the curl of a fist, the curl of her lip - it's all home to me
Pairing: Maraciela
Character(s): Mason "Mace" Browne/Graciela Rivera/Marie Schmidt
Rating: M
Warnings/Tags: Post-Canon, homoerotic fighting, Sparring, Established Relationship, this is mainly Marie x Mace but Graciela is v much involved too
Mace grinned up at her, and Marie couldn’t help but watch the split in her lips widen, courtesy of the elbow strike Marie had dealt her earlier. It would be so easy to finish this in the way that a lot of these sessions did, with them sprawled on the mats, fingers buried between each other’s legs, and (in Marie’s case) making Mace scream.
But not tonight.
At least not yet.
Graciela would kill them if they were late for dinner with Khadija and Lin Jiang – and again if she found out they had started without her.
Read it below, or on AO3.
A/N: Written for an exchange; I love these 3; I could not pick which ship I liked more out of Marie x Mace and Graciela x Marie, and I had wanted to write them as a throuple, but I just didn’t have the right fic idea for them. Until now. Thanks to @badassbutterfly1987 for the inspiration – hope you (and the other 2 people in this fandom) enjoy this XD !
Harsh breathing filled the air as Marie circled Mace once more. They’d been going for a few rounds already; their skin was slick with sweat, dripping along their eyebrows and making their tank tops stick to their backs. Marie’s fore arms were sore from having to block Mace’s attacks, and her left side was smarting after Mace had gotten in a particularly solid knee strike.
Given the shuddering breaths Mace was taking, and the way she was slightly favouring her right foot, though, Marie knew she wasn’t the only one that was starting to wear out.
These matches were ones they still held even after getting out of the business; first Mace, and then Marie right after. It was something that she and Mace had a silent agreement on – for a few times a week, they'd head down to the basement of the house they shared with Graciela, and spar. They’d both spent their lives being honed like knives - and just because they weren’t getting used anymore didn’t mean they didn’t need to stay sharp.
Graciela had protested against them at first; something about how their ‘persistent engagement with combat and combat-related activities would prevent them from truly leaving the field.’ But after a period of abstinence, which had both of them getting on Graciela’s last nerve since they had little else to do in their spare time due to their ‘retirement’ – if you could call writing novels (in Mace’s case) and working at the local cafe (in Marie’s case) ‘retirement,’ which Marie did – Graciela had relented on her ‘no sparring’ stance.
It was something Marie had once seen as just a tool she needed to do her job, but she had come to appreciate the physicality of it, of blocking everything else from her mind and just working her body. And she knew it was the same for Mace too.
She watched the slight movements Mace made, noting any shifts in her weight, or changes in hand positions.
And there it was – the way Mace would pull back her left fist to make you think she would punch with it, only to deliver a lethal right hook when you weren’t watching it.
Marie waited until she was sure Mace was fully committed to the strike, then stepped off centre. As Mace’s fist flew past, Marie’s right hand shot out and clamped around Mace’s wrist. She followed Mace’s direction of motion, before kicking out at Mace’s right leg.
Mace cried out as she dropped to the ground, and Marie quickly slipped behind her to pin her down, trapping Mace’s right arm behind her and kneeling on Mace’s other arm, just above the elbow.
Marie held firm even while Mace struggled briefly beneath her, and she curled her wrist just slightly so that Mace’s right wrist, elbow and shoulder twisted. Mace stilled immediately.
“Ready to tap out, mein liebling?”
A muffled scoff was what Marie got in response before the muscles in Mace’s left arm flexed. Her fingers fluttered up and down against the mats, and Mace relaxed her hold, allowing Mace to draw her right arm down from her back.
“You’re getting rusty.”
Marie rose from Mace’s back quickly, just in case Mace launched a counter attack, then crossed the room to reach for her bottle of water.
“You got lucky.”
Marie huffed in amusement, before raising the bottle to her lips. Mace grinned up at her, and Marie couldn’t help but watch the split in her lips widen, courtesy of the elbow strike Marie had dealt her earlier. It would be so easy to finish this in the way that a lot of these sessions did, with them sprawled on the mats, fingers buried between each other’s legs, and (in Marie’s case) making Mace scream.
But not tonight.
At least not yet.
Graciela would kill them if they were late for dinner with Khadija and Lin Jiang – and again if she found out they had started without her.
“One more.”
Marie set the bottle aside, and moved back into the centre of the room.
“What for? Me to wipe the floor with you again?”
Marie barely had time to dodge the punch; the skin of Mace’s knuckles just brushed the side of her jaw.
So that’s how it was going to be. Marie really needed to watch out now; once Mace had lost one too many rounds, she was no longer opposed to cheating.
Which meant Marie needed to go on the offensive before Mace could think up of a way to do just that.
Marie launched a barrage of kicks and strikes – right roundhouse kick, left front kick, left hand back fist strike. Dodged, blocked, then dodged again.
Seeing another opening, Marie came through with a right hook – and that’s when it happened. Mace blocked the punch, and caught Marie just under her shoulder blade. A second later, Marie felt her feet leave the ground. She scrambled to wrap her arms around Mace as she threw her down.
The impact knocked the breath out of her, but she had the good sense to have kept a hold of Mace, dimly noting the arm she had slung around the back of her neck. As the other woman tried to rise to her full height, Marie curled her arm towards her, forcing Mace down into a headlock against her chest and pressing her fore arm into Mace’s neck.
It was then Marie realised what a precarious position she was in. She groaned as Mace opened her mouth against her chest, barely catching her nipple on the hard edge of her teeth. It was a dirty move, but Marie couldn’t help but loosen her grip in surprise.
Mace took the opportunity presented to her, and slipped out of the headlock, pushing her knee into the back of Marie’s to make it buckle, and took her down again, putting her in her own head lock.
Marie scrabbled for purchase, trying to kick herself off. All she was managing to do instead though was grind against Mace’s chest.
“Are you going to tap out, mein liebling?” Mace cooed into her ear, licking along the shell of it before taking it between her teeth.
The strangled noise of frustration and desire Marie let out was almost embarrassing – it was an admission of defeat just as clear as two taps against the mats.
Really, Marie should be used to this; Mace had pulled similar moves in the past. But it didn’t stop the heat from swirling in her stomach, or the slickness that was more than just sweat from running between her legs.
There was some consolation in the fact that it was not just her that still got affected by these things, given the press of Mace’s hardened nipples into her back.
It was then that the basement door swung open, making them both freeze.
“Ay, dios mio. You two couldn’t wait until at least after dinner?”
A flood of both relief and annoyance rushed through Marie at the sound of Graciela’s voice – relief that she had shown up in time before Mace could finish what she’d started, and annoyance that Mace couldn't finish what she started.
Marie grunted as Mace released her. She rolled back to a standing position, meeting Graciela's gaze with her own. As much as it was exasperation Graciela exuded, it was tempered by the way her eyes lingered on both her and Mace. Marie straightened up slightly, pleased when she drew Graciela’s eyes once more.
She nodded her head at Mace, “This was her fault."
“Hey!”
“She played dirty.”
“You never complained before.”
Marie pursed her lips, but said nothing. As much as it pissed her off, Mace was right.
“I have been slaving away in the kitchen for the last three hours -”
“You didn’t want the help!”
“And I come down here to make sure you weren’t up to any funny stuff before the others get here, and what do I find?”
“Mace!” Marie hissed. As much as Graciela knew about what went on during their sparring matches, she still had yet to actually join them for one. Not for lack of wanting to, though, as Graciela had once professed to them after a few too many glasses of wine. It was just a lack of opportunity - until now. Too bad that Mace had decided to wave that in her face on the one night they all needed to contain themselves. And Graciela was not to be messed with when it came to having company over.
“No, that's not it,” Mace stepped closer to Graciela, wearing that damn smirk on her face that drew them both to her. Why couldn't she just stop talking?
“Gracie’s biggest fantasy is being between the two of us.”
Fucking Mace, and her inability to just shut up.
At this, Marie knew she had to step in to salvage the evening before it even began.
“Gracie, querida, we could always -”
“Neither of you will get to touch me tonight if you make us late for dinner.”
It was a threat that stopped both Marie and Mace in their tracks.
Graciela nodded in satisfaction and walked away. Marie watched the sway of her hips as she went; out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mace doing exactly the same thing.
“Get cleaned up. Then, maybe, we can talk about dessert.”
A/N:
German
mein liebling - my dear/darling
Spanish
Ay, dios mio - Oh my god
querida - my dear/darling
This was fun to write, if (maybe, possibly) a little OOC. Let me know what you think!
mason browne if you read this i’m free on thursday night and would like to get a drink. please respond to this and then get a drink with me on thursday night when i’m free.
