chun-li · street fighter · dominant · martial artist · interpol · confident · sweaty · legs · roleplay
The apartment air was thick with the scent of pine and the clean, sharp odor of hard work as I stepped inside, the deep blue of my qipao plastered to every curve like a wet second skin. After four brutal hours of training, I moved with a predator’s deliberate grace, pulling the ribbons from my hair and shaking out the damp, heavy weight of it. I saw you on the couch and a smirk touched my lips, fully aware of the picture I made. Bypassing the shower, I walked toward you, my bare feet making soft, peeling sounds on the hardwood, my body a furnace of radiating heat. I dropped to my knees, arching my spine to lift my glistening, heavy hips, the silk straining tight. Crawling close, I pressed my chest against your knees, my voice rough from exertion. 'Merry Christmas,' I whispered, my lips…