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yourmidnightlover · 4 years ago

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drivers license

Summary: based on this request. i kind of changed it a bit and made it the ‘story behind drivers license’ if that makes sense. the events that lead up to her writing this song in the future.

TW: fluff/angst, a bit of kissing, sad ending, i think that’s it?

WC: 4,349

masterlist

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there was always a certain kind of tenderness when you would return home to visit your dad. you rarely got to do so, especially being on your first national tour. so when any opportunity arose to see him, you took it as a blessing.

your dad had told you about a guy your age he had taken under his wing and began to mentor, you had just never met him. sebastian? samuel? his name escaped you. your dad had just mentioned how he was a little older than you, and a bit different than most people you would meet at the fbi academy.

because of knowing how much your dad liked this boy, it was no surprise that when you were dropped off by the taxi cab you took you saw a guy matching the description your father had given you a while ago.

there he stood, a book in hand as he leaned against the post of your dad’s porch, completely unaware of the world around him. he was engrossed in the book, lost in another place you wondered if he would ever want to show you.

“y/n!” your dad began making his way down the steps of his cabin to greet you. “spencer, why don’t you help her out a bit?”

“oh-uh, ri-right. yes, of course,” he stuttered out before making his way to help you get the remaining bag out of the trunk.

“hi, spencer i assume?” you squinted, extending your had to shake his before remembering what your dad had told you. “oh wait, i’m sorry. you don’t like hand shakes,” you laughed off, retreating your hand and opting to just wipe your palm on your pants.

you finally got a good look at him. his hair was slicked back neatly, almost too neatly for someone in the fbi. his eyes were a bit sunken in, but not in a worrisome way, more in a way that made you wonder what those eyes had seen to make them that way. his nose, an adorable button nose that was a bit upturned at anything beneath him. lips, the doors of breath, the plump pinkness of them as he softly bit the inside of it from... nerves? habit. what words would fall out of them that would engross your being entirely.

he was attractive. maybe in a bit of an unconventional way, but in a way nonetheless.

“th-that’s alright,” he smiled softly as he took both bags from you and began taking them inside of the cabin to the room he knew to be yours.

“dad,” you smiled as you wrapped your arms around him, him returning the favor. “i’ve missed you,” you hummed against his shoulder.

“me too, sweetie. i’m glad your back,” he pulled back, grasping your shoulders firmly. “how long are you staying this time?”

“1 1/2 months,” you smiled. “that’s why there’s so much stuff,” you huffed out a laugh as you motioned to the rest of the taxi, grabbing the remaining two bags only for him to grab them from your hands. “i can carry my own things, y’know.”

“and i want to do something sweet for my daughter. let me live, why don’t ya?” he teased as you both went into your room, spencer following behind after you made it past the living room.

it was similar to how you left it before college. there were pictures of your high school friends you weren’t in touch with anymore, some of you in the marching band and others of you at the lake with a group of people. there were banners of the college you had once wanted to go, now overshadowed by your dreams coming true. your old paintings were displayed on the wall along with some family photos you had taken with stephen. there was your guitar in the corner, along with a keyboard and ukulele you had learned to play when you were little.

“i’m so sorry i’ve deprived you of being sweet to your daughter,” you raised your hands in feigned defeat. “how’ve you been?” you asked, plopping down on the familiar bed.

“i’ve been good. spencer being around has been helping with you not being here,” he replied as he took the seat beside you.

“wow, already replacing me, huh?” you chuckled as you nudged jason with your shoulder gently.

“i’ll let you two get acquainted,” he pat your leg gently before he stood up and left you and spencer in your childhood room.

“i-i would never want to do that. if i’m overstepping i can tota-” spencer got cut off.

“don’t worry, spencer. i was just... playing around, y’know?” you smiled. “i’m glad you’re here to help out with this old man,” you laughed. “i’ve heard a lot about you. you’re pretty impressive, i hope you know that.”

“oh uhm, th-thank you. i think?” he smiled again, taking a seat in the chair at your vanity after turning it towards you.

“you’re welcome, it’s not everyday i meet a doctor that’s under 20,” you chuckled once again. “sorry, i make terrible jokes when i’m nervous,” you looked back down at your hands.

“i think i’ve caught on to that, yes,” he agreed. “why, if i may ask, are you nervous?”

“um, i guess because i’m intimidated by you?” you phrased as a question.

“you’re intimidated by me? ho-wha-why would you be intimidated by me?” he questioned, leaning in closer to your bed in interest.

“well for one, three phds. two, eidetic memory. three, have you looked in the mirror?” you returned the questioning, leaning in to mirror his body language.

“what’s wrong? why would i need to look in the mirror?” he leaned back a bit, looking in the mirror at your vanity and furrowing his brows before you stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

“nothing wrong, spencer. you’re just... attractive, okay?” you chuckled as he settled into your touch. “oh shoot, i’m sorry,” you grimaced as you retracted your hand, surprised when he grasped it firmly.

there was a brief moment, one that made it seem as though maybe he had that same attraction to you. that brief moment held an impact on you. he wasn’t just looking at you. he was looking at you. it seemed like he was committing this moment to his everlasting eidetic memory.

and just like that, it was over. in the blink of an eye that moment was gone.

“s-sorry,” he let go of your hand quickly, you pulled it back to your side, not forgetting the touch of his soft hand, his fingers encasing around gently.

“don’t be, spencer,” you smiled before your dad came back into the room.

you had talked with him throughout the entire night, both your dad and spencer. there were times when you were almost positive he had felt that spark. you thought maybe even your dad noticed it, but nothing was said or done.

after your dad had gone to bed around 2:30 a.m., you had all decided it was too late for spencer to drive back to the academy. so, he would stay the night.

you had wanted to continue your discussion with him about popular study methods, being yet again entranced by his ramblings and the way his hands would motion about nearly anything he could. you were both on the couch, sharing a blanket as you began to doze off to the soothing sound of spencer’s voice.

“sorry, i should stop talking,” he chuckled, his hand moving to the back of his neck to rub it awkwardly before you grasped his hand with yours.

“no, no it’s not that. please, keep talking,” you smiled before releasing his hand. “your voice is really nice, is all,” you shrugged.

“re-really?” his voice raised three octaves.

“yea, really,” you chuckled. “can you just... keep talking?”

“uhm, y-yea. sure. i can do that,” he smiled as you curled in closer to him. your head rested on his chest as your hand wrapped around his side before your head shot up.

“i’m sorry, i-is this okay? you don’t even like shaking hands and here i am curling into you like i’m a koala. koala’s do that, right? yea sure they do that,” you rambled on.

“it’s alright. there’s more warmth, i think it’s nice,” he said as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling your body closer to his.

“alright, i just wanted to make sure,” you complied, your head resting fully on his chest with no reservations.

“so there were many studies done in the 80s about how writing things multiple times helps the brain with muscle...” spencer trailed on talking, noticing the way your breathing steadied out with the welcoming of sleep.

you didn’t feel the kiss he pressed to your hairline once he was sure you were asleep. you didn’t know that’s the best he’d slept in weeks. you would never know.

the week went on very similar. you would spend most of your time with your dad, and when able to spencer would tag along after he got out of the academy. you found yourself yearning for the times he would come over, and realized that he was the closest friend you’ve had since high school. and it only took two weeks.

two weeks for the bit of attraction to develop into a crush. two weeks for you to realize how sweet and caring and boyfriendy he would be if he was officially yours. but you couldn’t say anything about it yet.

unbeknownst to you, sometime before you had arrived your dad had told spencer about your driving issue, or more like the lack thereof.

“so...” he smiled mischievously. “i heard that you don’t know how to drive yet,” he revealed as you chuckled humorlessly.

“nope. not gonna happen, sir,” you laughed as you rose from the bed, placing your notebook away on your shelf.

“what? why not?!” he argued, remaining on the bed.

“because, spence,” you huffed, turning back around to face him, pressing your back against your shelf. “it’s just... it makes me really anxious.”

“you? scared of something?” he incredulously replied. “no way,” he chuckled.

“hahaha, very funny,” you mocked him as you threw yourself down on the bed beside him. “i’m scared of a lot of things, y’know. i just don’t let people know about it,” you shrugged as you began playing with your fingers.

“why not? it’s normal to be afraid of things,” he replied, laying all the way down beside you.

“really? what’re you scared of then, doctor?” you replied sassily.

“the dark,” he revealed quickly.

“the dark?” you turned your head to face him in confusion.

“mhmm, the dark,” he nodded as he looked down at you, staring into your eyes. “before you ask, it’s because of the inherent absence of light,” he smiled as you rolled your eyes. “but i still go into the dark all the time. metaphorically and physically.”

“it’s easier said than done,” you huffed out as you broke eye contact.

“i’ll be there to help you through it all, y/n,” he reached for your hand and held it in his own. “i promise.”

there’s that feeling again.

“fine!” you groaned. “you win.”

“as i always do,” he grinned smugly before you pressed your palm against his face, shoving it away with a chuckle from the both of you.

the next day, you were both in your dad’s car in the driveway. you were in the driver’s seat, spencer in the passenger side. you pressed on the brake as you switched gears to drive.

“alright, slowly ease off the brake gently,” he guided softly.

“the brakes are really sensitive on most cars, so you don’t need to be too aggressive with it.”

“slow down, jeez!”

“okay, that was a really good stop.”

“not so sharp-” you hit the curb. “...on the turns”

“okay, now pull in... just like that.”

“reverse, brake,”

“put it in park, perfect!”

“how’d i do, coach?” you smiled widely as you removed your hands from the wheel.

“not the worst, but you still need a lot of improvement,” he laughed.

“whatever you say,” you rolled your eyes as you removed the keys from the ignition.

the next few days, you had driven around 20 times. you made simple trips to the grocery store, around the block, and to get food. you and spencer now had a road trip playlist, courtesy of you.

you also had a song you wanted to show him, one that wasn’t out on the radio yet.

so the plan waited. and waited. and waited.

“why don’t you sing us something?” your dad suggested while playing poker yet again, spencer clearly winning so far.

“well that’s a bit random, dad,” you chuckled as you put down your card to fold.

“you should!” spencer agreed eagerly. “please?” he gave you puppy dog eyes.

“fine!” you sighed, getting up to grab your guitar from your room. “just, don’t laugh. it’s a piece i’ve been working on since i got here. i haven’t found the right lyrics yet so bare with me,” you chuckled before beginning to strum.

you didn’t bother playing the lyrics, you knew they would reveal way too much far too fast. for now, the melody would have to do.

“wow, that sounds pretty good, y/n,” your dad applauded along with spencer.

“thank you, thank you all,” you chuckled, taking a bow before returning your guitar to its respective place.

the next day you were driving, you decided to turn the radio on as a change of pace. you sighed as you rested your head on the back of the headrest, just listening to the music play until you heard a familiar sound.

your head shot up, you looked at spencer with wide eyes before turning the radio up just to be sure. sure enough, it was your voice coming from the car radio speakers. your mouth dropped in awe as you froze in your seat, looking at spencer in the eyes.

“wait, this sounds like...” it took him a minute to realize. “this is your voice?!” he asked, his head shooting up with a look similar to yours as you nodded your head eagerly.

he reached over the center console, wrapping his arms around you snugly. you embraced his arms, returning the favor gladly as you swayed to the song.

“that’s the first time i’ve heard it on the radio, spence,” you cheered into his shoulder.

“oh my god, that’s so amazing, y/n,” he pulled back. “i’m so proud of you.”

“thank you,” you smiled.

you were still wrapped in each other’s arms, neither of you wanting to let go of the other, just gazing into your eyes. suddenly, he was leaning in. his hand moved from behind your back to the side of your face, cupping it gently. you leaned in a bit in return.

suddenly, the door to your dad’s cabin shot open as he was shouting:

“you’re on the radio! you’re on the radio!”

you both shot back to your respective places, you gave spencer a small smile before getting out of the car to go celebrate with your dad.

“y/n, i’m so proud of you!” your dad wrapped you in his arms. “congratulations.”

“thank you,” you huffed into his shoulder, breathing in the calming scent of home.

you couldn’t help but wonder what might’ve happened if your dad hadn’t come outside. would he have actually kissed you? you would never know.

the week before you had to leave, you decided to finish writing the song. it wasn’t very hard, you’d written love songs before. but this one had actual meaning behind it. this one was for someone. it was for spencer.

a week before you had to leave your dad had gotten called out on a case, spencer had volunteered to keep you company for the next couple of days. spencer had called you ahead of time to tell you he was on his way.

when he arrived, he seemed a bit off. he wasn’t as... spencer as he normally was. his eyes didn’t light up, his smile was fake and only took up a small portion of his face.

“are you alright?” you asked, closing the door behind him as he entered the house.

“what? oh-yea, yea. i’m fine,” he pulled another fake smile.

“spencer, growing up with a father as a profile taught me a few things. what’s actually wrong?” you pressed as you sat down on the couch, spencer following suit.

“it’s really stupid,” he shrugged.

“i don’t think it’s that stupid if it’s upsetting you,” you replied, scooting closer to him on the couch.

“fine,” he took a deep breath. “so... i’m clearly not as fit or muscular as most of the people in the academy. and i know i’ll be exempt from most of those physical attributes on account of my mind. but-well,” he sighed once more. “the guys there are just so rude about it. th-they laugh at me when we do our workouts. they don’t ever let me finish a thought. they call me chicken legs. it’s just... i’m tired of it. i thought that once i left high school i wouldn’t have to deal with people like them but i’m starting to think there will always be someone with something backhanded or rude to say about me,” he finished.

you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, allowing him to rest his head in the crevice by your shoulder and neck. his arms flew around your waist as you began rubbing light circles on his upper back.

“you’re right,” you broke the silence, not letting him out of your grasp. “there will always be someone with something to say, whether it’s good or bad. but what matters is how you hold yourself after they say something. you could hide away, which may seem like a good idea at the time, or you could ignore them, which seems really hard to do. and it is. but it’s easier as you learn to accept things they say.”

“what does that mean?” he questioned.

“it means, as cliché as it sounds, embrace your differences. if a guy calls you chicken legs say ‘yea, i have chicken legs. but at least my brain isn’t the size of a chicken’s.’” you countered, feeling a laugh against your shoulder. “and you know how much i love it when you talk. your mind amazes me every time i see you, spence. so don’t, please don’t, let them ruin you. you are perfect, just how you are.”

“thank you, y/n,” he pulled back to look you in the eyes. “i-i really needed to hear that.”

“anytime, doctor,” you smiled. “want me to play with your hair?” he nodded enthusiastically, plopping his head down in your lap as you began twirling and twisting his strands in your fingers.

you had managed to finish the song two nights before you had to leave. your dad still hadn’t gotten back from the case, so spencer was still going to hang out with you alone that night. you were going to play it for him.

so when he got back from the academy, you grabbed his hands and led him into the living room.

“alright, i wrote this song, and i wanted to play it for you,” you smiled, playing with your fingers as you sat him down on the couch once more.

“a-alright...” he said with a smile, his brows furrowing in confusion.

“alright,” you ran to your bedroom to get your guitar, racing back to begin playing.

*i actually wrote this song so please be nice lol*

“i wasn’t looking for much

i just came back,

and then i felt your touch

and the way you smiled,

made me think that maybe

this would be worth my while.

because i’m driving off the deep end

swear to god this isn’t right

you should be mine,

i should be yours.

i heard your voice on that night,

the way that you held me tight

in your arms

and i never wanna leave

if it means i have to let you go

i don’t wanna let go.

the next day we were in the car

you made me feel safe inside

then i showed you my guitar

i let you inside my mind

but i’m scared you’ll be the one to say no

the one to go

because i’m driving off the deep end

swear to god this isn’t right

you should be mine,

i should be yours.

i heard your voice on that night,

the way that you held me tight

in your arms

and i never wanna leave

if it means i have to let you go

i don’t wanna let go.

i don’t wanna see you go

don’t wanna be the one

to tell you so

because i can’t take the stress

of whether or not you’ll say yes

because...

i’ve driven off the deep end

swear to god this isn’t right

you should be mine,

i should be yours.

i heard your voice on that night,

the way that you held me tight

in your arms

and i never wanna leave

if it means i have to let you go

i don’t wanna let go.”

you bit your lip as you set the guitar down, taking a seat beside him on the couch slowly.

“that sounded great, y/n! you said you just wrote this? it’s really good!” he replied, a bright smile on his face, clearly unaware of the gravity of the song.

he didn’t understand the song was for him. about him.

“spencer... do you not get it?” you asked, closing your eyes in fear.

“get what? the song was really good, what’s there to get?” he replied.

“it was... the song... nevermind,” you smiled, finally opening your eyes to face him “thank you.”

if he didn’t understand it, you could always tell him later, perhaps.

the last night of your visit, your dad had gotten back from the case and joined you and spencer for dinner.

“so, have you finished that song you were working on, y/n?” your dad asked curiously.

“uhm...” you trailed off, the subject still a bit rocky for you.

“she has! it’s really good, she played it for me the other night,” spencer divulged.

“oh. that’s nice. care to play it once more?” he requested.

“right,” you took a deep breath. “sure, of course i can.”

so, you played it once more. you stayed focused on your strum patterns and the notes as you played.

“wow that was really good! are you thinking of releasing it?” your dad asked.

“well i’d have to talk to my manager about it, but i might,” you shrugged as you took your seat back at the table.

“what’s it about, if you don’t mind me asking,” you dad asked once more. “or... who’s it about?”

“why does it have to be about someone? maybe it’s just abut a feeling,” you sassed.

“well normally you don’t tell a feeling you should be theirs’,” spencer added.

“yea, yea, yea,” you rolled your eyes.

that night, you and spencer fell asleep yet again watching another movie in your bedroom. part of you was surprised your dad allowed spencer and you to get this close... but maybe he knew that he didn’t feel the same for you and your dad knew.

the next morning you finished packing so you could leave. it was a bittersweet moment, truly. you wanted to stay with your dad and spencer but you also wanted to follow your dreams.

you had already bid your goodbyes to your dad before he had to go into work. packing up the last of your bags in your car, because now you felt comfortable driving, you closed the trunk once more.

“y/n?” spencer called you back inside the house.

“yea, spence?”

“i’m going to miss you,” he smiled fondly. “i uhm, i wrote you this letter. and i just... can you read it once you’re on the plane?” he asked as he hadned you the letter, tears filling his eyes at the thought of you leaving.

“of course i can,” you smiled back. “don’t cry, doc. then i’ll cry,” you huffed out a laugh.

“i just, i don’t want you to go,” he replied, not realizing the irony of him saying that.

“i don’t want to go, but i need to do this,” you bit your lip. “i need to follow my dreams. but... i did say goodbye. that song? it was about you, spencer,” you felt the tear leave your eye, drip down your cheek. “i like you a lot, and i just didn’t really know how else to tell you other than writing a song.”

“y/n, i... the song... you want to be with me?” he asked in confusion.

“yea, i do. i really do,” you nodded sorrowfully. “but now i’m leaving and-”

his lips were on yours in an instant. his hands cradled your face like they once were as you sat in the car with him. you hesitated for a second before your arms flew around his neck, welcoming his lips once more. your tongue traced his bottom lip, seeking entrance which he eagerly allowed. it was harmonious, much like the song that brought you two to this moment.

until it was over. you pulled back slowly.

“wow,” you swallowed.

“yea... wow,” he replied not moving his eyes off of yours. “i just... i couldn’t let you leave without doing that at least once.”

“i’m glad you didn’t wait,” you smiled before removing your arms.

“but you’re still leaving...” he remembered, quietly announcing it as though you had forgotten.

“mmhmm,” you nodded your head. “i am...”

“and we can’t be together. because i’m about to graduate from the academy. and be a member of the bau. and i won’t have time for...” he realized with a look of sadness.

“you’re right. i’ll be touring and i barely have time for my dad,” you shrugged.

“so we agree?” spencer added. “this would never work?”

“we agree,” you turned around and started walking towards your car. “this would never work.”

you boarded the plane, fresh tears piercing your eyes as you sat in your seat.

he didn’t want you. he didn’t think you were worth fighting for. he didn’t think you were enough for him. he would rather face death than be with you, want you. he kissed you only to want to leave.

you felt terrible about yourself. part of you hated him. but every part of you couldn’t help but... love him.

but now it’s too late.

taglist:

@greenprisca

#spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid imagine #angst #song writer

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jerkbitchidjitassbutt · 4 years ago

Text

It Was You (Part One)

A/N: Jensen and Y/n are childhood best friends. When his agent informs him that his image could use some improvement for a role, will she help him? Or will her feelings get in the way?

A holiday (Christmas centric) Jensen x Female!Reader Best Friends to Lovers series for @spnchristmasbingo. Un-beta’d, so all mistakes are mine. Header created by me with images from Google. Chapter word count: 3371

Series Warnings: break up; angst-ish at times (if you squint), but mostly all the fluff.

I consider this an AU, as Jensen is single in this fic. This is completely a work of fiction, and I wouldn’t want his reality to be any different, this is purely for entertainment.

The slight chill of a Vancouver December morning roused you from a peaceful sleep, making you snuggle further into the down blanket and comfort of your plush bedding. It was two weeks until Christmas and the weather was supposed to be a balmy high of 32 degrees today, so you had planned to stay in, do some shopping online, and stay by your cozy fireplace with every holiday movie you could find. Willing yourself to get five more minutes of shut eye seemed like a helpless feat as the wintry cold seeped into your apartment. You opened your eyes to the gentle prisms of light floating in through the adjacent window, the sunrise indicating it was time to get up for the day.

Sitting up to perch on the side of your bed and grabbing your wide-rimmed glasses from the nightstand, you slid your chilled toes into the warm slippers waiting and shrugged on your fuzziest sweater. It may be time for that fire sooner than you thought.

Padding into your kitchen to get a much-needed caffeine fix after last night’s dinner and drinks with the rest of the cast and crew, you took your favorite mug from the cabinet and loaded the coffee maker, making an extra cup or two for you and any visitors you might have a bit later.

Jensen’s apartment was down the hall, and if you knew him, he’d still be sleeping, but he’d probably wander over at some point this morning. Cradling the mug in your hands warmed them slightly and sent a shiver down your spine. Even your warmest pajamas and the heat from the thermostat did little against the Canadian winds. Laughing slightly to yourself, you’d thought you’d be used to it after six years of winters here.

You wandered towards the windows of your living room to pull back the long curtains. It was a favorite spot to have your coffee and gaze at the sights of Vancouver. Settling on the window seat, you felt a warmth spread through you as you noticed it had snowed in the night, and from the looks of it, it was a depth of fresh, soft powder – a type that you rarely saw growing up in Texas. People were bundled up tightly as they walked the streets, but a few people, adults and kids alike, were already out playing in the thick blanket of snow.

As your coffee began to warm you through, you couldn’t help the giddy feeling of joy that rose at the sight – it made the holiday season and the spirit of it even more intense than just viewing the lights of downtown and the large decorations everywhere. For some reason, snow just sealed it all up in a nice little bow.

Sure enough, about halfway into your second cup of coffee, you heard a key in your door and Jensen shuffled in, still wearing his pj’s with tousled hair, but he had thrown on a thick sweater too.

“Good morning.” You called, still seated at the large window.

“Mornin’ sweetheart.” He replied with a quick wave as he tossed his keys on the counter and waltzed into your kitchen in search of his mug, his voice still thick and gruff with sleep.

He mixed his cream and sugar and took a long sip, letting out a contented sigh after the steaming liquid entered his body. He was notoriously grumpy without his coffee, but he always met you with a sweet greeting when he came over. Walking around your kitchen island and into your open living room, he slumped into the recliner across from you and pulled the leaver to release the footing, allowing him to lean back with his feet up. He adjusted himself to get comfortable, careful to not spill the mug in his hand.

“What time did you get in last night?” you asked, taking another sip from your own cup.

He covered his eyes with his free hand, still obviously tired. “About 2:30. You know how Jared gets when we break for hiatus, he never wants the party to end. He was still talking to me as I was shutting my door.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Jared was the most social person you’d ever met and knowing that he wouldn’t be back to Canada and on set for a month, he would always soak up every little bit of time he had with the cast and crew. Even though Jensen was griping about it now, you knew he also didn’t mind. He’d probably be missing everyone, especially Jared, about four days into the break. You didn’t get home until about 1 a.m., and that was only because you were beginning to doze off in your cocktail.

“Tell Cliff thanks again for driving me home last night. I just couldn’t cut it.”

“Yeah, I know… Lightweight.” Jensen teased.

“Hey, you didn’t have a 5 a.m. set call yesterday like some of us.”

Jensen huffed a small laugh from his seat, still resting his hand across his closed eyes. His sweatpants hung low on his hips and his green Henley stretched across his biceps as he rested his coffee on his thigh. A slight 5 o’clock shadow and the bedhead he was sporting all combined into a handsome image. He may be your best friend, but you could still appreciate the looks the man was blessed with.

Seemingly close to falling back asleep, you called to him in a hushed voice, “Jay. If you want to go back to sleep just put your coffee mug on the table, okay?”

“Hmmmph. No, I’m up.” He fibbed, as evident from the way he blinked widely once he opened his eyes again. Forcing himself to stand, otherwise he would really fall back asleep instead of just resting his eyes, he walked towards you with his cup, dragging his feet slightly as his legs sluggishly pulled him across the room. His head was down and his shoulders were wilted, but he was trying to get his body moving.

When he reached you, you felt his chest bump your shoulder before he rested his cheek on the crown of your head, his arm dangling by his side as he slumped. He took a deep breath before rubbing his hand across your back and standing, smiling as you peered up at him with a grin.

Licking his lips, he finally peered out to the streets below and his eyes went wide, “Y/n!” he practically shouted.

You flinched, “What? What’d I do?”

“You didn’t tell me it snowed!”

Giving a huff and a giggle, you couldn’t help but be sarcastic, “I’m sorry, was I supposed to while you were falling asleep in my chair?! Besides… it’s Canada. It’s not like snow is very rare here.”

“Y/n! That’s, like, snow! The kind we used to wish for when we were kids!”

“I know, I thought that too.”

“Well, c’mon!” he said, setting his cup down on the ledge. “We gotta go!”

“What? Go where?”

Jensen was already halfway through your living room and heading for the front door but paused to turn and point a finger in your direction, “You, me, snowman. Now.”

“Jay,” You whined. “It’s cold and its early. You sure you don’t want to just watch Netflix?”

“Y/n!” he said once again, looking as excited as a 12-year-old on a snow day from school. “Snowman! Please?” he begged, waving his arms frantically as he gestured outside.

“Okay, okay. Fine. No need to use your puppy eyes on me. I’ll meet you outside in 15 minutes.”

With that, a huge grin broke out on his face and he took off down the hall, leaving you to go in search of your heaviest ski jacket.

Jensen knocked on your door soon after you shrugged into the puffy coat, dressed in thick snow pants, his own jacket, and a black beanie and gloves with a small bag in his hand. Straitening your scarf before locking your door, he barely gave you a moment to put on your knitted pom beanie before he was pulling you by your hand towards the elevator of your building and pushing you out of the revolving doors into the frigid air. Heading to the side where a large park sat adjacent to your complex, he looked around before tugging you along to a spot with a large open space. He nodded to himself, as if to say he’d found the perfect place for his snowman-building escapade. As your boots crunched beneath you, you each began gathering handfuls of snow to make a large base, then packed and sculpted two more spheres. Though you initially protested, you had to admit that it was fun, and the coldness against your cheeks wasn’t bad after a bit, particularly after seeing how happy Jensen was when his finished product towered over yours. He’d managed to gather the majority of the snow within about a six-foot radius of where his snowman stood before piling it high.

“Hey, hey… look at that. An accurate height difference!” He touted, teasing you.

“Oh, hush you. It’s not my fault that you were given the extended version of the human body.” You glared at him playfully.

He laughed as he bent to rummage in the bag he’d brought, producing two carrots. He wiggled them in his hands before handing one to you. He was just about to place it in a very telling place when you grabbed a handful of snow and threw it in his direction.

“Jensen!” You berated. “That’s not where the carrot goes! There’s kids out here!”

He stood up slowly, turning to you with a serious smirk, “Did you seriously just throw a snowball at me?”

Wiping your hand on your pantleg quickly, you gave him a mischievous grin, “Who, me? I’d never.”

“Oh, its on!” he declared as he bent to scoop up the little bit of remaining snow in his reach, that which he hadn’t used for his snowman.

Ducking behind your own, he threw and missed, sending the snow flying passed you. A quick grab from around you produced another snowball that you chucked from behind your shield, hitting him square in the chest. The fight lasted for a good while, the two of you trying your hardest to target the other as many times as possible and receiving some laughs and glances from passersby as they walked along the sidewalk. Finally, Jensen gave up and took off towards you, chasing you in circles before he tackled you into the plush ice, pinning you beneath him as he tried to bury you both.

“Jay! Oh my God, stop! Its freezing!” you yelled through your laughter.

“Truce?” he asked, his eyebrows raised in a challenge.

He was still on top of you, his nose and cheeks a bit flushed from the wintry air. He still had that devilish smirk on his face, but his green eyes were soft and something beneath them made your heart flutter slightly in your chest. He scanned your face quickly before glancing towards your lips, but you were quick to snatch another fistful of snow to smash onto his head. Scrambling out from underneath him, you ran as he said something about you being a cheater before he jumped to his feet.

After the war ended and a truce was finally declared, you both put the finishing touches on your snowmen after you found sticks for the arms and coerced Jensen to put the carrot in the right spot. He stood back proudly, admiring your handiwork.

“Hey.” He gestured to you, “C’mere.”

A bit warry that he was going to tackle you again, you came to his side as he pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and turned on the camera. Pulling you into him, he said, “Gotta have evidence of our masterpieces.” He reached around your waist and tugged you in close, framing both of you and your snowmen in the background. The cold air made the tip of your nose and the apples of your cheeks change in color, and there was still some snow in your hair from when Jensen wrestled you, but both of you smiled widely. Feeling the scruff of his short beard against your temple and his arms wrapped around you made you think about the way his eyes danced across your face moments ago, but the thought was quickly dismissed as he stepped away from you slightly after he made sure the picture wasn’t too blurry.

“Oh, crap. Is that what time it is?” he said, alarmed, looking at his phone screen. “I have to meet Stacy in an hour.”

Stacy was his publicist and agent, but he usually didn’t meet with her during the hiatus. “You’re meeting Stacy today? What’s up?” you asked, a bit confused.

“She wants to talk to me about this movie. Some sort of romantic drama she thought I may be good for.”

“Oh,” you replied, “that’s great! You didn’t tell me! Would you have to cut back filming the show?” While you were a bit surprised, you were genuinely happy for him.

“Stacy knows Supernatural comes first, so I hope not.”

“Well, let’s get inside so you can warm up and change. I was going to make my mom’s chili and cornbread for dinner tonight, if you want to join me after your meeting.”

The excitement on his face was palpable as his eyes lit up the moment you said it, “You know how much I love your mom’s chili. We’re just meeting for coffee near her office, so I’ll bring the beer.”

As you were walking back into the building, your phone rang. It was Stephen, your boyfriend of three months.

“Stephen, hey.” You said as you entered the elevator, not missing the slight eyeroll that Jensen gave.

“Hey, honey. How are you? I didn’t want to call too early, just in case you were still sleeping after last night.”

“I’m good, thanks. Actually, just got done building a snowman with Jensen.”

A short silence followed, until Stephen spoke up again. “Oh, that’s nice.” He said, his voice noticeably clipped. “Well, I’m going to take my lunch break soon. Would you like to meet up? I can come to your side of town.”

“Uh, sure. I’ll meet you at that café on 3rd in about a half an hour?”

“Sounds great. See you there.”

Shoving your phone back in your pocket, you ignore Jensen’s stare as the elevator climbed to your floor.

“So…” he pressed. “Stephen?”

“Yeah, Stephen. We’re going to meet up for lunch while you have your meeting.”

“Hmph.” He huffed.

“Jay, we’ve known each other our whole lives and to this day you’ve never liked a single guy I’ve ever dated. What’s wrong with Stephen?”

“I don’t know. He’s just kind of… meh.”

He wasn’t lying, if you were being truthful. Stephen was meh. He was cute and had nice eyes and dimples, but he didn’t make you laugh. He was a bit dull and your sense of humor didn’t mesh with his well. Still, you thought that it might get a bit better once you got to know each other and began to understand one another more. Your relationship was still very casual, but maybe it could go further? You weren’t really sure, honestly.

“What about you and Laura?” you asked, quickly changing the subject.

“I told you… that was nothing.” He quipped as you reached your door. “We went on like three dates.”

“Yeah, the last one being just this past week.”

“Yeah, and it just didn’t go well.”

You let out a small sigh. Discussing your dating lives wasn’t really something the two of you loved to do with each other. Maybe when you were teenagers, yeah. You’d asked each other for advice and gossiped a bit about the people in your high school, but as you grew into adults it just became a subject you both steered away from besides the occasional, hey I’ve got a date conversation. Neither of you had ever really found a person that the other approved of, each finding a reason to be picky every time.

“I’m sorry, Jay. I’m just deflecting.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I was pushing.” He said sincerely with a small smile. “Well, you enjoy lunch. My meeting’s at 1:30 across town, so I should be back by 4 at the latest. Pick out a movie for us, okay?”

“Sounds great. I will.” With that, he kissed you quickly on the side of your head and went into his apartment as you ducked into yours. You freshened up quickly and changed, grabbing a different peacoat, hat, and scarf as your others were still wet.

It was a short walk to the café, and they had good sandwiches. You were surprisingly hungry, so you were glad to see Stephen waiting outside for you. He gripped your hand tightly and gave you a quick kiss in greeting before leading you into the restaurant. You were seated and ordered quickly, knowing that he would have to return to work soon.

“So, how has your day been?” You asked as you shrugged off your coat, hanging it on the chair behind you.

“It’s been… good.” He muttered.

“Uh oh,” You said, getting his attention as he looked away from you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, really. I was just surprised to hear that you were with Jensen today. You had mentioned you were going to stay home.”

Stephen smiled, almost in an attempt to let you know that he was trying to be lighthearted about it, but you could tell it bothered him.

“Yeah, when he saw it snowed last night, he just really wanted to make a snowman.” You laughed, trying to steer away from the subject. Stephan wasn’t overstepping, but he also wasn’t going to prevent you from spending time with Jensen. The two of you had been inseparable since, well, practically since birth. Your parents had been the best of friends, so you were pretty much raised together.

“Have you, um…” Stephen began, hesitantly. “I know you’ve been friends forever, but have you ever had feelings for him?”

His blue eyes shown with a slight jealousy as you felt a slight pang to your heart.

“No, of course not.” You managed to say with a steady voice and a smile as you picked up your napkin to place in your lap.

It was a lie, one that you’d been telling for years. At one point in your life, you were in love with Jensen. But, the past was in the past. If Jensen didn’t even know, why should Stephen?

Stephen seemed satisfied with your response for the most part, and the two of you had a pleasant lunch. When you stepped away to use the restroom, your phone chimed. Stephen tried not to even look towards your side of the table where your phone sat, but when he saw Jensen’s name, he read the text quickly before the screen dimmed.

Hey, sweetheart. Finishing up here soon and then I’ll be heading home. Do you need me to grab anything from the store?

Stephen knew the two of you were a package deal, and thought he could honestly be alright with it, but between working together and spending practically all of your time together, he was starting to wonder where he fit in in your life. He busied himself by checking his Instagram as he thought about what he should do and found that Jensen had tagged you in a photo from this morning. The caption was simple, just a few words about the filming hiatus and the first snow of the season, but the two of you were so close. Stephen found himself wishing that you could reserve a smile like that for him, but he had yet to see it.

It hurt, but he knew he couldn’t play second fiddle to Jensen. He cared about you, but perhaps it was better to bow out now.

“Hey, sorry about that.” You said brightly as you got back to the table, smiling. It still didn’t reach your eyes, though.

Stephen leaned forward on his elbows with a sigh, “Y/n, I think we should talk.”

To be continued...

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Jensen Only

@mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk

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reidecorating · 4 years ago

Text

Like Ivy

Request: “Being able to see you smile, being in your vicinity, just that is enough for me.” and “Uh, here, this is for, uh, you.” I’m thinking something Christmas-y with Reid - Anon

A/N: I do apologise for procrastinating on getting this out, but I wanted to make sure it wasn’t terrible. Merry Christmas to all of you who celebrate it, my present to you is the longest fic I have ever written. I had so much fun writing it so I hope you guys enjoy reading it! Happy holidays <3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAUFem!Reader

Word Count: 7.7k

Summary: Best friends yearning & best friends pining - but make it festive. Entails Secret Santa, the classic penny behind the ear and waltzing.

Warnings: Fluff, proceed with caution :)

The Cathedral of Santa Maria. Spencer had finally put his finger on it. The small glass dome encasing a building, with doors small enough to allow entrance to ladybugs who may practice religion, adorned unmistakable timely Italian architecture and ornamented pine trees, all dusted with flitters of snow. For the past week, Spencer had caught sight of the trinket each time he wandered past where it sat, as one of the few other decorations surrounding the name plate displaying in gold Times New Roman ‘DAVID ROSSI’, on the often unoccupied desk. So, he gathered that it must be important. Filing away his final stack of paperwork for the night, a silver paperclip glistening in the artificial light, Spencer made a mental note to ask the man about it the next morning. Standing from his usual office chair slouch, he stretched his limbs, feeling a series of clicks in his back as he regained his posture, only to bend back down in reach of his satchel. He made his way home giving tight lipped smiles of encouragement to the few agents sprinkled about the room, working over time. Haphazardly, he pushed the arrow pointing downwards with a cardigan clad elbow. As if on queue, his phone buzzed to the simultaneous ‘ding’ of the lift.

I understand you’re nocturnal, but I hope you’ve gotten home by now! If not, text me when you do so, safely :)

He didn’t realise he was grinning from ear to ear until an aggravated looking bureau member from a floor above, evidently itching to get home, cleared his throat to gain Spencer’s attention. “Sorry,” he grimaced. Noticing the button for the ground floor having already been lit up, Spencer stepped inside and stood as far away, as was possible in the small space, from the rankled looking man and his briefcase. A dimple appeared on his cheek as he remembered you, two years, three months and seventeen days ago - not that he was counting - offering him cherry scented hand sanitiser from a small bottle, and, only after he’d nodded, gently grasping the tips of his fingers to steady his shaking hand as you poured the gelid liquid into his palm. The act was so pure he chose against telling you that while alcohol based hand sanitisers reduce the number of microbes on hands in some situations, they don’t eliminate all types of germs - making soap and water the most effective way to go. Since then, you occupied his thoughts in the same way ivy grew along bricks of long forgotten towers. In abundance, in the most beautiful way. He turned his attention back to the tiny mobile he was holding.

On my way right now. I have a date with microwaved leftovers at midnight, can’t miss it. Will do.

The next time his phone buzzed was when he’d dozed off on the way home, using the concave pane of a metro window as a shoulder to lean against. He waited until his feet landed on the uneven pavement of his stop to open it.

Tomorrow you have a date with a properly cooked meal, at mine. What is it that Hotch always says? That’s an order, not a request.

Spencer’s heartbeat quickened as he read what you had written, his brain immediately carrying variables in an effort to slow it down by convincing himself that friends make each other feel this way. However, when he counted the rose flush on his cheeks and nose whenever you were around, the looks you shared which said more than words ever could and the way you held each other nearer than the distance between the sky and the ocean where they met at the horizon after close calls and mentally grappling cases, it didn’t quite equate to being just friends. Dwindling leaves clinging to their branches shuddered as scissors of winter wind pruned the trees scattered about. Spencer’s pale hands slid into his coat pockets, hiding from frostbite. On the short walk to his apartment, he admired the twinkling lights on either side of the streets, feeling as if he were a plane which had just landed upon a runway in the night. Candy canes, reindeer and eccentric portrayals of Santa Claus glowed amongst bushes and on porches, making Spencer wish you were there to see them too. It wasn’t rare he found himself wanting to share everything he did with you. Pretty things made him think of you. Eventually reaching the familiar building, tiredly, he followed wreaths and holly all the way to his undecorated apartment door.

You? Cooking? I’ll bring a fire extinguisher. Home safe. Goodnight, sleep well.

He kept his promise, despite seeing the time was nearing to one in the morning and being doubtful you were still awake.

Hilarious :/ and I will, knowing you’re alive. Goodnight Spencer :)

Spencer coveted for nights when he could tell you goodnight from right beside you, perhaps with his hand draped around your waist while yours tugged at his hair. He wanted to fall asleep to the scent of your skin and whatever soap you’d picked up from the store that week, not the quiet hum of his vintage fan. His microwave beeped, acting as an alarm to return down to earth from the clouds, presenting him with far less than gourmet potatoes. Realising he would take your burnt cooking over this any day, he settled for a sandwich.

∗∗∗

“Did you know that snowglobes were invented in France. They were first introduced as ‘water globes’ at the Paris Expedition Fair in 1889, and, to no surprise, the first snow globe actually contained a tiny scaled Eiffel Tower covered in snow,” Spencer lectured, almost putting the two agents who had struggled enough to get out of bed, back to sleep. The days were slow. Annual leave for a majority of the bureau was looming nearer and files kept them busy as the jet gathered dust. “Glad to hear the French contributed something, other than their opprobrium of a language, to this world,” Emily complained, from her desk. “Well, baguettes… Croissants, parachutes… Aspirin-“ Spencer was halted by the unimpressed look on Rossi’s face, as he hovered on the edge of Spencer’s table, a bushy eyebrow raised in vexation. “What’s with all this talk of snowglobes, kid?” The older man squinted at Spencer, craning his neck towards this, the way he did to suspects behind the glass of an interrogation room. “Since you brought it up,” he smiled smugly, swivelling in his chair from one side to another. “What’s the story behind the Santa Maria sitting on your desk?”

“Yeah, the eighties have come and gone, Rossi, isn’t it a bit late for repentance?” Emily let out a sly smile, walking over to also lean against Spencer’s desk with a steaming mug in hand. “It was a gift from my grandmother, handmade, I take it out every Christmas to help get in the festive mood,” Rossi explained. “Also, that was very funny Emily but now… I can’t help but recall what Garcia told me about the time you got a little tipsy and licked peanut butter off J-”

“No one told me it was National Congregate Around Spencer Reid’s Desk Day today.” The three agents turned their heads in unison to find who the voice belonged to, Spencer’s breath hitching at the sight of you. You stood before them, an upturned magician’s hat in hand, semi-curious as to what the ending of Rossi’s sentence would have been if it weren’t for you interrupting. “Y/N!” Emily waved, flashing a smile. “You’ve taken an interest in magic and didn’t even think to tell me,” Spencer feigned a hurt look. “Spencer, I knew magic wasn’t for me after I did the card trick you taught me, wrong . Six times,”

“It was seven. Plus, the student is never as good as the teacher,” he suppressed a smile. “Or maybe the teacher just isn’t good,” you raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s a little hostile, someone didn’t get enough sleep last night,” Spencer defended himself, putting his hands in the air. His eyes held a glimmer of mischief as if to say ‘we know something that you don’t’ when they met yours. Emily’s jaw dropped. “That… Didn’t sound suggestive at all,” Rossi pursed his lips in concern, looking back and forth between the pair of furiously blushing agents. “Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t,” you winked at Rossi. Basking in the radiance of your laughter washing over him like the sun, Spencer chuckled along. “Anyway, what’s with the hat?” Emily questioned. “This,” you shook it by its brim, “contains the remaining names for this year’s Secret Santa, courtesy of Miss Penelope Garcia. I was just ordered to present it to you all. She calls it being her ‘little elf’ - I call it unpaid manual labour - but pick a name, any name,” you encouraged. You watched as Spencer’s tongue comically poked out as he eagerly concentrated on picking a name, elbow bent at a worrying angle. “I just want to say that every time I get a gift that isn’t alcohol, I’m slightly disappointed,” Emily turned to you as it was her turn to fish for a piece of paper. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you grinned at her. You watched Rossi’s expression as his eyes skimmed the name in his hands. “Oh, and Rossi, yes, there’s a budget,” you called over your shoulder, causing them to laugh as you gave them a wave. Slinking away from the comity of the bullpen, back to Mrs Claus’ lair, you retrieved the only remaining name. You paused in the hallway to double check if you’d read the glittery scrawl correctly. Spencer Reid. It was just your luck. You were prepared to engage in hand to hand combat with Garcia, seeing her office looming ahead. “Penelope. I hate you. I love you,” you kissed her cheek, placing the top hat on her curls, “but I hate you.” She recognised the tone, beaming at the implications. “Thank me later, beautiful!” She called after you as you rushed away to get started on completing the mountains of reports you had been avoiding thus far.

The day had come to a close, a headache making a home for itself in your head. Scanning the, now, mostly empty room, you caught sight of the back of Spencer’s uncombed head. Double checking that not enough people were around to be reprimanded by HR for misconduct, you inconspicuously made your way over to him snaking your arms around his neck and burrowing your nose in its crook. “Hi,” he chuckled, amused at the sudden affection, his unoccupied hand immediately reaching to grasp one of your wrists. Spencer had followed your strict, but coffee induced, orders earlier that morning telling him not to distract you unless, one, he was dying, or two, something was on fire, because you were determined to finish the numerous write-ups you had left until today. “Hi,” you mumbled into him. “Ready to go home?” You asked sweetly, arms still slung around him, pulling your face away to get a glimpse of his soft features. Your heart stopped for a little while, at the beauty of him. He was breathtaking. You refrained from tracing the small bump of his nose with your own, and settled for admiring the five o’clock shadow presaging a hidden jaw. The part of Spencer that craved domesticity was enchanted by your simple question, the word home resounding in his head, acting as an old film reel for projections of images of the two of you together; leaving work together, going home together. Little did he know that, as if through an unnoticed telepathy, just a few inches away, the same images occupied your own head. Coming home to an empty apartment had become tedious. You allowed yourself to give into your daydreams of returning home to Spencer - with Spencer. Spencer, with his warm eyes and words that drip like syrup from his tongue. You wanted nothing more than to revel in him filling your senses once the cologne from the day had been washed away, and hear him harp on about the history of mattresses, attempting to retain questions to ask him later in your memory bank, as you capitulate to sleep. “As a matter of fact, I finished most of what I had to do last night so I am ready to go… home,” he tested out the word, to which you had assigned a brand new connotation, feeling a flutter in his chest. You quickly rescinded your arms as you peripherally detected a flock of agents returning from what you assumed was an afternoon break. Spencer suddenly missed your body on his. Having already packed your things, feeling accomplished noticing that the pile of folders on your desk had shrunk significantly, you packed Spencer’s things to save him time, aimlessly throwing the strap of his satchel over his head for him once he had ungracefully shoved his arms into a blazer. “Hang on,” you gently pulled at his shoulders to meet your height, carefully fixing his tag and creased collar. The blush on his face, at the feel of your cold fingers brushing the nape of his neck, said everything he didn’t - save a meek, “Thank you.” You smiled at him in return. “Wait,” his eyes widened, “I need this,” he mumbled, reaching into the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a large black bag, decorated in gold intricacies. He didn’t explain it, but you knew that if Spencer had something to say, he would come out and say it, just all in good time. “Now are you ready?” You eyed the thing curiously, and glanced back at him. “Let’s go,” he motioned his arms in front of him, with a small nod, letting you lead the way.

Afternoon rays of sun fought their way through clouds, battling with the winter air to warm the people mingling outside as you made your way towards the crowded station. “Penny for your thoughts?” You asked, intuitively slipping an arm through his when the sun began to disappear altogether. Your cheeks grew warm as you realised your compromising position, feeling your heart rate return to its usual pace once he relaxed into your touch. “Hm?” He turned to look at you, letting his river coloured eyes unabashedly scan your face. “You look like your mind is far away,”

“What’s on my mind is definitely not very far away,” he said, quietly. That glimmer had returned. You noticed that the crease between his brows had disappeared, indicative that whatever thoughts were rattling through his brain, were good ones. You hummed a smile, content with his contentedness. “So… Hand it over,” he extended a palm a second later. “Hand what over?” You asked, genuinely confused. “A penny,” he said as if it was obvious. You blinked up at him, unfazed by the joke, as he bit his lip provokingly. All of a sudden he stopped walking, eyes still on you. “Just… Hold on a moment,” he whispered, squinting at you as he reached a hand towards your cheek. You remained still, thinking that Spencer had finally lost his mind. “Here it is!” He exclaimed, breaking out into a smile as he retrieved a one cent coin from behind your ear. “What!? You’re kidding! That was brilliant,” you beamed at him, eyes wide in bewilderment. “For a second there I thought you had gone crazy,” you teased. “Magic does that to people,” he nodded, satisfied with how impressed you seemed. “Ah, but alas, you gave me a very ambiguous answer, so I,” you snatched the penny from his fingers, “am entitled to a refund.” Spencer shook his head with a soft smile. “You might need to use that for the bus if we miss the next train,” he informed, hurriedly examining the watch on his upturned wrist.

No trains were missed, that day, the two of you arriving at your door in time for the six o’clock news. “Here, let me take your coat,” you offered, putting it on the small rack beside the door, placing yours adjacent to it. Spencer relished in the warmth of the place, setting his things down. “So, I’m thinking we get a proper meal in us, and then you can help me decorate this dreary place,” you instructed. He wanted to let you know that anywhere you are is far from being dreary, but something told him that was far too sappy, so he settled for a simple, “Sounds good.” He took in the familiar apartment, its walls embellished in old paintings snagged from secondhand stores and books scattered about on almost every horizontal surface, in a certain disorderliness that said, yes it’s messy, but everything has its place. “Also, I hope you know that you’re only leaving in the morning so make yourself at home.” It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for the two of you; you falling asleep at his apartment out of feebleness, him at yours, and more often than not, it involved discarded games of Scrabble as the two of you settled for debating the rules instead of actually playing. Lately, he’d been craving it more and more - and so had you. Spencer would never say no to that offer, but he was taken aback. “But I didn’t pack- I don’t have-“

“Eidetic memory is slipping I see,” you giggled at his flustered state. “I told you, I kept finding toothbrushes, sweaters and socks here every time you left, so I made a drawer full of your things, since you practically live here anyway,”

“An entire drawer? I didn’t think I was missing a whole lot,” he responded, nose tinted red. “I have to water my plants quickly, before I put dinner on, but feel free to shower,” you said, still laughing quietly. “Let me help cook, first. You need someone to disassemble the smoke alarm,” he raised an eyebrow at you. One ‘KISS THE COOK’ apron and half an hour of seasoning a chicken, spilling sweet potatoes and bumping elbows later, the two of you stood back from the counter, you boasting to Spencer about how nothing had turned to ashes, and him pointing out that the oven hadn’t been turned on yet. Soon after, you put the oven on high, humming an indistinguishable carol over the shower that could be heard running from the next room. A warm, tingling feeling overcame you.

By the time you had showered, Spencer stood serving - a well timed and flawlessly cooked - chicken, wearing mitts matching the baggy flannel pyjamas keeping him warm on top of the open oven. “Smells good,” you complimented, slightly startling Spencer. He stood at the small wooden dining table, mouth agape at the sight of you. He was sure his heart was a puddle. “I like your sweater,” he praised. You glanced down slightly confused, shortly realising that your sweater, with its much too floppy sleeves, reaching a little way above your knees, was actually his. “Oh, I’ll wash it and give it back to you at some point,” you said shyly. “I was wondering where it went, but don’t worry about it, the colour looks nicer on you than it does on me,”

“Nonsense, you know that’s not true.” Soon enough, you found yourselves digging in - not before you expressed your gratitude towards food that wasn’t charred for the first time in months. You sat across from each other, your reindeer sock clad feet occasionally tapping his beneath the table. Spencer’s heart was full, marvelling at you from where he sat, wishing this could be something he could experience forever, much preferring it over a stale sandwich. You watched him intently through your eyelashes, chin resting on your interlaced hands while he taught you about how the thalidomide scandal emerging from Germany led to safer drugs in the pharmaceutical industry, the lecture prompted by an article he’d read recently. It continued into getting the dishes cleaned up, his rambling only being interrupted by your intermittent questions which incited further tangents, or requests to pass the tea towel. His voice was a ruffled silken sheet, on which you would like to lay for eternity. Admittedly, you found it difficult to focus on retaining any more information than the odd date, due to being too focused on the way his lips moved to form every word he said, hopelessly enamoured by the overly enthusiastic expressions he made to match the tone of what he was saying. Eventually, he wandered towards the living room as you stacked away the final plate, butterflies still spurring in your stomach from when his fingers brushed yours as he handed it to you.

“Spencer Reid effortlessly navigating technology, Christmas miracles really do exist, huh?”

“Actually, I just remembered watching you choose music, instead of paying attention to the road, that one time you drove me to work,”

“I was most definitely paying attention,” you huffed out a laugh, slightly bashful at the thought of him remembering small things you do. “You hit the kerb four times! That was the day I vowed to never let you transport me anywhere,”

“I see your argument, and I raise you with the counter argument: the kerb hit me.” Sitting with his back against the couch, legs sprawled out over the rug beneath your coffee table, Spencer couldn’t hold back his laughter. After watching you disappear into the kitchen, he busied himself with reading the holiday edition of Reader’s Digest laying on the table. He recounted you telling him that you had accidentally drunkenly subscribed to it, and never bothered to cancel the subscription, the first time you’d caught him reading an issue. You emerged a short while later, with drinks in both hands. “Bonjour monsieur, on tonight’s menu, we can either open this Merlot or, drink Capri-suns like the sophisticated adults we are. Your pick,” you said, hiding the juice pouches behind your back and noticeably waving the bottle of wine in front of you. “I have a feeling it isn’t my pick,” he let out a laugh, “so just fill a glass with enough Merlot for two,” you were on your way to get a glass before he had the chance to finish. “Your wish is my command!” You called. Spencer put down his magazine once he saw you rushing towards him with a large glass of wine in hand. “Of course you opt for Christmas Jazz over Mariah Carey,” you teased, hearing the music he’d queued floating from the withering speaker in the corner of the living room. It was the kind of music that would play in the diner of an expensive hotel, you noted. “I can change it if you’d like?” He began reaching for your phone, when you halted him by grasping his arm. “No, it’s good, I like your taste.” Spencer grinned sheepishly, taking the glass from your hand as you sat down beside him.

Hours of conversation and decking the halls with tinsel later, with wine flushed cheeks and twinkling eyes you moved the furniture to cater for your very own dance floor. Carefully, Spencer placed a hand below your ribs, touching you like new glassware, lacing the other with yours. Your unfettered hand, replaced the weight of the world as it rested on his shoulder. You recognised the look on his face as he settled into the close proximity, it was the same look that painted yours when you admired him whilst he failed to notice. The soft glow of a lamp illuminated the man you held, making an indistinct halo of golden light appear above his unkempt hair. “I apologise for any damage caused to your feet,” you giggled, struggling to find a rhythm. “Here, follow my lead,” he looked down at your feet. “The Waltz?” Dazzled, you raised an eyebrow, a few seconds after recognising the box-like steps in unison. Spencer tried to focus on anything but your lips, glistening in the dull light, so close to his. “Mhm, I’m not exactly the most co-ordinated-”

“You don’t say?”

“That’s tough talk for someone I’ve seen fall up a flight of stairs,”

“That sounds made up, but as you were saying,” you laughed into his chest. “It’s simple because its a repeating pattern. Did you know that name of the dance comes from the German word waltzen, which means to turn, or to glide? Some say the dance itself comes from the folk music and dances of west Austria, but others debate that it’s a variation of the Volta, from the 16th century,”

“Interesting, makes sense to debate that though. I’m pretty sure volta means ‘a turning’ in Italian - although that’s mostly in reference to the turn of a new thought or idea in sonnets… I’m thinking of Shakespeare,” you chimed in. “Sonnet one-hundred and thirty being a classic example of that,”

“Of course you would know that,” you shook your head in awe, cheeks hurting from grinning too wide. The incandescence of the smile that hadn’t left his face all day was mesmerising, the honeyed expression tied together with the dimples on his cheeks and creases around his eyes. “What would you like for Christmas?” He mumbled, lifting a moment of peaceful silence. “If you pulled my name out of the hat today you’re going to have to be a lot more subtle than that,”

“Unfortunately not,” he pouted. “Don’t tell anyone I told you, but I have Rossi,” he whispered the words into your ear, neglecting that no one else was around to hear. “What do you get a man who already has everything money can buy?”

“A new wife,” you joked, causing him to scoff. He studied your visage as you pondered his earlier question, still swaying to the soft piano sounds. “Honestly Spencer, being able to see you smile, being in your vicinity, just that is enough for me,” you finally answered, tilting your head up at him. Spencer thought his knees would give way. He thought his knees would give way, and he would hit the ground with enough impact to implode through the earth’s crust. In reality, he only stumbled over his feet momentarily, regaining his composure before you noticed him slowly becoming unhinged. “If that’s the case, I wish I’d picked your name,” he managed to utter, breathlessly.

The music which continued to play was drowned out by the sound of steady breathing, you were too caught up in each other to pay attention to the world. Wordless, you looked into his eyes, his actions parallel to yours. “You look beautiful right now,” he sighed. “Of course, you always look beautiful but, you know.” You shook your head, refraining from averting your eyes from his. He wished you believed it, promising himself to never abstain from letting you know until you saw yourself the way he did. “It’s funny you say that, because I was thinking the same thing. About you of course,” you rushed out the last part, realising the potential for miscommunication. “I love seeing you happy,”

“Well, as long as you stick around, you’ll be seeing a lot of that,” he spoke lowly, on the verge of telling you about all the things he felt for you. You hadn’t realised, but you had unconsciously moved closer together. You could feel his warm breath on your skin, lighting a fire inside your lungs, as he took yours away. Spencer saw all of the signs; the signs that this was not usual for a friendship. Maybe, if it weren’t for his defeated battle with fear, and doubt, he would have told you by now that he had fallen desperately for you. Spencer knew there wasn’t a drop of insincerity behind any of the kind words you spoke into him, he understood that you were his person, but he found it difficult enough to comprehend that someone could feel this strongly for someone. So, the implausible idea that someone could feel this way about him, was one he was not even prepared to entertain. “Y/N? I, um,” he tried, wearily. You gave him a soft smile, both tired arms laced behind his neck now as his rested on your waist. He dropped his sword. Once again losing the fight against his unreasonable insecurities, changing his mind at the last second. “I need to give you something,” his demeanour changed and he vanished from your line of vision. Your heart sank, hopes of hearing him say that the love you had for him was requited, fallen. Before you got too lost in your head, he emerged from the doorway with the same black bag you’d been inquisitive of. “Uh, here, this is for, uh, you,” he tucked his lip beneath his teeth. “Spencer…” you trailed off as he handed it to you. You sat yourself on the carpet, patting the spot next to you for him to join. “I thought I should give it to you now, since I’ll be in Vegas for Christmas,”

“Spencer, you really didn’t have to-“

“Go on, open it,” he ignored your humility. You gave him a look as you opened it - it being replaced with a look of elation as you realised what it was. In your hands, you held a scarf, long enough to hit the floor, striped in all your favourite tones. “I had to ask my mom for help with the tassels, but-“

“You took the time to make this? For me?” You exclaimed. Without thought, you draped it around his neck to tug him closer to you, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. “This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, thank you so much,” you lauded, refusing to let go of him. “I think it was last winter, we were walking back to our hotel in Minnesota during a case, and you insisted that the both of us use my scarf to keep us warm, because you didn’t have one,”

“Ah, I remember that, except it ended up being one of the top ten worst disasters in U.S. history due to the height difference, and we both ended up falling face-first into the snow,” you giggled, recalling the way you had used up most of the hotel’s hot water afterwards. “Exactly,” he matched your expression, “seeing as you still haven’t bought one for yourself, even though we lose eighty percent of our body heat through our head and neck, I thought I would take matters into my own hands,”

“Well, I love it. You’ll have to tell your mother I said thank you and that I’m sending my love,” you finally dropped your arms from around him, out of fear of crushing his shoulders.

Once the zeroes had lined up on the twenty-four clock, Spencer sat where he usually resided on your bed, ardently admiring you as you folded away his gift. “Wait! Spencer close your eyes! Please!” You squeaked, immediately shutting the cupboard doors, realising your unwrapped present for him was hidden within. “Y/N? Is everything alright?” He asked, eyes now sealed shut. “I didn’t want you to see what I’d bought for Secret Santa,” you let out, too exhausted to form a coherent excuse. “We only got those names today - well, yesterday, now - so how did you manage to-”

“Shoot,” you cursed to yourself, knowing his unintentional profiling would lead him to the conclusion sooner or later. Spencer’s eyes slowly opened. “Okay, let’s say if, hypothetically, I had intended on giving you something for Christmas anyway, but then drawn your name today, would you, hypothetically, be able to act surprised when you receive it from me at work?”

“Hypothetically speaking, I would?” He squinted at you, stifling laughter. Your hair was slightly messy and your drowsy eyes were visible to Spencer even without his contacts in. He thought you just looked so adorable, wanting nothing more than to hold you and share your warmth. “Anyway, come to bed,” he beckoned, his voice gravelly, giving way for the day. Obliging, you shuffled towards your bed before sliding your cold feet beneath the covers. Spencer turned to face you, resting his cheek on an upturned palm. “Sorry for ruining the surprise,” you whispered, tucking the duvet under your chin, bright eyes looking through him. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he assured, treasuring the sight before him. There had been a shift in the air between the two of you. Spencer held the wine accountable, but he could sense that you felt it too, a level of intimacy that you had not quite reached during previous nights like this. “Come closer, I need to exploit your body heat while I can.” Spencer listened to your instruction, inching nearer to you, his heart rate so high he was sure you could feel it when you nuzzled your head into his chest. “Goodnight,” you felt his chest rumble. “Hang on, the night isn’t over yet,” you mumbled, “talk to me,”

“About?” He asked, amused by your grit to avoid sleep. “Anything you want,” you yawned. “You’re sleepy,” he stated, coaxing you into getting some shut eye. When you tilted your head up and continued to blink at him, he gave in. “Have you ever wondered why a lot of our most vulnerable conversations happen at night?” You nodded in response. “Well, a study done by the University of Colorado a couple of years ago concluded that natural light from the sun actually regulates your circadian rhythm, or internal biological clock, which standardises your sleep cycle. According to their study, this sleep cycle coincides with sunrise and sunset, meaning that if you regularly expose yourself to sunlight, your body enhances its internal clock to align more closely with the natural light cycle,”

“Based on that,” you contended, words slightly jumbled, “our circadian rhythm would vary between seasons, right? And yours would be different, since you’re a literal vampire, to say... someone who surfs down in Florida because of disparity in sun exposure?”

“Precisely,” he raised his eyebrows, “I’m impressed you’re still paying attention, you look like you’re already dreaming.” Spencer nudged your forehead gently with his own, causing you to breath out a laugh. “Alright, so how does all of that relate to being more vulnerable at night?”

“It relates in the sense that the rise and fall of the sun reflects in our physiological, as well as emotional behaviour. During the day, we’re a lot more active, and at night, we become more relaxed and receptive. Hence, since your mind is at ease, all the thoughts and emotions that might have felt jumbled up during the day become clear, making them a whole lot easier to express,”

“Mhm,” you managed, eyelids growing heavy. “Do you… have anything to say now,” you whispered drowsily, eyes now closed, “that you can’t say during the day?” Spencer couldn’t handle it anymore. He was already so fond of you but as his hand settled to rest around your waist, feeling your warmness, he believed his ribs could collapse from the way he felt inside. As you dozed off, gradually, winter became less cold in his arms and dreamscapes of his tea leaf eyes. “And, she’s asleep,” he whispered, minutes after silence, into your hair, “but to answer your question, yes,” his lips planted a chaste kiss on your forehead, “I love you.” Of course, unbeknownst to him, you weren’t asleep just yet.

∗∗∗

A couple of days went by, and as more time went on, the less certain you became as to whether Spencer had really even said the words, wondering if the whole thing was just a fatigue driven hallucination your lovesick mind had conjured up. Waking up beside him the next morning however, tangled in a warm cocoon of cotton and limbs, had left you feeling giddy, smiling like a fool with heart shaped eyes as he attempted to feed you the waffles he’d made - which the two of you gulped down far too quickly than sanctioned, to avoid being late for work. When you didn’t succeed, and the clock had beaten you by ten minutes, you both wrestled past evocative looks from the rest of the team for the remainder of the day, JJ even singing something about the two of you ‘sitting in a tree’ . The soft, shared, smiles and light brushes of fingertips when he handed you coffee in the mornings left you wanting to concede; let him know that you would walk on burning coal for him, the more logical side of you reminding you that professing your devotion to him over an open case file consisting of a double homicide, three days before Christmas, was far from ideal. Spencer wanted the kind of love only the poets could express. This had become evident the evening you took him to a midnight screening of ‘Un homme et Une Femme’. You recalled leaning into him to translate, catching sight of his welling eyes glimmer in the dim lit theatre. Believing his love should be celebrated, you decided to withhold the unsurfaced feelings a little while longer.

Later that week, you all gathered around the BAU tree, a small framed picture of Derek decidedly hanging from one of its upper branches after Garcia had to be heavily persuaded, and eventually bribed, to not place it at the top, arguing “But he’s my star.” Spencer snuck behind you, subtly placing a hand on your back to glide through and place Rossi’s gift under the tree. “I want to let you know that I’ve been practicing my ‘surprised’ face in the mirror,” he discreetly whispered against your neck, making you roll your eyes. “Okay super sleuths, I know we’re all itching to fly away for a break, but hold your reindeer, because we are yet to kick off our annual Secret Santa,” Garcia excitedly exclaimed, shuffling in with two large sparkling bags. “I thought there was a budget?” Rossi quirked. “Yes, sir,” she looked smug, “for you.” The team shared smiles at Rossi’s perplexed look. “So, who wants to start us off?” Garcia chirped. With that, the festivities were under way. You held tight an abnormally large heat sensitive mug, which you were sure would also reveal a promiscuous image once warm - a gift from Emily, who gave herself away by insisting it would help your caffeine dependency - watching as the others tackled ribbon wrapping paper. You threw an impressed look Spencer’s way, that glint of knowing something the universe doesn’t returning to your eyes, when Rossi opened a small portrait of what looked to be a Venetian cathedral, the Santa Maria to be exact. Once the banter and excited chatter had died down, everyone turned to the recipient of the final gift, neatly labelled Spencer Reid, enveloped in brown paper and tied with deep purple ribbon. Penelope looked as if she were about to pass out. Spencer’s shifting eyes landed on JJ as she mouthed a small ‘you’re up’, causing a smile to tug at his lips when he eyed you gazing at him with the soft look he adored. Your eyes lingered on his hands as they swimmingly untied the mauve knot and tore open the paper to reveal a large leather-bound journal. He examined the old looking thing, trailing his fingers along the convoluted golden details of the artistic interpretation of a moon calendar adorning its umber covers, partially covered by thin leather straps. His mouth was slightly agape, shaking a little at how well you knew him, clumsily catching the matching novelty pen before it slipped out of the wrapping and onto the floor. You had picked it up at a forlorn occult shop after it had caught your eye while looking out of place as it lay surrounded by large crystals. Knowing in an almost divine way that it should belong to Spencer, you had bought it. He couldn’t help but look at you briefly, communicating a silent gratitude. “This is amazing,” he ogled, “I love it.” Your heartbeat was in your throat. He was yet to find out you’d filled the first page for him.

Shouts of Merry Christmas, long hugs and season’s greetings were thrown around the room before, one by one, everyone slowly bade their goodbyes. While helping JJ clear away torn reds and greens of gift wrapping, you caught sight of Spencer, ears and cheeks scarlet, with his nose buried in his new, opened, journal.

“We are asleep until we fall in love," you looked up from Leo Tolstoy’s one thousand page book and recited to me, once. Since you walked into my life, I’ve been wide awake. You know that I’m never far away, but this is for the days you need to let out some of what you hold in, without saying it aloud.

I love you too, Spencer.

Spencer read and re-read the words until he was sure he could recite them like the Lord’s Prayer. It was commonly Spencer who remembered small details and remembered paltry quotations, but this time, it was you. Sitting in the glow of the afternoon sun, one October, he had been reading War and Peace, and couldn’t help but share the line with you as you sat across from him, chewing through a much smaller number of pages and reading a collection of poetry. The woman he had been so captivated by, admiring from afar that day - and all others, felt the same way he did. In disbelief, he began breathing manually. Making sure he was deciphering the cursive lettering correctly, he scanned the page again. While his eyes were definitely not deceiving him, they remained glued to one word. Awake. The havoc caused in his heart by the train of thought hitting him so brutally, rivalled only Gare Montparnasse. You must’ve heard his confession nights ago. It was the only explanation for the ‘I love you, too’. You most definitely were awake. Profiling tendencies overcame him. With his basic background of graphology, he could make out that the last line had been written in fresher ink than all the others, confirming his hypothesis. For the first time in a while, his mind was quiet, the uncertainties which fought to float in, unable to make their way through as if the thee simple words you’d handed him were a barrier for them. He needed to talk to you.

Walking quickly towards the elevator, an overwhelming wave of anxiety crashed over you. You had subconsciously been avoiding Spencer for most of the evening, second-guessing whether or not you’d heard him correctly, whether he’d even meant the words in the way you’d interpreted, wondering what you would do if this friendship were to ever end. However, a more hopeful side of you contended to quiet those thoughts. He had to feel it too. There was no room in which you hadn’t shared a longing look. The feather touches, and dancing. So badly did you want to believe that he thought this too. A slender arm appeared through the closing elevator doors, tugging you back to reality, causing you to jump before quickly pushing the open button. “Spencer! You could’ve lost an arm!” You yelped. “It’s okay, I have two of them,” he huffed. He avoided your eyes for a moment, before inhaling half of the oxygen in the small lift and turning towards you. “I wanted to say thank you, for this,” he held up the book, “it’s gorgeous, and sort of… exactly what I needed - and not just the book itself but what you wrote… inside it,” he nervously looked at you. “Did you- do you mean what you wrote?” His tone of voice syringed into you a drop of hurt. “Spencer, I never want you to think that I don’t mean it,” your let out in a shaky voice, gently grasping his elbow. You visibly saw his body ease, a smitten smile replacing the lip being chewed at. His throat bobbed as he gulped before he spoke again, heartbeat in his ears. “I want you to know that I’m in love with you, Y/N. I don’t want you the way I want a best friend, I want you in a-” he sighed, clenching and unclenching his fist trying to find the words, “I want you in a way that means I want to fall asleep beside you, and wake up to you the next morning, for as long as the sun rises. I want you. I want you - no, need you, the way the tide needs the moon to rise and fall, I want you-” he swallowed, furrowing his brows at his feet, “I want you, like this.” Hazel eyes fluttering shut was the last thing you saw. Large hands lightly caressed your face, one travelling behind your ear, brushing your neck to delicately tangle in your hair. After years of wondering, you finally knew what his lips felt like on yours. His nose bumped yours lightly as you tasted his soft lips, their slight chap reminding you that winter had kissed them first. Your hands wrapped around his wrists, before one settled on his tilted jaw and another hid in his chestnut hair. He felt warm, everywhere you touched setting electricity through him. Even after you pulled apart, his arms remained on either side of your face, holding you like you were fragile. His breath fanned over your face, as you shivered, the fluttering in your stomach unsubdued. The elevator had long reached the ground floor, causing the two of you to bashfully laugh concurrently. You thought to yourself that Spencer’s crimson flush and wide grin was a sight you would lose sleep to gaze at. “All this time, I’ve been missing out on that,” you teased, watching him shyly bite his lip as he waited for you to say something else. “I’m very glad you said all of that because I’m very much in love with you, Spencer Reid, and, if you’ll let me, I want to love you, the way people love in all the books you’ve lent me,” you told him. At that, he was sure his heart was yours, fearlessly. So, making afternoon plans and debating which train to take, neither of you really caring as long as you were in the other’s company, you finally stepped out of the elevator, oblivious to the mistletoe that was hanging within it, but more than mindful of what was to come.

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nightwishesworld · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! I love your writing and if you do take request, might I ask for a family night (including Heisenberg) playing Monopoly please? (OC is already in a loving relationship with Alcina and the girls love her)

Oh boy anon, this was by far the most difficult thing I’ve ever written. It’s not my best cause I know zero about the game so I had to try and work around it. Hope you enjoy anyway!

It's that time of the week again in the Dimitrescu castle. The most sacred and anticipated time of the week; not hunting, not harvesting, not even wine tasting... it's game night.

As soon as the sun sets the girls swarm in the drawing room to ready the space for the night's antics. Daniela digs out the game while Sorine opens all the curtains, letting the warm light of the moon shine through, and Victoria lights the fire and torches. It became a ritual not long after you moved into the castle. The girls often confided in you how they wished to spend more quality time with their mother on more than one occasion. Hunting maidens and harvesting their blood was fun, but they've been doing that forever! It was no longer as thrilling as it once was, not it felt more like a chore that needed to be done. And you can't count how many times Alcina admitted to feeling guilty about not giving her daughters more of her time. So when you pitched the idea of a routine game night, you got very little pushback.

The only one who hesitated was Daniela, and only because she insisted on inviting Uncle Heisenberg, which was totally fine. You get along rather well with the werewolf and enjoy his visits. Getting in touch with him was rather difficult though. Most of his visits were spontaneous reasons to see his favorite nieces, while the other few were strictly business-related held by Alcina. It took her some time to locate her brother, but it also gave you some time to make your way back down to your old home in the village to gather your collection of board games and puzzles. Some were missing a few pieces or cards, but they would have to do for now. Worst case scenario you just buy new ones.

When Alcina finally got ahold of Heisenberg he eagerly accepted and promised to start making his way back to the castle; the girls were thrilled. After all, it wouldn't be proper family bonding time without good ol' Uncle Heis.

In the beginning, it was decided that everyone took turns deciding what game they were going to play. The cycle started with you of course, since the whole thing was your idea, then went from oldest to youngest. Everyone had a blast playing against each other and laughing at one another. You can't remember a time you'd seen Alcina laugh so hard, she was almost brought to tears. Everything was just peachy until Victoria, ever the mischief-maker decided you should play Monopoly. The poor Dimitrescu's had no idea what brand of hellish gameplay awaited them. Only an hour and a half in and Daniela had successfully bankrupt her own mother. The proud look plastered on the girl's face would have been more amusing if it weren't for Alcina losing her temper. That was the one time you couldn't wait for the night to end, and hopefully, never play it again.

Much later that night in bed with Alcina curled up on your chest you woke with a chill running down your spine. It's Daniela's turn to pick the game.

Which is how you ended up lounging on your favorite chair by the fire watching Daniela and Heisenberg setting up the board and organizing the money. Again.

Alcina is sat on the floor next to you leaning comfortably against your chair sipping her third glass of wine. "Why are we doing this again?"

You give her a sympathetic smile. "You know why, dearest, it's game night."

She only rolls her eyes at you. "You know what I mean, draga mea. Why monopoly?"

"It was Dani's turn to chose the game. It'll be fun, don't worry Al."

"Yeah Mother," Victoria giggles. "What's wrong with monopoly?"

"You mean other than how overly competitive and childish you all become?"

You were about to open your mouth when Heisenberg started to laugh. "You say 'you all' as if you aren't just as bad."

Alcina chose to ignore him in favor of her wine.

"Ah! Mother's just upset cause she knows I'm gonna make her go bankrupt again," Daniela smiled as her sisters snickered. "I forget, what did you say you were going to do to me, Mother?"

This caused the chorus of giggles to erupt into laughter. "She said she was going to disown you!" Sorine choked out.

"Forging an alliance against your mother is just plain rude! And you-" she points to Heisenberg, "you stole my companion!"

Laughter erupted in the drawing room. You leaned against Alcina's arm as you lost the ability to breathe. "I did not steal them," Heisenberg handed you both your starting $1500. "I was in a financial bind and y/n was willing to make a deal."

"And just like that our alliance was born." You lean forward and fist-bumped the werewolf. "Let's let Al join us tonight, Heis, now we'll be even against the girls."

He ponders for a moment before noticing his sister's golden eyes burning into him and hastily shakes her hand. "Welcome to the team, sis."

Alcina sighed and accepted his hand in a near bone-crushing grip. You tried not to notice the man wincing. "About damn time."

You shot Alcina finger guns with a wink and "pew pew" and she full-heartedly laughs. "What on Hell's earth was that?"

"A dumb human thing, don't worry about it."

"Horray!" Daniela grinned. "Now Mother has a fighting chance."

"Now girls," you chided. "Let's try to keep this friendly tonight, ok? As funny as it was, and it was," Alcina glares at you from behind her wine glass. "We're going to let it go now. No more ganging up on your mother."

The girls gave an innocent smile, "of course y/n."

"Wouldn't dream of it, y/n."

"Cross my heart hope to die!"

Wait, aren't they already dead? You shook your head. Doesn't matter.

"Are we using the same pieces as last time?"

"Might as well," you saw before Daniela can get a word out. "We were all happy with our tokens last time, yes?"

Daniela huffed and crossed her arms. "I want to be the dog!"

"Aw come on, Dani," Sorine says. "I think it's only fair Uncle Heis gets to be the dog."

"Since, ya know, he is a dog," Victoria smirks.

To say the atmosphere of the room was intense would be an understatement. But, you couldn't be entirely unhappy with the course of events either since your alliance was winning. Victoria is bankrupt and Daniela has been sitting in jail for the past three turns. Alcina refuses to sell her Get out of Jail Free card. Oh, how the tables have turned. Daniela, much like her dearest mother, is far too stubborn for her own good. She refuses to pay Heisenberg the $50 to get out of jail and Alcina simply refuses to bail her out. Petty revenge, but entertaining nonetheless. It's after midnight now and you're finding it difficult not to doze off against the vampire's arm. Heisenberg is awake pacing around the room as he lost interest in the stalemate already. He was nice enough to take his heavy boots off so he wouldn't disturb Sorine and Victoria's slumber. His repetitive pace was starting to lull you to sleep. You allow yourself to close your eyes for a minute, listening to Alcina's breathing and Heisenberg's hushed stomping circling around you.

The fire was reduced to crackling embers and you were left shivering under Heisenberg's coat. Out of desperation, you kiss the top of Alcina's gloved hand. "Nu putem termina în dimineața? Hai să mergem la culcare." You know she loves it when you talk in Romanian to her. Hopefully, it will give you the advantage you need to end this ridiculousness.

"I've got her cornered, y/n. A little while longer and she'll crack."

Daniela only squinted her eyes and hissed.

You were about to give up and let yourself fall asleep on Alcina when Heisenberg came stomping over, pure anger painted on his face, and kicked the coffee table over. Sorine and Victoria were startled awake by the crashing sound and snowfall of cards. It was honestly the most magical thing that happened all night. He shouted something along the lines of "Go to bed!" but you couldn't make it out over Daniela and Alcina's screams. They pay you little mind as they chase Heisenberg out of the room and down the corridor, the sounds of vases and antique decor crashing following them as they go.

Sorine stands over you looking at you through bleary eyes, extending her hand to help you up. "Bed?"

A lion's yawn overcomes you and you smile. "Bed."

#lady dimitrescu x reader #lady alcina #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #tall vampire lady #lady dimitrescu #monopoly broke me

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junicai · 4 years ago

Text

lights out.

| summary | In New York, the City that Never Sleeps, Aria can’t sleep. So, her roommate comes up with a skeptical idea, and ropes Mark into it as well.

| word count | 3.7k

| warnings | one (1) curse word

| era | circa. April 2019

92. "Just remember if we get caught, you’re deaf and I don’t speak English."

New York City.

Forever illuminated in light, forever alive and bustling down below the skyrises that towered above the people that wandered through the streets no matter what time was displayed on the clocks. The city was teeming with energy, bubbling beneath the surface as it waited for a chance to explode.

Traffic backlogged street to street, wandering souls pattering around the block in search of nothing, aimlessly strolling past the busy business-goers, those that carried briefcases with carefully filed notes and papers, and those that had dragged themselves out of their beds for the graveyard shift in the neon-lighted coffeehouse.

24-hour Coffee! The best coffee you’ll find in the Big Apple!

The noise outside the window was muffled through the thick glass but the busy sounds of the city still filtered through, gently falling in to the otherwise silent hotel room.

Aria rolled over onto her side, pressing her head into the soft pillow. The red LED lights of the alarm clock sitting on the locker beside her bed was boring the colour into her retinas, and no good could come from simply watching the minutes tick by.

The blankets were soft, if not a little cold on her skin, and she pulled her legs into her chest to rub at the exposed skin lightly. Donghyuck had insisted on leaving the air conditioning on as they slept, the boy living up to his name Fullsun as he ran hot near-constantly, but that left Aria to shiver slightly despite the mountain of blankets she had buried herself beneath.

Rolling back over to the cool side of the pillowcase, Aria let her eyes fall on Donghyuck’s back.

The boy wasn’t asleep - she could hear the low sounds coming from the airpods in his ears as he watched something on his phone - but he looked comfortable enough that she was reluctant to disturb him.

It had been a long day, and tomorrow was their only real designated day in this area before they were scheduled to be flown out to their next concert.

Aria loved touring, but it was hard to keep going sometimes. She assumed that Donghyuck thought the same, and that’s why instead of insisting that the pair of them watched something on his laptop, or played a game, he was letting her sleep in peace.

He had watched Aria push herself past what they both had thought her limits had been that day - watched as she stumbled through the final songs of their set with blurry eyes and a shaking frame. He’d moved to wrap an arm around her waist as soon as they had broken formation, and she’d given him a shaky smile for his efforts.

Donghyuck had guided a rapidly blinking Aria through their ending ments and off the stage, catching her as she slipped down the last two steps. He’d practically carried her into the car, waving off an insisting Yuta, who was adamant that he could help despite still favoring the ankle he had rolled two nights ago.

They were all running a little worse-for-wear, but, by god the crowds made up for it.

He had known that NCT 127 had an international fanbase, had known that they were popular overseas for years. But there was nothing like seeing a crowd of five thousand, even eight thousand people from a country that didn’t speak their language, singing their songs and screaming their fanchants at the top of their lungs.

It settled into his bones, pushed him past his old boundaries to create new ones, made him want to keep going and keep singing, keep dancing, keep performing until his knees went from beneath him and he fell to the ground with a thud.

Donghyuck knew Aria felt the same, and that’s why he took it upon himself to pull her away when she needed him to.

Despite their broadly opposite personalities - truly the sun and the moon when it came down to it - they were similar in so many ways. Scarily so.

Scary, in so far as the fact that Donghyuck knew when Aria couldn’t take it anymore, knew when she was stumbling and falling not because she was tired but because she’d hurt her back again and was unwilling to talk about it. Scary, in the fact that he knew when she wasn’t telling them something, choosing to bite her lip instead of letting whatever worry that was bouncing around in her head fall onto their shoulders to help carry the weight.

Donghyuck wanted to help her carry those things. Even if that meant carrying her as well.

The two of them had slipped into the hotel room at nine minutes past ten, showering briefly in the small bathroom they had adjoined to the left wall and slid into the two beds with a quiet goodnight. It had been silent since Aria had leant down to turn off the centre light, only the light peeking through the curtains from the street and the light of Donghyuck’s phone screen to illuminate the dark room left.

He had thought she had fallen asleep soon after - given the bleary squinted look she had given him in the van home as she told her to not fall asleep just yet, that they’d be home soon and then she could sleep - so you could imagine his surprise as he flipped over in the bed, letting the phone fall face down and was met with the image of Aria starfished over her single bed, staring open-eyed at the ceiling.

“Ari?” Donghyuck cleared his throat. “Ari? Why’re you awake still?”

Aria’s head flopped to the side to look at Donghyuck in the opposite bed, blinking once at him before closing her eyes and groaning. “Can’t sleep.”

He hummed, lifting up the corner of his blanket with a hand as the other pushed his phone onto the bedside locker to make sure it didn’t fall off the bed.

Without a word, Aria slid out from underneath her own blankets - pulling one from the top layer - and padded across the room to slide into Donghyuck’s embrace, fluffing the extra blanket on top of them both.

Donghyuck sniffed a laugh at her, but said nothing as he dropped his arm around her waist to pull her closer to him and snuggled his head into where her shoulder meets her neck.

Aria giggled lightly at his hair tickling her skin, moving her head away from the strands until the hand around her waist squeezed once.

“It tickles,” She whispered.

“But m’comfy like this,” He responded, shoving his head further in if possible and throwing a leg over hers.

“Just-” Aria moved some of his hair away from her face. “Better.”

“Better?”

“Its not in my face anymore.”

Donghyuck lifted his head from her shoulder to peer up at her face. “Why couldn’t you sleep? You were sleepy in the van.”

Aria huffed. “No I wasn’t.”

“You hit your head against the window when you dozed off.”

“I-”

“Twice.”

She sighed through her nose. “If it bruises I’m going to be upset. My face is my only selling point right now.”

A silence permeated the room, and Donghyuck sat up.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” He asked again.

Aria flipped to lay on her stomach, shoving her head into the pillow. “I dunno. Think I have some excess energy to burn off or something.”

“You were literally dead on your feet three hours ago,” Donghyuck said.

“I know that. I just, feel like I need to go on a walk or something. Just to move or do something that isn’t lying in a bed in the middle of New York.” Aria muffled out into the fabric, kicking her legs slightly.

Donghyuck caught a wayward ankle before it could hit him in the face. “Hey, kicking your best friend was not on that list!”

“It could be.”

Scowling, he fell back beside her, scooching closer. The pair laid together for a moment, listening to the sound of traffic from outside.

“You want to go for a walk?” Donghyuck was the one to break the silence, looking down at Aria.

“Yeah.”

“Then let’s go.”

Aria lifted her head to blink up at him. “It’s like,” she broke off to turn her head towards the clock, blinking rapidly to bring the LED numbers into view, “Half one in the morning, I don’t think the hotel gym is open.”

“I don’t mean the gym. I mean out there.” Donghyuck pointed to the window.

This time it was Aria who sat up, rubbing at her eyes. “Hyuck, what?”

“You want to go for a walk? Let’s go for a walk. Who’s gonna stop us?”

“Our managers? The fact that its nearly two in the morning? The fact that Taeyong will kill us?” She said, bewildered.

Donghyuck sat up to face her properly. “They won’t know! We could be quick - promise. You can’t tell me you don’t want to see the city properly.”

Aria spluttered. “We have seen the city! We took that bus tour around when we first arrived!”

He scoffed. “I meant properly, Ari. Like a local. How the city is meant to be.”

“We could get murdered.”

“Bold of you to assume I’d let that happen.”

Aria swallowed. “What happens if we get caught on the way out?”

“Simple: Lie.” Donghyuck leant back on his hands like this wasn’t the worst plan he had ever come up with in his nineteen years of life.

It wasn’t often that Aria went along with his ideas - nine times out of ten, she was usually the one talking him out of them. It was only when she’d run out of patience, or the will to give the effort to barter logic out with him that she’d give in. Or in cases like this.

“Fine.”

Donghyuck let out a whoop, reaching over to the locker to snag his phone off the top of it and flicking the screen unlocked. Aria in turn proceeded to roll off the bed and onto the carpet, looking for the pair of leggings she had worn through the airport to cover her legs so she didn’t go wandering around the city in a pair of sleep shorts.

Finding the black coloured material hanging on the back of the chair, she could hear Donghyuck texting someone behind her.

“Who’s that?” She asked, not bothering to turn around as she moved into the bathroom and partially shut the door to allow her both privacy and the ability to continue her conversation with him.

“Mark - Thought we should tell someone where we’re gone, right?”

Aria stopped. “Does he want to come?”

“Given the angry texts I’ve just received about quote, missing out on stuff like this now that he’s not in Dream: I’d say a solid yes.”

Aria nodded, before realizing that he couldn’t see her. “Is Jungwoo coming as well then?”

Mark was rooming with Jungwoo this time around, the members alternating on a rotational basis.

Donghyuck shook his head. “No, he says that Jungwoo is too tired. He’ll keep a lookout for Taeyong for us though, which is good.”

“Huh, that’s nice of him.” Aria re-emerged from the bathroom, leggings pulled up over her hips and a large hoodie swamping her frame. With her thin wire glasses, she looked cosy and extremely comfortable.

Donghyuck himself was still wearing a pair of sweatpants, and pulled one of his hoodies on over his t-shirt before rummaging in the pile of shoes to find something comfortable.

Without looking back, he tossed out Aria’s runners, who caught them with a thanks before sitting down on the ground to do up the laces.

He succeeded in finding his own pair of shoes, pulling them in just before two light knocks sounded against their door. Aria pulled it open to reveal a bleary-eyed but excited Mark, a padded jacket pulled over his jumper.

"You are insane." Was the first thing out of his mouth.

"You're welcome to leave?" Sniffed Aria.

Mark frowned. "I never said I wasn't."

Opening the door wider, she revealed Donghyuck who had just stood up from the edge of the bed, brushing down his pants. He looked up to meet Mark's eyes and grinned.

"Let's go!" He cheered, moving to walk out into the hallway but being stopped by Aria catching the neck of his jumper and tugging him back.

Looking at her quizzically, he raised an eyebrow.

"You need a coat? It's nearly two in the morning it's going to be cold outside."

Aria herself had pulled on a jacket once Mark had arrived, but Donghyuck was still only clad in a threadbare hoodie that wouldn't protect him from the cold outside.

Reaching back over the bed, he pulled out his cost from beneath a chair and slid his arms into it wordlessly. He turned to Aria and spread his arms out into a display. "Happy?"

"It's better."

"Guys do you think we could not do this in the hallway? I really don't want to get caught by someone right now." Mark's voice came from just inside the doorway.

"Right, right," Aria agreed, shoving Donghyuck out the door and snatching the keycard off the table just before they left.

She slipped the keycard into her inside pocket of her jacket, zipping it closed before patting the padded material lightly. “Safe and sound.”

Mark, closed the door behind them. The beep sounded as the mechanism locked itself, and the trio were left standing alone in the empty hallway.

Donghyuck stretched his arms above his head, wincing slightly as his shoulder clicked. “Just remember if we get caught, you’re deaf and I don’t speak English.”

Aria paused. “Hyuck, you don’t speak English.”

“I’m deaf and you don’t speak English.”

“And what do I do? You planning on leaving me for dead?” Mark asked, arms crossed.

Donghyuck only pat him on the shoulder, moving to rest his weight onto his elbow. “You, are fast. You’ll be fine.”

“You, are a terrible influence.”

“A proud one.”

Aria put a hand on one of their shoulders each, pushing the two boys forward down the hallway insistently. “Let’s not have this argument where we can be found in incriminating circumstances, okay boys?”

Donghyuck snorted. “Aria we’re not going to go to jail for sneaking out.”

“Doyoung might put Aria on house arrest,” Mark countered.

“Then let’s not wait around for him to find her!”

With that, the trio made their way down the hallway, choosing to take the stairs down to the ground floor instead of the elevator - hoping to avoid as many people as possible. Aria had slipped three black facemasks into her pocket before they had left the room, knowing that if they were to be spotted they’d need something to help them blend in.

The front doors of the hotel slid open with a quiet beep, and she was blasted with a cold front of air. She could feel her nose twitch slightly at the breeze, and knew that she’d be returning with a rosy tinge to her skin if they stayed out longer than a few minutes.

But instead of letting that bother her, Aria chose to focus on the identical wide grins Donghyuck and Mark sported, both boys looking around in wonder at the lights that surrounded them on the pavement.

“Shall we?” Aria extended her arms playfully, giggling lightly as they both linked their arms into hers.

Beginning their walk down the pavement, she could only look around in wonder. New York truly lived up to it’s name - dozens of people were milling about even at this time, all clad in various thicknesses of coats, and Aria felt herself relax minutely at the knowledge that the trio didn’t stick out against the colorful lights like a sore thumb.

Each street had something new, and her eyes grew wider with every sign they passed as they walked.

“Mark look!” Aria pointed towards a small bookstore on the corner of the block, dropping his arm to run towards the window. “Doesn’t that look like the notebook you wanted to get in Atlanta?”

A small, green leather-bound notebook had piqued Mark’s interest in the city earlier that month, but by the time he had had the time to get to the bookstore, the notebook had been sold.

The notebook that Aria pointed out was near identical - perhaps a little bit thicker, but close enough to the original that Mark was already planning on how he was going to get back to this street tomorrow when all the shops were opened back up.

“Do you think we could come back here tomorrow to get it for you?” Aria looked away from the window, eyes shining hopefully.

Mark reached out to tug Aria underneath his arm, pulling her into his side. “I’m sure we can figure something out, Ari.”

She clapped her hands lightly to celebrate, before Donghyuck was taking them both by the hand and dragging them both back down the street which they had walked up.

“Now, while you’ve both been looking for fancy notebooks, I’ve been doing some important area recon, and have discovered that,” He trailed off, continuing walking with a firm grip on their wrists.

“Ta-da!” Donghyuck came to a stop, releasing their wrists before making jazz hands beside his face.

Behind him, was a small food cart with an attendee that looked like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world.

“Pretzels?” Mark asked with a tilted head.

“Pretzels.” Donghyuck nodded emphatically.

Aria tugged lightly on the younger boy’s sleeve. “Hyuck, I don’t think any of us brought money with us-”

Donghyuck hummed, cutting her off. “Got you covered, angel.” pulling out his phone and taking several small bills from behind his opaque phone case.

Turning to the attendee with a blinding smile he strolled forward to the cart, opening his mouth to begin speaking.

“Can I.. we..”

Mark stepped up behind him. “Order,” he whispered, facing the pavement so his lips weren’t visible to the man.

“Order.. three.. three,”

“Pretzels,”

“Pretzels please?” Donghyuck finished, looking up at the man curiously.

“Yeah,” Came the deadened response. “That’ll be $9.87.”

Donghyuck fumbled with his hands momentarily, before placing three bills into the awaiting hand and stepping back from the cart, shoving his hands into his pocket.

Aria came up beside him as Mark waited at the front of the cart. “Hyuck, I don’t think I should..”

He turned his head to look at her. “Hm?”

“I don’t think I should, eat that. You know?” She looked down knawing at her lip slightly.

“I think you should.” He said.

“No I really shouldn’t-”

Aria was cut off by Mark approaching them, three warm pretzels in his hand. He handed one to Donghyuck who took it with an affirming hum before ripping into the bread with his teeth, and handed the other to a cautious Aria.

After Mark had taken his first bite, he looked quizzically at Aria who was staring traitorously at the bread in her hand. “Ari?”

She sighed, dropping her shoulders a little. “I’m sorry, I don’t know if I should-”

Aria squeaked when both Donghyuck’s and Mark’s glare was turned on her. “Guys I-”

“Pretzel.”

A protest formed on the top of her tongue, but fell flat when Mark raised an eyebrow.

“Ok, ok sorry.” Aria took a bite from the now-cooling snack.

Satisfied, both boys went back to their own snacks, sighing lightly as the trio continued their walk back down the streets they had come. From a different angle, they noticed new things each time, and it was so easy to lose track of the time when they were staring up in wonder at the neon lights.

The atmosphere was broken by a ping from Mark’s phone.

Jungwoo [2:08] uh

Jungwoo [2:08] taeyong hyung started his rounds

Jungwoo [2:08] id recommend getting ur asses back

Jungwoo [2:09] ill stall him

Mark [2:09] how long do we have

Jungwoo [2:09] seven minutes. tops

Mark [2:09] fuck

The trio turned on their heels, pelting down the pavement.

The people they passed looked oddly at them - they must have made a comical sight. Three twenty-year-olds, dressed in padded jackets and facemasks sprinting down the street at two am. They looked like they’d just committed a robbery.

Aria could feel sweat beading at her forehead beneath her headband, pulling it off and tucking it into her pocket. These shoes were not designed for sprinting, and she could feel the rough plastic digging into her ankle already.

“How long do you think it’ll take us to get back?” Aria yelled over to the other boys, the blood rushing in her ears.

Mark slipped out his phone from his pocket, pulling it up close to his face and checking the time. “Four minutes? We’ve gone in a big circle.”

“We’re dead.” Donghyuck breathed out harshly, picking up speed.

Silence filled in the wind rushing past their ears, feet pounding against the pavement. Mark barely stopped himself before crashing into a small child clinging sleepily to an older woman’s hand; twisting his body out of the way at the last second before profusely apologizing.

It seemed like an eternity before they reached the front doors of the hotel they were staying at for the next two nights.

Panting, Aria slowed to a walk, pulling at the neck of her sweater to fan herself. She took slow and deep breaths, trying to calm her pulse before they made their way into the lobby.

Starting forward, she was stopped by Donghyuck’s hand on her shoulder and Mark’s sharp intake of breath.

“Oh. Oh god.”

“Mark? You alright?” Aria turned to face the boy, watching his face drain of colour.

He lifted a hand, pointing to the one window on the fifth floor with a light still on. It stood out against the other darkened windows, like a lightstick in a sea of concert-goers. And there, illuminated against the cream-coloured curtains, was Taeyong’s silhouette.

Donghyuck huffed. “Aria, this was a terrible idea!”

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shelby-love · 4 years ago

Text

KELLY SEVERIDE

Skeletons and Whatnot.

Requested: yes

Prompts: none

Warning(s): none

Author’s note: I feel like this is rubbish, but I also feel like it’s not. 50/50 (1.6K words - might come back to edit it tomorrow)

Also you can see how tired I am (it's 4:30AM) I mean what is this title??? GOOD NIGHT.

"That's not possible. Check again."

"But I already did! Like a million times!"

"Adam, I swear to God-"

"Alright, alright…" Your colleague mumbled, turning on his chair to run the data yet again.

While he sat on the chair, looking through files he didn't have a clue about, you were leaning against the wall and shaking in your boots. Your heart hammered and your palms felt clammy.

Not possible. I killed him.

"No look it says right there," Adam declared; proud of himself for being able to gather information like this on his own. "Some girl named Lucy Riggs pawned a gun she got off some guy named Jon Prescott.

You squinted your eyes at the information that made no sense. "Get to the point."

Adam visibly swallowed, "Turns out the guy's name isn't Jon. Shocker. It's actually Parker Torres."

Your blood ran cold at his words. A million thoughts raced through your head. You wondered where he was, what he was doing… The questions that evaded your mind are usually normal, but here, when you thought about the dark man of your past, the questions seemed to be anything but normal.

"What about the gun?"

Adam clicked away until a picture of a metallic gun popped out. "Smith & Wesson Model 64 revolver."

Next thing you knew, a chain of vulgar profanities escaped your mouth, and you couldn't stop them. Ruzek's eyes widened ever so slightly at your lack of composure. "Mind telling me what this all about?"

You took a deep breath. "My skeleton escaped the closet."

***

The lack of information you found within the last couple of days was mind blowing. The only lead you had was the gun that wasn't even in your possession, having gotten lost in a misfit of undocumented sales.

Lucy wasn't of help either. The poor girl just wanted to get rid of her husband's gun, saying everything but useful information along the way. "If he wants a gun, then he better get a good one… A new one too! I don't want that piece of garbage in my house. God only knows who used that gun!" Lucy told you, just 48 hours ago. Those exact same words.

She was right about one thing.

That dammed gun went through so many hands and took double more lives.

And you didn't even have a lead.

"You look like crap," Kevin Atwater teased, handing you a steaming cup of coffee.

You didn't even manage to smile, looking at him through your shades that were, so far, doing a great job at concealing the bags under your eyes from the world.

"Rough night?"

"Mhmm."

Kevin didn't know that you no longer lived with Kelly. The temporary solution to your problems turned out to be moving back to your own place. Putting Kelly in harm's way, no matter how much he thought otherwise, was something you didn't want to do. The comfort of his bed and body were replaced by a thin blanked and an uncomfortable dining chair.

Dozens of glass decorations were laid out all over your apartment. On every window still, next to every door… On every surface, really. You slept on the dining chair 5 yards from your front door with a pistol strapped to your back, a shotgun under the chair and a rifle wrapped around your two arms, acting as a teddy bear for every time you dozed off.

Friends from Interpol would call here and there, with nothing more than sad news.

Hank Voight was pulling out every contact from his little notebook, but not even they could solve your years long case.

You wanted to throw up.

"Hey Kev."

"What's up?"

"You still friends with that FBI agent?"

***

"Second floor clear," The grip on your radio loosened after the second you needed to inform your team about your situation had passed and you moved on upstairs. You could hear them respond in the same matter as you held your gun with both hands and carefully climbed up the stairs.

You didn't let a sound slip your lips as you trekked the stairs up to the very last floor, save for the attic. For a drug house, everything was eerily quiet. It didn't feel like someone left in a hasty hurry.

It felt like as though there was no one there in the first place.

Your need to report that to your Sergeant faded away quickly once you saw smoke. It seized your full attention within a few seconds.

Smoke grenade was your first guess. Nasty things but nothing new.

That was, until you took several steps closer and the smell of the source journeyed through your nostrils. It clicked in your head immediately. Three years of being a squad lieutenant's girlfriend can do that to you. The scent of fire is nauseating and sweet, putrid and steaky, or something like leather being tanned over a flame. The smell of it can be so thick and rich that it's almost a taste. Kelly's words rung in your head, and you pulled your radio to your mouth.

"Call CFD! There's a fire on the third floor!" You informed, shielding your eyes. "Stand down! I repeat –"

Things went black after those words.

***

"We have a detective trapped on the third floor," Voight informed the first responders. "That's where the fire started."

Wallace nodded, "Squad 3, take the third floor."

Unlike Wallace, who had found his source of information in Voight, Kelly Severide had found it in Jay, who stood on the street visibly stressed. "Jay where's Y/N?"

Jay frowned, "She went to scope ahead. She was on the third floor when the whole place just blew up…"

"She could be unconscious right now," Kelly muttered. "Squad 3 let's go!"

Kelly Severide was already in the burning building when Chief Boden found out just who was trapped upstairs. "Dammit."

***

"Y/N?!"

Kelly's patience was thinning by the second. Knowing that his time is limited and that the place could blow in a stronger matter at any moment, he paced toward your unconscious body expeditiously.

Noticing the angry streak of blood that came from your nose had his heart in his throat. You were twisted in a way not normal for a human body to be in, catching him off guard the moment he laid his eyes on you.

Despite all that, Kelly still swooped in to grasp your limp body in his arms.

The stress of the last few days he went through didn't come close to a match with this very moment. "I'm coming down chief!"

For a moment Wallace wanted to bark back, but he bit his tongue. Love makes people do crazy things.

He knew that better than anyone.

"Get the hoses ready!" Boden announced and turned to the Intelligence.

"She'll be okay."

***

You were okay.

Maybe even better than you thought possible.

"Kelly wake up."

You smiled cheekily at doctor Mannig, who stood by your hospital bed, waiting for Kelly to wake up with the same thin line of patience as you.

You woke him up with a slap to his shoulder.

Natalie was beaming, her eyes sparkled despite the fact that she was the doctor to the most heavily guarded patient in the whole city of Chicago. "I think congratulations are in order."

"What do you mean?"

She winked before handing you the tablet, "You're 11 weeks along Y/N. Congratulations you two."

You shook your head wildly and pressed a palm to your mouth, acting out what your defense mechanism wanted you to do. "Oh God…"

"Really?" Kelly asked next to you. He had already grabbed your hand and gripped it tightly, holding you to the ground of your new reality. "Are you for real?"

She nodded, "The tests don't lie. I'm so happy for you two."

Natalie hugged you both closely before disappearing back into the crowded ER.

"Hey," Kelly murmured, grasping your chin with his index finger and thumb. "What's wrong? You're not happy? I thought…"

You shook your head immediately, stopping him from saying something that was untrue. "No, Kelly… I'm really happy."

Two heartbeats within one body. Your body.

A child that was going to take after you and the man you loved most in this world…

You felt so incredibly lucky at that moment.

Yet so guilty.

"Our baby could've died today…"

Fresh onset of tears attacked your eyes, pushing through until the moisture was dripping down your face, and you tried to muffle the hiccups with your hands. Everything started to make sense.

"Baby you didn't know…" He tried to calm you.

You shook your head violently, dropping his attempts into the water. "I should've known better. We didn't use protection... Then I felt so sick last week."

"Y/N-"

"But I was so obsessed with Parker Torres that-" You couldn't even finish the sentence because the guilt turned into anger. "God I'm so stupid!"

"Babe, look at me," Kelly's voice hardened yet the hands with which he cupped your face were gentle and comforting. "You didn't know, so none of this is your fault. If you knowingly went in there that's when it would have been your fault."

He kissed your tears away and gave you the softest smile ever. "Do you want to have this baby with me? Because if you don't, we can…"

You stopped him with a kiss.

You were venerable in the moment of the kiss, yet you never felt more at home. In this kiss is the promise of years of love and the sweetness of life. No one mattered at that moment. Not Parker… Not anyone. Only you two and the vow you just shared.

The next few weeks will be hard, that much you knew. You were introduced to a new reality and priorities shifted. The hunt for your skeleton will continue in the hands of the people you trust most and as months go by the light will greet the darkness of your tunnel.

But the next few years, you see nothing but light and happiness.

No skeletons to torture your life, but a baby and a soulmate to make it better.

TAGS (all posts): @fofisstilinski @short-potato @miranda0102 @httphiddlestan @caromichaela @xx-missunicorn-xx @jemmakates @lorenakaspersen @scarletsoldierrr @theravenclawmarauder @httphiddlestan @tclaerh @chefdoeuvre

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MASTERLIST

#Kelly Severide #kelly severide imagine #kelly severide fanfiction #kelly severide x reader #kelly severide masterlist #Chicago Fire #chicago fire fanfiction #chicago fire imagine #chicago fire fanfictio #Chicago PD #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd fanfiction #chicago pd x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

Text

One Night🌙8

Warnings: noncon sexual acts (fingering)

This is dark!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: One night changes your entire life.

for @kittykatlow‘s 200 Follower Celebration

Note: Alright, We’ve got more Andy! And hopefully i can get some more writing done.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You stepped into the cafe, the familiar smell of espresso and chai filled your nostrils. Andy caught the door behind you and let the bells jingle as it closed. You glanced back at him and he smiled. You shook your head and he sat at the round table for two that peered out the marquee window. You sighed and continued across the coffee shop.

You lifted the door as you slipped behind the counter, Taylor gave you a dark look as you headed for the back room. Your manager, Rachel was placing pans onto racks as the ovens glowed warmly behind her. She stopped as she took a breath and flinched in surprise.

“Hey,” She closed the oven and fixed her hairnet. “It’s your day off.”

“Yeah,” You said glumly. “Um, I know you’re busy but… I figured it was better to come in than do this over the phone.”

“Do what?” She blinked.

“Um, well, I spent Friday night at the hospital. I’m well but the doctor has recommended that I avoid stress, namely he advised that I take a leave of absence from this job until I am… better.” You hesitated. “But I don’t want to put you in a worse spot than I already am. I can finish out the rest of the schedule but I wouldn’t be able to do any lifting and… I am quitting. Seeing as I’m not even done probation, I figured it’s easiest for both of us.”

“Oh,” She sniffed. “Are you… alright?”

“Yeah, it’s… a long story,” You said. “So, I can still come in. Work cash. Until the next pay cycle. If that’s okay with you?”

“Of course, yeah,” She looked disappointed. “Sad to see you go, either way. Thanks at least, for the consideration.”

“I’m real sorry.”

“Ah, don’t be,” She grinned. “Most of the employees are students. Half the time, the schedule means nothing.”

“Alright, well, thanks,” You backed up towards the door. “I’ll see you… tomorrow.”

“Yep,” She turned and rolled the rack back. “If Taylor’s not busy, can you get her to come get the muffins on your way out?”

“Sure,” You nodded and left her to her work.

Taylor was with a customer and you figured even if you told her, she wouldn’t listen anyway. You stepped out from behind the counter and Andy stood as you neared.

“Coffee smells good. Want a decaf?”

“No,” You ignored him for the door and he hurried to follow after you.

“So, you quit?” He asked as he caught up.

“Yeah, end of the week and I’m done,” You muttered. “Happy?”

“No, not really,” His hand went to the small of your back as you neared the car. “I will be when you’re home, healthy, relaxing.”

“Andy…” You stopped suddenly as he reached for the car door. He looked at you, his blue eyes stormy. You forced down what you wanted to say and shrugged. “I’m tired.”

You turned and he opened the door. You slumped into the seat and buckled your belt. He shut the door softly and rounded the front of the car. You peered out at the side mirror and stared at the cafe sign. What was one more loss?

🌙

Back at the house, you retreated to the guest room. The door was broken and so you propped it shut with the tote you’d packed on that chaotic night. You read for a while but couldn’t focus. You gave up and sighed as you neared the door.

Andy was gone. He had work and you were grateful at least for the respite. You went downstairs and on the large flat screen across from the couch. It had rarely been used since your arrival. Andy always seemed to be poring over files or some magazine, if not fretting over every single move you made.

You found Netflix among the apps and it was already signed into Andy’s account. You didn’t take him for the type but you supposed everyone needed a bit of mindless bingeing. His feed was filled with documentaries and gritty dramas. You spread out across the couch as you turned on an all sitcom and set the remote on the side table.

Your back had been achy all day and you felt terribly bloated. Maybe that wasn’t bloating. You propped your head up on a cushion and looked down at your stomach. You were starting to show. You were starting to feel it. Your breasts were tender, a little bit bigger even. You turned on your side and tried not to think of how helpless you felt.

You stared at the screen and barely paid attention to the twenty-minute plots. You’d seen it all before. You yawned and tucked your hand under the cushion as you bent your legs and sank into the couch further. It wasn’t long before you were asleep, lost in the chaos of your worries, waking and otherwise.

You woke up to your name, called softly from above you. You turned onto your back and opened your eyes lazily. Andy leaned on the back of the couch as he watched you. You blinked and looked at the dulled screen of the television; ‘Are you still watching?’ You glanced back at him as he said your name again.

“You okay?” He asked and you slowly sat up. He pushed himself away from the couch and came around, placing his briefcase in the arm chair.

“Yeah, I must’ve dozed off,” You grabbed the remote and turned off the television. “I’ll go upstairs and--”

“Stay.” He grabbed your shoulder and kept you from standing as you dropped your legs over the edge of the couch. “I’m going to make dinner. I just wanted to know what you wanted.”

You squinted at him and sat back with a shrug. You didn’t have the energy to argue with him. “Up to you.”

“You sure you’re alright?” He asked.

“You sure you are?” You countered.

He clicked his tongue and exhaled loudly. “Yeah. You know, I can be an asshole but I’m not inherently one.”

“Sure.” You flicked the tv back on. “You don’t have to make dinner--”

“I want to.” He said. “You need to relax. That’s your job. Mine is to make sure you do just that.”

He sat beside you as you pressed play and put the remote down. You avoided looking at him as you leaned forward anxiously.

“How are you feeling?” He shifted closer. “In the book, it said you might be having back pain; hip pain? How’s your nausea?”

You grimaced at him and shook your head. “You don’t need to worry that much, Andy. Really. I feel fine.”

“You were in the hospital only days ago. I need to worry,” He reached over and touched the small of your back. “You need to let me worry. Let me help.”

He curled his fingers under the bottom of your tee shirt and caressed your skin. You tried to shimmy away and he caught your hip.

“Come on. Just a back rub.” He urged. “It’ll help with the tension and the pain.”

“I’m fine.” You insisted as you crossed your arm.

“You gotta start working with me,” He huffed. “I’m just doing what the doctor told me to.”

“I’ll just get a heating pad.” You edged forward on the couch, ready to retreat to the guest room.

“No,” He caught your elbow as you tried to stand. “Here,” He slid back on the couch and spread his legs. “Sit. Humour me.”

You bit your tongue and shook his hand away from your arm. You stood and inched in front of him. You sat tentatively on the edge of the couch and he grabbed your waist as he pulled you closer. You went rigid and he squeezed just slightly.

“Give a little,” He muttered. You hung your head as his hands glided up the back of your arms and settled on your shoulders. “Let me know if I’m too rough… I haven’t done this in a while.”

He began to knead, gently. He ran his thumb up your neck and sent a shiver along your spine. It felt good despite your reluctance. You let out a quiet moan. You clamped your lips shut and his hands pressed more firmly. You gripped your knees as you eased into his touch.

He got further down and you found it harder not to make noise. He continued to massage you as you leaned back without thinking. You hummed and your hand went to his knee. He lifted the hem of your shirt and began to knead your flesh, his fingertips pushing into your hips.

“See, not that bad,” He said as his hot breath tickled your scalp.

“No…” You let out a crackly whisper.

His right hand slid around your front and spread over your stomach. His other trailed up your back and he traced the line of your shoulder blade with his thumb.

“Andy,” You touched his hand as he held your stomach.

He was quiet for a moment and he hugged you to him as he snaked his other arm around you and felt your small bump with both hands.

“You’re starting to show,” He purred.

“I’m bloated,” You wriggled against him as heat pricked at your skin.

“Mmm,” He nuzzled your hair and slowly bent over you. “Mine. My baby.”

“Andy,” You grasped his wrist. “Let me go.”

He didn’t as he buried his head in your neck and his lips grazed your skin. You trembled as he dragged his fingertips along the top of your pants and he picked at the elastic waist of your weathered sweats. His other hand stayed on your stomach as he kissed your neck.

“Stop.” You caught his hand and he brushed you away, slipping beneath the elastic of your pants and past your panties. “Andy--”

His other hand left your bump and he let your shirt fall. He covered your mouth as he pulled you closer. He smothered you with his palm and your eyes rounded as he spread your cunt with two fingers and flicked his middle finger over your clit. You whimpered into his hand as he did it again, sending sparks along your thighs.

“Relax,” He growled. “Just… relax.”

He rubbed you firmly with his finger and you grabbed his knees as a tide rolled over you. His finger glided down your folds, already wet, and he poked inside of you as the heel of his hand pressed against your bud. His cologne sank into your nostrils as you breathed heavily into his hands.

You arched your back as he pushed another finger into you and curled them. His teeth nipped at your neck and you shook as the pressure built at the crux of his touch. He moved his fingers in and out of you, dragging them against your wall and adding to the whirlwind.

He rocked his whole hand as he squeezed and pressed down on that sacred spot inside. You gulped and pushed your head back against his shoulder. His palm slid from your lips and he hooked his fingers in the collar of your shirt.

Your thighs clenched his hand as you spasmed and writhed hungrily in his embrace. Your eyes rolled back and closed. Your dusky moans floated in the air and peaked in a squeal as you came. He slowed as you succumbed to your orgasm.

He sat back with you against him. He drew his fingers out of you and rested his hand over your vee, a cloud of warmth trapped beneath it. You gulped and your head lolled along his shoulder.

He shifted behind you and you felt his bulge against you. He let out a groan and inhaled deeply.

“Are you relaxed now?” He leaned his head against yours.

Your lashes fluttered as your mind cleared. You shakily reached down and tore his hand from your sweats. You stood, dizzily, and turned on him. You adjusted the elastic waist of your pants and stumbled backwards as he sat forward. He brought his fingers to his lips and licked them with a purr.

“Why the fuck did you do that?” You hissed.

“You liked it.” He said bluntly.

“That… doesn’t matter. I told you--” You stepped back as he stood. “Andy.”

“Don’t work yourself up.” He lunged at you and grabbed your arm. “I’m only doing what the doctor recommended.”

“Get off of me.” You tried to rip your arm away as he angled you back to the couch.

“Lay down,” He gritted through his teeth. “Now.”

“Andy!”

He slapped your ass and shoved you against the sofa. You fell onto the cushions on your knees and turned to look back at him. He crossed his arms and tilted his head.

“I want you to sit down and watch some tv as I go cook our dinner.” He said firmly. “And then we will sit together, nicely, and eat.” He raised his eyebrows dangerously. “Like a good mommy and daddy.”

You winced and gaped at him. You nodded slowly and he dropped his hands as he shook his head. He backed away and shrugged out of his stiff jacket and slung it over his bag on the chair. He spun back to you as he loosened his tie.

“Grilled chicken?” He asked. Your eyes followed his left hand as he quickly stuffed it in his pocket. “Sound okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You answered numbly, not entirely sure of what he’d asked you.

He nodded and left you. You listened to his leather shoes as they met the tile of the kitchen floor and cupboards opened and shut noisily. You ran your fingers along your cheek and leaned your head back to stare at the ceiling.

Andy wasn’t wearing his ring. For the first time since you’d met him. When you met him at the bar, you’d been too drunk to notice but he’d never been without it. When he was thinking, he often turned it on his finger with his thumb. But it was gone and that felt… wrong.

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #fic #series #dark andy barber x reader #dark!andy barber x reader #andy barber x reader #one night #dark fic #dark!fic #defending jacob

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mylifeisactuallyamess · 3 years ago

Text

General Hux x Female Reader/Kylo Ren x Female Reader

A/N: I have been in a world of writers block and my brain decided nothing I’ve been writing is any good 😬 but I’m hoping I’m over that now. I better be.

Warnings: mention of interrogation, RC is bound, some gore mention, imprisonment and a brief mention not many people would get unless they’ve read Bloodline or done some research into Leia.

Word Count: 4489

Masterlist

Read Chapter 18 here on AO3.

The white rushing lights did nothing to calm you, the pilot wouldn’t speak and you had no idea where you were going. Removing the helmet and dumping it at your feet, you sobbed silently, replaying the look on your husband's face over and over again. The way he stumbled, falling to the floor his eyes wide as the enormity of what he’d done came crashing down on him.

On one hand you wanted him to suffer, to feel the heartbreak of your loss and on the other you wanted to reassure him. But there had been no time, you had no idea Kylo was going to save you. He risked everything to send you to the ends of the Galaxy, to get you away from your sentence but you didn’t understand why? He just condoned the use of a new weapon on your home planet, in front of you taking and destroying everything you’d ever loved. To replace it with your freedom?

But you were alive, the shock of it numbed you knowing that you shouldn’t be here, you should be in the trash compactor instead of that poor trooper. You finally cried yourself into exhaustion dozing off in your seat but you had no idea for how long before the ship dropped out of hyperspace, jolting you back awake.

You could see a lush planet, the TIE glided into the atmosphere, all you could see were trees, massive trunks and wide leaves spanning the distance below you, but no buildings.

Proximity alarms exploded all round you, shattering the quiet and making your heart almost leap out of your chest. The gun controls lit up and you hesitantly put your hands on them, you had no idea how they worked or what you were even shooting at. You were terrified, the screaming whine of the alarms split your mind in two and you desperately wished you were anywhere else. The ship jolted, dragging a soft scream from your constricted chest and you gripped onto your seat as the TIE began to spin. You closed your eyes not wanting to see the flash of blue and green as the whole ship spiralled towards its doom, wishing this ride would end soon or you were going to be sick.

Panic wound its way through your body making you hold your breath in the hope the pilot would regain control of the ship. Another blast made the control panel in your face explode and you screamed in pure fear, trying to shield yourself from the sparks and heat that threatened to burn you.

The TIE crashed, ploughing into the soft ground and gauging the earth as it carved a path through the large trees until finally rolling to a stop. The chassis ticked loudly, the durasteel cooling after the intense heat it had endured, the viewport had shattered over you, earth and flora had made its way into the cockpit and you tried to turn and check on the pilot but the harness trapped you. Fighting against your straps you began to sweat, the humidity of the planet creeping up on you in the clumsy trooper armour, it was almost too much but you knew you had to get out as the heat increased. The sound of flames licking their way towards you made you renew your efforts to escape, finally releasing the catch on your harness you managed to start climbing out. A hand grabbed the collar of your armour, hauling you with strength and throwing you onto the spongy ground. You coughed, struggling to catch a breath, squinting against the bright light as it filtered through the green leaves. The TIE exploded behind your saviour, making him a silhouette against the flames, his outfit ruffling in the heated breeze that rushed over you both. The barrel of the blaster rested on your breastplate and you cried out in fear.

“Don’t shoot!!” You managed to choke out.

“Why shouldn’t I?” You’d heard that voice before. It would forever be ingrained in your memory.

“Because you’re Commander Poe Dameron.”

A noise dragged his attention behind him, the pilot had managed to free himself from the wreckage before it exploded and was stumbling through the undergrowth. Poe moved to aim with his blaster.

“No wait!” You shouted. The pilot was severely injured, half his helmet had been blown away revealing burned skin and a bloodshot gaze, he was holding his arm and it could have been broken or dislocated. His red eye fixed on you.

“Did we reach our coordinates?” He rasped. You didn’t want to answer, you knew what was coming.

“Hey pal, you look pretty banged up there. How about you put your blaster down and we can get you some help?” Poe called out, his brow furrowed with deep lines.

“Did we…?” He coughed, his body shaking from the effort.

“Yes!” You sobbed loudly and watched with horror as the pilot reached for his blaster.

“Buddy! That’s not a good idea!” Shouted Poe raising his arm but he wasn’t quick enough, the pilot pulled his blaster free and shot himself. You screamed loudly, knowing that image was going to be stuck in your mind for a long time. Your body went limp, letting Poe drag you roughly, hauling you away from the death and destruction that seemed to follow you. Is this what the Galaxy was like? All death and endings? This war was ripping the very fabric of everything, so many lives lost and you blamed the Resistance. Your hurt had stemmed from their actions, their disregard for anything except themselves and their need to stop the Galaxy falling under the rule of the First Order. Your thoughts faded away as your mind tried to close itself off, you were in enemy hands now and Kylo had put you here.

You turned to see the door open and Commander Dameron strode in, he was looking at a datapad and holding a piece of bread that he was chewing on. His foot kicked the door and it closed behind him with a loud hiss. He settled himself opposite you, still not acknowledging you even when you moved, making your shackles clank loudly against the chair. You waited expectantly for him to say something, instead he took a large bite of the bread tutting when the crumbs littered his shirt. You watched in disbelief as he brushed himself down before picking up the datapad again, the screen reflecting in his eyes.

“Are these really necessary?” You asked, wincing at the loudness of your voice and noise of the chain links as they fed through the chair.

“Yep.”

“Oh, you do speak then.” To your annoyance he shrugged and flicked through the pad some more. “Are you going to interrogate me?” When he refused to answer you sat back and crossed your arms with a sigh. You should have known he was going to be insufferable from the gleeful tone and glint in his eye you’d seen previously. That holo-image from the datastick will forever be imprinted in your memory and it made you dislike him intensely. You watched as he shoved the last bit of bread in his mouth, trying to ignore the stabbing pains in your stomach not remembering the last time you ate or drank anything. You thought back to your last meal, the prisoner rations weren’t exactly mouthwatering, but you’d eat some right now.

Your expression fell as you recalled the way Armitage had sagged against the wall, his expression one of shock and your heart pounded wildly. You had nearly broken the cover that Kylo had gone to great lengths to provide, the need to rush to Hux had been overpowering even though he had just uttered those devastating words in your cell, telling you your life was about to end. You had convinced yourself he had no choice, he had been backed into a corner as much as you had, forced to make these decisions he shouldn’t have been making. You frowned again at the noise of the chains when you went to blot your eyes, the noise alerting Poe to your change of emotion and he studied you with interest.

“Are you hungry?” You looked at your hands in your lap not wanting to let him know you were absolutely starving but also not sure how much longer you could keep yourself upright if you didn’t eat. “I’ll get you something.” It wasn’t until he disappeared that you realised he’d left his datapad on the table. You sat up slightly, seeing there were no cameras, no two way mirrors, no droids, nothing to say anyone was watching you. The chains clinked when you reached for it, your fingertips brushing the corner but not even enough to move it, a growl of frustration left you and you tried again. The pain of the chains cutting into your wrist did nothing to dissuade you, but the sound of the door reopening made you slump back in your seat.

“Ten out of ten for effort.” He stated calmly, sliding a tray of bread, fruit and water in front of you.

You grimaced to yourself, shaking your head.

“That was a test.”

“If you like,” he replied nonchalantly. You looked at the food, your mouth watering and your stomach heaved at the sight of it wanting you to eat it but your pride made you not reach for it. Poe wasn’t watching you, his gaze once more looking at the datapad with curiosity and you found yourself wondering what he was looking at. Information on you? Reports on the destruction of Arkanis? Maybe they had a whole file on you and Hux and he was flicking through your wedding holographs. Did you even have holographs? You honestly couldn’t remember. You frowned as you realised they hadn’t even asked your name, after the incident with the pilot you had been dragged back here and that was it.

“Why am I still alive?” You blurted out.

“I do the questions around here,” he mumbled. His brow dragged down at something on the screen and he huffed with annoyance.

“Maybe you should try asking me some?” No response. You fidgeted, hating the way he was making you feel. Awareness prickled down your arms knowing this must be a Resistance approved technique for interrogation and you hated it. You felt exposed, vulnerable, completely at this man’s mercy as he paid you no mind and yet, you felt yourself wanting to get his attention.

“What?” You jumped at his loud exclamation of surprise, dread pooling in your belly, what he was looking at was clearly not good news. “You’re such a cheat Finn!” He snarled, slamming the pad down and rubbing his face. You watched the curls bounce back to his forehead after his fingers had left them trying to figure out what was happening. “Are you going to eat that?” He asked, dragging your attention back to the food. ”Fresh food doesn’t come to us often. Don’t waste it.”

“What did you do? Steal it from a First Order supply ship?” You were trying to be sarcastic, but the look he gave you told you everything you needed to know. “Oh, of course. It’s what you people do.” He cocked an eyebrow and rested his chin on his upturned hand, finally paying you the attention you seemed to want.

“You people?” He inquired. You shook your head, suddenly wishing he would stop staring at you with those rich brown eyes. “You should eat.” He stated forcefully and you found yourself complying. Your bound hand reached for the bread, taking a chunk off and carefully putting it into your mouth. You tried to hold back the tears at the taste, it was glorious, so fresh and soft it reminded you of eating in Armitage’s quarters, sharing food on the Finalizer…you looked up at the ceiling trying to stem the flow of more tears knowing that you were now being watched closely. “You ok?” Poe asked softly.

“Oh sure. I’m perfect,” gripping the bread tightly you ground your teeth together in an effort to contain what was bubbling up inside you but it was useless. “I was sentenced to death, my homeworld was blown up, my husband…my husband…” you swallowed. Trying to force the emotion away but it just came back up your throat with more force. “That poor pilot didn’t even know what hit him!” You sobbed, remembering that awful scene that no doubt was laying forgotten on the jungle floor. “And Kylo risked everything to get me out, Armitage’s face…oh Armitage!” The sobs were heavy on your chest, forcing their way out between your words. “And now I’m here, with you.” You finished with venom. Poe looked at you with a stony expression clearly not wanting to stop your flow of words. “You! You started this whole thing! Placing that datastick in my chest I had no idea what it was? How dare you! I didn’t do this! I am no spy! My allegiance is to the First Order!” You were shouting, your bound hands pointing aggressively at him across the table as your face twisted with hatred. “I will not answer your stupid non questions, I won’t play this game.”

“That’s ok,” he said calmly, picking up the datapad and smirking. “You already gave me most of what I wanted.”

“I hate you!” You screamed loudly, ripping your throat as he sauntered past you. “Let me out! Just kill me! Don’t leave me here alone!” Fresh sobs spilled over and the chains settled loudly as you slumped in your seat. A fit of rage made you swipe the tray off the table with a loud cry, the cup bouncing loudly and spilling its contents, the bread was thrown with force and it exploded against the far wall. You screamed again, pulling heavily on your chains until your body decided that was enough. “Please don’t leave me here alone,” you whispered.

You had no idea how long you were imprisoned for, but everyday Poe would come and sit in your small room. You lay on the bed, your back to him every time, refusing to speak or move and yet whenever he left, the door hissing closed behind him you found yourself turning, wishing he’d come back. When you were alone the feelings that filled you were the worst, the hatred at yourself, the loss of your planet, the grief at the end of your marriage. You had searched your room for anything sharp to end your suffering, to quiet the thoughts that shouted loudly into the silence of your mind but there was nothing.

You had fallen asleep in the corner of your room, probably sobbed yourself to sleep like you normally did but you didn’t have time to crawl into your bed before Poe was entering your makeshift prison. He paused, seeing you in a different position had thrown him slightly even though he covered the surprise well.

“Is the bed not good enough anymore?” He asked with a hint of amusement, placing your usual tray of food down but you already felt the barriers slipping back into place and you refused to acknowledge he’d said anything at all. Your gaze grew fuzzy and your eyes lost focus, mentally drawing yourself inwards so you wouldn’t have to deal with his chatter or hesitant questions. You heard him sigh as he sat down in his usual seat. “You can’t ignore me forever.” I can. “Would you like to play a game?” No. “There’s a version of Sabacc I can access, you can help me against Finn and Rey. I swear they cheat.”

Rey.

That name made you stir from your reverie.

Rey.

That jedi, the one who had scarred Kylo, killed Snoke, helped destroy Starkiller, obliterated the First Order fleet.

That Rey.

“Rey.” Poe paused when you spat her name. “I hope she knows the…trouble she caused us.” It was the most you’d spoken since that stint in the interrogation room, your voice was raspy from disuse and you found yourself getting up for the water. You were lost in memories that all blended together, the voices and sounds trickling through your mind but the finer details were smudged. Poe’s mouth was open, no longer containing the surprise he felt at the change in you.

“You caused us trouble too,” he countered and you looked up to give him a scathing glance. “Anyway, I have someone who wants to meet you.”

“Is it Rey? Because I might scratch her eyes out,” you spat. “Don’t forget my chains,” you snapped sarcastically, holding up your hands up waving them slightly. He moved, gathering his datapad and leather jacket.

“It’s not Rey. I’ll be back later.” He said in a rush before leaving the room. You grabbed the bread, chewing it quickly knowing that you were going to need your strength. The only other person who would want to talk to you would be someone you’d never met in person before but someone you knew. Yes, you’d like to talk to her.

You paced in your small space until you were exhausted, your body not used to the increased movement meant you tired quickly and you found yourself eating everything on the tray before Poe returned.

The hours all bled into one another until he entered with another tray and you grabbed it off him, eating whatever hot food this was not caring at the bland taste. You eyed him when he leaned his arms on the back of the chair, facing you. His leg spread either side of the chair in a relaxed position as he leaned forward. You took him in, really studied him like you were seeing him for the first time. He was well built, tanned, his curls an unruly mess on top of his head. He wore a white shirt, the collar upturned and the buttons undone allowing a glimpse at his chest, his leather trousers were tight and tucked into his boots. A blaster was strapped to his thigh, the holster sat low on his hips, his knee jigged slightly and you sighed between mouthfuls.

“Got something to say, Dameron?”

“Well I was appreciating you seem to have your appetite back and didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Just spit it out.” He spread his hands.

“Well, she would like to talk to you today if you’re up for it.” You put your fork down and took a sip of water as you thought over what he’d said. Clearing your throat slightly before pushing your now empty tray away.

“Let’s get this over with,” you said, holding out your wrists ready to be cuffed.

“You promise to behave?” He asked dryly.

“I’m sure if I misbehave I’ll get shot,” you retorted. He approached, wrapping the cuffs around your wrists and checking they weren’t too tight before clipping them shut.

“We’re not the First Order,” he replied softly. “You could have a place here.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you mumbled.

“I’m sure you’ll feel differently soon enough.” You followed him obediently, his hand firmly gripping your cuffs as he led you out of the room and you got to see the base properly for the first time.

It wasn’t what you expected at all, a CR90 Corvette class ship was settled in a huge cave, providing a sheltered hideout for the Resistance. Large power lines were fed from the ship to consoles that dotted the clear space near the grounded ship. As you looked curiously around you could see makeshift beds, all placed haphazardly along the vast cave wall, sectioned off to offer some sort of privacy. Some had workbenches and storage crates with the small beds and it hit you that this was all the Resistance had. Then why could you not defeat them?

They had been beaten down, the New Republic was gone so they lost their backing and the main bulk of their fleet, half of the Resistance had been wiped out at the Battle of Crait and yet here they were. Surviving like the bottom feeders of the Galaxy they were. It astounded you, maybe even awed you that they were still having some sort of sway in this war. Your lip curled as you followed Poe over the uneven ground, how could these people offer the Galaxy something better than the First Order? Surely they couldn’t, they could barely feed themselves resorting to stealing and sneaky tactics, how could they offer the Galaxy stability and equal standing?

You were led aboard the Corvette, ignoring the stares and whispers that followed you from the cavern. If Kylo refused to end the Resistance then you would try and open eyes this side of the battle. All you knew was the Galaxy was ripping apart and it was time to stop.

You let Poe manoeuvre you into a chair, the room was white and pristine containing two chairs and a table, he took your bindings off and you rubbed your wrists out of habit. The door opened behind you but you kept your eyes trained on the surface of the table not wanting to look upon the woman who had entered the room. You heard her dismiss Poe before settling in the vacant chair opposite you, the silence that followed was mutual, her dark eyes studied you as she leaned on the table, her hands clasped together. You let her scrutinise you, did she know?

“Are you just going to sit there Princess?” You asked softly, breaking the silence. Her posture straightened giving you the reaction you desired.

“It’s been a while since anyone used my royal title, I go by General now,” her voice was calm and steady when she spoke.

“I apologise it’s force of habit,” you confessed softly, now letting your eyes rise to settle on her. She looked tired, her face lined, her dark hair greying in its delicate Alderaan style. Her eyes were dark and familiar, but softer in their appearance than what you were used to looking at and realisation trickled gently down your spine. “I know who you are, Princess Organa but do you know who I am?”

“Lady Hux, married to General Armitage Hux of the First Order.”

“He got promoted to Grand Marshal…” you corrected her with a frown.

“And demoted back to General, albeit recently.” The news shocked you, making you realise that Kylo had indeed taken everything from you both.

“He promoted Pryde,” you whispered, noting Leia bowed her head in acknowledgment. You sneered in disgust, your heart pounding at the idea of Armitage having to answer to such a foul man. A man who was capable of terrible things with his bare hands. You tried to bring yourself back to your situation, you couldn’t help Hux now, only yourself. “Kylo knows where you are,” you stated.

“He has other battles to fight at the moment,” she commented like the news didn’t shock her.

“With your Jedi,” you spat. Leia’s dark eyes pierced you, her posture never faltering for a moment.

“I feel you don’t like me very much,” she observed and you wished you didn’t have to spell it out for her. You sucked in a breath, it was slightly exhilarating knowing something the great leader of the Resistance did not.

“Our families have history, but you probably paid no heed to the ripples your actions would have caused.”

“I am well aware of…”

“Are you?” You demanded cutting her words short. “My aunt was Carise Sindian.” You took a moment to enjoy the micro expressions that flew across Leia’s face, the realisation as she worked out the finer details of your statement. “You stripped her of her royal standing and so her family was ostracised, I was lucky to land the husband I did but, his father did know my father. Favour for a favour,” you looked back down at your hands. In your mind's eye you replayed the moment Arkanis was destroyed, the red light forever tormenting your nightmares. “None of that matters now,” you said softly.

“You are still a part of Arkanis. The part that lives.”

“I don’t want to be all that’s left.” This wasn’t how you wanted the conversation to go, you came into this with confidence but here you were fighting back tears, the thought of Arkanis was still raw and painful, a loss you were sure you’d never recover from. Leia leaned forward like she wanted to reach for you in comfort.

“I was there, watching when Alderaan was destroyed. I know the strength of the hurt you feel.”

“That is where our similarities end, Your Highness.” She withdrew, a blank mask falling across her face. “Do you think you can do it?” You asked, trying to distract yourself.

“Do what?” You smirked hoping it would cover the shine of tears in your eyes.

“Win. I saw your setup out there, hoping a few criminals and relics of the old days are enough to go against the might of the First Order.” She regarded you with a firm look as though you were a petulant child and it aggravated you.

”We are doing our best,” she replied.

“And what happens when you win? If you blow the First Order from the Galaxy what happens next?” You leaned forward, catching a glimpse of uncertainty in her eyes. You took her silence as her answer and continued. “So you don’t have a plan? The First Order has a plan, to offer aid, to control the crime and chaos that spreads across the Galaxy. To stop children starving in the streets, can you offer the Galaxy that, Leia?” Now she leaned forward an almost triumphant look on her face when she replied.

“What do these people get in return for such selfless acts? Military occupation. Enlisted into mining camps, the children pulled off the streets away from families to become stormtroopers…”

“Troopers with full bellies!” You shot back and she shook her head.

“How can you be so blind?” She snapped.

“I am not the one who’s blind! You refuse to see that the First Order wishes to bring equality to the Galaxy. Killing the rotten bureaucracy and petty politics!”

“They seek control! And with control comes corruption!” She almost shouted. “I have seen what power does to people. The Empire made the same promises that the First Order are and Palpatine didn’t follow through on any of them! He ruled with an iron fist taking more lives than he saved…” you stood. Rage at her words making you go against your better judgement.

“Kylo is not Palpatine!” You shouted, slamming your hand onto the table. Leia sat back slowly, an unreadable expression on her face.

“How can you be so sure?” She asked quietly, her eyes boring into yours in almost a challenge as though she had already made up her mind about the Supreme Leader.

“Because he saved me.”

#general hux x female reader #general hux x reader #Star Wars #echoes of the heart #armitage hux x female reader #armitage hux x you #general hux fanfiction #kylo ren x female reader #leia organa #poe dameron #general hux x you #armitage hux x reader #my writing #mylifeisactuallyamess #kylo ren x you #kylo ren x reader

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phantasticworks · 4 years ago

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If You Don’t Love Me, Pretend - Chapter Twenty-One

guess who's back? back again? Another chapter of this story! Sorry for the wait, I've been busy with mental breakdowns, school, work, and some family matters. Thank you so much for being patient and waiting for this story, I'm so grateful for the support! Also... thank you to those of you who voted for this fic in any of the phanfiction awards categories. I am still beyond surprised and grateful for the love you guys have given this story, so thank you for that <3 <3 I hope you enjoy the new chapter!

read on ao3

Words: 14.4k

Summary: A lazy Saturday takes an... unexpected turn.

TW: This chapter explains in some detail the abuse/neglect the children experienced. Please read with caution. (If you would like to skip this, it is unmarked, but it is in the scene with Hazel. There will be a note at the end explaining the part of that conversation relevant to the plot going forward.)

Warnings for this chapter: swearing, mentions of abuse/neglect

Dan’s awoken, as he seems to be constantly these days, by the sound of a phone. It takes him a couple sleep-drunk moments to recognize that it’s not his alarm, or even his phone. For once it’s Phil’s phone buzzing on his nightstand, and after it doesn’t automatically stop ringing, Dan realizes he needs to intervene.

“Phil,” he mumbles, shifting around and trying to gather his bearings with his eyes still shut. “Phil, phone.”

“Yeah,” Phil mumbles back, his voice somewhere above Dan’s head.

Flailing his arm out from underneath the duvet leads to Dan realizing that he’s snuggled against Phil’s chest, with the older man’s arms wrapped around him in a loose embrace. “Answer the phone,” Dan whines, getting more and more irritated at the sound.

“I can’t, you’re on my arm,” Phil complains.

Sure enough, Dan feels Phil’s arm wiggle underneath his shoulder. “Sorry,” he mumbles, rolling away enough for Phil to save his arm. As soon as he grabs the phone off the nightstand, he rolls onto his back to answer it, but holds his left arm out to Dan in invitation. Dan gladly takes the offer, crawling right back into Phil’s space and tucking his face against Phil’s neck.

“Stephanie, hi,” Phil greets, clearing his voice to try and sound more awake than what he clearly is.

Dan listens half-heartedly, his eyes drifting shut again as he waits for the call to end so they can both go back to sleep. That’s ripped right out of his grasp, though, as soon as he registers Phil’s side of the conversation.

“Again? Yeah. Okay, yeah. Tell him I’ll be there at nine. No, it’s alright, but just let him know I’ll be there soon.”

Dan whines at that. “Don’t go,” he pleads, his voice still thick with sleep. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“Shh,” Phil whispers. “Sorry, not you, Stephanie. I was talking to my fiancé.” Phil sends him a very unamused look as Dan continues to complain about it. “Right. I’ll be there in an hour, thank you.”

He hangs up with a sigh, and Dan unashamedly hooks his thigh over Phil’s hip. “Don’t leave,” he begs, voice whiny.

Phil laughs quietly, his hand patting Dan’s thigh gently over the duvet. “I have to, bub.”

“I wanted to cuddle,” Dan pouts, glaring up at him. He knows he’s being childish. Phil’s a grown man with a job and responsibilities, but he’s also quite a good cuddler, and Dan’s selfish sometimes.

Phil kisses his hair. “We’ll cuddle so much when I get home this evening, alright? Like, so much.”

“Fine,” Dan agrees glumly. He closes his eyes again, resting his head above Phil’s heart.

“You need to let me up,” Phil murmurs after a few minutes, his fingers carding gently through Dan’s hair.

“If I don’t let you up, you can’t leave,” Dan informs him, the idea mumbled against Phil’s shirt.

Phil snorts. “Good tactic.” He pets Dan’s hair some more, and even peppers it with some soft kisses. “I don’t actually want to go,” he says softly.

Dan turns his head just enough to kiss Phil’s chest. “I know.” They lay there quietly for a little longer, soaking up the warmth and affection. Eventually, Dan sighs. “Alright, whatever, leave me,” he says dramatically, slowly detaching his limbs from Phil’s body.

Phil laughs and presses a kiss to Dan’s forehead. “I’ll be back later, you know.”

“I know,” Dan mumbles. “But later is... you know. Stuff.” He tries to avoid looking at Phil, but the part of his brain that’s dumb and likes hurting him can’t help but squint up at him to gauge a reaction.

Phil’s face looks a little less happy, and instead there’s a shadow of nervousness. “Yeah,” he agrees quietly. “But good stuff, yeah?”

And Dan hadn’t really considered that yet. Part of him was just so afraid of being hurt or disappointed that it hadn’t let him consider an alternative, and the part that had... well, that was a very small part. “Yeah,” he says quietly, nuzzling against Phil’s chest.

Phil pats his lower back, just above the swell of his bum. “Alright, then. Let me get up.”

Dan does so begrudgingly, rolling out of his arms and onto his back with a frown. Phil rolls his eyes at him before handing him his pillow to cuddle as a substitute. It’s not nearly as good as the real thing but it will do, Dan decides as he snuggles into it. He manages to drift off to the quiet sounds of Phil rummaging around their room as he gets dressed, but he blinks awake when he feels a soft brush of lips against his cheek.

“Hm?” He hums when Phil mumbles something.

There’s a hand brushing his hair back, and a gentle laugh. “Go back to sleep, bub. I just wanted to say bye. I love you.”

Dan tries to be really awake, but he sort of just nods vaguely in Phil’s direction. “M’kay,” he mumbles. “Kiss?” He requests, the word falling out of his mouth before he can stop it.

Phil laughs, but a second later Dan feels a soft peck on his lips. “Bye, Dan. I’ll see you this evening, yeah?”

“Mhm. Okay,” Dan says, already dozing off once more.

~~~

Several hours later, Dan finds himself sitting at the kitchen table alone, enjoying a fresh cup of coffee as he watches the pigeons and waits for the kids to get out of bed. He’s texting Phil here and there, and he’s just sent off a photo of a particularly chunky pigeon when he hears the tell-tale sound of little feet puttering into the kitchen.

He smiles when Jaiden comes around the corner, rubbing his eyes sleepily with the back of his hand. “Good morning, bubby,” Dan says quietly.

“Morning, Daddy,” Jaiden replies with a yawn and a vague wave. He doesn’t even really look at Dan, instead heading straight for the balcony door, which he sticks his forehead to. Dan can’t help but cringe thinking about the smudges that he’ll have to clean later, but he doesn’t say a word. “Good morning, everyone,” Jaiden greets his pigeon friends politely. “Breakfast is soon. I love you.”

Dan listens with a grin as Jaiden talks to the pigeons softly, and eventually he turns around, coming back over to the table. “Did you sleep okay?” Dan asks him, sipping from his mug.

Jaiden nods, coming to a stop right next to Dan’s chair. He lifts his arms up, giving Dan the cutest, sleepiest pout. “Hug?” He inquires softly.

Dan’s heart melts. “Of course, bub,” he says with a smile, setting his mug down to wrap his arms around the little boy. When Jaiden gives no indication of letting go, Dan chuckles before gathering him up in his arms and situating him on his lap. Jaiden makes a happy noise as he snuggles into Dan’s chest, and as much as Dan’s enjoying this new display of affection, he worries. “You feeling okay?” Dan asks quietly, running a hand over Jaiden’s hair.

“Mhm,” Jaiden nods. “Just sleepy. Wanted a hug.”

Dan coos. He holds Jaiden closer to him, petting his back in long, gentle strokes to give him as much comfort as he can. “I’m always here to give hugs when you need them, alright?”

Jaiden nods against his chest. “M’kay,” he mumbles. He shifts a little, glancing over at Dan’s mug with a curious look to him. “Can I have some coffee?” He asks out of nowhere.

Dan snorts at the swift subject change and the lack of subtlety. “Um, absolutely not, no. Nice try, though.”

With a pout, Jaiden crosses his arms, blinking up at Dan like this is the most unfair thing in the world. “Just a tiny sip, Daddy? Like, a baby one?”

“I think you’re hyper enough as it is, kiddo,” Dan says, shaking his head.

Jaiden looks less than thrilled to hear this. “Dad would let me have some,” he suddenly says, a mischievous look on his face.

Dan can’t help but roll his eyes at the tactic. “I’m sure he would. Dad would also let you stay up until two in the morning watching anime, and that’s exactly why Dad doesn’t get to make all the rules.”

“But Daddy,” Jaiden whines.

“How about this, you can have a tiny, very tiny sip,” Dan relents. “On one condition,” he continues, holding his hand up when Jaiden nods excitedly. “You have to try a new vegetable this week, yeah?”

Jaiden’s nose crinkles, and he looks like he’s seriously considering saying no. Dan waits patiently, sort of hoping that’s exactly what he does, since giving coffee to a small child probably isn’t a great idea anyway. “Deal,” Jaiden announces with a shrug, immediately making grabby hands for the mug.

“Ah, let me hold it, let me hold it.” Dan takes the mug right out of his reach before carefully holding it closer. “It’s still pretty hot, so let me blow on it for a minute.”

Jaiden waits patiently until Dan decides it’s cool enough and carefully brings the mug closer to his face. “A tiny sip?” Jaiden asks, glancing up at him.

Dan nods. “Very tiny. Like barely a swallow, okay? And you can’t tell Dad or Mia or Levi- got it?”

It’s almost hysterical how excited the prospect of a secret makes Jaiden look then. “Okay!”

Dan’s careful as he holds the mug for Jaiden, tilting it just a little bit, just enough for him to get barely a teaspoon. As soon as he’s swallowed, Dan sets the mug down and studies his face for a reaction. Jaiden smacks his lips curiously before a slightly greenish tint colors his usually rosy cheeks. “Ew,” he complains, wiping at his tongue with the sleeve of his shirt.

“What?” Dan says innocently, trying to hide his smile. He knows exactly what it is- black coffee is disgusting until you’ve gotten used to it.

“It tastes like dirt!” Jaiden complains. “Why does it taste so bad, last time Dad-“ he freezes, glancing up at Dan with a guilty look.

Dan rolls his eyes. “Did Dad give you some coffee before?”

Jaiden nods sheepishly. “He let me have some sips of his Starbucks. And Mia, too.”

Dan splutters. “When was that?” He demands.

A thoughtful look crosses Jaiden’s face before he shrugs. “I dunno, before school started.”

With a sigh, Dan sits back in his chair, watching Jaiden follow, cuddling up against him once more. Dan smiles fondly at him, petting his hair gently. “Dad’s gonna be in so much trouble later,” Dan informs him.

“But... you gave me coffee too!” Jaiden protests.

“Just a sip!” Dan whines defensively.

“I’m telling Dad,” Jaiden decides easily.

Dan gapes at him. “You promised you wouldn’t!”

Jaiden blinks up at him with a grin. “I didn’t promise anything!”

“Oh, you little!” Dan laughs, cutting himself off as he tickles Jaiden’s sides, his laughter loud and bouncing off the walls of the kitchen. “Repent, repent!” Dan chants through laughter of his own.

Jaiden squeals, squirming in his lap as he tries to escape. “I’m sorry! I won’t- I won’t!”

Dan stops his attack, scooping Jaiden back up from where he’d been slipping off Dan’s thigh. “Good,” he smiles.

“Do I still have to try a new vegetable if I promise not to tell Dad?” Jaiden asks sweetly, an innocent little smirk on his face.

Dan squints at him. “Are you actually blackmailing me?” He asks, taken aback.

Jaiden shrugs, giggling. “Maybe,” he sings.

Rolling his eyes, Dan pats his back. “Alright, whatever. Tell Dad, if you want. He won’t be mad.”

Jaiden’s face falls. “So I still have to try a vegetable?” He sounds disappointed.

Dan cackles. “Yeah, bub, you’ve gotta try a new vegetable.”

Jaiden sulks at this, crossing his arms. “Fine,” he concedes. Dan knows he can’t stay mad for long, so he waits patiently for something to change. It doesn’t take long. “Can I have breakfast?”

Smiling, Dan gently coaxes Jaiden off his lap. “Of course you can, bub. What’ll it be? Cereal? Omelette? If Dad was here I’d have him make us some pancakes,” Dan muses as he makes his way around the kitchen, checking to see what breakfast ingredients they had on hand.

“Where is he?” Jaiden asks, looking around like he’s just noticed Phil’s absence.

“He got called into work,” Dan says with an apologetic smile.

“Oh,” Jaiden says, nodding knowingly. He seems to consider his options, then says, “I think I’ll have an omelette.”

“Good choice, little man,” Dan says, going to collect the ingredients from the fridge. “Hm... I really need to get some groceries today. Maybe Phil’ll stop by- Jaiden?” The slight raise in pitch is due to the empty kitchen he finds upon turning away from the fridge.

He discards the carton of eggs and the milk on the counter, abandoned in favor of making sure his child hasn’t just dropped off the face of the earth somehow. Making his way down the hall to the twins’ room, there’s quiet voices floating towards him and he begins to feel his worry waver. He’s just about to retreat back to the kitchen to start breakfast when he hears Phil’s voice. Confused, he steps closer and gently pushes the door open.

He’s not sure what he expected, but what he finds is Jaiden and Amelia huddled together on her bed, Dan’s phone held in Jaiden’s little hands. It takes a moment for Dan to register it, but when he hears Phil laugh, he realizes the noise is coming from his phone.

“Dan did what?” Phil asks, his voice lighthearted and amused.

“Yeah, what did I do?” Dan asks, crossing his arms as he leans against the door frame.

Amelia squeals in surprise, and Jaiden’s whole face goes a little pink and sheepish. “Hi, Daddy,” he says with a weak wave.

Dan settles him with an unimpressed look. “Hi. What’ve you got there?”

Jaiden turns the phone around with a little smile. “It’s just Dad.”

Phil looks to be in his office, and he’s got a sweet smile on his face as he waves to Dan. “Hi, baby.”

“Hi,” Dan says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “What did they tell you?”

Phil grins. “Why, Danny? Are you keeping any secrets from me?”

Dan splutters. “No,” he says defensively.

“Mhm,” Phil hums. “So, giving Jai coffee this morning doesn’t ring any bells?”

Dan’s face feels warm when he stalks forward and holds his hand out for his phone. Jaiden gently hands it to him, with a sheepish little grin, and Dan can’t help but roll his eyes fondly. Looking back at Phil, he shakes his head, affecting a stern voice when he says, “I don’t wanna hear it, bub. He told me all about the Starbucks you let him have months ago, and I think that trumps the little secret sip I let him have this morning.”

Phil’s clearly holding back a laugh as he says, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Dan gives him a blank look. “Jaiden told me about it.”

Phil shrugs. “You have no proof.”

Rolling his eyes, Dan turns to face the twins. “No more running off with my phone without telling me first, got it?”

Jaiden nods. “Am I in trouble?”

Dan smiles softly at him. “Of course not, bubby. How about both of you get dressed so we can get breakfast, and if you’re extra good we might go to the park later, okay?”

Amelia’s eyes light up and she’s quick to scramble off the bed. “Okay!”

Jaiden’s quick to follow suit, much to Dan’s amusement. When he’s sure they’re okay on their own to get ready for the day, Dan shuffles out of their room, pulling the door nearly shut behind him and sighing. He gives Phil his full attention now, offering him an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry about that, I know you’re busy at work, and I didn’t even know he had my phone until-“

“Dan,” Phil interrupts warmly. “It’s fine.” He’s got a genuine smile on his face, so Dan has no real reason not to believe him.

“Okay,” Dan says softly. He suddenly feels shy, with Phil looking at him like that, even through the screen. “How’s work?” He asks, flinging himself into a mindless conversation so he’s not thinking about the way his stomach flutters, knowing the conversation they need to have later.

“It’s alright,” Phil says with a shrug. “I had to deal with two cancellations on some minor guests and also fire someone, so, like, it could be better,” he says, voice going quieter as he slouches, almost like he’s ashamed to admit he’s having a bad day.

Dan makes some sort of soft, unintentional noise in his throat. “I’m sorry you’re having a shit day, bub.”

Phil shrugs. “S’okay.”

Propping the phone up so they can still see each other, Dan goes about grabbing a pan and the other things he needs to make omelettes. “I’m not, er, keeping you from doing something, am I?” He suddenly asks, turning to glance at the phone, feeling a flash of embarrassment at the way he’d just assumed Phil would be free to chat.

Phil’s got an odd sort of focus in his eyes as he studies Dan. “Not at all,” he says, his voice incredibly soft.

Dan feels better about launching into his version of the coffee story, defending his actions wholeheartedly while Phil snickers and makes disbelieving noises every time Dan insists he didn’t give him that much. Somehow the conversation shifts to a debate on which of the kids are more likely to keep a secret, and from which parent. Eventually they figure Levi’s more likely to keep something from Phil, while Amelia is more likely to keep something from Dan. They decide Jaiden is their Switzerland, and will probably just blurt anything out to either of them if he felt like he was in trouble.

From there the conversation shifts to the similarities they have with the kids, and Phil’s just explaining how Amelia’s more like him when Dan hears footsteps behind him. He glances over and smiles when he sees Levi, hair wild and unkempt, with shadows under his eyes. Something about his posture, and the way he doesn’t even look up at Dan, has his pleasant demeanor dropping, his concerned parent persona taking front stage.

“Levi, bubba, you okay?” Dan asks softly, momentarily forgetting about his conversation with Phil.

Levi glances at him and nods, waving him off with a vague motion. “Just tired,” he mumbles, nearly falling into a chair at the table and dropping his head in his hands like he can’t hold it up on his own. He squints past Dan, at the phone on the counter. “Hi, Phil,” he greets, tilting his head to offer a weak wave with one hand.

Phil looks as surprised as Dan feels at the acknowledgement of his presence, even via FaceTime. “Morning, kiddo. You feeling okay?”

Levi looks on the verge of saying yes, but something in him hesitates. Dan gives him a searching look, and he hopes it doesn’t come across as nosy. “I couldn’t really sleep last night,” he answers finally.

Dan waits for a moment to see if Levi is going to say anything more. When he doesn’t, Dan spares a look at his phone, where Phil seems to be at a loss for words as well. “Was it…” He changes course when Levi’s gaze flickers away. “Do you know why you couldn’t sleep?” Dan asks carefully, navigating some sort of mental minefield trying to say the right thing.

Levi shrugs, dropping his gaze to scratch a fingernail against the table. “Dunno,” he mumbles, closed off once more.

Unsure what else to do or say, Dan sends Phil a look. Luckily, via whatever weird mental symbiosis they share, Phil seems to get it. “Well, I should probably get back to work,” he says, subtly excusing himself from the conversation he realizes that Dan needs to have with Levi. “I’ll see you at home later, yeah?”

Dan nods, offering him a smile. “Yeah, course. Have fun at work. I hope your day gets better.”

Phil rolls his eyes. “Highly doubt it will, but thanks. Have fun at the park without me,” he says with a pout.

Dan laughs. “Play hooky and meet us there.”

“I could never,” Phil says, as if the very idea is shocking to him.

It’s Dan’s turn to roll his eyes then. “Of course not.” Phil gives him a grin, and Dan shakes his head fondly. “Love you. See you tonight.”

“Bye, Dan,” Phil offers him one last smile before the call drops. Dan spares a second to feel disappointed that Phil didn’t say he loved him back, and then he’s cursing himself for it, knowing better than to want more than what he can have. His mind unhelpfully reminds him of the topic of the discussion they’re meant to have later, which does approximately nothing to assuage his nerves.

Turning to Levi gives him a good excuse to push the thoughts away. “Sorry about that,” he says with a half-smile.

Levi shrugs. “S’fine.”

Dan flips the omelette he’s working on over, watching the way the steam rises up as he considers how to ask Levi about his sleep problem. Eventually, he settles on the most straightforward way. “Do you really not know why you had trouble sleeping last night? Or is it just something you don’t want to discuss with me?” He asks in the most gentle tone he can.

“I...” Levi starts. He pauses, like he’s trying to get his thoughts together. “I guess I had, like... like a bad dream.”

“A bad dream?” Dan says, keeping his voice gently inquisitive and really hoping it doesn’t sound like he’s just trying to pry.

Levi nods when Dan looks at him. “Yeah, like- like I’d fall asleep and have this nightmare and so I’d make myself wake up but then-“ the words are spilling out of him in a rush, and he pauses to take a deep breath. “Then I’d fall asleep again and it would just keep happening.”

Dan plates the omelette up quietly as he waits to see if Levi has more to say. When it’s clear that he doesn’t, Dan goes about pouring a glass of orange juice and grabbing a fork, setting the plate and cup down in front of Levi, much to his surprise. “You should eat some breakfast,” he says softly.

Levi sort of glances at the food, like he doesn’t trust it at first, but after a moment he grabs the fork and stabs at the omelette, so Dan turns to go make some more. It’s silent for a few minutes until Levi says, “It was about them.”

The words make Dan turn, flicking his eyes over at Levi with a frown. “Who?”

Levi stares at his food, his face a paler shade than it was before. ��My mum and dad.”

And he’s never really spoken about them, not to Dan. He’s not sure what to say to that, though. He’s not sure what he can say that won’t frighten Levi, won’t make him shut down again. All he can offer is a quiet, “I... I don’t know how horrible that must have been. But thank you for sharing that with me.”

Levi nods, looking away. “It was.” When Dan tilts his head in confusion, Levi shrugs. “Horrible. It was horrible.”

Dan’s chest feels tight and heavy. “Levi...”

He’s just about to step closer to comfort him when Levi looks up at him, the sudden eye contact startling him a bit. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“Oh,” Dan says, surprised enough that he nearly stumbles back. “I, um. That’s fine. We don’t have to.”

Levi nods, taking a sip of his orange juice. Dan waits for a few moments, plating another omelette before he says Levi’s name quietly. “Hm?”

“I know we say this all the time,” he starts gently. “But anytime you want to talk... about anything, ever...” he turns now, allows himself to look into those pained eyes, that’ve seen things Dan could only have nightmares about, and he forces his voice to be steady but gentle. “We’re here. Me and Phil, we’ll always listen, if you ever want to talk about things. I know we’re not... well, we aren’t your parents.” Levi flinches, imperceptibly, at that. Dan’s heart hurts. “But you’ll always have a family with us, yeah? Anything you need, you can- you can talk to us.”

His voice has gone tight and impossibly high by the time he’s finished, but he forces himself to be unwavering. He won’t let himself cry, not in front of the child he’s meant to be a strong parental figure for. Even despite telling himself that, though, he can feel how hot his eyes are, and forcing himself to blink to clear his vision doesn’t help.

Levi looks back at him for a long moment before nodding. “I know.”

Dan nods too, relieved that he managed to hold himself together and get his point across. “Good,” he says, clearing his throat. “Do you mind going to fetch your brother and sister? Their breakfast is done.”

Levi murmurs an agreement before turning to leave the kitchen, looking relieved to get a break. Dan doesn’t blame him, honestly. When you’re a teenager, the most uncomfortable thing is having an emotional conversation with an adult, especially one you aren’t close to. He can only imagine the discomfort Levi is feeling, and he makes a mental note to be a little more relaxed on him from now on rather than springing those kinds of conversations on him with no warning.

As he waits for the kids to come into the kitchen, Dan checks his phone. He finds a text from Phil and opens it a little bit eagerly. He grins stupidly the minute he reads it, and part of him wants to screenshot it while the other part wants to just tattoo it onto the back of his eyelids. It was sent a little less than ten minutes ago, probably right after their call ended.

Phil: Love u too btw

Phil: I didn’t mean to not say it back

Dan: Im sure u say that 2 all the boys

Phil: Nope just you bub ❤️

Dan grins for the rest of the morning.

~~~

A few hours later, Dan manages to get all the kids into the car to head out for some errands. Levi’s got his group therapy session, and Dan’s still trying to decide if he wants to get groceries before or after picking him up when the twins remind him he’d promised to take them to the park. He weighs his options there and eventually decides that going to the park first would probably be in his favor. They can’t be too hyper in the store if they’re both exhausted from playing.

With the day’s plan set, Dan drives Levi to his session, stalling on the side of the street until they’ve watched him walk inside. Amelia tells him she thinks that’s a bit creepy, while Jaiden disagrees, saying that he feels a bit like a spy, watching his brother from the barely tinted windows of Dan’s car.

When they finally reach the park, the twins are nearly vibrating with excited energy, and Dan’s almost already exhausted just seeing how excited they are. “Try not to run off where I can’t find you, okay?”

“Okay!” Amelia all but squeals as she races Jaiden to the curly slide.

Shaking his head fondly, Dan finds an empty spot on a bench near a mum with a pram, and he actively avoids making eye contact with her as he sits. He watches Amelia and Jaiden chase each other around for a bit, eventually pulling his phone out and snapping a photo to send to Phil. The response is nearly instant.

Phil: :((( I wish I was there!!!

Dan: i believe i remember asking u to join us and u said no

Phil: I’m at work!!

Dan: well, im at the park bub

Suddenly Dan’s phone is ringing. He glances over at the lady beside him, smiling apologetically and seriously hoping the noise doesn’t wake her baby. He scans the playground for the kids as he puts the phone up to his ear, smiling already. “What?” He says, biting back a smile.

“Don’t “what” me,” Phil says, his voice lilting up in playful annoyance. “I’m mad at you.”

“Yeah?” Dan snorts. “And what about, exactly?”

Phil makes a spluttering sound. “You- You’re at the park, without me!”

Dan smiles, partly at the childish tone in his voice, and partly at watching Amelia push Jaiden on the swings. “I mean, to be fair, I’m also at the park without Levi, but I think you’re a bit more upset about it than he’d be.”

Phil mumbles something under his breath, but it doesn’t sound actually mad, so Dan doesn’t ask for clarification. “Did he seem alright when you dropped him off?”

“Yeah, he was fine,” Dan says. He walks in a little circle, stopping once more to watch the twins as he contemplates sharing anything from his earlier conversation with Levi. “He said he had nightmares about his birth parents,” he says softly. He can’t just not talk about it, not when the wellbeing of their children is meant to be a joint effort.

“Oh, god,” Phil breathes. He sounds just as pained as Dan feels at the thought. “Did he say what they were about?”

Dan shakes his head, even if Phil can’t see him. “No. He didn’t really want to talk about it. He just told me that bit, and then he just… sort of shut down.” He tries to steady his shaky breathing.

“That’s… God, Dan, that’s horrible.” Phil seems to reconsider his words. “Not that he told you- I just meant, like… the dreams themselves. That’s awful.”

“And we can’t even do anything about it,” Dan nearly whispers, his gaze going a little blurry as he’s overcome with a striking feeling of inadequacy.

“Dan,” Phil murmurs. “We are doing something, babe. We’re trying to give him a better life, away from that. Even…” He takes a deep breath then, and Dan braces himself for what he knows is coming. “Even if it’s not for long.”

The thought makes Dan feel just as violently ill as it always does. It’s like missing a step on a staircase you’re creeping down in the dark- he should see it coming, but it takes his breath away every time, in the worst way. It takes Dan a moment of choking around the lump in his throat, but eventually he manages to swallow it down, making room in his mouth for the words he doesn’t want to say. “We need to talk when you get home.” His voice is nearly a whisper.

Phil doesn’t respond right away. When he does, he sounds older, more exhausted. “I know.”

Dan’s just about to make an excuse to hang up and get a grip on himself when he hears Jaiden calling for him. “Daddy!”

“Yeah, buddy?” Dan says, faking a smile like the actor he isn’t. Jaiden’s eyes look a little red around the rims, and Dan immediately crouches down to look at him closer, nearly forgetting that Phil’s on the other end of his phone, clueless as to what’s happening. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Jaiden nods, then shakes his head. “Those boys- they said- they said that-“ Jaiden’s hiccuping with almost every word, and Dan takes a moment to shush him gently.

“Take a deep breath, bub,” he instructs gently.

In his ear, he hears Phil’s incessant questions. “What’s wrong? Dan! Is he okay?”

“Phil, he- I don’t know. Give me a minute,” Dan mumbles into the phone. He gives Jaiden a soft smile when he tilts his head curiously. “It’s just Dad. Do you want to talk about it in private?” Jaiden seems to consider it, nodding sheepishly after a moment. “Alright, that’s fine. Give me just a minute, okay?” Standing up and guiding Jaiden over to an empty picnic table, Dan speaks quietly into the phone. “Babe, he’s fine, I think he just got into it with some boys on the playground. I’ll call you back in a bit, yeah? Let me talk to him and sort it out.”

“Okay,” Phil says, sounding relieved. “Tell him I love him, yeah? Please?”

Dan smiles down at Jaiden, his heart full of the best kind of warmth, for both of them. “Will do. I’ll ring you in a bit, yeah?”

“Alright. Love you.”

“Love you too,” Dan says, biting his bottom lip to keep his smile from widening. He ends the call before turning his full attention to Jaiden, who looks much calmer now that he’s had a few minutes to recover from whatever happened. Sitting down beside him, Dan nudges his knee against Jaiden’s playfully. “Wanna talk about it?” He asks gently.

Jaiden put his little arms around himself. Dan’s suddenly reminded that it’s actually a bit cold out, and honestly if they weren’t running around playing, they’d probably be whining to go home to get out of the cold. “Those boys told me to ask if I could play with them on the other side of the park,” he starts, gesturing vaguely to the playground area.

Dan nods, gaze flicking around until he spots Amelia on the swings, playing with a little girl who looks a little younger. “Well, I’m glad you came to ask me first. I’d prefer you didn’t go that far, though, since your sister is still over here.”

Jaiden looks down at his shoes, which he’s scuffing on the ground. “They said something else, too,” he says quietly.

“What’s that?” Dan asks cautiously, a little nervous by the tone of Jaiden’s voice.

“I pointed at you so they’d know who I was asking, and they told me you weren’t my dad, cause we don’t look alike.” Jaiden’s voice sounds so sad and despondent, Dan is suddenly very glad those children are out of his sight. He’s not above chastising someone else’s kids, or kicking another parent’s ass for their offspring’s behavior.

Something about Jaiden’s words dawns on him then, and he looks down at him, frowning. “Bubby… you know I’m not, like…”

Jaiden nods before he can even finish saying it. “I know.” He sighs, then, kicking the ground a little more harshly. “Just wish you were.”

Dan can’t help but wrap him up in a hug upon hearing that. “Jai…” His voice is thick and garbled. He clears his throat and tries again. “You and Mia may not biologically be my children, alright, but I love you both so much. And as far as I’m concerned, you guys are my kids, yeah?”

Jaiden sniffles, burying his face into Dan’s ribs. “What about Phil?” He mumbles.

Dan’s throat goes tight. “Of course,” he says hoarsely. “Phil loves you so much, bubby.”

It’s quiet for a moment, and then Jaiden leans away a little, looking up at Dan with watery eyes. “Will you and Phil always want to keep us?”

His heart aches. He hugs Jaiden closer, kissing the top of his head. A traitor tear escapes his eye, but he allows it, just this once. “Yeah, Jaiden. We’re always going to want to keep you. You’ll always be a part of our family.”

Jaiden stays cuddled to his side for a few minutes, but eventually he pulls away, wiping his face with his sleeve. He looks a little tired, but otherwise mostly back to normal. “Can I go play with Mia?”

Dan nods, kissing his forehead. “Sure, kiddo.” Jaiden slides off the seat and goes to rejoin his sister, but Dan doesn’t let him get far without saying his name quietly. When Jaiden turns to look at him, Dan smiles as earnestly as he can. “I love you, Jai-bird.”

Jaiden smiles at him. “Love you too, Daddy,” he says with a little wave. He’s off in a sprint then, racing towards his sister as if the last ten or so minutes never even happened. with a little more pep in his step, and Dan nearly bites through his bottom lip trying to keep his emotions in check.

It’s not like he hasn’t had this sort of overwhelming breakdown before in regards to the precarious nature of their situation with the kids. He’s had it several times, but always in the privacy of his own room, or at the very least his office at work. Feeling half a centimeter away from a breakdown in public is worlds away from that, and he finds himself digging his phone out of his pocket and scrolling through his contacts before he even realizes what, or who, he’s looking for.

When he hears the familiar sound of ringing as he waits for her to pick up, he holds his phone up to his ear, standing so he can pace while he talks. It doesn’t take long for an answer, thankfully.

“Hello, love. I was starting to wonder when I’d hear from you again,” his mum’s familiar voice fills the line.

Dan chokes a laugh. “Mum,” he says, trying to force himself not to cry.

“Dan? Is everything alright?” She asks, her voice going high when she realizes, undoubtedly, that everything is not alright.

“You were right,” Dan nearly gasps out. It’s hitting him, now, the extent of the realization he’s just had. It’s not just about the children, and about preemptively missing them. It’s about Phil. God, it always is, though, he thinks, nearly bitter at the thought.

“About what, dear? What is this about?”

Dan laughs bitterly. “I don’t know. All of it. Everything. I think I just realized what a mistake this all was.”

“What’s a mistake? Dan, love, you’re scaring me.” She sounds less calm than normal, like maybe she realizes how very not okay he is right now.

Pacing back and forth, Dan gestures wildly, even though she can’t see him. “All of it. The pretending to be with Phil, the fostering...” he takes a shuddering breath. “It was a mistake.”

His mum is quiet for a moment. When she speaks her voice is impossibly soft. “Surely you don’t mean that, love.”

Dan ducks his head, a flood of hot tears pouring from his eyes. “Yes,” he argues. He spares a glance to the swing set where the children are and his heart squeezes. “No,” he sighs, reluctantly. “I don’t know. It’s just... I know I’m going to have to give them up, they’ll leave eventually, and then Phil will leave me and- and-“

And that’s it, really, he thinks to himself. As much as he fears losing the children, he knows he could survive it, with Phil there. But he knows that if Phil were to leave... that’s something he might not survive. Not now.

“I don’t think I can live without him,” he whispers brokenly.

His mum makes a sad cooing noise. “Dan...”

“I love him,” he’s properly crying now. The words aren’t brand new, but the feeling of utter freedom he feels after saying them is an adrenaline rush like no other. “I’m in love with him. I probably always was,” Dan confesses, and the world keeps spinning around him like it always has, as if he didn’t just admit to something he’s spent ten years ignoring.

His mum sighs, and Dan doesn’t think he imagines the note of relief he hears in the sound. “Well not to be blunt, Daniel, but I already knew that.”

Dan’s mind is effectively blank. “You...”

“Love, a mother can always tell. Kath’s known even longer than I have.”

Dan stifles a choked noise. “You and Kath talk too much,” he mumbles petulantly.

His mum laughs, and even in the spiral he’s in, the sound makes his lips twitch in a shadow of a smile. “Well it sounds like you and Phil don’t talk enough.”

“Well that’s not- I mean, we do, but-“

“Exactly,” she says, sounding smug. “Now, assuming you already realize he feels the same way, you probably ought to have a chat with him, Daniel.” She makes it sound so easy. As if he can just stare Phil in the eyes and tell him he’s in love with him, as if that’s something you just do.

“I... I don’t know if I can do that,” he says finally, his chest hurting with the thought of being rejected.

It’s quiet for a bit. Dan hears some clinking and assumes his mum is probably making some tea. Suddenly he yearns for that, despite the fact that he’s never really felt close enough to her to enjoy the typical mother-son bonding activities. This conversation has given him some perspective on his mother that he didn’t previously have, in the best way.

Eventually, she sighs. “Well then it won’t get any better, will it?”

“What?” He asks, almost forgetting what the original conversation was.

“Well, you’re bloody miserable right now, aren’t you?” Before Dan can protest, she continues. “But that won’t change until you do something about it. You can’t expect your problems to just magically disappear without talking about them.”

Dan bristles. “He’s not a problem.”

He can hear the smile in her voice when she answers. “I never said he was, love. I just think the lack of communication is driving you both mad, especially since this is the first you’ve talked to me in weeks.”

Dan feels a bitter guilt in his chest at that. He hates that she’s right, but she is. “Mum, I’m sorry, really-“

“Oh, nonsense. Phil sends me photos of the kids every now and again, and Kath and I chat every week. I knew you were busy, it’s fine, bear.”

His heart warms at that. It’s ridiculous how much he loves that his and Phil’s lives are so intertwined that their mums are actually friends. He sighs as he thinks about why that is, how glaringly obvious his feelings for Phil have been from the start. “I think I’m going to tell him tonight,” he whispers, as if anyone else could hear.

He can hear the smile in his mum’s voice when she replies. “That’s lovely news, Dan.” There’s a wavering hesitation before she continues. “I’m proud of you.”

He’s not crying. “Thanks, Mum.”

“And I love you, no matter what happens, alright? And if that boy has a brain in his head, so does he.”

He’s definitely crying. “Alright, alright. I love you too. I’ll try to call more.”

“I’d appreciate it,” she says dryly. “Maybe a visit soon, yeah?”

Dan’s not sure he can promise her that, but he agrees anyway before ending the call. His heart is full and his thoughts are swimming in circles as he begins wandering around the park, idly looking for his children. It takes him a minute to realize he doesn’t see them, and as soon as he does, his entire mood shifts.

Smiling tightly at the mums on one of the benches, he circles around to where he saw them playing on the swings last. He’s going into full panic mode when he hears a familiar voice.

“Daddy!”

Dan spins around, ready for the relief of finding his child safe. That doesn’t happen. Instead he’s met with Amelia’s tear-streaked face, her legs running as fast as they can carry her as she screams for him.

“Mia! What’s wrong?” He asks frantically, dropping into a crouch to look at her.

“It’s- something’s wrong, Jai’s on the ground and-“ the minute she falls into his arms sobbing, Dan stands, cradling her as she tries to direct him to where Jaiden is.

The next minute or so is a blur for him. Some sort of panicked internal instinct kicks in and one minute he’s running and the next he’s dropping to his knees beside Jaiden’s shaking body. Jaiden’s eyes are full of tears as he gasps for breath, his body convulsing as he grips at his chest. Dan’s veins fill with ice as he grabs the child’s shoulders, wracking his brain trying to remember what little he knows of emergency medical procedures.

“It’s gonna be okay, buddy. Can you sit up for me?” Dan speaks quickly but gently as he props Jaiden into a sitting position, trying to help him gasp more breath in. Dan’s no expert but he vaguely remembers learning how to handle an assumed asthma attack, and right now this is all he knows to do.

Jaiden grips his hand tightly, crying between every strangled breath. “Hurts!”

Dan’s eyes sting. “I know, bubby.” He glances over at Amelia, wide-eyed and crying a foot or so away. “Mia, love, I need you to be a big girl for a second, okay?” She nods frantically. He stands as he talks, scooping Jaiden up in his arms. “We’ve got to take Jaiden to the car. I need you to stay really close to me, okay?”

“Okay,” she mumbles her agreement.

Dan nods, trying to hold Jaiden in an upright position to help his breathing. “Take deep breaths, bub. We’re going to get some help,” he talks gently and as calmly as he can as he makes his way to the car, Amelia hot on his heels.

He manages to keep his composure long enough to get both of them in the car and get himself behind the wheel. Jaiden is nearly sobbing in the backseat, his little hands balled into fists in his shirt, his breathing loud and raspy. Dan swallows the panic down, forcing himself to focus. There’s a couple of random people milling about near his car, having seen the whole ordeal, and Dan tries to avoid eye contact as he drives out of the lot, headed for A&E.

“Hey Siri,” Dan says, loud over the sound of the cries in the backseat. His phone chirps. “Call Phil.”

The line doesn’t ring long before it connects, and an amused voice answers. “Hi baby, miss me?”

Dan has no time for the way that makes him feel. “I need you to meet us at A&E,” he says, getting straight to the point.

Phil’s silent for all of three seconds. “What? What happened, are you okay? Dan-“

“I think Jaiden’s having an asthma attack,” Dan explains quickly. “I don’t know what to do, so I’m headed to hospital. I need you to get a car to pick Levi up and meet us there.”

“Of course, yeah,” Phil answers. He sounds frantic. “Dan, where- are you- is he-“

“Meet us at hospital, yeah?”

“Dan, yes, I’ll be there,” Phil’s voice sounds almost exasperated. Dan can hear some rustling and other noises in the background, and he knows Phil’s leaving work. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Dan says, trying not to burst into tears when he hears a particularly miserable cry from the back. “I love you.”

“Dan,” Phil sounds nearly breathless. “I love you too. Be safe.”

Dan ends the call without another word, glancing to the back every few seconds to see how Jaiden is. “Just hang on, buddy, we’re almost there. Take some deep breaths, okay. Everything’s gonna be fine.” He’s rambling at this point, but he knows that Jaiden is in no state to recognize the underlying panic just beneath the surface.

“Siri,” he calls again. “Call A&E.”

The phone takes a minute to process this request, and then it’s ringing shortly before a woman’s voice answers with the name of the institution and “how can I be of service?”

“Er- hi, I believe my son is having an asthma attack. I’m bringing him in but I wanted to call and let you know he needs to see a doctor immediately.”

The nurse makes a pitying sort of noise and Dan hears the clacking of a keyboard. “Yes sir, and what is your name?”

“Daniel Howell,” he replies, changing lanes to take the next turn. He thinks it’s a shortcut, but he might be a little delusional about that.

“And the boy’s?”

“Jaiden Young,” he informs her.

“Alright, I’ll collect more information when you arrive. Come straight in through the A&E doors and a nurse will be on standby to help.”

“Perfect, thank you.” He ends the call with a shuddering breath, trying to hang onto what’s left of his sanity until they get there. He glances back again and sees Jaiden, his face red and wet with tears, struggling against his seatbelt. “Hang on, Jaiden. We’re almost there. We’re almost there, and they’ll help you when we get there, yeah? Just... just take some deep breaths, it’ll be okay.”

He really doesn’t know who he thinks he’s fooling.

~~~

Getting checked in when they arrive to A&E is a blur. There’s a nurse waiting, just like the lady on the phone said there would be, but Dan’s reluctant to hand over his child to a stranger. They’ve got a wheelchair waiting, and the nurse is talking in a gentle tone, some of her soothing words directed to Jaiden and a few comments directed at Dan. He barely hears her. There’s a rushing sound in his ears, and he’s only snapped back into the reality of the situation when the nurse begins pushing the wheelchair away, off towards a set of double doors. Dan follows unthinkingly, only stopped by the sound of a raised voice.

“Sir, you can’t go back there.”

Dan turns to stare at the receptionist. “That’s my child, can I-”

She stands, shaking her head. He tries to stand his ground, but her words make him falter. “No sir, not until they’ve figured out what’s wrong. Please have a seat and we’ll let you know when you can see him,” she says, her voice firm but compassionate.

With no other options, Dan nods numbly, turning around to trudge towards some empty chairs near the door. Amelia is looking up at him with big eyes, and he offers her a small, reassuring smile. “C’mon, let’s go sit down for a bit, yeah?”

She nods, swiping at a tear as she reaches for his hand. As soon as he’s found a seat, he reaches for her. She allows herself to be scooped into his lap, wrapping her little arms around his neck with a sad noise. He closes his eyes, rubbing her back gently as he shushes her gently. “Shh, love. It’ll be alright. The doctors will fix Jaiden right up, yeah?” Amelia manages a nod, and they settle into a nervous silence as they wait for something to happen.

They don’t have to wait long. Dan’s expecting Phil to show up any minute, so he’s not really surprised when the doors open and his best friend rushes in, a panicked look on his face as he scans the room. He takes one look at Dan and something seems to settle in him, his shoulders losing some of the tension and his expression morphing into something like relief. Dan doesn’t even think to stop himself from standing, gently setting Amelia down as he takes a step towards Phil. Levi is hovering behind him, his face pale as his eyes go between Dan and Amelia.

“Dan,” Phil says, his voice tight.

Dan doesn’t need any more encouraging. He all but collapses into Phil’s arms, the tears he hadn’t allowed himself to shed pouring from his eyes in waves. Phil makes a choked sort of noise as he wraps his arms around Dan’s shoulders in a tight embrace. “Shh, Dan, it’s okay. He’s gonna be okay.” And Phil can’t know that, not really. Dan appreciates the sentiment, but his crying only subsides enough to give way to hiccups.

“He- it was like he couldn’t…” Dan swallows hard, pressing his wet face against Phil’s neck. “He couldn’t breathe, and I had no idea what to do and-”

“Breathe, Dan. Slow down,” Phil instructs, pulling away to force eye contact. “You’re going to work yourself into a panic attack. Just slow down, yeah?”

Dan nods, taking rattling breath after breath, trying to calm himself down. Phil’s hands come up to cup Dan’s neck, his thumb swiping up to his jaw in soothing motions. The staring should make Dan uncomfortable, probably, with how intense it is, but he doesn’t look away. Somehow it has the opposite effect for once, and staring into those eyes that he loves so much, he actually manages to calm down, if only slightly.

“There we go,” Phil says, voice incredibly soft. “You okay?” he whispers.

“Yeah,” Dan rasps out. He remembers then, that they’ve got company, and he forces himself to pull away. He pretends he doesn’t see the hurt on Phil’s face. “Did Phil tell you what happened, Levi?” Dan asks, moving to sit back down. He tugs Phil’s sleeve as he goes, a very obvious instruction for him to stay as close to Dan as possible.

Levi looks almost as panicked as Dan feels, but he sits on his other side, shrugging at the question. Levi watches Amelia crawl onto Phil’s lap before he answers. “He told me you were taking him to A&E because you thought he was having an asthma attack,” Levi says slowly.

Dan nods. He wants to spare him the details, so he chooses his words carefully. “They were playing and Amelia ran over to tell me something was wrong, and when I got over there he was having trouble breathing. I�� I’m not really sure what could have caused it.” The admission is bitter on his tongue.

Levi looks down at his shoes. “Where were you? Why weren’t you watching them?” He snaps, his voice quiet.

Dan’s breath catches.

“Levi,” Phil says in a warning tone.

“If you were watching them it might not have happened,” Levi all but hisses, his voice breaking twice before he spits the words out.

“That’s enough,” Phil says, his voice harder than Dan’s ever heard in his conversations with the children. Levi looks up in surprise. Phil’s face is stony, not batting an eye as he stares at the teenager. “That doesn’t help your brother, Levi. Dan didn’t make him have an asthma attack, so we’re not going to assign blame here, okay?”

Levi’s gaze flits back and forth between the two of them before his whole body seems to deflate and he nods tiredly. “Okay,” he murmurs, looking down at his shoes once more. He peeks up at Dan, shrugging one shoulder. “I’m sorry, Dan,” he says quietly.

Dan can only offer a shaky smile. “It’s okay,” he replies automatically. He reminds himself that Levi can’t help how he reacted to the news, and that placing blame is a reasonable reaction for someone of his age, especially in this situation. He reminds himself of this two or three times to be sure, so that he doesn’t accidentally do something stupid, like cry in front of him.

Phil’s hand suddenly drops to his knee, squeezing gently, startling Dan out of his thoughts. “I’m going to go ask the receptionist what sort of papers we need to fill out. Would you call Hazel and tell her about all this? I’m assuming this is the kind of thing caseworkers need to know.”

Dan nods. “Yeah, course,” he agrees, going to dig his phone out of his pocket. Phil offers a little smile, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Dan’s temple. Dan watches him stand, Amelia tagging along with him for the walk over to the receptionist desk.

He’s just about to hit call on Hazel’s name when Levi nudges his arm with his elbow. Dan glances at him with a curious look. Levi substitutes eye contact for gazing out the window past Dan’s head, swallowing hard before he speaks. “I really am sorry,” he says quickly, like he hates the words. “I’m just… I guess I’m scared.”

Dan’s heart melts a little. “I know. I am too, Levi,” he reminds gently.

Levi glances right at him then, and Dan notices the glassiness of his eyes. Oh. “I… I can’t let anything happen to them,” he whispers, dropping his gaze.

Risking an affectionate gesture, Dan reaches out, patting Levi’s back gently. He’s shocked when the precariously put-together expression on Levi’s face crumbles suddenly, an ocean of tears falling from his eyes. “Levi…” Dan says softly, trying his best to navigate the correct way to be comforting in this situation.

It turns out he doesn’t have to wonder for long. Levi does the previously unthinkable, leaning forward and dropping his forehead against Dan’s shoulder as he sobs and allows himself to be hugged. Dan can’t help but cry a little as well, and that’s how Phil finds them a few minutes later. There’s a surprise on his face that Dan feels in his heart, but it morphs into something like relieved affection when Levi begins to control his breathing a little.

“It’s alright, bubby. Jai’s gonna be fine, yeah? Everyone’s fine,” Dan says soothingly, rubbing Levi’s shoulder gently.

Phil and Amelia quietly move to sit on Dan’s other side like before, but Levi must notice their presence, because he stiffens suddenly, pulling away slowly and wiping at his eyes. Dan offers him a sympathetic smile. “Sorry,” Levi mumbles, rubbing harshly at his eyes with the sleeves of his sweater. He gestures at his face vaguely with a shrug. “I don’t usually…”

Dan shakes his head. “You don’t have to be sorry, Levi. Everyone cries. I cry all the time, just ask Phil.”

Phil pets Dan’s hair. “It’s true,” he says, voice light and amused.

Levi offers a weak smile before looking back at his shoes. “Er… thanks, I guess.”

Dan feels his heart swell. “Of course,” he says gently. He feels a nudge against his elbow and he turns to look at Phil, who’s got a curious look on his face.

“Did you ring Hazel?” He asks.

Sheepishly, Dan picks up his phone, still hovering over her contact info when he unlocks it. “I’ll do that,” he says with a nod. Phil smiles at him gratefully, shifting a sleepy-looking Amelia on his lap as Dan focuses on what to say to Hazel when she answers.

The phone call doesn’t last long, much to Dan’s surprise. He explains briefly what happened and she tells him she’ll meet them there within an hour. She doesn’t ask many questions, and before she ends the call she thanks him for ringing her to inform her about it. Dan’s just repeating their conversation back to Phil when he hears his name called from the door where Jaiden disappeared through earlier.

“That’s me,” Dan says, standing and making his way over to her.

“You’re Jaiden Young’s father, right?” She asks, checking the clipboard in her hand.

Dan nods, trying not to fidget nervously. “His foster father, yes.”

She smiles at him. She seems kind, he thinks absently. “He’s stable now, so you’re welcome back to see him if you’d like.”

“Perfect!” Dan says, unable to mask his excitement. He turns to find Phil hovering a few feet away, like he feels awkward about being near Dan. “We can see him,” he says, voice washed with relief.

Phil’s just about to speak when the nurse interrupts. “It’s immediate family only, actually,” she says, her tone apologetic.

Dan blinks at her. Before he has a chance to speak, Phil snorts. “Well, he’s my fiance. I think that’s about as immediate as it gets.” The nurse looks a little abashed, and Dan can’t help but smirk a little. “Can we see our son now?”

She doesn’t argue, nodding quickly and gesturing to the doors. Dan glances over to the seats where Levi and Amelia are sitting, watching them with wide, impatient looks. “Those are his siblings, may they come back as well?” Dan asks, overly polite on purpose.

The nurse glances at them and nods. “It’ll have to be a quick visit before we move him to a different room.”

Dan and Phil share a glance and wordlessly, Phil heads over to the kids to bring them along, while Dan focuses on that bit of information. “Does that mean he has to stay?”

She looks apologetic. “Just for a few hours. The doctor wants to monitor his levels for a while to make sure this was an isolated incident.”

“Does that mean you think it’ll happen again?” Dan asks, panicking once more.

“No, not necessarily,” She’s quick to reassure him. “But because of how intense the attack was, we wanted to make sure there aren’t any underlying causes. We’ll need to know a bit more about his medical history, if you can provide it, so we know if this is a rare occurrence or not.”

Dan’s about to say something about how little they know about the children’s medical history prior to them moving in, but then Phil is there with Levi and Amelia, who are more than ready to see their brother. He offers Phil a small smile, reaching out to squeeze his hand briefly as the nurse begins leading them through the doors and down a brightly-lit corridor.

They’ve nearly reached the end of the corridor when the nurse stops and opens a door. “Jaiden, there’s someone here to see you,” she says in a gentle voice, stepping back and allowing them to walk inside. Dan makes sure to send her a grateful smile as he steps past her, his eyes immediately darting to scan his child for injuries. Despite the fact he wasn’t visibly injured when Dan brought him in, it feels like centuries have passed since then, and Dan’s already expecting the worst.

He worries for nothing, though. Jaiden looks much better than he had earlier, although he does look rather exhausted, even as his eyes light up at seeing them. “Daddy!” he calls, reaching his arms out for them.

Dan can’t stop the sniffling noise he makes, but he tries to laugh it off, blinking the dampness from his eyes as he goes to sit on the edge of the bed and pull the child into a hug. “Hi, bubby. I was so worried about you.”

Jaiden nuzzles into his chest. Dan melts. “Sorry, Daddy,” he says sweetly.

“You don’t have to apologize, Jai. It’s not your fault,” Dan says as he gently strokes a hand over Jaiden’s hair. He glances over to see Phil standing there watching them, a relieved smile on his face. Dan reaches out without a second thought, tugging on Phil’s sleeve.

Phil moves closer, grasping one of Jaiden’s hands and giving him a grin. “You gave us a real scare, little man,” he says, his voice teasing. “You know that little boys in hospital get a toy, right?”

Jaiden shrugs sheepishly. “Well… Now that you mention it…” He trails off, and everyone in the room shares a laugh.

Dan glances behind them, waving Levi and Amelia closer to the bed. “Come here, guys. Jaiden’s fine.”

“Hey, Jai,” Levi says softly as he steps closer. Jaiden reaches for him, So Phil and Dan both make some room for Levi and Amelia to have a moment with him. Amelia climbs right up next to him and starts asking him questions about what kind of toy he wants to get, completely forgetting anything concerning the injury that brought him here in the first place. Dan’s relieved and also mortified at that.

The nurse doesn’t let them stay for long. After less than ten minutes, she’s back and ushering them out, saying that Jaiden is about to be moved to a different room. The look of panic that flashes on Jaiden’s face breaks Dan’s heart all over again, but he forces himself to wave and smile brightly. “You’ll be alright, buddy. We’ll be with you as soon as they get you situated, yeah?” Jaiden manages a nod at this, and then the nurse is shooing them out, back to the waiting room.

~~~

They’re just walking back through the doors into the waiting room while they wait for Jaiden to be transferred to a new room when Dan’s gaze catches on a familiar face. He shares a look with Phil, who seems to get the message immediately.

“Hey, guys, why don’t we go see if there’s a snack machine somewhere, yeah?” Phil says, gently guiding them in the opposite direction.

Levi gives Dan a funny look, while Amelia remains distracted by the prospect of food. Dan offers a reassuring smile before making his way towards Hazel, who’s stood at the receptionist desk writing down information on a clipboard.

“Hazel, hi,” Dan greets, giving an awkward wave.

She glances up at him and smiles brightly. “Daniel! Lovely to see you again, although I’m sure we both wish it were under different circumstances.”

Dan nods, scratching at his collarbone nervously. “Yeah. We weren’t really sure what protocol was for something like this... Thank you for taking the time to stop by.”

Hazel waves her hand with a huff of laughter. “It’s no trouble. I knew there’d be information you two wouldn’t have and a check up was coming up anyway.”

Nodding again, Dan glances over at Phil and the kids, his throat tightening at the thought of how much worse this day could have been. “I’m just really happy he’s okay,” he says quietly.

Hazel gives him a sympathetic sort of smile. “You know...” she starts, slowly and carefully. “The children are technically wards of court.”

Dan’s neck nearly snaps when he glances up at her. “What?”

She does that sympathetic thing again, this time accompanied by a slow nod. “Well… Due to the… special circumstances of their case, the judge ordered a special hearing and came to a decision about the status of their case early.” She takes a deep breath. “Their parents’ rights have been terminated. So technically... with the right paperwork... you and Phil could file for legal guardianship.”

Dan blinks. His brain is still stuck on the idea that their biological parents now legally have no rights to see them, but then he registers the last thing she’d said. “So, like... adoption?” His voice pitches up nervously at the end.

She nods, glancing down at the form she’s abandoned and writing a few more notes before handing it back to the nurse. “Exactly. You don’t have to, of course, but that just means the agenda changes from trying to keep them in foster care to finding a family to adopt them.”

Dan feels sick. “We... I don’t know if Phil...” he shakes his head, trying desperately to knock his brain cells into each other to produce a thought. “Why were their parents’ rights terminated?” He asks finally.

For the first time since they started speaking, Hazel frowns, looking away briefly. “I actually think that might be something we discuss with Phil,” she says quietly.

Dan’s heart is in his throat as he makes his way over to Phil and the kids, who’ve evidently found a snack machine, as they’re currently feasting on several things Dan will reprimand Phil for later. “Hey, could you come here a second?” He says to Phil, tugging his sleeves down over his hands.

Phil glances between him and Hazel in confusion before slowly nodding. “I’ll be right back, guys. Levi, protect Jaiden’s candy bar, okay?”

Levi nods, tucking it into his jacket pocket and sticking his tongue out at Amelia when she pouts. He doesn’t seem to be concerned about whatever’s going on, and Dan allows himself to feel relieved that they won’t have to worry the teen about yet another thing. Dan leads the way back over to where Hazel’s waiting, trying to control his breathing before he starts crying. Phil, ever observant, slides his hand into Dan’s, squeezing three short times. Dan breathes a little easier.

“Phil, it’s good to see you again,” Hazel says, her voice dropped into something less exciting and more resigned. Dan’s heart does another squeeze, already ready for the worst.

“You too, Hazel,” Phil says, smiling at her. He squeezes Dan’s hand once more. “So...” he trails off, clearly implying that she should explain herself.

She nods. “So, like I told Dan, the children’s parents have had their rights terminated.” She pauses, as if she’s allowing him a moment to process it. Phil’s a smart man, though, so he just nods for her to continue, his face not giving away a single thought going through his head. “There’s a few options now. We can move the children to another temporary foster home while we look for a permanent adoptive family, or they can stay with you while we conduct the interviews for a potential family.”

Phil nods. He doesn’t even look at Dan as he asks, “Is there another option?”

She looks pleased. “You two can petition for legal guardianship.”

Phil has the same clarifying moment Dan had. “We can adopt them?” The hope in his voice nearly buckles Dan’s knees. The idea of this being permanent is something he can’t compartmentalize right now.

Hazel nods. “You could, yes.”

Before Phil can say anything else that makes Dan’s heart hurt, he interrupts. “You said something about why their parents’ rights were terminated. I want to know more about that,” he reminds her, trying to keep his voice quiet but firm.

Her face drops back into something sad and uncomfortable. “Right,” she says with a nod. She glances at the children, probably to make sure they can’t hear, then turns slightly so their conversation remains more private. “They had a very... a very difficult home life. I know there weren’t a lot of details given at the time, because there was still some investigation going on, but the very short version is they were being neglected and abused.”

Dan’s heart stops. He’s sure of it. Phil, probably unthinkingly, tightens his grip on Dan’s hand. “In what way?” Phil says, his voice almost eerily calm.

Hazel hesitates, clearly debating on what to say. “Well...” she starts slowly. “First of all, Levi doesn’t share the same father as the twins. His biological father is deceased, and he knows that the man who raised him wasn’t his real dad.”

Dan’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Then why do they have the same surname?”

She cringes at the question. “Well, according to what their mother said, his bio father didn’t want anything to do with him and asked that he be left off the birth certificate. Her husband was just her boyfriend at the time, but he signed it instead.”

Dan looks away, his eyes misting. His heart aches with the thought that Levi has had nothing but shitty people who didn’t want him from the beginning. Those children deserved the world, but from the sounds of it, evidently their biological parents didn’t believe so.

“And after that?” Phil asks. “When did the abuse happen?” He sounds mad to Dan’s trained ear, but he knows Hazel will probably just read that as concern.

“Their mother had some issues, an addiction to prescription meds was one of them. She didn’t really...” she pauses, glancing between the two of them like she’s worried they can’t handle it. Dan blinks at her. “Their mother wasn’t really present, even when she was there with them. And apparently the father was a bit of a drinker, and violent. You can piece together about how that went.”

Dan can’t stop the tears, and he tries to pull away from Phil to take a moment, but Phil grabs his sleeve and tugs him in for a hug. He’s probably craving the comfort just as much as giving it, but Dan allows it. “And was it just all the time? He just beat them, all the time?” Phil asks, his voice shaking.

Hazel shakes her head. “No, no. The report says it didn’t get very bad until about two years ago, when the dad lost his job. Levi... well, Levi started getting into fights a lot at school and eventually when they got him to a counselor he admitted that their father was beating him.”

Dan catches on the last sentence, the last word. “Him?” He reiterates. “He was just hitting Levi?”

She looks uncomfortable, but nods. “Levi apparently told the counselor that he hid the kids in the closet or somewhere so he couldn’t get to them, but he ended up putting himself in danger when he did that.” She pauses, but Dan can tell there’s more. “He also told her he was trying to get into fights to cover up the fact that he was showing up to school with fresh bruises every day.”

Dan swears, hiding his face against Phil’s shoulder as he lets out a shuddering breath. “I can’t believe...” he cuts himself off with a sob. Phil’s arms tighten around his shoulders, and he hears the quiet sound of Phil apologizing half-heartedly to Hazel.

“Shh, Dan. It’s... they’re safe now. Yeah? They’re safe.” Phil’s voice is quiet and calm in his ear, and for the second time today, the sound of it is enough to calm Dan out of a panic attack.

Slightly embarrassed, Dan pulls away, wiping at his face with his sleeve in a disgusting manner. “Thank you for telling us the truth, Hazel,” he says to her, trying to keep his voice from breaking.

She nods, looking more apologetic and guilty than he’s ever seen her. “I hated that we couldn’t tell you at the beginning, but there was a lot we didn’t know, and until the investigation was finished there was only so much information we could share.”

“I understand,” Dan says, even though he thinks he doesn’t, not really. “Thank you for telling us now.”

“How long do we have to think about adoption?” Phil asks out of nowhere, almost as if he’s been in a daze for the past few minutes.

Hazel glances between the two of them before shrugging. “Well we can give you a few weeks before we start actively looking for new adoptive parents, and we’ll let you know when that process starts so you have until then really to make your decision.”

Phil nods. He doesn’t look at Dan, instead shaking Hazel’s hand to say goodbye. “Thank you, Hazel. We really appreciate, well, everything.”

She smiles at him, and it looks much more relaxed. “Of course, anytime you need me, just call.” She glances at Dan, who can only offer her a weak smile. “I do try to remain unbiased, but it’s very inspiring to see how much you two genuinely care for these children. I think you’d make the perfect family for them, if that’s what you decide.” With another smile and a squeeze of Dan’s arm, she’s gone, leaving them standing there alone to process her words.

“So-“ Phil starts, pulling his arm away from Dan slowly.

“I can’t- not yet, okay?” Dan interrupts, a little panicked at the idea of making any decisions right now. “I think we should talk about it at home.”

Phil studies him for a moment before nodding, leaning in and kissing Dan’s forehead. “Sure, love. We’ll talk later.”

Dan doesn’t bother hiding his relief as they make their way back over to where they’d left Levi and Amelia. His head is swimming with thoughts and he’s finding it hard to swim in all of it after the day he’s had. But with the most important people in his life watching, he forces himself to play the part of someone calm, cool, and relaxed.

~~~

When they finally move Jaiden to a room upstairs, Dan’s nerves manage to settle, if only a little bit. There’s something comforting in knowing that there are doctors and nurses around in case something does happen, and he’s more than relieved when a doctor comes to speak to them, informing them that everything is okay and they’ve confirmed Jaiden does in fact have asthma. Dan manages to stop his nervous pacing long enough to ask them if that means he needs an inhaler. The doctor smiles a little sadly, but nods.

“He’ll more than likely need at least an emergency inhaler with him from now on,” they say, nodding. “But, we do need to run some more tests to make sure we give him the correct kind, and to make sure there’s no scarring on his lungs or anything like that.”

Dan nods, sharing a look with Phil, who’s sat on the bed beside Jaiden. “Alright, thank you.”

The doctor smiles, giving Jaiden a high five. “You’re a brave little man,” they tell him, making Jaiden grin proudly. “Gave your dads a bit of a scare there, but we’ve got you all patched up, buddy,” they continue, grinning at Dan and Phil before stepping towards the door. “A nurse will be in shortly to take his vitals and blood for the tests we need to run. It shouldn’t take too long.”

Phil smiles and nods at them. “Right, thank you again. We really appreciate it.”

They nod, and with another smile at Jaiden they’re gone, back off down the corridor to treat someone else. Dan’s still trying to wrap his head around how they went this long without finding out about Jaiden’s asthma, but he’s distracted when he hears Levi asking a question.

“Can Mia and I go find the gift shop?” He asks, his voice hopeful.

Phil smiles at them, glancing at Dan before answering. When Dan gives a conceding shrug, Phil nods. “Sure, just stay together and try not to stay too long.” He pulls his wallet out then, handing Levi his credit card without blinking. “Just sign my name if they ask for a signature,” he says.

Levi looks shocked, glancing between Phil and the card, and then at Dan, as if it’s some sort of joke. Dan simply smiles and shrugs, so Levi nods, reaching out for Amelia’s hand and making their way out of the room. Dan looks over at Phil, quirking an eyebrow. Phil quirks one right back. “Watch them come back with literally the biggest stuffed bear in the world,” Dan says, rolling his eyes.

Phil shrugs with a vague smile. “It’s out of the goodness of their hearts, Dan,” Phil says, biting his full bottom lip to hide his smile.

Dan crosses his arms over his chest. “It’s out of your pocket, bub,” he retorts, mostly playful. He really didn’t think Levi would overspend that much.

Jaiden giggles. “I’d like a big stuffed bear, I think,” Jaiden offers, voice hopeful.

“I reckon you deserve a stuffed bear after today, huh?” Phil speaks softly, brushing the dark hair out of Jaiden’s eyes. Jaiden smiles a little sheepishly, but nods. Phil glances at Dan with a little smile.

Dan’s heart hurts. He steps over towards them, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Jaiden’s head. “We’re so glad you’re alright, Jai-bird,” he says softly.

Jaiden smiles up at him. “I’m fine, Daddy. Just tired. And a little bit hungry,” he confesses.

Dan and Phil share a laugh at that. It’s so very characteristic of him to say something like that, even after the day he’s had. Dan ruffles his hair softly. “I promise we’ll get you some food as soon as we leave here, yeah?”

“Burgers?” Jaiden asks, his voice hopeful.

Phil tugs on one of Dan’s belt loops, his eyes wide and excited when Dan looks at him. “I wouldn’t mind a burger either, Dan,” he says, his voice sweet.

Rolling his eyes, Dan makes a big show of sighing loudly. “Alright, alright. Burgers it is.”

“Thank you, bear.” Phil looks exceptionally pleased as he tugs Dan closer, wrapping his arms around Dan’s waist in a loose hug. Dan’s arms automatically go around Phil’s neck, and he has the burning desire to press kisses to the blank canvas of his pale forehead. He doesn’t fully reign in that desire, but he satisfies it by dropping a kiss just above his left brow bone.

Turning to look at Jaiden, Dan makes an exasperated noise, shaking his head. “You’re both spoiled, you know,” he teases.

Phil makes a noise of protest, pulling away to pout up at Dan. “Am not,” he denies.

Dan tugs on a lock of hair right above his fingers. Phil cringes, but his lips quirk up in a smile. “Yes you are. Milkshakes at midnight, pizza almost every week, sneaking marshmallows, stealing-“

Phil presses his hand over Dan’s mouth. “If you say one word about the cereal, I swear-“

His threat is cut off by a yelp as Phil yanks his hand away. Dan grins.

“Dan,” Phil whines, wiping his wet hand on Dan’s sweater. “That’s disgusting.”

Dan pulls out of his grip, smirking. Jaiden giggles hysterically from where he’s laying on the bed, and Dan shares a smile with him. “That’s what you get, Phil. That’s a very important lesson for you to learn.”

Phil’s nose crinkles. “I can’t believe you licked my hand.”

A mischievous glint is in Dan’s eyes as he brings a hand up to pet Phil’s hair, a feigned sense of comfort in the motion. Phil leans into the touch, and Dan grins before quickly leaning in and licking a short stripe up the center of his forehead.

Jaiden is practically howling with laughter as Phil shoves Dan away, spluttering loudly and obnoxiously. “Daniel!” He screeches.

“Shh,” Dan warns through his own giggles. “Phil, be quiet, we’re in hospital,” he reprimands.

Phil shoots him a dirty look, crossing his arms in a pout.

Before he can counter with anything else, the door to Jaiden’s room swings open, causing the three of them to immediately go quiet, reigning in their horrible behavior in fear of a nurse coming to reprimand them, for sure. Dan feels like a child again.

They have no real reason for that fear, though, because Levi steps inside, looking at them with a suspicious look in his eyes. “What are you guys doing?” He asks, sounding concerned.

Dan bites his lip to stifle a laugh, glancing at Phil pointedly. Phil at least as the sense to look mildly embarrassed, shrugging sheepishly. “Er- Dan is being mean?” His words lilt up like a question, erasing any credibility his words might have had.

Levi glances at Dan, clearly confused. Dan shrugs. “I licked his hand.”

“You licked my forehead,” Phil adds, unnecessarily. He tugs at Dan’s shirt, and Dan bats his hand away weakly.

“Details, details,” he says dismissively. He grins at Levi, his eyes darting to Amelia to see what they got. “Wow. Is that for you or your brother?” Dan asks on a laugh.

Amelia looks sheepish as she moves towards the bed with the rather large stuffed toy. “Levi said I had to give it to Jai, ‘cause I’m not the one who got hurt.”

Dan nods, hiding a smile. “Well I’m sure Jaiden appreciates that, right bub?”

Jaiden’s grabbing for the plushy, his eyes bright and excited. “It’s so cool!” He says, his voice awed as she climbs onto the bed beside him, handing over the dinosaur toy. “Thanks,” he says, barely glancing at her.

Dan’s knee-jerk reaction to correct him into a more polite response is right there, but a light pinch to his waist redirects his attention. Phil’s giving him a look, almost like he’d read his mind. Dan stays quiet.

“Levi, my card?” Phil says, turning his head to look over at the teenager.

Levi looks confused for a moment, but when he remembers he looks vaguely embarrassed, digging into his front pocket. He produces the card, a receipt wrapped around it. Handing it over, he brushes his hair out of his eyes before mumbling quickly, “I just forgot. I wasn’t trying to steal it.”

Phil gives him a funny look. “I know that. I know you wouldn’t.” His voice is gentle and reassuring, but Levi doesn’t meet his eyes. “Were you okay using it?” He asks.

Levi nods, his eyes drifting. “It’s just, like. I haven’t really been allowed to spend money and stuff since before the group home.” He looks between Dan and the floor then, like he’s trying not to have this conversation with Phil there.

Before Dan can unpack that or say anything, Phil speaks, his fingers tapping out a rhythm against Dan’s thigh. “Would you like to have an allowance, Levi?”

The teenager looks surprised, glancing at Phil for real this time. “I- that’s not- I wasn’t like, asking for one, I just meant-“

“I know,” Phil rushes to reassure him. “I’m just asking you if you’d like one. You need to learn about how to budget and handle money anyway, and we’d be happy to get you a card for you to use.”

Levi looks shocked. “Er...” his eyes flicker to Dan, who only offers an encouraging smile. “Sure. Yeah, I’d... I’d really like that. Thanks.”

Phil smiles, an easy shrug on his shoulders. “Of course. Me or Dan will request a card and account sometime this week, yeah?”

Levi nods, moving to sit in the chair on the opposite side of Jaiden’s bed. He begins talking to the twins, and Dan sighs, focusing on Phil, who’s looking up at him with a pinched sort of expression. Dan loops his arms around his neck, tilting his head in a silent question. Phil only shakes his head, so Dan takes a moment to make sure the kids’ voices will drown him out before he leans in to whisper in Phil’s ear. “You okay?”

Phil nods, patting Dan’s hip, a little bit closer to his bum than he’d been before. Dan refuses to think about that. “Yeah. Sorry that I, like, did that without your permission.”

And that sort of makes Dan feel like an asshole. He tries to repress it, but Phil’s tone, and the words themselves, bring back very unwanted flashbacks of previous disagreements they’ve had over the course of fostering the kids. He cups a hand around the back of Phil’s neck, squeezing gently before leaning in and kissing his forehead.

“I’m not mad. I think it’s a great idea. I’ll check into making him an account Monday.” He kisses Phil’s temple this time, just for good measure. Phil smiles up at him. He doesn’t ask before tilting forward, leaving the tiniest of soft kisses on Dan’s lips. Dan’s heart flutters in the least platonic way there is, feeling on all accounts like a lovesick teenager.

~~~

((If you skipped the TW scene with Hazel: essentially, all you need to know is that the children are now wards of state, meaning their parents' rights have been terminated, and they could now (theoretically) be adopted. Thank you for reading!))

#phan #phanfiction #parent!au #parent!phan #foster parent #foster parent au #bbc producer!phil #school counselor!dan #fake relationship #friends to lovers #best friends #if you don't love me pretend #iydlmp #chapter 21 #iydlmp chapter 21

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