Aftershock: Trials of Yandere Bakugou
Tags: @bakusquadimagines @inuyasha330 and thank you @sweetnsinfull and @theehoneybunii for the awesome title!!
Cw: mentions of rape, kidnap, stalking, mindbreak, slightly dark content, mentions of panic attacks
please let me know if I missed any tags!!
word count: 2.3k
DAY 1 of the trial Katsuki Bakugou vs. the state of California
9 a.m.
“Please state your name for the court, miss.”
The lawyer’s drawl made you shift in your seat. You had heard it countless times before over the last few weeks. It seems like his voice always rings in your head during the quietest moments at night, always asking questions, always pulling answers. His voice isn’t nearly as haunting as—
“Miss?” The lawyer asks again. Your head slowly pulls up from between where you tucked it in between your shoulders. Your eyes stay down though, stay locked onto the muted blue tie he told you to focus on when things got too tough. The process had barely even started.
Don’t even remember your own name, princess?
You almost answer the lawyer with princess. It was all you heard for the previous 3 years and seven months and six days, besides dumbass and idiot and shit for brains and bitch and worthless cunt and—
You finally spit out the first name that pops into your head. You hope its your own. You can’t really seem to remember.
It is your name, thankfully. Your lawyer just nods, thanks you, and continues on with his line of questioning. Your age, your date of birth, today’s date, do you know why you’re here, do you remember the man’s name who did this to you, could you identify him today?
You can’t lift your head, but you point successfully to the man. He sits cockily, scowls at your shaking finger, legs spread wide underneath the mahogany table.
You didn’t notice the sharp black suit he wore today. You didn’t lift your head to look at him or greet him when he entered the courts today. You didn’t come bounding up to him, wrap your arms around his neck, kiss him sweetly, just like how he trained you to, today. It feels backwards, everything out of order. The balance you finally found in your life, even if it was with a monster of a man, snatched from you only a mere few weeks ago. The balance that took months and months worth of training and beatings, all thrown out of the window just a mere few weeks ago. The balance that you had become grateful for accepting, realizing that this was your place in the world, only a mere few weeks ago.
(Was it wrong for you to think of missing the stability of always greeting him at the door?)
“Can you name that man for me, miss?” The lawyer asks, his voice delicate. He’s seen how you get whenever you have to call him by his full name. Seen the tears, heard the labored breathing, witnessed the panic attacks. You couldn’t remember it at one point in time. The only names that ever rang through that house were Daddy and his princess.
But today, you remember.
“Katsuki Bakugou.” Your tongue feels like lead in your mouth. You’re too afraid to look up, knowing the disappointed scowl and grit he would be giving you for saying his name. You have scars littering your body just from saying his name.
“Can you recount the first time you guys met?” You knew this question was coming. He had warned you that this question was coming. But it still makes your heart rate pick up, still makes tears sting your eyes, still makes you wring your hands together fruitlessly in your lap. You shake your head.
“You can’t recount, miss?” Your lawyer is pulling teeth. You want to apologize for worrying him and stressing him like this, but Daddy always said to stop apologizing if you didn’t really mean it—
You have to clench your eyes shut and suck in a shaky breath to calm yourself. When your eyes do open, they finally meet your lawyers hard gaze. He’s worried, a crease in his brow. More worried about you than the case, in the moment. You wonder how long he’s going to put up with your antics. Daddy always said that no one else would ever put up with your childish fucking antics except for him—
“I-I can.” Your voice is so hoarse, it tickles your throat to speak. Your lawyer nods enthusiastically, encourages you to keep going. You swallow, dare a peak over to the man that sits there and bores holes into the side of your face. Your lawyer side steps before you two can make eye contact.
“Please inform the court the first time the two of you met, miss.” Your eyes squeeze shut, a sob wanting to make its way up your throat. Everyones eyes are on you. Your parents, who have more worry lines around their eyes and mouths than you remember. Your friends, who clench tissues in their fists the moment you first stepped onto the stand. Your old coworkers, neighbors, old teachers you hadn’t seen in years. The court is full.
But the only gaze you could really feel, was his.
…
That morning, you could already tell that something was off. Your alarm never went off late. Your toaster was always set to the same dial, but for some reason, it was changed today. Your window was cracked open, even though it was 48 degrees outside.
Your apartment just felt…off. Like someone had ransacked the place while you were sleep, but put everything back in place the moment you arose. You were on edge the whole morning, and the moment you stepped out of your shower, you knew for a fact that you weren’t alone.
Laid out on your bed, was a matching orange and black lingerie set you had bought on a whim months ago. You had never worn it, some drunken spending one late night after a bad day at work. So what was it doing, laying all pretty and delicate, in the middle of your bed? You had tucked it away in a box the day you got it, and hadn’t opened the box since. Nobody else knew that you had bought it.
With a shaky breath, your heart rate accelerated as you hurried over to your night table, gasping when you realized your phone was no longer there. You always left it in the same spot.
“You brought that set they day I was ranked the Number One Hero. Even though stupid Deku swept the spot a couple weeks later.” You screamed at the first syllable, whipping around to find the source of the mans voice. He was nothing but a shadow standing behind the door, only half of his body and hair barely visible to the early morning light.
“You brought it fo me, hah? Wanted to celebrate my win?” Anyone could recognize that gruff voice anywhere. Could recognize the familiar growl with every word. Could recognize those blood red eyes that tilted up to take in your towel-covered form.
Pro Hero Dynamight. And by his words, you knew he wasn’t here to save you.
…
“So, what you’re saying is, Mr. Bakugou broke into your apartment?” The lawyer asked, starting to stride a few feet in place, always sure to block you from his line of sight. Before you could peel your dry lips open to speak, someone interrupted you.
“Objection.” The voice instantly made you cower, made you shiver in place, made your heart leap to your ears. It was booming, not a yell or a scream that you were so accustomed to. No, it was commanding. Deep and gravelly, gruff and in charge. Your lawyer’s back straightened at the sound.
“The police reports have stated that there was no evidence of a break-in.” The old you would’ve snapped, yeah, no shit, you climbed into my window and stole my fucking key to make a fucking copy of it, all in the matter of an hour. But the you now, the trained and scared and obedient one, sat shaking and silent, eyes casted low to focus on how much you’ve picked at the skin around your nails.
“Sustained.” The judge answered, short and to the point. You could hear your lawyer huff under his breath before fixing his tie and walking to stand in front of you again. He rests his weight on his hands as he leans on the mahogany wood.
“What happened after he made himself known to you, miss?” Again, you fucking knew this question was coming but fuck—you can’t answer it!
Can’t let your family know that he made you drop your towel in front of him. Can’t let your family know that he made you slip the lace panties up your thighs, slip the bra up your arms and onto your shoulders, turn around and let his snap the straps into place. Can’t let your family know that he pressed his erection against your ass, pushed you onto the bed, grabbed your arms in large hands and manhandled you onto your stomach. Can’t let your family know that he ate you out for what felt like hours, ignored your pleas and cries for him to stop. Can’t let your family know that he laughed at you the moment you screamed when he thrusted the first half of his cock in, how you cried bloody murder before he shoved two fingers down your throat. Can’t let your family know that you came around his cock, made a mess of his length, and continued to do so for almost four years after that.
“Miss?” The lawyer’s voice makes you flinch. He takes a step back, hands raised in the air to show you he’s no harm. You can make out the frowns and sympathetic looks the jury gives you from the left of you. It only makes you curl in on yourself more.
“Do I have to say it?” Your voice is meek, barely a whisper made out by the crowd who listens in. You glance over at the judge, her eyes sad and mouth twisted down as she gives you a single nod. Your lawyer leans in to murmur,
“I know it must be hard to think about, but you have to tell us. We just want to know what happened.” He tries to encourage you to look at him, but it only makes you curl into yourself more. Your eyes brim with tears once again, a sniffle that resonates into the mic.
“He,” you swallow, shaking your head as you will the words to just come out, just slip up through your esophagus.
“He t-touched me.”
“In what way?” You could barely get the words out before your lawyer was greedily pulling for more. You couldn’t see much anymore, too many tears that you refused to let slide down your cheeks clouding your vision. Your bottom lip trembled in embarrassment at having to say it all out loud.
“R-raped me. Made me take o-off my towel a-and then he touched m-my breasts and my,” Fuck, you couldn’t finish the sentence. You just couldn’t! Couldn’t tell anyone that it felt weird and foreign not to refer to your vagina as the “princess parts” he had labeled them. It makes you feel so fucking stupid, nothing but the stupid baby he was told you that you were. Never knowing shit else but what he told you, told you that everyone before him had lied to you. That he was the only one that knew everything that was right, that it wasn’t called a cunt or a pussy but your fucking princess parts and that didn’t even fucking make sense but it had sounded right coming from his mouth, everything sounded right coming from his mouth—
“Please take a deep breath for me. Don’t work yourself up, miss.” You hadn’t realized that you were hyperventilating into the mic until your lawyer laid a soft hand on your shoulder. You whimpered, the pain from a dislocated shoulder never fully healing right after Katsuki shoved you down the steps, after you threw yourself down months later when you found out you were—
“I’m sorry. I won’t touch you again, okay?” You’re nodding before the words fully register. The lawyer stares at you for a moment before turning briefly on his heel to bring you a glass of water. During the silence, you remember the count you would use to even your breathing.
In for four seconds, hold for seven, release for eight. In for four seconds, hold for seven, release for eight. In for four seconds, hold for—
A loud sigh interrupts your concentration. It comes from his side of the room, loud and obnoxious. He always needed your attention. Always needed you to constantly look at him and talk to him and praise him for being such a good hero, such a good daddy, such a good caretaker, and soon, such a great father—
Your eyes cut to his before you can stop yourself. He’s already looking at you. Red eyes slitted and narrowed, staring deep into your soul. Your breath hitches in your throat, and you try to bite back the sob that works its way up just from looking at him so defiantly in the eye. You were never allowed to look him in the eye unless he commanded it, or if you were on your knees in front of him.
He smirks before you break eye contact. Your lawyer is setting down a cup of water in front of you a few seconds later. You hold it, let the condensation make your hands wet and slippery, hyper-focusing on the dew that drips down the sides of the cool glass.
“Now, please tell us the first thing you remember after being taken by Mr. Bakugou.” Your lawyer snaps you out of your daze, that same muted blue tie back in your face. You don’t want to think about it. You don’t want to remember. You don’t want to be here.
(Couldn’t they just leave you alone? Let you go back to the normalcy of being beat? Let you continue fighting him for fresh air, and panicking when you realize he’s not holding your hand anymore? Let you go back to being his housewife, even though the therapist keeps insisting that you weren’t a housewife, but a victim? Can everything just go back to his normal?)
the sexual tension between me & the alternate reality I daydream about
idk bakugou letting his youngest daughter paint his nails every weekend before work and the reporters always ask which nail tech he goes to so he can promote her little nail making business wails.
bakugou taking his oldest daughter to all of her interviews at hero agencies for when she graduates. he spends hours practicing with her until she feels she can answer confidently. talks her down when she panics about not being a good enough hero and tells her “you can always say yer dad is dynamight.” because he knows it’ll get her into any agency she wants.
bakugou who silently sits with his middle daughter in her room when she cries and tells him she doesn’t feel special. being the quirkless one out of her siblings makes her feel weak, unwanted and unloved. he gets on his knees, forehead to hers and hands in his to make sure she feels how much he adores her — quirk or no quirk.
bakugou who falls asleep on the couch with his three girls every Friday after movie night — no one can take that special time away from them. even if he’s exhausted after a long work week, he’ll always make time for his girls.
imagine Katsuki is your baby daddy but he has the body of a zaddy
You hadn’t slept with him since you were eighteen? When you conceived his son…? 5 and some years ago?
You’re older, more level headed but still you can’t help but notice how Katsuki’s lean physic morphed into muscle and scars and has his voice always been this deep? And the way he says your name now, with a hint of affection in his tone… and his eyes are more clear, less angry, and set on you
You find yourself more self conscious of the way your hair falls when it’s his weekend to have Katsuma, you take extra time picking out your outfit and putting on your best lipstick
“Have fun okay?” You smile at how cute Katsuma looks in his bucket hat, his toothless smile wide as Katsuki picks him up for a father-son hiking trip.
“Can i bring home a turtle to keep as my pet?” The little boy asked you, and you just know Katsuki is looking at your cleavage that the new shirt you bought showed off. How could he not?
“Absolutely not,” you don’t skip a beat, laughing at Katsuma’s fake disappointed look. Finally, you get the courage to look at Katsuki and nearly gasp.
Katsuki looks hungry, for you. You know him, or rather you knew what he looked liked when he was horny. The slight red color of his cheeks, his jaw clenching, and his red eyes are pooling in arousal.
You knew deep down you should not sleep with Katsuki. It would mess up everything you and him have tried to work on for katsuma’s sake. Yet, it felt good that you still had it in you to rile up Katsuki.
“Have fun,” you smiled at your boys, and Katsuma leaped onto Katsuki’s back but he didn’t budge.
“Keep your phone on, I don’t want you out in case of emergencies,” Katsuki flared his nose at the idea that some sleeze ball saw you like this, all dolled up and lips red, waiting tentatively at home for him and his son who he gave you… fuck stop Katsuki!
You blushed at his order, and played it off. “Okay, but please be careful.”
You put a lot of trust in Katsuki to take his own son hiking, and even if you were wanting to bone… your baby came first.
“Remember to wear sunscreen and please no running off on your own,” you pass Katsuma’s backpack to Katsuki, and the little boy sighed in annoyance.
“Mom I know,” katsuma squished his cheek against katsuki’s shoulder as he patiently waited to leave.
Katsuki didn’t struggle at all with holding his son on his back with the bag, and he loved how your raw and tender ove for his son showed on your face. Fuck, now that’s sexy, he thought.
“Take this to the car,” Katsuki lightly shook katsuma off his back, handing him the bag. Katsuma ran off, leaving his parents alone with one another.
“I’ll take care of him,” Katsuki promised, and you smiled gratefully.
Yet, you were startled when Katsuki moved closer to you, his head tilting down to whisper in your ear, “and when I get back, I’ll take care of you.”
nagi and isagi taking turns with you !!!?? 👁👁
simply gnawing on your arm anon
i feel like reo dangles you in front of nagi like a treat whenever he plays well. if nagi scores a goal, he gets to touch you, if nagi scores two goals he gets to kiss you — so on, so forth.
on a particularly good day for seishiro, he ends up being the top scorer for the match and mikage is just so proud of his little friend for doing so well — he takes the reward up a notch. makes you dress in black because it’s his treasure’s absolute favourite colour, has you lying back into his chest with his fingers fast on your clit while nagi humps at your slick pussy to his heart’s content.
“nghh, reo, she’s so good. tight. s’not fair, you get to fuck her all the time ‘n she’s still milkin’ me,” it’s impressive how fast you’re able to dismantle a man and make him whine as he fucks your cunt full — reo loves how you’re so helpless under his best friend but so able to ruin him too. “cummin’ again, cum with me, angel.”
when nagi’s done having his go and creaming your insides, reo combs back his hair — scratches at his scalp until he calms down before helping sei roll off of you. “you okay princess, think you can take me now?” he’ll ask but he doesn’t really care whether you say yes or no — because you’ll always be needy for reo, always want him too. besides, reo gets super turned on just watching his best friend has his way with you, and has no problem making sure nagi’s cum sticks too. proudly thrusting it back into you.
muscle kumapan
(Dark content, noncon/dubcon, threats of gun violence)
finally completed the toji fic hope yall like it~
(Yandere, non con, dubcon, breaking/entering, attempted plan to murder, etc, etc)
Living near the countryside has desensitized you to the thumps and crashes you’d hear at night. In the beginning you’d be paranoid, laying in your bed for hours before gathering the courage to step out of the room, trusty bat in hand, only to find a stray cat staring back, right beside an open window. Nowadays, you’re cooly shooing away whatever creature that finds their way in your home. Mostly it’s cats, sometimes you’d get the occasional bird or racoon.
The situation has happened so many times that you aren’t even surprised to hear the soft rattle that comes from your kitchen tonight. You’re already moving, rousing from your soft bed, grabbing your trusty broom ready to scare away whatever creature you’d find scurrying about your kitchen floor. A rat, most likely.
But the thing rustling through your fridge is no rodent, and you don’t recognize this man.
It doesn’t occur to you that you’re being robbed until half a second later. Mainly because of how casual this bizarre situation is. He’s rifling through your food like it’s normal and you’re the weirdo carrying the broom.
“Damn, there’s nothing here. Do you not eat or something?”
You assume he’s thinking out loud, but he glances back at you like he expected you there.
“I-I haven’t gotten the chance to go shopping this week,” You find yourself replying.
He gives a hum, slamming the fridge shut, standing to his full height and you’re instantly aware of how ill-prepared you are to fight him. He’s huge, not just in height. He looks better fit for a bodybuilder than a run-of-the-mill robber.
You left your phone upstairs. Why the fuck did you leave your phone upstairs?
You lower your broom, trying to make yourself seem as little threatening as you can. Your mind is running too fast to conjure any real thoughts, but the part of you that hasn’t completely broken down yet is telling you it’s better to avoid any confrontation. A distraction.
“There’s a TV in the next room,” You numbly point towards the living room, “It’s brand new….would probably go for a thousand.”
He barely seems interested, eyes flicking to glance over before going to you.
“That’s nice,” He waves your offer off, “But I’m not here to steal your stuff.”
“You’re…you’re not?” You reply weakly.
There’s a grin on his face, a touch away from being maniacal. His hand is brushing his hip, lightly playing with the hilt of a gun.
Oh.
Maybe it’s because you’re still half asleep, your brain isn’t working as efficiently, it takes you a bit longer to process his intentions. When it finally does, the realization hits you like a train. Your mouth gets dry, it suddenly feels so cold. Fear. You’ve never felt fear like this before.
You don’t notice the steps you take backward. He does. The man groans in something you can only discern as annoyance.
“Don’t do that,” He frowns, “Come on, I’m trying to be nice here. I can’t chase you around the house, I'm supposed to make it look like an accident.”
His nonchalance is terrifying. Like he’s done this before. He probably has. How many people has he murdered in their own homes? How many bodies does it take to be so calm around imminent death?
You don’t have time to wonder, not when something he said catches your attention.
“Were…were you hired to come here?”
His mouth twitches and it looks like he’s thinking. Finally, he shrugs, like the information he gives won’t really do anything to harm him.
“Yeah, some rich folk in the city. Can’t remember their names for shit though.”
Someone had a vendetta against you? Enough to want to kill you? Your mind is running through every single name, every quarrel you’ve had. Family members, friends, aquantinances. Nothing enough comes up.
Nothing is supposed to. Only crazy people hire hitmen.
And hitmen are even crazier.
You take another step back.
He takes another forward.
You won’t be able to fight him, and trying to run will just piss him off. You know you can’t reason with him. If he’s come this far, if he looks so bored, nothing is going to stop him from actually killing you. Pathetically, you try anyway, if only to lengthen what’s left of your life.
“Please just-”
“Don’t start begging,” He groans, cutting you off, “That’s just annoying.”
“Isn’t there anything else you want,” You desperately say, “Anything? That-that isn’t…”
The hitman shrugs, “I mean, if you wanna’ try to pay me off, you can.”
“How-how much was the…” You can’t bring yourself to say it, but he seems to get your point.
The amount makes your eyes widen. Your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by the man. He sighs, cracking his neck.
“Thought so,” He says, reaching to pull something out of his back, “Sorry, Princess, ‘Nothing against you, promise. Gotta’ pay rent somehow, right?”
“I-I can pay!” You interrupt, “Really! I can pay.”
He pauses, tilting his head. He’s probably thinking you’re pathetic but you don’t give a shit. The money will take a huge chunk out of your savings, but you could pay. You could live.
“With-with interest?”
He grins, “Now you’re speaking my language.”
He leans away, walking towards the counter. You still don’t move. Stiff. He seems to notice.
“Don’t be like that.” He chides, the danger in his voice fades, as though it was never there in the first place, “I’m trying to be civil now, aright? Anyway, let’s talk. How do you want to pay?”
“Whatever way you want,” You say numbly, “But…how-how am I supposed to know you won’t just go back to the person and ask them to ramp up his price?”
You hated how clinical you were talking about your own damn life, but you’re too emotionally exhausted to do anything about it, let alone try to put any sort of emotion behind your words.
“They won’t be able to find me.” A confident grin, that doesn’t make you feel any less uncertain. “Don’t worry about it.”
He cocks his head, studying you for a second.
“You look different from the photos I saw,” He’s saying, not necessarily saying them to you, “They don’t do you justice.”
You don’t say anything, fiddling with your fingers, hoping this creep will just give you his card and leave.
“Toji,” He suddenly says.
Your head snaps up.
“My name,” He says slowly, grinning all the while, “And yours?”
“...You already know,” You reply warily.
“I do. Say it.” This time his voice comes out sharper.
You comply anyway, still too scared to face the man. His relaxed demeanor returns and Toji says your name a few times, like he’s trying it out.
He’s looking around your house now, and you feel like it’s the first time he’s seeing it because it looks like he’s admiring it. Fingers tap on your counter.
“Nice place you got here,” Toji says.
You don’t say anything. He doesn’t really care, not until he gives you a sharp look, calculating.
“Sharin’ it with anyone?”
Oh. Oh. You did not like where this conversation was going.
“...I do,” You’re saying, hoping your voice doesn’t sound as strained as you think it is, “...With my boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend?” Toji repeats, dark eyes flicking back to you in interest, “Where is he?”
“Overseas,”
His grin widens, “So he’ll be gone for a while, right?”
“No, he’s-he’s coming back tonight-”
“Hm, but you just said he was overseas?” You hate his smile, how cocky he looks, but it’s washed away by the dread of him slowly sauntering up to you.
Unconsciously, you press yourself against the wall, hoping it can suck you in, and you can hide forever.
Toji reaches you before that can happen.
His touch is light, not gentle, but in the way that you can sense he isn’t really interested in touching you. Rather he’s just moving his hands unintentionally, around your face, your lips.
“You’re real cute, anyone tell you that lately?” His voice dropped, losing the lightness of his tone. You don’t realize he wants an answer until he presses on your jaw. It hurts.
“No…” You mumble.
Toji tilts his head, looking oddly satisfied with your obedience. You wondered if you should fight him off, if you should at least try. At the very most, your pride would still be intact. You could say you went down screaming.
“No boyfriend, huh,” Toji tsks, “You must be very lonely, in this big, empty house. Like an isolated housewife” His voice is low, and patronizing, and you feel like you’re being mocked but you can handle that. Tolerate it.
But you can see the change in his eyes. The interest. Once again, you weakly open your mouth.
“The money-”
“Later,” Toji says huskily, “It can wait.”
His lips are soft, but uncared for. You can feel the roughness of them as he glides them across yours. You think he’s thinking about holding back, being gentle, but it quickly disappears along with the lack of control. He’s rough, practically pressing you against the wall. You can feel his chest against yours. His shirt’s thin, it’d be no different if he didn’t have it on, but you think you prefer this. The barrier, no matter how papery it was.
He’s aggressive now, using his teeth, biting your lips until they’re raw, irritated. His hands are losing the domesticity, running fingers up and down your body. You fought back once, just once, with a tight grip on his even stronger wrist, nails digging into skin, hoping it’ll hurt. There was an irritated growl, and you hear the metal click of something being set off. After that, you let him have his fill.
When he pulls away, there’s a delirious look in his eyes. He’s panting, out of breath, excited. You’re panting too. You’re trembling. He doesn’t notice, more likely, he doesn’t care.
He’s sucking on your neck like a man in need. Wanton. His teeth are sharp, and you flinch when he bites down, just enough to leave a bruise.
“You’re pretty nonchalant about this, huh?” Toji casually asks, like he wasn’t making you dig your back against the wall. It’s a rhetorical question, at least you think it is. You find yourself answering anyway. To distract yourself.
“I don’t want you to hurt me.”
You wonder if you’re being too honest, but he’s laughing against your neck. Amused.
“Smart girl,” He breathes in your ear.
“If-if I do this with you,” You start, gaining his attention, “Will you leave?”
You can’t delude yourself anymore. You know what he wants, but this can’t be for nothing. It can’t. He has to promise that he’ll go. He can take his damn money and go. You can pick the pieces you sold later, when he’s out of your life, out of your house.
He smiles. You can feel it.
“Yes,” He finally says, “I’ll go.”
You both know his lying. You will yourself to believe it anyway.
His hands crawl underneath your shirt, exploring and reaching at everything he could possibly reach. You aren’t wearing a bra. He hums his approval in your ear. His hands are cold as they glide over your body, making you twitch when he reaches your tits. He gives a rough squeeze. You yelp.
“My bad,” Toji slurred. He’s not apologetic, but his movements are less erratic now.
You’re complying. At least, you think you are, with your stiff body, not pushing, not fighting. But something breaks when he’s manhandling you like this. Maybe it’s your pride, dignity, maybe both.
It doesn’t matter, not when the end result is still the tears dripping down your cheeks, stinging your skin.
He pulls away when you shudder out a sob, observing you. You wonder if he’s disgusted, maybe your tears discouraged him.
Your hopes dissipate when something hard presses against your thigh.
“Fuck, I’m a terrible person,” He’s laughing, like this is a shared joke between you and him. Like this is funny, “That shouldn’t have turned me on.”
It’s not funny, but you don’t dare say anything.
You want to feel relief when he’s bored of your shirt, tugging it down, but it’s quickly replaced by even more dread when he’s moving to your shorts. Your bottoms might as well have been made from paper, with how easily he rips them off. He lets out a happy sigh when he sees you aren’t wearing underwear. You just fester in your humiliation.
“Aw, don’t be like that,” He coos when you stiffly look away, “I’ll play nice, princess. Be soft and sweet.”
You should be grateful that he lets you hide in his chest as he traces light circles on your heat. You’re already wet. Humiliation is throttling.
He doesn’t lie. He’s gentle, at the very least. He thumbs your clit with a slow rhythm, constrained. It makes your hips bump into him. He laughs again. Every time you think about fighting him off, you think about the gun in his hands. You think about a bullet in your head. Your blood soaking the tile floor.
So you close your eyes and you let him, but you tell yourself that you won’t give in.
You fail at that too.
It’s the hushed gasp that causes him to really pay attention. He pauses.
“Ya’ like that, Princess?” As if to underline his question, thumbs your clit a bit more intently. It’s a lot harder to stifle your noises now that he’s trying to make you loud.
You hate it. You hate him. You hate how good he makes you feel. It’s a never-ending high, getting you closer but never close enough.
His fingers suddenly retreat, and whatever he builds up leaves with him. You sigh.
“Can’t let you have all the fun, can we?” Toji sneers at your perceived disappointment.
If it were anyone else you would have glared, but today, you timidly look away, just when he starts to unbuckle his pants. He seems to respect his clothes a bit more than yours. You don’t hear the rough sound of fabric tearing, just as he taps your cheek.
“Deep breaths okay, Princess?”
His statement makes you want to laugh. It almost sounds like he cared about you. Still, you unwillingly take his advice, just as something hot and thick lines up at your entrance. Your eyes widen, momentary panic makes you forget about the gun.
“No-no please don’t-!”
He harshly covers your mouth, just as he pushes himself inside. You give a muffled whine. He just gives a breathy hiss.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” He groans, as you choke on a scream. He has the graciousness to let you adjust to him. He rocks back and forth, letting his cock rub against your walls.
“So fucking good. Goddamn,” He huffs out a laugh, “Can’t believe that ‘boyfriend’ of yours gets this sweet pussy every night.”
You sob at his filthy praise, and yet, your body reacts. Your cunt clamps onto him like a vice as he stretches you out. Right to the hilt.
He starts moving eventually. Slow and steady, as he presses you into the wall. His hands find your tits again, roughly palming them as your squeaks of discomfort turn to unwilling moans. You find yourself growing even wetter, much to your dismay.
He seems to sense that too. His lecherous grin grows even wider. The scar tugs on his lips.
“Aw, you do like me.” He teases.
You glare at him. In turn, Toji slams his cock back into your battered cunt, extinguishing your look of disdain. You whine into his hand. He hums.
“Too much, baby? Or not enough?” He’s so fucking delusional. Why is he acting like you enjoy this? This is a special kind of hell, one concocted just for you. Where he is your jailer.
But he’s right. It’s not enough. It’s not enough because you’re stuck in that limbo yet again, but it’s okay because you’d rather die than fall apart by his hands.
He picks up the pace. You gasp, unused to the roughness of his touch. You still hold yourself back, telling yourself it’s not enough, it’s not enough. Your spine arches, despite the way you try to control your body, forcing yourself not to react.
It doesn’t work. It’s a laughable attempt at some type of control. He makes it worse by reaching down to thumb your puffy clit.
You don’t last much longer after that. Your orgasm breaks you, shattering you on the floor as you let out the loudest scream. It’s almost painful. You can feel it rupture through your bones, your skin. Toji doesn’t have the decency even to let up, fucking you through it, carrying you from one high to the next peak.
He crushes himself into you as he cums, grunting in your ear. You can feel the implosion inside of you, painting your insides white with him. The sudden warmth draws another reluctant whine out of your lips.
You’d stop supporting your own wieght a while ago, with only him to keep you upright. No longer interested in holding up your weight, Toji lets you sink to the ground with jelly legs. His cock slips out of you, wet and dripping. Content, he tucks it back into his pants.
The power imbalance is more apparent than ever. Dazed, you can admit to yourself that he’s pretty. Rugged, pieces of himself that he clearly put back together. His smile is nefarious as he gazes at you. His smile is gone, but there’s a satisfied look in his eyes. A tiger that’s sated but not yet full. You avert your gaze, feeling your tears well up again.
“Think you can get up?”
“No,” You honestly reply.
He laughs, leaning down to pick you up, assembling the pieces of you in his arms. He’s so gentle; for some reason, it makes it worse. Out of sheer exhaustion, you allow your head to rest against his broad chest.
The fan in your room is still spinning as he carries you toward your bed. You feel his hands leave your back as you drop on the soft pillows. You don’t know what you’re expecting, but he follows suit, shuffling under the covers after you.
You shift, turning on your side, hoping he won’t force you to cuddle with him. Surprisingly, he relents, moving his attention to something nestled in the covers. Your phone is taken from its resting spot, and placed somewhere behind him.
“That’s my-”
“I know. I’m gonna keep this just in case you get cold feet and do something neither of us will appreciate.”
“I won’t.” You whisper.
He hums, draping a large arm around your body, drawing you into his chest. The stilted conversation dulls and you’re forced to feel his breathing tickle your neck. You’re unnerved by how domestic this feels, how naturally Toji is able to crawl into your home, into your bed.
Despite your quickened heartbeat, you try your best to shut your eyes. You pray he’ll be gone in the morning.
The tightening of his arm tells you he won’t go away so easily.
“I just thought of something else I can use you for.” You can feel his grin on your neck.
“Keep your money.”
Eat local. Put your girl on the counter
𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬, 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 | toji fushiguro
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Your ex-husband bringing the kids over for trick-or-treating is one thing; him wanting to spend the night at your place is another. But it's just for the night. There's no way one night can rekindle some old feelings...right?
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: ex-husband! Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - the reader is around their mid-30s - Tsumiki (age 11) and Megumi (age 10) - mutual pining - kissing/makeout sessions - unprotected sex - Daddy kink - breast sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - spooning + mating press - cervix fucking - breeding kink - praise - clitoral play (pressing and grinding) - pet names (baby, good girl, mama, princess, sweetie, sweet thing) - you and Toji have been divorced for five years - cameos: Gojo, Utahime and Mei Mei - mention of drool/spit and tears - humor bc I'm [not] funny.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.6k (....dawg.)
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: happy Halloween, everyone!! so, randomly missed writing ex-husband! toji bc it's lowkey my favorite, soooo yeah, this is what we're doing to celebrate the end of the month! anywho, happy October, beautiful ppl, and tysm for reading my works!! Alsooo, ty for 2.8k!!!
“Trick-or-treat!!”
“Gasp—Oh my goodness!”
“We came to celebrate Halloween! Also, Megumi forgot his toothbrush here again.”
Opening your door to children at the sunset of Halloween day isn’t out of the ordinary or anything special. However, it’s always a pleasant surprise when it’s two kids you hold dear to your heart. You greet them with a hug, two siblings you know too well to say you’re acquainted with. If anything, you’re practically family.
The raven-haired brother, referred to as Megumi, speaks up. “It’s not my fault! Dad was rushing me last time.”
“Because you had to bring your stuffed animals last time, holding us back for your baseball practice.” Tsumiki, the older sister, snapped back. The two argue amongst themselves in front of you as you try to mediate. It’s no avail until another voice comes to the fray.
“All right, chill out, you two.” The voice belonged to the person approaching the porch stairs, your eyesight capturing the familiar figure walking up with two duffle bags. The one standing tall before you was the father of the children, Toji Fushiguro. Who’s also known as your one and only former husband. “Get inside and finish y’r homework, or else we’re goin’ back home.”
The siblings stop bickering and head inside, taking off their shoes at the foyer and walking upstairs. Now that they’re gone, you turn to the man with the jet-black hair, his viridian orbs focused on you. The weather was chilly, so the man wore his usual dark denim jacket over his plain black sweatshirt, matching his jeans. “You look good, big guy. What’s in the bags?”
He greets you with a curled lip, and the scar on the side of his lip lifts. “Picked them up from their after-school sports, so it’s their sports gear and costumes for tonight. Mind helpin’ me here?”
“Hmmm,” you merge your facial expressions to that of faux pondering, turning your back to Toji. “Nah, can’t. Got dinner to finish making.”
“Hmph, should’ve known.” He makes his way through between you and the front door. “Wouldn’t wanna break your pretty nails carrying heavy shit, huh, princess?”
You glare at him using the nickname, hating his patronizing gaze. “From what I remembered, you would never let me carry the heavy stuff because you thought I was too fragile and easy to break. So how about that, Mr. Knight in Shining Armor?”
“Really? I don’t remember sayin’ all that before. You must’ve put me in a spell.”
“Probably, I’ve been told I’m quite cute~.”
“Mmm, nah, more like an old hag of a witch.” Toji barks a laugh at your offended reaction, and he immediately ducks and heads for the stairs when you throw a sandal at him.
“At the very least, say I’m a cute witch, fucker.” You say the final word under your breath, grabbing the sandal you threw and heading back to the kitchen.
To say you and Toji were acquainted with one another would be the biggest understatement of the century. The two of you met a decade ago, fell madly in love, and married within a year of the relationship. When you tied the knot, Tsumiki had to have been two years old, and Megumi just turned one year old. You two had been together for four years after that, and you could confidently say those were one of [if not THE] best years of your life. You often second-guessed yourself being in a relationship with someone who had children, fearing that they wouldn’t like you or ignore you.
However, those worries were blown right away as the days went by. Every time you spent time with the children brought you three closer than ever; it was to the point that they saw you as their mother. How sweet! And there’s no denying that Toji loved you. The man would break someone’s nose for you — yes, it happened before, and it wasn’t pretty — for you were his sweet little thing that kept him going.
Well, if it was so great, why the divorce? Let’s say you weren’t Toji’s first love. That title would have to be awarded to the one Megumi’s mother. Even in her unfortunate passing, you can tell that Toji loved that woman like no other. It didn’t make you jealous or anything, seeing the man you love still mourn for a dead woman. Hell, you’d probably do the same if you were him. But, you can’t lie; it felt like you were cast over a “shadow” when it came to her influence. It was damn near suffocating to bear, especially in those four years of marriage. So, for your sake and his aching heart, you pulled him aside and suggested a divorce. And Toji didn’t fight you on the proposition, signing the papers and setting you free from the thick air.
Although things ended between you two, that didn’t mean things stopped being what they were. If anything, it was as if nothing happened at all. Even if you still don’t live under the same roof, you still make time to hang with the Fushiguros, whether invited to some occasion or exchange phone calls or texts to check up on them. Even now, five years after your separation, it warms your heart knowing that you get to interact with the people you care about.
There are moments you find yourself missing living under the same roof with all three of them and living alone can be pretty lonely. But all in all, as long as they’re comfortable and trust you enough to be around, there’s no need to change things up again. Like right now — the four of you sit at the dinner table eating before the kids go off trick-or-treating.
“Are you going to trick-or-treat with us, Y/n?” The brown-haired child sitting next to you asks while finishing up her dinner.
“Sorry, not this time, gotta be at a Zoom meeting for my job in a few minutes. But I do have someone else to take my place. Gojo will be here at around—Why are you two making that face?” You stop mid-sentence to notice Megumi and Toji at the other side of the table, displaying disgusted facial expressions at the mention of the white-haired other’s name.
“Why him?” They said in unison.
“Why not??” You question their irritation.
“He’s so annoying…” Again, in unison. Proof enough that they’re father and son.
You sigh as you get up to take your plate to the sink. “Oh, come on, you two, it’s not like he’ll be with you guys the entire night. He has a party at a friend’s he’s going to later.”
“Isn’t he too old to trick-or-treat?” Tsumiki questions, noting that Gojo is way past his undergraduate years.
“He is, but whatever gets that prick any free sweets,” Toji answers his daughter before getting up to put his dish in the sink.
You exit the kitchen, head into the living room, and sit on the couch. The laptop you had placed there was ready to open and unlock, and you clicked on applications and windows to look through before your meeting started in the next three to two minutes. He should be here about—
DING-DONG!!
Now.
Right on cue, you motion for Toji to grab the front door, and he follows your command. “Kids, Gojo’s here!” You shout out to the two kids who still sit at the table. “When you’re done eating, you can go upstairs and put your costumes on. But whoever finishes last has to do the dishes.” You can hear commotion from the table as the brunette rushes to put her dish in the sink and dash for the stairs. Megumi groans to himself; you giggle when you hear him mutter an “Aww man…”
You pull out your headphones to connect to your laptop, put them in their respective ears, and prepare yourself for the meeting. Ignoring the faint passive-aggressive tones of your ex-husband when greeting Gojo at the door…
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Your eyes flutter open, noticing the lighting change around the living room. The orange sunlight no longer decorated the space, substituted with the gradual darkness that overtakes you. The only source of light you can figure out is the flashing from the television screen.
Aside from the TV, there are no other signs of life. There aren’t any signs of Tsumiki or Megumi around playing or causing a raucous. It could only mean the two are still trick-or-treating with Gojo and Nanami.
One blink, two blinks. I must’ve fallen asleep after the meeting… You hum while sinking to the couch, burying your face into the pillow.
But…since when did your pillow act like it was breathing with a heartbeat? And…I smelt that cologne before…How?
“Ya awake now?”
You raise your head, realizing you are not lying on your couch. Technically, you were; however, you were lying on something else on the furniture with you – more like someone.
It’s then you realize that you were lying on Toji during your entire slumber, him leaning on the end of the couch, one leg spread to make room for you to sleep on him while you sit on the other. And you can guess that you had your head on his chest, snuggling up to his warm figure. He looks at you with his green eyes now darkened by the room, yet you can see their glow from the television light. And that small smile he gives you, the scar on the right side of his lip lifted upward. The familiar butterflies in your stomach flutter like before. Like old times sake…That must be embarrassing, huh?
You frantically try to get off of him, “Sorry about that, I thought—“
“No, no,” Toji places a stern hand on your back, keeping you from moving further. “You were comfortable.”
You stare at him for a few seconds until your face contours to a look, and a smile starts to creep up while you situate yourself back to your original position, pressing your face back on his chest to listen to the beats of his heart again. “I recall having this couch all to myself not too long ago, so where’d you come from?”
“Well, I wanted to watch some sports highlights, but I figured you’d kick my ass if I pulled you off and had you sleep on the floor instead.” With the click of your tongue, he chortles. You bet your ass I would. “So, I decided to have ya sleep on me while I watch TV.”
“What’s wrong with the other side of the couch? It’s quite vacant and enough for a big guy like you.”
“True,” his hand rubs circles on your back, an old habit he did when he used to have you like this. “But then I’d be lonely.”
You titter. “That’s big for someone who said he thrives on being alone.”
“I thrive being alone when I’m working.” You’re glad he can’t see your eyes roll; he’d probably grab you by the cheeks like a child. “Besides, why would I wanna be alone when I have you for myself.”
And there it is, your cheeks begin to warm up. Or was it because you’re so close to him that his heat is transferring to you? That’s probably it, yeah. Let’s change the subject…”How long was I out for? I remember the kids left around 7:30-ish.”
“Mmm, it’s going to eleven right now.”
Three and a half hours? Damn. “It’s past their bedtime.”
Toji scoffs. The abrupt motion of his chest rising is satisfying in a way that makes you even more comfortable. “You still think they’re gonna sleep with all that sweet shit they got?” He snickers some more as you shake your head.
“They know better. When you guys get home, be sure to put their candy bags on the top shelf of the closet for the morning.”
“Still traumatized from that one time?”
“Uhhh, yes??” The memory flashes to you for a quick moment, but the dread from before still haunts you. Megumi was six years old and Tsumiki seven, returning home from trick-or-treating and immediately tasting their labor from that night. However, what you didn’t expect was for them both to eat almost half their bags. Let’s just say, thanks to their sugar rushes, they didn’t drop dead until the hour hand touched two of the morning. “Unless it’s the weekend, never again.”
The way the older man chuckles is so therapeutic — it nearly makes you want to fall asleep again. “You weren’t the one chasin' Megumi all over the place tryin' to get him to sleep. Little squirt gets his speed from me.”
“Awww, poor you~” You can sense the glare as you respond in a condescending, sing-song tune. “You and him are always butting heads. Like father, like son.”
“Tch, hate that sayin’ so fuckin’ much.”
“Why? ‘Because it’s true?”
“Shut up.” The hand he used to rest his head comes down to pinch your nose. You wriggle out of his hold with giggles, but he happily keeps you grounded to him with his stronghold and a leg wrapped around to prevent yours from moving. “He only listens to you. Such a sweet lil’ baby to you, huh? Puttin’ my own son against me.”
More giggles prompt out of tiny guilt, and you bring up a hand to rub on his chest. “He’s such a bright boy now. Growing up so big and fast.”
“Miki, too. That girl is way too smart fr' me to catch up. And she’s becoming so kind and strong, crazy to think she made me play teacups when she could barely go down the stairs by herself.” Toji hums, the vibrations felt on the pads of your fingers. “Think she gets that from you.”
You shook your head. “They’re your babies. They do amazing things because they have a big guy like you to catch them if they ever fall.”
“Hmm, fair…But let’s not pretend I’m the best dad in the world. Fuck, never in my life did I think I’d be a dad, especially with two kids. I didn’t know shit back then — still! I still don’t know shit.” You don’t say anything, just listening to him voice his thoughts to you. Because he knows you’d listen – you always do. “If you weren’t there for them, I don’t think they’d be shining like this. Y’re definitely the thing that brought us up together. They look up to you so much. Ya did so well with them.”
Nodding aimlessly, his black sweatshirt grazing on your cheek. “Thank you. Same to you. Didn’t do so bad yourself, big guy.”
“Mmm.”
Nothing is said between you two after that. The only thing that makes noise is the voices coming from the television. The volume lowered, an initiative you could guess from Toji wanting you to get some rest. The silence was too awkward that it might torture some, but it was fine where it was. There was no need to change it, especially when you were comfortable in each other’s embrace.
That is, until Toji asks, “Do you miss it?” The rubs on your back go slower, his fingertips drawing a ticklish sensation.
“Of course I do. All the time.” You answer honestly, turning your head to rest your chin on him. Your eyes glimpse directly at his, giving him a tiny grin. “Why ask? I know the kids miss me being around; what about you? Miss me nagging and putting you to work all the time?”
He sneers at your comment. “Every day.”
It was such a simple answer, yet it had the power to wipe that smirk right off your face. Your eyes locked in his sight, and your heart tuning to an irregular rhythm. Oh, come on, Y/n, get a grip! “Ahem—Toji, I hope you know that I never stopped missing everything we had — I never will. Those years that we shared were probably the best I’ve had. We had happy moments, others sad, of course. But, God, do I miss it all. I miss it so much. I miss having you guys here. Miki and Gumi and—“
“Me?” Good Lord, if this man doesn’t stop looking at you with those goddamn eyes of his, such captivating orbs that say more than he lets on. Your breath hitches, and so does the hand on your back. “Hmm? Ya miss me, baby?”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. Why’d you have to call me that? And it gets worse when he places his free hand on your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin while the forefinger teases the lobe and tragus of your ear. Goddammnit…
“...Yes,” your voice was down a whisper, which could easily be mistaken with the television. But you know Toji heard you, loud and clear. “Especially you, Toji.” You said it. The words that he wanted to hear from you. They felt so forbidden to say, yet it was the truth. You avert your gaze away from him. But you knew that wouldn’t work, not right now. Toji taps your cheek with his thumb, and your eyes sheepishly return to his.
He doesn’t say anything, and that makes your heart beat at an unbearable rate. It’s all you can hear when you stare into his deep emerald eyes, the sound of it ringing your eardrums as if you could puke. Your throat running dry, so you gulp to ease the uncomfortable bob. If something could just happen to end this anxious torture, that would be great.
And then your prayers get answered: something does happen. Toji slowly brings his face closer to yours — your body goes rigid, and you instantly face away before the inevitable happens. No, I didn’t mean that!
“Aht aht, don’t do that, baby.” His hand slithers from your cheek to your chin, forcing you to face straight at him. “Lemme see you.”
“Toji, wait,” your voice travels out in a shaky breath. “We shouldn’t be doing this. We can’t cross this line anymore.”
He listens to your pleas, but his body does otherwise. Placing a gentle kiss on your forehead while the hand on your back snakes downward. “Why not?” His gruff voice dialed down to a whisper.
“Because—Mmmm…” Toji interrupts you by licking the helix of your ear. Oh, you slick bastard. “We’re supposed to be done…”
“That’s not stoppin’ me from takin’ care of my sweet thing.” Jesus Christ, you almost melted from the way he whispered that to your ear. He’s pulling out all the same old tricks, and it gets more hellish by the second as you try not to give in. “So, y're gonna let me take care of you like I always do, right, mama?”
Both his hands now rest on your ass, groping it while your hips sway as if they have a mind of their own. The leg between yours comes up slightly, making you ride on it. The heat on your cheeks has already blossomed to your ears, making it hard to think straight. Gripping his sweatshirt, your hips ride his thigh to ease the throbbing sensation that grows with every motion. Good God, you shouldn’t be doing this. You know you shouldn’t be doing this. However, it’s been so long that you felt wanted like this — wanted by him. It’s all the same – his voice, his hands, his words, his body, and the names he calls – yet here you are turning into putty.
“Haaahh, Mmmfff…Toji, please,” Toji withdraws his face from your shoulder, leaving him to examine your expression. You must look so dumb right now, with your hooded eyes and shivering lips. But, at this point, do you even care? “Please…Treat me right.”
One moment, you see his gaze narrow with a devious glint. Next, you’re taken aback when Toji slams his lips on yours, kissing and sucking your bottom lip until you give him access. With a moan, you open your mouth for him and sink deeper into the kiss. Your hands come around his neck, keeping him focused on you and you alone. Not that he would have it any other way.
His strong hands continue to knead your asscheeks while you hump and grind on his thigh. Nibbling on your lip, you whimper helplessly for him. It strokes his ego, knowing he’s making you like this, the fucking bastard. He takes in your tiny cries happily, shoving his tongue to play with yours. You give in to him, almost losing your balance riding his thigh, yet Toji’s lips never leave yours.
You break the kiss to get an imperative breath, panting loudly and sweetly for him as Toji kisses and licks your ear. The sounds make your lower region twitch. “Hnnmm, fuck…That’s my girl. So fuckin’ good fr’ me always, Y/n…” You can feel him slide a hand up to the hem of your leggings, forcing it inside for his thick fingers to brush up on the bare flesh of your butt. You gasp sharply. Him squeezing your butt has you biting down on his sweatshirt. “—Hahhh, Oh God, Toji,” With every squeeze, he inches closer to your panty-covered chasm, where you know he’d find a damp spot. Please touch me. Please, please, plea—
CLACK-CLINK!!
The two of you are frozen stiff when you hear the sound of the door opening and closing, the foyer lights turned on. “Alright~, we got you guys home. See ya later!” That was Gojo’s voice, indicating everyone was finally back from trick-or-treating. This means that Tsumiki and Megumi are about to see you on top of their father, his hand in your leggings and smacking lips with yours. Your eyes shoot wide with horror — immediately remove yourself from Toji and stand up from the couch to pull your bottoms up. You barely had the chance to peek at Toji because the kids already run to the living room to find you two.
“Y/n, Y/n, look!” The brunette was the first to greet you with her adorable pink Barbie cowgirl costume. She and her brother, dressed as Sasuke Uchiha, cheerfully showcased their pillowcases full of candy. “Look at all this candy we got!”
“Wooow, you guys really went on a haul,” you can only hope they can’t see you sweating bullets through your fake reaction. “Wh–Where’s Gojo?”
“He dropped us off here a few seconds ago and left for the party,” The raven-haired boy answered while scanning his pillowcase.
You only nod along until you frantically wipe your mouth, realizing the tiny trail of spit from the corner of your mouth. “Umm—Ahem, well then, I’m glad you two got all that candy. Now, let’s hurry up and get you guys home so you can get ready for school tomorrow!”
But the children didn’t move an inch. Actually, they looked like they were going to tell you something. You lift a brow. Oh no, they’re going to look at each other. They looked at each other and then glanced back at you. Oh, God, no. “Uhhh, Y/n, we were thinking.” Big sister Tsumiki is always the one who asks the following question. “Can we stay over?”
You inhale a massive breath, yet you do your best not to exhale a heavy sigh. “Kids, you promised to keep the overnight stays to three at max per month. This will be the fifth!”
“Yeah, but it’s dark out. Plus, it’s way past our bedtime.” The younger chimes in with a tiny pout. “We’ll be asleep by the time Dad gets us home.”
And here comes Tsumiki with the tag-team response to add on. “And that means he’ll have to make continuous trips back and forth from the car. Picking me and Megumi up, getting our bookbags, the bags full of candy, the whole thing! We already packed up our PJs just in case.”
You stood there staring at the two in astonishment. There’s no way they thoroughly planned this out. There’s just no way… And to make it worse, they were making valid arguments. You open your mouth to say something, but the two give the best puppy eyes they can. The wave of guilt hits like a train, internally cringing. You turn to Toji, who still sits on the couch, and the motherfucker only gives you a shrug. Wow, what a helpful father he is.
You groan into your hands, shaking your head while looking at the kids who wait for your verdict. “…Alright, you can stay as long as you PROMISE to put those candy bags in my bedroom closet. Deal?” The happy smiles and aggressive head shakes should answer your question. “Good, now go ahead and take your showers before you head for bed.” They rushed to the stairs by the time you finished that sentence, so enthusiastic about staying the night at your house, and you can’t help but smile hearing their footsteps run up the stairs.
With that being said, you turn to the older man again. Your brows are trenched down, but your smile is still present. “So, you legit just sat there and let those two tag-team me like that? In my own house?”
Another shrug with a dumb smirk on his handsome face. “Told you: too smart fr’ me to catch up.” You shake your head before exiting to get the kids and guest rooms ready, leaving him with the television.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The midnight hour has finally danced its way into the darkness of the night. Halloween is finally over, and the month of October is no more. The pitter-patter sound of the rain cleanses the neighborhood of its merits and festivities that partook hours ago, ready for a new phase of the year to take over.
After having the guest room ready with sheets and sleepwear for Toji and kissing the kids goodnight, you rinse your stress off with a nice shower and put on your pajamas to get ready for bed. After you turn the lights off, you drape the comforter over your figure as your body sinks with the cozy sheets and pillowcase. Your eyes close while focusing on the curtains of your window, the only light piercing inside being the lampposts by the street.
…Well, at least that’s what’s supposed to happen. But that’s not the case because you’re not the only one lying comfortably on your mattress. Instead, Toji is here with you, in your room, on your bed, his chest to your back, and his hand roaming inside your oversized shirt. Your lips are now connected with his, sharing your erotic moans with his enticing groans, and you get a little louder as his fingers cup and play with your breast.
“Mmphh…Ahhhh, I thought I told you you’re sleeping in the guest room—Nmmff!” He tweezes your nipple with his forefinger and thumb roughly.
“And I thought you’d be smart enough to know that wasn’t gonna happen.” Toji kisses the crook of your neck, drawing near your ear for him to whisper. “Besides, look at you. Still sleepin’ with no underwear on?”
“Hmph, only when I have a man around the house.” That answer got you another rough tweak on your nip and a purposeful gnaw to your ear. You knew he’d react like that, never liking the mention of another man leaving your mouth – especially during an intimate time like this.
“That so? What man you know that can handle all this?” Toji then moves from his side to be between your legs, pulling up your shirt to fully expose your chest. And your breathe hitches while his free hand travels down your abdomen to your
“Ahhhh, no one. Just you...” You look at him with half-lidded eyes, taking in his reaction to what you said. The salacious grin on his face becoming broader should entail that he greatly loved that retort.
He brings his face to your other unattended nipple, “Good answer, princess.” The nub of your breast enters his mouth, and the wet warmth of his tongue greets it with lapped motions and grazes from his teeth. Despite that, it doesn’t distract you from the fact your bottoms are pulled down with ease and are thrown to the bedroom floor, leaving your cunt out for him, your erotic fluids seeping and glistening from the outside lights.
Toji plays with your folds until he can stuff his pointer finger into your chasm, the insertion resulting in your body’s jolt. It’s been a long while since you had his thick digit inside you, playing and scraping the inner walls to evoke whimpers. God, it felt so good, this satisfying feeling returning to awaken your body to his touch. He interacts with your body as if he’s the only person who knows how to get you going – and it’s the truth. No one can put you in a blissful haze quicker than this man. And you’d prefer to keep it that way.
The addition of his middle finger into your leaky entrance startles you, the thick digit making its way in with such vigor that he uses both fingers to scrape the velvety texture of your walls. Your eyes are now screwed shut at the growing commotion between your thighs, and the heat within your body flourishing all around gets to your head. “—Khmm, Oh fuuck, Toji. Please, don’t stop.”
With a soft ‘pop’ noise from his lips, Toji replies to your demands. “I’m sorry, what’s my name again?” You giggle with trenched brows. Of course, how could I forget?
“Nmmph, D-Daddy, pleaseee, I’m so clo—Ahhhann!!” He puts his thumb to your clit, grinding down on it unexpectedly. “I wanna cum, pleaseee…”
“Hmmm, good girl,” he teased, laying down kisses, nibbling on the skin of your stomach and inner thighs until he arrives at your leaking slit. Your body jerks up from the bed when you feel the cold, wet muscle slowly lick on your clitoris before ravaging your folds. The sounds of his mouth on your cunt are so lewd to the ear, slurping noises from his lips with the lapping motions of his tongue claiming your come are too much for you. And when he uses his hand to swipe and pinch your clit? Oh, it’s a wrap. Your release comes out without control, biting down on your bottom lip to make sure your cries don’t leave this space for the kids to hear. Their room is on the other side down the hall; tonight isn’t the night for too many risks.
When your trembling body calms down and subsides, Toji withdraws his face from between your thighs. Your essence paints his mouth, and he wipes his chin clean while licking the remnants that coat his scarred lips. “Hmph, missed tastin’ you like that.” You open your eyes when your high finally evades you, watching your ex-husband pull down his sweats. His erection springs out and hits his stomach, your mind going rampant with thoughts as you ogle at his freed limb. Shit, it’s been so long. Will that shit even fit me again?
“Don’t think it’ll fit, baby?” Damn him, he loves teasing you. Toji then discards his black wife-beater, at long last revealing his well-built, brawny physique that has you drooling for him. He uses his hands to maneuver your legs—your knees pushed to your chest as your legs propped up on his shoulders. A position you’re all too familiar with. Your eyes don’t leave Toji’s cock as he aligns his cock to your slick-coated folds. “Take some breaths fr’ me, sweetie. Can’t take care of you when you’re all tense.”
You take up on his advice and begin taking deep breaths, reminding yourself to maintain the steady pattern as he pushes the tip of his dick between the lips of your cunt. Every inhale is where he nudges into the hole of your inner cavern, and every exhale gives you time to breathe out the pain that comes in for a split second. This carries on until the cockhead wedges itself perfectly into your vagina, along with the inches of his girth that stretches until the base kisses your lips, the tip of him kissing your cervix. Tears swell up in your eyes, taking more deep breaths to prepare yourself for what’s about to come.
“Oooh fuuuck…Heh, yeah, that’s my baby right there. Fittin’ so perfect fr’ me, mama…” He puts his weight on you, keeping your figure unmoving under his bow.
“Nmmmf, Daddyyy,” you’re forced to take in all of him, and drool trails down your lips with no hope of taking care of it. “…I’m so full, you’re too much…”
“I know, sweetie, I know.” He wipes your spit after kissing your forehead. How gentle compared to what you’re about to go through. “Gonna move now.” His thrusts start slow for the two of you to adjust to each other; the feeling of his length’s veins coming in and out of your chasm is so euphoric, and the kisses to your cervix want your body to writhe and squirm. But you’re bent into this position for a reason: forced to submit to him no matter what. So you do just that.
Yet your horny haze gets more potent once he picks up the pace, rutting into you with increased speed. Your slit, still sensitive from earlier, gets overstimulated with the constant grazes on your gummy walls and jabs to your tender cervix. It takes everything in your power not to come so early.
“—Hahhhh, Nmmph. Oh, shit, shit, shit…” Toji groans above you, the thrusts of his pelvis increase to an irregular rhythm, grinding deep into your cunt to the point of uncontrollable babbles escaping your lips. His bullying on your insides results in you gripping his length hard, causing the older man to hiss and moan at your contractions. “—Ohhhfuuuckk!! Jesus Christ, baby. Y’re gonna make me go crazy.”
As if that wasn’t already happening now that he pistons his cock into your wetness, your brain turning into mush from the onslaught of ruts to your puffy wet chasm. Tears stream down your face, and more drool follows down with more precise hits to your delicate canal. The pounding in your head makes it hard to think of anything else, the squelching noises and paps of Toji’s balls hitting your cunt making it worse.
“D-Daddyyy, I’m—Ohoooo!! Oh, Jesus, ohhhshit!” You can’t formulate a proper sentence, too engulfed with the electrifying sensations coursing through your body.
“Damn, you feel too fucking good—Hnngh!!” Toji places his forehead on yours, resting his entire weight on you while his hips have a mind of their own. “‘Bout to make me knock you up…”
Oh, good Lord. The mere thought of having a child is the last thing that should be on your mind. But in a time like this, who in their right mind would be thinking straight? “Nnnfff! Oh God, pleaseee, fill me up, Daddyy!” Green eyes narrow with trenched brows. “—Pleasepleasepleaseee!! I want you to fill me up so bad, I want it, I want—Hyaaaaa!!”
How can he deny your desperate, teary pleas when you’re urging him on like this? “Heh, you’re so fuckin’ sexy, mama.” Toji captures your lips with his, your mewls taken by him as you sink further into your pleasurable thrill.
Sporadic thrusts of his pelvis produce more raunchy noises in the joining of your sexes, his heavy balls smacking on your cunt as he drives the base of his cock straight into you. Your slit is now a puffy mess, come and slick form a soapy mess that Toji now harbors a milky ring around his girth. A few rushed, sloppy thrusts heighten your high once more, and then Toji presses his pelvis down to the hilt on one final, harsh thrust, unloading his seed into your aching folds. And your climax follows in a few seconds, the walls of your cunt fluttering on his pulsating dick as your essence soaks him. Your muffled shrieks are received by him, quivering under him until the aftershocks wash through your body.
Once you two breathe at a steady tempo and the nerves of your sweaty bodies fall still, the kiss is broken with heavy pants and a string of spit that links you two together. Toji buries his face between your neck and shoulder, licking and kissing your skin as you’re allowed time to experience your clarity.
“Hmmm…You know I’m done yet, princess.” Toji mumbles to your ear before stationing your legs off his shoulders for them to rest.
“Yeah, I know, big guy.” You tease him with a breathless laugh, kissing him on the temple. “Always wanting more…”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“…So, you’re telling me you had your ex-husband spend the night? Not just the kids?”
“Yup, that’s what happened.”
This morning was different from your usual routine – well, you can’t say it’s different if you have done it before, huh? After five years of divorce, you thought you’d be so used to waking up and getting ready for work without worrying about others. However, this morning proves otherwise.
It felt natural walking into the kids’ room and lightly shaking them awake, telling them to get ready while you whip up something quick for them to eat as Toji showers (using your bathroom, by the way). Watching the kids run down the stairs and eat breakfast puts a smile on your face, reminiscing about the good old days when they were younger and teenier. It sometimes feels surreal doing the same thing for them now that they’re getting older and taller. But seeing them bicker and interact with each other in your presence never fails to warm your heart.
When Toji’s finished freshening up and loading his kids’ stuff in his truck, it’s time to bid them farewell for their departure for school. You give them final touch-ups on their hair and outfits, reminding them to be safe and not get into trouble (especially Megumi, now that the boy’s been getting into fights). And before they rush to the car, you hug them and give each a kiss on the cheek. Here is where the warm feeling inside your heart begins to deteriorate, not wanting to let them go. Yet, for their sake – and education – you release them and hope for the best.
The last to leave was Toji, who came from the kitchen to the front door with a paper plate wrapped in foil in one hand. His name is written boldly by a black Sharpie. “This fr' me?”
“No, it’s for Shiu Kong, for dealing with you all the time.” You stick your tongue out at Toji as he glares at you, not even moving out of the way while he exits through the door. “You better eat that when you get to work, you have a terrible habit of skipping lunch.”
“Whatever ya say, mom.” He pesters you with the title, knowing you’re technically not a mother anymore. Yet it only makes you smile knowing he notices your maternal side.
“Don’t forget to text me when Tsumiki’s soccer game is next week.” You watch him go down the porch stairs.
“Will do.”He whistles.
“And Toji?”
The man stops walking to turn to you, his forest green eyes fixed on you so quickly that you almost forget what you want to say. Or what you wanted to do. You place your fingers on your lips and blow a kiss with an outward gesture. It was an old habit you did whenever he left, something you can’t seem to get out of practice with. It’s embroidered in your mind at this point.
And when he catches the kiss with his free hand and places it on his chest, it makes your heart skip a beat. Toji grins, “I’ll be damned if that was fr' Shiu, too.”
You snicker with a shaken head. “Drive safe, Toji.” Closing the front door, you stand there for a while. Your smile doesn’t falter; it gets bigger as you replay the moment instead. Thinking about him, hearing him, seeing him, it all drives you crazy. And that’s a good thing…right?
“I don’t know, sounds like you still kinda care about the guy.”
“Of course I do,” So here you are, sitting in your living room enjoying the rays of the sunset decorating the space, in a video call with your best friends, Utahime and Mei Mei. You reply to the former’s comment. “Just because I don’t have the ring on my finger doesn’t mean I shouldn’t care about him. I mean, he’s the father of two lovely children.”
“Shoot, you’re better than me, then.” The dark-haired woman admits. “But you’re kinda proving my point, Y/n. Even when you don’t have the ring on, you two act like the same old couple, and it’s definitely not just for the kids’ sake. Let’s be real here.”
You try to interject, but the pale-blue-haired other, Mei Mei, intervenes, “I agree. It’s one thing if you let the children stay over, but he also wanted to spend the night. Sure, he could’ve been tired from driving all day and such. However, if you’re still seeing a man for the last five years – while legally unbound – and he says he wants to spend the night under your roof, which is rare, that should ring some bells at least.”
“I know, it did…” you nod along with what your friend is saying, throwing your head back with a heavy sigh. “But it’s not like he’s never spent the night here before, nor is he banished from stepping inside.”
“Oh? Then why is this time different from the others?”
Utahime jumps in after Mei Mei’s chirp. “Yeah, you’re telling us about all these nostalgic lovey-dovey feelings as if you’re falling in love with him all over again. What, did you two have sex or something?”
An open mouth, yet no words come out, leaving you in a predicament. You could’ve just lied or swerved the subject to something else. But you didn’t. And the two women on the screen lift their brows with hooded eyes, a look meaning a thousand words. You couldn’t even explain yourself either because a sudden knock on your door captured the attention of all three of you.
You stand up and walk towards the door, your friends still on call on the phone at hand. Opening the door, you’re almost stunned to see in front of you. Tsumiki and Megumi with nervous smiles, and their father at the car collecting the same duffles bags from last night. You’re kidding.
“Hey, kids.” The two of them gulped from not calling them by their names. You bring up the phone to face the screen to them. “Say hello to Auntie Mei Mei and Utahime.” The women on the line smile and wave at the children, who sheepishly wave back.
“Hi, aunties.” Megumi greets them, and then his eyes drift back to you. “So, Y/n—“
“What did you forget this time?” Straight to the point, no room for excuses.
“It was Miki this time! She forgot her soccer cleats.” The older sibling gawks at her younger brother for calling her out.
“Tsumiki, I know you have cleats at home.”
“I do, but these are special! You bought them for my birthday, and I’ve been wearing them to every game ever since! So, I was scared when I couldn’t find them at home.” The brunette was quick to defend her stand. “Also, Dad doesn’t feel like driving up here and then back. So…can we…”
You close your eyes and bring the phone to your face to shield your vexation. Twice in a row, the sixth time this month. You can hear the giggles of your friends from the other side of the phone, adding more fuel to the fire. You don’t look up until you hear heavy footsteps on the porch, seeing Toji holding both duffle bags with a hand and shoulder. He stares at you as you stare at him, a silent conversation on how to handle this situation. And when he shrugs with lifted brows, you realize it’s no use and release the long-awaited sigh.
“….If I see one more thing being left behind here, you guys can’t come back till December, understand?” It wasn’t anything serious, but enough for the kids to know you weren’t joking. They nod their heads in unison while you roll your eyes. “Okay, get in here.” They rushed inside with gleeful laughs, the shuffling of their backpacks following along with them. Your eyes then drift to Toji as he walks up to you. “Did you forget something here, too?”
“Yeah,” you lift a brow when he drops Megumi’s bag to the floor. Before you can register his hand on your chin, you squeak when he brings his lips to yours. It lasted for seconds, but the kiss was sweet and tender, sucking on your lip before letting go with a playful bite. “Meant to give you that when you woke up. Thanks for the food, mama.”
Toji picks the bag up and walks inside your home to put the bags in the rooms, leaving you standing on the porch with an astounded expression. You couldn’t appropriately calibrate your thoughts until you heard faint laughs from the phone. Then, you realize your best friends witnessed the entire scene that transpired.
Utahime, with the slyest leer, was the first to say something. “Oh yeah, he laid that pipe on you good, without a doubt.”
“Mhmm,” Mei Mei agrees with a chuckle. “And I'm guessing he’s gonna do it again tonight. Isn’t that right, Y/n?”
You end the video call with a heated face. “Sh-Shut your damn mouths!!” Again, you groan into your hands before returning inside. Thank God I still have those birth control pills...
♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by rororogi mogera + dividers by the amazing @/cafekitsune!!
In my art school au kirishima works with metal and you’ve never met him before but one day denki asks you to go by his studio for him to give him back his notes and when u do kiri is huge and tall with bulging muscles and big hands and he’s got a welding helmet on that makes him look sort of scary but when he takes it off and gives you that boyish grin you feel suddenly weak in the knees
Men suck! So why not drain their bank accounts for wasting your time?! It would be foolish not to. Even more foolish to push the buttons of a very powerful man in the underground world of Tokyo.
But hey wait! He messaged you first! He wanted you to be his sugar baby so badly it makes him look stupid!
Although Bakugou Katsuki is anything but stupid.
It was supposed to be an easy mark. He followed all of the rules of the unspoken game between sugar baby and sugar daddy. He reached out to you first. He set the time and place for the first date and he asked about your pricing.
To which you told him was a steep two thousand consultation.
Immediately there was a notification with your fee plus a little extra for the expedited meeting in your bank account before he messaged you again.
Wear somethin nice.
His profile was vague as most marks were. Choosing to keep their identity a secret, embarrassed to have to buy a woman's time with their endless cash flow for one reason or another.
Some because of their looks, some their abhorrent attitude, some because they were too busy drowning in their work and some because they just couldn't be bothered for much of anything real only to fall in love after the third date thinking they could buy your heart like they did everything else.
Because at the end of the day all of these marks had something in common. Something to exploit.
They were all terribly lonely.
And despite how forward this mark is, like others have been before him, he was no exception to this rule.
You roll your eyes as you doll up for tonight's meeting. You always wore something nice and appropriate for the setting yet undeniably sexy. Something that made every eye rove over you with the heated gaze of envy. Something that made you everything those men wanted you to be.
A trophy, a status symbol, a yes I'm fucking that.
Scrolling his profile or lack thereof, a little bit more in an attempt to be his perfect baby girl. Knowing that to have a good long lasting con to afford you the luxuries you sat in now, you had to shed your true skin and stuff yourself into something two sizes too small.
Because all men expected that of all women. Of anything of their desire. One must cut away the truest, deepest parts of themselves in order to hold a man's attention span for longer than five minutes. The second you start to look anything relatively human and anything more than a walking sex kitten or cock sleeve is the second they lose interest.
A man often times doesn't want to actually fill the loneliness, not with anything long term, they just want to relieve the ache in their cock.
At least that's all you've ever known and so who was anyone to judge you to exploit them how they exploited others.
Smiling at your reflection as you apply dark eyeliner to your lid, dragging it across your lash line as you go for a more noire mysterious look since you cannot find out much about your potential benefactor. Not that that worried you, you'd worn many skins before.
A recently divorcee, a 'single mom', but most benefactors liked a heavy power imbalance. They lived for the broke college girl act. Showing up in threadbare dresses that were still cute in an old shit box car you'd borrow from a friend and some classical piece of literature those fucks could recognize but knew they'd never read.
Mostly you figured they enjoyed that broke college girl act because they felt they were "helping you build a solid future" all while neglecting their own real daughters at home that they constantly compared you to. Showed you pictures of, similar in age to you and you'd have to stamp down the disgust at these men who probably didn't even know their real baby girl's favorite color.
Absolving themselves of guilt you supposed.
However this new benefactor was something to be excited about, mostly because of the unknown that he seemed to shroud himself in. No interests filled in, no movies or hobbies or songs that he likes.
Not even a profile picture or his name. Just GZ for now and when you checked the banking information on your wire in, it didn't give you any real leads. Received from a business or estate account that google results had no address or number for.
Only his age, 32. Three years your senior.
Which wasn't too bad of a gap well to you anyway, he saw your age as 25 because anything older than that, even one fucking year, men's interest dropped by sixty percent.
Another message comes through the little app.
GZ: Give me your number.
Aggressively forward as you giggle to yourself reading the message, let the read receipts show your interest when you lock your phone and don't reply. Taking the time to apply a nice dark shade of lipstick that made your mouth absolutely sinful as you wore a skin much too close to the real you. Going to your closet for your dress, knowing he was taking you to a very expensive, very highly rated restaurant, most likely to both flaunt and prove he has money.
Zipping up the velvet body con dress with a halter top, the hem stopped just above the knee and you knew it would ride up when you sat down or walked in your black heels with the pearl strap. Pulling on bicep length lace gloves and putting on an onyx ring on your middle finger before adding your pearl necklace to make a suggestion of what he could do to you at the very steep price of seven thousand dollars.
Some men even paid it and even asked to do it in the parking causing them to pay an expedited fee of four thousand. It meant nothing to you and every bit of power they thought they held over you to them.
Opening a drawer to your vanity all with unused pairs of underwear. Choosing a black lacey pair where the ass would be half exposed by lace and strings digging around for the to go tide pen so you could lightly bleach the crotch to make it seem as if they'd been worn all damn day "just for him"
Fuckin gag me.
Your phone pings again, another notification from the SDSB app.
GZ: I don't like waiting, Sweetheart, give me your number.
This time you reply but only after looking over your outfit in the mirror, debating if he'd be into stockings and ripping them before you realize it might make you look a little too conservative for his tastes.
Bbgrl: tell me what GZ stands for and I'll give you those special digits
GZ: I don't barter
Bbgrl: Everything comes at a cost. You know this otherwise you wouldn't be messaging me.
You watch the bouncing bubbles pop up before his quick reply.
GZ: Ground Zero
GZ: Now give me your fuckin number Princess.
Bbgrl: maybe in person, Mr Zero.
Not giving away your actual number was your number one rule and because the last sugar daddy you cut off went full tilt you had to disconnect your other phone and just hadn't had a chance to get a burner yet.
Picking up a small clutch purse you shove inside your lipstick for the night, your phone, the doctored pair of underwear and you don't even bother to bring any sort of wallet.
Walking to a public place a block or so from your luxury condo before you flag down a cab giving them the address as the man smiles down at your cleavage. Enjoying the view in the rearview and it's a wonder he doesn't crash and kill you both. Leaning down to meet his gaze with a disarming smile, wearing a skin to protect both you and him from harm as you force a giggle.
"Eyes on the road silly." When really you wanted to take the knife strapped to your ribs and slit his throat for thinking he even deserved to stare at you like that.
You wore this dress for attention yes but there is a fine line between appreciation of a body and straight up eye fucking you.
And just because you wore this dress didn't give him the right to stare. Counting down from ten as you have pretty visions of gouging his eyes out only for him to pull up right to the restaurant, acting as if he was going to get out and help you.
"No need." You smile politely, "And the fare?"
You look at the triple zeros and his eyes flash to it in embarrassment, so busy eating you alive with his eyes he forgot to start it.
"On the house for a pretty lady."
Forcing a smile as you give him a thanks, leaving the cab as quickly as you can before you walk inside, twenty minutes late for the date.
Tardiness was a big part of the game, whether it agitated them or made them anxious, it would certainly place a little more power on your initial interaction. Gaging their reaction to your power play always determines how you'll respond. Clueless, lost, down right stupid.
The hostess gives you a warm smile as she welcomes you into the restaurant asking of your party size. You're quick to tell her you're here for GZ.
"Or maybe under the name Ground Zero if the initials are too vague." You smile and watch the hostess blanche a moment before she fixes her face.
"Right this way." Expect she doesn't lead you all the way over there, stops just before the darker corner of the restaurant making a gesture with her hands and you chalk it up to nerves. That maybe he owned the whole fucking restaurant.
Watching his large palm swirl a bourbon straight, watch his other heavily ringed hand card through his ash blonde locks.
"Mr Zero?" You ask with a cat like smile, coming to stand beside the table. He glares up at you either oblivious or acting it as you wait for him to pull out your chair.
"Yer fuckin late Princess." He doesn't wait you out though can tell from a glance you'll stand there with your sexy ass heels rooted to the hardwoods of the restaurant before you'd ever sit down. He doesn't give in, this just happened to give him a chance to show his stature. He slams his drink down, clattering the water glasses and your wine glass filled with a pinkish color. Most likely something sweet. For a moment it makes you wonder if he read your profile considering most men didn't bother and showed it often on their first dates that they hadn't when they ordered you red wine. Which you had as your top dislike.
When he rises he's much much bigger than you. Tall enough you have to crane your head up to look at him, broad shoulders and now that he's fully facing you you can see his scarred face. A deep fissure of discolored skin from just over his eyebrow cutting through his eye flaring over his cheek before tapering off at his throat before it meets another deep scar that's hidden under his shirt.
He didn't even bother with a dress jacket, only a dress shirt, black, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows exposing his tattoos and even more scars, his black vest if swirling velvet on the front only emphasizes his broad chest and tapered waist.
He stands there a moment watching you take him in and he cannot lie he is surprised. Most women cowarded at his size especially when they see his scar and his half clouded bromine eye but you just smile. Maybe even a bit of excitement flashed in your eyes but you stand unmoving still that fuckin cat smirk on your dark stained lips.
"My chair, Mr Zero." You remind him and he snarls, leaning in close to your face tipping your chin up to him. It's here you realize how large his hands are, especially when the other settles at your ribcage a moment. You just hope he doesn't feel the knife nestled there and take it as a threat to himself.
"I told you I didn't like waiting." He growls, "So what makes you think Imma continue this date?"
"You're still here aren't you? Besides," You half guide him by moving your face gently from his grip, stepping towards your chair and he follows, "You wouldn't want to cancel a date with such a pretty girl would you?"
"A pretty woman." He corrects with a growl, pulling back your chair and shoving it in roughly when you sit, leaning behind you to whisper in your diamond clad ear, "Yer no girl that's for sure."
As if to say a predator recognizes a predator but you feign ignorance.
"Year?" You ask, smelling your wine before taking a sip. It's fruity, peach you realize with hints of citrus and angel food cake.
"Didn't ask." He bites waiting for you to ask where the menus were, he makes eye contact with the waiter to signal to start their meals. Oblivious, you take another sip of this amazingly delicious wine.
"Bit of a dessert wine isn't it?" You comment, usually men would blunder by now realizing they aren't as prestigious or well versed as they pretended to be but this man proves to be different once again.
"Peach pairs well with spicy and smokey." Glaring right back at you before a mean smile curls his lips, "Unless ya lied twice on your profile."
You set the wine glass down thanking the waiter when they leave fresh bread. Zero is faster than you grabbing for the crusty pre dinner treat as he butters the rich white center before placing the slice on your plate before starting his own.
"Hmm, I haven't lied on my profile." You refuse to touch his offering for now.
"Sweetheart, you may look twenty five but I know that you're closer to thirty than what you want to admit." There's that cruel smile of his again.
"It's quite rude to make a woman seem older than what she is. Touchy subject ya know?" Going back to sipping your wine as you've decided you may need a buzz to endure this date, "Or maybe you don't have a lot of experience with women. Is that why I'm here?"
Smirking over the vein protruding from his throat but the satisfaction only lasts so long, thoughts rounding back to wondering how the fuck he knew your real age and so quickly.
Suddenly you feel his fingers wrapping around the back of you knee as he pulls you forward leaning over the table.
"Haaah? Ya think I don't have experience with women? Oh sweetheart I could have you begging to take my cock in this bathroom in under ten minutes. But I need you for somethin else." He lets his bruising grip go when he sees a flash of the real you, sees your pretty lip snarl in disgust before you fix your face so quickly it would have him wondering if he ever saw that snarl or not.
He thinks he likes this version more than what his right hand picked out from your profile.
Your profile was vague but your photo album was filled with a lot of photos that men could easily project on or imagine themselves with you. Looking demure, easy going, a submissive.
Really Bakugou can tell you're a fucking brat at best and far from demure.
"Is that true Mr Zero? Sex on the first date is quite expensive." You smile cutely, make it a giggle all while the steak knife whispers to you that it belonged shoved through his hand on the table.
"I bet it is sweetheart." He spits back.
"So…our contract?" You're ready to rush this along thinking that maybe this benefactor isn't going to work out and that you'll have to save your underwear for another time.
He leans back, finally looking a little more relaxed as you bring up business as if contracts and dealings were part of his expertise. Taking a sip of his bourbon as he looks you over in that fine velvet dress he imagines on the floor of his expensive bedroom.
"Dunno can ya behave long enough to talk about it?" Deadly smirk on his lips now, one that makes your stomach clench.
"I always behave, Mr. Zero." A purr, one that changes the tone of the entire dinner, at least for now.
A light scoff but he's smiling, genuinely and he looks so handsome like that. His eyes catch something you don't see before the waiter comes over with two starter salads.
You look down at the fresh bed of greens matching his and try not to grimace that he's most likely ordered dinner for you. Hating when benefactors took it upon themselves as they never paid enough attention to order even remotely right.
"Let's see how dinner goes first yea, princess? Gotta make sure I like it before I buy it." A clear taunt and stab at you to which you give a tight smile. Him placing himself above you but you were determined at the very least to secure the after dinner deposit fee from him that was clearly stated on your profile.
Any dinner lasting longer than two hours or is set after eight thirty pm is considered to be equal to two consultation fees.
He already violated the time since he messaged you at exactly six pm tonight and you were always sure to take your time getting ready.
But you had to finish the fucking date first.
"Okay." Agreeing without issue as you bite your tongue. Finishing your salad and your wine, asking him to order you another glass. Batting your eyelashes and for a second you see his face flash with something other than his gruff nature. Standing with the brief explanation of "freshening up."
Annoyed as you enter the ladies room, looking at your reflection as if to share a what the fuck glance with a friend before rooting around in your bag. Touching up your lipstick, spraying yourself with a bit of your perfume that made all the men insane for you before turning your attention to your hair.
Making sure it was still in perfect placement as you angle your pretty face this way and that. Clutch open on the vanity, the dummy pair of underwear threatening to fall out. Checking your account to see if the rest of this date was worth it when you see your stipulation fee is sitting in your account despite the date only being an hour long thus far.
Figuring you'll make this date worth it now, mostly curiosity getting the best of you over what is going to make this contact so fucking special he's more than willing to pay everything upfront.
To deal with your more cheeky side you used to scare off weaker men.
Clawed fingers curling around the soft pair of underwear, rubbing them between your hands vigorously to make them warm to the touch. To have him thinking that this sexy lingerie style underwear was nestled right to your cunt.
Balling them up as you make your way out of the bathroom while the waitresses gossip over the fact that some violent ringleader was dining there tonight and that he was "dangerously hot." Hushing when they see you pass the refreshment nook before you make your way back to the table.
Thankfully his left hand with all his rings is resting on its side on the table giving you more than enough space to press the warm fabric into his palm and curling his fist around it before sitting back across from him. Giving a flirtatious smile to the large blonde who turns his hand to see what you placed into his palm. Smirking and shaking his head as he looks down at the fabric.
Unfurling it with his large hand and seeing the pair of underwear with a little spot on the crotch that makes him chuckle.
You look over your meal that's been set out, can tell he was polite enough to wait for you as the aroma of spicy smoked meat sits before you. Breathing deeply and hating to admit that you'd actually like this dish. Picking up your fork as you let him become dumbfounded over the thought that you were bare under your dress when that was far from the truth.
Bakugou leans over the very expensive meal on the small table. Grabbing at your jaw a bit tightly so he can turn your face to husk in your ear.
"Now gimme the ones you're actually wearing, Princess." He growls, pulling back to hold out his hand expectantly.
Feigning innocence you look up at him and bat your eyelashes since that worked earlier, even letting your eyes get a little glassy.
"Wh-what are you talking about Mr. Zero?" Voice soft and going softer still when you add, "Those are my underwear. I wore them just for you."
He laughs loudly in your face and his grip tightens, mouth back at your ear with a deadly tone. A mix of playful flirtation and restrained anger.
"Now Princess, 'fore I get mad."
It sends a chill down your spine and a jolt to your cunt. Breaking your facade entirely when you let sharp nails bite into his thick wrist as you yank away your face. Looking around trying to come up with an excuse that this was too much of a public place before he adds.
"We're secluded enough." Letting his fingers wave impatiently with his palm up. Your eyes widen as you see how serious he is. Unable to hide the snarl on your lips or the flash of deep seeded anger in your eyes as you obey a benefactor's command instead of tricking them into thinking they had control.
Shimmying up your little bodycon dress, hooking sharp clawed thumbs into the band of the underwear to bring it down past your thick thighs that part for just a moment exposing your pretty mound to Bakugou by accident. It makes saliva coat his tongue and his cock twitch in his expensive pants.
Quickly fixing the hem of your dress that still tries to ride up thanks to your hips and thighs, balling up the black underwear and slapping it into Bakugou's waiting palm harshly. The corner of his lip curls up as he realizes it's a thong, much better than the dummy pair you gave him moments ago.
"You're such a fuckin pervert." You cross your arms over your chest, pushing up your tits giving the ash blonde a snarling pout. Wholly forgetting about your dinner now as you look away from him, can't believe he's won this round.
"Yea? Who's fault is that? Yer the one who gave me a clean pair of underwear to make me love sick for ya so I'd cough up all my cash." He makes no move to pocket the thin pair of underwear you've just given him, making your eyes dart to look for the approaching waiter, "This work on most men Sweetheart?"
"Tsk, yes." You scoff, "Then they send me whatever I fuckin want."
Pushing away a bit, thinking of leaving from how condescending his tone is. Inspecting the first pair you've given him now that he has the actual pair you'd been wearing, looking closely at the crotch.
"Did ya use a bleach pen on these 'fore ya came in?" He laughs when he watches your face blanch, most men couldn't tell. Just thought it was real and went with it, asked for more.
The waiter starts to come back to the table with another glass of Bakugou's bourbon and your wine, trying not to crack. Shoving down the panic and letting your nails bite into your palm letting crescent moons form in your soft skin. To try not to shove his hands into his lap to save you the embarrassment because the last thing you want him to know is that he's actually getting under your skin. He looks over his shoulder to follow your gaze, feral smile on his mouth.
"Besides, who's the real pervert here, Me for enjoying a pretty woman's time," He rolls the dark fabric around in his hand, still warm from your cunt and when he gets to the crotch it's damp, sticky, "Or you, for getting off to playing some dumb ass men outta thousands."
"I'm not-"
"Not what? Wet?" He laughs, letting his thumb slide through the slick of your underwear, uncaring that the waiter is here now. Setting down the drinks and forgoing asking how the meal was quickly slipping away in hopes of not bothering Ground Zero.
"Sweetheart I bet I could run my fingers through that sticky cunt and everyone in this restaurant would hear it." Bringing his thumb up to his mouth licking at it as one would to get sauce off their fingers, his eyes flutter and suddenly your cheeks burn.
"You're insufferable." You hiss, crossing your legs now, still unable to look at him.
"Ya know, I hate liars." He tosses your fake pair of underwear, pocketing the thong you wore with one hand while the other swirls his drink, "Ya've lied three times now."
"I have not."
"Ya have. Yer age, yer whole personality, yer underwear." He lists them on his fingers and funny enough you chose to die on only one of those hills.
"I am twenty five." You hiss, grabbing at your wine and downing it in three swallows.
"But yer not." He chuckles, eyes flicker to your face, you don't have foundation on, going for a mostly natural look, and Bakugou has good eyes where most men didn't, "Ya've got crows feet sweetheart. Seems like ya've smiled a lot in your life."
Reflexivity you go to hide the corner of your eyes, they crease heavily when you really smile. Everyone who knew you, actually knew you, always made the comment of "you smile with your eyes."
"Ah come on they're barely noticeable and nothin to be ashamed about." He chuckles, pulling at your wrists so he could see your face again, "Gimme a smile."
"Fuck off." You hiss waving him away dismissively trying to regain control, "The contract Mr Zero."
He sighs, annoyed as he leans back, "We haven't finished dinner."
"I'd like to skip to dessert." A snarling hiss as you push away what was probably the best meal you could've ever had.
"Oh would you?" Deadly smirk, "I could skip to dessert iffin ya want. In my car or the bathroom, your pick Princess."
"Again you're fucking insufferable." You make motion to stand, to leave, only for his strong hand to catch your wrist and pull you into his lap making this somehow worse.
"What's wrong? Embarrassed now?" He tilts your chin to him and you squeeze your eyes shut in defiance he chuckles lowly, "Tell me yer real age and I'll stop teasing, for now."
You open your eyes to glare at him for a long, long time. No judgment in those bromine eyes as he patiently waits for your answer. You sigh, scratching roughly at his undercut with your long nails whether it was a strategic move or your fingers having a mind of their own, you weren't sure. The only thing you were sure of was that this man was trouble.
Big trouble.
Yet you answer honestly anyway.
"Twenty nine." It's soft, genuinely this time as if you might be a little embarrassed about it when you know you shouldn't. He smiles up at you, letting his thumb linger at one of the corners of your eyes before he lets his fingers trace your face down to your jaw.
"See, won't so bad to admit it was it?" Genuine gentle tone, his hand on your hip squeezing at the fat there.
Your heart races and that foreboding feeling creeps up your throat as you're slowly realizing that you are no longer the one who was hunting.
No, no, now you were being hunted.
Nails bite harshly into his nape as you stand, snarl to your lips and all he can do is chuckle at your flippant attitude.
"M leaving." Holding out your manicured hand, "Give me my underwear back."
"No, I paid for it." He growls really spurring on your temper now.
"All you men are the same. Pigs who want to keep their dicks wet." A scoff as you snarl your pretty lips.
"And I can say all women are the same. Bitches who want to keep their pockets full." He retorts forcing your sharp claws to grab onto the cheeks of what you don't realize is the most powerful man in the entire country.
Even making sure your nails bite into the skin of his cheeks, "I don't need your fucking money."
"Then why're ya here sweetheart?" He smirks up at you, grabbing onto your wrist tightly.
"Fuck you. You don't know me." Shoving his face and escaping his tight grip before you begin to stomp from the restaurant with your head held high.
"You'll be crawling back to me, princess." He calls out with a chuckle.
"I won't!" You send a snarling growl back, unable to get through the too quiet dining room to the exit of the five star place.
Hissing through your teeth with an echoing groan as the night air hits you doing little to cool your temper while you hail a cab.
Pulling up the sugar baby app on your phone going to his profile to block him but before you can a message pops up.
GZ: See ya in two months sweetheart.
You'd never blocked a mark faster in your entire life.
But the thing you don't know about him yet is that Bakugou Katsuki always kept his promises.
A/N: yay! You've gotten to the end! Thank you so much for reading! Now I have plans to make this a series however I'm not very good at long term things if I'm being honest. Lmfao but please! If you liked or loved this reblog it! I'd love to hear in my inbox or in the body of the reblog or even in your tags of your reblog what you thought of this!