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gaiuswrites · 3 years

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King of Cups || Chapter 7

Chapter 7: The Fool

Archive: ao3 | masterlist | six

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Summary: It all spills over.

Word count: 8.8k~

Rating: Explicit

Warnings/tags: SMUT (WE MADE IT FOLKS), thigh riding, fingering/hand job, very brief breathplay/choking, cum eating¿? Angst/emo shit (I'm so sorry i have no self control)

Notes: HI FRIENDS, wow it's been a minute. Sorry for the massive delay. For anyone wishing to start KOC, now would be the perfectly spicy chapter to do so! This chapter was Herculean. idk why. Love you guys, enjoy! x (gif credit : @djarinsgf)

“Maker,” you bemoan, shielding your face from the heavy beat of the suns.

You’ve known warmth—you were raised in warmth. This is beyond it.

It’s not just warm, it’s sweltering. The heat is oppressive, congealing the air to mist; you can barely see through it what with the sweat running into your eyes. Tall, craggy dunes line the valley of desert, trapping the planet’s hot pulse within their walls. Your steps crunch along the dry, pebbled earth as you swat at the gnats buzzing in ribbons around your head.

A muffled gurgle sounds from behind you and you slow to a halt, boots gritting into the cracked top soil.

“You doing alright back there, Munch?” you ask, craning your head to the child nestled into the carrier fashioned onto your back. A green ear pokes free from the top, and you can see the jewel of his black eyes peering at you through the gauzy cloth you draped over it. He grunts, and you give a small shrug—shifting the pack by the straps, eliciting a giggle out of him. “We can always turn back, okay? I’m not going to be mad.” Another noise, a happy coo this time, and you shimmy your shoulders again, jostling the bag playfully.

“Well, you just let me know.”

Your conversations usually unfold this way. They leave much to be desired, but you’d like to think you understand one another—in fact, you probably understand the kid more than you understand his dad.

You’ve grown close with him, you’ll be the first to admit it. You’re attached to each other. The little one has been your constant companion for these months and in some ways, you suppose he takes care of you just the same as you take care of him. The chamber of space can be lonely; it’s cold and unkindly reflective, stranding you to the echoed chain of your thoughts—but when he tugs at your hair or slobbers spittle down the front of him or crawls up into your lap to nestle into your tunic, it feels like you belong there—there on the Crest, streaming through the galaxy.

And maybe, simply, it feels good to do right by a child—as if you could make up for it somehow, within yourself. To do better than you were given.

Squinting, you raise your wrist to check the coordinates on your comm and shade a hand over the screen, blocking the glare cast onto the display. “Almost there,” you mumble, resuming your stride as you begin the last leg of the trek to the settlement you and Mando discussed that morning.

“What?” he asked, planted some paces away from you.

You hummed a curious note, glancing to him.

“What is it?”

You were trying to be small all morning—shrunken and shy, avoiding the thought and avoiding him all together. You quieted yourself, as if to not take up space, but the attempt was fruitless; of course he picked up on it – you get good at reading people on the job, he’d said – and of course he called you out on your behavior. You took a big gulp of your caf, gaze flickering down—increasingly more and more invested in the scuffs marked into the table you sat at.

“Dala,” he said pointedly, arms folding over the breadth of his chest.

Shit. Who did you think you were fooling? Playing possum with a Mandalorian?

Worrying your lip, you stood. You couldn’t bear to look up at him, just looming there across the table from you, so you paced around the deck as you rambled. “Okay, so you know how I’m still connected to the RRM channels? Well, I’ve been checking the message boards and I—there’s a settlement here out in the Wastes. It’s small and new and they’re looking for volunteers and—”

You whistled in a breath. Fuck it.

“And I want to help.”

Like the toggle of a switch, you went from having a career—having a purpose—to having nothing. And all your gratitude for the transport he’s offering couldn’t fill that empty lull that’s settled inside you.

“Would you be comfortable with letting me take the kid? I know I’m probably asking a lot—and I will fully respect whatever you decide—but I can keep him by me the whole time, I swear, I just—” You shook your head, pinching your eyes shut before sighing, “I need to be doing something. Anything.”

There was a long pause. You scratched at the torn skin around your cuticle, nervously searching the pitch of his wordless visor. He didn’t move a muscle. He didn’t even twitch.

“That’s fine,” he finally remarked, graveled.

You blinked, taken aback at his agreement, and all at once your fidgeting ceased and a bright grin broke out over your features in its place.

It nearly brought him to his knees.

“Wait, seriously?” you asked, bouncing on the balls of your feet and he nodded, a subtle tilt to his helm. “Maker, thank you,” you exclaimed, and without thinking you flew towards him, flinging your arms around his neck and sealing yourself to his armored frame. His arms escaped out from his chest in surprise, suspended and stiff, before falling measuredly to his sides. You could’ve been imagining it, but you swore you heard the distinct grit of his teeth grinding together under his helmet.

“Really Mando,” you beamed, pulling back to lay your eyes on him, to let him see the earnest there: you have no idea how much this means to me. “Thank you.”

You gave his shoulders a squeeze, thumbs brushing along the scratchy fabric of his cape before tearing yourself away. Swiping up your mug of caf, you wound down the corridor - airy, buoyant - back to your makeshift quarters to prepare for your outing. It took him another minute just to get his damn feet to move from the spot on the durasteel you welded him to.

Din told you to be safe.

You smiled, and promised you would.

You left the Crest before him and it was strange, surreal. For the first time, you stood in each other’s shoes, leaving Din there on his own while you set off into the world. He watched you go—you and his boy—watched you walk away into some great unknown without him.

And he didn’t like it.

He soured, somewhere in the deep of him—within that pit he called a gut, he twisted sick.

Your feet hit the ramp, dull and tinny, and it sounded like goodbye—it sounded like you leaving. It’s what it will look like when time and fate touch, and inevitability catches up with him. It’s what it will look like when he takes you home. You’ll walk out of his life, down that same ramp, and your steps will echo those same beats. You won’t look back.

And Din, with all his strength, all his unshakeable resolve—Din will let you go.

///

The encampment is settled into the shadow of a cliffside, seeking respite there from the blazing suns, the taupe of the canvas shanties camouflaging into the arid landscape. Some crawl their gaze up as you enter the village, and you offer them smiles they do not return. Others do not acknowledge your presence at all— unstirred as your footsteps sound past, their heads bound heavy towards the earth. It’s not long before a decisive voice cuts through the hush that’s claimed the settlement.

“Are you with the RRM?”

You turn and are greeted by a woman ducking out of a tent—the grey of her woven tunic browned with sand, heat collecting in her black, coiled hair.

“Yes, I’m with the Movement.” It’s not a total lie. Sure, you’re on leave, but that doesn’t discount you completely. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

With a sharp exhale like a prayer of relief, she makes her way towards you. “Where’s the rest of your division?” Her eyes narrow discerningly, flitting behind you as if expecting to spot the rear of your party trickling in.

“It’s, uh—it’s just me,” you confess, pressing your lips together in a thin smile.

She rakes a hand over her hair, over her face. The skin around her knuckles is split, the beds of her nails chalked with days of unwashed grime. “Alright,” she concedes begrudgingly, without any better option presented. “And who is this?” She nods to the child, emerging from the pack and staring curiously at her.

“This is—” You take a moment to consider it—consider the secrecy around the child, the bounties, the life on the lam. Less is more, you decide. Again, it’s not a total lie. “I’m babysitting.”

The kid grunts an emphatic patu.

You both share a look—a quirk of her dark brow, an apologetic heft of your shoulder—and she sighs. “Well, I’ll take all the help I can get,” she quips dryly with a wave of her hand, leading you into the settlement.

///

She’s coarse, this woman—Arlaani, she told you—matronly and effective. She has a calculating gaze and powerful shoulders that she holds steady as she shows you through the camp. There are lines around her eyes, carved into the curves of her mouth. She knows what you know—what all women learn: sometimes you must be hard in order to keep others soft.

You walk shoulder to shoulder, matching her long strides with your own.

“The Black Sun has taken the southern hemisphere; their numbers have only grown since the Battle of Yavin. Pirates, mercenaries, spice runners—they’ve ransacked one half of the planet and have the officials of the other half in their pocket,” she scowls. “They have stolen our land, our homes—we’re moisture farmers, mechanics, mothers and fathers. We are simple people and we have been forgotten by our government—by those who vowed to represent us, protect us.” Arlaani draws in a long breath. “We’re on our own out here in the Wastes.”

You survey the area; the lifeless ocean of rock and sand, the few scattered trees that have died on their feet—roots withering bone dry in the suns. “Why settle here if it’s so uninhabitable?”

She huffs a humorless laugh. “Because, it’s uninhabitable,” Arlaani explains. “No one robs a beggar. There is nothing in the Wastes the Black Sun wants.”

There are no buildings, no structures; the whole area is undeveloped and raw. Tents are dotted sporadically in clusters, crates of supplies and water canteens stationed every other one. Children dawdle idly, tired and overheated, leaning against boxes and posts—their bellies distended and skin parched taut. Flies land on their shins, on their cheeks. They do not go to shoo them away.

“The Movement supplied those for us when we landed,” she comments, nodding to the crates. “That was two months ago.”

“No one has come back to check on you since?” you ask, brows notching together.

She shakes her head solemnly, jaw set rigid. “Our little ones go hungry, our elders are sick with red fever. We will run out of water before the week is through,” Arlaani says before she turns to you, holding your gaze—the seriousness evident in the stone of her eyes. “I thank the gods you are here.” She presses a palm to your shoulder. You feel the weight of it, the weight of her—of the lives she carries on her back.

“I thank the gods.”

///

You stop by each tent delivering what little food and medicine you brought with you from the Crest, and after each encounter—the people so grateful, so weary—your mind strays further and further to Mando.

Din, you scold yourself. Not Mando, Din. Din Djarin.

You still can’t bring yourself to say it.

He spent that whole fateful day nearly two weeks ago bristling at the very sight of you, going out of his way to limp to the other side of the ship just to ignore you better, only to do you in for one final head spin and give you his name.

Two weeks, and you still haven’t said it. There’s no other excuse: plainly - pitifully - you’re scared. You’re scared he regrets it.

Because how horrible of a truth would it be? To be offered something out of carelessness or guilt; to be the product of pity, or even worse, a mistake that cannot be unmade, cannot be rectified. He can’t take his name back, can’t unspeak it any more than you can unhear it, and this fear, picking at you like an old scab—it’s so painfully human, so terribly universal:

what if I’m not worth it?

And isn’t it easier to neglect the answer, then it is to ask the question.

So you’ve buried his name for both of your sakes, keeping it somewhere secret and private, there to garner dust in the quiet of your mind.

You’re brushing through the draped entrance of a tent when you spot him: a small boy hiding behind a supply crate, the top of his dusted head poking out over the ledge. You catch him peering at you, and he ducks down shyly. A honeyed grin blooms across your face.

“I think we’re being watched Munch,” you coo. The little ball of robes blinks up at you from your arms, earning his nickname tenfold as he crams his mouth with a flakey cracker. “You want to say hi?” He hums in response and you crouch, letting him wiggle free from you to toddle over to the other child. With small steps, he eventually makes it over to the other and immediately, without hesitation or provocation, extends one of his crackers to him.

Your heart swells until it bursts, proud and beautiful in your chest.

Munch leads him out from behind the box, the two boys shuffling slowly through the dirt back to you. He can’t quite meet your eyes—his gaze lands somewhere around your chin, your collarbone, and you fold forward, bent at the knees to meet his height.

“Do you have a name, sweetheart?” you ask kindly.

He nods, nibbling quietly on the cracker, and you breathe out a chuckle. “Not much of a talker, huh? I can respect that,” you say, eyes crinkling fondly with a smile. “Well if you want to tell me, you can—or not. That’s okay, too.”

He nods again, and you fish out more salty treats from the sleeve in your pack, gently handing them to the other—a gesture he nervously accepts, dirty fingers trembling as he plucks them from your open palm. This boy is precious—sweet faced and cherubic, he must not be a cycle over the age of seven.

And the realization comes so suddenly that it blindsides you—struck by it, there between your lungs: Din was his age when it happened—when life happened to him. When this could have happened to him.

You can’t help but think of it—think of him and everything he told you that night he came bleeding through the Razor Crest. You can’t stop imagining him; Din as a little boy tucked away, his people—his parents—decimated overhead. He is a Mandalorian by proxy. Displaced from his home, from his past, saved by a sect with an affinity for orphans—to protect those who cannot protect themselves. The irony of it all is not lost on you:

Din is a refugee too.

You see him in this boy, and in all the faces here—in every set of eyes, young and old alike. Each are individual - idiosyncratic - but they each wear the same qualifiers. The same exhaustion. They each fight the same tired battle, leaving them with identical sets of marks.

Does Din? If you were to see him, truly see him, would you find them there? You’ve seen the scars he’s earned from being a Mandalorian.

You wonder if he has any from simply being a man.

Pushing yourself to stand upright, you cradle Munch back into your chest, his teensy claws riddling your shirt, and offer the boy your hand—outstretched in front of you.

He’s cautious. Too cautious for a boy so young, for a child who should know nothing but abundant love and fearless imagination. He shouldn’t have had to learn this lesson: that some hands should not be taken, that some people should not be trusted. He studies you, hesitant but hopeful, and you smile softly—cycles of hard-won patience and empathy curving the corners of your lips.

He lays his small hand in your own. You walk on together.

///

The day blows by like hot desert wind, chafing at your skin. Minutes have ripened to hours—morning has crawled to midday.

The three of you finish your rounds— distributing rations throughout the camp, pitching tents, taking stock of the dwindling supplies for you to relay to the Movement once you return to the Crest and have access to your holopad.

It’s then that you notice Arlaani again. She’s speaking in hushed tones with another man, the both of them hunched over a large carton. You see the concern ticked clearly along the man’s jaw, the dread grooved into her brow, her crossed arms. With a frown, you plop the child down onto a nearby petrified log and the other boy joins, hopping up next to him, all too happy to get off his feet. You tell them not to wander off— a kiss to Munch’s forehead, a ruffle of the boy’s hair— before making your way to the couple.

“Hey,” you call, jogging over. “Is everything alright?”

Arlaani wheels around as you approach. It hasn’t been long since you’ve seen her, but somehow she looks older. Hollowed, drained— like there’s less and less in her. “It’s the water,” she grits out, “sand mites have gotten to the crates, to the canteens.” She tosses you one of the flasks. It’s littered with holes, porous and leaking— the remnants of water splashing out of the orifices bitten into the sides.

Arlaani dives through the crate, rifling through the supplies. She’s tense, upset, her voice is rife with it. “They’re all like this. Ruined, fucking—” She heaves out a hissed exhale and props herself up on the edge of the box, neck bowed between her shoulder blades. “This was the last of it, and now—now…”

The man tries his best - how do you comfort marble? - as he places an arm around her, his thumb drawing patterns there, reassuring and calm but she wants nothing of it; she gruffly shrugs it off as if stung, weaseling out of his hold. “I can’t— I need to think,” Arlaani bristles, as she paces away from the settlement, receding deeper into the Wastes.

“I’m sorry,” he stutters, “I have- I have to—” His eyes follow her shrinking form, worry apparent in the shape of them. It’s so obvious. He’s terrified of that woman—probably loves her, too.

“Go,” you say, and with a knowing expression, he turns and trots after her.

Heavy footed, heavy hearted, you trudge back to find the children exactly where you left them. Once there, you collapse to the hard ground, dust and dirt puffing up as you recline onto the log. Your palms run over the earth—scooping up sand and rock and letting it slip through the cracks of your fingers, gaze trained out onto the encampment—the people milling about, the miasma of helplessness stifling the air.

This isn’t enough. You’re not doing enough— these impermanent little nothings, your measly good deeds. It’s not going to matter. They’ll be bones by the time the next wave of volunteers rolls through. They’ll be grain.

You need to do something that lasts, that outlives you when you leave.

You glance over to the kid and his new friend, their little legs swinging off the edge of the trunk, heels thumping against the old wood. They look to you, two pairs of big eyes—crackers in their tiny fists.

“You boys ever dig a well?”

///|||///

The suns roast into his beskar, blistering him from the inside out.

The day has been long and it’s only half over. It took him longer than it should have to gather himself— his fob, his rifle, his fucking head—and depart the Crest. Longer than it should have to hunt the bounty here—some marauder scum who’s number is up and luck has run out. Longer than it should have to set up his sniper’s nest, sculpted into the mountainside.

Din is distracted, has been all day— has been since you left.

He can’t stop feeling you. Your warmth pushing against his chest, your arms looping around his neck, the heat of your palms searing through his flight suit. Din can smell you on him still— like citrus and moss, you cling to his cowl from where you buried your head.

It’s intolerable. It feels like an infection with how it’s been building, how this has spread— slowly but surely rearing to an unignorable head. Serpentine and insidious as it crept through him, this growing affliction— this morbid curiosity that spoiled like rotting stonefruit into infatuation— slipping along his bones and organs, blemishing Din in faint little licks— imperceptible to the naked eye but there all the same.

How did this happen? How did he become this?

You’ve been more relaxed now, bolder in some ways. Transparent. Sometimes, you’ll touch his arm as you walk by him or sweep your hair from your neck when you sit by his side in the cockpit, star shine on your jaw. You’re quick with a laugh, lips pulling back into a pretty grin. He’s even caught you staring at him, there out of the corner of his eye—from where he steals those same glances under the safety of his helm.

He spied you once, just a glimpse of your backside, padding quietly away from the shower with only your underwear on, drops of water tracking down your spine. It was brief, you were fast—you must have forgotten your shirt in your bunk—but he had to lock himself in his quarters and fuck his hand before he could even think about piloting the Crest into the stratosphere.

Din is a lot of things, but he isn’t daft. A part of him knows. A part of him is aware that you are two very human people with very human needs—and that you’ve been ignoring these primal aches with premeditated dereliction for months now.

And you can only dance around each other so long before one of you snaps.

And Maker, he’s so desperate to be rid of you—to get you out of his fucking system; to let him sleep without dreaming of you, to let him wake without plunging into his briefs and jerking himself off. You are everywhere. In his ship, in his galley, in his thoughts. He has no privacy, he has no sanctity— he has no idea how you have managed to worm yourself so deep into every living part of him. Others have tried and they have failed, and you— you did it in your sleep. From that very first fucking night, curled up in his chair, gore and ash stained tunic rising with your slumbered breathing. You snored.

You fucking snored.

And now you’re killing him— just as the suns above, you are blistering him from the inside out.

His level-headedness has all but evaporated. He’s peeved. Not only is Din distracted, but he's angry— has been since he plodded up this damn hill, waiting for his quarry to pass through the ravine between the valley of mountains—because instead of performing his job, he’s consumed with you. All of you.

He kneels, flattening himself against the rocky sand— your hands, so small and soft against him— and unclips the rifle from the strap on his back—how good you’d feel on his skin—he aligns his sights— the weight of your breasts in his palms—

His helmeted head clunks to the ground and he loses his aim, a frustrated growl emanating out from him. Focus, Mando. Fucking focus.

Din reorients his crosshair, training it on the gang of pirates in the gorge below. They lean haphazardly over their speeders, their cargo nets packed full with different wares and spices, jeering loudly and chugging from the jugs of spotchka they undoubtedly looted earlier that afternoon. He inspects the rabble, searching for his target and—those pretty lips that smile so easy for him, stretched around his length.

Fuck. He pinches his eyes shut.

You whispering husky into his ear as you ride him, you bent over the pilot’s chair begging for his cock, you sprawled out over the deck while he laps at your sweet cunt.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck— he can’t do this. He can’t fucking do this. You’re everywhere everywhere everywhere— you buffer his vision, his senses, his sight. He’s blinded with you. You’re blinding him.

With an infuriated heave he shoves himself off the ridge of the dune, bounty-less, and reverses his course back to the Crest—heart beating furious and bloody against his ribs.

///

The settlers surround the trench, peering down at you as you work. Hours ago, when you originally proposed this idea to Arlaani, they insisted on helping— to which of course, you insisted they didn’t. And so they watch— the refugees, Din’s foundling, the nameless boy— mangling their hands restlessly, animated with an inkling of that all too lethal substance long sought after by those of all species and creeds: hope.

You sink the shovel into the dry earth and your muscles burn with the effort—the skin on your palms stings from the rough grate of the wooden dowel and the yawn of your back strains as you pitch forward.

You’ve missed this.

You’ve been so distracted. You’ve grown comfortable in your routines, you’ve let yourself go listless—living in blissful ignorance—all because of a metal man in his metal ship with the most impossible and darling child you’ve ever known. All because your body reacts at the very sight of him, all because your belly flips when he speaks, that modulated purr rumbling loose from his beskar, all because, because—

You like him.

You wish you didn’t—you hardly know why you do—but you’ve soaked your fingers enough times in your rack to realize that this thing residing within you burns.

You can’t even see his face, and you don’t have to. His presence alone— that raw, vacuous energy that surges from him—it’s addicting. It's engulfing. It makes you whimper into the night, massaging your pearled clit as your other hand muffles your moans and you come over and over and over again, chasing after the fantasy you so dangerously harbor for this man. The man who’s piloting you back to Coruscant—the man who sleeps just down the hall.

But that isn’t real. That’s not real life— that’s not your life. This is real—the fuchsia of the setting suns blazing through the horizon, the sweat on your brow. You’ve missed this— Maker, you need this. Working with your hands, making an impact. You’re wanted here and kriff, does that not feel so unabashedly right. To be wanted. To be important.

Your back groans, the sinew woven over your spine aching in protest and you know, without a doubt, you’ll feel this for the next week. Half of you dreads it—being cooped up and sore, lactic acid compacting your joints— while the other excites at the prospect; the memory of a good deed lasting long after it’s finished. That reminder always there, always present: see, there’s still hope in the galaxy. We can still do good. There’s goodness where you look for it.

You fling dirt over your shoulder as you burrow lower and lower. With each shove, the soil changes hue, changes density—the striations darker, more definitive. It’s less dry now, thicker too—turning from sand to clay the deeper you dig. Again, you drive the spade into the sod with a taxed grunt, when you hear a distinct, wet squish.

You pause, stilling your shovel in the dirt. Everything - everyone - freezes.

Adrenaline thrums through you as you drop to your knees, using your hands to brush away loose silt piled atop the loamy floor, excavating what lies beneath.

Prayers and hollers erupt above you and you lurch your focus up to the sound, a feverish grin plastered to your face. The little boy jostles the child excitedly, and his green talons rumple the other’s tattered tunic. Your head falls back, cushioned by the dirt wall and you laugh - gargled, relieved - as water begins to seep through the tired ground.

Bubbling up, bubbling up—unearthing.

///

The promise of ridding yourself of your soiled clothes was the singular thought that fueled your trek back to the Crest. Every inch of you was filthy, caked in dried mud and gritty sand and you wanted nothing more than to strip from those dirty layers and melt into your bedroll. The kid, that lucky little bugger, had passed right out; sun drunk from his long day, he’d slept the entirety of the return trip—stirring only once when you placed him in the hover pram and sealed it shut.

Your bones are worn. Your tissue, your tendons— every little scrap that keeps you stitched together craves sleep. You reckon you should feel miserable, what with the tell-tale stiffness already burdening your spine and the fresh callus from the shovel’s handle reddening your palm.

But you’re not miserable, not even close. No, you’re happy—you’re glowing; fulfilled and serene, humming as you wash your pants in the basin, kneading at the sopping fabric. You wring out the article, shaking free the excess droplets before draping it on a metal rung overhead. You peel off your shirt and bra band next, leaving you only in your underwear as you plop them into the bowl and begin to scrub at the stains, concentrating on a particularly dirty patch at the sleeve.

The grating mechanics of the Crest’s great jaw unhinging sends your stomach bounding frantic to your lungs.

Kriff—shit shit shit, he’s back early.

Clutching onto your modesty, you cover your breasts and scramble to your quarters, quickly shimming a loose tunic over your head. Its hem barely covers the curve of your ass and you tug long at the cloth before peeking cautiously from the doorway and tiptoeing out of your room.

“Hey,” you warble, rounding a corner as solid feet pound up the ramp—you can feel their reverberations in the floor under your own. You pad into the galley, pulling at your shirt as you go, to tidy up the washing you left unattended. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you so—”

You falter.

He’s there at the mouth of the ship, the ramp drawing slowly up behind him and he’s fuming; you can practically see the steam lifting from his armor and his breathing is labored—chest rising, plummeting violently. You both stand immobilized on opposite sides of the hull—you, bare-legged and exposed and Din, all but anonymous under the steeled fury of his armor. Finally, the sound dampens, ship shuddering as she seals shut—sealing you in—and the leather of his fist creaks in the silence hanging dense like smoke around you.

“Mando...?”

He doesn’t grace you with a response. Instead he begins to stalk forward, stripping weapon after weapon from himself with every thundering step—rifle, blaster, vibroblade—he sloughs it all, metal clanging against metal as they clatter to the deck.

“Hey, what’s wrong-”

He’s not stopping. Fuck, he’s getting closer and closer and instinctually you back up—staggering until you’re pressed against the bulkhead—his broad frame crowding you until all you see is the silver polish of his beskar. You jolt when his hands fly up and slam into the wall behind you, framing either side of your head, fencing you between his forearms. Your lips part, wide-eyed and confused, and you gulp around the nervous lump threatening your voice.

“Do you have any idea,” he seethes, “what you do to me?”

“W-What-” Your stammering is cut short as he slots his thigh between your legs and you have to tilt your chin to meet his visor, a gasp finding itself on your tongue.

“Strutting around my ship, putting your hands on me, that kriffing smile…” Din ruts his knee into your heat, and you’re practically hoisted onto your toes. Your core pulses against the blunt pressure, blood racing to the throb at your center.

Maker, you could fucking faint.

“Do you know how long I’ve thought about this—about you?” His voice is tar black—smooth like obsidian—and you succumb to it. You can’t speak; any and all language evaporating from the forefront of your mind, because he’s everywhere. He’s inescapable and smothering and his scent floods over you, intoxicatingly wild—like iron and sand and something dangerous. Something heady, carnal.

“Is this what you want?” he hisses.

You’ve gone dumb. You’ve imagined this, you’ve dreamt of this, but now it’s actually happening—here, in the flesh, it’s finally happening and you’re trembling with the reality of it. All you can muster is a shaky nod, tongue darting out over your lip.

“Tell me,” he orders, scanning your face behind the guise of his helm. You feel his gaze rove over your eyes, your cheek—fanning across your lips.

Your breath hitches.

“Yes,” you whisper, “yes I want this.“

It’s all it takes.

Din is rougher than he means to be. He wears this as he wears his armor, plating the soft parts of himself he doesn’t want anyone touching. He doesn’t know anything else. He doesn’t know how to be anyone else but this.

He grabs a handful of your waist, rooting you still as he rolls his thigh against you. You inhale an airy noise, grappling onto his other arm stationed by your head and you bite your lip, sucking it into your mouth. Your cunt spasms for him as he presses up into your mound, fightless against the groan that seeps through you.

“You like that?” he pants. ”You like fucking my thigh?”

Din manhandles your hips, his hold on you vicious as he rocks you back and forth on his plated leg, your clit catching on the cold edge of his thigh guard with each motion. It sends hot sparks down your spine and you trap a moan behind your teeth, letting the sound rumble there before you swallow it. His hand weaves up from your waist, the drag of his glove setting fire to your skin as he passes over the swell of your clothed breast, and you arch into his palm as he swipes a thumb over a nipple. “You want more?”

He splays his large hand, groping at your plump flesh, and pinches your nipple hard until it pebbles through your shirt. With each sharp twist, his intention becomes clearer: it won’t be enough to skate by on moans alone.

“I asked you a question.”

Din slides his other hand to the small of your back, drawing you flush to his front, and you can feel him— the outline of his firm length twitching under his flight suit against your hip. He cranes over you, intimidating and menacing and achingly devious. The panel of his visor has never looked darker.

“Use your words, dala,” he husks.

You should be embarrassed by this—by your need made evident through the soaked lining of your underwear—but you aren’t. The heat that stipples your cheeks isn’t born from shame, it’s sprung from lust—pure and primal—and you can’t afford to give it any further consideration because all there is is this man wrenching sounds from you like an animal— and he’s scarcely even touched you yet.

“Your fingers,” you whimper, “I want your hands."

He learned this lesson within those first weeks—relearns it every fucking day. You could ask him for anything - everything - and he would oblige.

He can’t say no to you.

He shifts out from between you, hooking into the elastic of your panties and tears them down your thighs to rest just above your knees, the spread of your legs keeping them from dropping to your ankles.

Patiently - tortuously - he scrapes up your legs, leaving embers in his wake as he trails higher higher higher to where you need him most. You’re shivering—nerve endings fried and frayed—and every atom inside you hums with anticipation, with unbridled impulse.

The orange tips of his gloves dimple your inner thighs - squeezing, massaging - before he tilts his helmet, angling himself to see you better, and paws your swollen lips apart.

Your pussy is drooling for him.

He moans something indecipherable— a curse in Mando’a—at the sight of you glistening for him under the dimmed lights like this, and immediately you buck your pelvis to him, hungry for his touch—and the pathetic noises babbling out of you prove too much for him to bear.

“Fuck this,” he snarls, ripping a glove off and tossing it aside, “I need to feel you.”

Your eyes have dilated with want, blackened as you watch Din retrace his bare hand—that gorgeous thing you’ve never seen, only ever fantasized about—back to your heat and slowly - so fucking slowly - pass a finger through your slit.

You throw your head back, knocking against the durasteel. The mewl that escapes you is inhuman.

He’s so warm. His tan skin is molten—it’s like he brought the sun in with him, as if he’s burning that star straight into your sex. You’re slippery with arousal; you can feel how glossed you are, you don’t have to look. You can hear it—hear the obscene squelches he’s stroking from your seam.

“Maker, you’re - shit - you’re wet,” he groans loudly, reveling in the way you pitch your hips—seeking his warmth, his friction. He’s been toying with you, drawing patterns along your pussy and playing with your puffy folds, but he hasn’t even come close to your clit. You know it’s no accident. Din is methodical in all things, he doesn’t make mistakes. This is a decision—it’s intentional. You think, perhaps, he’s looking to break you—some sort of retribution for these months you’ve spent swimming in circles around each other—and you think, perhaps, you’d let him.

That you’d like it.

When Din grants you mercy, finally gliding his index along your neglected bundle of nerves, reflexively you fist into his cowl, knuckles going pale.

“Stars-” you exclaim—just like that.

He handles your body like he does one of his pistols - practiced, unparalleled - encircling your clit with precision, his finger on your trigger—blinding, perfect agony swiveled into your sweet cleft.

When he pushes himself inside you, all the oxygen gets punched out of your lungs.

“Fuck, and so tight,” Din growls, bending at the knuckle to curl over that spongy spot of your walls that makes you gape, makes your brain go slack. Your arms scamper around his pauldrons, nails scraping sharp over beskar. The heel of his hand presses into your clit and you grind against him, each roll of your hips pleading a filthy please please please as you chase after the orgasm he’s baiting you with.

He responds to that, bourboned praise dripping smug from his smirk. “Fuck, look at you, so desperate—gonna cum for me already?”

You don’t have the wherewithal to formulate a response. He’s fit another finger into you, fucking up into you hard—fucking you exactly how you need him to. It feels like you are about to shatter right there on your feet. It’s almost unbearable, this mounting tension that’s climbing within you. You’ve been so starved for this, so deprived of a kind touch and a good fuck, and within no time at all he’s coaxing you to the ledge of your release.

“Mando,” you sob, entwining your fingers into his cape, grinding grinding grinding into his palm when suddenly, without warning, his ministrations cease—that burning coil abating to a simmer. You let out a rasped pant, collapsing forward onto his shoulder— your climax ripped away from you at the last, pivotal second.

Your eyes are screwed shut, you don’t see the movement—you can only feel it once it’s already there: the bounty hunter’s glove grating over your neck. You sputter out a gasp as he forces your jaw up to align with the chill of his visor, trapped in the unrelenting strength of his grasp. Your eyes clamber around the chrome boxing you in, gulping back the fear coalescing in your mouth.

“You say my name,” he gravels. “You say my name when I’m inside you.”

Your cunt spasms around the fingers still seated within you—aching for movement, aching to cum—and your lower lip quivers as he leers. “I gave it to you—say it,” he commands.

For a fleeting moment, in the remaining rational corner of your brain, it occurs to you that you’re terrified—that there may be no going back once you speak it. There’s no unmaking this choice. Like a door—a door that swings both ways—once it is cracked ajar, it cannot be closed again. Because you know yourself, you loathe to admit it, but you know his name will crumble you; that you will bend—that you will want to give and give and give to him— and still, despite, you lay onto the handle and fling that door wide open.

“Din.”

“Fuck,” he seethes. His reaction is visceral—the whole of him stiffens, leathered pads of his fingertips searing into your throat. “Again.”

“Din,” you whine as he rocks his fingers into your walls.

He moans, wanton and guttural, at the way his name tumbles from you like velvet. “Good girl—fuck, that’s good.”

He vanishes from your neck, bringing his hand down to cup his cock bulging painfully against the fabric there and your gaze snaps to it, saliva pooling in the well of your mouth. You slither your hand down his breast plate, over the paneling of his flight suit, trailing south until it lands on the hide of his glove. You stop, waiting there - breathless - until he nods curtly.

His hand falls away. You mold your palm to his length.

“Din,” you give freely, high-pitched and girly, and his cock brays under your hand. Fuck, he’s big—you can feel his mass through his pants and your pussy flutters around his fingers moving deliciously lazy inside you. Your eyes latch onto his, the brown of them hidden somewhere under the helm, and you can feel his own bore into you, weighing leaden there—

before you both simultaneously rupture.

Din’s fingers slip out of you to fiddle with the hem of his pants, unbuttoning in a clumsy flourish until he springs free with a groan of relief.

Maker.

He’s fucking divine—long and veined, with a patch of dark curls padding around the base of him. Din weeps for you already, frustrated and pent up from the confines of his restraints, beads of arousal dappling his head. He hisses as you swipe a digit over his cock, smearing his precum down the silken slope of him. You’re transfixed—the both of you staring as you wrap your hand around his shaft and he shudders, keening in to your touch.

“Mm, fuck you’re soft- kriff-”

Din dwarfs you—you barely fit around his girth—and he can’t help but buck into your palm as you begin to move in tandem. Din flicks at your clit, mirroring your pace as you get each other off. It’s awkward and lewd and perfect—both of you, a tapestry of woven limbs and sweat and you pump him harder and harder, choking his cock with your fist. You fuck him raw, the dry drag of your satin hand ripping curses from his mouth.

“Fuck, dala,” he pants, “I-I’m not—” I’m not gonna last. His words are snuffed out as you circle your wrist and brush a thumb over his leaking tip, forcing him to shiver. He doesn’t have to finish his thought, you understand plenty well. You’re dancing along that same precipice, flirting with the fall.

“Stars, yes,” you plead. Fuck, you want him to cum— you need him to. You need to make him feel good, to let him know that you’re here - you’re right here - and that he means more to you than you care to admit; that you want him—have since you first laid eyes on him, since he rescued you, since he took you back to the Crest and gave you the last of his bacta to heal all your splintered bits. That he deserves this—with all that he’s done for you, all that he’s doing for you—

with all that he his.

“Din—please.” Fuck, you don’t even know what you’re asking for—more of him, all of him—and a groan tears through his modulator at the sound of you begging his name—like he’s wounded, like it pains him to hear you say it.

It’s a race now—the two of you hurdling headlong towards this terrible, messy collision. You’re both sloppy—wet sounds and slaps of skin—as you stumble closer to the brink of release. He’s been rendered incoherent, chiseled down to the basest of grunts and broken words you don’t recognize. His thumb finds a devastating pressure on your swollen nub and your legs begin to vibrate, nearly unable to stand on your own two feet with how fucking perfectly he’s working your pussy.

This thing inside you feels giant - monstrous - and that slow wave that’s been building and building and cresting is here, upon you. You’re trapped in the barrel of it, and it’s going to crash at any moment and sweep you out to sea. Drown you—happily, gladly. “I’m - oh fuck—"

“That’s it, good girl,” he praises, tightening his circles on your clit. “Cum for me, cum on my hand-”

A crack of lightening streaks up your middle, the whole of you shaking as your orgasm rushes through, a sputtering cry let loose into the ship. You feel yourself gush, dripping past his thickness stuffing you full, dripping down your inner thighs. Din pulls out from you and you whimper at the loss—his absence leaving you gaping, leaving you bereft. You’re siphoning down air, dizzy from your release, when he raises his hand, glistening with your fluids, and traces your bottom lip—asking for entrance.

Fuck.

You part for him, eager and pliant, and he snakes two fingers inside—tasting your own tang and the leather residue left there, stamped into the whirls of his fingerprints. Your tongue swirls around them, laving him clean, and you drag over the ridges of his shaft— still hard and throbbing and waiting in your grasp. He bobs his fingers in your mouth, matching you thrust for thrust, and you let out a depraved little moan, humming around him, and all Din can do is watch.

Watch as he disappears between your lips—his skin pulling and catching on your plush flesh— watch as you suck on them, watch as he practically fucks your throat. And Maker, you take him so fucking well, letting him do what he pleases with your all too supple body.

He can’t even begin to imagine what his cock would look like—what it would feel like nestled in the hot cavern of your mouth, hollowing your cheeks to suck him like hard candy. Din doesn’t let himself—can’t. If he did, fuck, that’d be it. He’d be done for. He knows he’d cum in a flash and he wants to make this last—to hold on to this - onto you - for as long as he can, allow himself this singular concession. The only time, he convinces himself, the last time.

He won’t think about you again.

You quicken your rhythm and Din bucks wildly into your palm, his seizing and twitching alerting you to how close he is. He slides from your mouth, a string of saliva trailing along after as he clasps onto the back of your neck.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m—” Din knots into your hair, gripping you rough, panting frantic. “Fuck. Fuck, dala— cyare-”

With a hoarse shout, he slams his gloved fist into the durasteel and spills over himself in hot, thick pumps, spurts shooting out to splatter on your tunic, on his flight suit, on your knuckles. You ease him through it, his cum glazing down his cock before you slow to a languid stroke, his seed sticky under your palm. You’re panting, the both of you, spent noises reverberating ugly and loud against the metal sidings.

Din sinks his helmet to your forehead while you catch your breath, his cold beskar kissing your flushed skin—the density of it comforting, grounding. Your eyes teeter shut and you let yourself lean into him, a dazed grin tugging at your wet lips. This is— nice; so much gentler than the pace he drove not minutes before. Head to head, his hand buried in your hair, your arm slung over his hulking shoulders; your fingers thread into the askew fabric behind his neck to discover a sliver of skin treasured away underneath. You trace there - lightly, whispered - earning a fizzle of static sent whirring through his vocoder.

“Fuck,” Din mumbles, before unweaving himself and separating from you. Your legs have gone useless and rubbery—you almost face plant forward without him there— and by the time you blink open, he’s already tucked himself into his pants and picked up his glove, slotting it over those skilled fingers that had just filled you to the brim. He turns back round to find you staring at him through the haze of your afterglow, eyes glassy and fucked out; your fluids dribbling down towards your underwear still bunched above your knees, hair tangled with sweat and saliva and cum—his and yours.

You look wrecked—disheveled. You’re so fucking pretty it makes Din want to scream.

He picks up a stray rag from a crate and offers it to you, before silently sliding your panties back up to your hips in one dexterous swipe. He lingers there but for a moment, savoring the touch of you—grazing a digit into the crease of your hip. You’re rendered mute— your brain can hardly string a sentence together— but finally you manage, your voice weak when you find it again.

“Thank you,” you croak, wiping away the traces of him off your knuckles, and you smile coquettish, delirious. “That was… that was, uhm—I really enjoyed that.”

A quiet beat slogs by.

And then, everything shifts.

Din’s hand descends from your waist, holstering it to his side, and he moves away. He moves away from you.

You can feel it immediately—like a gust of chilled wind, the change in the air nips at you. Din’s armor is anything but warm—his presence, his aura, anything but inviting—but now, he seems farther from you than ever before, his visor tempered and steely.

You know him. You know this man. You’ve travelled with him, you’ve mended his ills, you’ve taken care of his son, you’ve spoken his name, you’ve laid prints on his skin and deeper still—

And here, before you, Din is white noise. Indiscernible. Unreadable.

Nervously, you twiddle with the frayed edge of the stained cloth, worrying your cheek. You swear, just for a second, that you see him inch towards you— you think you sense him, some part of him, breaching the chasm that’s formed between you. But it’s only a trick of the lowlight—a trick of your cruel heart, winged and errant beneath your ribs, misconstruing your thoughts to fancy.

Because he doesn’t. He doesn’t come to you like you want. He doesn’t touch you again, he doesn’t hold you like you need.

It feels like you’re withering—your legs too bare, your tunic too short, hair too mussed, eyes too bleary—everything feels wrong now, misplaced. “Din,” you start, you try—you try to keep attached to this tether, to this thin strand you’ve sewn between your bodies, but he shrinks back. He severs it. He is as you first met him. Rigid. Distant. A Mandalorian bounty hunter— the best in the parsec. He is as he was months ago, when you were strangers.

When you were nothing.

“I—” He silences himself, teeth clenching shut around the unspoken sentiment you so long to hear, and instead takes another step backwards. Farther away. Farther from you.

He stands straighter, impossibly taller, and you feel

small.

“Goodnight,” Din gives, his voice shrouded and cloaked by his modulator. He pivots on his heel, retreating into the depths of the Crest and leaves you there, the ghost of his hands on your neck, on your breasts, in your heat— still tingling from where they haunt you. Exhausted, you thud back into the bulkhead, unfocused and unseeing.

“Goodnight Din,” you murmur, but it falls upon deaf ears. He’s gone, and the empty hull swallows your words—burying them.

taggies:

@girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @pedros-mustache @miranhas-art @djarrex @bookloverfilmoholic @keeper0fthestars @misguidedandbeguiled @bookishofalder @helmet-comes-off @grumpymuffinmama @niiight-dreamerrrr @spideysimpossiblegirl @janebby @greatcircle79 @djarinsbeskar @sammysdaisy @whataperfectwasteoftime @mandobloggin @silver-streaked-wings

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x fem!reader #mando x reader #mando x you #mando x fem!reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #pedro pascal #star wars fanfic #the mandalorian fanfic #king of cups #mandalorian smut

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clockworkgraystairs · 4 years

Text

Christmas Dinner || Jurdan X-mas in July

AHHHH there is more Christmas!Jurdan!!!!!!!!! 🎄🎄

Rating: T

Summary: The Duarte's are hosting their Christmas dinner and Vivi sets a trap for Jude to bring his boyfriend and introduce him to the family.

I guess this can be considered a little prequel to You got me trippin?

This is also my first time posting somethin in 1st person sooo...let’s see how it goes lmao

Tags: @jurdannet @jurdannetrevels @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @sweetlyvillainous @aesthetics-11 @thesirenwashere @jurdanhell @demydreamer-otaku-and-book-lover @nightbringer @b00kworm @mysweetvillain @thefolkofthefic @yafandomsdotnet @vanessa172003

[if you wish to be tagged/untagged or if I forgot to tag you pls let me know!]

A massive thank you to Becca @sweetlyvillainous for betaing this for me!! Love u 🧡

Masterlist Read on AO3

This is a terrible, terrible idea I keep repeating myself.

If I’d shown a little more steadiness with my sister I wouldn’t be in this situation. I knew she was nervous about presenting her girlfriend to the family, specially to our father. And because she is extra as hell, she couldn’t choose another date that wasn’t on Christmas Eve. For weeks now she’d been texting me, grumbling about how was she going to be able to pull it off. I told her to relax and just go with it.

What I didn’t expect though, was for Vivi to arrive out of nowhere to the school where I work, talking nonsense about me bringing a fake date to dinner with hopes of taking the attention away from her.

After spending 15 minutes trying to convince her it is not necessary for me to do that, her insistence is such I end up babbling how bad that idea is since I already have a boyfriend, and fake dating someone else would certainly create problems.

Big mistake.

Looking at me with something like betrayal in her eyes, now she starts questioning me about that boyfriend who I’d never talked about before. I bite my lip. When it comes to personal stuff I prefer to keep it private, even with my own family. I have my reasons.

And just because luck is not on my side today, in the middle of her inquiries I hear a faint “Hey, babe!” behind me. I groan. Of course. Of course he had to arrive in that moment.

We both turn to look at him. Cardan approaches us wearing that mischievous grin reserved only for me, so different from the polite smile he uses with his students. His hair is tied up in a bun as he also wears it for work, few curls escaping it in the most adorable way.

With a pang of panic, I notice Vivi noticing how dumbfounded I’m looking at him. Her eyes light up in a way that I know means nothing good. I frown at her.

“I was looking for you on the cafeteria, one of your students told me you were here.” He pauses. “I- didn’t notice you were busy though, sorry.”

“Not at all!” Vivi says with exaggerated enthusiasm. “I’m Jude’s older sister, Vivi! You must be her lovely boyfriend.”

“Oh, yeah I am. Nice to meet you!” If I didn’t know him so well I wouldn’t notice the slight blush on his cheeks or the way he looks at me in contained alarm.

It’s too late by the time I put the pieces together. When I realize what is about to happen, my sister is already handing Cardan a rolled piece of paper.

“I came to make sure Jude invites you to our family Christmas dinner! She’s so absentminded sometimes isn’t she?”

I’m going to kill her. Slowly.

Horrified, I stand there and see Cardan take the invitation, grinning. His polite, charming smile.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” He says. “Thank you so much Vivi.”

My sister turns to me and whatever look it’s on my face makes her hesitate. Although, not enough. She claps her hands once and makes an excited squeal. “Well I must go now! But I’m so excited you’re coming to join us Cardan, see you there. Ciao!”

With that she turns and leaves.

So here we are. My boyfriend driving by my side, as we are about to arrive to my parent’s house.

My knee bounces without control as I twist my scarf between my fingers. At any moment now, I’m sure my heart is going to bolt out of my chest.

“Jude dear, is everything ok?” He asks. I notice I’ve been quiet almost the entire road.

I turn to look at him. He looks dashing, even if it’s not a strictly formal dinner he always finds a way to dress as it was. Black ensemble and green scarf that stands out his pale skin, though his nose and cheeks have a touch of color because of the cold weather.

“Yeah it’s just... My family is a little,” I pause. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

We are not the type of family that introduces romantic partners, ever. My twin sister tried to do it some years ago with a terrible and embarrassing outcome. At some point in the middle of breakfast, she’d asked her daddy to pass the salt. Both our father and Locke moved to grab it at the same time. What came next, well… if that Locke dude had restrained himself to make a sarcastic and really tacky comment about it, maybe he would still be welcome in the house. Alas, he is not.

Ever since that day, every time someone brings a guest to the house my father gets in a mood that is pretty uncomfortable for everyone. Sooner or later he makes everyone run. Not exactly the first impression I want Cardan to have.

We’ve been together for some time now, about eleven months. But the topic of introducing our families has never been on the table so far. I know he comes from a problematic family even if he doesn’t talk much about them. As for me, I have to admit I’ve grown so attached to him that I’m terrified of Madoc, or any other of my relatives, scaring him away.

He takes my hand in his, warming it, and smiles softly. “It’ll be ok. Breathe.”

I sigh, hoping he’s right and grip his hand tighter.

The inside of the house looks as if Santa’s bag had exploded. There are lights and ornaments everywhere. Even the tree is bigger than previous years. A delicious smell of food fills the place. As I stare in awe I hear voices coming from the living room.

“Jude? Is that you?” Hurried steps sound in the wooden floor and a few seconds later my little brother appears wearing an absurd red and white onesie. He crashes against me and I laugh, hugging him back.

“You do realize that’s for little kids don’t you?” I ask. “It looks good on you, though.”

Oak scoffs and pulls back. “Well of course it does. I look good on everything.”

Cardan chuckles next to me and for the first time my brother notices him. His eyes and mouth open widely, blinking at him and then turning back at me. Once. Twice.

“Jude,” He murmurs. It cracks me up how shy he can get around new people. “Who’s this?”

Ah, here we go. I take a deep breath and grab Cardan’s hand again.

“Don’t be rude,” I warn him. “His name is Cardan. Cardan, this is my brother Oak.”

Cardan greets him, extending his hand to him. Oak shakes it, visibly puzzled. “And Cardan is…?”

“My boyfriend.”

A slow, mocking and devilish smile spreads on his face. I swear to god that kid was taken out from the movie Cheaper by the Dozen. All the shyness is suddenly gone.

“You and Vivi are really trying to give dad a heart attack today aren’t you?” He turns to Cardan and adopts a serious expression I almost believe. “Please tell me Jude doesn’t call you daddy.”

“OAK!” I hiss. I look at Cardan and he gazes back with amusement, I notice he’s biting back a laugh.

“WHAT? I need to know earlier if I need to take my phone out, last time I didn’t have time to record when dad…” He motions with his hand. Yeah, I remember.

“She doesn’t.” Cardan affirms. Mimicking my brother’s mischievous smile he asks. “Is there a story there I need to know?”

Oak hesitates, even though I’m sure he’s dying to spill it out.

“Taryn would kill you.” I remind him.

“She’s not coming. For what I’ve heard, either it’s Locke’s turn to visit his family or something about dad running him under the car if he dared appearing. I’m not sure.”

Great.

“What if I beat you at Mario Kart?” Cardan asks, pointing at the console resting next to the tv.

Oak squints at him. “Are you challenging me?”

“It’s not a challenge when I know I’m going to win.”

Turning to me, my brother grins. “I like him.”

I know this is the first time I’ve brought someone home, but still I don’t know if I should be offended at my parent’s surprised faces. Oak had to tell my mother twice that Cardan is my boyfriend before she nods in understanding.

On his side, Cardan is being the full gentleman. To be fair he always is, but I notice the extra effort he’s doing today. It warms my heart. The only sign of nervousness I notice in him are occasional deep breaths he takes when he thinks no one is watching.

We get to meet Heather too, who is adorable and I honestly don’t know how on earth she fell in love with my lunatic sister. In a matter of minutes Cardan is already friends with her which helps with her evident tension. Vivi seems to relax as well.

Christmas music plays on the background as we eat. This is probably my favorite part of the evening. Don’t get me wrong, I love gatherings with my family but food calls me on a spiritual level. Cardan knows it too, chuckling at my excitement while I’m serving us mashed potatoes.

“So, Cardan.” My father starts, serving the wine. My heart leaps in my chest, oh no. “You met my daughter at work?”

He nods. “Yes sir, I arrived there about two years ago. I teach preschool and first grade.” Winking at me he adds. “Jude used to hate me.”

Madoc turns to me, frowning. “What happened?” I roll my eyes, classical worried dad.

I take a long drink from my wine and shrug. “Nothing, he stole the ‘best teacher award’ from me, on his first six months. I’m pretty sure he bribed the students that year.”

To my surprise, my father barks a laugh. We all stare at him wide-eyed.

“Keep repeating that to yourself, love.” Cardan teases. “It was a clean triumph.”

“You’ve always been competitive Jude, that’s no secret.” Vivi adds. “It’s nice to finally meet someone who can pull up with that.”

I turn to glare at her. You and I are going to talk later. She sticks out her tongue at me.

“Do you guys have sex?”

“Oak!” My mother shouts as my father and I both choke on our wine.

When Cardan parks the car outside my apartment it’s already past midnight.

Surprisingly, this turned out to be one of the best Christmas celebrations I’ve ever had. My boyfriend somehow managed to not only avoid any uncomfortable moments around my family but also to wrap them up around his little finger. With jokes and tales about us the night had passed incredibly fast.

Toasts were made, hugs and gifts were given. By the end, we were sprawled on the floor wearing silly sweaters and watching the merciless Mario Kart match between Oak and Cardan. It ended up in a tie. Rematch was already set for New Year’s Eve.

It was everything I never thought it would be.

“Well, did Vivi’s plan work?” Cardan asks.

I turn to find him already looking at me with a knowing smile on his face. Still, it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“C’me on, you weren’t really planning on inviting me to your family’s dinner. Something was surely going on the day she gave me the invitation.”

Sighing I whisper. “I’m sorry.”

He knows me too well, more than I even know myself sometimes.

“Don’t be, it’s not a topic we usually discuss.” He shrugs, reaching my hand with his. His thumb makes slow circles on my skin “Still, I should’ve asked if it was ok with you. Forgive me if I crossed a line.”

“You didn’t. I just wasn’t planning for you to meet my family yet.” I regret those words the moment they leave my mouth, knowing how they sound. Cardan doesn’t let go of my hand but he stops his ministrations. “Wait, that wasn’t…”

“Jude, it’s ok.” He says, turning to the windshield. I know him well enough too, and notice the touch of sadness behind his words.

“No it’s not. Please listen.” I insist, my heart is beating fast now. That look on his eyes is exactly what I tried to avoid the whole night. “The reason why I wasn’t thinking to introduce you to my family is that they’re ridiculously hard and annoying with every new person that visits. And this is the first time I took someone home and…I don’t know, I-”

“You thought I’d leave?” He turns his gaze back to me, warily.

At the beginning of the day I did. But I don’t find the words to admit it, so I don’t answer.

After a moment of silence he asks “Do you want to know why I agreed to go?”

I swallow and nod. Cardan inhales deeply..

“We’ve been together for some time now. And you know, you must know, I’m not playing around Jude.” I start to say something but he silences me with a soft finger against my lips. “I love you. If I agreed to whatever scheme your sister had in mind it was because I wanted to show you that I’m not going away. No matter what.”

“My family…”

“They love you. It’s only natural for them to ask what my intentions are… and maybe tease us about it too. I’m willing to admit your dad is a little scary. But not enough to make me run away.” He winks, cupping my face.“There is nothing on earth that would make me want to run away, Jude. That’s how much I love you.”

Feeling my eyes sting I blink. “I love you too.”

We’ve said those words before. But I find that they acquire a different meaning, somehow deeper. My chest is suddenly too small to hold everything I feel for this man. He’s not going anywhere. He loves me. I’m grinning like an idiot and I’m proud of it.

I lean to rest my forehead against his. “Since it’s our first Christmas together… and you already met my family.” His smile widens at that. “Would you like to stay the night?”

“There’s nothing I would like more.” Cardan angles his head to give me a kiss that I accept gladly, coiling my arms around his neck. “I usually spend Christmas alone, I guess it’s time for new traditions.”

We remain entwined for some minutes, it fastly turns into something hotter and desperate. I’m already straddling his hips when I pull back a few inches. I bet my lips are as swollen as his. He is looking at me with hunger… and love.

“How about a tradition in which we spend Christmas night undressed and watching some crappy Netflix movies?” I suggest.

My toes curl when he leans to bite my lobe and purrs. “Yes, please.”

#a very jurdan christmas in july #jurdannet christmas in july #jurdannet #jurdan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #tfota #holly black #tcp #twk #tqon #qon #judecardan #jude x cardan #the cruel prince #jurdan human au #vivi duarte #madoc #tess writes

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mayraki · 3 years

Text

⋆⁑lost in the MORTAL WORLD ⁑⋆

jj maybank x witch!au

~chapter one~

sequel for ⋆⁑lost in HALLOWEEN TOWN ⁑⋆

masterlist

“Return to Outer Banks”

✶ A month can go faster than a cheetah, or slower than a turtle. But for JJ Maybank, who spent the last November talking to his witch friend, Lia Cromwell, happened faster than him saying the word ‘hi’. He didn’t expect to have grown a friendship with a witch, first of all, because almost a month ago he didn’t even knew that her kind existed in the real world. And secondly, a witch that could end his life by only clapping her hands, which if he thought about it was terrifying, was also so sweet and had one of the funniest personalities JJ had ever seen.

JJ was glad that everything was going like he wanted it to go, even though, he wanted more. He wanted to know more magic, and learn more about her world by exploring and visiting. But unfortunately, that wasn’t an option. He caught himself wishing that he could do magic multiple times, hearing Lia’s stories with Jervis, her cousin, and Evanora, her grandmother, didn’t help JJ with his desire to be a part of her world. He started to have dreams, dreams about him being able to do magic, being next to Lia and her family, having the best time of his life. But they were just dreams, all he had were the once a week conversations with Lia. That day was the most exciting of his week, the night he couldn’t stop wishing that came faster than the one before. His friends, The Pogues, sometimes asked him with who he was talking, but he learnt how to avoid those questions easily, having to lie to a bunch of powerful people about being a mortal made him even more good at lying. He was happy, but suddenly, it all stopped. Lia disappeared.

The first night Lia didn’t contacted him he got confused, and sad, but then carried on in mind that maybe she got busy, since she would always be. Without talking to Lia for more days now, JJ got even more impatient while waiting for the next time to have the conversation with Lia. The moment he stepped inside the Chateau that night, he dropped his bag and quickly walked to the extra room, to close the door and grab the tiny skull from his pocket. He waited and waited, but nothing. Not even a sound or a light coming from it. Nothing.

Frustrated, JJ dropped his body to the bed and kept thinking the same thing over and over again: “What if something happened to her?” Her world was a dangerous one. She even told that herself to him. The feeling of worrying appeared on his stomach but when another horrible thought came into his head, he felt even worst than before: “What if she didn’t want to talk to him anymore?”

The moment JJ closed his eyes he fell asleep. The frustration and overthinking the situation made him exhausted, so he fell asleep even more quicker than any other day he was tired. While his body was still relaxing on the bed, his brain was fully awake, and that made those dreams he was having appear again. But this one was different. It felt more... real. Lia had her eyes closed while kneeled down on the floor. It was blurry so JJ couldn’t fully see what she was doing, but he did notice that she was holding something... a piece of paper.

He wanted to talk, caught her attention, but for some reason he couldn’t. It felt like he was opening his mouth but no noise was coming out. The moment Lia looked up his heart dropped to his stomach since he noticed tears coming down her cheeks. With strength, he tried to move and hug her, but it was like he was glued to the floor. The only thing that was working normally were his eyes. Lia got up from the floor and let the piece of paper on the couch, she took a deep breath and then turned around when Jervis walked into the living room. His eyes looked worried and sad, but the way he immediately hugged Lia, it looked like he wanted to protect and comfort her, trying to be the bigger person and not let his emotions get to him. JJ was so confused because he didn’t understand what was going on, he kept repeating to himself it was just a dream, even if it felt more real than any other dream he ever had.

The next morning he couldn’t stop thinking about it. The feeling of it being real didn’t disappear when he opened his eyes, it looked like a distant memory. He wanted to see if he could do it again. So, the next night, he closed his eyes and waited for him to fall asleep. Soon after, his body was fully gone except his mind, just like the night before. But this time, Lia wasn’t there. It was just him and the dark living room of her house. He tried to move his feet but they were still glued, but then noticed that his arms were now moving when his brain told them to do so. He took that advantage and reached over to the couch, to where the piece of paper Lia left the night before. The moment he did, he read her name in it: “Cordelia”. It was beautifully written in cursive and in red. He furrowed his eyebrows confused and then wondered why Lia was crying after seeing her name in a piece of paper. He turned it around expecting to see some type of letter, but the thing that was written was letters “OBX”. He felt more confused than before. He looked up after leaving the letter on the couch to look for Lia or someone from the house. But nothing, just him and an empty living room.

JJ was getting even more frustrated. He didn’t understand why he was having that dream, if he didn’t had the opportunity to be in that scenario again, he would’ve just thought that it was nothing to be concerned about and it was just a dream, like the ones before. But he came back. He saw the letter again. And the fact that he didn’t understand and didn’t know how to get the answers was killing him. He needed to know if everyone was alright. He needed to know if Lia was ok...

The third night it took him a lot longer to go to sleep, but once he did, it all happened like the nights before. He was there, in the living room with the feeling that it was real. He tried to walk but it was no use, he still couldn’t walk. He moved his arms to make sure they worked like last time, and they did. He was about to try and say something, but when Lia quickly walked into the living room he closed his mouth.

“Jervis! I have to go!” Lia yelled while walking towards the couch. She grabbed the letter and then turned around to see Jervis, who just walked into the living room. “You don’t have your magic back, grandma can’t transport. It has to be me!”

“Do you understand that this is illegal? We can’t go back to the mortal world without the permission of the authorities and the only way is through dark magic!” Jervis yelled. “And besides, you don’t know what you’re going to face!” JJ was trying to keep his eyes focused since the image in front of him was getting blurry because it was still a dream.

“No! I don’t! But don’t you wanna know what this means?” Lia lifted the letter that had her name on it.

Jervis took a deep breath to calm himself down. “It could be a trap, Lia.” He said more calmly.

“I have to know. And I know you want too. Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

“I...” Jervis was about to say something but then closed his mouth.

“I want to know what happened. And you won’t stop me.” Lia said. “I’m sorry, but you either help me get the portal going or move, and let me do what I have to do.” Her firm tone made Jervis look up and JJ noticed how her words convinced him. Or it was more her being right, whatever it was, Jervis seemed to be ready to help her.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Jervis said before leaving the living room and Lia behind. She closed her eyes and then opened them again while letting out a big breath. JJ saw how a single tear came from her cheek and he tried to moved one foot to get closer to her, completely forgetting he was glued to the floor.

“Shit.” He said almost a whisper and when he looked up from his feet he found that Lia was looking straight at him.

“Who’s there?” She asked looking around. “Show yourself.” JJ stayed still worried that something bad may happen to him. His heart started to beat faster when his brain processed that Lia heard him. But, how? It was just a dream.

The moment Lia lifted her hand he knew that she was going to do a spell on him, so he lifted his hand into the air before yelling: “Lia! It’s me!”

Lia widen her eyes at the surprise and then they started to move around trying to locate JJ on her house. “JJ?”

“Lia... are you real?” He felt stupid the moment he asked that question, even if she was a dream, she would still say yes.

“What do you mean JJ? Where are you? How can I hear you?”

“I- I don’t know. I’m dreaming.”

“What?” Lia asked and then waved her hands around, tying to see if she could touch him.

“I’m sleeping back in Outer Banks.” JJ said. “I don’t know how I got here, but I’ve been getting this dream thee nights in a row.”

“A dream?” Lia asked confused but then widen her eyes. “Wait, are you in Outer Banks?”

JJ quickly nodded. “Lia, I feel like I’m waking up. What is going on? Are you ok?”

“JJ, there’s no time to explain.”

“Wait, what?”

“I need your help.” Lia said worried that the time wasn’t going to be enough to say what she wanted to say.

“What is it?” JJ tried to keep his focus on Lia since everything was getting blurrier.

“I think my parents are alive, and they’re there, in Outer Banks.” She said quickly without giving JJ to react or just say anything back. “I need you to meet me in the forest, where I created the portal to come here, to Halloween Town. Tomorrow at midnight. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes.” He said but no noise came from his mouth, and then, his eyes opened again.

JJ felt so stupid the moment he started to walk through the trees behind his school. It was all a dream! Why am I following what Lia told me in a dream? I should just turn around.... But it felt so real. JJ kept thinking and thinking while walking until his memory recognised the tree he hide behind when Lia opened the portal for the first time. He stood there looking around and he felt more stupid than before, if that was possible. The flashlight that he had on his hand and the moon in the sky were the only things illuminating his surroundings and that made his body shiver, JJ didn’t remember the forest being that creepy. He watched the time of his watch before let his other hand inside his pocket while letting out a big breath. 12.00 am. He closed his eyes and the memory of Lia talking to him in his dream came into his mind. The feeling of being inside her house, having her close were giving JJ the need to go back. To see if it was real, to pay more attention to it. But he couldn’t. All he could do was wait and see if Lia was going to show up like she said. He waited and waited. But nothing. Again. He felt tired of waiting around and afterwards feeling disappointed. 12.09 am. He let out another loud sigh before locking down. A part of him was saying to him that he had to wait more, she could be delayed for some reason and if he left, he would never know if his dream was real. But another part of him was saying one thing: it was just a dream. And maybe that part was right.

12.17 am. That was it. His legs were getting tired so he turned around after giving his surroundings a little look to start to walk away. But a voice spoke behind him.

“I didn’t thought you gave up so easily, Maybank.” JJ heard Lia’s voice. He stood there with his eyes wide open but he didn’t immediately turn around, because it took him a second to properly see if his mind was playing a trick on him or not. “Oh, c’mon, don’t be shy!” JJ quickly turned around and there she was. The girl that got him excited every time they talked. The girl that would listen to him no matter what he was saying. Lia Cromwell. His dream was real.

“Lia.” JJ said with a smile to quickly walk towards her and give her a tight hug. He waited so long to do that again, that he didn’t even hesitated. But once he was close enough, he immediately wasn’t. The moment he lifted his arms he didn’t feel her. He was ready to touch her, but he didn’t. The impact of not touching anything made him take a sudden step forward and he felt a tickle on his stomach; he went through her. He widen his eyes and then turned around, since Lia was now behind him.

“What the hell?” He asked confused walking around her to lock eyes with her.

“JJ, I’m not here here.” She said. The second she said that, he realised. It didn’t look like Lia. It was her, but it didn’t look real. There was a white light coming from her body and her feet weren’t exactly touching the grass, it wasn’t even affected like a person was standing right on top of it, JJ could see it perfectly, like nobody was there. It was like Lia, at the same time, was invisible. Like a ghost.

“How?” JJ finally asked.

“You know I can’t transport myself out of Halloween Town, unless it’s October 31st, so I projected myself here. I needed to talk to you, because you can help me. Like I said before, I think my parents are alive and there in Outer Banks. I got a letter-”

“Yeah, I saw it. The night I talked to you in my dream.” JJ nodded and Lia furrowed her eyebrows confused.

“You did?” JJ nodded again. “That’s strange.”

“What is?”

“I still don’t understand how you were able to talk to me in your dream, and however you did it, you being able to touch something, that’s not normal. That’s very advanced magic.” Lia said and then looked down. JJ noticed how she started to think why all of this was happening, and felt worthless the moment his brain couldn’t even help a little bit in the situation.

“What is happening, Lia?” JJ asked after a couple of seconds in silence. “I saw that in the letter, it had-”

“My name.” Lia cut him off looking back at him.

“And OBX. That’s here, Outer Banks. Why did it say that?”

Lia looked at him in the eyes and after a taking a big breath, she said softly: “That handwriting, it’s my mom’s.”

JJ immediately noticed how her eyes were getting watery but then quickly closed them to brush her need to cry away. He wanted to hug her so bad, and knowing that he couldn’t got him feeling even worst for her. “That’s why you believe their here.”

Lia nodded. “I believe that I was sent here for my assignment for a reason.” JJ slowly nodded not knowing what to say since his brain was trying to follow Lia’s train of thought. “I mean, think about it. My first assignment out of the Academy was here, in Outer Banks. Usually the students get easy tasks, back in Halloween Town. But me, I got sent here, for a year. And then a couple of weeks later I receive this letter. It has to mean something very important.”

“Can you ask why you got assigned to come here?” JJ asked after a couple of seconds, still trying his hardest to keep up with everything.

“No.” Lia shook her head. “I can’t trust anyone right now. Expect for my family.” Lia said and then added, more softly: “And you.”

A little smile appeared on his face when he heard those words. The thought of her trusting him with such a big thing made all of those thoughts about feeling worthless disappeared from his body, from every single inch.

“That’s all I know. So I need your help so I can get there. Can you do this for me?”

JJ quickly nodded. “Of course, anything.”

“Alright.” Lia said with a smile. “But this is not going to be easy. Let me explain what you gotta do.”

⋆ ⋆

Get six candles and salt. Prepare the ritual. Concentrate. Say the words. Get six candles and salt. Prepare the ritual. Concentrate. Say the words. JJ was saying to himself repeatedly since the moment he woke up that morning. Since he said goodbye to Lia the night before, his heart didn’t stop beating faster than normal. If two months ago someone would’ve told him that he would be doing dark magic, as a mortal, with the help of his witch friend, he would’ve just laugh and yell to the person saying that that their crazy. But, he was. In a couple of hours he was going to do dark magic, with know knowledge at all, to help Lia get to the mortal world. Like Lia said, a mortal doing magic is impossible, but with her help, it turns into almost impossible, not forgetting the fact that is extremely dangerous to do dark matic, even for the people that do magic since they can walk. That didn’t help JJ to feel better and confident on his future actions.

When the hour that Lia and him said to start the ritual hit the clock, JJ made sure that nobody was at the Chateau, and luckily for him, non of his friends were around. He locked the door of his room and sat down on the floor next to his bed, he took the candles and the salt out of his backpack.

JJ made with the salt a star on the floor and let a candle in each corner of the star and another one in the middle. In the entire day that he was preparing the things to do the ritual, he forgot to prepare himself for the fact that it was almost everything in his hands. If he fucked a single thing up, it could go to chaos in the mortal world.

“Concentrate, JJ.” He said to himself before taking a big breath and then closing his eyes. The sound of his heart beating was stronger of his thoughts inside his head, so he took a couple of seconds to calm himself and think of every single word Lia said to him the night before.

“Remember these words, JJ. It’s the spell you have to say very carefully. And not mess any single word.” He thought in Lia’s voice. The moment he remembered everything he had to say, he opened his eyes and looked at the star on the floor.

He took another big breath before saying almost in a whisper: “Activate teleportation ritual.”

The second he finished that sentence, the fire on the candles became stronger.

“JJ, the moment you say those words, you’re going to hear voices. Those are people who are waiting for someone to let them through, their usually bad people, people who want to take over the mortal world. Their are going to try to put a spell on you. So don’t listen to them, do not respond, wait for my voice.”

JJ started to hear distant voices, they were whispers. Until someone spoke against his ear. “Hey pretty boy.” Their voice made his body shiver and the hairs on his arms to get up. It was a women’s voice, but it was deep and raspy. JJ felt like the voice was coming from somewhere next to him, but there was no one there. “You’re so handsome.”

JJ kept his eyes glued to the star waiting to hear Lia’s voice, trying his hardest to not get affected by the voices. “C’mon, say my name. I know you know the words.” She said against his ear almost in a whisper. JJ shook his head trying to get his heart to calm down and brush the women’s voice away. “C’mon, don’t fight it.” The women spoke again after letting out a laugh. “You’re trying so hard it’s cute. C’mon, I don’t what to do this hard way.”

His heart started to hurt strongly that he had to close his eyes once the pain started to be unbearable. “I can help you with your dad.”

The moment the women said those words, JJ quickly opened his eyes and his heart started to beat even faster. “Together, we can fight him. I can get rid of him, with a snap of my fingers. Just say the words. I’ll help you, boy.” With all the strength he had in his body, he brushed the women’s words away. He felt a tear coming down his cheek, he was starting to feel weak, like his body was going to give in to the women’s spell she was trying to put on him, but then, he heard her voice.

“JJ? Are you there?”

“Lia?” JJ’s heart started to calm down the moment he heard her voice. He quickly wiped the tear that escaped his eyes.

“Yes! I did it! It took me so long because that women claimed you first, but I won. I’m here. You’re ok.” JJ let out big sigh looking around but Lia wasn’t there, it was just her voice. “JJ, do you remember the next step?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. He lifted the candle that was in the middle of the star and the closed his eyes.

“Remember JJ, say every word carefully.”

JJ took a deep breath before saying, almost in a whisper: “Exteriore Traiciendam, Corderlia Cromwell.” The second he said those words, his room went completely silent. He opened his eyes waiting to see something, even if he didn’t know what it was, he waited. He wanted to talk to Lia, but he was afraid to ruin something and bring chaos, so he stayed quite and looked around. The candles were still lit but when a loud noise hit his ears, a strong wind made him close his eyes and the candles to turn off. Now his room was dark and the only thing that was illuminating the room was the light from outside. The wind wasn’t stopping but JJ opened his eyes with his hand in front of his face, to see what was going on in his room. Papers were flying around, the lamp that was always in his nightstand was now on the floor turning off and on repeatedly. He looked down expecting to see the salt of the floor gone, but it was still intact, it didn’t even moved one grain of salt. He got up with his whole strength since the wind was so strong, making it difficult for him to move his own body.

Suddenly, when his eyes saw the candles turn on again, he noticed that the salt was going up, forming a big circle from the floor to the ceiling. He wanted to close his eyes because salt was now getting in his eyes, but he wanted to see, so he tried his hardest to keep his eyes open every second that was passing.

The lights in his room were becoming more crazy, turning off and on even more quicker and the papers were flying more faster around the room. He started to hear a female voice from a distant, he immediately recognised Lia’s voice but he couldn’t understand what she was saying. Deep down JJ wished that she wasn’t talking to him because it was impossible for him to listen to something since the wind was blowing so strongly next to his ears. He had to squint his eyes since everything was getting unbearable, he never saw the ending coming, he felt like he had been in that situation for hours, but in reality it on had been no more than a minute.

“Exteriore Traiciendam. Exteriore Traiciendam.” Now JJ was understanding what Lia was saying. It was getting louder and louder by the second so when the voice was loud enough, to the point that JJ felt how she was in front of him, he opened his eyes normally and moved the hand out of his face. Seconds later, faster than he could let out a smile, the wind stopped and the salt dropped to the floor, leaving the room with a bigger mess than it already was before.

“Fuck.” JJ heard Lia say the moment it all went silent. She was in front of him. The real Lia Cromwell. It was not a dream, it was not an illusion, there was no white light coming out of her, it was the real deal, and JJ didn’t know how to act with himself in that moment. “Miss me, Maybank?” Lia said with a smile when she saw the shook on JJ’s face.

“We did it.” He said softly looking at her and then a smile appeared on his face.

“Yes, we did.” Lia nodded proudly.

JJ hesitated the moment the need of hugging her came into his body. He remembered the last time he tried, but also, the last time they hugged. But before he could think of something else, Lia walked closer to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. JJ widen his eyes a little bit surprised at her action, but then after a couple of seconds, he took the hug in and pulled her even more closer.

“You’re not writing a letter now, are you?” JJ asked jokingly and heard how Lia let out a tiny laugh.

“No, I promise.” Lia said once she broke the hug and stared at JJ’s face. “Is nice to see you again. Properly.”

“Nice to see you too, Lia.”

Even if they both had been talking for weeks they felt the awkwardness between them, like they were just two strangers who casually talked one or two times. Neither of them knew what to say... or they did, but all the courage they had it went completely away. They wanted to say that they missed each other, that they way they felt when the other one was around was something... new. Something that they never felt before. But how do you explain that without sound weird and pushy?

“What now?” JJ asked and that made Lia go back to reality and brush all the awkwardness regarding to their reunion away.

“I have to find a witch named Amethyst.” Lia said. “My grandma said that she’s going to have all the answers... or at least know where I have to go next.”

JJ furrowed his eyebrows a soon as he heard that name. “How is the witch called again?”

“Amethyst?” Lia answered confused because it seemed that JJ knew something about her.

“Yeah. I know that name.” JJ said confused at his own brain, since a couple of seconds ago he didn’t know a single bit about that name.

“What? How?”

“It’s a store at the mall, on the main land. ‘The great Amethyst.’ She’s a psychic.” JJ said those words, but he didn’t feel like he said those words, they just came to him and his mouth delivered it.

“Of course!” Lia yelled with a smile. “A psychic! That’s how some witches live here. JJ, I need you to show me where it is.”

He was about to say that he didn’t know where it was, but the image of the mall and the shop came into his mind like fast truck. He knew exactly where it was. What was happening to him? JJ slowly nodded still confused on how he knew about this witch and her store, but then brushed it away, with the thought that maybe he visited the place when he was a kid and suddenly remember it. It’s easier to believe that, right?

“You ready to go?” Lia asked when she noticed JJ was all in his thoughts. He looked at her and nodded without hesitation.

“Wait, how are we going to go?” JJ asked. The moment Lia let out a smirk JJ understood what was going through her mind. “Oh, no.”

“Yes, c’mon, I need you to show me where the main land is so I can transport us there.” The moment she started to walk out the door, JJ gently grabbed her arm to stop her.

“I’m glad you’re back, Lia.” He said with all the confidence in the world. His soft tone made him sound genuine and that made Lia let out a tiny smile.

“I’m glad I’m back too.” With her other hand, she touched her arm but he quickly walked out of the house leaving Lia behind.

She stood there looking at JJ walk away. She let out a tiny sigh when something came to her mind. ‘I can help you with your dad.’ Lia remembered the phrase the women said moments ago to JJ, and his face. Lia felt like she would never forget his eyes, and the tears wanting to come out.

Was something going on between him and his dad?

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆taglist ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

let me know if you want to be added!

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colony22games · 3 years

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NON-LIVEPLAY GAMES, MARCH 2163 - ‘Double Trouble’

OBJECTIVE: “DOUBLE TROUBLE” is a LAST TWO STANDING, ‘Hunger Games’ style game and will commence at sunrise. Survivors will begin the game as every individual for themselves, at the edge of the gaming grounds. When the starting horn sounds, survivors may choose to take a chance at The Hoard for weapons and resources, or head straight for the woods. Forming alliances is recommended, but remember, alliances are temporary and can change.

TEAMS: None. 1 vs. All, Personal Alliances only.

WEAPONS: This game will include ALL COLONY-APPROVED TRAINING WEAPONRY. Players begin the game without arms, but may obtain them at The Hoard or at hidden caches around the gaming grounds.

*HIT LIMIT: 1 *KILL LIMIT: 1

KILL PROTOCOL: SURRENDER; Participants who reach Kill Limit are immediately eliminated and must report back to the games staging area.

ADDITIONAL RULES AND INFO:

⚒The game will commence in a clearing at the edge of the gaming grounds, with the treeline ahead (NE). In the clearing, to the SE, will be The Hoard, a large resource and weapon supply. At the start of play, participants may choose to run for it first, or bypass it and head to safety.

⚒Personal alliances may consist of 2 to 5 participants from any house. They must never exceed 5 players. Alliances are based on an honour system; there are no official rules against targeting an ally.

⚒’Sponsor Kits’ can be found hidden throughout the grounds. If an individual receives a hit but has a Sponsor Kit, they may use it to remain in the game. Sponsor Kits are metal cylinders about ten inches long and 3 inches in diameter, and contain a cloth bandage which can be tied at or around the point of the recent hit. Sponsor Kits are one time use only; when the seal is broken, a vial of dye will shatter and soak into the white bandage to indicate its use.

⚒The winning pair may be from the same house, or different houses. Throughout the game, an individual’s achieved kills earn points towards their respective houses, and the winners will get to keep these for their house, plus an extra 250 points. In the case of winners from two different houses, both houses will receive their respective earned house points, plus 250 for the win.

⚒All PDD messaging capabilities have been disabled for the Games. They function only to receive notifications.

CHECK BELOW THE CUT FOR GAME RESULTS AND HIGHLIGHT SUMMARY!

“Bloodbath” - the First Hour

When the horn blares, about half the games participants head straight for the cover of the trees, while the others book it to The Hoard: the huge weapons stash in the clearing. Charlie Essex and JR are among this group. JR gets there first, quickly holstering two handguns, and is about to go for some grenades, when Charlie waves at him with a supply backpack in hand and they both run off. It’s not until they get deeper into the gaming grounds that they realize Charlie’s ‘bag of supplies’ is woefully empty.

Back at the weapon stash, it’s still pandemonium. Draco Pavlović gives Mei Zhu Fitrei a bloody nose in a scuffle over a sniper gun. Alexander Donovan finds Annie Perrault hyperventilating behind a weapons rack, white knuckling a bow. He shoves a quiver into her hands and tells her to run, watching her back as she nervously complies. Meanwhile, Felix Turner and Rosalind Stein nearly collide going for the same bag of supplies. Rose is confident she can easily overpower Felix, until he starts literally shrieking like a maniacal banshee. His wordless wail makes for such an alarming scene, that she opts just to retreat.

Underdogs, Constantin Lupei and Adrien Bennett decide they’ll start off the hour strong, and team up to ambush the next pair of people they see… which turn out to be Mei Zhu and Alex. This backfires dramatically, and Costin and Ajay are among the first half dozen players eliminated. Angel Thorne follows suit when he decides to simply walk off the gaming grounds. He is immediately disqualified.

“All for One…” - Hour 2

Hour two is the time to start forming alliances. Lake Valentine is travelling with Lissy McCall and Annie Perrault, but he dooms them all when he accidentally sets off an InertiaShell. They are all caught in the red vapour and slowed to a crawl. Annie passes out from the effects of the grenade and her usual exhaustion and while trying to wake her, Lissy and Lake become very easy targets when they get attacked by Caelan Whitmer and Arvo Covey. Annie, Lissy and Lake are all eliminated.

Roy Walters hasn’t come across anyone he trusts to team up with, so resolves to lay low. He manages to steal a Sponsor Kit from Mitch Douglas when the elite isn’t looking, and then camouflages himself into some bushes. Meanwhile, Petra Starr convinces a handgun wielding Teilo Aisling not to shoot her, only to shoot him with his own weapon as soon as he agrees to the alliance. Orson Hurst, Maisie Pace, Mason Quinley and Mira Sigar come together to form an only slightly more promising lineup.

Rosalind is fashioning an illegal slingshot up in a tree when she spots wifey Josephine Parker and quickly pairs up with her. As for Charlie and JR, despite their slightly disappointing start, they’ve stuck together and take out Emmanuel Trent as their first victim.

“Acclimating” - Hour 3

Bode Lindqvist has kept to himself but has proven resourceful. He is well armed and has already found a couple of Sponsor Kits. When Koda Payne and Clayton Boyd attack him with ranged weapons, he manages to evade them and escape unscathed. Orson is much less lucky, when he is briefly separated from his group and finds a stash of grenades that apparently Dylan Meir had also had her eye on. Orson grabs a couple tilt grenades, but his nerve-damaged hands spasm, and he drops one, setting it off. With Orson briefly incapacitated by the blue vapour, Dylan has plenty of time to shoot him with an arrow, grab the rest of the grenades, and take off. Nearby, another woman is kicking some nerd-boy ass; Charlotte Williams effortlessly picks off Kip, acquiring his Sponsor Kits.

Koda and Clay try again to make an impact: they sneak up on JR and Charlie in the woods, only this time, they’ve thought it through and have set up traps in the area. They even manage to take out JR with a well-aimed arrow. Charlie then chases both Koda and Clay, firing his handgun as he goes. He eliminates Koda with a stim in the back, then lets off a wayward shot just as he bulldozes into one of the traps and falls to the ground. The weapon skids across the forest floor, but the last shot has caught Clay in the shoulder. Fortunately, the Delma has a Sponsor kit, which he uses to survive. He doesn’t have to go it on his own too long, however, as he runs into Corbin Ealy, who’s trying to evade a prowling Kaiser Bahr. They hide together (because fuck that noise), then decide to team up.

Left alone after Kip’s elimination, Arvo stumbles across Enoch Lynch, while he is caught in hand to hand combat with Paxton Semenyuk, and steps in to help. She and Enoch form a new alliance (which we’d like to coin ‘NET’: Newbie Elite Transfers). Alois Van Asch, on the other hand, is a bit slow on the uptake, and has been wandering the grounds somewhat aimlessly, enjoying the (mostly) quiet of the woods. At one point he is spotted just gazing at the sky.

“Imprudent Behaviour” - Hour 4

Fate, never a kind mistress, soon interferes with Bode’s chances. While he is distracted by an unfortunate issue with his hearing aids, Jo and Rosalind steal the weapons he’d set down and make a break for it. As they run, however, they encounter Dante Carrington; true to form, the Good Doctor puts rules first and disqualifies Rosalind for the illegal slingshot in her grasp. This is witnessed by Corbin and Clay, who were drawn in by the kerfuffle. Corbin reckons it would be hilarious to orchestrate an ambush against Colony 22’s biggest Tight Ass, and with Bode still nearby, it’d be like ‘taking biscuits from a baby’. Fortunately, it doesn’t take much convincing, and the three of them take Dante out without any issue.

Meanwhile, Draco climbs high up into the branches of a tree, seeking a moment to formulate a plan. Aurelia Ferris chooses this particularly inopportune time to walk by, and she doesn’t even see who shot her. Diederick D’Mornay, the perpetual gentleman, spots Anaya Dolman with a Sponsor Kit and doesn’t have any trouble liberating it from her. Emboldened by his success, he gives chase to a couple of other totally threatening Calysets: Mira and Maisie. In his hasty pursuit, he loses his footing and face-plants on the forest floor.

Unlike Ricky, Petra Starr has a little moral fortitude. Alois has grown excruciatingly bored of the Games and asks Petra, (who has now paired up with housemate, Dylan) to just shoot him so he can go the fuck back inside and sleep; obviously this wouldn’t be the same as earning an elimination and would basically be cheating, so Petra declines.

After his temporary alliance with Clay and Corbin, Bode decides to roam alone again, which backfires when Madison Vega eliminates him quickly with a sniper. Persephone Evans and her bleeding heart take a moment to tend to a small injury Cambie Andrews has sustained, but they have to run when they spot Clove Modius and Benji Imes approaching.

“Homestretch” - Hour 5

It’s the final countdown and about halfway through the fifth hour, we’re left with eight tiring finalists. Of these eight, seven of them are in two different alliances. The first such alliance is made up of Torren ladies, Ada Woollacott, Petra Starr, Dylan Meir and Charlotte Williams. The second is a group of egomaniac loudmouths: Corbin Ealy, Draco Pavlović and Diederick D’Mornay. Madison Vega is the eighth finalist, currently remaining a one-woman operation.

Catching a glimpse of Charlotte through the trees, Draco splits off from his group to chase after her, ignoring the protests from his allies. He proves himself rather too big for his boots when he catches up with Charlotte to find her not alone at all, and the team of girls take him out, Charlotte’s Angels style. Nearby and hearing the shouts, Maddie is so caught up watching her back that she steps right into a snare set hours before by Roy. With no one to come to her rescue, it’s endgame for her, too.

But time is running out, so the Charlie’s Angels gang decide to pair off to cover more ground. Petra finds Ricky vulnerable while he does a damage check from his earlier painful fall, and gets him in the back with a stim, while Charlotte manages to catch Corbin similarly unaware. Just like that, the prideful Delmas are out of the running. But while Charlotte and Petra were away steamrolling the Delma boys, Ada had immediately turned traitor, submitting Dylan with a pair of chameleons around her neck.

So naturally, when what’s left of Ada’s allies return, Ada is on the offensive. There can only be two winners, and Ada wants to make sure she’s one of them. Unfortunately for her, feral strength won’t be enough this time; she launches herself at Petra and Charlotte but is overpowered by their exceptional teamwork and clear heads. Moments later, the victory horn sounds: Charlotte and Petra have officially become an unlikely pair of winners. Between Charlotte’s congenital heart defect and Petra’s only recently recovered ankle injury, it is a victory hard-earned and well-deserved.

WINNERS CHARLOTTE WILLIAMS & PETRA STARR

FINAL STANDINGS Torren: 525 pts | Brink: 275 pts | Delma: 250 pts | Calyset:250 pts

POINTS AWARDED 725 pts to TORREN HOUSE

ELIMINATION TALLY*

*Please note that though we included a small handful of NPCs in the games generator, we did not include them all, so there would obviously be plenty of other participants whose eliminations are not established in this list. It can be assumed that many of these would have fallen in the first hour or two, though of course not all. If you need any NPCs for any further plotting or head canons for the games, you may reference any listed open characters/NPCs from the dorms list who fit your idea, or you may use a nameless NPC. If you are unsure, do not be afraid to reach out!

In no particular order:

Hour 1: Constantin Lupei, Adrien Bennett, Siddhartha Jha, Angel Thorne

Hour 2: Annie Perrault, Lissy McCall, Lake Valentine, Teilo Aisling, Emmanuel Trent

Hour 3: Mitch Douglas, Orson Hurst, Caelan Whitmer, Roy Walters, JR, Koda Payne, Felix Turner, Paxton Semenyuk, Andreya Roche, Xavier Crane

Hour 4: Kaiser Bahr, Rosalind Stein, Dante Carrington, Enoch Lynch, Aurelia Ferris, Mason Quinley, Anaya Dolmen, Maisie Pace, Charlie Essex, Bode Lindqvist, Arvo Covery, Alois Van Asch, Mira Sigar, Alexander Donovan, Mei Zhu Fitrei

Hour 5: Josephine Parker, Cambie Andrews, Clayton Boyd, Benji Imes, Clove Modius, Persephone Evans, Draco Pavlović, Madison Vega, Diederick D’Mornay, Corbin Ealy, Dylan Meir, Ada Woollacott

THANK YOU TO ALL OUR MEMBERS AND TO THE PARTICIPANTS OF THE COL22GAMES, MARCH, 2163!

The timeline has now moved forward to the 4th week of March. If you need more information on the these non-liveplay games and how to move forward with plotting, check out this post.

#col22games #nlpgames #double trouble #post apocalypse rp #literate rp

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shinidamachu · 4 years

Text

No Place I Would Rather Be

Summary: We're a thousand miles from comfort. We have traveled land and sea. But as long as you are with me, there's no place I'd rather be. Word Count: 3.617 Genre: fluff Fandom: InuYasha Pairing: Inukag Format: oneshot AO3 Link: 🌹 Fanfic.Net Link: 🌹

Boredom was eating him alive.

Days had passed without a single lead about the jewel fragments. So much that their little group had disbanded for the time being. Sango went back to what was left of her old village. It had been a while since she last paid homage to their dead. Kirara, of course, was her loyal company — and also ride. Miroku was visiting Mushin’s Temple, as if the place hadn't been profaned enough, already. Shippo was still around, but keeping his distance due to InuYasha’s stormy mood.

The frustration of it all got him desperately wishing for some kind — any kind — of action. Something that didn’t involve sulking under a tree and watching time crawl. Every second of this idleness meant another second Naraku was out there, still breathing. Collecting the shards was a small mean to achieve a bigger, imperative ending. It gave him purpose, a sense of getting closer to his ultimate goal step by step. Waiting got them nowhere. It only granted him to be alone with his thoughts and the combination was nothing but disastrous.

Lucky for him, his private source of distraction was not too far away.

Kagome was humming a foreign tune, the same one she liked to sing whenever she was happy. Following the melody was almost mandatory. InuYasha didn’t realize what he was doing until he arrived to the other side of it, where the girl thumbed through her hair in a futile attempt to tame her hair, the lake’s surface a natural mirror at her convenience. InuYasha made his presence known before his own reflection joined hers.

“It’s no use, ya know.”

“Jerk!”

The girl glared at him and retaliated by splashing water on his direction — of which he easily dodged. InuYasha had to admit her reaction was justified, given his past tendency to be utterly unkind to her. This time, however, although his tone wasn’t devoided of casual teasing, he was being completely honest. When you spend sunrise to sunset with someone for so long, it was inevitable learning a thing or two about them. Kagome had a wild hair. Not in a bad way, but it sure had its own will. Especially in the humidity, which was definitely the case of that afternoon. To an outside viewer, the strands could pass as straight. Noticing the shy waves at the end and how they used to stand out after getting wet was a privilege for the few allowed to look closer — a privilege InuYasha cherished. She always had her hair down and he liked that she did. It was destined to be free, to go with the wind. And it had grown a hell of a lot since they first met. The half demon wondered if Kagome was aware of how much. He certainly was.

Then she got up, revealing clothes that were undoubtedly new to his eyes. It was one piece, all lime flowers and malleable fabric against her cream skin. A bit longer than what she usually cared to wear, but leaving her arms and shoulders at plain sight in compensation. The view was thrilling, until his eyes caught the yellow backpack laying by her feet, causing his grin to falter. He understood the implication behind it, even if the question had yet to pass his lips.

“What’s with the weird kimono?”

“Oh, this.” Kagome lowered her gaze, inspecting for herself. Her combative attitude swiftly turning into a cautious posture. “It’s a sundress. I’ve been meaning to ask… can you please give me a ride to the well? I’m going home.”

There it was.

Somehow, getting his suspicions confirmed did nothing to prevent the scowl from forming on his face.

“Thought the school thing were over for the summer.”

“Well, yes...”

“Then why the fuck ya going home for? We still have plenty of supplies!”

“Because I promised I’d go to the movies with Hojo and now that we’re on vacation I don’t have excuses not to go, anymore. My grandpa literally ran out of diseases I could have. And what’s the point, anyway? Jewel hunting is going through a dry spell, everyone left… and I haven’t seen my family in weeks.”

Half of what she said didn’t make any sense to him and InuYasha positively hated the half that did.

“What if something comes up? I can’t see the damn shards like you do.” He argued.

“You jump through the well and get me.” She shrugged, as if the idea was highly unlikely. InuYasha opened his mouth to list the many, many reasons her solution was flawed. She bit him to the punch. “Listen, it’s not a big deal. I’ll be back tomorrow. I bet Miroku and Sango won’t even be here yet.”

It wasn’t fair.

In general, storming off to her era was Kagome’s way of punishing him for being a massive asshole. He got that. To tell the truth, more often than not he deserved it. But InuYasha was in his best behavior — despite feeling rightfully entitled to throw a tantrum, given the circumstances — precisely because he needed her close. He needed her to stay. Picturing Kagome hanging out with someone else instead was the worst kind of self torture. Would she change her mind if he swallowed his pride long enough to say so? Would he ever get the guts to let it out? She hadn’t invited him to come along. Was this Hojo guy really that important to her? More than InuYasha was? Trying to talk her out of it was a dangerous move. He’d put his foot in his mouth, she’d put his face on the ground. That’s what they did.

Either his expression betrayed the turmoil inside or Kagome became too good at figuring him out. Whatever it was, her smile shined, reassuring and warm.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be so quick, you won’t have time to miss me.”

“Who says I’d miss ya?” He dismissed, his indifference unconvincing even to himself.

InuYasha perceived another presence approaching. Shippo. His arrival couldn’t be more providential. Kagome had a soft spot for the brat. If anyone could get her to stay, it was him.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s just the runt.”

Like he had been announced, the kid emerged from the trees in a hurry, Kagome’s bow and quiver looking gigantic on his tiny hands.

“Kagome! InuYasha!”

“Shippo-chan! What’s going on?” She asked, as soon as the boy reached them.

“There are rumors of a jewel fragment, two villages to the west.” He explained, with the pomposity the information called for. “Kaede sent me.” His chin was up high, like the statement added a final hint of importance to the message. “Here,” continued the kit, offering Kagome her weapon in a formal manner.

She hesitated.

“Kagome, let’s go!” InuYasha was prepared to move at the sound of the word ‘jewel’, their earlier argument happily buried and forgotten.

“Wait! Don’t you think it’s strange? For days we had no leads, and now, just when we splitted up…”

“Yeah, well, so what if it’s a trap? It wouldn’t be the first.”

Coward that he was, Naraku resorted to the nastiests schemes in order to get what he wanted. His disgusting fingers laid on every happenstance that had ever caused them harm. What choice did InuYasha have, though? Ruse or not ruse, he had to check it. Regardless of anyone else’s help, it was his duty to get vengeance on the bastard — for Kikyo, for himself — and Kagome knew that.

She sighed and took the bow and arrows from the fox’s hold.

“Thank you so much, Shippo-chan! Now can you do me another favor?”

“Anything!”

“Go back to Kaede. Tell her InuYasha and I are on our way.”

“I’m not coming with you?” He whined, as confused as InuYasha. They never traveled without the child.

“That’s right. We don’t know how dangerous this may be. I need you to stay and if we don’t come back tomorrow by noon, get Miroku and Sango and send them to us. Can you do that for me?”

Shippo resolutely nodded .

“I won’t let you down, Kagome.”

“I know you won’t.”

And through the same path he had appeared he went. Kagome fixed a pleading glance at InuYasha.

“Can I at least change clothes before we g—”

“No time to waste.” He said, grabbing Kagome and her bag to leap towards west.

Kagome was whistling that same song again.

It took him an enormous amount of self restraint not to whistle along.

He was happy. So wonderfully happy. It was astonishing, the effect that tiny, bossy human girl had over his humor. The fact they were following the possible whereabouts of a lost jewel piece also played a role on his attitude swing, there was no denying that. But even if this turns out to be nothing at all, it would be a small price to pay in exchange of spending more time with her.

“Weren’t you mad about not coming home just now?”

His curiosity was genuine. Kagome had been angry since they left and InuYasha would be the person to know. She had two kind of anger. The one he could hear and the one he could feel. Even though she had been unusually silent, her frustration was palpable at first. Mercifully, it seemed to fade away the more ground they covered. Her one complaint was the soreness that too many hours on the same position inflicted upon the muscles, which was why they were both walking. As a rule, he was strictly opposite to anything that might slow them down, and the human pace was unbearable once you had a taste of demonic speed. Running free, with trees and people alike turning into a blur on each side of him, was an unparalleled sensation, amplified tenfold whenever Kagome was riding his back. He didn’t regret giving in, though. They weren’t far from their destination, after all. In addition, her comfort came to be a priority, despite him still being unaware as to when or how.

“Well… yeah, but… what can I do, right? Besides, I haven’t realized how much I missed this.”

Clueless, InuYasha searched their surroundings, unsuccessfully intending to spot what she could possibly be referring to.

“Whatcha talkin’ about?”

“This!” She spinned around, open arms and face to the sky, chasing daylight like a sunflower, the movement bringing her garment to life. “You. Me. An adventure. Don’t get me wrong, I love Shippo and the others, I’m glad they joined us. It just feels like we haven’t had as much quality time together as we used to, after they did.”

“Y-you miss that?”

She shook her head up and down with enthusiasm and a content smile fought its way across his lips.

“I know we could hang out in Kaede’s village, but it’s not the same as going out. O-on a trip, I mean.”

Although InuYasha couldn’t make out why her cheeks were suddenly burning red, he did see the logic her reasoning, and the feeling was mutual. There was a certain level of closeness only the road could provide. No curious eyes. No sly comments. No need to explain themselves. InuYasha had missed that as well.

He often played with the thought of stealing her away, of placate his selfish thirst for her undivided attention. Not once had he imagined Kagome would be as eager to go as he was to take her. Regardless, the timing wasn’t right. It never was. From the moment they met, they were tossed into a mission and there was hardly space for anything else. So he settled for whatever he could get until it was over.

“Why would you miss those trips? It ain’t like I was nice to ya back then.”

It didn’t make sense to him that she would. His memories were of a spoiled little girl, complaining about the bugs and her aching legs and the fact she hadn’t bathed in days. There was no escaping InuYasha’s share of responsibility on the issue. He could have made her life easier, had he bothered to. But at the beginning he saw Kagome as a potential threat he would eventually get rid off. How could he have guessed, after the many betrayals he had endured through the years, that his heart would be safe on her hands?

Kagome limited herself to a shrug.

“You are now.” She stated, as if it made up for his unexcusable former behavior. Her unconditional forgiveness amazed him, no matter how regularly she had shown it to him. “Also, it feels like old times.”

“It doesn’t unless you get kidnapped, somehow.”

“It happened once or twice!”

“Keh! Stop kidding yourself.”

“Shut up.”

“You shut up.”

“No, shut up. I’m sensing a shard and it’s moving away.”

Wordlessly, InuYasha returned the backpack to her and offered her his back.

They raced at full gallop, Kagome guiding their course. The forest transitioned into arid highland, where dirt, thorns and rocky surfaces took place.

“Hey, you!” Kagome yelled at the youkai emerging in their camp of vision. Their target. Over his shoulder, the startled creature sneaked a peek at them and increased speed. Growling, InuYasha matched his rhythm. “Wait up! We won’t hurt you.”

“I’m pretty sure Imma hurt him.”

“Give the jewel fragment to us peacefully and you’ll be free to go!” She went on, his snide remarks as ignored by her as her plead was by the demon. InuYasha’s patience was wearing thin. Now that the rumors turned out to be true, his focus was entirely aimed at the task at hand.

“Are those fancy arrows of yours just for show?”

Kagome let out a deep breath. Shooting was her last ressource. She preferred to sort things out with words first. It rarely worked. Still she always tried.

“I suppose we have no choice.”

The arrow hit the creature in the calf and his groan of pain reverberated through the field. Not lethal, but enough of a nuisance to make him drop the run. InuYasha closed the distance between them within seconds. Kagome climbed off him and together they inspected their opponent.

On the floor, a possum demon hissed and exhibited his fangs at them, his ugly face twisting in agony while he pulled the arrow out. A cascate of blood immediately flowed from the wound. InuYasha was not fooled by it. Being a full youkai, he would be healed soon.

“Where is it?” InuYasha asked Kagome, not daring to leave the bastard out of his sight.

“His belly.”

“Step away, you filthy half breed!”

“Excuse me?” Kagome defied, any trace of courtesy forgotten.

“That was quite the damage she did on ya, there.” InuYasha released Tessaiga from its sheath as he approached the fallen man. “Think I can top it, though.”

“Step away, I said!”

His fear was palpable. InuYasha could feel it. See it. Smell it.

Smell it.

Faster than realization, the odor filled his lungs. It burned his nostrils, his throat. He could taste the toxic substance on his tongue. It was unbearable. And gasping for air only resulted in the pungent scent flooding him further, overwhelming his senses. A defense mechanism, he thought, his vision blurring, his knees giving in. I’m going to faint. No. No, no, no, no, no. Kagome. He had to protect Kagome.

There was a cry of his name.

And then an awful lot of darkness.

InuYasha came to abruptly, uncertain and alarmed by the new reality.

In one minute, the sun was up and he was succumbing, his consciousness leaving him to drift. In the next, he was awake and crickets sang the night’s arrival.

It was tempting to think he had dreamt the whole thing. A stupid, ridiculous, crazy ass dream. However, the lingering smell left no room for argument. It happened. The scent was weaker. Fading. But was there, overpowered by a significantly nicer aroma. A familiar one, sweet on the nose and soothing to the soul. Kagome’s.

He was lying half naked in her sleeping bag.

Sitting up, InuYasha seeked for the priestess, desperate to make sure for himself she was safe and sound.

The fragile light of her modern lantern illuminated the cavern that sheltered them. At its entrance, a girl rested — her silhouette contoured by a starry sky.

“Kagome.”

“You’re awake!”

She rushed to him, tripping over her own eagerness. Her beautiful clothes were dirty and a bit ripped at the hem. A small scratch cut her cheek, remnants of dry blood tainting her skin.

“Are you alright? What happened?”

“I’m fine!” Kagome kneeled in front of him, a gesture he appreciated. There was no peace for him without an up close inspection of her well being. “I purified the demon after you blacked out. Turns out it was a trap. Thousands of Naraku’s second-class demons came for the shard when I took him down. I tried to purify those too, but more of them kept coming and I ran out of arrows, so I casted a barrier and—”

“You casted a barrier?”

InuYasha was beyond impressed. Barriers required great power and discipline. Even from Kaede or the monk. Kagome had apparently done it all by herself. Effortlessly. On the spot.

“To be honest, I don’t know how I did it. I just… I saw you lying there and I… anyway, the barrier purified the ones who touched it. Eventually they all died or left. How are you feeling?”

InuYasha didn’t answer the question.

“I’m sorry, Kagome, that you couldn’t rely on me.”

Guilt pulsed within him like a heartbeat. Constant and compulsory, expanding the outcomes of its work through every inch of his body.

“It’s not your fault. Your nose is too keen, of course you’d be affected the most.”

“But you got hurt!”

“In the thorns. I was careless. Don’t worry about it, it’s not even going to leave a scar.”

“It shouldn’t have even happened. I’m supposed be the one protecting you, not the other way around.”

It could have been worse. InuYasha should be grateful for that. He wasn’t. It could have been worse. And he wouldn’t be able to help her, to save her from this insignificant peril while she had already saved him in every conceivable way there was for a person to be saved.

“I’m not as helpless as I used to be, you know? I’ve grown a lot.” She had a point. InuYasha himself had told her that much, once. Kagome had faced scarier dangers than that. And she could absolutely take them. But he didn’t want her to have to. “Not to mention, it was totally worth it.”

As a proof, she exhibited a jewel fragment, glowing in the healthiest shade of pink.

“You got it!” InuYasha captured the shard, glancing at every angle of it in awe.

“Don’t act so surprised.”

Kagome went for her backpack and came back, falling on her knees again. Her hand dove in and emerged holding the glass container in which they kept the other pieces. She opened it and tilted the receiver to InuYasha, hinting for him to do the honors.

It was as if she had been waiting for him so they could do it together.

As if it was their private, sacred ritual.

He did as she wanted, mirroring her satisfied smile.

“Where’s my haori?”

“Oh! I… I put it away.” Blushing, Kagome tore her gaze from his and InuYasha followed it to a corner of the cave, where a huddle of scarlet fabric laid forgotten. “I figured you’d heal faster with that smell gone and your haori is soaked on it. Sorry.”

“D-don’t apologize, stupid. It was the right call.” To feel useful — and to occupy his brain with something other than the image of Kagome undressing him — InuYasha searched her backpack for the first aid kit, a tool from her era he was sadly too intimate with. “Now let’s take care of this cut.”

“Okay. You have to g—”

“I know what to do. I’ve seen you do it a thousand times.” Her lips parted, and InuYasha added: “Don’t act so surprised.”

He cleaned the wound with cotton, water and soap, then used a different ball of cotton to carefully apply the content of a smelly little bottle to the extension of it. Kagome hissed, but he ignored it in favor of wrapping it all up with a band-aid. To ensure it was properly stretched, he gently ran his thumb through it, allowing the touch to linger more than necessary and his stare to go from her cheek to her eyes.

Her eyes.

The most stunning maze.

Let yourself get in, you are sure to get lost.

She blinked before he could, keeping them closed and leaning into his palm, her hand lifting to cover and caress his.

It would be so easy to grip her chin. To turn her face to him. To bring her to his lips.

So easy to steal a kiss.

Why do the easiest actions have to carry the most difficult consequences?

Clearing his throat, InuYasha transformed present into a loving memory.

“Take some rest. We leave first thing tomorrow.”

“Sounds good to me.”

On the way to claim Kagome’s prior guarding position by the entrance of the cave, InuYasha collected Tessaiga while she busied herself with getting cozy inside the sleeping bag.

“Kagome?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“InuYasha, I think we’re way past saying thank you for saving each other’s lives.”

“No, not for that. I mean, for that too, but... for coming. For staying by my side.”

“Stupid.” She mocked him, her voice lethargic as exhaustion finally caught up to her. “Where else would I be?”

A/N: this was some serious self indulgent bullshit. I regret nothing.

@inukag-week here is another piece of contribution. Kind of merged the Loyalty and the Instinct prompts here. Oops.

#Inukag Week #InuYasha #Inukag #Kagome #Kagome Higurashi #My writing #Inukag Fluff #Inukag Oneshot #Inukag Fanfiction

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spaceskam · 3 years

Text

i will follow you into the dark

Summary: Lan Xichen invites Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian on a special night hunt.

Warnings: modern cultivation au, sexual content, fight scene where there’s blood but nothing too graphic, happy ending for the most part if you don’t think too hard

ao3

For all that Lan Wangji was, strong and stoic, all it really took was getting him alone.

“Your nails would look so pretty painted,” Wei Wuxian said, a small pout on his face. There was no need for the pout‒he knew his Lan Zhan. If he asked, Lan Zhan would let his whole body become Wei Wuxian’s canvas. Which, honestly wasn’t a bad idea…

“Wei Ying can do as he pleases.”

A smile lit up Wei Wuxian’s face which he knew was effective by the way Lan Zhan’s ears tinted pink in response. He was so cute. How did he deserve someone so cute?

“You really don’t mind?”

Lan Zhan didn’t give a verbal response, but he stared and breathed in that way that answered enough. Wei Wuxian grinned and reached into his qiankun bag to retrieve the black nail polish he definitely didn’t have stashed there waiting for an opportunity. He could already imagine‒his Lan Zhan in all white with black painted nails that pressed into his skin. He felt outright giddy.

Wei Wuxian moved closer, grabbing his hand. He held it for a moment and then placed it on his knee and then picked it up again, trying to decide what would be the best way to go about painting them. Lan Zhan just stared at him, his back straight against the tree trunk from where they sat in the grass. They technically were supposed to be creating a practice plan to show how they would handle a nighthunt with water demons for when they eventually got their own set of juniors in the fall, but plans were boring and Lan Zhan was too pretty to not steal away into the more secluded part of the Cloud Recesses for more fun things.

Lan Wangji had grown up heavily involved in the cultivation world whereas Wei Wuxian had lived comfortably in both the normal world and the cultivation world, going to normal school with non-cultivators until he turned 14, got a special courtesy name, and started taking his summers in the ellusive Cloud Recesses alongside Jiang Cheng.

Now, at 20, he was praised as one of the greatest cultivators in his generation and he wasn’t really given an option on whether he wanted to dedicate his life to cultivating or not. Lucky for all those elders, he didn’t mind. Lan Zhan being there and open to a bit of outside-world corruption definitely made it feel less like an obligation.

Especially when he let him do things like this.

“You know what,” Wei Wuxian grumbled, grabbing Lan Zhan’s ankles and pulling them out of his pristine lotus position. He blinked and looked up at him, lips parted just a little. Wei Wuxian was too distracted to really appreciate it and his tongue jutted past his lips as made himself comfortable on his outstretched thighs, his knees bracketing either side of his hips. “This is okay, right?”

Lan Wangji, proper, traditional, overly strict Lan Wangji, nodded in slow motion. Wei Wuxian smiled until his eyes were squinted and Lan Zhan breathed out like a man trying his best to keep his composure. He decided not to comment on it as he grabbed his hand more comfortably now.

“See, this is good,” Wei Wuxian said firmly, unscrewing the top off the little bottle of black nail polish, “This stuff is cool. It has spiritual energy mixed into it to make it both last longer, dries faster, and keep your nails and fingertips super healthy and strong. Good for musicians, Lan Zhan, like yourself.”

“Mn.”

“My sister gave it to me for my birthday because I kept messing them up. Cultivation is hard on the nails, did you know that, Lan Zhan?”

“Mn.”

“Are you just agreeing or did you really know that? Because I’ve never seen you look less than absolutely put together.”

“Wei Ying’s cultivation is hard on his nails,” Lan Zhan answered. Wei Wuxian snorted and rolled his eyes, but he kept his smile. He knew that was probably true.

While the Lan Sect was all fairy-like and the Jiang Sect was very clinical and the Nie Sect was very brutal and the Jin Sect was very showy, Wei Wuxian disregarded all of their styles and just had fun with whatever worked or felt right in the moment. It was how he got so good at it in the first place. If that meant ending up with chipped nail polish and messy hair, it seemed worth it.

After a few moments of pseudo-concentration, Lan Zhan’s hand that wasn’t occupied by Wei Wuxian clearly decided to have a mind of it’s own and he could feel it slowly start to slide over his thigh. He smiled and looked up to Lan Zhan’s eyes for a moment to let him know he didn’t mind. That little bit of confirmation seemed to be the best mistake Wei Wuxian ever made.

That hand, big and strong, went past his thigh and up to his side. His thumb got caught in the hem of his shirt in what was played off as an accident, but was so distinctly not an accident when it pushed into Wei Wuxian’s bare hip with absolute purpose. He shook his head as he continued to slowly paint his nails, taking his time so Lan Zhan could take his.

His hand started to travel up and Wei Wuxian lowered his arms to give him free reign. Lan Zhan’s face was rather blank still, but his head was tilted just a little bit and Wei Wuxian knew him well enough to feel excitement brewing in his stomach in response. He grazed over Wei Wuxian’s chest mindlessly even as his thumb seemed to seek out his scars beneath his shirt just to press a little on them. Maybe he was a little foolish to think maybe that meant he had something to look forward to, but he did anyway.

When he started moving to his neck, Wei Wuxian was fully prepared to have his whole hand around his throat. He lifted his chin a little, even, to let him know he absolutely didn’t mind. Except his hand lifted up onto his fingertips and started at the base of his throat. Slowly, his index finger traced up the length of his neck with a feather-light touch and Wei Wuxian followed it until his head was tilted back. His eyes fell closed at the strange, overwhelming sensation that came with Lan Zhan’s penetrating stare on his neck. He’d almost forgotten what he was doing.

“Mn,” Lan Zhan said, gently grabbing his chin to urge him to look him in the eyes again. It was rare that he made eye contact, rare that he willingly touched someone, and Wei Wuxian had never been more aware of those two things until that moment. “Beautiful.”

“Thanks,” Wei Wuxian said, voice softer than usual and a little confused.

Lan Zhan’s fingers grazed over his jaw, his cheek bones, his ears. He dragged his middle finger over his chapped lips and his index finger down the length of his nose. His thumb gently slid across the skin beneath his eyes. Each touch felt sacred and overwhelming. That excitement in his stomach tightened into desire. Lan Zhan never stopped staring.

“So beautiful,” Lan Zhan repeated, his gaze somehow even more intense.

Wei Wuxian felt trapped in it for all of 5 seconds before he laughed nervously.

“Someone woke up extra shameless today,” he teased. Lan Zhan didn’t even blush. “Ah, stop looking at me like that! What am I supposed to do with that?”

Lan Zhan just blinked all slow and the corner of his lips pulled up. Wei Wuxian took a dramatic breath and he looked over to the side to make it seem like he was just playing. But, honestly, he felt like he was going to explode. Which was not at all helped by Lan Zhan touching his jaw and making him look at him again.

“You know, I’m really struggling to see your motives here, Lan Zhan, truly,” Wei Wuxian said, though he very much enjoyed the way he was being touched.

It’d taken years of pestering him to get him to act on it because of all the rules in the Cloud Recesses. He’d stayed perfectly pristine until last summer when he was tasked with taking the Jiangs and Wei Ying to the city so they could head back to Yunmeng. It was late, they were getting a room at an inn, and suddenly he had Lan Zhan willing to break a few rules. Even now, with Wei Wuxian finished with regular schooling and willing and able to spend all his time training at the Cloud Recesses, this was the first time he’d been so bold while still in the confines of it.

“Ah, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian sighed sweetly, “You expect me to just go to dinner and back to my room after this? Have you decided to be a giant tease? Isn’t that my job?”

Lan Zhan’s hand slowly slipped from his jaw, tracing down his chest and securing his grip on his hip. Wei Wuxian watched him with nothing short of intrigue as he leaned forward and stole a short kiss. Before he even had a moment to fully process the fact that he’d kissed him inside the Cloud Recesses in the middle of the day, Lan Zhan got even more bold and Wei Wuxian was on his back in the grass.

“And to think someone once called you an ascetic,” Wei Wuxian laughed, smiling helpless at the man who hovered above him. His long, traditional hair that had never seen a pair of scissors and that ribbon that was an age old custom suddenly seemed to make him look even more untamed as he looked over Wei Wuxian, eyes trying to decide what he wanted to do first. Wei Wuxian wished he could peer into his mind and see his ideas‒but, perhaps the element of surprise was also fun. “It was me. I once called you an ascetic. Never again, Lan Zhan! No, you’re not one to avoid pleasures in life. At least, not when I’m the pleasu‒”

Lan Zhan moved down in that moment, kissing him like he’d been waiting the whole week to do so. And maybe he had. Wei Wuxian had been back in the confines of the Cloud Recess for a week and they hadn’t once gotten the chance to really sneak away.

And, well, if they couldn’t sneak away outside of the Cloud Recesses, they would just have to sneak away within them.

Wei Ying watched as Lan Zhan kissed over his clothed chest, slow and patient and like it was important. It had him feeling both insecure and ungodly overwhelmed with adoration all at the same time. His stomach was so tense, like he was seconds away from exploding. And how fitting was it that it was at Lan Zhan’s hand?

“Ah, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, what the hell are you doing to me?” he said. Lan Zhan lifted his head and tilted it to the side, long hair cascading down in a way that was borderline obscene.

“I’ll stop.”

“What? No, if you stop, I will literally cry,” he said hurriedly. Lan Zhan smiled that little smile of his and blinked all slow with nothing but pure fondness. “Why are you looking at me like that?! Do you want to kill me?”

And without another word, because he typically didn’t have many, Lan Zhan bowed his head again. He kissed down his chest until he lifted the hem of his shirt. Wei Wuxian sighed in approval and closed his eyes, his hands gripping the grass beneath him as Lan Zhan kissed his bare hip. His hands squeezed his thighs for extra measure as his tongue pressed into his skin.

“Beautiful,” he whispered. Or, Wei Wuxian assumed that’s what he said. He could feel his lips moving like he said something, but it was too quiet and he was too far away from his ears. But that’s what he said before so it seemed like a safe guess.

Lan Zhan kissed up, up, up, his head all but being buried under his shirt. It was all slow, full of teeth and tongue and wet, needy kisses as his hands seemed to touch every inch they could. Wei Wuxian couldn’t make sense of what had gotten into him. Sure, they hooked up sometimes, but that was all in the darkness and it never felt like this. Never…

“Have you ever looked at yourself?” Lan Zhan asked, voice still soft, but he’d kissed all the way up to Wei Wuxian’s heart. His hand splayed across his bare stomach, his thumb tracing from his sternum down to his navel in a slow and deliberate motion. Wei Wuxian’s head spun. “You’re so…”

He trailed off, not finishing his sentence as he kissed back down. He left Wei Ying’s shirt all bunched up five inches above his jeans, kissing over it until he got to the crook of his neck. His long, skilled fingertips trailed over Wei Wuxian’s arms until they got to his hands. He slowly plucked them from where they’d dug into the grass and kissed him harder as he brought his hands over his head.

“I’m so what?” Wei Wuxian asked, his voice more breathy than he would’ve liked, “Go on, Lan Zhan, don’t leave me wondering.”

Lan Zhan breathed him in, a small little groan emitting from his throat as he bit into the skin where his neck met his shoulder. Wei Wuxian’s lips parted in something between shock and absolute pleasure, a moan infiltrated with giggles. Lan Zhan squeezed his hands and dragged his mouth to the other side of his neck.

“Beautiful.”

“You need a bigger vocabulary.”

“Mn.”

“See? Proof that Lan Zhan’s vocabulary is so, so small for someone so smart.”

He wasn’t sure why the hell he was still talking. It didn’t seem like he should be teasing him like that, but he couldn’t stop. Maybe Jiang Cheng was right in saying his mouth was a curse.

Lan Zhan, however, didn’t seem bothered or even minutely phased as he kissed over his clothed shoulder and then up his bare arm. Technically, they were supposed to wear either long sleeves and slacks or traditional robes while in the Cloud Recesses, but they’d given up trying to get him to do that years ago after many, many destroyed articles of clothing. And it all benefited this moment.

Wei Wuxian turned to watch him, adoration bubbling in him as Lan Zhan’s cute little nose smushed against his arm. That same cute little nose got caught in the crook of his elbow as Lan Zhan pressed a wet, open-mouthed kiss to his bicep that was honestly more tongue than anything. Wei Wuxian‒cursed, truly‒let out a laugh that was somewhere between awe and desire and not at all appropriate for the tone Lan Zhan was setting. Still, Lan Zhan smiled in that very tiny way of his and rubbed his nose against his arm just a little.

“You’re so good,” Lan Zhan offered this time, his words quiet and said into the skin of his arm. Wei Ying swallowed, shifting a little as if that would help him get closer than they already were.

“I’m just me,” he said. Honestly, he thought he was pretty average in all aspects on a good day. Lan Zhan, ever the charmer, nodded and moved to kiss his lips.

“I know,” he said into his mouth, “And you’re good.”

Wei Wuxian, for once in his life, found the effort to shut the fuck up for a minute. He let himself be kissed and gave as good as he got. That is, until Lan Zhan moved his kisses over his cheek, over his nose, his forehead, and placed gentle little pecks on his eyelids. Wei Wuxian smiled.

“So, beautiful and good,” he echoed, unable to keep his mouth shut anymore, “I can think of a few more words to describe Lan Zhan.”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan hummed, idle fingertips dragging down his sides. They traveled a more interesting path on their way up, tracing all the scars that he had on his chest and his stomach from years of being inherently accident prone and reckless. He wasn’t quite sure how he’d memorized them like that‒Wei Wuxian hadn’t even remembered all of them and they were on his body. “Perfect.”

“Okay, well, that’s‒” Wei Wuxian cut himself off with involuntary giggles as Lan Zhan tucked his face back into his neck, kissing with such fervor that his whole body seemed to rock back into the grass. Those strong, calloused fingers gripped his thighs in the same instant and hiked them up onto his hips. “Lan Zhan.”

“Mn.”

“You’re, you’re‒You’re,” Wei Wuxian gasped, his mind scrambling with the instinct to speak when he couldn’t make sense of why he was being handled like this. Handled like he was something to be taken care of and wanted and not just someone. As if he was liked and wanted because he was Wei Ying, not because he was Wei Wuxian, cultivation prodigy, golden core “suspiciously strong” for a man of 20 who only began training at 14. He was typically only liked because of that.

Lan Zhan lifted his head, eyes dragging up his face in a way that certainly did not feel real. Once they locked on his eyes, Wei Wuxian’s mouth was too dry to speak.

“I’m?” Lan Zhan asked, voice deep and smooth and dear god.

Wei Wuxian let out a breath of disbelief as he took in his face. Sweet, reserved Lan Zhan had just been casually hiding what felt like a goddamn seductress inside him.

“Unfair,” Wei Ying eventually said. Lan Zhan’s face faltered just a little.

“Unfair?” he repeated. Wei Wuxian reached out to touch his lips, damp and a little swollen from kissing him all over. He wouldn’t be able to hide that in the time they had before they had to go take dinner with his uncle. It would just be on display.

“How come you didn’t tell me you could be like this? You little minx!”

Lan Zhan made that face that was the equivalent of a full body eye roll for someone on his level of expression and Wei Wuxian instantly started laughing. Lan Zhan signed, but the fondness was obvious on his pretty features. He moved down more, his lips hovering over Wei Wuxian’s and his long hair creating a wall around them. He’d teased him a lot for never having had a haircut in his life, but he was suddenly grateful for it. He didn’t want his Lan Zhan to be any different.

He pressed a kiss to Wei Wuxian’s lips, slow and careful. Wei Wxian put his arms around his neck to hold him there, cautious of the ribbon that didn’t hold as much weight as it once did. Wei Wuxian had touched it before, but only when he was teasing. It felt different to touch it when he was serious.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan breathed against his lips. Wei Wuxian nearly melted into the ground.

He considered making a joke about how he was so charmed that they would have to get a shovel to remove the pile of Wei Wuxian goo he’d reduced him to, but, instead, he just said, “Yeah?”

Lan Zhan repeated a careful, “Wei Ying.”

He was going to respond, but then Lan Zhan’s hand laid over his golden core. He breathed a soft, shaky breath as he felt just the tiniest pulse of spiritual energy being transferred to him. It was strange because he wasn’t hurt or drained in anyway. All it did was make it feel like a momentary high. He made him feel powerful in a way that was just theirs.

Wei Ying chased his lips for a kiss in response, feeling more than a little overwhelmed and breathless and he was met with the same enthusiasm. He traced his fingers down the length of Lan Zhan’s back in that stupidly expensive dress shirt and gave a little bit of his own spiritual energy right back. Lan Zhan, Lan Wangji, Hanguang-Jun, moaned quiet and low in the back of his throat and had Wei Ying feeling thoroughly fucked. How had life ever felt complete without that noise?

Lan Zhan’s hand slid down, finding itself tucked between where their hips met. Wei Wuxian squeezed his thighs around his waist a little tighter in a mix of anticipation and approval. As that big hand palmed him over his jeans, he smiled.

“You’re such a rebel,” Wei Wuxian said, unable to keep his mouth shut even when he knew he probably should. Or maybe not. He wasn’t quite sure how sound traveled in the Cloud Recesses. He knew it was quiet, but they were also relatively secluded. “Never imagined the pristine Lan Wangji would be feeling me up‒outside of all places. I can hear your uncle blaming me for this. You’re such a bad, bad bo‒wow, okay, wow, wow. Ah, what was your fancy title? The, the dumb one that‒ah, holy fu‒Hanguang-Jun! Is that a superficial title they gave you like a courtesy name or, or is there a‒fuck.”

Lan Zhan just listened contently as he kissed his jaw, pushing his hand down a little harder before he moved to unbutton his jeans. Wei Ying breathed in, giving him small words of approval all the while. His hand slid inside his briefs, warm skin against skin.

“Beautiful,” Lan Zhan said again, fingers curling around him in a way that had his heart pounding. Wei Ying took a shaky breath and nodded his head. He never liked hearing a word more in his life.

“Wei Wuxian?! Lan Wangji?!”

“Oh my god,” Wei Wuxian whined, genuinely almost brought to tears as Lan Zhan removed himself and fixed his jeans with a simple hand movement. He returned to his spot against the tree, unaffected, and barely sparing Wei Wuxian a second glance as he laid there. “This is it. This is where I die. This is hell. I’m going to kill him with my bare hands.”

“There you are,” Jiang Cheng said as he appeared. He looked between them like he suspected something was off, but couldn’t quite place it. Sweet, innocent, horrible Jiang Cheng. “Why do you look like you just ran? I thought there was no running in the Cloud Recesses.”

“Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian said, “I mean this in the most loving way possible: I hate you.”

Jiang Cheng glared at him, clearly still not catching on. Wei Wuxian would’ve thought it was adorable if he wasn’t frustrated or if he had as much self-restraint as Lan Zhan clearly did. He looked completely fine‒even his hair was perfect!

“I was trying to help you both not get in trouble, but fine, get punished for all I care,” Jiang Cheng said, his eyebrows all furrowed and angry. Wei Wuxian slowly pushed himself into a sitting position. His body felt awkward and tense and simultaneously over and understimulated, but he clearly didn’t have a choice but to power through.

“Why would we get in trouble? We aren’t due to dinner until sundown,” Wei Wuxian, pointing to the sun that was still high in the sky and making Lan Zhan look like a goddamn painting, “Sun is still very up.”

“Lan Xichen has just arrived,” Jiang Cheng said, looking to Lan Wangji before looking back to Wei Wuxian more pointedly, “Early.”

That was enough to get their attention.

“Okay, we’ll be there,” he said, pushing himself to his feet. He held out his hand to Lan Zhan to help him up, but he disregarded it completely as he grabbed Bichen on his way up. Wei Wuxian still smiled at him and his overly red lips. “Did he say anything to you about coming back early?”

“No,” Lan Zhan said.

“Then I guess we’ll have to go see for ourselves,” Wei Wuxian decided, swiftly turning on his heels and grabbing his bag and Suibian.

He made it two steps before he remembered that he’d been painting his nails before all of that. He quickly looked around and saw not a stray drop of it anywhere and Lan Zhan’s singular painted hand wasn’t even smudged. The little bottle was closed securely and had found its home in Lan Zhan’s hand. He’d clearly used a bit of spiritual energy when he’d pushed him into the grass to prevent a disaster from happening.

“You clever boy,” Wei Wuxian teased quietly, elbowing him lightly as they followed Jiang Cheng through the trees. Lan Zhan didn’t respond, but he didn’t miss the smile threatening his lips.

Wei Wuxian stared for a moment, taking in that adorable little expression before he jogged up to be beside Jiang Cheng. His brother was still glaring so he shoved him a little.

“Stop pouting.”

“I’m not pouting.”

“Sure,” he said, grinning, “Did Sect Leader Lan say anything about why he showed up early?”

“No, he just did and I was tasked with going to find you,” Jiang Cheng said, “A thankless act, really.”

“Well, thank you, Jiang Cheng!” Wei Wuxian offered, a little more exaggerated than necessary if only to bother him. He rolled his eyes.

“If I’d known you were just distracting Lan Wangji from getting any work down, I might’ve found you prevent us being thrown out of the Cloud Recesses because of your bullshit,” he said. Wei Wuxian snorted, ruffling his clueless brother’s hair.

“Ah, Jiang Cheng, trust me, you’ve misunderstood. Lan Zhan and I are very close, I don’t annoy him one bit. Isn’t that right, Lan Zhan?” he said, looking over his shoulder.

“Mn.”

“See!”

“Yeah, that was real convincing,” Jiang Cheng grumbled. Wei Wuxian smiled and pinched his cheek.

“Don’t be so hateful, Jiang Cheng,” he cooed. Jiang Cheng shoved him off and Wei Wuxian just laughed.

He managed to regain composure by the time they got to the Yashi, the very traditional and very old meeting room. Wei Wuxian almost felt bad for entering it in jeans and a t-shirt. Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren were both waiting for them in their business-esque clothes‒which was honestly a relief considering they usually broke out the formal robes for serious meetings‒and they all bowed in greeting.

“Brother,” Lan Zhan said, stepping closer, “Has something happened?”

“Must there be a reason to return home? This is my Sect,” Lan Xichen said, casual enough, but something about it sounded off. Lan Xichen was always a portrait of what a cultivator was expected to be‒smart, kind, and humble. But even that was too friendly for Lan Xichen.

Lan Zhan seemed to notice that as well, eyeing him slightly even as he nodded. They all seemed to disregard that though as they all sat and spoke of their training to eventually lead juniors in nighthunts. Lan Qiren was, as always, reluctant to praise Wei Wuxian, but even he couldn’t deny that he had some level of talent. The spite was definitely a driving factor in what kept Wei Wuxian on track.

Eventually, they took dinner in silence‒all silent except for when Lan Qiren nearly choked at the sight of Lan Zhan’s nails. Wei Wuxian’s eyes kept drifting back to Lan Zhan, body still craving him from their unfinished encounter. Well, he would still stare at him without that. He was hard not to stare at. But then being rudely interrupted didn’t help sway him. He found himself shifting in discomfort just from watching the way he used his chopsticks with those goddamn fingers and the way his lips wrapped around, well, everything. Literally what the fuck.

“Stop fidgeting,” Jiang Cheng hissed as they finished their meal.

Wei Wuxian looked at him with pleading eyes, willing him to understand that it really wasn’t his fault that he was being tortured. Even worse knowing that he couldn’t even meet up with Lan Zhan after this. He would probably be with Lan Xichen until curfew and if there was one thing Lan Zhan refused to break, it was curfew in the Cloud Recesses. Stupid Lans and their stupid ability to pass out immediately after nine.

“Young Master Wei,” Lan Xichen, regal as ever, said. Wei Wuxian perked up. “I understand your cultivation levels are rather impressive. Wangji has told me you’ve created a few new talismans.”

“Yes, Sect Leader Lan,” he said. Outside of the Cloud Recesses, Lan Xichen easily blended in and requested that they call him by his courtesy name rather than any other titles. But, still, in the Cloud Recesses, he had to be formal. As annoying as that way. “I can show you a few.”

“Later, yes, please. I am particularly interested in the way you’ve updated a few older ones, though. Wangji spoke of one you used on your last nighthunt. He said it’s some sort of reusable talisman?” Lan Xichen said. Wei Wuxian nodded and smiled, stealing a glance at Lan Zhan whose eyes were downcast as they usually were. It was even cuter when he realized he was bragging about him.

“Yes, I’ve found if you use a more durable item, not paper, but plastic or even a softer cloth, then it’s easier to sort of load more talismans and spiritual energy within them. They don’t last forever, of course, and I still have a lot of tinkering to do, but it came in handy! I was able to send multiple flame talismans in a row without needing to rewrite them. I still haven’t figured out how to put multiple different talismans on one of them, but I want to,” he explained. Lan Xichen was smiling at him in that way that seemed a lot deeper than just a smile, but that’s how his smiles always seemed. Wei Wuxian had long since accepted them as just the exact same thing as Lan Zhan’s blank stares.

“You’ll have to show me, that sounds very interesting.”

He then turned to Jiang Cheng and asked about his own cultivation progress along with a soft question about his inheritance of Zidian. Yu Ziyuan had given it to him after her own cultivation had begun to blend with her pre-existing anger and she’d made the right decision to retire from it before it killed her. As cool as Zidian was to have, it was still a touchy subject.

“But you’re handling it well? It’s not too much?” Lan Xichen clarified, “A spiritual tool often takes a lot of discipline, if you need any help, just ask.”

“It’s going alright,” Jiang Cheng said honestly, “But thank you. If I have any questions, I’ll be sure to ask them.”

They spoke a bit more about the logistics of it and how it was very unique and Wei Wuxian began to tune out. His eyes drifted to Lan Zhan who was staring forward, still as a rock. Wei Wuxian had a theory that he simply went into a meditative state every time he didn’t feel like being involved in a conversation. He liked to think he sunk into daydreams of doing things that were very Lan Zhan like making spreadsheets of different talismans or taking a nap in a field surrounded by bunnies that wake him up with little licks to his face. The idea alone was too adorable to handle and he was smiling at him across the table.

Lan Wangji looked at him from the corner of his eye and raised his eyebrow a bit in question. Wei Wuxian just smiled even more, his eyes squinting into crescents from the force of it. He was so cute. How was one person so cute?

All of it was ruined by Jiang Cheng elbowing him and Wei Wuxian turned his head to him in confusion. Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren were both looking at him, one with a very fond smile and one with something that could be classified as well contained rage. Wei Wuxian felt his cheeks turn a bit hot and he let out a fun laugh.

“Sorry, sorry, was there a question?” he asked. Lan Xichen breathed out of his nose in something akin to a laugh.

“I had asked if you’ve found a spiritual tool,” he said. Wei Wuxian’s mouth formed an ‘o’ in acknowledgement and he nodded before quickly shaking his head.

“No, I haven’t. I only have Suibian and I can only carry that around sometimes, you know,” Wei Wuxian explained, patting the sword that rested beside him. Lan Xichen nodded with a smile.

“I know,” he said, “Your cultivation is unique, you might not have one at all.”

“Who knows.”

Lan Xichen eventually suggested they retire to their rooms and that they would meet in the morning to go over their plans they’d made for their mock water demon hunt. Wei Wuxian hoped he wouldn’t need paper and that Lan Xichen would accept his rambling. He probably would, Lan Xichen was nice like that.

“I thought Lan Qiren was going to murder you,” Jiang Cheng said as they walked to the dormitory. They were the oldest there at the moment and some of the only non-Lans since the younger cultivators from other Sects weren’t coming for a few more weeks. They just so happened to be the only competent ones from their year next to Lan Zhan that were eligible to learn to teach. “You’ve got to stop bothering Lan Wangji or he’s going to throw you out.”

“I’m really not bothering him,” Wei Wuxian insisted, “I promise.”

“Look,” Jiang Cheng sighed, turning to him with the utmost brotherly face. It looked like he genuinely cared. Wei Wuxian almost pinched his little cheek. “I know you have a crush on him‒which is fine, no judgment from me‒but he’s one of the most traditional cultivators alive. If he was interested in you back, I think it would be more complicated than just casually dating.”

“Why would it be complicated?” Wei Wuxian asked. There was absolutely nothing complicated about it in his mind.

“Well, wouldn’t he expect you to court him? I mean, the Lans all still court properly,” Jiang Cheng said. Which, honestly, was the first time Wei Wuxian ever thought about it. “I’m just looking out for you, but do whatever you want. If Lan Qiren murders you for it, it’s not my fault.”

“Ah, Jiang Cheng! There’s no courting happening,” he said. The idea alone was scary. He was 20 and had the whole world ahead of him. Besides, Lan Zhan hadn’t said anything about it. They were fine. “And he won’t kill me, Lan Zhan won’t let him.”

Jiang Cheng sighed and rolled his eyes, shoving him a little. Wei Wuxian just grinned as they stepped into their rooms. Wei Wuxian stayed on one side while Jiang Cheng stayed on the other, both of their own spaces had doors and in between had a little common area for them to take dinner. He quite liked the whole set up, it made it feel very quaint and homey in a way staying with the Jiangs never really felt. Not to say that it didn’t feel like home there, just that he didn’t have to walk on as many eggshells in his own space.

He closed the door to his space behind him, reveling at the disordered mess it was. It felt nice to be a bit messy. As long as Lan Qiren didn’t know about it then he could be as messy as possible and he’d stop having mandatory room inspections when he turned 18. It made him smile.

Wei Wuxian waded through his mess to get to his bed and took his hair out of the messy bun he’d had it in, sighing in relief as he flung his red ribbon to the side. He’d kept it short back when he was younger, but he’d started to grow it out once he got the lecture that cultivators usually kept their hair long. Something about helping them stay in tune with their ancestors and their own spiritual energy‒Wei Wuxian was pretty sure it was more about the aesthetic. That being said, it sat at his shoulders and he was still learning how to work with it.

He fell onto his bed and dug underneath his pillow for where his phone sat on the charger. It was technically forbidden to have phones inside the Cloud Recesses, but that usually just meant when they were out and about. Even Lan Zhan had one‒that he barely used, but it existed.

He checked it, only seeing a message from his sister saying she hoped he had a good day because she sent him that every day and he might actually get it in the morning if the Cloud Recesses weren’t so ridiculous about waking up at five in the morning. He replied saying he did and asked her how hers went before he pushed himself up to contemplate a shower.

He’d resigned to forgoing it until the morning after realizing it was already two minutes away from 9 and was already stepping into his sweatpants when his phone lit up. He expected another text from his sister, but it wasn’t.

Lan Zhan: Jingshi.

Wei Wuxian found himself blinking far too many times as well as closing and reopening his messages. Jingshi. Lan Zhan wanted him to go to his personal rooms after curfew. His skin slowly started to feel warm again and that desire he’d spent hours trying to ignore came back without any trouble. He’d never been inside the Jingshi at all before.

“You little rebel,” Wei Wuxian whispered to himself, unable to hide his smile as he quickly put his shoes on and started to tiptoe out of the building so Jiang Cheng wouldn’t notice.

If he ran to the Jingshi, no one was awake to witness.

When he got to the secluded room, the lights were still on and Wei Wuxian was straight giddy. He didn’t bother knocking since Lan Zhan had asked him to come, just pushing open the door and eager to pick up where they left off.

“Ah, Lan Zhan, dinner was torture! All I could picture was your hand on my‒”

Wei Wuxian paused as he rounded the corner and saw Lan Xichen kneeling at the table, a pleasant smile in full swing. Lan Zhan knelt beside him, a glare in his eyes as his ears burned bright red. Wei Wuxian let out an awkward laugh.

“Sect Leader Lan,” he greeted, bowing as well as he could, “Funny meeting you here.”

“Young Master Wei,” Lan Xichen said, nodding to him, “Glad you could make it.”

“Yeah,” he said, clearing his throat, “Uh, what’s going on?”

“Come, sit,” he urged. Wei Wuxian did so, feeling out of place in his sweats and t-shirt when they were both still prim and proper. He looked at Lan Zhan, but he was looking down at the table and not a trace of what was going on was obvious on his face. “I needed to speak to you two.”

“I take full responsibility and I apologize and accept punishment, Lan Wangji had nothing to do with it,” Wei Wuxian said quickly. It wasn’t the first time he’d given that speech and he figured he’d say it a few hundred more before he died. Lan Xichen, however, just smiled a bit brighter.

“You aren’t in trouble,” Lan Xichen promised. Wei Wuxian nodded slowly. “I actually came back early for a reason, but it needs to be kept a secret. I presume I can trust you both to keep a secret?”

“Yes, of course,” Wei Wuxian said. Lan Zhan nodded in tandem.

“When I was in Qinghe, Sect Leader Nie and I traveled a bit after hearing a few stories of a clearing of sorts with a mythical beast residing in it. It was a large burnt space in the middle of the woods that it was using as housing, but the creature we saw was rather unconventional,” he said. Wei Wuxian, interest already more than piqued, leaned forward.

“Unconventional how?”

“When we got near it, as much as it would allow, but it seemed to be very similar to the Vermilion Bird,” Lan Xichen said. Wei Wuxian smiled and looked to Lan Zhan who didn’t seem excited at all. Boring. “Obviously, it needs to be taken care of if it’s able to burn entire sections of trees like that, but I don’t want to worry the cultivation world. I was hoping you both could come up to Qinghe and the four of us could try to eliminate the situation.”

“Yes, absolutely, when do we leave?” Wei Wuxian said. Lan Xichen laughed a little.

“I appreciate the enthusiasm, Young Master Wei. Tomorrow evening is when I’m planning to leave.”

“Perfect. I can’t wait. Did you gather any more information on the creature, or just that it resembles the Vermilion Bird? Does that mean it’s wings are made of fire? Are they aflame at all times? Should I bring pre-made talismans for things? Lan Zhan, do you think I could make a reverse flame talisman that snuffed flames‒or maybe even water itself? We should work on that tonight or in the morning because I know you like your sleep. Xichen, eh, Sect Leader Lan, do you think it’ll be in the same place or will it have moved?” Wei Wuxian rambled, already picturing it in his mind. Lan Xichen laughed softly.

“We’ll talk about all of the details when we meet up with Sect Leader Nie, but, yes, as far as we could tell, it’s wings were flames. And, please, work on talismans and bring whatever you think might be useful. There’s a reason I’m coming to you both,” he said. Wei Wuxian nodded his excitement and then turned fully to Lan Zhan to get excited with him. Only he was still looking down with that faraway look in his eye.

“Lan Zhan, what do you think? You wanna make some magic with me?” Wei Wuxian said suggestively, nudging his arm. He just stared blankly.

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen said softly, “Is something wrong? Do you not want to?”

Lan Zhan stayed silent for a long while and they both waited for him to find his words. Sometimes it took him a bit longer than others. Wei Wuxian glanced over to Lan Xichen again and the smile he gave him was one of the most forced ones he’d ever seen. So Wei Wuxian scooted a bit closer to Lan Zhan.

“What’s going on up there?” he asked, tapping his forehead above his ribbon. Lan Zhan’s eyes formed a glare and Wei Wuxian smiled bright right back.

“Is it safe?” Lan Zhan asked, looking to his brother, “To go without a formal report and with only four cultivators?”

“Ah, who cares? Cultivation isn’t safe! I could go alone and it’d be fine,” Wei Wuxian insisted. Lan Zhan’s jaw clenched. It took a lot of willpower not to touch it until he relaxed.

“I think it would be safer with three men I trusted than an army of people I couldn’t keep a proper eye on,” Lan Xichen explained, “And, truly, I would’ve taken it on with only Nie Mingjue, but I felt this would be very good experience for the two of you. If you aren’t comfortable, you don’t have to come.”

“But I can still come, right?” Wei Wuxian clarified. Lan Xichen nodded.

“I’ll come,” Lan Zhan said. Wei Wuxian smiled even brighter and turned his gaze to Lan Xichen.

“Perfect. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

They all said their goodnights and gave respectful bows before Lan Xichen left with that knowing smile on his lips. It didn’t bother Wei Wuxian one bit. At least one of them had a brother that wasn’t completely clueless. Wei Wuxian leaned to make sure the door was closed all the way before he scooted even closer to Lan Wangji.

“Since when do you ask if something is safe?” he asked, reaching out to pull all of Lan Zhan’s hair off his shoulder. Lan Zhan was watching him from the corner of his eye despite his stony glare, so Wei Wuxian smirked and pressed a kiss to his bare neck. “Lan Wangji fears nothing, I thought.”

Lan Zhan kept his breathing annoyingly even as Wei Wuxian pressed slow kisses on every empty space he could. He was even more eager than before to pick up where they’d left off. Something about a super fucking cool nighthunt had his adrenaline pumping and there was truly only one way to put that to good use at this time of night.

“Is Hanguang-Jun worried about failing?” Wei Wuxian teased, finally dragging his fingers over that perfect jaw, “Or, maybe, Hanguang-Jun is scared of someone getting hurt.”

Lan Zhan swiftly stood up after that, leaving Wei Wuxian on the ground as he walked over to his little vanity and started to unpin his hair. Wei Wuxian didn’t bother to be offended as he laughed, leaning back and watching how pretty he looked with all of his hair down.

“I’m messing with you, I know you’re just as curious as I am,” he said, tilting his head. Lan Zhan ran a comb through his hair despite the fact he was still fully dressed. Well, aside from his shoes which had been left at the door. His socked feet, however, were adorable. “I think you’re just scared you’re going to get in trouble because we aren’t giving a formal report, but we’re doing this with two Sect Leaders. Two really powerful and badass Sect Leaders. It’s fine.”

“I do not care.”

“Seems like you do,” Wei Wuxian pointed out. Lan Zhan said nothing and Wei Wuxian just sighed and laid on the floor. “You know, I’ve never been in your room before, Lan Zhan, it looks like you. Very white and blue, pretty, put together, fancy. I would say I’d be scared to touch anything, but I like touching your things.”

He lifted his head a little to see what Lan Zhan’s reaction was and was pleased to see his cheeks were a bit red. Wei Wuxian huffed a laugh and let his head fall back to the ground.

“Come on, Lan Zhan! Don’t be boring! Let’s be productive tonight, I have so many ideas of things we can create! Help me play with some talismans or invent something or, or anything. Come play with me,” he pouted. When he looked over at him this time, he was significantly more red. He smiled to himself.

“Go to bed,” Lan Zhan said simply. Wei Wuxian gave an admittedly obnoxious whine.

“I came all the way here and you’re going to make me go back? Are you trying to torture me?”

“Wei Ying.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll go to bed,” Wei Wuxian said, pushing himself up. He watched Lan Zhan carefully as he just walked right over to his bed, throwing himself down. Lan Zhan’s face turned into something truly scandalized and he whipped around to face him, glaring. Wei Wuxian just laughed. “What? Why are you acting like you didn’t just have you hand down my pants a few hours ago? Are you that worried about this hunt? It’s going to be fun!”

Lan Zhan didn’t answer, he just sighed and turned back to his mirror. He put his comb down and carefully grabbed his nightclothes from a drawer, walking away and into the bathroom to change. Wei Wuxian grabbed his pillow and tucked it under his head. A few minutes later, Lan Zhan emerged looking all soft and cozy with his forehead ribbon retired for the night. Wei Wuxian patted the space beside him on the bed.

It took a few moments of thinking which Wei Wuxian gave to him without judgement before he actually sat on the bed. Wei Wuxian pushed himself up and reached out, putting his hand on his cheek and leaning in to rest his forehead against his. Lan Zhan’s eyes stayed firmly downcast.

“Lan Zhan,” he said softly, softer than he ever usually was because he knew that’s how he got his way when it came to this man, “What are you worried about?”

A long, long stretch of silence sat between them before Lan Zhan’s eyes flickered up to meet his. They were so pretty, all pale and golden and perfect.

“If the bird is staying in place, it’s guarding something. If it’s what the Vermilion Bird was modeled after, it’s old and it’s fierce. How are we sure unleashing what it’s protecting is the best option?” he said. A pulse of complete and utter adoration clenched around Wei Wuxian’s heart. He was so pretty and smart. Unfair.

“We don’t know and we can’t know until we find out. But if you help me create some spells and talismans, we could be prepared to deal with it. I’m sure your brother is fully aware of what we could be walking onto. Do you honestly think Nie Mingjue would back off from something just because it could be a teaching lesson? No, they both think it’s something bigger than just that,” Wei Wuxian said, rubbing his thumb over his cheekbone. Lan Zhan’s eyes half-heartedly followed it. “It’s going to be fine. And, well, if it’s not, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Lan Zhan looked at him like that was the worst question to ask which, granted, it probably was. Still, Wei Ying laughed and nudged his nose against his.

“It’s going to be fine and fun. Let me do the overthinking, I’m better at it,” he insisted. Lan Zhan blinked slowly and reluctantly nodded once. Wei Wuxian smiled and kissed his lips, finally. His free hand slid up his chest, taking a fistful of his shirt beneath his collar. It wasn’t hard to twist and push him into the mattress, carefully moving to straddle his hips. “Now, tell me, what were you saying about me earlier?”

Lan Zhan’s hand squeezed his thigh with a small pulse of spiritual energy and Wei Ying was barely on top for a moment before he flipped them, settling comfortably between his thighs. Wei Ying laughed and held him closer as Lan Zhan bit into the skin of his neck.

“Perfect.”

“I get to go because I’m a trustworthy and reliable student, that’s why.”

“Bullshit.”

Wei Wuxian grinned as he leaned into Jiang Cheng, prodding him in the stomach and laughing when it earned him a harsh shove. If he earned a few concerned looks from Lan disciples, it didn’t matter.

Lan Xichen had decided to tell Lan Qiren that they were going on a much different, much less interesting nighthunt. Water demons, he’d said, and it was perfect because their current project was about water demons! It took a little more explaining to Jiang Cheng, however, and he was still not happy about it. As much as he wouldn’t admit it, Wei Wuxian could see that he just felt left out.

“Look, as soon as I’m back, we’ll find a much cooler nighthunt to go, just you and me,” Wei Wuxian promised.

“Why, so you can just annoy me the whole time?” he complained. Wei Wuxian threw his arm around his shoulders all over again.

“Don’t be like that, we’ll have fun.”

“I honestly don’t think you were even asked to go on this nighthunt,” Jiang Cheng said, a little bit of bite in his tone, “I think you’re just following your little boyfriend because you can’t be alone for five minutes.”

Wei Wuxian bit the inside of his cheek, his free hand mindlessly rubbing over his neck that had thankfully been free of any bruising by the time he woke up in his own bed. Thank god for golden cores.

“I was invited! And you can play all you want, but you know I’m good enough to be personally invited by Sect Leader Lan,” Wei Wuxian said. Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes so hard it looked like it probably hurt.

“Shut up, stop bragging.”

“Is it bragging if it’s simply honest?”

“Yes.”

“Listen, Jiang Wanyin,” Wei Wuxian said, getting a brand new eye roll, “Don’t think too hard. Lan Zhan and I just fight very well together. He’s my zhiji.”

“He’s my zhiji,” Jiang Cheng mocked and Wei Wuxian smiled.

“See, you get it!”

“Fuck off. Go fight your little water demon and I’m holding you to finding something cooler,” Jiang Cheng said.

“Ah, you know I will! Don’t underestimate me!”

Eventually, they found their way to the Yashi where they planned to take lunch before the three of them would be off to meet up with Nie Mingjue. They walked in and bowed, respectful as always. Lan Zhan was already sitting there, eyes downcast and his hair half pulled back along with his forehead ribbon to show he was in his formal state. Wei Wuxian wanted nothing more than to kiss his cheek until he turned so red he looked like he was covered in rouge.

He didn’t, though. Instead, he sat down beside him and spared him nothing but a small smile. Lan Zhan reached out to pour his tea, his nails still only painted on one hand. He adored it more than he should. So much that he didn’t even notice Lan Qiren staring at them like he was about to pop until he was already taking a sip.

“We should be back within two days time,” Lan Xichen said somewhere along the line, after Wei Wuxian had given Lan Qiren a smile and Jiang Cheng had poured both of their superiors’ tea because he was a good little Jiang Cheng.

“And you think it’s wise to bring both of them?” Lan Qiren clarified. Lan Xichen gave his overly polite smile and nodded.

“Wangji and Young Master Wei have been very impressive and are both incredible swordsmen and cultivators. They’ve worked very well together since they were young, you know this. I think it’s very wise to bring them both,” Lan Xichen said.

It was true, after all. Wei Wuxian didn’t even have to brag to know that. They’d barely known each other and, when they went on their first nighthunt at just fifteen, they’d been nearly flawless at covering for each other while fighting. They were each other’s zhiji, after all. And their bond had only gotten better. His current working theory for why it only got stronger as they aged was that they were now sharing spiritual energy without necessity‒Wei Wuxian’s golden core was just becoming very familiar with Lan Wangji’s.

But, that was only theory.

Lan Qiren eyed them and reluctantly nodded. Lan Zhan’s eyes stayed down.

Their meal was doled out and eaten in silence. Wei Wuxian kept himself as still and respectable as possible, but it was hard when he was excited to see what they were going to be encountering. He’d tried to refrain from coming up with ideas in his mind about what it would look like, but it was difficult. He spent a lot of the morning rambling about nonsense to both Jiang Cheng and Lan Zhan while making a supply of talismans, trying to think of anything but getting too excited about this bird.

But, fuck, it was going to be so cool.

They agreed to write up a report when they got back and had a few more words before standing up to be on their way. Wei Wuxian was already ready to go and on his feet, standing by the door with Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen. Lan Zhan, however, stayed in the main room with Lan Qiren for a moment. So, like a responsible adult, he listened a bit closer.

“Remember the talk we had,” Lan Qiren said quietly, “Because I will not have you repeating your father’s mistakes.”

Lan Zhan didn’t respond, but the two of them walked closer looking stern and irritated. Wei Wuxian thought about asking what exactly that was about, but it wasn’t his place so he didn’t. Instead, he put on a big smile and had every intention of having fun. Besides, once they got outside of the Cloud Recesses, he could be more lenient.

“Be good, little Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian said, patting his head. Jiang Cheng narrowed his eyes at him, but he didn’t dare actually hit him while Grandmaster Lan of all people was right there.

“Don’t die, I don’t feel like having to explain that to anyone that you’re that stupid,” Jiang Cheng said in response. Wei Wuxian smiled as bright as the sun.

“Aw, you do care.”

Lan Qiren didn’t really give any sort of loving goodbye to either of his nephews, simply bowing and walking off to go teach his afternoon lesson. Neither of them looked particularly surprised.

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen said, but Lan Zhan just walked past them and started heading towards the front entrance. Lan Xichen stared after his brother for a moment before he sighed. “Uncle, he’s just…”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” Wei Wuxian said, a playful lilt in his tone but it was true. Lan Qiren didn’t like him and that wasn’t a secret to anyone. Too unpredictable and experimental, he said. As if that was a bad thing!

“Let’s go,” Lan Xichen said. Wei Wuxian gave Jiang Cheng one last salute goodbye before the two of them followed after Lan Zhan.

The moment they exited the Cloud Recesses, Lan Xichen started to make himself look less like the regal cultivator and esteemed Sect Leader he was. He pulled off his forehead ribbon and held it between his lips before he wrapped his hair around itself in a bun and tied it securely in place with the ribbon. Wei Wuxian didn’t miss the way he unbutton the top two buttons of his shirt, nor did he miss the way Lan Zhan did nothing to make himself look more casual. As much as Lan Xichen was the pillar of what a cultivator should be, Lan Zhan was the poster child of everything Lan. Sort of. Wei Wuxian personally thought he was much better than them, regardless of how much he was a product of them.

“We’re going to scout this evening and then get a couple rooms at an inn nearby. Tomorrow, we’ll take care of it.”

They all drew their swords and hopped on, flying into the sky as a much more convenient way of transportation to get to the Qinghe border. Wei Wuxian spent much of it stealing glances at Lan Zhan, wondering what exactly about him would make him follow in his father’s footsteps. He had limited knowledge of the past Sect Leader, only that he died when Lan Zhan was 15 and had spent most of those 15 years in seclusion. Nothing about Hanguang-Jun said seclusion for 13 years and forcing his brother and son to take on his duties.

He tried to distract himself from those thoughts with more enjoyable ones like what his sister might be doing while on her summer trip to Lanling. He liked to imagine her bossing around the Jin Clan heir and him just having to accept it because how could he tell someone as perfect as her no? He then thought about how Jiang Cheng was probably pouting by himself or practicing his control over Zidian‒he was getting better each day, it was impressive.

Wei Wuxian even let his thoughts drift to the night before, to Lan Zhan taking him apart with careful precision and making use of all the time they never usually had. If he closed his eyes, he could still feel his breath on the back of his neck and his excessive praise that was definitely forbidden in the Cloud Recesses. He wasn’t sure why Lan Zhan, the Lannest of all Lans, was so eager to break rules when it came to him. He was sure that it thrilled him every time.

They arrived in Qinghe before sundown, landing with well-practiced ease. Lan Xichen grinned like the sun itself as he sheathed his sword, eyes on Sect Leader Nie and nothing else. He stood tall and broad, his distinct Nie Clan braids pulled into a low ponytail at the base of his neck. He didn’t really offer a smile, but his eyes still landed on Lan Xichen.

“Mingjue,” Lan Xichen greeted, a fond tone in his voice as if they hadn’t just seen each other yesterday morning.

“Xichen,” he said back. Wei Wuxian held back all the teasing words that filled his mind as he stepped up and bowed respectfully.

“Sect Leader Nie,” he said for both him and Lan Zhan who bowed beside him. Nie Mingjue bowed his head in response.

“Young Master Wei, Wangji,” Nie Mingjue said, “I trust Xichen told you what we’re dealing with?”

“The basics! A big fire bird,” Wei Wuxian stated. He nodded slowly, his chest raising with a heavy breath as he clutched Baxia at his side. “Wangji and I were talking about it and we think it’s guarding something.”

Lan Zhan was glaring at the side of his face at this point, he didn’t even have to look over to know that. So he smiled and nudged him, never taking his eyes off of Nie Mingjue’s.

“Yes,” Nie Mingjue agreed, “It seems to be. I’m unsure of why else it’d be staying in place. But I’m also more concerned on why it’s suddenly resurfaced. This thing is unlike anything I’ve ever seen, but it has to be old.”

“Very old,” Lan Xichen added, “But perhaps whatever it’s guarding is causing it to resurface.”

“Do you think whatever it’s guarding is actually trying to resurface and it’s just forcing the bird to?” Wei Wuxian asked, “Because if it’s something that old, that powerful, it’s bound to come around eventually. The balance of things.”

Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue shared a look before turning back to him. It seemed they were already there. Wei Wuxian looked at Lan Zhan as if to say “see?”. He just blinked and turned his eyes to the distance, his chin still raised high.

“Whenever we recover what it is, we’ll need to be extremely careful. No blood or wounds near it. The person with the least depleted spiritual energy will contain it and we’ll try to deal with it without having to involve anyone else,” Lan Xichen said. It was the most stern and adult he’d ever sounded. Wei Wuxian almost felt proud of him even though there was no reason for him to be proud. It wasn’t his brother. But, still.

“Even if it isn’t anything, we’ll still need to be careful. It could easily be extremely misleading,” Nie Mingjue said. They both nodded.

“We’re definitely careful. Right, Lan Zhan?” he said. Lan Zhan just stared blankly towards nowhere. He took that as confirmation. “Besides, I was working on some talismans this morning that might possibly put out flames, but I haven’t gotten the chance to try them out yet. I’ll try them tonight.”

“I can’t wait to see what you come up with,” Lan Xichen said. Wei Wuxian grinned. “Right, let’s go.”

Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan let the two older men walk ahead of them, all four of them clutching their swords as they started to make their way into the woods that would lead them to the Vermilion Bird. Excitement was again beginning to show face inside Wei Wuxian and he couldn’t help the skip in his step. Lan Zhan looked over him and sighed an inaudible sigh, shaking his head slightly.

“What?” Wei Wuxian asked quietly, leaning closer to him. He didn’t smile, but he didn’t not smile. “Hey,” he continued, resisting the urge to move Lan Zhan’s hair off his shoulder, “Do you think your brother is trying to get with Nie Mingjue?”

Lan Zhan snapped his head to face him, eyes completely and utterly scandalized. Whether that be from the accusation or from that fact that they were in earshot, he wasn’t sure. Either way, Wei Wuxian laughed and nudged him.

“I’m kidding,” he said, though he really wasn’t. The two older men were talking to each other in hushed tones, far too interested in each other to hear anything Wei Wuxian was saying. “I would never assume anything about a Sect Leader’s love life. Your love life, however…”

Lan Zhan watched him, eyes narrowed as if just waiting to see what he was going to say. There were a lot of things he could’ve said. Wei Wuxian plucked the fabric of his sleeve and nudged his shoulder into his.

“Jiang Cheng said the Lans still court formally,” he said, smirking as he kept his eyes forward, “Got anyone in mind?”

There was a long, bated silence with nothing but the crunch of leaves and sticks beneath their feet before Lan Zhan gave his staple, “Mn.”

“You do?” Wei Wuxian asked, jumping over a tree root, “Is she pretty?” He laughed when Lan Zhan sighed. “I simply want the best for you, as I want the best for my sister and my brother, so she must be pretty. Oh, and kind.”

Lan Zhan didn’t entertain his teasing, walking a bit faster to be closer behind his brother. Wei Wuxian hid his wide smile to the best of his ability as he caught up with him. He didn’t have much more time for teasing, though, because it wasn’t long before Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen stopped in their tracks. Lan Xichen held up a hand to ask for complete silence.

And then he saw it.

For a moment, Wei Wuxian felt frozen in place. The Vermilion Bird‒because, honestly, calling it anything less sounded like an insult‒was even bigger than he imagined, bigger than he could properly conceptualize even when he was looking at it. It seemed to be the size of a house‒maybe larger‒and was indeed covered in flames and sharp edges. The large field of space surrounding it was all burnt to the ground, but somehow the trees that circled the charred area were unharmed. The only thing not painted black with ash and soot was the bird itself and it’s makeshift nest. Maybe it had babies and that was why it’d resurfaced after all this time. Or maybe it was something much more complicated.

Either way, Wei Wuxian was in awe. Jiang Cheng was truly missing out, he would really have to sell it to pretend whatever hunt they went on next was as cool as this. How the hell was he supposed to wait until tomorrow?

“You’ll need darker clothes,” Wei Wuxian said instead of any of the other thoughts running rampant in his mind, “As handsome as you both are in white and blue, it’ll be too obvious. You’ll be targets.”

Both Lan men looked at him as if that was a distinctly uncharacteristic thing for him to start with. He ignored them and started walking around the perimeter with a cultivator’s lightness, hardly touching the ground so he didn’t garner any unwanted attention.

“We’ll go at it from four different directions,” he said, “I’ll perfect the talisman tonight as we’ll each send a few to tamper down it’s flames or, at the very least, disorient it. The rest… is too difficult to predict. I say we hold off on breaking out the guqins unless absolutely necessary because there aren’t any bird-specific songs, are there? We’ll just have to wing it‒ha, get it, it’s a bird.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said, voice carefully quiet so as not to alert the Vermilion Bird. He grabbed Wei Wuxian’s wrist and pulled him to a stop, forcing him to remember that he wasn’t with juniors or even with Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang. He was with two Sect Leaders who knew what they were doing. He gave an awkward little laugh as both of the older men stared at him with unreadable expressions.

“If you think that’s a good idea, of course,” he offered. Lan Xichen gave his polite smile and nodded.

“Continue,” he urged. Wei Wuxian smiled and pulled his hand out of Lan Zhan’s grasp to walk a step forward and point through the trees. “I think it would be best if I go at it from the front, Lan Zhan attacks from behind, and you two come in at the sides. I’ll be an effective distraction and I can keep throwing and creating talismans quicker since they’re my designs. And we’ll be coming at it from all directions so it will really need to choose which one of us it deems the biggest threat. I don’t mind if it’s me.”

“That sounds like it could work,” Nie Mingjue said, “If you can keep the flames away, then it’ll work.”

“And I’ll make sure that I can. And, well, if I can’t, I’ll just go for it anyway,” Wei Wuxian said, shrugging, “Suibian isn’t scared of a little fire.”

The three of them looked at him like they were beginning to second guess bringing him along if he was just going to be reckless, so he smiled wide and laughed a little to ease their worries. He wasn’t going to get himself killed. People could call him reckless all they wanted, but they could never say he wasn’t resourceful.

Besides, he was intrigued as hell.

“What if it tries to fly away?” Lan Xichen said.

“Talismans,” Nie Mingue answered.

“Ah, Lan Zhan can handle that, can’t you? Get it around its neck like a leash, take it for a walk,” Wei Wuxian suggested. Lan Zhan blinked slowly and nodded. “Great, great. Should we walk the circumference to choose spots?”

They ended up circling the area until the sun went down and then they retreated into the small town to find an inn to stay at for the night. The man behind the desk bowed all respectfully when he realized he was speaking to cultivators, thanking them for all they do, and offering a discount on both the rooms and meals. Lan Xichen was far too polite to agree to that.

“Two rooms, two beds in each, please,” he requested before looking over his shoulder to his brother, “That’s alright, Wangji, isn’t it?”

Lan Zhan nodded solemnly and Lan Xichen seemed pleased, sharing that knowing smile with Wei Wuxian for a moment before looking back to the man behind the desk. Leave it to Lan Xichen to be the most effective wingman. Wei Wuxian had to bite his lips closed to keep himself from saying something he really shouldn’t.

He kept his mouth shut all the way until they got into their room. It had two small beds with only a nightstand between them, a privacy screen towards the far corner, a small table, and a door that he assumed led to a bathroom. Wei Wuxian fell onto the bed closest to the door and leaned back on his hands, looking up at Lan Wangji.

“You think we can both fit in one?” Wei Wuxian asked, “I promise to keep you warm.”

Lan Zhan didn’t give him a moment of his attention, instead placing Bichen on the table. He reached into the qiankun bag that was strapped on his hip and pulled out a few sets of clothes that all fit inside. All of the clothes were white and pale blue and none of them would do well to camouflage himself. Wei Wuxian laughed softly and grabbed his own bag that was on his hip, standing up and walking closer.

He laid Suibian beside Bichen, the elegant white scabbard making Suibian look worse for wear. Still, it seemed fitting. Wei Wuxian pulled out his own clothes, all black or dark enough to seem that way. He grinned.

“Go try them on, see how they fit,” he said. Lan Zhan stared at him for a moment as if he didn’t understand. Which in itself was stupid because they were both well aware of the fact Lan Zhan was always three steps ahead of everyone else. “You need something darker and we don’t have time to go on a shopping spree. Go, I’ll start playing with the talisman.”

Reluctantly, Lan Zhan accepted them with an annoyingly formal bow that Wei Wuxian shoved him a little for. Lan Zhan tried to glare, but a smile was playing on his lips and Wei Wuxian was struck by how much he adored him. He had to wait until he’d disappeared behind the privacy screen to remember what he said he’d do.

Wei Wuxian knelt by the table and pulled out some paper, doodling a few different things that were either direct opposites to fire talismans or just them flipped or changed a little. He’d had about three different ideas written out by the time Lan Zhan knelt beside him.

He glanced up to ask him what he thought only for his words to die in his throat. There were very few things that could render Wei Wuxian speechless, but apparently his pristine and proper Lan Zhan in a black t-shirt and his sweatpants was enough to do it. It didn’t help that his nails were still painted and that his ribbon was still in place, nor did it distract him that his hair was already all pulled over one shoulder and leaving the side of his neck closest to Wei Wuxian completely exposed.

He took a shaky breath and tapped the table, trying to clear his mind of anything inappropriate. It was very inefficient to think of him like that instead of focusing on the hunt. Even more so to instead imagine him fighting while dressed in all black and being completely and utterly badass while wearing Wei Wuxian’s clothes like he was meant to. That was definitely not what he should be doing.

“Wow, okay,” Wei Ying breathed, swallowing hard as he blinked and shook his head. The more he tried to get rid of any impure thoughts, the more he was simply erasing the Hanguang-Jun and Young Master Wei Wuxian of it all and replacing it with Lan Zhan and Wei Ying. It was significantly worse. So he decided to just try and focus on the talismans. “Lan Zhan, start a fire for me real quick.”

Lan Zhan looked over at him, eyebrows tugged together in confusion and far more expressive than he’d been all day. It had Wei Wuxian giggling like an overwhelmed child. It seemed the more comfortable Lan Zhan got with him, the more Wei Wuxian had no idea how to deal with it. Was this how people felt around him?

“Just do it! So I can see if it works, I’m not going to burn the building down,” Wei Wuxian said. Lan Zhan tilted his head as if to ask if he was sure and Wei Wuxian found himself laughing to himself even harder, his heart clenching in his chest.

Lan Zhan’s expression softened into that soft little smile and he lit a fire talisman, laying the flame in the middle of the table. Wei Wuxian gathered his composure as quickly as he could and grabbed the first talisman, casting it forward. The flame ignited even bigger and they both lunged forward to path the flame until it was out. And then Lan Zhan was back to glaring and Wei Wuxian was back to laughing.

"My bad," he said, sliding his hand off the table, "Take two?"

And, because Lan Zhan was nothing but indulgent, he lit another one.

They tried the following two with much more success and the one that was simply the fire talisman flipped proved to be the most effective. They tried it a few more times to make sure and then settled on it, getting to work making a solid supply of them including some of Wei Wuxian’s more reusable ones. They created until their dinner for the night was brought to their door.

“Thank you,” Wei Wuxian said, flashing a smile to the girl who flushed a bright red in response. If he was Lan Xichen, he would’ve said it was unnecessary for her to bring it to them, that they could’ve gotten it themselves, and to thank her sincerely for her kindness.

But he wasn’t Lan Xichen.

So, instead, he kept his smile and his eyes on her as he bowed in thanks and she bowed her goodbye. He let his eyes follow her down the hall if only because he enjoyed the way her ears and neck turned bright red as she all but ran. Once he closed the door, he let himself laugh.

“Ah, Lan Zhan, she turned so red. Like you do, sometimes, when I’m lucky,” he teased, handing Lan Zhan his takeout container of fried rice, “Let’s eat.”

Wei Wuxian barely made it a step forward, however, before Lan Zhan put his free hand and pushed him back into the door. His eyebrows furrowed and he was about to ask why the hell he was pushing him, but his question was quickly answered when Lan Zhan came in with a biting kiss, somehow not disturbing the food they both held. Wei Wuxian made a noise of surprise, but he managed to keep a hold on his food as he reached up to put his free hand on his cheek. His thumb traced the shell of his ear and deliberately kept away from the forehead ribbon, wishing he didn’t have food in the way. And then Lan Zhan sent a rather overwhelming stream of spiritual energy into him, so clearly a possessive little claim and Wei Ying’s knees very nearly gave out on him.

Then Lan Zhan pulled away and walked to the table like nothing happened.

Wei Wuxian rested his head back against the door and caught his breath, his hand layering over where Lan Zhan’s had been on his chest. He could still feel his presence, his energy in his system, his body adjusting to the influx of it. He pushed himself off the door.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Lan Zhan.”

“Mn.”

Disbelieving laughter filled the air as Wei Wuxian knelt back at the table. Lan Zhan neatly put the talismans to the far end for safekeeping before they started eating. It was simple fried rice with vegetables and chicken‒which very easily became a problem because Lan Zhan didn’t eat meat and his wasn’t supposed to have any in it. Wei Wuxian reached over, using his chopsticks to pick out the biggest piece that sat on top.

“There. I know it still touched, but let’s pretend it didn’t,” he said, shoving the piece in his mouth and smiling around it. Somehow, for some reason, Lan Zhan just looked at him with those unrelentingly fond eyes. Wei Wuxian liked that too much.

They ate in silence and Wei Wuxian would lean over every once in a while to steal a piece of chicken, that fond look on Lan Zhan’s face never leaving. It was becoming overwhelming, honestly, and, not for the first time, he found himself getting distracted from the hunt he should’ve been overthinking. And, truly, he was‒Lan Zhan was just unbearably attractive and he couldn’t be blamed for it.

And, well, if he slipped and smeared a bit of soy sauce on his neck, he couldn’t be blamed for that either.

“Ah, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian scolded, the man already staring at him like he’d completely lost it and frozen despite the mess on his neck being such a thin layer that he could barely even see it, “You’re making a mess! You really have to be more careful. Here, I’ll clean it for you.”

Wei Wuxian’s smile was entirely conniving as he leaned over and licked him clean. He felt Lan Zhan swallow and heard his breathing change, all of which were very nice signs because he had self-control like no other. If he didn’t want to be affected, he wouldn’t be. But he was because he wanted to and that felt like a challenge.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said as the simple clean-up job turned into sloppy, neverending kisses. He couldn’t help himself. Not only was Lan Zhan attractive, but Wei Wuxian had seen something incredible today and tomorrow he was going to fight something incredible. He was pulsing with adrenaline the more he tried to sit still.

“Ah, that’s the only thing you’ve said all evening, do you know how nice it sounds?” Wei Wuxian asked softly against his neck, sliding closer and abandoning his food all together for something that tasted so much better. He reached his hand up to hold the other side of his neck, his thumb resting at the base of his throat. When he bit down, he could feel the soft hum it earned. “You’re so hot, what the fuck.”

That, of all things, was what got Lan Zhan's skin to grow warm. Wei Wuxian smiled easily and nudged his nose against his jaw.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said again and Wei Wuxian was obsessed.

He slid his hand down a bit to grab the collar of the shirt he was wearing and tugged on it. He really just wanted him closer than he was. Lan Zhan, however, never did things in halves and he had Wei Ying on his back in seconds with his hand behind his head to make sure he didn’t hit it against the floor. The action was such a tender one that when Lan Zhan kissed him in his typical rough fashion, Wei Ying started laughing.

Lan Zhan just moved away from his lips to let him, tucking his face in the crook of his neck to kiss and bite harder than Wei Wuxian had to him. He had no complaints, a moan breaking up his giddy laughter. He took the time to feel over his bare arms and pushed his hands up his shirt to feel his ridiculously strong back. It all convinced him to get Lan Zhan in t-shirts more often. There was infinitely more access than his fitted, tucked in button-ups.

“You’re so hot,” Wei Wuxian groaned, tracing over the muscles beneath his shoulders that were all flexed from holding himself up, “And strong. And smart. Ah, there’s more words, Lan Zhan, I promise! I have them.” Lan Zhan hummed against his neck, an amused smile so evident on his face that Wei Wuxian could feel it. That was new. “You’re so good, Lan Zhan, so, so good. Sometimes I’m sure I’m nothing but your plaything and I enjoy every second of it because you’re just so good.”

Lan Zhan pulled up a little bit, looking down at him. His expression was a bit of a complex one and it was one that Wei Wuxian’s brain was moving too fast to read properly. So, instead, he reached up to touch those lips that he was growing more and more fond of by the hour.

“You are utterly perfect,” Wei Wuxian said, his eyes following his finger as he traced over his face and his neck and his arms to avoid his intense eyes, “Ah, Lan Zhan, excessive praise is breaking the rules, isn’t it? Will you be mad if I give it to you anyway? Eh, well, I like when you get mad, so I feel inclined to do it anyway. Because you are honestly the best person in the world, did you know that? You’re all fair and such a talented cultivator in every sense of the world. I can’t even imagine having to learn to fight beside someone else‒I know you far too well for that and no one will ever compare. You are my match, Lan Zhan, my opposite and my equal‒as a cultivator, I mean, obviously. Because you’re selfless and‒”

“No,” Lan Zhan said suddenly. Wei Wuxian startled to a stop, his hand dropping and eyes finally settling on his.

“No?”

“Not selfless.”

Wei Wuxian laughed a bit, “Lan Zhan, you really are. I can look up the definition for you and we can read it together because‒”

“No,” he said, but he didn’t elaborate. He usually didn’t. It was simply left for Wei Wuxian to decide what about him could be deemed selfish. He came up empty handed.

“Well, you call me beautiful and perfect and I listen to you, so shut your pretty mouth and let me be nice for once,” he said, raising his hand to cover Lan Zhan’s mouth.

He didn’t feel like trying to dissect his thought process even further when he really didn’t have the brain power to do so. He was too excited and too pent up with energy of all sorts. He wanted to be kissed and he wanted to theorize and he wanted to go after the Vermilion Bird as soon as the sun rose. Lan Zhan smiled softly and tilted his head to kiss his fingers before moving down to kiss his lips.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, “Perfect.”

“You think you’re so clever,” Wei Wuxian teased, smiling again as Lan Zhan settled a little more weight on him. He was, though. He was clever. It was one of the reasons Wei Wuxian liked him so much.

They kissed for a while in silence, Lan Zhan keeping his mouth occupied. Wei Wuxian dealt with his restless energy by playing with his hair or stroking his back or pinching his hip or kicking any part of him his legs could reach. However, that only kept him content for so long before Wei Wuxian was beginning to bubble over with the need to do something other than just lay on the floor and be kissed. Kissing Lan Zhan was very nice, but kissing could sometimes get boring if his brain was too active. Not that he’d ever tell anyone that. That would be so very rude.

“Lan Zhan,” he said, “We should save our energy for tomorrow.”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan agreed, but he simply moved down to kiss his neck and his hand slid past the waistband of his pants to press his palm against his bare hip.

“That is not what I meant!” Wei Wuxian laughed, half-heartedly pushing him away so he’d stop feeding him spiritual energy. “I said save it, not waste it.”

“Mn.”

Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes, pinching his cheek lightly in adoration. He gave him one last peck beore he pushed him to sit up and Wei Wuxian instantly got to his feet. Lan Zhan’s eyes followed him, never rising from his kneeling position as Wei Wuxian started to wander around the room.

“What do you think it could be guarding?” he asked, tapping his fingers against the wall as he walked the longest length of it he could, “Obviously, if it’s something, it’s something ancient. Are there any ancient myths or anything? Well, there are, but are there any that could possibly apply? Something that would make sense.”

Lan Zhan didn’t answer him, but that was fine. He didn’t really expect an answer and it seemed Lan Zhan knew that. Wei Wuxian pressed his back against the wall and pursed his lips. He kept himself pressed against it in thought as he rolled onto his stomach and then onto his back again. When he got an idea, he shoved himself off it and looked at Lan Zhan who was already watching him with the same eyes he’d watched him when he shoved a whole piece of chicken in his mouth.

“The Yin Iron, could it be that? That would be powerful enough to require a giant flaming bird to protect it, wouldn’t it? A bird of myths and legends‒that could be a worthy guard.”

Lan Zhan tilted his head. “It was destroyed.”

“Yes, but all of it?” Wei Wuxian prodded, walking closer. He circled Lan Zhan, patting the top of his head as he ordered his thoughts. “There were four known pieces of the Yin Iron, that’s what the story was, and they were all destroyed when all the major Sects finally agreed on something for once. But they never tried to fit it together‒for good reason. Maybe there was a missing piece and they just couldn’t know. Or maybe they didn’t destroy it well enough and the Vermilion Bird is guarding the remnants?”

“It is possible,” Lan Zhan said slowly, eyes staying forward probably so he didn’t get dizzy as Wei Wuxian kept walking around him, “Unlikely.”

“What if it’s an egg? When I saw the nest, that was the first thing I thought. It could be a,” he paused, kneeling behind Lan Zhan and resting his chin on his shoulder, “A new era of beasts. Ah, if it is, can you imagine the Nie Sect?! Maybe that’s why Nie Mingjue is so involved. Maybe he’s not fucking your brother, maybe he just thinks a new beast is about to be born.”

Lan Zhan looked at him again in alarm and Wei Wuxian just laughed, leaning back and grabbing his hair. Lan Zhan hesitantly moved the ends of the ribbon over his shoulder so he wouldn’t disturb it and Wei Wuxian started running his fingers through the long, ridiculously healthy hair. It reached his hips.

"I'm kidding, you're so cute," he said, "Well, kidding about your brother. It is possibly a new beast. Which would be super cool, right? We could be there when it's born. Ah, Lan Zhan, can you imagine? We could rescue it and raise a giant fire monster together.”

“Mn.”

“Or what if it’s a new mythical object? We think it’s ancient because the bird is ancient, but the bird has just reemerged. It could be something new, something we have no knowledge on,” Wei Wuxian rambled, finding himself giddy at the idea. He would love to play with something so new that there was no text on it. He could write all of them. Then they would make sense instead of being written in an annoying pretentious way that made it hard to grasp on the first read. “I want that, Lan Zhan, I want to have something new that I can spend my life studying. I hope it’s new. Do you think your brother will mind if I take it if it is new? He likes me enough. I could agree to only study it in a secluded area so no one gets hurt. Ah, I hope it’s new.”

Lan Zhan didn’t say anything, staring forward. His shoulders were rigidly straight and his chin was held high. Wei Wuxian thought he was gorgeous. He hummed and separated his long hair into three strands, braiding it to the best of his ability.

“You could help me, of course. I think the best when I can bounce my ideas off your brain,” Wei Wuxian said, shrugging, “I think if it’s new, I could have a lot of fun with it. I want to live with no regrets and I want to be helpful. If I spend all my time making accessible notes‒ones that could go through you as a filter to make sure they’re making sense‒I would be so helpful. I think I could do that even if it isn’t new. Do you think your brother and Uncle would let me start officially detailing my ideas? I have notes all over, but I could have them done in a more official manner. He said he was interested, but does that mean he wants to put them into effect? I want that. It feels good to make something useful, Lan Zhan. It feels good to make something at all.”

Wei Wuxian was rambling, he knew it, but Lan Zhan didn’t interrupt or seem bothered. He was simply listening because that’s what he did. Wei Wuxian leaned forward to kiss the back of his neck before he rested his chin on his shoulder again.

“What do you think, Lan Zhan? Do you want to spend your life studying and creating with me?” he asked.

He could easily see a life inside the Cloud Recesses, teaching and reading and creating and being a cultivator like they were long before his time. He could have a garden and be productive with his hands as he thought through ideas. He could lead juniors on nighthunts and show them how to think for themselves instead of just abiding by the sect that they learned from. He could roam and he could cultivate and he could theorize and create. And he could be where he could see Lan Zhan in all his glory whenever he missed him most.

“I will study with Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said simply, his voice tight and rigid like he’d been overwhelmed by such a simple question. Wei Wuxian laughed.

“Ah, Lan Zhan, you sound so excited by that idea,” he teased, but he no longer wanted to talk about that far into the future. Clearly Lan Zhan wasn’t excited about the prospects of being stuck with him for that long. Which was fair enough.

Wei Wuxian tilted his head to the side and let his body weight and gravity work together and let him fall onto the floor beside Lan Zhan. He looked down at him with slightly concerned eyes, but Wei Wuxian just grinned and wiggled a bit to get comfortable as he pillowed his head on his arms.

“I spoke too much, my mouth is dry, I’m going to need a saliva donation before I die,” Wei Wuxian decided, opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue. Lan Zhan just stared down at him with a completely serious expression before Wei Wuxian laughed. “I’m kidding.”

Lan Zhan looked up for a moment and stared at the wall as if making a decision. And then he carefully untied his forehead ribbon and placed it on the table. Wei Wuxian watched with intrigued as he did it, not for the first time wishing he could see what he was thinking. Was he thinking about the Vermilion bird? About the fight tomorrow? About a life being stuck with Wei Wuxian? About how they should really go to sleep so they’d be well rested?

Except then Lan Zhan turned to him and put his hand on his chest, still kneeling beside him and looking completely and utterly regal. His hand slid up slowly and rendered Wei Wuxian speechless for once. His hand grazed over his neck and then his thumb pressed into his bottom lip, opening his mouth. Wei Wuxian's heart was thudding in his chest and his stomach twisted into knots while his pants became impossibly tight. His ears were ringing and he suddenly felt the need to give an expansive speech on how dual cultivation was very good for keeping two people in sync during battle–but Lan Zhan really didn't need convincing on that.

An involuntary shaky breath escaped from his lungs as Lan Zhan leaned over him, lips parting just enough to comply with Wei Wuxian’s silly little request.

He found himself again wondering how he always forgot who he was dealing with.

Wei Wuxian slept unnaturally sound that night.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said the next morning, voice stern as he summoned him back to the world of the living. Wei Wuxian groaned and tried to pull the pillow over his head. “The Vermilion Bird.”

The mention of their task for the day woke up Wei Wuxian quicker than anything else would’ve. He sat up and his head spun from the quick movement causing him to grip the edge of the bed. On top of that, his body seemed to buzz with a sea of different aches‒none of them bad enough to hinder his ability to fight or even last long enough for him to remember by the time they left the inn, but all there nonetheless.

“Fuck, you really did a number on me,” he laughed, voice rough from sleep. Lan Zhan’s brow creased with concern and he started to reach out, but Wei Wuxian caught his hand and pressed a kiss to his palm. “I’m teasing, I’m fine. Save your energy, you little nymphet.”

Lan Zhan’s concern easily bled into vague annoyance and Wei Wuxian laughed, pushing himself to his feet. He stretched up, up, up and let his arms fall onto Lan Zhan’s shoulders when he was done. He stole a kiss and then tilted his head back to take him in. He was already made up for the day, all of Wei Wuxian’s dark clothing to keep the bird from spotting him as easily and he looked good. He always looked good. Wei Wuxian wanted to see him look this good every morning. Could he get away with that?

But then he quickly remembered why they were up and a smile broke out onto his face, pulling away to pull his clothes on as fast as he could. He threw his hair up as securely as he could and shoved everything into his qiankun bag, quickly grabbing Suibian and looking to Lan Zhan.

“Are they up? Can we go?”

Lan Zhan had that look on his face that wasn’t too different from the distant look he’d had the first night Lan Xichen mentioned the whole hunt. Wei Ying wandered closer, tapping Suibian against his thigh to make him focus.

“What are you so worried about?” Wei Wuxian asked, “Very unlike you, Lan Zhan, I have to say.”

Lan Zhan stared blankly past him for a moment, ordering his thoughts and Wei Wuxian gave him all the time he needed despite feeling restless. Eventually, he made eye contact.

“Let me help you,” Lan Zhan said slowly, serious and stoic. Wei Wuxian stared at him for a moment, trying to piece together what exactly he meant. Eventually a smile slowly found his face.

“With what, the bird? Obviously I’m letting you help me,” he said. It didn’t stop Lan Zhan from staring at him. “Ah, you mean because I’m being the main distraction. I’ll be fine! I’m very good at getting attacked.”

“Wei Ying.”

“Ah, Lan Zhan, I’m not that irresponsible! I’m not going to die, do you know how embarrassing it would be to die in front of two Sect Leaders? Too embarrassing! I just won’t do it,” Wei Wuxian teased, taking a step closer and placing his hand on Lan Zhan’s cheek. He felt incredibly fond. Maybe he had no interest in dealing with Wei Wuxian every day for the rest of his life, but he at least cared enough to want him to live.

“Mn.”

“I’ll be careful,” Wei Wuxian promised, patting his cheek for emphasis even though they both knew he probably wouldn’t be as careful as Lan Zhan might like, “Ah, Lan Zhan, I can’t believe you’re worrying about me! I feel so special.”

Lan Zhan still just stared at him. It didn’t take a genius to know that Lan Zhan didn’t mind when he fought, probably enjoyed watching him do it because that’s how one felt towards the person that was their zhiji, but he didn’t like Wei Wuxian’s willingness to get hurt. They’d been on many nighthunts where he’d thrown Jiang Cheng out of the way and received a new scar or broke a rib or something akin to that. But it was the way he had to be growing up with Yu Ziyuan as an adoptive mother. He had no intention to stop now.

“Sweet, precious little Hanguang-Jun,” Wei Wuxian cooed, scrunching up his nose as he pinched Lan Zhan’s cheek. Lan Zhan’s eyes narrowed into a glare. “Relax.”

He didn’t have much more time to do any extra consoling because there was a soft knock at the door that could really only belong to Lan Xichen. Wei Wuxian slid his hand over his chest and went to the door, opening it up with an excited grin.

“I figured out a talisman that will work, I can show you on the way there, let’s go,” he said instantly. Lan Xichen smiled softly, wearing Nie Mingjue’s darker clothes instead of his pretty blue ones. They were a little bit big considering Nie Mingjue was debatably 90% muscle, but it was amusing nonetheless.

“Alright, I can’t wait to see. How did the two of you sleep?” he asked, taking a step back into smalltalk. It was one of the things that reminded Wei Wuxian why he was such a good sect leader. You had to be good at smalltalk. It was extremely boring.

“Fantastic, right, Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian, looking over his shoulder. Lan Zhan had gone back to his blank face‒which, in reality, wasn’t that much different from his annoyed or worried or excited face. Wei Wuxian had just gotten very good at noticing them and he was sure Lan Xichen was also talented at it.

“Mn.”

“Good, that’s good. Are we ready?”

“So ready, never been more ready in my life,” Wei Wuxian insisted. Lan Xichen breathed a laugh and nodded, moving to the side so they could get going.

Wei Wuxian unintentionally led the way, a skip in his step as he started to show his talismans and rambled about how he’d wait until everyone was in place and he would send the first one. He doled them out, giving himself the least because he could always make more. Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue tried one each to test them out so they’d be ready. It made him even more excited.

And it all led up to when they got to the clearing again.

Wei Wuxian was excited in a big way, but he managed to keep it contained. He wasn’t going to be reckless in a way that got anyone else hurt. Still, he watched the Vermilion Bird with complete and utter fascination. Its eyes were closed and its head was bowed, still in its nest. In all honesty, it looked beautiful. It was almost upsetting that they had to kill it before it did anymore damage.

“And we’re ready?” Lan Xichen clarified.

“If not now, then we never will be, so let’s stop waiting,” Wei Wuxian insisted. Lan Xichen put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a nod of good luck.

“I’m sure you won’t fuck this up,” Nie Mingjue said which, truly, was one of the more loving things he’d ever heard the man say.

Lan Zhan gave him one last look before leaving to go to the spot behind the bird they’d decided the day before while Lan Xichen headed to the right and Nie Mingjue went to the left. The fact that all three of them were trusting him to be at the forefront didn’t surpass Wei Wuxian. In fact, he was sure Lan Xichen had to talk Nie Mingjue into it. Otherwise, he wasn’t sure how he’d be okay with it. He decided not to think too hard about it.

Wei Wuxian stared at the bird as he waited. It was hard to stay still and his fingers tapped excitedly against Suibian. The last time he’d been so excited over a nighthunt was when he and Nie Huaisang had stumbled upon a handful of ghosts when they were only 15 which, at the time, had felt like such a major challenge. This, however, was a major challenge. So major that two of the most powerful cultivators alive, two men who had already stopped aging, asked for assistance.

And Wei Wuxian got to be a part of it.

He waited until he got the subtle confirmation from all three of them that they were in place. He took one last breath and allowed himself to appreciate the beauty of it one last time before readying his first talisman and sending it.

Directly after he sent his, the others sent theirs and they all hit the bird in rapid succession. It woke up immediately after the impact of the first one, an ear-piercing screech ripping through the air. The flames seemed to ignite even further in response, trying to overcompensate like the lack of flames was in itself burning. Wei Wuxian found himself even more in awe at the pure magnitude of it.

He sent one after the other, using his reusable ones to give the impact of multiple and keeping its focus on him as the others moved in. It only stayed down for so long before it tried to fly up, leaving its nest open. Lan Zhan, already on top of his game, managed to get a binding talisman around its leg and then another around it’s other leg. He kept himself on the ground so that it couldn’t get far. Wei Wuxian smiled and sent a few more fire extinguishing talismans.

He moved as much as he could so he wouldn’t exactly be an easy target if the bird did manage to get close, but that only helped so much as they irritated it more. Nie Mingjue sent Baxia flying and piercing the bird which caused it to violently jolt to the right, sending Lan Zhan to the ground as he focused on never letting go. That just wasn’t an option.

Wei Wuxian unsheathed Suibian and stepped on, raising himself to be on par with the bird. He sent a few more fire extinguishing talismans as well as a body-locking spell that only worked so well on a beast of that size.

Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue sent their swords at the perfect time, both piercing the bird in the neck from opposite sides. For any other beast, that would be it. For this one, it seemed to only irritate it more.

It screeched and shook itself, flames bursting from it as it threw Lan Xichen’s sword out of its body. Wei Wuxian, for the first time, felt a little out of his depth. However, he wasn’t going to let that stop him. He cast another body-locking spell and it seemed to work for a moment, the bird dipping in the air so it wasn’t flying as high. But then, the moment it wore off, it seemed to send Nie Mingjue’s saber flying straight towards him. Wei Wuxian didn’t have enough time to react as it sent him flying off of Suibian and threw him halfway across the field.

He landed with a thud and his body rolled, aching and bleeding a few different places. But Wei Wuxian didn’t stay down for long, instead pushing himself up as he caught his breath. He looked up at the bird and to the others and then to the nest. He needed to figure something out.

So, he started running.

“Wei Ying!” Lan Zhan yelled once he realized what he was doing, but he never let go of his grip on the bird. Wei Wuxian chose to ignore him, chose to accept scolding for his recklessness later.

He reached the nest with far too much ease, the bird above him focusing on trying to get away from the other three. Lan Xichen spared him a few concerned looks, but he and Nie Mingjue focused on continuously impaling it. Wei Wuxian looked up and found that the underside of the bird wasn’t on fire. Meaning it was much more vulnerable.

With a heavy breath, he launched Suibian towards it and wished he’d thought about bringing his bow and arrows. The bird screeched again at the feeling and Wei Wuxian summoned Subian back to his hand just as the bird came careening down. He braced for impact, waited for the bird to land on him.

It didn’t crush him though, instead landing a few steps away and bleeding. It’s beak came for Wei Wuxian and he did the only thing he knew how, drawing Suibian and acting like this was a normal way to spar. It screeched at him and threw him and treated him like a ragdoll, but Wei Wuxian was right‒he was a very effective distraction.

On the side of him, as he kept the bird distracted and Lan Zhan kept the bird in place despite himself, Lan Xichen pulled out his guqin. Music poured out of it, attacking the beast and successfully subduing it as Wei Wuxian started sending fire extinguishing talismans again and Nie Mingjue attacked it. Once it was weak enough, Lan Zhan pulled out his own guqin and the brothers effectively waited until Nie Mingjue and Wei Wuxian both hit the ground before executing the chord assissnation technique.

The energy that it sent slammed together against the bird between the brothers, effectively destroying the bird in one fell swoop.

They all laid in waiting for a moment, waiting for it to come back. It was only then that Wei Wuxian fully allowed himself to realize that he was in the nest and bleeding, something he really, really wasn’t supposed to do. Not when they didn’t know what it was guarding or where it was.

He slowly pushed himself up onto all fours and looked around, seeing if anything stood out. It was all a bunch of pebbles and stones and ash, all grey and black and stained red. He moved to where he was sitting, taking a few deep breaths as he looked around.

Wei Wuxian had read quite a lot about the Yin Iron. It’d been destroyed by the Sects long before he was around and any rumors about it still being around had died over a century ago. Because of that, there was no one really alive that had felt the power of being in the same room as it.

Still, as his eyes fell on one particular little stone, one that was covered in his blood and one that seemed to be calling to him, he could only imagine it felt something like that. But he didn’t know. He did know that if he said he thought he found something like the Yin Iron, it would be taken away from him and he’d never get to do any experimenting. So he grabbed it, shoving it in his pocket with the same motion that he used to sheath his sword and shakily brought himself to his feet.

When he turned to the others, they were all already staring at him with varying degrees of worry.

“Wei Wuxian,” Nie Mingjue said first, his voice commanding as ever. Wei Wuxian looked to him with furrowed eyebrows. “What did you find?”

“I didn’t find anything,” he lied, looking around the nest again even though it made him so dizzy he had to steady himself by using Suibian, “Guess it’s a good thing too, I got blood everywhere.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said, taking a step forward. He looked somehow unscathed and Wei Wuxian managed a smile, though he felt a little lightheaded.

“Ah, Lan Zhan! It’s so good you wore my clothes, you would’ve gotten yours dirty,” he said, laughing a little despite needing to take a deep breath. He blinked a few times and looked down at himself. Dark smoke seemed to hover around his feet, probably due to the bird. Or maybe he was just that lightheaded. How much blood had he lost?

“Young Master Wei,” Lan Xichen’s soft voice said next, “You’ve found something.”

“I can look through the rocks, but it’s all just rocks,” he said, keeping his voice tame and not at all defensive. His voice must’ve given something away, however, because Lan Zhan was at his side just in time to catch him when his legs gave out. “I’ll look, I promise, just-just give me a second.”

“Brother,” Lan Zhan said sternly. Wei Wuxian tried to look up at his face to read it so he could understand what he didn’t say, but it was too hazy and his eyes were falling.

Even as he tried to stay awake, the fatigue and the blood loss won over and he managed to rest his head on Lan Zhan’s shoulder right before everything went black.

When Wei Wuxian opened his eyes, he found himself, of all places, inside the Jingshi.

It took him a few seconds to really gather his surroundings, but, once he did, he was just fucking confused. He tried to recount the last things he remembered and none of them made sense to how he ended up back in the Cloud Recesses or in Lan Zhan’s bed. Had he dreamt the whole thing?

But, no. He was far too sore to have dreamt that.

“Drink.”

His eyes then moved to see that Lan Zhan was standing over him with a glass of water. He managed a tired smile and slowly pushed himself to sit despite the fact his body ached and he was still tired.

“You’re too good,” Wei Wuxian said, accepting the glass and drinking it slowly. He finished it even though it made him feel a little sick, but he had no intention to stress him out even more. “So, did you bring me here to have your wicked way with me?”

“Brother searched the nest and saw nothing that seemed to have any negative energy. Your spiritual energy was depleted, you were bleeding, and you broke two ribs,” Lan Zhan answered in an awful clinical way. Wei Wuxian smiled up at him despite the guilt that filled his system. Lan Zhan didn’t typically stay clinical when they were alone, not anymore. He was mad and not in a fun way.

“Good thing there was nothing in the nest then.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said. Wei Wuxian shook his head and opened his mouth to tell him it wasn’t that big of a deal. People got hurt all the time and most didn’t have the healing capabilities that he did with his golden core, he would be fine. However, Lan Zhan wasn’t done talking. “You came into contact with something negative. You had resentful energy around you.”

“Yeah because of the fucking bird,” he sighed, lowering himself down again, “You both exploded it and I was in it’s nest, whatever was left of it probably just came near before it was gone entirely. I didn’t find anything.”

Lan Zhan stared at him like he didn’t quite believe him, but he also seemed like he wasn’t going to argue either. Instead, he reached out and let his fingers hover over his forehead, sending a steady stream of spiritual energy into his system to heal him a little faster. Wei Wuxian offered him a thankful smile.

After a few minutes of that, however, he had enough energy to get up and walk himself to the bathroom. When he was finally alone, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the rock that had thankfully stayed there. It was small, hardly the size of the nail on his thumb, but it was powerful. It was probably what they were feeling. He wondered if Lan Zhan could feel it now.

He shoved it back into his pocket, deciding that it was none of their business. If they couldn’t tell where it was coming from then that meant it wasn’t for them. Wei Wuxian finally had something that he could study. He was fine.

He splashed a bit of water on his face and took his hair down, instantly feeling a little bit better. He needed a shower more than anything, but that could be done after he got rid of all of Lan Zhan’s worrying.

Wei Wuxian went back into the room and saw Lan Zhan sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor with his blank face. Wei Wuxian took the opportunity to reach out and touch his chin. He looked up at him, making eye contact instantly and Wei Wuxian had to smile.

“You’re very cute when you worry, but there’s no need for it. I’m fine, thanks to your powerful spiritual energy,” he said, grinning as he sat on the bed beside him. Lan Zhan never broke eye contact. “Ah, why are you looking at me like that? Do you have something in mind?”

“Wei Ying.”

“I’m teasing,” Wei Wuxian said softly, leaning forward to rub his nose against his cheek.

“You said you would let me help you,” Lan Zhan said, voice quiet and significantly less controlled. Wei Wuxian froze for a second, letting himself look confused as he leaned back.

“I did. You used the chord assassination technique,” Wei Wuxian pointed out, but Lan Zhan’s expression became a little more open, a little more desperate for him to understand what he was actualy saying. Wei Wuxian swallowed hard. “Can’t get anything past you, can I?”

“Please,” Lan Zhan added. It was impossible to lie to and impossible to even put off. Wei Wuxian sighed and closed his eyes, shaking his head.

“Ah, Lan Zhan, don’t make things difficult, alright? Lying is against the rules, but if I say nothing, you never have to lie,” he tried. Lan Zhan didn’t back down. “It’s not that serious. I’m simply going to study it, just like I said, remember? I’ll do it outside of the Cloud Recesses and no one will be hurt.”

“Let me help.”

“Okay,” Wei Wuxian conceded. Lan Zhan nodded, but it was all still so tense. Wei Wuxian wasn’t having any of it, so he leaned in again. “We won’t need to court properly if I whisk you away, will we?”

Lan Zhan let out a breath at that and, in seconds, he closed the space between them. Wei Wuxian welcomed him and put his hand on his cheek, kissing him slowly and trying to ignore all the aches that seemed to stem all to his ribs. He pulled away once he couldn’t anymore, taking a breath and laying himself down. Lan Zhan followed, his hand sliding beneath his shirt and hovering over his ribcage as if just knowing what was happening without needing to be told.

“You’re too good, Lan Zhan, far too good,” Wei Wuxian praised him, looking at him. His eyes drifted to the hand that was pressed against the bed as to hold him up just a little while he helped heal him and saw that his nails were still very nicely done despite the fight. “Ah, see, I told you, very good for your fingers.”

“Mn.”

He still kept his face stoic. Wei Wuxian waited for a solid ten minutes, thinking and debating and folding over things in his mind. And Lan Zhan still looked uncomfortable. Because, no matter what Wei Wuxian said or did, he always would be if he kept this between them. Wei Wuxian didn’t want that. He could handle a lot of things, but not that.

“I’ll tell your brother,” Wei Wuxian said softly, “I’ll show it to him, but you have to promise me you’ll help me convince him to let me study it. It’s all I want. Please.”

Lan Zhan relaxed a bit and looked at him again, nodding once. He probably wouldn’t fully relax until they actually told him, but it was a step. Besides, Wei Wuxian was charming and Lan Xichen was overly lenient‒he would get to study it. Hopefully.

But, for now, he needed not to think.

“Okay, okay, come here,” Wei Wuxian said, reaching up to grab the back of his neck and pull him down. He kissed him desperately and this time was able to effectively ignore his ribs, even when Lan Zhan eventually stopped giving him spiritual energy and simply touched him.

And it was all fine until Wei Wuxian tried to pass him spiritual energy back like they always did.

Lan Zhan gasped, audibly, and pushed his hand away faster than he’d really reacted around Wei Wuxian. He was looking at him with wide eyes that Wei Wuxian was probably mirroring due to the shock that Lan Zhan had pushed him away.

“What?” Wei Wuxian asked. Lan Zhan swallowed and looked over him, his hand hesitantly reaching to touch the spot Wei Wuxian had tried to pass him energy at. “What’s wrong? What just happened?”

Lan Zhan’s eyes lingered at Wei Wuxian’s chest for a moment‒or, more specifically, where his golden core was. All that did was confuse him more.

“Lan Zhan,” he said seriously, “Did that hurt?”

Lan Zhan’s eyes traveled back to meet his with an uncharacteristic wariness to them. Wei Wuxian stared at him for a long moment, trying to read his mind because he clearly wasn’t going to vocalize it. Eventually, Wei Wuxian reached into his pocket and pulled out the rock. Earlier, in the bathroom, it’d been fine. Now, however, it had a dark smoke hovering around it. Wei Wuxian blinked twice before looking to Lan Zhan.

He was about to apologize, about to say he didn’t really understand what just happened, about to ramble until he couldn’t ramble anymore because he didn’t know what else to do. Studying was one thing. Using it was another. Accidentally putting it into Lan Zhan’s body was something else entirely.

But, before he could, Lan Zhan reached out and took it from his hands. Part of Wei Wuxian expected him to march it over to Lan Xichen right then and there. Instead, he sat up and placed it on the little side table. Then he laid back beside Wei Wuxian.

“I might still draw on it even if it’s not on me, I don’t know how it works,” Wei Wuxian admitted. Lan Zhan took a deep breath and reached up to his forehead ribbon.

He said nothing with his words, but his actions said everything as he took it off of his head and proceeded to wrap it around one of Wei Wuxian’s wrists. He watched Lan Zhan intently in awe and, when he came back down to kiss him and made sure to be cautious of his ribs, he had no intention to ever let him go.

They were in this together, good or bad, and Wei Wuxian just had to hope this wasn’t the start of something bad.

#the untamed #the untamed fic #wangxian #wei wuxian #lan wangji #lan xichen #mdzs #mdsz fic #my fic

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nakey-cats-take-bathsss · 4 years

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GRIFFIN GIRLS (a moment in the life): 2020

A short companion Drabble to Griffin Girls

2020 has brought a lot of weird changes to the little town of Polis. But while the world around them seems to be constantly moving, their little corner of the world will always feel like home.

“I’m so glad I came home for this,” Madi whispered, taking a red vine from the bag in Clarke’s purse.

“You say that as if you haven’t been home for the last six months,” Clarke teased, nudging her daughter’s side.

Madi rolled her eyes, pulling her mask just enough that she could slide the candy underneath.

“This is a spectacle,” Bellamy muttered, pulling Clarke into his side as he eyed the crowd wearily. Thelonius had a small group of people tucked behind a curtain, preparing for his first town meeting in six months.

They were spread out in the town square, the town hall too cramped to meet social distancing guidelines.

For the most part, everyone was adhering to the rules. Except for the town troubadour, who was staging a one man protest where he’d trapped himself inside a plastic bubble.

“As you know, we are in the middle of a pandemic!” Thelonius announced, emerging from behind the curtain to stand on top of an old milk crate. “I would just like to make a few reminders!”

“Wash your freaking hands and wear a mask!” Octavia yelled from the crowd, chucking a mini bottle of hand sanitizer at the troubadour’s bubble.

“Thank you Ms. Blake...now as I was saying. These are unprecedented times and I know that these rules can be a little difficult for you all to understand. Sooo I’ve commissioned the Polis High School drama club to provide us with a little demonstration,” Thelonius said, drawing back the curtain to reveal a group of teenagers all clad in costume.

“Oh my God,” Bellamy said and Octavia said in unison, both momentarily forgetting to keep his voice to a whisper.

“Shhh...this is the most exciting thing that’s happened in months,” Clarke scolded, swatting him with a red vine.

The demonstration as it turned out, involved a high school boy dressed as a germ and a giant roll of toilet paper.

“This is Oscar worthy…” Madi choked out, covering her laugh with the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

“We’re moving…” Bellamy sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s been great but I think it’s time to throw the entire town away.”

“You say that every time that Thelonius does something stupid. I should make one of those signs, ‘it’s been 0 days since Bellamy tried to leave this town’ and mark it with a little piece of chalk.”

Bellamy gave Clarke his best exasperated stare, hindered by the cover of his mask.

“Hey Blake, is the outdoor patio going to be open after this?” Jasper asked, leaning across the massive aisle.

“It isn’t a patio it’s literally a bunch of folding tables in the street.”

Jasper stared at him expectantly, waiting until Bellamy finally nodded yes before he pulled back to relay the news to Maya.

“You love it here,” Clarke said fondly, moving in for a kiss before she remembered her mask was in the way.

The teenagers wrapped up their play with a final musical number, throwing the crowd into enough chaos that Thelonius adjourned the meeting early.

“I’ll see you guys at home, I’d really rather not run into Jordan,” Madi whispered, squeezing her parents’ hands before she slipped into the crowd.

Clarke watched her go, a mess of dark hair sticking out even between a hundred people. Somehow, she blinked and her daughter was 20 years old. This was the longest she’d been home since high school—and global pandemic aside, the town felt a little more whole with her in it again.

Eventually, everyone went in their separate directions, leaving Bellamy and Clarke standing alone in the square.

“It’s nice to have her back isn't it?” Bellamy murmured, hugging her tightly.

“Makes me realize how big that old house is when it’s just the two of us,” Clarke agreed, leaning back into his chest.

They stood in silence for a while, staring out at the gazebo where they got married, the tree where they had their first kiss, the town that brought them together.

“I could never actually leave this place,” he admitted, unhooking his mask so he could kiss the top of her head.

“There is something missing though, isn’t there?” Clarke sighed, sinking into the embrace. It’d been on her mind for a while now, the idea of having more kids.

Sure, Madi was in college but Clarke was only 36–there was still time. Or they could even adopt. She wanted to have that with Bellamy, to be able to grow their family together.

He didn’t respond, just tilted her chin up kissing her soundly, in the same spot where they got married two years ago and where they’d fallen in love at the Christmas carnival almost a decade before that.

It was all the confirmation she needed.

“We should get to the diner…or should I say, the outdoor patio,” he said, pressing one last kiss to the tip of Clarke’s nose. “The sooner I get Jasper a piece of pie the sooner we can go home.”

“Hello, your wife would like a piece of pie too…” Clarke teased, kissing his nose before pulling his mask back up

They walked arm in arm back toward the diner, a cluster of customers already settled at the widely spaced tables. Thelonius had invested in rolling plexiglass dividers a few weeks ago and it was a great excuse for Bellamy to ignore people who were trying to get his attention to order coffee.

“You serve coffee, I’ll serve pie. Meet back here in fifteen minutes to make out in the store room,” Clarke said with a wink, tapping him gently on the butt as she picked up a tray of apple pie.

Bellamy watched her dip back out the door, unable to wipe the grin off his face. He loved her and by the grace of God, she loved him back.

Taking extra care to not touch the lip of the mugs, he followed her out. The crowd had only grown, backlit by the town’s string lights with the muffled crooning of the bubble clad troubadour filling the air.

Things may look different, and they may be a little scarier than he would’ve liked. But Clarke was right, he did love this town. And it was times like this that really made him understand how fortunate he was.

#bellarke #the 100 #bellamy x clarke #bellarke fic #bellarke fanfiction #romantic comedy fanfiction #au #blarke #griffin girls

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silenceofthecookies · 3 years

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BNHA OC Lavender - the accident

This takes place when Lavender was 6 years old, way before she became a villain. This chapter is pretty heavy, so please read the warnings before proceeding. Warnings: Character death, car accidents, trapped in fire.

Art made by @lickmydevilfruits

Shiori sat in the backseat of the car, staring out the window. She had a few toys on the backseat with her like her teddy bear, a book and a pocket boardgame with magnetic pawns, but none of them interested her right now. The little girl stared out of the window, looked at the headlights of cars passing by and excitedly discussed with her parents what kind of faces the cars were making. Her mother laughed at her imagination and her father gladly joined in on the fun.

The three of them had gone to a restaurant together to go eat out. It had been a lovely evening and all three of them had full bellies and were in high spirits. The sun had already set while they were in the restaurant, as it does in the cold winter months, but the roads home were familiar and well-lit. Snow was falling outside, creating a winter wonderland that Shiori couldn't wait to go play in the next day.

“Honey, watch out!” Reiko suddenly yelled out as she grabbed her husband's leg to get his attention. The warning was in vain though.

On the other side of the road, a car was speeding and swaying. Before Yoshimitsu could steer out of the way, the other car headed straight for them and crashed into their car. There was a loud crash as the passengers in both cars swerved out of control. Both cars ended up swerving off the road. The other car crashed against a streetlight. The car with the Yanagimoto family in it continued going a little while longer, before crashing into a tree. Shiori's head crashed against the window she had been looking out of, and she lost consciousness.

Shiori was sitting at home with her parents, playing doctor, examining her mother's imaginary cough by listening to her lungs with the stethoscope and looking in her throat. The fireplace crackled on the background, giving off a comforting warmth, contrasting greatly with the cold of the winter weather outside. Shiori's father sat in his chair, watching Shiori and her mother play with a content smile on his face.

Once she had cured her mother’s imaginary disease, Shiori eagerly climbed on her father’s lap and asked him if he was feeling ok. He answered that he was feeling a bit cold, and asked Shiori to put another log on the fire. Shiori's eyes sparkled at the question as she happily walked over to the fireplace, waiting for her mother to join her. Fire had always fascinated her, though she knew it was dangerous and that she should never play with it. However, she was allowed to help her parents add new logs to the fire if she promised to be calm and listen well. Together with her mother, she grabbed a log and carefully placed it on the fire. She stepped back and looked at her father proudly as he thanked her, saying he felt much warmer already. To her surprise, Shiori did feel warmer too. Much warmer.

When she turned back to the fire, it has grown. It had escaped from the hearth and it was spreading around the house rapidly, surrounding the little girl and her parents.

“Mommy?! Daddy?!” Shiori cried out in panic, but her cries remained unanswered as her parents disappeared behind the flames which were slowly creeping closer to her.

Shiori opened her eyes. She wasn't at home, she was still in the car. The fire from her dream was very real though, as the car itself had caught fire. She called out to her parents once more, who she could see sitting in the seats in front of her, but neither of them responded to her. They didn’t even move. Shiori desperately tried to unlock her seatbelt but she couldn't. She had always struggled with unlocking it, and her panic wasn't helping her. In an attempt to at least keep the fire away from her, she tried to create a barrier around herself. Because of her inexperience and her panic, she only managed to shield her face and chest area, and even there she saw her own barrier flickering in and out of existence. She screamed for help, as she tried to wriggle her way out of her seatbelt. The heat was getting closer and closer to her, and the fumes of the fire had found a way through her imperfect barrier. It was getting harder and harder to breathe and Shiori slowly found her sight fading to black as she heard a voice from outside of the car.

When Shiori opened her eyes again, she was in a bright, white room. A hospital room, she recognized. She looked around and noticed a nurse who just entered the room. The nurse excitedly greeted her and tried to get her to answer a few questions. Shiori tried to answer, but the pain in her throat nearly made it impossible. The nurse nodded in understanding and got a chart with smileys Shiori could point at to indicate her answers.

The accident had been bad. Shiori's face, torso and arms had some burns, but nothing that wouldn't heal, the nurse said. The pain in her throat would fade as well, she had inhaled a lot of smoke, but she would be fine. The problem were her legs. Because she had not been able to shield them even a little, the fire had reached them and burned them badly. She would probably not lose her ability to walk, but she wasn't allowed to walk until they were healed. Her muscles would be fine after some rehab, but her legs would likely forever be scarred.

Shiori had gotten out of the accident the best out of everyone involved. Reiko, Shiori's mother, had died upon impact. Yoshimitsu, Shiori's father, had broken both of his arms, leaving him unable to get out of his seatbelt. He had passed from inhaling the toxic fumes. The driver of the other car was alive when they got him out of the wreck, but he died on the way to the hospital due to internal bleeding in his head. He had been drunk and lost control of the wheel, which caused the accident to happen. The nurse hadn't given Shiori any details of course, but she had told Shiori both her parents had died.

For the weeks to come, Shiori followed the instructions of the doctors and nurses mindlessly. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to do now. What was a little girl supposed to do when her parents died before she could take care of herself? Who was going to take care of her then?

The solution was simple: her aunt and uncle would be taking care of her. Her uncle was the brother of her father. Shiori overheard him talking to the doctors once, saying that as heir to the Yanagimoto company he had a lot of work, but that he would endeavor towards giving Shiori the best possible home.

Shiori had not seen her aunt and uncle much before the accident. She always greeted them at family parties, or at parties from her father's work, but they were always talking grown-up talk, as most adults did at those parties. She usually just played with the other kids, and because of that it felt like she was sent to live with strangers. The nurse told her it was great that her aunt and uncle were so willing to take her in and that they loved her a lot, but Shiori wasn't too sure. If they loved her so much, then why didn't she know them better? Why didn’t they ever visit to come play with her?

It took a long time, Shiori had no idea how long it actually was but Christmas had passed and the snow had melted so it felt like an eternity, before Shiori was allowed to leave the hospital and go home with her aunt and uncle. They smiled as they came to pick her up, and they drove Shiori to her new home. It was a big mansion on a piece of land just outside the city. Shiori briefly wondered if she'd be allowed to play in the garden, it looked very neat and well-kept.

As she got out, someone she had never met before took her bag out of the car and brought it inside.

“Welcome to your new home, Shiori.” her uncle said with a smile, “I'm sure you'll feel at home soon enough here.”

Shiori forced a small smile and nodded as well, though she wasn’t too sure. Even though she was only 6, she felt like something was off, something she couldn’t quite place. She wrote it off as her imagination and took her uncle’s hand as he guide her into the house.

#bnha oc lavender #lavender #bnha oc #bnha #mha #cookie writes #oc content #tw: fire #tw: character death #tw: car accident #scheduled post

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imagine-darksiders · 4 years

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Fluff thingy: kid from Haven gifts Strife a "lucky bracelet", a simple rainbow-colored string, which he /must/ put on or the baby won't let him go.

I love it!!!

---

“Mister Jones! Wait!”

The pitter-patter of tiny, bare feet fills the maker tree and draws the attention of several humans, each looking up from their respective tasks to watch in bemusement as their youngest member - a girl barely three weeks shy of her fifth birthday - rushes clumsily towards the tree’s main entrance, her too-big glasses threatening to fall off her face with each, hurried step.

Jones - perhaps Haven’s most enigmatic resident - freezes with one foot on the step that leads down onto the exterior plateau and swivels his head over a shoulder, his dark eyes zeroing in on the approaching child who’d called his name. Quirking a brow, he notes that she’s tottering towards him with her arms stretched out in front and her hands clasped together as though she has something trapped inside.

Wary that she’ll fall flat on her face with every step, Jones turns and in one, long stride, closes the distance between them. He flashes her a playful grin as he lowers himself onto a knee and pushes his hood back, the wiry curl of his hair springing free of its confines. “Something you need, little lady?”

The girl very closely avoids colliding with his bent knee when she skids to a halt before him and instantly unclasps her hands to push the glasses back into their rightful spot on her nose. Patiently, Jones waits until she tips her head back to peer up at him, blinking several times to adjust her vision. Then, once she takes in his familiar face and slow, easy smirk, she returns it, albeit crookedly with a few less teeth in her jaw. “You can’t go yet!” she exclaims, thrusting a fist up at his face and unfurling it to reveal a colourful string of beads nestled in her palm.

To tell the truth, Jones is taken aback.

He’d assumed - as she has every other time he tries to leave Haven - that she simply wanted to wish him good luck, perhaps ask him to tell her parents where she is, a request that always garners several, damp cheeks from any humans who happen to be within earshot. He has never before, so far as memory serves, been presented with something as garish and bright as whatever it is that lies in her palm. So, naturally, he feels compelled to hold out a hand and ask, “What’ve you got there, kiddo?”

The girl wastes no time in depositing her strange object into his waiting grip and then stepping back, her tiny chest still rising and falling from having dashed so suddenly from one end of the tree to the other. “S’a lucky bracelet!” she explains, pointing a chubby finger at it, “It keeps you safe outside!” The conviction in her tone leaves Jones with no room to doubt the validity of her claim.

“A lucky bracelet, huh?” he chuckles, lifting it up to the light and twisting it about, grimacing at the myriad of gaudy bead all stuffed together in a nauseating heap of colour. “And, uh, where’d you get it?”

Shyly, the human youngling rocks on her heels, muttering out, “Made it. Elanya showed me how.”

“Did she now....” Jones raises his eyes to the maker at the far end of the tree, finding her gaze trained on him. Even from over here, he can clearly make out the smug grin that lifts her cheeks as she twirls a blonde plait around her finger, unashamedly watching to see what he’ll do with the girl’s little gift.

“And....how come you’re giving it to me?” he asks, dragging his attention back to the tiny mortal just in time to watch her fingers fasten themselves into the fabric of his trousers.

Her big, brown eyes seem to grow ever larger as she replies, stumbling over her own explanation, “Cos, um. It’s lucky! And you - you go outside lots, so... It keeps you safe.”

Jones blinks, his easy smile receding. Of all the humans in Haven she’d want to keep safe, it’s the one who isn’t a human at all...

Shaking his head, he tries to hand it back to her, saying, “Maybe you should give it to one of the others. They might need it more than I do.” As he extends his hand however, the girl almost trips over her own feet in her haste to back-peddle away from it, shouting a firm, “NO!” that takes him by surprise.

“You have to take it!” she continues to cry out, “It’s lucky!”

And finally, Jones understands.

The horror that filled her at the prospect of him leaving the tree without the bracelet doesn’t stem from her desire to see him wear something of her own creation. She’s horrified that he might leave without it because to her juvenile mind, the bracelet really is lucky. She really, truly believes that a few colourful beads on a string will protect him from the dangers outside.

Every day, he learns more and more about human nature. He’d always known the adults are protective of the young, he’s seen that instinct rear its head time and again, ever since humanity first crawled out of their caves and discovered fire. What he hadn’t realised - hadn’t even entertained the prospect of until now - is that the young might be just as protective of their elders.

“Huh.” Jones huffs out a soft laugh, earning himself the girl’s ire as she scowls at him, her tiny lips pressing together into a pout. “Sorry, kid,” he chuckles and reaches out to ruffle a few more knots into her tawny hair, “M’not laughing at you. I, uh...I just don’t know what to say.”

Truly.

To the youngster’s delight, he rolls up one of his coat’s sleeve and drapes the length of bracelet over his wrist, offering it out to her. “You know how to tie a knot?” he asks, watching her face light up as she nods enthusiastically, almost toppling over in her excitement to spring forwards and grab both ends of the string.

“Make sure it’s nice and tight!” Elanya calls from across the tree, “So’s it doesn’t fall off by mistake!”

“Kay!” At the impromptu advice, the girl redoubles her effort in cutting off the blood supply to his hand whilst Jones tosses the maker a filthy look. Not that he’d actually ditch the bracelet, but she doesn’t need to know that. He may be a ruthless and baleful Horseman, but the thought of returning to the tree sans one, hand-crafted bracelet and watching that girl’s face fall, sits in his gut like a hot coal, much as he likes to pretend with all he’s worth that it doesn’t.

At last, the kid steps back, throwing her hands up and proudly exclaiming, “Done!”

And indeed, Jones supposes, she is done. For the bracelet is successfully tied around his wrist with no less than four knots keeping all of the precious, colourful beads in their place. The Horseman, although slightly mortified that the new accessory might take away from his fearsome image, is too soft where children are concerned to be anything other than delighted.

Sucking down his pride, he beams down at her. “Hey, thanks, kiddo.”

After getting a shy smile in return, he tries to stand, but as soon as he does, she suddenly shoots forwards and collides with his legs, her head barely coming up to the top of his knee.

“Woah, easy there!” he warns, stumbling a little when her small fingers clutch at the back of his trousers and she buries her face in the fabric, knocking her glasses askew in the process.

Affection, when given, is to a Horseman more unusual than a fish is to a desert. Affection given to a Horseman in disguise however, seems to have become something of a trend recently. He’s lost count of the times his shoulder has received a pat, or his hand has been grabbed by a human for nothing more than the inane purpose of shaking it up and down. And of course, there’s this expression of fondness - the hold in which he finds himself now. Humans refer to it as a hug, and he was forced to pretend he knew what was happening when he first received one from a woman whose life he saved. In the time since, he’s grown a bit more accustomed to being squeezed at random by the others, though that doesn’t mean he isn’t startled whenever it happens.

This time is no exception.

He stands where he is for several seconds, helpless in spite of his enormous, hidden strength and hardly daring to breathe until finally, the girl releases him and steps back to show off her toothy smile - well, a little less toothy after she lost one yesterday, an event that sent both the makers and himself into a near frenzy which subsequently had the older humans rolling about with laughter.

Worried she might tackle him again, Jones eyes her warily and asks, “What was that for?”

“A good luck hug! Just in case” she chirps as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. And with that said, she turns on her heel and scampers back over to Yarin, the gruff maker having found himself the youngling’s unwitting favourite, through no fault of his own. Apparently, human children are just ��like that.’

With the beginnings of a gentle smile haunting his lips, Jones regards the girl for a while longer, absently thumbing one of the pink beads now dangling from his wrist. But all too soon, the world catches back up to him and he blinks, shaking himself from his thoughts.

Pulling his hood up again, he hoists his scavenging bag up his shoulder and turns, striding purposefully for the entrance.

“Hold up a moment, lad!”

And just like that, his step falters. Jones closes his eyes and holds back a groan as Ulthane’s voice booms out across the tree and the Horseman has to school his features away from a frown before spinning about, finding the old maker still hammering away at the centre stone. “Aren’t you forgetting somethin’?” he grunts, sweat glistening on his brow.

“Come on, Ulthane,” the human in disguise complains, “I don’t need an escort every time I leave the tree. Besides, I’ve got this now.” He holds up his arm, showing off his latest accessory. But the surly maker doesn’t budge, doesn’t even turn to look. Instead, he calls Elanya’s name and jerks his head over to the man trying to make a getaway.

With a resigned grumble, she bids goodbye to the trio of humans sitting cross-legged around her and gets to her feet, reaching for the hammer that rests against a wall behind her.

Shoulders slumping, Jones curls his hands into fists. “You’re killing me here, Big guy.”

“You go with Elanya, or you don’t go at all,” Ulthane responds far too casually, the vaguest hint of a smile playing at the edges of his mouth.

Sometimes the temptation to reveal his true form and cause a tree-wide panic gets a little too hard to ignore...

#Darksiders #darksiders 3 #Strife #Jones #Ulthane #fluff #Elanya #Yarin

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royallyprincesslilly · 4 years

Text

Title: Meet The Parents: Christmas Edition {One Shot}

Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Fluff

Word: 2.3k

Summary/Request: “Bringing Chris home to your family for the first time.”

Note: Next up on Christmas With Lee. A great request from @toniilaney . I hope you enjoy this. Thank you for reading!!!!

~~~~~~~~~

“Why exactly are you freaking out?”

You looked over to your best friend who was sitting on your bed as you were ruffling through your closet. You were in the middle of packing and you’d put everything in and taken it all back out. You couldn’t decide on anything. Nothing you had seem right. You knew you were overthinking things. It was just clothes.

“Hello! Y/N?”

You looked back to see Tami looking at you expectantly. You took a deep breath and slowly released it. “I’m not freaking out.”

“You’re a bold-faced liar! You are freaking out and I don’t know why. This is a good thing, right? Weren’t you the one to suggest this? Isn’t this what you wanted?”

She was right. You were the one to suggest it. it was after the fact when Chris confronted you that you’d met his family in Boston but it being sixteen months since you’d been together that he had yet to meet your family. When he asked if you were ashamed of him or trying to hide him the only thing you could do was invite him to meet your family, it was your luck that it was Christmas time.

“It is a good thing. It is what I wanted. I am not freaking out.” You turned back to your closet and took out a few pieces of clothing off their hangers and brought them to your bed.

“She’s freaking out because she is bringing back a white boy to meet her parents and two older brothers, to the home she grew up in that is next door to you know who. You know who will most likely be home too and the chances of you know who and new white boy meeting are damn near one hundred percent.”

You glared at Rhonda as she walked into your bedroom with a carry out trey from Starbucks that housed three triple venti cups. When she sat down Tami took hers, but you didn’t move. “Come on, take it. you know you want this caramel, French vanilla latte. I even had them add the dash of cinnamon and pinch of nutmeg that you like.” Rhonda held it out to you with a sugary sweet smile on her face. You rolled your eyes.

“You’re lucky my ass needs this latte.” Snatching the delicious smelling liquid you took a generous sip and moaned.

“Are you freaking out because of Maurice?”

“No. No one is thinking about Maurice. To be honest I hadn’t thought about him for a long time.” It was a partial lie and as you walked back to your closet you faked it like it was real.

“Good because girl, you are dating Chris Evans. Movie star Chris Evans. Chris Evans that every woman would love to have at least once. You have him,” Tami voiced.

“Yes. I am and he’s a great guy and I love him.”

“Then why has it taken you almost two years to bring him home to meet your family?”

Ignoring Rhonda’s question, you continued to take clothes out of your closet to fold to place in your suitcase. “I just wanted to be sure he wasn’t—”

“Like Maurice?”

You rolled your eyes and continued with the task at hand.

“Of course, he’s nothing like Maurice. Y/N, we’ve met him, hung out with him, he invited us to that vacation you took to Thailand. Remember?”

You nodded. It was supposed to be a one on one trip but when he remembered your besties saying they’d always wanted to go he added them on and made it a group trip by inviting his family and friends and it turned out to be a really great time. You smiled at the fond memory that showcased so many of the things you loved about Chris. He was kind, thoughtful, generous, and always down to do anything for his friends and family. When you saw those characteristics, it wasn’t hard to fall in love with him.

“It doesn’t matter why it took me so long. The point of the matter is, we’re doing it now.”

Your friends looked at you half shocked that you’d just shut things down like that but also half reading you. Rhonda was the first to snort.

“I know why. You didn’t want them bumping into each other. You haven’t told Chris about Maurice have you?”

“No, I have not. It’s not important.”

“Not important to know the last man you were in a relationship asked you to marry him and you didn’t answer, you just left town and moved here and never went back? I think that is a pretty huge piece of about me that you missed.”

She was probably right, but you didn’t want to think about that. You knew for a fact that Maurice wouldn’t be there this Christmas and it was time for your family to meet the man of your dreams. Your phone chimed, you looked at it and saw a message from Chris.

MSG Chris: I’ll be there by two, the plane leaves at three-fifteen. See you soon. I love you.

You smiled and tapped a quick reply. Once you did you put your phone down, took a deep breath and released it. You refused for your nerves to get the best of you. This Christmas would be great, it had to be.

After a near hour drive to the airport and another three on the plane, you landed in your hometown. The entire journey Chris was recognized by everyone and their mother, and daughter. He must have signed a hundred autographs and taken fifty pictures. It was daunting. You never understood how he managed the limelight especially when he was trying to be a normal guy and live his life. He didn’t seem to mind, his smile never fell, his cheerful mood never turned, he even dropped a ho, ho, ho when a three-year-old boy asked if Captain America could say it. The little boy and everyone around seemed to love it.

You were so grateful that in your hometown people weren’t so celebrity crazed. Yeah, they would have a five-second shock freak-out but they, for the most part, were pretty chill. Now the two of you were sitting in a cab on the way to your house.

“Are you nervous?”

“Me? No,” you lied. Chris’ smile was wide.

“You’re so lying.” He laughed and kissed your temple.

“I’m not lying—not really.” Chris smiled then nodded.

“I get it. Meeting the family is a big thing. It’s normal to be nervous.”

“Were you nervous when you introduced me to yours?” He was looking out the window at all the twinkling Christmas lights on the houses, shops, and trees that the car passed. He shook his head.

“Nah. I was sure.”

“Sure? About what?” Chris turned to look at you. his eyes roamed over the features of your face before his hand softly brushed back a stray hair.

“About you—about us. I was sure you were the woman of my dreams and I wanted to share that with those I love.”

Just like that, your heart melted as did you right to his side. You dropped your head on his shoulder and hugged his arm tightly. “I love you Cre.”

He snorted and heartily laughed in the cab. You’d used the nickname for him that you used as a joke. It was the initials of his whole name. “God I hate the sound of that.”

You smiled and looked into his indigo looking eyes. “I know.” His lips lowered to yours and passionately kissed yours. The two of you got lost in the kiss in no time and quickly forgot where you were. Chris moaned on your lips which made your hand grip just above his knee at his thigh. He pulled his lips from yours with a smile.

“Be careful sugar, we don’t want a situation the first time I meet your family. I don’t think I’ll ever live it down.” The two of you giggled and cuddled close for the remainder of the ride.

When the cab stopped in front of your house that was decked out from roof to front yard his eyes lit up. “Wow, you guys go all out huh.”

“Yep. Christmas is my parent’s most favorite time of the year. Prepare yourself because the inside is worse.”

Chris took the bags from the trunk and maneuvered toward your front door. You smiled at his chivalrous nature, just another thing to love about him. At the front door, you raised your hand to knock but the door was yanked open before you could.

“There she is the little ice cream sandwich.” Your eyes bugged out at your two older brother’s familiar name. you knew what was going to happen.

“Don’t do it, don’t do it!” you held your hands up trying to keep them at bay. “We have company. For the love of God, don’t do it!” They halted their actions, looked at each other with a smirk and held their hands up in surrender. You were relieved.

“Come on in.” You walked inside with Chris on your heels.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding,” Chris responded. Once your feet were planed in the foyer your brothers bum rushed you and trapped you in the middle just like an ice cream sandwich as they lifted and squeezed the living life out of you. You groaned and screamed as their loud laughter. You could hear Chris laughing his ass off as well.

“Put me down, I—can’t—breathe!”

“Don’t kill my baby girl!” At the sound of your father, your brothers promptly put you back to the floor. You groaned and tried to catch your breath.

“I hate that! You guys know I’m a grown woman now not some six-year-old little girl, right?”

“Never too grown to be an ice cream sandwich,” Anthony boomed. You rolled your eyes at his six-foot bulky frame.

“You may be in the NFL, but I can still take you down. Watch yourself!” He smiled warmly and hugged you gently.

“Welcome home Y/N.” When you looked everyone was crowded in the foyer waiting for their hugs. You hugged your father, then your mother and your sister. They all happily chattered as they admired you.

“Holy shit, you’re Chris Evans.” Your head spun around realizing that your brothers had outed and introduced your boyfriend before you did.

“Uh—yes I am.”

“Thee Chris Evans? Captain America?” Your sister pushed to the front to have a look. When she saw him, her eyes lit up. “Wow, Y/N, you went big huh.” You snorted and pinched your lips and went back to Chris’ side.

“Everyone meet my boyfriend, Chris. Chris meet my brothers, Anthony and Raymond. My sister Rochelle, and my parents Michael and Ruth.” For a few moments they didn’t speak they just looked at each other then him. Your father was the first to approach him. he walked around him once then came to stand in front of him again. Then he looked him up and down. Chris looked calm but you could tell he was shook. You smirked and pinched your lips again.

“So, you’re the one who has been defiling my precious daughter.” His eyes bugged out with yours. “A big fancy movie star huh.” Chris never looked away from his eyes. For a second you felt like Chris was the prey and your father was the bear and he was using all the bear survival tips at once. Keep eye contact, back straight, head high, show no fear, hold your ground. You could hear the animal planet host of Surviving the Wild right now.

“Unfortunately, sir, yes,” Chris responded. You almost passed out. You knew he had balls, but he was showing them. “But, I respect, honor and love her and plan on making her an honest woman.” His words made your heart race. What the hell did that mean, you thought.

Your brothers were the first to laugh out loud, followed by everyone else. Your father held his hand out and Chris released a breath and shook his hand. “Welcome to my home Chris, it’s good to meet you.” you sighed out, happy to be past this first hurdle. Your sister leaned to your ear and whispered.

“Famous movie star, hot, and the parent tamer. Hmmm, color me impressed.”

You were too. Your parents showed you to the room you’d be staying in for the next few days and shockingly they were allowing you to sleep in the same room. This was unheard of. When Rochelle brought her boyfriend, he stayed in the guest room, the same with your brothers. The two of you settled in then went back downstairs to sit for dinner.

Throughout dinner, Chris charmed every member of your family. He told stories and jokes that had everyone laughing. When he was asked questions he answered, “yes ma’am, no sir”. He was kind and helpful to your grandparents and even your sister’s children. By the time everyone was sitting around the Christmas tree sipping drinks, talking and laughing he was on a first-name basis with your parents and grandparents which had taken everyone else years. You were marveled.

You didn’t know what you’d expected but this was not it. you knew Chris was charismatic, but this was evil genius charismatic. You heavily teased him that night about how good he was with parents and how much they like him.

“I was sure.” You smiled as you cuddled to him.

“Sure about what?

“Sure that they’d love me because it was meant to be sugar. You’re meant for me. Things that are meant have no resistance to happiness.” You looked up to him and smiled adoringly at him.

“I love you, Chris.”

“I love you too Y/N.

~~~~~~~~~~~

TagList:

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#meet the parents one shot #Christmas with lee #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans oneshot #Christmas fanfiction #fluff fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #Chris Evans X black reader #Christmas fics

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mommahimbo · 3 years

Text

Mirio x reader

Sunshine

*beep beep* I looked at my clock it read 7:30. I got up and dressed myself. Today was the first day of my third year at UA. I grabbed my bag putting on my headphones.

I headed to UA which was 15 minutes away listening to music in my own little world. It was my only escape other than school. With a drunken mom who was never home and a father who was long gone my life was pretty boring.

I was a kid that kept to myself. I didn't want to be at the top if I could just make it through this year I would be done and chase my passion in music.

I only attended UA in hopes of finding my dad but that was put to rest. When I quickly realized that my mom had lied to me and that my dad wasn't a big shot teacher at UA. I had been through all the grades and soon realized that my sperm doner had abandoned my mom after a one night stand.

Oh well too late to transfer out and to lazy to do anything about it. So I worked on my music balancing school too. I had a pretty cool quirk too it was called despair. Basically I could make anyone feel ultimate despair when my left eye turned red. Draw back was if I used it longer than 1 hour I would start bleeding from my ears and nose with a pounding migraine.

Because of my quirk I wasn't so popular at school because it was a villains quirk but I was still strong on my own without my quirk. So it all good.

I approached the school. A kid sped past me. He looked so dense waving his arms violently. He ran inside weird must be the new kids. I entered the school. And headed to my classroom only to be stopped by top 1 of the school mr Mirio Togata.

"Hey y/n! How was your summer?" He smiled at me. I took off my headphones and smiled back at him "It was great what about you Mirio?" I returned the question. I did my best to be nice because people would usually get the wrong impression because of my rbf.(resting bitch face)

"You're awfully cheerful" he said pinching my cheek. That shiz hurt so I rubbed my cheeks afterword. "Well glad to see you haven't changed mr. sunshine" I said giggling at him.

I hadn't noticed but a tint of pink spread across his face. He then quickly left covering his face marching over to Tamaki. Well that was weird did I do something wrong? I thought. Brushing it off and heading to my class. I was in the same class as the top three. Not to brag but I was doing pretty good for a person with no motivation whatsoever.

“Good morning l/n” My teacher for the year beamed at me. “Good morning to you too miss r/n” I smiled at her. These teacher were all the same it was kind of irritating. I mean I had no big problems with it but were was the spice? For gods sake they were hero’s but this was established since my first year.

I looked for my seat near the back towards the window. (Main character energy ya hear me fuck deku and his ofa🙄jk I really like deku) Since I was really smart keeping up wasn’t a problem and I always liked to look at the Sakura trees in the distance from my seat.

“Hey y/n what are still doing in UA you freak.” Giggled r/n she was always bothering me because of my quirk and I never paid much attention to her. “Nothing just couldn’t leave you thinking about how lonely you would get without me.” I smiled at her. “Just die already freak." She glared at me arching her eyebrows. "If you keep glaring at me like that you're gonna get wrinkles. That wouldn't look good on your pretty face." I winked at her. "Whatever you fucking freak" She flipped her hair as she walked away.

I didn't like getting bullied but I didn't want to draw attention to myself so I did nothing. "Hey y/n are you okay?" Asked Nejire with a concerned look. She was always so sweet and kind not to mention beautiful. "Yeah I'm fine Nejire thanks for asking." I smiled at her. She walked away with such elegance I could help but stare at her in admiration. To be honest I was a little jealous she was so perfect it seemed surreal not to mention she was close to Mirio I always wanted to be close to Mirio in ways more than friends would but it seemed so out of reach I never even tried to chase him.

Enough with the sad dead dreams. I didn't come here today to be even more sad about my life the only reason I'm here is to escape that fact that I have a sad life, let's get ready for all the emotional backlash this year ladies and gentlemen. Like the great Tyler the Creator once said "Fuck em" and I live by that. "Okay students settle down today we are gonna test your abilities and how much they've grown this summer." The teacher announced. Here we go again.

We walked out to the field out by the school. While we walked out we crossed paths with the first year's. Wow they really looked intimidating. So scary~ But one caught my eye he had curly green hair with freckles all across his cheeks and nose. But that wasn't the point he had a broken finger. I've never heard of anyone breaking bones with the quirk apprehension test.

We sped through the test I came out in fourth place. I could've scored higher but I didn't want too. I guess that didn't make r/n to happy. Because at lunch I was shoved into the side of the staircase by r/n and her 1st year goonies. "How dare you score higher than me you freak. It's time I teach you your place you monster." Her and her 'friends' then continued to beat me till blood was spurting out my mouth. "Just kill yourself already. You are worthless you freak."

Me a FREAK? Why was I letting her get to me. No I never wanted to be a hero I just wanted to get through this year. It's seems as if I wasn't gonna make it. Maybe she is right? Maybe I should kill myself? AS IF!! I may be a freak and my mom may have not been around a lot and I don't have a dad but when she was around she taught me not to take shit from anyone. I certainly wasn't gonna take shit from a bitchy nobody like r/n.

It's decided this year I'm gonna push out all my talent as a hero and leave everyone in the dust. I will be the greatest almost hero and that starts now. "R/n maybe all that air in your head made you forget but you will never be better than me. This year I'll leave you in the dust and show you how fucking useless you are that you will regret everything." I laughed at her blood dripping out my mouth my hand clutching my stomach. "You crazy bitch! I'll show you." She yelled swinging her fist at me. I caught it and threw her to the ground and shot a glare at her goonies making them back off. "Come near me like that again and I will fucking destroy you." I warned them looking down. That day y/n walked away from them head held up high every step taken with confidence sending a shiver up they're spines.

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

I'm gonna explain y/n's quirk a bit more.

Ultimate despair can make someone get dragged into their own thoughts basically trapping them and paralyzing them in state of fear in a way. This leads to them going into state of mass hysteria and eventually using turning their quirk and own physical abilities against themselves. It can have long term affects if used on a person for more than 15 minutes. It can be used on up to 5 people at a time.

#bnha #mirio x you #mha mirio #writing #fanfic #anime #my hero fanfic #boku no hero fanfic

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softboywriting · 5 years

Text

Holding Fire | Shawn Mendes | Firefighter AU

Summary: Shawn is the newest member of Fire Station 15′s crew and he’s a hot one. It’s not long before you and Shawn hit it off and start an amazing new relationship. Will it last or go up in flames? [firefighter au] [slight angst] [fluff]

Word Count: 18k

|Masterlist In Bio|

When you were ten years old you watched your father’s bakery burn to the ground. When you were sixteen years old you watched your house burn to the ground. Now at twenty two you work at the deli across the street from the fire station that responded to both of those fires and saved you and your families lives. Two of the older firefighters and your father's ex coworkers, Mike and Jack, both stayed in contact with you and became like family to you and your sister after your father died when you were nineteen.

The owner of the deli is Mike, now an ex firefighter, and he hired you just after your dad passed away. The deli is nice and small, you have a few tables for eat in guests and you serve sandwiches and breakfast made to order on Saturday and Sunday mornings. It’s a local hang out for a lot of the town’s police officers and firefighters and it really feels like home. You have gotten to know everybody by name, you’ve memorized their orders and you even keep up with their personal lives as they come in and talk about their day while you make their lunches. Nothing ever changed much in your little town, not until you watched Shawn walk through the doors of the deli one day, Fire and Safety Station 15 shirt tight across his chest. That day...well...it was something.

______________

“Has lover boy stopped in yet today?” Mariel, your best friend and colleague asks from where she is wiping down the cutting boards after slicing up some lettuce for the upcoming lunch rush. “I heard he couldn’t stop staring at you the other day.”

“Mariel! That is not true! Who told you that?” you laugh and she just zips her lips. “Oh you’re the worst. But no, he hasn’t come in today. It’s not even lunchtime yet, he’s probably out working.”

“Oh yes, out saving kittens from trees and kissing babies!” Mariel cackles as she heads to the back room to grab some bread to put in the oven. “Oh Shawn, please, come rescue me!”

You turn scarlet and throw a towel at her. “Stop it! You’re so mean!”

“You’re so single. Get his number, or I will.”

“Mariel you wouldn’t.” She raises her eyebrows as if to challenge your statement. “Mare, you better not. You know I like him and that would be-”

Someone clears their throat at the order counter behind you and you turn around to see Shawn standing there with a flushed face and mess of wet curls on his head. “Could I order?” he smiles, biting his lip.

“H-how long have you been standing there?” you splutter, grabbing your order pad and a pen out of your pocket.

“Long enough to know you were arguing about a guy?” Shawn laughs and you let out a sigh. He hadn’t heard his name. Thank god.

You put your pen and pad on the counter and start scribbling down the orders Shawn gives you for the guys at the station. “And what would you like?” you ask, looking up to see he is smiling at you.

“Actually, I’d like you to make me something today. Your favorite?”

“Yeah?” you giggle and he crosses his arms, making that oh so fitted tee pull across his chest. “You think you can handle my favorite?”

Shawn bites his lip and chuckles. “I think I can handle it, just no tuna please. I’m not wild on tuna salad sandwiches.”

“Damn, my favorite is the tuna.”

“Really?”

You laugh and shake your head. “No! No really. Tuna is gross. Alright, one special of the day.” You scribble it down on your order pad and clip it up on the sandwich station. Mariel comes over and helps you to prepare meats on the slicer for the sandwiches while Shawn leans with his arms folded against the high counter where the toppings are all displayed for easy choosing.

“He’s staring at you,” Mariel whispers and you clench your jaw. “I think he is looking at your ass.”

“Mariel, I’m going to slice my hand if you don’t stop distracting me.”

“I’m just saying, he’s staring right over the counter like a love sick puppy dog.”

You turn around to grab a new ham from the cold case under the topping station and you’re met with Shawn staring, just like Mariel said. “Was there something else you needed?” you ask and Shawn shakes his head. “Just curious?”

“Very curious.”

Mariel turns around and grins. “Curious enough to ask for her number?”

Shawn turns bright red and looks between the two of you. “Well I-I really meant I was curious about what kind of sandwich she's making me.”

“It's a special. Don't worry about it,” you smile teasingly and Shawn drops his head against the top of the case. “I know what you like.”

“Damn girl,” Mariel clucks, elbowing your side. “He's gonna turn into a tomato if you keep up that flirting.”

From the counter behind you, you hear a mumbled “too late” and you know it's Shawn still hiding his face in his arms. He was so cute, a grown man but still somehow boyishly cute. Ugh. Perfect.

You prepare Shawn's sandwich the way you like yours on your lunch break. A classic Italian with extra pepperoni, olive moufletta and spicy brown mustard, toasted. You're sure he will love it. He always got the Italian cold or the French dipped roast beef with extra onion and pepper relish. You had to admit, the guy had good taste in sandwiches. Unlike some guys who came in and they looked cute but their plain turkey with American cheese and mayo turned you way off. Bland eats what bland is.

Mariel helps you sack up the sandwiches and label them according to the list Shawn gave you. She spares you any further embarrassment or attempts at flirting and rings him up while you clean up the slicer and building station. That doesn't stop Shawn from saying goodbye, smiling and tucking a ten dollar bill into the tip jar on his way out.

“You gotta get that man tied down,” Mariel says as she watches him jog across the street. “He's too fine to be the one that got away.”

You wipe your hands on your apron and shrug. “Well...I dunno. I'm just a little wary about him. Like where did he come from? We know everyone in town and this mysterious stranger just appears and has an interest in me? I dunno.”

Mariel rolls her eyes. “You're such a weirdo. If you need to know his whole life story why don't you ask him out?”

“I can't! I mean look at him!”

“Look at you! Damn he thinks you're the best thing since sliced bread! Come on girl read the signals, they're saying, date me date me in big flashing red letters!” Mariel flashes her hands out in front of you for emphasis. “Don't. Let. Him. Slip. Away.”

“Okay! Fine. This weekend is the annual firehouse block party. I'll try to talk to him then.”

“You better or else I'm going to find some way to trap you in a room with him so you have no choice.”

“I will. I promise.”

__________________

Station 15’s annual block party was the event of the summer. It was held at the end of August every year rain or shine and always included live music, barbecue, dancing, games, you name it. Ever since you were little you could remember going to it. The real fun started after the kids went home and it was just the adults in the firehouse drinking and shooting the shit with each other. You remember how your dad would always talk for hours with Mike and Jack, sending you and your sister home with the babysitter for the night. It wasn't until you were eighteen that you were allowed to stay, and even then it was mostly older towns people who stuck around.

These days there was a lot more of a younger crowd, people in their twenties like you are. All your friends having come back from college or having already graduated. The party is bigger now, with families growing every year it seemed. You love it, seeing everyone so happy and together. Usually you'd end up playing games with the young kids because they always looped you into their shenanigans, but this year you had a different agenda. One with Shawn written all over it.

“Can I get a whiskey ginger?” You call out to the guy with his back to you at the bar that is set up inside the firehouse garage. He turns and you find it's none other than Shawn.

“Hey,” he beams, smile going ear to ear. “I didn't know if I'd see you tonight.”

“Ah yeah, I come every year. What about you? Why are you bartending?”

Shawn grabs a bottle of whiskey and starts preparing your drink. “Well I volunteered while the actual bartender stepped out to get some more ice. He should be back soon.”

“Do you know what you're doing?” You chuckle as he accidentally pours the soda all over the little wooden countertop.

“Shit,” he mumbles, wiping it up quick. “I do know what I'm doing surprisingly. Bar tending put me through college,” he chuckles, passing you your drink in it's red solo cup.

You raise your eyebrows. A firefighter who was a bartender who possibly has a degree. What kind of dream boat were you dealing with. “That's interesting, what'd you go to college for?”

“Nothing really, I ended up just going to a community college in Ashland for two years before I decided I hated it. A friend of mine got me into the fire academy and here I am.”

“Wow, you like it though? Firefighting?”

Shawn makes himself a whiskey ginger as well and places it next to yours on the counter top. “It has its days but it's generally very rewarding.”

The bartender returns with a bag of ice that he pours into a cooler. You recognize him to be a guy you went to high school with that you're pretty sure your sister dated. You don't want to hash that past out so you grab your drink and lead Shawn over to a couple of lawn chairs set up for the fireworks show.

“How bout you? College?” Shawn asks as he sinks into the chair beside you. He takes a sip and smiles expectantly.

You shake your head. “College wasn't really on the table for me when I graduated. My sister and I had a hard time after our house burnt down when I was in high school. Then not too long after I graduated my dad died so, it just...it was hell for a few years there.”

“Oh, wow. I didn't realize that I had brought up such a sore subject I'm so sorry.”

You take a sip and lean back in your chair. Your dad's passing still hurt, even three years later and it still felt like just a few months ago. You missed him, especially during things like this, things he helped set up in the community. “No, it's fine. It's been three years now. Cait and I are surviving, I've got the deli and my side business. She got married last year and has a kid on the way.”

“Side business?”

“Yeah, I bake. My dad was a great baker, he started late in life after an accident as a firefighter messed up his leg, had his own place and everything. It burned down, but he reopened a year later. When he passed I couldn't run it alone and Cait had already moved out of town and was starting her own life. We closed up and I started work at the deli while baking on the side, mostly catering small events.”

Shawn crosses his arms and just looks at you. In awe of you it would seem. “You've survived two fires? Damn. My story isn't half as interesting.”

“Oh yeah? Spill your guts.”

“Well, I graduated and had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. So I took a few classes at the community college just to get some credits out of the way y’know. I picked up bartending with a friend at a bar in downtown Ashland for some extra cash. I did that for about two years before realizing I hated everything about college and the stress caused me ulcers. Another friend of mine had just joined the fire academy and I figured why not? Turned out I was pretty good at saving people.”

“So you never dreamed of being a firefighter? Like as a kid?”

“Nah, never. I wanted to be a doctor but I couldn't commit. Too much responsibility and too many years of school. I guess I just wanted to help people, and this job is just as rewarding and important as being a doctor.”

You glance over and he has his head back, watching the stars appear in the darkening sky overhead. His profile is amazing, strong jaw, perfectly shaped nose and soft lips. He was living art and you're not drunk enough to be admiring him this way. “That's pretty deep,” you say over a sip of your drink. “Do you always pour your heart out to women you like?”

Shawn chuckles as his smile grows wide, a flush on his cheeks. “I don't but I guess you're easy to talk to.”

“Yeah? You're easy to talk to too.”

A loud noise from your left makes you jump and you see a big glowing ball shoot into the air. It's the first firework and it pops, showering the sky with purple and blue light. Shawn downs the rest of his drink and stands, moving his chair right beside you instead of a foot or two away. You don't say anything about the boldness but you like it. He was definitely one worth pursuing.

______________

Sunday. You're still feeling the effects of the block party as you walk to work. You rarely drank enough to get drunk but when you did, whew, you sure did. You and Shawn had ended up meeting up with a couple of the other firefighters and staying up until well after midnight drinking and chatting. It was the most fun you've had in ages and the residual gross body and headache was well worth it.

“So you and hot stuff get together?” Mariel asks as you slip your apron over your head to start the day. “I saw you two in the firehouse drinking and giggling.”

“No,” you chuckle, grabbing some sausage from the fridge to get it started for breakfast. “Shawn walked me home and we parted ways at my doorstep. Like a gentleman.”

“Right but did he kiss you?”

“Mariel, come on! He didn't kiss me. He just said goodnight and went home.”

Mariel snorts. “Do you think he's...”

You sigh and send her a look that could cut glass. “No. I don't think he is gay. He was plenty interested in me and it is not like the time that I read everything completely wrong with William Hannover.” You flip your sausage patty angrily, hitting the flattop with a little more force than necessary with your spatula. Just the idea of going through the embarrassment like you did with William was enough to piss you off. “God, just because he didn't kiss me after one night doesn't mean he's gay. I'll have you know he was-”

Mariel eyes go wide and she mouths “Shawn” and points to the front counter. You turn slowly and Shawn is standing there. He looks like he's just gotten out of the shower, cheeks rosy and hair a little damp and wildly curly on top. His shirt is threatening to rip over his biceps as he puts his arms up on the counter. That must be some damn good cotton stretch fabric. He raises his eyebrows at you. God only knows how long he was standing there but clearly heard you going off.

“Good morning,” he says softly. “And for the record, I am not gay.”

“Oh my God.” You feel like you could just die. Just shrivel up and blow away like a tumbleweed. “I don't think- I mean Mariel just said that because you didn't kiss me...not that you needed to because...fuck.” You put your hand over your flushed face. What a complete ass you've made of yourself. “I've just had a misunderstanding in the past and it's really stupid and-”

“It's okay. I'm not offended or something. I just didn't kiss you because we were drunk, and I don't think anyone should do anything if they're not fully aware and consenting.” Shawn brings his hand up to prop up his chin as he stares at you, smiling around his words. “I actually came by to see if you'd like to go on a date.”

Mariel steps in and grabs the spatula from you. She pushes you toward Shawn with a “I'll worry about the food, go talk to him.”

You walk up to the counter and bite your lip. A date huh? Were you up for that? Maybe. “What kind of date?”

“Dinner? Walk on the beach? Matching tattoos?” He smirks at the last one and you narrow your eyes.

“Dinner is fine. Casual or fancy?”

“Is casual okay? Your choice of restaurant.”

You take a deep breath and smile. “Okay, casual it is. Meet me at The Crab Shack?”

“Tonight or this weekend?”

“This weekend is good. Saturday around six?”

“Perfect. Now, can I get some breakfast or...”

“Oh shit,” you feel around your apron for your order pad. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Shawn laughs. “Take your time, it's a big order. All the guys want something.”

_____________________

Wednesday. You wake up and you just know it's going to be a shitty day. When you look at the calendar and see the date, you know exactly why. It's been a year since you broke up with your ex, Brodie Douglas. Six months you dated him and it seemed serious, you were sure he was gonna be the one you settled down with. Until you caught him in your bed with another girl. It was disgusting. You actually took your mattress to the dump after that and used your savings to buy a new one.

You hadn't seen Brodie since then. The day he left your house he was gone for good. He didn't live in town, he lived closer to Ashland about an hour away. It hurt, still sort of hurt to be honest and every guy since him had been a real flop too. Until Shawn. He actually seemed to have some respect for women and other human beings in general.

You push your thoughts aside, putting the past in the past where it belongs. You had work to do, people to see, a life to live. A life without any assholes in it.

You get in the shower, hot steam filling the bathroom. Your favorite body wash is almost out and you sigh, filling it halfway with hot water and shaking up the remains. That sucked. You definitely didn't want to make a trip into Ashland just to go to the bath and body works. The cab fare alone would dig into your savings. Regular drugstore body wash it would be then.

Midway through soaping up your hair you hear a knock on your front door. You figure if you ignore them they'll probably go away. Besides if it was someone you know then they could text or call you before coming over. You continue washing and the knocking returns.

“Okay fucking really,” you mutter, snatching your towel off the rack and going to the front door. Your hair is dripping wet and there is soap in your left eye. This person better really need something. “Hello?” You ask sharply as you pull open your front door to the cold morning air.

The person on your porch turns and your stomach drops. It's Brodie. His hair has grown out, he looks like he's gained a few pounds and by Gods he's so ugly. Why the fuck were you ever with him? Did he always look like this? Fucking hell.

“Hey, long time no see,” he smiles weakly.

“Goodbye.” You slam the door in his face and flip the lock. This was a joke right? He was going to show up a year later on the day you kicked him out? This had to be some sick joke. What kind of psychopath was he?

“Wait! I need to talk to you!” Brodie yells through the door and you turn to go back to your shower. If he thought you wanted to hear a single word out of his mouth then he was gravely mistaken. “God you're such a bitch!”

You take your time getting ready for work, blow drying your hair and putting on your lotion far slower than you ever would regularly. You want to make sure he is gone before you leave the house. At a quarter till 7 you peek out your front curtains. His car is still parked across the street. The same piece of shit Honda he had before. Great.

You leave the house out the back and jump your neighbors fence to cut across the yards to the intersecting street that lead to the deli. You're sure Brodie is going to notice you haven't left the house and he'll come searching for you eventually, figuring out you snuck out the back. You'd deal with that when you came to it.

Surprisingly work goes smoothly for the most of the morning. You don't mention Brodie to Mariel because you know she will hunt him down and probably knife him. She was there for you after the break up and dealt with the fallout with you. She hated Brodie about as much as you did. It's not until lunch that shit hits the fan.

You're in the middle of making an order for the station that Jeremy called in a little after noon when Brodie appears. You've just finished an italian sub and you look up the see Brodie standing there at the counter.

“Hey, come on, hand me the...” Mariel trails off as she turns to see what was taking you so long. “What the fuck do you want?” She sneers, eyes boring a hole through Brodie and into the back wall.

“I need to talk to you,” Brodie says completely disregarding Mariel's existence. “I wanted to talk about-”

“Yeah I really wanna talk to you after you called me a bitch this morning.”

Mariel steps around in front of you and grabs the lettuce knife out of it's holder on the counter. She rests her arm casually up on the top of the countertop window, knife dangling oh so threateningly. “Listen buddy. If she wanted to talk to you, she'd give you a call. You fucked up, you don't get a second chance.”

“Please I just want to apologise. It wasn't me, I wasn't myself back then or at the house today,” he says, leaning to look past Mariel to where you've turned your back to him.

“Fuck off,” Mariel growls. “Or you're going to be the special of the day.”

“I'm not talking to you bitch,” Brodie sneers at her and pushes off the counter, knocking the tip jar to the ground where it shatters. “I'll see you later then,” he says and he slams the door behind him, the bell chiming harshly throughout the deli.

Marel drops the knife in it's holder and puts her arm around you. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, tears in your eyes. “Thanks. He showed up at the house this morning but I shut the door on him. I knew he'd be back but I just...I just wasn't ready.”

“No no, it's okay. I got your back.”

“Thanks Mare. I hope he gets the hint y'know?”

“Yeah or else.”

_____________

Brodie doesn't get the hint because he's about as thick as an oak door when it comes to reading situations. It's 3pm and you're heading home, watching for Brodie's car as you exit the deli, hand on the pepper spray in your pocket. Not that you think Brodie would try anything but you never know. You're crossing the street toward the fire station when you see him. He's heading toward you on foot as if he had been waiting at the park catty corner to the deli.

You know exactly where to go. The firehouse. All the guys knew you, it would be safer than walking alone with Brodie following you. You keep your eyes locked on the side door to the garage where the trucks are kept. It was always unlocked while the guys were in house. You had delivered sandwiches a few times. You can hear Brodie getting closer, his boots scraping on the pavement behind you.

The door opens just as you get to it and you push past Jeremy, the current station manager. Jeremy mumbles a quiet “What the hell?” But you don't waste time explaining.

Shawn is sitting on one of the old sofas in the living area that is open to the garage and he looks up as you make a bee line for him. He was safe. He would keep Brodie out. You know it. “Hey, what's going on,” he asks and stands up, circling the sofa to meet you.

“I...can you take me home?”

“Yeah, you okay?” Shawn lays his hand on your arm and rubs up to your shoulder. “You look pretty shaken.”

“Was that guy bothering you?” Jeremy asks as he walks into the living area. “I saw him following you and then turn away when you came in.”

You glance over at Jeremy and shake your head. “Yeah, he's nobody. It's fine. I just need a ride.”

“No, was he bothering you?” Shawn asks, stepping past you and heading to the door. “I can go talk to him. No, y'know what, I'm gonna.”

“Shawn don't.” You follow after him but his stride is longer and he is already opening the door. It's half closed by the time you get to it and when you go out you can see Shawn walking across the driveway towards Brodie who's heading back to the park. “Shawn! Stop!”

You jog over just as Shawn reaches Brodie. “Hey, you,” Shawn barks and Brodie turns around.

You grab Shawn's arm and pull him but it's no use. He's far bigger than you in every way. There is no way you can hold him back, he's over six feet of basically pure muscle. His arm flexes under your grip and you can't help but squeeze tighter. “Shawn, please.”

“The fuck do you want dude?” Brodie asks, eyes going to you and then to your hands around Shawn's arm, and finally to Shawn's face.

“You better leave her alone, and stop following girls home.”

Brodie scoffs. “I wasn't following her home. I just need to discuss some private business with her.”

“Yeah, that seems like it would have been a very one sided conversation if she came to the firehouse to get away from you.”

“Who the fuck are you anyway? Her fuckin body guard?”

“Brodie, just go away. I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to hear anything you have to say. We're done, it's over. It's been a year, move on dude. I have.” You step back so you're more behind Shawn. For some reason you're very uncomfortable with Brodie. Something about him wasn't right.

Brodie clicks his tongue and lets out a dark chuckle. “Oh I see what this is. He's your boyfriend right? Got yourself a firefighter in case your house burns down again?”

That hurt. Like a punch to the gut. You don't have time to snap back at him because Shawn's arm is pulling away from yours and colliding with his face. The sound is sickening and you're sure Brodie's nose is broken. He drops like a sack of potatoes, crumpling to his knees on the pavement holding his face.

“Let's go,” Shawn says, shaking his hand out and putting his arm around you to walk you away. “I'll drive you home.”

“You hit him, Shawn, you just punched him!”

“Yeah because he was being an asshole. Don't act like you didn't think about doing it yourself.”

You try to look back, not out of concern, but out of curiosity. Shawn turns your head back forwards and keeps walking you toward his truck parked in the stations lot. “Is he going to be okay?”

Shawn shrugs. “Listen,” he stops with you by the passenger side of the truck. “If you wanna go back and see if he's okay, be my guest. Somehow I really don't think you're going to though. Now can you get in the truck so I can take you home?”

You look back and Brodie is still on the ground. Fuck no you weren't going to go over there. He was an asshole and frankly Shawn was right. You had thought about punching him in his stupid face since the day you found him cheating. Yeah your punch probably would not have done nearly as much damage and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't just as gratifying to have Shawn punch him for you. Maybe he'd get the hint now.

Shawn clicks to unlock his truck on his key fob and you open the door to climb up and in. It's really nice, clean inside like it was new and big. Fitting for a guys Shawn's size. Somehow you don't think it's an overcompensation thing. Shawn gets in and starts it up, pulling out of the lot and passing Brodie who is now up and heading toward the park again. You get just barely a glimpse but you could tell his face is a gruesome scene. Suits him. The ugly prick.

Shawn drops you off, walking you up to your door and making sure you get inside okay. You highly doubt that Brodie would come after you for any reason but honestly you couldn't be one hundred percent sure. He seemed to have snapped and lost his mind in the last year.

“You sure you're gonna be okay? I can stay a while just in case,” Shawn says leaning against the doorway. “I don't mind.”

“No, it's fine. I don't think he's going to bother me anymore. If he shows up I'll call the cops.”

“Yeah, good idea. But just in case I'll give you my number.”

You raise your eyebrows. He was slick. Just working that number exchange right in there like that. “Alright, okay,” you smile, shaking your head as you pull out your phone and he tells you his number. “I'll text you if I need you.”

“What's your number?” He asks, pulling his own phone out of his cargo pocket.

You shake your head. “I'll text you if I need you. Then you'll get my number.”

Shawn smiles, chuckling just a little. He thought he was slick, well, you were slicker. “Alright then. I see how it is. Well, have a good night. Be safe.”

“Yes sir,” you murmur with a little salute as you grab the door and close it with a goodnight. Letting him in was tempting but you think maybe you oughta have a first date before he gets to see the inside of your place. You'd learned your lesson about diving head first into relationships already.

___________________

Saturday. You're sitting on a bench outside the crab shack waiting for Shawn to show up. It's a calm night, breezy and a little chilly. Enough to warrant a light jacket. You mentally note to ask for a inside table and not one on the deck. The restaurant is fairly busy, Saturday night being a popular date and family night apparently. You're not too surprised though. You used to work weekends bussing tables here in high school for about a year before things went to shit with your house and your dad falling ill.

You sigh, looking up at the big decorative crab that held onto the sign over the front doors. As a kid you always begged your dad to lift you up to touch it. It wasn't until you were eight that you ever actually reached it. How satisfying that day was.

“Hey.”

You turn and look to see who's calling out and you see Shawn walking up in a pair of jeans and a nice sweater. “Oh, hey, you made it.”

“Of course I did. Whatcha looking at?” He asks, nodding toward the sign.

“Oh nothing. Just the crab. I used to beg my dad to lift me up to touch it.” You chuckle at how ridiculous that sounds now. “Come on, let's go inside.”

Shawn lets you lead the way along the sidewalk and up to the doors. As you approach the doors a pair of hands wrap around your waist and suddenly you're being lifted up. You let out a shriek and you hear Shawn laughing.

“Touch the crab!” He says, hardly audible through his laughter.

You reach out and touch the lowest dangling leg and he brings you down quickly. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“Oh you know you wanted to touch the crab.”

You smack his chest and he giggles, jumping back to avoid further assault. “Okay, okay I'll warn you next time.”

“Oh so you think there's gonna be a next time?”

“A guy can hope right?”

“Right,” you roll your eyes and walk into the restaurant, Shawn hot on your heels.

The two of you are seated right away in a booth that had a window out to the deck. You chat a little bit about how the firehouse is pretty slow and Shawn mostly naps all day or works out. The waiter comes and takes your orders. You get a burger with a side salad and Shawn gets the shrimp linguine. He makes fun of you for not getting seafood at the seafood restaurant but it's all in good fun. You both know the burgers are just as killer as the seafood and he really can't blame you.

“So, how'd you end up here?” You ask, sipping on your strawberry lemonade.

“The firehouse was looking to hire on a few guys and I was looking to get a job.”

“So you grew up in Ashland?”

Shawn shakes his head. “No, I grew up in Benton. I just went to the community college in Ashland.”

“Benton? The farm town?”

“Yeah, my parents are soybean farmers. I am a farm kid,” he chuckles, looking out the window. “What a shocker I know.”

“Not really. You definitely aren't like any of the guys from the city I've ever known. I guess you were probably raised better than a lot of them though.”

“I dunno. I mean my parents instilled a lot of values into me as a kid, but I got into my fair share of trouble and I had my less than graceful moments growing up.”

You shrug. “I think we all have had our moments in our youth, it's whether or not you learn from them and grow up that matters.”

“You're right, that's a good way of putting it. Damn did I learn some hard lessons though. What about you? Are you from here?”

“Yep. Born and raised here. My parents were both bakers, my mom passed away shortly after I was born so I never really knew her.”

“I'm so sorry.”

“No, no it's fine,” you pause, stirring your lemonade. “Cait, my sister, was like a mom to me growing up. Well, as motherly as she could be. She's only five years older.”

“You said your parents were bakers, that's what you like to do too right?”

“Yeah. I have all my dad's recipes and I'd love to have my own place one day but that's a far off dream. For now I just cater small events and I have a Facebook page.”

The food arrives and your conversation slows as you eat but quickly picks back up as you start discussing the food and trying each other's meals. Shawn tells you about the first time he came to the crab shack with the guys from the station. They ordered two crab boils and ate out on the deck on the long party tables. You'd done it once before for Mike’s birthday a few years back.

The night dwindles down and your pack up what's left of your burger and a few of Shawn's shrimps that he saved for you. He pays, refusing to show you the bill and saying don't worry about it even though you insisted on splitting the cost.

Shawn drives you home, walking you to your door like he had done each time he had taken you home before. This time though you don't go inside right away, you linger on the porch.

“Thanks for dinner.”

“You're welcome, I hope you had fun. I know I did.”

“It was great. And thanks again, y'know for the other day with Brodie.”

Shawn crosses his arms and chuckles, looking down as he kicks the toes of his boots against your doormat. “Of course. Anytime. I don't mind punching a douchebag.”

“Fuck, oh my god no!” You laugh, pushing his shoulder. “I meant thank you for being there for me in general. I don't want you punching people.”

“Right, right. But you kinda liked it, I know you did because you had a little triumphant smile on your face the whole way home afterwards.” He reaches out and pinches your cheek. “Just a cute little smirk right here.”

“Quit it!” You giggle, batting at his arm.

He flattens his hand and cups your jaw, instantly changing the whole mood from playful to intimate. His fingers brush against the nape of your neck, thumb smoothing over the little chicken pox scar on your cheek from when you were very little. “You look beautiful tonight,” he says quietly, stepping closer so there's but a few inches between you.

“You're not too bad yourself.”

“Can I kiss you goodnight?” Shawn asks, eyes heavy on your lips.

You give a little nod and he leans in. His lips are soft against yours and he caresses the back of your head. It's easily the tenderest kiss you've ever received and it leaves you a little speechless.

“Goodnight, I'll see you tomorrow.”

You nod numbly, the feeling of his lips lingering as he steps off the porch. He crosses the yard and gets into his truck. You're left there, nerves memorizing the feel of his hand in your hair, his palm on your cheek, his lips on your lips. You never want to snap out of it, you want to stay like this forever.

______________________

For the next few days Shawn stops in for meals for the firehouse. He always chats a bit, making you giggle and flush. Mariel loves to tease you endlessly when he leaves but you can't care because he makes you so happy. Shawn hasn't mentioned a second date yet and you don't want to bring it up in case he doesn't want to, though you're sure he does. You suspect he may be giving you space after the Brodie incident.

You have an event to cater on Thursday. A baby shower in town for your ex coworker Cara. She has asked for three dozen baby boot shaped cookies in blue icing and a small cake with blue iced middle an a white outside. A classic gender reveal cake. You start work on Tuesday so you can be ready to go on Wednesday evening. It's a fairly simple order.

Thursday after work you head to the party, driving Mariel's car to transport the baked goods safely. You arrive and the mother to be, Cara, is elated with the cookies and cake. She helps you set up the cake on a stand and get the cookies into a little box she had on hand to keep them a secret until the reveal.

You're on the deck outback talking to an old friend from high school when you hear a familiar voice. Shawn. You turn and look through a small crowd of people and see him, towering over everyone by the sliding glass doors. He is hugging Cara, and holds up a little bag with a bow on it. So he knows Cara, small world.

“Hey you,” Shawn grins, catching your eye and walking over after greeting Cara. “What're you doing here?”

“I could ask the same.”

“Cara is my cousin.”

“Ohh. I know her because she used to work at the deli. Wow such a small world.”

Shawn chuckles. “Very small. Can I get you a drink?”

“I'm good. Thanks though. How's work been? I know you said you had a call on Monday and that's why you didn't come in for lunch.”

“Yeah, it wasn't much. Just some punk kids setting fire in a trash can at the high school. Everything was fine.” Shawn follows you as you walk into the house because Cara is gathering everyone around for cake and cookies before starting the baby shower games. “How bout you?”

“Usual, work and then going home.”

“No word from Brodie?”

You shake your head. “Nothing. I think he got the message to leave me alone.” You take a seat on a stool in the kitchen while everyone gathers around Cara at the table in the attached dining area. “Have you been keeping your distance because of Brodie?”

Shawn raises his eyebrows. “I've been keeping my distance?”

You shrug.

“Is this because I haven't asked you out again? Because Brodie has nothing to do with that. I promise I want to go out again but I've been covering Ryan's over nights at the station. His wife is sick and I volunteered to help him out.”

“You've been working twenty four hours?”

“More like seventy two hours almost. I got this evening off since Ryan wasn't scheduled.”

“You are gonna crash. I know you can take naps at the station but still, it's not good sleep.” You lay your hand on his arm. “Promise me you'll get some rest tonight?”

“I promise I will. Are you free Friday night?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Meet me at the station around eight?”

You raise your eyebrows and he looks away as the group around the table cheer in congratulations for Cara. James, Cara's husband, calls Shawn over and he walks away to give Cara a hug and congratulate her as well. You watch as he snags a cookie from the box on the table and grins at you, holding it up before taking big bite while James talks to him about something. You roll your eyes. You were definitely going to go on the date with him, even if it was just hanging out at the firehouse. You liked Shawn that much, you could just watch TV with him. Damn. He was getting to you.

_____________

Friday night. You have no idea what to expect as you walk up to the firehouse. Shawn's truck is in the lot and so is Jeremy and Max's. Three meant that was the whole overnight crew. Had Shawn forgotten about your date? You open the side door of the firehouse and walk into the darkened garage toward the living area. It's quiet, no one around and you can feel your heart sink.

“Hey, you're early,” Shawn says, appearing from a doorway to your right. “I was just coming to meet you outside.”

“Oh, are we leaving? Aren't you on the night shift?”

Shawn chuckles and rubs the back of his neck. His shirt strains across his chest and you can't help but bite your lip. “I am on the night shift. I hoped we could stay in and have our date here?”

“Here? But aren't the guys here?”

“They're asleep in the bunks upstairs. I promise we won't be bothered.”

“And what are we doing?”

“Well,” Shawn steps back through the doorway and you follow him. He leads you into the small station kitchen and you can see all the basics for baking laid out on the counter tops. “I thought maybe we could bake together. Or more of you teach me how to bake.”

You grin. A baking date might just be the best thing you'd ever heard of. Shawn was truly a man after your heart. You circle around the center island and touch the bag of flour, chocolate chips, sugar and mini cupcake liners. “So do you want cupcakes or muffins?”

Shawn walks around to meet you and he's holding two aprons in his hand. “Muffins. They're my favorite cheat day food.”

You slide the apron on over your head and look down. It has a little muffin picture glued on to a felt heart. It's cute and you're pretty sure it's hand made. “Did you make this?” You giggle, smoothing your hand over the front of yourself.

“I did. I thought it was cute and you'd like it.” Shawn puts his apron on and his has a matching design. “Now, how bout those muffins?”

Shawn doesn't pay attention to half of what you say as you make the muffins. He tries so hard, he really does and you can tell. His focus is mostly on you, telling you how cute you are and how you're so good at this because you can do it without a recipe.

Every time you ask for him to measure something for you he asks what cup that is. You're pretty sure he has never baked a day in his life let alone used a measuring cup or measuring spoons. How he survived this long you'll never know.

“Shawn, have you not cooked before?” You ask with a giggle as you swat his hand away from the chocolate chips you're measuring.

“I cook all the time. I just don't bake. I don't measure anything other than rice or like liquids.” He leans against your back and tries to sneak his hand around to steal chips. He thinks he's slick. “Let me have some!”

“No!” You giggle and jerk the cup of chips away from his hand. You end up spilling them mostly in the bowl. “Oh you better stop.”

“Or what?” He asks against your ear. His voice sends shivers down your spine. “Are you gonna do something about it?”

“I won't make your muffins.”

Shawn's hands slide around your front and up your stomach. “Just one chocolate chip. Just a little tiny one.”

“Fine.” You grab exactly one chocolate chip and hold it up.

He leans over, pressing you into the counter with his chest and waist slotted firmly against your back. He closes his mouth around your fingers and takes the chip. “Thank you,” he murmurs against your ear, kissing it tenderly.

“You're welcome,” you whisper though you're very much alone in the kitchen with him.

Shawn pulls away, turning to grab the muffin tins off the island counter and the tension is broken just like that. He oils the pans just like you reminded him to earlier because the liners he bought were for a mini pan and he had a regular size pan. You can't help but watch as he carefully wipes each cup with an oiled paper towel, deliberately coating every inch of the metal. Something about him being so focused, so interested in baking, makes your heart flutter.

You turn your focus back to the batter. There was no time to be getting caught up in your feelings yet. This was only the second date. “Are you ready for the batter?”

“Yes ma'am,” Shawn grins, holding up his oiled pan. “Are you sure this is going to work?”

“Yes,” you chuckle. “I promise I won't make you eat muffins that are scraped out of the tin.”

“I mean I'd still enjoy them, but yeah it's a little easier when they're whole.”

“Okay, put them in the oven for twenty minutes and then we'll be set.”

Shawn carries the pan to the preheated oven and puts it in. “So, what do we want to do while these cook?” He grabs a handful of chocolate chips off the bowl on the counter and shoves it in his mouth. “We have movies.”

“You don't have a plan?”

“Well...ah...” He rubs his neck. “I suck at planning?”

“Obviously.” You walk towards him, hand raised to wipe a smear of chocolate chip on his lip. “You got some chocolate. Hold still.” You wipe it with your thumb but it just smears it. You can't help but stare at his soft pink plush looking lips. They're so kissable, so not chapped and ready for you to lean in and taste.

“Did you get it?”

“Quit talking.” You try again and it almost all comes off. “Hold still there's a little bit left.”

Shawn raises his arm and wipes it on his hand. “Better?”

“Worse!” You let out a laugh and he looks helpless. “I think you had some on your hand!”

“You're gonna have to lick it off.”

“Oh no I'm not.”

“Oh?” He steps closer, backing you against the island. “So you don't want to kiss me? That's not why you were staring at my lips, mouth parting, tongue peaking out to wet them...”

“Shut up.” You lean up and kiss him, licking the chocolate off his lip and smiling in the process. His lips were just as sweet and soft as you imagined.

Shawn brings his hand up to cup your cheek. “Knew you wanted to.”

“You talk too much.”

Shawn grins and presses his lips to yours once more. The kiss grows heated and intense. His hand find your hips, yours find his hair and back. You lick into his mouth and he responds just as eagerly.

You're so lost in each other that you don't hear someone walk in. You don't even know they're there until you hear, “In the kitchen? Come on.”

Shawn turns his head, eyeing the intruder. You look too, cheeks hot with embarrassment. In the doorway is Jeremy.

“I don't want to know. I just want a water bottle and one of whatever you're making when they're done.”

“Of course, yeah,” you say with a nervous little laugh.

Jeremy grabs his water and mutters something about damn kids these days. As soon as he's out of sight you raise your eyebrows at Shawn.

“They were asleep, I promise.” Shawn pleads. “I'm sorry I embarrassed you.”

“It's okay, I'm not that embarrassed. We were just kissing. But since he is up now, maybe we should keep it a little more low key?”

“Yeah,” Shawn chuckles. “I'll grab some cards if you're up for a few games?”

“Sure.”

The rest of the night you and Shawn play cards in the kitchen, eat muffins and just talk about all sorts of stuff. He asks about Brodie but you're not too keen on rehashing that past quite yet. You ask him about his parents and what they think of him becoming a firefighter and not taking over the farm. They're actually very proud of him and never expected him to work the farm if he wasn't interested. They were very supportive of him. The night winds down and you're stuffed with enough muffins and decaf coffee to gain a few pounds. Shawn offers to take you home and you accept, taking one last muffin for the road.

________________

“So what's new?” You ask Cait as you walk around your room looking for something to wear on another date with Shawn this coming weekend. He had stopped by the deli on Monday and asked you to go to the beach with him.

“Oh not much, just bedridden and seriously fat,” Cait laughs.

“Oh quit it. You're not fat. The baby is probably fat.”

“You're right on that one. Adam is a big guy, I'd be shocked if this baby was less than seven or eight pounds.”

“So you're due any day huh?”

Cait shuffles around and you're pretty sure she drop the phone for a second. “Any day now. I insisted on not being admitted early because of the bills. I'm beginning to regret that though. This little bugger is killing my back.”

“I bet. Have you picked a name yet?”

“Not yet. We're torn between Nathaniel and Andrew.”

You put your phone on speaker and grab a dress out of your closet. It's a nice simple black A-line. Maybe not too beachy. “Why not use one as a middle name?”

“I'm using dad's name for his middle name. Besides, I'm partial on Nathaniel. It works best with dad's name.”

“You're right. Definitely go with Nathaniel.”

“Duely noted. What about you? How has things been with the firefighter guy?”

You smile to yourself. Was perfect enough of a descriptor? An absolute dream? No. You sound crazy. Shawn was nice and good but he wasn't quite prince charming. Yet. “It's going really well. We have another date this weekend.”

“I Facebook stalked him, he seems like a real genuine guy. What does he like?”

“He likes books and food. I know he likes working out and he definitely has a soft spot for dogs I think. Every time Mr. Peter's walks his dog by the deli, Shawn stares like he wants to pet him so badly.”

Cait laughs. “If he pets that dog he will lose a hand! Remember when it chased us home from the park one time?”

“Oh my God I forgot about that. Damn that dog is old as hell.”

“Probably a real hellhound if you ask me.”

“Cait! Be nice.”

Cait scoffs. You can practically hear her rolling her eyes. “Anyway, Shawn sounds like a good guy. I hope he works out for you, God knows you need it.”

“Are you saying I'm hopeless?”

“Your usual taste in men could be better.”

You roll your eyes as you reach for your next dress in the closet. Too fancy for the beach. Jeans and a tee were looking to be the best option right now.

“Are you still planning on coming to the hospital with me?” Cait asks after a few seconds of silence.

“Of course. Mike knows when I get the text from you that I need to go.”

“Awesome. I can't wait to see you. I'm gonna hang up now though, I have to pee and I think I need a snack. Talk to you later, love you.”

“Love you too sis. Bye.”

_________________

It's just before midnight when you wake up to the smell of smoke. It's all too familiar and strikes a deep fear into you immediately. You jump out of bed and look around, there is no smoke in the house. For a split second you think it must be a nightmare, your brain playing tricks on you. Wouldn't be the first time.

You circle your house, taking a walk from your bedroom to the living room and ending in the kitchen. That's when you smell it again. The unmistakable smell of burning. It's coming from the open window in the kitchen. You turn and look to the front door, sure enough there are lights flashing, blurry from your curtains. The sound of sirens suddenly blaring in your ears.

You grab your robe and pull it on, heading for the front door to see what is on fire and where. The moment you step outside it's apparent where the smoke is coming from. One house down in your row of houses, there is black clouds billowing from the front window. The other neighbors are all in their front yards too and four of the firefighters are approaching the house.

One of the crew pulls away and starts jogging across the yards toward you. He pulls his helmet off and you see it's Shawn. In seconds he wraps his arms around you, the bulky gear rough against your exposed skin.

“Oh thank God it's not you.” He says desperately as he squeezes you tighter, face in your hair.

“What's going on? Of course I'm okay.”

“I saw the address and my stomach sank. I thought you were in danger, I thought I was going to lose you.” He pulls back and cups your face with his gloved hands. “But you're okay.”

You hold his arms and lean up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Yes I'm fine. Go do your job.”

Shawn looks back and two of the guys are walking out of the house carrying fire extinguishers. The owner, an elderly lady, is sitting in her lawn chair just shaking her head. “I think they've got it handled.”

You cup Shawn's cheek and he looks back to you. “Go. I'm fine.”

“Yeah...you're right. You're sure though? Are you feeling okay? I know the fire probably stresses you out.”

“I'm fine. The panic has passed. As much as I'd love to keep you as my emotional support firefighter, I'm sure Jeremy probably wants you with them.”

Shawn chuckles and kisses your cheek. “Tell your neighbors not to scare me half to death again. I dunno if my heart can take it.”

“I'll be sure to do that. Go on,” you shoo him away and he walks backwards, hand in yours until your arm is stretched out to just your fingertips touching.

“Good night,” Shawn says and you let your fingertips slip from his glove.

“Good night Shawn.” You grin and wrap your robe tight around yourself as you head inside to get some sleep.

________________

“Order up!” Mariel yells, passing you a sandwich to ring up.

You punch in the cost and turn to grab a bag of chips from the rack behind you. Your phone buzzes on the shelf under the counter and you spare a glance, obviously too busy to pick it up. It was probably just a telemarketer anyway. Or maybe Shawn making plans since your date the weekend before was amazing. You had taken him for sushi in Ashland and he loved it.

“Alright, that's ten dollars. Would like to add any extras today? A cookie or a drink?” you ask and the customer shakes his head and slides his card.

Your phone buzzes again and this time Mariel steps in and says you should answer it. You grab it and walk over to the side counter. The screen shows an unknown number and you roll your eyes before clicking answer. “Hello?”

“Oh thank God, it's Adam. I'm at the hospital with Cait. Something happened and I can't explain. She's okay but we need you here. She is freaking out.”

“Adam what happened? Is she in labor? What's going on?” You ask frantically, already pulling your apron off as you head for the front door. You glance back at Mariel and she just waves you off. “Adam, what is going on?”

“Cait fell, I don't know how. She called she was taken in an ambulance. They said she is okay but they're doing an ultrasound now. I have to hurry up, I'm using a pay phone outside and I'm out of change. We're at Berkin Ho-” The phone cuts off and the line beeps.

Your stomach churns. You have no idea how you're going to get to Berkin hospital. It's over half an hour drive and you're not really up for trying to find a car and drive there. You pull up the cab services number and as you hit dial, you see Shawn walk out of the firehouse and unlock his truck.

“Shawn,” you mutter desperately. You jog across the street and he looks up with a smile when he sees you. “Shawn, can you take me to Berkin Hospital? Please I'll give you anything you want, I'll owe you a thousand muffins. Please.”

“Whoa hey are you okay?” He asks, circling the front of the truck to hold your arms, eyes scanning you for injury. “What happened?”

“It's not me. It's my sister. She's pregnant...she fell or something I don't know,” you're sobbing, body shaking like a leaf. “Her husband called from a pay phone and he sounded scared and he said Cait is freaking out.”

Shawn pulls you into a quick hug. “Let's go, you need to be there.”

________________

By the time you get to the hospital Cait has just been taken in for a C-section. Adam is in the hall beyond the emergency waiting area and he comes out to explain what happened. He says that Cait said she was going to the kitchen for water when Boo, their cat, got under her feet and she fell backwards onto her butt. Her water broke and she called emergency services, and then him in the ambulance. The doctor recommended a C-section because he is afraid of something having happened in the fall, the baby getting jarred a little harshly, and he doesn't want to wait until Cait is fully dilated in the event there is injury. Cait agreed and decided to have a C-section now, but they're in prep and waiting for her doctor to show up.

You turn to Shawn as Adam walks back through the door to the emergency wing, intending for you to follow him. “You can go home. I'm okay, thanks for bringing me.”

“Can I stay? I really don't have anything going on at home and you look like you could use some company.”

“Uh yeah, sure. Come on.” You lead Shawn through the doors and into the small room where Adam is sitting. “Hey, Adam. Do you mind if Shawn stays?”

Adam looks up from his phone. His eyes are red, he's been crying and you can just now see it in the bright lights of the sterile room. “No, that's fine. He's your boyfriend right? Cait told me you were seeing someone.”

“Ah, yeah. He's my,” you glance over to Shawn and he's trying to hide a smile but failing. “He's my friend. We've gone out a few times. It's whatever.”

Adam looks between the two of you with a half smile. “Me and Cait were just friends too.”

“Shut up,” you murmur, shoving Adam. “Hey, I thought your phone was dead.”

Adam holds it up on a bright purple cord that attached to a wall charger. “One of the nurses got a cord from a lady up in the ICU for me.”

“Oh, that's good.” You look around the small room and lean against the wall awkwardly. There was only one guest chair and Adam was sitting in it.

Shawn picks up on the situation and clears his throat. “Anyone want some food? I can swing by the cafeteria while we wait.”

“No thanks man. I'm not hungry, too nervous,” Adam says and turns back to his phone.

You nod, knowing Shawn probably hasn't eaten in a while. “Yeah, I should eat something. I don't feel like it really but I haven't eaten since breakfast.”

Shawn puts his arm around you and leads you into the hall. “I know my way around here pretty well, and I have a discount at the cafeteria.”

“Yeah? Work brings you here?”

“Not always,” Shawn chuckles. “Not always.”

________________

Shawn tells you to get whatever you want as he stands in line at the hot bar. You look around at the selection on the soup and salad bar and decide to just get a small salad and crackers. You meet up with Shawn at the register and he has a tray loaded with food. He shows some sort of ID badge and the cashier scans it before he pays.

“So firefighters get a discount here?” You ask as you dress your salad. “Or are you just special?”

Shawn chuckles. “All emergency service personnel gets a discount here. But I am special too.”

You roll your eyes. “Special huh?”

“Yeah, I was admitted here as a kid. I spent like three weeks in the ICU while they figured out what was wrong with me. Turned out my appendix had attached itself to my muscle tissue and was inflamed to nearly ten times it's size.”

“Holy shit, are you okay?”

Shawn chuckles over a bite of his chicken sandwich. “Yeah of course. The appendix is pointless anyway, but it was hell for the doctors to get it off the muscle wall without it bursting. I've got a scar now but it's not too bad.”

“Damn. You're lucky then I guess.”

“Very lucky. Wanna see the scar?” Shawn stands up and tugs his shirt up for you to see. It's pale pink, about the length of your index finger and right along the V of his hip to his lower stomach. “It's faded a lot now.”

“That's big. Did they take any of the muscle with it?”

Shawn plops back down and sticks some fries in his mouth, shaking his head. “Nah. The doctor was really good. But anyway, how about you? Any crazy medical stories?”

“No,” you laugh softly. “I was a healthy non reckless kid.”

“That's no fun. No broken bones? Toys stuck where they shouldn't be?”

“No, oh my God. My dad kept an eye on me and so did Cait.” You push your salad around on the plate, momentarily lost in thought. “Cait is gonna be a good mom.”

“Yeah?”

You nod. “Mmhmm. I'm glad her and Adam finally got pregnant. They've been trying for ages. She deserves it y'know? After all we've been through, she deserves a happy ending.”

Shawn bumps his water bottle against yours and you look up from where you've spaced out, staring into the depths of your salad bowl. “You deserve it too. Don't forget that.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “Yeah I guess so.”

________________

You and Shawn talk a little longer, mostly about family stuff and some crazy childhood stories. Most of his make you wonder how he's even alive still, but you conclude he must just be extremely lucky. Adam texts you and says the doctors are taking Cait to a room to recover and he gives you the floor and room number. You and Shawn wrap up and head for the elevators to get upstairs. Cait would want to see you no doubt.

“So do they know what the gender is yet?” Shawn asks as he leans forward, holding the door open for a nurse who was jogging to catch it.

“Yeah, it's a boy. I just hope they settled on a name.”

“Shawn?” The nurse asks as the doors close softly.

“Uh yeah?” Shawn tilts his head, looking her over as if trying to figure out how she knew his name.

“Darcy, from the emergency responders luncheon two years ago?” The nurse says, grinning.

Shawn shakes his head. “I'm sorry, I don't recall. Did we sit together or...”

“Oh. Uh, yeah. Sort of.”

You give Shawn a look and he just kinda deadpans.

“I'm really sorry. I must have been out of it.”

Darcy scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Yeah obviously. You'd had a few but I didn't think you were smashed enough to forget me.”

Shawn turns scarlet. His eyes go wide and you have a feeling he remembers exactly who Darcy is now. He remains silent until her floor dings and she gets off, leaving you with Shawn alone in an awkward silence.

“She sounded upset. What was that about?”

“Listen, I was a jerk a few years ago. Brand new firefighter with cockiness to spare. Believe me. I was a douchebag. She probably should have slapped me.”

You let out a low whistle as the doors open on your floor and the two of you step out. “So I should be careful huh?”

“I grew up. I promise.”

“Mmhmm.”

You get to Cait's room and she is overjoyed to see you. The baby is sleeping on her chest, so small and fragile, only five pounds she says. His name is Nathaniel. You introduce Shawn and explain that he brought you to the hospital, and he's the one that you'd told her about on the phone. Cait plays it off like she didn't recognize him immediately from her Facebook creeping. After a while of visiting you get to hold the baby while Cait rests.

Shawn looks like he's going to die when you glance over to where he's sitting in one of the guest chairs. He just stares at you while you're cuddling this little tiny bundle of baby and blankets in your arms.

“Do you want to hold him?” You grin and he looks terrified.

“I don't know. I probably shouldn't.”

You stand and walk over to where Shawn is sitting and you carefully pass Nathaniel to him. He cuddles him against his chest awkwardly, arms huge in comparison. “It's not too hard. See, he fits right in your arm there.”

“He's so small.” Shawn boops the baby's nose. “I always wanted kids one day. But when they're this tiny I'm nervous I'll break them.”

“They're more resilient than you might think.”

Shawn pets back Nathaniel's little bit of sparse dark hair. He looks so soft, so natural holding a baby like this. It makes you smile, and gives you a strange butterfly like feeling in your stomach. Shawn with kids is a little too much for you to dream of but you'd be damned if you weren't.

“You're still here?” Cait asks sleepily from the bed.

“Yeah, Adam is on his way back now. I figured we would stay until he got here.”

As if on cue, Adam walks in with Cait's over night bag. You help Shawn put Nathaniel into his bassinet and give Cait a hug. You say your goodbyes and promise to visit as soon as she's is home and feeling up to visitors. Shawn drives you home, leaving you with a chaste kiss and plans to meet up after work tomorrow evening.

________________

It is just after four in the afternoon a week later and you sit outside the deli waiting for Shawn to get off work. You check your phone, scrolling through social media and chatting with some people who messaged you. Before you know it half an hour has passed and still Shawn hasn't come out of the firehouse. You don't want to seem like that annoying girl but he made plans and wasn't even replying to your texts.

You cross the street and knock on the door. No answer. You try the handle and it's locked. They must be out on a call. You feel kinda bad now, not even thinking about the possibility of him actually working late. You had just gotten used to them not getting called out very much recently.

You decide to walk home, maybe stop by the minimart on the way to grab some snacks. There was no telling when Shawn would be available or if he would even feel like hanging out after a call. It's fine, you would just talk to him tomorrow.

The minimart bell dings and you raise a hand in greeting to Mae, the old woman behind the counter. She greets you with a smile. You grab a few things, a small pint of chocolate ice cream, a Snickers bar and a bag of chips.

“Bad day?” Mae asks, ringing up your purchases.

“No, just wanted a few snacks.” You glance over at her little tv that is showing a newscast from a reporter in a field. There is a massive blaze behind him and he keeps glancing back warily.

“That's sad isn't it?” Mae asks, looking back at the TV. “They said the drivers of both vehicles are dead and the explosion hurt some of the emergency responders trying to get them out.”

Your stomach sinks. Shawn was probably out there. “Oh my God. What happened? Where is it at?”

“Tanker truck hit an SUV I think. It's just off route 45 to Benton I think. Probably a truck coming to fill up the tanks at the Phillips station.”

“I-I have to go.” You leave your items on the counter and take off running for the deli.

The door clatters loudly as you rush in the deli and up to the counter. The few people in the dining area give you worried looks as you lean over the counter.

Mariel comes out of the back area and sees you, her face falling immediately. “What's wrong? What happened?”

“There's an explosion and a crash on 45. I need your keys I need to get there now. Shawn could be there.”

Mariel digs in her apron pocket and hands you her keys. “Be careful.”

Ten agonizing minutes later and you pull Mariel's little blue car over off the side of the highway and leave it in favor of walking the last few hundred feet. The tanker is still on fire, both fire engines are parked off to the side, no hydrants are available for water this far out on the highway. You look around for any of the firefighters, desperate to find out if Shawn is there.

“Ma'am, you can't be here!” An officer yells as you walk past the news crews who are waiting for more details.

You ignore him, your sights set on a group of firemen standing by an ambulance. Your heart is pounding, none of them look tall enough to be Shawn.

Another officer cuts you of, holding up their hand to stop you from getting at closer. “Ma'am you need to go back to your car. No bystanders are allowed near the wreck.”

“I'm not going to the wreck I'm going to the ambulance over there,” you say, pointing to the ambulance that's getting ready to leave.

“No you're not. You need to leave.”

“Sir you don't understand, I need to-”

The officer steps forward as you start to try and pass him. “Ma'am, I'm not going to tell you again. Go back to you vehicle and leave.”

“Jeremy! Ryan!” You shout and the officer says something but you can't hear him. He grabs your arm and starts dragging you away. “JEREMY! JEREMY!”

Jeremy turns around and sees you being pulled away by the officer. He comes walking over, calling the officer off as he approaches. “What are you doing here? This is a dangerous situation.”

“Where is Shawn? Is he here? I saw on the news that some people got hurt trying to rescue the drivers.”

“Shawn will be okay. I need you to leave. I'll call you as soon as I can with more information.”

“Oh my God,” you start trembling, stomach churning. “Ohmygod he's in the ambulance isn't he?”

Jeremy puts his hand on your arm and you lean against him. He pulls you into a hug, hand on the back of your head as you let out a heavy sob. “He will be fine. He's strong, he knows the dangers of his job. Please, you need to go home. There is nothing here for you.”

You don't go home. You go to the hospital and wait in the ER lobby for two hours. Two agonizing hours. The receptionist won't tell you anything, she doesn't know anything actually. She says she will let you know when he is allowed visitors. You text Mariel that you have the car and you're at Birkin Hospital. She says she walked home and it's fine that she understands.

You're curled up across two hard seats, half asleep when the receptionist says that Shawn is allowed to have visitors. You grab your purse and push through the automatic doors as they open slowly to the ER rooms. You turn down the hall to room 042 and push the door open and your heart stops.

Shawn is asleep, chest rising and falling softly. He has an oxygen tube in his nose and he's hooked up two a few monitors and an IV drip. He's in a white hospital gown. His face is mostly clean, a few remnants of blood and what looks like mud on his chin. You just stare, tears burning your eyes and spilling over your cheeks. You take a shaky step forward and grab a couple paper towels and wet them in the small wash sink to the right of his bed.

“Jesus Christ what were they doing for two hours?” You wipe at his face, clearing off a smudge of blood from his cheek. It's then you notice his arm is in a white plaster cast and there is tape and gauze sticking out from under the collar of his gown.

The door opens and a nurse walks in. “Oh, hello. I'm Shona. I'm the nurse on rounds for tonight.”

You introduce yourself, lying that you're his fiance just in case she doesn't release any information to you. You watch as she administers a syringe of something into his IV drip. “What is that?”

“Morphine. He's going to be hurting when he wakes up.”

“What happened? I mean, what took two hours? I know what happened, like the accident.”

Shona grabs a chart on the wall beside the bed and flips it up. “Fractured arm, multiple lacerations to the chest and stomach. Bruised ribs.” She scans down the chart. “Looks like he was on oxygen and being monitored for smoke inhalation and potential internal bleeding for a few hours. The bleeding was negative. That's what took so long it seems.”

“Jesus Christ Shawn.” You ball the paper towel up in your hand and take a seat in the guest chair.

“If you need anything or if he wakes up, let me know. Just press the nurse button and I'll come see how he's doing.”

You nod and Shona leaves the room. You don't care how long it is, you're going to stay until he wakes up.

Jeremy shows up a little while later. He talks to the nurse, getting a run down of Shawn's condition. The two of you talk briefly and and says to text him when Shawn wakes up. Let him know if he wants visitors or if he's going to be admitted. You promise that you'll keep him updated.

________________

“What're you doing here?”

You sit up from where you've passed out across the two hard plastic chairs. It's almost midnight according to the clock on the wall. On the bed Shawn is sitting up right, well, propped more upright with the help of the bed.

“You're awake!”

“Yeah. I just woke up, what happened? Why are you here?”

You stand and go over to the side of the bed. He grabs your hand and holds it in his. “I'm not entirely sure what happened. I think the tanker exploded and you must have been knocked back? You're pretty beat up.”

“Fuck.” Shawn closes his eyes and licks his lip. “I knew I shouldn't have gone into try and help the truck driver. He was already fucking gone.”

“Shawn, it's okay. You were doing your job.”

“I was being an idiot. I know better than to try and go into a situation like that. I could have died.”

You lay your hand on his cheek and turn his face to look at you. “You didn't die. You're fine, a little rough, but you're fine. Stop beating yourself up.”

“What are you doing here?” He asks, eyes tearing up. “You should be at home, sleeping and angry I stood you up. Why are you sitting in a crappy ER room with me?”

“I'm here because I saw the news and I just knew something had happened. I don't know how, but I knew you were hurt and I had to get to you.” You wipe a tear away with your thumb. “I’ve been here since they brought you in. Jeremy came by but he didn't want to hang out too long. I gotta let him know you're awake.”

“How did you know they brought me here?”

“I followed the ambulance. Shawn, I drove to the accident because I was freaking out. I almost got arrested for resisting an officer just to get closer to find out where you were.”

Shawn's eyes widen. “You are the craziest woman I know.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“God I love you.”

“Shawn, you better just stop talking. It sounds like the morphine is making you a little loopy.” You grab the bed remote and press the nurse button. You pull your hand from Shawn's and he pouts, eyeing you from across the room as Shona comes in and starts taking vitals and asking how he feels.

You excuse yourself to the hall so you can call Jeremy. Really it's because Shawn's words just gave you a heart attack and you're pretty sure if he kept talking you'd go into cardiac arrest.

________________

Six hours later and Shawn is released. Jeremy had stopped by with a change of clothes for him from the firehouse. You had tried to get him to call his parents, to let them know what happened, but he said he wasn't ready. The doctor said he shouldn't be left alone, that it would be best if you or someone stayed with him over night just in case but all his vitals were normal and other than bruising and the broken arm, he was in amazing condition. He was lucky.

The drive home is quiet. You swing by the 24 hour pharmacy on the way out of town to get the pain medication that the doctor prescribed. Shawn waits in the car. You grab some snacks and a couple of reusable hot/cold compresses. You're sure he will need them.

You help Shawn into the house and he insists on sleeping on the couch but you know that is not what he needs. You don't mind taking the couch for a few days or even weeks. However long Shawn needed to stay with you was okay. It takes a lot of convincing but he eventually agrees to sleep in your bed propped up.

“You don't have to do this,” he says for the dozenth time since you left the hospital. “I'll be alright.”

“Shawn, I'm not going to leave you at your place alone. The doctor said to monitor you and that's what I'm going to do.”

He's quiet, just like every time he tried to get you to leave him before. You don't know what he's getting at by telling you the same thing. You're also not sure, but it could be a side effect of the pain medicines making him a little loopy and forgetful. “You're amazing.”

You fluff a blanket out across his lap and shake your head. “You would do the same for me.”

“I would. A thousand times over I would.”

You lean forward to grab a pillow and he grabs your hand, stopping you halfway. You look down at his scraped up knuckles against your soft skin. “Yes?”

“Thank you.” He whispers, eyes finding yours. “I’m sorry I scared you and put you through this.”

You rub your thumb over the back of his hand. “You we're doing your job. I know what dangers come with being a fireman. I know what I signed up for.”

Shawn cracks a soft smile. His tired face looking far more gorgeous than it should right now. “You say that like we're a couple.” His eyes are glassy and you want to discuss relationships and feelings right now but somehow you know it's not going to do any good. His medicine was knocking him out and he was getting loose lipped. You don't feel right talking about something serious while he basically has no inhibitions.

“Get some rest,” you say, pulling your hand from his and cupping his cheek. “I'll be in the living room and you can just holler if you need anything.”

“Yes ma'am.” He hums and leans back against the pillows, eyes closed. You move around the room quietly, picking up a few things before leaving him be and by the time you finish he is passed out, soft snores filling the room. You give him one last look from the doorway and sigh softly. You were definitely gone for him and you don't mind one bit.

________________

The next few days Shawn's spends mostly in bed. He doesn't go out, just hangs out at your house while you go to work. The guys from the fire station stop by the deli and ask about him, you tell them he's doing alright. Which he is. He just seems a little shaken up still, like it's really hitting him that he could have died. Jeremy brought you his keys and spare clothes from the station to take home with you so he would have some things to wear.

It's Wednesday and you wake up stiff from sleeping on the couch again. It's your day off and you plan on trying to get Shawn to go visit the guys at the station. You sit up and Shawn is standing in the kitchen trying to break eggs into a bowl with one hand. He's getting visibly annoyed and you climb off the couch to go help.

“Shawn, let me do it,” you say softly as you approach him and see three shattered eggs in a bowl.

He sighs heavily, stepping aside to let you take over. “I hate this.”

“I know.” You fold the carton closed and turn the stove off. “We're going to go out for breakfast. You've been cooped up here for days, it's time to go out.”

Shawn grumbles. “I don't want to go out.”

“Too bad. You're becoming a grumpy old man. And you owe me a date.”

“I do,” he sighs softly. “Okay, you got me. I'll get dressed.”

Half an hour later and you are walking together along the beach and you're feeding him bites of a muffin. The two of you opted to get some blueberry muffins and coffee from the cafe to go.

“I'm really sorry,” he says as you head for the underside of the pier that was attached to the deck of the crab shack

“For what?”

“For putting you through this kind of stress. I was reckless and I got myself hurt.”

You finish off the bit of muffin in your hand and shake your head at him. “I mean, I know what risks a firefighter has to take. I know you're going to get hurt. I don't like it, and yeah, you were reckless and you could have died. But you didn't.”

“I don't even have anything to show for it. I didn't save the truck driver.”

“Hey,” you grab his hand and he threads his fingers through yours. “You have your life to show for it. I'm not angry at you, I'm not even disappointed. I'm glad you're alive and barely hurt.”

Shawn drops your hand and sits down in the sand. You sit beside him and the water washes up over your toes. “Why do you care so much about me?”

“Because I like you. You're an amazing guy and you're sweet. You're everything I've ever dreamed of in a guy. How could I not care?”

He shrugs. “I guess I've never felt that sort of thing from anyone I've dated. We hit it off so fast, I was actually really nervous I was going to fuck everything up.”

“Well you didn't.” You laugh and lay your head on his shoulder. “You actually did quite the opposite.”

“I did everything right?”

You nod.

He grabs your hand and plays with it. His knuckles are scrapped up, red and a little bruised. He measures your hand against his, palms together before bringing it up to kiss softly.

“Can I ask you something really cheesy?”

“Of course.”

“Do you believe in love at first sight?”

You laugh softly. Before you met him, you probably would have said no. But there was something about Shawn that changed everything for you. Something that made you feel like you couldn't get enough of him. Something that made you wanna go all in and not stop.

“I think I do.”

________________

Six months later

“Hey hot stuff,” Shawn purrs, hands on your waist pulling you back against him. “Is this my shirt?”

You let out a squeal and drop the spatula you are using to stir your scrambled eggs. “Yes it is. What are you doing scaring me like that?” You laugh, leaning your head back against him.

“Notice anything different?” He wiggles his fingers against your sides. You don't feel the familiar hard edge of his cast pushing against your skin.

“Your cast is gone!”

He turns you around and holds his hands up. The blue plaster cast is totally gone. You put your hand in his and he squeezes gently. “It's going to be weak for a while, but I have stretches and stuff to do to build the strength back up. The doc said my bones looks good and the muscles should bounce back in no time since I did the exercising with my fingers with the cast on.”

“I'm so happy. You'll be able to do more than just in house work at the station. I know between that and hanging around here you were getting a little stir crazy.”

Shawn grabs your hips and lifts you up on the counter top so you're just a hair taller than him. He steps between your legs and bumps his nose against yours. “The only thing that makes me crazy is you.”

“Mmm,” you lean in for a kiss and he kisses you slow and drawn out for just a lingering moment. “This is very sexy and all, but you probably shouldn't be lifting me quite yet.” You lay your hand over his forearm and he makes a noise of protest as he bumps his nose against yours for another kiss. “I'm serious Shawn.”

“I know.” He pulls back, looking at you softly. “I got excited. I haven't been able to do what I want for a while.” He grips the swells of your hips and grins. “Couldn’t hold you like I wanted to.”

“Shawn,” you flush and he gives you bedroom eyes. “Later.” You reach over and pull your pan off the burner so your eggs don't over cook any more.

Shawn looks over and steps back so you can get down and finish making your breakfast. “I'm just saying, my station tee would look really good on the floor of the bedroom right now.”

You turn and point your spatula at him. “And I'm just saying, it sounds like you need to take a cold shower and calm that fire in your pants, hot stuff.”

Shawn just groans and turns away, going to the bathroom. You hear the shower come on and you just laugh, sitting down to eat your breakfast.

________________

“Are you still interested in the old antique shop next to the deli?” Shawn asks one day over lunch. You're sat together in the station dining room while the other guys nap in the bunks upstairs.

“Yeah, but I'm a little over a thousand dollars short. I might take out a loan or something. I really want to open the bakery. I'm so close but it's still so far.”

Shawn twirls a stir stick between his fingers. “I uh...I have a couple grand in my savings.”

“No.”

“Honey, I'd be an investor. Hell, I don't even know if I'll be able to come back to firefighting full time with my arm the way it is. I've got permanent screws in it. If I can make your dream come true, and possibly be a part of it, then that's everything I could ever want.”

You lay your hand over the scars on the back of his forearm and sigh softly. “You're making great progress. The doctor said the screws shouldn't stop you from doing your job.”

Shawn sighs. “It's just...what if I get hurt again? What if it's worse?”

“Shawn.” You turn his face up to look at you across the table. “Why did you take this job? Remember what you told me when I asked why you became a firefighter?”

“Because I wanted to help people.”

“That's right. And you're going to do that. You're going to save so many lives Shawn. I know you're anxious about returning to the job completely, but don't get into the mindset that it's not going to work. You can do anything.”

“You're right. I can. So I'm going to be a firefighter and I'm also going to be an investor in your bakery.”

You shake your head as you let out a laugh. “Shawn, no! I can get a loan.”

“Listen,” he covers your hands with his and lifts them up. “I always wanted to help people, that was my dream, and I'm doing something I love no matter how anxious I am about returning to it. You want to bake, you deserve to have your dreams come true as well. Let me be part of it, please?” He kisses your fingers gently.

“Fine. Just the thousand, I'll pick up the rest. It'll be enough to get the lease on the shop, supplies and pay the first two months utilities. I have all of dad's equipment in storage so we just have to install everything.”

Shawn grins big. “I know a couple of strong guys who would love to help out in exchange for some baked goods.” You giggle and he leans over the table to kiss you.

__________________

“The place is all set up with fairly new electrical and plumbing, everything is up to code for a food business or retail. What was it you wanted to put in here?” The realtor asks as she walks you and Shawn around the empty shop.

“A bakery.” You stand by a counter that could use some love but would work for the time being.

“Oh! Well the building was actually a bakery at one time so the outlets should definitely be up to code for food equipment.”

You turn and look at the realtor. Her name is Peggy. “I know. It was my dad's place.”

“Wow! Really? That's amazing. Does the landowner know that?”

“I'm not sure. Why?”

“Well, sometimes people are sentimental to family businesses. I can talk to him if you like, it's worth a shot.” Peggy lays down her folder on the counter. “I'll leave you with some of the information on the building. I'm sure you probably know most of it, but take a look at it and get back to me with an offer and I'll contact the owner.”

Shawn walks over from the windows and puts his arm around your waist. “Why didn't you tell me this was your dad's place? This is going to be amazing.”

“I know, I can't wait,” you beam, taking the folder off the counter and following Peggy out of the building.

_______________

You walk in the doors of the firehouse and the place is loud and bustling. The garage and living area have been turned into a party room. It's the annual fill the boot fundraiser, where the firefighters raise money to fill one of the boots from their gear to donate to a charity. It's an adult only event that goes over quite well with the town's residents. There is food, drinks, games and even a little something special. Every year a couple of the guys volunteer to play a game where they dress up in all of their gear and attendees pay set amounts for certain pieces of clothing and gear to come off. All proceeds from the game, food, and drinks go to “fill the boot” for the years charity. This is only your second year attending and Shawn said you had to come, that he'd be devastated if you didn't.

You're a little late, having worked an extra hour at the deli to help deep clean behind the counter. You had already promised you would or else you wouldn't have stayed. There is loud music, some catchy country band blaring over the speakers in the garage. Everyone is chatting and having a good time. You don't see Shawn right away, eyes scanning for the hard to miss giant.

“Grab a table, I'm gonna get drinks!” Mariel shouts from beside you over the music.

You no sooner get sat down then the DJ for the evening is announcing that they're going to have their next firefighter come out for the clothing bidding and that the goal is three hundred dollars. It's a steep amount, usually the guys go for a hundred or so.

“Again, that goal is three hundred dollars! And as always no touching the firefighters unless they allow it. Keep your hands in your pockets and your cash ready to donate!”

Shawn walks out of the office in his gear and you can't help the smile that spreads across your face. No wonder they were looking to raise so much. Shawn was the youngest on staff and by far the most attractive. Of course you're biased, but you see the way people stare at him when you go out. Honestly you can't blame them, but he is all yours.

Mariel sits next to you and slides you a Coke. “Is that your man?”

“Yes.” You lean back, folding your arms in amusement. You can't wait to see how fast his clothes come off.

The DJ starts the bidding with his helmet at twenty dollars. Usually it's a ten dollar item but not with this hot commodity. The helmet is gone instantly, a lady you recognize from the grocery store hands over a bill for it. Gloves fly off at twenty. Boots at thirty take a minute but someone takes one for the team to get the ball rolling. His jacket is next and you just chuckle at the crowd already getting excited.

Shawn looks to you and you just shake your head. He walks into the tables toward you and starts unbuttoning his jacket, opening it and cheering people on to donate the forty dollars to take it off. He winks at you, biting his lip. There is a taker as soon as he leans against the table of a group of college girls across from you.

The pants are next, it's just the fireproof ones but the way Shawn undoes them you'd think he was taking off his jeans already. People are getting rowdy, young ladies reaching for him. The pants donation goes fast. He returns to the front area where the DJ is calling out the next article of clothing. He is barefooted, standing up there in his blue jeans and tee shirt. Of course he has on one of his station shirts that is tight and shows off his body. The jerk. He was loving this.

Mariel lets out a whistle as the DJ calls for his shirt donation. A whopping fifty dollars. You roll your eyes and he grabs the edges, ready to pull off. A guy walks up and drops the donation into the DJ's hand. Shawn pulls the tee up and over, revealing a tank top underneath.

“Are you sure he's wasn't a stripper?” Mariel laughs.

“Nah, he's just cocky. He knows all these people want him.”

“He's just showing off for you.”

“Probably.”

The DJ announces his undershirt for fifty dollars. There's a hesitation in the crowd. It's a lot, and it's one of the top two with the best result physically. “Fifty dollars, for the elementary school to get new play equipment! Come on up, you know you want to see this hot piece of man take his shirt off. It's the best part of the evening- We got a taker!”

Mariel stands up and walks across the room with her money. “Take it off Mendes!”

Shawn throws his head back and laughs. He pulls the tank top off and the room goes apeshit. He crosses the room and hands his tank top to you and Mariel. “Too bad babe, you should have bid on my shirt. I'd have brought it to you too.”

“But I'm going to get it tonight anyway.”

Shawn leans forward and grins. “Yes you will.”

Up next is his pants and that's the last fifty dollars. It takes no time, the DJ doesn't even finish announcing it before three of the college girls come up, the money between them. Sure enough, Shawn undoes his button, zips them down and shucks them. He stands there in his dark red boxers while everyone cheers.

“That is it! Three hundred dollars and you Mr. Mendes are free to get dressed!”

“How much for the boxers?!” Someone yells and Shawn flushes. You laugh.

Shawn goes to the booth and says something inaudible. The DJ leans over to talk to Jeremy who's handling the donation totals.

“Four hundred dollars?” The DJ says quietly, but loud enough everyone can still hear on the speaker. The three men talk quietly for a moment and then Shawn steps back, walking with a smirk to the middle of the front area.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Shawn grins, hands on his hips. “For the remaining amount that we need to raise. For four hundred dollars, yes, four big ones, I will take off my boxers right here and right now.”

Your eyes go wide and you stand up. Shawn looks at you with the biggest shit eating grin on his face. You shake your head as he silently dares you to stop him.

“Do you take credit cards?” Someone yells jokingly.

Shawn saunters out into the crowd and glides his thumbs along his waistband. “No cards, only cold hard cash.”

You leave your seat and walk around to meet him. You lay your hand on his chest and walk him right back up to the front, eyes locked on his the whole time. He knew how to get you riled up. That was for sure.

“No touching ma'am!” The DJ calls out

Shawn raises his arm and waves him off, allowing it for you.

“You want me to donate it don't you?”

“I wanted to see if I could get a rise out of you.” He leans in and whispers, “It's working.”

“Do we have a donation?” The DJ asks and you look over to him. To the right you can see a table of people getting their money together. It's about to happen.

“You got your rise.” You glance down at his stomach and he chuckles.

“I did. Grab my wallet out of my jeans. There's a couple hundred in there for tonight.”

You step past him, grab his jeans and fish his wallet out. You march to the DJ booth and hand over the money.

“Ladies and gentlemen we have hit our goal!”

Shawn grabs the mic from the DJ and grins, “If you guys don't mind, I think I'll take my boxers off in front of the lady here in private.”

There's a sigh of disappointment from the crowd.

“Now now, I think she earned it since she is the sole donor.” He looks over at you and you roll your eyes. “And my beautiful girlfriend.”

An awe from the crowd erupts and they cheer as you help Shawn gather up his gear and clothes to take back into the office. The two of you squeeze into the tiny room and Shawn just laughs.

“You're such a little shit,” you laugh and shove his shoulder. “What if I didn't step up?”

“Then I guess I'd be flashing a room of people right now.”

You cross your arms and he steps close, hands on your hips.

“Honey, I'm teasing. I would have made the donation myself. You know I'm yours, I'm not going to show the goods off to the public.”

“There were enough eyes on you tonight. Thank God they can't touch you.”

“Hey,” he whispers, tilting your head to look at him. “I'm yours and you're mine remember? It's just for fun.”

“You're right,” you sigh and close your eyes. “I'm jealous over nothing. I'm sorry.”

He leans in and kisses you softly. “I forgive you. Now, you wanna see my dick?” he laughs.

“Not unless you're putting it to good use.” You smirk and he raises his eyebrows.

He growls and pulls your hips against his and gives you that look that could make you do just about anything. “I’ll have to take a rain check.”

________________

Three months later

The grand opening if Hot Stuff Bakery is easily one of the best days of your life. The owner of the building accepted your offer after the realtor told him your history with it. You ended up getting it for quite a bit less than you planned so you actually had a little left over to do some extra renovation to the front end.

You and your friends and family are all standing around talking, everyone is enjoying your dipping bread and muffins. The whole town has come out to see your shop and reminisce on the days when your dad owned the place. Many say it has the same charm and for that you couldn't be more proud.

“Hey,” Shawn comes around with a little white to go box in his hand. “I made you something.”

“Yeah?” You giggle, grabbing his box and opening it to find a little white frosted cupcake. It's a perfect spiral, just how you'd showed him.

“I made it at home while you were here last night. I even made a strawberry filling. But there is another surprise in there too.”

You raise your eyebrows. Mr. Fancy over here was really trying to win your heart. As if he didn't already have it. “Oh yeah?”

“Mmmhmm.”

You go over to the refrigerator case and pull out a chocolate iced cupcake. “Well, see the funny thing is, I also made you a special cupcake.”

“What? No way.”

“Yes.” You laugh as you set it down in front of him. “I'm appalled you stole my idea.”

Shawn rolls his eyes and smiles. “I guess we’re like meant to be together or something.”

“Yep. Now, rock paper scissors to see who gets surprised first?” You hold your fist up over your hand and he does the same. Three quick rounds and he emerges the victor. “Ugh! I don't wanna go first.”

“Too bad.” Shawn places the cupcake in your hand.

You dig your thumbs into the side of it. “I gotta see this filling.” You look up at him and he's just grinning. You pull the soft cake apart and out oozes some very delicious looking strawberry jam but also something hard. You pick it out of the sticky filling and realize exactly what it is. A wedding ring.

“Will you marry me?” Shawn asks taking the ring and wiping it on his jeans.

Your jaw drops. You turn and grab his cupcake. “I think your answer is in here.”

Shawn frowns, confused about your reaction. He takes the cake and opens it like you had. There is no filling in his, and a little tiny toy baby falls out onto the counter. “I... don't understand. How is this my answer?”

“What is it?”

“A toy baby? I don't get it, am I supposed to-” His eyes widen and you can literally see his brain working. “You're pregnant?!”

“Two months!” You blurt out and everyone looks at the two of you.

Shawn drops down, hands shaking on your waist. He presses his forehead against your stomach and lets out a little cry of joy and kisses you. He stands back up, hands all over your sides and stomach. “I'm going to be a dad... I'm going to be a dad! I'm going to get married!”

Ryan and Jeremy start the congratulations, clapping loudly and everyone joins in. “You always said you were gonna marry her one day!” Jeremy laughs and you look over and back to Shawn.

“You really said that to them?” you laugh and he wraps his arms around you and spins you around.

“I did. The first day I met you in the deli, I knew I had to marry you someday.” He sets you down and cups your face. “I can't wait to be your husband, and a dad.”

“Me neither.” You grin and he bumps his nose against yours. “I love you.”

“I love you too. To the moon and back.”

You close your eyes and smile. “To the moon and back.”

End

______________________________________

Thank you so much for reading! Please tell me everything you thought, felt, or things you wanna know! I appreciate every ask and reblog I receive. Please please please leave feedback via ask, reply, message or reblog!

Thank you again. Without amazing readers I’d never have kept writing.

-A

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