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seren1tyhaze · 3 months

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poison in my mind

PAIRING: idol!jisung x afab older stylist reader

WORD COUNT: 5.8k

SUMMARY: he has been your poison for years - Jisung with his innocent looking face, steely gaze, and wicked tongue. you do your best to keep a professional relationship with him during your work as a stylist for NCT Dream but his calls of "Noona" on set continue to test your patience.

AUTHOR NOTE: A VERY belated happy birthday to Andy Park and a big thank you to SM for letting us have that Poison live performance at the end of the year. This has been half written ever since the Poison track video behind vlog went up a million years ago but fueled even more by the dance intro at MMA. His more recent lives may have also served as inspiration. I hope you all enjoy this very self indulgent fic made especially for all my friends who also love Jisung <3

WARNINGS: explicit smut, idolverse, pet names (including Noona kink I'm so sorry)

PLAYLIST: Poison by NCT Dream, Quiet Down by NCT Dream, OK! by NCT U

dreaming 'bout you, dreaming 'bout you

~~ The set is buzzing with nervous energy in the dimly lit space, dark blue light cascading over the stage area dressed with large floral arrangements that almost make it look like the ocean floor. Renjun is talking to the camera filming their behind vlog footage and you look up from the shirt you are steaming when you hear his voice.

“Dream will try for the sexy vibe for the first time,” with a sly smirk.

You can’t help but chuckle as the makeup artist next to you elbows your side and you tut at her, waving the steamer to quiet her. It wasn’t a secret that the Poison track video was going to be beloved by fans because of the concept and the way the members were styled. You had been tasked with pulling some of the key looks for the video, taking an opportunity to incorporate different textures like the metal grommets and fringe on the leather jacket Renjun currently was wearing. You watch proudly as he stretches his arms over his head in the center of the flowers, torso muscles rippling under the sheer mesh shirt.

You hadn’t been on staff for very long, a couple years of working under the main stylist under your belt. They had been hesitant to give you bigger opportunities due to your young age and lack of experience, but your boss saw that you had a great eye. It didn’t hurt that you were always the first one to volunteer for less than desirable tasks and always arrived early to shoots and stayed late.

“Sorry, this one’s a little too small, did you have others?” comes a voice behind you and you turn to see Mark, holding out one of the large metal rings you had laid out for him in his dressing room.

“Oh sorry, yes, of course,” you reply, smiling softly at him before kneeling down to dig in your bag for the small pouch holding the extra accessories. He was always so polite to the staff, greeting everyone and even when he was clearly exhausted, doing as many takes as the director needed.

“This one might work better and it’s adjustable,” you reply, taking his hand and sliding the ring on his pointer finger. You squeeze his hand gently before he inspects the rings, holding it out in front of him.

“Noona,” comes a harsh and low voice suddenly, causing you to move your head to the side of Mark’s leather clad legs to see an annoyed looking Jisung with crossed arms, shirtless and barefoot.

“Jisung, where is your shirt?” Mark replies, half laughing as he turns to face him, scratching at the back of his neck.

Ignoring him, Jisung returns his gaze to you and glares at your crouched position on the floor in front of Mark. A curious Renjun walks up at this moment, peeling a tangerine and flicking narrowed eyes between the three of you. Mark shrugs at him before walking away, answering a message on his phone.

“You tailored the crotch of these pants wrong, it feels weird,” Jisung continues, voice even and tinged with frustration.

Your face flushes at this, dropping the pouch back in your bag and grabbing your pins, suddenly on your feet and in front of Jisung.

“How do you know it’s wrong?” you ask, knitting your brows together as you look up at him.

He looks good and you know he knows it. Something has shifted in Jisung in the past year - especially since they returned from tour. He carries himself differently, with a different level of confidence and wears it well. Today is no different and the fact that he just barged onto set without a shirt on is evidence. His dark blue hair is styled perfectly, long strands dangling in his eyes and contrasting beautifully with his sharp jawline.

“Here, feel,” he tells you simply, pulling your hand to his crotch and you almost let yourself palm him through the tight denim until you snap back to reality and pull your arm back. His eyes hold no emotion, dark and still, long eyelashes blinking at you temptingly. His lips are soft and plump and you want nothing more than to close the distance between the two of you and taste the glossy lip mask.

And there it is, your poison, Park Jisung. When you had graduated early from your program a few years ago, you had been focused on your career and hadn’t spent much time dating. You had some people you went out on dates with every once and a while and had your fair share of waking up in a stranger’s bed after a long night out. But Jisung had caught you by surprise. Something about the way he was so forward and aggressive with you made your brain turn to mush around him. Your heartbeat would quicken, palms sweat, and filthy thoughts would swirl in your mind until you could indulge in them with your hand pressed between your thighs later that night.

A heavy sigh comes from Renjun, accompanied by a shake of his head, as he walks out a nearby door muttering something about not wanting to see Jisung’s dick.

You flush violently, grabbing at Jisung’s bicep harshly and pulling him to his dressing room, leaving the door propped open intentionally as you take the layered black tank off the hanger and hold it out to him.

“Please put the rest of your outfit on, I think they are going to be ready for you soon,” you sigh as soon as you’re alone, reaching for the box that holds the platform boots you were reusing from a shoot with Haechan a couple months prior.

You both move silently as he pulls the shirt over his head, staring at the long leather cords before lifting his head back up to you. You move behind him, reaching over his broad shoulders to pull the leather cords around his neck and then letting the ends dangle in front of his toned chest. You try to avoid brushing your hands against his bare shoulders as he steps into the boots and ignore that his ass brushes against your stomach when he bends down slightly to zip them up.

“I just don’t know about these pants, are they the right length?” he asks, tugging at the material at his thighs. His tone is whining and defiant, lighter than how he was in front of everyone, but still slightly combative. He knows you’re weak for this very tone, as he can usually get you to do whatever he wants if he just adds it into whatever he says.

You sigh and move around him, dropping to your knees at his feet, slapping his hand away from pulling at the fabric. You pull the pants leg out of his left boot, pulling lightly and examining the hemline. You’re about to correct him when you suddenly feel his hand soft on your hair.

“You look so good from this angle,” he murmurs, voice low and sultry, causing you to jerk your head up and look at him from the floor.

Your lower lip is instantly caught in your teeth, sinking into the flesh deeply as you try to control your breathing, unable to stop yourself from blinking up at him. You feel drawn into his dark eyes and his hand in your hair is almost overwhelming.

He lets out a groan, tightening his fingertips on your scalp, exhaling audibly and clenching his other hand into a fist at his side.

“What am I going to do with you,” he tuts, dropping his hand to your chin and gripping it gently.

You rise from your knees, glancing at the open door just as Jaemin bounces by, screaming at something Haechan is doing. Suddenly aware of where you are, you step forward, adjusting the cords aimlessly.

“What happened to my sweet, innocent Jisung?” you whisper, staring at the soft skin of his collarbone and wishing you could press your lips against it forever.

“Don’t act surprised. You created this monster, Noona, dressing me in all these sexy outfits. How could you think I would stay your bright eyed baby Sungie forever?” he asks back, tucking loose strands of your hair behind your ear. His words are biting, even if they do hold some truth.

Memories of him dozing off on your shoulder during long bus rides and hastily helping him into heavy jackets and necklaces during quick changes on tour come flooding in, mixed with the heavy, lustful stares you feel on you when you wear a low cut shirt or on hot summer days in Thailand when you wore thin athletic shorts in the airport.

He had kissed your lips gently a year ago after many bottles of soju and when the rest of the members were preoccupied by endless rounds of karaoke. You had stopped him then, told him that as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t. Ever since that moment, he had made every effort to get you alone when he could, using every excuse under the sun, today’s outburst nothing new. You still remember how soft his lips felt on yours and the fire under your arm as he held you close after you rejected him.

Back on set, you’re packing up your bag again when you’re called over to check something on the computer from Jeno’s scenes. You give your feedback and suddenly your eyes are drawn up to where Jisung is filming, camera close to his face, light illuminating his beautiful features perfectly.

“Dreaming ‘bout you, dreaming ‘bout you,” echoes across the large soundstage and your heart is pounding in your chest as he plays with the cords at his neck, just as you had earlier, chests pressed up against each other in the dressing room. He makes eye contact with you briefly when the take ends and you look away quickly, embarrassed.

While you had been released to go for the day, you take your time packing the rest of your stuff, helping the makeup artists clean their station and even rearranging some chairs that barely needed adjustment. You watch the way he moves confidently, take after take, adjusting the jacket so his shoulders show boldly against the dark material. His fingers brush through the cords, pulling them up to his teeth at times before dropping them, leaving plump lips open before cracking a large smile at the reaction of the staff. In between takes he shakes his dark hair, casting his gaze down to the floor until someone asks him a question. You watch as he smiles and winks at the makeup artist powdering his cheek and you feel nervous energy stir in your stomach. You can’t bear to watch much more, so you slip out when he isn’t looking in your direction.

When you finally are home, feet pushed into fluffy slippers and sipping on steaming green tea you had just prepared, you peel the sheet mask off and rub the remaining serum into your cheeks and forehead. You are flipping through a magazine your coworker had given you on set, paying attention to the tabbed pages they had flagged for inspiration when your phone buzzes on the table next to you. A message from the head stylist fills your screen as you tap into it.

Jisung left his street shoes at set, did you take them home? He said he “needs them” for tomorrow.

You sigh and go to the shoebox by your door to find his Nike sneakers tucked neatly, laces wrapped nicely. You quickly reply to your boss, saying you don’t mind bringing them to the dorm since you know the managers had a late night meeting tonight. Running a brush through your hair, you dot some perfume on your wrists and behind your ear before grabbing your keys.

You fiddle with the edge of your oversized sweater in the elevator as you climb the floors to his dorm, feeling a nervous pit grow in your stomach. Finally outside, you knock quickly before dropping it down to hold the box with both hands.

The door swings open and Jisung is standing tall in front of you, grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips, hair damp. A dark zip-up hoodie covers his chest and it’s unzipped just enough that you can tell he isn’t wearing a shirt underneath. You can’t help but let your mind wander back to shirtless Jisung pulling your hand to his crotch earlier and wonder if he was just lounging in his room in the sweatpants. Or worse, just his boxers.

“Hi baby,” he slurs out, lips curving up at the edge into a mischievous smile as he props his arm up on the door, leaning down as if he might kiss you. His sweatshirt hikes up on his waist when he does this, revealing a large swath of skin.

You shove the box at him, pushing him back into the room with it, letting it drop into his hands. You fling your bag on the table near the door and step out of your shoes.

“Don’t hi baby me, Park Jisung. I know you left these there so you could see me tonight. Did it really take you multiple hours to realize you weren’t wearing the shoes you came in?” you reply with a huff, picking up a sealed water bottle on the kitchen counter and taking a long sip.

Sweat is pricking at your hairline and you are starting to regret not texting one of the assistant managers or drivers to come get the shoes instead.

Jisung chuckles and sets the shoebox on a chair, reaching out to take the water bottle from you and gulping down the rest.

“Don’t be mad, baby,” he replies, leaving heavy emphasis on the pet name, stepping closer to you and wrapping strong arms around your waist, thumbs instantly finding the hem of your sweater and travelling across your lower back.

You can’t help how your body reacts to his touch, feeling your chest meet his, nipples hardening under the knit fabric now tugged down and exposing your cleavage. Your breath catches in your throat as you try to speak, looking up at him through your eyelashes for the second time today.

“Come on, I’m catching up on our show,” he says softly, lips grazing across your cheek gently. You had been watching the same show for the past few months, texting each other during episodes here and there, and chatting about it whenever you saw each other. He had complained none of the other members would watch it with him and while you would never let him know this, you had lied and said you were also planning to watch it.

Against your better judgement, you let him guide you to his small room, where his large tv is paused on the latest episode of the space docuseries.

“Oh, I haven’t watched this one yet,” you admit, dropping down to sit at the edge of his bed.

He clicks to restart the episode and unzips the sweatshirt, moving to remove it and reveal his bare chest.

“Jisung,” you say sternly and he chuckles, zipping it back up halfway, and plopping down on the bed next to you. He pulls the hood up over his dark hair for good measure before propping himself up against the pillows he has leaned against the wall. You settle back, leaving some space between the two of you and pulling a hamster plushie into your lap to nervously fiddle with.

While your eyes had started to get heavy back at your apartment, you are now wired, your body coursing with electricity and hypersensitive to every movement from the man next to you. He reaches for his phone occasionally, letting out light chuckles at messages from Chenle and even daring to post a couple Bubble messages. You thank whatever higher power exists that your phone was still tucked in your bag at the door, so he didn’t see yours light up when he sent the message. It was a drunken guilty pleasure you had indulged in and ever since receiving the first message tailored with your name, you couldn’t stop yourself from renewing the subscription.

His legs keep brushing against yours when he readjusts his position on the bed and somehow has gotten so close that his shoulder is now brushing against yours. You try to shift away, but he only closes the distance again when you do so. Your heart is pounding in your chest and you’re having a difficult time focusing on the show.

Suddenly the screen is filled with bright colors as they depict beautiful graphics of what scientists imagine the birth of a star looks like and a gasp falls from your lips as you lean forward, eyes flickering across the screen to take in the beautiful scene.

“You’re so pretty when you nerd out over this stuff,” comes his low voice, suddenly close to your ear, hand resting in the middle of your back.

You lean back in reaction, trapping his arm between you and the pillow, turning slightly to face him.

“Coming from NASA’s number one stan, please,” you reply lightly, shoving the plushie at him playfully. You let a chuckle fall from your lips and shake your head lightly, causing your hair to cascade over your shoulders.

He grabs at it and throws it off the edge of the bed, hands suddenly tight on your hips and pulling you into his lap, possessively gripping your ass as you straddle his legs.

Your lips drop open in surprise, both of you breathing heavy at the sudden movement. You feel your responsible self tapping your shoulder but finally decide to let the years of desire bubble to the surface and propel your lips to close the gap with his.

You move your lips across his gently, resisting the urge to push your tongue out immediately or bite down on his lower lip. He tightens his grip on you in response, pushing his crotch up to meet yours. You swear you can feel him through his pants which only makes you want him more.

He pulls away, taking your cheek in his other hand and looking between your eyes as if searching for some sort of silent answer to a silent question. You can almost see his own voice of reason forcing him to pause, if only for a moment.

“You ready to deal with the consequences of that monster you created, Noona?” he asks in a devastatingly low tone before moving his lips down to mouth at your chest, pushing the knit fabric to the side to bite at your shoulder.

A sigh falls from your lips as you let your head roll back, entire body on fire as he marks the skin at your neck, teeth sharp on your skin. You can’t help as your hands slide over the zipper of his hoodie and unzip it slowly, pushing the fabric down his shoulders to expose his toned chest. Running your hands over his hard muscles, you dig your fingernails gently, eliciting a deep groan from Jisung.

“Babyyy,” he sighs out, sliding his hand up to your throat and applying pressure there, pulling you forward to meet your lips again. The kiss is more urgent this time, tongue pressing deep into your mouth and hand gripping you tighter as he continues.

You let your hands slide down his torso, running over his abs and sliding them to his back to pull yourself closer to him. Before you can pull yourself fully flush against his chest, you are being flipped over, head falling back into the pillowy surface.

“Are you sure about this,” you ask, voice wavering despite every intention you had to form a confident question. Your eyes are flicking between his dark ones, as they had many times before, but suddenly holding so much more meaning in this intimate space.

“Are you not?” he asks back, head cocking lightly to the side, thumbs never stopping the circles they are rubbing into your hip bones.

“That’s not an answer,” you quip back, grabbing onto his hands to force him to focus. Unfortunately for you, it did the exact opposite.

You pull your eyes away from his, looking at your hands now pressed up against each other against the comforter. Your hand looks tiny next to his, his fingers could almost wrap fully around the tops of yours and that makes your mind fuzzy. You pulse your fingers, stretching them along his, feeling the length of them and how hot they are to the touch.

“Noona,” he calls, not as harsh and biting as on set, but still drawing you back to reality quickly.

His voice finally softens as he sees your watery blinking eyes, overstimulation creeping up on you before you’ve done much more than make out. He drops his thumb down the side of your face, caressing the space between your ear lobe and jaw tenderly. You want to look away, you want to push up and capture his lips in yours, you want to pull that stupid hamster plushie over your face and hide your burning cheeks.

“You know, I want it, I like,” he states, as if that is a full sentence other than in the context of the song they were filming with all day. His lips turn up in a small, shy smile at the end, showing a glimpse of that quiet boy you’ve always known and your heart settles a little in your chest. You nod rapidly a few times, sinking your nails into the palm of his hand and letting your eyes flutter shut.

His lips are on yours again quickly and that wicked hand that was just caressing your skin is now tightening around your neck again, which forces you up into an arch on the bed, pressing your lower body against his hardening cock. His tongue feels hot and wet in your mouth and you can’t help the moans that are escaping every time you have to pull back for air.

He sits up, straddling either side of your legs, tugging at your shirt and you manage to sit halfway up on your elbows, almost tearing the delicate fabric of your sweater as you rip it off, fumbling with the clasp of your bra as Jisung’s mouth is suddenly latched onto your neck, dropping heated kisses down your collarbone.

He sees you struggling and simply presses a strong thumb to the clasp, letting the cotton fabric slide off your arms and he tosses it clear across the room. This draws your attention to the door, which you realize now is cracked and you pray to every higher power that Renjun isn’t home.

“Hey, eyes on me,” comes the low voice above you again and you’re drawn back in, tuning out the distractions around you. He seems more amused than annoyed, which you have to appreciate given how long you’ve both waited for this exact moment.

Jisung makes quick work of removing his pants and boxers, reaching for a condom from his nightstand as you push down your own sweats, pausing at the thin band of your underwear. He sees you, dropping the foil packet to the bed and dips his head down, teeth dragging the elastic quickly, causing you to jump and let out a giggle.

“SUNG!” you yell weakly, trying to push his dark blue locks away as he continues to drag the dampened fabric down your legs.

He somehow manages to do it pretty easily, without getting too caught up on your knees or thighs, only struggling once he’s at your ankles and ripping them off with his hand, letting them drop to the floor with your bra.

He simply shrugs at you, a smile tugging at his mouth as he smooths those huge hands over your thighs, kneading the flesh there, eyes transfixed on your naked body. Your whole body is on fire and you silently beg for him to get on with it, even as it looks like he is about to swallow you whole.

A creeping monster your in your brain tells you you should feel more self conscious with him seeing you like this, despite both being equally exposed, realizing how many times you’ve seen him half clothed or even less. His tongue darts out to lick his lips as he reaches up, covering your breast easily with his hand, thumb teasing your nipple absently. Your breath hitches in your throat and you can’t help but hold your breath as pleasure begins to flood through your body.

You beg your own gaze not to lower, not ready to see the size of him fully hard. You’ve unfortunately seen almost all the members’ dicks but usually in quick, embarrassed, accidental glimpses. Well, except for that one time Jaemin was literally helicopter swinging it around in the dressing room when you walked in with a tray of iced americanos. Both him and Jeno couldn’t speak to you for two weeks while Chenle continued to bring it up every chance he could, even mimicking the motion during sound check at their next stop.

You are startled at the sound of him tearing the condom wrapper, rolling it quickly on and leaning back down, face inches from yours as he cups the side of your face again. You instinctively nuzzle lightly into his hand at the contact, letting your eyes flutter shut as you draw your lips to his hand, smelling faintly of the lube from the condom. You kiss in between his thumb and forefinger lightly and before you know it, he’s slipping his thumb in between your spit covered lips, pad of his finger gently pressing against your tongue.

You gasp but drag your eyes lazily to meet his, knowing your own hunger is visible now not only in your gaze but also in the eager sucking of your lips.

He groans, taking the chance to push into you and you swear you see stars. Your eyes widen but pull his thumb further into your mouth, teeth grazing across the tip of his finger erratically as your hips buck up to pull him impossibly close.

Jisung’s eyes are fluttering shut, thumb dropping from your lips, now flushed red with teeth marks and slick with spit, sliding down to clutch your throat once again. Your own hand flies to your chest, groping at yourself, desperate for something to hold onto as he picks up the pace of his thrusts.

He’s quiet, but with deep and passionate groans tumbling from his lips every once and a while. You watch as sweat begins to form at his hairline, perfect face beautiful in the dim light of his room, quiet music floating from his tv’s speakers as the episode is long forgotten and scrolling through the credits screen endlessly. Each noise that bubbles up from his chest equally soothes and paralyzes you, your own personal brand of poison seeping coldly through your veins. Your lips are perpetually hung open, mouth becoming so dry you can barely squeak out your own moans.

You feel your orgasm building suddenly after a particularly strong thrust and you swallow harshly, moving to speak to alert him. He doesn’t need any warning, reaching down to throw your leg over his shoulder and angle his lower body to perfectly hit that same spot over and over.

In seconds the poison is washing over you, lapping first at your feet like waves at the shore, nearly knocking you out as you float high above yourself, almost feeling like you’re having an out of body experience. Your chest is heaving as he slows his movements, as if he’s going to pull out.

A confused look forms on your face, head cocking to the side as you grip his arm, shaking your head wildly. Your hair is sticking to the back of your neck and you feel too hot on his plush bedding, but that isn’t reason to stop.

“Wait…what about…” you ask, confused, knowing he hasn’t come. Your eyes flick to the door again, wondering if he’s heard something while you were swimming a galaxy of bliss post orgasm.

He smiles at you, sliding out slowly and disposing of the condom quickly. He walks back over and takes your hand, bringing you to rise on shaky legs, standing naked beside his bed as he takes both your cheeks in his hands and kisses you deeply on the lips.

“I was thinking it would be better to continue what we started on set,” he purrs against you when he finishes ravaging your swollen lips.

A mischievous look forms in your eyes and you drop your hand to his stiff cock, giving it a few experimental pumps with the mix of lube and pre cum.

“Oh yeah?” is all you can reply, sinking slowly to your knees, still managing to tease him at this moment. You drop your hands to let them rest at your thighs, pressed together in an attempt to cool the burning heat still there.

He hisses out as soon as he can see you below him, bicep flexing as he runs his hand through his hair, shaking his head in feigned annoyance. His lids are heavy and all you can see are the whites of his eyes as they roll up in ecstasy.

You run your hands up your body, fingering the side of your neck and then tangling your fingers in your own hair seductively, never looking away from the man standing above you.

“Show me how good you can be for me, Noona,” he grunts out suddenly, gripping your chin way tighter than he had in the dressing room earlier. You grit your teeth but try to keep your face even as he tilts your head lightly, as if studying your face.

You gulp audibly and take him in your hands, finally faced with what you already knew was going to be stretching your cheeks as you were definitely going to struggle fitting him in your small mouth.

You tongue at his slit teasing it gently before sucking at the tip, letting it rest in your open mouth, eyes flicked up at him menacingly. You can tell from the look in Jisung’s eyes that he is dying to ram his cock down your throat but is trying so hard to let you set the pace.

Without any warning, you're sliding him further and further into your mouth, hands massaging his smooth calves to ground you. He’s getting louder now and one of his hands is playing in your hair, every once and a while gripping it tighter.

It only takes a few gentle thrusts till his voice becomes more strained and he’s tapping you on the head as a poor attempt of warning you he’s close. You resolve to let him spill into your mouth, but as soon as he comes the sudden movement causes most of the mess to land on your cheek and shoulder.

His loud exclamation of his pet name for you still ringing in the air, his hand loosens in your hair and you’re on your feet, hands settling on his broad chest, a hazy look of satisfaction on your face.

He seems mesmerised by you covered in his cum and draws a thumb up to that same spot between your ear and jaw, sliding it down and through the mess he made on your face. It’s as if everything’s moving in slow motion as your bottom lip drops open without a word and he slides his thumb into welcoming lips. You taste him, all of him, as he watches you suckle on the digit and blush form on your cheeks under the shine of your skin.

“Fucking filthy baby,” he whispers out, yanking you towards him as he sits on the edge of his bed and lifts you into his lap.

You can feel him harden under you and feel yourself warm up as his cock brushes against your core. You grind down on his lap which is met by him only gripping your waist tighter and landing a light smack on your ass. You grin at this and lean forward to kiss him, pushing your tongue greedily into his mouth.

“Already wanting more?” he asks with a mild mocking tone when you pull back, breathless and red in the face. He’s fully groping your ass at this point, massaging your cheeks with his fingers and pressing his palms into the thick flesh there.

You nod aggressively as you grind down on his cock again, spreading your thighs a bit more for better leverage. You want nothing more than for him to slide his bare cock into you right here and let you ride him through multiple orgasms, your tits bouncing right at eye level as he groans into your mouth through open mouthed kisses.

He merely laughs, pulling you out of your fantasy and reaches awkwardly for another condom, hand firmly keeping you in place.

“As much as I want what you want right now baby, let’s make sure there’s no-“ he starts out, rolling the condom on with shaky hands.

“SUNG, PLEASE!” you yell, clasping a hand over his mouth in embarrassment.

Even in the midst of it all, all the lustful years leading up to this moment, all the hidden glances and late night drunken thoughts, he is still your poison. Something that worms its way into your mind, into your heart. Normally, you wouldn’t even imagine being this close to someone without protection but somehow, Jisung does something to you that makes you want to be reckless. You want to be reckless with your heart, let it be swallowed whole by him. You want to throw your body on him, let him tear you down and degrade you and use you. You want to give him everything and every bit of love you can offer. You think you can see the two of you growing old together, sitting quietly in a park watching your grandchildren play together in the distance.

But you see, that’s the problem with poison. It gets in your veins, in your lungs, in your heart and slowly sweeps and finally, finally tears you down. You float high above yourself again, seeing stars as Jisung releases into the condom and his head falls against your chest. You are both quiet and unsure of what comes next. The poison of this night will wear off soon and reality will set in, leaving you only the memories of this night to return to in your dreams.

#nct smut #nct fanfic #nct x reader #park jisung #jisung x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream smut #jisung smut #park jisung x reader

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st-kitten · 5 months

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WARNINGS: (m.) masturbation, nicknames (baby, babygirl, good girl, princess, pretty girl) little megumi being painstakingly adorable

life as a single father trying to make ends meet was hard for toji fushiguro. his job as a security guard for some company didn't pay much. whatever he earned went into bills, rent, and groceries, leaving next to nothing for him to save or even spend. how he wished there was a simpler way to earn. he'd be exhausted by the time he came home and crashed, only to be woken up by megumi. as much as he loved the kid, getting him ready for school and out the door was harder than an mma fight.

all the babysitters he hired were useless. most of them agreed just to get into his pants so, when they found out that they were hired 'because' he couldn't be home, they left in disappointment.

toji never relied on his neighbours either. partially because they were too old or kids themselves, with parents who also hired babysitters. the closest anyone ever came to being a candidate was his next door neighbour, you.

but he vowed to never approach you. even if it meant leaving megumi to cry midday, over a glass of spilled milk. why?

[flashback]

toji had just helped megumi catch the school bus. waving him goodbye, he went back inside the building. the days got colder each passing day, which meant that he was going to have to repair the broken heater and buy some warm clothes. how ever was he going to afford it in time?

collecting the mail, he stood in the temporary warmth of the elevator, yawning. he really wanted to go back to sleep. his work began at 10 am, so he still had two hours, maybe he could take a nap. or fix that heater himself.

he stood in front of his apartment, looking through his pockets for the keys when he heard muffled noises from the apartment next door. he had only seen you once, when he accidentally took your mail instead of his and had to give it back to you. you always seemed distant and cold, so hearing you softly, yet loudly screaming a series of "yes! yes! keep doing that!" at 8 am made him wonder what the fuck was wrong with you.

he let it slide. people had lives.

but you didn't stop there. when toji came back from his work at night, holding a bag of vegetables, he heard you again.

"oh god! yes!"

and two days later when toji brought megumi home early as he got sick in school, "just like that, baby!" he had to keep babbling random trivia to his son so that he wouldn't hear you. how many times is she going to do this?

when it was toji's day off, and he was taking a nap on the couch, he heard you moaning again. it wasn't that loud, but the single wall between your apartment and his did a terrible job at muffling it. toji was glad that megumi was at school.

[back in present time]

months had passed by and he was still not used to hearing you. he'd forgotten what you looked like, so he didn't recognise you whenever you passed by him or even when you were in the elevator with him. all he knew was that he hated you for being so disturbing.

the day he was dreading finally came when he wanted someone to look after megumi for the night as he had to cover someone's shift, and not a single person was available. with an ale tankard of reluctance, he rang the doorbell, truly expecting you to open it naked, some angry fucker peeking from behind 'cause he didn't get to finish...

so when you opened the door looking the complete opposite; wearing loose sweatpants, a barbie hoodie, house slippers and your hair tied in a messy bun, half a banana dangling in your mouth... toji held back a sigh of relief.

"hey... i'm toji, i live next door," he said, trying to sound sincere.

"i mow woo yooah," you said, chewing the banana quickly, and swallowed it.

"right... listen, i gotta cover an extra shift and i need someone to look after this brat for the night."

you held back a laugh upon hearing him refer to his son like that. you'd only seen megumi from a distance. but, you had no reason to refuse.

"sure! i'd be happy to!"

toji was still unsure about this, but there was no backing out now.

"cool. i'll send him in twenty minutes." toji vanished before you could say anything else. you chuckled to yourself. for a man of his size and built, he sure was a chicken when it came to communication.

you cleaned your living room before he could come back. your place was kid-friendly enough. you made sure you prep the kitchen in case he hadn't had dinner.

your doorbell rang and you scurried to open it.

"here's a list of things you'll have to do... he's... a little tough. but he's a good kid."

you took the list and gave it a brief look and nodded.

"alright, megs, you're gonna be staying with this lady today. i'll be back soo-"

megumi began tugging his father's pants grumpily, upset at his words.

"don't be like that, kid..." toji sighed. he didn't like to exhibit his personal life in front of others.

"please? i'll get you ice cream."

megumi's ears perked upon hearing ice cream. "chocolate?" he cooed.

"yes. now go inside."

clutching a tattered dog plushie (with two heads for some reason), he stepped inside your apartment, looking down.

toji knelt down to meet his eyes. straightening megumi's sweater, he said, "i'll be back tomorrow morning. behave, okay?" megumi nodded, almost on the verge of crying. you held back the 'awwws'.

"alright... i'm trusting you. don't f- mess it up," said toji, looking at you with a glare.

"i won't..." you just smiled solemnly. you'd say the same if you were in his position.

toji wanted to tell you to not have sex for that one night, but he chose not to add fuel to the fire. who was he to tell you not to fuck? if anything, he was mildly jealous that you got to enjoy it so much.

toji left and you turned back to megumi, who was standing in your living room, anxious to move a muscle.

you sighed. "hello, megumi. i'm y/n." you crouched down and held out your hand to him. he hesitated before holding three of your fingers and shaking them. you smiled.

"sorry about this... you don't know me at all and now you're stuck with me. must be weird."

megumi stayed silent. you got up and went to the kitchen, which was open and visible from your living room easily. you opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of chocolate milk that you'd gotten free with something.

"would you like some?" you shook the carton. megumi loved chocolate in any form. not wanting to sound too excited or desperate, he gave a curt nod. you poured him a cup of milk and handed it to him.

"you can sit down wherever you want."

megumi scanned the room and spotted a bean bag. he'd never seen one. he looked at you and then back at it.

"you wanna sit there? sure!" you placed a hand on his head and led him to the corner. you held his cup for him while he tried to sit. he immediately sank into the bean bag, hearing the sound of tiny malleable balls that shifted as he sat down. megumi's eyes widened as he tried not to bolt out of there. when he was settled down, he found it pretty comfortable. he liked how he could stretch his legs and sit at the same time.

"comfy, right?" you said, handing him his cup of chocolate milk. the way he held it with both hands made you want to scream in a pillow. no way that asscrack of a man was his father.

you went over the list once more. it was simple. bedtime was 9 PM, no allergies, likes sweet food, but easily gets a sugar rush, etc. you laughed at the numerous spelling mistakes in it.

"so, what do you like to do?" you asked, sitting down on the floor in front of him.

megumi didn't like talking to babysitters. mostly because they never paid attention to him. he didn't like how they bossed him around. or how they got mad when he asked them if they could play with him. so he would stay silent. nobody ever asked him what he liked to do, so your question caught him by surprise.

he thought about it. what did he like to do?

"paint..."

"you paint?" you asked. you always liked the idea of kids drawing and painting.

megumi nodded. he was obsessed with a box of paints his father had bought him ages ago. the paints were long dried and over. but he still dipped his brush into them, watering them and painting with whatever colour came out of it.

you didn't have paints or brushes that he could use... but an idea struck you and you wondered whether he'd like it.

"wanna paint my room?" you suddenly said.

megumi's eyes lit up with curiosity. won't your walls get damaged? what if he spilled paint on the floor? or on you?

"the walls in my room are sad and empty. i have some paint cans that the painters forgot about when i was renovating. there are some colours still left. what do you say?"

megumi nodded. you got up and went into your room, searching for a shirt you give him as overalls. you pulled out the paint cans from under your bed. you took an old shirt of yours and brought it to him in the living room.

megumi had finished drinking his milk, so he thought he'd keep the cup back. hearing you call his name startled him and he dropped the cup, watching it shatter into pieces. he tensed up and felt his eyes water. you were going to scold him, punish him, maybe even hit him. he deserved it. he broke your cup.

"oh my, are you okay?" you rushed to his side, crouching and checking him for wounds.

"sorry... sorr-" megumi tried his best not to cry. he was expecting an earful at any moment now.

"why?" it was all you asked.

megumi looked at you in shock.

"cup..."

you chuckled sympathetically. "so? cups break all the time."

"i break cup..."

you stood up, unsure of how to convince him that he did nothing wrong.

"okay... you broke the cup." there it was. you were angry. megumi was going to get scolded.

instead, he watched you pick another cup from the shelf. you took the cup, and angling it far from megumi, you threw it.

"and i broke a cup too. guess we're both clumsy..." you shrugged and picked up the pieces, swiping the rest with a broom and tossing them in the garbage.

megumi didn't know what to say. had he really done nothing wrong? it was just a cup... yeah, just a cup.

"come, let's paint my room," you held out your hand to him. slowly, he grabbed it, walking behind you towards your room. your hands were soft and warm. and you didn't pull him or drag him. instead you were walking slower just for him. why were you so kind?

you brought him to your room and asked him to help you spread newspapers on the floor. then you handed him a shirt, helping him put it on since it was huge for him. he looked like a penguin.

"megumi... please, i'll give you more chocolate milk, but can i please take your picture? you're too cute," you asked, clutching your heart.

megumi blushed and nodded, looking away.

you clicked at least twenty pictures of him in your shirt, holding a thick paintbrush, standing on newspaper barefoot. you made a mental note to send these to toji.

"alright, pick your colours."

megumi carefully scanned each colour. then he looked at you. he didn't want to mess up this opportunity. it wasn't every day that he got to paint a wall instead of paper. he wanted to make sure you'd like it.

you seemed the type of person who would appear stern, but on the inside, you were really soft and caring. like a marshmallow. he wanted the room to suit you. being the observant kid, he looked around the room and learned that you liked necklaces, most of which looked like fancy saturns (iykyk). you also liked flowers as there were vases on your nightstand, windowsill and some were on your bookshelves. you also had a lot of books. what really caught megumi's attention was that you had three guitars hung on the wall. your room was totally your personality. he knew what he wanted to paint.

megumi pointed to a few colours and you handed him a few brushes of different sizes. he dipped one in red paint and began painting a few strokes on the wall (only after glancing back at you a hundred times in case you changed your mind). you sat on the bed, watching him focus. he was definitely smarter than kids his age. you admired him.

after a while, you left the room, telling him that you were going to make dinner. curry rice got an approval from him, so you occupied yourself in the kitchen, humming to yourself. you wondered what all he had painted in your absence. you didn't really care about the wall; you only hoped he'd feel safe enough to be a child.

you finished cooking and plated the food, setting on the kitchen island you used as a dining table. you pulled a chair and stacked some couch pillows on it, increasing the height of the seat. you called to megumi, but he didn't answer.

you stepped into the room to call him for dinner again, but no words came from your mouth as you stared at your wall, awestruck.

megumi had painted so many flowers and vines that ran across your wall in different colours. he'd even mixed a few colours and created new ones. he drew the saturn orbs matching your jewellery in the center of some flowers. though he could only paint a part of it and couldn't reach higher, the wall looked full of life.

"megumi..."

he looked at you, anxious to hear what you had to say.

you stood behind him, admiring the wall.

"you made my wall magical. this is so beautiful!"

megumi had a tiny smile on his face.

"you're an artist, gumi" you said, ruffling his hair, and he blushed at the nickname you gave him. nobody ever gave him a nickname apart from his father. people would often forget his name.

he felt his chest swell with pride and happiness. he did a good job.

"let's put fairy lights on the wall!" you chirped and he nodded.

you helped him out of his shirt, tossing it into the laundry basket. you sat him down on the high chair and you both sat down for dinner. megumi liked the food. but he truly loved how you let him be himself without bossing him around. it finally dawned on him that he had broken your cup, painted your wall, and was eating your food and you had absolutely no problem with it. he felt himself breathe freely.

after dinner, he helped you clean the room and stick fairy lights all across your room. you went overboard with it, but when you switched them on and lay on the bed watching them twinkle, it felt worth it.

"we did a good job, today." you gave him a high five.

megumi yawned and you took it as a sign to prep him for bed. toji forgot to give you his toothbrush, so you tore him a new one. you wouldn't dare let a child sleep in the living room, so you tucked him in your bed. you were so glad you bought that expensive comforter because seeing megumi snuggle into it turned your eyes into beating hearts.

upon his request, you tucked in his ominous dog plushie with him and bid him goodnight. megumi fell asleep easily, snoring softly. you made rounds to the room to check on him and felt your heart melt every time. he was definitely an active sleeper. his positions would get bizarre every time and you'd pull the comforter on him properly each time.

you finally slept on your couch around midnight.

toji didn't sleep a wink. the world's most boring job had him awake all night, opening gates for rich snobs who partied and returned to the semi-residential building at odd hours.

the only thing on his mind was megumi. he prayed that you weren't fucking someone with him in the house. he wondered if he'd eaten. he wondered if he was asleep right now. he hoped you gave him his demon dog to sleep with.

when dawn broke, he was out of there. he drove his dying truck straight to the parking and dashed out of the car. he decided to grab his and your mail, just so he'd have an extra excuse to knock on your door.

he didn't bother asking you for a key. he just yanked open the letterbox and it easily came into his hand. he grabbed whatever was in it.

"did you hear apartment 707? so loud.... that too in the morning"

"how could i not? but, im not surprised..."

toji heard two ladies gossip, waiting for the elevator. 707... his apartment was 706, so it had to be you. he was going to murder you.

he sped in and out of the elevator, rushing to your place. expecting to hear the sound of sex, he stopped in his tracks... you were not having sex? your door was conveniently ajar and toji spotted a few empty cans of paint outside.

he opened the door, peeking in, only to see... his adorable five year old son, jumping around and dancing with you to a christmas song, decorating a large tree in your living room. (christmas tree farm by the one and only... blondie)

if toji could explain how much he wanted to giggle at the sight, he would. but he only watched the two of you, leaning against the doorframe, hands folded, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

"where every wish comes true!!!" you sang, hanging the ornaments miscellaneously. megumi poked your leg and you picked him up, helping him tie a bell around a branch.

you swayed and danced to the beat with megumi on your shoulders, who laughed loudly.

toji felt his heart melt upon hearing his son laugh. he hadn't heard that sound in a long time.

he looked around and spotted a plate of half-eaten pancakes and glasses of milk. did you drink milk with him? he held back a laugh.

as you turned around, you spotted toji and nearly threw yourself in the tree.

"dad!" megumi chirped, happy to see his father. toji took it as an invitation to come inside. seeing megumi almost as tall as him, he chuckled and looked him in the eye.

"here's your ice cream, stinky," he said, holding a bag full of ice cream cups.

megumi giggled.

toji smiled widely and you sobbed at how cute the kid was. you placed him down and he ran to his father, clinging to his knee. you took the ice cream bag from toji and placed it on the kitchen counter taking the contents out.

[next song: under the tree by sam palladio]

you handed megumi a cup of chocolate ice cream and the uselessly small wooden spoon that came with it.

"which one do you want?" you asked toji who had yawned at least a dozen times by now.

"anything is fine."

you tossed him the pinkest strawberry ice cream cup. he rolled his eyes, but began eating it anyway. you sat next to him on the couch. megumi insisted on sitting under the tree, on the tree-skirt, looking up at the lights and the ornaments from below.

"oh! look!" you said, pulling your phone out to show toji pictures of little megumi in an oversized shirt holding a paintbrush.

"what's this?" toji asked. though his kid looked cute, he still didn't know what happened when he was away.

"yeah, he painted my wall," you replied.

"HE WHAT?" toji asked, surprised. megumi never misbehaved. but i guess he finally snapped.

"yeah! it's so beautiful, i can't stop staring at it," you began mumbling.

this kid ruined your walls and you're happy about it? he thought you'd scold him.

"come, i'll show you," you signalled him to follow you and toji did, worried about the mess his son had made.

he also did not want to see your room, given that he'd heard you have sex plenty of times for it to etch in his mind like a song that just doesn't fucking leave.

he was not expecting for your room to be so... pleasant and unsuspecting. you had a queen-sized bed with fluffy pillows, plants in the room, some equipment on the desk. hell, instead of sex, it smelled like coconut.

you showed him the art megumi had blessed your wall with.

"he's great at painting!"

toji's eyes widened at the intricate designs on the wall. had megumi really painted this? was he this good at it?

"it's... good..." toji didn't know what to say. he felt really sad that his son was capable of something so great and yet toji couldn't do more for him.

you smiled, somehow understanding what he was feeling. it was the same thing you felt about yourself when you realised your love for music.

toji asked you to send him the pictures and you complied. he looked around your room in silence, not knowing what to do. but he decided to address the former elephant in the room.

"can i ask you something?"

"sure," you said, looking down at your phone.

"i don't have the right to pry in your personal life, but... next time you have someone over, keep it down? i don't want megumi to hear... that..."

"huh?"

"you know... what you and your boyfriend do..."

"i don't have one?"

"then whoever you bring home to fuck... just please, keep the volume low," said toji impatiently.

"i didn't bring any... oh, you heard that!" you said as it dawned on you.

"yeah, whatever that is..." toji wanted to hide his face. it felt like giving a child 'the talk'. and you weren't that old too...

"toji..." you called, holding back your laugh. he wondered what was so funny.

"i'm not having sex in here. what you've been hearing..." you almost held it back... "was me recording for quinn."

"huh?"

you sighed as you explained, "it's an app for people who like listening to spicy stories... i'm one of their narrators... i try to pick times when people are busy or not here... but oh my god, i'm so sorry you had to hear that..." you said with a laugh, grabbing his arm apologetically.

toji digested every word you said.

"why on earth would you do that?"

"it pays really well, you know..." you shrugged.

now you had toji's attention. "you get paid for speaking dirty?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"and narrating, reading lines, moaning, whimpering, shouting... the works."

"that's an odd job..." he commented. it truly was. he had no idea things like these existed.

"i'm a singer by profession, so this is just a side hustle. my room is soundproof so i can't hear outside noises, but sadly..."

"you're not ashamed?"

"why would i be? it's great that people like it. you should try listening to some."

"please, no," toji held his palm out to her. he heard you chuckle. "aren't you worried that people might find out about you?"

"of course i don't use my real name."

toji shook his head in disbelief.

"i know you're ancient, but try it someday. who knows, you might end up liking it," you said, showing him the app on your phone.

toji stared at you with a blank face. he wasn't that behind the times, was he? he snuck a glance at your screen, his eyes falling on your username in a corner. embarrassed, he swatted your hand away and you chucked.

"anyway, thanks for looking after my kid." toji got up and left your room as you trotted behind him.

"anytime!"

toji left with megumi, after thanking you once more and making his kid to the same. megumi had definitely enjoyed he spent with you. he wished he could do it again.

a few days passed by and megumi started to become more interactive with you, waving at you, telling about his day when you rode the elevator together, giving you some small sketches he made after you gave him a sketchbook and some colour pencils.

toji still hadn't warmed up to you, but he wasn't as dismissive as he used to be. in fact, he had gotten slightly curious about you. you lived a quiet life, or so it seemed on the outside. but he knew what you did and how unbothered you were about it.

why would people pay to listen to strangers moaning? it seemed bizarre to him. he tried to ignore it.

he was stuck on another night shift, leaving megumi with you. he was glad that his son didn't mind you. and you'd proven to be a capable babysitter. yet, all he wanted was to be near his son. home. the night couldn't get over any sooner.

toji sat in the booth provided to him, watching the streets. nights when people came and went by were just as boring as when nobody showed up. he contemplated taking a nap, but the last thing he wanted was to be fired for slacking off. especially when the night shift paid him a bit more.

he turned side to side in the swivel chair, groaning in frustration. so far, he'd watched eight mma matches on his phone, cussing at how pathetic they were. nothing entertained him enough to keep him awake.

that thing embedded in his subconscious mind suddenly resurfaced, making him gulp in guilt. he could do it. it's not like she'll know... as if he was being watched, toji switched the light off in his booth and discreetly took his phone out, lowering the brightness and pulling out a tangled pair of earphones, and plugged them in. he downloaded that app, signing in with a random email he'd created ages ago.

[mention; compromised: victoria pedretti, on quinn]

he remembered her username and typed it in. not wanting to dwell too much on it, he clicked on the first 'story' he saw. he didn't read the description. he had no idea what he was to expect. thankfully, the audio started with some context. he instantly recognised your voice. based on what he understood in the first few minutes of the introductory chapter, it was a story about an agent watching over the witness she was supposed to protect. he realised that it was a woman x woman story. not that he minded. he just enjoyed listening to your voice. you surely had a singer's voice.

the more he listened, the more engrossed he was in the plot.

"i can stay on the line, sure..." you said, as your character stood below a hotel, at a distance, watching the woman you were on the phone with, from the window, keeping an eye out.

"you're not wearing anything underneath... i might not be the only person watching, you know," you chuckled. your laugh sounded better all over, probably due to the recording quality. toji paid attention to everything he heard.

"...tell me where you're touching...does it feel good?"

"i wanna see your other hand on your breast..."

"do you want me in that room?" your voice was laced with quick breaths...

"now i'm gonna hang up...no, not to touch myself... I don't care that you're close!"

toji sighed in exasperation, truly engrossed in the story.

"wait, shit, there is a man... fuck i think he's armed..."

toji had never clicked on 'next' that fast in his life. okay, he was hooked. when he first heard about this from you, he thought it was just audio-porn. he didn't expect a full on story with a plot, internal monologue, the background noises. it was as if it was happening around him.

the next chapter had you grunt and scream as you fought some attacker. how on earth did she record this shit? was she also fighting in the apartment? he smirked, realising what a double life she was leading.

"i saw that smirk, don't get any ideas..." you said coincidentally and toji had to look around him for a moment.

"you're very, very distracting..." your voice seemed closer whenever the background music got fainter. maybe it was the mic or some technical tweaking. but it really sounded like you were speaking in his ear.

your pants were now mixed with small laughs. it sounded blissful.

"don't ever be sorry for kissing me..." toji was surprisingly okay with hearing sounds of you kissing, probably another woman.

"oh, these lips... can i? touch them? fuck..." you moaned slightly... and then laughed. "did you just bite my thumb? you're so bad... i might have to punish you."

toji had to grasp his phone tightly as heard you make out, hearing your breaths mingled with the sounds of your lips moving against someone else's. you sounded so different, so confident.

"you like that, don't you? me on my knees... touching you, licking you, tasting you..."

fuck

toji knew you were saying this to a woman, but he couldn't help picturing himself in her place. your hums, whimpers, breaths, they were all elevating his senses. he felt his pants tighten.

"yes, fuck..."

"i love your neck..." you panted. toji raised his head, gulping.

"you're so hot... fuck... me..." your moans had started to get louder, breathier.

"what if i don't wanna hurry? what if... i wanna make you beg for it?" toji instinctively let his hand wander down his body, to his pants. he loosened his belt. he slid his pants and boxers down just enough for his dick to spring out, harder than he expected it to be. your constant moans, whimpers and dirty words became music to his ears as he stroked his cock slowly.

"tell me how good it feels..."

toji groaned, quickening his speed, his eyes closed, his mind visualising your face. he imagined you doing everything he heard you do on the phone. touching him, licking him, tasting him... he fisted his cock to the sounds of your sweet voice, shamelessly.

"so good..." he hissed, as if to answer you, gliding his fist up and down his thick veiny cock, its tip glistening proudly.

"come for me, yes! yes! yes! fuuuuck..." you moan loudly, dragging the last word, breathing shakily.

"god..." toji gave up any restraint he had and let his cock burst like a dam, spoiling his pants.

he was high. high on your voice, your moans, your words. he wished he could experience it for the first time again.

a shrieking honk from the gate snapped toji back into reality. he zipped back up in a hurry, shoving his half-hard cock in his pants. he tied a jacket around his waist to hide it and scurried out of the booth to open the gate.

toji came home early in the morning, feeling floaty. he couldn't forget last night's events. not when you were right there. next door. probably recording the next one. toji didn't know how he was to face you, but he was damn sure about hearing you again.

and hear you he did. for days. he was finding the plot interesting too. but he was addicted to your voice. how were you so confident? how did you manage to record the perfect moans. did you have help? did you get off just to get a good audio? all these questions plagued toji's mind. he really wanted to ask you about it.

but how was he to do it without sounding like a creep? or worse, a pervert? but then again, you did till him about it yourself.

so, when he had to collect megumi from your house after coming back, he came up with the simplest excuse.

"see you later, gumi!" you ruffled his hair, watching him run to his father, who told him to go inside and wait for him.

before you could shut the door, he shoved his foot inside. "hey, uh... i had a question."

"come in..." you moved aside.

you were hungry, but didn't have the time to buy groceries. so, instant ramen it was...

toji followed you to the kitchen, rehearsing the imminent conversation in his head.

"what's wrong?" you asked, looking at his tensed brow.

"i'm a little starved for cash. megumi's birthday is coming and i want to give that urchin something good this time."

"awww..."

"you uh..." was he really going to ask that? would she even listen? "you were talking about that..."

you on the other hand, knew exactly what he wanted to talk about. so many of your friends had tried to do that same. the fact that toji was considering doing that made the composer in you mildly excited.

"you want to earn cash on quinn, am i right?"

toji's head shot up, looking at you, slightly horrified and ready to get his ass kicked out the door.

"alright."

"wait, what?"

"i'll help you... sell your voice."

"are you serious?"

"do i look like i'm joking?"

"would i even... be able to... you know..."

you leaned on the kitchen island, looking at toji, who had sat down in a chair across from you.

"just do it..."

"you expect me to do it just like that?" he asked.

"what, like it's hard?" you snorted.

toji just looked at you blankly. "you mean, you do it just like that?"

"women are expert at faking it, you know?" you smirked.

toji scoffed in disbelief, rolling his eyes.

wickedly, you began panting, whimpering, opening your mouth as lewd moans spilled out of you. you gripped the edge of the kitchen island, and whined, "yes! toji! just like that!"

toji felt like he'd been shot in the head... both, his heads... he felt a bulge in his pants. hearing you moan and actually seeing you moan were two different things. the way your eyes shut tight, brow creased, mouth opened and chest heaved, toji couldn't take his eyes of you.

you saw his reaction through squinted eyes and stopped, reverting to your normal self, scratching the back of your head, completely unbothered.

"so yes, toji... just like that..." you said, without the moans this time.

toji gulped.

"so, do you wanna record a demo? i can send it to my agent. if she likes it, she'll ask you to record a proper script."

toji sighed... what was he getting into? he didn't actually imagine himself doing it. would it be embarrassing? no, fuck it. he could really use the extra cash.

"no one can know," he said sternly.

"you can use a pseudonym. you can literally put an emoji as your name."

"whatever. as long as nobody can trace it back to me."

"i guarantee you they won't. let's send an anonymous demo, 'kay?"

"fine. but, i don't know how to do this shit. it's too... fucking dumb."

you chuckled. "it is. dumb and fun. but doesn't it make you feel... like a king, knowing that the world gets off to your voice?"

toji scoffed and smirked. oh, how he wished she knew that he had been getting off to her voice nearly every damn night, palming his dick, picturing you saying all those dirty things to him.

he followed you to your bedroom where you had set up your mic, your laptop, you desk, under a labyrinth of wires and cables. he was made to sit in the chair facing the mic. the fuck am i doing...

you tapped on your laptop, leaning forward on the desk. toji's hammering anxiety took a break when he realised how close you were. your tits were practically in his face. he'd only ever seen you in baggy clothing, so this was a pleasant surprise. they were big. but they'd easily fit in his hands. he was a little disgusted by the fact that he was severely attracted to you.

"okay... what would you like to say?"

"i don't know..."

"what are your go-to swear words?"

"uh... fuck?"

"and?"

"i don't swear because of my kid... so, i don't know... this is difficult, y/n..."

"what do you have to fear?"

she was right. what was he to lose? to fear? nothing. he knew how hot was. he knew ladies threw themselves at him. he knew his sex appeal was impeccable. so then why was this so difficult?

oh, he knew why. you. it was because of you. the way he'd listened to your moans all week, stealing glances at you whenever he saw you, and now that he was in your bedroom with you...

fuck that! this bitch just faked an orgasm in front of me without a problem. i can at least spit out a few sentences.

"how do you start?"

"well, i usually have a script and there's good enough build up."

"so, give me one of your scripts."

"really? you wanna say, 'touch my pussy'?"

"fuck no. ugh, this is frustrating," he groaned loudly, leaning back and running his hands through his hair.

"hey, wait, that's good!"

"huh?"

"say it again."

"this... is frustrating?"

"tojiiiii," you rolled your eyes and smacked his arm. "say it like you did before. with the groan and all."

"i can't just do it on command."

"do you want me to leave you here alone with a gravure magazine then?"

toji's narrowed his eyes at her. "you read those?"

"no, but, you get the point."

toji sighed. you thought of another way to get him riled up. if a sexy audio wasn't gonna happen, then an angry one it was... there were plenty of angsty stories in demand. you clicked on record without him knowing.

"stop acting like a virgin, toji," you said and he shot you a glare. you let your mouth run a marathon, "no, for real, you're a grown ass man with a nice, deep voice. you look like you'd be pissed off if someone so much as looks at you wrong. or worse, if someone tries to mess with your son-"

"watch your mouth," toji growled, grabbing your jaw with his fingers, pressing it tightly.

"or what?"

"or you regret ever letting me in this house. that kid fucking loves you. you keep him out of this. do not... ever use him... to use me," he snarled.

you pressed the spacebar to stop recording. toji pulled his hand back, putting two and two together.

"that... was something."

"i mean it."

"sorry... but damn, angry toji... is sexy..." you commented.

"yeah? you like that?" toji said with a smirk. you squealed, regretting not recording that.

"SAY THAT AGAIN." you began recording again.

toji let out a deep chuckle. "you want me to say that again, pretty girl?" oh, he was starting to get into it.

you nodded.

"beg for it..." toji whispered, slightly closer to the mic. he watched you hold back another squeal.

"use your words, baby."

you were almost jumping up and down at how good he sounded. you really wanted to use his voice. you figured your agent would ignore yours and focus on his.

you exhaled, "please, please say it again!"

"hmm..." toji's baritone voice reverberated in the mic. "that doesn't sound so convincing, princess..."

you banged the air above the desk, pursing your lips and grinned.

"please please please! i'll do anything!"

oh, toji was starting to see the fun in it. "anything, you say..."

"yes! whatever you say!" you too were blending well with him.

"get on your knees, then baby..." he said brusquely.

your jaw dropped, morphing into a wide smile as you silently cheered him. toji found your reactions entertaining. true, you'd been doing this longer than him, so you were probably used to hearing all that. you were genuinely enjoying him.

you gave him a thumbs up and he made his closing statement, making sure to murmur, "good girl..."

you stopped recording and grabbed toji by his shoulders, shaking him. "AAARRRRGGGH. you are a natural!!!!!"

toji smirked. that was oddly easy to do. mostly because you helped him into it.

"well, i'm not one to brag..."

"no, please brag."

"heh. do you think your agent will like it?"

"she will eat it. she will want to become it."

"how much do you make exactly?" he asked.

"i had to do a lot of small freebies until i got my big break. i made [good amount] per episode. i've done three stories, each with twelve chapters. im working on a fourth one... so it's incomplete."

that must have been the one toji had listened to the first time. he did click the first thing he saw. he'd been replaying the first three episodes over and over, coming undone to them. but now that you'd said there were more...

"that's actually very..."

"rich, right? i was surprised too."

"so, you're gonna send it to your agent now?"

"yep. she'll like it. under what name do you want it?"

toji thought about it. he couldn't have this traced back to him. not with megumi's life at risk. it had to be something entirely random. yet meaningful...

"how about... 707?"

you grinned. that was a smart pseudonym. "done."

"well... tell me how it goes. and once again... not a word about this in public. what happens in this room, stays in this room," he warned you.

"WAIT SAY THAT AGAIN!"

toji chuckled as he stood up to leave and rejoin his son. before he did, he inched closer to you and whispered in your ear, "beg for it, babygirl."

you groaned and flapped your hands, fanning yourself. "you're so good at this!"

you'd sent that clip to your agent and got a response from her a few days later. to say the least, you were surprised by her request.

so, you stood at toji's door, phone in hand. he opened it.

"'sup?"

"it's my agent."

toji shut the door behind him, not wanting megumi to hear anything.

"what'd she say?"

you simply held out your phone and the text she sent you.

'WHO IS THAT?' 'GIRL LOCK THAT MAN IN THE BASEMENT' 'he's got the job if he wants it. i just got a killer script! the only condition is'

toji raised an eyebrow at the last message.

'you both have to do it together'

#toji fushiguro #toji #fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x y/n #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x y/n #smut #megumi #Quinn #spicy #neighbours #asmr

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kandyshoppe · 5 months

Text

The Dorms Bra Shopping pt 2

SavannaClaw

Heartslaybul SavannaClaw (you are here) Octavinelle Scarabia Pomfoire Ignihyde Daisomnia

Leona Kingscholar

In the SunSet Savannah, women are viewed as the more dominant of the sexes, and most men don’t EVER get invited to shop with them. Leona views this as a VERY big step in the relationship, almost like moving in together! It’s very important to him to be respectful, so he almost says no! He doesn’t know how to act while shopping for intimates!

Calls his sister in law, almost hyperventilating, a mix of Riddle and Deuce to be honest. He’s writing on his hand the notes his sister in law gives him. Compliment something, offer to pay but don’t push, ect. Falena is jealous that Leona stole his wife for basically an entire night as they both talked for hours on proper etiquette, but quickly calmed down once he learned what was happening!

Leona sadly doesn’t follow one big rule though, he’s paying, he’s a gosh darn prince! He’s buying you the best of the best! Leona I feel enjoys being a provider in a sense. He gets a small ego boost knowing you’re using something he payed for! Every time he smells a perfume he got you, sees the strap of a bra he paid for, sees you bite into a sandwich he chose, his ears flick happily!

After he’s dragged you to a MUCH BETTER store, probably at a mall with private parking, he’s watching as some store associate helps you. Either with sizing, what you’re looking for ect. If you look at him like a deer in the headlights cause you’re overwhelmed, he steps in and says you’re just looking around.

Leona likes the animal patterns, the tacky ones specifically! You end up looking to the store associate for help in designs cause Leona dresses like a gay uncle or a rich golf fan dad when given the chance! Leona gets some fancy silk briefs with the UGLIEST zebra pattern! He refuses to let you see how much everything was, cause he knows you’ll feel bad. But trust me, you don’t want to see the amount of zeros on that bill!

Ruggie Bucchi

Another respectful boy, but I think he used to go shopping with his granny, so he’s not as clueless as Leona. That being said, Ruggie only truly knows how to find the best bang for your buck, he’s a haggler at heart! If you want a nice bra for a fair price, bring Ruggie! But Ruggie doesn’t know much about bras, so while he is helpful, I suggest giving him a run down on bras.

He’s now terrified of you getting stabbed with a wire! He’s checking durability like those new dads shaking those cribs as if their infants are gonna be MMA fighting in them! When he finds one he thinks is safe, he nearly faints at the price! He didn’t even look for a cute one! HOW IS IT SO EXPENSIVE!?! He wants to call his granny and apologize for her having to pay this much for a BRA!

You don’t end up buying a bra, but you both end up buying fabric, some bamboo strips, and Ruggie sews you some bras! You may be embarrassed at him having to measure you, and trying it on in front of him (he totally lets you wear a tank top or tighter shirt if that makes you more comfortable and for my Muslim chest havers, he has his granny help out)

But by golly if the bra he made wasn’t SO comfortable! And cute! He totally would splurge and get some cute designs for you!!! He got lace if you want it, he can embroider some stuff if you want! He is a believer in functionality over fashion, but totally wants to make you happy too so he can do some extra work! Again, Ruggie isn’t into fashion so he honestly doesn’t have a preference. If you’re happy, he’s happy!

Ruggie is probably one of the best guys to ask for help, cause he realizes he can make something of much higher quality for cheaper, and honestly, he may make a business that would put Azul to shame with how well he can make clothes! (Also he totally secretly embroidered a heart into the band, cause he loves you)

Jack Howl

You have to ask him at the right time, specifically when he’s tired. Either when he’s just woken up, is heading to bed, or after a tough workout. Otherwise he flat out refuses stating “intimantes” are to be seen only in intimate settings, not a store. But if you catch him, he doesn’t have the heart to take it back.

He’s SUPER awkward though! Standing stiffly off to the side, his jaw is clenched so hard he might crack a tooth! He’s staring at his feet, only giving grunts as answers, and looks like he wants to be literally anywhere else! But he is a dutiful man, and is holding your bags, and following you around like the puppy he is

He does end up buying a new compression shirt and socks, and MAYBE a jockstrap if you can convince him. He likes the tighter more sporty looks on you and him. If he HAD to choose a style, a cool sports bra and bikini bottoms are his go tos. Usually in black, maybe with your favorite colour as an accent if he can find them.

After the date he does agree to a small cafe lunch where he starts to relax a bit more, and realizes it’s silly to be this terrified of SHOPPING! He’s very respectful but will poke fun at the more just for show bras and panties, like…they don’t cover anything! Don’t let him learn about pasties cause he won’t be able to stop laughing for awhile!

You owe him a date now! He went shopping with you, so now you have to go shopping with him! And eye for an eye! You go buy some sporting goods, or cactus stuff. (Also, if you find some underwear with cactuses on them he may or may not turn into Jade and start teaching you about the different types)

#twisted wonderland #leona kingsholar x reader #twst leona #leona kingscholar #twst ruggie #ruggie bucchi #ruggie bucci x reader #twst jack #jack howl #Jack howl x reader #x fem reader #x gn reader

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misssmina · 2 months

Text

Characterizing Characters

Bakugou Katsuki.

I’ll be using the source material to create a simple list of traits he has already, then based on those traits, things we can infer about him based on those behaviors.

SourceMaterial!Bakugou is a hothead, we know this. However, at UA, his anger is almost never unreasonable. He is regularly the butt of his classmates jokes and teasing, which makes him argumentative. Outside of that he is just a very competitive teen with a grumpy disposition. He is pre-irritated.

SourceMaterial!Bakugou is rarely malicious in his words. Most things he says seemingly comes from a place of indifference. (Calling people extras, taking a long time to learn names and quirks, etc.)

SM!Bakugou is a goody two-shoes, despite his mouth. He sleeps early, studies hard, has been seen yelling at his classmates about making sure to eating well.

SM!Bakugou is socially awkward. He doesn’t just struggle with being nice, he struggles with being appropriate in general.

SM!Bakugou has great deductive reasoning skills. It helps in battle as well as him learning about interpersonal relationships.

SM!Bakugou is half decent with kids, he makes a point of analyzing and understanding their behavior to relate to them.

SM!Bakugou is a tough love kind of guy, but he actively acknowledges his classmates strengths.

SM!Bakugou has mission anxiety from both times he was held hostage.

SM!Bakugo regularly pushes his physical limits, regardless of injury or wellbeing.

Now we can make some inferences based on the information we have already.

ProHero!Bakugou found better outlets for his anger. MMA, quirk ranges, general exercise, etc.

ProHero!Bakugou still hates the press, but has learned how to conduct himself professionally. His interviews give the same cold feel as Aizawa’s.

ProHero!Bakugou would hold youth self-defense classes featuring different heroes, to prevent incidents like the sludge villain from happening again.

ProHero!Bakugou would take on many mentees and sidekicks. Feeling he’d be the best person to whip them into heroes.

ProHero!Bakugou would not give lots of verbal praise to his mentees and sidekicks. He’d just give them more responsibilities as the are able to handle them.

ProHero!Bakugou would have similar scaring to ProHero!Sero. Scars from injury and muscle damage would be most prominent on his shoulders, biceps, and forearms.

ProHero!Bakugou would work very closely with ProHero!Kirishima, ProHero!Jirou, and ProHero!Uraraka. Relying on their skills in combat, reconnaissance, and rescue, respectively.

Now, some personal headcannons I have. 💥

Bakugou rolls his eyes, A LOT. Mainly to keep himself from saying something out of pocket.

He cracks his wrists a lot, and his fingers are always sore.

He is a momma’s boy, but he’s an easier child for his father.

Bakugou is a polyglot.

Bakugou wouldn’t date another hero, but not a regular civilian either. Maybe someone in the medical field?

Bakugou has cuteness aggression with animals and his friends think it’s hilarious.

He takes Yaoyorozu with him to events because, “She’s the only one with any sense around here.”

Bakugou has gotten in trouble for modifying and tinkering with his gauntlets without approval.

Let me know who I should do next. I may do a secondary post the further I get into rewatching the show.

#bakugou x reader #bakusqaud #katsuki bakugou #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #bakugou headcanons #mha headcanons #mha fanfiction #mha x reader #mha bakugo katsuki #bnha #bnha bakugo katsuki #misssmina #mha #bnha fanfiction #bnha fluff #characterizing characters

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aasouthteranoswife · 4 months

Text

Cartel Princess

Summary: At night, South runs the streets of Brazil, and during the day, he's a famous MMA fighter who loves his woman but not the brattness that comes with it.

A/N: South is tatted up in this fic, and the reader is small. Dividers by: @benkeibear

Networks: @themovingcastlez @enchantedforest-network

18 + MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Warning(s): mentions of drugs, brat taming, daddy kink, blow job,breeding, cum, cursing, no aftercare, p and v penetration, mentions of corruption, established relationship, tattoos, rough sex.

The past:

During the day, South is a famous MMA fighter, and by night, he's on the streets of Brazil running his well-known cartel "Rio Rocinha."

How you ended up at an MMA fight was your boss had an extra ticket and asked if you wanted to go. Your boss had the likes for you, but you didn't. You just went for the free tickets and food. He was much older than you and wasn't your type.

When you saw the current champion walk into the octagon trying to keep his title. How he moved in the cage, he never missed a punch or kick had you hot between your legs, your eyes stayed locked onto the fight.

He was tattooed from his neck to his hands, down to his ankles, even his large back tattoo got you heated is what set you off was the muscles and tallest. You need him.

--------------------

You stood out when South saw you in the crowd, whne he was taking a break feom round one those big beautiful [ insert your color] eyes and long beautiful [color] hair, wearing a skimpy little dress that showed too much. Sitting in the front row in front of the cage he was fighting in.

At the end of his winning match, he came up to you asking your name, where you're from, and if he could have your number. You gave him your number and a little about yourself. All while your jealous boss watched. All you knew about him was his height, age, and that he was still the heavy weight champion.

After you two ended your conversation, your boss walked you to his sports car and took you home for the night as so you thought.

"Y/N L/N I'm gonna have to fire you," your boss says.

"Wait, what, why?" You say anxiously.

"Unless you sleep with me. You can keep your job, and I'll even promote you," he says with a shit eating grin.

"Ew no, I'm not going to that. Let me out now," you screamed while trying to open the car door, but the child locks were on.

"Fine, your fire collect your stuff tomorrow morning from your desk," he says angrily as he stops the car in the middle of the road and unlocks the door.

You hurry out of the car, slamming the car door shut as he sped off in his sports car, leaving you on the side of the road.

You started to cry. When your phone vibrated in your purse, you checked to see who texted you, and it was South. As you walked to the nearest bus stop, you called South, explaining everything that happened.

Fifteen minutes later,

He picked you up and took you home that night. South ended up staying the night as you two talked all night, getting to know each other, and the rest was history

----------------------

You dated for a year, and he popped the question that's when South convinced you to move to Brazil, leaving your New York home. You thought taking a risk would be fine.

The thing that you didn't know about him was running a cartel business until you moved to Brazil. You were pissed that he didn't tell you, you two fought for hours until South shut you up by fucking you stupid and all was forgive. He even gifted you a new car and house to start your future with him in Brazil.

The present:

"Minami," you shout from your balcony, looking over your living room, placing your hands on the rail.

Wearing nothing but a yellow lacy thong and a tight white t-shirt that showed your round nipples. As you looked down at your husband, counting his drug money from the previous night, shirtless in grey sweatpants with his signature gold chain around his neck and tattoos on full display, with his right-hand man named Blade and another guy with tattoos all over his face.

South rolled his eyes and stopped what he was doing to look up at what you wanted so badly to have to shout his birth name.

"Put some fucking clothes on," he shouts pointing his finger at you from above. Slamming his money down on the glass coffee table in your living room as he stood up from the soft couch you picked out. He didn't even say, "What's up, babe?" He just shouted at you.

"No, this is my house too South. I'll wear whatever the fuck I want." You say taking your hands off the rail crossing your arms across your chest. As the tattooed face guy said, "Damn" under his breath.

South clinches his fist with rage as a vein in his neck bulges out, "is the so," he says angrily. He releases his balled up fist, cracking his neck while massaging it in the process.

Without any more words, South started walking with long strides heading up the stairs to the balcony you were standing at. He was halfway up the stairs when you registered that he was coming after you.

"Oh shit," is all you said before running to your master bedroom and slamming the door shut.

"Shit, she got it coming for her," Blade says to the tattooed face guy while continuing to count profit.

But not even a minute after the door flies open and slams shut again. South was on your ass. You giggled, running and jumping on your king-size bed, trying to make it to the other side of the bed. But South catches you by your ankle with one of his tattooed hands. Making you fall onto the bed as South pulls you closer to him as you were on your stomach.

South grabs your arm, forcing you to face him. "What did I fucking tell you about talking to me like that in front of my men? Hmm," he says angrily.

"It was a joke, South" you say, waving it off.

South crouches to your level as your only 154cm compared to his 210cm. With his nostrils flaring, he inhales and exhales intertwining his large hands together. As you played with the hem of your panties.

"Open your fucking mouth," he says getting up and pushing his sweatpants down to his muscular tattooed thighs and grabbing your bun in the top of your head.

"What?," you say, playing stupid, but there was no time for before he forced his nine inch cock down your throat making you gag.

You held onto his thighs, digging your manicured nails into his inked skin while kicking your feet on the bed as black mascara tears run down your cheeks.

"Breath through your nose, I'm not letting up," South says, giving your ass harsh slaps, making your skin swell red.

Drool dripped down your chin as South continues to thrust deep into your throat as you looked up at him. He lets go of your hair and pulls out of your throat. You try to catch your breath as South barks an order, "get up." You did as you were told getting on your knees and sitting down.

South grabs the bottom of your white t-shirt and pulls it up and off, throwing it across the room. You grab onto his sweatpants to pull them down more, but his large inked hand wrapping it around your neck, pushing you on your back and forcing your legs open to see the wet patch between your legs.

"Hold your legs open," was all husband said before grabbing you thoug and ripping it off in one go. You start to rub your sensitive clit but South pulls your hand away roughly.

"Good Girls get prepped, bad girls don't," he says, pushing his entire length inside of your heat. Making bit your lip and rolling your eyes back.

"This is what you wanted, huh?" he says, giving your hard nipples a pinch as he starts to thrust in and out of you. All you did was shake your head, yes. Taking the pleasure your husband is giving to you.

"Why didn't you just say so," he says, caging you in between his tattooed arms as you grabbed onto his back as he hit your favorite spot. You loved so much, making you moan loudly.

"There she is, my little bratty princess," he says into your ear and nibbling it as he continues to thrust in and out of you.

"Please," you say.

"Please what" South says

"I wanna cum, please let me cum daddy," moaing out your words.

"My pretty little baby wants to cum," he says moving one of his arms, rubbing circles on your clit making your toes curl, shaking your head as you dug your nails into his back making your legs spread wider for him.

"Go on," he says thrusting faster and deeper making you scream amd shake as you cummed on your husband's cock. As he spilled his seed inside your womb. Grabbing both of your legs to keep them open as he slowly pulls out of you watching the cum drip out of your hole.

"Remember, princess, you always get what you want, just ask," South states, pulling his sweatpants back up and walking out of the room.

South goes back to the living room like nothing happened, counting his money over again after you interrupted his count.

While you laid in bed trying to come down from your high as your husband's cum still leaked out of you and onto the clean bed spread wanting to take a shower.

"What happened up there, boss. You got a nasty cut there?" Blade asks with a smirk. As South looks at the nail marks, you made in his back, bleeding slightly.

"Its part of the territory now shut the fuck up and figure when our next shipment is coming in." He says laying back on the couch, lighting a joint.

Taglist 🏷

@bubble4u @suyacho @ushitoshiii @goshuke @midiirl @bigmood-myman @dangerlanger25 @bobateasilverpearl @officialholyagua @missgremory @winterv-black @nanamis-wifey-reye @bontensucker

🌧If you want to be added DM or fill out my taglist

#south terano #terano minami #tokyo revengers #terano south #terano south x reader #terano south smut #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader

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redtsundere-writes · 1 month

Text

Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen

mma fighter!sukuna ryomen x femalecoach!reader

Part 8. Fight For Me.

Beginning. ← Previous | Next →

Spynosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Sukuna being Sukuna. Female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Warnings: Cursed words. Unethical violence. Sexual harassment. I only read it once, lmao Word count: 2927 words. A/N: Another Saturday, another chapter. I picked up studying Japanese again, so far so good. Any advice is welcome :) Hope you guys like today's chapter. :) Btw I made a PLAYLIST

That was the most uncomfortable morning of my life. I can’t get the idea that I fell asleep in Sukuna's bed like it was nothing out of my head. All I could do was to get dressed quickly to get back to my house before the morning training started. Luckily, I didn't see Sukuna on my way out, maybe he slept in the guest room… or so I thought. His penthouse was huge, there must have been an extra room for sure. Upon arriving at the gym, Sukuna just scolded me for being late as if nothing happened last night, so I acted accordingly.

Cheers and praises flooded the arena as soon as Sukuna's anthem began booming over the speakers. Even though it was the last fight of the night, this was just starting. The sound mitigated with every step we took upon the intimidating octagon where Naoya was waiting for us after making his grand entrance. I was so nervous I felt like I was going to throw up at any moment, but I had to stay strong. This was not the time to act like a coward.

The referee checked Sukuna's gloves and body for sandbags or anything out of place. During the inspection, Sukuna gave me a serious glare. He looked so calm for someone who was about to be locked in a cage to fight another beast his size. I had interrupted Naoya's lucky ritual and helped him perform his luck ritual successfully. He was sure he was going to win, but he couldn't let his guard down.

Sukuna stepped onto the big stage and jogged around the perimeter so that everyone could admire his greatness. Naoya instead of watching him to analyze his opponent, was focused on me. His eyes were looking at me through the black fence, conveying a message I did not want to decipher. Sukuna had to beat him if I didn't want him to escape from the cage and lock me in his clutches. I gulped hard as soon as the referee approached them to give them the basic rules. It was time. I closed my eyes to pray to all the deities of the constellations, crossed my fingers and prayed that Sukuna's sign was lucky today.

The bell rang and the first round began. People shouted in anticipation as the lion engaged the cheetah in a dangerous dance for dominance. As we had planned, Sukuna was taking his time with him. He was waiting for our common enemy to feel comfortable enough to approach him. Naoya took the bait as he slammed in on him with a pair of jabs, he was going right at his jaw to end the fight. “He looks different,” I thought as I watched him attack Sukuna without hesitation. He was desperate to win as fast as possible, even if that meant throwing away all his energy in the first round.

Everything was being decided by boxing in the first two rounds, so far, we were going according to plan. Sukuna was like a fish in water, dodging every punch he landed and landing a couple of jabs that connected perfectly with his body, while Naoya struggled to take him down. There was a minute left in the third round when Naoya knocked Sukuna down with a spinning kick. The cheetah turned into a dangerous boa that attached itself to his body mercilessly. Its legs wrapped around his waist to put him in a neck lock. Sukuna tried to pull away from the cheetah's grip with hopeless punches and kicks, but Naoya wasn't about to let it go so easily.

“Hold on, Sukuna!” I yelled in desperation amidst the howls of the fans.

I looked at the clock hoping that the seconds would pass quickly, but it felt like an eternity. Sukuna was pushing away with difficulty the arm that chained his neck to keep from fainting. My eyes were on the verge of tears, the champion could not lose, not today.

The bell rang, and the fighters walked away. I sighed in relief and rushed up to the octagon with Gojo and Yuuji to assist him in the break. Gojo put ice on his shoulder and Yuuji gave him water.

“Change of plans. We must go to the floor,” I said.

“What?” Sukuna asked me, taking off his mouth guard.

“Naoya is desperate. He wants to win at any cost, it seems that this time he doesn't want to leave it to the judges. This is your chance to use his attacks against him,” I explained, but Sukuna didn't seem to be convinced.

“I agree. He is fighting differently from before. Use your legs, they are longer than his,” Gojo intervened. With that, Sukuna nodded before the next round was announced by a beautiful ring girl.

Naoya's eyes were on me as he prepared for the next round. I returned her gaze in kind, I wasn't going to let him bully me just because. The bell announced the fourth round and my eyes returned to Sukuna. After a back and forth of punches and low kicks, Naoya went straight at him. Naoya knocked him down, pushing him by the shoulders. Sukuna fell backwards with a loud thud. This time, time wasn't going to stop him. I had seen this attack before.

“Push him with your legs!” I yelled so he could hear me as I ran around the perimeter of the octagon to get a better angle on the attack.

Sukuna understood what I meant. With the inertia of Naoya's attack, Sukuna pushed him by the abdomen. I thought he would push him away, instead, he grabbed him by the arms and lifted him up to have him at his mercy for a couple of seconds in the air. I could see Naoya's eyes as he realized he had screwed up. Sukuna threw him to turn him like a helicopter propeller to put his leg between his arms and whip him against the floor. He caged him between his legs and kept pulling him by his limb to keep Naoya in a headlock.

“Sukuna…” I mumbled in shock.

Naoya was hitting him by the legs while trying to free his trapped arm. The referee was asking Naoya to get out of it quickly, or he was going to call the fight over. Time paused again as the scene unfolded before me. A king demonstrating his power to a rebellious knight. I no longer heard the people, nor my team, nor my thoughts. It was just my eyes taking in the facts, tasting those uncertain moments.

Naoya was completely trapped, so the referee announced the end of the fight. I caught my breath and came back to my senses at the decision. Sukuna broke away from Naoya and slowly stood up to regain his posture. He looked at me through the fence and gave me a slight smirk. “Mothafucker did it,” I thought before a tear of happiness slipped down my cheek. We had won, I was free and the champion proved himself the best once again.

I met up with the team to go up to the octagon to celebrate the victory. I moved through the crowd to give him a sweaty bear hug. I wanted to congratulate him, and thank him for giving his best as always, but I was so happy the words wouldn't come out of my mouth. I could only cry of joy on his shoulder.

“Stop crying like a bitch,” he whispered between chiding teeth as he wiped my face with the towel around his neck.

“Can’t I be happy?!” I scolded him between sniffles.

“You're humiliating me. I can't have a crybaby of a trainer,” he complained.

“I'm not...!”

My eyes popped open as soon as Sukuna connected his lips with mine in a sweet kiss in front of everyone. My cheeks turned the color of his hair and my heart started beating like crazy from shock. It was not a passionate kiss as he usually kisses me in the secrecy of his ritual, it was a tender touch in the middle of an octagon full of fighters and cameras watching us. Our lips didn't last more than 5 seconds connected, but it felt like it lasted an eternity.

The sharp sound of something metallic woke me up from the moment. Naoya had hit Sukuna in the head with his metal water bottle before anyone could stop him. The arena gasped in shock at the unsportsmanlike attitude. Team Zenin pulled him back before he could land another misplaced blow. Yuuji, Gojo and Nanami lashed out at him and his coach for not being able to control their athlete.

“How dare you kiss what's mine?! Let’s get back together, y/n!” Naoya screamed in a tantrum as he tried to break free from the grip of his teammates.

“Are you okay?” I asked Sukuna worriedly as I put some ice on his bump.

“Yes, I feel better now,” he said with a proud smile as he watched Naoya in emotional agony.

“Naoya Zenin will appear before the official UFC committee for lack of discipline and unsportsmanlike attitude tomorrow afternoon for his actions after tonight's fight, but there are already rumors that he will be suspended for more than 5 years from all events,” The commentator announced.

Team Black howled with joy at the news. My heart had finally calmed down after drinking a nice beer and chatting for a while with Yuuji and Megumi at the same bar we came last time. My mind was finally resting at peace after Sukuna beat up Naoya and explained to Nanami that the kiss had only been to get Naoya off her nerves. “Relax, that kiss didn't mean anything, it was just part of the strategy,” I thought as I remembered how intense that unexpected contact felt.

“Aren't you supposed to be with the Zenins? Aren't they family?” I asked Megumi curiously to distract my mind from the strong palpitations of my passionate heart.

“More or less. My father was kicked out of the dojo as soon as he challenged my uncle Naobito and beat him. The family could not bear such a breach of family honor,” Megumi explained, not caring at all about the incident. “I never thought that Sukuna could lift Naoya with his body, it was really incredible. Did you teach him that move?” He asked me before taking a sip of her beer.

I looked briefly at Sukuna who was chatting pleasantly with Nanami on the other side of the table. Quickly, he noticed that I was watching him. I turned around in time so that he wouldn't think I had been watching him for a long time and that we had only connected casual glances. “Why am I thinking like a lovesick teenager?”, I scolded myself.

“I didn't know he could do that either,” I agreed, to which Megumi looked at me strangely.

After a stressful day and a couple of drinks to counteract the body ailment. I said goodbye to everyone and set out to head home under the midnight stars. I smiled to myself as I replayed in my mind how Sukuna had cornered Naoya against the canvas. The sound of his bare back impacting hard played in my mind on loop. It had been a lousy day, but an incredible night I would never forget.

“Where are you going?” someone asked behind me. I could recognize Sukuna's voice anywhere in the world.

“Home, to rest,” I answered as I faced him fully. Why had he followed me? Whatever the reason, we were alone on the sidewalk, it was the right time to tell him how I felt. “You did amazing tonight, thank you very much.”

“I just did my job, I didn't do it for you,” he said with that serious tone I knew so well by now, he purposely made it sound like he was annoyed.

“I know you didn't do it for me, but I still want you to know that I owe you one,” I joked.

He didn't hesitate to approach me, I thought he would give me a hug or another kiss, so I just froze in place. Instead, he just handed me a silver key with a Team Black keychain on it. I inspected it carefully as I twirled it between my fingers.

“You are going to live with me, starting tonight,” he announced as if it was nothing.

“What?! Why?!” I was really confused.

“Naoya will probably be suspended from the UFC tomorrow and have to pay a stupidly expensive fine. Guess who he's going to blame for that,” I explained.

“You?” I really didn't want to blame myself right now.

“Do you really think he'd try to come near me after I beat him up on the ring? And I was fighting under the rules,” Sukuna smiled proud of himself for his performance in the fight.

“Naoya promised me that...".

“Naoya promised you that he would love you forever and not hurt you and look where you are. Just because you're innocent doesn't mean you're stupid,” Sukuna interrupted me and then turned his back to me. “You better be home by the time I get back,” he demanded before going back to the bar.

“Hey! Sukuna! What about my stuff?!” I shouted for him to stop, but he ignored me and walked into the bar without saying anything else.

I stood still on the sidewalk while my fingers caressed the keychain. How could someone be so nice and scary at the same time? It was obvious that Sukuna wanted me to be safe, but the way he did it felt like he was doing me a favor instead of actually wanting to help me. “He wants to protect me,” I thought as I realized what he was doing. My heart skipped a beat even though he was no longer in my presence and my cheeks dyed pink just thinking about him.

“Sukuna sure is a strange man…” I thought out loud as I went on my way to the penthouse.

Even though I had entered his home before, I couldn't help but be surprised as I walked down the huge carpeted hallway. I arrived in the immense living room that shared the professional kitchen, the 12-person wooden dining room and the contemporary living room surrounded by huge windows that allowed me to see the entire city glowing in the dark night. What it's like to have all the money in the world.

“I think I'll sleep in the guest room,” I said aloud to test the echo of my new home. “First I must find the guest room,” I planned as I looked at the maze I would be living in.

I avoided the entrance doors because I knew that one of them was Sukuna's room, so I had to go up to the second floor. When I got to the top, I could see through the large windows the indoor pool on the first floor, the bar with karaoke and the small zen garden that divided the rooms. “What songs will he like to sing,” I wondered curiously as I continued my search for my room. A little smile escaped my lips as I imagined Sukuna singing Single Ladies by Beyoncé.

I had finally found the guest room. It had a king-size bed with beige sheets, a small couch to watch TV, its own bathroom and a large empty closet. I dropped my backpack on the small white couch and headed for bed. Before I could throw myself out of exhaustion, I noticed a Victoria's Secret bag at the foot of the bed. My eyes widened as I realized the real reason Sukuna wanted me to come to his house.

“That fucker is planning to fuck me tonight!” I exclaimed, offended.

I couldn't believe it, I was really stupid for thinking that Sukuna wanted to protect me. I had escaped from the Zenin just to face a Ryomen. I am so naive for thinking he was different, but he was just another disgusting man who can't see women as equals. I really wanted him to be different. He only fucked me twice, and he already assumes he can do it whenever he wants. I wasn't going to let him.

I took the things out of the bag to throw it in the trash, but stopped when I saw that it wasn't lingerie, it was a full set of satin pajamas. White pajamas with pink stripes in my size. I covered my face with it from embarrassment. I had misjudged Sukuna, he sure bought me pajamas after I fell asleep naked in his bed the night before. I took off my clothes to put on the soft and comfortable pajamas, they fit me like a glove. I smiled like a fool when I saw myself in the mirror.

“How cute…" I thought out loud before throwing myself on the bed comfortably.

Oh.

Quickly, I realized what I had said and stood still, staring at the white glitter ceiling. Did I just say Sukuna was cute? No, he couldn't be. He is a rude, selfish, impatient, serious, self-confident, independent, disciplined, strong, handsome, rich man... I couldn't fall in love with him. I was his trainer, his co-worker. I couldn't like him because he has an amazing body, takes care of me even if he doesn't want to admit it, and kisses me like no one else ever has, right? Right?!

Oh.

I was in trouble.

Masterlist.

Order your own fanfic! (Starting price: $5 USD)

Tag list: @maskedpacific @thepurpleempath @mazzd4 @charlie-xo @s0uldarling @sunako-0120 @berranurates

(Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!)

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adawngswife · 5 months

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dating sean diaz hcs pt. 1

- the kind to get mad when he’s embarrassed. like, for example, if he were trying to show off some skate trick he learned and kept messing up to you, he would lwk start tweaking and hit his board on the floor rlly hard 😭 but he wld realize how even more embarrassing that was and apologize awkwardly

- he does the same whenever u guys play games together and daniel ends up joining. daniel is scarily good at bedwars and it makes sean rage lowkey 😭

- daniel and u end up bursting out in laughing fits whenever u guys spawn kill him n sean always goes “what? what’s so funny?!” but then ends up laughing with u guys

- if ure both poc, i imagine u guys exchange the corny dramatic shows from ur home countries w/ each other

- sean shows u the corny telenovelas his dad watches sometimes and u guys always make fun of the unnecessary dramatic scenes

- about twenty minutes in sean always stares at the screen not blinking w/ his jaw hung open though 😭

- both of u end up like that and once the credits roll u say “that sucked ass” in unison

- sean loves small, barely noticeable skin ship in front of other people

- hand holding under the table, arm draped on ur shoulder, quick embraces, and honestly just sitting side by side together is enough for him

- he gets embarrassed if its anything more than that but he has a stupid grin he has to hide on his face after

- if u guys ride the school bus together i can imagine sean sitting behind u and always stands halfway up to look at whatever ure doing 😭 kind of an ick but u cant see his bottom half so its okay <3

- sean hates house parties but somehow always gets dragged one way or another (usually bc of lyla)

- his only requirement is that if he goes, u have to come with him

- back to the shy on physical contact thing, he DOES NOTTT play when hes jealous

- hes not some macho alpha dude but hell def tell guys to back off once they get too close

- grips ur hand extra tight the rest of the night after 😭

- sean always ends up dragging u into some room w no one in it

- both of yall r nosy n lowkey be looking through the party hosts stuff

- pro mma play fighters

- sean obviously has training w daniel and it ends up integrating into when u guys fight

- u guys try to be a cute couple and have little pillow fights but both of u guys end up taking that shit sooo serious

- u guys start dragging each other on the floor and body slamming each other 😭😭

- daniel thinks its sooo funny and tries to referee

- u guys ignore him n go crazy stupid 😭😭

- “STOP!! STOP!! TIMEOUT” is a recurring phrase in ur relationship just bc u guys always escalate off each other

- both of yall ugly laugh sm u have to stop before u puke n then a couple seconds later u burst out laughing again

tbh i have no clue if ive read some of these and subconsciously wrote them down here so sorry if this is similar to a lot of others ones 🙏

#lis2 #lis2 sean #life is strange #sean diaz x reader #sean diaz #sean diaz hcs #life is strange 2

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jihyoruri · 1 year

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❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 YOUTUBE SERIES huh yunjin

previous. masterlist . next

🧋💿 yn and yunjin being the most obvious people alive 1.3 million views

clip one 🧋( we found out yn wrote understand about yunjin.)

“okay so..” somi said to the girl sitting across from her, she was doing an interview with yn. “understand has been massive hit girl, how does it feel to be the second member to have a song out.”

“um.” yn looked up for a second. “it feels nice, I’ve always had a love for songwriting.”

“oh yeah.” somi exclaims. “you wrote this, so who’s it about?”

somi raised her eyebrows when yn laughed awkwardly. “um.” she scratched the back of her neck. “it’s actually about my member yunjin actually… she’s like a person that i genuinely love so much.”

(*youtuber caption * ynyn shippers are getting fed today 😭)

“oh!” somi says loudly.

“no!.” yn sits up in her chair defensively. “not like that, like in a friend way you know, like she’s a person in my life that i just know we’re gonna be friends forever.”

all somi does is raise one eyebrow .

(*youtuber caption * somi just like us fr)

clip two 🧋(yn and yunjin not being able to even be 2 millimetres from each other)

the girls were filming some behind the scenes of them practicing for their comeback.

as chaewon talked to the camera, in the background you could see yn and yunjin standing in front of each other holding both of each other’s hands.

yn says something to yunjin and walks towards to the water dispenser, only for yunjin to follow close behind her and wrap her arms around yn.

cut

the girls were walking out of music bank, ready for the fansites to start taking photos and to see fans outside.

yunjin and yn held hands as they walked out the building waving at the fansites.

yn let go of yunjin’s hand to make a heart with sakura, only for yunjin to switch sides to hold her other hand.

cut

yn waved to camera, the one that was going to be her fancam.

the camera follows her as she walks towards yunjin asking her to help her fix her mic, while the other girls get in ready position.

yunjin fix’s her mic before wrapping her arms around yn pressing the girls face into her neck.

both girls flinch when they hear chaewons finger snap at them to get into their positions.

cut

“these two.” chaewon points at yn and yunjin “are inseparable.” the girls are on knowing bros. “they can’t go a second without being together.”

“see look !” eunchae yells pointing at the two girls in their uniforms yn had her arm tucked into yunjins they both throw their heads back in embarrassment as everyone in the room laughs.

clip three 🧋 (that one airport video.)

the camera pans to yn and yunjin who are standing in line at the airport.

both girls in comfy clothes since it was a very early flight, yunjin pulls on her hoodie as she listens to yn talk to her.

the out of knowhere the camera catches yunjin face gets close to yn’s face, following with yn jumping back in surprise.

(*youtuber caption* ummm what was that 🤨)

clip four🧋(yn and yunjin MMA that’s it.)

yn whispers something to yunjin, still looking straight a head but yunjin turns her head towards extra close and from a viewers point of view, it looked like she didn’t hear what yn said and asked her to repeat.

yn turns her head ready to repeat it but jumps back at how close yunjin’s face was to hers (their lips were almost touching.)

yn holds her hand on her heart turning away as yunjin puts her head in her hands in embarrassment.

🧋📁 yn’s song understand is actually understand by keshi if anyone wanted to know

#le sserafim #yunjin #yunjin x reader #huh yunjin x reader #yunjin imagines #huh yunjin

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wingzie · 1 month

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Jikook: But I Still Want You

During Seoul Final in 2019, Jimin and Jungkook changed the lyrics at the end of The Truth Untold to “but I still want you.” Compared to every other change made for the final concert, this was never explained. These different lyrics hold a significance that still applies today.

In a year of uncertainty, the members strived to do their best for us in 2020. They filmed and released content throughout the year, putting us first in their minds. They kept us going during our darkest times and made us feel less alone when most of us were struggling, online and offline. They tried to make each performance unique but with the same powerful moves and meaning. With certain restrictions, they would try to keep themselves positive both backstage and onstage. They kept the flow of music and happiness going and expressed wanting to do this for many years. Not just during the hard times. It’s obvious that Jimin and Jungkook also spoke about this together previously, as seen in Festa:

A special performance is MMA 2020. Black Swan is already a heart wrenching song, even more so with the cancellation of the tour afterwards. To lose your true love and passion for something, to face those fears and then conquer them within art is such a powerful message. It must have been incredibly hard for them to go through their worst fears during lockdown and we could see how they supported each other during these times. With Jimin and Jungkook, we saw them nearly always together as we usually do. And this was reflected in their performances too.

In a cruel twist of fate, they wouldn’t be able to perform Black Swan live in front of an audience for a few years. I wish that BTS could have performed their MMA 2020 set in front of a live audience, but of course that wouldn’t be possible. The performance is so tender, as we see Jungkook being dragged away from Jimin. Jimin then struggled to get through and then the powerful lift when they reunited. You could still feel the impact of the performance though through the screen and there are countless praises for Jikook’s part especially:

It would be a long time until BTS would be reunited with Army again. They continued with their releases, but we could see how much the distance between them and us was affecting them. We saw this when Jimin suddenly cried during MOTS:Online and how Jungkook comforted him, very much aware of what they were each feeling. Once we were together again,we gave them so much love and you could see the relief on their faces. That they had made it and Jimin and Jungkook seemed just as affected by this too. They have an extra connection on stage and that was in full force as they played around, got extra close and flirted together. It was like no time had passed at all. This hug is different from their normal ones, it silently says “We did it. We made it.”

Chapter two began and, though they did their separate things, that connection remained strong. They supported each other as much as they could, occasionally missing each other and talking about the other at any opportunity they had. This would have been a different set of circumstances that they are used to, but they made it work. Whilst also enjoying time by themselves or working on other things. Another new situation is enlistment. Though it’s been a talking point for many years, it was soon time for each member to enlist. With Jimin and Jungkook deciding to take part in the buddy system. Showing that with each struggle or new experience, they are always there for each other. And will continue to be. No matter what happens, that look and message from 2019 still remains:

#jikook #wingzie #jikookttu

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carnivorousyandeere · 3 months

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Darling proficient in martial arts… their yandere could be a competitor, team member, coach, fan, nurse/physical therapist… imagine it’d be quite difficult to subdue someone who spends hours every day training in self-defense and maybe practicing with weapons~! Or maybe their yandere would just enjoy getting beat to a pulp?

By some types of martial arts:

In martial arts like karate, practitioners are encouraged to maintain an intense degree of self-control. Actually striking an opponent with force to injure is grounds for automatic disqualification in a sparring match, and even outside matches, you’re encouraged to be patient and avoid conflict as much as possible. A particularly spiteful yandere could probably ruin a country- or world-class athlete’s reputation if their Darling beat them up, and they knew how to spin the optics in their favor…

Martial artists like boxers and MMA fighters get injured a lot. A competitor or team member could go damn-near all out on anyone that threatens you in the ring (or their chance to fight you themself…), with an audience cheering them on as they do it. I mean, sure, the refs would hate them but it’s not like they care 🤷. Also an incredibly good setup for a nurse/medic yan. Just don’t think too hard about what they do with all the bloody gauze afterwards.

It’s also kind of funny to imagine wrestling, with the yan being a huge fuckin heel and a face Darling who genuinely dislikes them (but of course, everybody thinks their distaste is just part of the show).

By the dynamic:

Rivals are a fucking classic, and for good reason. “You’re the only one worthy of facing me.” Obsession masked as hatred, leaning in close to trash talk but failing to hide their glance at your lips… Maybe they stalk you under the guise of trying to catch you doping and cheating ‘cause they can’t accept that you’re really just that good. Losing to you while their heartbeat, quick with anger and shame, begins to beat quickly for different reasons as you stand over them and gloat, or maybe you choose to offer your hand to help them up… Besting you in competition, feeling self-satisfied and smug— or maybe they feel empty, unsatisfied— “go practice some more and try me again.” Bonus points for silliness if this whole dramatic rivalry is between a Yan and a Darling who both objectively suck at the sport

Team members/fellow students for the casual intimacy of training together, of booking hotel rooms to share for out-of-state competitions. Sharing water bottles when one of you forgets (and if you’re not forgetful, they certainly will be 🤭). Maybe they’re better at the sport than you, and so they have the responsibility to help train and guide you, or maybe it’s the opposite, and you have a cute newbie clinging to your every word and instruction. They’d certainly stalk you too, studying your routine like a rival might, though they’re certain down to their bones you can’t be cheating! You must have some special routine that makes you so strong— like extra workouts, or certain foods you eat! Extra points for angst and cognitive dissonance if Darling actually is a fuckin cheat lol

Coach/Instructor for that sweet, sweet power imbalance. Maybe they’re extra strict with you because they can see your potential. Maybe they’re extra lax ‘cause of their gigantic soft spot for you, and the other students resent the special treatment you get. Coach overseeing your training personally, instructing you, watching you run laps and do push-ups. They like watching you get all sweaty and out of breath from training. And the little strained noises you make when stretching are just too cute! It’s a little too easy for them to touch you under the guises of correcting your form, or helping you stretch. They’d barely have to stalk you, especially if you were a world-class athlete— they’d be in charge of your schedule anyway. Workouts, meals, competitions, trips, all under their control~!

#I don’t need more yans i dON’T NEED MORE YANS #but also this would be such a good setup with modern Kyra… Kyra boxing…. 🤤#my thoughts #yandere #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere cw

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astrasrebloggedfics · 5 months

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Saved Toji Fics

SFW

Vampire!Toji

Toji Loves Thic Women

Morning After (Husband!Toji)

What is Love

That's Why I Love You (pregnant reader)

Dog tags

The Couple and The Cashier

Doctor!Reader x Dad!Toji

Ass, Tits, or Thighs (Suggestive)

Jealous!Toji

Dad!Toji Megumi's Height

Hide and Seek (Ft. Megumi)

Toji Sleeps Naked (Highly Suggestive

The Fight For The Television (Dad!Toji)

Three Little Words

Can't Take My Eyes Off You

Toji With Newborns

Toji Has Lots of Money

Fluff Alphabet V

Getting Fast Food

Extra Mean To Others

Toji Respects Women

Baby's First Words

NSFW

Trying to Dom Toji

Dry Humping

Roommates

Dilf!Toji & Babysitter

Blowjob

Obsessed with You Breasts

A Brothel but With Men

Jealous!Toji

Noise Competition

Werewolf Toji Part 1 Part 2

Loves to Fuck You Dumb

Me and My Husband (assassin!Toji)

W/ Reader's Oral Fixation

Leaving the Door Open

Dilf!Toji and College!Neighbor!Reader

Dumbification and Breeding

Crying

Things Toji Says in Bed

Hotel Maid!Reader

Bets

Boyfriend's Uncle

Panties

Yakuza Boss!Toji x Needy!Reader

Too Big (For Condoms)

Crybaby!Reader

Want Some Milk With That?

Ex Husband!Toji

Soft Dom!Toji

Virgin Killer!Toji (filming)

Love Line (MMA!Toji)

Making You Explain What You Want Him To Do

Toji Punishes You

Mean!Possessive!Toji Getting You Pregnant

Pleasing the Wife

The Sorcerer Killer

Birthing Hips

Lovesick

He's Married (angst)

Toji's Valentine's Gift

Neighbor

Baby Fever

Hungry Husband

Mine

Big Dick!Toji

Loves Making You Cry

College Teacher!Toji

Sucking Tits in Public

Dilf!Toji x College!Reader

Hate (Jealous) Sex

Electrician!Toji

Fucking You So Good

Tease And Feast

Old Tricks, Same Treats (halloween)

Short NSFW

Fresh Out Of the Shower (lightly NSFW)

Toji's Trophy Wife

S & M

Promiscuous

Dilf!Toji x Babysitter!Reader (Cheating On Wife)

Locking Down Toji

Dirty Diaries

Better Than Breakfast

Fuck Boy!Toji

"How Do You Feel Mama?"

Stay the Night

One of His Girls

Belly Bulge

Missing You

Dilf!Toji

Dilf!Toji Slapping You With His Cock

Dilf!Toji Shopping

Mechanic!Toji

Lemon (One of my personal favorites)

Divorced!Toji

Dilf!Toji

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baeddel · 8 months

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when i was a child i liked combat sports; i took martial arts classes (i forget which form) and i competed in fencing. i had to stop when i went to highschool because we didn't have time for it anymore. after leaving highschool i met a girl who did boxing and i planned to go and sign up at her gym to learn it with her, but i became too ill and it never happened. still, it had reignited my interest in combat sports and i would talk about it with people. i told one guy that i liked the look of Muay Thai; he expressed a common view, which was that martial arts like this sucked, because they were impractical in a real fight. he liked Krav Maga because it was real.

[long-ish post about fighting]

and i always objected to that kind of thinking! look here: it's true that much of the game which is played on the mat is produced by the restrictions placed on combatants. even in a very permissive sport like MMA, the great importance of ground fighting to that sport is produced by the restriction on fish-hooks and head kicks. thus, you can say that even these fights 'aren't real' in some sense. but how often are you ever going to be in a fight where you're willing to rip the other guy's cheek out, gouge out his eyes and so forth? Krav Maga was first developed for Jews to defend themselves from anti-semitic mobs in the 1930s. i know that some of you have certainly been in fights like that; but not all fights are that existentially serious. even in fights where there is such a high level of emnity there are often factors which restrain the fight from becoming an existential one. if you live somewhere that fascists are embedded and you blind one of theirs in a fight you might expect retribution; likewise you would be guilty of a felony and might get in real trouble. apprehensions like this might stay your hand—and already you are engaging in a kind of combat which is to some extent governed by extra-martial rules that produce a to some extent artificial situation.

of course, some martial arts will be more useful to know in the kind of combat games you are likely to play even so, and Muay Thai has not suddenly become more useful than Krav Maga on the basis of what i said. but i think that it is common to 1. underestimate the usefulness of even highly artifical combat sports, like fencing, and 2. overstate the utility of various 'self-defence' techniques, especially blinding, because the artificial, rules-governed nature of real fights is forgotten.

on point one, i would always credit my fencing experience with my success at fighting in highschool. i would sometimes even adopt the pose—one hand back, foot pointed forward—and people would (jokingly) say, 'it's [her] style! [she's] the fencer!' this part was not really useful; these fights were between friends and featured no emnity; we wanted to entertain the crowd, so there was a certain amount of kayfabe. but we were teenagers and behaved badly; once blows began we really hurt each other, and i even sent a few kids to the hospital (one with a concussion and the other with a wounded leg). plus, secret feelings of jealousy and resentment could be awakened during the course of the fight, so more emnity was felt as the fight grew more serious. what i thought really helped me from all the fencing matches was simply the sparring experience. when another living person attacks you without relenting, watches your movements for openings, and tries to stop whatever you do to them, it's difficult not to be overwhelmed and confused. being able to keep a level head, comprehend the situation and make decisions in the moment gave me an advantage over less experienced friends.

on the second point, i had older male friends who gave me a lot of advice that i can now recognize was plainly bad advice. for example, a girl i had a crush on had an older brother who always gave me and her other friends a hard time. i hated him so much i wanted to do something about him. so my friend told me that when fighting a larger and stronger opponent, i should do this... and this... a lot of techniques that had i really gone and done it would have left him permanently blind and disfigured. how do you think my crush would have felt if i went and did all that to her brother? these 'real' street fighting techniques were not useful in a real fight—a fight with stakes proportional to my real situation. when i did end up in situations with existential stakes (you know the stories) these techniques did nothing for me, since i would be alone against multiple attackers, or the other guy had frightening connections, or there was an asymmetry of power (who teaches 'defense against a guy in a car'?). in all cases the only wothwhile advice i ever got was this: you cannot run away in high heels.

similarly, when we had our low-stakes fights at school, the crowd would call out for me to punch the other guy in the face, or to kick him when he was down. afterwards they were disappointed that i didn't 'really go for him.' all this kind of talk really got to me; i would be standing there, facing my opponent and saying to myself, 'do it! do it!' in the end i never punched anyone in the face or tried any kind of dirty fighting at all. for this i hated myself so much. i was furious with myself; i would sit down and be angry at myself for a long time. i considered myself a coward and a weakling because i wouldn't go 'all in.' i didn't 'have the guts.' actually, what i felt was compassion for another person, and it was not a contemptable restraint at all. what was i trying to do—what was i trying to become? i think this is a way you can be misled by the discourse around 'real fighting.'

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pedroscurls · 15 days

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chance encounters | pt. 1

character(s): Benny Miller, fem!Reader, (very) brief cameos from the rest of the Triple Frontier boys at the end summary: You've lost your way after losing your best friend in a tragic car accident. So, you go back to the one sport that makes you feel closer to him. word count: 1.9k a/n: This story is very personal to me and pulled from some real-life experiences (maybe not exactly, but still). I know I said I wouldn't write anything within this time period with April being such a very emotional month for me, but I've found that this story is actually helping me through my grief. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading 🫶 warnings: very brief mentions of grief (which will be a reoccurring warning) series masterlist | ultimate masterlist

“Benny Miller. I’m the owner and potentially, your coach,” the man says with a charming smile. He’s tall, broad, built, and you can’t help but notice his deep blue eyes. There’s a sense of comfort that you feel when you look at him. He’s dressed in red shorts and a white t-shirt with a dark cap placed backwards on his head and you can see the dark blonde curls peeking out from underneath it. “Welcome to Miller MMA Gym.”

“Hi,” you finally respond, saying your name to introduce yourself. Your hand grips the strap of your duffle bag that was placed over your shoulder. You feel slightly out of your element even though this is your comfort zone. Fighting is your comfort zone.

“Nice to meet you. Let me give you a tour of the gym and then we can sit down and go over your goals and everything else. Sound good?”

“That sounds good,” you repeat. “Thanks.”

Benny spends the next twenty minutes giving you a tour of his gym and you can tell just from the sound of his voice that he loves this sport and he has put a lot of thought into creating a gym where he can share with other like minded people. There are black mats in the entirety of the building with thick, red outlines at the edges. There are about seven heavy bags lined up along the wall with an octagon cage towards the back of the building. The gym is small, cozy, and it makes you feel like it’s a place where you belong.

“This is a really nice gym you got, Benny.”

“I know it’s not as big as other MMA gyms. We don’t have all the fancy equipment, the extra free weights, but I like that it’s small. Plus, I don’t just let anyone train here.”

“Oh?” you ask, brow arching. “So, I’m guessing this is a bit like a consultation?”

Benny nods. “I want to make sure we’re a good fit. This sport…” he sighs. “I want people who are dedicated, who will push themselves to the limit, you know? I don’t want to waste your time and I certainly don’t want you to waste mine.”

“Makes sense,” you agree.

He removes his sandals and steps onto the mat. You follow him and set your duffle bag down, your feet touching the cushioned mats and your gently bounce on your toes before you sit down in front of him.

“How long have you trained for?”

“Never actually had a coach or joined a gym like this, if I’m being honest. My best friend,” you sigh shakily. “He used to fight, was an amateur though. He taught me everything I know and always encouraged me to pick up the sport too.”

“So, what changed?”

“He died.”

Benny offers you a solemn look. He bites the inside of his cheek and nods. He knows grief all too well and he had known the minute you stepped into his gym that there was something lingering within you, something that you wanted to keep hidden. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug. You had grown tired of hearing that. Why would they be sorry? What could they even do about it? It simply frustrated you. “Anyway, fighting’s always been something I felt comfortable doing and I don’t want to join an MMA gym where it’s all ego and trying to one-up one another.”

“I’m glad you said that,” Benny adds. “I’ve been to gyms like that and I fuckin’ hate it. I mean, we’re all there because we love the same sport. It can get competitive and sparring can get really bad… Which is why I like doing these consultations before even making a commitment with someone. I don’t want my gym to be like those.”

You nod, the corner of your lips lifting only slightly, but as quickly as it rose, it drops. You always had to catch yourself whenever you felt an ounce of happiness or relief. It didn’t feel fair. It didn’t feel right to be happy when your best friend was gone.

“Well, I want to fight, Benny. Competitively. I don’t know if I can even make it, but I want to try. Fighting is where I feel most at home.”

Benny smiles. You see his blue eyes light up. Then, he reaches his hand back out to you. “Well then, welcome aboard. I’d love to have you, and I’d love to train you and be your coach.”

The happiness flutters in your stomach and you force yourself to ignore it. You don’t smile at him, but your eyes - your eyes have always been so expressive. Your eyes soften when you look up at him, tears threatening to spill over, and you reach out to shake his hand. “I’d love that, Coach.”

“Welcome to the team,” he grins. “Let’s see what you got.”

—

An hour and a half later and you’re dripping with sweat. You’re leaning back against one corner of the octagon, knees close to your chest as you rest your arms over them, trying to catch your breath. Benny didn’t waste any time assessing your abilities, but you welcomed the distraction and for the last hour and a half, you hadn’t thought about your best friend.

“We got one more round,” Benny calls out. “Get back up, let’s go.”

You let out a deep breath and nod, standing. You shake your arms to loosen them, feeling the fatigue slowly begin to settle in. You glance at the time and see it begin to count down. Once the round begins, the sound of a buzzer filters the small gym and immediately, you bring your hands to cover your face, standing in an orthodox fighter’s stance.

Benny holds out the pads and calls out the following combinations:

Left jab, cross, left hook!

Double jab, cross!

Right front kick, double left round kick!

Throughout the round, you’re moving in the cage, staying light on your feet and never crossing them. You don’t even notice the way Benny’s smiling down at you, so proudly and full of hope.

“Alright, thirty seconds left!” Benny calls out. He notices how locked in you are, how focused, and he hasn’t seen someone as motivated in a first session as you. It gives him hope that you’re actually serious about competing.

Left jab, right body kick!

1-2 punch, left hook, right body kick!

Again!

By the time the round ends and the buzzer fills your ears, you’re breathing heavily, sweat dripping down your temples and the sides of your neck.

“Holy shit,” Benny chuckles. “You’re amazing.”

“My stamina is shit,” you say breathlessly.

“We’ll work on that,” he smiles. “Great job today.”

You remove your gloves and sit back down, leaning against the same corner of the octagon as you begin to unwrap your hands. You see the initials on your wraps and you’re brought back to reality. You bring your hands to stroke your dampened hair back and away from your face, redoing the hair tie to pull your hair into a tighter ponytail.

“That was– It felt like home,” you admit, looking up at him.

Benny chuckles and extends a hand for you. You take it and stand up, following him out of the octagon. “I’m excited about you, about this partnership. I think you’re gonna be great.”

You look at the time and realize that it’s already way past the normal business hours and quickly, you grab your duffle bag. “I didn’t mean to keep you here longer than you needed to be. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Benny says softly then adds, “I just realized we didn’t get to the paperwork side of things.”

“I can come in tomorrow,” you say, draping the strap of the duffle bag over your shoulder. “And however much it is, I’ll pay it up front.”

Benny’s eyes widen. “Whoa, whoa, wait–”

“I’m serious about this, Benny. There’s nothing I want more than to fight and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to do that.”

“Okay, tomorrow morning. Ten o’clock sound good?”

“Sounds great.” You shake his hand once more and he leads the both of you out of his gym. You look up at the sound of another man’s voice and see three other men - all of different statures - greet Benny with a smile. You don’t spend another second sparing each of them a glance, just now wanting to get home.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Benny calls out. “And I think I’ve got a great nickname for you.”

You toss your duffle back into the trunk of your car and shut it closed. You look over at Benny and notice all four men staring at you, but Benny’s the only one grinning. The other three, you notice, are staring at you with a look of hesitancy and curiosity. You take note that Benny’s the taller out of the four, but there’s another one that’s only a few inches shorter. He’s just as broad and built, the same blue eyes, but hair much shorter and slightly lighter. Then, your eyes veer off to the other two, your eyes lingering on one man in particular with a Standard Heating Oil cap placed atop of his curls. The other man standing next to him is the shortest, but he has just as big of a presence as Benny. His hair is greyer, but you have to wonder if it’s due to stress or if he’s much older than the rest of the group.

“A nickname is too soon, don’t you think? You don’t really know me yet, Benny.”

Benny shrugs. “Let’s just call it a gut feeling.”

“Okay, so what’s the nickname?”

“The Warrior,” he grins.

You chuckle. You actually let out a laugh and for months, you had almost forgotten what it was like to laugh. It’s ironic really, almost like your best friend was taunting you from even beyond the grave. He had always called you his little warrior after everything you had been through and how you had never given up, always willing to fight your way through difficult hardships. But now… Now you can’t even imagine fighting your way out of this grief that has taken over your life.

Benny then looks over at his friends, not realizing that he had forgotten to introduce them to you. “We can talk it over. I’m open to other nicknames, but it just seems right for you.”

“We’ll see, Benny.”

“By the way, these are my–”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Coach.” You interrupt him, not bothering to spare another glance at the other three men. You climb into your car and start it immediately, pulling out of the parking lot without another look at Benny or his friends.

Benny turns to his friends and shrugs. “She’s got potential,” he begins. “I think she can make it big.”

“You say that about almost everyone, Ben,” Santiago chuckles. “Is she usually that… standoffish?”

“She just lost her best friend,” Benny sighs.

“Damn,” Frankie mumbles.

“And you think that it’s a good idea that she fights?” Will asks. “Emotions and all of that–”

“I think she needs this,” Benny admits. “And we all know how it is to lose someone close to us.”

“Does she–” Frankie sighs. “Does she have anyone else to rely on?”

Again, Benny shrugs. “I just met her a few hours ago, but something tells me that she might be alone.”

“Fuck,” Santiago adds. “Well, is she any good?”

Benny nods. “Like I said, I think she can make it big.”

“Well, whatever you need, we’ll be here,” Will says, clasping a hand over his younger brother’s shoulder. “Now, should we all get out of here and go get some drinks?”

Santiago grins. “Yeah, let’s.” He nods in Frankie’s direction and adds, “Vamanos.”

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