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#as you might be able to tell I didn't put as much work into these as the others since they are only side characters
tsukimara · 2 days
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જ⁀➴ 𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐭 𖹭
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✰ Pairing: Scaramouche x Gn!Assistant!Reader
✰ Scaramouche wearing his coat (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)
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You were shaking like jelly from the cold, it was always cold in Snezhnaya, but today the temperature dropped even more. Unfortunately, you forgot your coat that was special for your uniform and it was all because you overslept and had to rush.
You worked for Scaramouche, so being late wasn't even an option, especially since you were his assistant. He himself said that he didn't need anyone to help him, but then he agreed, although there was no joy on his face, on the contrary.
And so it's been 3 years since you worked with him, it was a little better than before, now he doesn't shout at you and when he gets mad at you, he just ignores you. You also noticed that you had less work than before, you no longer had to check hundreds of documents or go on dangerous missions, of course you still had a lot of work, but not as much as before.
Being his assistant also meant that you had to be around him almost constantly, so now you stood here, shivering, while he shouted at some Fatuus who was probably new and didn't understand everything yet. When Scaramouche stopped shouting at them, they quickly ran away to fix their mistakes.
"My Lord Scaramouche, wasn't that too much? After all, they are new." — If anyone else had asked him it, they probably would have ended up in the middle of the ocean with nothing, but it was you, you could tell he treated you the best out of everyone.
"If they can't do a simple job without any mistakes, I don't see a point in them working here." — He crossed his and a grimace appeared on his face. What was unusual was that he was wearing a coat, it was obvious that it didn't suit his stature, it was much too big. Then he looked you up and down.
"Do you want to be sick or something? Where's your coat?" — You were slightly surprised to hear these questions sounding concerned, which was strange coming from him.
"Oh well, I overslept and forgot to take it." — You admitted, hoping he wouldn't be mad that you overslept and that it might have caused you to be late. He sighed and shook his head. You noticed him taking off his coat and he walked over to you, covering you with his coat. You were about to say something when he suddenly started buttoning coat and he put a fluffy hood over your head, which accidentally fell into your eyes. You could hear the little chuckle from him as he adjusted the hood so you could see at least a little.
"Next time, you have to take your coat even if you're late. If you're sick, that means you won't be able to assist me, do you understand?" — His gorgeous eyes stared into yours, all you could do was nod because you didn't know what to even say. He started to walk away and you stood frozen in his coat, you could smell the faint scent of his perfume since he didn't wear it often.
"Are you coming?"
"Yes, my Lord." — You quickly ran to him, hiding your face in hood to hide your embarrassed face. What you didn't know was that he had a bit of pink on his cheeks, which he hid with that hand.
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➥ Genshin Impact Masterlist ➥ Masterlist
➥ Rules request
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wikagirl · 10 months
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I finished the less important side characters. Just wanted to draw them so I had a visual ref for when I write them.
From left to right we have:
Nicolle, Gabriellas aunt and thus her fathers younger sister. She's the middle child and as you might be able to tell from her outfit, a professional ice skater. The glitter on her dress is supposed to represent a rising phoenix, a metaphor for being "reborn" after having to drop out of skating for a while due to overexhaustion and burn out and coming back better than ever. Her career is her life, she will not talk about anything else ever. Her sister does her hair for her.
In the middle we have Alexandra, the youngest sister to Nicolle and Gabriellas father. She does heavy wheight lifting, owns a sports clothing brand and organizes sports programms to teach people that sport can be fun without needing to be competitive or for wheightloss purposes. Also graphic eyeliner is a must and her outfit is inspired by 4-time olympic gold winner Serena Williams' adorable poofy tennis outfits. Sports wear can be cute and practical. For her physique I references Emily Campbell, britains first ever medal winning womens olympic wheightlifting candidate
And last we have Waylen. Waylen is an adrenaline junkie and a member of the Hale pharma private military. He has a whole arsenal of prosthetics for different pruposes and yes those are mantis blades from cyberpunk and the prosthetic legs are inspired by that one lady from the first kingsman. He went through so many body modificatiosn that the constant switching out of parts, medications post surgeries and his overall very low self preservation instincts took a bit of a toll on his body so now he has to permanently wear the bottom part of his airfilter mask or else he will literally suffocate. All the foods he consumes must be liquid and snorkeled in through a straw and a little hatch at the front of his mask. Thanks to the previously mentioned issues he has a almost non existant feeling of hunger, meaning that he often only realizes he should eat when it's allready to late and he tips over sideways. Depending on how much coffee he has in his system he can be a representaion of every song in the misery/cpr/reeses puffs mix. The only reason for why he hasn't been kicked out of the military and sent to early retirement yet is because he's good for the morale and knows what he's doing as long as he's in a team, on his own he suddenly looses all those braincells and turns into a "stealth is optional? nice *explosions*" type bingus.
#myart#ocs#I used to hate sports growing up because in school everything was competitive#and outside of school everything seemed to be with the sole purpose of loosing wheight#in fact you can be quite active in sports and still not loose a pound simply because muscle is heavier than fat#and also because diet plays more into wheightloss than training#so to everyone who keeps calling people who don't look “normal” (notice the “”) lazy and unhealthy: plz shut the fuck up and die <3#you know absolutely nothing about the people you're looking at. their body their choice and now do me the favour and fall off a cliff#I'm really sick and tired of people trying to police other peoples bodies AND FEELINGS ABOUT THEIR BODIES under the guise of care#as you might be able to tell I didn't put as much work into these as the others since they are only side characters#that will only pop up once or twice#also since gigi is as ashy and pasty as the rind of a parmesan cheese and her aunties are significantly darker you can probably guess#she is mixed with her mom being what would be asian on planet earth and her dad is mixed black and something secret#and with something secret I mean this is still a work in progress#he'll be the bestest of best dads none of that toxic father figure bs in my house#he is inspired by christopher judge who was literally one of my childhood heroes in his role as teal'c in stargate btw#visually and personality wise I mean#a strong but still kind and caring for those he holds dear. maybe a bit odd to outsiders :3#tw eating issues#tw ed#kinda#bc of waylens digestive situation?#side characters
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hecckyeah · 11 months
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why do some people just have such an Effect on you
#okay slight ramble ahead. you have been warned#so at the place i work there's a training we have to do every year for certification#which isn't that bad because it's outside and it's fun#but the first year i was super nervous about it and worried i wouldn't do well#so it was hard to focus on much except just getting through it and passing#but the second time i was more relaxed and just able to enjoy being outside and talking with my coworkers#AND#ugh#so the guy who was there certifying us. he was around last year and me being me. my traitorous brain decided to develop the WORST crush.#in just the one day he was here#and so of course i didn't see him for a year#and mostly forgot about it#but then he came back this week#and when i tell you my traitorous brain was at it AGAIN#but it's just like. he's probably way too old for me. waY out of my league. i might never see him again. completely unreasonable#and that's fine.#i'm okay with just having a crush from a distance because it happens pretty often and most of the time it's unrealistic like now#but you know those people that just leave such a lasting impression#that just make you take a step back and go woah. THAT is a quality person who is really good at their job and really qualified and just.#of a higher caliber. if you will. which is a weird way to put it but i'm not sure how else to#like just a very admirable character#so anyways#if you've gotten this far i am so sorry. this is a side of me i don't normally display lol#it's just. i guess my standards are so high for a potential future partner that i start romanticizing the Most Unrealistic scenarios#which is probably an awful habit to have#so i should probably shut up now#just needed rant for a second#so thanks <3#katie's sleep deprived ramblings#(very literally this time)
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A Week (He Will Take You)
~
Danny moved to Gotham for school, while there he noticed that Gotham's ambient ecto was really murky for lack of a better word.
This didn't really affect him too much besides a mild headache every once in a while but that also just might be stress from all his school work so maybe not.
Anyway
This murky ecto seemed to effect the people who lived there or more importantly the ghosts,
They were visible to the human eye like most ghosts back in Amity but instead of looking very much like a ghost they still looked like humans if a bit off putting.
They all seemed to be continuing their normal lives as if still fully alive, with the people around them none the wiser.
Danny noticed this and began approaching them to figure out what was going on.
Apparently the murky ecto in the city had made it so that they were strong enough to still continue a somewhat normal life but not be able to cross over to the GZ.
In other words they were stuck in Gotham
Danny was the Ghost King so he could easily fix this problem, all he needed to do was give them a bit of pure ecto for around a week to fully stabilize them them then he would just open a portal into the GZ and they could cross over with all their things also transferring into the GZ for their new haunt.
Unfortunately this looked rather worrying to an outsider,
Imagine you're used to your neighbor being very outgoing so you and others see them a lot suddenly this man seems to appear in their life out of nowhere an at exactly one week, your neighbor and all their belongings in their home disappear no trace to be found.
You tell people and they begin saying the same story they knew someone and them a man with black hair and blue eyes appeared in their life, then they and all their things disappear in exactly one week.
Of course the police in Gotham do the bare minimum so they're no help.
But it starts to begin a trend, especially online.
"Oh careful or the blue eyed man will make you disappear in a week"
This of course after time catches the bats attention, Gordon had already given them all the information he had.
"Young adult early twenties, dark hair, blue eyes"
That was it.
The bats look into it and from their point of view Danny is a serial killer.
But they can't find the connection between all of his victims, they range from young children and the elderly from different backgrounds absolutely no connection,
Worrying enough he doesn't just make one person disappear he has taken entire families up to over a dozen, without anyone figuring out how he's doing it or why at all.
The disturbing thing also being that he seems to take everything in their home, leaving it like it has always been empty
Like no one had been living in it.
People have tried to take photos of Danny get some kind of evidence of his existence, but when they try to do it, it either comes out completely corrupted or their devise simply shuts down fully.
Danny of course has no clue what is happening he's just happy that he's able to help so many ghosts, and is trying not to fail his exams.
~
Danny leaving the house he just helped: "That went easier than I expected!"
Neighbor peeking from the window: "Shit it's that guy! "
~
Red Hood marching down into the cave: " The fucker took many from my territory without me even realizing it!"
~
Tim: "I'm pretty sure his kill count is nearing the hundreds and he just started like maybe 4 months ago, this is bad."
Barbara: " I think I got a theory, this matches up with the new school year beginning so maybe their not a Gotham native which narrows down my suspect list."
Bruce: "Hn."
Tim: "Yes thank you B for the insightful commentary"
~
Danny trying not to fall asleep while on his way to class: "Strange I keep seeing shadows following me, oh well must be the stress!"
Bats who are pretty sure Danny is the killer: "Has he done anything suspicious yet?"
~
Just an Idea
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violetrainbow412-blog · 5 months
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A fair payment [W. W.]
Willy Wonka x fem!reader
word count: 1.5k
People who might be interested: @strugglingwriterwattpad @cattail5 [Timothée masterlist]
some minor Wonka spoilers I guess! If you like it, tell me in the comments, that will make me happy :)
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“Can you mend it?” Willy asked, carefully holding his emerald green jacket that had the sleeve seam torn.
The boy had arrived a couple of weeks ago to turn the world of everyone present in the laundry upside down and, honestly, you were already beginning to enjoy his presence. You looked in the background at the blackboard that Noodle used at night to give him lessons in the hope that he would learn to read because, according to the girl's words, because of that he was almost eaten by a tiger. But in the man's words, what was important was the almost part. 
However, tonight he had asked you especially to go to his room, because he had a problem that he thought only you could solve.
“I think so, I just have to pass the needle a couple of times” you smiled.
Since your arrival Mrs. Scrubbit had used your sewing skills for her own benefit, because after all you had ended up in that mess trying to save a little to be able to buy the necessary materials to make a pretty dress that would be worth enough to advance in the business. Although, obviously, that had not been possible.
"Thank you! I'm afraid that's my only jacket."
“It will be ready in no time. I’ll just go to my room and come back, okay?” you said kindly, placing the garment in the boy's lap and earning a sweet smile from the aforementioned.
Just as Willy had his little briefcase for his chocolates, you had your own, full of threads, needles, and buttons, which you just had to grab from the floor to get everything you needed. When you arrived back you settled at the little table and he remained attentive to your every movement, pulling out a chair so he could observe what you were about to do.
“There was a boy on the ship who helped me with these things,” he began to tell you, keeping his curious nose on your shoulder “But I never thought about learning. You know, for when I had to be alone”
“Well, it's lucky you ended up here. We are a curious collection of workers,” you murmured ironically, referring to all the people gathered there against their will by the work of fate "What did you do on the ship?"
"Cook. Mostly sweet things, but I also know a couple of useful non-chocolate-related recipes. I was the chef,” he said, and you laughed at the exaggerated way he pronounced the last bit.
Willy began to tell you about some of the adventures he had had on the high seas and you listened attentively as the tip of the needle went in and out to join the fabric. It only took a few minutes to get his clothes looking like new, taking the liberty of repairing other places that also needed it.
“Put it on,” you asked, trying not to look at him too much when he did so or pay attention to the way the jacket fit him perfectly.
"It is perfect! You can't even tell it was torn, huh?” he said with emotion, feeling with his hands as much as he could. “How much do I owe you?”
“Oh, it's nothing.”
“I insist,” the man murmured. His curly hair bounced across his cheeks as he sat next to you and he lifted his small briefcase off the floor, opening it to reveal all the little bottles of ingredients. “Your talent for mine. It's a fair exchange."
You had to admit that the chocolates you had eaten were a complete delicacy, but a part of you didn't want to get used to that luxury or you knew that when Willy was gone you would miss his sweetness. In the literal and figurative sense.
Locked in that laundry it was impossible to meet many people your age and Noodle was your greatest company, as if he were a little sister to you. But now that he was there, there was a certain happiness in chatting with him, much more now that his ingenious mind had devised a way to get you out of there even if it was just for a few hours to see the light of day and get coins from the sale of the chocolates to free you of the enormous debt to Mrs. Scrubbit.
“What flavor do you want to try today? Do you want me to add some unicorn skin glitter? Rays of sunlight from a twilight on the seashore? Tears of an African crocodile?”
“Just give me something you think I need,” you replied softly.
Willy thought about it for a moment, because it wasn't the kind of answer he would have expected. What was he supposed to give you that night? A little hope? Happiness? Nostalgia? It was difficult to decide.
Through his bright eyes you watched him reflect and just a second later his hands began to work. You noticed there was a hint of mischief in his smile as he poured milk, chocolate, and the contents of a couple of jars into the processor, glancing at you from the corner of his eye from time to time.
“What are you going to do when we get out of here?” he asked suddenly, not neglecting the tasks.
“Working in a sewing workshop, I guess.”
“Why don't you open your own fashion house?” Willy suggested carefreely, as if it were a very easy thing to do, “You are a great dressmaker.”
“And you are a great dreamer”
“It's my best quality,” he exclaimed, almost offended. You waited a moment before answering.
“I just don't think it's that simple. It requires effort, time, and a lot of money…”
“We will have everything,” he interrupted you, with that optimism that characterized him. Suddenly he stopped what he was doing and one of his hands traveled to take yours. “When I open my factory, we will all be able to fulfill our dreams. And you are going to have a fashion house, I promise you.”
“You make a lot of promises,” you responded, blushing.
“And he planned to fulfill them all. I always do it"
Maybe there was something about the softness of his grip on your hand or perhaps the sparkle in his eyes that made you look away out of sheer nervousness. He seemed to be good and innocent, to the point that he probably didn't even realize how close he was to you or how inappropriate the position would be if Noodle ever walked in.
A tap interrupted your moment and then he abruptly pulled away, excited to show you the product he had just made. It was a pretty circular candy that was bright pink and seemed to be emanating smoke from the inside.
"What's that?"
“You'll have to try it to find out,” he murmured, as he extended the treat in your direction.
You had to admit that you were somewhat curious to discover what the man was offering you, so you took it between your fingers carefully, and even under his watchful gaze you took a bite.
At first it tasted like ordinary chocolate, but then it took on a strange tone, which made you feel a certain warmth in your chest that spread to your cheeks. It was a most pleasant feeling, like bubbly joy combined with the embarrassment of a hug.
You thought for a moment about what flavor that could be, without any success, until after a few seconds you realized that it wasn’t a flavor in itself, but a feeling, an experience... Was it love that Willy had given you?
“How does it taste?”
“Yummy,” you responded, covering your mouth so he wouldn’t see the wet chocolate on your tongue, but also to hide your smile “Delicious, actually. What does it contain?”
“A special and secret ingredient”
"Oh, come on! Aren’t you going to tell me?”
“I just want to know if I got it right,” he murmured and you frowned slightly, not understanding him “About what you asked for. Did I give you something you needed?”
You had to bite your lip to keep from smiling again, your cheeks feeling hot from the simple fact that he was looking at you. You thought that this could even be a love potion that you had consumed without thinking about it, just because he was the one who was offering it to you.
“We could say yes”
“We're even, then,” he exclaimed as he waved the sleeve of his jacket and you nodded in amusement, eating the rest of the chocolate he had made for you.
A yawn leaving your lips made you aware of how exhausted you were and although you didn't love the idea, you knew it was time to leave.
“It's late, I should go to sleep before we wake anyone up.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Willy said quickly, getting up from his seat to accompany you to the exit. “I'll see you tomorrow.”
“Rest,” you said kindly, and, gathering courage, you leaned forward a little to say goodbye with a hug that he gladly returned.
As you walked down the hall to your shabby, damp room, you thought that it probably wouldn't have even taken a love potion to fall for the charms of the pleasant chocolatier. You just needed one of his smiles.
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ms-demeanor · 5 months
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Why reblog machine-generated art?
When I was ten years old I took a photography class where we developed black and white photos by projecting light on papers bathed in chemicals. If we wanted to change something in the image, we had to go through a gradual, arduous process called dodging and burning.
When I was fifteen years old I used photoshop for the first time, and I remember clicking on the clone tool or the blur tool and feeling like I was cheating.
When I was twenty eight I got my first smartphone. The phone could edit photos. A few taps with my thumb were enough to apply filters and change contrast and even spot correct. I was holding in my hand something more powerful than the huge light machines I'd first used to edit images.
When I was thirty six, just a few weeks ago, I took a photo class that used Lightroom Classic and again, it felt like cheating. It made me really understand how much the color profiles of popular web images I'd been seeing for years had been pumped and tweaked and layered with local edits to make something that, to my eyes, didn't much resemble photography. To me, photography is light on paper. It's what you capture in the lens. It's not automatic skin smoothing and a local filter to boost the sky. This reminded me a lot more of the photomanipulations my friend used to make on deviantart; layered things with unnatural colors that put wings on buildings or turned an eye into a swimming pool. It didn't remake the images to that extent, obviously, but it tipped into the uncanny valley. More real than real, more saturated more sharp and more present than the actual world my lens saw. And that was before I found the AI assisted filters and the tool that would identify the whole sky for you, picking pieces of it out from between leaves.
You know, it's funny, when people talk about artists who might lose their jobs to AI they don't talk about the people who have already had to move on from their photo editing work because of technology. You used to be able to get paid for basic photo manipulation, you know? If you were quick with a lasso or skilled with masks you could get a pretty decent chunk of change by pulling subjects out of backgrounds for family holiday cards or isolating the pies on the menu for a mom and pop. Not a lot, but enough to help. But, of course, you can just do that on your phone now. There's no need to pay a human for it, even if they might do a better job or be more considerate toward the aesthetic of an image.
And they certainly don't talk about all the development labs that went away, or the way that you could have trained to be a studio photographer if you wanted to take good photos of your family to hang on the walls and that digital photography allowed in a parade of amateurs who can make dozens of iterations of the same bad photo until they hit on a good one by sheer volume and luck; if you want to be a good photographer everyone can do that why didn't you train for it and spend a long time taking photos on film and being okay with bad photography don't you know that digital photography drove thousands of people out of their jobs.
My dad told me that he plays with AI the other day. He hosts a movie podcast and he puts up thumbnails for the downloads. In the past, he'd just take a screengrab from the film. Now he tells the Bing AI to make him little vignettes. A cowboy running away from a rhino, a dragon arm-wrestling a teddy bear. That kind of thing. Usually based on a joke that was made on the show, or about the subject of the film and an interest of the guest.
People talk about "well AI art doesn't allow people to create things, people were already able to create things, if they wanted to create things they should learn to create things." Not everyone wants to make good art that's creative. Even fewer people want to put the effort into making bad art for something that they aren't passionate about. Some people want filler to go on the cover of their youtube video. My dad isn't going to learn to draw, and as the person who he used to ask to photoshop him as Ant-Man because he certainly couldn't pay anyone for that kind of thing, I think this is a great use case for AI art. This senior citizen isn't going to start cartooning and at two recordings a week with a one-day editing turnaround he doesn't even really have the time for something like a Fiverr commission. This is a great use of AI art, actually.
I also know an artist who is going Hog Fucking Wild creating AI art of their blorbos. They're genuinely an incredibly talented artist who happens to want to see their niche interest represented visually without having to draw it all themself. They're posting the funny and good results to a small circle of mutuals on socials with clear information about the source of the images; they aren't trying to sell any of the images, they're basically using them as inserts for custom memes. Who is harmed by this person saying "i would like to see my blorbo lasciviously eating an ice cream cone in the is this a pigeon meme"?
The way I use machine-generated art, as an artist, is to proof things. Can I get an explosion to look like this. What would a wall of dead computer monitors look like. Would a ballerina leaping over the grand canyon look cool? Sometimes I use AI art to generate copyright free objects that I can snip for a collage. A lot of the time I use it to generate ideas. I start naming random things and seeing what it shows me and I start getting inspired. I can ask CrAIon for pose reference, I can ask it to show me the interior of spaces from a specific angle.
I profoundly dislike the antipathy that tumblr has for AI art. I understand if people don't want their art used in training pools. I understand if people don't want AI trained on their art to mimic their style. You should absolutely use those tools that poison datasets if you don't want your art included in AI training. I think that's an incredibly appropriate action to take as an artist who doesn't want AI learning from your work.
However I'm pretty fucking aggressively opposed to copyright and most of the "solid" arguments against AI art come down to "the AIs viewed and learned from people's copyrighted artwork and therefore AI is theft rather than fair use" and that's a losing argument for me. In. Like. A lot of ways. Primarily because it is saying that not only is copying someone's art theft, it is saying that looking at and learning from someone's art can be defined as theft rather than fair use.
Also because it's just patently untrue.
But that doesn't really answer your question. Why reblog machine-generated art? Because I liked that piece of art.
It was made by a machine that had looked at billions of images - some copyrighted, some not, some new, some old, some interesting, many boring - and guided by a human and I liked it. It was pretty. It communicated something to me. I looked at an image a machine made - an artificial picture, a total construct, something with no intrinsic meaning - and I felt a sense of quiet and loss and nostalgia. I looked at a collection of automatically arranged pixels and tasted salt and smelled the humidity in the air.
I liked it.
I don't think that all AI art is ugly. I don't think that AI art is all soulless (i actually think that 'having soul' is a bizarre descriptor for art and that lacking soul is an equally bizarre criticism). I don't think that AI art is bad for artists. I think the problem that people have with AI art is capitalism and I don't think that's a problem that can really be laid at the feet of people curating an aesthetic AI art blog on tumblr.
Machine learning isn't the fucking problem the problem is massive corporations have been trying hard not to pay artists for as long as massive corporations have existed (isn't that a b-plot in the shape of water? the neighbor who draws ads gets pushed out of his job by product photography? did you know that as recently as ten years ago NewEgg had in-house photographers who would take pictures of the products so users wouldn't have to rely on the manufacturer photos? I want you to guess what killed that job and I'll give you a hint: it wasn't AI)
Am I putting a human out of a job because I reblogged an AI-generated "photo" of curtains waving in the pale green waters of an imaginary beach? Who would have taken this photo of a place that doesn't exist? Who would have painted this hypersurrealistic image? What meaning would it have had if they had painted it or would it have just been for the aesthetic? Would someone have paid for it or would it be like so many of the things that artists on this site have spent dozens of hours on only to get no attention or value for their work?
My worst ratio of hours to notes is an 8-page hand-drawn detailed ink comic about getting assaulted at a concert and the complicated feelings that evoked that took me weeks of daily drawing after work with something like 54 notes after 8 years; should I be offended if something generated from a prompt has more notes than me? What does that actually get the blogger? Clout? I believe someone said that popularity on tumblr gets you one thing and that is yelled at.
What do you get out of this? Are you helping artists right now? You're helping me, and I'm an artist. I've wanted to unload this opinion for a while because I'm sick of the argument that all Real Artists think AI is bullshit. I'm a Real Artist. I've been paid for Real Art. I've been commissioned as an artist.
And I find a hell of a lot of AI art a lot more interesting than I find human-generated corporate art or Thomas Kincaid (but then, I repeat myself).
There are plenty of people who don't like AI art and don't want to interact with it. I am not one of those people. I thought the gay sex cats were funny and looked good and that shitposting is the ideal use of a machine image generation: to make uncopyrightable images to laugh at.
I think that tumblr has decided to take a principled stand against something that most people making the argument don't understand. I think tumblr's loathing for AI has, generally speaking, thrown weight behind a bunch of ideas that I think are going to be incredibly harmful *to artists specifically* in the long run.
Anyway. If you hate AI art and you don't want to interact with people who interact with it, block me.
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anantaru · 4 months
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— does he like it when you're being clingy?
including wriothesley, neuvillette, kaveh, scaramouche x gn! reader
꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff & crack, lots of physical touch, established relationship, kissies, love sick genshin men
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— wriothesley
as much as wriothesley shows off his strong demeanor for the outside world to see, he cannot lie to himself when it comes to you— because the duke likes seeing you be clingy with him and search for his vehemence.
to him, there was nothing better than having your arms all padded up around him while you kiss his little worries away— so for all he cares, let the outside world call him bewitched if they must, or caught in an angelic spell for that matter. to wriothesley it didn't sound bad nor did he really give a damn about what a so called nobody would say about his life, alongside the fact that he found it quite amusing whenever they did talk about him.
the duke was exceptionally gentle with you, but sometimes he just wants to be able to see you love him in a whole differing modus other than you simply uttering out the three delicate words— in fact, wriothesley too, cares about you so much that he's trying to keep you around all the time, having you enveloped in his arms like he always daydreams of whenever you were apart from each other— hoping that you'd visit him so he could listen to whatever story you might tell him about.
now, was this a new feeling? well, yes. simply put, it was one he had never experienced before. the man had always been faithful, protective and nurturing in his life, so when love solidified the senses of his body, wriothesley was able to finally share his love with somebody.
what you did not know was that wriothesley was slightly frightened in the early stages of your relationship, to someone like the duke it wasn't particularly a breezy walk in the park to open up to another individual and realize that for the first time in his life, he was able to trust someone undoubtedly without fearing a possible mistreat.
now, he admits his love to you when he felt ready to do so, and when he does spell out the three words that bonded a relationship anew, your lips curl deeper into a passionate smile as he kisses the sides of your mouth.
your company alone was an important determination factor of his mood, and although he doesn't want to trouble you with his work, nor was he really allowed to share important and confidential details, wriothesley was certain that you would always be there to listen to him no matter what crossed his mind.
interesting how his heart has not once melted in his entire life prior to finding his soulmate. that's why in his eyes, there is no truer language than the language of love.
a cruel world that has been so cold go him surely wouldn't give him such wonderful gift?
alas, it did— wriothesley could feel it in his bones whenever you held him close to your chest late at night, his ear shell quietly pressed right above your heart. the silent vibrations place a pure tepidness of passion on his soul when he finds himself gradually softening to it, on all occasions smiling as he falls asleep in your arms.
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— neuvillette
in the early stages of your relationship, when you had first placed your lips on neuvillette's, the three letter announcement evaporates from his tongue as fluid as when sunlight enters the raindrops and emerges as rainbows from afar.
and yes, much to his surprise he didn't die because of it, who would've saw that coming? although the iudex wholeheartedly believed that he would suffer from a cardiac arrest due to the vast bursts of anxiety gradually chugging away his confidence.
"can i sit on your lap?" you smile gently, unsure whether his silence is that of enthusiasm or distaste.
neuvillette can hardly register it at first before he presses out a pathetic little yes when his excitement reaches the roof of his head and violently breaks through it, showing you those open and loving eyes that were the golden entry to his soul.
you hear a deep, breathless pant when you sit on him, witnessing how a hefty amount of redness catches up to his face until battering his ears, ultimately coaxing out a shiver from his spine.
don't misunderstand his unusual reactions— but neuvillette couldn't quite fathom that you belonged to him and sought out his body like that, it's always special when you nonchalantly rounded your hands on his face and replenished his energy anew, as if his frame was reborn in its most perfect form solely when he felt your trace.
and so, he cannot get enough of your warmth— no wonder when you remind yourself of the pure emotions that he harbored deeply for you.
instinctively, you rest your body against his chest, a soft glow rounding up your facial features, "ah, can't wait until you're done with this," you huff and point at his office desk being crowded by a bunch of papers as you press a small peck against the tip of his nose, ruffling his hair a little.
"it is rather late, you mustn't stay here," he insists, a barely distinctive curve of his lips turning all the difference in the choice of his tone.
"oh? does that mean you want to get rid of me?" how terribly skilled you were when you soaked your words in viscous sarcasm— so skillful in fact that neuvillette would always fall for it head first, or that's what you thought.
he raises a brow before curving one arm around your waist, leaning you against his chest so you wouldn't be able to move an inch, even if you tried.
"now," he playfully scolds, "you, my love, couldn't be farer from the truth."
"and here i thought you must know me by now?"
"i'm joking with you!" you panic, battering his cheek with little kisses as if he didn't know— but neuvillette sees how happy you were whenever you believed you fooled him.
he cocks an eyebrow at you, his mannerism in a questioning stance.
"apologies, aren't jokes supposed to be humorous?"
you scoff, "hmpf, now you're just mean!"
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— kaveh
from an outer perspective, one couldn't possibly figure out who was clingier towards the other person— and even with someone being a close friends of the both of you, it's beyond the bounds of possibility to crown a winner.
you or kaveh? who yearned for the attention of the other more? to answer such difficult question, you should first know of the moniker a certain scribe has given you, in fact, within your friend-group kaveh and you had instantly claimed the title of most insufferable couple.
you might wonder, was that a bad thing? oh well, not at all!
and kaveh doesn't even attempt to conceal the priceless smirk on his face whenever he heard his roommate address the both of you as that— it turned him deeply fulfilled that everyone was able to see how crazy he was about you.
your heart feels full by his comforting arms that each throb rattles across your limbs and muscles, feeling weightless at the welcoming cradle— your love being whole, one touch and a gentle kiss on the lips and you feel on a bed of roses, tucked up in velvet.
"what is it?" kaveh leans at you, raising a brow at the way you peak behind his shoulder. during closer inspection, you catch up on a sneaky little smirk that frames his lips the more you focused on what's behind him, "c'mon baby, tell me," kaveh kisses your cheek.
"i think they're calling us insufferable again." you point behind his shoulder, specifically at a table with three people— one wholly focused on the cards in his hands and remaining unbothered while the others sneakily glanced over to you every now and then, whispering incoherent mumbles into each others ears with their palms covering their lips.
and your words don't achieve anything besides making him all the more amused when he wraps his arms around your waist, it's evident, very much so but kaveh was fond of the situation— perhaps he even prided himself on it, he has the audacity to act surprised though.
he laughs, nudging the tip of his nose against your jaw, "they're probably just talking about a way to beat cyno in tcg."
he continues, "we should leave early," and states firmly, "but i think alhaitham took my keys again."
"how does this always happen?" you note tiresomely before dropping your head onto his shoulder— a little too dramatically so that the scribe picked up on it immediately, revealing a triumphant smirk.
perhaps that is why they say love is such magic, this gift from the universe that was unable to be compared, this sweet addiction that no matter what situation you were in, big or small, if it's the two of you facing it together, it was nothing.
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— scaramouche
even if scaramouche doesn't straight out admit it to you, he likes it whenever you were clingy with him— and after a good while of you two being in a relationship, he will more and more show his genuine love of it until he’s practically playing with the thought of begging for more.
in the beginning it starts by how fast his cheeks flame red and his focus dwindling as you hug him. after that particular encounter scaramouche memorizes what you did and decides that this must be a proper way to greet you as well— maybe even give you a little kiss on the cheek if he's feeling like it.
scratch that, what he lacks was the courage to go that far.
but no matter how often you would greet him this way, the action alone send him spiraling, shyly snuggling closer to you, inch by inch, although not risking it to hold eye contact and instead averting his gaze as he attempts to indulge in it nervously— stiff as concrete with both arms frozen on each side of his body when you wrapped your limbs around him.
he leans into your touch and closes his eyes— how warm, it's as if the sun itself would shine down on him and prickle on his skin, you feel so whole, like a home.
your touch, it's difficult to explain besides the fact that it carries such passion, and before scaramouche could register it— what was once scarred long ago expresses gentleness all of a sudden. 
although not everything from his past could be forgotten, yet your presence made it bearable.
what was also a crucial task to scaramouche was his recent curiosity in understanding the concept of love and how he fell for it— while he ultimately came to the conclusion that the only way to understand love is to feel it, attempt to embody it, or embrace it in its complete form. 
next time, you greet him with a blank look on your face as he applies your method on you first, slightly catching you off guard as he welcomes you home almost wordlessly, taking your hand in his cold one when he pulls you into a hug— it is a silent engage and the way he practically dragged you into him made your forehead smack his shoulder.
thankfully scaramouche doesn't have to speak in order for you to understand what he was trying to signalize here.
what's following next would be considered even sillier than him blatantly copying you, but when the two of you walk alongside each other through the hustling streets of sumeru city, you flinch a little at a strong grab on your hand ambushing you, "hey, nope— hold on, stop walking and give me your hand dammit," scaramouche scoffs as he chases after it, when with a quick motion, he traps it finally and tangles his digits around your own.
"there's no fun if i make it easy," you wink, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his jaw, "i like the faces you make when you're mad, you know? your expressions are so cute."
"don't you realize you're wasting time like that?" scaramouche clicks his tongue before squeezing your hand in his grasp, letting out an audible hmph before turning his head towards the street.
"honestly? that's fine by me," you coo softly, smothering him with the attention he craves as more of your fingers dig into the soft flesh of his palm.
"as long as you still love me, of course."
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own
5K notes · View notes
madschiavelique · 9 months
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Hi dear, how are you?, could you write an imagine onde reader mentioning offhand how much she would love a whole family. Four, maybe six children? Girls and boys split right down the middle, but the second Miguel hears this (maybe the reader is on the phone, or talking to lyla. or someone at HQ) and Miguel loses his mind
1) Miguel can't help himself and he would grab you and put you on the mattress for a very long time...... or
2) torture himself for two weeks before telling her why he was avoiding her please.
HIHIHI BREEDING BARK BARK (sorry this took so long to write anon zehfrfgh i pulled an all nighter to make this one so also forgive me if there are some mistakes in this gksffgjgbf)
summary : miguel learns you want kids, a lot of kids, so he breeds you
content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, pnv sex - unprotected (be safe kids), breeding kink, soft!dom miguel, obsessive!miguel, no use of Y/N, fem!reader word count : 3,2k
tag list : @fandom-ash @haradasaya
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Miguel was on his way to see you. He'd heard that you were back from your mission and that everything had gone well, so he'd come to get you to take you out for lunch.
He was taking advantage of the little free time he had to visit you, even though he would obviously pass this visit off as work-related in everyone's eyes. He had to always, always remain professional and keep everything under control so that everybody could do their bit.
"Six?!" asked Jess, the word choking in her throat.
Well, you were indeed back with Jess.
"Mhm, six," you affirmed as you both busied yourselves filing a report.
What were they talking about? He leaned against a wall. He knew it wasn't very polite to eavesdrop, but the word got around here. Most of society's building had cameras, and everything that was often said or done was recorded here.
He just wanted to listen to you, wondering if there were any topics of conversation that you weren't having with him and with the other spiders. Yes, he was manic, and probably a little too obsessive.
In any case, he wondered what you could have said to Jessica to make her exclaim like that.
"The more the merrier," you laughed softly.
"I hate this sentence so much," sighed Jess.
"Why so?" your voice was sincerely interrogative.
"In this context, it's really not my preferred idiom one might say," she replied as Miguel heard her tapping on a pad to enter more information.
What on earth could they be talking about? he wondered. What subject could suggest that six was far too high a number for Jess's judgement? He knew that Jess was an oragnised woman like himself, with a lot of tact and a fair amount of authority.
Was it perhaps a consecutive number of days doing an activity? Six days of marathon running might have been a bit much, but six days' holiday was never too much. He breathed in very softly, it had been years since he'd had time for such a thing. Did you want to take him on a holiday? If so, the number of days was inordinate. He would never be able to get away from his work for more than three days.
Maybe it was something else then. What was too much in Jess's mind with six?
Six empanadas perhaps? Miguel would obviously disagree. You can never have enough empanada for his taste. But Jess would probably disapprove.
Six... Six pets? It's true that having six pets might be a bit of an exaggeration, at least in Miguel's eyes of course.
Perhaps six books? No, that didn't make sense. Although Jess wasn't a huge reader, she did have a book in her hands from time to time.
So what was it? He was intrigued, that's for sure.
"You know, in my opinion, one kid is already way too much to handle," she sighed, "but six ? Nah, that's some good way of ending your life while still being alive."
But Miguel had barely heard the rest of the sentence, his mind having been caught by a single word: kid. He immediately froze, his heart skipping a beat.
Kid, like... children ? Like, actual human beings ? Small human beings ?
His eyes were wide, his mouth parted. No, he must not have heard correctly, although he dreamed that it was indeed that word that had been uttered.
"Why not? Surrounding ourselves with life is good," you said softly. "I'd love to see six little heads running around. I want three of each, three girls and three boys."
He wasn't mistaken: the discussion was really about the number of children you wanted. Six, he thought, six, six, the word echoing in his mind. He put both his hands on his hips, as if to hold on to something.
He pictured you, your rounded belly, stroking the hair of a child, your child, his child... both your children.
He swallowed, however, as another, immensely more tantalising vision took hold of his mind.
The vision of your cunt, glistening with your desire as from between its lips dripped little by little his own cum, his own seed leaking from you, your belly full of him...
It made his dick twitch for a hot second, and he couldn't remove that image, he didn't want to get rid of that image. The idea that your belly could be full of him, that he could breed you until he had no strength left was magnificent.
"What an egalitarian spirit," Jess noted wryly, "Well, it's all in order."
His thoughts were riveted on the image. He could almost hear in his own mind the sweet melody your moans would make as he came inside you again.
No, it was now impossible for him to think about anything else, he told himself that maybe he shouldn't be thinking about this. Except it's a well-known fact that if you tell someone not to think about something, they'll think about it.
He knew what breeding was, obviously, but what about you? Did you even have a clue what it was?
He tried to pull himself together, he had to either leave here or come towards you and pretend to come naturally. Would he be able to hold it together and act as if nothing had happened? Did he really have a choice in the matter after all? He breathed in, tightening his jaw as he decided to come towards you.
He walked purposefully, his usual grumpy face set surprisingly naturally as he advanced towards you.
"Ah, you're back," he sighed as if pleasantly surprised to see you both here, "how was the mission?"
"Excellent," Jess affirmed, "we've just finished the report, the anomaly has been taken care of as it should have been since we arrived."
He nodded, his serious face opening a control pad to check what she was saying and opening the file in question, pretending to read its contents. He had the impression that everywhere he looked the image came right back to him, on every tile, on every screen, everywhere in his mind.
"That's good work," he breathed.
"Damn right," nodded Jess. " Well, I'm off to join my own little demon, take care you two."
"See ya," you replied as she headed for the exit.
He wondered by what superhuman strength he managed to remain unwavering and stoic.
You moved closer to him, hugging his back and comforting yourself in the embrace.
"How was your day?" you asked, squeezing him in your arms.
Unwavering and stoic, Miguel, you have to remain unwavering and stoic.
You put your hands on his body, and with one touch his concentration was simply wiped out.
He turned to you, smiling a strange, uncertain smile as he stroked your hair, a little tense.
"You know how it is, just a lot of work," but his eyes were watching yours strangely, a flash of a vision where they were filled with desire looking back at him.
You studied him for a moment, noticing how distracted he seemed, his eyes looking at you in a strange way. You could feel a kind of desire there, a kind of longing, but you couldn't work out what it was.
"Is... everything alright?"
He shuddered, obviously his little show wasn't going to last much longer. He broke away from your embrace, he couldn't keep looking at you like that.
"Hey," you said softly, "you know you can tell me everything, right?"
Could I tell you this ? he wondered. He looked at you for a moment, another flash of you all moaning and covered in hickeys and marks on your body as you breathed his name. He looked away, closing his eyes in the hopes the flashes would stop.
"I'm afraid I cannot speak about this..."
But how he wanted to speak about this, to tell you how much he wanted to fuck you until you were full of him, until the only thing present in your mouth was his name and how much he wanted to see the sight of your round belly.
But you wouldn't listen to his silence. So you walked over to him and took his hand.
"Miguel, look at me. you asked, and he looked at you, his visions mingling with the reality where you were looking at him, worried. "Tell me."
He sighed. He couldn't run away from his ideas forever, run away from these images that he wanted to see in reality and not just in his mind. He wanted to raise his idea from the theoretical to the practical, and it was with an almost guilty breath that he admitted:
"I want to breed you."
There was a slight silence, his eyes plunged into yours, desperate to know what you were thinking. But above all he was met with confusion.
"What's breeding?" You had an idea of the term, usually used animalistically for the subject of... reproduction and maintenance of species. But just to be on the safe side with Miguel, you preferred to ask him anyway.
His lungs swelled like sails, did he really have to go through this?
"Why don't you ask Lyla what it is?" he suggested.
"Because I want to hear it from you, with your words" you assured him, your tone a mixture of strictness and curiosity.
He sighed, biting the inside of his cheek, slightly afraid of your reaction. You were practically hanging on his every word, waiting for him to explain.
"Breeding is... the act of a male and a female animal having sex, also known as mating, to reproduce..." he explained, pausing, "and procreate."
Your eyes widened slightly, and the possibility that he had overheard your previous conversation with Jess came to mind. All the same, you looked at him almost inscrutably, and he couldn't work out what you were thinking.
But now that the words had been said, he could no longer hide, no, he no longer had to hide. His thoughts were finally out, burning on his skin and lips.
He moved forward a little more, his gaze suddenly darkened by the desires he was no longer hiding.
"I want to fill you up with my cum and make sure you get pregnant."
Your lips were parted, your surprised eyes looking into his, black with desire and longing. A silence filled the air, both your hearts beating loudly in both your bodies. Miguel waited for an answer, unaware of the warm cloud that had settled in your lower belly.
He chuckled a little, an understanding smile gracing his lips as he said:
"See, your silence tells me enoug-"
"Breed me," you cut him off.
He stopped moving immediately, the statement immobilising him just like when he had understood what you and Jess were talking about.
Had his mind and his fantasies come together to play tricks on him? Or had you actually agreed with what he'd just said?
"What?" he said, his pronunciation almost slurred as he turned his attention to your next words.
"Breed me, Miguel" you repeated, determined as you swallowed in anticipation. "I want to carry you... in me."
The gleam in his eyes was almost predatory, but after all, wasn't that the very essence of breeding? The raw nature of it, the bestiality, the quenching of the oldest instinct that ever was.
You only had time to see his eyes turn red as he lunged for your lips, kissing you with his mouth wide open as your teeth almost clashed and he attacked your tongue.
The power with which he kissed you made you take a step backwards, but you weren't going anywhere, because Miguel immediately placed his hand in the small of your back to make sure he had you close to him.
He let out grunts between kisses, his hunger for your skin lengthening his canines as they brushed almost dangerously against your tongue.
Then he lifted you in one swift movement, placing you on his shoulder as he headed for the door leading to his quarters, his impatience growing faster than ever. You bit your lip, already swollen from his kisses, his hand gripping your thigh firmly as he led you to the bed.
He laid you down, following every movement of your body as he kissed you again. He stood back for a moment, watching your body.
"Do you have sentimental value for your suit?"
"What?" you asked, confused by the sudden question.
"Just answer," he asked through clenched teeth.
"I mean it's old but I can live withou-"
You hadn't even finished your sentence when he ripped off your suit with an ease that sent shivers down your spine, ripping the fabric covering your cunt, tearing your panties and throwing all the rags into the rest of the room.
"No questions about the sentimental value of my underwear?" you laugh lightly.
"I'll get you some new ones," he breathed, a carnivorous sneer inhabiting his lips, "I'll take great care in chosing them."
You swallowed as he kissed your neck, nestling in and marking your skin with thirst. He straightened to kiss your lips, and whispered against them:
"Turn over, get down on your elbows and knees".
You complied, his instructions increasing the size of the cloud of heat in your belly. You placed your folded arms flat on the sheets, your knees slightly apart.
"Lift your hips for me, nena," he commanded in a tone as soft as cotton.
You listened, arching your back as you lifted your hips, your ass gloriously up just for him to fuck. He swallowed, his hand coming to grip one of your buttocks and pulling it apart, pressing it between his fingers and gripping your skin full hand.
"Already so good and wet for me," he mused, one of his fingers passing between your folds.
Of course you were already wet, the way he had introduced the concept to you making you all fuzzy and warm in your belly. You'd never been against the idea of Miguel being a bit more violent, and to be honest you were excited by the idea of him being so from now on.
Once he'd coated himself sufficiently, he pushed one finger into you, soft moans falling from your lips filling the room. He added another one, and your lust was growing by the second. You were getting impatient too, but you couldn't help noticing that Miguel simply couldn't wait any longer.
Miguel was always very keen about taking his time, preparing you well apart from the few moments when one of you needed a quicky, but here eagerness was getting the better of him, and above all his most instinctive desires buried deep inside him had taken the reigns of all his actions.
The thought of him being in you through your core made him feel so drunk on you. These ideas had already been marinating in his mind for a while, it had only taken this conversation between you and Jess to flip the switch. And he observed in adoration, seeing you like this, underneath him with your much smaller frame, sitting up and ready to take him.
"Hands behind your back."
His orders became more and more urgent, his tone wavering with envy. It was impossible for him to formulate a whole sentence.
So you laid your face on the sheets, cheek pressed to your side as you brought your hands behind your back, joining your wrists together like you were imagining yourself handcuffed. You shivered as his hand, whose fingers had previously been inside you, reached out from between your folds and took both your wrists at the same time, locking them in this embrace. His hand was obviously big enough to hold both your wrists together and prevent you from breaking free from his grip.
He had locked you completely.
He had blocked out any possibility of you making a move other than squirming around him. Miguel would never tire of this control, this hold he had over you right now. You were his, nobody else's, and he would let eveybody know this by fucking his seed into you and get as many babies as you wanted.
That's when you felt the head of his dick coating itself with your juices, preparing to burry himself into you. You couldn't see Miguel like this, but you could hear him. Dark growls vibrated in his throat, deeper than you'd ever heard them before, and it felt intimidating.
He thrust, pushing his tip into you, and you let out a groan of relief that sank into the fabric of the sheets. You breathed softly, letting Miguel's thick, long cock sink into you. No matter how many times you had done it, taken him like that, you still couldn't get used to it.
His lower belly finally touched the skin of your ass, his dick deep inside you. And you felt him pressing against your stomach. You knew that if you brought one of your hands to your stomach, you'd feel the shape of his cock against your skin.
He was so deep in you, an almost bestial growl escaped him as he slowly began to pull back before thrusting in hard.
You let out a little cry of surprise and pleasure that echoed around the room, and he repeated the same gesture. He kept bearing down on you until he touched your slick on his lower belly and pulling away, pushing back in the next second until it'd touch his balls.
Your body was burning, unable to do anything but arch your back more and groan. Your hands were gripping the void, and the impossibility of finding a foothold in all this was making you feel out of control. But you were enjoying the sensations he was giving you, and so was he.
He listened to the symphony of your voice as he picked up the pace, the feeling of your gummy walls wrapping all tight and warm around him was absolute perfection to him.
He knew it wouldn't be long before his first cum would hit, but he needn't have worried. Miguel could go on for a long, long time, and he just hoped that you could keep up, although he had no doubt that his best girl would live up to his expectations.
He could no longer string a sentence together properly, the words he was trying to whisper as he sank deep inside you coming out as if chewed up by his long fangs.
He grunted, his rhythm and the tilt of your two bodies giving you both exceptional sensations. The knot in your stomach tightened, threatening to burst as Miguel came closer.
And the world stopped spinning for a second.
You came together, your walls closing spasmodically around him as you felt him spill into you. Because that's what you wanted, right ? That's the one thing you desired, and he was going to give it to you entirely.
He pulled out, just for the pleasure of seeing the work he had so long dreamed of seeing. And the satisfaction was superb, his white creamy cum slowly pouring out of your wet cunt, still pulsing with desire.
A dark laugh rose from his throat as he sank back into you and you let out a startled moan. He lowered himself, his lips pressing against your ear.
"I hope you thought of six names."
It would be a long, long night.
3K notes · View notes
oikasugayama · 4 months
Text
YOU CATCH HIM M@STURBAT!NG
NSFW, for adults ONLY, MDNI or I'll block you. No idea how many parts this will be. Let me know which BSD men you want to see ;)
pt. 1 Fyodor, Poe, Chuuya | pt. 2 Fukuzawa, Kunikida, Dazai | pt. 3 Ranpo, Akutagawa, Ango | pt. 4 Sigma, Mori, Tetcho | pt. 5 (finale) Atsushi, Nikolai
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Fyodor
Walking in on him touching himself is REALLY surprising because he doesn't seem the type to masturbate, in your mind. You straight up couldn't imagine him touching himself until the very second you walked into his office and saw his bottoms around his ankles, his top hiked up around his chest, and his hand furiously pumping over his pale dick.
His head is thrown back, eyes closed, mouth lazily hanging open. You've never seen so much skin on him before. He's PALE pale which makes the brightness of his mouth and tongue and the tip of his cock seem so much brighter.
"oh love, yes, yesss" he moans, and your whole body flushes red with embarrassment and arousal at the same time. You shouldn't be seeing this but you're having a hell of a time turning away from him. You need to leave the room. You need to go. You need to turn around.
"y/n," he purrs, tilting his head and opening his eyes half-way, looking so fucked out and erotic. "do you like what you see?"
You can't formulate an answer, you're standing in the doorway short circuiting, trying to make words but only noises come out
"since you're standing there I thought you might be interested," he says as slow and calm as ever. Even jerking himself off his voice doesn't hitch or raise or speed up and it's honestly really hot right now. "Care to join me?"
"i-i, um... I'm really s-sorry, f...fyodor."
He moans softly biting his lip while still staring straight at you.
"say it again," he purrs. "say my name."
"fyodor..."
"again," he moans, hand working faster.
"Fyodor."
you walk in and close the door behind you.
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Poe
You two scheduled a hang-out at his place but despite how many times you knocked on the door, he wouldn't answer...so you try the doorknob, and hey, it's unlocked! You've been to his place many times, you don't mind letting yourself in and don't suspect he'll mind either.
After you put your stuff down and take off your shoes, you register a quiet noise coming from a different room. you sneak closer and realize two things: it's crying, and it's coming from poe's bedroom
you open the door and rush in without thinking. "poe! what's wrong, why are you-- OH FUCK"
you rushed right into him kneeling at the edge of his bed, bouncing on a dildo and not crying, whimpering, moaning.
he calls your name and you can't tell if he meant to moan it but he absolutely moans it and he sounds like a wreck and he looks pathetic and fucked out, and you feel it when he says your name.
"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have been this, I'm gonna go home--" you say, turning and rushing out of his room. he calls your name after you, multiple times, moaning and moaning and moaning--
you sink down against his front door, still slightly able to hear the sounds of him moaning and whining from his room. you're so horny now, absolutely drenched through your panties/rock hard in your pants. You know you should leave, you know you shouldn't still be here, but he never told you to go, he just kept saying your name...
a few minutes later, after the noises have subsided and the apartment has gotten deadly quiet, his bedroom door creaks open and he slowly peeks his head out. he must be crawling still because he's near the floor.
"[y/n]," he sighs, "I didn't want you to find out like this."
it takes you a second to collect yourself, but you manage to ask "find what out?"
"that i... i think about you... a lot..."
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Chuuya
you're on a PM mission with chuuya and several other PM members. you've got to share a room with chuuya, but at least you have separate beds. it's fine. it's whatever. until.
until you wake up one morning--the clock on the bedside table saying it's only 6:23 a.m.--to the sound of a rhythmic slapping, some occasional huffs, a-- a moan?
you sit upright in bed quickly, your head turning toward chuuya's bed.
"are you fucking serious?"
"what" he huffs, and through the tiny bit of daylight creeping through the curtains you can see movement beneath his sheets.
"are you jerking off right now? dude we're sharing a fucking room."
"you were asleep," he says defensively. "not like you noticed yesterday."
"dude!!!"
"get over it, it's fuckin' natural," he says and his voice is getting tight and higher almost like he's biting back a moan or getting close to cumming.
"it's disrespectful when you have someone in the same room, chuuya," you say softer, subconsciously still trying to hear the sounds he's making. you're embarrassed at how intrigued you are
"i'm not stopping you," he says. "you can jerk it too for all i care."
"to what... to you jerking it?"
you can almost hear the smirk in his voice when he says "I never said anything about that, so you thought that up all on your own. is that what you're into, pet?"
2K notes · View notes
lavender-devotion · 28 days
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Hi Hi! I wasn't sure if you're open but can I request a Alastor x reader who is a charlie's older sister and she is alastor's fiance. They never told their hotel friends, basically they're in a secret relationship, until Lucifer arrived (from episode 5 dad beat dad) and announced she's engaged. but no body knew who her fiance was until alastor popped up behind her and pressed a kiss on her. Charlie's happy and Lucifer D:
As soon as I saw this request I immediately ran to make this meme, lmao I'm sorry 😭
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anywho, here we go lmao
Summary: You’re Lucifer's eldest and, much like Charlie, you’re desperate to have his support and approval---he’s your dad, of course you are. So, when he finally visits the hotel, you can't wait to tell him that you're engaged. And he's overjoyed...that is, until he finds out that you're engaged to the Radio Demon. What happens when your fiancé and your dad start feuding over you, forcing you to pick a side? Your family, or the love of your life?
Tags: Alastor x Fem!Reader, No Use of (Y/N), Reader is Lucifer's Eldest, Secret Relationship, Lucifer has a heart attack bc Alastor, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, we're just gonna pretend Alastor has been at the hotel a longer time than in canon bc Plot, Charlie is a Good Sister TW: None <3 Word Count: 2.6k Read it on Ao3 <3
When you'd first met Alastor, you had been…skeptical of him, to say the least.
To be completely honest, you’d hated him—and that was putting it lightly. You hated how condescending he was, you hated the fact that he clearly had ulterior motives, you hated that he kept everything about himself a secret, you hated his damn smile, you hated…him!
And the feeling was definitely mutual.
Alastor hated your obvious distrust of him, he hated the fact that you neither feared nor respected him, he hated the way you’d constantly tell Charlie and the others to be wary of him, he hated the way you always seemed to get in the way of his plans, he hated…you!
And no matter how many lessons Charlie had on friendship and trust—lessons that she forced the two of you to attend, I might add—or how many lectures about how the two of you needed to get along or how much she begged the two of you to stop fighting, nothing ever worked.
But…then something changed.
At some point between then and now, the two of you began to soften and learn more about each other---often against your will, and your wishes---and you found...that you had more in common than previously thought.
You both preferred radio to television, you both had a love and penchant for cooking, you both enjoyed quite a few of the same novels, and on and on it went. And those similarities brought the two of you closer together and, although neither of you ever wanted to admit it, you actually began to get along. Eventually, after enough time had passed, the two of you managed to forget why you didn't get along in the first place---all of it becoming a distant memory.
Of course, one thing led to another, and now you were lucky enough to have a pretty little ring on your left hand---not married yet, but soon to be.
Obviously none of the others knew about any of this, by both of your wishes. You were both private people and, knowing everyone else, they would ask questions and the two of you would end up having to spill your entire life's stories to finally get them to leave it be---and even that wasn't guaranteed!
So, to avoid the drama of it all, you just...kept things quiet. Private.
It wasn't particularly hard---Alastor wasn't much of a PDA person, especially in public; neither of you were particularly big fans of pet names; your dates were always fairly simple; and the two of you had your own jobs within the hotel to attend to, so half the time you weren't even in each other's presence.
It was...nice. Having someone to lean on, being able to see another side of Alastor---and having him all to yourself. No one else had him like you did, and you preferred it that way. Of course, though, all good things had to come to an end.
Your and Charlie's father, Lucifer, was coming to the hotel for the first time and---knowing him---it'd be the last, so now was possibly your only chance to tell him about your engagement in person.
Part of you was nervous, considering that you hadn't even told him---or anyone else---you were dating someone and now you were just going to spring an engagement on all of them, but another part of you was relieved and excited. Obviously, you would miss the privacy, but who knew? Maybe everyone's constant curiosity wouldn't bother you as much as you thought, and you might actually end up enjoying a more public relationship.
One where you could kiss him whenever you pleased, instead of being forced to wait until the two of you were alone; one where you could wish him goodbye with an "I love you," instead of snarky "don't die" on the way out; one where you could simply blow off any potential suitors with an "I'm married," instead of having to convince them that you really weren't interested in dating. Maybe all of that would be nice too.
"Nervous?" Alastor asked, the static overlay of his voice drawing you out of your thoughts. You turned away from the mirror you were looking into, instead turning your attention to your beloved---his ever-present smile softening as he looked at you.
"A little, I just..." you sighed, "I just want this to go well, but---knowing my dad---he's going to freak out and it'll be a whole thing."
He chuckled and stepped forward until he was close enough to brush a stray piece of hair out of your face, "not to worry, my dear, I'm sure everything will go just fine."
"But-"
"And if it doesn't," he continued, "I'll be by your side to help you fix it all. You won't be alone."
You smiled and let him draw you into a chaste kiss, some of your tension dissipating in his presence. Somehow he always knew how to make you feel better.
"What would I ever do without you?" You asked, gently cupping his face.
He tilted his head slightly to press another kiss to your palm, "you'll never have to find out."
Suddenly the unmistakable sound of Charlie's voice made its way up to your shared room, introducing everything and everyone in the hotel to---who you assumed to be---your father. So there was no more preparing yourself for it, now you just had to do. Besides, maybe Alastor was right, maybe he'd take the announcement better than you thought.
There was only one way to find out.
----------
"WHAT??? HIM???"
He did not, in fact, take it better than you thought.
You tried to wait for the perfect time to break the news, but---of course---your dad had immediately spotted the ring on your finger- (a detail that, somehow, everyone else had missed) -and pressed you for more information, his actual reason for visiting long forgotten. By both him and everyone else, apparently.
Getting a meeting with Heaven was suddenly playing second fiddle to everyone's curiosity about who you'd been dating behind their backs---who you were now engaged to. So, after a lot of pressing and pressing, you'd finally relented and admitted that it was Alastor. Which had led to...all of this.
Charlie was vibrating off the walls, everyone else was in various states of shock, and your dad...looked like he was in the middle of a mental breakdown.
"You can't- I mean-" He laughed, more than a little hysterical, "you're not actually engaged to him, are you?"
Before you could answer, Alastor cut in---a sharp edge coloring his tone.
"Why wouldn't she be?"
Your father's attention switched from you to Alastor, practically seething as he looked at him. You couldn't see Alastor's face from your place beside him, but you could tell that the feeling was mutual by the crackling electricity that crawled across your skin.
"Have you ever fucking met you?" Your father asked incredulously.
"Yes, and I'm very lucky to have her," Alastor responded, punctuating his statement with a gentle kiss on your cheek---a kiss obviously done just to piss your father off, since you knew Alastor wasn't exactly fond of public affection.
The tension was thick in the air as the two just stood there, glaring at each other.
Then finally, your father laughed.
"Alright then..."
Jazzy, upbeat, music suddenly came out of nowhere, and—before you had any time to process what was happening—you were drawn into your father’s song and dance number, the world around you shifting to follow his words. 
“Looks like you could use some help, from the big boss of Hell himself! Obviously, since I don’t know how you could’ve felt that this–”
One voice, “Bastard!”
Two, “Jackass!”
Three, “Arrogant piece of shit!”
Back to your father, “–would ever make a suitable husband! Especially for you, did you forget?” 
He twirled you around until you were in an elegant dress and crown, falling backwards onto a throne.
“You’re a princess of Hell, so better yet! Rather than an old outdated crook—who’s probably just using you for your station, at least from the looks—why not let your dad give you pick of the lot?” He snapped his fingers, new people appearing with every beat, “men, women, or those in between; outgoing royalty or someone serene, anything but this walking tomato lookin’ prick—you could have anyone, so just take your pick!” 
A streak of shadow suddenly shoved your father to the side, Alastor appearing in his place with a charming grin—his shadow twirling around you like it was trying to hold you. 
“My dear it’s true that you’re one of a kind—everything anyone could ask for, a very rare find,” he knelt before you and kissed your hand, “I’m a very lucky sinner to call you my own, to stand by your side as you sit on your throne.” 
He then moved to sit on the arm of your throne, pulling you into his side, “however I have to agree that someone around here is a crook, but it’s certainly not me, so let’s take a look!”
The first person he picked out of the crowd was Charlie, his shadow minions bringing her forward dressed in her own royal attire, “your darling sister, who’s been by your side—supporting you through your troubles, high or low tide!” 
Next came the other residents, dressed in their own fancy clothing, although less detailed than yours and your sister’s, “your close hotel friends, do you dare suspect them? Even though they’ve proven they’d follow you to the end?” 
Finally he knelt in front of you again, dressed in his own royal attire and placing a golden ring on your left ring finger, “or do you truly think it could be me, your doting husband-to-be? Could I be the traitor despite the love, trust, and devotion I’ve given to you, or everything I’ve done to prove that my affection is true?” 
“Of course not! You know that, so why don’t you see?” Suddenly your father was shoved forward like a criminal, the shadows dressing him in peasant style clothing, “the only traitor around here is this snake, does he take you for Eve?”
“Excuse me?” Your father asked incredulously, pushing back the shadows and reappearing in his usual clothing.
“Trying to lead you to darkness with his tricks and lies, wanting you to be miserable and lonely instead of by my side.” 
“Hold on now–”  “All this unsupportive jargon, telling you how you should live your life,” Alastor practically snarled, looking your father dead in the eye, “no wonder that this bastard was left by his wife.”
Your head was left spinning as things quickly switched between your father playing a golden fiddle, to your fiance interrupting him on a vintage piano—the two practically seething at each other before turning their attention back to you.
First Alastor, “my dear, why don’t you pick your own path, instead of listening to this stick in the mud?”
Then your father, “why choose a shitty partner over your own blood?”
And that is how it went. 
“And pick a deadbeat father, nothing more than a dud? Wouldn’t you rather find happiness with the family you choose?” 
Over.
“Yeah, sure, pick a bunch of losers–” 
And over.
“Can you butt out of my song?” 
And over.
“Your song? I started this!”
Until finally– “I’m singing it, I’ll finish it!” 
You had had enough. 
“Oh you tacky piece of sh–” 
"JUST STOP!" You shouted, bringing their argument to a screeching halt and drawing a deadly silence into the room, "for fuck's sake---how can the two of you not see your own hypocrisy?! Even when it's sitting right in front of you!"
The two of them stared at you, wide eyed, but you kept going before they could respond.
"You're arguing over what's best for me, while not even fucking asking me what I want! This isn't even about me, this is about the two of you hating each other," you took a breath, desperately blinking back tears, "well you know what? BOTH of you are hurting me! BOTH of you are ignoring my wishes! BOTH of you are treating me like shit! And I don't want to fucking be around EITHER OF YOU!"
And without another word you turned on your heel and left the hotel.
----------
The moment you heard footsteps coming near you, you flipped around and snarled---prepared to snap at your father or Alastor, whichever one decided to come kiss your ass to one-up the other. But, instead, you only found Charlie standing behind you, a concerned look on her face.
You immediately turned away from her and wiped your eyes, not wanting your little sister to see you like this, but she didn’t seem to mind—just sitting beside you and resting her head on your shoulder as you sniffled.
After a moment, you broke the silence.
“I just…I don’t understand,” you said, voice shaking, “they’ve known each other for five fucking minutes and already hate each other. Why can’t they just get along for me? Do I seriously matter that little to them?”
Charlie was quiet for a moment, mind churning.
“I don’t necessarily think that’s it,” her voice was quiet as she spoke, as if she was thinking through each word, “I think that, for the first time ever, both of them are dealing with the fact that they might not be the most important man in your life and…I guess this is just their way of reacting to that.”
You turned to her, eyebrows raising, and she continued to explain.
“Family is important to you, Alastor knows that, but he hasn’t had to…complete, I guess, with anyone for his place by your side before—so, when dad showed up and openly disapproved of him, I think he just got scared that you’d leave him because of what dad thinks,” she took a breath, still thinking through her words, “dad, on the other hand, has always been the one who you’d run to for everything—if you were scared, sad, happy, or needed help, he was the one you’d go to. Now you have Alastor and that’s who you go to for everything, so I think dad just got scared that you wouldn’t need him anymore now that you’re getting married.”
“Congratulations, by the way,” she added wryly, squeezing your arm with a smile.
You gave her a small smile back, “how’d you ever get to be so smart?”
“I learned from the best.”
You sighed, “I just wish they’d get over themselves, I can—in fact—have more than one important man in my life, there’s not a fucking limit.”
“Yeah well…men can be stupid, I guess.”
You snorted and pulled her close, gently ruffling her hair, “you’ve got that right…between you and me, though, I like you better than both of them.”
Charlie giggled and hugged you, the two of you inseparable, just like when you were kids. You took a little longer to just breathe and enjoy the sweet moment with your sister, before finally releasing her.
She then got up and dusted off her suit, bright smile now firmly back in place, “now, let’s head back! I’m pretty sure Vaggie’s already got them working on their apologies, and I already have so many ideas for a new lesson plan on: selflessness and communication!”
You shook your head, but didn’t manage to quite hide your smile. Whatever happened, at least you would always have Charlie by your side…and Alastor and your father, if the two could manage not to kill each other.
“Those apologies better not be in fucking song format.”
“…I’ll text Angel.”
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beeing1alive · 14 days
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Tokyo Revengers Boys, if you kiss them without warning
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Note: You are not yet in a relationship in this scenario, but about to be. I hope you like it
Mikey didn't think about it at all and just kissed you back a few seconds later. You couldn't tell by looking at him, but he was naturally uncomfortable. He doesn't regret it though, he loves your soft lips and wants to kiss them again, but he knows that he'll probably have to make the first move.
Darken just looked at you for a few seconds and realised what you'd just done. As always, he tried to play it cool, like he didn't really care, but I can tell you, later that night, he thought about it and he couldn't stop smiling and he hoped that he'd get to kiss you again someday.
Mitsuya blushed, but pulled you close. Honestly, he likes you either way, so why wouldn't he do that, it's one of the best chances he'll ever have. He would have acted on intuition and of course he let you go as soon as he realised what he'd done and apologised. Still, his thoughts kept going back to it, he doesn't know why himself.
Chifuyu definitely enjoyed it and even closed his eyes to savour the moment even more. But unfortunately, this magical moment had gone as quickly as it had come. When your soft lips moved away from his again, he woke up from his own little bubble and got a little scared. Of course, he apologised to you and disappeared as quickly as he could.
Baji took you by the shoulders after the kiss as gently as he could at that moment and asked you what you were thinking. You might think at that moment that he didn't like it but, let me tell you, he loved it. Since that moment, he hasn't been able to think straight or sleep. He wants you to do it again. Again and again and again, but of course he won't tell you that.
Takemichi has stopped breathing, but still puts an arm around you. With his arm gently wrapped around your waist and your face so close to yours, your lips on his. He doesn't quite know why, but he thanked you for the kiss and maybe cried a little, not crying, but maybe a single, happy tear running down his cheek.
Angry returned the kiss. Simply without thinking about it and, in fact, at that moment without any charm. Unfortunately, the embarrassment only came afterwards and, much to his regret, much more strongly than usual. He ran away, to be honest, but he couldn't do anything but think about it all day until he finally lay in his bed and replayed the whole moment in front of his eyes, like a film, over and over again and he also wondered what would have happened if he had stayed there.
Smiley pulled you closer to him and asked you what you thought you were doing. Paired with that mischievous grin, he looked very amused, but don't worry, you'll just have to remain constant, withstand his gaze and, if you're feeling particularly brave, kiss him again. I promise you, his confident facade fell away and he did the anoint like his brother, he ran off to think about it, which he actually did. He couldn't think about anything else, but that's another problem.
Hakkai's brain has stopped working. He can't remember almost anything, just one thing. Your soft, gentle lips on his and how much he longs to kiss you again. He probably left without a word, didn't talk to anyone else that day either, and this memory, this realisation, only came into his head in the evening and he thought about it for the rest of the night and his cheeks glowed red, like fire, the whole time.
Kazutora asked you directly what you had done. He didn't understand why this, objectively speaking, so simple touch felt so good. He's just so starved for touch and will also ask you if you can do it again. Please, just give him another kiss, then he'll be satisfied for a while and think about it for a while until it occurs to him that he might like you. It hits him like a wave of emotions, he wants you to touch him more often, but he doesn't know whether and how to tell you.
Koko was confused but happy and asked you what the kiss was for. For a few seconds he was afraid that you might have just kissed him because you wanted money from him, but this thought quickly disappeared when you told him with that sweet blush on your face that you just wanted to kiss him and hadn't thought about it. He also gave you a kiss and then just carried on with what he was doing before, leaving you confused. But honestly, he didn't sleep that night because he had to think about your soft lips.
Inupi returned the kiss and he loved it, of course he didn't show it outwardly, his usual expression adorned his face, but the slight, sweet blush on his face gave him away. He actually thought about it for a long time and came to the conclusion that he liked you. I mean, what else could be the reason that he wants to kiss you again and again and that he really longs for it?
Hanma teased you about it, but of course he understood that it meant a lot, he's not as stupid as he seems. He laughed about it and made fun of it, but he caught himself thinking about it over and over and he wanted to feel it again. No kidding, he wants to be kissed by you again, but a little more intimate, more personal. As you can guess, he'll never admit it, maybe someday when you're in a committed relationship.
Attention: The characters and the GIF do not belong to me. All credits go to the original owners. If you want anything to be changed or removed please contact me.
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mingigoo · 2 months
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look after you || k.hj (m.)
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🩺 pairing ⇢ nurse! (fem) reader x struggling musician! Hongjoong
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🩺 synopsis ⇢ after a long night at work with little to no sleep, you nearly doze off on your way home, hitting a tattooed, spikey-haired guy in the middle of the road. Panicking, you run out to help him and go with him to the hospital, only to lie and say he was your husband so you could go back with him. Well, when he woke up, he didn't exactly take it the way you thought he would...
🩺 genre/au ⇢ enemies to lovers (kind of), some angst, smut, fluff, hospital au
🩺 warnings/tags ⇢ 18+ MINORS DNI, injury, car accident, hospital scenes, unprotected sex, undefined relationship, mention of possible suicide attempt, Hongjoong is a scruffy underground musician, trauma with touch, tattoo!joong, grumpy sunshine, cum shot, biting, teasing
🩺 word count ⇢ 10.3k
🩺 taglist ⇢ @atinywhore @jjhmk @yukine-smx @roe-sinning @meowmeowminnie @yeritheloml @y00nzin0 @yesv01 @halesandy @shegotboreddsoo @kangyeosangelic @gayliljoong @sanshineeeeee @kodzukein @baguette-atiny @seokwoosmole @nyeatinyjunkie @juliettechokilo @pockyddalgi @justaqueerbufoin @hwaightme @likexaxdaydream @ssaboala @gtr-skyline-lover @miriamxsworld @daegale @knucklesdeepmingi @naiify @yeoyeoland @arya9111 @mdibby @8tinytings @angelicyeo @wooyoungjpg @lonewolfjinji @asjkdk @charreddonuts @mangishii @yeoyeoland @pink-hwaberry @wooyoluvrr @maru-matt @pearltinyy @loveuwoo @m3chigo @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @interweab @skz1-4-3 (if I missed you please lmk!! bold = can’t tag)
masterlist
A/N ⇢ this story is purely fictional! I am not nurse, and do not have unlimited knowledge on this topic. However, I am a healthcare worker, so I know a little, but not a lot. I am sorry for any information this is incorrect. This is meant for entertainment purposes only. This is not meant to take place in reality.
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They never prepare you enough for the things you might see within the hospital walls. 
Nothing is ever enough within those few years of education, the desperate attempt to create life savers. No one tells you how much it hurts to see a child suffer until death, a mother, a daughter.
You just wanted to be something. Do something. Be like the girl you dreamed of being as a child—a child who put bandaids on her mother, all over, decorating her like a painting. Sometimes, your mother would act like she was hurt, just for you to play make-belief, “stitching” up her “wounds.”
And here you were, in the hospital locker room, tears falling silently down your cheeks as you unclipped your hair, letting it fall just like the tears. You sniffed, hiding your face in the locker, although no one was around to see. It was embarrassing enough to yourself—you couldn't believe you were crying. You just…couldn't stop.
The day was rough—just too much. Too much death, too much sadness. This wasn't what you dreamed of. You never thought about how hard it would be to put a smile on your face to a patient, right after witnessing someone leave the world. To act, really. You should've taken up that career instead. You were pretty damn good at doing it—well, until you landed behind the curtain.
You haven't slept in ages. It's been constant insomnia on top of twelve-hour shifts, sometimes even longer, and once you are able to lay down, the only thing you hear is the sound of a patient crashing, the cries of family members. It had you questioning your profession. Your devotion. Your childhood.
As you made your drive home, for some reason, the lines on the road soothed you. Your eyes began to beg for sleep, rolling back ever so slightly as you continued. The gentle patter of rain graced the windshield, the red hue of the stoplight in front of you nearing. 
You stopped at the light—pausing to look at the city around you. The city was bright, even at the dark hour of midnight. People were walking, carrying on,  bar lights bright, apartments lit up in an array of colors. You took in a breath and closed your eyes.
And you closed them a little too long when a car horn sounded behind you.
You jumped, feeling apologetic for holding up the line, and continued forward. People passed you with impatience, but you didn't care. You kept going, crawling, really, till you felt sleep creep up once again, shutting your eyes. You drifted off, only for a short moment, and suddenly you awoke with haste—but not quick enough. In your headlights stood a man, walking across the street, and you didn't have enough time to move. You slowed as best you could, tires screeching, praying to anything, anyone, that this was your imagination.
As your car came to a screeching halt, you hit the man with a thump, causing him to crumble to the ground. You gasped, now wide awake, a scream caught in your throat.
You swallowed hard, hands shaking as you pulled over as best as you could and put your vehicle in park, looking around for any sign of someone. 
No one, absolutely no one, but you and this man you just hit. Just a few blocks back, the city was bustling, bars were hopping, but now, it was like a wasteland. You stepped out of your car, gasping for air, and sprinted through the rain to get to the man.
He was lying still, his head bleeding, his back on the asphalt. His black clothing hid the damage he received from the hit, hiding his body, his black hair covering his face. The only thing you saw was the black ink of a tattoo on his hand as it grasped the road.
“Oh my god,” you breathed, kneeling down to him. You assessed him as best as you could, fighting an anxiety attack. “I am so sorry, oh my god.”
He groaned in response, his arm visibly broken. You hurriedly dialed the emergency line, panting, nearly in tears. You didn't even think about the consequences of this action—you were only worried about the man, the stranger, in front of you. 
After nearly crying once more on the phone, the paramedics explained that they would arrive quickly. You hung up and looked over the stranger once more. “Are you alive?” you asked like a dumb ass, nearly face-palming. You were a nurse, goddammit. Act like one. 
You leaned over him, as gently as possible, putting a finger under his nose, and you felt a soft breath hit it. You checked for an airway obstruction, but nothing. He was breathing fine. In pain, but breathing.
The man tried to move, to roll over sharply, but you quickly bellowed, “Wait, please, you could have a spinal injury,” you pleaded, and surprisingly he stopped. “Don't move.” You caught a glimpse of his face. A large cut near his eyebrow painted his skin crimson, but his eyes were beautiful. His lip was cut, too, and you felt immense pain just looking at him. God, what if he was homeless? He looked it. What if he didn't have insurance? Oh god—
You saw how much blood was coming from his head as he looked up at you. His eyes were hazy, like he wasn't really seeing. You hurriedly looked around for anything to stop his bleeding, and when you found nothing, you took your coat off, then your scrub top, and you quickly put your coat back on. You held your shirt to his head as gently as possible, applying pressure, praying that the paramedics would come soon—
Your anxious thoughts were interrupted by sirens. You let out a sigh of relief.
When the ambulance pulled up, two men came to you with a stretcher. You were barely alert enough to hear them say anything. You mumbled a few things, your hands shaking as they set down the gurney. You mumbled to have them put on a neck brace, chest tightening at how the man cried in pain. You let out an ugly cry with him, but no tears fell. They gently rested him on the stretcher, his head steady, but his arm—
“Are you crazy!” you hissed, standing up quickly. “His arm….he needs his arm stabilized!”
“I’m sorry, mam,” the one man condescendingly said, giving you a dull look. “We know how to do our job. We don't need your input.”
You huffed. Mam? Mam? That was insulting. “I’m a nurse, I also know what I’m talking about.”
They ignored you like everyone seemed to ignore you. They began to move away, but a small object caught their eye that lay right where the man was. You picked it up, finding it to be an empty wallet—you’d give it back later.
They rolled him towards the ambulance, and you followed, forgetting about your car, and everything in it, leaving the scene behind. The paramedics didn't seem to care that you went with them, so you sat in the vehicle, watching them treat the guy you hit. You wanted to throw up as they treated him, as you sat still, like a worthless piece of paper. A crumbled-up piece of paper. Yeah. Crumbled. 
When you arrived at the hospital—a hospital that wasn't yours, you walked beside the homeless man, nearly reaching for his hand. However, your race with him was put to a stop as the emergency room staff stopped you as he headed into the wing.
“I’m sorry, only family members are allowed inside,” the woman softly muttered, her eyes genuine. 
She reminded you of yourself.
What….what if this man was really homeless? What if he had no help, no insurance, no family? You had to do something. You’d feel horrible if you didn't do anything.
“I’m—I’m his wife!” you blurted out, louder than you intended. 
The young lady gave you a heartfelt look and nodded towards the door. “Go ahead. There’s a waiting room inside. What’s your name? I’ll let them know you’re the guardian.”
You told her your name, sparing no second longer than needed, and you ran into the emergency room, sitting down in a hurry.
It was now a waiting game.
For what seemed like forever, a doctor came out into the waiting room, looking right at you. 
“Miss y/n?” He asked.
“Yes?”
He cleared his throat. “….You are Kim Hongjoong’s guardian?”
You paused, almost forgetting your whole spiel at the entrance. You remembered the name from his ID in his wallet, and nodded sharply, standing up quickly. “Is he all right?”
“He sustained many injuries, but nothing too major. His arm is broken in three places, and that will limit his mobility quite a lot. We set his arm, but he might possibly need surgery.”
You nodded, relief washing over you. Good, minor injuries. Phew. 
The doctor pondered for a long while as he stared at you. “The paramedics stated that you were the one to hit him with the car.”
You sighed. “Yeah, he came out of nowhere—”
“Why was he walking alone so late at night?”
You looked around the waiting room, seeing only one other soul in the corner seat, sleeping. You wondered about what to say, as your little white lie was becoming a web. 
“I uh….he works late?”
“He was intoxicated at the time of the accident—”
“He works at a bar?” you tried not to sound like you were questioning that statement.
The doctor deadpanned and then sighed. “Listen, I’m sure there's stuff that’s none of my business. So I’m going to choose to ignore this,” he nodded toward the emergency wing. “But you’re welcome to go see him. He’s awake now.”
You wondered for a second whether you should go back there. If he was going to rip your head off for lying, for hitting him with your damn car.
You nodded, telling yourself to grow some damn balls. “Okay, I’ll see him.”
The doctor led you to a room at the very end of the hall, the lights dim. There, in front of you, was the man you hit. He was all bandaged up, a large one spanning around his forehead, covering some of the spikey black hair. His arm was wrapped in a cast and held up for circulation, and his eyes were wide open. Right on you.
“Your wife is here,” the doctor spoke nonchalantly as he entered with you. However, you were stationary at the door. 
“Wife?” he scoffed, coughing a bit. He tried to sit up, but you put on your act, walking up to his bedside. 
“Don't move,” you spoke sweetly, eyes pleading. The attractive man just furrowed a brow, his lips curling down in a grimace.
“We’re gonna keep you here for observation tonight, and see how you are doing in the morning to keep an eye on that arm of yours.” The doctor quickly did what he needed to do and left, leaving you alone with….your husband?
The pretty homeless guy spared no second in the questioning. “Who the fuck are you?”
Your eyes widened, looking down at him. He gazed up at you, his eyelashes fluttering as he blinked. A tattoo peaked out of his hospital gown, where it met the skin of his neck. 
“Listen,” you sat down roughly on the seat next to the bed. He watched you emotionlessly. “I’m sorry—I didn't see you when you walked across the road. I take full responsibility,” you breathed, getting nervous under his gaze. 
You were expecting him to scream at you. Well, at least to freak out in some way. It was more alarming that he sat still, completely still, his mouth set in a line.
You blinked.
“I don't care, it’s fine,” he sighed. He showed no emotion, nothing. Not even a twinkle of anger. It was the look in his eye that told you that maybe, just maybe, he ran in front of your car on purpose.
Your eyes widened at the man in front of you—at hongjoong in front of you. He looked distraught tired, brown eyes never leaving your face as you gazed at him. He raised his eyebrows slightly, tilting his head.
“You can leave now,” he huffed, eyes dropping to your open mouth before darting up back to your eyes. “I’m not sure why you're even here in the first place.”
It was your turn to scoff. You crossed your legs in irritation at his lack of care. “Well, maybe because I hit you with my damn car? Maybe I’m worried, maybe I feel horrible, maybe I wanted to see if you were going to be okay.”
Hongjoong just blankly stared. He didn't show any signs of pain, of anger, of anything, really. 
“You don't have to worry,” he spoke eventually, turning away from your gaze to look forward. You watched the tattoo dance against his neck as he moved. “I’m fine. This is all fine.”
You didn't know what to say, how to feel. Your head was spinning, all the tiredness washed away. It pained you to see him so empty, so barren, even though he was a stranger. “I feel like I need to do something for you.”
He bit the bottom of his busted lip, as if forgetting. He made a face, the only expression he’s shone. “No need.”
“But I need to,” you leaned forward, closer to him. He turned to you, eyes void. “I’ll pay for your hospital bill, maybe treat you for a dinner, I don't know—”
“Don't,” he hissed. His eyes grew dark, the fire in them rising. You nearly shrunk back in response to his sudden change of attitude. “Listen, just forget about this, about me, all of it. I don't need your money, or your time, or—” he paused, his anger faltering as he looked at you. “Just…just carry on with your life. I’ll only affect it if I stay in it.”
You frowned, wondering what he meant by that. It didn't matter, though. Your guilt was all-consuming—and the fact that he most likely ended up in front of the car on purpose really was overbearing.
After a second of just…staring at one another, you sighed. “One meal.”
He didn't make a face. Didn't change his plain, empty expression. You looked at his starless eyes, his pale skin. You had the need to brighten him up, to heal him. That was your job, after all.
He opened his mouth to speak, but a nurse came in before he could say a word. You immediately straightened, putting on a smile, hoping he would keep up the act even though he had no reason to. You didn't want to be kicked out—not right now. 
“How are we feeling, Hongjoong?” the young nurse asked, a smile on her bright face. 
“Fine, I guess.” His response was toneless. The nurse still bubbled around, checking his vitals. You watched as he stiffened as the woman touched him. 
She looked at you, arching a brow. “Oh? Are you the wife?” she let out a hum of appreciation, then turned her gaze to Hongjoong. “You’re lucky with this one. They said she freaked out when they didn't stabilize your arm and when they wouldn't let her inside the emergency wing! She must really love you to nearly fight someone to get back here.”
Hongjoong, for the little time you knew him, showed more emotion on his face than ever after hearing that. After hearing that someone—you, a stranger nonetheless—was distraught at his expense. His lips flattened in a line, his gaze faltering.
You grabbed his good hand, although bruises were painted across his knuckles. Old, yellowing bruises. You furrowed your brows, subconsciously rubbing a thumb softly over the colored skin. Hongjoong stiffened, eyes widening, at either your caring touch or the pain it could have been causing. Or both.
You felt your stomach tighten as you met eyes with him. The air was stuffy, his eyes were….practically begging for a reason for your attention, as if he’d never had it before.
“I’m lucky to have him,” you sighed, acting but feeling an intense pull to him. Just touching him, although you didn't even know him, felt like a second nature. 
Maybe it was the regret, the disparity, of hitting him, of being the reason his life was almost nonexistent. Maybe this feeling was because of the responsibility you felt for doing this to him. It didn't matter if it was true; this tension you were feeling with the stranger was more powerful than what you felt with your ex, the one before that, and the one before.
His face was devout of color besides the bruises that scattered his skin. He looked drained, tired, alone. The nurse just smiled at you two, noticing your bloody scrubs and messy exterior. “You’re a nurse, too?”
You just nodded, lost in the feeling that strummed through your body.
Hongjoong’s hand twitched under your hold, his eyes still wide. Still on you.
“Well, Hongjoong,” the friendly nurse smiled. “Don't let her go, she’s a keeper.”
He tore his gaze from you to look at your hand on his. He swallowed hard, blinking. “Ah, yeah.”
Soon after the nurse left, your hand still rested on his. He sat silently, staring forward at the whiteboard with his name on it.
“I….” you struggled with your words, realizing you were still caressing his hand. “I’m sorry,” you said as you pulled your hand away. His head shot towards you.
After a few moments of silence, he said, “It’s okay.” His tone was soft, defeated. 
You wiped your hands on your thighs, sweating buckets. “I, uh, I should go.”
He watched you stand up, but your back was turned, unable to see the wishful glance he offered you. 
You stopped in the door frame, turning around to meet his eyes once more. 
“It was nice to meet you, Hongjoong,” you smiled, watching the glimmer in his eye trying to sparkle. “I wish you well.”
Before you were able to leave the room, he called for you.
“Wait,” he breathed, voice raspy.
You froze.
He took a breath in, exhaling his words. “What’s your name?” 
You turned around. “Y/n,” you spoke softly, your chest aching at the little half-smile peeking through his bruised lips.
“y/n,” he repeated, blinking slowly. He didn't say anything else. You didn't either. You smiled at him once more before turning on your heel and walking out of the room, despite the tear in your heart telling you to stay.
And on your way out, you paid his hospital bill in full, not a single regret in your mind about it.
After a few days, you continued your days like normal.
Well, as normal as they could be. Your mind wandered to the spikey haired guy at every sparing second, thinking of how his eyes pleaded something unreadable, how his hand twitched underneath yours.
You were at the hospital, reaching the end of your workday in the emergency room. After running in with a few scruffy-looking guys, they reminded you of a certain someone, and you just wanted to tear at your hair. You were certain your odd feelings were due to the fact that you hit him with your car, and nothing else. This will pass. 
When the quietness of the night was about to still, a man ran into the emergency room door.
“My friend is hurt,” The man huffed in desperation. You turned to the commotion, seeing a thin, black-haired man holding up another—his friend. But that friend and his familiar spikey hair jolted something inside of you.
You jumped out of your seat behind the nurses’ station and ran to the men, meeting eyes with the taller one. He was just as beautiful as hongjoong was, but his eyes were frantic.
“Sir, what happened?” you questioned, reaching out to the man who was just who you thought. Hongjoong’s head rolled back, his eyes squinted in pain, his teeth barred. You carefully steadied him. “What’s hurting you?”
At your voice, Hongjoong opened his eyes wide, looking straight at you. “Y/n?” he grunted out, his breaths strained. He shut his eyes again, and you almost couldn't take the look he had on his face.
“His arm,” the other guy said to you as you called for help,  struggling to hold Hongjoong up. “He got into a fight at the bar, some guy decided to mess with his broken arm and, well…..”
You felt a sense of rage fill your body. You wanted to ask Hongjoong why the hell he was at the bar only days after getting hit by a damn car, let alone getting into a fight.
A few other nurses gathered around, all helping to walk him over to a bed. The wing was empty at this time of night—only a few people around. Once again, Hongjoong looked extremely uncomfortable as the nurses touched him.
You held him gently as you set him down on the bed, feeling his fingers curl around your arm.
He held on to you with his good arm—the hand you held only days before. The other nurses fluttered around, setting things up, but Hongjoong just stared up at you.
“Hi,” is all he said, his fingertips etching into your skin.
Your chest tightened, forcing yourself to smile. “We must be fated or something,” you joked, hoping to brighten him up. “That or you just frequent hospitals often.”
He blinked up at you, his eyebrows knitted in pain. “Maybe I just wanted to see you again.” He coughed as he joked.
Your heart skipped a beat, the other nurses and the man that came with him side-eyeing you.
“If you wanted to see me again, there are better ways than this,” you huffed, looking around. “We have to get an X-ray, alright? We’ll give you something to ease your pain meanwhile.”
The air between you two was undeniable. He nodded, emotion sparkling in his eyes, unlike the days before. You wondered if you were the reason for it.
It was probably just the pain.
The other nurses wheeled him to the radiology room, leaving you alone with the man who brought him there.
“You’re the girl that hit him, aren't you?” His voice was soft, gentle. It held no anger.
You turned to him, seeing the caring exterior he showed. “I….yes.”
He tilted his head at you, blinking, as if figuring you out in a single glance. “He’s been looking all over for you. You…paid his bill. He doesn't like handouts.”
Your eyes widened. “Oh? I didn't think he ever wanted to see me again. You know, I hit him with my car—that isn't something to take lightly—”
“You paid his bill,” the man repeated, crossing his arms. “He feels indebted to you. Please just make sure he knows not to feel that way.” The man sighed, looking into your eyes. “Despite how he looks, he ruminates over things. He’s sensitive. He’s a mess right now.”
You sighed, too. “I…I paid his bill because I did this to him—”
“No,” he interrupted, eyes serious. “You didn't.”
You knitted your brows. “....What do you mean?”
The man gave you a deadpan stare, as if not wanting to spell it out. He let out a breath he seemed to be holding. “He….he jumped in front of your car on purpose, y/n,” he bit his bottom lip. “So no, you really didn't do it to him. He’s…he’s just been a mess lately—and now that you acted sweet, played a wife, held his hand or whatever, he’s even more of a mess.”
Before you could ask what he meant by that, Hongjoong was back, alert and upright, but the pain still rested on his face. His gaze met yours, and you felt your stomach swirl in a mess of emotions.
You couldn't look him in the eye as you took care of him.
Hongjoong was sleeping as your shift was about to end. Before you clocked out, you couldn't help but go to him, check his injury out, check his vitals. His friend—Seonghwa, you learned his name—left about an hour ago.
As if noticing your presence, his eyes slowly peeked open, slightly drugged and delirious from the pain medications.
“I didn't expect to see you here,” he mumbled out, blinking lazily.
“I didn't expect you, either,” you spoke, keeping your emotions in check.
Silence enveloped you as you checked his pulse ox. 
“Why’d you do that?”
He turned his head to look at you. “Do what?”
You unclipped the pulse oximeter from his finger. “Why’d you get into that fight? You were really injured.” You wanted to ask the deeper question, the question as to why he stepped in front of your car, but you didn't want to overstep.
He shrugged, wincing. He didn't have an answer. He didn't owe you one, really. 
“Just,” you breathed, moving over to the computer to open his chart. “Just don't do anything like this while you’re healing. You need surgery. You need rest.”
He bit his lip, probably stopping himself from saying something he shouldn't. 
“Also,” you sighed, looking over at him. “Your friend told me you were looking for me?”
“Yeah, well,” he scoffed. “I really didn't mean to meet you here.”
You let out a chuckle. “Well, here we are.”
He nearly smiled at you, lips curling beautifully. He had a bit of dried blood on his lip, and knowing that you were supposed to be leaving, you still reached for a washcloth. You didn't need to do this—in fact, you were acting against every thought in your head as you leaned forward and brushed the cloth against his lip, watching them part.
His breath hitched as you neared, as you touched him, and once again, his hand twitched, begging to touch you.
Your hand lingered on his cheek for a moment too long, meeting his eyes. He stared at you, expression unreadable, lips parted.
“Thanks,” he muttered.
You took a second to study his face before you moved away from him. His eyes followed you as you put space between you and him, dark and beautiful. 
You logged out of the portal on the computer. “We’ll move you to your own room before we prep you for surgery,” you said gently, heart aching as you met his gaze once more. “The doctor will tell you more.”
“Will you….be there for the surgery?” he showed no specific feelings as he asked the question.
“I am only part of the emergency department right now,” you shrugged. “I don't think so.”
He pondered for a second before nodding, settling himself back into the comfort of his hospital bed. “Okay,” he spoke softly.
You offered him a solemn look, causing him to stiffen.
“What?” he asked.
“What?” you repeated, confused.
He blinked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?” you frowned.
“Like you feel sorry for me.” He looked pained, a deeper type of pain.
You thought about a response to that—you didn't necessarily feel sorry for him, you didn't pity him either. In fact, you just felt an immense feeling of wanting to see him happy, to see him without pain.
Which confused you incredibly, given that he was just a stranger.
“I don't feel sorry for you,” you clarified. “I just don't want you to be in pain.”
“You don't even know me,” he huffed, his expression contorting, and you figured that he didn't even know how he was feeling—what he was feeling. “Why would you even care if I’m hurting?”
You smiled at him. “Because you don't deserve the pain.”
He just stared at you, hazily, emotionally. There was a light in his eyes—a light that wasn't there the other day. “You don't know me well enough to know that.”
The air grew cold; you had nothing left to say. You wished he realized that he didn't have to suffer like this.
“Goodnight, Hongjoong,” you hummed, walking away, feeling his stare burn into your back.
The next day, you found yourself drawn to the bed Hongjoong was in yesterday. It was empty, with him now in a room of his own in another part of the hospital.
You typed away at your computer as your colleague, Yeosang, came up to you. 
“Hey,” he leaned over the counter of the nurses’ station. “There's a guy asking for you.”
Yeosang, although very young, was a surgical resident in orthopedics. He was super smart, super sexy, super everything. You went to school together, spending lots of time in the library and everywhere else together. 
“Who?” you mumbled without looking up.
“He’s a patient I’m prepping for an open reduction surgery, but he’s having a hard time letting anyone touch him. Says he only needs you or something.”
You looked up, hands freezing on your keyboard. Hongjoong. “He won't let anyone touch him?”
Yeosang sighed, propping his head up on his palm as he leaned on the counter. “We had to give him more pain medication, and it made him a bit….difficult. I suspect he has some sort of trauma.”
You frowned. “And why is he asking for me?”
Yeosang gave you a knowing look. “I don't know. He kept saying your name, saying he needed you.”
You tried to avoid the rush of blood to your cheeks. “I don't even know him.”
“Yeah, about that….” Yeosang looked a bit confused, a smile peeking through his lips. “He keeps calling you his wife.”
Oh, dear god. “How drugged is he?” you huffed, looking defeated. 
Yeosang laughed. “I kept telling him that you weren't his wife, and he got super mad at me. He said only his wife can touch him. I really need him to stop this so I can get him into pre-op,” The surgeon sighed, giving you a pleading glance. “I’ll ask the attending if you can scrub in—”
“I’m an ER nurse,” you raised a brow. “I have other duties, Yeosang.”
“Y/n, please,” Yeosang pleaded, “ignore the rules or whatever. Can you just come and help me so we can get him into surgery?”
Your mind wandered to the fact that Hongjoong was having a hard time. Sure, he was delirious off of his meds and pain, but knowing that he was struggling with touch, a part of you crumbled.
So you followed Yeosang—after getting approved by the charge nurse, and went up to the third floor.
As you neared the room, you let Yeosang enter first. 
“Mr. Kim, I have Nurse y/n here for you.”
There Hongjoong was, his eyes frantic, his breathing rushed. He was anxious, a mess. The nurses tried to ease him, and relax him, but he wasn't having it. That is, until he saw you in the doorway.
“y/n,” he breathed, as if he knew you forever. Everyone in the room let out a sigh of relief.
“Hi, Hongjoong,” you spoke softly, walking slowly near him. You sat in the chair next to his bed, scooting closer as the room emptied, Yeosang being the only other presence. “I heard you were asking for me.”
He blinked, his eyes lined with worry, with anxiety. For someone who looks so tough, he looks like a completely different person.
He didn't speak; he just looked at you, his eyebrows furrowed, his expression all over the place. You took a glance at Yeosang, who was observing you before you reached for Hongjoong's hand just like before. 
The bruises were faded now, only old scars left on his skin. A tattoo trailed the skin of his arm. You went to rub his knuckles,  but Hongjoong gripped your hand tightly.
You met his frantic gaze. No words were spoken. He just pleaded with his touch, his eyes. You knew he was scared. 
“It's okay,” you hummed, fighting the urge to tuck his hair behind his ear. “It's a simple surgery. You will be just fine.”
He mumbled something, but you weren't able to catch it. Yeosang stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, the other nurses peering over his shoulder from the hall. Hongjoong’s gaze moved to the door, seeing everyone watching him.
And you realized that, more than being anxious, he was embarrassed, too.
You looked to Yeosang, giving him a desperate look, a silent cry for him to leave and to get those damn nosy bitches out, too. He complied, and they were alone once more.
“It’s alright,” you hummed, and this time, you did reach out to his face, gliding a gentle hand across his cheek. Without thinking, he leaned into your touch, craving it, longing for it, as if you were really his wife. “They’re gone now.”
His eyes were droopy, his lips downturned. He looked tough, someone with a rough exterior, but now, he was crumbling. He was alone. Alone to the point that he called for you, basically a stranger to him. 
The moment could have lasted forever. His eyes bled into yours, yours into his, your hand on his cheek drawing circles into his skin. He took in a breath, and nodded.
“Will you let them take care of you?” you asked him gently.
He hesitated. You also did, as you realized that he leaned into your touch rather than avoiding it. That he felt comfortable with you—the one who hurt him. In his eyes, though, he didn't see it that way.
Your hand stilled on his cheek, his worried eyes lighting up a little. You didn't even realize that his good hand—the hand that you were holding just a minute before, was now resting on top of your hand that was on his cheek. He gripped it, his medical haze confusing him, confusing you.
You froze, your eyes wide. You allowed his fingers to interlock yours, having him hold your hand to his face as he shut his eyes. He was vulnerable. Human. Although he looked tough, looked troubled, he was just a person under all that trouble. Just a normal guy with normal feelings, normal fears.
And you were indebted to each other. You for hitting him, him for his gratefulness of your care.
“I’ll be there with you,” you murmured, knowing that Yeosang was still outside the room, close enough to hear, close enough to see. “I’ll be in the room while they’re operating.” 
He nodded, his grip loosening slightly, but he still didn't release your hand.
“I’ll look after you,” you offered, and his eyes met yours once more. 
He slowly let go of your hand, allowing you to move back. You looked at Yeosang through the window, giving him a curt nod for him to come back in. 
Hongjoong let the other nurses touch him, but not without a grimace on his face. Yeosang’s words swirled around your mind; I suspect he has some sort of trauma.
Trauma. Trauma that didn't quite reach you—your touch. He allowed it, actually, he wanted it. You wondered what made him okay with yours. Why he needed you when you were the one to do this to him.
Eventually, Hongjoong entered the operating room, knocked out by anesthesia, but not without you holding his hand, making him childlike, making him….a normal human being.
After the surgery, Hongjoong sat in his bed even more dazed than before. Before the daze wore off, he kept calling you his wife, causing confusion to stir around the hospital. 
As you left Hongjoong’s room to go back to the ER, Yeosang followed. “What’s this about?”
“I don't know what you mean.” 
You walked faster.
“I mean, why does that guy keep calling you his wife?” Yeosang’s shoulder bumped into yours accidentally as you turned a corner. “And why are you the only one who can touch him? Why did you—”
You stopped suddenly. “Why did I what?”
Yeosang let out a breath. “Why did you….touch him like that? As far as I know, you….you aren't married.”
“I’m not married, you’re right,” you nodded, confused by why you touched him like that, too. Confused as to why he looked so relaxed with your touch rather than freaking out. “And…let’s just say we have met each other before. I did that to calm him down.”
You continued walking towards the elevator, Yeosang following still. “Okay, but you still didn't answer my question about why he keeps calling you his wife.” you pressed the down button and waited.
“Is that really any of your business?”
“Just a little—”
“Why?” you interrupted, turning towards him, arms crossed. “Why does it matter to you?”
You didn't mean to sound rude, you and Yeosang were good friends for a while. You've never dated, but you’ve flirted with each other occasionally. You never thought much of it other than being a little playful.
But the look on Yeosang’s face caused you to pause your racing thoughts. “Because I thought we…we had something going on?”
You blinked. “Do we?”
“I mean,” Yeo scoffed. “With the way you were looking at him, I don't think I have a chance.”
The elevator dinged, doors opening. You paused for a second before entering, Yeosang following.
It was quiet before the doors closed.
“I didn't think I looked at him any differently than anyone else,” you admitted honestly, causing Yeosang to look over at you. 
He gave you a smile, although it didn't quite reach his eyes. “You feel something for him, huh?”
You frowned, leaning back against the wall. “I barely know him. I only…” you sighed. “I only met him twice.”
“But yet, you are the only one he allows to touch him,” Yeosang breathed as the elevator dinged on the first floor. 
“That’s something to think about.”
Hongjoong was back to his normal self when you went to check on him in the evening; the anesthesia and meds had worn off. His arm was bandaged up and held in a sling, his eyes empty once more. 
You hesitated on entering, but his stare moved to you.
For a second, you saw regret, and embarrassment, cross his face before melting back into a void stare.
You entered, but he didn't look at you. He avoided your gaze, too. Very unlike his earlier, medical high self. 
You took his blood pressure, fingertips gently wrapping around his tattooed bicep as you put the cuff on. He didn't say anything, didn't even spare a passing glance. He just kept looking forward.
“119 over 79,” you mumbled out, letting loose of the cuff.
He nodded, coughing a bit. He didn't say anything, though.
“Dr. Kang told me that you’re cleared to be discharged,” you tried to start a conversation, but things just felt too awkward. You wrote down his vitals in his chart. “That’s good. Can I call anyone to pick you up? Maybe the guy that was here—”
“No,” he said quietly, looking down at his arm. “There is no one to call.”
“You need someone to help you. You just had surgery—”
“I have no one, y/n,” he hissed, finally looking at you. “Not like that’s any of your business, anyway.”
You didn't know what to say, so you just stared at him with confusion. He was putting his walls up.
“I just….don't want you to suffer alone,” you admitted.
“Why?” he let out a laugh, but it wasn't humorous. “I don't need your worry.”
“Okay,” you breathed, defeated. There was no point; he was just a stranger, just a man. Although, this feeling you had about him was overwhelming. And when you touched him, you wanted to hold him longer. Wanted him to feel better.
You left the room without a glance toward him and carried on the rest of your day as best you could.
Hongjoong was sitting on the bench outside the hospital entrance, head low, as if sleeping.
You knew you should keep walking. You shouldn't give him any attention, any time of day. But your chest ached as you got closer and closer, and as you reached him, you couldn't bear to walk past him.
“Why are you still here?” you asked him, keeping a good amount of distance away from him.
At your voice, he looked up quickly, as if waiting for you despite his nastiness earlier.
He took a second to respond. “I, uh, I’m just sitting here.”
You looked him over. His black hair was no longer styled spikey, it laid flat across his forehead softly. His tattoos were on full display in the black t-shirt he wore. 
“You don't have anywhere to go,” you meant to ask it like a question, but it came out more like a declaration. He furrowed his brows at your words but didn't deny it.
“I’m fine, I’ll figure it out,” he sniffed, the cold air dancing around him. He didn't even have a coat.
Without thinking, you spoke quickly. “Come with me.”
He tilted his head. “Why?”
“Because,” you huffed, taking a step closer to him. “I owe you.”
“For what?” he spat out, probably not intending to sound rude. 
You gave him an honest look, and his eyes softened. “Did you just forget that I hit you with my car? That I broke your arm?”
He just sat there, blinking slowly. “You don't owe me anything, y/n.”
You reached your hand out. His own hand twitched. “Come with me.”
After a long moment of just staring at your outstretched hand, he let his hand find yours, standing up at his full height. You got a good look at his face, his eyes, his lips. He was breathtakingly beautiful. So beautiful. 
You held his hand as you walked to your car, feeling a flutter of emotion in the pit of your stomach.
When you got to the car, you helped him into the passenger seat, despite his aggravated digs at you. You leaned over him, buckling his seatbelt, feeling his hot breath against your cheek.
You paused, frozen, inches away from his lips.
He swallowed hard, eyes glancing down at your lips. He didn't make a move. You didn't, either. 
You pulled away, forcing yourself to get out of his personal space to shut the door. You saw him tilt back his head and take a deep breath before you got to the driver's seat.
As you drove, you asked random questions like a goddamn idiot.
“So, uh,” you swallowed, looking over at him for a second. “What do you do for a living?”
What kind of damn question is that?
“I’m a musician,” he mumbled, looking out the window. “Kind of.”
“Ah,” you nodded, thinking of what to say next. Now you were thinking way too much into things. “What do you play?”
He looked down at his arm, sighing. “Well, I played the guitar, piano, some other things. I don't think I’ll be picking anything up for a while.”
“You will, eventually,” you tried to encourage him, but he just kept his gaze even out the window. You arrived at your apartment, pulled into the parking lot, and shut off the car. “We’re here.”
He nodded, watching you get out of the car. You opened his door, and with slight hesitation, you leaned over him again to unbuckle his seatbelt, but before you could, he stopped you with his good arm. 
You paused, inches from his face, meeting his eyes.
“Thanks,” he muttered quietly. “I’m sorry for how I acted earlier.”
“You don't have to be sorry,” you whispered, feeling an immense pull to him, to his lips.
You ignored the urge and unbuckled the belt, but you didn't back away. Not like you could, anyway, with Hongjoong’s grip on your arm tightening.
The belt slowly slipped off of him.
He chewed on his bottom lip, his eyes dancing with emotion. “I was just… embarrassed. And drugged, and uh, well,” he paused, thinking. “Mostly embarrassed. I can't believe I freaked out over a little surgery. That’s so lame—”
“No, it's not,” you hummed softly, delicately. “It's a normal fear.”
He smiled. Actually smiled. From the little time you knew him, you haven't seen a genuine smile on his face. Or any sort of light, really.
“Thanks, uh,” he sniffed. “Thanks again. For looking after me.” his eyes fell to your lips. “You don't even know me, and you still…” he trailed off.
You realized that you were inhaling the air he was exhaling, that you were eye to eye, almost nose to nose. His breaths were shaky, labored, and tired. 
“I would want someone to look after me in the same way,” You whispered. “That’s all.”
“That’s all?” he tilted his head upward, leaning against the headrest, warm, brown eyes on full display. 
“Mhm,” you swallowed. 
His eyes glimmered. He didn't have anything to say, and you didn't either. Realizing that you were shrinking the space ever so slowly, you took the opportunity to back away from the musician. He let go of your arm, but not without a little tug on it beforehand.
You cleared your throat as he got out of the car. You shut the door for him, and you walked together—slowly, till you reached your apartment door.
When you entered, hongjoong strayed back behind the door, not entering. You turned to face him, eyebrow raised. 
“Come in,” you beckoned, and with one more second of hesitation, he followed you in, shutting the door behind him.
He surveyed the place, his eyes finding the piano that sat in the corner of the room. His eyes danced as if surprised to see it there.
The air was thick. The room was quiet. You tossed off your shoes with ease, noticing his struggle with his own, so you bent down the help him. He didn't pull away, didn't speak. He just let you take care of it—of him.
“I don't mean to be a bother,” he mumbled as you untied his shoe. “But I’d really like to shower.”
You glanced up at him. “Oh,” you nodded, taking off his shoe before standing up. “Sure. it’s the first door down the hall.”
He didn't make any move. He stood, a confused, shy look resting on his face.
And then you realized.
He had no clothes to change into. Nothing. He also only had one working arm, and one covered in material that couldn't get wet.
“I can help you,” you trailed off, trying not to read too much into his stare. 
“If you comfortable with that.”
In the bathroom, Hongjoong stood anxiously as you waited for the water to warm up. It took a second, and most of the time, the hot water only lasted so long.
You figured a shower would be too difficult to help him with without seeing too much. You opted for a warm bath, filling the water up once it got hot enough. You made sure to add some suds to it, so he wasn't too uncomfortable.
When you turned around to face him,  his eyes were cloudy, his lips in a line.
“Do you….not like baths?” you mumbled, scratching your head. “I probably should've asked you before I—”
“It’s not that.” His eyes met yours, switching his weight onto his other leg. 
You didn't pry, knowing he was just probably embarrassed that he needed help for something as trivial as a bath. 
Walking toward him, he backed up into the door. You nearly smirked but maintained your cool as you grabbed the plastic bag off the sink counter. “I just have to wrap your cast in this. It'll just be a second. You might want to take your shirt off before I….”
He blinked, eyes wide. “Huh?”
“I don't think you normally bathe in clothes,” you murmured slyly, tilting your head. “Unless you like that.”
He didn't move. His body was as stiff as a board, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.
“Just take your shirt off, dammit, or I’ll do it for you.”
You saw his expression change the minute the words left your mouth.
His good hand found the hem of his t-shirt, hesitating to take it off. You realized that he probably did need your help with taking it off, but with the look in his eye, you weren't sure what would happen if you got any closer to him.
But you moved closer, anyway, setting the plastic bag back onto the counter. His back was nearly up against the wooden door, his breath hitching as your fingertips gently pulled at the fabric.
“Why are you….so okay with this?” he breathed before you could pull the shirt up.
You met his gaze, his eyes unreadable. Almost as if he didn't know what he was feeling, either. 
“I told you already,” you shrugged, smiling.
He blinked, his eyes red with emotion, begging to send a flood down his cheeks. “I don't deserve your help.”
“You do, though.” Ever so slowly, you began to pull his shirt, soft, carved abs appearing as you moved it up. “Because you know, you don't have to suffer alone.”
“Who said I was suffering?” he croaked out, his eyes, his tone, spilling his guts out on the floor for her to see. 
You didn't say anything. You just slowly tugged the black t-shirt over his casted arm, watching him wince slightly. Then, he stood, half-naked, emotionally charged in front of you. He was no longer a stranger. No longer someone that you classified as a patient, either.
His eyes spoke volumes, his good hand twitching at his side. You looked at it, and took it in your own.
“Come on,” you nodded behind you. “I’ll help.”
He looked like he was ready to cry. Ready to break down. He didn't, though, and you walked him over to the bath. You unbuttoned his jeans, but turned around as he stepped out of them and into the tub. 
The soap covered his lower body, all that was on display was his torso, his slim shoulders, the tattoos inked on his tanned skin.  He didn't break away from your gaze as you began to wash him.
“I feel….something I shouldn't be feeling,” he swallowed, his voice raspy, tender, defeated. 
“And what’s that?” you wondered before running your hands through his silky hair, coating the strands in your lavender shampoo.
He shut his eyes, sighing. “I don't know what it is, but what I do know is, for some reason, your touch is very calming when everyone else’s hurts me.”
You paused, hands still tangled in his locks, but he opened his eyes.
A confession of feelings—worth more than any other cliche words. He stared up at you, heart on his sleeve, confusion and fear and everything in between dancing around his eyes.
“For the first time,” he whispered, the only sounds in the room being your shaky breathing and the quiet trickle of water from the spigot. “I feel…comfortable being touched. I….need it.”
His lips parted, his hair dripping wet, your hands still frozen within the strands. You didn't know how to respond, didn't know exactly how you felt, either. But you also knew one thing, and it became ever so apparent as his hand slowly reached your cheek, wet fingertips leaving a trail of soap across your skin.
You blinked slowly.
Softly, gently, you moved forward, over the tub, and brushed your lips against his. His eyes remained open from shock, but his lips moved slowly along with yours.
You pulled away, but didn't go too far, resting your forehead against his. His breaths tickled your skin, sending a blush to your cheeks. 
Emotions are complex. You didn't know exactly why you kissed him. Why you needed to. Why you wanted to do it again. But what you did know was that you liked how his touch felt, liked the little smile that appeared as you kissed him, liked how he gently pulled you back into another kiss.
You took in his breath as you kissed once more, this time a bit more urgent. Your hands gripped his soapy hair, his hand rested softly on your cheek, his thumb on the corner of your lips, his fingers tickling the lobe of your ear. 
He kissed you like he knew you forever. Like he knew just how you liked it. You found your hand trailing down his tattooed neck, fingers dancing on the ink, his dewy skin, his tongue in your mouth.
You parted once more, so close, breaths tangling, fingers scrunching. His breath was hot against your face, his dark eyes pleading.
You’d so get on top of him in that damn tub. You wanted to, so bad. But you remembered that his arm was hurt, that you were the one that did it, and you nearly stood up to move away before he gripped you by the arm.
“Don't go,” he breathed hazily.
So you didn't. You washed him, this time, knowing that you were begging to end this bath and fuck him silly till the sunrise. Till the warm, glow of the burning star fluttered through your blinds. And with that damn look on his face, you knew he was thinking about it, too.
You helped him out of the bath, not turning around this time. He stood slowly, body on full display, even more tattoos, even more scars covering the skin you didn't get to see. 
You sheepishly handed him a towel. He took it, but didn't use it to cover himself up.
“You’re not dating that damn doctor, are you?” he spoke, his tone serious, deep. Sensuous. 
You breathed out, “No.” 
He grinned, cheshire-like. “Good.”
You could tell he wanted to rip your clothes off. He wanted to claw at your skin like some goddamn animal, his expression pained in all of the right ways. 
You needed air. God, this bathroom was stuffy.
Turning on your heel, you forced yourself to walk out of the damn room, because if you didn't, Hongjoong would become something far more stranger than, well, a stranger to you.
But he had other plans. More impulsive plans.
He followed you out of the bathroom and into your main living space. He gripped your hand, his fingertips gently pressing into your skin. When you turned to face him, he was dripping wet onto the lightwash wood floor, beads of water collecting on the ends of his hair. His eyes were wide, begging you for something, anything.
So you gave up on your act.
“Do you want to fuck me right now?” you wheezed, smiling as his eyes widened even more. “Is that what you want?”
You stepped closer to him at his silence, and arched your body against his bare torso, feeling the hardness of him press your thigh, his lips begging to meet yours once more.
You teased him, lifting your mouth to his, letting out a sigh. He shivered as your hands felt up his bare skin, and your hot breath tickled his face. 
He nearly growled, his good arm wrapping around your waist swiftly, tugging your body towards him completely, holding you here as his mouth crashed to yours. His broken arm begged to touch you, too, and without thinking, he moved it quickly. He hissed in pain, his arm definitely hurting him, but he didn't care as much as you did. You tried to part from his lips, to ask him if he was okay, but he bit hard down on your lip to keep you from speaking. 
You moaned while he stuck his tongue down your throat, his hand now tearing at your top, your waistband. You hurriedly tore off your clothes for him, giving him no second to stare at your body before tossing yourself onto him again. He grunted, moaning into your mouth, the vibrations tickling every part of you. He pushed you back, nearly tripping over the throw rug, the coffee table, until your back slammed into the keyboard of your piano.
The keys slammed as your ass hit them roughly, the musician making music without even intending to. His hips bucked into yours, your core right where he needed it, his dick pulsing, aching to be inside you. You lifted your hips, grinding them against his cock, gaining pleasure in his expression.
He nearly whined as you bit his ear lobe, his hips shifting into you, begging for you.
“Can I get inside you?” he moaned, eyes frantic. “I need you, fuck, I need it bad.”
In more ways than one, he needed you, but now, he needed your body. Needed your touch, your moans. You obliged, your body already wet enough for him to enter. You lined up, and without a second to waste, he slowly moved into you, causing you to toss your head back at the feeling. His eyes rolled back; a whine left his pretty pink lips, his chest heaved in pleasure.
His head dipped to suck your nipple, tongue gliding over the sensitive skin of your breast. You huffed, trying so hard to breathe. He let out moans that did something dangerous to your body, to your mind. You moaned along with him as his hips snapped.
“Oh, god,” he whimpered, his tone light, airy. Water dripped onto the soft skin of his chest from his hair. “You feel so good.”
You smiled, tearing your hands up his back as the piano cried along with you. The keys clicked, moaning from the weight above them. The music filled the room, tangled within your breaths, your sweat. You gripped the back of his head, lacing your fingers through his wet, dripping hair, feeling yourself get wetter and wetter by the minute.
Your walls caved into him, his cock pulsing inside you. He looked into your eyes for a long moment as he moved, his black hair stuck to his forehead, his mouth open in gratification. He kissed you, tongue dragging across your bottom lip, tugging on it. He liked to bite.
You felt euphoria reach you before you knew it, and you cried out, gripping his hair, pulling it as he fucked you. His face pained, his teeth barred, his eyes shut tight. Just his expression—his appearance—could've made you come on the spot.
You felt tingles in your fingers, and your toes, and saw stars in your vision. Black spots fluttered, your heart rate probably much higher than it should be. You didn't care if you died right here, right now. It didn't matter. Nope. This was bliss. So much better than that damn vibrator.
You felt like you were on fire—no, more like a falling, burning star crashing to earth. Your stomach ached at his pressure, your hips aching, your head pounding. You came onto him with haste as your vision blurred, tearing into his shoulder blades, leaving little marks on his skin. At your actions, you witnessed the look of utter satisfaction on the pretty boy’s face, his breaths quickening, shallowing. He let out a whine, just as musical as the keys underneath you.
Before he could come, he pulled out, cumming all over your breasts, your stomach. You sighed, closing your eyes, trying to catch your breath.
He stared at you, eyes low, lips swollen and red. So fuckable, so delicious. 
He looked at how he painted you, smirking a bit to himself. He was so full of life, full of emotion. “Let me go grab that towel,” he breathed, his voice crackling a bit. You watched in enjoyment when he walked away from you, watching his ass, his legs, the tattoos move with him.
He returned with the towel, wiping you gently as if he hadn't just made you nearly black out. You gazed at him, not sure what you were feeling, how you were feeling. You could do it all night with him, with this guy who was a stranger only a couple of days before. It wasn't too often that you acted on your desires, but there was no possible way you were supposed to avoid this, avoid him.
When he was done, when you were clean, he set the towel down on the floor, but his eyes didn't leave you. 
“What?” you hummed.
“Just,” he breathed, smiling. “That was really good.”
“I hope so,” you chuckled the feeling of the room lightening, almost in a playful way. “I hope this wasn't your goal all along—you really freaked me out when I hit you.”
He looked down as you jumped off the piano. “Uh, yeah. I bet I did.”
You moved to him, gently reaching to hold his cheeks for him to look at you. “I got you now, huh? No more running in front of cars, unless it's mine. I’ll be prepared next time.”
His eyes widened as if he was shocked by your words. That you knew he did it on purpose. He didn't deny it. He just leaned into your touch, eyes closing tight in comfort.
“Like I said,�� you started, giving his lips a little peck. “I’ll look after you, if you’ll allow it.”
He took in a deep breath, opening his eyes, meeting your sincere gaze. His lips curved up. “I’ll look after you, too.”
You smiled along with him. You wrapped your arms around his waist tightly, embracing him, feeling even more intimate than sex. He let out a shaky breath, as if finally realizing he wasn't alone, didn't have to be. That he deserved a caring touch, a longing touch, a needy touch. That he could actually have something to himself.
You didn't know what you were to each other, and it really didn't matter. There was no need to label it so specifically. You could be his rock, his personal nurse, the person to stitch him up when he gets hurt. The one he could confide in, have sex with, whatever he needed. Whatever you needed. 
So when he kissed the top of your head while you hugged him, you tightened your arms just a little, holding onto him as long as he’ll let you.
You’ll look after each other.
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How about a girlfriend that does charity and she does it with the driver maybe Lando? when they’re home together (like idk buying and donating things for orphanage or women’s shelter) if you’re comfortable with he idea
"I don't mind auctioning my stuff away, but how about some of your things too?", Lando suggested as you sorted through his wardrobe and helmet and racesuits collections.
"I've been donating clothes that are still in good shape - your clothes have more value because they've been worn by you, so it brings in more money", you reasoned, "no one would buy anything from me", you shrugged your shoulders.
"We could try, though! Chat is always crazy about you and I think they would be down for that. Say this dress here - didn't you tell me that it pinched you and it hurt your boobs?", he pointed to a black dress you wore to a team Christmas dinner, "I certainly don't want you in pain and never hurting these", he cupped your boobs, smirking like a horny teenager, "so maybe it would be good to sell and then donate that money?", he suggested.
"I doubt anyone would pay good money for it, but sure, we can try! And we could throw this one in the mix too, and this shirt - if anyone's paying for anything it's because it's a good piece", you mumbled.
"Hi guys! Chat is all excited because you're here, see?", Lando kissed your temple and secured you on his lap, "today's stream is a little different, and you might have seen a little bit of it from the stories I put up earlier this week", Lando explained, "earlier this week Y/N and I made a big order of clothes and some furniture for an orphanage back home. They have an amazing program to ensure kids have a future in what they want to study or work in and we're also visiting them soon, and we thought you guys would want to help too if you wanted!", he smiled.
"This seems like we're decluttering the house - and in a way we are, to be honest, but there's this organisation here in Monaco that helps new parents in need - anything from diapers, formula, wipes, medications, clothes - and since we don't know much about that", you said as Lando chirped in, "not yet", smiling as he kissed your temple again, "since we don't know much about it, we were thinking of auctioning Lando's racesuits and a spare helmet, and all of the money would be going to that organisation", you explained, still blushing from his comment.
Lando put up the website where you had uploaded the photos and details, "someone says "there are some of Y/N's dresses here, are they for auction too?" - Yes, they are! This one wasn't so sure anyone would buy them so please buy them because a) it's for a good cause and b) I would get to tell her "I told you so" and get bragging rights for being right", he smiled smugly.
"Wow, you're really loving it", you spoke to the stream as the pieces or clothing were getting higher and higher bids, "guys, thank you so much! You have no idea how happy this makes me, us! We donate to this organisation every year and now we thought we could make a bigger contribution but never this big, thank you so much", you smiled, feeling a bit emotional and how caring and giving everyone was being, even people typing in the chat that they had made a direct money donation with the quantity they were able to give.
"What can I say? I'm always right", Lando charmed, praising himself as you cuddled closer to him, "you were", you whispered.
"Louder, baby, the chat can't hear you say I was right", he chuckled.
"Oh, the lady at the orphanage just sent us pictures of the kids doing their homework on the new desks!", you showed Lando the pictures you were sent, "I wish we could show you guys, but the little faces are showing", you said, pursing your lips and scrolling through until you found one of just the room, "this one doesn't! Look at how great their room looks now!", you gushed as you showed the camera.
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
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whatsk-poppinhomies · 2 months
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Pairing : Han Jisung x F!Reader TW : anonymous friends to lovers type beat ; physical fighting ; reader is bullied ; angst ; fluffy ending ; Word Count : 8.9k A/N : Haven't even started writing this one yet but I know it's gonna take a bit, I hope the wait is worth it!! I hope that this is good! I kind of changed things a little bit, but I feel like it's still good... right? It has a k-drama feel to it... Not proof read!! Request : Anonny : Hello! If your requests are open can you write something for skz han? Where han is a popular person that everyone likes and he doesn't know the identity of reader but they are able to have really nice conversations. He thinks he found the person he's been talking to and starts dating them and reader agrees to help the person with talking to him. But han actually starts talking to reader and realizes that they were the person he fell in love with. Reader didn't tell him their true identity bc they were told he could never love someone like them. I hope that makes sense.
An anonymous chat room… What could possibly go wrong? It had started as a way for other students to get help with certain subjects without the judgment of their peers over not knowing enough. Soon enough, like most things, it had completely lost its original reason for being made, and now it was being used for anything but studying. There were chat rooms for dissing people, chat rooms for hooking up, and then there was the more… safe chat rooms, for people that were just lonely and wanting to talk, people that were too awkward or shy to have conversations face to face. Everyone had an online identity that no one else knew about… A different persona… It was scary… But sometimes it was nice to just… Talk to someone. 
JiHizzy : Hey! You online? 
Your phone vibrated with the message, and you couldn’t help but smile at the familiar sound of the notification. You had been talking to him for weeks now, and it was the one part of your day that you truly looked forward to. 
JustAnotherGirl : Yeah! What’s up?
JiHizzy : Finally got back to my dorm. I was trying to study for finals…
JustAnotherGirl : I’m gonna guess that didn’t work out for you? 
JiHizzy : Crazily enough, I ended up at the bar instead of the library. 
JustAnotherGirl : I don’t know how you could possibly get the two confused lol
JiHizzy : It’s a friday night, I don’t think anyone was at the library. Weren’t you at the bar too? It was packed. 
JustAnotherGirl : Mm… Nope! I don’t really party like that, I was too busy studying for my finals. 
JiHizzy : Ooh, the innocent type? I like that.
JustAnotherGirl : Are you flirting with me? 
JiHizzy : I might be… You know the acronym of your username is jag… all you need is I and you’d be jagi to me. 
JustAnotherGirl : That must be the alcohol talking…
JiHizzy : Not at all. You’re just my type. I really want to meet you.
JustAnotherGirl : Oh, would you look at the time? We should get some sleep! Goodnight! 
While it was supposed to stay an anonymous chat room, some people were just too popular to stay hidden longer than the first week. One of those people was JiHizzy, better known as Han Jisung, the most popular guy on campus simply because of his looks. All of the girls wanted him, and all of the guys wanted to be him. He was the top of the totem pole, and that put you at the very bottom. 
If the two of you were to walk past each other on campus, he wouldn’t even spare you a passing glance… But with the promise of anonymity, you were able to talk to him every night. You were able to know what it felt like to be liked by someone like him. You could never meet him though, if he found out who you really were… He’d stop talking to you immediately. You didn’t want to lose him… Even if you didn’t truly have him. 
///
JiHizzy : Are you in class right now? 
In the silence of the classroom, the vibration of your phone was much louder than you thought it would be. Everyone turned to look in your direction, and you quickly grabbed your phone and placed it on your lap, hoping that if another message came in, it would be silent. 
JiHizzy : I know you are, you’re such a good girl… WAIT DOES THAT SOUND WEIRD!? I’M SORRY!! 
JiHizzy : I was just thinking that maybe… Maybe you could tell me what class you’re in…
JiHizzy : And I could get a glimpse of you… Or who I think is you… I just want to have a face to go with the name…
You held in your sigh as you felt your phone vibrate incessantly against your lap, chewing on your bottom lip as you attempted to focus on your studies, but it seemed like he wouldn’t let up unless you responded. 
JiHizzy : PLEASE!! 
JustAnotherGirl : Why is it so important? I like being anonymous… I like talking to you…
JiHizzy : Because I like you, and I can’t stop thinking about you, and I want to daydream about you…
JiHizzy : But it’s kind of hard to daydream about someone if I don’t know what they look like.
JustAnotherGirl : Well, daydream about what you think I look like. It’s probably better than how I really look anyway. 
JiHizzy : You’re talking like I’ll stop messaging you or stop liking you if I meet you…
JiHizzy : You don’t think I’m that kind of person… Do you? 
JustAnotherGirl : I don’t know who you are… But it’s just easier like this for me… 
JiHizzy : Alright alright
JiHizzy : I’m sorry if I upset you…
JiHizzy : But hey! I heard that they’re releasing an update soon where we can actually talk to each other on the phone!
JustAnotherGirl : Can’t people tell who other people are by their voice? 
JiHizzy : Idk… But I want to call you when it comes out. Can we at least do that?
JustAnotherGirl : Maybe… I’ll think about it… I have to study now. So do you! 
JiHizzy : Right! Okay, I’ll message you later! 
He daydreamed about you… He thought about you… You wondered what this image looked like, the girl that he thought you were. You were sure that it looked nothing like you, and it was better that way. He was so popular, you didn’t want to tarnish his image if he was even seen talking with you, let alone walking beside you… although you were sure that something like that would never happen. 
///
When the call feature was released, everyone was so excited. People were testing it out as soon as their apps updated… But you were dreading it. Texting guaranteed staying anonymous, but hearing someone's voice, even if they didn’t know what you looked like, a voice was a way to identify someone. Even Jisungs voice, anyone and everyone could tell it was him coming if they heard him talking. His voice was distinct, it was his and his only. You didn’t know how distinct your voice would be, and the only thing you had going for you was the fact that you didn’t talk much at all. 
A time that you’d usually be counting down to now had your stomach twisted up into knots, your knees folded up against your chest as you tried to think of anything but the inevitable phone call that you knew he would ask for. “What’s got you all worked up?” Your roommate asked as she walked into your room. As if things couldn’t get any worse, she just had to be back in at a normal hour. 
Of course you had gotten paired up to dorm with the most popular girl on campus, it was just another way of lifes mysterious twists and turns supposedly. She was absolutely ruthless, and while you had asked to have your room changed at the beginning of every semester, it miraculously could never be done. As if college wasn’t hard enough, having to reside with her was just added stress. 
“Fine. Ignore me. I didn’t want to talk to you anyway.” She mumbled, dropping down onto the ridiculously large and disgustingly luxurious bed that took up almost the entirety of her half of the room. She was rich, of course she was, and she took every opportunity to flaunt her wealth to everyone on campus, and you were no exception, you just got the brunt of it. 
“I’m gonna take a shower real quick… Do you have to use the bathroom before I get in?” You asked, keeping your head down so she didn’t look at you like the peasant that you knew she thought you were. She scoffed loudly, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw her flick her wrist in the direction of the bathroom. 
JiHizzy : You awake? Don’t tell me you’re sleeping already! 
JiHizzy : You haven’t been online in 3 hours! Come onnnnn!
JiHizzy : Are you ignoring me?!?!?! :( 
JiHizzy : Did I do something… Say something wrong? 
JiHizzy : Ahhh… Maybe you are sleeping… Okay 
JiHizzy : Goodnight! Sleep well!!
You never took your phone into the bathroom with you, not just because it seemed unsanitary or unhygienic, you also couldn’t afford to potentially drop it on the tile floor and bust the screen. Maybe you should have, but again, you didn’t think that your roommate would go through your phone. You were pretty sure that she wouldn’t even touch something that belonged to you. You had never been more wrong. 
The vibrating of your phone had caught her attention, and maybe if it had only gone off once she would have ignored it, but Jisung was a spam texter. “Hmm…” She hummed to herself as she snatched your phone off the nightstand, and her curiosity quickly turned to annoyance when she saw just who had been texting you. “No way… There’s no way!” She shrieked, glaring at your phone. 
As the story goes, the popular guy should automatically be with the popular girl… that’s how it always goes! She wouldn’t allow something like this to happen… It just couldn’t. She was being a good person, she had to look out for Jisungs reputation, that’s what it was. Luckily everything was anonymous, you were anonymous… He wouldn’t have to be embarrassed to like you… He wouldn’t even have to know it was you. 
“What are you doing?” She was still holding your phone as you walked out of the bathroom, and your stomach dropped as you thought about what she could have been doing to your phone. Why would she even have it. “Look… I don’t touch your stuff, please don’t touch mine.” You mumbled as you scurried over to grab your phone out of her hand. 
“Jesus, don’t have a tantrum.” She muttered, rolling her eyes as she turned her attention back to her own phone. “Maybe you should silence your notifications before leaving your phone unattended.” Her words only worried you more, prompting you to check what she could have been talking about, and you could feel the anxiousness creeping up further and further until it had taken you over completely. 
She had seen the notifications, and you’d be a fool to think that she didn’t know exactly who it was that was messaging you. Would she tell him? It would be absolutely humiliating, it would destroy you, you couldn’t imagine the way he and his friends would react to finding out that it was you who he had been talking to. Should you tell her not to say anything? “I…” No… It might make her say something. Maybe she’ll forget about it in the morning. That would be the best case scenario. 
“I think Han Jisung and I would be the perfect couple, right? I mean, we’re both popular, we’re both insanely attractive! That’s why I feel so bad for him, you know? It’s not like he’d willingly go for a complete loser, but this stupid anonymous app is really getting his hopes up.” You were right there, she knew exactly what she was doing, but she still had the audacity to look over at you with the fakest smile. “Were you saying something?” 
“N-No…” You stammered, pushing yourself up off your bed and heading to the door. “I’m gonna take a walk, I’ll be back later…” She didn’t say anything to you as you left, simply laughing along with the multitudes of friends that she had on call. Had she told them? Were they all laughing at you? Of course they were, she was right… Why would he want to be with someone like you? You were a nobody, a speck of dust, no… Not even that. People notice dust… you were less than that. 
But why didn’t you deserve to be happy, even if that meant staying behind the safety and security of your phone screen and a basic username? Were you not allowed to have anything? Not even some sort of happiness brought by anonymous interaction? Isn’t that how everything on the internet is nowadays anyway? No one really knows each other… So why is it such a big deal if you talk to him? Why should you be shamed for doing it the way you have been? Could you not even have this one thing? 
Being outside was like a breath of fresh air, at least for a moment, but those thoughts brought on by the words of your roommate were suffocating. Should you even respond to him? He thought you were sleeping already… you could tell him you had been busy… His messages have the ability to help you feel better in an instant, and you needed that now. You clicked on the notification and quickly typed in your password to open the app, and not even a second passed before your phone was vibrating in your hand. 
JiHizzy : Hey! There you are! 
JustAnotherGirl : Hm… Were you just sitting and waiting for me to come online?
JiHizzy : and what if I was?? 
JiHizzy : you know I can’t sleep without talking to you first. 
JustAnotherGirl : I didn’t know that though…
JiHizzy : well now you know! :D 
JiHizzy : so… the call feature came out! I want to call you! Can I?
JustAnotherGirl : uhm… I don’t know… 
JiHizzy : are you in your room? Is your roommate sleeping? I can talk quiet!
JustAnotherGirl : no… no it’s not that…
JiHizzy : I want to hear your voice… please? We can talk about anything! Anything you want! 
JustAnotherGirl : I guess… 
In a second your phone was buzzing, Jisungs screen name front and center on your screen. What a foolish feature this is, why not just give people your phone number if you’ll just talk on the phone? What’s next? Video calling? What if…? You would never do that… You couldn’t… He wouldn’t want to see you anyway. 
Your hands shook as you accepted the call and brought your phone up to your ear. “Hehe, hey! Took you a bit to answer, I thought you’d just ignore me!” His voice came with a face, one that you could perfectly envision in your mind. His smile, the creasing of his eyes as he probably laid back against his pillow, one arm tucked under his head, perfectly at ease with everything. He was so lucky and he probably didn’t even realize it. 
“Oh… uh… no. I was just… trying to find somewhere to sit.” You lied, looking around at the line of streetlamps that illuminated the sidewalks that led to different buildings. “H-Hi…” You stammered, and you knew exactly why you were flustered, why you were so nervous. Jisung was practically a GOD here, and you might as well have been an earthworm with how much lower you were than him. If anyone found out about this, you were sure that the both of you would be humiliated, but for vastly different reasons. 
“You don’t have a couch or a bed or anything in your dorm?” He asked, and you felt stupid, this whole thing just felt insanely stupid. So what if you didn’t have a couch or a bed in your dorm anyway, not everyone was made of money! What was he going to do, judge you for it? “Well… Look, if you need help or anything… I-” 
“I don’t need help.” You stated quickly, and you truly didn’t. Sure, you didn’t have a couch or a flat screen television in your dorm, but you had a bed, and that was more than what most people had, so you had no reason to complain. “I’m actually-” A particularly loud gust of wind whipped around you, the force so strong that you could almost hear it crackling in your speaker, and it whipped up freshly fallen leaves around you. 
“Are you outside?” There was a slight panic in his voice, although you weren’t sure why. It’s not like you hadn’t braved elements far more atrocious than wind before. But then again, he didn’t exactly know you well. With the image he had in his mind of you, he probably thought you were too pretty, too perfect to be outside in the wind, potentially getting your hair messed up. “Did you go outside just to talk to me? I-If I knew you were going to do that, I would have just said to wait until a different day to call. I don’t want you to get ill.” 
You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth. Was he always this caring, or was he just pretending? Only the people closest to him would know, and you weren’t close to him at all. Surely to be as popular as he was, he’d have to be some kind of an asshole… That’s how the movies and the shows always depict the popular guys. They were too good for people like you… But… He didn’t know you were a person… A person like you. “It’s fine, really. I’ve walked home in thunderstorms before… A little gust of wind isn’t going to take me out.” 
There was a sigh from his end of the call, and then the rustling of what sounded like sheets or blankets. “Well tell me where you are. You’re already out, and I wouldn’t mind walking a bit to come see you. I really want to know you… I can get my shoes on real quick and-” You hung up the call before he was finished, your breath held in your throat, and you didn’t let it go until you were certain the call was ended. It was rude, sure, of course it was… But why was he so god damn pressed on meeting you!? Why wasn’t this good enough for him too?! 
JiHizzy : Did the call cut out? Was it the wind?? Are you okay!?
JiHizzy : If you don’t answer me, I’ll… I don’t know… I’m not a computer wizard but…
JiHizzy : I know people can trace things and… Please tell me you’re okay. I’m worried.
JustAnotherGirl : yeah… I’m fine… 
JustAnotherGirl : my phone battery is dying… 
JiHizzy : Oh! Okay! 
JiHizzy : Get inside quick, please. Charge your phone and message me in the morning… yeah?
JustAnotherGirl : yeah… 
JustAnotherGirl : Goodnight…
JiHizzy : Goodnight beautiful! 
This was getting worse, it was only going to get harder… Maybe you should cut ties with him now… It would be better that way, wouldn’t it? It wasn’t paying off to selfishly keep him, basically trapped behind your phone screen because you were scared of the embarrassment that would come along with actually meeting him. You needed to let him go…
///
Your roommate was laying in bed, a sheet mask over her face and the bedside table lamp had been dimmed. She was sleeping, at least that’s what you thought, until the door latch clicked as you shut it and she jumped up. “What were you out doing, huh?” The questions immediately started, and you shook your head, going over to your bed and yanking back the blankets. “I know that you weren’t out with… him. He would drop dead before being seen with the likes of you, ya know?” 
She snickered annoyingly, and you whipped around, your face scrunched up as you tried to keep the tears at bay. “How? How do you know that? How should I know that?! Do you know him?! Do you really know him?!” You asked, or, more like begged for her to give you the answers. You weren’t really sure why you were going to her of all people, maybe you were just desperate to hear that… that you would be good enough… Maybe not for him… But for someone. 
The loud laugh that poured from her lips was like a gut punch, and you dropped down onto your bed, absolutely humiliated, devastated, you felt like a fool. “Listen… I’m gonna do you a favor… You know, since we’re… friends…” This was bound to be an awful idea, you were sure of it, but you felt like she was going to keep talking anyway and… It was beginning to feel like you didn’t have a choice. “I think it’ll be a win for both of us… So, I’ll meet him, as you… And you get to keep talking to him at night. He’ll fall in love with me and my beautiful looks, as everyone always does, and… Well, you won’t be lonely. How does that sound?” 
It sounded terrible, it sounded awful, it was an elaborate ruse that surely no one would fall for… But… He wouldn’t ask you to meet him anymore… You’d still talk to him… She wouldn’t bother you or even have a reason to try to embarrass you on campus. You could stay hidden, it could work… It could really work. “Fine…” You mumbled, running your hands over your face, trying not to think too hard. “You… I don’t want to get involved too much with… What the two of you might do… But if he brings it up in the chat… You’ll have to… Tell me…” It was the last thing you’d ever want to know, but if this was going to work, you’d have to give him up just to have him still… It sounded crazy. You’d never have with him what she could… All you would ever be able to have are late night conversations, living out a fantasy through the tellings of your roommate and him. It would have to be good enough. 
“Oh, don’t worry… I’ll tell you everything!” She clapped her perfectly manicured nails together, and you knew there was something sinister about it, but this felt like the only way. “Get some sleep, we have a lot of planning to do tomorrow. This is going to be great!” 
///
“Where did you tell him to meet me… I mean… you?” She whispered, reading over your shoulder to try to see what the messages on your phone said. This was it… Today was the day… She’d probably tell him to delete the app since he finally met “you”. Was it worth it? Probably not… But you had been alone for the longest time before this all happened, you’d be fine with being alone after this as well. Nothing would change for you… But she would get everything she wanted… As if she didn’t have it all already. 
“The… The fountain, at the center of campus…” You mumbled. Would he really think it was you? The two of you sounded nothing alike… But would he be able to pick up on that? Probably not, he didn’t seem like the type that really cared for things like that. He was so excited that you finally agreed to meet him, the messages were flooding in and she had been right there to read all of them. 
JiHizzy : I’m on my way to the fountain now! 
JiHizzy : I can’t believe this is finally happening… We’ve been talking for almost 4 months now…
JiHizzy : Isn’t this crazy?!?! 
JiHizzy : I’m just a little nervous… I hope you don’t mind.
JustAnotherGirl : I don’t… I don’t mind at all…
Have fun… You thought to yourself as you stood at a distance, watching as Jooyi stood at the fountain, switching between sitting on the edge and standing every couple of seconds. She fumbled with the edge of her skirt, and fixed her hair, then checked her makeup. She was nothing like you… Would he be able to notice, even if you had only talked through text and occasionally on the phone? Was he able to tell your personality through little things like that? 
Then you saw him, practically sprinting towards the fountain, it was like everything was in slow motion. Did he even know who to look for? Would Jooyi fit the image of you that he created in his mind? You leaned against the light pole, your phone clutched against your chest… One message and you could ruin this all for her… But it would cost you too much, and you would have nothing to show for it, nothing to gain. People like you weren’t made for people like him, he would never stoop so low as to even look in your direction. They were made for each other… Who were you to ruin things? 
“Jisung!” You heard her voice ringing in your ears, and you looked up from the pavement to see her waving in his direction, and he paused. Did he know? You watched him closely, and you saw the smile slowly beginning to form on his face before he sprinted over to her. His arms wrapped around her waist in a tight hug, picking her up and spinning her around before setting her on the ground. It would never be you, that could never be you… You made two people happy today… It should feel good, but you felt sick, and you quickly turned away, rushing back to your dorm room. You didn’t have to be there to watch it, you’d hear all about it when she came back. 
///
JiHizzy : It was… Wow… 
JiHizzy : Finally meeting you in person! It’s amazing! 
JustAnotherGirl : Yeah! I’m so happy that I finally got to meet you! 
You sniffled softly as you looked over his messages. They wouldn’t be the same again, nothing would. He’d talk about everything that he did with “you”, and you’d just have to respond as if… as if it were truly you there. This… This deal… It wasn’t fair at all. It was just rubbing into your face everything that Jooyi got to do with him… And he was the one unknowingly telling you… She was evil… But she was a master at being just that. 
JiHizzy : Well… Do you want to talk on the phone? I mean… 
JiHizzy : We’ve already met each other and… I don’t know why… 
JiHizzy : I could ask you for your number… But I don’t want to get rid of the app.
JustAnotherGirl : oh? Why?
JiHizzy : There’s just so many memories on here…
JiHizzy : Sometimes when I’m alone or sad… I go back through our messages. You really know how to make me happy…
JustAnotherGirl : Really…?
JiHizzy : Yeah… Really. 
JiHizzy : Don’t tell anyone though! The guys would totally mock me for that.
JustAnotherGirl : I won’t… I won’t tell anyone.
Jooyi burst through the door, shopping bags lining her arms and she dropped them carelessly to the floor before falling back onto her bed, a loud, ear piercing squeal escaping her as she kicked her feet. “He’s so amazing! He’s so much cuter up close! He wants to take me on a date this weekend!!” She squealed again, and you felt disgusted. Did he want to take her on a date, or did he want to take you on a date? Was it her looks or was it your personality that he liked? 
“I’m… Really happy for you, Jooyi.” You lied through gritted teeth. You hated hearing about it, you hated hearing her in general, but hearing her talk about him as if she was the one who had put in the work over four months to get him to like her… It was unfair. You faked a yawn and rubbed your eyes, acting tired just to be able to wipe your tears without her noticing. “I’m gonna go to the library and study. I’ll see you later.” 
She was lost in her own world, but she sat up as you reached the door, your backpack slung over your shoulder and your hand on the doorknob. “Hey!” You put on a smile as you turned to face her, waiting for her to continue. “Did he message you? Did he talk about me? Hmm?” 
You felt your phone vibrate in your back pocket, you knew it was him, but you shook your head. “Haven’t heard from him… Maybe he deleted the app… I don’t know. I have to study though, I’ll let you know if he does.” She sighed softly, letting her head fall back against the mattress, she was back in dreamland. Her whole life was a dream… And yours was a nonstop nightmare. 
///
The library was practically empty when you walked in, you could hear every squeak of the floorboards as the one or two other students paced the shelves of books. You could almost hear the buzzing of the fluorescent light that hung over your head… You could hear… “Is this seat taken?” The man asked, and you looked up to see Jisung standing next to the chair that was across from you. It was strange, and you looked around at the vast amount of empty tables that filled the large building. Why would he want to sit with you? “I don’t like sitting by myself… I feel like it’s easier to study when I have someone sitting with me.” 
Could he read your mind? Pfft, no! That’s impossible. “It’s not taken…” You mumbled, trying to keep your voice low, hoping that he wouldn’t recognize it from the phone calls. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how furious Jooyi would be if she found out about this. Maybe you should just leave. You could study another night. Then your phone vibrated against the table, your heart froze, and Jisung, who had been smiling at his own phone looked up at you. 
“Heh… That’s a coincidence. I just sent a message and your phone vibrated!” He said rather cheerfully, and the way he looked at you, it was like he was expecting you to check it. There was no way in hell you’d do that though. You awkwardly giggled, shoving your phone into your backpack as you shook your head. 
“Probably an email or something… It is… Ironic though…” You whispered, lowering your head even further into the textbook that you had opened. You felt his eyes linger on you though, like they were burning through you, and you didn’t know whether to feel flustered, nervous, or both those things and everything in between. “D-Do you need something? A pencil… Or-” 
“I know you…” He said matter-of-factly, and it was like your throat closed up and your chest tightened. How did he know you? What was he talking about? He couldn’t possibly know you. “You’re the top student… You’re like, mega smart! I can see why now… Do you always study this late?” 
Relief, a sigh of relief and a deep breath. You were safe… You shouldn’t overthink too much. “Mmn…” You nodded your head once but kept it bowed, trying to focus on the words in the textbook, but it was so hard. “Thank you…” You added, wondering if maybe that was what he was waiting for. 
He chuckled softly, and then you felt the table shake as he dropped his own backpack on the table and started pulling out a bunch of notebooks. “You make it seem so easy. How do you just… Concentrate? It’s so hard for me to do.” He whined, and you looked around as his voice got higher and higher. “Oh… Sorry.” His voice dropped back down to a whisper and then he chuckled softly. 
His laugh was contagious and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him, your hand clasping over your mouth to try to muffle the noise. “It’s easy… You just have to find the fun in it.” He rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at you and you pursed your lips, trying not to laugh at his reaction. “Seriously. Here, let me show you.” 
It was supposed to be a solo study session, honestly, it was just to try to get away from your roommate long enough for her to fall asleep. You never in your wildest dreams expected this to happen. It was like a scene straight out of a k-drama, but you also knew that after these types of scenes, things got bad. But you didn’t want to think about that right now… All you could think about was the way that he laughed with you, the way he smiled at you, the way he talked to you like you were a person and not just the dirt beneath his shoes. 
“You remind me of someone.” He said nonchalantly as you both started packing up your books. You blinked a few times, your head tilting to the side as you waited for him to elaborate, but he was looking at his phone, his smile dropping slightly as he turned it off and slid it into his pocket. “Oh… It’s nothing. She must have just fallen asleep. She’s always so tired. She studies a lot… Kind of like you. Maybe you can tutor me… I’ll bring her too! That would be cool, right?” Cool… Not at all. It was the complete opposite of cool. That… That would never work.
“M-Maybe… I don’t know… I tutor a couple other people.” You came up with the lie quickly, and you hated the way his smile almost completely disappeared. Maybe you could make an exception… It’s not like he’d find out… Right? Jooyi would just have to act interested in studying. You were sure that if you told her, she’d be on board… “I’ll… I’ll see if I can schedule you in.” 
And just like that, his smile was back and he was pulling his phone out again. “Awesome! Uhm, how about we exchange phone numbers and…” He trailed off when he saw the look on your face, and you were sure that you looked quite uneasy. There was no way that would go over well with Jooyi, she’d flip shit. “How about Anonny… You know the app, right? Everyone has it!” Oh shit… That was even worse. 
“How about… We leave it up to fate.” His eyebrow arched, and you were really going out on a limb here with the excuses, but you had to protect yourself… Not just from him, but from Jooyi too. You didn’t have much to lose… But it was enough to have you terrified. “If we both manage to come to the library at the same time, if you see me here, I’ll tutor you. I usually come at night though… Just so you know.” 
You bowed your head to him as you got up, putting on your backpack and heading out, and you could hear him following behind you. “I’ll be here. Every night. I’ll study on my own too… Thank you, for helping me.” You hummed in response, pushing open the main door and you were met with a rather brisk gust of wind that had you shivering and shoving your hands into your pockets. “Are you cold? Here…” He shimmied out of his top coat, placing it over your shoulders and smiling when he saw it on you. “You can return it to me next time fate brings us together, okay? Just stay warm, and get home safe.” 
For fucks sake… 
///
JiHizzy : Hey, whatcha up to?
JiHizzy : It’s been like… 3 hours… Are you mad or something? 
JiHizzy : You must be sleeping… I just feel like somethings wrong… 
JiHizzy : Let me know when you get this message… Okay?
Your roommate was fast asleep when you finally got in, and you quickly took off Jisungs coat and slid it under your bed, safe for now at least from the prying eyes of Jooyi. As you curled up under your blankets, ready to just fall asleep, ready to let yourself drift off into a world where you didn’t have to pretend and you didn’t have to lie to the man who had sat across from you in the library when there were so many tables to choose from. The man who smiled at you and made you feel like you were the only person in the room. Then your phone vibrated once more from under your pillow. 
JiHizzy : I was studying tonight… I know how important it is to you and… I wanted to do it. JiHizzy : I met someone there, she reminded me of you a lot! 
JiHizzy : I hope these aren’t waking you up… I know you’re sleeping. 
JustAnotherGirl : I was at the library too. We must have just missed each other…
JiHizzy : NO WAY! Dammit! Well… 
JiHizzy : I was thinking that we can do study dates. Wouldn’t that be cool? 
JustAnotherGirl : It would. I really like that idea. 
JiHizzy : Awesome! Okay! 
JiHizzy : Goodnight cutie! 
Study dates… That’s how you had looked at tonight, or you were just delusional. If tonight had happened sooner… Would you have taken Jooyi up on her deal? He seemed to be just fine with you… He wasn’t embarrassed, he wasn’t ashamed to be sitting across from you and laughing with you… Would he have liked you still if he knew who you really were? 
///
“So, how was your night last night? You got home safe?” Jisung asked and you heard Jooyi giggle loudly, it was so fake, it made you sick. He was such a genuine person, and she was nothing but a stuck up little- 
“My night was wonderful! I went shopping for our date this weekend. I can’t wait for you to see the outfits I picked out!” You sank down onto the bench. Shit… You hadn’t told her… What would happen now? 
“Sh-Shopping?” He questioned, and you wanted to crawl under a rock. You wanted to hide from her and the wrath that you knew was bound to be coming your way. “I thought you were studying? You said… You said you were at the library…” 
She went silent, and even though you were outside, you could feel the tension in the air. “Did… Did I say shopping?! Oh my gosh, I meant studying! I’m a big nerd! You know me!” She laughed again, but this time there was something else… Nervousness? Irritation? Anger? She’d be looking for you. 
“You’re acting weird… Are you okay?” He asked, and she scoffed loudly. Should you spare a glance and risk meeting eyes with her? “Were you just… Lying about studying? Was it to try to… Impress me? You know you don’t have to do that.” 
“I know I don’t. I’m impressive enough!” She said loudly, it’s like she enjoyed making scenes. She was disgusting. “I have to go really quick, I forgot my big ol’ textbook back at my room. I’ll meet up with you later? We can have lunch!” 
“Y-Yeah… Sure…” Something had changed… He wasn’t buying it anymore. But you didn’t have time to worry about that. Jooyi was looking for you, and you were tired of being scared of her. You were tired of worrying about what she’d do or what she’d say about you. Jisung liked you, even if just as a friend… You had been made clear of that last night at the library. She couldn’t even make it one day… The two of you were just too different, and he had noticed. You weren’t sure what would happen next, but you weren’t going to hide away, you weren’t going to give in. You deserved to be happy… You might not have the money, you don’t have the luxuries, but you have the willpower, and you have the drive… And that was worth way more than what her money could ever buy. 
“I need to talk to you… Now.” As if like magic, she appeared in front of you. She was angry, no doubt, but there was nothing she could do to hurt you. So you got up, following her off to the side of one of the buildings, and before you could say anything the palm of her hand connected with your cheek. “You bitch! You said that you’d tell me when he messaged you! Was this your plan?! To humiliate me in front of him!” 
Now it was your turn to scoff, your turn to laugh, and while the sting in your cheek hurt, it didn’t hurt as much as knowing that you almost let him get away, you almost let him get stuck with someone like her. “I didn’t have to plan it for it to work out like this. You humiliated yourself. He isn’t your type… Deal with it.” 
“You…” She started, but it quickly turned to a scream, one filled with pure rage as she started grabbing at the pockets of your jacket. “Give me your phone! He doesn’t want you! He wants me! You’re nothing! You’re poor and you’re pathetic and you’ll never have him! Why would anyone want you!” She just… screamed… She screamed so loud, and with every attempt to grab at you, you swatted her hands away, backing up further and further until you bumped into something… or… someone. “Oh! Jisung!” She full stopped, adjusting her hair and putting on the fakest smile. 
“What are you doing?” He asked, looking between you and Jooyi. “What are you talking about?” His eyes focused on you a lot longer, as if studying you, and you felt the heat of his gaze, but it didn’t burn, it just made you feel warm, it made you feel safe. “Why do you want her phone?” 
Jooyi was stuttering over herself, unable to form a coherent sentence as her head shook violently. “She… Sh-She’s blackmailing me, Ji! She stole my username on Anonny… She’s pretending to be me so that she can get with you… So she can take you away from me!” She whined, and you couldn’t help but look disgustedly at her. She truly was the queen of scenes, stomping her feet and throwing a tantrum like a child would. How pathetic. 
“My… tutor… Is blackmailing… You?” He questioned, and her eyes widened before turning her daggers towards you. “What’s your name on Anonny? If she stole it from you… What is it?” You didn’t have to do anything, he was putting all of the pieces together for himself. You weren’t sure what would happen once the puzzle finally came together… And maybe it wouldn’t work out for you… But to see her get knocked down to size, it made it all worth it. 
“I-It… My Anonny name? You know it! You tell me what it is!” She said, and you knew why, she was trying to get him to say it… But he was smarter than that. He shook his head, letting out a disappointed chuckle, and then his attention was back on you. “Don’t! Don’t look at her! Look at me! You love me!” 
“Do I?” He whispered, but he never looked away from you, his head tilted and a small smile on his face. “What’s your Anonny username?” He asked, and you felt the heat rising inside of you. This was your chance, your moment, you didn’t know where it would lead you to, but it was time. 
“I’m… JustAnotherGirl… Just another girl that has a crush on you… That gets overlooked and forgotten. But I’m here… And I’ve been here for four months…” You murmured, and he let out a shaky gasp. Was he embarrassed? Was he ashamed that you were the girl he had been talking to for so long? “I’m sorry. I’m not popular, I’m not even close to rich. I don’t have much to give… But-” 
“But you’re perfect…” He stepped closer to you, causing you to stumble back as your breath hitched in your throat. “You’re smart, and you’re sweet… You’re kind and you’re genuine. You’re not materialistic, you’re just… You’re wonderful, you’re wonderfully you…” His hand reached up, his knuckles brushing lightly against your cheek. “You’re the girl that I fell in love with…” 
“WHAT!!?” Jooyi screeched from behind you, and before you knew it, you and Jisung were being pushed apart. “Are you serious right now?! Her?! She’s… She’s a roach! She’s vermin! I can’t believe you right now! Have you seen me?!” 
“Sadly.” Jisung retorted, and it took everything in you not to laugh, but everyone that had gathered around to see what was going on laughed enough for you. “I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t talk about my girlfriend like that.” 
“G-Girlfriend?!” Jooyi scoffed, running her hands through her hair. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Just… When you lose all your friends because you’re with a loser, don’t come crawling back to me! Have fun being not popular!” 
“I think it’s time for us to go, don’t you?” He asked, completely ignoring her now as he draped his arm over your shoulder. “You want lunch? Anything you want, it’s on me.” 
///
HanJi : I’ll be at the library soon. I’ve got hot cocoa!
Beautiful Wonderful Girlfriend : Don’t drive too fast, the snow is really coming down now… 
“I know it is…” His voice came from behind you, and then the cups of hot cocoa were placed in front of you on the table. “It’s really pretty, isn’t it?” You glanced out the window, awestruck at just how beautiful campus could look when blanketed in dazzling white snow. “You brought your coat, right?” 
You nodded your head, patting the chair beside you where the coat that he had given you almost 2 years ago was neatly hanging over the back of the seat. “It’s your coat… You just won’t let me give it back.” You teased, and he let out a soft sigh as he dropped down into his seat. He hadn’t changed a bit since the first time you both sat at this table together. 
It was strange how time worked, it felt like forever ago, but you remembered it like it had happened just yesterday. “It’s our coat, babe. What’s mine is yours.” He sounded so serious, but you couldn’t help but laugh at the statement. He was talking like the two of you were… Married? Your laughter subsided as you stared at him across the table, your lips parted slightly as you let out a quiet breath. 
“You’re funny…” You said sheepishly, turning your attention back out the window, focusing on the snowflakes that danced down from the sky, finding the perfect place to rest. “We’re not married, our things don’t have to be shared…” Even though you both had been together for two years and he was the sweetest, most loving boyfriend you had ever had… You still couldn’t get those words out of your head. The words from the past that had been uttered by the girl that had wanted to take your place… He would never want to be with someone like you…
“Yet…” He murmured, the word like a breath leaving his lips. You blinked a few times, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks, your heart thumping loudly in your chest. Did he really love you that much? Could someone really love you that much? Were you deserving of this much love, to be with someone like him? “What are you thinking about, babe?” He cooed, reaching across the table to grab your hands that were folded on top, his thumb brushing lightly across your knuckles. 
“I’m just…” You began, feeling the familiar sting of fresh tears beginning to brim in your eyes, but it was slightly different this time… They weren’t tears of sadness or fear… You were happy. “I’m so lucky… And… I never thought I’d be with someone so amazing… So perfect…” You could barely get your voice above a whisper, your throat closing up from trying to hold back your tears. 
“Mm…” He hummed, pushing away from the table and getting up, walking around to your side of the table and grabbing your hand. “Let’s take a walk… yeah?” One more glance out the window and you saw the snow creating almost a wall of white as it came down harder, but there was no wind, it was just… beautiful. “I’ll keep you warm, don’t worry.” 
You nodded your head, grabbing the coat and slipping it on, the scent of his cologne, although faded, still brought you comfort when you put it on. “Where are we going?” You quizzed, slipping your fingers between his as you both walked out of the library. You were sure that nothing would be open, not with this weather. 
“Anywhere… I just… I want to walk with you.” He said, his voice kind of shaky, like his nerves had gotten the better of him. He led you aimlessly through campus, and you followed right along beside him. You didn’t really care where you were going, as long as you were with him, you’d follow the path he was taking blindly with your hand in his. “I’ve been thinking a lot about how I’ll do it…” 
Was he talking to you or was he just thinking out loud? You looked to him, the snowflakes catching on your eyelashes as you tried to read him, but he was looking straight forward, his lips turned up into a lopsided smile. “How you’ll do what?” Even though you were speaking softly, the silence that surrounded you made every word sound so loud. 
“Propose.” He sounded so calm, but the singular word alone had you pausing, pulling him back so he would face you. “What? Can I not think about how I’m going to propose to my wonderful, beautiful, amazing, sweet, lovely-“ 
“Okay okay!” Even after 2 years, you still weren’t the best at taking compliments, especially when he was looking at you so intently. “Why are you thinking about that right now? We’re still in college and… I want you to focus on graduating. So we can both be successful. You know?” 
His hand slipped out of yours and then his arm snaked around your waist as he started walking again, pulling you along with him. “I can focus on graduating, and I can focus on you. I’ve been doing it since the day I truly met you… the real you.” He chuckled quietly, the sound building in his chest as his head shook. It was funny now, to look back on everything that happened. “And I like thinking about the future, it makes me happy to know that I’ll be spending it with you. But you don’t have to worry about me proposing in college… I wouldn’t want everyone to see. I want it to be a moment for us to remember.” You hummed softly, leaning against his shoulder as you simply listened to him, you let him get lost in his thoughts because you didn’t mind getting lost in them either. They had you looking forward to a better, simpler time where the two of you would be able to be together without worrying about grades and finals. “Flower petals will line the path that I’ll take you down…” He murmured, and your eyes were focused on his face, not noticing the trail of pink and red in the snow. “A gazebo, with fairy lights twinkling brightly, shining in your eyes…” He continued, sighing softly. “Nobody is around, the snow is falling, you look absolutely stunning against the backdrop…” 
“A winter proposal?” You asked, and you were so lost in his thoughts and your own that you hadn’t even noticed how far you had walked until he was leading you up the stairs of a white wooden gazebo, perfect icicles hanging off the roof of it, and… fairy lights illuminated the inside. “Ji…” You whispered his name, a tuft of smoke coming from your mouth as you breathed it out. His arm left your waist and he kneeled down in front of you, his cheeks a dark pink from both the cold and his nerves. “You said… You said you wouldn’t propose when we were still in college…” 
He snickered, fishing a black velvet box out of his pocket, his snow dampened hair curtaining his eyes as he kept his head down. “I meant… not while we were in the college. We’re not on the grounds anymore…” He finally looked up at you, and you let out a shaky gasp as it truly set in what he was doing. “I don’t want to wait any longer, I know that you’re the one that I want to spend all of my life with. I’ve never felt more comfortable with anyone else. I love you, I’ve known that I loved you since before I even… before I even knew you. I wake up every morning and thank everything that you’re mine, and I fall asleep every night knowing that no matter what, everything will be okay because I have you by my side. I don’t care what anyone thinks, I don’t care what people might say… I only care that you’re happy… And if you say yes, I promise… To do my best to make you feel happy and loved every single day until the day that I die.” He opened the box, and the diamond facets of the silver ring glistened and reflected the lights that had been strung up. “So… Will you… Will you marry me?” 
You choked out a sob, dropping to your knees in front of him as you nodded your head yes, and he quickly pulled the ring out of the box, his hand shaking as he slid it onto your finger. “Ji…” Was all you could say as you looked at the ring, cold, yet so beautiful in its place. His chilled hands cupped your cheeks, tilting your head so that your eyes would meet his. “I love you…” 
“And I’ll always love you.” He leaned in, kissing you softly and humming against your lips. “Shall we go back inside and warm up, my beautiful, lovely, wonderful, amazing-“ 
“Stop~” You playfully whined, giggling quietly as you dropped your gaze once more. “You’re so cheesy…” You mumbled, and then you felt his lips against your forehead, his fingers brushing your hair out of your face. 
“And you’re… You’re everything to me…” He pushed himself up to his feet, carefully pulling you up and then hugging you tightly. “Thank you, for making me happy, for loving me… I can’t wait to marry you."
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angelltheninth · 10 months
Text
Spiderverse Characters When You get Hurt
Pairing: Peter B. Parker, Miles Morales, Gwen Stacy, Miguel O'Hara, Hobie Brown, Pavitr Prabhnakar x Reader
Tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, late night visits, hospitals, injury, sneaking in, flowers, soothing kisses, anger, self-blame
A/N: I wouldn't be me if I didn't put as much angst in here as I did fluff.
Peter brings you flowers, a lot of them, so many that the hospital staff thinks you died in the meantime. He's slumped over in the chair, worried eyes taking in the bandadged spots, the stitches and he can't help but feel like he should have saved you sooner. He doesn't even know you that well, you're a new reporter but you were there with him, for him, for Spider-man. Now he needs to make sure he makes up for this when you get out.
Miles gives it his best to not freak out as he cleans the cuts on your hands. You shouldn't have grabbed the railing like that, you could have gotten an infection. It might be mild compared to some injuries he gets, still he doesn't want to see them on the person he loves. It goes the same for you but its... not as easy. He can't promise you won't ever get hurt if you're with him but he can promise to give it his all to protect you. And with your smile being his ultimate reward he will work even harder.
Gwen nearly has a heart attack when she sees the state you're in when she rushes to your place. Secret identity be damned cause she's in your room, in full costume, scolding you, then crying then kissing you so desperately like its gonna be your last ever kiss. If someone comes in right now and sees her kissing you her secret would be out. She can't think about that now, all she needs is to make sure you're safe.
Miguel is beside himself with guilt that this happened to you on his watch. You can see his eyes, red from both tears and anger,roaming your body along with his hands as he takes notes of every pained sound you make. This is gonna take a while to heal up without a healing factor but he won't let you tell him that he's acting too worried or being too dotting. You act like this when he's hurt, so its only right.
Hobie doesn't get a wink of sleep when he caries you home up until morning when you open your eyes. He's trying to stay positive and maybe even crack a joke like he does to soothe you when he's injured but all he wants is to do is to cuddle up to you, to pull you on top of his chest and listen to your breathing and your heartbeat. Once you get better he will go out and throw both words and fists at the person who put you in this state but until then he is all yours.
Pavitr can't stop the tears from running down his face as he slowly kisses your hands and then your cheek. He was so scared he was gonna loose you. Now you're hospitalized and... he can sneak in if he really wants to, and he will but he would love to be able to give you every second of his day. Since he can't do that he will bring you a get well soon gift every day, and kiss you every day too, it will make you heal up faster. Okay no it won't but it will make you feel better and happier.
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barcalover86 · 4 months
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Surgery- Gavi
Summary: showering after surgery
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You and Gavi have been together for 1 year now, but mostly of it was long distance.
Every since the moment he got injured, you stood by his side, spending most of your time together.
When his surgery successfully ended, he got home, being in a need of showering.
The doctor explained to him what he has to do, but he needed at least one person beside him to help him out a bit.
Since he was kinda ashamed to be naked in front of his parents because he wasn't a kid anymore, and his sister was out of discussion, he asked for your help.
You agreed to help him, but God knew how nervous you were.
You were afraid not to hurt him or do anything wrong, especially since you have no idea what you'll have to do.
And out of these thoughts, you two never, ever saw each other naked before.
Being a lot away from each other, you didn't have time for that kind of thing.
So you were a bit.. shy.
He, on the other hand, was more nervous than you.
First time being naked in front of his girlfriend.
He wasn't scared that you'd make fun of him because of his body cause he knew that you weren't the type of person to do that. He was just afraid that you won't like it.
You helped him go to the biggest bathroom so that you could have more space.
You put two chairs, because he had to sit all the time, and prepared the water.
He looks up into your eyes before putting his head on your shoulder.
Your hands went around his torso, trying to comfort the boy.
"It won't hurt, Gavi. I'll make sure that everything will be ok and you'll see that after you'll feel better."
He smiled and kissed your cheek before taking his shirt off.
Now, you didn't want to make him feel even more uncomfortable than he already was, so you tried not to show any facial expressions.
Only you knew how fast your heart was beating at that moment.
You helped him take off his shorts while he was looking into your eyes scared.
You tried to fasten the process of getting off his chlotes so that it wouldn't be that awkward, but you accidentally hurt his knee.
"Oh, I'm sorry, cariño."
He looked like he was about to cry.
"Why are you such in a hurry, y/n?"
You were surprised by his question.
You didn't know how and what to reply. He took all your words out of your head.
He sighed, looking down. You didn't know what to do. How could you tell him that you were so scared of this moment?
His injury didn't only hurt him, but everyone around him. At the same time, you knew that you had to take responsibility and be there for him. So you slowly got his chlotes off of him, while not saying any other words.
Everything was silent.
You tried not to look at him, but.. it was so, so hard. He was the most precious thing that you had ever seen.
Once again, you turned around, trying to find something that could occupy you.
He was just staying there, on a chair, naked, behind you, waiting peacefully for you.
You suddenly blushed. Man.. he was really yours. And God, he was sooo beautiful.
Pablo was looking at you when you turned to face him. His eyes were so lost.
You smiled at him.
"C'mon, pretty boy, let's shower you."
He smiled at the nickname you used.
Pretty boy.
Once you put him in the bathtub, you started the water.
He then took your hand in his while putting his head on your shoulder.
While you were helping him clean, he looked so concerned, and when you asked him about it, his answer surprised you.
"Do you think I will be able to play football again?"
"Yes, of course, you will!"
He sighed.
"I mean at that level."
You then looked into his eyes.
"You are so talented. You work hard for whatever you want, and this won't be different. It might be a bit difficult, but you are not alone."
He listened carefully and nodded.
"I won't disappoint you, y/n."
"I know you won't," you said while kissing his forehead.
After he was done showering, you helped him stand up.
You didn't know how to put the bandage back on, so you stared a bit too much at his naked body, and he started to get really shy.
When you wanted to ask him how this goes back on his knee, you saw his uncomfortable face.
"What's wrong?"
His face got suddenly red. The boy was embarrassed.
"Does it hurt?"
"To see you stare so focus, yes."
"What-" but then you realised. You've been staring at his body for a while now.
"Oh, no, no, don't think that."
Pablo got really emotional, by your surprise , tearing up.
"Don't cryy".
You hugged him.
"You are so beautiful, Pablo. Don't ever doubt that."
You then kissed his lips slowly, and he smiled, wanting more. You laughed a bit.
"Let's get you change ok?"
After you got to his room and helped him to the bed, you went to the bathroom to make him a snack. When you came back, he was desperate for your touch.
"I hope you'll like it," you said, putting the food next to him while he was hugging you.
He then kissed your lips, thanking you.
After he ate, he was about to fall asleep when an idea came into his mind.
"Do you want to shower with me in the morning? Together. "
You were so unready for his question.
It was awkward to see him naked in front of you, but it would be even more embarrassing for you to be naked in front of him.
"Hm?" he asked once again.
"Ok.."
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