Johnny Cage x Reader

Twenty-Five

"I can't believe I woke up for this...", you muttered, your chin rested in the palm of your hand and rubbed your eyes with the other.

"Not a fan of lectures, I see.", with a grin, Johnny bumped into you with his shoulder.

"Neither are you."

He yawned, sucked in a deep breath and held it until his cheeks were all puffy. With a soft groan he shook his head and hoovered closer to you.

You could feel the warmth of his body next to yours, how broad he was. As firm as a rock at shore.

Tiredness crept into your eyes. The things that Johnny made you feel were so strong that you felt like you could just let yourself fall into it and sleep all your problems away.

It was hard enough to take care of a legacy you didn't want. But what made it worse was the fact that on the way to fulfilling that legacy, there was nothing that felt sustainable.

Every day was the same. You had to listen to the same teachings over and over again. And nothing ever came of it.

The only thing you knew for certain was that Liu Kang's monks weren't particularly keen on teaching anyone how to fight.

It was always about balance and equilibrium.

It irritated you to hear so many empty words. Your whole life consisted of them, you didn't need any more.

Grumbling, you pinched Johnny's side to humour yourself. Startled, he flinched and tried to fight back. You caught his hand. A playful fight arouse, his fingers entwined with yours and each of you tried to wrestle for the upper hand.

One of the monks cleared his throat.

Startled, both of you separated to pretend like nothing had happened.

Kenshi threw a glance back over his shoulder. It was a warning.

"He's a little scary.", you muttered into Johnny's direction.

Although you were all more different than you could have been, time had made you friendly with each other.

Kung Lao and Raiden had been friends before, but that hadn't changed the fact that they had become good mates. Only Kenshi was still making it harder than it had to be to break his ice.

"Some people just make it difficult for themselves.", Johnny shrugged.

Grinning, he let himself fall onto his side and rested his head in his lap. It was beginning to be a habit of his to sleep in class. Preferably in your lap.

Sighing, you shook your head, but let him do it and lifted your hand so he could lie down properly. The familiar weight pressed down on your thigh.

Your fingers immediately found his forehead to tickle the surface. With a snort, he playfully pushed your hand away. Fingers twisted in his hair, brown strands tickling your palm.

"Wake me up when September ends...", he whispered, already half asleep.

"You won't learn anything.", you chirped teasingly, a smirk on your lips.

He grumbled in agreement. Then his head tilted and his nose bumped against your stomach. It almost seemed as if he wanted to press his face into the warmth of your body.

Your fingernails lightly scratched the back of his head. It wasn't long before soft, even breaths sounded from your lap and Johnny had fallen asleep, one hand on his chest and the other on your knee.

Your heart was pounding in your chest. Somehow this was nice. It wouldn't be a pity if it stayed that way forever.

A sigh rolled from your lips. The warmth of Johnny made you tired too.

At the front of the table, the monk who was supposed to teach you magic and anything out of the ordinary that had to do with Outworld cleared his throat.

Torn from your slumber, you blinked and looked up.

"Listen.", the monk scolded with a raised finger. "This is important."

Bored, you frowned.

"Isn't that always the case?", you muttered sarcastically.

The Netherrealm is no joke, he insisted. It's like hell.

"Hell is not real."

"The Netherrealm is. So be careful. It's full of demons."

"Those are not real either."

The monk pulled a face with dissatisfaction.

"Be happy if reality doesn't convince you otherwise.", he said and turned back to his lessons.

"Finally!", you groaned and stretched all your limbs towards the sunlight.

Johnny yawned tiredly. Some sleep still hung in the corners of his eyes. You wiped it away with a gentle smile.

"Hey...", he murmured, grinning tiredly.

His skin felt so soft under your fingers. Almost as if he was twenty years younger than he actually was.

"What's your skin care routine?", you asked.

"Hm?", he blinked away the last bit of tiredness. "Hollywood magic."

He smirked.

"Suuuure.", chuckling, you rose from the steps to get closer to Raiden.

He was busy chatting with Kung Lao.

"That is NOT a good idea.", Raiden mentioned while pointing at a hat that was made of metal that Kung Lao held in his hands.

Sharp blades adored it all around, peaking out from the brim just far enough to make it look like one huge murder flower.

"It is genius, Raiden. Next time we see Sub-Zero, I will have to thank him for inspiring it.", Kung Lao let his fingers run along the curved blades only to be cut within a second. "Ow!"

"See? It won't be effective."

Ready to demonstrate his perfect invention, Kung Lao tilted his head and threw the hat like a frisbee. With surprising aerodynamics, it sailed through the air in a smooth arc and decapitated one of the wooden training dolls as if it had been moulded from butter.

The remains, split in two, fell to the ground with a dull thud. Kung caught his hat out of the air and twirled it on his finger. A satisfied expression appeared on his face. He put on his hat.

"Maybe it's too effective...", Raiden considered with a kind of impressed, kind of doubting expression.

"Ho-ly shit.", you chuckled with a glance at Kung Lao's newest piece of weapon as you joined in on the conversation. "That should be considered a war crime."

"And you?", Kung Lao asked with a smug smirk. "Just fighting bare hands?"

"Always.", you crossed both arms in front of your chest. "I like violence the good old fashioned way."