Sal & Q - Protective Blurb Request
Warnings: Alcohol consumption
You don’t often go out and get drunk, but when you do, you tend to get a little wasted, a little fast.
The guys are celebrating their third season coming to an end, and you of course accompanied them, alongside Bessy. You’re on your third shot already, and Sal has been giving you a look, biting his tongue this whole time. Youre wearing a black dress that accentuates your natural curves. You don’t think it’s all that, but Sal thinks you look stunning. And apparently, so does the guy checking you out a few seats down.
You haven’t noticed him, too focused on ordering another shot and resting your head on Sal’s shoulder, trying to get his attention. He glares at the guy and returns his focus to you. “Another? Don’t you think you’re overdoing it?” He asks, knowing you’re going to be hung over later. “No!” You exclaim. He doesn’t want you to get a bad headache and throw up, so he decides to be the buzz kill. “No more after this shot. And drink some water.” He says, instructing the bartender not to serve you anymore.
You glare at him in your drunken state. “Sal! You’re n-not my boss!” You holler and down that last shot before heading to the dancefloor with a hiccup. “Bottoms Up” is playing and you start rocking to the beat.
Sal watches you, growing more annoyed, and starts talking to Joe about it. In the absence of Sal’s keen eye, the guy who was checking you out earlier approaches you. You didn’t know that he had been watching you earlier, however. “Boyfriend doesn’t dance?” He asks you.
You hiccup again and shake your head no. “He’s being boring right now.” You whine. “I can show you a good time.” He offers, winking at you. At this point, Sal has returned his gaze to you to check on you, and is even more aggitated to see the stranger talking to you.
He stalks over and places his hand on your hip, staring the guy down. “No thank you!” You holler dramatically at the dude over the loud music. Sal gives the guy one last dirty look before dragging you off to the car.
He helps you into the passenger seat and then leans down to buckle your seatbelt for you. “I know how to, silly.” You slur, giggling at him. He moves away after finishing and kisses your cheek, then heads to the driver seat to take you back to the house, where he gets you into bed, changing you into one of his shirts, and cuddles with you as you attempt to fall asleep.
Warnings: Slight violence/professional fighting
Being in a mixed martial arts class was something that you enjoy very much. You’ve been doing it for years, and now you even get to compete in fights. It’s exhilarating, to you. But to your boyfriend… He doesn’t understand what you love about it so much. You’re just hitting things and people, what’s so great about that?
Of course, he still tries to support you, but he does not like it. He has to sit there and watch people hit his baby. He hates it.
You are starting a match now, actually, and he is sitting in the front row, watching nervously. The other girl is about the same height, a little more muscular. He knows you can take her, but he still feels afraid. He hates seeing you get hurt, or hit, even if it doesn’t hurt you bad.
The match starts and you two circle each other for a minute before your opponent swings at you. You dodge it and throw a swift punch to her face, knocking her off balance for a second.
The fight progresses and you’re doing really good for a while, til she kicks you in the side and knocks you into the side of the ring. She hits you in the back of your head and then uppercuts you, and Q is on his feet by this point. “What the hell! Stop her!” He exclaims.
People behind him tell him to shut up and sit down but he ignores them, yelling at the ref as the girl hits you two more times. At this point, a security guard is warning Q to sit down or leave, and finally the ref blows the whistle and the girl is pulled away from you.
Q pushes his way over to your corner and reaches for your hand. “Are you okay?” He asks, terrified by the blood dripping from your mouth. You chuckle at him. “I’m fine, babe. Relax.” You tell him, standing back up and heading to the middle to finish the match.
By the end, you are very worn out and have a bruised face and stomach, but you ended up having a comeback and winning. Q holds your hand and presses ice to your head as he guides you out to the car, anxious to get you home safely. “I don’t understand why you like this.” He mutters, half to himself as he opens your door for you.
“I enjoy it. It’s exhilarating.” You respond when he joins you in the car. The ride home is silent, but he keeps a hand on your knee until you arrive to your shared apartment.
After a nice long shower, you come to your guys’ room and lay down beside Q and one of the cats. You rest your head on his chest and relax under the nice warm blankets. “Thank you for supporting me, even though you don’t like it.” You whisper. He kisses the top of your head and pulls you closer against him. “As long as you’re safe, I’ll always support you.” You close your eyes, chuckling lightly at your overprotective but sweet boyfriend.
