#boxing au

[tsukisrants]

First Prize - Jeon Jungkook

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 3.068

Warnings: Boxer!Jungkook, Possessive Behavior, Violence, Spankings, Manhandling, Dom/Sub undertones, Name-Calling, Hair-pulling, Fingering, Rough sex, Spit, Creampie.

Summary: "I need these eyes, little one. I need my number one fan, huh? Or I'll lose my mind, and we don't want that, do we?”

smut under the cut

A blow.

Another one.

The pungent smell of blood intoxicates him.

His mixed with that of his opponent.

Anger rises in his chest, overwhelming and distorting him.

Clouding his senses.

The gaze of the audience turned towards him. People look at him and devour him with their eyes.

Among them, yours.

You, who look at him with your childish eyes.

With that curiosity and desire.

Your eyes, his fuel.

Everything around him catches fire.

The flames blaze uncontrollably and his body is moved by an intoxicating adrenaline that creates addiction.

Despite the pain, the fatigue.

He wins.

The opponent falls to the ground.

He, on the other hand, stands triumphantly.

The shouts rise, the screams caress his ears, and he revels in every moment of glory.

He was born for this.

You, on the other hand, tremble.

You look at him with dreamy eyes, as you have been doing for a long time now.

Since you were dragged, against your will, to one of these fights.

You didn't want to come at all, but in the end, you gave in, and thank heaven every day that you did.

You saw him, and since then you have done nothing but come back.

Come back to him, for him.

Enchanted, bewitched.

At every encounter, you stand in the front row.

At every encounter, you have eyes only for him.

You scream his name, you smile.

You smile and everyone's eyes are on you.

But yours? Yours are only on him.

Your gaze belongs to him completely, like every single part of you.

And fuck, he likes it.

Jungkook lives for the desire he has for you and for the desire you have for him.

At every encounter, he checks if you’re there.

But as always, he does nothing.

He looks at you.

He observes you, and burns your skin with those dark pits.

Jungkook keeps playing this little game with you for a while.

Then, one evening, you don't show up.

You miss a fight.

You didn't want to, but exhaustion didn't allow you to move.

Too tired from work, you skipped a fight.

That night, they had to urgently take Jungkook's challenger to the hospital.

Furious, he ended the evening by downing a bottle of vodka, and then picking a fight with a group of idiots, emerging victorious.

Jungkook never loses.

At the next fight, you are there.

You are there, you have returned, and when you look at him, your curiosity turns into confusion, then fear.

In his eyes, the deepest darkness.

Jaw clenched, he delivers precise and devastating blows.

He wins, because he can't do otherwise.

He wins, and you timidly exult.

He steps down from the ring, drinks a drink.

He downs it in one gulp, and you remain enchanted watching his neck shine under the dim light of the gym, his Adam's apple moving up and down.

He redeems the winnings, and leans against the wall.

His friends congratulate him, now accustomed to his successes.

He crosses his arms, and then you notice.

Jungkook is looking at you.

Your hands tremble, and you look around, as if to make sure that he is really looking at you.

You want to run, to escape from him.

But your body seems unresponsive.

It is no longer yours, but his.

Dominated by his eyes.

With a nod of his head, he gestures for you to follow him.

Before you can realize it, you are following him.

A dark corner, and a hand that grabs you.

He pulls you.

You are in a room you have never seen before, you realize it is the room where he prepares before the fights, before dominating the whole world with the strength of his fists, of his body.

"You weren't there last friday," he says.

You gasp, trying to find the words to answer him, completely caught off guard.

"I-I... no, I wasn't there," you reply.

He approaches you, making you step back.

Your body collides with the wall, and he towers over you.

One of his hands next to your face, and you feel your breath catch.

With the other, he grabs your chin.

He forces you to look at him.

You part your lips, and you have to forcefully suppress the moan of astonishment that tries to escape from your throat.

"Don't do it again. Don't miss again, I need you there."

His confession leaves you stunned.

Your confusion clear and evident on your face.

"I need these eyes, little one. I need my number one fan, huh? Or I'll lose my mind, and we don't want that, do we?"

You shake your head. No, you don't want that.

God.

He needs you.

He just said it, and he did it with his eyes locked into yours. He meant it.

He means it.

"I will never miss a fight again, never," you promise him.

As you say it, you truly believe it. You would be ready to do anything for him, and it doesn't matter if you don't really know each other: you belong to him.

He smiles, and Jungkook's smile scares you.

It excites you.

It makes your panties wet.

You feel warmth spreading through your body, your skin filled with uncontrollable shivers.

"Good girl," he says.

His words burn: they set your mind to flames.

There’s nothing in the world you want more than to hear those two little words over and over again.

As he speaks, the hand that was holding your chin moves.

Jungkook rubs his thumb against your lips, his tattoos marked with scratches and splatters of blood make the image even more exciting than it already is.

Jungkook pushes his finger into your mouth, pressing it against your tongue.

The taste of his salty skin is enough to elicit a faint moan from you.

"These eyes, little one. They make me want to hurt you, do you understand? I want to destroy you," he growls, hungry.

He pushes his finger even deeper into your mouth, making you gag.

Jungkook fucks your mouth with his thumb, and you take everything he gives you.

You cough.

He moans at the sight, releasing your mouth.

A trail of saliva connects his thumb to your parted lips, and Jungkook's breath becomes more labored. Heavier.

"Do it. Hurt me. Do whatever you want to me," you beg him.

In an instant, he grabs you by the hair.

His hand tightens with force at the base of your neck.

The strength with which he pulls you excites you: you love the idea that he can do whatever he wants with you, that Jungkook is so much stronger than you that he can bend you and fuck you whenever and wherever he wants.

A cry of pain escapes you, and he laughs.

Jungkook laughs as he drags you by the hair across the room, until he positions you in front of a table.

Once there, he forces you to move as he pleases, shoving you around like a rag doll.

He pushes you down, bending you over the table.

You flinch, tears of pain streaming down your cheeks, meeting your lips, still wet with your saliva.

You feel the taste of your own tears, let it intoxicate you.

The cold surface of the table against your cheek keeps you anchored to reality, and when Jungkook pushes your face forcefully against it, you find yourself squeezing your thighs together.

You love to suffer for him.

You've dreamt of him at every encounter, and finally it's reality.

He’s finally giving you the pain that you craved for so long. Too long.

"From now on, you're mine. Say it."

"I'm yours."

Then, he spanks you.

Hard.

Jungkook's hand collides with your ass, again and again.

Over the skirt you're wearing.

The black one, the one you know is a provocation made for him.

Designed for him.

The one that hugs your body, short in just the right places.

Then, he pulls it up, making it tangle around your waist.

He grabs your panties, and then Jungkook tears them.

They're the pink ones, with the sweet pattern you love.

He loves them even more.

Jungkook gets off to the thought of corrupting you, ruining you for anyone else.

Scraps of fabric from your ripped panties fall to the ground, forgotten.

"If I see wearing a skirt like this again I’ll make sure you regret it, you hear me? You don’t wear shit like this, not without me, do you understand?", he asks.

In another circumstance, you would have probably screamed and resisted.

But now, for him, you would do anything.

Everything is so wrong that it feels so fucking right to you.

When you don't respond, he spanks you one more time.

"Do you understand?", he asks again, leaning forward to grab your face, pressed against the table, and forcing you to look at him.

Your gazes meet and you feel insignificant under the weight of Jungkook’s.

You love feeling this way.

You don't want to be anything other than a little toy for him to use and fuck.

"Y-yes! I understand!", you exclaim.

He smiles satisfied, before pushing two of his fingers deep inside your mouth.

In their rightful place.

With his other hand, he unbuttons his pants.

He pulls down the zipper, then pushes them down, letting them slide down his thighs.

You can't see the scene clearly, but you hear the metallic sound of the zipper being pulled down, the buckle of his belt briefly hitting the table.

He lowers his boxers, stained with his pleasure: a wet spot that marks the level of his desire for you.

He pulls out his cock, and you widen your eyes.

It's big.

Thick, long, and shining from how wet he is, drops of pre-cum sliding down his pulsing tip.

You want it in your hhmouth, in your pussy.

"Good girl, lick them for me, make them wet," he encourages you.

He fucks your mouth with his fingers, once again forcing you to choke on them, pushing them deep into your throat.

As he watches the scene, he touches himself.

His hand moves quickly against his cock, his hips pushing forward in a desperate attempt to receive more friction.

Jungkook grunts and hisses in pleasure, gritting his teeth and wetting his lips with his tongue.

Then, your mouth is left empty.

Jungkook brings those same fingers between your legs, rubbing them against your pussy, before plunging them into you without any regard.

"So tight, so warm for be, fuck...", he murmurs.

He's not talking to you, but to himself.

As if you are nothing more than a little fuck-toy. Nothing more than a flashlight.

Perhaps you really are nothing but that.

He moves his fingers quickly, thrusting them inside you.

The sound of your wetness, of your pleasure, echoes in the room.

It’s all so fucking messy.

You are wetter than you have ever been before, and it is solely and exclusively for him.

Hot droplets of your juices splash down his hand, down his wrist. The veins of his forearm popping out with the strength that he’s using to finger-fuck you.

You feel your wetness trickle down your legs in rhythm with the thrusts of his fingers inside you.

As he touches you, he rubs his cock against your flushed and sensitive skin, against your ass.

He leaves behind a glistening trail of his pleasure, his pure desire for you. Your ass wet with his pre-cum.

When Jungkook deems that he has stretched you enough, he pulls his fingers out of your pussy.

You feel empty without a part of him inside of you, and it feels so wrong not to have him inside of your body.

"Open," he orders, tapping those fingers on your lips.

You open them, and he forces you to taste yourself, pushing those wet fingers against your parted lips and then against your tongue.

"You make me so horny, baby..."

When he's satisfied, he cleans his fingers on your face, on your cheeks.

He grabs you by the hips first, then his hands slide down your body: he spreads your legs, firmly grabs your ass, and keeps you open for him.

From above, he lets his saliva slide onto you, onto your throbbing pussy.

He spits on your pussy and the sound is enough to make you moan loudly, gasping his name.

Your fluids mix, becoming one.

He rubs the tip of his cock against you, pushing it inside your pussy.

Just the tip.

It's not enough, not even close to being enough for you.

"Beg me. Beg me to give you my cock, come on, you fucking slut," he groans.

You can clearly feel that Jungkook is teasing you.

The humiliation burns fiercely in your stomach, and only serves to make your pussy even wetter for him.

You are now lost in your own perversion, and decide to let go.

To embrace your deepest desires and needs.

"G-give it to me. Please, Jungkook, please... fuck me, fuck me..."

He does. Jungkook satisfies you, because he can't resist when you beg him so sweetly to fuck you.

"Fuck, baby," he pants.

He buries himself in you completely, and a moan similar to a scream escapes your lips.

Your folds open up to accommodate his length, the lips of your pussy hugging him tightly as your tight walls suck him in.

"You're such a dirty little whore. You like getting fucked like a bitch in heat? You were made to take my cock, made to get fucked like nothing more than a flashlight."

You tremble. You nod and moan.

Jungkook laughs as he fucks you. He laughs at the state you're in: desperate and lost in the pleasure that he is giving you. His cock thrusts inside you again and again, hitting all the right spots, driving you crazy.

"Yours. Only for you. Your whore, only yours, y-yours only, J-Jungkook please..."

Hearing you say it drives him crazy.

He grabs your wrists and, pulling at them, he holds them behind your back, bending your arms.

With one hand, Jungkook keeps you still, gripping your wrists so tightly that you're sure you'll wear his marks for days. While he fucks you he releases the adrenaline of the encounter, the anger of not having seen you last time, and the explosive desire he has had of you for weeks.

He spanks you.

Again, and again.

He does it until the mark of his hand is imprinted on your ass, a mark that will last on your skin for a long time.

You are his.

His and only his.

You belong to Jungkook.

With each spank, you thank him.

He grits his teeth, thrusting into you forcefully and violently. He pushes his cock into your wet pussy with precision and fervor.

The sound of his length slamming into you makes you tremble, it's a sound so obscene, so wet that it brings you close to the edge.

He understands, recognizing the signals of pleasure building relentlessly in your belly.

One of his hands slips between your legs, his rough fingers teasing your swollen and pulsating clit.

He moves his fingertips against you in fast circular motions, in rhythm with the impetuous thrusts of his cock.

You pulse around his length, the orgasm getting closer and closer.

"Come. Come on my cock, little one, go ahead," he growls, abusing your clit until all you can do is tremble, caught in spasms.

Jungkook's voice caresses your ears and gives you the final push you need to finally let go and surrender to pleasure.

"C-Cumming, K-kookie! F-for you, I'm cumming for you!"

You cum, just like that, trembling and covering his cock with your pleasure.

Drops of it splash down his cock, and your pussy pulses against him again and again, making him grunt and moan.

Even Jungkook trembles.

He leans forward, burying his face in the hollow of your neck and bites you.

He bites your shoulder, sinking his teeth into your sensitive skin, and Jungkook buries himself even deeper in your hole, now almost at his limit too.

You are exhausted, hypersensitive. Your clitoris begs for mercy, and he shows a little compassion by stopping teasing it.

He pants against your neck, his warm breath colliding with your skin, and your body feels like it's filled with pure electricity.

Then, he grabs a piece of skin between his lips and starts sucking.

Next to the bite, a purplish bruise now occupies your otherwise pristine neck.

Despite the tiredness, despite your body begging for mercy, you take his cock, again and again.

You let him use you to pleasure himself.

You let Jungkook use you to empty his balls, thrusting inside you as much and as hard as he wants.

"I'm gonna cum, fuck, kitten..."

You beg him to do it, to fill you up, to mark you indelibly.

You beg Jungkook to cum inside you, to give you every drop of his thick, warm cum.

"Take it. Fuck, baby, I'm cumming. Christ, can you feel it? Feel it, feel my cum inside you, take it all, every fucking drop."

As he says this, he releases your wrists, now adorned with the marks of his hands.

Deep bruises that will hardly fade.

He grabs you by the hair and turns your face to the side.

He kisses you, bites your lips.

Jungkook's saliva mixes with yours and drips onto your chins.

"All my cum in your pussy, little one. The best pussy I've ever fucked, all mine..."

With these words, he buries himself in you one last time, fulfilling his promises: he fills you. He claims you. He makes you his.

Hot spurts of his cum fill you, and part of you believes to feel every drop filling your pussy.

He thrusts into you and both moan in unison, seized by violent spasms of pleasure.

You both stay still for a while, locked together.

Your breaths mirror each other.

You both tremble and gasp.

Jungkook gently kisses your shoulder, right where he bit you minutes ago, leaving the mark of his teeth.

The gesture is gentle, contrasting with everything you just shared.

Yet, it feels so right.

"Mmh, baby. Here it is, the first prize," he whispers, softly rubbing his cheek against yours.

You smile, reveling in his tender caresses.

Despite his words, though, you feel that in reality, it is you who have won.

[valleydean]

CHAMPION

Posting begins 4/13/2024 Part III of Heavyweight a deancas boxing au by valleydean (emmbrancsxx0) read parts I & II on ao3 | playlist

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.

[moonlessoul]

"I'll win"

[frightshack]

into the ring

[nctsplug02]

Jaehyun boxer au needed ASAP!

[9:43PM]

GENRE: fluff and smut

WARNINGS: hair pulling, oral sex (M receiving), face fuck and praising.

you exit the bathroom, your body wrapped tightly with a white fresh towel— along with your hair.

you’ve been home alone since seven— it was now nine— so, seeing your husband sitting on the bench in front of the king sized bed scared the living hell out of you.

“holy fuck, jaehyun.” you gasp, holding your chest. “you’re so lucky i don’t have my firearm with me.” jaehyun softly smiles and continues to unwrap the kumper from his knuckles.

“oh,” you say when pumping some moisturizer onto the tip of your fingers. “i’m sorry i couldn’t make it to your match. i forgot that we had conferences today.”

that’s right— you’re a first grade teacher. you’ve been a first grade teacher for three years and the students there absolutely adore you— along with the teachers.

“it’s fine, baby. i understand.” the white kumpers sitting next to him as he unwraps the other hand. “there’s always next time.” you smile— you were so glad that your husband was the type to understand.

“something’s off,” you turn around and jaehyun glances up at you. “you seem.. off? like, you’re usually hyped when you get home but.. you’re awfully quiet?” jaehyun softly sighs and shrugs.

“did you lose your match today?” he shakes his head. “no, i won. like always.” jaehyun says with a slight smirk. “it’s just.. my good luck charm wasn’t in the crowd tonight.” you bite your lip.

and this dick says he isn’t romantic.

cheekily romantic.

“i’m sorry, honey.” you walk up to him and you sit in his lap. “forgive me, ‘kay?” you wrap your arms around his neck and press a kiss on his cheek.

jaehyun stays silent.

what was he thinking about?

“okay?” you lift jaehyuns face before he pushes you off his lap. odd. “what’s wrong?” you remove your arms from his neck and then you go to take a step back until his arms draw you back in.

“take your towel off.” o…kay.

you do so without having to be asked, again. jaehyuns eyes never left yours as you peeled the towel away from your body. your nipples harden from the cold air—the air conditioning was blasted because of the heat outside.

“on your knees, baby.” you bite your lip, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and.. from being turned on.

you nod and sink onto your knees. “now, undo my pants and sit back when you’re done.” you gulp and reach for his sweats, pulling at the strings and tugging his sweats and boxers off.

you sit back after his sweats and briefs are pooled at his ankles. doing just as you’re told to.

jaehyun smiles in satisfaction. you listened so well— not wanting to disobey him, of course.

“do you want to suck my cock or do you want me to fuck your face?” never has he asked like that. although being married for several years— he’d always make you nervous. just from the slightest questions.

“can.. we do both?” jaehyuns grin grows wider. “aren’t you a greedy one.” you lick your lip before biting it.

jaehyun takes his cock and softly jerks himself while holding eye contact with you. “you wanna suck my dick?” you’re too busy drooling over his cock, that you answered a few seconds after his question. “yes.. i do.”

jaehyun lets out a string of low groans and mutters before continuing. “beg for it, baby. beg for how much you want to suck my cock.” you could physically feel your pupils shake.

“please,” jaehyun tilts his head with his eyes slightly squinting. “i can’t hear you too well— try speaking up, baby.” you bite your lip.

you usually aren’t this shy with him.. but tonight felt.. different?

“please,” you inhale, looking down at your lap. “may i please,” you bring your eyes up to jaehyuns and frown your eyebrows. “suck your cock.” that’s enough for jaehyun to give in.

with eagerness hiding behind your flushed cheeks— you grab ahold of his ten inch cock and you gulp. lathering the inside of your mouth with saliva before sitting up on your knees and taking jaehyuns tip into your mouth.

“fuck,” jaehyun sighs and tips his head back. “that’s it, baby.” a small smile grows on your lips when feeling his hand drop onto the back of your head.

“take me in slowly.” he whispers.

your saliva coating his length as you move down it per second. your eyes slightly squeezing shut when feeling them water as his tip meets your gag reflex.

your mouth stretched at his thickness and salivated around him, drooling through the sides of your lips.

jaehyun lets out a groan and tangles his fingers with your hair. you take your hand away from his shaft and you let jaehyun take the lead. his hand pushes your head down and pulls it back up with a tug.

“your mouth feels so fucking good wrapped around my cock.” you’re too busy gagging around him to pay attention to what he’s saying. your gargling and gags blocked out every sound.

you gag around his base and jaehyun softly laughs. “that’s a good girl,” he hisses. “choking on my cock and still taking it down like a good girl.” your core getting wetter with each praise.

the sloppy sounds of your mouth taking jaehyuns dick easily earns jaehyuns cum down your throat. jaehyun yanks you off while groaning and grunting before jerking himself off.

your face messily painted with white streaks of cum. “fuck, baby.” jaehyun groans, rubbing his tip and finally letting your hair go.

“mm.” you scoop a bit of his cum off your face and onto the tip of your finger before licking it. “mm.” you hum, again.

“so fuckin’ sexy for that.” jaehyun chuckles and leans forward— his lips melting against yours before pulling away.

you rest your hand on his knees. “better?” jaehyun licks his lips and hums. “not quite.” your eyes slightly widen— choking on his cock.. didn’t brighten his mood?

jaehyun looks down at his dick that sat brick hard against his belly. “why don’t you come take a seat, hm?” he holds his cock up and you give him a look.. a look that said you’d been waiting.

[kxxkiecxre]

ʚ✟⃛ɞ Like a Moth to a Flame || J.J.K ʚ✟⃛ɞ

PAIRING: Jungkook x Reader/x jimin.

SUMMARY: Your best friends older brother meant more to you than just a friend, unfortunately it’s a little too late now.

WARNINGS: smut implied on multiple occasions.

GENRE: best friends brother au.

WC: 5.4K

//unedited, y’all should get the gist by now :’)\

NEXT

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PERHAPS **the most **important part of being someone’s best friend is being honest, truthful and sharing everything you can. And if you can’t share a secret with your best friend, then it most be something she can never find out. Right?

Exactly.

Which is why you’re currently biting your nails, sitting like a duck on your own egg shells. Hoping to god that your reddened cheeks can be blamed for the spicy jalapeño pizza you just shared between each other as well as the many soju bottles. However you cannot be 100% sure everyone is buying your little gimmick, seeing as he’s staring at you with an amused smirk, pretending he’s all too interested in making himself a cup of tea.

Why does he have to be like that? Besides he wasn’t even suppose to be in the house in the first place, Yeji explicitly told him to leave the house since she’s going to throw a small birthday party for her 20th. Doesn’t seem like he got the memo from what you can see.

“Anyway,” yeji, cuts herself short, “what’s the dirtiest place you have had sex in y/n”.

Cheeks reddening to a beetroot red, you clear your throat slightly, looking around the table before choosing your words carefully, “back of his car”.

“Just back of his car?”

“At the rear parking lot of 7/11, at midnight”, you finish.

“Risky, wouldn’t of said such an innocent little Angel like you would actually commit such a heinous crime huh” he voiced his opinion without missing a beat, watching as the death glare formed on your face.

“Don’t act like you’d even know what having a bit of fun means,” you scoff, Yeji oblivious to your little game.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself y/n,” he warns with a slight smirk, sipping his tea.

“Don’t project your insecurities on me cause you can’t get bitches Jungkook” you roll your eyes, clearly not amused by his obvious teasing.

“I’m sure you’d know” he chuckles, exiting the kitchen and leaving your almost growling at the kitchen table, where everyone’s eyes are on you.

“What… was that?” Sujin asks.

“What was what!” You didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but with Jungkook’s teasing and shit eating grin engraved in your mind you felt like popping.

“That roast battle?” Yeji asks, “by the way you ate him up”.

“He had it coming” you slumped back into your chair, sipping your sweet old whiskey mix.

Yeji brings her hands up in surrender, letting the subject drop faster than a needle to the ground. It’s not that there was much she could ask. You never made it super clear that her brother angers you so much that you wish he’d rearrange your guts on more than one occasion. But like mentioned, not everything can be shared, somethings are just better left unsaid.

After a few more hours of drinking past your limit and eating way too many spicy foods, you felt like you’ve had your fun. Ready to leave the party right after everyone has gone and dusted. But Yeji was too good of a friend, too sweet and protective. And who were you to give up an immediate soft place to crash on?

“Yeah but where would I stay, it’s not like,” you hiccuped past your slurred sentences, Jungkook right behind you and Yeji, chuckling to himself as he watched both of your try to speak in your slurred states like two toddlers trying to learn to speak for the first time, “we could fit on the same bed, because let’s me be honest ji, I’ve got a fat ass and your single bed will not handle me”

She pondered for a second, lips formed in a cute pout and eyes wide despite the droop from the alcohol in her system. She was the spitting image of her brother, except in female form and a lot more daintier, “take Jungkook’s bed, he’s been an asshole anyway”

You snort unattractively, hand covering your mouth as you and Yeji fall into a fit of drunken giggles, almost falling over while leaning on each other for support, “okay, I’ll leave a bunch of cockroaches behind too”

“No I’m serious,” she whines slightly, “it’s not safe to go home now, and Uber drivers are perverts.”

“I’ll just walk I’ll be fine Ji,” you grabbed her shoulders, confident in your remark but before you could even take the slightest step to the door, Yeji has other plans.

In the process of trying to grab your shoulder, she accidentally grabs your boob, rather harshly at that, and because of the slight pain that you still have in your freshly pierced nipple, you almost fall over in pain, “ow my boob!”

“Oh shit sorry!” She chuckles, “hey, at least the piercing feels nice!”

You smirk at her, keeping eye contact as you stumble closer to her, “it looks even better in real life”.

“I know,” she giggles, “because I’m the one that put it there”

Once again falling into a pit of giggles with a traumatised Jungkook behind you, you finally reach your end stage of being drunk, a small sob leaving your lips, “can I actually sleep in his stinky room?, what if I get kidnapped on the way home”

“Of course you can,” Yejis lower lip trembles, finally reaching that stage with you, “can’t she Jungkook”

Jungkook shakes his head in disbelief, not quiet sure how you guys got to this stage since he left with his tea and what’s worse is he hasn’t realised that to your drunken eyes it looks like he just said no, so now you’re not sobbing, you’re practically wailing together, grabbing each other’s hands like it’s the end of the world.

“He really is an asshole” she wipes her eyes, “all the times Y/N, bought you banana milk and you won’t let her sleep in your room!”

“I-“ the poor man tries to defend himself.

“And all the times I’ve got you gimbap!”

He sighs in defeat, muttering incoherent words to himself as he finally leans off of the wall and stalks over to both of you very gently and slowly, “first off, I did not shake my head-NO- and second of all, please stop staring at me like that I feel threatened-“

“As you should” his younger sister practically growls.

“Anyway, y/n, why don’t you go and make yourself comfortable in my roo-“

“I’m sorry if I obliterate your bathroom with vomit, I really don’t mean to” you sniffle, right nostril blocked from crying.

He blinks, mentally counting down from 10 and begging god for patience because not only is there a possibility he’ll have to clean your vomit up and be there for you because his sister will be sleeping like she’s dead, but she’s currently pss’pssing as if there was a cat in the house… which there isn’t.

“It’s okay, just please, go to sleep”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Maybe the smarter idea would of been to stay at home after literally burning your entire digestive system with alcohol not even a four days ago, but despite that, and the lack of a boyfriend, somehow, you have found yourself immersed by yet another tequila drink and music booming around your entire aura. Hips swaying side to side and hair absolutely going wild after you have successfully lost your hair tie around two hours ago.

Yeji was no better, screaming down the phone to her annoying and hot brother, who apparently is very pissed and worried because he’s had a tough training with his coach today, and now his night is going to be filled with yet again taking care of two drunk messes. She keeps yelling at him, telling him she’s absolutely not giving him the name of the bar you’re currently trashed in. You vaguely hear her scream a bunch of curses at him before your attention is diverted to a pair of hands on your hips.

Turning around to meet this gaze you find probably one of the hottest creatures of man kind. With hooded dark eyes, and pink floppy hair and luscious plump lips he looks like a sinning Angel. His pearl white teeth sink into his plump bottom lip, the cross necklace on his dark shirt stealing your attention as you start dancing with this handsome stranger, absolutely perfect.

Without much thought to your current situation, you signal to Yeji that you are leaving with, Jimin, as you learned his name is. Right the second Jungkook enters, expression clearly not amused by your little escapade with his sister. You giggled to yourself as Jimin chuckled, helping you into the taxi.

And by the time you could really think about what you’re doing, his cross is swinging by your face as he hovers above you, kissing his way down your body right after giving you the best orgasm you’ve experienced, eyes sultry and lips coated in your essence. You were on cloud nine as he left marks on your neck and chest, rubbing his thick cock along your folds, before sliding in with ease, gasping as you clench around him, watching as his expression twists into ecstasy, he was gorgeous. Railing you like there was no tomorrow, and you know for fact you will not regret this night, not even in a million years.

Waking up the next morning was a daze, finding yourself nausea but not throwing up, and laying down next to a extraterrestrial being, you got out of bed in a rush, realising you promised Yeji to grab hungover brunch together. The man beside you groans, stirring awake, “sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up”.

“You don’t have to do the walk of shame babe,” he chuckled, voice incredibly arousing, stirring something deep inside your stomach.

“No-“ maybe that was too quick of a reaction, “it’s- I meant to be meeting my friend in ten minutes for brunch, and I don’t want to be late.”

He gets out of his bed, watching you as you put your clothes on deciding to do the same, “maybe I could drop you?..”.

Your lips part in thought, “Uhm are you sure? You don’t have to if you don’t want to, you don’t owe me anything actually yesterday night was amazing-“.

“Do you really not remember me?” He asks with a soft chuckle.

Your brain stirs, realising the familiar gaze, voice and eyes. He definitely changed, but good god did he even get hotter, and maybe you were to drunk to realise yesterday that his name was literally the same as your ex friends with benefits partner.

“Holy shit!” You exclaim, to which he laughs gently, now dressed in grey sweats and a black shirt.

“I see time did you good y/n”

“Fuck me did it do you good” you laughed, slipping your red dress back on, cringing a little.

“Do you want to borrow some clothes?” He asks, already going to his drawer full of hoodies and sweats.

“I mean if you’re okay with it-“

“Come on don’t act like we didn’t use to do all the time” he hands you a brown hoodie and black sweats.

Smiling a little, you slipped the clothes on he gave you, watching as his eyes gleamed with a certain twinkle, “so? You disappeared for five years Park, where have you been?”

“Studying in Canada, I came back because I got a good job offer here” he mutters as you head out of his apartment, and straight down into the underground parking lot.

“Oh, damn. That’s nice, I’ve still another year of studying to do unfortunately” you chuckle a little, buckling your seat belt as he starts his car.

Within small talk you get to the small cafe by Jungkook’s place, being met with the man himself and his younger sister. Jungkook does not look pleased at all, a prominent scowl on his face while he glares at his whining sister, but in all fairness, he looked absolutely ravishing. In blue ripped jeans, and a white polo shirt. Hair slightly messy but never the less he looks gorgeous, just like always. With your stare on him and voice more clear he whips his head up, noticing you with a man is quite the strange sight for him, and he’s not really sure why he all of a sudden feels even angrier than he was during training.

Sitting down next to Jungkook and Jimin next to Yeji, you sigh, the crispy breeze of autumn absolutely devouring your lungs, “remind me to never drink again hm?”.

Jimin chuckles before you realise you never actually introduced him, “oh right, guys this is Jimin my friend, Jimin Jungkook and Yeji my best friend”.

“Ah the famous Yeji”

“Famous?” Your best friend managed even though her voice was ragged just like a cat being dragged through her vocal chords.

jimin chuckles a little, rearranging the cap ingulfing his hair, “yeah, Y/N wouldn’t shut up about you yesterday night, kept complaining saying you’ll be concerned, but to be honest you didn’t seem all too worried yesterday night’’

Yeji hums, squinting while the sun shines in her eyes. you on the other hand whine, hand covering your stomach while you pout a little, clearly very hungry with your hungover. Jimin picks up on that, smiling a little before ordering you a smoothie and an acai bowl. how sweet. seemingly, though, Jungkook doesn’t quite like the picture in front of his eyes, muttering something incoherent under his breath, and while you notice you choose to blame his sour mood on his training.

‘‘so kook, how was training’‘, you ask, nibbling on your paper straw.

‘‘good’‘ is all he answers, clearly not excited to overindulge you.

‘‘when’s the upcoming fight’‘, you say, trying to make it clear you’re devoting your entire attention on him.

he sits up in his chair, still slacking but not as bad as before, one hand under his chin as he looks into the small cafe, “friday week” he answers.

“are you excited”

he scoffs a little, “you could say that”

Confused and slightly baffled at why he’s giving you the cold shoulder you sigh, closing the menu you were scanning for no apparent reason and stand up of your chair, “kook, would you mind going in with me for some water?”

He looks at you with minimal hesitation, “for.. water?”

“Yeah,” you mutter softly tilting your head trying to make it obvious to him that you are trying to to talk to him in private, “water”.

He licks his lips swiftly, clearing his throat and following your lead, watching your back with intent, wondering why the hell you’re dressed in oversized mens clothing, when suddenly, like a lighting strike just hit him, he realises.

Once at a small corner at the cafe away from others he looks you dead in the eyes, clearly some type of emotion swarming his head as he suddenly looks slightly pissed off, body tense and brows stern, “you slept with him”.

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. Like he was there last night and saw all the things Jimin did to you. Shocked and maybe a little shy, you gulp, “well… it’s my life. I can choose who I sleep with..”.

He scoffs with a slight smirk, no, not the type of smirk where you want to kiss it right of his lips or the type you want to smack away because he’s cocky, no, the type were he’s clearly pissed.. beyond pissed, “why him?”

Now you were getting agitated, foxy gaze hardening and cheeks warming to a serene pink, “why not him!”

“Because!” He controls his voice, looking around to Make sure he hasn’t captured any unwanted attention.

“Because?” You questioned, clearly baffled now at where this man has gotten his audacity.

“Goddamnit y/n” he sighs rubbing his face with his hands.

“What’s so wrong with him that I can’t sleep with-“

“He is my fucking opponent this Friday.”

“Oh”

He stares at you, tight lipped and fuming, and all though you know better than to continue egging him on. You still open your big mouth, “well I don’t know how that affects the fight since it’s my vagina and not yours he fucked”.

Blinking about a hundred times in one second he literally just stands there for a solid minute trying to decipher what you had just said to him, “I don’t have a vagina”.

“Sucks for you I guess” you shrug your shoulders with a straight face.

He bites into his lower lip, clearly not amused by your little shenanigans, inching closer to you, he has a certain glimmer in his usually brown eyes, with just a little sheen of cloudy darkness, “I promise when I win that fight, I will prove to you that no other man will *ever *compare to me… physically…mentally” he moves in closer, just an inch away from your ear, “stamina wise,” his hot breath on your delicate skin was exciting, hairs rising on your neck and goosebumps forming, “and bed wise”

With his final words he moved away from you slowly, before tucking your hair behind your ear all while you’re sure someone has electrocuted your insides. Maybe this man is trying to kill you, maybes he trying to tease you or perhaps, he means what he says.

But two can always play the same game, “well,” you give him your best innocent look, “I hope you’re a man of your words, good luck.. Kookie” swiftly moving around him, you shoot straight for the door, heart racing and insides melting. what . the . actual . fuck.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Fuming… that’s what you are right now. Angrily stomping your way to the familiar building you dig your nails further into the palm of your hand, cheeks blushed with the anger coursing through your blood and face stern. Not quite concerned with the people, most of them already know you.. and who you are coming to see, it’s pretty obvious.

Coming up straight to the punching bag the tall man is apparently taking his frustration out on, you bit into your lip. Calming your breathes and trying your best to not pop, “I will personally take a rope, put it round your neck and choke you. Who the fuck do you think you are”.

Not really paying attention to you, or more so being bothered by your outrage because he’s expected this, he throws a mere glance your way before speaking up again, “do you have anyone else to bother but me?”.

Rolling your eyes so far back into your skull that it physically hurts, you give him a sarcastic laugh, “you’re so funny don’t you think? Stay out of my business Jungkook. I’m serious”.

He stops punching the bag, holding it in place with his gloved hands, “you, got into, my, business, first.”

At this stage you will need all mighty gods strength to stop yourself from absolutely obliterating his face right this second, “fuck you Jungkook, you’re so fucking annoying. YOU are not my brother, YOU are not my father or my boyfriend. YOU do not dictate who I can fuck and who I can’t. Stay in your own lane”.

Suddenly angry, deep frustration taking over his eyes, darkening his orbs to a colour almost unrecognisable, “do you know what he says about you?” He stalks towards you, almost like a prey to its victim, “do you know how he tells everyone of his friends he fucks your everyday? That you’re desperate? Choking on his fucking dick? My entire friend group has been bombarding me, telling me my sisters best friend is getting railed by my opponent, never mind that actually, it’s the fact he has so little respect for you. I promise you, when I’ll be in the ring, he won’t come out of my hands alive”.

Throwing the gloves off his hands to the floor, he walks to the locker room with one last look at you, but you’re stupid, and not at all listening to your rational brain telling you to let him cool down, “well I just think it’s stupid you’re so willing to risk disqualification over me”

He chuckles emptily, “so I’m stupid because I care?”

“No, you’re stupid because you’re risking the biggest fight of your career.”

“So help me god Y/N,” he stands up off the bench, sweaty figure close to your body to the point you can feel his heat radiating warmth onto your skin, “I’ll do it all again and again and again, if it means you get the respect you deserve.”

Because you absolutely have no self control and curiosity always gets the best of you, you look into his eyes and ask, “why do you care so much?”

His expression turns soft, eyes melting every worry, anxiety and pain away, “because you’re my friend too, and my friends mean a lot to me.”

Understandable, but despite the feeling that there’s more to this words than he lets on, you nod in slight agreement, “fine, I’ll stop seeing him”.

He says nothing, simply turns around and begins to take his shirt off, “you might wanna wait outside unless you want coach to explode with anger”.

The hardest part about being alone is… being alone. Simply put. There is only so much a person can do by themselves, and sure it’s relaxing to be alone sometimes, but not all the time. It gets lonely, dark… soulless. Not only in the caged four walls of your home, but generally speaking. A human needs another human, it’s instinctual, it’s inevitable. Just like any other creature, a soul needs a partner. Surely, by now you’d have found someone if you were interesting enough, but in all fairness, you seem to be probably the most general, imperfect and boring person alive.

Staring at the ceiling for what feels like a decade, which in reality was an hour, your mind sinks deeper into your feelings, into the depth of your heart. It almost feelings like your brain is rummaging around, throwing things randomly while accidentally continuously hitting that one spot, that one spot that hurts. And since it’s busy, it doesn’t help you find out why exactly it hurts. It makes no sense. Being in pain, without a source. Without a reason, without pain.

Most people like to believe that their one and true love will come by, wether that be in five minutes or twenty odd years, you choose to not be foolish. You don’t believe in falling in love instantly, you don’t believe in love at first sight. Call it depressing, but you like to believe you’re quite the optimist. Just not in this scenario.

Any sane person would probably avoid walking in lashing rain to ease said -pain without pain- situation, but that’s exactly it. You’re not sane enough right now. You’re not exactly functioning properly, is it because of the lack of humanly touch? Or because the last time you saw another human being was when Jungkook almost killed Jimin in the boxing ring? Sighing you shrug your coat on and leave your apartment. Forgoing your umbrella.

What happened that day? What got into him? That despite the fact you begged him hours before to not hurt him too much, he went further of your plea and obliterated Jimin. The screaming and roaring in his apartment didn’t help his busted lip, but during that heated fight were Yeji stood in the hallway door silently crying as both you and him swore to never even look each other’s way again, you left a tiny yet crucial part of your being with them.

What the fuck happened that day.

To put it short, Jungkook wasn’t handling everything well, and when you pushed through into his place, he scoffed, asking you to leave. Maybe you should have, but you weren’t just pissed that he hurt Jimin, no, you were pissed that despite everything you begged him for, you especially begged for him to not get this disqualified. And sure it’s not the end of his career, but it was not needed. It was not necessary. Yet he’d gone and did it, which is why you started yelling, and from one word to another, both of you started cussing each other out, the entire argument was pathetic but it thought you many things, and it’s only been a month since that said fight, yet all of you is slowly dying and you don’t know why.

Maybe ignoring Yeji was not necessary, but if you talked to her, you knew it would blow up in your face. It’s too soon, too soon to be even near him.

*“Are you crazy” he yelled, anger at a boiling point. *

“*Maybe I am, but fuck Jungkook you got yourself disqualified!” *

*“So what?” He scoffed bitterly, “stop pretending like you give a shit about me” *

“*Oh that’s just pathetic” you sighed rubbing your forehead. *

“*So now I’m pathetic too?” *

“Yeah as a matter of fact you are! You’re pathetic, pathetic for throwing away your chance like that” you yelled, sure you face was getting red.

“*And you’re just a naive little girl, grow up Y/N, open your fucking eyes, stop trying to find good in everyone, stop believing everyone, stop trusting everyone! Stop sleeping around with everyone!” He yelled back, equally as pissed. *

Your face dropped, a needle to your heart, that’s what his words felt like, “oh that’s just low Jungkook, that’s just low even for you. Fuck. You don’t get to do that, you don’t get to call me a whore or whatever else because what I do with my body is none of your business. You’re so low for that Jungkook, that was a douche bag move”.

“*It’s the truth!” He countered, not looking in your eyes. *

“*Yeah,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, fighting the tears back from your eyes, “you’re right, I’ll stop being naive, I’ll stop trusting people, as a matter of fact Jungkook, I swear I will never look your way again, I promise you’ll never hear from me again and I’ll make sure that the last you’ll see of me is if I were to die. I swear on everything that is dear to me in this world”. *

“*So do I” he shrugs, taking another sip of his beer. *

*Without looking back, you stormed out of his apartment. Desperately trying to stop the tears flowing from your eyes, but your efforts were just that, efforts. *

Crazy is what it was, it was a spurt of dumb non meaningful words. It was like spinning in a tunnel of webs, with absolutely no way out. Like sitting in four walls painted black with no escape. Like sitting ducks waiting to be eaten by their prey. It was in the heat of the moment. Yet it hurts like hell, maybe because you’re crazy in love with him, or maybe because it’s just that. Love.

*Not sure when he’s arrived at your house or how he got in, but he stumbled in regardless, holding a bag of snacks, drinks and a bottle of red wine with a small smile on his pouty lips, “horror marathon?” *

*Giggling you nod, watching him slip of his shoes and coat, neatly placing them beside yours. He practically skips his way to your small living room, cozying himself up beside you and nuzzling his nose into your arm like a dog would to get head rubs. *

*within half an hour into the movie you find yourself running your fingers through his silky hair as his head laid on your stomach, sleeping peacefully. He was beautiful, serene and too cute for his own good as he breathed in softly. He was as lovely as he could be, kind yet teasing but he always took care of you, even when you wouldn’t realise it, and you’re not exactly sure why, but it didn’t matter. *

It was hard to look back at the memories, it’s like knowing a stranger who knew all your secrets, a soulmate who wasn’t meant to be. How incredulous. How generic, the girl who doesn’t believe in true love, falling so hard and so quick, it’s honestly laughable. A joke. Maybe even a whole circus.

*“Okay, but under the condition that I get to braid your hair?” He bargains. *

*What was there to bargain? Well you wanted to put mascara on his lashes since they’re so curly and long, but of course he has to bargain, “wait really?” *

*You couldn’t careless that he’d braid your hair if you’re honest but rather you couldn’t believe he actually agreed at all, “mmm only because I love you so much” he said, holding your waist as you sat on his lap on your bed. *

“That’s literally unbelievable!” You gasped after generously applying the mascara to his lashes, “can I please take a picture?” You begged.

*“what- no absolutely no” he shook his head *

*“oh but please kook!” You whined, pouting a little to make sure your charm was working, *

*he squirmed a little before mumbling, “fine but you have to put it as your screen lock for three months and you have to pinky promise it!” *

Staring at your lock screen, you feel your heart break just a little more, you can feel it get squeezed and beg to be let go off, but despite its efforts the band tightens a little more when you remember where you are, and where you’re sitting.

*sitting beside you on the dirty old bench He looked absolutely adorable as he sipped softly on your pumpkin spice latte, face lighting up as his taste buds responded well, and you could swear his eyes had little stars splattered around his pupils. He was incredible, in every sense of the word. *

“It’s amazing wow” he says after awhile, the snow beneath your feet melting at the sight of his adorable pink cheeks.

*“it is isn’t it?” You hummed, smiling softly. *

“*No like it’s literally beautiful Y/N” *

*you giggled at that, taking the sip he offers you so kindly, his upper half covered in the mustard color puffered coat you bought him for his birthday. *

You hated reminiscing, because it’s not snowing right now, and he’s not sitting beside you melting you down with his soft gaze and what became his pumpkin spiced latte, instead it’s pouring rain, with thunder rumbling the skies and your soaked and absolutely freezing.

*Giggling you begged him to stop, but instead he continued tickling your sides demanding an apology and a kiss to his cheek, “I promise I won’t slap your butt again!” *

*His attacks stopped, “now the kiss” and as obedient as ever you did as he asked. *

You were sort of thankful for the rain as it disguised the stream of tears running down your face, hiding the entire pain your body was engulfed in as you watched the deserted streets.

“Yeji would absolutely kill you for being here right now”

Which was your bed, doing something he absolutely hated, cuddling. “Yeah well she can suck it because it’s her fault, she threw a goddamn party”.

“*I know, I was suppose to be there” *

“awww sucks for you I guess, besides I am the party”.

In dire need of warmth you finally got up from the bench, heading back towards your apartment like you should have done a long time ago. What you thought would of been a source of stress relief was instead the opposite. Barely feeling your hands you stuff them in the pockets of your coat, that did absolutely nothing to keep you warm.

And as you stare ahead, you see him. You see him strolling ahead under dressed for this weather just like you, he noticed you too, and for a second you thought everything that happened within that month, was just a fever dream, but you realise it’s just wishful thinking.

And just as promised,

You walked by each other, without looking each other’s way.

**A/N: I’m sorry if it’s rushed I’ve literally wrote this in under an hour while at the ER lol. I hope you enjoyed this! Leave a comment or request if you have any! **

MASTERLIST

NO REPOSTING, EDITING, TRANSLATION OR COPYING OF ANY OF MY WORKS!

[kkencess]

one night, levi ackerman.

𖤐 summary ─── a young woman in the medical field is assigned to care after a worldwide known boxer, levi ackerman. a man whose arms she found herself awakening into, the previous morning.

𖤐 status ─── currently unfinished, still being written. will reveal the word count after i sum it up soon, still a bit new to this!

𖤐 warnings ─── nsfw content, sexual content, bloody descriptions, cheating while engaged, kinks mentioned in chapters, and descriptive fighting scenes. get ready to be on your toes with this book! chapters are in order beneath this border! 

𖤐 chapters ─── prologue. chapter one. chapter two. chapter three. chapter four. chapter five. chapter six. chapter seven. chapter eight. chapter nine. chapter ten. more chapters added later! book isn’t complete.

© kkencess. don’t steal my work, please.

[vernasce-blogs]

I just got… ✨inspired✨ to write a professional boxer or MMA gojo x reader fanfic , coming up soon (eventually)

[hellcheercaine]

"If you want some, come get some, pretty boy," Billy teases, his footwork synchronised to the beat of Survivor's Eye of the Tiger. Anticipation is in the air, each working punch a testament to Billy's relentless pursuit of perfection.

"You talk too much, for a loudmouth yourself," Steve remarked, narrowly avoiding a left jab. Boxing is Billy and Steve's favourite pastime, and the ring is their haven after a long day at work. As such, Billy relies on defence strategies in the veins of kickboxing, while Steve relies on his agility and the technical finesse he gained from his Muay Thai lessons.

Their conversation is interspersed between rounds, and a camaraderie rises from the furnace of their competition. Billy and Steve fostered a deeper connection for boxing, as they pushed to improve themselves, and their resiliency towards life's obstacles. Out of a sudden, Steve got distracted from Billy's jab and got hit by Billy's right hook. "Lights out, pretty boy!" Billy yells. Steve falls to the floor, the impact of the fall echoing through the ring. After taking a moment to busk in his victory, Billy walks over and seemingly offers his hand for Steve, a sign to help him up.

As their hands clasped, Billy whispered, "I told you to plant your feet." after noticing that Steve had regained composure from the blow. Instead of lifting him up, Billy puts Steve's hand and walks off. "What was that for?" Steve remarked, unsure of Billy's gesture.

"In life, it's all about getting up by yourself after getting knocked down. While it's good to have friends, there are some things you have to do on your own, and that is today's lesson." "Oh." Steve quipped, trying to soak in the lesson that was taught to him. It eventually dawned on him—the essence of boxing isn't just about winning, but the lessons learnt from defeat and rising up from them. Steve gets up and pants towards Billy. "Good fight," he extends a hand towards Billy. "Looks like you got a fire in you, huh," Billy smiles, acknowledging the handshake. "No matter what, you'll always be King Steve to me."

[michichi69]

Jack n Joyce standing boxer au, pretty please

'Jack Norman with a Dear Friend' - 1926

[wolfgirlandfarmboy]

Red...Red Beans boxing AU 😳

Specifically Jack being the up and coming boxer and Nana, obviously not a boxer because she would KILL everyone in the ring, being his supportive girlfriend who also gives him pointers sometimes.

He has a coach but like...Nana can still give him pointers.

A part of me wants to go the extra fun route and have Nana's dad be alive in this universe so he can be the coach and teach him how to box just because him meeting Nana through her dad would be very funny and kinda spicy.

Nana's dad isn't the type to be like "YOU CAN'T DATE MY DAUGHTER" but Jack would still be nervous to tell him. He'd def have his suspicions of course, especially if during training or fights, he notices Jack pull some shit he only knows Nana for doing (since he would have been the one to have taught her how to fight in the first place when she was a little kid). So he'd just be like "Nana's been giving you some pointers, huh?" with a slight grin.

"Y-yep"

"..."

"..."

"So how long have you been dating my daughter?" And Nana's dad's grin becomes a bit bigger where you can SEE his fangs.

The man KNOWS she's quiet and she's never taught anyone before so by process of elimination, he just knows they are close. And those bite marks Jack constantly struggles with hiding are just dead giveaways he ain't just best buds with her.

He wouldn't be pissed the two are dating, he supports it since he knows Jack is a good kid. He just doesn't like the fact they've been sneaky with it so he is 100% making Jack run a mile for his jog that day.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Retired!Ghost x Newcomer!Soap - Boxing AU

[MY MASTERLIST]

Rating: G Words: 600~ Pairing: GhostxSoap CW: mention of painkiller addiction and alcoholism, mention of sport-typical permanent injury

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish who has just begun his boxing career, who is aiming for being at the top of his weight class, and is deemed a worthwhile newcomer by fans of the sport.

Soap who rarely loses a match, who never gets KO'd. Soap who has a signature move that everyone knows, a move that kids everywhere like to copy in the school playground.

Soap who earned his nickname from consistently "wiping the floor" with his opponents.

Soap's PR manager, Gaz, who has his work cutout for him because Soap literally never shuts up and talks a lot of crap about other boxers in press interviews and on social media.

Soap who's cocky and challenges everyone and anyone to get into the ring with him.

Soap who challenges the wrong person, a very famous boxer who's known for brutalizing his opponents and putting many legends out of commission.

Soap's manager, Price, who is scared shitless when the other boxer accepts the challenge. Price who knows Soap is too cocky of a bloke to admit he's going to lose.

Price who calls in a favor with Ghost, whom he also used to manage/represent, begging him to mentor Soap for a month, until the date of the scheduled fight.

Ghost who used to be an absolute legend of the sport but vanished off the face of the Earth after he got demolished by that same boxer, who, back then was just a fresh face in the scene, and somehow KO'd Ghost within the first round.

Ghost who got a concussion so bad from that KO that it had irreversible consequences to his physical and mental health and had to quit his boxing career and retire... and ended up getting addicted to painkillers and alcohol.

Ghost who is so bitter from his career loss that he doesn't even keep up with the sport anymore so he has no clue who Johnny is, but who feels like he owes Price a favor, and is surprised to find, in his research, that Soap actually has potential.

Ghost who shows up to observe a training session and starts giving grumpy advice, which Soap, being cocky, doesn't take, seeing Ghost as some random old man who stumbled in and thinks he knows anything (especially because Ghost looks homeless in a dirty hoodie and jeans and shaggy hair/beard + smelling like booze).

Soap who ends up getting suddenly confronted by Ghost and getting his ass handed to him before he even saw it coming, which causes Price (who's in the sidelines) to laugh his ass out.

Soap who looks up at Ghost while on his back on the floor of the ring and, even though he doesn't know Ghost's face, he recognizes his eyes immediately. "Steamin' Jesus..."

Soap who immediately bounces up to his feet and geeks out about Ghost, gushing about how many times he watched him on TV, about how he was a huge fan growing up and had posters of him all over his bedroom walls.

Ghost whose whole shtick was wearing the skull-printed balaclava and the fact that every time he won a match he'd add another skull tattoo to his half-sleeve, until it extended all the way up his bicep into a full-sleeve.

Ghost who earned his nickname because he moved so fast around the ring that he basically danced with his opponents.

Soap who begs Ghost on his knees to mentor him, to teach him all he knows.

Ghost who, for some reason, can't say no...

Ghost who's first advice to Johnny is to "shave that stupid bloody mohawk".

[valleydean]

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.

[dimicul]

🎲 simon as a boxer - a sample if you willl

There wasn’t a lot Simon lived for, but when he was in this ring, he had everything.

Nothing compared - there was barely anything he could describe to be as special when his fists are landing on the opponent opposite him, lungs squeezing every drop of air rattling between his ribs. He found it hard to believe people didn’t enjoy this; your mind burned into a division of loss and glory, the cold fury burning in the rims of your vision, movements quick and agile.

It was easy - it was black and white. He’s slick his mind to the rigid rules of the match, knuckles flexing as he’s sizing up his opponent. This performance of war was one where your morals diminish to nothing and melt putty through the ground. Here, he knew what he had to do. A silent message, nothing more than a mutual understanding spoken between you and the man in front of you.

But you, you were something fucking else.

There’s no rules. No regulations, no red neon sign pointing at you - you weren’t prey, definitely weren’t no opponent. You were grey. A complete mesh of the rules he had learned, your voice and touches crossing the wires in his head until they burned and severed.

He finds it frustrating. You bubble around, your perfect soft hands wrapping around his bicep as you walk, talking about your plans for that night or suggesting some spontaneous drive. Simon was someone to have a routine, to perfect and structure over it until he’s sure there’s no flaw in sight. Duck. Aim for the liver. Swing. Duck. Swing again, left hook, manoeuvre.

But when you waltz into his own heaven, you slowly turn it into his personal little hell.

[lexa-griffins]

She's a lady

[copichains]

Boxer lapis 😩💦 drawing this made me feel things