Hii! Hope you're doing okay. May I request some of the characters accidentally hitting their calm maleReader instead of the enemy and now he's getting a huge bruise on where they hit him? thx u
Idk how many characters I'm allowed to choose so I'm just gonna name a few and you can pick..? 😅
Jake / Vasco / Zack / Jace / Vin Jin / Warren / Megumi / Goo
Warnings: Mentions of violence, fluff, not really fluff though, cursing, mentions of balls.
Jake • Vasco • Zack • Jace • Vin • Warren • Megumi • Goo
Hey anon! I’m doing good, thanks for asking! ♡︎ I decided to do everyone you requested because yes 😩 I also changed it up a little with the “enemy” part. Some of them are petty interactions, and others are full-fledged brawls lol.
𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐎𝐕
✧ He was focusing a little too hard.
✧ The same mantra kept echoing in Jake’s mind, urging him on: “keep fighting.”
✧ He was just a little caught up in everything, that’s all—
✧ He was absorbed in hearing the definitive crack of his opponents nose, feeling the warm spew of blood that followed a hit to the ribs, seeing the trail of bodies that followed his path
✧ These suckers were really something. There were so many of them, and they had been harassing this area for long enough
✧ Jake had called out to Jerry to ask “Where is he?” But hadn’t gotten a response
✧ Then there’s a rustle behind him
✧ He whips around, just barely seeing the glint of purpose in his opponents eyes
✧ He feels the warm contact of hitting a cheek. But Jake isn’t stupid and realizes his fatal error
✧ I mean… who would’ve guessed that the opponent would duck?
✧ “Sorry (Y/N)! Where’ve you been-?” He pants
✧ Honestly Jake has never been more ashamed. He did hit him, didn’t he?
✧ (Y/N) doesn’t seem fazed, he just keeps up whatever he was doing. “It’s fine… I’ve just been around.”
✧ The man is hardly panting… damn you (Y/N). You’re attractive even when you aren’t trying…
✧ (That’s what Jake thinks anyways)
𝟐𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐎𝐕
✧ As soon as the fight is over, Jake runs.
✧ His dress shoes slam against what bare concrete is left, avoiding the piles of unconscious and semi-conscious bodies.
✧ He tries not to panic. He has to play it cool, and not throw a fit.
✧ Eventually, he finds you talking to Brad, nursing your busted fists with your back to him. Jake let’s out a sigh, “Pretty nasty hit you took there.”
✧ A playful smile toys at his lips as he observes you.
You turn to him, seemingly unscathed, nodding with a small smile, “Uh, yeah. Nice punch Boss.”
✧ He tries not to let the use of formalities affect him too much. (Inwardly wounded)
✧ “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks, this time with a note of concern.
✧ “He thinks he has a concussion, boss,” Brad interrupts, just the hint of a smile intermingled with his serious tone.
✧ You ignore Jake’s slacked jaw and bewildered look, eyeing Brad tiredly, “So much for keeping a secret.”
✧ “You shouldn’t keep secrets from the boss- or your boyfr—”
✧ “(Y/N),” Jake drags his finger beneath your chin, prompting you to turn to him. “Is that tr…ue?”
✧ It’s not the thought of a concussion that made Jake stop.
✧ “Your cheek… is this the one I hit?”
✧ “Well uh~ not to worry you but… it’s bruising just a little~” “It’s fine Jake-”
✧ Apparently he didn’t think it was “fine”.
✧ Jakes brows furrow together as he examines you. With the way his eyes darken and his smiles fades, He looks beyond apologetic; it’s as if guilt seeps into his every movement.
✧ “You don’t have to worry about it,” you smile. There’s not even the slightest hint of anxiety in your voice, but it does nothing to reassure Number One of Big Deal.
✧ “Yeah but you know I will,” he smirks half-heartedly, quickly reverting back to his worried face.
✧ He’s never letting it go. Every time he sees the splotch of that massive dark bruise, he feels the urge to apologize.
✧ It’s beyond an inside joke too.
✧ Anyone brings it up jokingly, and his head sags and a shadow runs across his face.
✧ “Sorry about that (Y/N).”
✧ “Jake, it healed months ago.”
𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐎𝐕
✧ Fights like these were becoming more often.
✧ Vasco was adjusting to the oncoming rush of bad guys. He was confident in his abilities. Sure of himself; he was bound to crush them all.
✧ “(Y/N)? Are you alright?”
✧ His dark eyes scan the battlefield of boys swinging at each other, searching for one man in particular.
✧ He catches him in his sight. (Y/N).
✧ “Are you almost done—” “Euntae, focus.”
✧ The tone of his voice sends a chill down Vasco’s spine.
✧ The cogs in his brain stop working for a second as he continues fighting on autopilot. He wants to keep an eye on (Y/N). He doesn’t want to loose sight of him.
✧ Vasco feels a harsh smack to his ribs, knocking the wind out of him. What was that? His instincts heighten as his body reacts frantically.
✧ He turns to the guy fighting him, readying one of numerous forbidden moves just for him.
✧ Once he sends the guy flying it’s back to looking for (Y/N)-
✧ “(Y/N)?! (Y/N) are you okay!? Please wake up!”
✧ Vasco was reduced to a sobbing mess.
✧ You open your eyes, staring at his red face damp with tears. It’s an odd sight- especially since you only fell down a couple of seconds ago.
✧ “Yeah Vasco… I’m fine,” you offer a small smile. Even if it does hurt, you know making a big deal out of nothing would be problematic.
✧ You act calm. Chill. Even a little nonchalant.
✧ Vasco remains crouched on the ground while you dust off your pants, glancing around the parking lot littered with bloodied “bad guys.”
✧ “You’re positive that you’re alright?” He asks slowly, staring at you with concern.
✧ “Yeah. It’ll probably form a bruise at the most,” you reply. You touch your chest, seemingly unfazed.
✧ You feel awful for lying to him. Your chest feels like it’s on fire. It’s sore and laborious to breathe… but you won’t tell him that.
✧ “Sorry.” Vasco says simply.
✧ No one brings it up until you’re undressing at the Burn Knuckles base.
✧ Everyone is slipping out of their jumpsuits and into more comfortable, casual clothes. It smells sweaty and feels humid… but somehow Leon always manages to steal the bathroom before anyone else. (Thankfully)
✧ You listen quietly, offering smiles as Vasco retells a story about him and Jace, obviously awaiting your reaction.
✧ He doesn’t intentionally flaunt his muscles in front of you… but sometimes it seems that way. That’s partially why you like to keep most of your clothes on around him- so he doesn’t start comparing. 😳
✧ “That’s funny~” you reply to one of his stares that begged for your approval. You lift your shirt off over your shoulders, slinging it around your neck as you grab a fresh one.
✧ The room: …
You: …
You: 🫥
✧ Vasco’s eyes start to gloss over as he frantically grabs your shoulders, examining your bare chest.
✧ “(Y/N)… who hit you?” “I’m sure lots of people did…”
✧ Vasco shakes his head, rubbing his hand across the massive dark splotch that stains your skin. The discolored purple and red resembles a fist… but it doesn’t seem to click to him.
✧ If he means right there… then…. “Probably you.”
✧ You smirk, shaking your head as Vasco stares at you in horror. The bruise doesn’t really bother you- you’re covered in them after today anyway.
✧ Of course you handle his outbursts calmly… reassuring him that you’re not angry.
✧ But he continues, eyes scanning over you for any more bruises that he might’ve given you. “I’m sorry (Y/N)… I didn’t mean for that to happen…”
✧ He apologizes a million times, often quietly and at random.
✧ No- he will not forgive himself.
✧ Yes… he forgets about it for a few weeks before remembering and apologizing all over again.
✧ Jace and the rest of the Burn Knuckles make sure to not ever bring it up again. You also are forced to wear some form of padding under your shirt whenever you get into a fight.
✧ Zack isn’t gonna deny it. That guy is getting on his nerves.
✧ This was supposed to be a hang out with him and (Y/N). They were gonna chill and head to the movies. Maybe do some karaoke later.
✧ Just the two of them. Not even Mira was tagging along today.
✧ But then this guy showed up.
✧ Zack feels himself growing more agitated by the minute. He grits his teeth and looks in the opposite direction, willing himself to calm down.
✧ (Y/N) and him are on a park bench… and this idiot decides to stand behind them and catcall.
✧ Zack is literally seething. (Y/N) has to put his hand on Zack’s leg to keep him from springing up.
✧ “Do you mind reading between the lines?” (Y/N) asks, flashing his three middle fingers before turning to Zack.
✧ “Wanna go to the theatre early? We could walk around-” he whispers, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.
✧ Zack is still irked. His brows are knitted together tightly, but he simply shrugs and nods: “Whatever. Let’s just get away from this dunce.”
✧ The dunce, however, seems to really like being annoying. “Can I tag along with you two-?”
✧ “F*ck off,” Zack glares. He starts walking ahead, curling his hands into fists but keeping them shoved firmly in the corners of his pockets.
✧ He keeps his gaze trailed on the ground, trying to cool off. He’d hate to ruin this hang out with (Y/N) even more. So he’ll play it cool and be the bigger man- like Mira tells him to be. It’s hotter that way. ((Y/N) will think so too, right?)
✧ The smirk that spread across his lips disappears in a matter of moments.
✧ “Nice ass-!” The creep calls.
✧ And that’s it. The final straw.
✧ Zack is going for a straight jab. He’d be caught dead before he let someone get away catcalling (Y/N) of all people-
✧ He turns and slams his fist, making direct contact. He can hear the definitive clack of teeth, he watches as he stumbles backwards.
✧ But Zack realizes what he’s done…
✧ “S-Sh*t (Y/N)! What were you doing there-?”
(Y/N) nurses his jaw tenderly, glaring. He sighs and turns to the guy, telling him to ‘beat it.’
✧ Zack moves to cup (Y/N)’s cheek, looking frantic. He mumbles ‘idiot’ over and over… but more to himself than anyone.
✧ He knows he’s screwed up big time. He’s insistent on helping (Y/N) walk… even though he isn’t dizzy and he claims his cheek isn’t sore.
✧ He tries to forget about it as they watch the movie… but he can’t. As soon as the lights in the cinema flicker on he scans (Y/N) for any bruising.
✧ “I can’t believe it’s so big…”
“I already told you it’s fine.”
“But- argh I should beat that guy to a pulp- you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah I’m sure, Zack.”
✧ He’s apologetic- but still an angry boy at heart.
✧ In his defense- Jace is usually pretty good about “self control” and everything.
✧ He’s also pretty good about it reading the atmosphere. He can tell when the mood has turned sour or hostile.
✧ He’s able to “let it go” when there’s a petty misunderstanding. Most of the time.
✧ But today this one guy (Duri…?) is killing him.
✧ He’s been a nuisance for a few weeks now… but The Burn Knuckles never had the heart to tell him off. Even (Y/N) was pretty chill about the guy- and he was usually more fiery than Jace.
✧ But as of right now, Jace stands idly with Woong and (Y/N), listening to whatever BS that guy, Duri Lee, is spewing out.
✧ Woong and (Y/N) are listening boredly as the one-sided conversation turns from childish comparisons to full-fledged insults.
✧ Duri wraps his arm around (Y/N)’s shoulder, despite (Y/N) having shrugged him off twice already.
✧ Jace feels awful. He reminds himself of how jealous Johan was back during the One Night scandal. It’s embarrassing knowing that he’s feeling jealousy about… this.
✧ He’s not a jealous person… but Duri really gets on his nerves. If he keeps up his stupid act, his stupidity might spread to Jace… and then he’ll do something stupid.
✧ Even as Duri begins to degrade Jace himself, rambling a bunch of nonsense about how he “isn’t as smart as he looks”, Jace manages to keep it together. He feels a twinge of annoyance and glares, but he doesn’t say anything.
✧ The rest of the Burn Knuckles aren’t buying the bs anyway. So it’s fine.
✧ “Know you place, Duri.”
✧ Jace’s gaze snaps over to (Y/N). Did he hear him correctly? Did (Y/N) finally say something? He feels a small smile winding onto his face-
✧ “I know exactly where my place is!” Duri sputters indignantly. His look of shock is short lived and is soon replaced by a smirk. It’s highly probable that he’ll take a pathetic jab at redemption.
✧ Jace hates the way Duri’s eyes roam over (Y/N). He braces himself for what comes next.
✧ “It should be sweating over you, if you know what I mean.”
✧ Jace turns to Duri now, scowling at him, “You wanna say that again? The Burn Knuckles don’t hit on each other, so don’t even think-” “Whatever Jace. Me and him were just gonna do some catching up~”
✧ Duri makes a crude gesture with his hands. He keeps his arm wrapped around (Y/N), who rolls his eyes and glares.
✧ (Y/N) sighs, “Or so you think. You do know that me and Jace are-”
✧ One kick- one harsh smack. Jace doesn’t know what he’s doing- but whatever it is lands Duri facedown on the floor.
✧ He’s startled by his own rashness. Stupidity really is contagious. He frowns down at Duri but doesn’t move anymore.
“Like I said. Burn Knuckle members like you aren’t allowed to hit on their superiors.”
✧ He turns to embrace the startled and disappointed stares from Woong and (Y/N) (respectively)
✧ But naturally, Duri needs to have the last word. Like all PTJ small fries, he wants to sign his death certificate a little early.
✧ “That stupid hierarchy is never gonna get you laid,” he grumbles.
✧ Jace turns and throws all his weight into the kick-
✧ (Y/N) has his arms outstretched in a block, giving Jace an unreadable stare. He sighs, releasing the second-in-command’s foot.
✧ “(Y/N)-” “That’s gonna leave a bruise.”
✧ Jace is sitting with (Y/N) a little latter. He still feels a pang of frustration when he remembers the little situation… as well as guilt for hitting (Y/N).
✧ (Y/N) rolls up his sleeves, looking over his arms quietly. Based on his eerie calmness, Jace can assume that there’s a pretty large bruise forming.
✧ Despite the knowing of guilt, Jace is a tad bit grateful for the intervention. He knows (Y/N) only stopped him for the sake of his dignity.
✧ “You’re not normally so passive-aggressive,” (Y/N) comments nonchalantly.
✧ “I know… I’m sorry.” Jace rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, feeling a touch of color flare in his cheeks.
✧ He promises to help ice it, and assures (Y/N) that he won’t do anything like that again. He just smiles dryly and waves it off.
✧ “You probably won’t have the need to,” he says.
✧ Jace looks up at him, his fingers still gingerly rubbing around the bruise. “Won’t have to… attack Duri?”
✧ (Y/N) nods, “He p*ssed himself, apparently.”
✧ Jace knows it’s wrong… honest to god he feels bad… but he couldn’t help but smirk at the thought.
(I swear I’m sorry this entire thing is a mess. I can’t decide which POV to stick to-)
✧ In his defense, Vin had recently gotten his glasses re-tinted… and so he was having some trouble adjusting.
✧ But it would’ve been nice if he didn’t walk by you in some grubby alleyway. What a nuisance. He just wanted to go home, listen to some rap, and eat his onion rings.
✧ But you… of course… found yourself in a predicament. 😔
✧ “You’re just gonna stand there?” You call, back pressed against the wall as you stare lazily past the punks you apparently offended.
✧ They seem ticked that your attention is suddenly elsewhere.
✧ Vin just stares at you, silent for a moment, before shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s not my problem.”
✧ “They called me a d*ck-” you call. Although the familiarity of the term has nulled any offended emotions, you’re certain Vin has reserved insulting-you-rights for himself.
✧ “Not my problem,” Vin insists, pushing his glasses further up his nose.
✧ The punks continue to close in on you, throwing insults at the two of you- despite Vin being across the alley. You both ignore them.
✧ “Ah- they also called Mary fat.”
✧ “Still not my problem.”
✧ “They said Duke’s music is better than yours-”
✧ “And they called your sunglasses ‘gaudy’.”
✧ Which is followed by silence as one of the punks lowers a cigarette bud towards your cheek. You don’t flinch, staring past his shoulder at Vin.
✧ You wait in anticipation for Vin to say something. Anything. You’re so intent on seeing his reaction you hardly notice the burning sensation of the cigarette nearing your skin.
✧ “No they didn’t…” Vin mumbles. He adjusts his stance- and now you’re sure he isn’t going to abandon you.
✧ “Would you freaks shut up?!” The punk rolls his eyes in exasperation, pulling the bud away from your face and turning to Vin.
✧ “Or do you have somethin’ you wanna say too?” The delinquent flicks the cigarette to the side, staring your knight-in-shining-armor up and down reproachfully.
✧ You inwardly moan. Vin has lots of things he wants to say. It’s best not to get him started.
✧ “You talk too much,” Vin answers, and begins strutting forward.
✧ You crack your knuckles, relieved you won’t have to take them all on your own.
✧ “Anyway this is a waste of my time- so let’s just go (Y/N).” He shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, not at all prepared for the slap.
✧ Yes. A petty, weak, girlish, slap.
✧ A slap that knocks his sunglasses askew. You freeze.
✧ “Hey,” you call loudly, watching as their heads swivel towards you. “Don’t look at him. Say anything and I-”
✧ The loud noise of bones cracking interrupts you-
✧ Vin goes rampant, giggling and grinning like a school girl. Oh hell. You shrug and get into your own fighting stance. “Well I guess he’ll kick your asses anyways- so nevermind…” you mutter.
✧ Those stupid glasses. Distorting his vision all the time. Even…
✧ You feel numbness tingling through your arms as you avoid another swing of your opponents arm. Reaching up with a strike of your own, you manage to punch him in the ribs for a KO.
✧ You’re so focused. Vin is so distracted.
✧ You scan the two other guys already beaten to the ground, and look up to see Vin walking towards you victoriously—
✧ But instead he’s charging you with arms at the ready— “WAIT VIN-!”
✧ He stops mid-swing… but only after he’s felt his skin contact with yours.
✧ The force sends you backwards into the wall. Nausea and dizziness begin bubbling in your body.
✧ You feel your knees buckle and your eyes crossing, and the pounding of your heart is auditable in your ears as you nurse your numb jaw.
✧ Meanwhile Vin just stands there in shock, calling you names while asking insincerely if you’re okay.
✧ “You can’t blame me cuz you were in the way you little sh*t! Ugh… f*ck…” he mutters.
✧ You’re calm while he rambled, but your patience begins to thin as he continues insisting the blame was all on you.
✧ “Vin…” you say calmly. “Would you shut the hell up. If it weren’t for your stupid glasses…”
✧ “Then I wouldn’t have a concussion. Or a nose bleed,” you snap.
✧ There’s silence. Your face is illuminated by the blue light of your phone as you search for the Urgent Care nearby.
✧ “…That does look pretty bad.”
Finally. He has the decency to be a little sincere.
✧ Vin leans in closely, trying to catch your eye. While you avoid eye contact, you are perfectly in tune with his movements.
✧ “I’m taking you to my place,” Vin huffs with a smirk, seemingly trying to redeem himself as he shoves his hands into his pants.
✧ “I thought you didn’t care earlier,” you answer, still scrolling on your phone. Only half-listening.
✧ Then his bulky arm wraps around your torso, and he scoops you over his shoulder.
✧ Not good for the nausea or dizziness.
✧ But anyway…he did carry you to the Urgent Care…
✧ Where he blatantly denies bruising you up, and even laughs a little. (Okay- he does feel a little guilty…)
✧ “(Y/N)-” “I’m not closing my eyes.”
✧ There’s no way you’re letting Warren take them all by himself.
✧ It’s just not happening.
✧ He seems to know. He’s fine with you fighting, as long as he isn’t there to worry over you. He can’t get over the urge to intervene and protect you until the fight is over. That’s always been the case.
✧ “You let Eli fight,” you remind him, turning to face away from him and towards the crowd of delinquents.
“You’re not (Eli. That’s) different.”
✧ You’re not different than Eli? Well then, you’ll take that as a yes… even if you do inwardly know what he was trying to say.
✧ Your shoes slap against the floor as you walk through puddles of water. The day is overcast, just like Warren’s mood.
✧ Soon enough the blood mixes with the water.
✧ The man spits out a tooth as you throw an elbow into his jaw. Your clenched fists shake like leaves as you deliver a kick into his back.
✧ It’s loud- but you can’t even hear the shouts of grunts of the fight…
✧ Just the ringing in your ears. The adrenaline pump doesn’t help… it just gives you endurance and an animalistic will to withstand the blows. It doesn’t help you make decisions, or strike properly.
✧ “Warren-!” You feel your heart beating in your ears.
✧ Warren is smart in his own way. But once his mind is shrouded with concern, he’ll do anything to plow a path straight to you.
✧ Oh? You were just trying to draw his attention to the guy making a lame attempt at a “sneak attack?”
✧ But as it starts winding down and all that’s left are the decently-difficult fighters… Warren feels his heart lurching out of his chest.
✧ “Gotta help (Y/N)…” he thinks to himself. And the thought replays. Over and over. “The mighty Warren Chae won’t let him get hurt...”
✧ Warren didn’t mean to loose focus and body slam you into the wall— but he did—
✧ “You’re…(good?I didn’t see you) in the way! (Sorry!)” His words slur thickly and he skips a few while he’s at it.
✧ Your vision feels fuzzy. Your body feels hot as he presses his rough hands against your neck. But as your heartbeat slows back to normal, and the adrenaline boost wears off, you come to face reality.
✧ “I’m fine Warren,” you assure him calmly. “But don’t get distracted-”
✧ “Then listen to me,” he says firmly. Ignoring the oncoming kick directed at him, he leans (down/up) towards you. “Close your eyes.”
✧ He forces your body into a sitting position on the ground. Your hands shake slightly as you hold your sore shoulder. Your eyes are squeezed shut.
✧ You keep quiet and try to block out the disturbing noises. Shouts of agony, the snapping of bones. It doesn’t bother you as much when you’re fighting together… but knowing Warren is going rampant makes you uneasy.
✧ “Okay… open your (eyes).”
✧ Warren is already kneeling beside you, brushing his calloused hands around your torso to (take off your jacket and) lift off your shirt.
✧ You feel the cold slap of breeze against your skin 💨 👋
✧ Warren’s droopy eyes look a mixture of sad-dog and irritated-cat. How could he mistake you for the enemy?
✧ Guilty… frustrated… concerned.
✧ He rubs his rough palm against your shoulder. His thumb pad traces circles around the large bruise that’s forming.
✧ The longer you sit there, the darker the bruise seems. And it’s making Warren a little paranoid.
✧ “It’s getting worse-” he mumbles.
✧ “I’ll treat it back home.”
✧ “Alright… take me to bed I guess.”
✧ “Bed rest. I meant. Not really like that.”
✧ “…I was gonna say. I’m not sure if you’re up for that.”
✧ Yeah. It’s time to shut up.
✧ Is Warren sad? Yes. Guilty? Yup. Frustrated? Very. It’s never happening again. You’ll probably never be allowed throw a punch in his presence ever again.
✧ Magami curls his toes into the sticky martial arts mats that line the floor. Even though it’s night outside, the training room is still illuminated by tube lights overhead.
✧ Practicing his karate, even when the room is empty and less stuffy, still feels constructing in the mask. It’s still not as bad as it is in the arena.
✧ He practices the fluid motion of his kick again.
✧ Then the movement of his strike.
✧ He hears the door creak open. Kenta swears that if Nomen tries to interrupt him with some annoying sh-
✧ A best of silence passes as he distances himself from the sandbag. Maybe it wasn’t Nomen after all.
✧ But then there’s a voice that sounds out-
✧ Magami feels the blood rushing to his face- and without thinking he swings his leg for an ushiro geri-
✧ He feels his foot connect with wood, snapping through the barriers and splitting the cypress in half.
His pulse remains sickeningly fast as he straightens and turns to face the back.
✧ He was right. It wasn’t Nomen…
✧ Instead, Tanuki - you - stands rigidly behind him, cupping your face and the shattered splinters of wood.
✧ “It’s just me, Daruma…” you say quietly, still standing stiff and in shock. You stare at him with half of your face naked and exposed while dragging your finger across your damp cheek. Blood. You’re bleeding…
✧ “Don’t get in my way again.” That’s his reply.
✧ His voice is deep and muffled. A better mask for his emotions that’s the actual mask that he wears. You can tell, out of perceptiveness, that he’s a bit flustered.
✧ His brows are drawn together tightly and his lips purse from behind his disguise. He feels his heart hammering in his chest.
Why Tanuki…? Of all people.
✧ You tuck your free hand into your pocket, removing the remains of your mask with the other with calm precision, nodding understandingly.
✧ “I was coming to tell you how late it was,” you drawl.
✧ This is why Kenta thinks you can be an annoying prick. You stand there in such a relaxed pose, voice drawing reactions out of Kenta he has no control over.
✧ His eyes are wandering. Tanuki (you) was always more appealing to Kenta than the others, to an extent.
✧ “How late is it?” He asks.
✧Tanuki wasn’t as annoying as Nomen, and he carried a conversation better than Hyottoko. Hanyya was always accompanied by Nomen, so that was a no-go. And Tanuki was much less obnoxious than Shiba Inu.
✧ “The circus is starting in an hour. It’s that late.”
✧ His eyes wandered up from your dress shoes, your suit pants… and flickered over that iconic, unmistakable bulge that earned you the Tanuki alias; across his chest and up to your cheek.
✧ Kenta’s attention was fixated on your cheek. With the mask no longer covering your face, he could see your features for the - third time?
✧ And your cheek, he notices, is bleeding.
✧ “You’re gonna form a bad bruise if you don’t ice that,” he remarks all of a sudden.
✧ He moves to unbutton his suit and change into the convict clothes. Keeping his focus away from you.
✧ “Oh…” you murmur from behind him. Even without looking, Kenta knows you’ve begun touching your cheek gingerly again. “Well it doesn’t matter. It’s always covered up anyway.”
✧ Kenta doesn’t feel as guilty about it as he does embarrassed. And it’s not really- embarrassment… just- he just feels flustered.
Actually, at this point he isn’t sure how he feels.
✧ “Ice it.” This time it’s not a warning, but a command.
✧ “I will… I will. Afterwards. You need help-?”
✧ At this point, Magami is convinced Tanuki could pull off any pose and turn him on. He feels riled up and agitated as you lean to help unfasten a particularly stubborn button.
✧ “…Don’t be a d*ck, Tanuki.”
✧ “‘No thanks’ would’ve sufficed.”
✧ You proceed to unfasten his shirt anyway. Kenta’s face remains impassive, but he won’t deny his gratitude for the mask policy right now 🫣.
✧ He stares at the bloody, darkening splotch on your cheek. Unmistakably the result of his kick. He also notes that you look good without the mask.
✧ Once he slides out of his shirt and into the bright orange one, he brings up his finger to tap harshly against your face.
✧ He starts unfastening his pants. As he bends down, he can’t help but sneak glances at your limp bulge tucked away in your own slacks. He really disgusts himself sometimes. But you’re so damnably attractive, it’s almost annoying.
✧ Rephrase: it is annoying.
✧ You adjust your stance, shifting your weight from leg to leg and crossing your arms. Damn you. Kenta almost chokes.
✧ “Will do,” you chuckle.
✧ “Don’t make me kick you again.”
Cough- cough… ☞︎ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
✧ “Don’t wander off too far boo~”
✧ You feel a little exasperated. As Goo Kim’s secret friend, you’d think he’d treat you more like an equal. Or at least have confidence in your capabilities.
✧ And how did you end up being singled out as his ‘dearly beloved’ anyway?
✧ As you land another hit on some poor punk’s ribs, you feel your promise ring scrape his skin and draw blood.
✧ So… seeing as you’re wearing that ridiculous price of jewelry… you sort of already know how that story ended.
✧ But it doesn’t matter. You’re tying to stay level-headed as you fight, and your ‘future spouse’ being obnoxious isn’t soothing your nerves.
✧ In fact, you can’t recall a single time fighting with Goo was therapeutic. So I guess this isn’t anything different from the norm.
✧ “What’s for dinner?” You ask boredly. You sink into your toes and dodge a wild swing, kicking the kid in the gut.
✧ “Whatever you feel like babe!” Goo replies energetically as he finishes bashing in some heads.
✧ “I could go for some bird meat,” you muse quietly as a new onrush of guys heads your way. It’s a wonder than Goo hears you.
✧ “Ooh- okay! How about chicken?”
✧ Goo swings a crowbar around expertly, a more focused expression on his features. He takes a moment to reply. “Nah… I hate the flavor.”
✧ “…Or just… embrace it I guess. You look hot either way, babe.”
✧ “Kim… remember our conversation about clear communication?”
✧ “Uh huh? But I did warn ya!” “We were literally talking about birds.”
✧ You snap a guys wrist without even looking, glaring (up/down) at Goo.
✧ The rest of the fight you ignore him. Your expression remains neutral afterwards as he takes you to the urgent care.
✧ “At least it hit you in the shoulder!”
✧ “Yeah- I wonder where it would’ve hit me if I had ducked.”
✧ “Stop being all calm and angry at me boo! It’s creepy!”
✧ “…Alright. Whatever Goo.”
