#like don’t get me wrong. it’s definitely better than spending 8 hours in an office and 2 hours in the car every day. by far.

[ghostzzy]

like truly even when i’m the most well-medicated i’ve ever been, work popping in at random intervals throughout the day with a variety of ‘urgent’ tasks or ‘corrections’ with minimal instruction or unclear intent and a rude tone uhhh Really does a number on me

[blissfulparker]

Wipeout⇔ Surfer!Dad!tom

Parings: surfer!dad!tom x surfer!reader

Summary; You and Tom spend your whole relationship in the water. Surfing under the summer sun and competing in summers biggest surf competition. To a surpise, you and Tom take on the biggest challenge nature could throw at you. A baby.

Wc: 9k

Warnings: mentions of insecurities durning pregnancy, fluff

A/n: I know this isn’t a birthday themed fic for Toms b-day but I hope you all enjoy! My little spin on a summer fic with dad!tom 🥰

June.

The summer breeze rose goosebumps to your skin. Your hands coming up to rub your arms as the water was only a bit colder today.

it was summer, the best part of the year when you lived with a beach in your backyard. Spending your whole life surfing you now prepared for the summer tournament that happened only weeks away from now. Surfers, fans, media come in from nearly all over the world just to compete.

To feel a wave under their boards and the adrenaline that rushes through your blood when you finally get on top. The same competition that lead you to Tom, Tom who was now your boyfriend of two years. At first, you laughed at the boy.

Pale, shy—yet so cocky and from London of all places. The most water they got is from the sky. You wanted to laugh with your friends for how confident he was acting, little rain boy wanted to have a chance in the big ocean and he did. To your shock, he scored better than you and scored to be in the top 10. Your laughs stopped after competition and maybe it was the slight momentary enemy thing or it was that deep blue bikini that made him find you after the games and get you out for a drink.

That drink was truly a shared basket of fish and chips as you talked more and more about each other. Pale, rainy London boy ended up being the best thing that ever happened to you.

“You wiped out twice!” He sits atop his board and your hands rub over your face.

“Maybe because I’m distracted!” You splash water in his direction. His toned abs always tanner during g this year and it was hard for the both of you to control yourself. “I’m just tired, stressed.” You shrugged it off truthfully.

“You fell asleep at 8:00 last night, grandma.” He teased and you rolled your eyes.

“Competition stress.” You point to him and he shrugs. If he’s honest, within the two years he’s known you, two years he’s loved and wondered where you had been all his life, he knew your stress. When you were stressed you oftentimes took long showers or wrote in your journal for hours on end but this time your stress was sleeping early/in late and a few times he’s caught you throwing up. All under the name of stress.

He didn’t push anything though, reminding you that he is there and you could tell him anything. But nonetheless, he left you be and just kissed your cheek and told you everything was okay.

“Race you to shore and whoever gets back inside first gets the leftover chicken from last night!” He starts to swim and you quickly flatten yourself on your board.

“What are we like five?” You call out but still push yourself to go faster. Pushing yourself to race him to shore.

Even though Toms board was definitely double his size, he still beat you into the house, already washed off and reheating the leftovers for lunch. After a morning swim you always had lunch before you went off to work where you would teach little kids how to surf. No matter what, you were always around the water.

“So I was checking the competition list this week, checking to see if there’s anyone new…” he trails off on a story. The two of you share the chicken and fries before you suddenly get a disgusted taste in your mouth. The chicken suddenly becomes sour in your mouth but you force yourself to swallow, Tom notices the change and he stops everything to make sure you’re okay.

“Darling, what is it?” He has a worried look but you shake your head.

“Nothing—it’s nothing. I-I just think this part of my chicken was a bit undercooked and it grossed me out. It’s nothing.” You smiled at him and he waited a second before continuing his story.

But that wasn’t the end of it, the next bite even more sour and this time you drop your fork and open the trash can to spit it out. The spitting then followed by spitting up all of your breakfast and lunch. Tom quickly coming to move any stray hair and rubbing your back as he tried to not throw up himself.

When you were done, he quickly closed the trash can lid and got you into the bathroom where he assembled the toothbrush for you.

“Peaches, I know that you told me not to worry but this is the third time this week.” He folded his arms as he leans against the wall.

“I’m fine.” You say through a mouth filled with toothpaste. Spitting into the sink and rinsing your mouth while also splashing some water over your face. When you look back up, just a bit, your eyes flicker to the untouched box of tampons.

One week late wasn’t so bad, one week late was just some built up stress and every women had been a week or two late before. But before tom can take notice in your distraction, you turn around to him who hands you a towel.

“But you’re not fine.” He argues a bit gently, not wanting to offend you.

“Tom, in school I would throw up during exam seasons all the time. It’s just stress okay? Better than losing hair or breaking out I guess.” You try and joke with him but he doesn’t exactly laugh. Just stares at you worried and you push back a few of his curls.

“Hey, look at me,” you tell him and his eyes meet yours. “I’m fine, seriously! Just a bit of stress and nothing the ocean water and you can’t fix.” You kiss his cheek and he finally smiles.

“Can you go see a doctor? For yourself and if not for yourself then for me, I want you to do good at competition and you know they won’t let you compete if you are sick in anyway.” He rubs up and down your sides and you sigh. Hating the doctors but you agree.

“Okay, okay. I’ll make an appointment but they will just tell me I just have butterflies.” You tell him and that’s when he grows a smirk.

“Aw, babe, I didn’t know after all these years I still gave you butterflies!” He teased and you rolled your eyes playfully nudging your body against him. Both leaving the bathroom, your eyes flicker over to the untouched box to tampons that just taunt you one last time before tom shuts the bathroom door. It was possible, you just didn’t want it to be possible just yet.

-

“I should’ve canceled, I should be there!” Tom speaks through the phone. You sat in an empty, cold doctors office waiting for blood results to get back.

Despite Toms over worrying, everything was fine. They couldn’t find anything physically wrong with you and agreed when you mentioned how it was just anxiety and nerves. Yet they still had to run a blood test to make sure it wasn’t anything they missed and couldn’t see with the naked eye.

Meanwhile tom had to be the most dramatic person out there. You always told him if he was not a surfer he would be an actor. It was impressive how every single night before bed he had a new condition to diagnose you with. Some so severe and outrageous you had to remind him that this wasn’t 1600s England and that you didn’t have the plague. That things were just from stress and if it was a stomach bug then let it run through.

Yet he would rant to you nearly every single night about how he’s always loved you and hated that this was the way to go. Always with that you would smack him with a pillow and tell him to go to sleep and with that he would kiss your cheek and hold you tight as he fell asleep.

“Tom, it’s fine. Seriously! They said they couldn’t find anything wrong, you’d be wasting your time to come here. The most you’d get out of this visit is maybe a sticker. Does Tommy want his girlfriend to bring him back a sticker?” You used a baby voice and you could practically hear him going red.

With a scoff he replies, “Ugh, no. What am I like five?” He pauses for a moment. “But what kind do they have? Were you able to check?” He asked in more of a quiet voice and you laugh.

“No clue. But the nurse told me the best thing I could do is just drink some tea and rest. Maybe they have some spiderman stickers or Sofia the first stickers.” You fiddle with the loose thread on your pants. Ending with a joke to calm both yours and Tom's nerves.

With a smirk, Tom Says, “you’ve been drinking some British tea for awhile—“ he jokes and you quickly cut him off.

“Tom!” You say and as if it was a sign, the nurse comes back in with a clipboard and a gentle smile. “Hey, I’ll call you back, the nurse has my results.”

“Wait! Before you go, ask them to check for tapeworms—“ before he could finish you hung up.

“He’s just dramatic.” You laughed a bit and the nurse laughed along before taking a seat across from you. She clicks her pen which makes you nervous for some reason.

“So your blood came back fine, everything is okay. I just have a few little things such as are you on any birth control?” She asked and you shook your head.

“Oh no, um...haven’t been for a while. But my boyfriend and I use protection and we’re safe. We only used planB once and that was a year ago.” You tell her but she looks up at you. Nodding as she purses her lips.

“Condoms only go so far sweetheart. We just have to ask patients who we find to be with a child incase of any birth control so we can remove it immediately, the birth control, I mean, remove that immediately.” With child. You were with a child. Pregnant. Your heart nearly falls out of your chest and the nurse says a few more things but they don’t register.

“Y-You mean there’s a baby inside of me?” You don’t know what color you look right now but you would assume pale, or green with the feeling of vomiting and this time not from slightly uncooked raw leftover chicken.

“Yup, about one month along it looks! We still will want to run more tests and…” she talks more and more but you don’t listen. Your brain foggy, you don’t know if you’re going to pass out or throw up or shit everywhere from how nervous you were. Hell, even all three seemed like an option as she talked. “So I’ll leave you to tell the important news?” She asked. This was apart of her regular day to day, she probably had hundreds of girls like you come in. Clueless and thinking of a stomach bug and then finding out they are pregnant.

“Y-Yeah.” You try to form a smile.

“Perfect, just meet me up at the desk whenever you’re ready. There’s a bathroom down the hall if you are feeling queasy and of course, help yourself to as many waters in the mini fridge in our waiting room. Congratulations!” She says before she turns out and all you hear is the door click shut. The white noise of the light and the taps of your fingernails against the cool metal bed.

You know it was professional and sweet of her to allow you space to call your significant other but you only stare at Tom's contact. Staring at the word ‘Tommy’ with almost all the heart emojis and his contact pictures of him with the biggest smile.

You have no guts to tell him right in the moment, but rather get off of the paper coated bed and grab your things to leave. Setting up a new appointment with your doctor to see more into the baby. Pregnant, with child, before competition. You and Tom were going to have a faimily.

July.

Tom still hadn’t known the news. It had only been a week but the guilt still ate you alive.

You didn’t want to worry or stress him. You yourself still tried to wrap your brain around it. A baby, every breath you took, every bite of food you ate, every drink you swallowed and every step you took there was a baby you shared it with.

You think about how every time tom had wrapped his arms around your waist this week he gently touched over the baby. Kissing your lying lips, you hated yourself for it.

As for competition, your mind nearly forgot. Still getting in the waters everyday with Tom but this time a bit more cautious. Everytime Tom worried for you, you quickly would cover his worry up with either a joke or kisses.

As for the throwing up, morning sickness was something that came in and out. You started hating the smell of bacon tom cooked in the morning but just waved it off. He noticed your decline in caffeine and beers and wines but you just told him the best athletes only had what’s best for their body before performing.

Tom believed all of it. Every single white lie you told—even though you hated yourself for telling them— believed them.

“How ya feeling?” Toms lips met your forehead as you cuddled up on the couch today. Extra tired and almost positive the baby was screaming at you for rest. You cuddled a bowl of popcorn and a water bottle.

“Mmh, just fine.” You give him a smile as his lips come down to meet yours.

Stealing some popcorn from the bowl, he heads over to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

“I’m thinking we do shrimp tonight?” He looked over and you made a face.

“Ew, no.” You shake your head and he gives a furrowed brow look.

“What? You love shrimp!” He responds and you feel yourself growing hot. Hiding deeper in the Blanket and not wanting to show your face.

“Well, I’m just not in the mood for it tonight.” That was another thing, lots and lots of emotions. Luckily Tom had plenty of emotions to match.

“Okay...tuna?” He offers and you shook your head. “Steak?” Once again and no. “Chicken?” No. “Okay, love, you’ve gotta help me out. I know you’re not feeling well but I’m helpless in here.” He says and your eyes start to water. He notices and immediately comes over.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he comes in front of the couch and crouches down to you. “What’s wrong?” He stroked your cheek and you shook your head.

“Nothing, it’s nothing.” You sniffle. “Seriously, I’ll help you. I’m thinking pasta.” You smiled and he did too.

“Yeah that’s not too bad.”

And so you two made and ate dinner completely normally. No tears from you, no sickness from you. Tom only talked about the waves out today and how much you would’ve loved it. Now you two spent time washing up.

“You think that one girl with red hair will be there like last year? She was so annoying.” You laughed as you got excited again for competition. Tom grew tense as you mentioned it. You noticed that. How he didn’t talk much about competition anymore. It went from the only thing you two talked about to now nothing. You knew how excited he was, the both of you were but suddenly it was like that excitement was put in a box to rest.

“Yeah...she was.” He kinda laughed but then just washed harder at the dish.

“Everything okay? You’ve kinda stopped talking about competition.” You put down your plate and that's when he took a deep breath.

“It’s nothing, I promise.” He tells you, pressing his lips into a lying smile that you knew.

“Baby, you can tell me anything you know. I’m always here for—“ and with that, he cut you off and told you the words you hated to hear.

“I-I took you out of the competition,” Tom sighed, dropping the dish rag on the counter in defeat. He watches as your face goes from annoyed to shock. Anger builds behind the eyes he find peace in. “It was wrong me me to do so—“

“damn right it was wrong of you to do so!” You slam your hand on the counter. “W-why would you?”

“You were sick! You were so sick for so long and what was I going to let you do? just make yourself worse—“

“it was the stress! I told you it was the—“

The built up ignored tension between you both finally caused him to snap.

“Is your period being late stress too?” His words caused the room to be silent. You take a sharp breath as you stare at him with anger but not at him anymore, at the fear of your new life.

“I’m just late, it’s normal for a woman like me to be rhis stressed and late...” you trailed off and this time he had the red face.

“Bullshit. What happened at that doctors appointment.” He demanded. You didn’t say a word at first which only angered him more. “Damnit (y/n)—“

“I’m pregnant.” You finally cry out and he knew his thoughts could be true, he knew they had to be but the moment those words left your mouth his whole body froze. He went pale with fear and shock, his hand no longer gripping the counter out of anger but out of support in case he passes out. The tears that left your eyes were uncontrollable as you let out a sob, the first sob that snapped tom back into reality.

He didn’t think twice, his arms supportively wrap around you as he tells you sweet nothings to try and calm you and himself.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He mumbled into your hair. You swallowed hard as you pulled back, your face wet with tears and you sniffled. His thumbs come up to wipe away each tear and each trace of mascara.

“Because I wanted to be normal still! I wanted to compete, I wanted to surf! I can’t surf anymore tom, i'm going to be a mom and I won’t have time for surfing.” You sob more and he only pulls you back into his grasp.

“I’m so selfish and stupid to even think to compete but I just want to n-not—“ you can’t even spit it out anymore.

“Who said you can’t surf when you’re a mom?” He moved back to hold your face. You didn’t look at him, he wasn’t going to force you to either. This was your decisions right now, he just wanted to listen.

“When you’re a woman and a mother, everything is for your child. You will have time to surf because you’re a dad but no one wants a mom to do anything but take care of their kid and I’ll love this baby so much, I will, but don’t want to lose myself. I’m young, you’re young and you’re about to be the next big thing.” You punch his shoulder playfully trying to lighten things up. “I—i-W-we’ll—“ you start again and he shakes his head.

“Don’t even say it. Sweetheart, you’re having a baby, our baby. I will make sure you still surf, when it’s safe, Of course. I-I don’t even have the words right now, my heart is racing, feel it.” He placed your hand over his chest to feel his pounding heart. “You will be (y/n) Holland, the infamous surfer that beat Tom Holland twice last year and you will be the mother to our kid. Their badass mom.” He cracks a smile as his hand goes to your stomach.

A shared moment where he only touches the stomach as he learns about it. You look at him softly and he looks at you as if you were the entire world. As if he was a little kid at sea world for the first time, he looks at you with beauty and hope and a hint of thankfulness

“For a minute,” you speak again. “I thought you were completely calm about this.” You chuckle and he shakes his head.

“No, I actually think I’m going to throw up.” He held his breath for a moment before he moved to the trash can and emptied his worried stomach.

This time it was you rubbing his back and wiping his mouth. Maybe you wanted to roll your eyes at the Irony but you just knew he loved you.

Holland. He used the last name Holland on you for the first time you’d ever heard it. He said it so confidently as if you two were already married. Holland. You can get use to that.

-

Day of competition

there was this sort of shock in everyone’s face as they watched you walk in shorts and a tee. Joining the crowds of people instead of getting ready for the waves of water.

This year was no wetsuit with your board, slathering sunscreen on your face as you got ready but rather taking a seat in that sand just like everyone else. Carrying a baby no one knew about except you and Tom and a few friends and family.

Your body was warm with nerves, hundreds of cameras here usually captured the sea, interviewing the surfers afterwards. Although it was not like Hollywood, there was no TMZ or dailymail, but there was enough interest and news casters to tilt their heads for why they infamous (y/n) (y/l/n)—soon to be (y/n) Holland—took a seat with the friends and family. Cheering on from the sand.

“Hey.” Z snaps you out of your constant looking around, how your eyes never focused on one thing.

“Ease up a bit, babes, no one even knows.” She knew, you knew you had to explain to her when you were sitting out. Just as Tom explained to his brothers and the two of you both would explain to his mother after competition. For he knew the women would get so excited she would explode

“Right.” Was all you said as you started clapping with the rest of the crowd when the games begun. It would be a moment for them to get to tom, they always let the younger ones go first, you and Tom were in that fine middle where you had to wait just for the middle of the games.

“Do you want a boy or a girl?” Z asked with a hint of excitement to her voice. She kept it quite enough to where it was just you.

“I’m okay with either.” You didn’t ever care much for gender, although a girl would be nice to balance out the male testosterone you’re always around. “A girl would be nice though.” You smile at Z.

She gives a smile back, leans back on the towel as she soaks up the sun. “And Tom?” She asked and you shrugged.

He had talked about almost everything but a boy or girl, when you asked if he cared he told you,

“as long as they have two arms, two legs, a torso, a head, comes out of me with no trouble, then it’s a perfect surfing buddy.” You quote him exactly, smiling at his words from a few nights ago.

When he found out, his hands never left your stomach, even though you reminded him the baby was only the size of a grape. That well...it was just a bunch of cells forming up in the moment that couldn’t exactly kick for it had legs the size of your pinky nail. He still waited, he waited and waited, you didn’t even know what he was waiting for at one point for he would pause between his words at the baby or when he asked you a question he looked down at your stomach as if they would reply for you or before you.

“I know hes nervous as hell, but he’s so excited, I know it. The other day Harrison told me he cried when he told him. Tom, crying.” Z laughed a bit and you did too.

“If you think I’m the emotional one...turn on coco or inside out and see what happens to that man.” You chuckled as you turned your head back to the waters to watch tom with a smile on his face blow a kiss in your direction before getting on his board. Paddling out to the sea you watch him get ready to take the first wave, the crowd goes wild and your hand rests over your stomach.

This time, next year, you would sit on these sands with a smaller version of the two of you.

August.

Being early in your pregnancy but far enough to show was not as glamorous as people made it be.

Your shorts no longer fit, shirts started to get loose at the top and tight at the bottom and for the love of heaven you slept so much. Tom liked the idea of endless naps, somedays you wondered if he was the pregnant one instead of you. As he slouched around, ate just as many snacks as you and started to even complain about some of the same things you did.

Maybe it was the impact your moods had on him or the fact he stopped drinking caffeine since you no longer could have it and he didn’t know what his life was before morning coffee was with you. He was almost the same as you were durning the pregnancy.

“What are you doing?” Putting on a bikini for the first time since you told Tom. For the first time in about a month. You didn’t like the fit much anymore, the bloation you constantly had and the extra weight you now carried in your thighs, arms and breasts made you insecure. The top that used to fit perfect now had you grunting to tie. But you had to wear what you had to wear to get you in the water.

“I’m coming with you to the beach.” You say innocently and he shakes his head.

“You’re not picking up a board, you know that. Besides, the waters have been rough lately, there’s that storm coming in and one hard wave can hit you and I don’t want that to happen.” He exaggerates and you look at him with a dead stare.

“Tom, I haven’t touched the water in over a month, I’m pretty sure my skin cells are changing because of it.” You exaggerate as well and he comes up to you.

“Well, I’m not letting you in the water. It’s too dangerous.” He was serious, at first you thought he was just being dramatic, he was still going to let you swim but he was 100% serious.

“Tom, you’re kidding.” You scoff a bit and he shakes his head.

“I’m sorry darling, I know a lot is happening—“ he starts and you move back.

“The doctor said I am healthy enough to be physically active and I—“ before you could finish he cut you off.

“The doctor said you could do some squats, leg workouts, lift a 5lb weight, that was the type of exercise he said. The waters are too dangerous, please don’t argue with me.” He pleads but your emotions get the best of you. Anger starting to build and your body heating up.

Tom had learnt one thing so far; don’t upset the pregnant women and that’s exactly what he did.

“You’re telling me to not argue with you when you are the one holding me hostage in my own home? God, Tom, I have a life still too! A month ago you said you understood what it was going to take and now you’re treating me the way I specifically asked not to! I’m getting in the water, I haven’t been in the water for months it feels like and that’s all I know—“ your rant continues but Tom isn’t looking at you anymore. He’s looking at your side view in the mirror.

Your bump is showing, the bump he swore he could kinda feel but not see was now showing. Almost like it grew overnight.

“Fuck, Tom! Look at me while I’m—“ you start to yell again but he steps closer.

“Look.” He stares at the mirror and comes closer to your bump.

“Oh my…” you see exactly what he’s seeing. The small curve outwards that is your swollen stomach. Your bump.

“May I?” He asked and your mood went from angry to overfilled with happiness. Your eyes starting to tear ss you nodded.

“Tom, it’s your child too, you can touch.” You told him and he did. Your hand even went to your stomach as you rubbed over the bump that was barely forming.

“It’s like it happened overnight.” He laughed a bit and you did too.

“I swear it wasn’t there last night when I got out of the shower. I swear.” You let a few tears fall and he peppers soft kisses.

“I’m sorry.” He gently stroked at the stomach and you sniffled.

“I’m sorry too. I know you just want what’s best for us but I’m just…” you sniffle some more not being able to finish.

“I know baby, I know.” He gets up and wraps his arms around your back. Pulling you in for a hug for you to cry on his chest. So emotional over everything but he was right there. Right there with you.

“We can call the doctor about you surfing, we can call him right now if you want. But I just can’t lose you.” He gives a smile and you nod as your lips meet with his.

“C-can you order the chicken from the place I like?” You finally regain your composure and he nods.

“Of course, anything else?” He looks down at the stomach and you shake your head.

“No, not for now.” You smile down at the small bump forming. “Wait!” You stop him as he’s leaving to grab the phone. He turns to face a guilty looking you, “and mozzarella sticks.” You rub your stomach and he nods. With a faint smile he goes,

“always.” As that was your constant craving. Leaving you in the room for a moment and coming back to see you dressed back ins sweats and a tee shirt, Tom smiled and gladly cuddled up next to you, rubbing and talking to the bump about the future. Maybe you couldn’t surf, but you had Tom right by your side.

December.

Christmas cookies and sweetly salted popcorn occupied your side as you spent a snowy Christmas in London. No beach, no blazing sun even during the day, Tom took you home where you were now five months pregnant.

Heavily showing and to even think you wanted to go surfing months ago was laughable. You hated getting up to shower somedays for it was too much work.

“Darling, Angel, my pretty girl,” Tom sat next to you nervous with his next words. “I know you’re pregnant but there are only so many Christmas cookies.” He told you and you smacked his shoulder.

“Thomas, she’s pregnant! She’s allowed as many cookies as she wants besides there are more in the oven but pregnant women gets first pick as she is carrying my grandchild.” His mom immediately came to your defense. Taking so much good care of you while you were here, Tom doesn’t even think he got this much affection as a sick child.

“I wasn’t saying it’s a bad thing for her to eat cookies, I just want one!” Tom defended himself and you handed him a cookie and you felt your baby kick.

“See? They don't even want you stealing our cookies. I’m eating for two, I’m eating for your baby. You eat a lot by the way! Remember that summer you went through the whole fridge in a week? Yeah, now I’m eating for a tiny version of that! And myself! It’s hard out here for me and what did you do huh? Take two minutes!” You snatched the cookie back from him and rubbed your stomach. His brothers stifled a laugh and Tom grew red in embarrassment.

“I last longer than two minutes.” He says is a mumble.

Rolling your eyes, You rested your head on Toms shoulder and moved his hand over to the kicking stomach. “She says thank you.” You smile as you take a bite from the cookie.

“A she?” His mom perks up and the rest of the family does.

It was a mistake, you and Tom had a battle of the sexes. It seemed as if you didn’t want to know the gender right before your winter holiday. Or really the gender at all. The gender was available for you guys now but you both didn’t see it as a big deal. The baby’s room would be filled with ocean themed toys and a gentle blue wall Anyways. And besides, whatever they decide to be they would make the perfect surfing buddy. Although it was still fun to think of, You thought a girl and Tom swore a boy.

“No, mum, we still don’t know I promise. (Y/n) is just messing around.” He swore and the family relaxed again.

“He’s right, I am just joking. Tom is probably right with his assumption, thinking it may be a boy. With all this moving and eating, just like Tom.” You poke his cheek and Tom again flusters in embarrassment.

“Hey, I have a fast metabolism.” He told you and you kissed his temple.

“I know baby, I’m just teasing you. My man knows how to stay fit and sexy.” You playfully rub his stomach and suddenly the stifled laughs from the boys turn into disgusted noises.

There was everything to indicate a boy, well, mostly just a gut feeling. Tom's mother described her pregnancy with Tom to you and it was nearly the same. A baby boy, you could see that. You would need another fridge and a lot more paper towels assuming the babe will be like Tom and eat yet spill everything. You liked the idea of a boy. Plus, Tom had been playing a stupid game where he asked the baby questions making it kick for an answer. When Tom asked if it was a boy or girl, it kicked the moment he said boy.

The ding of the kitchen timer went off, more cookies fresh out of the oven and Tom was quick to jump up.

“Let me help m’lady up.” He grabs your hands and you grunt as you stand up. You walk with Tom at your side and once you are alone eating more cookies in the kitchen your hand rubs over your stomach as you feel the baby kick in excitement.

“Off the topic of gender, I think they miss the ocean. They kick so much just when I sit in the bath like they are having fun in the water.” You mention water and you feel a kick. They couldn’t understand, but they could hear and a smile rose to yours and Tom's face.

“Then they’re just like their mama.” He leans in and kisses your cheek.

“Who knows, maybe once we get back I’ll get in the—“ before you can finish your sentence about surfing, a sharp kick to your bladder causes you to hunch over with a pained face. Tom worried as he held you panicked but you got back up with a deep breath.

“Nevermind, little one didn’t like that idea.” You hold onto his arms tightly.

“Everything okay? Just a bladder kick?” He panicked and you just nodded.

“Yup.” Your face scrunches up again. “Just the bladder.” You suddenly have the urge to pee. “Now shoo, I’ve got to pee.” You tell him and he looks at you in confusion.

“You just peed like—“ you give him a look making him think about how he’s finishing his sentence. “Right, my darling.” He moved out of your way to let you go. Snatching one more cookie from the tray, he smiled as he thought how next year at this exact time, you would be holding a little baby.

April.

One week. You were one week late and as any normal pregnant woman would be resting in bed and rubbing over her swollen belly and anticipating the child’s arrival. Although that was not what you were doing.

Against Tom's wishes, you went back to work to see the kids start up their surfing lessons. Although there would be no swimming for you, no waves for you just yet, seeing the kids happy to be there was something that sparked joy to your heart always. Helped ease your nerves and turn them into excitement.

“Mrs. (Y/l/n)-Holland, look what I learnt how to do!” One of the kids calls out. You had a smile for not only did they call you by both yours and Tom's name, but that they had always been excited to show you new things.

“That was amazing Ryder!” You clapped at the boy who did a handstand. He had a big smile with teeth missing. Your hand went over your stomach again, an aching pain that was noting but a false labor.

The doctor said it was fine. Women always experienced this right before birth and just take a deep breath but don’t waste your time rushing to the hospital just for them to send you home.

It was normal to be late and that you had a stressful year so it was okay. The doctor mentioned that you still felt contractions which meant you were close. But when it was Tom, every slight indicator of pain you felt meant a freak out where he rushed around the house to get the baby bag and try and get you in the car when in reality, you just had to pee. 

“T-That’s really cool.” You wince and the boys face goes from excitement to worry. Within the luck, Tom comes jogging from the parking lot with lunch for the two of you. Hoping to get in the water with the kids and keep an eye on you.

“Hey Angel.” He kissed your cheek but noticed your pain. “Everything okay?” He panicked and you nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, Ryder here was just showing me how he can do a handstand now—“ you can’t even finish as the pain was strong.

“(Y/n)?” Tom needed to be calm, your face scrunched up as you held your swollen stomach. “Darling, Angel, pretty girl, look at me.” He used all the pet names you liked and you looked up at him with worry in your eyes. “I think it’s time for us to meet the little one.” He nods with a trying smile and you feel an even sharper pain.

“Mmh, I can’t do this.” You breath heavily as you hold onto the stomach. “Yes you can, if you can surf a wave that is 12 feet with no wipeout then you can birth our baby.” He promised and also got the little boy who was so excited to show you his new moves a moment ago to run and get another adult.

“Tom, I-I can’t.” You felt yourself tearing up and he shakes his head. Your heart pounding and mind swarming with worried.

“You can, you will. You are the strongest women I—“ before he can start his motivational speech you cry out in pain.

“Get me in the goddamn car!” You cry and he nods and gets you up before anything worse. He rushes to the hospital as quick as he can, holding your hand and trying to not crash as you hold your stomach and scream.

When he gets to the hospital, he’s still in a wetsuit. They take immediate action into getting you into a room where you are laying with your legs up waiting for a doctor. Holding Tom's hand as you cry.

“Uh sir?” The doctor walks in and looks at the man in the wetsuit. “We’re going to have to ask you to put on scrubs...helps prevent any ourside clothing germs getting on the baby...are you wearing anything under that?” She asked and he immediately started unzipping.

“Jesus tom, not here, she wants you to get changed in the bathroom.” You shake your head as you run your hands over your face. In pain but want to laugh at your worried boyfriend for how he was acting in the moment.

“Right! Right!” He quickly changes from the wetsuit into the scrubs. The doctors look at him funny but let it go as you’re clearly in pain and needing the baby to be out.

“You got this love, you’re doing so good—“ he starts again but you don’t even want to hear it.

“was this really worth two minutes! I’m getting my fucking tubes tied!” You scream at him and he flushes a deep shade of red as one of the nurses giggles.

After one more big push you heard the sound of a cry filled the room. For just a second, all the pain you felt went away as you see the body of your baby, baby boy. You both were right, a beautiful little boy.

“A boy.” Tom breathes out in awe.

“Dad you wanna come cut the cord?” He looked at you for approval and you nodded. He cut the cord with shaky hands, couldn’t focus for the life of him as he just stared at the boy. You only got to hold him for a second before he’s taken off to a bath. Tom following them before they bring him back in a bundle of blankets.

“Oh my…” you hold the beautiful boy. His little lips open just a bit to make a sound while his eyes flutter to adjust to the light. “Look at him tom.” You feel yourself cry and Tom does too.

“Wow, look at you.” He touched the boy's cheek who immediately tried to take the finger into his mouth. “You did that.” He tells you as the two of you admire it.

“We did that.” You tell him and he smiles a bit. “Although yeah, it was mostly me.” The boy stares hard at Tom, Tom who was still in just swim trunks and scrubs.

“Hey, I ate a lot with you during this pregnancy. Even had my own morning sickness.” He teased and you only laughed.

The room going silent for a moment. Hearing the little cooes of your boy as you held him. Toms finger tracing over his cheek when you finally spoke, “Caspian.”

Tom had mentioned how he liked the name for a boy, more than once. It had connections to the water and to Europe so the child would have a bit of both. You had to admit to yourself that you liked it but just wanted to stick with a more casual name. But looking at how he looked at you the moment you said that name, you knew it was the one.

“Caspian?” He repeated and you nodded.

“Caspian Holland.” You told.

He smiled as he kissed your forehead. “Holland? Just that?” He asked as well and you nodded.

“Yeah, yeah just like that.” You smiled. A perfect moment in the perfect situation was interrupted by a small nurse who held a tee shirt.

“Uh sir?” The nurse looked at the two of you and both of your attentions were caught. “So unfortunately we have to ask you to wear a shirt, we got one from the lost and found for you hoping that it would fit.” The shirt read “I’m not as fun as mom” and Tom's face dropped. A proud smirk rises to your face as you look at Tom who’s flared his nostrils just a bit to show his embarrassment.

“Yeah Tom, put on the shirt.” You encouraged and he looked at you. His eyes telling you that you’re going to regret that but you can’t wait 15 years into the future to tell your son.

Sighing as he took the shirt from the poor nurse and sat back down on the chair in a huff.

“You’re never letting me live this one down are you?” Shaking your head you look back down at the boy,

“no, I don’t think we will.” You brought your dry cracked lips down to the boys forehead, you had no water within the past hour and screaming with crying seemed to make you as dead as possible. “Caspian. Caspian Holland.” He whispers again. “Thank you.” He looked at you and you furrowed your brows.

“For everything.” After months of no surfing, months of pain and aches, instead of saying anything back you looked at him and said

“sushi.” Was all you said and he furrowed his brows.

“W-what?” He questioned.

“I need sushi, please.” You sigh and he smiled. Months of being unable to eat any fish that was all you wanted in the moment.

“One California roll coming up.” He kissed your cheek and then the boy's cheek. Calling in the nurse, sending for a California roll and tuna.

Caspian was sleeping soundly in Tom's arms while you ate and rested. Everything was worth it, from the moment he stepped on a plane one summer to Hawaii he knew it was worth it for he found a family in the end.

June.

Once again the sand was squishing under your toes. Feeling each and every grain as you held your baby boy tightly bundled in blankets against your chest as you walked out to the beach. He was freshly bathed, you and Tom took turns. You were so eager the moment you were cleared to get back in the water after birth that the day the doctor cleared you for physical activity, you did it.

But tonight wasn’t you getting in the water, it was you greeting Tom and telling him to come back inside.

“Dinner is done.” You call out to him as he jogs back to the two of you. The baby boy cooing as he sees the ocean and his fathers dripping wet figure coming towards them.

“Hey, look who’s out.” He immediately leans in and kisses all over the pretty baby boy's face. “My sweet boy is so fresh and clean.”

You and Tom had argued about who he had looked more like,You or Tom. he had Tom's nose for sure and his big brown eyes that you knew were going to be trouble. If you had a hard time saying no to Tom when he batted his lashes and gave a glossy look, it was going to be impossible to say no to your beautiful boy.

“He just took a bath. But it wasn’t the ocean.” You smiled and Tom pressed a kiss to your face too.

“Mmh, did you?” He looks at the boy who was yawning in his mother’s arms. “Want to swim a bit?” He asked and you shook your head.

After birth, Tom did a lot of the work. He loved it too. He claimed you needed rest, in which you did, but you would often find him just sitting in the nursery staring at the baby boy. Telling him stories to sleep and kissing his face. He would let you surf, bathe, sleep, all while he took care of your beloved boy.

“No, I’m so tired I think if I use my legs any longer they will snap.” You give a pout and Tom immediately kisses it away.

Tom started to gather his stuff, the beach towel and the bag he normally carried and the moment he started to pack up your baby boy let out a wail.

Within the two months of his birth, you were able to identify each cry. When he was hungry it was more of a gurgle, when he was sleepy it was more strained and forced, when he craved touch it was a whimper sounding cry and then there was this. He was simply upset something did not go his way. May you or Tom stepped away for a moment, the bottle gone too early, but now it was his father packing up his stuff that makes him scream a cry that makes heads turn.

“What’s the matter bubs?” Tom pouts as he sets the stuff down and comes over to him.

Once the stuff is set down the cries settle just a bit, settle enough until tom takes him out of your arms and presses him up against his body.

Still wet from the surf, you both think the baby liked it. While Tom occupied little Caspian, you picked up the towels and his bag for him and once again the boy let out a wail cry which made you and Tom furrow your brows.

“I-I don’t know what it is. I-I changed him and I bathed him and he was perfectly fine and—“ you start to panic and as you panic you drop the stuff which calms his cries. Tom immediately took notice and grew a smile that made his heart flutter in his chest.

“(Y/n),” he stops you and you look up at him with a worried look as if you’ve done something wrong. “He wants to stay. He wants to stay on the beach.” Tom says in a calm voice and the boy was now only cooing in Tom's arms. He bounced gently but mostly cooed as his daddy smiled at him.

“H-He knows we’re leaving the beach.” You sigh and come over to the boys. Petting your sons head as he relaxes in his fathers arms.

“Like I’ve always said, just like his mama.” Tom smiled up at you and you caught his lips for a kiss. “Well…” you rub your hands on your thigh, wiping off the sand you got stuck all over your hands. “Since Caspian always gets his way, I better bring dinner out here.” You smile as you poke at the sweet boys face and Tom moves and has a serious face.

“(Y/n), no, you can’t just whip out your boob in front of—OW! I’m kidding!” You smacked his arm for the stupid comment he made that at first had you worried.

“I hate you. I’m bringing out the dinner.” You start to walk off and he smiles.

“You love us!” He shouts back.

“Just Caspian! You? Not much you. remember...you’re not as fun as mom!” You call out to him, sending him a wink and he wants to say something back but he holds his tounge.

Looking down at the baby boy he says, “when I teach you how to surf I need you to beat mums ass a few times while you’re out there. Just for her little comments.” Tom spoke to the boy and he cooes. “Atta boy.” With that he plots down on the sand towel.

Setting caspian down on the towel for just a moment so he can strip from his wetsuit and be closer to him. You come back out balancing the plates of food for you and Tom as you seat next to them and eat. Leaning your head on Toms shoulder and kissing at it.

You never knew that one competition, one amateur British boy and one shared basket of fish and chips could lead you to the best moments of your life. Could lead you to the best family you’ve ever had.

Please leave feedback! It helps me grow as a writer and lets me know what more you want to see!

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[deannaroxannewrites]

Tropetember Day 8 - 5+1 / 3+1

You're in my sickbay again...

Pairing: Leonard McCoy x GN!Reader

Fandom: Star Trek (I was writing it as AOS but pretty sure it works for TOS as well if that's your jam)

Rating: Teen and up

TW: Mentions of torture, mention of injuries

AN: Day 8 of @tropetember. Not a massively in depth fic, more like snapshots of situations that occur through the relationship.

3 times Dr McCoy didn't want to see you in his medbay and 1 time he did

Find this story on Ao3 here.

Word Count: 1.3k

1

While you hadn’t been expecting to be beamed directly into the quarantine suite in the Medbay of the USS Enterprise, after three months working with Captain James T for Trouble Kirk, it wasn’t totally surprising either.

Kirk had been invited to a celebration feast in a system you were exploring, but had only been allowed to bring one guest. As Chief Security Officer or CSO, you had been volunteered for the position.

You had done everything you could to keep the Captain away from anything questionable. Sadly, conversations with him usually went something along the lines of:

“Jim, no”

“Jim, yes”.

It was something you regularly discussed in your sessions with the ship's newly appointed counsellor.

Since quarantine procedures were only instigated when the transporter detected an anomaly in the crew members being transported, and assuming it was due to Jim, you just sigh to yourself and shake your head.

“I told you to watch him closely!”

The southern drawl didn’t soften the accusation, even deadened as it was by the plexiglass divider that separated Quarantine from the rest of the medbay.

“I did! I don’t understa…”

You trail off as you have a sudden realisation and groan.

“I found him with his tongue down the Princess’s throat.”

Dr McCoy gives a long suffering sigh.

“I’ll have to run tests on both of you. The transporter team couldn’t definitively tell if you both have it.” He pauses and looks you up and down. “I expected better of you Lieutenant Commander”

“Yeah, cos you’re so much better at this than I am. It was Orion herpes last time, wasn’t it?”

The CMO just smirks and tells you to stop pointing fingers before sauntering off towards the storage cupboard. You respond by flipping him off. And you maybe watch his ass a little.

Turning to the Captain, who has been uncharacteristically silent until this point, you channel your inner McCoy.

“Goddamnit Jim!”

Jim decides that you and Bones are spending too much time together.

2

When Scotty had called to warn Dr McCoy of an incoming victim of an explosion in engineering, he had not expected it to be you.

“You’re in my sickbay again sweetheart.”

He uses a sing-song tone that he doesn’t employ with the rest of the crew. Nurse Chapel, who is at the other side of the bed, takes note to check in with the Captain as to the state of the betting pool. She believes she may have lost.

You nod in response to the doctor’s enquiry. You’re in far too much pain to think of anything more complex than that in response.

“What were you even doing in Engineering?” he grumbles to himself, moving around in the space to grab hypos, bandages, burn salve and a dermal regenerator. “You’re almost as bad as Jim and Spock.”

You try to focus on him but you’re struggling to stay conscious. It’s not aided by the painkillers he dumps into your system.

McCoy gently moves you to be laying on the bed. He’s concerned at the extent of the damage done and the nerve trauma to your arm. To ease your pain, he hits you with a sedative and you’re out like a light.

-------

You groan as you come back to consciousness, the light of the medbay hurting your eyes.

“Welcome back darlin’” you hear.

Smiling despite yourself, you squint in Leonard’s direction.

“I was helping with the repairs on the lower decks. I assumed it was safer than an away mission. Apparently I was wrong.”

Surprised laughter bubbles from the grumpy doctor as he agrees.

“Well, get yourself rested up. I’m serious this time. I don’t want to see you back in my medbay.”

“Sure” you agree, both of you knowing it won’t last for long. Occupational hazard. “Dinner and a movie on Saturday if the mean Doctor lets me go?”

3

It made a change for a mission to go wrong due to something Spock did but in a culture that valued feelings as much more important than logic, it was not that surprising.

Most of the crew had made a successful escape but yourself and Dr McCoy had been taken hostage during the initial skirmish. You’d been thrown in a cell together and that had been that.

Or at least, so you’d thought.

You’d been dragged from the cell, questioned and beaten in front of McCoy in an attempt to find out details of the Enterprise and it’s crew. You hadn’t broken, but by the time you’d been rescued, you definitely had at least a couple of broken ribs, a black eye and various assorted cuts and bruises.

Len was quiet as he helped to repair your injuries. Where you were black and blue, his torture had been psychological. He couldn’t get your screams out of your head.

Noticing his distracted state you grasps his jaw gently, disguising the wince it bring when it pulls a little, and raise his eyes to yours.

“This isn’t your fault.”

His eyes dart away but you stay firm.

“I am trained for this, Len. I’d do it again to protect you. But you’re going to need to let the guilt go.”

He sighs heavily.

“I’ll try.” He pauses to run the regen unit over your upper arm. “You’ll need to do me a favour though.”

“Anything.”

“Go on a date with me?”

Mr Spock had been on his way to apologise for the consequences of his actions but is distracted by the fact that he has won the betting pool. He better inform the Captain and come back later.

1

You’re still not sure how it happened. As CSO, your main responsibility was the Captain and when things went wrong, his safety was paramount. You couldn’t check on everyone else. You just had to trust that your team was doing their job.

You hadn’t even realised Len had been hit until you landed on the transporter pad.

There had been so much blood.

Now, you were pacing outside the OR. It had been hours since the beam out when finally M’Benga pops his head out.

“He’ll be ok. He won’t be working for a few weeks but he’ll be ok.”

Your knees give out from under you and you land heavily on the chair behind you. Tears of relief escape without your permission and you drop your head into your hands.

M’Benga gives your shoulder a squeeze, letting you know where Len is being moved to and giving you permission to stay with him, before heading off to finish cleaning himself up.

You take a deep breath and approach Len’s bed. His larger than life presence is softened in sleep and you can’t help but notice how fragile he looks.

Taking his hand, you place a kiss on his knuckles and then rest your head against the mattress. After nearly 36hrs awake, you’re out like a light

-----

You wake to the feeling of fingers running through your hair which you automatically nuzzle into. It’s nice. Comforting.

It takes longer than you’d ever admit to orient yourself, but when you do, you raise yourself and meet Len’s eyes. He has a soft smile on his face that you can’t help but mirror.

“Sorry for dropping in, I know you didn’t want to see me in your medbay.” It’s a cheeky comment but it widens his smile into a grin. You pat yourself on the back for lightening the atmosphere.

“I’ll let you off this time.” His voice is a bit scratchy from lack of use but it sounds like the finest music to your ears. How could you have been so close to never hearing it again? He continues, “care to join me for dinner? I’m afraid there’s only jello.”

You laugh at the silly grump of a man in the hospital bed. Your best friend. Your favourite person. The love of your life.

“I’d love to.”

[erwinsvow]

𝐚𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

note: part two to the college headcanons! part one can be found here! i had a lot of fun writing these and i hope everyone enjoys them :) teacher/student dynamic warning for zeke and hange's, and i guess bullying for annie's :/

𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐨 𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐝

the very definition of kind-hearted frat boy who doesn’t fit the stereotype he’s been assigned at all

starts off with accounting before realizing he hates math, moves into business management and marketing

the linkedin profile is absolutely popping, 500+ connections and details about every club and organization he’s ever been a part of

the friend that helps everyone find internships and fixes their resumes while offering helpful advice and not being condescending… anyways so that’s how you meet porco

he works at the career center 100% and does various coaching/prep help, and you, pieck’s friend, are in desperate need of an internship

so you’re complaining to your friend as usual, when she tells you to stop by the building and ask for a “pock”

so you do just that, walking in and asking for “pock” and porco is a little stunned by this pretty stranger calling him by a nickname reserved for his close friends, and even then he just barely tolerates it

but he doesn’t want to correct you, especially since you’re being so sweet and he can tell you need some help

so a meeting at the career center slowly turns into facetime calls to review applications and last-minute edits, stopping by your dorm to help you fill out paperwork and walking together to mail it out

i have a feeling porco doesn’t wanna be too forward, and he thinks he’s being very aloof and casual, when he really just seems oblivious

and you cannot tell for the life of you if he likes you or he’s just being friendly since you’re close with pieck

finally after you land the internship and won't have your normal excuse to spend time with him, you get the guts you've been searching for

you tell him about the position later in the day, stopping by the center for hopefully the last time

"by the way, my number's on my resume if you're ever gonna ask me out."

leaves pocky-boy flustered and red and scrambling to ask you out, and you have been happily dating since

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

oh boy

conny is a very typical college kid in the sense that he will sleep through every 8 am class he has, blow off class to go wait in line for the nacho bar, and has adopted the mantra ‘c’s get degrees’

but he is an extremely lovable education major with a focus in history

rarely seen without his shadow sasha, but now that she started dating niccolo, she thinks that conny could use a relationship too, and that it might do him some good to be with a funny, down-to-earth person

thus begins the most grueling two weeks for every girl on campus, as sasha hunts down girls that she thinks would be a good match for her best friend

this includes airdropping a photo of conny to the lecture hall with the caption “would you date this man? serious inquiries only”

creates a fake tinder complete with a google form to narrow down the options

however, none of this is necessary because sasha bumps into you in the smoothie line and causes your triple berry blend to go flying

she helps you clean up and idle conversation leads to you talking about dates and so forth

“well, i’d love to set you up with my best friend? how do you feel about a blind date?”

yes, conny met you, the love of his life, on a blind date set up by sasha with a stranger

it’s one of those funny stories that people don’t believe when you tell them, because how ridiculous is that, but you both think it’s perfect since you get along so well and it made all the waiting worth it

bonus: double dates with sasha and niccolo! fondue night at their apartment, going to the arcade and having to lug up sasha and her food baby while niccolo parks the car, just overall a grand time :)

𝐳𝐞𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫

zeke yeager, ph.d. started his new job at university with one rule in mind: absolutely no illicit affairs

he also coaches the club baseball team, because why not get involved on your campus

he really believes that he’s gonna stick with it too, despite the overwhelming number of students who come to his office hours with questions that his less handsome teaching assistants could answer

but no, he doesn’t want to earn a reputation as that professor, and so he heads into the new semester with absolutely no lingering thoughts of an exciting little dalliance to get him through the monotonous days

he knows his huge lecture classes would always come with a few pretty students, but it’s the smaller, upper-level psych class he’s teaching when he meets you for the first time

zeke has you all figured out, or so he thinks. sitting in the front row, raising your hand for questions he wasn’t expecting anyone to actually have an answer to, neatly handwritten notes in a color-coded notebook. he wouldn’t peg you for the type to jump and take the risk by starting a relationship with a professor.

but he soon realizes that he didn’t have you as figured out as he thought he did.

you avoid the gaggle of freshmen during office hours by scheduling meetings instead, sometimes right before class, coming to him with two cups of coffee and a wide smile that actually had him fooled into thinking you were here for academic reasons

this facade quickly fades though, because after a semester of interactions with you and getting more and more comfortable with each other, to the point where coffee orders are memorized and it’s zeke rather than professor yeager, you’ve had just about enough

he knows he’s fucked when you come visit him at practice for the baseball team, bringing him a drink and engaging in conversation while the players watch their coach flirt with you

he’s especially fucked when he realizes he’s looking forward to practice just because there’s a chance you’ll stop by on your way to your next class

you submit your final paper early, nearly a week before it’s due and of course the first in the class to do so, and waltz into his office the next day with another steaming cup of his favorite drink

“you submitted your paper pretty early, you know.”

“i know. i also know that it means i’m not your student anymore, so if you were going to make a move, now’s the time.”

no, he definitely had underestimated how much he knew about you.

𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐚 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧

mikasa is a forensic sciences major and is still debating on the minor- she’s torn between criminal justice or history like armin.

she loves her major classes, but she just wants something else interesting to look forward to as well, so armin suggests sitting in on a couple classes early in the semester and getting a taste for it.

so you don’t really think twice when she claims the empty seat next to you on the first day of classes, smiling politely and paying attention to the professor. you do notice, however, that she’s not writing anything down or looking at the syllabus, leading you to strike a conversation on why that is.

she explains herself and then before you even know it, the lecture ends and you spent the last forty minutes talking to mikasa about anything and everything.

she’s sitting in on another class tomorrow, and absent mindedly invites you to come along, to which you agree all too quickly, because why wouldn’t you

numbers are exchanged, times are fixed, and mikasa leaves wondering why she’s so excited at the idea of sitting with you in class again.

you two hate the history class she had chosen, with the professor droning on and on and you being focused entirely on the conversation you’re having with mikasa

until the professor kicks the two of you out for not shutting up, that is

you’re both laughing hysterically once you reach the hallway

“i’m gonna have to discourage you from doing that history minor if that’s what all the classes are like.”

“well, i have to do criminal justice so we can have that class together, anyways.”

𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐭

true to form, annie goes into one of the most difficult majors: cheg. definitely flies through intro courses with straight As and minimal effort, but that’s also mostly because all she and bertholdt do is study

reiner tries his hardest to get her to go to a party every once in a while, but usually to no avail because she always has an exam to study for

you’re a tutor, and honestly, you’d say you were pretty good at your job. you can answer questions and explain reasonings fairly well to confused students. but when annie comes to your office hours with some complicated problems and she’s asking for explanations that you just don’t have, you literally feel your face burn with heat for the entirety of the time she’s there

long story short, your first encounter is embarrassing, to say the least. you’re stumbling over words as you try to look through your old notes and piece together an answer for annie, who you cannot even look in the eyes.

anyways, she leaves eventually and you want a hole to open in the ground and swallow you up, but at least she won’t be back next week, right?

wrong.

miss leonhart doesn’t know how to express her feelings any better than you, so her way of flirting is spending time with you in the tutor center as you fail to answer her questions time and time again

you want to scream at her to stop coming because she and you both know you’re not helping either of you with this

but also you really don’t want her to stop coming because you don’t have any other ways to see her outside of class

both of you reach your wit’s end on the same day, her coming to you with the absolute easiest problems she could find in the textbook, and you with every intention of asking her out to dinner

she opens her book, and you reach and close it quickly

“unless this is the only way you know how to flirt, something has to change now.”

𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐳𝐨𝐞

dr. zoë teaches, just, way too many classes

we’re talking multiple chemistry labs and upper-level research courses as well

you’re just a ph.d. student doing rotations as per usual, and you’ve heard the comments from students senior to you about dr. zoë, who makes every student in rotation say hange instead of the formal way you’re used to

you’ve heard everything from crazy to genius and everything in between

what you weren’t expecting was… so good looking, and young? and comforting? and talking about all the things that you didn’t have the guts to bring up with other people, like how you always feel a little left out in the field and that you think no one cares about your research interests that much—a lot of stuff that you find yourself pouring out to hange on your very first day in the lab

you’re wondering why it’s so easy to talk to them, and why none of the other rotations ever felt this comfortable

and then you realize you’re spilling your guts to someone who probably doesn’t even care, and has way more to deal with on their plate than a ph.d. student with imposter syndrome

so you’re apologizing right after you’ve finished, when you’re met with the warmest look and a reassuring hand on your shoulder

it’s so easy to fall after that, with weekly meetings and regular check-ins, and you know it’s wrong to have this strange crush on your superior, but hange really feels like the one person you can count on here

you hide the crush in favor of getting the mentorship you desperately think you need, but it’s not long until you’re onto the next rotation and the next lab’s work is even closer to the stuff you love

you hate the way you feel, that you’re not gonna have any reason to keep in touch and you never even got to explain how you feel about them—and that you didn’t even get to experience hange’s energy because she was always listening and helping you out

it’s not until you get a text the night before your first day in the new lab from hange, filled with reassuring words and asking for a coffee date later in the week to talk about how it goes, that you realize just how well hange understood you

𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

last but not least, miss pieck is double majoring in french and public health

absolutely obsessed with her majors and loves the subjects, but works herself to death to keep up with it all

you don’t even realize that the pretty, studious girl you’re seeing in the library all the time is the same girl you spot with some of your friends from class

pieck is as oblivious as they come. you invite her on study dates after you two are introduced by reiner, invite her to get coffee after a particularly late night of studying, pretty much start spending most of your days together

you can’t help but be disappointed that pieck doesn’t see you in that way, because you’ve slowly been falling head over heels, but you accept that maybe it just wasn’t meant to be, and you still love the friendship you two have

it takes a while for things to click for pieck, but they do right as the semester eases up

once exams are over, you two decide to go to these famous parties porco and reiner never stop talking about

it’s not the usual scene you’re comfortable with, but what’s wrong with letting loose a little, especially after midterms? no harm in having fun, right?

wrong again! you definitely get plastered way too quickly, and eventually pieck takes you to a room to settle down

drunk confessions of love aren’t usually the way to go, but you can’t help but reveal everything you’ve been feeling for the last few months when pieck is taking care of you in your current state

you definitely wake up hungover and ignorant to last night’s shenanigans, but you’re in your dorm, with a bottle of water and ibuprofen on the nightstand, phone plugged in and shoes off

pieck comes back with breakfast, coffee and your favorite pastries, and checks up on you

“so.. about last night..”

“i’m so sorry, did i throw up on you?”

“no, but you did say you were in love with me. was that just a drunk thing, or is it a sober thing too? because i think i’m in love with you too.”

[mischiefmanaged71]

Turning Tables (3/8) - Joaquin Torres x Reader

Summary: Y/N and Joaquin work together to track down the Flag Smashers, but yet again, she is the middle woman between Bucky and Sam as they butt heads. 

Author’s Note: Continuation of the story into Episode Two of TFATWS. Love the banter between Sam and Bucky, especially when Walker turns up and they team up to direct all of their anger at him. Joaquin is my man, my soft boi. I need more of him in the next two episodes, otherwise, I’m going to be a wreck for a while. Let me know in the comments if you’d like to be tagged! There will definitely be two more parts…who knows, maybe I’ll add more or individual one-shots!

Warnings: anxiety, the smallest drop of fluff

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x fem! Reader

You leaned back in your chair, feet crossed in front as Joaquin read through documents at his desk. Following up on leads was the top priority right now with the rise in communications of the revolutionaries’ known as the Flag Smashers. 

Word Count: 2.4K

Joaquin stood by his word and incorporated Sam and Y/N in the investigation. They had been at the Airbase for a total of 3 hours and 49 minutes, reading through documents and following up leads using the database resources. 

You rest your hands on your stomach as you shut your eyes for a moment. The bags under your eyes had become more noticeable in the past couple days, what with sleepless nights and long hours. All of which led you to grow closer to the coffee machine in your small apartment.

The nightmares had grown worse in the past week, haunting more than the occasional dream. Sometimes it was just the darkness that irked you, which you’d usually resolve with a bit of light. More recently, they formed into horrific events where you couldn’t save Sam or Bucky. The worst instance was last night’s terror.

This time, Joaquin showed up instead. 

Instead of the usual guilt that strung you up, an aching sorrow and horror overwhelmed you as you lost control. 

The fire was everywhere.

It burned until nothing was left.

Until the last edge of life was gone.

Even as you grasped for the tip of control to stop it, the flames extended further and further.

You couldn’t stop them,

And that terrified you.

It had its grip on your throat, ever-so-slowly compressing your windpipe as you clawed for the surface.

“Y/N?”

You inhaled sharply, opening your eyes to Joaquin’s concerned gaze as he leaned across the desk.

“You alright? You dozed off there.”

You nodded your head, slacking your jaw to recognise your feet touching the ground, the cabinets along the walls and lastly, the man sitting behind the desk.

His concerned gaze is glued to your widened eyes which scan the room, almost as if you weren’t completely aware.

“Yeah...I haven’t been getting much sleep is all.”

Joaquin nodded, returning to the words on the document,

“I’ve noticed. You’ve been a bit jittery the past couple days.”

“And...that’ll be the caffeine.”, you trailed, as you stood and stretched your limbs out.

“Don’t say what I think you’re going to say.”

Joaquin glanced up from the desk, shaking his head as a smirk grew on his face. The bruise under his left eye had slowly been healing from the past mission, along with a large cut along his forehead.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything.”

“Oh really? Then what’s the face for?”

“What face?”, he laughed and stared at you incredulously.

You leaned your hands against the back of the chair as pointed at him,

“That face that says I’m judging you.”

“This is not a judgemental face. This is the face of someone who is concerned about you.”

You’re quiet, allowing Joaquin to continue as you grip the back of the chair. Averting your eyes to the floor, your stomach plummets. Thumps palpate in your chest as your blood seems to pump harder.

“Are you okay?”, he asked.

You gulped down your anxiety, making eye contact with Joaquin so as to convince him and yourself as you spoke.

“...Yeah. I’m fine.”, you nodded your head and smile with the lack of enthusiasm that brings his attention to it. Joaquin cocks his head to the side, trying to see deeper into your mind.

“Y/N-”

The door bursts open as another uniformed soldier leans in the doorway.

“Lieutenant, I’ve got an update waiting for you, Sir.”

Joaquin stood from his seat, nodding his head at the officer.

“Alright, thanks, you can hand it over.”

The soldier nods his head, leaving the folder on the desk before shutting the door. You huff out a sigh at the tension and silence filling the office. Joaquin gathered up the remaining papers on the desk into neat piles, tidying the space.

“Look, it’s nothing I can’t handle. I’m electing not to sleep and I’m getting more work done.”

“You can’t live like this, Y/N, you’re gonna run yourself into the ground.”

“Yeah well right now, I’d rather not face those fears. Got bigger fish to fry right now.”, you purse your lips and nodded towards the folder.

You exit the office, wandering the first level of the base offices. Your arms press against the railing as you drop your head and listen to the bustling of people and machinery echo across the base. Slumped over the railing, you concentrate on counting your breaths as you hear Joaquin’s feet stomp closer to you.

Joaquin leans next to you on the border as you refuse to move, knowing that your façade of calm will chip as soon as you look at him.

“Y/N, if somethings bothering you, you should tell me. I know you feel that keeping it to yourself is better than admitting it but trust me, it’s a lot worse.”, he leaned down to meet your gaze as a stoic blank expression overcame you.

Your throat tightens and clench your jaw to suppress the sob building in your chest. 

You’ve always been alone with your thoughts, threatening to crack under the constant pressure behind your skull. The Avengers had been an unconventional setting but you created close relationships with a few of them. Some you lost along the way because of uncontrollable things but you wonder. 

You wonder if maybe something was wrong with you.

If it was your fault why they always left.

Why no one stuck around for long.

Tears glimmer, threatening to fall but you exhale a long breath out, turning to him. You twiddle your fingers, jaw clenched as you choke out the words in a whisper.

“...okay.”

Joaquin’s posture straightened as you stepped away from the railing and nodded your head in agreement.

“I’ll try. For you, Flyboy.”

He hummed and a small smile grew on his face at the nickname. 

“That’s all I ask.”

Looking over his shoulder, you recognise a familiar face. 

“Hey, Wilson.” you called over Joaquin’s shoulder, causing Sam’s eyes to flicker between the two of you.

“Hey, Y/L/N. I see you guys are spending extra time together…”, Sam implied with a smirk.

Y/N rolled her eyes at Sam’s implications, nudging his arm.

“It’s about time he kept me in the loop.”

He recognises the dark circles under your eyes and how tired you look but elects to ignore it. 

“You alright?”, Sam asks.

You look up at Joaquin as his lips twitch upwards in a small encouraging smile. His hand slides across the railing, hovering next to yours as you reply.

“I’m right where I need to be.”

You trail off as you notice Sam’s stiff posture and tension as he glides his hands into his pockets.

“How are you?”

After the huge declaration of America’s new ‘Captain America’, you were infuriated with the SHAM. Walker had done nothing to deserve that shield. 

It was Sam that Steve chose. 

It was Sam that deserved the shield.

You can only imagine how upset he is feeling. 

Sam almost shrugs, tilting his head as he doesn’t know how to express all of his feelings about the situation.

You all glance towards a screen as a poster of John Walker holding up Steve’s shield is shown.

“Seems like a good guy. You met him?”, Joaquin asks.

“No.”, Sam replied.

“Thanks for doing this on such short notice.”

“Yeah. No sweat. I’m just finishing up the checklist. You’ll be all good to go once you land in Munich.”

“I’ll be in the air with Joaquin so you can keep us updated…”

You trail off because your attention phases to Bucky Barnes’ entrance. With the fury in his step, you can practically visualise the daggers Bucky is sending towards Sam as you descend the stairs.

“Shouldn’t have given up the shield.”

“Good to see you too, Buck.”

“This is wrong.”, Bucky interjects.

Bucky follows Sam, cutting him off to interrogate. 

“Hey, hey, look, I’m working, all right? So all this outrage is gonna have to wait.”

Bucky narrows his eyes,

“You didn’t know that was gonna happen?”

Sam is aghast, “No, of course I didn’t know that was gonna happen. You think it didn’t break my heart to see them march him out there and call him the new Captain America?”

“Steve didn’t want this.”

“Oh, my God. What do you want me to do? Call America and tell ’em I changed my mind? Huh?”

Joaquin rests a hand on your shoulder, bringing your attention back to him,

“I’m gonna go ahead and set up before we leave.”

You nod, acknowledging him, gripping his hand,

“I’ll be right there.”, sending him a reassuring smile.

You watch as Sam and Bucky tussle in an argument over the shield and then the mission.

You find yourself striding up to them as Sam stomps off alone towards the plane.

“Hey stranger.”

Bucky turns around and his eyes light up in recognition. He flicks over your tired eyes and sombre expression.

“Sam didn’t know this would happen.”

“Well, he shouldn’t have given it up in the first place. It doesn’t belong there.”

“Bucky… I know how much that shield means to you... But you have to understand that Sam did what he thought was the right thing. We have to accept that. It’s what Steve wanted.”

“This is not what Steve would have wanted, Y/N.”

Bucky is fuming at the thought of the man parading as Captain America.

“I know, I know, Bucky. But we gotta work together to solve this one.”

“Just like always.”

He hummed, looking at the plane.

“Fine, but it doesn’t change the fact I’m mad at him.”

You sigh but agree because you know your boys are stubborn.

*****

You sit up on a crate as the plane flies below the drop-off zone for Sam and Bucky. You were sitting this one out to surveil with Joaquin from above.

“One minute to drop off, Sam.”

You watch Joaquin as he assesses the distance below and the time on his watch. The cuts and scrapes on his face have mostly healed but the blue and purple bruising under his eye remains. 

“So what’s our plan?”, Bucky asks Sam who ignores him as he positions his com in his ear.

“Great. So no plan.”

Bucky shakes his head in annoyance, sitting back down in his seat.

“Thirty seconds!”, Joaquin yells, looking out into the open air.

“I’m reconsidering sending those two out there alone.”

You glance anxiously between Sam and Bucky as the tension in the plane stirs.

“But they’re not alone, because they’re going together.”, Joaquin points out.

“That’s the part I’m worried about.”

You smile unconvincingly at Joaquin as you listen to the men bicker.

“Enjoy your ride, Buck.”

Bucky rejects Sam’s use of the nickname,

“No, you can’t call me that.”

“Why not? That’s what Steve called you.”

You roll your eyes at the childish banter between the two. You were considering the amount of logic and coordination between the two of them but then again, you were too tired to get on board for this mission.

“Steve knew me longer, and Steve had a plan.”

“Why couldn’t Steve be here?”, you whisper sarcastically.

“Fifteen seconds to drop.”

“I have a plan.”, Sam defends.

“Really? What is it?”

Sam ignores Bucky, jumping from the plane. Joaquin peeks his head out in amusement as Sam ignites his suit and flies off. He still wears that look of amaze on his face since the first time he saw the suit.

“Great. Where’s the chute?”, Bucky asked, looking around.

“We’re at 200 feet. It’s too low for a chute.”

“I don’t need it anyway.”

Joaquin perked an eyebrow, glancing at Bucky from the side, 

“You sure about that?”

“No! I know that look Bucky and I swear-”

“Yeah.”, Bucky sighs, yelling as he drops from the plane.

You and Joaquin both stare out into the open air as Bucky plummets into a tree, slowing his descent.

“What. An. Idiot.”, you exclaim from beside Joaquin.

“That looks like it hurts too.”

Pulling your sleeves down, you shiver and pull back from the open door to return to your seat. 

“He’ll be fine. I think.”

Joaquin slides the door shut as its seals with a hiss. 

You retract back into yourself as your thoughts return in the quiet.

Luckily, Joaquin is there to push them back.

“Hey, join me upstairs? I’ve gotta track activities for Sam from up here.”, he waits for your answer.

“Sure.”

He steps aside to let you walk up the steps first, sliding behind you as you reach the second floor. His hand ghosts over you back, guiding you across to the computers.

You flirt around the screens, leaning your hands against the metal frame. Joaquin’s hand roams around different radars and dials as he reads them. You watch from your spot as he concentrates, although, his eyes float up to check on you, every so often. You’ll pretend not to notice the suppressed smirk that threatens to rise on his face at your stare. 

You push that brewing anxiety aside but not without strain. Not without a little help from that pure and inviting calm that Joaquin brings.

***

TAGS:

@asoftie4bucky @remmysbounty @cjsinkythoughts @bubblegum28universe  @farfromjustordinary  @hocusbowie @alainabooks143 @marvelnerd18 @samscaptain @alexlynn16 @dontstahpmemeow @plllover86 @petewentzfrommcr80  @literallyjustfanfiction @captainbarness @parkjammys @the-and-sign-anon @nialeesato 

[let-it-raines]

I Hope We Never See October (8/12)

When his personal life and football career go up in flames, Killian Jones escapes England for America, finding seclusion in Martha’s Vineyard in order to hide from his demons. It’s a fresh start, or at the very least a paused moment in his life, and all he needs is a few months alone to allow his heart to heal. He doesn’t count on meeting Emma Swan.

Emma’s life depends on tourists who come to the island every summer. It’s how she makes her money working in restaurants and clubs across the vineyard, but every year, she cannot wait until autumn comes and her life returns to normal. She especially cannot wait for Killian Jones to leave.

Rating: Mature

a/n: Okay, so that cliffhanger, huh? I thought our mystery guests were obvious, but then again, I'm writing the story. But We'll answer all those questions here!

AO3: Beginning | Current Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

-/-

Killian’s side of the bed is cold when Emma’s alarm goes off. She expects him to still be there either sleeping or on his phone – he seems to do most of his work in the mornings when he doesn’t want to get out of bed – but he’s not there.

She hates herself a little bit for even noticing the cool feel of the sheets beneath her fingertips.

Emma groans and stretches her legs out, wondering how much time she has to go back to sleep before she absolutely has to go into work. She squints at her phone. She’s got two hours before she has to be at work. She could definitely sleep for another hour and a half and then look like shit at work. That might be nice, actually.

But then she smells something cooking downstairs, and almost on cue, her stomach growls.

Slowly, she gets out of bed, and the floor is cold against her bare feet. She should really go take a shower before she goes downstairs, and despite the good smell, she goes into the bathroom and quickly showers, leaving her hair dry. It’s curly and a bit frizzy from leaving it wet after her shower at the Nolans’ last night, but that’s a problem for another time…tomorrow. She’ll make it look better tomorrow. Emma grabs a pair of shorts and a button-down, putting them both on, and she pulls out a pair of sandals from her closet for later. She’s not as presentable as she should be, but maybe she can stay in her office and away from customers.

Besides, this is better than what it could have been had she not at least rinsed off the remaining sunscreen and sweat from her skin.

Emma smooths down her shirt and fluffs her hair. There’s the slightest bit of red on her chest from Killian’s beard, so she buttons up one more button before heading downstairs. From the smell of it, Killian is either cooking pancakes or waffles, and she’ll take either.

As far as her seasonal friends with benefits go, Killian is definitely the winner.

For the breakfast, the sex, and maybe the conversation. She thought about that for too long yesterday, and it’s too damn early for her to be thinking about any of this today. All she wants is food and coffee, so that’s all she’s thinking about. It’s all she can.

“Damn, Jones,” Emma shouts from the top of the stairs, “something smells delicious.”

She’s at the bottom of the stairs when she hears other voices. For one brief second, she thinks Killian is on the phone, but she’d know those voices anywhere. One haunts her nightmares, the other is the voice of her dreams, and neither was supposed to be here for three weeks.

Three fucking weeks.

Shit.

Holy shit.

What the hell has Neal done that he has to show up like this without even giving her any kind of heads up?

And how does she fix this? Killian was never supposed to know about Henry. He was the one question she’d never answer. He would have been her veto had it ever come up. When he got home from spending the summer with his dad in New York City, Emma was going to start phasing Killian out. They’d only ever spend time at his place, she’d never spend the night unless Henry was sleeping over at his friends. Usually, she doesn’t have this problem because the guy leaves way before this. He doesn’t have the chance to ever know about Henry, and Emma likes it that way.

The last guy that met Henry was Walsh, and that was only on accident. Or at least that’s what Walsh said, but Emma’s always thought Walsh showed up at the Blue Dog at that time on purpose because he knew Henry would be there with Emma. The guy never understood why Emma didn’t let him meet her son, but when you’ve never been able to trust a man besides David and possibly Graham with him, you have reservations.

His dad’s a full-blown asshole who has upended her life more than once, and she’s already so done with whatever bullshit excuse he’s got for bringing Henry home early.

Emma jumps in place, trying to breathe without really inhaling, and then she turns the corner into the kitchen.

The sight is as bad as she expected. The first person she sees is Killian, and if it were any other morning, this would be a good view to wake up to. His joggers hang low on his hips, he’s standing by the stove shirtless, and his hair is sticking in several directions from where her hands tugged on it last night. Then she sees Neal, who is standing in the corner with his arms crossed, frown on his face. He looks older since she saw him at the beginning of June. His beard is filled with more gray, his hair unruly in a purposeful way. He looks pissed, and Emma already knows this is about to be hell.

And then she sees Henry, and the tenseness fades from her shoulders when she sees his smile and the giant backpack he’s wearing. He’s got to empty that damn thing out.

God, she’s missed him so much.

“Mom!” he squeals, running toward her.

Emma opens her arms and embraces him, holding onto the back of his head and breathing him in. As much as Emma sometimes likes the freedom her summer affords her, she does miss her son. A lot. Him being gone is the entire reason she picks up shifts at The Oaks. She needs the distraction, not so much the money, until the summer is over and Henry comes back home for school.

“Hey, kid,” Emma laughs as she keeps hugging him. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too. Can I have the waffles?”

“What?”

He pulls back and grins. “The waffles Killian made. Can I have them?”

“Killian,” Emma slowly repeats. She looks over Henry’s head toward Killian who is furiously scratching behind his ear, and she realizes just how much he has a deer in the headlights look going on. As confused as she is right now, she knows he’s just had a few bombs dropped on him. “Uh, yeah, why don’t you and my friend Killian eat. I’m going to talk to your dad in the backyard for a minute. Neal.”

“What? I don’t get a hi?” Neal asks.

“Backyard. Now.”

He smiles, and once upon a time, she would have found that charming. Right now, she wants to slap it right off his face. Whatever he has to say, she knows it won’t be good. Emma closes the back door behind them and moves far enough across the deck to keep Henry from hearing.

“What the hell, Neal?”

The smile falls, and Emma crosses her arms over her chest. She has to put up a barrier with him. “Why are you so angry? Are you not excited to see Henry? He has been gone all summer, you know.”

“Of course I’m excited to see my kid. But I wasn’t supposed to see him three weeks from now. And with a head’s up. We have a schedule, Neal. Like, a court-mandated schedule that you made us get, and you’re not sticking to it.”

“That I made us get?” he scoffs. “What’s that supposed to mean? If I recall, you’re the one who kept my son from me for seven years and then didn’t want to give me custody.”

How is he such an ass? Seriously. How does he still not get it?

Emma steps closer and straightens her back. She doesn’t need to make herself taller, not for him, but she does anyway. “I got pregnant with Henry when I was sixteen. You were twenty-four. Do the math on how that’s wrong in about eighty-two different ways. And if I recall, and trust me I have a pretty good memory of this day, when I told you I had something important to tell you, you disappeared off the face of the planet. That doesn’t really seem like a guy who deserves to know about his kid.”

“Oh, come on, Ems. You can’t still be mad about that, can you?”

Is it still considered assault if Emma punches someone who deserves to be punched? There must be a law making that okay.

“Why are you here early, Neal?”

She doesn’t want to get into this with him. He’s never going to understand how much he fucked up Emma’s life. There’s no need for her to try to get him to understand now when all she wants is to know why he just showed up early.

“Who’s that guy in there?” he asks, evading her question.

“A friend.”

His mouth crinkles when he laughs, and she hates it. “A shirtless friend who fixes you breakfast? I hope you don’t make a habit of this when Henry’s home.”

“You don’t get a say on my dating life. Or my parenting skills. Now answer my question.”

He blows out air, and rolls his eyes, like she’s the one inconveniencing him. “Look, Tamara wants to go on vacation before summer ends, and she didn’t want to bring Henry with us. So I thought I’d bring him back to you and it wouldn’t be an issue. I’m sure you can keep him entertained until he goes back to school.”

“Oh my God. Oh my God, Neal, are you serious? You are breaking the rules of our custody agreement because you want to go on vacation with your girlfriend? How is it possible that you’re so selfish? I mean, God, seriously.”

Emma groans and buries her face in her hands before screaming. Or at least screaming as loud as she can without Henry knowing.

“Henry is a good fucking kid,” Emma continues, slowly breathing to calm herself down, “and he loves you. He doesn’t see all the shit I do because I’ve hidden that from him, but you can’t just do this, Neal. You can’t decide you’re done playing dad and give him back to me when you nearly made me go broke fighting to keep custody of the kid I’d raised since he was born. That’s not how being a parent works.”

“That’s rich coming from the woman who has used her time away from her kid to fuck British tourists and is upset her kid is back early because her vacation has to end.”

Emma looks up into the eyes of the man she once loved, the man who gave her son his eyes, and she says, “Go say goodbye to Henry and get the hell out of my house. I’ll see you next June, if you still decide to show up then.”

It’s a dismissal, and Neal never takes those. Not sitting down at least. She’s sure there will be arguments and petty jabs for the next few months. He’ll make her life hell while playing as the good guy. He has this act where he says things like “he’s a good person now, can’t she just move on from the past?”

There’s a difference between forgiveness and moving on that not a lot of people get. They say you have to forgive to move on, but that’s not true. You can move on without forgiveness because some people don’t deserve it. At all. Sometimes all you can do is stop letting them live in your head rent free, and you have to forgive yourself for ever falling for the lies.

Emma’s chosen that route. She’s forgiven herself, has moved on with her life even with Neal constantly trying to pull her back down, and she’s not about to stand here and let him criticize her personal life when he has no business in it.

Through the window, Emma watches Neal hug Henry goodbye. It takes less than a minute before he’s gone and Henry is back to eating his breakfast. Emma would laugh, she wants to at how ridiculous this all is, but she’s not finding anything about today funny. Because while Neal will go back to New York and will be happy, she’s stuck here cleaning up the mess he just made because she has to do everything in her power to make sure her kid never knows the version of his dad she knows.

A phone call would have been nice. At least then she could have gotten Killian out of the house. She still would have been pissed, but at the very least, she would have been able to make things a little better than they are now.

“Shit,” Emma breathes out, looking toward the sky. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Emma inhales and exhales several times before forcing a smile and walking inside where Henry is eating the breakfast that was meant for her and talking to Killian about soccer of all things.

Well, not of all things. Most of the time, Emma forgets that Killian plays professionally. Hell, they talked about it yesterday, and it still isn’t at the forefront of her mind. That part of his life has nothing to do with hers…except for right now when Killian is talking to her son about it.

He still doesn’t have on a damn shirt.

“Mom, did you know Killian used to play soccer? Like, as a job. That’s so cool! Do you think he could coach my team?”

“I did know that, kid.” Emma kisses his forehead, and he squirms away. It’ll take him a week or two to get used to her kind of affection versus Neal’s, so she’s not too offended. “How do you know that?”

“I recognize him.”

“Since when do you watch a lot of British soccer? Or football as Killian calls it.” She mimics Killian’s accent, but she also knows she did a terrible job with it.

Henry shrugs and stuffs a large bite of waffle in his mouth. “Dad doesn’t have anything to watch on TV but sports channels. All I did during the day was watch old soccer matches.”

“Wait. Where was your dad?”

Henry shrugs again. “I don’t know. At work I guess.”

Neal works from home most days of the week. What an ass. Emma bets he didn’t even get someone to watch Henry. He just used old sports reruns to keep him entertained.

“Hey, kid,” Emma says, finally looking to Killian, “can you stay in here and eat breakfast while I talk to Killian in the other room?”

“Sure.”

Emma flashes a tight smile and then nods her head toward the stairs. Killian gets the message and walks upstairs without being asked, immediately heading toward the bedroom. He stands by the window, arms crossed over his chest, and Emma watches his jaw tick, the smile he had on for Henry a moment ago, gone.

Softly, Emma closes the door behind her.

“I have my personal question of the day, Swan. You have a son?”

Okay, great, so this is how it’s going to be. Emma opens her dresser drawer and pulls out a shirt for Killian. He catches it after she tosses it and tugs it on. It doesn’t help as much as she’d like it to.

“Okay, look,” Emma begins, “you were never supposed to meet Henry. He wasn’t…his dad was supposed to have him for three more weeks.”

“The contract on my rental house has more time on it than that.”

Emma runs her hands through her hair and sighs. “I don’t know. I would have figured it out. Only go to your place, spend less time together. I mean, it’s only natural, right? Because you’re going to leave, and it would make sense for things to die down between us.”

Killian laughs, but Emma gets the sense he doesn’t find any of this funny. “Yeah, it makes perfect sense. This was only about sex, right?”

“Killian.”

“No, no.” He holds his hand up. “It’s fine, Swan. I get it. It’s my fault for thinking we might be mates on top of that.”

“I mean, we are – kind of, maybe. I don’t know.” Emma sighs and sits on the end of her bed. She doesn’t know what to do. Even more, she doesn’t know what to say. She definitely doesn’t know how to feel. “It was never supposed to be like this. I’m usually better at not blurring the lines. I don’t know what happened with us that made me drop my guard.”

“I knew you found me charming.”

Emma laughs and falls back on the mattress. “I have a kid, Killian, and he’s back. I can’t be like I was. We can’t just fuck whenever we want or stay out late or eat pizza at three in the morning. I’ve got to make sure Henry has a place to stay and Mary Margaret is across the country visiting her parents so that’s out for awhile. And I’m still working two jobs because I thought I had time to do that. I don’t, God, I don’t know what to do about anything in my life. Plus, you know, I want to spend time with Henry, and I don’t have a lot of free time.”

“I could watch him, love. He’s a bit older than what I’m used to with my nieces, but I’m sure I can find ways to entertain him.”

Emma sits up. Her heart is beating way too fast, and suddenly, the true reality of this situation hits her.

The man she’s been sleeping with has met her son.

And he’s offering to babysit.

What the actual hell?

She needs time to think. And scream. She definitely has to scream into her pillow for at least an hour because she literally cannot think of another thing to do. This is all too much, and she needs Killian to leave. He makes this all too complicated. She needs to go downstairs and eat breakfast with Henry. That she can do. That’s not complicated. That’s something she’s done every day for ten years, even if it’s usually Pop Tarts or a bowl of cereal, not homemade waffles and eggs.

“Can you, uh,” Emma starts, biting her lip, “can you go home? I need to spend time with Henry. He won’t show it, but I know he knows why his dad brought him home early. I’ve got some crap to deal with, but I’ll text you later.”

His eyes narrow, and Emma knows that look by now. He knows she’s lying, but she doesn’t expect him to call her out on her lie.

And he doesn’t because as quickly as his eyes narrow, they widen and a slight smile creeps onto his lips. “I’ll see you later, Swan. I’ll get my clothes out of the machine downstairs and go.”

“Thanks.”

Killian doesn’t move, and Emma has a hard time looking at him until she does. His eyes are so damn blue. It’s ridiculous.

But then he moves. Leaves, actually, just like she asked him to, and she hears every single step as he leaves the house and gets into his car. Emma breathes out a sigh of relief, maybe a little confusion, and then she grabs her phone of her bedside table.

Not a single warning text or call from Neal, just like she thought. Ass.

ES: SOS. My house. 10 minutes.

RL: Are you dead?

ES: Yes, I’m texting you from beyond.

RL: I am hungover. Give me 30.

Emma tosses her phone on her bed and heads downstairs. The life she was living is over. Henry’s home, and she is his mom. That’s what she has to do, and right now, that means putting her anger at Neal and confusion with Killian behind her to go eat breakfast with her kid.

She can only partially ignore that Killian was making this breakfast for her.

For them.

-/-

“King Harold,” Ruby says when she walks through the door in her pajamas and immediately sees Henry, “welcome back to your seaside palace. Come give me a hug.”

“Only if you never call me Harold again.”

“I can’t agree to that, Harold.”

Henry rolls his eyes, but he hugs Ruby anyway. “My name is Henry.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ruby kisses the top of his head. “You smell like waffles.”

“Killian made waffles for breakfast.”

“Killian did?” she asks, looking over Henry’s head toward Emma. Emma shrugs and cocks her head.

“Kid, why don’t you go unpack? When you’re finished, we’ll go to the beach before I have work.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.” Emma hums and nods at the stairs. “I told them I’d be late today. Get your bags and go.”

Henry quickly grabs his suitcases. They’re nearly bigger than him, but he manages to drag them up the stairs. Emma waits until she hears his bedroom door close, and then she moves to the kitchen and collapses on a barstool. Ruby fixes herself a plate of leftover food and starts eating. “I have eight thousand questions.”

Without lifting her head from the counter, Emma tries to answer at least half those questions. “Killian slept over and was making breakfast when Neal and Henry walked in, so they both met him, which went over as well as you’d expect. Neal didn’t tell me he was bringing Henry back early, but apparently his girlfriend got tired of having him around and wanted to go on vacation. Neal thought ambushing me was the best way to go about the situation, and then he got pissed about me having a guy over.”

Emma peaks up to see Ruby blinking. Slowly. Did she not process anything or is she just so hungover that it’s taking her a long time to figure out what to say?

“Was Neal charming or something when you guys were together?’

Emma laughs. “I was sixteen, and he paid attention to me. He might as well have been Prince Charming.”

“He’s the worst.” Ruby scrunches up her nose. “And you’re not a Prince Charming type of girl. I get more of a rebel vibe from you.”

“Yeah, because mom and restaurant manager means rebel.”

Rub leans over and pokes Emma’s nose. “I don’t think you know how badass you are, Emma Swan. Give me a minute to get some coffee and make more food because I definitely need to dissect everything that’s going on with you. Baby daddy and new boyfriend not included.”

“Not my boyfriend.”

“Oh, right. Just sex friend because you totally invite sex friends to parties at Marg’s place. That seems normal.”

Emma narrows her eyes. “I invited you here to help with a crisis. Not create a new one.”

“I’m just saying,” Ruby sighs, “Mr. Jones is a hell of a lot better than most of the guys you shack up with. Your unfortunate sperm donor included. I’d think about that if I were you. I mean, we both know you’re about to ghost him, but at least think about it, Emma.”

Yeah, maybe she will.

-/-

-/-

@qualitycoffeethings @marrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @elizabeethan @jrob64 @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @galadriel26 @galaxyzxstark @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @searchingwardrobes @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @onepunintendid @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @mariakov81 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @andiirivera @itsfabianadocarmo @captain-emmajones @ilovemesomekillianjones @taylrsversion @dramioneswan @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @gloriousfemaleworrier @spartanguard @snowbellewells

[all-the-love-harold]

Fine Line

Chapter 1 - Lovin’ you’s the antidote 

The First installment of my new series, let me know what you think about Harry and Clara

December 16th 2019

Clara was sitting on her window sill staring out at the rain falling down onto the street below her. People were battling with their umbrellas against the wind and she felt a sudden feeling of warmth as she stared into her living room, her best friend's new album playing through her TV and grateful that she wasn’t outside and that she didn’t have to leave her flat now until tomorrow morning she turned it up. The sound of Harry’s voice singing “Just let me adore you” echoed around the room and in that moment, she couldn’t help but feel lonely. Harry was still in LA after the release of his album and the rest of her friends were back in their hometowns for Christmas already. Normally she would call her boyfriend, but less than 2 hours after Harry boarded his plane to LA, Will called her and said that he wasn’t in love with her anymore and it was probably best that they stopped seeing each other. And just like that 8 years was over in one phone call and her shoulder to cry on was on a plane halfway over the atlantic.

Clara had met Will on her first day of university and they’d been together ever since but apparently his work had become too important and he didn’t have time for her anymore. She knew this was a load of bullshit, she knew that he’d been spending a lot of time with his assistant, who was very skinny and very blonde and everything that Clara hated about the world.

“You’re better off without him” Harry had said to her over the phone when he finally had the chance to call her back

“Doesn’t feel like it right now” she replied

“I know,” Harry sighed “I wish I could hug you”

“Me too” she said, Harry’s hugs always made everything better, they had ever since they were little and the worst thing that happened to them was falling off their bikes onto the concrete.

Clara sighed deeply as she sunk down into her spot on the bay window. She hated that she couldn’t enjoy having one night to herself, but she had gotten so used to having people around her, people she had to look after or take care of in some way.

“Maybe I should get a dog,” she thought to herself. Then she would never really be alone and she’d always feel needed.

But she lived in a small apartment so she would need a dog that was ok with being left inside while she was at work. Or maybe even a dog that she could take to work with her. Or a dog that Harry could dog sit for her when he was home. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and googled her local shelter. This was the most excited she had felt for months and the advice her mum gave her when she was young kept replaying in her head

“A dog or a baby will never be a mistake, they might make things harder sometimes, but you’ll love them so much that you’ll never feel like you made the wrong decision” and love was exactly what Clara needed right now. Because after Christmas Harry would be leaving for an almost year long world tour and she couldn’t stand the thought of being alone in London for that long. And her job meant that she couldn’t move back home to Holmes Chapel.

With just nine days left until christmas the shelter was full of dogs that needed new homes, dogs of all shapes and sizes, some who had been there for months and some who had only spent a few days there so far. If she had a bigger space, she'd adopt them all, but for now, one would do. She scrolled through and looked at all the profiles on the website before deciding that she would need to meet the dog before making any kind of concrete decision. And that was that, tomorrow morning she would pick Harry up from the airport and take him straight to the shelter to help her choose her new baby.

***

“Good Morning Ra” Harry said, shoving his bags into the boot of her car. The advantage of having a best friend that lived in London was not having to feel like an ass who needed a chauffeur to drive him around his home city.

“Good Morning Harold” she smiled trying to contain her excitement. Sleeping on the idea of getting a dog had not changed her mind, if anything it had only made her more sure of herself. And maybe slightly nervous.

“You’re very cheerful for someone who’s just been dumped” he said as he sat down in the passenger's seat and buckled his seatbelt.

“Do you have anywhere you need to be today?” she asked, ignoring his attempt at mentioning the elephant in the room

“I have rehearsals tonight, but until 7 I am free, don’t you have to be at work?”

“I have the day off”

Harry frowned “You never take days off” he said suspiciously “What’s going on?”

“We’re going on an adventure” she handed him her phone, “You’re in charge of the music”

“Da da da da da da ddada” The opening line of Golden echoed through the speaker, and Clara drove off,away from the airport, rolling her eyes at Harry for playing his own album.

They drove mostly in silence, Harry didn't want to ask where they were going and after the way she ignored his comment about the break up he didn’t want to bring it up in case it made her sad when right in this moment she seemed happier and more excited than he’d seen her in months.

They pulled up in a dingy looking car park on the outskirts of London and Harry furrowed his brow

“Where are we?” he said, half tempted to lock his car door

“I’m getting a dog” she smiled widely

“A dog?”

“Yeah, you know four legs, barks, like to go on walks, looks really cute when it’s asleep”

Harry laughed “I know what a dog is” he said, “But you’re not home enough for a dog”

“Office dog” she smirked “and I didn’t think you’d have any objections to dog sitting when you’re around”

“I mean, I don’t” he half smiled “but are you sure”

“Harold, in the very wise words of my beautiful mother, a dog or a baby is never a bad thing. And since the other half of my baby decided to up and fuck off a week ago, I’m getting a dog”

Harry sighed and unclipped his seatbelt, “You know most people find a rebound after a breakup, but a dog suits you better.” Harry knew when to stop arguing, he’d known Clara his whole life and, in a way, he knew she was right, a dog really was exactly what she needed.

They walked into the shelter side by side and anyone walking past would guess that they were a happy couple, looking to add the first addition to their little family. But that wasn’t the case, Harry and Clara had never been and will never be more than friends, despite what their mothers might think.

“Hi” Clara said as they walked into reception “I’m looking to adopt a dog”

“Of course” the girl smiled eyeing Harry off “just follow the hall all the way down to the end and one of the girls will help you once you’re down there.”

“Thanks” Harry smiled, winking at her as they walked away.

“Do you you have to flirt with everyone?” Clara said to him once they were out of earshot

“Just helping you get a really cute one”

Clara rolled her eyes and ignored him, she found that sometimes if she indulged him too much he became even more annoying.

They walked through the door at the end of the hallway and Clara’s heart immediately split into two. The dogs were all in tiny cages and a few of them looked unwell and malnourished, and that sympathetic feeling she felt when scrolling through their profiles last night only increased tenfold, staring into their lonely little eyes.

“Hi, my name’s sarah” a girl came around the corner, a wide grin on her face “are you just having a look or are you here to adopt today?”

“I’d like to adopt” Clara said definitively

“Yay!” Sarah said, “These dogs here have only just arrived and they’re not quite ready for adoption yet, but if you really fall in love with one of them you can come back in a few weeks and pick them up once they’ve had their needles and health checks or, if you go a little further down, those guys are ready to go - do you have a yard for a big dog, or were you looking for an apartment dog”

“I have a flat” Clara said, “but he has a yard just around the corner from my flat where I would take the dog to run around”

“I think I have the perfect boy for you!” Sarah exclaimed and started down the hallway, stopping outside a cage.

Clara smiled up at Harry and followed, almost at a run she was so excited.

“This is Larry, he’s a 10 month old greyhound and he’s been living in this shelter for 7 of those months”

Clara turned to face the dog and instantly fell in love, she crouched down and let him sniff her hand and instead he gave it a big lick and snuggled into it.

“He’s a sweet boy” Sarah said “but he’s not without his issues, he’s been seen by our behaviour therapist and he’ll need ongoing training and support but a little bit of love will go a long way with this little guy”

“What did he need to see the behavior therapist for?” Harry asked, knowing that Clara wouldn’t.

“He’s displayed a few guarding behaviors, they’re not uncommon for his breed, with the right training, he’ll grow into a wonderful dog”

Clara had stopped listening, she was kneeling down now, with her hand outstretched so that Larry could sniff it. But he didn’t want to just sniff, he greeted Clara with a great big lick and she knew right then that this was the dog that she would be taking home today.

“I’m sold” she said, without taking her eyes off the dog, who was now sitting very elegantly, staring up at her.

“Really?” Sarah said “Great, I’ll go and get him and take him to the play area and you guys can get to know each other while I get all the paperwork sorted - any questions?”

“Just one” Clara said thinking of the only obvious issue with adopting a dog named Larry and being publicly linked to Harry “Can I change his name?”

“Of course” Sarah smiled “He’s still a pup so he’ll learn his new name very quickly”

“Perfect”

Harry smiled at Clara as Sarah walked away “Are you sure Ra?”

“I’m sure as hell H, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life”

“Alright then” he smiled “guess I’m becoming an uncle today”

***

“How about David Bowie” Harry said later that afternoon, sitting on Clara’s living room floor, throwing Larry the tiny tennis ball that he’d gone out and bought after they got him home.

“Bowie for short” Clara mused “I really like that”

“David when he’s in trouble” Harry laughed

“Bowie” Clara called and Larry’s ears pricked up

“Bowie” she said again, and he bounded over to her.

“Well that’s settled then” Harry said.

Bowie sat down on Clara's lap while she petted his head gently.

"I'm so in love with you already little dog"

Harry spent the rest of the afternoon watching as Clara turned into the dog mum she was always meant to be and he felt his heart swell every time she smiled at something Bowie did.

"Loving you's the antidote" he thought to himself although in that moment he wasn’t entirely sure who was helping who.

***

December 19th, 2019 - London’s Electric Ballroom.

Late was one thing that Clara hated being. If she was ever late for something it usually filled her with so much anxiety that she would have to call someone and let them know that she was in fact on her way. But tonight she was running late because she couldn’t tear herself away from a snuggle on the couch with her beautiful boy and she hadn’t called anyone because couldn’t bring herself to tell anyone that she was late to her best friend's album release because she was too busy snuggling her dog and that she wasn't sorry at all. So instead she snuck in the back door, slipped into the dressing room and pretended she had been there the whole time.

“Gem!” she exclaimed when she spotted Harry’s sister “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.

“No you haven’t” she smirked “You just snuck in that back door, you were late”

“Shhh” clara hushed “Don’t tell H”

“He won’t care, not today, anyway - Have you met the latest piece of arm candy?”

Clara batted her eyelashes at the news that Harry was dating someone new

“No” she shook her head, “I didn’t know there was anyone new”

“Oh they only met a few days ago, just before he left for LA I think, but she’s pretty clingy and so far she doesn’t seem that nice”

“Blonde?” Clara asked, a tone of bitterness evident in her voice

Gemma nodded

“Skinny?”

“You bet” Gemma sighed

“Checks out” Clara nodded, “That’s why he hasn’t told me, I think he’s afraid I’ll get sad if he’s dating someone that looks like the girl Will slept with 2 days after he broke up with me”

“What a prick” Gemma said “Will, I mean, not H… maybe H a little bit” she added

“Is she here?” Clara asked, raising her eyebrows as if she was on a mission.

“Yeah” Gemma nodded towards the closed door to Harry’s private dressing room “They’re in there together, doors locked”

“Gross” Clara rolled her eyes.

All of Clara’s gulit about being late seemed to disappear after that, Harry would never know, or care if he was too busy having sex with a girl he’s only just met in the dressing room just before the show. Especially if hadn’t deemed her important enough to tell Clara about.

Go time was fast approaching and eventually Jeff and Tommy, Harry’s managers, started ushering all the guests into the concert hall, so that Harry could get ready and warm up. Clara had never been to this venue before, but as herself and Gemma stepped out onto the balcony, she understood why it was called the electric ballroom, the room was buzzing with excitement and she felt herself become excited too. She did always love watching Harry perform. She had ever since they were babies and Harry would dance in the kitchen play area at daycare and she would giggle along.

“Just there” Gemma whispered to her, pointing at the tall blonde that just walked into the room.

Clara shrugged and handed Gemma the glass of wine that she herself had just been handed “Well if H won’t introduce me, I’ll just introduce myself”

She walked over to where the girl stood, looking lonely and out of place and held her hand out to her quickly withdrawing it, thinking about where it might have been not too long ago.

“Hi, I’m Clara” she said, keeping her hands firmly by her side, “I’m Harry’s best friend, Gemma told me that you guys are dating”

The girl looked her up and down “I’m Shelly” she said, sounding bored with the conversation already “If you’re his best friend you’ve probably been to one of these things before right”

“Yeahhh” Clara nodded, not sure where she was going with this “Once, this only his second album”

“How long do they go for? I’ve got a somewhere to be later”

“He’ll be on stage for about an hour and half” Clara said taken aback by the lack of support she was showing “but it’s a release show, so he’ll want to hang around celebrate the album going to number one already”

Shelly scoffed “Oh well I Probably can’t stay for that, I might even have to leave before he gets off stage”

Before Clara had a chance to reply the house lights turned off and a voice began to echo around the room.

“Right” Clara nodded, not wanting to say too much, although it was becoming pretty clear to her that they both seemed to only be in this for sex “Well it was nice to meet you, I’m going to go watch from over there”

“She’s a delight, isn’t she?” Gemma said, handing Clara back her glass of wine, glad that the screams were echoing around the room loud enough to drown her words out from any eavesdroppers.

“I give it a month”

Gemma didn’t have a chance to retort, because Harry had made his way onto the stage and the screams filling the room became deafening, but she thought a month was ambitious.

“Golden, golden, golden, As I open my eyes' ' A smile as wide as Harry’s cheeks spread across his face as he looked out into the crowd and he winked at Clara when he found her standing next to Gemma on the balcony.She always loved that his first instinct was to find her in a room full of people. She smiled back at him and tears filled her eyes. She was so proud of the man standing up on that stage, he’d come so far since the last time they were standing in a room like this and she’d been there every step of the way.The smile on his face said it all, he was happy and he was proud of the album he’d written and so was she.

“I’m Harry, nice to meet you, thank you very much for having me, how are you? Harry said after playing Golden “The crowd cheered and Harry moved his gaze back to where Clara and Gemma were standing, tears streaming down both of their faces “Good! Before we start the show properly, I’d like to point out that my beautiful sister and my beautiful best friend are already crying, after they promised they would wait until I sang Falling”

The crowd laughed and Clara only cried more while Gemma tried to hide her tears from everyone who had now turned around to look at them.

“So my new album came out a week ago, and tonight I’m going to play it for you. London is home. You are my home, it only felt right to sing it in front of you before it goes on tour. So welcome, and sing along when you can”

As Harry began to sing Watermelon Sugar, Clara glanced over at the space where Shelly had been standing and noticed that she was gone. Clara shrugged and turned back to face the stage. All she wanted to do now was dance, and enjoy the art her best friend had devoted himself to for the last year and a half.

When the first notes of “Falling” echoed around the room Clara’s heart sank and she was taken back to the day he’d written the song. It wasn’t that long ago, 4 months maybe, and he was heartbroken, a complete mess, he had been so in love and camille had ripped his heart right out of his chest and walked away with it. He didn’t know what to do with himself, so he found comfort in Clara’s apartment, pretending that none of it ever happened. And that’s exactly how Clara felt now, Will was gone, she was alone, and she felt like maybe that was it for her, she’d had her one great love and now she was someone no one would want around. Life had it’s funny ways of letting you know that you’re on the right path, and for Clara, listening to Harry on stage, reclaiming his heart for himself in a room full of people who loved and supported him through his worst moments, was one of them, if he could do it, so could she. Each song after that filled her heart with more and more pride and by the time Harry came off stage she felt as though she was going to explode.

“Harry fucking Styles” she said running into his arms when she finally got backstage

“Clara fucking Riley” he wrapped his arms around her

“I want to stay and party but I have to get home to my Bowie”

Harry kissed on the forehead “If I could I’d skip the party to hang out with Bowie too.”

“He’s pretty much the best”

“I’ll stumble in at some point later on though” he smiled “So we can head back home for christmas early tomorrow”

“Good idea, alright, Love you H - and we have to talk about Shelly in the car!”

“No we don’t” he smirked

[potionsprefect]

A Home With Love

Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x Victoria Clarke

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: After a bad day at work, Ethan cannot wait to get home

Rating: T (one swear word)

Category: fluff

The clock chimed at 7pm, it was pitch black outside, the sky covered by clouds but the small balls of light from the thousands of stars were peeking out through the clouds.

Ethan pulled himself away from the view of his office and sorted out the last of his paperwork, before he filed it away and pulled on his coat.

His eyes cast towards the two photos on his desk, one of his wife smiling with the blue sea behind her, the other of his two children who were covered in paint and looked as if they were trying not to laugh. Ethan smiled at the two photos, ready to go home, back to family life where he belonged.

Ethan walked out of his office and down the corridor, nodding to the several nightshift staff who had just started their shifts for the evening. As he walked out the hospital, he was met with the cold December air, snow was beginning to fall slowly from the sky.

Ethan got into his car. He really should either get the train or bus to the hospital in order to do his part for the environment, but the drive to work in the mornings was the only time Ethan got any peace.

Before he started the engine, he took a few deep breaths. Today had overall, been a shit day.

In the morning, an intern had given a patient the wrong medication which then caused a seizure. The patient survived thankfully and Ethan spent 15 minutes lecturing the intern on reading everything properly before handing out the correct treatment. It was like teaching a child how to read.

Then a massive trauma came in and because Mass Kenmore had power issues, Bloom Edenbrook had to take all the critical patients. And a fire at a factory meant all hands on deck.

The fire was so severe not many people survived. Ethan was sure he had called at least 8 or 9 deaths within half an hour. And that was always the worst part of being a doctor.

Ethan pulled out of the car park and down the road, stopping at the red lights. He looked out at the couples inside restaurants, laughing and holding hands at the tables.

A painful memory suddenly flooded his mind. Earlier on that day, a young couple came into the hospital after being in a car crash. The woman survived but the man did not and Ethan had to break the news to her. As he watched her digest the news and then not surprisingly break down, he felt small tears in the corner of his eyes, knowing it could’ve easily been him in that situation.

Before he knew it, Ethan was pulling into the driveway of their home. Snow was falling heavier than before, already beginning to set on the ground. Ethan saw a light on in the big house and looked through the window where he saw his two children on their knees colouring something in whilst his wife was sat on the sofa reading a magazine. Ethan smiled at the scene he saw, ready to join his family for a quiet evening.

Ethan locked his car and put his key in the front door turning it, the heat from the home hitting him instantly. As he took his shoes off two small humans suddenly threw their arms around him.

“Daddy!” The excited voices of Luke and Lily Ramsey squealed as they hugged Ethan tightly.

“How are my two favourite humans?” Ethan grinned wrapping an arm around each of them.

“We had the best day ever!”

“Why don’t you show Daddy what Auntie Sarah bought you today?” A voice said. Ethan looked up and saw Victoria leaning against the frame, arms folded, an amused smirk on her face.

The twins let go of Ethan and ran into the living room as Victoria chuckled stepping closer to him.

“Was that just a plan to get a moment alone with me?” Ethan grinned.

“It worked didn’t it? I figured you could do with the peace and quiet a little longer.” Victoria wrapped her arms around his neck.

“How kind of you.” Ethan grinned.

“How was your day?”

“Awful, I’ll tell you about it later.” Ethan sighed.

“I’ll get you a glass of scotch. Why don’t you go and see what our little monsters got from Sarah today.” Victoria gave Ethan a quick kiss before she headed to the kitchen. Ethan took off his coat and headed into the living room where Luke and Lily were.

“Look Daddy! We got new colouring books from Auntie Sarah!” Lily held the book in front of him.

“Wow! Aren’t you both lucky!” Ethan pretended to be amazed by the book.

“Yeah! And she sent us lots of colouring pens as well!” Luke said.

“We’ve been using them all day. Although Mummy had to wash me after I got pen on my face.” Lily giggled.

Ethan smiled fondly at the scene as his two young children continued colouring in. He felt lucky that his family were still there for him to come home to at the end of the day. The families of those who died today will be grieving tonight. Ethan felt lucky he wasn’t going through that.

“Daddy? Are you ok?” Luke tugged on his sleeve.

“Come here you two.” Ethan opened his arms and the twins moved forward to hug him. Ethan wrapped an arm around each of them, holding them tightly. “You know how much I love you? That will never change.”

“Are you sad?” Lily looked at him her striking green eyes looked sad themselves.

“Sometimes it’s okay to be sad as well as being happy. I always ask people to tell me how they’re feeling.” Ethan replied.

“And then you can make them better?” Luke asked.

“Most of the time yes.”

“Coming home to us today has definitely made Daddy feel better. Because you two are the most important people in his life. And that will remain constant forever.” Victoria, who had been listening by the door, knelt down on the floor as she put Ethan’s glass on a nearby table.

“What about you Mummy?” Lily asked as she went to hug Victoria.

“I feel the exact same way sweetheart. And I hope you will always remember that.” Victoria smiled kissing the side of Lily’s head.

The family of four did some colouring in before the twins got sleepy. Victoria and Ethan carried them to bed and helped them into their pyjamas before they tucked them in and headed back downstairs.

“Do you want something to eat?” Victoria asked when they reached the bottom of the stairs.

“In a minute. Can we just sit down for a bit?” Ethan said. Victoria nodded and took his hand as she led them to the sofa, wrapping him up in her arms as she swung her legs onto the sofa so she was lying horizontally.

“So what happened today? And tell me everything, starting from the beginning.” Victoria ran her hand through his hair as Ethan laid his head on her chest.

Ethan sighed contently, the sensation making him feel warm and safe. “Well it started out with an intern not knowing basic comprehensive skills, then there was a massive fire at a local factory and because of Kenmore’s power issue we got every casualty. And then a young couple came in from a car crash, one of them didn’t survive and I had to break the news to the other.” Ethan sighed, the events of the day catching up to him.

“No wonder you’re exhausted. How about I take your mind off it all.” Victoria suggested.

“And how would you do that?” Ethan asked looking up at Victoria with a smile.

“I’ve already started.” Victoria smiled as she reached for Ethan’s scotch glass. “Now you mister just sit there and I’ll bring in your dinner.” She kissed his cheek before heading to the kitchen and brought him his dinner no less than 10 minutes later.

“Some things never change.” Ethan grinned as Victoria placed some chicken in front of him.

“What can I say? I’m a sucker for tradition.” Victoria winked.

It didn’t take long for Ethan to finish the meal, he didn’t realise just how hungry he was. Once he had finished he pulled Victoria into his arms and she snuggled against his side.

“Thank you.” Ethan mumbled into her hair.

“I’ll always take care of you. Remember that. Even when you’re being grumpy.” Victoria smiled. “Are you sure you’re okay? It’s ok if you’re not.”

“Yeah I’m ok. Really.” Ethan replied.

“Why don’t you take tomorrow off? Spend the day with us. We can do something as a family.” Victoria suggested.

“And leave the diagnostics team in the hands of Harper?” Ethan teased.

“Could be worse I suppose.” Victoria shrugged.

“You make a compelling argument. And as per usual, you’re always right.” Ethan squeezed her in affection.

“So does that mean you will?”

“I better go turn off my alarm.” Ethan smiled.

Victoria leaned up and kissed him, cupping his face in her hands whilst his gripped her waist. Ethan could feel her smiling into the kiss before breaking away.

“Thank you.” Victoria smiled.

“No thank you. For always being there for me.” Ethan smiled before kissing her again.

The couple laid on the sofa, happy and content, the fire crackling in the distance and the snow continuing to fall heavy outside the window.

Life couldn’t get much better than right now.

— — — — —

Let me know if you would like to be tagged!

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Become A 7-Figure Real Estate Investor with Nick Perry and Jay Conner, The Private Money Authority

https://www.jayconner.com/become-a-7-figure-real-estate-investor-with-nick-perry-and-jay-conner-the-private-money-authority/

Freedom to go on different ventures, explore different areas of life, helping other real estate investors become financially free.

These are the things that Nick Perry wants to share with everyone as he talks with Jay Conner about how he started his real estate business until his company became one of the largest wholesaling companies in the US.

Nick is the Owner/Founder/Executive Chairman of Want To Sell Now. The largest nationwide wholesaling company in the United States is based out of Austin TX.

He also owns a fleet of semi-trucks multiple eCommerce businesses and invests in multiple companies and commercial real estate. He also owns the 7 Figure Cartel mastermind that gets people quickly through the hurdles to become multiple 7 figure real estate investors.

He grew up in Northern Virginia and spent the first 5 years of my career in Personal Training before moving to Austin TX where he now resides. Nick moved to Austin with no job, network, and very little money. Soon as he got to Austin, he decided he would do whatever it took to be successful in real estate in pursuit of new opportunities.

He didn’t come easy. It took him 11 months to get his first deal but he did not give up. Nick worked 18 hours a day 7 days a week. He got a six-figure sales job at Indeed.com while he was building my real estate business. Nick devoted all of his sales commissions and time outside of my 9-5 to building my real estate business until he was able to go full-time. As soon as he went full-time, he quickly scaled his real estate company to where it is now in less than 3 years. He now has 8 streams of income and is working on creating more.

Timestamps:

0:01 – Get Ready To Be Plugged Into The Money

1:02 – Jay’s New Book: “Where To Get The Money Now” –https://www.JayConner.com/Book

1:59 – Today’s guest: Nick Perry

4:45 – Nick Perry talks about how he got started in the real estate business.

5:47 – What is your definition of freedom?

6:25 – When did you start your real estate business?

6:47 – Nick talks about some of his early struggles.

8:40 – As the owner of one of the largest wholesaling companies in the USA, Perry talks about what his company looks like and the number of deals they are making now.

10:04 – Nick Perry talks about what wholesaling is all about.

11:32 – Nick explains what is a Novation deal.

12:28 – What makes your company/organization different?

14:00 – How do you run your real estate business remotely?

16:10 – Nick talks about how he manages the rehab or repairs of a property.

17:51 – Tips on building buyers lists.

19:40 – Do you agree that it’s more challenging to find real estate deals now than a couple of years ago?

22:18 – How much money do you spend in marketing to get a contract?

23:21 – What tools in your real estate business that you can’t live without?

24:19 – What is the most important lesson that you learned from real estate investing?

26:42 – Nick Perry talks about his passion for helping other real estate investors.

28:18 – Connect with Nick Perry: https://www.7FigureCartel.com

Private Money Academy Conference:

https://jaysliveevent.com/live/?oprid=&ref=42135

Have you read Jay’s new book: Where to Get The Money Now? It is available FREE (all you pay is the shipping and handling) at https://www.JayConner.com/Book

Free Webinar: http://bit.ly/jaymoneypodcast

Jay Conner is a proven real estate investment leader. Without using his own money or credit, Jay maximizes creative methods to buy and sell properties with profits averaging $64,000 per deal.

What is Real Estate Investing? Live Private Money Academy Conference

https://youtu.be/QyeBbDOF4wo

YouTube Channel

https://www.youtube.com/c/RealEstateInvestingWithJayConner

iTunes:

https://podcasts.apple.com/ca/podcast/private-money-academy-real-estate-investing-jay-conner/id1377723034

Listen to our Podcast:

https://realestateinvestingdeals.mypodcastworld.com/11198/become-a-7-figure-real-estate-investor-with-nick-perry-and-jay-conner-the-private-money-authority

Become A 7-Figure Real Estate Investor with Nick Perry and Jay Conner

Jay Conner (02:10):

I don’t know about the rest of you, but today he’s down in Miami, on the beach. Anyway, this company is the largest nationwide wholesaling company in the United States, and it is based out of Austin, Texas. Now my guest also owns a fleet of semi-trucks, multiple e-commerce businesses, and he also invests in multiple companies and commercial real estate. Now he also owns this mastermind, the 7-Figure Cartel Mastermind. I can’t wait to hear about that. And that gets people quickly through the hurdles to become and enjoy a multiple 7-figure real estate investing company. Now he grew up in Northern Virginia, spent the first five years of his career in personal training before moving to Austin, Texas, where he now lives and moved to Austin with no job network, very little money. And as soon as he got to Austin in pursuit of new opportunities, he decided he was going to do whatever it took to be a successful real estate investor.

Jay Conner (03:12):

Well, it did not come to him easy and as it does for most of us. It took him 11 months before he got his first deal and he didn’t give up. He worked 18 hours a day, 7 days a week, got a 6-figure sales job at Indeed.com, while at the same time, he was building his real estate investing business. He devoted all of his sales commissions and time outside of the 9 to 5 to building his real estate business until he was able to go full time. So as soon as he went full time, he quickly scaled his real estate company to where it is now and did all that in less than 3 years. And today he has 8 different streams of income and is working on creating more. With that, let me welcome to the show here, my friend, Nick Perry. Hello, Nick. Welcome to the show.

Nick Perry (04:04):

Jay, what an intro man. That was incredible, but I’m honored and excited to be with you guys right now. So looking forward to learning it from you and, hopefully, being able to give it a lot of value to the audience as well.

Jay Conner (04:15):

Absolutely. Nick. So it looks like you’re relaxing down there in Miami.

Nick Perry (04:22):

I am. I actually just moved into a new house here in Miami Beach. So I’m getting my office set up, the interior designer’s coming back and forth. So I’m hanging out on the couch, working from the couch today.

Jay Conner (04:33):

Awesome. Well, there’s nothing wrong with that. Well, I appreciate you taking time out to join me and the audience here on the show. So are you ready? You got your seatbelt on?

Nick Perry (04:43):

Let’s go.

Jay Conner (04:45):

All right. What got you into real estate?

Nick Perry (04:49):

My entire life, coming from a kind of middle-class family, everybody that I surrounded myself with was your W-2 employees. They work 9 to 5, just like the majority of the world. And when I was a personal trainer, most of my clients were really, really well off. They were business owners, they were in sales. And those were the guys that were taking nice vacations, they were driving fancy cars, they had freedom and all the things that I wanted in life. And so rather than going with the flock to continue on a 9 to 5 path, I realized that in order to be financially free, I better go out and build a company or get into some high-ticket sales because that’s what everybody who actually had money was doing. So I didn’t know what I wanted to do, but real estate ended up turning out to be that vehicle. And it’s been incredible, as you know, it’s the best decision I ever made in my life.

Jay Conner (05:47):

So you mentioned the word “freedom.” What’s your definition of freedom?

Nick Perry (05:50):

Well, I mean, I’m sitting here right now in Miami Beach. I live two blocks from the ocean. I’ve got the freedom to be able to go where I want when I want, be with the family when I want, so yeah. If I was working at a 9 to 5 job, you just can’t do that kind of thing. So that is also freedom just to be able to go into new ventures and explore different areas of life. That’s really what it’s all about for me. So yeah, I’ve been able to create that for myself and it’s been a heck of a ride.

Jay Conner (06:26):

So, what year did you start?

Nick Perry (06:29):

I landed in Austin, Texas, like you said, without really anything. I had like $5,000 in my name and I just started learning and taking action and I just didn’t give up. And now here we are 7 years later.

Jay Conner (06:45):

Yeah. So what were some of your early struggles?

Nick Perry (06:51):

Early struggles? Obviously, everybody’s got a learning curve, but in 2014, I was doing a lot of direct mail. I wasn’t getting a lot of results either. I would handwrite the cards myself because I didn’t have enough money to pay for a fulfillment house. And I had to get good at sales, too. When I moved down to Austin, it was a much different place than Northern Virginia where I grew up. So, I had to adapt my sales style. You can’t talk so fast down in Texas like you can up in Northern Virginia. So I had to slow down a little bit, and really, the biggest thing was I was getting too much information. I think this is what happens to a lot of investors, as I’m watching YouTube video after YouTube video, trying to absorb as much as I can. And I really didn’t start getting traction until I hired my first mentor and just plugged directly into him. So I started working with Sean Terry, a great guy, in the very beginning, and I would visit with him every quarter and he would tell me exactly what I needed to do and I’d come back the next quarter. And I did that for a couple of years and that really got me going. So hiring a good mentor early was critical for my success. I was fumbling around trying to watch YouTube videos for the first 11 months.

Jay Conner (08:17):

Right. I got you. So yeah, getting a mentor, getting a really, really good coach up front was very important for you. So you’ve got one of the largest, if not the largest, wholesaling company in the US. What does your company look like?

Nick Perry (08:51):

Basically, what does it look like physically? It’s an inside sales office, right? So we’ve got 11 employees and inside of it, we’ve got 5 in Acquisitions. We’ve got 3 in Dispositions, we’ve got my seat as CEO. Then we’ve got a couple support admins and then myself. So we’re not huge, but we’ve been doing it long enough that all of our people are just A players.

Jay Conner (09:23):

So, how many deals are you doing these days in your organization?

Nick Perry (09:28):

So, when we’re in the office, we’re getting anywhere from 3 to 5 contracts every single day. So between 40 to 60 closed and funded deals every month.

Jay Conner (09:39):

Gotcha. And how many different markets are you in?

Nick Perry (09:43):

So the unique thing about my company is we market the entire United States. So I don’t have a specific market or pockets or different markets. I literally blanket the entire US.

Jay Conner (09:59):

Got you. So about five contracts a day. Day in and day out. Let’s make sure everybody understands what we mean when we say “wholesaling.” Different people have different definitions of wholesaling. So what’s your definition of wholesaling? How does that work?

Nick Perry (10:14):

Yeah, wholesaling is, you’re going and you’re contracting a property. Wholesaling, you could literally wholesale any item, but we’ll just use real estate for the example. So you negotiate with a motivated seller to get a property under contract for a certain amount that you can turn around and give it to an investor for a higher amount. So easy numbers, you’ve got a $100,000 property. It’s worth a hundred grand. You get the seller to agree to let you have that property and put it under contract for $65,000. And then you turn around and you find a fix-and-flipper or an investor that wants to buy that property. And they’ll buy it for $75,000. Well, when you get a contract with both parties and turn them into the title company, the title company will give you a $10,000 check or however much the difference is.

Jay Conner (11:03):

Right. So would you say wholesaling in your company is sort of synonymous with assigning or collecting assignment fees?

Nick Perry (11:11):

Correct? Yeah, so we collect a lot of assignment fees, but we’re not just a one-trick pony either. We do “subject to” deals. I hold a lot of rentals in my portfolio, as well. We do novations. So we’re always looking for different exit strategies to monetize more deals.

Jay Conner (11:32):

Right? Explain to everybody what a novation is. What’s a novation deal?

Nick Perry (11:36):

So a novation deal is basically if you have a seller who wants close to retail, their house is in pretty good shape, right? You can go ahead and contract that property. Say they want thousands. We’ll use the $100,000 example again. You got a house that’s a hundred and the seller doesn’t want to take a dime less than 90. Well, you put that property under contract with a novation agreement at 90,000, and that novation agreement will allow you to actually list that property at full retail. Sometimes there’s minor repairs that you do as part of the novation agreement. You may go in and do some carpet or paint or landscaping, but you’re not doing any heavy remodels. These are properties that are in fairly good condition and you can put them and list them and get full retail from a conventional buyer at the end.

Jay Conner (12:27):

Right. What would you say is different about your organization, say from some of your other friends that have real estate investing companies, or say, from some of your other competitors?

Nick Perry (12:41):

Well, being nationwide is completely different than being in a select handful of markets because we don’t have boots on the ground. That would be really impossible, as well. So in order for us to be successful, we have to literally do everything over the phone from acquisitions to dispositions, to coordinating the showings. Literally, everything from A to Z is done remotely from our office in Austin, Texas. So that’s something that’s different than a lot of people, is we’re not having any boots on the ground or anything like that. And then, additionally, my people, that’s the biggest key to my success is the caliber of candidates that we’ve attracted into our organization. I think bar none, I’ll put my team up against anybody’s team that I’ve got a great group of guys.

Jay Conner (14:02):

Give us a 30,000 foot view of how you run a totally virtual remote operation, no boots on the ground. Like what are the key components that you have to have in place for that to work?

Nick Perry (14:27):

So, we do a ton of inbound marketing pretty much through PPC. So we do all online marketing. We don’t do any telecommunications. So a lead will come in and we’re talking to them very similar to the way that most people are talking to these sellers, but when we negotiate, we negotiate over the phone. So we’re going through the property condition. We’re evaluating the property right there on our computers in Austin, and based on the comparables and the condition that the seller describes, we’ll go ahead and contract that property via DocuSign, like electronic signature. And once we have that electronic signature, then the next step is to actually get real photos on file. And that way we can actually start to market that property. So we’ll have the seller take photos for us, or we’ll hire a local handyman or a realtor to go get photos for us on our behalf.

Nick Perry (15:22):

And then from there, once we’ve got our photos, we’ve got our contract and we know how to get access into that property, then we can start locating interested parties who actually want to buy that property. So we’ll go out, we’ll find the buyer, we’ll have them usually put a deposit down before they even go out to the property, once their deposit is in and they’ve agreed to purchase it based on the inspection, we’ll give them one walkthrough after they put their deposit down. Then from there, they’ll do their walkthrough and we’ll use a local title company, or we have national title companies that we use that’ll facilitate the closing with all parties and you send the wire right into our bank account.

Jay Conner (16:08):

So a little more specifically, how do you get really close on estimating repairs?

Nick Perry (16:17):

It’s an art. So one thing that we do is we have a detailed property description and then pictures tell a thousand words, right? So yeah, sellers don’t always know the exact condition of their property, or they try to hide things, you know? But once you have a detailed Rolodex of photos to look at, that’s going to get you really close. Also, after we send somebody in there, if they find out that there’s additional repairs that are needed, we’re going to disclose that to the seller and all parties and make sure that it’s a win-win for everybody involved. We want the investor to get a great deal, solve the seller’s problems. So, nothing’s really getting past us.

Jay Conner (17:08):

You say the majority of your buyers are other real estate investors that are taking the deal down and you’re planning on an assignment fee from them?

Nick Perry (17:21):

Yeah. And unless it’s a novation agreement or sometimes, we’ll just list the properties on the MLS on behalf of the seller. And in those cases, it’s a conventional buyer, but the majority of our clients are all real estate investors like yourself. And you guys that are watching the show that are fixing-and-flipping property, or you’re a buy-and-hold investor looking for additional cash flow properties. Those are our end clients at the end of the day.

Jay Conner (17:51):

You’ve got someone that’s starting out and they want to be in wholesaling. One of the first things they need to do, I suppose, is build a buyers list, right? So what are some of your tips and secrets and strategies on how you quickly build a buyers list of other real estate investors to market wholesale deals today?

Nick Perry (18:15):

Well, yeah, that was one of my biggest challenges going nationwide. I had leads coming in from everywhere, but I didn’t have buyers everywhere. And so one thing that was really helpful to me was you’re going to these masterminds and things like that because I got to know so many other investors from different markets. I was either able to barter, trade, or buy a ton of different buyers lists. So I quickly built up a large buyer’s list just from that. And then, additionally, Facebook is a great tool. There’s tons of real estate investment, Facebook groups, all over where there’s active investors looking for deals. So that and a lot of these small towns, we just reach out to the realtors there because those realtors know everybody, right? They know the doctor that wants to buy a couple of rental properties a month. They know the big fix-and-flipper that’s doing 40 homes a year. So you just get resourceful, roll your sleeves up, and talk to people.

Jay Conner (19:18):

You can’t be picking up the telephone, can you?

Nick Perry (19:22):

Now, we are big on that. I’m big on being on the phones. We don’t do a lot of texting or emailing. My guys, it’s old school, pick up the phone, and make contact and have a conversation.

Jay Conner (19:37):

Yeah, there you go. I love it. We’re in a crazy market nationwide, pretty much every market. There’s no inventory to speak of in the multiple listing service. I hear a lot of my real estate investing friends say it’s the most challenging time that they’ve ever had, finding the off-market deals. And so we gotta be consistently marketing. So first of all, would you agree with that statement that it’s more challenging to find deals today, say than a couple of years ago?

Nick Perry (20:13):

I don’t know. I mean, I’m making more money than I’ve ever made in my career right now. So I think it just comes down to being smart with the way that you’re marketing because if you’re doing telecommunications, which is cold-calling, ringless voicemail, texting sellers, that’s an uphill battle. You’re beating on their door, knocking on their door, asking to give them a cash offer and everybody else is doing that. So one thing that was critical for me was to get really good at online marketing. All I do is pay-per-click advertising. I don’t do any other form of marketing. It’s been that way for a long time just because it’s a completely different approach when somebody’s reaching out to you, asking you for help versus you reaching out and trying to help somebody.

Jay Conner (21:06):

Absolutely. I was gonna say, it’s a whole different conversation when they’re raising their hand looking for you versus you raising your hand and you looking for them. It’s a different, whole conversation when somebody is clicking on your ad and saying, “Hey, please contact me,” versus you’re coming into somebody’s newsfeed or a Facebook ad or anything like that. I love it. So that’s interesting. You’re the only person I’ve talked to that only has one marketing channel. So that’s fantastic. I would think your sales guys, your acquisitions guys have a lot happier day than some other wholesalers.

Nick Perry (21:54):

Big time. If I were to give them cold calling leads or texting leads, they’d probably quit because I mean, it’s a completely different vibe. We get our conversions and it’s 1 out of every 10 to 15 leads is a contract. So they’re having to do much less outbound dials to get deals.

Jay Conner (22:16):

Right. What’s your average cost of a deal these days? What’s your conversion cost? How much money do you have to spend in marketing to get a contract?

Nick Perry (22:31):

I know it fluctuates between $800 and $1200. So our cost per contract’s really low because I’ve been working on PPC for so long. I’ve got my cost per lead really low at this point, which obviously plays a huge part in the cost per contract and profitability and all of that.

Jay Conner (22:49):

That’s fantastic. Do you use virtual assistants in your business?

Nick Perry (22:55):

We do. We have some virtual assistants that help out on the disposition side. We have some a couple of full-time virtual assistants that help follow up within our internal database, but the majority of my staff is all in-house right there in Austin, Texas. And they’re 5 days a week, Monday through Friday just going after it.

Jay Conner (23:21):

What kind of CRM or tools or systems do you have in place that your business really couldn’t live without?

Nick Perry (23:31):

We’ve customized our Podio to do everything that we needed to do. So that’s been phenomenal. If you’re using Podio, find a good developer to help customize it to the way that you like to do business. And then additionally Zillow, we comp using Zillow and we comp using PropStream. So those are really helpful. And then on the selling side of the properties, we use a software called InvestorLift, which is really helpful. It’ll show you all the LLCs of the people that are flipping property there in the area and give you their contact information. So InvestorLift has been a powerful tool for finding those investors across the country.

Jay Conner (24:18):

Interesting. So you’ve got quite a few years of experience right now. My next question, you would probably be able to answer this in more than one way, so I’ll just let you pick one. What’s one of the most important lessons you’ve learned since being in real estate investing?

Nick Perry (24:35):

Oh man. There’s so many. If I had to boil it down to one though, I don’t want to give you a cliché answer, like, “Don’t give up” or anything like that, but in terms of real estate investing is, “It’s going to be okay.” So here’s what I tell a lot of my students, too. It comes down to your team, and let me elaborate on that. “A” Players are the only thing that work in this business. If you have an A Player and B Player, here’s what happens. You got the B Player that ends up getting half of the leads, and that deal that your A Player would have closed and made $70,000 on, your B Player is going to fumble on that and it’s not going to become a deal. So you end up having a lot of lost revenue. So you look at that and you take that scenario and you extract it out over a week, a month, a quarter a year, you could, you could be potentially losing your multiple 7-figures if you don’t have the best talent. So I think people want to try to settle for inexperienced people, people that aren’t A Talent because they don’t think they can afford them and things like that. But I’m telling you, good talent is really the key to my success.

Jay Conner (26:01):

And what are your favorite ways to find that talent?

Nick Perry (26:06):

So I worked at Indeed before coming into real estate. So I know a lot of the tricks on how to get a ton of candidate flow there. And then we’ve come up with a proprietary way of just being able to quickly funnel through people and get near the best people that rise to the top on Indeed. So, Indeed, by far is number one and then referrals, as well. We’ve had a lot of great people come through who work with me just through referrals.

Jay Conner (26:36):

Gotcha. Super! Well, Nick, I tell you what, you have got the experience and you are one impressive human being. What is a final thought or thoughts that you would like to share with the audience?

Nick Perry (26:50):

Yeah, final thoughts. The biggest thing is if you’re already in the business, what tends to happen a lot of times is you plateau, you end up getting stuck. I got stuck in what I call “wholesaling purgatory” for 3 or 4 years where I couldn’t get past 5 to 8 deals a month. And what I did was now that we do 40, 50, 60 deals a month, the biggest difference was 1. Your team, 2. Your marketing, and then 3.) Also being nationwide. So I literally downloaded everything I know into video format and then created a mastermind behind it, as well, where I work with already experienced real estate investors that are looking to get from maybe a handful of deals a month to 7+ figures, multiple 7-figures a year. That’s what I’m really good at is helping people that are already successful in getting them quickly through those growth pains in this business because I already went through it. So that’s my new passion now is working with other investors I get to help. That’s really rewarding to me. And that’s been my new passion since I don’t do much in the day-to-day of my wholesaling operation anymore. I just get out of those guys’ way and let them close deals.

Jay Conner (28:11):

Yeah, man, and I’ve gotten the same passion and that is making a difference in other real estate investors’ lives. So let’s give everybody your website because we got some viewers and most of the people that are going to be listening to us will actually be listening to the podcast. So that website is www.7FigureCartel.com. Did I get that right, Nick?

Nick Perry (28:49):

You got it. Or you can just reach out to me on Instagram. It’s just my name, Nick Perry and then REI like real estate investments. So just Nick Perry REI, or you can go to the website, but yeah, happy to connect and help you guys any way I can.

[cudan2]

We’re Only Human

Spring Break Shadowing Part 4

Carlisle Cullen x Reader

Word Count: 2,040

Summary: It’s the last day of shadowing with Dr. Cullen, but you’ve come to realize a little more about how you feel towards him. Cue crushes and a little bit of chaos along the way.

A/N: I finished the semester and can actually dedicate time to writing this again because instead of being on spring break, I’m now on winter break. I also chopped this part in half because it was probably going to be over 6,000 words otherwise and that’s just a lot compared to the previous ones. Bear with me, guys. Another note - I’m thinking about posting this on Ao3 but will rewrite it because I don’t know what I was thinking when I wrote this in present tense lol. 

Anyways, this is #8 on my headcanon list.

Masterlist

XXX

You don’t know how it happened, but time is on your side and you’re running early this morning. The sun has just risen and casts a warm glow across the hospital as you make you way to the Starbucks, determined to be the one to buy Doctor Cullen his drink for once.

Meeting him here every morning has become a tradition, a tradition that involves him getting you breakfast every day you’ve shadowed him this week. The two of you would chat about various topics while walking to where ever he had to be next. Sometimes you would prod his brain with more medical-related questions, occasionally he would tell stories from his past, but regardless, his every word had you captivated.

Alright, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to finally admit that you may or may not have developed a tiny crush on Doctor Cullen. To be fair though, this is your last day shadowing him and it’s not like you’re ever going to see him again anyways. You feel a pang of disappointment at the thought, but it soon disappears when Emily greets you at the counter.  

“Hi, Y/N! Where’s the doctor today?”

“I was running early today, so I figured I’d grab both of our drinks.” You place your order and ask the barista what Doctor Cullen’s “usual” was.

“Oh that?” she laughs. “He gets boiling water. It’s a little weird, but I just assumed he makes tea with it.”

Boiling... water? You think back to the last several days and try to remember what Doctor Cullen even did with his drink. He definitely never made tea with it. In fact, you don’t think he’s ever taken a sip out of the cup before throwing it away.

“Then I’ll be adding a grande boiled water to my order,” you tell Emily and thank her before she moves on to the next person in line.

You wait to the side for your food and see Jaime standing there too. He’s wearing a backpack and a faded college sweatshirt thrown over his scrubs, and you’re reminded of how many years left of school you have before you can even call yourself a doctor. You wave to him, and he pulls an earbud out from his ear with a sleepy smile.

“Hey, what’s up?” he greets you.

“Nothing much, just grabbing something to eat before the day starts. I’m surprised to see you here though. What happened to morning rounds?”

Jaime lets out what you can only discern as a mix between a hollowed laugh and a groan and tells you about forgetting his coffee at home. “Don’t even get me started on this morning. My car died on me, so I had to get an Uber. Lo and behold, there weren’t any Ubers around either, so ya boy eventually took not just a taxi, but a taxi and the train. By the time I got here, I realized my coffee was still on the counter at home, and so now I’m here.”

Damn, and you thought mornings were rough for you.

“Sorry to hear that! Did you get in trouble for being late?”

“I called Doctor Cullen myself and told him what was happening. He was so understanding, god bless, so I’m in the clear for now.

At the mention of the doctor, your thoughts instantly go back to blond tresses and a brilliant smile you already know you’ll miss when you leave the hospital for the last time today.

“Yeah, he’s pretty great, isn’t he?” you say a little too dreamily. Jaime gives you a knowing look and you rein it back in, hoping you haven’t exposed yourself already.

“You know, I think he’s going to miss you the most when you leave.” You don’t even get the chance to react when Jaime continues on, “Don’t get me wrong, Lily and I will definitely miss having you around, but the man really took a liking to you a lot faster than he did with us.”

“What do you mean?”

“He always kept us at an arm’s length before you came around. All of that personal stuff you get out of him would have taken him weeks to tell us before, and that’s if we’re lucky. He just seems more comfortable around you,” Jaime shrugs. His coffee is then called out, cutting off anything he wanted to say next. “That’s my cue. I’ll see you later!”

You take a moment to mull over what Jaime said. From your perspective, Doctor Cullen has treated you exactly the same way he does with everyone else. You don’t dare to over think what Jaime could be saying – over thinking never leads to anything good. And yet, the damage is done. The seed has been planted and now you can’t help but wonder about what made you stand out to the doctor.

Your own order is called, and you’re pulled from your thoughts with the smell of warm food.

Now armed with two beverages and a pastry bag sandwiched between your fingers, you make your way to a nearby table to wait for Doctor Cullen. Your wait is soon cut short though, as you see him walking towards you out of your peripheral vision. The clouds shift and the sun shines through the windows again. Its golden rays pass over the doctor, and for a second, you swear you could see him shimmering in the sunlight.

You squint strangely and blink a few times. Get it together, you tell yourself. Over thinking is clearly playing some weird psychological tricks on your eyes, and you still needed to be on your A-game.

“Hey you,” he flashes that familiar smile once more when reaching the table you are settled at. “You’re early today.”

“I am. It even gave me the chance to get you your water.” You hand him the cup with a smirk, having made sure to put a sleeve on it earlier because unlike Doctor Cullen, you actually have hands that hold the risk of being burnt.

“Ah, I see Emily has divulged one of my secrets with you. Thank you, Y/N, you really didn’t have to.”

“It’s nothing,” you insist. Seriously, water is free at Starbucks. “Think of it as a small thank you present. It’s the least I could do for the amazing surgeon that let me follow him around for the week.”

“Hmm, I think you may have meant the amazing, extremely kind, highly skilled, and not to mention, quite dashing–”

“Okay! No need to flatter yourself,” you laugh, trying your best to refrain from rolling your eyes. In all honesty, you can’t describe him any better. Add in attractive, intelligent, compassionate, way too humble sometimes, and it would be the perfect recipe to recreate another Doctor Cullen.

From there on, your daily routine at the hospital continues without a hitch. It’s a morning filled with back to back surgeries and question after question thrown at you from the doctor. There is no doubt that he is keeping you on your toes – literally and figuratively. You have to admit though, you are pretty proud of yourself for being able to answer the majority of his questions.

Your feet swing aimlessly while you spin around in a padded chair in Doctor Cullen’s office. Your laptop is open on his desk, displaying a blank document that’s meant to be your personal statement. It has been a little over an hour since he left you here to attend a mandatory meeting and you are starting to get antsy.

Aside from several stacks of files and other various papers, the desk lacks the small trinkets you would expect to see. As a matter of fact, the office itself is surprisingly void of anything personal. There aren’t any pictures of family, friends, pets, not even of a possible wife. There are no decorations on the wall either, and if it weren’t for the leather briefcase leaning against the side of the desk, you’d never believe this office belonged to him. No wonder he spends as much time as possible outside of this dismal room.

As you continue spinning in the chair, you bring up a paper fortune teller made earlier from a sticky note. You choose a color, two subsequent numbers, and flip open the flap to reveal the fortune.

Brunch date with Dr. Cullen.

The things you do to kill time. Your friends would never let you live this down if they could see you now.

Just as you’re about to go another round with the fortune teller, the door opens and Doctor Cullen walks in. The fortune teller goes flying out of your hands and onto the floor next to you as you jump in surprise and halt the spinning.

“Sorry about the wait, Y/N. I’m afraid the meeting took longer than expected,” he says, his words laced with a hint of bitterness. Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice you nearly jumping out of your skin. Not wanting to draw attention to the fortune teller on the floor, you leave it there for now and start packing up your stuff.

“I presume you found a way to entertain yourself?”

“Kind of? I tried starting my personal statement again. It’s really not coming together,” you laugh dryly. Too preoccupied with turning off your laptop and putting it away, you don’t notice that Doctor Cullen walking around to the head of the desk where you are until it’s too late.

Oh crap, the fortune teller. Of course, he just has to notice it too and picks it up with a curious expression. You look up, and he’s standing there with it in his hand.

“Did you make this?”

You leap up from the chair and snatch it out of his hand before he can examine it any closer. There is no way in hell you’re letting him open it.

“Uh, yeah... It’s just something we used to make in elementary school – nothing special!” You try to play it off as cool as possible and slip the fortune teller into the small trash can underneath his desk. “So what’s next on the schedule?”

He takes a moment before answering you. You see his eyes study the way your fingers nervously fidgets with a loose thread on your shirt. He seemingly brushes off the interaction that occurred and responds, “Pre-op. I believe this one will be much different than the others you’ve observed this week.”

“What’s different about it?” you ask. Doctor Cullen starts to leave and holds the door open for you.

“You’ll see.” You don’t have to look at him to know he’s smirking.

He shuts the door and you start walking towards to the surgical department when a hand abruptly pulls you back just a little too hard. You trip over your own feet in the process and in some miraculous, but also really unlucky, sadistic, cruel-of-the-universe sort of way, land in Doctor Cullen’s arms. Goosebumps form up your arms where he’s holding you, and you can’t tell whether it’s from the temperature difference or the fact that your face is only an inch away from his chest.

You are absolutely mortified to say the least. Heat begins crawling up your cheeks and if there was a witness, they would have seen you quite literally jump out of the doctor’s arms.  

“I’m so sorry, Doctor Cullen! I didn’t mean to trip and fall and–”

“No, no, please, Y/N. It was of no fault of yours. I admit, I wholly underestimated the extent of my strength in that moment.” You stare at him, still dismayed at what happened, but it seems you aren’t the only one feeling like a deer in the headlights. “Can you find it in yourself to forgive me?” he asks, smiling meekly.

“It’s fine, these things happen. We’re only human after all, right?”

“...Right.” There’s a moment of silence that goes on for longer than you prefer, and you can’t help but feel like you’re the punchline of some inside joke. You don’t dwell on it though. There’s really only so much social embarrassment you can handle in one day. “Now, if there aren’t any more near-accidents,” he points in the opposite direction and says, “we’re headed to the children’s hospital.”

Oh.

[leafs-lover]

I wish you were here

A/N: This was requested. I thought about making this a fluff piece, but had a change of heart and re-wrote half of it. I just have a thing for Freddie, and not going to apologize for it ;)

Also I am really bad at coming up with titles

Summary: After a stressful couple of weeks apart Fred surprises you.

Warnings: Smut, swearing, NSFW

“Hey babe” you mumble into the phone. You look to your clock on your bedside table 4:17 is illuminated on the screen.

“Hey how’s it going?” he asks as you rub your eyes open.

“Good, just lying in bed” you say yawning.

“You sound tired” he says through the phone.

“Yeah most people are at 4am” you joke.

“Oh shoot. I’m sorry babe I didn’t even realize. Why did you answer?”

“We have been pretty busy, haven’t had much time to chat” you explain.

Fred returned to Denmark almost 8 weeks ago and you weren’t able to go with him due to the pandemic. You don’t have enough vacation days left; you would only have a couple days in Denmark.

You had only started dating in January, and when the NHL paused in March Fred tried to return to Denmark but the borders had closed prior to the pause. When Auston offered for Fred to quarantine in Arizona, Fred asked your thoughts on it.

If he stayed you would have to quarantine together otherwise you wouldn’t get to see him at all. That would have meant after only being together for 7 weeks you would temporarily move into his condo, and spend every second together for who knew how long. Neither of you really wanted to do that, it would be a lot of pressure on a new relationship so he opted to go to Arizona.

You hadn’t talked about labels, and didn’t know what to expect. While he was gone Fred would facetime with you once or twice a week, and you exchanged texts almost daily. He constantly complained about Auston’s terrible taste in TV shows, you complained about your roommate’s terrible attempt at baking.

You didn’t anticipate being in contact with Fred that much, but he always carved time to talk with you, he even sent you flowers a couple times and ordered you dinner from your favourite restaurant. Neither of you thought it would be almost 3 months before Fred would return to Canada.

But when he finally did, you were the first person he saw. You had just over 3 weeks together before he had to enter the bubble, and you spent much of that time together. It was so nice to have Fred back, cuddled up on the couch relaxing with him. When you finally saw him you melted into his touch, and your relationship felt like it had been catapulted forward instead of back even with the time apart.

When he went into the bubble, you didn’t expect to see him again until September, you wanted to see him but you hoped it would be three months, but it ended up being less than three weeks. He carried so much of the strain of that loss on himself, and you tried to tell him it was a team effort. The weight isn’t his alone, but the media and a lot of the fans had a different opinion. Everyone was calling for him to be traded, if the disappointing end to the season wasn’t enough that didn’t help.

He spent a couple weeks back in Toronto, but you could tell he was defeated and needed to get out. He needed to get away from the media, the rumours and spend time relaxing with his family. Fred tried to fight you on it, he wanted to stay and spend time with you. Obviously you did too, but you knew he needed this.

When he left the NHL had hoped on a December start to the season, meaning Fred would be coming back in October or early November. But as the date for the season got pushed so did his return date. You had some late nights at work, and with the time change it made it hard to talk all the time, so when you had the opportunity you took it. Leading you to this 4am phone call on a Saturday morning.

“Go back to bed skat, we can talk later” Fred says into the phone.

“No Freddie, we barely talked this week. Now that I have you on the phone I don’t want to hang up” you whine causing Fred to laugh.

“Okay, but if you get too tired Kære let me know. I don’t have any plans today so we can talk later.”

”I’m just going to make some coffee” you say getting out of bed and heading to your kitchen. ”I only planned on getting some groceries later so I can take a nap later if i want.” You start scooping the beans into the coffee maker, opting for a large pot due to the time.

”Wish I was there for your nap” Fred says to you.

”Mmm same. You are perfect for napping with” you respond.

”Oh yeah, why’s that?”

”Because you are perfect for cuddling with. I just fit perfectly in your arms, and you are like a pillow and a blanket in one.”

Fred laughs into the phone “you just use me for my body eh?”

“Well can you blame me?” you joke walking back to your bed with your mug in hand. “No I don’t actually, I mean it’s definitely nice –“

“Nice? My body is nice? That’s what you use to describe a haircut” he jokes.

“Obviously it’s much better than nice. I just meant it’s nice that you have that body, but I wouldn’t care if you didn’t. That’s not why I’m with you though.”

“Obviously not if you just think it’s nice” he mumbles jokingly. “How was your week?”

“It was so long, I had to stay late almost every night, and there was 3 nights I didn’t leave until after 9. My boss actually wanted me to work today but I had to say no. I felt like I was getting sick from lack of sleep, so it’s nice to have the weekend off.”

“You work so hard you deserve the time off” he says to you.

“Yeah, I have a couple vacation days left, maybe I’ll take a long weekend or something.”

“Yeah you should do that, don’t want to get run down working so much” Fred replies.

“But what would I do? I wouldn’t have enough days to fly to another province. And parts of Ontario are shutting down” you explain.

“Have a staycation, I’m sure a couple days doing nothing would be nice” he replies.

“Yeah I guess” you say.

“So how are my plants doing, kill them yet?”

“Nope, they are still alive, but I should get over there today to water them” you respond.

“When you say alive, do you mean alive and thriving or clinging to life?”

“Uhh, somewhere in the middle” you say causing Fred to laugh.

You continue to talk for another hour; you curl up in your bed wrapped tightly under your duvet. You can feel your eyes getting heavy, but you try to stay awake to talk to him. You are unsuccessful and end up dozing off.

When you return to work on Monday you talked to your boss who approved for you to take Friday and Monday off work, giving you a four day weekend. You are excited for your days off, but you have to get to end of day Thursday. Your week is filled with multiple zoom calls and long days, you are actually surprised your boss is okay with you taking time off.

When Wednesday comes you are completely drained. You had multiple meetings, angry clients and have to finish a project before you take off for the weekend. You were so busy you didn’t even notice you hadn’t had lunch until it was almost 3.

It’s almost 9pm when you walk through your door with some papers and dinner in hand when you hear your phone ring. Your apartment is dark and empty, your roommate away at her parents. You drop everything on your table, answering your phone as you head to your room to change.

“Hello?” you say not even looking at the caller-id, turning on your bedside lamp.

“Hi min kære, how are you?”

“Hey Freddie” you put him on speaker phone to change out of your work clothes. “I’m good, got home not too long ago.”

“Another late day eh?” he asks.

“Yeah I was trying to get my project done before my holidays tomorrow” you explain.

“Finish it?” he asks as you move to the kitchen to start eating dinner.

“Almost, should only take a couple hours tomorrow.” You look to your stove and see the time 9:09 illuminated on the screen. “Fred why are you calling so late; it’s like 3am there.”

“We haven’t talked since the weekend, and you haven’t sent many texts the past couple days” he says lightly.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’ve just been so busy with work. I’ve been having late days and have basically gone straight to bed. I also didn’t want to call you so late, I know you had a golfing trip one day” you begin to explain.

“Oh I know babe, you don’t have to explain. I just thought you could use a pick me up” Fred says to you.

“Honestly I would love one. My week has been brutal and it’s only Wednesday. Can’t wait for tomorrow” you say sitting at your table. You didn’t realize how stressed you had been until you sat down and thought about the week. The angry clients and long hours have really taken a toll on you. Stopping to think about things brings a lump to your throat, as you feel your eyes begin to well up.

“(Y/N) you there?” you hear through the phone. You zoned out trying to not cry, you thought you could wait until you got off the phone with Fred to break down. You were wrong, and now you are trying to stifle your tears so Fred doesn’t hear you, but are unsuccessful.

“Skat, what’s wrong?” he asks hearing your quiet sobs through the phone.

“I don’t know” you cry into the phone. “I don’t think I realized how stressed I am, and tired. Just everything. It’s a lot.”

You move to your bed and crawl under your duvet, wrapping yourself tightly into a cocoon. Fred stays on the other end; he doesn’t say anything for a while, letting you cry in silence. After a couple minutes your eyes begin to get heavy, as your sobs have stopped.

“I wish you were here” you say lightly.

“Me too kære” he says. He stays on the line while you lay in bed, not hanging up until he hears your soft breaths through the phone.        

“You should go” your boss says poking her head in your office at 3pm. “Start your weekend a couple hours earlier” she says smiling at you.

“You sure? I don’t want –“

“(Y/N) this place won’t fall apart without you, enjoy your time off.” With that your boss walks away, you shut down your computer and grab your jacket. You reach to grab your phone and see the blinking light. You unlock it to a text from Freddie.

F: Don’t forget to water my plants

Y/N: I watered them Monday…

F: That’s 3 days, you trying to kill them? ;)

You laugh at his message. Instead of responding you decide to go to his condo and send him a picture of you watering his plants. You jump in your car and head to his place. You park in the underground lot and make your way to the elevator. You walk down his hall and unlock his door when you hear music playing in the kitchen.

You don’t remember even listening to music when you were last here. Did someone break in? But who breaks in and plays music? You set your bag down and look around not noticing that anything missing or broken.  You walk through the living room and hear clattering in the kitchen and panic sets in someone is in here.

If you weren’t so panicked you would have noticed the bag in the living room, and the pair of shoes by the front door. You hear footsteps in the kitchen and turn around to run and hide when you feel hands on your hips.

They spin you around and pull you in tight to their chest and wrap their arms around your back. You go to push yourself off the person when you smell the familiar cologne.

“You’re off early” he mumbles kissing your head.

“Fred?” you whisper in disbelief, looking up at the person in front of you.

Your eyes meet his golden brown eyes, and red hair. You bring your hands up and stroke his beard “what are you doing here?”

Instead of answering you he smiles and kisses you. Your hand tangles into his hair when he pulls back slightly “I missed you” he mumbles against your lips.

“I missed you too” you say smiling. Without warning you jump, Fred catches you and carries you into the kitchen setting you on the counter.

“Can’t believe you’re here” you say pulling him to you for a kiss.

“I know, I didn’t know when I was going to come back but after last night I knew I had to come see you. Hearing you cry broke my heart, but the worst part was not being able to do anything about it.” He brushes a piece of your hair behind you ear “I booked a flight right after you fell asleep.”

He leans in to place a soft kiss on your lips, you snake your hands into his hair, stroking his beard on the way. You pull him closer, locking him in for a passionate kiss. You don’t want to ever be apart from him again, and you groan slightly when Fred pulls away from you.

“I wasn’t expecting you for a little bit longer. I wanted to have dinner ready when you got here to try and salvage the life from my plants” Fred jokes looking over at his wilting plant on his table.

You laugh “yeah sorry about that. I was doing a good job at it, then work got crazy and I didn’t get over here as often as I’d like” you explain to him.

Fred kisses your neck “its fine, I didn’t expect them to be alive” he mumbles.

“Rude” you say turning your neck to allow him more access as he peppers kisses. Fred laughs before walking away from you. He walks over to the cupboard and pulls out two wine glasses and pours you each a glass.

He walks back and hands you a glass, he puts his other hand beside you on the counter.

“When did you get in?” you ask.

“About 2 hours ago” he replies kissing your cheek. “8 weeks is too long to be away from you.” You take a sip from your wine and turn your neck to allow him more access.

Fred runs a hand up your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. “We’ve gone longer than that Fred” you whisper.

“Yeah because the border was closed” he whispers kissing your collarbone.

“Wait it’s still closed, how did you get in?” you ask pulling away to look at him.

“I have a Visa to play on the Leafs, it allowed me back in. Should have come back sooner” he mumbles kissing down your neck again. His hands lift your legs; he places his hands under them pulling you closer to him.

“Why didn’t you?” you ask running your hand up and down his biceps as Fred sucks on your neck.

“I’m a stupid man” he mumbles his hands stroking up and down your thighs, nipping on your neck. You moan lightly, placing your wine glass on the counter. Fred moves his hands to the back of your thigh and hoists you up. You wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you down the hall to his bedroom.

He kicks his bedroom door open and reaches to the wall to turn on the light. He gently places you on the bed, his mouth attaches to yours as he hovers over top of you. Your hands gently rake through his beard, as his tongue swirls in your mouth. His hand slides up your shirt gently, his thumb pressing circles onto the skin of your stomach.

Fred grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it over your head; he sits up on his knees and removes your pants from you leaving you in your underwear.

“This is nice” Fred says taking in your matching red set, his finger lightly grazes the fabric.

“It’s new” you respond “thought of you when I bought it.”

Fred grins, stroking a finger over your clothed core. He quirks an eyebrow at you when he feels the wetness that has accumulated “it’s been a while” you say smiling at him.

“Let me fix that” he says pulling your underwear down your legs. He lies on his stomach, hooking your legs over his shoulders. He stares into your glistening pussy for a minute; his beard rubs against your thighs his breath makes you quiver.

He finally attaches his tongue to you, licking up your juices. You moan at the contact, his tongue is still dancing outside your folds. He groans at the taste of you, before he pushes his tongue inside you. You throw your head back into the pillow as his tongue slips inside your walls.

He brings his hand up to your clit and begins to press circles into it, as his tongue slowly licks the inside of your walls. Your hands slide down to his shoulder and you squeeze them firmly as he keeps fucking his tongue in and out of you.

“Freddie” you moan as his tongue continues to press deep inside you.

You grip his shoulder and attempt to pull him up to you. You feel Fred chuckle against you, but he doesn’t stop, pressing his thumb harder into your clit.

“Babe” you groan pulling harder on his shirt “I need you.”

Fred pulls back slightly staring at you with eyes dark from lust “you have me smuk” he chuckles. He attaches his lips to your clit and sucks on it, a fuck falls from your lips. Your legs begin to squirm slightly at the feeling.

“Fred…Fred…Fuck…I” you can’t form a coherent thought as he slips two fingers inside you, sucking on your sensitive bud.

His fingers begin to pump in and out of you as he pulls his mouth from you and begins sucking on your hip. He alternates between sucking and biting on your hip. Your hip arches off the bed as he continues to pump his fingers inside you.

“This what you want babe” he asks bringing his other hand to your bra, massaging your breast.

You bring a hand down to his wrist and clamp it. He stops moving his wrist and looks into your eyes.

“I need you Fred, I can’t wait” you say panting. Fred grins and slips his fingers out of you, and quickly pulls his shirt over his head. You reach up and grip his neck pulling him down to you. You lock lips with him, your hand slides up and down his firm bicep. Fred slides a hand under your back and unclasps your bra, freeing your breasts.

His firm shirtless body is pressed against you; you can feel his erection straining through the fabric of his clothes. You palm over his pants lightly before sliding your hand around to his back. His mouth leaves you and slides down to your breast and begins sucking on it, he brings a hand up and starts rolling your other nipple through his fingers, pinching it slightly. Your hands slide down his back and reach his sweat pants; you begin to push them down his large thighs.

Fred pulls away and pushes his pants and boxers down his legs and onto the floor. He falls on top of you and returns his mouth to yours; you roll and push him onto his back. You straddle him and begin grinding against his hard cock, desperate to have him inside you.

You hear Fred mumble in Danish as you continue to rock your hips against him. You fall forward kissing Fred, his hand tangles into your hair locking you in a passionate kiss. You reach over to the side table and pull a condom out.

You pull back and tear the foil, sliding it onto his hard member. You give him a few strokes before you rise up and line him up with your entrance. Fred brings his hands to your hips; you slowly start to drop down on him.

“Fuck” you mumble at the feeling of Fred inside of you, your hand goes onto his abs and you brace yourself. Fred is longer than any man you have been with, you had started to get used to his size but then he left to go to Denmark. You know Fred will hit areas nobody has ever hit before, but you just need to adjust.

“You okay smuk?” Fred asks looking up at you.

You keep dropping yourself down on him “yeah” you whine “just been a bit.”

He chuckles pulling your head down to his. You moan at the change of angle before Fred kisses you lightly.

“Don’t worry, take your time. I’m going to get you used to it soon” he smirks kissing you.

You haven’t taken all of him but you rise up and drop down on him. You moan into the kiss, Fred’s hand holding you to him, his other hand rests on your hip. You pull away from the kiss, Fred sucks on your bottom lip as you rise up and drop back down. Fred bottoms out in you, your ass hits against his thighs as you thrust on him.

“Ahh” you moan feeling him hit the deep spot inside you. Fred is still under you allowing you time to set the pace and get comfortable with him. You continue slowly thrusting on him, pushing yourself up. Your hand returns to his abs as you increase the pace.

Fred snaps his hips and pushes in you, as you drop onto him. His hands are on your hip, gripping you tightly as he helps guide you, keeping the slow pace. Your head falls back as you thrust on him; Fred slowly increases the pace under you.

You push into his stomach as your pace increases, rocking your hips against him. You bounce on top of Fred, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease. He brings a hand up to your breast, cupping it as you ride him. He rolls your nipple through his fingers, as your nails dig into his firm stomach muscles. Your hand slides down his treasure line, pressing hard into his groin as you feel your high approaching.

“You gonna cum baby?” Fred asks noticing you are chasing your high. He squeezes your breast hard, pinching your nipple in the process. You hum in response unable to form words. Fred releases your breast and slides his hand down to your clit to press circles into it.

“Yeah, cum on me baby. I want to feel you, feel you’re cum drip down me” he says pressing harder into your sensitive bud. His hips snap and the pace is fast, you are a mess on top of him. Sweat is dripping down Fred’s stomach; you can feel it under your hand.

“Fuck Fred” you scream out, your orgasm is close. With every thrust Fred his your g-spot, your skin flapping has filled the room, followed by occasional curse words. You notice Fred becoming erratic under you as you continue bouncing on him.

Your orgasm crashes over you, the most intense one you have had in a while. You clench around him, your walls tighten, and you feel it in your stomach. Your eyes roll back into your head as Fred continues to thrust inside of you. Your juices dripping down his cock.

He strains to keep going, allowing you to finish your orgasm. As you finally come around you feel Fred still under you. You collapse onto his chest, his arms wrap around you. You lie on him, both your breaths slowly return to normal.

A couple minutes later Fred rolls to be on top of you, he kisses you briefly before heading to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. He pulls on his boxers and throws a t-shirt to you. You smile and pull it over your head; Fred climbs into bed and pulls you into his arms.

“I was going to make you dinner, but I think I’m too tired now” Fred jokes, stroking up and down your arm. “You okay with ordering in?”

You look up and into his golden brown eyes “sounds perfect” you respond. Fred leans down and kisses you, wrapping you tightly into his arms.

“So you should spend your long weekend here with me” Fred mumbles against your lips.

You smile and stroke his beard “I don’t plan on leaving; I want to spend as much time with you as possible. When are you heading back to Denmark?” you ask lightly, not really wanting to know the answer.

“I’m not” Fred replies. You look directly into his eyes “not unless you come with me” he says lightly kissing you again.   

[xofanfics]

Selfish - Part 14

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Genre: angst, fluff, SMUT

Pairing: Jun x Reader / Chan x Reader

Word Count: 7.3k

Summary: You love them both and you’re torn. But…what if you didn’t have to choose? Jun was scrolling through hotel listings on Jeju Island. He’d decided to surprise you with a trip to Jeju Island. What better way to prove himself to you than to spoil you a little bit? As the holidays came and went, February was here before he knew it. It was the perfect time to go on a trip. And he knew that you could use a little rest and relaxation.

Jun bought two plane tickets that night, as the prices went down a bit. He was excited to spend some time away and alone with you. You’d forgiven him but he knew that he was still sort of on your shit list. If something else went wrong, he wasn’t sure what you’d do. After all the two of you had been through with Malai and the arguing with Chan and all, things had been a little rocky.

He’d spend the next couple of days planning the trip, deciding some fun things to do while you were there. He wanted things to be perfect and he had all these ideas. He wanted to take you to see all the sites—the waterfalls, the beaches, all the beautiful things nature had to offer. You’d forget about all the stress of being at home and just enjoy the vacation with him.

As he scrolled through hotel listings, you called him. “Hello?” 

“Hey, babe,” you said. “What are you doing?”

“I’m just on the computer browsing. You?”

“I just got out of the shower...”

“Oh really? What are you wearing?”

“Nothing,” you said. “Wanna see?”

He smirked. “I can’t say no to that.” A moment later, he got a notification on his phone that you’d sent him a photo. You were nude, laying on your towel. You took the picture in the mirror above your dresser, across from your bed. “Wow. You look amazing, baby. I can’t wait to get my hands on you…”

He spent almost an hour on the phone with you and in that time, he found the perfect hotel. It wasn’t a huge suite like he would’ve wanted but it had a king sized bed, a loveseat, desk, and a huge flat screen tv. Not to mention the beautiful view. And even though it wasn’t summertime, it had a really nice pool outside. Luckily though, there was an indoor pool and a spa that you could take advantage of. He’d definitely book a couples’ massage with you, so you could both get all those knots of tension out of your systems. 

Jun was getting excited just thinking of all the fun you could have together. Lately, there hadn’t been much to look forward to so this trip was just what he needed. He was pumped to spend some time with you and get you all to himself. It had been a long time since he’d been on vacation and you hadn’t been on one either. So, he was more than happy to solve that problem. 

*

As Jun went up the train station escalator, he could hardly contain his excitement. Everyone had a long weekend due to the Korean New Year. Jun was glad because he planned to tell you the surprise today. The two of you had planned to have dinner together tonight and it gave him the perfect opportunity to tell you about his surprise.

You were waiting for him in the lobby of the building you worked in when he walked in. He figured that you must’ve gotten off a little early. As he walked toward you, you didn’t see him. He smiled at the sight of you in the lounge chair, smiling at whatever you were looking at on your phone. 

“Hi beautiful,” he said, taking you by surprise. “Did you get out a little early?”

You smiled, grabbing your bag and standing up to greet him. “Hey babe. Yeah, honestly everyone was ready to have a head start to this weekend. Everyone practically ran out of the office once our boss said we could leave.”

He kissed you on your forehead. “Nice.”

The two of you walked out of the building together, starting toward the restaurant that you wanted to go to nearby. On the walk there, you told him about your day and how the restaurant had really good steak and that it comes out perfect every time. He loved how animated you got when you spoke and how your eyes lit up with excitement. 

You arrived at the restaurant a few minutes later and were seated right away. It was more crowded than it would usually be on a Thursday evening because it was more like a Friday evening since everyone would be off of work tomorrow. 

“I come here with my coworkers sometimes for their lunch special,” you said, flipping through the menu. 

Your order was taken and you had your drinks within five minutes. Over the red wine, Jun said, “I have a surprise for you, babe.”

Your eyes lit up again, turning from your drink. “What is it?”

“We’re going to Jeju tomorrow morning,” he said. “I wanted to take you on a trip since we have off.”

“Wow,” you said, smiling even wider, “that sounds amazing. Are you serious?”

“Believe it, baby,” he said, reaching for your hand.

You looked down at the table for a few seconds before you said, “I have an idea, but it’s kind of crazy.”

“How crazy?”

“Well do you think that we could ever spend time together? Like the three of us?”

Jun nodded. “Well, yeah.”

“Well, what if he came with us?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you said. You cleared your throat. “I mean, we can wait another time if you want, of course...but I just wanted to put the idea out there. It could be good for us.”

To be honest, Jun wanted this trip to just be for the two of you, without Chan tagging along. The last thing he wanted was for you to think he had a problem with this arrangement or that he was being greedy. Even though he didn’t want to, he said, “Yeah, that’s fine with me,” because he didn’t want you to be disappointed. The reality was that his reply was the furthest thing from the truth. 

And it brought a smile to your face. “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna give him a call and see if he can still get a flight. Can you forward me the flight info?”

He pursed his lips together as he went into his email and forwarded the flight itinerary to you. With a quick “Thanks, babe,” you were gone. You went into the hallway outside of the bathrooms and took out your phone. 

“Hello?” Chan answered.

“Hey,” you said, “I have good news and bad news.”

“Okay, what’s the bad news?”

“I don’t think we’re going to be able to have our sleepover this weekend…”

“Why not?”

“I’m going to Jeju with Jun this weekend and I wanted to know if you wanted to...come with us.”

Chan paused for a moment; you didn’t blame him. The three of you had been through a lot in this relationship and you wondered if it was too soon to be together like this. Finally, he said, “That sounds like fun...”

“Do you really think you two can be in the same room together...with me?”

“I don’t see why not. I mean, it’s bound to happen eventually, right?”

You gave him the flight number and, thankfully, he was able to book the flight. And from the looks of it, he was a couple rows behind where you and Jun would be sitting. 

“I’m all booked,” he said, after checking and re-checking the reservation. He chuckled. “I should get packing.”

*

Chan heard a knock at the door, interrupting him from his packing. It was Jason, who had arrived with a box of pizza. He sighed and went back over to his luggage. Confused, Jason sat down on the floor, putting the pizza on the table.

“What’s with you?” he said. He pointed to the luggage. “Are you going somewhere?”

“To Jeju,” Chan replied. 

“Ooh that sounds like fun. I wish I was going somewhere. My family is right here in Seoul so there’s not really anywhere to go.”

“There’s only but so much fun I can have,” he said, rolling his eyes, as he threw socks into his suitcase. “Jun booked a trip for them this weekend and Y/N invited me along but it feels like it was more pity than anything else…”

Jason cursed under his breath as he opened the pizza box. “Maybe he wants to make peace. Maybe this is him putting his foot forward and trying to make things better.”

“On my weekend? The bastard had the nerve to book this trip when I was supposed to spend the weekend with Y/N! He would do something like this! He had her to himself last week!” 

He kicked the suitcase out of frustration, startling his friend. Just when things seemed like they were looking up, Jun just had to do something to sabotage what they had. 

“Well, Y/N will be there. She won’t let him get carried away.”

Chan sighed and sat down, grabbing a slice of pizza. “I don’t know, maybe I should’ve thought this over more. It feels like I’m third wheeling with my own girlfriend.”

Chan loved the idea of going on a trip with you. Since he was always busy with work and school, he rarely had enough time for the two of you to have a weekend getaway. But, for once, he was free all weekend and the cafe was closed for the holiday. And even better, his boss still paid him for the days he had off. He’d dubbed it a “New Year’s gift.” For once, things had been aligned so perfectly that it was hard to believe. And he planned on spending it with you since it was, in fact, his weekend to spend with you. 

But now the plans had been rearranged. You called him asking if he wanted to go and he didn’t want to disappoint you, so he agreed to the plan before thinking it through. Would it be a good time? He was struggling to trust Jun in the first place; he wouldn’t be able to keep his cool if he hurt you again. On the other hand, it was something that would have to happen sooner or later. In this polyamorous relationship, the three of you would eventually have to come together sometime. It couldn’t always be separate relationships that were somehow still one.

“Is she usually fair though? Does it seem like she favors him over you?”

“I’m not sure,” he said, mouth full. He swallowed and added, “I just gotta make it until Sunday. That shouldn’t be too hard, right?”

Chan sure as hell hoped so.

*

The three of you arrived at the airport a little sooner than expected. You checked in your bags and went through security with no issues. You arrived at the designated gate with an hour to spare. Chan sat down, leaning against his neck pillow. He looked tired; he’d mentioned how he stayed up a bit late trying to finish one of his assignments so that he wouldn’t have to stress about it on Sunday before classes started back up again on Monday.

You went to the bathroom briefly and, when you came back, Chan was fast asleep. You smiled at the sight of him and the fact that his mouth was slightly ajar.

Jun chuckled and said, “He passed out right away. Do you wanna get something to eat since we have time?”

You nodded and went to shake Chan. “Babe, do you want to eat?” Chan opened his eyes ever so slightly before groaning and turning his head away from you.

Jun said, “Just leave him. He’s pretty tired, isn’t he? We can just get a sandwich for him or something.” You nodded, figuring that you should probably let him catch up on his sleep. It was early and you’d get to Jeju a little after one o’clock. If the three of you were going to do anything fun, he’d need to save his energy. 

As you walked to the toast stall you passed earlier, you said, “So what did you have planned for us?”

“Well, I was thinking today since we’re getting there a little later, we could take it easy and explore the city a little. There was a teahouse I wanted to visit. Then we can relax a little and get dinner together. How does that sound?”

“It sounds good...and thank you for planning all of this.”

“Anything for you,” he said.

You arrived at the toast stall and ordered toast for the three of you. Jun was surprised that you knew exactly what he would want and Chan, too. He loved that about you—you paid close attention to details. Even when he thought you weren’t listening or paying attention, you were. He loved you so much and he wished that this trip could be for just the two of you, but he also remembered that he signed up for this. He was the one that agreed to this and, while he had the right to change his mind, he didn’t want to lose you. He figured that this was better than nothing and he wanted to keep you in his life in whatever way he could. 

When you got back to the gate, Chan was awake and playing a game on his phone. He smiled upon seeing you walking toward him. 

“We got breakfast,” you said, handing him his bag. “Toast with extra egg.”

He smiled. “You’re amazing, you know that...”

“I would’ve ordered you extra egg, too,” mumbled Jun as he sat down in his seat next to you. 

The three of you just laughed. You were grateful. Maybe things were looking up for the relationship. There wasn’t as much tension between Jun and Chan today. You didn’t know if it was because they’d both matured a lot within the last couple weeks or if it was just because it was early in the morning. Either way, you were grateful and you hoped that the rest of the trip would go this smoothly.

Before you knew it, it was time to board. As the three of you inched along in the aisle, Jun turned to you and said, “Okay. Row twenty-one is right there.”

You said, “Why don’t you and Chan sit together? You could get to know each other a little better. I don’t mind sitting by myself. I can just sit where Chan was going to sit.”

Jun started, “B-”

Chan smiled. “Yeah, we should get to know each other better.”

Jun wasn’t thrilled to be sitting next to Chan on the flight but thankfully it was only for about an hour. But over the course of the hour, things weren’t bad. There would probably always be at least a little tension between the two of them, since the relationship started out in a strange way. But things were actually okay.

Chan carried the conversation, at first. He asked Jun about the kinds of music he liked and then they talked about their families and some childhood memories and Chan told him about his life growing up in Jeju on a tangerine farm. Jun was almost surprised at how down to earth he was. He wasn’t snobby or any of the things that he’d assumed about him. He almost felt bad for thinking those things about him. The reality was that Chan was a good guy and he could see why you liked him in the first place. 

Chan said, “I told my mom that I was coming for the weekend. I was thinking that maybe tomorrow, if we have time, we could have dinner with my family.”

Jun nodded. “By chance, do they know...about us?”

Chan paused. To be honest, he’d only told his friends about the true relationship they were in. Of course, he’d told his parents that you were back together with him but he hadn’t told them that you were also dating Jun. How could he tell his parents something like that? They definitely wouldn’t approve and he had no idea how complicated it would be for them to understand something that was so complicated in itself. 

“Not exactly,” he answered.

Jun knew what that meant before Chan needed to explain further. Jun knew that he wouldn’t be able to go to have dinner with Chan’s family as your boyfriend. In this situation, Chan would be your boyfriend and Jun would be stuck playing the role of a friend, whether it was your friend or Chan’s. Either way, it was like playing pretend.

Jun had no right to feel upset by it because he was in the same predicament with his own family. They knew that you’d hit a rough patch and got back together, but they had no idea that you’d picked up an additional partner on the way back to each other. He hadn’t even told his older sister despite the fact that they were pretty close. 

Was this something to be ashamed of? Would this be something that could ever be accepted? Even though no one was exactly lying, there was a lot of information being withheld. Jun had no idea how the three of you could keep this up. For how much longer, realistically, could you keep it up?

*

You pushed open the hotel room door, exhausted from the walk you’d gone on. You got to see the surrounding areas near your hotel and went to the teahouse that Jun wanted to go to, trying and even buying some of the teas. And Chan showed you some of the places he liked to go as a kid. And you had some street foods and tried fresh grilled mackerel, which Jun enjoyed so much he got seconds. It had been a while since Chan had been able to come to Jeju and he had never gone with you before; you had broken up with him before he had the chance to bring you to his hometown. You watched him as his eyes lit up, picking up memories from his childhood.

So far, you liked Jeju a lot and the scenery was so beautiful and you got a lot of pictures. From what you could tell, Jun had a good time too. And he took a bunch of pictures with his new camera. And your boyfriends were also cordial in taking separate pictures with you, too. And then you asked a kind stranger to take pictures of the three of you, together. 

“I’m exhausted,” Jun said, plopping down on the couch.

“That was fun,” you said, putting down your purse. “Thanks for showing us around, Chan.”

“Of course,” he said. 

“I made a reservation at the steakhouse for seven. We have about two and a half hours until then,” he said.

You nodded. “Yeah, we can just hang out around here for a while.” 

Chan said, “I could use a warm cup of tea,” poking around the kitchenette. There were two packets of instant coffee and two tea bags, clearly not enough for the three of you. “Actually, I’ll go to the cafe downstairs. Y/N? Jun? Do you want something?”

Jun said, “Can you get me a matcha latte?”

You said, “Me too.”

Chan nodded and grabbed a key card. “Be back in a couple minutes.”

As Jun heard the door shut, he was relieved. Finally, he’d have a moment alone with you. You smiled before he had a chance to say anything and you sat next to him on the couch before he had a chance to call you over. He sat up, pulling you into his arms. You snuggled into his shoulder. You said, “Thank you for planning this trip. I can’t wait to get cute for dinner.”

“You always look cute, my love. Which dress did you bring?”

“I got this long sleeved black one,” you said. “I’d gotten it awhile ago but didn’t have a chance to wear it.”

“I’m sure you’ll look great,” he said, planting a kiss on your lips.

You stood up. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom…”

A few minutes later, Chan returned with the drinks. Jun was fast asleep on the couch, his legs sprawled out and his mouth slightly open. He heard water running in the bathroom and assumed that you were in there. He set Jun’s drink on the coffee table next to the couch, assuming he’d probably wake up in a few minutes. 

When you came out, Chan was sitting on the bed sipping on his tea. You sat next to him and he handed you your drink. “Thanks, baby.”

“No problem. Jun must be really tired, huh?”

You rested your head on Chan’s shoulder with a yawn. “Yeah. The first day of vacation always seems to be the hardest.” You glanced up at him. “Are you okay?”

He looked down at you, meeting your eyes. “Of course. I’m here with you.”

*

Jun’s eyes fluttered open about a half hour later. The room was darker than he remembered and as he glanced over to the window. The setting sun peeked through, shining on you and Chan asleep in the bed together. His heart dropped at the sight and jealousy pumped through his veins. 

He looked at the matcha latte, grabbing it and taking a sip. He was so annoyed he didn’t know what to do. What he really wanted to do was go over there, drag Chan out of the bed and possibly punch him in his stupid face. But this was his own fault. He had opened the door that allowed him to come on this trip with you anyway. He should’ve put his foot down when he had the chance. He’d just wanted the trip to be for the two of you and he didn’t have a problem with Chan doing the same in the future.

Was this selfish of him? Was this something he’d have to deal with for the duration of this relationship? Would the pangs of jealousy and frustration go away?

Matcha latte in hand, he decided to take a walk so that he could calm down a little. He knew that his anger and frustration would only boil over and spill into the relationship. The last thing he wanted was to upset you and especially not on a trip that was supposed to be relaxing for everyone. Although Jun felt anything but relaxed so far.

He went outside and started walking around aimlessly, no clear destination in sight. He just needed some air. He needed some time to himself, just to take a few deep breaths. 

Eventually, he started feeling more and more anxious as he walked back toward the hotel a few minutes later. His mind raced with irrational thoughts of the two of you in bed together. What if you were having sex right now, making a mess on the bed that the three of you were supposed to share tonight. 

He took out his phone, hoping that Taesik was free to talk for a few minutes. The phone rang four times before he answered. “Hello?”

“Hey, how’s day one of vacation?”

“He’s all over her! How am I third wheeling on a trip that I planned?”

“Who are you more upset at, Jun?”

Jun sucked his teeth. He didn’t need his friend on the other end of the phone call being reasonable. He let out a sigh. “I don’t know...I just know that they fell asleep in the bed and her head is on his shoulder and he’s holding her hand.”

“I dunno what to say,” said Taesik. “Maybe this was a bad idea…”

Deep down, Jun knew that the three of you had issues that you hadn’t resolved. Jun knew there were issues but he couldn’t pinpoint the exact problems. He wasn’t a professional and neither were you or Chan. The three of you were just struggling through the whole thing. Should you invest in couples’ counseling? Was this normal? Jun hated this concept; he had no idea what was right and what was wrong. Was it normal to feel jealousy in a polyamorous relationship? 

“Yeah,” he said, “maybe we’re not ready for this…” He heard the phone beep on the other end. Pulling his phone away from his ear, he saw that you were calling him. “She’s calling me…”

“Answer her,” said Taesik. “Call me if you need to vent. I hope everything goes okay tonight.”

“Thanks,” he replied. “Talk to you later.”

He clicked over to the other line, answering your call. “Baby, where’d you go?”

“I just got bored and came outside to watch the sunset,” he lied.

“Come back,” you said. “We should start getting ready. Chan is still asleep, so I’ll shower first.”

Jun said, “Okay, I’ll see you in a minute,” and the call was over. He headed upstairs to the hotel room, bracing himself and taking deep breaths to calm himself down. There was no reason for him to be angry. He had agreed to this arrangement, after all. He was in a relationship with you but so was Chan. And they needed to find a way to deal with it all.

When he got back, he heard the sink water running. Glancing over at the bed, he saw Chan was still asleep. He knocked on the door and you opened it, still dressed. You hadn’t gotten in the shower yet; he caught you just as you were washing your face. Finally, even if it was in the bathroom, he could have a moment alone with you. He stood behind you as you pat your face dry with the towel. 

“How was your walk?”

Jun nodded, wrapping his hands around your waist. “It was good. I’m better now that I’m back here with you,” he said, kissing your neck. “Mind if I join you in the shower?”

You raised your eyebrows at the suggestion and it also made you excited. “Yeah, why not?”

Jun watched as you peeled your clothes off slowly, teasing him. He’d be lying if he said his dick wasn’t throbbing in his pants at the sight of you. Taking off his own clothes, he never took his eyes off of you. And when you were completely bare before him, he pulled you closer to him and kissed you, hard. Your tongue found his, your naked bodies pressed together against the glass of the shower door. 

“I love you,” Jun mumbled against your lips. 

“I love you, too,” you answered, planting one last kiss on his lips. You followed Jun into the shower and you didn’t hesitate to start washing him up first. You took care to be gentle with him, turning him on. His lips parted as you massaged his balls and he let out a groan as your hand went up and down his shaft. Now, he was completely hard and his dick was throbbing with desire to bend you over and pound your pussy until you were screaming for more. 

He cursed under his breath as he got under the water and you helped him rinse the soap off of his body. He kissed you again and, as he did, he reached down to your clit. It caught you by surprise, making you gasp. He rubbed it harder and your lips parted with a moan. 

“Quiet, baby,” he whispered. “You don’t want to wake Chan up, do you?” He spun you around so that you were facing away from him, reaching down to rub your clit from the front. With his left hand he covered your mouth and with his right, he rubbed your clit. Jun enjoyed fucking around in the shower, even on a regular day. He loved seeing your wet body and how your pussy would end up like a river, your wetness flowing out and onto his fingers. 

He kept going and you squeezed your legs together as if you were trying to escape. Jun chuckled. “Don’t you want to come, baby?” With that, you parted your legs again, letting the pleasure take over. He felt the vibrations of your moans on his palm, but he held it there anyway. It turned him on to feel you struggling. He took your clit between his thumb and pointer finger, giving it a few light squeezes that drove you crazy. After, he dragged his fingers down your slit. Already, you were so wet. And he knew that it didn’t take you long to come like this.

He could feel you struggling, against his fingers. Your body was starting to twitch and he knew you were dangerously close to your orgasm. 

“Come for me, Y/N,” Jun whispered in your ear. 

Hearing his voice in your ear is what did it for you. You couldn’t take it anymore. You let go, trembling, shivering, and coming all over his fingers. And once you came down from your high, he kissed you once more.

*

“Are you almost ready to go?” Chan asked. His stomach was growling and you’d been prancing around the hotel room in your bra and underwear, scrambling to finish getting ready for the past ten minutes. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, stepping into your dress. “My makeup didn’t come out like I expected...Can you zip me?” Chan nodded as you walked over toward him. He zipped you up quickly, hoping that this was the last thing you had to do before the three of you headed to dinner. Thankfully Jun had pushed the reservation to 7:45 rather than 7:30 because of the chance you might be late.

“Okay, I’m ready,” you said, placing your hands on Jun’s shoulders as he sat on the couch. 

“Okay,” Jun said. “Let’s call a cab.”

Within fifteen minutes you arrived at the restaurant. Luckily, it wasn’t too far away from the hotel. Jun had chosen a nice restaurant because he wanted to treat you to a special dinner. Of course, he had to change the reservation to three people instead. And he’d be sharing dinner with not only you but with Chan too.

You entered the restaurant and your party was seated right away, in a booth. Thankfully it was one of those curved ones so that you didn’t have to choose who to sit next to or for the three of you to squeeze on one side. You sat in the middle, with a boyfriend at either side of you.

“This place is pretty nice,” said Jun, taking off his coat. “I know you don’t like restaurants that are too fancy, so this is a good in between.”

“Yeah,” you said. “This is perfect. I’m paying, by the way.”

“No,” Chan said. “You shouldn’t be the one to pay. I should pay, since there was this last minute change.”

Jun rolled his eyes when no one was looking. Jun had planned on paying and here Chan was being a goody-two shoes. He found himself becoming annoyed, even though he had been trying so hard not to act like this. While you were getting dressed earlier, he tried to push down feelings of jealousy as you walked back and forth from your suitcase to the bathroom half dressed. He tried not to feel jealous because obviously both he and Chan had seen you naked and both he and Chan had sex with you; everything was just separate. 

Jun tried to push down those feelings of jealousy as he looked at the menu for the next few minutes. The waiter came and took everyone’s order. He said, “Wine, anyone?”

“Sure,” Jun answered. “What wines go well with steak?”

Jun was definitely going to need some alcohol in his system if he was going to get through the night without losing his cool. He didn’t mind Chan, in general, but he’d like him much better if he was back in Seoul instead of here with them. 

For the most part, dinner went smoothly. The three of you had some pretty good conversation. Things between Jun and Chan weren’t explosive; neither men took petty jabs at each other and the three of you were able to laugh together. If anything, they were the ones poking fun at you, revealing a few of your embarrassing moments.

Jun chuckled. “Oh my god, did Y/N ever tell you about the first time she got blackout drunk?”

“No,” Chan said, “what happened?”

Jun cleared his throat. “She was at the karaoke bar getting drinks with Na-Ri and their other friends and she asked me to come get her. So, I get there and order more drinks. Next thing I know, we’re leaving and she fell into some garbage bags outside the bar. And when I got her back up again, she fell back down into them.”

As the guys started laughing again, you said, “Stop! That was so embarrassing. Everyone stopped to look and you know what the worst part of it was? There were police officers on duty and they walked by and they laughed! They fucking laughed at me! Can you believe that?”

And both Jun and Chan erupted into laughter. Jun picked up his wine glass, finishing what was left. He’d been the one to finish most of the wine, leaving little for you and Chan. He said, “Oh, did I finish most of it? Should I order another?”

You put your finger on your chin. “Actually...we should go out after this.”

Chan looked up, chewing on a piece of steak. “Where to?” 

“I saw some bars a few doors down. Why don’t we check it out?”

In an ideal world, Chan wouldn’t be here. In an ideal world, it’d just be you and Jun. And in an ideal world Jun would go out with you to the bars knowing that he’d be taking you back to the hotel so that you could make love all night and fall asleep in each others’ arms. But that couldn’t happen tonight and it was frustrating. It’s not that his main goal was to have sex with you but having the option taken from him sucked. He just wanted some privacy and alone time with his girlfriend. But with Chan here, it was impossible and he’d just have to make the best of it. His goal was just for you to be happy and to enjoy yourself.

*

This lounge had a chill vibe. It was a little more upscale than the others in the area but, surprisingly, it wasn’t too crowded considering it was a Friday night. The three of you sat in a booth, complete with velvet couches and a menu perfectly aligned in the center of the table. You picked up the menu, wondering what their drinks were like.

“What are you thinking of getting babe?” asked Chan, looking at the menu with you.

Jun rolled his eyes. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

You nodded. “Want me to order you something?”

As Jun slid out of the booth, he said, “Yeah. You know what I like.” And with a wink, he was gone. Within five minutes, the drinks were ordered and Jun had come back to the table looking a little stressed out. You noticed because you knew him. There was something bothering him and you were just noticing. You felt a little guilty for not noticing sooner that is, if he’d been feeling stressed out earlier.

As the waiter placed your drinks on the table, you turned to Jun. “You okay?”

He gave you a nod as you slid him his drink. “Of course.” 

A few sips into their drinks, you turned to Chan. “So did you talk to your mom?”

Chan nodded. “Yeah. I told her that I’m here and that I’m staying until Monday since I don’t have class.”

“I want to see her,” you said. “It’s been awhile.”

Chan cleared his throat. “I know. I thought about it and I’m not sure it’s a good idea if the three of us are together…It’s kind of complicated since they don’t know about Jun...”

You pouted, the realization setting in. “Oh…okay. I guess you’re right...”

Chan knew you were disappointed because you hadn’t seen his parents in awhile. He knew they’d be happy to see you and vice versa. Chan looked over at Jun, who seemed more concerned with his drink than the conversation the three of you were supposed to be having right now. Chan was annoyed. He was trying to be considerate of Jun’s feelings, since he was the one who brought up that their families don’t know the nature of the relationship they were in. He was the one who brought it up in the first place and he wasn’t even paying attention. And even worse, Chan was the only one who seemed to notice. Of course, he had no problem with bringing his girlfriend to meet his parents. But he didn’t want to make Jun uncomfortable.

“Jun,” called Chan.

Jun looked up from his drink. “Hm?”

“Y/N seems to really wanna meet my parents. Do you think we could maybe meet them at a restaurant? That way we won’t have to stay for too long…”

Jun wasn’t happy about it. If he was being honest, he wanted to suggest that he take her to dinner and for him to stay at the hotel. He didn’t want to meet Chan’s family as a friend. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be and it wasn’t fair that he had to suffer on his own vacation.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I guess that wouldn’t hurt.” He grit his teeth and tried to convince himself that this was normal. He knew that, at the end of the day, it would be the same if the roles were reversed. If it was Jun’s family here, the scenario would be the same. Chan wouldn’t be able to come in as your boyfriend either. 

But you were smiling. You were happy and Jun supposed that that was more important.

“Okay,” said Chan. “I’ll call them in the morning.”

You turned, looking toward the dance floor. It was mostly empty; You saw one group dancing together. There was hip hop music playing and it was one of your favorite songs. Your body wanted to move. “Let’s dance.” As you scooted off of your seat, you looked at Jun expectantly.

“I’ll join in a minute. I’m just gonna finish this,” he said, pointing to the rest of his drink. In all honesty, Jun was frustrated. To be honest, he didn’t want to be here and he certainly wasn’t in the mood to dance. He watched you dance with Chan and you weren’t even dancing with him in a sexual or suggestive way. You weren’t grinding on him or anything like that but he still felt jealousy coursing through his veins. These feelings seemed unreasonable. Jun had been in this arrangement with you for a couple months now. He knew how things were supposed to be. So why was it that he still felt this ridiculous jealousy, still? Why was it that he couldn’t accept this relationship with you and with Chan? 

With a sigh, he finished your drink in one gulp. But he needed more, especially to deal with the feelings and doubts that crossed his mind. He walked over to the bar, taking a seat at the bar.

“What can I get for you?” asked the female bartender.

“Something strong,” he replied. “How about whiskey? On the rocks.”

She smiled and a moment or two later, returned with his drink. A few sips in, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Jun turned and was faced with the person that he wanted to see the least. The alcohol was starting to hit him now and he was beginning to care less and less. He rolled his eyes and he didn’t care if Chan saw him. And Chan did see but decided to be the bigger person and brush it off.

What pissed him off is that Chan approached him with raised, concerned eyebrows. Glancing back over to the dance floor and table, you were nowhere in sight. He assumed that you must’ve gone to the bathroom. 

“What’s up with you?” 

Jun shrugged his shoulders, indifferent to Chan’s concern. “What does it look like? I’m having a drink, like everyone else here.” He took another sip. From Chan’s point of view, it seemed more like a gulp than anything else. 

Chan looked back at the table and glanced at you. “Why don’t you come drink it at the table...with us? Y/N’s in the bathroom but she’ll be back in a second.”

Jun sighed, swirling the ice around in his glass. “I’m just having a good time over here. I’m enjoying the vibes and the scenery. I can’t even do that?” 

Chan looked at the now empty glass Jun had in his hand. He scoffed as Jun ordered another. “Never mind…”

“Do you have a problem with me?”

“No,” said Chan. “If you weren’t in the mood to dance, I get it. But I don’t understand why you left the table to come over here and down a whole drink in two minutes...”

“It’s been a while since I’ve had a good glass of whiskey. You should try it. Don’t be so uptight.”

With that, Jun placed his new glass in Chan’s hands. “Here, have some.” Jun cleared his throat. “Can I ask you something?”

Chan raised his eyebrows, curious at the direction the conversation was going.“What?”

“Don’t you get jealous?”

“Sometimes...but I try not to let it get the best of me.”

Jun pouted. “You’re her favorite.”

Chan couldn’t believe his ears. Was Jun serious? Was he actually saying these words in all seriousness? “Are you fucking kidding, Junhee? She literally left me for you. What we had was perfect and she left me and went running back to you! Did you forget about that or do you have a selective memory? You're the favorite here!”

Jun pouted. “It just seems like she always gravitates to you...”

“All night she’s been checking on you and wondering if you’re okay. In fact, I haven’t even been able to enjoy myself tonight because she’s been so concerned about you and your shitty mood!”

“She would do the same for you because that’s how she is…”

Chan ignored him. “Why are you so insecure? Can't you see that she's been concerned about you this whole time?”

“I wanted to take this trip and make it special just for the two of us and you just had to come and mess it all up!”

“Stop yelling.”

“I’m not yelling!”

“Well you’re clearly upset with me. Honestly, if you wanted your own time why did you let me come? Why lie to her and act like you're okay with me showing up if that's not true? Were you just trying to make her happy?” he asked. 

“Of course I was trying to make her happy. I’m always trying to make her happy…”

“And you thought you’d make her happy by lying to her and leading her on? Looks like you’re doing a great job.” Chan couldn’t help but to let out a deep sigh. “You know, I thought you agreed to this because you thought it would be good for the three of us. I thought you were finally coming to accept things and make this work. I thought we were finally getting somewhere. But now I see I was wrong...”

Chan would be lying if he said he wasn’t hurt. He thought that maybe he and Jun could be friends. He thought that after the plane ride and the conversation they’d had that they’d finally be able to get along, not only for your sake but because they genuinely wanted to. But it was becoming more and more clear that Chan was dreaming and he needed to wake up from this dream.

Wake up, Yuchan...

*

Tagged: @hxnsoliee

[caffeinatedbraincell]

Thank you so much for the wonderfully sweet andromaquynh story! 🥰💖 if I may request more since I saw the Touch sheet and uh I’m in love:

24. Whispering in their ear, lips touching their skin, either pairing

Thank you for this ask Shatters!!! And for encouraging me along the way<3 I know it took forever but I hope you enjoy this!

Read on AO3

The door of Dr. Shukla’s office rattled. Inside, Joe took a sharp breath. Nicky threaded their hands together beneath the table, murmuring reassuringly.

A second later, the doctor walked in, large yellow folder in hand and a stethoscope slung across her neck. Joe and Nicky stood to greet her.

“Please, be seated. It’s alright,” she said, voice low and steady. “I’m Dr. Shukla, a neurologist. I have some CTs and MRIs here of Mr. Yusuf Al-Kaysani’s brain that we’ll be discussing today.”

Joe exhaled shakily as they all sat down. Next to him, Nicky cleared his throat.

“How bad is it, doctor?”

“Good and bad aren’t diagnoses, Mr.…”

“Al-Kaysani. I’m his husband. But call me Nicky, please.”

“Of course, Nicky.” She extracted the prints from the folder. “There is no easy way to put this. The truth is, the symptoms Yusuf is presenting with, and these images from his scans, make it very likely that what we’re dealing with here is early-onset dementia. Possibly Alzheimer’s.”

In the silence that followed, Joe sighed in relief. Finally, someone had said the words. It wasn’t a vague suspicion hanging over his head anymore. It was reality. They could work with reality.

Next to him, Nicky was arguing with the doctor.

“…but how can you be sure? Scans are inconclusive when it comes to diagnosing-”

“I would not have brought this diagnosis to the table if there was any better explanation for what Yusuf is experiencing. Any at all.”

“But-”

“Nicolò.” Joe moved his hand to Nicky’s thigh. He looked at the doctor. “So where do we go from here?”

Dr. Shukla leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table. “I will not mislead you, Yusuf. There is no cure. But there are treatments - therapies, medications, management strategies - that can slow the progression of the disease. You can still live a long and meaningful life.”

“Of course he’ll live a long and meaningful life!” Nicky exclaimed.

“Tesoro, please-”

“Look,” Dr. Shukla said. “I know this is extremely hard. For both of you. But what’s important in this moment is that you take your time to process this news and adapt to it. Be there for each other, and be patient with each other.” She stood and walked over to her computer. “I’m going to put in a prescription for something called Razelon; it’s a cholinesterase inhibitor that will reduce early behavioral symptoms and boost cognitive function.”

“Do we need to pick it up today?” Nicky asked.

“Yes. Yusuf, I’m starting you off on half a pill. We’ll see how you react to it. If it works for you, we can modify the dose as necessary going forward.”

As they stepped out of the clinic into the stinging wind, Joe pulled his coat tighter against his body. At his side, Nicky fumbled with his phone, pulling up the prescription.

“Razelon,” he muttered to himself, typing it into Google. “Look, Joe, it seems to be a fairly common and effective treatment. Actually, it’s good the doctors caught this early. I’m sure we can-”

“Nicky.”

“-make this work until something more effective comes out. Alzheimer’s research is at a revolutionary place right now and-”

“Nicky…”

“-there’s definitely going to be some new, highly effective treatments on the market in a few-”

“Nicolò!”

Nicky froze where he was reaching for his car keys, lips pressed into a thin line. “What?”

“My love, we’ve had over one thousand years together.” Joe stepped forward, gently taking his hands. “Haven’t you had enough of me yet?”

Nicky shoved him away lightly. “Stop it, Joe. That’s nothing to joke about.”

“Listen-”

“No, you listen. I don’t care if it’s been a millennium. If you don’t think I’m going to fight tooth and nail for every second - every single second - we can possibly have together, then you’re wrong. You’re wrong.”

“I will fight with you, my love, I swear. But-”

“But what?”

“But I cannot watch you mourn me while I am still here. Promise me this changes nothing between us, Nicky. I don’t want you to treat me like I’m suddenly made of glass.”

“Says the person who tried to wrap me in literal bubble wrap when we discovered we were mortal.”

Joe snorted. “Touché.”

Nicky stared at him for a second. Then, he leaned forward and kissed him, slow and sweet. “Get in the car. I’ll buy you a caramel frappucino by the pharmacy, yeah?”

***

“Joe, don’t forget, Nile’s coming over at 8 tonight for dinner, so we’ll have to be back at least an hour before that.”

“I don’t know, tesoro, forgetting is kind of what I do best now,” Joe quipped from the couch.

Nicky stuck his head out of the kitchen testily. “Still not funny, you asshole.”

It has been several months since that fateful day at the clinic, and Joe could tell he was getting worse. He didn’t feel it, exactly; the Razelon was helping, and Dr. Shukla had added an antidepressant to his prescription to ward off the vague sense of dread and loss that sometimes settled in his chest.

No, Joe could tell he was getting worse because of Nicky. The way Nicky never let him make the same mistake twice. Joe had forgotten to take his medication one night, and ever since, Nicky made a ritual of bringing it to him with a glass of water after they brushed their teeth. A few mornings ago, Nicky had seen Joe walk away from the coffee machine without turning it on, and ever since, there would be a freshly brewed pot of coffee on the table before Joe woke up.

It was as if by covering for Joe enough, Nicky could pretend this wasn’t happening at all. Joe frowned deeply at the thought.

“Hey,” Nicky said, coming to sit next to Joe. “What’s wrong, hayati? Would you rather stay in today than go to the beach? I won’t mind, you know.”

Joe shook his head. “No, it’s not that, it’s…” He furrowed his brow, then sighed in defeat. “Nevermind. Let’s just go to… the place. What you said.”

“The beach?”

“Mhm. Let’s go to the beach.”

“Alright. I’ll get us a bag.” Nicky kissed Joe’s forehead gently and got up to leave.

“Nicky, wait.”

“Yes, love?”

“Is it- Am I getting a lot worse, do you think?” Joe blurted.

Nicky frowned. “Why would you say that?”

“It’s just- You didn’t let me pay rent this month. Usually you remind me, but you did it yourself last week, didn’t you?”

“So what if I did? I don’t want to make things any harder for you than they already are. Let me be there for you in these little ways, ya qalbi.”

“You are. You’re always there for me. But you’re doing so much now, too much, and I feel like I’m not pulling my weight anymore. I don’t want to become a- a…”

“A burden?”

Joe was already shaking his head, having clocked the disappointment in Nicky’s eyes. “No! No, Nicky, that’s not what I-”

“Joe. I think we should move back to Malta.”

Joe paused, a little taken aback. “Back to Malta? Like, for good?”

“For good.”

“We’ll be far away from Nile and Booker, though.”

“They can come visit whenever they want. They’re still immortal, Joe. We’re not. I want to spend the time we have left in the place I married you one thousand years ago.”

Joe stood up and looped his arms around Nicky’s neck. He grinned as Nicky’s arms circled his waist, pulling him closer. “And you say I’m an incurable romantic.”

Nicky laughed. “So you’re okay with that, then?” he asked, hopeful eyes searching Joe’s.

“More than okay. I can’t wait, amore.”

***

Dinner with Nile was a lovely time, as always.

“How is Booker doing, sorellina?” Nicky asked as he dished second helpings of lasagne onto everyone’s plates.

“Fine,” Nile said with her mouth full. “His therapy group is taking a field trip to the Met tonight, so he couldn’t come. But he said to bring him back some food.”

Joe laughed, turning to Nicky with delight. “Sir, be sure to pack this young lady your restaurant’s finest lasagne, to-go.”

Nicky rolled his eyes. “If Booker wants food, he can come get some himself,” he grumbled, nevertheless grabbing a clean tupperware from the counter. “It’s been ages since he’s shown his face around here.”

“He wants to come all the time, I promise,” Nile reassured him. “It’s just so busy now, between jobs and therapy-”

“I keep telling Nicky we can still work the jobs,” Joe cut in. “Just because we’re mortal doesn’t mean we can’t help with intel and stuff. Or Nicky can, at least.”

“And I keep telling you it’s not necessary,” Nile countered, gentle but firm. “It’s important that you two spend this time with each other. And anyway, Booker and I are managing just fine.”

“It can’t be easy, though.” Nicky popped open a bottle of wine. “Do you mind non-alcoholic, Nile? If so, I can pull up another-”

“No, no, non-alcoholic is great. And to tell you the truth, we are taking on less now. Choosing our battles more carefully. But the ones we choose, we’re fighting them better, I think.”

Joe sat back, smiling fondly. “Good. Good. I think we’ve all been prioritizing doing a better job of living. But the offer always stands, Nile. If you two ever need some extra hands, we’re here.”

Over lasagne and wine, the conversation ebbed and flowed late into the night. It was nearly 2AM when Joe stood up, yawning.

“Bed, habibi?” Nicky asked.

“Hmm. I think I’ll call it a night.”

“Let me get you your medicine. Nile, would you mind moving the dishes to the sink? I’ll be back in a minute to wash them.”

Nile stood up, piling the dishes together. Joe and Nicky walked towards the bedroom.

As Joe settled into bed, Nicky puttered around to arrange his pills and a glass of water.

“Nicky, we forgot to tell Nile about the plan. That we’re going to move back to, uh…” Joe’s eyes widened in mild horror as he struggled to remember. “Malta! Malta. We’re moving back to Malta.”

Nicky walked over to him and sat down on the edge of the bed. He lovingly cupped Joe’s face, leaning in to rest their foreheads together.

“I’ll tell her. Here. You take this medicine and rest. I should go-”

“Do you want to see what I drew at the beach?” Joe cut in. He didn’t want Nicky to leave just yet.

“Ya amar, of course I do. Where is your sketchbook, still in the bag? I’ll get it.”

Nicky handed him the book, and Joe flipped through it until he found what he was looking for.

“It would have been better if I had colors, but…”

He held out the book to Nicky, who promptly forgot how to breathe. Done in nothing but ordinary pencil graphite was his own profile, set against the background of a stunning black and white sunset. The fading rays of light gleamed on the ocean’s surface, and the waves looked, magically, like they could move.

“Do you like it?” Joe asked. Nicky realized he’d been staring in silence. He set the book on the nightstand and wrapped a hand behind Joe’s head, pulling him in for a kiss.

“I love it,” he said, kissing him again. “I love you. It’s beautiful. Everything you make is beautiful, but this one especially so. And you’re beautiful.”

Joe giggled beneath the onslaught of kisses and praise. “You’re a sap. Now go, Nile is waiting for you.”

“Alright, alright. I’m going.”

“Nicky?”

“Hmm?”

“Come back soon.”

Nicky grinned. “It’s almost 3AM. I won’t be long; Nile is probably exhausted, too.”

“Tell her to stay the night,” Joe mumbled, already half asleep. “Too late to drive.”

“I’ll tell her, love. Sleep well.”

“Tell me what?” Nile asked as Nicky returned to the living room.

“To stay the night, it’s late.” He looked towards the kitchen. “Where are the dishes?”

“I washed them, they’re on the drying rack.”

“Sorellina! You are a guest!”

“I’m family. I can help with the dishes,” Nile argued, rolling her eyes.

Nicky smiled, settling down next to her on the couch. Nile shifted, curling up close to his side and resting her head on his shoulder.

“How are you doing?” she asked after a beat.

“Fine, Joe’s been-”

“I said you, Nicky.”

Nicky hesitated. “I’m alright, I think. Life is not harder now, not really. It’s nice to spend our days enjoying each other’s company, without having to worry about jobs and stuff. But…”

“But?”

“I can’t shake this sense of… loss? Our every interaction is tinged with it. He is the one diagnosed, but sometimes it feels like I’m the one who’s losing my sense of reality. I feel untethered.” Nicky broke off with a dry chuckle. “He gets upset if I’m too sad around him, so I try not to show it.”

“Oh.”

“Is it terribly greedy of me, Nile?”

“What?”

“That we’ve had over a thousand years together, more than anyone else in human history, and all I can think of is that it’s not enough. That I’m not ready. That I want more.”

“Love always wants more, Nicky. And no one is ever ready, no matter how much or how little time we have. Like, Andy and Quynh, right? You knew them for centuries, I knew them for a few years. But neither of us were ready to lose them.”

“I can’t do that again, Nile,” Nicky said wearily, feeling the full weight of his years. “I can’t mourn anyone else. I can’t mourn Joe.”

“You already are.”

Nicky’s eyes snapped to hers. “Wha- what do you mean by that? He said something like that, too.”

“You’re mourning the parts of him he’s already forgotten. You’re mourning the Joe who remembered his sisters’ names. The Joe who could differentiate San Paolo ‘34 from Berlin ‘27. The Joe who-”

“Stop.” Nicky squeezed his eyes shut. “He’s still here. My Joe is still here.”

“That’s exactly my point,” Nile said. “Think about the Joe you fell in love with outside of Jerusalem, Nicky. Now think of Joe sleeping inside. Everything has changed, but you still love him. What was it you fell in love with, the one thing that’s remained constant? His body? His mind?”

“His soul.”

“And can Alzheimer’s touch that? Can death?”

Nicky sniffled. He kissed the top of Nile’s head. “You’re far too wise for your age, you know.”

“I’ve had practice,” she mumbled.

“Yeah. Let’s get you to bed, alright? Will you stay the night?”

“Mhm.”

“Good.”

Nile ended up finding out about Malta the next morning, when Joe mentioned moving plans to Nicky over breakfast.

“You didn’t tell her last night, tesoro?”

“I meant to. But I guess we were all really tired.”

“I think it’s a great idea. When are you two planning to move?” Nile asked.

“As soon as possible. Joe and I were looking at flights for this weekend.”

Nile nodded. “Booker and I can help you pack. How’s tonight?”

“Fine, if a bit early. We don’t have that much stuff,” Joe said between sips of coffee. “At least not here. There are some things in the safehouses…”

“Sure. You and Nicky make a list whenever you’re free, and I’ll make a few trips with Booker and ship everything to the Malta address.”

“You’re an angel, sorellina,” Nicky said.

In the comfortable silence that followed, Joe looked back and forth between them, trying to memorize this moment. Nicolò di Genova is reading the paper, he thought. Nile Freeman is eating toast. Nile is married to Sebastien Le Livre, whom we call Booker. Booker isn’t here because he was- he had-

“Did Booker send you any pictures from the Met?” Nicky asked Nile.

Ah. He’d gone to the Met with his therapy group.

Nile shook her head. “A few cute ones they took outside, but I think the exhibit they went to see didn’t allow photography. He’ll probably have some brochure pictures to talk our ears off about later, though.” She smiled fondly. “It’s our turn to bring something over for dinner tonight, okay?”

“Absolutely not,” Nicky argued. “I love cooking for you guys. Let me make dinner. You’ll be stuck with your own cooking once we leave for Malta, anyway.”

Nile gasped in mock offense. “Well, someone has an inflated sense of their own abilities.”

“Habibi, listen, she’s disparaging my cooking,” Nicky complained.

“You insulted her first, my love. If you can dish it, you’d better take it.”

Nile laughed at the look of utter betrayal on Nicky’s face as she walked her empty plate to the sink.

“I’m gonna head out,” she said. “I’ll be back with Booker around 7. And fine, looks like dinner’s on you, Nicky.”

“I’m making poisoned mushroom risotto.”

“Suit yourself, I’m not the one who’s mortal.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Nicky muttered around a grin as Nile and Joe high-fived. “See you later, Nile.”

***

Midnights were Nicky’s favorite part of Malta. The sky hung heavy like a black velvet blanket, and the sparkle of the stars reminded him of Joe’s eyes.

In the months since they’d arrived, Joe’s health had taken an undeniable turn for the worse. They’d talked to Dr. Shukla and doubled his dose of Razelon. Soon after, they’d doubled it again. But the disease progressed with a vengeance of lifetimes, as if it was trying to recompense Joe’s immortality by cutting his mortal life short.

Nowadays, Nicky almost never left Joe’s side, from waking him up in the morning, to bathing him, to feeding him, to taking him on long walks to visit their favorite places.

And truly, there was nowhere he’d rather be. But Nicky was wracked with guilt over the terrifying intensity with which he missed Joe. He found himself clinging fervently to Joe’s few and far-between moments of lucidity, dreading the day when Joe would look at him and no longer remember his name.

A tear startled Nicky as it slipped down his cheek. He wiped it away quickly, leaning over the balcony railing and breathing in the sleeping city.

“Nicky?”

Nicky whirled around. “Joe? You’re not asleep?”

“I woke up. I- I missed you.”

“Oh, my love, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you’d wake up. Come on, let’s go back to bed.”

As they settled back under the covers together, Joe reached for Nicky’s hand and squeezed gently.

“What is it, hayati?”

“Nicky, I need to tell you something.”

Nicky turned to face him. “I’m listening.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

There was a tense pause. Then-

“Do you know how much I look forward to this, Joe? These brief minutes when you’re present, fully alert and oriented? Tell me, have I waited for this moment only to hear you say those words?”

“I just- I want you to know that you can leave. This is only going to get worse, Nicky. You didn’t sign up to change my diapers.”

“I didn’t sign up for immortality, either. But I embraced over a thousand years of it, Joe. Because I was in it with you.”

Joe rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling and blinking back tears.

Nicky groaned, propping himself up on an elbow. “Listen here, you idiot. I know I can leave. I could’ve left when you offered me your hand outside of Jerusalem. I could’ve left when we had our first fight. I could’ve left when we lost Quynh. I could’ve left after WWII, when we became so depressed that we could hardly stand the sight of each other.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Of course I didn’t. I love you, Joe. I don’t ever want to leave you.” He paused. “Unless you want me to.”

“And if I say I do want you to?”

“I’d tell you not to be a martyr.” Nicky sighed in frustration. “What would you do if it were me, Joe? Would you walk away?”

Joe’s breath hitched. He immediately shook his head.

“Why?” Nicky barrelled on. “Because of some twisted sense of morality? Because of some obligation-”

“Because I love you, amore. I would suffer a hundred deaths to spend just one hour more in your arms.”

Nicky slowly lay back down. He cupped Joe’s tear-stained cheek, tenderly guiding their lips together in a warm kiss.

“See? Can we drop this, now?”

Joe nodded. “If you’re sure.”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, ya qalbi.”

They drifted to sleep in each other’s arms, exchanging quiet kisses and hums of contentment. The next morning, Nicky realized he’d made a terrible, terrible mistake.

It was their wedding anniversary. Their original wedding anniversary, the approximate date they’d gotten married in Malta over a thousand years ago.

Nicky had meant to be absolutely insufferable about it, to go on and on about it from at least three days prior. That way, Joe would remember. He wouldn’t have to deal with the guilt of forgetting, or the reality that his dementia no longer afforded him keeping track of the date.

Instead, Nicky had all but forgotten as well, only to be jarringly reminded by the date flashing on his phone.

He cursed as he fiddled with the coffee machine, analyzing his options. First option, he could simply remind Joe that today was their anniversary. Slip it into casual conversation or something.

But then he imagined Joe’s eyes going wide with shock and sadness as it sunk in that this is where they were at, now. He imagined Joe apologizing profusely for not planning anything special for Nicky. He imagined the guilt that any further attempts to celebrate would be tinged with, and that just wouldn’t do.

Second option, Nicky decided. He would simply not say anything. They’d treat this just like any other day, and what Joe didn’t remember wouldn’t hurt him. Something ugly twisted in Nicky’s gut at the thought that this could be their last anniversary together, but he stubbornly shoved it down. He could do this for Joe.

“Nicky?” Joe’s voice echoed down the hall. Nicky quickly switched on the coffee machine and returned to their bedroom.

“You’re awake already, love. Did you sleep well?”

Joe nodded, looking a little dazed. Slowly, his eyes focused on Nicky. He smiled. “Can we go brush my teeth? I want to kiss you.”

Nicky laughed, coming to sit at the edge of the bed. “How about a kiss first, beautiful?”

Joe’s smile went soft, his gaze drifting languidly to Nicky’s lips. “Okay.”

Nicky reached for Joe’s hand as they kissed, threading their fingers together. Joe made a small noise of happiness, draping his other arm over Nicky’s shoulder and pressing closer.

This is enough, Nicky realized with startling clarity. This is more than enough for celebrating today. If he’s happy, I’m happy.

***

Awareness was strange for Joe, these days. Dr. Shukla had told him that no two people experience Alzheimer’s the same way; it was better to observe what happens than to expect a specific process.

These days, life often felt like working on the corner of a painting, some zoomed-in fragment for his mind to get lost in. He would zone out and zone back in, switching between his immediate reality and some dark, floaty place deep inside his consciousness. Any concept of the “bigger picture” seemed uncannily absent.

It would be terrifying, he knew, if not for Nicky. My husband, Joe thought fondly. That, at least, he had not forgotten yet.

Joe’s body still remembered perfectly well what his mind could no longer articulate. Nicky’s hand in his hand, Nicky’s lips on his lips. The instinctive way he’d reach out for comfort and find Nicky there, calm eyes and steady arms and gentle smile.

“Joe?”

With tremendous effort, Joe pulled himself out of his thoughts, trying to focus on the voice. “Hmm?”

“Hey, it’s okay, don’t strain yourself.” Nicky rested a hand on Joe’s shoulder, and he immediately relaxed. “I’m making pastizzi. You remember pastizzi?”

Joe furrowed his brow. He doubted the word alone would have meant anything to him, but combined with the savory smell wafting from the kitchen, a fuzzy memory clicked into place.

“Favorite.”

Nicky chuckled softly. “That’s right. It’s your favorite.”

“Special. It’s for special days. Is today something special?”

Nicky startled like a deer in headlights. “Uh, wha- Yes! Of course it is.” He leaned down to kiss Joe’s curls. “Every day with you is so, so special, my love. It goes without saying, does it not?”

Joe grinned guilelessly, taking Nicky’s hand and kissing his knuckles. “Is Andromache coming?”

“Andromache is not here, sweetheart.” Nicky wrapped his arms around Joe, swaying gently from side to side. “It’s just us, for now.”

“That sounds nice, too.”

“What do you want to do after breakfast today?”

“Draw. I want to draw you. But can we take a nap first?”

“Of course.” Nicky unwound his arms from Joe and walked into the kitchen. “You got up too early today, habibi. I told you, you should rest more. You’ll be tired all day, otherwise.”

“I only like to sleep with you, tesoro.”

Nicky barked out a laugh. “You don’t need to tell me twice. Here, let’s eat. Then we’ll nap together.”

Joe enjoyed breakfast, taking comfort in the familiar, grounding taste of Nicky’s homemade pastizzi. And he definitely enjoyed falling asleep in his husband’s arms, head pillowed on Nicky’s chest, bathed in the late morning sunlight.

When Joe woke up, it was in one of those increasingly rare and precious moments of clarity. Nicky lay beside him, still fast asleep. Joe stared unabashedly, marveling at how Nicky managed to look even more soft and peaceful than usual in his sleep. He reached for his sketchbook and began drawing.

As the hours passed, portraits turned into poetry, and poetry into letters. Joe wondered, for a moment, if he should wake Nicky up for lunch, but he was loath to disrupt the little rest that Nicky managed to get these days.

Instead, Joe sat quietly by his side, taking advantage of his own lucidity to write a letter to Nile and Booker. He vaguely recalled Nicky mentioning that they would visit at some point, and he wanted to make sure he could convey what he wanted to say to them.

Just as Joe was wrapping up, Nicky stirred beside him.

“Joe?” he said, voice rough with sleep.

“Sono qui.”

Nicky glanced at the bedside clock. He scrambled to sit up, gently taking Joe’s face in his hands.

“Hayati, why didn’t you wake me? It’s three in the afternoon! Oh my love, aren’t you hungry? Did you drink water today?”

Joe smiled, kissing Nicky softly. “I went and drank water. I accidentally dropped a glass, though-”

“That’s alright.”

“-and don’t worry, I’m not hungry yet. Breakfast was very filling. You looked so relaxed sleeping, I didn’t want to wake you for no reason.”

“I’m so sorry, Joe, I didn’t mean to crash like that. How long have you been up?”

“Since noon. But please, amore, don’t apologize. You deserve to rest.” Nicky opened his mouth, presumably to protest, but Joe pushed on. “Do you want to see what I drew? And I wrote you a poem, can I read it to you?”

Nicky’s expression softened, the tension visibly draining from his shoulders. “Absolutely, Joe. Show me everything you’ve sketched and written. Then we can go out for a late lunch, okay?”

To Joe’s immense satisfaction, the mental fog largely stayed away for the rest of the day. There were moments, of course, when all he could do was hold Nicky’s hand and follow his footsteps, mind eerily blank except for the buzz of physical sensation right beneath the surface.

But for the most part, Joe was present. He recognized by name the café they stopped by for lunch and the restaurant they went to for dinner. In between, when they visited il-Moskea, Joe was able to pray properly for the first time in weeks. Nicky had prayed alongside him, and as Joe listened to the quiet recitation of Quran verses from his lips, peace had seemed so easy. So reachable.

“Lean forward, hayati,” Nicky murmured. The moment they’d come home, Nicky had started a hot bath for Joe. Joe complied, leaning forward until the lightly scented bubbles tickled his beard. “Feels good?” Nicky asked, swiping a washcloth over his back.

“So good. Ti amo, Nicky.”

“Ti amo tanto. Now lean back, let’s rinse.”

“Did we- did we used to do this before?”

“What, bathing?” Nicky teased.

“Shut up. I mean, bathing each other. It feels familiar. An ancient ritual from way before I got sick.”

“Hmm.”

“But I can’t remember, Nicky. I visit the place in my heart where I stored those memories, and it’s empty. Like they’ve been stolen.”

Joe heard the distress creep into his tone, and he was sure Nicky could hear it, too. Sure enough, Nicky set the washcloth down and cupped Joe’s face.

“Hey, shhh. Just breathe, my love. It’s okay. We’re okay.”

“I feel like I keep hurting you when I forget important things about us. I don’t want to make you sad. But I can’t help it, Nicky, I don’t know-”

“Joe, ya amar, this isn’t your fault. You never make me sad, do you hear me? And it’s okay if you can’t remember. Getting to be here with you, in this moment, is so much more important to me than anything that came before.”

Joe lowered his eyes, unconvinced.

Nicky sighed. “Hey. The water is getting cold. Let me get your towel from the dryer, I’ll just be a moment.”

Seconds after Nicky left, his phone buzzed, sliding from the toilet lid to the floor. Joe frowned, extending a shaky arm out of the tub to put it back.

But as he picked up the phone, Joe caught sight of the date. June 18th. His frown deepened. June 18th, June 18th, June 18th…

Joe had no idea how he did it, but somehow, he managed to put two and two together. The pastizzi for breakfast. Their favorite restaurants. The trip to the mosque. The way Nicky’s hands had been impossibly gentler today, the way his eyes shined even softer with love.

“Why didn’t you tell me it’s our anniversary?” Joe demanded as soon as Nicky set foot in the bathroom.

Nicky froze. “Joe. How in God’s name did you remember that?”

“I figured it out.”

Nicky set the freshly washed towel on the toilet lid and knelt by the tub. “Joe-”

“You were celebrating it without telling me.” Joe sniffled, mortified to feel tears pooling in his eyes. Of all the things dementia had taken from him, this had to be the worst. He hadn’t even bought Nicky a present.

“Yusuf, please. Please let me explain?” Nicky begged, reaching into the tepid water to hold Joe’s hands.

Joe shook his head, feeling the tears slip loose. Nicky drew a shaky breath, leaning forward to kiss them away. He was crying, too, Joe realized with a start.

“Perdonami, my heart. Perdonami. I didn’t think you’d remember. I didn’t say anything because you would have been devastated that- that it’s gotten this bad. I couldn’t bear you blaming yourself for something so utterly out of your control.”

Joe didn’t reply.

“Joe, listen to me. It’s just a date on the calendar, my love.”

“I don’t want to forget you,” Joe whispered.

A sob caught in Nicky’s throat. He pulled off his shirt and stepped into the tub, wrapping Joe in his arms. Joe tucked his face into Nicky’s neck and cried like a baby.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. It’s okay,” Nicky croaked, rocking them back and forth. “Everything will be okay.”

It was late by the time they dried off and made it to bed, not bothering with clothes. Joe watched as Nicky put a second comforter at the foot of their bed, in case it got cold during the night. When they were finally snuggled together beneath the covers, Joe spoke.

“Nicky?”

“Hmm?”

“If- when I forget you, will you forgive me?”

Nicky pulled him closer, inhaling deeply as he tangled a hand in Joe’s hair. “There will be nothing to forgive, hayati.”

“I’m not doing it on purpose-”

“I know, Yusuf. I know. You never need to explain yourself to me.”

“Nicolò, promise me that- promise me that you won’t forget. Please don’t forget me.” Joe muffled a whimper, pressing closer until he could feel Nicky’s heart beating against his chest.

There was a long silence. When Nicky spoke, his voice was the steadiest Joe had ever heard.

“My beloved, I promise you that I will not forget. Whether or not you remember, whether or not you can even tell I’m there, I will be at your side for as long as we have together. I will take care of you in every way I know how. And when there is nothing left to do, I will honor your memory until my dying breath. I promise.”

Joe couldn’t reply, couldn’t breathe, as he felt his eyes well up again. His husband rubbed a soothing hand up and down his back, and gradually, the moment of terror passed. Joe relaxed into the sensation, falling asleep to the rhythm of Nicky’s heart and the echo of his magnanimous words.

***

“He doesn’t speak much, now,” Nicky briefed Nile and Booker as he helped carry their overnight bags in. “You’ll have to introduce yourselves.”

Months had passed since their anniversary, and Nicky was adjusting to this new life right alongside Joe. Their dynamic had changed, but their love had not.

Joe no longer walked up behind Nicky and hugged him while he cooked. Nicky no longer woke up at 2AM to find Joe hunched over his sketchbook, struck by some untimely inspiration. They’d never had much need for words, but now, verbal conversation was even rarer.

Instead, they spoke the well-loved language of gentle touches, of midday naps wrapped in each other’s arms. A spontaneous kiss never failed to make Joe smile, and Joe’s smile was enough to make Nicky’s entire day. Their interactions fell back on a bedrock of trust one thousand years in the making. Of course there were bad days - days colored with grief and sickness and loneliness - but far more often, Nicky found his heart flooded with quiet gratitude.

“Hello, Joe,” Nile said, kneeling in front of Joe’s chair and taking his hand. “I’m Nile. It’s lovely to see you.”

Joe said nothing, but his lips curved up in a tentative smile. Booker came forward and knelt next to Nile.

“Hey, buddy. It’s Booker. Long time no see. I don’t know how much of this you understand, Joe, but I hope you know that we love you. So, so much.”

“Hmm,” Joe grunted softly. He turned his other palm over in his lap, as if in invitation. Booker wrapped his hands around Joe’s, eyes shining as he brought it to his lips with reverence.

“I think he knows, Booker,” Nicky smiled fondly. “Come on, I made rice. You two must be hungry from the long plane ride.”

It was later that night, after everyone had eaten and napped, that Nicky remembered about the letters. Joe sat on the couch wrapped in a blanket, watching with interest as Nicky, Nile, and Booker played Snakes & Ladders on the coffee table.

“Oh! I almost forgot,” Nicky exclaimed.

“What?” Nile asked.

“No, no, no - stop trying to distract us,” Booker said shrewdly. “You’re about to land on that snake and you know it. No cheating.”

Nile laughed. “He’s right. Take the fall, old man. You’re back to square five. Come on.”

Nicky scowled, sliding his piece all the way down the board. He’d been so close to winning.

From the couch, Joe snickered. Nile and Booker looked at him in surprise.

“He understands what’s going on?” Booker asked incredulously.

“Just enough to know when to laugh at me.” Nicky rolled his eyes, stopping to kiss Joe’s forehead as he walked away. A soft smile melted across Joe’s face, and he snuggled deeper into his blanket.

“I didn’t think he could get any more adorable, but here we are,” Nile commented. “Joe, you’re a sap, you know that?”

“You’re one to talk,” Nicky countered as he returned with the envelopes. “Remind me again what you gave Booker for your last anniversary?”

“A five-page poem comparing our love to the heavens from five different religious traditions,” Booker bragged. “It was the best thing I’ve ever read.”

Nile blushed furiously. “Alright, alright. Point taken. Hey, what are those?”

Nicky held up the envelopes. “Joe wrote us letters a few months back. One is for you two, and the other one is for me. But he said I couldn’t open mine until I gave you guys yours.”

Nicky handed Nile one of the envelopes and slipped the other into the pocket of his hoodie. Joe watched with mild curiosity, clearly not recognizing the letters.

“Should we call it a night?” Booker asked. “It’s nearly 1AM.”

“Quitting while you’re in the lead, Book?” Nicky teased. “But no, I think that’s a great idea. Joe would normally have slept hours ago.”

“He doesn’t look tired,” Nile observed.

“That’s because he’s entertained. He loves when people visit.”

The four of them walked towards the bedrooms. Nile and Booker waved goodbye to Joe as Nicky guided him into their room, before continuing down the hallway to the guest room.

“Nicky’s set everything up for us,” Nile appreciated. “These sheets are so soft.”

“That man works too hard. I worry about him.” Booker ran a hand through his hair fretfully. “I don’t know, Nile, I feel like we should hang around here more. Help Nicky out, spend more time with Joe.”

Nile stepped out of her clothes and curled up under the covers. Booker followed suit.

“We could,” she agreed. “I would appreciate the change of pace. And of course, having the family together will be nice.”

“But you would get restless.”

“Me and you both, Book.” Nile turned to face him, reaching out to caress his cheek. “I know, I know the point of immortality isn’t to fight all the time. But when we’re not fighting, I feel like we’re wasting this gift.”

“Yeah. I’ve had centuries longer to get used to immortality, and I still feel that way.”

“Maybe we could visit more often?”

“Hmm,” Booker smiled. “That would be nice.”

“Hey. Should we open Joe’s letter?”

“Oh, yeah! Definitely.” Booker propped himself up against the headboard, holding out an arm to Nile. She snuggled up next to him, carefully opening the envelope.

“Here we go.”

***

There were good days, and there were bad days. Nicky had spent centuries caring for the world, and now, he savored the years he’d been given to care for his world.

Nile and Booker visited more now, and Nicky sensed, deep down, that something had changed. Late-stage Alzheimer’s had not been easy on Joe - the darkness that came with cognitive decline was an extremely unpleasant experience for someone who preferred putting their emotions into words. And then, as Joe’s motor skills wore down, he’d found himself increasingly cut off from his art. Nicky had ached for him, helpless to provide much relief.

But these days, there was a calmness about Joe that hadn’t been there before. The anxiety gave way to an aura of peace, especially when Joe could see or hear Nicky nearby. Often, Nicky would stop whatever he was doing to just come sit with Joe, trying to absorb some of his serenity. It was like being in the presence of someone deep in meditation.

One night, Nicky returned to their bedroom after doing the dishes to find Joe sitting up against the headboard.

“Still awake, hayati?” He shook out the sheets as he undressed for bed, not expecting a response.

“Nicolò.”

Nicky froze. Surely he’d hallucinated that; it had been over a year since Joe was able to recognize him by name. He didn’t dare look up.

“Nicolò, my beloved,” Joe repeated, voice hoarse with disuse. Nicky closed his eyes, clamping down on a sob. He tossed the sheets aside and crawled into bed, reaching for Joe.

“What is it?” Nicky asked as he took Joe’s hands in his own, kissing his cold knuckles. “Tell me.”

“It’s time.”

“No,” Nicky shook his head, wrapping his arms around Joe. He was utterly unprepared for this. “No, no, please God, please, no…”

Nicky clung to Joe, sobbing unrestrainedly into his shoulder. This couldn’t be happening. This was madness. A nightmare, Nicky decided - a particularly torturous nightmare that he would soon wake up from. And Joe would be next to him, perfectly fine, their lives untouched by this ugly monster of a disease.

When he finally calmed down enough to pull back, Nicky found Joe watching him, eyes round with unshed tears. The moment of lucidity had passed, Nicky realized. All Joe could see now was his seemingly causeless distress.

Joe tightened his grip on Nicky’s arm minutely in a silent question, and Nicky almost wanted to laugh. Even now, Joe was still checking in with him.

“It’s nothing, love.” Nicky wiped his eyes quickly. “Let’s sleep, yeah? You must be tired.”

Nicky helped Joe lie down on his back before lying down next to him. He pulled Joe closer, gently kissing the shell of his ear.

“I love you,” Nicky murmured, the words feeling like too much and not enough. “I’m going to tell you a story tonight, okay?”

Joe grunted his assent, already half asleep. Nicky closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to ground himself. He thought back to Joe’s letter, to the words he’d memorized the very night he read them.

When the time comes, amore mio, I ask that you hold me close. And speak to me, please. I want to hear everything - how we met in Jerusalem, our adventures with Andy and Quynh, all the bets you lost to Booker, the delight on Nile’s face when you let her use the paints you’d preserved from the 1500s. I want to hear about all the times we got married, and all the anniversaries we celebrated. Most of all, Nicky, I want to hear your voice. I want to move on from this world surrounded by you, your beautiful voice, your loving hands.

And in case I can’t tell you then, I love you. Deep down, I think I’ve always loved you, even before we made peace. And I know I will always love you, be it in this world or the next. Please never doubt this, my all. I love you so much.

Nicky struggled for a moment to regain control, overwhelmed at the memory. Then, lips touching Joe’s ear, he began to speak. He held Joe in his arms as he whispered their story into the silence of the night. Joe sighed deeply in his sleep, pliant in Nicky’s embrace.

Nicky had no idea how long he continued on - hours, at least. There was so much to say. He talked and talked until he fell asleep next to Joe, right where he belonged.

***

“Abort mission,” Nile hissed into the comms. “Code Red. Meet me at the checkpoint ASAP.”

Minutes later, Booker jogged up to the checkpoint. “What happened? Are you okay? I’d almost gotten through-” Booker stopped, noticing Nile’s tear-streaked face. His tone softened immediately. “Mon amour, what is it? What’s wrong?”

Nile sniffled. “Joe’s gone, Book. He’s gone.”

Booker staggered backwards like he’d been slapped. “Gone?! What the fuck do you mean, gone?”

Nile pressed a fist to her mouth to stifle a sob. “Voicemail.” She held out her phone.

Booker put the phone to his ear and listened. He heard Nicky’s voice, quiet and anguished, but felt oddly removed from the whole situation. What language was Nicky speaking? It sounded like Italian, so why wasn’t it making sense?

“Hey, Book? Talk to me, love. Hey.”

Nile’s voice, Booker thought. It sounded like she was talking to him through a very long cardboard tube. His vision swam. Everything seemed so distorted.

“Booker!”

The next thing he knew, Booker was blinking up at Nile from the ground, head half in her lap.

“Do not pass out on me,” Nile muttered through gritted teeth. “Get up, Book, please. I can’t do this. Not alone. Please.”

Booker felt an itch on his cheek, but when he reached up to scratch it, his hand came away wet with tears. Nicky’s words, tinny and wrecked with sorrow, floated back into his head.

It suddenly struck him that Nicky was an ocean away, alone with his grief. Booker pushed himself to his feet, holding out a hand to Nile.

“Come on. We have to go to Malta.”

They fought on the trip, during a two-hour layover in Spain. Exhausted, hungry, and grieving, it was no surprise their tempers ran unusually short.

“What do you mean, let him be?” Nile assuredly did not yell. She was simply disagreeing loudly. “He’s lost his life partner of a thousand years, Book! He needs support - he needs family.”

“And what makes you think we can be that for him? What makes you think we can even start to fill the void left by Joe’s absence?!”

“It’s not about filling the damn void-”

“You don’t know what it’s like! When I lost my mortal wife, I felt like I’d lost everything! Even though I had Andy, and Joe, and Nicky, and- and you.”

“You were entitled to your grief, Book. So is Nicky. But I lost people too, so don’t you dare tell me I don’t know what it’s like. I’m immortal, too. I’ve lost my parents. It’s not just you.”

“No, that’s not- Listen! It took me centuries, centuries, to overcome that grief. I didn’t want to. I wouldn’t have done it if I had a choice. All I’m saying is… Nicky has a choice, Nile. He’s mortal.”

Nile’s eyes went wide. “So you’re saying we just- let him take his own life?!”

“I’m saying it’s not our decision to make! And it’s not… morally wrong or something if he chooses that. Look, chronic pain is real, Nile, whether it’s physical or emotional. Everyone who can has a right to opt out.”

“This isn’t the same thing as euthenasia, Book.”

“It’s not so different either, is it?”

There was a minute of silence as they stared daggers at each other across the terminal bench. Then Booker sighed.

“They’re closer than we could ever imagine, Nile. They’re one soul, two bodies. If he wants to go, we have to let him go.”

Nile sat down, running a hand down her face in devastation. “What about the letter?”

“What letter?”

“You know what letter. Joe’s letter. He asked us for one thing, Booker. One thing only. And that was that we don’t let Nicky die of a broken heart.”

“It doesn’t matter. Joe’s not here. Nicky is.”

“How could you dismiss his last wishes like that?”

“Nile, look at me. What do you think Joe wants above all else? What’s the only thing he’s ever really wanted?”

“For Nicky to be happy,” Nile whispered after a beat. “Love, can’t we at least try? Can’t we just… be there for him?”

“Of course,” Booker said, sitting down next to her and taking her hand. “Of course. But we cannot choose for him, amour. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Okay,” Nile sniffled, not entirely convinced. “Okay. I’m sorry I shouted at you.”

“I’m sorry, too. I’m just really…” Booker waved a hand in the air, trying to find the words. “Broken. I feel broken. Like I’m not myself.”

“I understand. I feel like that, too.”

“Hey. We don’t board for another 20 minutes. Can I get you a coffee?”

Nile managed a tired half-smile. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

***

In the end, it took four days of sleeping on Nicky’s couch for them to convince Nicky to drink water. It was another two days before he could keep down any food.

On the ninth day, Nicky broke down in front of them for the first time, crying his heart out as Booker and Nile just held him, murmuring gentle nothings and waiting out the tears.

They decided, at length, to take the year off from missions. They stayed with Nicky in the large house, trying to make it feel less empty. The grief would hit each of them at different times, and when it did, the other two would be there, always ready to lend a shoulder to cry on.

Within a year, the depression was slowly starting to lift. None of them had quite moved on, but they were very deliberately trying to make peace with this new reality.

Nicky fell back on simple rituals. Across from his bed, where he could see it first thing in the morning and last thing at night, he pinned up one of Joe’s charcoal self-portraits. Nicky loved it for how raw and alive it was in its beauty; not simply an image of Joe, but one that still carried traces of his fingertips in the sweeping strokes, the perspective of his eyes in the lighting.

Every morning, Nicky would kiss the tips of his fingers and press them to the bottom of the portrait in benediction. Then, he would close his eyes, letting the love and sorrow flow freely in his chest for a few minutes.

“I will see you again, hayati,” he would say. “Wait for me by the gates of Heaven, just as you did by the gates of Jerusalem. I will be with you again soon.”

It was a ritual that Nile and Booker supported wholeheartedly.

“Tell Joe to say hi to Andy for me,” Booker would add.

“Tell Joe I miss him. No one else will geek out with me over the Impressionist Movement,” Nile would grumble.

Sometimes, Nicky thought, it was like Joe was simply away on a mission. Like he would walk back through the door at any moment.

“Maybe he never left,” Nile mused once when Nicky voiced this thought. The three of them were sitting on the veranda, sipping hot tea and watching people mull about on the street.

Nicky frowned. “I want his soul to be at peace, Nile. Not wandering around like a ghost.”

“You know what they say. Not all who wander are lost.”

“I do feel like he’s here, sometimes,” Nicky confessed. “People say that your loved ones never truly leave you, that they stay alive in your heart, but I always figured it was a metaphor. I never imagined it could feel so real.”

“Can I ask you something, Nicky?” Booker’s voice shook slightly with hesitation.

“Hmm, go ahead.”

“How- how did you survive?”

Nicky rubbed his eyes. “Joe would never forgive me if I didn’t. That was the main reason. But I also believe that this is my penance.”

“For what?”

“For how we met. For what I did to him, to his people, his family. All this pain - being without him, mourning him - this is what finally cleanses me of my actions. It hurts, every day it hurts, but I can’t bring myself to run from it.” He stared down into his tea for a long moment. “I will continue on until it is my time, because it’s what my Joe would have wanted.”

***

Three years after Joe’s passing, Nicky finally gathered the courage to sort through his things. As he carried a stack of notebooks from the closet to the bed, one slipped to the ground and fell open.

Nicky set the others down and picked it up, running his fingertips over the page. It was a poem, written in Joe’s familiar cursive.

Empires rise and fall In a blink of God’s eye, The laws of nature bend As what’s mortal becomes divine. And the realization dawns When I see I’m left behind, Humankind’s greatest inheritance Is losing something to time.

As Nicky contemplated this, his cell phone blared to life on the nightstand. He reached for it distractedly.

“Hello?”

“Nicky,” Nile gasped on the other end.

“Nile? Dio, isn’t it like 3AM there?”

“Yeah, I woke up. How fast can you get to Medina?”

“Uh… I could book a flight for a few hours out?”

“Great, do that. Booker and I are already on the way to the airport.”

“Wha- Nile, slow down. What’s going on?”

There was a brief pause. Then-

“We had this dream. There’s a new one.”

[adenei]

Hermione doing everything to seduce Ron but fails miserably. A hilarious Valentine's day fic. XD.

Hi anon! At first you had me stumped, but the idea started to unfold, and I enjoyed writing this one in the end. Please enjoy their first Valentine’s Day together

Warning: Implied Smut, but no actual Smut. 

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

Valentine’s Surprises

She’d read the books. She’d gotten special permission from the Headmistress. Hermione was fully prepared to give Ron the best Valentine’s Day surprise. This was the first Valentine’s Day that they were actually together and could celebrate properly, and she’d have to make it extra special because she probably wouldn’t get to see him for his birthday since it fell during the week this year.

It’d been six weeks since they’d seen each other over Christmas hols, and this whole long distance thing was getting old pretty quick for Hermione. She looked in the mirror and observed herself. Demelza had helped with her makeup, and she’d managed to tame her hair down a bit using Sleakeazy’s. It had a nice waviness to it, and was pulled back into a side plait.  She smiled as she stared down at her overnight bag. Massage oil, sexy red lingerie and a silk robe, the fuzzy throw blanket that was wrapped in decorative paper, rose petals and bath bombs...and a change of clothes for class tomorrow.  

If Hermione had planned everything out properly, Ron would be in for the surprise of his life. She knew he and Harry always went to the Burrow for Sunday dinner, normally arriving at four and getting back around seven. It was 4:30 now, and Hermione was heading to Professor McGonagall’s office, where she was planning to floo to Grimmauld Place. She had two and a half hours to bake biscuits, and set things up before setting herself up in his bed for him to come home and find her. 

Upon arriving at the Headmistress’ office, she was reminded that she needed to return at 8:30 the following morning, and Hermione profusely thanked her again for allowing her to leave. She stepped into the fireplace and in a few short moments found herself in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. The boys had really done a fantastic job updating the home, making it brighter and more welcoming. 

Hermione set her bag down and began summoning the ingredients she needed to bake his favorite biscuits. Molly had shared the recipe. She only bothered with checking the ingredients because ‘if you could read, you could cook,’ right? Hermione quickly set to work preparing all the ingredients per the directions until she hit step seven. 

Wait...how was she even supposed to do that? She understood mixing the dry and the wet ingredients together normally, but there was a spell written, and having never read any magical cookbooks, Hermione was at a loss for what to do. She began panicking, looking around the kitchen for some sort of ‘how to’ book to help her through this. Of course the boys didn’t have one! She was opening and closing every cupboard she could find as she became more and more frantic. Then, she opened one particular cupboard, and a memory flashed before her eyes. 

Would it work? She had no idea, but she had to try. She was desperate for this night to go perfectly. “Kreacher?” she asked softly. At first nothing happened, but then a loud POP echoed through the kitchen and Kreacher stood before her. 

“Hello, Miss. What is you doing in Masters Potter and Weasley’s home?”

“Oh, thank goodness it worked!” Hermione said with a rush of relief. “I’m here to surprise Ron tonight, Kreacher. It was my intention to bake his favorite biscuits, but I’m afraid I- I don’t know how to get past step seven. Could you help me?”

Hermione was crestfallen. She wanted to do this all herself. She didn’t want to have to ask for help, but she couldn’t leave a half attempted recipe out for Ron to see when he got back.

“Yes, Miss. Where is the recipe?” Hermione pointed to the counter.

“Thank you, Kreacher! Do you mind if I watch?” Hermione tried to hide the disappointment in herself.

Kreacher gave a grumbled sigh and a curt nod as he set to work. Hermione should have known that the elf would use nonverbal magic on the recipe, so it was partially a waste of time to watch him work. He made quick work of the rest of the steps, and magically placed perfectly round balls on the baking sheet. “Miss forgot to turn on the oven.” He took care of it. “Would you like me to take care of the rest?”

“No, no, thank you Kreacher, I can take it from here. Thank you again!” Hermione said as Kreacher fell into a low bow and then disapparated out of sight. Hermione figured she had about fifteen minutes before the oven was heated to temperature, so she grabbed her bag and set to work upstairs. Somehow it was already after six. 

Hermione opened her bag and pulled out the bag of rose petals when she got to Ron’s room. She scattered them on the floor and over his bed,placing the package on the end of the bed and the massage oil on his nightstand. Satisfied with her work, she went back downstairs to find the oven was ready and she placed the cookies in the oven. Mrs. Weasley’s note said they needed to be baked for exactly ten minutes. Hmm, I wonder why so exact? Hermione thought. 

She set a timer for herself as she went back upstairs to draw the bath water and change into the lingerie and robe, keeping an eye on the timer. She’d gotten the top on, but was struggling with the bottoms when she got the minute warning. Giving up on them for now, she threw the silk robe around her and turned the water off, casting a quick warming charm over it as she hurried downstairs.

Hermione opened the oven door just as the timer went off and pulled them out. They looked perfect on top, but the bottoms were tinged a bit dark. It’s okay, at least you didn’t burn them! She turned the oven off and transferred the cookies to a cooling rack. Hermione magically washed the cookie sheet and double checked the recipe once more. Ugh, not another charm! She realized Mrs. Weasley had one more charm to set the cookies with at the end. I’m sure it’ll be fine without it, she thought because she did not want to call Kreacher back again. 

Hermione left the cookies to cool, and hurried back upstairs to figure out the mess of straps that were the bottom half of her outfit. It took a good ten minutes to get everything situated properly, and she checked herself in the bathroom mirror. She smiled softly and hoped she’d drive him mad with desire upon discovering her like this. Hermione didn’t often care what she looked like, and she wasn’t exactly one for seduction, but she wanted to do this for Ron. 

She checked to make sure the warming charm was still intact on the tub, and dropped one of the bath bombs in. Then, Hermione hurried into Ron’s adjoining bedroom, shut the door, and hung up the robe. She carefully climbed under his covers. Now, we wait.

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

Harry and Ron finally flooed home from the Burrow just before 7:30. Ron knew they were later than normal, but it wasn’t like he had anything better to do on Valentine’s Day. He cursed again because he should be able to spend it with Hermione, but she was at bloody Hogwarts. Harry had invited Neville and Seamus over around 8:00 since they all might as well be alone together on this particular holiday. 

“Uh, Ron,” he heard Harry say. “You didn’t bake biscuits before we left, did you?” Ron looked over and saw, were those his favorite biscuits? He didn’t even realize the sweet scent until Harry had said something.

“Er, no, mate..that’s odd,” Ron said. Harry made to pick one up, but having been poisoned before, Ron stopped him. “Harry, no! Better check with Kreacher first. We don’t have any bezoars lying around.”

Harry called Kreacher who appeared with a POP. “Kreacher, did you bake these while we were gone?”

“I helped, but it wasn’t me,” Kreacher croaked.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ron asked him.

“Surprise...doesn’t know how to bake with magic,” Kreacher muttered as he shook his head.

“Kreacher, is someone else here?” Harry asked as Ron did the homenum revelio spell. Kreacher nodded as the spell did in fact reveal a third person.

Ron looked back down at the cookies, which were his favorite. He looked at Harry, who said, “You don’t think…” 

“If it is, you’re on your own with Nev and Seamus,” Ron said as he sprinted up the stairs. His bedroom door was shut, and he definitely hadn’t left it that way earlier. He opened the door to see Hermione, scantily dressed and laying in his bed. His heart damn near stopped. “Bloody hell…” was all he could manage.

“It’s about time!” Hermione couldn’t help herself. She’d been waiting over a half hour and was starting to get nervous that he wasn’t coming home.

Ron shut the door and cast a quick lock and silencing charm on the door. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he said as he met her on the bed and wasted no time in pulling her in for a passionate kiss.

“Wanted to surprise you,” she said.

“Reckon it worked. You’re bloody gorgeous, you know that?” Ron couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She was stunning. He’d never seen her in lingerie before, only dreamed of it. He was basking in the glory of having her here, when he saw the look of disappointment on her face. It was subtle, but it was there. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s- it’s nothing,” she said as she looked away.

“Tell me, ‘Mione. Please?” Ron reached out and touched her chin, directing her face back to meet his.

“It’s just, everything I planned has gone wrong! I couldn’t even bake your favorite cookies! I needed Kreacher’s help and I still missed that there was a spell at the very end, so they’re probably ruined. I planned for you to be home around 7, so the bath water is probably cold, and I couldn’t go anywhere to check because I didn’t want anyone seeing me in this. I probably should have just told you McGonagall let me off for the night. Then you would have known and we could have had more time.”

Ron chuckled. “Hermione, we have the whole night ahead of us, and I'm so glad you’re here. And it’s a good thing you didn’t leave the room in this because I want you in this all to myself, though I’m about two seconds from ripping it off you,” Ron gave her a dark, wanting look then. Six weeks was way too long.

He always knew how to instantly make her feel better. “I was hoping you’d say that,” she said, giving her best seductive smile. Ron was on her in an instant, hands exploring her body and relishing in the feel of her against him. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” she said against his lips.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, love,” Ron returned, becoming lost in the sexiness of his girlfriend.

[goulets]

Heartland

Chapter: 1/8 Pairing: Jason Todd/Dick Grayson Additional Characters: Colin Wilkes, Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake, Alfred Pennyworth Rating: T (for now) Case Fic/Kid Fic a03 link

Jason looks down at the baby, at watery brown eyes and tiny hands, fingers stretching out without knowing what they're reaching for. She yawns and makes a sucking noise, turning her head into his chest.

Damn it.

“We'll do shifts,” he says to Dick, making his tone as businesslike as possible. “I still have shit to do; I can't sit around playing house with you all day.”

Dick doesn't smile, but Jason can see that he wants to. “That sounds reasonable.”

“This is temporary. Just until we find the fuckers that want to take her out.”

“Sure it is.” Dick's all doe-eyed now, watching the baby settle down to sleep. “Welcome home, Jaybird.”

(colin)

It's a quarter past five and the first streams of daylight are curling over the horizon when Colin finally makes it back to the orphanage. He's down to his normal size, brass knuckles heavy in his pockets and slowing his already exhausted steps. It'll be at least three hours before the younger kids wake up; time enough to get one REM cycle in before he's got all those mouths to feed. Damian taught him about monitoring his REM cycles, how it's sometimes better to get three hours than four, how to stay sharp even when he's running on no sleep at all.

Even better, Dick once told him he's welcome at the manor anytime he needs to rest undisturbed, or a hot meal, or a 'flying lesson', whatever that means. Damian had thrown a batarang at his head when he'd suggested it, so Colin assumes it's some kind of inside joke. Regardless, he hasn't been back at the manor to take Dick up on his offer. Batman's back – the real Batman – and Colin would be the worst kind of liar if he said he wasn't a little bit terrified to face him, considering the circumstances of their first meeting.

A motion in the alley next to the orphanage catches his eye, and he stills. Vagrants don't usually start coming around until the soup kitchen opens, and all the thugs he's used to dealing with tend to wait until the kids are up to start messing with them. That's why Colin likes the walk back from patrol, despite his tiredness, despite the chill that rolls off the ever-present fog. The city's glow is muted at this hour, its inhabitants either just starting to stir or just turning in. He's alone with the smog and the molten aura of the streetlights, and there's a quiet about it all that makes even the bloodstains on his knuckles feel pure, purposeful.

That said, he really does need to invest in some gloves.

The figure in the alley is still moving, clumsy and hurried, and all at once Colin realizes what it is they're fumbling with. There's a sort of house-shaped capsule outside St. Aden's, a narrow chute with a small door that doesn't have a lock, and a weathered sign on the front that depicts the outline of an infant. It's a Safe Surrender site, a place where people can legally abandon their newborns, and someone is using it for the first time since Colin's been at the orphanage.

He creeps closer, keeping to the shadows.

The figure spends about five more seconds fumbling with something on the ground, then wrenches open the door to the capsule and deposits something inside. Colin's stomach twists; the blue light above the capsule illuminates, and he can hear a faint alarm going off in the nuns' office. He wonders if they'll even know what it's for. The figure startles at the light, hastily grabs what looks like an empty bag off the ground, and bolts.

Colin wants to follow, but finds himself unable to walk past the capsule without checking it, and once he sees what's inside, he knows there's no chance of him giving chase. The baby is sleeping, definitely not a newborn, but not more than a few months old. Its tiny body is wrapped in a dirty blanket, wisps of black hair sticking out from an unprotected head. Colin supposes he wouldn't have needed to pursue whoever dropped it off; for all intents and purposes, they might think they're doing the right thing. St. Aden's won't turn the baby away, and it's a better option than leaving it in a gutter or a dumpster, which, in Gotham, is not a thing unheard of.

The baby stirs as a stiff breeze swirls through the alley, making Colin shiver. The nuns will be dressed and out in five minutes, give or take. They'll at least put a hat on the baby, Colin thinks. He doesn't know much about babies, but he knows they need hats. The orphanage has baby hats, and diapers, and blankets, albeit thin ones, most with holes. They might even have a spare teddy bear for when the baby has nightmares. No one comforts you when you have nightmares at St. Aden's. The nuns aren't big on hugs, even the babies they hold as little as possible.

Colin may not know a lot about babies, but he knows what happens when you don't hold them. The kids at the orphanage who've been there since infancy are a testament to that. Colin shivers again, thinking of vacant eyes and hunched shoulders. Pale skin and raw voices. Underdeveloped, broken bodies, floating in the river.

The light in the nuns' office comes on. Less than a minute now. Before he can fully process what he's doing or why he's doing it, Colin scoops the baby out of the capsule and cradles it carefully in his arms, walking briskly out of the alley the way that he came. The fog feels damper; it clings to him like it means to shield him from view. As an afterthought, Colin takes off his own hat and uses it to cover the baby's head.

***

“What is so urgent,” Damian snarls, swinging into the garage and making Colin jump and almost topple over, “that it couldn't wait at six in the fucking morning?”

Moving past his initial alarm, Colin feels relief wash over him at seeing his friend. Damian is decked out in his Robin costume and, all things considered, no grumpier than usual. “I'm so glad you're here,” he says in a rush. “I think – I think I screwed up, and I don't know what to do. Um.”

He decides not to draw it out, and instead steps aside, gesturing to the side compartment of his motorcycle. The baby is still sound asleep; he's wrapped his jacket around it as well. He won't die from the cold, but he worries that the baby might.

“What the – ” Damian blinks at the sleeping infant, then points to Colin without looking away. “Explain.”

Colin does. “And I thought if I called you, you might know what to...because you and Batman have handled this kind of stuff, right? You know who to, um.” He pauses, and realizes that he doesn't actually know why his first instinct was to call Damian, aside from the fact that he really has no one else to call. He wraps his arms around himself and lets out a short breath. “What do we do?”

“There's no 'we',” Damian says automatically, just like Colin knew he would. “You can't take care of a baby. You're ten. You have to put it back.”

Colin doesn't move. He knows Damian is probably right. “I just,” he starts to say, searching for the words. He's so tired he can barely think straight. “I guess I wanted it to have a chance. You know? Kids at the orphanage...kids like me, we don't get a lot of choices. Everyone ends up being a bad guy or a victim.” He swallows. “We don't need any more of either in this town.”

Damian scowls and rubs at his mask absently. “You're not either one of those things.”

Colin look at his fist and squeezes it, concentrating. Within a minute, his forearm is as big around as his leg. “No, I'm not,” he says. Damian has gone very still. Colin closes his eyes and feels his way back to his normal size, flexing his hand once it's shrunk back down. “Not anymore.”

“I – ” Damian cuts himself off, clenching his jaw. “Fine. We'll take it back to the manor. We have to go now, before they realize I'm gone.”

Colin bites back a grin and scoops the baby up, cradling its head carefully against his chest. The baby's face isn't cold anymore, which gives him an unexpected surge of elation, and he practically skips to Damian's side, earning a severely reproachful look from his friend.

“How did you get here?”

“I swiped Father's keys,” Damian says dryly, holding them out and pressing a button. Brilliant headlights illuminate the alley outside the garage, and Colin's jaw drops as a sleek, two-door Batmobile pulls up in front of them.

“How did – ”

“Remote autopilot. It drives itself.”

“Whoa.”

Damian rolls his eyes and presses another button, making the roof retract halfway. He swings in over the door and says, “Don't scratch the interior.”

Colin slides in beside him, awestruck. He's in the freaking Batmobile. If everything under the sun goes wrong with this sort-of kidnapping, even if he winds up in jail, it'll be so worth it.

***

(jason)

Jason's not having a particularly good day.

Scratch that, it's nine in the morning, and Jason's already not having a particularly good day.

“Where did you say you heard this?” Bruce asks, frowning at his computer screen. Translation: which parts of this are you lying about, Jason?

“Oh, you know,” Jason says, not caring to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. “Me and some of my League buddies were doing tapas over at Ocho, and you know how they get when the wine starts pouring.” Bruce glares at him, and he glares right back. “All I know is Shiva's overseas for the foreseeable future. Just thought I'd share, since I heard you were looking. But whatever you want her for, I'm telling you, she probably didn't do it. This time.”

Bruce stares at him, cold and still as a statue. Jason wants to hit himself. Idiot move, coming here. Not like the Great Bat Detective needs his legwork anyhow.

He squares his shoulders and says, “Hey, take it or leave it. Which, speaking of, I'm gonna go ahead and leave now.”

Bruce's silence follows him out, and Jason practices the tried-and-true strategy of stirring up old resentments to mask the hurt. Not like he'd expected old Batsy to fall all over himself with excitement on account of a visit from his fallen son, but there's a cold reception, and there's the patented Bruce Wayne Freeze-Out. If Jason had imagined their shared history of returning from the dead would bring them closer together, he'd been sorely mistaken.

“Will you be joining us for breakfast, Master Jason?” Alfred asks, wiping his hands on a dish towel as Jason attempts to hustle past the kitchen. Habit has him pausing, because you just don't blow off Alfred, and that small hesitation is all it takes for the smells wafting out of the kitchen to hit him head-on. And oh, do they hit him. Pancakes, eggs, bacon – turkey bacon, Jason's favorite, of course Alfred remembers that stupid little detail. He probably also remembers that Jason is pathologically incapable of refusing food. Bastard.

“I'm not really – ” he starts to say hungry, but his stomach picks that exact moment to let loose a traitorous growl that echoes down the hallway and probably wakes up any still-asleep inhabitants of the manor.

Alfred, to his everlasting credit, doesn't even flinch. Jason heaves a sigh. “Yeah, all right. Just a bite, I guess.”

“I'll set a place for you.” Like the old man hasn't already.

Jason tugs off his gloves and makes his way to the sink to wash up. No telling what's living under his nails these days, but it's probably better not to ingest it.

“This is really good, Alfie,” he says through a thick bite of pancake. “Damn. I hope the new kid knows how good he's got it.”

“I'm afraid I haven't met anyone quite as enthusiastic about my cooking as you, Master Jason. Except, on occasion – Master Richard!”

“Hey, Alfie! Man it smells good, what's the occasion?” A shirtless, pajama-pants clad Dick Grayson bounds into the kitchen, more golden retriever than man, and stops on one foot with his face six inches above the bacon pan, breathing in. “Hey, is that turkey bacon?” He whirls around. “Jason!”

“Um.” Jason goes very stiff in his seat, teeth locked together around a forkful of eggs. Chew, swallow. He hadn't know Dick was here; hadn't figured any of the bat clan would even be awake at this charming daylight hour, except Bruce, who Jason's convinced deprogrammed the biological need to sleep out of his system years ago. “Hey.”

Dick looks pleased to see him, but confused. He's still on one foot. Jason represses the childish urge to throw something at him; knock him over like a big stupid bowling pin. “What are you doing here?”

“Just came by to drop off some intel,” he shrugs, fidgeting with his napkin. “You know how it is. Spend enough time cracking skulls, more than brain tissue leaks out.”

When Dick doesn't react beyond placing both feet on the ground and pursing his lips disapprovingly, Jason puts on his best shit-eating grin. Ah, ruining family meals. Just like old times.

“Thanks for the grub, Alfie,” he calls, swinging his legs over the side of his chair. “Think I've overstayed my welcome now, so I'm just be on my way.” He deliberates for a moment before snatching the last piece of turkey bacon off his plate, then walks briskly out of the kitchen and towards the front door.

“Jason – wait up a second.” Dick's voice behind him, close behind him, practically a whisper. Jason turns and takes a deliberate step backward, putting space between them. He's fairly sure he can take Dick hand-to-hand, but he wants to be as close to the exit as possible when he does.

“What?” he demands, more roughly than he needs to. He shifts his hip to feel the handle of his knife pressing into it; the exact shape he'll mold his palm to if he needs to draw it.

Dick crosses his arms and stares him down steadily. It's a mistake to make eye contact with him, because Dick's stare isn't like Bruce's, shrewd and penetrating, it's not a gaze that takes any effort to hold. Quite the contrary – Jason's always had trouble breaking eye contact with Dick. Bruce's stare goes through him, turns him inside out, but Dick's grips him, surrounds him, takes the full measure of him without pulling everything ugly to the surface. It's unnerving. He'd rather face Bruce any day.

“You don't have to leave just because I walked into the room.”

He shouldn't be able to project so much earnestness in nothing but faded Superman sleep pants, Jason thinks. It defies human nature.

“It was more of a sashay,” he smirks, still not blinking. “And it's not on your account, don't worry. I just have shit to do.”

“You should come by more often,” Dick presses.

It's all Jason can do not to throw his head back and laugh. “Right,” he says, narrowing his eyes. “That's gonna happen over Bruce's dead body.”

There's a flash of pain on Dick's face, and Jason thinks his phrasing was probably ill-advised. Too soon and all. Oh well.

“That's not true,” Dick shakes his head, shaggy hair falling in front of his eyes. Jason feels a bizarre and fleeting urge to brush it away, makes it an immediate priority to repress desires like that as far down as they can possibly go. “Look, I know it hasn't always been easy – ”

Jason scoffs. “Oh, sure.”

“ – but if you'd just give him some time, I know he wants you back, Jason. You're family. And I think you know it too, or you wouldn't even be here.”

Defiant rage stirs in Jason's stomach, but this isn't the time or the place for that kind of reaction. He settles instead on indifference. “That's an old tune, Dickie. Might be time to learn some new ones.”

Dick's expression softens. Damnit. This is why he can't stand around talking to Dick, making fucking chitchat and this perverse, endless eye contact. They observe each other in circles, it's nearly impossible to hide, and Dick doesn't hide anything, which means Jason's at an automatic disadvantage. Every goddamn time.

It's pointless to bare his teeth in a grin and offer a sardonic wave, but Jason does it anyways. “It's been real, Boy Wonder. I'll catch you la – ”

“Shh.” Dick puts up a finger, frowning. He looks up the stairs. “Do you hear that?”

If this is another strategy to try and stall him, Jason's gonna start throwing punches. “Hear what?” he demands. He's about to tell Dick to go fuck himself – which, he probably can, fucking acrobat – no, bad visual, stop thinking about Dick naked, Jesus fucking Christ – when he hears it too.

It sounds like – “Is that a baby?” He looks sideways at Dick. “Bruce have a second love child already?”

Dick says, “I'll see you later, Jason,” and starts climbing the stairs.

Well, obviously Jason can't leave now.

They follow the cries down one of the many upstairs hallways, which, from the portraits and weaponry lining the walls, Jason figures must lead to Damian's room. Dick pauses outside a closed door, pressing his ear to it, and, curiosity getting the better of him, Jason follows suit.

“You have to get it to shut up! The whole mansion's probably heard it by now!”

“I'm trying!” an unfamiliar voice hisses, and there's the sound of a hiccup from a third unfamiliar voice. Presumably something babylike. “Do you think it's hungry?”

“How the hell should I know? This was your moronic idea, Colin, don't you know anything about babies?”

“Maybe we should google it.”

“I'm going to kill you. Actually, when Father finds out we kidnapped a fucking baby, he'll kill us both. I can't believe I let you talk me into this mess.”

The crying starts again. Dick looks at Jason and mouths, one, two, three, before pushing the door open and revealing their presence.

It's quite a scene. Damian's in half his costume, mask, boots, and cape discarded on the floor, and he's grinding his teeth at another boy, a redhead kid in a dirty checkered sweatshirt who looks to be around his age. The redhead kid looks horrified to see them standing there, first going furiously red, then white as a sheet. But the thing that really grabs Jason's attention is the baby – yep, a flesh-and-blood human infant – cradled awkwardly in the redhead kid's arms, screaming its tiny head off.

Dick looks between them, his eyes enormous. “Damian? Colin? What is this?”

It's a question, not an accusation. Jason has to hand it to him; Bruce would've had them sizzling on the grill the second the word 'kidnapped' reached his ears.

Colin says, “It's not what it looks like!”

Dick glances sideways at Jason. “Okay, but. I'll be honest, I'm not even sure what it looks like.”

Jason shrugs. “You kids abduct any babies lately?”

“We didn't abduct it,” Damian snarls. “Colin found it. Abandoned. It was my mistake to bring it here.”

The baby cries louder. It's a miracle Alfred hasn't come running yet.

“Someone dropped it at St. Aden's,” Colin says quickly, between bouts of screaming. “I just – I couldn't just leave it there, you don't know what it's like, growing up that way.” He clutches the baby to him fiercely, bitterness etched all over his face. “You might as well hand him over to the gangs right now, because that's where he'll end up.”

Dick looks horribly conflicted. Jason laughs out loud.

“So, what was your plan?” he asks incredulously. “Two ten year olds, teaming up to raise a baby? Which one of you's the mom?”

Dick's arm blocks Damian's sharp kick to Jason's face. “Thank you, Jason, that was helpful,” he says. “But, uh, what was the plan, exactly?”

Everyone looks to Colin, who shrinks visibly under their combined gaze. “I don't know,” he says in a small voice, nearly indecipherable beneath the baby's cries. “I hadn't really thought that far ahead. I just – I thought Batman could save him.”

It takes everything in Jason's face-saving book not to respond to that, but he barely manages to keep his mouth shut. Dick shoots him a look of gratitude, and he rolls his eyes. Obviously there are more pressing issues at hand than his lingering manpain; Jason's not that self-involved.

“Okay,” Dick says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Here's how we solve this. He – she? – we'll figure it out, whatever, is probably hungry. And wet. Did you two change its diaper?”

Damian and Colin look at each other and shrug helplessly. “Right.” Dick points one hand behind him. “I'm going to go to the kitchen; I know Alfred keeps formula in there somewhere. And we should have diapers in one of the emergency supply closets. I'll get that stuff. Jason, take the baby for a minute, would you? Colin looks like he's about to drop.”

Jason backs against the wall, saying, “Oh no, I don't – that's not a – ” but then the screaming bundle is being precariously extended towards him, and instinct has him reaching out to take it.

“Jesus,” he mutters, feeling the fragile weight of the baby in his arms. Can't be much more than ten pounds. He has handguns with more substance than this thing. “Where're you keeping those lungs, little guy?”

Silence falls over the room, and it takes Jason a minute to realize that he didn't spontaneously go deaf, the baby stopped crying. Its tiny eyes – brown, dark and wet – are blinking up at him like he's the most interesting thing in the world.

Oh, no.

This is a disaster.

He doesn't hear Dick's intake of breath so much as he feels it, which might be because he's holding his breath too, because the baby is looking at him, and damnit, this is the last fucking thing he needs in his life. “Go,” he says to Dick, inserting as much venom into his voice as possible, wrenching his eyes away from the baby's. “It's probably just going into shock or something.”

The baby farts.

“Okay, or that.”

Dick bites his lip hard, and ten different emotions of various intensities flash through Jason's gut. Then he's gone, cartwheeling down the staircase, knowing him.

Colin says, “Wow, it really likes you.”

Damian smirks. “I guess we know who the mom is.”

“Don't think because I've got a ten pound handicap I won't kick your ass, kid,” Jason snaps. It's an empty threat, and they all know it. For now anyways. Once the baby situation's dealt with, all bets are off.

Dick's back within five minutes, armed to the teeth with things more frightening to Jason than any weapon he can imagine. Diapers, wipes, blankets, bottles, even a tiny blue hat that looks handmade. Jason's heart thuds unevenly in his chest, recognizing Alfred's handiwork in the stitching; indisputable evidence that Bruce Wayne, Batman, was once a baby just like this one. It'd be hilarious, if he could push a laugh past the lump in his throat.

“Here.” Dick hands him a diaper. It has Mickey Mouse on it.

Jason shakes his head. “Nuh-uh. I didn't sign up for this shit. And I mean that in the literal sense; I did not put 'clean up baby shit' in my day planner today.” He thrusts the diaper back at Dick.

“Fine,” Dick snaps, holding his arms out expectantly. “Give me the baby. Damian, shake up this formula, will you?”

Damian snatches the bottle out of his hand and shakes it with the aggression of a paint mixer. Well, hey, at least he's dedicated.

The baby starts to fuss as it's transferred from Jason's arms to Dick's, and the lump in Jason's throat gets bigger. “Hey, hey,” Dick croons, settling the baby down on the rug and starting to unwrap its blanket. “You're okay, little guy. We got you – oh, I'm sorry,” he grins, glancing up at Jason. “Little girl, I'm guessing.”

Jason peers over his shoulder and sees that under the blanket, the baby is wearing tiny pink pajamas with little white and green flowers. Like the blanket, the pajamas are dirty. He wonders when the baby last had a bath.

Not your problem. He needs to get the hell out of here.

“Ooh, someone's got a full diaper,” Dick goes on. Jason wants to kick him in the back of the head. “Let's fix that, huh? Oh, yeah. We'll get someone on that right away.”

Jason jumps backward when Dick extends the dirty diaper to him, and Dick rolls his eyes. “It's just pee. Get over yourself, honestly.”

“Fuck you,” Jason growls. “I'm not part of this.”

Colin walks over with dogged footsteps and takes the diaper from Dick, folding it over until it's a tight little pocket that fits in the palm of his hand. He turns to Damian. “Where's the garbage?”

Damian jerks his head in the direction of the bathroom, and Dick glares at Jason as he refastens the baby's pajamas.

The baby's fussing turns into loud wails again, and Dick picks her – no, it, can't think of it as a person, damnit – up, rocking his arms gently. The baby cries, rubs its face on Dick's chest, and then turns its head and look directly at Jason.

“Aw, Jay. Looks like she's got a crush.”

“Please.” Jason rolls his eyes and tries to ignore the vise that's squeezing in his chest. He really, really needs to leave. Like, yesterday.

But then Dick starts feeding the baby, and Jason finds himself utterly rooted to the spot.

It figures that parenting is something that would come naturally to Dick. It seems like most things come naturally to him, particularly the things that terrify normal people, like leaping off tall buildings, running into the line of fire, taking on twenty armed goons with nothing but his stupid fucking escrima sticks. Dick cradles the baby with arms that've put hundreds of criminals on their asses, arms that are scarred all over, just like Jason's. He gazes down at the baby as it eats, murmuring praise, shifting slowly from foot to foot, and that damn thing won't stop looking at Jason, even while it's sucking enthusiastically at the bottle.

Footfalls behind him; a distinct step he'd know anywhere. “I took the liberty of digging up some clothes for our young guest,” Alfred says, as though nothing is out of the ordinary. “They're a bit dated, but I believe they should still be suitable.”

“Can we all get out of my room now?” Damian asks. “I'd like to change, and I'd prefer to do it without the entire household watching.”

Alfred nods. “Certainly, Master Damian. Master Richard, perhaps it would be prudent to bring this matter to Master Bruce at this time.”

“Yeah, okay,” Dick says, heavily, shooting another look at Jason. Why does he keep doing that? “Let's just get her fed and changed really quick.”

“Of course.”

As soon as they're downstairs, the baby spits out the nipple and screws up its face like it's going to start howling again. Jason doesn't know what it is, some kind of long-buried impulse, a skill set he never thought he'd had to begin with, but he's stepping forward with his arms outstretched, palms open and flat, like he could do a damn thing to keep the baby quiet.

Dick pegs him with a curious look, and Jason freezes. “You wanna hold her?”

“What? No,” Jason says, shoving his arms down to his sides. “I just – I thought you were gonna drop it. Her.”

Dick doesn't say anything, and Jason feels a flush creeping up his neck. “You know what, it seems like you guys have this all handled. I'm just gonna...go.”

He turns, and the baby starts crying again.

Jesus Christ in a goddamn handbasket, this is bad.

“If you wouldn't mind,” Dick says, carefully, “We could use the help. Until we figure out what to do.”

“He can help,” Jason protests, pointing at Colin.

“I actually, um,” Colin looks vaguely terrified, glancing guiltily between them. “I have to go, my kids – there's kids at the orphanage, I have to be there. For them.”

Jason doesn't think about the time he spent on the streets, doesn't relive those fun childhood memories for any reason, but they're a scar on his psyche, forever etched in, and he can't exactly make them go away, either. He remembers the kids from the orphanages, how little and lost they were, better cared for but more unloved than any of the other street kids. He remembers standing up for them as much as he remembers knocking them over and stealing from them. No kids are worse equipped to protect themselves. Colin looks like he weighs eighty pounds soaking wet, but Jason reasons that he wouldn't be friends with Damian if he couldn't take a hit.

Colin probably takes a lot of hits on behalf of his kids. The thought turns Jason's stomach, and he knows he can't ask him to stay.

Dick frowns and starts to say, “I'm sure – ”

“Go,” Jason says quickly, giving Colin a short nod. “It's fine, whatever. My shit can wait a few hours.”

Everyone stares at him. The baby is still crying.

“Oh, for fuck's sake. Fine, give me the damn kid.” He sets his jaw and takes the baby from Dick, expressly avoiding Dick's eyes, or any part of his face, for that matter. The baby fusses for a minute, then seems to catch sight of Jason's face again, and settles down at once.

Shit, shit, shit.

***

“You're doing this completely wrong,” Jason tells the baby as they make their way down to the Batcave. “I'm sure as hell not taking you home with me, I'll tell you that much. No offense.”

The baby coughs, and Jason finds himself holding it a little tighter. It's all very unnerving, the way he's already used to the shape of its small form in his arms, the way its head fits snugly into the soft spot of flesh between his shoulder and his breastbone. Alfred threw out the ratty blanket it was wrapped in and gave them a new one, along with a pink cotton onesie with a stiff lace collar. Purchased forty odd years ago by Martha Wayne, on the off-chance that she was having a baby girl. A little piece of trivia that Jason is going to any lengths necessary not to think about.

“It fits with the intel I got last week,” Tim is saying, “Qurac is a big job; she wouldn't be doing it alone.”

“No,” Bruce agrees, hunched over in front of his massive screen. “Perhaps the League of Assassins isn't behind this at all.”

“So either someone's setting it up to look like they...” Tim trails off, catching sight of Jason, or more accurately, the wiggling bundle in his arms. “Is that a baby?”

Jason looks down and gasps. “Holy shit, how did that get there?”

Dick rolls his eyes. Tim says, “Wait, it's not – ”

“It's not mine, Replacement. Don't give yourself a stroke deducing over there.”

Bruce turns in his chair to face them, frowning deeply. His eyes take in Dick, Jason, and the baby. “Where's Damian?”

Dick steps forward. “He went with Alfred to take Colin ho – back to St. Aden's.”

“Ah.” Bruce nods. “So that's where he went this morning.” His gaze lands on the baby. “I take it the infant came from the orphanage as well.”

“She's really sweet, Bruce.” Dick adopts a pleading voice. “Colin thought he was doing the right thing.”

“Colin can look after her when she's returned to St. Aden's,” Bruce says firmly. “The Mansion is no place for a baby.” He stands and walks over to Jason. “May I?”

It takes Jason a moment to realize that Bruce is asking his permission to hold the baby. He doesn't know what's more surprising, the fact that Bruce is asking at all, or the fact that he wants to refuse, to take the baby and run as far away as possible, to an alternate universe where parents don't abandon their kids or sell them out, where they don't let psychopaths murder them, where they'd rather burn the world down than let any harm come to another child on their watch.

He thinks that Bruce can probably see his struggle painted on his face as he waits for his answer. And he is waiting, because the question wasn't a formality, it's a real uncertainty, and Bruce is asking Jason whether or not he trusts him to take this small life and protect it, even if it's just for a few moments.

Jason's reflexive answer is a harsh and unforgiving fuck no, but that's not the end of it. There's something deeper inside him, something that's been climbing toward the surface for a while now, no matter how hard he tries to bury it, that tells another story. A lot of other stories.

Rather than sift through them, he bites his tongue and hands the baby over. He tells himself he won't look at Bruce to see his reaction, but how often do you get to see Batman with a baby?

Jason will die again a hundred times before he ever admits it, but the vision of Bruce, half-suited up, broad and unyielding and Batman, folding his arms into a cradling position for the baby, is actually pretty fucking charming. He wouldn't've guessed that Bruce had a lot of experience with small children, but he doesn't look uncomfortable. The baby whines and stirs, little hands feebly reaching up to clutch at the bat symbol on his chest, and Jason thinks he actually sees Bruce's mouth quirk in a smile.

“I'm just going to scan her handprint,” he says, addressing Jason.

Jason shrugs. “Whatever.”

The whining stops as soon as he takes the baby over to the enormous computer screen, and Jason hopes that all the lights and flashing images don't fry the baby's brain. There are shots of crime scenes, bodies with blood spilled onto the street, rotating in the corner of the screen, and Jason hopes the baby's subconscious doesn't file those images away for night terrors down the road. Although, if it's going back to the orphanage, it'll see the real thing soon enough.

There's an uplifting thought.

“Danielle Leigh Torres,” Bruce says after a moment. “Born the sixteenth of January. Parents Linda Torres – deceased, and Mitchell Howard, also deceased.”

“Wait a minute.” Tim's gone still with his hand hovering over the keyboard. “Mitch Howard – that's Big Mouth Howard's real name.”

Big Mouth Howard. Jason's heard the name – some lowlife, maybe a bookie? He doesn't know why it'd be significant to any of them, but the way Tim and Bruce are looking at each other suggests that there's something fairly major he's missing. Jason glances at Dick, and is relieved to see that he looks just as out of the loop.

“You two wanna clue us in?” Jason demands, stepping closer to the screen. “Who the fuck is Big Mouth Howard?”

Bruce continues scowling unfathomably at the screen, and Tim lets out a long exhale. “There's been a lot of activity in the East End this past week,” he says. “You guys have probably noticed.”

“Yeah, bunch of dealers got capped,” Jason confirms, still not understanding why this should matter so much to Batman. “Turf wars. Big fucking deal.”

Tim shakes his head. “Not just dealers. Cy Reynolds was Intergang, they bought out the Dragons’ territory a few months ago and have been pulling in major product from Venezuela. His whole family was taken out, all his lieutenants, all their families.” He pulls up a mug shot of a sneering, overweight man with some serious dental issues. “Big Mouth was one of them.”

“So, you're thinking professional hits.”

“Reynolds had a lot of enemies. Guy dipped his pen in way too many wells. We thought Intergang might've taken him out themselves, because he was something of a liability, but why take out the lieutenants?”

“And the families,” Dick adds, frowning. “Someone wanted to send a message.”

“Exactly. He's gotten on the wrong side of the al Ghuls more than once, and this is their style,” Tim continues, pulling up more detailed shots of the bodies. “That one's Linda Torres. She wasn't even married to Big Mouth, but they still got her.”

“League's got bigger fish to fry,” Jason says dismissively. “They wouldn't bother.”

“Yeah, well, you would know,” Tim replies, raising an eyebrow. “Anyways, we're thinking it's a move against Intergang now, not just Reynolds. I have a couple hunches, but we need to examine the bodies more closely to know for sure.”

“Bruce,” Dick says, “if they're really sending a message, they're gonna be looking for Danielle.”

Tim opens his mouth and shuts it. No one speaks, and, as if on cue, the bundle in Bruce's arms starts wailing again.

Something is squeezing Jason's lungs, making it hard for him to breathe normally. Danielle. The baby has a name, it's a goddamn person and it's – she's – been in this world for three fucking months and she's already got a price on her head. God almighty, what a piece of shit world they live in.

Jason grinds his teeth. “No way she goes back to that orphanage.”

Everyone turns to look at him. He ignores them and steps forward, extending his arms towards Bruce, who slides Danielle over to him without protest.

“Jason – ”

“Forget it, Bruce. I don't know what paragraph of your moral code stipulates that you have to throw a fucking baby to the wolves instead of, oh, I don't know, protect her, but you can shove it up your ass. I'll fucking take her if it's that goddamn important to you. And if anyone comes for her, they die.”

“ – I was going to say, I think she should stay here. For the time being.”

Jason pauses. “Oh.”

“Provided, of course, that someone will be able to look after her. Other than Alfred.”

“I'll stay,” Dick volunteers. Of course he does. Fucking boy scout. “Jason?”

Jason looks down at Danielle, at watery brown eyes and tiny hands, fingers stretching out without knowing what they're reaching for. She yawns and makes a sucking noise, turning her head into his chest.

Damn it.

“We'll do shifts,” he says to Dick, making his tone as businesslike as possible. “I still have shit to do; I can't sit around playing house with you all day.”

Dick doesn't smile, but Jason can see that he wants to. “That sounds reasonable.”

“This is temporary. Just until we find the fuckers that want to take her out.”

“Sure it is.” Dick's all doe-eyed now, watching Danielle settle down to sleep. Idiot. “Welcome home, Jaybird.”

***

[connordavidscamera]

Fire Drill Promises | Connor Brashier

A/n: this isn’t part 2 of the last fic, but I am still working on that one. However, I had this idea and I had to write it. So I really hope you like it.

Summary: You meet a cute boy during a late night fire drill.

Warnings: fluff?

Word count: 2.3k

*** 

The first few weeks on campus are always a whirlwind of activities. However, there’s one that no one ever wants to participate in - especially not at three in the morning. Fire drills. It’s one thing to have fire drills that sound like a police siren is blaring right in your ear, but it’s another thing to have one that sounds like a police siren with bright white flashing lights and a woman’s voice that sounds like it’s not a fire, but the commencement of the purge. 

So now here we are, a bunch of sleepless zombies, standing across the street from our dorms that are obviously not on fire, waiting for the campus police to come tell us that it’s safe to go back inside. Most of us are yawning and rubbing the sleep from our tired eyes. Others are curling into their blankets - even though it’s uncharacteristically hot for this time of night. 

It feels like we’ve been out here for ten minutes at this point - good to know that if there actually was a fire, the campus police and fire department would take their sweet, precious time.

“Why are you the only one not totally annoyed by this?” A boy with crossed arms and sleepy eyes asks me. He’s not wearing a shirt, however I don’t know why that matters, most of the guys out here aren’t wearing one. He just.... Catches my eye a little more. 

“I wasn’t asleep yet.”

“It’s three in the morning,” he grumbles.

I nod, “Yeah, I was working on an assignment.”

He hums, pushing his messy hair out of his pretty blue-green eyes. “I don’t want this to be too forward, but can I rest my head on your shoulder? I don’t think I can hold myself up that much longer.”

I laugh lightly, “Tell me your name first and the answer’s yes.”

He shakes his head with a sleepy smile. “I’m Connor. I live on the third floor.”

“Well Connor from the third floor, I’m y/n from the first floor. And yes, you can rest your head on my shoulder.”

He smiles gratefully before plopping his head on my shoulder, his hair tickling the side of my neck. “Y/n from the first floor, you are an angel,” he mumbles. “Gotta buy you something to thank you.”

I hum, “Bet you say that to all the girls that let you lay on their shoulder at 3 a.m.,” I joke

“Only if it’s during a fire drill,” he jokes back.

“Well that’s good to know.”

“Mhm, can I buy you coffee?”

I chuckle, “Right now? You are aware of the time right?”

He growls and I feel a chill run down my spine. “Not right now. Too sleepy to drive. In the morning though?”

“You really don’t have to.”

“You guys can come back inside now!” One of the officers yells from the main entrance of the dorms. 

Connor sighs and picks his head up. “Well?” he says as we walk back to the dorm. “What do you say?”

“It’s just a shoulder, Connor. You don’t have to get me anything.”

“Come one, a good cup of coffee for a good shoulder.”

“Are you sure?” I ask as he holds the door open for me. 

He nods. “You were kind enough to offer a stranger your shoulder. Now, to repay you, I would like to buy you a cup of coffee, and the opportunity to not be a stranger anymore.”

“Hmm… you are quite a sweet talker at this time, aren’t you?”

He looks down, his cheeks reddening. “Is that a yes?”

We stop in front of my dorm and I nod. “Sure.”

“Okay. My first class is at 10 tomorrow. Are you free before that?”

I nod, “My class is at 10 too.”

He nods. “Okay. I’ll pick you up at 8:45?”

I look down, trying to hide my, hopefully not too obvious, blush. “Um… yeah. That sounds good.”

“Alright. I’ll see you then, y/n from the first floor.”

“See you then, Connor from the third floor.”

---

I’m looking over my outfit for probably the hundredth time since putting it on. It’s just coffee, I tell myself. It’s not a big deal. 

“Why have you been up for the past hour? Your pacing is not a good start to my morning,” my roommate complains from my door. 

I cringe, “I’m sorry. I was trying to be quiet.”

She shrugs, “Eh, I’ve been up longer than you. Now why are you pacing?”

I sigh, “The fire alarm last night?”

“Mhm? What about it?”

“Well, I met a guy.”

“At three in the morning?”

“Yeah, well, he lives on the third floor. And he was really tired, and he asked to lay his head on my shoulder while we were waiting to go inside and -” “Was he cute?”

“The pacing wasn’t any indication?”

She laughs and rolls her eyes and walks into my room, plopping herself down on my desk chair. “So what’s the problem?”

“Is this outfit okay, or is it too ‘hey, you saw me severely sleep deprived with my hair in a mess and no makeup at three in the morning and now I’m trying to compensate for that by wearing a really deep v-neck?’”

“Well,” she tilts her head to the side. “It definitely says, ‘hey look at my boobs.’ But I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I’d change the jeans though. The ones with the big rips at the knees. Makes it look a little more effortless. When is he supposed to get here?”

“Uh,” I check my phone that’s charging by my bed. “Six minutes,” I let out a deep breath, grabbing my jeans from the shelf of my closet. I run to the bathroom to change the jeans quickly and then come back out to look in the mirror. She was right. It did look better. “Okay, shirt. Yes or no?”

“I think you should wear one, yes.”

“Come on. Is it too much for coffee before class?”

“No. I think it’s perfect. So, what’s his name? Or did you guys skip the formalities?”

I roll my eyes, folding my jeans and tossing them on my bed. “His name is Connor. He has the most gorgeous eyes I have ever seen in my life, and he somehow knows how to handle my late night sarcasm and we only spend, what, five minutes together.”

“Five minutes and you’re already smitten with the guy.”

“If you saw him you’d know.”

“Well I’ll see him in… four minutes,” she says, checking the time. 

“Yeah, no. You can’t meet him.”

She gasps, “What? Why not?”

“Because two things could happen if you did. One, you could embarrass me. Or two, he could realize  that of the two of us, he picked the wrong one to lay his shoulder on last night. So just, please?”

She frowns. “You’re wrong, but I guess if it’s really that important to you -”

“It is.”

“Then I’m going to shower. I will be out of your hair when he gets here.”

“Thank you, you’re wonderful.”

She hums and leaves my room, retreating back to hers to grab her stuff. “Oh, and y/n?” she says just as she’s about to enter the bathroom. 

“Yeah?”

“You look beautiful,” she smiles, closing the door just as a knock sounds from our door. 

I’m silently freaking out as I quickly grab my bag and phone before opening the door. “Hi,” I say quietly. He looks different - the same, but different. His eyes are greener in this light. His hair is only slightly styled, but it’s clear he’s run his hands through it a few times to loosen it up. But he still wears that sleepy smile, only lifting one corner of his mouth. 

“Hi,” he rocks back and forth on his heels, his hands in his pockets. “You ready?”

I nod. “Mhm.” I close the door behind me and we both walk silently toward the main exit. 

“So,” he speaks first. “Did you finally get some sleep last night?”

“Yeah, a little bit,” I answer. “What about you? I’m assuming you didn’t fall asleep on anyone else’s shoulder,” I tease.

He just laughs and shakes his head, “No, I didn’t. My roommate would probably have me committed if I tried to fall asleep on him.”

I nod, laughing too. “Well then I feel ultra special.”

“Well that’s because you are.”

I can feel my cheeks heat up, and I turn my head away from him, watching the people walking around us. “It’s a pretty morning,” I say, noting how the sun is just barely peeking through the clouds. 

“Yeah, it is. So pretty,” he confirms, and when I dare to glance in his direction, he’s already looking back at me. 

We don’t say much else on our walk to the on campus coffee shop, and if anyone was paying just the slightest attention to us, they could probably tell that we were tense and awkward. Which, I mean, we are, but I wish it wasn’t quite as obvious. When we get up to order, I reach for my wallet in my bag, but Connor stops me with a gentle hand over mine. “I’m paying, remember?”

“Um, right,” I bite the inside of my cheek. “Sorry,” I mumble as he hands his card to the barista. She’s an older woman, and she gives us a sweet smile. 

“First date, loves?” she asks, handing Connor his card back.

My eyes widen and I start to stammer out, and just as I’m about say we’re not on a date, Connor speaks up.

“Yeah. First date. Can you tell we’re nervous?” he chuckles, stuffing his card in his wallet and into his back pocket. 

“It’s good to be nervous. Means you care. I’ll have your drinks right out, honey,” she nods. “And don’t worry,” she says before we leave to find a seat. “It gets easier.”

I’m blushing. I know I am. I can feel it. And it just gets even worse when Connor takes my hand and leads me to a booth in the corner. 

We both let out a deep breath once we’re seated. “So-”

“So-” We say at the same time.

“Oh,” he chuckles. “You first?”

“So this is a date?” I question, fiddling with the bracelet on my wrist. 

“Well, I mean. I didn’t - if you’d like it to be?” he finally says.

I nod, “Okay… so what do people do on first dates?”

He laughs nervously, “I have no idea. I think, I think we’re doing it right. We’re supposed to be nervous, right?”

I shrug, “I would assume so?”

“Okay, then um… We should just get to know each other?”

“I think that’s how most people do it,” I tease. 

“Good. Good, then uh… let’s do that?”

---

“Hey, you never told me how that coffee date went,” my roommate says a few days later while I’m washing my face, getting ready for bed. “Was it bad? Was he not as cute as you remembered? Was he an asshole? He was an asshole, wasn’t he?”

“God, no. No, I just - I don’t know. We’ve texted a little bit. I just haven’t seen him around since then I guess?”

She nods. “Mhm, and why not? Do you not want to? Come on, you have to give me all the horny details!”

I scoff, “There are no horny details! We had coffee, we talked and got to know each other a bit. Exchanged numbers and social media, and then he walked with me to class. And I haven’t seen him since. So? I don’t know. Maybe he came to his senses already.”

“Or he’s lost his mind.”

I roll my eyes, turning off the faucet and grabbing my towel to dry my face. “Look it’s not a big deal anyway.”

“Are you sure? You seemed pretty taken with him before coffee.”

“I’m sure, and no offense, I just really don’t feel like talking about it anymore?”

She nods. “Okay, well. I’m going to my friend's apartment. I won’t be back tonight, so I will see you tomorrow?”

I nod. “Okay, sure. Be safe.”

“Always.”

I’d only been asleep for twenty minutes when that damn fire alarm went off again, startling me awake. “Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I groan, sliding out of bed, trying to find a pair of shoes without having to turn on the light. I grab my keys when that annoying woman’s voice goes off for the third time. I shuffle out of the building with a bunch of others that are also clearly as annoyed as I am, if not more. 

I’m rubbing my hand over my face when a familiar voice sounds in front of me. “You look like you need a shoulder to rest your head on.”

I roll my eyes. “Is that observation, or are you offering?”

Connor laughs. “It’s an offer. Don’t have to take it though.”

I whine. “Come here before I pass out on the grass,” I reach for his arm and curl into his side when he’s close enough. I hum as he wraps his arm around me. “Thank you. You’re an angel.”

“Oh yeah?” Even though I’m not looking at him, I know he’s smirking. 

“Yeah, gonna have to buy you a coffee to repay you.”

“Or… you could let me take you on another date? One that we both know is a date before the waitress asks us about it.” I look up at him through hooded eyes, “You’re really asking me on a date at two in the morning?” 

“Well that depends on what your answer is.”

I nod. “Yes. I would like that… just,” I yawn and wrap my arms around his waist, burrowing into his chest. “Remind me that I said yes in the morning, okay?”

“Okay? Why’s that?”

“Because I’m afraid I’m dreaming.”

***

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