Love Hurts (Daeva Asphodel vs Selene Thorne [D])

[DSX93]

It was here that Emilia realized: She really should've asked for this match to be held in a private venue. The more Selene said, the more it felt that it wasn't Daeva Asphodel that she was talking to. She really has been watching her.

Her cold touch would indeed still her, so much so that she wouldn't be an obstacle to Selene as she left the corner. Yet it would heat her up inside to the point where her pale cheeks were turning red. By the time she realized that Selene was getting into position for a proper match, the referee had already called for the bell to sound its beginning.

She was starting this off with the advantage: She's just done one of the very things that made her famous. And that couldn't be allowed to stand.

Emilia had the feeling that Selene knew that she just had that thought too. And maybe even that she'd made it a specific objective to make up for that. Of just how deep underneath her skin she's gotten, poking at her as both a fan with a crush and as a competitor, the two sides having been set to do battle against the other. Or so Selene was hoping, she was sure.

When Daeva Asphodel met her in the center of the ring, it would be as calmly as she was meant to be when her creator had given birth to her concept. She didn't go on an immediate offensive, nor did she waste words to try to bait her into one of her own. But the challenge was there in her eyes as she settled into a stance.

[Eir]

Selene Thorne stood in the center of the ring. She knew that she had already taken control. Not of the match, but of Daeva’s thoughts.

The bell rang.

Selene’s gaze never left the girl. She stepped forward once. Then another step. And another. Until she was close enough to speak softly and be heard over everything else.

“You’re flushed” she said. “Good. The audience deserves to see your truth painted across your face.” She took her stance. “Let’s see what she made you for” Selene murmured, eyes narrowing. “Before I show you what you were always meant for.” And then she moved. A testing reach toward Daeva’s wrist, probing for a shift, a hesitation, the smallest slip she could twist into leverage.

[DSX93]

“Let’s see what she made you for, before I show you what you were always meant for.”

But she didn't actually have to see about anything. She already knew what Daeva Asphodel's purpose was. At this point, Emilia was certain of it. And those words were an expression of her intent. Selene meant to dig through the surface and bring her out. And something like that...

Emilia had intended to keep her real self distanced from her characters. Every last one was framed after some aspects of herself, but when she was away from the job, out of costume and out of their specific makeup and cosmetic routines, the fact that she was even a professional wrestler was not to be common knowledge. She'd have ties, yes. Ties to The Coterie. And to a few others. But Emilia Morasanu is not a competitor. She didn't want to be connected to her in-ring characters by the world at large; it's just a privacy thing.

She was scared. Very scared. Revealing that she and Daeva are the same person, for one thing, would be retroactively giving all those creeps that hounded after her and asked for an OnlyFans and other things from her teenage years onwards exactly what they wanted.

Something that she should have thought out better, actually. She could already see the comments on her YouTube channel. The first thing that would come out of their mouths when they come across her when she's out and about. Calling her out for how she'd shut them down so "harshly", only to later go on to have competitive sex with strangers in front of millions, and spewing some slop about how that justifies them being dogged creeps.

She...She wasn't ready for that.

Daeva watched Selene closely as she made her slow, measured approach. Like she was the predator and Daeva was the prey. Not tonight. She knew what Selene was doing. Probing. Trying to turn this around and provoke her into making a move. And she would:

It would be something non-committal, not requiring her to leave her stance, which was mid-way between bladed and squared, easy to switch into whichever served her best in the moment. She simply moved her arm from reach and swung low, starting like she was about to lunge into a shoot. Maybe deceive her into sprawling.

[Eir]

“Cute.”

Selene’s tone was deliberate and slow. She tilted her head just slightly, like she was trying to hear something Daeva had spoken through the noise of the crowd.

She smiled and moved with no hesitation. When Daeva fainted low, Selene stepped in. Close. Almost chest to chest.

She caught the fainted motion, blocked it.

“Oh baby…” Selene whispered. Her gaze didn’t waver. Didn’t blink. “Swing again if you want. Lie to yourself a little longer. But the truth will be set free” She wrapped her arms around her waist and lifted her up softly into a bearhug as she began to kiss her neck.

[DSX93]

She didn't buy it. Not for a single second. And it made her feelings towards how well Selene could read her into something complex. Now it was beginning to give her the feeling of, "Let me have some surprises, damn you!" It was like she was reading off of a script now.

Read her. Again. Scooped her up in her arms, and started squeezing. Compressing her ribcage in her vice grip, turning her breathing into what had to be a conscious effort, and...turning her on even further. The hug was more to keep her in place, it seemed, so she could touch her lips upon her skin again.

Those things are mind-melting...

No. Daeva wouldn't waste any time. She wrapped her limbs around the Witch. Legs around her waist, arms around her head, pulling her as deeply into her cleavage as she could bring her, sealing her mouth and nostrils with pale flesh.

[Eir]

Selene’s hands braced against Daeva’s hips, her fingers curling in just enough to remind her, this witch had claws. Her head was pinned, mouth sealed, breath stolen but her mind stayed razor-sharp, alive in the tension.

She twisted. hips bucking, arms writhing for leverage, trying to break the seal of skin on skin. She moved towards the corner and pushed the girl onto the turnbuckle.

A guttural sound came from her throat, not quite a growl, not quite a gasp. Her head tilted, angling for just enough air. Her voice came muffled.