Jacob Frye x reader [dirty cheater]

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((1/14/24: The fixing of reading and cleaning has begun ))

You were known for fighting yet not under your name As a child, you were always so helpless from being beaten to a pulp or your father in public claiming you were not his own, even your family kicked you outright of your own home by the age of 11 when (sibling name) was born, left to survive the streets. Survival was hard as a woman, yet fighting served to earn a pretty pound or two. Always bandaging my chest down, using old men's clothing to look and disguise.  I've had a very strong body from having to fend for myself, not to mention doing millwork. Plus it paid more to act as a man. It fits well beside the picture of your sibling around your neck in your mother's locket. 

((If your hair is already short plz just go along))

I looked at myself in clothes that weren't mine in the pub's dirty and broken bathroom mirror,  a rough and upset face looked back at me. I knew that from last time, my hair was an easy-grabbing point, even if it was in a ponytail, lord knows I can't braid. I held a blade in my hand while grabbing a fistful of hair. I hesitated for a moment, second thoughts getting to me yet, I would survive. The sound of hair cutting, the thick (h/c) locs falling into the sink and floor. I looked at my hair in the sink, then at my shotty haircut. It was done, and work awaits. I started running, warming up on the way from Lambeth.

I need to win tonight if I want to eat...

((JACOB POV))

I stepped off the train... Finally, a night to myself while Evie was on a goose chase with Greenie. Eventually, I walked to the industrial plant.
I climbed down to the street swiftly entering the housing of the fight ring and watched as this skillful man beat down another man bigger than him own self knocking out his rival in the politest way.. They stood up craning their neck.
I watched them hop out of the ring...They were tall, lean, and youthful,  yet looked like they packed a punch. 

((READER POV))
Some people flocked around me and I didn't mind the attention, all praise and compliments.
"So you are the tough shot tonight.." A man with his hair in a black bun asked, he had an accent I couldn't place. I nodded not wanting to talk as being here was nerve-racking enough. 

"I'll take you on all my money of nothing" He pulled out 500 pounds and I nodded without a second guessing it.

"Mute aye? best to you lad." The man shed his top while he hopped in the ring. I fastened the top of my button-down and left my hat on one of the posts. I shook my head fluffing my hair out, I'm praying this to be easy...

((JACOB POV))
I watched them hop back in the ring ready to fight, Yet I've seen this man around and not in a good way. I knew he was a blighter, seeing him again made my gut have an awful feeling. I walked over to the edge of the ring, glancing between the two. 

((READER POV))
I looked at the man who stood across standing in the sparring position, 'it's like lunging at a barrel, just tackle him and you get to eat...' I thought to myself as I lunged, throwing him onto his back. I swung onto my knees ready to pin and beat on him. As he swung I saw a silver glint while I leaned back, only for him to get a good hit on my face.  I pushed back onto the balls of my feet and gathered my bearings, my cheek stung. My fingertips touched the cut on my cheek, filthy cheater. I looked at my fingertips, the soft outline of blood on them. It felt like a collective inhale was heard across the room. It felt like me and a dance with the devil.

((JACOB POV))
I watched the bloody bastard slip out a blade from his hand tapes, I felt a compulsion to do something, it would only take one false move for the lad in the ring to become a victim rather than Victor.
I watched the poor kid dodging until his blade got a few more cuts in him. Blood pooled and stained onto his shirt. A long gash on his side, one up his forearm, one in his shoulder. The blade sliced into the lad's arm, yet he lost his grip leaving in the lad's upper shoulder. I saw my chance it was enough time for me to hop into the ring. I swung my body up over the side post and landed on the dusty floor.

((READER POV))
I let out a grunt as he stabbed the blade into my arm leaving it there. This was my chance, I kicked him away by his lower torso. I wasn't going to let this cheating bastard win, not against me. I slammed his head into my knee using my uninjured arm stomping as hard as I could on him. I felt my heel dig into his gut I heard him make a guttural noise as he grabbed onto my ankle, twisting me down to the floor. I felt dizzy and my breathing was becoming shallow. I was in rougher shape than I thought, I felt my face collide with the floor hard. The taste of metallic in my mouth as I sat up slowly using my good arm to prop me up. My skin felt hot, droplets of sweat running down my forehead as it throbbed, spitting blood out of my mouth. I felt the weight of someone on my back, straddling above my hips then the fists started beating on me, I used my hands to cover the back of my head. All of a sudden the weight was gone, I rolled onto my back and watched the work swirl around me. My vision faded to a blurry blac-

((JACOB POV))
I watched as the lad took a beating pinned from behind, I ran over and grabbed the blighter by the neck, slamming him into the ground. My grip tightened, pushing him down hard enough to be choked out. The man struggled and clawed at my arm, yet I held it, pushing my wrist back a little more, my hidden blade sprung out taking care of the rest, another blighter gone is a brighter day in London

I looked over my shoulder, Some rooks must've heard the commotion as a few of them walked into the ring from the gate, One propped up the lad's head with their hand, leaning to the side so the blood could dribble out of their mouth. They looked to be in rough shape, it was the middle of the night. 

Who in their right mind would be open right now, not even a pharmacy...

"They need stitches boss, they got cut up pretty good..." I snapped out of my thoughts as The rook looked over at me. "Don't you know how to do stitches Mr. Frye?"

"Yes, yet my gear to do so is on the train..." I crouched down and looked at the lad, he seemed harmless. 

((Next part should be all set, I changed so much yet its for the better <3))

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