oneshot | fight me pt.1
hA did I mention school is a bitch?
did I also mention that I'm going to be on spring break therefore exams can fucken stop jumping out of nowhere- *ahem*
allowing me to finally sit down and write something decent with a clear mind, I'll get my shit together don't worry y'all
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fight me pretty boy
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♔ ♔ ♔
♔ ♔ ♔
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"if you insist baby girl"
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Jab, jab, hook, cross, and repeat.
That was the only thing on your mind as you did your early morning work out session. Currently that was known as boxing and beating the living daylights out of a punching bag. Poor bag, you need to get a new one it's practically falling apart.
Stopping for a while you forced air into your lungs, panting as you breathed in and out in an unsteady rhythm. You knew you were sweating a river by now, taking that as a sign to start a different activity.
After 100 push ups, and 50 ab crunches, you plopped down on a chair and gulped down water. You tilted your head to look up, with the minimal energy you had left, realising it was currently 9:00am and that you took too long. Not making any move to rush up the stairs though, you just kept sitting down.
There aren't much quiet moments at your academy. It was a sports main based university, therefore you could always hear some yelling in the halls. So anytime a treasured moment like this came up, you never took it for granted.
'To hell if I'm late', you thought while wiping your face with a towel, 'that's their problem not mines.'
Anyways the teachers wouldn't waste their time arguing, they learned their lesson once. Let's just say once is definitely more than enough.
It's really astonishing, how much your life changed this past year.....all the new events were sometimes so overwhelming. Life was much easier when you were a kid, while living with your grandma on that small farm.
You laughed bitterly at the thought.
Ever since you grew out of that innocent childhood, it started to feel like life pressed the fast forward button, but never pressed play to continue at a pace like everyone else.
During the time after your grandmother died, from a stroke, you had to live on the farm all alone, you had no one else to go to.
You had seen orphanages before, and no way in hell were you going to live there.
You stole fruits from marketplaces after your food storage started to run out, learning a few pickpocketing tricks along the way. Sometimes people would feel sorry for you and let you have some extra food or a pack of pads. Of course while they were giving it to you, you would steal their watch or jewelry.
A girl's gotta do what she gotta do to survive sometimes.
You mostly participated in fighting matches to earn money though, they paid good enough. You were known as 'Scarlett,' stupid name huh?
Well what can you say, when you're surrounded by single brain celled idiots *aka dumb ass men*, you're bound to have an awful nickname.
Being more honest, you supposed that in the ring was when you learned about your love of fighting, it made you feel alive for once in a really long time.
The adrenaline pumping in your blood, your body getting all electric, the rush and the way the wind wipes past your face when you flip.....its heaven. And what was really surprising was that you were good.
Of course there is one who's almost as good as you, Jungkook.
Almost, not quite yet.
One night, after about 7 months of living on your own, was when you met jungkook. It was fighting that bonded you both together, it still does, and you're thinking it will forever will.
»»———— ♔ flash back ♔ ————««
You ran around the corner, leaping over debris. Making sure not to trip and fall over your insecurities along the way~
The warehouse was right in front of you, just behind a grove of trees. They had to change the location of the fighting arena, because last time you were there the cops found y'all.
Luckily you made two guys behind you start a fight to distract the cops, while you slipped through the window after they both started to argue. Not too bad for an intermediate.
Creeping through the trees, you silently ran to the visible door. Tucked away towards the side of the building, keeping pace with the shadows. Stretching your body away from the street lamps glare, you used your flexibility to your advantage. Finally stoping in front of the door you reached out your hand as knocked in the familiar pattern.
Noting also that the wood was getting old, meaning that the inside building was probably crappy as well. The vibrations seemed to eco even louder in the quiet alleyway.
The door creaked open and a bodyguard stared at you, his huge muscles reflecting against the weak light as he shuffled in place.
"Name," he demanded, his face empty of any emotion. His eyes seemed to focus on your face but never looking at you directly, jaw clenched.
"Scarlet," you replied, trying to hold onto his gaze to show you were not intimidated. Even if you had to admit, you were slightly freaked out.
He then reached out and patted you down to make sure you didn't have any weapons, thankfully staying in his boundaries and not being a pervert.
When you were all clear he moved to the side, allowing entrance. Stepping into the threshold he locked the door firmly behind you, still waiting for the others you supposed.
It wasn't fancy or anything like that, just a two room area. One for changing, keeping your clothes, and supplies. The other for the actual fighting. The fighting area had seen better days, with its worn out floor and peeling brown wallpaper. A space in the middle was open, a raised section with rope surrounding it. The windows were covered with old tee shirts, and two lamps hung on opposite sides of the room.
A door was in the corner on the left side of the room, where the changing and storage area was. Guys and girls were littered around, mostly keeping to themselves or practicing with others. You walked toward the changing rooms, heading for a stall. It was pretty small just a toilet, a hanger, and a small sink with cold water. Locking it behind you, your movements quick as always.
You fumbled with the backpack straps, setting it on the hook. The relief was quick to set in on your bare shoulders, stretching your arms as you heard the crack of muscles shifting. You then proceeded to wash the muck off your face, removing your dirt encrusted shirt and pants; scooping water with a cup and bathing the unclothed parts of your body. Like your arms, legs, and stomach. You didn't want to take the chance of undressing with the type of people a few meters away.
You've never lived like this before. However there's no use thinking about the past, when you can't do anything to change it.
Reaching down under sink you looked for a towel and the rental training clothes bounded together with rope. After finding them you dried yourself off as best as you could, until the towel was smeared with back and brown.
Untying the rope, you held the fabric in your hands. It was stretchy pants and a sports bra that was also black. Not much too it, as long at it did the job then it was good. You needed the money today, you were running out of food and someone stole your blankets. It gets cold during this time of year, and you were as sure as hell not ready to die from frostbite yet.
Quickly changing you remembered to add the protection breast plates under your bra, you didn't trust them to fight fair. If they can cover their dicks with a protection cup then you should have the fucken rights to cover whatever the hell you want on your body.
Stuffing your dirty clothes into a backpack, you stepped out of the stall, walking to a locker. Once you put your backpack inside an empty vault and firmly locked it, was when you were then ready to head to the arena. No one was inside the storage room, it looked like they already started. Not that it bothered you, they wouldn't actually start fighting without you. You had a reputation around here of course.
Walking towards the door, you kept your aching back straight and eyes forward. Kicking it open with your foot, immediately letting your gaze wander to the booth right by the front.
All eyes turned towards you, with uneasiness in their evident expressions, most of them looked to the floor automatically.
Yes you can say you're known well around here, very well actually. But who wouldn't know you as the girl who can break a man's neck with her bare hands?
You can't blame them though, you fear yourself too at times; especially when you're angry. It's like giving whoever's on the opposite end a death sentence, and they all know it.
You charged up to the booth, and scanned the list. The way it works is very simple. Basically rich men and women place bets on fighters, and earn or lose money depending if the person you pick won. It's like a type of gambling, except fighters get money too.
There are always two fighters at a time, with an amount of time to sign up with which of the two fighters you think will win. You have to put aside money for them though. When the games are over you have a winner. The one who puts aside the most for the winner gets all the money the other people put aside. While us fighters get the original amount of money the person who bet on us put aside. Or if you didn't win you get no money at all.
You can see how sometimes this can get a little bloody.
You were next up and found out someone was betting $550 on you for the highest right now. When you looked at your competitors name however, you didn't recognize it, who the hell was Jungkook?
Must be a newbie, well he's gonna get it bad.
Someone's bet $400 as the highest on him though, you found out on closer examination, he must have done it before somewhere else then.
Since no one ever gets that high on the first time, you have to prove your worth and abilities through countless matches to even get higher than $350.
You pulled your foot up onto the ropes, flipping yourself over onto the arena. To shake out your body you started started stretching, not wanting your muscles to be stiff. The room was deadly quiet, and you were getting bored waiting for the new guy to start this fight. You wanted to take the winning money and quickly rent a place to sleep for the night.
Finally just when you were about to complain to the referee for someone to go find him, his 'Majesty' decided to grace everyone with his presence.
A guy came bursting through the doors, and jumped up into the arena not even in his official training clothes. He was breathing heavily, his hands on his knees.
Unfortunately he was breathing all wrong, you're not supposed to intake as much as you can; it can hurt your lungs and make you light headed.
Not like you would correct him though, his weakness would help you out. So you quickly made mental notes of how he shifted his weight with his feet and what upper body side he was more dominant in as he leaned down.
As you studied him while he was regaining his composure however, you noticed he had ink black dirty hair parted to the side. His light brown eyes looked deflated, his lips chapped with his expressionless face.
In conclusion another street rat like you, he looked like a year or two older than you however, quite interesting.
When he was finally done 'suffocating' he ran a hand through his hair, cracking his neck and knuckles as he steadied himself across from you. The both of you leaning against the ropes on opposite ends, ready to launch at each other.
"On your mark, get ready. GO!!", the referee shouted over the screaming and hollers that start right as the horn blasted.
You could already feel the adrenaline rushing through your veins as you launched yourself at him.
Bewilderingly at utterly confused however, you had to skid to an immediate stop, reaching for the rope barrier to halt your skidding feet.
Why did you do that?
Because the boy was just walking over to you, smiling with his hands in his pockets instead of throwing himself at you like a normal battle.
"Hey beautiful I don't think we've met before, my name is Jungkook," he said in an attempt of kindness, putting his hand out as if you were supposed to shake it.
What the fuck?
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