: did not think i’d run into a kinktober piece given how i’m still getting my groove back, but there was one tumblr post i saw that just punted me into next week. so…here we are! enjoy. i haven’t written for this guy in a little while…i missed him <3 i'm taking a bit of a different vibe here with doing parts of a topic instead of one-shots! therefore, this will have a second part i'll release at some point this month. enjoy! -> taglist: @qichun @fuyuswifey @suyacho @stunies -> join the taglist!

it’s quiet. too quiet.

the fog that drifts over the city is thick, light rain speckling against the gravestones as you meander through the rows. some of the stones are barely readable, long forgotten from families who have since moved on. some are fresher, emblazoned with golden lettering, untouched by the weather. despite the rain, incense smoke hangs in the air, pungent scents of patchouli and dragon’s blood sharp in the lazy breeze.

your destination looms in front of you, the stench of freshly moved soil clinging to your nose as you settle down, your backpack landing lightly on the floor next to you. you pull out a packaged bento box, leaving it in your lap before lighting your own incense sticks. one is placed in front of an older gravestone, the next on the much newer stone beside it. the ground beneath the second stone is churned; there’s an incredibly faint stench of death from it, but you chalk it up to the bleary weather.

there are no words to share between you and the dead, but you begin to talk anyway.

“there was no funeral, you know.”

you stare at the name that’s emblazoned on the newer stone. the name HANMA SHUJI glares back at you. you continue.

“i knew you were involved in some shady shit, shuji, but…my god,” you say, sounding like a chiding mother as you shake your head, “i didn’t realize you were that stupid. getting yourself wrapped up with a crime syndicate? really?”

the words that leave your mouth are forcing a reaction from your chest. it’s tightening up, and angry tears prick at your eyes as you’re shot back into the past, only for a moment. you can feel the spring breeze drifting through your hair, a whisper of the sunshine tickling your face. you turn towards the main path, chopsticks frozen in your hand, as you watch two ghosts sprint through the yard.

one is tall, far too tall and gangly to be anyone else but shuji. he holds onto a much younger version of you’s hand, sly smile plastered across his face as he stumbles after you. your hand is tight around his own, fingers interlocking as you match his smile. your voice echoes across time; if you hadn’t been paying attention, you’d have missed it.

come on! we’re already late, and you know i hate taking this shortcut. it’s creepy!

shuji’s laugh sounds like a wind chime.

c’mon, doll, it ain’t that bad. you got me here, anyway. i’ll protect ya from the scary ghosts.

the spirits dissipate into the fog, gone as quickly as they came. like a dream.

you turn back to the stones. KISAKI TETTA stares back at you from the older stone, and you sigh, swallowing heavily. “and you,” you say, your voice shaking as you point your chopsticks at the offending name, “you knew better. you should have known better than all of us. you were smarter than all of us, and you went and got yourself flattened by a fucking supply truck. ridiculous.”

there’s wetness on your cheeks now, rage making the bento box in your lap unappetizing. you place it on the ground, crossing your arms over your chest. your jaw sets as you return your gaze to Shuji. your voice is so small for the anger that’s tearing through your muscles.

“you promised me you’d protect me. you promised.”

that’s the straw that breaks you. that stupid little comment he’d made so long ago, so long before you’d all gotten wrapped up in the horrors of what Kisaki’s plans had brought you all. you’d gotten out of it somehow, escaping his slimy clutches, but Shuji was not so lucky. he was too entranced, too addicted to the chase. it would’ve ended badly no matter what, for him.

the tears falling from your face drip into the soil as you bend over, your stomach twisting inside of your body. they mix in with the drizzle, soaking down into the dirt. you think nothing of it; why would you?

it’s just rain. it’s just tears. tears that have built up over years of frustration, of a reaction to a phone call you’d never have imagined you’d receive.

you can’t stay here. if you do you’re going to end up ripping both of their stones out and throwing them into the street. the bento box, uneaten, disappears into your bag, along with everything else. all that’s left behind of an indication that you visited is the incense burning in front of both stones.

as you go to open the gate, you could’ve sworn you heard something move. it sounded like digging, a scrabbling noise similar to a sound a rat makes as it crawls up a pipe. you turn around; but nothing is out of the ordinary behind you. all the stones are still where they should be, the dirt untouched.

“fucking ghosts.”

still…you can’t get rid of the feeling that someone is watching you as you walk home. your neck hairs feel like they’re standing up completely straight, no matter how many times you scratch that stretch of skin.

the relief you feel after getting inside your house is immeasurable.

the feeling stops.

the rain only gets worse as the day progresses.

you stay inside; you have off work today, so you make yourself a nice tea and settle into the couch with a good book you’ve been pushing off on finishing. you deserve a nice day to yourself; and a rainy day is a fantastic excuse to do so.

the night comes before you realize it, the street lamps turning on amongst the torrential downpour. it’s a mess out there, car engines muffled by the rain hammering on your roof. you trudge into the kitchen, an instant ramen packet making its way into a bowl and into the microwave. tonight was not the night to be making dinner; low effort food was better than no food, and you did still have the bento box.

the movie you put on drifts you to sleep, warm ramen and bento in your belly as your eyes slide shut. despite your mini-breakdown in the graveyard, you feel good that you went. you know shuji would have appreciated it, in his own little way. you can practically see his crooked smile behind your eyelids. a visit? for me? you shouldn’t have, doll. feelin’ pretty taken care of.

“fuck you,” you whisper as sleep finally claims you.

it doesn’t last for long.

a loud bang on the door forces you awake. your watch that you hold up to your face reads 03:00 AM in bright numbers, and you groggily wipe at your eyes. “the fuck?” you say to yourself, wondering how badly this person needs you to answer the door. you pause before getting up, waiting for another knock. maybe if you don’t make yourself known to be home, they’ll go away — none of your indoor lights are on to indicate you’re even home, barring the normal porch light. you can see a shadow against the wall, but nothing more.

the banging starts again, even louder this time, and you jump to your feet. adrenaline spikes through your veins, fear clutching at you as you pad towards the door. “my god, okay, okay!” you holler towards the door as your hand lands on the doorknob.

you don’t turn it, though. you’re frozen all of a sudden.

the doorknob’s golden cover is ice cold. like someone is chilling it from the outside.

something primal arises in you. it’s a flight response, you’ve felt it before so many times when you’d hang around kisaki and shuji. you know it so well, even after all these years. why now? your brain panics, neurons firing, colliding information around in your head as if your very self is going scorched earth. every alarm in your mind is going off, telling you to not open this fucking door.

what the fuck what the fuck what the f—

you yank it open anyway. it takes effort, more effort than you’re used to, but you do it anyway.

a beat passes as your eyes take in what’s been lurking and banging behind the wooden door, and then you’re screaming. a bloodcurdling scream, one that sounded as if its coming from a prey animal having been caught by a predator, calling for help. it sounds far away — you can feel your vocal chords moving, but the sound doesn’t sound like it’s coming from you.

a humanoid hand slams over your mouth, pushing you back inside. the door closes behind the intruder, and you just stand there, shaking, letting its hand pressure your mouth as if wanting it to shut you up. heaven knows you wouldn’t have been able to stop at the horror you see before you.

it’s shuji. and he is covered in dirt.

it sticks to his pale skin, bits falling onto your carpet. he stinks of death, brown soil and grass dirtying the remaining fabric of his three-piece striped suit. dried blood is caked all over him, only adding to the horrible smell that’s coming off of him.

your eyes move upwards.

his lips seem normal; not the undead purple that you’re used to seeing in your shitty zombie Halloween movies. in fact, he seems relatively intact despite being dead as the dirt that clings to his body from hours ago.

he’s even wearing circular glasses as you look up to meet his eyes, against every screeching nerve of your judgement.

his eyes are…normal.

well, they’re glowing, which is different.

but they’re the same gold and purple that you remember. one of his lenses is broken, cracks spiderwebbed across its surface. beyond that, the structure of the frames seems as though its kept up. the crack looks newer. one of his hands comes up to his face to push the glasses further up his nose — you don’t miss the dirt caked under his broken fingernails. they’re cracked in odd places, as if…

as if he clawed his way out of the grave you were just at.

your entire body is frozen. you can’t scream anymore even if you wanted to, and he seems to recognize that as he removes his large hand. his hands are clammy, but he says nothing. he looks almost as surprised as you are, but in a different way. there’s no fear in his eyes, not a single hint of it. you would know; you’ve seen him afraid a handful of times, but for some reason there’s nothing like that there.

there’s only a strong, intense look. the word that appears in your brain is devotion.

something finally clicks in your brain, and you can move again.

you take a step back.

he takes a step forward.

you take another step back.

he takes another step forward.

your hand, shaking so hard you can barely point at him, raises. your finger quivers.

“y-y-y-y-you’re s-supposed to be—”

for the first time since rising again, shuji speaks.

“dead?”

his voice is gravelly. harsh. like he hasn’t used it in a while — which you instantly scoff at, because yeah, of course he wouldn’t have used it in a while. he’s been dead for weeks!

“yes!” it comes out as a squeak, your pointer finger still jabbing at him. “what the fuck! what is this? is this a sick joke? who are you? why are you dressed up as my friend? why—”

he lurches forward, hand gripping onto your shoulder. his grip is more intense than it used to be, as if he’s trying to dig underneath your skin. dig, dig, dig. as if to root himself inside of you.

you should run, you know that. you should run to your room and lock the door and pray to every god that he goes away. you should run the few steps through the kitchen to grab one of your knives, even if killing him again won’t kill him forever since he clearly can’t just stay dead. there’s a glimmer of hope that he disappears with the night, like a bad dream. this is just a bad dream, a nightmare. just a nightmare, of course, why didn’t you—

“not a dream, doll. it’s me.”

did i say that out loud?

the pet name flips a switch, and where there was cold fear, warm rage floods through your veins. you push off his hand with more force than you think you have, and your palms plant on his chest, ready to shove him away.

your hands freeze against him, like you can’t move him. like he locks your hands in place simply by touching him. the tile beneath your bare feet actively battles against you.

“fuck you,” you spit at him, pressing against him, trying to move your hands as his eyes widen behind his glasses, “fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. i cannot believe you— what the fuck is this? what the fuck are you doing here? how dare you—”

a litany of curses falls from your mouth in a rainstorm, almost as terrifying as the storm echoing outside. thunder rumbles and cracks as your voice raises in tone, lightning flashing through the window. it lights up shuji’s face, and his expression has your hands curling into fists, beating his chest, slamming against the clammy skin.

“why?” you finally shriek. “why now? why would you torment me like this? do you know how long it took me to gather the courage to even bother visiting you and Tetta? do you understand how this fucked me up? how my first fucking boyfriend died in some dumb ass stand-off in a gang that you didn’t belong in when you should have just—fucking stayed with me? DO YOU?”

a final thunderclap shakes your apartment’s walls, as if the very gods are rioting against what’s happening in your kitchen. as if they disagree with the unspoken ritual that’s happened to bring shuji back. as if they are as angry as you are for seeing the man you loved since you were a child standing in your kitchen, dripping blood, dirt and viscera all over your white tile.

your voice dies in your throat, the last words you’d spoken echoing around the apartment. tears flood your cheeks, dripping onto the floor. shuji says nothing, eyes wide in surprise. he studies you, more than he used to; he was always so flippant, but now…it looks like he’s actually listening. like he can actually hear you for once.

he looks hurt.

“no.”

his answer is short. you feel like an egg cracked open now, arms falling uselessly by your sides as you stand there and cry in front of him, sobs tearing at your throat. “how could you?” you manage to get out, watching him through bleary eyes, more sobs falling from your lips. you let him move to you—

and his arms wrap around you.

his lips press against the shell of your ear as your sobs quiet into sniffles and hiccups.

“i’m so sorry. i’m so, so, so sorry, doll. so sorry.”

“you think an apology is gonna fix this?” you whisper wetly.

“no.”

“then why would you—”

“because even if you take or not, you still deserve one.”

you’ve been through so many emotions in the past minutes. it’s felt like a whirlwind. “i know, moron,” you hiccup, “but you haven’t answered me. why are you here?”

shuji moves away from you then. there’s color coming back into his cheeks, as if he’s warming up again just by standing in the heat of your home. the dirt has liquefied, rivulets dripping off of him and onto your floor, but you don’t care. you’re suddenly so tired, your legs shaking, but you need an answer. you need him to answer you—

“because of you. because you need me. because i love you.”

you blink. “y-you what?” you gasp out.

he repeats himself, like he’s reading out the ingredients on the back of a soup can. it feels so far away as your legs finally give out, the floor quickly speeding towards your vision. you don’t miss the feeling of him catching you, large (warmed) hands wrapped around your figure as you pass out. his declaration lingers, though, like a whisper as you let yourself slip into unconsciousness.

“i love you.”

divider credit: @/cafekitsune networks: @pixelcafe-network @themovingcastlez

disclaimer: DO NOT copy or repost my works for any reason. translations are acceptable, but please ask for permission first!

© togamest 2023-2024

u can run but u can hide

cw. ghostface!suna x fem!reader, pet names, smut, little non-con if u pay attention, established relationship at the end, english isn’t my first language.

wa. 2,7k

It was close to 10 p.m. when I went down to the kitchen to make some popcorn. My parents went on a trip and left me home alone. It was common for nights like this to happen, as they always traveled for work.

I put the butter and corn in the popcorn maker and turned on the stove at the same time as the landline in the living room started ringing. The phone was maintained by my parents' work, because let's face it, nobody still uses a landline these days.

“Hello?”

“Hello, who is it?” a thick voice asked on the other end of the line.

“Who are you trying to reach?”

“What number is this?”

“What number are you trying to reach?” I replied.

“I don't know.”

“Well, I think you have the wrong number, then” I spoke simplistically.

“Do I?”

“Yeah, it happens.” I shrugged, even though the person couldn't see me, and hung up the phone without waiting for an answer. I turned to go back into the kitchen when the phone rang again.

“Yeah, I guess I really did call the wrong number.” It was the same voice.

“So why did you call again?” I asked, with a laugh.

“To apologize.”

“You're forgiven. Bye.”

“Wait, don't hang up!” The person exclaimed.

“Huh? Why not?”

“I want to talk to you for a minute.”

“Well, you have plenty of other numbers for that.” I said with a smile, hanging up the phone.

The popcorn had left a delicious aroma in the kitchen and my mouth was already watering. I was stirring the popcorn popper, waiting for the corn to stop popping, when my cell phone rang. It was a private number, so I had no idea who it was, but I answered anyway.

“Hello?” I asked as I looked for a bowl to put my popcorn in.

“Why don't you want to talk to me?”

“Okay, who is it?”

“Tell me your name and I'll tell you mine.”

“Um, no, I don't think so.” I rested my cell phone on my neck to get the popcorn out of the pot.

“What's that noise?”

“Popcorn.”

“Um, I only eat popcorn at the movies.”

“Well, I'm going to watch a movie now.”

“Yeah? What movie?”

“Oh it's just some scary movie.”

“A scary movie? Interesting” the person on the other end of the line paused and I could hear his heavy breathing “What's your favorite scary movie?”

“Oh, I don't know...” I pondered a bit, leaning on the kitchen counter, popping some popcorn in my mouth “I think… Scream.”

“It's the one with the masked killer, isn't it?”

I mumbled an "uh-huh", wanting to end the conversation

“So, do you have a boyfriend?” The person asks.

“Why? Do you want to ask me out on a date?” I asked mischievously, with a laugh.

“Maybe. Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Mm, no.”

“You never told me your name.”

“Why do you wanna know my name?”

“‘Cause I wanna know who I’m looking at.” the person stopped talking and I remained silent, a shiver ran through my body and the joke was no longer funny. “Are you used to being alone at home, y/n?”

“Who's talking?” I asked seriously this time.

“Calm down, there's no need to get nervous” the person spoke with an annoying calmness “You see, it's important to lock all the doors when you're home alone, especially at this time of night. Are you sure everything is locked, y/n?”

“It's not funny anymore. You know I can call the police if you carry on with this silly little game, don't you?” I checked the front door and the door to the living room that led to the garden and both were locked.

“Yeah? And what would you say to the police? Although... I don't think it's a good idea to call the police, sweetheart, especially given the clothes you're wearing, right? You know how disgusting these guys can be.”

I swallowed, going up to the second floor.

“And what am I wearing?” I asked. It was probably just some weirdo trying to prank and scare me. From school, maybe. But even so, I checked the glass doors leading to the balcony, just to be sure.

“Um, let's see... You're wearing a black tank top, and apparently you're not wearing a bra since your nipples are marked on the fabric, and a... what is that? A pair of panties? Shorts? I can't tell the difference, but it's short, black and has a kitten print.” My heart was pounding out of my chest and I wouldn't be surprised if it jumped out “You're quite a sight, y/n.”

“Right, end of joke. I'll call the police.” I ended the call and went to my room. Of course I wouldn't call the police for that.

A cold wind blew in through the open window, chilling my bare legs. I hurried to close it and locked it out of conscience just as I heard a noise in the hallway, only to stick my head out and see nothing. I jumped with a gasp when my cell phone rang again, but fortunately, this time it was my mother.

“Hi babygirl, how are you?” she asked softly and I relaxed at hearing her voice.

“Hey, Mom! I’m okay, how are you?” I lied, I wasn't going to worry my parents on account of some unoccupied weirdo.

“We're fine!” I heard my father shouting "I love you, baby!" in the background and my mother's laughter “I called to see if everything was okay, you're not scared, are you?”

I laughed nervously “Of course not! I'm a big girl, I can stay at home on my own!”

“Huuumm okay, Mrs. Grown-up” we laughed “Make sure you go to sleep soon, huh? Don't stay up till dawn.”

“Yes, ma'am!” We laughed some more and said goodbye.

I was able to relax a bit more and went down to the kitchen to get my popcorn. I went upstairs and turned off the downstairs lights that were on and returned to my room, putting the movie on the TV and lying down on the bed.

[…]

I was almost halfway through the movie, about forty minutes in, when I heard a noise, a kind of thump. I instantly remembered the phone call from earlier, which had really scared me. I decided to ignore it, it must have been the wind knocking something over in the garden or something. I played the movie and snuggled into bed, my popcorn bucket long since empty. But, as my peace wasn't lasting long tonight, I began to hear heavy footsteps in the hallway. I stopped the movie immediately. I tried to convince myself that it was nerves about the phone call that must have been in my head, or even the influence of the movie, but it was too real to be in my head. The footsteps were firm, they didn't seem to want to go unnoticed. A thick, loud voice said "toc, toc" followed by two knocks on my door. I froze, paralyzed on the bed.

“Cat got your tongue, y/n?” it was the same voice from the phone, I knew for sure.

“What are you doing in my house?! How did you get in here?” I asked nervously.

“Come on, I told you it was dangerous to leave the doors unlocked, didn't I?” the guy said, in the same calm, irritating tone of voice.

“Everything was locked, you weirdo!”

“Are you sure?” the door handle began to turn slowly and my body moved on its own towards the closet.

I hid among my clothes, crouching on the floor. I was panting and shaking, tears in the corners of my eyes. I heard the door creak open and footsteps entered my room. I mentally cursed myself when I realized that I had left my cell phone on the bed. Now would be a good time to call the police.

“Do you want to play hide and seek?” he said, laughing before continuing: “All right, it's more interesting that way.”

I heard him open the door to my bathroom and I could see when he turned the light on through the crack in the door. I also heard him open the drawer of my dressing table and play the movie on the television, even though he had turned the volume down.

My heart was pounding loudly and I was afraid he could hear it, so I put my hand over my mouth to stop my panting coming out too loud. I watched as he opened the closet door. He was a tall guy. All black pants, shirt and boots and a white ghost mask preventing me from seeing his face. The fucking ghostface. He rummaged through some hangers, making space between the clothes. My heart beat even faster, he'll find me. He'll find me!

“Boo!” he made space at once between the clothes covering me, a sadistic laugh coming from beneath his mask.

[…]

“What do you want?” I asked in a tearful voice, sniffling.

He laughed: “Let's watch the movie.”

What?!

I looked at him paralyzed, still crouched on the floor of my closet, and he left, sitting on my bed.

“Aren't you coming?” he turned to me, as if waiting for me. I got up from the floor, walking slowly over to him and sitting on the bed on top of my legs. He shook his head in denial, clicking his tongue. “Come here, sit down.” he patted his own lap.

I swallowed and looked at him incredulously, even though I couldn't see his face. I stood up and faced him. With surprising speed, he turned me onto my back and whispered against the back of my neck: “Do you know what a safe word is, y/n?” I nodded “Yours is mercy, you'll use it if you need to.”

His big an cold hands gripped my thighs firmly from behind.

“Bent forward and your head on the floor.” he ordered, his voice firm.

I did as he asked, sat on his lap, my clitoris almost brushing against his scratchy jeans, I was hanging off the bed, my torso stretched out and my face almost touching my white fur rug.

“What do we have here?” he said, and even though I couldn't see his face, I could tell he was smiling.

He pulled my pajama shorts aside, the chilly air in the room making my pussy clench around nothing, since I wasn't wearing any panties. He ran one of his fingers between my outer lips, realizing right there that I was wet.

“Did the fright I gave you make you wet, sweetheart? What a pervert...” he pulled my shorts down my legs with a little difficulty due to the position, hooking my ankles around his waist.

His hands roamed up and down my thighs, his thumbs hooking into the curve of my ass. I was all open for him, open and dripping.

“So pretty, babe” his voice was nothing more than a whisper, followed by a slap on my ass. It burned.

One more.

One more.

One more.

My thighs trembled from the slaps and my pussy throbbed and ached from lack of stimulation. I moved my hips down, my clitoris rubbing against his jeans, and I let out a louder moan than I expected.

“Owwn” he laughed “Does that pussy need something, pretty girl?”

I gasped when his icy thumb brushed under my clitoris.

“Come on, beautiful, I asked you a question. Don't be rude.”

“I...” I was dizzy. Maybe because I was horny, maybe because of my position and my blood was rushing to my head. I was nothing but a mess.

“Looks like someone here likes to be scared” he laughed as he rubbed my swollen clit.

I moaned, unconsciously leaning towards him for more contact as his palm slapped my pussy, the pain reverberating throughout my body. He slapped my ass again, my skin was hot and burning.

“Your pussy looks even prettier when your ass is red, that’s funny” but his tone had no humor in it.

When the seventh slap came, I let out a yelp, scrambling to my feet in a failed attempt to ward off the pain burning my skin. He laughed at my attitude, stroking my burning ass. Each time he slammed into me, the momentum pushed me further and further down, rubbing my clit against his jeans, which were probably already stained with my lubrication. Those flashes of pleasure were what kept me there, the pain and pleasure turning me on even more.

“Come on, babe, do you want to cum already?” he asked in a whisper, leaning down.

I turned my crying face to the side, trying to see his figure: “Yes! I... Please!” I was nothing but a humiliating mess who just wanted some relief.

“Very well, then” he pulled my torso to himself, my back against his hard and warm chest, my battered ass pinching under his scratchy jeans.

“You okay, babe? Do you want to use your word?” he asked, his hot breath hitting my cheek. I denied it. He smiled. “That's my good girl.”

He laid me on the bed, my back on the mattress, while he lay on top of me. He ripped off my top with ease, my nipples erect from arousal and the chilly air in the room welcoming them. He tugged on my right nipple with his forefinger and thumb, twisting it and pulling it upwards, eliciting a moan from me. He left a kiss on my belly and started to undress, without taking off his mask yet. His chest was white and toned, with a few spots here and there, as were his thighs. His cock wasn't thick, but it was long and slightly curved upwards. The little pink head was leaking pre-cum and had a prominent vein at the base. I sighed at the sight.

“Enjoying the view, doll?” he asked, head tilted to the side, sliding his right hand in a slow masturbation. I tipped my head back, biting my lip with a stifled laugh. You bet I am. “Come here, sweetheart.”

He said slyly, pulling me up by my ankles and slowly inserting his cock into my needy pussy.

“Oh fuck” I moaned, sinking my head into the sheets. My insides trembled around his cock, feeling full. He sighed heavily above me, muffled by the mask.

He moved his hips back, taking his cock out completely, to shove it in again with force. He did this a few times before he started thrusting hard. I moaned loudly, too sensitive. My pussy was squeezing his hard cock and my clit was throbbing, my ass was burning against the sheets. I brought two fingers to my clit to stimulate it, but they were soon removed and replaced by his.

He rubbed my swollen spot hard with his thumb while I squeezed my nipples. The familiar pressure felt extremely good from my womb.

“Fuck, I'm going to cum!” I exclaimed as I felt my orgasm coming, and he increased the pace of his thrusts, driving deep into my pussy.

My legs trembled as the orgasm hit me and I opened my mouth in a silent moan. He penetrated me a few more times, prolonging my orgasm as he deposited his hot cum inside me.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed as he removed his mask, kissing me for the first time that night, a delicate kiss. I laughed against his lips. “You perverted little thing!” he laughed, slapping my sensitive ass, not so hard this time.

“Rin, babe! That was awesome!” I kissed him with so much love.

“You naughty naughty girl!” he laughed, biting my lower lip as he pushed his oozing cum back into my pussy.

“Yeah and you like it!”

Well, let's see what a coincidence. The weirdo Mr. Ghostface who broke into my house and fucked me happened to be my boyfriend, Suna. He and I always like to do something different when it comes to sex from time to time, and knowing that his naughty girlfriend was a little scared and horny about ghostface and that she'd be home alone all night, he wanted to surprise me. Besides, I would recognize my boyfriend's voice on the phone, which only increased my anxiety and excitement about what he would do that night. And what a good surprise it was!

evajacks headers. 💐

like/reblog if you save or use!

“i can do the alphabet in sign language!” eri chirps to you one night, tugging at the bottom of your skirt as she gazes up at you with that sparkle in her eyes she gets when she's about to show you something important.

the city hums softly outside your window. cars in the distance, someone’s dog barking, the occasional clink of a bottle hitting pavement. you’re curled on the couch with your legs tucked beneath you, fingers grazing the hem of the throw blanket, and eri’s settled close, knees bumping yours, her face lit by the soft blue flicker of the tv screen.

your mouth parts into a soft gasp, eyes going round with surprise, delight catching in your throat. “that’s so cool!” you grin, reaching for her instinctively, brushing a hand through her snowy hair. “you should show suki, he’d really like it.”

she nods, mouth stretched into a proud little beam, her arms winding around your leg in a hug, like she wants to melt into your side and stay there forever. “okay! where is he?”

you glance up, eyes flicking toward the hallway without much thought.

“i dunno,” you hum. “i think he’s getting your bedsheets.”

“i’m gonna go find him!” she cheers, letting go of you and running off without another word, small feet padding down the hallway before you can call out a reminder. to be gentle and cautious.

you sink back into the couch with a quiet wince, already imagining the startle that’s coming. katsuki doesn’t wear his hearing aids at home. he says they make him feel alienated, like he’s underwater in his own home. says he prefers the quiet, even when it means he misses footsteps behind him.

down the hall, eri’s palm skims the wall as she turns the corner.

“suki?” she calls out, forgetting he can't hear her.

she finds him with his back to the room, broad shoulders blocking the light from the closet as he reaches for the folded sheets on the top shelf.

she slowly steps over to his spot, tapping his bulgy arm and looking up at him with pride. he jumps, and almost blasts whatever it is coming near him. he knows it's not you, you make sure to knock on the wall or anything just to make yourself known before getting close to him.

it’s not dramatic, not loud, just a sharp inhale as his muscles twitch beneath his skin, the sheets nearly slipping from his hands, turning his head to look down at her in surprise.

“you scared me,” he mutters, voice low, words shaped more from breath than sound.

eri just grins up at him, undeterred. she lifts her right hand, fingers curling and tucking until they make a neat little H. katsuki raises a brow, the closet door creaking as it swings shut behind him.

immediately after, she forms an I with a soft grin

then she follows it with an I, fingers small and steady, her eyes never leaving his. her smile is proud. soft. expectant.

the moment reached him slower than it should have, but she keeps going.

her fingers move carefully, like she’s practiced this a hundred times in her room, mouthing the letters silently as she went. she starts spelling out the alphabet, grinning with pride.

by the time she gets to K, katsuki's kneeling, bringing himself to her level as he sits on his heels so they’re eye to eye. his expression softens in a way only a handful of people ever get to see.

his hand rises— not to stop her, not to fix her hands, not to take over. just to mirror her. to do it with her.

his lips are twitching, not into a smile yet, but close enough. something fond, folded under layers of gruffness and disbelief.

“you learn all that just for me?” he asks, low and rough.

eri nods, both hands flying up now, fingers tangling as she shows him N, then O, like she doesn’t want to waste time answering him out loud.

katsuki exhales like he’s been holding it in since she tapped him, then reaches forward and cups the back of her head gently, thumb brushing through her hair.

“your hair needs to be brushed." he murmurs, like he's trying to escape from the feeling inside of him. he's not even sure what it is, it just feels nice. to have her, this little girl, learn a language for him.

he reaches for the fallen sheets with a smile, a real smile. the kind that pushes up into his eyes and softens all the hard lines around his mouth.

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮; 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: voyeurism, assistant/sugarbaby!reader, playfully mean(to you)!sugardaddy!ceo!geto, ceo!gojo, taped on vibrator, small butt plug (no anal), edging, window sex, masturbation, squirting on the window, control orgasm, calling suguru sir, service sub!reader, bdsm hints, light begging, dirty talking, heavy praise/light degradation, hints at sharing you, spanking, biting

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: Suguru squeezing the ass of his cute little assistant. He loves hearing her soft squeal when he does it

Oreo: I’ve been fighting a headache trying to get this one done because I have a night need to be fucked like a whore against a window while gojo watches

Suguru looks past Jin, rock hard beneath the desk. You’re beautiful struggling to maintain your composure. Holding up his hand Jin falls quiet. “Bring me a glass of water.” Smirking when you stiffly stand, clenching your thighs together.

Clenching your thighs together, keeping eyes casted down, clasping your hands in your lap. Biting your lip, fighting for your life not to moan when the vibrator taped to your clit pulses faster.

You’re so close to cumming on Suguru’s sofa with one of his employees explaining their concerns. Soaking your underwear, your cunt clenching nothing. Your ass squeezing the small training plug.

“Yes sir!” Your voice is shaking, your whole body burning, cunt throbbing and tingling from the immense pleasure.

Turning away from Jin’s curious gaze. “As you were saying Mr. Jin.” The vibrations stop, the reprieve is welcoming and disappointing. Your sensitive clit twitches from getting worked up so close and the sudden lack of stimulation.

Opening the fully stocked mini fridge built into the wall, pulling out the bottle of water and a chilled glass from the cabinet beside. The toy vibrates on your soft clit, slapping your hand over your mouth, fighting yourself not to moan.

Ignoring Jin’s drawl, purely focusing on maintaining your slipping composure and not spilling the water. Throwing the plastic bottle into the recycle, grabbing the chilled glass of water, trembling. Getting lost in the sweet pleasure, it vanishes.

Taking a deep breath turning around to face your sugar daddy and his employee. Suguru isn’t looking at you, smiling at Jin. “Thank you for bringing that to my attention, I’ll see to it that’s taken care of, please see yourself out.” Pressing the button under his desk for the doors to slide open.

Jin nods his head, clasping his hands behind his back. “Yes sir, thank you.” Stiffly walking past Jin, grateful he finally leaving. Going around Suguru’s desk. Holding out his glass of water, his warm thick fingers brush your’s.

Pushing himself away from the desk. His thick bulge in his black dress pants, “Good girl, thank you for the water.” Squeezing a handful of your soft ass, you softly gasp, glancing over to where Jin stands on the elevator peering with wide eyes through the closing office doors.

Suguru massages your cheek. the toy vibrate on your soft clit. “Don’t cum, not yet.” Standing up, grabbing your jaw, gently prying you mouth open with his thumb. Taking a sip and spitting it into your mouth. “Swallow, but you can’t cum yet.”

Setting the cup down, unbutton your dress shirt. “Please! I don’t know how much longer I cannnn!” Clenching your trembling thighs together, knees buckling, legs weak. You grab onto Suguru’s hard, thick bicep.

Getting off on his massive height, unable to stop thinking of fat cock he has for you underneath his pants. Stroking his cock through his pants. “A little bit longer, you’re so hot squirming, struggling not to cum just to make me happy.” Tugging your skirt down, for you to step out of.

His phone buzzes, whining when Suguru answers, “Nasty pervert, I’ll fuck her against the glass for you to watch.” Putting his phone on speaker on the desk. “She such a slut she will get off on seeing you stroke your cock to her.” Slipping your shirt off, unclasping your bra, he can’t get them off fast enough.

Tears trickle down your face, Suguru wipes away one with his thumb. “Aw my sweet little slut is crying cause she can’t cum yet.” Turning to face the window, grabbing your leg lifting showing Satoru your sloppy wet cunt.

Begging, crying, cunt dripping. “I’m gonna! Please! I can’t hold back! It’s too much.” Grinding your hips back, Suguru’s hard cock pressed against your lower back.

Satoru unzips his pants, dropping them with his underwear, sitting down, squirting lube into his hand. “Fuck she sound hot whining like that.” Suguru turns you to face the window, lifting your legs giving Satoru standing in large window his office a perfect view.

“Cum!” Thick warm cum splashes into the window, trickling onto the ground. Trying to close your legs, shifting trying to get away from the intense stimulation.

Groaning in admiration, gliding two this fingers into you. “Nnn so warm n wet, perfect little cunt for my fat cock to ruin.” Taking the toy off your clit, tugging on the jewel of the butt plugged.

“You’ve been wearing this for two hours let’s give your ass a break. Mm fuck I can’t wait till I can fuck her into a gabbing cum filled mess.” Gliding the plug out of your ass, setting it on his desk.

Suguru crouches, slapping your ass biting your cheek, enticing soft whimpers. Holding onto your hip to steady you. Your head is fuzzy, legs wobbly, you haven’t cummed that hard before. You want more. “Wanna cum again, please sir take care of my needy cunt.” Spreading your legs, and bending over when he dips his head between, lovingly kissing your soft cunt.

Gliding his finger in, getting off on how your soft cunt take his fingers. “You been such a good slut for me, I’ll take such good care of your sweet tight cunt for you. After you can sit in my lap during the meeting. Then we can go home, have a candle lit dinner.” Biting your ass, sucking roughly groaning, pumping his finger faster.

Satoru’s breathy moans coming through the phone. His jerking his cock faster, sliding his hand through his soft white hair, tugging. His mouth dropping open, checks flushing pink. He slows his pace, smirking and winking at you. “You’re such a beautiful dirty whore getting off on watching me jerk off while he plays with your cunt.”

Smiling at Satoru, “I’m a pretty dirty whore who likes it getting fucked in front of you.” Suguru stands up, squeezing your ass, sliding his hand up your waist. Gently playing with your nipple, biting your shoulder. Tilting your head to the side, he trails kisses up

Satoru pleads “Let her press her beautiful slutty ass on the glass. Lemme see your sloppy beautiful cunt and sweet ass.” Looking up at Suguru for his approval, he spins you around on your high heels.

Unbuttoning his shirt, slipping it off. Suguru is beautiful with his thick pecs, sculpted abs, broad shoulders slim waist and fat cock that rests on thick balls. “Let him see what’s gonna be taking good care of my fat cock.” Admiring your sugar daddy, bending over gliding your fingers into your needy cunt.

You want to cum again despite squirting. Suguru and Satoru always bring out an insatiable lust within you. You’d proudly be their cum stuffed whore.

Buzzing the front desk, “Don’t send or allow any calls through until I say otherwise, take a message if it’s urgent thank you.” Pressing your ass to the cold glass, shivering. Playing with your nipples, soft rubbing them, moaning the moment he lets the button go.

Suguru groans, you love the erotic way he sounds. “Nnn fuck send her over when you’re done, I wanna turn. You can put her plug back in. Wanna see her pretty ass stuffed mmm, gonna cover her soft cheeks in cum.” Grabbing Suguru’s cock, when he comes close, kissing his head.

He grabs your hair roughly turning you around, pinning your tits to the glass, keeping your ass out. Lining his fat, veiny cock up, you spread your legs apart pushing your hips back. “If she can walk sure, but you can’t fuck her ass not yet. Im taking her training slow, no reason not to savor perfection.” Spitting on your ass, smearing it with his thumb, gliding it in.

Keeping a firm grasp on your ass, groaning in pure relief. “Nothing else better than being inside you. Nnn making my legs go weak, you’re too perfect.” Grabbing your wrist, holding it behind your back. Offering your other wrist for him to hold together with one large hand.

Oreo’s m.list