tw/cw for blood, injuries, violence and boxing... obviously.
ΰ½ΰ½²βΆΰ½ΰΎ β dear lord indeed..... ken just know that if you ever feel safe. i will be out there. somewhere. ready to jump you... AND THEN SHOWER YOU IN PRAISE FOR THIS AMAZING IDEA!!!??
ΰ½ΰ½²βΆΰ½ΰΎ β no but srs despite not really being into sports myself cough. i love the idea of seeing Max all sweaty and.... π€€π€€π€€ breathing heavily π€€π€€ ou shii... π
ΰ½ΰ½²βΆΰ½ΰΎ β i can tell this guy loves fighting in all forms (boxing matches against familiar faces - rough housing with his friends or even you!!)
ΰ½ΰ½²βΆΰ½ΰΎ β i mean imagine him begging you β on his knees just because doing puppy eyes wasnt enough β that you would come watch his match π₯Ί
ΰ½ΰ½²βΆΰ½ΰΎ β definitely the type of fighter to find you in the crowd during the tournament and wink while his opponent is still heaving on the ground, blood slightly dripping from his nose.
Max just threw a finishing blow to the other person in the ring with him, his gloved hand reaching upwards to wipe the blood with the back of his wrist. A satisfied grin on his face that he could finally blow off steam from this week, and that you were there to watch him in his full glory.
His eyes immediately flicker around the crowd, trying to find your recognizable, gorgeous face β most likely scared out of your skin that he mightve gotten hurt. But he never does. (ignoring the smudge of blood on his upper lip)
When your boyfriend finally catches your eyes, his smirk widens into something more yielding, something more softer and tender. The brunette winks towards you flirtily before the referee climbs into the ring and raises his left wrist into the air in a sign of triumph. Maxs eyes stay on you the entire time he basks in the crowds cheers
ΰ½ΰ½²βΆΰ½ΰΎ β and after every fight youre sure to accompany him in the empty locker room, dabbing at his wounds because god forbid your pretty boy is injured, even if a tiny bit!!!!
Max swore left and right, up and down that he was fine. That it was just a little blood and you shouldnt worry about him that much and instead be happy for him, that he won the competition.
Still, you couldnt help yourself in being even a little... worried.
"You ought to be more careful" You cooed, wiping the already-dried blood from under his nose, tilting his head up so you could clean it better
"I blocked every attack from him" He argued softly
"Not this one" He whinced at your snide tone and how you pressed a little harder with the damp cloth.
Suddenly, his hand shot up, grabbing your wrist gently to stop you for a second, bringing it down to his chest so you could feel his steady heartbeat (now kicking up a notch at how your hand felt against his bare skin).
"Im fine, see?" Max tilted his head with a hum, a comforting grin on his face that told you that 'hey, im still here, still breathing'
That alone, with his handsome face and suave words, was enough to calm you down.
ΰ½ΰ½²βΆΰ½ΰΎ β he definitely practices his skills at home by rough housing with you (elite reference to that one fic i made. heh.) although gently because he would genuinely get a heart attack if he hurt you. even if accidentally.
ΰ½ΰ½²βΆΰ½ΰΎ β if you didnt mind his beating-up hobby that much, or were into sports yourself, he would definitely drag you along to his workout sessions. If you ever got tired from your own set, he would let you watch him strike his punching bag.
ΰ½ΰ½²βΆΰ½ΰΎ β he always makes sure that his muscles flex and tense too when he knows your watching him.
ΰ½ΰ½²βΆΰ½ΰΎ β just some little eye candy for you if you had a rough day :)
