#my first week at this place i got maybe the worst flu of my life and my manager was completely fine about it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kirishoshego · 3 years

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Confidental Composition//Bakugo

!!!MINORS DNI!!! 18+ONLY !!!

This is the first part of my little 'Teachers Pet Series' (I will add the link once I got all parts covered and the right ideas).

Summary: A simple task fucked up late at night as you send the wrong version of a piece of homework to your English literature teacher Mister Bakugo. Of course, he would want to see you after class the next day. But not for the reasons you might think. Pairing: Docent!Bakugo x afab!student!y/n // Words: 4.2k+ Side note: Insert a friend or random name you want for X :)

TW: nsfw: slow burn (sorry), spanking with a ruler, hair pulling, being bend over a desk, calling him sir, spitting, choking, dirty talk, degrading, slight praise

„Write an essay about the worst description of a woman or coitus. In the essay, explain why it is bad and then rewrite it. At least 30 pages, max. 60 pages (sources and any other extras you please to include, excluded). Due Date: 8 weeks from now on, 35% worth of your end grade. Questions can be asked per E-Mail, or, if you must, I’m free every Wednesday afternoon for meetings strictly for this essay and this essay only.“

A sigh left your lips as you starred at the piece of paper for the tenth time today ever since he handed it out to you and your classmates. The options you had were endless, you knew so many bad pieces about both topics and could write more than 100 pages about them as well. Everyone in class you talked to had decided on their topic already, some were even further. It was X who told you to just write the topics on a piece of paper and let fate do its work.

Black ink on a badly ripped blue note decided that you were going to write about a sex scene. Just now that you thought about it, rewriting something like that for your professor to read was an awfully stupid idea, yet you decided to listen to a small piece of paper.

At first, you were going to go with Fifty Shades of Grey but you felt like the choice was chewed up and spat out. It took you three days to finally decide on a book and once you settled there was no turning back. Considering your ignited interest in this topic you weren’t surprised when you were done within the first four weeks. Knowing the editing is going to take another week, maybe even a week and a half, you decided to take a small break, just one or two days off. On your second day, you decided to visit the new coffee shop that had just opened up around the corner.

Never had you expected to see your professor near your living spot. You were about to greet him when you noticed his pissed-off expression on his face and only now did you spot the woman behind him. She grabbed his arm and made him turn on the relatively small and empty street.

„Suki you can’t be serious,“ she was angry and hurt, while he seemed to be angry and annoyed. Not much of a difference than to how you see him on the daily, to be honest. „Are you fucking stupid? Of course, I’m fucking god damn serious. It was your choice to cheat on me and now I choose to throw you on the streets where you apparently belong, go ask one of your little boy toys to take you in for all I care,“ you were frozen in place, not entirely sure what to do. Right now your eyes were glued on his chest that was clad in a tight, black pullover, rising up and down heavily as his nostrils were flared caused by his anger. „Because you gave me no choice! If you like that sort of weird, rough shit then paddle your own canoe! I need something soft and tender-,“ before she could finish her sentence he laughed. Cold and slightly maniac in a way.

„Then get some fucking chicken! If you don’t like how I’m in bed then break up with me and piss off but don’t send my best friend a nude to ask him to come over. Even a ten-year-old would see how stupid that is,“at that moment your eyes met. His eyebrows were furled together, red eyes expression furry and disgust. Blond hair usually styled like he was going to be on the cover of Vogue, like he had been before, now slightly messy. Plump lips slightly apart to let his teeth shine through slightly before wetting them with his tongue. Your eyes widened and before you knew what you were doing you waved at him, making him cock his eyebrows in confusion for a second before noticing it was you who he was looking at. Turning on your heels you walked past busy crowds of people as you walked back home, trying to understand what you had just seen and why your angry professor had turned you on more than anyone had done before.

It was a stupid idea to ditch the next teaching unit of his but you had absolutely no clue how you were going to look at him. You knew teachers had a private life themselves, but never would you have guessed that you would run into one of them in your small area. As far as you knew he lived across town according to the very, very few private stories he had shared in magazines.

„Dear Professor,

down below is my finished project as an attachment in form of a PDF. I know you request it to be printed as well and I had planned to hand it in today, but sadly I came down with the flu. I’m looking forward to attending your next unit in the following week.

Have a nice week,

Y/N Y/L/N“

Maybe he had forgotten that you were there already and you were worrying too much about it. You were his student, nothing more, nothing less. Bakugo could care less about you, right? The flu did go around a lot right now, so it wouldn’t be completely unthinkable that you were sick. Itching eyes signaled you that it was time to go to bed now, so you closed your laptop and went to bed, not knowing what the next day will hold for you.

X had waited for you at the main entrance the next day to give you all the information you might need and ask why you weren’t there, considering it was obvious that you had the flu for one day only. At first, you were hesitant to explain what you had witnessed, it was messy already and you doubt Mister Bakugo would want the fight to go viral at his workplace. „Just one of those days you know? I had my mind completely full and felt like crap,“ that was the best excuse you could come up with, a white little lie that wouldn’t harm anyone. „Glad to see you’re doing- Oh, hello Professor,“ X smiled at someone behind you. There was no need to turn around to know who it was, the scent of his very expensive and extremely beguiling perfume clouding your mind. „Hello,“ his gruff voice greeted your friend shortly as you turned around, met with his muscular chest. You didn’t expect him to be so close to you, but here you were, tilting your head slightly as you looked up to him through your lashes, feeling not just your cheeks growing hot. „Good morning Sir,“ your voice sounded a lot more confident than you were feeling. Bakugo clenched his fist around the fake leather of his bag, his red eyes starring right into your soul as you had no chance of escaping whatever was going to happen next. „Miss Y/L/N, just the person I was looking for,“ fuck. „You were?“ X and you said at the same time, but your friend decided to excuse themself after a single glare from the older man. „How may I help you, Professor?“ You asked after swallowing down the anxious feeling that threatened to rise. „I received your Mail yesterday, with the PDF,“ okay, why did he search you just to tell you he got your assignment? Was it that bad? „But I’m relatively sure that it was the wrong one, considering I doubt that you want your teacher to know that 'this shit is so bad, but I wouldn’t mind being bent over a writing desk like that' with a smirking emoji at the end,“ only when his finger pushed your chin upwards gently you noticed that it was agape, shame filling every molecule in your body as you already planned your escape out of this country. Nobody was near you to see the weirdly intimidating scene happening between you and your teacher.

„Also I know you didn’t have the flu. I don’t appreciate being lied to. Tomorrow five p.m. in my office, don’t be late or you will get in more trouble. Send me the actual version tonight so I can grade it. I won’t let something as unprofessional as this slide again, understood?“ You nodded, taking in all of the information given to you, and somewhat in all of this mess felt thankful that he was giving you a second chance. The man in front of you rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue, ordering you to speak up. „Yes Sir, thank you,“ you sounded more confident than you felt inside. „Good,“ was all Bakugo said before he turned around, leaving you behind in the big hall dumbfounded and confused… And horny.

As if Chronos himself felt immense joy in your misery, minutes appeared to be hours and the panic inside of you only grew the closer you came to five in the afternoon. You tried everything, watching a show, listening to podcasts and audiobooks, reading a book you had put of for so long, went outside, cooked something, worked on another assignment, stopped yourself from destroying your hair, made the phone call you so desperately had put off and it’s still only ten p.m on the same day. How was that even possible? As you laid in bed you tossed and turned, the thought of your really hot teacher all angry, breathing heavily, his hands roaming your body. It was hard to pinpoint exactly when those thoughts turned into a very lucid dream, but when you woke up in the morning, already an hour too late to your first period, all you wanted to do was scream into your pillow.

Considering first class is canceled, you wanna go grab breakfast? X texted you.

Canceled? Checking your mails you saw your teacher had sent out a mail, excusing themselves and explaining they came down with the flu. A blessing in disguise. You let X know that you would meet up at the building and go grab something near it. Once agreed, you took a quick shower, a moment of peace given to you as water hit your body. There was no way you could do anything between your last class and the meeting with Professor Bakugo, so you tried to look your best possible for the next upcoming hours.

Suddenly time flew by and the closer you got the more you begged for a little bit more time, for him to postpone it, anything. But no, here you were, five minutes early and looking around to spot the blond man with no luck. „Miss Y/L/N. Step inside,“ you jumped slightly as his voice boomed up behind you, not expecting him to be in the office already.

Once you walked inside you were stunned about how clean everything was, no matter where you looked it was neat. His books were sorted alphabetically with marks between them to let him know when a new letter began. As far as you could tell he used cherry wood for his pieces of furniture, a big, black carpet in a corner underneath a small seating area, and some books placed on the table. Even his paperwork was stacked in order. Big glass windows allowed the evening sun to fall into the room, its warmness kissing your skin while you were seated in front of him, a big writing desk between the two of you, on it your work.

It was quiet for a short moment, before he leaned back in his chair, red eyes mustering you up and down which didn’t help at all. „What would you like to talk about first? Your assignment or the fact that you lied to me?“ Why was he so bothered by your lie? You knew plenty of students calling in sick every once in a while even though they aren’t. „I apologize for both of it. It shouldn’t have happened and I learned from my mistake,“ you were hoping that it would ease his anger a little bit but he seemed more worked up than usual. „Although I don’t understand why you are so angry at me for it? Plenty students lie-,“ „Yes, but they aren’t stupid enough to make it so obvious,“ he interrupted you. „I could care less about who’s missing my class, it’s their fault in the end if they decide learning is unnecessary. However you are one of my top students, I expected better from you. You could have excused yourself with no explanation. But you chose to add the feeble lie about being sick for what?“

You took in a deep breath, feeling as if another lie would be caught immediate, so you had no other choice but to tell him the real reason: „I heard the fight you had with the woman you were with, in the café, and I didn’t know how to react when I see you in your class,“ there was a small moment where he looked honestly confused before something clicked in his brain. „So it was you who I saw. What did you hear?“ „I can’t really rem-,“ „One more lie and I will lose my temper, don’t test me,“ shit, why was he turning you on so much right now. He’s your teacher for god’s sake and angry at you, this wasn’t the right time. „That she doesn’t agree with certain things in your private life,“ „Like?“ he knew you tried to talk around it, yet he wanted you to talk about, to see you embarrassed again, he liked that look on you. „The way you fuck,“ it was said before your brain could even comprehend the words, another apology laying at the tip of your tongue but his next question cut you off before you could say something else. „Why were you there in the first place? I’ve been there a few times and never saw you or any other student,“ he explained. „Because I live close by?“ It sounded more defiantly than you had wanted, causing your opponent to cock his eyebrow.

„I feel like you’re forgetting who’s the authority figure here,“ he walked up to his door, locking it before coming back. Now he was right in front of you, slightly sitting on his desk and the sleeves of his button-up shirt pushed up a little. „No sir, I’m sorry,“ „You see, the problem is, I don’t really believe you,“ with that he pulled you up, bodies pressed against each other, letting you feel his toned torso while the muscles in his arms flexed slightly.

„You lied to me once already, I think I have to teach you a lesson,“ everything happened so fast and you suddenly found yourself face down on his desk with his hand between your shoulder blades, the other one grabbing his wooden ruler. „If I recall correctly this is what you wanted right?“ His voice was low, slightly above a whisper as his upper body was pressed against your back while he pulled a few hair strands from your face. „Yes, but Professor I don’t think this is a good idea,“ your inner voice yelled at you, saying this was the best idea ever, angry that you possibly ruined your dreams coming true.

„Tell me to stop and I will do so immediately. Your choice. There will be no consequences if you worry about that,“ he reassured you, waiting for you to get up and run, but you didn’t and the current position allowed him to feel you clench your legs. „So?“ He asked again, the ruler in his hand basically burning with the anticipation of hitting your skin. „No, don't stop,“ you breathed, awaiting his next move.

„Good,“ with that he exposed your raised ass, your underwear the only thing between your bare skin and the wood that came down upon it, one foot raising in the air because of the sudden pain. „From now on if you say stop I won’t listen, you will tell me how you feel through colors. If it’s too much you tell me red and I will drop everything, understood?“ Another spank was delivered to the same spot.

„Yes,“ another one. You weren’t sure if he hit harder or if your skin turned more sensitive with every blow.

„It’s sir to you,“ you could feel him lunge out but shortly before the ruler came down he stoped, laughing slightly at your small jump.

„Yes sir,“ another one.

„You’re going to apologize every time my ruler paints your cute ass even redder, got it?“ You nodded your head, a moan escaping the back of your throat as he spanked you yet again.

„One more thing, be a good girl and stay quiet, wouldn’t wanna get caught now do we?“ He knew it was going to be torture for you to follow his order the more he continued and in a way he wanted you to fail. There was so much build-up inside of him and it appears that you were willing enough for him to use you as he pleased. That’s why you were his favorite. Bakugo knew what he was doing was wrong and he never expected to feel this way for one of his students but forbidden fruit tastes the best.

You stopped counting after the seventh blow, sorries, sirs and small whimpers fall from your lips as if they were your whole vocabulary. At one point you started crying, tears mixed with mascara running down your cheeks. He tried to remember something that turned him on more than the sight of your messed-up body with no luck. Everything build up inside of him, everything itching in his hands, the inner desires he had to soften for his ex, it all was going to come down on you. His thick girth twitched at the simple thought of finally being surrounded by your dripping wet cunt.

A warm soft hand rubbed over your bruised flesh while the other one found its way into your hair to pull you up to him, your back arched.

„What are you sorry for?“ Your mind was clouded with pleasure and pain, the only thought right now was the feeling of his dick print right between your sore cheeks. „I asked my little bitch a question, I expect you to fucking answer,“ this time he spanked you with his hand but it was just as intense as his ruler. „I don’t know,“ you breathed, a soft moan slipping out of you when his thumb barely circled your throbbing clit. „You’re just apologizing because you want me to use you?“ You could hear him chuckle lowly before he pushed your underwear to the side, his middle finger now playing with you. „Yes sir,“ Katsuki couldn’t hear a single ounce of shame in your voice and he wondered how long you had been thinking about him like this before.

„I never expected you to be such a dumb, cock hungry whore,“ The sound of his belt hitting the floor was dull like it was far away from you but at the same time, you felt him closer than before. Strong hands around your waist turned you around and once again he lifted your head with his finger underneath your chin, studying your ruined make-up as if he was memorizing every little detail he never wanted to forget. The blond, muscular man lifted you with ease, your behind getting a small moment of cooling as it hit his wooden desk.

Bakugo dried your tears slightly with his thumb, smearing it even more. „Only for you,“ you whispered and in that moment he couldn’t stop himself, he just had to kiss you. Not sweet and gentle, but passionately and hungry, like he was poisoned and your kiss was the antidote. The hand behind your head traveling to the front as you were laid down completely.

„If I had known before I would have fucked you so much sooner,“ with one hard thrust he was buried deep inside of you, one hand over your mouth because he knew you wouldn’t be able to keep quiet and the other one around your throat, squeezing shut and watching you struggle against it slightly. Your professor was thicker than what you were used to and you didn’t know how good it would feel until now. With the first few snaps of his hips, you knew you never wanted to feel something else anymore.

Your hands went to his arms and you tugged on them, causing him to let go as the blood found its way back to your brain. „Color?“ he asked, afraid you weren’t able to handle him. „Green,“ was all you could get out before another moan cut off your ability to talk.

„Good girl,“ he whispered into your ear, kissing down from your earlobe to your shoulder before sucking on a rather sensitive spot. Both of your wrists were held over your head with his left hand, with the explanation that he doesn’t appreciate being stopped while using you however he pleased. The right hand was going from between your chest after he admired your bouncing tits thoroughly, to your stomach to connect with your most sensitive bundle of nerves. Bakugo switched from circles to eights, from fast to slow, but the harshness of his hips never haltered.

„I know you wanna scream right now, but I can’t allow that. Can’t let others hear what a dirty slut you are for me right now. I promise I will fuck you in my house if you behave now. You can moan my name as much as you want. Or maybe I will gag you, watch you drool all over yourself. Maybe I will tie you up and edge you for an hour straight until you’re begging me to fuck you, you like the sound of that, huh? I can feel you squeezing around me,“ another chuckle left his plump lips as he watched you struggle to stay up on your feet.

„Maybe I will let you choke on my dick while I work on something for the next lesson. Gonna use you as my little cum dump. Let you think about it again when I talk about it in front of the whole class. Do-,“ you were so close when a sudden knock on the door startled you both, but he never once stopped what he was doing, if anything he went even harder, whispering into your ear to be quiet for him.

„Hey Kat, your ex is outside and says she wants to talk, want me to send her in?“ It was the psychologist professor Shinso, his voice as done and deep as usual. „No, I’m occupied,“ Bakugo saw your mouth open after you fought so hard against it, he couldn’t let you moan, not right now. He did the first thing he could think of, spitting into it and watching you swallow. Oh, he would definitely film you do this with his cum covering you everywhere and the thought brought him slightly closer to his release. „Still grading papers huh? I don’t get where you got all of that energy from,“ his voice was blurred out by Bakugo whispering into your ear. „Do you want me to tell you what we're doing right now? Let him know I’m fucking my little toy stupid right now?“ And while you were shaking your head no it was the last straw for you and you found yourself grabbing his hand to put over your mouth, biting your lips until you tasted blood to muffle the scream you couldn’t stop. Bakugo cursed under his breath when he could feel you throbbing around his dick and your nails digging into his arm. „Tell her to leave me the fuck alone, she’s already forgotten,“ his voice sounded strained and you knew he was close as well. „Ah, I see. Well then have fun,“ his laugh was fading away the further he went.

„Can’t believe that made you cum, you’re even more perfect than I thought, such a dirty girl, tsk,“ both his hands are on your hips and he pulled your body against him with every thrust. You were still coming down from your orgasm when you felt his thrusts turning sloppy before he stopped completely, his dick now pulsing while he was holding you tightly. Breath uneven and getting stable on his feet again he turned you around, careful so he wouldn’t hurt you.

„Next time I gonna make sure you can’t walk but right now I need you to be able to leave the building,“ he pulled his pants back up and added: „Sadly,“ before walking around his desk.

It was still hard for you to stand so you sat down, wincing as the usually soft cushion now felt like thousand of tiny spikes on your bruised ass. Before you pull your bottoms up again he grabbed your wrist and pulled you up, once again with a stern expression on his face you were so familiar with.

„I apparently really fucked you stupid if you think I let you leave like this,“ having him put cooling cream on your bare bum felt more intimate than having him be balls deep inside you. „Sorry I just thought-,“ „Well, you thought wrong. I don’t know what kind of boys you had in the past but now that you have me there are going to be changes, got that?“

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skzsauce01 · 3 years

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Angel Sent From Up Above

Anniversary Request Special

Synopsis: Hyunjin, a new guardian angel, has fallen in love with a human. His human’s girlfriend, to be precise. Angel AU, background college AU and skater AU.

Warning: violence

Word Count: 8.3k

Pairing: fem!reader x guardian angel!Hyunjin; fem!reader x human!Jeongin

“Is she healed now?” Hyunjin asks the moment Jisung flies in. He knows Jisung is probably exhausted from keeping maladies away from you, but he needs the answer now. “Is her flu gone?”

“Yeah.” Jisung’s wings are tinged gray with ruin, but he keeps them on display for all the other guardian angels to see as he walks past them. They are proof that he has been doing his duty. They’ll return to white soon enough anyway. “Your human’s her boyfriend. Why didn’t you try to check through him? He visited a few times even though she told him not to.” Jisung sighs and shakes his head. “What an idiot. He’s going to get sick himself.”

“He hasn't visited recently, so I haven’t been able to check through him. The Archangel’s forbade me going to Earth unless it was something serious. I think he’s worried I'm spending too much time with humans.”

Jisung shakes his head. “I think he’s worried that he’s going to have to Seungmin you.”

“I'm not going to get expelled.”

Jisung shrugs, and ruin falls from his wings like ash. “You better watch out. You checked up on her too much last time she got sick, so he's probably trying to make sure you won't abandon your human. He's banished people for less. Case in point: Seungmin.”

“She's important to Jeongin, so she's important to me."

Jisung sighs. “Sometimes I think you’re more protective of her than I am.”

He says it as a joke, but Hyunjin knows it’s the truth. He cares deeply about you, maybe even more than his own human, but he will never say that last part aloud.

Hyunjin used to believe that becoming a guardian angel was the best thing that ever happened to him. All of his afterlife, he had wanted to be promoted, to be granted the pure white wings and the crown of sun rays. Regular angels had wings and halos but never white wings and golden halos; silver and silver was the “regular” combination.

Watching over a human was considered the highest honor an angel could receive, and everyone clamored to gain the attention of the Archangel. Hyunjin was not immune. He worked as a messenger for years, delivering even the most inane notes between the higher ups. He endured the attacks, verbal and sometimes physical, and kept his mouth shut. Eventually, the Archangel recognized his efforts, and before dawn broke on Earth, Hyunjin was named the new guardian angel of a baby boy, Yang Jeongin.

“You will protect him. You will guide him,” the Archangel said. “He is your responsibility now and yours alone. Do you understand?”

From Heaven, Hyunjin could only look at the wet, wrinkled face of his human. His human. “I understand.”

Then the Archangel flew off, and Hyunjin flew to Earth for the first time to meet the baby. No one noticed him as he phased through the hospital walls nor as his giant wings folded back. Only Jeongin would be able to see his guardian angel.

“Hello there, little one,” he whispered to the swaddled baby. The boy was fast asleep, and Hyunjin gently stroked his face. “I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Hyunjin, your official guardian angel. I’ll always be nearby now, and I’ll always make sure you’re safe. Sometimes you won’t be able to see me, but I’ll always be watching over you. I promise.”

Jeongin stirred awake and stared back at Hyunjin. Two sets of eyes blinked at each other, one full of curiosity and one full of tenderness.

“Go back to sleep,” Hyunjin said. He drew his hand over the baby’s face, and Jeongin’s eyes fluttered shut. “Sweet dreams, little one.”

Guardian angels talked about their humans like parents, bragging about how gifted they were and sharing complaints about what unbelievable thing they did the other day. Hyunjin mostly did the latter. Jeongin was an adventurous child, which was just a nice way of saying that he liked to play with danger. Hyunjin often had to fly in to save him or to redirect the threat somewhere else. The other angels joked that Hyunjin stayed on Earth more than Heaven sometimes. He didn’t mind though. Even with his human’s shortcomings, Hyunjin adored him. He watched from above as Jeongin said his first words, attended his first day of kindergarten, and got into his first fight.

“He’s a troublemaker,” Minho observed.

Minho was a guardian angel as well, but he tended to lurk on the outer edges of the realm as the other angels avoided him for a reason Hyunjin hadn’t figured out yet. Hyunjin liked him well enough and treated him like a mentor, sometimes a friend.

“Hey, you’re not one to talk. Your human started a black market of candy at school.”

Minho shrugged. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

Jeongin didn’t end up growing up into a troublemaker, to Hyunjin’s relief. The impulsive streak was still there, but he utilized his judgement more now. There were no car crashes or cases of alcohol poisoning, and when Jeongin asked out girls, it was with daisy bouquets and a suggestion to get lunch. Hyunjin slowly stopped making routine trips to Earth and chose to view Jeongin from the comfort of Heaven. It was there that Hyunjin noticed you.

“I think she’s upset with him,” Jisung abruptly says. “She cried after a video call with him, so if your human starts acting strangely, that’s why.”

The news makes Hyunjin stop mid-step, and he turns to his friend. “She cried? What? What did she cry about?”

“I don’t know. I was too busy trying to lower her temperature. Can you believe that she almost hit—”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I just got back! There is no ‘earlier!’ Besides, we aren't allowed to interfere in anything that isn't dangerous. Heartbreak, if this is even what this is, is temporary."

“Humans do drastic things for love.” The movies has seen while watching Jeongin have told him that much.

“Which we will attend to when it happens. You’re a new guardian; you’ll understand them better over time. Not everything is life-threatening, fragile as they are.”

Hyunjin turns away from Jisung and glances down at Earth. The clouds part, and all of the brick buildings of the university rush towards his eyes as he focuses on Jeongin. He’s asleep at his desk, his lamp still burning bright above him. How long has it been since the video call? Or perhaps he’s just tired from the events of his day. But he looks so small and vulnerable in his chair. Jeongin isn’t fragile — the amount of situations he has gotten out of covered in bruises and blood is astronomical — but he is mortal.

“But she loves him,” Hyunjin softly says, “and he loves her.”

“Exactly. Humans fight over small things all the time, and this is one of those times.” Jisung places a hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder to placate him. “Trust me.”

“... I trust you.”

“Good. I need to rest, but we can catch up and see what stupid things they do after.”

The moment Jisung flies off to the rest area, Hyunjin goes against the Archangel’s orders and flies to your apartment. When he peers inside your bedroom window, he spots you sitting in bed in the dark, your phone screen illuminating your face. He phases inside and sits at your desk chair, resting his forearms at the top rail. You can’t see him, but he wishes that you could.

You mindlessly scroll through messages, sniffling every few seconds. Whether it’s from your crying or your illness, he doesn’t know. He can’t hand you a tissue or tell you comforting things or hug you like Jeongin can. When you wrap your blanket tighter around your shoulders, he wraps his wings around himself as well.

Suddenly you throw your phone beside you and let out a heavy sigh. “It can’t get any worse than this,” you say to yourself.

Hyunjin waits for you to say more, but you only stare at the ceiling with blank eyes. He can’t compel you to talk; only Jisung can, but he’s not here. So instead, Hyunjin knocks over the glass of water on your bed when you shift into a more comfortable position.

“Of course it can,” you sigh again and blot as much water as you can with your tissues. You pull another one out of the box with more force than necessary and furiously dab your sheets. “First I get sick, then I miss a homework deadline that I can’t make up because my professor lost his heart thirty years ago along with his hair, then my boyfriend breaks up with me for like no reason, apparently I have an exam tomorrow, and now I’ve spilled water all over my bed, so I can’t even sleep. Thank you, universe. I really needed this.”

He immediately regrets his decision.

“Worst freaking week of my life,” you mumble as you throw away the wet tissues. Hyunjin almost reaches out for your arm when you pass by, but he retracts it just in time.

When you climb back into bed, you draw your blanket up to your chin and begin murmuring numbers. They come out calm and even at first, but they become more tense as time passes. Hyunjin half-listens as he scans the contents of your desk. A laptop, a shopping bag, an open notebook with doodles on the margins, an uncapped black pen, and a pack of gum. He presses his forefinger to the point of the pen, drawing a tiny heart by touch. Then he stamps the heart among all your misshapen stars and imaginary flowers. You might just think it’s an ink smear, but he hopes you look at it and smile.

You hit three hundred and forty-seven before you begin to sound drowsy. Hyunjin stands at the foot of your bed, watching as you finally drift off in the middle of three hundred and ninety-three. Serenity settles across your features.

“I’m sorry for what I did earlier. Good night and sweet dreams,” he whispers. He pats the corner of your bed before flying off into the night.

He needs to see Jeongin.

It was hard not to notice you when you were on a collision course with Jeongin. You were going too fast, and Hyunjin’s wings couldn’t carry him to Earth in milliseconds. With horror, he watched as you sharply turned the building corner on your skateboard and just barely jumped off in time when you saw Jeongin about to make the same turn.

“You okay?” Jeongin asked as he hurried to stop your runaway board.

“I should be asking you that!” you exclaimed as you followed him. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have veered that close to the wall. You’re not hurt or anything, right?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry.”

“Good. I can’t risk getting sued again.” Unsure of how to respond, Jeongin nudged back your board to you. You neatly stopped it mid-roll with your foot. “Thanks, by the way. See you around.”

“Yeah, see you.”

You kicked off, but before you left the area, you turned around and gave him a wave. Jeongin waved back, albeit more shyly than you. After a moment’s hesitation, he yelled out, “Be careful!”

“I’ll try!”

Jeongin laughed and turned the corner, looking at the brick wall with more wistfulness than most people usually did. Before he entered the building, he peeked around the next corner, as if he expected you to come speeding by again. You didn’t.

After that, he noticed you more often, usually swerving around strangers as you cut through campus. Whenever he had the opportunity to say hello, he did so with a smile, and you returned it with a waggle of your fingers before disappearing into the crowd. Once, you nearly crashed into a railing. You laughed it off and gave him another wave along with a funny face. Hyunjin felt something inside him melt. Jeongin must have too since he headed to his next class with the most lovestruck expression Hyunjin had ever seen on him.

It was then that Jeongin began forming a plan.

Two weeks after the first meeting, Jeongin waited in the quad for you to show up. Just as he hoped, you came walking down the steps fifteen minutes later, skateboard tucked underneath your arm. It was supposed to seem like a coincidence, but Hyunjin had followed Jeongin as he scoured nearby skate spots, asking around about you. Yesterday, he had learned where you liked to practice tricks. He got up from his bench, hands hidden behind his back, and approached you with the same moves and confidence he had rehearsed in the bathroom mirror.

“Hey! How have you been?” he called up from the very bottom.

Meanwhile, Hyunjin groaned. Jisung, who Hyunjin had tracked down two days prior to this, also did so.

“You said he was a charmer,” Jisung complained. “Look at him. He can’t even charm dogs with a treat.”

“For your sake, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. Just wait though. It’s going to get better.”

Jisung huffed. “It better. She deserves the best.”

Fortunately, you took it all in stride and waved hello at Jeongin. When you were finally beside him, you answered, “I’ve been good, thanks. You’re not here to sue me, right?”

“No! I was actually wondering if you could teach me how to skateboard. If you have time, that is.”

“Really? But I almost killed you that one time. I mean, I’d be happy to, but it’s kind of weird after what happened.”

“I’d rather skateboard than walk, and you seem pretty good at it.”

You shifted your weight to one foot, and Hyunjin chuckled when he saw Jeongin’s eyes wander to your jutted-out hip. Jisung made a noise of disapproval.

“Okay, what is this really about?”

“Skateboarding,” Jeongin said. Then he took a step closer and held out a bundle of daisies towards you. “And lunch, if you want.”

You broke out into a grin. “I am a little hungry right now. L/N Y/N, skateboarding extraordinaire and ramen enthusiast, at your service.”

“Yang Jeongin, also a ramen enthusiast. Nice to officially meet you.”

Jeongin is still sleeping at his desk when Hyunjin arrives. He shifts and exhales when the wind from Hyunjin’s wings create a small breeze but does not wake.

“How could you break up with her?” Hyunjin says. “She’s amazing and wonderful, and you decide that you don't want to be with her? Sometimes I wonder what’s going on in your head.”

Silence.

“If I were human, I would have never done that, but…”

Jeongin shifts again, burying himself deeper into the crumpled hoodie he’s using as a pillow. The table squeaks, and a mechanical pencil rolls off the desk. Hyunjin quietly places the pencil back to its initial place and shuts off the lamp.

“Take care of yourself, and make good choices, okay? I can’t do that for you.”

Instead of flying back to Heaven, he perches on the roof of the building across from Jeongin’s. Jeongin finally wakes up and notices that his light is off. He glances at it confusedly for a few seconds, wondering if he misremembered leaving it on. In the end, he decides it’s not worth the effort and falls into his bed. He didn’t even spare you a thought, a crime in Hyunjin’s eyes.

Then he realizes he may have a bigger problem on his hands.

Jisung.

Jisung is going to be very upset when he finds out about this.

Over the weekend, you brought Jeongin to the quad to learn the basics.

“Put both feet on the board now,” you said as you walked alongside a skateboarding Jeongin. He was borrowing yours to practice, so he treated it with more reverence than a well-used board would need. Even though he was pushing with his back foot, he was going at a snail’s pace.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m going to lose my balance and fall.”

Perhaps it wasn’t reverence after all.

You shook your head. “No, you won’t. You’re not going that fast anyway. You can just step off if you really feel like you are. Give it a shot.”

To his credit, Jeongin lifted his foot a few centimeters off the ground before planting it back. “I’m going to lose control.”

While you did your best to persuade Jeongin to give it another try, Jisung gave Hyunjin a dissatisfied look. “I remember you telling me he was a daredevil. What is happening?”

He didn’t exactly know either. “He’s in front of his crush; give him a break.”

“These two better not end up dating. She deserves so much better than him.”

Hyunjin gave him a dirty look, Jisung gave him a “What? It’s true” type of a shrug.

You step in front of the board. “How about this?” you said. “You stand on the board with both feet, and I’ll pull you along so you can get used to the feeling and be less of a scaredy cat.”

“Okay.”

You took both of his hands and slowly guided him backwards. At the same time, you instructed him to put more weight on one side to change directions. Jeongin was surprisingly stable, and Hyunjin watched proudly as his human suggested that you increase your speed a little.

“See? It’s not bad?” you said. “Keeping balance isn’t that hard, right?”

“Yeah. Also,” he grinned, his meek demeanor completely gone, “we’re holding hands now.”

Your eyes widened as you glanced down at your joined hands, and you let out a delighted gasp. “You sneaky little—” Much to Jeongin’s alarm, you let go and smirked. “If you go past the bench without constantly pushing, I’ll let you hold my hand when you walk me home.”

“Kind of presumptuous of you to assume that I would offer to walk you home,” he teased, resting one foot on the floor. “Or is that what you want me to do?”

“You asked me to lunch with flowers. You were going to.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Then he kicked off, skating past the bench with ease. Still going, he looked over his shoulder and shouted, “Do you want to grab doughnuts before you head home?”

“Watch the lamp!” you yelled as you ran towards him. “Jeongin, stop looking at me and turn around!”

The collision with the lamppost was unavoidable, so Hyunjin simply watched as Jeongin took a flying leap off your board and took a tumble on the concrete. While you fumbled for band aids — Jeongin’s knee was scraped and bloody — Jeongin patted his pockets to check that his phone had not fallen out.

“So doughnuts?” he sheepishly asked.

“Sure. I’ll buy.” You finally found one hidden in the bottom of your backpack along with an alcohol wipe. “Guess you get to hold my hand after all.”

“How are you so prepared?” he asked, nodding to the contents you had unceremoniously dumped out whilst rummaging. “You have tweezers and gauze?”

“My mom made me carry a first-aid kit with me when she found out that I skate to class. It comes in handy.” You ripped open the package. “This might hurt.”

“You can kiss it to feel better.”

You laughed and pressed the alcohol wipe to his knee. “You’re such a flirt, I love it. Does it hurt?”

“Yeah, hurts a lot.”

You opted to kiss the band aid instead, causing Jeongin to pout and Jisung to sigh in relief. When you stuck it onto his skin, Jeongin made a big production of being relieved from pain, which made you laugh and shove him.

“No! She’s in love with him,” Jisung groaned. His wings drooped, and Hyunjin swore his halo actually dimmed when you kept your hands in Jeongin’s after you pulled him up. “Well, Hyunjin, looks like you and I are going to be best friends.”

Hyunjin personally saw no issue with that. Like Jeongin, he had been charmed by your antics and your easygoing nature. Protecting his human’s friends, family, or lovers wasn’t part of Hyunjin’s duty, but he felt compelled to watch over you too.

Because if he were human, he would have fallen in love with you too.

In the midst of his lamenting, Jisung flies down and sits beside him on the roof. His wings are still slightly gray, and Hyunjin strangely begins to feel self-conscious of his pure white ones.

“Didn’t the Archangel forbid you from doing frivolous things?” Jisung says in lieu of a greeting. “I saw you at her apartment earlier.”

“I just wanted to check up on her. Not that I thought you lied,” he hastily adds. “I wanted to see for myself. She’s a little… distraught.”

“She got into a fight with her boyfriend. It’s normal.” When Hyunjin doesn’t reply or even make a sound, he grows concerned. “Is it something else? She’s getting sued, isn’t she? I knew it was going to happen someday. When I find that smug richie-rich, I’m going to—”

“Jeongin broke up with her.”

“What.”

Hyunjin repeats his sentence, trying to block the view of Jeongin’s bedroom with his body. Jisung looks like he’s ready to rain judgement onto him, and while Hyunjin is rather good at his job, he’s not sure if he can hold back an enraged guardian angel. Jisung takes several deep breaths before regaining the little composure he can muster.

“I knew I hated him for a reason. I knew he didn’t deserve her,” he spits out, though the venom in his voice wavers. “Why would he even break up with her? She loved him so much.”

Hyunjin shrugs. “That’s what I want to find out.”

“When you find out, let me know. I’m going to see her now.”

Hyunjin stays on the roof until sunrise. Jeongin sleeps without any trouble, and when he wakes up, he looks fresh-faced, no guilt hanging over his head. Hyunjin feels something inside him cracking apart.

You truly don’t deserve this.

“Do you think they’re going to crash and burn?” Jisung asked as he studied you and Jeongin walking through the park, practically glued to each other’s sides. “I think they’re moving too fast. It’s only been a month.”

Hyunjin really didn’t care about that. As long as you and Jeongin were happy, he was happy. “A month is a pretty long time for them. Mortal lives are short.”

“Exactly. They should be more selective about their life choices.”

Hyunjin only rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to you. You were pointing at the tiny carousel in the middle and tugging at Jeongin’s sleeve. You dragged him over and pushed a coin into the slot for the ride. The lights lit up and a carnival theme played while you struggled to wedge yourself between the saddle of an elephant and the roof of the carousel. Jeongin sat on the edge, beside the tiger, and chuckled at your flailing limbs.

Hyunjin suppressed his own laugh. You were something special. Just last week, the two of you had made it official and started dating. You had done it in the sweetest possible way.

You had taken him to a local skateboarding shop to help him pick out his first board. Once he had chosen one — the ‘one’ being a light blue deck patterned with multicolored doughnuts — the staff at the shop sent him to the back to try it out. Meanwhile, you made the age-old excuse of needing to use the restroom when you were actually getting the flowers you had hidden in the back.

Hyunjin had turned into a pile of fluff when you gave Jeongin the daisy bouquet and asked if he wanted to officially be your boyfriend. You were so earnest. Jeongin playfully pretended to think it over, a feat Hyunjin knew he wouldn’t have been able to do if he were in his position. There were no fireworks or confetti when Jeongin finally said yes, but the staff did clap and cheer. Jisung looked on with contempt. Hyunjin looked on with envy.

“You know,” Jisung abruptly said, snapping Hyunjin back to the present, “when her last boyfriend broke up with her, she had ice cream for dinner for a week.”

“Oh.”

“You see why I’m being wary of him now?”

Hyunjin did, but Jeongin was different. His previous relationships always ended well, and on one occasion, he remained friends with his ex. He sighed and decided that a change of topic was necessary so he wouldn’t have to potentially endure a tirade. “Did you hear about Minho’s human? The bank he worked at got robbed, and he got held at gunpoint.”

That caught the overprotective Jisung’s ear. “What? Is he okay?”

During Hyunjin’s recountment of Minho’s recountment, the carousel ride ended. You squeezed out of your spot, hitting your head on the roof, and Jeongin pulled you in for a forehead kiss. The world grew brighter when you smiled, he realized.

Hyunjin shadows Jeongin around all day, hoping to learn the reason for the breakup. Unfortunately, Jeongin doesn’t say anything. He does show some regret though, as he scrolls through past messages and old pictures. When he heads to classes, he opts to walk instead of skateboarding like usual and avoids the quad whenever possible.

In the evening, while Jeongin is chewing on his salad like a cow to cud, Hyunjin pays you a visit. He finds in the freezer section of the grocery store with three pints of ice cream in your basket. From the looks of it, you’re about to add another three to your haul. Peanut butter pretzel sounds equal parts delicious and confusing.

Hyunjin studies your expression, frowning at the same time you do. Your eyes are ringed with red, your jaw tight, and your eyebrows seem permanently furrowed. When he follows you back home, he half expects you to start crying on the way, but you hold fast and manage to open a pint of the salted caramel flavor before the tears finally come. There’s no wailing, just sniffling and the sound of you furiously wiping at your face with the sleeve of your hoodie. In the midst of it all, you find the strength to reorganize the freezer to make space for the other pints. Something about that makes Hyunjin’s heart drop.

By the time your roommate discovers you in the kitchen, the entire refrigerator has been reorganized and the ice cream finished. You sit in a dark room, your finger hovering above the ‘SEND’ button of a message to Jeongin. Hyunjin can see it if he flies above you: “Can you please just tell me why? You keep saying you did something wrong, but I don’t even know what it is. Please let me decide if it’s worth breaking up over.”

“Rough day?” she gently asks as she flips on the switch.

“Yeah.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Maybe tomorrow. I just wanna process it right now,” you hollowly say. You grab your skateboard — the same black, paint-splattered one you had last year — and unlock the front door. “I’m going out for a ride, but I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

“Stay safe.”

After you leave, Jisung phases through the kitchen walls and hisses at Hyunjin, “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Jeongin?”

He nearly forgot about him. Eating dinner isn’t a dangerous task anyway though. Besides, if Jeongin does get physically harmed somehow, Hyunjin will feel an echo of the pain. Hyunjin glances at the door, and Jisung shakes his head.

“I’ll take care of her. Go back to Jeongin, and make sure he’s okay. You can’t keep leaving him all the time.”

“Fine, I’ll go.”

“Good.”

Hyunjin reluctantly goes back to Jeongin, who is still eating his salad. His resolve from last night is clearly gone as evidenced by his melancholy expression as he scrolls through even more photos. The one of you in mid-air makes him clutch his phone.

“Let me get one of you when you’re really high up,” Jeongin suggested. He was comfortable gliding around on a skateboard now, but nowhere comfortable enough to try any tricks. Nevertheless, that didn’t stop you from trying to get him to learn. The “pop shove it” was your favorite, solely for the amount of height you could get.

“Okay.”

As you did over and over again for your enthusiastic boyfriend who was unfortunately not that great of a photographer, Hyunjin observed from a rooftop behind Jeongin. Sometimes you looked like you were flying. He could imagine wings protruding from your back, and if the sun hit you just right, there appeared to be a halo as well.

“I got one!” Jeongin exclaimed as he held up his device to you. “Look.”

Hyunjin couldn’t see for himself, but your mouth dropped into an ‘o’ once you took a first glance. A flustered smile made its way onto your face, and everything about you turned soft.

“This looks amazing,” you said. You sidled up to him and rested your cheek against his shoulder, turning your head towards him. “I love you.”

The words hung in the air for a few seconds as both Hyunjin and Jeongin tried to process them. This was the first time you had ever said them, and it came seemingly out of nowhere. Hyunjin recovered first.

“Say ‘I love you’ back, you moron,” Hyunjin whispered, like Jeongin would be able to hear him from this distance. “‘I love you too.’”

“I wanted to say it first,” Jeongin finally said. “Ugh, I had it all planned out too. We were supposed to get doughnuts after this, and I was going to buy you one of those heart-shaped ones.”

You kissed him on the cheek and intertwined your fingers with his. “We can still do that.”

At the doughnut shop, he said the words second, and you kissed him again, leaving a crystal of glaze on the corner of his mouth. Hyunjin licked his lips as if you had left it on him instead.

“Did you find out?” Jisung asks when Hyunjin leaves Jeongin to check up on you. You’re skating around the city, making sharp swerves and weaving in-between lampposts. Jisung is trailing behind you in the sky, but he slows when he sees Hyunjin approaching.

“No, but—”

“Then go back to him. Hyunjin,” Jisung sighs, “I know you care about her, but she’s not your human. Jeongin’s your responsibility.”

“I know but—”

“Go back. And I’m telling you this not as your friend but as your senior. You’re a guardian angel, and you need to take your responsibilities seriously. I’ll get the Archangel involved if I have to. Do you want to get Seungminned?”

The threat of the Archangel strangely doesn’t scare him anymore, however. In fact, the Archangel being involved may solve many of his current issues.

“I’ll find you again when I find out,” Hyunjin slowly says.

Jisung nods in approval before racing after you again. Hyunjin heads to Heaven, not to keep an eye over his human but to become human.

Ten months into Jeongin’s relationship with you, Hyunjin asked Minho, “Is it possible to give up your divinity?”

Minho gave Hyunjin a curious look. “Is being a guardian angel that taxing for you? You haven’t even experienced a full lifespan yet. I know, twenty year-olds are annoying, but it’s not nearly as bad as forty year-olds and their mid-life crisis.”

“I’m just curious. Or, as a last resort,” he added, hoping that Minho would stop being suspicious if he joked about it. “My human’s been making some dumb choices.”

A lie, but Minho fell for it.

“I told you he was going to be a troublemaker!” he cackled. He sympathetically patted Hyunjin’s back. “If I’m being honest, I thought about it a few times. I always get assigned to the troublemakers. Probably because the higher-ups hate me for not tolerating their BS. They’re always playing favorites. Anyway, the easiest way is to get expelled by the Archangel. It’s happened a few times before.”

“Can’t you just ask him?”

Minho smirked. “You don’t think other angels have tried that? He only expels the ones who don’t want to be. It’s supposed to be a punishment.”

“What’s the hard way then?”

“Same thing minus the Archangel getting involved: your wings getting cut off,” he matter-of-factly answered. “The halo will break once your wings are detached. It’s only been done once, by the way.”

Hyunjin absentmindedly rubbed the area where the bones of his wings met with his shoulder blades. All he needed were two clean cuts across his practically impenetrable back.

“How do you do that?”

“With the Archangel’s sword. Another angel has to cut it though; you can’t do it yourself.”

The Archangel would likely banish him to Hell for even asking about his weapon. If Hyunjin ever did manage to steal the sword away, Jisung would never agree to it. He couldn’t just ask any angel to help him.

“How do you know about all this?” Hyunjin asked.

Minho hesitated, something he rarely did. He quickly recovered, hiding his sudden apprehension with his usual devil-may-care nonchalance. “I can’t give away all of my secrets.”

“We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Friends. The word hung in the air like the sun, and Hyunjin knew that Minho would tell him because underneath all of his bluster was loneliness. Because no one liked Minho, or if they did, they still avoided him anyway.

“Yeah, we are,” Minho answered, smiling for a second before a strange expression crossed over his face, pride mixed with a touch of sadness. “Do you really think the Archangel would have expelled one of his favorite guardian angels that easily?”

“Who are you talking about?”

“Seungmin. He asked me to cut his wings for him.”

“I need you to cut my wings,” are Hyunjin’s first words to Minho after not speaking to him for days.

To his credit, Minho is only speechless for a few seconds. The dove in his hand pecks at him for more headpats before he recovers. “Well, do you have the sword?”

“No, but I think I can get it. When I do though, would you do it? You’re the only one I trust.”

Minho sighs and tosses the bird out of Heaven, grimacing a bit when he hears it squawk. When he faces Hyunjin, he smiles the same smile he did when he talked about Seungmin. “It’s always me, huh? I’ll do you one better. I’ll steal the sword for you. The Archangel’s been pissing me off anyway.”

For once, Hyunjin’s thoughts are not on you but his friend. He imagined that Minho would be willing, but perhaps he’s too willing. “Are you trying to get expelled as well? We can go together.”

“No, I like being immortal. I hate all of the BS I get put through sometimes, but the Archangel can’t kick me out. He swore an oath to me a long time ago before he got promoted, and it’s pretty much unbreakable. Besides, even Heaven needs a scapegoat.”

That explains why virtually no angels interact with Minho, Hyunjin being the exception. He has never heard of the Archangel being oathsworn, though it seems likely that the Archangel wants to keep that a secret.

“How are you going to get it?” Hyunjin asks. “How did Seungmin even get it? The Archangel always has it with him.”

“Seungmin was one of his favorites,” Minho reminds him. “He had easy access to him, and the Archangel trusted him enough to let him borrow it for ‘a study.’ Don’t worry about me though. Just wait for me on Earth. Somewhere where no one goes. I’ll find you, slice off your wings, and the Archangel won’t even know what happened to you.”

“That’s not possible. He always keeps it on him.”

Minho shrugs, a gleam in his eyes. “I’ve done it before. Why do you think I’m the scapegoat?”

Seungmin. For Minho and now Hyunjin, being Seungminned didn’t mean being expelled for being frivolous anymore; it meant leaving of your own accord.

“What happened to him?” Hyunjin asked. “Why didn’t the Archangel grant his divinity back? Someone should have spotted him on Earth.”

Minho’s wry grin was back. “You think the Archangel wanted everyone to find out the golden boy of Heaven no longer wanted to be an angel? Plenty of angels already saw him roaming Earth. It was easier to let everyone think that Seungmin was banished. So when they saw him on Earth, he was just a fallen angel, nothing important.” He nudged Hyunjin’s arm, and the solemn atmosphere vanished. “A troublemaking human isn’t all that bad. Like I said, the twenties are annoying, but they’re manageable. Is he one of those partying types?”

“He goes out sometimes,” Hyunjin carefully replied. Jeongin liked hanging out with his friends and you — mostly you, now that Hyunjin thought about it — but he wasn’t getting blackout drunk every night. At least, Hyunjin hoped he wasn’t. He usually watched over you if you were ever in the vicinity. “Speaking of which, I should check up on him.”

Minho said his goodbyes, and Hyunjin flew back to Earth once he saw that you weren’t with Jeongin. You were studying at your desk, rolling a pen between your fingers, reading through a document on your laptop. The desk light casted a warm glow on your face. You frowned, and your lower lip swelled outwards.

He wished he were human.

Just as Minho said, Hyunjin waits for him to arrive in a secluded part of the university campus. The building rooftop is devoid of anyone, and the area surrounding it is empty as well. The evening turns into night, then night into the early morning when the sky begins lightening. Still, Minho has not come.

He distantly wonders how Jeongin is faring and his promise to Jisung. When he’s human, he’ll ask Jeongin directly, maybe in disguise of a survey: “Why did you break up with your last partner?” Even to him, it sounds stupid. However, that’s not the real reason why he’s giving up his divinity, so it hardly matters to him. Jisung is resourceful; he’ll find out eventually.

Finally, when the sun peeks over the horizon, Minho descends from Heaven, a familiar silver sword in his hand. He lands beside Hyunjin, a triumphant smile on his face. But his usual humor has been replaced with solemnity.

“You’re sure about this?” he asks as he rests the blade on the top of Hyunjin’s wings.

He has never felt so sure of anything in his life. “Yes.”

“It’s going to hurt.”

“Then make it quick.”

Searing pain shoots through his body as the sword pierces through the thin skin and into the bone. The process is not as nearly as seamless as Hyunjin hoped it would be, and Minho breathes heavily as he pushes the blade down. Bones snap, feathers drift to the floor, and blood trickles down his back. The pain only grows greater near the end, but Hyunjin grits his teeth and keeps quiet. Dawn breaks when his wings finally fall to the floor, no longer white but splattered with red. Soon they fade into dust, and the remnants scatter into the wind. His golden halo shatters into sunlight. The world dulls as the last of his powers disappear, but everything feels much better than when he was an angel.

“Thank you,” he whispers to Minho, who he cannot even look at anymore. His eyes would be burned.

“You’re fallen, not quite mortal and not quite divine. You won’t be affected by all of an angel’s power.”

When Hyunjin cautiously glances at him, Minho waves the bloody sword at him. “See?”

“Yeah.” He wanted humanity, but this is good enough for him. He just needs you to be able to see him, hear him, touch him.

“I need to go back before Heaven becomes Hell, but find Seungmin if you can. He can help you figure things out. Last I heard, he’s living somewhere in the mountains.”

“Thank you,” he repeats. “Minho, I can’t even put it into words about how much this means to me. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

Minho pats his shoulder before stripping off his clean shirt. “Clean yourself before you leave. No one wants to witness a walking crime scene this early in the morning.”

When he flies back to Heaven, the last thing Hyunjin sees are his wings, still pure white.

“Hey,” you said as you laced your fingers with Jeongin’s. He had just finished class, and you had waited for him outside the building. Hyunjin had sat on the other end of the bench, savoring the proximity. That was the closest he would ever get to you. “Are you busy tonight? The skate shop just announced — literally an hour ago, those jerks — that they were doing a midnight drop, and I kind of want a new deck.”

“Ugh, I’ve been meaning to buy new trucks, but I have to meet up with my group tonight. Send me pictures though.”

Disappointment only momentarily flooded through Hyunjin. If it was anything like the last two meetups, it would be at the library, and the library was a safe place. Jeongin would be fine there. Hyunjin would be free to shadow you as you went to the skate shop.

“I can get it for you,” you offered.

He shook his head. “It’s fine. Maybe I’ll just wait for a sale.”

“Don’t be surprised if I do get you new trucks,” you warned. You let go of his hand and held his arm. “I still owe you for last month’s dinner.”

Jeongin shook his head again, a smile making its way onto his face. “You don’t owe me anything but a kiss.”

“Flirt,” you laughed as you pressed your lips to his cheek. “Never change, Yang Jeongin.”

That night at the skate shop, Hyunjin hovered above you as you stood in line, chatting with others. There were no unscrupulous characters around, but he stayed with you, only going back to Jeongin when Jisung insisted. However, by then, Hyunjin had already seen you eyeing the shiny teal trucks through the window. Hyunjin knew nothing about skateboards even after all those months, but you seemed pleased by them.

“You’re only getting trucks for sure?” your brand new acquaintance asked. “This is, like, the biggest drop they’ve ever done.”

You shrugged. “I’m kind of on the fence about the decks I saw on the email. I don’t know. Maybe wheels too?”

Meanwhile, Jisung hissed, “Hyunjin, go before something happens. What if a fight breaks out?”

Hyunjin sincerely doubted that one would happen at the library. He lingered around, taking his time unfolding his wings and stretching them.

“Your boyfriend’s lucky,” your acquaintance sighed.

“Nah, I’m the lucky one.”

Daisies, that’s what he needs right now. Choosing the rooftop of a building was not a smart decision, but the access door is thankfully unlocked, and Hyunjin races down all of the emergency stairs. However, with no form of currency on him, Hyunjin heads to the quad, hoping that he can pull up some dandelions for you. You need to be supported, and bright yellow flowers are just the thing.

What he doesn’t expect though, is to find you doing pop shove its at your usual spot. It’s so early in the day; did you even go back to your apartment to sleep?

“Good morning,” he calls as he walks closer. He waves at you, and you can see him! You tentatively wave back and give him a halfhearted smile. “How are you today? You look beautiful.”

“Thanks, and I’m fine,” you politely reply as you take a step back away from him. “What about you?”

Hyunjin curses in his head and takes another step towards you. “I’m good. Really good, actually. I was wondering if you could teach me how to skateboard. I’m new here, and skateboarding seems like an efficient way to get around.”

You flinch at his words, and he desperately wants to take them back. How did Jeongin do it? Why do his statements come out so stiff? “You seem pretty good at it.”

“Are you not cold?” you blurt out. Hyunjin curses again as he realizes that he’s shirtless. His old one was stained, and Minho’s was as well as the result of his cleanup. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. “You know, I have to get going, but it was nice meeting you.”

“Hyunjin. My name’s Hyunjin.”

“Nice meeting you, Hyunjin.”

You grab your board and immediately head off to the direction of your apartment. Hyunjin is tempted to follow, but he stays where he is. A bad first impression isn’t the end of the world. The only thing holding him back is his lack of a shirt.

He wanders through the quad, scanning the grass for some flowers. Most of them are the white, fluffy dandelions, but he needs the bright yellow version. However, he takes the white ones anyway in case he can’t find any. The wind scatters the seeds, and he—

“Hyunjin, I told you not to come back.”

Jisung.

Hyunjin turns around, dropping his bouquet onto the ground. To his horror, not only is Jisung present but also the Archangel. His sword is strapped to his side like usual, not a blood splatter tainting it. Minho did an excellent job of cleaning up the crime scene.

“Jisung, Archangel,” Hyunjin nervously greets. The Archangel frightens him now. “How can I help you?”

“Jisung, why did you bring me here?” the Archangel asks. “I have other things to attend to.”

“He’s abandoned his human too many times, and I don’t think he’s fit to be a guardian angel anymore.”

The Archangel grasps the hilt of his sword and studies Hyunjin, up and down, back and forth. He circles him, and Hyunjin can almost feel his mortality-divinity shining through his body. Jisung hasn’t noticed yet, but there is no doubt the Archangel hasn’t.

“Normally,” the Archangel begins, “the punishment for not fulfilling your duties as a guardian angel is being expelled from Heaven. But you have already fallen.”

“What?” comes Jisung’s shocked voice.

“It was a mistake,” Hyunjin tries. Minho’s words ring in his ear: He only expels the ones who don’t want to be. “I thought I wanted humanity, but I’ve realized that being a guardian angel is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Please. Grant me my divinity back. I will never abandon my human again. I will swear an oath if I have to.”

The Archangel smiles with no teeth, and a chill runs down Hyunjin’s spine. “I’m in a forgiving mood today, so I will do just as you ask. Your divinity will be granted back, but you will no longer be a guardian angel. I’m stripping you of those powers and those duties. You will be replaced immediately. It was my mistake for tasking you with such a large responsibility when you weren’t ready yet.”

With just a snap of the Archangel’s fingers, Hyunjin’s senses sharpen, and the world comes hurtling at him. Nothing is dull anymore, but everything feels so dark and wrong. You will never be able to see him, hear him, or talk to him again. And he will never be able to either. Power surges inside of him, and new wings burst through his shoulder blades, fanning out once they reappear. A silver halo hangs over his head. There is no physical pain into becoming immortal again, yet he wishes there was something. Everything he and Minho did was erased with ease.

Hyunjin swallows the lump in his throat. “Thank you,” he chokes out.

“You’re very welcome. Come along now. Only guardian angels are allowed to be on Earth.”

Hyunjin follows the Archangel back to Heaven while Jisung goes after you. The Archangel loudly deliberates on who he should be replaced with, and Hyunjin knows that his request was not granted with kindness. The Archangel informs that he will be a messenger again. Hyunjin barely hears him as he takes one last look at Earth. Jeongin is there. Jisung is there. You are there.

Hyunjin avoids Minho’s eyes as he flies inside the realm behind the Archangel and hides among the rest of the regular angels until he is called to send a message. The higher-ups recognize him, make snide remarks about his demotion, and make pitiful faces at him. He barely registers them. There is a hollowness in him, and no matter how many memories he recalls, it isn’t enough to fill the void.

A few weeks later, Jisung approaches him, but even he stays a healthy distance away. “Hyunjin.” The disdain is clear.

“Jisung.”

“You knew about the reason all along, didn’t you? You were there when it happened.”

“When what happened?”

Realization dawns upon Jisung, and he shakes his head in disgust. “I should have known. You weren’t with him that night because you left him like you always did! You could have done something. Make him fall off his chair or something. Make the girl lose her balance. Instead, both of our humans suffered because you weren’t there.”

“What happened?”

“A girl from his group project randomly kissed him, and he thought he had been leading her on and cheating on his own girlfriend, so he broke up with her because he thought that would be the right thing to do instead of just telling her what actually happened. They’re back together now because he finally got the nerve to give her closure. It took nearly a month. They were miserable for a month. All because of you.”

It stings. “They’re okay now, right?”

“They’re fine, no thanks to you.” Just when Hyunjin thinks he’s going to leave, he takes a step forward, lips curled into sneer. “You know, angels and humans aren’t allowed to be with each other. It’s been forbidden for millenia.”

“I know,” he whispers. “But I loved her, and I had to try.”

“She would have never chosen you anyway.”

He never had a chance, did he?

~ ad.gray

Yes, you did! I remembered it and wondered if you were going to come back! Hope you enjoyed this! <3

#stray kids #skz #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #stray kids angst #skz angst #hyunjin angst #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #skz fanfic #skz scenarios #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin x reader #guardian angel au #anniversary special #20210816

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creweemmaeec11 · 3 years

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My favourite prompts:

A list of my favourite prompts that I’ve posted in the past, all curated into a huge list just for you guys!

Finally, the day has come. The villain is thought to be dead. The hero has won.

Until suddenly the hero learns the villain left them EVERYTHING in their will. Made them the owner and operator of all their illegal business.

Obviously, the hero plans to shut everything down immediately. But they quickly realize just how many people the villain employed… how many family’s they fed…

“You kissed me,”

“I did… and?”

“What-!? What do you mean and!?,”

“What more do you want?”

“An explanation would be a good start!”

“…or I could just do it again…”

*other person turns bright red,*

“Or… or that, I suppose,”

“What the hell are you doing here!?”

“I think the better question would be what in the hell are you wearing,” the villain replied, amusement clear on their face, like they were struggling to keep from laughing.

“What- it’s-” the hero blushed, remembering what they were wearing, “their pajamas! What are you-!”

“Oh my god…” the villain replied, like they were struggling to come to terms with what they were seeing, “the hero of the city not only own, but wears a onesie,”

“Excuse me!” The hero snapped in defence, “They’re comfortable!”

“They? You have more??”

“I gotta say hero,” The villain mused as they casually moved toward the cell bars, “I’ve been called many things in my life: monster, villain, outcast, loser, scoundrel,” they tilted their head, examining the hero before them, “but ‘our last hope?’” *clicks tongue* “that’s a first,”

You live in a world where anyone born with superpowers must become a super hero. It doesn’t matter what the power is, or how small it is, it is mandatory. It was deemed that having anyone with superpowers work alongside regular people was “unsafe” and “unfair.” Every year, dozens of superhero’s with powers useless for fighting are killed. You’ve managed to make it this long with nobody finding out you have a superpower. But how much longer can you hide in plain sight?

The city’s villain mysteriously disappears and hasnt been seen in a week. The people are celebrating, but the hero is worried. What if the villain is planning something big? Determined to stop whatever evil plan is brewing, the hero tracks the villain down, but they dont find what they expected. Instead of evil plotting, the villain:

-Has been taking care of a sick pet -Come down with the flu -Been helping arrange a friends wedding -Found out they were pregnant -Is getting married themselves -Mourning the death of a loved one -Has adopted a young pet and been occupied taking care of them -Has been helping one of their lackeys who’s in a desperate situation -Has been feeding the homeless and offering blankets

You’re the most wanted villain by all highest ranking authorities, but all the heros “just can’t seem to catch you” (they always let you get away) because all your crimes are things like stealing expensive medication and then donating it to hospitals, robbing toy stores and donating to orphanages, robbing banks and giving to charity, robbing grocery stores and feeding the homeless, ect

A hero/villain with the power to materialize their own tattoos. Got a wrench tattoo? Now you’ve got a wrench. Got a tattoo of wings? A bomb? A get away car? Well…

Dragon tattoos have always been popular, havent they?

Write about a genius inventor villain who, while watching the news, learns about a sick child in hospital doctors arnt sure they can cure. The villain realizes something theyve invented could cure the child. Now the hard part is convincing them to let the villain help.

The villain starts to notice the hero is feeling more down the usual, so they start leaving the hero little notes to cheer them up. All is going well until the hero figures out who is sending them.

In a world of magic users where everyone is divided into the 6 eye colours, and the colour of your eyes represents what your powers are. Each colour has an elemental power, can talk to a certain type of creature(Invertebrates, fish, amphibians, reptiles, birds, mammals), and has 3 other powers. For example, blue eyes control water, can commune with fish, etc. Everyone in the world has either red, orange, yellow, green, blue or purple eyes. Except for you, you were born with black eyes. Everyone is afraid of what your powers will be, but they should be more worried about the kind of creatures you can talk to…

A hero and a villain (and maybe their sidekicks, up to you) trapped in a haunted house or haunted location.

-One is scared so the other comforts them. They are both scared but trying to act like they aren’t. -One doesn’t believe in ghosts, and the other has the power to communicate with them or see them. -Ghosts aren’t real, but one continues to try and freak the other out, who claims they aren’t scared. -Ghost wingman. I need’ d say no more -One gets possessed, so the other has to do the whole ‘kiss to break a curse’ thing to bring them out of it. -The classic Person A thinks ghosts aren’t real so they prank Person B to scare them. Then shit gets real, but person B doesn’t believe person A, thinking its just another prank.

“I trusted you! You promised!”

“I kept my promise! I got you your results! Don’t question my methods from a top that high moral horse or yours, especially when the only reason you made a deal with me in the first place was because you were too much of a coward to do what needed to be done!”

The local wildfire has been growing out of control, forcing the city to have to evacuate. Suddenly, the villain with water powers shows up to lend a hand to fire fighters.

“Tell me hero,” the villain spoke, chains jangling from where they hung on the villains wrists as they walked up to the bars of the jail cell, “If you wanted to skip a press conference, could you?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re sisters getting married, but your needed for a big event at the hero academy that day. Would you be allowed to attend the wedding? What about if your brother stole a pack of gum. Could you let it slide? Not would you, but could you?”

The hero paused. Could they? They had responsibilities! They had commitments to the city, and to the serving of justice!

The villain laughed at the heros silence, “I may be in jail, but you’re more chained then I’ll ever be,”

“So tell me,” the villain drawled, dragging a finger across the heros skin, making them shiver, “what changed your mind?”

Hero discovers the villain has a day job. It isnt at all what they expected. (Day care, animal shelter, etc)

“What are you going to do if you beat me, and suddenly the city dosent need a hero? What are you going to do if you get hurt and can no longer fight, and the city forgets about you just like all the heros before you? Who will you be when your legacy crumbles under the weight of all those who follow? Will you take up knitting?”

The hero stared unblinking and frozen as the villain took a step forward.

“Sure, your a hero. But what are you without that?”

The villain took another step forward.

“Your nothing, heroism is all you have. That pathetic title you curl up to every night. But without it?” They looked the hero up and down, “Absolutely nothing…”

A villain retires from villainy and gets plastic surgery (or simply never showed their face) so they can live a normal life without being recognized. While living their new life, they bump into the hero, and the two start falling for eachother. But the villain is terrified of the hero finding out the truth

The hero slammed their front door as quickly as they could, eyes wide, heart pounding.

The villain. The villain was outside their door.

“Well that was rude,”

A hero with magic powers, in a world where magic is unheard of. They have always kept their powers a secret, fearing they would be shunned, or tested on. They never use their powers in battle.

One day, while practicing their magic alone in the woods, the villain appears out of nowhere.

Before the hero can explain, the villain asks, “you have powers too?”

A hero dies. Or at least, they think they do. The next thing they know they wake up at their own funeral. And the only person there? Is the villain.

“The worst part, is you had the nerve to call it love”

#hero x villain #prompts #prompt #writing prompt #writing prompts #story prompt #fic prompts #hero x villain prompts #hero x villain prompt

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imagine-that-100 · 3 years

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Stop It

Description: When bad habits come back, it leaves you with worries and feeling self-aware. But when your boyfriend spots this, he just has to prove you wrong.

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: This was requested by an Anon. Really hope this was okay, I tried my best with it. Hope everyone else enjoys and I’d love to know what you think! Thank you for reading x

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As a kid all you heard when it came to you and your little habit was, “Stop it.”

Picking and biting at your lips was something that had haunted you for as long as you could remember. Cracked and broken skin on your lips were almost a constant and it haunted you still even now.

After you’d been ill with the flu or a cold, or something your lips liked to taunt you. Even just after being out in the cold for too long without applying some lip balm.

It was a fucking pain.

And because they used to be in such a bad condition, you just assumed that once the dead skin was off you'd be fine. So picking at them and biting them seemed like it was helping.

Oh how wrong you were.

So that was when you got constant ‘Stop it’s from your parents and when you caught yourself doing it you said a silent ‘stop it’ to yourself.

And the past few days you’d fallen back into that bad habit because you’d just got over a cold. So when you were at work today, stressing out over a client, you caught yourself staring at your laptop with your elbow rested on your desk and your fingers on your lips, picking at a little piece of dry skin you’d found.

Stop it.

Then you caught yourself biting them later when you were trying to actually make the custom design for your client. Another ‘stop it’ filled your mind.

Then again on the phone to another client who was being rude.

Stop it.

And again, when you were driving back home to your boyfriend who’d just flew back in from a series of shows he’d done.

STOP IT!

All you wanted to do was be able to kiss your boyfriend, but no way would he want to go anywhere near you if your lips split. Thankfully the first day or two when Matty was back home your lips held out.

You tried your best to control your habit and with Matty distracting you from work stresses it became a little easier. But when you were at work and he obviously wasn’t around you fell back into old habits.

And after a particularly stressful day at work, you did the worst.

You accidently split your lip.

Never had you not wanted to go home to Matty more. He was affectionate with you in the best of ways and he almost always wanted a kiss and a cuddle when it was just the two of you alone together.

But you didn’t want to kiss him with your lips in the state they were. Despite trying every lip balm, lip scrub, and moisturizer, nothing had helped over the past few days they still fucking split.

You hated it, and you hated that it made you anxious for Matty to see you like that. Thankfully, he’d never seen you like this before but something in you made you think he’d want nothing to do with you.

Maybe it was your old anxiety creeping back in. Or maybe it was just the fear of rejection.

Whatever the reason, it made you want to hide yourself from the person you shouldn’t be hiding yourself from.

“Hey.” You called when you got home, knowing Matty was around somewhere.

“Hey.” Matty calls back from the lounge, “How was work?”

When you walk in and see your boyfriend with his long mop of curls, you smile saying, “Stressful.”

“Bastards being picky again?” Matty grins when his brown eyes connect with your Y/E/C ones.

You chuckle remembering you’d complained about your clients to him on multiple occasions. You loved your job but god you met some pretentious people along the way.

“Not more so than you when it comes to buying your vintage clothes.” You tease him, throwing your coat down on the settee before leaning over him and kissing the top of his head.

Matty playfully scoffs, “I’m not being picky, I just have taste.”

“Sure, that's what we'll call it.” You giggle as Matty pulls you down onto his lap so he could give you a hug.

His arms wrap around you and he buries his head into your neck. You smile, feeling him kiss your skin a few times but you just bury your nose into his soft curls that smell like his expensive almond conditioner, as you ask, “How’s your day been?”

“Boring without you here.” Matty tells you and even though he’s just being kind, it makes you smile.

As you ask, “How are the boys?” Matty’s lips slowly trace their way up your neck and to your jaw.

Your anxiety set in a bit then, knowing exactly where they were headed.

“They’re alright, I suppose.” Matty tells you, he kisses just under your ear before he says, “Wanna see you apparently.”

“Well that's no shock, they do love me more than they love you.” You joke.

Matty chuckles a little at that and kisses across your cheek as he whines, “You’re mineee.”

You giggle at that and throw your head laughing back just before his lips reach the corner of yours.

Matty chuckles too hearing your laugh and he kisses under your jaw whilst it’s exposed to him. Your laugh was so adorable, and he’d never tire of hearing it.

“Do you want a brew?” You ask the love of your life as you get up out of his lap.

Matty smiles, looking up at your gorgeous face, “I’d love a coffee please.”

You nod and head to the kitchen feeling a little relief that you’d got out of that one. You didn’t want him to be repulsed by the thought of kissing you, so you’d rather avoid kissing him instead.

But that turned out to be what gave you away.

That night you went to George’s for a Chinese with them all. Adam brought Carly with him so you ended up talking to her for most of the night to try and avoid PDA.

You just received passing kisses on the head or on the cheek that night, even when you crawled into bed later you just tucked your head under Matty’s chin and let sleep take over you quickly.

The following day you avoided them too and you thought you were being subtle about it. Sometimes you playfully dodged his kiss and kissed his cheek instead, and other times you made him kiss your cheek when he went in for one, because you’d put lip balm on.

But the day after you were still doing the same despite not being in a playful mood or having anything on your lips.

You were standing in your kitchen with Matty’s arms around your waist making the both of you an omelette for lunch. You’d told Matty to just take a seat at your kitchen table as he kept trying to distract you with hugs from behind and trying to lean over you and kiss your face.

You laugh but instruct him once more to sit himself down. After another minute of him pestering you, you nudge him with your hip to move himself over to the table and he finally lets go of you and lets you finish your delicious creation.

He says a thank you when you place it down in front of him and he was going to give you a kiss until you practically whipped yourself back to the kitchen counter, just ruffling his hair

“Hey.” Matty says to make you look over at him, and when you do, he asks, “What’s up?”

You put your own lunch on your plate and when you sit down on the seat at the end of the table, you say, “Nothing, why?”

Matty points out, “You've not let me kiss you for the past two days.”

You go quiet then feeling bad because you haven’t kissed your boyfriend. And for the fact you’d not been honest about it and its leading him to ask questions like, “Have I done something?

“No Matty.” You tell him softly, never wanting to make him think that.

You look into his gorgeous brown eyes and you can see he’s just curious about your behaviour. Usually you’re all over each other, but you have been pretty distant and with him only being back for 3 weeks it hurt your heart not to have him the way you wanted him.

But you’d rather not have the anxiousness that came with you being overly self-aware of your lips against his.

“Then what’s up?” Matty asks, watching as you avoid eye contact and just concentrate on your food.

You glance at his plate and see it’s going untouched, so you gesture to it saying, “I promise I’m fine, just eat before it goes cold.”

“Don’t tell me you've gone off me?” Matty says after a few seconds.

And when you just take a deep breath to try and think over another excuse, Matty asks, “Oh my god, have you?”

“No.” Your eyes snap up to his in panic. You didn’t want him to think that at all, so you repeat, “No, never.”

“Then what's up?” Matty chuckles and then noticing your look of panic he makes light of it asking, “I’m feeling very affection starved.”

You close your eyes, sighing, “Matty.”

“Come on, love.” Your boyfriend chuckles before taking your hand and asking again, “What’s up?”

“Is it not obvious?” You ask, feeling like your lips were really disgusting right now.

Matty shakes his head, “I’ve got no clue why you won't let me kiss you.”

After a deep breath you tell him the truth, “My lips are a fucking state.”

“Your lips are fine.” Matty frowns a little confused, looking down at them. “What do you mean?”

You say in a vulnerable voice, hating having to point it out, “Matty it’s split.”

Matty glances back down at then again and he reaches up to cup your jaw. You resist the urge to pull away from his reach because after all he was the person who knew you best.

His thumb comes up and runs across your bottom lip then and he shakes his head, “It's tiny.”

You shake your head a little so his thumb drops. He was being polite; it wasn’t tiny at all. The only highlight was that it was starting to heal.

You follow up with, “I hate it, they feel all dry and disgusting.”

“You’re thinking they are a lot worse than they are Darling. I don’t hate them at all.” Matty says, scooting his chair a little closer so he could easily trace your lips again.

He softly asks, a little more sympathetic, “Did you really not want to kiss me because of that?”

“It’s vile.” You shake your head.

“It’s not.” Matty says and then adds, “You’re my girlfriend, I wanna kiss you all the time.”

You put your hand over your lips and shake your head.

“Stop that.” Matty bats your hand away but as soon as he retreats you cover your lips again.

“Stop it.” Matty insists, pulling your hand down and keeping hold of it, “You don’t have to do that.”

You try to pull your hand away but when he doesn’t let you, so you just bring your other one up when you say, “I do because you keep looking.”

“Only because I want to kiss them.” Matty grins at you.

You shake your head and look back down. Noticing your plates are still full, you try to change the subject by saying, “The food’s going cold.”

“It’ll get colder if you don't give me a kiss.” Matty grins.

You sigh then, still feeling conscious and you’re about to protest but your boyfriend doesn’t let you retreat again.

“Y/N.” Matty says before you can protest, “I want to kiss you all the time.”

He then makes a pouty face at you then and puckers his lips making kissing noises at you. He gets you giggling within seconds and your heart swells with how lovely he’s being towards you.

Matty can obviously tell it's something you’re not comfortable about. But he didn’t care in the slightest.

He loved you with the whole of his heart and he’d do everything he could to make you love yourself as much as he loved you. And if that meant kissing your pretty lips every second of every day, he would do.

You chuckle at your boyfriend puckering his lips at you and you ask, “Even wanna kiss me when my lips are mingin’?”

“They’re not mingin’.” Matty assures you before he just abandons his chair and just kneels on the ground in front of you.

He still has a hold of your hand and he gives it a little squeeze before he assures you, “I love you Y/N, course I wanna kiss you.”

You smile at him then and when he actually goes go for the kiss Matty is really happy you don’t stop him. Your kiss was just as sweet as it usually was and Matty felt the excitement bubble away inside him like it always had at the mere thought of kissing you.

But Matty just kept his one sweet, making sure you were calm and relaxed. And he was pleased to know you were.

When Matty pulls away, he smiles, “See...? Wasn't so bad, was it?

Your cheeks go a little hot then, seeing how much adoration was in his eyes. You don't hesitate to tell him, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Matty grins, before cheekily asking, “Can you have another one?”

You giggle at his one-track mind, but you decide to make him wait. You pass him your plate and say, “After you warm up my eggs.”

Your boyfriend takes it with a laugh and grabs his own plate. But he steals one more kiss from his gorgeous girlfriend on the way back to the stove.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You can add yourself to my Taglists in my Masterlist x

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ogravensimp · 3 years

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this one is for@mistkissedmoon a lil more Dad!Constantine with a ft. from Jason Blood and John would be so terrible at taking care of ppl but still like really care, so I hope I captured that feeling in this

“This was your big emergency?”

Jason Blood gave a blank stare to the British man across from him.

He didn’t usually just drop everything to attend to someone; especially if that person was John Constantine, but ever since the exorcist decided to take care of the Gem of Scath he proposed it would be a good idea for John to keep him on speed dial.

He didn’t actually expect John to use said number.

Constantine was a demon expert in his own right. Jason believed that he was right to assume that the only reason his help would be sought after was only if the apocalypse had begun.

He felt a nerve in his temple twitch in annoyance (and, ashamedly in disappointment).

It's just that when John rang him and pressed for him to come to the House of Mystery, he had simply been expecting more...destruction. Maybe some blood and fire raining from the sky, the earth itself cracking open to release eldritch horrors of all kinds or even complete ripping of the fabrics of reality.

Anything along those lines would have justified his presence being required, but instead, he was met with-

“achoo!”

Jason looked down at the small form below him.

The spawn of evil incarnate was smaller than he thought it would be. If one ignored the glowing red gem wedged into its forehead, it could easily fool for another harmless 7-year old girl.

Especially as it laid half-dazed in its bed, staring up at the ceiling in a lucid trance. With only half its face poking out from under their star themed blanket, it sniffled pitifully due to the snot dripping out its flushed nose.

The room was perfectly mid-temperature, but the child has so drenched in sweat that even the towel on top of its forehead had over-soaked but yet it still shivered as if it was below -0 degrees.

Was the level of the child’s symptoms extreme? Yes.

Was it worth calling him for? Definitely not.

The daughter of Trigon was sick, yes, but it was obviously just the flu.

“That’s what I‘ve been saying.”

Jason turned to the source of the voice—a young woman stood in the doorway and held a tray of what seemed to be cups and bowls.

John had introduced her as Zed and he had just assumed they were in a relationship— to focused on the assumed threat to try to examine their personal lives.

Maybe he should’ve guessed this excursion would be a waste of time by Zed’s expressions. When he arrived she had shot him nothing but apologetic looks. At first, Jason believed the worst laid behind the doors he was led to but as he now knows, that was not the case.

“That idiot thinks it’s some paranormal curse,”, Zed huffed as she sent a glare at the blond man who began to try and defend himself.

“It's been weeks and she's still under the weather. You think Beelzebub gets the bloody sniffles?!”

“But a child of her age would! Especially one who reads in the tub and doesn't dry her hair before going outside in August,” Zed rolled her eyes as she spoke as if the answer was obvious—and they were, "maybe if you stopped treating her as the destroyer of worlds and instead as a 7-year-old, you won't have wasted the poor guys time."

Jason couldn't help but internally agree with her words.

John continued his defence, "All I'm saying is when I got a cold, I just carried on with my day maybe a bit foggy up there but hardly half-dead like Blackbird over 'ere."

Another eye roll from Zed was the only reply.

Approaching them, she extended the tray towards Jason. He gave a look at the cup of tea and noticed it seemed to be next to another 'sweat towel' in a bowl, he cringed a little before rejecting the offer.

Zed just shrugged before dropping the tray onto a side table and drinking the cup herself. Taking a seat at the edge of the bed, her gaze was soft as she stared down at the child, her hands ran through the child short dark tresses in a comforting manner.

Jason studied how she gently cupped the back of the Gem of Scath’s head and raised it, picking up a cup of water from the side and bringing it to the demon’s mouth and it drank with obedience.

The more Jason watched, the less he could even continue to refer to this child as a demon.

Etrigan was a demon—looked like one too.

How could he use the same term he'd use to describe the bastard in him, to describe this tiny looking thing before him? And though he could sense the hellish magic pouring out of her, for now, she was harmless.

"Alright, summon him out."

John's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He gave him a perplexed look before asking, "Excuse me?"

"Etrigan. Your demon buddy," the way John looked and spoke, you could tell he saw no issue with his request, "Just wanna confirm from a primary source whether if this is something worse or natural way of life."

Jason was flabbergasted, 'was this why he was called?!'

John sighed.

Actually looking peeved by Jason's confusion.

To the side, he heard Zed's chuckle as she began to switch the towels on the girls head, "told you he wouldn't do it."

"Oh bog off," John retorted back before turning back to him and placing a hand on Jason's shoulder, "Listen, it's either you or I visit ol' Luci and I'm simply not really...eager to have that encounter. So do me a favour here, and just bloody say the rhyme."

Jason looked at the hand on his shoulder like it was a parasite before smacking it off. Taking a breath to compose himself, he turned to the exorcist, " I assure you, there is nothing Etrigan can assist you with that I cannot also offer."

"A huge fuck-off sword?"

Jason glared, "Let me see the child," he spat—obviously ignoring the previous statement.

John put his hands up in surrender before indicating with a turn of his head to the child who had actually risen during their conversation and was now sitting upright—well, slouched and she was staring half-lidded at the wall with the only sign she was awake being her harsh breaths.

He bent down as to be in her level of sight and stuck his hand out, "Hello, my name is Jason Blood, you must be..." "Raven." "-yes, thank you, Zed. They tell me you are a bit under the weather?"

Jason realized halfway that he never learnt the girl's name and had simply just been referring to her as the Gem of Scath. He felt a tinge of guilt for his rudeness, but the dazed stare the girl gave him was confirmation that she was barely conscious enough to even notice.

He also realized it was ridiculous to try to shake a child's hand and was bout to retract it when he felt a pair of smaller ones latch onto his fingers.

Looking up he met a sleepy pair of amethyst eyes trying to focus on him, "N-n-nwot sick...jus-jhwust..uh sleepy and...cwold," with a voice that was softer than a whisper, plus the slurring of her words due to the fever, she was basically incomprehensible.

He was going to try and retract his hand again when he felt something soft come in contact with it. He looked down to see that she had placed her face in the palm of it and wrapped around it like a snake.

With a single muttering of, "...warm...like hellfire", she fell asleep with his hand still under her.

He looked at Constantine.

Not really sure what to do, but the con-man only grinned before giving him a tap on the back, "Good lad Jason, put her to sleep. Even I couldn't do that, let alone Etrigan. Guess I'll leave it to you."

And with that, Zed and John stood up and began to exit the room.

Jason was still in shock to even speak; so before he realized what they were doing, they already switched off the lights and closed the door with a soft click.

He simply stared into the darkness, the only illumination being the moon and stars outside.

Sighing, looked down at the fiend holding his hand prisoner and contemplated yanking her off. She was small. it would incredibly easy to flick her away and then he could simply depart home...but then he felt a squeeze.

As if the girl sensed his thoughts, she clung harder onto his limb like it was a lifeline.

She looked truly at peace right now; her harsh breaths were now nothing but puffs and she was less...sweaty. Demon spawn or not, the girl was no more vulnerable than a newborn fawn at the moment. Jason just didn't have the heart to disturb her peace for his own gain.

Another sigh could be heard in the silent room.

'Maybe an hour longer won't hurt but after that, never accept a favour for John Constantine again.'

hope you like it, feels weird writing characters that aren't just raven and my other faves, hope I didn't make anyone ooc

#raven dc #raven teen titans #john constantine #zed martin #john x zed #dad!constantine #constantine & raven #dc comics #raven fanfiction #jason blood #etrigam the demon

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spencers-renaissance · 3 years

Text

love drunk, waiting on a miracle

Summary: an average case of the flu develops into pneumonia and Spencer is left alone, suffering and afraid he’s going to die. Aaron’s on a case in Wyoming when Spencer stops replying: when he finally gets back home to him, his entire world flips on its head.

Tags: pneumonia, whump, serious illness, hurt/comfort, hurt!spencer, est.rel., hospitals, worried!aaron, fluff, crying, protective!aaron

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 3.7k

Masterlist // Read on AO3 // Bad Things Happen Bingo

In the haze of his fever, confusion worms its way into Spencer’s mind. He should really be getting better by now, right? It had only been the flu: a surprisingly cruel DC winter had sparked a much more severe flu season than usual and Spencer, with his terrible luck, had managed to contract it. Not surprising, really, when he considers the poor ventilation on the Metro. Flu season had probably turned the handrails into a petri dish, and there was that day two weeks ago when he’d been in such a rush he hadn’t time to use his hand sanitizer.

The flu, logically, made sense.

Except he thinks he’s probably been sick for at least a week and a half by now and flu symptoms are meant to improve after 8 days. He’s only getting worse. His chest pain is intensifying and he’s coughing up bloody phlegm every couple of minutes, but through his fever-induced haze he can’t think. He knows somewhere in the back of his head that something’s wrong, that he needs to get help, but he can’t even get up out of bed to do anything about it.

His heart is racing and he’s freezing cold, although his thermometer reads a number so high he wonders whether it’s broken, and the last thing he ate was two days ago. As the light in the window opposite his bed slowly fades and night approaches, his coughing turns to gasping and he’s struggling for breath.

Distantly, he wishes Aaron was here. He’d know what to do, he’d figure out how to help him, but he’s… somewhere else. A case maybe? He can’t quite remember. Wherever his boyfriend is, he's not here and that means Spencer has to lay awake, dazed and confused, gasping for air in the lonely darkness of his bedroom, terrified he’s about to die.

⭐️

Aaron doesn’t waste any time racing to his SUV as soon as the jet lands, vaguely acknowledging the rest of the team yelling after him to text them as soon as he gets to Spencer, before climbing into his car and speeding over to his boyfriend’s place. He has his sirens on — technically this is an emergency — but he’s still shouting at the traffic when lazy and distracted drivers don’t get out of his way fast enough.

Spencer had called into work sick last week with the flu. It wasn’t really anything to worry about: with enough rest and fluids he’d be back to work in no time. He’d stayed at Spencer’s apartment through the first four days as he attempted to play nurse much to both of their amusements, but they’d been called out on a case in Wyoming that had lasted for far too long. Spencer had sent him updates the first couple of days he was away, but then he’d fallen silent. The team had all attempted to contact him, and they’d all gone unanswered.

Sick anxiety swirls in his stomach as he presses his foot harder against the accelerator, pushing the limits of his SUV as he bolts across the border into DC, wishing desperately that Spencer lived closer to Quantico.

He hopes to God he’s wrong; that Spencer’s phone had run out of battery and his phone was broken or his texts just weren’t getting through for some reason, that he’d let himself into his apartment and he’d be sat on the couch, still not 100% but on the road to recovery, but he can feel deep in his gut that he’s right. Something is seriously wrong.

He abandons his car as safely as possible outside Spencer’s apartment complex before punching in the code for the front door and running up the stairs, taking two at a time until he’s on the right floor, sprinting down the corridor and hastily shoving his key into the lock.

The apartment is dark and the living room and kitchen are both deserted, so Aaron rushes to the bedroom, opening the door to find Spencer wheezing on the bed, clearly fighting for breath. He’d entered 911 into his phone on his way up, intuition telling him he’d need it, and he hits the dial button as he rushes to Spencer’s bedside.

“Hello, 911, what’s your emergency?”

“Hi, yes, I’ve just come home from a work trip and my boyfriend is gasping for air and struggling to breathe,” he replies, panicked as Spencer looks around, not seeming to recognise his surroundings. He leans down to press a kiss to his sweaty forehead and recoils at how hot his skin is. “He’s burning up… I— please. We thought it was just the flu.”

“Okay, sir, an ambulance is on its way. Is your boyfriend conscious?”

“Yes,” Aaron breathes, panic rising as he watches Spencer wheeze and gasp, “but I think he’s delirious. I’m not even sure if he knows I’m here.”

“Alright, it’s good news that he’s conscious. What’s your name, sir?”

“Aaron Hotchner.”

“And your boyfriend’s?”

“Spencer Reid.”

“Okay, Aaron. Stay with me. An ambulance is only a few minutes out. I need you to do a couple of things for me, okay? Do you know how to check Spencer’s pulse?”

“Yes. I’m first-aid trained.” Aaron places two fingers against his jugular. “It’s fast. Definitely over 100.” Spencer did not need tachycardia added to his plate right now, but here they are.

“You’re doing great, Aaron. Now I need you to remove any pillows under Spencer’s head and keep monitoring his heart rate and breathing for me until the paramedics get there. If he stops wheezing or gasping you need to tell me, okay? Same with his heart rate. Any change, you let me know.”

“Okay.” Tears are rolling down his face as he pulls the pillow out from under Spencer’s head and keeps two fingers pressed against his neck. “It’s gonna be okay, baby. Help is on the way. I’m here, I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.” He leans in to kiss his forehead again, before brushing his fingers through Spencer’s tangled, greasy hair.

“Aaron?” Spencer manages in between gasps.

“Yeah, baby, I’m here. You don’t need to talk, okay?”

“What’s— what’s happening? I can’t breathe.”

“I know,” Aaron says, voice strangled by a sob, “an ambulance is on it’s way. You’re gonna be alright.”

Spencer’s small moment of clarity passes and he slips back into his disoriented state, mumbling nonsense about chores he forgot to do in between his gasps for air.

“Has anything changed, Aaron?” the 911 operator asks.

“He talked to me for a second but now he’s confused again.”

“Okay. It’s good that he’s able to speak. The ambulance is less than a minute out, okay? I need you to leave Spencer on his own for just a second to let the paramedics into the building and lead them up to his flat. I promise you that this is the best and quickest way to get Spencer help.”

Aaron winces as his stomach clenches in anxiety at leaving his boyfriend alone, but he knows he needs to listen to the voice of reason right now. Emotion is only going to be a detriment to Spencer.

“Yeah, I’m heading down now.” He kisses Spencer’s forehead once more, whispering that he’ll be right back even though he knows it’s useless before running out of the apartment and down the stairs, sobbing with relief at the sight of flashing lights and sirens pulling up outside the complex. “The ambulance is here.”

“Okay, Aaron. I’ll leave you in their hands, now, alright? They’ll help you and Spencer.”

He barely hears the 911 operator hang up before he’s running down the couple of steps leading up to the front door to greet the EMTs.

“Are you Aaron Hotchner?” one of them, a blonde woman, asks.

“Yes, I— please, Spencer’s up here.”

He remembers leading them up the stairs but standing at the foot of his boyfriend’s bed and watching the paramedics attach an oxygen mask to his face before sliding him onto the stretcher is a blur of noise and light, snapped out of it only by the male EMT shouting at him through his haze, telling him to follow them into the ambulance.

This is the absolute worst day of his life.

⭐️

“Pneumonia?” Aaron repeats after the doctor standing in front of him in the sterile hospital hallway, still feeling out of it, consumed by shock. “We thought it was just the flu.”

“It’s likely that that is how it started,” the doctor explains gently. “Pneumonia is an unfortunate, and fairly uncommon, complication of the influenza virus, and with Spencer’s temperature so high he wasn’t able to take any kind of emergency action. The pneumonia going untreated caused an exudative pleural effusion which was why Spencer was finding it so difficult and painful to breathe. He’s incredibly lucky that you got there in time, Mr Hotchner.”

Tears well up in Aaron’s eyes for at least the fourth time tonight, but he’s powerless to stop them. Just the thought of losing Spencer cuts deep in his gut. “So, what now?” he asks, voice choked with emotion.

“Well, we’re draining the pleural effusion with a chest tube, aided by a diuretic,” she replies, “and he’ll need to stay in hospital for the next couple of days in order for us to monitor the progression of his pneumonia and to ensure that we don’t see any other complications. But Spencer is already improving, Mr Hotchner, so we have every reason to expect a complete recovery. Pneumonia tends to linger, but generally we see temperatures clearing by the end of the first week, chest pain and mucus production gone after four weeks, and all other symptoms except fatigue disappeared by the three month mark. In almost all cases, patients are back to normal by six months.”

“Six months?” Aaron asks incredulously, his mind going a million miles an hour as he tries to comprehend what this means for them both.

“Pneumonia is a fairly serious illness, Mr Hotchner. It will take some time to get over completely, but he should be able to go back to work by the end of the month, even if he doesn’t feel 100% yet. It’s a slow but steady journey.”

He nods in understanding as he drags a hand down his face. He can’t help but feel responsible for Spencer being in this mess: if he’d been home, he would’ve noticed the change in his health and rushed him to hospital to make sure he got promptly diagnosed and treated instead of suffering a fucking pleural effusion scared and alone.

“Okay,” he sighs. “Thank you. Could you— can I be the one to tell him?” If he has to hear this news, he should hear it from Aaron, not some impersonal, impatient doctor who doesn’t care about Spencer beyond the performance of his lungs.

The doctor nods. “We’ll be along to make sure he understands the medical side of things,” she clarifies, “but there’s no reason you can’t speak to him first.”

With that, she walks off down the corridor, leaving him standing outside a sleeping Spencer’s room. Taking a deep breath, trying to steady his pounding, racing, bleeding heart, he opens the door and slips inside, settling into the seat next to his bed.

He’d had to be sedated once they arrived at the hospital, his delirium spiralling into terrified anxiety, making it difficult for the doctors to assess him. It had made the chest tube insertion easier anyway, and allowed him to sleep through the worst of the pain before the non-narcotic medication he’d been prescribed kicked in.

Almost as soon as he sits down and takes in Spencer’s pale, sleeping form, his phone pings with a text from Derek. He’d texted them with updates in the waiting room, as much as he could through the haze of shocked anxiety anyway, and the last one had been a quick text saying Spencer was sedated and in for tests. How’s it going? Any updates?

Influenza that developed into pneumonia. Went untreated which caused a pleural effusion. Doctors say the worst will pass in the next few weeks, but full recovery could be up to six months.

It had felt exhausting enough when the doctor had told him, but typing those words out means facing the reality properly, and all of a sudden he’s heaving violent sobs as he bends over Spencer’s bed, clutching his hand tightly in his own. It’s nearing 4am, and after an exhausting case Aaron still hasn’t slept. Exhaustion mixes with relief mixes with stress into a heady cocktail of emotion. He allows himself to fall apart, but it takes almost twenty minutes for his tears to dry up and his body to stop heaving.

He leans back in the chair and stares tiredly at Spencer’s rising and falling chest, eyes dry and swollen, using the reassuring motion of his boyfriend’s breathing as a sort of meditative exercise. The early signs of dawn are visible outside the window when he’s roused from his miserable trance by the door opening.

A small amount of surprise flashes through his mind at the sight of Penelope closing the door behind her and walking over to sit in the spare chair next to him before he realises that this makes complete and total sense for her character. Spencer is her best friend, and she’s hardly one for boundaries or waiting for an invitation. Aaron’s never been more thankful for that aspect of her personality than right in this moment.

“Penelope,” he sighs, and he doesn’t even care that the relief in his voice is painfully evident.

“You look awful,” she says sadly. “You need to eat and drink something. I bought you some water and an energy bar.”

He hadn’t realised how hungry he is until he’s unwrapping the bar like he hasn’t eaten in days. “What are you doing here?”

“I was with Derek when you texted him.” That explains her lack of makeup and colourful dress, he supposes. “I made him drive us over immediately, but he stayed in the waiting room because he didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

Well, Aaron can be grateful for that, at least. He doesn’t mind Penelope seeing him like this but it might be a little too much to have Derek around him in his most broken state.

“Spencer’s going to be okay, Hotch,” she says softly, uncapping the water bottle and insisting he drink some. “You need to take care of yourself in order to take care of him. Why don’t you sit in the high-backed chair over there and try and close your eyes until Spencer wakes up.”

“No, I need to stay awake, what if he—”

“Hotch,” Penelope interrupts, “I’ll wake you up if he so much as twitches. But I doubt you’ll need it. You’ll know; your subconscious will wake you, I promise.”

He can’t exactly argue with that, and Penelope is nothing if not tenacious so even if he tries, he knows it would be a futile battle. He’s out even before she’s finished draping her scarf over him.

She ends up being right, to the surprise of absolutely nobody, and he’s jolted out of his doze as soon as Spencer stirs. He leaps up and immediately rushes to the side of the bed, ignoring his headrush in favour of leaning over and placing a hand on the top of his head, threading his hand through the tangled curls again. “Hey,” he murmurs as Spencer blinks his eyes open blearily. “You’re in the hospital, but you’re going to be okay. I’m right here, baby.”

Penelope is nowhere to be seen, but he guesses that she’s probably just nipped to the toilet or out to talk to Derek.

“Aaron,” he rasps, trying to move the oxygen mask from his face.

“No, you need to keep the mask on, sweetheart,” he explains, placing his hand gently over Spencer’s and moving it away. “You can talk through it, okay?”

“What happened?”

Aaron breathes in shakily and sighs it out before meeting Spencer’s eyes again. “The flu you had developed into pneumonia which gave you a pleural effusion, which is why you have that chest tube in.” He watches as Spencer moves his head to the right to look at the clear tube draining fluid from his lungs into the collection device at the side of his bed. “You’re on painkillers to help you breathe more easily, antivirals to ease the initial infection and a diuretic to help reduce your pleural effusion.”

He watches helplessly as Spencer’s eyes fill with tears at his words, and he presses closer, moving his hand to his cheek.

“I was so scared,” he cries, nestling into Aaron’s hand.

Me too. “I know, baby,” he murmurs, running his thumb gently across the small line of exposed skin above his oxygen mask. “You’re safe now, I’m here. We’ll get through this together, okay?”

It’s a few seconds before Spencer speaks up again, meeting Aaron’s eyes as tears spill down his cheeks. “Six months.”

Of course Spencer knows the average pneumonia recovery time. Of course he’d take the hardest job off Aaron’s plate. All he can do is nod sadly as tears spring to his own eyes and lean down to kiss his forehead. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Six months.”

Penelope comes back into the hospital room to find Aaron lying next to Spencer on the hospital bed. It had taken a decent amount of convincing but every bone of his body aches and longs to protect Spencer, so resisting those teary requests had been a losing game from the very beginning. He’s dozing tiredly on Aaron’s chest as his fingers caress his head gently, soothing him against the pain he’s feeling.

“Oh,” she gasps as she hurriedly closes the door and rushes over to Spencer, whose eyes flutter open at the sound of his best friend’s voice.

“Penny,” he says quietly, not moving his head but reaching out his hand to Penelope, who immediately clasps it gently in hers.

“Oh, baby genius, I’m so glad you’re okay.” She tears up as well and it almost makes Aaron laugh: this hospital room will be drowned in their emotions by the time they’re heading home. “Do you want me to get Derek?”

At Spencer’s tired nod, she smiles, squeezes his hand and rushes to get Spencer’s other best friend.

Derek, thankfully, doesn’t add to the pool of tears already collecting on the linoleum, instead walking confidently over to the bed and leaning over to hug Spencer as well as he can when he’s obstructed by both the hospital bed and Aaron’s arms wrapped around his boyfriend.

“We’re gonna get you through this, Spencer,” Derek says, looking deep into his eyes with that intense, earnest expression on his face that tends to make an appearance at times like these. “You’re not doing this alone, you hear me?”

God, Aaron tears up at that, he can’t blame Spencer even a little bit when he immediately bursts into tears.

“Shh, baby,” he murmurs, holding him impossibly closer. “You’re okay, you’re so loved. Why don’t you try and get some sleep before the doctors do their rounds in a few hours yeah?”

“We won’t go anywhere, Spence,” Penelope reassures him. “Derek and I will stay right here.”

⭐️

It’s a long six days of sleeping in uncomfortable high back chairs and holding Spencer as he tries desperately to get rest despite his disruptive, painful cough and irritating chest tube. The entire team visits as much as possible, but with both Aaron and Spencer both away, the caseload is much more difficult. He’d feel guilty if he wasn’t absolutely sure he’s where he needs to be.

With the pleural effusion completely drained and Spencer’s lungs healing well, they’re eventually discharged, and they don’t even have to talk about where they’re going. Aaron drives them back to his own apartment, which is helpfully on the ground floor, so he doesn’t have to carry Spencer up three flights of stairs.

As soon as he’s settled comfortably in bed with everything he could possibly need close to hand — tissues, water, dry crackers, the remote for the TV, and a stack of books he’d requested, alongside the home oxygen supply he’d carefully set up — he sits down next to him.

“I’ve taken three weeks of compassionate leave,” he says softly, brushing a lock of curly hair from Spencer’s face. It’s washed and brushed out, not a hint of the gel he usually slicks it back with, and Aaron’s always loved him like this, soft and natural.

“You didn’t need to do that.” Spencer’s voice is still a little croaky, but muchm clearer as his lungs have healed up and his words aren’t obstructed by a clunky oxygen mask. The nasal cannula also means it’s much easier for Aaron to finally kiss his boyfriend again.

“I know, but I wanted to. You’re more important than a job: I need to be here, and I will be. I’d move heaven and earth for you, how many times have I told you that?”

Spencer smiles bashfully at that, a pink flush colouring his cheeks — it’s so good to see his pale skin come to life again. “Two hundred and thirty-six.”

He laughs warmly at that. “God, I love you.”

“You’ve told me that five thousand, six hundred and forty-two times,” Spencer murmurs, lacing his fingers with Aaron’s. He pauses for a moment, staring at their intertwined hands before looking up again. “Come and lay with me?”

“Anything for you, baby,” Aaron coalesces, toeing off his shoes and slipping under the covers. He can’t help the smile that crosses his face as Spencer immediately curls into him, nestling his face into Aaron’s neck.

“Love you,” Spencer murmurs, warm breath brushing Aaron’s collarbone.

“I love you more, sweetheart.” He’s fairly sure it’s true; he can’t imagine anyone loving someone more than he loves Spencer.

“Five thousand, six-hundred and forty-three,” he whispers sleepily before his breath evens out and he falls asleep.

The road ahead isn’t going to be easy, Aaron is under no delusion, but right now, his life seems pretty damn perfect. He came so close to losing Spencer, but here he is, pressed tightly against him in a fierce cuddle so emblematic of his boyfriend’s character, with the promise of a full recovery — however long that will take — and he’s not oblivious to how unbelievably lucky that makes him.

It’s hard not to smile as he presses a gentle kiss to Spencer’s curls.

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @makaylajadewrites @iamalystark @hotchseyebrows @reidology @i-like-buttons @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @goobzoop @marsjareau (taglist form)

#criminal minds #criminal minds writing #criminal minds fic #hotchreid #hotchreid fic #spencer reid whump #hurt spencer reid #hotchreid whump #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #hotchreid angst #hotchreid fluff #aaron hotchner/spencer reid #aaron hotchner x spencer reid #spencer reid/aaron hotchner #spencer reid x aaron hotchner #my writing

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exosmutfactory · 3 years

Text

Six Phases 006 Pt 2

Originally posted by exo-stentialism

Who knew it nearly took 6 months to win your heart, and 6 phases for Baekhyun to lose his mind.

A/N: sorry not sorry 😇🚗💨🔥

[ contains: romance, fluff, angst, & smut ]

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

Somehow, waking up early on Saturday mornings had become a routine since that weekend. Between the plague-like thoughts that disrupted my sleep and how Baekhyun cutely requested for breakfast the next morning, I dragged my tired body out of bed and quickly whipped up some bacon with scrambled eggs. He insisted that my cooking was the best before the flavor even settled fully onto his tongue, counteracting my every protest with flustering compliments. I recall accidentally telling him he was full of shit—it was only a simple meal, after all. What is that compared to the hundreds of fancy restaurants he has dined in?

"Your food tastes like home," He argued between pacifying whines, back-hugging me in a way that always weakens my defenses. I begrudgingly agreed after convincing him to have turkey bacon from time to time. Pork has its place, and I preferably don't enjoy the breakfast variety all too often.

It's ridiculous what lengths I would go for this infuriatingly attractive man. If my weekend to-do list full of breakfast, groceries, and laundry is anything to go by, I wouldn't oppose being considered as "whipped" for him. It is what it is, man.

Every Saturday I am up and running by the time the sunlight breaks over the horizon. Regardless of how late I end up sleeping the night before, my eyes automatically open between the hours of 6 and 7; ready to climb out of bed as quietly as possible. Thankfully Baekhyun is a heavy sleeper who is content with hugging my pillow to his chest while I sneak off to the kitchen.

The aches in my body become very apparent the moment my foot touches the carpeted floor of our bedroom, a familiar feeling—welcomed almost, though I'd never tell Baekhyun that. His ego when it comes to things like this is big enough as it is.

Suppressing a shiver at the wintry morning air, I reach for his discarded shirt from the night before, tsking quietly at the two buttons missing from the top of the material. I swear he's the most annoyingly endearing man I've ever met. There's no other explanation for why I'm already planning what time to sew the buttons back on, carefully picking them up from the floor and leaving them on top of our shared dresser.

Luckily the remaining buttons are enough to shield my shoulders from the cold of the large apartment; the bottom of the shirt brushing against the back of my thighs as I make my way out into the hallway, gently closing the door behind me. In times like these I am grateful for Baekhyun's habit of leaving his house-slippers right outside of our bedroom. I rarely use mine despite his constant chastising. Some things in life are better bare.

Slipping into the slippers with ease, a smile tugs at my lips while shuffling quietly down the hallway. I usually keep breakfast simple: scrambled eggs, a few strips of bacon—maybe a pancake or two on a particularly good morning. Today, however, I'm in the mood for something more. Omelets, cinnamon buns, and the little sausages Baekhyun has adored lately.

Checking on the buns in the small conventional oven on the counter, I whisk away at the raw eggs that will make up Baekhyun's omelet, smoothing out the yolk entirely. A light breeze and soft kiss pressed to my shoulder break me out of my concentration. I could recognize those pouty lips anywhere.

"You're up early," I murmur, leaning back against his chest. Tilting my head up, I smile at his cute sleepy expression.

"Mmm," He manages to capture my lips in an upside-down kiss that melts me to my very core, his warm fingers seeping through the fabric of my borrowed shirt. "What are you up to?"

"Breakfast," I breathe, cheeks warming as he pulls away, quickly checking on the sizzling frying pan in front of me before he can catch me admiring his bare torso. "I got the sausages you like, Bae."

"Bae?"

The top of my head nearly slams into the bottom of the cabinets as I freeze in my tracks, frying pan clutched in hand. Shit, did I say that out loud? My face might as well be 50 shades of red. "I—I mean-"

Baekhyun plants a kiss on my head that throws my every thought out the window. "I love you." He hums, hugging me warmly before walking to the dining table. The view of his bare back as he runs a hand through his sleep-tousled hair is way too captivating for six-thirty in the damn morning.

I put my attention back on the pan, hurriedly removing it from the burner to slide the sausages onto a tray. 30 more seconds and I would have burned the damn things had I not shaken myself back into focus. "Jenny and the gang are coming over today."

"Today?"

I raise a brow at his tone. The high-pitched inquiry of his voice at the mention of his friends is a little suspect. Who was the genius that bragged so much about my BBQ short ribs everyone ended up inviting themselves over to our apartment? Shouldn't he remember our plans for tonight?

"Yes?" I drag out, tilting my head, looking at him skeptically with a hand on my hip, raising my spatula. "Did you forget?"

His silent form sitting rigidly at the table is enough of an answer. "N-" I raise my other brow. "Erm—M-Maybe?"

"Uh-huh." If he wasn't so adorable after just waking up with his lips tutted in a confused pout, I would give him hell. "I bought groceries yesterday, so we're only missing the wine-"

"I'm on it." Baekhyun perks up in his chair as if douched in cold water, pulling his phone out of nowhere. "Hyerin," He murmurs groggily, fumbling clumsily for a couple of seconds and slapping it to his ear in his hurry. "I need a bottle of Dom Perignon by 6:30. Thank you." The call is over in the span of 10 seconds. He sets the device next to his glass of orange juice on the table, busying himself with gulping down half of its contents. It takes a while for him to notice my bewildered gaze. "What?" He mumbles; orange pulp on his pouty lips.

I narrow my eyes, lowering the grease-covered frying pan back to the stove. "Who was that?" And how the fuck you just ordering Dom Perignon as if it doesn't cost my entire education expenses? If you just bought the $50k edition, I swear, Byun Baekhyun—"My new secretary." He yawns, stretching his arms above his head with a soft, content smile. "Come here." He mumbles, opening them towards me, his sleepy brown orbs fluttering sluggishly. "I miss you."

For a moment I just stare at him. "I'm right here..." I mutter softly, growing more aware of his current state by the minute. Those dark circles are committing the worst crime by being on his precious face. Carefully sliding his omelet onto a plate followed by a few pieces of sausage, I can't help laughing a little to myself at the comparison of our meals. His omelet managed to come out better than the one I made for me, perfectly solid compared to my result of scrambled eggs. No matter what, he gets the very best from me—I'm taking the biggest cinnamon bun though. That delicious treat has my name written all over it, it's mine for the taking. Besides, I can risk a sugar-crash unlike Mr. 12 hour shifts over there. Noting his drowsy form nodding off at the table, I quickly reach over to start the coffeemaker.

The smile that lights up his face as I present his food to him makes up for the few seconds I burnt my hand earlier, trying my best not to burn our whole apartment down. Note to self: never daydream about eventful Friday nights while leaning over a hot stove. Had I been slower to react, I'd be nursing my hand back to health with a frazzled boyfriend refusing to let me so much as brush my teeth on my own—it gets overwhelming after the first day, trust me.

Settling down on his lap under the persuasive encouragements falling from his irresistible lips, I hold up a piece of sausage to shush his drowsy mumblings. As cute as he is, he needs his morning protein before he can wake up and function properly. Especially after working 60 hours two weeks in a row. I respect his enthusiasm as a semi-workaholic myself, but damn am I worried. What kind of crazily time-consuming clothing line is going on in his beautiful head this time?

Baekhyun finishes his juice while I pick at my food, lazily twirling his hair between my fingers. Some days I ask myself why I’m still here, why I still try, why I continue on in this relationship that has more blurred lines than direct answers about our future. To tell the truth... I never expected to fall in love again. I never saw this coming—never saw him coming, when my sole way of survival has been spotting things from miles away. How did it come to this? How the hell did this man sneak past all my defenses so easily?

Maybe it was the smile he shot my way the first time we met or the way we had danced that Friday night, his body seeming to match so perfectly with mine. His comforting presence and sweet, brown eyes that hold all the stars in the universe. The countless late nights he has spent looking after me when I caught the flu from a combination of lack of sleep, stress, and poor life choices. He's always been there—always been here with me, but why… Why isn’t it enough? What is missing? How can I strip this weight off my chest that suffocates me more by the day?

"Baby?" Baekhyun's warm voice caresses my ear, comforting arms tightening around me.

"What if it happens again?" Jenny's worried face flashes vividly in my mind.

The memories come pouring in, making my mouth go dry as a lump forms in my throat. It takes everything in me to drag my eyes up to meet Baekhyun's inquiring orbs, plastering on another smile. The gesture is easier to manage with every sweet kiss his soft pillows plant on my lips. His heart-fluttering touch distracts my hyperactive mind for a while.

"Damn, Riley." Chanyeol practically moans, the sampling spoon I had offered him left to dangle pre-cautiously between his fingers. "Had I known you could cook like this, I would have come soon—ah!"

"Yah," Baekhyun scowls as I take the last serving plate from the counter to the table with a bashful smile, passing the tall man clutching the back of his head. "That's my girlfriend you're talking about." He mutters, lowering his hand, voice deepening in an unfairly attractive manner. "Watch your mouth."

"Geez." The giant huffs, glaring at him under the veil of his blonde hair. "You'd think you two were married with that—okay, okay!"

"When you two are done." The over-the-top chirp of my voice catches their attention; both their eyes widening like guilty little kids caught with their hands in a cookie jar. "Dinner is ready."

"Don't let me eat it all." Jongdae drawls, throwing an arm over the back of Jenny's chair, looking at them lazily, his brown eyes glinting mischievously. "Remember what happened last time."

Baekhyun and Chanyeol scramble for their seats as if their asses have been set on fire; an unusually quiet Jongin follows behind them, carrying a plate I forgot all about.

"Thank you." I gasp, quickly making room for the forgotten dish. "Set it down here, please."

Jongin nods, setting down the plate of cucumber salad next to the servings of Bulgogi. "I'm sorry Kyungsoo couldn't make it." He mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. "Something came up at the restaurant."

"It's alright. Wanna pack a to-go plate for him?" Tilting my head, I smile in understanding at the sheepish expression on his face. "If you think he'd like my food, anyway," I joke, resting my arm on the back of my chair as I continue to face him, relieved at the familiar hint of playfulness restored in his eyes.

"Oh he's going to love it," Chanyeol insists with a pleased hum, yelping at the smack Jenny lands on his sneaky hand.

"Where are your manners, Park?" She sighs, shaking her head, fiery red curls bouncing with the motion.

"Save some for the rest of us, asshole." Jongdae grumbles, subtly eyeing the cucumber salad.

Everyone's plate already has a soft taco shell, warm from a few seconds in the microwave. The toppings are placed on top of the two tables Baekhyun and I had to push together to accommodate our guests: fresh Korean lettuce, sour cream, and other ingredients that Jenny helped me choose—especially that bowl of melted nacho-cheese Jongin keeps taking glances at.

We all look towards Baekhyun once he settles in his seat. He leans forward to reach the middle of the table, bypassing the regular bulgogi for the one drenched in a home-made sauce, spooning some on my taco shell with a chaste kiss to my cheek. "Eat up, everyone," He murmurs sweetly, tired brown eyes twinkling.

Jongdae doesn't even fake-gag with Chanyeol and Jongin, he goes straight for the cucumber salad. The fresh smell wafts in the air amongst the various meat and spices, making Baekhyun's nose crinkle adorably. I carefully brush his freshly dyed hair out of his eyes, chuckling at the pout he shoots my way. "Did you really have to make cucumber salad, baby? Cucumber?"

"One man's trash is another man's treasure, Byun," Jongdae mutters, forgoing his personal bowl to grab the whole serving. No one says a word, we just share knowing smiles. And once Chanyeol pops the cork of the expensive Dom Perignon, the real party begins.

Endless tales of embarrassing high school cafeteria incidents spill forth from Jongdae's mouth as if shame has gone out of style. The details he shares at the expense of Chanyeol's seemingly innocent public image flying out the window right along with it.

"One second this guy looked like he was taking the biggest shit of his life, and the next thing I know, Lee Naeun from 5th period Physics is crawling out from under the table, wiping spulge from her lips. Like, Chanyeol, what the actual fuck bro? Couldn't you have taken your business to the 3rd floor Janitor's closet? I think I still have the key..."

If it wasn't for Baekhyun's quick hands, I would've sprayed a mouthful of wine across the entire table.

Unfortunately, Jongin had to head out right after dinner, promising to meet up again soon before hurrying to Kyungsoo's house, two plates clutched in hand. Chanyeol decided to stick around for longer to "let his two glasses of wine wear off"—this man has the metabolism of a beast, we know why he's really here. His reason is comfortably seated next to Jenny on our striped couch, sock-clad feet propped up on the coffee table.

"Dinner was nice," Jenny smiles, sipping leisurely at her water.

"More than nice." Chanyeol boosts from our leather recliner, raising his glass, tipping his head at me. "Your food damn near tops Kyungsoo's," He pauses, brown eyes widening. "Don't tell him I said that."

"No worries," I laugh softly, hiding in the safety of Baekhyun's shoulder. He shifts towards me, finishing his wine and setting the empty glass on the coffee table before wrapping an arm around my waist, brushing his lips against my forehead in a way that leaves my heart shaking. The white loveseat we're sitting on sinks further under our joined weight, and really, there's no place I'd rather be—except our king sized bed, that is. Baekhyun's firm grip on my bare thigh isn't helping my tipsy trance in the slightest. The universe knows I'd rather be getting drunk off of him right now.

"I'm going for a smoke," Jongdae mutters, rising from the couch. He leans down to Jenny for a kiss that leaves her beaming, going to retrieve his trench coat and shoes before slipping out of the door.

Good to see them doing well; I blink in surprise, smiling teasingly her way. I'm happy for her! It really is a pleasant surprise to see Jongdae stating their relationship in such a way; an immense improvement from their past encounters of Jenny nervously seeking affection and Jongdae down-right dodging it like his life depends on it. Public displays of affection are a sweet, straightforward way to say, "hey, this person means a lot to me," or, "back off, they're mine." Which personally sets me on romantic fire. Even if it's just holding hands, it can put me in high spirits—doing it with a certain, cheeky silver-haired man is just a bonus.

Jenny winks, fanning her cheeks that match the rosy shade of her hair before tuning in to Chanyeol's loud chatter.

Soft laughter rumbles in Baekhyun's chest as he engages in the conversation. His warm palm securely holds my hand when I slip my cold palm into his warm one. He presses a kiss to the back of it, pulling a silent giggle from my lips as he smiles at me with an arched brow, squeezing our intertwined fingers.

"Riley?"

I drag my eyes up to Jenny who's loosening her red curls by running her fingers through them. "Yeah?"

"Jongdae's not answering his cell," She murmurs with a worried frown. "Can you go check on him, please?"

And why can't you do it? — Or come with me for that matter? I raise a brow, getting up from the chair and Baekhyun's warmth with a silent sigh. "Okay. I'll be back." If I get kidnapped or spooked by some random asshole, she'll never hear the end of it. I really should ask Baekhyun to teach me a thing or two about hakipdo though.

Jenny beams, a peculiar twinkle in her eye, clasping my hand between hers. "Thank you!"

Uh-huh... I try not to eye her too warily.

"Take my coat, baby," Baekhyun murmurs, kissing the side of my wrist. "It's cold out."

"O-Okay." I clear my throat, pointedly avoiding the smug smiles of the other two in the room while walking over to the coat hanger.

Slipping on his brown, cinnamon-scented coat brings a giddy smile to lips—one I'm quick to hide in the soft fabric.

I slide on my boots before making my way to the elevator, not up for taking the 4 levels of stairs this late at night. Thankfully, that nosy neighbor down the hall isn't meeting me at the elevator tonight on one of his various late-night escapades. I've had enough awkward encounters with his lovers to last me a lifetime.

The lobby is empty except for a lone security guard who waves my way, face lit up in familiarity. Smiling back, I step out the crystal-clean glass doors of the building into the quiet night, quickly finding the man I'm looking for standing at the edge of the sidewalk. "Jongdae."

"Huh?" He looks over his shoulder, turning halfway at the sight of me, pulling a joint from his lips.

"You alright?" I pull Baekhyun's coat tighter around me, resisting the urge to shiver in the icy wind. "Jenny was looking for you."

"Looking for-" He chuckles, brown hair ruffling as he throws his head back in laughter. "Girl, please. I was instructed to come down here 5 minutes ago." He continues, inhaling deeply from the stick between his fingertips. "She ain't looking for me, she's looking for a way for them to chat privately and to make us talk..." He sighs, looking over at me. "I'm not exactly the best company for deep shit."

"O-kay then," I mumble, more than a little peeved, ready to turn on my heel in any direction other than stay here.

"Let's talk." He shrugs, exhaling smoke into the frosty air. I shoot him a wary look, barely taking a step in his direction. "I said let's talk, not have a screaming match." He mutters, rolling his eyes into the back of his head. "Why you all the way over there?" He follows my gaze to the stick between his fingers. "What? This?" He scoffs, smirking. "It's a joint, worst thing you'll get is the munchies."

Crinkling my nose, I take a couple more steps closer anyway, standing beside him, keeping a respectful distance between us.

"Listen." He sighs, taking another drag. "I know I've done some things that… I didn't necessarily have to do." He glances at me for a moment, and then faces the street lights. "Bros before hoes, you know?"

Yeah, I inwardly roll my eyes, focusing on a lonely snowflake evaporating before it reaches the ground. There's a lot to be said over people doing things that they didn't necessarily have to do. If I had a dime for every sleepless night I've had because of Jongdae's shameless mouth, I wouldn't be paying off my student loans anymore.

"Look." Jongdae takes one last drag, crushing the joint under his worn-out winter boots. "The way he is now is much better than the Baekhyun we knew back then." He nods a little to himself, meeting my gaze. "Still can't see why he decided to change his ways for you...but oh well." He mutters, lips quirking into a playful smirk at my small smile before facing the city lights again. Festival lamp-shaped snowflakes attached to the top of every streetlight beam against the dim backdrop of empty downtown buildings, prepared for the coming holidays. "You're alright for a best friend stealer."

A laugh escapes before I can slap my hands over my mouth, meeting his eye nervously only for us to both end up laughing; our amusement echoing loudly through the quiet night.

"Riley?" Jenny's confused voice peeps up, red curls rebelling against the hood of her fluffy white coat.

"Over here!" I cup my hand around my mouth, waving to get her attention.

She turns towards us, rounding the corner with quick strides. "There you are! I thought you got grabbed or something." She fusses, resting a hand on my arm, leaning closer to whisper in my ear, "Especially you. Baekhyun was two seconds from hunting you down with my head on his mantle."

"Jenny!" I snort, accepting her tight hug, my voice muffled in her puffy coat. "It kinda would be your fault though."

"I know!" She exclaims, viewing me from an arm's length away. "I was sweating out my hair."

"Baby?" That unmistakable honey voice calls. A head of fluffy silver locks and brown eyes peek around the building, catching light in the streetlights.

"Here, B," I soothe, chuckling as he speeds over to us, gathering me in his arms without hesitation.

"I thought I lost you," He mutters, hiding in my hair.

"She was gone for ten minutes," Jongdae deadpans.

"Ten minutes too long!" He pulls back to glare over at the brunet, hugging me to his chest with cheeks too rosy to be merely from a few moments out in the cold.

"Just how much of that wine did you drink?.." I narrow my eyes, cupping his flushed cheeks.

"Good thing you only bought one bottle," Jenny laughs nervously, slowly gravitating to shelter behind Jongdae's taller form.

"Enough to miss you." Baekhyun's breath leaves goosebumps on my chilled skin, his soft lips brushing my ear.

"Al-right, time to go before the lovebirds start mating." Jongdae grumbles, wrapping an arm around Jenny's beaming form. Their matching smirks have me scurrying to direct my tipsy boyfriend back towards our apartment.

"Uh—okay! See you guys next time!" I laugh to mask my burning face, gently pushing Baekhyun into the building.

"Goodnight! Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Jenny sing-songs, the smugness clear in her tone.

"Can't make any promises!" Baekhyun proclaims over his shoulder, much to my embarrassment. Thankfully he quiets down once we reach the elevator, but based on the wide eyed security guard, the damage has already been done.

Can the frozen ground just please open up and swallow me whole?

The view of this busy street differs from all the other times I've walked down it with Baekhyun by my side. Maybe because it's been almost 2 years since I've moved to this city, or that new boutique being set up at the end of the road. Whatever the case, the air is different—crisper, cleaner. Refreshing as I briskly walk to my destination, wanting to avoid being out in the cold as much as possible. The weather here is so much colder in the middle of December compared to how flowers were still budding around this time outside of my childhood home.

Humming a song that's been stuck in my head for days with my car keys spinning around my finger, I stroll into Privé Alliance's building, admiring the latest clothing line pictures hung up along the walls and waving to the new receptionist while making my way to the elevator. Many men and women in business attire are all over the place as per usual during the busiest months of the year. However, once I make it out of the crowd of chattering employees, the sight of a familiar face waiting in front of the elevator brings a smile to my face. "Kyungsoo!"

The short-haired man turns around. "Hello, Riley." He nods with a small smile as we step inside the open doors, pressing the buttons to the 5th and top floor. "Lunch date?"

"Hmm?.." Blinking a few times, I follow his gaze to the picnic basket clutched in my hand. "Oh! Yes." I chuckle, smoothing down my hair. "Sorry." Between nearly slipping on a patch of ice on the way over here and the pretty lights decorated all over the city, I've forgotten the reason I left our fridge in a disarray this morning. Who decided to store the sandwich meats at the back of the refrigerator? I know Baekhyun loves my home cooking, but damn, man, let me have a break too.

"It's alright." Kyungsoo chuckles, arching a brow. "Hopefully you can get him to relax."

"Relax? Coming from you!?" I gasp sarcastically, covering my mouth with wide eyes.

"Only because he's seconds away from firing half the 3rd floor." He mutters with a roll of his eyes, yet an apologetic smile forms on his face. "Sorry I couldn't make it to the gathering." He clears his throat while facing forward again, straightening his suit.

"It's alright," I smile, resisting the urge to chuckle at his flustered state, checking my outfit in the elevator's reflection. It may be a chilling 40 degrees—4 in celsius—but I can spare the warmth of my legs for a 2 minute walk from Privé's parking lot. No weather can tell me what I can and can't wear. If I want to rock a pencil skirt on the coldest day of the week, so be it! Plus, these two-inch heels couldn't be left behind. I can't show up at Baekhyun's workplace with the poor fashion choices I subject him to at home, so we're going, coolness over comfort.

"Life happens," I mumble, tucking rebellious locks of hair behind my ear. "I'm just glad you're doing okay." The smile that forms on his heart-shaped lips when I take a glance at him makes me beam back.

"I'll stop by sometime this week." He hums, black dress shoes tapping on the floor. "I just finished a new recipe."

"Recipe?" I blink, mildly intrigued, mentally running over the list of food I'm carrying for the 3rd time today.

"Fried ice cream cake," He smirks, nonchalantly checking his watch.

"Fried-" My jaw damn near drops to the floor. Fried? Fried!? The one ice cream Baekhyun banned me from attempting myself after burning my hand while frying fish a few days ago?! Which Baekhyun is half to blame, by the way—never sneak up on someone over a popping frying pan. It never ends well. Besides that, it also was the day I truly realized the stamina that man possesses. I have never seen someone react so quickly to shove my hand under ice-cold water in my life.

Searching for any cameras in the elevator, I step a little closer to the short-haired man, whispering discreetly behind my hand, "W-Will you bring me some?"

"The prettiest one," He promises, softly patting my shoulder, chuckling at the star-struck expression written all over my face. "This is me, I'm afraid."

"Huh?" I blink into focus, shocked to be on the 5th floor so soon. What the heck. What is it about elevator rides with Baekhyun and Kyungsoo that make them go by lightning-fast compared to the stifling, tension-filled ones with Jongdae? If you can read a room, it truly makes a difference. "Oh, don't let me keep you." I give a little wave, balancing the picnic basket on my forearm. "See you later!"

Kyungsoo nods, smiling with a wave of his own as the double doors close. It is at that moment that I freeze, recalling how Baekhyun mentioned he hired a new secretary a few weeks back. Well... shit—how do I explain why I'm arriving at his floor unannounced on a random Tuesday afternoon?

Do his employees even know we are dating?.. A small part of me doubts it. Why do I care? Oh, right—I fucking live with him!

By some miracle, no one is occupying the neatly arranged desk when the elevator opens on the top floor, saving me from the completely rushed explanation I have no idea how to even put into words. All that lies before me is an undisturbed walk to Baekhyun's office, the intimidating black door slightly ajar. I slip off my heels, rushing out of the elevator on sock-clad feet before the doors close. Baekhyun's businessman voice filters through the quiet air. He must be on the phone.

Shuffling as quietly as possible down the hallway, I peek into his office. My eyes quickly find his broad form leaning a hip against his executive desk, a phone pressed to his ear as he faces the floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the heart of Seoul. Impeccably dressed in a wrinkle-free, white dress shirt with his sleeves rolled up. His black blazer thrown over the back of his chair. Like always, the splashes of color in every corner of the room have my lips curling up, but I have to muffle a small giggle at the sight of a thin pink measuring tape hanging around his neck.

I slowly inch closer, discarding my coat and setting down the basket in one of the leather chairs. Smoothing my flower-patterned, white button-down shirt, I silently approach him, gently covering his eyes once he ends the call. "Guess who~"

Baekhyun stiffens for a moment before swiftly turning around, wrapping his arms around me and lifting me up, setting me down on his desk. He cups my cheeks in his warm palms, crashing his lips to mine before I can make a sound. "Thank god, it's you." He breathes, warm fingers sliding into my hair.

"W-Well—hello to you too." I barely manage to get out between his feverous kisses, making a noise in surprise when he pulls me flush to his chest. "What is it?" I ask softly, noticing the bothered look on his face; carefully running my fingers through his styled hair as he hides in my neck. "Another long day?"

"You have no idea." He sighs, looking up at me. "I was 2 seconds away from losing it."

"Don't-" I pause, thinking about it. A few memories of last week flash through my mind. "Well, you are kind of hot when you're angry..." In the proper context.

Baekhyun perks up, exhausted brown eyes regaining their sparkle. "Really?"

I hum to appease his hopeful expression, yelping when he pulls me into his arms, not expecting to be carried up from the desk so suddenly.

"Come here," He murmurs, walking around to sit in his chair, setting me on his lap. "I need strength to get through these reports."

Gently playing with his hair to calm down my racing heart, I tilt my head, "Do you have time for a lunch break?"

Baekhyun hums distractedly, kissing my forehead, holding me closer to his firm chest. "We can order in a little later."

Kyungsoo's words come back to mind while I watch Baekhyun continue to click around his computer, brown eyes squinted and brows furrowing more by the minute. I inwardly cringe at the move I'm about to pull, but… Our sandwiches' lifespan is ticking away. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

"But…" I pout, resting my hands flat on his chest, widening my eyes for effect as his focused orbs shift to meet mine. "But I made it."

"Let's eat now then," Baekhyun smiles, his steady gaze flickering all over my person. I swear I just witnessed his pupils dilating right before my very eyes. "Give me 5 minutes."

My lips quirk up, "One-"

"I'll set a timer." He laughs, shaking his head, reaching for his phone between his bright screen laptop and desktop PC.

Smiling in victory, I stretch across the desk to retrieve the basket, peeking at his computer accidentally. "Holy shit, is that Melody Hudson?" I straighten up, focusing on the magazine cover opened up on a famous website. "The model?" My eyes widen in awe of her tall blonde form modeling a stunning royal blue summer dress; the color bringing out the blue in her shining eyes. I place the basket on a clear spot on Baekhyun's crowded desk before rubbing his stiff shoulders. He must still be tense from work. "She's so pretty."

Baekhyun hums, placing a hand on my cheek. His gentle caress coaxes my eyes back to his. "But you're beautiful," He whispers, resting his forehead on mine, brushing a thumb over my lips.

There's nowhere to hide the red hue that springs onto my face, making him chuckle as I quickly turn back to start taking out our food.

"Would you like to accompany me to a photoshoot?" The tentative tone of his voice has me raising a brow.

"Sure!" Handing him his sandwich, I press a kiss to his cheek, carefully unwrapping my homemade fries. "I'd love to see you work behind the scenes."

"Actually..."

I look at him, mid-bite of my toasted turkey sandwich.

"I'll be in the scenes," He drops, soft lips quirking a boyish grin.

My grip on my sandwich rips a hole in the middle while preventing it from falling out of my hands. "I…"—Behind the scenes witnessing Baekhyun modeling?? With his god-tier body and knee-weakening smirks that have me crumbling from beyond a screen alone? Hell to the mother fucking yes! "O-Okay."

Baekhyun's brown orbs twinkle knowingly, an amused smile forming on his lips as he presses them to mine. "Great."

It's impossible to mask my excitement while slipping into the passenger seat of Baekhyun's Audi. The beautiful red highlights around the black interior never fail to leave my jaw dropped in awe, fingertips tempted to graze over every surface. I'd like to think a person's dream car matches their owner, and there's no denying how devilishly divine my boyfriend looks settling into the driver's seat.

Baekhyun's simple, black button-down shirt and matching jeans have me inwardly salivating—I don't even have the slightest clue of why he's going to a photoshoot today. Privé? A cover for a magazine? Possibilities are endless, but not just anyone can request an hour of his time during one of the busiest months of the year.

"Are you ready?" Baekhyun glances over at me, his unstyled hair tucked under a Privé corduroy camel baseball cap that I haven't quite seen before.

"Yes," I beam at him, tilting my head curiously. "Is that hat new? I don't think I've seen it before."

Baekhyun smirks, brown eyes glinting mischievously as he straps on his seatbelt. "Maybe." He rests a hand on the steering wheel and the other on my thigh, backing out of his designated parking space. "Hold on tight, baby. You're in for a long ride."

I blink, having no clue what kind of ride he means. When it comes to Baekhyun, you never know what you're getting yourself into, but you never really have to worry about it either. If I hadn't known him for a few years, I would have bugged him to tell me where we're going for the entire ride. But with a few years under our belt—and some long months spent sharing a close-knitted home—I can comfortably sit back and relax for the whole journey, because there is no Baekhyun without one.

•••

The parking lot outside of the building is relatively calm, with only a few staff members bringing in materials from their cars. Inside of the place, however, is a complete madhouse. Everyone is speed-walking to various rooms and popping up from behind every corner. Not a drop of silence in the heavily populated area.

"There's our man of the hour!" A tall, aged man steps forward to shake Baekhyun's hand, carefully cradling a camera strapped around his neck. "So glad you could make it. I hope we are not taking up too much of your time?" He inquires, pushing glasses further up his nose, glancing over at me.

"Oh no, of course not!" Baekhyun shakes his head, shifting closer to wrap an arm around my waist. "I invited my girlfriend to accompany me today." He clears his throat, reddening cheeks caught under the harsh spotlights. "I hope you don't mind."

"No, not at all," The man reassures, gesturing towards a staff member who quickly brings over a grey single-seat sofa. "The more the merrier. Here you go, Madam. Is the chair to your liking?"

"Yes, thank you," I smile, trying not to stutter, brushing my fingertips over Baekhyun's warm palm before taking a seat. He shoots me a little bashful grin as the photographer whisks him away, a team of stylists directing him to a chair on the opposite side of the room. It's amusing to see so many people fussing over his hair, pulling out hairspray, and presenting him with simple yet sexy articles of clothing.

A few other models are walking around in the same attire, giving off a cool vibe of the newest clothing line, but when Baekhyun steps out of a dressing room…

Holy shit.

No, seriously holy shit!

Baekhyun walks into the room, standing against a wall as stylists comb his hair over to the left side of his face, using sprites of hairspray to tuck the right side behind his ear. As if he doesn't look dangerous enough adorning a leather jacket, a black shirt with white scribbles I can barely make out from this distance, and camel pants with unique, black low-platinum shoes.

The staff directs him over to the area with a gray backdrop, lights and cameras focused all over the place. Baekhyun practically glides over there, oozing with that stunning Ceo confidence. At a closer look, I can make out the pretty image of open and outstretched hands in the white lines at the bottom of his shirt. The intriguing detail has my full attention until I feel a persistent stare.

I lift my eyes higher to meet Baekhyun's dark brown orbs—from me sitting in the back of the room or getting into character; I have no idea. Suddenly my red knitted sweater is a bit too warm despite not being in front of any bright lights. Just when I think it can't get any worse, the photographer announces that it's time to begin.

If I had known what I agreed to the other day, I would have been more prepared—or so I'd like to think. I mean, how does one prepare their feelings for watching their unfairly attractive, multi-millionaire boyfriend pose for the camera as if moments away from sweeping them off of their feet!? And not in a sweet way either. Nah, ain't nothing innocent about the lethal expression swirling within his dark brown orbs. Especially while they are pointed right at me.

The hairstyle they gave him just makes my situation worse. How am I supposed to sit still with this man gazing so intensely into the "camera"? Is this really the same drowsy Baekhyun who I have to wake up every Sunday morning? Where did his tiredness go? There ain't nothing exhausted about the way he is staring at me! And when they bring out a chair for him to sit on… No. Hell no. That's it.

Draping my sweater over the back of my chair has his covered lips curling up at the corners, I just fucking know it.

After a few more camera flashes, the stylists are back with a new outfit in tow, gesturing for Baekhyun to change. However, right as he is turning down the short hallway leading to the dressing room, someone comes rushing into the building.

"I'm so sorry I'm late!" A petite woman with a French accent flies into the hall. "Traffic was-" She skids to a halt, staring at Baekhyun as if she's seen a ghost, her brown wavy hair mid-loop of making a bun. For a long moment, nobody says a word, and then she's on the move, crossing the short distance within two furious strides.

Her slap echoes across the tall walls.

"To think I waited for you." She grits out between heated spews of French. Her gray eyes brimmed with tears shoot daggers into Baekhyun's wide-eyed ones. "To think I held onto the fact that maybe you actually cared." Her whole body shakes as staff members rush over to restrain her, calling her name over her loud obscenities in an attempt to calm her down, trying to pull her away from him before she can jump him. It takes three men to drag her back out of the building. A woman from the small crowd quickly follows, dropping a blue clipboard in her haste. We hear her panicked voice a split second before the door slams shut behind them.

I don't know when or how it happens, but I'm already on the other side of the room, reaching out for a stunned Baekhyun being fussed over by stylists. "Baekhyun?" My eyes flicker all over his shock-stricken face once they move out of the way for me. A lump forms in my throat at the look in his eyes. "B," I tentatively place my hand over his frozen one on his cheek, the red handprint visible between his fingers. "Baekhyun!"

He flinches, shaky pupils focusing on me. "Y-Yes?"

"Are you okay?" Emotions grip at my throat, making it hard to speak while my eyes keep shifting between his alarmed ones and his steadily bruising cheek. I take the ice pack a staff member hands over without a word, gently brushing his hand away to hold it to his face. "Come here."

Baekhyun silently follows me to the dressing room, seemingly in a daze as stylists vacate the room, closing the door on their way out. I lead him over to a swivel chair in front of a white vanity table, letting him settle before speaking. "What was that?"

"What was what?" He mumbles, breaking my heart at the sight of him pressing ice to his swelling cheek.

"You know what I'm talking about." Crossing my arms, I continue staring him down. "Who was that woman, Baekhyun? Why did she hit you?"

"I'll tell you later, baby." He avoids my eye and his reflection in the mirror, getting up from the chair. "Let's wrap this photoshoot up, hmm? Then we'll go home-"

Stumbling to reach the door before he does, I block his escape, looking into his conflicted eyes. "I'm not letting you leave this room until you answer me."

His lips twitch, "Baby-"

I cross my arms despite my racing heart, my stomach twisting in an ignored warning. "I need answers-"

"For fuck's sake, Riley!" He thunders, startling me so much I slam the back of my head on the doorframe. "Out of my fucking way."

I step aside without another word, turning my head away as he storms out of the room. The slamming door left in his wake has my heart jumping into my throat. Anxiety grips at my chest like a vice, making it hard to breathe. I latch onto a Privé clothing rack, holding onto it for stability.

Baekhyun's tone on the other side of the door is much calmer while talking to one of the staff. I wait for a few minutes, resting against the clothing rack until his voice drifts away; the loud taps of his shoes fading into the distance. No matter how far away he is—most likely continuing on with the photoshoot by the faint clicks of a camera echoing around the quiet building—I don't… I can't; I won't go back out there to watch him. No, not after that. I'm sure everyone in the vicinity heard what just happened.

Slipping out of the room, I gasp when I bump into someone else, my heart beating so hard it hurts to breathe. Could this day get any worse? Seriously? "I'm so sorry."

"You're fine," The same staff member I heard minutes ago with Baekhyun shakes her head, smiling in sympathy. "Tough morning, huh?"

I can only manage a deep exhale, nodding, "I guess you could say that, u-um—" I'm losing the battle against the sting steadily building behind my eyes. "Do you know where the bathroom is by any chance?"

"Just around the corner," She nods, pointing farther down the hallway. "First door on your left."

"Thank you," I breathe, hurrying down the hall. Before I can pass by her, however, I notice her angrily marking out a name with a black sharpie from the same blue clipboard that clattered to the floor earlier.

Nicole. The woman they dragged out earlier…

With tears finally breaking free from my sore eyes, I couldn't have reached the bathroom fast enough.

To my relief, the room is empty. Nothing but painfully bright lights and the porcelain floors to witness my current state. I walk up to the sinks with a shaky sigh, splattering cold water on my face. My reflection isn't a pretty sight to behold when I look into the mirror, bracing my hands on the countertop as I take in the streaks of mascara running down my face. The one day I decide to wear a non-fool-proof kind and this is what I get?

Sighing, I turn to lean my back against the counter, crossing my arms. The photoshoot is back in full swing with all the compliments the photographer is showering Baekhyun in. It's pretty pathetic of me to hide out in this ice-cold bathroom, but I rather shiver for a few minutes than face him right now. Something about the way he reacted earlier... To that woman, to me—doesn't feel right. Maybe I pushed him too far? I just… Do I not have the right to know who just slapped the hell out of my boyfriend? Hell yeah, I'll admit I want to know who she is because he's mine and she was acting as if she was waiting forever for him to recuperate her feelings, but it's not just about that. No—Nah. The deer in headlights expression on his face as her hand collided with his cheek will not leave my mind.

Whatever it is, whatever just transpired in front of me; something is off and I rather be out the line of fire while trying to figure it out.

"To think I waited for you" For what? For when? With the way things are going, I might never know the answer.

The lack of chatter filtering through the echoing walls of the room catches my attention. I tentatively peek out of the bathroom, stepping back into the hallway at the uncharacteristically quiet state of the building. Is the shoot over already? Pushing past my dimly lit surroundings, I head back to the dressing room, hesitantly standing in the open doorway. I'm confused to not find Baekhyun there, or in the main area when I poke my head over the edge of the short hallway.

"Excuse me?" I approach the nearest stylist, moving out the way of another one clumsily carrying out articles of clothing. "Have you seen Baekhyun?"

She shakes her head with a pop of her minty gum, giving me a solemn look. "Last I saw of him, he was on his way to the men's room on the other side of the building."

"Ah..." Dread fills my stomach, and something tells me that I rather not find out why. "Thank you," I murmur in passing, quickly making my way back out of the room, speeding down to the opposite hallway. The possibility that I got left behind in an unfamiliar part of the city twists my stomach into knots until I round the corner. I stumble to a halt, sucking in a breath. My heart breaks at the sight—and then the rage kicks in.

Baekhyun's broad form in his partially unbuttoned black shirt braces himself against the wall, looming over a model. Her hand is in his hair and their lips interlocked in an intimate kiss. The sight has my blood boiling—nah, it's turning into fucking lava.

"Wow." I bark out a laugh, loud and hollow, positively seething as he jumps back from her as if burned. "If you were going to cheat, you could have at least had the decency to do it behind my back." The smirk that forms on my lips is the worst kind, the ugliest kind, the kind that has fear flickering in Baekhyun's wide brown eyes. "Or was this your intention all along?"

"R-Riley-" He stares like a deer in headlights, hurrying over to me, smearing her red lipstick over his lips in his haste to rub it off with the back of his hand. "Baby, please keep it down. I can explain-"

"Nah," I shake my head, looking at him in disdain. Just the sight of him right now has me heating up with anger. I'm seeing red as the model smirks at me from over his shoulder. That bitch. "This is explanation enough." I spin on my heel before I do something I won't regret in the slightest, just for his sake.

Baekhyun's dress shoes tapping frantically behind me as I storm back into the main hall.

"Riley, baby." His grip on my wrist throws me over the edge. "Please-"

"What were you doing, huh?" A snarl forms on my face as I whirl back around, meeting his pleading eyes. "Gonna show her your failed attempts at lasting for longer than a minute?"

Everyone in the room pauses. The photographer almost drops his prized camera.

Baekhyun's face grows progressively red, and if it wasn't for the rage burning in my own veins, I'd be concerned about the vibrant hue going up to his ears right now. Just like his mishap a few days ago that would normally be insignificant, it was his grave mistake. The key that I used to fuel the fire to the flame in the most torturous of ways... Have I hit a nerve, Hyunnie?

His grip tightens on my wrist. "We," He barely gets out in an angered growl of his own, "Are leav-"

"Get your filthy-" I hiss, snatching my wrist out of his grasp, "Paws off of me." I grab my sweater on my way out, exiting the building without looking back. The bite of the cold wintry air is a relief for my heated skin. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"I drove." He says through clenched teeth, hot on my heels.

"And I'm walking." I bite back, walking past the car as he climbs into the driver's seat.

"Riley!" Baekhyun bellows, putting the Audi in gear and slowly following me out of the parking lot. "Get in the fucking car!"

I cross my arms, scoffing out a laugh. It doesn't matter where the hell I am, I'm not getting back in that car with him. Bringing me all the way out here just to pull that shit. He can kiss my ass. I knew I shouldn't have gotten in that car with him. If I had taken my own four-seat beauty that I left back at home, I'd be halfway on the way to Jenny's by now.

Baekhyun continues to follow behind me, honking obnoxiously, attracting unwanted attention from bystanders that whisper amongst themselves. Some of them pull out their phones. What a spectacle we would make for the front cover of magazines, endlessly entertainment for all their peering eyes. Pausing for a moment to weigh my options, I step towards the Audi with a sigh, climbing in without a word to the fuming man next to me.

Baekhyun drives on, clutching onto the steering wheel with both hands. His grip is so tight his knuckles turn white. I direct my gaze out of the passenger window, avoiding him at all costs within the confines of the car. The long ride home and walk up to our apartment does nothing to ease my rage. Anger continues to thump angrily in my veins as the past two hours replay in my mind.

Baekhyun unlocks the door and holds it open for me. I walk into the apartment with a scoff, moving to tug off my boots only for my back to meet the wall, the front door closing with a startling slam.

"What was that?" Baekhyun glares at me, fire burning bright in his brown orbs. He can't exactly tower over me, but by his mannerism, he doesn't need any extra height to get his point across.

"What was that?" I mumble, peeling off my shoes, ducking under his arm to cross the other side of the room. The longer I stay in these warm clothes, the more I die from the uncomfortable heat.

"No, what the actual fuck, Riley?" He shakes his head, long strands of silver hair dangling in his fury-filled eyes. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Fine." I retort, rolling my eyes and looking at him, "Who was that woman then?"

His nostrils flare. "Really?" He bites out, laughing in disbelief. "Is that really important right now?"

I cross the room in three strides, tilting my chin up to stand nose to nose with him. "It is to me if you haven't fucking noticed."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." He scoffs, stepping back. A cruel smile curls on his lips. "What should I do? I haven't paid Riley enough attention." All traces of humor leave his features, his minty breath washing over my cheeks. Baekhyun leans in again, his voice lowering into an angered growl. "Maybe if you weren't wetting yourself over me all morning, you'd figure it out."

I grind my teeth. "Who. Was. She?"

"For fuck-" Baekhyun reels back, his brown eyes rolling so hard into the back of his head a flicker of worry sparks in my chest before those dark orbs land on me again. "An ex-fling," he grits out. "Why does it matter?"

My hands fall limply to my sides. "Why didn't you tell me she would be there?" I ask. My voice is much quieter while I search his eyes for answers.

"What?" He scoffs, raising a brow. "How was I supposed to know she would be there?"

"Her name was on the roster-"

"I-" He shakes his head, pulling harshly on his hair. "What? Do you expect me to know the names of the women I've slept with?" A smirk quirks at his pink lips, his brown eyes so dark that his pupils have vanished in their mahogany depths. "Do you think I've kept some journal? " He purrs, grinning in delight when I shuffle uncomfortably on my feet. "Are you really that insecure?"

I stiffen. A bolt of something sinister shoots down my spine. Did this fucker just—

"Me?" I point to myself with wide eyes, laughing incredulously. "Me?.... You know, that's real fucking rich coming from you." I sneer, roughly tugging off my annoying turtleneck. What was once a reliable piece of clothing ends up torn in my fit of rage. I fling it out of my sight. Baekhyun's words loop over and over in my head. Even though I don't show it—they cut me. Deep. On a touchy subject. In a part of me I thought had died 2 years ago. He damn well knows it hurts when it's mentioned in such a menacing manner, and he still did it. For what? His weak stamina in wake of his long hours at work is suddenly the equivalent to the root of my trust issues?

My fingers curl so tightly into a fist, I can feel my nails pierce the skin. "You're one to talk." It's easier this way; keeping my back turned to him so I can mask the tears brimming my eyes. Who does he think he is? Who is he, period? How is this the same adoring man that was pursuing me the summer we met?.... It takes all my effort not to bolt for the front door—not to let my nose run or tears to stream down my face. No. I won't cry over him again. I won't let him win. Not like this.

Firm in my resolve, I take a deep breath before turning to him again. "You're not so confident, Mr. Big Shot..." My words falter at the sight of him ripping his shirt open, black buttons clattering all over the floor. "What-"

Baekhyun has me backed against the wall before I can utter another word. "Did you enjoy yourself?" He demands, holding my chin between his thumb and index finger. He peers down into my eyes; the familiar look held in his dark orbs has me quivering on the inside—and it isn't from fear. "Hmm? Did you enjoy embarrassing me earlier? Did you have your fun?"

I quickly recover. "Not my fault you don't know how to keep it in your pants."

"You wish you were in my pants." He grits out, lips curling mockingly.

There are so many things I want to throw up in his handsome face right now. So many little secrets and observations I've made over the past year that would make him falter—make him kneel. But today...

Today.

I choose violence.

Tangling my fingers in his hair, I yank on his delicate locks without remorse, pulling him into a brutal kiss of tongue and teeth. Baekhyun grunts in surprise, pressing me harder against the wall. The harsh clash of our mouths only seems to egg him on. The stinging bite he leaves on my bottom lip is nearly enough to break the skin. I don't know how long we stand there; my hands in his hair and his palms sliding down my back. There's no telling where he ends or I begin until the lack of air sinks in. His breathless puffs for air erupt goosebumps on my skin.

"Are we really doing this?" He pants, pulling away to brush his hair back. His eyes are more familiar to me now, softened by his calmer state, intense from the lust felt in his every touch.

I pause my exploration of his firm chest, arching a brow at him with a mocking grin. "Think you can last longer than a minute this time?"

Baekhyun clenches his jaw and steps away. For a moment, I worry if I pushed him too far until his lips crash back to mine. "Jump," He mutters gruffly, his grip near bruising on my ass.

"And if I don't..." The look in his eyes as he drags his dark brown eyes up to mine shuts me up entirely.

Baekhyun slowly leans closer, brushing his lips against the shell of my ear. "I'll fuck you against the goddamn window." The serious expression on his face combined with the threat is damn near intimidating—and I hate how aroused it leaves me.

Baekhyun hoists me up and walks to our room with quick strides, relentlessly keeping his lips glued to mine. He pushes open the door before dropping me unceremoniously onto the mattress. His lips are back on mine before I can chastise him for the mini heart attack, his impatient hands tug at the rest of my clothes. I let him pull off my pants and hurriedly move to unclip my bra in the meantime before his rough actions can rip the expensive fabric.

Baekhyun freezes above me, brown eyes transfixed on my matching red lacy set. It may be winter, but that doesn't mean I can't dress up nicely underneath endless layers of flannel and wool. Although, when I think about what happened not too long ago... Warmth fills my cheeks and I know I'm blushing way too hard to have done this countless times with him.

"Ah." Baekhyun tsks, stopping me from covering my chest. "Take it off." He breathes, soft lips brushing over my neck. "Let me see these tits bounce for me."

My eyes widen at his crude words, a gasp escapes my parted lips when he sucks harshly on a sensitive spot on my neck, pulling down the straps of my bra at a snail's pace. The poor clothing is tossed over his shoulder without a care in the world.

I'm no stranger to Baekhyun's habit of leaving pink and red hues on my skin, but today is different—today it feels like he has something to prove by trapping my skin between his teeth, marking me as his. He doesn't stop at my neck; his restless mouth ventures lower, painting my collarbones and chest with the shape of his lips.

I grit my teeth as he reaches my breasts, determined not to let him win me over so easily. It doesn't matter how much I want to melt under his warm hands mapping out the contours of my waist or tremble in anticipation at his breath fanning over my sensitive nipples. No matter what, I will not crumble... until he does first, at least.

Yeah—easier said than done with the way he's tugging my nipple with his teeth, roughly rolling the other between his fingers. It's all fun and games until his grip tightens on my hip, his pelvis grinding mercilessly against me. A move that has my back arching clear off of the mattress. He just presses me back down to the bed, continuing to alternate between each breast, pulling away minutes later with a wet pop of his lips. He's relentless in using every weak spot of mine. As if he knows what I'm trying to do.

"Not today, baby," He murmurs to my squirming form, chuckling in my ear. I can't help but bite my lip, breath caught in my throat when his hand slides down my body. His large palm covers my clothed core entirely. If it were any other day, I'd be flustered over how true his words from earlier were; the evidence of my previous admiring and current state of euphoria clear as day to his greedy hand, tugging at my last piece of clothing.

My heart races in the realization that I'm lying under him, almost completely bare, as he remains fully clothed besides the ripped shirt clinging to his broad shoulders.

"Ah," Baekhyun smacks my hands away, flashing a grin full of devious intentions. "Don't worry your pretty little head."

He's yanking my underwear down before I can get a word in, tossing them carelessly off the bed and spreading my thighs as far as they'll go.

"Always so ready for me," He muses, spreading my folds apart with his thumbs. I stop breathing entirely when he leans down, spitting onto my pussy. "Your hungry cunt has been waiting all morning for me, hmm?"

My lack of response doesn't bother him in the slightest as he meets my eye, sliding two of his long fingers into my core so suddenly I shout, grabbing his wrist. Baekhyun just pries my fingers off of him before interlocking them with his freehand, bracing our joined hands above my head. My eyes roll back at the burn of the unexpected intrusion. It's a dull, persistent ache while he shoves his fingers deeper into my cunt. He curls them up in a way that has me shaking at the seams, tugging at his silver locks as he brings me dangerously close to the edge. Right when I'm nearing my high, he pulls his fingers out, nonchalantly sucking on them while fiddling with his belt.

I gulp, relaxing back against the sheets. I can't even be mad at this point. Our argument ended the moment I started that fiery-filled kiss, but—

Baekhyun's belt clatters to the floor and his brown eyes have never looked so fierce—so carnal, I wonder if he plans to eat me alive. What I don't expect is for him to crawl further up the bed like an actual predator hunting his prey to hover over me again; his gaze not straying from mine for a second. The warmth of his body encloses me; it's second nature to relax under him when we're like this—when we're touching the tip of the iceberg before diving headfirst into the chilly depths of our lust. Sex with Baekhyun isn't like playing with fire; it's handling dry ice with bare hands.

And being in love with him is one of the most intense and excruciating experiences of my life.

We spend so much time eye-fucking each other that I'm not prepared for the bruising kiss he pulls me into, sliding his cock into my core without a warning.

"Ah—B-Baek!"

"Hmm?" He humors, his low voice filled with lust. "Now she speaks."

"Baekhyun." I gasp when he spreads my thighs wider; the pull from the unfamiliar stretch adds to his incessant pounding—his hips seeming to snap a mile a minute. Oh, please—please don't let both of us have muscle strain tomorrow morning. I swear I've never seen him move this fast for anything. Ever. Baekhyun, what the fuck? Have you started back up on your late-night visits to the gym or something? He's reaching depths he hasn't quite reached before, hitting a spot inside my core that makes me want to cringe away and slam myself onto his cock at the same time.

I yelp out when he tilts my hips at a different angle, not meaning to scratch his back so hard in my hurry to cling onto him. Baekhyun just groans, slamming rougher into me in retaliation, his teeth firmly bite down onto my shoulder.

"Baekhyun! what the—ah—fuck!?" I nearly shriek, appalled and aroused.

Baekhyun smirks, sliding a hand down to press his thumb on my clit. "What's the matter, baby?"

"B-" I can't even say his name without stammering, shaking under him when he slows down to roll his entire body against mine. The only thing I'm capable of at this point is gripping his shoulders, throwing my head back with a loud moan. I always thought of myself as not being a fan of sweat or having any strange, warm liquids touching me, but Baekhyun... Fucking Baekhyun. His sweaty chest brushing over my nipples is making me lose my damn mind—if I was feeling any more horny and adventurous, I'd lick the salty sweat off of his neck.

"Come on." Baekhyun pants with a satisfied grin. Sweat continues to drip from his honey-toned skin, sticking silver locks to his forehead. "Tell me."

The fucker, he knows exactly what's up. It's written all over his face. A part of me doesn't want to beg—my rational side. The one chastising me for falling into bed with him again in the first place. But I don't know how much longer I can take his teasing antics, so despite my stubbornness—despite the heart aching memories creeping up on me in such an intimate moment; I press my body to his.

"Fuck me like you mean it." I pant, yanking harshly on his hair, smirking at his pained hiss until his hips undulate in a new direction. The constant stimulation on my most sensitive spots has my high sneaking up on me so quickly, I don't have time to warn him.

"Bae—!"

Baekhyun's lips crash to mine, swallowing my cry of his name as I fall over that blissful edge. His cock is the only thing on my mind amongst the ringing in my ears—in the minute-long paradise where nothing else matters but our frantic hearts racing as one.

Baekhyun lets out a telling grunt before a burst of warmth fills me up. The remains of his release drip down my thighs with his erratic, shaky thrusts. He doesn't even pull out when he's done. He just leans tiredly over me, coaxing my lips into a lazy kiss. "You're the only one for me." He whispers as if sharing the biggest secret, all rosy-cheeked and wide-eyed.

Beautiful; there's no other way to describe him—in general, in this moment. Nothing compares to his mocha brown eyes that shine brighter than a million stars when his steady gaze sets on me. Nothing compares to the safety of his warm embrace that surrounds me. Nothing could come close to the way he drives me crazy in every single way. Love. Lust. Doesn't matter. If it's with him—for him, it's...

...

Is it worth it?

The emptiness I feel when he gently pulls himself from me triggers every painful memory imaginable: my birthday, the party, our summer fight, his ex, that phone call, his photoshoot...

Baekhyun collapses beside me on the bed, completely oblivious to the war going on in my head. He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me close to his beating heart.

I wait for him to fall asleep, brushing damp silver locks of hair out of his eyes as his breathing slows. He looks so peaceful like that, so innocent while his face relaxes with sleep. So... So welcoming, like home.

Tears stream down my cheeks, blurring my vision of his twitching brows and pouted lips. I hope he's happy; I hope he got what he wanted.

Carefully sliding out from under his loving hold, I quietly get dressed, collect my duffle bag, and slip out of the room, holding onto the doorknob for dear life. His quiet mumbles drift through the crack of the door, tossing and turning as if already aware of my absence. I have to cover my mouth to contain my sobs.

I love him—I really do, but I...

I can't do this.

I can't take this anymore. If he won't open up to me; if he thinks I'm... I'm unworthy of knowing his past—hell, fuck that. Apparently caring too much leads to being left behind, if that encounter this morning is anything to go by.

My laughter just ends in more sobs, the salty taste of tears on my tongue more bitter with the realization that once again, I've lost.

But at what cost?

The ache in my chest and between my legs is an answer within itself—the last push I need to retrieve my car keys from the counter.

If he wants to be that way, Baekhyun... Baekhyun can do whatever the fuck he wants. What's the difference between me and all the others? What use am I? Is it because I learned how to cook? Clean? I wonder how many of those late nights at work are actually spent bent over his sketchpad. Am I his personal little stay-at-home trophy? Does it feel good to show me around important events? After today, I might as well hang up the thought of ever stepping into his world again. No one wants a possessive girlfriend in their corner of the wrestler ring. No one needs a jealous, nosy, demanding burden weighing them down. And I have my high standards as well.

I can—and will not—be one of those girls.

Not even for him.

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

A/N: I can feel the pitchforks on the rise, l-listen (<.<) just trust me on this, not all is lost.... Or is it? 😇 I’ll try to finish the next part as soon as I can. *cracks fingers* let’s see what this troubled couple gets up to next.

#baekhyun smut #baekhyun romance #baekhyun angst #baekhyun fluff #Six Phases

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astraljedi · 4 years

Text

Coffee Crush (Evan Buckley)

A/N: first of all, I’m buck trash. I’ve been watching 911 with my roommate since season two aired, and I’ve been trying to fight it. But here I am, posting an Evan Buckley imagine. Secondly, I wrote this in a day? Who am I? Thirdly, we need more buck imagines.

Summary: Evan might be obsessed with a coffee shop, or a certain employee.

Warnings: none? Probably some bad writing.

Pairing: reader, she/her

____

Coffee never failed to bring people together, whether it was decaf or not. People enjoyed a hot cup of coffee or an iced cold-brewed coffee with their loved ones at any time of the day.

That's why Y/N had decided to open up Mamá Linda’s Coffee shop. Of course, Los Angeles had hundreds of know coffee chains around de City. But it didn’t stop her from owning her place, she fought hard for it and gave it her all until she finally made it.

It always packed all day, and she was on her feet since early in the morning until late at night. There wasn't a day where she wasn’t helping her staff on the bar and behind the kitchen. She was an all-hands in kind of woman.

Week 1

The job was exhausting, but a day never passed by that wasn't full of some entertainment—especially this week in particular.

“Y/N, we have a 10 in uniform,” Selena whispered to her while calling the shots for the current drink she had. They all spoke in codes, and a ten means someone attractive was in the shop. “Those piercing blue eyes could make me forget that I’m a married woman.”

Selena always made her day with her commentary during shifts and even of them during text or calls. She was a woman full of surprises.

“He’s lost looking at the menu.” Y/N chuckled, watching him wrinkle his nose in confusion. He was wearing a black firefighter uniform like he just came off his shift or was heading there. “He looks cute.”

She found it adorable, and without notice, she had a small smile splattered on her face. The cute firefighter turned his attention back to the line and caught Y/N’s eyes staring back at him. He must have felt someone was staring at him.

Blushing uncontrollably, he smirked at her playfully. He loved flirting, and he walked around, knowing he could get any girl.

Not knowing what to do with herself, she lowered her head embarrassed and ended up spilling the steaming hot milk from her pitcher on the counter and on to her apron. Y/N’s hands were now shaking as her team watched her with wide eyes, surprised with her clumsiness. She wasn’t like this at all.

The metal pitcher fell to the floor, hushing the packed shop with the remaining milk spilling on the ground as clients looked around for the source of the accident. It made it worse for her when all her usual clients were staring at her, they were worried, but she thought they were judging her.

“Y/N, get yourself cleaned up. We can handle it here.” Selena rubbed her Y/N’s shoulders while she nodded her head in agreement quietly. Darian was already cleaning up the counter while she walked away quietly towards the back. After all that, Y/N didn’t even dare to look back at the firefighter. She felt embarrassed at how nervous and shaky she got over just one smirk.

And if it couldn’t go worse, he became a regular after that.

Week 2

The second week was torture; now she knew his name after Selena had told her a few days ago when she finally caught his name for his order. Now, Harry, one of her other employees, had found him on social media during a late stalking session. He had a crush too.

“Evan hasn’t come in today, and maybe he couldn’t come by before work or after his gym session.” Harry frowned, leaning against the marble countertop after he finished with his last customer on the line. It was around 10 am, which meant a little breathing room for the team to relax from the morning rush hour.

“Did you get his social security number while you were stalking the poor guy?” Y/N chuckled, working on the pastry case. She had made the perfect Tres Leches in the morning that she thought it deserved a spot on the pastry case for others to see the newest treat on the menu.

“I only found about his family, his ex-girlfriend, and where he works. It wasn’t a full-on stalk since I know you called dibs first.” Y/N turned around, glaring at him after she closed the pantry door.

“I did not call dibs on him.”

“Well, you did spill your pitcher full of steaming milk after the poor guy tried to flirt with you. Which you never spill your pitcher, you can do this in your sleep cupcake.” Harry added as Selena had joined them in the bar.

“I’m with Harry on this, and you did say he looked cute that day,” Selena added, drying the white plated she brought from the back.

“I did not spill because of him. I just had too much caffeine that day that I was bouncing all over the place.” Y/N tried to get her self out of it; she didn’t even want to be in the topic from the first place. “Just because I find a guy attractive doesn’t mean I want to date him.”

“You’re saying that I’m not datable?” And if her nightmare couldn't have become worst. Evan was standing behind the pastry case, gym bag over his shoulders, and a tank that left his muscular biceps the main lead of the show.

It was like deja vu. Y/N’s blushing cheeks were hard to cover as he smiled back at her. He knew she was avoiding him since the milk incident, and he finally caught her. And even better, she was talking about him with her friends.

“I see you have become a regular now.” Was that the first thing she said to him? Yeah, rude.

“What can I say? I love coffee and scenery.” Evan flirted again, knowing he made her nervous.

“Well, I think Harry knows your usual so that he will make it for you.” And as expected, Harry was already finishing his order at the end of the bar. “As a thank you for your support, it's on the house.”

Harry smiled widely at Evan as he handed the coffee cup to Evan over the counter. “Won’t your boss get mad for giving away free coffee?” Evan added before taking a sip of his drink.

“The good thing is that I’m the owner.” Y/N smirked back at him before turning around and walking towards the backroom. She looked over her shoulder, thinking she pulled off the last move, but he didn’t fail to wink back at her before Evan left the shop.

Week 3

After her last conversation with Evan, she did see him a couple of times after. And she finally learned his usual order. It was a black coffee with a splash of unsweetened almond milk topped with some cinnamon.

She did get used to seeing his face around. He did seem to enjoy the coffee. “Hey, sweet face, you’re early today.” Y/N leaned against the counter, already having his order ready for him in front of her.

“Now, you’re giving me nicknames?” He did enjoy the coffee, but he loved it the most when she greeted him with her sweet smile. He had gotten her to open up to him these couple of days, and he was happy about it. She brightened up his day.

“You just always have a sweet smile, like a toddler. Always so full of life, energy, and happiness.” And she wasn’t shy anymore on holding back the compliments.

“Then, I will call you freckles.” Evan reached towards Harry to finish paying and looked at her one last time. “You should show your freckles more. They go perfectly with your beautiful smile.” He winked at her and left the store in a hurry for work.

“If you don’t date him, I will.” Selena pushed a blushing Y/N playfully while she still stared at the door even though he was nowhere in sight anymore.

Week 4

“Good Morning Harry, did you watch the game yesterday?” Evan chatted with Harry, his eyes scanning the shop for a particular face.

“I did, and after that game, I’m embarrassed to even be from here. What a disaster it was.” Harry shrugged his shoulders, giving Evan his change. “She’s not here, she came down with the horrible flu and couldn’t risk getting all of us sick.”

“Oh, I was looking forward to seeing that smile today.” Evan frowned, placing a tip in the jar on the counter. “It was nice seeing you. Take care.”

“He looked sad when he walked in today,” Selena said, while Harry agreed.

Week 5

After spending some time in bed and being miserable at home with the flu, Y/N was finally on her feet and feeling better. The first day back and she was excited to head back to her second home, and especially to see that special someone.

But that morning, he didn’t show up at all. It was like the universe didn’t want her to see him today.

“He did come yesterday, right?” Y/N asked Selena, tapping her fingers on the counter, worrying about him. She had a feeling something was wrong, especially after Selena has told her that morning that he had been looking rough the couple of times he had come in.

“He did, he still had the sad puppy eyes, but he did order your tres leches again,” Selena confirmed, handing Y/N a warm cup of tea. Y/N felt terrible, he did leave his number for her with Harry, but she just didn’t have the courage to text first.

Maybe she was crazy, but she missed his smile and his contagious laughter while she was gone. She was looking forward to seeing him again, but she might have sent the wrong signal by not texting or even calling him after he left his number.

“I’m going for a drive, think you can stay in charge until I get back?” Y/N placed the cup on the counter and folded up one of the to-go boxes.

“If you’re going to do what I think you're going to do, then I can.” Selena chuckled, helping Y/N place the whole Tres Leches in the box.

She had driven past the station a few times before she even knew him, so thankfully, she knew the way and didn’t need to waste more time by searching it on her GPS. It was a 10-minute ride, and with her luck, traffic was lighter than usual.

“Should I call him and tell him that I’m here?” She thought, looking at the intimidating station. With her shaking hands, she built up the courage and stepped out of her car with her other hand holding on to the box.

“I bet I look pathetic.” And again, the little voice in her head returned. Her eyes wandered the area, and she only spotted a pair of legs working behind the ambulance. Hesitant, she made her way towards the figure as she held tightly on to the box in her hands. “Hi, excuse me.” She felt so small and intimidated her voice cracked a bit at the end.

“How can I help you, ma'am.” She felt so bad about interrupting him while he was just trying to do his job.

“Sorry to bother you, is Evan here? I don’t know if this is the right station-“

“Oh yeah, he’s here.” He smiled a little too friendly and immediately started shouting Evan’s name until an annoyed Evan came marching from what looked like a locker room.

“Han, why in the world are you screaming?” Buck groaned, but it took him a second to realized what was happening.

“This kind woman was asking for you.” Han smiled at Y/N kindly. Buck’s eyes widened, and his cheeks we're madly blushing when he spotted her standing right behind Han. And of course, Y/N had been blushing since he had walked out of the lockers.

“This is for all of you; I made it this morning.” Y/N held out the box, and Han didn’t hesitate to grab it from her hands.

“She brings us treats. She’s a keeper, Buck.” Han said a little too loud as he climbs up the stairs towards the small kitchen.

“I’m sorry if I’m overstepping. I got worried when you didn’t come in, and I just had a bad feeling. I needed to make sure you were alright.” Y/N rambled, her hands moving around like crazy as she tried to explain her actions. “I don’t know if you’re just nice, but I’m pretty sure we were flirting all of this time, and I just needed to see you.” With her rambling all over the place, she didn’t even notice how Buck was walking towards her slowly.

“I wanted to see you too.” Evan chuckled, grabbing her by the waist, finally pulling her closer to his body for the first time. The heat radiating between the two met as Buck lowered down to her height to catch her lips with his.

In complete shock, Y/N’s widened at first but slowly shut them as she kissed him back. It was slow and sweet, how he imagined it to be. One of Y/N’s hands found its way towards his bicep, resting on the muscle even after he had pulled away to look at her glistening eyes. “Just as good as your coffee,” Evan mumbled, pecking her lips a few times.

They were in their little bubble until wolf whistles and cheers coming from the balcony above them. “You can come to visit us at any time if you bring more goodies as good as this dessert,” Han said with a mouth full of food. A woman standing right next to him slapped him in the shoulder, rolling his eyes at him. “Excuse my partner. He gets a little too happy over food.”

“I’ll bring more next time.” Y/N giggled as Buck held her between his arms.

#evan buckley #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley imagines #911 fic #911 imagines #911 imagine

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starrynite7114 · 4 years

Text

everything is you: ten

A/N: Good morning everyone! Happy long weekend! Hope you all are having an amazing weekend! I would like to thank you all for just all the support you’ve been showing. There has been some dark hours these past few weeks and I just appreciate all the love and support you all give me.

Got through the first week of school and it has been insane, but I think that’s what I’m used to now, along with work. lol

Snapshots and everything is you shorts: fights, should be up within the next few days.

Thank you for all the support! I really appreciate it! Enjoy! Love you all!

everything is you

Word count: 9267

Warnings: Angst, Fluffy

Masterlist

tagged list: @justahopelessssromantic : @ifoundmyhappythought : @carlaangel86 : @woahitslucyylu : @encounterthepast : @enamoured-x : @thewarriorprincessxo : @briana-mishell24 : @bribri-82 : @chibsytelford : @agirllovespasta : @twistnet : @everyhowlmarksthedead : @trulysuccubus : @jadert15 : @sammskellington : @cind-in-real-life : @claytoncardenasbabymama : @sadeyesgf : @thickemadame : @summertimesadnesswithadashofsass : @gemini0410 : @elcococruz : @samcrobae : @sesamepancakes : @iambabyharry : @blackmissfrizzle : @mrs-losa : @1-800-imagines : @phoenixhalliwell : @lady-pswrld : @dazzledamazon : @getyourcrayoncas : @fvckthisbxtchup : @lukealvxz : @scuzmunkie : @lilac-tea-time : @danie1432 : @cocotheclown : @soaronmywings : @my-rosegold-soul : @buttercup812 : @itskiranbitch : @angelreyesgirl : @sheeshgivemeabreak : @vicmackeybullshxt : @bigcreatorwombatdreamer : @khyharah : @strawberrywritings : @cherry-icetea : @fuzzy-jellyfish : @losolvidad0s : @brownsugarcoffy : @courtrae89 : @prdsdjarin : @blessedboo : @marvelmaree : @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat : @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead : @thesandbeneathmytoes : @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind : @maddie-georges : @pearlkitten33 : @aquamento : @incorrect-mcdanno : @that-chick212 : @imanerdychubbyqueen : @glimmerglittergirl : @itsamedeemoney

If anyone would l like to be added to the tag list, please let me know! <3

Alena and Angel’s brunch date never happened.

He was going to confess, let everything out.

But Angel got sick.

For the next few days, Angel was fighting off the flu and Alena refused to leave his side. She kept Cruz at Felipe’s and her mother’s just so she could take care of Angel and assure Cruz wouldn’t get sick. But Angel was being stubborn and wouldn't let Alena take care of him since he didn’t want to get her sick.

It was endearing, but she knew Angel was usually a whiner when he was sick. She wasn’t exactly sure why he wouldn’t let her take care of him.

Alena poured soup into a bowl, placing Angel’s second dose of Motrin and Tylenol. She also placed a few lozenges to help with his cough and a glass of orange juice and a bottle of water. Angel insisted she texted him when his food was ready so he could just go get the food himself. She had him believing that she left at night to go to Felipe’s to sleep, but in reality, she’s been sleeping on the couch or Cruz’s room.

Turning the television on, she placed a pillow on one end of the couch and laid down. She hasn’t slept much since she was worried for Angel. She knew it was just the flu, but being sick was the worst, at least she hated it.

Angel

‘Food is ready.’

She placed her cell phone down beside her resting one hand under her cheek laying against the pillow. She put on some HGTV show and let out a yawn.

Angel came out of the room, muscle shirt and basketball shorts hanging low. He still felt congested and the fevers still gave him the chills. But he felt stronger than last night that was for sure. He heard the television on and knew Alena stayed till he went to sleep at night. His nights were a blur since his fevers seem the worst then. He hoped she went to his pops at night, but he knew her. He was almost sure she slept on Cruz’s bed or the couch.

Picking up the tray of food, he felt bad leaving Alena alone especially since she made the food for him. This was killing him since he had an elaborate plan to confess to her, but instead, she was taking care of him. He began eating the soup, glancing at Alena ever so often. Once he was done, he drank the medication and popped a lozenge in his mouth. Making his way over to the couch, he realized Alena fell asleep.

His heart fluttered, seeing the peaceful state Alena was in. He loved it when she took care of him, but he also didn’t want her to get sick since the flu took such a toll on her due to her asthma.

“You’re so stubborn cielo.” He coughed, covering his mouth, shaking his head. Pushing the coffee table away from her. He placed pillows right beside the couch in case Alena fell. The sun’s rays reflected on her ring, making Angel smile. He was going to put a new ring around her finger, but first, he was going to confess to her and go from there.

Angel went back to bed, wanting to recover quicker so he could have Cruz and Alena back in his arms.

“Angel,” he heard Alena breathily say as he stood up.

For a moment he thought she woke up, but her eyes were closed.

“I love you.”

Angel’s smile widened if that was possible. He couldn’t wait to tell her how he felt.

Later that night, it was around midnight when Alena went to check on Angel. The lights were all off and she knew Angel preferred to sleep with everything off, but he kept things on for her. She hated the dark ever since she was a child. Her imagination always ran wild and she hated going in a dark room. But she had to tough it out since she didn’t want to wake Angel.

She had a small night light near her side of the bed that provided some lighting. She also used her flashlight in her phone, which was dimmed down so it wasn’t too bright. She sat at the armchair at the corner of their room, which Angel placed for her to read when she didn’t want to go to bed yet. She had a throw blanket on there. Sitting down she placed the blanket on her, extending her legs on the footrest in front of the armchair.

The humidifier was on, definitely helping Angel out with this congestion. He texted her that he was beginning to feel better, but still preferred for her to stay away. Which was fine, she just wanted to make sure he was okay then she would sleep in Cruz's room.

Laying her head against the armchair, she watched Angel’s sleeping figure. She missed his touch and constant kisses. She’s not sure why he was more physical than usual, but she wasn’t complaining. With him being sick, Angel kept to himself, which wasn’t like him.

He most likely didn’t want to take care of her when she became ill, which she didn’t blame him. She always tried to go to her mother’s house when she was sick since her mother knew best, but Angel insisted he took care of her.

Maybe it was due to him thinking she would hold it against him, but she wouldn’t. She understood that he couldn’t always take care of her and that was okay.

Can’t always rely on Angel.

Before Alena knew it, sleep overtook her.

Angel jolted awake, breathing heavily.

Nightmares were a bitch, especially when it involved Alena and Marvin. Even though he killed the bastard, the revelation that he touched Alena haunted Angel. He made excuses by using him for Alena’s nightmares and he couldn’t get over that. His nightmares ranged from watching Alena be touched by him or hearing Alena cry out for Angel.

It was awful.

He became more oriented and shook his head. The feeling of congestion was not as strong as before, his headache was gone. His eyes were adjusting to the darkness and finally honed it on Alena who was sleeping on the armchair. Angel frowned, sighing at the sight. His cielo was too stubborn.

Quickly, he used the bathroom before coming back out and walking over to Alena. He picked her up in his arms, careful to not wake her and placed her on their bed. He placed the blanket over her and himself, letting Alena lay her head on his chest. Angel felt more at ease having Alena in his arms after that nightmare.

Marvin wouldn’t touch his cielo ever again.

“I know you can’t hear me right now Alena, but I love you so much.” Angel spoke to Alena often when she was asleep. He’s done it more times than he’s proud of, but he would tell her about all the things he had no courage to do so while she was awake. He rubbed her arm softly, up and down. “I got rid of Marvin for you, he’ll never bother you again. Why do you have to be so stubborn? You’re going to end up sick and I would have to take care of you.” He chuckled. “I don’t mind though, I love how cuddly you are when you’re sick and the red nose you have due to the irritation of the tissue on your nose. It’s okay, I’ll take care of you even though you’re not going to want me to because I can never pass up a chance to be with you cielo.”

Angel slept soundly for the first time in days.

When Alena woke up, she didn’t want to move since the armchair was so warm, so soft, and hard. She snuggled her face deeper and Angel’s familiar scent hit her. She sat up, startling Angel awake as well.

“Oh no, did I go in bed with you?” Alena didn’t remember going to bed with Angel. The last thing she remembered was resting her eyes for a few hours, but she meant to wake up.

“Absolutely cielo, you almost had your way with me, but I resisted.” Angel teased Alena.

She blushed. Alena got out of bed and went to their bathroom. She heard Angel laughing.

When she came out, Angel was still laying in bed. He looked at her and reached out to her.

“Come here cielo.”

Alena bit her lower lip. “No it’s okay, I’m sorry I slept next to you. I know you didn’t want me near you.”

“Yes, well I hate seeing you sick, but at this point, since you don’t care, then I want all the loving, let’s go.” He patted the space beside him.

“I should cook breakfast.” Alena grabbed her phone that Angel placed at her bedside table. She quickly made her exit and thought of what to make.

Angel got up begrudgingly and followed after Alena. He found her in the kitchen starting breakfast.

“I’m feeling better.” Angel announced.

And he sounded better too.

“You’re not as congested.” Alena turned to face him and was surprised how close he was to her. “Angel, you’re too close.”

“Alena, you were literally draped over me last night, this isn’t close enough.” Angel chuckled, biting his lower lip as he looked down at Alena. “Can I kiss you?”

Alena was at a daze, Angel biting his lip was always so fucking hot. Then he ran his tongue over his lips too? There was just so much she could do.

She nodded her head making Angel groan. He cupped her face and kissed her. Alena wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened their kiss. He made a rule then, he didn’t care if she was sick or he was sick, he would kiss her regardless. He missed her lips far too much.

Angel pulled away, placing quick pecks on her lips to let Alena breathe. She wasn’t sure how she felt about this, but she already made up her mind that she would enjoy this for as long as she had it. Angel was too addicting and this was what she always imagined it would be when she was with Angel, but this was still something else.

“I missed you.” Angel wrapped his arms around Alena who mimicked his actions. “Go sit down, I’ll cook breakfast.”

“You’re still recovering.”

“Come on Alena, I’ve been down for four days, I can make a meal.” He kissed her again, Alena pulled away this time so she could put space between them.

“Okay, I’ll call Victor back then since he called me this morning.” She stepped away and grabbed her phone before Angel could pull her back.

“I fucking hate that guy.”

===================

Angel was sitting on the couch with Cruz, waiting for Alena to call him since she was on a girls trip with her mother, Vicki and Carla. They went to Vegas to visit Michelle’s younger sister. It was an impromptu trip and it made Angel antsy, but he was glad Alena could enjoy herself.

His phone rang and it was Coco. He sighed, wishing it was Alena instead.

“What’s up man?” Angel greeted, looking down at Cruz who looked up at him knowing it wasn’t his mother since his father wasn’t smiling like he did when his mother called.

“Hey, hermano, fuck.” Coco took a deep breath, not knowing how to tell Angel. “I didn’t, Alena didn’t tell me that you didn’t know. I thought, I don’t even fucking know.” Coco knew Alena wasn’t supposed to be in town. But Letty called him in a panic asking if he could meet them at Alena’s place in San Diego. Alena became really sick and her inhalers along with her nebulizers were no longer working. “Alena is being admitted to the hospital. They said she has pneumonia.”

Angel almost dropped his phone. “What? No, she’s in Vegas with her mom.”

“No, fuck, see I knew she didn’t tell you.” Coco watched as Alena slept, with Letty sitting beside her bed. “She got really sick a few days ago. We’re in San Diego.”

“No, come on man, what do you really want?”

“Angel, do you think I would lie to you about this? Alena said you knew she was in the hospital, but no one could take care of Cruz. She said that she told you to stay put, which I don’t know why I believed.” Coco shook his head. “I know things are weird between you and EZ, but I called him, told him to come to your place so he could take care of Cruz.”

This wasn’t happening. Alena would tell him if she got sick, especially if she got this bad. Why didn’t she call him? Why did she call Letty and Coco? Angel wasn’t even angry he was just hurt. They spoke yesterday and she seemed fine, she didn’t want to FaceTime which was weird, but she mostly requested to talk to Cruz. They had a brief conversation but otherwise, she was mostly talking to Cruz.

How could she have gotten this bad in the span of four days.

“Cruz wouldn’t want to be away from her.” Angel stood up, Cruz watching him.

“Alena wouldn’t want him here.”

“Apparently she didn’t want me there either.” He walked out the front door, yelling out a few expletives. Alena would do this shit to him. How could she keep him in the dark? He felt his heart race as nervousness filled him. He knew pneumonia could be deadly, especially with Alena’s history.

“Right now isn’t the time to be upset about petty shit like this Angel.”

“You think it’s petty for me to be upset that my wife didn’t tell me that she’s sick?” Angel scoffed. “She at Kaiser?”

“Yeah man, just cool it. The last thing she needs is for you to give her shit. You know how she is, she doesn’t like worrying you.”

“Oppose to this?”

“Just get your ass here. If you’re going to give her shit, don’t bother coming.”

Angel sat down on the couch in Alena’s room, Cruz sleeping on his lap, head resting just below his chest.

This was always hard for Angel.

He’s only seen Alena in the hospital twice. The one prior episode today was when she had another terrible asthma attack and that was difficult. Seeing these machines around her, the beeping, the medications, it was absolutely difficult.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of her because he was afraid she would disappear. She had the nasal cannula on her nose, her vitals looked stable. Carla came to visit and was pleased that Alena seemed to be responding to the antibiotics well.

Angel closed his eyes, just wanting to rest it for a few minutes. He heard the door open and cracked one of his eyes open. Bryan walked in, taking off his jacket and sitting beside his sister’s beside.

“Alena, why do you do this to yourself?” Bryan sighed. “I told you Angel could take care of himself.”

“Can you tell Angel to leave in the morning? I don’t want Cruz to get sick.” Angel was surprised to hear Alena speak. He thought she was sleeping.

“That’s not the main reason you want him to leave.” Bryan received a text message from his sister, requesting for him to come up once Angel and Cruz were asleep. Coco, Letty, and Bryan were downstairs, waiting to switch with Angel. They knew it wouldn’t happen, so they took turns going up to accompany Angel. “Come on Alena, let Angel be there for you, he always has been there for you. Fuck, even more than me.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, you’re making up for it.” Angel hated hearing Alena just pushing everything aside. Like her brother didn’t escort her out of their home and to the streets. Angel has never fully forgiven Bryan and he hasn’t forgiven himself either.

“You’re too nice, baby sister.”

Angel tried his best to remain calm and keep to himself. But he knew he would be able to stay quiet for long.

“You’re going to keep pushing him away?”

“Yes, it’d be easier for both of us. He didn’t want me anywhere near him when he was sick.” Angel almost shook his head. His wife was too ridiculous at times.

“Do you ever think that Angel does things for you?”

“Yes, of course, but I know it gets tiring taking care of me. He’s been worrying about me for 15 years. You got tired. Umma got tired. Appa got tired.” Her tone sounded defeated. “He’ll get tired.”

He wasn’t going to let this happen.

“Can you leave us?” Angel’s voice startled the siblings.

Bryan looked at Angel. He saw Angel’s eye cracked open, it was the reason he prompted Alena to talk. Air out these grievances so they could fuckinhr make up already.

“Of course.” Bryan stood up and took Cruz from Angel. Turning back to Alena, he gave her a small smile. “Has father reached out to you?”

“Yes.”

Well, this was a revelation.

“He wants to come see you.”

“No.”

“Of course, I just wanted to see if he truly did reach out to you.” Bryan kissed the top of his sister’s head before leaving her with Angel.

Angel stood up, Alena refusing to look at him and just looked at her hands that were folded over her phone that rested on her lap.

“How you feeling?” Angel took Bryan’s previous seat, moving closer his arm was on her bed.

“I’m okay, how are you? How’s Cruz? You shouldn’t have come, Cruz could get sick.” Alena looked up at Angel then, where she expected to see anger and annoyance, all she saw was concern and hurt. “I’m sorry Angel, I just didn’t want to worry you. I was fine and I don’t know. I’m sorry you had to come here. I’m sorry I troubled you. Just go home and I’ll be home as soon as I’m discharged.”

“I didn’t know this is how badly I’ve hurt you. That you think I wouldn’t want to take care of you? I’ve never once walked away from you Alena, why can’t you trust me and not push me away?”

“It’s not on purpose.”

“But it is, you’re pushing me away. You think this is better? Me finding out from Coco that you got sick? I was pushing you away while I was sick because I can’t stand the sight of you being sick. You think I was pushing you away cause I didn’t want to take care of you?” Angel felt the tears welling up, the frustration and sadness overtaking him. “You’re the best thing in my life Alena, I would spend the rest of my life taking care of you. But seeing you sick? With all these machines and medications connected to you? It’s painful and I fucking hate seeing it. So if I have to push you away for a few days no matter how much I wanted to hold you, that’s fine, as long as we didn’t get here.”

Alena watched as the tears fell from Angel’s eyes, her heart clenching as they did. She placed her hand on top of his, Angel immediately intertwining their hands. He leaned forward resting their hands against his lips then his forehead.

Angel was always good at keeping his emotions in check, Alena knew that. But he knew under that rough exterior was a good hearted man who always wanted the best for the people he loves. He loves fiercely and it was the main reason she fell for him.

“I can’t live without you Alena, I don’t know how to.” Angel sobbed out.

Alena began to cry as well. She hated watching Angel cry, it was far too painful for her.

“I can’t either.” She confessed.

“Then stop this craziness. There’s no point in life will I ever walk away from you and the same goes for you. It’s always been you and me against the world with Cruz.” Angel sniffled, wiping his eyes. “Let me in Alena.”

“My father texted me last night, he told me that it’s been five years since we got married and that he would pay for our divorce.” Alena saw Angel’s eyes darkened, the tears no longer an issue.

“What?” The audacity of that asshole to meddle in their relationship. He hasn’t contacted Alena in four years. No happy birthdays, merry Christmas, how are yous, nothing. And now he had the audacity to tell her to divorce him and would provide the money for it? “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No, he said he’ll pay you a hefty amount if you sign it.” Alena sighed. “I said no.”

Angel internally thanked the heavens, but nodded his head outwardly.

“I thought you blocked his number and why does your brother still work for the motherfucker?”

“Bryan’s an adult, he can make his choices.” Alena coughed away from Angel, covering her mouth. “I did, guess he changed it. He also said he wanted to make amends.”

“How do you feel about that?” It was a no for Angel, but he knew how kind his wife was, he didn’t want to influence her decision.

“Nothing, there’s nothing to make amends.” Alena gave him a small smile. “I never needed my father when I felt alone, I don’t need him now.”

Angel nodded his head. “I support whatever you want cielo.” He kisses the back of her hand. “Once you get better, you want to grab that brunch we’ve been talking about?”

“I would love that.”

===================

A week later, Angel and Alena finally had their brunch.

Mr. Johnson gave Alena another 2 weeks off to recover and just work from home. It made things much easier on Alena especially with Cruz starting school.

Angel watched as Alena walked ahead of him on the dirt road that led to a cliff that overlooked Santo Padre. There was a bench under a tree at the top, it was a nice place to just hang out and enjoy people’s company.

He was doing it today. He was going to tell Alena how he felt.

This morning, he took her out for brunch at the diner she loves right at the entrance of town. He wasn’t sure why she liked it so much since the food was subpar, but Alena loved it.

So he had to ask her why she did. There were so many better places to eat breakfast in town.

===================

“Why do you like this place so much?” Angel shook the ketchup bottle, squeezing the bottle to get some on his scrambled eggs.

“I don’t know, I’ve always liked their omelettes.” She shrugged. She wasn’t sure she wanted to tell him that this diner held memories for them. The first time she ever cried about a boy, Angel brought her to this diner and got her a milkshake. The second time she came here with Angel, her father just left her family and he took her out for milkshakes again at two in the morning. The third time she came here with Angel, she just got her heart broken for the first time by a boyfriend who dated her since she was smart and he needed someone to do his work for him. The fourth time was when they had a celebratory milkshake cause she got her job with Mr. Johnson.

The last time prior to this one, she and Angel brought Cruz home from the orphanage.

The diner held so many memories for her, ones she shared with Angel, that she always just had a soft spot for it.

“I know that’s a lie because half of their egg dishes are fucking terrible.” Angel passed the ketchup to her so Alena could put some on the side for her hash browns.

“Angel, don’t be mean.” Alena scolded. “You always go here.”

“Because you fucking like it here.”

“You don’t like it here?” Alena frowned.

“No, I mean, I can eat anywhere you know this. I bring you here cause you love coming here.” Angel didn’t want her to think that he didn’t want to be here. He did, whatever she wanted, he was okay with. “Why do you like it here?”

“Um, I’m embarrassed to say.”

“Why? We tell each other everything.” And he did tell her everything, well maybe till recently he didn’t tell her how he truly felt, but now he did. He told her he loved her the other day, but it didn’t seem to register, but he was going to make sure it did now. “Is it sexual?” He teased.

“No.” She laughed. God, he loved her laugh. “You brought me here when I was crying about that one guy I had an awful crush on. And after that you always brought me here when I was feeling down. Guess it just held a special place to me.” She shrugged.

Angel was surprised by her admission. The only reason he brought her here then was due to the fact it was the only thing he could afford that wasn’t fast food. Then afterwards, he brought her here cause she always suggested it when they would go out.

“Damn cielo, so sentimental.”

“Angel, don’t be mean. I honestly thought this was your spot.” Alena blushed, stuffing her mouth with some omelette.

“Hey, you know every place in this town holds memories for us. Most important part is that we’re together and we can keep creating memories together.” He gave her this playful smirk making Alena blush further.

She hated the effect Angel had on her.

===================

Angel watched as Alena did her victory dance when she reached the top. She looked down at him, smiling as she waited. God, he really loved her smile. With everything going on with Ezekiel and his father, he was glad he had Alena and Cruz. They were his family and he only needed them.

Once he got to the top, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him. He cupped her face and kissed her. Leaving quick pecks on her lips after pulling away, she giggled and walked away from him. She looked down at Santo Padre, enjoying the nice breeze that was currently passing through.

“You don’t mind if I scream right?” Alena turned back to face Angel.

He shook his head. “That’s why I brought you here.”

Whenever Alena felt frustrated, Angel brought her in the middle of nowhere so she could scream. He liked seeing Alena letting her frustrations out.

Alena screamed, Angel laughing as she continued to yell.

“Don’t overdo it baby.” Angel yelled out to her.

Alena took a deep breath and smiled. She felt like a weight was lifted off her shoulders.

“Where do you see yourself in five years?” She heard Angel ask.

She turned to face him and he was seated at the bench below the tree, providing an ample amount of shade. His arms spread out on the top of the bench, legs stretched out in front of him.

“I don’t know, you know me, I never have a plan.” Alena shrugged. Angel was acting odd today. He’s been asking her of her future plans, what she wanted to do for Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s Day. Maybe he was just preparing how holidays would work since they would be separating soon. She understood, but it sucked that it still hurt when she thought about it. She should have walked away a long time ago, but how could she? “Crying maybe because Cruz is gonna be ten.”

He was also very public with his display of affection. He would hold her hand, kiss her, wrap his arms around her, it was really hard on her today. It was like he was preparing her for the heartache.

“You wanna know mine?”

He was done wasting time.

“Sure.” She walked over to him, sitting on the other end of the bench, keeping the distance between them.

“Why are you sitting so far away?” Angel pulled her against him, wrapping an arm around her middle. He intertwined their hands, placing it on his lap. “In five years, I want us to have at least two more kids with one more in the way. Then I hope by then we can all just live together and we can get rid of your apartment in San Diego. We should get a bigger place too, maybe one with a casita so that mom can stay there. I just want us to be together in 5 years.”

Alena froze hearing his plan. Them? To be together?

“What?” She pulled away from him.

Angel kept a hold on her hand, not letting her run away. “I was serious when I told you Alena, I love you. I’ve always loved you. This has nothing to do with Cruz or whatever fucking excuse you could think about, but you’re the love of my life and I can’t let you go.” Angel paused, kissing the back of her hand. “I don’t care if you kissed Victor. I know you feel something for him, but if you give me a chance, I can show you that it’s worth staying with me, just give me a chance cielo.”

“Um, I, but you never liked me, not in this way.” Alena took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean what am I doing? I’m fucking confessing to you.” Angel knew he fucked up due to his constant back and forth with Alena, but he really wanted a chance to prove to her that he was worthy. “I would never force you Alena, but I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Alena took her hand and walked away from Angel. He frowned, unsure of what to make of her reaction. He wanted to hold her, reassure her, but he figured that wasn’t what she needed.

“You can’t do this!” Alena was frustrated. How could Angel do this now? She wasn’t sure what this was, but there was no way Angel was in love with her.

“What do you mean I can’t do this? You think I can control what I feel about you? You have me going crazy Alena! I’ve been in love with you, but every time I get the courage to confess, something gets in the way.” Angel stood up, walking over to her. “I’m not going to let Victor get in the way.”

“Why did you keep saying that you didn’t feel anything for me?”

“Because it was easier than having to deal with what I feel for you. I never thought I deserved you Alena and people constantly remind me of that. But I honestly don’t care because I realized that I can’t live without you, I rather live with my insecurities than let you go.” Angel watched as she wrapped her arms around herself, unsure of what to do. “I know you love me. After everything we’ve been through I know some part of you loves me. Everything you’ve done for me, given up for me.” Angel paused, remembering Alena’s confession. “Why didn’t you tell me about Paris?”

Alena sighed. She wanted to tell Angel, she did. Well, she technically told him that she was rejected from the program, but it was just a small lie.

“Who told you?” She breathed out, he was lucky it was quiet cause he wouldn’t have heard her otherwise.

“You didn’t.” Well she didn’t technically.

Alena sighed. “I don’t know, I wasn’t sure if I was going.” She wasn’t exactly sure why she was lying. It was a thing of the past and she didn’t leave. She wanted to tell Angel, but she knew if he requested for her to stay put, she would do it no questions asked.

“But you were going.”

“I was, I wanted to start fresh and move on from you. I couldn’t keep waiting for something that was never going to come.” Alena turned away from him then. She hated conversations like this, confessing, telling someone things that you never meant for them to hear. Well, she always wanted to tell Angel, but it just was never the right time. “But then Cruz came and I couldn’t leave.”

“Why?” Angel wanted her to say it, to tell him that she was in love with him too, just like she did a few nights ago.

“Because you needed me and I could never walk away from you. I love you far too much to do so. When we got married, it felt so real and great. I’ve always wanted to marry you and when it finally happened, it wasn’t my ideal scenario, but it happened.” Alena remembered how happy she was to marry Angel. Even though the reasons were not the reasons she wanted, she didn’t care since she was a Reyes. She could enjoy having Angel at any capacity. “I know we had a timeline and you most likely would be with other people while we were married, but knowing we could raise Cruz together was enough for me. That I can be there for you in any way I can be. You’ve always saved me and for once, I could repay you.”

Angel felt his heart clench as he listened to Alena. He knew that’s how she felt. That she did everything for him knowing she would get hurt. How could she be so naive and stupid? And the fact she thought he stepped out on her and swallowed it since she knew what she was signing up for, it upset him further.

“I know all the women at the clubhouse want you, hell half of Santo Padre wants you. All of these women befriended me to get close to you and I couldn’t blame them. I know they all thought I was stupid for taking on this role but when I met Cruz, all I could think of was you and how much you deserve to be a father to this child who looked just like you.” Alena wiped the tears falling from her eyes. “Meeting you has been the best thing that happened to me. You saved me from that coach, from losing myself when my parents separated, when my father kicked me out and they turned their back on me. I don’t know what’s going on, but you don’t have to do this. This may be some guilt cause I gave up Paris or whatever, but it’s okay. I’m sure you're antsy to get out of this marriage.” Alena forced herself to laugh. “I hope I wasn’t that much of a pain while we were married with all my appointments and medication stuff. I’ll still be here for you and Cruz, but can you just do me a favor? Tell me when you meet someone so I can mentally prepare myself.” She wanted to disappear, to go back to her car and just recollect herself. Being so vulnerable was difficult for her.

Angel hated hearing Alena talk in that way. How could she think that she didn’t matter to him? That he could even walk away from her? That this whole thing was his guilt about Paris? The fuck? This woman drove him fucking crazy, but he loves her, so he’ll fight her demons for her.

“Alena, there’s no one else I want to be with than you. I told you I haven’t been with anyone since we got married. Can you stop pushing yourself to the side and let me love you? I’m not your father, I’m not going to leave you. I’m not going to hurt you if I can prevent it.” Angel wrapped his arms around her from behind. “I’m all in Alena, just give me a chance to prove it and I’ll give you the world.” He leaned his forehead against the back of her head, praying to god she would give him that chance.

Alena placed her hand over her mouth, the tears freely falling. This had to be a dream. Angel Ignacio Reyes was confessing to her and she couldn’t even believe it. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself at such an unbelievable moment.

“I would never sign those papers Alena, unless you want me to. Do you want me to sign those papers?” Alena hasn’t served him the papers, but he didn’t want to get there. It would break him if she ever handed him divorce papers.

Alena’s shoulders were shaking so he knew she was crying. He didn’t want her to cry.

He opened his mouth to further convince her, but she turned around wrapping her arms around him.

She shook her head, “no, I don’t want you to. Please don’t leave me.”

“Fuck cielo, I never will if I can help it.” Angel looked up, thanking god. He really didn’t know who he saved or who he fucking killed in a past life, but thank fucking god.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” He heard her ask.

He pulled away from her and kissed her. He knew it would take some time, but after all the shit he put her through, he would do anything for her.

“Yes, I want you and only you.” Angel chuckled. “God, I can’t even tell you how happy I am.”

Alena wiped her tears. “So what are we?”

“We’re husband and wife. We’re not going to fucking regressed, you’re my wife, I’m your husband, no ifs, maybes, or but’s. Just you and me.”

Alena nodded her head. “Okay, that’s good with me.”

“No more secret dates with Victor.”

“No more secret dates.” Alena laughed.

“Did you really have feelings for him?”

“Yes, but they’re not as strong as what I feel for you.”

Angel figured since they were getting everything out in the open, he might as well bring up what she told him while she was intoxicated.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the coach?”

“I did tell you.” She was confused by his statement since he was one of the few people that she told.

“No, you never told me that he threatened me which was why you let him touch you in the first place.”

Alena frowned, she never told anyone else that except Coco. How did Angel find out? Her eyes closed then. Her dream wasn’t a dream, Angel was really there. “No, oh my god, you were there, it wasn’t a dream.” Alena pulled away from him, a pressure in her chest appearing as her breathing slightly quickened. She never wanted Angel to find out. No one needed to know that. She was never drinking again and if she was, she would go to a place with no reception.

“Alena, how could you not have told me?” He wanted to start fresh with Alena, no secrets.

“Because you would have been ridden with guilt. You always protected me and I had to protect you.” Alena wrapped her arms around herself, hating this conversation. She didn’t mean to withheld information from Angel. She just didn’t want to upset him.

“Baby, I just, you didn’t have to go through that for me. I’m not worth it.”

Alena frowned. “To me you were, still are.”

“Alena, how long did he abuse you?”

“I told you three months.” Ailee looked up at Angel, his hands on his hips as he shook his head. “It was.”

“Alena, don’t lie, please.” Angel pleaded.

“Nine months.”

Angel turned away from her, yelling out fuck. Alena watched him, frowning at his reaction. She wasn’t afraid, she just felt terrible for keeping it from him.

“Alena, nine months?” Angel felt his heart clench as he imagined what Alena had to endure due to her need to protect him. “Nine months? Cielo,” Angel walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her. He let out a breath that was mixed with a sob. “Fuck, Alena, why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“It wasn’t bad at first, I know it’s not an excuse but, I don’t know.” Alena frowned, holding on to Angel’s shirt that was under his kutte. “I didn’t want to trouble you, I thought he would stop after the first time, but he didn’t.” She felt her tears well up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep it from you.”

Angel pulled away from her, cupping her face. He wiped the tears falling from her eyes. “No more secrets, okay? We’re a fucking team baby, don’t keep anything from me so you can hurt on your own. I love you Alena, please trust me and be honest with me. I tell you everything, it might hurt you, but I want you to know cause we’re a team.”

Alena nodded, sniffling as the tears kept coming. She was terrible at sharing, she was used to sitting in her own pain. But she should know Angel was here for her, he always has been.

She just didn’t want to burden him any further.

“Listen, I’m going to take care of you, Cruz and our future children till I take my last breath. Alena, you haven’t been alone since you were eleven years old. I’m always going to be here, you’re not a burden and even if you were I will carry you.” Angel knew full disclosure was full disclosure. “I killed him.”

“What?” Alena looked up at him.

“He came back here, I ran into him at the grocery store the day after you got drunk.” Angel sighed, caressing her face with his thumb. “The anger I felt, it was, I can’t even explain it. He used me as some sort of excuse for your nightmare and I couldn’t forgive that. I couldn’t let him continue on while you relieved your nightmare over and over again. I had to make sure he wouldn’t hurt you again, that he won’t be able to hurt anyone else again.”

“You didn’t have to kill him for me Angel, I wouldn’t want you to do that.” Alena frowned, but she knew why Angel had to do it. She wasn’t celebrating his death, but she wasn’t upset either.

“I would do anything to keep you safe Alena.” Angel pulled her against him again.

This was the start of their new chapter. No more secret looks or feelings, everything was out in the open.

Angel never felt more relieved than he did now.

It was him and Alena against the world, just like it’s always been.

===================

Myrna watched as Cruz ran back inside from the backyard, Riz following after him. She smirked. She knew how she could win Cruz over, comfort him when he got hurt. She stuck her leg out, causing Cruz to fall, landing on his forearm. He turned, sitting down, and held his right arm. He let out a loud cry, causing all of the girls to come in, with the exception of Maxine who saw the entire exchange.

“Oh no Cruz,” Myrna crouched down, taking the young boy in her arms. She had to admit, this might have been a mistake since he was obnoxious as hell. She picked him up, standing up and tapping his back in an attempt to comfort him. “Are you okay?”

“The fuck you mean is he okay?” Riz took Cruz from Myrna, shaking his head. “You tripped him.”

“I did not, it was an accident.” Myrna argued.

“Mommy!” He cried out, still holding his arm.

Maxine stood up and was about to take Cruz from Riz when Alena and Angel walked in, Angel’s arm wrapped around her shoulders, the biggest smiles on their faces.

“Baby?” Alena immediately frowned, making her way towards Riz who was rubbing Cruz’s back to soothe him. He was glaring at Myrna, who looked like she wanted to disappear.

Cruz immediately turned to Alena, reaching for her with his uninjured arm. Alena quickly took him, soothingly rubbing his back and whispering, ‘its okay’, into his ear. Angel narrowed his eyes at Myrna who looked like a deer caught in headlights. Maxine shook her head, in disbelief that Myrna would stoop this low.

“Myrna tripped Cruz.”

Fuck that bitch.

“What?!” Myrna exclaimed, quickly turning to Maxine. “You fucking bitch, I did not.”

“Myrna, I fucking saw it too.” Riz stepped beside Maxine, glaring at the young woman before him. “I was right behind him.”

Angel’s eyes darkened, he was about to walk over to her when Alena stuck her arm out, handing Cruz over to Angel. Without any words, Angel took Cruz who was sobbing softly, burying his face at the crook of Angel’s neck. Before anyone could even register what happened, Alena punched Myrna right on the nose, causing her to fall back, holding her nose in shock.

“Listen here, I don’t care if you have a problem with me. You want to be a bitch to me? That’s fine. But don’t you ever hurt my son again or I wouldn’t think twice of doing more damage to you.” Alena warned. “Stay the fuck away from my son, if you even come anywhere near him, I’ll break your nose again. While we’re at it stay the fuck away from my husband too.”

Myrna nodded her head, slightly terrified by the frightening tone Alena had. Maybe she pushed it to the limit this time. Vicky, who saw the whole exchange clapped.

“Get the fuck out of my house, pack your shit and be out before the end of the night.” Vicky added, wrapping her arm around Alena and leading her away so she couldn’t do anymore damage.

Angel watched the whole scene before him and he wasn’t even ashamed to say that it turned him on. Assertive Alena was something else. Whenever she went to mama bear mode protecting their kid, it did something to him.

Did she just say stay the fuck away from her husband?

Was his cielo protecting him? Was she being possessive over him?

Fuck, he had to have her.

He felt like a teenager. He was always able to be celibate for months, but a month of not having any sexual interactions with Alena was too fucking much for him. This was just the icing on the cake.

“Damn baby, that was hot.” Angel told her when she took Cruz back.

“Shut up Angel.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Let's take him to urgent care, so we can get an X-ray or something.” Alena turned back to face the girls. She glared at Myrna before looking up to her godmother. “Thank you for taking care of Cruz, we’ll be going now.” Angel was impressed that Alena could still be so courteous after what Myrna did, but that’s how his wife was, a fucking Saint, his fucking Saint.

Alena sat in the back with Cruz, who was still holding his arm. He leaned his head on his car seat, towards the side where Alena was. She placed her hand on his leg, letting him know she was there. It didn’t take them long to arrive at the urgent care and it was thankfully empty.

The provider who saw them immediately diagnosed him with a nursemaid's elbow, which could occur during a fall. His elbow was basically displaced. The doctor on duty reduced it, moving his arm in a certain maneuver that slid it back in place. After a few minutes, the pain had subsided as Cruz stopped crying. He was sniffling but he was now moving his arm.

“Alright little man, you’re all better.” The doctor smiled down at him as he took something out of his pocket. “Look, I got you something.” He handed Cruz stickers and a lollipop. The young boy’s eyes lit up upon seeing this and thanked the doctor. “You’re very welcome. We’ll give him a sling just for comfort, but otherwise you guys are good to go.”

“Thanks doc.” Angel watched as Alena held Cruz close to her, letting him place stickers all over her. He liked watching Cruz and Alena. They may not be blood, but nothing could break their bond.

“No problem Angel, tell Bishop thanks again for the car part he obtained for me.”

“I’ll let him know.”

Once they got their discharge paper, Alena and Angel made their way to his truck. He had an arm wrapped around Alena while Cruz walked in front of them, admiring the Mickey Mouse stickers he got.

“Let’s drop Cruz off at pops.” Angel whispered into Alena’s ear.

“What? Why?” Alena thought they talked it out earlier and had nothing else to discuss.

“I really want to fuck you right now. That display with Myrna got me fucking hard, baby.” Angel pulled her against him, letting Alena feel his erection that was being suppressed by his jeans. “Come on cielo, I really want to fucking worship you.”

“No, come on Angel, Cruz just hurt himself.” She blushed at how forward Angel could be.

She saw the glint of mischief in his eyes. She knew he wouldn’t let this go.

When they arrived home, Alena ordered some pizza and wings, inviting Gilly and Coco over. She figured they would be a good distraction for Angel. When they came in through the door, Angel gave Alena an odd look before a smirk spread across his lips. He cornered her in the kitchen as she cooked some dumplings which she was craving for.

“I see what you’re doing,” he shook his head, amused by her methods. “Aren’t you off for another week baby?”

Alena’s boss went on a mini vacation with his brothers and sisters, along with his nieces and nephews, so he gave her the week off as well even after he gave her the last week off. He invited her to come along, but she chose to stay back, just to get some time away from her boss.

“Yes?” Alena gave him a questioning look.

“By the end of the night, you won’t be able to walk for at least half the week.” He kissed her before going back to the living room to sit with Gilly, Cruz and Coco.

===================

Alena threw her head back as Angel nipped at her neck, leaving hickeys all over. His fingers went in and out of her, Alena’s hips thrusting down to meet his fingers.

“Look at you baby, sucking me in. Fuck.” They were on their bed, with Alena sitting in between his legs. Angel’s other hand was under his shirt that she was wearing, tweaking her nipples with his fingers. “Mi cielo, you look so beautiful and you’re all mine.”

She threw her head back, laying it on Angel’s shoulder. Biting down on her lip, her breathing increased as she tried to chase that euphoric feeling Angel was always able to provide for her.

“Angel.” She mewled out. She was clenching around him, causing Angel to go faster with his ministrations. He whispered ‘I love yous’ into her ear, how much he adored her, and Alena came, her juices being caught by Angel’s palm as he continued to move his fingers in and out of her.

“You’re so wet baby, remember when you were teasing me, not letting me touch you?” She felt his hot breath on her ear, Alena held the hand that was covered with her juices. She turned around, kneeling in front of Angel. She took his fingers into her mouth, sucking her juices out of it. His eyes darkened, whatever punishment he thought he would give Alena was completely out of his mind.

“Fuck baby, you taste good right? You’re my favorite meal of the day.”

She moved closer to him, connecting their lips. Straddling his lap, her knees were on either side of him, cupping his face.

“I love you Angel.” Her lips hovering over his.

“I love you mi cielo.” He looked down as he watched her hand go down his chest, his abdomen, and into his boxers. Her hand wrapped around his cock, his hands resting on her hips. “Baby girl,” he breathed out as she took his precum, spreading it for lubrication. “You’re driving me crazy Alena.”

“Yeah daddy? Do you want my mouth on you?” Alena has never been so forward and Angel didn’t know where this was coming from, but he was a big fan.

“You know I do mami, always.”

Alena moved so she was kneeling in front of him again. She moved his boxers down and was about to put her mouth on him, but the knocking brought them out of their haze.

“Mommy!” They heard Cruz wail out.

Alena immediately got out of bed, picking up her discarded underwear and shorts. Angel ran to the bathroom to clean himself up while Alena went over to the door. She took a deep breath before opening the door.

Cruz immediately ran to Alena, wrapping his arms around her legs. Cruz’s bunny was with him, Cruz holding him tightly.

“What’s wrong baby?” Alena picked him up, his face immediately buried at the crook of her neck. She closed the door, locking it and made her way back on the bed. She threw the blanket on the floor, not wanting Cruz to lay down where she and Angel were fooling around.

Cruz continued to cry, not talking and just clutching Alena’s shirt. Angel came out of the bathroom and she mouthed blanket to him, which he got one from the closet down the hall. He came back and laid the blanket down. Alena was holding Cruz, rubbing his back.

“What’s wrong Cruzito?” Angel wrapped his arms around Aena and Cruz who were laying down. Angel was laying on his side, his head right next to Alena. “Did you have a nightmare?”

Cruz nodded his head, turning his head to face Angel.

“I had a dream that mommy left.”

Angel’s heart clenched hearing that since he’s had the same nightmare. It made him sad that Cruz had the same nightmare, but he knew Alena would never walk away from Cruz. From him it was possible. From Cruz? Not possible at all.

Alena turned her head to face Angel and she had tears welling up in her eyes.

“Baby, mommy would never leave you.” Alena assured him, kissing the top of her head.

“You promise?” Cruz held on tighter to Alena’s shirt.

Angel caressed Cruz’s head, trying to comfort his son. He wasn’t surprised that Cruz’s biggest fear was that Alena would leave. During the first few years of this arrangement, he was worried that Alena would get overwhelmed and walk away. Which he felt stupid for thinking since it was Alena. She stuck by him and was the best mother to Cruz. She was his best friend, partner, wife, and the love of his life.

He couldn’t imagine a world without her.

“I promise.”

Her words made Angel feel at ease, but he knew he had to prove to her that he wasn’t like everyone else. That he would always be there for her.

Everyone else might walk away, but he would never do so.

In their history, Alena was the one who has been able to walk away from him, to close him off. It was the reason he kept his feelings to himself. Alena has never rejected him and never put him second. He was always number one. Admitting that he had feelings for her would be handing her the reins and this uncertainty frightened him.

But after facing a possibility of losing her.

He couldn’t deal with that.

He’d rather give her the reins than lose her.

#angel reyes #angelreyes #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes fic #angel reyes fanfic #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fic #mayans mc fanfic #eiy

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malikmata · 3 years

Text

Notes from a Brown Boy - Kansas Diaries

*Author’s Note: Some people’s names have been changed to protect their identities

The rain was the first thing to greet me when I landed in Wichita. Overhead the gray clouds loomed, shadowing the farmland that yawned in the distance. Distance. At first glance, the city seemed like one long stretch of prairies and cracked parking lots, occasionally punctuated by billboards of grinning injury lawyers and lit up restaurant road signs.

If you spend enough time here amid the crumbling old buildings, watching the weeds sway in the vacant lots, you’ll feel the slow, inevitable creep of dread or something like it.

It’s easy to feel lonely here.

But, if you’re receptive enough, you’ll run into many friendly folks. Sometimes too friendly.

For example: During my first week, I went to Freddy’s, a local fast food chain, and ordered a crispy chicken sandwich with fries. The cashier, a young woman with glasses and short blonde hair, suddenly started confessing her fear that her 8-year old chihuahua wouldn’t live a long life.

“I still think of him as a teenager,” she said.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “He’s a chihuahua. They live long lives.”

Out here, in the most middle-of-the-road cities, you sometimes get a chance to show an act of passing kindness. While waiting in line at one of the hip, new cafes downtown, a place called Milkfloat, a tall elderly gentleman recommended which coffee and pastry to get.

“My wife says this place has the best cold brew in town.” Afterwards, grabbing his pastry and coffee, he wished me a good day. Most folks here always do and you better hope it comes true. Because here, like elsewhere, a day is filled with ordinary heartbreaks.

I will simply call her “Tita.” She works as a tailor at a department store, the only tailor working there, hemming and tapering racks full of suit pants under fluorescent lights. The nature of the job requires exact measurements and a keen eye for detail. She works hard, often skips lunch, and comes home dead tired. Her husband is recovering from 4 broken ribs after a car repair job went awry. Nothing can be done but wait until he gets better.

They live in a languid suburb on Wichita’s east side, a street with few sidewalks but plenty of lawn.

And noise. Plenty of noise. The neighborhood sits next to a car dealership. The skies overhead rumble continuously with airplanes and thunderstorms. Dogs bark at anyone who gets too close. A pickup truck blasts a corny country song as the cicadas and frogs belt out their lonely mating calls. Occasionally, a child’s laughter rises above it all.

Gossip is one of the great pastimes in towns like these. Even if you shut yourself up in your home, stories trickle in.

The neighbor across the street shot himself in the head.

The elderly couple that used to live next door got committed to a nursing home.

A fellow around the corner is on his third attempt to grow weed.

A college student starves himself morning to night so that he can save money for college.

Down the street, a kid lifts weights and punches the heavy bag hanging on his front porch.

Here, dumb luck seems, more so than in the big cities, the providence of God.

A man told me he got a job installing new carpets at a friend’s house. He was in desperate need of money, having sent most of it to his mother back home, who proceeded to gamble it away. When he ripped out the old carpet, he found a bundle of $10,000 dollars just lying there. His co-worker said, “We should split it.”

“No, no, we can’t take it.” the man said. He gave the money to his friend.

Sometime later, he went to the casino and couldn’t stop winning jackpot after jackpot. He brought home close to $16,000 in one night.

“So, if you do something good,” he told me, “God will remember that.”

Many people have come to live and die here, all of them wrapped up in the melancholic churning of faded ambitions and familial obligations.

Some people here have found something that returns them to the placidity they once felt in their youth. Sometimes that’s enough to keep them going.

For example:

I met Phil Uhlik, the namesake of the music store on E Douglas. He heard me playing an old Martin acoustic in one of the rooms. He shuffled in slightly hunched over, wearing a blue paisley shirt and brown shorts. He looked at the sunburst guitar in my hands and said, “It’s got a little beauty mark there.” He pointed to a small nick just above the sound hole. “All girls have beauty marks.” He pointed to his cheeks and smiled.

Uhlik started this music store 51 years ago and enjoys every moment of it.

“When you go to work for Boeing, that’s work,” he said. “But this, it doesn’t feel like work.” He motioned to the instruments all around him.

“How’d you get started?” I asked.

“I started off playing one of these,” he said, taking one of the accordions off a nearby shelf. As he strapped it on, all the years seemed to disappear. With a big crooked-teeth grin, he breathed life into the old accordion, his hands dancing up and down the keys. The smile never left his face as we bid farewell to each other.

I wish everyone in this world were as lucky as Phil.

I’m always seeking indie bookstores when I travel. Eighth Day Books provides much needed shelter from the summer heat. The shop was built 33 years ago and used to be located about half a mile east, in Clifton Square Village. About 17 years ago they moved to their current location, a 1920 Dutch-style colonial house on the corner of E Douglas and N Erie. Its blue trimmed windows peek through the foliage of neighboring trees.

When you walk in, you’ll see shelves of books on Christianity and Theological studies, most notably in the Eastern Orthodox tradition. I’ve never seen a bookshop with a section dedicated to Iconography.

Wichita, despite its size, feels like a small place. And with that cramped spaciousness, you’re likely to run into someone you may remember or who may remember you. Here I ran into my girlfriend’s 8th grade English teacher. A bald, bespectacled man with a gentle demeanor. After a bit of catching up, he said to us with a smile, “I hope all your dreams come true.”

The short story writer, Raymond Carver, once wrote: “Dreams… are what you wake up from.”

Wichita is a land that hypnotizes you; it makes you dream, dream of something beyond the miles of strip malls and airplane factories, beyond the shocks of wheat and windswept plains, beyond the doldrums and ennui. But it also shakes you awake, reminds you that you’re in it, that you better stop dreaming.

I’m not the religious sort anymore, having survived the regime laid down by my Catholic parents. But there is something enthralling, maybe even inspirational, when I look at the rows of beautifully painted portraits of saints and martyrs. Such solemn faces surrounded by golden halos. According to the Eastern Orthodox tradition, such paintings transcend art; they’re supposed to be windows through which you can glimpse the divine. They remind me of my grandparents with their judging eyes and moral seriousness.

My book haul for the day:

Snow Country by Yasunari Kawabata

The Diary of Anne Frank

Earthly Signs: Moscow Diaries by Marina Tsvetaeva

Near to the Wild Heart by Clarice Lispector

In that last book, I found this lovely little passage:

…”in the Revolution, as always, the weight of everyday life falls on women: previously--in sheaves, now in sacks. Everyday life is a sack with holes. And you carry it anyway.”

From Earthly Signs, P. 40

According to the 2019 United States census bureau, 15.9% of Wichita's population lives below the poverty line. That’s higher than the state average, which hovers around 11.4%. That’s not the lowest nor is it the highest in the country. As befitting its location, Kansas is right in the middle.

The minimum wage in Kansas is still $7.25 despite efforts to increase it to $15. When Covid-19 hit, city and service workers bore the brunt of the impact. You can keep all your empty slogans like “We Love Our Frontline Workers.” Congratulate me all you want for my hard work but where’s my pay?

When you see that business here has returned to normal--people freely walking around without masks, no longer socially distancing--it still feels all too strange; we spent an entire year under lockdown. There’s still a pandemic by the way.

Loved ones fell ill, died alone, hooked up to ventilators in closed off hospital rooms. I believe every interaction now carries the weight of all those deaths. My family, like so many others, didn’t escape unscathed from the pandemic. My grandpa, Amang, caught Covid. Since he was an elderly citizen (and suffering from emphysema to boot), he was among those considered most at risk. We all feared the worst. Somehow he survived. The doctors called him a “trailblazer.”

Now, with businesses back to 100% capacity, I’m afraid that, just like the 1918 Flu epidemic, the past will fade like a nightmare upon waking. But it was so much more than that; it was an avoidable tragedy.

If you want to know what this pandemic has done to people and their livelihoods, is still doing to them, take a ride through downtown.

Things were already going bad before Covid hit. Back in 2004, the writer Thomas Frank wrote,

“There were so many closed shops in Wichita… that you could drive for blocks without ever leaving their empty parking lots, running parallel to the city streets past the shut-down sporting goods stores and toy stores and farm implement stores.”

What’s the Matter with Kansas: How Conservatives Won the Heart of America, P. 75

What led to all this blight? Frank attributes the decline to:

“the conservatives’ beloved free market capitalism, a system that, at its most unrestrained, has little use for smalltown merchants or the agricultural system that supported the small towns in the first place.”

-P. 79

The same story happens in a lot of places. A megacorporation keeps eating everything around it and leaves nothing else at the table.

The people are left hurting, a pit in their stomachs, and some asshole somewhere profits off of it.

While at the DMV, I overheard this:

“You have a good day now,” the security guard said.

“I’ll try my best,” a woman said.

My girlfriend heard them too and laughed.

“You really do have to try your best in order to have a good day here.”

At some point, we hit the town with a couple friends: Monica, and her boyfriend Will. Both are musicians trying to carve out their niche in a place that, on the surface, seems apathetic to creative pursuits.

It’s impossible to not be captured by their energy. As soon as we walk into their house, Monica, with her dark blonde hair draped over her shoulders, reached in for a hug. Will, a tall and bearded fellow with a bear-like presence, also went in for the hug.

“Ready to experience some Wichita nightlife?” Monica asked.

What is the nightlife here like? A group of high school punks wanted to fight us over a couple movie theater seats. Bored kids play rounds of “Chinese Fire Drill” at stop lights. I heard a nazi biker gang rolled into town at some point during my stay. Regular things like that.

At a low-key bar downtown called Luckys, I met a guy named Cory. He told me how he met a 15 year old kid loitering here, looking lost and forlorn.

“I don’t know what kind of advice I can give you but I’ll do the best I can,” Cory said.

This is the spirit I’ve often come across during my stay: A sort of slightly intrusive compassion. For a cynical Californian like me, the behavior seems a little strange, maybe even a little annoying. But I’ve come to appreciate the candor of it.

“Guaranteed we’ll know half the people here,” Will said.

Right away, he shook hands with the bartender—a high school friend of his—and asked him how his band was doing. Afterwards, we sat down and talked. Talking, after a year of pandemic lockdown, has become a lost art to me. But a little alcohol loosened the lips and suddenly I talked as though I’d known these people my whole life.

Will sipped his whisky on the rocks and told me:

“If everything in this world is meant to break down eventually, then any act of creation becomes an act of defiance.”

It may sound naive but to me, it’s true. I think about the words of the writer, John Berger:

Compassion defies the laws of necessity. To forget yourself and identify with a stranger has a power that defies the supposed natural order of things.

--The Shape of a Pocket, P. 179

Making art has to be, in some way, a compassion act, because it involves letting the environment and the people you meet speak for themselves, allowing a collaboration.

“When a painting is lifeless it is the result of the painter not having the nerve to get close enough for a collaboration to start… Every authentic painting demonstrates a collaboration.”

--The Shape of a Pocket, P. 16

You need to open yourself up, feel what someone is saying behind their words, and hopefully, feel what they feel.

Art, like Compassion, is defiant.

Among the 4 or so Asian markets here, you can find all the ingredients you need to cook up something good. During my first week, I stopped at a place called Grace Market. Like a lot of small Asian markets, it’s family run. A father from Taiwan. A mother from Korea. The son usually helps out when he can. Today (June 23), On this warm Wednesday morning, the son is manning the cash register.

“You’re from California? I’m from there too,” he said.

“Where at?” I asked.

“Sacramento. How about you? So Cal?”

“Nah, Bay Area.”

“Funny. That’s where my parents met.”

“Small world.”

On a different day, we met the father, a jovial man who never fails to say hi when you walk in. He came here over a couple decades ago from California, doing work for the US Army in Garden City. Once his service was over, he decided to stay in Kansas.

“I think you know why,” he said.

More and more young folks these days are leaving California. The high cost of living is presumably what’s driving this exodus. I told him I was also thinking of leaving the Golden State, as much as I love the place.

“Well, a town like this has a lot of potential if you want to save money,” he said. “If I tried to start this business in California, I don’t think I could’ve done it.”

The summer heat can, with the suddenness of a lightning flash, give way to thunderous storms. Speaking as someone from California, whose home has gone through excruciating periods of drought and wildfire, these nightly downpours are a startling yet relaxing sight.

The distant boom of thunder in the distance reminds you of how much of our lives depend on the weather, how small we are in comparison, how we are never separate from the goings-on of nature. The rain doesn’t come down lightly here. At night, it smacks and drums against the window pane with all the force of an animal trying to get inside.

But I don’t find myself frightened by it so much as awed by the combined power of wind and rain colliding against our rickety old house.

Kansas lies in the Great Plains, where layers of cool and warm air often combine into a low-level jet stream. Unimpeded by any natural obstacles on the wide flat plains, the wind roars across the expanse. Thunder growls over the prairie. And lightning flashes on the horizon in a fearsome red tinge.

The storm rages throughout the night, the only source of light in an ocean-sized plain.

“In general, the gods of the Wichita are spoken of as "dreams," and they are divided into four groups: Dreams-that-are-Above (Itskasanakatadiwaha), or, as the Skidi would say, the heavenly gods; and (2) Dreams-down-Here (Howwitsnetskasade), which, according to the Skidi terminology, are the earthly gods. The latter "dreams" in turn are divided into two groups: Dreams-living-in-Water (Itska-sanidwaha), and the Dreams-closest-to-Man (Tedetskasade)”

From The Mythology of the Wichita, P. 33

If you go downtown, you’ll see a sculpture called “The Keeper of the Plains.”

It’s almost 9 o’ clock when I get there, so large crowds have gathered to watch the ring of fire lit around its perimeter.

The statue was designed by indigenous artist and craftsman, Blackbear Bosin. Born in Cyril, Oklahoma, but living much of his adult life in Wichita, Kansas, Bosin was of Comanche and Kiowa descent and almost entirely self-taught as an artist.

When you come upon the Keeper of the Plains, standing tall on the fork of the Arkansas and Little Arkansas Rivers, you can’t help but feel a mix of admiration and sadness. It’s a striking statue, especially when set against the beautiful orange and lavender hues of the setting sun. But monuments like these end up reminding you of the Wichita peoples who were killed, displaced, driven from their land, and left to die in reservations, forgotten. The tribes that once lived here along the southern plains still show traces of their culture but now, you’ll see it mostly as a memory in a museum or as art hanging on the walls of a library.

I learned from a video by the Wichita Eagle that the last speaker of the Wichita language, Doris Jean Lamar, died back in 2016. It must be indescribably lonely to be the last speaker of a language. There is no one to have a conversation with, no one to whom you can confess your hopes or your regrets. But in the video, Lamar, even knowing that she is the last speaker, expresses hope that future generations will know what the language sounded like.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ScPkN_xGRI

Is forgiveness even possible when injustices are still committed today against native peoples everywhere?

Not enough can be said about the skies here, which seem at times so brilliantly marbled with peach and lavender colors that you begin to walk with your head perpetually craned upwards.

It’s this aspect, the overwhelming sense of the sublime, that will probably stay with me long after I’ve left Kansas.

I think again about the nature of dreams. It isn’t such a sin to dream about things, about things that haven’t happened yet, and about things that have happened. To quit dreaming seems too cynical, like admitting from the outset that everything is screwed, that you should stop trying.

During my stay here, I’ve met many people who aren’t so irony poisoned yet, people who are achingly sincere and kind. They haven’t stopped trying. There isn’t much room for cynicism here. I appreciate that a lot.

Farewell to you, Kansas, you and your clumps of cumulus and vast fields of cows and grass. I’ll see you again.

Check out Will’s music! It’s gloomy, melancholy, and LOUD!: https://teamtremolo.bandcamp.com/album/intruder

#diary #photoblog #photo diary #midwest #kansas #travel diaries

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love-and-monsters · 4 years

Text

Werewolf Girlfriend

F werewolf X GN human, 2,995 words.

Welcome to Fortune Falls! I thought it might be nice to create a shared town for some of my monsters, so here’s the first installment that takes place there. Meet the locals with the help of Alice, a friendly werewolf.

The idea of moving to Fortune Falls was an intimidating, if also exciting, prospect. It was one of the only fully integrated towns in the country. Most towns were largely occupied by one species. There were numerous reasons for it, some better than others. Most towns were built to house the population that founded them. Usually, the effort was fairly practical- harpies built tall, perch-like houses, nagas were much more comfortable in underground houses, and werewolves needed a large space to run around in, and so rarely lived in cities. Species tended to found their own towns instead of adapting to another way of living, so few towns had more than one or two outliers.

Fortune Falls had been designed as a town where all species could live in harmony. It had been built to accommodate all needs and had become a bustling little place full of every kind of monster.

Which was where you came in.

Medical concerns were one of the other practical reasons monsters rarely lived together. From feather-rot in harpies to shifter sickness in werewolves, the maladies monsters could get were varied. It was difficult to find a doctor who had trained in all the different diseases each species could get. It took extensive schooling and training, but finally, you had become one of the few doctors in the country who had certification in multi-species medicine.

There was a sense of deep pride as you drove into town for your new life. You’d managed to get a position at the town’s clinic, responsible for servicing the diverse population. There were a couple specialists there, but you were the only person with general species knowledge.

You pulled up to the clinic and went inside, tugging on your white coat. You schedule was packed- while the specialists would take on the patients they knew how to treat, there were only three of them and far more species in the town. Everything else got shuffled over to you.

Despite the rush and hurry of your work, you were enjoying it. You saw a demon with weakened horns, a harpy with mites in his feathers, and even a minotaur with the flu. Each new patient was a new challenge and you enjoyed every The clinic was just about to close and you were finishing up in the front lobby when the glass doors at the front swung open. A group of people in their late twenties staggered into the office. They were all fairly muscular and looked like they’d been in quite a few scrapes- there wasn’t a single one of them without an open cut or scar. Three of them were gathered around a fourth woman in the middle, supporting her. She was favoring her right arm, and there was an unfocused look in her eyes.

Your trained eye took in the rowdy, but friendly and excitable nature of the group and made a differential diagnosis. Werewolves. They were remarkably hardy, but close to the full moon, even the older ones tended to act like rowdy teenagers. Given the way the woman was favoring her arm, you guessed she’d sprained it at best, snapped it in two at worst.

“Hey, doc!” One of the women toward the front of the group waved you down. “Got a patient for you!”

You focused on the woman in the center of the group with the injured arm. She was buff, you noticed appreciatively, with short brown hair that flopped over her eyes as she grinned sheepishly. “You’re the patient, I’m assuming?” you said.

The woman stepped forward, breaking away from the rest of her pack. “Yeah, that’s me,” she said. “We were kind of roughhousing. Did something to my arm.” She looked back at the rest of the group with a half-smile. “Wanted to walk it off, but the pack kind of dragged me here.”

“Probably a good thing. Come on back. I’ll give you an examination.” You led her into the back of the clinic and moved toward the X-ray room. “I’ll need to take a quick X-ray of that arm. Just to see if it’s broken or not.”

“Might be broken,” she said, cradling her injured arm in her good one. “It feels like that.”

You gave her a side-eye as you set up the machine. “You’ve broken your arm before?”

“Yeah. Other arm, though, not the same one.”

“You should be more careful,” you said. “And stand here. Put your arm here… All right, I’ll be back in a moment.” You stepped out of the room. Her eyes followed you to the door. There was a whirring noise as the machine warmed up, then you stepped back into the room.

“How’s it look, Doc?” the woman said as you looked at the X-ray on the computer screen.

“Well, you definitely broke it,” you said. “See there?” The woman leaned close to your shoulder as you tapped at the X-ray. “There’s a little crack in your forearm. It looks like you just cracked the bone a little- not a clean break, but not shattered either. It’s not too big a crack, so I’m not going to give you a hard cast.” You led her into an examination room and gathered the materials for a sling. “Keep your arm in the bindings for a month.”

You carefully wrapped her arm and fitted it into the sling. She was still the whole time, only making the smallest of noises, even when you were sure it was hurting her. “Don’t let it get wet. And I’ll give you a prescription for some stronger pain meds.” You frowned at her. “And no shapeshifting for the month.”

She made a whining noise in her throat that sounded remarkably like a sad puppy. “But it’s the full moon next week!”

“You’re in your thirties. Surely you’ve learned to control the change by now,” you said. Werewolves had more difficulty controlling themselves on the full moon, but that was mostly an issue for younger wolves. Once they passed their mid-twenties, most werewolves were pretty good at controlling their change.

“Yeah, but it’s the full moon! We always go out on the full moon…” She trailed off when she saw your glare. “Okay, Doc. I’ll stay inside.”

You walked her back outside of the room and she was immediately surrounded by her small pack. They talked over one another in their eagerness to ask her how she was. She was utterly swept away under a wave of affection. You smiled at them. It was nice watching their group, if a little sad. Moving had meant leaving your old life behind and your job was busy enough that you hadn’t had an opportunity to get together with anyone.

“Take the prescription,” you said, passing her the piece of paper through her circle of wolves, “and remember what I said about transforming.” She grinned at you and gave a wave before she was swept out the door by her companions.

You hadn’t been expecting to see her for another few weeks, so when you stepped out of the examining room at the end of the day a week and a half later, you were surprised to see her standing there.

=It didn’t take long for your surprise to turn to annoyance. Her sling was not around her arm, but held limply in one hand and there was a sheepish smile on her face. “Let me guess,” you said in a dry voice. “You decided to transform.”

“It wasn’t exactly a decision,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck. “My pack came by on the full moon and I was already struggling not to transform and they really, really wanted me to come with them and it just kind of… happened?”

“Mmhmm,” you said, lifting an eyebrow. She was at least five inches taller than you, but she shrank under your gaze.

“Sorry,” she said. “Uh. I thought maybe I could get away without coming back, but my arm is, uh. Really starting to bother me.”

You let out a gusty sigh. “Come on in.” You held the door open, letting her walk past you into the examining room.

It didn’t take long to hook the sling back up around her arm and set everything back in place. She remained quiet the entire time, only occasionally looking up at you. Admittedly, she had some very good puppy-dog eyes. Maybe you were just tired, but they were kind of melting your heart.

She was your last patient of the day, so you walked out with her. “You should be careful about driving with that sling,” you told her. She gave a shrug and an easy smile.

“I don’t drive. I walked here. I was just going to walk home.”

“How far away do you live?” you asked. “It’s not far, is it?”

She wasn’t a terribly good liar and her eyes immediately dropped to the ground. “Uh. I mean… not too far.”

You sighed. “Some to my car. I’ll drop you off.”

“I don’t want to put you out,” she said.

“I’ll consider it part of your visit. I don’t want you deciding to run home as a wolf or something,” you said.

“I wouldn’t-” she began, but you turned your steely gaze onto her and she shied away a little. “Okay. Okay. I’ll come with you.”

She hopped into your car and you headed off into the night. “Thanks for this,” she said. “I mean it, Doc.” She paused for a moment. “Hey, I never introduced myself to you. I’m Alice.”

“I know. I looked at your file,” you said. Alice rubbed the back of her neck, turning to stare out the window. You cringed. Damn your poor social skills. “Um. Sorry.” You told her your name. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah! You’re new around here, aren’t you?” Alice asked. You nodded. “Thought so. Hey, maybe I can show you around a little bit? I’ve lived here, like, my whole life.”

“Er,” you hesitated. In that moment, you turned your head to Alice, which was a mistake. Her eyes were in full puppy dog mode and it tugged at your heartstrings like nothing else. “Oh, all right. I’m off tomorrow, if that works for you.”

“Sure does! I’m a ranger in the woods with my packmates, they’ll cover for me if I ask.” Hm. Park ranger. That worked well as a career for a werewolf.

Eventually, you pulled your car to a stop outside of Alice’s house. It was toward the outskirts of town, bordering the woods. She waved to you as she trotted to her house. “I’ll see you tomorrow!” she called.

You drove back home. There was a bundle of nerves buzzing in the pit of your stomach. You pushed it away. This wasn’t a date. Not really. She was just being friendly. Werewolves were like that.

A little after lunch the next day, you drove to Alice’s house. She was waiting for you outside, springing eagerly to your car. “Hey! Glad you’re here. You ready for a tour?”

“Sure,” you said. “Where do you want to start?”

She had you park on the main street of town and hopped out of the car. You hadn’t had a great look at the town the last few times you’d driven by. Now, you noticed exactly how interesting the architecture was. There were few stairs, probably to assist the nagas. A couple perches stood high above the streets for harpies to land on. A couple of stores boasted supplies for magic practice and a few more of them had obvious specialty foods for some of the specialized residents. You noticed more than one shop sporting blood or raw meat on their signs.

“Never been to a fully integrated town before?” Alice asked, taking in your startled expression. You shook your head.

“Afraid not.”

“That’s wild to me. I’ve lived here my whole entire life. I can’t even imagine a place without all monsters living together.”

“It is pretty amazing. All these different people with different needs living together,” you said. Alice nodded.

“Come on, I’m going to give you the full tour!”

She pulled you along street after street, showing off store after store. A few were specific in their target demographic- scale care probably wasn’t going to be useful for anyone but nagas and maybe some demons. But most at least tried to be open to a variety of species. You saw store after store until they blurred together in your mind. Eventually, you found yourself sitting outside a café, Alice chatting with the horned waiter.

The amount of people she knew was astounding. There hadn’t been a single person she hadn’t at least known the name of, and most of them she was at least familiar with. Werewolves were typically friendly, but Alice took it to an extreme you’d never seen before.

“What do you think of the town so far?” she asked, turning to you. “Pretty nice, isn’t it?”

“It’s very nice,” you said. “Very… friendly.”

“We’re all nice here. It’s part of the town’s charm! Plus, my family’s been here for a long, long time. We’re one of the first families here.”

“You helped found the town?” you asked.

“My family did! Not me. I’m not that old.” She made a face and you laughed. “If you’re interested, you can talk to grandma about it. Her mom and dad were some of the original founders.”

“Maybe,” you said. “If you don’t mind seeing more of me, I guess.”

“Nah, I don’t mind! You’re, uh. Really nice.” Alice busied herself with her coffee, so you couldn’t really see her expression.

“Even if I’m strict about your sling?” you said.

“You’re a doctor. You’re supposed to take care of me, even if I’m not always smart enough to do it myself.”

“Well, I know that instincts can be strong for werewolves. I feel sorry I couldn’t do more for you.”

“Well, until medical magic can heal bones in one snap, I don’t think there’s much either of us could do about it. I’m just really happy you were willing to see me after hours. You didn’t have to.”

You shrugged. “I took an oath. I’m never going to leave a patient injured.”

“You’re a good person,” Alice said. There was a tender note in her voice and you could feel your face heating up.

Alice dragged you around the town for the rest of the day. You saw shop after shop, got introduced to person after person, and by the end of the day, you felt like you’d seen ever last corner of the town.

“Thank you for the tour,” you said as you dropped Alice off at her home. She shrugged.

“Least I could do. And hey, I wouldn’t mind helping you out if you need anything else around town. I know this place like the back of my hand and I’m always willing to help someone out.” She gave you a thumbs up and you smiled back.

“I think I might take you up on that. I’ll see you soon.” You watched as Alice trotted back to her house.

As it turned out, you called on Alice much more often as time went by. It was for little things, really. You would ask her what places in town served the best coffee, where you should go for a good haircut. Then you started asking her for help around the house. It had started with you casually mentioning that there were a few lights in your house that flickered constantly. Alice had said she was good with her hands, so she came over and started fixing things. After that, you’d started mentioning little issues with your house to her. More often than not, she had some idea of how to fix it, and when she didn’t know, she knew someone who did know. You’d been spending an awful lot of time hanging around her. It was honestly the highlight of your day, to get home and spend some time with her.

She stopped by your office a couple weeks later. “Seeing me at work now?” you asked when you saw her walk into the waiting room. She gave her usual friendly smile.

“You said you wanted to look at my arm before you have me the all-clear,” she said. “Figured it would be easier to do it here than in your house.”

“I wouldn’t have minded,” you said. “Come on into the back so I can get a look at you.”

Alice sat down on the examination table and you removed the sling. “How’s the house?” Alice asked as you prodded gently at her arm. “I feel like I’ve fixed everything in there.”

“It’s a pretty old house,” you said. “I guess it needed some fixing up.”

Alice grinned. “Hey. I don’t mind. The company’s good. I guess what I meant was that I’m a little worried.”

You lifted your gaze from her arm. “What about? You arm seems pretty good. I think you can go back to running around as a wolf.”

“Not about that,” Alice said. “I mean, now that your house doesn’t have any more things for me to fix, and my arm’s all fixed up, we don’t have a reason to see each other anymore, right?” She shrugged. “Might have to go and get myself hurt again just so I can see you!”

“Don’t you dare!” you said. Alice snorted with laughter and you felt yourself grinning along. “Hey, if I can think of something else for us to do together, you think you can stop yourself from getting hurt again?”

Alice pretended to think about it. “Maybe. What did you have in mind?”

“Come over to my house on Saturday and you’ll find out. But only if you keep yourself safe,” you said.

“I can do that,” Alice said. She slid off the examination table and grinned at you. “I’ll see you then.”

#exophilia #monster girlfriend #werewolf #werewolf girflfriend #monster gf #werewolf gf #monster lover

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drawlfoy · 4 years

Text

Mirror, Mirror P.5

masterlist (<- to read parts 1-4) request guidelines want to be tagged?

pairing: draco x ravenclaw!reader

request: nope!

summary: y/n has admired draco from afar for a hot minute. what will happen when they’re finally paired up to do rounds together and run into the mirror of erised?

warnings: language, mentions of being very very ill, my terrible editing skills, way too much dialogue

a/n: here it is :) it’s been a bit. the finale will hopefully be posted this tues! i hope all of you guys have been continuing to social distance and i hope everyone reading this is healthy! also, important update: the first part of just a call away has been postponed until this monday (i originally expected it to be posted tomorrow but i’ve hardly been able to work on it at all). enjoy!

word count: 2.3k ;)

music recs:

permanent tags: @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn

tags for mirror, mirror: @theres-a-dog-outside-omg @mey-rapp @kaibie @blackpinkdolan @sugarbby99

“Rena, I am going to kill you!”

Y/N’s roommate looked up, the fear of Merlin struck into her eyes. The Transfiguration study guide in front of her lay entirely forgotten as she watched her friend slam the door and flop on the bed. “Oh?”

Y/N flung off her robe and tossed it on the floor. “When were you gonna tell me that you talked to Malfoy about me?”

Her roommate narrowed her eyes, leaning forward in her chair and propping her chin up on her hand. “What are you talking about? He approached me and asked if you knew what the mirror was. I said you did. That was it.”

The venom seeped out of Y/N’s expression as the realization crept in.

“Oh. Oh, Rena, I’m sorry. I had no idea. He told me that you told him ‘everything’.”

“And you took a Slytherin’s word? Malfoy’s word? Honestly, Y/N, you give me a headache.” Rena sent a gentle smile her way. “What happened? Did you tell him?”

A sour feeling crept into Y/N’s chest as the memory she had suppressed on the walk to her dorm surfaced like bile in her throat. The rest of their shift was tense at best and downright agonizing at worst. Malfoy was uncharacteristically quiet, wringing his hands over and over again and scratching the back of his neck when he exhausted his wrists. Y/N knew that she was bright red by the time that they said their goodbyes--which really wasn’t much of a goodbye, just an uncomfortable nod before they parted ways to their respective dormitories--and cursed the fact that their ending spot was right under a torch.

She would much rather prefer him to just straight up tell her he wasn’t into her; however, she supposed he technically did, that week or so ago in the Great Hall when he had told her he wasn’t into Ravenclaws.

Maybe I’m the one that needs to pull back. Maybe I’m actually the git in this situation and I’m making Malfoy feel uncomfortable.

“Yeah. I did.”

“And?”

“That’s it. He doesn’t feel the same way.” The words left her mouth feeling like heavy lead, weighing her breath down.

Rena stood up from her chair, her face softening. “He said that?”

“He didn’t say anything, really.”

“Well that doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel the same way,” said her roommate. Her voice was painfully cheerful for Y/N. “Maybe he’s just nervous.”

Y/N offered a weak smile as she pulled her hair out of her ponytail and got up to rifle through her drawers to find something to sleep in. “It’s over, Rena. I don’t know why I’ve entertained this for so long. It wasn’t even a thing to begin with. I just want to go to bed.”

“All I’m saying is that he’s Malfoy, Y/N. I’ve literally never seen him flirt before in his life. I don’t think he knows how. Maybe he’s just being mean because he doesn’t know any other way?”

“I think I just want to stop thinking about it.” Y/N began changing into her nightclothes quickly with her back to Rena. “I want to go to bed and forgot about it and get my O on the Transfiguration exam tomorrow and just never think about rich daddy’s boys again. No matter how cute they look!”

Y/N tossed her old robes in her hamper, turning to Rena one more time with a blazing expression on her face that said I dare you to disagree.

“All I’m saying,” Rena said slowly, “Is that Malfoy didn’t seem like a total rat when he came up and asked me about you. It just seems strange that he would do that if he had no interest in you.”

“The only interest he has is in antagonizing me,” Y/N snapped. “He’s a class A git and I hate him.”

Rena raised an eyebrow, her expression slightly amused. “Whatever you say, Y/N. We can talk tomorrow morning. I think you need some sleep.”

oOo

Y/N’s dreams were torturous--just a loop, replaying over and over again, of her interactions with a certain Slytherin. She was dragged through her memories against her will, feeling the initial admiration of seeing him read in the courtyard for the first time, crumbling under the anxiety of their shift assignments, suffocating through the tension of their final meeting, reeling at the way his hair looked under the torch lights…

It was too much. She awoke with a pounding headache and a throat so sore that she may as well have swallowed a healthy spoonful of fire over the night. Her eyes hurt to open, like the edges of her eyelids had been lined with Dittany.

“Merlin, Y/N, you look like shit.” A voice that sounded suspiciously like her roommate wafted from her right side, but she couldn’t be sure. “I’ve gotta get you to Madame Pomfrey.”

“Rena?”

“Y/N?”

If she hadn’t felt like she was toeing the line between the dead and the living she would’ve been sure that the tone in her roommate’s voice was tinged with amusement. She tried to croak something more out.

“Don’t worry, Y/N,” Rena cut in before she could try any harder. “I’ll be back in just a minute. Don’t try and get up, alright? You need your strength.”

Y/N nodded--or at least, she tried--and turned back into her pillow to sleep. A part of her mind registered that she had a Transfiguration exam today and then rounds that night with Malfoy, but as a cold bead of sweat ran down her spine, the thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind. He could wait. He’d already taken up her entire night by filling her dreams and she was not eager to see him again any time soon.

“Y/N?” The door creaked open and her roommate’s voice dragged her back to lucidity. “Hi girly. Can you walk?”

Y/N forced her eyes open and winced at the light filtering through the curtains. It was hardly light out, but the weak morning light sent pangs through her head. The heavy quilt that she had been burrowed under was lifted up off of her...and the shivers started.

Her entire body began shaking, her teeth clattering together so hard that she was afraid she would break them. She wondered if anyone had ever chipped their teeth from fever chills.

“Just swing your legs around the edge...yes, just like that…”

Rena’s hands held her shoulders with a firm grip as she shakily made her way to her feet, swaying slightly.

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re absolutely shaking…”

“Mmmhmmm” was all Y/N had the sense to use as a reply.

“All you need to do is make it down the stairs. I can put you in a wheelchair and push you the rest of the way.”

“Love you,” Y/N mumbled as her friend guided her down the stairs. Even though she’d been walking up the stairs to her dorm for years, everything felt oddly foreign to her through her feverish haze.

“Love you t--whoa! Easy.” Rena caught Y/N from near demise as she almost missed a stair. “You’re almost there, doll. Just hold on a bit more.”

“I need you to....” find someone to cover my rounds tonight she tried to say, but the words caught on what felt like daggers in her throat as she felt the wall.

“Focus on getting down the stairs,” Rena interrupted. “You can tell me once we’re on the way to Pomfrey’s.”

Finally, she made it down onto the last step and allowed herself to be guided into a seat. Exhausted from her trip, she slumped back in the chair and forgot about her request as she drifted back off into her feverish dreams.

This time, they were different. Instead of interactions that had actually happened, her brain took her through a different whirlwind of events. A flurry of sensations met her--a thumb dragging across her slightly parted lips, a chaste kiss placed on her neck, a hand softly squeezing hers, a warm breath fanning across her cheek, a pair of just barely blue eyes staring down at her with so much affection that her heart skipped, a rough hand shaking her shoulder, the sting of something pressing into her wrist (a wand, she thought absently), voices around her calling her name…

Her eyes shot open as she recoiled from a burst of unbearable cold across her chest. The ceiling of the infirmary wing greeted her. Her torso was wet, and once she cast her eyes down to the end of her bed, she could see why.

Madame Pomfrey stood next to Professor Trelawny and Headmaster Dumbledore, brandishing an empty bucket in her hand.

“Thank goodness! She’s awake!”

Pomfrey sent Trelawny an irritated look as she rushed forth, muttering incantations and running diagnostic tests on Y/N’s body.

“What...what happened?” she managed, trying to sit up.

“Stay down,” Pomfry commanded, turning to her nightstand to mix a concoction of various potion ingredients.

“I just had the flu.”

Trelawny moved to the side of the bed to clasp her hand firmly in hers, a kind look in her loony eyes. “Miss Y/L/N, I’m afraid that wasn’t the case. You had an acute case of Dream Sickness. We’re lucky that you were able to wake up when you did. You’re even luckier that your roommate noticed and brought you down here.”

Y/N knitted her eyebrows together. “I’m sorry. Dream...what?”

“Dream Sickness,” the headmaster finished. “A very rare affliction that primarily affects the overthinkers in the wizarding community. Naturally, you Ravenclaws are at a higher risk than other students.”

“So who gave it to me?”

“No, dear,” said Trelawny. “It’s not contagious. It can happen to anyone, but it’s more common if you spent time around powerful magical artifacts. Have you?”

Y/N cringed at the thought.

“Er...yes, I guess I have. I ran into the Mirror of Erised on one of my prefect rounds. I never lingered, though.”

“That would do it,” Dumbledore mused. “The mirror has a tendency of...inflaming emotions. I ought to locate it and put it in a safer place.”

“So I’m okay? I can go back to classes? I have a Transfiguration exam today, and I’d really like it if I could make it.”

“McGonagall’s Transfiguration exam, I presume?” he asked.

“Yes. It’s later in the afternoon. I promise I’ll be careful!”

The adults beside her shared uncomfortable glances.

“Dear,” Trelawny began, “You’ve been here for two days.”

The air was sucked out of her lungs as the realization kicked in. “But that’s impossible! I was only sleeping for a little bit. And I had rounds! How did I miss my rounds?”

Pomfrey seemed mildly sympathetic as she emptied the mixture she had been stirring into a crystal goblet and offered it to her. “It’s normal to be disoriented after a bout of Dream Sickness. Professor Flitwick is sure to understand the situation, and if he does not, I am willing to vouch for you. Now drink. You have some recovering to do.”

oOo

Rena Severjyn was always the confrontational type. It had been a shock to her as well as her family when she’d been sorted into Ravenclaw (with all the bookworms and the teachers’ pets, as her older brothers said to her) instead of Gryffindor, but she’d grown to love her house. Studying came more naturally than cliff-jumping, or whatever it was that Gryffindors did, but when it came down to it, she had no problem with telling someone off.

So when she ran across a deliciously alone Draco Malfoy reading in the courtyard, she had no trouble walking right up to him.

“Hey, arsehat.” She plopped down next to him as he started, nearly dropping the book on the gravel walkway. “We need to talk.”

“Severjyn,” he greeted, his tone even but his eyes flickering nervously. “Do you know where your roommate is? I had to do my rounds alone last night.”

“She’s in the hospital wing. But no matter. I want to know why you’re being such an intolerable prat to her.”

His mouth opened and closed a few times, clearly trying to cope with the fact that he was at a loss for words.

“Spit it out, Malfoy. I don’t have all day.”

“Is she okay? Did something happen to her?”

Rena rolled her eyes. “No, she just decided to spend more of her time around Pomfrey. Yes, something happened to her. She’ll be fine. You’re not answering my question.”

“I don’t understand.” The crease between his brow deepened with worry.

“She said she told you how she felt and you didn’t say anything about it!”

“I’m sorry. I just got nervous.”

“Are you dense?” Rena’s voice became shriller. “You told me yourself you fancied her, and you can’t even manage a measly ‘me too’? Even though you had the whole of fucking two hours to do it?”

A blush spread across his fair cheeks as he slammed his book closed and stood up. “It’s not that easy. You know it isn’t.”

“It’s never that easy. But she was able to do it, and you even told her that you weren’t into her! Honestly, I cannot believe you.”

“Please just…” Draco evaded eye contact, dropping his eyes to the floor and grinding his toes into the gravel. “Just leave me be. I promise I’ll talk to her once she’s better. Just don’t tell her, okay? I want to do this myself.”

Rena rolled her eyes. “You better.”

final a/n: finale is coming out soon! let me know what you thought :)

#draco x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco x oc #draco malfoy x oc #draco #draco malfoy #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco x you

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