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ohnococo · 5 months

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Fight Night | MMA Fighter!Sukuna x Reader

“You know why you’re here. You can take it or leave it.” His hand pushes its way higher up between your thighs until his fingers meet your panties, rubbing against your pussy as he squeezes your flesh. His smile at having confirmed you were just as wet as he knew you were is absolutely wicked and your pussy is practically fluttering with the way he looks at you. He dips his head even lower to graze his teeth along your neck, hot breath followed by an even hotter tongue licking a playful path. “You seem like you can take it, though.”

You weren't familiar with Infamous MMA Fighter Ryomen 'The King' Sukuna when he entered the club, but he certainly wants to become familiar with you.

Warnings: public sex, slight exhibitionism, size difference bordering on size kink, Sukuna has a monster hog that's pierced, fingering, creampie, rough sex, reader doesn't realize there's a voyeur present.

Notes: Based off of the AU in this post.

Only an hour and a half into your night and things had already gotten interesting.

You’re among the many heads stretched and straining to see what the hell the commotion was about, or rather who it’s about. The staff cutting back and forth through the crowd had only been noticed by a few. The dozen people walking in at once had garnered a bit more attention. Then, the absolutely massive guy that followed them, moving into the centre of the entourage, gathered even more attention. You don’t even know who he is, but the most annoying guys in your immediate vicinity all seem like they’ve just seen God himself enter the club, shouting to each other about him winning something big, followed by drunken recountings of what was apparently a fight. He’s flanked by a sizeable group of men and if he weren’t fucking huge you’d assume most of the entourage were bodyguards from the way they part the crowd to allow him through unhindered. With the way people nearest to them were pointing and smiling he was apparently recognizable to enough people here. You weren’t among those people, but your interest was piqued nonetheless.

You can hardly see him at this distance, but you reckon he must be over 6’5” with the way he’s head and shoulders above everyone. You can’t quite discern his features but he looks like he’s scanning the crowd, only pausing for a moment to lean down before he makes his way to his own area, accompanied by his own small crowd. The glass balustrades allow you to watch him as he goes past the bouncer unquestioned and up the stairs to the VIP section. Even when he’s out of view the feel of the room has shifted entirely, mark effectively left on the place.

Your eyes had been so intent on him you hadn’t noticed the person who’d broken off from his entourage until they’re in front of you and waving a hand at you before leaning in to shout and be heard over the music.

“Do you party?”

What the fuck did they think you were doing? Dress held onto your body by a hope and a prayer, eyes glassy, pupils blown, and this stranger was being coy? Maybe you would be too.

“Maybe. Who’s asking?” They were too young for you, having that awkward ‘are they 19 or 30’ appearance. They were too small too, but you’d seen them trailing along behind the big guy with their fuck ass bob and knew exactly who it really was asking from the way they were looking at you like another errand.

They point up to the balcony, speaking with a reverence coated in the assumption that you’d be impressed, “The King.”

“Who?”

“You’re joking?” They look offended, like they might rescind the offer that hadn’t yet been made, but you knew it wasn’t their choice to come over here, it was this King’s.

You shrug. “I don’t watch boxing.”

“He’s not a boxer.” They spit out the word, boxer, like it had been an insult. “He’s the reigning heavyweight champion of JFC.”

Your laugh at the name has them dumbfounded, explaining even though you couldn’t look more unphased by his apparent celebrity.

“Jujutsu Fighting Championship?” They say it like it explains everything. Like it meant anything more than anyone else’s accolade’s in terms of you having a good night.

“Does this King have a real name? Or just a pretend one?”

“Ryomen Sukuna, and he’d like to invite you up to the VIP lounge. Do you want to go or not?”

You did. You knew you didn’t get up there without spending an exorbitant amount on bottle service, and having the additional funds to beat out anyone else looking to enjoy its amenities. Besides, you knew you weren’t going to turn down free drinks and maybe a story for tomorrow. So you put on a coy smile, indicating that you’d play nice for the opportunity.

“Sure.”

The way they take off, cutting through the crowd at a brisk pace, keeps you on your toes as you try to follow along, pushing against people as you do - some dancing, some looking up at the balcony above and hoping for another peek at the man you were just about to meet.

Once you’re in front of the bouncer at the bottom of the stairs, your temporary escort is annoyed at having to give their name, huffing out a curt “Uraume.” as the man slowly looks through his clipboard, stepping aside once satisfied.

You’re just as quick to keep up when going up the stairs too, trying to look casual as you finally enter the VIP lounge, scanning the room as though your attention wouldn’t automatically be brought to the giant man seated near the wall. Uraume gives a nod to the man, and you’re surprised to see he returns it with a friendly smile, though any trace of warmth is soon gone as they then settle into a corner and The King turns his attention to you as you approach.

Looking at him up close it’s obvious he’s a fighter, you don’t know how you hadn’t immediately guessed it even from seeing him across the club even before people around you started mentioning fights and belts and such. Besides him being built, he has dyed hair that’s a faded colour usually seen among those showy men you meet around Vegas, uniquely employed enough to opt for bolder styles yet dedicated enough to training to let it fade ever so slightly. Nevermind the prominent tattoos on his face, neck, and disappearing down beneath his shirt. Eccentric appearance and fucking huge typically meant one thing around here: fighter. Or wannabe fighter, usually, but with the handles of liquor and nervous energy of the staff that had been rushing around since he’d arrived you knew for sure he wasn’t just some wannabe. From the look of his entourage he might not be just a fighter either.

Well, at least he was handsome.

The only seat available is right next to the man himself. He’s cross legged with his arm draped over the back of the leather couch - over the space you were presumably going to be sitting in. You imagine him instructing his goons to leave it free and feel slightly flattered, not too flattered though as you’re sure it’s a regular occurrence given his apparent popularity.

“Aw, no one wanted to sit next to you?” You give him a teasing pout and he laughs, loud and booming and rich, and you feel everyone around you relax collectively. He liked you up close too, and the feeling was mutual as he pats his lap.

“You can sit here if you prefer.”

Cheeky, you want to get a feel for him first though, so you sit next to him instead. “Buy me a drink first.”

He gestures to the table in front of you, littered with bottles. You look over them, considering your choice carefully. When he puts a hand on your upper thigh and leans into you, brushing his nose against your neck and bypassing any pretence of what he’d invited you up here for, you decide your tastes are a little more expensive. At least when it comes to playing with him.

“No Dom Perignon?”

The way his hand squeezes your thigh has you wondering if he was mad that you were taking advantage. The hungry look he flashes when he leans back to look you up and down lets you know he didn’t care as long as you both got something out of tonight. He glances over to a man who had been standing in wait for his every word, and he skitters off to make it happen.

You feign having only a passing interest in him while you wait, looking at him with brows raised, appraising him as he must have done to you when he’d entered the club. “So you’re supposed to be famous, right?”

Famous, you say it with a slight dry singsong that indicates as dazzling of an occurrence as meeting a celebrity might be, you weren’t quite so dazzled. He raises a brow in amusement, still rubbing at your thigh in a heavy reminder that you both knew why he’d called you up.

“Not famous enough, apparently.” He doesn’t seem nearly as perturbed by your ignorance of him as his small companion had. In fact, it doesn’t seem to phase him at all.

“So are you good at fighting?”

He makes no attempt to stop his cocky grin, and a predatory look flashes in his eyes as he seems to reflect on his own skill. “Yes.”

The staff sent off earlier returns with a bottle and glass, making a show of presenting it to you before opening it. As he does, Ryomen puts a finger on your chin, turning your attention back to him.

“I fought tonight, actually.”

“Oh?” As soon as his hand is off your face and back on your thigh, you turn back to the man pouring your drink, reaching out to accept the glass before he rests the bottle in a bucket of ice and returns to his spot near enough to be at Sukuna’s call.

“I put a man in the hospital.”

You sit back, taking a sip of the champagne as he puts his heavy arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer into him. You take in his expression carefully. Wasn’t that the point of fighting? You deduce that maybe he’d gone a bit further than was typical from the way he looks at you though. There was a sense of pride in the way he’d said it, a sense of satisfaction, even as the smallest flash of his narrowing eyes hinted at it being a warning.

“Does that scare you?” He looks as though he might just love it if the answer were yes.

You cross one leg over the other, trapping his large hand between your thighs, as you finish your drink in one long sip. Maybe it was a waste, but it wasn’t your money. “Should it?”

He dips his head low until your faces are close, and the size difference is enough that it’s as if he’s closing you off from the room as he does it, giving you a false sense of privacy as his lips meet yours. You’re surprised at the pacing of his kiss. It’s far from gentle, but slow, languid, and even if you weren’t ready for it to deepen you’d have had no chance of denying his tongue entry as he pushes it into your mouth. Happily, you match his intensity, opening yourself to him as he explores your mouth. His teeth catch at your bottom lip, nipping hard enough to keep you from getting too lost in the feel of his lips on yours, even as the tinge of pain has your pussy clenching.

When the arm draped around your shoulders slides further round so he can shove his hand into your top you arch into him, thighs squeezing his right hand tighter as he slides the heavy fingers of his left across your nipple playfully. You’re snapped back to reality only slightly when you feel the empty glass being pulled from your hand, glancing to the side even as you keep kissing him to see one of his entourage setting it down on the table in front of you before taking a place standing against the wall, staring out and over the balcony at the crowd below as if there were truly nothing to see here.

Sukuna rolls your nipple between two of his thick fingers, pulling your full attention back onto him. You bring your now freed hand to his head, tangling your fingers in his hair as you tilt your head back and lean further into his touch. Between the tightness of the fabric across your chest and the sheer size of his hands, he’s quickly tired of being so restricted in touching you, pulling his hand out and tugging the top of your dress down to free your breasts as he resumes his teasing. You pull back, having to turn your head away entirely to stop the chase of his lips as you pull your dress back up.

“Whoa-“ you haven’t even moved your hand from your chest before his much larger hand is covering yours, squeezing tightly but not moving to expose you again. There’s a slight warning in his touch, even if he’s smiling at you, bemused by your sudden modesty even as he broadcast to you clear as day that this was precisely what he’d had you brought up here for.

“You’re cute.” The way he says it doesn’t quite feel like a compliment, it feels more like he’s calling you a brat with a bow on it. The fact that it only makes you wetter isn’t lost on you though. “Don’t play with me too much, though.”

He’s moving the ball into your court, making sure you know that you weren’t up here just to get drunk and look pretty. He watches as you consider how much you want to do in front of these people, how much you want to show, and sighs, growing bored already. You asserted a boundary, so he’d assert his in no uncertain terms. Whether that was acceptable was up to you.

The shiver that runs through you as he uncrosses your legs with one hand and pulls your panties to the side with his thumb has him chuckling against your neck while he begins sucking marks into the sensitive skin. His fingers are as rough as you’d guessed as he slides them through your wetness and your eyes shut as you melt into his touch. He’s skilled, teasing you enough to have you angling your hips up for more, pushing one of his thick fingers in just before you’re lost in the sensation enough to whine for it. Once you clench around it he wastes no time, adding a second before digging deep and sliding calloused fingertips over the spot that has you tugging at his hair.

Suddenly, his fingers withdraw, and he pulls your legs open wide, laying one over his lap to give him better access to you. Your eyes snap open as the momentary loss of contact brings you back to your senses enough to remember you were surrounded by a dozen strangers. You tense and snap your legs back shut, and Sukuna sighs again.

“They don’t care what we do.”

Still, having your pussy spread wide in the direct line of sight of strangers was just crossing the line tonight, so you pull away from him slightly and glance around the room to reaffirm your boundary.

He looks you up and down, and for a moment you think he might actually send you away to finish the night with the masses, wetness still smeared along your thighs. It was clear he could have someone more willing up here in a heartbeat. Instead, his lips curl into a smile, and it both unsettles you and makes your pussy clench.

“Go dance.” His eyes hadn’t left yours as he said it, but it was clear it was an order to everyone but you despite the fact that he hadn’t said it to anyone in particular. The crowd in the room moves at once - getting up, grabbing drinks as they go, and leaving the two of you alone. Your eyes are still locked on his, held captive by the intensity of his gaze, heart beating faster and faster as people filter past and down the stairs.

“Better?”

In lieu of an answer you slide your panties partially off, leaving them bunched around one ankle as you climb onto his lap, straddling him. He slides his hands up your thighs and cups your ass, letting his fingers sink into your flesh before deciding he’d have your tits out just as he’d wanted earlier. He tugs your dress down enough to give him the view he’d wanted, then pushes your dress up from the bottom as well to give him better access and you let him do as he pleases at both ends, wrapping your arms around his thick neck and kissing along his tattooed jaw. You settle yourself down onto his lap, starting to grind against him to get an idea of just how big his cock is, but he’s insistent on having his hand between the two of you, sliding his fingers back inside for you to ride them instead.

His thick knuckles catch at your entrance in a way that has your wetness leaking all the faster as the fucks them up into you, and once you’re grinding down to meet his movements he moves his other hand to the back of your head, keeping your lips pressed firmly against his. When his thumb starts stroking at your clit and you moan into his mouth he takes it as his cue to push a third finger into you, pace picking up as his fingers curl just right to add to the sensations he was pulling from you. They’re pushing so deep and fast that it almost distracts from the stretch as he spreads them each time he’s as deep as he can get. As the coil in you tightens, you try to break your endless kiss to warn him you’re close but find you’re held firmly in place. Not that it mattered how much of a mess you made of his lap at this point.

You’re so wet you know his pants must already be absolutely ruined, and as his tongue tangles with yours you realise that you still haven’t gotten a chance to sneak a feel at his cock, thanks to his hand between the two of you. You want to see it, feel it before you cum on it, taste it even, as you become keenly aware of how desperate you are to have it in your mouth. It’s as if his attitude had made you want to match his cockiness, it had made you competitive, and you want to knock him down a peg with your tongue, your mouth, your throat.

As you try again to pull away you have to dig your nails into his shoulders to stop him from kissing you, he was large enough, and hungry enough, that you couldn’t evade him otherwise. When you lock eyes he looks annoyed, tired of any further delays.

“Get your cock out.”

Your words have his eyes sparkling, and he flashes you another wicked grin that only makes you absolutely desperate to feel him in your throat.

He pulls his fingers from you and slides you down just enough to sit atop his knees as he makes quick work of both button and zip with one hand as the other hand stays tightly gripping your ass to hold you in place. He pulls his cock out from where it rests hard and heavy across his hip within his pants, stroking it with an iron grip as he looks into your eyes, gaze nearly as intimidating as the thing in front of you as he revels in your reaction at seeing its size.

It is, to your awe and slight horror, perfectly proportional to the rest of his massive frame. Thick, heavy, with a fat head almost flushed red and veins rippling along the girthy shaft. The steel beads of the piercings trailing down underneath his length glimmer in the dim lighting of the room and add an extra amount of flair and fright to the honest to god mean appearance of such an intimidating cock. He squeezes at the base and when he releases it it flops back against his stomach, unable to stand with all of its weight. As much as your mouth is watering, you know your limits. Gone are your hopes of taking it to the base, watching him marvel at disappearing into your throat - and sucking on the head while you jerk him off wasn’t exactly what you’d pictured.

“Too much for you?”

The words, filled with mockery, pull your gaze back up to his, and he looks so very smug when you let out a less-than-confident, “No.”

“Well?” He wasn’t going to let that weak answer stand, pressing at you and enjoying the falter in your face from just how greedily you’d asked him to get it out just a moment ago.

“I just don’t know if I can suck that.”

Your honesty delights him, and his cock jumps slightly as he tenses from laughter. “I’m not asking you to. I didn’t stretch that cunt open for nothing.”

He pulls you closer with the hand gripping your ass, and slides three fingers back inside you unceremoniously. They had indeed gone in with much more ease than they had several minutes ago, and he begins pumping them inside you again. With the way he was stirring you up you know the noises would have been absolutely obscene if not for the music, not that you would have cared what people hear at this point.

You really had wanted to show off for him, slurping, gagging, taking him to the base and looking up at him with tear streaked eyes. But he was a fucking monster and you’d just have to accept that loss, something relatively easy to do as his fingers are right back to stirring you up. Those thoughts of knocking him down a peg with your head game are long gone as you rock into his fingers, meeting his palm for some needed friction, and just when you get it he pulls his fingers out and rubs your slick along his shaft.

He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth as if you were some servant, pulling your attention from his cock alone to his face as he gives you an order with a bemused expression. “Sit on it.”

With your pussy desperate to be full again, you’re in no position to delay the inevitable any longer, bracing yourself for your cunt to take what you weren’t sure your mouth could. He takes you licking your lips and rising higher onto your knees as accepting his order and spits on his hand, rubbing it over his cock to join the wetness that was already coating it. A few minutes ago you’d have questioned if that was necessary with how wet he’d gotten you. At this point you’d take what you can get, not that anything could stop you now.

He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you forward and up until he can line the head of his cock up with your entrance. The thick head swirling through your wetness for only a moment is the last warning before he’s sinking you down onto him. He turns his attention to your chest as he does, sucking a nipple between his lips, latching onto as much of your breast as he can suck into his large mouth. He stops only once, half way, pumping up and into you a few times, helping coax your wetness down his shaft, before he’s pulling you down onto him completely, groaning once you’ve taken it all.

He releases your breast, tugging on your nipple with his teeth as he does, and that pain almost eclipses the absolute stretch of having him in your guts. It’s as if the wind has been knocked out of you, and you let out a few gasps as you try to clench and adjust to him. He chuckles, and the feel of his cock throbbing inside of you as he does has your thighs jumping, fingers digging into his pecs as you rock your hips slowly. His hand falls between the two of you, palm pressing at your abdomen, thumb swiping at your clit, coaxing you back into yourself.

“C'mon, where's all that fire now?”

’Just a second,’ you think, ’just give me one fucking second.’ You don’t say that, though, you can’t. Instead you let out the tiniest little stutter, a noise you’d have been mortified at if your brain weren’t so focused on the feel of being so completely stuffed full.

“Aw,” you open your eyes at this and see Sukuna donning a pout not unlike the one you’d given him upon entering meeting him, “didn’t think I’d break you before I’d even fucked you properly.”

Between his words and his thumb swiping insistently at your clit, something clicks and you bring your knees up, planting your heels on the couch for purchase as you start slowly moving up his length before seating yourself back down. You clench around him as you rise, letting out moans once you settle back on him and he wraps a hand around your jaw, pulling your face close to kiss you as you ride him.

“Mmm, there you go,” he nips at your lower lip before releasing your face to lean back, fully relaxed against the couch below as his thumb continues to lazily swipe at your clit.

He watches you moan, and tense, and struggle to ride to the very tip of his length before coming back down and rocking your hips. You feel him making his cock twitch inside of you when you stop riding, baring his teeth in a wicked smile at the moan it elicits from you. It’s not easy work to ride him, and he knows it. Even just being on his lap, he’s too big to ride with your knees comfortable on the couch. Nevermind adding the considerable length you have to work your way up without coming down too fast or hard.

Still, you give it your all, thighs shaking both exertion and the intensity of having him so deep. Your hands dig into his pecs as you watch him taking you in, eyes burning, biting at his own lip in what you think might be an attempt to stifle his own deep moans as you find your footing and begin riding him in earnest. His eyes flick down to your tits, watching them bounce, pushed together by the positioning of your arms and he begins rocking his hips up every so often. It’s just enough to have your tits bouncing harder, just enough to throw you off too - pussy quaking every time his hips snap up into yours with no warning. He watches your face again, laughing as frustration builds at him throwing off your pace even as he helps to build the pressure in your core.

You let loose a groan between your huffs and sighs of pleasure and dig your nails into his pecs, earning a thrust from below hard enough to send you toppling forward into his grasp. He holds you firmly in place, biting and sucking at the tits now in his face before he’s releasing them in lieu of pulling your mouth down onto his by the back of your neck. He matches the pace you’d set earlier, letting you rock your hips into his movements and think, just for a moment, that you still had some semblance of control.

“Cute…” he almost growls it into your mouth, and his lips curling into a smile against yours is the closest you get to a warning as he thrusts up into you at a pace too punishing for you to even begin to match.

You feel like a rag doll as he holds you chest to chest with him, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you down and onto him. He’s fucking you hard enough you swear you can feel him in your chest, and his heavy balls slap at your ass with the speed and strength of his hips snapping against yours.

“Fuck…” it’s the most intelligible thing you can say at this point, and that has his cock throbbing inside of you as he bares his teeth at you in another of those wicked grins that have your stomach and pussy tightening in unison. All you can do is hold on to him, hands clutching to fistfuls of the fabric of his shirt as he uses your body, the fast approach of your orgasm seemingly incidental as he chases his own high.

He lets loose a noise just short of a roar as he fucks you so hard you begin to understand why he’d asked if you were scared of him earlier. Your brain feels like it’s threatening to break with the feel of him and the way the girth of him presses and slides against every inch of your pussy is the only thing anchoring you to your body. As he begins pumping you full of cum the slowing of his thrusts gives your cunt something to cling to once the pressure within you reaches a fever pitch and you cum, tensing, clawing at his chest as you resume riding him weakly for a just a moment through the rest of your orgasm.

He gives you a moment, as he takes his, enjoying fucking his cum up into you until you’re squirming. When you push at him he lifts you off of him, sliding you back onto the couch, and you’re far too spent to even worry about the cum dripping out of you and onto the likely expensive leather below. You catch your breath, body buzzing and barely aware of the man next to you idly waving his hand at the corner of the room as he tucks his cock back into his pants.

As someone emerges from the dark of the corner of the room you snap your legs shut and pull your dress in place, realising in horror that not everyone had been dismissed earlier. The very person who had annoyedly guided you here earlier then heads to the stairs, presumably to retrieve the rest of the entourage.

Sukuna leans forward, pulling the previously forgotten champagne from its resting place, filling your glass before bringing the bottle to his lips as he settles back into his seat. While you’re processing what the other person in the room had seen, sheepishly pulling your panties back up, he’s already past it, ready to continue his night as people filter back in, equally unphased.

“Drink up, the night’s still young.”

Through the embarrassment of having cum leaking out of you in a room full of strangers is a small excitement building, and you’re more pleased than you’d like to admit that you were apparently invited along to whatever this man had in mind for tonight.

CHAPTER 2

#minors will be blocked #my writing #jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #reader insert

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cartermagazine · 5 months

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Today In History

Jack Johnson became the first Black World Heavyweight Boxing Champion by knocking out champion Tommy Burns on this date December 26, 1908.

Johnson fought professionally from 1897 to 1928 and engaged in exhibition matches as late as 1945. Until his fight with Burns, racial discrimination had limited Johnson’s opportunities and purses. When he became champion, a hue and cry for a “Great White Hope” produced numerous opponents.

He also wrote two books of memoirs, Mes Combats (in French, 1914) and Jack Johnson in the Ring and Out (1927; reprinted 1975).

Nicknamed the “Galveston Giant, Johnson is considered by many boxing observers to be one of the greatest heavyweights of all time.

CARTER™️ Magazine

#carter magazine #carter #historyandhiphop365 #wherehistoryandhiphopmeet #history #cartermagazine #today in history #staywoke #blackhistory #blackhistorymonth #jack johnson

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valleydean · 2 months

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Chapter 1 [Read Here]

CHAMPION Part III of Heavyweight a deancas boxing au by valleydean (emmbrancsxx0) playlist | tip

SUMMARY: Brooklyn, 1933. Dean Winchester, the number one contender, trains to become the next Heavyweight Champion of the World, and this time he won't let anything get in his way. Title holder Castiel Novak has second thoughts about retiring, especially when someone from his past arrives in New York and asks for his help. Meanwhile, a new contender rises to fame and threatens to complicate both of Dean and Cas' ambitions - and their relationship.

PREVIEW:

An-gel Nov-ak! An-gel Nov-ak!

The crowd cheered for him from the bleachers of the world’s largest arena. Chicago Stadium had 26,000 seats, and every single one had been filled. There were men and women who paid more than they could afford for the rare chance of seeing the Heavyweight Champion of the World from the nosebleeds; and, sitting ringside, there were those who remained wealthy despite the turbulent times: celebrities and politicians, mobsters and socialites. All of their shouts sounded the same as they whooped and roared when Castiel knocked his opponent out in the seventh round.

Over an hour had passed since then. Now, the quiet hung like a curtain as Castiel stood in the center of the ring, and he assumed this would be the last time he’d ever perform in Chicago.

“What’s it like being back in your hometown?” the reporter from the Chicago Tribune had asked him in the post-fight press conference. Castiel had informed the man that Chicago wasn’t, in fact, his hometown. He’d never lived in the city. He’d only ever visited, and rarely. Besides, he hadn’t thought of Illinois as home for a very long time.

“After you retire at the end of the year, do you think Pretty Boy Winchester can win the title?” another reporter had asked. The question had made the raw, tender skin over Castiel’s knuckles stretch and burn when he tightened his fists under the table.

Yes, of course, I believe Dean will take my title next year. He’s more than deserving.

That had been his answer, the words coming out mindlessly from all the times he’d repeated himself before. They were truthful. He meant them. Castiel could tamp down the scalding pride in his chest at the thought of anyone but him wearing the belt. Because it wouldn’t be anyone. It would be the same man he’d look in the eyes every morning when he woke up.

Dean wanted the title, and he should have it. It was his turn and Castiel would support him every step of the way.

He’s more than deserving.

He just wished Dean had spoken to him before announcing to the world, right after Castiel’s first victory of the year when his wounds were still bleeding, that he would participate in a title fight after Castiel was gone. Maybe, if he’d given Castiel some kind of indication beforehand, it wouldn’t have felt like he was walking over Castiel’s grave.

Castiel scanned the arena outside of the ring. The house lights were on, making the place seem foreign and liminal. The spilled popcorn kernels, cigarette ash, and crumpled trash that lined the sticky floors served as the only signs that life had once been vibrant there. Castiel could still feel the hot overhead lights on his skin, just as surely as he felt the blood seeping onto his bandages and the bruises that would line his face tomorrow. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes.

Soon, bruises and blood would be a thing of the past. All the pain that came with victory wouldn’t plague him anymore. He could unclench his fists, relax his muscles, let his calloused knuckles soften and his bones heal from all the times they’d been broken.

He wondered if, like an ache on a rainy day, those fractured bones would remember the glory. If they’d whisper, or if they’d echo with yells.

An-gel Nov-ak!

The loud whining of a metal door struck the silence like a jab.

“Cas!”

The door clattered closed, and Castiel’s eyes fluttered open. His neck was starting to pinch. He leveled his chin and watched Dean stride down the aisle between the ringside seats, polished shoes crunching over debris as he went. He was still wearing his suit, his wool coat draped over his arm.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Dean complained. “The hell are you doing out here?”

“Thinking,” Castiel said simply, even though it felt like a lie. His mind had just been circling around the same thing it had been for nearly three months now: his retirement, and everything that went along with it. He’d asked Dean time and time again if he was doing the right thing. And, time and time again, Dean had assured him that he was.

He believed Dean, because Dean wanted what was best for him. They wanted what was best for each other. And yet, the question remained like a contusion on Castiel’s ribs.

Castiel resolved not to bother Dean with it anymore. The answer wouldn’t change, and neither would the circumstances. It was like Dean kept saying: it was okay to feel mixed emotions, and to be nostalgic. What Castiel felt was nothing more than that. Castiel would learn how to open his hands and put down the fight.

He still had eight months, two weeks, and a day to learn how.

Dean walked up the steps and ducked into the ring. “Okay. Thinking about what?” he asked, carefully hanging his coat on the ropes so it wouldn’t crease.

Castiel pressed his lips together and looked to the side, hoping to find an excuse. He remembered what the reporter from the Tribune had asked him. “My father used to take me to Chicago sometimes—before we had a car. He would make me load the pigs into the Studebaker wagon to trade them at the markets. The trip took almost nine hours. It smelled. But it was better than killing them.”

He brought his eyes back to Dean, who was furrowing his brow as if Castiel was insane.

“What?”

“You’re thinking about pigs?” Dean asked.

Castiel sighed wearily.

Dean shrugged. “Well, we could go see ‘em. If you want.”

Now, Castiel’s brow lined. “The pigs? I’m fairly certain they were slaughtered.”

“No, not the—” Dean groaned. “Your folks.”

Castiel would rather not.

“Might be nice,” Dean pressed on. “I wouldn’t mind meeting them.”

Castiel shook his head. “They don’t want to see me.”

“You mean, you don’t wanna see them?” Dean corrected, as if reading Castiel’s mind.

“I want to go to sleep,” Castiel answered, changing the subject. His face was beginning to pound, and he didn’t know if that was because of his wounds or the current topic. He walked from the center of the ring toward Dean, who was pouting.

“I thought we were gonna go out,” Dean reminded him. “Only got one more night here. I got some club recommendations before the fight.” He grinned handsomely, which he knew usually got him his way, and sauntered closer to Castiel. He wrapped his arms loosely around Castiel’s waist, making their chests brush. “Get some drinks in you and your face’ll hurt less.”

Castiel was exhausted, and it wasn’t as though Dean had never seen Chicago before, but he had promised Dean a night on the town.

“And you defended your title tonight,” Dean said. “That calls for a toast!”

“Is that what you want to do?” Castiel asked, his eyes drinking in Dean’s ruggedly enticing face. He cupped his sore hands around Dean’s elbows.

Dean smiled again. “Hell, yes!”

As much as Castiel wished he could rest, lying in bed right now wouldn’t be the same without Dean. He still hadn’t found a way to say no to Dean, anyway. “Fine. Then, let’s go.”

With a smug smile, Dean leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to the corner of Castiel’s mouth. It stung a little, but Castiel gladly took the pain that came along with the warm feeling the kiss left.

Dean pulled away and headed for his coat, saying over his shoulder, “C’mon, go put your tie and jacket back on. I’ll go get us a cab.” He left the ring and hustled down the stairs, headed for an exit door.

Castiel lingered for another second, looking over his shoulder at the center of the ring. Beyond, the stadium was still vacant. When it had been filled and the crowd had been cheering his name, he’d felt as if he’d been flying. He wondered if this was what it would feel like after he retired: like he was being pulled to the ground.

Shaking the thought away, he exited the ring and went to the dressing room to collect his things.

#Let's FUCKIN GOOOO #destiel #deancas #destieledit #deancasedit #destiel fic #deancas fic #dean winchester #deanedit #castiel #casedit #castieledit #my writing #my post #heavyweight #boxing au

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aloesarchives · 6 months

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Kengan Headcanon: Gaolong's reaction to an opponent speaking about you in a unsavory manner

Warnings: Swearing on my end, reader been ogled at, gender neutral reader/pronouns

Series: Kengan Ashura/ Kengan Omega

Pairing: Gaolong Wongsawat x GN! Reader

Word count: 1988

Pronouns: They/them (reader is referred as partner and (Y/N))

(A/N: Been sitting in my file for a year. Now it's finally finished and posted. Please let me know if there is anything else I need to tag in my warnings.)

So I already established that in my headcanon of Gaolang that he respects women unironically, actually he respects people in general.

That’s because he’s just GOATED like that and is overall a decent person, especially in the world/universe of Kengan.

But back to the topic, the reason why I want to establish this is he is someone that doesn’t take no shit from anyone. Based on what we learned in Ashura, Gaolang looks down upon those who are cocky and don’t take fighting seriously. Looking more into it, he normally just gets irritated by them due to his calm and collected composure.

In the world of the sport boxing, it’s no stranger that he will come across people who don’t fall under the definition of sportsmanship. Gaolang has his fair share of opponents that need a little bit of humbling, and he for sure gives it to them during the boxing match. It also doesn’t help his perception of them when they think and openly claim they can clean Gaolang up, making him believe they’re shallow inside and out. But he only does the pre-fight press conference because his manager told him it builds up his good reputation and consistent publicity. Knowing him, he wouldn’t really go to these but he does it for the sake of the sport and the benefits it brings as previously mentioned.

In a normal situation at a pre-fight press conference, he’ll get annoyed by these fighters and let that emotion subside after the press conference is done. He’ll reply nonchalantly to anything that’s thrown at him whether it’s questions or remarks from his opponents that tests the waters. He knows how to handle them and just waits to get into the ring so his fighting can do all the talking for him.

That’s until there was one opponent he had to fight he wouldn’t forget. Gaolang’s title as heavyweight champion was never challenged nor questioned at all. But during that moment in time, Gaolang’s title as champion was being questioned when another boxer was racking up wins left and right. Although this boxer was slightly younger, he was picking up fast and his fights looked impressive. Eventually, this novice boxer was turning heads and getting popular to the point where rumors and speculation about him being the new champion in the heavyweight division. It seemed absurd to think so, but it wasn’t out of the picture.

Gaolang saw the boxer’s other fights and understood where the praise was coming from. Although Gaolang was confident in his abilities, he still was cautious of the other’s abilities and boxing style. So like always, Gaolang trained like he always does. This wasn’t new to you at all since you have been with Gaolang for quite some time and married for a few years at that point in time.

You thought this opponent was different as he seemed humble and didn’t bark a lot. After turning on the t.v. back in Thailand, you started watching the pre-fight press conference. Again, nothing new to you at all. When the questions from reporters started coming in, both boxers answered them as normal. However, you had a feeling that something was off about the guy. You could tell what it was but your gut had a strange feeling that couldn’t be shaken.

It was not until the last 15 minutes of the conference that the novice boxer started to bite off more than he can chew. There was one reporter left that triggered a particular answer from him that caught Gaolang’s attention. However, what got a reaction out of him was when the boxer mentioned your name.

“But I will admit though, Gaolang. I’m jealous of you. You’ve got a beautiful and wonderful partner there. I wish I had someone like (Y/N).”

Gaolang didn’t like where this was going. More so when someone mentions your name that wasn’t friends, family, or King Rama. He knows people like to use your name to throw off Gaolang but he knows how to deal with those who try to use your name to their advantage.

But it doesn’t mean Gaolang doesn’t feel any sort of anger when this happens, especially now.

Gaolang stood up and gave his signature glare to his opponent. He then walked across the stage and stood in the middle. The boxer did the same but he had a stupid shit eating grin plastered on his face.

“What’s with the face, Gaolang? I thought you would agree since you have (Y/N) to yourself, ya’know? Having such a fine person as a partner is something between us two men with good taste could understand.”

“Watch your tongue, (Boxer’s name). (Y/N) is not an object and is not to be ogled at, have some respect.”

But the boxer didn’t know any better and forgot to hold his tongue. The next few things that came out his mouth sent Gaolang’s blood boiling. Then there’s you who gasped and covered your mouth as you watched what unfolded in front of you on the screen. Deepening his glare more while still keeping his stoic face, he looked down upon the novice boxer.

“Your words against (Y/N) are punishable crimes, and I will deliver the punishment without further question.”

With that, Gaolang turned and walked towards the exit. All chaos breaks out in the conference room. Meanwhile, you were sitting at home with the feeling of disgust and a pinch of fear. You never minded when your name came in the news, but this type of attention was something you feared and the fact a man said on live television with no hesitation was terrifying.

Basically, Gaolang went straight to his hotel room and took a cool shower to calm down.

The anger subsided but the feeling of repulse didn’t.

There are only 3 things that Gaolang shows pride, loyalty and devotion towards: the country of Thailand, King Rama, and you.

And how dare that boxer disrespect you in front of him. The absolute audacity!!!

After Gaolang finishes his shower, he calls you to see if you're okay. Whether it is physically or emotionally, Gaolang needs to make sure you’re doing alright. Gaolang, as always, is respectful towards you in anything. That’s why he has never mentioned you or your relationship to the public unless you allow it. But even then, he wants it to be lowkey af.

Sure, you have calmed down. However, you were a little shaken by this. I mean, I would if a random man said some unsavory things about me on public broadcasting.

Gaolang apologized for letting this happen to you, to which you told him that this isn’t anything too serious and that he should focus more on his upcoming title defense match.

However, this was and IS a serious matter to Gaolang. So the next few days, Gaolang trained with just a little bit more intent than normal.

(Meanwhile, that boxer is getting absolutely slandered for the shit he said on the internet. Those netizens don’t like how he dissed their favorite power couple)

At last, the day of the match that would decide who keeps the title is here. You opt to stay home for this as it would be better for your piece of mind. But you were more worried about Gaolang. Although you know your husband well, actually that’s the problem. You know how exactly your husband is. Goalang isn’t a hard person to read. He’s rational, calm, loyal, and observant. One thing you notice about Gaolang is how defensive he can get.

People can shit talk him all they want, he could give zeros fucks at all. But insult Thailand, King Rama, or god forbid you, that person is gonna get fucking die.

It had been a couple of days since the conference. So you know the initial anger wore off. But still, you only hope Gaolang goes somewhat easy on him.

But since the controversy at the press conference caused such attention, this match was one of Gaolang’s most anticipated matches yet for any of his titles.

The event started as per usual with any boxing matches, the sponsors, introductions/entrances, anthems, etc. The challenger seems as confident as ever, having barely any nervousness evident on his face. Same goes with Gaolang, but with his classic stoic stare. The match was on its way once the referee explained the rules and the first bell rang.

However, you knew something was wrong right off the bat with him. It wasn't like Gaolang was fighting alright, he’s a man that never half ass anything. But you can tell he wasn’t giving his all at all. You didn’t know why he wasn’t trying at all. This wasn’t like his fight with Kaneda, he put effort into that one. But something was different about this match and you couldn’t tell what.

It seemed like Gaolong was struggling seemingly, the commentators were shocked and questioned that there would be a new heavyweight boxing champion on their hands. Was this the end of Gaolong’s reign as boxing champion?

No, you knew we wouldn’t lose to people like his opponent. He would rather die than give them a win.

The third round came along and around seemed hype about Gaolong’s opponent and he seemingly being the winner. However, Gaolong was not phased by this. In fact, he still kept his calm composed aura like he always does. That’s when you saw that Gaolong was up to something. You didn’t know yet but it was something.

The 3rd match began and that was when everything suddenly changed. It was like a flip of a switch as Gaolong just started boxing the hell out of his opponent. Gaolong had landed more hits than his opponent could dodge.

It was obvious to the crowd that this round was one-sided. Gaolong outmatched the hell of his opponent in every way he could. And with a finishing blow to the jaw, Gaolong had won by a knockout. The crowd went wild, the commentators losing their minds from the fast yet heavy KO.

Gaolong pulled the ultimate power move by letting his opponent think he had a sliver of hope in beating Gaolong. Only for Gaolong to straight up smash it to the group and pummel it until it was dust. He shattered the man’s hopes and dreams by letting him think he had a chance of getting a win only for Gaolong to show him that he is nowhere near his level.

That Gaolong was miles ahead of this cocky bastard and he made sure his opponent knew that. This loss will forever change his opponent for the rest of his career.

After the Gaolong’s win was finalized, all he wanted to do was go home back to Thailand and be with you. That’s it. He did his press conferences and interviews, but he didn’t care for them. All that mattered was you and he needed to get home to you as soon as possible.

As always, King Rama gives Gaolong a few days to a week off of work when Gaolong brings home a win. Every time Gaolong wins, it’s like an unofficial national holiday is happening. Thailand is bright and festive as ever everything he wins.

Now with Gaolong back home and off from work, he just spends his time with you. Maybe a little training but more so leisure and doing errands or chores with you. You were happy that Gaolong isn’t in a bad mood anymore but Gaolong now knows that people who weaponized you and your name against him just to stir the pot.

Well, he takes that pot and creates his own fucking food with it because no way in hell will he let someone do that to you. He made it known with that match. Because after that match, his opponents never mentioned your name ever again.

Thai God Guard Dog privileges.

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Hope you enjoyed it! Please like or/and reblog it! Have a wonderful day!

#kengan ashura #kengan omega #x reader #gaolang wongsawat #kengan ashura headcanons #kengan ashura x reader #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #x gn reader #x gn y/n

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redtsundere-writes · 2 months

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Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen

mmafigther!sukuna ryomen x femcoach!reader

Part 10. Doubt

Beginning. ← Previous | Next →

Synopsis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Sukuna being Sukuna. Female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Warnings: Cursed words. Fighting. Sexual harassment. I only read it once, lmao Word count: 3656 words. A/N: Sorry for not posting this yesterday, my life has been a fucking mess lately, but that's what makes it fun, isn't it? I tried weed for the first time, it helps a lot.

Btw I made a PLAYLIST

Aoi Todo, the champions’ destroyer. In the beginning, he was just another boxer on the big MMA scene. One more rookie among the candidates desperate for a fight. No one seemed to be impressed by his skills until he stepped into the octagon for the first time. Overwhelming victory after victory, climbing steady until he reached the champion of his division, Toji Fushiguro, a feared opponent due to his great career in the UFC. For being 40 years old, he still moved as if his bones were made out of rubber.

The first fight for the title of the heavyweight division was on everyone's mouths, the stakes went through the roof. A complete rookie threatening one of the most talented champions in the industry to take his place. Aoi defeated him on his first attempt by unanimous decision. Toji took it personally so he asked for a rematch that same night and the rest is history.

“Aoi Todo is a strategist by nature, we must plan this fight carefully,” Gojo commented while reading a sports article about our future opponent that Yuuji had found on the internet.

The official Sukuna team was back in the meeting room to plan what we would do to defeat the threat that attempted against the kingdom of the king of the ring. Sukuna couldn't take his eyes off the screen that was playing the last fight Todo had against Toji, the one we watched in the penthouse a month ago.

While he couldn't take his eyes off his opponent, I couldn't stop looking at him. He looked very attractive when he was focused. His crossed arms, his slightly raised eyebrow and his penetrating eyes caught my attention every time. Sometimes I just wanted to come up behind him, hold him against my body and… “What the fuck am I thinking?” I scolded myself, forcing myself to snap back to reality.

I was trying my best to get rid of my feelings towards Sukuna. It was unprofessional, and it was obvious that it wasn’t going anywhere. He still doesn't give me any signs of romantic interest in me, he avoids me when we are in the penthouse sometimes, and he still has his “special sessions” with Shoko. I feel like a fool for getting my hopes up just because he makes me to live with him and gifted me pajamas. It didn't help that I found him attractive long before I met him in person. “Just ignore it and the feeling will go away on its own,” I thought.

“He is a boxer by specialty like Sukuna, it would be best to stay in that area. Gojo will be in charge of training this time,” Nanami wisely recommended, attracting me again to the conversation.

That was good news for me. I would still be in training, but I no longer had to be helicoptering all the time to get him to do floor exercises correctly. Plus, I could watch him train and make mental notes on how to improve my boxing skills for when I make my big comeback to the octagon. It was a unique opportunity to learn from one of the best boxers on the scene.

"That seems fine to me,” I nodded.

"He will not be an easy opponent," Yuuji commented. "Not everyone can send a legend to retirement.”

After the legendary 3 out of 3 fight, Toji Fushiguro officially announced his retirement to the press. He wasn't doing it for Aoi Todo, but because he is already over 40 years old and knows his own bodily limits. In addition, he wanted to give the spotlight to the next generation of fighters, especially his son, whom he will personally train from now on. Which means Megumi had to quit Team Black immediately to return to his father's gym. Yuuji was a bit sad because he won’t see him as often anymore, but they promised to talk to each other daily.

As we left the meeting room, we saw that almost all the members of Team Black were gathered by the entrance, watching as several delivery men left large packages at the lobby. All professionally packaged. Sukuna didn't pay any mind to them and went to train with Gojo so as not to waste time.

"What are they giving away or what?" I asked Yuuji.

"Today is the best day at the gym! Tomorrow is Sukuna's birthday,” he answered with a twinkle in his eye.

I already knew that. For a week I have been looking for the perfect birthday gift for him, but it was more complicated than I thought. When Sukuna wants something, he just buys it without paying attention to the price, an enviable custom. What can you give to someone who can pay for almost anything with their black card?

"Every year he receives hundreds of gifts from sponsors, important gyms and other athletes who want to work with him,” Yuuji explained to me.

When I used to be the champion, I also got gifts like that, but they were 10 or 20, not 80 boxes that you can turn into a tower if you stack them. Yuuji excitedly took my arm to approach the pile.

"But those gifts are for Sukuna, why are we standing in line?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Sukuna never wants their gifts because he says it's a “waste” of space, so he give it to us," Yuuji explained with a smile.

Once the delivery men finished their work, everyone rushed over to the boxes to see what they had inside. Everyone opened the boxes and exchanged the loot depending on what it was. There were expensive sports clothes, top brand protein powders, energy drinks, cutting-edge electronics, flashy watches, leather wallets, etc. It looked like a crazy Black Friday sale.

"Nikes! Good thing I share shoe size with Sukuna," Yuuji commented as he opened a pair of red sneakers with his brother's initials engraved in gold on the heel.

I took one of the boxes that were at the bottom. It had the Adidas logo printed in black all over it. I opened it to take out a black t-shirt with “Ryomen” and the number 1 written on the back. It looked like an average soccer player's jersey. It was size L, so it was too baggy for me, but I could wear it as pajamas.

"What are you going to get him, Yuuji?" I asked him directly while hanging my shirt on my shoulder.

"A compression shirt like every year, Sukuna is a simple man," he answered without giving it much importance.

That was great advice. He always wears neutral-colored clothes, the penthouse has a minimalist style, and he sticks religiously to his routine. His only hobbies are swimming in his large pool and watching old movies at night. He doesn't go out with friends, eat sweets, nor go on dates. If Sukuna wasn't a talented fighter, he would be a very boring man.

Sukuna cornered Yuuji against the ring. His fists flew towards his face, sides, and abdomen. Yuuji raised his gloves towards his face to prevent him from knocking him out. He was among the other fighters who looked up to Sukuna as if he were the new messiah. His posture was perfect, his movements were balanced, and the power of his fists were impressive. My eyes analyzed the position of his feet, the distance between his torso and his fists and the slight curvature of his back.

Yuuji has a love-hate relationship when it comes to training with his brother. He likes training with him because that way they spend more time together, and he learns to fight better, while he hated it because Sukuna never holds back. He treats every training session as if it were a championship fight. Yuuji was hurting inside, but he was doing a good job of holding on. The older one focused on getting the knockout, so Yuuji put his guard up. Bad move. Sukuna changed his strategy mid-move and began to hit him at full power in the abdomen. His little brother doubled over in pain and fell against the floor.

"Son of a bitch, I can’t breathe," Yuuji murmured, taking off his helmet.

"Don't be a crybaby. C’mon, get up," Sukuna asked him, annoyed.

"The crybaby can't fight anymore," Gojo announced. Sukuna sighed exasperatedly.

"Fast. Someone get in the ring.,” the king ordered his subjects.

Since Megumi was not there to replace Yuuji as usual, the fighters looked at each other to see who would be brave enough to go up to face the monster. They all knew that they would face the same fate as Yuuji or worse. Since there were no volunteers, I decided to get into the ring.

"Really?" Sukuna asked me with an evil smile as I helped Yuuji take off his protective gear. He seemed to be in a good mood.

"I can learn a thing or two from you," I said as I put on the protective helmet.

"Aren't you going to hurt yourself?" He scoffed. He spoke as if we were in a showdown at an official weigh-in. Sukuna was trying to intimidate me, but I was going to erase his smile.

"My doctor said that my neck is completely healed, do you know what that means?" I asked him as I put on Yuuji's boxing gloves.

Sukuna and I approach the center to continue training. Sukuna started with a hook to the liver that I evaded with the body. Our feet moved simultaneously, making the canvas squeak.

"Are you going to leave?" He asked me before punching me in the face. I pulled up my gloves to avoid the impact.

"I already told Nanami, I'll leave after the fight and leave you in the hands of another coach," I told him before throwing a hook to his cheek. It didn't connect.

"Who gave you permission to leave?" Sukuna spat, approaching me suddenly.

"Myself," I backed away.

"What if I tripled your salary?" Sukuna hit me on the shoulder.

"It's not about money," I told him once to regain my balance. "I want to return to the octagon and get back my title."

"Are you going to fight or what?" Gojo scolded us with his arms crossed. We talked a lot and fought little.

Sukuna clicked his gloves and launched a killer combo at me. I barely evaded it and went ahead to close the distance, entering his territory abruptly. I threw the best punches I could, but it wasn't enough. I was so used to using my legs to win fights that I felt completely helpless if I could only use my fists. My hooks, jabs, and uppercuts were no match for Sukuna's powerful punches. They were direct and fast. With each blow, my resistance decreased. I could barely stand.

"Coach Gojo, it's time," Shoko asked out loud so we could both hear her. Gojo ended the fight. I was saved by the physiotherapist.

Sukuna pulled himself aside from my body to sigh heavily. I took off the helmet to lighten my body. He took off his gloves without looking at me, he was focused on his thoughts. Maybe processing the news I had given him.

"When I saw you in the ring after beating Naoya, I realized that I miss fighting a lot," I explained as I approached him shyly. What he was going to say next would only be for him. "I want to be like you," I whispered without looking at his face out of embarrassment.

Sukuna’s POV

It's been a couple of months since I've been living with Y/n, and I've learned a few things about her. She is direct, strong, knows what she wants, independent and... she is extremely cute without even trying. She walks around the house in giant shirts that look like short dresses, drags her slippers across the floor in the morning before drinking her coffee, and dances with her headphones on when she thinks no one is watching. How can a girl be so docile but so dangerous at the same time? She was like a cute kitten that can transform into a fierce cheetah in a second.

Little by little, my eyes have been drawn to her daily actions. How gently her hands move when putting on another fighter's boxing gloves, how his eyes move quickly when analyzing me from head to toe and how she pulls hair away from her face, tucking her unruly hair behind her ear. I would like to stop time, so I could admire her all as long as I wanted. I was starting to like her, but there was a problem…

"Do you think Choso and Y/n make a cute couple?" Yuuji asked me through the phone.

I removed the wet towel from my face to look at him through the camera with a frown. The hot water caressed my skin, the bubbles reflected my profile in a blurry way and the flame of the aromatic candle moved subtly. It was a great evening in the comfort of my tub, but Yuuji seemed to be in the mood to ruin it.

"What the hell is that question?" I scoffed.

"Do you want to know what Choso just told me?" Yuuji asked me while raising his eyebrows.

"Someday they are going to kill you for gossiping". I sighed in annoyance. My little brother is a good guy, but he often shares things that he shouldn’t. That's why I prefer to keep my thoughts to myself instead of telling him.

"It is not gossip, it called being informed," he defended himself. "But you really want to know this. Maybe your relationship with Choso will get better soon.”

Since we were kids, Choso and Yuuji have followed me like loyal soldiers. They accompanied me anywhere at any time, we were the powerful Ryomen trio for as long as I could remember... until that blonde bitch decided to ruin everything with her poisonous presence. Every time I think about what happened, my head hurts. I miss having Choso in my life, but I wasn't going to beg him to come back. It's not my fault he doesn’t want to believe the truth.

"Choso told me that Y/n would call him when she's the protector again. Basically she confessed to him!” Itadori exclaimed excitedly.

I closed my eyes and put the warm towel back on my face. I knew Y/n liked Choso since I saw it in her eyes when we were at the bar after my victory against Fushiguro, but I didn't see Choso as in love as he was with the unmentionable. Maybe it was because I was constantly seeing them, Choso tends to get nervous easily.

When Yuuji first told me, I didn't give a damn, but I overlooked one small detail. “…when I'm the protector again” What the fuck that’s supposed to mean? Did she perhaps believe she was a superhero, chosen by God or a WWE wrestler? I thought it was an weeb joke between them or something, but I was wrong.

"When I saw you in the ring after beating Naoya, I realized that I miss fighting a lot," Y/n approached me without looking at me, her eyes looking at the floor. It was strange to see her act so shy. "I want to be like you," she whispered so that only I could hear her.

My heart skipped a beat in confusion. I knew this would happen one day. She would be leaving soon. I didn't know whether to be offended or flattered by her words. Did she really have to tell me something as cheesy as that? She is the only coach capable enough to teach me how to do floor techniques, the only one who makes me give my 110%, the only one who pays attention to the details and makes sure I achieve perfection. I couldn't lose the only coach who tolerates my attitude.

But he knew he couldn't stop her. He is a free and wild soul, he will always do whatever he wants. There was nothing to fight if he had already made a decision,I knew it why she is similar to me in that aspect. She is a champion before being my coach. If the world doesn't move, she will move it.

"That's why I want to ask you to let me train with you," she bowed in respect. It was a sight worth capturing in my mind and admiring.

"I'm not going to be nice just because you're my coach," I warned her.

"I didn't expect you to be," she told me with a smile. Y/n looked relieved for some reason.

"We start tomorrow," I told him before leaving with Shoko to the therapy room. The last thing I saw when I looked back was her sweet smile that her lips let escape thinking I wasn’t looking.

The fucking alarm woke me up at 5 in the morning as always. I turned it off with a smack and sat on the edge of the bed to fully wake up. I checked my phone and the screen was flooded with happy birthday messages that people had sent me since midnight. I threw the phone on the other side of the bed to go get some breakfast.

The crash of a metal pot caught my attention. I peeked into the kitchen expecting to see the cook, instead I found Y/n in front of the stove wearing an oversized t-shirt with my last name on the back and her hair in a messy ponytail. My eyes couldn't help but roam the length of her legs. I knew she was wearing shorts, but the length of the shirt made it look like she wasn't. It was like she was my girlfriend wearing one of my t-shirts. My face flushed at the thought. “Shit, my last name looks great on her,” I thought.

"Good morning, birthday boy," she greeted me upon realizing my existence.

"And Mrs. Kim?" I asked her as I looked over to see what she was preparing, pretending that I hadn't spent a good time looking at her. On the stove there was an egg white omelet with spinach, the toaster had a couple of breads and in the blender a green juice.

"I told her to take the day off. I will be your cook today, that will be my birthday gift,” she responded with a smile.

"And this shirt?" I asked pinching the fabric.

"Adidas I sent it to you, but since you don't want it, I kept it,” she answered without further ado.

“Well, she looks better than me,” I thought, looking at her thighs when she wasn’t looking.

While we were having breakfast, the doorbell rang. Y/n went to see who it was, there were 4 delivery men ready to delivery more boxes full of gifts. By winning 2 consecutive championship fights, sponsor gifts tripled. Y/n watched open-mouthed as the gifts continued to accumulate at the entrance. All this was a nuisance.

“More garbage,” I huffed once the mailmen left. “Take care of this," I ordered Y/n before I left to get ready to go to the gym.

"Why me?” she wondered, offended.

"I don't have time to send everything to the gym," I answered without paying attention.

"But I'll be late for training!" She exclaimed annoyed.

"So what? We don’t need you much,” I answered with a mischievous smile, I knew that answer would upset her.

"Sukuna!" She squealed in annoyance once I locked myself in my room.

End of Sukuna’s POV

I made myself a cup of coffee to start opening the boxes and putting the gifts in plastic bags so it would be easier to transport to the gym. I sat on the floor to carefully dissect each box. Backpacks, accessories, and hundreds of special socks for athletes. I felt like a little girl opening presents on a crazy Christmas morning.

I opened a box that felt extremely light. Inside was a small red leather box with the Cartier brand engraved in gold. It seemed to be really expensive. Inside was a thin gold chain with a pendant with the initials “S R” engraved on it. Quickly notice that there was a note taped to the cover. This gift wasn't like the others, it gave off a more personal vibe. My curiosity got the best of me and I opened the note.

"Happy Birthday. I hope you take advantage of this.” -Yuki

"I'm leaving," Sukuna caught my attention.

"Wait!" I exclaimed before he opened the door. If this was a special gift for him, I'll have him wear it. "This bracelet will look great on you," I grabbed his left hand to put it on his veiny wrist.

"I don't like bracelets,” He released his hand from my grip and took it away.

I was going to tell him that it was from someone called Yuki, but when he grabbed my hand, my brain went blank. His large, veined hand held mine, so I wouldn't move it. His fingers brushed my skin and I could barely breathe. My heart was beating a mile an hour and I didn't know how to react.

"It looks better on you," he said before turning the chain so that he could see the initials on it. "Matches with your shirt," He winked at me and disappeared through the door.

He closed the door and left me with my mouth on the floor. Did I dream, imagine or wish it? Sukuna had bewitched me with a spell I didn't know existed. I looked at the thin gold chain decorating my wrist in disbelief. It jingled when I turned it to read and saw the engraving again that shone in the light. Sukuna, what does this mean? I don't want to get hurt again.

Masterlist.

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dont-read-this-im-dead · 3 months

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Could someone who is Catholic/grew up Catholic please explain to me the sin that is divorce?

I mean, you get divorced, and that's a sin, but now you're not allowed to get married again? Are all divorces a sin? If you unknowingly married a serial killer, and you divorced them, would that still make you hell-bound? Or if your spouse likes to play heavyweight boxing champion with you, you have to either die by their hands or go to hell? Are those your only two options?

Why aren't you allowed to remarry? What if you remarried your ex? Would the Catholic church allow that? Or if your ex was a serial killer, but you have 4 children together? They're in prison, you're divorced, and you have to raise your kids alone or go to hell trying to get remarried?

I don't get it.

I grew up in a VERY conservative church, but when it came to marriage and divorce, it was always, marriage is sacred, but your life, and your children's lives are more important." Divorce isn't a sin in the church I grew up in. Looked down on, for sure, but not a sin. A means of survival, I guess you could say.

So could someone explain it to me? Id like to understand.

#Catholic #christianity #Religion #Divorce #Is it a sin?#Is it better to die and go to heaven or stay alive and go to hell?#Real talk

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shallowseeker · 8 months

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Added to this post.

Felt like it was important. Marvelous Marvin was a champion boxer during Dean's childhood (mid- to late 80s)!!!

Marvelous Marvin is also a nod to a Marvelous Marvin Hagler, a middleweight boxing champion and a callback to Dean's psychosexual crush and wrestling interests in Beyond the Mat. As far as angels go, Cas is something of a middleweight champion--not a "heavyweight" archangel, but not a lower-ranking angel either. Ergo, Marvin is also a stand-in for Silvia's unseen love rival.

FYI, this also strengthens my feeling that Dean and Cas may have bought Marvin together for Jack. Cas, because it's his style to buy soft, fluffy things for his loved ones (Claire & Grumpy Cat) and Dean, because he would've kinda wanted it too for the reference to a beloved boxing figure. (Dean was at least along for the ride, and he found it hilarious.)

Cas & Dean also bought Grumpy Cat together, after all. They went to the mall together. Cas is Grumpy Cat, and Claire is also Grumpy Cat. Cas's also Marvin, and Jack is also Marvin (and Dean can be Marvin too, if you like).

I also feel like Marvelous Marvin is a relatively new item in the household, or else we'd have seen it next to the photo of Kelly, combined with Kelly's laptop message, or on Jack's bed. There's a good chance it's also a birthday gift, like Grumpy Cat was.

BONUS: There are red boxing gloves in the Dean-Cave! AU Bobby boxes with Jack in 14x01. Jack dresses like Rocky Bilboa when he's training as a human! (It's the gray sweatsuit of the infamous Gonna Fly Now running scene!)

Dean's the wrestler. Jack's the boxer. I love it.

(Cas gets a cinematic boxing scene too in Purgatory, complete with slow-mo uppercuts. It's right before they get to the rift. Actually, a lot of snippets in season 8 are boxing-like for Cas, such as when he's hard to knock down in the warehouse when they try to save Samandriel. Or even as early as his season 4 fight with Uriel. In several scripts, like Good Intentions, Cas is referred to as "bobbing and weaving," which is a fighting phrase that derives from boxing.)

Anyway, I was delighted to notice these motifs.

ADDENDUM: Realistically, I think Jack may have been present when they bought the bear, and it may have been Dean who originally told the cashier that the bear was, "for his stepson, Ronald," which is an ominous reference to James "Jimmy" Stewart's stepson, Ronald McLean who was famously killed in Vietnam as a Marine.

#jack stuff #marvelous marvin #wrestling is also john adjacent since dean worshipped john growing up #and john took him to see wrestling matches

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vhstown · 9 months

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42!MILES BOXING AU

a wiki-style post — by @vhstown <3

HELLO this is just some extra background info i came up with for the earth-42 boxing au i wrote about in my two-shot fic time out

all of the ideas in this post i came up with by myself! nothing to do with x reader this is just totally nerdy au rambling (how id envision this au in a comic book / fighting shonen etc)

i don't write fighting stories and im not a boxer so soz if any info is unrealistic i just be making this up fr. it's fiction have fun w it!

spoilers for the fic? i guess? i basically just mansplain EVERY little detail cuz i don't have the balls to write a series

a little contents page for your sanity:

KEY FIGURES: Miles G Morales "The Prowler" // Norman Osborn // Harry Osborn "The Green Goblin" // Wilson Fisk "Kingpin" // Adrian Toomes "The Vulture"

THE UNIVERSE AT LARGE: Boxing generations // Sports journalism // Human enhancement and experimentation // Boxing and the criminal underworld

KEY FIGURES

Miles G Morales / "The Prowler"

The big man himself! Started out boxing with his Uncle Aaron after his father's death as a way to cope and get closer to his uncle.

Aaron is pretty well-versed in boxing and likely competed back with the older generation of boxers in Earth 42. Likely fought alongside Miles' dad Jefferson too back in the day and that's why Miles takes particular interest.

Miles' mom is hesitant about letting him go to Las Vegas to compete (drawing parallels from 1610!Rio not wanting Miles to move out of state for college) but eventually gives in.

I think in this case aging up Miles would be appropriate considering he's fighting adults but who says a 15-17 year old can't take on fully grown adults (fiction!!!!)

Miles gains temporary fame after beating "The Vulture" who is an old generation boxer.

Miles wants to make his family proud and also take the opportunity to make money so his mom can live comfortably but obviously that goes wrong because his manager is...

Norman Osborn

One of the sport's big shots. Has a LOT of the industry under his influence and potentially rigs matches?

Miles' first manager — Osborn takes on Miles but later lets him go because he's not "worth" the investment (which has nothing to do with actually winning as you'll see later.)

Involved in illegal human enhancement and experimentation, particularly on:

Harry Osborn / "The Green Goblin"

The boxer that takes out Miles in one punch and gets Miles' contract nullified

No consistent fighting style, flimsy and appearing to be nothing like an actual boxer but his win streak is building like no other boxer.

He's juiced up on something 😭 This is one of the main plot points of the AU where boxers and other athletes are being experimented on to acquire "superhuman" qualities. Norman is basically experimenting on his own son (for reasons maybe similar to the canon Green Goblin? Perhaps because his son wanted to be a boxer but couldn't because of a degenerative disease.)

Motivation for Miles would be to fight him again but obviously he can't immediately after losing so he has to build up his wins again and so he goes to:

Wilson Fisk / "Kingpin"

Ex heavyweight boxer and champion, probably an older generation of boxers that came before all the experimental stuff and is now a manager and big-shot and rivals with Norman.

His main thing is rigging matches and earning money through betting systems that only he profits from.

Used to manage "The Vulture" who left his contract after being beaten by Miles.

Miles goes under a contract with him after Fisk takes an interest in his win against The Vulture, and now he's masked boxer (which is pretty uncommon I heard so he sticks out and becomes popular again pretty fast) with the ring name "the Prowler"

Miles very quickly realises that Fisk is shady and he decides to break through the rigged matches that he's meant to lose and win anyway which only builds his popularity and the people betting on him.

Fisk sees opportunity in this and decides to let Miles do his own thing so that he can take down his rival Norman Osborn when Miles finally fights against The Green Goblin again.

Adrian Toomes / "The Vulture"

Long-time boxer with an unbeatable win streak, lightweight champion. By the time Miles is fighting him he's on the brink of retirement but stubbornly fights him anyway only to lose.

More of a minor villain at the start however after being let go by Fisk he turns to Norman Osborn and his experimental technology to make a come back and hopefully face off with Miles Morales again.

THE UNIVERSE AT LARGE

A quick note on "generations" of boxers

Old generation = Aaron's boxing era, prime time to be a boxer more about the sport less about the money, fame, etc.

New/second generation = Includes the Sinister Six and experimental work and crime and the whole shebang. Miles experiences boxing through this generation.

Sports journalism

The Bugle is not only a source of everyday news but they have a department dedicated solely to sports journalism!

In my fic MJ is the one who reports on Miles' win however there's definitely Gwen Stacy potential! A rookie journalist doing an internship at the Bugle and might help out Miles on his boxing endeavours (or you could sneak in an x journalist!reader if you're cheeky.)

If you wanted to take a more classic Gwen route you'd probably involve her in the next thing which is:

Human enhancement and experimentation

Oscorp in some capacity would exist in this universe, likely using the front of a company that supports athletes and their development with their technology.

Osborn uses the company's power and tech to fuel the regeneration of his son Harry Osborn and puts him into boxing (as Harry wanted.)

This technology eventually branches out into other boxers in a new-generation of genetically modified boxers — also the opponents that Miles would have to fight, likely in the form of the Sinister Six (including The Vulture.)

All of the experimentations have weaknesses to them that Miles can take advantage of (e.g. The Green Goblin is only a threat if he can land a hit.)

Boxing and the criminal underworld

Miles Morales soon realises that boxing and the sports world in general is just a massive front for criminal activity.

As he fights more and more matches under Fisk he realises the true extent of not only Fisk's world but the entirety of the boxing world in this "second generation" of boxers.

Aaron quit boxing for this exact reason and him and Miles eventually work together to take it down.

Potential for Miles to be the regular Prowler here? It's pretty much open-ended so he could be written as a vigilante with his usual gear or as a fists-only fighting shonen protagonist.

May include some link as to why Miles' father died? I kept it pretty ambiguous in my fic so he could be a police officer or ex-boxer or whatever you'd like — point is, his father's death motivates Miles to take over the boxing sphere!

a note from me

hello hello this is vee! amateur writer and even more amateur athlete (im not an athlete at all 😭)

this is just a post of my personal ideas, again none of this is canon i just put a lil spin on the original villains

if you're going to write this please tag me because id love to see!!!!!!!! even if it's not related to anything in this post AT ALL if you write or draw anything to do with boxer miles please tag me i am Starving

none of these ideas are very refined and open to change / adaptation! feel free to tack on your own ideas too

i highly doubt anybody's read this but if you did i appreciate u 😭🙏

MAKE MORE ATSV AUS PLEASE (frothing at the mouth)

ill edit or reblog this with any other ideas i might have so this is subject to change i guess <3 have a good one

#vee rants #vhstown #miles g morales #miles gonzalo morales #prowler miles #miles 42 #spiderman atsv #atsv #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #atsv fanfiction #spider man: across the spider verse #atsv au

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bits-and-babs · 2 years

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Stitch Up || Frank Castle x Reader

-> Rating: 18+

-> Word Count: 4.5k

-> Years of working with up and coming heavyweight boxing world champion hopeful Frank Castle all builds up to one night.

CW/TW: Boxer!Frank x Cutman!reader. Boxing (duh), mentions of injury, mentions of violence. P in V sex, unprotected sex. Relatively tame for me but I’m easing back into writing! Not proof read. Special tag to @bernthalus-christ and @darlingshane for being the two blogs my friend consistently sent me posts of to help me fall in love with Jon 🥺❤️

The brutality of fighting is that a loss isn’t your only beat down. It’s the rejection that follows, your name falling down the ranks, the rejected fight opportunities, the loss of respect. Working in the fighting industry and even as a fan, you have witnessed many incredible fighters reach unbelievable heights, only to plummet through the ranks and hit the canvas so hard that it shifts their entire career.

Frank Castle though? He was on the up and up, consistently winning his bouts within the first five rounds. Didn’t matter if he faced fighters with more experience or Goliath opponents that far outweighed him in every category from height to reach advantage, his sheer resilience and bull-like stubbornness meant he refused to hit the canvas. It was a sight to behold, something you had never seen in all your years in the industry.

However, facing off against such formidable fighters meant that Frank often walked out of the ring looking as mangled as a car in a high speed accident. Busted lips, black eyes swollen to the size of small lemons, cuts above his brow that would bleed into his eyes. No matter the injury, Frank pushed through and finished each and every opponent.

Watching the team work to lace up his gloves, Frank stands utterly still. He’s poised, face steady despite the roaring of the fans in the arena and the thumping bass on the speakers. His hair is cropped shorter than usual, a decision he had taken upon your orders. Tonight’s rival was a heavy hitter, someone who often caused significant damage, so you had insisted Frank cut his hair so you didn’t miss any significant splits to his upper forehead or sides of his skull. Despite how odd he looks without his longer, dark locks you find it suits him quite nicely like this. It shows off the intensity of the bone structure of his face better, you think. Draws attention to the deep brown of his tired eyes and the arch of his Cupid’s bow. There was no saving that nose though… That was a boxer’s nose.

“He’s all yours,” Coach calls to you, and you suddenly come back into your body, hyper aware that you’ve been gazing at Frank like some sappy rom-com scene. Stumbling over air as Frank approaches you, you snatch up the petroleum jelly from the table you’re sat by to begin preparing him for the fight.

“You good, doc?” He questions gruffly, using his name for you. You’re no doctor, just a Cutman, but one day you joked that Frank’s scars healed so well you should enter medical school and the name just… stuck. It always made you feel quite special. No one else had a nickname.

“Mhmm-hm!” You hum, a little too enthusiastically as you scoop the viscous gel onto your fingertips and reach up to swipe it over his face. You start out with his brow bones, the place his skin tends to split most. His eyes close, long lashes fluttering as you move to sweep it over his brow hairs. You hate being this close to him. Hate being able to see all the tiny, silver scars that evidence all the years you’d spent patching him up again. You recall them all, like the way you’d giggled when you stitched up the large cut across his temple while he rambled on about how ’dense’ the judges were to score round 7 of his fight in Dubai 8-10 in favour of his opponent just because Frank had slipped on the blood slick floor of the canvas.

Delicately, you brush the jelly over the expanse of his warm forehead as you chewed nervously on your lip. You know his eyes are open again, can feel his intimidating stare set hard on your expression.

“How are you feeling?” You ask him with a shaky breath as you drag the gel down his temples and over his cheekbones.

“Goddamn, you a shrink too, Doc?” He muses, a smirk playing on his lips that has you letting out a nervous laugh. It’s not often he’s in this mood before a fight. Usually he doesn’t want to entertain your pointless questions. It must mean he felt confident.

“I’m a woman of many talents,” you answer back jokingly, looking at him through your lashes. He’s got this spark in his eye, adrenaline surging before he had the living shit beaten out of him. You give him a playful, pointed look. “Just don’t make me work overtime by coming back to me a mess at the end of this, alright?”

“Yes Ma’am,” he murmurs, his voice a little quieter than usual, softer despite his gravelly tone. It makes goosebumps raise on your arms, makes your stomach flip. His eyes assess your own for a moment while you finish swiping the jelly across his jaw before flicking down to the curve of your lips and back up to your irises. It’s a split second, but you see it. God, you see it.

“Alright Punisher!” Coach calls out to him using his stage name now, causing him to break eye contact with you. You inhale sharply, not even noticing that you’d stopped breathing until you feel the burning in your lungs. “Let’s go.”

Frank wastes no time in stepping back from you, rolling his shoulders as he approaches the doors to the arena. Grabbing your medical kit despite your lightheadedness, you’re quick to follow behind him, keeping your eyes set on the rippling muscles of his bare back while the crowd erupts at the sight of the underdog approaching the ring to the thumping drums of Johnny Cash’s “God’s Gonna Cut You Down.”

____________________________________________

Bright flashes of Canon cameras worth more than your kidney capture the moment Frank’s opponent slams into the canvas so hard you swear you can feel the ground shake. The referee waves his arms wildly to call off the approaching Frank, and the team leap from their stools and clamber into the ring screaming in joy. Your face hurts from smiling too much already, having known by round three it was only a matter of time.

Coach raises Frank’s blood smeared gloved hands into the air as the stadium audience cheers. It’s deafening, much louder than any of your previous events, proving Frank was reaching new heights. You pick up your medical supplies, knowing he had to come to you for a check up before the official announcement. He seems to realise it at the same time as you, looking over his shoulder and catching your eye despite the deep cuts in his eyebrows leaking blood into his vision.

Stumbling over through the overly excited crowd in the ring made up of team members, sponsors, event management and the like, Frank makes his way towards you for his assessment. You smile wide, so wide you swear you pull a muscle in your cheek when you see his own lips twitch up in a smile.

“You good?!” He shouts over the clamour of the crowd, and you laugh weakly at him, shaking your head slightly as you take his chin in your palm. You take ahold of your pen torch to shine the light in his eyes and check for a concussion.

“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to say?” You call back, watching both of his eyes dilate as they should, much to your relief. Discarding the pen in your pocket, you grab more petroleum jelly and scoop some onto your gloved fingers.

Frank watches your fingertips sweep through the viscous material before looking back up to your face. “Decided I’d try a hand at your job,” he answers, and you can’t help but giggle.

“I think you should keep your hands in an area you clearly excel at,” you muse, looking up at him through your lashes and gesturing towards the ring with a tilt of your head while packing his eyebrow wounds so they stop leaking into his eyes while the announcement is made. You finish up as quickly as you can despite your shaking hands, knowing that the referee is waiting for you to give the all clear. It’s just so hard not to get distracted by the way droplets of sweat slipped down the valley of his pecs and across his sternum.

When you finally give the thumbs up to confirm he is free to go, Frank is quick to take ahold of your forearm and lean into your ear. “See you in the break room, yea?” When he pulls away to see your answer, you stare up at him with what you can only assume is a dumbstruck expression. He doesn’t look as though he requires any significant medical attention. You nod quickly, however, and Frank turns away for the official announcement of the winner, leaving you utterly at a loss.

Watching the referee take ahold of Frank’s wrist to await the officiaters call makes your heart hammer against your sternum- or was that thanks to Frank whispering in your ear? Your mind is spinning, the crowd drowned out by the speakers now.

“Ladies and gentlemen, at the end of round number five referee Kenny Bayless has called a stop to this contest. By way of knockout, the new undisputed heavyweight champion of the world, ‘The Punisher’ Frank Castle!”

The crowd erupts as the belt is draped over Frank’s waist, his hand raised by the referee to signal his victory to the masses. Frank’s smiling. Smiling wider than you’ve ever seen him smile. It’s odd to see him so happy, but he wears it well- just as he wears the belt as though it was made for him. It’s a bizarre thought, but you can’t help but note that the gold of the decorative buckle suits his skin quite nicely.

Pushing through the crowds as the interviews begin, you hear the gruff tone of Frank’s voice over the speakers thanking the fans for coming out and crediting the win to his team. The cheers of the crowd are so loud that you can still hear them even as the doors to the back rooms close behind you. Your ears buzz from the sudden drop in volume and you settle on the sofa in an attempt to bring yourself down from the adrenaline high you had been riding for the past three days.

The comedown from fight nights felt like a bus plummeting from the top of a cliff. All the build up to support Frank and working to ensure everything was perfect for him so he could fight at his peak ability. If the crash felt so significant for you, it was hard to imagine how it must feel for him. To go from focusing all your energy on the most important night of his life to hanging in a suspended state of anticipation awaiting the next fight contract must be so jarring.

The tug of the medical gloves against your skin as you pull them from your hands brings you back to reality. Crimson streaks of Frank’s blood stains the blue latex. You had been nervous when the gash had opened up halfway through round two. Against his brow bone, the blood has poured into his eyes and effectively blinded him. Still, he’d managed to guard against the onslaught of punches for the other half of the round to survive until you were able to aid him by packing the wound with so much jelly that you swore there’d be a world shortage.

“You look like you’ve just gone twelve rounds,” Frank's gruff voice sounds from the door, causing your head to snap up quickly from where it had been resting on the sofa. He’s smirking, belt still settled on his waist and a curved rim cap atop his head to hide the excessive facial bruising he always gets after a bout. He tends to grow his beard out to hide as many of the purple marks as he can.

“No,” you correct him, sitting up properly, “No, you look as though you’ve gone twelve rounds, I just feel like I have.” His laugh that he returns makes your lips stretch into a smile. He sets his energy drink and stained boxing gloves down on the table while he approaches you.

“Oh yea? Was only five rounds though, wasn’t it?” He muses, smug expressions causing you to roll your eyes playfully. His next sentence, though, catches you completely off guard. “You worried about me or somethin’?”

You must have looked like some comical, realistic version of Edvard Munch’s ‘The Scream’ thanks to the way your jaw nearly dropped from its hinges. Panic rose in your chest as you shook your head quickly. Fuck-

“N-No! No, I always knew you’d win! The cut just looked really nasty-“

“Had worse,” he points out calmly, settling beside you on the sofa with a groan. You swear that him breaking a sweat in the ring meant he was lacing the oxygen you shared with pheromones, because there’s no way you should feel this horny with him at this proximity.

“W-Well, yes but it was more that you couldn’t see…” you trail off, stumbling over your words as though your lips and tongue had gone numb when you feel his knee brush yours when he spreads his thighs to get comfortable, his head tilting back as he listened to you fumble for an explanation.

Quiet settles between the two of you, the only sound you can hear over the deafening thumping of your blood rushing through your ears being the soft breathing of Frank beside you, gazing up at the ceiling. He appears to be thinking, considering the best way to respond to your poor attempt at a reasonable explanation.

Finally, he turns his head towards you, deep brown irises flitting over your face and taking in the panicked expression it held. Had you not already been in such a nervous state, you probably wouldn’t have noticed the way he slowly moved his arm across the back of the sofa to settle directly behind your neck.

“‘S nice,” he murmurs, voice so gravelly in a whisper that you can barely tell what it is he’s saying. “Nice that you worry.”

Swallowing weakly, you break his gaze to glance down at the belt on his waist, chewing the inside of your cheek. “Mhmm. It’s what medical professionals do during a fight. Worry.”

Quiet again, but this time your hearing nearly gives out altogether when you feel the tips of his fingers brush at the nape of your neck, pushing ever so slightly into the hair at the base of your neck. It’s like your body forgets every single one of its bodily functions, frozen in place.

“That the only reason you’re worryin’?” He murmurs, as though he’s almost disappointed to hear it. You can’t even process what’s happening thanks to his touch, can’t comprehend what he’s implying. Frank never so much as hugs anyone after a fight, this is totally out of character for him.

Finally you look back up at him in shock to find he’s giving you a pointed look. It’s like he can read you like an open book, can sense your nerves. It’s not hard, despite your best efforts to conceal it your breathing is so ragged it’s like you’ve run a marathon up Everest without an oxygen tank.

Fuck, the tension crackles between you. He’s eyeing you cautiously but you can feel he wants to close the gap between the two of you from how tense he seems. You exhale slowly, trying to expel the tension you’re feeling in your chest as he slowly begins to lean forward.

You’re not sure if he’s just relieved to have won, if he’s delirious from his own adrenaline high or has a concussion that you somehow magically failed to notice, but he leans in slowly and captures your lips in a kiss that has your body practically curling inwards in surprise. It’s so much all at once, the salty scent of his sweat, the brush of his stubble against your chin and the feeling of his hand slotting just perfectly beneath your jaw as he holds your face in place with a gentle grip.

It’s slightly clunky at first, your mind taking a second to overcome the disbelief before you’re able to kiss him back in earnest, but once you start you can’t stop. You’d craved this moment over the years you’d been working with him, so caught up in your desire that you never even noticed or even considered that maybe he wanted it too.

“You good?” He checks in with you, murmuring against your lips. You nod quickly, nose bumping against his as you do before pressing your lips to his again with more urgency. You’re not sure how the desperation manages to break free from the modesty you’re trying to keep, but Frank returns your neediness in earnest, the intensity of the kiss rising as his tongue swipes across your lower lip.

Soon it’s messy, his tongue sliding against the flat of your own. You can taste the iron of blood from where his lip got cut in the fight early on. His teeth gently sink into the meat of your own, pulling away slightly and pulling the flesh of your lip along with him. It makes a whine bubble in your throat before you can stop it.

You don’t have any time to be embarrassed, the sound causing Frank to get a little more handsy. He’s pawing at your waist, your hips, lips moving to your ear to whisper words of encouragement. “That’s it, pretty girl. Wanna hear you do that again, can you do that again?”

It doesn’t take much, the slight pain of him sinking his teeth into your earlobe before sucking gently is enough to force you to fulfil his request.

He hums quietly in approval, palm spreading across your throat as his other hand takes ahold of your upper thigh to shift your body under his. You don’t argue, don’t tell him to stop, so with one strong lift he has your hips shifting down the sofa beneath his own so your back lays against it. You gaze up at him, noting the way he glances over your face and body with hooded eyes, equally as enthralled by you as you are with him.

“Mhmm, you’re so strong,” you whisper mindlessly, drunk on the kisses he had been spoiling you with. A soft chuckle sounds from his throat as he leans down and kisses the side of your neck. His stubble scratches the soft skin and his fingers knead the flesh of your thigh gently as he teases you with the wet kisses against your jugular. Your fingertips rest on his spine, tracing the vertebrae poking through his bare back.

Once again he has his palm across your throat, his thumb tucked under your jaw on one side of your neck, fingertips on the other. When he brings his lips back to your mouth and steals the air from your lungs with a bruising kiss, he squeezes, causing you to keen a breathless whine.

“That good, baby?” He asks you, knowing damn well he’s got you so worked up that you can’t form enough of a coherent sentence to answer his relatively simple question. “That makin’ you feel good?”

God it is. It is and you’re losing your mind. It’s made even worse by the fact you can feel Frank's erection press into your thigh through the black, silk material of his boxing shorts. They have ‘The Punisher’ embroidered into the runched, elasticated waistband, and you can’t help the way your brain immediately starts running away with itself, silently begging him to punish me!

It’s enough to push you over the edge, to lift your hips up and grind your clothed cunt into the length of his cock. You see it in his eyes, the way it damn near makes him rip the cushions of the sofa with the way he grips the material. His jaw goes slack, eyes flicking down to watch your hips move up into him before he’s fumbling with the zipper of your jeans.

The action alone has you whimpering softly, tilting your head back in frustration that he’s not slipping inside of you now. He hushes you softly, half-mindedly murmuring that he’s there. That he’s got you. After a struggle, he managed to pop the button on your waistband open, grabbing onto the loose denim and yanking it over the meat of your thighs. The force he uses jolts your body down suddenly, and you can’t help but let out a surprised laugh. You’re so taken aback that it’s a few moments before you realise he’s pulled your cotton panties down with them.

Thank God he did. Saves you the embarrassment of seeing you in anything but the lacey number you always wanted him to undress you from. It’s not as though you’d even imagined being fucked by him on the sofa in the break room this evening…

The brush of his lips against your hip bone, the press of the tip of his nose into your lower abdomen has you digging your heels into the sofa, chasing more. You blindly grab at the waistband of his shorts, but Frank hushes you again, trying to settle your desperation. It only causes tears of frustration to well in your eyes.

He’s kind enough to not keep you waiting long. Or maybe he just can’t help himself when you lazily spread your thighs wide for him, but he’s already working his shorts over his hips, his hard, thick cock springing free from the elasticated waistband. He’s so pretty, flushed and veiny with a little upwards curve to him. A pink tip.

“The belt stays on,” you whisper. You’re not quite sure where the confidence comes from, but the surge of euphoria you feel when Frank utters a breathy *fuck* in response feels almost as good as an orgasm, the end of the word a little pitchier than the start. It makes him settle his hips between your thighs, notching his pretty, pink, weeping tip against your entrance.

He wastes no time, slipping into you at a steady pace. You’re so fucking wet that he faces barely any resistance at all, his upper lip curling as he just slips right into your heat. “Attagirl,” he whispered, voice ragged, “Take me just like that.”

Stretching you open, his cock stuffing you full has your eyes rolling back into your head, loose fists hitting at his chest weakly as you’re overcome with the bliss it causes. Your toes curl, thighs squeezing at his waist as your heels settle on his lower back. You can feel him twitch inside you, the motion causing the head of his dick to push up against something mind-meltingly good inside of you.

The sight of your eyes rolling back into your skull has him jump-starting, rocking into you with all the energy he has left after the fight. It’s not bruising like you’d expected. No, it’s targeted. He’s found the place that makes you feel good, and he concentrates all of his focus there. It has you whining his name in seconds, has you digging your nails into the flesh of his forearms.

“Mhmm-hmm,” he hums shakily, feeling your walls clench around his cock, “That’s it right there isn’ it?” It is. It is and he’s fucking torturing you with it. He rolls his hips up into you and you're sobbing out, actually crying at how good it feels. He murmurs to himself, Jesus Christ, taken aback by how fucking beautiful you look taking his dick like this. His eyes are trained on your pussy, watching himself glide in and out with such ease, your creamy white cunt paining the angry red of his cock.

“Goddamnit- fuck, pretty baby,” he whispered, voice strung out as you clench around his thickness again. He can feel it coming. Can feel the way the muscles tighten so much against his waist. His fingers work their way between your thighs, calloused fingertips rubbing tight little circles over your sensitive clit to draw out those contractions, to cause white hot need to flush down your lower back and thighs.

“Fr-Frank-“ you hiccup, seeing double when you look up at him through teary eyes, “M’Gunna cum-“

“Already?” He muses, without a hint of malice. He likes that he can reduce you to this mess so simply. Loves it. He speeds you towards it even quicker, fucking hurls you over the edge when the flat of his palm pushes down on your lower abdomen so hard that he can feel himself fuck you through your stomach.

His groan of “shiiit” sends you tumbling, causes the white-hot pleasure to surge so suddenly that you go blind, body crumpling inwards and practically lifting from the sofa with it. Your nails dig into his skin so hard they draw blood, his resulting hiss just barely reaching your ears over the orgasm-induced static that dominates your hearing.

“Fra-Hah-“ you slur, unable to get the words out as your head drops back against the sofa again as he steadies his hips so as to not overstimulate you to the point of discomfort. It takes you a while to gain your breath back, to regain the ability to speak in coherent sentences. Even when you do, all you can manage is a- “Thank you~”

“Mhmm… Least I can do for my loyal Cutman,” he murmurs into your ear with that same gravelly tone that vibrates down your spine, pressing gentle, wet kisses to your temple and hairline to ease you down from the extreme high he’s driven you to.

“Hah,” you giggle weakly, turning your head to the side to capture his chocolate gaze. He’s so pretty like this, even all battered and bruised with a busted lip, crooked nose-bridge and black eye the shade of midnight he’s still so pretty. “Champion of the World still gotta take his prize.”

“Mhmmm, fuck.”

END

Authors note: thank you all for being so patient with me. It isn’t my best work, but I gotta break the rut somehow!

🏷 @polaroidpetal @foxilayde @mylifeisactuallyamess @bookfrog242 @wh0reforbucknasty @crystalchrysalis19 @zakizigekwe @ahookedheroespureheart @buckys-other-punk @anxious-sappho @youngr0se95 @alexloveskili @captainrexstan @astroboots @knights-power @southcrnbelle @niallsbunny @wakers-bonkers @ofmortems @hold-our-destiny @xcatnapsx @vermillionwinter @stormkobra-5 @bb-skyrunner @silvery-luna @sebsbelova @Erenbissexual @alwritey-aphrodite @maggotzombie @deadpige0n @bakerstreethound @whatthehekko @moonnaught @cottagebunny9 @strangunddurm

#Frank Castle #Frank castle x reader #Frank castle x reader smut #Frank castle smut #jon bernthal #jon bernthal x reader #Jon Bernthal smut #Frank castle x you #Frank castle x you smut #frank castle x female reader #Frank castle x female! reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader #the punisher x you #the punisher smut

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mediocreshake08 · 5 months

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Mmmmm BLU team headcanons/lore...

Scout: one of Scout's brothers, because somewhere, its said our Scout has 6 older siblings, as he could have the same mother as Scout which is implied in "Meet the Spy"

Solider: was actually quallified in the army and even finnished academy, but left a war ended, and could have an actual name that isnt "unidentified female corps" like our Solider

Pyro: after (or during the comics) when all the other mercs were fired, Pyro moved in with his teams Engineer who realized that only he had pyrovision because of his goggles. After several hours of reconsiliation, Pyro has demoted himself to a life without violence, and became an exterminator to help pay their rent.

Demoman: scored a job at a company deducated to keeping earth's energy uses as stable as possible, something like a company named GRN or something

Heavy: he joined the international boxing league and became a heavyweight champion. After several title fights, he decided to retire from his position as heavyweight champ and went to spend time with his family.

Engineer: after being fired, he realized he was running low on money. So he decided to get an apartment in New York and make a debut album. Eventually, Pyro found Engie, helped him pay the rent, made the album and released it to the Public. The album, "Pybros in Arms" made millions and the two were so happy with the results

Medic: moved back into Germany and actually finnished academy and did get a medical license to become a real surgeon. Using the Quick Fix to invent in a whole new method of healing. He even got interviews with several big reporters around the world.

Sniper: The Aussie went to an excavation site, where he locates a chunk of australium, the last piece on earth, for real this time. He learns that it can be used to power life extending devices. He knows that he can't hold on to it forever, so he locates the current location of the Engineer, he takes his huntsman and attaches the piece of australium on to and arrow with a note that says: "From BLU to RED". He shoots it, it reaches the balcony, and hence the last, small piece of australium in Engie's hand in issue 6.

Spy:

Yeah i had nothing for Spy lol

Uh...

Went to France and eats a grilled cheese?

#tf2 #team fortess 2 #blu team #tf2 scout #tf2 solider #tf2 pyro #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #humor

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dailynnt · 10 months

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A SOBER DRIVER FOR JEON JUNGKOOK

Pairing: Jungkook with Woman!Reader Characters: Jung Jungkook, Reader, Kim Taehyung, Park Jimin (these two will only be moments) Rating: 18+ Orientation: ⚤ Get Number of words: 10,765 Size: Considered Mini. But I plan to make a series out of it. Tags: everyday life, male-female friendship, childhood friends, unrequited feelings (only the main character thinks so), alcohol, drunkenness, night club, professional boxer Jungkook, journalist, virgin main character, first time, obscenity, dirty talk, penetration , passionate kisses, drunken sex, unprotected sex. Warning: My story contains explicit scenes. Please do not read to those under 18. A/N: You and Jungkook were childhood friends. You studied at the same school and spent a lot of time together. But when you both went to university, you lost touch for a while. One day, on the eve of Choseok, Jungkook offers to meet. After this meeting, you realize that you have fallen in love with your best friend. Because after several years of no communication, Jungkook has changed and become very attractive in every way. The plot will tell about the case when Jungkook and his friends go to a night club to relax, he calls you drunk and offers to join them. This is a very tempting offer for you. From the author: Hello everyone. I want to say that this idea was in my head for a long time. The idea that Jungkook and Reader are best friends and she becomes his sober driver one night. I tried to describe her in different situations, but the only thing I came up with is what is described in this story. I am very worried because I am not very good at writing. By the way, please note that English is not my native language. If there are any inaccuracies or grammatical errors, please don't get mad at me and indulge me. Please let me know what part of my story you liked or should I continue? Dedication: I dedicate this work to my twin sister Mariam. Although her bias is Jimin, she was very supportive of me while working on this story. Therefore, all the love of this story to her!

You desperately wanted a rest. When you finished taking a bath, you felt that you had washed off all the burden of today. Anxiety, anger and fatigue followed the stream of water that flowed down your body. For some reason, today was a difficult day at work.

You changed into your pajamas of a tank top and shorts. It was hot in the apartment, so you wanted to wear as few clothes as possible, despite the air conditioner being on.

It was about 21 degrees Celsius outside. The pleasant moderate temperature outside made this night perfect for walking or partying but you didn't want that. A small desire was still in your soul, but fatigue got the better of you. You just wanted to sleep.

Tomorrow is your day off, you had planned to get a good night's sleep and see your girlfriends, but someone had other plans for you.

You went to bed. The soft mattress pleasantly supported your body, which created a feeling of weightlessness. You picked up your phone and opened Instagram.

The first thing that caught your eye was Jungkook's storis. She was the first, followed by Jimin's stories and third was Taehyung's storis. The thought "All is in the assembly" flashed through my head. They must be walking somewhere!". Opening the first story, namely Jungkook, you only confirmed your thoughts. The neon colors of the nightclub lit up on the screen, Jimin and Taehyung flashed on the video. You smiled. You would like to be with them. The feeling of butterflies appeared in the stomach again. It always occurred to you when you saw Jungkook.

Jungkook was your best friend that you knew since childhood. You went to school together and your houses were next to each other. After school, you moved to Seoul to study journalism. Jungkook also moved to Seoul, he entered a sports university where he began to engage in professional boxing. Jungkook is currently the light heavyweight Olympic boxing champion.

When you were in university, your friendship with Jungkook was somewhat on hold. In the first six months of school, you called each other and texted each other and sometimes you could meet, but over time you and Jungkook had less and less time to talk and by the end of your studies, your communication with Jungkook came down wishes to birthday and different holidays. This lasted for several years.

After you finished your studies, you found a job and started working as a journalist.

You remembered how your friendly relations were restored.

Last year, just the day before Choseok, you received a New Year's text from Jungkook. There was no end to your happiness, because you were usually the first to write greetings for your friend, and he only wrote short but very sincere greetings in return. So, text by text, you agreed to meet before the Choseok celebration itself. Jungkook wrote that he missed you very much and would like to see you.

Something warm settled in your chest after those words of your best friend. You agreed to the meeting and were looking forward to it. In the evening, you met in a cozy cafe near your apartment. Jungkook suggested that you choose a place closest to your home so that it would be easier for you to get there. Your friend was not always so caring, so you already knew that this meeting might show you one day your best friend is a different person.

And so it really happened. When you saw Jungkook for the first time in two years, you couldn't believe your eyes. He became muscular and manly. His hair was short and neatly styled. There was no hint of the terrible pot he wore in high school. There was a piercing on the eyebrow and lip, which was very noticeable. He suited him very well. Jungkook also had a tattoo all over his arm. And it made you think that you never thought that Jungkook liked this kind of thing. However, you really liked Jungkook's whole look.

That's when you unconsciously fell in love with your best friend. It was the worst thing you could have done.

You remember how that evening you felt embarrassed in front of your friend when he told some joke that was more like flirting, but you probably could have made it up. So you're embarrassed because your once normal best friend has become the hottest man in the world.

You thought that he must have a girlfriend. But in a conversation about his personal life, Jungkook admitted that he doesn't have anyone, but if he needs a woman, he has no problem with that.

"Connection on the one night? You are disgusting Jeon Jungkook" You said then.

When asked if you have someone, you answered that you did not have any relationship. You quickly made an excuse that work took up all your time. Jungkook laughed at you.

"Really, Y/N so you're still virgin?" His sincere smile made him even more beautiful and your complexion even redder.

“Jeon Jungkook you are ass. This is not a very correct question!" You were annoyed. He can't ask you that.

"Why is it inappropriate?" He laughed. "We are best friends. You can tell me everything."

"So best friends." You said not without a touch of sarcasm. "We last saw each other several years ago. I even forgot what your voice sounds like." Jungkook stopped laughing. He suddenly became serious.

"But stop it. You can really tell me. What's wrong with the fact that you're still virgin?" Jungkook smiled lightly, as if inviting to tell him his personal story.

"Well..." you drawled, collecting your thoughts. "I really didn't have time to date. There were several, but they were completely unsuccessful. Therefore, it turns out that it is so. I am virgin." Your heart was pounding, and there was a noise in your ears. You didn't understand why you felt that way. Jungkook is your best friend, you shouldn't act like that in front of him. But two years of not communicating made themselves felt. For some reason, you couldn't think of Jungkook as a friend because you liked him. In the middle there was a complete feeling that you are on a date and not at a friendly meeting. Your mouth was dry from excitement, you took a cup of aromatic cocoa and took a few sips.

While you were trying to calm yourself down, you didn't pay attention to Jungkook who was looking at you with interest. You didn't notice the spark that flashed in his eyes.

"Oh," Jungkook said. "I would have never thought that a girl like you is still going around without a boyfriend and is even virgin." He giggled.

"Jungkook don't talk so loud!" - you hissed. You would not want the whole cafe to know that you are a virgin.

"Then how are we going to find you a boyfriend?" Jungkook joked.

In the end, your meeting in front of Choseok ended with you celebrating the New Year with Jungkook and his friends together. That's when he introduced you to Jimin and Taehyung.

And now for more than half a year, the four of you often spend time together. But today they are without you, because your boss dumped a lot of work on you.

You looked at the stories of the boys. You scrolled through the feed of the social network, and at some point it became boring so you blocked the phone. Putting it on the bedside table, you tried to fall asleep.

Thoughts of Jungkook immediately filled you’re head. He was in your thoughts almost every day since that meeting in front of Choseok. You couldn't shake the thought that the more time you spend with him, the stronger your feelings for him become.

As for his behavior, it was not unambiguous. He treated you with care, but it was only on a friendly basis. In half a year of new "friendly relations", Jungkook has not once shown you anything romantic. And you were afraid to confess to him. Losing a friendship because of your stupid feelings, what could be worse? But you couldn't help but think that you were literally going crazy. This cannot go on forever. Better to stay friends. You should find someone else to forget Jungkook. Why do feelings for him grow exponentially?

You knew the answer to this question better than anyone else. Jungkook was the perfect man for you in every way. The fact that he was hot on the outside is not even discussed. His body seems to have been created by God himself. You even liked his voice. You especially loved it when Jungkook sang. That's how he could sing. You thought that if he hadn't started boxing, he could have become a popular idol.

Jungkook was very attentive and caring towards you. You were nauseous just thinking that if he is so caring with you, then what is he like in a relationship? Jungkook had all the qualities of a real man and you couldn't help but like it.

But there was something that still worried you about Jungkook, and that was his attitude towards serious relationships. He was not interested in them (this was one of the reasons why you would never confess your feelings to him). Often when were you with Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung you all spent time together, Jungkook would brag about the number of girls who had been in his bed in a week. You felt terrible then, but you tried not to show everyone that you were not happy. The last time when your best friend started talking about his bed achievements, you carefully pretended that you needed to leave, for example, to get a drink, or to get a cup of tea, or to go to the toilet and things like that. Hearing how many women Jungkook had was unbearable.

Thinking of your friend and your unrequited feelings, you didn't immediately hear a notification on your phone. When probably 5 messages arrived, you grabbed the gadget.

22.40. Jungkook-ah 🥊: "Hello, My Heart one. You're awake?"

23.43. Jungkook-ah 🥊: "Hey My Heart one, don't you want to join us? I saw that you were watching our stories with the boys 😉"

23.44. Jungkook-ah 🥊: "Hey!! Why are you ignoring me? You couldn't fall asleep so quickly 😤"

23.45. Jungkook-ah 🥊: "Dear!! Come to us with the boys. Jimin is really asking me to persuade you to come"

23.47. Jimin-shi😈: “Actually Y/N I think you should come over because Jungkook is talking about you all night 😏🤫”

Your eyes will increase from the number of SMS from friends. Jungkook's "Heart ones" hit the very in your heart, so you felt the butterflies in your stomach again. You opened Jungkook's message to reply as his name flashed on the screen.

23. 50. Jungkook-ah 🥊 (incoming call)

"Hello" You picked up the phone. Your palms were instantly sweaty.

"Hello My Heart ones. You're awake?" Jungkook's voice was deep and lazy. He chuckled lightly. It seems he was drunk.

"I'm not sleeping Jungkook" You say kindly.

"You saw I wrote to you. Come to us. I miss you and we will have more fun."

"But aren't you already having fun without me?" You asked with a smile. Jungkook sensed your sarcasm and laughed too.

"Hahaha, we're really having fun, but if you came, it was really merriment." In the background you could hear music and sounds of cars. Jungkook must have gone outside to call you.

"Merriment?!" You repeated laughing. "I will never believe that you can't get gaiety without me? Jungkook, I already took a bath and in bed. Do you think I'll want to get out of it after a very hard day?"

“Oh Y/N did you have a bad day? Then you should definitely come to us!"

"Yes, but..." You didn't have time to finish as Jungkook suddenly asked.

"Hey wait did you say you're in bed now?" You heard Jungkook's deep voice.

"Yes"

"How can you lie in bed alone?

"So what?"

"Wouldn't you like to have someone by your side?" Your eyes widened. Jungkook hasn't flirted with you this openly before.

"What do you mean dear?" You tried to give confidence your voice.

“I mean you should come to our club and find a good candidate for the night. Come on, My Heart ones, you are already a grown-up girl. You and I talked about it a lot." You forgot how to speak for a while. All the words seemed to fly out of your head. There was silence for a few seconds.

"I'm sorry, my friend, but for some reason I have absolutely no desire to find a boyfriend right now."

"I know you better than anyone and I feel you need to relax." Silence fell between the two of you. You tried to find an answer but Jungkook broke the silence.

"Come to me." Inside you, everything seems to have broken off. This request sounded so desperate.

"Did you miss me that much?" You wanted to joke.

"Damm. I missed you to hell.” Jungkook said. Your heart was about to burst out of your chest. The desire to come to him grew stronger. But he was drunk. Jungkook thought drunkenly, only the fact that he was drunk could provoke him to say such a thing. You doubted again.

"Y/N" reached your ear. "If you don't want to come to us, let me come to you?"

“Jungkook sweetie, you better go home and get a good night's sleep. How much did you drink?”

"I didn't drink that much. By the way, I came here in my car. And I probably won't be able to take her away. And I have to go to the interview tomorrow. Bullshit!” Jungkook cursed.

"Wait, you have an interview tomorrow and you're still at the club?

"Yeah" Jungkook laughed lazily.

"Hey, why are you so not serious? How are you going to go to an interview like this?"

"I don't know." Admitted your best friend. "Maybe now I won't go."

"How come? You must fulfill your duties!" Now you were nervous. Jungkook can be punished for this behavior, or even better, he can be suspended from the competition if his company finds out about his behavior.

"The only thing you can do is come and drive me home in my car. I'll go to a little bit sleep, maybe I'll even be able to go to the interview." Jungkook suggested. You immediately agreed. You wanted Jungkook to continue to be a model athlete. Because his trainer, whom Jungkook introduced you to, had high hopes for his protégé. Mr. Choo said that Jungkook has a bright future in boxing. However, lately your best friend has partaken of nights out and had a many women.

"Fine. I'll take you, but please don't drink any more while you're waiting for me."

"I am waiting for you my Heart. I'll send you an SMS address."

The taxi pulled up to the entrance to the RAZER night club. Loud music blared from the front door, and people were standing near it. You picked up the phone and read Jungkook's last text message again: "RAZER Club, tell the security guard your name, I've already put you on the list. We will be on the second floor at the table to the left of the entrance. You will see us." You nervously locked your phone. We had to hurry, the clock was already two o'clock in the morning.

You went inside without any problems, telling the guard at the entrance your first and last name. It was stuffy and hot in the club. It smelled of alcohol and hookah. You made your way through the crowd on your way to the stairs leading to the second floor. You are not the first time in this club.

You visited it several times with your girlfriends, and maybe a few times you were here with Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung. Jungkook loved this place so you weren't surprised that he was here. Maybe if he didn't say where he is now, the first place you would start looking for him would be this nightclub.

You climbed the stairs to the second floor and instantly found a table, or rather a sofa, on which Jungkook's company rested. You headed in their direction. A few steps away from the sofa on which Jungkook and Jimin were sitting, the latter noticed you and jumped for joy.

"Wooooo. Who came to see us, Y/N my dear, you are really here." Jimin headed towards you. A moment later he was already holding you close. Taehyung then greeted you with a hug as well. Jungkook sat majestically on the couch waiting for everyone to hug you. When you finished cuddling with Taehyung, Jimin introduced you to the boys sitting at the table. There was a purely male company here. Too many boys. After saying hello to everyone, you sat down near Jungkook.

“You lazy ass. You didn't even didn’t stand up to me!" You said insultingly, shouting over the music. Jungkook leaned into your ear. His breath was hot and it left a mark on your ear.

"I was just waiting for you to greet everyone. Jimin turned out to be faster than me.” Jungkook turned away from your ear. He stayed close, your faces were separated by a few centimeters. Your friend looked you straight in the eyes, you read “Hello” on his lips, and then he leaned down to kiss your cheek. You were as if bewitched. Jungkook smelled like musk mixed with young coconut and alcohol.

You smiled, but it was hysterical. Your heart was pounding. Jungkook was so damn handsome. He was dressed in black jeans with holes and a black t-shirt that fit his figure perfectly. The piercings on the eyebrow and lip reflected the light of the neon lights.

"Jungkook go home. It's too late." You also bent down to tell friend that it was time to gather. At that moment, Jimin landed next to you, he also smelled of alcohol. They must have all had a good drink here.

"Honey, how are you? I haven't seen you for a long time!" Jimin put his hand on your knee. It didn't escape Jungkook's eyes. He tensed.

“Actually, Jimin-shi, I came here for Jungkook. He has important business tomorrow, and he's still here. I have to pick him up." You turned to Jimin so that it would be better to have a conversation. Jimin's hand remained on your knee.

"Oh yes, he said something like that. An interview or something." You shook your head affirmatively. "He came here in his car. He didn't even plan to drink at first." You were surprised, he remembered that he had an important business tomorrow and got drunk anyway. You couldn't help but notice a strange trend in Jungkook's behavior. He behaved irresponsibly, maybe something happened and you don't know about it. You were going to talk to your friend on the way home.

While you were talking to Jimin who still had his hand on your knee, you didn't notice Jungkook looking at you. He didn't like where Jimin was holding hands, and he couldn't say why. The tension that arose in the middle made Jungkook want to drink again. He poured himself a glass of whiskey and drank it in one gulp. Jungkook felt the alcohol burn his throat and for a second it muted the intense irritation.

Jungkook stood up and looked at you. You and Jimin turned to your friend at the same time.

"Let's go home Y/N" Jungkook said. You stood up next and nodded your head.

"Okay guys have fun. Jungkook and I really need to go." You said to Jimin and Taehyung, who was also looking at all of you. You hugged Taehyung again and then Jimin. For a brief moment that you were hugging a friend, you had no idea what kind of picture was behind you. Jimin had a big smile and looked at Jungkook who was angry with him. Jimin was amused by this situation. Someone is very jealous of their best friend. Jimin raised his eyebrows as if to ask “Is something wrong?”, but he was met with a hard smile that twisted his best friend's lips. Jimin could only wonder what that could mean.

You finally turned away from Jimin and you and Jungkook left the nightclub.

You two hardly spoke on the way to Jungkook's car. The only thing is that you asked where the car was and Jungkook said that it was in the parking lot.

Jungkook looked sullen. Carefully glancing at him, you noticed that his eyebrows were converged on the forehead. Why is his infusion like this?

Jungkook's Mercedes was parked not far from the parking lot exit. When you got to the car Jungkook unlocked it and gave you the keys. You got behind the wheel and your friend sat next to you.

While you adjusted the seat and steering wheel for herself, Jungkook reached for something in the back seat. He leaned towards you so that it was convenient to get what was lying behind. You started the engine and after adjusting the steering wheel, you noticed Jungkook leaning into your seat. Without thinking, you turned to see what he was doing and found yourself close to his face again. You froze.

"What are you doing?" You asked.

"I want to get something out of the back seat." Jungkook says. You and your friend look into each other's eyes until he finally gets what he's been chasing. In his hand you see an electronic cigarette. You frown.

"Seriously Jeon Jungkook?!" You say, looking at the thing in his hand. "Now an electronic cigarette?"

"Something is wrong?" Asks your friend and inhales smoke. You stare at your friend for a few seconds. He does not notice your look he continues to smoke and seems to like it very much. At some point, Jungkook notices that in the car has become very quiet, and when he turns back to you, he encounters a judgmental look of you.

"What?" Jungkook asks again and you can feel the irritation in his voice. You want to say that you are annoyed by his behavior, but instead you just look away and drive away.

You are silent again, Jungkook continues to smoke. Your mood is bad, and the reason for that lies to the right of you. You are in some sense disappointed by your friend's behavior. He is a good athlete who has great achievements in his career and can reach even greater heights. But ruining your career with nightclubbing, alcohol and cigarettes, what could be more terrible? Jungkook has changed, you don't recognize him at all.

The window on Jungkook's side is open, and when the air rushes into the car, you catch the smell of banana smoke. After a while Jungkook turns on the music out of boredom. You just silently watch his actions. He flips through the radio stations and can't find anything suitable. In the end, he stops at some station that plays rhythmic hip-hop. Jungkook likes the music and turns it up, then louder until some stupid song is shouts at the whole car. Jungkook sings and dances along. Your nerves give up. With one sharp movement, you make quieter. Jungkook looks at you as if he just realized that you are near.

"You shouldn't listen to music so flexibly. We can be fined by the police." You say, hiding the terrible irritation inside.

"I do not care." Jungkook says lazily. He tries to make music loud again, but you reach the button first.

"We won't listen to music now." and you turn off the radio altogether. Jungkook is stunned for a moment, and then a small laugh escapes his lips.

“What happened Y/N, why so angry? Hasn't anyone fucked you in a long time?" - You felt feeling as if you were punched in the stomach. It was as if a current passed through the body. You grabbed the steering wheel. But before you can answer anything, Jungkook is ahead of you.

“Oh, how could I forget? No one fucked you at all! But don't worry my Dear, sooner or later it will happen. And you will stop getting angry at all." You turn sharply to the side and park. You start shaking all over. What is this man thinking? How dare he talk to you like that?

“What the hell? How are you talking to me?" Are you yelling at Jungkook. He looks at you but you are ready to just kill him.

"What did I say?" Jungkook says calmly. He seems to feel no guilt behind him.

“Do you have any problems Jungkook? Why do you speak so rudely to me?"

"I don't have any problems, Dear. Why did you assume that they are?" Jungkook smiles smugly. He's probably having a lot of fun now, but you're not into jokes now.

"Your jokes are not funny at all and stop acting like shit!" You say, trying to calm down.

"But it was not a joke. If a girl is angry, she either wants sex or is having critical days. It's one of two" Jungkook says.

"Of course, I forgot how experienced you are in the affairs of women and their behavior." You sneer.

"If you want, I can quench your anger. Or you can ask Jimin if you want. I think he will not mind helping you." You try to analyze Jungkook's words. Why is Jimin here at all? And then it's like the last puzzle has been completed in your head. Could it be that your best friend made jealous you to Jimin? Or what can justify his sharp bad mood and these annoying words about help?

"Jeon Jungkook is you in your right mind? Have alcohol and cigarettes replaced your common sense?" You say. Now Jungkook was staring at you. A tense silence fell between you.

"My mind is fine." Suddenly he starts. "I see what I say. Jimin seems interested in you." You are shocked at what this conversation has come to. Jungkook keeps his eyes on you. He is interested in following your reaction.

"I don't understand what you're talking about at all. Jimin don't interest in me, he's just friendly." You assume.

"Of course he will be friendly. How will he drag you to bed then?" You don't understand how this conversation reached the point where Jimin wants to drag you to bed. You didn't know what to say. You ran a hand through your hair, thinking of what to say to Jungkook. He kept his eyes on you at that time. You couldn't know what was going on in his head. How could you know that your friend wants to be the guy who will have you in bed?

You exhaled heavily and started the engine.

“Jungkook, I don't understand why you think that, but it's not true. Jimin and I are just friends. If he behaves suspiciously, it is only because he is friendly. Why is a friendly gesture for you men an invitation to bed?" You said, and caught yourself thinking that you were making excuses. "Why do you care anyway? Even if he wants something with me, so what? It’s any difference to you?". Jungkook is silent. He is in no hurry to answer. Having chosen the right words, he answers.

"So there is a difference to me." He says. You feel discomfort inside again.

"Which one?" You ask briefly and try to give firmness to your voice.

"You shouldn't be dating any of my friends!"

"What does it mean??" You squeak.

"It means what I said. You can't meet my friends." Jungkook inhales the smoke of the electronic cigarette again.

"Don't you think, Jungkook, that you have no right to say such words. When you say something like that, you have to give an argument!" You start to get angry again. Why does he think that he has the right to permission or not allow to meet with someone?!

"You're my friend and they shouldn't lay their damn hands on you." You can hear Jungkook getting angry. This is the first time you see your friend like this. Angry and irritated as if someone touched his personal things. But you are not his personal thing.

"Hey friend, I'm not your personal thing. So don't act like that. And I will decide on the have or not relationship with your friends myself! You can't to object me!"

Jungkook doesn't answer and you drive the rest of the way in complete silence.

After some time, you find yourself in the parking lot of the complex where his house is located. Your mood was damn bad. Usually, spending time with Jungkook is the best part of your day, but it wasn't today. The tense silence that was the rest of the way exhausted you. You wanted to leave Jungkook and go home as soon as possible. You scrolled through your conversation with him over and over again. He's kind of weird today and he's freaking you out.

You parked the Mercedes and turned off the engine. There was no desire to talk to Jungkook at all. You grabbed your phone to order an Uber.

Jungkook noticed what you were doing.

"Why are you ordering a taxi? Are you going to go back to the club?" You hear sarcasm from Jungkook's lips.

"I will go home. And maybe to the club, who knows?" You say with the same sarcasm. You continue to enter your home address as the phone slips out of your hands and into Jungkook's hands.

"You're not going home tonight." He says, holding the phone above his head. A new surge of anger arose in you.

“Jungkook don't make me nerves. Because I'm already so angry. Give me the phone, I'll order a taxi and go."

"You won't go home anyway. It's too late, you're spending the night at my place." You watch as Jungkook hides your phone in the back pocket of his black jeans.

"I don't want to be with you even a second longer. That's why I won't spend the night at your place!" You say indignantly and cross your arms and sit up straight. "You told me all sort of shit and now you're trying to worry?" You see Jungkook approaching you and in a moment he is so close that you forget how to breathe. One of his hands grabs the seat next to your face and the other is not far from your thighs.

"You shout too often and too loudly today. Should I close your mouth?". Jungkook looks at you first and then shifts his gaze to your lips. Your heart beats somewhere in your throat and you feel how in the car getting hot. You absolutely do not know what to do. Suddenly Jungkook laughs. His light laugh, which sounds like a bass, is reflected in every cell of your body.

“You look so scared. Honey, I'm not going to hurt you!" His voice becomes softer, and you suddenly gain courage.

"I'm just confused. You caught me off guard." You say, and your eyes also fall on his lips. You forgot that a few moments ago you were angry with him. One of his looks annoyed you, and now in the middle you feel only a strong attraction to your friend. The picture that you have imagined many times is literally right now in front of you.

"You're staying with me for the night and that's non-negotiable." Jungkook says it, still close to your face.

"You will have to make me stay. Because I do not want to!" You annoy Jungkook. You feel arousal from his close contact and a desire arises in the bottom of your stomach. You clench your hips to ease the sensation. And of course it doesn't escape your friend's eyes. He lowers his eyes to your thighs for a moment and a smug smile graces his already handsome face.

"My girl wants me to make her stay?" Jungkook almost moans these words into your lips, his hand ends up on your thigh. He runs his hand under your skirt and stops at your panties. You instinctively spread your legs. “I know a good way,” Jungkook says, and then his lips cover yours. You smell alcohol and sweet banana. His hand moves down to your clit and he feels how wet you are.

"So damn wet already." - He whispers, pulling away from your lips for a second. You can't think about anything but Jungkook's soft lips on yours and his hand that has already penetrated the fabric of your underwear. You moan from the pleasure gifted of your best friend. Jungkook likes this, so he deepens the kiss by sliding his tongue into your mouth. The kiss turns out to be so passionate that your head literally spins. Jungkook sticks his tongue out and traces the contours of your lips, as if he's trying to memorize every inch of your body.

"I've wanted this for so long." Jungkook admits. You wanted this too for a long time. You feel butterflies in your stomach at his words. Did your friend really want you all this time? You want to ask him how it happened, but his fingers end up on your clit. You shudder at the new sensation. Jungkook breaks the kiss. He's still close to your face, and you don't open your eyes, holding back the pleasure you didn't know before.

"Would you see yourself now, Heart? So red and beautiful. Do you like what I do?" Jungkook's voice makes you even more excited. You want more, but you don't understand how it should be. Jungkook is still waiting for your answer as he continues to circle your center, kissing your neck at the same time. You seem to be in seventh heaven with happiness. You couldn't even imagine how skillfully Jungkook was able to bring pleasure.

“Say it my dear. Say what you like when your best friend finger fucks you." You try to squeeze the answer out of yourself.

"Yes" Your words sound more like a moan than an answer. But for Jungkook, it was more than he wanted to hear. He returns to your lips and captures them again. He immediately sticks his tongue in your mouth and kisses you to the point of unconsciousness. You shiver a little with pleasure and as soon as you think you should come Jungkook takes my finger away. You open your eyes and meet his. You want to protest, but instead you see his smile and suddenly panic.

"Let's go to the apartment, dear. It is not very comfortable here. I want to enjoy you completely and for that you have to be naked." You still feel excited, but Jungkook's words make you blush. You are embarrassed by the fact that you just moaned at his actions. Jungkook adjusts the skirt of your dress and kisses your swollen lips briefly.

He gets out of the car first and rushes to your door. You smooth your hair and feel how you are shaking all over. What just happened? And what will happen next?

Jungkook opens the door from your side and holds out his hand. You take your things and put your hand in his. The sound of locks is heard, which informs that the car is locked. Jungkook leads you to the door that leads to the hall of his house.

You feel panic cover you. You can't sleep with your best friend. Even with your feelings, you feel that this should not happen. If you do that, you won't be able to be friends anymore because you know Jungkook isn't interested in a serious relationship. You are also afraid of the fact that it will be the first time for you. You wouldn't admit to anyone that you wanted Jungkook to be your first husband, but now you've lost all confidence.

Behind the crazy thoughts in your head, you don't notice how you have already found yourself near the elevator and it has arrived. The door opened with a characteristic sound. Jungkook led you inside. He presses the button for the 14th floor and the elevator moves, and at that moment you are already pressed against the wall. Jungkook presses his big muscular body against you. He kisses you desperately again and you can't help but respond. But some inner feeling tells you to stop him. Jungkook's hands roam your body again. One of his hands is on your ass and squeezing it.

“You are so damn beautiful. I want to fuck you until the end." Jungkook says. You feel his bulge pressing against your pubic bone.

The elevator stops on the floor you need and Jungkook reluctantly breaks away from you and takes your hand again and leads you to the door of his apartment.

The moment the two of you were inside, Jungkook lost control of himself. He grabbed your bag and threw it somewhere to the side, then he pounced on you with a kiss. He pressed your body to his. You felt again that you should tell Jungkook that you both can't do it. You tried to break the kiss but your friend wouldn't let you.

"Jungkook-ah" You were finally able to tear yourself away from him. At the same time, he continued to cover your neck with kisses. "Jungkook wait a minute." You said grabbing his shoulders. You tried to stop him.

“I can't wait any longer Y/N. I waited too long to do this to you.” Jungkook admits. You cannot believe his words. You thought you were the only one who wanted something like that between you. But with such statements, you feel that you cannot cross the line.

“Jungkook, honey listen.” You began to struggle in his steel grip. "We shouldn't do this!"

"Why not? We both want it! So why can't we have sex?” Jungkook says. He's still holding you close, but he's stopped kissing you.

"Jungkook, if we sleep over we can't be friends." You say desperately.

"Why?" He asks.

"Because..." You want to confess your feelings to him, but you are afraid. If you say that you are in love with him, then your friendship is definitely gone. "Because Jungkook, friends aren't supposed to sleep with each other." You telling untruth.

"You're wrong. Friends can have sex. Have you heard anything about "friends with benefits?" He smiles but you don't laugh. You raise your eyebrows.

“I don't want to be friends with benefits. This is not for me Jungkook.” While you say his big eyes run over your face. Jungkook feels a slight disappointment. He lets you go and takes a few steps back. You look at him and already regret what you said. When Jungkook pulled away from you, you felt like you lost something.

"Shit!" Your friend is quarreling. He rakes his hair back and takes another step back. "So I'm really just a friend for you?" Jungkook asks. "Then why did you answer my kisses?" You are silent, unable to answer anything. You lower your eyes unable to stand his gaze. “Y/N I don't understand you.” Jungkook suddenly says. "I know you like me, but you don't want anything to do with me?" You are stunned. You look up at him and see his face radiating anger.

“So you know? Who told you?"

"No one told me, I just noticed it. And noticed a long time ago." Jungkook says.

"Noticed? Could you be wrong?” You try to understand what in your behavior could lead him to such thoughts.

"Since that meeting the day before Choseok." Jungkook started. "When I saw you, I couldn't believe my eyes. You became so beautiful and attractive that I could hardly stop myself from staring at you. I usually do this before you see it. When we were kids, I didn't even pay attention to you, even though all my friends just told me I was stupid for just being friends with you. For me, you were just a sister, but you changed a lot during the years that we didn't communicate. And I really don't understand why I didn't notice how attractive you are." Jungkook started to move in your direction, and you stood under the wall and could not believe your ears. "Then in the cafe, when we talked and you said that you were a virgin, I took it as a sign that you should be mine. I've wanted you Y/N ever since. I invited you to the party then because I wanted to sleep with you." Jungkook is already close to you again, he smiles remembering that day. “I was so sure that it would cost me nothing to drag you to bed, but you turned out to be so untouchable. I remember how you stayed away from me then, as if you felt that if you give me even the slightest hint, I will do something to you."

"No! That's not why I stayed away from you." You say and your voice is hoarse.

"It does not matter. It doesn't matter anymore. Would you know how many times I tried to get close to you and you didn't seem to notice me. I know you like me, your behavior says it. You run literally at my every whim." Jungkook puts his hand on your face and strokes it.

"It does not. I don't follow any whim of yours." You say and you are starting to feel sick from what you are going through.

"I don't understand one thing. If you like me, why don't you want me?" He asks. You are silent, you don't know what to say. Jungkook admitted that he likes you, so why can't you? Something inside of you doesn't give you the right to allow something more to happen but you wanted it the most in the world, right from the moment you met Jungkook on the eve of Choseok. Jungkook lengthens his caress on your cheek, gently and slowly, this action seems to hypnotize you. His finger seems so soft and gentle.

There is absolute silence between you. The only thing that disturbs it is the sounds coming from the street. Jungkook is the first to break the long silence.

“Y/N” his finger still caressing your cheek. "Just tell me do you want it to happen?" You know exactly what he is talking about, your heartbeat becomes frantic again. "If you don't want it, I won't lay even a finger on you anymore. I will do everything as if what happened in the car never happened." Jungkook is too close. Only a few centimeters separate you. You smell his hot breath that smells of alcohol and something sweet, you wonder for a second how much he drank today, usually Jungkook needs to drink a lot to be very drunk, he is very resistant when it comes to alcohol. You feel the warmth of his body next to you. You are intoxicated by his closeness. His voice is so low and gentle at the same time. You look up at Jungkook and meet his gaze. His brown eyes seem just black in the darkness of the apartment. You look at them and you can't take your eyes off of him. You see desire and hope in his eyes. You understand that you gave up a long time ago. You know Jungkook got you in that unfortunate car. You can't refuse him because you want to sleep with him just as much. You want to know what he can do to you.

You want to drink. You need to relax, and alcohol will do that quickly. Because unlike Jungkook, you get drunk quickly. Maybe strong alcohol will also give you the desired bravery in front of Jungkook.

"Do you have anything to drink?" You say without answering Jungkook's question. His eyebrow goes up at the words, Jungkook looks at you with interest. But suddenly he giggles lightly.

“Yes, I have. What would you like, Heart?" Jungkook's voice is playful.

"Let's drink something strong." You suggest. You smiling. He reluctantly lets you go for and heads for the kitchen.

You weren't at Jungkook's house very often. Usually you two spent time somewhere in clubs, cafes, sometimes at festivals. Jungkook always ended up at your house. It could have been an impromptu party, after which he stayed the night, or he just came to visit, stayed until late and you worried about him and offered to stay. There were many times when Jungkook stayed at your place for the night.

Jungkook's apartment was in an upscale area of Seoul. She was gorgeous in a nice light yellow/brown color. His kitchen and living room were a large common room. It was quite nice and comfortable. A small table was located in front of the large sofa, which stood behind the cooking surface. You immediately guessed where Jungkook usually ate, of course when he ate at home. But he did it not often. His apartment was large, from the living room you could get into several more rooms, into the toilet and bathroom and into the bedroom. Jungkook also had a separate room with a gym and a dressing room.

Every time you were in his apartment, you looked around. Because you constantly came across some new interesting things that Jungkook owned. It could was a new guitar or drumsticks. Or some strange statue, or for example, some lamps. Today you wandered with your eyes in search of new objects, but without success. Nothing new caught your eye.

You sat down on the couch and waited for Jungkook. After a while he returned with two broad glasses and a bottle of whiskey. Your friend put the glasses on the table and sat down next to you. Jungkook sat down very close, your thighs touching each other. He poured strong alcohol and handed you one of the glasses filled with liquid. You silently took it and raised it to your lips.

Jungkook kept his eyes on you. He also raised the glass to his lips and drank the honey-colored drink in one gulp. You drank not all, but only half. The alcohol burned your throat. You grimaced from the taste. Jungkook kept looking at you. In fact, he was burning with the thought that he wanted to touch you. He wants to see what is hidden under your soft purple dress. He looked down at your legs and ran his eyes from your feet to where your skirt started. He was attracted by your bare legs, he wanted to explore every centimeter of your body with his own hands.

Your head started to spin and the alcohol started to relax you almost instantly. You finished the rest of the whiskey in the second gulp.

"Do you want another drink?" Jungkook asked. Without thinking long, you handed him your empty glass. You desperately want to push obsessive thoughts out of your head. Jungkook laughs at your desire to drink, he knows that you don't drink strong alcohol at all. He pours you more.

“You have to be careful Y/N. You get drunk quickly, but I still wanted to hear the answer to my question." Jungkook hands you a glass and turns to you to see you better. You take another glass and take a small sip. The taste of whiskey is really terrible, but that's what you need right now. You finish the second glass and feel that this will probably be enough. Jungkook returned to his question. You have long known what to answer him. Jungkook doesn't drink anymore, he drank today enough and doesn't want to anymore. All he wants is to hear permission from your lips.

“Yes, Jungkook,” you say, feeling the alcohol envelops your body. All the thoughts that previously forbade you to do anything left your head. You see no reason to give up on Jungkook now. "I want this!" Your voice trembles.

Your words echo in a beautiful melody to Jungkook's ears. So! This is what he expected to hear. He didn't even doubt for a faked second that you would say that. He doesn't need to hear anything else. He wants you as soon as possible.

Jungkook moves closer to you and leans in for a kiss. When his lips touch yours, fireworks explode inside you. This feeling comes every time Jungkook kisses you. He deepened the kiss with his tongue and you noted that no one who had kissed you before had used their tongue as skillfully as Jungkook.

"Sit on my lap." He said when he pulled away from your lips. You were stunned for a moment, but Jungkook grabbed your arm and pulled you towards him. You sat on him. He slipped his hands under your dress and left them on your buttocks. He looked at you with eyes full of desire, his smile on his lips said that he got what he wanted.

One of his hands moved from your buttocks to your wet underwear. He found your clit and ran his finger over it a few times. The movement made you wanted more. You bit your lip to keep from moaning out loud.

"You don't need to restrain yourself, Heart. I want to hear your voice." Jungkook whispers. He kisses your neck, you feel yourself falling apart. His kisses send ants all over your body.

You feel how much Jungkook wants you. His bulge presses well against you, at some point you start rocking on his hips to quell the feeling that gathered in you below. Jungkook grabs your buttocks with both hands and helps you with the rhythm. You moan in pleasure.

"You are my good girl. I want to see you!" Jungkook says. He grabs the skirt of your dress and carefully pulls your entire outfit over your head. Now you're sitting on his lap in a bra and, soaked through. You like his eyes so much that look at you with absolute lust. Jungkook wastes time in freeing you from your bra, and when he takes it off you feel a sense of relief. You see his eyes staring into your chest and you smile. It feels like he's seeing a woman's breasts for the first time.

His member hardens even more from he saw. Jungkook gently touches one of your breasts with his hand and squeezes it. You feel a surge of desire. He leans down to your chest and takes one of your nipples in his mouth. At first it feels like a kiss and then he starts sucking it. He sticks his tongue out and circles your bud a few times before sucking again. You look down on him and think that you can only come from these actions of his. Jungkook does the same thing with your second nipple as he did with the first. You moan unable to hold back the pleasure as you continue to rock on Jungkook's hips.

He wants to get rid of these tight pants. It even hurts from the fact that you started to rock at him more intensively. His jeans were soaked with your juice and his own cum, which was coming out more and more with your movements. He thought for a second that he could cum just from the sight of your bare breasts and the intense movements that you didn't even think to stop. Jungkook thought he couldn't take it anymore and he needed to push his cock inside you as soon as possible.

You kissed Jungkook, wanting to feel his sweet lips again, when suddenly he stopped you. You were slightly sweaty and noticed the beads of sweat covering Jungkook's forehead.

"Honey, I'm going to fuck you! Because if you keep rocking on my hips like this I can't stand it!" He says. You don't even have time to think what he means as you are already on your back. Jungkook towers over you, pulling off his t-shirt. You feast your eyes on his body. He is so perfect that he can be compared to the Greek God. You didn't even notice that Jungkook was fully clothed all this time. You felt so vulnerable in front of him.

"Are you ready?" Jungkook asks. He keeps his hands on the belt of his pants. You lower your eyes there and see how his cock protrudes through his jeans. You are a little afraid to see him with your own eyes, but the desire to feel him cock in yourself is stronger. You reach for his belt and unbuckle it.

"I'm ready," you say.

"Okay my girl. But first you need to get used to my size. So first I will insert my fingers into you so that you get used to the feeling. The first time is usually painful." Jungkook says with concern. "But don't worry. I'll be very gentle with you." He promises. You smile

"Thank you" is all you say. Jungkook gets off of you and pulls off your pants, leaving you in nothing but Calvin Klein boxers.

He drops to one knee above you, and keeps the rest of his body weight on the other leg that is on the floor. He carefully grabs the elastic bands of your panties and pulls them down without much haste. Your breathing quickens. Now you are completely naked in front of Jungkook.

His gaze wanders all over your body. Jungkook couldn't help but think that the picture in his head was exactly what he had imagined since that very day. Since that meeting on the eve of Choseok. He imagined more than once how you lay naked in front of him. He lingers own eays on your pussy. You feel the heat spread throughout your body at Jungkook's gaze.

"Are you going to stare much longer?" You ask, unable to stand his gaze. Jungkook laughs and then leans into you. He leans down so low that your noses are touching.

"I have to remember this moment in all its glory." He says. "Can't I admire you?" Jungkook kisses you passionately and very intensely again. "You are so beautiful," he whispers into your lips. You feel his hot breath burning your swollen lips. And then you feel how he inserts his finger into you. You feel something new. It's not like a similar feeling when he starts to move it inside you. Jungkook is still very close to your face. He enjoys you look.

His finger moves smoothly inside you. You feel much not pressure on your walls. After a while Jungkook inserts a second finger into you and the pressure increases. The movements become faster and you think you like what Jungkook is doing. You close your eyes with pleasure. A soft moan escapes your lips. Jungkook showers your neck with kisses. Finally, he inserts the third finger into you, behind which a slight note of pain is felt. But it's not unpleasant. Jungkook moves his fingers inside you, thus stretching your entrance.

“So wet for me” Jungkook whispers in your ear. "You ready to accept me, aren't you?" You are ready for this. Jungkook is very good with his fingers. His movements give you incredible pleasure, but you still wonder how it feels to feel his member inside you. You are unable to answer something specific. You just start moaning louder, trying to let him know that you are ready.

Jungkook pulls his fingers out of you and you regret that he did. You want him to never stop doing it. You open your eyes and see him licking his fingers that were inside you a few moments ago. You don't know how to react to such a gesture. Jungkook sees your reaction and smiles.

"You are such a sweet. Did you know about it?" You are ashamed of such a compliment. “Next time I want to fully enjoy you and try you. But now I want to be inside you.” Jungkook gets off you and takes off his boxers. His big cock is already so hard. You can't stop looking at him, and you're a little scared because he's so big. You don't know if it's good or bad. You heard how the girls at work sometimes joked about this topic and it was like it was good. But you have heard more than once that if the penis is too big, it can be painful.

Jungkook rushed to you. He climbed on top, picking up your legs so that they bent at the knees. He rested his cock against your entrance and leaned into you again.

"Don't be nervous my good girl. I promised to be gentle with you." It’s hard for you to control yourself, but you tried.

"I trust you completely Jungkook" You confidently say! Jungkook kissed your lips to calm you down, and then he took his cock in his hand and pressed it against your entrance.

Inch by inch Jungkook slowly filled you with his cock. And as soon as he sank completely, you felt a strong pressure on your walls. Of course you were hurt. But the pain almost immediately disappeared against the background of a still unknown sensation. It wasn't like that when Jungkook moved his fingers into you.

He stopped as soon as he was fully inside you, allowing you to get used to the new sensation. He leaned into you again kissing your lips quickly. It he just touched your lips as if calming you down.

"Are you all right?" He asked gently.

"Yeah, I'm fine!" You told the truth. As soon as the pain subsided you thought that you liked the way Jungkook was filling you up. After waiting a little longer, he began to carefully move his hips. You gasped from the pain that came with every movement, but later it was replaced by pleasant sensations. Jungkook carefully moved back and forth finding your G spot. He tried to be as careful as possible so his movements were smooth and not too forceful. Jungkook liked rough sex, but it wasn't going to happen today. Maybe when you are ready a little later he will show you all the beauty of rough sex. So he was already thinking about what he would do to you in the other times.

"You are so tight, my girl. So damn tight!" Jungkook let out a groan. He began to move more intensively, you felt an unknown pleasure. You didn't feel any more pain. You closed your eyes again and your lips parted to let the pleasure be heard through your moans. Jungkook was finally giving you pleasure, he couldn't help but feel relieved.

Jungkook's hands are on either side of your face. He was hanging over you breathing heavily. You were also breathing hard. Your bodies moved in time with each other. You wrapped your arms around Jungkook's shoulders, leaning down to let your bodies snuggled up. Jungkook wanted to kiss you again. He ran his tongue into your mouth as soon as your lips met. He moaned from the feeling that your tight pussy gave him. He kissed you passionately, and you kissed him back. Your hands plunged into his black locks. Even now you couldn't help but think about you, how soft they are to the touch. Jungkook ended the kiss by biting your bottom lip, tasting your soft flesh.

He finally let go of your lips, instead he wanted to leave a mark on you now. He dug into your neck, sucking on the skin. You liked the slight pain that accompanied those kisses.

Jungkook continued to kiss you as his thumb found your clit. He pressed it lightly and then began to caress it in circular motions, never stopping to move inside you.

"Shit..." you breathed out with a groan. "Jungkook I'm so close." Hearing what you said, he started to move faster.

"Come on girl. Do It. Come." Jungkook says. And after his words, you felt your whole body sink into bliss. A feeling of pleasure spread throughout your body. You screamed unable to hold it in. Jungkook continued to fuck you, intending to cum as well. He felt so good about you that he thought he would finish much earlier than you, but he was able to hold on. And when he reached his own climax, you felt his hot sperm inside you, filling you. His cock twitched inside you releasing his cum. Jungkook was saying swear words that somehow reflected his own pleasure.

When Jungkook stopped twitching inside you, his cock went limp and he was in no hurry to pull it out of you. Jungkook leaned down on top of you finding your lips again. He kissed you gently while breathing heavily. Your eyes met after he stopped kissing you.

"Are you okay?" He asked immediately. You tried to hold your breath.

"Everything is fine," you said and smiled. Jungkook smiled back. He carefully got out of you and sat next to you. You tried not to think about what just happened.

“Y/N you bled a little blood.” He said putting his hand on your thigh. You got up. You wanted to cover yourself, but all your clothes were on the floor.

Jungkook was following you.

"Oh, it's okay." You say. "It should be." You look up at Jungkook and see that he is looking at you. A slight smile on his lips.

"Do you want to take a shower?" He asks. You are shy because you notice how he is looking at you.

"That's how I would like it."

"Do you want to go alone or should I join you?" Jungkook leans towards your lips, but doesn't kiss. Your heart beats faster.

"I think I should go myself." You say awkwardly, thinking about what might happen in the bathroom again, but you are not ready for it.

"As you like Heart." Jungkook stands up and walks over to his boxers lying near the sofa. You stare at him unable to get used to Jungkook's naked body. "Do you like what you see?" He suddenly says. Not expecting to hear any question from him, you shudder and quickly look away. Jungkook laughs. He pulls on his boxers and come to you. He kneels next to you, cupping your face in his hands. "I'm really very handsome, you shouldn't look away." You look at each other and then Jungkook kisses you. A strange thought runs through his head: "I just fucked her, and I don't understand how I can want her again so quickly." You broke the kiss. In fact, you were already short of air and your lips were already swollen from frequent kisses.

You walked into the bathroom holding the clothes Jungkook had given you a minute ago. You felt your whole body ache, especially there. You put your things on the counter and went into the shower and turned on the faucet. It was warm enveloping your sweaty body. Standing under the stream of water, you thought about everything that had happened. You felt bad. You had a lot of different thoughts that started to fill your head. How to behave with Jungkook? What is your relationship with him now? You are completely confused. You were nervous and didn't know how to deal with him when you got out of the shower. But Jungkook was so gentle with you that just remembering it gave you butterflies in your stomach. You wanted to run home, but he knows where you live. In reality, all you were afraid of was Jungkook will saying, “I'm sorry but it was only once. I'm sorry that you decided that I want a relationship with you. Let's be friends as before." You were horrified. A plan appeared in your head. When Jungkook goes to wash you have to run.

You just had to drive him home. What...what did you do?

P.C. I hope you give this story a lot of love.

#bts #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x f!reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x oc #jungkook imagine #jungkook boxer #jungkook smut

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cartermagazine · 5 months

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Today In History

Muhammad Ali was born on January 17, 1942, in Louisville, Kentucky. His birth name was Cassius Marcellus Clay Jr.

At an early age, young Clay showed that he wasn’t afraid of any bout—inside or outside of the ring.

At the age of 12, Clay discovered his talent for boxing through an odd twist of fate. After his bike was stolen, Clay told police officer Joe Martin that he wanted to beat up the thief. “Well, you better learn how to fight before you start challenging people,” said Martin.

Clay started working with Martin to learn how to spar and soon began his boxing career. In his first amateur bout in 1954, he won the fight by split decision. Clay went on to win the 1956 Golden Gloves tournament for novices in the light heavyweight class. Three years later, he won the National Golden Gloves Tournament of Champions, as well as the Amateur Athletic Union’s national title for the light heavyweight division.

In 1960, Clay won a spot on the U.S. Olympic boxing team and traveled to Rome to compete. After winning his first three bouts, Clay defeated Zbigniew Pietrzkowski of Poland to win the light heavyweight Olympic gold medal.

After his Olympic victory, Clay was heralded as an American hero. He soon turned professional and continued overwhelming all opponents in the ring. In 1964 Clay’s victory over Liston earned him his first world heavyweight boxing championship.

The next morning, on February 26, Clay announced his affiliation with the Nation of Islam, and his name became Muhammad Ali.

Muhammad Ali started a different kind of fight with his outspoken views against the Vietnam War, and in his retirement, Ali devoted his time to philanthropy around the world. In 1998 he was the United Nations Messenger of Peace, and in 2005 Ali received the Presidential Medal of Honor.

Ali also received the President’s Award from the NAACP in 2009 for his public service efforts.

“Truly great people in history never wanted to be great for themselves.” - Muhammad Ali

CARTER Magazine

#carter magazine #carter #historyandhiphop365 #wherehistoryandhiphopmeet #history #cartermagazine #today in history #staywoke #blackhistory #blackhistorymonth #muhammad ali

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valleydean · 5 months

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Sweet Science [a Heavyweight timestamp]

Part of 12 Days of Smutmas Read on AO3 | Read Heavyweight For River

Part One: Sleigh/Slay

These days, most of the fans stood outside the arena, straining their ears in an attempt to hear the commentator’s booming voice from within over the honking car horns on the street. Somehow, they would find out the results of the bout and swarm beneath the marquee for the victor’s autograph—for a chance to relive even a fraction of the glitz and glamor that had slipped from New York’s grasp and shattered on the floor like a delicate pearl necklace.

In hindsight, the roar of the 1920s was always bound to be silenced. The ‘30s were more of a whimper.

Supper clubs shuttered their doors. Speakeasies were a memory of the past since the repeal of Volstead. Central Park was a city within a city, made of tents and campfires, as more people failed to pay their rent. Most couldn’t afford to feed their children. It went without saying that they no longer had the money to spend on frivolous things like tickets to boxing bouts.

Castiel had certainly felt the difference in his own wallet. Even as a four-year heavyweight world champion, the money was dwindling. The cash prizes were mere fractions of what they had once been. All over the country, fighters had to hang up their gloves and find day work in the factories and mills, vying for spare cash along with the rest of the masses huddled at the tall fences, hands covered in soot and oil.

Dean had even started picking up shifts at the car garage beneath Winchester’s Gym. Castiel had found himself alongside Jack in the shipyards of Brooklyn more than once, hauling imported goods from the barges to trucks. There, no one bat an eye at him. He was treated the same as everyone else who had been fortunate enough to find a wage for the day.

It was safe to say the glory days of boxing were over.

But, walking through the crowd of fans under the marquee beside Dean that night, it was easy to pretend they were still in the halcyon heyday of the sport. Dean had won his bout by knockout in the ninth round. There hadn’t even been the need for an eight count. The commentator had cheered through the speakers, “Pretty Boy Winchester slays the competition and wins the night!”

The crowd pressed in, practically throwing themselves over the barriers, waving pens and pieces of paper. All of them were wrapped up in patched coats and mended, dulled clothes that were at least five years old.

“Mr. Winchester! Mr. Winchester!” they shouted, trying to get his attention. Flashes from handheld cameras washed out the bandages and red cuts on Dean’s face in bursts. Stars were in Castiel’s eyes just from looking at him.

“Mr. Novak! Over here!”

Castiel scribbled his name on whatever was shoved into his face as quickly as he could. Distantly, he wondered how many of these autographs would be sold to make ends meat. Usually, he’d be happy to help feed a family for a day or two with nothing but his signature, but not tonight.

Half of his attention was constantly on the car waiting for them in front of the sidewalk. He needed to get home to pack. It was late, and he and Dean had planned to get up early to drive upstate.

In lieu of Christmas gifts that year, he and Dean had rented a room at a mountain house an hour outside of Manhattan. They would be there through the New Year. It would do them well, Castiel thought, to get out of the hustle and bustle of the city for a while. Besides, now that Sam and his wife, Eileen, had moved back in, in conjunction with working so much, it had been some time since Castiel had Dean all to himself. He was looking forward to it.

More than that, he was impatient for it. Logically, he knew rushing Dean wouldn’t bring the morning any faster, but it was worth a shot.

He shot Dean a look, silently telling him it was time to go. Dean seemed to get the message. He took a step back from the barrier and the hands reaching for him and shouted, “Merry Christmas, everybody!”

The crowd delighted in that, even though it was the day after Christmas.

Castiel waved toward them in general before beelining to the rumbling car. Exhaust coughed out of it into the late December air. Dirty snowbanks melted to slush on the sidewalks. He slipped into the backseat and shimmied over to the far door. Dean got in after him. The driver closed the door after him and started walking around the car. While he was out of sight, Dean grabbed Castiel by the tie and yanked him in for a hard kiss. Castiel melted into it.

He lingered close to Dean’s lips while he said, “Congratulations.”

The driver’s door clicked open, and Dean pulled away. It was a shame. Dean was so warm. The chill of the night hadn’t left Castiel’s bones yet. He rubbed his hands together. Out of sight from the front seat, Dean clasped his hand atop Castiel’s thigh and dragged it up and down.

The car started moving.

“Extra cash is gonna come in handy for New Year’s, huh?” Dean said, patting his breast pocket where the envelope of his earnings was stored. After his team was paid, he was left with a little left than $100. “I mean, gonna have to set some aside so Sammy and Eileen can buy groceries for the week, but—” He shrugged, like it was of little consequence.

Dean was no stranger to living with limited funds. He’d done it for most of his life. But Castiel had thought those days had been over for him. Dean deserved to not have to worry about such things.

“We can have a nice dinner at the inn’s restaurant. My treat,” Dean finished with a grin.

Castiel tried to smile at that, despite the guilt mixing inside of him at the reminder of their limited funds.

There was something Castiel had wanted to tell Dean during their trip, but he didn’t know how Dean would take it. After all, it wasn’t exactly the ideal time to retire.

But it wasn’t just the sport of boxing that had crested its prime. Castiel had, too. He was thirty-three years old, and every punch, every blow, every injury was taking a toll on his body more than it had before. His recovery time seemed to take longer after every bout, and many of the aches remained inside his body, becoming a part of his muscles and bones. He was getting slower, more tired. He’d even fractured his jaw again last year, and the bone still hurt when it was cold out.

He was getting old. At least, too old to be a professional athlete. It had taken a long time for him to let go of his pride and admit that to himself. After that, it was easy to make the decision.

He’d already told Michael and the rest of the Garrison team: next year would be his last.

It was time for a new champion to take his place.

He’d been putting off breaking the news to Dean. But he was running out of time. Balthazar and Gabriel were set to make the announcement public in the first week of the year. Castiel was tempted to let Dean find out in the papers, but that would only make Dean angrier. It was probably a bad idea.

“Well, then I’ll buy the most expensive thing on the menu,” Castiel attempted to joke.

Dean scoffed out a laugh. He squeezed Castiel’s leg and let his hand rest there, high up. His thumb stroked the inside of Castiel’s thigh.

The motion made all the dread of telling Dean about retiring drain away, at least for the moment. Castiel only focused on the heat of Dean’s touch. He met Dean’s eyes, seeing the suggestive curve of Dean’s lips and the way his eyes darkened.

Castiel became even more impatient to get Dean alone for days.

///

Bear Mountain House was a stone and wood structure in New York’s section of the Appalachian Trail. The spacious grounds were home to scenic overlooks, hiking trails in the warmer months, an ice-skating rink, and hunting and fishing cabins.

As Dean’s Chevrolet wound its way up the mountain, Castiel watched men coming in and out of the camps of hired workers. They tended to the grounds and roads, blasted rocks from the mountain to load into trucks to take the overlook tower they were constructing at the summit. Most of them were no doubt from the city, sending money home to their families when they could.

In the picnic area, the laborers huddled over the bowls of soup and bread that were being ladled out from a giant pot for lunch. There was a line of more hungry men waiting for their turn. The fluffy snow blanketing the mountain range was jarringly picturesque around them.

The view was much more fitting when they reached the mountain house. The inside of the lobby was both rustic and opulent with its high ceilings and grand fireplaces. Carolers in overcoats serenading the guests the lounge area with an angelic rendition of Silent Night.

Their room, when they reached it, was expansive, with furniture made of light wood and tartan blankets on the bed. The walls were paneled, and paintings depicting nature hung from them. Across the room, velvet curtains were drawn open over the large window. Castiel put his bag on the bed closest to the door and wandered over to peer out at the vista.

The sky was clear blue over the barren, snow-covered trees. Without the obstruction of their leaves, Castiel could see a glimpse of the gray Hudson River. Mountains rose up in the blue distance. It felt like they were lifetimes away from the city.

In fact, so high up, he felt as if he was floating far above the entire world. On top of it.

It may very well be the final time he ever felt that way.

Below, people in winter gear waded through the snow. His eyes landed on specks of tourists sledding down an incline. Others were ice skating in the rink. But what drew his attention the most was the red sleigh gliding over the snow, its bright color sticking out like a neon light. Horses pulled it, giving the visitors inside a ride. Castiel could hear the jingle of its bells muffled by the window.

Behind him, Castiel heard Dean set his own bag on the bed and pace closer. Two warm arms wrapped around Castiel’s middle. Dean pressed his chest to Castiel’s back and pecked a kiss on the back of his neck. Then, he hooked his chin over Castiel’s shoulder to look out the window.

“Not bad,” he remarked. Then, a touch more excited, “Hey, check that out.”

“The sleigh?” Castiel asked.

He felt Dean nod. “That’s pretty awesome. We should do that.”

Castiel set his hands over Dean’s on his stomach. “We can do whatever you’d like,” he promised. “Later.”

Dean hummed. “You got something in mind in the meantime, baby?” His mouth, hotter now, was on the back of Castiel’s neck again.

One corner of Castiel’s lips pulled up. Anticipatory heat curled through his abdomen. He turned around in Dean’s arms, circled his own on Dean’s waist. He splayed his palms on the small of Dean’s back. “Yes,” he answered before kissing Dean deeply.

Dean groaned contentedly into it. He tightened his arms around Castiel and turned them around, their shoes and knees knocking together while Castiel let himself be led. The back of his legs hit against the bed. Dean lowered him down on top of the covers. Castiel’s legs were bent over the end of the mattress. He rounded one hand around the back of Dean’s neck, used his fingers to card through Dean’s hair. He kissed Dean’s face, careful to give gentle attention to the cuts and bruises.

Dean hummed when Castiel kissed the bruise on the bolt of Dean’s jaw. Dean always loved when Castiel kissed his wounds.

“I love you,” Castiel whispered to him. Even after all these years, it was a thrill just to say it.

“You a sleigh?” Dean asked, apropos of nothing. He lifted his head slightly, grinning salaciously down at Castiel, who frowned in question. “’Cause I’m about you ride you.”

Castiel sighed at the terrible joke. It only made Dean rumble more in laughter. Castiel felt the vibrations of it where their bodies were flush together.

“Fine,” Castiel relented, yanking at the back of Dean’s shirt. He played along, “We’ll need a slick surface for that.”

Dean wiggled his brows, his green eyes alight and beautiful. “Got just the thing.” He pressed another long kiss to Castiel’s lips before getting up with a grunt and moving to fish through his luggage.

Castiel shimmied up the bed and began unbuttoning his shirt. It wasn’t long until Dean was back. He tossed the jar of Vaseline on the bed and straddled Castiel’s lap. Dean unbuttoned Castiel’s shirt the rest of the way, kissing him again all the while.

Castiel took his time with Dean, just because he could.

Outside, the tinkling of the sleigh bells rang through the cold air.

#SPN Smutmas #SPNSmutmas #destiel #deancas #destiel fic #deancas fic #dean winchester #dean #cas #castiel #my writing #heavyweight #my post #boxing au

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