Content Warning: NSFW – Explicit, consensual, competitive sex, violence, and nudity. All at the same time.

(It’s wet MMA in Beat, Prey Love. Come on now. Be fr.)

The phone alarm rang and the two women circled, styles evident in their stances: Monica Tides watched the sultry streamer martial artist bounce on her toes, light and nimble in her kickboxing stance while she herself fell back into her typically wrestling stance: a light crouch with open hands ready to drag whatever she could grasp down to the mat. Calamity Jade wore a skimpy jade-green tube top that clung precariously to her full chest, a scandalously short black pleated skirt, striped thigh-high socks modified into martial arts instep guards by cutting out the toes and heel on each sock, and green and black half-finger MMA gloves. It was—as she promised—exactly what “hot, sultry streamer martial artist” entailed. Her taller opponent had split the difference between surfer, and wrestler, sporting a one-piece 'lifeguard' style swimsuit that accentuated her impressive figure, and sky blue MMA gloves.

The 5'10 orange-haired streamer pawed at her taller, broader, more muscular opponent, while Monica tested her footing and spacing, still adapting to the transition from wrestling mats to MMA cage. Calamity Jade picked her targets over the first 45 seconds of their bout, sniping at her friend's head and chest and legs with stinging punches and kicks thrown from odd angles and with unconventional timing. Monica fired back but landed only occasionally, showing natural talent for timing a straight right cross but little of the knowledge necessary to land it consistently or turn it from a useful tool into a dangerous weapon.

The mellow surfer longed to bring the fight to the ground where her superior strength and tenacity experience could turn this loud mouthed streamer into a compliant kitten, but her friend recognized her strategy too and anticipated each time the promising grappler shot forward to grab her. Calamity Jade escaped back towards the center of the cage each time, controlling the distance and timing of their exchanges with superior footwork and timing and taunting her friend at each possible opportunity.

Content Warning: NSFW – Explicit, consensual, competitive sex, violence, and nudity. All at the same time.

(It’s wet MMA in Beat, Prey Love. Come on now. Be fr.)

“Hey, so just making sure: you've done this before, right, Snowbae?” Flor Ramirez asked, slamming her red MMA gloves together.

“Hell yeah; when soccer season is over, I scrap to keep in shape. It's also just fun as fuck.” Her opponent assured her. Hanna Bergstrom already held a demonstrable size advantage over her opponent. Flor needed to know what other disadvantages she was working with. She hadn't quite gotten used to knowing next to nothing about her opponent before their bout. She'd met Kathy at a local fight club weeks back, and Samantha a short time later, but Hanna was an unknown quantity: a tall, burly defender on their college's women's soccer team with icy blue eyes and a long braid of silver-blonde hair. Could she expect kicks from a soccer player? Or core strength and exceptional athleticism? The uncertainty pissed her off.

“I get it. Just, no complaints when you end up on my highlight reel. I'm not holding back just cause you're Samantha's friend.” Flor said. The college sophomore met her opponent's gaze and smiled. Her parents would be so disappointed in her right now. Good. If her dad wanted to control who, when, and how Flor fought, he shouldn't have asked her to put boxing on hold while she was away at college.

Content Warning: NSFW – Sex, violence, and nudity. All at the same time. (It’s wet boxing in Beat, Prey Love. Come on now. Be fr.)

“Y'know,” Vivian Jiang explained, fastening the strap on her green and blue boxing glove, “I'd been meaning to return to the sweet science anyways. I'm mostly a Mixed Martial Artist, especially now, but when Kathy said one of the freshies wanted a topless boxing match, I said, 'hell yeah!' so let's have some fun with it, kid!”

“Yeah! Let's do it!” The short, tan student grinned at her from across the ring. “I heard that some of the best fighters on campus fought at Beat, Prey, Love. I hope the rumors are true.” The wiry youth slammed her boxing gloves together, eager to begin. Her bright green gloves and shorts contrasted well with her light brown skin, and with the rest of her outfit. Her black boxing boots looked well used, even if her matching black leg warmers and arm warmers gave the 19-year-old pugilist's outfit a touch of youthful whimsy.

“Rumors? C'mon Maxine. Wet or dry, if you're looking for a fight, BPL is the best org near campus. But something gives me the idea you're not new to this...” Vivian explained, gesturing at Maxine Williams's topless torso.

“Oh? Why do you say that” The freshman asked, stretching out and twisting to and fro and putting her cute, lithe frame on full display.

“Most girls at least try and look scandalized standing topless in a boxing ring.” Vivian Jiang said with a laugh. “You are cute though.” he grad student grinned.

Written as a commission for a client who wanted fanfiction of 3 of his favorite characters

Cosmo Imai looked around his gym and sighed. It was true that their humble gym attracted a murderer's row of fighters and martial artists looking to improve themselves. But they'd spent so much time fighting, sweating, learning together that Cosmo knew their habits and styles nearly as well as his own.

He could scarcely imagine a situation where training and fighting weren't his favorite pastimes, but he could no longer deny to himself that he'd grown bored and this had grown stale.

He sipped from his water bottle and scanned the gym again, forcing a smile and a generic compliment to his latest training partner to hide his growing discontent. He made a note to reach out to some of the more eclectic fighter' s he'd met through his travels and see if any of them were still local.

The athletic 20 year old yearned for the sense of danger and uncertainty that had endeared him to fighting in the first place. His blonde ponytail bounced as he shook his head and subsumed the feeling beneath the simple joy of grappling. The dissatisfaction endured, but he couldn't defeat it by pouting and wishing anymore than he could become the world's best martial artist overnight. Results required effort.