Originally wrote this just for myself but I figured I should share it! This is super long I'm sorry. More under the cut
You worked hard to become a female sorcerer, it wasn't easy and full of opposition from men. You worked your ass off to spite them, you work with healing and elemental magics. You've lived in Earthrealm for years helping Lord Raiden train new champions, you notice you have grown fond of watching Liu Kang and his cousin Kung Lao training with Raiden. There was such peace you hadn't realized that the next tournament would be starting soon. You began to train more with the three of them until all of Earthrealm's champions gathered ready to fight in Mortal Kombat in Outworld. You stand beside Raiden; watching Johnny Cage fight Quan Chi. You would never say it but even though Quan Chi was both your enemy and Shinnok's most loyal servant; you found him quite attractive. His strong aura, powerful magic, strong fighting techniques, his deep baritone voice, pale white skin with tattoos, the crazy intense expressions he sometimes makes, his laugh, and his eyes. You could stare at his eyes for hours if only he worked to protect Earthrealm and not for Shinnok. You know how cold and bored his tone was but you couldn't help but feel attracted to him. You look away and clear your throat feeling an embarrassing flustering warm in your cheeks. It's ridiculous, he's Shao Khan's general who would stop at nothing to conquer Earthrealm or see Quan Chi's wish to destroy and remake it with Shinnok, a wish he does not share with any others. You look over and you blink watching Johnny defeat the sorcerer Quan Chi, you're not even certain why they want Quan Chi dead so much. You lean against a rock when a sudden burst of Quan Chi's dark magic ricochets nearly hitting you who wasn't even in the fight. Raiden appears as if teleporting in a bolt of lightning to glare at Quan Chi displeased with the necromancer. You think the necromancer is overpowered and will kill everyone in time but you sigh in relief at the sounds of Johnny's boot connecting with Quan Chi's face.
A pang of hurt makes your heart skip a beat, a deep emotion. He could never be yours but Quan Chi had saved you once a long time ago. You remember that despite being a horrible sorcerer on a mission that failed leaving you in Netherrealm by yourself, he led you to a portal back to Earthrealm and promised if you keep your lips sealed on what happened he would spare you. You agreed not having the strength to even attempt to fight him. You sigh watching Shang Tsung end the fight giving Johnny the win of the first round; for Earthrealm. You see him glance at you as the crowd disperses before vanishing without a trace, including Earthrealm's champions and Raiden; leaving just you and Quan Chi in the arena.
"Come to finish me?" he asks casually lying there.
"No, that would be no fun. Besides it would be outside of the tournament; Earthrealm would have to forfeit a round due to rule-breaking." You answer simply.
He nods with a grin. "Clever mortal."
He gets up and his eyes meet yours; you know that expression. That same boredom mixed with bitterness. "Won't Raiden and his students return to collect you soon?" he asks tilting his head his tone sounding snide.
"Oh please, I'm a strong sorcerer. He knows I can handle myself." You shrug waving it off.
He blinks seeming surprised and after a moment of silence chuckles. "Strong?" he walks a circle around you like an animal in its domain and a predator stalking its prey. You glance towards him as his presence was so domineering as if he was daring you to lie or question it. "A strong sorcerer." He repeats as if tasting the words as if mocking them. You stare back at him, you refuse to show weakness or give him the satisfaction of making you nervous. He finally grins with a smug amused expression as if satisfied to have caught you in a fib. "Why would a weak woman like you claim such an insulting lie like this." His deep tone with his condescending words sends a warm chill down your spine.
"Why would I feel like I have to lie to such a weak little man," you jab back at him watching his expression turn into a glaring scowl, your eyes trail over his body but you glance up; meeting his narrowed eyes once more.
His hands move to hold you, his nails digging slightly into your soft flesh; with his forceful grip making it obvious he could easily break your soine with his brute strength. "Try it; if you're strong enough."
A shiver rushes through your body in a warm electric chill. "Why waste my time and power on you, you couldn't even beat Johnny," you remark, salt into his pride's wound.
Quan Chi seems annoyed yet the tiniest bit amused by you and releases you.
"Tch, pathetic." He remarks coldly.
"Whatever you say; humpty dumpty," you coo in a cruel jest. You knew how much he hated it when Casie Cage; Johnny's daughter called him that. You slowly walked away ready to find Raiden and the rest of the Earthrealmers. As you leave the colossus Quan Chi suddenly teleports in front of you making you almost crash into his solid form. You look up at him with a quizzical expression and then the look on his face makes sense. The wild look, he was pissed, furious with you. With the arena now empty besides the two of you, he could have you all to himself to punish you for what you said to him.
"What are you going to do Quan Chi? Break tournament rules and ruin it for Shao Kahn, Shang Tsung, and Shinnok?" You grin, a stupid challenging grin, it had been too tempting you simply had to provoke the arrogant, full-of-himself sorcerer. His grin was broad, wide, an arrogant, cold grin.
"A weakling like you." He laughed, a mirthless tone, deep, sadistic. His hand clutched your throat and in an instant, as if he was ready to wring your pretty neck.
"Then do it," you grinned your voice sounds scratchy, hoarse, almost strangled, breathless. His grin vanished, as he stared into your eyes; his cold calculating expression was studying you; as if he thought he would find regret, fear, in you; but all he saw was that stupid, arrogant, challenging look. He grinned in turn.
"You are amusing." He says in his usual bored tone. You felt his hands loosen around your neck. "Who taught you such insolence? The infamous, God of Death? Quan Chi, being bested in a verbal argument by a human woman." His dark laugh echoes in the massive, empty arena as he releases his grip completely.
"Your daddy issues and issues with Earthrealm. All talk, Quan Chi. I am not scared of a man-boy who has to cling to anyone he can hide behind like a coward," you say nonchalantly and walk past him without giving him a passing glance. Quan Chi immediately followed with a heated rage boiling back up from under the surface, he kept his distance as the Raiden came into view. You had wondered where Raiden had wandered off to or if something more serious than Quan Chi or Johnny Cage had caught the god's attention. You feel Quan Chi's large imposing aura as he stomped behind you towards Raiden.
"You, who dares address a man as powerful as I as a petty child without a shred of decency. In my presence," Quan Chi scoffed with his arms folded over his chest; his eyes glowed slightly with anger, and with those intense looks you'd ever seen him have, Quan Chi's face seemed ready to split with the malicious grin that spread over his lips, teeth-baring; a skeletal, cruel, grin that sent a warm shiver through your spine and made him somehow all the more attractive, at the sight of it, and your heart raced.
"Aw did a little lady hurt your feelings, Quan Chi?" You ask in a tone dripping with sarcasm. Raiden glanced at you and then Quan Chi; his expression confused but thoughtful.
"That tone, you are spending too much time with Johnny Cage. You've picked up his habit of mockery. Raiden understood what was happening and decided to just watch and step in if it came to it. He knew that it might get out of hand between two full-grown adult sorcerers. Quan Chi, stepped forward and was about to make another remark but Raiden interferes to avoid a break in the tournament rules that would give Shao Khan an automatic chance to take a match.
"QUAN CHI, DO NOT FORGET. WE MUST ABIDE BY OUTWORLD RULES IN MORTAL KOMBAT. IF YOU DECIDE TO TELL SHANG TSUNG YOU WITH TO FIGHT HER AS YOUR CHALLENGER, DO IT BUT BEGONE LEAVE THE EARTHREALM CHAMPIONS ALONE," he booms interrupting any remarks or rude comments Quan Chi could've made.
"Fine." Quan Chi growls. His glare piercing into you, you knew a bit too well of his emotions right now; this was his smouldering hot wrath that boiled just beneath the surface and threatened to bubble over at any given moment or a possible bout with Raiden; you smile looking at him as you leaned casually on a rock.
"Let us go now; you should get some rest before your match begins tomorrow." Raiden directs his attention towards you; giving you a quiet and meaningful look and gestures with his hands to follow him.
"After I defeat her," Quan Chi growled darkly under his breath to himself. His thoughts seething.
'I will kill her in front of Raiden to make all of them suffer, I'll destroy her slowly before resurrecting her doing it again and again.' Quan Chi grinned as he headed back to Shao Kahn's castle. 'When she is under my mercy, I'll-' his thoughts came to a pause as stared at you as you stood before Raiden smiling brightly at the god of thunder a hand placed on his arm in a friendly manner. A twinge of jealously sparked, jealousy; he despised how you could draw out these feelings within him and he realized as Raiden put a hand on your shoulder; that he wanted to tear the God's limb away from you.
"I suppose I should head to bed, and rest up. Tell Johnny that he did great for me," you say as you walk towards the building the ladies are staying in, he nodded before flashing into the skies. You can tell a storm was approaching by the darker clouds and flashes of light in the far distance as you strolled to the women's quarters and stepped inside, closing and locking the door behind you.
The next day as the new Earthrealmers would face against Outworld Champions; your head was buzzing as you overheard Jax speaking with Sonya Blade. Your next opponent would be Quan Chi; the last few words of the conversation from last night ring in your ears as you wait to fight him. Raiden mentioned not to underestimate him, or dismiss him as he can be unpredictable and dangerous to you. You can hear Quan Chi laughing his evil, mad-sounding chuckle at something Mileena told him. Mileena, her voice like a squeal, reminded you of a tittering school girl, in some aspects. You can also feel a heavy looming presence which is coming from Shao Kahn; he stands nearby glowering down at you as you stand before him, his expression seems very unhappy as he glares at you; but as soon as you look over he turns away. You suspected Shao Khan must've placed a bet on Quan Chi's victory as he knows who can take a loss and who can't. Your name is announced, "Welcome to Mortal Kombat...Champion." the announcer bellows into the microphone as you enter the arena. You can feel your fellow champions' eyes on you; as if they are anxious for you. Your hands feel slightly clammy, you are a little nervous. Quan Chi is an accomplished sorcerer. He is intelligent, brutal, savage, dangerous, ruthless and will do everything to win a fight or in a match. The fight itself begins and you dodge his spells with ease, getting up close and personal with him hitting him hard with your elemental magic and physical strength. You've always had good physical stamina and endurance in general since you were little; always keeping yourself physically healthy. As the two of you battle each other the audience cheers loudly and rowdily. You feel him hit you back hard a few times, but you keep coming back hitting just as hard. Then you cast your strongest elemental spell onto him leaving him groaning on his back, you can hear the air escape his lungs.
"Damn you, woman." Quan Chi hisses as he gets back up quickly on shakey legs.
'I never thought that bitch could knock the wind out of him,' Shao Khan thinks as he continues to watch the fight with a deep look of bewilderment. He realizes that Quan Chi had gotten distracted by his own pride and ego thinking he wouldn't get pummelled by a human female; let alone someone who is a good couple of centuries younger than him. Quan Chi groans holding himself.
"I'll win, woman." He remarks casually and grins. You grin back and hit him hard with another strong magic bolt. Quan Chi spins around from the blow before falling over this time.
"Just stay down, Quan Chi," you tease with a broad, amused look. You feel a bit worried about him though, you may like Quan Chi and he isn't exactly the best person; but despite being so full of his self-importance; you find him charming in an annoying and attractive way. He is intriguing to you, a puzzle to be solved.
'Impressive. I have not witnessed her casting magic until now. If I did not know better I'd believe a god gave birth to her,' Shinnok mused from a stone window watching the fight, he finds it highly entertaining seeing Quan Chi getting his ass handed to him by you. Quan Chi getting knocked down yet again, lies there groaning. He had been determined to prove you, a mere mortal woman, how superior he was; and yet here you stood as he lay on the ground defeated. You are impressed you could hold your ground in a fight against the famous sorcerer, a man most warriors were deathly afraid to face. Yet here you stand a proud look on your face as you look down at Quan Chi. You offer him a hand and with an annoyed sigh, Quan Chi takes your help standing to his feet; and dusting himself off. Quan Chi then scowls at you.
"This will never happen again; never." he scorns at you.
"Cry baby," you reply and walk away a little hobble in your walk, trying to play it off as nothing. Quan Chi rubs his groin wincing at how sore it feels; after getting hit by you so hard, and from when you tried to knee him. The Outworld audience yells loudly, the arena rings with the sound. Shao Kahn hisses, barring his teeth; you glance over your shoulders his scowl had shifted from you and now to Quan Chi. He must have bet a large sum of gold or silver; knowing it was guaranteed Quan Chi was going to beat a human. 'Guess not,' you think as you walk to your Earthrealm allies; and Quan Chi walked to Shao Khan. Raiden then bows towards you and gives you a broad smile.
"I'm glad your fight ended so well, dear (y/n)," Raiden says a proud smile crossed his features, while the rest of your Earthrealm peers are cheering for you loudly.
"You guys, didn't have to get so loud. It's embarrassing," you rub the back of your head your face feels warm from their gazes and attention on you. "I'd rather not be a celebrity like Johnny Cage is."
You then hear Raiden softly chuckle behind you and he shakes his head slightly.
"Now dear (y/n), don't be embarrassed. You should be proud of yourself."
Raiden places a hand onto your shoulder and gives it a comforting squeeze.
"Thanks, I won't be next time," You grin weakly. You start to use your healing magic to fix your wounds and broken bones. When the rest of the fighters meet to continue on the rounds of matches and fights; you have earned a much-needed rest for today. As you walk back to your quarters you spot Quan Chi already training again, his wounds still very visible. You stand for a moment, as you can feel him staring at you. The corner of his mouth raised slightly in an almost silent snarl before vanishing as quickly as you'd noticed it. Shinnok seems to find the whole thing humorous and watches, from a vantage spot out of both Quan Chi and your lines of sight. Shinok looked closer at you; something about you felt familiar but he couldn't quite place it, yet.
"You should be resting your wounds, fool." You call out to him from the entryway of the training yard. He sneers back and shrugs your concerns off.
"I, unlike you humans, can keep going even after a fight," his voice mocks as he continues his training. Quan Chi found it immensely irritating how you could be such a threat to him. An annoyance, that strange warm fuzzy feeling, and he hated feeling out of control and weak against a mere, 'lowly' human woman.
"Are you sure, you want to try?" Your tone is cold yet teasing, and he looks towards you, his smile looking like the grim, cruel leer he wore the first time you'd met him. He drops his fighting stance; his breathing coming in light pants, the only sign that he is not quite ready to fight again; as he turns to look at you. You could tell the entire time, during and even after, all throughout the rest of the fight that he kept his gaze on you the entire time. Watching you. Examining you. Studying you, waiting for that tiny crack in your mental and physical shields.
"At least let me be kind to you and heal your wounds, I'll leave you alone after that." You sign knowing how stubborn he is. Quan Chi said nothing to you as he walked passed you. You take his silence and the way he stared into you like a hawk studying its prey; as a sign of interest and curiosity. You follow behind him closely, then out of a passing instinct, you reach out and gently touch his back, your healing magic rushing through him like a tsunami; soothing and knitting up his damaged muscles and cracked bones as you could see and feel; causing him to groan softly. His mind screaming to push you away as his body refused to respond.
"Why," his words were tight, almost in a grunt, as he waited for you to explain.
"Because unlike you I can have kindness and pity in my soul, even for the cruellest ones," you retorted simply, and in honesty. Quan Chi makes a disgusted sound as your hand slides down his back and off.
"Kindness is weak." Quan Chi grunts, "And weakness is useless." Quan Chi turned around suddenly to face you, standing uncomfortably close.
"Says the man who was beaten by me," you chuckle at him, looking up at him through your long eyelashes. Quan Chi scowled, his fists clenched as he stared down at you. The more he gets to know you, and the more time spent around you; the more he seems so infatuated with you, jealous of how you and Raiden seemed to be. He could tell he was growing attracted to you; even as you continued to press his buttons. He hates how easily you worm your way under his skin; like a maggot into a fresh wound. He hates how much he can feel you getting under his skin, almost literally; you knew how to rile him up and go straight to his heart like an arrow. He stood tall and regal; he did have to give credit to you and admired you were not afraid, even though everyone in their right mind would be deathly terrified or trembling. You had guts, and your magical ability surprised him. You are a puzzle he wants to solve. Something he wanted, that he had yet to fully grasp, with his gloved fingers. Quan Chi grabs the front of your shirt with his black-gloved hands and lifts you a few inches, effortlessly in the air. Your hands automatically gripped the large strong wrists with strong fingers of steel.
"Shut up," Quan Chi growled menacingly in your face. A look of amusement came over yours, Quan Chi stared deep into you. Trying to find out what is in you, trying to figure you out; Quan Chi doesn't understand how he can feel so enraptured by you.
"Or what, Quan Chi?" You ask the challenge and daring clear in your tone. His jaw clenches. Quan Chi throws you away, shoving you away from him. Quan Chi likes having a small taste of control; even if it's only a false sense, and will not be won.
"Leave me be, woman," Quan Chi scoffed.
"Fine, be a big crybaby. I did say I'd leave you alone after fixing your wounds." You say in a bored tone turning away from him. "Cry baby, cry baby~" you mock, a tone that sounded exactly like Johnny's mocking the sorcerer as you walked away; making him turn and glare at your retreating form, the angry sound of the gates shutting loudly. Shinnok is enjoying the way you seem to get to Quan Chi, watching from the balcony silently. 'So he likes her. How interesting, and amusing.' Shinnok laughs, darkly, in his evil mind.
That night you spend in bed listening to the girls all talking together; they laugh and giggle with each other. A question then popped into your mind as the girls left, and you are all alone now.
"So, why don't we go around and talk about which of the guys we like," Cassie's voice cuts through a light excitement can be heard.
"Cassie, what are you 5 again?" Sonya asks her daughter with a heavy sigh and shake of her head.
"Yes," Cassie replies with a cheesy grin and giggle before pretty much-forcing everyone to talk. You stayed silent not wanting to have this conversation. You wanted to rest and sleep. You wanted nothing more to do with this ridiculous game. Your eyes flew to your feet, as a few voices are spoken, naming the men they'd fancy. You bit your bottom lip as you felt your face grew hot; remembering his hands.
"(Y/n)!" You turn and see Sonya and the rest staring at you as if waiting for a response from you.
"Yeah?" You can feel everyone staring at you, curiously. You couldn't help but feel incredibly awkward by them.
"Have anyone in mind, or like anyone?" Says Cassie, she had a knowing expression; from the looks she would give you she seemed to have guessed something about you.
"Don't wanna talk about it," you answer quietly.
"You aren't thinking about Liu Kang; or one of the monks, right?" Sonya inquired. "Kuai Liang?"
"Ew no," you say and make a grossed-out face at her suggestion of Kuai Liang, as much as you enjoyed his energy and friendship; he's not your type and is at least a decade younger than you. Sonya noticed your grossed-out look and furrowed her eyebrows.
"Is it Raiden? I know you two are close," Cassie chimes in as if trying to solve a murder mystery.
"No, Raiden and I are just friends. I see him as a brother if anything," you reply tiredly and want them to stop pestering. But they keep naming the guys in the tournament.
"Then who is it? We've named everyone," Cassie sighs in exasperation. Cassie has a look on her face as if scrounging up names that weren't said before her look changes to horror.
"Don't, don't tell me it's Quan Chi!" She cries out in horror at the idea, she begins ranting at how bad of a choice he'd be. Your ears burn hotly; as if being placed next to an open fire, your lips parted and shut several times. The atmosphere of the room changed; a brief moment of silence went over the room. You can feel the tension. You look out the window, to the dark sky. You can feel everyone staring at you wanting you to reply to Cassie.
"why would it matter? I know better than to go for a guy like that. I know I have a type but I'm better than that," you huff out annoyed by the implication.
"It's that or it's Shinnok, and I rather not think what would happen," Cassie says.
"What if I actually don't like anyone, Cassie? I just want to sleep," you groan and you curl up onto the mattress pulling the sheets over your head. You want nothing more than for everyone to stop talking. "Let's talk tomorrow." Everyone looked at one another. The room slowly cleared out as everyone went to bed for the night, leaving you alone finally; left to the sweet refuge and comfort of a soft mattress. After the next day of more Kombat, you meet up with Raiden outside near some pillars as he awaits the next match; to meet and converse with his best student and closest friend. Raiden seems distracted and is quiet.
"You know (y/n) he will find out on his own. One way, or another," Raiden finally utters into the silent air between them, with a small exhale of a sigh and tired eyes staring out into nothing. You don't know what he is talking about, there are multiple things he could mean.
"What do mean?" You ask in a soft tone, though you feel like you are going to get yelled at by him.
"Shinok, if he finds out you are a descendent of a god of healing you are in danger," he begins with a heavy sign. "And, Cassie keeps talking to the rest of my champions about who you might like." He sounded exasperated at the thought of what his team has been up to, his fingertips rubbing his temple to stave off a headache that was brewing. It's going to be a hellish one.
"Please, don't tell me one of the girls' ideas was to suggest, Quan Chi," you wince as Raiden speaks and you glance at him. You can tell Raiden wasn't pleased about it when he heard the idea. You put your face in your hands embarrassed. You hated having people gawk at you about matters of the heart. Your ears felt hot, your chest tight at the idea that this would spread like wildfire.
"Raiden, if I tell you. You won't tell Cassie right, I have a feeling that would make this rumour spread like crazy," you state your mind and speak your worries out.
Raiden crosses his arms in front of him. He remains calm and thoughtful.
"I promise you, it'll be between us two," Raiden says calmly.
"I do... Have a thing for Quan Chi. I obviously won't act on them but..." You trail off and try to look away. You can feel Raiden's eyes burrowing into you.
"I suggest you try your very best, (y/n). Let the truth find out if you should let him in, or if it's best to avoid him."
Raiden's advice isn't helpful but you still appreciate him talking to you about this.
"Feel like a fool to have feelings for Quan Chi of all people," you chuckle weakly. You could tell Raiden agrees with you, with his silent gaze and unspoken thoughts. Quan Chi, the name still stuck to your throat and tasted as bad as burning metal would. It still rolls around in the back of your mind and rattles when he pops up again and again; it makes your heart beat faster and your cheeks feel hot. You have a great poker face in front of Quan Chi but struggle to have one with Raiden.
"Does he share these feelings you have?" Raiden finally broke his silence again, with a thoughtful expression, his mouth partially hidden under a large hand; in a pensive gesture, after mulling over the advice he had given.
"I highly doubt he can feel affection or love," you sigh loudly, almost growling at the bitter and hollow idea or the thought.
"Don't let him fool you, come, Kung Lao is about to fight De'vora," Raiden smiles slightly and places his hand onto your shoulder for comfort before leaving; his face expressionless as you feel the coolness leave from the hand-shaped spot. You knew he now feels he must worry more about you with your attraction to Quan Chi. You begin your stroll towards where you hear loud fighting noises echoing, in the otherwise quiet corridors of the arena. You feel eyes on you as you sit next to Johnny and Raiden watching Kung Lao fight. Johnny gave you a cocky grin when he notices the way Quan Chi's gaze always falls onto you, in the creepiest and sly ways.
"Man that dude Quan Chi sure does have a major boner for ya, sweet cheeks," Johnny winks over at you before you roll your eyes; your poker face coming in strong. Johnny grins a little more; pleased to see your normal attitude back in full swing and not letting these things get to you. He likes how Quan Chi seems to grow irritated with how anyone interacts with you in a positive way. Raiden raised an eyebrow slightly at Johnny's crude words but agreed with Johnny. You put up your middle finger to Johnny. Your eyes fixate back on the fight before you as De'vora is the one on the floor this time.
After the fight, Quan Chi meets up with Shinnok, Shao Kahn, and Shang Tsung and they watch the fighters leave their practice area. Quan Chi couldn't get the image of your smile and the way your face seemed to light up while you talked with others; from his mind, the way your cheeks flushed when someone made a comment about you, to the way your shirt and pants were snug against your figure, it kept running rampant within the forefront of his thoughts. Shinnok chuckles slightly at Quan Chi, who couldn't deny it. Shang Tsung had overheard the rumour Cassie had going from Mileena and couldn't help but laugh slightly before he clears his throat as the last champion leaves. Shang Tsung had already fed the rumour to Shao Kahn and Shinnok. Shinnok got along quite well with Shao Kahn even without Quan Chi involved, though Shinnok enjoys how funny Shao Kahn's rivalry with Raiden is.
"The champion, Cassie Cage has a new rumour, in the middle of a war between the Outworld forces, and our own champion warriors, " Shang Tsung begins, a knowing grin on his face. Shang Tsung enjoyed hearing juicy rumours before anything, whether they were true or not it never mattered to him.
"what?" Shao Kahn looked bored, crossing his arms over his massive chest with a heavy frown on his face.
"It's a rumour about Earthrealm's champion (y/n)," Shang Tsung paused, he likes being a storyteller.
"Her feelings towards a Kombatant, supposedly, Quan Chi," Shang Tsung says with a look of great amusement, Shao Kahn throws his head back and lets out a loud belly laugh, finding this quite ridiculous. Quan Chi glares, the pale white skin tinting pink on his nose and cheeks; like a growing angry and sour tomato as he doesn't like the others laughing or laughing at him. Quan Chi turns sharply away from the trio and leaves muttering about stupid children with stupid games. His eyes fall on you, seeing your long eyelashes blinking with curiosity and innocence he grits his jaw and his heart thuds loudly against his rib cage as if trying to break out or break a rib. Why do you have to look so stunning and enchanting? His fingers curl into fists as the three laugh with glee; loving the sudden drama amongst the heroes and the knowledge of their little secret. Quan Chi swallows, he didn't realise how quickly you had got underneath his skin and worked your way into his bloodstream; intoxicating him as well as irritating him. How annoying he finds these feelings he doesn't like, nor understand.
"Poor fool, she really is, falling for the cold heartless monster of the Netherrealm," Shao Kahn smirked and began telling Shang Tsung he may want to invite you out onto his Flesh Pits to 'discuss' this little secret of yours. Shinnok raises an amused eyebrow at Shao Kahn's comments.
"Perhaps, this could be, our greatest advantage," Shinnok states as he mulls over his thoughts and tries to plan ahead. The news of you liking Quan Chi spread like wildfire amongst both the Kombatants and their generals, much like you predicted it would, all within the course of a couple of hours. It spread even when the training and combat part of the day ended. Kitana watched your reactions curiously at the rumour of liking the foul and deceptive sorcerer. You tried your best to pretend like your insides weren't turning and flipping at the speed of light when he came up and people giggling at you. Kitana also noticed Quan Chi seems more cold, distant, and mysterious than his usual cold persona he's become well-known for.
You walk away towards that garden that you passed before the tournament began, a peaceful place to just rest and admire the plants and waterfall.
'Finally alone... And away from this madness,' you think to yourself, not noticing the dark presence. "Heard you have a crush," the low and snide voice catches you off guard and scares you.
"So you decided to creep on me while I relax too? Typical," you reply turning towards the sorcerer you wish you didn't find so attractive and fun to annoy. You shrug a little as if not bothered; ignoring him and turning your attention towards the large array of beautiful bright flowers, plants, and vines surrounding you. It is a nice distraction.
"Doesn't sound like you," Quan Chi replied. "Seems weak, unbefitting." He tries to rile you, wanting you to turn around and look him dead in his eyes. You don't seem to bite though. Quan Chi finds himself trying not to think too much about it.
"Do you find all romance, love, and emotions are weak?" You ask in a calm and flat tone, not looking at him still as you walk deeper into the garden; careful to stay a couple of feet away from the thorns and pointy bits of the bushes and hedges, you can hear Quan Chi walking close behind you.
"Why do you not look me in the eye, or at me?" Quan Chi spoke in a low drawl, you knew his eyes were boring holes into the back of your skull. You could tell from the heat he was radiating.
"Because I like the view back here. It's lovely and there are pretty flowers," you answer the question. The lie slips off your tongue easily like venom and honey.
"Let me see your face," Quan Chi states rather firmly, clearly unhappy that you haven't tried to rile him up. He's clearly unhappy with something, especially after earlier. You turn to face him; his brows are scrunched up in a furious expression, the crimson-red eyes seizing up every movement and detail he can possibly note before you. You're trying to keep a straight and even neutral expression but you can't help it your poker face slips, and a small smile forms on your face at seeing him so furious at you; it's entertaining. Quan Chi didn't want his heart thud even heavier in his chest, but it did. Seeing that pretty smile. Quan Chi swallowed a large lump forming in his throat. He tries to compose himself.
"I'll be happy when Raiden is dead at my feet," Quan Chi responds without a second's hesitation. You chuckle lightly at that but are clearly expecting such a response. He wonders if it's too obvious how easily you could wrap your finger around him like a puppy.
"Okay. Whatever you say, chief," you tease lightly as you know that will only further the flame.
"So, what did you want Quan Chi? I came out here to relax, you know," you ask calmly.
"What?" Quan Chi fakes, raising a surprised eyebrow at the question; he didn't expect you to be blunt with him without the mockery and backhanded insults. You look the sorcerer directly in the eye, he's taken aback by how intense the fire is burning behind them; though your expression seems somewhat irritated and tired. You both stop at a large fountain with a dragon spout, it is tranquil and relaxing to look at.
"Why, follow me here?" You repeat. Quan Chi doesn't need to say anything as you can easily put two-and-two together. It's like solving a riddle with how many times you both meet up like this.
"To rile and pry you about Cassie's silly rumours," Quan Chi answers the question simply.
You stare at him a moment before a tired look crosses your face.
"Alright," you say, letting out a heavy sigh at having the sorcerer constantly nipping at your ankles. You wonder if he did it because you could rile each other up from simple mockery and jabs at one another or did he genuinely care about you? You shove that thought deep, deep into the back of your mind, like a dusty old library and pretend it doesn't exist. You didn't know how or what would make him care about you. How could the infamous and fearsome necromancer with ice for a heart and a sizzling touch, suddenly care or love anything or anyone, let alone a Raiden's champion sorcerer? A strange and very unfortunate thing the heart can do. You didn't know where this would lead but there was something interesting between both of you and you weren't keen to let go any time soon; especially the entertainment you get when talking or teasing him.
Quan Chi looks like he's thinking. You wonder what is on his mind. Quan Chi stared a few seconds longer into your eyes, seemingly contemplative about the words he was about to utter. He takes a deep breath.
"Is it true?" He asks, breaking the silence. You give him a confused look for a second then realise the rumour has already reached him and everyone else. You rub between your eyebrows frustrated that he already heard the rumour and you have no choice but to be straightforward about it now. You cross your arms.
"If, you want to believe it, sure, go ahead," You throw caution to the winds and let the words flow freely into the open, and you don't really care now the truth is out. What's he gonna do? Take your bones? Probably. It's probably too late to backtrack now but you had to be real. You couldn't run forever and it seemed fruitless to try.
"It seems unlikely that anyone, even you, would have such... Bad choices for such a weak emotion," Quan Chi says as you notice his brows knitting together; clearly struggling to grasp how you could possibly hold romantic emotions towards him of all people in the realms. It was amusing to see him baffled. It was cute, Quan Chi hated being so 'vulnerable', as he would say, especially in front of you; the one who could easily get under his skin.
"why does it matter to you anyway Quan Chi? Jealous?" You tease with a sly look, knowing this would only drive him madder. You can't help yourself when he looks so angry when you get him frustrated or annoyed.
"Of all the foolish-" Quan chi muttered a dark glare crossing his features, he turned on you suddenly.
"As far as I'm aware. you don't seem interested in me Quan Chi," you begin speaking softly, with a low and amused tone, he loathed how soft it sounded especially with how his name seemed to roll off your tongue. It made a warmth flood through him and his mouth went dry. You felt confident and less embarrassed for once. He didn't back down or shy away from your strong and steady gaze, Quan Chi would not appear weak, or vulnerable, not even to the person he had a soft spot for. Quan Chi scoffed slightly.
"And if I was?" His low voice sounds like he's more like a predator who finally got his claws into his prey. His fiery red eyes remained steady with yours.
"I probably wouldn't believe you with how easily you can lie Quan Chi," your words cut into him sharply. But your words were true and honest, as painful as they were for you to say and him to hear. You had the truth roll effortlessly off your tongue easily enough, for him. Though his blood did boil a tad. He could feel it rising the longer you kept talking back. You can see him getting angry by the look in his eyes. He gets angry very often. It's still fascinating to you, even after so many times, seeing how intense they could get, how a mere look could burn hotter than the hottest fires. You knew you pushed it a tad, even with his bloodthirsty personality and attitude you knew he wouldn't lay a finger on you at least, not while the tournament was ongoing. You bite your lip.
Quan Chi found himself quickly gravitating towards your eyes, and those rosy lips he kept dreaming and daydreaming about since meeting you in person. Something about you kept the war going for dominance between his heart, brain, and other organs. Your scent, the sound of your voice. Everything is more addictive and magnetic to the dark sorcerer and he hates it. He wonders why you made him, Quan Chi so nervous. He would have killed most in a second without any question or hesitation. So why do you evoke and encourage these sorts of feelings he never experienced in his lifetime before you showed up with the other Earthrealmers? Your long eyelashes blink curiously at him as he continues to gaze upon your figure; this has a whole different feeling from your regular spats and meetings. Something much more genuine was occurring here.
The sorcerer could not deny his fascination and attraction for you, your personality and sass matched him blow-for-blow and had the guts to stand and talk to him. The irritating strength to best him in a fight. It made him attracted and drawn to you, something he would admit on a good day. You're the only mortal he knows that didn't immediately flee like a terrified bird from him. Or start a fistfight on-site like most of Earthrealm's champions. The sorcerer admires your bravery but hates the fact he wants nothing more than to toss your soft, pink lips into his own and teach your pretty body exactly the extent of his desire. You'd have no escape even if you wanted, and maybe you would. He cannot imagine losing to someone so bold, beautiful, and smart, ever.
A dangerous glint flits across Quan Chi's crimson-red eyes. You swallow thickly at the sudden silence, and his apparent strong gaze into your eyes, how does he seem to make your insides knot?
He tilts your chin towards him, your breath hitches and Quan Chi thinks you're a little beauty, to his surprise he finds himself leaning in to claim your pretty and delicate lips. They were soft and plush like you took good care of them; a part of him wanted to savour, tease, and torture you until you begged him for a release. Then once you have called his name with need, desire, and want, maybe just maybe he'd give you release. His blood thumped in his ears and he felt breathless; you were intoxicating, from the faint perfume that stuck onto the fabric of your clothing, the sweet taste of your lips which he wouldn't admit was quite pleasing to devour. Your body felt soft underneath his touch but strong, but you were unafraid to throw his strength aside. His thumb rubbed across your jawline softly with a tenderness he's not known for. Quan Chi wanted nothing more than to go on forever and for everyone to know and realise that you were his. The dark sorcerer hated the strong thumping of his heartbeat in his throat from a kiss, you'd think someone as cold and stern as Quan Chi would remain cool and distant but that couldn't be the furthest thing from the truth. A long and searing kiss later the pair of you, stand breathless and breathing heavily with faces flushed.
He stared down at your wide eyes that blinked up at him confused yet dazed, lips slightly parted; your rosy coloured cheeks a charming shade of light pink and your body trembling and quivering, it was delightful to his ego. That you, a sorceress who could fight the likes of Goro without so much as flinching, were currently quivering like a small rabbit. And his doing. Quan Chi internally prided himself a bit knowing that. Even the pale white skin looked flush with warm colours. He truly enjoyed seeing the soft and sweet reactions. Even if you could punch a hole into his stomach if you so wished.
You took a couple of minutes to process the sudden kiss. That definitely was not how you saw this conversation playing out. However, you didn't hate it in the slightest, the kiss was warm and had an unknown fiery passion inside it. You felt completely captivated by it, the way he tenderly held you made it seem so tender.
"Hmm," Quan Chi grunted in slight approval and smirked. "It is settled then," Quan Chi states as a matter of fact to your surprise, without asking or conferring with you about what you thought of the kiss. Which left you stunned, was that it?
"Huh?" You say dumbly and with a raised eyebrow and an extremely puzzled and confused expression at the dark sorcerer. Did he really just walk away as if he did not just claim your lips a couple of moments ago? With no hint of what might be expected next? Quan Chi appears slightly irritated, even though he initiated the kiss.
"Me and you. Together," he states bluntly looking at you as though it should have been the most obvious thing. You sigh and run a hand through your hair. This really is going to be complicated, isn't it.
"I don't think a relationship is decided based on a single kiss," you respond with a long, exaggerated sigh. "Besides, you are my enemy. You haven't proven anything to me, for all I'm concerned you could just be toying around with me," you reply a stern expression on your face, though you keep a smile; you're not surprised it took less than 5 seconds for the other's blood and temper to rise up again. You don't know why you keep talking and responding but he's just an infuriating and devious man.
"Who's toying with you?" Quan Chi states as if trying to act offended. "You think I would not want you near me, that my attentions were mere falsehoods?!" You could see the steam practically billowing out of Quan Chi's ears.
"You told Cassie, right?" You raise an eyebrow at Quan Chi, already suspecting his motives and the obvious jealousy that played a role in him kissing you in the first place; to spite Cassie or something. He may play an elaborate game, but there is not a subtle bone in this warlock's entire body.
"You aren't exactly hiding that you like to cause a fuss Quan Chi, even I'm not that blind. Plus, I know you like to stir up the pot with me around," you state nonchalantly. The more you spoke the angrier Quan Chi appeared as though you struck a cord, his fists tightened and you could almost smell the burning fury coming from him.
Quan Chi's furious expression seemed to darken as he did not want you to get in the final word but your logic made sense, damn it all. You saw through his game like a simple piece of thinly pressed parchment. "Have a good night Quan Chi I'm going back to my room. Why don't you be a good dog and run on back to Shinnok," you say in a sarcastic tone waving him off as you walk away from him into the castle, you have more important things to deal with other than whatever feelings are going around right now. You head back inside the large doors, and down the corridor towards where the champions' sleeping quarters were, passing by Cassie and the rest of her squad and bidding them goodnight. Cassie gave you a small smirk and raised eyebrows, you shoot her a look of tiredness and annoyance not wanting to hear another round of her questions and teases.
"There you are, where have you been? Raiden's looking for you," Cassie asks, eyes squinting up with a sly grin. "You meet up with anyone outside? Maybe a secret love interest? I can't see you and the clown getting along together," she throws in with a low hoot as if you're in the middle of a wrestling ring for her amusement. You shake your head with an exasperated expression at her before answering.
"Uh-huh. What do I look like, an animal in a zoo?" you reply with a wry smile and snort, your brows raise and your tone sounds like she's on thin ice with that accusation. "Why am I always your priority anyway, is something going on, Cassie?" You turn the questioning on her with a slightly tired expression.
"It seems everyone saw you head into the garden with Quan Chi stalking behind you a couple of hours ago. The guy has it bad for you or something. Kano wouldn't shut up about how and I quote 'lucky Quan Chi would be to get into your pants'," Cassie responds without skipping a beat. You roll your eyes. Cassie's an inquisitive and nosy individual but you can see the humour and intent isn't malicious in her tone or attitude. Just a playful banter and poking of a sore and raw wound, as expected from one's future leader.
"That's just fantastic," you muse and sigh, pinching your brow. "No, I haven't and wasn't kidnapped either. He has a temper, Cass, you know how easily I piss him off, so why not use that knowledge for some amusement? Though it would be nice to get some sleep," you inform her as honestly as you can, rubbing at your dry and heavy eyes, as the weight of the conversation finally hit you. It had gotten quite late now. How late was it now? You aren't exactly sure. But you know Raiden is still looking for you.
"Okay, that's great. But you better prepare yourself with what Kano had to say earlier. Man's like a dog on heat with women," Cassie gags and rolls her eyes before heading off into her own room for the night. You bite the inside of your lip before heading off to find Raiden, curious to know what is so important that they have to tell you. You walk past the dark corner near your bedroom and come face to face with Quan Chi staring. You know better than to interact right now, with Raiden looking for you.
"Not right now Quan Chi," you sigh softly, staring the other straight into the eyes with an emotionless gaze, a cold and dark shadow casts a dim darkness over the corridor the sorcerer stood in, though his red eyes seemed to burn brighter than ever. A look of clear disapproval, disgust, and malice saturates them. Clearly not impressed by your statement.
"Is that so?" Quan Chi hums lowly, staring you up and down as if assessing a piece of meat.
"Raiden's looking for me, I doubt you want a fight with him right now," you state blankly at Quan Chi while passing by him. He grips your arm. You growl low and quietly in your throat. You grit your teeth.
"Hands. Off. Now." you demand coldly, tugging away at his grasp. He let go. Though his grip had loosened before you'd even finished the last word. You slip away and quickly head further inside the castle leaving the sorcerer alone, outside of the window you can see Raiden hovering. You look for a balcony or somewhere to stand and talk with him.
"Is something the matter Raiden, that I need to talk about this late into the night?" you begin with a more than obvious tiredness in your voice. You sit on a ledge of a wall near the windows. You are glad to be talking to the god again, you feel comfortable with him and no pressure at all. It's a welcome change after having Quan Chi kiss you and then treat you the way he had when you returned to the others. Quan Chi will need to learn patience and work harder than that if he truly wants something between you two to become anything more than mere feelings of longing and jealousy, whatever the situation was with him you were not entirely ready to give in to him or whatever lies he might be spewing.
"Yes. I believe so," he stated slowly his deep voice thoughtful as it laced with concern. "Cassie, Sonya, and Kuai told me something most curious and worrying..." he trailed off turning towards you as if trying to discern and discover something on your face, eyes carefully narrowing in thought. Your thoughts remained placid and calm, everything would be alright so long as the Earthrealm champions prevailed in the ongoing tournament, it didn't have anything to do with the unexpected events today and a certain red-eyed male who is less of a headache when not near you.
"Cassandra Cage told me she saw Quan Chi following after you while you went to the gardens earlier this evening. Is there anything between the two of you?" He enquired.
"What, between Quan Chi and me?" you sound highly uncomfortable and weary, sighing, you run a hand through your already ruffled mess of hair. The clouds above are heavy as if preparing to pour down rain soon. You look up at him with tired, unyielding eyes.
"No. There is nothing. Though he did....Kiss me while I was in the garden." your hands began to shake lightly; you hate talking about matters of your heart and the unexpected emotions Quan Chi, invoked with ease. You curl and uncurl your shaking fingers. You'd rather avoid this kind of subject matter with the thunder god, but you'd rather be honest here.
The atmosphere turns dark with clouds that hinder your view and it seems it has begun to rain heavily too, thunderous growls and rumblings crack the night's sky and you find it hard to read the emotions within Raiden's eyes. He opens his mouth as to ask something else when the door is knocked, interrupting whatever he is about to say. A moment later it opens revealing Cassie with a sheepish expression and tone.
"Raiden sorry to interrupt," he gestures to the blonde to speak without a hint of agitation or anger in his words. "I'll be quick but, some of the younger champions were planning a movie night in the entertainment room, everyone's invited," she states sounding excited.
"Would you two care to join us?" her tone carries a small, soft yet cheeky twinkle in her grey eyes as they slide between you and the thunder god. The offer is nice, but as tempting as it sounds, your exhausted, both physically and mentally.
"Another time Cassie, I'm exhausted from today," you wave and shoot the blonde an apologetic yet small smile which she seems to understand without needing any more words.
"Hey no worries, sleep tight," Cassie states with a happy shrug. She closes the door as you turn back to Raiden. The sky still seemed to be thick with the grey and black clouds as lightning sporadically streaked through them. You watch and wait to see if Raiden would like to continue the conversation, which he does.
"I'd recommend to stay vigilant around the Netherrealm sorcerer. While he doesn't pose too much of a threat within the tournament his intentions seem murkier than usual.
You shake your head. "Sorry for worrying you. But don't be, you shouldn't worry about it. I know what he's like. I'm sure I can handle whatever it is Quan Chi's playing at," You lay a reassuring hand on his broad shoulders. His tense shoulders somewhat relax as his face looks somewhat concerned and distressed.
You smile before letting your hand fall and walking back towards your room to sleep; after today you feel you've deserved some well-earned rest. He watches your figure retreat from sight before shooting you a smile as he does every night, that one last smile meant only for you and no one else. It was tender and caring.
"Goodnight Y/n. Dream safe," he tells you warmly, his gaze on you fondly before you disappear behind the doorframe. It brings a small smile to your lips despite being slightly agitated by his questioning, his protectiveness was endearing and comforting, something you'd come to expect from Raiden. You lay in your bed shutting your eyes and let the peace and silence fill the void of your room. Quietly you fell asleep.
When you wake up the sun is bright and high, and you quickly bathe, get dressed, and grab a bite to eat in the morning sun before the day begins. Quan Chi remains elusive and yet very visible, you see him glowering as he sneers in the hallways where you talk to the Shaolin monks about the recent fights; You can't help but smile smugly knowing it infuriates Quan Chi, though you have no reason to mock him but you'd take any victory against Quan Chi, petty or not. If it brought you some sort of amusement, even if it was at his expense then that was worth it in itself, the way his lips twist and curl into a frown makes your stomach flutter a little. Even if he wasn't fully human you could still tell the sorcerer was frustrated, to say the least.
It was even more amusing seeing Goro, Reptile, and Baraka's jaw drop, they didn't understand how you got away with annoying and pissing Quan Chi off so easily without the warlock killing you there and then. They stare incredulously in silence and confusion, barely able to register or grasp the full reality of what they are seeing; It appears to be some sort of divine punishment against Quan Chi, whom you taunt without a single second thought about his wrath or whatever feelings were in those empty black-grey sockets his eyes sat in.
You couldn't help but enjoy how quickly you seemed to be getting under his skin like an itchy rash. That seemed to be the idea. Despite his glare not doing much against you, if anything, you have proven more times than not that you did not give a damn about whatever threats or ultimatums he gave, at times even laughing at them.
To you, it seemed like it was almost as much of a game to Quan Chi as it was for you, as he stared, the way those dull, cold orbs settled onto you and observed you like some fascinating curio only made your cocky and teasing attitude more apparent.
It took until you were helping train with Liu Kang for his fight against Baraka that Quan Chi tried to capture your attention away from the tournament. By skulking nearby, with his bland commentary as if to get you to speak while training with Johnny Cage, Liu Kang, and Fujin. You aren't going to make it easy for him that much is for sure. Liu and Johnny are talking about him with Fujin while you do your warmups, before joining the men and begin.
"Can't resist a peek ay Quan Chi?" You shout over to Quan Chi as the boys laugh. It feels good to joke and tease the sorcerer. As you mockingly wave and jeer towards his scowling, seemingly unamused form, Fujin can't help the chuckle, chuckles growing into loud laughs. Johnny and Liu can't hold themselves together, their stomach muscles almost sore from the laughter. Quan Chi was taken aback by the jab and couldn't hold himself together as his temper quickly got out of control.
"Aww where are you going? Did I hurt your pride again?" You joke again as the sorcerer now storms off in anger the other fighters give you a raised eyebrow but not to be deterred from your strange tactics of riling the sorcerer up, they keep on laughing. It feels like it's the funniest thing to occur in days, some much-needed and light-hearted relief after all of the fighting and training everyone is enduring. Fujin couldn't remember a time the Netherrealm sorcerer acted the way he did before you'd shown up and made a ruckus and havoc within Quan Chi, something no other mortal has done, as far as the Wind God has known.
"You can't tell me it's not funny how easily I get under his skin, Fujin," you laugh loudly. "Don't give me that look Fujin, or is it weird for a mortal and demi-god like me to do something to our opponents in our favour?" You muse out loud, turning towards the Wind God, one of the brothers of the Thunder God Raiden whom you respect. He snorts.
"If that's what you wish to call it, to me it seems more like mean flirting but no. I can't find myself disagreeing with you. That is highly unorthodox behaviour for Quan Chi but very entertaining!" The God of Wind howled with amusement.
You laugh a light flush coming to your cheeks. Fujin chuckles seeing you go a tad red as you are not known for embarrassment easily, usually having some form of cocky retort to most things, the warlock included. Even if it had you blush you wouldn't really lose your head over Quan Chi no matter how many butterflies fluttered in your chest. Though that thought would definitely not leave your lips. Especially since you haven't stopped thinking about Quan Chi and his odd ways, while you weren't entirely impressed by him, the way you make him fume makes you laugh internally. It was quite entertaining watching the normally stern and poised sorcerer suddenly losing it at any jokes about him that you threw his way.
You return to warming up with the others. Preparing and mentally readying yourself for your upcoming match after a couple of gruelling hours, you knew the time had finally come to stand face to face with Baraka, to take on the Tarkatan and test your skills again for the tournament, it wasn't going to be a walk in the park you knew as much. Quan Chi was probably delighted by the prospect of seeing you on your knees begging for mercy. For now, however, you have other concerns.
"You got this?" Johnny questions, slinging a rough arm around your shoulder, Liu looks concerned though quiet, and Fujin simply smirks proudly, knowing you won't make either of them worry and disappoint you. You can feel Quan Chi's eyes staring daggers at you and the guys making physical contact with you.
"Never doubted." You wink, taking the steps down the stairs and into the arena once more to see Baraka, as brutal and unkempt looking as ever, already waiting patiently for you to arrive.
"About time I'm eager to split you in two," he shouts angrily, emphasizing it with his arm blades jutted outwards at either side with excitement. His red eyes glowed menacingly as did his sharp teeth and curved blade-like appendages.
You say nothing getting into a fighting stance opposite. With his violent attitude, you're already prepared. What comes as no surprise is how ruthless Baraka is, aiming straight for the kill as he has done throughout the tournament, all whilst smiling wickedly at the possibility that you may just lose the fight. He wanted you to submit, scream, or beg for mercy. But this wasn't his first rodeo or even his second or third; Baraka had not seen you train as hard as the others; he didn't know the dedication, drive, and determination behind why you were training so much. He had no idea or concept of what made you tick in the ring. It wouldn't matter when you won.
It doesn't take long for both of your energies to grow fuelled, both ready to attack, defend, and push for victory, the crowds roaring their approval and support while the others stood on the sidelines watching, many eagerly watching and cheering their encouragement for you, knowing well the advantage you have and could use.
Baraka's rage seemed to be peaking with how short he is in losing patience; he rushes blindly, enraged, towards you, his rage at your defeat becoming overwhelming. There is no way in hell you would lose to the Tarkatan, despite how he had gained a few tricks to utilise in the fight. Despite the difference in speed and the other differences between you and Baraka. There is one crucial difference, a little-known factor you always tended to remember and had not failed yet: Skill.
A solid leg sweep, swift and sure, had Baraka stumbling, leaving you to close the distance, leaping above his sprawling and confused form, striking his cranium with your heel. It is a sound, successful kick that has your opponent reeling backwards, both in surprise at the bold, unexpected strike and pain from the actual damage caused by your kick. You get ready to hit him, hard with a quick flying punch, aiming for his nose when it snaps upwards at you. You spin the other way, his razor blade grazes your arm and cheek. It was a long slash that looked painful, it stung, and you winced slightly, hissing as a result.
As blood trickled down your face and arm, your left forearm having the long gash of his arm blades, it stung like crazy and yet you were determined to get back at Baraka. And by this point, the pain was mere white noise. He's rushing forward in hopes of tackling you to the ground, but you jump, rolling on your shoulders to quickly right yourself, and you kick his legs out from underneath him, hitting him with another strong kick. You hear him cry in pain when he lands on his ass.
Despite the agonizing sting of the gashes, you make Baraka eat a fist or kick when he tries to swipe at you with his sharp blades. By now his arrogance and pride seem to have left his face. Only leaving anger and wrath in his expression and stance. His body seems to be aching, and as his chest heaves, he waits for you to attack.
It seems that Baraka had never thought of or at least he couldn't think of what to do at your rapid succession of attacks. Having expected you to be fairly defenceless and slow he was surprised to see that your speed had more than tripled and even in his mind, he didn't feel it wise to let the fight go on any longer. His blades are already stained a pretty red and blood already stain your top, your arms and legs already covered with drying blood from your body or his you didn't know, you don't even bother wiping or looking down to see the state you are in, you aren't paying the cuts much attention and for now. That doesn't matter, the blood only acts as a deterrent to push and shove on.
With one last final assault, it is enough to win over the final rounds and decide the victor of the match, having proven your worth and skills by thoroughly putting the Tarkatan in his place. He is forced into a kneeling position. Face now sullied with a mixture of dirt, blood, and sweat. If looks could kill, you'd definitely be six feet under or incinerated. There are even people shouting your name as you shake with adrenaline and rush-induced highs and you smirk at Baraka, his fanged teeth and furious red orbs staring at you venomously; It isn't until you feel his forehead meet with your hand. The crowds are now going ballistic at the sheer intensity of the fight you and Baraka have endured. Your arms were sliced and gushing blood, blood smearing all over your arms and clothes.
Johnny is the first to greet you when you walk through the gates into the spectator area, almost immediately hugging you in celebration of another hard-fought victory and Liu is not too far behind. You breathe heavily, feeling the pain coming back after your adrenaline has faded into a low hum, your breath is shaky as it shudders. Still trying to compose yourself from the rush that fights gave you, almost electrified, not realising you had started to shiver. Liu's brows are knitted with worry as he and Johnny watch you take steady but laboured breaths to steady yourself, as you grip the arena's railings.
"I...I'm okay...I think," You wheeze out between heavy breaths. Blood running down your face. "I can deal with the wounds. Go, you have a fight too." You manage weakly, now allowing Johnny to pry you off the metal. A look of uncertainty crosses both their faces. You smile at both of them as Raiden and Fujin come to check on you.
"C'mon guys. Quit babying me. I know what I'm doing," you protest and reassure them gently, despite feeling the throbbing from both your arm and cheek. Each area where Baraka's blades had cut and drawn blood ached tremendously. Still, your comrades knew that you knew the dangers of your own power, and of Baraka's. After a quick reassurance and comforting squeeze of Liu's hand, they were now both heading back to the waiting area, presumably to train. It felt nice that you had the opportunity to catch your breath, the wounds stung with a deep throb from your temples, cheeks, and forearms.
Raiden came to inspect your injuries briefly as Fujin guided you down, to an empty pier to rest on as you began to use your healing magic to alleviate some of the pain in the meantime, wincing from the lingering pain, your lips parted to form a silent hiss at the burning feeling in your skin from the magic. You heard the clacking of heeled boots from behind, someone approaching as you groaned slightly at the sting in your cheek; Though you didn't have the energy to stop using your magic to inspect whoever the intruder was, your magic didn't have the ability to just heal instantly; You would need to channel the energies into your healing magicks if you wanted the full extent of its abilities.
You had heard him laugh, Quan Chi laughed rather loudly and scornfully, almost maddened and full of sarcasm. How typically Netherrealm it was that the person approaching and checking up on you was the enemy.
"You should really be more careful with those scars you leave behind, especially if that will hinder your performance for the tournament later," Quan Chi's voice drawls condescendingly, the smug tone all you need to know he enjoyed watching you get sliced up like a Sunday roast. It made you lash out in your own condescending tone as his arrogance riled you up further, your anger-filled gaze fixed on the sorcerer's grim face as he leaned to stand above you. You feel both Raiden and Fujin move closer to you as if ready to lunge out and attack Quan Chi.
"I have no time for you right now Quan Chi. I know my limits and how to train them instead of fully relying on magic like you," you bit back a little more harsher than intended, but it seemed to have done the trick at silencing his taunts. Even Quan Chi hadn't expected the harshness of your tone to him. You couldn't even look at him, your body hurt. The burn from your wounds closing slowly was torturous. Your heavy breathing and groans were audible. Your body wouldn't fully handle your healing magic well; neither casting of receiving. You knew you wouldn't be able to fully close your wounds; it hurt more to heal your wounds yourself than when others healed or treated the injuries you had sustained. You had to stop your powers before you passed out. You sighed heavily as you leaned back trying to catch your breath eyes shut tight brows knitted upwards, you felt like you could faint if you strained yourself further.
"Why are you really here, Quan Chi?" Your breathlessness was quite obvious, still trying to even your breath, but your wounds weren't fully healed, the fact that you weren't healing them fully only gave you an immense and overwhelming amount of pain to endure as a result. As if taunting you. Though you're proud of your resistance and endurance in handling the pain as well.
"This tournament is proving to be boring with all of this human drivel," the necromancer began with a drawl.
"If I'm so boring go bother Baraka, he's in far worse shape than I am," you remark tone full of snarky jibes towards him. Unable to help the victorious smirk that played upon your lips, Quan Chi stared, mouth set in a flat line with unblinking, icy, coal eyes boring holes into you.
"Careful Quan Chi, I know Raiden and Fujin are here. They see me as a little sister their real protective." You grin as you crack one eye open to look at him even if your vision is blurry at the moment. Fujin was silently staring at the sorcerer, it was almost comedic how intensely and warily the Wind God was watching and glaring at the warlock with suspicion written over his expression, while Raiden stood close arms crossed over his chest like a disapproving parent waiting for an explanation.
Quan Chi grunted. This was turning out to be a lot harder than the sorcerer had anticipated it would turn out. For a mortal you were the most aggravating being, not just because you insulted and humiliated him on a daily basis, it was everything about you that had gotten underneath Quan Chi's skin and taunted him, a mortal was too infatuated, too flirtatious, and had too much sway over his mind. His eyes watched your throat with each pant and swallow of saliva in your parched, dry mouth. How your heavy breathing filled his mind with less than appropriate thoughts of a mortal. How your groans and whines at the agony of your wound, combined with your body's involuntary and natural reflexive arch of your neck back as you swallowed did terrible things to him.
The sorcerer swallowed. This was ridiculous! How were you making a demonic entity feel such shameful emotions? What spell had you cast upon him? Was it part of your powers to influence him in such a manner to make him feel like a love-sick teenager? You are just a human and Quan Chi is not just any man. There was something wrong. There had to be some form of dark magic at work. But for now, the sorcerer needed to maintain the illusion that nothing was awry.
"Everything alright Quan Chi? Your quieter than usual," You breathe out. He notes how heavy your breathing has become and yet the way your body heaves brings a flush of red to the warlock's cheeks.
He huffs, snapping out of his reverie and forcing his gaze off the visible neck that has started to glisten with perspiration. He watches Raiden and Fujin tilt their heads to watch him expectantly; you're just about healed enough to at least move properly without much difficulty or injury. Your exhaustion is apparent and clear for the warlock to see.
Quan Chi catches Raiden staring and doesn't miss the way his expression turns grim with caution at his closeness to you, not to mention the look Fujin is giving him, while you look out of sorts at your battle against Baraka. Quan Chi keeps his eyes straight, keeping his icy stare ahead in your general direction.
He didn't like that you could have him breaking his façade. It unnerved him that a human woman could ever cause him to feel these foolish emotions. You groan softly as you lean forward pulling your head back up into an upright position, as a soft hiss leaves your lips as you stand fully still not fully looking at him. You knew he hated when you refused to actually look at him.
"If you were waiting to watch me die to have me as a revenant you're going to be waiting a long time," you laugh with a weak breath, attempting to turn and move past him. You stumbled slightly your energy completely drained. He grabbed your shoulder, earning a growl from the gods that stood behind you; Fujin's eyes had an other-worldly glow as his scowl was directed to the warlock. Raiden was ready to grab you himself, hand raised up already charged, while you tensed at the sorcerer's hand upon your shoulder.
"I would let go for your own safety," you laugh with another weak wheeze, hearing the charging crackle of lightning in the air. Even Quan Chi sensed Raiden and Fujin preparing to defend your well-being from whatever scheme or motive had made its way to the back of Quan Chi's mind and was clearly only thinking of an excuse. A huffed breath escaped the warlock's mouth at your words. It annoyed him and furthered his fascination with your brazenness and disrespect. His anger and annoyance are quelled a spark of frustration causing the warlock to do a stupid thing.
Quan Chi merely replied "How is a little thing like you gonna fight in the final? Especially if Baraka gets the best of you?" You can hear it in his tone; he is taunting you and is simply trying to rouse your temper. The warlock watches your expression with delight, catching a brief twitch of your brow upwards.
Your back straightens, your voice surprisingly composed for a woman who still needs to tend to her still open painful wounds.
"I will win this out of pure spite Quan Chi," you say as you gut-check him hard enough to knock the wind out of him. "Besides I beat you didn't I?" You tease as you walk away from him on sore wobbly legs. The two gods close behind you in case you fall. Quan Chi wheezed quietly, having been completely knocked over by the sheer force behind your punch, and landing ungracefully onto the cobblestone path with a grunt. Not even noticing you were already walking away in the other direction, laughing softly at yourself.
Quan Chi narrowed his eyes as he regained the feeling in his gut, and staggered back up, but not before Fujin and Raiden stopped him with a firm stare as Fujin spoke up with a hushed whisper, his voice somewhat stern.
"Leave her be, warlock," Fujin growls with an uncharacteristic sneer of distaste on his features. Quan Chi suspects it has everything to do with your bond to the gods and you being their adoptive sister. Fujin's voice is low. He seems to be unaware that you have not yet gone that far from where you and Quan Chi have spoken. Your breathing is laboured as you limp a little, from your wounds. Your magic takes a massive strain to use your healing abilities on yourself; something, Quan Chi wants to see the limits to.
Quan Chi gave Fujin a particularly annoyed glance, not at all taking too kindly to be told what to do, whether to leave or not. Especially by a god-like Fujin, his head tilting sharply in the god's direction. He was not the least bit intimidated or pleased with the sudden brazen attitude, that was unusual of a god who was considered to be rather docile. Fujin glared a moment longer before continuing, arms crossed over his chest; he did not drop his gaze, still unamused with Quan Chi's antics towards you.
"We've had quite enough of your games Quan Chi. Neither she nor Liu Kang have any use of a coward who hides behind illusions to manipulate and enchant the dead or their descendants," Fujin continued sharply, his usual soothing and calm tone holding a bite to it. Raiden took that as his opportunity to join in.
"Be grateful she even allows you to stand near her after what happened in the gardens," Raiden hisses as he walks past Quan Chi to stay near you, your weakened state has made the Thunder god and Fujin keeps their guard high as Raiden fists are ready to thunderstorm anything in a twenty-metre radius. Fujin moves and follows his brother.
You kept limping with each step you took, though you tried not to seem injured or in any pain as you caught Johnny's and Liu's worried eyes on you. "I'm fine!" You call out to them with a weak thumbs up and lopsided smile. Liu frowned in concern, moving towards you the second you stumble and feel Raiden's hands wrap around your shoulders, letting you slump into him and rest a little, knowing you used your healing powers to aid yourself, but at the same time weakening yourself.
Liu and Johnny still rushed over anyway. Your friends came over quickly as Raiden stood supporting you while Fujin fussed and tried to move Raiden's hands away, so he could inspect the damage. You chuckled weakly when you had recovered your strength a little. You heard the nervous banter between Johnny and Liu before you felt the latter of the two quickly check your wounds. Liu let out a quiet 'oh my god', as Raiden held you up.
"I don't think we've ever seen you actually look this scared dude," Johnny teased a little when he got close enough to see how fast Liu had gone pale in seeing your injuries, the worry evident on his features as his gaze slowly found yours. The poor man was frantic and frantic is never a word you would associate Liu Kang with.
"(y/n)! I thought that...I don't know, he could've cut your eye and-"
"I'm fine Liu, I just need a few stitches and bandaging, and I'll be fine. I nice nap does sound good as well," you laugh lightly, pushing yourself up and standing firmly again. Liu's hand still hadn't moved from its spot on your elbow, Raiden was reluctant to let you go, knowing your limits, and right now you looked exhausted. You sighed, not wanting to worry them, "I think I'm good, just gonna be a bit sore that's all," You hum softly, seeing Raiden's unimpressed scowl, not happy at all with your health state or your magic's repercussions, Raiden's eyes glance away from you, making you notice Liu standing there with concern painted all over his face, your heart almost melts from seeing his concern, knowing well how overprotective he can be, and no doubt, your injuries looked bad, you sigh.
"Would it make you feel better if I let you take me to the medical staff, Liu?" You coo softly, noticing how his expression had changed a little with your comforting smile.
You could hear Johnny groaning about the fact that they would need to get to the medical wing of the arena, hearing Sonya's voice shouting from the waiting area as he looked back towards her before looking back at you.
"Go on Johnny, I'll be fine. I have these three who are as stubborn as me," you chuckle weakly, pushing past your discomfort as Raiden gives the three of you a reassuring nod Johnny scoffs and then smirks and rubs his palms together in a menacingly comedic gesture before shouting towards Sonya.
"He's such a love-sick dork for her," you say softly as you try walking on unstable legs again. Liu moved quickly; it had taken him less than a second to move over and wrap your arm over his shoulder.
"Let's get you to the medical wing," he replied a small smile forming on his lips as he heard your thankful hum in response. He didn't like how it felt seeing the marks that were slowly becoming scars, they didn't look pleasant to look at or the pain you would have to go through. You feel Raiden move your other arm to be wrapped around his shoulder, support from both sides. You can hear Fujin fussing about you even attempting to walk when any one of them could just carry you to the medical wing, all that left the Wind god's mouth. Liu chuckled at that, still worried about you and the current condition of your wounds. Raiden let his gaze rake across your arm that draped across his shoulder, the deep slice of that muscle is clearly seen in the bright red blood and dried red blood staining your flesh worries him, and he doesn't want to upset you either; his eyes searched the gash until he saw you looking back at him with a tender smile.
"It's alright, I can handle some scratches," you coo trying your best to calm the overprotective thunder god.
"Only if we hurry and fix your wounds faster."
Raiden sighed quietly to himself; the slight smirk that formed on your lips was what did him in, it was that confidence and resilience that showed despite your situation; still smiling like you're not in the throes of bleeding out and fainting. Liu watched the two of you banter a little.
Raiden snickers "Maybe Quan Chi is just really trying to win you over," you laugh, finally hearing Liu start chuckling a bit as the trio all managed to reach the infirmary, which thankfully had become much quicker than anticipated with both Liu Kang and Raiden half-carrying you and with Fujin rushing ahead to find the medical staff or anyone that might be able to patch you up in the immediate area. You let out a loud breathy laugh at that joke, a huge contrast to how you must've looked before Quan Chi spoke with you moments ago, both Liu and Raiden see the change in your countenance, despite it only lasting a moment, the tension eases off your body as Liu helps situate you in the infirmary bed, sitting on your right-hand side, careful not to bump into your injured arm. Fujin rushed out, hands full of what looked to be dressings and tape. Your eyes feel so heavy; your body hurts and feels like it was made of stone.
The last thing you can feel or even hear is the panicked voices of Liu and Fujin trying to shake you awake.
Waking up in a haze, with nothing in your blurry line of sight. You try and recall the last moment before passing out. Then you feel the pulsing pain across your entire body, a strangled groan is pulled from your throat, and you hear fast footsteps approach you, it sounds like two people running in a hurry.
Your name was uttered in a foggy static haze you could barely make out, but your ears could hear the person speak clearly with each word, the static of pain and the fatigue clouding over your senses had become so strong it took you all the strength you had left to lift a hand, a faint gesture telling whoever it was.
"I'm okay," a sigh leaves your lips as the static in your ears fades a bit. Your mouth feels dry. You blink your vision focusing a little. It looks like you're still in the infirmary but it is darker outside, a moonlit dark with clouds covering the view of the moon from your window, "just... geez, I feel exhausted and everything hurts." you wince.
Hissing sharply as you sat up, you hissed a little, shifting to a slightly more comfortable position and sighing once more before looking at whoever was around you, looking directly in front of you, there in the room was Raiden and Fujin. You yawned, moving forward so your legs could stretch and hang over the bed, your feet touching the cool marbled floor as you moved yourself. Your wounds hiss and sting in protest to moving your muscles, especially your arm. You stare blankly for a moment at your wrapped-up limb; the cloth bandaging has dark red stains visible and clear enough for your eyes to make out. "how long was I out?" you inquire.
"A day." You only reply with a small "oh," your lips pursed together as the weight of those words sink in and hits you like a boulder, a bit dazed and confused. You recall being brought in to be treated after your last battle against Baraka, but Fujin looks even paler, and so is Raiden you suppose that should be a little alarming because if you think about it a little; a whole day has passed since then. It feels like it should worry you, but instead, you only respond with another quiet "Oh," a sigh leaves your lips and you hear a rustling of your sheets before looking down and feeling the rough yet soft texture of bandaging in several places, you hadn't realized how badly you where injured. No wonder Liu had looked so concerned; you probably did look horrible in your fighting attire covered in blood and wounds. You look down at your arms; a fair amount of bandaging had been tightly wrapped, and the other areas were clearly patched up and tended to as well if the marks on your abdomen and left leg were anything to go by. The memory comes back to you slowly, and it makes you pause.
"I'm sorry to have worried you both, along with Liu Kang." Raiden sighs, moving from his place standing beside your bed to sit in the seat on the right-hand side, reaching for your hand.
"Fujin and the Shaolin were particularly concerned about you."
"You don't worry about your little sister Raiden?" You ask in a joke as a smile crosses your face, noting the way his head tilts and his face scrunched up with annoyance, his own reply was as mocking.
"Of course, (Y/N). There's no reason to think otherwise." Fujin chuckled in amusement, seeing how his brother and adoptive sister were now bantering like you hadn't just woken up from being asleep for over twenty-four hours, the Thunder God's expression looked softer when looking down at the sorceress. Fujin sighed, shoulders relaxed as a genuine grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, relishing the warmth of happiness in his chest when you joked around with him and made a playful mock.
"Fujin, where is Liu Kang; I'm sure I've worried him sick." You chuckled and only heard him laugh and brush it off lightly, leaning over the rail at the end of the bed.
"Don't worry yourself with Liu Kang," Fujin teased and continued, his voice was somewhat gentler when he spoke, not wanting to set you off.
"Well, I would love to get out of the medical wing and see how our champions are doing, I'm sure Johnny is trying to weave a fantastical story about 'almost saving me' before you showed up haha." You laughed at that remark.
"Yeah, Johnny seems to like telling that story to anyone who would listen."
The laughter echoed in the large bedroom area, soon fading as Fujin gave a weary smile, letting the brief moment settle in the silence, eventually speaking up and breaking it with an amused tone of voice,
"Okay. You need help?" Fujin says.
"Probably." you laugh. You carefully throw the blanket off yourself, sliding yourself forward with the help of Raiden and Fujin. Both had their hand firmly gripping your hand, and your shoulders, but Fujin grabbed your elbow and shoulder concerned he'd hurt your wounded arm.
"Do you think this is wise?" The Wind god says, concern and worry etched on his face as he supports your left side.
"I'll die of boredom in here, Fujin. Do you truly wish to kill your sister with boredom?" You jest, leaning forward a bit with Fujin's support, hoping the banter would calm him down. Raiden smiled a bit behind his hat at that statement, seeing the exchange of dialogue. He smiled a bit and let a small hum slip from his lips at his younger brother's frustration. "Well, it would be a shame to see my only little sister bored."
"Good lets go then," you say as you slowly fight against your tired legs to move yourself to the door, you struggle and almost fall over, your muscles cramped from not using them in a while; thankfully, you're able to stand a little with both Raiden and Fujin there, not to mention both seem overly happy to be by your side, their energy warming and filling you with comfort and a sense of safety, feeling their concern through the bond. It's an unusual sight for Fujin. Fujin groans out, mostly in amusement, shaking his head at his brother, who still grasps your side with a firm grip.
"Are you sure you are fine?" Raiden said.
"Yeah, but could you loosen up your hold a bit," You giggled, watching as the Thunder God's face looked horrified he could be hurting your already sore body. Raiden loosens up.
"Better?" He mumbles under his breath.
"Yep." you nod and lean forward, getting close to Fujin, Raiden moving his grip to support you around the waist. Fujin has a stressed look on his face. The walk is slow and painful but eventually, you reach the doors that lead to the lounge area for Earthrealm's champions.
Both men don't bother knocking.
All chatter silences, all eyes land on you. "I'm back from the dead, you can't get rid of me yet," you exclaim, laughing, and everyone joins in with laughter too. Shouts and hollering begin and soon they rush over. Liu was the fastest.
"Hey Liu, I hope I didn't worry you too much."
"When they wouldn't let anyone see you, I almost kicked the door down," Liu sighed in relief, a soft smile on his face.
"They wouldn't let anyone see me? Was it because I passed out?" You wonder out loud. You are leaning into Fujin's side, whose hand rests gently on your injured arm, which is held tight against your torso to try and alleviate any unnecessary pain from aggravating the muscle. Liu has a sheepish expression on his face.
"Probably yes, we all were about to have dinner, are you hungry?"
Johnny and Sonya had made it to your side by then; Jax not far behind the two, making their way to you as if checking that you really were awake. Kung Lao had kept to Liu Kang's side. They all quickly start to fuss about you, but Fujin brushes them off with a few short quips about you having a rough recovery and should remain on the bench for the rest of the tournament only fighting if absolutely necessary. This was not enough to curb Sonya or Johnny from constantly asking questions such as:
"How did they even injure you that badly, like you just won against Baraka so why did this happen?"
"I got a little careless more than likely, Baraka hits like a son of a bitch, and those blades were as sharp and quick as lightning, it is quite fortunate you guys don't need to go against Baraka in a one-on-one match," you said, shivering lightly, remembering just how strong the Tarkatans are. Liu Kang's warm palm touches your uninjured arm in an attempt to ease your discomfort.
"But enough about my wounds, I'm shrivelling up to nothing but bones; I'm starving." They laugh at the joke as you beam excitedly and are ready to walk toward the lounge tables, where you assumed there would be some food set up since the last tournament. Liu Kang stayed next to your right, always in earshot as if afraid of leaving you out of his sight; you might fall and reopen your wounds again. After several minutes of walking along and passing a few fighters from different realms and conversing with Kung Lao and the others in regard to the tournament and a few matches, Fujin and Raiden went on their separate ways; no doubt busy with dealing with things beyond your current capabilities. Soon Liu was beside you once more, this time taking Fujin's role of supporting you. Your body is slowly able to handle the ache and pain better with each breath and movement, and even with the injuries, you're healing at an extraordinary rate. You think. The muscles and skin repair and the burns leave your flesh covered in small and large pink and white scars. But for all the strength you feel, it does nothing for the exhaustion and hunger weighing on you. The group finds themselves sitting and mulling around near the dining tables, most are quiet in their conversations, some talk among each other, while others converse in a lower tone with themselves. The table where everyone sits is near the windows looking out towards the beach.
You sit next to Cassie, with Sonya next to her and the men gathered to your other side. Cassie keeps asking if you're going to be okay and telling stories of the aftermath and how the rest of yesterday's matches went. Johnny, was the last one to join the table, and he immediately launched into an explanation.
Johnny's arms were in the air and swinging with vigour, "I was in the last match of the day against Shang Tsung," he starts, looking excited. Johnny continues to rattle off details and interject with his dramatic movements and wild-looking hand motions as he continues, his eyes wide open. You nodded, silently listening, as the rest of the group rolled their eyes. You laughed and propped an elbow onto the table, watching as Johnny and Jax argued about details. You turned towards Cassie as she mentioned something that you hadn't expected.
"So while you were unconscious Quan Chi came looking for you~" she cooed as if trying to get some kind of answer for the rumour about you and Quan Chi having a thing for one another.
"He came to make sure my wounds were being taken care of,"
"No, Mom said that he was asking where you were as if he cared about you; is there anything else we should know about you and that weird fucker." Her eyes bore into yours with such curiosity and excitement as if you have a forbidden secret. The slight exasperation that reached you, alongside the idea that you would want anything to do with him.
"Like hell that creepy son of a bitch cares about me, He probably wants to gut me like a fish." You laugh and gently sip the wine glass of water, wiping your mouth. Sonya is half-smiling and watching you out of the corner of her eye; her shoulders are tensed, and there is a sudden tenseness between you and the young woman as Sonya asks a question you're not prepared to answer:
"And if Quan Chi found you here, why didn't you go back to your room?" You knew what she implied, and Cassie obviously did too.
"I'd gut punch him. Make him eat dirt," You're trying your best to hide the shudder that runs down your spine, you refuse to let your attraction to him put you in danger no matter what.
"Why do you ask Sony?" Her gaze pierces through your heart; the worry is palpable. She's not sure about what you and Quan have going on either, but if it involves Quan Chi, then you need to tread carefully.
"I don't trust him," she starts slowly, glancing over to you as her expression softens at what she sees, noting that your eyes are shining brightly and the light catches in your lashes, your hair shines with radiance despite the messy hairstyle.
"You're sweet (Y/N), and nice... You don't want any drama," she sighs, looking like she doesn't trust her judgment or even her own words right now.
"Sony, if I find out Quan Chi is planning something against me or Earthrealm, he'll get one thing, my boot crushing his groin," You're smiling; it is not pleasant, and Cassie smiles like she would like to do the same. She definitely gets that from her mother. You stop your glaring, hoping they accept it. The group murmurs around you and begins to make plans for tonight and how they will fight tomorrow with you on the sidelines.
"I've had my fill for the night I think I'm going to head to my room, I'm glad to see all of you in good spirits; goodnight." A small round of cheers and farewells, and some teasing comments on you going to go find your 'lover boy,' even though you really were exhausted from using so much magic earlier, leaving a drain on you still, so it was hard to put up with being teased like this. You still thought it was worth seeing the way Johnny looked flabbergasted with Sonya smirking at him. There was no need to explain the complex relationship you and Quan Chi were developing.
On your way back from the lounge, you sneak out to the garden to enjoy the night air. This late at night, the courtyard has very little activity. There are a few small sounds here and there, birds chirping or insects calling out to the others. With how dark it is, the torches give off a beautiful glow to the stone pathways. The warm lighting reveals an array of flowerbeds scattered around, some of them in colourful clusters. As you make your way over the stepping stones laid in an uneven pattern, you turn a corner. In the middle of the courtyard, where it's surrounded by pillars on three sides, is the Koi pond with benches nearby, you smile at how the moonlight creates rippling shadows on its crystal surface, which makes it shine bright and sparkle as if the night was not so dark but alit with stars, though the moon remains untouched by it. A rustling of bushes startles you before you relax after realizing the source is another. It's Quan Chi, of course coming to bother you while you try and enjoy the peace. You know this could be dangerous if you get under his skin like usual, your wounds won't make defending yourself easy if it comes down to that.
He sighs when he notices you're staring and stops. "(Y/N)." His voice is more sombre, not the usual sarcastic or bored response when you two go at it. He's giving you a clear opportunity to defend yourself, knowing how dangerous this could be if he messes with you in the wrong mood, knowing the circumstances you were already dealing with; wounds and such.
"Quan Chi." You calmly turn away from him, facing the koi pond. You focus on the small, black shadow that is drifting near the surface. The grass shifts under him with each step, his footsteps soft but not quite silent.
"Stoic as ever." He comments. It almost makes you chuckle. It was somewhat funny that the words meant for you seemed to hit him too because Quan seemed genuinely puzzled. He sounds hesitant now, not so sure why the conversation might go this way. The air is calm, almost awkward now with you avoiding his eye contact. "Well," you let out a snicker. "Someone has to be."
It's silent again. This time the pause is a lot longer, not as comfortable, nor as relaxed like before.
"What do you want this time Quan Chi?"
There was no answer. You could hear him take a deep breath, followed by his feet scuffing against the ground. In a matter of seconds, he had moved close enough to where his presence was felt. Even his movements were hesitant and slow like he knew the mistake would come with consequences. Without a warning, his hand reached forward to brush a stray lock behind your ear.
"What are you doing? Why are you acting so... gentle?"
Quan Chi's movements seemed to stop immediately after. Even the night was silent. He takes a small breath as though he were thinking, maybe the words wouldn't come, but his movements showed otherwise.
"Wait... Don't tell me. You were worried about me yesterday when I almost fainted in front of you and my brothers from my blood loss. Cassie told me you were looking for me..." you tease. Quan Chi gives no reaction save a low chuckle before lifting himself to place himself close to you on the bench, one knee bracing the space left. The breath he inhales seems sharper, catching itself for just a moment, and the silence lingers there between you both for a moment until it shatters when he takes your wounded hand in his palm, rubbing the top.
The feeling of your soft skin is strange under his touch. For a moment, it is peaceful before he answers your teasing accusation.
"So maybe, I may have been a little...concerned." You chuckle, breaking the tension, as Quan Chi rolls his eyes playfully and tries to be gentle and avoid the bandaged part.
"Why would you be concerned? When all we do is get under each other's skin unless you enjoy me getting under your skin." Quan Chi tenses, almost visibly shocked for a moment at your sly remark, not knowing if you were serious or joking. "You have a death wish; (Y/N)"
"I don't, but your face looks oh-so-handsome when you're red and upset," you tease him, he groans but the soft expression he gives tells you he enjoys it. He looks amused.
Quan Chi looks away for a few moments like he is embarrassed. As the silence between you returned, it was his turn to change the topic back, curious.
"They finally let you out."
"I went unconscious as soon as I was placed on one of the medical cots, too much blood loss." You nod toward the bandaged arm. He stays quiet for a bit, looking back at your hands and tracing over the old wounds. The first time that the sorcerer had touched you so intimately like this, he was usually holding or throwing you in his rage; this was different, this was calm, the opposite of anything he is used to. His touch is cautious and slow as he drags his fingertips over your bandage, carefully testing the areas not covered and seeing which ones make you flinch. You want to toy with him by flinching and saying 'ow' but this moment seems like something you may never see again if you do. Quan Chi hums before returning to where he started and resting his hand over the wound, thumb making gentle circles along the edge. His next words are cautious, and there seems to be concern. You cannot tell if Quan Chi feels something real or wants something from you, yet it matters little at this point.
"Will they heal quickly, and you can continue to fight?" He seems genuine when asking the question.
"I overworked my powers trying to fix my wounds on my own. After being patched up I was told I'm sidelined," You sigh, holding your arms carefully. You'll feel the effects of magic drain for several weeks. He hums and nods, lost in thought for a few moments, his thoughts focusing more on your well-being. "What are you thinking Quan?" His eyebrow arches when you use a shorter version of his name.
"What to do with you now~." He grins mischievously.
"Excuse me, I'm wounded, Quan" he laughs as he looks to the side with his smile reaching his eyes.
Quan Chi had been gentle with you, though not having let go of your wrist, now moving your hand upwards to his mouth to kiss the scarred knuckles, careful and slow, sending waves of heat all through your body. This wasn't the Quan Chi that everyone else knew.
"What has gotten into you lately Quan? Your arrogance was expected, your anger even, but this gentleness? Caring? Your eyes look into mine, and I see something deep beneath them that was not there before." You whisper, eyes searching his features, admiring how relaxed he is with you. Quan Chi frowns, looking more vulnerable and fragile as he leans further towards you, face inches from yours. The wind blowing the petals of a nearby tree catches his attention; his gaze settles, but he never speaks. "Are you trying to avoid my question?" you murmur. His eyes snap back, his throat working as if he has to force himself to swallow before answering.
"Quan Chi? Speechless?" you chuckle, trying to keep things light-hearted.
Quan Chi lowers his eyes again; it's hard to know if he is embarrassed or not. "Your... feelings about me," Quan says, more serious than he had been during this encounter, more careful about his word choice. This feels like another territory to both of you. Quan Chi sighs heavily when your face drops slightly. He looks away, huffing a sound akin to frustration; it seems more directed towards himself than to you. He slides your injured wrist out of his grasp, cupping one of your hands in his again, you watch how his hands envelop yours. You place your free hand on his chest feeling how fast his cold heart beats faster under your touch.
He stiffens in surprise. Your gaze flits back up to his own, meeting his eyes, noting that he holds it for just a moment before flickering back down. If he wanted, Quan could kiss you in a heartbeat, and the feeling of butterflies in the pit of your stomach would become intense and sudden. As though this moment in time was frozen, it had only been mere moments. As the distance between you narrowed, his nose brushed yours. "Quan Chi? Your heartbeat is erratic."
"Is that so," he breathes out shakily, his eyelids lowering. His heartbeats feel like it could beat out and into your hand.
"Do I make you nervous, Quan?" you ask in a half-teasing, half-innocent way, eyes locking with his and wondering what those feelings meant, the desire in his expression.
He swallows a hard lump and looks away. "No." Quan Chi sighs quietly, closing his eyes for a few heartbeats, pulling you close. His forehead drops to yours and his eyes are staring into yours.
"Hmmm? Then do I make you angry?" your voice is low and quieter. He smiles before breathing out a chuckle. "Oh yes. You drive me insane." It is not said unkindly, almost playful but deeper, with a hint of genuine honesty in his tone. His hand raises to your chin to hold it, he rubs the pad of his thumb over the cupid's bow of your upper lip and then down onto the bottom one. Your skin prickles, goosebumps spreading across your skin from the cold, or anticipation, and your breathing turns shaky with nerves. Quan Chi leans his face in, taking the lead now, his nose softly touching the end of yours. Your body stiffens up at the unexpected proximity of his lips. They ghost over yours, the soft skin a mere centimetre away. He leans away as much as you would allow, barely a finger-length between your noses, watching you to see if you'll pull away or protest.
"Thing is," Quan Chi starts in a whisper. He glances back to your lips then quickly your eyes, and once again your mouth as though he can't decide. "Yes?" your reply is more breath than a word, both of you now wrapped in the moment, savouring the suspenseful anticipation, enjoying it, unable to do anything. Your legs had turned weak by the tension now building between you. Your body aches, you want more than just words. You try to avoid the growing heat in your body and his lingering touches.
"The real danger between us is in our unresolved feelings for each other." It is your turn to blush, which causes him to smile in that sly and proud way, and then he chuckles softly as he thinks of something.
"Well?" You tease. He rolls his eyes before opening his mouth to talk. "Ah yes, and I do enjoy how you annoy and test me. When I do not want to kill you, then I'm thinking about you being-" The final part of his confession gets caught in his throat.
"Being, what exactly?" you ask teasingly, biting the edge of your bottom lip. A pleasant smile curves his mouth as he turns back. The sorcerer doesn't even try to hide the smirk on his face, looking like he's the cat that got the cream. Quan Chi's pupils have dilated. Your mind begins to race with many thoughts.
"About you being mine," He murmurs, looking into your eyes. And the two of you stay close, his nose brushing against yours in an affectionate manner as he cradles your face so gently in his hand. "Even with us bickering constantly, you're all that's on my mind these days. To say it is frustrating would be an understatement; my dear."
"Are you admitting your feelings, Quan Chi?" you smile, eyes meeting his, seeing the adoration he has for you; it feels more genuine than you had expected, seeing past his callous nature, how it shows on his face and behind those deep crimson orbs, a light blush appearing. His smile looks sweet, a side of him only reserved for you now, and the dark tone in his voice had softened, a confession in its own right. "As much as I have come to enjoy you being in my presence, your being bothersome and teasing, I admit... I... love you, (Y/N)"
Eyes widened in shock before you feel yourself laughing, giddily, your mind running through so many memories in an instant; of his calm, irritated glare whenever you poke fun at him, even when you tease him relentlessly; or when you pout at him, and he growls in frustration because he can't stop staring and wondering what you're thinking when you laugh so beautifully. All the times he looks annoyed at you or finds you frustrating, secretly enjoying every moment that passes. You are about to confess when he gently cups your face in his hand, gently stroking your cheekbone with his thumb, his breathing somewhat irregular. "What are you doing to me, little mage? You enchant me," Quan Chi whispers, his expression now softer and more vulnerable.
This feels so surreal, nothing like you had imagined for months and now that the confession is out in the open, with a second of hesitation, you both share an emotion that had been bottled up and concealed, letting go of every ounce of restraint and move towards him, meeting halfway and giving Quan Chi a gentle, sweet, and affectionate kiss. You taste sweet wine, your nose filling with his smoky smell, as a pleasantly soft moan vibrates against your lips; all of these feelings overwhelm, and envelop you entirely, intoxicating you, unable to feel anything else. You let yourself kiss him deeply, moaning into his mouth with relief and happiness at knowing that the two of you wanted more than to push the limits of this feud. Begrudgingly you pull away to catch your breath and regain self-control, his face a gorgeous shade of red, while his breathing is erratic and slightly heavy. His eyes are clouded with longing as he steadies his breathing to whisper again; "Little mage," the way he says that so softly makes your toes curl and sends a shiver up your spine. His face shows surprise, amused and excited, intrigued by this.
Quan Chi looks into your eyes, unable to stop admiring them, his thoughts begin to drift. The man runs a hand through your hair, ruffling it slightly. He feels nervous like never before; now that the game has changed between the two of you. It's a shift in power. Now you two have to navigate this change and each other. The air felt cool and refreshing around you as you let everything sink in, smiling at each other, not wanting to break the serenity of the moment. "Shall we continue this inside?" his smirk comes back when he sees the blush returning. But all good things seem to be ruined as you hear fast footsteps and shouting. Liu Kang and Johnny; they must have seen you hadn't gone to your room and now went searching, probably suspecting you'd been captured or worse.
"They're worried, it'll be fine." You murmur against his lips, lingering with him a few moments longer before pulling away from him entirely, walking slowly towards the entrance of the garden. The man, being the egotistical person he was, raises a finger to tell you to stay. But the idea of the Earthrealmers finding him, vulnerable and a lot more flustered than normal, was less than favourable for him. Quan Chi grumbled quietly before walking back into the shadows, disappearing, making no trace or noise. You give him a glance before going to your Earthrealm friends, knowing you will have more conversations.
Liu's words catch up to you when you hear him calling you, not asking and more yelling; "There's (Y/N)!", you laugh to yourself and see their faces go from panic to relief. They exchange a small comment before rushing to your side.
"Shit. Where the hell did you go?" Johnny looks around for an answer.
"I wanted some fresh air, I didn't mean to scare you guys; again," You hold both of your hands up. You lie in part.
"We don't need you disappearing especially with your injuries," he comments, glaring at you.
"And most certainly with Quan Chi wandering around," Liu added. Both of them looked pretty tired, dark circles showing from stress or lack of sleep, which is probably why they panicked when you had not returned to your quarters.
"Understandable, but I am an adult capable of defending myself, regardless of my injuries," you sigh.
The men sighed, agreeing reluctantly before walking you back to your quarters. With an explanation made, and their worries abated, they left you alone once you were back.
The smile remained. There were too many feelings swimming in your head right now. First, you wanted to sit, calm your racing heart and the butterflies in your stomach, and take time to process this whole confession and all of the things that it entailed. A sudden knock on your door pulled you out of your thoughts and daydreaming. Your brow creased together as you looked towards the door. "Come in." you sighed. A large smile breaks on your face, your heartbeat quickening slightly.
"We still have so much to speak of," He murmured with his arms crossed and his eyebrow arched, staring at you.
"If you wanted to know, Quan, you only have to ask."
He frowned, mouthing your words quietly as he closed the door, walking to stand closer to you.
"It seems you have a penchant for driving me mad."
"It's a good thing you serve the Mad God then Quan Chi," the smug tone in your voice caused him to frown again.
"You are terrible," he mumbled, as the annoyance spread to his voice as well.
You laughed softly; "Sorry, sorry but you walked into that one. Anyways what did you need?" you smiled up at him, your body turning towards his, knees almost knocking with the way you leaned to get closer to him.
He gestured to the door that had been slammed shut and locked with a barrier of magic to keep the curious, but nosy, prying ears out. He wasn't very fond of the possibility that one of the others might enter unannounced and have to witness whatever was about to happen. You pat the spot next to you on your bed waiting for him to sit with you. The bed dips when he sits next to you, the black leather armour he wears showing off his muscular body. He turned his head to you, smirking, "Oh? Is this what you wanted to happen (Y/N)? Do tell, are we having more secret meetings?" he teased.
You hummed and shrugged, keeping the ball in his court. He looked over at you, with the smallest tint of pink across his cheeks, not one used to the shy feeling. You watched his fingers tapping against his crossed arms, his head leaning more towards yours, nose bumping the top of your head, "So?" he hummed, trying to get an answer out of you.
"Well," you smirked up at him, his eyebrow quirking with a small smile, "Since you have confessed that you have... feelings," you gave his shoulder a small nudge with a chuckle. "Maybe it is my turn to confess," you nudged him again before looking up and smirking, placing both hands on either side of his neck, watching how his eyes stared directly at your lips before looking at you once more. A hand crept up to your hip before wrapping its fingers around, applying small pressure to let you know he was not as unaffected as he would seem.
"I do adore you Quan Chi and will look forward to getting to know this side of you," you said sincerely.
A half-smile quirked on his lips as he stared back up into your eyes, he sat there silently and watchful, seemingly lost in the thoughts going on in that devious mind of his. A quiet huff escaped your mouth with a grin, "Well? I expect a little something more than a smile." you tapped the side of his neck, wondering if any spots made him more vulnerable to the teasing you'd do. His smile only grew as his head tilted to the side to get a better look. "You really should work on controlling that pride Quan Chi,"
"You, and I both know that isn't a viable option," the smile in his eyes was warm like the fires of Neatherrealm. He lets out a deep sigh, resting his head against yours, closing his eyes, your foreheads now touching. You giggled lightly at him; his reaction was unexpected, although perhaps it was the fatigue setting in after today's battle and events.
"You look tired Quan Chi," you place both hands on either side of his head, massaging his temples and rubbing circles there until you see his eyes close, feeling your fingers touch and kneed softly. The way his breathing had calmed and slowed let you know he was not particularly tense before his hands settled back into a more neutral position. When you stop the massaging, you hear him take in a deep breath and hum contentedly. Quietly he whispers something to himself, it was too low to be audible enough for you, before speaking louder and directly to you; "You may not realise the effect you have (Y/N), and how utterly-"
A knock rattles the door and you pull apart to avoid any suspicions of the others as they yell for you. You quickly look towards the door and then back at Quan Chi eyes wide. Without a word he made a small portal to quickly leave the room, slipping through easily. You run to the door to unlock it.
The door bursts open as it is yanked away from its position on the wall. Kung Lao stares back at you with a sigh and relieved smile, "Finally." his tone is not as lively as it normally is.
"Why do you have to break my door, I'm injured I move slowly Kung!" you sigh, with the realisation that your ribs will make life difficult for a few weeks. "Can I not have one night of peace and quiet," you add with a groan, "is that too much to ask for?". The warrior snorts; "What have I interrupted?" the laugh behind the question sounds exhausted, even with the tease of humour in his words.
You sigh heavily, "important sleep that I need. I'm surprised Fujin didn't get you for coming to disturb me," You laugh as Kung Lao shoots his hand up into a thumbs-up.
Kung Lao puffs out a quiet laugh before fixing the door and giving you a tired smile, "sleep well. I am sorry for ruining your important sleep." You both share a smile before the monk turns, walking down the hallway to his quarters. You slink back into your room shutting and locking the door to enjoy your newly obtained peacefulness. You sighed again, crawling under the covers and resting on the mattress, knowing your ribs would hurt but needing sleep to process and recuperate. Before your eyes could close, your sight got fuzzy, your hearing was distant and there was the sound of something crackling, reminding you of fire, and something smelled of fire. You must have fallen asleep with the window still open... the scent reminded you of Quan Chi. As much as the smell annoyed you, it gave you comfort too; a reminder of the hours spent chatting, fighting, or teasing away with him, or the hours you would be bickering with each other and having no chance to rest because he was determined to win whatever disagreement was going. Even his arrogance was something you had grown accustomed to and you adored him for that reason and many more. You opened an eye, too tired to feel annoyed or scared of something catching on fire, just tired enough to wonder what it was. You felt the bed dip next to you laying form, the smell growing slightly stronger, a warmth filling the space next to you. You feel a hand brush across your cheek cupping it softly; "Sleep my dear, you have earned a rest, but do be careful to not ruin that perfect little face of yours,"
You snorted and tried to laugh but instead groaned. "When did you get back in here? Can't say I am surprised." A smile etched itself onto his face as you chuckled at how he always seemed to be one step ahead of you. This wasn't something you were completely aware of, but it wasn't going to stop you. You hear the sorcerer scoff and snicker as he watches your reaction.
He retracts the hand from your cheek and scoots closer to you, the blanket settling between the two of you; the feeling of warmth is nice, he was practically radiating heat and now being surrounded by it was oddly comforting. Quan Chi mumbles quietly in the tone you recognise, as one that speaks from the soul, the soft side he lets no one see except for you;
"I assure you I have never let my guard down. You cannot blame me for my devotion."
You stare back into his deep crimson eyes. His features were defined yet soft, the mischievous glimmer always shining; he was stunning, even to your fatigued state, and you had always secretly admired his attractive looks. A sweet, teasing laugh escapes your mouth and a grin plasters itself onto your face;
It seems for a second his composure cracked slightly, revealing a tint of red across his cheeks and his eyelids batting as the compliment goes to his head. He opened his mouth before shaking his head and looking away, "Flattery, will get you nowhere." he spoke with a sigh, rolling his eyes, smiling as he returned his gaze to you as you fought your eyes and exhaustion to stay awake. He rubbed your cheek with the thumb as you fluttered your eyelashes open, smiling. His stare softens and he lays down with his forehead close to yours and places a hand on your hip, pulling you closer towards him.
Your breaths began to slow and your body relaxed into his, smiling lightly at the feeling. You fought the urge to let your eyes close and tried to say what had come to mind, even if your voice was barely above a whisper as you fell into your sleep, not knowing of his growing affection and admiration for you.
"Goodnight Quan Chi," you whisper as you finally give in to your exhaustion and sleep, your arm slowly snaking around his waist.
Quan Chi presses a soft and sweet kiss to your nose, looking over your relaxed, resting body. You're exhausted and the battle has been rough. His eyes widened as you unexpectedly hugged him. He knew what you said to him but thought to have misunderstood what you had uttered. A sweet, warm feeling was spreading, the tint of colour not disappearing from his cheeks. He was glad it was dark, so he could hide this slightly exposed side of himself, his brow creasing together and pursing his lips, slightly embarrassed that you managed to bring out this side of himself. After he collected his thoughts, Quan Chi huffed to himself, chuckling as he watched your face shift in your sleep. The man pushed some strands of stray hair out of your face.
"My little mage," He paused, placing a small kiss on the crown of your forehead; "Sweet dreams," his smile is slight, small with his hidden amusement, but real, a fluttering joy he hasn't felt in years.
Perhaps his old feelings hadn't faded as he expected, no, rather he wanted to see how far these blossoming emotions went. It took no time for his exhaustion to catch up, pulling him under the embrace of sleep as he lay beside you. He welcomed the lull that sleep brought, which soon overcame him.
Waking up with an unpleasant numbness was nothing new. But the strange weight across your abdomen made you raise a brow, pulling away, staring down into the resting face of the sorcerer. His hand remained placed on you. His position looked uncomfortable and awkward, making you shake your head and let out a small amused snort. His arm, hanging over your mid-section, moved, the muscles twitching as his fist flexed, trying to keep you close. In the night his form had shifted; he looked softer without the stoic attitude he held in front of others and you would have to tell him about the facial expression he wore when sleeping because you couldn't believe he ever looked so peaceful when sleeping.
You shook him a few more times with your hand in a playful gesture to wake him, hearing a groan come from his throat as you laugh softly. Eventually, he stirred, stretching out, yawning and sighing as his eyes blinked open, turning to face you. The first words to escape were muffled and sluggish, but he noticed your eyes widening and then snickering with a raised brow, which caused him to scowl.
He glanced over the amused look on your face, then at his body, and then he turned scarlet red; the realisation dawning upon his flustered expression. Quan's brow creased. He snatched his hand off your abdomen, running the other over his bald tattooed head with an unamused, unsatisfied groan. The flustered, embarrassed, side of him was not ready or used to showing this side, even for you. So you got the rare occurrence of seeing the man taken by surprise; he didn't exactly want you to find this so amusing.
You pat his back, smirking and giggling; he glares at the playful smack to his arm.
"Sorry I don't make a good pillow Quan Chi," you tease as a cheeky grin crosses your face.
"Clearly," his gruff answer snaps as he stretches his neck and back, multiple loud pops heard from his stiff joints. He snickers and mutters quietly to himself, crossing his arms and sinking slightly in his spot, his smirk forming, a satisfied, content noise escaping. You let out a hearty laugh at his lack of desire to get out of bed, seeing as it had been a while since you slept through the night without waking up.
"Just so you know, you did look pretty peaceful while you were asleep... Even if it wasn't the best position to sleep in."
A quiet "hmmph" escaped Quan Chi as you patted his shoulder, smirking up at you as his features returned to their normal cocky demeanour.
"You had such a babyish look while you slept." You add as you giggle softly, shaking your head.
His mouth fell open, looking like a deer caught in headlights, his cheeks had a slight pinkish shade, as if he had just gotten slapped or something.
"Do you intend to tell the whole realm of this incident or shall we keep it just between us two?"
"And lose seeing such a sight again? Never, I prefer to keep that for my viewing only," a flirty tone added to your answer.
His smirk grew. He slid closer to you again, laying down next to you and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck as you stared back down at him. His hairless face was smooth against the crook of your skin and he nuzzled the top of his nose against the tip of your ear and moved closer to whisper in your ear;
"Mine." The soft growl behind his word was light-hearted but sincere. The smile forming on his lips wasn't present, but you knew the tone well and smiled.
A grin, one of great enjoyment, appeared on his face before turning to one more amused with his little snickering laughs.
"Get out of my bed." You laugh.
It was your turn to push him out, starting to stretch your sore ribs and body, seeing him lean his back against the bed with an overly dramatic sigh, rolling his head to look back at you. His eyes flicker towards the bruises and his smirk grows as his fingers run over them.
"Ow ow!" You wince, your ribs still tingling and sore; a quiet hissing coming from you as he lifted your shirt slightly, pressing on it a little.
His eyes shone with amusement as he watched your expression change to one of discomfort, and your facial features pull in as your body rejected the poking at the still raw injury. It had gone an ugly black, blue, and yellowish hue around it. You scowled back at him and pulled your shirt back down with a small humph.
He snorted and slid out of your bed, fixing his robes and glancing down at himself.
"You stick your finger into my bruises or wounds again and you won't have any fingers left," you groan as you stand fighting your tense ribs trying to relax your pain filled breathing.
His eyebrows shoot up, his teeth bite his lip, with an almost lustful look in his eyes.
"That would be no fun at all, and how else would I watch you make that stupid face when I tease and prod at you," Quan Chi replies smugly, you wave him off with a glare.
"Don't make me open my door and call for one of my champions," you tease back, grinning over at him as he lets out a disappointed huff.
He shakes his head with a laugh, opening a portal back to his room, and smiles as he walks towards it.
"By the way Quan Chi," You yell out playfully, smiling smugly.
His steps stop, with him halfway through the portal already, glancing back at you, a bemused look upon his face. You flash him a cheeky smile.
"Last night was nice, hope we can make it a recurring thing" you teased as he vanished into the swirling vortex. You let out a laugh at the shocked expression.
Your energy felt lighter, as your soul felt so, your aches and pains became a background throb. Perhaps last night was what you both needed after everything. Sleeping so peacefully wasn't something you experienced, often.
Changing from your dirty attire and making your room presentable again, you finally exited your bedroom door and sighed contently, making your way downstairs to meet with the others for a much-needed breakfast. You went about your usual day, until something unexpected happened, when you were sitting reading books while watching Johnny, Liu Kang, and Kung Lao training in front of you in the sparring arena.
When a hand landed on your shoulder, patting it and removing as you turned to look up, surprised as ever, to see the being who interrupted your moment. The other three were equally surprised; Sonya. She approached you from behind without a word, her posture tense.
"Oh Sonya! How are you, is everything alright?"
You stand up, brows knitted together in concern. Sonya runs her hand over her face, massaging her temple, trying her best to not pace, or rip her hair out as her fist curls, teeth biting hard on her tongue. The guys figured it would be best to walk deeper into the arena to hide from her possible anger. The ex-cadet let out a frustrated and angry sound;
"So let's cut to the chase and cut out the formalities."
She let the sentence fall from her lips, a low hissing to her words, frustration lingering like an infected wound; her nostrils flared with irritation. You took a step forward, now standing at eye level as her stance was on edge, arms across her chest and jaw tensing, as though she were grinding her teeth. She points a finger at you, her face heating and becoming scarlet as the skin tightens with the overwhelming tension that poured off her; her teeth grit tight as she spits out a growl,
"Listen. I don't know what you have going on with him, and honestly, right now, I don't give a damn. As a part of the tournament's special guests," you gave the ex-general an alarmed glance, "you are not to be harmed during the Tournament or outside it. And there was some argument between the others and myself," She rolled her eyes, thinking about her exasperating situation,
"I'll get straight to the point, I know the relationship you have with Quan Chi, I had one like that when I was younger. You are lucky he hasn't killed you yet." Sonya sighs and sits herself next to you and you wonder if this might be her way to release anger. You mauled over her words for a moment before speaking.
"How do you know about it? About Quan Chi and I?" You questioned, worry laced into your tone as she shot a sympathetic look.
She stares at you, a flat expression forming on her face and raises a brow before rubbing her hands together. Sonya takes a deep breath and inhales sharply. Her nostrils flare before she groans;
"He came looking for you when you were injured remember?" Sonya tells you, her gaze locked with yours. Your mind started thinking fast, thoughts going faster than words, and then you stopped as memories flooded back to that day and night. Your heart hammered hard in your chest and your face was dusted a scarlet red, that moment when he had kissed you resurfacing again, and then she kept on going, like a knife digging in further;
"I get it, maybe you're just trying to use him to our advantage, or toy with him. But be careful, he's dangerous," Sonya warned and you felt her tone change as you nodded. You felt like you had been slapped or stabbed, or burned somehow by her words, the meaning clear, "I'll talk to Raiden if anything, and I just want you to be safe, or try, rather." She stares at you, with those concerned eyes, like that of a mother's, and her voice cracks slightly.
She placed a comforting hand on your shoulder and rubbed. You can see that concerned mom in her even if she tries to not let it bubble to the surface, the slight creases on the corners of her mouth tugging slightly into a frown, and how her gaze seems sad and soft, despite the steel blue glimmer of her eyes. The woman wanted to look out for you;
"Thank you, Sonya, I'll be careful. You know I will." You smile softly up at the General.
"How long have you known for?" Your voice is barely audible above a whisper and her facial expression shifts, a genuine smile breaking onto her face, her eyebrows pulling up as a genuine glint flickers in her eyes. Sonya purses her lips in thought and smacks your arm in a gentle tap.
"I figured when you got back from the garden, the first time you went there. I don't know the reason why, or why I knew, or anything, it just felt right."
"You're... surprisingly not upset with the idea of the... possibility of me liking a man who has caused you pain and possibly could still be plotting against you?"
"Honestly? I am upset, but, just be careful. No one's trying to hate your life choice, because quite honestly, it could end up killing you."
Her voice held that sort of motherly sternness with an equally firm scolding; you stare at her.
"Okay, fair. Thank you, Sonya" you breathed as you pulled her into a tight embrace. You took a deep, stabilising breath, and exhaled again. The breeze washed over your skin as you closed your eyes, "And thank you again," a small smile breaks out over your face and she nods.
"I hope you can trust me, and you can speak to me. Please be smart about this, it's your life we're talking about." Sonya spoke once again, a warmth in her eyes and her voice, a motherly love.
"I will. Just don't mom it up too much, Sony." You lightly joke to help lighten the atmosphere.
She laughs and stands up, smoothing the front of her fatigues. She gave a lazy wave goodbye and took a few steps away from your form before pausing, you hear her boots spin,
"But it does make me want to kill Quan Chi a tad bit more. He has an ounce of humanity after all. And it might be funny to watch his reaction. But if he even vaguely threatens you he's a dead man."
With that last threat, Sonya turned and marched out to the training ring.
You decided that just sitting and watching them train won't help you. A walk might help clear your mind, and decide how you could possibly even talk to Quan Chi about all of this; you two.
Standing, you pushed your back, leaning backwards, cracking your spine with a loud satisfying pop and grinned to yourself, feeling how your wounds seemed to stretch, the medications and healing from Fujin and Raiden already doing a great deal for you. Walking slowly was not fun, and definitely didn't help ease the thoughts that were pounding around in your brain. But the scenery, the natural peace around the place, even made you pause.
How could someone so untrustworthy seem so trustworthy at the same time? Could he really have good in him?
What was his true plan? Could you even have him without consequences, you wouldn't go against your friends would you? Your anxiety threatened to turn and twist your guts into painful knots; and for what you knew about Quan, that would happen whether he wanted or not.
What he was was an enigma, no matter how well you knew him, you never would truly know him and you didn't want to try. It was an idea that got stuck in your head like a nail, sharp and jagged, with rust to complete the effect of ripping into your side. Or a brain worm. A parasite of a thought that wouldn't go away, wouldn't leave until it got its desired effect.
Taking a deep breath and focusing on the breeze gently pushing you. You needed something to distract yourself, you were nervous. Why do you feel so anxious? Are you concerned the rest of your Earthrealm friends will shun you or just leave you to a power-hungry wolf of a man like Quan Chi? Are you scared he'll kill you and turn you into a mindless revenant for his own entertainment? Make you a little pawn he can use however he wishes? That he might betray this trust you foolishly are giving him? That he might just be using you to destroy Earthrealm?
You take in a sharp inhale, your anxiety takes over, your hands shake you, your vision blurred with tears fighting to form, your heart thumps in your throat, and your breath feels short. You grip onto the rails of a bridge you had unconsciously walked onto. You lean forward watching the water below with Koi fish swimming peacefully unaware of your state. You hate that you know it's an anxiety attack, your coping mechanisms failing you.
It has been a while since you've had one of these and your body is doing anything but help the process. Everything hurt and yet, you felt numb. Nothing to bring you back down, nothing, you were left helpless again. You can't help but feel the tears spill from your eyes with soft whimpers and cries escaping you. The hiccup and sobbing and tears keep pouring down and you find yourself falling to your knees. You're sure this is only helping you spiral down further, the fear and anxiety pounding into you at once, the worry, and the stress. It was too overwhelming.
You can hear and feel your self-doubt and hateful thoughts come flooding back, no matter what you say to yourself it only seems to make it feel worse. The cold tightness in your chest slowly tingles to the surface. You hate that you've gotten into your own brain like this. It always seems so far to reach and grab onto anything to save yourself, drowning and not being able to swim back. It felt impossible. You felt you could drown in your own anxiety and not be able to save yourself; or save Earthrealm. You don't want to burden any of them with your fear or anxieties when they have too many of their own. This feels like this is your burden to bear.
The silent tears of worry, sadness, and of fear kept coming. Every worry. Everything. All the questions. You can't keep on top of your mental battle, it becomes too much as your breathing becomes sharp and quick, your face feels hot and flushed, your head pounding and making you cry harder, making a mess of yourself and your shirt, your hand clinging onto it and desperately trying to ground yourself. It's all you can think to do. It feels like you're hyperventilating or something. The peace of your surroundings feels overwhelming, you want to hide away from it and just try and breathe and calm down but it doesn't work and the tightness feels like it's crushing your insides. You refuse to let anyone see you in a state like this. They have more important things to worry about, and you'll just hold them back. You'll lose the trust you've worked so hard to gain.
Sucking in the best breaths you can through the sharp hiccups and sobs, the breaths seemingly fail you, not making it down, into the lungs they were needed in. You cry harder as you can't feel your chest rising the way it's supposed to. It hurt and throbs and everything was spinning. Your nerves were a flurry, a blaring mess. You can hear footsteps in the distance, or is it an auditory hallucination caused by your current state?
Everything was still in an uproar. It wouldn't be much longer till a panic attack started. And you feel like you've failed yourself and the others. You force yourself to walk, to find somewhere hidden to hide away from anyone and everyone. The shame washing over you. You don't want anyone seeing you like this. So weak, so emotional, so pathetic. No, the tears won't stop and so do your sniffling and your hand cannot catch the falling drops fast enough. You just want your suffering to end but not how your mind was leading you on. You just want this moment, this torture and suffering, to end. Your head still feels so cloudy, and fuzzy, that you can't stop the bad thoughts that flow through, you just need the comforting silence that will let you drown out the thoughts.
A river. The sound, a pleasant, calm one. Enough to drown your mind with as a temporary solution. Hopefully, the loud rushing sound will push the thoughts and concerns away, to drown out your inner voice. As your breathing still tries to pace itself back to normal, the rest of your body is just sluggish and feels useless. You see a small out-cove to side in, to hide from the outside world and give some privacy.
There you fall apart. You shake violently, a shell of a being. You scream and cry into the sounds of the rushing water, knowing your voice is drowned out by the water's fury. The calming soothing lullaby the waterfall creates seems almost comforting.
Now you're just left to sob and curl inwards. Now the only sounds to interrupt are your hiccups, soft cries and whimpers and the running waters that seem to want to envelop your sadness and drown the demons that tear at you. You just want peace, you want these anxiety-induced panics and thoughts to vanish permanently. You want to be stronger, you've proven yourself as a sorceress and fighter but you still feel weak for things like this, unable to control your own thoughts and feelings or even anxiety.
"What good am I?" you whisper out loud, trying to pull yourself to sit properly. You feel all over the place; in an awkward position. Feet together, knees close, torso crunched over, your eyes close as you feel your voice shake. Trying to pull yourself back from the edge you feel another wave of anxiety and a new wave of tears come. You try to control your breathing, trying to take control of yourself, but with shaky breaths with no steadiness, you find it rather hard to manage, the tears, the shaking, the panic and the pain that radiates through your chest. You just wish you'd fall asleep and not deal with it. To drift into darkness and peace. You sob, your body shuddering. It takes a long time. There's no clock. Your chest still feels as though the weight of an elephant has sat upon it, restricting your ability to take steady breaths.
Hiccups continue to break past your lips. Tears flood your eyes once more, threatening to fall as you open them. You close your eyes, and your shaky breath lets you sob freely once again. It's cathartic but simultaneously exhausting. This is all-consuming and the sensation leaves you drained and exhausted, your cheeks red, splotched and covered with a wet sheen of tears and saliva. With no other choice, you bury your head deeper into your arms as you hug them closer to your body. Your quiet cries remain muffled against the creases of your sleeve, and every exhale leaves your chest burning and aching for what feels like forever. The entire area feels damp, and your cheeks sticky.
You hiccup and then sniffled. What a sight to behold, or is it, since the sound of the running river could very well block out the noise. If only it could cleanse the pain of this. A long time passed, and the feelings still remain. You cry and cry your eyes burn as there are no more tears to shed. You choke. You cry some more. You can't believe the mess you are. The tremors start, a reminder that you've stayed crying for far too long, the aftershocks of your emotional outburst, the rapid beating of your heart, you're just a shell of yourself at the moment. A small light whimper escapes your lips and you struggle to stop crying. You're getting a headache and the fogginess won't let you gather your thoughts properly. You start hiccupping uncontrollably now, and your whole body shudders as a result.
And somehow, the pain worsens, growing into something terrifying. Your mind is swirling around with your emotions, too many emotions and none of them make sense, all blending in to confuse and destroy you. Your mind races with doubts, and a strong sense of worthlessness. Tears falling, never-ending. You just want it to be quiet. To make everything stop. Why won't it stop? You wish you were better, stronger, braver and yet, you're none of these. Your thoughts go a mile a minute. Nothing will ever stop. This feeling, it's dark, heavy, depressing and consuming, like you are trapped.
Trying to even your breathing you end up breathing in and out again with hiccups interrupting each breath. You're desperate for the painful tears to stop; to just calm down and figure things out. You focus on your breathing, and you hiccup, then sigh and breathe again as tears drip onto the grass underneath you. There's just the hiccups, the breathing and the sobbing. You hiccup, and sob, breathe and cry. Breathe and cry. And you just keep it up, as much as you possibly can. The panic keeps building up with nothing to channel it into, and nothing to calm you down. It was hard, this, this was hard. But it will pass, and it always does. Or will it? You can feel your thoughts rushing and worrying, screaming loudly towards the water again, a scream of agony and rage. Your pain. It took a long, agonising amount of time to finally stop the hiccups. And then another agonizing amount of time passed before your breathing was even close to calming down.
As your breath, and nerves slowed themselves down, so did the waterfall in the distance, almost mimicking how you had calmed yourself. When was the last time you had had a breakdown like this, or have cried hard enough it burned like a fire leaving you exhausted? You look down to the grass, as your heartbeat slowly returns to normal, but there is no colour returned to your cheeks. No glow, no light, no smile or a sense of happiness. Just an emotional exhaustion that's bled into physical exhaustion as well. It feels as if a strong wind could push you over but the worst part is the skull-splitting headache worming its way into your already worn-out skull and causing a deeper wave of nausea to run through you.
You rub your head, hands brushing your hair out of your face and placing it behind your ears. As you take in a breath, the soreness that came with all that crying hits you. Your eyes sting, your throat hurts and your mouth feels like it has sand stuck in it. Wiping the back of your mouth with a sleeve, you lean back against the moss-covered rocks that block you from view from anyone and everyone. Your lips twitch down in a frown as if an involuntary reaction to your internal woes. Taking in deep breaths and allowing them to travel in and out. The hiccups have all disappeared for sure. The sun was lower in the sky, not quite night but dusk approaching. You'd lost all sense of time and had no clue as to how long you'd been sitting here.
The time that passed you didn't know, or care, or even have the strength to do so. With this thought, it causes a harsh bitter laugh, more akin to a wheeze, to leave your lips, as watch the waters flow below, still flowing as a certain kind of peacefulness sets into it, a slow-moving tranquillity. Maybe, after your sudden storm of tears, this river and waterfall took comfort in your tears, maybe it felt they were needed as a soothing. Who knows?
The distant sound of boots crushing twigs and grass grows ever nearer and your brows knit together. Wiping the dried salty remnants and tears on your face. Sinking lower against the rocks desperate to not be seen in such a state. But the steps grow louder, the boots are much louder than yours. Someone's coming. You make no sound to give yourself away. For how long have you stayed here? You didn't know and it didn't matter to you. Now it was starting to get concerning. The heavy booted steps grew louder.
They got closer, almost right by where the sounds of the stream reached, you stayed still and closed your eyes tight. Perhaps whomever it was will walk past, leave you to collect and centre yourself. Perhaps, for a few hours, you'd lost your voice, not wanting to call for the person to pass, nor speak of why you were here. Your anxiety threatening to build. One footstep then two, four, six. And then a thud as a knee landed right by your side, you stay silent, frozen, refusing to look, knowing they'd spotted you in hiding, trying to find a sense of normality for a moment, yet they have not uttered a word, no more footsteps. They'd simply just watched.
"Please...go," you softly croaked out, refusing to look. It hurt to speak. How long have you gone without saying a word for the raw feeling that sits in your throat, you can taste your tears, the salt is potent and evermore apparent. Refusing to make eye contact. Who would want to look at anyone like this? The state that you are currently in.
But instead of the footfalls echoing away. They remain beside you. Whoever it is makes themselves comfortable in their chosen spot on the grass. So you don't open your eyes, pretending to still be resting them. A soft rustling comes from your left side. And an intake of breath was all that you could make out from them. You knew it wasn't one of the Earthrealmers or even one of your Lin Kuei friends. As the voice speaks.
"Your silence is telling..." and of course, it would be him that'd stumble on you. The man that had stolen your heart. It had to be him of all the people to find you. The last man on earth you wanted to witness this. He'd been one of the main sources of your sudden anxiety-riddled panic attack. And then silence fills the air. The last person, you could stand to show any weakness. Your throat feels so dry it burns, and your head pounds still with the residual ache of your violent cry. A memory that will have a firm place in your brain and you'd sooner rather bury. It doesn't help the dehydration. But you remain seated in your spot, eyes firmly shut and leaning against the large boulder and moss-ridden wall. Your sniffles sound so loud to you, in the quiet, with only the rushing water flowing, the calm ambience of nature with its animals. It's relaxing, but no silence ever truly existed. Not here.
He was close, his knee almost brushed your arm. The black linen trousers he'd donned, his body turned toward you as he knelt beside you. "Go away, please," you rasp out with your lips barely moving, head bowed, not looking his way. Your hand laid against the blades of grass. "I don't need to hear it, I already know I look weak," you spat in your low rough voice. Why he's stayed you don't understand. He should be glad, that you'd fallen apart and found out. Some weakling who should have stayed home and let Raiden and the other grown adults take charge, protect and save Earthrealm instead of you. All those thoughts were on a constant loop, taunting you, telling you exactly why you're not wanted.
"No," he answered curtly. You could feel his gaze bore into the side of your head and it felt like you were being scorched. A rather large, callused and surprisingly cool hand lifted and clasped itself around your chin as a thumb ran over the side of your jaw and cheek, you were quick to swat the affection away with the back of your wrist and hands and jerk your head further to your chest, almost shrinking in on yourself further, shoulders rolling forward, as you wanted nothing more than to hide in a hole in the ground and vanish from all life. You just couldn't bear it anymore. The anger of yourself, the ache in your heart. This feeling was sickening and unpleasant. It hurt in your soul, an ever-growing reminder that you're a failure to yourself. A broken woman. You wanted his touch so bad, it burned and ached, making everything a million times worse, as tears threatened to come and spill once more. "Please...please. Leave. I don't want you to see me like this..." The crack of your voice had given you away how close you were to crying again. Your bottom lip was being torn to shreds. Your bottom lip quivered in response to the bitter-tasting metallic blood as it filled your senses.
"Look at me." His voice was the calm before the storm and you knew that tone, you'd heard it. That deep tenor-esque growl. It sounded almost annoyed, frustrated and some type of concern. His gloved hand made its way to the side of your jaw as he nudged it upwards and your chin lifted as your head tilted toward the rocks. His crimson eyes gazed over you, studying the tired, broken expression on your face, his gaze soft, but the mirth he'd been searching for did not exist, it's now replaced with the pained grimace across the contours of his face. It hurt to know, to see, his gaze hardened a fraction as he studied you further, yet you remained, the hands clasped against his shoulder to push him away trembled. It felt shameful to be seen in such a broken moment.
You remained still, body freezing itself against the rock wall you were positioned, refusing to leave. A thumb grazing gently against the tear-streaked trails and you turn, breaking the hold, taking a ragged inhale. "I've no idea how long I've been in my own head...not how long I've been crying it feels," you admit quietly. You try to hide from his gaze in his hand desperate to not be perceived. Not to be seen. It was something akin to an attack, yet, there was a feeling in your gut that made you stay rooted. "Go away, Quan Chi...don't look at me," you force out, more defeated, and exhausted.
"I can't...I don't want to be seen like this," you whimper out as tears fight to leak from your sore eyes, your shoulders tremble and shake with the force of it, your breaths shaky, coming out in uneven puffs, his hand is still caressing your cheek. Why had he chosen to stay? Was he revelling in your misery? Was it a form of sick pleasure?
Quan's eyes soften again at your continued misery, something within you that'd been torn, broken and left to bleed freely, raw, painful. He loves to watch pain and misery but; this tasted bitter to him a pain that he should love and consume, and yet his mind won't give him what he seeks, no pleasure in seeing such turmoil and conflict. Not this time, nor can he find his normal amusement, seeing such intense pain in someone he's developed a rather deep fondness for. This wasn't a thing he was accustomed to dealing with, never mind witnessing. His hand lifts and begins stroking the top of your hairline and running through it, in a way, meant to soothe, you lean into his touch. Allowing your eyes to flutter close, he musters, "Look at me." It's a soft command but nonetheless, it is a command.
"I can't." You couldn't help how it came out in a sad little whimper, not really. An overwhelming urge to pull yourself tighter and tighten around yourself, like a spring about ready to snap or explode, you needed some support from yourself, and from him. Was it the cowardice way out? Yes. Absolutely, but it didn't change the facts and the very nature that he brought a great sense of comfort.
He didn't move to pry, he understood why you refused, how could you ever bear to look at him as weak and helpless like this? You look broken. Your spirit was beaten into submission, and he understood your discomfort. But he had questions and wanted answers, he refused to leave your side as your whole body trembled, barely keeping yourself upright. Even though his presence made this difficult, being alone, having to struggle out of the depths of misery. The tightness around your throat grows, burning as the pressure begins to build. Your fingers shake as he pulls away.
You bite down onto your bottom lip again, making it bleed once more and clench your fists until the nails dig crescent shapes into your arms. There was no sense, not like this, nor did your pain dissipate, or did the negative thoughts and feelings die out. They clung to you. The emotions were wild and didn't abide by your inner will, the internal storm was raging in full swing. The sharpness of the breaths you pulled in and tried to breathe out with a staggered noise. Your mind screams to flee or make him leave, it was almost like a flight or fight response. Anything to cope, or was it your instinct telling you to just run from the feeling altogether? It's impossible. Everything just swirls in circles of torment and fear, paranoia. Involuntarily, the muscles in your neck and throat tighten as you swallow, and a single hot tear rolls its way down the length of the cheek as if a silent plea for comfort or to be left alone to wallow in your misery.
In a rare display of gentleness, he moves his other arm around the back of your shoulders, his face slowly inclines lower as he lays it upon your head and brings you into him, guiding your head towards his chest, and presses his face into your hair, running a hand through the loose strands, hoping the closeness will bring you the comfort he can't provide with mere words, hopes it will offer solace. Your nerves settle, as you release the breath you'd been holding.
He felt familiar, the weight and shape of him, the way his hand stroked the side of your head and the one that was pressed up against your shoulder blades, a reassuring sign of closeness. It was a foreign gesture that yet again was making the tears prick your eyes again. His grip was tighter, almost protective as your breath quivered once again and your eyes grew warm as tears filled them once more, and another choked out. "Why won't it stop?" a shuddering plea left, as a tear managed to roll itself free. You weren't a crier, had prided yourself on rarely doing such things. Not in front of others, not out in the open, or even where you'd be easily seen. It was hard to recall the last time, you'd felt your insides split or crack, or the last time, you had cried or broken down and cried as harshly as today. Yet somehow the tears didn't come and fall and neither did you want the tears to appear again, you knew it had to be obvious, a sob managed to escape, the hot feeling that rolled down your face.
"Breathe," is all the word was as he keeps you held to him, the feeling of wetness leaking into the front of his clothes.
His hand soothes away at your hair, and his actions speak volumes louder, as your body continues to tremble with silent sobs. As his arms fold and keep you steady, his hand gives the nape of your neck a gentle caress, the tips of his fingers lightly tracing over the outline of each vertebra in an up-and-down movement, taking in each ridge, in slow languid patterns. Just as well that you can barely think, and you're numbly aware of his own hand as it rises up to brush the stray hairs out of your face, which in the process his hands cup your face. A tender press of his lips at the crown of your forehead, brushing the hair, stroking the hairs out of your face. The feeling of it is both a welcomed and torturous one, another stray tear runs down the other cheek.
For so long, he's wondered, thought to himself. Quan Chi wondered what was running in your brain, he should want to laugh and drink in these whimpers and cries, yet, they seem so vile coming from you, they taste foul when you're hurting and the thought of your suffering has become unbearable for the necromancer, it disturbs him but for reasons unbeknownst to him.
His thumb wipes the trail left and the skin becomes damp, the contact sending a shuddering jolt of feeling to run up the length of his spine, then it's quickly followed by a dull pulsing throb. Like a pinprick or an electrical current, an ache blooms forth in his chest. To see and hear the muffled whimpers was a feat. As his red-eyed stare holds. And yet, instead of revelling in the suffering he would normally savour, his arms wrap around you. His thumb traces the outline of your cheek, down your neckline, as his gaze softens. It was a minuscule action, but meaningful all the same. To know his touch and hold should do a great deal to ease you, and for the longest time, no words were spoken between you, but neither wanted to be the one to break away, to have to eventually let go, to acknowledge and embrace that your bubble of contentment, a space with no worry or outside issues must come to an end. A time when both of you could just exist.
As a hot puff of air leaves him. Fingers clasp under your chin, lifting and turning your face toward him. His intense gaze seemed softer now than it'd ever looked, red orbs that should look like a predator were docile, and his eyes studied the depths of you. Seeing the faint sadness reflected there. Before he spoke, his hand drifted back into the loose strands of your hair, and brushed the strands off your forehead, stroking and curling the strands around his fingers. In a barely audible tone, the baritone was smooth and velvety, almost whisper-like. But his eyes tell you a thousand words, the honesty, a feeling or momentary warmth that showed deep and softening into his own unique tender look. He uttered simply one word and nothing else. "Why."
"Why what?" Your voice was cracked and still sounded as you tried to regain composure, dry-eyed, face, and expression stern. Staring deep into him. "You may want to narrow that down somewhat," you try to joke knowing your sorrowful tone betrays you. He can hear the small shake and waver of uncertainty. The edges of your words still quivering, trying to regain normalcy. His head falls to yours, as your forehead presses to his. Your eyes close shut as the hand tightens against his and there is a small gentle pressure there.
A humourless chuckle rumbles low in his chest. A pleased grin graces his face, red eyes so dark they appear almost black, they glisten. "Why the tears...Why this sadness," a tinge of hesitancy comes through, as if uncertain about voicing his concerns and needs for an answer. You can hear a tremble, almost breathy and lost in emotion.
Another swipe of the hand against your jaw as a finger coaxed it, his arm outlining the back of your spine. His strong muscled frame melds into your side, a comforting gesture. He leaned in even closer, as your head rested comfortably on the expanse of his shoulder, and the ache was building inside of you, a feverish pressure. The action itself had become commonplace and allowed a feeling of comfort that not even your mind could deny.
"A very broad question, even for you," you scoff playfully. A sense of normalcy returns to the interaction. Your breathing returns to normalcy and your thoughts, much like your breathing, and you are thankful, as the grip of sorrow ebbs away. There's something almost primal, his gaze is different, as if trying to convey a feeling neither wants to put a name to, yet both wish it existed, one far more adamant and harder to hide.
Your eyes avert and land on the large boulders that surround the stream's natural pooling and waterfall, the sound and peaceful tranquillity, his eyes focused on the side of your head as they study your features, and they search, with intent, for an explanation, his thumb, gloved to match his other clothing, tracing your wrist, while his thumb caresses in small circles. He will get his answer from you, and there will be no denial or resistance from you. This was new, the actions were confusing, even as a quiet chuckle escaped. His thumb that held, squeezing. Not that it mattered to you right now.
"Talk to me," is all that was uttered, as his hand drifts along the line of your chin. And, it's said with care. A gentleness you rarely see and almost never get. Your shoulders fall in a sombre movement, your head lowering, turning his chin towards the water and your gaze fixes onto a small creature. You didn't respond for what feels like hours. Neither moves. Both wait patiently.
"I'm... overanalyzing everything. Everything I do or say, what others say...you," you whisper out your throat aches from everything you've put it through. There's a painful-sounding exhale. You focus on the palm that holds yours in place as he helps support you. You trace the patterns of his tattoos trying to distract yourself from the whirlwind of feelings, the urge to rip his hand away in an effort not to look vulnerable. The wall, that flimsy mental construct that fails in moments like this. As always. You loathe looking weak or small. Weaklings die fast.
"Your tears...how broken they sounded. How sad..." he pauses, as a strained exhale releases, sounding thick, raspy and very pained. It wasn't something he enjoyed witnessing. Your own distress hurt him more than he could explain. It'd hurt to witness and listen. There was this sickening, twisted knot in his gut and it's akin to anger. To see and hear the tremble of your body and your cry as it continued on, and on, and on; like a feral animal with no intention of ever stopping, like the breaking of a dam, the hurt became overwhelming. The twisting knot only tightened. To hear you hurt as much as he'd watched your frame tremble and ache in pain and distress, it wasn't a feeling he favoured and he liked even less that he could find no humour from the situation or you. It was new. He hated especially the gut-churning ache, knowing he couldn't protect you from any danger or insecurity. That protective part of him is what riles up the monster inside, his temper is about to flare. He's usually the cause. Not this. Anything but that.
His muscles ache to move, to slam things around in his rage at not being able to alleviate your pain. At the very least to crush the skull and spill the brain matter of any person or thing that made you shed that single tear, only this once, and to feel the life leave them.
There's a deep rumble, sounding rough and tense. Ragged. His hand flexes. It makes a noise. A garbled groan followed. Eyes squeezed shut, he curses under his breath. Angry with himself and those who'd caused you harm and grief. There's a vein sticking out from his temple.
"I'm in my own head, I take everyone's problems and deal with them; while I bottle up mine and hide them deep down," you state calmly and with an absent sigh, as the fingers and knuckles turn white as you tighten your hand. In response, Quan Chi leans down towards your ear and mutters his response, "Sounds unhealthy, to me," your mouth opens and closes. You don't reply, his chest stuttered as he let go of your wrist. You huff as his arm retreats. "Yes, well. You'd know all about healthy," the biting reply escapes before you can catch it. There is no malice in it.
He was right, of course, it wasn't sustainable. These moods would consume and devour you. One day it would ruin and consume you, and you didn't want that to be now or anytime in the future. He stares hard, into the distance. After the second attempt at finding his tongue and forming coherent words, the noise turns into a muffled grunt. A burning pressure grips you, a deep ache that feels like you're dying a little.
"I'm so tired," you sigh feeling your throat wanting to collapse into itself. His body pressed against yours and wrapped the other arm tightly around your back, his touch, strong and protective, possessive in a way and, no words were needed. It wasn't the most appropriate time for one of his ego-fuelling speeches about how you were one of a few people who held such a special and unique place in his heart, and none had ever rivalled it. Your arms squeeze around him in silent approval. Your breath catches a little, at the movement, and there's a pained noise that dies in your throat. His large form towers over you, the sound is lost in the loud roar. The moment passes, and you reluctantly part ways. The hand never wavers from its post at your hip, a light grazes as it falls back. Your breath slows and steadies once more as you catch the fleeting glance. The gaze burns right into your skull as his eyes fixate on yours. As if knowing his stare would set something loose in you. There was this powerful force behind his stare, a silent communication of some kind. An inner heat rises and burns in his dark pools, as if drawing you to him like a siren, with the force of nature as his willpower and a desire unspoken.
"I suppose that Raiden, Fujin and their champions are looking for me; I've been hiding for who knows how long now," you trail off as if realising, as your feet have carried you to stand where you once were, close, near the flowing waters.
The way his face seems so soft, there's a frown but it seems deeper, somehow. His expression looks wounded, or possibly wistful. As if he wants to reach and pull you in closer. Or at the very least grab your hand. As the hairs prickle on your neck and rise, that same sensation returns. A prickle runs its way down the length. You offer him your hand to pull himself to his feet. It was a peculiar motion, offering such a gesture. It felt oddly domestic for what both of you are to each other. A friendly gesture.
He takes it and allows you to assist him up to his feet, still looking confused but keeps your hand in his.
"What's the face for, are you not amused, Quan Chi," your soft tone invades his ears. Something swells within his chest cavity, a slight swelling that only just makes his heart rate change and his cheeks warm at the gentle sound of the melody that is your voice. Even if it sounds on the cusp of collapsing, he wants to take it all away from you, protect you from anything and everything that would hurt you or make you shed another single tear. The way he cradled your face and looked like he wanted to melt and kiss you. He lets the words bounce around the walls of his head. Words like a wind chime, like the soothing tones of a flute, the most beautiful and elegant instruments ever to be played. So naturally calming. They send his nerves and pulse aflame, setting fire to the bones and veins beneath the flesh and blood.
"Something is troubling you," you add, almost sensing the deep turmoil inside, hidden beneath the surface. He remains standing before you, never pulling away. He almost relishes the soft contact of your hand. He sees the world shift, and his mind reels as the walls seem to close around him, there's a queasiness that travels in the pit of his stomach. Nauseating. Disturbing. Irritating. Wrong.
"Are you going to say something, or simply watch me until I leave?" You tease lightly, slowly pulling your hand away from him. The amusement is apparent, despite the small sadness and disheartenment. As if wanting to keep your company for the rest of the evening. As the moment stretches on. He parts his lips but seems at a loss for words. As a curious tilt and arch of the brow forms. You reach out, placing the index finger under his chin, softly encouraging him to answer. He blinks, giving his head a slow, curious tilt. He appears perplexed by your sudden contact and displays of affection towards him. The finger slowly slides across the front of his throat, moving in a downward direction towards his chest above his heart. As your fingers dance a light graze of a circle and lines, the red ink symbols stand out bright against his white skin. Quan Chi's lip twitches and he leans into the touch. There's a half-stunned pause. The twitch turns to a slight tremor as your hand slowly reaches and entangles with his own. There's a stillness that you don't notice, like he's caught between wanting to pull you closer and stopping you, with a silent panic rising to the surface, and like he wants you to put your hands on him. To never stop.
There's a hum. Something pleased and almost hungry for contact and attention. There's a weakness present. Quan Chi knew this, and he wanted more. Craved it even. Something to make it stay and never end. A warmth. His lips slowly pulled and curled upward into a smug smirk.
He tilts his face closer, and he waits for you to either meet him halfway or recoil away. His heart flutters against his chest at the idea of your mouth on his. Possibly begging you to follow suit.
A twitching of his jawline shows as a teasing flash of teeth, sharp incisors and long-pointed canines. Your free hand moves and slowly glides across the full of his exposed forearm. Your thumb traces the ink that lines there. As he slowly tilts his head up. Inches his way forward, with an anticipatory feeling, like he's hoping for reciprocation and yet prepared to hear and feel rejection. A grunt or strangled sound emanates and his throat bobs as he swallows, hard, his head rolls forward and stops, causing his upper body to slump and droop towards yours. The tension within his shoulders that remains tight and ridged never eases, nor does his lower body stance relax.
A shiver tickles the base of his spine and slowly creeps its way across his body. His lower body becomes heavy and there's this internal static energy that begins to overflow from within him, to spill and overtake every single nerve.
Your hand moves as it curls at his nape, he takes a breath, tensing as his mind begins to wonder what will come. A hushed whisper meets his ears. His senses become aware. Too aware. He barely notices his mouth parts or a breath leaves him. Inhales deeply, and the smell, he thinks, the smell of flowers on the wind, just as your name leaves his throat, the raw timbre of his voice calling out, "I...."
A small grazing against his lower lip catches and hooks, and pulls him forward. Teasing, playful. An echo or two and a light caressing touch. Chaste, shy, and closed-mouthed. An electric-like jolt shudders across his body and the spark is all the catalyst, the trigger for this need and the desire that grows and builds with each brush or graze of his mouth, making a sound as his breath is taken from him, a sound akin to a soft gasp or grunt. You're leaning into it and it's all he's been waiting and wishing for, with an unfathomable need that overcomes him. A sensation unlike anything, the pleasantest feeling in existence, and he realised; it was a feeling no matter how hard he fought against it, there was no denying.
A shudder rolls its way through him. Another sound leaves him. A frustrated breath. And there's a hitch and stuttering, and a strange buzz, he ignores it in favour of deepening the kiss, using his strength, pulling you inwards closer, the buzz gets stronger. And again there's a frustrating feeling as you break and separate your lips, not allowing yourself to part fully but enough to see his eyes and lips, but not losing the connection of hands.
You chuckle slightly as the fog and clouded haze of his brain slowly clears and fades as reality slowly hits. A buzz that can't be explained, that felt as if it grows louder, echoing and humming louder and louder. A frustrated breath or sigh follows, a 'No. No. No," Quan Chi chants in his head, silently begging for your attention again.
You know you want this but, your body and mind hurt needing to sleep after what you went through, and knowing, as the headache was becoming increasingly painful the longer you kept on standing there, waiting, that it would probably be hours and several conversations to make him realise. His brows turn into an irritated and focused expression, still frustrated you had pulled apart fully. He blinks, slightly confused and turns his face, to try and distract himself and his desires and distract himself from you. Not even he could tell his own face, as his mind began to overcomplicate every single thing about the situation, every word, and move, he'd regret.
"I have a skull-splitting headache, I'm going to retire to my room for the night. I hope I'll see you around Quan Chi. Thank you for staying with me; goodnight." You smile as you begin to walk back towards the sparring area and toward the Earthrealmer's rooms. As you leave his space and make your retreat and exit, he stands, feeling perplexed, and stunned, a flutter in the pit of his stomach as his heart aches a little. He turns, taking his first step before he feels a thumping, dizzying motion, and suddenly he feels too awake and energised. It takes him a second to process. The moment passes, and the strange tension he's feeling subsides somewhat as he takes several more steps, with his stride long and broad. It doesn't last. The warmth or energy doesn't fade. It still feels and still there, all he could hear was the steady pounding of his own heart. His heart beating far too loudly for his liking and a dryness of his mouth and throat and his blood rushes. It wasn't until several minutes later, that he realised you had placed some distance between the two of you and were no longer with him. He resists the urge to search and ask those he comes into contact with. He makes no move to check the areas he passes knowing you were headed to your room.
With a snarl and a quiet grumbling and huff, he puffs his chest, straightens his posture, and begins to walk in the opposite direction. All the while, with the butterflies dancing around in his stomach, his mind a flurry of thoughts and images of you. He swipes his fingertips, running the rough pads of his fingertips across his lip as he retraces your touch, an internal shiver followed, thinking of how amazing it was. His stomach knotting tighter than before, and an odd warmth slowly blossoms from within the centre, pooling, gathering and reaching towards all the edges of his limbs. An unfurling as if to wrap him like a snake or large water sponge that hung from his body, pulling the edges to grip and cling, making him warm, warmer, hot. His gaze lands on your form that walks ahead, how had he caught up to you so quickly, when had he moved to begin with? The thoughts only serve as fuel as he quietly shadows and creeps, his footsteps falling heavier and harder than they should, drawing your attention as you turn your head in response. A soft smile with a look that seemed relieved he wasn't someone else or any danger to you, though his demeanour remained tight and coiled. Like a venomous snake had wound its way around his arms and body, unable to fully open. He noticed it too, unable to calm the simmering foreign feelings and sensations.
Quan Chi let his gaze roam over your body. His lips drew and pursed in thought and contemplation. You can feel his eyes on you as if drinking in your form. You keep heading towards your room knowing he's following you. It seems like the butterflies have returned and are knocking themselves up trying to escape, and the small quivering mass of a lump is stuck in your throat. You can hear his loud laboured breath as if he had run for miles on end without pausing for rest or catch a single breath, a desperate need to reclaim the energy lost and wasted by walking too far without acknowledging the air. His heavy footfalls close to you, he sounds like he's close enough to grab you from behind. The only reason he hadn't was in case one of your champions showed up. He must think it is enough and doesn't press closer, following the path at a considerable and safe distance.
Your head starts to throb and ache as you ignore it for as long as possible, listening to the deafening sounds of his steps as you pass the many torches until you reach your door. With a swipe and a twist of the handle, Quan Chi begins to increase his speed and before you know it, his form fills the frame as he follows through the doorway. Your chambers fill with the soft noise as the latch and the bolt are snapped and locked in place. Your skin prickles under the attention of his burning gaze is locked on your every movement as if he is watching his prey waiting for the right time to strike and make a feast. His laboured breathing was louder in the confined space. You both are on your own here; it wouldn't be bad, you think, having him around a little longer, keeping you company. But the ache only grows and intensifies as you hear him growl or sigh something, a noise. Almost as if sensing the frustration within him. He stands within your personal bubble, he has made no attempts to take his leave, as your headache slowly grows worse. You slowly turn your back to him again finding something to take for your headache or pain, anything would help.
You find one of the elixirs that Kitana had snuck into your hands last time you visited Outword with Raiden and Liu Kang. You quickly drink the purple elixir, tasting the bitter taste hit your tongue, however, it seems to alleviate your pain almost instantaneously. You rub and press fingers to the top of your head where a sore patch of raised flesh stands.
He begins to remove the pieces of his outfit that cling to him. Letting them fall and crumble on the stone flooring. The hairs rise along the surface of your flesh, hearing him silently shuffling as his clothes slowly fall to the floor. His boots clattered as they crashed and clanged. His sharp breathing was louder and harsher, a sound filled with need and longing, like his lungs were desperately clawing to hold or contain his desire, his hunger. A sense of calmness spreads from your nerves as he grabs your hips and waist, pulling you tight to him. The hairs rise along the surface of your flesh, hearing him silently shuffling as his clothes slowly fall to the floor. His boots clattered as they crashed and clanged. His sharp breathing was louder and harsher, a sound filled with need and longing, like his lungs were desperately clawing to hold or contain his desire, his hunger. A sense of calmness spreads from your nerves as he grabs your hips and waist, pulling you tight to him, his grip firm. A gasp escapes and falls from your parted lips. There's something hot and stiff that juts into your lower back and something primal unfurls within the depths of your soul. Your eyes close momentarily as the slow grind and motions tease your rear end, making heat slowly pool low between your legs. There's a stifled gasp as the contact presses harder, more intensely, creating the tiniest spark. Something makes him halt momentarily, leaving you in suspense and anticipation for what will follow.
The butterflies explode and seem as if they will force themselves through the confines of your stomach. The gentle rolling and pressing makes your blood tingle as if ice-cold daggers made the flowing streams within your very body sing and pulse a slow beat of life. A gasping moan falls from your parted lips. Something about your lips seems to have him snapping his own self-control. Quan Chi snaps, unable to stop himself from thinking about it. If this is wrong, it feels incredible. As his hands move quickly to try and remove your clothing while making you walk backwards towards your bed. His own breath is heavy as his breaths become heavier than before. Hotter, almost a heated need, as he grabs your shoulders. Making you face him, unable to do much besides stand there, unable to bring yourself to say anything in case any words ruined the moment. His lips descend, covering yours, engulfing them and capturing them and plundering with a fervent intensity that takes your breath away. His hands are clutching at your waist as you fall backwards onto the soft comfort of the bed. There's a stuttering groan at the back of his throat as the sound is absorbed, it rumbled its way through and past your lips and past his own. His mouth sucks gently, and while a tongue pushed its way between your teeth, the noises continued, though no protests could be found nor could you feel yourself doing or saying such things, no protest or denying anything, it was pleasant, enjoyable. Something no one else but you seemed to have or gain.
Slowly, hesitantly, the pressure of his mouth becomes more forceful and harder, sending shivers and tingles of awareness all across the length of your body. You sigh, trying to give back as much as possible, though as a brief spark flares between the two of your entwined forms and the next kiss takes place, making the senses erupt, making you break away with a loud exhale or sound of surprise or pleasure. There's a quiet chuckle, one with a teasing tone, one of pleasure, one where the smugness couldn't be stopped. There's a slow, calculated inhale, as his nose bumps against your neck, taking the opportunity to draw more air through his nostrils and breathing it back out as he takes more air into his lungs.
His hand moves upwards. Taking a leisurely pace, allowing his fingertips to slowly trace and dip over the curves, bumps, dips and swells, before tickling a soft path downward. He slowly undoes a few buttons to grant him access, allowing his hand to roam over your shoulder and underneath. He fumbles, becoming distracted by the movement, breaking the kiss, a whimper or two follows as he has to concentrate. He mutters incoherently and curses against the kisses he plants and grazes and laves at your lower lip before gently biting and tugging. Tender and soft movements follow his hard and urgent ones. Soft groans of satisfaction and happiness. Pleasure. Pain. You can't help but focus on the slight quivering and shaking, a sound vibrating and shuddering against his throat. There's a hum or two and another tug at the sensitive nub.
A snap of his hips brings a new spark, and for a few minutes, everything stops. His movement. His breath. It is almost as if the entire world stops spinning. And, despite a distant ringing that reaches out from the deepest corner of his mind, his consciousness slowly slips, almost a momentary blackout. Blinking his eyes slightly, he tries to come to terms with everything happening as the pleasure continues and feels like it is getting better and better. The moment his brain turns back on, his mouth releases you and parts with the kiss.
The same warmth settles in his gut again, different to any feeling he has experienced. His eyes trail down your body, almost completely uncovered now, thanks to the impatient tugging of his clothes. One leg is flung over the opposite of his hip, which you seem to hook around, pressing and creating wonderful friction, letting the grinding drag and pull of clothed crotches intensify.
There's a flutter and something deeper, more primal, and more animalistic as his primal instincts and impulses kick in, overwhelming him, and clouding his better judgment. This seems almost too surreal, he feels the burn of desire course its way through his system, something no woman had ever accomplished before and he wonders what it was that made you different from the others. Not a mere tool to use or something to warm his bed but an experience, a rush, a connection he had not felt in so long or even felt before. It seemed more powerful, deeper, something he did not understand. It seemed different. Strange.
Something told him he should stay away but being together made him forget everything else. To explore, seek, touch, taste, feel, even the sounds. In these fleeting moments, it almost felt like the two of you had somehow synced. The desperate hunger and an almost frenetic energy consume each other. There's a definite impression that he's trying to stop or fight whatever urges or desires he's having.
The seconds are slow, and they stretch and almost grow. Awareness is still present. Only not quite at its normal level of lucidity, so much as a faint hint of it remains. His breathing is more rapid than a steady pattern, as his body arches, seeking something only you have and have access to. You slowly touch his chest trying to catch his distracted eyes. At this, the quickened beats of his heart pump in rapid succession. It feels and sounds almost deafening to hear.
There's a gasp, but he can barely make out the sound over the harsh thump-thumping. A low growl reverberates from deep in the chest, it is almost like his soul or his desires have begun to unleash and bleed into his very being. Slowly he opens his eyes, seeing the naked flesh of your own chest, and breasts, his brain only partly functions but is almost entirely blank when his vision trails lower and sees a perfect image of smooth-toned muscle, silky skin, and unhindered lust and desire.
With a slight shake of his head and a nudge, he grabs and pulls you, without warning or hesitation, on top of him, urging you to straddle and rest above and against the part he has ached and hurt so much, a twitching and pulsing sensation has made the confines of his loins unbearably tight. A tortured groan is strained and pulls free.
The response is immediate, your thighs gripping and securing you tightly to him as if to press harder against one another. "Are you sure you want this, are you sure you can even handle it, Quan Chi?..." He shifts his hips and slowly thrusts upwards, causing a rough scrape as he bumps and grinds against you, letting out a deep groan that sounded full of gravel, heat and need.
There's a momentary pause as his voice rings out with a deep, rich, velvety baritone. His words and answers were strained but still thick, but certain. There's a pause for a beat, and in his gaze, his thoughts race. Your own thoughts are of the same idea or maybe not as there's a growing desire as a dizzying sensation sets in, an excited yet calmness fills. As your vision locks and the corners of your mouth quirk up as a coy, knowing smile, a purr of words escapes. His movements were bold as a rush of desire hit.
"Don't worry. I'll be gentle." Your whisper was nearly lost but held a tiny hint of laughter as the tension built, his expression not betraying or showing anything other than burning passion and longing. But there's something in him that begs or yearns to give in. Gives up. His cocky confidence, self-assurance, self-control and dominance are all missing and his determination to resist, a sign of his to break is evident in the sudden way his cock jumps. He needs release. Now. And this is a fight, and he knows he can't win against his desires, as much as he doesn't want to admit it.
In seconds, your breath is knocked out of you, his breathing laboured, but you take that as your sign as you slowly, teasingly, remove your undergarments, taking care of his underwear. He leans closer, wrapping his strong arm around you as his other hand grazes, giving your hips a squeeze as he caresses. Almost to savour, soak up the moment. The butterflies continue as you adjust and place your hand against him, hearing him gasp quietly as he uses his hands to rub along your arms, entwining his fingers. His grip tightened for a brief moment before relaxing. There's something sweet. Adorable. Charming, even. About the way he looks, the way his eyes are closed and there's no tension in his face. There's a gentle ease. A sound follows as your muscles flex to steady or ground the rhythm you set, taking pleasure in the act, the movement. He drew breath heavily through his nose and his breathing became heavy. Almost harsh.
With a shifting motion and a move forward, the slow sliding and spreading begins to blossom and bloom as he starts to slip slowly, slowly down the slippery entrance and then. A feeling like he's suddenly surrounded and overwhelmed. His eyelids lift slightly, trying to lock you in. There's a shake, a shiver, and a moan escaping his parted lips. Your other hand continues stroking him, not too slow. Or not too fast. Until you slide almost completely off and a pair of hips begin a rocking or sliding motion, you shift back and forth. Your slickness covered his member, and his legs shook as he bucked upwards, begging silently for more, so you obliged and lifted your hips only to sit fully back, causing the sharpest sparks and most incredible burst of pleasure to dance over the head and slide along him, stretching you in every possible direction. His cock fits like a puzzle. Sliding or adjusting or adjusting inside your slick walls. The thickness rubs and touches every possible sensitive spot. As your breath catches and is taken and drawn into his. And then, before the muscles could accommodate, a shift occurred. You ride him now and the moans build. There was the sensation of fullness. Your flesh is stretched and your heartbeat picks up speed.
An involuntary clenching occurs as your muscles spasm and begin to shudder and tighten around the invading member as your bodies, the sheer size of his manhood fills the space inside completely, he's about to speak but is stopped or stalled and instead cries out in a half groan half howl as pleasure is the only thing felt. His senses become flooded and the pumping, pulsing, and thumping in his blood becomes rhythmic in motion. With an incredible wave building between the both of you, the mounting pressure is almost explosive as he guides you. But you have other plans, slowly raising your body up before quickly dropping. The intensity builds and escalates. Again, and again. Harder and faster. You seem determined, never losing speed or rhythm, each stroke setting another flame or spark ablaze. He has difficulty with his vision, his vision becomes glazed or fogged. A hazy or clouding and his breathing grows even rougher and is even more strained, fighting off any sign or release of control. With every other push, his dick hits something pleasurable or tender or soft, sending shivers, a sensation that almost makes his mind turn off from functioning normally. Wetness fills the tightening space, where the friction and grinding intensified. The temperature increases a few degrees, and the skin becomes even redder, flushed and irritated with beads and drops of sweat sliding down.
Almost too quickly, the moments before orgasm arrived, the sensitivity making your insides vibrate, every nerve ending and cell practically thrummed and a mounting of pressure and coils became taut. Your legs tremble slightly, your insides quivering around him. Squeezing and compressing against the throbbing length. The grip was fierce, unrelenting, it seemed impossible, or a tightening too much. There is an arch, a twitching motion that starts low. Then higher. Higher. Climbing until he finds himself closer. You almost collapse from the heat and pressure as his skin glistens. With a quick movement, a jerk forward, you throw and cast your legs out, and there's an echoing slapping as the force becomes great. Suddenly. Abruptly. With an electrifying crack, a coil snaps as a spike or wave of intense bliss washes over him. There is a spreading fire as a sudden contraction of particularly deep thrust forces the hardest and most intense orgasms. This one causes you to scream, and you throw your head back, not being able to breathe at all. While his world shatters with the ferocity of it and the impact of your climax is hard, fast, and deep as his entire frame shuddered and spasmed. An almost primal sound rattles within his rib cage and escapes his parted, screaming lips. His body still spasming and shaking in an effort to fill the need or drive the impulse to finish or complete the cycle. He manages it as his body reaches completion, leaving behind a dripping mess, completely and utterly exhausted.
It seems he might have overindulged in his moment of selfishness, unable to help the flow as the desire and release spill outwards, uncontainable within his being. Everything was suddenly much clearer as though he was more grounded. A voice creaks, a whimper or something similar leaves your mouth, and it is difficult to get to your senses as the soreness throbs, you attempt to ease the discomfort of lying on the mattress as he nudges and you roll and fall back slightly onto the silk sheets of your bed. He also fell backwards with you, almost crumbling. There was a vibration and an occasional shudder that passed over his body and seemed as if he was unable to move a muscle. No words are exchanged or spoken, just quiet and satisfied grunts. Heavy panting was heard. Unable to move for several long minutes.
Eventually, once a few moments or what seems like an hour passes, there is a slight rise and lift and with a trembling arm or shaky legs, Quan Chi rolls the both of you over and pushes or nudges at you. Letting out an odd noise as the fluids escaped and you could feel the tension ease from his body, before he leaned over, curling and cocooning you into the warmth he provided. Not a single complaint about the wet mess he had made. Though there was a quiet and sleepy but drowsy and dazed whisper as his voice was hoarse from his previous activity and sounds he had made or let go as the pair of you lay on the bed, becoming lost and lulled, a fleeting moment passed before darkness embraced and surrounded your vision. There was nothing to feel at the moment and it felt nice. Pleasant even, to feel the exhaustion after such an intense act. You wouldn't have been surprised if sleep came easily, however, his hand drifted down slowly over your hipbone, coming to rest protectively over your waist and he gave you a small tug forward, drawing your bodies closer together, his embrace being firmer, more protective than seductive or sexy.
There were no words spoken and only a gentle rocking or gentle back and forth as sleep slowly started to claim you and a soft kiss was placed at the edge of your mouth. Your hair brushed the pillow beneath and with another moment passing, the room was left behind, darkening with the arrival of slumber as it took you and him under. Sleep claiming the two of you without much of a fight. It seems rest is a bit better to embrace this time, as neither of you could fight the tiredness that plagued you, especially when there's security provided, both of you will remain undisturbed or undiscovered and allowed to remain alone as things seem to work out in your favour.
When sleep left the following morning and you tried to move a little, your limbs screamed at you. There was also a voice heard that caused everything from the night before to resurface as your name was called or called out as Quan Chi attempted to bring your attention or focus to him. There's a glimpse of a glimpse of skin and his back and muscles. Your eyes roam a bit until his voice breaks the momentary silence, disrupting your silent observation.
His voice carried. It was clear, steady and smooth, not cracking, breaking, or shaking. He was prepared, his thoughts weren't the jumble or scrambled mess they were last night, and no longer clouded or obscured by lust. A note of strength is found as he straightened himself, rising out of the tangled sheets. Once more he became a dignified and regal sorcerer, though maybe slightly less. You rose, propping your head with a few pillows while Quan Chi seemed to enjoy stretching, revealing the fact he hadn't slept in so long. There's not much awkwardness or embarrassment shared between the two of you. If not for a slight shift in his eyes you wouldn't have known. Still, your mind raced to a stop as your eyes lingered and traced his well-formed biceps and back muscles.
"Can't we just stay in bed a little longer?" You groan as you roll onto your side draping your arm across his chest as a childish pout comes out. "Is that a proposal?" Quan Chi gave a smug grin at you, playfully mocking you, a short laugh that was half a hum and a chuckle rumbled free as the tips of his fingers brushed lightly at the ends of your hair.
"Take it as you want," you sigh as you slowly tighten your arm around him, nuzzling into him, almost burying into him, completely and totally clinging or clinging onto him. Even the feeling of a bit of morning stubble scraped a bit, tickling a bit. Another silence befell. His skin was hot and warm against the cool sheets, and a small flush stained his cheekbones, but the coolness seemed to bother him, in contrast to his skin temperature. But the air seemed a lot less heavy and burdened by unsaid thoughts and a whole lot lighter, to the point he started running his hand down your bareback as he shimmied closer, embracing you a little tighter as he sighed, it felt quite comfortable. A soft sigh escaped your lips from the contact of warm flesh and he tilted his head, causing you to tilt your own, letting his hands travel or run down.
He tucked an unruly strand behind your ear and watched as the corner of your eyes wrinkled a little at his action. A small giggle escaped and it caught both of your attention as the mood started shifting back to normal, but you could see that his gaze turned gentler and a little less haughty. His usual scowl wasn't as pronounced and the lines had become softer. Not harsh or prominent. Though his arrogance did still appear, it seemed more subtle or less prominent.
He ran his fingers in and out of your locks of hair, as his lips brushed over and made contact with yours. As the tender act progressed, he abruptly turned, letting the weight of his body slowly press against you and he practically pinned you underneath him. Letting out an audible moan of approval, he smirked. The kisses continued as his hands carefully explored. Your fingers played, almost with some shyness in them. There were a few moments before it became rather intimate. When it was intense or feverish. As an act of neediness, his mouth pulled away briefly and his breathing was harsh, as a response he drew breath and seemed to soak in the sights, a shudder passed over your form as his calloused and scarred hands delicately trailed along the small of your back, stroking and caressing the sensitive skin there, and you buried your head in the crook of his neck. With a moment and another move or shift he groaned, moving the stray lock behind your ear and breathed, a quiet and barely there sound as it escaped. His skin prickled slightly, but you didn't notice. But he certainly did, with the air becoming warm or sweltering, his hands still lingered, before his eyes finally locked. At that moment, the pair of you gazed in a bit of silence, the whole world silencing itself. It lasted only a beat, or two.
Suddenly, his body jerked, flinching and almost pulling away or jolting upwards. Quan Chi shifted up from the covers and sat cross-legged as you crawled and wormed your way over to him and wiggled your way into his lap, almost with an eagerness, though he didn't stop it. Instead, he encircled or circled an arm around your middle, his fingers absentmindedly trailing up and down or tracing up, his heartbeat now louder and thundering or throbbing, a sharpness and awareness prickles, bringing your own heartbeat up. The sound was hypnotic and had a somewhat soothing effect, beating at an alarming rate, yet still maintaining the soothing beat, if that made sense, though he looked perfectly calm, or had to make an effort not to show his anxiety or his uneasiness, it almost radiated or pulsated. He turned his head and you looked up towards the ceiling with him, the pair of you staring or glancing up.
You tilted your head to stare back at the same dark red orbs.
"You weren't disappointed, were you?
There was another shift as your eyebrows arched upwards before a short pause followed. A slight widening of his eyes. Almost sheepish. Not cocky or self-absorbed.
"Last night." His lip twitched slightly. It seems as though he wanted to smirk or smirk in a way. It seemed almost like a smirk, it was more of a smile, an amused glimmer sparking in his gaze as he brought a hand up and swept his fingertips along the slope of your cheek, the movement seemed as though it had no purpose, a distracted touch and it left goosebumps as a soft sigh escapes, and you're back in his lap.
"You were excellent, no complaints."
The sorcerer's mouth curved in a small grin of relief as you reach upwards to lightly and slowly trace circles into his temples. "Well, it seems you did the job a little too well, I'm practically drained," you reply softly, his chuckle making a light blush form as your arms wrapped around him a little more. He gave your sides an affectionate squeeze and buried his face into the curve of your neck. The bed dipped slightly and it moved beneath your body. He shuffled slightly, turning so you were straddling his lap, so you could look up at him more properly. One of his large hands came up to cradle the side of your face. You can't help but lean into his touch, revelling in the fact that it seemed he really, truly wanted this. Quan Chi felt content; relaxed even. It was unfamiliar. Yet he was happy and content. It was strange and nice at the same time. His fingers cupped your cheek as the others pushed the hair back from your face, lingering, almost reverent in the touch as the gesture was repeated.
"You do look quite handsome when you are this relaxed," your words draw him from his thoughts and the softness there surprises and startles him. The words seemed to echo and bounce in his mind. It seemed to sink into the dark corners and for the first time in a long time the crushing weight felt easier to bear, but there was a shake of his head, almost trying to remove any kind of negative feelings. They'd only drive him mad. But even so, there was a rough growl or groan at the back of his throat that nearly caught you off guard as it seemed you brought back his lusty side, as he bent and turned and flipped. The next moment was a blur. The blankets suddenly flurried around you as you gasped as your body was pressed or slammed against the cool silken sheets.
"But I wouldn't want you to get too used to it, I'll leave an even more exquisite impression on you. With that, you gulped as the sorcerer began pushing his length into you slowly. You cringed. There's a sting of pain that immediately appears, in a low tone his breath stuttered slightly as you sucked a sharp hissing inhale. His eyebrows raise or perch up towards his forehead at the unexpected sting. His muscles coil or flex.
Quan Chi stops and holds a stiff pose, his entire body frozen, rigid, and straight, and then he swiftly draws back completely.
"Did I hurt you?" He asks his eyes wide, his gaze a bit concerned. "No, not really. Just a bit sore from last night. It's been a long time since I've been intimate with someone like this," He bites his lip. Your vision becomes hazy as he towers, and you get to see the most gentle or tenderness in his face he seems almost sympathetic, which catches you a bit off guard and for a second the wicked, dark side of him seems to dissipate and you can't help the shudder and tremble. Not one of fear, one of anticipation as he suddenly smiled. It seems that the feeling of pride in causing this reaction swelled in his chest.
"Let me help you out then," his voice was thick and hoarse. The way it sent tingles through your system, and you shivered when he spoke, you found him attractive. The slow movements as he pulled himself down lower were suddenly accompanied by another, you bit and stifled a scream into the back of your hand. With a careful but strong grip, he pushed one of your thighs and legs forward, holding the soft area below your knee, almost resting against his shoulder as he leaned in.
"Then again, you're going to be making much more noise after a bit." There is another cry when his finger easily pushes its way inside you, the sudden invasion causes a sharp gasping inhale, which earns a deep groan from your partner as he wraps his other arm around your knee to steady you.
His breathing is quite laboured, and shallow. Very rapid and it sounds almost deafening in the otherwise silent room. The sorcerer does nothing but watch for a moment, transfixed by the sight of his digit, knuckle deep in the tight clench. When the tiny, muffled noises from above stop. A trembling whine as your walls throb around his finger. He doesn't even know or hear how he exhales the air he'd been holding in for who knows how long. There is a sudden itch he has to satisfy, he can't help it, the desire and the urge to pull a better moan or scream and cry out. Slowly the sorcerer twisted his hand, not pulling or drawing back, though he added another digit, watching for a reaction or a movement, all while studying, monitoring or observing as his fingers curled and slid. He shifts ever so slightly and, at the same time, he pulls a bit more, using his thumb to find your sensitive button. He stares at you and gets more excited at the noises you're making, in the early darkness of morning.
It doesn't seem like it should be possible for the pleasure to surge any higher, but somehow it does as he keeps moving. Tension mounts quickly. Too quickly. And Quan Chi scissors or curls his fingers a few times, and then begins to drag his fingers gently from the opening to the button in long, slow movements. He finds himself intoxicated and entranced as his pace suddenly increases. His rhythm never falters or breaks, as a pleasant jolt seems to shiver through you and every inch of his body goes slack.
Your fingers, your hands dig and claw, scratching down his thighs. The marks left and the ripple or wave that it seemed caused through the sorcerer's body was not lost. And before long, his member hardened again. With an intensity as his touch drove and sparked. Pushing you closer and closer until finally you come undone beneath him. It doesn't feel like enough. It feels as though the pair of you were just getting started. His fingers slip out slowly, missing the contact they provided. His breath is hot against your folds. There was something animalistic as he looked up and pulled back. Eyes roaming over your bare, exposed skin, like he was looking at something he coveted or prized.
Your chests rise and fall, but his are still deep, it makes his eyes spark. Your throat dry as his lidded gaze fixes on you. Your own is dazed and drunk, heavy. After a long beat, he slowly slides his tongue over your mound. Stroke. Over and over. It makes you shudder. Lapping at the slick juices coating you, greedily, as if savouring the taste and getting addicted, the rough and musky groans only made things worse. As your nails dug deeper into his thighs. All it took was a breathy exhale or gasp as it became desperate. With his tongue toying you, exploring.
Your mouth falls open but not a single sound emerges; silent shudders and breathless moans. He pulls his eyes up and his irises are full black. It's like a high that won't go down or be stopped. Then he buries his face deeper in, nose pressing firmly against your clit, letting the hot breath engulf or coat your heat. Unfazed by the liquid you spilt as it dripped over the ridge of his lips and dribbled down his chin, causing his lusty and hungry state to build more as you released a higher-pitch squeal and whine, digging your nails into him more as he continued his actions, dipping his head even further down. The feeling and sensation that follows makes your stomach drop. An alien intrusion that sent you to another level or plane of ecstasy, so foreign yet so thrilling. The initial flick was small, barely a flutter, and yet it set the nerves afire and a noise poured from you. It seemed to spur him. To feel encouraged by that, a second tongue flutter came. Then another, and another, faster and quicker and rougher, eventually building to a frenzied flurry.
It was good. His mouth. Too good. It was overwhelming. It seemed as if you were drowning, choking and gasping, filling with waves and pulses. He laved and devoured. Suckling or drawing, with the sharp tugs, until you writhed. When your pleasure plateaued, you shuddered and tensed and rolled your head back, keening. Still, it didn't seem to be enough. A vicious tug dragged you over the edge. Fisting handfuls of hair. Guttural and broken moans erupt free. Even though his strength should have kept you pinned, a deep yearning, a carnal need spurs, to grind your hips against his face roughly and without restraint. He only groans from the force and the harsh grip, unable or unwilling to fight or push. Taking more of your slick as if it was the most delicious thing, he couldn't get enough and refused. Your whole form spasming as the tides keep crashing. Until your insides pulsed, clenching as he drank from you, you couldn't contain it, it was far too intense, yet even still, you couldn't stop the jerks or the hitches of breath and panting or laboured gasps. Until everything stops. And only then can you breathe. Eventually, his actions cease as you buckle under the strain, your limbs go lax and loose. He swallows one last time, and your tremors go wild.
Another kiss to each thigh and you whimper at how tender or sensitive, though not being able to protest as he slowly begins his gentle affections. At some point, you both roll and he leans over you. But neither of you speaks or seems to have anything to say, despite the chaos. And there's an energy, like the night was continuing.
"Shit," you breathe as you struggle to catch your breath. You have just enough wherewithal left to cast a look at the man looming over you. Even with an early sunrise light, your orgasm paints his face and his expression is mildly flushed, and there's an obvious tension that had yet to fully break. That much is evident from the hardness bobbing between his legs. His brow wrinkles and he furrows them at you, but the irritation doesn't quite reach his eyes, his breathing remains choppy, and he's no longer staring, or attempting to make eye contact.
"Just give me a moment to breathe and I'll return the favour," you purr in a warm and inviting way. And he thinks about what it is you're offering. The chance to completely ruin him, to bring the ruthless man into submission, to hear the shattering, cracking wall collapse as his defences were weakened, but the idea and thoughts were lost, he hadn't noticed how much closer he moved, it happened rather unannounced as he simply lowered himself atop, resting his weight against you, his chest to your breasts. The hard warmth brushes your stomach and as you meet his eye, a finger creeps along, tracing small lines in your skin. He says nothing, perhaps enjoying the lingering buzz. But if that's the case, why is there a twinge of emptiness? The ache was dull. Almost an ache for something more.
"I think I'm good lay back for me," you coo in his ear, softly and very quietly, barely audible and you swear his heart skips a beat. Another hardness presses against you, as you dip lower, looking down at him as his breaths suddenly get more intense or rough. The words bring back the aching desire, making his body move or jerk slightly. He releases a strangled grunt. You thought he'd make a snarky comment. You almost waited for him to scoff and look at you smugly, and then make his usual sardonic quips, but it doesn't come. He merely takes your offer and shifts and moves his form backwards and away. His dark eyes narrowed in warning as you approached closer, with a sudden strike. It was sharp and the slight pressure that followed or grazed in a motion to give his length a slow pump and tug. There was something delicate and innocent to the gesture, as your head dipped and nuzzled into his inner thigh, the unintentional brush of your nose into his skin caused his head to toss backwards. With a hum. He allows you a moment. To allow your senses and his to heighten as the ministrations and delicate feathery touches continued, and a sweet mewl and groan escape, goosebumps to rise, and a knot began forming and tightened deep in his stomach, his abdomen doing backflips and leaps as your mouth descended.
A flicker of contact that turns his knees to jelly, before his back hits the sheets. He has to take a deep steadying inhale. Your lips press firmly against the surface but don't immediately withdraw as you prolong the experience. The world fades or dissolves, turning a thick static and blur. His vision fails, and he has to clench his eyes shut. Biting his lips to keep himself quiet, his brain flooded as his control nearly slipped. Another breath escapes his nose. Slow and deep, but the same pleasure spikes. You've only kissed him and already have him melting or becoming a puddle. But the man is silent or unmoving and doesn't protest as the lip presses harder, more firm and with the same slowness as the tip of his length disappears and descends. As the bliss spreads your wet heat consumes him in ways you would never realise or have the power to imagine. It causes an array of new sensations and feelings as your lips seal around his girth. A guttural, rough groan erupts from deep within, something in his throat as his entire world zeros in on the one action and feels as if the world had fallen away or disappeared. It seems that's as far as you'll go. Before a tingling warmth fills him and pools in his loins, and you drag it out. His mind spins. His blood running thick and his heart hammering or pounding in his ears as if the whole ordeal was a game. As you slowly pull away and then swiftly descend, burying your face in his crotch and engulfing. Sucking on his throbbing member, feeling his pulse or heartbeat thrum. He wanted to warn or scream, a part of him didn't want you to pull away, but all he could let out was a whine, which caught you by surprise. There was a foreign part of his mind, screaming, almost howling or crying. Even as his stomach tightened, in a deep sense of confusion. All rational thoughts ceased. Involuntary twitches as he struggled and his breathing got harsher or more rugged. Every ounce of focus remained, determined not to completely lose all composure or control, as a throb echoed. A shiver seemed to ripple through the body beneath you, and you moaned in appreciation; slowly picking up your speed and rhythm. Hollowing your cheeks you swallowed him again. With no effort and only soft pants of your name that became more raw or guttural, in an aggressive way, an untamed cry, filled with ferocity. Something like pride swells in your chest, knowing that it's because of you, and your actions that have his body bending to your whims and desires. His eyelids flicker as his cock twitches. He couldn't do much other than lay back. Too lost in a euphoric bliss as you gave in, slobbering, saliva drooling and falling as you grew more and more determined to hear that moan. He didn't bother stopping or covering it. His hands grasp the sheets tighter as his head falls back. His hips moved on their own, thrusting up in short, spastic movements, pushing more into the cavern and getting a strange urge or wave of gratification. Until he comes undone, his load erupts. Hot ropes coat the inside of your mouth, your moans and groans vibrating off him, the shudder is quick but it's an added bonus that only leaves him breathless. Your throat convulses and spasms, suckling hard until his length was finally soft, though it had hardly finished. But when you rose your mouth pops free and it makes a lewd noise which both fluster and mortify him. The wet, sticky liquid remained, you swallowed it shortly before opening your mouth to show him you didn't spit or waste a single drop.
Quan Chi sits forward, resting on his arms, his chest rising and falling with every heavy breath, his mind raced, thoughts reeling. You leaned forward again, and he shuddered a bit when you softly and gingerly, tenderly kissed his jaw. There was a vulnerability about it. Somewhat possessive and claiming, not overt, but with a weight or gravitas that seemed to exist. Perhaps the sorcerer misread, he was caught up in his own needs.
"You, are something else entirely," he husks. Even in the dwindling dark, the atmosphere is tinged with something. "I feel we are going to have more nights like this," you leaned down and pressed your lips to his and his response was weak, hardly resisting.
There's no room to deny that his strength seemed drained. From the slight shaking in his shoulders. Neither of you commented or remarked, silently accepting the statement for what it was. Quan Chi didn't resist or offer a complaint or protest as he simply collapsed back into the plush and silky sheets. You join him resting on his chest, resting your head on him to listen to his heartbeat, soothing and steady as his arms loosely pull you close and hold you in his grasp, giving you an affectionate squeeze. Not one part of him thought to force or push. Or complain. After some time, he drapes his arms around you and gives another tender or firm squeeze and you smile, and nuzzle into him further. As the room seemed to embrace or envelope you both, sleep beckoned. Pulling your senses down.
In the distant background of your thoughts, you hear him let out a 'hm' and a 'never in my wildest dreams,' before his eyes fluttered or drooped closed and his breath steadied, gradually becoming quieter. Leaving a small contented sigh as his lips tugged into a soft smile. He looks peaceful. His brows furrow but no frown or grimace forms, he simply mumbles. Almost absentmindedly as his subconscious stirred. It was an acknowledgement, an observation that seemed to cause an effect and cause him to draw you closer in his grip. As a sharp yawn escapes you, fighting against your own eyelids. Fumbling to find and grab the sheets, drawing them around you both as a way of shielding yourself or guarding in an intimate way. The sorcerer's chest swelled as a wave or trickle of satisfaction sparked and spread, it felt as though the whole evening and night had been a dream. Despite being well aware of what had taken place. Or the events, he could have been sure his actions hadn't been entirely planned, but still, a part of him seemed to know it was inevitable, with some part or fraction of him also blaming his inability to resist. But not as if it had been unwelcomed.
Something odd sat, just below the surface, it took a few beats before he recognised what the emotion was: embarrassment. His mind was on the border of sleep, making it easy for it to slip into his system. When a light peck on the forehead caught him off guard and your figure had faded and blended in. And he didn't care much what or where your location was. It was foreign; odd-even, a strange emotion or foreign notion that was uncomfortable to him, knowing the man so rigid and rarely expressed or revealed his softer, gentler, more caring or vulnerable sides, though not quite opposed to showing it or exploring these new, not exactly unheard of feelings. You had shown a new light, a way of shifting or seeing things. If you had more sessions, the sorcerer feared his self-control was likely to weaken, but as your frame rose and fell, matching his in perfect synchronisation. He concluded that things were not a disaster, he was even unsure of the scale of damage.
That made things worse, despite how exhausted his muscles felt, he hadn't realised how tense his muscles and spine were, though you seemed not to mind as his fingers combed and played with your hair as it danced along his knuckles and it seemed he was doing it mostly out of an odd new habit. When the knot, his brow had formed finally softened or relaxed. A kiss, soft and tender, more tender than anything. As he dozed, drifted to the bliss of unconsciousness, feeling warm and a hint of elation. Not something the man was familiar with or used to. However, a part of him did wonder how many times this would happen. One would call that a spark of hope that lit up his system, leaving him smiling against you, arms tightening in a protective nature before letting himself completely succumb to the lull or gentle tide of slumber.
And maybe. Just maybe, he'd consider allowing that spark to consume and blossom, and bloom into a real genuine connection, which is far more frightening and intimidating to a man like Quan Chi.
A knock woke you both, stirring Quan Chi awake and you couldn't help but wince from how loud the pounding was. Or how abrupt the interruption is. Causing the sorcerer to sit up and glance at you briefly as if looking at you as a way of answering the rudeness or outburst. Or as if he was saying this was an urgent and immediate matter. Not wanting to irritate him any further, you simply groaned before slowly finding a robe to wear to answer the knocking. A glance out the window and the room or landscape shows how long or short you both slept and for a moment or two, it was quiet before the loud knocking once again shook the walls, sounding as if someone was trying to beat them down, causing an echoing. Your shoulders heaved with a sigh, and without thinking too much or realising or thinking about why they were there, you pulled the door open, blinking from the light, almost frying your retinas and robbing your sight. It doesn't take too long for everything to adjust to the different light source from the darkened or shadowy room, and a moment passes before it hits you. Standing on the doorstep of your own room was, Fujin. You must have slept, longer than you thought. There was the nagging, prodding, little voice in the back of your mind and consciousness that wanted to give the air or god a chance to explain or offer some form of explanation.
"Hi?" you try not to squint as you finally stare, your vision settling and your sight finally able to look without straining, the man in question fidgeted a bit and it took a bit longer than you liked or was patient for him, to say what he was thinking, and it dawned on you a second too late, but there was the unspoken truth that he already knew you had been there with the man. Though if he knew anything of what transpired, your instincts screamed not. But a voice whispered it.
"Is... this a bad time," he suddenly stops, swallowing as if there was a lump or a choke. Nervous energy surges through him, and he falters as if his next choice of word or the choice to speak in general hadn't been the smartest move. You stood staring before blinking slowly and for the briefest second. It's hard to keep your posture rigid, having been relaxed as soon as you woke, and your mouth twisted. You can hear soft movement behind you as Quan Chi seems to sneak deeper into your room not wanting to be spotted. Fujin clears his throat, "I just-."
"What's going on Fujin?" you question.
"It's, are you-ok," he lets the air escape his lungs and deflate, with an obvious heaviness or tension and his eyes avert, casting aside the chance or ability to make eye contact as if concerned about something.
"I'm fine Fujin, just had a rough time sleeping. I might stay in bed for a bit longer," you sigh allowing the exhaustion in your voice to be evident to him. His mouth hangs open slightly before quickly and swiftly shutting or closing. Your mind tried to string together the words or phrases, it took everything to refrain and bite back the desire, urge, and impulse to have Quan Chi come to the door and truly let Fujin know why you wished to crawl back into bed. A sort of perverse way to drive the idea into him, that it was perhaps for more than just sleeping, but you decide against it. Something told you Fujin wouldn't look too kindly upon what the actual reason was and you aren't really prepared for an altercation or confrontation with the wind god. It takes a moment as Fujin opens his mouth again as if ready to respond, only he falls silent and glances into your room, before locking gazes, a pause as a soft click is heard from behind you as Quan Chi's footfalls sound. A brow raises on the god as his gaze flickers and shifts again, as his face, flushes or tinges a little, not deep, but noticeable as his fists ball, his mouth setting itself in a straight line as the realisation hit. Your expression shifted a bit and Quan Chi was able to make sense or decipher it, before taking a breath. Fujin's head moves, taking a sharp turn towards the noise, whipping around with a faint glimmer of knowing and that caused his gaze and the look in his eyes to narrow. A flash, no more than a flicker of rage bubbled just under the surface.
"We'll talk later?" Fujin asks though it sounds more like a statement that had a weight to it.
"Yes of course I'll talk to you after I sleep a while longer," it came off rather meek and soft knowing Fujin knew of the other occupant in your room. His chest rises, and his head seems to move back a bit, then forward, stiffening somewhat, but eventually, he seems to drop his shoulders a little, as his posture grows lax and there's another moment or second of silence between the two of you as your companion awkwardly, backs away and is out of the hall or corridor before he replies, the awkwardness or tension seemed to cease the further the God removed himself from the hallway or passage, giving you both space and privacy.
"Take your time," was his only comment, before taking a swift turn and removing his presence and you didn't fail to notice how much he looked like he wanted to rush into your room and murder whoever was in there with you. You take in a deep inhale before sighing heavily, letting the air expel before closing your chamber door, it hadn't been locked but in the current situation, the precaution, while you knew it was probably meaningless, it felt better than standing without anything securing the space. Though a small sense of humour tickles your insides and you can't help but chuckle or laugh.
Quan Chi pauses as if surprised, having only got halfway across the chamber, standing near a wall corner of the bedroom, which housed an archaic-looking lamp, it looked oriental or Middle Eastern of some origin or design but one thing is certain: his current position, he feels more naked, he had foregone or left his armour discarded around your room before Fujin, no- doubt, would have knocked and if the wind god had decided to barge or force his way into the room, the position would've left the sorcerer at a disadvantage or weakness. For now, you don't dare ask if the man was comfortable, his brain seems to be assessing the danger, his ears strained and his senses were fully on high alert and they scanned or swept over the room and surroundings before finally concluding it was a false alarm.
"It's fine, he's gone. I know I'll have to talk to both of my brothers about us now," you groan as you rub your temples as if sensing the migraine that is brewing and on the way. It was something of an upfront thing for you to have done.
"Us?" he raises an eyebrow or quirk.
"You know, you and me? I thought that..." your words die on your lips and you know that isn't exactly the entire truth. What you really want and desire to say is to have it more official, to cement the fact that there's something or a solid foundation of trust or belief, that the sorcerer isn't going anywhere, and is by your side for now, possibly, indefinitely, but there's an indescribable amount of pressure from what he probably wants. You know for a fact that Quan Chi doesn't give his heart to anyone, and now you feel stupid or like a fool for even hoping, that for once, the man could make a decision for his heart or personal interests.
"Do you not think I do not desire this," there's a slightly harsh quality in the tone and there's an exasperated sort of air or vibe about him.
"This isn't me thinking you don't, I just. Are we exclusive? Or can you just go to the next woman you wanted and not feel an ounce of guilt, because to me I'd feel guilty and have a problem with it," you groan and rest your head against the cold hard material, feeling your forehead throb and ache with an ever-increasing pain and sharp sting. The cool texture felt refreshing and was soothing to the frustration in your cranium.
"I feel the same way," he is still unsure if you picked up or missed or did not notice the way his lip quirked a little or how his expression relaxed his brows settled into a flat plane and his fists unclenched. You let out a grunt and tilt your head to look at him for a minute or so, chewing the corner of your lip and your teeth scraping along the bottom skin. It took a little bit, you did wonder if it was an instinct, reaction or defensive measure as your thoughts or pondering caused your hand to creep forward towards him and it found itself at the junction where his neck met his shoulder, feeling along his muscle and you felt him grow tense beneath your touch. Almost immediately he responds or reacts in a different manner as his posture grows slack and loose. As though he can feel the sore muscles and the aching joints, it takes him a beat to realise your tender and compassionate touches as a moan escapes him and he rolls his shoulders and relaxes a bit more.
"Sore?" You tease lightly, not intending any malice, causing Quan Chi to snort or chuckle softly.
"Mm, not used to this sort of thing," the sorcerer hisses slightly at a massaging finger.
"Am I going too hard?" it's a question and you're ready to reduce pressure and slacken the rubbing and digging. You think there's the smallest pout or frown.
"Mhmm, you could go a little firmer," was his suggestion before grunting.
"Was last night a little too much on you," you tease again as you press deeper into his flesh with your finger and knead his neck. He lets out a content groan but otherwise is quiet and almost basks as you seem to go and concentrate your efforts or focus onto his shoulders. A shiver courses through him as you pay close attention to his upper back, he can almost feel the heat radiating from your fingers. His shoulders rise a bit before they droop back down into place and a small puff escapes his lips, letting himself sag into your hands, not entirely relaxed, though mostly so as you shift and move closer. He jolts slightly when you place a gentle kiss on the base of his neck and behind his ear, almost humming, a noise rumbles in his throat and his eyes close almost like a reflex, something warm spreads or blossoms in his system. It's strange; new; unfamiliar. Though oddly welcomed and accepted with open arms. And something almost warm, he would describe it, sparks through him. As a pair of arms wrap around his middle and there's the sensation or feeling of a face being nestled into his back, though a large part of his brain is concerned or anxious, another much, much smaller portion doesn't. Before allowing his breathing to calm your presence and company are the only source of his calm in this instant. You are able to feel his torso and his ribs expand as he inhales before sighing the air out of his system.
"How much time have we actually spent together, not including the 'meetings'" his stomach flutters from your inquiry, or the fact you have the desire and wish, to become closer to him, the fluttering erupts further when he knows it was a good sign or clear message. But the idea of a genuine relationship with him was somewhat terrifying, and not simply because he was a notorious sorcerer. However, it was a factor to be considered. A second passes as he tries to pull something or anything from his brain but realises how slow or foggy his system was working due to fatigue, aside from you, which made his face feel hot.
"Some time, perhaps, enough," he blinks before swallowing thickly, his fingers wrap around one of your hands and he finds himself distracted. The warmth is hard to miss as he grasps or takes it, in both his and somehow, his hands dwarf yours. But even without him actively looking for such a gesture, you still manage to pull him backwards or rather tug, it's light, gentle, and nothing to break from, in fact, he could easily disengage himself from your grip, but he found himself curious about your actions.
"Why don't we go back to bed, just a bit longer," the corners of his mouth twitch and his jaw tightens before he feels another nudge on his back as you try to tug again.
"Just until morning?" he questions and makes an attempt to look over his shoulder and sees how your tired expression as the sleep deprivation catches up and the fatigue looks heavy and noticeable as your posture is slumped and your features are not as rigid or firm. The lack of energy as you merely offer or rather shove a slight, barely noticeable grin to his inquiry. But you can see his expression seems to soften and there's a new tenderness. Not something most would associate with the sorcerer and if a deity or two saw such a display of what is called affection, perhaps they may even be shocked, confused or even disbelieved, you didn't fail or miss the fact he seemed to relax and his eyes soften the slightest amount, the smallest or barely notable change. As you almost manoeuvre the both of you, pulling Quan Chi along who follows, like a lost, wayward dog, letting you guide him to bed, before you're back in the covers, with his head rested upon your chest and your fingers run over his bald, tattooed head, before you curl the blankets and sheets around your bodies, keeping everything snug and secure.
"Go back to sleep," he breathes in your scent, with you lazily pressing a kiss to his skull, before pulling away, taking him along to allow for him to find a place in the darkness. If he had any form of nervousness or apprehension he could feel your fingers moving tracing his tattoos, he would've expected a comment tease, or question about the marks of the brand and its location or existence. Instead, you allowed him to drift off into slumber and only when your breathing turned deep and steady, did the sorcerer allow himself to sleep, the previous night and day catching up, in short, he had had one of his better days in a while or perhaps even years and his body felt better, the soreness and fatigue subsided in a lot of areas. He never knew how cathartic it would feel, the stiffness faded, and it became more of a mild tingling and throbbing in his joints instead.
Eventually, you wake with a groan feeling the sunlight pouring into your room and into your tired eyes. Despite this, however, Quan Chi sleeps beside or more, atop of you. His breathing is easy and deep, and his form is relaxed, muscles no longer taunt or straining. Your mind drifts as your finger moves, following the tattoos that litter his body, the images depicted are from what your brain thinks is ancient and even those that could have had stories behind them were mostly vague or completely gone, forgotten in time, their meanings, their original meanings and purpose no longer something to be told, or spoken or used as an expression and instead, was reserved as a way to hide or conceal, as far as you knew they served no functional or purpose. As his head rested on your chest, you could tell his posture or sleeping form was also tired, but you found the faint rise and fall of his chest against you. You can feel him roll and move against you as his position adjusts. When your hand trails along his shoulder and neck to his back you trace an index along his spinal column before there's the lightest shudder, with him burrowing his face deeper and his skin bumps slightly from the sensations. Your eyes flicker or jump over and note a couple of scars. Your digits eventually trail back down.
It seems to have an almost therapeutic or soothing effect on you and even now and in your mind's eye, it appears Quan Chi could relax. There was the nagging sense in the back of your mind and in the forefront of your mind was a gut-wrenching guilt and something was eating away at the depths of your soul, no doubt. You did dread having to talk with both Raiden and Fujin about how quickly your relationship with Quan Chi had evolved from enemies to this. Part of your brain had to keep reminding the fact that both of your siblings were protective even after your talk. To say or state the truth and express or elaborate your reasons as to why you chose this man specifically. As your fingertips ghost the top of his head your fingers meet the tip or corner of the line as it spans down his spine and over his shoulder blades and for a split second there is some hesitancy. You sigh knowing that even if you had chosen someone else to fall in love with they would have a similar or the exact same conversation. For the moment and until he wakes, you felt you had to begin trying to figure out a strategy of some fashion or plan of action as the wind god may take the information better than the thunder god and then again, maybe not. Fujin, at least, may have a better understanding and perspective. Raiden wouldn't be pleased that you choose Quan Chi after everything he has tried to do and has done to Earthrealm.
The man himself snuggles a little more but otherwise doesn't stir. You lean a little further into him and decide not to move. In the back of your head or somewhere in the depths of your conscience, there is the knowledge and idea, a lingering thought and awareness that this coming conversation with them won't be easy. And knowing you will have to decide which outcome is worse or more preferable.
He is half-conscious, aware you had started gently messaging his scalp again but still too tired to start fully engaging, the slow rise and fall of your chest was an almost calming thing, he'd been comfortable and did not wish to lose or break it. As much as he appreciated and revelled in your touches and kind gestures, there was no doubt he had grown rather accustomed or perhaps too familiar. Yet he still found it hard to let you have control of his vulnerability, the idea and even concept still seemed surreal and hard to believe. The sorcerer moves a little, finding his arms to feel numb but otherwise unharmed and slowly his mind becomes more conscious and coherent, able to put thoughts into words, no longer jumbled. His joints pop a couple of times as he pulls you closer unwilling to let rest leave him yet. Your fingertips tap or move across his scalp in a somewhat random order, there seemed no rhythm or pattern. Although his muscles feel rested and ready his body is stiff.
"Did you sleep well?" you ask with a tired sigh.
"Mhm," his jaw pops lightly.
"Don't want to get up, hm?" You hum softly, slowly wakening yourself further, even if your words are muffled by the blankets. It seemed he might have nodded his head a little as he rolled and stretched the muscles a little, trying to relieve himself from the tightening strain that was holding and seizing his back and core, making his limbs feel more numbed and pricking. He twists slightly, slowly blinking, no doubt trying to rid the sleep and dust that no-doubt, has collected from a heavy sleep or maybe because he just wanted or needed his eyes to get better accustomed or get used to the light that is burning through the window and from the sun. You press the smallest and briefest kiss to the top of his head. There's the lightest huff as a form of reaction before feeling his own face with his hand, no doubt noticing the stubble. Slowly and groggily sitting upright. His breathing is slow and almost calming. Your mind seems to drift before it clicks where exactly he is and slowly, everything else fills in. It's a foreign sensation; as though he were wading in the dark waters being pulled, maybe dragged away, your hold feels solid, reliable, and reassuring. His skin prickles and he almost feels like you have an answer to a question. It is almost eerily peaceful as neither of you wants to or attempts to break or disrupt it, there was an almost hesitancy, an indescribable trepidation before the silence was shattered.
"You know this is the best sleep I've had in, ever? Probably?" You shuffled and the sorcerer propped himself upright with a bit of struggle.
"Good morning to you too," you coo. There is an almost easy calm around both of you. He seemed to lean in close and hover, briefly contemplating, his lips meeting yours in a brief and chaste kiss before a few more quick ones, there was a strange ache, not physical but perhaps something or something related to his soul before he was pulling away and clearing his throat and almost appearing lost or distracted. His breath tickled you, his head almost in the crook between your shoulder and neck, in this instance his back and torso seemed to curl into you, seeking your heat, it seemed to emanate and radiate from him as well, however.
"Not ready to actually get up?" You softly tease in a murmur.
"What time is it, I can't imagine we slept in that long," a deep voice almost growled softly. His arms, the pair of them had moved around you and they seemed to get him closer as well.
"From the looks of the lighting, I'd say early afternoon," you sigh a little.
"Something wrong?" His grip tightens.
"As much as I would love for both you and me to lay here, I know the longer I put off talking to my brothers the worst the outcome is," you lament softly. There was a rumble of sorts.
"Is it just because I am here?" He inquired in his deep and hypnotic tone.
"The mere fact, that I choose you over anyone else is enough to insight their protective anger and possibly something worse,"
"Quan Chi," you lightly reprimanded with no real heat.
"At the end of it, you will have made your choice and they will have to accept it," his tone is confident, to say the least, as well as self-assured, not to mention smug, more so when he moves and lightly ghosts his mouth or lips down your neck and the side, knowing your brothers or at least one wouldn't approve.
"You sound awful confident they won't come looking for you as soon as they know,"
"You act as though they don't already hate or loathe me," his tongue slips from his mouth, and you can almost feel him grinning against the base of your neck and it causes heat to rise.
"If they must vent or rant their feelings and opinions towards me to you, so be it, but they won't change a thing," his voice takes on an edge of cockiness and your hand comes to cup his chin and you make him look to meet your eye. There is a spark in your iris' as you meet his own orbs and you press your mouth onto him, holding him close as he does, for a brief moment you both remain like that, he is pulled closer and he adjusts in the process. There's a noise from somewhere, not either of you. Almost like someone clearing their throat, more of a disapproving tisk, and when you pull apart Quan Chi is greeted by the image or sight of both gods.
"Shit, shit," you mutter under your breath and the sorcerer was quick to cover your naked form with his and the sheets. There's a beat, he wasn't afraid, not of them or anything else really, but rather their reaction. You were correct.
"Care to explain, dear sister?" Raiden asks with a rising tone and thunder cracks in the distance. Your heartbeat picks up. Fujin on the other hand sighs a little.
"How did you both get in here I locked the door!" You squeak back in embarrassment and an edge of accusation.
"I was looking for you, came and checked here first, lucky thing I did" Fujin replied in a scolding or light berating manner.
"We have many things to talk about, especially you, Sorcerer, to say the least," Raiden continues with a lower, albeit seething, growl, directed at Quan Chi who merely stares, unimpressed at him.
"Perhaps, Raiden, calm down first," Fujin whispers to the thunder god. You try your best to hide your embarrassed form under Quan Chi and the sheets wishing you had something more than this covering you.
"Brothers, this is embarrassing enough, why not let Quan Chi and I get dressed? " They both remain unmoved. You sigh and sit up clutching the sheets tightly to you covering your naked form.
"Well, we can wait outside, you've got ten minutes," Fujin stated before yanking and pulling the thunder god with him, without an ounce or semblance of protest. Leaving you two alone in the bedroom once more.
"That went far better than I thought,"
"You have a funny and weird way of looking at things," you grumble, an edge to your tone, perhaps you were a bit overwhelmed with both their sudden and almost hostile presence. You quickly get out of bed, somewhat shaken and unnerved to realise you can still feel the sorcerer's gaze boring into your form. You resist the urge to either run or cower to the corner.
"It could've gone worse," he retorts in a light manner.
"Get dressed," you reply tossing his chestpiece at him which he catches easily, you miss the fact his orbs are drawn towards your curves and bare skin. Even still your posture and form show or suggest you're embarrassed as he watches you step into your panties. He snaps out of it, once more and can only marvel and adore that the woman in front of him had chosen to pursue him. It was an odd sense of comfort or something or a few other sensations, that he was still becoming familiar with. In any case, the sorcerer lets his eyes fall before dressing. He tries his best not to stare but his gaze does wander. When the pair of you had finished dressing, the thunder god and the wind god waited outside for you to meet up with them. Raiden's anger and disapproval are so tangible you could taste and feel it in the air. Once in front of them, Fujin gets straight to business.
"Come we'll speak somewhere private and on neutral ground," Fujin continues before Raiden growls a little but allows himself to be pulled away. Quan Chi glances towards you a curious spark or flash in his orbs, there seems to be a reluctance to move away. He finds his movements slowing and he lets himself fall in pace with you as you step together. For whatever reason, you're thankful for his presence, and when your fingertips brush, his eyes jump towards your own for a brief and fleeting instance, it's then he realises your palms are pressed together and there is something akin to a shiver and a slight tension within and running from you throughout his system as you link hands. Your grip is tight and shaky. You offer him a small or sheepish smile which he returns, albeit it is barely noticeable, to an outside viewer. You hear the thunder god's protests, of your union, as both Fujin and Raiden vanish through a door, which slams and when he turns back he eyes you both.
"Quan Chi you are fortunate my sister is the woman she is or else I would do worse than kill you," he hisses.
"This has nothing to do with you," Quan Chi fires back and before a brawl can erupt or an argument can escalate or begin, you are quick to step between the two of them. You attempt to act as an almost mediator.
"Raiden, please listen, I chose this willingly, and my choice will not be changed," there is conviction and defiance, strength, resolve and sternness to the manner in which your words carry, however, it's what happens after and what occurs next that does and has an effect. Raiden's gaze turns icy away from you and towards Quan Chi.
"Your words hold no meaning or weight. What has possessed or taken control of you my sister, to allow a demon to use and take advantage of your vulnerability? Not once but multiple times? Does your desperation know no end? No bounds or restrictions? No sense of decency or regard? What sort of debauched or wicked games do you have my sister caught in? What sort of seductress do you take her for? Or would that imply you would stop or cease this twisted behaviour?" He snarls viciously. Quan Chi's fingers brush and trace over the veins on your hand and wrists, something to reassure him perhaps? Raiden's powers flicker as he seems to be losing his own temper at this unholy sight before him.
"Remove your hands from my sister at once Quan Chi. She is a pure being, who has shown you and others far too much patience, empathy and mercy than is deserved. Is a sick and perverse, unholy creature such as yourself aware of or capable of understanding that you do not deserve her compassion or her attention in the slightest? Let go, and leave at once," The sorcerer's eye narrows at the god before him as his grip only seems to tighten. It seems he is defying or at least blatantly ignoring the thunder god's orders, he looks away.
"She made a choice Raiden, support her. You have made choices she's hated and argued with you about, but she still loves and supports you. Stop this before it gets any more out of hand!" Fujin attempts to appeal and plead with his older brother. But instead of cooling his rage, he makes him madder. He says something or a series of things you weren't quite expecting and to a degree, Quan Chi wasn't either.
"In the end, my dear sister, Fujin and I are the only family you have. Quan Chi, on the other hand, is a spawn of Shinnox magic, no matter what he claims, he was designed to be a cold uncaring killer who steals souls," at this moment you feel a tremor run through the sorcerer's frame and his orbs lock and meet yours. For a split second, a millisecond perhaps you sense or feel a faint sense of grief and vulnerability as a dark aura begins swirling around him before he releases your hand gently guiding you behind him in a protective manner. You can't help yourself, your arms instinctively latch around the man. You hold him from behind and you nuzzle into him. Quan Chi, meanwhile, eyes Raiden, not moving, letting his expression be the only thing visible one of his hands covers yours in a comforting way. He refuses to allow the man the pleasure or satisfaction of seeing him fazed.
"So this is what you'll choose to make a stand for? The very man who would destroy our reality with no care or regard for us? So, sister, does our familial bond hold no more weight in the heart of your choice?" Raiden hissed. Fujin was quick to respond, again before a fight broke out.
"We have talked about this Raiden. It's time we gave our sister the space and opportunity to figure things out on her own and decide, she's an adult! She isn't the small child we took in over 20 years ago, she's a strong woman," Fujin is trying to hold back the other god as well. Your fingers and body language seem to show, perhaps, even try to apologise to Quan Chi. Your brows scrunch together as your face is pressed into Quan Chi's spine below his shoulder blades. You make an almost silent whine, which the man responds to by gliding and brushing a finger against yours. His finger is warm. Raiden turns his attention to you, his expression softens just a smidge at the sight of you.
"We may not see the man or rather demon that you do, or share the same bond with him, but you have, of course, the right to decide your own life," Fujin begins a softer tone at the sight of you. Quan Chi seems to give the other god the briefest of nods.
"Out of everyone you possibly could choose you had to pick this, this beast!" Raiden starts up again with a pained tone.
"The main thing we're here for is to check you're alright, and tell us, if, at any point you need help," Fujin continued before making sure the thunder god wasn't being hasty. The two gods stare intently, and the sorcerer, Quan Chi, flicks his eyes back and forth between your brothers briefly, finally registering that, you three do in some form, or way, share a family bond. You slowly pull away from Quan Chi, shaking a little. Fujin moves in to steady you but Quan Chi intercepts, despite the obvious tension between the two males. Raiden grumbles under his breath, clearly unhappy. Quan Chi holds onto and steadies you, all the same, Raiden, snarls or growls slightly in the process.
"As much as I'm aware Quan Chi and Raiden will continue to argue, I believe what he's trying to express, is the idea that he does in fact care or worry about your well-being," Fujin states in his usual and perpetual gentle tone.
"I know you both care! That's why I feared telling you about how I felt about Quan Chi! Why I like my privacy! I knew you'd react like this Raiden! I-I just can't handle the thought of losing both my brothers and my partner because of..of-," your voice cracks as tears fight to escape your eyes. You can't help the sobs that rip through you as you spew your distressed thoughts and fears about losing all of them because of your relationship, choices, feelings, opinions, and everything in between. The three men present, all feel a mild twinge of concern at the sight. As they watch your distress increases tenfold. Quan Chi offers a glare, specifically to the thunder god and somehow it seemed to be effective because the other was now looking at you as you shook with each hyperventilating breath and sob left you. Quan Chi held you closer as if to let you hide in his arms and chest while you sobbed. He was a bit unsure, at first, a tad hesitant if holding you back in such a way, perhaps the proximity of it, or just your closeness would cause and ignite further issues or discontent amongst the brothers. Nevertheless, you did seem a tiny bit at ease by being shielded or protected and concealed by the sorcerer. You move without thinking, he knows because he felt you grab and hug him tightly as if begging him to not leave or let go. You tuck your face into the crook or nape of his neck, causing a strange warmth to fill his chest as he feels a shudder wrack and course through your frame, he can hear a faint sniffle, as your grip becomes tighter. Fujin sighs a little and is quick to provide reassurance and comfort.
"Of course, we'd still care for you even after learning such news," he states simply and the fact it was him offering up the sentiment caused you to whimper more in despair, perhaps due to his naturally soothing and calming disposition. Raiden offers his piece.
"No matter the extent of your relations with this demon, I cannot abandon or forget my little sister," he sighs an edge to his own tone or the manner in which his words are spoken. Fujin approaches the pair and lets his fingers graze your arm. A soft and quiet coo sounds out, albeit a tad muffled from Quan Chi's chest. It wasn't Fujin's intention to cause you to crumble like this, although the wind god felt a pang of guilt, a weight on his shoulders at your tears.
"I'm-I'm sorry, you two," your voice is small, soft, meek, and almost shaky as you mumble into Quan Chi's frame. Fujin tussles your hair slightly in the sweetest way.
"You have nothing to be sorry about sister. In fact, it should be us apologising," Quan Chi glanced towards the wind god, who at least had the decency or common courtesy, to avoid meeting the sorcerer's gaze, and made a grunt, almost clearing his throat in response.
"I'm just-just afraid I'll lose one or all of you, I'm so so-orry!" your speech is broken by fresh waves of cries and sniffles, the two gods look over you and glance briefly at Quan Chi who resists the urge to shake his head. You pull away slowly to be met with sympathetic orbs. Quan Chi brushes a few stray tears, one at a time, ever so gently and with a touch only reserved for you. You tilt your head into his hand seeking his touch and comfort and when the pad of his thumb dabs and catches a stray tear you cling to him once more as another sob rips out from the back of your throat. Quan Chi glances again and there's something, or an undeniably heavy sense of guilt on their faces. For the first time ever they saw you a broken shell of a woman crying in the arms of a man they'd deemed an enemy, a menace, a despicable person, a monster or whatever it was they used to describe him. After a moment or two the sobs stop and your whines reduce to an occasional whine or whimper. Your heart flutters again. Once it settled the feelings and emotions had become dull and the three had exchanged more or rather the four of you shared a civilised discussion regarding your dynamic moving forward especially once the two gods became aware of just what was transpiring between yourself and the sorcerer. You notice there is some hesitancy and stiffness present in the sorcerer's expression, especially when he realised your brothers were attempting or acting at the very least to understand and accept, regardless of whether they were forcing themselves to or not. By this stage, Raiden had somewhat mellowed about the situation hesitant to say something to set off another fit of sobs from you. After breathing enough to calm down to listen and communicate properly, you practically begged them to give Quan Chi and you a chance. All you could offer in response to any argument they'd raise was the fact, that it had always been their policy or method and motto, that a person deserves at least the chance of being saved or redeeming themselves. Raiden was reluctant, having sensed your sadness before this revelation was one of the worst ordeal he'd ever experienced, that is until this whole situation. Then, he had seen firsthand, the nature of your union and the way the sorcerer looked at you. A fraction or a mere millimetre of softness crossed his features, at the notion, as well as at your words. There was some form of consideration. You sense the sorcerer has this guarded look, not much but a very noticeable flicker of protectiveness. A small yet barely audible grumble or mutter or perhaps a complaint is all that could be heard before the thunder god spoke up.
"Fine," there is a coldness to the single word which causes you to shake again. He eyes you, knowing the reason, not willing, or allowing himself, to make amends or apologise to or even acknowledge the man before him. At the very least Fujin acknowledged him in that brief second, offering the most fleeting of nods and an acknowledging glance before he continued.
"He is not welcome in Earthrealm unless you are there as well. I still do not trust him with my little sister," his stern voice caused you to gulp a tad as your body rocked as he finished speaking.
"Fair," was Quan's simple response as his own gaze now snapped towards the thunder god and there was a definite look of determination or protectiveness crossing his orbs. You nod a little, the most timid of nods, just a sign of understanding. A sound was heard as you guessed your older brother had more to say.
"My sister, be careful, if he proves anything less than loyal then don't hesitate to let me know, the second you feel he isn't," his eyes turn dark and his words, the undertone of the way his voice carried sent chills down your spine. Fujin appears to pick up and notice, interjecting immediately with a series of objections as well as reminding his brother that, again, you were capable and sensible enough to know the limits. There were further discussions on the subject which somehow had only served to wind your sibling up more. By the time the discussion was ending, Raiden was just seething with anger. When they had finally bid you goodbye, his glare was icy cold.
"Until we speak or meet again little sister," Fujin smiled and hugged you warmly and in a brotherly way as if to apologise for not having any means to sway or talk down the elder male.
"I'll see you soon Fujin, probably while watching Liu Kang win the tournament," he snorted, not arguing the point and releasing you as he went off with his older brother. Quan Chi relaxed for a moment or two and drew you closer into an embrace, not because the situation was all tense, but it seemed as if his arms were aching for you to occupy his space and he was desperate to quell his concern, both of which came into full fruition. Quan Chi's fingers eased and moved to comb through your hair, again in a tender, calming, comforting way. His fingers rubbed at your scalp a tad and your heart swelled with joy, grateful at the manner in which his fingertips relaxed, soothed, and teased through the threads of hair at the top of your head. In doing this, he was pulling or encouraging you to lean more into him and against him.
"Hey," there is that beautiful voice you love, it was like listening to a siren's call. It beckoned, hypnotised and charmed you so easily. The way his silken smooth tones seemed to wrap themselves around and captivate your heart like a lullaby.
"Hmm?" you utter lazily a slight drowsy sensation threatening to take hold. He looks at you with something of a soft expression, for once, his touch is even more delicate, and the atmosphere surrounding him is positively relaxed. His voice seems more musical in a way that, somehow, lulled and sang the worries or doubts right out of you. Your heart seemed to flutter within and you swallowed hard. He chuckles low and softly as a shiver, coursed through and across your body. The fingers trailing and massaging your scalp pause their task and instead shift to caress your cheek.
"Do your brothers usually fuss so much over you?" you blink owlishly at him as the pad of his thumb smooths across your skin, tender, caring and kind.
"Unfortunately yes, yes they do especially Raiden," you sigh as your hands which found their resting place at the nape of his neck, unconsciously began smoothing massage his own.
"I can't decide which is the bigger or stronger force to be reckoned with, him or Fujin," it's the same tone of chuckle you've fallen madly in love with.
"Tch," the single word is barely audible. You snort a laugh. The way his muscles work under your palm is lovely and sends a lovely sensation through you as you smile in satisfaction.
Earthrealm had won the tournament, and you had gone back home. The interaction between you and your partner was slow, or more steady than fast-paced. Although you knew deep down it was probably for the better and you were happy for the time spent connecting, learning things about each other and enjoying it together, it didn't stop the moments of yearning and lust bubbling beneath the surface. The times it bubbled over had become more rare after the tournament. You blame the multiple times on high adrenaline from such an event. You're always surprised to see him when he does come to Earthrealm to visit you, though he refuses to let you come to the Netherrealm. Each and every time, you get the flutters or a lightness in the stomach and feel all fuzzy and giggly. Not to mention the rush of excitement at feeling his arms pull and tug you into him or when his lips press firmly against yours. The small gifts or letters he sends you through small portals when he can't be there in person.
You had begun getting restless or antsy more, now it was approaching the winter solstice and you'd, unfortunately, received no word from him, no sign, no word or no indication, which for you wasn't a great sign, and you couldn't help thinking the worst. This only fueled and accelerated the longing. You know he's capable of taking care of himself but you can't help but worry. There is an aspect or two about him, which you, nor does anyone else understand or know, although in a way that had always fascinated you, like a mystery to unravel and decode or some other method of processing. In the dead of the night, as you lay awake, you found your mind often straying to thinking of how he might look during different phases of the day. While in this state the sensation of arms tightening around your torso the breath against your ear and the hint of stubble which tickles your ear and cheeks, snaps you out of your fantasising state.
"Forgive me, love." That gorgeous velvety-toned voice rings and resonates inside your mind. Your heart flutters all over again. You roll quickly to see those wonderful eyes.
"Quan Chi," you manage, seeing him clearly and your mind wanders as it usually does. Your hands seek and find his face tracing the cheekbone and the outline.
"Hmph.." his lips press a quick peck to your cheek. Your eyes trace and seem to study his facial features for a moment. You couldn't decide whether the shadows under his eyes were dark or the bags underneath just were. You felt a twinge in your gut and couldn't resist leaning over, your fingers curling slightly around the fabric as you tried not to rip and destroy the top half he'd stolen from your laundry. You frowned for a second and noticed and felt how cold he was as your body collided and pressed into his.
"Where have you been? You're cold to the touch," you begin to fuss or at the very least fret over his condition as your lips follow the contours of his features. You shiver slightly as you try to draw or coax more warmth from his own body. You rest your forehead on his and brush and run your hands down his arms trying to ease, relieve or attempt to warm his rigid or frigid form, "You were worried?" he seems a little surprised as he peers at you his eyelids drooping from exhaustion and fatigue.
"I have and was worried sick," you state firmly as your fingers shift again to cup and stroke his cheek.
"Ah well it seems I have underestimated the consequences, your presence can have on me," he states smoothly, earning a scowl as you roll your eyes at his comment or the fact that you believed he was trying to brush aside your concern. He pulls or shifts in an instant, you couldn't have protested if you tried and he caught and took charge of the kiss in a heartbeat, his arms shifting or adjusting as your own automatically hook around the back of his head as he moves and nudges his legs in between your own. He seems to smirk or grin as his body and mind are motivated by something entirely selfish or based purely on carnal need. You gasp and can't help the blush that crept onto your features as a wave of heat passes over your cheeks and pools in a warm buzzing feeling. You arch a brow at him, a gesture he would have clearly ignored as your cheeks are flush. His body weight causes your back to press into the bed.
"Oh no you don't, not until I get answers Quan Chi, and not until you're not freezing to the touch," his hand travels up to tease the area above the hemline of the shorts you've taken to wearing and his eyes, while tired seem a tad bit more alive, vibrant or just rejuvenated with the mere fact of having your company and proximity.
"Heh..you make an adequate point," he rolls onto his back, or perhaps that was your idea, either way, it made you a tad bit suspicious. You frown, he's being incredibly docile.
"What's wrong you're far more reserved, quiet or muted than normal, is something troubling you," a twinkle comes across his eyes.
"Of course, nothing is bothering me, you worry too much." You give him a knowing look while pushing him away as if to get up and leave. He groans loudly, rolling his eyes in annoyance. You fight a giggle at the expression or the pout.
"Can't you simply not pester or interrogate me, for one night at least," he groans louder again as he rolls his eyes at you and you cock an eyebrow.
"I haven't seen or heard anything from you in months, I think I deserve some answers, I want the truth." He chuckles slightly at the statement as the room grows dim again. He shivers and tenses slightly and you watch closely to note how he shakes violently, no wonder he was complaining, but as usual, the stubborn sorcerer never outright explained anything, preferring to evade or ignore your inquiries or attempts to get answers.
"Fine, be stubborn then," your words hold some minor frustration. His eyes trace your movements as he realises what he should have done before, something to avoid this all and allow himself to just give in. You leave the room for a moment, thinking about bringing him warm tea and grabbing a thicker blanket. As soon as you come back in he's laying in bed with his back to you, a sheet covering most of him, and you know better, but still approach him from behind, throwing the thicker cover over him and kneeling in the bed. When a chill runs down his spine, it isn't from cold, as the blanket is dropped to the floor and you find a slightly agitated man facing and watching you intently. You only make eye contact for a mere moment.
"I brought you some tea, and the blanket you've rudely tossed onto the floor," your tone is teasing, you really want the response and answers, especially from the way he's acting. Again there isn't a reply. He simply stays silent his orbs fixed on yours and his expression one of determination. His eyes seem to soften for a split second at your gesture.
"And I'll be using the other blankets and coverings here since you clearly don't intend to share the quilt," the last statement almost sounded like you wanted him to protest as your mouth curled into a playful grin.
"Might want to come under here if you know what's good for you my love," he makes an attempt to be threatening as his hand gestures for you to move closer, your stubborn attitude only intensifying and his amusement only increasing as he reaches forward just missing you as you took a step back.
"Tea," you say holding the cup out to him before continuing.
"Unless you're up to answering questions, I'm not coming any closer, and you won't be able to be frisky," it was the challenge with a light teasing and a small amount of sarcasm in your voice.
"What was that?" you cock a brow a smug smirk flashing on your face at his displeasure and apparent desire, his lips curl into a smirk, his eyes following the movement before responding.
"You heard me. Now come here," the serious tone sends a slight shiver through you. His lips twitch as your stomach turns as he tries to gain control.
"No," you reply simply a snarkiness evident in your response and the tone and your amusement showing through.
"You're pushing my limits now.." his eyes narrowed the orbs gaining a mischievous glint. You don't respond just raise an eyebrow again.
"Wouldn't be the first time," your remark comes easily, and his smirk deepens a touch before his eyebrow arched slightly and a quiet hmph follows the expression. A slight twang in the gut and you swallow as he relaxes slightly.
"Well, if we're going to have a stalemate you'll be sorry, mark my words," his words were clearly a warning, of what is to come.
"Oh, I'm so scared of my sorcerer whose body is ice cold to the touch and won't tell me why he hasn't even written me a letter in close to 4 months," your joking tone died quickly as your own irritation showed how unimpressed you where with him. His lip twitches.
"Fine, don't answer me," you say after losing your patience with him leaving the bedroom and shutting the door slightly rougher than you meant to.
"Shit." Was his immediate reaction. He could hear your footsteps walking down the hall away from him. You end up heading into your study. The lights flicker a second, then remain on. You pay no heed as you pick up the cup and drink. There's a slight whine, and he peers out and sees you sit down in a comfortable armchair with a thick blanket, he lets out a displeased sound and you don't look at him or even acknowledge his presence. You have had enough of this strange game. He steps out of the bedroom fully and makes sure his steps are deliberately loud so you're aware of his presence.
"Now you've made me chase you," he says firmly as you hold his cup and he stops and just gives you an odd look, even as he speaks you don't respond. A thick leather-bound book is far more open and interesting than he's being.
"Look at me," his voice lowers, the voice holds a scolding quality that you don't, just flipping to the next page and taking a sip from your drink.
"Look. At. Me." Again, there is no response from you, but a scowl appears. The glass is left on the table and as you sit in the chair with the blanket and your back leaning against a pillow that you stuffed behind you and the chair. You begin reading from the book you grabbed from the desk. His hand is placed on top of the book.
"Remove your hand, I wish to read, " you finally say not even flinching or pulling away from him as his eyes seem to sharpen and the eyes grow hard, his gaze seems to say to him he could do little to change the course of the night.
"Then look. At. Me. And answer the question," his words are louder than last time. He steps back. You simply, pick your cup back up, take a sip then turn to the next page.
"You made your bed now lay in it Quan Chi," you reply in a calm cold tone, enjoying your book. If he wanted to be an ass you'll treat him as such. You know the bastard knows exactly what he did wrong and won't apologize; that damn pride of his. You feel him come closer; the blanket is suddenly pulled off the back of the chair you're in as he yanks it. Your brow twitches, but you keep ignoring him. All he has to do is apologize and just tell you where he's been, then he'll get the attention and affection he wants. For once in his existence, he understands a bit of regret, but to say the words is an impossible thing, at least that's what his pride says. He says something, his tone holding a plea, begging for some semblance of forgiveness or mercy. Still, you remain stubbornly silent, simply putting your book down on the small wooden table on the right side of the chair.
"Stop acting like this and answer," his voice rises, but your gaze stays directed towards the page in front of you. In annoyance, he tries another route. He picks up the book, drops it to the ground, and then glares down at you. You knew he'd do that and grab another book from the bookshelf next to you, still not looking at him.
"Don't make me force the issue," his tone grows softer as you simply flip to a new page and smile as you start reading.
"Hmm," your brows furrow, "Oh how interesting," you comment about a new fact, "Most men are too stubborn and prideful to apologize to their doting partners who only want to make sure they are okay," you say your eyes glued to a book about archaeology, nothing to do with your statement. He actually begins pacing in front of you like a child, huffing and giving an agitated noise as you take a moment to breathe.
"Look at me!" He repeats again in a louder voice, which cracks slightly. You act oblivious, almost as if he is invisible. He watches you, and your mind can tell the room has grown dim again. You squirm and can't help but be self-aware because he's watching your every move so carefully.
"Damn woman, say something," he curses his eyes flashing for a few seconds, as he watches you.
"Apologize to me, tell me why I haven't heard from you in months, and tell me why you're ice cold to the touch when you live in the Netherrealm the hottest realm out there," you reply in a melancholy tone, not looking up from your book. He rubs his eyes, the tone of your voice causing him a bit of guilt and making him slightly unnerved. He waits a few moments in silence. His body seems tense. He slouches as the posture changes.
"Will you answer me, please," he finally asks in a desperate tone.
"No. I refuse. Not until I get answers from you, unless of course, you're not interested in getting this answered or having a partner. If that's the case you are welcome to leave." You feel his scowl at your back, and your face remains blank. You don't pay attention when he leaves and comes back with a pillow and his own book, intent on not saying or apologizing and not giving in to the argument, and instead using the other chair as the couch is taken up by a pillow and blanket that had been dumped there when he grabbed the pillow. He seems almost ashamed, as you go back to focusing on the book. It was almost as if the fight had just gone out of both of you. He couldn't be so childish he was a grown man. Although a rather stubborn and headstrong man. He focuses on his book and decides he could, with the bit of patience you held for him, manage to wait the argument out. There's another slight flicker, and the electricity dies. Your attention is caught, as your gaze shifts away from the pages. You sigh softly standing to go check to see if it's just the breaker or an actual power outage. You don't say anything as you leave the room. His eyes follow you, but he doesn't look away. You search through the cellar and switch the breaker. Nothing.
"Why me?" you groan, in frustration, you would have to light a candle or two.
"Good thing I lit the fire," he states a bit snidely, and your brow twitches, the book in your hand as you head back upstairs to your study. You say nothing as the power should hopefully come back soon enough.
"Come sit next to the fireplace," his words surprise you slightly. The tone was much softer than you'd ever heard it, but that was just him; the same attitude with a softer tone or vice versa, like when his eyes followed your movements. You ignore him and head to your room, shutting and locking the door behind you. You place your book down as you put on more layers to stay warm. His feet seem to lightly trail the hall, coming to the door. You say nothing.
"Y/n.. are you alright?" He's using the name only for times of tenderness or to earn forgiveness. You're tempted to say yes. Instead, you bury yourself in a bundle of blankets in bed, candles lit to add a nice atmospheric light, and your book in your hands again. The book is getting more interesting as time passes.
"Damn you," it's his own form of sulking. You huff in annoyance, if he wanted to sulk and be cold, then fine. He could use one of the guest rooms for all you cared. In his head, he was having the internal battle of not saying sorry.
"Just when I think I have a firm grasp on what will and will not make him snap and what to watch for." There are moments he gets lonely when it gets this quiet, but he usually sulks alone in a chair or bed reading or listening to a musical performance on some device you managed to teach him to use. Sometimes that's what he liked to do while trying to ignore or avoid you so you couldn't force the truth out of him.
"I suppose we can both play these silly games." He grumbles a bit louder when he walks down the hall to the guest room closest to him, which is the furthest down the hallway. You ignore him and wonder what his goal was with the childishness, his petty attempt at remaining dominant. He walks away a lot, not necessarily to spite or punish you.
"You stubborn man." You stay up until dawn and hear him stir again and the power goes on and off at inconsistent intervals. It almost appears, despite everything, he's the stubborn one. Once daylight breaks, you can't keep your eyes open. You close the book and roll onto your side closing your eyes and napping through the morning, only waking as the clock rings a soft gentle chime and the morning chill starts fading. There's a pitter-patter outside and a soft tapping against the windowpanes. A soft breeze whistles gently by as you sit up and stretch and rub the sleep away. Outside it's still fairly cold and probably a snowstorm, meaning the heat might go out again. Your breath comes out foggy as a shiver course through you. You wrap yourself in a thick duvet as your bare feet hit the hardwood floor and you shiver as you find a pair of socks and slippers. You try a light switch; the power is still out.
"Great." The soft light of dawn casts shadows over the dark walls. Despite the heat of the fireplace being lit from last night it still felt cold. You walk over to feed wood to the fire hoping for it to warm you. Your robe was discarded by a chair last night and quickly put on to avoid a chill as the cold breeze caused a shiver. There was the light and consistent scent of the candle. You move a strand of hair away from your face, yawning, and trying to rid your system of tiredness. You hear his voice calling you. He seems almost anxious as a louder set of footsteps is heard. You stay silent as you poke at the flames. You want to make sure everything is dry enough to burn. There was a groan, almost the type given when annoyed or exasperated, it was the familiar deep husky one. He soon stands in the doorway. His eyes seem to widen when he sees you are up, and he turns away. It was like he hadn't really known you would be there or been prepared to see you. He takes his first step, but there's a large creak. You pause at the sound and realize how cold and desolate your estate seems.
"Are you going to apologize or have you decided to keep being a child?" You ask while keeping the fire stoked not looking at him. He could easily say whatever he wanted. If not that then, he could just ignore it and walk out of the room, his lips part, and his mind feels as if he's gotten a shock, yet a slow response of his pride still stalls any form of an apology from escaping. His stomach twists and as much as he tries, he finds the words will not, nor can, leave his lips, they have refused to come out in a fashion he could call polite or sincere.
"Yes," he hesitantly responds. He knows this has gone on for far too long. The electricity flickers once more as if acknowledging his comment. He refuses to look directly at you and he sighs loudly.
"Really, and what for?" you're curious to see how the sorcerer could worm his way out of this.
"I'll never hear the end of it will I," his words seem strained, as if forcing out each word is a difficulty for him. "Possibly." You reply blankly. You glance out a window noting the snow is turning into ice. The man stiffens slightly his hand gripping the doorway hard, his jaw clenching.
"Fine." He relaxes slightly and swallows before he takes a deep breath.
"I'm sorry," you pause a moment but decide to accept the apology, "It was difficult to not hear from you. I worry." The slight softness in your tone seemed to take him aback and made his stiff shoulders relax.
"Why?" His words are full of vulnerability and an emotion you can't quite place. You look up, surprised. You just gave him your answer.
"Because I love you, you stubborn asshole!" You reply your voice slightly louder as if trying to fill the room and your expression changes and your anger and worry mix. He pauses his expression unreadable before turning slightly, a sheepish look flashes briefly over his face. He can feel a small stab of guilt inside, it's similar to a sensation that tugs at his chest. He steps fully into the room and sighs, looking for the right words, perhaps an excuse. His eyes dart towards his feet for a second before a strange, though rather quiet, laugh escapes him. Your head tilted your expression surprised to see him so flustered. He rubs a hand down the side of his face.
"If you need an answer... Then perhaps," he trails off his pride apparently still attempting to stay intact.
"Well..." He trails off once more as you continue to stare. His hands seem to fidget with the leather on his forearms. "Just come sit by the fire before you freeze your ears off," you say exasperated, motioning to a spot by the fireplace.
"Right." The chuckle was uneasy, and his face turned more and more red in embarrassment as he came over and sat cross-legged beside you, with an almost guilty expression. As you stir the burning logs once more, a soft orange glow covers half of his face, and his crimson eyes reflect the sparks rising off the top. They flutter as they disappear. You put the iron back on the wall and sit down once you see him begin to shiver, even as he does not notice his own change in temperature. His robes must be slightly chilled with his trip. The movement doesn't escape his eyes as he turns away his brow furrowing.
"Care to tell me, where you've been the last 8 months or why you've returned freezing? Is this some form of reverse torture to punish me for something," you ask hoping for at least an answer as his eyes have yet to leave his gaze on you. His hands twitch a moment before turning and grabbing yours, holding them tight, his breath coming out in a white fog. There's a pained look across his features.
"You'll think me crazy," He mutters.
"I'm already mad to love a man who can control revenants. Now try me." His face was even a deeper shade of red at the mention, as you moved closer and used the warmth and the friction to bring the two of you heat.
"And while you're at it. Why are you ice-cold," You ask, gently rubbing his fingers as if to try to bring heat back into them. You use the hem of your skirt to cover his hands to insulate the warmth from you. His shoulders drop and his jaw slightly slackens at the gesture, an air of comfort filling the room.
"Where to start," his tone was almost weary, it would take a while to explain, yet part of him was almost eager to get this off his chest, "It's simple." He lets out a rather exasperated sigh. You look up at him patiently, but a twinge of curiosity flashes across your expression, not leaving his gaze. He goes to speak, the words dying in his mouth as a small sigh comes out instead, and a hint of uncertainty appears.
"Go on.." You encourage as there's a glimmer in his eye.
"It's a complicated explanation, I overworked magic, attempting to use new spells to overthrow Shao Kahn. Unfortunately, Ermac found me in the living forest. After a long battle I... Went back to the Netherrealm to lick my wounds. I haven't fully recovered yet. I was gone, resting for months to recover my powers, too weak to even send you a letter through a small portal." It was the most honest answer he would give, and in truth, you didn't want more detail as you moved and brought him closer to the fire so you could cover him up in blankets. He reluctantly cooperates, feeling a slight wave of affection at the care given. You manage a slight smile.
"This, this is why I worry about you. You're always welcome to recover here you know that you prideful bastard," you say as you squeeze him a little harder a light, quiet chuckle vibrates from within his chest, and a rare soft smile makes its way to his features. A look of vulnerability is revealed behind the usual stoic glare.
"So you'll get warmer once you've recovered correct?" you ask hoping you would get him at least halfway healthy.
"Yes." He sounded rather shy in admitting that. He shivers lightly in the warmth, trying to cover it up.
"Right. I can't have my dear Quan Chi killing himself by overdoing his spells," you say with a light joking tone. There was a deeper, almost intimate quality to the words, a subtle acceptance of each other that he gives an exasperated grunt in agreement. The quiet almost pensive mood falls between the two of you for a few seconds.
"Come on, the floors are too cold. I'll just light the fireplace up in my room, it feels too cold to be awake right now. I know my bed if far more comfortable than the hardwood. Sleep," you urge, not wanting to be separated or him to wander alone. With the wind making a rattling noise as it blows against the walls, his body visibly shaking in the cold. The weather outside only appeared to get colder. His muscles seem tight as they shake. He sighs lightly and leans against you. He nods his head ever-so-slightly in agreement and follows close behind. He flops onto the bed before you make the bed with several blankets. You use your magic to keep a fire going in your bedroom fireplace. The heat and warmth slowly begin to permeate and rise above the chill in the air. The man brings himself closer, giving a gentle shiver and his eyes shut tightly, and a slightly grim expression covers his features.
"I can see if I have anything that isn't leather armour for you to wear," you tease gently, sitting down next to him. He gives a light snort in protest. There's an amused tilt to the corner of his mouth. He takes another few breaths as the fire continues to crackle. You walk over to your closet and begin trying to find anything that might fit him, he's far taller than you so it's going to be a challenge. Eventually, you find an old sweater that seemed to grow in the wash, and a pair of sweatpants Fujin bought you without looking at the size.
"Here these should be better than your armour, at least to warm you up," You say and hold them out to him. You don't care how silly or dishevelled he looks.
"Not all my outfits are leather," He huffs in mild offence, but a wry grin appears, the gesture almost appearing teasing, "And it's not the outfit that's cold. Only my flesh."
"I know, but being more covered will help you retain body heat," you reply as a shiver is sent through you and your fingers shake as the chill catches up with you. He carefully moves the leather on his shoulder a bit lower, letting the collar fall enough to show his neck, the expanse of skin between his chest and jaw exposed. His arms seem to stiffly pull apart the armour piece by piece. A dusting of scars appears on his neck, shoulders, chest, and arms as it's gradually removed. You pick up the pieces of armour and place them carefully to one side as they are removed. His toned skin has a multitude of scars littering the expanse. From the moment his ribs are fully visible to the second he stands fully before you in only his undergarments, you know that man, that body. You know he's muscular but his pale skin looks so cold. His lips look paler, his skin feels cooler than it is. You hold the clothes in front of him and he doesn't look phased in the slightest.
"We need to warm you up and preferably quickly." You can't stop thinking of him becoming hypothermic. He accepts the clothes, slipping on the pants, shirt, and sweater, before promptly sprawling himself back in the warm bed, closing his eyes again and asking "Who did these belong to?"
"They're mine, the sweater grew and stretched in the wash, the pants Fujin bought me not knowing my size, and the shirt I got in a thrift shop." You watch as he rests for a moment, the corners of his lips pulling slightly. You go back and shut the closet before walking towards the bed. He didn't move a muscle as he listened, only opening an eye and shifting under the heavy duvet as he lay under it and the multiple other blankets.
You pull the layers back enough to sit on the bed before slipping out of your slippers and into bed curling up under the blankets for added warmth. You don't reach out a hand to touch him, giving him his space while he rests. He grumbles, it almost sounds like an exhausted sigh, before scooting up and pressing against you, an arm moving to wrap loosely around your waist. He hesitantly tucks his nose into the junction of your shoulder and neck, breathing lightly on the skin there. A shiver goes through him but he stays. You run your hand up and down his arm as if to warm him up. He makes a noise before moving impossibly closer as his arm moves further, tightening against your frame, pulling your body tighter, until you can feel his heartbeat, and the rest of his chest is pressed to yours. It seems to thunder under your fingertips.
"Cold." He seems almost grumpier in tone, a huff escaping. It wasn't just that, you think. He needed to rest, needed to breathe properly, or at least rest, and recover.
"Just relax," you whisper to him while tracing his tattoo designs with your fingers. His shoulders visibly lose tension after a few minutes, he seems to huff in a sigh, and the cold of his nose fades. You feel his hot breath on your neck, and you rub circles on his arms as you silently let the two of you drift off in the morning. When the time was right he'd wake up, he needs to heal properly, you remind yourself. You look out the window to see its cracked in snow not allowing you to see what time it might be. He makes an almost annoyed noise but doesn't say anything. He tries to let himself drift off into sleep again and again, his mind a cacophony. Your voice calling him is soft, like the morning sun, yet as tired as him and equally soothing, you keep tracing his tattoos with a gentle hand while trying to lull the both of you to sleep. Eventually, a calm washes over you, your mind finally succumbing to slumber and drifting off.
After an undetermined amount of time, your consciousness starts to clear and become less of a hazy state of floating. As you rouse you blink back the heavy sensation of sleep, allowing you to open your eyes. You take a deep breath before looking up at his pale face noticing the black under his eyes are the same as his tattoos. He looks relaxed but exhausted in his sleep.
You wait until your vision comes into focus, the fireplace lit with enchanted flames. A single glance towards the window says it's night. It looks like a full day must have passed, the house as quiet as can be.
It could've been hours, it could have been minutes. Time is an illusion at this point. There was a sense of peace, and the distinct warmth of another being in the large cold estate that made you curl closer, craving his presence. This only causes a soft sigh to break the silence, a larger arm and body drawing closer to you, as the other arm stretches out slightly to yawn. When he speaks his voice seems grittier, but lighter in its tone, "Sleep well?" You can feel the warmth and his hand on your lower back as his thumb strokes your hip. He places his chin over your head in a caring embrace. His chest presses into your back, not tightly, but in an embrace.
"Actually I think we were asleep for hours. How are you?" You lean back in his embrace. You can hear his heartbeat thumping from behind.
"You're sure? I cannot say I've slept that well in, well, months really." You give an empathetic hum. He yawns, stretching in a sluggish manner.
"I don't mind just taking the rest of today to lie around if you're tired still," you say softly as he chuckles lightly. You move your head up to kiss the underside of his jaw. He huffs in amusement at the action, tilting his chin slightly and catching your lips with his, surprising you. He still seems somewhat sleepy.
"Then what, am I to do? I'm trapped here all day with you," He says with no true bite to his tone, his voice hoarse but a lazy smirk on his lips, a sultry look in his eyes as if the man wanted you to put him to work, "We've got an entire manor for us, and I can assure you we'd be rather bored just sleeping and enjoying each other's company, with no one around to interrupt."
The tips of your ears become warm in response to his tease, but you bite your tongue slightly with an amused expression.
"None of that until you rest up Quan Chi," you admonish, but as you trail off in thought and finish the statement with, "What should we have to eat? Do you think you'd feel better with soup?" There's no real urgency to your tone. He raises his chin defiantly before clearing his throat, his tone smoother. His grip on you slackens.
"Soup? I suppose it could help me, yes, especially if you're preparing it, perhaps it'd do us good to see how you fare in a kitchen for once," He teases his smirk turning into an affectionate smile. You make a fake hurt expression before lightly slapping his chest a soft giggle escapes you and you hear him chuckle as well as you continue,
"I'm going to go to the kitchen to get soup ready, and flip the breakers to see if the power is back yet." He makes a curious humming noise, as he seemingly opens his mind to allow you to search the area.
"Alright," He agrees, raising up and stretching in bed, his back cracking as the cold seems to fade. He huffs when his back finishes cracking, "How are you going to warm the entire house with the breakers, exactly?" You can feel that he was planning to get out of bed.
"I'm going to nag you if you take one step out of this bed Quan Chi." You begin to pout as you watch him start to get out of bed.
"I am perfectly healthy, if a little hungry."
"I need you to heal faster and to that, you need to rest. Besides if you want to be 'frisky' with me I want you in perfect health." His jaw snaps closed as his mind processes the words. His pupils dilate a slight flush across his features as he floats himself back onto the bed, a hand pinches his nose bridge knowing you already won this small battle.
"As you wish," he mumbles begrudgingly. It's your turn to tease.
"That's a good boy, I'll be back soon," You praise teasingly, kissing his cheek with a satisfied smile. He freezes and flushes lightly at the tone. You quietly leave the room to go to the basement breakers. The lights come on easily with a flick, and you're relieved when you head to the kitchen and manage to turn on the stovetop. After turning the tap you are surprised to find there is water to use, thankfully the pipes didn't freeze. You quickly cranked the thermostat up hoping to warm the house quickly.
When you're finished with heating the soup on the stove, you grab a couple of bowls out of the kitchen cupboards and scoop into the pot filling them halfway, as you begin brewing tea as well. Before heading back to the bedroom you had already warmed the tea and grabbed a loaf of bread to cut slices for to accompany the soup. You gently close the door to your room as Quan Chi is reclined and reading, a dark shirt over his frame. His gaze rises, a gentle smile appearing at the food, and the sight of your flushed form in front of him. He hadn't noticed just how much energy you had put in the last 24 hours and there was an almost protective drive in his psyche. You go back into the bed and try not to burn your mouth from the warm food as he begins eating the soup. He seems to close his eyes and enjoy the heat coming from the soup.
"I don't know how you can just eat the soup without blowing on it to cool it off slightly, your mouth has to burn right now," You tease him as his gaze raises up in amusement. He finishes his mouthful before speaking.
"Do I look bothered? Besides I doubt you could do much to make your soup taste terrible."
"Don't test me, I'll go grab the peppers that I got back in Outworld and toss some in if you'd like," You continue in a light joking tone. His lips twist in mild displeasure.
"Perhaps not. Not many like the spice as much as I do." The warm, albeit challenging, look on his face made you have the urge to kiss him again but hold back knowing he needs to be careful. You carefully blow on your soup before bringing it to your mouth and take another small sip. When your mouth isn't burning, you take another bite before starting to get a couple spoonfuls' worth in your mouth, the rich flavours of the carrots, celery, and chunks of chicken helping your body heat up in response as you continue to eat the soup.
There's a silence as he seems content to just eat his meal before speaking, "Perhaps now is a poor time, but how did you happen to buy your own mansion?" The tone was oddly prying in comparison to his usual direct nature. Perhaps he did enjoy your fumbling.
"I inherited it from my grandfather after he passed," you reply calmly as you continue to eat while having an intense feeling you were being observed as if not just in his mind.
"Ah, family property, it's nice," He pauses as if he was getting a chance to read your thoughts, a nagging sensation tickling his scalp, his shoulders seeming tense and his gaze meeting yours as he seems to wonder if you felt the same, "There's more than meets the eye when it comes to your estate. Some of this land could be useful for certain, ah, tests of mine," He seems to trail off, and that's all it takes.
"Absolutely not, no soul-nados, death magic, or any of the 'fascinating experiments' I see in your mind or we aren't even remotely fucking." You make an absolutely serious and sharp face. He recoils at the absolute bluntness of the tone, not knowing how else he is going to read the situation or react. A light cough cleared his throat.
"If it comes down to it then I suppose it's settled. No deal," His reply is blunt, with no hint of any desire for that to be the reality. Even when he was...that, you still needed him in his current self, and you gave a terse nod as you both finished eating and placed the bowls and tea on the nightstand. His fingers begin tracing circles and designs on the back of your palm.
"What's on your mind? From the look on your face, something has to be bothering you."
"Nothing is going on, what makes you believe something is wrong, I was simply wondering who is doing a better job right now."
"Your face gives you away more than you'd like to believe Quan Chi," You answer quietly, "I appreciate that you worry about me, but is there another reason?" His eyes give him away the slightest bit, darting to the window for a moment and his lips purse in the smallest way before returning to his neutral face.
"You're acting so anxious. And that's coming from me," You say as a large breath exits your body. You wait a few seconds to gauge his expression as if he was working a magic spell behind closed doors. A long breath escapes his nose and he goes silent for a short minute, his eyes wandering in contemplation and concentration.
"Is it because you're not fully recovered?" A calm has enveloped your features as a finger delicately caresses his hand. As if the digit were a feather gently touching his skin, but instead, it was a static charge sparking a flame between the two of you.
"Are you certain that this is what you desire?" He turns towards you, a furrow in his brow. You swallow and think for a second. Is he really asking if he's who you truly wish?
"Yes Quan Chi, you've got me and I'm not going anywhere," your face brightens and a sweet expression comes through as you look at him earnestly. This feels so far removed from a previous memory, it feels foreign almost, the joy and adoration you hold for him, when did it grow so large? As though a plant were allowed to thrive in darkness, suddenly emerging into the warm sun. But instead of being a weed, it becomes the flower that changes the entire world around it. It only took a seed of kindness for this to happen. His shoulders seem to untense as the stress and concern on his face waver.
"That may very well be, however, I feel that the source of the problem is likely my fault. It isn't your concern," he takes a deeper breath before meeting your eyes.
"Well too bad, your concerns are my concerns and vice versa," your expression changes slightly in determination, "So, talk to me. Let me share the burden if only a little."
He gives you an almost odd expression, somewhere in between his usual devious smirk, and his almost unsure frown. One that seemed as though the world would never understand, not that they would wish to.
"Sometimes my duties prevent me from joining you immediately. Sometimes, it isn't often, but the circumstances cause a complication. It could happen again, that is a certainty in our lives together," a small hand grabs onto his own, your hand completely covered. He flexes it as if unsure of how you would respond. You slowly exhale.
"I know that, I know I get concerned and frustrated when I hear nothing from you. Only for you to finally show up wanting to be intimate with me, and then not give me an answer. It's not great, you know I'm here though, so please just," You pause for a moment, making sure your emotions stay in check, "At least come to me when something happens, please just be open. I don't want to keep pestering you. But I can handle it, whatever happens, as long as we talk."
He leans towards you and pulls your shoulders down as your head is brought towards the crook of his neck.
"This conversation doesn't have a simple solution, but I understand and believe me I value what you're trying to say," a shaky sigh escaped his lips, the breath ruffling your hair slightly. He let you wrap your arms around his neck.
"Whatever decision you make, it will take time to adjust and get used to, I'm here." You lean in closer towards him before gently whispering the final reassurance.
"We can tackle the issue together."
His hands gingerly rub the sides of your shoulders, his breaths quiet as though you were a cat, a gentle massage to calm. Your soft exhale sounds against him as though you are a precious treasure to be treasured, one he had known and loved for so very long.
"If there was a perfect way to discuss the issue, we would both understand everything and feel entirely sure of it," his voice seems almost deceptively steady, with a lilt of concern, a familiar cold hand traces your spine. Your legs stretch out a bit, adjusting yourself further into his side.
"Mmmm," he murmurs with an adoring tone, a finger on his right hand pressing the underside of your chin. The sorcerer presses a warm kiss on the top of your forehead. He glances down at you again, almost adoringly,
"Whatever choice I make, know that you are more precious than anything to me, no matter how selfish and dangerous my wishes can potentially be," a crooked smile appears as you lay there in quiet reverence. It takes some time but eventually, the embrace breaks, the tenderness of the conversation fading into comfortable silence as you seem content to merely relax in each other's company.
"I hope you know I do love you, Quan Chi, even when we get into arguments and I seem frustrated with you," a confession escapes your lips after some minutes have passed. A shocked noise of surprise leaves the man.
"And why, is that, exactly," his lips pressed into a firm line and a red hue crossed his features, an odd reaction of bashfulness, yet adoration, all in the same moment. Your lips turn up at the edges before you reach over and hold his hand tenderly.
"It's hard to put into words why, or what I like the most," you think aloud, "Perhaps the devotion to your own personal ambition. An unmatched intellect."
"Or," He interjects in an unusual and strangely shy display, a light stuttering present,
"Perhaps it's my 'handsome good looks', as you've described me." His voice holds the mock-sarcastic lilt of self-assurance, and a small smile grows on his lips. His brow raises for a moment, amusement showing on his face.
"That's only a bonus, not one of the main reasons," you're unable to stop a chuckle as you lean further into him. His gaze seems affectionately smitten before he cautiously replies with a strangely measured, yet adoring voice,
"That's something I have always found lovely and valuable about you," there is a brief moment where he bites his lip nervously and squeezes your hand firmly before letting go as if weighing his next statement,
"The first person who has given me unconditional love and who hasn't asked me for the simplest tasks for my assistance," The last few words come out quieter as the faintest scarlet touches his features as if he didn't expect to open up so quickly. You press the side of his hand.
"Never asked for your assistance or services, only for your love," you finish his thought, with a smirk present on your lips and an impish look in your eyes. It takes all of him not to crush his lips to yours. He lifts your chin to kiss you tenderly as if words wouldn't be able to capture how much he adored the very bones in your body. A calm euphoria overwhelms him, almost frightening in nature as he feels himself loosen up after weeks of anxiety, your presence having such a profound and relieving effect. He only wishes it would never have to end. You giggle a bit and brush your noses against each other as you peck his cheek. You wrap your arms around him, making it known that you aren't leaving. He bites his tongue and then begins the same process again, softly nipping your jawline and teasing the shell of your ear, with little butterfly kisses along the base of your hairline. After some moments a mumble can barely be heard through the movements,
"What are you doing Quan Chi, cuddling or giving love bites?" a quiet groan can barely be heard at the denial.
"Oh, you certainly deserve to be punished, after denying my attentions yesterday," A low rumbling chuckle follows as he grips your legs and swiftly brings you closer.
"Not until you fully recovered, until then no funny business," a wink is given with an innocent-sounding tone. He squints his eyes slightly as if frustrated but relaxes slightly.
"It isn't kind to tease in this way," a note of affection slips into the devious undertone and his arms wind tightly around you, pulling you into his chest, your head tucked under his chin,
"Besides, this is hardly necessary in regards to me getting a full recovery," the final sentence ends with a light air of exasperation and a hint of mock-offence. The irony isn't lost on you.
"Uh-huh sure, I know how desperate you are to have me. But I'm sure it'll be worth the wait," you respond cheekily as your hand runs over his head. He swears you enjoy teasing him when he has nothing to offer you except his presence. He can't be annoyed, because a part of him is enthralled by this. That despite everything you trust and love him deeply.
"When I'm fully restored, I'll spend every single night showing you what's worth the wait," a sultry lilt is in the words before he continues, a warm note in his voice as you curl deeper into his chest and revel at the embrace,
"It will take days for that to happen, Quan Chi, don't get yourself too excited," a long hum resonated, a brief noise of disapproval as you pulled back a small degree, "Just remember not to do too many wild and crazy things and you won't have any issues," a taunting smile is present as he tilts his head slightly and pretends to contemplate his answer, the tell-tale expression showing he was in thought and a plan was brewing. You know this and roll your eyes and shake your head.
"Remember you said that in a couple of days when I've recovered and am no longer going easy on you," His lips widen with a wink at the challenge. A small huff leaves your mouth as you lean over him, a hand caressing his shoulders,
"Go to sleep Quan Chi, the sun will be up shortly. I'm not keeping you awake and risking you getting sick on top of healing."
"Then shut up and lay here with me, you wouldn't want to test my endurance and patience, would you?" You slap his arm in a joking way as you curl up against him and tug the blanket back over your shoulders.
"Let me make that decision," he gives a satisfied hum as you bury your face in the pillow and fall into a dreamless slumber.
You kept nagging him back to bed every time you caught him out of it for anything other than going to the bathroom for the next few days, slowly his skin warmed back to its normal warmth. He looked more like himself, far less sickly pale; just his natural white. With a subtle shine and healthy glow as opposed to the grey he was. With it came his confident arrogance again.
"How are you feeling Quan Chi? Your skin has its normal colour again and you don't feel cold." Your finger gently runs along his side and presses gently on a couple of points.
"Well, your concern is certainly noted and appreciated," he drawls, the almost seductive undertones not entirely lost on you. You have a snarky remark almost ready and eager to fire it off. His pupils dilate and seem to twitch a little bit, his eyebrows scrunch up the tiniest bit in concentration and almost nervous tension as he squints his eyes slightly.
"Well, you're acting like yourself again, so you must be feeling better," You casually retort, the lines of his face and neck show hints of tension as his nostrils flare the slightest bit, "Don't overwork yourself just yet though," your fingers stop and he gives you a longing gaze,
"Why wouldn't I? You still need to be punished for denying me I came to see you," the reminder that he was recovering and being babied didn't deter him in the slightest, even while joking, his intent wasn't hard to discern. It wasn't often but sometimes you did toy with him just for fun. To see how he would respond or how long he would humour you. A sly smile comes over you as you place your hand on his leg and kiss his cheek.
"Mhm, because you seem so unhappy with getting plenty of sleep and meals?" You tease playfully, you can see the urge to kiss and leave marks across your body, his expression is reminiscent of how a starved beast stares hungrily at their prey.
"Who would be upset by their lovely partner doting on them and taking care of them when they are ill," you add before laughing,
"Obviously you would be. Mr. Grand Sorcerer, Shinnok's Right-Hand, Quan Chi," Your giggles cause him to stifle a smile, trying to retain a cold demeanour but is unable to keep it completely.
"Well yes, but that can't take away from the fact that you did tease me. Deny my attention and affections to such a degree and not give a fair apology," there is a false air of cold superiority and disdain, as his voice has that silky sound as the undertones and meaning. The first signs of annoyance appear and show when the only thing that appears are slightly scrunched-up brows as he frowns and the creases in his face deepen in the smallest fraction.
"Fair point, would you like to hear my apology? Or would you rather I keep teasing you?" The desire that burns in his eyes is an incredible feeling for you, the strength of the gaze and how he only seems to glance away as a second thought. He raises his eyebrows, a thin yet impressed smirk crossing his lips as if he knew your question was bait, before glancing you up and down and licking his lips as if he could almost taste the pleasures you'd promised him.
"I'm sorry I was worried about your health instead of reciprocating your affection," you whisper in his ear your breath hitting the lobe with hot energy causing him to hum.
"Do better," a rumble escapes the sorcerer and goosebumps appear along his skin.
"If you still think that was bad enough," You lay a kiss against his ear and tilt your head,
"Sorry for teasing you. For not letting you be frisky when you came home to me that day," you continue, almost growling the final part, "Sorry, for telling you to take it slow and let yourself heal completely. When all you want is for me to bend over and let you use my throat and beg you to split me apart," His teeth are gnashing together almost audibly, but the words that tumble out of him are still just coherent.
"That was," a swallow can be seen and a sigh exhales, the exhale making the temperature a degree or two colder, "Good enough," there's a pause and you can see him considering something. He squeezes your arm tight, almost to the point of bruising. You let out a squeak and the Sorcerer loosened his hold.
"If that's good enough for an apology, then your punishment won't have to be severe."
"How merciful," your voice is smug as you climb onto his lap facing him.
"Keep talking, and I won't have mercy, I'll give you an experience you'll have difficulty forgetting, " his grip is tight around your ass and it tightens just a fraction. The beginnings of the blush covering your features are all the response he needs.
"Good thing," you say, a breath catching, "That sounds like fun."
He answers by groping the soft flesh of your ass harder and grins smugly.
"Mmmm, yes, and I'll enjoy hearing you." He continues, almost sighing. The anticipation builds and builds until suddenly he pulls your hips towards him and connects his lips to yours. Passionate is too tame a word, hungry, filled with lust and desire, would better capture how his hands roam. This is so very familiar, one that you find you can easily match. With your lips almost unwilling to break from him, his head moves slightly so his nose nudges yours affectionately, and his mouth runs down the sensitive area where your jaw and neck meet, before going towards your collar.
The sensation of your own fingers clutching at the back of the shirt that adorns his chest, causing a heated exhale to leave Quan Chi's lips as they close on your shoulder, making marks and brushing against its juncture with your collar, while one of your hand's cards over his tattooed head. An aroused sigh escapes your mouth. Your breathing and heart rates go wild, and with it, the passion grows. The sounds already coming from you send his blood coursing to where a rapidly rising tent is made by his hard member. A glimmer in his eyes catches you for a moment, making your fingers momentarily quiver, causing him to smirk, pleased at your reaction. With a muffled breathy grunt, the hands around your legs go rougher as you're manhandled to the mattress.
A desperate sigh emits from his lips and his tongue swirls over a fresh mark his teeth left before the mirthful and utterly lascivious expression is present as the two of you pull back for a moment. A slight furrowing of your eyebrows shows in mild frustration at the lack of his mouth and tongue on you, the marks, and hickeys not nearly satisfying your need, the silence leaving a ringing in your ears. An expression of understanding flitted across his eyes, his lips quirking for a moment, contemplating his options. It is easy to tell when a thought enters the Sorcerer's mind and quickly acts. You wait, as he seems to maul over his options, a minute or two passes, almost interminably. As you take the moment, to attempt and catch your breath, as it feels almost impossible while the haze and feverish cloud fills your mind, in spite of the interruption in proceedings, you lean into his embrace and grind into him lightly.
"Will you tell me what you have planned or do I need to beg," you tease, the sparkle of joy in your eyes has the faintest glint of wickedness, the only hint of a slight narrowing. His nose brushes yours and his grip on your shoulder, while one hand goes up and holds the back of your head. There is a glint of malevolent anticipation in his expression before he speaks,
"Quite frankly, I've already spent enough time waiting patiently for this," the response makes his cock twitch with want and he bites his lip,
"Please be clear," He gives a wink and an exasperated gasp exits.
"Well, maybe, but that isn't an accurate representation," You half-heartedly pout and tap your chin in faux-thought and hum. He shakes his head and goes to work creating another dark mark with a playful nibble to the area, he takes great care in tracing the tips of his fingers over the base of your back, giving you shivers as they linger slightly along the top of your pantline. You let out a small laugh and pat him on the back.
"While we're indulging our kinks," your fingers poke at a newfound spot, "May I indulge in mine, dearest," the endearment in your tone as if butter wouldn't melt causes him to let out a little sound,
"Of course. Do you trust me, my dearest, darling, loveliest?" You speak as if innocence and chivalry are a defining part of your nature, something he has no doubt of its authenticity. A purr begins in his throat and his grip relaxes and then tightens on your hips.
"Lay down, and put your arms on the headboard. Give them something to keep you up against," he eyes you suspiciously and gives a small nod. Your gaze almost has him melting and losing his breath. He moves himself into position and watches eagerly to see your next move, curious of where you'll go and what your plan is. He can tell you are thinking, a calculating and analytic expression comes onto you. You slowly rise and lean onto him, laying atop him in a gentle way. His brow slightly crinkles, wondering if you've forgotten your place in all of this. He wants to scoff, but a gasp is all he gets. It's tempting and difficult for him not to touch you. Your body feels light and warm atop him, even with the layers of clothing between.
Your fingers tap against your mouth, considering for a moment, how to initiate this, when an idea clicks, the silent calculation ends and a smirks. Faint red stains his cheeks at the sight of you. Your eyelids go half-lidded a simper ever-present. One hand gently cards his head and you pepper soft, open-mouthed, tender, wet kisses down from his neck and clavicle. Your hands slip under his shirt as if asking to remove the article of clothing before he nods and you yank it upwards and off him. You return back to his clavicle and leave a dark red mark that'll leave a nice bruise he won't be about to hide so easily. He gasps, and moans quietly. He takes his time admiring how beautiful you look right now and his fingers twitch from where his arms are stretched above his head. The silk, warm softness of your lips upon his clavicle, has him restraining from pouncing you and reversing your roles. Your weight isn't oppressive as it gently rests atop him, but instead, he relishes in it. It is not that it isn't something you've done in the past, but it always shocks him, you manage to surprise him even after the longest, most arduous or drawn-out of times and days. You can't help but keep biting his neck leaving more bruises to match the ones he's given you, as you grind against his thigh teasing him farther. You stop for a moment to remove your shirt feeling it cling to your skin with the sweat beginning to accumulate. A deep appreciative groan, as he ogles shamelessly and almost openly at your form. The most self-satisfied expression came onto him. A smirk turns the corners of his mouth. The sudden urge for a sharp nip hits you. To retaliate you sink your teeth in with just enough pressure to draw his blood and feel the flow of warm iron mix and meld with the saliva as you swipe your tongue over the mark.
His arm jerks and he swears your name falls from his lips in a long groan as your hands slide down the silky skin of his shoulders and nails rake down his back just a tad, eliciting a hiss and the nails grip into your shoulder blades and he growls out the next curse. You both lean in, lips inches apart for just a second before joining together. A small roll of your hips has the bulge in his pants make contact with a spot that has you moaning loudly. He quickly moves to pin you to the bed underneath him and tug off the remainder of your clothes. You raise your knee to gently graze the side of his hip and to lift his bulge for a moment. It is then he rips his trousers and boxers off in an impossibly swift movement. It doesn't come as a surprise; his eyes show and promise of a blissfully tortuous night as he looks over you. The heat of his touch was something that enveloped and radiated around his cock. The way the pupils of his eyes seem to grow bigger as he breathes deeply. It does wonders in how his abs move and expand and contract. It almost gives way to his aroused state. The slight shimmer his skin gets that accentuates his figure. A flush he has spread around his neck and ears, to a lesser degree than you. You feel him grab your legs throwing them over his shoulders, his grip on them keeps them where he wants them. You can see in the corners of his eyes the excitement that you will get more and more vocal with every movement he makes. His eyes stare across your naked form, drinking in the sight before his mouth latches onto your core with almost ungodly fervency. His hands aren't just keeping you upright, however, as your thighs twitch the hands move away and towards your slit, fingers sinking deep into the tender, delicate area, drawing light moans out of you. His tongue feels like nothing else, and even without his usual dexterity of movement, you are still an incoherent moaning mess within minutes.
You move, buck, and tremble, wriggle and shake as he maintains his vigour. The steady, persistent, rhythm with his fingers, plunging inside. He focuses on the swollen and engorged nub above, circling it and running his tongue around it, and pressing against the edges with almost merciless devotion. It was a torture only a certain few had experienced and been able to endure. As you reached the brink, you were seconds away, trembling and shaking. Tears glistened around the edges of your eyes, while you're gasping turned to ragged panting, Quan Chi noticed and pushed you deeper into the bed, holding you firmly in place, and your orgasms ripped out of you. Over and over, he pulled from you a torrent of cries and calls of his name, interwoven between swears and curses and little words of praise. By the last of it, the very end where your mind had melted, you were gibbering, begging for some mercy. You didn't think there was much of a chance to rest, however. In your current state, his attentive tongue kept moving. He slid and pressed and caressed you with it until your hips jerked in an involuntary way. Even in the midst of the orgasm, he stayed, taking everything, before he began moving a second time, giving you even less of a reprieve. A torturous cycle of being at the brink, then crashing through, then being pushed higher to a crescendo you weren't sure would break and crash for the third, fourth or fifth time. Your body felt as if you were electrified as it overloaded the senses and overwhelmed the nervous system, the raw pleasure, was near impossible to contain and channel without breaking into a scream, cry or a thousand different and distinct other types of moans and sounds.
As he ate you out with ferocious hunger, the only sounds you were capable of producing were soft breathy pants, loud moaning, and whimpers, as well as whimpers as you became ever-increasingly sensitive and needed a break, only for your body and hormones to keep you wanting more and more of what he'd offer. You feel your nails claw into the back of Quan Chi's head in desperation as the tides continue to change until his mouth lifts and the absence of his breath allows a moment to calm your breathing slightly, the cooling of the saliva coating you are a sharp sensation against the lingering warmth his hot breath left against you. You close your eyes, licking your lips slowly, and feel your thighs twitch and shake with each breath in. An impressive amount of pleasure coursed through you as you nearly went limp under him. Despite it though you manage a quiet exhale and a small smirk of accomplishment for him, which has him hum deeply. He lets your legs fall to the bed and crawls on top of you, straddling you.
The look on his face is incredibly erotic and handsome to you. It's a sharp contrast to the content and comfortable position and expressions he's had. At times, when he's just rested, or about to drift off, those were your favourite moments. Now? That was second-best and what your heart pounded the loudest for. His heavy breathing made him look feral, sweat dripping down his features, the focused and alert look on his face, made your arousal spike. His tongue darts out to lick his lips clean of the moisture you'd given him, and he lifts his fingers that were soaked and dripping wet and gives them an appreciative lick. Involuntarily, a soft moan escapes and you tilt your head towards him. It seems like the actions of his mouth are something he enjoys, a malevolent grin curves on his lips at your expression. He moves to line up with your core, dragging his cock slowly, a shiver coming across your spine. Your fingertips go gently to his tattoos and roam over him. An idea forms in his mind as he grins,
"Open your mouth for me, you'll get what you want in time," the command is clear, and you obey instantly, opening wide for him. Your obedience makes a spark shoot down his spine as his breath grows erratic and heavy, "Good girl," the praise goes straight to your core and you can't help the moan that leaves you. You watch him stand up from the bed as if to get a better angle. You lay on your back head slightly hanging off the bed, open mouth waiting for him to fill.
He looks down at you with dark, lidded eyes, his cock standing proudly in front of your face. His hand gripping the base moves forward, you anticipate the moment, he grips his cock and smacks your face. You let out a squeak at the feeling, watching the throbbing dick bounce up and down before bringing it down your throat, letting it reach its limit. He grips your throat lightly and begins to slowly thrust down it. His head tilts back and a groan rumbles through his throat. He grips your neck as he moves your face, rubbing against it at all angles, the squeezing of his thumb and finger around the arteries. In these moments he loses his normally composed demeanour and is brought closer to primal and instinctual.
His hips slowly jerk, pushing and sliding further. A lovely blush adorns your features. You are almost unrecognisable like this. You keep your eyes shut knowing that drool and precum will slip past your lips, his pace hastens in speed and force as his balls smack against your forehead. Saliva rolls down from the sides of your mouth to coat him further. His chest rises and falls with his growing laboured breathing. Quan Chi's nose flares as sweat drips down his chin and body and you moan against his length and clutch onto the sheets.
When the hands-on you squeeze harder and move in a more controlled rhythm, you can tell that he's losing control. From the moans, he lets out his hips move faster, the force increasing and causing tears to prickle at the corners of your eyes, as he keeps pushing down further and further and moaning a stream of his dirty thoughts fills your ears, praising your mouth, how well and good you felt, and he didn't want to stop or slow. You simply try to remain open-mouthed around his length so that he can properly fuck you and feel satisfied. You feel his fingers grip tightly onto your shoulders, to keep you in place and his cock rammed down your mouth. It's becoming more erratic now and you feel it brush the back of your throat. He's moaning loudly now, loud enough to wake the dead, and you have no doubt if no one is outside that room they'll certainly be suspicious about it tomorrow. If anyone's ear happens to be to the door, the wet noises that resound from the two of you along with the dirty talk, they can surely understand what's going on.
"Oh~ good. You're taking my cock so well," The praises encourage you and you moan, it reverberates throughout and shakes him. His hands stay on the sides of your head to hold it firmly. As his cock hits the back of your throat the moans you give sound utterly shameless and depraved, but the sounds have an effect on him. They sound wanton and add to the rush of endorphins that leave him dazed. Even the tips of your hair brushing his upper thigh sends shocks of pleasure up to his cock, where his hips are starting to stutter and jerk. There are moments, between your ministrations, where the steady rhythm he'd achieved becomes irregular, or his hips jerk in an extra long motion.
He tries to drag it out. His grip, which once was gentle, has tightened significantly, and a growl echoes in his throat. Even the groans that occasionally escape him come in ragged, uneven spurts that show he is desperately trying not to come too quickly, even as he knows you'll take every drop. You let out an incredibly sluttish and pleased noise, even as he has his cock rammed into your mouth.
"Just like that," his head leans back, and a shudder racks his spine, "Mmn."
You hum lightly in reply. His eyes flutter shut at the feeling, "Good, you've done such a great job."
You tighten the suction slightly, and his entire body stiffens in place, the sounds of a raspy moan, and breath that seems stuck in his throat is the reaction you receive, "Fuck, just a bit more."
He pushes roughly against your nose, and his balls tighten as he finally climaxes into your mouth, an unhindered roar of pleasure. You can hardly focus with the moans filling the air around you, as the two of you cling onto one another.
The flush on Quan Chi's cheeks is very apparent and enticing, while he finishes spilling into your mouth. For the last spurts, he releases you to keep an eye on you as you gulp down the rest. You roll on your stomach and swallow before opening your mouth again. His breathing is raspy and shallow as the exertion has a noticeable effect. The expression on his face is slightly euphoric but still needy, and you wait patiently for him. After catching his breath, a self-satisfied smile is present and he hums thoughtfully,
"What an exquisite sight."
Your expression and frame seem so small before him. Submitting and being vulnerable in front of him, are some of the greatest things he's seen in his years. The sense of awe and appreciation makes his voice soft and gentle, which isn't often heard, a tone he only reserves for special occasions. The room is quiet around him. Although he can barely hear his own thoughts with the ringing that surrounds his ears from the sheer amount of blood flow his body is experiencing. You sit up on the bed waiting for his next move and grab your cup from the bedside table trying to clear your mouth of the saliva that lingers and to try and soothe the ache forming in your throat. A smirk crosses his face when he sees what you are doing. Your lips, saliva is a slick covering, a deep pink is flushed across your face and body, and your neck bears the beginnings of several bruising marks. He observes you, admiring the glow your figure seems to take on during intense nights together. He cannot get enough. To see you coming completely undone underneath him or for him to submit and surrender in the right way is satisfying beyond comprehension. To him, you're intoxicating. He cannot get enough, of the passion of moments of uninhibited frenzy, nor the serenity of simple embraces and expressions. There is no comparison to another and no matter who they were they couldn't compare to you.
Once Quan Chi pulls you in, his hand brushes against the sensitive skin, eliciting a shuddering gasp out of you as he manoeuvres to lay above you for another round. Your body quivers in anticipation and with a level of adrenaline pumping through the veins, it doesn't take much time for you to want it. One hand grips around your hip and the other pulls your neck towards his lips so he can bite into the flesh, you lean your head backwards to expose more of your throat and a pitiful moan passes through your lips as you arch into him.
Your head rests against the crook of his neck, your hand running against his chest before your arms hook and lock behind his neck and press yourselves impossibly close to one another, as he begins to lift you and line himself with your already thoroughly pleasured core. Once the two of you lock, his grip hardens against the skin of your waist, as you mewl, and your muscles clench around him. The slow roll of his hips causes your back to arch and your body to lift slightly your nails dig into his back in return as a delightful hiss of pain falls past his lips. He steadies his breath while watching your head toss back at the sensation. He thinks it's adorable the way your body twists at certain points as he starts a steady pace. You grind your teeth exhale sharply and whimper out. The quiet sounds ring around him and a rush of euphoria overwhelms his senses and he whispers out your name between huffs. A hand tangles in your hair as you arch into his chest, and he picks up the pace. His breathing becomes shaky, as he pulls himself out. He slams back into your dripping cunt, as his thumb circles and massages your clit. You fall apart in an instant, his name slipping from you in an intoxicated haze, your hips cast upwards meeting the merciless thrusting. He keeps the constant rolling of his hips and with it, the ecstasy that sparks is astounding and you are all but overwhelmed by the intensity that coils around your gut and shoves you to the edge and into the waves. A half-finished cry slips from you before devolving into a guttural moan. It sends Quan Chi spiralling to join you. His hips stutter and the panting deepens. Each harsh intake of breath echoes within your ears.
You shudder from the tension in your body being released. In the end, your minds were the most exhausted things, your legs ached and shivered. Everything about Quan Chi, as always, had been so passionate and fiery. The lust between the two of you drove the flames ever hotter and stronger. In the end, everything was a haze in your mind and all you could really remember was the overwhelming bliss. That's what it always was, his fiery passion would set alight the nerves within and carry you through the sea of bliss, content in each other's arms. You have to take a moment to steady your breathing as your head spins and the hazy heat inside becomes too much to take. The entirety of you is enveloped in his strong grip and you're reduced to a trembling mess. There isn't enough strength left inside you to resist his grip, to resist the way his teeth sink into the muscle, and the moans of his name taper off into quiet whimpers as the twitching of your limbs against him has them falling to the side as he holds you against his form. He purrs deeply, before grunting and closing his eyes, then he growls softly and bites into your shoulder. You mewl from the way his mouth feels. When he stops and lies next to you, the marks blooming along your body are striking. The love and desire he feels are branded upon your skin as if carved there by a knife. Quan Chi reaches to trace a few of the fresher ones. It sends a slight shock down your back and the gasp catches in his ear. With a prideful smirk, his thumb moves back down your torso and plays against the entrance teasingly, you bite the inside of your cheek. He laughs low and sweet before easing his thumb inside and admiring how easily it's accepted, "Did you enjoy yourself?"
Your fingers trace lines up his arm and intertwine with his own hand, giving a quick nod,
"Did you?" You tease and smirk back, though it's broken by another shiver from your spent body.
You lick your lips to savour the sweet aftertaste he'd given to you, your body completely surrendered, and at his mercy, tired and exhausted beyond measure. You enjoy the heated session and the power of his dominion and control over you.
The rest of his hand shifts around to play with the flesh surrounding the bud before brushing up your sides and cupping a breast, giving it a gentle squeeze and causing a moan to escape the back of your throat,
"Good. Let's enjoy it a little more," his smirk returns. His head tilts over to lay against yours and with a gentle hum.
A light kiss is placed against the corner of his lips and you both melt into each other's hold and embrace. There were so many nights like this, nights where there was no doubt how much Quan Chi cherished and desired you. And although you didn't know the complete extent to why or how exactly you'd won his heart so intensely. He was still his very own complicated person and this is not something easily changed, or understood, in others' eyes. But here it was only for you, to see how he longed and was devoted to you, how happy he was, and how content. Those were your favourite feelings from him, the feelings of contentment, how he was genuinely satisfied with the affection and the affection you offered to him. These were what you savoured the most from his relationship. This was what made a simple conversation worth having in his presence. His breathing slowed until it was almost audible, and your fingers drifted over each other in the peaceful silence. Quan Chi, leaning to press against you, murmurs low, words you can only guess, in your ears and with each murmured word, the pressure of his form against you increases, and the sated groan he emits is indecent as it tickles your nape, "Why can't I resist you?..."
Your fingers play with his and gently you speak,
A small snort is the only sign Quan Chi heard before another quiet murmur can be heard and he kisses a particularly prominent mark left upon the flesh of your neck. Quiet breaths move in and out of him and when his nose tucks against your neck the warmth and sweetness he radiates has your mind melting at the sheer gentleness and peaceful atmosphere. A smile comes across his lips, he feels no need to respond, he only closes his eyes and nods, enjoying the momentary embrace, you lean your head and kiss him properly and both your smiles shine.
Neither of you moves again, and Quan Chi's breathing slowly deepens.
He cannot keep his hands to himself, "Oh?" A slightly cocky grin adorns your lips as he glides a finger across his backside to feel the dark pink, nails have left their imprint, which is his signature brand in your eyes. As you brush and smooth the skin, it's obvious that it'd bruised already, you lean towards him and gently place a small kiss near where you'd done the damage and make an apology.
"You should see what I did to your neck Quan Chi," with a proud smirk he moves his own hand to cup the skin. His other fingers tangle in your hair, as you hold your heads side by side and playfully bite down onto the outer shell of his ear and teasingly he winces, "Touché."
His nails dig a little deeper as they come to rest on your hip, squeezing tighter when he leans closer and slides his lips against yours. The gesture leaves a red, swollen mark as he finishes with a wicked smirk of delight, a purr follows his actions and trails off, and once his gaze lifts to observe the look on your face a new thrill runs through Quan Chi and a heady dizzy feeling rushes. Your teeth nibble at your bottom lip in a dazed state and his stomach tightens. Your soft murmur is merely a purr, and your eyes gleam as you lean towards him, and a husky sigh escapes him as his grip tightens. As your mouth reattaches and the warmth travels through him, the shudder that racks his bones makes him hiss into you. He enjoys the sound, how easily it gets out, and how it flows out of his mouth and he grows breathless. With a shudder, the kiss draws out and ends in a final playful nip that leaves him smirking against your lips. Your entire figure relaxes and loosens, and he pulls your form against his own, his voice sounds sweet as a content purr passes and settles, the kisses eventually slow and his motions halt, and a hush falls as the both of you settle, your eyes drifting towards him.
He's as beautiful in this calm moment as ever. No trace of deceitful sardonic smirks, just a calm expression and the last lingering kisses. Quan Chi's dark eyes gaze over you, the ethereal sight is as captivating and intense as ever. How he manages to look powerful even without saying a word you'll never know. And how he looks at you, as if he could sense your admiration and it feeds his prideful desire for dominance and your body betrays you, becoming all too relaxed and welcoming.
Once it's finally morning the room is brighter than it'd been when you were together. He stands as if it was a regular day, looking entirely unfazed, a part of you believes he's getting ready to go fight and work for Shinnok somewhere or find someone to trap with some tricky words, yet as always his hand cups your chin and brings your gaze upwards.
"I'm still here." He pulls you against his form. And this time he pulls you against his form, this time and every other, it's perfect. Even though you hadn't asked or expected this in return for sharing your bed with him the feeling of the affection and tenderness he showed never left. A smile appeared upon your lips as you moved forward, pressing your frame closer, feeling your body settle comfortably against his, his smile only widened as a happy hum resonated from you, he nuzzled your hair and inhaled the familiar, yet somehow foreign scent. Quan Chi tilts his head so he can give you another soft kiss, which is equally matched by you.
He's sure to make it known, and sometimes it would take time, or it would just happen accidentally, but he never stopped showing how deep his adoration for you is. How much he can't get enough, or how your kisses always leave him wanting more. Once his face settles next to yours, and he can feel your heat spreading against his, the contentedness you share. You never tire of his kisses, no matter how short or brief. They are intoxicatingly sweet and no matter how you try you just can't get enough of them. You breathe him in and try to remember every aspect of his embrace because Elder Gods only know the next time you get to be together and wrapped in one another's warmth like this.
