#tw: coercion | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

revehae · 3 months

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all the rage

pairing ↠ nerd!mark x (f) reader

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, dubcon, nerd!mark, virgin!mark, coercion/blackmail, unprotected sex, nonconsented recording, oral, implied bimbo!reader

summary ↠ mark is sick and tired of being ignored by you and only being worthful when you need to get your homework done. meanwhile, you don’t hesitate to flash your body to any stupid jock. so, he cooks up the perfect plan - blackmail.

wc ↠ 4.5k

a/n ↠ part 3/5 of the college-capades series!

don’t like it, don’t read.

it was never difficult for mark, or any other student, to conclude whether or not you’d walked into a room. either there would be a crude cacophony of whistles from boys or none too subtle whispers from girls that wrenched their faces in contempt.

mark wanted to give them all, man or woman, a very large, unforgiving piece of his mind. the men that sat there, laughing and smirking amongst themselves, lusting over what should’ve only been his. the women that rolled their eyes and blatantly disrespected you to obscure their own insecurities.

still, you never paid those girls even half the mind they were indebted to you, parading over to a popular athlete it was no secret most girls would sell an arm and a leg for and sitting squarely on his lap. like clockwork, the chosen boys would drape you in a blanket of attention, and you’d do something adjacent to giggling and leaning flush against their chests. whereas mark was left in the corner of the room to sulk and brood, never afforded more than a cute smile and a compliment. the sight of you with other men filled him with unadulterated jealousy and rage.

this week, it was jung jaehyun you were after like a pack of hyenas, the captain of the basketball team. only a couple of weeks before, it was lee jeno, the star player of the hockey team.

it felt as if you were deliberately spreading your legs for anyone that wasn’t mark, making it a point to remind him that he was just a tool in your pocket. he beat his brain out trying to decipher why it was that you’d yet to have given yourself to him. he knew it was not because you were apparently friends. you had fucked anyone from your friends to even your eng lit professsor.

it wasn’t like your qualifications extended only to athletes, and even if they did, mark was literally a member of the basketball team. maybe it was because he was something of a nerd, never not found with his nose in a book, but mark had proven himself more useful to you than any of the undeserving boys you’d given chances to. when he tutored you and let you borrow his notes, all he received was a thank you and a grateful kiss to the cheek. but had anyone else lent you a favor - or even looked at you a certain way - your mouth would fall much, much lower.

today, you’d been clinging to jaehyun, laughing at seemingly every little thing he said. the sight of you together, your bodies so close and jaehyun’s hand at your very exposed thigh, ignited white hot rage within mark, though he willed himself to remain calm. he was clever and that was his advantage. you’d never see his plan coming, and then you would have no choice but to be his.

unbeknownst to you, mark had overheard your conversation with professor kim doyoung the other day, not failing to note that he had a special meeting scheduled with you. you were so busy, like one dick would never be enough for you. as soon as mark knew, he hid a camera in the office, and there was only a matter of time before you fell desperately into his clutches.

that was why when he saw jaehyun in the locker room that day, and overheard his teammates talking about you, mark breathed with more ease and less ire, for the most part tuning out their conversation.

johnny pulled out his phone and called his teammates around to take a look. “look at this fucking bimbo.”

one of them, haechan, grinned mischievously and nudged jaehyun in the side. “yo, you tap that yet, jay?”

jaehyun chuckled, replying, “nah, but she gave me top in the back of my car. took that shit like a champ. she said she’ll let me hit if we win tonight, though.”

jaemin snorted and said, “pfft. i bet she’d fuck you even if we lose. but i know one thing - a slut like that is getting it from somewhere else if she’s waiting that long.”

when mark saw that picture of you on johnny’s phone, everything else became white noise. he was trying not to grow hard at the sight of you, though judging from their dialogue, his fellow teammates were obviously a hell of a lot more shameless. he shoved the thought of jaehyun fucking you out of his brain, only tantalized by thoughts of him and you.

that night, they won.

you were walking around with a limp to your steps the following day, giddy and carefree. mark could only guess why, but he refused to think of you with anyone that wasn’t him. he was a man on a mission.

when mark approached you, you blinked in surprise, johnny, though shot him an inviting smile. more often than not, you tended to forget he was even there. he was always in his own little world. you greeted, “hi, markie. can i help you?”

mark cleared his throat and realized that he probably should have planned what he was going to say in advance. being so close to you never failed to make his brain slam on the brakes. “i, um, have to show you something.”

you cocked a brow. “like what?”

“it’s a secret,” mark insisted, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “will you come with me?”

you shrugged. “sure.” as far as you were concerned, you’d gauged mark to be relatively harmless.

mark gave you a bashful little smile, and you grabbed your bag before leaving, letting him lead the way. whatever he had in store for you, you were none the wiser.

mark was fighting a sly little grin. so far, so good. if all went smoothly, it would only be the two of you at the dorms for a while, meaning mark could do as he pleased. sure, a college dorm wasn’t the ideal place to hook up with you for a number of reasons, but he knew that he would have you nice and controlled in a matter of moments.

in the corridor, you clung to mark’s side, resting your head against his body, and broke the silence to remark, “you smell good.”

mark, flushed, stammered, “thank you.”

you stifled a snicker. it was no secret that mark had something of a crush on you (as many boys did), and you enjoyed stirring reactions out of him every once in a while. he had always been shy, but whenever you came into the equation, it was like his whole system shut down. needless to say, you found it cute.

though inside mark’s head, none of it was ever enough for him. he didn’t see it as you innocently flirting with him. he took it as you toying with him, poking fun at him. like you were trying to ridicule him by shoving his reactions in his face and tell him that that was why you never gave him the time of day. he was just a pawn in an even bigger game, but not anymore. all of that came to an end today.

mark unlocked the door and took you to his room. you took a couple of glances around the place as you walked through the hallway. it was empty.

sitting your bag down on his bed, you asked sweetly, “so, what did you have to show me?”

you were a little surprised, and confused, when mark pulled out his phone of all things. he simply shoved it in your face and his tiny smile dropped when he asked expressionlessly, “is this you?”

your eyes flickered. to your horror, it was a video of you getting railed by doyoung in his office. you remembered feeling inexplicably watched, but doyoung had taken no risks when it came to getting caught, because he had a career at stake. your face was very clear in the video, lips parted while you moaned your professor’s name, and to make matters worse, his voice was audible, doyoung growling, “keep clenching around my dick like that and you’ll never fail another test.”

mark chuckled at the sight of the blood draining from your face, the realization settling in, and he asked, “wouldn’t it be funny if the whole school got this video?”

you reached out, trying to grab the phone, but mark lifted it over your head.

“ah, ah, ah,” he sang, taunting. “this is mine.”

you cried out, “mark, you can’t show this to anyone!”

“well, no, actually. i think i can,” mark hummed, pretending to ponder his options. “there’s many different ways. i could post it on a website, you know. title it ‘young whore gets railed by her own professor.’ or i could send it in the team group chat and let them do all the heavy lifting.”

you fell down to your knees, tears in your eyes as you crouched before him and begged, “mark, please. i just wanted to get a good grade. i’ll do whatever you want, just please don’t show anyone. this will ruin me.”

that piqued mark’s interest. “whatever i want?”

you bobbed your head, wiping tears from your face with the back of your hand, and traveled your hand up his leg as you realized he was already pathetically hard. “is there anything i can… help you with?”

mark sat at the edge of his bed, grunting, “take a wild guess.”

you knew what that meant, lifting your hands to remove his pants. mark helped you take off his underwear, bundling at his ankles with the rest of his clothes. his hard cock stood thick against his stomach, desperately angry too, just like the rest of him.

mark watched you lick a stripe down your hand before grabbing his cock in your fist, stroking him up and down. after imagining this moment for a thousand days and a thousand nights, his bare cock in your skilled hands, his dreams were finally becoming a reality. there were many times in the months that mark had been silently aching for you that he fisted his own cock, pretending it was you.

“fuck,” mark groaned, eyes closing.

part of him was in disbelief. this whole time, all it took was a little blackmail to get you on your knees for him? had he known that, mark would’ve done this a hell of a lot sooner.

then, you darted your tongue around his slit, bringing it down to lick at his shaft and tongue his balls. mark grabbed a fistful of your hair and locked it in place behind your head, not only to keep it out of your face, but to have something to anchor himself with when he felt as if he was going under.

and with your experience, that would happen a lot of times.

it was almost like you were pulling out all of the stops to convince him not to circulate that video of you, and judging from the desperate look in your eyes, mark pieced together that it may have not been too far from the truth. he wondered how many other guys had seen you truly desperate, not just the little shows you put on to get your way. you treated men like toys and the world like your personal playground, where boys were your subjects to bend and twist however you pleased, because you took your power from making them need you.

but mark was certain that he was the first to have the upper hand over you, something you didn’t have leverage over. everybody knew of your sexcapades with boy after boy, but only because they were always verbally spread. never had anyone seen physical proof of these little trysts, other than your little limps when you got fucked too hard.

mark wanted that. he didn’t want anyone to see your body so exposed, but he wanted everyone to know that he’d finally conquered you, and he wanted you to be unable to deny it. he wanted to fuck you so vigorously that you wouldn’t even be able to walk for the next couple of days.

you could keep a secret if you really wanted to. given the amount of times he had tutored you for a number of different courses, he was certain that doyoung couldn’t have been the only professor you fucked. having a brain just wasn’t something little whores like you were good at. mark would take good care of you if you kept pleasing him like this, and only him. you would never need another man as long as you had him to do your bidding.

there was a lewd, wet sound when you finally sucked mark’s cock into your mouth, followed by a shaky exhale of your name coming from his end. he yanked at your hair just a little, met with a muffled noise against his cock. “fuck, you’re so good at this,” mark hissed.

you only hummed because there was nothing that you could say with the tip of his dick hitting the very back of your throat. your mouth was so warm, so wet, mark couldn’t help but utter a string of profanities, stammering, “fuck,” over and over again. when you were in the picture, his genius brain couldn’t function, especially not enough for a broad vocabulary.

while one hand was tangled in your hair, mark kept his other hand bunched at his sheets, gripping them for dear life. yours were at his thighs, supporting you while you bobbed your head up and down his shaft, your pretty lips tight around his cock. his roommate wasn’t supposed to be back for a few hours and mark hoped it stayed that way, because he planned on taking his time with you.

too many months had been spent pining lostly for you, amounting to nothing in your life and hardly even being spared a glance in his general direction. for a few hours at the very least, he had you all to himself, and he was going to make sure that when you left, you would never forget him.

after he was done collecting his long overdue, much-needed apology in the form of your mouth bringing him to climax. and it wouldn’t be long before you finished him, because mark could feel himself inching closer and closer to climax the longer you warmed his size.

he started to rock his cock into the back of your throat, ruining the careful pace you’d set and grabbing a hold of the reins, fucking your mouth however he liked. you took it eagerly, struggling, but eager nonetheless.

your grip on his thighs tightened, as if you would slip away from the force of his erratic thrusts against your poor mouth. you knew your throat was going to be so hoarse by the end of it all and mark would fold the second he heard your weak voice.

the chants of your name and deep curses got louder, more repetitive as mark continued to use your mouth to get off. you started to gag, but the feeling, combined with the misty look in your eyes, did nothing but encourage mark’s movements and spur him on.

his pace got rougher. the clasp on your hair was unrelenting. his thrusts lost all rhythm, sporadic as they could ever be, until you heard the anticipated prolonged stretch of, “shit,” and all his movements came to a complete standstill. his cum painted the back of your tongue and you made your best effort to swallow it all, gulping it back as quickly as it came. literally.

when he released your hair, you pulled back, your chest heaving while you watched mark try to blink the dazed look out of his eyes. you were the first girl to give him head and it enraged him to think that jaehyun had a similar experience in the back of his car, because though you were the first mark ever had, he was also certain that you would be the best.

your eyes were widened and you played coy, asking demurely, “did i do okay?”

“fuck,” was all that mark could say, back dropping against the mattress. you’d officially sucked the soul of him.

that was answer enough. you wiped some remaining drops of semen from your mouth with the back of your hand and rose from your knees. mark had your entire future at the palm of his hands right now and you were completely at his mercy, so you figured it was in your best interest to be meek. “is there anything else i can do, markie?”

mark scanned you with his eyes, observing you from head to toe. your voice was definitely a little raspy from how far he had shoved himself down your throat and he loved every second of it. all the proof that you’d taken him.

you gasped out when mark grabbed you by the throat and whipped you onto the mattress, hovering over you. you got whiplash from how jarring it was. you were accustomed to the shy, reticent mark that couldn’t even look you in the face for too long without spluttering. “you’ve done enough,” mark said. “just lie here and stay still.”

you bobbed your head, in no position to complain. he could ruin your life and your professor’s in just a few clicks, and that was enough to terrify you into compliance, although you didn’t express how genuinely fearful you were.

mark released your throat, crawling between your legs. you were wearing this tiny fucking miniskirt and it made him so horny he got sick. the audacity of you to walk around like this, turning heads and turning people on. you instinctively spread your thighs for him, a gesture that made mark scoff, and he hardened again at the sight of your damp thong.

fuck, you must’ve really wanted him, too. just sucking dick got you aroused like that? of course, it did. you were the biggest fucking slut the campus’s ever known.

“shit,” mark whispered, touching you through your panties. you were his fantasy.

mark slipped your thong to the side, just wanting to stop and marvel at the sight of your pussy before he stuffed you full of his cock and went to town. your panties, damp as they were, kept clinging to your skin. your folds were wet and he couldn’t help but want a little taste, basking in the noise you let out when he started to lick at your pussy.

all he could hear was your airy breathing and the sound of him tonguing your cunt while your thighs tried to squash his head. he even didn’t mind it. the only thing mark cared about in that moment was savoring the taste of you.

“mark-ie,” you moaned, threading your hands through his hair.

the sound of you calling out his name, that fucking nickname you loved to taunt him with, made his cock throb and twitch against the side of his bed. you were just so enticing.

“gonna fuck you now,” mark announced, separating from your cunt.

you whined, “hurry.”

you were raising your hips, impatiently waiting to feel his touch on your skin again. mark was quick to line himself up at your entrance, steering his hard cock deep inside your cunt with one thrust. you cried out that stupid fucking nickname again while he watched with fascination how you swallowed him whole.

your pussy felt just as warm as your mouth, but tighter. mark couldn’t wrap his head around how you squeezed him, kneading his cock, wet little noises coming from your cunt with every motion of his hips. you were better than anything he could have ever imagined and this was just the beginning.

“you’re so much bigger than i thought,” you whispered, intending to keep the little confession to yourself, but it was out before you could put a lid on it.

that was conflicting to mark. on the one hand, it enraged him to a capacity beyond being fathomable. you thought he was small? but on the other, it confirmed that you did think about him, and it gave him such an ego boost to know that you thought he was big.

mark couldn’t help but ask, “am i bigger than professor kim?”

“thicker,” you exhaled, breathless.

mark would take it. he wanted so badly to be unforgettable. you never returned to your little playthings after you’d had your fun with them. he wanted to be the one you couldn’t resist crawling back to, the one that made you feel so much ecstasy that you couldn’t find anything like him anywhere else.

it was over once mark found his pace, fucking into you with a steady rhythm. his hands had a borderline bruising grip at your thick hips, fingers finding purchase there. his airy whines were so cute and his breathy grunts were so deep, both of which had you tightening uncontrollably.

it drove mark past the threshold of insanity. he was so angry that you hadn’t given yourself to him sooner, that he was only now getting a slice of what should’ve been his eons ago.

as soon as tomorrow, you would probably be on another dick, moaning another man’s name, and he couldn’t stand the fucking mental picture he got. his only option was to take out all his pent-up frustrations on you. given that you were the root of them, the direct cause of the ache and rage broiling inside his chest, it was only reasonable and fair.

“gonna make you mine,” mark said, the pleasure spreading through him so badly that he couldn’t help but stammer.

you didn’t miss a beat. “i’m already yours.”

mark howled, feeling as if he started to sweat harder just from you uttering those three words. it was pathetic how effortlessly you could wreck him, and you were so aware of your power, so cocky. he would allow it. as long as he got what was his, all else failed to matter.

matter of fact, mark failed to think of anything that wasn’t in regard to you. he had a thousand different problems in his life and all of them melted to the warmth of your touch, succumbing to the pressure pulsing around his cock. loans didn’t matter. his stupid fucking roommate didn’t matter. none of his assignments mattered. when it came to you, mark got tunnel vision.

there was pleasure etched across your face and mark loved every inch of it. he loved that he was making you feel as good as he felt. you couldn’t even deny it. you were the opposite of still, the one thing he told you to do, but again, he would allow it.

mark was so deep inside that it was probably mind-numbing. “markie,” you whimpered out, gasping for air.

“mark,” he corrected with a growl, snapping the band of your thong against your skin. he was tired of that nickname. it felt infantilizing. he doubted that you called jaehyun jaehyunie.

you choked out, “mark.”

that was much better, but the damage was already done. mark was pissed. he’d been dreaming of how exactly he would fuck you ever since he watched that video of you and doyoung (of course, he couldn’t not watch you get railed into oblivion, no matter how much it irked him) and now that he was balls deep inside you, you were still finding ways to get on his nerves.

mark grabbed you by the throat again, making your eyes widen. his grip wasn’t crushing, he cared about you too much to really hurt you, but it was tight enough. “i don’t understand you,” he hissed. “you fuck a new guy almost every fucking day, whether it be for fun or because you owe them a favor, but ignore me. you ignore me, after everything i’ve done to help you.”

“i’m sorry, mark,” you rasped, grinding your hips against his.

“no the fuck you’re not,” mark snapped. “you know how i know you’re not? because you don’t care about anything but having that dumb pussy fucked. you’d rather die than have to use that brain.”

mark didn’t miss the way you whimpered and clenched around his dick, and if anything, it made him shake his head. he was fucking you brutally and yet you couldn’t help but get off like the little whore everybody knew that you were.

he lifted up your the tight tee you wearing, the one he could see your nipples through (mark tried to ignore this for both of your sake), and sucked your breast into his mouth. you moaned, placing a hand comfortably on his head while he sucked at your nipples.

and things stayed like that for a while, almost sweet, depending on who you asked. but the heat building to a peak in your stomach was only festering and you couldn’t control the whines that frequently escaped you.

“mark,” you called out. he didn’t budge, didn’t move from your chest. “mark, i’m so close.”

mark lifted his head at that, dragging, “shit.”

you needed to cum so badly. if he wanted you to beg, you would if that was what it took. “please make me cum, mark. please, make me cum…”

all mark did was curse and swear, and your eyes were on his face, watching every word part his delicate lips. you’d seen his face tense with pleasure and fell in love with the sight, like that itself was getting you there.

and it did.

there was a final, loud cry of mark’s name when you climaxed, your eyes rolling back with pleasure and your fingers digging into the sheets. mark had sat here so many times on this very bad, jacking off to the thought of you, and now he was getting you off.

it was something straight out of his dreams. he couldn’t help but cum, grinding to a halt and unleashing his load inside of your pussy. he couldn’t stop himself from whining your name, grabbing onto your hips while you bled him dry of all of his cum for a second time. he always had more than enough for you.

for a moment or two, the two of you only stayed there. neither of you moved. his head rested against your chest, hearing and feeling your ragged breaths. when you finally remembered why you’d agree to all of this in the first place, you asked softly, “you aren’t going to show anyone, right?”

mark shook his head, murmuring into your neck, “your secret’s safe with me.” for now.

you released a little breath, which felt easier now, despite the weight on your chest.

when mark at last pulled out, he slipped your panties back in place, preventing his cum from leaking out of your cunt where he patted you with two fingers. “keep it there,” he said, stern.

you blinked, but the gaze in his eyes said that he was purely serious. maybe someone would see you leaving his dorm with his cum drizzling down your legs.

and they would know who you belonged to. mark was getting hard again just thinking about staking his claim to you. she’s all the rage, he thought. and she’s all mine.

#tw: dubcon #tw: coercion #mark lee smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #mark smut #nct dream hard hours #nct smut #nct 127 hard hours #nct hard hours #revehae fics

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h34rtbeat · 4 months

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STEP-BRO SHOTARO HC’S

pairings: elder!steprbo!shotaro x younger!afab!reader

warnings: stepcest, some non-con, some dub-con, p in v, vaginal fingering, condoms are used!, use of nii-chan

nsfw under the cut!

stepbro!shotaro who showed up with your new dad. You hated it, every bit of it. Your parents separated, but that wasn’t necessarily why you were upset. You didn’t want a new dad, you didn’t want a new family!

stepbro!shotaro who’s determined to make you feel comfortable with him, by any means necessary.

stepbro!shotaro who introduces himself kindly, telling you “I’m gonna be your new nii-chan, so let’s be nice to each other, yeah?” You could hear the amusement in his voice. Your mother laughed and patted your shoulder, muttering a “you two will get along so well.”

stepbro!shotaro who’s always smiling. You noticed during the introductory dinner you both had together, parents on either side while you two were forced to sit together.

stepbro!shotaro who after your parents so graciously decided to go out alone, is assigned with taking care of you.

stepbro!shotaro who’s actually way nicer than you thought. You sit on his bed, the sheets soft and pillow like. You end up chatting with him, finding out he’s a dancer. And he’s amazing too, showing you some of his videos.

stepbro!shotaro who uses your insecurities and shyness to his advantage ): he knows ur insecure about having to tell people about your new ‘family’. He knows you’re naturally a shy girl. Why don’t you let your nii-chan help you?

stepbro!shotaro who gets close to you, quickly. He wants to know everything about you. Your parents are so happy. What a good, big, step brother he was being!

stepbro!shotaro who tells you that you’ll become even closer, his hands moving around your breasts, slipping under your sweatpants.

“Nii-chan, I said no..” you mutter, squirming slightly.

“Hm..?” He looks down at where his hand is, rubbing your clit. “I thought you said you wanted to be closer, sis. C’mon, let your nii-chan become closer with you, yeah?”

“But I said no..” you tried pleading, but your thoughts were quickly cut off when his fingers started going in and out of you. You never felt so euphoric.

Shotaro was so hard, he could feel himself twitching. Your cute moans begging him to stop, the words ‘nii-chan’ slipping out of your mouth. He couldn’t get enough.

stepbro!shotaro who wastes no time in using your sweet pussy for his pleasure. This is what big bros did, right?

stepbro!shotaro who fingers you, pressing you against the wall. Tall frame against yours, your moans being covered by his hand. He wishes he could let you moan out loud. Too bad your parents are right next door.

stepbro!shotaro who wants to do it raw so badly. It pains him every time he has to use the stupid cherry flavored condoms for you to let him fuck you.

stepbro!shotaro who makes you suck him off, in the nastiest places. your parents made you pick him up from dance practice since you’re learning to drive? you’re sucking him off in his practice room.

stepbro!shotaro who fucks you against the mirrors of the room. records it sometimes, too. breaking his innocent stepsister seemed to be his hobby.

stepbro!shotaro who hides his perversion to everyone else with his cheesy smile. no one has to know what he does with his step-sis, right?

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whoreish-behaviour · 1 year

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Can you handle that?

If you haven't watched Scream 1996 (how?!) please pleasee go watch this scene - (Timestamp 3:25 specifically) :))

This is like a modern version.

Part 2

Ghostface x Fem!Reader

Warnings ; dubcon, coercion, voyeurism, guided masturbation, phone sex?, slight overstim

The popcorn popped gently in the background as you endlessly scrolled through your phone, looking for any horror movies that peaked your interest.

Boring.

Predictable.

Wayy too gory.

Dropping the phone onto the counter, you huffed in annoyance as you rested your head on your hand. The popping sound filled the otherwise silent kitchen, the house being empty of its usual life.

You raked your brain for ideas now you were finally alone. And now that you thought about it more, it had been a while since your hands traced your body as you dived head first into self-please.

Yeah, you knew exactly what you were going to do.

The thought alone already had your thighs squeezing together.

Just as your were turning to shut off the stove, your phone vibrated below you. Eyebrows furrowed, your eyes scanned the name.

No Caller ID.

Shrugging, you picked up the phone without a care and pressed the little green button.

'Hello?'

'Hello.' An unfamiliar voice responded back.

'Yes?'

'Who is this?' Hadn't he called you first..?

"I think you have the wrong number.' You pursed your lips.

'I don't think I do and you didn't answer my question.'

His suddern steriness made you nervous and your thighs shudder.

Jesus, had it really been that long?

'I think I’m gonna go, you definitely dialed the wrong number. See you.' You announced quickly and before he could even speak two words, you hung up.

Before you could even place the phone back on the counter, it vibrated again in your hand.

You hesitated on pressing 'answer', however your curiosity about what he wanted grew stronger until eventually you caved.

'Hello?' You hoped he didn't hear your voice quiver.

'We weren't finished talking, were we sweetheart?' The nickname made you swallow thickly and clench your fist.

'I think we definitely are now.' You tried to sound stern, not wanting some man over the phone to think he had any kind of control over you.

'Hang up again and you'll regret it.'

"Fuck I will." You argued back before doing exactly what he told you not to do.

You tossed the phone on the counter, before turning your back to it completely. Sure, he had shaken you but that was exactly what he wanted.

It was probably just an ego boost for him to freak woman out over the phone, picturing their scared faces in their own homes.

Fucker.

The phone vibrated consistency where it laid, however you stared mindlessly at the ceiling, cursing out the universe for ruining the mood.

You began to chew your nails, his words ringing in your head.

You'll regret it.

An incoming text made your ears prick, looking over your shoulder and down at the device. The text made your heart jump against your ribs.

Unknown Number - Answer the phone.

Unknown Number - Now.

The text didn't hold any explanation marks but you knew that he wasn't fucking around anymore. Your stomach sank as your ringtone yet again rang out.

Last chance, before what? You didn't know.

The phone was in your hand again, thumb pressing down on the screen as you brought it up to your ear.

'Whats got you all nervous over there? Never had a punishment before hm?' His implication made you shived with fear.

He couldn't see you, could he..?

'Or maybe its just because you haven't touched that sweet cunt of yours in a while..' You gasped out loud, pure shock and heat blooming on your face.

'You sick fuck-'

'Ah ah, thats no way to talk to me sweetheart.' He scowled, voice deep and dripping with dominance. Against your better judgement, your core responded.

'What do you want?" Your voice was quiet, all confident gone.

"I just wanna play a game is all.' His tone almost mocked you, as if you had no reason to be terrified.

'What kind of game?' You body shrink as you waited for his response. He seemed to think about it for a second, the silence killing you softly.

'It involves you taking off them soaked panties and sitting your pretty self on that counter for me.'

You froze as he once again rendered you speechless. You hand holding the phone shook as your mouth ran dry.

'Can you handle that?' He teased.

You didn't know what to be more disturbed by: his request or that your body throbbed in response. Theres no way you wanted this..right?

Would that make you just as bad as him?

You gulped, looking at all the windows - wondering if you'll see a glimpse of his shadow. That was if he was even watching you.

'Quit acting so modest, you think I haven't noticed that little stunt you've been pulling with them thighs of yours.' He almost whispered as if it was a dirty taboo thing (it was).

''I don't kn-'

'Now sweetheart.'

You don't know what possessed you. Maybe it was his veil of seduction or just your horniness but you found yourself thumbing at the band of your panties.

Would it be so bad? To have a stranger watch you touch yourself? It sounded like some corny porno.

'If you don't move within the next 2 seconds, I'll come tie you to the fucking table myself.' His voice dropped, his frustration becoming evident.

And that was more than enough for you to clamber up onto the cool marble, contrast to your hot clammy skin, hands already working your underwear down your sticky thighs.

It dropped to the floor with a disgustingly wet slap! You grimaced as you picked your phone up once again.

'Look who's finally behaving herself. Put me on loud speaker and face the patio window.' You heart beat up against your ribcage as you did as you where told.

'Mhm, look at youu.' He dragged out the 'you', adding a playfulness to the tension building. You shivered as his statement solidified that was he indeed watching you.

'Now spread those pretty thighs for me, let me see the mess I made.' You felt yourself drip even more as each word left his mouth.

You gently lifted your legs - feet resting on the counter with you and spread your knees apart.

The cold air against your pussy made you whimper as you clenched around nothing.

'Fuck, I knew you were a slut.' He groaned and you almost moaned right back at him from the sound alone.

'Trace them beautiful thighs for me sweet.' He spoke low and stern.

Your right hand trembled as you ran it down your stomach, across your hip and finally to your thigh, your left hand staying behind you to support your body.

You allowed just the every tips of your fingers to run across your skin, nerves making them shake slightly.

'Mhm good girl. Now get closer.'

You did, your whole body shaking from anticipation as your nails grazed where you need it most. Everything felt wet and you whined at the lack of stimulation.

'You need it that bad huh pretty girl? Go on, touch that pussy.' He pushed and you wasted no time.

You first ran your fingers down your slit, collecting that sweet arousal until it coated your fingers. You then moved up to your clit, rubbing your clit in quick circles.

'No, no - slower. Can't have you coming too quick, can we?' He tutted, redirecting you before you got too carried away. You moaned in response but obeyed nevertheless.

Your fingers slipped every now and then as your whined and moaned into the quiet again. The man on the phone encouraged you continuously, dragging you closer and closer to the edge.

'Good fucking girl.'

'Keep rubbing that puffy clit for me. That's ittt.'

'I can see you dripped down on the fucking table - you're so desparate.'

The only words that left your lips were 'Please' as you threw your head back, rubbing your clit harder until he scolded you to slow down once again.

'If you need it that bad, put a finger inside that tight cunt and fuck yourself 'till you cum.' You almost cried out in happiness as you slid your hands lower, a single finger entering you.

'Fuck I can hear that sloppy pussy through the phone, put me closer.' You responded with a quiet 'okay' and moved the phone closer to in between your legs.

'Go on, fuck that cunt.' He ordered and your once again threw your head back, moving your finger faster.

You curled your middle finger up against your G spot until you felt that pit in your stomach built up once again. This time you didn't care what he said, you were going to make yourself come.

You also slid your left hand in and rubbed your clit, your coordination slightly off but you didn't care, it was working.

'Come for me pretty girl.'

That was your final straw as your felt everything you had built crumble between your legs. Your hips bucked up against your own hands and you dropped back flat against the surface below you.

'Move your hands sweet girl, let me see.' He cooed at you and you did as you were told, bringing your hands up to rest on your chest.

'Fuck, your rubbed your poor pussy raw babe.' He faked sympathy but you were too busy trying to catch your breathe.

'But don't get too comfortable. Keep going.' You froze.

'W-What..?'

'You heard me, sit up and. Keep. Going.' He ordered and you couldn't even splutter a response. You back ached as you sat up, thigh trembling and twitching.

You slid your hand down, soaked with you arousal, back down to your pulsing core.

However, as your fingertips came in contact with your clit, your hips bucked away as the painful surge of overstimulation shocked through you.

'I-I cant.'

'You can.' He instantly spoke back, 'I wanna see you come from those pretty fingers again.'

You decided to leave your clit and slide lower, reentering your middle finger into your quivering core. But even then, you flinched away from sensitivity.

'It's too sensitive.' You whined, retracting your hand away completely.

It went quiet for a bit and you gulped, scared you had somehow pissed him off. Even though you had been good for him, all things considered.

'Fine,' You breathed out a sigh of relief and rested your head back.

'I guess I'll just have to do it myself.'

You bolted upright, uncomfortable as your pussy slid against the now warm counter.

'What did you just say..?'

'I'll give you a 5 minute head start, go hide and if I don't find you - you get off scot free.' He said, 'I promise not to peek.' his voice light and airy while you choked silently.

'But-'

'5 minutes.' He said before he hung up.

Please do not steal, copy or translate my work

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bleach-your-panties · 7 months

Text

💔the financial abuser - kingpin!touya todoroki x black! wife!reader

warnings: modern au/no quirks, drug family business, mention of past child abuse (y'all know the story), family illness (not touya or y/n), oral (m! receiving), car sex, pre-marital sex, dacryphilia, degradation, breeding kink, size kink, pregnancy, coercion, controlling/obsessive behavior, stalking, angry outbursts, choking (not in a sexual context), drug use, gaslighting, manipulation, verbal abuse, emotional abuse, mental illness, serious injury/hospitalization. read at your own risk!

☠️: some dialogue/actions inspired by true events.

💔: banner images from pinterest

💔: banner made by me with canva

💔post themes: ain't about the money - t.i. ft. young thug

soldier - destiny's child

throat baby (remix) -

brs kash ft. city girls

baby by me - 50 cent ft. neyo

whatever you like - t.i.

what you know - t.i.

superman - eminem

papers - usher

roses - outkast

gold digger - kanye west

💔9.7k words!

💔read in dark mode for best experience!

🖤yo. 🖤series. 🖤iida.

—-

----

If you ain’t no punk, holler,

“We want prenup!”

Yeah, that’s something that you need to have

‘Cause when she leave yo ass

She gone leave with half

___

You met your husband, Touya, at a hair salon in your neighborhood.

In the "hood", so to speak. You grew up in an impoverished neighborhood in one of the roughest cities to live in in the nation, with an 80% black population and a violent crime rate 95% higher than the national average.

Although it was dangerous as hell, the living conditions were less than desirable, and you were constantly surrounded by sketchy people, this was your home.

You'd grown up in this city and attended school here from elementary through university. Now at age 26, you're a successful chemical engineer, working as a consultant for the city's power plant.

Your parents are both deceased unfortunately; your father died in your childhood and your mother passed away after a long battle with breast cancer just after your senior year of university, so as far as family went, you only had your dear aunt, who was getting up in age.

She's your father's sister, having supported you throughout most of your academic life by helping you get back and forth to campus, attending all necessary parental conferences when your mother was too sick to, and finally, attending all of your graduation ceremonies. You are extremely thankful for her.

Present day, all you do is work, pretty much.

With your work, you usually have to keep your hair pulled back in a tight bun and covered with a protective hair cap. It was always a relief to be able to get your hair done and have your stylist rub her long, acrylic nails against your scalp while she lathered your natural tresses with sweet-smelling shampoo.

The soft ding of the bell hanging over the door alerted you to a newcomer's presence while you sat underneath the dryer reading one of the old Jet magazines that every salon always seemed to keep on hand.

"Good afternoon, ladies."

You looked up from your magazine and your dark brown eyes fell upon the most handsome man you had ever seen.

Tall, muscular frame, skin the color of freshly churned milk and hulking arms a collage of black ink. He was no shorter than 6'5'' at the least. You could tell by the way that he had to duck under the door frame to come inside the shop.

"Heyyy, Touya~" Your eyes moved around, pupils enlarging as you realized that every other woman in the shop had stopped whatever they were doing to greet this man.

Just who is this guy?

He walked further inside the small salon, his small, narrowed, turquoise eyes roaming over each and every feminine face before stopping at yours.

Oh no, he's walking over here!

Your face began to heat up; you hated being put on the spot and this man was just too gorgeous, you might faint!

He smirked at you and dug his big hands into the pockets of his black joggers.

"What's up, pretty? I think I would remember seeing a face as gorgeous as yours around here. What's your name?"

Your stylist came over then, smacking her lips at Touya and motioning for you to come over to her chair.

"Leave her alone, Touya. She wants nothing to do with the likes of you. She's a good girl, she's not interested in thugs."

That made your blush worsen and you lowered your head to the tiled floor, hoping that he'd just move on and bother one of the other women.

Touya laughed loudly. He brought his arms up to rest behind his hair, which you now noticed to be a brilliant white, just like freshly fallen snow.

His big biceps bulged and you could see that they were also covered in tattoos. He even had them all along his neck, trailing upwards to just under his chiseled jawline and then downwards, disappearing into his white V-neck.

"How do you know what she likes, Tisha? And I'm not a thug, I'm a well-respected businessman, I'll have you know."

The entire shop cracked up at that, making your anxiety lessen just as you looked up to further examine this man.

Unfortunately, he caught you looking and bit his lip at you. Usually, the gesture would've made you cringe, but it was different when he did it. It was sexy.

His lips were a little plump and when he bit them, you could see two glints of silver: a tongue stud and a lip stud.

"Y/n is my name." You said simply.

He smiled this time and squatted down so you didn't have to crane your neck to look at his face.

"Y/n, huh? Pretty name for a pretty girl."

You almost wanted to roll your eyes, but instead, you smiled.

"Thank you….Touya…"

He nodded slightly. More glints of silver when he made the gesture; he also had his right eyebrow pierced, three stud piercings in his nostril, and multiple silver hoops in each ear.

“God had no business making this man this damn fine.”

A deep chuckle broke you out of your thought process.

"Well, I appreciate that, beautiful. Tisha, don't charge her anything for her hair. I'll pay for it."

Aw, shit, did I say that out loud?! Nice going, Y/n!

"What? No! You don't have to do that, I can pay for myself!" You huffed. You knew this game all too well.

If he paid for your hair, he'd feel like you owed him something. Not a chance.

"Oh, girl hush and let that man pay for you. Keep that $750 in your pocket, shit." Tisha chuckled as she began to install your wig.

Touya handed her the money out of his wallet while grinning. He held his hands up, palms facing you in a gesture of surrender.

“I promise I don’t want anything in return, but maybe you wouldn’t mind grabbing breakfast with me one day? I know this great spot right down the street from the salon.”

You scoffed, now finally rolling your eyes at him.

“That’s still wanting something, pretty boy, even if it’s only a meal.”

Touya shrugged. “So that’s a no, then? Too bad. I won’t keep bothering you, though. See ya around, pretty girl.” He teased with a smug look on his face before turning and walking back out the door of the salon.

A few hours later, Tisha was done with your hair. She handed you a mirror so you could look at yourself.

“Thanks, Tish, it looks amazing!” You dug in your purse for your wallet so you could give her a tip, but she stopped you.

“Girl, what are you doing? Touya already paid me.” Eyebrows scrunched, you pushed the $20 bill into her hand anyway and got up out of the chair before she could protest.

“Just take it. Maybe next time I come I can get a discount on my lash installment.”

“Girl, you crazy! Get on out of here!”

You left the shop smiling to yourself. The bell tinkled over your head as you walked out into the bright sunlight.

Your smile immediately dropped when you walked over to your car and noticed that you had a flat tire.

“Oh no, what the hell?! When did that get there? Aw, man…”

The offending item that had punctured your tire was a long, rusty nail sticking out the side of it.

“Dammit, now I’m going to have to call a tow truck.” You sighed and pulled your iPhone out of your purse.

“Need some help, pretty?”

It was Touya - he’s still been here all this time?

He casually leaned up against a smoke-gray Range Rover with black rims. The brake calipers had been spray-painted a deep purple.

“Oh, Touya. There’s a nail in my tire, but it’s fine, I can just call-”

“I can wait with you for the tow truck and then take you home.” He offered. Getting up off the truck, he stalked his way over, taking long strides. In a second, he was standing right next to you, so close that you could smell his expensive cologne.

You didn’t know how to react, just kind of looking up at him with a stuck expression on your face.

“Uh, you really don’t have to…I could just call someone..”

“Why do that when I’m standing right here?”

A perfectly arched eyebrow raised. “Because I don’t know you? You could be a serial killer.”

You know now that he’s most likely a drug dealer, like that was any better…but yeah.

Touya just laughed at you and shook his head.

“Not gonna make it easy for me, huh? I like that. Keep it up, baby doll. I’ll get you sooner or later.” He walked back over to his truck and opened the driver-side door.

“At least come sit and chat with me until the tow truck comes?” You couldn’t continue to resist him, no matter how much you wanted to. Especially when he looked at you with those turquoise eyes.

—-

And that’s how your whirlwind romance began.

—-

Now I ain’t saying she a gold digger

But she ain’t messing with no broke niggas

Now I ain’t saying she a gold digger

But she ain’t messing with no broke niggas

Cutie the bomb, met her at a beauty salon

With a baby Louis Vuitton under her arm

She said, “I can tell you rock, I can tell by your charm

Far as girls you got a flock

I can tell by your charm and your arm”

But I’m lookin’ for the one, have you seen her?

—-

After that day, you and Touya began somewhat of a friendship.

Whenever you came to get your hair done, he’d somehow always be there and he’d always pay for your hair, nails, and lashes. Turns out that he owned the beauty salon, the diner that he offered to take you out to, and pretty much everything else on that strip.

One day after you got off of work, you were surprised to see his truck out in the parking lot.

He was waiting for you.

“Touya! Funny meeting you here, what’s up?” You put your hands on your hips.

“I want to take you on a date tonight.”

Your eyes bulged slightly, probably making you look like a fool, but Touya didn’t waver in his proposition.

"What do you say, pretty? Go out with me?"

You began weighing all the positives and negatives of going on a date with him. He could have a gaggle of jealous exes just waiting to catch him with another woman and raise hell, or one of his opps that was waiting to catch him slipping so they could blow his head off.

Tough decision, but eventually you folded and agreed.

—-

After your first date, you saw Touya more and more, seemingly everywhere you went.

The grocery store, the mall, restaurants. You even saw him across the street from your dentist's office one day while leaving an appointment.

Despite all of these seemingly random pop-ups, you found yourself undeniably attracted to Touya, which may have clouded your judgment just a tad.

So over the next several weeks, Touya would continue to show up at your job and surprise you with flowers, food from his diner, and lavish gifts.

This is how you would end up kneeling underneath the dashboard in Touya's Range in the parking lot of the industrial plant, hours after your shift had ended.

His black sweatpants were pulled down his thick, muscled thighs and pooled around his ankles while you struggled to take his huge cock into your mouth.

He regarded you with those cool, turquoise eyes, one large hand planted firmly on the top of your head as he guided you up and down on his hard shaft.

"Just like that, pretty. Such a perfect, slutty mouth. Yeah, you like being slutted out outside of your job? Not the perfect, innocent little scholar right now, are you?"

You hummed around his dick, saliva spilling from the corners of your mouth while you breathed steadily through your nose.

Touya's degradation never failed to turn you on, but sometimes you felt like he was just being mean intentionally.

His hands pressed down on your head harder, forcing you to take him further down your aching throat. Once he started, Touya wouldn't let up until he fucked your throat raw and tears streamed down your beautiful face, ruining your expensive makeup.

He loved to see you cry.

"There you go, baby. That's my good girl. Take my cock like only you can."

You moaned around him as best you could, but your jaw was aching and you felt like you'd pass out from lack of oxygen any moment now.

Suddenly, you were being pulled off of him by the roots of your hair. Touya dragged you over the center console into the backseat with you sputtering and trying to catch your breath.

"Down." He ordered and you immediately obeyed, getting on your hands and knees.

He clambered over you clumsily, his height preventing him from being able to get into the exact position that he wanted, but this would have to do.

"Arch."

Tattooed hands came down to hold your lower hips as soon as you arched your back.

You were already wet from sucking him off, but due to the sheer size of Touya's dick, it wouldn't be enough.

Hiking one foot up, he removed one hand to guide his dick into your hole. You immediately felt the burn.

"TOUYA! It's too much…" You moaned with your head turned slightly to the side to look over your shoulder at him.

"Not too much, baby. Never too much for you, my sweet girl. Take me, baby. Take my big fucking dick in your tiny little hole. I know you can do it."

Your freshly done acrylics scraped against the car door while Touya grabbed your expensive bundles up in one hand and forced your head completely flat on the floor with the other.

His pace was hard and rough, but he knew you were loving everything that he was giving you judging by your moans.

"Shit, pussy's so good baby, sucking me in so nice…fuuuccck!"

Of all of the women that he's fucked, you were the only one that had been able to take all of him without passing out.

It was a shock to you as well, how you hadn't passed out already from Touya's deep stroking. No doubt his fat tip was hitting your cervix; you could feel him in your damn stomach.

"Touya, I'm going to cum!" Your words were muffled, but he could just make out what you were trying to say and feel you clenching around him.

His eyes watched your ass move in waves as he pounded into you with everything he had, no doubt making the entire car shake from the sheer force of his thrusts.

“Come on, cum on this dick, baby. Make a mess on me, baby doll,” He cooed softly, leaning over you to press you against the floor as he rolled his hips into you.

"TOUYA!"

"Yes, scream my name, girl! SHIT!"

—-

The next thing you knew, you were waking up in the front of a large mansion with a high, wrought-iron gate around it. It was surrounded by acres of land, all to itself off in the countryside. A soft, fleece blanket covered your naked body.

"Where are we? Is this your house?"

"Fucked you so good you lost your memory, baby, but yes, this is my house."

"Why'd you bring me here?"

"Why wouldn't I? Why, you'd rather me fuck your brains out and just leave you passed out, only to wake up alone in a fucking parking lot in the dark? Come on, Y/n." You could see him roll his eyes through the rearview mirror.

Remaining silent, you just hugged the blanket tighter around your shoulders.

"So where do we go from here, Touya? What's next for us?"

He hit a button and the doors unlocked. Touya came around to open your door and then scooped you up into his strong arms, holding you close to his chest.

"I brought you here in hopes that you'd agree to be my girlfriend."

"What if I say no?"

"Then I have to kill you."

"WHAT!?"

"I'm just playing, girl. Damn. So will you? Will you be my baby?"

—-

Touya and you began dating that night, and not even six months later, he asked you to marry him.

And you said yes.

Now, you believed that you were in love with Touya. He treated you like a princess and showered you with expensive gifts: jewelry, cars, designer clothes, shoes, and bags. Whatever your heart desired. Not to mention he was sweet, attentive, caring, loving, and amazing in bed.

Little did you know that Touya had another side to him.

—-

Stacks on deck, patron on ice

And we could pop bottles all night, and,

Baby, you could have whatever you like

I said you could have whatever you like, yeah

Late-night sex, so wet, it's so tight

I gas up the jet for you tonight

And baby you can go wherever you like

I said you can go wherever you like, yeah

—-

While you were planning your wedding, many of your friends and family members came to you with concerns about your fiance. Including your beloved aunt.

“That boy is no good, Y/n. I’m telling you. Just look into those cold, soulless eyes of his. That boy is not right in the head.” She would rant as you sat on her living room couch with wedding books opened up all around you.

"Please, Auntie. Touya is a good guy. Sure, he's in the streets, but he'd never hurt me."

"You don't sound too sure of yourself."

Rolling your eyes, you had heard enough of the negativity.

Gathering up the books and magazines, you threw them into your new Louis Vuitton tote bag and pulled it onto your shoulder.

"I have to go, Auntie, or I'll be late for my dress fitting. I love you." You leaned down to give her a hug and kiss on the jaw.

"I love you, too, baby. Just please think about what I've been saying before you rush into this marriage, alright?"

"Alright, I hear you. I'm gone."

You stepped out of her house and closed the screen door behind you. Your black BMW M3 with the custom purple wheels sat pretty in the driveway. Touya had it custom-painted for you, said that everyone needs to know that you're his woman.

As you were backing out of the driveway, you heard your phone vibrating in your bag.

🖤🫶🏾Husband💜 would like to FaceTime…

You declined the request and hooked your phone up to the car mount, immediately calling him back on the phone.

"What the fuck, Y/n? Why are you declining my calls? Where the hell are you at? I've been calling you all damn day!" He barked through the receiver, making you cringe.

"I-I just got in the car, I'm leaving Auntie's house, on the way home now…"

You could almost hear him rolling his eyes on the other end.

"Yeah, and what did she want now? Still bitching about you marrying me?" He scoffed.

"Touya, stop that. She's only concerned about me, that's all."

"Yeah, whatever you say, Y/n. I know that your whole fucking family despises me, not that I give a fuck, though. I'm marrying you, not any of them."

"That's true, Touya, but it would be better if you at least tried to get along with them."

"Well, maybe they should stop judging a book by its cover and try to get along with me since I'm about to be your husband."

"I don't think that's how it works, but okay, Touya. I'll be pulling up in a little bit."

"Are you trying to rush me off the phone? I called because I want to see you before I leave tonight. Gotta fly to Tijuana for business."

Of course, 'for business' meant, to pick up a "shipment".

—-

Ayy, don't you know I got kis by the three

When I chirp, shawty chirp back

Louie knapsack where I'm holding all the work at

What you know about that?

I know all about that

—-

"And by 'see me', you mean get your dick wet. I have wedding stuff to do, baby. I have to fly to Paris to pick up my dress and how am I supposed to do that if you're taking the jet?" You complained.

"Just send your assistant to get it. I need you here to take care of me, baby doll, just like how I take care of you. Come on, now."

You wanted to retort that you needed to be there to try it on, but there was no arguing with Touya, especially when he wanted sex.

"Okay, I'm almost there. Tell the guards to open the gate."

—-

"Ohh shit, Touya, baby, give me that dick~"

"Yeah baby, you like that?"

And that's how the two of you went along for the rest of the night, Touya putting you in all different types of positions, beating your shit in.

He was always rough, pulling your hair and smacking your ass until it was raw and red.

He made sure to leave marks all over your neck and titties as well, marring your brown skin so that whenever any man looked at you, they'd KNOW that you were getting dicked down by a real motherfucking king.

"God Y/n, how do you keep this shit so tight? I'm gonna bust my load in you, fuck around, and get you pregnant tonight, girl."

"Mmm, if we don't stop now you're going to miss your flight."

"Fuck it," He chuckled, "I'll call Shoto to handle it."

Shoto, his younger brother who'd just finished college a semester ago. Touya had taken him underneath his wing to train him to be next in line for the family business.

His other siblings, Natsuo and Fuyumi, wanted nothing to do with this life and just worked everyday blue-collar jobs.

"Here, get on top of me. Ride this dick while I make the call."

You sighed but complied nonetheless and crawled up onto his lap as he reclined against the head of your shared California king bed.

"Hello?" You heard Shoto's bland, emotionless voice come over the receiver.

"Hey Sho, I need you to go handle that for me. Jet's already loaded and ready to go."

"What? Why can't you do it?"

"Because I told you to do it and I'm the boss."

"Yeah whatever, you're probably too busy fucking. Hey Y/n." He snickered, causing your cheeks to heat up. He knew his older brother too well.

Touya hung up on him and tossed the phone to the side, grabbing your hips and slamming you down onto his thick cock.

"You gonna let me get you pregnant, huh, baby? Gonna let me breed this little cunt, stuff you nice and full, and make you fat with my seed?"

You weren't quite sure that you were ready to have a child, but you were starting to get up in age and you and Touya are getting married, so what's the harm? You nodded.

"Yes, Touya. I love you. Make me a mommy."

—-

Have a baby by me, baby, be a millionaire

Be a millionaire, be a millionaire, b-be a millionaire

I don't play no games (I don't play no games)

So when I'm in that thang (when I'm in that thang)

Come see what I mean (see what I mean)

See what I mean, see what I mean, oh

I said lil mama put me on (baby, put me on)

Bet I'll have you gone (bet I'll have you gone)

Come see what I mean, see what I mean

See what I mean (see what I mean)

New music, new mood, new position

New erotic sounds, it's going down, now listen

I can hear your heartbeat, you're sweating

I could paint a perfect picture

I get deeper and deeper, I told ya I'd get ya

I'd work that murk that, just the way you like it, baby

Turn a quickie into an all-nighter maybe

Yo, I need you to be what I need, more than liquor and weed

I need you to maybe give me a seed

I need you to give me reason to breathe

I need you

—-

Time Skip, Wedding Day

"Are you sure that you want to do this?" Fuyumi asked you while she was putting your veil in your hair.

You only giggled softly, rubbing a hand over your small baby bump.

"I think it's a little too late to back out now, Fuyumi." She shook her head, making her white and red curls bounce.

"It's never too late to change your mind. You're not his wife, yet. Y/n, I love my brother with all of my heart, but honestly, you deserve so much better than him."

It was hurtful to hear, but you weren't shocked by the young woman's words.

Natsuo and Fuyumi were like your family; they also didn't think that you should marry Touya.

"I'm pregnant with his child, Fuyu, and I don't want to be a single mother. I love Touya with all my heart as well, and whatever he went through in the past, we can get through it together. I'll be there for him, til death do us part."

Fuyumi just let out a long sigh and tried to put on a smile.

"I can't say I didn't try, but okay. If this is what will really make you happy. Just please take care of yourself and the baby, no matter what. Protect yourself."

She handed you your bouquet just as the wedding music began playing.

"I'll see you at the altar."

She left, leaving you alone. You peeked out the door and saw the flower girls and ring bearers go down the aisle.

Taking a deep breath, you exhaled and tightened your hands around your flowers.

"Hey, beautiful."

Your head whipped around so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash.

It was Touya, standing there in his all-white suit with a purple silk dress shirt opened up to show off his tattooed chest.

"Touya!? What are you doing here, you're supposed to be at the altar!"

"Hmm, the wedding can't start without us, baby. I just wanted to give you something really quick."

He reached into the breast pocket of the suit jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper and a pen.

You watched him carefully.

"What is this?"

"A prenup."

"A what? Touya, I'm not signing a prenup minutes before our wedding! Why are you just bringing this to me now?"

He furrowed his white eyebrows, not liking the tone you were taking with him.

"I'm sorry, but who do you think you're talking to, Y/n? You should know not to ever raise your voice at me. Not even my own mother yells at me, baby doll, and you're damn sure not about to start. Now sign the goddamn prenup or I'm calling all this shit off."

No way! He wouldn't actually call the wedding off, would he? Not after all of your hard work, not after everything you'd been through in the past couple of months.

Your dear aunt had been diagnosed with coronary artery disease a few months ago and hadn't been doing too well. She'd been in and out of the hospital frequently and even had to leave her job because of it.

You begged Touya to hire an in-home nurse to care for her and, after much disagreement, he finally let you.

Why would he do this to you now? Moments before your special day?

With your lower lip wobbling and tears beginning to spill out of your eyes, you took the paper with a shaky hand and signed your signature on the line, initialing where it directed you to.

Touya chuckled darkly once you were done and took it back from you, stuffing it into his pocket.

Why would he make you sign a prenup? You didn't know much about this type of stuff, but usually, prenups weren't good.

However, you couldn't fathom losing Touya or your fairytale life. You were finally getting everything that you ever wanted.

A family.

"Hey, don't cry, baby doll. You know I'll always take care of you, right?"

He moved in to kiss you, his hand covering your bump and rubbing it softly. With his pinky, he swiped the tears from under your eyes, careful not to smudge your face makeup.

You nodded slowly and he smiled at you.

"I love you, Y/n."

With that, he left the room.

—

Five Years Later

Being married to Touya was not at all how you expected it to be.

After quitting your job and becoming a full-time housewife, your life seemed to go into a downward spiral.

While you were dating, you’d found out that Touya and his siblings had grown up in an abusive household where his father beat him, his siblings, and their mother. His mother had had a hard time coping with what she'd been through, so the four siblings had agreed to have her committed to a mental health care facility.

During their childhood, in a fit of psychosis, their mother threw a pot of boiling water on Shoto, disfiguring the left side of his face. An ugly, red-marred patch of skin now covered the once-perfect porcelain.

After that incident, Touya left home and never looked back.

He talked very little about his father, so what you did know, you had to find out from Fuyumi, who still maintained limited contact with their father. Neither Natsuo nor Shoto talked about the man.

Many times, you had tried to persuade Touya to get therapy in order to deal with his past traumas, but he never listened. If anything, he would become completely enraged whenever you would broach the subject.

It also didn't help that Touya was now even more deeply involved in the drug lifestyle.

At first, it didn't bother you as much as it should have, but as time went on things just got worse and worse.

Your son, Takuya, was now five years old and you really didn't want him exposed to the people and dealings that Touya was involved in.

Takuya would ask you many questions:

Mommy, why is Daddy never home?

Who are these strange people in our house?

Why can't my friends come over to spend the night?

Why does Daddy have flour underneath his nose?

Yes.

Touya had been abusing cocaine ever since your third year of marriage.

He said that it helped ease his mind. Made him forget the past.

A knock came on his office door, causing the turquoise-eyed man to look up at it.

"What, Y/n?" He asked in irritation once he looked up and saw you standing there, just staring at him.

"Are you seriously getting high in the middle of the day?"

Spread out over his desktop were multiple, identical lines of freshly chopped cocaine. With a rolled-up hundred-dollar bill, Touya closed off one of his nostrils while he used the bill to snort the white powder into the other.

He did it effortlessly, almost elegantly.

"Touya, really? What if Takuya ever walked in and saw you doing this shit? You know he's getting older now, and he's started asking me questions about your…habit."

Touya didn’t seem deterred; better yet, he most likely hadn’t heard a word that you’d said as he focused on the feeling of the drug entering his system.

“Did you fucking need something, Y/n? If not, then kindly get the fuck out. I’m busy.”

You gave him an incredulous look but bit your tongue and nodded.

“I need you to sign the check for Takuya’s school tuition so I can mail it off today.”

Touya sucked his teeth and sniffled. With the back of his tattooed hand, he wiped his nose roughly.

“Of course, that’s what you always need. Money. “

With a soft sigh, you prepared yourself for one of his rants. On top of abusing drugs, Touya had been diagnosed with, post-traumatic stress disorder, dissociative identity disorder, and bipolar disorder.

You’d seen him dissociate firsthand, especially when he was high. You figured that the alternate personality that he’d created stemmed from his traumatic childhood. This persona’s name was Dabi, and Dabi was not nice by any means. He was awful, much worse than normal, agitated Touya.

If it wasn’t for you insisting on having genetic testing done while you were pregnant, you’d have never found out what mental ailments your husband had been suffering from.

“Well…if you hadn’t taken my name off of all the accounts, I could have done it myself and not have to disturb you while you’re taking care of business.” You finally snipped. You’d had enough of Touya’s drug abuse, verbal abuse, and emotional abuse.

You had gotten sick of him always taunting you, downplaying you, and making you feel as if you were less of a person because you had left your job, your family, and everything that you knew, in order to cling to him and become his wife.

He made you feel low, lower than the earth beneath your feet, and you had had enough of him.

To pour even more salt into your stinking, infected wounds, Touya treated you like a child.

You had an allowance, you had to call and check in with him anytime you left the house, and he didn’t let you go anywhere without him or one of his guards.

It hadn’t always been like this. No, this behavior only began once you attempted to leave him the first time.

You’d tried to leave Touya many times over the past five years, but your efforts were always in vain. No matter what you did or where you tried to go, he would always find you and bring you back, literally kicking and screaming. After a while, you just decided to give up, telling yourself that you’d never be able to get away from him.

—-

Mmmm

You high, baby? (Yeah)

Yeah? (Hahaha, talk to me)

You want me to tell you something? (Uh huh)

I know what you want to hear

—-

The veins in his neck bulged and he turned on you, turquoise eyes flashing with lightning.

“Did you just talk back to me?”

The blood froze in your veins as Touya stood up, calmly pushing his desk chair back. The wheels screeched eerily across the wooden floor. Touya stomped towards you like a panther, waiting to attack and kill its prey.

“T-Touya- I…”

One hand was all it took to constrict your breathing. Touya held you up like a doll, the muscles in his arm barely flexing as he slammed you against the wooden double doors of the office entrance, making them rattle violently. Your little legs thrashed as you moved your body, attempting to get Touya off of you, to no avail.

“Bitch, how dare you disrespect me, after all I’ve done for you. I took you out of that shitty neighborhood you were living in, took care of you and that fucking brat, took care of your whole fucking family despite them cursing the very ground that I walk on. This is how you repay me? Flapping your fucking lips at me? HUH?!?!”

He yelled directly in your face, making you squint your eyes as spit flew from his lips. His face was so close to yours that you could see up his nostrils, see the white residue from the hit he’d just taken.

If he didn’t let you down soon, you’d pass out. Touya soon realized this, and he let you go, let your body drop to the ground with a ‘thud’ while he stepped back and regarded you without a smidgen of concern.

Your hands flew to your throat as you coughed violently. Your chest burned as you tried to regain the precious oxygen that your lungs had been deprived of for far too long.

—-

You know you want me, baby

You know I want you, too

They call me Superman

I'm here to rescue you

I wanna save you, girl

Come be in Shady's world

(Ooo, boy, you drive me crazy)

Bitch, you make me hurl

—-

"You act like…," you wheezed, then halted to take in a few more deep breaths, "you act like I wasn't somebody before I met you. Like I wasn't on my own, living independently and happily before you came along and messed it all up!"

He must have found your lamentation amusing, because he chuckled, deep in his chest.

"Oh Y/n…when have you ever been independent? Your whole life you've always depended on someone. Your aunt, your family, your friends, and then me. You think you're so special, because what, you went to school and got a degree?"

Said degree was displayed on the back wall of his office. He'd let you hang it there after buying an expensive, mahogany wooden frame lined in real 24k gold for it. A gift for your first year wedding anniversary.

Now the object seemed to offend Touya. He made a beeline for it and snatched it off the back wall before sending it hurling across the room, narrowly missing you before it went crashing against the wall next to the door and shattering.

You whimpered in fear as he began walking back over to you.

Kneeling down so that he was eye-level with you, much like he'd done at your first meeting in the salon, he glared at you with eyes colder than Antarctica.

"How's that degree working for you now, Y/n? You're nothing more than a stupid slut willing to open her legs for the first man that showed her any shred of attention. You're pathetic, and I can't stand the fucking sight of you." He said lowly, the baritone of his voice rumbling in your ears.

You buried your head in your hands, the tears flowing freely down your firearms as you tried to shield yourself from him, from his rage. His hatred.

It wasn't like Touya had never yelled at you before or threw fits when he was high, but this was the first time in five years that he'd ever put his hands on you.

And it would be the last.

"That's it, Touya! I've had enough! You're impossible and I'm finished dealing with you and your issues. I'm leaving for good this time."

Touya laughed at you again. He just kept laughing for a long time.

"That's really funny. Have fun trying to leave me with no money and nowhere to go. You'll be back. You always come back, Y/n, because you can't survive without me."

Your tear-soaked face curled up in disgust; you couldn't believe what this man was saying to you right now.

"Since you're so adamant on leaving though, you can go ahead and get the fuck out."

"Pardon?"

He stood to full height again.

"Did I stutter? Get the fuck out of my house, right now, Y/n."

"No! We're married, which makes this my house, too! You can't just put me out!"

He must have thought that you still weren't getting enough oxygen to your brain, because Touya grabbed you by the arms and hoisted you up.

You kicked, screamed, and clawed at him all the way, almost causing him to drop you a few times, but finally he made it to the large ornate doors leading to the outside of the estate.

"NO! TOUYA, NO! NO!"

—-

They call me Superman

Leap tall hoes in a single bound

I'm single now

Got no ring on this finger now

I'll never let another chick bring me down

In a relationship? Save it, bitch

Babysit? You make me sick

Superman ain't saving shit

Girl, you can jump on Shady's dick

—-

Thank goodness Takuya was at school and not here to witness the scene of his father throwing his mother out of her own house.

"I hate you, Touya! You hear me?! I HATE YOU! You won't get away with this!"

Was the last thing the snow-haired man heard before he slammed the door in your face. You heard all of the locks and the deadbolt click.

With fury, you kicked at the closed door with all your might.

You were kicked out now, with nothing. Not your purse, wallet, clothes, phone, or anything. Only your Apple watch on your wrist, which you guessed might be a bit of help.

Looking down at it, you noticed that it was charged to 75%, which was good. You'd have time to get to a charger.

With an indignant huff, you rushed down the many stairs leading from the house and into the driveway where your car was parked.

It would be a dumb idea to get in and try to drive it, because Touya more likely than not had a tracker installed into it. However, you had an idea.

—-

Don't put out, I'll put you out

Won't get out, I'll push you out

Puss blew out, popping shit

Wouldn't piss on fire to put you out

—-

See, though you had been quite gullible the past five years, believing that your sham of a marriage was pure and true, and that your bastard of a husband was your Prince Charming, you were still a college-educated woman and had plenty of good sense to use.

When Touya started getting high every other day, you began stealing his money and putting it away when he wasn't looking.

Small amounts here and there that you passed off with simple excuses that Touya found to be believable. No way his dumb little housewife would ever think to steal from him.

How wrong he was.

You had accumulated a good amount over the last three years, but when you first tried to leave Touya, he became suspicious of you, thus limiting your access to the money by taking your name off the accounts and giving you a weekly allowance.

How stupid of him.

You took a portion of that money and stored it away every month, in case you ever needed it. In case you finally got the courage to leave Touya and never look back.

The day had finally come.

Pulling up to your sister-in-law's house, you waited for her to come to the door. Looking down at your Gucci slides, you felt embarrassed about the situation that had just occurred.

"Y/n! What are you doing here? What's happened?"

With the look on your face, she immediately knew that something terrible had happened and that her elder brother was more than likely the cause of it.

She moved aside so you could come inside. You sat on her couch and put your hands in your lap.

After swallowing down the lump in your throat, you began to speak.

"Touya…he, um, he locked me out of the house."

"HE WHAT?!"

You had to cover your ears slightly from the sheer volume of her exasperated voice.

"Yeah. We got into an argument and he tossed me out onto my ass like Jazz from The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air."

Fuyumi didn't laugh at your joke; instead, she gave you a look of sympathy.

"Y/n…I'm sorry you had to go through that…" Her voice began to crack and you gave her a questioning gaze.

"Was he…?" She couldn't even finish the question.

You immediately understood and nodded.

"Yes. He was high."

"And where was Takuya?"

"He's at school."

A sigh of relief from the white-haired woman. "Thank the heavens."

Fuyumi moved from her spot on the opposite couch to come over and give you a tight hug. You sank into her warm embrace and hugged her back, more tears bubbling up as feelings of shame, stupidity, and anger came to the surface.

"It's okay, Y/n. It's all going to be okay. I feel like this is my fault. I should have tried harder to get you to leave Touya. I should have-"

You stopped her from talking by pulling away from the hug and giving her a small glare.

"Don't you dare try to blame yourself for his actions. He's a grown ass man, yet he acts like a child. Don't worry, Fuyumi. This time I'm done with him for good. It's time for me to move along in my life with my child and leave Touya's miserable ass behind. I tried everything to help him and all he did was treat me like shit for five years."

Fuyumi was a bit stunned to hear you speak with so much initiative, but she nodded, nonetheless.

"If you need anything, anything at all, don't hesitate to call me or Natsu. We want what's best for you and Takuya. Always."

—-

After talking with Fuyumi for a little while longer, she ended up calling Natsuo over, who works as a mechanic.

With a little trial and error, he managed to remove the tracker from your car. Touya had hidden it meticulously, but he was no match for Natsuo's years of experience with machinery.

You finally bid your brother-in-law and sister-in-law goodbye so you could go and speak to your lawyer before picking up Takuya from school.

—-

I can't get to work on time

Can't believe the words to him I just said

Who the hell argue and fight

Like dogs at six in the morning?

I know it's gonna be some more shit tonight (oooh)

Our pastor's calling, telling me I done went too far,

And I'm sitting round town and my friends can't recognize me

Cause I took a chance on love

It's like, I'm dying (ooo dying)

For you, I gave my heart

And turned my back against the world

Because I was your girl, girl, girl

I done damn near lost my mama

I done been through so much drama

I done turned into the woman I never thought I'd be

I'm ready to sign them papers, papers

—-

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Todoroki, but the prenup that you signed is very much valid. According to this, he really doesn't have to give you anything."

You blew out a frustrated breath. How could you have been such a fool? If Touya wanted to call the wedding off because you wouldn't sign, you should have just let him.

It would have saved you a world of heartache and headache, that's for sure.

"So, there's absolutely nothing that I can do?" You asked the well-dressed man in front of you.

You fiddled with the rose gold, 5-carat diamond aquamarine pear-shaped ring set on your left ring finger.

“What about our son? Did he say anything about providing for him?”

The brunette man pushed his glasses from the bridge of his nose up to his eyes.

“Despite his trying to implement a clause in which he wouldn’t have to pay child support since the child was conceived outside of the marriage, as the child’s biological father he’s still legally responsible for providing for Takuya. Though he could contest his paternity and ask for a DNA test.” He set the paper on the desk and looked at you.

“That slimy bastard…he did everything in his power to make sure that I’d never try to leave him. He’s sick….”

“Again, I’m very sorry, Mrs. Todoroki. I wish that there was more that I could tell you.”

“I just can’t believe this…Touya had all of this planned from the very start. He came to me in a moment where he knew I couldn’t refuse him. He knew that I needed to lean on him at that time and he took advantage of me.”

“What do you mean by 'took advantage of you'?” The man in front of you sat up straighter in his chair, slightly leaning his body towards you.

“Well, I never expected that Touya would ask me to sign a prenup. He never made it a priority to discuss how we’d do finances; he just always said that he’d take care of me. Which is why it was such a shock that he made me sign the prenup minutes before I was about to walk down the aisle to marry him.”

“He asked you to sign a prenup minutes before your wedding? He coerced you and didn’t even give you time to seek your own legal consultation. I’m glad you told me this, Mrs. Todoroki; this changes everything.”

Could this be it? Could this finally be your way out of this marriage?

“And that’s not all! I was pregnant with Takuya at the time and my hormones were all over the place. My aunt…she’d been very sick as well, and it was just an overall bad time for me. I w-wasn’t thinking straight…I-I just…I just wanted someone to be there for me. I didn’t want Touya to call off the wedding.”

You cursed yourself for crying over this again, but speaking about it out in the open really made you realize how badly Touya had manipulated you. From the very beginning of the relationship he tried to break you down and make you weak for him, and you let him. Your lawyer handed you some tissue from the box on the desk.

No more weakness. No more vulnerability. It was time to be strong; you had a child to raise and he needed his mother.

It was time to fight for what was rightfully owed to both of you.

“Coercion and signature under duress; oh, he’s done for. I’ll make some calls to get this in front of the judge as soon as possible. Don’t worry, Mrs. Todoroki, I’ll handle everything from here.”

—-

You left the law office with a massive weight lifted off of your heart.

Takuya's private school was only a few minutes away if you took the interstate, so, after picking him up, you'd probably just go back to Fuyumi's house for the night.

"God, I hate this bend in the road, it makes me feel like I'm going to fall off into a ditch." You grimaced while holding the steering wheel carefully.

When you were almost around the corner, a black SUV flew past you at top speed and caused your car to lose control and spin in circles several times before crashing into oncoming traffic.

—-

You had to have blacked out from the impact - were you dead?

No, your hearing was still intact. You could hear something in the distance: footsteps.

Your head was bent at an odd angle and you could feel the blood dripping down your forehead.

"Well, would you look at my little broken doll, all bent out of shape. It's a miracle you aren't dead, huh? That was a nasty accident you had."

With you not being able to turn your neck to the sound of his voice, Touya had to step into your line of sight. He looked down into your eyes, his own turquoise ones shining with mirth. They seemed darker, more sinister.

Then it dawned on you.

This wasn't Touya.

It was Dabi.

"W-w-what's wrong…with you…? You're…. you're insane…"

That was the final thing you said before slipping into unconsciousness.

—-

Dabi just watched your unmoving form with an evil grin plastered across his face. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and lit one.

With his free hand, he reached out to stroke your face while his eyes glowed.

"I know you want, me baby. I think I want you, too. I'm here to save you, girl. Come be in Shady's world. I wanna grow together, let's let our love unfurl. You know you want me, baby. You know I want you, too. They call me Superman, I'm here to rescue you."

With a flick of his wrist, he threw the cigarette down and the entire car caught on fire.

—-

You want what you can't have

Ooo, girl, that's too damn bad

Don't touch what you can't grab

End up with two back hands

Girl you just blew your chance

Don't mean to ruin your plans

—-

911, what's your emergency?

"Yes, my wife has been in a terrible car accident! Her car caught on fire and she was trapped inside. I-I pulled her out, but she's unconscious and I think her neck might be broken!

Okay sir, I'm going to need you to get her to a safe location and wait for help to arrive. Avoid moving her anymore and try to keep her neck supported.

"O-okay."

—-

Three Months Later

You ended up with three severed vertebrae in your neck. The doctors still don't know how you didn't end up paralyzed or dead, but at this point it must have just been a miracle from God.

Touya brought you to the hospital under the guise of the distraught husband and no one seemed to suspect anything.

Except for Natsuo, Fuyumi, and your lawyers.

Your family was just grateful that you were alive and didn't think to question how the accident may have occurred, though Touya didn't get away completely scot-free.

Your lawyer was the number one accusatory figure when your divorce case went to court. He argued that Touya had been following you, tracking your phone, and was angry that you were finally filing for divorce from him.

That you were going to actually leave him this time.

Touya had an amazing defense lawyer that continued to play him up as the distraught husband; Touya knew what he was doing when he decided to stay at the scene of the accident and "help" you. Your other lawyers and Touya's went toe to toe in the courtroom for days.

—

Caroline, Caroline

See Caroline, all the guys would say

She's mighty fine, mighty fine

But mighty fine only got you somewhere half the time

And the other half either got you

Cussed out or coming up short

—-

The jury was at a deadlock.

It wasn't an easy fight. More days in the courtroom with you sitting there in a neck brace, your body bandaged beneath your clothes from the burns you sustained in the fire.

A miracle that you were even alive.

Finally, after two weeks of court, Touya was convicted of attempted murder.

His defense lawyer tried to go for an insanity plea which was supported by him staying at the accident scene and bringing you to the hospital afterwards.

The prosecutor argued that Touya, though aware of his mental illness, never sought the proper help and continued to mentally and emotionally torture and abuse his wife.

These claims were supported by Natsuo and Fuyumi, who both agreed to testify on your behalf since you couldn't speak up for yourself due to spousal privilege.

More deliberation, more waiting.

At last, there was a breakthrough.

The insanity plea fell through and Touya finally decided to just plead guilty.

—-

Regardless, we don't want to get involved with all them lawyers

And judges, just to hold grudges in the courtroom

I wanna see your support bra, not support you

—-

He was called to the witness stand, where he told all the grueling, gritty details of the past five years of your marriage. As much as he didn't want to let you go, he just couldn't bring himself to drag this battle out any farther. After hearing his testimony, the jury found him guilty and he was sentenced to fifteen years to life in prison.

So now, here you are, sitting in front of the man that you once loved with all of your heart.

Dressed in an orange jumpsuit, wrists and ankles shackled, Touya regarded you with a downtrodden expression.

"Y/n… I'm sorry for everything that I put you through. I just want you to know one thing: I'll always love you and my son."

With a dry chuckle, you shook your head.

"I don't think you know the meaning of the word love, Touya."

You pushed the divorce papers with your wedding rings situated on top of them towards him and nodded up at the guard standing behind him.

The elder man unlocked Touya's wrist cuffs so the inmate could sign his name where required. He didn't even read over it.

The shackles went back on immediately, and, with one last look, the guard escorted Touya out of the room and back to his cell.

—-

The sunshine was bright on your face as you walked out of the prison. A funny thought crossed your mind and caused you to giggle out loud.

For years, you'd felt like a prisoner under Touya's watchful gaze.

Oh how the tables have turned.

—-

I know you like to think your shit don't stank

But lean a little bit closer, see

Roses really smell like booo-booo-ooo

Yeah, roses really smell like booo-booo-ooo

—

a/n: i feel like i was starting to drag this out, so I just had to hurry up and end it 💀 i still think it came out pretty good though! i had to do a lot of research for the legal part and i still don't think it's all correct, but oh well! i ain't no damn lawyer/judge!😂

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touyastearss · 1 year

Text

Intimidation (Shigure x F!Reader Smut)

Shigure Sohma x Female!Reader

WARNING: dubcon, age gap, manipulation, corruption, loss of innocence, exhibitionism, dacryphilia, loss of virgnity, slut shaming, toxic relationship

///

You find Shigure scary. He likes that.

///

"Um....Shigure?", you spoke meekly, slightly nervous to be interrupting him during his work. He was sitting at his desk, body facing you and the door that you hid behind. The man sat writing had given you no reason to feel intimidated so far, always kind and welcoming, despite the distance you felt between the two of you that wasn't there with Kyo or Yuki, though you just brushed it off as being due to age. Shigure was, by all means, an adult. And that wasn't to say that you weren't- you'd passed that mark over a year ago, but Shigure was different. He was experienced in life outside your little village, known people far different than you ever had, and had so much more experience in life. Maybe that's why you'd always felt so intimidated by him.

Maybe.

You felt your face drop at this, you'd spent the last few days planning a movie day for the three of you to spend time with each other again, seeing as they'd both been so busy these last weeks. But of course, the timing had to be unfortunate.

You tensed slightly as he looked up, reading glasses hanging off the edge of his nose as he sat in less than professional clothing, though you doubted it really made a difference, to say he was a writer.

"Yes, Y/N?" He called out, voice laced with an expectant tone that suggested you might be wasting his time. You gulped, shaking your head.

"Sorry for interrupting you, I didn't-"

"Come into the room. I can't hear you very well through the door, believe it or not", he said dryly, a sarcastic comment that had your face heating up, embarrassment creeping through your body. You stepped inside, hands reaching to pull at your sleeves as you shifted uncomfortably on your feet under his gaze.

"Sorry, I was just wondering if you'd seen Kyo by any chance?" He didn't move his gaze from your face, and you had no doubt that your discomfort was clearly visible, but he made no sign of acknowledgment, instead simply shaking his head impassively at you.

"No, I'm afraid I haven't, though I do vaguely remember him mentioning something about going out earlier- Yuki too."

You froze for a second, slightly taken aback, before making your way over to his desk and standing awkwardly beside him. He leaned back on his chair, eyeing you with a scrutinizing gaze. You played with the hem of your skirt, a motion he picked up on quickly.

"Oh." You simply replied, shoulders slumping and a small frown on your face.

"Why? Am I not good enough for your entertainment? Too old and boring?", he teased, feigning offense with a clench of his heart.

"Oh, no, no", you protested, awkwardly shaking your hands in denial, "that's not what I meant. I just..." You trailed off, heart beating quickly under Shigure's gaze. He sighed, removing his glasses and folding them neatly beside his paper, before beckoning you over with a long finger.

"Are you nervous, Y/N?" The wholly confrontational question had you stunned, and you found yourself unsure whether or not to nod. You shook your head lightly. "Do I make you nervous?" You shook your head again, this time quicker, and in response received a light-hearted laugh. "I think you're lying to me. I think you're very nervous right now," he leaned forward, hands interlocked as he rested his chin on top, a charming smile directed your way. "And why might that be?". This time you didn't miss the smirk pulled on his lips, and you exhaled shakily as you looked into his grey eyes. "No answer? Maybe I should show you I'm not so scary, hmm?" He was silent for a moment, grey eyes watching yours in amusement. "Come sit here", you looked down at his hand patting his lap, eyes flickering back and forth between his devious smile and the gentle patting motion.

You reluctantly pulled your head back, avoiding his gaze as you looked up, but was taken by surprise when he pressed his lips to yours lightly, a kiss that hardened as the seconds passed, until you pulled back, gasping for breath. You stared at him, eyes wide in wonder, and he stared down at you, his own laced with lust. You leaned back in, hands grabbing his body as you clumsily kissed him, Shigure almost laughing at your obvious inexperience. His hands pulled at your clothes as you whined in his grasp. His fingers reached under your skirt, sliding along the thin fabric before pulling back with a smirk. "You're wet", he commented, a mischievous glint in his eye as he watched you squirm uncomfortably.

You'd never gotten this close with Shigure before; not even with Kyo or Yuki, and whilst you may have been physically innocent, you weren't blind as to what his motions insinuated. But for some reason, it didn't throw you off, it didn't scare you. Instead, you found yourself stepping closer to him, straddling yourself over his lap, and facing his chest.

"You know, I don't think you're scared of me after all. I think it's something else." His words only proved to confirm your thoughts, the shame in knowing your feelings for him were so obvious was too painful. You leaned into his chest, hiding your face in embarrassment as he laughed down at you, hands soothing on your back. "It's okay, baby," the nickname felt sinful on his lips, and you shuddered at his voice being so close to your ear, "don't feel embarrassed, you're too pretty to hide your face."

He reached down, hands finding their way under your skirt before skillfully removing your panties. He brushed his fingers lightly over your sex, fingers pressing down on your clit gently, making you squirm in his grasp. He tightened his hold on you, fingers rubbing tight circles with the bundle of nerves. You were heating up, tense body gradually relaxing in his caged arms as an undeniable pleasure took over.

Something about your inexperience was so delicious to him. You had no idea what you were doing, and he was prepared to use this to his full advantage. He wanted to watch you squirm underneath him. "You've never done this before?" He asked softly, hands trailing their way down your body lightly, and you shook your head again, body trembling on his lap. His touch felt good, it felt right. And you wanted more. But suddenly he pulled away, a frown on his face as he looked down at you. "Thought so. Guess I'll have to go gentle then, huh? Always a pain." He tsked, his act going way over your head as your eyes opened in panic. You grabbed the sleeves of his shirt, pulling his hands back to your body with wide eyes.

"N-no...it's okay. You don't have to..." You spoke softly, not wanting to be a burden to the man that had taken you in. You were sure you could handle whatever was to come. His hands fell upon your sides again, a smile taking over his face as he looked down at you.

"Yeah? You're gonna take it like a good girl?", you nodded quickly, "That's what I like to hear."

His fingers slowly dipped down, pressing gently as his fingers entered you, thrusting into you at a slow, steady pace. You stifled a squeak at a particularly good thrust, hands jumping up to clamp over your mouth in sheer embarrassment. You prayed he hadn't heard it as his fingers worked their way in and out of you, but the sudden stop told you otherwise.You looked up at Shigure with a confused, desperate look, hips moving desperately to regain the feeling he had taken away, and this time you couldn't hold in your whine when he pulled them out completely.

You felt your body tightening up, legs shaking uncontrollably at the sudden intense feeling."Oh my God, stop, Shigure, 's too much, please", his speed increased as his eyes lit up cruelly, pulling your gaze to meet his as you continued babbling your pleas. "Shigure, no, I think, ah, I think I'm-"

"Why?", you asked, tears of frustration soon going as you saw the look on his face. He was utterly unimpressed, displeased and he looked irritated.

"So now you want to make noise?" he questioned, eyebrows furrowing harshly. "Don’t try that again. I want to hear you, understood?" You nodded dumbly, surprised at the revelation, but for some reason, he still looked displeased. "I said," he pulled his fingers together, lightly slapping at your clit, causing you to jolt in his hold, "understood?".

"Aah- yes, yes, understood, Shigure, I'm sorry", you cried out moaning when his fingers re-entered you without a word, harshly prodding deep into your pussy.

You came with a scream so loud it would have left you mortified had you been focused on anything other than your release. Shigure's eyes rested on your face the whole time, cock aching badly as he watched your eyes roll back. You panted heavily, body loose as Shigure shifted you to sit above him. "That was good, right? So now you're gonna make me feel good, right baby?" He mused, and you nodded dumbly, mind sluggish in your post-orgasm haze. "Yeah?" he breathed our, "Good girl". He reached down, letting his cock free and guiding it to your slit. He didn't hesitate, pulling you down immediately, and you moaned out again.

"Good girl, just a little more", you whined uncomfortably as he lowered you down on his cock, muscles clenching at the unfamiliar feeling of being full, eliciting a deep groan from the man behind you. His teeth gritted as you took him to the base, tears welling up in your eyes. His hands tightened around your waist, holding you in place.

You felt Shigure slow down, his rhythm faltering as you regained your attention a little bit, hearing the front door open. Panic set in as you turned round to face the man holding you, desperately mouthing at him to get off of you. You watched in fear as a sly look appeared on his face, hips once again lifting you up and down on his cock, albeit much more gently, as you heard Kyo and Yuki making their way into the house. You clasped your hands over your mouth at a particularly deep thrust, pussy clenching down tightly. You almost screamed as you heard footsteps approaching the door, hands gripping tightly to the table once again as the door opened.Shigure stilled completely.

"I'm feeling nice today, baby, so I'm gonna give you a minute to get used to it, yeah?", he held you there for a moment, your fingers gradually unclenching from the table in front of you as you got used to the feeling. He bucked his hips up slightly, and you let out a breathy gasp. And then he lifted you up, the drag of his cock against your walls agonizing. Before dropping you back down again forcefully.

"FUCK!", you shouted, eyes clenching as he created a rhythm, lifting you up and down with no hesitation. You cried out, voice loud and desperate in the otherwise empty house. You could feel his cock reaching deep into you, and he sped up into an almost brutal pace, hands reaching out to grab your breasts, kneading the flesh roughly before his fingers delved underneath; rough, calloused fingers giving you goosebumps as they played with your nipples. " 's too much, Shigure, please, please Shigure, too fast", you cried out, hands reaching to grab his arms as you shook. You whined as you heard him laugh, a condescending tone as he spoke to you.

"It's too much? But I thought you said you could take it? Thought you said I could be rough? Like a little slut." He emphasised the word with a sharp thrust that had your whole body clenching, eyes shut closed and jaw braced as pleasure took over your whole body.He turned you around, grabbing your hair as he pushed you against the desk, papers flying off the side from the force.

"T-too much", you cried, tears trailing down your cheeks at the sensitivity. You felt heavy and your body was tired, but Shigure didn't let up, instead drilling his cock into you harder at the sound of your cries.

“That was close”, Shigure spoke softly into your ear, fingers never giving up. You didn’t respond, earning a sharp slap across your clit that had you gasping in his arms.

"Shigure, do you know- oh, Y/N? I was looking for you", Yuki's voice rang out in the room, your heart pounding at every word. You watched as Yuki's eyebrows furrowed, eyes scanning yours as he took in the scene in front of him, evidently confused.

"Oh, Yuki, Y/N just wanted some help with some work, didn't you?", he looked down at you, eyes calm as you shakily nodded your head. You were about to speak when you felt two fingers pressing on your clit, a sharp intake of breath, stopping the words completely. You felt Shigure's gaze as he looked down at you, a faux confused look on his face.

"Hmm? Y/N? What's wrong?", his fingers drew circles lightly again as the two men stared at you in confusion. "I- I...nothing. Yeah, I jus-just wanted help with some writing. And I've um...I've got a bit of a stomach ache", you forced a small smile, fingers desperately clenching on the wood of the table as Shigure’s pressed harder, motions speeding up. Shigure cooed condescendingly, giving you a pout that had you clenching around his digits. Yuki nodded awkwardly, eyes slowly trailing down your body before he stepped out the door, leaving the two of you alone once again.

You felt him let go with you, a deep, guttural groan sounding out loudly in the room. Your second orgasm was just as good as the first, if not better. But as you lay, panting on his chest, a wave of realisation hit you. There was no way that was quiet. There was no way they didn’t hear you. What the fuck had you done? You could feel the tears welling up again, the shame was too much. Your breathing got quicker, full-on sobs racking your body. “Aww, baby, don’t cry,” Shigure cooed, hands enveloping your head to rest it on his chest in a firm hold. Your body shook under his, stifling your sobs.

“You want to come?” He asked, voice stern. You nodded desperately.

“Yes, I want it, want it”, you panted, his hips beginning to slap against yours. You knew he was close too, his hips faltering every now and then in his brutal rhythm.

“Fuck. Beg for it then, fucking slut”, he spat, his pace growing faster and faster. You whined out.

“Please, Shigure, please, I need it, please, oh my god” he thrusted faster, clearly taking your words as an incentive. You felt his hips stutter as he breathed out a final phrase.

“Come for me then, baby”

Shigure felt his cock harden.

Maybe he could convince you to go again.

#tw: age gap #tw: age difference #tw: dubcon #shigure x reader #fruits basket x reader #fruits basket #shigure sohma #tw: manipulation #tw: coercion #tw: corruption #tw; exhibitionism #smut #fruits basket smut

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notbgame · 1 year

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Sheriff Sterling wants you to know that he prides himself on being flexible and easy to work with. So go ahead, tell him more about this fancy alternative way you’d like to pay your fine.

#this needs a trigger warning but WHAT #tw: noncon #tw: coercion #I'm rounding up but better safe than sorry

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citylighten · 5 months

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🖊️ 🎶 💘 🎂 🍝 😊 😥 for rosie and 💯 🔺 🐈 🍎 🖤 🍸 🧐 for pietro <3

This took me SO long to answer but that's because the questions were so good!!

🖊️ BALLPOINT PEN — does your oc have any tattoos? Do they want any (more) tattoos?

Rosaria has a tarot card tattoo on her arm and a rose tattoo on her thigh. The latter came a bit before she started her first college semester. It was her 17th birthday and her sister insisted that she needed a tattoo before her college journey began. Since Sonia is a tattoo addict and Sal also has a handful of tattoos (I need to make more of his but I'm lazy shh) for Rosaria to get one was like a ‘rite of passage.’ Either way, she likes her thigh tattoo because she thinks it looks like an intricate design when she puts on stockings. But the downfall of this is when she wears stockings with intricate designs, her tattoo is still visible and throws the design off. The tarot tattoo is more recent and it also serves as a display for how much she loves colored tattoos rather than black and white ones. Rosaria has seen some really cute tattoo ideas of flowers at the ankles or a kitten hugging the moon, and she would love them on her but, because of her career goals she thinks they could be very unprofessional or at worse, look immature.

🎶 MUSICAL NOTES — what type of music does your oc like? do they listen to music very often?

She has a nostalgic love for 80s rock and 80s pop due to her parents always playing it when she was little. Beyond that she grew up in a house with all sorts of music: Sal loved rappers, Sonia loved rock! Rosaria found herself leaning towards indie pop and indie rock. Because I’m the sort of person who has to know what sort of music my OCs listen to so I can get into their headspace, I’m gonna name off some musicians! Tennis, The Bird and the Bee, Florence & The Machine, Lana Del Ray (she got into her during like, 2014 or 2013 tumblr. same with Florence), Mitski, Steve Lacy, and Toro y Moi.

💘 HEART WITH ARROW — what and/or who do(es) your oc consider the most important to them?

Her immediate family is very important to her, because it feels 'small and fragile.' Her mom died when she was going into Middle School, her dad began living his life self-destructively soon after therefore, Rosaria consequently grew up worried about her siblings dying young in addition to herself dying young. Her cat Briscola is also very important to her, because Rosaria feels like domestic animals depend on humans and consequently, if something happens to them its her fault and she's a failure in some way.

🎂 BIRTHDAY CAKE — when is your oc's birthday? how old are they? what are their sun, moon, & rising signs (if known)? what about their tarot card, ruling planet, & ruling number (if known)? do they fit the typical traits of these sun, moon, & rising signs? Rosaria’s birthday is March 26, she’s 28 going on 29 and her sign is Aries which hopefully puts every one of her confrontational scenes in a better context 😂 I’m gonna be honest and say Rosaria’s behavior is based on my grandmother who is also an Aries who switches from being a diligent worker, a sweet, pleasant, caring person, then the most combative person ever.

🍝 SPAGHETTI — what is/are your oc's favorite food(s)?

Grilled chicken wraps, tortellini with ricotta and spinach.

😊 SMILING FACE WITH SMILING EYES — what are your oc's career/general life desires? what do they want to get the most out of life? When Rosaria was a kid she wanted to be the President. Looking back, Rosaria recognizes she always wanted to make the world a better place, because in addition to fixating on history, she was obsessed with how the creation of laws and rules were formed. When she learned that people in government made laws, that’s when Rosaria decided: “oh! I want to be President so I decide which laws exist!” ‘cause you know, kids simplify logic like that. She wanted to be a lawyer in Middle School and High School, but by High School she felt like her family wasn’t likely to put her through Law School due to their low finances. Once she was in college, she majored in Communications because she felt like she would graduate quickly with some sort of [dead-end] job to satisfy her family. Rosaria still wanted to make the world a better place though, so she would always participate in activist rallies and protests.

As she studies to be a lawyer now, Rosaria still aspires to help people. [Unaware that Raphael allegedly wants her to be a consigliere.] I consider middle-aged Rosaria, in the Sink or Swim AU, to be an Immigration Lawyer which ties into her passion about helping others have a better life.

😥 SAD BUT RELIEVED FACE — is your oc prone to getting stressed out, or is it easy for them to keep their cool?

Rosaria is prone to anxiety. In a mild case she’s overthinking a situation, but in a severe case she’s having panic attacks. High levels of neuroticism runs on the father’s side of her family. But beyond that, a good deal of Rosaria’s general stress comes from her overworking herself and setting high expectations for herself. To receive bad feedback in college, or work, can send her into a brief depression.

💯 HUNDRED POINTS SYMBOL — share three random facts about your oc that others may not know. 1. Because he immigrated at seven years old and was thrust into English-speaking schools he struggled reading, writing, and speaking. Because this school was [shitty] and underfunded, apathetic teachers would consequently place Pietro in Special Education Classes that did not help him either. Dissatisfied with school [and seeing it as a place where he would just be humiliated] Pietro would stop going at fourteen years old. 2. His English gradually improved because his big sister, Donatella, would take him to the local theater every Saturday and they would watch movies. It was more of a listening experience than anything else. 3. Pietro was coerced into a sexual relationship with Daciano’s mother, Maria Falcone when he was twenty. Neither Ernesto or Daciano are aware of this. But, Pietro was residing with Ernesto and Maria at the time. Ernesto and Maria were splitting up, and Maria frequently made passes at Pietro wanting to fulfill a personal fantasy of having a young, fit guy fulfill her needs. As a result, Pietro felt to secure the fact he had a roof over his head, he had to sleep with Ernesto's wife.

🔺 RED TRIANGLE POINTED UP — does your oc know how to use any weapons? If it was required for Pietro to cut up a man, he could do it with expertise. This is because his father, Umberto, made his living as a butcher and had his sons assist with the shop. He knows how to cut chickens and remove their innards and just the same he knows vital spots on the human body. Frankly, he would prefer to use a gun to kill. 🐈 CAT — does your oc prefer a wide circle of friends or a few close friends? Pietro is a man with a few close friends. However, he feels it’s good to be sociable and know others: because when people think that they know you, they can be resourceful in times of need. Prison taught him the importance of keeping his circle small, but even as a child and teen Pietro was a quiet, observant boy. He could be in a group of people, only making a meaningful connection with roughly three or four other kids.

🍎 RED APPLE — where was your oc born? do they still live in/around their place of birth or do they live somewhere else? how do they feel about their birthplace? Pietro was born in Sicily [Tartosa] and now he resides in America so he is nowhere close to his birthplace. He misses Sicily, although he isn’t quite sure if he romanticizes his home country or not. Either way, Pietro isn’t fond of city living. Apartments terrified him as a kid - it’s too much noise and it didn’t seem right to stack people on top of each other. Houses located in busy districts are just as worse as the noise persists. He would rather live in quiet, unassuming suburbs where nothing happens or the countryside. However, living in the countryside means the commute to work would be too long, so Pietro settles for suburbia.

🖤 BLACK HEART — has your oc killed or seriously wounded anyone before? have they broken someone's heart and/or broken someone's trust? Hurting others comes with the nature of Pietro’s occupation. However, an instance of Pietro harming someone within Sink or Swim can be seen when he and others pummeled Mendel the dentist. Pietro has broken hearts and trust more on a profound level when it comes to his family. And that is something we will dive in later within this story’s narrative.

🍸 COCKTAIL GLASS — what is your oc's favorite alcoholic drink, if they can drink? Bourbon!

🧐 FACE WITH MONOCLE — is your oc more logical or emotional? Pietro is sneaky, but he is also logical and level-headed. He analyzes situations and he is a reflective thinker. He is capable of becoming emotional in certain situations, but it’s because something he really loves is on the line or something he cares about is at stake. Sometimes, you can get away with jumping and doing something risky when wrapped up in your emotions. But sometimes you can’t afford to.

#oc: rosaria #oc: pietro #thank you again! i feel accomplished getting this done lmaoo #tw: coercion

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oh-katsuki · 2 years

Text

Where The Panther Killed The Stag - Chapter 2 (Hanma x Reader)

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Pairing: Hanma x Reader

Series Content Warnings: THIS SERIES IS A PSYCHOLOGICAL HORROR AND INCLUDES THEMES OF: murder, violence, abuse, alcohol consumption, mentions of drugs, hard kinks, rumination, guilt, depersonalization, dub/noncon, organized crime, mind break, and other similar themes.

Summary: You're a good student at the top of your university class and the vice president of your student-led club. A shiny toy on the top shelf of your social circle. Hanma likes toys he can break. Slowly but surely, you begin to spiral into a twisted situation that is entirely out of your control, putting your life and the lives of the people around you at stake.

Or, Hanma takes an interest in the University of Tokyo's resident good girl.

Chapter Title: Infection Of The Highest Caliber

Chapter Content Warnings: fem!reader, dub/noncon, loss of virginity, fingering, rough sex, alcohol consumption, mentions of drugs, implications of violence, threats, erratic / unpredictable behavior, coercion, slight fear play, blood, praise, slight degradation, sir kink, slight choking

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: I lied about uploading twice a week. i think im gonna do every other day or every two days for at least the first few chapters. or i might just do it ao3 style and upload whenever my heart desires lol. also im nervous about this series... as in i upload and immediately am anxious for several hours. i think its because ive been working on it for a while so the writing in the earlier chapters doesn’t reflect where I am as a writer now. oh well, enjoy this chapter! heed the warnings please!

The next week rolls around with little reprieve from the growing paranoia you’re experiencing. It’s almost neurotic, the way you’ve been watching your back, certain that someone is following you. By the time you arrive at your council meeting, you swear that your hair is standing on end.

But you’re flooded with relief when you see Suzuki seated in his usual spot, teeth intact. He’s bruised up, bottom lip busted and his delicate cheeks bruised and growing yellow. They must have waited for him last week. A shiver runs down your spine thinking that they could have seen you walking home. You aren’t careful enough.

“Suzuki,” you start, “are you okay?”

It’s a vague question but when he nods, you understand. He must have gotten the money to him, or at least enough to stave them off. You swallow thick, eyes drifting down to the bruises on his face and you wonder if they were left by sin or by punishment.

Tension is thick in the air as Hasegawa starts the meeting, clearing his throat in the way men with power do. He doesn’t command a room as well as Hanma does. That’s what you’re thinking as he’s talking and it’s making you insane. You’re bored hearing him talk, despite the delicate cadence of his words and your previous fascination with him. A week spent looking into perhaps the most dangerous man you’ve ever encountered and you’ve the nerve to sit here bored.

You remind yourself what all this is for, your silence, staying away from people like Hanma, not that you could ever find him again. You know from your research that he won’t be found unless he wants to be. Your future is everything to you, one tall man with tattooed hands won’t ruin it. You won’t let a panther among deer ruin your shot at your dream life. It’s what you’ve worked for all these years.

Or that’s what you tell yourself. You really should have known that he’d have you in his web if he wanted. You shouldn’t be surprised by the car that pulls up next to you on your walk home or the frighteningly handsome man inside who sits against sleek black leather seats. That familiar deadpan is set on you again as the heavily tinted window is rolled down, the glass humming with electricity as it reveals him.

And then Hanma Shuji says your name despite you never having told it to him.

You stare at him, eyes wide as he takes in your appearance. The clean-cut pants, sweater, tote bag filled with books and a laptop. Such a goody goody. Hanma wants to eat you alive and under his gaze, you feel yourself shrink, feel the way your fingers grip the phone in your right hand tighter. All while he watches you. No, it isn’t watching, it’s appraising. Hanma’s looking at merchandise.

“Get in the car.” He speaks, that rich baritone invading your ears. You feel the wall on the other side of the sidewalk bump your back, not realizing that you had been stepping away from the car.

“Why?” It’s an automatic response, a scared one.

Hanma rolls his eyes before setting them back on you and then he does something that shocks you further. You swear that there’s a smile on his lips. A sadistic one, but a smile nonetheless. “We’re asking questions now?”

You swallow thick, tiptoeing, choosing your words carefully. “I really can’t. I’ve got studying to do. Thank you for the invitation, sir.”

It’s too formal, but the honorific slips from your tongue easily. It fits him.

Hanma can see you shaking, the way your fingers tremble, the innocent look in your eyes. He likes that you’re so polite, such a pretty pushover. And all for him? Isn’t he the lucky one.

“Taking mommy’s advice and not going out with strangers?” Hanma asks. He seems to ask a lot of questions. “But I’ve got a dress for you and everything. It’s your size.”

Your blood freezes in your veins. It’s your size? Something in you sings, there’s an animal in your chest purring at the thought. The thought that you weren’t the only one thinking. That you’ve lived in his mind for this past week. It’s frightening and all too enticing.

“No, thank you.” You say it a little firmer, with more conviction. Hanma looks back inside of the car, the interior dimmed by the heavily tinted windows. He rolls his eyes and you can see the flash of white before they come to rest to whoever sits in the driver’s seat. You can’t see the driver from where you are, but Hanma seems to give him a look.

“We could do this all day but y’know, I really don’t think you want to see me bored. So get in the car, doll. I won’t ask again.” He folds his hands across his lap, staring at you, through you to the brick behind.

You’re a good girl. You’ve always been a good girl and it’s moments like these that you curse that part of yourself. The part of yourself that needs to be liked, to be praised. Because when Hanma Shuji tells you to get in the car, when he calls you a doll and threatens you so sweetly, you find yourself sliding in next to him, slick collecting between your legs shamefully as the leather hits the back of your thighs.

Hanma nods to the driver, reaching over you and shutting the door. His car smells like cedar, like leather and cologne. It’s clean, nearly untouched, and you find that the most unsettling thing of all is that, beneath the smell of his cologne, you can smell blood.

—

The dress Hanma bought for you could hardly be called a dress at all. It’s a little number, a small, shiny red dress with spaghetti straps. It’s made of silk and the fabric slips expensively over your body when you move. He’s right, it is your size. It hugs your curves perfectly and you’re beginning to feel like you really are a doll, brought along under threat and dressed up pretty.

Even now, in his car again as you drive to a place he hasn’t disclosed to you, you wonder how the fuck you ended up here. Your eyes glance down to the bag of clothes on the floor of the car, your belongings from class and the outfit you wore earlier in the day. Whatever attitude you seem to have beside him, your mind is different, confused, frightened, screaming profanities that your peers couldn’t even imagine would come out of your mouth. And beside you, Hanma is still, his chin resting on his hand as he stares out of the car window.

“How did you know my name?” You find the courage to ask.

“Friends.” He offers a one-word response, not sparing you a second glance until you inhale a sharp and frightened breath. “You worried I’m gonna hurt you?”

You shift in the seat, “duh.”

“Relax. It’s just some fun.”

“Why?”

Hanma’s eyes dart over to you. “Why, why, why. You sure ask a lot of fucking questions.”

You’re startled by the emotion in his voice, the way his expression curls up into something nasty as he mocks you as if your reaction isn’t perfectly normal. You’re beginning to think that Hanma has no concept of what normal is.

“You looked interesting.” He finishes his statement, eyes falling deadpan again as they drift over you.

You wouldn’t call whatever this is interest, but something about being praised by him satisfies you, if you could even call it that. You briefly register that this isn’t how someone should be treating you, but garnering the interest of someone like Hanma feels like an achievement of some sort and bite your bottom lip to hold your tongue.

You quickly learn that Hanma’s emotions are as erratic and unpredictable as his actions. When you arrive at the club, he tosses an affectionate arm over your shoulder, striding past the bouncers and through the crowded club to a table in an adjacent room. People stare as you pass. They stare at you when he walks you past them, bored eyes sparing the room little more than a glance as he brings you to your destination. It’s obvious that they’re afraid of him, but also of you.

He sits you down in a booth in the far corner of the club, separated from the rest of the room by a red velvet rope that matches the upholstery. One moment, Hanma is calm and cold and the next, he’s shouting. Through the evening, there is always someone to be upset with, always something to piss him off, always something less than satisfactory. You find yourself struggling to please him, sitting close, letting his broad hand roam up and down your thigh.

You don’t drink. You don’t like the way being drunk makes you feel. But when Hanma pushes a glass in front of you, you sip it. When he slips his hand up your dress to pinch the fat of your thighs, you widen your legs. When he asks you to sit pretty and wait, you do. Because Hanma is someone that you want to give what he wants. Because despite the fear creeping in your veins, you want him.

The lights in the club are dark, pulsing with each beat of the upbeat music. They flash across his features, illuminating the dull look in his eyes and moving across the hard edges of his face. It smells like sweat and liquor. Your shoes stick to the floor when you move them and it would bother you if you weren’t so hyper aware of the man next to you and the heat radiating off of him. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the way bodies mingle on the dance floor, shapeless in the lights as they blend and shift until they are unrecognizable and abstract shapes glittering like gold under the strobes.

Hanma is reclined in the booth beside you, hands splayed over the top of the red leather that you’re matching so nicely. His fingers drum across the surface lightly with the music, long, vascular hands ghosting over the decor before his arm sinks down around your shoulder.

It’s a possessive grip, languid in movement, and in this position his long arm dwarfs you. You don’t miss the way he looks at anyone greedy enough to check you out, fingers running a circle around the ball of your shoulder as they realize their mistake. And it makes you feel good. Being desired, being possessed by someone other than yourself. As dangerous as this is, as strange as this situation is, you find Hanma charming. You find his hair-trigger sexy because right now you’re on the good side of it, safe under his arm while he frighteningly threatens another man.

“You’re not the type for clubs.” Hanma speaks, bending low by your ear. It’s not a question, but a statement rather, like he already knows.

You shake your head in response, turning to look at him. Over his shoulder you can see the entry way to a separate room, away from the pounding of the bass and the multi-color strobes. Despite the situation, the bags of drugs you can see being run from this room to the next, the guns in men’s belts that you have no idea how they got, you feel somewhat safe with him. Well, not safe per say, but far safer than you would be watching this from the outside. And Hanma loves that he can see that on your face.

He loves your uncertainty, the way you stick to his side like a good girl because when you’re here, he’s the only thing you’re somewhat familiar with. Hanma has a particular adoration for girls like you. The ones that break so easily. The ones that break forever.

He lets his gaze roam slowly down your figure, to where your thighs spill out of the sinfully small red dress he’d bought you. You match the booth like an accessory, like you’ve been bought. Hanma admires the way your unpolished fingers cup the drink he’d bought you in your lap, hardly touched, ice melting slowly in the glass. It clinks and shifts, sliding against its self and spinning with even the slightest movement.

He brings his fingers to the underside of it, knuckles grazing your upper thigh before he pushes it up delicately to your lips, all while maintaining your gaze as if he’s the fucking sun. Hanma pushes the rim to your slightly parted lips and his body hums when you let him tilt it back. Watching you like you’re an experiment, something fascinating and interesting.

The alcohol burns your throat. You’re not used to it and you’re sure that this drink is probably just straight vodka. But you let him tip it down your throat and you let him watch you while you do as you’re instructed.

Hanma hums, low in his throat as he takes the glass from you and sets it onto the table. Then, he leans in and puts his lips to yours in an open-mouth kiss. It’s aggressive and wet, his tongue dipping into your mouth and exploring. You part your lips for him, eyes fluttering shut because Hanma’s mouth is hot and his tongue is soft as it swipes across yours.

You’d be embarrassed to be kissed like this in front of so many people, but the alcohol is soaring through your veins and the kiss only makes you feel more separate from the situation. Even here, in your own body, you are an outsider.

Hanma’s lips move against yours, open-mouthed before he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and bites hard. You whine against him. It hurts, his teeth on the soft flesh of your bottom lip, but you’re squeezing your thighs together at the difference. The difference between how soft his tongue is in your mouth and the blood you’re sure he’s just drawn from your bottom lip. You can taste copper as he kisses you, gliding his tongue along the cut on your bottom lip. He shares with you, coaxing his tongue against yours as the metallic taste spreads through your mouth.

Hanma pulls away after a moment, eyes open as he looks over you with a bored expression, gaze flicking down momentarily to where you’ve tangled your fingers into his dress shirt.

“This is expensive.” He comments, pulling your hands from his chest and smoothing down the wrinkles. “If you want to ruin my clothes, you should at least do it at my place.”

Hanma tilts his head back and despite the fact that it sounded like an invitation, you know it wasn’t. In the short time you’ve known him, you’ve learned that Hanma doesn’t make requests because Hanma gets everything he wants. What makes you more nervous still is this growing desire to be that, to please him. You don’t think you could say no if you wanted to.

Alarm bells glare in your head as he stands and guides you from the club, the hand that reads “sin” pressed flush against your lower back, urging you forward with him. You should be getting home. You have work, club activities, organizational duties to complete, but your mind is foggy and your breath feels too loose to keep yourself together. Slowly, you unravel like string. All you can think about is the hand on your back, the way his long fingers would feel pressed up inside of you.

You’ve been touched before but never in a context like this, never in what’s shaping up to be something emotionless and filthy. You want to save yourself, to a degree, for someone you love. Hanma must know that you don’t have much experience because in the car, he eyes you from where he sits.

You’d expect the situation to be sobering because you’re afraid, but instead looking at him makes you feel drunker, makes you sink deeper into this unfamiliar intoxication that is Hanma Shuji.

Hanma doesn’t need to wonder what you’re thinking about. He already knows. You’re thinking about his hands, if his cock matches his height, if it’s going to hurt when he puts it in and if he’s going to hurt you after. He deals a lot with girls like you. The nice ones he finds in shops or on odd jobs. Innocent girls who want to please, who want to be something more than themselves for the sake of someone else. He loves the martyr type. So he lets you believe that you’re being a martyr. Hanma plans to let you think you’re making a difference even when he knows that you’re not. He’s not someone who can change and it’s fun to break things that don’t belong to him.

He staves off boredom with girls like you. That’s really all you’re good for. After all, someone who can’t think for themselves is nothing more than a dog anyway.

—

Hanma lives in the northwest portion of Minato Ward, in Aoyama, the wealthiest part of the city where he owns a penthouse overlooking the attractive neighborhood. It makes sense when you think about it. A man with a price on his head living in one of the safest areas, in a tower equipped with security and on the top floor.

His apartment is stale. That’s how you’d describe it. It’s full of sleek furniture clearly not designed for comfort and modern art that lacks feeling but no doubt has a high price tag. The floor plan is open with gray wood floors. It looks like it’s been pasted from a high fashion magazine and the space feels too clean to have been lived in. Against the bright interior, he looks like a devil, dark plastered against sterile whites and muted grays.

“Get out.” He commands, and behind you, you hear someone shuffle out of the apartment as the door clicks behind them. You’d almost forgotten that Hanma was accompanied by guards, high up on Tokyo’s underground food chain. You suddenly want to go home.

“Well, uhm-” You start, hooking your fingers together in front of your body. “Thank you for tonight but- I really should get home.”

Hanma doesn’t look at you while you speak, instead walking to the bar and pouring a glass of whiskey, liquid gold against a pristine glass. You think it’s for him until he walks over to you and hands it to you.

“Drink.”

“I don’t think I should.” You respond, holding it, fiddling with the dips in it.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to refuse a drink?” He muses, walking to the sleek black couch and sitting down. You follow him, caught in his gravitational pull, standing near him but not sitting because he hasn’t invited you to.

The last thing you want to be is rude. You’ve never been rude, not intentionally, so you nod, taking a small sip of the drink. You hate the taste of whiskey but all you can think of right now is how stupid you are for not accepting.

Hanma watches you take a sip, pleased again with your malleability before he reaches his hands out for your hips, pulling you between his legs.

“You’re pretty.” He says, low-lidded eyes looking over your figure.

You’re shocked by the praise. It’s the first real compliment he’s given you all night and despite yourself, despite the thrumming of your heart against your ribs, you melt a little.

“I like pretty things.” Hanma runs a hand over your cheek, stroking along the curve of it before running two slender fingers down along your jugular. “Red looks good on you.”

His fingers close around your throat and you suck in a sharp breath, screwing your eyes shut. This is a man who has killed. You wonder if the fingers around your throat now have ever done this to someone else. If they’ve ever closed around someone’s throat so tightly that the light fades from their eyes.

“Thank you…” You squeak out.

“Are you afraid?” He draws you closer by the neck, the hand on your hip giving a firm squeeze.

When you nod slowly, he hums his approval, bringing his lips to yours. They move against you languidly, tongue delving into your mouth like he’s claiming it, mouth hot and greedy. You let him kiss you, swaying slightly until he pulls you into his lap, taking the glass and setting it on the coffee table in one swift movement.

Hanma’s hand stays seated on your throat, your center pushed against his hips. He strokes the soft skin of your neck with his digits when he kisses you and each drag of his finger against your pulse point makes you feel like you’re choking, air catching in your lungs. He exhales languidly against your mouth, each movement calculated, meant to scare you.

As he guides your back to the couch, the tension feels like a chord about to snap. You want him, you do, but you also want to run. Your legs feel frozen as he lays down between them, covering you with his body that feels larger than life. Against your stomach, you can feel the hard ridge of his cock and your blood thrums with nerves you never even knew you had.

You’re dancing along a wire. You can feel it as he kisses down your neck where his hand used to be, biting harshly at the flesh, warning you against doing things he doesn’t like. You’re meant to just sit pretty for him, let him work you open. That’s what’s going to make him happy.

When Hanma drags his teeth harshly across your collarbone, you yelp and he chuckles into your skin. It’s the first time you’ve heard him laugh and it’s intoxicating, as frightening as it is. It means that you’ve done something he likes and you’re obsessed with the feeling of it.

He’s surprisingly gentle but, beneath it all, you can feel his hair-trigger. The paper-thin string is taught between your legs, caught between pleasure and punishment as his fingers trail under your dress and up your thigh.

He’s taunting you, gauging your reactions. You can’t decide if you want this. You can’t decide if you want whatever you’re spiraling towards but when his fingers come into contact with your clit and he closes his eyes at the feeling, you know you can’t turn back. This game he’s playing—and it is a game—is one you’re becoming more invested in by the moment.

It really isn’t until his fingers are curling inside of you, long and slender, that you realize what he is. Hanma is a predator, a panther with sharp eyes, and you’re caught in his jaw. But more so, as he works you open helplessly on his fingers, you realize that he’s the type of person who makes you want to end up as prey.

“You’re so tight down here, doll.” Hanma purrs. His voice is thick and deep and full of pleasure. For the normally cold man, the tone switch is disorienting. “You save yourself just for me?”

You don’t answer, instead gasping when he crooks his fingers up harshly. “H-Hanma-”

He stops, pulling himself from you. The faint trace of a smile falls from his lips, another sudden switch. You realized you’ve tripped the trigger. “Using my name now?”

Hanma lines his cock up with your entrance and you eye it, eyes wide. It’s long and slightly curved, tan and flush at the head with two angry veins running up it. He smears your essence over it, not watching what he’s doing, where’s he’s putting it as he feels around for the ring of your cunt.

“We’re familiar enough now that you can use my name, are we?” His voice is cruel, elated with the slightest uptick of anger. “If we’re so fucking close, let’s get a little closer.”

You put your hands against his chest, pressing back because you can feel what’s coming. “H-Hanma wait- wait-”

“There’s that fucking name again.” He thrusts into you and you gasp, fingernails digging into his shirt, ruining it like he promised you would. He looks angry, staring down at you with a nasty scowl on his face. “Show some fucking respect, eh? I’m not playing around here.”

“It hurts!” You cry out, back arching up at the fill.

“Yeah?” He says. “Does it hurt, doll? Got some fuckin’ nerve calling me by my name. Thought you were a good girl?”

“I am! I am!” You plead as he drags his cock along your walls and pushes back in with a harsh flick of his hips.

“Then what the fuck do good girls call me?” He spits down at you, pistoning his hips into you. “Only good girls deserve to feel good. Casual sluts get used like one.”

“Sir!” You say, tears brimming in your eyes. “Good girls call you sir!”

You feel Hanma’s cock twitch in you. He wants so badly to put you in your place, to ruin you now. He wants to take the knife from his pocket and drive the point home by pressing it to your neck, watch those pretty eyes well up even more than they already are. But if he breaks you too soon, you won’t break for him.

He pushes his hips flush against yours, stilling as he holds them there forcefully. “That’s right. And what are you gonna be?”

“Your good girl.” You respond, wary eyes finding him.

You need something to ground yourself with. You need something to tether you to earth and right now, you’re finding that he’s the only thing. The sterile decoration in the room around you offers you no comfort so you turn to the next living thing to validate you.

Hanma breaks out in an adoring smile. It reaches his eyes and sits wide across his face before he laughs.

“Oh, you’re so good.” He lowers his mouth to yours, pulling his hips back slowly and this time you can register the way he hits the sweet spot inside of you. “You’re my good girl now, right? Never going to let you go. So fucking good for me.”

You soak up his praise like a flower, like it’s a reprieve from everything else. When he likes you, when he wants you, you’re safe. Fear still hums in your veins but you pull him closer, for safety, to stay protected by walking the tightrope with this predator.

You moan your response, lost in it, the alcohol making your head fuzzy. You don’t have the mind to think about how fast this seems to be moving, about his words of possession and the adoration he regards you with so early into your tryst.

It’s a long while before he lets you go. A long while before he’s finally decided that he’s had his fill of your cunt and the loss makes you sad in a fucked up, perverse way. You’re half asleep by the time he’s finished, too fucked out to register that he’s cum inside of you with a deep groan, with threatening praises in your ear.

There is the distinct feeling that this is the cut that will cause the infection. You can feel the way it begins to invade your blood. It’s a new, unrecognizable part of yourself, brought about through your blood. Infection of the highest caliber.

---

The next morning, you wake up in his bed, or at least what you think is his bed. You’re clean and washed, a favor you didn’t think he would do you. His bedroom is as stale as his living room, a black duvet comforter covering your body. The bed beside you is empty and as you sit up, your head pounds with the hangover. You shift your body to move and your legs ache, body screaming for rest, for someone to massage the creak in your muscles away.

You let yourself think stupidly that he’s done this because he liked something about you last night. And you’re not entirely wrong. It’s never been this easy that he’s gotten a virgin to submit like that, but you’re also a fucking idiot to imagine that it makes you special. Still, you replay the words in your head, that he’ll never let you go, and though it sets a deep fear in your lungs, you also sing at the praise.

When you pad into the kitchen on shaky legs, unfamiliar with the layout of the apartment, he’s reclined on the couch, arm thrown over the back of it. His tattooed hand reading “punishment” lays idly along the cushion and in his other hand, he holds a newspaper. It’s oddly domestic and he tosses you one single sideways glance before removing his hand from the back of the couch and tossing a white and purple package to the end closest to you.

“Take this.” You walk over to the package, turning it over in your hand. You recognize the brand, Plan B. “I don’t need you getting fucking pregnant on me.”

You mumble your thank you, walking to the kitchen. As instructed, you take the pill and Hanma hums his approval.

“What are we doing today?” You ask, immediately regretting it when his eyes shift to you.

“You’re going home.” He responds cooly.

It should make you relieved to not have to stay here any longer with a man who’s known for being cruel, but something in your stomach drops. So he’s done with you? Bored with you already?

You don’t respond, in fact, neither of you says much to each other on the ride home. Instead, Hanma remains eerily quiet, uninterested in you once again. You watch out the window as the scenery passes, a bit dazed, but still registering as it begins to get more familiar. Beside you, Hanma does the same, cheek against his hand. He looks a bit like a child like this, spoiled rotten and unhappy with his new toy. It makes your stomach turn.

As the sleek black car pulls up in front of your apartment building, despite the fact that you haven’t told him your address, you find fear creeping back into your veins. He could kill you now. He could take you out to avoid any of this getting to the authorities, to avoid exposing where he lives, who he works with, what clubs he frequents, though you suppose the authorities already know. The problem isn’t not being able to find him, it’s that he covers himself so well. He could do the same to you.

You move to get out of the car but he stops you, a hand around your wrist. “What do you say?”

“Thank you, sir.” You respond, chest tightening.

“Hm.” He says, letting go and watching as you walk around the other side of the car to the sidewalk, dress from the night before still wrapped around your figure. Hanma rolls down the window, leaning out of it onto his arm. “Oh, and if you tell anyone about this, I’ll fucking kill you. So be good, okay?”

You wonder how he can say such frightening things so easily, how he can look bored when he’s just pressed a metaphorical gun to your head.

“Yes, sir.” For some reason, it’s hard to find the words when you’re around Hanma. You think that when it comes to him, there is very little to say.

“Atta girl.” As he rolls up the window, you hear him tell the chauffeur to drive before he pulls off.

You watch him pull away before turning to walk back to your quaint apartment. You don’t have the mind to ponder if you were just kidnapped, if it still counts even if he took you home after. Does a death threat mean anything if you plan to take it to the grave? Did that really happen?

Even as you let yourself into your apartment, you’re not worrying about yourself. You’re home and safe, the bruises will fade. All you can think of now is whether or not he got bored of you. God, you hope he hasn’t already grown bored of you.

#hanma x reader #hanma x reader smut #hanma shuji x reader smut #hanma shuji x reader #hanma shuji smut #hanma smut #tw: dark content #tw: dubcon #tw: noncon #tw: praise #tw: loss of virginity #[ 📕 – writing ]#tw: blood #tw: coercion #tw: drugs/alcohol

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