#OH yeah. u can have that with jon too without needing to make him have colored eyes. idk i dont really care i dont actually interact
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also while im on it i dont care how magic a character is not everyone needs to have colored eyes. its like. fine to give people dark brown/ black eyes even if theyre "magical" or some shit.
#like i get it but#idk this is a problem i have with magnus fans mostly#like outside of the fact that i dont like giving poc characters european features for no fucking reason#the whole point of it is that you CANT tell that hes Fucked Up just by looking at him#and mfs are out here like :) actually he has neon green eyes#FREE ME. sorry.#only character i accept as having weird eyss is elias#bc . look at him. or jonah i guess cuz its his eyes but#elias is supposed to have a creepy ass stare.#and anyway point is i feel like you can have that with jon but iirc he doesnt have the same powers as elias?its a different kind of eye shi#OH yeah. u can have that with jon too without needing to make him have colored eyes. idk i dont really care i dont actually interact#with magnus fandom outside of elias shit anymore generally#i think the point i was trying to make earlier was it makes sense for elias to have his creepy grey eyes because he SEES like actually sees#and jons (I AM LIKELY VERY WRONG. I DO NOT KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT TMA) jons whole thing is knowing shit. yk.#feel free to correct me if you think im wrong or if i dont understand/ am misremembering canon here
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What We Used to Be - Jey Uso x Black!OC
I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS
â€Â Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated â€Â
All OC Characters belong to me
Main Masterlist
This will remain a ONESHOT, no part twos â€ïž
April 11th 2017
JaiFelix_WWE
liked by trinity_fatu, sashabankswwe, and 300,000 others
JaiFelix_WWE: If you're not watching Smackdown tonight, what are you doing??!
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user: dreaming about us being together
trinity_fatu : JAI- JAI đ
carmellawwe: looking good girl!
jonathanfatu: can u delete this plz! got my wife licking her phone!
âȘJaiFelix_WWE: @jonathanfatu LMAO!
Jaiania held her breath as she walked past Josh and his twin brother Jon. She kept her head down, hoping they didnât notice her walking by them. She absolutely did not want to have a conversation with either of them - especially Josh -. After their failed relationship and trainwreck of a breakup, she would rather play in traffic than have a conversation with him.Â
She almost made it past them without being noticed. âDamn girl you just gon walk right past us.â That was Jon. Jaiania forced a smile on her face and turned around to face them.Â
âOh, hey.â She said, keeping her eyes on Jon. âDidnât see you there.â She shrugged when he gave her a âyeah rightâ look. Josh crossed his arms over his chest and rolled his eyes when he realized that she was trying her hardest to not look in his direction.Â
This is awkward she thought as she rocked back on her heels before pointing in the direction she was walking.Â
âI gotta go. Nice seeing you though,â She said to Jon, still ignoring Joshuaâs presence.Â
She hurried down the hallway feeling their eyes on her.Â
Jon turned to his brother once she rounded the corner. âLook at what you did,â He said, smacking Josh on his chest. Josh rolled his eyes.Â
âI ain't do shit. Come on, we gotta get ready.â Josh did not want to hear that bullshit. He was in the wrong just as much as she was but since everyone loved Jaiania he took all the blame.Â
Jaiaina groaned as she saw Jon and Josh walking her way a couple of hours later. This must be my lucky day, two times in one night, she thought bitterly. She could normally avoid Jon and Josh but they seemed to be everywhere she was today.
âCongratulations guys.â She said referring to the Smackdown tag team titles they had just won from Chad Gable and Jason Jordan.Â
âThank you, Jai,â Jon said, trying to give her a sweaty hug. She pretended to throw up and moved away from him. âIs your arm okay tho? That rinpost spot looked pretty rough.âÂ
âIâm totally fine.â Jaiaina lied. âLooked way worse than it actually was.â She said, smiling at him.Â
âYeet!â He said, making Jaiaina roll her eyes. âWe goinâ out to celebrate our big win tonight, you in?â Â
Jaiaina let her eyes cut over to Josh who thankfully wasnât looking at her. âUh. I canât. I have plans already.â That got Joshâs attention. He looked up from his phone and squinted his eyes at her. He wasn't normally one for gossip but he had heard some things about Jaiaina and another one of their co-workers recently.Â
âSo the rumors are true huh?â He said with a scoff. âYou move on fast.â Jaiaina cut her eyes back over to him and glared.Â
âExcuse me?â She asked, crossing her arms over her chest.Â
Josh sucked his teeth and narrowed his eyes at her. âYou heard me.âÂ
Jon let his eyes ping pong between the two of them. He knew he needed to stop them before they became explosive. âUce, come on. It ainât worth it. â Jon said trying to pull his brother along but Josh wasnât budging. âJosh, stop. Letâs go UceâÂ
âYeah, I think that's a good idea,â Jaiaina said as she rolled her eyes and turned to walk away from them. 6 months of silence and the first thing he said to her is something about some bullshit ass rumors?! PatheticÂ
âAnd then he had the nerve to talk about me moving on too fast,â Jaiaina said to Trinity and Carmella as they sat in the VIP section of a club. âI mean, he broke up with me. What does he care if I moved on or not.â She said as she downed another shot. Carmelle and Trinity shared a look but didnât say anything. âAnd what fucking rumors?!â She turned to her best friends. âYall heard rumors about me?â She let out a scoff and rolled her eyes when they both nodded.Â
âYeah, but we obviously don't believe it,â Carmella said.Â
âWhat's the rumor though?âÂ
Carmella shrugged and sipped her drink. âSomething about you and AJâÂ
Jaiaina's eyes widened. âAJ STYLES?!â She asked louder than necessary. âEw, what the fuck. Where did that fucking come from?â
 Carmella sighed. âOkay, here's what I know. Apparently, someone saw you and him leaving a hotel room together a couple of weeks ago.â
 Jaiaina scoffed and rolled her eyes. âDo these people know that heâs married and I would never do that to Wendy or his children?â She sighed. âAnd Josh knows that Allen was my mentor during my time in TNA.âÂ
âGirl you know how Josh is. Heâs being an ass because he misses you.â Trinity said and Jaiaina rolled her eyes. Â
âYeah well, he shouldnât believe rumors about me.âÂ
âAnd you miss him too, right?â Trinity questioned.Â
Jaiania rolled her eyes. âOf course I miss him, I never said I didnât.â
â Do you still love him?âÂ
Jaiaian took another sip of her drink before answering. âYes I still love him, but it is extremely obvious that he never did. We break up and the first thing he does is go fuck on one of our coworkers? Thatâs foul. Now every time I walk past that hoe she got a fucking smirk on her face that I wanna smack off. âÂ
Trinity and Carmella found themselves nodding along with Jaiainaâs statement. It was an extremely foul thing for Josh to do.Â
âI still donât know what possessed him to do that. âÂ
âI do.â Jaiaina rolled her eyes. âHe been wanting to fuck Dasha. Surprised he didnât do it while we were dating.âÂ
Trinity rolled her eyes at her friend. âJosh may have been an asshole but we all know he wouldnât cheat on you.âÂ
Jaiaina hummed as she took a sip of her drink. She then eyed her friend. âShouldnât you be out celebrating with your husband?âÂ
âOh, about that.âÂ
Jai narrowed her eyes at Trinity before letting out a gasp. âYou didnât !âÂ
âIâm sorry! I know we already planned this girl's night and I didnât wanna flake on y'all.âÂ
Jai scoffed and turned towards Carmella who was already looking at her with guilty eyes.Â
âI invited Corey too.âÂ
Jaiaina had to stop herself from throwing a temper tantrum. âYou guysâ she whined. âGirls night mean just girls.â She pouted.Â
Trinity and Carmella burst into laughter. âWeâre sorry! But look, we can have a girl's night once we go back to Florida. Just us.âÂ
âFine,â Jaiaina said, still pouting. Just as she was about to take another sip of her drink, Jon, Josh and⊠Dasha fucking Jackson. Jaiaina scoffed and adverted her eyes from the couple.Â
âIâm sorry,â Trin whispered as stood and greeted her husband and Corey purposely ignoring Josh and Dasha. Carmella did the same and Jaiania couldnât have been more grateful for her friends.Â
Donât let it get to you, Donât let it get to you. She repeated in her head as Dasha made a point of showing she was Joshâs girl now by placing a kiss on his lips. Once Dasha looked in her direction, Jaiaina stood from her seat and walked over to the bar. The drama was something she did not need nor want tonight.Â
She let out a heavy sigh as she leaned against the bar. She had successfully gone months without being in the same space as Josh because it hurt. It hurt to look at him and not be with him. She said some foul things the day they broke up and so did he, but she never expected him to literally go and fuck another woman THE SAME NIGHT.Â
âCâmon, you too pretty to be frowning.â Jaiaina had to stop herself from swinging on the slimeball that just slithered his way next to her. She turned her head to the side to face him and he smiled thinking he got her attention. She cringed at the food he had stuck in his teeth.Â
âThank you,â She said referring to the compliment. âBut, uh no thanks.â She said referring to his advances. The bartender set down her rum punch, Jaiaina grabbed the drink and tried to walk away but the guy grabbed her arm.Â
âDonât be fucking rude.â He scoffed. âYou didnât even ask me my name.âÂ
âThatâs cause I donât wanna know your name!â She said, trying to pull her arm out of his grasp. Just from how tight his grip was, she knew she was going to have a bruise. âLet go of me!âÂ
âDonât be such a bitch!â He spat at her, Just as Jai was lifting her knee to hit him in his balls, he was forcefully grabbed, which caused him to release her arm.Â
âThe fuck is you doinâ?!â Â
Jaiaina let out a gasp as Josh pushed the slimeball down to the ground. By now, more than half of the bar had turned their attention to them. âDonât put yaâ fucking hands on her like that. Fuck is wrong witchu?!âÂ
Slimy McSlimerson tried to kick his feet at Josh but Josh sidestepped them and then kicked slimeball in his face, knocking him onto his back. Slimy let out a groan as he started to hold his now broken nose.Â
âYou alright?â The bartender asked coming around the bar and taking Jaiâs arm in his hands, inspecting it. âYou want me to call the cops?âÂ
Josh gently pulled Jaiaina away from the bartender, making him drop her arm. Jaiainaâs eyebrows furrowed together as Josh wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer, tucking her into his side. âNah, we good,â Josh said eyeing Slimy on the ground. Josh was tempted to knock Slimyâs teeth down his throat but decided against it as he led Jai out of the club and into the night's cool air.Â
Jaiaina said nothing as she let Josh lead her outside. She momentarily allowed herself to lean into his familiar touch before remembering their current situation. âIâm fine now.â She said, taking another step away from him. âYou can go back into the bar.âÂ
âAnd leave you out here?â He asked. âBabâJaiaina, you shaking.âÂ
âOkay, so send Trin or Mella out here. Go back inside.â Josh sucked bus teeth and pulled off his black bomber jacket he was wearing and handed it to her.Â
âJust take the damn jacket JaiâÂ
âI donât want your damn jacket, Joshua. And I damn sure didnât need your help back there. I had it.â
Josh scoffed and grabbed her arm, making them both look down at the purple bruise that was forming. âYeah okay.â He snorted. He hated that she was so stubborn. âYou can hate me all you want Jaiaina. But if you gonâ wait out here in the damn cold, take the damn jacket.âÂ
Jaiaina huffed and snatched the jacket out of his hands. âHappy?â She asked with a sarcastic smile and she slid her arms into the jacket.Â
âVery.â Just as he said that the side door to the bar opened and her group of friends and Dasha spilled out. Dasha eyed the jacket and then narrowed her eyes at Josh, who was still looking at Jaiaina.Â
âGirl! Are you okay?!â Trinity cried out as she and Leah rushed over to their best friend. Jai broke eye contact with Josh and turned her head towards her friends.Â
âIâm fine. Just some weirdo who doesnât understand the meaning of No.â Â
Trinity, being the emotional drunk wrapped her arms around Jaiâs head and pulled her down, so Jaiâs head was resting on her breast. âIâm so sorry I wasnât there to help you friend.â She whispered as a few tears slipped down her face. Jon and Josh sucked their teeth.Â
âMan, Trin get off her.â Jai let out a soft laugh as Jon pulled Trinity away from her.Â
âDid I ruin the mood? Or can we go back in?â Jaiaina asked.Â
âHell no! You didnât ruin the mood! Câmon!â Leah said as she grabbed Trinityâs and Jaiainaâs hands and started to lead them inside.Â
âActually. Iâm not in the party spirit anymore⊠Weâre gonna head back to the hotel. Dasha said as she walked over to Josh. Jaiaina hated the way her heart tightened in her chest. Jaiaina watched as Dasha slipped her hand into Joshâs, her fingers curling around his in that intimate, effortless way that people who were in love did.Â
âAre you sure you donât want to stay for a bit longer?â Josh asked, his voice soft but laced with that familiar warmth Jaiaina had once loved.
Dasha's hand tightened around his. âIâm sure. Come on, letâs go.â There was a finality to her words that Jaiaina couldnât ignore.
Jaiainaâs chest tightened. It shouldnât hurt this much. It shouldnât hurt at all.
She and Josh had broken up for a reasonâno matter how hard it had been. She told herself she was over it. Jaiaina forced herself to look away from the couple.Â
âI think I'm gonna head back too. I forgot I have an early flight to Birmingham in the morning.âÂ
Birmingham? Josh arched his eyebrow at the mention of Birmingham. He knew there was only one reason why she was going there, which meant she lied to Jon earlier when he asked about her arm.Â
Trinity and Leah shot her playful glares, but their smiles quickly softened into teasing hugs. After making Jaiaina promise to hang out once all three of them were in Florida, Jon, Trin, Leah and Corey walked back inside the bar.Â
Jaiaina stood there awkwardly. She pulled her phone out of her clutch and ordered an Uber. She could feel Josh and Dashaâs eyes on her.Â
âOh, your jacket,â Dasha said as their Uber pulled up.Â
âShe can keep it. Itâs cold as hell out here Baby.â Baby.. just hearing that Josh had a nickname for Dasha made Jaiaina sick to her stomach. Â
âItâs fine..â Jaiaina trailed off as she took the jack off and handed it back to Josh. âI should have brought out my own coat.âÂ
âYeah, you should have.â Dasha scoffed and snatched the jacket out of Jaiâs hands.Â
Be the bigger person Jaiaina thought, donât beat this bitchâs ass.Â
âCâmon man, you ain't have to snatch it,â Josh muttered as he walked towards the Uber. Dasha rolled her eyes and stomped after him.Â
âWell, why did you give her your jacket? Could have let the hoe freeze for all I care.âÂ
Jaiaina gritted her teeth as the door to the Uber slammed shut and they drove away. She closed her eyes and tried to remember the deep breathing exercises her therapist told her to do. Forcing herself to take slow, deliberate breaths in and out. In through the nose, out through the mouth...
It didnât work. Not this time.
Dasha was so lucky that Jaiaina actually enjoyed her job, cause Jai would have BEEN beat her ass by now.Â
Jaiainaâs head had barely hit the pillow before three sharp, rhythmic knocks echoed through the room. Her stomach twisted into knots at the sound of the knocks.Â
There was only one person in the whole world that knew three was her safe number. Sighing, she threw the covers off of her, grabbed her pink Versace robe, and opened the door.
âWhy did you lie to twin earlier?â Jaiaina blinked.Â
What?â she scoffed, a quick laugh escaping her. âWhat are you talking about?â
âEarlier, Jon asked about your arm. You said you were fine but you not. Why you going to Birmingham in the morning.âÂ
âWhat I have going on in my life doesnât concern you anymore Joshua,â Jaiaina said firmly, trying to shut down the conversation before it could go any further.
âDonât do that.â He muttered, his eyes never leaving hers. âDonât act like you werenât a major part of my life.âÂ
âI was. Not anymore Joshua. Go back to Dasha and leave me alone.âÂ
Joshâs jaw tightened as he took a deep breath trying to compose himself. âLook, I know ââÂ
âNo,â Jaiaina said as she started to shake her head. âIâm not doing this with you.â Josh looked confused as she started to close the door in his face, at the last second, he put his foot in between the door and the fame. Jaiaine huffed as he easily overpowered her and gently pushed her away from the door.Â
She stomped over to the bed and threw herself down on it, while Josh shut the door behind her and went to sit in the armchair that was placed between the bed and the window.Â
âJosh, it's been six months since we last talked. Letâs just go back to that.âÂ
âI donât want to. I fucking miss you Jaiaina.âÂ
Jaiaina laughed making Josh scoff.Â
âThe hell so funny?âÂ
âYOU!â She exclaimed as she jumped from the bed and pointed at him. âYou think you can just come swoop in like some type of Superman after what you did?! Fuck off, Joshua!âÂ
âJai, I know I said some fucked up shit but -âÂ
âSaid?! No nigga. It's about what you did!â She cut him off. âThe fact that you fucked that bitch the same night we broke up was foul as hell Joshua!âÂ
âWoah!â He called out, jumping to his feet. âI ain't do no shit like that. Fuck is you talking about.âÂ
Jaiaina let out a humorless laugh. âYeah okay.â She said mockingly with a roll of her eyes. âThe bitch already told anybody who would listen. The same night you walked out of our hotel room, you went to her! And you fucked her.â Jaiaina couldnât hold it back anymore, the tears that threatened to spill since the bar came flowing down her face.
"Jai, I swear to you, that's ainât what happened," Josh said, his voice low and urgent. He took a step towards her, but Jaiaina backed away, shaking her head.
âDonât Joshua. Just leave.âÂ
âHell no. Iâm not going anywhere. I lost you once, Iâm not doing It again.âÂ
Jaiaina childishly covered her ears. âIâm not listening to any of the bullshit you are spewing tonight Joshua!â She uncovered her ears and narrowed her eyes at Josh. âOkay let's just say, you didnât have sex with her the same night. Youâre still with her now! And donât deny it, I heard you call her baby.â When Josh didnât deny it, Jaiaina felt her heart break even more. âPlease just go. Go back to your girlfriend and go back to ignoring me.â She whispered as she lowered her eyes to the ground.Â
Jaiaina heard him sniffle but she didnât lift her head to look at him. âI never wanted to hurt you Jai.â Jaiaina didnât say anything back, she didnât have anything to say. She was exhausted. She just wanted to go to sleep and forget all about Josh by the morning.Â
Josh sighed and started walking towards the door, the silence between them was too much. It was suffocating. He wanted to fix it. He wanted to make things right. But he didnât know how. With one last glance at Jaiaina, he turned and walked out the door.Â
As soon as the door shut, Jaiaina broke down, she covered her mouth with her hand to try and hide her sobs. Outside, Josh leaned against the closed door, his forehead pressed against the cool wood. He could hear Jaiaina's muffled cries through the thin barrier, and each sob felt like a knife twisting in his gut. He wanted nothing more than to burst back in, to take her in his arms and explain everything. But he knew she wouldn't listen, not now.
April 18th 2017
Birmingham, Alabama
Jaiaina knew it was stupid to go through this surgery alone, but WWE provided the best doctors so she knew she was in good hands.Â
Waking up from surgery was a feeling she would never get used to. She let out a groan at the dull ache in her right shoulder and immediately she heard someone shh her and place a straw at her lips. The comforting sensation of the water helped clear some of the haze, but as she blinked her eyes open, the shock of who was sitting next to her hit her like a ton of bricks.
âI gotchu, relax.âÂ
âWhat are you doing here?â She whispered, her voice scratchy and weak from the anesthesia.
âMaking sure you alright and not alone.âÂ
âJosh please ââÂ
He shushed her again. âI broke whatever I had with Dasha off. Imma be truthful and say that yeah, I got with her to fuck with you after I heard the rumor about you and AJ but, I did not have sex with her that same night. To be honest, I never had sex with her, I havenât had sex with anybody since you.âÂ
Jaiainaâs jaw dropped open. She didnât know how to respond to that. She had spent the past six months hating Josh because she thought he was a slimy asshole. She didnât know how to feel right now.Â
âJosh I-â She started,Â
âIâm not asking you to forgive me, Jaiaina,â Josh continued, his voice soft but firm. âNot right away. Aight? I know I messed up, and I know itâs not gonna be easy. But Iâm willing to work this out, but only if you want to.â
Jaiaina stared into his eyes, no matter how hard she tried she would never get rid of the love she had for this man. It was a big relief to finally hear the truth about the night that they broke up but he still hurt her by ignoring her for six months.Â
âPlease.â He whispered. âI always seen you in my life. Always seen you as the mother of my kids. Just give me one more chance.âÂ
Jaiainaâs breath caught in her throat. This was the most vulnerable she had ever seen him in the three years they had dated.Â
âOkay,â She whispered, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. âBut I swear on everything I love, this is your LAST chance.âÂ
Josh's face lit up with a mixture of relief and hope. He gently took Jaiaina's hand, careful not to disturb the IV line. âI promise you, I won't mess this up again. I love you too damn much.âÂ
Jaiaina stared at him for a second before a small smile came across her face. âI love you too.âÂ
Authors Note: I'm sorry if this sucked đźâđšđ«
I've had this halfway written for about a year and just decided to say fuck it and finish it. I really do hope you all enjoy it! â€ïž
Side Note:
Jaiaina had torn rotator cuff.
Josh definitely bribed and threatened an intern to tell him what was wrong with Jaiaina LOL!
đ·ïž: @paigereeder @harmshake @empressdede @theninthwonder @jaethaone
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@trashbin-nie @adoreesun @shayaaaaaaa @bebesobrielo @bookuce
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@justazzi @jstarr86 @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @vampygomez @msbigredmachine
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@amandairene88 @scarlettnoir01 @bonni-98 @sassginamillls @rebelrel0987
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#wwe#jey uso#jey uso x black reader#jey uso x reader#jey uso x black oc#jey uso x fem reader#jey uso x you#jey uso x y/n#jey uso x black fem reader#wwe x black oc#wwe x black reader#wwe x reader#wwe angst#jey uso angst
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Adam's connecting flight gets delayed, and who else should be on the flight but Jon Moxley. They decide to share a hotel room, but, oh no, what could possibly go wrong? Or right?
~
Being in an airport really does inspire a person, doesn't it? Also this has been lingering in the back of my noggin for months.
~
Adam drops his head when the announcement comes on again.
âJesus fuckinâ Christ,â he mutters. He should have taken the Bucks up on their invite to stay in one of their guest rooms â thereâs no way heâs getting home any time soon at this point.
Stuck at the airport want to die, Adam texts Matt
Itâs almost immediate that he gets back, told u so
Sometimes I actually hate you
<3 <3 <3 <3
He resists the urge to text Nick, who will probably be the exact same as Matt, just a little less overtly bitchy. He stretches out in the airport chair as he listens to the flight attendant repeat the announcement for the third time.
âAgain, flight 1883 out of San Diego to Cincinnati is cancelled due to weather events across the Great Plains,â she says, sounding too chipper for the announcement. âWe will be happy to help any stranded passengers make alternate plans.â
Adam curses the need for layovers as he gets up to the counter, Orville Peckâs newest album keeping him from losing it as he waits behind soccer moms and business professionals and, to his amusement, one of the crew guys from the night before. He doesnât seem to recognize Adam, and Adamâs not going to get in the way of whatever heâs got going on in his headphones.
When he finally gets up to the counter, he exhales with relief. âHey, there, maâam, I was hoping you could help me out.â
âCertainly, sir,â she says. âTell me what your situation is.â
Adam begins talking, and practically jumps when he hears an obnoxiously familiar voice go, âOh, fuck me.â
Adam squeezes his eyes shut and exhales. He should have known this was coming. âLord save me now.â
âI know,â says the counter attendant, sympathetic smile not helping in the slightest. âFlight delays are frustrating.â
âOh, no itâs not that. Itâs just â â He stops himself from going into a detailed rant about just how perfect it is that heâs going to be stuck in the same airport as Jon Moxley for the foreseeable future. âNever mind. Regarding the flights, I have a connection that thereâs no way Iâm making.â
âYeah, unfortunately thatâs going to be the case,â she says, frowning. âHow about this. We can book you a hotel room,â she does some clicking, âand get you a new fight forâŠwell, it looks like, in order not to give you a 12 hour layover, we can get you out of here on a flight directly to Virginia tomorrow at 4pm.â She smiles at him. âDoes that sound like it could work?â
Adam nods. âThat sounds like a great alternative. I appreciate your help.â
She prints him out a boarding pass and a hotel receipt, only to turn to run smack into Mox.
âJesus, youâre charming as fuck even in a stressful situation,â Mox says, grinning at him. âEver turn it off?â
âYouâve seen what I do when I turn it off,â Adam says, refusing to meet his eyes. Itâs unfortunate, then, that his gaze lingers on Moxâs lips. On the way his tee shirt gaps a little at the collar. âYou get hung by a chain in front of thousands on a pay per view.â
Moxâs grin goes a little predatory. âYeah. Anyway, hope your day sucks.â
âWhat? I â fine. You too. Prick.â
Mox winks at him and gets into line just in time for Adam to get a phone call heâs not going to be able to finish without plugging in his phone. So he, with CD on the other end of the line checking in on him, is privy to the shitshow in front of him.
âThereâs no more hotel rooms?!â says the lady who had been standing a few people behind him. He remembers she was the one loudly listening to videos on her phone in between complaining. âThen find me a different one!â
âMaâam, there are no more hotel rooms we are able to ââ
âWell thatâs your fault, isnât it?!â she shrieks. She turns to the line of people behind her. âArenât you all just as angry? We want to get home! We paid good money for these tickets!â She turns back to the attendant. âAre you the most competent person I can deal with? Do they only hire idiots?â
âChris, I gotta go,â Adam mutters into the phone. âIâm good, though, you donât need to worry about me.â
âAlright, Hanger.â Chris sounds skeptical, which is fair, but he hangs up anyway.
Adamâs in the process of standing up to go give the lady a piece of his mind when Mox steps out of line to swagger up to the complainer. âYo, lady, Iâm not sure what your problem is, but you donât see any of us acting like toddlers who didnât get a cookie.â He does that stance, arms behind his back, like heâs daring someone to hit him. âChill out.â
âI,â she says, âam a very important oil executive, sir, and I have places to be. People require my presence to complete their jobs.â She looks Mox up and down, taking in his ratty jacket, ripped jeans, and faded tee shirt. Her eyes linger on the scars on his forehead. âI can see you donât have much experience in that arena.â
Mox scoffs. âLady, Iâm a wrestler. Like a pro one? Like on TV? Not to toot my own horn, but Iâm pretty sure Iâm just as whatever as you are and Iâm not being a bitch.â
Adam snickers into his hand. Itâs not quiet enough â Mox glances over his shoulder and grins at Adam. âSee? That guys a wrestler, too. And he was perfectly civil. So you can grow the fuck up and act like a human or you can keep this up and Iâll put you in a headlock.â
âYou wouldnât dare,â she says. Adam knows that face. Sheâs trying to call Moxâs bluff. Adam giggles again.
âHey, Cowboy,â Mox says, âwhat did I do to you in that match?â
âBefore I choked you out with a chain?â Adam asks. âYou tried to break my hand between two bricks.â
âRight,â Mox says. He turns back to the lady, whose face has turned a weird shade of green. âSo, like, if youâre gonna go after this nice person trying to help you, I kinda hope you go full on nutjob and jump the counter. Iâd love give you a suplex onto the floor.â
Adamâs full on laughing as the lady sputters some nonsense. She snatches the boarding pass that the flight attendant had been holding out for her and stomps off. âI hope you get a concussion,â she snarls at Mox and Adam as she leaves.
âBeen there, done that, lady,â Mox calls after her.
Adam lets the laughter fade. âYou got a way of handling assholes, thatâs for sure.â
âOnly way Iâve survived being coworkers with you,â Mox says. âIâm fucked, though. Stuck sleeping on airplane chairs like itâs 2003 again.â
Adam practically sees his options scatter across his vision. Take the hotel room and enjoy a night to himself. Offer the room to Mox and be stuck here. Give the hotel room to someone else so theyâre both miserable together.
Or.
âI mean, you can come with me,â Adam says. âIâm sure we can avoid killing each other for a night so we can both get decent sleep.â
Mox stares at him for a second. âWhat?â
âYou donât have to,â Adam says, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder. âJust saying you could be, like, not a weird martyr and take the comfortable option.â Heâs about to walk away, hand on his rolling carryon, when Mox sighs.
âI like that you think spending time with you is better than being stuck in an airport,â Mox says, but he grabs his carryon and starts walking. Adam falls into pace next to him.
âDick,â Adam says, grinning. âYou look like youâre coming with me, though, so Iâd say Iâm better than an airport.â
âIâm too fuckinâ old to try and sleep on airplane carpet,â Mox says, rolling his shoulders. âPlus, I got that GCW match on Sunday and I really donât want to be fucked up for it.â
âOh, right,â Adam says, sliding out of the way for a family of what appears to be four thousand blocking the path, âbecause a GCW match requires tip top shape to get bludgeoned to death with a trash can.â
Mox stares at him. âWe just bludgeoned you and your boys with worse than trash cans, so I have no idea where this high and mighty bullshit is coming from.â
Adam opens his mouth to argue before realizing, annoyed, that Mox is right. âWell shit.â
Navigating the airport to get to the hotel is easier than Adam had thought, but with a chattering Mox behind him making commentary on everything itâs less smooth.
âDo you ever shut up?â Adam asks as they settle in line at the hotel. âSeriously, I donât think Iâve said anything in ten minutes, but youâve spoken a novelâs worth.â
Mox shrugs. âIâm fidgety. I talk when Iâm fidgety. That a problem for you?â
âIf you talk in your fuckinâ sleep, it is,â Adam says, but heâs sure to smile to make it sound like less of a death threat. The people in front of them in line keep looking back at them, concerned. Adam doesnât want the cops called on him. âNow shut up for, like, two minutes while I get checked in.â
âYou better ask for two beds,â Mox says. âI ainât cuddling with you, Cowboy.â
âIâm sure thereâs two queens,â Adam replies.
Mox giggles.
âWhatâs so funny about that?â
âJust, if thereâs two queens, itâs the Bucks, right?â
Adam kicks him in the shins.
~
âAnd thereâs a king bed in this room,â says the attendant when he gets his key cards.
Adam blinks. âIâm â just a king bed?â
âYes, sir,â she says. âItâs the only room left.â
âAlright,â Adam says. Heâll sleep in the bathtub if he comes to it. Anything to get this shit show over with. âYeah, itâll work. I appreciate the help.â
Mox steps in pace with him, like a puppy learning how to heel, as Adam makes his way to the elevator. âSo, we gonna fight on who gets the bed?â
âIâll sleep in the tub if it means you shut up,â Adam deadpans, pressing the button for the elevator.
Mox slides into the elevator, and grabs Adamâs carryon to move it with him. AdamâsâŠconfused, but appreciative. âI was kidding about the cuddling bit,â Mox says. âI mean, youâre letting me stay in your hotel room. Iâll sleep in the tub or on the floor.â
âThat canât be much better than an airport carpet,â Adam says. He checks the key card â fourth floor, room 451. Before he can press the button, Mox has reaches out and practically punched the button for number 4.
Mox is quiet for a few minutes, long enough to make Adam wonder what heâs planning. âOr,â Mox says as the elevators doors open. He grabs Adamâs carryon again and hauls both suitcases down the hallway. Adam decides not to mention his has wheels â he kind of wants to see how long itâll take Mox to notice. âI mean, we can share. The bed, I mean. If youâre okay with that.â
Adam considers it as they walk down the hallway. âYouâre not gonna try and cuddle me, are you?â
âI â that was a joke, you fuckwit,â Mox says. âAnd you could thank me for carrying your bag all the way here.â
âFirst off, it rolls, so you didnât have to carry it,â Adam says, sliding the key card into the lock on the door. âSecond, I didnât ask you to carry my bag.â
âI had to,â Mox says. Adam barely gets the chance to push open the door before Mox is hauling all their bags and throwing them into the room with zero ceremony or care. âIt was the nice thing to do.â
Adam shuts the door behind the two of them. âYou saying that right after chucking the bags into a wall feels weird.â
Mox shrugs and throws himself onto the bed, arms behind his head. âWhat, you want me to, like, apologize or something? Did you have something breakable in there?â
Adam shakes his head as he carefully unzips his boots and sets them neatly next to the desk. âJust wondering what the fuck goes on in that weird head of yours.â
âYou donât get to call me weird,â Mox says, and heâs grinning when Adam glances over at him. âYouâre just as much of a freak as me, Cowboy.â
Adam throws the pillow from the chair at Mox and sits down. âAm not.â
âOh, so the whole hanging me using a chain is normal behavior to you?â Mox shifts, grinning at Adam. âWrapping barbed wire around yourself like a fuckinâ corset is vanilla in your world? Iâd hate to see what youâd consider freaky, then.â
Adam adjusts in the seat, desperate to lay down but not ready to cross that bridge with Mox. âIâm sure you would Mox.â
Theyâre quiet for a moment, as Adam tries to figure out if getting up will be seen as an offensive maneuver. Then Mox groans and stretches, his arms above his head on the bed. He grips the bars of the headboard, which Adam tries not to think too much about. âWell, Cowboy,â he groans, âif weâre gonna act like an old married couple and share the same bed, least I can do is wash the airport offa me. Iâm gonna go shower.â
Adam nods, because thereâs not much else he can really do. âI, uh. Appreciate it?â
âYou should,â Mox says, swaggering over to the shower. He pulls his shirt off and throws it on top of his luggage. Adam recognizes a fresh scar on Moxâs back as one he placed there with barbed wire. He ignores the voice in his head that growls mine at the sight. âIâm a fuckinâ saint.â
âI absolutely wouldnât go that far,â Adam laughs, but he follows Mox with his eyes as he makes his way to the bathroom, allowing himself to look at the way Moxâs ass fills out the jeans.
~
Adamâs halfway through his compulsive daily email clear out when a noise jolts him out of his focus.
He looks around the room for the source, only to see an outdated phone buzzing on top of Moxâs bag.
âMox,â Adam yells, âMox, your phoneâs ringing!â
Adam stands and walks over to the phone to pick it up. He wouldnât normally impose, but he glances at the screen and itâs Tonyâs number. âDude,â Adam says again. âYouâve been in there for twenty minutes.â
The phone stops ringing and Adam relaxes. And then it starts up again.
âAsshole,â Adam grumbles, almost stomping down the short hallway to the bathroom. âHey dickhead!â he yells, and heâs surprised when the door swings open under his grip.
He should have remembered heâs never been in this bathroom before.
He should have remembered this is Jon Moxley.
He should have remembered that boner he popped during Anarchy in the Arena.
The shower is in perfect view of the door, so he canât even act like he canât see whatâs in front of him. He feels like a deer caught in the headlights.
âHere to join?â Mox asks. His hand is curled around his cock, grinning over at Adam through the water droplets on the glass shower door.
âNo,â Adam says, averting his eyes, a little too late, âuh. Here.â He shoves the phone toward Mox. âItâs Tony.â
ïżœïżœTell him weâre having a sleepover and he can wait,â Mox says. Adam can sense that Mox is moving, and heâs not strong enough to imagine the kind of movement. âIâm busy.â
âItâs the second time heâs called in, like, four minutes,â Adam says. He moves to stare at the wall, but all that happens is he locks eyes with Mox through the mirror. He fights the urge to run or whimper or something else he doesnât allow himself to think about too hard. âJust fuckinâ answer it.â
Mox groans and turns off the shower. âAsshole.â
âDickhead,â Adam replies, and he hustles out of there like his life depends on it.
~
Mox comes out of the bathroom a few minutes later followed by steam. Adam is unable to ignore the fact that heâs not wearing anything but a towel around his waist.
Adam had waffled between what to do, and ended up sitting on the bed stiffly, still fully dressed, with a book in his hand. Heâs made it through two pages and didnât understand any of it.
âTony was just freaking out about if I was gonna get home or not,â Mox says. Adam intentionally doesnât look at the way the water leaves trails down his chest, his back, his arms. He doesnât look at how low the towel is on Moxâs hips, on the perfect lines of muscle making a V at the bottom of his torso. âSince he booked the flights he got the notification of the cancellation and I,â he rolls his eyes, âam the only one who didnât check in with CD, so he was freaking out.â
Adam swallows, forcing himself to stare at the wall behind Mox. âYou chill him out?â
Mox nods, stretching, and Adamâs eyes snap right back to that chest of Moxâs. âYeah, heâll be fine,â Mox says. âFreaks out about everything, Tony. Told him weâre bunking together.â
Thatâs enough for Adam to set his book down. âHowâd he react to that?â
Mox laughs, twisting. Adam finds himself wondering how tightly the towel is tied, if Mox is still hard under there. âTony freaked out, like always. Wanted to know if we planned on killing each other.â
âItâs not off the table,â Adam replies, adjusting his glasses and going back to the book.
Adam feels the bed shift as Mox sits at the foot of the bed. âYeah? Planning on strangling me in your sleep?â
Adam looks up to see Mox grinning at him. âAlready strangled you once,â Adam says, flipping the page like heâs been able to take in a single word since Mox walked out of the bathroom. âFigured Iâd try something new.â
Mox huffs. âYeah? You been thinkinâ about killing me?â
âNo,â Adam says. He sets down the book. âBut, you know. Always have ideas in my back pocket.â
Mox studies his face for a moment. âIdeas?â
Adam nods. Heâs not sure where this is going. âYeah. Ideas.â
The silence feels heavy for a second, and Adamâs pretty sure heâs seconds away from doing something stupid when Mox says, âI like the glasses.â
Adam blinks. âOh,â he says, taken off guard by the compliment. âUh. Thanks?â
âYou donât have to act all weird about it,â Mox says. âTheyâre â they look good. Real studious and shit.â
Adam laughs. âHigh praise from a man whose wardrobe is his own merch.â
âItâs my merch because I like it,â Mox says. He leans back on the bed. His head is level with Adamâs knees. âCourse Iâll wear it.â
âYou donât see me in Hangman shirts all the time,â Adam says.
âNo, but you were those, uh, those button downs. Very yeehaw. Cowboy shit, right? You dress the part.â He reaches out and pats Adamâs leg. âEven your jeans are all cowboy.â
Adam tries not to flinch or burn at the touch. âI â thank you?â
Mox rolls over. âAre you okay? Youâre all tense?â
Adam opens his mouth. Then closes it. Then opens it again and says, before he can stop it, âWhat are you doing?â
Mox stares. âHuh?â
âLike, you talk all the time, I know that, but youâre like.â He wrinkles his nose. âI donât know. Trying to be friendly.â
Moxâs face falls, and Adam practically watches him close in on himself as he scrambles to his feet. He canât explain why his heart clenches at it, only that it does. âOh.â
âNo!â Adam says. âI â no, itâs not a bad thing. Itâs just I didnât expect it. Especially after I walked in on you ââ Adam cuts himself off, because saying, âwalked in on you jacking itâ feels a little too real for whateverâs happening.
Moxâs expression shifts incredibly slowly, from confusion to understanding to amusement. âOh,â he says, drawing out the syllable. âOh, you walked in on me with my hand on my dick and you freaked out.â
Adam wills himself not to turn red. He doesnât think itâs working. âI didnât freak out.â He forces himself to look up and meet Moxâs eyes, blue and bright. âI tried to be professional about it.â
âYeah?â Mox says. âWhat if I didnât want you to be professional about it?â
Adamâs eyes flicker from Moxâs eyes to his mouth before he can stop them. âYeah, thatâs a good idea. Fuck a coworker in a hotel room. Thatâs great.â
âA coworker?â Mox says, pouting. He puts his hand to his heart. âIâm hurt. Iâm at least an arch nemesis at this point, right?â
âFine, fuck an arch nemesis,â Adam says, and he canât fight the grin. âBut thatâs a bad idea, right?â
âInteresting,â Mox says. âYouâre not saying no, you donât want to. Youâre saying no, itâs unprofessional? Weird stance to take when everybody knows what you and Cole were doing before your Revolution match.â
Adam shrugs and tries to act like he knew everyone was aware of what he and Cole get up to. âWe have a history together. Itâs what weâve always done before matches.â
âYou always blow him before a match?â Mox says. âI gotta get that on the schedule for our matches. Sounds nice.â
âAwfully presumptuous of you,â Adam says, but he canât deny that the picture of Mox with his cock in his hand, that grin on his lips, is burned into his memory. âBut I get what youâre doing now. This your seduction technique?â
âNot usually,â Mox says, and he stands, hand going to the place where the towel is tucked in on itself. Adam wants to pull at it. âBut I figured, desperate times call for desperate measures.â
Adam licks his lips before he can stop himself. âDesperate, huh? You look it.â
âExcuse me,â Mox says, and he finally throws the towel to the ground. âYouâre the one staring at me like Iâm a piece of meat.â
âYou walked out of the shower with nothing but a towel and started talking about our boss as a weird segue to flirting,â Adam says, and he hopes Mox doesnât notice the way he spreads his legs, just a little. His hands are threatening to start shaking with anticipation as Mox climbs on the bed.
He is still hard.
âIâll have you know my flirting is far more than just words.â
Adam canât move and doesnât want to as Mox leans in and kisses him, a hand on the side of his neck. Itâs gentler than he would have expected, less insistent, and Adam rests a hand on Moxâs hip and pulls him down. His skin is damp and warm, and Adam grabs at it like a lifeline as Moxâs tongue slides across the seam of his lips.
Adam makes an involuntary little squeak and Mox pulls back.
âWhat?â he asks. âYou good? Too much?â
Adam shakes his head. âNo. I mean, yes. Jesus, ask one thing at a time.â
Mox grins at him. âOh, I like you flustered.â He reaches out and brushes his thumb across Adamâs bottom lip. Itâs devastating. âYou good?â
Adam nods, Moxâs thumb catching on his upper lip. âIâm good,â he says. Heâs already breathless, like heâs a horny teenager. This would be embarrassing if he werenât so into it. âI just â not what I expected, you know?â
Mox shrugs. âNah, but when the opportunity arises.â He wiggles his eyebrows.
âIs that a dick joke?â Adam asks. âOf course youâd make a dick joke right now.â
âWhat, I should make a fuckinâ â what else rises? A sun joke?â Mox asks. âStay in the moment, Cowboy.â
âYou stay in the ââ But Adamâs cut off by a kiss, this one a bit less gentle.
He grips at Moxâs sides again, then flips them before Mox can react. Mox makes a funny little sound and adds teeth into the kiss, catching Adamâs lower lip, and Adam canât help it. He moans into it.
Moxâs hands slide under and up his shirt, scratching at his back in a way that makes him kiss harder, press his leg between Moxâs legs. He chances a hand along Moxâs thigh, not getting too close, not until Mox says so.
Mox pulls his mouth away. âFuck, Cowboy, you a tease, too? Grab my cock already.â
âJesus,â Adam laughs, âyou could be, like, a little romantic about it.â
âOh, and you walking in on me jerking off just to give me my phone with my boss on the other line is romantic?!â Mox says.
âOkay,â Adam says, reaching up to spit in his hand, âto be fair, I didnât know thatâs what you were doing.â He curls his hand around Moxâs cock, laughing at the way Moxâs face relaxes, the way his head drops against the pillows. âBelieve me,â Adam says, lips at Moxâs ear. He catches Moxâs earlobe between his teeth. âIf Iâd know thatâs what you were doing, maybe I would have joined you.â
Mox lets out a fascinating little whine at the way Adam twists his hand. âOh, I like this side of you,â he laughs.
Adam strokes gently, careful not to give too much pressure, too much friction. Heâs still fully clothed. Heâs not going to let Mox have all the fun. âYeah?â Adam says.
Mox nods. âHey, wait, you â too much clothes. Get naked.â
âNo fuckinâ romance,â Adam laughs under his breath, but he leans back and pulls his shirt off over his head. He looks down to see Mox staring at him. âThe fuckâs wrong with you?â
âJust looking,â Mox says. âYou got a chance to look at me naked, Iâm just returning the favor.â Adam tries not to squirm under Moxâs gaze. âHot. Alright, pants.â
With an eye roll, Adam unbuckles his jeans and rolls off of Mox, shoving his pants and boxers down his hips in one move. Mox stares at his dick and licks his lips. âGoddamn,â he says, voice low and pupils blown, âthat Hung Bucks thing isnât a joke, is it?â
Adam rolls his eyes and pretends he isnât blushing as he gets back onto the bed and on top of Mox. As much as he didnât see this as how his day would end, heâs enjoying it.
âHey,â Mox says, grabbing a handful of Adamâs ass, âwhat if we take this to the shower?â
Adam pulls back from where heâd been working a bruise into Moxâs neck. âShower?â
âItâs big,â Mox says, âGot some little seat things.â
Adam stares at him. âYou donât want to leave wet spots on the bed, huh.â
âThereâs only one bed.â He wrinkles his nose. âWe fuck here, thingsâll get wet. One of us would be stuck sleeping in it.â
Adam pushes himself off the bed and walks to the shower. âFor once in your life, youâre making sense.â
âYou know this was my idea, right?â Mox says, following him. He puts his hands on Adamâs hips, half steering him to the bathroom. Adam finds he likes being manhandled like this a little bit. âYou could be a little nicer about it.â
Adam rolls his eyes. âSomething tells me nice isnât what you actually like.â
âAm I that predictable?â
Adam laughs as gets the shower started, the water turning warm quicker than he expected, and he steps under the stream. He hears Mox step in after him and then big hands span his stomach from behind him. He shivers under the touch. He has to fight the urge to push Mox off, used to those hands causing harm. But right now heâs gentle, warm, and Adamâs got to loosen up a little.
âBreathe, Cowboy,â Mox says into Adamâs ear, ânot gonna hurt you.â
Adam laughs. âYou sure about that?â
âI mean, unless youâre into it.â He punctuates it with a nip to Adamâs neck, sending sparkles through Adamâs vision. âBut, nah. Just gonna do this.â He slides his hand down Adamâs body and wraps it around Adamâs dick. Adam drops his head backward, resting his head against Moxâs neck. A part of him is screaming to push away and run, but itâs a part that is way quieter than the part screaming fuck me.
âGod, thatâs good,â Adam mumbles before he can stop himself. He rolls his hips into the circle of Moxâs calloused fingers. âFuck, itâs been a while.â
âYeah?â Mox says, lips on Adamâs neck. âHow long? With who?
âMe â fuck â me and Kenny used to fuck around a lot, happened once a few weeks ago, when â do that again, yeah â I went back with the EliteâŠâ He trails off, eyes fluttering shut as he leans into the feeling, gripping at Moxâs hip hard enough to leave fingernail marks.
Mox laughs. âMaybe I bring you to the rest of Blackpool,â he murmurs. âI think youâd have a good time. Yoots might be kinda young, but he fucks like an animal.â
Adam laughs. âYeah?â He turns to catch Moxâs mouth, pushing him backward against the wall of the shower. Heâs grateful for the space, for the room in here to really move Mox around. âKnew I was right about that circle jerk shit, you horny motherfuckers.â
âHey, youâre benefitting from this horny motherfucker, so you better not complain,â Mox says. âIâm gonna blow you now, okay?â
âYeah,â Adam says, and he lets Mox press him up against the wall. âFuck yeah.â
Adam watches as Mox sinks to his knees and grins up at him. He should say something, do something, but all he can do is breathe heavily and wait.
âYou look good from this angle,â Mox says, and then his mouth is around the head of Adamâs cock and, frankly, Adam forgets how to think.
Mox is focused and determined as he works his tongue and lips around Adam in a way he hadnât realized Mox could be out of the ring. Then again, he muses, as Mox reaches up to grip at Adamâs thighs, this isnât far out of the realm. He giggles before he can stop himself.
âAre you laughing at me?!â Mox exclaims, pulling off of Adamâs cock. âLook, I donât know shit about etiquette or whatever but Iâm pretty sure laughing at the guy sucking your dick is bad manners.â
âNot at you,â Adam chokes out. âJust. Look, dude, this is a far cry from us and our friends trying to kill each other back at Double or Nothing, you know?â He runs his thumb along Moxâs cheekbone. âYou look pretty both ways, though.â
Mox rolls his eyes at him. âYouâre fuckinâ weird. I canât believe I want to fuck you.â He shakes his head and dives back to wrap his mouth around Adam.
Adam closes his eyes and rolls into it, letting the feeling take him over. This is far different than what he gets up to with the other guys in the back rooms. This feels like they have all the time in the world, like they donât have to worry or rush. Like Mox has all the time in the world, and heâs going to take it.
He pushes at Moxâs shoulder. âGet up here, I wanna kiss you.â
Mox stands and crashes into Adam, and Adam shivers a little at the taste of himself on Moxâs tongue. He reaches behind himself to get some of the cheap hotel conditioner and fumbles to cover his hand with it.
âAre you washing your hair right now?â Mox turns.
âNo, dipshit, Iâm gonna grab your dick,â Adam replies. He reaches down between the two of them. Mox is a little too far away, so Adam grabs his hips and pulls him closer so he can wrap a hand around both of their cocks at once. Mox lets out the prettiest little moan at it, a hand flying up next to Adamâs head to brace himself against the wall.
âJesus,â Mox mumbles. He circles his hips in a way that makes his cock slide against Adamâs with just enough friction to make his head spin. âKinda glad that our flight got cancelled now.â
Adam laughs, meeting Moxâs movements. âYeah? There are definitely worse ways to spend a layover.â He glances up to see Moxâs tongue between his teeth, eyes locked on the way their cocks slide against each other. He canât resist it â he leans in and catches Moxâs lips in his, swallowing the moan that follows.
He focuses on the sensations, the feelings, the sound of Moxâs breathing and of their dicks sliding against each other. That part of him that thinks this is a terrible idea keeps trying to get loud, but he shuts it up every time his lips meet Moxâs.
He feels it build slowly, like the water that trails down Moxâs forehead, in the base of his spine.
âFuck,â Adam pants, âMox, Iâm close, I gotta ââ
âYeah, Cowboy, I got you.â Mox slides his hand around Adamâs, their fingers tangling, and thatâs enough to send Adam over the edge.
He gasps, without meaning to, âMox,â as he comes all over both of their hands, rocking his hips up to ride it out.
âGod, thatâs pretty,â Mox mumbles. He gets a little reckless and frantic, and he leans in to kiss Adam as he comes, biting down on Adamâs lower lip. Adam whines at it, and he has to work to make sure he doesnât slip down the wall.
Mox rests his forehead against Adamâs and they stand there, gasping, as they come down from the moment. Adam realizes after a few moments that Mox is trailing his knuckles gently along Adamâs biceps. Itâs sweet. Itâs confusing. Adam doesnât want it to stop.
âCowboy,â Mox murmurs, pressing his lips to the side of Adamâs neck, âyou fallinâ asleep or something?â
âNo,â Adam says. He sighs before he can stop himself. âJust â enjoying the moment.â
Moxâs laugh is soft, almost sweet. Â It doesnât match the man Adamâs run into over and over again, but it feels right. âYeah, me too. But weâre gonna get all wrinkly if we stay here.â He steps away, and Adam is suddenly very cold. It fades quickly, though, as Mox adjusts the showerhead to spray warm water on both of them.
âGotta wash my hair,â Adam mumbles, fumbling for the shampoo.
âLet me,â Mox says.
Adam actually does get close to falling asleep as Mox gently massages his hair. âThis soap smells good,â he mumbles. âGotta stay in an airport hotel more often.â
Mox laughs and Adamâs pretty sure he presses a kiss to the back of Adamâs neck. âItâs probably just some sort of drug store shampoo, baby, donât get too fancy about it.â
Adam sighs, just a little, at the nickname, and wants to hold onto it.
They finish washing up and drying off in near silence, a few words here and there scattered around, until they both drowsily curl into bed.
âScoot,â Mox says, pushing his butt up against Adam, âweâre cuddling.â
âI thought you said no cuddling,â Adam mumbles, throwing an arm around Moxâs waist.
âThat was before I saw what you look like when you come,â Mox replies. He sounds like heâs already nearly asleep. âNow we got a bond. So you gotta cuddle me.â
Itâs not flawless logic, Adam thinks. But heâs cozy and warm, and heâll let it slide.
~
Mini Playlist: Magnets - Lorde, Disclosure Familiar - Liam Payne, J Balvin I Want It - Two Feet Talking Body - Tove Lo
#HangMox#in which Sara writes#wtf i like wrestling now???#Hehehe here have this#This is dumb#anxious millennial dreamboat#madly in love with leather daddy jon moxley
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oh i forgot to mention but i was plagued by Thoughts again last night of a dc/dna crossover. there was the supergirl/reader as clark/miyuki as lois au i briefly yelled about which was just a passing thought but still a whole lot of fun.
and what was last nights???? under the cut because wow iâm thinking thoughts
once again in the dc universeâŠ. reader as an amazonian specifically as fulfilling the role of wonder woman (since thatâs a mantle and has been passed to people other than the og lady diana). But⊠instead of having bruce wayne as batman and clark kent as superman i think it would fit more if they were legacies or thatâs just what i find myself considering often. anyway. for superman it would be jon kent â clarkâs son â and then for batman⊠drum roll please⊠cassandra cain.
i know this largely doesnât mean much to u guys who are following me for daiya and thatâs totally fine! thereâs a lot behind it but generally of all of bruceâs kids itâs accepted that she is the one most passionate about succeeding him and also probably the only one who could have even a remotely healthy relationship with the mantle (whereas the othersâŠ. Would Not). but along with this i see them as being new to the positions and they are IMPORTANT positions not just in their respective cities but on the justice league because those three founded the league (i think iâm pretty sure who knows what continuity says these days).
anyway basically all that means reader is the one helming the league for the moment as they settle in and where is miyuki you might ask?????? Glad you asked. miyuki kazuya = justice leagueâs pr head and perpetually annoyed at having to deal with the finicky stuff of politics when a leaguer says something people do not like. or alternatively trying to do damage control when they uh. destroy a whole city block fighting off aliens or some shit.
i keep making him the ânormalâ one. as in reader continues to be ultra strong literaly invincible â ie being imagined as a kryptonian and then here as an amazonian. specifically a demigod? yeah i think thatâs correct. either way. but you also couldnât tell me that he wouldnât be mildly turned on by the fact that his girlfriend can like. kick severe ass. and i mean SEVERE ass. we already know kryptonians are super strong but diana â og wonder woman diana prince the one we all know and love â can and will go toe to toe with clark/superman.
of course that one is more yummy to me because the amazonians are literal warriors and generally just. really powerful but also sort of. feral in a way? (affectionate). and a kryptonian reader would lack that mostly because of the in universe perspective of kryptonians. that is as being seen as practical gods and generally wary of, they need to be careful not to be perceived as too feral or too dangerous otherwise people get Nervous. but with amazonians i feel itâs sort of known. what with themyscira being like. Kill men who breach our territories. you know. itâs like yeah yeah yeah we all know about the slightly homicidal amazonians but wow get a load of these aliens! so dangerous!
(which is true but i stand by my thought that the speedsters are the most dangerous because they could effectively eliminate the justice league quickly without even a second for retaliation but thatâs. uh. not related to thisâŠ)
anyway. i donât have much in terms of anything else. maybe an assassination attempt. kidnapping. sorry miyuki but how else should we get the full might of the justice league on your behalf????? with the reader leading it and a little bit feral too come ON
#ââtwas just a fun little thought!!!!!!!!!#did keep me up for a while tbh#itâs just compelling okay!!!!!!!#i think this shows more of my dc brain rot than anything else tbh#moss writes
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Watching Paint Dry | Damian Wayne
⊠pairing â older!Damian Wayne x gender neutral!Plus Size Reader
⊠word count â 2.7k
⊠request â i was wondering if u could make a damian x reader where they have been best friends since they were kids and once they're older (let's say 17/18) damian starts to realize reader is really attractive, and notices other people see it too, and he doesn't know what's going on because he's seeing them in a different light for the first time & Is it possible to soon write a Damian x reader jealously?
⊠warnings â some angst, jealousy, pettiness, fluff.
ââââââââââââââââââââââââ
âYouâre more quiet than usual.â
Damian looked your way at the worry in your voice. There was something different about you, but he couldnât pinpoint what it was.
Had you cut your hair?
He doubted it, you hadnât told him you would. You always told him when you would do or change something, impulsive decisions included.
âI have nothing interesting to say.â
You frowned. That was a lie, the biggest lie he had ever uttered. He didnât believe it, so why would you?
âWhat?â he encouraged you to say what you were thinking.
âNothing.â You steered your gaze down, back to your keyboard. âDid I tell you my cousin is getting married?â
âI donât think you did,â he said, trying to mask his confusion at the sudden change of topic.
You hummed. âHer sister didnât take it well,â you told him, still unsure as to how to start typing your conclusion. âSheâs been trying to get her boyfriend to propose, then the youngest of the two arrives one day and bam, says her girlfriend proposed and she said yes.â
âThatâs a failure on her boyfriendâs part, I suppose.â Damian adapted what you called his wise tone. âOr perhaps she should accept he isnât interested in marriage...â
You stayed silent, letting him come to terms with what he wanted to add.
âDid they talk about marriage early in the relationship?â
You huffed a laugh. âI dunno. Mom says they did, dad says they didnât.â
âI hope they donât get married.â
Taken aback, you snapped your head up. âYou like her or something?â
He scoffed. âNo.â Indignant, Damian lifted his chin and said, âThis city is full of unhappy couples. We donât need to add another one.â
âYou could hope they work things out, then.â
He stared at you. You held his gaze, always so defiant yet so warm. He didnât know why, but he wanted to stay there, to get lost in your eyes.
âDo you want me to take you home?â he asked softly, careful not to disturb anybody around you.
You shook your head. âIâm staying with Wally to finish our project. Hopefully.â
Damianâs stomach dropped. He closed his laptop. âI still can take you home, Iâm staying with Jon.â
âOh. Cool.â
Damian withdrew his phone and you did the same with yours. Wally said he was on his way to the library which you communicated to Damian.
He stood up and carried his things to another table without a word. You didnât get the chance to ask if something was bothering him.
Wally offered you a piece of gum as he sat down. You said yes and took it to be polite, watching from afar as Damian asked for a book.
Your attention went back to Wally who didnât remember where you had left the project off.
Jon waved at you on his way to his favorite table and you observed Damian was back, no book in sight.
Sighing, you rested your cheek on your hand as Wally explained the changes he was planning. He messed with his hair as he talked, moving it from left to right.
A thick piece of hair flopped down his face, prompting you to help him out by pushing it back.
Wally thanked you with a smile.
Damian shifted in his seat. âDoes my hair look decent?â
âYeah.â Jon tilted his head as he assessed the scale of his sketch. âWhy?â
âJust wondering.â
Damian watched as Wally leaned in and whispered something in your ear. You covered your mouth to muffle your laugh.
He didnât like the pressure building in his chest. What was wrong with him?
Damian elbowed Jon. âPick everything up.â
âIâm not done.â
âI didnât ask if you were.â
Jon turned to the side, but Damian was looking forward. Following his friendâs line of vision, he chuckled. âThey look good together, donât they?â
Damian ignored him. He knew Jonâs tricks and he wouldnât fall for them. He stood up, leaving Jon, who didnât have a real reason to be in the library, behind.
Damian ignored the attention from the people nearby as he stood in the space between you and Wally. âAre you done?â
You craned your neck, smiling at him. âWeâre almost done. Ten minutes, yeah?â
Damian blinked rapidly. âWonât your father have a problem with your tardiness?â
âHe might,â you conceded, âyeah.â
You tilted your head, looking at Wally. âI can edit on my own.â Wally leaned forward to look at you as Damian refused to move. You added, âIâll send you a copy and you can change anything you see fit.â
Wally didnât answer immediately. You took time to store your supplies and laptop, knowing Damian was growing impatient.
Wally followed your lead when Jon joined you, standing at your other side.
âIâll text you,â Wally told you as he stood up.
You nodded. âThank you, Wally.â
Damian zippered your backpack for you, desperate to leave already. You shook your head playfully and stood up.
Wally smiled at you on his way out. You waved at him goodbye.
âHe likes you,â Jon teased you.
Your cheeks grew warm. âYou think so?â
Damian frowned. âDo you like him?â
âHeâs cute,â you said honestly. âAnd nice.â
Jon wiggled his eyebrows, yet made no other comment.
Damian drove you home. In silence. You were starting to get worried, but everybody had bad days and with everything Damian had on his shoulders, he deserved a day to be grumpy and sulk.
You thanked him, reminding him to text you when he was home. He tutted like he often did and waited for you to get inside your house.
Damian didnât have a problem with you having other friends, but it was different with Wally. He wouldnât say anything, though, he didnât have to when your project was over and you had no reason to spend more time with him.
Or so Damian thought. Then one Saturday afternoon he randomly checked Instagram and a photo of you and Wally appeared on his feed.
Was that a date? You hadnât mentioned anything about a date or about seeing Wally again.
He locked his phone as Richard entered the family room. His big smile made him frown. Damian knew his brother was smiling at him in greeting, being nice or whatever â but nice was a word he was starting to despise.
âRichard,â he called for his brother.
Dick sat opposite to the reading chair Damian was occupying. âMmmh?â
âAm I...â Damian briefly drummed his fingers against the book on his lap, trying to find the right words. He didnât want to sound stupid. âNot nice?â
Dick stuttered. âWhere is this coming from?â
Damian shrugged.
âYouâre nice when you want to be.â Dick warmly smiled at Damian, but the youngest didnât react positively. Damian was frowning now. âThatâs not what you wanted to hear...â
âItâs fine.â
âTalk to me.â
âI was just curious.â
He felt like he was losing to somebody he was better than. What did Wally have that he didnât? Bad hair and an annoying voice?
He hated it. Wally wasnât funny, and perhaps you were right and he was nice to an extent, but Damian found his niceness fake.
Nobody could be that nice all the time. Not even Jon! Damian didnât trust him, not with you â Wally might have been adequate at some things, but he wouldnât be adequate as your acquaintance; much less as your partner.
Air filled his lungs when your name appeared on his phone screen as you sent a text asking if he wanted to go out for a walk or maybe some coffee.
He asked where, keeping to himself the pressing question at hand: were you by yourself?
You let him pick, informing him that you were bored.
He wanted to ask if your date had bored you, but he found enough self-control in him to merely type an Iâll see you in 20.
âWhere are you going?â Richard asked as Damian put his coat on.
He told his brother he was meeting you. âTheyâre bored,â he felt the need to explain, to flaunt that you didnât get bored with him.
As if he had stated the obvious, Richard merely nodded and told him to be careful.
Damian and you walked in silence. A silence that bothered you. It was heavy, bestowing a bad feeling upon you.
You never minded his silences or giving him space. You could spend hours in silence in Damianâs company, so used to him that the rhythm of other peopleâs breathing felt wrong.
But Damianâs silences werenât common around you. Not anymore.
You heard a parent tell their child to hurry up which prompted you to turn to the side. A little girl in a borderline comically thick yellow jacket ran, as freely as the jacket allowed her.
The cold day was the first autumn had brought. Chances of rain were up to 70% so you couldnât blame parents for being concerned.
Damian followed your gaze, huffing a laugh. Your attention went back to him.
âYouâre quiet again today.â
âIâm always quiet.â
âNot with me. You canât shut up when itâs just us.â You didnât mean to sound upset, but the look in his eyes told you the tone had slipped.
âI have a lot in my mind,â he confided. âI wonder...â He couldnât say it, he wasnât sure. âI wonder many things.â
You had seen him doubt himself before, many times actually, and every time was harder to find the words to assure him he was perfect.
You never used that word, neither of you believed in the existence of perfection â not in the literal sense. Calling him such a thing would be counterproductive, condescending.
And he wasnât perfect, he had flaws you accepted and qualities that made your stomach flip.
âIs that it?â you asked meekly.
It was hard for you to believe him. His attitude didnât read as somebody who had doubts, not now. It read as somebody who wanted to put distance between you and him.
âWhy wouldnât it be?â
Why would he get defensive if it was?
You had feared the day where he picked a favorite between you and Jon would come, but now that it was here, you found yourself wishing you had been either naĂŻve or more prepared.
He could be friends with whoever he wanted, Jon was good for Damian in fact, but you knew he didnât deserve to be the favorite. Nobody but you did.
And to think your plans for the day had been wildly different...
He said your name. âIs something the matter?â
You hated how worried he sounded. âNo. You know how I get when the weather changes.â
Yeah, that had to be it. There was no way you could be upset about something you werenât even sure was happening.
Damian continued to stare at you. You cocked your head, wondering what he was thinking.
Your phone vibrated in your coat pocket, forcing you to take your eyes off him.
You read the message you got, then dropped your phone back into the warm pocket.
âWanna do something else?â you asked Damian.
âAm I boring you?â
What a ridiculous assumption. âNever,â you immediately answered. âWally just texted me, wants to go to the movies so I thought you would be up for it, but...â
âI donât know what gave you such an impression,â he blandly said. âYou can go if you want.â
You walked towards the nearest bench and sat down. Damianâs eyes were on you, fiery in contrast to his tone.
He stomped towards you, surprising you. You assumed he would leave.
âWhatâs wrong?â
âNothing.â
You twisted on your seat to face him, pressing your body to the back of the bench. âI knew this day would come.â
âWhich day?â
âThe day you donât tell me things because Iâm not Jon.â
âSpoken like somebody who hasnât replaced me with West.â
âWally?â
He hated the way you said that name, as though West was worthy of your acknowledgment.
âWally isnât my best friend, heâs just fun to be around.â
Damian wanted to throw up. âHeâs fun to be around, Damian.â
âYeah, yeah, heâs nice. I can be nice.â
âNobody said otherwise.â
âFunny how you say that and yet you spend more time with him than with me.â
âAâare you...â Shaking your head, you stood up. âYou think Iâm replacing you with Wally?â
The movement of his head was light as he nodded, almost unnoticeable, but you caught it.
âI wouldnât change you for anybody. Or anything.â
He just sat there, staring at you. Did he not believe you?
âI asked you out earlier,â you mumbled.
âNo, you didnât.â
âItâs fucking cold out here,â you reminded him. âSo I thought you would read between the lines that I was asking you to spend time with me even though I could have been comfy in my bed.â
âYou said you were bored.â
âIâm boredâ was code for âI miss youâ but you were too scared to tell him that. He didnât like clingy people, you didnât either, yet you found yourself wanting to be around him more and more as you grew up.
âPart of me expected you to ask if it was a date but you only asked for a place to go.â
âWhy would you...â He inhaled deeply. âYou know Iâm not good at these things.â
âBut you know me.â
âYou were out with West earlier, what was I supposed to think?â
You woke up at noon after staying up late binge-watching a TV show, took a shower, and texted him because you missed him.
âThe photo isnât from today. And if you had swiped, you would have seen photos where you appear. I uploaded them randomly, in the order they appeared on my phone from newest to oldest.â
It was a photo dump, the caption said so. It had to, you remembered typing just that, no emoji or anything that suggested something was going on between you and Wally.
âI wasnât tagged,â he defended himself.
âI didnât tag anybody.â
You showed him the post, every single photo. He looked better than any of your other friends, as if the camera just knew how to capture him. Or maybe you did.
âSo you donât like him?â
You shook your head. âNot in that way.â With a sad smile, you admitted, âMaybe I should.â
Damian didnât take it well. âHe isnât right for you.â
âAnd who is?â You wanted him to say he was more than anything you had ever wanted.
He only stared at you, as though the answer was obvious. And it was, deep within you, the answer had always been the same.
âSeeing you in a different light...â You avoided his eyes. âItâs scary.â
âTell me about it,â he sighed. Standing up, he inquired, âSo you never went out with him?â
âNo,â you reassured him. âWere you jealous?â
âShut up.â
âNo,â you defied him, placing a hand on his shoulder. âTalk to me.â
He shook his head, borderline pouting.
âDami,â you pressed.
âI donât know what Iâm feeling,â he admitted. âYou are... attractive, everybody can see it. I donât like that.â
âYou donât like thinking Iâm attractive?â
He exhaled softly, hesitating before resting a hand on your shoulder too. âI donât like that other people think so too.â
âAt least you know how it feels.â
âItâs different. People like you for you, they like me because of my father.â
âI like you for you,â you told him. âI always have.â
People thought you to be weird when you put up with his brattiness and brashness â perhaps you were, but it was worth it in the end.
A gust of cold wind brought shivers down your entire body. Damian slipped his arm to curl around the back of your head. Slowly, he brought you close to him.
You wrapped both arms around his middle, inhaling his scent as he attempted to protect you from the cold that was getting cruder as the minutes passed.
âIs there any film you would like to see at the cinema?â
âNo, not really,â you admitted through a laugh. âWe should probably just find a warm place to hang out.â
âIs that what you want to do for our date?â
Oh, so it was a date now. âDo you have a better idea?â
You heard the smile in his voice as he said, âNo. I can improvise if you wish.â
But you didnât. Not this time. You could watch paint dry with him and find yourself having an amazing time.
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8 for jmart?
#8- constantly cheacking their messages for words from the other
what else was I gonna do? here's some classic ol' season 3 pining babey
Hello Martin. This is Jon. I have gotten a new phone after losing my last one, please put in the new number.
It's a simple message. Straightforward, factual, and utilitarian. There is no reason that pressing send should make his heart race. There's especially no reason that the second he sends it off, he's tempted to lie on the deeply uncomfortable, likely bedbug infested motel mattress staring at his screen until he gets a response. Sure, he's sick of being overseas, and he's sick of being so isolated, and he's sick of running, but he's not...desperate for what little companionship can even be provided by words on a screen.
He does miss Martin, though. He misses Tim as well, but in a manner that's significantly more complex and knotted than the simple desire to be around him.
God, when did he start wanting to just be around Martin? He started being aware of that want when he was at Georgie's, but he has no idea when the want itself actually started. That was probably something he should examine. Technically speaking, that is something that he has time to examine, but he doesn't want to examine right now. Right now, he wants the comfort of perhaps one of the only people out there that doesn't want to kill him, or use him, or both.
Martin, whether through somehow sensing Jon's discontent from nearly 4000 miles away or, more likely, through a general dutifulness inherent to his character, only takes a few minutes to reply. Oh good! it'd been a little bit since hearing from you, we were somewhat worried. putting you in my contacts as we speak :)!
Saying that "we" were worried is almost certainly generous on Martin's part, but Jon feels no need to point that out. Instead he turns on his side and stares at the phone. He particularly focuses on the smiley face, ridiculously charmed by the fact that, despite everything, Martin hasn't lost his predilection for emojis. Two years ago, he would've rolled his eyes, maybe thought something snide about professionalism. It wouldn't have been fair, as Tim used to do the same thing and he thought nothing of it, but he wasn't fair back then. Now, he simply wonders if he can get away with sending one back.
Before he can respond, Martin sends another message. Are you actually alright? I realized I was kind of assuming that losing your phone was the only reason you were MIA, but is anything else going on?
Damn. He tends to forget how perceptive Martin can be. What, exactly, Martin had perceived in that first message, Jon couldn't be sure, but apparently there was something that tipped him off to the..eventful last week he'd had. He really, really doesn't feel like getting into all of that right now, especially not over text, so instead he replies a mostly truthful I'm fine.
Then, squinting at the screen and realizing that might come across as a dismissal, he adds, Well, other than trying not to contemplate the general sanitation practices of a motel that clearly hasn't updated it's decor since the 70s. I'm suspecting the sheets are much the same.
He doesn't know how Martin will react to the message. He can't see the face he'll make, won't know the tone of his voice. However, he likes to imagine that Martin will at least smile. Maybe he'll even give that breath of a laugh, the one that sometimes happens when Jon's being lightly acerbic and it's not directed at him. He doesn't know, but he does hope for it. Martin texts back Oof. Maybe sleep on top of the covers tonight, yeah?, and Jon thinks that he might have guessed Martin's reaction correctly.
Christ, who knew all it took was a combination of jetlag and threats to turn him into a sap. He needs to sleep. He really needs a deep, proper, uninterrupted sleep, one lasting a minimum of eight hours and ideally closer to fifteen. Checking the time, it would be a fairly reasonable time to sleep, especially with the early start he has tomorrow. He considers sending off a quick good night message, but then has the realization that as reasonable as it is for him to be asleep right now, it's just as unreasonable for Martin to be awake. Are you alright? Good lord, Martin, it's almost 4am over there. Did I wake you?
Barely 30 seconds pass before he gets back no, you're good!
A beat, then a follow up message. I've had a irregular sleep schedule since I was like 16. A lot of evening and night shifts had a lasting impact u know? Working at the institute made it a bit more consistent but it's still p rare that i sleep the same eight hours night to night.
Jon's starts to text back something sympathetic; he's had his own struggles with both in- and hyper- somnia, but his phone buzzes in his hand before he can finish it.
Sorry! That was uh probably more information than you wanted.
Well, that just won't do. Even if there wasn't a part of his brain that had recently started collecting facts about Martin like they were precious jewels instead of mostly mundane stories, he doesn't want Martin to think he can't talk to him about things outside of the standard bounds of coworkers. Not at all. We're friends, Martin, I enjoy learning about you.
His brain wants to catastrophize the second he presses send. For the first minute that Martin doesn't reply, he doesn't let it. After the second minute, he allows the minor worry to become more severe. Had it been too much? Were they friends? Jon certainly thought so, but what if Martin wasn't in the same boat? Their interactions had been entirely friendly for months now, but what if that was just Martin being polite? God, what if Martin still thought of Jon as his boss, nothing more?
Ten minutes. It takes ten minutes for Martin to finally respond, and Jon has almost called him four times to explain himself. Ten minutes, and the first response is only Oh!
Then: Cool
Well, that's not a "piss off and die", but it's not exactly comforting. Jon doesn't know how to reply, staring at the words on his screen and not entirely sure if he's fucked up or not. Fortunately, Martin's not done responding, and the next message is much, much better.
Hey uh. Feel free to say no I know it's getting late over there but. Im not getting back to sleep for the rest of the day and itd be nice to actually hear you. Would you be okay with a call?
Without a moment's hesitation, he texts back Yes!, exclamation and all, because he's become someone he barely recognizes. The phone rings just as immediately, and he feels his entire body relax at Martin's first "Hello?"
Things are difficult right now. Things have been difficult ever since the promotion that was a curse in disguise. The world is filled with monsters he barely understands. He wishes he was home despite the fact that he barely recognizes it, as filled with tension and strife as it is. There's so much to discuss, so many things they should be hammering out. But right now, the threats are not pressing. Right now, he can hear about the bad true crime documentary Martin half-watched before he got Jon's texts, and Jon can bitch about the three different "pip pip cheerio" comments he's gotten since coming over seas. Right now, and for the hour before Jon drifts off, breathing slow and deep, he can pretend that this is an ordinary phone call, in an ordinary world, between two people who simply miss each other an extraordinary amount.
#replies#elfgrunge#jonmartin#tma#jon sims#martin blackwood#fluff prompts#'this story has been told before' AND IT'LL BE TOLD AGAIN!!
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EW Mains x the Neighbors incorrect quotes because someone needs to keep the quote generator away from me lol
Yeah, this has Edd x Eduardo, Tom x Jon, Matt x Mark and Tord x Todd (My Todd, they're compatible enough) and I stuck their names in a quote generator and copy-pasted the results while tweaking some text
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Eduardo: My future partner must be brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized.
Edd: *steps on Ringo's tail by accident and proceeds to drop to his knees and sob while apologizing profusely*
Eduardo: That one. I want that one.
-
Eduardo: You are the love of my life and I would do anything within reason to make you happy.
Edd: I would be happy if you ate, stayed hydrated and got a reasonable amount of sleep.
Eduardo: I said within reason, Edd. How about I murder that guy?
Edd: So murder is in reason but proper self care isn't?
Eduardo: Well, duh. What kind of question is that?
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Jon: Since we're in a relationship now, your clothes are my clothes too. Don't ask me why I have your shirt on, this is our shirt.
Tom: Fine, but when I come strutting in with your fuzzy socks I don't want to hear shit.
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Tom: Valentineâs day is just a consumerist holiday that holds no real value other than drive people insane buying heart shaped chocolates for their significant others and pos-
Jon: I wrote you a poem.
Tom, already crying: You did?
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Jon: Hey random, what are your favorite flowers?
Tom: Peonies, why?
Jon:
Tom: Were you going to get me flowers?
Jon:
Tom:
Jon: ᶊá”âËą á” á”á”˹˹ᶊá”ᶊ˥ᶊá”Êž
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Jon: Wait, what's going on? Are we all talking about how hot Tom is? Because Tom is a straight up sexual fox riding a red-hot nuclear bombshell right toward the yowza plaza in the heart of Babe City, Assachusetts, U S A. The last A just stands for more ass.
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Mark: That was so hot, Matt.
Matt: I literally called the person who just flirted with you a degenterate dog and told them I hope they get dragged through the streets.
Mark: I'm so in love with you.
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Matt: Hey, Iâm getting in the shower. Wanna help me out~?
Mark: ...Have you never taken a shower before?
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Mark: I fellâ
Matt: From heaven?
Mark: No, I literally fellâ
Matt: In love with me the moment you saw me?
Mark: MY ARM IS BROKEN!
Matt: Okay, but do you think I'm pretty? Be honest.
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Tord: Can I have 2 straws with that milkshake?
Todd: Aww-
Tord: With 2 straws, I can drink it double as fast!
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Tord: Letâs watch Sharkboy and Lavagirl.
Todd: Okay.
Tord: And make out during the scary parts.
Todd: Th-
Todd: The scary parts.
Todd: Of Sharkboy and Lavagirl.
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Todd: Sorry Iâm late, I was doing things.
Tord: Hi, Iâm âthingsâ.
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Tord: Do you want to know your gay name?
Todd: My... my gay name?
Tord: Yeah, it's your first name-
Todd: Haha. Very funny Tord-
Tord: *gets down on one knee* And my last name.
Todd: Oh- oh my god.
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Todd: Are you sure Tord's even omni? They barely even looked at me.
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Tord, wearing one of Todd's over shirts which looks like a dress on him: Since we're in a relationship now, your clothes are my clothes too. Don't ask me why I have your shirt on, this is our shirt.
Todd: Fine, but when I come strutting in with your fuzzy socks I don't want to hear shit.
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Mark: *is wearing silk pants* How does this look?
Matt: Like its slips on and off really easily.
Mark:
Matt: No, I didn't mean it like that-
Tom: We know what you meant.
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Jon: Just a minute. I need to go take out the trash.
Tom: Oh. We're going out?
Jon: Wh...
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Edd: From now on we will be using code names.
Edd: You can address me as Eagle One.
Edd: Matt is âbeen there done thatâ.
Edd: Mark is âcurrently doing thatâ.
Edd: Jon is âit happened once in a dreamâ.
Edd: Tom is âif I had to pick a dudeâ.
Edd: And Eduardo is..
Edd: Eagle Two
Eduardo: Oh thank god.
-
Eduardo: Edd kissed me!
Jon: Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!
Eduardo: It was unbelievable!
Person B: Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!
Mark: Okay, we wanna hear everything. Todd, get the wine and unplug the phone. Edu, does this end well or do we need tissues?
Eduardo: Oh, it ended very well.
Jon: Do not start without me! Do not start without me!
Mark: Okay, alright, letâs hear about the kiss. Was it a soft brush against your lips or was it like a, you know, âI gotta have you nowâ kind of thing?
Eduardo: Well, at first it was really intense, you know? And then, oh God, and then we just sort of sunk into it.
Mark: Ohh... So, okay, was he holding you? Or was his hands on your back?
Eduardo: First they started out on my waist and then they slid up and then they were in my hair.
Todd, Mark and Jon: Ohhh.
*meanwhile*
Edd eating pizza in his, Tom, Matt and Tord's house: And, uh, and then I kissed him.
Tom: Tongue?
Edd: Yeah.
Matt and Tord: Cool.
-
Tord: My boyfriend is too tall for me to kiss them on the lips. What should I do?
Eduardo: Punch him in the stomach. Then, when he doubles over in pain, kiss him.
Matt: Tackle xem!
Tom: Dump them.
Jon: Kick them in the shin!
Edd: Jump!
Mark: Ghost him
Todd: No to all of those! Just ask me to lean down!!
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Mark and Matt: Ah, yes. Here we have a beautiful couple...
Tom: I really care about your feelings!
Jon: I really care about YOUR feelings!
Todd and Tord: ...and then there's the disaster couple...
Eduardo: YOU NEED TO PAY MORE ATTENTION TO ME INSTEAD OF BEING AT THE HOSPITAL!
Edd: I WOULDN'T HAVE TO SPEND SO MUCH TIME AT THE HOSPITAL IF YOU STOPPED INSISTING ON FIGHTING EVERYONE WHO COMES WITHIN A FIVE FOOT RADIUS OF YOU!
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Edd: What are you getting Mark for the holidays?
Matt: I don't know. It's kind of hard buying a gift for your husband when he already got everything he could've ever wanted when he married you. So I'm not sure yet.
Eduardo: I'm getting Mark a divorce lawyer.
-
Eduardo: Edd! I can't do this stupid math!
Edd: Whatâs the math problem?
Eduardo: Well, we have to add the bed, subtract the clothes divide the legs, and hope we donât multiply~
Todd, covering Jon's ears, annoyed, while Edd smacks Eduardo upside the head: Not going to lie that was hella smooth.
-
Jon: How is the most beautiful person in the world?
Tom: *blushing* Iâ
Mark, butting into the conversation: Matt is perfect, thanks for asking.
-
Eduardo: I sleep with a gun under my pillow.
Matt: I sleep with a knife.
Tord: Both of you are pathetic.
Eduardo: Oh yeah? What do you sleep with?
Tord: Todd. :)
#I might do more of these lol#eddsworld#ew neighbors#eddsworld neighbors#ew eduardo#eddsworld eduardo#ew edd#eddsworld edd#edduardo#cola losers#Eduardo x Edd#Edd x Eduardo#ew jon#eddsworld jon#ew tom#eddsworld tom#tomjon#jontom#Jon x Tom#Tom x Jon#ew mark#eddsworld mark#ew matt#eddsworld matt#mattmark#markmatt#Mark x Matt#Matt x Mark#ew todd#eddsworld todd
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For the Touches Ask Game, if you can, a little Jonmartin with Touching/9?
Thank you so much, I love your writing!!! đđ
touches prompt list
9 - holding hands across the table
i did a season two lunch dinner date fic! cw for mentions of paranoia/stalking and murder (in typical s2 fashion)
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Theyâve been having lunch together for two months when Martin asks, with enough stuttering that it takes Jon a moment to process his words, if Jon would like to get dinner with him.
Jon hesitates only briefly before agreeing. Between finding out about Martinâs CV and the newly delivered CCTV footage, heâs almost entirely convinced that Martin did not, in fact, murder Gertrude Robinson and that his various attempts to make sure Jon eats and sleeps and drinks tea are simply a result of Martin being⊠well. Being nice, he supposes. If overbearingly so.
Why Martin feels the need to coddle Jon, he doesnât quite know. But if heâs being honest with himself, heâs⊠not complaining. His frequent skipping of meals often isnât an intentional thing, born instead of his tendency to get so wrapped up in his work that hours fly by without him noticing, and while sometimes heâs irritated when his flow is interrupted by Martinâs cheery greeting, more often than not itâs⊠a relief. To step out of the Archives, away from the feeling of eyes on the back of his neck, and pretend like he isnât working alongside a murderer.
Maybe a murderer. He⊠he doesnât know. According to the CCTV footage, Tim and Sasha and Martin and Elias all have alibis. But he still canât shake the feeling that he gets, sitting in his office or walking down the corridors or reading through statements, that something isnât right.
That thereâs something in the Archives thatâs not supposed to be there.
So, itâs⊠nice to get outside. And as much as Tim may joke about itâor⊠used to joke about it, at leastâJon does, in fact, try to eat three square meals a day if he can remember to do so. Try being the operative word. Heâs been⊠caught up in work lately, and often he glances at the clock to see that itâs well past ten and heâs accidentally skipped dinner entirely. He hadnât thought Martin had noticed, given that the man doesnât live in the Archives anymore and typically leaves promptly at five along with Tim and Sasha, but evidently, he was wrong.
As Jon sits across the table from Martin at the small cafĂ© theyâve chosen for lunch, he has the fleeting thought that Martinâs been sneaking back and watching him work and thatâs how he knows that Jon has been missing dinner. He lets himself feel it, takes a deep breath, and pushes it away with considerable effort. No, thatâs not⊠he trusts Martin. He does. Or he⊠he wants to. Heâs trying.
âJon?â
âHm?â Jon blinks up at Martin, whoâs clearly waiting for a response. âSorry, I-I didnât catch that.â
Martinâs cheeks are dusted a rosy red. He fiddles nervously with the black ring on his fingerâa bit thicker in width than Jonâs, the metal smooth and bright where it reflects the sunlight. âIsâis this Friday okay? Atâat seven? I-I can, um, meet you at the Institute. U-Unless youâd like to meet there! Thatâs, er. Thatâs fine with me too.â
âThe Institute is fine,â Jon says, picking at his sandwich with a frown. The bread is damp and squishes under his fingers. âPerhaps we can go somewhere a bit less⊠soggy.â
âR-Right, yeah. I, um. I was actually thinking⊠you know that new bistro o-over in Clapham? M-Maybe not, itâs, er. Itâs new. But I-I heard it has good South Asian food, which, um. I know you like.â
Martinâs face is fully crimson by this point. Maybe we should sit inside next time, Jon thinks. Or at least in the shade. The sun is rather intense. Martin picks up his mug of tea and takes a long sip, staring resolutely down at the table once heâs done. Jon waits, but it appears that Martin is done rambling, so he says, âYes, that sounds fine.â Then, because itâs polite (and not untrue): âI am⊠looking forward to it.â
âO-Oh? Oh!â Martin looks at him, a wide smile spreading across his face. âY-Yeah, um. M-Me too.â
We should definitely sit inside next time, Jon thinks as the back of his neck grows warm, the tips of his ears surely darkening. Good lord.
He doesnât think the heat is responsible for the way Martinâs smile makes something in his stomach flutter. He decides to blame that on the atrocious sandwich because⊠well. Itâs as convenient an excuse as any.
Because Martin is just looking out for Jonâs wellbeing. This is no different than him bringing mugs of tea when Jon is recording statements or accompanying him to A&E to get stitches after Michael or inviting him to lunch in the first place. This is not, he tells his ridiculous, over-zealous, butterfly-filled stomach, a date.
Because itâs not. Martin is simply a coworkerâan employeeâand a friend. Who he trusts. Maybe. Probably. And thinks about sometimes when heâs unoccupied. His hands, mostly, which look very soft and very capable. His smiles as well, each one like a gift meant just for Jon. The way he carries the heavier boxes that Jon canât quite manage and can reach the top shelves to retrieve statements without even having to clamber up onto the bottom ones.
All completely normal thoughts to be having about a friend
So, when Jon wears the soft maroon button-down on Friday that heâs been told brings out his eyes and takes care to arrange his hair into something other than the haphazard braid heâs been managing lately and digs a bottle of peach nail varnish out of the bottom of his drawer the night before to coat his fingernails with, itâs just because he feels like it. Not because this is a date. Because itâs not a date. Itâs just dinner. With Martin.
Who shows up to the Institute at quarter to seven wearing a nicer jumper than usualâcable-knit and mustard yellow, looking incredibly soft to the touchâand with small black studs decorating the lobes of his ears. He smiles widely when he sees Jon, also standing outside earlier than agreed upon, and Jon almost turns around to see if someoneâs behind him. But there isnât. That smile, unfettered and full of joyâitâs⊠itâs for him.
Surely, Martin is just⊠happy to see him leaving the office while itâs still light out for once. Heâs certainly chided Jon enough times for his habit of falling asleep at his desk. (Which heâs been trying to do less lately, if only because it would be easy for someone to sneak up on him while heâs unconscious and slip a knife into his back or poison his tea or shoot him three times in the chest orâ)
âR-Ready to head out?â Martin says, abruptly halting Jonâs train of thought. He tries not to look like heâd just been theorizing about his own inevitable demise as he mumbles his assent and follows Martin away from the Institute and into the still-bustling streets of London.
And if he presses close to Martinâs side while they walk, well. Itâs just because every brush of unfamiliar contact against him feels overwhelming, enough so to make him flinch away. And if he takes Martinâs hand for a small period of time, well. Itâs just because the crowd has thickened and he doesnât want them to get separated. And if he feels particularly warm in his jacket when Martin laughs awkwardly at his own joke and rubs at the back of his neck, well. Thatâs just from exertion. It is quite a far walk to the restaurant.
The bistro is lovely. Jon typically doesnât go for places like thisâtucked between two nondescript buildings with a glass front that reveals soft, intimate lighting within and flowers planted in boxes outsideâbut once theyâre inside and seated at their table, itâs⊠oddly charming. Jon shrugs out of his jacket, and even though itâs the same shirt heâs been wearing all day, Martin compliments him on it with a flush. The change from frigid winter air to the warmth of the bistro brings heat to Jonâs face as well, and he rolls up the cuffs of his sleeves to just below his elbows. Martin makes a choking sound, but when Jon looks up with a frown, he has his glass of water pressed to his lips.
âSorry,â Martin says once heâs placed the glass back on the table. âJust, um. Uh. Tickle in my throat. A-Allergies, you know.â
Martinâs face pinches in what looks like a repressed wince, and Jon tries to be reassuring. After all, Martin is taking time out of his schedule to be here with Jon, and Jon doesnât want to seem ungrateful. His grandmother taught him proper manners, and besides, he is⊠rather glad to be here.
His commiseration about his own experiences with seasonal allergies turns into a mini-lecture on the species of pollen-producing plants in their area. He only realizes heâs doing it when the waiter comes by with a cheery smile and asks if theyâre ready to order.
Jonâs mouth snaps shut mid-sentence. He has not even opened his menu.
âI. Um.â Jon is about to ask for more timeâwhich he strongly dislikes doing, as heâs had the waiting staff forget more than once about his table and heâs had to go through the mortifying ordeal of hailing them down like a-a bloody taxiâwhen Martin tilts his own menu toward Jon and points to an item in the middle of the page.
âThey have chicken karahi and naan. I, er. I heard itâs good if youâre⊠interested.â
Jon blinks at the menu in surprise. âThat⊠sounds great, actually. Er, medium spice, please.â
Martin orders his own squash curry, and the waiter takes their menus when he departs, leaving the spot in front of Jon oddly empty. Jon taps his fingers on the newly barren tabletop a few times, trying and failing to remember where heâd left off in his lecture. Ultimately, he gives up, deciding that Martin isnât going to be interested in hearing about all of that and heâs already said enough on the subject.
Then, Martin says, âSo, you were sayingâabout the pollen?â and something in Jonâs chest squeezes, an emotion he doesnât know the name of. Relief, maybe, as Martinâs words manage to spark his memory and he picks up his train of thought again easily enough. Yes, thatâs⊠thatâs probably it.
The first few times theyâd gone to lunch, Jon had made an effort to stop himself from rambling, as he was prone to do any time someone gave him the opportunity. Heâd engrossed himself in his sandwiches and rice bowls and mediocre Chinese takeaway in order to keep from launching into an explanation of the origins of said folding takeaway containers or the documentary heâd watched recently about the Zhou dynasty. And the first few lunches had been⊠awkward. It wasnât because Jon thought Martin was a murdererâhe doesnât think heâd have agreed to go for lunch if he truly believed that Martin might harm him. It was just⊠how things like this went when Jon was involved. He knows he struggles with casual conversation, and heâs never understood the purpose or execution of âsmall talk.â He would be perfectly content to eat and exist in silence, except all too often he feels expected to provide some sort of conversation or entertainment, upon which point the silence becomes horribly oppressive and stress-inducing.
But he also knows that talking too much can be just as bad as not talking enough. His grandmother had always told him so. So he suffered through the awkward silences for the first few days, and Martin had let him, clearly assuming that if Jon wasnât speaking, he shouldnât either.
Then, around their fourth or fifth lunch together, Martin had begun to ask him questions. They were casual, genuine, and so clearly targeted at Jonâs interests that Jon was convinced that Martin was somehow following him home or searching through his computer history orâor something. On their eighth lunch together, Martin asked Jon about the newest exhibit at the museumâit had been about sharks, if Jon remembers correctlyâand Jon couldnât help asking how Martin knew that heâd gone to see it. He hadnât explicitly asked if Martin had been following him, but heâs sure the sentiment was clear in his eyes.
The tips of Martinâs cheeks had grown red, and heâd said that Jon had mentioned a few days prior that he was planning on going. All traces of fear and paranoia had left Jonâs mind then, replaced by surprise and, beneath it, something warm and bubbly. Martin had remembered.
Their conversations had gotten a lot easier after that.
Despite how Martin seems to enjoy Jonâs long-winded tangents, he⊠does still make an effort not to hold a completely one-sided conversation. So, a few minutes into the continuation of his pollen discussion, he finds a natural stopping point and says, âSo, er. You⊠like being outside?â
Not the most⊠articulated question Jon has ever asked. But Martin doesnât seem to mind. His fingers curl around the bottom of his water glass, his palms smudging the condensation. âYeah, w-when I can find the time, I suppose. I-I try to go for walks around my neighborhood if I can, if itâs not too dark by the time I get home, and thereâs this park inââ
Martin cuts off with a small cough. He lifts his glass and takes a long sip, while Jon sits and drums his fingers against the table and tries not to bounce his leg too noticeably. âSorry,â Martin says as soon as the glass leaves his lips, giving Jon an apologetic smile that somehow seems⊠artificial. Like itâs been plastered atop another, heavier expression. âS-Something in my throat again.â He hesitates, then continues, âThereâs a park in Devon that I-I like, whenever Iâm in that area.â
Devonâs quite a trip away, Jon thinks but doesnât say. Why do you go to Devon? he doesnât say. Is that where you go on Saturdays? he doesnât say, becauseâwell. Itâs rather embarrassing, among other things, to admit to the fact that youâve gone through your employeeâs desk calendar because you thought he might have shot an old woman three times in the chest and had plans to do the same to you. Particularly when you are having dinner with said employee.
Ugh. Probably best not to think about the fact that he is technically Martinâs boss when heâs sitting three feet away from him at a candlelit table on what, to an outside observer, might look startlingly similar to a date.
But itâs not a date. Because Martin didnât say it was a date, and heâs just trying to care for Jon, in that⊠over-the-top way that he does. Jon tries to muster up some irritation at the reminder that heâs likely being coddled, just for habitâs sake, but comes up empty.
He hasnât been truly irritated with Martin in quite some time. He⊠doesnât really know when that changed. When Martin became a source of comfort, rather than of annoyance.
âJon?â Martin says. Right. Martin is still sitting across from him.
âRight,â Jon says, trying to sound like he hasnât been drifting off in a hundred different directions. âThat sounds⊠nice.â
Martinâs lips curl up into a small smile. âYeah. I-It is. It, um. It makes the trip worth it, to be able to sit on one of the benches and just⊠write poetry.â
Jon has read some of Martinâs poetry, though Martin doesnât know that. Jon doesnât like poetry. Jon liked Martinâs poetry. These are, apparently, two truths that can and do coexist.
Jon does not mean to say, âCould I hear one?â But it appears that he is weary enough and relaxed enough and distracted enough that his verbal filter has small, critical holes in it. Damn.
Martin sputters. âU-Um, well, I-I suppose⊠I could, I-I do have a few, er. M-Memorized, if youâyou reallyâŠâ He trails off uncertainly. âYouâre. Um. Youâre sure?â
Well. Nothing to do but lean into it, Jon supposes. âI wouldnât have asked if I werenât sure, Martin,â he says, a bit snippier than he intends. The tips of his ears are hot, and he is deeply thankful that the dimness of the bistro hides the way theyâre surely darkening.
âR-Right.â Martin clears his throat, looks down at the table. âI-I suppose Iâll just⊠do a short one?â
He proceeds to recite, in quiet, surprisingly stutterless lines, one of the poems that Jon already knows from the notebooks heâd left behind in the Archives. Itâs⊠his favorite, if he were forced to pick one. But there is something differentâsomething moreâabout hearing Martin speak the words aloud rather than simply reading them on a page. Martin pauses in places Jon hadnât thought to pause, lingers on words he hadnât thought to linger on, and adds a softness to the ends of lines and phrases that Jon finds himself enraptured by.
Logically, he knows that itâs not good poetry. Heâd begrudgingly taken a poetry class during uni, had hated every minute of it, and had donated all of his books to charity shops the moment he wasnât in need of them anymore. Heâs read Dickens and Poe and Whitmanâall the works that are considered great representations of their art form.
Martinâs poetry is nothing like theirs. His lines donât follow the same rhythms; his words are clumsier, his images less profound. But still, even though Jon knows that it is technically not good poetry, he⊠he likes it.
He tries not to analyze that feeling too closely.
âSo, um. Yeah,â Martin says after he finishes, rubbing his thumb over his ring. âI-Itâs not really⊠great work, heh, you know, s-sorry.â
Jon is not the comforting sort. Heâs been told that heâs too sharp at the edges, skin too full of spines and thorns. So he surprises himself, and probably his grandmother from beyond the grave, when he reaches across the table and takes Martinâs hand in his. Itâs soft and big, the pads of Martinâs fingers lightly calloused from a past history of manual labor, and Jon thinks just for a moment how small his own hands look in Martinâs. He surprises himself even more when he says, honestly, âI enjoyed it, Martin.â
Martin blinks at him, eyes wide and owlish. His hand is rigid in Jonâs, like heâs afraid that if he moves, heâll frighten Jon away like a skittish cat. âO-Oh.â Itâs hard to tell in the dim light, but Jon thinks Martin might be blushing. âWell. T-Thanks.â
Jon nods once stiffly. He does not retract his hand. At first, itâs because he doesnât think to do so, too wrapped up in the feeling of his skin against Martinâs. Then, itâs because itâs been long enough that doing so would be more awkward than keeping his hand there. He asks Martin about the inspiration behind the poem, for want of another conversation topic, and Martin talks about the trip he took to the countryside once and how it stuck with him, and Jonâs hand remains atop Martinâs. Martin takes a drink from his glass, and Jon takes a drink from his, but both of them use their free hands, as if in unspoken agreement that this is just how things are now. Jonâs hand is resting atop Martinâs and it will be until he has just cause to move it and that is just the way of the universe. Nothing to be done about it.
Their food comes, and looking extremely regretful about the fact, Martin extracts his hand from underneath Jonâs and reaches for his fork. They donât mention the loss, and itâs quiet for a period of time while Jon eats his chicken karahi and Martin eats his squash curry and Jon tries not to openly moan at how good the food is.
Something must show on his face, because Martin smiles warmly at him and says, âWell? Was that Yelp reviewer correct when they said that the chicken karahi is âliterally the best food theyâve ever eaten in their entire lifeâ?â
Jon swallows a bite of admittedly very good chicken. âWell. I donât know that I would quite go to that extreme, but it is rather enjoyable.â Reminds me of the way my grandmother used to make it, he doesnât say. That feels like a date conversation, and this isnât a date.
(It feels very much like a date.)
(It isnât a date.)
âGood,â Martin says. Then, he smiles, wide and unabashed and like a ray of sunlight, and Jon quickly buries himself in his food again so he doesnât say something foolish like I really like it when you smile at me like that or Is this a date? or I would very much like this to be a date.
They finish eating, and the waiter takes away their plates with the promise of bringing the check soon. Jonâs hands rest on the table, index finger fiddling with the edge of the cloth placemat in front of him. Heâs in the middle of trying to convince himself that yes, it would be ridiculous to take Martinâs hand again, you should definitely not do that on this very much not-a-date, when Martin reaches out and takes Jonâs hand in his. Properly takes it, pressing their palms together and slotting his fingers easily between Jonâs and knocking their rings together as he squeezes gently.
âUm,â Jon says eloquently. He should very much not ask if this is a date. âWhat are you doing?â
Nope, thatâs worse. Thatâs definitely worse.
âOh!â Martin lets go of Jonâs hand immediately, and Jon does not try to chase Martinâs hand as it retracts, thank you very much. Heâs more dignified than that. âS-Sorry, I thought⊠I, um. Never mind. I-I shouldnât have⊠sorry. Again.â
âItâs fine,â Jon finds himself saying. Then, in an effort to do damage control: âI⊠didnât mind.â
âYou⊠didnât?â Martin seems confused, which is understandable. If Georgie were here, sheâd tell him that heâs giving, quote, âmixed signals.â Heâd never quite understood what counts as âmixed signals,â and he doesnât know that he ever will.
âI did not,â Jon confirms. âI just⊠I suppose IâŠâ
He should not ask if this is a date. He really, really shouldnât.
âIs this a-a date?â
It appears heâs found another one of the holes in his verbal filter. Lovely.
Martinâs eyes grow impossibly wider. He makes a series of sputtering sounds as Jon waits and tries not to bounce a hole through the floor with the heel of his foot. âYouâyou didnâtâŠâ Martin seems to have a miniature internal debate with himself, his face cycling through a dozen different expressions over the next few seconds. Finally, he sighs and says, eyes fixated on the table between them, âI had⊠intended it to be. Though I suppose ifâif you didnât know it was a date, that. Um. Kind of defeats the purpose.â
âDoes it?â Jonâs mouth says without his permission.
âI-I mean⊠you canât really have a one-sided date,â Martin says with an awkward laugh. The waiter is nowhere to be seen, which Jon is grateful for and disheartened by in equal measure. This situation would certainly be easier with a convenient escape.
âI⊠suppose.â Jon worries at the edge of the placemat, pulling on a loose thread. âThough, itâs⊠if this were a dateâor, I suppose, if I-Iâd known it was meant to be a dateâI⊠wouldnât have acted much differently.â He pulls harder at the thread, feeling a bit bad for the way the fabric bunches around it. âI⊠would not have been⊠that is to say, I would have liked it if⊠rather, to say that I didnât think about it would be, er⊠well, incorrect.â
Martin stares at him, clearly unable to make sense of Jonâs admittedly disjointed, half-finished sentences. Jon sighs and says, under his breath, âI am not opposed to considering tonight a date.â
Martinâs cheeks are red enough now that Jon can see the flush, even in the dim light. âU-Um. What?â
âI am not opposed,â Jon repeats, louder, âto considering tonight a date.â Lord, thatâs mortifying to say out loud. How do people do this? To emphasize his point, he sticks his hand out, palm-up on the table. Itâs stiff and awkward and he probably looks like a cat with its hackles raised. He focuses on the cable knit of Martinâs jumper so he doesnât have to see whatever amused or mocking or disappointed expression is on Martinâs face as he realizes just how bad Jon is at all of this.
Martin is quiet for a moment. Then, just as Jon is about to pull his hand away and flee for the exit, he feels a touch against his palm. Martinâs hand settles tentatively atop hisânot weaving their fingers together, not even properly holding it, just⊠pressing together, palm to palm. Jon can feel Martinâs heartbeat faintly against the tips of his fingers where they press against the inside of Martinâs wrist. âOkay,â Martin says softly, like Jon has just given him a precious gift. âThen itâs a date.â
Itâs a date. Jonâs skin has absolutely no reason to prickle at those words, nor does his stomach have any reason to squeeze and sprout butterflies. He nods, a bit brusquely, and opens his mouth to say somethingâgod knows whatâwhen the waiter appears next to their table, somehow having both comically bad and impossibly good timing.
Martin pays, despite Jonâs insistence that he can cover his own share, and then theyâre back out in the cool night air, making their way toward the tube station. The first few minutes are quiet. Thereâs a tension between them that feels more anticipatory than awkward. Their hands brush once, twice. Then, on the third time, Martin hooks his fingers around Jonâs and clasps his hand in his, and Jon lets out a breath he hadnât known heâd been holding.
They hold hands all the way to the tube station, up until they have to part ways to take separate lines. Jon runs through all the things that he thinks heâs supposed to say in a situation like thisâI had fun tonight or We should do this again sometime or⊠somethingâbut ends up saying instead, âHow long have youâŠ?â
He trails off, squeezing Martinâs hand a few times thoughtlessly, like a warm, bony stress ball. Martin seems to infer the rest of his question, however, because he squeezes Jonâs hand in return and says, âItâs⊠new for me too, if thatâs what youâre asking.â
Jon nods and squeezes Martinâs hand again. He thinks thatâs going to become quite a habit if they keep this up. âRight.â
Martin hesitates, before letting his grip on Jonâs hand loosen slightly. âWe⊠we donât have to do this again if you donât want to. I-I know things are complicated right now, and IâŠâ He worries his bottom lip between his teeth. âI want to do this again, for⊠for what itâs worth. But I get it. If you donât, that is. Forâfor any reason.â
âI do,â Jon says, surprising himself with his conviction. âI-I donât⊠youâre right. Things are⊠complicated.â Thatâs certainly a word for it. âBut I⊠I trust you, Martin. O-Or⊠I want to trust you.â He takes a deep breath. âI am making the decision to trust you.â Itâs hard and itâs terrifying and thereâs an animal instinct deep within Jon thatâs telling him not to expose his vulnerable side, but⊠somehow, despite all of that, Martin makes him feel⊠well. Not safe, but as close to safe as he can get right now. Which is an accomplishment in its own right.
Martin exhales slowly and gives Jon a small, hesitant smile. âThank you. I-I know thatâs difficult, and IâŠâ Martin squeezes Jonâs hand, just once. âI-Iâm happy.â
And Jon finds that he means it when he says softly, âIâm happy too.â
Martin gets on his train, and Jon gets on his. And despite the ever-present itching beneath his skin and the persistent belief that something isnât right and the knowledge that he is likely a hunted man, from the moment he lets go of Martinâs hand to the moment he closes his eyes and curls onto his side in bed, that happiness remains.
#tma#the magnus archives#jonathan sims#martin blackwood#jonmartin#ask#anon#this got so incredibly long... i hope you like it!#my writing#my fic
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yet another ask dump yeehaw!
do you ever think that jay's mother was one of those bitch who believes in horoscope and tarots and things like that and so he believes in these things too, or it is just me projecting?
sheila haywood took one look at jason's birthchart said 'nah this won't do' and left.
Wait, but what happens when the justice league does find out that Bruce and John fucked? Lmao it sounds like it would be hilarious, really, I donât want a justice league that doesnât make fun of Bruce for like his entire life.
barry runs out of the meeting immediately and comes back with an entire sti testing kit. diana fully seriously wants bruce to get tested while bruce is sitting there like 'come on guys, you're being ridiculous, i already checked twice'
john is standing in the corner clearly offended while bruce is just like 'don't even say anything, constantine, you fucked a shark'
tim was like "i'm drake now" and everyone was like ahh so your fursona is a dragon and tim was like pffffft no. ducks.
on the one hand, good for him, on the other hand, bro, how do you still have a secret identity when your superhero name is just your last name,,,,
Your fic on ao3 was GOLD PLEASE CONTINUE I loved Dinah's cameo btw ( @purple-vixen
thanks so much! i already continued but this ask is like 10 years old because i'm a notorious procrastinator (also yes! i love dinah so much aahhhhhhhhhhhh)
I've FINALLY been watching the Batman animated series and I gotta say, after watching "the gray ghost" I am CONVINCED that Batman is a closeted super hero geek who was 100% freaking out the first time he met Superman and is just REALLY good at hiding it.
bruce internally: holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit bruce externally: get out of my city, alien
AHHH ur multimedia fic is the only thing that brings me happiness anymore continue it forever pls
uhh thanks, but can't continue it forever because my attention span is that of a toddler on crack on a good day and i can't function without at least 10 things going on at the same time and music in the background
Oi, so I'm getting into dc and watching batman the animated series, and they use fruitcake a lot. Which I thought was very funny and wanted to share w you - Denilla
wait like fruitcake (food) or fruitcake (derogatory) ?
young justice đ€ teen titans slut shaming batman
tim drake and dick grayson to their respective teams 'you guys stop it, that's my dad'
Happyhoganon: If an eighty year old Batman had fought crime in Gotham City for decades and the only threats to him and the city lately are a wheel chair bounded Penguin, your usual purse snatchers and a few con artists popping up every now and then, how well could the Dark Knight do in maintaining the peace in Gotham despite him being just somewhat fit to do that as an elderly man (which says A LOT given how old he is)
uhh he'll probably do what my grandpa does and that is ruthlessly prank them until they die of shame.
in the death in the family interactive movie there's an ending where Jason is tasked with raising Damian and he decides he's gonna raise Damian to take down the waynes and al ghuls which uh maybe isn't great BUT the idea of Jason raising Damian... PRICELESS. CHAOTIC. I just need more people to know about this :)
yes i saw that wow holy shit but jason would accidentally drop damian on his head one (1) hour in and jason just yeets him into the lazarus pit.
Headcanon: The Penguin has a really hard time fighting any of the Robins because of his avian obsession means there's always a small part of his mind that's like "Birb. Child. Protect" ( @subspacecadet )
as soon as dick becomes nightwing the penguin is like 'you know what, fuck this dude' and shoots at him.
Y'all talking about King Shark dating Constantine, let's not forget about John literally hooking up with Satan
listen there's a clear difference between monsterfucker and satanfucker in that king shark is literally a shark and satan still looks like a normal dude
Does everyone in Gotham think Batman is a teen dad?
everyone in gotham thinks batman has been around since gotham was founded, but they do think that bruce wayne is actually a teen father and dick grayson's biological dad.
why. why would you do that fancast when you know it will only hurt people
what? i loved my fancast it was really well done. i did it with good representation in mind and i really managed that with alfred pennyworth being âšitalianâš
Seeing james charles a jason gave me psychic damage how dare you i need to wash my eyes
well that's a you problem isn't it?
do you think dick grayson thirst tweets about nightwing just to annoy his family/cause problems on purpose in general?
he thinks nightwing is hot, next question.
holy jiminy cricket batman, its as cold as the good lords ass crack in here!!
i- what? this is why i don't fuck with english expressions it's way too goddamn weird
Brooooooo, your teen dad!Bruce au is soooo good. I've got brainrot.
Honestly if you ever write anymore, I'd read that shit twice. Sign me the fuck up. Good stuff, Good Stuff.
uh yeah i'm thinking about writing a fic, but i have exams coming up and i don't wanna fail because that would suck. but after i'll certainly be writing more tho
your teen dad AU is so great! bruce acting like a big brother for all of like a week before he's telling everyone about his son. what if in the AU dick meets the JL because they need to rescue him? maybe he's in trouble/kidnapped at a gala and bruce starts calling for JL. clark finds him and has to fly with dick to bring him home - that's how dick and clark meet and superman becomes dick's fave hero. he goes around the manor thinking he can fly with a red blanket draped around him like a cape.
actually- if you want a young dad! bruce fic with like that kinda stuff(just with damian) go check uhh- in for a penny by cdelphiki. it's really good and bruce is like 24/25-ish. (and dick's there!!!)
This account has solely convinced me that Tim is a trash goblin ( @hamilcat-and-magic-turtle )
because he is. that boy has slept in dumpsters on multiple occasions even if he is the son of a billionaire.
Okay but when you said victory dance I did think of the whole justice league defeating the big bad and then they all start flossing
well that's exactly what hal jordan does and that's why batman uses a gun now. no but the victory dance in my opinion is like the 'we're all in this together' dance from high school musical.
The horrors in Invincible s1 was nothing compared to the comics, I cant wait for s2
oh well okay, i mean i personally react to horror and violence by laughing awkwardly so i can't wait to be called a monster for accidentally laughing at a mass murder.
I'm currently watching Batman: The Brave and The Bold and- Bruce is just talking about Oliver like he's an old love (@nightwings-kid)
okay im going to watch that lmao that's totally and completely in character for him tho.
The invincible comic is like super gratuitous with its violence so much so I'm shocked the show was able to adapt it in a faithful way! Anyway had the show been live action it absolutely wouldn't have the same impact as it does as an animated show and I'm so glad so many people agree with me on that
also because a live action casting would've been like uhh amanda stenberg for amber, the dude- the guy from the supernatural but with a mustache for omni-man, and scarlet johanssen for debbie grayson
Debbie grayson is a milf, yes. You're welcome for the invincible propoganda, now you can questions your life. Bruce def seems like the perfect father next to Omni-man. Like they really took a rip off justice league and I was like well, now I'm attached even tho I was like hah I know who they're supposed to be. And then bam- death gore death gore gore gore sad Mark grayson just had to have daddy issues. Why does every character have daddy issues. I'm sick of the attacks
because daddy issues make a person arguably funnier, that's why i'm not even remotely funny (haha good dad flex). i liked that it was dark contextually, but not in the colouring, bc i hate when it's like 'uh yeah graphic murder and now a shot so dark you have to sit in a dark room and squint at the screen to faintly see the characters. (like dcau ugh)
About the Wayne insurance, for a moment I thought you would put the video with moans over the waves.
i mean- i could've done that, but rick rolling seemed more family friendly.
Its the first time in forever that im surpise rickrolled, i usually expect it. Congratulations (i really should know better this is tumblr)
i get rickrolled so often but i actually like the song so i dont really give a fuck
Actually, my information about Damian and John's kids is outdated because it was revealed that the old men telling the kids stories about the Supersons were actually Jon and Damian the whole time. I was blinded by my thirst for Grandpa!Bruce Wayne but I was wrong... I liked my version better, tbh (@artemisa97)
fair enough. but i'd honestly like to see damian and jon getting together, just because it's a really fun dynamic and their friendship was really cute when they were kids. (also idk maybe it would be nice to have one (1) main batfam/superfam character that's not cishet)
How am i JUST finding your blog skdskfkd you're so fucking funny and ur takes are hot
i thought u were calling me hot :( but youre not :( crime detected (but lmao thanks)
So I have depression and I swear that your memes are one of the few things that have made me laugh so thank you đđ„ș (@katekanebadass)
aw you're welcome, and i hope you're doing okay!
The metropolis memes are so funny, I love them đđ
i think metropolis is also so fucking funny it deserves more attention imagine having your entire police force being upstaged by an alien from kansas and his kids
as an american i feel your complete lack of knowledge of us geography is just so sexy (platonic) â€ïž
thanks so much (i also don't know any other geography, i'm not kidding, like you can tell me you're from hungary and it will just blank, there will be nothing that comes to mind)
In the DC universe they don't say "Can't have shit in Detroit" they say "Can't have shit in Gotham"
this just reminds me of that guy whose porch got stolen like the steps to his door, and i'm thinking of people living in gotham and waking up without a front door and going "can't have shit in gotham"
honestly all i know about chicago is the bean, so. what would gotham's famous sculpture be?
gigantic gargoyle statue in front of one of the police precincts because a villain thought it was a smart way to keep the police inside, but it's too heavy to move.
why tf do people go on about how batman "works alone" or how he's the "lone wolf" when he like 38290202 members in his family
bc people think it's cool that a grown man in his 30s has no friends or family instead of calling it what it is (sad)
Bruce is gotham's sugar daddy
why would say something so controversial yet so brave.
my favorite batfamily fanfictions are the ones where they use their shitty codenames, unironically, in any context
dick: gerard way are you in position, gerard way are you in position
tim: for the last fucking time, my codename is 'totally not count olaf' this week, abbafan 3000
dick: shut up my codename isn't 'abbafan 3000'
dick: it's 'abbafan number 1' and you know it
I have a feeling Tim drake is ur favourite batfamily member but okay u don't have favs if u say so ok
i mean he is, i won't deny it. but i love each and every one of the batfam just the same, i just have a weak spot for short dumbass nerds, because i'm a short dumbass nerd.
Omg i fuckin love boy meets world too fam shsjkfk
bro boy meets world was the shit!!! it was just fire and awesome and so fucking great like bro. it was so good im not even going to be accepting criticism
you know I find the whole "joker completes batman" thing a bit disgusting considering the horrendous stuff the batfamily went through because of the joker and let's not get started on the "joker has a point" thing like yeah he's this cool complex villain but he's absolutely batshit crazy
like yes! i get what you mean the joker just fucking sucks man he doesn't do shit for batman's character or the batfam he's literally just annoying as fuck. like the joker has a point' shit is so stupid. i will accept 'magneto was right' because he fucking was and i think he didn't do anything wrong, but joker? he's just like that. he's not even cool and complex he's just a weirdo with a bleach kink at this point.
ALSO YOUR RACISM POST- SO TRUE BESTIE
thanks bestie, i'm glad you agree.
in today's essay of why I think cass should become batman- I was thinking Tim would probably be the most efficient batman in many ways but I also think he wouldn't want to be batman tbh none of the batfamily members would want to be batman because they're trying to outgrow him but cass is the one who wants to represent the symbol that is batman
absofuckinglutely i will say it again and again that cass represents the batsymbol more than anyone in the batfam, in batgirl (2000) she literally didn't care about anything else than bruce's oath to not kill, she thought the batsymbol was more important than anything in gotham. she's just an excellent character because her motivation to not kill is not 'i'm scared i can't come back from it' or 'well my dad says no murder so i'll go along with it' but that she's killed somebody as a young child and she never wants to kill a human ever again and that's so fucking beautiful for a new batman like yes.
need more cass, duke and tim inclusion in gothamite memes
yes yes, a tall order of cass, duke and tim coming up in 1-14 business days
oldest to youngest batfam members cus I'm confused as shit
okay order of being taken in: dick, jason, tim, cass, damian, duke order of age: alfred, bruce, dick, cass, jason, tim, duke, damian (though cass and jason are around the same age general consensus is that cass is a little older)
I'm so confused Steph is a redhead?? like how was it that hard to get this right? the source material is literally right there and free
cw is jared, 19
do you receive anon hate? if so, how do you deal with it
uh no, i'm not remotely popular enough to get anon hate and i also don't say a lot of things that would attract anon hate, but i do send anon hate to @the-real-peter-parker because he forgot about the specialists from winx club
Wait how many languages do you speak??
uhh- 5 if you include latin, but that's a dead language and i'm really bad at it. but english, my native language, german, and french also, tho german and french not fluently.
You can mix aguaepanela with aguardiente đ and is tasty
okay but now i'm curious if the liquor deserves the đ emoji or if that's a you problem. but i googled it and it looks like something you'd take one sip of and then not remember the rest of your evening.
#i love all of you guys so much thanks for all these asks#some of these are literally from march but fuck it#the day tumblr puts dates next to anon messages is the day i close my inbox crawl into a hole and die#it's such a basic task to answer asks but i don't want to bother anyone with asks clogging up their timeline#and if i don't have a funny or good answer i'm like 'uhh okay won't answer it now then'#so this is for you#also i deleted a few asks because it gives me mental pain to see my inbox go over 50 and it's almost at 100#i was complaining about having too many asks to the-real-peter-parker like months ago and then i had 45 asks in my inbox#now it's amassed to going over 100 twice#but no i love all of you and you're great and you're all fantastic and i lvoe you#muchos kiss kiss#kiss kiss for my kiddies lvoe you#invincible spoilers#dc#dcu#dc comics#ask#anon#bataranswers#i really wanna try aguapanela now i'm gonna see if i can find panela somewhere and review it for you babes#uh yeah that's it#muchos gracias for all your questions babes
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Title: little delinquent pt ii
part i | part ii | part iii
Warnings: Female!reader (bat!sis), mostly family fluff, AU, hurt/comfort, language
word count: 4000~
It had Bruce and Dick sharing a look for a moment before the latter spoke up, âItâs not like Iâm against continuing to expand the family, butâŠâ he eyed the child you held nervously, âplease donât start bringing home every child you findâŠâ he tilted his head, âheâs bad enough.â Bruce settled a light glare at his first son (that definitely wasnât what Bruce was thinking), though Dick was stilled by the way your eyes narrowed at him instead.
âHis name is Terrence,â that was all you said, brushing past as they were suddenly on guard at the inherited Wayne-scowl on your face.
-
a/n: Â still no jaybird lmao Iâm sorry, but I brought in mamabat duke, because heâs the best at being a mamabat without smothering you like your other siblings. Steph too because sheâs your sweet bean partner in crime u v u)9 For my sanity, Metropolis is in Deleware across the bay from Jersey (tho Gotham is still north of Atlantic City).
-
He wasnât certain if he should be proud or upset at how quickly youâd turned Tim against him, the two of you now working in unison, playing âkeep away from big papa Bruce.â No matter when he tried to approach you, something always seemed to happen or come up, and it was actually starting to get on his nerves. Worse was Damian seemed to be joining in, his rebellious nature being nurtured by the influence of both Tim and yourself.
He knew it would be difficult to deal with you and your ability to hide anything, just like you could hide yourself, but⊠Now he had to deal with more than just you, and Tim wasnât going to make it any easier for him. Oh no, this was going to be a headache with you two. And Damian⊠He couldnât trust that his son wouldnât give away anything he did to you, his loyalties giving out to the growing childish nature he was developing. Bruce was again at a loss, should he be happy Damian was acting his age, or upset that he was more interested in working with the âopposition?.âÂ
âItâs not a mission,â Damian had commented, so it was âfair game.â
He rested his head in his hands, fingers lightly massaging his temples as his elbows supported him, propping him up on the ornate desk in his study.  Fucking hell, he had to outsmart both the tech sleuth and the stealth agent of the family. Information was literally their game. Rather than giving into the growing frustration in his stomach, he stood up, now a bat on a mission as he quickly headed down to the cave. He thanked his moody bat heart that it was just two of his kids (he wasnât certain of Damian yet, the wild card), and not⊠moreâŠ
The League computers would definitely come in handy right about now.
He was gonna go full fucking vigilante detective bat mode on his kids.
Again.
He groaned.
-
[bigR] Dad took off for the League, bet you can guess why.
Flipping your personal phone closed with a light snort, you refocused your attention on buckling the toddler into the hand-me-down car seat. Youâd definitely have to get him a new one on your shopping trip, you just hoped Dukeâs car could fit everythingâŠ
Damian was securing his sword between him and the kid before he crawled in, closing the door and putting on his safety belt. You grinned at him as he avoided your smile, looking away instead, âhurry up.â Shaking your head, you leaned in to rub your nose against Terrenceâs own, his chubby fingers coming up to grab at your face, hair, clothes, ears, and earrings ohgodstop. Having cooed at him enough, and having been assaulted by his little nails, scratches now on your chin, you leaned back and out of his reach, closing the door softly.
âAre you sure itâs okay to shirk off for the day? Youâre the one usually patrolling at this timeâŠâ you headed to the passenger side, âBig guy said it was fine, besidesâŠâ Duke smiled and nodded his head towards the car with a wink, âwouldnât want to leave you alone with a bunch of kids.â Itâs not like he was wrong, but you were skilled enough to handle your brother and⊠son⊠ah⊠that was going to get some getting used to. A smile and spread on your face with a light laugh as you climbed in, settling, and closed the door behind you, âready to get going?â Damian glared at you before refocusing his attention on Terrence, ignoring your obviously dumb question, âPennyworth mentioned Todd having finally gotten back before I left.â
Duke had started up the car and checked over everything before heading down the manor drive, now officially on the road. Meanwhile, you hummed happily, âguess Iâll have to go see him when we get back.â Damian made a face, âgross.â You rolled your eyes in amusement, âyou knew what my reaction was gonna be.â
The two were ridiculous in how they treated each other, honestly.
âItâs still gross.â
The ride down the ocean side drive was calming, the windows lowered to let the cool ocean breeze in. Damian was back to his âpoking the toddlerâs noseâ game, having gotten used to the sound of a baby, and no longer acting like it wasnât his fault when he made the toddler laugh.
Meanwhile,
âSo, who made you the baby-sitter?â Duke kept his eyes on the road, the ever-responsible budding adult that he was, âBruce, actually.â He grinned at the way you looked at him, catching sight from the corner of his eye, âsurprising, I know. Woulda thunk Timâd have asked, huh?â
Nodding, you leaned back, âwell, I mean, yeah. Heâs been pretty upset since the other day, he wonât leave Terrence and I alone at the manor. Heâs been staying over...â You might have felt bad for lying to Duke, but the truth was that you were lying to everyone but Tim at this point. Not that it was the first time youâd lied to them. You told the truth so often that they took you at your word, never catching on when you did fib, but you were pretty certain this would blow up in your face.
Theyâd catch you eventually.
This wasnât one of those easy to digest lies either, that was the complicated part. It terrified you how theyâd react once they learned the truth.
ThenâŠ
Before that happened, you made the silent determination that youâd make your⊠son a part of the family. They wonât be able to decide anything for him then, theyâd be in too deep, youâd make certain.
Yeah, you could be a little⊠manipulative sometimes.
Probably something you got from your father.
âWhatâs up?â
âOh, sorry, nothing. My mind was just wandering,â Duke frowned a little, flipping on his blinker while coming to a slow crawl, ânot believing you.â
Turning your head to him, your grin was a bit scary, âokay, so, I was just thinking about if your car can fit everything Iâm going to want to buy.â It was enough to distract him, a groan finding its way out as he pulled into the ticketing line for the ferry.
âIf..??â
Now, to really drive it home, you pulled something from your purse and waved it at him, âIs⊠is thatâŠâ he eyed it nervously. âYes, yes it is, dear brother.â His ears burned as he turned his eyes from you, hand now outstretched in your direction.
âYouâre paying the ferry, thenâŠâ he muttered.
You put your dadâs credit card on his palm,
âRich little daddyâs girl.â
This time the snort came from the back seat, âI have one as well, Thomas. You need only ask father.â
Duke sputtered and refused to acknowledge either of you till after having crossed the Deleware Bay.
Rich kids. Honestly.
-
Metropolis always amazed you, honestly, the bright skies overhead and the amount of people without a care in the world was enviable. Still, it just wasnât⊠home. By now youâd developed some serious Stockholm for the cesspit that is Gotham. Even so, you preferred to go shopping here, their selection of high-quality stores mixed with less people recognizing you, and your family, were boons.
As you stared up at the towering high rise in front of you, Damian having disappeared inside minutes before, there was one other reason for coming to MetropolisâŠ
âYouâre always so slow! I told you to hurry up!!â
âWhoâs slow?! Youâre the slow one!!â
âBoys, pleaseââ
The loud sound of twin crashes echoâd out the opened lobby door, the two boys in question bounding out with plenty of energy and two very red chins. âThat⊠looks painfulâŠâ you smiled, walking over to check Damianâs face for actual injury.
âTt, Iâm fine.â He smacked your hand away, glaring at the super next to him, rubbing his own, already healing chin. âHey Jon, enjoying Metropolis?â The bright-eyed boy, sans cape, grinned at you from ear to ear, âThereâs so much to do here!â he almost lifted off the ground in his excitement, âbut I miss the farm.â A chuckle came from the entrance to the building, deep and warm and just as kind as the child now sticking his tongue out at your youngest brother. On the manâs broad shoulder was an overnight bag, and a sheepish smile on his face as if he felt guilty.Â
He probably did, the two boys were a handful.
Duke was leaning against the roof of the car with a huge dopey smile on his face, waving at the man approaching, âHello, you must be the chaperone, Duke Thomas?â your newest brother nodded enthusiastically, almost at a loss for words, âYup! I-I mean y-yes, itâs nice to meet you, sir!â Clark only chuckled, far too used to such formalities, âClark is fine, our families are⊠close, after all.â He watched the boys pull at each otherâs faces in mock battle.
âAh, Clark! Itâs been a while!â the older male smiled as he stopped a few feet from you and the car, hands resting on his hips, âMiss Wayne.â Near immediately, his eyes shifted to the backseat of the car and he leaned against the door, looking in.
âBruce has another kid? He looks like how I always imagined him to look as a kid, suspiciously innocent,â you froze, and he would have laughed at the thought of Bruce with more secret kids, but he straightened. Looking at you in concern instead, he started, âI know heâs not⊠the most affectionate father, butâŠâ you quickly shook your head, attempting damage control. âIt⊠no, heâs not dadâsâŠâ You laughed nervously at the look on his face, his hand raising to point at you as his mouth opened and closed a few times, trying to process.
âYup. Heâs⊠His name is Terrence, and heâs⊠my⊠sonâŠâ your tone turned warm and kind, and your eyes settled on the babe in the car with all the grace of a mother, just like Lois when Jon had been born, the older super nodded thoughtfully. âIâm glad itâs you, then. If anyone in that family can raise a good kid, itâll be you.â The two of you shared an understanding smile, though yours was accompanied by a twitch or two, swearing he enjoyed his little joke, before he turned his head painfully in surprise, as if an enemy had suddenly appeared.
Following his sight, you had to laugh at the dark glare on Damianâs face directed at Clark, âwell, I think itâs time I take my leave, then.â He scratched the back of his head, avoiding the kidâs gaze. He wanted to inquire more about the new addition to the family, but it would have to wait. Jon gave his dad a huge hug, getting his hair ruffled in the process as Clark waved at Duke, chucking the overnight bag into the car.
With a last good-bye to you, he turned high-tail and ran, as if he were almost eager to get away. Watching him jog slowly inside the building, you almost swore his steps were far lighter than his build, âprobably prefers to floatâŠâ looking away, you missed him trip.
âAlright, câmon you two. Get in.â when youâd opened the door, the two boys stared in horror, âIâm not sitting in the middle.â Damian ground out before Jon pushed him with more force than Damian could resist, âHEâS YOUR BROTHER!!! YOU SIT IN THE MIDDLE!â
âSTUPID! HEâS MY NEPHEW!â
âStill, you sit next to himâŠâ Jon pouted, and combined with your stare, Damian crawled in with a grumble, âStupid super.â Jon ignored him without issue, and youâd have to ask Damian about it later, curious as to why his best friend was so used to his insults like it was a common occurrence? Then he climbed in after, shutting the door behind him.
âNerves of steel, that one,â you mumbled, getting back in the car as Duke laughed lightly, starting the car up before heading a bit further into the city. After a few minutes and a few stop lights, Duke gave in to the side-glances you kept giving him, having caught them from the corner of his own eyes, âwhat now?â The growing devious grin on your face had him on edge, âspeaking of nerves of steelâŠâ a shiver hit the back of his neck, âplease donât.â His begging stopped nothing, âfanboy,â but of course you would, and he did his best to pay attention to the road, âdonât make me ignore you all day.â
âI thought it was cute though? Haha, Izzy would be jealous.â
âItâs⊠I mean, he wasâŠâ his ears were burning, especially at the mention of Isabellaâs name, and he pouted worse than Jon had.
âI know, but still. You know youâve met him before, right?â Duke looked like he wanted to disappear in his seat, âjust⊠in costumeâŠâ you hummed in amusement.
It didnât take long for Duke to pull into the parking lot at one of the high-end furniture stores, resting his head on the steering wheel for a moment after parking. The two boys were already out of the car, bickering and racing into the store, âyou have no taste! Itâs all dark! You canât put a baby in a depressing room!â
âYOU WANT TO BLIND HIM WITH BRIGHT COLORS!â
âYOU WANT TO SCARE HIM WITH DOOM AND GLOOM!â
The two were practically racing at this point, shoving each other back and forth, though Jon often made Damian stumble through raw strength, and Damian often made Jon trip through dirty tricks.
âAaaaand there they go.â You were already out of the car as you said it, heading to the driverâs backside door. Duke stepped out before stilling, his face falling at the straps in your hand, outstretched towards him, âyou have got to be kidding.â
âNope, youâre the babysitter today, Papa Duke.â
He took the child carrier from you, strapping the pack on with a depressed aura of resignation, âthis so doesnât look cool.â You snickered as you transferred Terrence over to the pack on Dukeâs front, âyeah, but people wonât mess with a big guy like you. Besides, I can handle Damian better than you, can you take care of our son?â you teased him.
âYeah, I can take care of⊠himâŠâ Duke eyed the child looking around at everything he could, taking in every sight with silent baby contemplation skills, thumb in his mouth.
âDonât worry, I wonât tell Izzy about us,â you thought for a moment as he ignored your comments, switching tactics. Eyeing him before patting him on the shoulder, you began heading after the two boys, âwhen you get back, tell Izzy you think she looks like a piece of candy.â
He had a confused look as he followed after you, catching up in a speed walk, âwhatâs that supposed to mean?â
Not only did his ears turn red, but his entire face and neck burned hot at the suggestive smile on your face, âOh⊠wait, w-why out of nowhere though?!â
âYou forget, I live with nothing but men. Harperâs not around often and Steph is the only female I see on a regular basis.â
âGet some friends,â he groaned.
âThatâs what family is for.â
Ugh.
-
Shopping actually went a lot better than expected, and you were able to get a new car seat at the behest of Damian, âno way youâre using a hand-me-down,â he all but threatened. There were some smaller things you could easily fit into the car, a few boxes, one for a mobile, one for a few bed sets, a giant pregnancy pillow -- regardless that you werenât pregnant, you wanted the giant horseshoe pillow. Jon was jealous of it, now wanting one of his own, as you picked up some non-essentials.
The bigger things would have to be shipped, a crib for a few months till he was big enough, small bed with side bars so he wouldnât fall out when ready to swap out the crib. They even had a huge rocking chair! It was probably one of the most comfortable things you had ever sat in, its ability to ârockâ you back and forth on its slides without losing much momentum was heaven.
And you could curl up in it.
Somewhere in all the chaos, just as expected, youâd gone and lost both the boys. Or, well, more like they lost you. Duke was still dutiful with Terrence, and he was also really amazing at looking at details and knowing what item was better than the next. Sure, youâd been taught the same skills, but you were preoccupied with Damian and Jon (until you werenât).
âHum⊠hey, Iâm gonna go check out next door, okay?â Duke turned to you from the different curtains in his hand, having taken to looking at a few general things for the room; curtains, bookshelves, a desk or two.
Unlike your father and most of your family, you had far more free time to do these small things yourself, never needing to hire an assistant to do all the work. You only needed some help with moving things, of course. It was something youâd picked up from both Alfred and the Kents, the equally uneasy and comforting feeling of being humble.
âSure, which one?â
âThe clothing store, I think thereâs a dedicated kid store a bit further down the mall strip, Iâll probably make my way towards that.â Duke pouted, âleaving me alone with the kids?â
âJust one.â To emphasis your point, Terrence decided to start pulling on the same curtain as Duke, though Duke swatted his hands away quickly. A one-sided glaring contest began as the kid kept his frown on Duke, not looking away.
Duke looked around ignoring him, âthatâs⊠trueâŠâ
âThanks Papa Duke!â you gave him a hug, burying your face in Terrenceâs and pelting him with kisses, pulling back only when his laughter echoed around the three of you. Duke refused to look at you as you cooed at the child strapped to his chest, awkward, âI hate you.â
âYou love me.â
He snorted and went back to picking out curtains, âand donât you forget it.â
âYou have my card still, right?â He nodded, not even bothering to ask if you needed it. He knew you didnât carry paper notes around, having seen you use your phone to pay for things physically too often.
Taking that as your cue, you turned to leave, âtext if you need anything, and keep an eye out for the boys, Iâll⊠look, too,â and a moment later you were outside the store, stretching in the sun with a big breath of fresh air. Dang you loved Gotham, but also? Dang you loved Metropolis, too.
-
[steph] hey, herd u like
[steph] have a baby now???!
[steph] ;)))))
The buzzing of your personal phone caught your attention,
[you] tim? also, switching over for a bit.
You switched recipients,
[you] ready.
Turning the phone off and flipping it closed, you began walking in the opposite direction that Duke had been told, popping the back of the case off and pulling out the battery.
Youâd asked Tim to redirect a dummy signal for your phone, keeping it within a five-foot radius of Duke for the next forty minutes or so. Heâd given you the thumbs up, your telling him everything when you got back being his payment for helping.
He was very curious as to why you were breaking in to the LexCorp building.
The rather fast-paced walk (almost a light jog) to the building wasnât that long, youâd made certain the stores you chose were close on purpose. Taking out your business phone, you opened it to another text as you started up a rather⊠illegal app. Your phoneâd been rooted from the moment you had it, and it was hooked up to a very specific closed network.
This outing was one of the only chances youâd get, having lucked out with the more lenient Duke, as your other siblings were far more vigilant. Damian meanwhile was distracted by Jon, the two acting more like brawling siblings than best friends. Though Damian preferred the term rivals, but Jon was just happy to have a close friend he could be himself with.
[splr] he couldnât contain himself
[splr] was vibinâ like flash lol
There were very few people who had access to this phone, and unfortunately for Tim, it was a hazard for both of you to have any kind of connection to him on your work phone. Stephanie however was one of the very few people who got to have that privilege.
[you] remind me to thank him for stealing my thundr
The family had the Bat-computer, Batman had the Leagueâs Womb mainframe, the Robins had their Nest, and you? You had access to something older, reborn too many times, and set up and now maintained by some genius mastermind youâd never heard of.Â
It was a mostly defunct information network by this point.
Youâd met some really interesting people when you used to tail your father, and through repeated encounters, youâd met even more interesting uh... âfriends.â Eventually you werenât stalking your dad, instead, you were learning to do what you did best:Â Spy-games and recon.
And youâd impressed the wrong people.
But you didnât mind, you liked the constant link to âtheirâ information hubs.
[splr] lol
[splr] coffee tmrrw?
The Societyâs Networks.
You knew your dad suspected some of your activities, but he never approached you about them. Probably because Batman enjoyed your access to these networks often when they were online, having come to you on multiple occasions to see if you could help with his detective work.Â
You were playing double agent, compiling what you could from the chatter picked up from specific phones hooked into the closed channels. Sure, they werenât always active and so sometimes you had to go with information from recon, but you did what you could, your bias for your bats, and birds, too strong. For your family.
[you] the same-same
[splr] c u tmrw then ;)
[splr] donât forget the kid lol
Not that youâd ever shown him, if Batman knew what kind of information the Society had in their databases, well⊠you were pretty certain the world would burn.Â
He once said it was best he didnât know, something about helping to keep a balance between the good and the bad, causing both sides to stay in check.
The databaseâs app held all kinds of information, and as you downloaded the LexCorp building plans (sans recent modifications), you stared at the towering complex in front of you. Before you went further, you made certain the matrix encryption program was running, after all, âno reason to let anyone know Iâm here.â
âDone this tons of times, can totally do this again,â but LexCorp was terrifying, Lex Luthor was terrifying, almost as much as Wayne Enterprises. Hereâs to hoping your dadâs technology and Timâs brain were smarter than anything Lex could cook up.
Besides, wasnât he under house arrest right now?
It did nothing to calm your nerves.
âNerves of steel, totally.â
You had to be fast.
#tim drake x reader#dick grayson x reader#jason todd x reader#stephanie brown x reader#duke thomas x reader#bat!sis
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Ace fic request if ya feel: Jmart taking a bath together at Upton, w some nonsexual nudity/intimacy? Thank u!!
âAhaha, Iâll ask for some ace fic prompts and do drabbles for it!â I said, naively. 3K words later. Thank you Gwyn for reading over this and fixing my typos because it is. now coming up to 5am because I decided to write 3K in one sitting
CWs for talk of nudity but no one ever gets full nakey. Jon also has a brief panic about not being able to protect Martin without the Eye.
Ao3 version tooÂ
Theyâd probably been awake for an hour or so by the time the feeling of grime coating his skin became intolerable.Â
It felt wrong, really, the juxtaposition of the soft, clean cotton under his head and the greasy knots his hair had woven itself into over the course of their journey. Like it was insulting to the pillow, the case of which, Jon guessed absently, was worth more than his entire bed back in his flat, if it was still standing.
And wasnât that something? To have to guess that and not just be aware. As it normally was, the Beholding would inform him that that wasnât quite true, as while the sheets on this bed were certainly nice they were more chosen for display purposes than with the intent of anyone truly sleeping in them. The house was a museum. The curators had not supposed upon the current scenario.Â
The current scenario being that there were two men lying in it, half asleep, lying still and just staring at each other with an eye-watering fondness. They had spoken, when they first awoke. Got out all the words they wanted to say. The âWhere are weâ and the âHow long were we asleep?â and the âIs it finally safe to rest?â and the âI love you so, so much.âÂ
Now the thing to break the silence was the sound of Martinâs stomach making its discontent known. This, of course, sent them both into peals of laughter, because when was the last time theyâd felt mundane hunger?Â
âDo you think they even have food here?â Martin asks, still buried up to his neck in duvet.Â
âPerhaps? Salesa surely has to eat, if we do.âÂ
âYeah, but Annabelle though,â Martin chews his lip in mock contemplation. âWhat if we go downstairs and open up all the cupboards and itâs just⊠Flies as far as the eye can see, all wrapped up for eating. Thereâs one in the fridge all done up on a platter like a Christmas ham. Cloves spiked into it and all.âÂ
Jon winces. âIâd really rather not picture that right now, if you donât mind.â
âAh, course,â Martin says, looking slightly sheepish as they lapse into silence again. âShould probably go check though. Donât exactly want to have gotten through all that just to starve. Though Iâd happily let this be my death bed, honestly. Donât think Iâve slept that well in⊠Ever.âÂ
âMmh, now that you mention it, Iâm quite peckish as well⊠Odd, that. Had almost forgotten what it felt like.â Jon heaves himself into a sitting position, and takes stock of the door to his left. âProbably the bathroom. Ensuite. Very nice.âÂ
âYou want to get cleaned up before we go scavenging?â Martin asks, prying the duvet away like heâs pulling teeth. Jon feels bad that they canât just stay in bed all day. He hadnât been able to sleep, in the safe house, but Martin had chosen to dream. He might be biased, but Jon figures that that was probably worse. Martin seemed now to be relishing the opportunity to relax.
âI think we rather need it. Not keen to embarrass ourselves in front of our hosts a second time, so Iâd rather not appear downstairs looking like something the cat dragged in.â Jon shoves the duvet away and gets, somewhat shakily, to his feet. Damn. No Beholding means the pain from- Where- The wound⊠His leg hurts. It means his leg hurts something fierce. He hopes he can stand in the shower.Â
When he makes his way over to the door and swings it open, it turns out not to be a concern. The bathroom, in the fashion of the rest of the house, has no shower. Instead, a comically beautiful bathtub sits against the opposing wall. Itâs a clawfoot, gold varnish painted over its feet where porcelain turns to antique wood.Â
âYou want to go first then?â Martin asks, slowly pulling the duvet around himself again.Â
Jon rolls his eyes. âYes, Iâll go on ahead. You enjoy the extra time.âÂ
Martin gives him a smug look and burrows down again. God, Jon really, really loves him. Which is why, when he puts his hand on the door handle to close it behind him, he freezes.Â
Statement readings aside, this will be the first time Martin has been out of his sight in⊠However you choose to categorize the indefinite amount of time they spent roaming the hellscape. And even then, Jon had his powers. If anything threatened Martin heâd be there to help him. To save him. The Eye offers no such comfort now. Jon doesnât want to close the door. He doesnât want Martin out of his line of sight. Not with Annabelle here. He won't leave him alone, not now.Â
â... Jon? You okay?â
Jon realises heâs been standing in the doorway for at least a minute now, hand frozen in indecision. He blinks a few times, trying to bring his eyes back into focus. He opens his mouth, and finds himself gaping slightly, looking for the words.Â
Martin shifts, sitting back up again. âJon, talk to me. Whatâs wrong?â
It comes out like a croak. âI- I donât Know.â
Martinâs tone is gentle, placating, two hands gently offered out in Jonâs direction. âYou donât know whatâs wrong?â
âNo, I donât Know,â he can feel tears beading at the corners of his eyes and tries to push down the lump in his throat. Heâs gone this long without crying, why does he have to go and do it now, ruin the peaceful moment that heâd watch Martin lapse into like a drowning man with air.Â
âHey, hey, hey,â Martin hushes, sliding out of bed and walking round from his side. He brings his arms around Jon and just lets them stay there, not pulling him against his chest in a restrictive grasp, but just laying his hands against his back, letting him know heâs there.Â
Despite his best attempts, Jon lets out a hiccup. âAnd- And that should be a good thing. It should. I donât want to Know. But itâs⊠Iâve spent so long with this constant presence at the back of my skull and now it feels⊠Itâs raw and itâs vulnerable. Annabelle Cane could be a wall away and Iâm vulnerable and that means you are too. If Iâm in another room, I canât Know if something is wrong, and more importantly, if something does go wrong I canât save you.â
The right wrapped around to hold Jonâs left hip, Martinâs free hand has been tracing soothing patterns into his back through his shirt. It stills when Jon finishes. He takes a moment, before breathing out heavily through his nose. He leans back slightly so he can look down and match eye levels.Â
âJon,â he says, and his voice is as soft as that duvet felt. âI canât imagine what thatâs like. Iâm so sorry. I thought being free of the Eye would be a good thing, I didnât even consider how it would feel for you. I canât promise nothing will go wrong, because⊠Well, our track record speaks for itself. But I can try and ease your fears.â He brushes Jonâs fringe out of the way, and presses a quick kiss to his forehead. âTub seems pretty big. How do you feel about taking a bath together?âÂ
Jon feels his face, flushed from tears, pale. And oh what a relief, to feel a fear so comparatively⊠Mundane. To not be afraid of the cosmic monstrosity in the back of your brain, or the spiders with motives that scuttle across the ceiling, or the fact that you are responsible for the suffering of billions. Oh to be afraid of⊠Intimacy.Â
Martin must feel him tense, because the hand on his back drops away, and the one at his hip loosens its grip. âIâm sorry, if thatâs too much, we can just-â
âNo,â Jon cuts him off, and is surprised at his own voice. âNo, I⊠I would like that. That sounds nice.â
He knows itâs from his earlier anxieties, but Martin must still be able to feel Jon trembling slightly under his hand, because he continues to give Jon a sceptical look.Â
âForgive me for being blunt, but you really donât seem up for that. If thatâs not in your⊠Intimacy wheelhouse, I get it.âÂ
âIâm just a little shaken, is all,â Jon says, but he knows thereâs a truth to Martinâs words. He knows Martin respects him and his orientation, theyâd had long discussions about it in the safe house, about boundaries and desires and how Jon wanted to spend his days glued to Martinâs side but he under no circumstances wished to have sex with him. He knows that this isnât what that is, that Martin means it in the most innocent fashion imaginable, but thereâs still something about the idea of close, physical proximity while naked that makes the hairs on his arm stand on end and his stomach churn.Â
Itâs not that he was bashful about it. Heâd seen Martin naked before, gotten changed in the same room most mornings and evenings in the safe house, but that was just a symptom of existing in the same space, never something actively done with the intent to exhibit. It had, predictably, stirred no feelings in him. The idea of them so close while not clothed⊠No, that wouldnât be happening.Â
âI- Can I make one request, though?â Jon asks, tilting his no longer watery eyes up to meet Martinâs.Â
âAnything,â Martin replies, no hesitation to be found.Â
Jon feels his face flush again, and the rapid pooling and draining of blood from his face must be doing terrible things to his circulation. âCan- Can we keep our underwear on? Please? God, sorry, that must sound horribly childish-âÂ
âNo, no thatâs okay. Whatever you need to feel comfortable,â Martin says and his voice is not so much laced with sincerity as built from bricks of it.Â
They break apart and Martin ambles through the doorway and over to the bath, turning the water on. It sputters, clearly struggling after years of disuse, but after a few seconds it flows clear. Martin waits for the brackish residue to be cleaned away before popping the plug into place.
Jon preoccupies himself with looking over the shelves. They were well stocked, likely by Salesa, as Jon has a hard time believing that plastic bottles full of opalescent purple liquid were considered period appropriate set dressing. He pops the lid open on one and is met by a strong whiff of lavender. He tucks it under his arm before swiping a shampoo and matching conditioner.Â
âFind something you like?â Martin asks, leaning against the edge of the tub. Jon hums a response before joining him. The tub was filling up quickly now, almost half way full and the water is pleasantly warm when he drags his fingers through it. Jon deposits two of the bottles where they can be grabbed when needed, before taking the lavender body wash and drawing swirls into the water until a layer of foam and bubbles begin to build on the surface.Â
When Jon turns back to face Martin, his fingers are twitching at the hem of his t-shirt. Whoever was responsible for transferring them from cold marble floor to warm bed had also seen to it that their shoes were removed, as well as their bags and coats, which Jon had seen folded and placed over a chair in the corner of the bedroom. They were both down to their now ripped, muddied and bloodied trousers, and two v-neck t-shirts from the same set, Jonâs of which was tucked into his jeans to disguise the fact that it was several sizes too large. What possible conclusion could be drawn from that?
Martin cleared his throat. âDo you mind, then, if IâŠ?â
âYes, of course, go ahead.âÂ
Martin pulled his shirt over his head.Â
Itâs not that Jon didnât find him attractive. He did, very much so, just in the romantic sense. So seeing Martin shirtless was similar to seeing him in a particularly flattering outfit. It didnât change the way he felt about him, just intensified it. He was very handsome and Jon enjoyed getting to look at him.Â
He pulls his own shirt over his head, before turning back to trail his hands through the water again, trying to gage the temperature and encourage more bubbles. When he turns back to face Martin again, heâs fiddling with his belt, eventually getting it undone and letting his trousers drop. Jon does the same. And then nothing more happens, and Jon breathes a sigh of relief. Itâs not that he hadnât trusted Martin to keep his word and not fully strip on him, it was just.. It was a relief.Â
âShall we?â Martin asks, gesturing towards the water.Â
âLetâs,â Jon responds, hooking one leg over the edge before stepping fully into the bath, and letting himself sink below the water.Â
Heâs just about acclimated when suddenly the water is rising slightly as Martin joins him, placing himself at the other end of the tub. Thereâs not enough room for his legs, so he ends up with his knees close to his chest, sticking out of the water. Jonâs just about fit, stretching down to the other end of the bath and bracketing each side of Martinâs hips.Â
If the bed was heaven, this is absolutely blissful. The warm water surrounds his aching joints, slowly massaging them as it laps around him. The water, just seconds earlier clean and pure, is already starting to take on a stale quality as the dirt begins to slough off of the two of them, but Jon canât bring himself to care for relief that itâs no longer coating his skin. He thinks the lavender may have been a bad choice, because between it and the warmth heâs finding it hard not to fall asleep again.Â
âThis okay?â Martin asks, because heâs still worried about Jon and his comfort and that makes his heart ache with affection, that someone would care that much about him and his boundaries.Â
âFar more than okay,â he responds, dragging one hand down the other arm in an attempt to get some stubborn filth off. Martin is doing the same, except heâs wisely taken a sponge from somewhere and is scrubbing at a spot on his ankle where his trouser and boot hadnât quite met and the Buried had decided to leave a crusted circle in its wake.Â
They sit in silence for quite a while, each taking care of their own needs before Jon reaches one arm out of the bath to make a swipe at the bottle of shampoo.Â
âHere, let me,â Martin says, breaking the quiet. He shifts forward slightly, on instinct, before pausing and rocking back slightly. âIf you want, that is. Do you?âÂ
âDo I what?âÂ
âDo you want me to do your hair? Itâs just- Itâs probably easier, yâknow, than you trying to do it yourself.âÂ
âAnd far more romantic,â Jon adds, smiling as he leans over to press a kiss to Martinâs freshly cleaned cheek.Â
âThat too. Do you want to turn around?âÂ
Jon answers wordlessly by shifting until heâs facing away from Martin. Heâs surprised, but not unpleasantly so, when Martinâs arms wrap around him and gently pull him backwards until his back is just shy of flush with Martinâs chest. Itâs very intimate. Itâs very nice.Â
âThat okay?â Martin asks again, and more than âI love youâ, thatâs a phrase Jon will never grow tired of hearing because it means Martin truly cares for his comfort.Â
âAbsolutely.âÂ
âGood,â Martin says, as he uncaps the shampoo and pours a small puddle of it into his hands. Even turned away, Jon can smell the wafts of artificial apple scenting in the stuff.Â
When Martin starts to gently drag his fingers against Jonâs scalp, he can feel himself almost melt under the touch. His spine loses all tension and he lets himself fall back entirely against Martinâs chest, and itâs only the knowledge that he needs to keep still for Martin to actually do his job that stops him from turning and burrowing his face there.Â
âI really hope that was a positive thing and you havenât just fainted on me. Like, literally on me,â Martin says from behind him and this close, pressed up against him Jon can feel it reverberating in Martinâs chest.Â
âStill conscious, donât worry. Thatâs just⊠Very nice.âÂ
âOh! Well⊠Good.âÂ
This continues for a few minutes, Martin slowly making his way from the scalp down to the roots of Jonâs hair, untangling it with his fingers and then repeating the process with the conditioner until his hair ran smooth under Martinâs hands. Even when Jon knows heâs long finished any actual hair care, Martin continues to run his fingers through the hair, just because. Jon loved him for it.
Eventually, both of Martinâs hands come to rest against Jonâs torso. âThis okay?âÂ
âYes. I donât mind any of the touching, as long as itâs⊠Nowhere previously established to be out of bounds.âÂ
âGotcha,â Martin says, pressing a kiss to Jonâs shoulder that makes his brain fizzle like fireworks.Â
It takes Jon a minute to fully realise what Martin is doing. Two hands trace lines along his ribcage, one on each side, thumbs gently drawing and redrawing a pattern. His scars.Â
Then, the hands travel upwards. Again, two lines along his chest, traced with as much tender care, and Jonâs brain has gone a little fuzzy. Heâs unused to such casual touching. There is nothing hurried about it, no urgency, no purpose other than to make him feel good. To make him feel loved and cherished, and if heâs being honest, itâs working. No ulterior motive. This isnât the lead up to anything. It just exists on itâs own as an experience he gets to have without worrying about what comes after, because he knows the answer is nothing.Â
After, Martin shifts slightly, leaning forward. One hand cups Jonâs elbow, raising that arm out of the water as one by one, from shoulder to palm, Martin makes his way down pressing a soft kiss to each and every circular scar. He repeats the process with the other arm. As if to finish it off, he presses a slow, soft, close mouthed kiss to the line that stretches across the front of Jonâs neck.
Heâs perfect. Martin Blackwood is perfect and Jon doesnât know what he did to deserve⊠This. This quiet barrage of love, the consideration and care poured into it something Jon never thought he would be worthy of, let alone have become a reality.
Jon twists to lie sideways, pressed against Martin with his head tucked under Martinâs chin. Martinâs knees bracket his shoulders on either side and he feels safe. He is in the eye of the storm, a brief respite from the dreadful horrors that ravage the world outside their bubble, but with Martin Blackwood he is safe.
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hi can u do âIs that my shirt?â or âYou look really tiredâ for sansaery pls
Sansa rubs her eyes and looks at the clock. Itâs 3:14am. She curses at herself because sheâs got an 8am with one of the strictest TAs in the world. Perhaps the entire universe. She really needs to sleep if sheâs going to make it through the hour of recitation without falling dead asleep. Jonâs fallen asleep in class with her and sheâs narrowly missed the marker being thrown at him. The marker would definitely hit her.Â
Ugh. She groans and pulls herself out of her chair. Half of her calculus homework isnât even done yet. Her weakest subject that keeps her up at night, literally and figuratively. Itâs not even due in the morning, but it takes her so long that getting a start on it early eases her anxiety.Â
She stumbles out of her room to a bright living room. Her eyes shrink into squints at the light of the suite dorm. She winces audibly.Â
âYou look really tired.âÂ
The voice is unmistakably her roommateâs and itâs annoying. How can anyone sound so awake at 3 in the morning?Â
âWhy are you up so late?â Sansa groans as her eyes readjust to the light brighter than the desk lamp in her room.Â
Margaery stands in the kitchenette with a glass of juice looking awake and beautiful. How in the world? Sheâs wearing a pantsuit, black ankle trousers and a black blazer with a crisp baby blue button up. Her immaculate brown hair is half up with waves down her back.Â
âMock trial practice,â Margaery sighs as she takes a big swig of her juice. âI didnât think youâd be up this late.âÂ
Sansa groans. âItâs because of calculus.âÂ
âThe big assignment?â
âYeah.â Sansa moves to the fridge for something to drink. She wishes she could enjoy Margaeryâs beautiful looks right now, but sheâs too tired.Â
Margaery moves aside before saying, âOh, I have the last of the juice. Sorry didnât think you were going to be up,â she apologizes, knowing that Sansa likes to drink something before bed. âThe milk was expired.â
Sansa frowns at the unfortunate turn of events. She opens up the fridge anyway, wondering what else there is. âItâs okay,â she absently says. âWater isnât a bad idea either.âÂ
Margaery touches Sansaâs shoulder to get her attention. âHere, take the rest. I can get some more after class tomorrow.â If Sansa wasnât so tired, sheâd refuse, feeling shy to share a drink with her roommate, but at this hour and the need to sleep trumps her shyness.Â
âThank you,â Sansa says tiredly as she takes the glass from Margaery.Â
âIf you need a tutor, I can ask Lancel if he has a slot open for his tutoring session,â Margaery offers. She tucks a stray hair behind Sansaâs ear. She strokes the rest of her hair tenderly.Â
Sansa doesnât fight it. In fact, this time around she revels in it. Thankful that she decided to room with the senior because she takes care of her well. âIâd appreciate that.â
Margaery smiles at the younger girl. âIâll let him know. I have to go. We have to run the trial one more time.â She strokes Sansaâs hair once more. âGet some rest. Donât get hit by Joffreyâs markers tomorrow.âÂ
Sansa nods, enjoying Margaeryâs touch as she finishes the juice. Margaery gives her a small smile before leaving. Itâs only when the door closes that Sansa leans back against the fridge, staring after Margaery, missing her already. âIâll see you tomorrow. I love you.â She says to the empty dorm. Maybe tomorrow sheâll say it to Margaery.
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leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic
Read from the beginning on Tumblr || Also on AO3
Chapter 46: Martin
Having Melanie definitely helps, in ways Martin hasnât been expecting.
In the first place, having someone new in the Archives who needs to learn the ropesânever mind that theyâre still basically making it up as they go in a lot of waysâgives him a new project to focus on, and one that he doesnât have to stress about hiding from Elias. He suspects Melanie catches on a lot quicker than she lets on, and really thereâs not that much to pick up on, but she plays it a bit stupid and asks a lot of questions. On Thursday, when Elias is distracted by his weekly meeting with the library staff (which goes on longer now that Diana is gone, especially since he doesnât seem to be telling them oh, yeah, sheâs been dead for at least a year and got replaced by a monster and I let it happen to torture the Archivist), she points out that if he thinks theyâre spending time trying to get her up to speed, heâll leave them alone a bit longer. Martin isnât sure about that, but he lets it go.
Besides that, while he doesnât want to admit it aloud, Martin likes having someone around whoâs more on his level. Melanie might have a degree, but itâs what a lot of the people up in the Library would have disparagingly called a âfluffâ degree, one where she didnât have to do the same level of intense research or the same types of papers. It means that, like Martin, she doesnât have the same precision and academic style that Sasha and Tim do to their research and notes. At the same time, sheâs been running her own thing for so long that, unlike Martin (or at least unlike Martin when he started), she isnât afraid of operating on a hunch and a load of guesswork.
She fits in well. Sheâs got a bit of a bite to her, but her sense of humor is close to Martinâs, and they have similar enough tastes that they can have decent discussions but differing enough tastes that they can have spirited but ultimately friendly debates. Theyâve also discovered an ability to riff off of one another. Melanie even installed a little widget on her computer that keeps track of how long she and Martin can toss jokes back and forth with a straight face before one of the others begs them to stop or laughs so hard they canât breathe. So far their record is forty-seven minutes, but itâs only been a few days.
Itâs enough to keep him distracted while heâs at work, at least. Same with Tim, or so he says. And when theyâre actually focusing on the research and filing and recording of statements, itâs hard to focus on anything else. The problem is that they really canât let themselves get too deep into it and risk falling deeper into the Eyeâs thrall, so they have to pace themselves. Martinâs pretty sure itâs harder for him than it is for Tim, at least at first, but when he sees Timâs hands shaking as he tries to resist picking up a statement, he reevaluates that a bit.
Weirdly, itâs harder to resist without Sasha thereâshe takes Jon Primeâs suggestion and skips out for the rest of the weekâwhich tells Martin sheâs absorbing a lot of the Beholderâs power. He ends up enlisting Melanie to make sure he and Tim donât take work home on Friday. She practically frog-marches them down the block, then hugs them both and tells them to take care before peeling off to do whatever it is sheâs planning to do for the weekend.
The weekend is the hardest part. Martin and Tim try to distract themselves, and each other, but so much of what they do reminds them that Jon isnât there and they havenât heard from him, except occasional texts. In sheer desperation, they collect Charlieâwho misses Jon almost as much as they doâand take him to the London Zoo on Saturday. It takes a little bit for all of them to relax, but soon theyâre enjoying themselves, laughing and eagerly talking about the animals and exploring the exhibits. Martinâs phone isnât going to have enough space for all the pictures heâs taking, but he decides itâs worth it.
âYou have a lovely family,â a zoo worker tells Martin with a grin as heâs snapping a photo of Tim lifting Charlie up so he can high-five a monkey through the glass of the enclosure, and Martin thanks him for the compliment without thinking twice about it. Itâs not until theyâre halfway home, Charlie worn out from excitement and exertion and sound asleep against Timâs shoulder, that it catches up to him and he realizes that people they encounter out in public lump them together as a familyâthat people werenât seeing him and Tim as babysitters or even uncles, but as a couple and Charlieâs fathers.
What surprises him is that he doesnât start panicking over it. He just thinks well, thatâs a thing and moves on.
Sunday they take Charlie to the St. Patrickâs Day parade; none of them have any interest in it, itâs just something to do to keep their minds occupied. Tim gets into a chat with a woman whose son is a little bit older than Charlie and seems thoughtful afterward, but wonât say anything. Heâs a lot clingier that night, though, not that Martin minds.
Sashaâs back on Monday, seeming none the worse for the wear, and they settle into the usual business of things. Tim and Sasha do their usual weekly lunch; when they get back, Melanie offers to buy Martin lunch and they end up talking about the weekend. It turns out she was at the parade herself, with Georgie, and they have a decent laugh about not having run into each other. Sheâs curious about Charlie, though, and Martin ends up showing her the pictures he took over the weekend.
âSo when are you going to adopt this kid?â Melanie asks as they head back to the Institute. Itâs the first day of spring, but you wouldnât know it from the grey and gloomy weather. Itâs also started rainingâshockerâand theyâre huddled into their jackets with the hoods pulled up because both of them are too stubborn to carry umbrellas unless itâs pouring buckets. âI mean, you said heâs an orphan, and his grandmother doesnât seem to care much about him. And itâs obvious he adores you all. Could do worse than having the three of you as dads.â
Martin nearly misses his step, but manages to recover. âItâs not really something weâve talked about. ButâŠhypothetically, if we were going to try and convince Mrs. Calloway to let us take him off her hands, weâd probably want to wait until after weâre sure itâs safe, you know? Heâs a little kid. He doesnât need to be mixed up inâŠall of this.â
âFair. Meanwhile, you can just keep spoiling the hell out of him and rescuing him when you can.â
âThatâs the plan.â Martin holds the Archives door open for her.
Elias is unusually present all afternoon, which puts all of them on edge. Itâs not until theyâre home and making dinner that Tim says quietly to Martin, âI think somethingâs wrong with Jon.â
Fear lances through Martinâs chest. âWhat makes you think that?â
Tim shrugs and hands him the lettuce. âWe havenât really heard from him since he left, except in texts. Sasha says he got in touch with her over the weekend and asked her to look into something for himâapparently Gertrude got arrested while she was in Americaâand she said he sounded kind of off. And now Elias is lurking about? I donât doubt for a minute that somethingâs gone wrong and Elias is trying to either make things worse or find out if we know.â
âSurprised he didnât say anything,â Martin mutters. He bites his lower lip hard enough that he feels it split and forces himself to stop. âU-unless, unless he was trying to see whether or not we could See across the ocean or whatever.â
âIâd like to think we would. Know if he was in danger, I mean. ButâŠGod. We didnât know heâd been kidnapped or threatened or any of it. Anything could be happening and weâre not there to help.â Timâs voice breaks on the last words.
âHeâll be okay,â Martin says, less because he actually believes it and more because he needs to believe it. âHe promised.â
âYeah.â Tim leans into Martin for a minute, then goes back to cooking.
Somehow they make it through dinner, and a couple games of backgammon after, but Martin can tell theyâre both still tense and heâs already resigning himself to a restless night for both of them as they start to settle in. Melanieâs going to give them hell in the morning, he can feel itâŠ
As the thought passes through his mind, his phone rings. A phone call this late at night is never good news, and Martinâs anxiety goes into overdrive. Somethingâs happened to Jon, or to Charlie, or to Sasha or MelanieâŠor else itâs the home calling about his mum.
He grabs for the phone and answers without looking at the display. âHello?â
âMartin?â
Just his name, but the soft draw of the first syllable is as familiar to Martin as his own heartbeat, and he sits up straighter. âJon? Jon, areâh-hang on.â He makes eye contact with Tim, whose head jerked up as Martin said Jonâs name, and fumbles with the phone for a minute before activating the speaker button and holding it out in front of him. âCan you still hear me?â
âYes, I hear you just fine.â Jonâs voice is a little tinny but perfectly clear.
Tim gives a near-silent sigh and sinks down onto the side of the bed next to Martin. âJon, thank God. We were starting to worry about you.â
âTim?â Jonâs sigh is far more audible. âIâm sorry. IâI didnât mean toâi-itâs been a rough week. Howâis everything all right with you?â
âWeâre fine. No problems.â Martin puts the arm not occupied with his phone around Timâs shoulders, and Tim slides an arm around his waist. âAre youâhowâs theâdid you find anything?â
âIâI donât know. The address Gertrude gave Zhang Xiaoling to forward anything to didnât really pan out; itâs a short-term rental place, there must have been a dozen people through there since she and Gerard Keay stayed. The owner said he heard calliope music from West Pullman park a few nights when they were staying here, but nothing more than that.â Jon takes a deep breath. âIâm in Pittsburgh now. The records you foundâthatâs where Gerard Keay died, so I justâŠwanted to check up on that. The hospitalâI could only find one nurse who remembered him being admitted. His cancer was pretty far advancedâŠheâd had a seizure, and they did their best, but he had another one and they couldnât save him. The nurse was the one who told me Gertrude had been arrestedâdid Sasha tell you about that?â
âShe did,â Tim says. âShe also said you soundedâŠoff.â
Jonâs silent for a moment. âIâwas. I wasnât feeling well. It took me far too long to realize, butâth-there was a statement I read while I was at Pu Songling, I thought Iâd be okay, but a-apparently things haveâŠprogressed faster than I expected. I wasâhungry, I suppose. I hadnât thought to bring a statement. I was dizzy and weak and close to passing out, andâI opened the front pocket of my bag and found a statement in there. Was thatâwas it one of you?â
âMartin thought of it,â Tim says. âRight before you left, while you were showering, he asked if youâd brought a statement with you.â
âTimâs the one who put it in your bag, though,â Martin adds.
âI should have thought of it. I should haveâI really didnât expect to be gone this long.â Jon sighs heavily. âThank you both. Seriously. IâI might have been in actual danger if you hadnât. But Iâm okay now. I promise. I read the statement andâŠwell, Iâve been asleep most of the day, honestly. I think I needed it.â
âJesus,â Martin mutters. He has to close his eyes for a moment, and he feels Tim press closer to him. âTheâdid you, um, did you find out anything else about Gertrude?â
âOh. Yes. She was arrested for trespassingâthey found her in the morgue stood over Gerard Keayâs body, reading from a large, strangely-shaped book. Apparently his body wasâŠmutilated, though they didnât know if she did it, and she managed to talk them out of pressing charges somehow. The officer I spoke to doesnât remember how. IâI may not have been able to draw as much power, being as drained as I was, but itâs also possible, even probable, that he really doesnât remember.â
Martin looks at Tim, whose eyes reflect the worry Martinâs feeling himself. âSo now what?â
Jon is silent again, but before Martin can repeat the question, he says, quietly but firmly, âI think itâs just another dead end, and Iâve decided itâs the last one. Iâve booked a ticket on a Greyhound to Washington, DC tomorrow. Iâm going to stop in at the Usher Foundation, just in case they have anything that might be helpful, and then Iâm coming home.â
Martin relaxes, and he feels a lot of the tension bleed out of Tim as well. âSo you should be backâŠâ
âWell, the bus doesnât get into Washington untilâŠhold on.â Thereâs the sound of fumbling and clicking. âIâd be there around five oâclock in the evening, so I likely wonât be able to even stop by the Usher Foundation until Wednesday morning. My intention is to be there as soon as they open. I donât anticipate them having anything useful, honestly, soâŠif Iâm fortunate, Iâll be home by Wednesday night. Worst-case scenario, early Thursday morning.â
âCall us when you know,â Tim says. âWeâll pick you up.â
âIf itâs too early in the morningââ
âWeâll know enough in advance that we can set alarms. Come on, Jon, weâre not making you take the Underground homeâor worse, a taxi. Youâve been away long enough. Weâll come and get you.â
âOkay. Okay,â Jon says softly. He clears his throat and adds, âHow are you doing? How areâis Elias leaving you all alone?â
âFor the most part. He was hovering today,â Martin answers. âWe think heâs been watching you a bit, andâŠmaybe just leaving us be to see what happens. He, umâweâve got a new Archival Assistant.â
âWe do? Who? Oh, God, did he transfer someone in?â
âNope.â Tim pops the P hard. âHe intercepted Melanie when she came by on Tuesday to read the Ivy Meadows file. Suggested she might want the job.â
âAnd she accepted?â Jon sounds horrified. âWe warned her!â
âI know, but sheâs good at this,â Martin tells him. âThe researching and all. AndâŠwell, at least she knew what she was getting into. I donât think itâs a bad thing, Jon.â
Jon sighs. âI trust your judgment. Other than thatâŠoutside of work. Are you two okay? Youâre notâŠoverloading yourselves orâor overworking or anything, right?â
âNo. Weâre taking it easy,â Tim promises. âChecking each other. Sasha did a bit much, got a bit close, but she took a long weekend and sheâs fine. And Melanie stopped us from bringing anything home over the weekend. We actually spent it with Charlie. Took him to the zoo, the parade, that sort of thing.â
âThe pâright, right, itâs St. Patrickâs Day weekend. How was it?â
They take turns telling Jon about the weekend. Martinâs already transferred the photos off his phone and onto his laptop to save space, but he promises to show Jon when he gets home. Jon laughs in all the right places.
âIt sounds like you had fun,â he says, and thereâs a definite wistful note to his voice. âIt sounds like Charlie did, too.â
âHe did,â Martin says. âHe kept saying how much he wished you were there, though. He misses you. A lot.â
âI miss him, too.â Jon sighs. âAnd I miss both of you. Badly. I-itâs notâŠthis hasnât been an easy trip. Not just the, the usual issues of travel. Airport food and customs and layovers. Mechanical issues and weather delays and people who donât seem to have grasped the concept of deodorant. Hotels and taxis andâŠall of that is bad enough. Open-ended travel is bad. ButâŠthen thereâs the issue of just being me. Of being the Archivist.â Heâs quiet for a moment. âItâs a lot harder to resist using these abilities when Iâm alone. When I donât have you two there toâcounterbalance me, I suppose. Itâs like Iâm constantly balancing on a tightrope, and I know I have to keep walking the line, I know itâs what Iâm supposed to do, butâŠâ
âBut?â Tim prompts when Jon trails off and doesnât continue.
âThe rope is only a few inches off the ground,â Jon says in a low voice. âOr thatâs what it looks like. When I, when I look to one side or the otherâŠit doesnât look like I have so far to fall. I could so easily step off and be on the ground, and it wouldnât hurt at all. I donât have to balance so carefully. Thereâs a voice just over my shoulder, whispering for me to step off, to save my feet, that thereâs more to life than this narrow back and forthâŠâ
A chill runs up Martinâs spine. He recognizes the description, actually. What theyâre doing, the way theyâre all trying to avoid overusing their abilitiesâŠit does feel a bit like walking a high wire. Martin keeps telling himself not to look down, to take it slow, to put one foot in front of the other, because he knows if he loses his concentration for even a second, heâll fall. In his mind, thereâs a platform at either end of the wire, and Tim stands at one end and Jon stands at the other, so no matter which way he turns, one of them is there, reaching for him, waiting for him when heâs done. Heâs safe as long as he focuses on them.
Somehow, he doesnât think that metaphor will help Jon.
âAre you sure, though?â he asks. âA-aboutâŠthe rope not being so high.â
âNo,â Jon whispers. âIf I look at my feetâŠif I look straight down, I know how deep the chasm goes, so deep I canât see the bottom. Itâs justâitâs so tempting, Martin. I d-donât want to put the burden of my humanity on the two of you. I need to be able to do it on my own. But itâs hard. Itâs so much harder when Iâm alone. And the worst of it is that thereâs a part of me, a tiny voice, telling me that itâs just me, that Iâm alone, that no one will ever know if I give in to temptation, just for a moment. Just to try.â
Tim huffs. âThat tiny voice sounds an awful lot like Elias to me, boss.â
âI know. A-and I know IâdâŠI donât want to let you down.â
Martin canât really explain what those words mean to him, but from the way Tim leans into him, he feels the same way. He swallows around the sudden lump in his throat and tries to sound practical. âWeâll talk about it when youâre home. But itâs okay, Jon. I promise itâs okay. Youâreâyouâre stronger than Elias wants you to be.â
âItâs so much easier to believe these things when you say them.â Jon laughs softly, but thereâs a genuine lightness to itâlike some of the dark dread has lifted from his mind. âItâsâGod, what time is it? Five oâclock? Youâre not still at work, are you?â
âTime difference,â Tim reminds him. âItâs ten here.â
âFor Godâs sake, why didnât you tell me? You both need sleep,â Jon scolds. âYou have work in the morning.â
âFine, but only if you promise to go get food,â Martin retorts. âActual food. Youâve been asleep all day, you probably need it. Get some food and take it easy.â
âAll right. All right. I think thereâs a restaurant attached to the hotel.â Jon takes a deep breath. âIâll call you when Iâm on the bus.â
âYou do that,â Tim says.
âPlease be careful, Jon,â Martin says softly. âWe canât lose you.â
âI promise,â Jon says, his voice solemn. âGet some sleep. Iâll talk to you tomorrow. Love you both.â
He ends the call before Martin can respond, or actually process what Jonâs just said. The stunned look on Timâs face indicates he feels the same. For just a second, Martin lets himself hopeâŠbut no, that canât be. And even if it is, itâs a conversation all three of them need to have, not just him and Tim. They canât make decisions like that without getting Jonâs input.
âCome on,â he says instead, reaching for the charging cable to plug his phone in. âJonâs right, we need sleep.â
âYeah,â Tim says, sounding a bit dazed. âSounds good.â
They crawl under the blankets and turn off the light. Tim rests his head on Martinâs shoulder, and Martin runs a hand through Timâs hair without conscious thought. For a long time, thereâs no sound but their breathing. Martin assumes Tim has fallen asleep, but as relieved as he is to have heard from Jon, his mind is buzzing too hard to actually let him rest.
Suddenly, Tim murmurs, âSheâd seen us before.â
âWho?â Martin is instantly on the alert, wondering who he needs to be worried about, who might be set to hurt them.
âThe woman at the parade. Sheâd seen us before, when we took Charlie to the fireworks. She was asking where Jon was.â Timâs head shifts restlessly. âShe thought Jon was Charlieâs bio-dad andâŠâ
Martin nods slowly. âOne of the zookeepers complimented me on my âlovely family.â IâI think a lot of people justâŠassume we are one.â
âIâm not upset by that.â Timâs voice is drowsy. Itâs like this is the last thing he had to get out to keep him from sleeping.
âNo,â Martin agrees. Thereâs another lump in his throat and he has to swallow around it before finishing. âMe, neither.â
And maybe that is whatâs blocking him from sleeping, because the next thing he knows the alarm is going off and sunlight is poking through the gap in the curtains and Tim is still warm and safe in his arms, and theyâre one day closer to having Jon home.
#ollie writes fanfic#leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall)#tma#the magnus archives#jonmartim
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Whatâs in a Name: 13 - J. Toews
Chapter 13.
Where we left off: Christmas in Chicago where Bekah finds a hidden present in the tree.
Warnings: smut, language
Word Count: 4,102
Series Masterlist ) Puck ân Grindâs masterlist
Bekah had never felt more nervous than she did prepping for the team Christmas party. FaceTiming Brynn while going over details and watching Jon on television.
âBekah, breathe! Sit, letâs chat. The party will be amazing tomorrow. They will all be drinking and they donât care if itâs perfect they just want to hang out together. Plus, maybe lock your bedroom door and change your guest sheets.â Brynn turned on her mothering voice and Bekah stopped and looked at the phone propped up on the counter.
âRin, this is my first big thing with the team, first. I donât want to fuck it up! Also, did you just suggest that? No? Really! Here?â Bekah made a face trying to not think about what Brynn was insinuating as she leans against the counter and her new necklace dangles into view.
âOh, my eyes! My eyes! Itâs so, so bright!â Brynn jokingly yells shielding her eyes from the light bouncing off the diamond.
âFunny, Rin.ââ Bekah rocks the necklace between her fingers remembering when she opened the box a few days prior.
âLetâs talk about that fine piece of jewelry and what you thought it was, shall we?â This made Bekah scoop up the phone and crash on the couch. She didnât answer Brynn. âOk, Iâll start. That box was smallish from the picture you sent so Iâm sure you thought it was something else, am I wrong?â Bekahâs face contorts and starts to speak but words donât form. âYeah, so, Bekah, what if it was a ring? Would you go all Bekah on him or say yes without question because you are madly in love with that man?â
âRin, weâve only been dating since April.â Bekah fiddles with the necklace. Her fingers tracing the platinum script T holding a diamond. She was sure Jon custom made for her but he wouldnât answer her questions about it.
âBekah, friend, love you but...â Bekah inhaled sharply and Brynn laughs. âBut, you two have been together for almost four years. F-O-U-R! Four. Donât give me this undefined horse shit. You are in love with each other. You are so so very good for each other. And when that man does propose in some ridiculously amazing romantic way, you my friend better say yes.â
âYes, there you go baby!â Bekahâs attention went to the overtime game and Jonâs assist to win it.
âI mean that answer would work. Maybe leave out the last part. Just the first word will do.â Brynn laughs out and Bekah joins her.
âI better head to bed. Busy few days.â Bekah yawns.
âOh yes, enjoy watching the Winter Classic at Notre Dame! We wonât talk about how jealous my husband still is.â Brynn whispers.
âSpeaking of, tell him I said hello. Iâll talk to you soon.â With that the friends ended the call and Bekah headed to bed.
The next few days were jam packed with Blackhawks events. The Christmas party went well and then they all headed to South Bend for New Years. Jon and Bekah had team dinner where Jon mispronounced his own last name for the security guard just like Bekah thought it was pronounced back when they met. He was relaxed both Bekah and the team took notice. The two didnât stay late and headed back to their hotel room before midnight. Jon kisses Bekah hard as the clock struck midnight. âIâm so glad I got to ring in 2019 with you, Beks.â He whispered with the sound of the New York City ball drop coverage on the television of their hotel room.
âMe too, Tae. Now we need to sleep. You have a big game tomorrow. I mean today.â Bekah kisses him again.
â2018 might have been the best year yet but I cannot wait to see what 2019 holds for us, you know?â He pulls at her leg to bring it up onto his hip. Jonâs other hand holding her head as their lips crash into one another.
âAgreed, Jon, but you need to sleep.â Bekah whimpers as they break for air.
âWe will but I would like to see if 2019 sex is different.â Jon laughs as he pulls Bekahâs shirt off her body.
âIâm pretty sure itâs the same that it was this morning.â Bekah chirps as she takes his shirt off too.
âWell, letâs find out. Shall we?â His voice was low as he lowered both their bodies to the bed. âI mean we had a whole day of media and skating and itâs a new year.â He hovers over her body kissing down her jaw and sucking at the base of her neck.
âYeah,ââ Bekah breathes out. âIâm just glad I didnât fall on national television thatâs all.â This makes Jon laugh into her skin.
âMe too, Baby. Iâm sure they would have a field day with it too. Someone would mention that you were my girlfriend as you were flat on the ice.â Jon snakes down her body and back up to pull her nipples in between his teeth and fingers. Bekahâs body jolts up at the sensation. Her fingers run through Jonâs hair.
âTae...â Bekah moans out as Jon drops further down her body to rid both of them of the rest of their clothing. His fingers slip through her folds and pump a few times.
âSo ready for me arenât you Baby?â Bekah nods as Jon replaces his fingers with the tip of cock then slides himself into Bekah while moving his body over hers as he bottoms out. She wraps her legs and arms around him pulling their bodies together and with all her might she rolls their bodies over. âOh!â Jonâs voice sounds shocked as his back hits the mattress and Bekah sits up.
âThis okay?â Bekah questions taking in Jonâs look. She runs her hands down his abs and repositions her body before rocking her hips.
âFuck yes, it feels amazing.â Jonâs hips jolt up into Bekah and she grinds herself into him. Each movement elicits sounds of pleasure that escapes from their lips. Jonâs hands move from Bekahâs hips to cup her breasts. Running his thumbs over her peaks causing a jolt to pulsate through her body and she clinches around him. âMerde. Beks. Fuck.â Jon feels himself close. Bekah lowers her body flush with his and kisses him hard. His hands return to her hips and pulls her with the small rolling of his hips. He shutters and releases. Bekahâs body shakes and his arms wrap around her to keep her body attached to his. Both panting trying to catch their breath from that high.
âWell...â Bekah attempts to speak but cannot control her breath.
âAgreed.â Jon huffs out as he rolls their bodies to the side and runs his fingers through Bekahâs hair and down spine.
âSleep. Tae. Sleep.â Bekah whispers as she cuddles up into him.
The experience of the Winter Classic was cold but fun. Brynn blew up her phone when she saw the coverage from family skate. Bekah was loved the look of pure joy on Jonâs face from the picture Brynn sent of the screen. That look was not mirrored in the game itself. The team didnât do well but as Jon told the media, the experience was one heâd never forget. Bekah listened and wondered if he meant playing at the historic stadium or having her with him for the whole event. Maybe he meant both.
Bekah braced herself after the overtime loss to Nashville a few days later. This meant that her birthday might be spent with an uptight Jon focused on game tape and skating late. She instead woke up to the smell of coffee and breakfast in bed. âJoyeux anniversaire mon amour.â Jon leans over and kisses her lips.
âMerci Tae! But why does birthday sound like anniversary?â Bekah questions the French as Jon slides in front of her on the bed.
âIt is the anniversary of your birth, Beks. Speaking of, you make 31 look damn sexy, Baby.â Jon takes the piece of bacon he was eating and waves it like a wand in her direction. âSo beautiful.â Bekah feels the blush coming to her cheeks as she sips on her coffee.
âDonât you have morning skate?â She looks at the clock puzzled.
âI took the day off.â Jon smirks. âI think they will call it a maintenance day. Wanted to spend the whole day with you.â
âWe are celebrating my birthday at home before heading to Miami on break. We discussed this. Brynn is having my parents over and everything.â Bekah kicks her foot at Jon under the breakfast tray.
âWe are. I just wanted to spend the day with you thatâs all. Nothing big. We can lay in bed all day if you want.â His face lights up so his eyes are lost in his smile.
âPromise? No hidden presents? No surprises at dinner? Nothing?â Bekahâs eyebrows narrow.
âDinner with Brandon and Alyssa only as promised.â Jon winks and crosses his heart with his finger.
âI saw that.â Bekah sips her coffee again.
âSwear. Just the four of us. Official birthday celebrations happening only in Ohio. Well, maybe a cake a dinner but thatâs it.â Jon shifts and leans to kiss her lips. His promise held true. Dinner with the Saadâs only was different by the added cake the restaurant placed sparklers in and a small gift from Alyssa.
âYou really didnât need to get me anything.â Bekah looked at the gift bag Alyssa slid across the table.
âNothing big, promise!â Alyssa motioned for Bekah to open it. Inside a tub of candy buckeyes and a kitchen flour sack towel that made Bekah laugh.
âWhatâs it say?â Jon leans over to read. âWeâre a little nuts in this house.â The words flanked by a buckeye with itâs leaf and an outline of Ohio. âHey!â Jonâs fake offend voice makes the table laugh.
âThank you.â Bekah grabs Alyssaâs hand and squeezes.
âSaw it and thought of you. Plus the buckeyes are delicious and that company is from Columbus.â Alyssa smiles as the four resume dinner and discuss plans for break and upcoming home games.
Bekah sat nervously with her Winter Classic hat and new Toews jersey on as the Blackhawks took the ice after a five game losing streak. She knew if the next two games added to the streak that vacation would not be as relaxing as they both needed it to be. Jonâs goal in the first gave them a lead then he scored again in the third. Bekah was on the edge of her seat when she sees the pass to Jon and he redirects the puck into the back of the net. Bekah jumped with everyone in the arena. Hats start flying and she rips her hat off her head and tosses it towards glass. Jon skates by and blows her a kiss before heading back to the bench so the hats can be cleared. After the game, Bekah practically ran into his arms. He picked her up spun her around. âSeven!â She squeals as his lips press to hers.
âIâll have to replace your hat but here, maybe this will make up for it.â Jon places her back on the ground and fishes the puck out of his coat pocket.
âTae, thatâs yours.â She realizes it his hat trick puck.
âI have plenty. This is your first. You called it way back when we met. Remember?â His hand brushes the hair that fell out of her bun she put her hair in after the loss of the hat. Bekah nods. âOne more game then home and vacation.â Jon kisses her and leads her to the car.
Bekah was practically dancing as their plane landed Wednesday evening in Columbus. She was excited to have Jon back in her hometown even if it was only for a few days. Brynn was tasked to plan a small get together Friday evening for Bekahâs birthday but Jon told Bekah he wanted to explore her city just the two of them on Thursday. With everyone working and Jon not having hockey the thought of just meandering around Columbus was exciting.
âI want to go down to the river and walk.â Jon rounds the corner of their hotel room.
âTae, itâs freezing outside! I thought we could do some of the inside things. You know, Art Museum or the Conservatory.â Bekah has a puzzled look plastered on her face.
âCome on, bundle up. We can do all the indoor things you want after lunch.â He kissed her lips and shuffled her towards the luggage.
âMaybe I should just wear my beach wear!â Bekah chuckles while looking over how ridiculous her luggage looked.
âI mean, I would love it but you might get frostbite in some interesting places.â Jon answers while Bekah comes out dressed in layers, her peacoat and knit hat already on.
âMy gloves are missing.â Bekah shoves her hands in her pockets again.
âIâll buy you new ones today and Iâll keep you warm on our walk. Promise!â Jon wraps her up and they head out to the street and towards the river. âThis really is a beautiful area.â Jon breathes in the cold air and looks from the river to the buildings.
âI love it but donât miss it as much as I thought I would.â Bekah snuggles into Jonâs side as he pulls her shoulder into him.
âIâm glad you said that. I never thought Iâd get you to leave honestly. I dropped so many hints.â Jon shifts his weight and clears his throat.
âI remember. Every time you would say anything about Chicago I would doubt how someone like you would want me. I still sometimes donât know how I got so lucky.â Bekah looks up at Jon. âYou okay, Tae?â He stops walking and looks deep into Bekahâs hazel eyes the light hitting just right that the gold flecks dance.
âIâm the lucky one Beks. Something drew me to you in those tunnels like a magnet.â Jon whispers and places his forehead on Bekahâs. âI couldnât stop thinking about you. I had to know more about you. Every time we were together I fell a little more for you. I counted down the weeks and months until the next time we could find our way back to each other.â Jon holds Bekahâs hips and she turns her head to take in his expression.
âMe too, Tae. Whatâs this about? You okay?â She removes her hand from her pocket and runs her thumb over his cheek. Jon places his hand over hers and breaths in deep.
âIâm more than okay. I love you Beks. Iâll love you forever if you let me. Always will. I, uh, I asked your dad a question in Chicago when they were there for Christmas.â Jon moves from their close embrace and drops to one knee. Bekah brings her hand right hand over her mouth since Jon hadnât let go of her left.
âAre you... Tae?â Bekah whispers through her fingers and Jon looks up at her with all the love they share and tears forming.
âRebekah Marie Pierce, will you do me the honor and become my wife?â Jon pulls out a box from his pocket and opens it with his fingers. Bekah gasps. âBeks, will you marry me?â Jon gulps.
âYes.â Bekah nods her head, a happy tear breaks free from her eye as she whispers. Jon jolts to his feet and pulls her body into his, kissing her deeply. He breaks away and takes the ring out of the box.
âMay I?â He smiles down at her and she nods her head. Jon slips the ring on her finger and breathes out a sigh of relief.
âTae, this ring is perfect.â Bekah wiggles her cold fingers taking in the spectacular ring. Round diamond set in a vintage style halo rose gold band.
âI created it just for you.â Jon huffs and Bekah looks up at him.
âWere you holding your breath?â She questions and kisses him tenderly.
âYeah. I know we love each other but that proposal could go one or two ways. You freaking out on me or just saying yes because you know this love we have will last a lifetime.â Bekah giggles at Jonâs admission.
âWell Brynn and I did discuss it and she reminded me that we have been together for awhile even without naming it.â Jon dips down and kisses her. Bekahâs hands come up to cup his face.
âDamn, your hands are cold. Maybe I shouldnât have stolen your gloves.â Jon laughs.
âYou stole my gloves?â Bekah pulls her hands to her lips and blows on them.
âWell I was nervous and didnât want to fumble and lose the ring. Plus you wonât need them after our appointment.â Jon looks at his watch.
âAppointment?â Bekahâs voice raises.
âWe have pedicures and you have a manicure after lunch. Figured there will be some pictures and showing off of the ring at dinner tomorrow.â Jon pulls her hand to his lips and kisses it. âSo where does my fiancĂ©e want to go for lunch? I didnât plan that.â
âFiancĂ©e... whelp. Yup. You are my fiancĂ© arenât ya?â Bekah feels her cheeks flood with heat.
âYes, fiancĂ©e and soon my wife. I think Mrs. Toews might become my favorite name for you... for now.â Jon runs his cold thumb over Bekahâs warm cheek making her shutter. âSo Beks, lunch?â He brushes his lips against hers and starts walking back towards their hotel. Bekah decided on the same tiny cafe she took Jon to in 2015. He of course remembered their conversation about mind blowing sex and coupleâs laugher bounced off the walls once more.
âIâve never had a pedicure with a man.â Bekahâs hand slides into Jonâs as they dip their feet in the water. Jonâs fingers spinning the engagement ring around her finger.
âWe should do it more often back home. I enjoy them and they are good for me feet after being in skates so much.â Jon brings their joined hands up to his lips. âThis ring looks perfect on you.â Jon whispers and Bekah nods. âAre we telling anyone today or waiting until your birthday dinner tomorrow?â
âLetâs wait. Surprise them all.â Bekah giggles. âMaybe FaceTime your parents in? David?â
âThey know already. Mom has been hounding me thinking I was proposing on Christmas then she thought Iâd do it at the Winter Classic but when I told her I wanted to propose where we met she got all excited and told me she cannot wait to have you officially in the family.â
âSo thatâs why she asked me if there was anything new going on at Christmas and I went on and on about the foundation stuff.â Jon laughs.
âIâm assuming she may have thought you didnât want to wear the ring.â He spins it again.
âI donât want to take it off ever!â Bekah smiles as the Jon finishes his pedicure and walks across the street to grab coffees while Bekah moves to her manicure.
âHe looks familiar.â The girl doing her nails says while working.
âOh really?â Bekah smiles sweetly.
âYeah, I cannot place why but something about him. He from here?â She looks up and Bekah tries to hide her amusement.
âNo, Canada actually.â This stops the line of question and Jon reenters to pay and the two head to the car.
âWhere to now Beks?â Jon asks after starting the car.
âHotel is good. Curious...â Bekah bites her lip and Jonâs foot hits the gas making them laugh.
âI thought we were exploring today?â Jon turns toward their hotel.
âTomorrow. We need to celebrate.â Bekah scratches at the back of his neck.
Jon quickly found his way to the hotel and pins Bekah to the side of the car. âYou know, after all this time Iâm still not a posed to taking you right here. Itâs no longer your home or where you work.â Jon bites at Bekahâs ear.
âOr you can take me upstairs and not get out of bed until noon tomorrow?â Bekah nibbles at his lips. Jon stands and interlaces his fingers in Bekahâs. They make their way into the lobby and here Jonâs name. Some guy in a White Sox hat nods and Bekah shoves her left hand in her pocket. After stopping for a picture the couple was off again. Jon barely had the door latched before his lips were pressed against Bekahâs and her back against the wall. His hands reach down to cup her ass the lift her up. Bekahâs arms wrapped tightly around his neck. They wasted no time disrobing. Jon hovering over Bekah with his hardened cock. Bekah lifts her hips to rub the tip on her click. She exhaled with the sensation then Jon pressed in. His rhythm intentional hitting every spot he knows would elicit filthy sounds from Bekahâs mouth.
âCome on Beks. Iâm there. Come with me.â Jon lifts his body from herâs to change the angle. Bekah slides her finger between their bodies and rubs her clit. âFuck thatâs hot.â Jon presses hard into Bekah sending their orgasms crashing over them. âFuck. Damn. Fuck.â Jon grunts out as Bekah moves her hand before he crashes into her. Rolling off his hand reaches right in the center of his v line.
âWhat are you doing?â Bekah questions with a deep breath.
âChecking for blood. Iâm good!â Bekah props up and looks to where Jonâs hand was. Fresh scratches had turned his skin pink.
âFuck. Tae. Did I do that? Iâm sorry.â Her fingers tenderly touch the scratches.
âTechnically self inflicted since I gave you the ring. Learning curve. Plus youâve seen some of my injuries. A little scratch is nothing.â Jon pulls her body on top of his and kisses her sweetly. âRound two in a minute there future Mrs. Toews?â
âRebekah Toews. That doesnât sound horrible.â Bekah starts to laugh and Jon catches her lips.
âSounds fucking amazing.â He kisses her again. âIâm so glad you said yes.â Jon kisses her again and roll their bodies for more.
The sun woke both Jon and Bekah up the next morning. The evening of celebrating evident on their tired faces. How about we have breakfast, go do something then nap before dinner?â Jon whispers into his fiancĂ©eâs hair.
âSounds amazing Babe.â Bekah starts to move and Jon pulls her back into his chest.
âI know I keep saying it but Iâm so glad you said yes.â Jon kisses her temple.
âI really worried you didnât I?â Bekah looks up at him and he nods. âWell Iâm sorry. I never want you to question that I love you.â Bekahâs heart bings.
âThatâs not it, Beks, I know you love me but nine months together and four years is a big difference.â
âI know and I freaked out for most of those four years and looking back I wonder what would have happened if I just let it happen.â Bekah whispers.
âI wonder all the time what would have happened if I met you back in Chicago in my rookie year.â Jon admits.
âI would have never met Rin.â Bekah realizes and Jon opens his mouth then closes it. âSpeaking of, we need to get going to do something touristy before dinner.â Bekah pulls Jonâs tired body out of bed and to the shower. The two made their way around Columbus. Jon decided he wanted to see things she loved growing up. Bekah took him by her schools, the playground a boy kissed her on when they were five, her grandparentsâ house she spent every Christmas at until he passed and Grandma moved. Jon pictured Bekah in every step. Every piece that made her, her. Before they knew it they were sitting in front of Derek and Brynnâs house. Bekahâs parents car sitting in the drive way. The two looked at each other.
âReady?â Jon asked.
âReady!â Bekah answered popping out of the car and into his embrace. The couple walked through the door and Brynn was the first to catch the ring on Bekahâs finger.
âIs that.... eeeeeeekkkkkkk?!?!â Brynn squeals with delight and rushes her best friend. Jon nods at Jim and Marie comes over to gush over the ring.
âSo whenâs the wedding?â Bekah hears her Grandmotherâs voice from the couch.
âWe havenât...â Bekah starts.
âI was hoping this summer.â Jon matter of factly states and looks over at Bekahâs stunned face.
âOh that soon. Would there be a reason?â Bekahâs grandmother questions and all heads snap in her direction then at Bekahâs. She feels the heat rising in her cheeks and her mouth goes dry.
#whatâs in a name fic#wian#jonathan toews fic#tazer me 19#love a damn blackhawk đ€Šđ»ââïž#happens in the 2018 2019 season#j toews fic#jonathan toews
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!!!! Piper finding out she's pregnant with Kyle's baby!!!!
okay no but see iâve been thinking about an au where like we go like balls to the fall canon with piper and kyle still a slowburn obvi but. season six still remains pretty much intact expect for the fact that, while chris knows heâs piperâs son, he has no idea who his father is bc, in the dark future variant of the piper/kyle timeline kyle would definitely end up sacrificing himself to save piper fully not knowing that she was pregnant (odds are she didnât even know) which would probably be a breaking point for piper okay letâs go into detail.
chris (khris? lmao? wait should i remain him after kyleâs dad? jon hamm? jack. shure weâll call him jack to differentiate even tho u gotta admit. kyle!chris would basically be the same as canon!chris bc like. look at him. like he is very much Not like leo. but like. could ever easily be kyleâs son. but, to differentiate, hereâs jack halliwell, the bastard of the charmed line.) bc wyatt is the son of a piper halliwell and leo wyatt this is a known fact especially because leo remains one of the last pillars of the elders in said dark future and everyone begs him to do some grand act to stop wyatt but he never does thatâs his son that is his son he canât he cannot kill him he still believes thereâs some good in wyatt there has to be some good in wyatt weâll say jack even had an opportunity to kill wyatt after killed piper and leo intervened and saved wyattâs life which is why, if chris hates leo, itâs nothing compared to jackâs beef. and like. quite frankly. okay here me out this timeline is about to get real weird. leo becomes and elder at the end of s5, jackâs doing as he steps into his place as the charmed ones whitelighter, seeing as heâs still a witchlighter. kyle takes the place of sheridan in the sense that he enters the narrative in s6. jack, for the record, has no idea this is his father. kyle works kinda parallel to the story, jack is trying to find out exactly whatâs going on with wyatt becoming evil to no avail, kyleâs like idk doing something they have interacted a couple times they donât like each other. we push forward the avatars narrative, giving gideon pause. evil wyatt isnât possible in utopia, the avatars would neutralize him before he became a threat. gideon actively advocates for the avatars. kyle becomes more integrated as the avatars become more relevant, jack continues his digging on the wyatt situation, somehow finds out that gideon was the one who turned wyatt evil by attempting to murder him, which immediately brings into question the avatars, since gideon is such a big fan of theirs. does a bit more digging, finds out that utopia comes at the cost of free will, anyone who isnât perfect is eliminated. heâs about to blow the cover on the whole thing when either gideon or the avatars kill him. piper is devastated bc like weâll say she still knew that was her son. like heâs been there a while phoebeâs a psychic and at some point heâs kinda gotta fess up as to how and why he knows so much about the family. and his death has been pinned on somebody else in a play to get piperâs support behind the avatars. kyle becomes more integral here as, up until this point, heâs assisted on a couple cases (i.e. a styx feet under situation, but his main focus has always been the avatars) but piperâs like listen they just killed my son i need everything in my arsenal to get revenge and i mean if thereâs one language he speaks itâs revenge. kyle and piper together are actually amazing at deciphering jackâs notes because it like walks immediately down the middle road of how their brains works which for the record they literally never piece together the part where jackâs their son, but, in all fairness, jack didnât know that either. issue being jack had multiple theories so there are a lot of one off demon adventures to further strengthen their bond and like. piper still doesnât fully trust kyle. also jack was her son, so thereâs a personal element here too, but the main reason piper has the most interaction with kyle is because sheâs protecting her sisters from him because she still does not trust him for shit, and she wants to keep him distant from her family which is undeniably her vulnerabile spot. and like, kyle is 100% aware sheâs doing this, but he doesnât really care because, again, his primary motivation is stopping the avatars. everything he does is just to get him closer to that goal. he just has to get piper to trust him because heâs feeling like the power of three is crucial to that goal. catch-22 tho, because it is the feeling that he needs the power of three that makes piper so untrusting of him. the jack cases are their bonding era where they start to steer away from their previous mindsets. we see kyle do something entirely selfless, without ulterior motive. we knows he did this, piper does not. blah blah blah, they get to the meat of the matter with jackâs notes and find out the whole avatars/gideon thing just in time to stop utopia, kyle dies in the process. as he saved the world, they make him a whitelighter, and, as an act of good faith because after learning gideonâs plans for evil wyatt, piper is very very against the elder, and then also because the charmed ones have been without whitelighter since jack, they assign kyle as their new whitelighter. blah blah blah something something something again. slowburn. this time added, because piper has done the forbidden love thing once before and sheâs not gonna do it again. and kyleâs like thatâs my coworker. whatever respect i have for piper is professional. and paige and phoebe are also there like. like piper and kyle are drift compatible (in a sense, piper hates his moral compass and yells at him a lot, but they understand how the other thinks) phoebe thinks kyle is weird and paige thinks kyle has a major stick up his ass (which he does!!) also. fuck it. kyle keeps his job at the fbi like how are they gonna know he died. and sinces heâs a newly minted whitelighter itâs not like heâs got other charges. itâs just the charmed ones and then working at his job. so blah blah blah piper will bring cases to him he will bring cases to piper so on and so forth again. slowburn. heâs literally their whitelighter piperâs still like. donât trust him. sometimes kyle says this is how you should do that and piper chews him out because like. fuck you!! and then maybe ends up doing it that way anyways which kyle will be really smug about heâll never bring it up in conversation but again piper and kyleâs communication is unspoken so she knows when heâs invoking it and he knows that she knows. and phoebe and paige both have two insanely different views to their relationship piper and kyle are talking strategy while paige scrys (scries?) and piperâs brewing potion and her and kyle are like. theyâre in disagreement meaning itâs a lot of silence a long of prolonged, bitter stares, stubbornness, speaking in low and controlled voices in an attempt to sound like the more rational one when itâs very obvious both of them wanna be yelling their points but theyâre not itâs all in a very low register it ends with kyle yielding grabbing the final potion ingredient getting unnecessarily close to piper and saying i guess you know best dropping the ingredient in and orbing out in the puff of smoke from the potion and piper just keeping her gaze level even after heâs gone with just steel in her eyes like youâre goddamn right i do like the energy doesnât dissipate sheâs still buzzing from it and paige just over in the corner of the attic like ...............................so um. have you guys fucked about it yet? and piperâs like have we what (yes.) and paige is like yeah thereâs a lot of unresolved tension there itâs getting pretty weird to be in a room with the two of you so you should probably um. fuck about it. Versus. piper phoebe and kyle being all out on some excursion kinda akin to the things w the guardian angels where thereâs press everywhere and theyâve saved the day and are trying to get the hell out of dodge and there are press cameras and kyle sees them first and immediately positions himself in between them and piper piper notices the cameras and tenses up kyle puts his hand on piperâs lower back to steer the two of them out of the maze of a media frenzy and phoebeâs like Oh. you two are In Love in love. which piper is absolutely against like absolutely not no and phoebeâs like oh come on you told him about your fear of the press after the prue thing i can tell the way he moved to get you out of that situation and piperâs like iâve literally never told him that and phoebe like okay well. he knows regardless, which actually speaks volumes more than if you had told him. so congrats!! and piperâs like no. absolutely not. paige and phoebe compared notes after they find out they have bold made bold statements about piper and kyle and then realize that not only have they definitely slept together they are also definitely in love and Do Not Realize It
#another insanely funny thing to consider about piper and kyle Specifically a piper/kyle kid#is like au where all of the next gen meet each other they're like#okay phoebe/cole's kid yeah that tracks prue/andy aww</3 prue/jack that's a weird one i guess but like. sure? who's that.#and jack's like hi my name's jack peter halliwell i'm the son of piper halliwell and kyle brody#and piper's eyeballs explode out of her head and paige pisses herself laughing phoebe damn near has an aneurysm#none of them can like. make eye contact with jack because what the fuck. a piper/kyle kid what the fuck!!!??!? WHAT THE FUCK!!?!??!?!?!?#bonus round of jack realizing in this world his dad dated paige he's like what ew no what the fuck how that's so weird that's so wrong#(& he's right lmao piper/kyle supremacy then phoebe/kyle dead last paige/kyle these r the facts)#charmed#piper x kyle#piper halliwell#kyle brody#jack halliwell
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Why do think Jon can't or won't have any romances if he died and is resurrected? Like uh... erh you think he physically won't be able to uh get it up again so he'll never have a sexual relationship again or do u mean that you think he won't be able to emotionally form romantic attachments or...? I deff think Jon is going to be darker after and all that but i think him inhabiting Ghost might result in him being slighty different than Beric and Stoneheart. Idk what is ur speculation on it? Thanks!
I agree that if Jon is dead, his experience will be slightly different from Beric and Stoneheart since his consciousness has probably already transferred into ghost. But even there, the mind of the human starts to fade. Thatâs the beauty of GRRMâs work. There are always consequences, even with magic involved. Or especially when magic is involved. We donât know how long he will remain in Ghost or what shape his body will be in when he returns to it. So while Jon might not lose as much of his personality as his predecessors, he will still be a fire wight. Though, tbh, with Jon being the third fire wight, it doesnât seem like GRRMâs style to have him be in better shape than the other two. If anything, just as Stoneheart is worse than Beric, it seems like Jon would be even worse. Here are GRRMâs words on this element of his series:
GRRM: âPart of it was also, itâs the dialogue that I was talking about. And here Iâve got to get back to Tolkien again. And Iâm going to seem like Iâm criticizing him, which I guess I am. Itâs always bothered me that Gandalf comes back from the dead. The Red Wedding for me in Lord of the Rings is the mines of Moria, and when Gandalf falls â itâs a devastating moment! I didnât see it coming at 13 years old, it just totally took me by surprise. Gandalf canât die! Heâs the guy that knows all of the things that are happening! Heâs one of the main heroes here! Oh god, what are they going to do without Gandalf? Now itâs just the hobbits?! And Boromir, and Aragorn? Well, maybe Aragorn will do, but itâs just a huge moment. A huge emotional investment.
And then in the next book, he shows up again, and it was six months between the American publications of those books, which seemed like a million years to me. So all that time I thought Gandalf was dead, and now heâs back and now heâs Gandalf the White. And, ehh, heâs more or less the same as always, except heâs more powerful. It always felt a little bit like a cheat to me. And as I got older and considered it more, it also seemed to me that death doesnât make you more powerful. Thatâs, in some ways, me talking to Tolkien in the dialogue, saying, âYeah, if someone comes back from being dead, especially if they suffer a violent, traumatic death, theyâre not going to come back as nice as ever.â Thatâs what I was trying to do, and am still trying to do, with the Lady Stoneheart character.â
Interviewer: âAnd Jon Snow, too, is drained by the experience of coming back from the dead on the show.â
GRRM: âRight. And poor Beric Dondarrion, who was set up as the foreshadowing of all this, every time heâs a little less Beric. His memories are fading, heâs got all these scars, heâs becoming more and more physically hideous, because heâs not a living human being anymore. His heart isnât beating, his blood isnât flowing in his veins, heâs a wight, but a wight animated by fire instead of by ice, now weâre getting back to the whole fire and ice thing.â -- Time
So based on GRRMâs words, we can rule out Jon having an experience anything close to show!Jon where his death was only a benefit. He essentially used it as a âGet out of the Nightâs Watch Freeâ card, even though that line of reasoning makes no sense. Him dying and being reanimated as a zombie would not result in him being physically and mentally the same, nor would it lead to everyone being fine with what he is. He would either be killed as a deserter or burned as a wight.
So as for Jon not having a chance for romance in my opinion, I would rule it out both emotionally and physically.Â
As an animated corpse who has lost a degree of consciousness, I have my doubts about him being able to form new meaningful relationships. Beric and Catelyn have become hyper focused on the last goals they had before dying. Since Bericâs goal didnât include his fiance, he barely remembers that he has a fiance, let alone anything about her. Nor does he remember where his home is. All he is about is carrying out his last orders which were to enforce justice on the Mountain and stop the Lannisterâs terrorist acts on the common people of the Riverlands. So thatâs it for him. Catelyn seems to be in a similar situation where her last act was to kill a Frey while also thinking of her lost children. So she is looking for Arya while murdering every Frey she can find and extending that vengeance to Jaime since Roose delivered his regards as he stabbed Robb. Stoneheart has lost a great deal of who she was to the point that she canât hear reason, not even with Brienne.Â
Jonâs situation has to be similar. His dying thoughts were of Arya and planning to meet Ramsay Bolton in battle. It stands to reason that his diminished mind would center on that, unless his time in Ghost allows him to focus on something or someone else.Â
As far as physically goes, based on Beric and Stoneheart, Jonâs heart wouldnât be beating so no blood flow would be going through his body, he wouldnât need food since his digestive system wouldnât be working, and he wouldnât even need to sleep. Essentially, he is not alive and has no normal bodily functions. Unless he dies with a permanent terminal erection, a part of physical intimacy is out. He could probably still give oral if heâs able to keep hydrated for that purpose. Sorry, TMI. In short, in my opinion, if Jon is dead emotional and physical romance are out. But JMO.
Thatâs one of the reasons Iâm still open to the possibility that Jon isnât dead. Before the show killed and resurrected the show version as Gandolf the White 2.0, his status was up for debate. There were many who steadfastly believed he was alive. GRRM even said in an interview that whether Jon was dead or alive was up for debate until the next installment. Since he essentially brushed off the interviewerâs attempt in the quote above to redirect the discussion to undead!Jon and went on to discuss Beric, that suggests that canon Jonâs status is still undetermined. And there are a lot more possibilities for him if heâs alive.Â
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