Viktor Vektor x Reader

Nine

Air rattled in your lungs with every breath. Blood poured all over your lips and chest while you sat in your corner, legs spread, arms dangling on the ropes of the ring.

Dex was in your ears like a tumour. Angry, he barked something about you being a fucking idiot, how ashamed he was, while the strands of smoke of his cigar wrapped around your head and made it even heavier than it already was.

It took all in you to keep your eyes open. Tired and weary, you blinked but your eyes kept on burning and watering as if someone had sprayed your face with pepper spray.

Every once in a while a low sound got caught in your throat to cope with the pain. And to stimulate your brain or it would be out as soon as you got up.

Suddenly the feeling of something cold stroked your skin. It was such a soothing feeling that you couldn't help but let your head fall back with a weary sigh.

"Shit, she got you real good.", T-Bug huffed and let the wet towel rest on your head.

Wrapped in darkness, you flipped her off and groaned.

"I'd tell you to fucking eat shit, Bug...", you groaned and wiped the blood off your lips. "But I think if I do I'll throw up all over my shoes...""

"Shit, everything went well!", Dexter yelled and flipped the rest of his cigarette into your direction. "You just had to go ruin it!"

Annoyed, you frowned but relaxed your face again immediately as you noticed how some of your breakfast crawled up your throat.

"Fuuuuck...", you wrapped the towel around your neck. "I want to see you get it on with her. Just so I can see how you get your ass beat. Fat fuck..."

"What?!"

"Nothin'...", your eyes wandered along the crowed.

Some people gawked at you like some animal in a zoo, beat but not broken yet. They knew it was only a matter of time now.

Your injuries were heavier than hers. But her body was about to become her biggest enemy. And yours was about to fold under its limits.

Shit, this entire fight was fucked face down. Only one of you could make it out of the ring alive. And you sure as shit did not plan on dying any time soon.

Not in a ring anyways.

All of a sudden your attention was caught by a movement in the back of the hall. At first your optics failed to pick it up, still not entirely rebooted.

But as you narrowed your eyes you believed to see a pair of toned glasses. Blood stains on a blue shirt and colourful tattoos.

Maybe it was just your mind that played tricks on you, or he tried to make an even bigger joke out of you than you had already done yourself. The the stranger in the blue shirt had his fists raised and did a gesture.

What was he doing?

Confused, you frowned. For a brief moment your optics sharpened.

He was shadow boxing. Or at least did a few moves that you picked up as boxing moves. With a confident look on his face he dug his head, turned and pulled an uppercut. But the way he did it wouldn't have hit the downside of the jaw.

It would have pushed the corner of the lower jaw away, possibly dislocating or even breaking it.

"Shit...", you huffed and had to lower your gaze to hide a chuckle. "Motherfucker wants me to play dirty..."

Your eyes wandered along the red spots that you had left on the floor. This fight wouldn't last long no more. The only question was if you'd leave this ring as the winner or not.

No, loosing wasn't an option. You knew that.

"Fine.", one last time you forced yourself to your feet.

The movement was so swift that it threw your head into a spiral. You almost fell backwards again, but straightened your spine and forced down the vomit that already mixed with the blood in your throat.

The bell rang to announce the fourth and last round. It was all or nothing now.

Your eyebrows drawn together, fists raised and your head pulled in you met your opponent eye to eye.

Despite her visible struggles she seemed to be just as willing to end it right then and there as you. Maybe she was in the same situation and had no choice.

But who cared?

You didn't. In the streets of Night City it was either ear or be eaten. And you sure as fuck wouldn't end up being somebodies lunch.

"Got enough already?", she asked and flashed her teeth, cooked and bloody from your punch.

You weren't even able to answer no more. All your focus went into keeping your head up.

Swallowing hard, you sucked in some snort and spit the blood mixed blob before her feet.

"Lez do dis.", you purred.

She came a step closer.

Immediately, your feet started to move. The man had shown you that footwork was important. He was constantly moving, trying to make himself a hard target.

You couldn't afford another blow so that seemed like a good option.

Her fists rose, slow and sloppy. You pulled in your head, dug away and placed a hit to the side of her throat.

She stumbled, breath heavy and body covered in sweat. Her cover opened up, not enough for you to land the necessary punch though.

You used it to get some good hits in, one against her shaky hand, another to her temple. Irritated, her arms slumped. Shoulders sank.

Now, finally, her cover was wide open, enough for you to slip close between her arms. You didn't know how but all of a sudden you found yourself right in front of her, your steps as quick and easy as ever.

All your attention was on her face, a very particular weak point of her jaw pinned to your attention.

Her eyes flinched, realising what you planned on doing. Muscles moved, hands rose again but the target still remained unprotected.

Just one hit, that was all you needed.

Your brain was still a little slow but muscle memory kicked in. Your hands clenched into fists, shot upward. With all the remaining strength you had in you, you threw a punch her way, just below her jawline.

Knuckles met bones.

A sharp pain chased through your entire body as you threw back your weight and pushed her up.

Blood splattered.

The entire ring trembled as she crashed to the ground.