What Tangled Webs We Weave

[BlackAkuma]

Armando took one step into the gym, breathed deep, and let out a good, long sigh as the scents wafted into his nose. The air was thick with that familiar, pungent odor, the smell of sweat hanging in the air, the lingering haze from thousands of workouts. LAW had a good janitorial staff; they did their best to erase, but there was no hiding it, at the end of the day, and he wouldn’t want them to. Army had grown up in gyms like this his entire life, spent more time training than doing just about anything else short of sleeping. That scent alone was enough to get him into the right mindset.

This was familiar. This was home.

He slung his gym bag over his shoulder and proceeded to take a short tour of LAW training facility, making a mental inventory of what they had to offer. All the best basic stuff, from what he could see - treadmills of various designs, bench presses, dozens of machines and free weights alike. Some kind of indoor rock climbing setup in the back, might play with that later, and while he wasn’t interested in using something he had more than enough of back home, he was happy to see they had a good set of heavy and speed bags.

In short, it was everything he needed for a good, well-rounded workout, and that was all he had in mind for today. Life in LAW had been good so far - a speed bump, every now and then, but nothing he wasn’t expecting coming in. While he was still finding his footing and making some new friends, nothing serious had troubled him so far…which, in itself, kind of troubled him.

Call it pessimism, but he knew a wall would come his way, sooner or later. Always did. He just had to be ready when it happened, so he needed to make sure he was at his best. That was the theme for today: staying sharp.

With his

on tight, Army dropped the gym bag at the nearest open ring he could find and slid inside to start his stretches. He looked around as he did, taking quick stock of the others around - he’d come in fairly early, looked like the place wasn’t too crowded, just a couple of others milling around. Safe bet he would have the ring all too himself without much fuss, so he could run a few drills and iron out some techniques on the canvas.

[Weonna]

Soft footsteps padded across the mat, light as a breeze. Armando looked up mid-stretch—just in time to see her.

Veronika Váradi.

Gym outfit

She moved like silk and shadow. Tight teal sports bra, navy leggings hugging every curve of her powerful frame, and that unmistakable spider tattoo on her thigh. Her physique screamed seasoned athlete… but her expression? Sweet, coy, almost bashful. Almost.

She stopped by the ring ropes, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her gloved fingers trailing along the canvas edge. Her lips curved in a smile, soft with a playful innocence—but her eyes shimmered with mischief.

“Szia, szépfiú,”

she purred gently, her Hungarian accent thick like honey.

“I hope I am not disturbing you…”


She tilted her head, feigning shyness as she glanced down, then back up at him.

“I… I’m new here. First week. Everything is still very… how you say—overwhelming.”

Her fingers played with the rope, as if uncertain whether to climb in or not.

“You look like you know what you are doing,”

she said, smiling sweetly.

“Maybe you can… help me? Just a little training, nothing serious. I promise I learn fast.”


She gave a soft giggle and brought her hands behind her back, pushing her chest forward ever so slightly.

“I want to be strong. Like you,”

she added with a breathy undertone,

“but I do not even know where to begin…”

She leaned closer, her eyes locking on his.

“So, handsome, will you show me some basics? I’d feel… much safer with someone like you.”

She gave a small wink—innocent, on the surface. But beneath it all? She was playing a game.

[BlackAkuma]

Army jumped - a slight, subtle bump - when that thick accent came his way. He’d been slipping into his own little world, as he often did when he prepared to train, but even so, he was surprised that this woman had managed to get that close without him noticing her footfalls or catching her with a side-eye. Not alarming, but odd. A little.

He brushed the thought aside as he turned her way, finding himself looking at a fellow wrestler, something he would’ve likely guessed even if they were in a wrestling gym. She definitely had the form for it - athletic, tall, well-built, strong. Somewhere between cute and hot, too, so she had his attention. And she seemed to really want to show off that spider tattoo, too - she’d either cut her pants leg off to do it or she’d bought a custom order somewhere. Who even sold one-legged pants?

A little weird, but the typical ‘wrestler weird’ that he was more than used to. And, fair play, she did look damned fine in them.

He smirked at the ‘handsome’ comment - good to know they were on the same page - and moved over to the side of the ring, offering his hand to help her get inside—the gentlemanly thing to do. ”Yeah, sure, we can train a little. Not much of a teacher, but I’ll give it a shot.”

One she was in, he backed off and gave her some space to get her stretches in while he finished up his own. ”Name’s Armando, but everyone calls me ‘Army’, just go with that.” He tilted his head, getting a better look at her tattoo, before returning to her face. ”Nice ink, by the way. Where’d you get it, Ms…?”

[Weonna]

Veronika took his hand with a soft, delicate grip that didn’t quite match the muscle tone in her forearm. Her skin was smooth, her palm slightly cool to the touch, and as she climbed through the ropes, she gave a small, almost bashful laugh.

“Veronika,”

she said, her accent curling around each syllable like velvet.

“Veronika Váradi. But if ‘Army’ is easier for you… then maybe you call me ‘Vee’, hmm?”

She winked, keeping that sweet little grin.

She stepped to the center of the ring, rolled her shoulders back, and began her stretches—slowly, deliberately. First, arms overhead, fingers laced as she leaned side to side, her obliques tightening with each motion. Then she bent forward at the waist, touching her toes with straight legs, her rear subtly shifting in Army’s direction as she did. Nothing overt. Nothing obvious.

But entirely intentional.

As she rose back up, she gave a soft sigh and shook out her limbs.

“Ahh, always tight before I loosen up,”

she murmured, casting a glance over her shoulder toward him.

“I am usually not nervous, but… training with a strong man like you?”

Her smile widened.

“Little butterflies, you know?”

She turned around, hands on hips now, the spider tattoo clearly displayed on her upper thigh.

“This?”

she asked, glancing down.

“It was… impulse. After a fight in Prague. I felt… wild. Free. Like the spider. Dangerous, but beautiful.”

She gave a small shrug, then stepped a bit closer.

“You like?”

she asked, cocking a hip just slightly toward him.

“You can touch… if you promise to be very gentle.”

Her voice dipped low and teasing, though her wide eyes stayed innocent—just toeing that line.

Then she grinned again and gestured between them.

“So, Coach Army, what do we start with? Grapples? Holds? Or… maybe something with more contact?”

[BlackAkuma]

‘Veronika Váradi.’

It was a good thing she preferred Vee, because Army wasn’t looking forward to butchering her name. Never had a good tongue for foreign sounds, and he hated whenever he stumbled over a pronunciation. Not that she would’ve minded all that much if he did, he would bet - she was coming across pretty chill. More than chill, even.

Dense as Army could be, by his own admission, even he couldn't miss the obvious signs she was putting down, as she went in her stretching routine - slow, deliberate, just a little sensual, but not too overt. He tried to be subtle about his staring, but it took some real effort. There was some poetry in the way she moved, like she was totally aware of her body at all times, had a full mastery of form.

And flexible. So very, very flexible.

He was definitely getting the impression she wasn’t quite as innocent as she was playing, which was fine. Army liked games, too, and it wasn’t the first time he’d gotten close with female company in the gym. Hell, the subtlety was a nice change from the other times.

He worked on stretching his arms up as she showed off her tattoo, and he bent forward to get a better look, admiring the handiwork. ”I like.” He nodded. ”Been thinking of getting one myself on my shoulder. Shenron from-”

He stopped himself mid-sentence, thinking he might come off a little too nerdy for telling her about a Dragon Ball Z tattoo. ”Like a dragon. A big dragon.” Way less nerdy. Good save.

He rubbed the back of his head with a chuckle as she offered a touch, then started bouncing on his toes to keep his body warmed up. ”Might just do that. Later.” He threw her a quick wink and started to move around the ring, circling and showing off some footwork.

”I don’t mind a little contact.” He kept his arms loose for the move, swaying about as her worked a circle around her. ”Really depends on you, though. What ‘s your style? Said you fought in Prague, so you got something to work with, right?”

[Weonna]

Veronika's lips curled into a slow, amused smile as she watched Army circle her like a curious predator sizing up another. She matched his movement subtly, not mirroring him exactly—but always keeping just enough distance to play along. Her hands moved lazily up her sides, brushing her waist as if considering his question.

“Technician, mostly,”

she said casually, her voice light but laced with suggestion.

“Little grappling, some submission holds… nothing special. My papa—apám—he was Greco-Roman wrestler, back home in Budapest. Very serious man. I watched him all the time, but I never train properly, you know?”

She gave a playful shrug, letting the lie dance between them.

“Maybe I pick up a thing or two by accident. Who knows?”

Then—without warning—she struck.

Veronika surged in close, her movement fluid and precise. She slid her arm around Armando’s head, snugly locking in a side headlock, then took a quick step forward, shifting her weight as she dropped to one hip and pulled him down with her. The canvas gave a soft thud beneath them as she hit the mat, dragging him with expert momentum into a grounded position.

Smooth. Natural. Way too clean for a rookie.

And she wasn’t done.

With one elegant motion, Veronika shifted her position and slid her leg over his trapped arm, anchoring it beneath her thigh. Her other leg stretched comfortably, keeping balance as she tightened the headlock around his neck. Army's head was tucked firmly just under the side of her chest, held close by the crook of her arm.

Spoiler

She grinned—eyes playful, voice airy.

“Maybe it runs in the family,”

she whispered sweetly, as if she hadn’t just executed a move that required years of drilling.

A gentle squeeze followed. Not crushing—but enough to remind him who had control. Her toned body pressed warmly against him as she settled into the hold, her legs stretched out with that effortless confidence.

“Oops,”

she cooed.

“That was… not beginner move, was it?”

She gave a fake little gasp, then giggled like she’d been caught doing something naughty.

“Maybe you show me how to get out, Coach Army. Or… you stay here a little longer?”

Another teasing squeeze.

“I don’t mind either way.”

[BlackAkuma]

Oh, a ‘technician’, fancy. A reflexive smile came over Army at that word. The boxer in him translated that to ‘submission bullshit’, but the wrestler in him knew better. He’d had more than his fair share of problems with these technical types in his time, and while he was much better at it than he used to be, that wasn’t saying too much. They were still his biggest blindspot, so this was a good thing, then. A chance for them to both to fill in some gaps.

He gave a sympathetic nod at the mention of Vee’s Dad being a ‘serious man’ - sounded a lot like his own father, he knew the feeling. ”Yeah, my old man-”

His nostalgic trip was cut short as Vee came rushing in fast, closing the gap before he could even think of backtracking. Her arm was around his head in an instant, clenching tight, and he found himself flying through the air, all 200 plus pounds of him flipped with each by a woman who was a middleweight, at best.

Surprising.

She then slid his arm between her legs and captured it, tightly locking it between two taut thighs. A strong as his arm was, it couldn't compete with two legs working against it. It was stuck. Smart move.

Even more surprising.

Army gasped, shocked at first, then broke into a chuckle as he looked up and saw Vee’s playfully innocent eyes gazing down at him. Yeah, she thought she was cute. And she wasn’t wrong, either. ”I mean, I wouldn’t hate staying here a little longer, no. The view’s not half bad.” He wriggled a bit in her old, making sure he couldn't just power his way out. Not happening, she had it solid. Great weight distribution. Apám would be proud.

”Good start, would be great if this was just amateur wrestling. But with pro wrestling, we’ve got a lot of options, you know? I got a free hand, so I could just…” He brought his arm up and swung it a bit, showing that he could’ve punched her square in the face if he wanted to. ”That’s the basic option. But if you want to get a little fancy…”

Army was no technical master, but he had been in wrestling long enough to pick up some basics, and he’d been damned if he couldn't deal with a headlock, of all things. He brought his free hand to her chest and pushed it back, forcing her away, just enough that he could whip his legs up, wrap them around her skull, and try to bring her to the mat with for a side headscissor, getting himself free and switching the situation up in one motion.

[Weonna]

Veronika felt the shift in Army’s weight as he began to move beneath her, his body adjusting, coiling, preparing something. Her grin never faltered. If anything, it widened.

She felt his hand press against her chest—not in a disrespectful way, but with force and purpose—and allowed it, even gave him some space, feigning struggle as his powerful legs whipped upward. His thighs locked around her head and tugged her down, flipping the position and catching her in a side headscissor.

“Oho~!”

she gasped, half-surprised, half-impressed, legs kicking briefly as her hands came to his knee.

“Very nice. Fast boy…”

But that moment of praise came with a smirk—and a twist.

Before he could even enjoy the reversal, Veronika bridged backward, placing her hands on the mat and kicking up into a nimble twist. Her body rolled effortlessly through the hold, slipping her head free in a way only someone very practiced could. A blur of motion—and she was already turning back toward him, grabbing hold of his ankles to keep him grounded.

“But not fast enough.”

Her legs shot forward like vipers, coiling around Army’s neck this time—tight, smooth, and high. She twisted her hips and slid her upper body back, locking him into a classic headscissor, her thighs snugly gripping just below his ears. The pressure was immediate.

And the view? Even better than before.

She leaned back on her elbows now, lounging casually as her abs flexed slightly with each subtle pulse of her thighs. Her toes slowly pointed, stretching her legs out in that long, elegant line.

“Much better,”

she cooed.

“Now the view is mine, Coach.”

Her voice dropped to a teasing hush.

“What was it you said before? Oh yes… with pro wrestling, we have options…”

Squeeze.

“…but so do I.”

[BlackAkuma]

Army didn’t use this chain wrestling stuff much, but just because he didn’t much care for it didn’t mean he couldn't do it. Granted, that knowledge came less from being trained and more from getting whipped in these moves more times than he could count, but hey - experience was experience. It served him well from time to time, even if he would rather be standing and banging instead of sitting and slithering.

It paid off here, as he needed to catch Veronika off guard and turned the tables, capturing her with the scissorhold. More of woman thing, but he could pull off a decent one, too. Most of the power from his punches came from his legs, honed by countless hours of running, and he could generate some real power with them. ”Having a little trouble-”

Veronika was on the move again before he could finish his taunt, moving with practiced grace and fluidity, the kind that only came from a wealth of experience - more proof he was being played with. Not that he minded all that much when it resulted in a sight like this, as she effortlessly rolled through and popped her head free with a ballerina’s flourish.

Swift. Beautiful. Deadly.

He barely had time to process her movements before she was on him, surging forward and shooting those legs out, twin pythons snapping tight around his neck. He cried out, both from the shock and the pain, then fell back as she began her grind.

Strong legs. Thick legs. Squeezing, crushing, pressing into his throat. He winced at first, then smirked as he looked over her body, her muscles on full, fine display. Could’ve enjoyed the sight for hours, if not for the pain. ”Yeah, options.” He managed a grimacing smile as he pulled at her thighs in reflex. ”Options, like…”

Army worked his way around beneath her, lifting her up as he pulled his lower body away. He kept her aloft in the hold just long enough for him to fall forward, get up to his knees, and put her shoulders on the mat - it wouldn’t free him from her crushing thighs, but if this were a match, it would put her in a position for a pinfall. Most times, that was the best way to get out of a headscissors, from what he’d learned.

”...this.” He winked and pressed forward, attempting to stack her. ”1…”

[Weonna]

Veronika’s grin widened as she watched Army struggle beneath her thighs, that grimacing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. She could feel the strength in his body, the coiled power trying to find its next move. He was strong—very strong—but predictable. She knew the counters as well as the holds. She could feel his core shift. Could feel his plan forming before he even moved.

Still, she let him do it. Why not? Let the man think he had a moment.

He started to rise. Her thighs stayed tight—until he forced himself to his knees and stacked her back, her shoulders brushing the mat.

“Ah?”

she hummed, feigning concern with a dramatic gasp.

“One…?”

Just as his hand lifted for the second count—she let go.

Her legs uncoiled in a snap, and before Army could even react to the sudden freedom, she shifted under him like a shadow. One hand caught the back of his knee, the other clutched his ankle, and she spun beneath him, twisting her hips out as she hooked the limb.

WHUMP!

Army would be yanked off-balance and dropped hard to the mat, landing flat on his chest.

And then—torque.

Veronika stood tall, one foot planted firmly beside his hip, the other pressing into the small of his back as she wrenched his ankle in a clean, ankle lock!

She leaned into it, one gloved hand shifting slightly to grind pressure down through her forearm.

“Oops…”

she said sweetly, looking down at him from above with mock surprise.

“You try to pin me, and now you are stuck again. Is this... lesson number two?”

She gave another twist, just enough to elicit a grunt.

Her tone stayed light, flirty.

But her hold?

Serious.

“Tap, tap, Coach Army,”

she cooed.

“Or maybe you want to see how far I can turn…”