↳ 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗹: 𝘃𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀

𝙆𝙖𝙧𝙡 𝙃𝙚𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙜 - 𝘤𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘴

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[ male reader ]

Another hit to the side of your face and you fall to your hands and knees, panting heavily. The grazes on your cheek beginning to sting as you scrunch your face from the brisk air that burns your lungs.

Your opponent smirks and raises his arms either side of his body, circling you to rile up the villagers who have gathered to witness the gruelling fight. Some cheer him on, others chant your name.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and slowly push yourself up to your feet again. You wobble a little, spitting your blood on to the dirt. He sneers when you curl your hands into fists in front of your marked face, wheezing faintly with each inhale.

You duck under his arm and tiptoe behind him, letting him miss another hit to anger him. He growls and propels his fist which you narrowly dodge. As he pulls back to take another aim, you slam your fist into his jaw.

His eyes roll and his body topples over, landing in the mud like a sack of bricks. A smile spreads across your glistening face as you throw your hands into the air, knuckles painted red.

"Yes!" You punch the air, hugging one of your friends who pats you on the back. The adrenaline rush numbing the bruises beginning to blossom along your shirtless torso. You carelessly brush your damp hair from your forehead.

"Congrats." A cloth bag with coins in is placed into your waiting hand. You nod back, paying attention to the cut on your bottom lip when you smile a little wider.

Over the tops of people's heads, you notice a familiar man leant against a wall with a leg bent and a boot flat against it. Wisps of smoke swirling from the recently lit cigar that is perched between his lips. His head is held low and his face mostly covered by his hat, but you still make out the beard that stretches across his sharp jaw.

You grab your shirt, slipping between the crowd who are more focused on your opponent's state. He groans and stares up at the bright sky, almost passing out again from the wave of raised voices.

"Didn't think you'd show up."

"I almost didn't." Comes his smooth voice that you fall head over heels for every time.

"What made you change your mind?"

"I'm looking at it." You blush, giving the confident man a light smile. "More bruises. I'm beginning to think you enjoy people beating the shit out of you."

"I'll heal." You pull the shirt over your head, covering your torso. "I haven't lost a fight yet. We should be celebrating."

He hums, sending a warning glare to another guy strolling past when his gaze lingers on you a second too long. "Celebrating another day where you didn't get your head caved in."

"Why do you have to be so morbid all of the time? Every coin I earn goes to my family. I do this for them."

"I've told you a million times I can help—"

"And I'm grateful but the answer is still no. I want to earn my money. I like doing this. It keeps my head in the game. I also get to beat the shit out of people I don't like."

He brings his thumb to your bottom lip, ghosting over the cut. A second later he's rolling his eyes and pushing away from the side of the house. For a moment you watch him stride away, enjoying the sight, but you quickly jog to catch up to him because you know he won't stop otherwise.

"I know you like to stare." He frowns at your grin, neither denying or agreeing, but you both know the answer. "You like the view."

"So what if I do?"

"Just wanted to hear you admit it," you shrug.

"I've admitted it before."

"I know. It never gets old."

"Because you love attention."

"Is that a bad thing?" You lace your fingers with his, enjoying the weight of his calloused hand in yours. He takes another long drag, blowing the smoke through his nose.

"Not at all. Just don't go believing the world revolves around you."

"But it does because you're my world."

He looks across at you with raised brows. "Why d'you have to be so damn cute all of the time?"

"I learnt from the best." You squeeze his hand. He scoffs but accepts the compliment, knowing better than to spark a debate he won't even win.

"Come on pretty boy, I wanna celebrate my win." You give him a wide smile that he can never say no to, letting you pull him towards his factory.

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