Request: Person A: Is that a knife in your shoulder? Person B: Or maybe, I’m just happy to see you ;) Person A: Nope, that’s a knife Person B: But I am happy to see you With Jason as person A please by@jadedhillon
“I’m coming over” His voice was raggy, tired and pained. Sometimes you wondered if that was just Jason’s voice, that mixture of pain and grunting, but a soft chuckle leaves your lips as you proceed to answer.
“Are you trying to get laid again?”
“Oh yeah. You better have these luscious… medical kits open wide and waiting for me when I come” his tone sarcastic, and so deep, as if he was indeed sweet talking you.
“I’m waiting.” You smiled through your phone before you hung it up, feeling a warmth spreading inside of you. You were excited over Jason’s arrival even if it was for the usual patching up you’d do for him almost everyday. You couldn’t deny your feelings for him and you were convinced he must be feeling something for you too and somehow it didn’t bother you that you couldn’t be together yet. You hash made your reasons clear to eachother after the big confession.
It didn’t take long for him to arrive; he burst through your window in less than ten minutes after the call he had made you.
Your eyes widened in shock as you laid them on his form. A knife was decorating his shoulder as blood was seeping through his leather jacket.
“My God. Jason, is that a knife on your shoulder?” You cried out, hurrying to his side.
“Ot, maybe I’m just happy to see you?” He clicked his tongue in disapproval. Hoping that you’d get the sass in his tone.
“How rude” he muttered under his breath, yet somehow you heard him perfectly.
“I’m not rude Jason. That’s a knife.”
The look of sadness in your eyes forced Jason to throw his teasing mood away. He could see how worried and scared you were. As he hated himself for that.
“But, I’m indeed happy to see you (y/n)! I’ve missed you” his voice is softer than a whisper and you know it’s not from the pain he’s into. He’s not doing it to conceal it either. He knows he can be himself around you. He knows that he doesn’t have to play it strong when you’re around.
You proceed to sit him on a chair, but eventually you decide your kitchen doesn’t have enough lighting. And so your bathroom is the best solution. You know you can’t take the jacket off without taking the knife first, but you’re fully aware that once you pull it you have to keep his clothes off fast as hell.
“Do you have a spare costume?”
“Ten of them.”
“Great, now hold your breath” you order and before he has any time to realise it, the knife is off his shoulder and a loud scream escapes his lips.
“Fucking hell! Are you trying to kill me woman?” He growled, completely giving I ti the pain that run hot and white through his shoulder.
“I’m sorry. I love you. Help me get your clothes out”
“Always trying to get me out of my clothes huh?” He joked, with a pained smirk in his face. Even if he didn’t want to move his hand, to make the pain worse, he couldn’t find it in himself to say no to anything, especially when you’d ask so nicely.
You peeled his jacket of, in the most sensitive way you could master, as to not hurt his already hurt arm. Grabbing the scissors from the medical kit ( you of course had a pair of scissors in your -one of your ten- medical kits, God knows how many times you had to cut through his clothes because he couldn’t get them off.) you proceeded to cut the upper part of his costume in half, both in backward and forwards, to make sure it’d get off more easily and less painfully.
In seconds, you had cleaned his wound with alcohol, to which he oddly didn’t protest. He was in great pain you figured, or else he’d have the nerves the protest. You had only seen him like that a couple of times. Yet, you knew, that in the morning he’d brush it off, saying he’d been through worse.
After many grunts and hisses coming from the hurt man, you grabbed the needle that was already loaded with the stitching thread. Of course it always had to be loaded. You never knew when he’d call or how many stitched he’d need. And you knew from experience that trying to fit a thread through a needle as your hands shook wasn’t the best idea.
You lowered yourself by bending your knees a little, to allow your face to get closer to his shoulder. Jason hissed, as the needle pierced his skin and brought it together. He swore to himself he’d never, ever, get used to it.
“Please Jay stay awake.”
“I wasn’t planning on sleeping, princess” He teased, knowing fully well that he’d lose control of his actions.
But there was something, something in the way you looked at him. Your (e/c) filled with affection and worry. And love. Mostly love. And he couldn’t deny it. Because he himself, had confessed too. And he hated to push you away when he wanted you so close.
He watched, astonished, from over his shoulder as you worked on the wound with quick and skilled movements.
He wondered if he could keep his hands -hand- away from you. You were tempting, your love was tempting and even if he wanted to sink into that well of utter love and promised affection, a relationship with you would grant your death. Even this current involvement could hurt you. His heart was aching at the thought of you getting hurt or killed because of him.
And you had your reasons too. He kept reminding himself. You hated that he wouldn’t care of himself or getting hurt to protect this city. Hell you were right. This city had a hundred other protectors, so why would he ever bother anymore? It pained him that you thought that he put the city before you. Because that was the truth. How could he be in a relationship with you when he’d have to ignore your needs for the city’s.
He wasn’t even the right guy for you. He pained you when he told you about his death. He pained you when he called you to take care of him. He pained you all the time. And as to why you still loved him, he didn’t have an answer. He wasn’t enough for you, he couldn’t give you the love you needed.
And most of all, relationships were troublesome and if you two broke up you’d lose eachother.
What a pitiful epiphany of a reason.
Jason fell down to earth from his cloud of thought as he felt your lips kissing close to where his wound was.
Your hands massaged slowly on his back and neck as moans escaped him.
“You’re tense Jay.”
“Let’s fuck everybody and get together.” He burst out, not even caring about your latest statement. He didn’t care if you’d say no, although he hoped you’d say yes. “Come on!” He pleaded with you, feeling as if he had just word vomited from his anxiety.
“Yes. Oh God, yes” you yelped and pulled him onto his feet so you could hide yourself deep in his strong arms and naked chest. “Please I need this more than anything”
It came out of your mouth in a tone, lower that even a whisper, while you felt s few tears escaping your eyes and splattering on his warm skin.
“I love you.” Jason muttered, planting a kiss at the top of your hair, which made you look up to him.
“I love you too” you smiled, as his fingers wiped the tears away from the corners of your eyes “please promise me you’ll never come here with a knife in your body. Ever again!”
After going through my hard drive that I luckily saved after my old PC decided to resigned I found some shots of the Pro Staff R Magic FD3S which competed in 2010 WTAC. Driven by
Mitsuhiro Kinoshita it has managed 1:33.5050 lap time wich was close to three seconds
( +0:02.9180 ) more than the overall best (1:30.5870) of Cyber EVO driven by “Tarzan” Yamada. This car also managed to get 55,947 lap time at Rev Speed Super Lab Battle at Tsukuba in 2006 and has been retired in the same year if I’m not mistaken due to the R Magic’s main focus on drift cars. Prior to the 2010 WTAC in Sydney, the car has gone through some major changes mainly on the engine and body. Fully rebuilt racing engine now had the power output around 600hp and aerodynamics were improved by new dry carbon wide body aero kit. Chassis was of course improved as well. I had no idea(and I still don’t) what I was doing with the camera so please don’t be too harsh :)