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kentocalls · 4 months ago

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togame jo | telegraph sfw. established relationship. the soft aftermath of togame saving you from punks. alternatively i learned a word from a fighting reference and this fic was born. i'm really nervous posting this, i really like togame so i hope i do his character justice.

at the final round of the boxing match you look away, not sure how jo can watch the violence. you're peaking at jo's face. frowning when you see he's got a cut on his chin, how'd you miss that?

you should clean it. he catches and kisses the hand that reaches for the scratch, slightly surprised to see your eyes already on him, you look back at the tv screen.

"he's going to lose huh?" the fighter in blue shorts is doing bad.

"yeah, he's gonna lose. a fighter who telegraphs their moves is bound to lose. makes them predictable."

"telegraph?" your eyes fall back to his, he smiles at your question. you're always so curious about things he's into. it makes him oddly happy.

"telegraphing in boxing is when a fighter makes it blatantly obvious what they're going to do. rookie mistake." you try to keep your eyes on his, but the way he's speaking, the way his lips are flush and full. you catch yourself staring and look away. a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

"so you're always thinking when you're fighting?" he hums, wanting to look at your pretty face. your eyes find his when he doesn't answer. "trying to not telegraph?"

"that's right, a good fighter always needs to be thinkin' too. can't just reply on instinct. gotta look for openings, feint, dodge. can't let them know," your eyes fall to his lips again, you haven't noticed his arms are locking you in place. "what you're about to do, otherwise you're screwed."

you frown at that. there's so much danger in his world. and you... you got him caught in another mess. no wonder the rival goons were laughing, you were probably too easy to predict. "and i let them read me, you got hurt."

"don't worry about it. it's just a scratch." his nose brushes against your own, "i've had worse." his eyes on your lips.

"sorry jo...if i called earlier when they were at the cafe..." and he's shushing you with a gentle kiss, unhurried, unrushed. you didn't know he could kiss like this, he's lips are so soft.

your eyes still linger on his lips after the kiss. you feel so much for him, too much for him. "you need chapstick." you offer, looking away. he chuckles, "sure i do." you're such a cute liar, he's been using the vaseline balm you gave him diligently.

an alarm sounds on your broken phone, you rush towards it. grabbing the pain pills, jo knows he won't win and holds out a hand, "did you eat?"

uhh, choji wanted to give the goons an early surprise, and then he had some duties downtown and did he eat after?

"togame jo." you huff "you can't take meds on an empty stomach." he protests, trying to capture your lips against his again, he claims he's big and strong and doesn't need to eat. you huff and shush and get out of his grasp. a clear testament to the amount of main he must clearly be in.

there should be bread and some toast. something easy and simple. you're all but prepared but the damn strawberry jar is shut so tight. you groan and grip and twist but damnit. there's a cut on your hand your dominant hand that you ignored, its annoying and red, and your non dominant hand is clearly useless.

"oh? can't open it yourself, need a big strong guy huh?" you would roll your eyes at him but when he takes the jar from your hands his eyes catch the cut. his body freezes.

not only your cheek but your hand too? those assholes, if had been a little faster-- "jo, i'm hungry please." you interrupt, refusing to let both of you relieve the park incident. the lid opens so easily in his hands, it looks comically small. but he doesn't return it.

"you're hurt, i got this babe." you mean to say, it's not that bad, but when you look at the cut, it is kinda gross. you should wash it. jo has already spread way too much jam across two slices of toast when he's lifting you onto the counter, examining the scratch. eyes serious. "i'll clean it, don't worry."

"let me." and with the most tender hands, he runs. washcloth over the cut, grabs a hodge podge of supplies and dresses the wound with so much are. you're not surprised he knows how to do this, just surprised he doesn't do this for himself. eyes taking in his concentration, you don't even notice when he's done. when did he cage you in? when has his face gotten so close.

his jaw goes tight, there is a bruise forming on your cheek. fuck. he's gone soft hasn't he? that's the only reason anyone would dare think you're touchable.

"i'm sorry jo. i...i don't like you being hurt because of me. " your hand finds his cheek, you try to offer a short kiss but he's not having it. pulling away, this is his fault. he won't let this happen again.

he places the toast next to you, feeling himself shut down. his voice cold "eat." it's all his fault. they should've immobilized the gang members in the morning, he should've let choji--

he knocks into the couch with his injured leg, a rough grunt escapes and you're already zipping to him. "hey, i got you." he doesn't need you to support him, it's not that bad, just painful. nothing new to him. but you? it shouldn't happen to you.

the look of worry on your face too, he caused that. "togame jo." you pull his face down to yours, both hands firm, "don't you dare." you can see he's falling into hold habits, taking the burden of everything on his shoulders again, "the idiots fucked around and found out right? they're not going to bother me or you again."

you convince him to eat, get him to eat medicine and watch the rest of the match. overly concerned jo is going to shut you out, he's tried before. lasted a full two days before he found himself back at your side.

the medicine has him nodding off, you're so quick to notice. he can't hide from you can he? "bed, jo, your back is gonna hurt if you fall asleep here."

"alright, alright," jo mutters, "lead the way babe. don't expect me to be a good patient."

"you will be the perfect patient." you squeeze his hand, leading him through the familiar space. jo can't help but queeze your hand back, a bit harder than he would usually do.

"oh, perfect hmm?" you catch something in his emerald eyes, and ignore it. happy he's being cooperative. you pause when he starts to climb into bed, pulling him back.

"you can't wear outside clothes to bed jo."

"yes, we can."

we? oh, "it's okay if i spend the night?" you weren't expecting anything, truly only concerned about getting your big tough guy to bed. "i wouldn't have it any other way doll."

"well i'm not wearing outside clothes to bed, that's gross." you scrunch your face and it has him rolling his eyes, hiding the smile cascading his features. "you serious babe? no outside clothes at all? i barely touched anything"

"guess ill go home" you make to loosen your hand from his but he's standing, a little wobbly due to the injury on his leg, "fine, fine. you can borrow somethin' of mine, but don't go spraying it with your perfume or something, got it?" oh he absolutely wants his oversized hoodie to smell like you.

"something soft please." you wait, taking in his room, the sheets are actually clean ones. they're in your favorite color, there's a photo frame with you and him on his bedside table. the room looks suspiciously clean, are you going to find empty bottles under the bed?

"i gotcha, i gotcha" he rummages through his closet, pulling out the softest hoodie he owns, "this good babe?"

your tiny yay has his heart summersaulting and he rummages for his own set of 'inside' clothes. both of you have changed by the time your eyes connect again, "huh, looks good on ya," his eyes linger on your exposed skin before flicking back up to your face, you don't like that grin.

"sleep time jo. no funny business." your waving a finger at him, "i'm only staying to make sure you get rest."

"no funny business huh?" he's in your space too quick, it always catches you off guard how quickly he can move. "can't even get a goodnight kiss?"

this guy, "you already got one, jo." you move to push him to the bed. you can tell the medicine will kick in soon, he takes you with him. he acts offended, "one isn't enough, i need more."

your hand cards through his hair, you think about it. you'd like it, of course you would. but jo doesn't stop at one. he starts to pull out the big guns, pouting, pulling you so that you're straddling him now, the hoodie exposing more skin.

"come on, don't make me beg." hands tracing up your sides.

a blush on your skin, "i don't know jo, i like that idea." if you play with the nape of his neck, will he fall asleep? his eyes are growing heavier. but you underestimate his persistence. "you really gonna make me beg for a kiss, ain't ya?"

you make to pull away, he's a lot more alert than you thought, but his hands on your hips are firm, keeping you in place. you can barely move an inch. "nu uh, where you trying to go? this is a serious conversation." his voice is anything but serious.

"i need to brush my teeth, silly." he sighs.

"you don't have to do that, don't make me wait for a kiss while you brush your teeth." god his eyes are something else, pulling you in, you feel yourself leaning closer.

"you," you sigh, feeling his breath on your lips, "you should brush yours too." he chuckles at that, pulls away. "fine, fine, but you better make the wait worth it."

the mouth on this guy.

your injury isn't as bad as jo's you realize with how slowly he's moving, he takes his sweet time brushing his teeth and finishing up his night time routine. by the time he walks out of the bathroom, his expectant smirk softens to find you already asleep.

figures he'll get an extra reward for being good and waiting all night for one kiss. shakes his head at his own thoughts and slips slowly next to you, careful to pull you close but not onto his hurt leg.

automatically you're snuggling into him, your expression softening in your sleep. he wraps a big arm around you, pulling you snug. you're not leaving his chest until he gets twenty good morning kisses. closing his eyes to the soft sound of your breathin he feels his body finally relax.

your whispering in your sleep, he makes out a "you're stuck with me jo,for..ever."

he's so happy you can't see the fat smile on his face. you're so adorable, too cute. he needs to tuck you away from the world forever. "i don't mind being stuck with you babe." he knows you won't remember this conversation, risks a bit more, "forever sounds pretty damn good to me."

"'s a long time." oh? are you not sleepy? his hand runs through your hair, touch gentle, affectionate. trying not to let the bandages catch knots in your locks. "yeah, it's a long time. get used to me being around every second."

"feels nice." you burrow deeper into his chest, trying to meld yourself into his personal weighted blanket. his hand continues to run through your hair, it feels so soft. he hums in satisfaction, "you like this, huh? i'll do it every night."

"such a good boy." and you're exhaling deeply, he feels the exhaustion leave your body, muscles growing heavy. his own eyes heavy.

good boy huh? maybe he likes you saying it, would he admit that? nah. "i'm not a dog you know."

"i dunno...you're good to me. the best. boy. good boy." you switch sides to lay your head on your forgotten bruised check, a hiss and wince and jo's hand grips your head firm, placing you back onto your uninjured size.

"watch it babe, keep calling me good boy and see what happens." his voice low and rumbly. that confuses you, shifting your head to look at his eyes as much has his hand allows. you're so sleepy, his hand is so big and warm and comforting.

"wha's that even mean?" you barely register his mischievous smile, he leans in, voice barely a whisper. "keep calling me good and i'll have to show you proof won't i?"

"silly." you poke at his lips, he nips at your fingers, "sleep."

you're on the verge of sleep, words becoming less sensical and more incoherent. did you ask him to howl? "yeah yeah, go to bed babe." he lets you shuffle on him, adjusting into a comfy position on your sides. hand in his hair but barely moving. he's pepping small kisses to your temple.

"i like you."

he feels his chest go warm, "i like you too babe." and your hand falls from his neck and you're out. pulled into slumber. he watches with such affection, "more than you ever know."

jo spends the night holding you, arms protective, a shield against outside troubles. he lets himself sleep, lets his dreams fill of you and your smiles and nagging. smiles into the way you hold him close, in his dreams and on his bed.

#togame jo fic #togame jo x reader #togame jo x you #togame fic #wind breaker fic #wind breaker x reader #established relationship #april writes #my first time posting him #im so nervous #ahhhhhh #the image is a screepcap of mine! please dont use w/o permission #togame jo telegraph

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