Spitting Fire

Bad Relations

“Soarin’!” a commanding voice shouted, her voice trembling with each word. “You joke of a stallion!”

“But, Spitfire she ju-”

“She just what, Soarin’?” Spitfire questioned inquisitively. “She didn’t just climb all over you and begin chowing down on you like that!” She pointed a hoof at Soarin, her eyes full of tears. “Y-you c-cheated on me again!”

“No, I didn’t!” Soarin shouted back. He watched as she fell on her couch. “She jumped on top of me without giving me a choice!”

“Oh,” Spitfire began as she stood back up, her face in front of his. She raised her voice with every word. “And your relaxed face with your tongue lolling out means you didn't have a choice?” She pushed the stallion to the floor and towered over Soarin' with a fierce look in her eyes. “You loved,” Spitfire said, before shoving her hoof into his stomach. “every…” She jabs her hoof harder into Soarin’s chest. “...bit of it!”

Soarin could only gasp as the tense mare removes her hoof from his chest. He saw it gently hover over him, dangling over his strained throat. The few seconds that ticked and tocked gave him enough time to regain his breath. He wished he could get away, but Spitfire's fiery gaze said otherwise. As if time slowed, he watched as she slammed her hoof onto his chords. “You have anything to say?”

The air flowed once again through Soarin's lungs. He began to cough due to the sudden rush of air. His lungs still burned from the intensity of her fire. “I-I love you.”

With tears in her eyes, Spitfire gets up, points to the door, and silently commands, “Get out.”

“Spitty, I-”

“GET OUT!” she shouted with all her might. Soarin, her best friend and her stallion, exited the room with his tail caught between his legs. She ran to the door and shouted, “And don’t you ever come back!”

She entered her apartment with a broken, heavy heart. She can't take his lies no more; this is the final straw. Nothing could bring them back together. Nothing!

The mare lets out a loud, blood-curdling cry and slams the door shut with a swift, powerful kick. She quickly locks it before scurrying over to her bed. In a fit of comfort and plush is where she sobbed, and hopefully where the pain and stress would end. The dams have been broken, and the levies never stood a chance. The pain now stains the sheets on her once comfortable bed.

This is the second time she’s caught him cheating on her with another mare. The first time Spitfire caught Soarin cheating, he was taking Fleetfoot for a spin. The two were on his bed ravenously rutting like two wild animals. When she caught him, she told Fleetfoot to leave, while Soarin’ was lectured about the whole ordeal. This caused them to break up for a while, the two living in their own separate apartment rooms, never to speak to each other in loving tones ever again.

That is, until Soarin came crawling back to her, begging for them to be in a relationship again.

Spitfire reluctantly agreed, telling Soarin to promise her that he would never cheat on her ever again.

He promised.

And now, she lies on her bed that they used to share, the promise now shattered like a mirror.

The memories they used to share: the flying, the kissing in the bathroom stalls after training so long in the hot weather…

...all of that was lies.

He left me out to dry.

Spitfire couldn’t help the tears that flowed out of her. She was alone, afraid, and heartbroken. All of this was caused by her lover's unfaithful desire.

As time flew by, the mare’s crying slowed. However, the pain took its place.

“Fucking Soarin,” she muttered in her soggy pillow. “Why did he do that to me?”

The mare popped off her pillow and sat up. She grabbed the pillow in her hooves.

“He knows I loved him to death,” she continued, ignoring her own question. “I mean, we’ve been friends since the day we first became Wonderbolts!” Spitfire said, hugging the pillow tightly to her chest. “Why would he do that to me?” She looked down at the ground, facing the window near her bed. “I just want to know…”

“Because he’s a cheater, that’s why,” a voice replied from outside her door. “Now can you open up? I think someone needs some help.”

Who in the hay is at my door?

“Go away,” Spitfire said, still clutching her pillow to her chest. “I don’t want to see anyone.”

“So, Spitfire, my Captain, and loyal friend, won't speak to me?” the voice behind the door announced, her tone of voice sounding annoyed. “Humph, such disrespect shown to a teammate…”

Spitfire facehooves and laid the pillow on her bed. She slowly walked over to the door, her tear-stricken face out to show.

“Fleetfoot, why are you outside my apartment room door?”

Spitfire heard a long drawn out sigh. “Because I heard your crying from down the hall and I knew immediately what was going on.”

“How did you know that?” Spitfire shot back.

“I don't know? Because I saw you yelling at Soarin with words only of the prophets of Discord would use…”

Oh no…

Spitfire approached the door and unlocked it. She cautiously cracked the door open to see Fleetfoot standing there. The teal Wonderbolt gazed right at her with a gentle smile on her face. “Howdy,” Fleetfoot greeted. “Can you let a poor mare in?”

Spitfire smiled. “Yes, you may.”

Fleetfoot moosied into Spitfire’s room, grinning all the while. When Spitfire sighed and closed the door, Fleetfoot’s grin immediately disappeared. “So, I guess he did the same thing to you?”

What?

Spitfire looked at Fleetfoot and raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well,” Fleetfoot begins. “Remember when he cheated on you with me?”

Much to the chagrin of Spitfire, she nodded, the memory beginning to appear once again.

Fortunately for her, it was popped in an instant.

“Well, he wasn’t just cheating on you…”

“WHAT?” Spitfire shouted.

“Basically he cheated on us both for a posh designer from Canterlot,” Fleetfoot explained. “Apparently, he was in a relationship with her before he even stepped with his two front hooves in the Wonderbolts.”

That bastard will never be remembered.

“So we were just his playthings?” Spitfire asked, holding off her seething anger.

Fleetfoot nodded and laid herself on the couch. “We were just his playthings…”

Since we’re on the same platform now, I might as well tell her...

“Fleetfoot, I have something to tell you…”

Fleetfoot ears perked up at this. “What?”

“You might want to get off that couch.”

Fleetfoot raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Soarin was rutting a groupie on it.”

In a split second, Fleetfoot jumped off the couch with a face of complete and utter fear for her life. “Is there any cum on my bum?!” Fleetfoot shouted anxiously.

Spitfire giggled. “Fleetfoot, you should be a poet.”

“Shut up, Fireball,” Fleetfoot said with a smirk.

Spitfire sighed as the dreaded nickname was uttered once again. Ever since the Wonderbolt tryouts, Fleetfoot called her Fireball after she attempted to perform the trademarked trick called “The Boom”. In short, she was supposed to gain enough speed to make a streak in the sky of fire and then turn at high speeds. Spitfire did succeed in making the streak of fire, but failed to make the turn, causing her to crash in a heap of hay and grass shavings. Luckily, she survived with a broken wing and a couple of rib fractures; it could’ve been worse.

After she crashed in the heap of hay, the team approached the scene to find out that the hay she landed in was on fire. When the team frantically began searching in the hay, they found her curled up in a ring of fire, unharmed by the flames surrounding her. When the pegasi used rain clouds to douse the flames, the team rushed to her aid. All this time, Spitfire was awake, laughing the whole time.

What a ball of fire.

“Don’t you ever call me that again, Fleetfoot,” Spitfire growled venomously.

“Yet you let me do it every time,” Fleetfoot chimed. “Besides, you have something else to tell me.”

“Ah-ha, right,” Spitfire scoffed, her voice trailing off. “Why don’t we go sit in the kitchen?”

Fleetfoot nodded and then looks back at the couch. “I am never sitting on your couch again…”

Spitfire giggled. The two walked into Spitfire’s kitchen and approached the table. Spitfire pulled out a seat for herself, while Fleetfoot took one across from her. As they both sat down and got comfortable, Spitfire began the conversation.

“So about my relationship with Soarin…”

Fleetfoot nodded and put her hooves on the table.

“I think he knows that we’re through for good. I can’t trust  a stallion who can’t even put his heart to his partner.” She shakily sighed. “I’m tired of being cheated on.” Spitfire leaned back in her chair and nervously twiddled with her forehooves. “And I just want a real relationship...”

Fleetfoot slightly tilted her head. “Well, what do you mean by a real relationship?”

Spitfire continued twiddling with her hooves, before she curled up into a ball. “Well I want somepony who isn’t as dense as Soarin," she muttered.

Fleetfoot smiled. “He is pretty dense…”

Spitfire chuckled. “Yeah, just like a lot of stallions,” Spitfire said while putting her hooves back on the table.

Fleetfoot giggled. “Well, you know how they are: denser than mercury and duller than any kitchen knife in the drawers. They’ll fall to the ground pretty hard.”

Spitfire and Fleetfoot begin to laugh loudly. After laughing for a couple of minutes, the two stand up and reach out to hoof bump from across the table. “We need to hang out more, Fleetfoot,” Spitfire says, gazing into her friend’s eyes.

“Right back at you, Spitfire,” Fleetfoot replied, looking at Spitfire.

Then, Fleetfoot moves her hooves away and smiles at Spitfire. “I got an idea, why don’t we go on an early vacation?”

“Early…” Spitfire begins, her eyes widening. “...vacation?”

Fleetfoot nods. “Exactly, we should go someplace where not many ponies go to…”

“And where would that be Miss Fleeter?” Spitfire says with a smirk.

“Oh shut up,” Fleetfoot says in annoyance. “You know that nickname is stupid.”

Spitfire frowns. “Not as stupid and embarrassing as Fireball.”

“Look,” Fleetfoot says, leaning back in the chair. “I’m sorry.”

Spitfire raises an eyebrow at this. “What?”

Fleetfoot sighs, “I only called you Fireball because I thought it was cool…”

Spitfire grins. “Are you pulling a Rainbow Dash on me?”

It’s Fleetfoot’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “What?”

Spitfire smiles, putting a hoof out to playfully tap Fleetfoot on the shoulder. “Oh don’t give me that look!”

Fleetfoot looks down. “I’m just sorry, I didn’t know it affected you so much.”

Spitfire sighs and gets up out of her chair to sit next to her. She carefully puts a wing around Fleetfoot. “It’s okay, but I don’t mind it as much as you think,” Spitfire begins, tightening her grip around Fleetfoot. “Besides, it allows me to call you Miss Fleeter.”

Fleetfoot looks up at Spitfire and playfully shoves her wing, causing Spitfire to lose her grip and fall over. Spitfire yelps as she hits the ground hard, but not without Fleetfoot. As Spitfire falls to the ground, Spitfire grabs the back left foot of the chair with her hoof and tugs, the chair slipping out underneath Fleetfoot. Fleetfoot notices the sudden lack of support and falls on her rump, colliding with Spitfire’s right wing.

The Spitfire and Fleetfoot look at each other, the blank faces meeting each other up close. The mares then smile, and pull their hooves out from underneath each other. In less than seconds, the room is filled with laughter, the sounds of the two tickling each other could be heard throughout the apartment. Spitfire versus Fleetfoot, a battle of epic proportions.

Spitfire swings a hoof around Fleetfoot’s neck and begins to rub along the side of her neck, causing Spitfire to chuckle lightly. As Spitfire concentrates on Fleetfoot’s neck, Fleetfoot responds by putting her hooves around Spitfire’s right wing, causing Spitfire’s wing to shoot up. Spitfire begins to giggle loudly, but cannot give up her fight. She begins swatting her wing around, attempting to stop Fleetfoot’s onslaught.

Fleetfoot sees the swift beating of Spitfire’s wings, a sign of a desperate attempt to stop her siege. As a counter, Fleetfoot slides her one hoof down Spitfire’s chest before shooting back up to rub her other wing. Spitfire’s left wing shoots up and begins to flap wildly, her screams of laughter increasing in intensity. Fleetfoot smirks and swings her back hoof over Spitfire, and stands above her.

Spitfire sees Fleetfoot’s left back hoof swoop over her side.

I can’t let her win.

In an attempt to stop the pinning, Spitfire rubs her leg against Fleetfoot’s thigh, causing Fleetfoot to look up and moan loudly. Fleetfoot casts her gaze down to Spitfire. “Spitfire, I didn’t know you swung that way.”

Spitfire blushes and throws her competitor off her. “No, just a tactical move to get you off me.”

Fleetfoot lands to the left of Spitfire, causing her to hit the dividing wall between the kitchen and the living room. She rubs her back with her hoof and looks down. Fleetfoot sighs and asks downtrodden,  “So you don’t swing that way?”

Spitfire raises an eyebrow. “Do you?”

Fleetfoot shyly nods. “Both ways…”

Spitfire eyes widen. “Well,” she starts, looking at Fleetfoot curiously. “That’s why you moaned.”

Fleetfoot continues to look down, her cheeks rosy like the color red, the various tints showing. “I-”

Spitfire puts her hoof on Fleetfoot’s shoulder. “It’s okay, I just prefer stallions over mares.”

Fleetfoot looks up at Spitfire. “So this doesn’t complicate things?”

Why would it?

Spitfire shakes her head. “No, it doesn’t,” She says, still glancing at Fleetfoot. Spitfire gets up off the ground and puts out a hoof for Fleetfoot. Her teammate sighs and grabs on the hoof. Spitfire pulls her up and the two return to their original seats. Once seated, the two simultaneously sigh and Spitfire begins the conversation. “So, where are we going, Fleetfoot?”

Fleetfoot looks down and says, “Ponyville…”

What?

“Pardon?”

Fleetfoot looks up and says, “You don’t know what Ponyville is?”

Spitfire shakes her head. “I know what Ponyville is, I just didn’t think I’d go there for a ‘vacation’.”

Fleetfoot rolls her eyes. “Well, I think if we’d go some place where no would expect us to go to,” Fleetfoot says with a smirk. “Besides, you can maybe catch yourself a stallion there.”

Spitfire rolls her eyes while Fleetfoot giggles at her. “It’s not funny,” Spitfire says while attempting to shove her teammate off her chair.

Fleetfoot smiles while dodging her Captain’s meager shove. “Was to me!”

Spitfire ignores her comment. “So, when are we going to Ponyville?”

Spitfire sees Fleetfoot twiddling her forehooves and nervously smiling at her. “Well,” Fleetfoot murmurs. “I didn’t get that far yet…”

Spitfire looks away from Fleetfoot, glancing over at the clock by the couch. “Oh,” Spitfire quietly says in reply. Spitfire looks back over at Fleetfoot, her eyes meeting her friend’s gaze. “How about tomorrow?”

Fleetfoot eyes widen and begins to nervously stutter, “B-but we can’t do that on such s-short notice!” Fleetfoot waves her forehooves around. “Remember last time when we did something like this? Our boss flipped two hundred tables in a row and it wasn’t even for a world record!” She stops her forehoof-flailing due to Spitfire glaring at her.

“Fleetfoot, I already told the boss about vacationing sometime soon,” Spitfire begins, waving her left forehoof in a circle as she speaks. “I haven’t taken a vacation in at least two years, so I definitely can take one anytime…” Spitfire grabs Fleetfoot’s hoof, which was twitching on the table. “It’s okay, we’ll be fine.”

Fleetfoot sighs and says, “Okay, let’s we’ll go talk to the boss tomorrow.” Fleetfoot stands on all fours and pushes in her chair. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the gates, then?” Fleetfoot asks cheerfully.

Spitfire gets out of her seat and nods. “I’ll see you then.” Spitfire trots over to the door and unlocks it for Fleetfoot. She opens the door, allowing for her teammate to leave.

“Night,” Fleetfoot murmurs, turning away from Spitfire.

“Night,” Spitfire says in reply.

With one final nod from Fleetfoot, the mare leaves Spitfire’s apartment, leaving Spitfire to her own thoughts.

“Ponyville, huh?” She says, quietly trotting over to the window. She looks down from her apartment highrise to see the vast landscape ahead of them, the hills rolling in the distance. “I wonder what it’s like this time of year…”

Spitfire turns and looks at her room.

“Guess I’ll do a little packing now…”