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#they really wanted joong
thewonandonly · 2 years
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12:45 — i'm sure that we could find something for you to do on stage, maybe shake a tambourine or when i sing, you sing harmonies | twin size mattress by the front bottoms
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you were invited to watch your boyfriend and his group practice their dance for youtube, which they'll then post. luckily enough, he reassured you that the camera is angled only towards them and behind the camera would not be visible.
and you felt secure back there. it was obvious sitting in the back of the room was a safe space for both you and the staff.
and as soon as it finished, you ran off to hug your sweaty boyfriend, who used the skull decorated cane to hold himself up. he chuckled softly to himself, holding you close to his chest, wiping the sweat with the back of his hand.
"you know," he whispered softly in your ear, "i could get used to this." he smiled to himself, "how would you feel if i tried to get you a job in our management?"
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copyright © 2022 the-wonandonly. all rights reserved.
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airenyah · 5 days
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manifesting: dunk lifts joong in their next bl 🙏
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mooninagust · 10 months
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hidden agenda ✑ ep. 2
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itachanta · 1 year
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"I was not lying to you"
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ctl-yuejie · 10 months
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you remembered, quite observant |hidden agenda ep. 1
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o-daintyduck · 1 year
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Idc this was a pretty happy ending. As happy as it could get, considering we spent the middle 14 episodes mourning the loss of a life that Hyun-woo could've had had he not been born dirt poor. It was really fitting for them to set up the exact same time for Do-jun and Hyun-woo to fight for the throne and respect, respectively. 17, almost 18 years. Maybe it's bc I haven't read the web novel but whether the story be a simple loopy one or magic realist; it doesn't really negate the previous 14 episodes. I remember I'd told my friend that I felt this was the case of an unreliable narrator, somewhere around episode 4 lol. Why did HW read up everything he could get on Jin Yang-cheol? He was too busy running around working triple shifts, worrying about his family in rampant poverty during his teens and early twenties to know the intricacies of stock market, economy, Seo Taiji's comeback, everything related to everyone and their mother!? Mason's books are sitting somewhere in his backroom probably all dog-eared right now as we speak. He followed the numbers, facts, remembered each fight along with the contemporaneous event in history. That's why he kept winning. I'm attributing the non-romance situation with Min-young to him not knowing the goings-on in their private lives.
Min-young flashbacking to her and Do-jun's initial days kind of confirmed to me that it was both Hyun-woo's outstanding guilt as well as comatose- time travel to blame for this series. "Repentance" once an unreliable narrator, always an unreliable narrator.
lol where was I going, this show was beautifully acted, enjoyable and masterfully played onscreen. That's the thing about transformative stories, they have something for everyone. The only bittersweet thing about the finale is that it's ended :(
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thescrumptiousstuffs · 10 months
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So…..Zo is definitely the most oblivious dude ever 🫣🤫
Joke finding excuse to join the debate club just so he could be with his crush, daydream about kissing him, tries to feed him, serenade him a love song, catches him when he trips on his own foot (TWICE!!!) and ties his shoes 👠 Cinderella-style
(I love how Joke made it clear from the start who he is pursuing…now if only Zo gets a clue!)
Hidden Agenda, episode 2
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Episode 10 ripped my soul apart. MAJOR TRIGGERS for this episode: r*pe, self-harm, s*xual assault, s**cide. This is an incredibly difficult episode to watch so please please do not watch this if it triggers you. If you chose to watch it, clear space in your schedule and arm yourself with a truckload of tissues because it will wreck you.
This episode captures the manifestation of the biggest fear that women carry with them with every breath they take. The horror and the anguish I felt watching it unfold before my eyes can not be described. Seeing how that horrific incident traumatized Yun Hui and tormented her in her life afterwards ripped my heart out of my chest and stomped on it. 
You will never change my mind that the blame for s*xual assault solely lies in the hands of the perpetrator. Ever. It is only their fault and will only ever be their fault. There is ABSOLUTELY NO FUCKING JUSTIFICATION for their actions. None whatsoever. These are unquestionable facts in my mind. 
IT IS NOT THE VICTIM’S FAULT. IT IS NOT THE VICTIM’S FAULT. IT IS NOT THE VICTIM’S FAULT.
If you have ever been in this situation, please do not blame yourself. It is not your fault. Thank you for enduring it and surviving. Thank you for continuing to live.
There has to be a societal shift in how these types of crimes are perceived and prosecuted. It is a taboo topic in which so many victims are pressured into saying nothing and the perpetrators face no consequences. Not only was this case absolutely heartbreaking but also was the knowledge that she was one of the fortunate ones- she lived and her assaulter got convicted. So many people (women especially) lose their lives or have to carry this pain with them for the rest of their lives while the people who caused the pain walk free and unburdened. Only a fraction of these crimes get reported and only a fraction of those get convicted and only a fraction of those face a serious sentence. It is an inadequate punishment. Perpetrators should be held accountable and the behaviors and cultural norms that lead perpetrators (majority men) to think this is okay should be abolished and rewritten. S*xual assault is not a slap on the wrist, the people who commit those crimes did not simply "make a mistake" and cannot be "fixed"- they are monsters and should be labeled as such. They are entirely at fault for the crimes they commit and the trauma they cause.
Ryeon put it perfectly: S*xual assault is a murder on the soul.
Furthermore, no one should have the audacity to victim-shame or victim-blame those who suffer these atrocities. People have no right to gaslight others into thinking that this traumatic thing they have suffered is in any way their fault or that they are exaggerating. I think the absolute fuck not.
If this difficult episode causes at least one person to stop in their tracks and give an ounce more of compassion for people who have survived these situations, it will be progress. If this episode causes people to nip problematic behavior in the bud, it will be an improvement. Incremental change but it is a start.
This episode also made the gross sexualization of women incredibly apparent. The blame was immediately shifted on the women with every single remark being "you shouldn't have XXX".. worn those clothes, been out late, walked there, acted like that, looked at him, breathed etc. It was ABSOLUTELY SICKENING. Women should not be punished and assaulted and traumatized for existing. There is an overwhelming amount of real-life evidence that proves that women can do everything right and still get r*ped, still get assaulted, still die. It is the perpetrator who couldn't keep their hands to themselves.
All of the members of the public INCLUDING HER OWN PARENTS who placed the blame at Yun Hui's feet should suffer a terrible terrible terrible death. You show kindness or comfort or you shut up before I load you in a cannon and launch you into an asteroid. All of the people who were so goddamn lenient with the piece of shit man because of his background and his current lifestyle, who valued the quality of life of the abuser over the quality of life of the victim need to take a good long look at their brain. How do they live with themselves? That defense prosecutor deserves a one-way ticket to extended eternal torture. Fuck him especially. 
I watched with glee as Ryung Gu punched the daylights out of the piece of shit abuser. I clapped as Ryeon drove her high heel into his crotch. Honestly think they could have delivered more damage to that area because he needed to feel more pain. I enjoy when the Grim Reapers are all unified in their perspective of a given issue like honoring the veteran in Episode 6. So the epilogue was great because it showed that Joong Gil shared the same perspective of delivering justice to this monster. I love that he slightly broke his own rules by arriving before the monster officially died and changing how he died to make it as painful as possible. He said s*xual assaulters should be engulfed in the flames of hell limb by limb and he delivered. Much appreciated. 
I am grateful that Ryeon was able to connect with Yun Hui through their shared experience. I am so glad that Yun Hui received understanding and support from someone who had also used pain as a way to escape fear and guilt and loneliness. You did it because you didn't have anything left in this world that you care about. You are the victim. Not the perpetrator. He is the one who hurt you unilaterally. No one can or should blame you. Even if its yourself. When Ryeon reassured Yun Hui that her scars were not ugly at all but proof of how desperately she wanted to live, I sobbed. Watching her collapse into the hug that Ryeon gave her, it was comfort she desperately needed- supportive comfort. You could tell how emotional of an experience it was for Ryeon as well as she too was shaking.
Yun Jae's side of the case comes from the guilt of not preventing s*xual assault. Of not being in the right place at the right time to save those you love from being traumatized. Horrible words were thrown between the twins but I am glad that they were able to reconcile because they cared about each other more than anyone else. I am relieved that he recognized that the way he could support his sister the most was being by her side.
I am over the moon that Ryeon was able to get legal justice for Yun Hui through her kickass work as a prosecutor. QUEEN. 
Episode 10 marks a turning point of getting more indepth with regards to the Grim Reaper’s individual backgrounds. This episode really focused on Ryung Gu as he had the most personal and direct ties with the theme of this case. Learning that the woman he was sobbing while observing from the other side of the street was in fact his mom felt like an elephant decided to take up permanent residence on top of my chest. His mom’s specific cause of death and how he was a young child when he found her hurt. No child should lose their mother and especially not like that. The amount of suffering she must have endured before she made her choice I cannot even begin to fathom. Seeing their close bond in the flashback and how they were each other’s most cherished person made me sob knowing how it ended. He has spent his entire time in Jumadeung waiting for his mom’s reincarnation and trying to find her, forever without her motherly love and affection, only able to watch an identical copy of his mom live out the rest of her life happily and not being able to reach out because she does not remember him. I hope that resolving his regret involves being able to hug his mom again and feel her love and affection for him (that I am sure she carries with her even if she cannot remember him specifically). Ryung Gu desperately needs a hug. 
Through Yun Hui, we finally learn how Ryeon died and it was similarly heartbreaking. Her feelings as described to Yun Hui were what really caused your heart to break for her. You did it because you didn't have anything left in this world that you care about. You find yourself lingering, realizing the regret behind the pain. I thought everything was my fault. Because I felt guilty for even being alive. Ever since that day, I've been constantly living in regret for a very very long time. Every single line tore at my soul. To learn that she thought everything was her fault and that she felt guilty for even being alive made me cry. The indirect realization that she has been carrying this guilt and regret and self-hatred for hundreds of years made everything hurt more. 
My understanding of Ryeon and Joong Gil’s shared past recalibrated and simultaneously got more tear-jerking. Under Joong Gil’s stone cold facade is a loyal lover and someone who loves and protects fiercely. The way he deflected the sword pointed at Ryeon’s face by literally throwing his sword to intercept it. The tender manner in which Ryeon’s body was cradled by Joong Gil. The agony I am sure was on his face as he cradled her back and forth. The mutual love that they had when they were children never left. So I know that I will need a mountain of tissues when we learn why she was driven to think that she had nothing left in the world that she cared about and felt guilty for even being alive. She was actually the one to die first and that is what landed her in Hell. Because she didn’t want to leave (and wouldn’t let the Director help her get out), that is why she began working at Jumadeung later than Joong Gil. Her biggest regret is taking her life and she now tries to protect people from experiencing the hell and lingering regrets she experienced. His biggest regret is most likely failing to save her. His stance on s**cide is linked to this (even if he cannot remember it) because he subconsciously knows first hand the pain of being left behind by those who make that choice. I think he was hurt by her transfer over to the Risk Department Team because he felt like he was being left behind again. I don’t think she is afraid of him but afraid of him remembering that she was the woman he loved and she killed herself and left him behind. She is afraid of bridging the gap because she feels so guilty for making that choice and leaving him behind. Being even closer to him would be being even closer to those emotions that surrounded the end of her life. I don’t doubt he will be angry when he gets all of his memories back but I honestly think he will have to pause to consider all of these new memories that he has with her in Jumadeung. He has had the woman he loved (loves) by his side for over two hundred years.They are now reunited and she will never leave him behind again (especially if he invokes the Grim Reaper contract in this regard). They yearn for each other so much without even realizing it. She was not Kim Hun at all but Kong. She was who made Joong Gil the happiest in the world and once his memories come back in their entirety that is what will stand out. I need him to learn how difficult it was for her to leave him behind in the first place. I need her to look back and see that Joong Gil never stopped loving her even after she passed. I pray that she forgives herself for the choice she made when she was at the end of her rope and hopeless. 
My feeling that there is a child at the heart of this only grows because, in most cases, the person a woman loves more fiercely than her partner is her child. What could have possibly happened is that some type of altercation happened that resulted in their child being killed and Ryeon thinking that it is all her fault and feeling guilty for surviving when her child didn’t. Joong Gil most likely was not with them during that time and they could have been been separated for long periods of time because of his job as a soldier, leading her to spiral in her own thoughts as well as not feeling and/or believing in any support and comfort Joong Gil tried to provide when he returned. She could have even blamed him for his absence and thought that she didn’t have anything left in the world that she cared about. Since the pain of losing her child was too sharp and raw, she could have not noticed that Joong Gil never stopped loving her. The scene that was shown in Episode 9 could have been her attacking him upset that he was not there at the crucial moment she needed him. Similar to this episode in that he was not in the right place at the right time to save her from being traumatized and their child being killed. With hindsight, the words she offered Woo Jin in the hospital of empty platitudes from people who will never know the specific pain of losing a loved one, may actually come from the perspective of losing a child and not losing a husband. 
It would be sweet if the soul of their lost child lives in Jun Woong. At the same time, I do not want the main characters’ dynamic to change even if it doesn’t. They don’t need to be tied together in a past life in order to grow closer to one another. It can be through the process of osmosis that Jun Woong reacts similarly to Ryeon or Joong Gil or Ryung Gu depending on the situation. That everyone’s habits and tendencies rub off on one another. That can speak to the strength of their bond and the value of the found family they were able to find and grow while working at Jumadeung. 
One of the things that slightly rubbed me wrong this episode was the processing of emotions (especially for the men). Ryung Gu isolating himself to process the resurgence of emotions relating to the theme of this case and when Jun Woong wants to go after him, Ryeon saying “he is an adult, he can handle his own emotions”. When the most touchy-feely half-Grim Reaper there ever was only yells at Yun Jae to get a grip and does not even comfort him considering he was also considering s**cide. People shouldn’t hold themselves back from feeling all of their feelings. It is okay to feel. It is okay to get emotional. It is okay to need a comforting hug regardless of gender! You do not have to isolate yourself! Being an adult does not come with a requirement to hold all of your pain inside of you as you process your feelings alone. That is not “maturity”. IT IS OKAY TO LEAN ON THOSE AROUND YOU. You don’t have to do this alone. 
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fukuwatchesbl · 1 year
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Finally finished watching Sky in your heart… I actually rewatched Star in your mind too. My opinion is that the last twist to force separation is dumb… in both parts of the series… but I find it even worse in sky in your heart
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ja3hwa · 3 months
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♡ 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐀 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐏𝐭.𝟏 | 𝐊.𝐇𝐉 ♡
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【Synopsis】 : He couldn't help but think such filth when you were innocently fast asleep only merely a couple of feet away from him.
『Word count』 :  1.12k
-> Genre: Pure smut. Little plot. DBF.
Pairing: Dilf!Hongjoong x Park!Reader [Hwa's Daughter]
[Warnings] : Slightly Noncon (Reader is asleep at first). Masturbation. Cum play. Thoughts and fantasies. Pet names. Sir kinkish. Hongjoong is nasty. Also, Joong is like in his late 30s and tatted while the reader is only 23. Whoops.
Note: No one asked for this, but for some reason, I was hooked on the thought of the Dad's best friend trope, and Hongjoong is really coming for my heart. So, It was a perfect match in my eyes.
Masterlist | Navigation | Buy Me A Ko-Fi
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You didn't know what came over yourself. It felt like the heating was turned up tenfold. Your nose scrunched as you began to move more and more in your sleep. Hongjoong couldn’t help but watch your discomfort in curiosity. Were you having a nightmare? No, you weren’t one to have them. But then again, maybe you just didn’t tell anyone. And being on a family trip in the middle of nowhere would cause distress.
Maybe I should wake her?… He thought, now sitting fully up on the pull-out couch bed. You were no longer tucked under the big fluffy covers on the single bed. No, you had thrown them off moments ago, revealing your mid-drift slightly from your short sleep top and the fact you weren't wearing any pants. God, you looked so cute in your black frilly panties…No, he couldn’t think of such a thing. Not when you were his best friend's daughter. 
But oh how you looked delicious. When he met Seonghwa, he had no clue he had a daughter, let alone one that was twenty-two. And when he agreed to go on this camping trip─more like staying in this large cabin on Seonghwa family’s land─he didn’t expect to see you tag along. You were stunning the moment he saw you hop out of your car. You were everything he would want in a woman and after spending hours of the day chatting and getting to know you he knew he was fucked. Anyone outside your conversations, like Seonghwa or his other friends and their kids, would see it as some harmless banter. But in reality, Hongjoong was shamelessly flirting. He didn’t mean it at first, but it just kept going, and you kept egging him on. So what was he supposed to do?
Since there were quite a lot of people that had come on the getaway, rooms were tight. And you had begged your father not to let you sleep in the rooms where the kids were cause you were certain one of San’s boys wanted more than innocent late-night chats… He ended up putting you in the same small study-turned-bedroom where there was a single bed and a double pull-out with Hongjoong. He originally offered to take the single, but you argued, saying his ‘old man back’ wouldn’t like it. He let you take it after that comment.
“J-joong…” you mumbled, almost inaudible. The older man's eyes snapped to your parted lips in a millisecond. Did you just say his name? No, he was definitely hearing things. “Joong, please.”
No, he definitely heard you that time. Your little panting, knitted brow, and soft moans. You weren’t having a nightmare. You were having a sex dream. And it was about him. God, did he wake up in another universe where everything went his way?! He ruffled his hair before rubbing his face in disbelief. He needed to hear you again, but as he took in your figure, he noticed you were now biting your lip, and your hips were jerking slowly. The pillow you were cuddling was tightly pressed up against your covered cunt in between your legs, and every little movement of your hips sent a shock of pleasure through your body.
You were humping your pillow at the thought of them while fast asleep.
He knew it was bad, but as his cock twitched for the millionth time he knew he needed to give himself some relief. And besides, you were sleeping, so you wouldn’t catch him only a couple of feet away from you, fucking his fists in time with your thrusts as your little moans carried out the nastiest fantasies his mind could conjure.... Right?
The thought of you laying out on his bed back at his penthouse. You're soaking on complete display as you beg him to hurry and touch you. He questions if you are a virgin, and if you were would you let him fuck you raw? Just the thought of slipping inside your tight virgin pussy while you tear up at his girth. He squeezed his cock tighter, staring at you intensely, he moved the sheets off himself, hissing slightly at the cool air hitting his hot angry tip. He needed more, he needed to hear his name spill from your mouth again. And it was as if the gods answered his prayers hearing you whimper, “P-please H-hongjoong.”
That was enough to tip him over the edge, speeding up his movements. He noticed the stutter in your hips. You were close to. He’d whisper to himself, “Let’s cum together baby. Cum all over my cock, fuuck.”
He wouldn’t be able to catch himself in time, splurting all over his hand, chest, and some dripping on his thigh. Fuck, he came so much. His eyes were shut, head leaning back against the backing of the couch. His heart was thumping in his ears so loudly he couldn’t even hear anything more. He was in complete ecstasy and peace. That was until he felt the bed dip, making his heart stop and eyes widen. “oh uh..I. um..” fuck, he was so fucked. You were sitting on the end of his bed, half asleep with the haziest expression while staring at his cock still tightly in his hand. His dick twitched, causing a groan, mostly from annoyance as he had been caught and he does even feel an ounce of guilt.
“D-did I cause t-that…” You said sweetly, so innocently. Could you get any more perfect?!
“I’m sorry angel, just go back to sleep, yeah…” He tucks himself back into his boxers, feeling his cum stick to the fabric which caused him to gag. He’s gonna have to slip out for a shower. But you didn’t budge as you took in his words. Instead, you pushed past any anxiety you had over the past days wondering whether Hongjoong liked you the same way, and moved closer to grab his hand that still had some of his cum on. You had woken up over five minutes ago before Hongjoong had creamed himself. His head was thrown back and he was in complete bliss and it caused you to cum just from the sight alone. “A-Angel…”
You didn’t let him speak another word as you placed two of his fingers in your mouth, swirling your tongue around them. Soaking them. And once they were wet enough, you pulled them out with an audible pop. Slowly, without breaking eye contact with the older male, you moved his hand down until those two wet fingers dipped into your completely ruined panties, letting him feel exactly how wet you were for him. They would slip so perfectly into your cunt causing you to sigh in relief, feeling so full just from his fingers alone. “Aren’t you gonna help me, sir.”
Hongjoong was done for.
—♡
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airenyah · 7 months
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i see everyone fill up the gmmtv 2024 bingo card and it's like. i don't really have any predictions and i also don't have enough things that i want in order to fill up the entire thing.
i really only have three four wishes for gmmtv 2024:
firstmix 12 ep main couple series
earth/fourth return as an uncle-nephew duo
joongdunk series, but better written and more serious/deeper/grittier/darker/sexier this time. bonus points for vampires
midnight museum s2 but make it canonically gay and also bring back nanon as The One (and KEEP him as The One!!!!)
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nateezfics · 24 days
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PRETTY PINK
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PAIRING — hongjoong x reader
GENRE — romance, smut, pwp, established relationship, boyfriend!hongjoong, softishdom!hongjoong, sub!reader, fem!reader, reader is so whiny cuz joong likes to tease :’))
WARNINGS — no plot just smut, unprotected sex//creampie, oral (f receiving), fingering, edging, overstimulation, squirting, pet names (joongie, baby, sweet girl, pretty girl, little girl), praise with degradation, some dacryphilia, lots of teasing, sexual language, intentional lowercase and small font, intentional word abbreviations, uhhh this isn’t really proofread oopsie
WORD COUNT — 2.1k
SUMMARY — you pulled at his pink hair to kiss him again. you exhaled. “i love you too, joongie.” and you really did. even if he enjoyed teasing you just a bit too much.
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you huffed and your lips puckered into a pout. you grabbed a handful of pink strands and tugged, hoping that maybe if you yanked just enough you’d finally get what you want. “joongie…”
there was a laugh. hot breath blew against your sensitive sex. you knew he wasn’t going to budge. “such a pouty baby,” hongjoong teased and if you weren’t so desperate to cum, you would’ve squeezed his head off with your thighs. you didn’t bother to lift your head to look, his tone was enough to tell you that he was enjoying this; enjoying your torture. “joongie, joongie, joongie. is that all you know how to say?”
he was mocking you. your face was hot in both embarrassment and frustration. you opened your mouth to speak but words died in your throat when he suckled your clit again. your eyes rolled, your hand that was holding his hair growing tighter. your orgasm was just within reach. you could taste it. your nerves were heightened and your clit throbbed pitifully. but your oh so sweet boyfriend had been denying you of it for some time now, leaving you frustrated and desperate. the need for release was growing borderline painful.
hongjoong laid between your legs comfortably, your knees thrown over his shoulders, your heels digging into his back. he pulled back from you, releasing your achey bud with a lewd pop!. your pitiful little mewl reached his ears and he smiled while his thumbs spread your lips apart. he watched your leaky hole closely, admiring how pretty and swollen it was for him. “such a pretty pussy. so cute and pink and messy.” he leaned in to kiss your clit before swiping his tongue through your folds. he hummed in delight as your slickness coated his tongue.
you lifted your head to peer down at him. through the pink fringe that covered his face you could see his eyes; they were on your pussy, and a serene expression rested on his features. he looked so peaceful, so calm. everything you were not. he was in no hurry it seemed while you were quickly losing patience. not that you had much to begin with. “joongie,” you breathed, “please, i need to cum. so bad it hurts.”
he casted his eyes upwards while his tongue swirled around your throbbing clit. “i know, pretty girl. i know.” you wiggled and squirmed and your heels dug into his back. “you’re just so cute when you’re all pouty. but you can trust me, right? my pretty girl will get to cum soon.”
you all but sobbed. you were so close, his tongue doing just enough to get you to the edge, but not enough to push you over it. a symphony of moans fell from your lips as he continued his sweet torture on your clit. you wanted to buck your hips, to grind into his face for more friction, but his hold kept you rooted to the mattress. he worked you up to the edge yet again, and just when you thought he was finally giving in, his tongue left your clit.
hongjoong kissed your clit again and chuckled at the way you sobbed. “my sweet girl’s so close. gonna make you cum, baby. make you feel so good.”
you whimpered, wiggling against his hold. “joongie, please, i can’t! need to cum. please!” your breathing was growing frantic, your eyes watering, and cunt clenching around nothing. pleas and sighs of his name resounded off your tongue until you sounded like a broken record, both of your hands tangling into his fluffy locks.
“you can, sweet girl,” hongjoong encouraged. he licked your clit. “just wait for me a little more.”
your head shook side to side. tears spilled down your cheeks. you were so desperate, so dumb to anything other than the raging need between your thighs. you were on the verge of exploding. he had worn you down to this whimpering mess, had broken you down into his little whiny girl that depended on him for release. you moaned while he licked and sucked, silently praying he wasn’t going to deprive you yet again.
“you’ve been so good for me, baby. come on, go ahead and cum for me.” hongjoong lifted your thighs and pressed them flat into the mattress, spreading you out perfectly for him. he feasted on you, lapping and sucking on your swollen bundle of nerves until he felt your legs shake in his hold.
with his permission you were catapulted off the edge. finally. your orgasm erupted within your body, flooding every vein and overwhelming every nerve. you shook from the force of it, nerves so heightened from the pent up desire that the sensation was almost too much to bear. just as you started to come down, you felt two fingers slip through your folds. your back arched off the mattress at the overstimulation. “oh, j-joong, fuck!”
hongjoong hummed in delight, removing his mouth from your sex to watch his fingers work in and out of your slippery hole. “didn’t that feel good, baby? you always cum so much harder after i toy with you a little bit first.”
his fingers were quick to find the sweet gummy spot nestled within you. “‘s too much!” he’d worked you up for so long before letting you cum. your nerves were fried; it was all so much.
“after all that whimpering and crying to cum, i’m just giving my sweet girl what she wants.” his voice was sickeningly sweet. his actions were a stark contrast, his fingers reaching in and brushing against your sweet spot repetitively and making your cunt make the most unholy squelching noises. “silly, whiny little girl. just lay back and take what i give you.”
his switch up could’ve given you whiplash. going from taking to giving. this was hongjoong, and fuck it all, you loved the way he worked your body. the way he so expertly controlled your pleasure, like he knew your own body better than you did. his fingers were precise and with your previous high still lingering, you weren’t going to last much longer. “joong! ‘m gonna cum! gonna cum!”
“oh yeah?” hongjoong smirked while he thumbed your clit, offering a few smooth circles before replacing it with his tongue. “cum for me again, baby.”
his tongue flicking your bundle of nerves while his fingers plunged in and out of you was a lethal combination that had you wanting to escape yet hoping he would never stop. you came hard, even harder than before, body shaking as the pleasure wracked your body from head to toe. he milked you so good, continuing what he was doing until you were pushing him off you. “o-oh, my god, joong. please, i can’t!”
hongjoong pulled his fingers out of you finally. he laughed when you sighed in relief before trailing kisses up your tummy. “what? too much for my pretty girl?” you nodded and whimpered and fuck you looked so adorable. how was he not supposed to make a mess of you when you looked like this? he paid attention to your pebbled nipples, sucking on them while his hands gripped the underside of your breasts. you were beyond sensitive, body jerking under his touch. he lifted himself onto his elbows to watch over you, pink hair messy from your hands and chin shiny with your slick. “look how messy you are. so cute.”
you huffed at his teasing tone. he looked a mess, too, though the sight of him in this state was enough to make desire reignite between your legs despite coming twice already. “please, joongie. stop teasing…”
hongjoong kissed your pouty lips, offering you a taste of yourself. “again, you’re so cute when you’re all pouty. i just can’t help but tease you.” he kissed your blushy cheeks before he found your lips again. this time they lingered, kissing you fully and deeply.
you moaned into his mouth as you tasted yourself. your hands found his hair again and tugged to pull him in, deepening the kiss further. “you’re so annoying, you know that?”
your words lacked any weight. hongjoong rolled his eyes. “yeah, i’m so annoying even though i just made you cum twice.” his hips rolled as his your lips reconnected, grinding his neglected bulge into you. he swallowed up your pretty moan and released one of his own, cock throbbing with need for attention. “gonna make you cum a third time, too. around my cock.” a groan. “wanna feel you make a mess all over it, baby.”
“joong…” you whined. he was so damn hard, and it wasn’t until now that you thought about how much he was depriving himself this whole time. “i’m so sensitive, i —”
“you’re going to take it,” he huffed out while working his cock out from his sweats. once freed, he rubbed his cockhead against your slippery folds, mixing his precum with your juices. his tip was warm, red, and leaky. he pushed himself in, just a little, and it was enough to make him throb. “fucking take all of it.”
just the stretch from his tip alone was maddening. your poor little pussy was so sensitive. you mewled and cried as his cock toyed at your entrance. “oh my — fuck, joong!”
hongjoong slipped himself in inch by inch until he was fully settled in your snug cunt. you were wet and warm and tight; so perfectly his. you were made for his cock. “god,” he groaned. “‘m never gonna get over how fucking perfect your pussy feels. fuck.”
he was allowing you time to adjust, but you were so overstimulated just the fullness of him was enough to have you squirming and writhing. fresh tears welled in your eyes before spilling down your cheeks. too much, too much, too much. “i’m gonna, fuck, i’m, ahh!”
hongjoong chuckled at your stuttering, pride swelling in his chest as he watched the tears fall down your pretty face. his thumb rose to your cheek to swipe a stray tear away. “so pretty when you cry,” he kissed another tear just as it fell, “cry for me.” he pulled his hips back painfully slow before thrusting back in sharply. he repeated this again and again before he found a rhythm.
your eyes squeezed shut and even more tears fell. your hands clutched at his cotton candy pink hair. you needed to hold onto something. if you didn’t, you were certain you would’ve flown away from the force of his thrusts. your jaw was slack and mouth agape, silent moans escaping you uncontrollably.
your cunt was taking him in greedily, slick dripping out of you every time he sunk back in. the lewd squelching sounds filled the air, accompanied by the slaps of his hips colliding with yours. it was a nasty symphony. “your pussy is crying too, baby. crying from how good i’m fucking her.” he nibbled at your jawline, teething at the flesh until you whimpered.
his cockhead brushed against your g-spot and your tear filled eyes rolled backwards. you were positive you looked like a disaster, but you didn’t care. not when he was fucking you so good your toes curled. “shit. you feel so good, joongie. s’good!”
hongjoong watched your face. you were so pretty, all fucked out for him. “yeah? i’m makin my pretty girl feel good?” a hand snaked down your body towards where you were joined together. his thumb pressed to your clit and your reaction was immediate. he groaned at the way your walls squeezed him.
“oh god!” you were shaking. you felt like every nerve was on fire as he thumbed your clit at the same pace of his hips. he was drilling into you with practiced precision, hitting your gummy spot over and over and over.
“c-cum, baby, cum for me,” hongjoong encouraged, voice breathy as he fought back his own release. he didn’t let up, circling your clit with his thumb and fucking your tight cunt until you were screaming. “make a mess on my cock.”
you came with a rush, screams of his name filling the room while white hot pleasure overwhelmed your senses. you did as he said, making a mess of yourself all over him until the sheets were soaked in your release. his name fell from your lips uncontrollably.
“shit.” hongjoong, urged by your own release, fell apart above you, hips coming to a halt as he spilled himself inside you. he filled you up until a mix of his seed and your juices began to leak out of your cunt. he leaned down and kissed you as you both came down from your highs, sweaty bodies pressed together. your breaths mingled as your lips slotted together sloppily. your hands remained in his hair. “fuck, baby, i love you.”
you pulled at his pink hair to kiss him again. you exhaled. “i love you too, joongie.” and you really did. even if he enjoyed teasing you just a bit too much.
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AUTHOR’S NOTES — idk. like i really don’t. just head full of pink joongie <3
TAG LIST — @abiaswreck @hongthoven @jungkookieprincess @lilie-dctl @mjyungi @marievllr-abg @mylovelymito @nebulousbookshelf @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @staytinyinmybpack @thesafecafe (if you’d like to be on my tag list, find the tag list form link on the pinned post on my blog!)
NETWORKS — @kflixnet @wonderlandnet
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ALL FICS ARE THE ORIGINAL IDEAS AND WRITTEN WORKS OF NATEEZFICS. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. REPOSTING WITHOUT CONSENT FROM THE AUTHOR NATEEZFICS IS PROHIBITED!
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byuntrash101 · 7 months
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realistic sex with mingi
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mingi x f!reader fluff | smut | mdni a/n: mingi is the second entry to this series where i try to imagine how each member would actually fuck, as ✨realistically✨ as possible. disclaimer: i say realistic but lets be honest this is pure delulu behaviour and total fiction. everything is solely based on the vibes the boys give off.
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first i wanna say loyal af. like he probably simped for you for a while before daring to even speak to you so now that he's got you he's not interested in anyone else. 
he will literally place in every conversation with a stranger that he has a gf within the first few minutes just so everything is clear.
also it helps that he just constantly wanna brag about you/show you off (more on that later). because he’s just so proud he pulled you.
mingi makes his intentions KNOWN. that man is taken thank you very much
he wears his heart on his sleeves and it shows when he's dating and i think that's why he sucks at flirting when he actually cares. if he's crushing on you he'll be all clumsy and will try to do too much to impress you by doing/being too much. eg: laughing super loud at jokes, or if you are with a group of friends he would find a way to make everyone quiet so you can speak (also will find a way to always be the one sitting next to you)
if it's just a fling for a confidence boost and he has no real interest in the person then he'll be so smooooooth, literally rizz over 9000. we’re talking full on witty/flirty remarks, attentive sharp eyes and sinful lip biting morphing into the most stunning smile you’ve ever seen.
but not with you nuh huh. the man was a mess either too selfconscious to speak or just ending up saying something really cringe (which he thought about for weeks after)
but eventually he got to score you for himself
that's why he absolutely loves skinship. he wants to hold your hand, have you play with his hair all the time. he wants to have his big hand on your thigh (we'll talk more about that later wink wonk) when you're sitting next to him. and he doesn't care if people are around. pda is his middle name. (definitely pda line with san and woo)
he will literally kiss you like his life depends on it in front of whoever wants to see. (actually he might even like have an audience wink wonk again)
i feel mingi enjoys lazy sex. he loves to take you when you're both laying on your side.  he likes that this way he gets to hold your hips. curl his fingers around your thighs and pull you back on his cock over and over again while he peppers you with kisses in the crook of your neck moaning just for you right in your ear
but what this man really loves is when you are on top. i’m convinced he's a switch. He can dom or sub but if he doms then you'll have to be a power bottom.
he just loves seeing you on top.
he truly believes under you is his rightful place. there or between your legs (more on that laterrrr)
needless to say he's a sub leaning switch but that being said he's not into anything very rough (especially not on the receiving end).
but he definitely has it in him. he can be really rough if you know how to push his buttons right
speaking of which that is not through jealousy
if he sees you flirting with someone else i don't think it will tap into his possessiveness. well it might but it won't have the desired effect. it will only make him insecure and maybe he will feel like he's losing you. so please don't make our giant baby jealous he'll only be sad.
(i think that would absolutely do the trick on joong, woo and 2ho)
no if you want him to rail you like a train i think you have to use one specific tactic for maximum domification effect: tapping into his voyeurism/exhibitionism thing
i feel like he would love for you to be risky in public like i said mingi is proud of you and he loves to show you off. he is def the type to like to have an audience. i think there's a little voyeurism/exhibitionism hiding in him somewhere. so tap into that to get him really going.
maybe lift up your skirt for him while grocery shopping or like whisper to him that you're not wearing any underwear while at the dinner table with all the members better yet one up that statement by discreetly slipping the undergarment into his hand. i guarantee he’ll become hard on the spot. if you start stroking his thighs (an innocent token of affection for the others) he will start leaking for you too. getting red in the face and blaming it on the alcohol when the others point it out.
if you’re really daring (and you really want him to go crazy on you after) brush your hand over his hard on but that’s risky because he just might jerk his hips up so powerfully (unintentionally ofc) that it will knock over your soju glasses.
but that’s the perfect excuse to bring him to the bathroom pretending he got some soju on his pants… (smirking evilly)
but yeah just be a little secretly naughty just for him. 
and now that he’s got you for himself it’s all over for you
he'll tear your clothes the second he can. making you take him hard and deep and manhandling you
bending you over the bathroom sink and pushing his big fat cock into your already pulsing little pussy. scoffing at you when he swipes his tip through your folds only to realize you are soaking wet.
“look at you. getting all wet from being a little brat all night”
the second he bottoms out he lets out the lowest of groans and snakes his fingers in your hair, lifting your head and making you look at yourself in the mirror.
"that's what you wanted right?" "i should have bent you over the table and taken you right there in front of all of them" 
he probably made you cum embarrassingly fast too "looked at your fucked out face, baby. you talked a big game but is that really all you got?" then proceeds to fuck you some more just to overstim you <3
dklajdlskslskdb
but i think he naturally gravitates towards subbing. he can and will dom but he prefers being taken care of (a princess <3) so if you're a dom by nature that's completely fine by him
one thing is certain mingi needs LOTS OF PRAISE. just watch his face melt when you tell him what a good job he does. the low groans turning into high pitched whimpers every time you call him your good boy. 
“you’re doing so good for me baby” “you feel so good inside me”
he will literally bury his face in your neck and muffle his whines on your skin.
and that's it he’s gone. done for. 
another big thing about this big man: ORAL
eating you out
mingi's purpose is to be between your legs. he loves to eat you out. hwa and him are the members that like it the most. but contrary to hwa that takes advantage of the absolutely fantastic muscle he has in his mouth mingi uses another advantage. which is his beautiful nose. mingi loves to actually fuck you with his whole face. he will slip his tongue into your center while rubbing his nose on your clit. 
or better yet he will have you sit on his face. and just so we’re clear when he says sit on it. he means SIT. he wants to suffocate in your juices, your thighs tightly wrapped around his head. he wants you to use him. he wants to feel your arousal dripping in his eager mouth and your taste clouding his mind. he wants to lose himself into you. he loves to feel your thrusts against his face, struggling to breathe every chances he gets. feeling drag you swollen clit over his mouth and nose and throbbing when your close. there’s nothing he likes more.
but mingi loves oral in general he also absolutely loves to be in your mouth
and the primary reason for this is very simple EYE CONTACT. he loves that. he loves to see you look at him. he wants to be your whole world (because you surely are his everything) and he loves to have your undivided attention. (that man just loves attention i mean have you seen him on stage? Doing all the scandalous body rolls just to wreck every bias list in the venue. literally the most leo move he can pull smh)
other reason why he loves to be in your mouth is because this man be packing the big gunsss proud member of big dick line with yunho
he loves to see you struggle to take him all in your mouth and loves to see your watery eyes and he likes it SLOPPY. Just go to town on his big fat cock. Really don't be shy. Use a lot of spit and changing of pace and don’t forget the balls. maybe edge him a little i think he might like it too. just imagine the beautiful noises you can pull out of him if you keep him on the edge for a while. until he caves in and just begs so sweetly for you <3
“pleasepleasepleaseplease” when he feels he’s close then sigh in disappointment when you take your mouth off him once again. So he bucks his hips up trying so bad to have your mouth around him again, his tip red and leaking for you. “please wanna cum so bad. pleaseplease i’ll do anything please let me cum”
all the while looking you dead in the eyes. he looks so cute his face all flushed and his mouth agape. he wouldn’t dare to take his eyes off yours for a second because he loves to see that smirk of yours spread on your lips. he wants to look at you all the time.
thats why mingi never wants to fuck in the dark in wants to see you (unlike hwa who loves to see you ofc but he needs to hear you)
and that's also why his favorite position is cowgirl!!!! he just loves looking at you make yourself feel good using his cock. he loves to look at your face, your chest, your body. just all of you using him. 
he gets to see your breasts bounce on your chest with every thrust. he gets to see you arch your back and your jaw fall open when you get close and gets to see your skin glisten under a light sheen of sweat. he gets to see your nails leaving beautiful marks on his pecs. the undeniable proof that he belongs to you. because that’s exactly what he wants to be. he wants to feel like your toy.
when it comes to the sounds. i don't think mingi is very vocal.... with words that is because yes you WILL absolutely hear him. when he's on top/in control. It's lots of deep, guttural groans. i mean the man can go deeeeeep with his voice (and his dick) so i feel like he'll do just that.
he's not the one doing the dirty talk but HE LOVES to hear you saying all those nasty things (hence the praising from earlier). It's literally the only time he'll shut up to let you do all the talking. so do that. that will make him absolutely crazy for you.
and when he gets close or he’s subbing the groans turn into high pitched whines. mingi can go really high pitched (cfr. the way he screams when he's scared in wanteez) so you know instantly when he's about to cum. right when he is on the edge i think is the right time to be a little rougher if you're on top. maybe choke him or pull his hair. he would really love that. but don't be too rough either, especially with words.
he likes to cum anywhere on or in you. but what he really likes is when you choose. he loves to hear you say "i want you to fill me up with your cum" or "you can cum in my mouth baby" he will bust instantly at those commands. because you got him wrapped around your fingers and he knows and can’t get enough.
but when you say "you're doing so well for me my baby as a reward i'll let you cum where you want" then be certain he's going to pick your face almost every time. and don't close your eyes. look at him! he loves to cum for you. he wants you to see that. 
afterwards you better big spoon him to sleep because he deserves it <3
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IF U WANNA HELP ME PLEASE REBLOG WITHOUT USING THE COMMUNITY LABELS 🖤
want to see another member? request it in the comments or asks <3
realistic sex with seonghwa, with yunho, with wooyoung | ateez masterlist | navigation
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songmingisthighs · 6 months
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ateez reacts to you catching a bouquet at a wedding
group : ateez
pairing : ateez (individual) × reader
genre : relationship, romance, crack ?
wc : 3 k
warning : idk relationship ??
a/n : my impulse strikes again
buy me coffee ?
hongjoong
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From the moment the mc announced the bouquet catching session, Hongjoong was tense. He sat slightly straighter and his eyes were wide as his attention was focused on you who joined the other people on the floor.
"Oh look, he's about to shit himself," Wooyoung snickered as he sip his cocktail. Seonghwa smacked his younger friend on the chest and shook his head, "Don't be an ass, bouquet toss doesn't have to mean anything," he said as he shifted his eyes to his frozen friend. "Is he even functioning?" Mingi asked, peering over to wave a hand in front of Hongjoong's face, noticing how the older only move to take small sips of his scotch. "I am, thanks for asking," Hongjoong answered in a monotonous tone, everything he had was put solely on your excited form, not knowing how to feel about you possibly catching the bouquet and expecting things.
What Hongjoong didn't expect was expecting for you to actually catch the bouquet and feeling happy when you did it. He couldn't possibly forget the look on your face as you ran back to him to show off the pretty arrangement. "Did you have fun?" He asked, can't help but cracking a smile as you sat down on your original seat next to him, making the others disperse to give you two a moment. "Of course I did, look!" You giggled, showing off.
From the corner of his eyes, he could see people looking at the both of you and he began getting nervous again. Noticing this, you reached your hand to grab his and smiled, "Don't worry Joong, I'm not expecting anything from you. It's just a fun activity to see if anyone would embarrass themselves," you leaned in to peck him on the lips gently, "So you stop looking like you're about to shit your pants, okay?" You said as you stood up and walked off to your friends.
It was at that moment that Hongjoong realized that he really do want to spend the rest of his life with you. You were so understanding with him and you could always seem to calm his irrational fears. Maybe people were on to something about wedding bouquets.
seonghwa
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In all honesty, you never thought of joining the others in the bouquet toss because a. it's cheesy, b. it's barbaric, c. you're in heels and you'd make a fool out of yourself. But it seemed like Seonghwa REALLY wanted you to join in, failing miserably to "subtly" encouraging you. Who'd say 'It's good to get a bit of movement' ?? Your boyfriend Park Seonghwa, that's who.
So you found yourself amongst other people in the middle of the floor, looking at your boyfriend who was grinning at you by the sidelines. "I hate you," you mouthed at him to which he replied by blowing you a kiss, "I love you too," he mouthed back. You could've just walk away but your boyfriend wanted you to do it and honestly, you'd rather comply to the bouquet catching than the other thing he wanted to do. In public space. Semi-public place. Or an open space. Or basically just... A place.
You weren't even paying much attention but somehow you managed to catch the bouquet, it just fell into your hands after three people fought over it on top of your head. The whole crowd couldn't help but stare at you in your dumbfoundedness for a solid five seconds before errupting into a big cheer. The crowd made a path for you to go to your boyfriend and your body just moved on instinct, welcoming his awaiting hug and breaking out of your trance when he pecked your lips. "Seonghwa, I swear, I don't-" you wanted to explain but he just grinned widely, "Guess you're just lucky," he chuckled as he placed his hand on your back to guide you back to your seat.
Little did you know, Seonghwa pulled the bride to be in cahoots with him, making sure to aim the bouquet at you and hope for the best because in a week's time, you'd change your status from being his girlfriend to his fiance.
yunho
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Weddings are always your and your boyfriend's thing because neither one of you can resist people in fancy clothing dancing like goofy dorks. And the celebration of love and whatever but mostly the goofy part.
That particular wedding, you and he were pretending to be someone else. Each of you have characters, personas that you assume to mess with people. It's not his fault that people believed that he's south korea's first classically trained didgeridoo player who won an award for breakdancing to mozart. You wondered why he and you hadn't got caught yet for making a mockery of someone's marriage ceremony. A mockridge ceremony.
Not even when the bouquet toss happened did you two start to pay attention. Because you both obviously didn't. You both were doing subtle goofy dances by the edge of the circle, completely immersed in the song they played to wind up the crowd, giggling at each other like lovestruck fools. The last thing you remembered was raising your hands in the air, hearing someone yelled 'the bouquet!', then when your hands dropped back down, you were holding said bouquet.
With wide eyes, you stared at each other dumbly for some time before Yunho broke into a fit of giggles while grinning dumbly. "Guess I really need to learn the didgeridoo so i can turn you into a didgeri-i-do," he joked. You rolled your eyes and slap his chest without trying to hold back your own wide grin from his lame wordplay but also the very unique situation. "What if it's a didgeridon't?" "Not possible, you love me too much," he teased, kissing your lips with the crowd cheering behind you two.
yeosang
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You love your boyfriend but you sometimes hate how seriously unserious he is. For example, who would think about why perry the platypus was teal? Who would suddenly ask if you have a bandaid in your purse only to put it on Seonghwa's leg and ripping it along with his leg hair? And lastly, who would start a bet at someone's wedding? Oh yeah, your boyfriend.
"And what will you give me if I do catch the bouquet?" You challenged, raising an eyebrow with crossed arms as you leaned back on your seat. Yeosang pursed his lips for a moment before shrugging, "We can iron out the details later but for now, let's just say it's anything you want and same wager if you lose." "You're on," you pointed at him before standing up, leaning close to his face and squint your eyes, "Get ready to eat dirt, you no-good loser. Love you," you pecked his lips before skittering away to join the forming crowd, leaving Yeosang smirking in amusement.
San pulled Yeosang to get a closer look at you, standing a bit further away but close enough to see you clearly. "Look, she's standing a bit out, she's gonna lose this bet," Yeosang pointed at you to San who furrowed his eyebrows, "I don't know man, look at the determination in her eyes, she might kill someone to win your stupid bet," he stated. And true to what San said, you actually jumped into the air with no trouble despite your mid-length skirt and heels, catching the bouquet and landing safely in front of Yeosang, making eye-contact with him. Your boyfriend stared at you with widened eyes and when you raised an eyebrow at him before turning around to face the crowd, he could feel his lips curling into a grin, amused.
Laughing, San leaned back slightly and muttered to Yeosang, "You're so screwed man, she's gonna play you like a damn fiddle." And that's when Yeosang's grin fell.
san
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Everything is truly fun and games in your relationship with San. In a good way, of course. He has a knack of finding the fun in everything, even the most serious situation.
"Honey, you have to get that bouquet," he panted after rushing from the dessert bar to your table. Your furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, "What are you talking about?" "The bouquet toss!! I heard Wooyoung, Yunho, and Seonghwa hyung are doing it so you have to do it too!" He said, grabbing your hand to tug you up. "Me? You're the competitive one, you do it!" You said, slapping his hand away to sip your champagne. San raised an eyebrow and spoke in a monotonous tone, "I heard Wooyoung saying you don't have it in you to win against them and the crowd." Well, that ticked you off just right. One second you were sipping your champagne, and the next, you downed the whole flute, "Move," you hissed, pushing San out of the way and stomp over to where they were preparing for the bouquet toss, San hot on your tail grinning like an idiot.
It wasn't even a real competition yet he was hyping you up like how a coach would. He even motioned for you to elbow Wooyoung and anyone else if you had to (which of course you won't because that's crazy, you're not an animal, and it's so not worth the hassle if you're charged with assault). But as much as he was excited for your participation, that excitement trippled when you really did catch the bouquet (and managed to "accidentally" knee Wooyoung in the gut). He couldn't help but run to you and spun you around. You grinned and let him hold you, liking the attention and utter pride San had for you. "That's my baby!" He exclaimed happily, causing people (mainly girls) to squeal and swoon at how sweet you two were being.
mingi
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"Babe, what if I caught the bouquet?" You asked your boyfriend who had his eye on his cake but turned when you called him. "This bouquet?" He asked, pointing to the arrangement in the middle of the table. You chuckled and shook your head, "Sweetie, that's a centerpiece and I won't be able to catch that," you then nodded to the bride, "That's a bouquet and the thing she will be tossing. I wanna catch it," you stated determinedly. Mingi simply shrugged, "Then catch it, I'm rooting for you," he grinned, leaning down to peck your lips.
You knew you shouldn't expect anything, but you know the meaning of catching the bouquet. So in your wedding haze-infused head, you thought that it was Mingi's way of hinting about the future. Particularly your future together. So you excitedly skip over to join the others, determined to catch the bouquet and see if your boyfriend would do something about it.
Your determination proved to be fruitful because you did catch the bouquet and the moment you did, your friends (especially the male ones) went over to pat Mingi on the back and shook hands with him. He was looking around confusedly, not understanding why he was being congratulated when it was you who caught the bouquet. He wanted to ask you but you were still surrounded by people and there was no way he could get to you.
Thankfully, Hongjoong came over but judging from the smirk on his face, Mingi wasn't sure if he should be glad. "So happy for you man. When are you gonna do it?" Hongjoong asked. Mingi scoffed at his older friend and crossed his arms, "My sex life is not up for small talk, hyung. What are you, raised by animal?" Hongjoong rolled his eyes though he wasn't too surprised. "Not that, dumbass, I mean proposing! When are you gonna do it?" The confused look on Mingi's face was hilarious and concerning and to be frank, Hongjoong didn't know which he should address first. "You do know that catching the bouquet means that you're gonna be married next, right?" After hearing that, things started to make sense to Mingi.
Rushing to you once the crowd dispersed, you were surprised when Mingi grabbed your shoulders, "Does this mean I have to propose now?" You simply rolled your eyes and pat his cheeks, "Not right now sweetie, this is our friends' big day. But soon would be great and I hope it would be a grand gesture," you smiled sweetly and pecked his cheek before walking off to get a drink, leaving Mingi there dumbfounded.
wooyoung
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It started off as a joke. You know your boyfriend and you know how he likes to play things cool like as if he doesn't care but he so does.
"I'm telling you, I will do it," you said seriously, crossing your arms and raising your eyebrows at him. "I know and I'm telling you go ahead," Wooyoung shrugged oh so simply with his arms also crossed in front of his chest. Quite frankly, you wanted him to be affected even if it's just slightly like raising his voice, squeaking, or even laugh like a damn witch possessed by a tea kettle. "I'm telling you, I will really do it," you took a step away from your boyfriend, closer to where people were gathering. But Wooyoung simply shrugged again, "Okay? Do you need me to change shoes with you? Trade outfits so you can move better?" Now he was starting to sound condescending so you simple huff and stomo away and as soon as you were away, Wooyoung cracked a smirk.
"You're going to hell for this," Seonghwa sighed as he sidled up next to Wooyoung who was watching you closely. There was still a stupid smirk on Wooyoung's face, "Might as well, hyung. It's about time hell has a new ruler." "You know this can potentially end badly right?" Seonghwa asked, "And a meteor could potentially hit earth at any given moment yet here we are still functioning as a society," Wooyoung said as he pat his hyung on the shoulder. Just as Seonghwa was about to answer, Wooyoung shushed him because the mc announced that the bouquet will be tossed and he wanted to see you succeeding.
As much as he was an ass, Wooyoung actually liked how you two interact. He loves you and he likes the relationship a lot. Which was why there were no question or hesitance to his plan.
It wouldn't even matter to him if you caught the bouquet or not but as it happens, luck was in his favour and you actually caught the bouquet. In the midst of your utter excitement what with cheering and jumping happily, you didn't even realize Wooyoung standing behind you until people started hushing and all eyes fell on you two. You turned around to see Wooyoung looking at you so intently and your eyes widened considerably followed by people gasping when Wooyoung got down on one knee slowly. "(y/n)..." He started, smiling gently at you which made your heart beat faster and eyes watering.
Then he looked down and tied his shoes before standing back up. "Come on, I wanna take a picture to show my mom," he nodded to the exit before walking away.
Not just you, but the whole crowd of bouquet toss participants were looking at you with their jaws slack while some people in the back (Yunho, Mingi, San, and Hongjoong) laughing their asses off.
"Jung Wooyoung!" You hissed as you followed him once you realized what had happened. Wooyoung was holding his laughter as best as he could, knowing that being riled up like this, you'd definitely like the surprise he has for you at home.
jongho
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Never would anyone guessed that Jongho would be such a simp of a boyfriend. Then again, no one (his friends) thought he'd even be a boyfriend considering his aversion to skinship, cutesy talk, and any and all forms of love being displayed proudly.
"You're so disgustingly in love, it's sick," Wooyoung cringed, looking at how Jongho was looking at you with a dumb smile and lovestruck eyes. "Shut up hyung or else you'll die alone," he retorted, smile ever present and even widening when you turned to look and waved at him. "Can you not make googly eyes while she's about to seal your fate of marrying her? It's so... Simpy," Wooyoung stated again. Thankfully, Yeosang slapped his best friend on his neck to shut him up, "Let Jongho be happy with his premature engagement," it was then that Jongho realized that Yeosang was also making fun of him.
But he couldn't care less. He shrugged and crossed his arms, "If she wants that, I'll go buy a ring tomorrow," he challenged. Mingi then scoffed from his standing position behind Jongho, "You won't even buy me a candy ring, how are you gonna buy your girlfriend an engagement ring?" To which Jongho scrunched his eyebrows and turned to look at Mingi, "I think you just answered your own question."
No amount of noise could disturb how focused Jongho was on you. His eyes followed over your every move with curiosity, affection, and worry, a combination that got him teased endlessly by his friends. But it wasn't as bad as when you actually caught the bouquet and you immediately ran to your boyfriend who got out of his seat to wait for you with open arms.
"Jongho, look!" You showed him the bouquet with a happy grin on your face, "I caught this for you," you teased, wiggling your eyebrows at him. Jongho chuckled at your adorableness and nodded, "Thank you, darling, I appreciate your effort," he said before pulling you by your waist back to your seats. "No fair, I got him whiskey just now and all he said was 'where's the ice?'. It's favouritism!" San whined. Jongho simply pushed his chair closer to yours and draped an arm around your shoulder to bring you close to him, "What can I say? You're not (y/n), hyung," he smirked before leaning down to whisper in your ears, "And I'm willing to give you anything you want," he said before pecking ypu on your cheek, making your whole body heat up at the insinuation. From both the sfw and nsfw spectrum.
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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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