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ohnococo · 24 days

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How To Fight | MMA Fighter!Toji x Physical Therapist!Reader

You love your job as a Physical Therapist, and would rather avoid any complications. Unfortunately MMA Fighter Toji Fushiguro has taken a liking to you. Despite your better judgement, you've taken a liking to him too.

✧ wc: 6.3k

✧ notes: A song fic taking place in the MMA AU. The song lyrics referenced are from How To Fight by Eartheater

✧ warnings: eventual angst, mma!au, no curse au, widowed Toji, divorced Toji, single dad Toji, fem bodied reader, pronouns used (she/her), pet names (sweetheart), flirting, unwanted advances, pussy referred to as 'she', physical therapist reader, recurring injury, injury recovery, vaginal sex, cumshot

i've tasted metals of my own blood, and learned to like it

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

It was against everything you stood for to be happy to see a client again, given your line of work, but Toji was different. Against your better judgement, he had somehow managed to work his way into your mind, burrowing past that steely wall of professionalism you kept up at all times with those in your care. You were determined to never let him know that, though.

“Well, Toji, I would prefer it if you didn’t keep getting yourself injured.”

He breezes right past that. “Just let me take you out, it’ll be a lot nicer than pushing me around and cracking my joints.”

It was a simplification bordering on misunderstanding your work, as if you were some chiropractor, but you know he’s only saying it to get you shoving him around with that tinge of annoyance he feeds right into your veins. You try not to give in, because you’re always trying not to give in to Toji, really. Then he’s resisting, just enough to make you really have to work to guide him in the stretch you want him to do, and he’s managed to get you right where he wants you yet again. You tug at his hips, guiding him into movements he should be familiar with by now.

“Just let me do my job.”

You had no intention of accepting his advances, whether they were in the form of invitations to dinner, sparkling bedroom eyes, or flirtatious comments that would have had you kicking anyone else right out of your office. Not Toji, though. With him, you just find yourself slowly allowing him to speak to you more and more familiarly.

The corner of his mouth lifts smugly just as he’s turning away, taking his gaze off of you directly to watch you in the mirror along the wall next to the mat you were standing on. He allows you to move him for a moment, only offering light resistance now, as if you could truly make him do anything he didn’t want to, then continues the twisting motion on his own. You watch his body carefully, avoiding eye contact because you already know those green eyes are fixed on your face, trying to coax you into giving him the smallest inch to turn into a mile.

“If you want your hands on me you don’t gotta use your job as an excuse.”

You ignore him outright, drowning out any potentially untoward thoughts with a strengthened focus on your work. As always, it works, and you note on your assessment forms that his hip mobility was normal. You knew it would be, that Toji knew how to throw his punches properly, but you’re always thorough with your checklist whether it was for the reasons Toji accused you of or not.

“Stand against the wall.”

He lets out a whistle, hands up as he does, “Gonna frisk me?”

“I’m gonna refer you to Yaga so you can get wrung out like a wet rag if you don’t do what I tell you.”

“Ooh, that doesn’t sound too bad, actually.”

“Toji.”

He chuckles as he settles into the position he already knows you want him in, doing lunges with the wall as a marker for how deep to press forward as you watch his ankle and knee movements.

“All good there.” You tap his back, nodding as you make your notes while he stands in wait.

“Okay, upper body.”

You know this is where he’ll need the work, as usual, and you’re quick to go through your checks with the right shoulder, moving onto his problem area. You already knew from his post-fight medical, but are happy to find, as you watch his movements as he lifts and rotates his arm, that it’s no more serious than the last time.

“Left shoulder…” you say aloud as you note it.

He looks annoyed, at himself rather than at you, “Always is.”

It makes you feel bad for him, in a way. He wasn’t really reckless in the ring. He knew his body too well and was too calculated with how he approached his fights. Unfortunately, it was simply a recurring injury, as shoulder issues often were. Something that was always going to pop back up sooner or later, but with the way Toji took so many fights even as he neared his forties it seemed to be “sooner” more and more often.

As you rotate his arm, feeling where he tenses and softening your movements, you share a little of your optimism with him - couched in realism, of course.

“Don’t look so sad. It’s similar to the last one, so it shouldn’t be too long before we have you out there in the ring living your best life.”

He laughs at that, sounding a little dryer than his usual flirty chuckle, “I’m not living my best life in there.”

You glance up at him while you continue your assessment, brows raising in muted interest before he continues.

“Put it this way, I like it because I like the money. I don’t love fighting.” He thinks on it a little more before adding, “I do love finishing fights, though.”

To you, there was little difference between those two things, but then you weren’t the one doing the fighting so you accept his feelings on the matter. “That’s fair. I think it’s kind of rare to really love your job.”

As you firmly grasp his bicep, lifting his arm outwards, he flexes for just a moment, grin returning to its usual wolfish state, “Bet you love your job though. Groping men all day.”

You release his arm, letting it fall for only a moment, but catching it as soon as he winces, “I’d love it a lot more if you let me do it without those kinds of comments.”

“Ehh,” he tilts his head, brows raising in disbelief at your continued assertions that you didn’t get any sort of satisfaction out of this (and you didn’t… until him). “I think you get something out of them.”

You ignore him again, returning to your desk to note your recommendations. “Four to six weeks of sessions, as usual.” You look up at him then, indirectly threatening him to behave, “Four will probably do though.”

It shouldn’t have been a threat, getting him back up to snuff as efficiently as possible, but it had become one by now with Toji. It was a joke, of course. Toji would feign being hurt by the thought of it, but was always happy to be able to accept his next fight as soon as possible.

But sometimes it didn’t feel like a joke. Sometimes you did want a little more time basking in his flirtations. Toji Fushiguro had unfortunately grown on you and it often left you feeling ashamed. His reputation precedes him. He’d even been married when he first came into your office, and here you were worrying about missing those butterflies in your stomach at his little reminders that he is completely fixated on you.

When you find yourself smiling a little too widely at him, or even thinking about him outside of your sessions, you have to remind yourself that there was nothing actually there. It was just what he was like with anyone that caught his eye, even if it was only ever you he was assigned to once you’d started working there.

The why of it all wasn’t a mystery in the beginning. He was a relentless flirt that, based on how cagey some of your coworkers were about hearing he would be in your care, had apparently enjoyed his time with many of them before you. You didn’t mess around about your job, though. You loved your work, and you loved the convenience of this position, so you’d decided that you absolutely would not be added to his list of conquests.

At first keeping that professional level of disinterest was easy. It had seemed so obvious that he’d move on and request another PT work with him after the first of his recurring injuries led to several sessions worth of you rejecting his advances. That wasn’t the case, though. Maybe that was exactly why he kept coming to you and only you. The challenge.

And it was a challenge, for the both of you. You were intent on giving him nothing, and he was intent at making that as hard as possible for you without even really trying. By the third time he’s booked in for several sessions with you for post-fight recovery, you find yourself actually letting your guard down around him, if only a little. You might have even missed him.

i've gone under the knife of love, dissected every vein and vessel

Another week, another therapy session, another attempt to keep your composure, even with how relentless Toji is.

“How long are you gonna keep making me ask before you let me take you to dinner?”

You shoot him a look. The answer should be never, followed by asserting quite bluntly that you don’t sleep with clients, since he wasn’t exactly being subtle. That’s what the answer used to be, at least. It’s not quite that direct now, though. “How long are you going to keep getting yourself injured and winding up here?”

He puts his hand to his heart, feigning pain, “Listen, if I didn’t have a bum shoulder I wouldn’t get to come and be your favourite client.”

“I wouldn’t say favourite.”

He lifts his head from your massage table, flashing you a winning smile and the closest to puppy dog eyes a man like Toji could muster. “Cutest?”

“I wouldn’t say that either.”

He closes his eyes, relaxing onto your table as you move and massage his shoulder firmly, “Whatever you say, sweetheart…”

Toji really did enjoy testing you. Especially with his favourite little pet name for you. Sweetheart. ’Even though you’re not too sweet to me’ he’d said with a little pout, entirely undercut by his hungry eyes. You used to shoot him looks that could have killed a man on the spot in some other universe. Now you don’t look at him at all when he says it, it feels too risky. It feels like something in your eyes will give you away.

You throw out another of the many threats Toji knows are baseless by now, said as many times and with as little conviction as most of your defences against him. “You’re lucky I don’t kick you out.”

He peeks at you through barely opened eyes, as you stretch his arm outward, “That's what I’m saying, you’ve got a soft spot for me.”

That’s your final signal to put your proverbial work hat on a little more snugly as you push down, and he taps his fingers against you, indicating his limit for this particular stretch. He understands you’re truly done with the conversation as you pat his side and step back.

“Alright, time for strengthening exercises.”

This was the part he always got bored with. You weren’t touching him now, not after the first time to demonstrate what you wanted from him. You weren’t naive enough to believe him when he kept feigning a need for more hands-on guidance as he goes through the recommended motions. A man doesn’t get to the point of looking like Toji without knowing how to lift weights - especially not the small ones you had him on just to slowly get his strength back in his shoulder.

Even then, lying on the floor, raising a little 5 pound weight with his healing arm while you stand above him watching closely, he’s still ready to run his mouth.

“I like this.”

“It feels alright?”

“The weight is fine, but I like having you standing over me like that.”

You give him nothing, pursing your lips as you put the tip of your shoes between his arm and the ground, “Keep your arm up, don’t bring it down too far.”

Ignoring his comments is the best you can do sometimes. Even if it gets harder with every session as you start to actually look forward to it deep down. Even if it becomes your only defence until you’re spending a good chunk of these sessions in a near haze, trying to force as much emotional distance as possible once his flirting starts up.

His comments were uncalled for, and so was the way it made you feel. You were far from the type to be desperate for the attention of a man like him, and the way your body responded to him only pissed you off the more it excited you. All you can do, or all you’re willing to do, is shut it down, and remember that you have a job to do.

—

After three more sessions of this you’ve convinced yourself that you’re more than ready to discharge him and hopefully enjoy a peaceful several months without the risk of seeing his face again. The fact that it never used to take convincing to enjoy having the walking talking complication out of your life is something you aren’t willing to address.

“You’re gonna miss me, aren’t you?”

“Don’t start, Toji.”

You know you can’t really tell him what to do, unfortunately.

“You don’t have to if you-“

“That’s right, I don’t have to miss you, and I won’t. Hopefully you don’t go getting yourself injured again so you can come and bother me more.”

Your tone has him sucking in air through his teeth and grimacing a little.

“I don’t exactly like getting injured.” He looks away as he speaks and it’s strange not having his eyes on you like you were some sort of prey to be carefully observed. “I couldn’t even help my son move into his dorm. Cage fighter dad that can’t even lift a fucking box. It pisses me off.”

He shrugs, eyes back on you, lit up anew, “But at least I get to see your pretty face, huh?”

As much as you don’t enjoy Toji’s comments, you like these little glimpses of something else even less. Because he does talk to you. About his day, about little things that pop in his head when he’s bored of flirting for seconds at a time. And it makes it much harder not to get a little too attached when he isn’t just being a simple womaniser.

It sometimes makes you feel like Toji thinks you’re some sort of therapist - when he’s not relentlessly trying to get you into his bed. And you know that’s what all of his flirting is, of course.

Because his reputation precedes him. Yes, he’ll take someone out. Yes, they’ll have a good time. Yes, they’ll fuck. Except in your case you aren’t a part time receptionist or ring girl that might be able to avoid awkward situations with him during the nothing that comes after all of that. And you aren’t willing to mess up the good thing you have with your job, even though some of your coworkers seemed to be.

What wasn't mentioned to you as part of his reputation, was the little breadcrumbs of who he was beneath the charm and muscle. It’s known he was a prodigy in his sport. It’s known he retired young to be a family man. And it’s known he came back, 5 years later, newly widowed.

He doesn’t talk about his first wife much, because why would he? Any brief mentions of her are with an undying warmth and love that undercuts his reputation as a heartbreaker. She’s special. The mother of his child, his first love. The former is stated, the latter is obvious. Nothing short of that would melt that hardened mask of indifference.

His second wife, he doesn’t speak about at all. You only know of her because he mentions a step-daughter, and because when he’d flirted with you from the very first time he’d entered your care your eyes had locked onto the ring on his finger with contempt for how little it apparently meant. By the time you see him next, nearly half a year and another injury later, he isn’t wearing the ring anymore.

Something in you feels flattered when you ask Toji about how his son was finding college in front of a coworker who had been here much longer than you, and they’re shocked as they say they didn’t know he had kids. Then, you’re left even more annoyed at him for giving you more complications to maintaining a necessary level of professional distance in your job.

Small talk shouldn’t feel so heavy.

Helping people recover shouldn’t make you have to deal with these thoughts.

i know how to fight, how to fuck, how to die, how to resurrect my pride

When you give in, it’s in the worst way. He doesn’t even take you to dinner, you don’t give him a chance to. It’s his fourth time in your care, this time for an ankle injury. Something basic, something much more simple to deal with than his recurring problem. Something that will get him out of your hair in no time.

He isn’t simple to deal with though, telling you about the dogs his son adopted, how he never really got how people got so attached to animals growing up, but now he gets it. He’s got you comfortable, not even thinking about how your guard is down, nor about how you even smile at him as he shows you a picture of his son, buried under two masses of fluff and begrudgingly smiling at the camera.

“God, Toji, you really just have a little twin there, don’t you?”

He laughs, looking at the picture of his son, before setting his phone aside on the mat. “Nah, there’s a lot of his mom in there.”

You smile, patting his shoulder in a rare touch outside of professional reasons, “That’s nice.”

He lies back on the mat, out of your reach, “You’re nice, for once.”

You get back to work, wrapping your hands around his ankle and bending his foot slowly. “I’m nice to people who aren’t constantly trying to get into my pants.”

“Hey, who said I was trying to do that? I’m just trying to take you out.” He sits up and leans onto his elbows, “but if that’s the kind of thing you’re interested in…”

“I’m interested in doing my job. I don’t mind talking to you when you relax with the inappropriate comments.”

“I’ve gotta prove myself to you before you’ll let me take you out, got it.”

“Is that what I said, Toji?”

Toji shrugs, fully relaxing back onto his elbows, and you pull on his foot gently. “That’s what I heard.”

You shoot him a look that you hope can put fear into the heart of even him. Instead, it only seems to inspire other emotions as he forms his scarred lips into a pout that misses the mark of garnering pity for his plight as a man rejected yet again, though you’re certain Toji knows exactly what he’s doing when he makes faces like that. Even with his lips puckered and sticking out slightly, even with his brows fashioned into a worried frown, his eyes telegraph exactly what he’s thinking about.

It crumbles your resolve, leaving you looking away first as you let out a sigh you hope comes across as frustration instead of weakness. You readjust your position squatting down next to him on the mat, trying to get a feel for the flexibility of his ankle before you start guiding him through putting some of his weight onto it as he straightens the other leg and lifts his hips off the mat before settling back down.

He’s quiet then, for much longer than you were used to, and you take the silence as an opportunity to work in peace as you rotate his foot again. When you look back up at him it has your heart beating a little faster than it should be. His teeth press lightly at his lower lip, his eyelids are only half open, and his brow quirks as if just your look had the same effect as having said something dirty.

“What is it now?”

You expect him to make some comment about your hands on his body, how they were lingering even now. He makes you wait for it though, tilting his head from one side to the other as he looks you up and down, smiling like he has a secret he’s debating keeping.

Another sigh falls from your lips, filled with actual frustration this time, and when he sits up it feels like he’s towering over you in a way you simply could not overcome, despite being able to easily stand and remove yourself from the pull of his gaze. The way he peers at you, even more intense than usual, has the back of your neck tingling and you’re forced to swallow hard even with the fear that something as simple as that would give you away.

His gaze softens, dipping back into something cooler, as if he’s backing away from an animal signalling that an approach would not be treated kindly. He takes a deep breath, and you don’t even notice you’re following suit until you both exhale at the same time.

It’s as if he’s settling whatever that moment was with just a look, deciding not to make the final jump to cross that imaginary line, and it puts you at ease enough that his words are like a punch to the gut.

“You’re pretending you don’t like it, but your neck is doing that thing.”

“What? What are you talking about?” You’re blowing it, far too defensive even though you truly aren’t actually sure what he means.

“Here.” He brings a hand to your neck, tracing a finger down the length of it, stopping just above your collarbones. “You always tense riiiiight there.”

He pulls his hand back, settling it on his thigh, and you let out the breath you’d been holding from the moment his hands were coming towards you. It makes you realise you’d been so focused on controlling everything you did or said that you’d been clenching yourself like a fist every time his words, or actions, left you melting inside. It also makes you realise that was the first time he’d put his hands on you in a way entirely unrelated to your work since he shook your hand the day you’d met.

You’re horrified at having been found out. You’re even more horrified as you realise you hadn’t really been hiding anything anyway. It’s left you with no clue how to respond, and you suddenly feel so aware of your every movement, unable to decipher how to behave when your little act had been so, so obvious to him from the start.

“Look, if you really want me to stop, I’ll st-“ he pauses, looking up as he thinks, scrunching his nose and tilting his head as if he’s weighing options. “Well, I’ll try to stop. I can’t make any promises…”

He’s pausing again, thinking again, looking you up and down as he licks his lips, before he crosses his legs, pulling his ankle out of your grasp and resting his elbows on his thighs as he leans forward. It forces you to react, as if on instinct, and lean back off of your feet to seat yourself with knees raised and acting as a final barrier between the two of you. He lets you keep that distance you’d gained, but brings a hand to hover over your knee so closely that you’re not sure if he’s touched you yet or if it’s just the heat radiating off of him setting your nerves on fire.

You can’t even bring your eyes away from his to check, and realise that you wouldn’t exactly want to move further away whether his touch was real or imagined. His gaze has you locked in place just as much as your own head as you find yourself thoroughly buried in your own pit of uncertainty as everything moves too fast for your mind to catch up.

“You don’t want me to stop though, do you sweetheart?”

His eyes, the heat of him, his low words digging through that pit in your stomach to reach for your core, it all has you feeling too lightheaded to be able to think at all. You can barely even feel yourself shaking your head, body much more honest than you had been willing to be all this time.

“Thought so.”

He leans in, brushing his nose back and forth against yours, smiling with the cute gesture, then that grin spreads wider as you tilt your head, your eyes fluttering closed as you wait for him to just kiss you. He doesn’t, waiting long enough that you’re forced to open your eyes and confront the sight of that hungry face yet again, and this time his gaze has you outright clenching.

“Big girls don’t get what they want by acting all shy, do they?”

It’s too much, you feel humiliated, you feel sick, you feel like you’ll pass out if he keeps working you up without even putting his hands on you properly.

“Kiss me. If you wanna.”

You don’t know who you are, needing to be told what to do like this. You question who you are again, as you follow orders in a way you never would have before you’d been called out like this and press your lips to his, letting out a breath that’s shaky enough to have you revealing just how desperate you were. When you start to wonder who you are for the third time, for kissing a client, at work no less, you drown out that thought by parting your lips against his.

He responds with softly parted lips of his own, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you into him as he slots his mouth against yours. You wait for his tongue, flitting the tip of yours against his lower lip, and when it does not come you’re clinging to his shirt, bunching it at his shoulders. You’re forced to hold onto those broad shoulders properly when he lies back and his hands on your waist bring you with him to settle you on top of him - wordlessly reiterating that you would need to pull yourself together and set the pace here.

It’s your final push, as you straddle him with hands braced against his chest and slide your tongue into his mouth. Feeling the body you’d had your hands on far too many times, this time beneath you and with your ability to lie to yourself about the effect it has on you stripped away, has you salivating. You set all shame aside for this moment as you grind down against him, indulging in the feel of his stiffening cock beneath layers of thin fabric.

That tense feeling threatens to return, prickling at the back of your neck as he laughs into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and guiding your movements against him with strong hands on your hips. It’s gone again as he lifts his hips gently, using your weight against you as you only press harder onto him. You squeeze at his pecs, groaning into his mouth as you finally goad him into kissing you back with the same intensity you were now pouring into him, and it’s as delightfully invasive as you’d tried your hardest not to imagine it would be time and time again. It sends a tremble through your thighs, the wetness pooling in your panties all too obvious to you as all of your hidden desperation pulses through you straight from your pussy.

You forget yourself while kissing him like this, unaware of how long you’ve been on top of him, unaware of how you were moaning outright with just the friction between you, unaware of anything but feeling and tasting and touching as much of Toji as you could.

He’s aware though, aware of everything just as he always has been. How your thighs squeeze at his hips, the way your moans start sounding more like breathy little whines, how your tongue stops moving for seconds at a time against his. And it’s all he needs to keep this momentum going so quickly that everything but the two of you is an unintelligible blur.

“You gonna cum just like this?”

You don’t really want to answer it, and the look you give him as you try to keep him kissing you rather than talking has him chuckling, light and breathy against your skin.

“Sweetheart… if you’d just let me take you out from the beginning you wouldn’t be so pent up and begging for it…”

It takes more concentration than you have available to you right now to steady your voice. “I’m not begging.”

He takes in your face, biting at his lower lip as he slides two fingers into your mouth. He wiggles them around, sliding over your tongue, practically fucking your mouth with those thick fingers, knuckles catching at your tightened lips. “You aren’t…”

His fingers leave your mouth just as you were starting to actually enjoy the intrusion, and he slips his hands into your leggings, past your panties, stopping you from pressing down against his clothed cock like you had been as he circles your entrance slowly, “but she is.”

Then, his hand is gone, resecured on your hips, steadying your movements. “But you’re the boss here, not her. So if you don’t want it…”

“Come on, Toji.” You’re chastising him, even if you’re in no position to do so with your thighs tensing and your hips begging to keep moving against him.

He clicks his tongue against his teeth, “Like I said, you’re the boss. So I don’t move without orders.”

And he doesn’t. He doesn’t keep kissing you, even when you press your lips against his again, sighing out your frustration against his soft smile. He doesn’t release your hips to let you keep stoking your fire on his body. He doesn’t do anything but look up at you with a hungry glint in his eye, enjoying every moment it takes you to push your pride aside to ask him for exactly what you’ve wanted longer than you can admit to yourself.

“I want to cum.”

“Just you? Not a very good boss, huh…”

You groan, frustration with him reaching a fever pitch, “I want you to fuck me.”

He closes his eyes, smiling wide and letting your words wash over him. It’s music to his ears, and when he looks back up at you his pupils are blown and you know he’s done holding back. “All you had to do was ask, sweetheart.”

His arm is around your waist then, keeping you steady as rolls you over, settling himself between your thighs and you’re now looking up at him. You feel the tensing of his body, and come back to yourself enough to give him a concerned look.

He catches it, pressing a hand to your cheek and rubbing his thumb over your lips in an attempt to soothe those worries.

“Shh, don’t worry, I’ll be careful.” He shifts so he’s not putting weight onto his ankle, pulling at your shoes until they’re sliding off and hitting the ground. You lift your hips as you work your own leggings and underwear down, straightening your legs for him to remove them for you before he’s spreading you wide with hands on your inner thighs. He slides a hand towards your pussy, rubbing his thumb through your wetness and sucking air through his teeth at the way it slips around with ease.

“You really were gonna cum like that, weren’t you?”

You run your hands over your face, unwilling to endure any more teasing, “Just fuck me, Toji.”

He whistles, releasing your thighs and tugging the waistband of his shorts down just enough to release his cock, and you look up to his face, refusing to give him a reaction until he’s sliding inside you just as you’ve asked. He braces himself on one of his elbows, leaning over you and letting his cock hang heavily against your stomach. His hair tickles at your face as he kisses you again before requesting a final affirmation before following the orders you’d given.

“Want me to go slow?”

He really does wear your patience thin, enough that you answer without thinking, “No.”

“Okay…” he sounds doubtful, but continues on as he grips himself at the base and rubs the head of his cock through your wetness.

You squeeze at his sides, prompting him to look at you instead of at his own cock below. “Do not cum inside me.”

It’s stern enough to make Toji laugh, your voice sounding much more like your usual self for just a moment. “Don’t worry, I don’t want any more responsibilities.”

You don’t know if you trust Toji, but right now you don’t exactly trust yourself either. Especially not when having this man you’d spent ages closing yourself off to split you open on his cock in one merciless push has you wincing and taking it like it was exactly what you deserved for being so weak to him.

Toji pauses, balls deep, eyes clouded as he looks down at you. “I asked if you wanted me to go slow.”

It’s said with a hint of pity and a look that says ’you did this to yourself’, though he does stay still, kissing you again and removing your need to try and collect your thoughts enough to reassert that you knew your body, not him.

He doesn’t hold back for long though, and once you’re sighing into his mouth again, your tongue’s movements sloppy and unfocused, he starts moving his hips slowly. He starts with shallow thrusts, hips barely leaving yours. Then, as your body relaxes and your pussy accommodates him with a telltale squelch, he pulls out further, fucking you harder. Once your thighs are gripping at his hips he sits up, gathering more momentum in his thrusts at the slight change of angle.

He presses his hand to your abdomen, thumb making out a steady pace on your clit as his hips make angled thrusts that have his cock working at you with purpose. The moan it draws from you is punctuated with your eyes rolling, trying desperately to refocus on the face of the man above you. He bites at his lip, nodding and groaning at the feel of you tightening as he finds the movements that have your hands trying to grip at something below, but only meeting the dull squeak of your fingertips sliding against the mat. He leans back, reaching up to grab at the back of the collar of his shirt and tug it over his head, tossing it aside. He grasps both of your wrists firmly, pulling your hands up to rest against his stomach as he looks down at you with a challenge in his eyes.

“C’mon, touch me.” He smiles, wide and wicked, “Like you’ve always wanted to.”

You do just that, running your hands over his abs, grazing your thumb over his belly button, tracing your fingers along the prominent vein on his abdomen that leads down below to where the two of you are connected. Then, your hands travel back upwards, gripping at his pecs. His hand returns to press at you, thumb back to playing with your swollen clit, and having that touch back so suddenly has you squeezing Toji’s pecs hard, drawing a moan from him.

“There you go.” It adds even more enthusiasm to his thrusts, speed picking up as he leans over you, propping himself up on one hand as he digs deep to have you squeezing him again.

This time your touch is intentional as you squeeze at the flesh, a slight give present before you reach hardened muscle, and when you graze your nails over his nipples he’s shivering above you, bucking into you harder. The way he rubs at your clit is almost mechanical in its precise speed and pacing, a steady climb punctuated by those thrusts that stroke your insides in a way that makes your body tingle and your toes curl.

“That easy, huh?”

The audacity helps you lock eyes on him, if only for a moment, and while his smug smile builds a small fury at the back of your mind, your receive vindication in the flutter of his lashes and slight twitch of his upper lip as he tries to ignore the call of his tightening balls. It gives you what you need to dig deep, rocking your hips up into his thrusts, unearthing the orgasm just below the surface for the both of you.

You find yours first, putting your trust in Toji as you let go and bounce into him as it rips through you white hot and powerful enough to have you curling in on yourself, head buried against Toji’s chest and legs clamping him until his hips are pressed to yours. He pushes past even the strength of your legs and pulsing pussy, thrusting until you release him, lying back, and your head has barely hit the mat below before he’s pulling out.

“Fuck…” it’s hissed out as he sits up and jerks at his cock roughly, head falling back while his hips buck up and into his fist. His cum spatters down, first landing on your shirt until you tug it up, hopeless as the task was with your clothes already ruined, and take the rest of it onto your bare stomach.

He’s left panting, you’re left panting. He looks like he’s won at something, you feel like you’ve lost.

#reminder minors and ageless blogs get blocked #my writing #mma!au #mma!toji #mma fighter!toji #toji x reader #toji x y/n #toji x you #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x reader #x reader #self insert

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bon2bonn · 5 months

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Paper hearts PT.1

Lets go!🥊🌼

MMA!fighter!Max Verstappen X female!reader

Max verstappen X fem!reader

Words count : 1.3k

09:30 The buzzing audience held their breath as the third round rolled in , anticipating the movements of both opponents as they glide across the ring circling around before lunging to attacck .

He had the upper hand through the previous rounds , now defending perfectly before cornering his opponent delivering quick and brutal punches and kicks . Before spinning a 360° to aim a back kick that knocked him out . The audience roared as the referee declared it a K.O . The bell rang declaring him the winner .

The flashing cameras, the swarms of people congratulating him shaking his hands , clamping him on the back as he passed and chanting his name all fade into white noise in the confidence of the locker room , his team high on spirit all congratulate him again as he thanked them all for their efforts and support making a small speech a promise to more wins and more achievements to come .

getting checked by one of the medics as everyone was backing up or busy with their own thing preparing to celebrate yet another win , his father approached , not looking so pleased with his win , "that would've finished sooner if you didn't let your gaurds down the first round" . he huffed collecting his bag shoving his phone and wallet in getting ready to leave adding curtly "I had it covered" , his father replayed with great annoyance "it could have cost you the match" max just stared at him "it didn't, and if that's not enough for you" he raised the belt giving him a pissed look "this should be enough for you to get you off my back , and fuck off" .

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02:45 She hastly pocketed her phone , wore a hoodie , an old baseball cap , picking her shoes and tiptoeing to the window carefully , opening the latch and looking out the window for a minute or so , then she threw her shoes out making sure to not hit the overly expensive uniquely designed (ugly) birds statue's strewn across the garden , then she pulled herself out the window sitting on the ledge . The hight still gave her nausea , the third floor is not that easy to psych yourself to get down from , specially when your way down is an old piping system that she's totally sure is rusted out , but she'll make do with what she got , and that's what she got now so she reached to the pipe with one hand steadily sliding to firmly plant her bare feet on the sides of it , she counted in her mind then she pulled her Wight off the window and latched both her hands and feet onto the main pipe , sliding slowly down to the floor below, pausing every now and then to make sure it's still Holding and that no one woke up .

Letting an exaggerated huff as she finally reached the ground , putting her shoes on and making sure the coast is clear then climbed up the fence and made a run down the road heading north .

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03:15 his flight touched down , late flights are a pleasing when the airport looked almost deserted , finding a cap he gave the address leaning back , looking out the window at the lamp posts eliminating the empty streets , flashing as the car passed them . Closing his eyes for a second to ease his mind . Looking to the left he had a glimpse of a silhouette lying down atop the hill basking in the night sky view , and for the moment he wished he'd be in their place , to be content with just being out in the open fields . The car took a turn snapping him out ah his thoughts looking at his phone buzzing with texts from his friends and family but mostly from his father , rolling his eyes he switched it off throwing it on his Carry-on bag going back to gaze out the window .

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04:48 lying down with a pleased humm after she managed to climb up the hill , passing by the tall unkempt grass on the edge of the park right behind the line of trees framing the bond . The clearing of grass rolled on all around the hill reaching all the way to the old fencing of the highway exit , it's a long walk but the atmosphere is worth the effort , it's quite and calming , the air clear and cool against her face taking in deep breath exhaling it slowly in a relaxed manner .

The lights from the lamp posts on the road blended with the gleaming stars in the distance, the moon is almost full Maybe in two more nights it'll reach it's peak before fading out to nothing .

After a while she glanced at the time , cursing as she lost track letting her mind drift not aware how much time passed , she stood up walking back down the hill heading to a side entrance for a short cut instead of the main gate , waving at the figure sitting on a bench facing the lake as she passed by , speeding up after they waved back at her .

She stepped out moving in a fast pace close to a run crossing the street and going back .

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04: 50 he unlocked his front door taking off his shoes and hanging up his jacket greeted by his cats burring as he held them up scratching behind their ears as they Burred in content relaxing and leaning into his hold , leaving his bag by the living room entrance as he sets them down then watching as they padded away before going straight to take a quick shower , then to bed , falling asleep not a minute later.

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05:02 she climbed back in through the window , discarding her hoodie somewhere around her room , her cap going to the bedside table and her shoes kicked by the door , landing on her bed with a tired huff she tossed her phone on the carpeted floor below the bed turning to face the wall before drifting into a restless sleep .

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08:00 he's already awake , doing a warm up exercises and putting together a meal to start the day . Checking the kitchen to make a list for later , feeding the cats before grabbing his gym bag locking his door and heading out .

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08:10 she woke up after the third snooze alarm blaring out to get her to move off the bed , she was thankful for putting together something to wear the night before . Taking a quick shower, brushing her teeth and her hair before grabbing the day's necessary items putting them in her bag then heading out in a sprint , leaving in a haste she opted to get something to eat on the way .

Her first stop is Angela's shop . Giving the owner a warm greeting along with Marc who started working three weeks ago, taking the two separate bouquet's paying and thanking her again before moving to the next stop .

Turning the corner she pumped into someone, causing her bag and flowers to fall along with the stranger's bag , both apologizing while picking up their things apologizing again before she hastly went on her way .

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He was about to go on his way looking down he found a single flower laying down before him , muttering quietly "it must've fell from her" , turning after picking it up to give it back , he only saw her back getting lost in the crowded street ahead . Looking down at it he decided against throwing it away , he held it gently adjusting the bag on his shoulder Before moving on on his way .

#max verstappen #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #f1 fanfic #f1 au #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #MMA!fighter!max verstappen #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen au #paper hearts

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onsunnyside · 1 year

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aaaaa when mma!curtis gets hurt though!! or if he loses a match :(( extra feral and rough and nasty 🤧 reader is so concerned for him and tries to make to make him feel better, but baby, all u gotta lay there and let him tear u apart

oh he'll absolutely lose it 🫡 although he's pissed off, he's still a daddy who loves to tease:

"—fuckin' stupid ref, he didn't call any of that shit just to screw me over." His rant breaks off into curses as he struggles with his heavily bandaged fingers. Honestly, it was his fault. He couldn't sit still as you tended to his bruised and battered knuckles, now it was all sloppy and unravelling by the moment.

"Don't take it off!"

His heated eyes meet yours in the reflection, water dripping from his buzzed hair to his bearded cheeks. "What was that?"

"D-Don't take 'em off... or it'll hurt." You stutter and roll on the heels of your feet. "I don't want you to ever hurt, especially after those mean guys..." (aka his opponent who broke the rules one too many times and the ref who didn't call any of it, which led to Curtis' loss). You tug on the hem of his sweater, feeling awfully exposed because he didn't let you put on panties after your shared shower ("why would you need them?")

He breaks the tension with a grunt, gesturing you over with a nod, "c'mere, cupcake. Daddy wants to show you something."

You hesitantly obey and squeak as he tugs you closer, propping you on the counter with ease, his arms flexing deliciously. He brings your hand to his tattooed chest, right below his collarbone.

"You know what this is?"

You nod, "Your grandparent's birth year."

"Mhm, and what about this?" He trails down, dragging your fingers to his abs, inches away from his bushy pubic hair.

"Uhm, a d-dagger."

You remember when you saw it for the first time. He was in the middle of training and you walked in, nearly dropping the freshly baked cookies at the sight of him all beefy, sweaty and flushed. Curtis, being ever the observant fella, took you into the locker room and ate you out over your underwear ("Can't have my sweet girl all needy, hm? Gotta give her what she deserves." and he did, making you cream your panties so he could hide them in his bag for later).

He moves your hand to the loose towel around his waist, right over the growing bulge. "And this, sweet baby?"

You gulp, squirming as he makes you rub over his clothed cock. You can feel him growing harder, throbbing hotly under your palm.

"...it's your thing, daddy."

He tsks, shaking his head, "that's not what it's called."

You were a virgin when you met Curtis. But he didn't mind that you were inexperienced in relationships and sex, he was sweet and slow with you, allowing you to explore his body first to get you comfortable with intimacy. As much as you loved hearing him say filthy things, you were still so shy saying it yourself.

"Do I have to say it?"

"If you wanna taste it." He leans forward, softly kissing your cheek, then the other, and then your nose, dutifully ignoring your pouting lips. "C'mon, cupcake. Say it, and I'll let you keep me warm."

He knows you love that, feeling close and safe. You love holding him in your hand, or in your mouth, or one of your other holes. If you could, you'd keep him all snug every damn day.

"Then, I'll fuck your pretty face. Make you gag on my cock and try to fit my balls in your mouth—you wanna help me feel better after that shitty match, right, baby?"

#mma fighter curtis #brandycranby<3 #wips ask #sonny drabbles #curtis everett #curtis everett smut #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett fanfiction #curtis everett fanfic #curtis everett au #curtis everett drabble #curtis everett x innocent!reader #curtis everett x female reader #curtis everett fic #mma fighter!curtis everett #ufc fighter!curtis everett

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missrosegold · 5 months

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Okay okay okay so I know I tentatively put out the idea of MMA fighter!Dabi/Touya, BUT -- what about Cyberpunk!Dabi??

Think about it: the LOV is still a terrorist organization, but with cybernetic enhancements - most of them are damn near on the verge of going Cyberpsycho as it is with how much chrome they're packing.

Their fire fights with the NCPD/Militech and Arasaka are legendary and brutal; no one leaves unscathed, and even the rest of the gangs that terrorize Night City give them a wide birth - least they get pulled into a turf war with them.

Poor little you is just trying to get home after a particularly long day at your job (your hours are shit and the pay is arguably worse), and you find yourself running for cover as a gang fight breaks out between the LOV and Maelstrom.

One thing leads to another, and suddenly you find yourself looking up at a white haired man - more chrome then flesh - learing down at you with a grin so terrifying, you almost think he's gone full psycho, had hd not made any move to snap your neck.

Giving him a quick scan, you can see that he has a cybernetic arm that spits out blue hell fire, and mechanically enhanced eyes so insanely blue it's a new shade to you completely, amoung a plethora of other enhancements that make you question how he isn't a fully fledged Cyberpsycho.

You know who he is, everybody in Night City knows of the white haired pyromaniac with specialty fire resistant implants, and of how dangerous he is.

It's Dabi from the LOV. You're in trouble now.

#dabi #touya todoroki #dabi x reader #dabi x you #touya x reader #sighs dramatically #guess i'm adding this one to my wip's too #i have so many other things to work on but this idea was too fun not to share!#i still wanna do a little story for mma fighter!dabi #but i love cyberpunk and i wanted to get this idea off my chest too!#dunno if it'll ever become a full story but i definitely want to come back and revisit this idea soon #rose rambles #cyberpunk!au

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loserdiaz · 7 months

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resisting the urge to write "take everything off, babe" and make them fuck nasty right there and then

#april rambles #fic: in the heat of your electric touch #MMA fighter eddid ans sports therapist buck au #my writing #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #buck x eddie #buddie fic

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karizard-ao3 · 7 months

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Eremika who haven’t seen each other in a few years meet again at uni or college. Mikasa remembers scrawny, angry, obsessive short-haired Eren. When they meet again she finds tall, super buff, manbun Eren who’s absolutely dtf at first sight

I don't know why, but for some reason my first thought was that they should meet doing MMA at their college club. I'm thinking they met doing karate as kids. Eren's mom put him in there hoping he'd learn self control and Mikasa was put in it so she could meet other kids. Armin goes, too, but mostly because Eren does it. Mikasa was homeschooled so they hadn't met her at school, but they become buddies. Mikasa moved up through the ranks much faster than Eren was able too, which of course pissed him off and he was always pestering her to spar with him. Eventually Mikasa gets her black belt and switches to studying a different martial arts discipline and, without their classes or matches to keep them in contact, they drift immediately apart.

You know how sometimes homeschooled kids start college early? (My cousins all did.) That's what Mikasa does. So she's already in her third year when Eren starts as a freshman. She helped found their school's MMA club with another student named Annie Leonhart, and the two girls are brutal taskmasters. This club is known for turning out top notch fighters. Eren has gone up against a few at MMA competitions (he's also moved on from karate) and they are very worthy opponents. He's thrilled to be joining the club himself.

Imagine his shock when he arrives and discovers that the hot upperclassman who is churning out all these skilled fighters is none other than his former karate rival (in his mind, at least), Mikasa Ackerman. (She's shy and doesn't like having her name or picture on the club's website etc, plus she's competing on a different level than Eren so they haven't run into each other.)

He is shocked, but not too shocked to do the Eren thing and immediately challenge her to spar. She accepts, but she's nervous because he's gotten really hot since they were kids and she thinks he smells really good. As soon as they're up close and personal, Eren starts freaking out, too, because he's grappling with this gorgeous girl right in front of everyone and he's definitely getting a boner, and she can definitely feel it. The sexual chemistry between them is insane. Everyone who's watching them is starting to feel uncomfortable.

Mikasa is so flustered that she gets swoony and decides to just let Eren win, then lays there on the mat for a moment, blushing and feeling very emotionally frail. Eren hustles off to the bathroom to wait out (or maybe take care of) his boner.

When club wraps up he approaches her to apologize if he made her uncomfortable, she tells him it's okay, then she makes a comment about letting him win this time and next time he won't beat her so easily. He, being Eren, bristles and is like, "oh yeah? Put your money where your mouth is!" and challenges her again. She accepts and this time she's ready for the intensity and she does beat him pretty handily, despite the sexual chemistry getting her all hot and bothered. While she's got him in a hold or whatever and her face is right next to his, he can't resist kissing her. She kisses him back, one thing leads to another, and they are doing a very different kind of grappling on the club room floor. 🫣

#ask me things #my asks #answered asks #eremika #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #mma fighters au #eremika au headcanons #they wrestle around a bit #they find it quite titillating

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eyeheartboobiez · 2 years

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𝗺𝗺𝗮 𝗳𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗲𝗿!𝗷𝗮𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗼𝗱𝗱 𝗵𝗰𝘀

𝘁𝘄: 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱

• regardless of how old he was, jason always found himself fighting for his life. whether it be on the streets as a kid or in the ring as an adult, he was always beating the shit outta someone

• when bruce first met him, he found the boy in a back alleyway fighting off several other boys much older than him and winning

• upon hearing that jason was practically orphaned, bruce took him in as his own and introduced him to an entirely new world of fighting (one that wouldn’t leave him with a future assault charge)

• from then on, bruce trained jason at his world famous Brawl, Attack, & Triumph Federation aka the B.A.T. Federation you see what i did there?

• as jason got older he went on to become one of the biggest mma fighters in the industry

• known for his ruthlessness and brutality in the ring, jason went on to adopt the name “red hood” because he always left his opponents faces covered in a red carnage

• majority of people knew better than to cross paths with the brute of a man

• fortunately, you didn’t fit into that majority

• he was at a bar with some friends and family currently celebrating his victory for the night. the win was so easy that jason had left the arena with only a few bruises and a cut on his left brow

• because he wasn’t much of a party person, the red hood found himself sitting alone at the bar nursing a cold beer

•he was just about to say goodbye to everybody and head home until you showed up

the cut on his brow line was starting to bleed again.

jason took his throbbing eyebrow as a sign that it was time to turn it for the night. searching the bar for his brother dick, who was doing extremely well in his own profession as a wrestler, he found the man talking for a group of fans who had recognized from tv.

before he could reach him, however, jason noticed the beautiful woman that was quickly approaching him.

“sorry to bother you but could you pretend to be my boyfriend real quick?” you hurriedly rushed out.

“wha-”

“trust me, i know how it sounds. it’s just that this creep keeps harassing me and i need to get him off my ass. please?” you turned to look over your to see the man in question who had been bothering you all night.

leaning up against jason, you put on the fakest smile you could muster. “see? told you. now you fuck off ‘cause i wasn’t joking when i said my boyfriend will beat the shit out of you.”

not wanting to cross any boundaries with you, jason simply placed his arm on the small of your back and protectively stepped closer to you.

“come on baby, anyone with eyes can see that you don’t even know this guy. i bet this jackass wouldn’t even know what to do with all that.” the harasser’s hand reached for your ass as the sly comment left his lips.

before he could even touch you, however, jason swiftly grabbed the stranger’s hand and twisted it into an uncomfortable position, making him cry out in pain. jason then violently grabbed the man’s collar and slammed him right against the bar.

“didn’t she tell you to fuck off already? you’d think that anyone will common sense would know better than to hit on someone next to their boyfriend.”

“listen man i-”

“shut up!” jason slammed him into the bar once more. “i don’t wanna hear another word come outta your mouth unless it’s an apology to my girl.”

hearing the handsome brute call you “his girl” sent shivers throughout your body, but you knew it wasn’t the time or place for any of that. you straightened your posture and crossed your arms in an attempt to compose yourself. “well?”

voice laced with attitude, the stranger reluctantly apologized to you, “sorry.”

the man was then roughly pushed away from the two of you, muttering curses under his breath as he walked off.

you let out a wavering breath. closing your eyes, you suddenly realized how bad everything could have gone if you were left to deal with him alone. jason’s eyes landed on you and his demeanor instantly softened. reaching for your forearm, he asked, “you okay?”

your eyes snapped open and met his. “yeah, yeah i’m good. jus’ tired of dealing with shit like this all the time.” your body relaxed and you placed your hand on his. “thanks by the way.”

“yeah, no problem. i’m just glad you weren’t some fan who recognized me.”

“recognize you? what, are you a celebrity or something?” the both of you physically relaxed as you naturally fell into conversation. the two of you casually leaned up against the bar counter and bounced questions off each other.

“no, just a fighter.”

“ohhh so you’re one of those.”

a chuckle left the red hood’s lips at your accusatory remark. “what do you mean, sweetheart?”

again, the endearing term sent shivers down your spine and you could've sworn you felt a second heartbeat. you promised yourself then and there that you’d have to meet this man again.

“you know, one of those tough, hardasses that genuinely enjoy getting beat up every week.”

“tough, yeah, but i dunno about hardass.” jason felt himself getting high just off your presence alone. the enticing feeling of wanting to know anything and everything about you overcame him.

“what’s your name anyways?”

“(y/n). you?”

“jason.”

• from then on things between the two of you just clicked instantly. you both quickly went from exchanging names to trading numbers

• you and jason like to joke how that night was your “fate date” because it felt like you both were destined to meet each other

• in all honesty, jason was scared that you’d be put off by his fighting lifestyle but it was the exact opposite

• jason’s mma career was a big part of your relationship because of how much you involved yourself

• from going on morning jogs with him to tagging along to his training sessions, you always made it clear how much you supported his achievements

• during his matches fans would always love you see you sitting in the sidelines cheering him on

• before he steps in the ring he always wants good luck kisses from you

• cut to people on tiktok making edits from clips of your relationship online

• and people on twitter retweeting pictures of you two and being like “when is it my turn bruh😭”

• speaking of the internet, half of jason’s social media consists of fighting reels and the other half is just dedicated to you

• it ranges from photos he took while you weren’t looking of you to whole essays as to why he appreciates everything about you

• anyways, after jason’s fights you always reward him with a kiss regardless if he wins or loses (although majority of the time he’s winning)

• during the press conferences after his matches you’re always found right by his side

• whether it be holding your hand or having you pressed into his side, jason finds comfort in being close to you after a fight because it calms his adrenaline

• one day you were both at a press meeting and a reporter decided to make a comment on your presence in jason’s life

cameras flashed all around as jason had his arm hung over the back of your chair. he had just won a match against roman sionis, popularly known in the ring as black mask, and the both of you were currently at a press debriefing to discuss his victory.

a reporter called out from the crowd, grabbing the mma champion's attention. “jason! we all know what a beast of a fighter you are, but how much of a strain does your career put on your relationship?”

“it doesn’t.” all eyes were on him as he spoke, “yeah, no (y/n) is beyond supportive of my career just like i am of hers and i genuinely can’t see myself being as good of a fighter i am today without her. as long as we’ve been together, i can honestly say that this is the woman i’d let ruin my life and i'm not just saying that because roman punched the shit outta me.” laughs erupted through the room at his faint joke.

“anyways i can tell you right now that imma have to wife her up soon.”

you playfully rolled your eyes, fighting off a smile at his playful comment.

turning his attention towards you, your bashfulness made a bright grin bloom on the fighter’s face. “i don’t know why you’re rolling your eyes pretty thing, it’s true.”

• it was in fact true and jason would end up proposing to you just a few months later (of course you said yes)

• after his press conferences, you and jason would go home together and spend your time doing more enjoyable things queue victory sex

#ﾉ彡☆ [read all about it] — my writing #i listened to a lot of pinkpantheress while writing this lmao #this is such a mess but i swear i was going somewhere with this #dc #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #red hood #red hood x reader #jason todd headcanon #jason todd hcs #fighter!au #mma fighter!au #fanfiction

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cafe1738 · 1 month

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MMA fighter JD au

have more ideas for this au: like literally writing a whole fanfic about it, got a reference home, and what type of coffee shop it's going to be.

Actually want to change some ages, but Im still not too sure.

The home area is kind of where I used to live, which was east LA, so will be using that environment but a little bit more up, like El Serrano, cause JD was able to move them a bit up with the money that he got from fighting. He used the money mainly to move from they're previous home and for his brother's schooling.

They have a car, but it's just a simple sedan, nothing too crazy.

I am working too much into this au when I should be doing my homework lol.

#mma fighter au #jd trolls #trolls #trolls band together #trolls au #dreamworks trolls

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skulljackxiii · 1 year

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DRSS: Eva-Ultimate MMA Fighter

Support me over at Patreon: www.patreon.com/skulljackxiii

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Eva Ultimate Talent: MMA Fighter -The merciless and ruthless force that she rains down obliterates everything in its path, sends shivers to every opponent that enters her ring; thus earning the name "Deva of Destruction". Her path started when was 9 after announcing to her family (of all boys) that she wanted to do MMA as her "field". She comes from a long line of athletes who were champions of different categories and are recognized by the sports community all over the world, even her younger brothers are title holders of different cities.

After hearing her statement, her father and everyone of her brothers gave all their attention and support for her to be the best fighter out there, she continued a rigorous training regimen until she was 14 to make her debut. Thanks to her family's history, she was allowed to enter and become the youngest fighter in UFC history.

Ever since her debut fight, she's shown the world of how much of a vicious and blood-thirsty fighter she is as she utilizes very little defense and only going for the attack. Using her overwhelming strikes and suffocating grappling, after every match all of her opponents would be in a severe catatonic state where they wouldn't wake up for days, there were occasions where they would even enter a coma and to only wake up months later. The casualty rate was so severe that after becoming the champion of all six weight classes, she was forever banned from the Women's division and was only allowed to enter the Men's. Currently as it stands, she earned the champion title of five weight classes (Flyweight, Bantaweight, Featherweight, Lightweight, and Welterweight).

#au #eva #Total Drama Island #total drama #total drama eva #tdi #dr #danganronpa #danganronpa fanart #mma fighter #mma #fighter

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ohnococo · 3 months

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Fight Night | CHAPTER 5 | MMA Fighter!Sukuna x Reader

While you’d come to tolerate the risk of being ass out and full of cum in the dark of a nightclub while out of your mind on drugs, you weren’t willing to accept the same in a cute little lunch spot in the middle of town.

Sukuna invites you out for lunch.

Warnings: Vaginal sex, public sex, squirting, manhandling, car sex

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

You’re hesitant to set expectations with Sukuna, not just yet. It feels like it’s too hard to get a read on him, and it’s hard not to think a man like him could take advantage if he really felt like it. Even though he’s made it clear that you’ll keep seeing him for now, and that he enjoys your company in some capacity, he’s still the man that fucked you raw and disappeared completely from your life in the days between doing it all over again. Then disappeared for two months on top of it.

It doesn’t help that he clearly has his whims catered to often by those around him. With that in mind, you can’t help feeling like you needed to figure out if you were just one of those whims, or if it was more. Otherwise you couldn’t even entertain the feelings you spent far too much time trying to minimise. But, as you remind yourself again, he said in no uncertain terms that he would be keeping you around, so you treat it like a kind of fresh start.

A fresh start where he was already setting a less than ideal “first” impression. You hadn’t stuck around long at his house the last time you saw him, leaving before dinner because you had just shifted plans with your friends back a little rather than bailing completely. He’d left you with a parting gift, another orgasm while you pushed aside the worry in the back of your mind about how near your Uber was to picking you up, but he’d sent you out just in time nonetheless. Then, nothing.

No text, no call, nothing at all for the rest of the week. You didn’t want it to bother you, you didn’t want to be clingy, but there was a clear pattern here that wasn’t shifting along with whatever was happening between you two.

But then Sunday finally comes and so does a text from Sukuna, now named properly in your phone. It has those inconvenient butterflies stirring up again in your stomach, and it has you pushing your worries aside as you read his message and remind yourself hey, blank slate, right?

Then you read the text again, smiling to yourself.

have you had lunch?

It’s still not a proper greeting, but it somehow felt a little warmer than his usual opening. Warm enough to try pushing him to be a little more clear with you.

why, you gonna take me out?

When he texts back right away yet again it has you on the verge of swaying side to side and giggling like a schoolgirl before you snap out of it and remind yourself that this was really the bare minimum.

wouldn’t be the first time

Technically he’s right, but this is different. For you at least, and the small pit in your stomach as your emotions teeter back towards anxiety starts to remind you why putting yourself out there can be such a nuisance. It all seems so much easier for him though, so you push that aside and try to make it easy for you too.

yeah but this time it sounds like you’re asking me on a date

You see that he’s typing, then stops, and you’re left staring at your screen for what felt like an eternity. You read your message back and find yourself wishing you’d been able to say it in real life to get your tone across. It was joking, lighthearted, except it wasn’t entirely… but in plain text it looked a little more cold than you really wanted it to be.

well?

Well? Well? You know it hadn’t taken him that long just to type one word, but you decide to just get out of your head, and get out of your house, texting back your agreement to this lunch date. As usual, he’s already got a place in mind, sending you the name and address. Then,

i’m guessing you’ll be more comfortable in something casual here

The heads up is appreciated, though you’re annoyed that he’s obviously picked up on how awkward you’d felt being so overdressed during your last encounter. You still take his advice though, opting for jeans and a fairly simple top, flat shoes too. When you give yourself a final once over in the mirror, makeup simpler, accessories in place, you feel like he might not recognize you. But you feel like yourself, and that’s good enough to send you to your meeting place feeling more clear-headed than last time.

It helps that you actually know what your plans are, of course.

As you walk into the modern little cafe, Sukuna is easily spotted amongst the tables, and it occurs to you that with his size and appearance he’s incapable of being truly casual. How he’d looked last time was the closest he likely got, but here he’s closer to his clubbing attire than that. Nice pants, leather belt, button up shirt that had to be custom made to fit a body like his. It is toned down though, no flashy sheen to his shirt, no chain, not even one of his giant watches that probably cost more than a month’s rent.

You catch his attention as quickly as he’d caught yours, and he’s eyeing you up before you even reach your seat. The inevitable remark on your appearance is ready by the time you’re sitting down across from him at the little metal table and sliding your purse onto the floor.

“Who’s this cute little girl next door?”

He seems intent on earning an eye roll from you first thing every time, so you oblige as you lean back into your seat, not letting his tone go unnoticed by him slipping ‘cute’ in there. “I’m not always dressed like a party girl. Shocking, I know.”

He cocks a brow and you can see from his smile that something wicked is on the tip of his tongue, so you stop him there.

“Behave.”

Sukuna is a bit taken aback at that, but pleased as well as he chuckles, “You look good.”

You smile, feeling a warmth in your chest that he seemed compliant.

“Especially those thighs.”

And you’re back to rolling your eyes. You let out a dismissive sigh, picking up the menu in front of you, deciding you were done humouring him. Even if you have to purse your lips to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth because, well, it was still a compliment.

He’s silent, until you look up at him over your menu and see him watching you carefully, smiling as if he knew very well that his words had blood rushing to your face. You are actually hungry though, so you redirect the course of the conversation.

“Anyway.”

His brows raise in an apparent acceptance of your shift in tone, and he sits back and sips the water he’d already had waiting at the table. “The salmon is nice here.”

“Like nice nice, or extra protein for your muscles nice.”

“Well cooked, well seasoned. The muscles will take a little more than a meal to build, though.” His review is playfully pointed, and you nod, considering the options before you.

As you make your choice, asking Sukuna for his feedback on a few things since he seemed familiar with the place, you don’t even notice how easy things seem for a moment. It isn’t until you’ve both ordered, and wait with your drinks that you realise how relaxed things feel between you two out in public, surrounded by people having as quiet an afternoon as the two of you were. There’s a different energy present, one that makes you feel like it might be okay to consider that there’s something there from both sides of the table.

It makes it hard for you to keep from smiling at seemingly nothing as Sukuna is telling you about his morning, which had started much earlier than yours. Talking about runs, about flinging heavy ropes, about flinging heavy men until they asked him to go a little easier on them because it was just training. You could see that it was more than that for him, though. It’s incredible how he can seem less intimidating when talking about these things. He was honing his body to hurt people after all, but it was clearly something he truly loved. He almost seemed boyish as he talked about it. Maybe even cute.

His hand is next to yours on the table, with his index finger resting on one of your knuckles. It’s an odd form of affection, but it has you trying your very best to keep your attention on him and not the small touch once it connects. When he starts tracing a small line up and across your fingers you jump in to contribute to the conversation, forcing yourself to focus.

“You’re not that scary for practising submissions too, right?”

His brows move up then down again, almost a twitch it’s so fast, but you can tell he’s surprised you seemed to know anything about what this part of his life might entail. “I don’t hold back, there’s no point in that.”

“So you’re just out here trying to break legs on the daily?” You let out an exaggerated puff of air, shaking your head. “You couldn’t pay me to train with you.”

He leans forward, extending his arm forward to slide his finger up your hand and along your arm as he does. The table is small enough, or rather Sukuna is big enough, that he can rest his arm parallel to yours as he traces his fingers idly near your elbow.

“It’s a good thing you aren’t aiming to get in any fights then. You don’t have a face meant for hurting anyway.”

You want to ask what kind of face you do have, in his opinion, but your waiter is approaching with food in hand so you sit back in your seat to give him the space to set your plates down.

Sukuna’s appetite is as big when he’s sober as it was when he wasn’t, and you find yourself surprised he was finished eating just when you were, despite ordering several extra sides of steamed veg. It feels familiar in a nice way though, the comfortable silence as he eats, and you waiting for whatever comes next.

It turns out, it’s more talking, something you’re coming to enjoy more and more with him. This time, you’re recounting your stressful week at work, plates long cleared, another glass of water being dropped off at your table.

“I just can’t fucking stand him, he’s so sneaky. He’ll never respond to emails either, he’s always running to your desk so you never get any of his bullshit in writing.”

Sukuna’s lip curls lightly, and he speaks like you two were even remotely on the same level financially, “Don’t put up with that.”

“He’s the department head’s little brown noser, no one can say anything about him.”

He half shrugs, “Then go somewhere else. You don’t need them.”

“I can’t just go somewhere else, you don’t go and get a job just like that.”

“You can.”

He says it like it’s an indisputable fact, like a shitty office job was remotely the same as being able to beat people up so well that you were any old company’s darling moneymaker. It should annoy you more, but your brain is more focused on how confident he had been that you could do better. Despite his being slightly out of touch, you can’t help feeling flattered that he seems to think highly of you.

Your discussion is stopped for now though as the waiter comes over to drop off your bill. He sets it down in the middle of the two of you before heading off to whisk away another table’s empty glasses. Sukuna is quick to reach for it, but when you put a hand on top of the corner of it, pinning it to the table, he frowns at you.

“I want to pay.”

He scoffs, pushing your hand away easily and reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. “No.”

It’s said with a sense of finality and a curled lip that imply there was no point in even thinking of questioning it, but something about today leaves you unshaken.

“Yes.”

He looks at you, amused, but clearly still discounting your persistence. Then, with a sternness so fierce you remember how often he must go unquestioned, he repeats, “No.”

You sit back, crossing your arms, drawing your lips into a pout. He’s unmoved, continuing to open his wallet and pull out a card, eyes on you all the while.

“Sukuna, how many meals have you bought me?” The drinks, the drugs, the entrance fees, those all go unmentioned.

His hand lifts, signalling the waiter nonetheless, but when he looks back at you that amused chuckle rings out and you wonder if you’ve somehow won him over.

Apparently you have, sort of, as he sighs and gives you his compromise, “You can pay next time.”

It shouldn’t feel like such a victory, but it does, and you’re practically bouncing in your seat as you sit up a little straighter and smile. “That’s what I thought.”

Your lighthearted antagonism amuses him further and he shakes his head at you. And you decide to retreat with your half-win. “Anyway, where’s the bathroom? I’ve gotta pee.”

Sukuna points to a little hall at the back of the cafe, and you pull your purse onto your shoulder as you give him a nod of thanks as the waiter approaches and he begins settling your check.

The bathroom is as stylish as the rest of the place, a single enclosed room with glossy dark green subway tiles and gold fixtures. As you shut and lock the door behind you, you take the opportunity of a little privacy to let out a long breath. It was going well, really really well. Another deep breath, another unstoppable smile, and you handle your business quickly.

As you wash and dry your hands, you look at yourself in the mirror. You feel present, hopeful even. Like something good was happening, instead of just something uncertain. Sukuna had taken you out. Not just somewhere to fuck, out on an actual date. You were actually getting to know each other on a level that felt more intimate, despite it being surface level in comparison to some of the things you’d done together. Still, it felt like progress.

You open the door, and gasp when you see Sukuna standing right there, massive frame blocking out the much brighter lighting of the cafe behind him.

“Jesus, don’t hover outside like that. It’s creepy.”

He doesn’t appear to have even heard your light scolding, large hands coming forward to grip your hips, pushing you back into the privacy of the bathroom as he reaches back to close the door behind him. Instead he’s focused on bringing his mouth to yours, kissing you roughly, hands already sliding behind you to grab at your ass. He squeezes hard enough to have you letting out a small squeak into his mouth before one of his hands is sliding up your back to hold the back of your neck, letting you recline into his grasp as his tongue explores your mouth.

His cock is already hard when he presses his hips against you, and you pull back to speak right when he does the same, but he’s quicker, and it leaves your mind racing until you’ve forgotten what you were even going to say.

“You can’t talk to me like that and expect to not get fucked.”

It was your usual playful banter, but apparently it had done something for him. Enough to have him kissing you until you’re both out of breath, both needy for each other. He pulls back again, tongue reaching out to lick at your open mouth before he’s turning you around and bending you over the sink, trying to keep his eyes on yours in your reflection as he paws at your jeans for access.

You know he’s not exerting himself, not really, but he’s still panting as he finally undoes your pants and roughly tugs them down your hips. “Your thighs really do look amazing in these, but they’re fucking inconvenient.”

Your hands are quick to help, starting to worry he might actually rip them if you don’t, and while you’d come to tolerate the risk of being ass out and full of cum in the dark of a nightclub while out of your mind on drugs, you weren’t willing to accept the same in a cute little lunch spot in the middle of town.

He’s impatient once they’re over your ass, shoving them only a few more inches down, then tugging your panties down to meet them as well. He pushes the middle of your back downward, making you arch so he can access your pussy more easily, and he’s foregoing foreplay in favour of sliding inside of you as quickly as possible. Luckily for you, the clatter of his belt being undone has your body responding almost as much as his kisses and firm hands had moments before, and when you feel his thick fingers fanned across your thighs and ass, spreading you, you hold your breath in wait of that familiar feel of his fat tip pushing at your entrance.

When he has just the head anchored inside of you, your eyes shut, letting a long slow breath out as your walls stretch to accommodate him so suddenly. When the sting is a little too much, you open your eyes and find he’s watching your face intently, catching a wince of discomfort in your expression before he’s spitting down and onto where your pussy was gripping him tightly. He pumps in and out, shallow thrusts spreading the saliva around until he’s spitting again, giving you a little more relief as he slowly shoves his way in deeper.

As you squeeze and rock back into him he leans over you, bracing his hands just above where yours were positioned on the sink. He practically purrs into your ear with his deep groans, kissing along your neck, biting at your clothed shoulder, and rutting into you like he might not fit this time.

“You’re so tight like this, can you even take it all?”

He knows you can, but his words leave you dizzy as you arch your back more and stick out your ass for him to be able to slide deeper, until he’s buried to the hilt. Then he’s sucking air in through his teeth as he reckons with the tight squeeze of the position even as he’s thrusting at a steadily quickening pace. It’s not long before he’s fucking you properly, your breasts bouncing with the force of his snapping hips, head lulling forward, knuckles white from clinging to the porcelain sink for balance. His hand wraps around you, arm keeping you up as he grabs your jaw and forces you to keep your face up and looking into the mirror.

“Don’t hide from me.”

Your eyes roll back, heat building in your stomach as his cock churns at your insides.

“I need to see your face.”

You bite your lip, trying your hardest to stay quiet, even though all you wanted to be doing was whining his name while the underside of his cock, and those thick metal piercings, put a blinding pressure on the spot that had your toes curling in your shoes.

It feels strange, like your pussy is trembling uncontrollably though your orgasm hasn’t quite come yet, like the pressure inside of you is more present than it ever has been before. When you start to fold in on yourself, arching your hips forward as you move your hands onto either side of the mirror in front of you, he’s forced to only give you shallow thrusts and his tip is angled to press against your sweet spot in a way that has you panicking, realising exactly what’s going to happen.

“Sukuna stop!”

“Stop? When you’re gripping me like this?” He’s still thrusting, like he’s unable to control himself as he outright laughs at your frantic request.

“I’m gonna squirt, stop!”

His laugh is wicked, and far too loud for where you were, “Saying that isn’t going to stop me.” He means it, forcing his hand between your tightly clenched legs, finger shoving its way between your pussy lips to rub at your clit roughly.

There’s genuine fear in your eyes as it only pushes you closer, and you pull at his arm, pleading. “Please, stop. We can’t hide it, please!”

You’re half frightened that your pleas will fall on deaf ears with the way Sukuna was already worked up into a frenzy, but he takes in your face and stops. He doesn’t say a word, but his gaze is off of you for the first time since he’d slipped inside of you, and he’s pulling out, tucking himself away as you lean over the sink, head hanging as you catch your breath while your whole pussy feels like it’s throbbing.

Then, he’s roughly tugging your pants up, and you’re forced to quickly zip and button them with trembling hands as he unlocks the door, grabbing your bag in one hand, your arm in the other, and pulling you through the restaurant. It’s a little embarrassing, the way he was handling you in front of all these people, but you also know looking like you’d pissed yourself from squirting down and onto your light blue jeans would have absolutely been worse.

You can barely keep up with his long strides, though you’re forced to as he doesn’t let go, heading into a parking garage next to the block the cafe was on. You have to actually catch your breath when he stops in front of the elevator, pressing the button impatiently as you’re now grateful for his firm grip keeping you standing. With the suddenness of his movements, and the budding orgasm that you’d halted earlier, your legs are weak.

When the door dings and opens, he finally lets go of you after pulling you inside, roughly jabbing at the button for the 4th floor, then the close door button. You lean back against the wall, still trying to get your wits about you, and you swear you can feel the tension rolling off of him as the elevator quickly makes its way up. His jaw is clenched, he’s shifting from side to side, and swallowing thick. You don’t have to ask him to turn around to know he’s still hard.

The smallest wave of relief washes over you as the elevator door opens and you see that there were hardly any cars on this floor of the garage, and you’re not surprised Sukuna had parked somewhere so quiet as he tugs you in the direction of a shiny black Range Rover. You can only imagine the hell that would be raised if someone scratched his car.

Your thoughts are back on him as he’s grabbing you again and pulling you over to his car and unlocking it quickly. He shoves you into the back, cool leather squeaking as your elbows hit the seats, then throws your bag into the front before he’s on top of you in seconds, having not even bothered pulling the door shut.

“You can’t steal that from me.”

He’s pulling at your jeans again, and you’re forced to scramble to undo them again even as you voice your confusion, “what?”

“This cunt was ready to make a mess, for me.” He tugs your jeans and panties down, then over your feet and off, the force pulling off one of your shoes in the process before they’re tossed over and into the front seat. He’s so serious you’d be genuinely frightened if he were talking about anything other than making you cum, unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it aside to join your jeans in the front as he speaks, “Now give it to me.”

His demand is serious, as he frees his still-hard cock again and puts one of your legs over his shoulders, folding you in half as he leans over you and lines himself up.

“Sukuna- ah!” You’re squirming beneath him, cock buried to the hilt inside of you in no time. Still, you try to manage his expectations. “Sukuna I can’t just make that happen.”

“Yes you can.” It’s oddly encouraging, but you can’t dwell on that when he’s pulling your other leg up too, bracing himself on the backs of your thighs as he presses you further into your uncomfortable position.

You understand his thinking perfectly once his long thrusts start leaving just his tip anchored inside of you before he’s pushing back in and you feel that undeniable pressure again as he has you angled just right. He sees it, from the way your eyes roll back, lips forming an ’oh that your lungs don’t let you release. He sees it even more clearly once he’s moving fast and your pussy is gripping him tight even though it’s impossibly slippery.

He moves one hand further into your thigh, still keeping you in place, but able to swipe his thumb at your clit. It’s so intense you can hardly make a sound, though with the door still open and the car rocking with the force of his thrusts it would be undeniable to any passerby what was happening.

It’s like you can feel his cock throbbing even more like this, and when you lock your eyes on his you know he’s nearly as close as you are. He leans further over you. Kissing and biting at your calves as you’re forced even deeper into your position, legs nearly at your ears.

The sounds of your pussy only get louder, and as that pressure builds again you’re ready to let it burst, panting out an urgent cry of his name just as your climax hits. You can’t even think, orgasm ripping through you as you finally find your lungs enough to let out a long whine, voice shaking when the last of the air is being forced out in your prolonged cry.

“Fuck, there you go.” He’s pulling out, swiping his fat tip over the spray of juices while he keeps up his movements on your clit, absolutely soaking both himself and the back seat.

Then you cry out again, thighs shaking, as he slides back into you. His body cages you in as he fucks you hard and fast, ready to finish even as you’re being pushed into overstimulation, but you want it, so you grab onto his ass as he thrusts. He offers you an encouraging groan at this, and when you lean forward as much as you can to bite and suck at his pecs, all you can reach while folded in half, he’s practically roaring out his approval as his stomach tenses and he fills you with his cum, thrusts hard enough to have your legs jumping in his grasp.

He keeps snapping his hips against yours a few times, even though his balls are already emptied inside of your twitching pussy, until you’re squirming and pushing at him. When he pulls out, he leans back, looking at your fucked out hole involuntarily pushing his cum out as you clench with the aftershocks, then at the sweet little droplets covering your thighs and ass.

You aren’t looking at anything at all, eyes shut as you come down from your high. Once he’s sliding his fingers in you, pressing at your walls, pulling more cum out to join what was already on his seats, you finally open your eyes, surveying the damage. There’s plenty of those same droplets all across his abdomen, and as you look around, all over his back seat too.

“Oh my god, your car.”

Sukuna chuckles, eyes now on your fucked out yet worried expression, and he swallows thickly before his fingers leave you and he’s tucking himself away. “It’s leather, it’ll be fine.”

You take his word for it, stretching your legs out as he gets out of the car and pops the trunk open. He returns with a gym bag, pulling out a towel and wiping off his own stomach before tossing it to you.

“Jesus,” you pant, taking the towel and rubbing up and down your soaked thighs, “thank god you’re a gym freak.”

He surprisingly has nothing to say to that, seemingly too content to have gotten his way as he reaches into the front to retrieve his shirt, then your jeans. You guess he’ll have to deal with his ruined pants later as he gets into the driver’s seat, looking back and waiting for you to join him.

During the drive home Sukuna is quiet, and not in a comfortable silence, a tense one. His jaw is clenched, so is his hand on the steering wheel, and every so often his hand tightens on your thigh as he lets out one of his annoyed sighs. It’s leaving an unpleasant taste in your mouth, so you decide it’s best to be direct.

“What’s wrong?”

He glances at you, as if the question came out of nowhere, and you think it’s cute that he seemed unaware of his tells slipping. His jaw relaxes and he moves his hand from your thigh to make a sharp turn before placing it back.

“I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Me squirting?”

He glances at you again, and lets out a half chuckle that seems to slightly dissipate the tension that had been coming off him in waves. “No, the fucking.”

Your mouth is left hanging open at that admission, when he was the one that had come barging into the bathroom, “You didn’t want to fuck?”

“I was trying not to fuck you.”

The ‘why’ of it all is pushed aside for the unavoidable need to poke fun at him just a little “So there is something Ryomen Sukuna can’t do,” the words aren’t out before you’re chuckling at the ridiculousness of it all, “you can’t not fuck me?”

Despite your laughter, your words have his jaw clenching again, hand tightening on both your thigh and the steering wheel as he finally pulls up to your place.

“Okay, okay, then don’t fuck me.”

He parks, turning to look at you with a slight sneer, like you were still daring to mock him.

“I’m serious.”

His eyes narrow, like he suddenly wants no part of it now that it’s presented as you telling him what to do, so you rephrase it.

“Next time we go out somewhere, we aren’t going to fuck. Think of it as a challenge.”

The sneer dissipates, and leaves a mild curiosity in its place as he considers your challenge. Then, he shrugs. “Fine.”

You smile, and so does he, though it’s a much more muted expression. With your confidence slightly bolstered, you decide to make another demand too.

“And text me too.”

“What?”

“Text me.”

“Right now?” He’s genuinely confused by your half-formed demand.

“Always. I mean… whenever. Not just when you want to fuck me.”

He sighs, brows raising as he gives you a tone that tells you he won’t repeat his sentiment again, “I told you I didn’t intend to fuck you.”

“But you did. And you didn’t speak to me all week.”

“You know I have-“

“And!” Your interruption has his eyes narrowing, but he allows you to continue nonetheless, even when you pause for a moment to let your words catch up with your brain.

“I think,” or rather, you hope, “that doesn’t really line up with whatever your intentions are.”

There’s a shift in the air, like Sukuna is considering closing himself off from this, eyes pulling focus as his face goes blank and he’s silent for a long, heavy moment. Then he speaks quietly, and you wonder if he’d meant to speak out loud at all, “You wipe off that makeup and put on a pair of jeans and suddenly you’re even more of a brat than usual.”

Whether he’d intended his words to have a bite or not, they’re effectively toothless to you, not when he wasn’t outright saying he wouldn’t give you a little more attention.

“A cute brat though, right?”

His tight line of a mouth spreads into a begrudging smile, and he leans in, large hand coming up to hold your jaw, and the way he carefully enunciates his words has your heart racing again.

“Yes. A cute. Brat.”

CHAPTER 6

#reminder minors and ageless blogs get blocked #my writing #jjk #sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #mma fighter!sukuna #jjk smut #reader insert #sukuna smut #mma!sukuna #mma!au

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