Senna leaned against the worn wooden railing of their hideout, arms crossed, watching Sett with a smirk that curled at the corner of her lips. His muscles flexed under the dim lantern light, veins rippling beneath his skin as he powered through another set of curls. Sweat glistened along his broad shoulders, his usual cocky expression replaced by the sharp focus of a man chasing his next challenge. She loved that about him—his hunger, his drive. But tonight, she wanted to remind him that strength wasn’t just about brute force.
"Happy Valentine’s, big guy," she purred, stepping forward with a slow, deliberate sway in her hips. " I know you like lifting heavy, so I figured I’d be your workout today. " She moved before he could even ask, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, legs looping effortlessly around his waist, pressing against the heat of him. " Go on then, champ." A teasing smirk played on her lips as she adjusted her hold, her wraith-light body barely a weight at all against him. Her breath ghosted over his ear as she chuckled, low and sultry. " Though, with me being, y’know… mostly dead, I might be lighter than you like. " Her fingers traced along the nape of his neck, nails just barely grazing skin. "Guess that means you’ll just have to hold me tighter."
his athletic limbs burned with strain whilst he powered through another set, veins bulging with a constant effort to work harder: every rep was a test, a battle against himself, naught but proof that he was still the strongest, still the beast they all feared. he knew that strength was not just about lifting heavy or cracking skulls, however ⸻ but it was about control, about knowing when to push, when to hold steady, when to take. and her arrival was exactly the sort of challenge that was capable of testing all of that in one go. her vocals were velvet, poured over him as though they were the finest silk ( smooth and teasing ), with a purr that sent a familiar heat flowing down his spine. he did not turn to know she was up to something but was instantly conscious that she was ready to cause trouble. and that was evident when he could barely grunt a response and instead had his hands moving on instinct: his palms found the curve of her thighs whilst digits pressed into the firm muscle, feeling the ghost of her presence against his tanned complexion. and in an uttered response, a scoff rumbled from deep in his chest.
❝ you look very much alive to me, sugar. ❞ his grip tightened whilst he adjusted, hoisting her up higher at the same time he leaned against the railing, hearing the wood creaking beneath his weight. ❝ very much made of bones and flesh. ❞ his vocals were rough, feeling his structure responding to her warmth, to her scent, to her delicately-made curves. ❝ very much alive to have a deadly scent. ❞ with a growl, he moved, pushing off from the railing in a rapid motion, carrying her with him like she was nothing more than an extension of himself. the wooden bench nearby met the front of his knees, and he let himself fall onto it, dragging her down with him until she was trapped betwixt his structure and the hardened surface. one calloused hand roamed, rough palm gliding to her cheek to gently cup it and a thumb pressing against her bottom tier. ❝ very much... warm enough to make me wanna eat you. ❞ he lowered to have his tiers find the delicate curve of her neck, hot breath fanning over her complexion before he bit down, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to mark. enough to remind her, and himself, that she was there, that she was real. and that she belonged to him. ❝ but if you are not... ❞ a smirk curled at the corner of his tiers, feral, confident, hungry whilst they found her ear, sucking gently the lobe. ❝ guess you'll have to prove me wrong, right? ❞
