#ones…. maybe I should pull for this event it certainly lives in my head rent free. but alas. wxs WLE. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jungkxook · 4 years ago

Text

—out of the blue. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ genre: youtuber/gamer!jungkook + fluff / smut

⟶ words: 5,204

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: catching your boyfriend bleaching and dyeing his hair for a livestream is definitely not what you expected — but it certainly has its perks.

⟶ warnings: established relationship, some attempt at humour, .2 seconds of sort of sub jungkook (you just like seeing him on his knees), you call jungkook a good boy, shower sex, hair pulling, oral sex, face riding, standing sex, breast play, cum eating, doggy style, unprotected sex, creampie

⟶ note: because blue haired jungkook has me feeling all sorts of things. also dedicating this to the lovely ryen @kithtaehyung because blue haired jungkook is getting her too and i hope this helps!! and thank you to the wonderful @gamerkooks and @stanrandomthings for always giving me inspiration for gamer jungkook <3

“What the hell are you doing?”

Jungkook has less than a second to react when he hears you bursting through the door of his bedroom, a guilty expression plastered on his face as if you’ve caught him in the midst of a much worse act than what he’s already currently doing ━ but the flustered scowl deepening your countenance is enough for him to certainly feel that way, because how else is he supposed to casually explain why he’s currently sitting shirtless in front of a camera?

Admittedly, the sight is odd enough, and there’s a split moment where your incredulous look is enough to make him feel as if he’s wronged you, and your six month long relationship with him, entirely before he remembers that he didn’t actually do anything wrong like cheat on you, but is actually just trying to dye his hair.

He’s sat in his gaming chair, camera and lights set up around him, and the monitor of his desktop all recording his face to the hundreds of thousands of viewers currently watching his livestream. He had told you well in advance about his aim to do a twenty-four hour live broadcast for his subscribers to both raise money for a donation and to countdown to his next subscriber milestone with the help of his friends ━ and had even asked you to help him plan the event, discussing it animatedly with you for the past month on various occasions ━ but mainly just because Jungkook is crazy enough to sit through a twenty-four hour stream and call it fun.

You had known most of how the entirety of the day would go. Starting from noon the previous day to now, almost an hour before the stream ends, thus far he’s done various gameplays from Minecraft to Overwatch to Among Us simultaneously with his friends who had offered to marathon with him the twenty-four hour event; had a period of time in which Jimin and Taehyung were over and cramped in his room to answer questions and talk to viewers but mostly just to create absolute chaos. You had been there for most of it, though you’re still trying to figure out if it’s a blessing or a curse that you were suckered into paying rent for your three bedroom apartment by Taehyung more than a year ago, and subsequently falling madly in love with Jungkook and forcing you to aid in his antics. You’ve been in a handful of his videos before, appearing in Twitch and YouTube streams, and in the background of vlogs in his channel and the channels belonging to the other boys; and, on that day for Jungkook’s twenty-four hour event, you had joined him at the start before being dragged away for work and then tried to pull an all-nighter with him until you crashed on the couch in the living room, and checking in on him occasionally to give him food and water and to just generally make sure your boyfriend isn’t dead.

Now, with the remaining final hour dwindling down, you had been in your room trying to finish last minute essay writing for school, with your phone propped up on your desk and Jungkook’s livestream playing as background noise to your studying. One minute, he had been playing a round of Among Us, and the next, when you had glanced up, he had the bottle in hand and the detrimental blue dye coating his hair in slick globs. It wouldn’t have been so shocking, had you not seen Jungkook an hour ago when he had his natural dark hair still, and now he had somehow managed to sneak in bleaching his hair in the time you had left him. Maybe it was your fault for not catching it sooner, if only because you had sheepishly taken a small nap amidst your studying only to wake up to a nightmare.

Which is where that leaves you currently, dishevelled demeanour standing at the threshold of his door after chasing over to his room, watching as Taehyung helps Jungkook sufficiently ruin his beautiful hair which you love so much.

“Uh… Dyeing my hair?” Jungkook finally answers, dumbfounded. He’s fortunate he had pulled off his shirt to avoid getting hair dye on it, an old towel now draped around his shoulders to catch any excess mess. He adds brightly, “We asked for suggestions on how to end the stream and someone said I should dye my hair, so Tae got the stuff.”

“You bleached your own hair?” You retort, exasperated. “When the hell did all this happen? I’ve been next door to you the whole time! What if your hair falls out? You should’ve gotten a professional to do it, not Tae━”

Taehyung looks inexplicably offended by your slandering remarks on his (lack of) hair styling skills, retorting with, “Yo, what the━?”

Jungkook blinks, as if just being made aware of what he’s actually doing.

“My hair’s gonna fall out?” he gaps. “Guys, what the hell? Why’d no one tell me?”

He looks from you to Taehyung then over at the comments on his livestream which are currently flooding with the sole topic of you. His eyes snag the first few that appear to him in the frenzied influx of words:

uh oh jungkook’s sleeping on the floor tonight

oh shit run bro

f in the chat for jk’s hair

get him y/n!!!!

“Dude, she’s just being dramatic,” Taehyung waves you off. He ducks out of the way when you reach out to Jungkook’s bed for a pillow and chuck it at the older boy’s head.

“And when he’s bald, then what━”

“No!” A helpless Jungkook exclaims suddenly. He gestures wildly to the stream, “Don’t give them ideas. The edits are gonna start pouring in.”

“Jeon, look, it’s too late to go back now,” Taehyung says. “You’ve got half your head covered in dye and three minutes to go with the stream. How bad can it be?”

A groveling sigh eclipses your lips as you push yourself forward. “Then at least let me help before you ruin it completely.”

Jungkook’s fortunate, to say the least, though he’s left wondering if you’re truly upset with him.

He finishes the countdown to the end of his twenty-four hour stream with you and Taehyung putting the last remaining globs of dye on his hair, a heartfelt goodbye to his viewers who marathoned the stream with him, and a promise to update them on the status of his hair when he washes the dye out.

And, just as soon as he’s shut his camera off, the mundane world returns to him.

It’s no longer millions of anonymous and faceless viewers watching him from the other side of their screens in the tiny bubble that is his room, but just you and Taehyung and the older boy’s frisky little Pomeranian dog and the threat of a wallowing regret as Jungkook thinks to himself, what the hell did he truly just do to his hair?

At some point, Taehyung retreats to his girlfriend’s house taking Yeontan with him, leaving you alone with Jungkook and he basks in the sudden cozy quiet after twenty-four hours of madness as the adrenaline rush begins to fade and mellow out. Back aching, joints cracking and popping as he stretches and moves, and eyes burning in the similar way they do from having stared at a screen for too long, but tenfold, he craves nothing more than to find your sweet and comforting touch to end such a long day.

He finds you in the living room already scrolling through your phone and your Twitter feed to read and marvel at all the comments and memes made by his viewers during his stream and his heart threatens to burst through his chest because you’ve always been so supportive of him and his fans, and they’ve always adored you and your endless interactions with them. So, surely, you can’t be mad at him for bleaching and dyeing his hair. Right?

As his arms come to wrap around you from behind, face nuzzling in the crook of your neck, he hears you bemoan, “You look like a Smurf came on your head.”

Wrong.

Well, not entirely, he guesses. You do lean into his chest, practically melting against him. A sluggish grin tugs at his lips and, instead, he chooses to ask, “Shower with me?”

“Aren’t you tired, Koo?”

“Baby,” he deadpans, and your heart flutters just a little bit, “by this point, I’m running solely on Red Bull and coffee that I’m positive I could fight the gods with my bare hands and win. In fact, I’ve had so much caffeine that I’m fairly certain I’ve ascended to the astral plane. Besides, I need to wash this dye out, and I could use some help. Sleep can wait.”

“Help,” You snort. “You’re such a liar. I already know what you want.”

“To spend time with my beautiful girlfriend? You’re right.”

“I’m not sucking your dick.”

He pulls his head back to look at you. Though he tries to look offended, there’s the tiniest of smirks on his face. “Wasn’t gonna ask you!”

You turn to properly face him in his arms and shoot him a dubious glance. He leans down to press a chilling kiss to your jaw, then nudges his nose against you in the same spot so that you’ll move your head. You do so, despite your prior scolding, and let him kiss the underside of your jaw down to your neck.

“Okay, fine,” You huff finally.

You relent, miraculously, but Jungkook had already guessed you would the moment he had found you in the living room and he couldn’t be happier.

He cherishes the moments alone with you, has come to know them well as he falls into a comfortable routine with you away from prying eyes over the last few months. Because sometimes, as he comes to learn, it’s hard to establish a relationship when his job requires him to be in the spotlight often. What is authentic and what is simply fabricated for views is difficult to discern, and yet you’re patient with him. Not everything to him is money and views and numbers, or what his next big plan is, or how you could potentially help him in some way (despite knowing that any video featuring you seems to skyrocket his views and land his videos on the trending page of YouTube more often than not because he knows everyone loves you more than him). You know when he’s his online persona and when he’s simply just Jungkook, and while there’s hardly any difference between the two, his online personality surely has to maintain a level of privacy and happiness that may not always be true.

At least with you, he can just be himself. He can finally be at ease.

Showering together is just one of the many acts of normalcy he cherishes with you. So, he turns on the shower and lets the bathroom get all warm and balmy as you undress. He’s the first one inside, hissing in delight as he lets the water run over his sore muscles, washing out the dye in his hair firstly so as not to get it on you and fortunately not making too much of a mess of blue dye in the tub. You’ve joined him in an instant when he’s nearly done, squeezing into the space in front of him as you shut the glass door behind you, the pane already beginning to fog and slick with droplets of condensation. He pulls you into him once more, nestling his chin on your shoulder as his hands come to wrap around you. They slide across your front, all wet and soapy, briefly gliding across your breasts, palms brushing against your nipples before traveling down to your navel.

“Congrats, baby,” You coo gently. “Twenty-four hours.”

He murmurs into your hair, “Missed you loads though.”

You turn to look at him finally, and it’s hard not to stare. Your eyes land firstly on his abdomen and the toned muscles there, trailing up to his arm and the pretty tattoos that decorate every inch of his skin, to his soft pink lips and his big eyes. Then, there’s the matter of his hair. The water has done most of the work in washing out the dye from his hair, now falling across his forehead and into his eyes and cheekbones, and it’s only then that you fully register the dye has worked as you struggle to find any remnants of his once-ebony-then-blonde locks. The blue hair is an obvious stark contrast to his natural hair and, you think, it is pretty, accentuating his radiant skin and making his eyes pop.

“I didn’t think you were actually serious all those times you said you wanted to change your hair.” Your lips are pursed as you survey him now, your fingers twirling a strand of his tresses around and around as you inspect it.

He smiles, catching your hand and pressing a quick peck to your knuckles. “Neither did I,” he admits sheepishly. “It sort of just happened.”

You pout. “I’m gonna miss your natural hair.”

“Do you really hate it blue?”

“I don’t hate it. Was more scared you’d ruin your pretty hair and make it all fall out.”

At this, Jungkook flashes you a cheeky smile. He holds his head a little higher. “So you still think my hair is pretty?”

“I think you’re a dork,” You clarify. “And, aside from the fact you almost gave me a heart attack, I’d say the blue is so pretty. Beyond pretty. Kinda hot, if I’m being honest.”

Because you’re not really mad, but it’s fun just to tease Jungkook and see his reactions. At the very least, he can sense this, as it’s apparent with the way his smile stretches even wider on his face.

“Hot, huh?”

“Mhm. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

He feigns a look of mock hurt. “Oh no. You must be really mad. Want me to make it up to you?”

“How are you gonna do that?”

“Well, what do you want from me?”

You take a moment to think it over, but the answer is already obvious enough. It’s one that even he knows, and one that has won you over the moment Jungkook was freed from his stream. You hum aloud, “You, on your knees, head between my legs, like a good boy. Think I can get a better viewpoint of your hair from down there anyway before I judge it.”

“Like a good boy?” A dark smirk tugs at his face. “So now who’s the needy one?”

He lowers his head so that he’s leaving a trail of sloppy wet kisses down your neck to your collarbones. As you let yourself get carried away for a moment, you wrap your arm around his neck, pulling him backwards until you’re pressed up against the glass door. He ducks even lower, kissing just above your left breast and then catching your nipple between his teeth. You swallow thickly, rubbing your thighs together, reminding yourself to respond to him.

“It’s not my fault when you were busy for the past day,” You pout. “And the blue hair really is sexy.”

“Aha!” he straightens up in front of you suddenly, a crooked smug smile on his face. “So I’m not just hot. I’m sexy.”

“You’re literally always sexy. And beautiful too. It’s almost unfair.”

“That’s even better.”

You tug your fingers at his damp locks. When you speak, your voice is a mix between urgency and a whine. “Jungkook. I could’ve already gotten off with my hand at this point.”

“Ouch, feisty!” He pokes his fingers at your sides. Then, nipping a little more firmly on the soft skin of your breast, murmurs huskily, “Alright, alright. But only if you call me a good boy again.”

Part of him is taunting you, but there’s a small sliver of intrigue that makes the thought in his head and the pretty words on your tongue excite him to no end.

Still, you choose to entertain him, maybe a little drowsily and entirely consumed by him, “I will if you let me ride your face.”

A rumble of a chuckle resonates from him. You find him on his knees in the next moment, wedging himself between your thighs. He nudges one of your legs and you follow the wordless command, hitching one thigh over his shoulder as you settle back against the glass door of the shower. He kisses at your hips as he dips his head lower and lower to where you want him, before swiping his tongue at your cunt, tasting all of you at once.

“Mmm, Koo━” A soft whimper sounds from you, making his head swim.

He wastes no time in lapping at your folds, tongue delving into you deeper and deeper as he cranes his neck. The wetness that pools between your legs and on the tip of his tongue is a sticky mess that he basks in just a little longer.

“Fuck,” he groans into your pussy, “you taste so fucking good. Missed this so much.”

His hands are big as they come to hold you close, cradling your ass, your thighs, your hips, anything to pull you into him while simultaneously pushing your thighs further apart.

You manage to find your voice and quip weakly, “Missed me or having your head between my legs?”

“You, definitely,” he murmurs. He busies himself by reaching out with his thumb to press circles against your clit. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, hips rutting into his face. “All of you.”

“Jungkook━ Fuck━”

He burrows further into you, humming in response. His nose brushes against your clit, the muscle of his tongue a pleasant wet that makes you warm all over. You give another experimental swivel of your hips, grinding against his tongue just right. He pinches at your hips as if to probe you onward, and then you do it again, and again, desperately rocking your hips back and forth against him. Your fingers reach out to grab a fistful of his hair, clutching it so tightly he hisses. But you’re right. The blue locks look dazzling between your legs, being pulled by your hands as you push him further into you.

His eyes meet yours from below your waist, hooded and idle, enjoying the view as you squirm and writhe above him, shamelessly riding his face. Grinding against his chin, nose, and tongue, the slick wetness you leave behind glistens on his skin.

“Ah, Koo━” You cry out. “Fuck, I’m gonna━!”

Your orgasm hits you violently, sending you keeling. Your hips continue with reckless abandon, and Jungkook presses his finger against your clit a little harder, a little faster. The abrupt gushing warmth between your thighs sends your mind spinning, as the steam from the shower and your panting breaths begin to fog the bathroom. When your hips begin to slow, Jungkook laps at the rest of your leaking core before pulling away with a grin brandishing his shimmering face. He lets you pull him up eagerly, clumsy hands fumbling to hold either side of his face as you tug at him.

“God, you’re so hot, babe,” he sighs wistfully, smothering your lips with his for an all too chaste kiss, before leaning in once more to nibble at your lower lip.

“Wanna feel you, Koo,” You prompt urgently. “Want you in me.”

Jungkook hastens to comply, his hands falling to your waist. “Go on, then. Turn around for me.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You spin so that you’re facing the glass sliding door, your back to him. You watch him over your shoulder, momentarily admiring his well built stature, the tattoos that ink his body, and the water that shimmers on his skin. He has to push his wet hair up and away when it falls across his forehead and then he reaches down to grasp at his length, grip tight around his shaft so that he can pump himself sluggishly a few short times. It’s almost painful to watch him jerk himself off in front of you, the tip a burning red and glistening. He catches you staring and decides to catch you off guard when he grabs a hold of your hips with one hand. He yanks you towards him, your ass pressed firmly against his hips, making you jump from the startle, and grins when you look back at him.

Then, ever so slowly, he runs the length of his cock along your folds. Before you can brace yourself for the overwhelming rush of pleasure, he’s sliding his cock past your folds, burrowing into you deep. He curses behind you, his other hand flying out to steady himself by digging into your hip.

“Fffuck. Shit.” He dips his head so that his cheek is resting against your shoulder and sputters for air. “Jesus, fuck━ Been dying to feel you all day.”

He fits so snugly in you, so perfectly, just like always and you take him so well, coaxed by your own arousal. He ruts his hips forward into yours and you nearly fall forward before catching yourself by pressing your palms to the glass. Then, he’s grinding against you, small and precise thrusts that roll into your hips.

“Mmm, Jungkook,” you choke out. “You feel so━ So good.”

“Ah, shit,” he hisses. “Wanna wreck you so bad.”

He angles his chest a little more, pummels his dick into you in such a way that he’s hitting a different spot in you. His eyes stay fixated on the soft, round flesh of your ass and the way his cock slips so easily into you, brows screwed in concentration, jaw clenched. The slight bounce of your ass each time he rolls his hips firmly against you, the way you ricochet forward each time in tandem with his moves. You bow your head, pressing your temple against the glass door now tinted with condensation, only marked up by the imprints of your fingers grasping at anything. It’s almost sweltering hot in the shower now but you both pay no mind to it. He fucks into you with such languid, steady strides, cock beginning to throb and twitch in anticipation. You feel so wet, such a pitiless mess between your thighs already that it makes him growl.

“H-Harder,” You mewl. “Oh, Koo━”

He almost slips behind you in his eagerness to obey, awakening something animalistic in him, a yearning to just release all the tension in his core. This time, he adapts a measured pace, forceful thrusts that have you crying out in delight each time. One hand reaches up to grip at your shoulder to steady himself while his other slithers around your front to grasp at your breasts, all wet and supple, pinching at your nipples.

“So good,” he moans, pressing sloppy kisses just below your ear. His breath is hot as he pants behind you, sending tingles down your spine. “Fuck━”

His voice is cut off by a whine, hips bucking forward in an unsolicited manner as he feels his high drawing near. You lean your head onto his shoulder, stretching your arm out so that you can tug desperately at his hair. It’s a silent, simple command, but it’s one that he immediately understands even without you speaking.

“Wanna feel you━” You whimper. “Wanna see you.”

Jungkook nearly slips as he fumbles to pull out of you, hissing at the loss of warmth and friction. As soon as you’ve turned to face him, he wastes no time in closing the distance between you. He pushes his leaking cock past your folds once more and continues at the same pace as if he had never even stopped to begin with.

“Fuck,” he whines. “Not gonna last━”

You wrap your arms around his neck, drawing him even closer to you, as he presses you against the glass. He hitches one of your thighs around his waist, spreading your legs just wide enough to hit a certain spot that has both of you crying out. You’re clinging so tightly to him, fingers digging harshly into his skin in an attempt to alleviate the building pressure you feel. He knows you’ve almost reached your end when you resort to a gasping, moaning mess, writhing beneath his broad stature.

“Close, baby?” he hums.

You open your mouth to respond but can only muster a whimper. His pace treads over to heedlessly frantic, the sound of skin against skin and the lewd wetness filling the shower. Despite his hips pounding into yours so harshly, his fingers flutter so delicately under your chin, grasping it and moving your head just enough so that you’re facing him.

“Lemme see you,” he grunts. “Wanna watch you when you cum all over my cock. Always so pretty.”

“I━ I’m━ Fuck, Koo━”

But you can’t finish your thought.

You keep your gaze fixated on Jungkook’s, however exhausted and weary it may be. Your lashes flutter, brows knit together, and you suck your lower lip between your teeth, biting so hard Jungkook’s certain you’ll bruise it. Another few hard thrusts and then you’re reaching your high, overcome by such an intense burning that you can’t help but look away out of instinct. You cry his name, face contorting in pure pleasure, and chest arching to meet his. You’re clenching so tightly around him has him sputtering for air, nearly collapsing entirely against you. You’re near dripping around his cock which only means he almost slips from you with each draw of his hips that he makes. It’s why he sloppily rocks his hips into yours, desperate to reach his own high as well.

When you return to your senses, blinking away your blurry vision, you can make out Jungkook cooing into your ear, “That’s it, baby. Doing so well.”

You meet his gaze once more, only this time you’re perhaps even more tired. Hooded eyes watch him, silently probing him to his climax. He comes tumbling towards it, a few more short thrusts of his hips and, finally, he’s there. He slams his hips up into yours one final time, crying out, and then he’s releasing into you in an overwhelming abrupt gush. Only he can’t quite enjoy it because, out of genuine accident and driven by impatience to just get off, the last jerk of his hips hits you a little too hard.

It’s what causes you to slip backward and he, so lost in his own reverie, hardly has a proper grip on you or where he’s standing. When you lose your footing beneath you, slipping on the wet porcelain of the tub, and comes crashing down, he’s brought along with you. “Oh, fuck━!”

The both of you yelp from the surprise, your hands flailing out to brace yourself for the fall.

Fortunately, you land on him when you reach the bottom of the tub, courtesy of him grabbing onto you last second so that he can soften the blow upon impact.

Unfortunately, the breath is knocked out of him from the startle and from the sudden added weight of you on top of him with no warning.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he groans.

“In hindsight,” You wince as you shift your weight above him, “maybe having sex in the shower again wasn’t the greatest idea. Remember last time when we knocked the shower curtain down and I had to get stitches on my elbow? It’s why we got the glass door installed, and then we had to lie to Tae about it.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” He tilts his head back, rubbing a hand over his face. Then, he flashes you an all too charming smirk. “Was kinda worth it though.”

You giggle, sounding so sweet and angelic, even despite the way his cum still leaks from you. Somewhere in the fall, his dick had slipped from you and now lays softening on his stomach which, really, is probably the worst part of the accident to him. He already misses the warmth of you wrapped around him, your mingling cum a dirty mess around him. You prop yourself up on his chest with your palms, but before you can even think to respond, you notice something out of the corner of your eye.

A small mass of fur in the shape of little Yeontan has just poked his head through the crack in the door, oblivious to you and Jungkook’s compromising position. And then, shortly following behind him, is his equally oblivious owner who must have forgotten something in the apartment to bring him back so suddenly.

“Tannie, get back here━ We gotta go━ Oh, Jesus, what the fuck?” Taehyung appears at the door for a millisecond before noticing the situation he’s just stumbled upon. Thankfully, he acts fast, and clamps a hand over his tainted eyes, clumsily scooping up Yeontan in his other hand. “Can you guys please stop fucking all over this damn apartment? My son’s eyes are too pure for this!”

And then he’s retreating, but not before bumping blindly into the doorframe, grumbling along the way. It’s silent for a moment as you and Jungkook gawk at one another; then you hear Taehyung leave the apartment once more, and the both of you dissolve into a fit of unabashed laughter.

“Are you okay?” You ask once you’ve calmed down enough as he reaches out to shut the shower off. You plant a kiss in your boyfriend’s hair. “You hit your head coming down.”

Jungkook’s heart swells at your gentle touches and smiles. “I’m fine,” he promises brightly. “You?”

“Well, you did just thoroughly fuck me, so━” You shrug innocently. “I’m kinda still too giddy to even care.”

“I’m gonna make it up to you,” he says. “For almost giving you a heart attack with my hair and for almost putting you in the emergency room again just now.”

The mention of his hair draws your attention to it once more. It’s not as wet as before, damp azure waves falling into his eyes that you brush away gingerly.

“Yeah,” You snort, “but I’ve decided I like your hair. Like, really like it.”

“Yeah?” he grins wide. “What was the deciding factor?”

You pause, as if to think for a moment. Exhaustion riddles your body and you know sleeping curled up next to Jungkook is nearing your future, but for now you let yourself entertain the last remnants of whatever lewd thoughts are still on yours and his minds before they fizzle away completely. You can’t help yourself anyway. The blue really is nice.

“Definitely the view of you eating me out,” You say. “And can’t forget how pretty it looks when I’m pulling at your hair.”

“Say no more,” he beams. “Then I’ll make it up to you by making you cum on my tongue again and again and again.”

The last thing he hears before he grabs at your cheek to softly pull you down to him for one last kiss, slow and ardent, is a bubbly giggle from you that delights him to no end.

“That’s a good boy.”

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

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lynnsfics · 4 years ago

Text

Feisty

Pairing: Racetrack Higgins x Reader

Request: “race or spot x feisty reader/oc + prompt #84 (sarcasm) from list 2 could be really fun! if it's not a bother, tysm 🖤”

Prompt: “I can’t date him! He hates sarcasm! That’s like my second language!”

Word Count: Approx. 1.7k

~~~

“Wait up,” Race called as you ran down the steps of the newsies boarding house. Although you felt bad, you didn’t stop. You had barely had time to get dressed before you heard the morning bell. The papes were already being sold and you had just left the house. Race being late was his own problem, not yours.

As you finally reached the distribution center for the papers you sighed with relief. Fortunately for you, they hadn’t completely sold out. However, that meant the headline wasn’t an easy seller, so you’d be in for a long day. Race caught up with you at the selling window.

“Hey, why didn’t’ya wait up?” he asked.

“Because it’d be great if we were both late,” you said, rolling your eyes.

He looked confused for a moment and then sighed with exasperation. “Oh, youse is bein’ sarcastic again. You know I hate when you do that.”

“Sorry Race,” you laughed. “But you know I can’t be late. ‘M already almost behind on my payments for the lodging.”

Race nodded in understanding. It was the same story for a lot of newsies, not being able to scrape together the money for lodging and then being out on the streets. “Why don’t we’s sell together today? I already has enough for my rent this month, so you can take some of my extra papes.”

You didn’t want to accept help from anybody, least of all Race. Part of you was worried he would resent you if you held him back, and for some reason that terrified you. “Are ya’ sure? I’ll be fine on my own as always, really.”

He shook his head, “Just because youse is ‘fine’ doesn’t mean that you should have to be all alone.”

Looking down, you nodded in appreciation. “Thank you, Race.” You prayed to whoever was listening that he didn’t notice the blush spreading across your cheeks. “We’d best buy some papes and start selling then, huh?”

You handed your money to Weasel, who was standing at the window counting the day’s profit. “I’ll take 50 papes, as usual.”

“Are you sure you can sell that many?” Oscar Delancey taunted. “It’s not a great headline, and you ain’t exactly the top seller anyways.”

Race shot him a glare but you already had a scathing response prepared. “Oscar, I know it’s difficult for youse to understand, but sales ain’t based wholly on the headline. Stunning good looks also factor in, which must explain why you and your brother never made it as newsies.”

“You’d better watch it,” Oscar threatened, balling his hand into a fist. He narrowed his eyes and you could tell he was getting irritated.

As soon as Race bought his papers you were off. Although you weren’t opposed to punching a Delancey, you would hate to get all mussed up. After all, you had to at least look a little bit respectable, that way you could sell in the wealthier areas without attracting any trouble.

You turned to Race with a grin, “So, where to first?”

He shook his head, “Youse is gonna get in trouble for talking back one of these days, you’re too feisty for your own good. But I found a great selling spot in upper Manhattan. People there give great tips too.”

“Perfect,” you said with a light laugh. “And I thinks I can take care of myself, thank you very much. Those Delanceys won’t even know what hit ‘em.”

Race simply rolled his eyes in response. “I certainly hope so,” he laughed. “Let’s head out before everyone in this city already has a pape.”

It was a fairly quick walk, but the brisk morning air made it seem longer than it was. Race looked over at you, noting that you had been strangely silent for most of the trip. When he saw you silently shivering he smiled to himself. Of course you were too proud to even mention it.

“Are you alright?” he asked. He already knew what your answer would be, but he decided to ask anyway. At least then it would seem like he hadn’t already made up his mind on what he was about to do.

Just like he predicted, you answered with a simple, “Yes, why?” However a visible shiver passed over you as you answered, giving away your lie.

“Because you seem cold,” he said, trying his best to sound exasperated and not concerned. He knew if he seemed worried you’d refuse his offer, not wanting to seem weak. “Here, take my coat, I don’t need it.”

“Race, no,” you shook your head. “You do need it.”

“Not as much as you do,” he countered. Despite your protests he shrugged off his jacket and placed it around your shoulders. “Don’t even try to give it back ‘til we’s done selling.”

You sighed and nodded, “Fine.” To be honest, it really helped against the chill. Although you knew Race didn’t need it as much, it still pained you to take it from him. There was no way he would take it back, though. He could be as stubborn as you when he wanted to be.

When you finally reached the neighborhood you breathed a sigh of relief. There were no other newsies in sight, which meant you were probably the first ones there. Or, you thought, the others had already sold everyone a paper and you wouldn’t make any sales. Hopefully it wasn’t the latter.

Once you began calling out headlines, both real and slightly made-up, you realized your initial impression was correct. Your papers sold fairly quickly and you received a few nice tips too. The whole time you weren’t selling you spent talking to Race about anything and everything.

Before you knew it the day was winding to a close and you had sold all your papes. Night was falling quickly and you had to hurry back to the lodging house. There was hardly any light on the streets and you became turned around.

As you tried to navigate on the darkened street you realized you had become separated from Race. You called out to him, “Race? Where are you?” Someone grabbed your hand and you jumped. Your heartbeat calmed, however, when you saw it was just him. “Don’t sneak up on me like that,” you scolded, “I could’ve had a heart attack.”

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I was jus’ worried ‘cause it’s easy to get lost here. Since I know the way I thought this’d be a safer way of heading back.” He motioned to his hand, still linked with yours. You nodded silently, thankful he wouldn’t notice your blush in the dark.

The trip back to the lodging house seemed to drag on for eternity as your heart raced in your chest. While you had always considered Race a friend, you had secretly wondered if there was any chance of something more. After the day’s events you realized how much you wanted the chance to be real.

When you finally returned to the lodging house you quickly said goodnight to Race before rushing to your room. On the way, however, you were stopped by Jack, who was looking at you confusedly.

“Are you wearing Racetrack’s jacket?” he asked you.

Shit. You had entirely forgotten to give it back in your haste to get to your room. “Oh, yeah, he lent it to me for sellin’ today. It was chilly so…” you trailed off, praying Jack wouldn’t ask anymore questions. While he had always been like an older brother to you that also meant he teased you like an older brother would. Which, unfortunately, included joking with you when he thought you liked someone.

Somehow Jack had figured out that you had a tiny crush on Race and was determined to set you two up, and tonight was no exception. “Well I didn’t know youse was sellin’ together,” he said with a smirk.

You answered quickly, “It was just for today, no big deal.”

“Well, if youse ever does get together don’t say I didn’t call it.”

Rolling your eyes, you began to grow defensive, “I can’t date him! He hates sarcasm! That’s like my second language!” Even as you said it you knew it was a bad excuse.

Jack chuckled lightly, “Sounds like something someone makin’ up excuses would say.” Damn it, he knew you too well. “Maybe you should go give him his jacket back and, I dunno, talk to him a bit.”

He was right as always. There was no way you could keep living like this, you had to confront how you felt, which meant confessing to Race. “I think I will,” you said softly. “G��night Kelly.”

You slowly made your way to the front of the lodging house. Somehow you knew Race hadn’t gone to bed yet. When you stepped out into the cold night air, you knew you were right. The faint smell of cigar smoke wafted up the steps from where Race was sitting.

“Hey Race,” you said quietly. “I realized I never gave you your coat back and,” you shrugged, holding it out to him.

He took it silently and you sat down next to him. “Thank you, by the way. For helping me sell my papes today, and for lending me your jacket and, everything, really.”

Race smiled, “Of course. It was nice having someone to sell with.” You could tell something was on his mind, he seemed distant.

“I’m glad you came out here,” he said. “I wanted to talk to you about something. Lately I’ve been thinking, and well,” he paused before continuing, “what if we went out sometime? If you don’t want to that’s fine,” he said quickly, “but I was thinking we could go on a date or something.”

Before you could second-guess yourself you leaned and pressed your lips to his. Your heart was pounding in your chest and after a split-second he returned the kiss. His lips were surprisingly soft, and unsurprisingly, the kiss tasted of cigar smoke and something sweet that you couldn’t quite place. When you finally pulled away you were breathless.

He grinned, putting an arm around your waist, “So, is that a yes?”

You laughed as you rested your head on his shoulder, “It’s a yes.”

~~~

Requested By: anon

Why do my newsies fics always end up longer than I originally plan? Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist and as always likes and reblogs are appreciated! Love you all! <3

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biscuit-buddy · 4 years ago

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kuzumochi. (18+)

Endeavor x Reader (Smut, Birthday Fic, 3.1k)

A/N: holy shit guys this got so much longer than expected i’m sorry if it drags at all i just had so much i wanted to get out! Also its 11:22pm so its technically still his birthday. ha.

What do you get for the man who could already have whatever he wanted at the snap of his fingers? Being the number one pro hero meant that Enji already received truckloads of expensive things, tickets to exclusive events, and the newest technologies simply because of his status. You knew this because everything he received went through you after being thoroughly checked at security. Eight months as his personal secretary offered you a glimpse into his extravagant world and honestly left you with a small bite of bitter jealousy. Some of the things that passed over your desk could pay the rent in your measly apartment for the next year, and you were sure he never gave most of it more than a second glance.

Your pen tapped lightly against your bottom lip as you stared at the pad of sticky notes on your desk, nothing more than illegible lines, dots, and scribbles covered the top one. With a sigh of frustration, you detach it from the stack, crumple it and toss it in the trash. Today was the first day of August, and the mental countdown to your boss’ birthday plagued your thoughts. While your job was comfortable as is, the cold treatment from the man you worked for grated on your every nerve. You’d think after nearly a year in his employment he’d begin to warm up to you, maybe even bother to remember your name. This was your chance to finally stand out to him if only you could think of something that the hero could possibly want for his birthday.

As much as he’d probably like a break or a vacation, you were in no position to provide that for him. He obviously didn’t want for anything material either. Does he even have a sweet tooth? You wondered silently as the tapping of your pen resumed against your face. I can’t even imagine a guy like him eating a cupcake. You know what? Actually I can and it’s hilarious. I bet his mustache would burn the frosting and-

“Ahem” Well, speak - or think- of the devil and he shall appear. Endeavor himself stood at your desk with an impatient look on his stern face. The goofy smile you’d been developing at the thought of the massive man eating sweets was quickly wiped off and your back straightened at an uncomfortable pace.

“Daydreaming on the job?” he asked, but you got the feeling he didn’t really want an answer, so you just bow your head in apology. In an embarrassed mumble, you replied, “Sorry sir, won’t happen again” and he gave a huff in response, not unlike that of a great dragon. You held back another smile at the fleeting thought of smoke puffing out of his nose in discontent, as he handed you a manila envelope stuffed to the brim with some kind of paperwork.

“I need this hand-delivered to the Hawks Hero Office immediately. This is sensitive information I’m trusting you with.” You gingerly accepted the packet, but couldn’t avoid the brief touch of his massive hand sliding past yours. You noted briefly just how warm they were, though you shouldn’t really be surprised. Courier work isn’t exactly in your job description but lately, you’ve been desperate to suck up anyways, plus some fresh air couldn’t hurt. You stood and gave one more quick bow, “of course sir, I’d be happy to deliver it” He seemed content with your answer and turned to walk through the frosted glass double doors that led into his office without so much as another word.

Honestly, that had gone better than most of your interactions in the past. Pleased with the slight development in your relationship you gatherers your purse and the envelope and headed for the elevator. Floors passed monotonously as you continued to float gift ideas around in your head, this was looking to be harder than you initially thought.

Once the lift reached the lobby you made your exit, pushing past a crowd of workers who seemed to just be returning from lunch. They laughed boisterously and made no notice of you squeezing around them. Finally, you made it to the front door of the Endeavor Agency and swiped your employee ID badge on the terminal next to the front door alerting the system that you had left the building. Fresh warm air tickled your skin as you made your way onto the sidewalk and began the trek to Hawks’ Agency. It wasn’t particularly far, only a few blocks away and the route was dotted with storefronts boasting all kinds of wares from cake to clothes to flowers.

In theory, one of the displays you passed should have given you an idea but once more you found yourself coming up blank as you approached your destination. The young man at the front desk smiled politely when you entered “Hi there, do you have an appointment?” his eyes flickered between you and the computer screen in front of him.

“Actually I’m here on delivery for Endeavor” you waved the yellow folder a bit to accentuate your statement “something about sensitive information?” This really wasn’t part of the job you signed up for. Face to face interactions with strangers is so damn awkward. Luckily the receptionist probably dealt with people like you all day and didn’t bat an eye before saying

“Of course, his office is on floor 22 but if he’s not in there, try the roof. I’ll let security know you’re heading up” and he began tapping at the keyboard with one hand while making a ‘go on’ gesture toward the elevator with the other. You thought about boarding but instead made your way to the staircase. I already walked this far, might as well make it a cardio day, and give myself a good excuse to order takeout for dinner. You were truly a genius, maybe it was time to apply at NASA instead of working your ass off for Mr. Hothead.

Twenty-two floors was a bit more of a workout than you thought it would be, and when you finally arrived at the top you were mildly sweaty cheeks ruddy and more out of breath than you’d like to admit so you take a moment to calm down before opening the doors and walking past the security guard. He gave you a sideways glance but kept his mouth shut as you knocked twice on the office doors.

The lack of a verbal response clued you into the fact that he was likely on the roof just as the receptionist had said, so you hung a left and let yourself sprint up one more flight of stairs. Once you made it through the door marked ‘rooftop’ you spotted the winged hero perched near the railing. You announced yourself so as not to startle him,

“Excuse me, Mr. Hawks? I’m here on behalf of Endeavor, he asked me to deliver this to you as soon as possible”

He wheeled around at the sound of your voice, and his eyes lit up with amusement at your disheveled appearance. “Hey, thanks! I was kind of expecting the big man himself but you’re certainly a nice surprise” he winked and took the folder from your hands “Nobody told me Endeavor hired such a cutie to be his secretary, ya think I have any chance of poaching you from him?” Despite your earlier thoughts about NASA, you had no intention of leaving your current position so you just laughed.

“I’m flattered but unfortunately I’ve got some oddly placed sense of loyalty for him”

“Oh I get it” he cocked an eyebrow “I would too if I was you, the guy’s a size queen’s dream after all. Gotta love the whole naughty secretary dynamic too”

You sputtered at his bluntness “Oh god no nothing like that I-”

“Aw, I’m just teasing kid, how couldn’t I when you come up here looking like that” He gestured to your flustered appearance and you immediately regretting taking the stairs moments ago “Besides, I’d be surprised if you got him to warm up to you enough to remember your name let alone bend you over his desk” He was spot on, you had to sigh at that.

“You’re right there, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t even notice if there was an entirely different person sitting at my desk tomorrow”

“Heh, yeah, sounds like him. But you know, his birthday is coming up maybe a gift will put you in his good graces” another effortless wink was shot your way and despite him being the one with wings, the attention really ruffled your feathers. It’s like he had a secret mind-reading quirk or something.

“I thought of that, but I have no clue what a guy like him would even want. It’s not like shopping for your mom, where you can just give her a picture frame that says ‘Live Laugh Love’ and she cherishes it forever ya know?” Hawks snorts in amusement at your comparison. You’re right and you’ll defend that if he asks, but he doesn’t.

“In that case, I’d be willing to let you in on a little secret, some little known Endeavor lore, a true exclusive if you ask me”

“I’m not a tabloid Hawks, just tell me already” this guy messes around a lot for being the number two hero, its an incredibly stark contrast from his only superior.

“Okay, okay, you gotta lean in though, he’d kill me if I leaked something so personal” you lean in closer as instructed and he whispers into your ear, “his favorite food... is kuzumochi” You pull back in visible disappointment.

“That’s it?”

“Yeah, he goes crazy for the stuff. Honest to god I’ve seen him inhale an entire batch in like five minutes. You want him to notice you? Then this is the best possible way, trust me.” and for some crazy reason you do. This could actually work, if it’s really as much of a secret as the blonde claims, you’d certainly stand out among the other gifts he’s sure to get.

You thank Hawks and turn to leave with a newfound confidence in this new plan, but not before he makes you promise to tell him how it goes after the big day. As you exit the winged hero’s agency building the work phone you were assigned chimes with a new email letting you know that you can go straight home after the drop-off, and your grin widens. Even better, now you have time to stop at the grocery store on the way home, the decision already made to go big or go home. You were bound and determined to make the kuzumochi from scratch, and it was gonna be the best damn thing your boss had ever tasted.

*******************************

The rest of the week dragged on in a painfully average way, the only thing keeping your mood afloat was the surprise dish you had been working on every night. You’d gone through multiple test batches, determined to get the flavor and consistency just right. The work paid off on the night of the 7th, just in time when you completed your best batch yet. With a content sigh, you washed your hands and packaged up the kuzumochi like a damn professional. Finally, you were able to take a long hot shower and climb into bed early with the anticipation of tomorrow bubbling in your chest.

Morning came quickly and your daily routine was done with care, then you grabbed the gift and began the short commute to work. Brain on autopilot, it seemed like no time at all until you were seated at your desk and logging in to the company’s computer system. The pristinely packaged gift was nestled into the corner of your desk, waiting for the perfect moment.

This moment came just before lunch when a mildly scuffed up Endeavor breezed past you in a huff and headed straight into his office. This is it you thought Sure, he’s a little pissy at the moment but this’ll cheer him right up. And with that, you knocked once on the office door and peeked in. The sight of him slumped in the leather office chair in front of the massive floor to ceiling window, eyebrow cocked at your intrusion made your heart jump just a little. How can one man be so damn intimidating? You cleared your throat and began to speak with entirely false confidence.

“Sorry for barging in sir, I just wanted to give you a birthday gift. It’s not much, but I hope you’ll accept it” the whole situation reminded you of confessing to your crush with a box of chocolates in middle school, and it’s funny how some things never truly change. You presented the box to him and to your surprise he actually reached out to take it.

His scrutinizing glare never let up as he untied the silky ribbon and lifted the lid, but once he recognized the contents his expression shifted quickly to one of surprise.

“Is this... kuzumochi?” His gaze fell on you and it had nearly physical weight.

“Yes sir, I have it on uhm, good authority that it’s one of your favorites” should you admit that Hawks told you this bit of information?

“Why?”

“I’m sorry? Its… well, it’s your birthday, right? I wanted to get you something that would stand out.” It felt silly to admit to his face.

“And why would you need to stand out, Y/N?” You had to keep your jaw from hitting the floor when he so casually dropped your name, the name you were sure he hadn’t even known. He decided to let you mull over the question as he took a bite of your carefully crafted treat, you could hear a small satisfied hum in his throat and it gave you chills. He beckoned you closer, “it’s delicious, would you like a taste?” when you hesitated he added, “it would be awfully rude to refuse your boss on his birthday, especially after all the trouble you’ve gone to making these”

A heavy step carries you over to his desk, like lead weights attached to your ankles. As you approach he rises out of the chair, a new unreadable look replaced the one of irritation you had been so used to all these months. “Come closer,” he said when you stopped just short of the desk. He’d never spoken to you like this before, and it sent chills down your spine. A few more steps took you around the desk to where he stood, and you barely flinched when he placed a large palm on the side of your jaw, the other held a piece of kuzumochi near your mouth. His intent was clear, he was going to feed it to you by hand. “Open” he commanded softly and you couldn’t deny him if you wanted to, so you complied.

The sweetness melted over your tongue, you truly had outdone yourself here. And once the piece was securely in your mouth, a warm thumb brushed over your bottom lip where his eyes also happened to be resting, completely content in watching you chew and swallow. The intimacy of the situation wasn’t lost on you. You recalled something that Hawks had said about a ‘sexy secretary dynamic’ and once again he was right. When the taste had completely faded from your senses, you looked up to finally meet your boss’ eye. The intensity in them shook you to your very core.

“I’ll ask you again, why do you think you need to stand out?” at this, his hand dropped from your lip down to your waist “Were you hoping for some kind of special attention?” the depth of his voice made your thighs clench, knowing full well where this conversation was heading. He noticed the action and quirked his lips into the faintest smile, one full of mischievous intent. One large step forward for him pushed you back onto the sturdy wooden desk. “I can’t possibly disappoint my favorite little employee then, can I?”

You barely had time to brace your arms behind you before his hand moved over again to res on the top of your thigh, and the one that remained on your jaw guided you into a kiss. It began soft, Endeavor was no fool. He tested the waters, your willingness, before jumping right in. The second you started to kiss back it was full speed ahead. The man was experienced for sure, he knew exactly how to coax your mouth into a dance with his own. Once his tongue pushed into your mouth it was all over for you, you’ve become a slave to the feeling.

All too quickly he broke the kiss, and you had half a mind to whine at the loss of contact. When you opened your eyes you noticed he was leaned over towards the box of kuzumochi that started everything. Odd time for a snack but okay. And when he returned to face you he did have another piece in his mouth, as well as the red ribbon you used to tie it in his hands. Your mouths met once again, this time he pushed the food into yours with his tongue. While you’re distracted with the odd sensation of kissing and eating at the same time you hardly notice the way he pushed both your arms up above your head and deftly tied your wrists together with the ribbon. When he was sure they were secure he let them drop and find a home around the back of his neck.

You swallow the kuzumochi just as he turns up the intensity, completely claiming your mouth with his own. This time, he pushes you even further back until you’re laid completely flat on the desk. His fingers rake up and down your sides while his hips press against yours. You can feel his growing excitement pushed up against you and the feeling has you nearly moaning. Nearly isn’t good enough got the number one though, and he starts trailing kisses down your jaw and further until he reaches the junction of your neck where he bites and sucks like his life depends on it. This finally brings forth the noise he was chasing, and when you go to cover your mouth from embarrassment is when you finally realize that your wrists are bound.

Your boss’ attention is directed elsewhere though, as he reaches a hand under your skirt, past you panties, and begins to stroke your folds. You both realized how wet you’ve become at the same time, and now it’s his turn to moan. One large digit enters you as his mouth travels further south, now nipping at your collarbones and chest. Your wrists slip from around his neck and his free hand strokes upwards from your side to push your arms up over your head. Completely exposed to him he continues to ravish your skin and curl his finger in and out of your cunt. Quickly you come undone around his finger and he removes his mouth from you long enough to drag the digit along his own tongue.

“You’re even sweeter than the kuzumochi, here” he pushes the finger into your mouth and you diligently suck the rest of your juices from it. “Good girl.” The praise itself makes you moan once again. When he’s satisfied with your work he begins to remove his pants and you finally get a glimpse of what you’re working with. You nearly get up and walk out right then, because the man is massive.

“Just relax, I’ll start slow” he reassures and stays true to his word. After a long moment of adjusting he’s fully sheathed inside you and you swear this is what heaven feels like. The moment he begins to move you know you were wrong. If that was heaven you must have finally ascended even further, to wherever gods go when they die. Endeavor fucks you hard and slow against his desk until your eyes are rolling back in your head and you can see every constellation on your eyelids. And when it’s over, you’re shaking like a leaf.

He pulls out, not giving a second glance to the fluids leaking out of you and onto the floor, and begins to untie your wrists. Both of them are red and raw from the friction of the ribbon, and he places a tender kiss on each of the marks. One more kiss on the bruised patch he left on your neck, then he’s hoisting you upwards in a sitting position. Still unsteady but slowly coming back down to earth, you feel a soft tissue wipe at the mess between your legs while a strong hand continues to keep you upright rests at your side.

When you look up to meet his gaze, your confidence is no longer an act. “Happy birthday,” you say and for once he breaks out a genuine smile that makes him look ten years younger.

As he rests his forehead against yours he replies, “It’s not over yet” but before you can question his meaning the intercom system next to his computer rings and a voice announces “Mr. Hawks is on his way up, sir” and you choke. You did promise you’d tell him how things went.

#endeavor x reader #endeavor #enji x reader #enji todoroki #bnha #mha #happy birthday endeavor

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jennagill · 4 years ago

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Take a Shot at Love

Summary: Katniss is new in town and Peeta is her range guide. Now rated M.

Part 3 is written for @promptsinpanem in the 15 Days to Finish Your Fic (For Kika) Round. Parts 1 and 2 on AO3 here. They’re short if you missed them in ... checks notes... 2015 and 2018.

Yes. I told him yes. His face brightened into a warm smile at my acceptance. We agreed to meet at the Club but that doesn't stop the butterflies in my stomach while I get ready in my apartment.

Right now I'm struggling with what to wear. Practical over anything else. Closed toe shoes, high neck top, practical above anything else. I don’t want a rogue shell casing burning me. Besides, it's only a Sunday afternoon, right?

So it feels like a date, but I—and anything else in my head is blinded by the flash of someone’s daytime running lights outside my apartment. It’s just someone turning around but my eyes cut to the clock and I need to leave now. Long-sleeve turtleneck and vest with jeans it is, as I slide into my boots and head out the door. The drive over to the Capitol Hunting Club is mercifully short, compared to the growing list of questions in my head. I park and grab my bow and quiver with standard arrows before rushing inside.

The main showroom is packed. Who knew so many people wanted to attend this event? How am I ever going to find Peeta in here? My mind buzzes as I scan for his face when a gentle nudge from behind stops me in my tracks.

“Hey, found you,” he greets me with another one of those disarming smiles.

He’s definitely cleaned up well. Gone is the safety hue and in its place, a fetching shade that matches his eyes.

“Hey, uh yeah. This place is crazy busy. How'd you manage the day off from work?” I ask as my eyes roam the facility and catch a few familiar faces. “Looks like they have the whole staff on point here tonight.”

“I traded a coworker for a few Saturdays. It was quite the negotiation,” he pauses for a long moment, as if he is deciding something. “Ultimately though, I told him that I had a really special date,” he says as heat blooms across his cheeks.

“So this is a date, then?” I say with caution. “I wasn't sure, so I'm glad we have that clarified.” It almost sounds like a contract, rather than romance.

“It's a date if you allow it,” he stammers as his cheeks reach beet red before settling back into his normal skin tone.

I consider this, weighing my heart, body, and head on the matter. I can only imagine the confusion my face must show until I meet his eyes and the fog begins to lift. “I'll allow it, though...having a first date on Valentine's Day? What kind of omen is that?”

“Truth be told, Katniss, I've been wanting to ask you out for months but never worked up the courage until now,” he says quietly. “I’m not placing any special emphasis on the day, I’m just happy to be here, with you.”

Well that’s hard to argue. “Okay, well where do you want to start?” I try with a smile.

“Shoot first?”

“Pardon?”

“The pistol range, then the archery range, and then the meal?”

“Oh, I don’t… really know that much about pistols, my only experience with guns is the shooting we did the other weekend.”

“Oh I have a feeling you’ll be dead on with your aim and we can rent from the club too since I don’t own a pistol. I’ll run you through a safety briefing too.”

I keep considering his motives and his actions, if they are aligned or if I’m missing something as we move to the first station. It’s not much more than a series of door frames with walls in between, just enough for two people to stand closely with a shelf at waist height to place the weapons. I watch Peeta take aim at the ringed hearts on paper hung seven yards away. Blue, purple, and pink. Pop, pop, pop, goes my nerves and heart. The sound is too much on this indoor range with the pistols, even with the noise canceling headphones Peeta lent me.

“Your turn,” he gestures and shows me that the pistol is on safety and pointed down range on the shelf. He changes the target out for good measure too.

I take the pistol in my hands, forming the teacup he mentioned and squinting at the target. The cool steel chills me—I’m more accustomed to the warm bow wood. I flip the safety off and squeeze the trigger, taking a breath between shots. A crackle of electricity runs through my shoulders and spine as I finish my clip but it’s not the same thrill found in the woods. I take another glance at the target. All of the paper hearts are shredded.

“Is there anything you can’t do?” Peeta asks in amazement.

“Thanks, though I think I’ll stick with my bow or trap and skeet,” I say, flipping the safety back on, placing the weapon down, and backing away from the shelf.

Peeta sends another series of shots down range but I’m done shooting pistols for the day. My fingers are itching to get back on a bow. I go over to the archery station for some sanity while Peeta returns the equipment to the rental booth.

Red balloons are attached to the various targets on the archery range with prizes inside. Peeta takes aim with precision and hits nearly all of them. The slips float down to the floor to be retrieved by attendants. “Bullseye! Have you been taking lessons?” I ask casually.

“No. I just replayed what you told me in my head, and well—I wanted to impress you.” A lopsided grin sneaks across his face and he shuffles his feet.

His honesty takes me aback. He says everything in such an offhand way and I am foolish to have suspected ulterior motives. “Well...it shows, you’ve improved a lot since the other day.”

He beams at the praise and then it’s my turn to shoot. The attendant notices that the standing balloon targets offer no challenge for me, so he releases balloons from a ceiling net I had not seen earlier. At first it seems stupid, but it turns out to be kind of fun. Much more like hunting a moving creature, albeit a slow-moving one. Since I’m hitting everything he releases, he starts increasing the number of balloons in the drop. I forget the rest of the range and this date and lose myself in the shooting. When I manage to take down all five balloons in one round, I realize it’s so quiet I can hear each prize slip hit the floor. I turn and see the majority of the people of the range have stopped to watch me. Their faces show everything from jealous to admiration, though Peeta’s face is the brightest of them all.

The attendant calls for cease fire and I retrieve my arrows and prize slips—gift cards for the Club store and café, mostly. We venture toward the cake and coffee bar set out for this event. I wrinkle my nose at the coffee but notice that they offer hot chocolate too. “Oooh, that cake looks amazing!”

“You should have a slice, I have it on good authority that it's delicious,” he says.

He's met with a raised eyebrow.

“It's from my parent’s bakery,” he shrugs with another disarming smile. “Red velvet cake, cream cheese icing, and dark chocolate shavings on top.”

And he’s not wrong. The dark flavors burst in my mouth, sending ripple effects down my spine. The cake and hot chocolate together give me a nervous energy, propelling me toward the next steps of this date. I feel like I could run 26.2 miles now, okay maybe just a half marathon. We both finish our desserts though I have something sweeter in mind.

“Will you walk me out to my car, Peeta?”

Like a gentleman, he does and he waits patiently while I put up my equipment in the trunk.

“Katniss, may I kiss you goodnight—”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish because it’s me that leans in, answering his question with my own response. His lips are surprised but warm up instantly to me. His kisses are warm. His kisses leave me dizzy with want. Amazing kisses. Toe-curling kisses. I feel a swipe of his hot tongue in my mouth and I know that I need more.

He must feel the same way since he’s pulling me closer to him and kissing my jaw and neck, or what he can reach around my sweater. His body is so firm wrapped up with mine, something I’d like to explore more in private.

“Maybe it doesn’t have to be goodnight,” I say to the sinking sun and feel him pause at the shell of my ear, “maybe we can—“ deep breath “maybe we could go back to my place?”

Peeta clears his throat and meets my eyes, “Really?” His eyes cut to the parking lot, realizing that we’re still in a very public place.

“Um, yeah, I don’t live far from here and you could follow me there, if you—if you want to, that is,” I manage, though my confidence is slipping.

“Heck yeah, lead the way!” he says and grins.

“Okay, right, well let’s go,” I say before I change my mind.

If I thought the drive over to the Club was short earlier, this one flew by, my mind racing at the scenario I’ve just proposed. We’ve made it back to my place before I can second guess myself any further.

He parks next to me and follows me to the door, “This is a great location,” he chatters as I unlock it, “I mean, it’s a nice place too,” and then he’s scratching the back of his neck, looking around my sparse apartment.

“Well… as you know, I haven’t been in town very long and it seems like I spend most of my free time out at the Club, trying to compete for your attention with others,” I shrug.

“Compete?“ he laughs and hides his face in his large hand for a moment. “You don’t have any competition anywhere, Katniss,” and this time, it’s him that leans in.

Our lips have barely touched when I ask, “Couch or bed?”

He pulls back to look at me and curls that lip of his under a set of very white teeth. “Honestly, Katniss, whatever happens, you’re calling the shots.”

“Right then, bed it is,” and I pull him into my bedroom.

We spend the next few hours teasing, tasting, and exploring as much of each other as possible since Peeta only has one condom with him. He makes it last though and thoroughly fucks me. My favorite part is probably his ass. I remember checking it out on that very first day, and it’s certainly ample to cup while trying to coax him deeper into my throat or dig my heels into it as I spur him to the orgasms that finally give our bodies peace. My mind wanders just before we drift off to sleep, I just hope he doesn’t have an early shift tomorrow.

~~~~~~

Thank you @papofglencoe for the encouragement and quick beta skills on this third part! It was fun to come out of semi-retirement!

#look out for a moodboard #everlark fanfiction #prompts in panem #skeet!everlark #I write stuff #for kika

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thotsforvillainrights · 4 years ago

Note

Ok this idea has been living rent free on my mind just hear me out, how about chubby Kai being insecure so the reader just shows him how beautiful he is, the reader being a soft dom and Kai being a sub.

(Pspsps can the reader have a bodyworship and a praise kinks please)

[Not me coming back after a long hiatus with barely reasonable smut lol. You’ll have to forgive me if this one isn’t as good. I feel like whatever ability I had to write smut just disappeared but I’m hoping I haven’t lost it. I promise I’ll do my best!]

~Adoration~

-Chubby!Kai Chisaki smut-

Adoration- deep love and respect

You sighed while mindlessly watching the show in front of you from your spot on the couch. Your eyes were trained on the TV but your mind was elsewhere. The people on screen slowly shifted into colorful blobs and soon your interest in whatever they were talking about began to drown out as well. It was like your body was there but it wasn’t at the same time. Instead of focusing on the shows, you were wondering what was taking so long in the other room. Usually it was the other way around, but tonight Kai was taking too long to get ready. After a while you began to worry, so reluctantly you stood from the warmth of the couch and trudged down the hallway, careful to not step on your dress end/tux pant leg (or whatever choice of fancy clothing reader chooses to wear). When you finally made it to the room, there he was. Kai was standing in front of the floor mirror while scowling to himself. Your eyes trailed to the myriad of clothes that littered the bed. He noticed your reflection behind him in the mirror and turned to look at you, trying his best to hide his discomfort. “Y/N, I’ll be finished in a moment. Go wait for me in the living room.” He demanded quietly while fumbling to unbutton the shirt he was wearing. You chuckled and pushed some of the clothes on the bed out of the way before taking a seat. “I don’t know if you noticed this or not Mr. Chisaki, but that’s what I’ve been doing for the past hour and a half. You don’t suppose we’ll be able to make it to the event within the next 20 minutes do you?” You teased him but your smile instantly diminished when you noticed his eyes were a bit glassy?

“Kai? What’s wrong?” He scoffed at your concern and tossed the shirt he was wearing onto the bed with the others. He went to the closet to search for something new but he paused when he noticed it was nearly barren, save for but a few ties hanging up. “Perhaps you should go without me...I’ve...changed my mind.” He spoke quietly, his back still turned to you. “What? Are you being serious with me right now or is this a joke?” You furrowed your brows. Suddenly he turned to look at you with a touch of anger and desperation in his eyes. “Do I look like the type to kid around?” You sighed and stood up to approach him. He was confused for the most part when you made it over to him and gently grabbed the sides of his face in your hands. You smiled and nuzzled your nose against his before planting a gentle kiss upon each cheek. You managed to diffuse his anger but the mood shifted when you saw his eyes glisten with water, tears threatening to fall but he was too stubborn to let it happen. “Kai please talk to me, you know I’ll listen if you tell me how you feel.” He sighed at your words and looked everywhere but into your eyes as he started to explain.

“None of my clothes look good on me anymore. I’ve gained so much damn weight in the past few months that I don’t recognize myself in the mirror anymore. I can barely stand to look at myself anyway...Aside from that, I can hear some of the men at the very lowest rung of the Hassaikai make fun of me behind my back. Surely I killed them off but it doesn’t diminish how their words made me feel. My quirk can easily be used to get rid of this issue but I feel like that’s the easy way out of things. I’d like to become much more active but between work I just can’t find the time. I’m a disappointment and far beneath what you deserve to be seen with.” He finished ranting to you and quickly reached up to wipe a tear away but you beat him to it. When he looked at you with wet eyes, he expected to see you agreeing with him but instead you met his gaze with adoration, love, and support. “Kai I can understand how you must be feeling right now. Gaining weight like that must’ve felt drastic considering its only been a few months but you shouldn’t be caught up comparing yourself to the past yknow? We’re humans, and our bodies grow with change. It’s good you want to work out instead of just using your quirk, but you should know that working out could be done to make yourself feel better health-wise instead of changing your appearance to change others. Personally I thought you were handsome before and I still think you’re handsome now as well. No matter what appearance you take on you will always be Kai Chisaki, young head of the Shie Hassaikai. If I can love you, then you owe it to yourself to love you as well. Got that, my capo?” He rolled his eyes at the nickname and rubbed away more tears. “I suppose...but now what will we do? I’ve made us late to the entire damn event and I’m sure Pops and the others are waiting on us.” He scratched his chin in thought and stared off at the wall while trying to figure out a game plan. Meanwhile you had much more devious intentions wrapped beneath all that fluff you laid on him. “Angel???” You caught his attention immediately when those hands of yours fumbled with the rim of his underwear. His ears and cheeks quickly turned pink/red from the shock of it all. “What are you doing?”

As if he had to ask.

You smirked at him and flashed mischief from those half-lidded eyes. “What do you mean what am I doing? I’m simply showing my husband how beautiful he is and how much I appreciate his body. You can’t honestly expect me to give up this opportunity when you’re right here in front of me.” You feigned innocence and he could already feel himself hardening up...especially with the way your free hand gripped him and teased him from the outside of the underwear. “Angel, but we’re already late. What if we-” He paused and sucked in air from his teeth when you slipped his cock out from the confinement of the underwear, and your tongue took an experimental swish at the tip. His hands clenched at his sides, trying his hardest not to grip your head and guide you. He was trying to deny it, keep his composure but you were too much to handle sometimes. “C’mon Kai, since we’re already late to the party, why don’t we have our own fun here, hmm? Be real good for me and let me taste that cock of yours? Maybe if you’re really a good boy, I’ll let you cum. How does that sound hmmm?” You voice may have seemed sweet, but he wasn’t dumb enough to fall for it. He knew of your dominance sometimes displayed in the bedroom when you were up to it. The temptation to bend to your will was all too strong so he obeyed. “Fine, j-just make it qu-quick.” He pouted and looked away from you, his face cherry red by now. You smirked in triumph and wasted no time on him. Taking his entire member and shoving it into your mouth at once may have been the closest thing to heaven on Earth he would ever feel in his life. In all honesty, he almost came right then and there, but he wanted to hold out for you. He needed to be good for you or else your punishment wouldn’t be nearly as soft as you were treating him right now.

“Mmmm, you’re certainly tasty Chisaki~” You spoke after slowly moving your mouth from him. You spit on the tip and used your thumb to spread it around, taking delight in the way he shivered under your touch. “Are those knees of yours getting weak, capo? You can’t really be giving out on me already can you?” You teased him and he groaned lowly. “C-cut it out and just suck it already.” You frowned at his demands and shook your head. “What are the magic words, handsome?” He blushed lightly at your compliment and uttered a soft ‘please’ while looking away. You smiled and began swirling your tongue around the head of his cock while using your hand to gently massage him. You only pulled away to occassionaly speak praises on him.

“You have such a lovely body Kai, it’s just right for me. I love your tummy, I love your cheeks, you shoulders, back, arms, all of it. I adore most of all the way it react when I’m touching you like this while we’re alone.” He shuddered at your words and only began quietly moaning when you went back down on him. With each bob of your head and hand, it was getting harder and harder to contain the sounds he was making. By the time he was nearing his finish, he was a moaning mess. His legs were shaking and standing was barely an option anymore but he held on so as to not appear to weak during your show of dominance. His face was a brilliant red/pink, and it was coated in a sheen of sweat. He couldn’t really find the words but this wouldn’t be good enough for you in the moment. You needed him to understand all of this was out of love, lust, and adoration for him so you made him beg.

“Kai speak up for me. All those moans are just a garbled mess and you know it.”

“Angel please...”

You smirked and worked your hand a bit faster than before, spitting on him again to keep the slick lubrication on his cock. “Beg harder for me handsome. Tell me you need this.”

“Please Angel, I can barely take anymore. I’m so close I’m-”

“Beg harder.”

“ANGEL PLEASE! I want to cum so badly, I’ll do anything!”

“Hmmmm, anything?”

“Yes, GOD YES!”

“Then admit it. Admit that your body is beautiful no matter what. Admit that you’re worthy of love from my, others, and most importantly yourself. And promise that you’ll stop being so hard on yourself. Do it Kai, if you wanna cum.”

“YES, I PROMISE...I’ll !!!” He gasped loudly and came without much of a warning, with you accidently getting caught in the crossfire. You pouted and he quickly looked away while trying to catch his breath. Slowly he fell to his knees on the ground in front of you and lowered his sweaty head to your shoulder. “Ugh, you make a mess of me every time...” He quietly gasped out between breaths. You wiped the cum from your face and pulled him into a tight hug. “Making a mess out of you is fun. I’m the only one that can do it, so I take a lot of pride in that.” You teased him lightly and he sighed. “Let’s go take a shower. This is disgusting you know.”

“Agreed.” You kissed his neck and joined him in the shower. After preparing for bed, you shot a text to Pops and the others letting them know that a matter of business came up last minute and that was why you and Kai couldn’t make it. After the little white lie, you cuddled up into bed beside him and he pulled you into his chest, placing his head on you so he could inhale your sweet scent from the body wash. “Y’know I meant everything I said back there, about loving yourself and how you were worthy of it. I just wanted you to know it wasn’t just the heat of the moment.” You spoke up after a long comfortable silence. You felt him kiss the top of your head as he began rubbing gentle and loving circles into your hip underneath the covers. “You treat me too well, Y/N. I love you, and I suppose I’ll make better attempts at your wishes. Now please go to bed.” You chuckled at his words and rolled to face him. His eyes were full of gentleness and appreciation for you. “Okay, mochi tummy.” You teased him with a smile and planted a gentle kiss on his lips before nuzzling into his neck and chest and falling asleep. “Pshhh, such an annoying nickname.” He lied before following shortly behind you to dreamland.

»—————————–———————————————————–✄

Instagram: @pastelbattydraws & @pastelbattystore

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCRNMJH7vHL7APNobUykhK4w?view_as=subscriber

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #overhaul #kai chisaki #chisaki kai #yakuza #bnha overhaul #mha overhaul #smut

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heyitsani · 4 years ago

Text

Pretend You Know This Song

Word Count: 2265

Rating: Teen and Up

Warnings: General Batfam chaos, Reverse Robins (not really a warning but eh)

Pairing: Damian Wayne/Jon Kent and brief hints of one-sided-ish Jason Todd/Dick Grayson

Notes: As I told @mlim8, this comic has been living in my brain rent-free since she posted it and I couldn’t resist. Go shower it with the most affection you possibly can because it’s adorable and I love it. And Mel.

This is also kind of just a shit post because I needed to get it out of my head. So I wrote and edited in less than two hours. Don’t judge.

You can also read this on AO3 here

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damian and his father were already seated at the table in the small dining room the family used for regular meals when the others started filtering in. It had been a particularly rough night on patrol, both Jason and Richard getting a little more roughed up than usual, so it was unsurprising that everyone was slow to wake. Though, had it been a working day, he was certain his father would have managed to pull himself out of bed long before he actually did.

“Tim, I was unaware you stayed the night,” his father greeted his second eldest son as he entered the room. Damian was unsurprised by the raised eyebrow and silence from his younger brother was he took the seat just to the left of the eldest of the Wayne kids. It was as far away as he could get from the man he still struggled to be around. Not that Damian blamed him.

There was a soft scuffing sound of socked feet being dragged on a Persian rug as Jason entered the room and slumped in the seat next to Tim. Damian knew that if either of them had been more aware, they would be on opposite sides of the table as well.

“Good Morning, Master Jason,” Alfred greeted as he set a plate in front of the teenager before he set one down in front of Tim as well.

“Morning, Alfie,” Jason intoned before diving headfirst into the plate of food without greeting any of the others around him. It was all very mundane and ordinary for each of them. After years of being a family, however mismatched they were, they had become terribly predictable.

More unsurprising than all of the other entrances to the dining room was Richard’s. Despite having only been with them for a little over a year and still suffering the loss of his parents, Damian couldn’t help but compare the boy to a literal ray of sunshine. He had no idea how the thirteen-year-old managed it, but he always managed to seem so cheerful. Despite the various bandages and bruises that could be seen over what bits of skin were exposed, he still bounded into the room with a bright smile.

Damian watched him greet each family member over the top of the newspaper he was reading, grudgingly accepting the hug he gave the eldest so freely, before the teen bounced over to his seat by Bruce.

“Morning everyone,” the boy greeted with a warm smile before turning that smile upward to Alfred as the man set a plate in front of him. “Thanks, Alfred.” The older man smiled and patted his head before heading back to the kitchen. “I have an announcement,” Richard’s voice sounded from his chair, and Damian glanced up to see him smiling that smile with his hands clasped in front of him.

He could see the others at the table look over at Richard and regard him carefully. Rarely ever did Richard not command the attention of whatever room or crowd he was in. The acrobatic nature of him wanted the attention. In a small, family setting it was no different.

“So I’ve decided! When I grow up, I’m going to marry Jon,” he offered up freely, and Damian felt his eyes roll immediately before dropping them back down to the paper in front of him. He heard his father let out a chuckle, something only Richard could pull from the head of the household, and he noticed Tim regarding Jason, who was frozen looking at the youngest. “He’s kind, and smart, and handsome,” he listed but Damian found himself more interested in the growing smirk on Tim’s face as he continued to watch Jason for some reason.

A quick glance at the teen showed he was still frozen watching the youngest.

“And he can fly!” Richard finished his list off with a bright smile on his face, seemingly proud of the list of reasons he had made in Jon’s favor. And though Damian couldn’t exactly fault the younger for seeing Jon’s better qualities, he was a little disturbed given the age difference between his best friend and his younger brother.

“WHAT?!” Jason’s outburst seemed to catch everyone but Tim off guard and Damian made a mental note to ask the other man about that. “EW!! NO!!! You can’t marry Jon! He’s already so old!” Damian glanced over at Richard as Jason ranted, clenching the paper a little tighter at Jon being deemed “old” when Damian was two years his senior. He decidedly ignored the smirk Tim sent his way despite seeing it out of the corner of his eye. Bastard. “If you marry him when you’re older, he’ll be like 1,000!!” Damian watched Richard’s face turn confused, brows pulling together as Jason spoke.

While Damian didn’t see the harm in Richard’s little crush, he was still young after all, Jason seemed to be completely outraged by the idea. A glance at the other two adult at the table told him his father was simply exasperated and trying to ignore the situation but Tim looked almost…amused as he typed into his phone. He really needed to get to the bottom of that.

“Besides, you can’t even date him!” Damian grabbed his tea as Jason continued and tried to go back to reading the paper. “He’s gonna marry Dami!” The words caught him off guard enough to cause him to spit out the tea he had just taken a sip of.

“Wh-what?!?”

“W-we are not, Todd!” Damian found himself exclaiming, eyes wide as he took in the determined look on Jason’s face and the tears welling in Richard’s eyes. Damn it all to hell, he grumbled mentally. The last thing he wanted was a crying Richard.

“Liar!” Jason turned an accusing finger on Damian. “I saw you smile at him during patrol!” Damian sat there for a moment, stunned, before he noticed a movement out of the corner of his eye and looked over at Tim.

“Drake! Are you recoding?!”

That damn smirk slid back onto his face. “No.”

The sigh his father heaved from his end of the table was loud enough to draw Damian’s wide eyes. He could see Richard with his face buried in his hands and buried in his father’s chest. “You boys are lovely this morning,” the man said flatly, an arm wrapped around Richard’s shoulders.

“Father…!” Damian gestured over to the other two, one who still hadn’t put down his phone and the other who was no glaring at the food in front of him. But his father simply raised an eyebrow and started to rub circles on Richard’s back.

“That is certainly enough of this conversation,” Alfred stepped into the room and immediately took Tim’s phone out of his hand. Despite the protests from Tim, Damian knew Alfred would most likely delete the video. “Can you boys please finish up your meal without another incident? Master Richard, you have yet to touch your food.” His tone went from hard to soft as he reached the youngest who was still clinging to his adoptive father. “Why don’t we put this behind us for the time being and enjoy the rest of our meal?” There was a muffled sniffle before Damian saw Richard’s head nod and him slowly sit up. But he kept his eyes downcast as he moved back to his chair and refused to look at anyone as he started to slowly eat.

Damian found himself clenching his fist to keep from getting up to comfort the boy. He knew that after the year of practically being his father, he would always struggle not to be the one the teen turned to when he was upset. But this time, it was Damian he was upset with. So he pushed the instinct down and stood from his seat.

“Titus come,” he called for the dog who had been laying at his feet the entire debacle as he stepped away from the table. “It is time for your walk.” He didn’t bother to look at anyone other than Richard as he left the room, but not even a glance was sent his way. It bothered him more than he wanted to admit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The evenings patrol had been quiet, and Damian found himself thankful for that given his mind kept going back to what had transpired at breakfast earlier in the day. He could tell Richard was still upset about the events, but Damian had no idea how to make the situation better. He didn’t want to encourage Richard’s crush given that yeah…maybe him and Jon were something to one another. But he also didn’t want to stop him from behaving as a young teenager should. The only thing he could think of to do was request that Robin join Nightwing on patrol instead of Batman.

And though the teen was a vigilant as ever, Damian knew him well enough to notice that he was always just on the edge of saying something. It wasn’t until they took a moment to just observe the city below them that he seemed to have gained the courage.

“D…” he started, and Damian bit his tongue at the reprimand that wanted to surface at the nickname. “I’m sorry I said I was gonna marry Jon,” the teen said quietly, latching onto Damian’s wrist. The apology was definitely not what the elder had expected. “I didn’t know you were dating.” And though the almost heartbroken sound of Richard’s voice made his chest ache, Damian wasn’t sure what to say.

“N-No names in the field, Robin,” he chastised him carefully. What was he supposed to say to Richard? He didn’t want to lie but he also didn’t want to explain something he wasn’t even quite sure of himself. The fact that Jason had picked up on it was enough to show that perhaps Damian wasn’t keeping his feelings as under wraps as he thought. “Let’s head back. I do not think there is any reason for us to remain out tonight. We can have some hot chocolate before bed,” he offered as an acceptance of the apology.

And when Richard’s smile went from sad to it’s usual brilliance, Damian knew he had made the right call. What the consequences of his lack of denial would be, he’d have to deal with them later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a few days since the incident that shall not be named took place and Damian found himself letting Jon into his Bludhaven apartment after having just handed Richard over to Alfred to take home after he had stayed over for the weekend. He hadn’t been expecting his best friend, but he didn’t find it an unpleasant surprise so he didn’t complain.

“Dick already gone?” Jon questioned, glancing around to see the chaos the teen had left behind but not the teen himself. Damian only hummed with a nod as he picked up various items the teen had upended or left behind. He made a pile of things to wash and things to return the next time he was in Gotham, which likely would be in the next day or so. “So….”

Damian looked at Jon over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow, noticing he was rubbing the back of his neck. The bashful act immediately put Damian on edge. “What?”

“Why did Dick tell me that he approves of our relationship?” Damian froze in mid reach for an item and instead stood up, arms crossed over his chest. He knew he looked as annoyed as he felt. Damnit Richard. “Are we in a relationship?”

Damian huffed a breath. “Ignore him. It was Jason who put the thought in his head the other morning,” he waved a hand at the other man and went back to picking up the items strewn about his apartment.

“But now I’m very curious as to what exactly happened,” Jon teased, and Damian sent him an annoyed look before entering his room and depositing the laundry into his dirty clothes hamper. He knew that Jon would follow him, but he still rolled his eyes when he turned and found the taller man leaning on the frame of the doorway. “And maybe I don’t want to ignore what Dick said.” That caused Damian freeze for the second time in a matter of minutes.

“What exactly are you implying here, Kent?” He let the laundry basket drop the few inches he had picked it up back to the floor, turning to find the man standing just behind him. “Jon?”

Jon’s blue eyes traced over Damian’s face and the older man found himself holding his breath as the man searched for whatever it was he was hoping to find. “Maybe I’ve just been waiting for some kind of hint and Dick finally gave it to me…” Whatever Jon had been looking for he must have found because his warm hands rose to cup Damian’s face as Jon stepped a bit closer.

“A hint toward what?” Damian whispered, focusing all his strength at resisting the urge to look down to Jon’s lips that were moving closer with each passing moment.

“That this would be a welcomed gesture,” the man muttered, leaning forward and effectively closing the space between their mouths. And though shock reverberated through his body, Damian allowed his eyes to slip shut so he could enjoy the moment for however long Jon allowed it to take place. If he was going to offer this side of him so freely to Damian, who was Damian to deny him something he himself had been yearning for for years?

#reverse robins #DamiJon #jaydick #sort of #damian wayne #jon kent #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #anikah writes #blame mel for alllllllll of this

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demetriandelibinaryboyfriends · 4 years ago

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AIGHT Y’ALL I wasn’t tagged but I’m doing this anyways because f u c k i t

It's the year 2021 and you're obsessed with The Karate Kid. How are you feeling?

Deadasss weird as fuck, my dude. Like...out of all the things I could’ve predicted happening in our lord’s year 2021, it definitely was NOT getting hyperfixated on a hammy gay ship with a punk and a nerd from a goddamn karate soap opera. And yet...here we are??? I will never understand hyperfixations, my guy. But I’ve met a lot of really cool people in this fandom, so I can’t really complain.

Did you grow up with TKK or are you new to the series?

I have never seen a single Karate Kid movie in my entire life. When I was a kid, it looked kinda dumb so I never got into it XD But then I saw my roommate watching Cobra Kai on Youtube Red one day (he has every streaming service known to man) and I was hooked. And...here I am!

We gotta do the basics. Favorite character:

Literally EVERYONE except for Kreese, Yasmine, Kyler, and Tory, sorry stans

Okay but if we gotta pick, Johnny Lawrence is my Problematic Fave. Also I love my boy Daniel, he’s trying his best!!! And Amanda LaRusso, we stan a queen!!!

Among the kids, definitely Miguel, with Demetri as a close second. I also love Sam, Aisha, Moon, and Hawk (pre- and post-Bastardization Arc, anyways XD)!

Favorite ship:

Take a look at my username and take a WILD FUCKING GUESS lmao Yes it’s Eli/Demetri because DUH, every interaction they have is so fucking gay and Eli fucking saved him!!! And came back to him!!! And betrayed the world’s most terrifying dojo with a WAR CRIMINAL SENSEI all for Demetri!!! And how Demetri was willing to forgive him for everything at the drop of a hat because he always had faith there was still good in his best friend??? That’s TRUE LOVE motherfuckers. Please let them kiss in Season 4. I will sell you all of my limbs. Sam/Miguel is a close second because they’re cute as shit and it’s just so lovely to see two people so unapologetically smitten with each other. They are in LOVE, and I will RIOT if they break up again!!! Keep Sam and Miguel together 2k21!!!

Underrated character:

SAMANTHA LARUSSO!!! The amount of hate my girl gets for acting like a normal teenager and fucking up occasionally JUST like the rest of the cast makes me want to start punching things. She cares SO MUCH about her friends!!! And she loves the shit out of Miguel!!! She hasn’t always been the best friend but you know what??? Neither has Hawk, and we still forgave his ass!!! Also LET HER BE FEMININE but also kick utter ass, my god!!! Femininity should not be synonymous with being weak, y’all! ALSO DEMETRI, like yes, he likes to complain and occasionally run his mouth, but guess what else he likes to do??? Never give up on the love of his life his best friend Eli Moskowitz and refuse to lose faith in him no matter how much of a little shit he’s become, and I for one think that’s very badass of him. Also the way he takes care of Eli pre-Cobra Kai in his own snarky bastard way makes me absolutely Weak and needs more appreciation. Like the dude has charisma and COULD have probably made other friends and left Eli behind if he wanted, but did he??? No, he wants the weepy loser with the lip scar in the polo shirts and dorky sweaters and will protect him as much as his wimpy ass is able!!!

Underrated ship (don’t say therapy, lol):

Among the adults, Daniel/Amanda!!! Like maybe I just don’t watch that much tv, but it seems kinda rare to me to see a happily married hetero couple, and it’s just nice to see a married couple who genuinely love each other and where there’s not like...lingering resentment or some shit. I feel like this ship gets overshadowed by Lawrusso a lot (which like--okay, fair!!! Daniel and Johnny do have a ridiculous amount of chemistry, and the gay undertones are undeniable, so I get it), and it makes me kinda sad. I do love Lawrusso, but I don’t like when Amanda has to get her heart broke for it to happen, you feel? Among the kids, honestly YasMoon. Like I really love the idea of Yasmine trying to better herself because of Moon’s influence on her and because Moon like...inspires her to be a better person, I guess? With their pretty strong friendship, it just makes more sense to me for Yasmine to get a redemption arc through Moon than through Demetri. ALSO girls DO often pull the whole “mean girl” shtick to cover up being closeted lesbians, and Moon IS canonically bi, so it could work!!! I just think this one could be a really interesting Friends to Lovers take, and could make a really nice coming-out arc for Yas. And MoonPiper too, honestly!!! Like they only got 5 seconds of screentime so I understand WHY it’s underrated, but I still love what we DID get and loved that there was a canon gay ship (even if only for 1 scene lmao). I’m really excited to potentially see more of them in Season 4!!! Please, I’m begging!!!

Wax On, Wax Off or Sweep the Leg?

Sweep the Leg because it will always be deeply hilarious to me how Demetri took note of the first move Eli ever used on him and spent presumably weeks perfecting it OUT OF SPITE just to get him back with it at the soccer game MONTHS later. Just goes to show how OBSESSED Demetri is with Eli and their little karate rivalry which is just NOT straight, I’m sorry

Which of Daniel’s dumb little outfits is your favorite?

There’s something so funny about this pretentious little fuck walking around in fancy suits once he becomes a #SuccessfulBusinessman, and still occasionally trying to do karate in a full-ass suit (take THAT, Tom Cole’s boba!!!) I’m also a big fan of how he looks in his gi with his little headband. Still killing that look as a 40-50-something!!!

Character from the films you most want to return, who’s not Terry Silver:

Tbh I have still never seen a single Karate Kid movie (they took them off of Netflix, RIP), so...I don’t really care if they bring anyone else back??? I’m invested in the characters we already have in the show, I don’t need some rando from the movies to make a cameo to have a good time XD The only character I really wanted them to bring back was Ali, and they already did, so like...I’m good??? That’s all I really needed, I can die in peace now XD

Scene that lives in your head rent-free:

Basically any fluffy Elimetri scene, but 5 in particular: ~Miguel first meeting Eli and Demetri at the lunch table, and Eli looking at Demetri like he hung every goddamn star in the sky ~Demetri going off at a terrifying, “unhinged” karate sensei on the first day of Cobra Kai because he made fun of Eli’s lip and Demetri is not about that shit ~ELI STEALING DEMETRI’S NACHO AND SMIRKING AT HIM, LIKE EXCUSE ME SIR PLEASE BE A LITTLE LESS HOMOSEXUAL IN FRONT OF YOUR GIRLFRIEND ~Eli yanking Demetri onstage during Valley Fest to hold a board, and Demetri being visibly like...extremely turned on when Eli breaks said board ~ELI SAVING DEMETRI DURING THE CHRISTMAS FIGHT, ELI APOLOGIZING, DEMETRI AND ELI KICKING COBRA ASS TOGETHER AKSBDCUWYVCBU

Will Anthony LaRusso ever be relevant?

I hope not! He’s kind of a funny meme character to pop up now and again but I don’t think he deserves a serious plotline when there are so many more interesting characters to follow.

You live in The Valley and are forced into the karate gang war. Which dojo do you join?

Miyagi-Do because Cobra Kai would eat me alive. Also I’d probably straight up get stuck and die in that cement mixer, if I even made it that far XD Besides, being salty that your friend who you have a crush on likes martial arts better than you and starting martial arts to impress them but also being too lazy to join anything TOO intense is a Big Mood and I am certainly not speaking from personal experience here, no sirree

What’s your training montage song?

"Shut Up and Drive” by Rihanna for a weight-training and bicep-flexing montage, “Whatever It Takes” by Imagine Dragons for a more intense punching-and-kicking-shit montage. I don’t know why this is, I just feel it in my heart.

It’s the crossover event of the century! Which TV show are you combining with Cobra Kai for an hour-long Saturday night special?

*Briefly panics because I don’t actually watch that much TV and most of the stuff I do watch is fantasy/sci fi shit that absolutely would not work for a CK crossover*

Hmmmm okay but ACTUALLY

You know what would be fucking funny as hell would be an It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia crossover. Allow me to elaborate: ~The Gang goes to LA on vacation during the height of the Karate Dojo Wars. They literally can get barely anything done without all these goddamn karate-fighting teenagers getting in the way. ~They are all very annoyed by this. Even the most obscure of tourist attractions is eventually intercepted by karate fights. ~Mac tries to join Cobra Kai because he sees all this karate fighting on, and wants to unquestionably prove both his badassery and masculinity. Both Johnny and Kreese are like “Wtf are you doing here? Aren’t you like 30?” ~Mac gets a planet-sized crush on Johnny after all of 5 minutes and endlessly gushes to the gang about him. The gang mercilessly roast him about this and about how much of a pathetic loser with his life together in no way whatsoever Johnny sounds like. They proceed to have exactly 0 self awareness about this. ~The Waitress is in town visiting family or something, and Charlie is stalking her, as per usual. However, every time he’s about to go up and talk to her, a pack of battling Miyagi-Dos and Cobra Kais throwing punches and kicks everywhere blocks his path. One times, Mac is among one of these packs and Charlie is like “???? He didn’t get kicked out of that teen karate dojo yet???” ~Seeing how much the Kids These Days seem to like fighting, Charlie drops by a local high school to try and sell Fight Milk to the kids doing karate. Only Kyler and Brucks buy into it, and subsequently get the entire West Valley High wrestling team sick. Charlie is inevitably arrested, as Counselor Blatt thinks he’s selling the kids drugs. ~Dennis makes a plan to have sex with every hot chick he can in Los Angeles. He meets Ali on a dating app post-divorce, and inevitably tries to bang her. It doesn’t work. ~Frank crashes the rental car, and inevitably the gang ends up at one of Daniel’s dealerships. Dee quickly takes a liking to Daniel and is like “Watch, assholes--Imma homewreck this guy’s marriage.” She starts frequenting the dealerships to attempt to flirt with Daniel, until one day she walks in on him having sex with Johnny in a back room and she’s like “Is that the guy from Mac’s goddamn dojo?!?!” ~Dennis, of course, tries to sleep with Amanda. Amanda is not having it, and rebukes him in the most snarky, Amanda-esque way possible. Dennis is just like “Oh not AGAIN--the women in this goddamn diva city have too high of standards!” ~Later on, the gang is at the beach and Dennis spots the blonde lady he went out on an ill-fate date with, and decides to give it another shot--that is, until he sees her go up and kiss another woman and he’s like “IS THAT THE LADY FROM THE CAR DEALERSHIP??? STUPID-KARATE-KICK-COMMERCIAL’S WIFE?!? YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME.” ~Dee complains to Dennis about her lack of luck getting laid, and Dennis is just like “Oh come ON, is everyone in Los Angeles gay???” Smash cut to Hawk and Demetri having sex, Moon and Piper making out, Bert and Nate holding hands, Chris and Mitch doing oral, and Amanda, Ali, and Carmen having a threesome. ~Frank tries to scam Kreese into buying cheaply-made karate equipment for his dojo. The gang ends up having to leave LA because Kreese is quite literally plotting all of their murders.

For tagging, uuuuhhhhhh @jackonthelongwalk @soe-leo @max-eagle-fang @cc-tinslebee @backawayfromthegay @asphodel-storm do the thing, if y’all haven’t yet!

#cobra kai #cobra kai season 1 #cobra kai season 2 #cobra kai season 3 #ck #tag game #binary boyfriends #daniel larusso #johnny lawrence #it's always sunny in philadelphia #iasip

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angst-fairygodmother · 4 years ago

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Let’s Dance (Klaus Hargreeves x Reader)

A/N: Let's skip the pitchforks, I'm just going to go lie on broken glass of my own emotions. Although...y'all asked for this. (P.S. if someone can tell my incompetence how to add audio without it being a monstrously huge box, I’ll love you forever) Word Count: 1610 Content Warnings: references to death, serious illness, graphic descriptions of serious illness, HOLY FUCK SO MUCH SAD Now cross-posted to AO3: here

“Dance!” he called, shouting over the pounding base. “With me!”

His slight bow and his outstretched hand seemed out of place in the crowded club, red and blue lights flashing at seemingly random overhead. He teeth practically glowed in the steadier blacklights. Strobes reflected in his eyes, making his already manic expression seem even wilder.

The smart person would have said no.

You giggled, downing the rest of your drink and placing your fingers in his. With a tug, he pulled you to your feet and into the heart of the crowd. His hands found your hips pulling you flush against him. Your shirt rose up as you shimmied together and your heart thrummed when hot skin met feverish. The scope of the world seemed to narrow until it was just you and him and the music moving you, the rhythm helping you meld into one perfect, flowing being.

Somewhere, or rather somewhen, his lips were on yours and you breathed each other like air. He tasted of sweat and vodka and sugar, all raw and sharp and sinful.

You invited him back to your apartment. Maybe not in so many words, but you were beyond words now as you writhed and twined, bodies singing in a crescendo.

By morning, he was gone, and you were sure you would never see him again.

The radio crackled, a soft jazzy tune crooning through the room. It was the kind of song you could slow dance to in a kitchen with you lover in one of those perfect fairytale moments. Only this wasn’t a fairytale, you weren’t in your kitchen, and you certainly didn’t have a lover. You looked boredly around the hall from your metal folding chair, praying that the event would soon be over and you could leave.

“Hi,” someone said, sticking a hand in your face. “You look as miserable as I feel.”

“Your hand says ‘goodbye,’” you said bitterly. “You should listen to it and leave.”

“Or you could dance with me?”

The hand moved to be palm up in front of you, the man it was attached to bent slightly, the fur trim of his coat brushing against your foot as it bounced on your other knee. A thrill of recognition ran up your spine. You placed your fingers in his and let him pull you to your feet.

This time you were the only ones dancing, sweeping through the dusty church basement, earning disgruntled glares and confused laughter from the other mandated attendees of the charity event (you were supposed to be collecting and sorting donations for a rummage sale, but no one was bringing things and clearly none of you cared to be there). This time, when your bodies pressed together, it was an embrace. This time, you kissed him, a gentle kiss on the cheek to thank him for brightening your day when the song ended.

This time, as you emerged into the night, he was the one who invited you. Only it was less of an invitation and more of a plea.

“Come with me, stay with me. Love me,” he seemed to say, even though his words were just “I’m staying close by?”

And when his eyes shone the color of the cold Atlantic in the flickering street lights, just as sure to drown you, how could you refuse?

Days with Klaus stretched into weeks, into months, and suddenly it was going on two years sharing a cramped, shitty little apartment. Days with Klaus were more often nights, neither of you rising before 4pm if it could be avoided (and later, with you working your retail shift and waking him when you came home).

Some days glittered like stars and you danced. Some days you held him close as he tried to rattle himself apart, withdrawal or too strong a high equally capable of reducing him to a specter of tremors and sobs. Some days, he held you as cried, or more often simply stared out into a shadow world that only you could see, when the cruelties of the real one threatened to overwhelm you and you wanted nothing more than to sleep a dreamless sleep forever. Some days you screamed at each other, lungs burning with the intensity of your anger and your hurt. You thought about telling him to get out. You thought about begging him to never leave. You never said either one.

But most days, you just lived. Like any other young couple struggling to make ends meet and make their way in a world that couldn’t care less. Life wasn’t perfect, but it was real, and it was yours, and you never wanted it to end.

And then it did.

You thought that the end of your relationship, when it came, would be brought on swift wings by an OD Klaus couldn’t come back from, or a proper prison sentence that you were too exhausted to wait for him through. You never thought it would be you.

At first you were just tired at night, you didn’t want to go out anymore, preferring a quiet night on the couch with your love. There was more watching, less doing. Dinner stopped turning into dancing.

You started to notice his fingerprints turning into bruises, even from the most gentle and reverent of touches.

You got so tired that you had to quit your job. Klaus found work, or some other way that you never asked about to make the money for rent and food that you lacked the appetite to eat anymore.

Most nights were spent with him holding you as you clung to him, desperate for contact, desperate for heat, desperately afraid.

You went to the doctor one day while Klaus wasn’t home. When he spoke, you stared at the sunny smiling face on the pain chart hanging on the cabinet behind him. You laughed bitterly, tears coursing down your cheeks. He asked you if you had any questions. You asked him for answers, for hope. He had none to give. So you walked out of the clinic, walked home through the snowy streets, your bones aching with every step.

You didn’t actually tell Klaus. You didn’t think you had to. The unfathomable sadness in his eyes told you that he already knew. You expected him to run. You knew he didn’t like death, hated it.

But he stayed. He cared for you as you shrunk down to a skeleton, as you struggled to keep even water in your system, as breathing became a fight, as your memory became cloudy. There were days where you couldn’t even remember his name, but you knew even then how much he loved you. He tried to keep your routine as regular as he could, to keep up spaghetti Thursdays and laying on the roof with him watching the stars while he smoked and talked nonsense and when he was really lucky you sang along to the soft, crooning radio. To pretend that you didn’t both cry yourselves to sleep more nights than not. He tried so hard for you.

One night, about six months after you began to get sick, you forced yourself to put on his favorite dress, even though it hung limply off your frame these days, and your favorite pair of bright red dancing shoes. He raised his eyebrows at you as you shuffled carefully down the hall, a soft, terribly fond smile gracing his face when you answered with a shrug. Your heart ached as you realized that you couldn’t remember the last time you had seen him smile, certainly not and mean it.

Slowly, you climbed out onto the fire escape and up to the roof of your apartment building, Klaus following close behind with his hands on your back and elbow to keep you steady. (He always managed to keep you steady, even when he was falling himself.)

You laid there on the flat plane, his fur-edged black coat as a blanket beneath the two of you. The haze of Klaus’s weed smoke floated through the air and the stars seemed to shine all the more for cutting through it. The moon was low and full, a watchful friend.

A soft, familiar note floated through the static of the portable radio above his head. You reached up to turn the dial, adding your own (rougher than it used to be) hum to the increased volume.

You stood up, reaching a hand down for him.

He frowned, puzzled.

You licked your cracked lips, more nervous than you had been in any of your days together.

“Let’s dance,” you said with a smile, tilting your head to one side.

He reached up and placed his fingers in yours, letting you tug him to his feet. Immediately, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close, the two of you slotting together as you had every night of your lives, made for being in each other arms.

As you swayed, barely moving, you tried to pretend that even this little exertion didn’t make you dizzy and tired; he tried to pretend he didn’t feel the way you trembled, the way your heart fluttered unevenly. Your eyes met his, those oceans of emerald and sorrow, and you reached up, caressing his cheek with too cold fingers, your papery skin sliding roughly across his.

“I love you,” you murmured.

He said nothing as he dipped his head to press a gentle kiss to your lips, a kiss you never wanted to end, a kiss tainted with the salt of tears from both of you.

A kiss that only broke when you pitched forward into darkness, collapsing into his arms.

#alright so this is mostly from the Live at Glastonbury Let's Dance #but there are also influences of Fair (The Amazing Devil) and How 'Bout a Dance (Bonnie & Clyde)#also just the fact that my heart is full of sadness sometimes #Klaus Hargreeves x Reader #ANGST #whump #The Umbrella Academy fic #Big Sad #I am the Angst Fairy Godmother #I am an emotional masochist

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eldritchteaparty · 3 years ago

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Chapters: 16/22 Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Rosie Zampano, Oliver Banks, Original Elias Bouchard, Peter Lukas, Annabelle Cane, Melanie King, Georgie Barker, Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Basira Hussain Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Fix-It, Post-Canon Fix-It, Scars, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, I'll add characters and tags as they come up, Reference to injuries and blood, Character Death In Dream, Nudity (not sexual or graphic), Nightmares, Fighting

Summary: Following the events of MAG 200, Jon and Martin find themselves in a dimension very much like the one they came from--with second chances and more time.

Chapter summary: Everyone heads to Elias’s house to continue discussing their situation. Jon and Martin talk with Elias.

Chapter 16 of my post-canon fix-it is out! Read at AO3 above or here below the cut.

Tumblr master post with links to previous chapters is here.

***

Martin took the front seat for the ride out to Elias’s house. He wasn’t sure if that was what Jon preferred, but it felt like it put less pressure on him to engage with Elias. He supposed he could have made some excuse to sit in the back seat with Jon, which is what he’d really wanted to do, but that would have made what was already a very awkward occasion even more awkward; after all, Elias was doing them a favor.

He wished he’d thought before to ask Jon how he actually felt about Elias. There was no guarantee Jon would have wanted to talk about it, but he should have offered him the chance. Martin could tell Jon wasn’t comfortable around Elias, but then again, neither was he. It wasn’t Elias, necessarily—it was more about the fact that when he looked at him, he couldn’t help but see Jonah Magnus, at least for a moment.

This brought up a bigger question that Martin had thought about but had no way to really ask Jon, and that was how much he operated on what Martin imagined most people did—memories, experience, reasoning things out—and how much he operated on knowing and feeling things most people couldn’t feel. During the apocalypse it had been almost exclusively the latter, based on how incapacitated Jon had been when separated from the Eye, but he knew Jon didn’t have nearly the abilities he’d had then.

On the other hand, there had been times recently when Jon had acted on Martin’s feelings without even realizing he’d been doing it; Martin suspected it had happened more times than he knew. Was it just with him that happened?

Only half conscious of it, he turned to check on Jon in the back seat.

He’d basically succeeded in putting the thought of their bond from the Lonely out of his mind since their first big argument here. Jon had just gotten so sick, and then—well, everything else, and he’d basically filed it away, undigested, a concept he didn’t quite know what to do with. Now, as Martin watched Jon stare distractedly out of the car window and into the night outside, the thought reinstated itself.

What did it mean, now that they appeared to be heading down the same path as before? Although he detested the whole idea, maybe he was somehow essential to Jon being able to start another apocalypse—or maybe, if Jon did end up starting one, Martin was essential to whatever his plans might be afterward. Could he use that somehow to—to help keep Jon safe?

As soon as the thought occurred to him, the guilt poured in from wherever it tucked itself away. Trying to protect Jon always felt so much like working against him, and he hated it, but he still hadn’t found another way. The guilt compounded with a familiar frustration bordering on anger—no, it was anger—as he reminded himself that even if he came up with something, even if he did manage to find some small foothold of power in this situation, it would almost certainly backfire. Everything—every plan, every measure of protection he or Jon had tried to take—always had.

He realized Jon had stopped staring into the darkness outside of the car and was now looking at him.

Martin took a breath to say something—he wasn’t sure what—when Elias spoke for the first time since they’d gotten in the car.

“Everything all right?”

“Um—yeah,” Martin said, turning back around in his seat. “Yeah, it’s just late, and I—I guess I’m tired. Sorry for not being more helpful.”

“Oh, I’m fine. I do this drive a lot.”

“Yeah, I—I guess you do.” Martin glanced back to see Jon had returned to looking in the direction of the window. “I mean, every day, right?” It was an incredibly stupid question, but Martin felt obligated to make some effort to keep the conversation going.

“Well—mostly. Every now and then I stay in the office overnight.” Elias turned and caught Martin’s eye, but the resulting discomfort seemed to be mutual, and he quickly returned his eyes to the road. “Or, I suppose, more often I just don’t come in in the first place. Sasha pretends to hate it, but I think we all know she’s happier when I just stay out of the way.”

Elias laughed at his own self-derogatory remark, and Martin tried to be polite with a quick hm. He hadn’t spent a lot of time around Elias here; he’d actually done his best to avoid him, simply because he was his boss, and Elias had seemed fine with that. It was the same way he’d tried to avoid Jon before—before he’d turned out to be Jon. Sasha had always been Sasha, she’d gone out of her way to make him comfortable, but—well, in any case, he didn’t think that laughing about Elias being a shit boss was the best way to forge a relationship. He had no idea how to interact with him under the best of circumstances, and therefore tonight was a lost cause. Thankfully, Elias seemed to arrive at the same conclusion, and let the conversation drop.

Martin turned to imagining the scenery that might be outside the car for the remainder of the ride.

He assumed they had arrived when Elias turned the car off the main road, and the surface beneath the car began to crunch. They drove a short way down this gravel lane before Elias stopped the car and pulled out his phone and opened an app.

“Looks like Allan gave up on me tonight,” he said. “Give it a minute… and… there.”

Several flood lights lit up the drive that curved around in front of an impressive country house; it was an impressive house to Martin, anyway. Elias hadn’t been joking when he’d said he had enough bedrooms to go around. His surprise must have shown on his face.

“The outside’s the best part,” Elias said, as he pulled the car around near the front door. “I really don’t even use most of it. It was a family place. No idea why I hang on to it, other than—well, it works.”

“Did you grow up out here?”

“Here?” Elias asked. “No—not really. We lived in town. We came here sometimes, I guess. Mostly my father rented this one out. I sold the London place as soon as he died, and meant to do the same with this one, but—well, it’s been twenty years—twenty-five, almost? Christ—and here we are.”

“Right,” Martin said, even though he had no frame of reference at all. His mother had died with nothing but what she’d kept with her in the care home. He supposed he was grateful for that; he’d barely found the fortitude to go through the couple of boxes they had returned to him. “Well—thanks again for having us all out here.”

“Oh—it’s, um—” Elias paused. “It’s the least I can do.”

“It’s not.” They turned to look at Jon.

“Sorry?”

“I’m just saying it’s—it’s not the least you can do. It’s rather far from it, actually.”

“Well—” Elias paused again. “Look, I’m feeling sort of—”

“They’re here.”

“What?”

Headlights flashed down the drive.

“Oh, the girls,” Martin said. “Guess they left around the same time we did.” Elias and Jon were already getting out of the car by the time he finished his sentence, clearly also not eager to have a real conversation for the moment.

“Park anywhere,” Elias told them as they pulled up. “You see where Allan’s parked, and we’re not expecting anyone else.”

“Tim,” Sasha said from the back seat. “He’ll be here. Well—in a day or two.”

“He’s been here before. He’ll figure it out.”

They managed to get everything out of the cars in one go, with Elias bringing Georgie’s bags, and Georgie carrying a padded crate that emitted an occasional small sound of distress. Georgie caught Martin looking toward the crate as they walked toward the house.

“He’s not fond of car rides, I’m afraid. Do you—like cats?”

“Oh, I just like animals,” Martin said, wondering why he was suddenly feeling shy. It was interesting, feeling something like a normal emotion in the middle of all this. He couldn’t decide if it was a waste of energy or a relief. “Never really had a pet, though.”

“Well, this is the Admiral. He’s pretty friendly, at least when he’s not in the car, so—”

“Oh yeah, Jon’s told me all about him.”

“Is that so?” Georgie asked, turning to look at Jon.

“I, uh—did get to know him a bit. Before. There, I mean.”

“Right,” Georgie said, shaking her head. “It’s going to take me a while longer to get used to this.”

“All right,” said Elias, as they walked through the front door. “I know it’s late, so if you all don’t mind I’ll save the tour for tomorrow. I was thinking it might be best if you all stayed on the first floor, but there are other rooms on the second floor. That’s where Allan’s room is. My bedroom’s down there”—he pointed to hallway on the right— “and I was thinking you all could stay here.” He led them down a hallway in the opposite direction.

“There are three rooms. Sasha, this one’s just got a double. It’s the smallest room, and you’d have to use the bath across the hall here—well, I mean, there are others, but that’s the closest. If it’s ok with you—”

“Oh, yeah,” Sasha looked both tired and appreciative. “Honestly, it’s much bigger than my room at home. It’s—it’s great. If you all don’t mind, I might head off? Try and get some sleep?”

“All yours. Oh—that door at the end of the hall, that’s a linen closet. If any of you need an extra blanket or towel or anything.”

“Thanks,” Sasha said. “For all of this. Goodnight.”

They headed just a little further down the hall as Sasha closed the door behind herself. “As for the other two rooms—Melanie and—Georgia—”

“Georgie.”

“Right, I’m—I’m sorry—Georgie—I was thinking if you didn’t mind sharing the hallway bath with Sasha, this room has a super king. Or the other one’s a king, but it does have an en-suite shower. And again, there are other rooms upstairs if—”

“I’m ok with this one,” Melanie said. “Georgie?”

“Sure. Unless you two—?” She looked toward Martin and Jon.

“Oh, I don’t—I don’t think we care?” He looked at Jon, who by now also seemed quite tired. Jon shook his head. “I mean, we’ve been sharing a double, and I guess before that we just slept on the ground somewhere, you know, when we could sleep, so…”

He trailed off as he realized everyone was looking at him with slightly wide eyes—even Melanie, who had been avoiding eye contact since they had arrived. He hadn’t meant to say quite that much.

“Well,” Georgie said quickly, releasing some of the tension, “if you’re really fine with it, honestly, the Admiral’s a snuggler, so… yeah. We wouldn’t mind the extra space.”

“Here, I’ll—” Elias picked up Georgie’s bags again from where he had temporarily set them on the hallway floor, and glanced at Jon and Martin. “Are you two all right? It’s just the last door down that way.”

“Thank you,” Jon said, surprising Martin.

“You’re welcome,” Elias said, before turning to help Melanie and Georgie get settled.

Like Sasha, their room was also much bigger than the one they shared at home. Not only did the king fit in it—it would not have in Jon’s flat, as the double just about took up all the room left after the dresser and the side tables—there was also an armchair to one side of the bed and a small writing desk in the corner. He remembered Elias commenting that his father used to rent the place out.

“Bit formal,” Martin commented as he set down Jon’s suitcase, which had been the heavier of their two bags. “Big, though.”

Jon nodded and handed Martin’s bag to him before sinking on to the end of the bed. Martin took a moment to sit next to him.

“You all right?”

“Yeah.”

“Tired? Want to go to bed?”

Jon nodded. They undressed; they knew which sides of the bed belonged to each of them without asking. Just as Martin was about to pull down the sheets, he realized the only switch to turn off the light was near the door. Jon was already in bed, so he got up to turn it off. He looked at Jon as he did; his eyes were already closed.

“Jon?”

“Hm?”

“Do you feel safe here?”

“Like I said before—we’re as safe here as anywhere.”

“Do you feel safe here? With Elias?”

“Oh. I—” Jon paused, opening his eyes. “I do.”

“Ok.” Although he felt like maybe there was more to it, one of Jon’s short answers was going to have to be good enough for tonight. Martin turned off the light and felt his way back to the bed. Once under the covers, he reached out to find Jon. He realized he was glad that the king wasn’t that much bigger than their double. He felt Jon turn toward him in the dark.

Outside, through the conduit of the hallway and the walls connecting their rooms, he heard Melanie’s raised voice, too muffled to understand. She continued for a few minutes, her words occasionally peppered by some also-muffled comment from Georgie, and then there was silence again. A small part of him found comfort in it, even if Melanie was agitated. It was familiar; it was something outside of himself and Jon that he knew and still felt he could trust for what it was.

“I wonder what she’s on about?” Martin asked, yawning.

He didn’t expect Jon to answer, so he was a little surprised that he did. “That’s her business. Or—hers and Georgie’s.”

“Oh. I didn’t mean—I wasn’t really asking. Just talking.” Jon’s comment had, however, reminded him of what had happened on their ride over in the car.

“Jon, can I ask you about something? I mean—if you need to sleep—”

“I’m fine.”

“In the car tonight—when you—looked at me. Did you know what I was thinking?”

“What you were thinking? No.”

“What I was feeling, then?”

“I’m—” Jon started to move away from him, but Martin reached out to touch his arm and he stopped. “I’m sorry.”

“Look, I—I’m sure you didn’t mean to. Just please, talk to me. You—you can’t help it, can you? Sometimes.”

Jon was quiet; Martin could hear him breathing, feel him struggle with the tension in his body. He gave him a minute. “I don’t like it,” he finally said.

“I know you don’t. Is it—just me? Or are you always feeling everyone’s feelings?”

“It’s just you. Of course, it’s just you. You know why.”

“I see.” He sat with that for a moment, letting it sink in as he alternated the pressure of his fingers against Jon’s arm. He knew he was fidgeting, but Jon didn’t seem to mind it. Maybe it was helping. “What did you feel tonight?”

“You were—you were feeling guilty. You always feel guilty, but this was… sharp. And you were angry. And—” Jon shifted under his hand, but didn’t pull away again. “And it all had something to do with me.”

“I wasn’t angry at you.”

“You don’t owe me an explanation.”

“And I’m not going to give you one, other than that. I just—I want you to know that.”

“You know—it’s all right if you are mad at me. I would understand.”

“I know. But I’m not.”

Martin let that settle for a moment before speaking again. “Jon is this—new? I mean, different this time?”

“Sort of,” Jon said. “During the apocalypse, I suppose I—gravitated that way. To your feelings. But everything—everyone—was so loud then. I knew you didn’t like it, and there was always something to drown it out.”

He stopped and cleared his throat. Martin waited.

“Now… Now it’s like when it gets quiet, and all at once you can hear your own heartbeat, feel your pulse radiating through your body. And then you try to stop hearing it, stop feeling it, and—”

“And you can’t,” Martin finished. Jon’s words were becoming painful, although he wasn’t sure for which one of them. “Yeah. All right.”

“I should have told you before.”

“I know why you didn’t. It’s—it’s ok.” Martin said. “I’m sure my feelings are no picnic for you either.”

Jon moved again, but this time it was toward Martin, into his chest. The covers slipped down from his shoulder as he did, and Martin reached for them, pulling them back up. Carefully, so he would not disturb them again, he slid his arm down around Jon’s waist.

They slept.

***

Martin was disoriented when he woke up. It took a moment to remember where he was; the darkness confused him. There were windows on two sides of this room, yet both were covered with heavy curtains instead of blinds, and very little light actually came in. He sensed it was still early, but he wasn’t sure how early until he checked his phone. He hadn’t slept especially late, which wasn’t surprising given how much sleep he’d forced on his body over the last couple of days—but Jon was gone.

Jon’s clothes from the previous day were neatly placed on his side of the bed, so he’d taken the time to get dressed. Martin took that as a sign that he didn’t need to worry. He stood up and stretched, then peeked out of the curtains of the closest window. He couldn’t even see another house from where they were; the lawn extended off into the distance, with the occasional tree adding some variety to the landscape. If they wanted to be away from other people, it looked like they had achieved their goal.

He left one of the curtains open for the little light it provided, and found the small bag with his razor and toothbrush before heading to the bathroom. They had been so tired that they hadn’t even looked at it the night before. It was spacious, with two sinks and a large shower with a hinged glass door. Jon had already been in that morning—either he had been exceptionally quiet or Martin had slept very hard, and he would have believed either. He was slightly amused at his compulsion to use the other sink, the one Jon had not used.

After he had finished up and gotten dressed, he cautiously opened the door and looked down the hallway. No one was there; it was quiet. He closed the door gently behind him and headed back in the direction of the foyer they had walked through when they had come into the house; he imagined he’d find some kind of main room nearby. He passed Georgie and Melanie’s room, and then Sasha’s room; both doors were still closed.

As he drew closer to the foyer, he heard low voices from a room to the other side of the hallway. They sounded conversational, comfortable even. He quickly realized one of them was Jon, and as he continued to walk toward them he recognized the other as Elias. He froze just as he reached the doorway, not sure if he should interrupt; before he could really catch any of the conversation, however, Jon spoke out to him.

“Martin? Is—is that you?”

Is that me, Martin thought, right—but even if they had been alone he wouldn’t have called him on it after their conversation the previous night.

“Um, yeah,” he said, stepping with embarrassment to the edge of the foyer where they could see him. “I wasn’t trying to—I just wasn’t sure if I should interrupt. I can head off, if—”

“Come on in,” Elias said, looking cheerier than Martin could recall seeing him recently. He and Jon were seated in a very proper pair of armchairs, with a small side table situated between them; Elias sipped coffee from a mug as Martin entered. “I was just telling Jon about my father, which is apparently the only thing I know how to talk about when someone is forced to spend more than five minutes with me.”

“Oh,” Martin said, not sure what else to say. The room had a high ceiling and was almost uncomfortably large; there was a fireplace that didn’t appear to get much use, more armchairs, and a sofa with a large rectangular coffee table in front of it. There were windows and a large set of decorative doors in the back of the room—presumably leading to the back lawn—but like the windows in the bedroom, they all let in much less light than Martin felt like they should.

“Coffee? Tea?” Elias asked.

“Um—I’d love some tea. I can get it though, if you tell me where the—kitchen is.”

“Back that way.” Elias pointed behind himself to another doorway Martin had failed to notice. “Through the breakfast room. I’ve got one of those machines that does the whole coffee-espresso-tea-blah blah-whatever thing. Well, really, it’s Allan’s, but he finally broke me down and I started using it. Help yourself.”

Martin looked at Jon, trying to discern whether he was all right. “Go on,” Jon said, gesturing back toward the kitchen with a nod of his head. He did seem ok, Martin thought. He seemed calm, anyway.

Martin headed back to grab some tea. He had trouble thinking of it as making tea—he had a dislike for these machines, they never really boiled the water properly—but it would more than make do this morning. He automatically set out two mugs from the selection on the counter, and only when he was in the middle of adding milk did he realize he hadn’t noticed whether Jon already had one. Fortunately, he did not, and he enthusiastically reached for the cup when Martin set it in front of him.

Martin sat on the sofa, the option closest to the armchairs, but he still felt separated from Jon and Elias. It was like the furniture was spread too far apart to make up for the vastness of the room, and hadn’t quite succeeded.

“Did you sleep ok?” It took a moment for him to realize Elias was talking to him.

“Oh—yeah. Yeah, I guess I did.” Martin rubbed the side of his neck. “I actually wasn’t sure what time it was when I woke up. The curtains keep it pretty dark in there.”

“Ugh.” He had just meant to imply that it was good for sleeping, but apparently it was a sore spot for Elias. “Worst thing about this place—it’s so dark. And it really didn’t have to be, you know?” He took another sip of his coffee. “Sometimes I think my father really preferred—oh, never mind. I’ve had enough of his ghost already this morning.”

Martin took a sip of his tea in the brief but uncomfortable silence that followed; he was saved from having to think of something to say when the front door closed loudly. He turned to look toward the foyer, but no one was there.

“Oh, that was just Allan,” Elias said. “He usually heads in about now.”

“Oh. Does he—know we’re all here?”

“He’ll figure it out.”

“What, you didn’t tell him?”

“Nah. He’ll ask if he cares. He’s always pretty wrapped up at work this time of year.”

“What—what does he do?” Martin asked.

“He’s a professor at the University here in Kent.”

“Oh. In Canterbury.”

“Yeah.” Elias, who had been holding his coffee cup quite comfortably between his hands until this point, set it down on the side table. “Actually, to be completely honest—I mean, he is very wrapped up, he just gets that way—but I wasn’t sure I wanted to involve him in all this. You don’t—you don’t happen to know if Allan was all right there? In the—other dimension?”

Martin opened his mouth before he knew what he was going to say, and then turned to Jon. It was clear neither of them had expected this question, and Martin felt both guilty and grateful when Jon took the responsibility for answering it.

“He—no. He was not all right. He died. A long time ago, before you did. Did you—want to know about it?”

Elias sighed. “I just—had this feeling, I guess. I don’t know. Will it help if I know? Help him, I mean?”

“I have no idea,” Jon said.

“Huh.” Elias leaned forward in his armchair and clasped his hands together, contemplating, and then turned to Martin. “Would you want to know, if you were me?”

Martin shook his head, holding up his hands in front of him. “Oh, if Jon doesn’t know if it will help, I definitely don’t. I—”

“I know. But what—what would you do?”

“I guess—” Martin looked at Jon, who shrugged. “I’m not saying it’s right, and honestly, I’m probably the worst person to ask, but—yeah, I’d want to know.”

“Ok,” Elias said, sitting back against the chair. “Tell me.”

“He was… consumed. By a—through—a Leitner.”

“A Leitner?” Elias was confused. “Like—Jurgen Leitner?”

“That’s what we called his books,” Martin explained. “The books from his collection.”

“The collection in the archives right now,” Elias asked.

“Yes.”

“And Allan was—consumed—by a book.”

“Well, they were different there—” Martin started to say, but he was cut off by a burst of laughter from Elias.

“Of course he was.” He continued to laugh, but his laughter became more strained. “That would be exactly how Allan would go in a world full of monsters.” He leaned forward, and the laughter came to a gradual stop as he rested his head in his hands, elbows supported by his knees.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” Martin said, knowing exactly how little it helped.

“No, no—it’s—it makes perfect sense. It just—does,” Elias said, before finally raising his head. “So, what do you think—I keep him away from the Leitner collection? That’s easy enough. He’s never been to the Institute in his life.”

Martin and Jon met each other’s eyes again.

“It’s never—it’s never simple,” Jon said slowly. “I don’t know if it means anything, but it was a long time ago. Certainly the entities had an interest in you there that they didn’t here—that they don’t. That can’t—that can’t be a bad thing. For you or Allan.”

“I’m sorry,” Elias said, sitting up again. He sighed, reached for his coffee, and resumed holding the mug with both hands. Martin realized it was the way a person holds a hot drink when trying to warm their fingers, even though there was no way it could be that hot anymore.

“No need to apologize,” Martin said. “It’s—it’s a lot.”

“Tell me—tell me about Jonah Magnus. And me. I want to hear it from you.”

Jon took a long sip of tea; Martin was glad he had made it for him. “You already know the basic story. What do you want to know about it?”

“Well, ok. Why me? Why did he choose me?”

“I suppose… I suppose you did have a certain profile. You had the right social status to run the Institute. Your—experience with Allan may have primed you in some way. And—” he stopped.

“What?”

“There was no one watching you. Well, no one who—”

“No one who cared.”

“No. No one who—who would—object too strongly if you changed. Slowly. Dedicated yourself to the Institute. Became Jonah.”

“I see.” Elias turned his cup in his hands.

“On the other hand—you weren’t the only one he could have chosen. Not at all. In a very real sense, you were just unlucky. In the wrong place.”

“Sure.” He continued to focus on his cup. “Was it—was it fast, at least? For me?”

Jon sighed. “No. No, it was—long. And slow. And—terrifying.”

Martin shuddered just a little at Jon’s words; he wondered if Jon hadn’t taken it a bit far, but Elias stayed perfectly calm.

“I see,” Elias said again. “Do you think—I know you said I was in the wrong place, but—is it possible that—maybe that’s not true? Maybe that was—my purpose?”

“Your—purpose?” Jon looked directly at Elias. “What—”

“I just think—I never understood why I went to the Institute in the first place. I mean—I kind of did, I thought I’d take a low-level research job, waste some time, do something that would have pissed off my father a bit—but I never really understood why. Not really. And I ended up doing everything he wanted anyway.”

“Well—I’m only guessing, but I think there must have been some sort of pull between the two dimensions, and maybe—”

“And maybe my real reason for existing was there, in that other dimension, to be—that. Some sort of useless, waiting husk that Jonah Magnus could crawl into and—”

“No,” Martin interrupted him. “That’s not—”

“But it makes sense. Just like Allan being eaten by a book. It would explain some things—why I couldn’t just walk away from all this. It would explain why I could never find anything else to go to. If that was why I exist, and it was finished years ago—”

“Jon, please—”

“No.” Jon’s face was pale, and there was an edge of controlled anger in his voice. “That’s not a thing. It is no one’s purpose to serve them. No one exists specifically to suffer and—”

They were interrupted by the sound of voices drifting through the foyer from the hallway; a moment later, the remaining houseguests appeared.

“Morning, everyone.” Sasha seemed very refreshed compared to the previous night; Melanie and Georgie, standing behind her and talking quietly to each other, seemed maybe slightly less refreshed. When no one responded, Sasha’s cheeriness faded slightly. “Is—is everything ok?”

Elias took a deep breath and sat up; smiling, he set his now-empty coffee cup down on the side table. “Everything’s fine. We’re fine.”

Georgie yawned, having missed the nuances of the exchange. “Well—we were wondering—had anyone thought about breakfast yet?”

“Yes and no,” Elias said, standing up. “I thought about the fact that I hadn’t thought about it until this morning. I have some stuff here if anyone’s starving, but we’re going to need to go out before too long. There are a few small places nearby, but I’m thinking we’re better off going to the Sainsbury’s in town and stocking up. I can—”

“Georgie and I can do that,” Melanie said. “You’re letting us stay here, we can at least pitch in and help out with food.”

In the end, Melanie, Georgie, and Sasha all ended up leaving for the store, with plans to bring back several days’ worth of food. After they left, Elias, façade crumpling, turned back toward Jon and Martin.

“I’m sorry for—that. Before they came in. It’s very easy for me to think too much.”

Martin waited to see if Jon would say something, but he seemed very lost in his own thoughts.

“It’s—it’s all right.” He was, again, very aware of how little these words helped.

“I hope you don’t mind if I take a moment.”

“No. Not at all.”

“Help yourself to—whatever. Anything.”

“All right. Um—thanks.”

Elias stuffed both hands into his pockets as he walked out of the room, back toward the direction of his bedroom. He left his empty coffee cup sitting on the side table next to Jon, who remained sullen and withdrawn. If Martin could have easily reached over to touch his arm, physically remind Jon of his presence without disrupting his thoughts too much, he would have, but the couch was too far away from the chair.

He was pretty sure Jon knew he was there, regardless.

He turned back to his cup of tea. It had gone quite cold by now, but he drank it anyway.

#the magnus archives #tma #mag pod #tma spoilers #jonmartin #tma fanfic #my writing

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flowerfan2 · 4 years ago

Text

One Night in Milwaukee

David/Patrick, 4700 words, A03

A little angsty-with-a-happy-ending, h/c one-shot. Happy Friday!

Summary: Being stuck in the Milwaukee airport is bad enough. Then David realizes that the man who broke his heart is sitting right next to him.

*****

The announcement at the gate is almost impossible to understand, but David gets the gist anyway. His flight to Toronto is cancelled, and no further flights will be leaving until at least tomorrow morning.

He immediately starts searching on his phone for a nearby hotel, wishing he had bitten the bullet and done so hours ago. It’s nearly midnight and he’s exhausted, having spent the best part of six hours in the Milwaukee airport as his connecting flight got delayed again and again. He’s just about to reserve a room when a nearby airline employee is accosted by an impatient couple. David stands up and drifts close enough to listen in – at least her words are clearer than those coming over the PA system.

Apparently due to the blizzard many roads are impassable, and passengers are being encouraged not to leave the airport. Even if they make it to a hotel, the airline employee explains, they will almost certainly have trouble returning in the morning. She encourages the couple to stay at the airport overnight if getting out on a flight tomorrow morning is their goal.

David sighs, grabs his bag, and makes his way over to the long line of passengers hoping to rebook their flights for the next day. He’s reached that state of tiredness when he can’t even focus on things around him. He doesn’t even bother scrolling through his phone, he just tunes out and shuffles forward until his turn comes.

It’s not as if it even matters if he gets to Toronto tonight, or tomorrow. There’s no one waiting at home for him, no one who will care if when he gets home. It’s been more than three years since he’s had anyone like that. Three years since he lost the best thing that ever happened to him.

David’s done the best he can to keep busy, now that the initial period of paralyzing depression is in his rear view. He works out, and keeps up with current events, and stays out of bars. He lives in Toronto, someplace familiar enough to be comfortable, yet completely bare of memories of Patrick.

For the past few weeks he’s been hanging out with Alexis at her condo in Brooklyn. She had decided to throw a party for American Thanksgiving, which David thought was actually in poor taste but somehow didn’t manage to convey to Alexis until the day before. In the end they cooked a bunch of food and donated it to a homeless shelter so he figures they did okay. It had been good to spend time with his sister, but she is busy with her job and her friends and eventually David had to head back home, which brought him to this endless stopover in Milwaukee.

David tries his best to be civil as he is tentatively booked onto an 8:35 a.m. flight the next morning.

“Thanks for flying with us,” the perky gate attendant says as she hands him his new ticket. “Please make your way to the lobby. This area will be closing soon.”

David blinks at her, confused. “Excuse me?”

“Please make your way to the lobby, sir. Passengers can’t remain by the gates overnight.”

David shakes his head and steps away as the next impatient customer pushes forward, and the woman’s instruction soon becomes clear. Everyone at the gates is being herded away, back out past security and to the much smaller lobby area. So not only does he have to spend the night in the Milwaukee airport, he’s got to fight for a chair again. Fantastic.

Miraculously David manages to find an empty spot at the end of a row, near a chilly expanse of glass with a view of the storm outside. He flops down with his bag next to him and stares for a while, not able to see much except swirling flakes illuminated by the flood lights on the tarmac.

After a while David drapes his leather jacket over his head to block out the evil florescent overheads and leans back, trying to doze off. He knows it’s going to be next to impossible to sleep like this, but he’s got nothing better to do. He vaguely notices someone approaching him, looking for a place to sit, and he tugs his bag off the empty seat next to him so the man can sit down. David may not be a nice person, but he’s not a complete asshole.

A nice person. Once upon a time, there was someone nice who cared about David, and who David cared about more than he ever thought possible. It was like something out of a fairy tale, right up until the end. David’s still not sure what happened, but the outcome was clear enough – Patrick was tired of him, and so that was that. No fiancé, no wedding, no happy ending in Schitt’s Creek. Rosebud Motel Group bought out Patrick’s share of Rose Apothecary, and David moved the store closer to Toronto, where it slowly became just a source for toiletries for the motel chain. Eventually the physical location closed, and David’s role dwindled to almost nothing.

It’s been more than three years, but his heart still aches when he thinks about Patrick. He can still hear his voice in his head, giving him shit or whispering sweet nothings in his ear.

Bizarrely, it’s at that very moment when he hears Patrick’s voice again, and it’s most decidedly not in his head.

“Thanks, that would be great.”

David sits up, his jacket sliding on to his lap, and his jaw drops. Sitting right next to him, taking an orange polyester blanket from an airline employee, is Patrick. He’s got a hoodie pulled up on his head over a ball cap, but it’s obviously him.

“Oh my god,” David breathes out, feeling his stomach fall. This can’t be happening.

“David?” Patrick turns to him. “Oh. Wow. What are the odds?”

“What – what are you doing here?”

Patrick is in the Milwaukee airport, backpack on the floor by his legs. It’s no mystery what he’s doing here. But David’s brain refuses to process this.

“My flight was cancelled.” Patrick fidgets with his hat, not really looking at David.

“But why are you sitting here?”

Again, not a mystery. The whole lobby is packed. David needs to get a grip and stop asking stupid questions. But he’ll need to work himself up to something more on point. He still can’t get over the fact that Patrick Brewer is sitting next to him.

“Um, right. I’m sorry.” Patrick leans forward to grab his bag. “I’ll, um, go somewhere else.”

Patrick stands up, and a nearby man spots him, vulture-like and poised to take his chair if he moves away. There’s not another free seat in sight.

“No,” David chokes out. “No, stay. It’s all right.”

“Yeah?” Patrick glances quickly at David and then away again, his shoulders practically up by his ears. “Okay. Thanks.”

David focuses on his breathing and presses his face into his hands, hoping Patrick doesn’t notice how close he is to freaking out. It’s unlikely, but you never know. If he does notice, at least he probably won’t call him out on it.

“I’m sorry, David. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Or maybe he will.

“I’m fine.”

“I really can leave, there’s a spot against the wall over there-”

“Patrick, for fuck’s sake, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Can I get you something? I’ve got some water…”

Unbelievable. “I’m sorry, you can sit here, but if you think there’s anything you can do to make this better, you’re out of your mind.” David can hear how shrill he is, but he can’t help it.

“Whatever. It’s not as if I ever knew how to fix us in the first place.”

“It’s not like you tried.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Patrick says, nearly shouting.

“Um, excuse me, but some people are trying to sleep, man,” a kid in a beanie sitting across the aisle from them interjects. “You should try it.”

“Eat dirt,” David hisses, and Patrick, that bastard, laughs.

“What?”

“You’re a riot, David. Sue me.”

David huffs and twists his body away. He’s not sure how to do this, have an ordinary conversation with Patrick in an airport. All the anger and hurt he thought he had handled is suddenly back, as painful as ever.

A few minutes later there’s a crinkling sound. “Want some?”

Patrick is holding a piece of red licorice in front of his face.

David blinks, disbelieving. Patrick wiggles the licorice. “Fine.” David accepts it and takes a bite, hoping he’s chewing in a sufficiently dignified way.

“Did you have a nice visit with Alexis?”

David frowns. “How do you know I was visiting Alexis?” Alexis had closed ranks against Patrick when it all went down. David had thought it appropriate at the time, but something in Patrick’s voice tweaks a pang of regret.

“You smell like her.”

“Ew, what?”

“Her perfume.” Patrick shrugs. “I recognize it. Or maybe you’re dating someone who wears it, I don’t know.”

“I’m not.” As if. “Guess I spent too long on Alexis’ couch.” He brushes at the leather jacket on his lap, as if little bits of Alexis would be clinging to it.

“How is she?”

Again, that pang. “Good. She’s good. She’s happy in New York. She’s got friends – real friends. Not that she didn’t before, you know, back in-” David can hardly say it, but Patrick nods. “But now she’s got real friends in New York, so.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Patrick says.

“What about you? How long have you been away? Work or pleasure?”

Something comes over Patrick’s face that David can’t describe. “Well, it definitely wasn’t pleasure.”

The conversation comes to an expectedly awkward end, both of them falling silent. There’s a group of people behind them who keep arguing over whether they should rent a car and drive to what seems to be a college reunion of some sort. David wishes they’d just go already.

“Want some more?” Patrick offers up another piece of licorice, and suddenly making nice isn’t working for David anymore.

“You can’t fix this with candy, Patrick. Bribes don’t make up for cheating.”

David can feel Patrick bristling next to him. “I didn’t cheat, David,” he hisses. “I told you, you just wouldn’t listen. If you want to keep believing it that’s on you, but I absolutely did not cheat. I would never do that to you.”

“You wanted to.”

“I did not!”

“Shhhh,” the woman on the other side of Patrick entreats. “We don’t care.”

David angrily bites off another piece of licorice. “You told me Mark was just a guy you met at the community center, and then all of a sudden he’s in the store when I’m not there.”

“We needed someone else to work on busy days when you had vendor visits – we agreed on that. I was training him!”

“You never told me. And when I came in-”

“He was just helping me put some boxes away.”

“I can’t believe we’re having this discussion again,” David says, tears welling in his eyes. He remembers the moment like it was yesterday, coming into the back room and finding Patrick with a tall, slim, dark-haired stranger, the man reaching up around Patrick, pressing him into the shelves.

“What do you mean again? We never had it in the first place. You came in, screamed at me, and left. You never let me explain.”

“What kind of explanation would you have given me? What could you possibly say? You’d been out every night that week with lame excuses, you kept finding reasons to avoid me, and then I find you with someone else.”

“David…” Patrick takes in a long, deep breath, and lets it out again. “David. I was out so much because I was planning your birthday party.”

David stares at him. “That’s impossible. Stevie would have told me. Or Alexis.”

“I didn’t tell Stevie, or anyone in Schitt’s Creek. I didn’t want them to give it away. Mark was actually helping me. His family has an orchard out near Elm Valley, with an outdoor pavilion that was really pretty nice. I was thinking about having it there so I drove over to see it after work. Unfortunately, the first time I went, it started raining, so I went back the next night. Mark said there was a spectacular sunset view, but I wanted to see it for myself.”

“That’s… that’s only two nights. What about the others?”

“It was only two nights, David. Maybe my excuses weren’t that great, but it was only two nights. The rest of them we spent together just like always.”

David lets himself really look at Patrick, who is looking right back at him. He seems, possibly, just as hurt and miserable as David feels. Maybe more.

“It seemed like more than two,” David says pathetically. “Why, um, why didn’t you tell me that sooner?”

“You blocked my number.”

It’s true. Not his most mature moment. “Oh.”

“I would have thought,” Patrick starts, and then shakes his head and presses his fingers to his mouth.

“What?”

“No, forget it. It’s history now, right?” Patrick tugs his ball cap down, shading his eyes.

“What were you going to say?”

Patrick wrings his hands together, then glances up at David and then back at his hands. “Just that, you know, in the context of everything we meant to each other, given that we were in love, and engaged, that you might have cut me a break and listened to me instead of jumping to such a ridiculous conclusion.”

“Ridiculous?” David scoffs, trying not to let Patrick’s all too valid words sink in. “Hardly. It’s no different than how every relationship I’ve been in has ended. I’m always left behind. Too much. I’m surprised we lasted as long as we did.”

“David.” Patrick grabs his hands, and David stiffens. “You were never too much for me. I’m not everyone else. And I didn’t leave you behind. You left me.”

David feels a rush of shame, and Patrick just squeezes his hands tighter. It’s not as if he’s never wondered if he hadn’t screwed up, leaving the way he did. He knows he probably did. It’s just that it’s striking him now how very likely it is that his misery has been almost entirely of his own making.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you don’t deserve to believe that I would do that to you.”

David tugs his hands out of Patrick’s. “Well, I’m sure you’re better off now anyway.”

“Not even a little.” Patrick’s voice is soft and sad, and David can’t help meeting his eyes. What he sees is devastating. “Sure, I dated for a while, once I was able to get out of bed, but I gave it up after a few disasters. You spoiled me for anyone else.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Maybe it’s just that my heart was so thoroughly broken, no ordinary guy had a chance.” The silence stretches, and then Patrick says, his voice thready, “How about you?”

There’s a catch in his voice, but something in his tone makes David’s heart skip a beat. It’s an opening he never expected.

“I never met anyone else either. Didn’t even try.” David clears his throat and looks up, catching Patrick’s gaze. For all the fear he’s shown in the past, for all that his insecurities ruined them, David feels like he owes Patrick a moment of bravery. “There was no point, not when I’m still in love with you.”

Patrick stares at him, eyes wide, and then abruptly stands up. “Save my seat,” he says, and strides away, hands clenched in fists at his sides.

“Well, maybe now I get can some sleep,” the rude kid with the beanie grumbles, and David barely restrains himself from throwing something at him.

“We’re having a moment, here,” David says.

“Might go better if you fucking apologized,” the kid replies, pulling his orange airline blanket up over his head.

“He’s got a point.” The woman on the other side of Patrick’s seat gives David a pointed look that would put Ronnie Lee to shame. “Sounds like you really messed up.”

“Who are you, anyway?” David snaps.

“Audrey. Nice to meet you, David,” the woman sasses back, tossing her short black hair.

“Oh my god.” David stands up, arms wrapped tight around his body, and scans the lobby for Patrick. “He probably just went to the bathroom. I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

“I hope for your sake you’re right,” Audrey replies. “But if you want to go look for him, I’ll keep an eye on your stuff. There’s no way I’m falling asleep in this place. Too noisy.”

David looks her up and down, and then decides he doesn’t care whether she steals his bag. There’s more at stake here than an aging laptop. “Thanks.”

He weaves his way through the seating area, stepping around families sleeping on the floor and people stretched out in every available space. He shudders to think about putting his face anywhere near the carpet and the plethora of germs that must live there. He’ll never be that tired.

There’s a food court around the corner, all the restaurants closed with metal gates drawn down. It’s darker here, and quiet. The scattered tables and chairs are mostly empty, the metal furniture not particularly conducive to sleeping.

Patrick’s standing in front of the Cinnabon.

“They open at 5,” he says, not looking at David. “Only four hours to go.”

“Good to know.” David moves closer, trying to see Patrick’s face, but between the dim lighting and the way Patrick keeps ducking his head, he can’t see much.

“Look, Patrick. I, um, I know it’s probably too late, but.” David leans his head back and blinks up at the ceiling. “I’m sorry. Truly sorry. I should have trusted you.”

Patrick shrugs. “Yeah. You should have.”

David sucks on his lip, not sure where to go from here. “Maybe we could talk about it?” This sounds like torture, but he doesn’t see too many other options, and they’re already in hell.

Patrick nods, and David tries to tell himself that this is a good sign. He spots a nearby open table and reaches to pull Patrick towards it, but he has barely grasped Patrick’s arm when he flinches and pulls away.

“Patrick?” David moves closer. Patrick’s eyes are squeezed together in pain.

“Patrick, wait, are you hurt? What’s wrong?” David’s hands flutter towards Patrick’s shoulders, afraid to cause further distress.

“No, sorry, I’m fine, it’s nothing,” Patrick turns away, but now David sees how stiffy he’s holding himself, how the puffiness in his face probably isn’t just due to airport overheating. All of David’s anger and hurt flow out of him, replaced by an urgent concern. Something isn’t right.

“Patrick,” David says, as calmly as he can. “Come sit down with me?”

Patrick glances at him and nods, and lets David lead them over to a table.

They sit next to each other, Patrick’s whole body radiating discomfort. David forces himself to wait, to breathe. To give Patrick a moment. “Sweetheart,” he says finally, the endearment purposeful and honest, “what happened?”

Patrick takes in a long breath and lets it out. “I was attacked.” He’s speaking softly but steadily, his gaze fixed straight ahead. “Three nights ago, coming out of a bar with my cousin Jamie. He’s only nineteen-” Patrick’s voice breaks and he sucks in air, then goes on. “He wasn’t hurt, thank god. He got away. But I-” Patrick huffs a bitter laugh. “I got a little banged up.”

Patrick turns towards David, sliding his hoodie off of his head and removing his hat. There’s a dark purple bruise on his temple, and a bandage running from the top right corner of his forehead back to his ear.

“Oh my god, Patrick,” David reaches for him, then stops himself. “Where – where else, I don’t want to hurt you-”

“Couple of broken ribs, bruises,” Patrick indicates his right side and upper arm. “Eight stitches my on head.”

“Come here, come here,” David can’t help himself, he walks his fingers onto Patrick’s shoulders and eases him in. Patrick sags into the embrace, his face nestling into that space against David’s neck that used to belong only to him. “I’m so sorry, Patrick, I’m so sorry.” David holds him gently, rubbing his back with careful strokes. He feels like his heart is going to burst. Patrick sniffles into David’s neck, trying not to cry, and David circles his arms around him. “I’ve got you,” David soothes. “You’re okay.”

David doesn’t ever want to let Patrick go, but after a minute or so Patrick starts to pull back, and David has no choice. He lets his fingers skim down Patrick’s arms as he straightens up.

“Thank you, David,” Patrick says into the awkward silence.

“Yeah, well. After screwing everything else up, seems like the least I can do.” David looks around and stands up, rubbing his hands on his thighs. “Shall we go back and make sure Audrey hasn’t stolen our bags?”

“Who’s Audrey?”

David can’t help but stay near Patrick as they make their way to their seats, his hand on the small of his back. Patrick lets him, leaning into his side, a hundred and eighty degree reversal from where they were an hour ago.

He can’t imagine what Patrick is feeling. Despite all the crap David has gone through in his life, he’s never been the victim of a what he assumes was a hate crime. And the fact that Patrick is traveling by himself… where was he when he got assaulted? Who was there for him?

You should have been there, David’s guilty mind supplies. If David hadn’t ruined their lives with his self-doubt, he would have been there for Patrick. For better or for worse. Of course, if they were still together, nothing like this would have happened to Patrick in the first place, because they would have been safe in Schitt’s Creek where they belonged.

They arrange themselves in their miraculously still empty seats, David pulling the orange blanket up over them both. He holds out his arm and Patrick leans into him, resting his head on his shoulder. Patrick’s seated to his right, so it’s his uninjured left side up against David.

The feel of Patrick’s body against his is so familiar and yet it’s been so long, it makes David want to cry. Instead he gently curls himself protectively around Patrick’s body and closes his eyes.

Patrick turns into him, his arm going around David’s waist and his face pressing against his neck. “Missed you,” he whispers into David’s skin.

“You too,” David sighs into Patrick’s hair. “So much, Patrick. So much.”

David dozes for a while and eventually falls asleep, waking only when the PA system starts making incomprehensible flight announcements. Patrick is already awake, leaning forward and digging around in his backpack.

David blinks blearily at him as he remembers the events of the night before. It seems like a dream, but Patrick is right there in front of him, solid and real. He glances up at the clock on the wall. Five-fifteen. “Wanna get a Cinnabon?” he asks, his voice scratchy. It’s not the best line he could have come up with, but he figures Patrick must be hungry too.

“No, sorry, they said my flight’s here. I have to go to the gate.”

David suddenly feels faint. “What – no – that’s impossible. The first flight to Toronto isn’t until eight something, they put me on the earliest one, that’s what they told me at the desk-”

“David.” Patrick’s eyes are heavy and sad. “I’m not going to Toronto.”

“But you said-” He didn’t say, David realizes. He just assumed they were both on their way back home.

“It happened in Toronto,” Patrick says, not needing to identify what “it” he’s referring to as he tugs the hood of his sweatshirt over his ball cap. “I decided I needed to get away for a while. Put some distance between me and all that.”

David’s heart is pounding hard in his chest. It’s a wonder Patrick can’t hear it. “Where are you going?”

“Florida. My parents bought a little house there, they use it in the winter but not until after Christmas, so it’s empty now.” Patrick sighs and hoists his backpack up, wincing. “It’s been really good to see you, David.”

Patrick gives David a sad little smile, and starts walking away.

There’s a moment when David actually imagines letting Patrick go, and he wants to slap himself silly.

“Patrick, wait.” He scrambles to grab his bag and jogs after him. “Let me come with you.”

Patrick looks puzzled as they join the line of bleary-eyed people waiting to take off their shoes and slide their belongings through the scanner. “Okay, but once you go through you won’t be able to get to the food court.”

“No, Patrick – I mean to Florida.”

“You hate Florida,” Patrick replies automatically.

“That is entirely besides the point.”

“You can’t come with me. You have a life, David.”

“Patrick, I don’t. Not one I want. Not without you.”

This gets Patrick’s attention, and he steps out of the line. “What are you talking about?

David moves towards him, his whole body trembling. “I am so, so sorry I messed things up between us. I know how badly I hurt you. I have changed, though, I’ve been in therapy for real, and I’ll do whatever it takes…” He sucks in a breath and races on before Patrick can interrupt. “I will regret it forever, what I did to you, and it’s probably unforgivable. But if – if you think it’s not, if you think maybe you could give me another chance, please, let me come with you.”

“David…”

“I won’t give up on us again. And I don’t… I don’t want to say goodbye. Not yet.” David can feel his throat tightening up. “Not if there’s any possibility… Let’s try. On whatever terms you want, for however long. Please.”

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” But Patrick’s eyes are saying what his words aren’t, and David holds his gaze, hope building in his chest.

“I think it’s the only decent idea I’ve had in years.” David reaches out and twines his index finger around Patrick’s, a single point of contact holding them together. “I bet we can find someplace to go hiking in Florida. With lots of bugs, and, um, maybe alligators?”

Patrick’s eyes flicker down to their hands, and back up to David. “You’d face alligators for me?”

“Yes.”

“And bugs too?”

David feels his heart leap, and he struggles not to smile. “Yes. I will face a reasonable number of bugs for you.” He takes a deep breath. “It doesn’t have to mean we’re together, you don’t have to commit to anything-”

“What if I want to?”

David pulls Patrick’s hand up and presses it tight against his chest. “Then I’m not going to argue with you,” David says breathlessly.

“That would be a first,” Patrick says, and David chokes out a laugh.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

They crash together lips first, David’s arms going around Patrick’s shoulders and Patrick’s hands grabbing at David’s hips. David can’t get enough, and apparently neither can Patrick, mouths open and tongues tasting in a mad rush. It’s sloppy and ridiculous and David is going to remember it for the rest of his life. When they finally come up for air, they realize that everyone in the security line is cheering and clapping, and David rests his forehead against Patrick’s.

“They’re taking video, aren’t they,” David says.

“Hashtag ‘one night in Milwaukee,’” Audrey hoots at them as she takes off her boots and sets them in a plastic bin. “Glad you got your head out of your ass, David.”

“Me too,” says Patrick, herding David back towards the screening line. “Just promise me one thing.”

David searches Patrick’s face, but he’s smiling, and he can’t help a matching smile from stretching his own cheeks. “Anything.”

“Pretty sure our flight’s going to be packed. I get the window seat.”

#David x Patrick #Schitt's Creek #Schitt's Creek fic #Hurt/Comfort #David Rose #Patrick Brewer

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twomanyideas · 4 years ago

Text

The Search for the Supreme Scent

Fan art used with permission from @x-thekid A Collaboration by @mdelpin and @oryu404 with @x-thekid

Fairy Tail Reverse Bang 2020 Pairing: Gray x Natsu AO3 | Ch 1 | Next: Ch 2

Summary: Natsu has decided he’s lived with his feelings for Gray long enough. It was one thing when he thought that Gray and Juvia were together, but now that he knows differently, he refuses to wake up one morning only to find that it's too late.

When Erza forces the two of them to do a job, he discovers it's just the opportunity he needs.

0-0

This is our entry for the Fairy Tail Reverse Bang, which was a really fun event hosted by @ftguildevents.

We were lucky enough to be paired with @x-thekid who is the wonderful artist behind this fan art. You can see her post here. Please take a moment to let her know how much you liked her art!

A few notes:

This story touches upon three in-game quests - Isosceles or Love Triangle (Juvia Character Story), Monster Outbreak from the Very Difficult Requests Set DLC, and The Search for the Supreme Scent (Ichiya Character Story).

This AU has elements of Fairy Tail canon, game canon, as well as game elements we have attempted to incorporate into the story. An example of this is duels, which is an in-game mechanism and not at all as dramatic as Gray might make them sound. ;)

In the game all the playable characters are always at Fairy Tail, this includes Jellal, Ichiya, Kagura, Sting, Rogue, Lyon and Chelia.

We had a lot of fun working on this story and we hope you enjoy it! It is four chapters long and we will post a chapter daily until it is done.

Chapter 1

Natsu entered the newly restored Fairy Tail Guild in his usual manner, kicking the door open and announcing his presence.

“I’m back!”

Only a few people looked up from what they were doing, accustomed as they were to his loud entrances.

“Morning Natsu,” Lucy greeted from her spot at their team table.

“Oh, hey Lucy,” Natsu walked over to the table, plopping down across from her while Happy went off searching for the other Exceeds.

“Are you taking a job with the slayers today, or are we going on a team job?” Lucy asked, and from the look on her face, he could tell which answer she was hoping for.

“No rent money again?” he asked with a knowing smile.

“I’ve been going on a few requests with Levy and the others, but the jobs they take don’t tend to pay as much,” she explained quickly. “Although,” she teased, “there’s definitely a lot less destruction.”

Natsu chuckled. He certainly couldn’t say the same of the jobs he’d been going on. He was bad enough on his own, but adding Sting and Gajeel to the equation, it soon grew beyond anything he could have imagined.

“Sorry, Sting and Rogue should be here any minute.”

“Oh well, I’m sure I’ll figure something out,” Lucy began, but her voice was drowned out somewhat unexpectedly.

“For the last time. NO,” Gray’s yells cut through all conversations, and everyone turned to see what was happening. “I don’t want to go on another job with you!”

Gray stood by the request board, holding a flyer in his hand. His mouth was set in a hard line, but his fingers moved ever closer to the hem of his shirt, which Natsu knew meant he was anxious. Juvia stood next to him, leaving barely any space between them, as she usually did. Her eyes filled with tears at Gray’s tone, her gaze imploring him to change his mind, but it seemed for once the ice mage was determined not to back down.

Natsu heard the murmurs start, and given the things that were being said, he hoped Gray wasn’t able to.

“But Gray-sama, we make a perfect team,” Juvia pleaded, still determined to get her way, “Our magics are compatible, and Juvia can protect you better than anyone.”

“I don’t need protecting,” Gray scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. “What I need is a partner who can keep their head on the job, and not on me.”

“Juvia can do that!” Juvia exclaimed, utterly oblivious to the rebuke. Her tears disappeared, and in her excitement, she grabbed on to Gray’s arm.

Gray shook himself free from her grasp and took a step back. “I said, NO,” he repeated firmly.

The guild’s murmurs only grew louder and more disapproving of Gray as Juvia once again began to cry, running off towards one of the rear exits that led to the pool. Many heads turned to follow her, some even sparing sympathetic looks, but no one offered to check on her, and after a few awkward seconds, Gajeel sighed and stepped up to the task. Natsu couldn’t help but feel bad for his rival, although his mind was swimming from what he’d just seen. Gray, however, seemed to have had enough. One second he was there, the next he was gone, and all that could be heard was the sound of the heavy guild doors slamming shut.

Natsu was as shocked as everyone else. Gray had always had a temper. He knew that better than anyone, but it was unlike him to lash out at any of the girls.

“What was that about?” he asked Lucy, who, like Mira, usually knew just about everything that went on in the guild.

Lucy peered at the guild doors thoughtfully and shrugged, “I guess she finally pushed too hard.”

“I thought he liked going on jobs with her,” Natsu commented, his brows furrowing in confusion when Lucy began to laugh.

“You really have been gone a lot, haven’t you?”

“What do you mean?” he frowned, not liking that there was something about Gray he didn’t know.

“All I know is last week he practically begged me to go on a job with the two of them,” Lucy confided, “I thought Juvia was going to find a way to stab me with her eyes. It was so awkward.”

She glanced around the guild to make sure no one was paying any attention to them before revealing, “He looked miserable too. And the sad thing was when I asked him why he wanted me there,” Lucy paused, looking pained by her next words, “He said he didn’t feel like his body was safe around her.”

Natsu tried to come up with some sort of retort but found he couldn’t focus on anything but the maelstrom of emotions brewing inside him at hearing those words. On the one hand, he was cautiously hopeful that maybe Gajeel had been right when he’d told him he was reading too much into Gray’s relationship with Juvia. But that was short-lived. It was soon replaced by an increasing fury at the idea of Gray feeling that way about someone in their guild- the one place where they should all feel safe. “Aren’t Cana’s drinks great?” Erza commented as she joined them at the table, holding a mug full of some strawberry smelling concoction, and saving Natsu from having to come up with a reply.

“They sure are,” Lucy agreed, seeming just as relieved to change the subject. “Just the thing before going on a job.”

His two friends continued talking about some of the other upgrades they had added to the guild while Natsu struggled to control himself. He could understand being angry on Gray’s behalf, but this rage flowing through him seemed excessive, and it disturbed him.

Gray had always been able to take care of himself. He didn’t need protection from anyone, least of all him. Natsu tried to take part in the conversation around him when Juvia happened to walk past him. The hair on the back of his neck rose, and to his great shock, he found himself growling at her, his fists balled and ready to attack. Juvia gaped at him before hurrying away from their table.

Lucy glanced at him curiously while Erza’s eyes narrowed at the display. Natsu could already tell he was in for it, and he wasn’t disappointed when he felt the sharp sting of her fist connecting with his head.

“For goodness sake, pull yourself together, Natsu! Is that what you slayers do on these jobs, act like wild animals?”

“Of course not!” he complained, rubbing his head, even as he tried to figure out what the hell had just happened.

“Did we miss something?” Sting Eucliffe asked as he promptly shoved Natsu further into the booth to make room for him and Rogue. “We saw Gray as we came in. He looks pissed.”

Natsu shrugged in reply, not wanting to get into what had happened.

“Are Gajeel and Wendy here yet?” Rogue asked, looking around the guild for the other slayers.

Natsu could tell the moment Gray reentered the guild, not just by the surge of his familiar scent but also by the whispers. When the ice mage took his seat at their table, Natsu made sure to look down at the tabletop so that Gray wouldn’t be able to see his face, just in case it betrayed his feelings.

Natsu could feel the guild’s temperature drop a few degrees as soon as Gray noticed Sting and Rogue. “Great, you two are here again.”

“Gray!” Erza scolded, “Is that any way to talk to our friends?”

Gray covered his eyes with his hand in what Natsu recognized as a futile attempt to control himself. A few moments later, he fixed his gaze on Natsu and scoffed, “So I’m guessing you’re going off with them again today?”

Natsu nodded, not trusting his words not to anger Gray further when he was so clearly holding on by a tenuous thread.

“When you talked to us about this, you said this shit was only going to be once a week,” Gray reminded him.

“I haven’t been gone that often,” Natsu protested, even though he knew it was certainly more than they had initially planned. “I don’t hear anyone else complaining.”

“Oh, believe me, we’ve all done plenty of complaining. You just haven’t been around to hear it. Lucy can’t make her rent from the jobs she can manage on her own.”

“If you’re so worried about Lucy, why don’t you go on a job with her?” Natsu challenged.

“Hey!” Lucy snapped, “Leave me out of this.”

“That’s not the point, and you know it,” Gray pinched the bridge of his nose, “Ugh, you’re giving me a headache.”

“What’s the matter, Princess?” Natsu goaded, “You miss me?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth, Flame Brain. You’re neglecting your friends- our team- to go off to play with the other dragon slayers.” To make matters worse, Sting decided to butt into the conversation. “Nah, we’re not playing! We’re, uh...pushing each other to get stronger!” he grinned, casually resting his elbow on Natsu’s shoulder. “You know, similar magic and all that.”

“Oh God,” Rogue hid his face behind his hand, looking ready to slide underneath the table.

“Did you just say I’m weak?” Gray spat furiously.

“Huh? Where did you get that from?”

“Just shut up, you’re only making things worse,” Natsu scolded his friend.

“Natsu! You can’t talk to Sabertooth’s Guild Master like that!” Erza berated, horrified by his words.

“What?! He doesn’t care!”

“That’s it!” Gray pounded his fist on the table, “I challenge you to a duel!”

If looks could kill, Sting would have dropped dead that very second.

“Yes, that’s a great idea!” Lyon exclaimed, suddenly appearing next to Gray. “If Sting wins, Natsu and Wendy can go to Sabertooth. And if you win, they can stay in Fairy Tail!” “Not this crap again!” Gray scowled at his foster brother. “Where the hell did you even come from? And why are you people here all the time?!” he complained, raising his hands in disbelief at all the non-Fairy Tail mages lounging around. “Don’t you have your own guilds?”

“I don’t see what your problem is, “ Lyon shrugged, “seems to me like it would fix everything.”

“Oh, hell no, I do not agree to that,” Natsu chimed in, “I love you guys, but I am a Fairy Tail wizard.”

“What the hell, Flame Brain, are you implying I’m going to lose to him?” Gray scoffed, looking offended, although Natsu thought he caught a glimpse of hurt in the ice mage’s expression for a moment.

“What?! I didn’t say that!” Natsu objected, but Gray refused to look at him.

“Who even said we wanted you?” Rogue pointed out, even though it was evident that Sting’s eyes were already lit up at the idea of a challenge.

“ENOUGH!” Erza shrieked, and when they continued to bicker despite her outburst, she muttered, “I’m surrounded by complete idiots!”

She watched them for another minute, looking from one wizard to the next. She grabbed Natsu and Gray by the collar, swiftly realizing they were the only two she could do anything about. Knocking their heads together, she managed to shut up Sting, Rogue, and Lyon, who could only stare at her in shock.

“They’re all insane,” Rogue muttered under his breath, but thankfully Sting was the only one to hear him.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Carla wanted to stop at the market and-,” Wendy stopped mid-sentence, marking the unnatural quiet at a table filled with people known for their loudness. She peered closer, noticing Natsu and Gray glaring at each other and sporting two large bumps on their heads. “Did I miss something?”

She moved over to their side of the table, calling on her magic to heal them, although this didn’t seem to ease their hostility in the slightest.

Thankfully the awkwardness was interrupted by Master Makarov making his way over to the stage.

“Settle down brats, I have an announcement to make,” Makarov yelled from the stage, waiting for a few minutes until he was sure he had everyone’s attention. Peering at the faces that were now intent on him, he remarked cheerfully, “Oh good, I see many of our friends are here! This concerns you too.”

“Do you know what this is about, Erza?” Lucy whispered, but Erza only shook her head.

“We have been through a lot in the last couple of years. All of you have shown courage and skill far beyond your years, and I am incredibly proud of you.” Makarov beamed.

“Now, about eight years ago, we were rudely interrupted in the middle of one of our time-honored traditions, and I, for one, think it’s time we finish what we started.”

“S-Class Trials?” Natsu and Gray chorused eagerly.

“Indeed!” Makarov confirmed with a wide grin, “When I informed the Council of my intentions, they asked that I open the testing up to the other guilds since we currently have the best setup for it. For that reason, the rules have changed a bit.”

“There will be no nominations this time. As far as I’m concerned, you have all more than proven yourselves, so anyone who feels ready is welcome to participate. Teams can have up to five members and may include wizards from different guilds. You may ask one S-Class Wizard to be part of your team if you wish. Any team that completes every exam phase successfully will see all its members promoted to S-Class. The exam will once again take place on Tenrou Island."

“That’s all I have for now. I will have more details on the test itself once I have spoken to the other Guild Masters,” Makarov peered down at Sting and Rogue with a smile. “Master Sting, am I right to assume you and Rogue will be participating?”

"Of course we are!" Sting was almost glowing with excitement, and even Rogue gave an eager nod.

“Alright then, we’ll figure out a way to keep you in the loop so you can pass the information along to the rest of your guild,” Makarov informed him, “We’ll talk about it later.”

Sting nodded in agreement, and Makarov turned his attention back to the others, “ I want you all to think about whether you will take part in the exam or not. I firmly believe you’re all capable of this, but only you can decide if you’re up to it. I’ll need your response by the end of the week, along with a list of your team members.”

With that, Makarov walked off the stage and made his way over to Cana’s bar, climbing onto a stool and ordering a drink. Everyone began to talk all at once, the guild’s noise rising to almost unbearable proportions for the dragon slayers.

Natsu couldn’t contain his excitement any more than the others; he would finally become S-Class! Something he and Gray had dreamed of doing from the moment Erza had joined their ranks so many years ago. He looked towards where Gray had been sitting just a few minutes earlier, only to find the seat empty.

#fairy tail #ftrbb2020 #gratsu #ft game au #ftlgbtales #Fairy Tail Reverse Bang 2020 #collaborations #fics #dragon slayers #natsu #gray #humor #light angst #inspired by the fairy tail game

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saharamae21 · 5 years ago

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Never Ran Smooth (Part 7)

__________________________________________________

Give me your hands, if we be friends,

JJ’s POV:

After hours of blaring music and yelling, my dad had finally passed out. This is why Savannah can never get involved with me. I would tear her down to my level. I would just ruin her life. I winced in pain as I brushed against the bruises my dad had given me and roughly packed a bag. I needed to get out of here. As I slipped past my dad on the couch, a wave of rage overcame me. I can’t do this anymore. He makes me miserable. He’s given me nothing. He’s the reason I’m worthless. I shook as I pulled out the gun and aimed right at his sleeping body. I felt tears well up in my eyes and moved away quickly, shoving the gun back into my bag. In the end, he was still my father.

When I got to John B’s there was someone already there. They watched the house from a car as we slipped into the Pogue and took off.

“First, I almost get strangled to death by Kooks,”I started. “and now I'm on the hook for 30 grand. We should just dip.”

“Okay, where do you wanna go? Hm?” John asked with a hint of annoyance.

“Yucatan,” I said, earning a laugh from the boy. “No, I'm dead serious right now. Surf all day, and then we can just live off lobsters we catch with our bare hands.”

“You just wanna leave 'cause you got your ass beat?” he asked, rolling his eyes. No. Maybe if I just left, Sav would be better off. Maybe if I left, my dad would get his shit together. Maybe if I left, everyone around me would get by a little easier. Not only that, maybe if we left I could save John B from becoming like the two guys who were fed to the sharks.

“You didn't see the photos,” I mumbled.

“Think about it. They're willing to kill for the gold,” John B paused. “then it's gotta be out there.”

“One hundred years, people have been tryin' to find this Royal Merchant,” I said raising my voice. “and no one succeeded. And you think you are gonna be the one that actually finds it? When will you get it in your thick skull? If you keep goin' down this road, you're gonna end up just like your dad!”

I felt him shove me. I saw the anger on his face. I watched as he began to struggle with his own thoughts and actions.

“I can't give up, JJ!” he screamed back at me. “The last time I saw that dude, we got in an argument, and then he took all of our rent money and dipped for this Royal Merchant. And then I told him he was a shit father. and you know how the rest of the story goes.”

“Bro, that wasn't your fault,” I said softly. I just wanted him to stop blaming himself for this.

“It doesn't matter whose fault it is, JJ!” he yelled. “Do you not understand that? I can't give up on the hunt, man. I don't care who's out there, who's gonna try to kill us. Do you understand that? I can’t just leave. I get you think you have nothing here JJ, but that isn’t true. What about Pope and Kie? What about Savannah?” I cringed when he said her name. I remember the look on her face when I told her we would never happen. She deserves more than me.

“What would Savannah do if you just left one day JJ?” he asked me. I avoided his gaze. I felt guilt well up in me as I imagined her looking for me. “When are you going to stop thinking you're bad for her and realize how good she is for you?”

His words burned me. They sat in the back of my mind for the rest of the day. I had made my decision to prevent her from being hurt by my lifestyle. Now night was upon us and the Midsummers event was in full force. I was dressed the nicest I’ve ever looked as we pulled the boat up to the dock of the hotel.

“Okay, look, I need you to get this to Sarah,” John told me.

“Ooh! Can I read it?” I asked, already sneaking a peak. “Hold up. Are you mackin' Sarah Cameron?”

“Would you shut up?” he asked, clearly embarrassed. This new information made my stomach churn. He was macking on a Kook and I couldn’t even accept the fact that I might like one.

In the end, I agreed to be his little messenger and sneak into Midsummers. I made it into the backyard and admired the decorations Sav had thought about. She really had a talent when it came to picking out things that sparkled. Then my eyes landed on her. She looked radiant and fresh like the decorations themselves. She was beautiful from head to toe and every single part of me wanted to go up to her and ask her to dance, but then my eyes found their ways to hers. There was her black eye. The one she had gotten while trying to protect me. The guilt began to overwhelm me. Where there was me, there was bruising and hurt, and she wasn’t an exception to that rule. I was a danger to her.

“Hey!” Pope yelled. Thank you for interrupting my thoughts.

“Dude, don't sneak up on me like that right now,” I said awkwardly as he embraced me. “Whoa. Unexpected PDA there, Dr. Spock.”

He looked so distressed, but it made me happy to know he was okay. “But, uh... hey, love you, too, man,” I said while placing a quick kiss on his cheek.

“Did Shoupe do that?” he asked, motioning to my face.

“Oh, this? No. This is-- It's my dad. You know? Has that right jab,” I said jokingly. I didn’t want him to worry. “Can really snap it off at times. It's nothin' that hasn't happened before.”

I explained that we were going to be rich. I explained that John had a plan. And most of all I explained to him that nothing that happened to me was his fault. I smiled as I left him to do his job and went back to the mission of finding Sarah Cameron. As I dodged my way through the crowds I found Sarah dancing with her little sister. I awkwardly slipped her the note and tried to get out of there as quickly as I could, but felt a hand grab mine. It was soft and warm and I knew exactly whose it was before turning around.

“Are you okay…?” her voice was shaky. Princess.

“I’m fine,” I said as I turned around. I heard her gasp and instantly her hand was on my face. I winced in pain and pushed her hand away. She muttered an apology, worry filling her eyes.

“Who did this to you?” she asked. I saw a single tear slip down her cheek. I wanted to reach forward and wipe it away, but at this moment she seemed a million miles away from me.

“Don’t worry about it,” I scoffed. She wasn’t going to let this go though. I opened my mouth to give her an explanation, but was interrupted by the last person I wanted to see.

“I'm wonderin' if you could get me a mai tai, my friend,” Rafe’s voice rang out.

“Grow up Rafe,” Sav said, defending me no matter what.

“You guys look spiffy,” I joked. “You know, uh, I got a couple of orders ahead of you, so why don't you guys just go ahead and wait by the bar?”

“No, we're going…” Rafe started. “help yourselves to hors d'oeuvres.”

Then a guy I didn’t know spoke up. I had seen him around a few times, but never once has he picked a fight with me.

“Guys, JJ's gonna serve us some hors d'oeuvres,” he smirked, but not at me. He was looking past me, right at Savannah. I saw the anger on her face.

“That’s enough Jasper,” she said, her hands balled into fists. “Leave him alone.”

“I'll be right back, okay?” I said. I was going to do anything to get Sav out of this situation before it got ugly. But then they followed me. I ran through the hotel and into the locker room. I sighed and tried to find a place to hide, but there was nowhere to run. Next thing I know, I’m being escorted out by security. At this point I might as well make a scene.

“It's okay, everybody! Do not panic. Leave it to the men and women in uniform,” I yelled as I looked up. My eyes met Savannah’s dad’s who looked disgusted by my actions. It was too late to go back now though. “Let's hear it for them. Rose! You look like Lady Liberty.”

My eyes once again fell on Savannah, who laughed at my joke. She looked like she was building up courage for something. I hated when I was right.

“Let go of him!” she yelled. I watched as she ran up to where I was. “You can't boot him! I invited him here. I'm a member of this club.”

“Savannah!” her dad yelled and marched down to where she was. Kie and Pope followed shortly after. When her dad finally made it to her, he grabbed her arm roughly. She pushed him away and then a sound echoed through the silence. If this wasn’t a scene before, it certainly was now. Nicolas Stryker had just struck his daughter in the middle of Midsummers. “You will not embarrass this family anymore.”

I knelt down beside her, expecting her to be in full tears like at the movies. Yet, there were no tears. No emotion was in her eyes as my fingers guided along her cheek. She pushed my hand away and got up, looking at Kie, Pope and I.

“C’mon…” she said quietly. “You guys have somewhere to be right?”

I grabbed her wrist, making her come with us. The only thought going through my head was: I have to get her out of here. I have to make sure she’s okay.

“If you leave, don’t bother coming home,” he dad muttered after her, but she kept walking. I held her wrist tightly and just kept my face forward, not checking on her in the slightest. If I looked at her, I would be filled with rage at everyone. Is this how rich kids were treated too?

The rain was whipping through the air as we drove to the lighthouse. Kie was arguing back and forth with John B over the Sarah Cameron predicament, but Pope and I focused our attention on Sav. She sat silently, staring out the window even though we weren’t moving anymore. Her knees were hugged into her chest and there was no emotion on her face. I felt Pope nudge me and gesture towards her. I gave him a look as if saying no, but there was no arguing with him at this moment. Finally giving in, I went and sat next to her. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything though. She just sat there unfazed by me. I slowly reached up and moved a piece of hair from her face. God, she is so beautiful. Unable to make the words come out, I just pushed her head to lean on my shoulder. “You don’t need to force yourself,” she mumbled and leaned her head back up.

“I’m not,” I said and placed her head down once again. “I’m just trying to be a good friend.”

She kept her head there and closed her eyes, squeezing them tightly like she was going to cry. I felt her wrap her arms around my neck. Her hot breath against my neck made my heart pound.

“Just let me stay like this for a second,” she whispered, pain echoing inside her voice. She clung to me as if she needed me by her side. What she needed was love and if I gave her that, only bad things would follow. Instead of loving her, I reassured her everything was going to be alright, but even that must have been too close, because John B almost died less than an hour later.

___________________________________________________________

Tag List : @jjmaybangme

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jay-cult · 4 years ago

Text

Static and Stars: Episode 1 - Jay Day

Index

Jay and Nya haven’t been on a date in like... ever. So when they finally do go out on their own, some unexpected memories catch up with them.

AUTHOR’S NOTES: Hey guys! At long last, S&S continues. I hope it hypes you up just like it does me! I was planning this for OC Day when I realized that it actually didn’t have any of my OCs in it (yet) so I’m happy to throw it out now. This episode is quite guiltily Jaya-centered but PLEASE understand that it will be the only one. I laid out my plan for this fan season and I liked it, so I’m following through with having it kick off like this. This is a Jay fan season. Not a Jaya fan season. Thank you!

A patronizing BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! rang out beside Jay.

He groaned and sat up, hair messily flying all over his face. He slammed his hand onto where the sound was coming from, but found he slapped the smooth surface of his phone. He let out another grunt while the alarm was still judging him.

He shot out a small current through his fingertips and the beeping stopped. Right… he forgot. They weren’t in the Bounty anymore.

Jay climbed out of his sleeping bag and looked to his right, where Kai, who had just awoken, was trying to quickly rearrange his bed hair. Further past him, Cole was still sound asleep.

Kai noticed that he was still as a rock and, mid-hair-fixation, kicked him hard.

“Ow! Dad! Fine, I’ll get ready for dance practice-“ Cole jerked awake and then looked at Kai scorningly.

“This sucks,” Kai groaned. He plunged his arms into his “hygiene” kit and pulled out a hairbrush, some cologne, and a bit of blush fell out.

Jay stood up (while making sure his plushie stayed safely tucked in his sleeping bag) and smiled. “Aw come on guys, it’s not that bad!” He said, stretching.

“Whatever you say,” Cole sighed, tying his hair up in a bun.

In full pajamas, Jay exited the tent. Outside it was full sunlight, with shadows of leaves dappling the ground. He gazed at Ninjago City in the distance; it looked so much quieter from the outskirts.

Zane was already outside making a meal for breakfast. He slept outside. Jay didn’t see the appeal, but he said that it was better for him to be out with the stars and one with the (mild) wilderness.

“Good morning, Jay.” He smiled with ease. “You should really wash those gloves.”

He took a look at his hands. “Funny coming from you, ya barely change your clothes,” he playfully argued, knowing already it was a useless excuse. Zane sat there in full gi wear and looked up.

“I do not have the rather disgusting human body which pollutes cloth,” he responded simply.

“Any updates on how the monastery is going?” Jay asked, changing the subject.

“Indeed!” He flipped a pancake with a spatula. There was a whole contraption set up so that Zane could do his thing, even outside. “I have been notified that it is going smoothly.”

Jay nodded. He sat on a cushioned log. “I’m still so glad it’s over.”

“The First Realm was certainly a tiring event.”

“Yeah, and Garmadon… that fight was insane, huh?” Jay scratched his head. He was grateful that even with this makeshift living situation, they could rest.

“You don’t even know the half of it.”

The two ninja looked up. Nya was strutting toward them, tying up her hair casually. Unlike Jay, she had already gotten dressed.

“Nya!” Jay brightened up, even more energized from the sight of his girlfriend. The morning sun made her look quite phenomenal. She sat down by him, very close, physically. Zane’s (literal) inner timer dinged, and he stood up. “Breakfast is ready!”

At that moment both Kai and Cole rushed out of the tent, still very unready. Kai’s hair was half-done, his arm through just one sleeve of his jacket, and he was still pulling up his pants. Cole had yet to do much. He was just running out with his pajama pants on, and… that was it.

“What were you guys doing?” Jay asked.

“Shut up,” Kai said immediately, his eyes suddenly very focused on the pancakes that were now out and ready.

They all sat in their eating area on the cushioned logs in their circle beside Zane’s cooking tools and contraptions. It was a very average day, at least, for one where they had to camp together without a strong shelter and where they had nobody to fight anymore. But there were obviously some things missing.

Nya turned to Jay. “Well,” she shrugged, “Lloyd and Wu are off on their things.”

“As they have been for a while, making their own camp in Misako’s space,” Kai interjected, eyes narrowed. “Meanwhile we have to make it out here, in the wild, the cold-”

She ignored him. “And we have nothing going on, finally. So.. well… we haven’t really done much recently. And you were off in the realm for…. A while.”

Jay swallowed a chunk of bacon. “Right! How long exactly has it been since we’ve done something, just you and me, that didn’t involve snake venom or the fate of the world?”

She looked at her paper plate of food, thinking. “Like. Never?”

“Yeah.” He chewed more, a bit unbelieving. They’d only ever done fun things with at least one person from the team or when a villain was on their tail. Or if it was work or training.

“We have never really had a normal date, like, at all, have we?” She looked straight at him, making her point.

“Okay, today is perfect!” Jay finished the last of his meal happily.

“Alright, you guys, calm down,” Kai stood up, smirking. “I know that must mean you’re all very new to this, so if you’d like to ask the master-”

And then Cole just straight up picked Kai up. He just yoinked him from off the ground and slung him over his shoulder. He turned toward the pair, genuinely smiling. “Hahah, he’s one to talk. Come on buddy.” As he carried him back to the tent, Kai let out yells of protest, but it was nothing against Cole’s strong hold.

Zane smiled. “You enjoyed your meal, I hope?”

“Breakfast was great, Zane,” Nya commented, laughing.

“I guess this means we’ll finally have a day all to ourselves,” Jay winked, standing up. “I’ll devote this day to being Nya Day.”

She winked back. “And I, Jay Day.”

“Let me just go put on my clothes first.”

The wind of the mountains blew fresh through the couple’s hair. Jay had dug through his bag to try and salvage what he could of the nicest clothes in there and had just barely scraped out a clean look. He’d stepped back outside, surprised to find Nya in a brand new, somewhat formal outfit.

“Oh,” she had said, reddening a bit. “Maybe I should go get that other stuff back on.”

“No! No,” he’d interjected immediately. “You look really nice.”

Now they were climbing down the rocky side of a steep mountain that led down to Ninjago City from their camp. Or, well, they weren’t exactly- their hybrid elemental dragon guided them down slowly, walking so as to not be easily detected.

“Where are we going?” Jay asked from his spot behind Nya, who had the reins.

She glanced at her boyfriend quickly with a sly smile. “You’ll see.”

Jay grinned and kept his silence for a little while. But inside his thoughts were racing quite a bit. He felt tense and nervous- and not because of the date. It was all so familiar. Too familiar. Sitting behind Nya, holding onto her... the feeling of the dragon’s spine beneath him and the thrum, thrum of what was the dragon walking but what his brain turned into the panicked beat of wings. His thoughts wandered through that old experience and he wanted it to stop. But he decided not to say anything.

At the edge of the city they, to Jay’s relief, put away the use of their dragon and grabbed a ride from a surprisingly mellow fan who was happy to provide service to the “folks who’d saved the city’s ass more than once.” Nya whispered the destination into his ear and he chuckled. “Well y’all enjoy your time, n’.”

“Shut your eyes, boltbrain,” Nya pleaded, trying to hold back a laugh.

“I wanna see, though,” Jay whined with a smile, trying to swat her hands away. She was reaching from her spot in the passenger seat of the car.

He (eventually) complied and they stepped out onto what felt like some concrete. Jay heard the car drive away.

“Okay,” Nya giggled, sounding slightly embarrassed. “You can look.”

Light flew into his eyes as he shot them open. He blinked a few times and observed the building in front of him. It was a fairly average-looking concrete building on the outside, but the windows were plastered with 80s-themed patterns, stickers, and paint. He gazed up at the sign that marked the building, which read in bright neon letters, “Ninjago Roller Rink.”

He turned to his girlfriend with a shy smirk. “Nya, what is this?”

“Okay, okay, so. It looks a bit run down. But I remember that you were into roller skating as a kid. So I just thought-“

He pulled her into a tight hug, his excitement growing. “This is awesome! Let’s go!”

He tried to rush to the door, but Nya got there first and held it open for him. “Ladies first,” she said.

“Ha-ha,” he joked, unable to hide his grin. They stepped confidently into the building.

The floor, cheap carpet with an 80s pattern, stretched out beneath them. There were party tables all around them, broken up by counters on the side of the right wall selling the snacks and roller blades. And on their left down a ramp, in all its glory, was the large wooden rink with a disco ball hanging above it. Popular 80s music played but it was barely heard among the conversations of the many people in the building.

The couple got stares as they entered, but they were too excited to care too much. They rented their skates and set off towards the rink.

They stepped out onto the floor and the rink suddenly cleared. Bunches of people crowded around the edges to watch two ninja in fancy clothes do normal people stuff.

While Jay eased on Nya stepped on immediately, and almost fell to the floor but grabbed hold of the edge just in time. She looked surprised.

“You’ve never done this before, huh?” Jay questioned, sympathetic.

She shook her head, blushing. “I didn’t know it was that difficult.”

“Well it’s not, once you learn. Here, let me show you.” He held out his hand.

She grunted but took hold of it.

A scene flashed in Jay’s brain. He was forced to remember. The rooftops of the tall, wide building of the city stretched before him, and he felt a feeling of dread, the intrusive thought that this was where it started. He dropped her hand suddenly.

“Jay? Are you okay?” Nya asked, worried.

He took her hand again quickly. “Yeah,” he lied. “Just a little nervous, I guess.”

He took her along the walls of the rink, guiding her with his words. But all the while, he was wondering what had happened. It’s not like it was the first time they’d held hands, of course. So why get so heavily reminded of that now? He was fooling himself. He knew the answer. None of the other ninja were around. Just like… he shook his head. No, stop Jay, you’re literally on a date, he told himself.

They were eventually off of the walls together, rolling slowly and steadily around the rink. Since it was empty, there was no need to go in the required circles, so they freely went where was best.

“Alright,” he said gently. “I’m gonna let go now.”

She looked at him, panicked. “Wait! Don’t!”

Jay gave her a serious look. “I’m going to, okay? Are you ready?”

She paused for a second and then nodded.

“You sure?”

She nodded again.

“Go!”

With a gasp from the crowds, they let go together and Nya rolled ahead. She picked up her pace as they cheered, feeling confident, and then promptly lost her balance and fell down in a tangle of girl, skates and kimono.

“Nya!”

She punched the ground. “This is never going to work!”

Jay frowned. “Don’t say that, you’re doing real good! Look,” he brightened up a bit, “next time I’ll wait until you really want to do it yourself.”

Reluctantly, she nodded, and took his outstretched hand again. As he pulled her up the music turned to a certain kind of song. An incredibly sappy, incredibly overly fitting song.

“Oh.” As Jay scratched the back of his head, getting all red, the crowds murmured in wondrous anticipation. He looked around and saw the guy behind the counter put his phone down with a wink. “I guess this isn’t really what you expected,” he told her nervously.

“It’s cool,” she shrugged, smiling. “Besides, I wanna show you off.”

He chuckled. “I wanna show me off, too.”

And then it became perfect.

Nya picked up the skating incredibly quickly and was able to do very well by herself after just a few seconds. They rejoined at certain points and laughed. When he caught gazes from the crowd, Jay did some age-old skating tricks from way back, rousing several cheers. He always looked back at Nya wherever she was, who was always sporting a proud smile. It was foolish. It was childish. It was fantastic.

But their finish wasn’t as strong at all.

They met up towards the end of the song and started to feel something deep in the memories of their bones. Deep in their roller dance, they didn’t think and posed in a way they’d done before- in a fight. Like an instinct of feel-good thrill, they posed, and Jay suddenly gripped his head and fell to the floor.

It was dark and they were on top of a shining tower. Maybe they might’ve been able to hear the sounds of the black ocean, just maybe, if not for the cries and shouts of leader-blinded, bloodthirsty pirates. They were back to back, their swords drawn, fighting off the swarms of their enemies that no longer even existed within their realm. Jay thought of the lighthouse and this time he couldn’t stop.

“Jay!” Nya gasped, and the crowd let out shouts of concern. He was brought back to reality with their noise- somehow not hers. He was breathing heavily, still on the dirty wooden floor.

“I can’t…” he was almost okay when the music switched to something that bored into his brain. He’d never heard it before but it was saying things that couldn’t be unheard.

“We’re alone together, in a familiar place.”

He couldn’t stand it.

“Waves beat upon the rocks and moonbeams shine upon your face.”

It was pop and terrible but it still existed, and as Jay continued to fall in and out of reality he felt himself being hoisted from the floor by someone strong. “Let’s get you some water… ‘SM, this music… c’mon, Jay…”

Nya was leading him out of the rink and back onto the carpet, and in her hold he found himself back in the roller rink’s building- but not completely. She sat him down at one of the tables and left him staring at the ground for a moment. When she returned she put an opened bottle of chilled water right in front of him, and wearily, he took a few sips.

A teenage girl from the crowds, who were now mostly filtering back onto the roller rink, shuffled up to them shyly. “Is the blue ninja okay?” She asked.

“Yes,” Nya snapped, which quickly sent the girl scuttling away.

“Better?” She asked, her voice edged with worry. Jay nodded. She sighed, smiling in relief. “That’s good.”

“Oh, but I ruined it…” he groaned, staring at the top of the table.

“Ruined what?” She asked, confused.

“Our date…”

Nya gave his hair a ruffle. “No ya didn’t. Let’s go talk about this over some lunch.”

Twenty minutes later they were ordering their favorite dishes from Chen’s Noodle House. They sat along the edge of the kitchen and a familiar face decided to pop into their conversation.

“I think I know what happened,” Nya answered after said familiar face asked.

“Oh, what then?” Pushed Skylor, leaning in.

“I just can’t get it out of my brain. Now that we decided to do something on our own, I guess,” Jay frowned, feeling absolutely terrible.

“What?”

“It’s difficult to explain,” Nya said quickly, before Skylor delved too deep into speculation.

The redhead left for a brief moment to grab their food, and returned looking excited for a tale.

Jay picked around at his noodles. “You’re not gonna believe me, but it’s a different timeline. That only Nya and I remember, I think. It involves a lot of evil pirates, and everyone being trapped in a sword, and Ninjago being in the sky. You were part of my ninja replacements,” Skylor gave him a weird look as he was mid sentence, “and Nya even…”

He paused and dropped his chopsticks back in the tub. Nya stopped eating suddenly, and looked down, feeling sick.

“Nya what?”

“Nothing important,” Nya said, trying to force another bite of food into her mouth.

“Well, hm,” said Skylor, looking a little put off, “sounds like you guys need to somehow sort this out.”

“Yeah,” Jay stared at his food. “I know. You’re right. We have to stop pretending like it never happened. We have to think about it. Sort out all the lost… stuff from it.” He reached into a pocket to pull out his wallet, but Nya was there first, holding her card out to Skylor with a smile.

She shook her head. “Today’s on me, ya crazy lovebirds. I just hope things are okay for you from now on.”

“Thanks,” said Jay with an exasperated sigh. “You’re a life-saver, Skylor.”

“Well, where do we start, then?” Nya asked when Skylor left them, looking at Jay with some nervousness.

He narrowed his eyes and gave one of his eyes a rub. “The lighthouse.”

#ninjago #ninjago fan season #fanseason #jaya #jay walker #nya smith #static and stars #kai smith #cole brookstone #zane julien #skylor chen

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