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mattsonly · 1 month

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Too innocent

Summary: in which, Matt finds pictures of who he thought was his innocent best friend, in unexpected positions...

Warnings: male masturbation, oral m!recieving, porn with very little plot, piv, unprotected sex, innocence & corruption kink, no use of y/n.

a/n: this is my very first fic (on tumblr anyways) so i am hoping it meets standards!! also, this came to me in a dream and i am a SUCKER for innocent!reader so i just had to ;)

You had always been the sweet, soft and gentle spoken type, never so much as uttering a curse word, even to your closest friends. This exterior had, however; earned you a nickname with your bestfriend. Angel. Which, inevitably, had your cheeks warm and tinted in a furious pink everytime.

Matt only called you it to tease, thriving in pride whenever he saw your rosy dusted face each time he uttered the pet name. It was fitting, he thought. You were the embodiment of purity.

Said fact (which he was now debating) occupated his mind as his jaw went slack, knuckles white and gripping desperately on the polaroid pictures he had found in your bedside drawer, as if you were going to storm in and snatch them away.

Even if you had, they had already worked effectively as his pants suddenly felt awfully tight, on the border of painful.

Matt would've been slightly less shocked if there were perhaps only one snapshot of your naked (or almost so) body, he could've excused it as curiosity. But, with atleast 15 different printed pictures in hand with evidently different time stamps, this wasn't just curiosity.

This was deceit, he felt lied to. He wasn't mad about his curious discovery, though. But how he desperately wished this oppurtunity had presented itself sooner. The lack of time had suddenly dawned on Matt, realising if he desired the relief that was pent up in his sweats, he had to act fast.

Tugging them down eagerly, lifting his pink shirt and stuffing the hem into his mouth, biting down in it in attempt to conceal any inevitable moans that were surely to spill out. He was impressed at how he didn't do so already when he first saw the polaroids, his dedication to not get caught evidently overpowering.

Matt loosened his grip on the photos, in order to switch between which one was on top of the pile. His mind was racing with borderline filthy thoughts of all the positions you were in, and how he would destroy you in every one. Palming his now throbbing cock through the thin material of his boxers, his head threw back with the pictures above his face, to remain in constant eyeline.

One, was a picture of you in only a thin thong, knelt on your bed pointing the camera to the mirror behind, a clearshot view of your ass propped up on your heels had Matt salivating onto the thin material of his shirt he had formely stuffed in his mouth. Another was of you bent over your bathroom counter, adorning nothing on your body, showing your bare arched back and the slope of your ass, with your tits in slight view in the bottom right corner, as well as your collarbones. And the final one of the bunch that had definitely caught Matt's attention, was the only one of all that showed your face.

Your smile in the polaroid was the same one Matt had seen multiple times, only having mistaken it for one of entire innocence. Though nothing about the smile was different, Matt felt this one was taken in an entire different light. Your hair was damp and loose over your shoulders, water trickling down your body from the shower head above you, suds of soap scattering your bare chest which was in plain view. This one was by far his favourite, the look in your eyes, the image of your plush tits practically begging for attention infront of his eyes, your sweet yet somehow seductive smile.

All had him weak, pathetically palming himself through his boxers, continuous groans falling from his flushed lips and vibrating off the material of his shirt on his tongue.

He imagined vividly all the things he could and wished to do to you, have you sat on his lap like in the first picture, riding his fingers to the point of overstimulated tears, your innocent eyes glassy and lips pouted in a whine. Even so, he'd have you begging for more, rutting eagerly against his hand and chasing your... 5th? 6th? orgasm. You both lost count, far too caught up in the sensual moment.

He'd bend you over the bathroom counter, just like the second picture, his palm flat on the bottom of your back and pushing your torso against the cool marble surface. With your nipples now perked up and on full display for him, how could you expect him to resist grabbing one of your tits as he pounds into you infront of the mirror, his unoccupied hand tangling in your hair and pulling your head back to see your fucked out face. He imagined that, your swollen lip between your teeth, mascara running down the apples of your flushed cheeks which only fuelled the eager slamming of his cock inside you.

The last one... his personal favourite, Matt practically whimpered upon sight of it, wanting desperately to go beneath the restraints of his boxers and pump his dick furiously, with the firing desire the photos built up inside him, but he refrained, settling for simply working above the thin material. That way, he assumed it would maintain some form of respect for his oh so innocent best friend. Undeniably, this was wrong. He had snooped and stumbled upon these on his own accord, you hadn't left them out.

Which is why he knew how perverted and filthy the situation was, but that didnt stop the movement of his palm over his sensitivity, nor the moan of your name, muffled by his shirt. Nor the dip of the mattress near his feet.

You smiled up at him as he stared at you, dumbfounded. With his hand covering his almost bare cock, shirt in his mouth, and your private polaroids in clutch. Not many excuses could be made. Instead, he released his shirt from between his teeth, furrowing an eyebrow while maintaining eye contact. "Well?" the one worded sentence, despite so little content, spoke a million words. He was asking whether you were willing to break the boundary. Whether you were as filthy as the pictures made you seem.

Whether you were going to help him in his.. predicament.

All at once.

The soft touch of your hand could be felt atop his, the very same that was palming himself only 10 seconds ago, gently sliding his own hand off and replacing it with your own.

Matt felt that, maybe.. just maybe, your innocent demeanor hadn't been false. If he hadn't had proof against that, the feather-light touches of your hand brushing over his sensitive tip and the way you had ever-so-softly asked "is this okay?" would've swayed his mind that you truly were the embodiment of an angel.

His head nods quickly and almost instantly his aching dick was finally released, your hands tugging the waistband down to his thighs, looking up at Matt as you land soft kisses to the ruddy tip still feigning innocence. Innocence that he oh so wants to destroy. Matt wants to see the sweet girl wither away beneath him under the influence of his dick, he wants to be the cause of your corruption.

The sensation of your lips engulfing the head of his cock was barely enough to snap him out of his perverse thoughts, though it succeeded. Eliciting a pent up groan from the back of his throat, one that was long longg overdue. Along side Matt's mind being blurred from pure lust and ecstasy as you took him expertly in your throat, managing to fit almost all of it in bar an inch or two, he also had a fuzzy feeling from the relief of finally having you like this, finally feeling the sensual touch that he had longed for from a distance ever since you traded baggy shirts for tube tops.

Despite the impending release building in his abdomen, Matt tugged perhaps a little too eagerly on your hair, completely disconnecting your mouth from where he needed you most. The sight was one that had a borderline pornographic moan fall from his lips. Yours, were red and coated in a thin sheen of saliva that fell slightly onto your chin, your cheeks warm and tinged red and eyes watery from supressing the continuous gags threatening to escape your throat each time his tip grazed the back of it. Yet you were smiling, that damned smile that had him fooled, leading him to believe his dirty scenarios concocted in his mind truly were barbaric, because you were far too innocent for that.

Matt used your makeshift ponytail as a guide, pulling you up by your hair, releasing his strong grip after you were situated up on your knees, instead pulling your forward by a stern hand on your hip. "Need you so bad angel, gotta feel you around me" his words came out in a slurred yet attractive murmur, voice raspy from the sounds elicited from his throat.

He shouldn't have been shocked that his sentence had you pulling your shirt over your head, contrasting who he thought you were for years. He shouldn't have been shocked, but he was. Shocked that despite revealing your bare chest to him, and situating yourself atop his hips, your face still looked so angelic and pure, and it undeniably turned Matt on to no end.

As if upon animalistic instinct, he grabbed your hips on either side, flipping you over and consequently groaning at the soft whimper that left your plush lips as your head met the pillow. Matt was addicted to you. The sight, sound, and he was beyond curious upon the taste. You knew the power you held over Matt, you knew that you were practically lurring him in like a sailor to a siren, and you knew you needed him... biblically. Leaning up, connecting the two pairs of eager lips, clashing and dancing together as if choreographed. Messy, yet sweet. Soft, yet passionate.

"Matt..please, please touch me" your begs and whines sounded pathetic, but fueled the burning desire bubbling in the boy's abdomen, which was apparent from the groan that vibrated against your collarbone from where his mouth was connected, sucking a purple mark on the fleshy bone.

Matt's hand had a mind of its own, as if not concious yet all too concious of the fact it was now trailing down your torso, teasing the soft skin of your inner thighs beneath your skirt, barely grazing your clit as a teasingly slow finger moves around your clothed cunt. Despite the touch being nowhere near enough to what you wanted, it managed to have your hips bucking up, rutting into the brunette's palm eagerly. "Matt.. don't tease.." You begged again, earning a sharp slap to your slick centre which had a mix between a moan and whimper escape your lips.

"Don't tease? Baby.. you were the one taking those filthy pictures, did you want me to see them? acted like a slut for your best friend to find.. so naughty" He tutted, with a stern shake of his head which had tears welling in your waterline and lips pouting. "Aw baby, don't cry.. i'll give it to ya. 'Y so desperate, needy little slut" what was meant to ease your mood, only had the salty drops falling down your cheeks, sniffling and feigning innocence. Matt saw straight through your act, unfooled by your antics, instead incredibly turned on by the trails of tears down your face.

Being equally as desperate and unwilling to tease himself in the process of teasing you, a small smile formed on your lips at the feeling of his smooth tip against your entrance, not yet intruding instead resting in place and looking in your eyes for an all clear sign. Despite wanting to absolutely destroy you, stripping you of any innocene that wasn't an act, he'd much rather do that knowing you wanted it too.

Expectedly, you did. Almost making Matt sigh in relief as he slowly pushed himself inside your warm opening, your walls immediately hugging his dick tightly and eliciting a gasp from not only him, but you from the comfortable and delicious stretch. With leverage on his arms, because of your strong grip on his bicep, his movements began and instantly created a rhythm that had you both groaning in bliss. Cresent moon shaped indents littered Matt's bicep, allerting him of your pleasure as his pace picked up, rutting into you almost ruthlessly.

The unrelenting, harsh yet oh so blissful pace of his hips rocking into yours entirely contradicted the intimacy of the moment and the pure adoration in the boy's eyes. With your most intimate parts connected, practically the same person in the moment, nothing but love was clear in his cerulean irises and the harsh slam of his dick inside you managed to feel like gentle kisses.

Both of you were aware that despite one another's desperation to finally cum, love hung heavy in the room, swarming the air around them and engulfing them entirely, amplifying the already overwhelming pleasure.

Your back arched, your chest very nearly flush against Matt's as your eyes screw shut, your soft walls pulsating around the brunette's length. "Matt! Matt! 'm so close.. so so close!" attempted words left your lips, yet only hitting Matt's ears as incoherent babbles, making him chuckle darkly and take a hand to where your bodies' are connected, swiftly rubbing the pad of his thumb against your clit with fevor, his other hand gripling the headboard as echoes of his own pleasure bounced off the walls, almost definitely alerting anyone of the activity in the room.

With the added sensation, the tightness in your stomach unwound, hitting you like a tonne of bricks as your legs shake, and strings of inaudible praises and gratitude vibrate against the walls. The pulsating of your soft walls engulfing him was enough to push Matt over edge, his hips stuttering and dick twitching, a broken whine echoing from his lips as he bites down harshly on your neck. A mantra of "fuck, fuck.. oh god" being the only words capable of being uttered due to the overwhelming ecstasy.

A warm smile occupied your cheeks. smiling up at Matt as he rode out his high, mouth agape and hair messy. voice broken and eyes boring directly into you.

With a shaky exhale, he smiled too, finally having you exactly as he wanted to.

a/n 2: soo i was gonna write aftercare for this too but i felt i already dragged it so nopeeee!!

@mattsenthusiast

#matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader

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katsukikitten · 5 months

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Men suck! So why not drain their bank accounts for wasting your time?! It would be foolish not to. Even more foolish to push the buttons of a very powerful man in the underground world of Tokyo.

But hey wait! He messaged you first! He wanted you to be his sugar baby so badly it makes him look stupid!

Although Bakugou Katsuki is anything but stupid.

It was supposed to be an easy mark. He followed all of the rules of the unspoken game between sugar baby and sugar daddy. He reached out to you first. He set the time and place for the first date and he asked about your pricing.

To which you told him was a steep two thousand consultation.

Immediately there was a notification with your fee plus a little extra for the expedited meeting in your bank account before he messaged you again.

Wear somethin nice.

His profile was vague as most marks were. Choosing to keep their identity a secret, embarrassed to have to buy a woman's time with their endless cash flow for one reason or another.

Some because of their looks, some their abhorrent attitude, some because they were too busy drowning in their work and some because they just couldn't be bothered for much of anything real only to fall in love after the third date thinking they could buy your heart like they did everything else.

Because at the end of the day all of these marks had something in common. Something to exploit.

They were all terribly lonely.

And despite how forward this mark is, like others have been before him, he was no exception to this rule.

You roll your eyes as you doll up for tonight's meeting. You always wore something nice and appropriate for the setting yet undeniably sexy. Something that made every eye rove over you with the heated gaze of envy. Something that made you everything those men wanted you to be.

A trophy, a status symbol, a yes I'm fucking that.

Scrolling his profile or lack thereof, a little bit more in an attempt to be his perfect baby girl. Knowing that to have a good long lasting con to afford you the luxuries you sat in now, you had to shed your true skin and stuff yourself into something two sizes too small.

Because all men expected that of all women. Of anything of their desire. One must cut away the truest, deepest parts of themselves in order to hold a man's attention span for longer than five minutes. The second you start to look anything relatively human and anything more than a walking sex kitten or cock sleeve is the second they lose interest.

A man often times doesn't want to actually fill the loneliness, not with anything long term, they just want to relieve the ache in their cock.

At least that's all you've ever known and so who was anyone to judge you to exploit them how they exploited others.

Smiling at your reflection as you apply dark eyeliner to your lid, dragging it across your lash line as you go for a more noire mysterious look since you cannot find out much about your potential benefactor. Not that that worried you, you'd worn many skins before.

A recently divorcee, a 'single mom', but most benefactors liked a heavy power imbalance. They lived for the broke college girl act. Showing up in threadbare dresses that were still cute in an old shit box car you'd borrow from a friend and some classical piece of literature those fucks could recognize but knew they'd never read.

Mostly you figured they enjoyed that broke college girl act because they felt they were "helping you build a solid future" all while neglecting their own real daughters at home that they constantly compared you to. Showed you pictures of, similar in age to you and you'd have to stamp down the disgust at these men who probably didn't even know their real baby girl's favorite color.

Absolving themselves of guilt you supposed.

However this new benefactor was something to be excited about, mostly because of the unknown that he seemed to shroud himself in. No interests filled in, no movies or hobbies or songs that he likes.

Not even a profile picture or his name. Just GZ for now and when you checked the banking information on your wire in, it didn't give you any real leads. Received from a business or estate account that google results had no address or number for.

Only his age, 32. Three years your senior.

Which wasn't too bad of a gap well to you anyway, he saw your age as 25 because anything older than that, even one fucking year, men's interest dropped by sixty percent.

Another message comes through the little app.

GZ: Give me your number.

Aggressively forward as you giggle to yourself reading the message, let the read receipts show your interest when you lock your phone and don't reply. Taking the time to apply a nice dark shade of lipstick that made your mouth absolutely sinful as you wore a skin much too close to the real you. Going to your closet for your dress, knowing he was taking you to a very expensive, very highly rated restaurant, most likely to both flaunt and prove he has money.

Zipping up the velvet body con dress with a halter top, the hem stopped just above the knee and you knew it would ride up when you sat down or walked in your black heels with the pearl strap. Pulling on bicep length lace gloves and putting on an onyx ring on your middle finger before adding your pearl necklace to make a suggestion of what he could do to you at the very steep price of seven thousand dollars.

Some men even paid it and even asked to do it in the parking causing them to pay an expedited fee of four thousand. It meant nothing to you and every bit of power they thought they held over you to them.

Opening a drawer to your vanity all with unused pairs of underwear. Choosing a black lacey pair where the ass would be half exposed by lace and strings digging around for the to go tide pen so you could lightly bleach the crotch to make it seem as if they'd been worn all damn day "just for him"

Fuckin gag me.

Your phone pings again, another notification from the SDSB app.

GZ: I don't like waiting, Sweetheart, give me your number.

This time you reply but only after looking over your outfit in the mirror, debating if he'd be into stockings and ripping them before you realize it might make you look a little too conservative for his tastes.

Bbgrl: tell me what GZ stands for and I'll give you those special digits

GZ: I don't barter

Bbgrl: Everything comes at a cost. You know this otherwise you wouldn't be messaging me.

You watch the bouncing bubbles pop up before his quick reply.

GZ: Ground Zero

GZ: Now give me your fuckin number Princess.

Bbgrl: maybe in person, Mr Zero.

Not giving away your actual number was your number one rule and because the last sugar daddy you cut off went full tilt you had to disconnect your other phone and just hadn't had a chance to get a burner yet.

Picking up a small clutch purse you shove inside your lipstick for the night, your phone, the doctored pair of underwear and you don't even bother to bring any sort of wallet.

Walking to a public place a block or so from your luxury condo before you flag down a cab giving them the address as the man smiles down at your cleavage. Enjoying the view in the rearview and it's a wonder he doesn't crash and kill you both. Leaning down to meet his gaze with a disarming smile, wearing a skin to protect both you and him from harm as you force a giggle.

"Eyes on the road silly." When really you wanted to take the knife strapped to your ribs and slit his throat for thinking he even deserved to stare at you like that.

You wore this dress for attention yes but there is a fine line between appreciation of a body and straight up eye fucking you.

And just because you wore this dress didn't give him the right to stare. Counting down from ten as you have pretty visions of gouging his eyes out only for him to pull up right to the restaurant, acting as if he was going to get out and help you.

"No need." You smile politely, "And the fare?"

You look at the triple zeros and his eyes flash to it in embarrassment, so busy eating you alive with his eyes he forgot to start it.

"On the house for a pretty lady."

Forcing a smile as you give him a thanks, leaving the cab as quickly as you can before you walk inside, twenty minutes late for the date.

Tardiness was a big part of the game, whether it agitated them or made them anxious, it would certainly place a little more power on your initial interaction. Gaging their reaction to your power play always determines how you'll respond. Clueless, lost, down right stupid.

The hostess gives you a warm smile as she welcomes you into the restaurant asking of your party size. You're quick to tell her you're here for GZ.

"Or maybe under the name Ground Zero if the initials are too vague." You smile and watch the hostess blanche a moment before she fixes her face.

"Right this way." Expect she doesn't lead you all the way over there, stops just before the darker corner of the restaurant making a gesture with her hands and you chalk it up to nerves. That maybe he owned the whole fucking restaurant.

Watching his large palm swirl a bourbon straight, watch his other heavily ringed hand card through his ash blonde locks.

"Mr Zero?" You ask with a cat like smile, coming to stand beside the table. He glares up at you either oblivious or acting it as you wait for him to pull out your chair.

"Yer fuckin late Princess." He doesn't wait you out though can tell from a glance you'll stand there with your sexy ass heels rooted to the hardwoods of the restaurant before you'd ever sit down. He doesn't give in, this just happened to give him a chance to show his stature. He slams his drink down, clattering the water glasses and your wine glass filled with a pinkish color. Most likely something sweet. For a moment it makes you wonder if he read your profile considering most men didn't bother and showed it often on their first dates that they hadn't when they ordered you red wine. Which you had as your top dislike.

When he rises he's much much bigger than you. Tall enough you have to crane your head up to look at him, broad shoulders and now that he's fully facing you you can see his scarred face. A deep fissure of discolored skin from just over his eyebrow cutting through his eye flaring over his cheek before tapering off at his throat before it meets another deep scar that's hidden under his shirt.

He didn't even bother with a dress jacket, only a dress shirt, black, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows exposing his tattoos and even more scars, his black vest if swirling velvet on the front only emphasizes his broad chest and tapered waist.

He stands there a moment watching you take him in and he cannot lie he is surprised. Most women cowarded at his size especially when they see his scar and his half clouded bromine eye but you just smile. Maybe even a bit of excitement flashed in your eyes but you stand unmoving still that fuckin cat smirk on your dark stained lips.

"My chair, Mr Zero." You remind him and he snarls, leaning in close to your face tipping your chin up to him. It's here you realize how large his hands are, especially when the other settles at your ribcage a moment. You just hope he doesn't feel the knife nestled there and take it as a threat to himself.

"I told you I didn't like waiting." He growls, "So what makes you think Imma continue this date?"

"You're still here aren't you? Besides," You half guide him by moving your face gently from his grip, stepping towards your chair and he follows, "You wouldn't want to cancel a date with such a pretty girl would you?"

"A pretty woman." He corrects with a growl, pulling back your chair and shoving it in roughly when you sit, leaning behind you to whisper in your diamond clad ear, "Yer no girl that's for sure."

As if to say a predator recognizes a predator but you feign ignorance.

"Year?" You ask, smelling your wine before taking a sip. It's fruity, peach you realize with hints of citrus and angel food cake.

"Didn't ask." He bites waiting for you to ask where the menus were, he makes eye contact with the waiter to signal to start their meals. Oblivious, you take another sip of this amazingly delicious wine.

"Bit of a dessert wine isn't it?" You comment, usually men would blunder by now realizing they aren't as prestigious or well versed as they pretended to be but this man proves to be different once again.

"Peach pairs well with spicy and smokey." Glaring right back at you before a mean smile curls his lips, "Unless ya lied twice on your profile."

You set the wine glass down thanking the waiter when they leave fresh bread. Zero is faster than you grabbing for the crusty pre dinner treat as he butters the rich white center before placing the slice on your plate before starting his own.

"Hmm, I haven't lied on my profile." You refuse to touch his offering for now.

"Sweetheart, you may look twenty five but I know that you're closer to thirty than what you want to admit." There's that cruel smile of his again.

"It's quite rude to make a woman seem older than what she is. Touchy subject ya know?" Going back to sipping your wine as you've decided you may need a buzz to endure this date, "Or maybe you don't have a lot of experience with women. Is that why I'm here?"

Smirking over the vein protruding from his throat but the satisfaction only lasts so long, thoughts rounding back to wondering how the fuck he knew your real age and so quickly.

Suddenly you feel his fingers wrapping around the back of you knee as he pulls you forward leaning over the table.

"Haaah? Ya think I don't have experience with women? Oh sweetheart I could have you begging to take my cock in this bathroom in under ten minutes. But I need you for somethin else." He lets his bruising grip go when he sees a flash of the real you, sees your pretty lip snarl in disgust before you fix your face so quickly it would have him wondering if he ever saw that snarl or not.

He thinks he likes this version more than what his right hand picked out from your profile.

Your profile was vague but your photo album was filled with a lot of photos that men could easily project on or imagine themselves with you. Looking demure, easy going, a submissive.

Really Bakugou can tell you're a fucking brat at best and far from demure.

"Is that true Mr Zero? Sex on the first date is quite expensive." You smile cutely, make it a giggle all while the steak knife whispers to you that it belonged shoved through his hand on the table.

"I bet it is sweetheart." He spits back.

"So…our contract?" You're ready to rush this along thinking that maybe this benefactor isn't going to work out and that you'll have to save your underwear for another time.

He leans back, finally looking a little more relaxed as you bring up business as if contracts and dealings were part of his expertise. Taking a sip of his bourbon as he looks you over in that fine velvet dress he imagines on the floor of his expensive bedroom.

"Dunno can ya behave long enough to talk about it?" Deadly smirk on his lips now, one that makes your stomach clench.

"I always behave, Mr. Zero." A purr, one that changes the tone of the entire dinner, at least for now.

A light scoff but he's smiling, genuinely and he looks so handsome like that. His eyes catch something you don't see before the waiter comes over with two starter salads.

You look down at the fresh bed of greens matching his and try not to grimace that he's most likely ordered dinner for you. Hating when benefactors took it upon themselves as they never paid enough attention to order even remotely right.

"Let's see how dinner goes first yea, princess? Gotta make sure I like it before I buy it." A clear taunt and stab at you to which you give a tight smile. Him placing himself above you but you were determined at the very least to secure the after dinner deposit fee from him that was clearly stated on your profile.

Any dinner lasting longer than two hours or is set after eight thirty pm is considered to be equal to two consultation fees.

He already violated the time since he messaged you at exactly six pm tonight and you were always sure to take your time getting ready.

But you had to finish the fucking date first.

"Okay." Agreeing without issue as you bite your tongue. Finishing your salad and your wine, asking him to order you another glass. Batting your eyelashes and for a second you see his face flash with something other than his gruff nature. Standing with the brief explanation of "freshening up."

Annoyed as you enter the ladies room, looking at your reflection as if to share a what the fuck glance with a friend before rooting around in your bag. Touching up your lipstick, spraying yourself with a bit of your perfume that made all the men insane for you before turning your attention to your hair.

Making sure it was still in perfect placement as you angle your pretty face this way and that. Clutch open on the vanity, the dummy pair of underwear threatening to fall out. Checking your account to see if the rest of this date was worth it when you see your stipulation fee is sitting in your account despite the date only being an hour long thus far.

Figuring you'll make this date worth it now, mostly curiosity getting the best of you over what is going to make this contact so fucking special he's more than willing to pay everything upfront.

To deal with your more cheeky side you used to scare off weaker men.

Clawed fingers curling around the soft pair of underwear, rubbing them between your hands vigorously to make them warm to the touch. To have him thinking that this sexy lingerie style underwear was nestled right to your cunt.

Balling them up as you make your way out of the bathroom while the waitresses gossip over the fact that some violent ringleader was dining there tonight and that he was "dangerously hot." Hushing when they see you pass the refreshment nook before you make your way back to the table.

Thankfully his left hand with all his rings is resting on its side on the table giving you more than enough space to press the warm fabric into his palm and curling his fist around it before sitting back across from him. Giving a flirtatious smile to the large blonde who turns his hand to see what you placed into his palm. Smirking and shaking his head as he looks down at the fabric.

Unfurling it with his large hand and seeing the pair of underwear with a little spot on the crotch that makes him chuckle.

You look over your meal that's been set out, can tell he was polite enough to wait for you as the aroma of spicy smoked meat sits before you. Breathing deeply and hating to admit that you'd actually like this dish. Picking up your fork as you let him become dumbfounded over the thought that you were bare under your dress when that was far from the truth.

Bakugou leans over the very expensive meal on the small table. Grabbing at your jaw a bit tightly so he can turn your face to husk in your ear.

"Now gimme the ones you're actually wearing, Princess." He growls, pulling back to hold out his hand expectantly.

Feigning innocence you look up at him and bat your eyelashes since that worked earlier, even letting your eyes get a little glassy.

"Wh-what are you talking about Mr. Zero?" Voice soft and going softer still when you add, "Those are my underwear. I wore them just for you."

He laughs loudly in your face and his grip tightens, mouth back at your ear with a deadly tone. A mix of playful flirtation and restrained anger.

"Now Princess, 'fore I get mad."

It sends a chill down your spine and a jolt to your cunt. Breaking your facade entirely when you let sharp nails bite into his thick wrist as you yank away your face. Looking around trying to come up with an excuse that this was too much of a public place before he adds.

"We're secluded enough." Letting his fingers wave impatiently with his palm up. Your eyes widen as you see how serious he is. Unable to hide the snarl on your lips or the flash of deep seeded anger in your eyes as you obey a benefactor's command instead of tricking them into thinking they had control.

Shimmying up your little bodycon dress, hooking sharp clawed thumbs into the band of the underwear to bring it down past your thick thighs that part for just a moment exposing your pretty mound to Bakugou by accident. It makes saliva coat his tongue and his cock twitch in his expensive pants.

Quickly fixing the hem of your dress that still tries to ride up thanks to your hips and thighs, balling up the black underwear and slapping it into Bakugou's waiting palm harshly. The corner of his lip curls up as he realizes it's a thong, much better than the dummy pair you gave him moments ago.

"You're such a fuckin pervert." You cross your arms over your chest, pushing up your tits giving the ash blonde a snarling pout. Wholly forgetting about your dinner now as you look away from him, can't believe he's won this round.

"Yea? Who's fault is that? Yer the one who gave me a clean pair of underwear to make me love sick for ya so I'd cough up all my cash." He makes no move to pocket the thin pair of underwear you've just given him, making your eyes dart to look for the approaching waiter, "This work on most men Sweetheart?"

"Tsk, yes." You scoff, "Then they send me whatever I fuckin want."

Pushing away a bit, thinking of leaving from how condescending his tone is. Inspecting the first pair you've given him now that he has the actual pair you'd been wearing, looking closely at the crotch.

"Did ya use a bleach pen on these 'fore ya came in?" He laughs when he watches your face blanch, most men couldn't tell. Just thought it was real and went with it, asked for more.

The waiter starts to come back to the table with another glass of Bakugou's bourbon and your wine, trying not to crack. Shoving down the panic and letting your nails bite into your palm letting crescent moons form in your soft skin. To try not to shove his hands into his lap to save you the embarrassment because the last thing you want him to know is that he's actually getting under your skin. He looks over his shoulder to follow your gaze, feral smile on his mouth.

"Besides, who's the real pervert here, Me for enjoying a pretty woman's time," He rolls the dark fabric around in his hand, still warm from your cunt and when he gets to the crotch it's damp, sticky, "Or you, for getting off to playing some dumb ass men outta thousands."

"I'm not-"

"Not what? Wet?" He laughs, letting his thumb slide through the slick of your underwear, uncaring that the waiter is here now. Setting down the drinks and forgoing asking how the meal was quickly slipping away in hopes of not bothering Ground Zero.

"Sweetheart I bet I could run my fingers through that sticky cunt and everyone in this restaurant would hear it." Bringing his thumb up to his mouth licking at it as one would to get sauce off their fingers, his eyes flutter and suddenly your cheeks burn.

"You're insufferable." You hiss, crossing your legs now, still unable to look at him.

"Ya know, I hate liars." He tosses your fake pair of underwear, pocketing the thong you wore with one hand while the other swirls his drink, "Ya've lied three times now."

"I have not."

"Ya have. Yer age, yer whole personality, yer underwear." He lists them on his fingers and funny enough you chose to die on only one of those hills.

"I am twenty five." You hiss, grabbing at your wine and downing it in three swallows.

"But yer not." He chuckles, eyes flicker to your face, you don't have foundation on, going for a mostly natural look, and Bakugou has good eyes where most men didn't, "Ya've got crows feet sweetheart. Seems like ya've smiled a lot in your life."

Reflexivity you go to hide the corner of your eyes, they crease heavily when you really smile. Everyone who knew you, actually knew you, always made the comment of "you smile with your eyes."

"Ah come on they're barely noticeable and nothin to be ashamed about." He chuckles, pulling at your wrists so he could see your face again, "Gimme a smile."

"Fuck off." You hiss waving him away dismissively trying to regain control, "The contract Mr Zero."

He sighs, annoyed as he leans back, "We haven't finished dinner."

"I'd like to skip to dessert." A snarling hiss as you push away what was probably the best meal you could've ever had.

"Oh would you?" Deadly smirk, "I could skip to dessert iffin ya want. In my car or the bathroom, your pick Princess."

"Again you're fucking insufferable." You make motion to stand, to leave, only for his strong hand to catch your wrist and pull you into his lap making this somehow worse.

"What's wrong? Embarrassed now?" He tilts your chin to him and you squeeze your eyes shut in defiance he chuckles lowly, "Tell me yer real age and I'll stop teasing, for now."

You open your eyes to glare at him for a long, long time. No judgment in those bromine eyes as he patiently waits for your answer. You sigh, scratching roughly at his undercut with your long nails whether it was a strategic move or your fingers having a mind of their own, you weren't sure. The only thing you were sure of was that this man was trouble.

Big trouble.

Yet you answer honestly anyway.

"Twenty nine." It's soft, genuinely this time as if you might be a little embarrassed about it when you know you shouldn't. He smiles up at you, letting his thumb linger at one of the corners of your eyes before he lets his fingers trace your face down to your jaw.

"See, won't so bad to admit it was it?" Genuine gentle tone, his hand on your hip squeezing at the fat there.

Your heart races and that foreboding feeling creeps up your throat as you're slowly realizing that you are no longer the one who was hunting.

No, no, now you were being hunted.

Nails bite harshly into his nape as you stand, snarl to your lips and all he can do is chuckle at your flippant attitude.

"M leaving." Holding out your manicured hand, "Give me my underwear back."

"No, I paid for it." He growls really spurring on your temper now.

"All you men are the same. Pigs who want to keep their dicks wet." A scoff as you snarl your pretty lips.

"And I can say all women are the same. Bitches who want to keep their pockets full." He retorts forcing your sharp claws to grab onto the cheeks of what you don't realize is the most powerful man in the entire country.

Even making sure your nails bite into the skin of his cheeks, "I don't need your fucking money."

"Then why're ya here sweetheart?" He smirks up at you, grabbing onto your wrist tightly.

"Fuck you. You don't know me." Shoving his face and escaping his tight grip before you begin to stomp from the restaurant with your head held high.

"You'll be crawling back to me, princess." He calls out with a chuckle.

"I won't!" You send a snarling growl back, unable to get through the too quiet dining room to the exit of the five star place.

Hissing through your teeth with an echoing groan as the night air hits you doing little to cool your temper while you hail a cab.

Pulling up the sugar baby app on your phone going to his profile to block him but before you can a message pops up.

GZ: See ya in two months sweetheart.

You'd never blocked a mark faster in your entire life.

But the thing you don't know about him yet is that Bakugou Katsuki always kept his promises.

A/N: yay! You've gotten to the end! Thank you so much for reading! Now I have plans to make this a series however I'm not very good at long term things if I'm being honest. Lmfao but please! If you liked or loved this reblog it! I'd love to hear in my inbox or in the body of the reblog or even in your tags of your reblog what you thought of this!

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #sugar daddy bakugou #sugar baby reader #how the fuck do tags work anymore honestly 😂

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