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knjsnoona · 3 years

Text

Restoration

genre: smut || slice of life pairing: jin x reader word Count: 10.1k rating: 18+ warnings: language, light dom!jin, explicit sexual descriptions, choking, fingering summary: Return to your childhood hone with your partner, Jin only to discover how much it’s changed. project: this part of the bcc summer games event~ it’s was for the image prompt which is the one under the name of the fic in the banner lol this was meant to be short, but then i included this whole first half smh credits: a HUGE thank you goes to my amazing beta reader @destructiveasparagus ! helped me find where my weaknesses lie and super incredibly helpful in how to learn from my mistakes! thank you so so much! i hope to improve with my future works!

It had been a long time since you’d been to your hometown, so long you barely recognized it as you drove in with your fiancé. Streets you once ran around on as a child—knowing each backstreet like the back of your hand—now seemed like the paths of a maze; roads that stirred distant memories of laughter and joy.

Eyes catching new shops where your favorite childhood hangouts once stood, a dull ache laced with both nostalgia and discomfort begins to stir within you. It seems the town had decided to be more modern… more suburban you guessed. It kind of made you sad if you were honest with yourself. You were expecting to return to the home you once loved, and to be bathed in the memories of each corner, shop, and alley.

Becoming more frustrated with each new sight you didn’t recognize, you sink into your seat releasing a sigh. Crossing your arms loosely over your chest, you look down at your knees. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you pondered what your neighborhood would look like. You hoped against hope that at least that small corner of your memories wouldn’t be betrayed.

“You okay?”

Catching your attention, you look to the side at your fiancé who had turned to look at you as he made a stop at a red light. His handsome features twisted into concern, which brought a small smile to your lips. Softly nodding, you try to assuage his worries.

“I’m fine, Seokjin. Just realizing how long it’s been since I was home is all,” melancholy weaving into your voice, gaze forlornly sweeping out the windows of the vehicle again.

“Changed that much, huh?” eyes still on you, every so often shuffling to make sure the street light hadn’t changed yet.

You nod, watching as a couple of teenage girls walk with some name brand iced coffees in their hands, eyes glued to their phones, as they giggled about something mundane. Feeling like a creep for staring, you shake your head and look back at the man by your side. “It’s definitely changed.... too much.”

God, you’d never identified with a boomer harder than you did at this very moment. Words of when I was kid at the tip of your tongue, wanting to rant about all the things you remembered as a kid and how it had been ruined now. You’d never regretted leaving home before, not until this moment. All of your treasured spots, destroyed by gentrification. How depressing.

But then you look at what you had gained from your departure from home and you realize how silly you’re being. You had found tons of struggle out in the world on your own. Learned what it was like to truly live in a woman’s world; having to work twice as hard for half the pay of a man; earning the way you had to always be cautious and on the lookout for dangers that lurked around every corner when the sun went down; learned how to pick yourself back up and work harder, when you were passed up on a promotion in favor of the manager’s son.

But you made it through every obstacle. You were a fighter, and never shied away from fighting to get what you wanted. To deal with the dangers of walking around at night, you took self defense classes. You quit the job that underpaid you. And when the manager at that other job finally offered you that promotion, you gave them your two weeks. You decided to take a position at a startup company that saw your worth, valued your opinions and took your ideas into consideration. A company where you were promoted and given more power to help it grow. It had grown into a multimillion-dollar business. Whose technology had been implemented in every hospital in the country. And the genius behind its creation and production sat by your side.

Kim Seokjin had been a godsend. You’d bumped into him one night at a bar after a particularly rough day of work. You had dropped into the seat beside him, not sparing a single glance his way as you ordered a beer. Shoulders slumping, you rubbed at your eyes in frustration pushing your tears back in. Noticing your distress, he reached out to you. He asked after your well being, taking you by surprise. Cautiously you spoke to him that night, only to be pleasantly surprised by his kind nature. While sharing the struggles of your days with each other, he brought up his start up and how he was looking to fill the position. Handing you a card before you both parted ways, he offered you a position without even knowing your qualifications.

Long story short, you took the position, worked your way up and fell in love with the company's CEO. Of course, there were those that always felt the need to fill the office with unnecessary drama. Hushed whispers in the break rooms, and muttered words across the cubicles of how you had slept your way to the top. But you shrugged them all off, no water off a duck’s back right? Besides, how do you sleep your way to the top of a tiny startup? There was no top or bottom. The tomfoolery of the envious, honestly.

The car jerking into motion brings you back to the present. Blinking the memories of the past decade or so out of the way. Vision returning to your present day home town, suddenly not so bothered by the changes. Your home had grown up and adapted, just as you had. That thought alone brings a smile to your face. A hand slipping over your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze, making you completely beam as you take Jin's hand in your own ringed hand. Placing a soft kiss on the back of his hand, as you hold it tenderly in your lap, his quiet laugh filling the space in the car as you continued on your way.

Some ten minutes later, you pull up the front of your childhood home; warmth filling your chest as you notice how little it’s changed. Aside from a few cosmetic changes it was still the same. And there they were, all the memories rushing in at once. The feelings you had been anticipating finally hit you. Now you felt like you were truly home as you were surrounded by all the wonderful memories of your childhood.

A gentle hand on your lower back brings you back, you smile up at Jin who stands by your side. A reassuring smile adorns his plush lips, as he rubs small circles on your back in a show of support and affection.

“You ready?”

Taking one large lung full of air, you hold it for a couple beats before deflating and nodding up at him. The steadying warmth of his hand on your lower back fills you with all the confidence you needed as you made your way up the stone patch.

Worries of how your family would react to you being back niggling the back of your mind. You tried to keep in touch as much as you could but there were times it was almost impossible due to financial stability or work load. Damn, a small bit of guilt began to bloom in your chest. So you stand frozen, finger just a few inches from the doorbell. Maybe you should’ve called before showing up.

Sensing your internal struggle, Jin wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. Plush lips press to the crown of your head leaving a quick kiss. “Everything’s going to be fine, babe,” he whispers into your hair.

“How do you know? I mean- I’ve been gone so long… they have to be angry with me. What if they think I don't care?” you fret, teeth gnawing at the inside of your bottom lip, hands twisting into the hem of your shirt, wrinkling the smooth fabric in the anxiety.

Chuckling softly, the arm around you turns you to face the tall male. Eyes roam your face, a warmth in them that always somehow seem to soothe your nerves. And sooth they did as you could feel your worries begin to ebb away.

“Hey, none of that,” he chastises, as he presses his hand lightly to your jaw, thumb tugging your bottom lip down. “You’re going to chew yourself raw. And we don’t want that. I don’t want you hurting yourself.” He places a gentle kiss on your lips as if to soothe away any stinging there.

Your lips can’t help but spread into a smile at how he was being such a mother hen. He was always like this, not just with you but with his employees as well. It’s what made him such a good boss, and an even better partner. Lady luck was feeling extremely generous the day she led you to Jin in that quaint bar.

Returning your smile, he quickly places multiple kisses around your face—on your nose, your cheeks, and your forehead. Arms wrapping around your waist to hold you close, as you giggle at the onslaught of kisses he bestowed you with. The sound of his mirth joining yours, pulling back to hold your cheeks gently. Eyes looking into your own as he assures you, “Everything is going to be fine, so stop stressing for once. We’re here to relax okay?”

Sighing, you nod with a smile still perched on your face. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Of course, I am. And the most handsome!” all the confidence in the world seeping out of his words, smugness painting over his pretty features.

You scoff playfully, smacking his arm. “And yet you like claiming you’re humble,” shaking your head you turn back to the door and ring the doorbell without hesitation.

“Well, I’m not bragging if it’s a fact,” comes his witty retort which has your eyes rolling. This was nothing new with him, the man knew he was good looking. I mean you’d have to be blind to not think so as well. But you know, can’t let his ego inflate too big.

“I don’t know… I've seen better looking,” you shrug nonchalantly as you press the doorbell again, hoping someone was actually home. Yeah, you definitely should’ve called ahead.

“What? Where? Who is he!? Wait, are you talking about that kid in marketing? What’s his name?” he instantly barrages you with a succession of questions, jealousy bleeding into his tone. “That pretty boy with the deep voice! You-”

He’s suddenly cut off by the jingling of a handle and the lock being turned, as the door swings open. Your mother stands before you, surprise marring her features. Features that remained the same after all these years, a few wrinkles showing her age joined the painting that was your mother’s face. You’d pictured—imagined—scenarios of seeing her again, of how it would go but the feelings you felt now were far more intense than anything your mind could conjure up. .

You were sure the shock she wore was mirrored by you, as you stood there taking the other in. Your heart hammered away at your chest, pumping emotions into every vein throughout your body until it began to leak out of your eyes. As the first drop made it’s journey down your cheek, you stepped forward prompting your mother to mirror your actions, crashing into each other's arms. You didn’t realize you could miss someone so much and up until that point had been unaware that you had missed being held in the arms of your mother.

You could feel her tears seep through the shirt on your shoulder, happy greetings and words blubbered in excitement. Laughing you pull back enough to look at her, a watery smile greeting you.

“I’ve missed you, Momma,” your voice trembling with the emotions overtaking you.

“I’ve missed you too, sweet pea. I’m so happy to see you safe and healthy. I was worried you weren’t eating well this whole time. I know how you can get, you get too involved in what you’re working on and forget to eat,” your mother rambles on, word vomit just pouring out of her. All the words she hasn’t been able to share with you now fill the space between you. As a teenager you would’ve been annoyed, but now as a grown adult you were endeared by her light nagging.

“She still does that,” Jin's voice catching both of your attention. “Not eat, I mean.”

You turn to him, a self-satisfied smile on his lips, and an incredulous look on yours. Wow, not even two minutes, and he was already selling you out to your mother. You shake your head at him, eyes trying to signal for him to stop. He simply chuckles back.

“Oh is that right?” Your mother gives you a look, before looking back at your handsome partner. “And who might this be?” Eyebrows raise in question to you.

“Oh! I’m so sorry. Momma, this is my, um, fiancé, Kim Seokjin. Jin this is my mother,” you awkwardly introduce them. Biting the corner of your lip as you look at your mother out of the corner of your eye.

She looks at you, surprised at your engaged status, which you hadn’t had the chance to bring up during the brief, rare calls home. You can see the message hidden in her eyes, we’ll talk about this later, before turning to Jin. “It's a pleasure to finally meet you. My, you’re a handsome one.”

You close your eyes and internally groan before turning to Jin pointing a cocky smile your way. He sure was annoying when he was proven right. Gloating prick.

He gives you a quick eyebrow wiggle before turning to smile at your mother. “You’re too kind, really,” acting embarrassed, as he rubs the back of his neck and bows in gratitude once more.

“Oh! And he’s modest!” your mothers cheers delightedly.

Wow, he pulled the fake modesty card. You shake your head at him as you quietly scoff, lips almost quirked in a smile, as he winks at you. He was something else. But he was your something else. He was worth it. Headaches, terrible jokes and all.

“So… is anyone else home?” you questioned, curious as to whether your father, or if any of your siblings, were around. You weren’t sure if they’d be as welcoming as your mother, but her warmth and acceptance of you returning gave you the confidence to continue forward.

Your mother nods at you excitedly, wrapping an arm around yours and moving you towards the door. Jin follows behind amused as your mother explains how one of your aunts was visiting with her family, and how a couple of your siblings were in town. She went a mile a minute, spewing out even the latest family gossip—your father’s brother had cheated on his wife, your cousin had come out of the closet after being caught mid act (“What a scandalous event that was!”) and even how your mother’s eldest sister had beat breast cancer.

You sighed happily as you let your mother lead the way, Jin flanking behind you. Man it felt good to be home.

“We got incredibly lucky,” you said loudly, as you placed a small pile of folded clothes in a drawer. Pacing back over to the suitcase on the bed, pulling out your underwear to place in the same drawer to one side.

“What?” Jin called from the room over.

“I said we got lucky!” you replied, voice louder than before.

“Lucky?”

“Yeah. We‘re lucky they didn’t charge a cancellation fee at the hotel.”

Your mother, after making the rounds with the family, had insisted you stay in your old room. You were surprised that it had remained as you had left it. You were sure it would’ve been turned into a home gym by now, or a man cave for your brother that was still home. The fact that it was still intact, filled you with emotion. Your mother must have held out hope you’d come back, so when she insisted you agreed, unable to deny her request.

Of course there was the task of cancelling your hotel reservation, which everyone knows last minute cancellations come with some hefty cancellation fees. You felt bad as you had dialed the number on your cell, but Jin assured you it was fine and was worth it if you were happy.

As Jin worked on unloading the luggage, you spoke with the concierge who upon looking up the reservation, gifted you with the surprise of not incurring a late fee. You had been surprised and tried to verify the cancellation policy to which the male on the other end confirmed there would be no charge and wished you a pleasant day. You returned the sentiment as you hung up and looked at your partner in mild stupor before relaying the information to which he raised his eyebrows and shrugged, bringing in the rest of your belongings.

“You're still stuck on that?” he points out, humor ringing in his voice.

“Well, isn’t it a bit surprising to you?” you huff, cheeks puffing a bit in a pout.

“I guess…” he trails off momentarily. You could hear the gears turning before he returned with, “Maybe it’s because they saw who I was.”

“What? Why would that matter?” You had a feeling you knew where this was going, and could already feel your eyes preemptively rolling.

“Because, I’m the youngest, most handsome CEO in the nation.” A wheezing laugh following his words, almost sounding like windshield wipers.

Your eyes roll so hard, you see the back of your skull, and into an alternate universe. Why did you put up with him again? And as the sound of a door opening fills the space, you remember one of the reasons as he walks through the door. Towel wrapped loosely around his hips, muscles flexing as he rubbed his hair dry with another towel, he stood in all his glory. Your eyes chase drops of water running down his wet skin, swallowing hard where they disappear into the material knotted around his narrow hips.

“Sweetheart, you’re making me blush with all the ogling,” he chuckles smugly. “I get it though.”

You snap out of your daze, eyes narrowing at his cocky face in annoyance. Shaking your head, you choose to ignore him—turning back to your bag, grabbing some of your toiletries to place on the dresser. Distracted by your task you don’t notice Jin walk up behind you, until you’re tugged back into his wet torso.

“You know,” he mutters into your ear, “I haven’t forgotten that little quip from earlier.” One of his large hands slides up your body, finding its home wrapped around your jaw. He tilts your head back into his shoulder, his other arm wrapping around your waist to pull you further into his form. “You think that kid in the office is better looking than me.”

You take a few calming breaths, body becoming alert with excitement as Jin invades your space. Every word and touch begins to stir desire within you.

“I never said that. You assumed… you know what they say about when you assume,” you can’t help but gibe, lips tugging up in a smirk.

A growl rumbles through you as the grip on your jaw tightens slightly. “Don't be a smart ass… I’ve seen the way you look at him, when you think no one is aware. I’m not an idiot.”

You chuckle, unable to help yourself. His jealous words turn you on more than they should.

“I can’t help it if he’s pretty to look at,” you state complacently.

“Pretty?” he chuckles at your audacity, grip tightening slightly around your jaw. Swinging your jaw away from the direction of his face, the feel of his lips brushing the shell of your ear makes you shiver. “You do look at him. Tell me, do you fantasize about him?”

Your eyes shut, the warmth of his breath traveling through your trapped body; an aching starting to pulse between your thighs. Hands moving back to rest on his towel covered thighs to help maintain balance, but more importantly to assist in feeling grounded.

“You do, don't you…?” His nose nuzzles at your ear, lips pressing behind your ear. “Is that why you stare? Because you imagine what it would be like to have him inside you?” the arm wrapped around your waist loosens, hand traveling south to the apex of your thighs.

You bite your lip, unable to answer his questions. His touch leaves trails of flames wherever they roam, burning any words from you. His words are simmering your blood.

“Is your silence an admission?” he says with a slight edge to his voice. “You imagine him sliding into you? Taking you? As if you're his?” His grip on your jaw moves to your throat, fingers wrapping deliciously around the smooth muscle and flesh.

“You’ll never be his,” he hisses. The hand between your thighs grips your core tightly, a whine escaping your lips at the slight pain and pleasure. “This,” grip tightening for emphasis, “is mine! Your cunt belongs to me. My cock will be the only one to ever claim it,” Jin growls into your ear, hips pressing his hard member into your ass.

Fuck, that was enough to ruin your underwear. His words release the floodgates, slick escaping your lower lips to soak your panties. The growl rumbling against your back, and vibrating in your ear has your mind blanking for a moment, thighs clenching involuntarily around his wrist.

“Turned on by that?” he crows, self gratification filling every word. “Do you like hearing me claim you? The affirmation that no other man will ever ruin this pretty pussy like me?”

Your breath hitches, a strong pulse running through your body like seismic activity relaying that an eruption is imminent. With the way Jin is rutting into your back, hand gently petting your mound, it was only a matter of time before he had you bursting in ecstasy.

His lips lightly trail up and down the shell of your ear, removing his hand from your throat to grip at your jaw and tilt your face up at him. Faces so close, your noses brush, breaths intermingling. He pulls back his head, looking down at you as the corner of his lip lifts in smirk just as he shoves his other hand under the band of your underwear. Long, warm fingers softly run over your lips, massaging gentle circles into them.

Licking his luscious lips, he hisses when one his fingers swipes between your lips. “Fuck,” he groans, biting his thick lip. “You’re this wet from a few words... '' A finger swirling around your opening, spreading your juices. The digit slides up to your sensitive nub, giving it the same attention. Pressing down with a bit of pressure, rolling it around making you arch your back, eyes clenching.

You feel Jin nudge your nose with his own, brushing his lips against yours. Eyes fluttering open, they meet his dark eyes, completely blow black from his arousal. Pink muscle slipping from his lips, sliding across yours teasingly while his hips slowly press against yours to get a bit of relief as your hands grip the towel resting over his flexing thighs. Your lips part, inviting his devilish tongue in, the prelude of you parting your legs for his length.

Taking the invitation, Jin shoves his tongue into your awaiting mouth. The moist muscle wrestling with yours as you kiss each other desperately. Both of you beyond the point of slow and steady when he shoves two digits into your core, his mouth trapping the groan he rips out of you. With no patience, the digits set a steady pace as his palm presses into your clit. Your hips buck at the sudden onslaught of stimulation. Your lips crash against each other like waves, teeth clacking as you try to get closer.

He pulls back from the kiss provoking a whine from you. His jaw clenches as his fingers fuck into your hole, scissoring your walls, preparing you for him. You press your ass into him, feeling how hard he is, your walls quiver around his fingers.

“No more,” you moan quietly.

“What’s wrong, baby? Too much?” he lazily grins down at you, grinding the palm of his palm down on your nub.

Your eyebrows pinch at the stimulation, lips parting without a sound escaping before you’re able to gather your senses again. “No… no more foreplay.” Your lusty gaze meets his, your chest heaving as you try to even it out. “I want you inside me now,” reaffirming how it was only him you wanted.

He pulls you into a hard kiss, pulling his hand out of your pants. Releasing your jaw, he yanks your pants and underwear down your thighs. Lifting your legs to kick them off, he rotates your bodies to walk you back into the bed, nearly ripping your shirt off you. You almost fall as your legs hit the bed, ripping his lips from yours. You both gasp for air as you stare at each other for a moment.

His hand slides into your hair, scratching soothingly at your scalp before gripping it in a firm hold. Turning your face to the side, he leans in, licking a stripe up your neck to your ear. He takes the lobe of your ear between his teeth teasingly tugging it. Pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear, he nuzzles the hair behind it, breath tickling your ear pleasurably.

“Turn around. I want you bent over this bed, with your ass in the air for me. I want to see how your cunt weeps for me.”

His words strike a hard cord within you, goosebumps appearing all over your flesh. You bite your lip, turning your body away from him and move into position. Feeling it wasn’t enough, he uses the grip on your strands to push you down further into the comforter, back completely arched now.

Strands slipping between his fingers as he removes his hand, the other palms your ass cheek, pulling it to the side to look at your core. The groan that leaves him makes you clench.

“Look how pretty… so wet and inviting. Look how your hole clenches, begging for my dick.” His other hand grabs onto the opposite cheek, pulling it away to open you even more to him. Pressing his hips to yours, he slots his length against your soaked lips. Slowly rubbing his member up and down, lubricating himself with your slick.

Every word makes you clench, the desire raging inside you growing desperate for him to fill you. Every throb of the thick shaft almost makes you delirious.

Eyes previously squeezed shut flutter open, as your hands grip the comforter. A childish print catches your attention, suddenly the realization hits you. You’re back at your childhood home, in a house full of relatives. You weren’t alone in this house, and they weren’t asleep. Now that you had awareness, you could hear them beyond the door chattering. You had let lust get away with you.

“Jin wait…” you hiss.

He stops all movement, one of hands gently petting your lower back. “Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” worry slipping into his words.

“No no. You didn’t hurt me. I just… I realized we’re not alone. We can’t do this here. My family is right out there,” you explain in a loud whisper, trying to look at him over your shoulder.

Silence reigns for a moment.

“So?” Jin's single word pierces the quiet.

“What?” you question, baffled by his nonchalance.

“What does that matter?” He shifts before pressing against you, the head of his cock prodding at your bud. He leans over your back, hands resting on your hips. “It doesn’t bother me, and it never has to you either. You never complain when I fuck you in my office, surrounded by all of our coworkers... our employees.”

You swallow hard.

“In fact, you love initiating it. Teasing me in front of them, riling me up.” His hips thrust, length slipping between your lower lips, cushioned comfortably between them.

“T-that’s different.” you try to argue, but his throbbing manhood against you makes it hard. “Thi-this is my family… who I haven't seen in a long time. I can’t h-have them thinking badly of me.”

He’s quiet but for a minute before wrapping a hand around your mouth. “Then you better keep quiet,” is the quick warning he hisses in your ear as he pushes his length into you.

His hand traps the sound of your yelp. Your walls stretch deliciously but sting at his abrupt intrusion as he buries himself completely. He doesn’t move, allowing you to adjust, placing gentle kisses over your shoulder. His hand massages circles into your hip.

Unable to verbally notify him it was okay to move, you opt for using your hips as you push back against him. Getting the hint, his hips pull back slowly before pushing back in at the same agonizingly passive pace. Lips still pressing kisses to your soft skin, hips lazily snapping into you .

You whine, wanting more.

“Needy already,” he chuckles and places one last kiss to your flesh before standing to his full height. Both hands now resting on your hips, pulling you back so he can grind himself inside your spongy walls. “Remember, not a sound. Your family is out there.”

What a jackass, you can’t help but think as you glare back at him, that damn cocky smile on his lips. You open your mouth to retort but it quickly snaps shut as he pulls back and snaps back in. The action was so hard, you almost thought he’d speared straight into your stomach.

He slides out slowly again before plunging roughly back in. Filling you so completely, each hard impale burning pleasurably. Hands sliding to push your cheeks apart, he watches himself disappear between your folds as he sets a steady pace.

The sound of your sex gushing with each probe of his shaft makes you grow wetter. Slick running down the inside of your thighs, as he pushes it out of you, clit pulsing with each invasion.

It isn’t long before he angles his hips, in search of that spot he enjoys so much. It’s with one particular push that he finds it, as you lifted onto your toes and arched your back signaling him. A whine trapped behind teeth that bite down hard on your lips as he hits it again is all the confirmation he needs.

He sets about burrowing into you, head meeting that patch of spongy tissue over and over;building an inferno in the pit of your stomach with each visit. Your legs begin to tremble as you part your lips.

“H-harder, please,” you quietly moan, almost breathless, trying to keep your volume down.

“Whatever my baby wants, she gets.” His thrusts turn piercing. Hips smacking into yours hard, hands gripping you bruisingly hard. Over the smacks of your hips that filled the room, you can hear him groan softly with each shove. It made you clench around him, causing his hips to stutter briefly before returning to their bruising pace.

“Your pussy is so hot and wet. You're soaking my thighs baby,” he groans out, smacking into you harder. “Squeezing me so tight, begging me to fuck you harder.”

A smack to your behind pulls a yelp from you. Panicking, you bring a hand to cover your mouth, hoping no one heard that. Worry niggling at you again before it’s promptly fucked right out of you by Jin's hips speeding up their brutal pace.

“I wish I could hear you baby,” he rasps, sounding just as breathless as you are. “I want to hear you moan for me… begging to cum… I want to hear you scream my name.”

You feel the bed dip beside you, as he places a foot down. Elevating his leg, he creates a new angle to spear your core. Hands finding purchase above your hips, he anchors his hold, hips pulled back.

“Remember… we don't want to get found out.”

With those words he pushes into you quickly and roughly. Each thrust drags you to and fro on the bed, rubbing your nipples raw against the material. His hips unrelenting in their assault of you. Pistoning deep, making sure to brush your g-spot with each insertion.

His actions have you crying into the comforter, as it catches and cushions your cries, groans and mantras of his name. Hands clenching the material so tight, your fingers were going numb. You wanted to fuck back into him, but his tight grip on you and his brutal pace allowed no room to.

“Fuck your so good to me. Your pussy is so perfect. So tight and warm. And it's. Only. Mine.” Accentuating each word with a sharp thrust. Laying his full claim to your core.

Fingers wrapping in your tangled strands, he guides you to stand, back leaning against his chest as the other hand grips your throat, fingers pressing down on your pressure points. The pressure fueling the fire of your impending orgasm, as the new angle only adds fuel to the already roaring wildfire.

“Who does your cunt belong to?” he growls into your ear.

You hardly breath, nevermind gracing him with an answer. But as he adds pressure to your throat, you gasp out, “You.”

“That’s right,” he moans, self-satisfied, slowing his pace to grind into you slow and deep. “Mine. Only mine to ruin. Only mine to paint with my cum.”

His words hit you hard, as you clench hard around him, groaning in sync with him as waves pulse through you. You were so close, you knew he could tell as the fingers previously tangled in your hair, now pressed circles into the bundle of nerves buried in your folds.

You throw your head back, gasps of air leaving your parted lips. Your nails dig into the sweaty flesh of his thighs, hips bucking back into his. You try your hardest to not be too loud, as your face twists into nothing but pure pleasure.

You were so close, so close you were quietly pleading Jin to cum. His name becomes a prayer on your lips, that fuels his own need. The sound of his name desperately falling from your lips makes him almost feral in the way he fucks you. Plunging into you so hard and fast, that the unmistakable sounds of flesh slapping flesh could be heard through the room, the sound accompanied by the filthy sounds of your dripping arousal.

A guttural moan leaves your lips, as he pinches your bud, which he promptly cuts off by slotting his mouth over yours. Kissing you greedly, wanting to swallow every wanton sound.

The next moment, a fire spreads through your veins, as your whole body seizes at the arrival of your orgasm. Loud moans of pleasure, swallowed as promised by Jin's mouth as he kisses you sloppily. Your hips buck into his digits as they continue to stimulate your nub.

Jin’s hips continue to push through your ever tightening walls and begin to stutter in their assault, just before he pushes deep inside as you feel him paint your walls. Now it’s your turn to ingest all the sounds of his orgasm. The hand around your throat tightens, making you light headed with pleasure, as his other hand over stimulates your nub, thighs tightening to stop him.

Milking himself dry, he soon slows down and comes to a complete stop. Pulling your lips apart, a string of saliva keeps your bruised lips connected. The grip around your hips sustains your standing position, as your legs feel weak post orgasm.

Jin’s ever softening length, slips out of you making you both shiver. Gentle as he could be, he guides you to take a seat on the bed.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you at all?” He looks you over, checking for any bruises from his manhandling.

This is what made him such an amazing lover. How caring he is about his partner after making love to them. It was always so fascinating to see him turn from domineering to self-effacing. Always taking care to ask how you felt after, soothing any places he may have gone too far and holding you gently in his arms.

It simply warms your heart, as you smile up at his broad shouldered form standing before you. Placing a hand over the one he’d placed on your cheek and giving it a reassuring squeeze, you say, “I’m fine, Jin. I always am when I'm with you,”

He beams down at you just before he places a kiss lovingly on your forehead. Thumb caressing your cheek, resting his forehead against yours. A warmth radiating from his eyes as he traps you in his gaze.

“I love you.”

Your heart skips a beat at the words said so simply, stomach a buzz with a storm of bees. You would never tire of hearing him say them to you, always feeling like the first time he’d confessed the depth of his feelings.

“I love you more,” you return, biting your lip giddily.

A smile reaches his eyes, as he grins widely. His cheeks puff up, giving him the look of an adorable squirrel storing acorns. His lips press to yours, no movement necessary. Just a simple press, feeling more intimate than what you had previously been engaged in.

He pulls back with a questioning look in his eyes, when he feels you shiver, almost spilling from his lips before you speak.

“Sorry, um just felt it slipping out of me,” you murmur, embarrassed, eyes not meeting his.

He chuckles, wide shoulders shaking in his mirth. Kissing you again he mutters, “You’re so cute sometimes.”

Slipping an arm around your back and one beneath your knees, he lifts you effortlessly. You wrap your arms around his neck, looking at him in confusion. He ignores your inquisitive eyes, making his way to the door he’d left not long before that led to your en suite bathroom.

“I think we should take a shower.”

“You just had a shower.”

“Yes, but after working up a sweat I need another, and together we can help preserve water.”

You roll your eyes, skeptical of him. “Sure, but no funny business!”

“No promises.”

You disappear into the bathroom with you protesting and Jin laughing.

You had been back home for a couple of days, and it had been enjoyable to say the least. Getting settled in, introducing Jin to more of your family that stopped by when they heard about your return, catching up with the extended family, and even some of your friends who still lived in town.

Jin seemed happy to be able to relax, your family welcoming him completely. He had admitted to you how much he appreciated being welcomed with open arms. He loved how large your family was, and the affection they shared so easily, compared to his small family of just his parents and himself.

You knew he also loved that they ate up his terrible jokes like hotcakes. Not to mention how your mother seemed to love cooking him meals, always blushing when he praised the meals and asking for seconds. It was also obvious how much your family stroked his ego when they complimented his looks. You knew this would be bad once the time came for you to go back to your shared home, ego so inflated you weren’t sure you’d be able to fit in the car with him. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t content at how things had turned out.

You had only gone out once since arriving, taking a stroll through the new town center, hands held in his as he listened attentively to you recount tales of your childhood. Every so often you’d stop and point out a location, describing what once took up residence in the spot of a newly erected business or apartment complex. You had stayed out till the sun had begun to make its descent, ice creams in hand as you walked back to your home.

It was that same evening upon returning home to have dinner with your family—filling your family in on your adventures—that your mother informed you about the state of your favorite place growing up. Feeling your heart drop, as she described it in more detail. When you had made your way to your room afterwards, Jin had stopped you and asked you if you wanted to visit the location. After hearing your mother’s disheartening news you weren’t sure, but Jin simply encouraged you to go see it with your own eyes.

That’s how you now found yourself tripping over a root as you trekked through the small forest not far from your parent’s home. A large hand steadying you before you eat dirt, you murmur a thank you before continuing on your way. It’s not long before you reach a clearing, that only cements your mother’s words as true. Your sad eyes survey the once beautiful lake, now nothing but a public garbage disposal. The water was murky, filled with so much debris and garbage it looked like sludge. The land surrounding the water was no better. The once pristine swimming hole was now a small landfill.

Placing a hand on your shoulder, you feel Jin give you a comforting squeeze. You rest your hand over his, intertwining your fingers, you sigh defeatedly, turning to bury your face in his chest. Wrapping his arms around you, he kisses the crown of your head and lays his cheek on it. The two of you bathe in the silence, all signs of forest life now muted in the wake of the destruction of their home. You doubted anyone even still lived here, the land so completely uninhabitable.

“This place used to be so beautiful,” you muse dejectedly, laying your cheek over his heart. “So full of life…”

Jin glides his fingers through your hair, listening closely.

“As a kid, I used to think this was the secret home of a fairy kingdom. Where a kind prince ruled over his subjects with a gentle fist. Adding color, and brilliance to nature here. At least, that’s the story my mother would tell,” you regale him, hands clutching his thin shirt.

“When she would bring my siblings and I here, and the water shimmered so beautifully, she’d say it was the fairy prince welcoming us to play in his kingdom. And when we’d visit in the evening once the sun had dipped down, balls of blinking lights dancing through the cool air, she’d say they were the fairies dancing in glee at our visit.”

You could feel tears form behind your lash line, tilting your head up as to not let them fall. You feel childish speaking of fairy tales to your fiancé, growing upset to the point you’re about to cry over it. Yet you couldn’t help yourself. This place was such a large part of your childhood, and if you were honest with yourself, it was the place you had been most anxious to visit. To see it destroyed to this degree broke your heart.

Sensing the dive in your emotions, Jin pulls back, taking your face in his hands, eyes roaming over your face in sympathy. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. Maybe we can do something.”

You tilt your head, wondering what he could mean. Blinking up at him, wet lashes sticking together. “What do you mean?”

Placidly smiling down at you, his thumb wipes away the stray tears beneath your eyes. “I don’t know, maybe we could try to clean up. Try to restore it to its former glory,” he shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets, eyes sweeping the clearing.

You stupidly blink at him, mouth slightly ajar. Your heart begins to swell with so much affection that it feels as if it could pop out of your chest. The waterworks come back full force, lips trembling with emotion.

Noticing your silence he glances back to you, eyes widening with panic, hands hovering in front of him in uncertainty. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Was it something I said?”

Shaking your head, you throw your arms around him. Burrowing your face into his neck, standing on your tiptoes. “I love you so much,” you tearfully declare.

He returns your hold, lifting you up, an affectionate smile pulling at his plump lips. “What’s all this for, you big softie?” he teasingly murmurs.

“I just… I just feel so lucky to be with you.” You can’t help the emotions pouring out of you, unable to keep them inside when it comes to him. You weren’t sure what you had done in this life to deserve him, but you swore to whatever entity was out there that you would prove yourself worthy of him. For all the days you were gifted with being by his side, you would be the best partner possible.

“Well you are pretty blessed to look upon this handsome face every day.”

You smack his arm, body shaking with restrained laughter. “You’re incorrigible!” you exclaim, barely containing the joy glowing on your face.

Windshield wiper screeches fill the air, as he backs away from you rubbing at the spot you’d hit. His laugh was something uniquely him that always called attention. No matter whether you found it odd, or not, it always made you join him. It was a trait you found completely endearing.

Your laughs begin to quiet, a few residual chuckles escaping you. You look at each other, affection and mirth mirroring one another.

“Did you really mean it?”

He hums questioningly, raising his brows.

“About trying to clean up here?”

“Of course, I do,” he nods. “We’ve still got a few more days left here. We can go buy industrial trash bags, maybe some equipment to help us pick up the garbage, and we’ll definitely need some protection,” he continues to list off.

A smile growing on your own lips, you hug his arm, squirming against him excitedly. “Okay! Let’s do it!”

“Yeah?” he questions, amused at your behavior. You nod enthusiastically and chuckle, beginning to walk off. “Well, what are we waiting for? No time like the present right?”

You agree, a pep to your step excitedly discussing the possibility of hopefully saving a part of your childhood.

“It’s so hot!” you whine, stretching your aching back as you wipe the sweat from your forehead. You roll your neck, trying to loosen your tense muscles from being hunched over with the trash pick-up stick.

Since your first visit to the Fae Kingdom, which you had taken to calling it affectionately, you had spent the last few days clearing the area around the body of sludge. It was hard labor and the two of you always arrived home sorely exhausted, passing out as soon as your bodies hit the bed. On a couple of occasions, your siblings joined you carrying some of the workload.

Thanks to their help and the determination to see things through, you were actually able to now see the floor of the hidden glade. There wasn’t much trash left, so you were currently taking care of what was left while Jin was using a pool skimmer to collect the junk in the lake.

It was a particularly sunny, and humid day. The air felt incredibly thick with moisture, making it a bit harder to breathe. Not to mention how you were sweating buckets. You had both shed some layers, hating how uncomfortable it felt to have the fabric sticking to your skin.

After complaining about the heat, you toss your stick on the ground, making your way over to a small blanket you laid out to take breaks. Lowering onto your knees, you grab a bottle of water and take a generous gulp. The cool liquid soothes your rising body temperature. Capping the bottle, you roll it on your forehead, trying to cool yourself down.

Rolling back on your knees, you land with a soft thud on your behind, enjoying the shade the tall trees provided. Taking a deep breath, you release it slowly before choking on it. Coughing violently, as your eyes almost bug out of your head.

Standing about ten feet in front of you, by the edge of the water was a broad shouldered god. Muscles flexing beneath lightly sun kissed skin, beads of sweat rolling down his back, burly arms bulging with each bend as he lifts the skimmer out of the water.

How in the hell was this herculean man real?

You sigh in awe, before looking up, hands clasped together as you whisper a thank you up above.

“What are you doing?”

You jump as his voice breaks the quiet atmosphere. Your eyes hastily fall on him as you reply in a high pitch, “Nothing!” Your cheeks begin to warm, staining with embarrassment.

His brows pinch, not fully believing you. Shaking his head, he turns to shake the skimmer into a large black bag. Setting it to the side, he swipes sweat off his brow. He turns and makes his way to you, pulling the work gloves off his large hands, stuffing them in the back pocket of his dark jeans. Coming to a stop at the edge of the blanket, he crouches down reaching his hand out for a drink.

Leaning back, you pull a cool bottle out of the cooler and hand it to him. You watch as he takes a large swig, before swiftly emptying the rest over his head. Brushing his hair back, his dark eyes rest on you. One corner of his plush lips pulls up at the unhidden admiration on your face.

“Come here.” He crooks a finger, signalling you closer.

You blink, lifting up and shuffling on your knees over to him. His hand locks behind your neck pulling you in to steal a kiss, lips brushing yours affectionately. One of your hands finds purchase on a burly shoulder to steady yourself. He pulls back, placing a succession of quick pecks over your pouting lips, pulling giggles out of you.

“I’m sorry. I suddenly realized I hadn't kissed the most beautiful woman today. It had to be quickly amended.”

A large grin breaks over your face at his cheesy words.

“You’re such a charmer, Mr. Kim.”

His eyes flash, tongue swiping over his thick lower lip. “Am I? Does that mean I can charm you out of these?” he teases, fingers tugging at your shorts.

You swallow hard, painfully aware of the warm thrum between your thighs. Biting your lip, a protest on the tip of your tongue threatens to expose the unabashed yearning of your heat.

Before you can utter a word, his lips are yours again. The hand behind your neck pulls you closer as he leans over you. A hand on your waist guides you to lie on the blanketed ground, his knee nudging your legs apart to settle between them comfortably. He kisses you languishly, hand releasing your soft strands and sliding to your cheek as he rests his weight on the arm placed by your head. Hips grinding in lazy circles against your mound, drawing a quiet moan.

Suffice to say all thoughts of the heat are replaced by a different kind of heat as your hands slide up the plane of muscles you had been admiring not long ago. You feel every flex of his back as his hips continue their languorous movements. You bend your knees, widening the space for him invitingly.

It’s as his hand descends to take hold of your left breast that you hear something in the distance. You ignore it thinking maybe it was a rustling branch or bush. Giving your breast a squeeze, Jin spreads even more heat to your core, and just as you’re about to groan your breath hitches as the sounds are closer this time.

“Jin! Sis! Are you guys here?”

Your eyes bug open, staring into Jin's equally stunned gaze before you both spring apart. A tangle of limbs, wrestling to separate from each other. It’s when you’re finally sitting in your own personal spaces that you notice a hitch in your situation. Jin’s erection was pitching a lovely tent in his semi loose jeans. His hands covered it, a pained look on his face as he cursed. Hearing the crunch of leaves close by springs you into action just as your siblings walk out of the tree line.

“Oh there you guys are,” the oldest declares, pointing you out to the others.

You smile over at them innocently from your position between Jin's legs, back resting against his naked chest, his arms resting around your waist. You both wave at them, thanking powers at be for the humidity today helping to disguise your flushed skin.

“Oh, hey! We didn’t know you guys were coming by today.” Jin greets nonchalantly, raising an arm to wave at them.

“Well,” the youngest speaks up this time, hand rubbing the back of their neck, ”we weren’t going to but when we realized what the weather was like out, we couldn’t let you guys deal with it all alone.”

You can’t help but smile at them in appreciation. “Thank you guys, you really didn’t have to.”

“This is our waterhole, we have to help too,” your middle sibling declares, pounding a fist into their chest dramatically.

You roll your eyes as they grin at you.

“Well let’s get to it, fam!” cheers the youngest.

“We’ll join you in a moment, just taking a short break,” you inform them.

“No worries, take your time. This heat is no joke.” They wave you off as they set up their equipment and bags.

You realise a sigh, reiterating your thanks as they go about cleaning. You watch them a moment before twisting your head to the side. “You wanna get a hold on yourself now?” you hiss over your shoulder. Jin’s prominent erection poking at your back, showing no signs of deflating any time soon.

He wraps his arms around you pulling closer. “I can’t help it, not when that perfect ass keeps pushing back on me.” he whispers into your ear. “And did you know your shoulders turn me on too? They’re so perfect for grabbing onto when I fuck into you from be-”

A yelp of pain gets your sibling’s attention, heads swiveling to look over you guys. Jin folded over, hand clutching at his right side where you’d elbowed him.

“He’s got a stitch in his side from cleaning out the lake. Sorry to scare you guys,” you give as an explanation, waving off their concerned gazes. Feeling bad, your oldest sibling decides to take over lake duty, telling you guys to take your time resting.

You nod gratefully, before turning your attention back to the frustratingly handsome man behind you. “Get a hold of yourself! Or you won’t be touching me for the next week!”

He looks at you in indignation, sputtering to find a response. “You can’t do that! We leave in a few days! We can finally go back to loud unfiltered sex!”

You twist around and smack a hand over his mouth. “I’m not kidding! Get it together, my siblings are here,” your eyes blazing with intent.

He removes your hand as he clears his throat. A playful glint in his eyes before he opens his obnoxious mouth. “You know you’re hot when you’re angry?” he manages before breaking out into his signature high pitched laugh.

Face flushing in annoyance, you smack his bare arm. “Fine! Good luck hiding it on your own!” you fume, leaning forward to push yourself up.

You don’t get far, as he cages you quickly with his arms, pulling you back against him, a panicked no permeating the humid air. You huff, as you feel the wind almost knock out of you at the force he uses to pull you back into place.

“Well are you gonna behave?” an unsaid ultimatum weaved into the question.

“Ah! It’s not my fault you’re so attractive! How can you blame me like this!” he continues to whine, like a petulant child not allowed to play with their favorite toy.

The pair of you continue to bicker, as your siblings slave away in restoring the clearing. It’s not long before they grow hot, exhausted by the muggy air engulfing them. Their patience and kindness waning, complaints for you both to hurry and join them—which you promptly do, with bottles of water in hand to help them cool down. Your small group makes quick work of the left over trash, as Jin takes care of what’s left in the lake.

The sun was just beginning it’s descent, stars just barely dotting across the darkening sky, when your small rag tag group finally finished; spent bodies leaning on each other, as weary eyes surveyed your hard work. It wasn’t what it once was, but it looked damn well on its way there and you couldn’t help the happy tears that brimmed your waterline. The arm around your shoulder gives you a quick squeeze, Jin's voice filling the air thanking everyone for their hard work.

The evening chill that cools your sweat soaked layers has the small group shivering. Giving the place one last sweep, you all agree to high tail it back for much needed showers and rest.

Tomorrow would be your last full day there and you wanted to make sure of one last thing. You would be trying to find a way to purify the lake water. You had been doing research and had read about techniques aiming to bring a lake back to or closer to man-made undisturbed conditions. You had found a lake restoration company not far outside of the town. Jin had already agreed to accompany you, willing to help in any way possible as you brought it up before going to bed that night. You had happily accepted, beholden by the revival of the Fae Kingdom.

The night was comfortably warm, filled with happy chatter in the beautiful glade. Fairy lights lit the area in a soft glow as many visitors sat around the lake, eating meals they had just pulled off grills or brought with them from home. Small clusters of families or couples relaxed after a day of fun and thrills.

Somewhere someone had brought a speaker, a soft pop melody permeating the air, as you quietly sing along to it, swaying in your fiance’s arms, his own angelic voice serenading you. Your family surrounded you, their loud boisterous laughs bringing you joy and comfort.

It had been a year since your visit, a year of the lake restoration working its magic. A year of love and care for the watering hole, which was almost a mirror of its former glory. Beautiful shades of green once more filling in patches of the ground, all the colors of the rainbow blooming, giving the space vibrance and life. There were signs of life all around you as creatures began to inhabit the area once more.

But the most amazing part is being able to witness the breathtaking globes of light that dance before your eyes. Soft, blinking lights that waltz around, unbothered by the visitors. The fairies had returned, they had come back home to their kingdom.

“They’re happy.”

“Huh,” you ask dumbly, breaking out of your reverie.

“The fairies, they’re happy to see you,” he voices.

A tender smile rests on his lips when you turn to him. He remembered. The childish story you had told him. And it’s in that moment, with blinking lights reflecting around him that you come to a realization.

“You’re the fairy prince. Well, you’re my real fairy prince,” you admit quietly.

He looks down at you, eyes searching yours before placing a kiss on the tip of your nose and pulling your back flush against him.

“I guess that makes you the future princess of the Fae Kingdom.”

You cling to his arms happily, taking in the gorgeous scenery before you.

“Besides, it only makes sense that someone as good looking as me is royalty.”

“And there goes the moment,” you grumble as you leave the safe space of his arms to join your family in their merriment.

“Hey! You know it’s true!” he exclaims, chasing after you, accompanied by a squeaking laugh.

#btscreatorscorner #bangtansorciere #purplearmynet #bts x reader #kim seokjin x reader #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #bts jin x reader #ksj #kim seokjin #bccsg

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btscreatorscorner · 3 years

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October Gallery Walk (Summer Games Edition)

The Summer Games was a riveting 3 month long event, taking place the entire summer season. With a variety of participants, the winners displayed here managed to beat out the rest of the competition and amass the most points! The works displayed here, handpicked by the authors themselves, are a celebration to them for all their hard work! Please check out the stories below!

🥇 @chemicalpink— Trust Fund Baby

↳ Pairing: Kim Seokjin x reader

↳ Genre: Fluff + Softcore Smut with a side of Comedy

↳ Word Count: 6.1k

↳ Warnings: includes softcore porn, mc cries during sex bc too much feelings, fake engagement, Jin’s mum dislikes YN

↳ Synopsis: ❝Kim Seokjin is the biggest Trust Fund Baby, it is no secret but he’s almost thirty and on the line to inherit his dad’s CEO position, which makes his family set a deadline for his engagement or he loses it all.❞

Read here!

🥈 @lavienjin — Cruise Control

↳ Pairing: street racer!namjoon x doctor!reader

↳ rating/genre/au: 18+ | street racing au | smut, fluff, v lil angst

↳ Word Count: 13,681

↳ Warnings: blood • depictions of injury • swearing • explicit smut in the forms of: unprotected sex • fingering • creampie

↳ Synopsis: ❝Clumsy by nature, Namjoon often comes into your hospital for the smallest of injuries; results from his foolish driving as he races in the streets or from his job at the auto body shop. You remind him often enough to be careful, but never — not even in your worst nightmares — could you imagine that the limp and bloodied figure lying on the operating table is the same one that had just asked you out on a date.❞

Read Here!

🥉 @bluewhale52 — Dopegirl.com

↳ Pairing: Yoongi x camgirl

↳ Genre: idol!au, camgirl!au

↳ Word Count: 1.7k

↳ Warnings: OC is a camgirl, voyeurism, masturbating (f and m), use of a toy, cursing

↳ Synopsis: ❝Someone is a big fan of Cypher Pt. 2❞

Read Here!

Congrats to the winners!! Also a big congratulations to all other participants, it’s been a great summer!

#bcc gallery walk #gallery walk October #bcc summer games #bccsg #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #seokjin #namjoon #yoongi #bts fanfic

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yoonieper · 3 years

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Pecattiphila— Part 1 | PJM

Pecattiphilia is the sexual arousal from performing an act one believes is a sin.

✽ Pairing: Jimin x Reader

✽ Genre: Angel Au, angst, tiny bit of fluff, tiny bit of smut

✽ Rated: S for Can You See Me?

✽ Series Warnings: This series will include discussion of religious aspects such as the afterlife and concepts of heaven and hell (There are no direct ties to any specific religion besides the mention of angels and demons— all aspects of religion was created by me for this series), this series includes a lot of violence (sometimes graphic depictions) and possible gore, and mentions of sin (particularly revolving around sexual topics)

✽ Chapter Specific Warnings: Jimin might be a sadist or masochist (who knows 🥴), that man finds a little too much pleasure in taking down bad guys if you get my drift, near death experience, y/n’s pretty scared by it (possible anxiety warning), Jimin’s got some spicy thoughts about y/n (nsfw), he can get kinda detailed, Jimin gets very very sick (so basically warning— sick symptoms ahead), also Jimin speaks about sin a lot and repenting, these warnings are so random omg

✽ Word Count: 6.3k

✽ Summary: Jimin is sent to watch over you and as the years go by he gets more and more curious and sometimes just wishes he could get to know you. But he knows that’s forbidden. However, a freak accident somehow causes Jimin and your eyes to meet for the first time with purpose. He knows it shouldn’t happen but he doesn’t want to break away. He wants you to look at him, wants you to touch him, wants you to be with him. The problem is none of this should have happened in the first place… what’s happening to him?

✽ Now Playing…: Sin City by Chrishan (slowed)

✽ Author’s Note: This series is very precious to me as this is the first bts au I created! It got pushed back as I was working on another project at the time, that still needs to come out here on tumblr, but ehhh enough about that! Let's keep the train rolling! I'm also using this for @btscreatorscorner Summer Games event (AU challenge)

No reposting, modifying. Translating is not allowed unless given explicit permission. Thank you so much :D

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Jimin stared at the mundane creature that stood before him. It’s blob of a body seemed to have no end nor beginning— it was an amalgamation of darkness. Eyes covered the slimy creature almost as if it had swallowed them itself with the way they were floating in the mass of darkness and arms that hung low on its body.

A sight like this would send any mortal running for their lives, but for Jimin, this was any other Thursday afternoon.

Jimin couldn’t help the smirk as he watched the tormented creature.

Power.

I love it.

Some may call him a masochist or even a sadist, but he always enjoyed these fights. The work, the battle, the pain, and then at the end when he can sink a weapon of his choice and crucify these demonic creatures, fills him up with so much excitement, it’s almost sexual. He likes to think of it more as a guilty pleasure than anything.

This monstrosity was just an average Joe compared to some of the things he’s seen. Jimin has had to deal with a lot worse in his career, but this wasn’t just gonna be a walk in the park, no, this would take a little work to bring this creature down. At least there was that.

You wanted more.

I did.

Jimin took out his handle. The creature noticed he was getting ready to attack and began to charge at him, it’s comically long arms dangled behind it as it made its way toward him. He quickly spun it so certain pictures matched up, the faint clicks only audible to Jimin’s ears, letting him know exactly which combination it was on without having to look down once. Suddenly a beam of light shaped like a sword came.

A sword will do. It didn’t deserve anything more than that.

Jimin quickly flew up and the battle was on. It didn’t take long but the creature was a little more than what Jimin expected. That still didn’t stop the fact that a couple slashes from his sword and a few shots from smgs the creature began losing its shape, nothing more than a gargling blob needing to be but out of its misery.

He stood over its form. A quick jab of his sword right where its face used to be was enough to end it all. He smirked as a bright white light filled the endless void and the screams of the creature sent shivers down his body. It happens everytime.

As the adrenaline started to fade, Jimin was shocked to feel a slight sting coming from his arm. He looked down and low and behold, somewhere in the battle he was scratched by the creature. It wasn’t too big and honestly it was a little impressive that he got away with just this considering what he was up against.

The slight blood from the wound did make him realize the extent of the mess. The black goop was everywhere. This void was endless but there were traces of it in any direction he looked.

You like it.

…

Jimin could sit here and monitor to make sure this was the last of the creature but he had priorities, and those priorities were you.

You.

Y/L/N Y/N.

You.

In earth time it has been a little over 5 years since he first started watching over you. It’s been an interesting few years to say the least and he’s honestly loved every second of it. He looked forward to each day he got to spend with you. And now… now he has to hurry to catch you before you get home.

Jimin’s about to save your life. He’s looked forward to this day ever since the itinerary was given to him.

Before Jimin knew it, he was flying high above the city of Seoul. He looked down at his device to see the time was approaching. His heart skipped a beat feeling the butterflies in his stomach.

You’re nervous.

Shut up…

But it was true, he was nervous to do this. And not even for the reason he should be.

Down below was you, walking happily, listening to music. Today was just one of those days that the sun was shining brighter, the birds seemed chirpier, and the stars aligned to make this day the greatest. It was a Friday, it was payday, and you just got a promotion. Today was your day, and a great one at that.

You smiled as you looked down at your phone, humming along to your favorite tune while you were looking for your next song. The world around you seemed to disappear as you continued to walk down the sidewalk. It came as a complete shock, and honestly put a damper on your mood, when you felt the graze of someone’s shoulder, making you drop your phone from the force.

At first you just stared, completely taken aback, but anger quickly boiled up within your system and you turned around to give this rude person a piece of your mind.

“Hey?!” You exclaimed, but all you saw was a guy in a leather jacket and baseball cap. He had turned around slightly and you knew he was looking at you. You could hardly make out his face, and was tempted to chase after him, when suddenly you heard screams.

You quickly turned around to see an out of control car coming straight for you. Time seemed to slow as you were frozen in fear, but it was like magic that the car suddenly changed directions and ended up continuing straight ahead and eventually hitting a wall a little ahead of you.

Your heart was racing, pounding louder than you ever thought possible, because you were this close. The car had been coming straight at you, you were this close to being pinned between that car and a wall.

The thought created a fear that no one should ever experience, especially at such a young age. You were staring your own mortality right in the eye. And what you saw had you moving your feet so quickly, hurrying your way home, anxiety and paranoia increasing with each step that you took.

Jimin was not far behind. He never was.

He could feel how scared you were and he wanted nothing more than to fly down, pick you up, and tell you it’s going to be okay. But he knew his place.

Jimin followed behind until you were scurrying back into your apartment building. You were safe and sound, even if you didn’t feel like it, you just didn’t know he was watching over you. He liked to think that would put a smile on your face in moments where he just wanted to reach out and comfort you.

He floated down, watching you come into your apartment, kick off your shoes, and hurry to your room. He could already feel the overwhelming sense of sadness that let him know you were likely crying. The emotions were too much, both yours and his own, so he flew over to the building across the street and sat on top of the roof, a favorite spot of his to come and think.

Much reflection was needed.

There were so many things wrong with what’s happened to him in the 5 years since he started serving as your guardian. He knew it wasn’t right, that he was just torturing himself by not stopping it sooner.

He shouldn’t even be feeling this way at all. The buzz of giddiness from his intervention earlier still flowed through his body, and it pained him on how erroneous it felt.

In short, these 5 years have given Jimin the opportunity to feel and experience emotions he never thought were possible for him anymore.

He likes her.

No need to spell it out…

But it’s right. It was true. He really did like you. He liked you more than a guardian ever should and that fact has made him question his entire existence and has put him through some extremely complicated and confusing situations over the years.

When he first switched with the P1 angel, he already had considered himself lucky just from seeing your picture. Sure you’re not the first beautiful person that he’s looked over, but from the get go Jimin knew there was something different here. It did not take him long to understand what it was.

You made his heart flutter in a way he’s felt so many of his humans experience when looking at people that they care about to that extent.

You were funny. He would often join you during your tv binges and your commentary would have him on the floor dying of laughter. You were so caring and nice and…

Do you really need to go on?

Why are you so loud today?

Anyway, it’s really no surprise that Jimin was suddenly getting butterflies anytime you accidentally looked in his direction.

But that was exactly the problem.

This wasn’t allowed at all.

At. All.

None of it, from the rules of H.E.A.V.E.N and his own personal rules he has with his team, none of this has been allowed. It really shouldn’t even be possible in the first place.

The relationship between guardians and humans is one that is very sacred. It is something that is meant to be kept strictly professional, for the reasons of 1) the inevitable end that guardians bring to humans and any feelings would make the process a lot more complicated 2) unless for emergency purposes or a human is nearing death, and type of interaction between a guardian and human is strictly prohibited.

He shouldn’t be anywhere near this territory, but even though he’s far from human, the remnants still remain buried deep within and there’s somethings that he can’t get rid of no matter how hard he tries.

At least that’s what he’s been telling himself these past few years.

As soon as Jimin came onto the harsh reality that you will never look at him at all, he tried his best to demean his feelings as nothing more than what humans feel toward certain celebrities.

Of course in the hypothetical sense, if for some reason he wasn’t who he was and was a normal human, if you met in normal circumstances, would he date you? Absolutely, no questions asked. He would say yes in a heartbeat. But reality sets in and he remembers that there are rules that he must abide by plus everything in the universe that just wouldn’t allow for that to happen in the first place, it really just amounts to a fantasy.

He will watch and admire from afar. Feelings are hard to control, as much as he’s tried his best to, that human side of him will never go away. But it’s ok.

You’re not the first human he’s liked. Yes to the extent his feelings go, you’re the first he’s ever liked this much, but he’s dealt with a fluttery heart or two and by now knows exactly what to do. Sure you were also the first that he’s had to look over but he just needs to do what he normally does. Maintain that professional distance.

You were a dream. He can live with that.

That’s what you keep telling yourself.

Stop. I’m serious.

Anyway, it’s not that interactions between humans and Angels were banned completely, it’s just that’s where the personal side of his problem comes in.

Like he’s mentioned, despite him being an Angel or any of the human reincarnates, some human qualities still continued to follow them into this new life. One of them being um well…

It wasn’t uncommon during breaks that Angel teams would typically come to Earth and hang out. Most Angels weren’t shy about intermingling with humans. It’s something that’s frowned upon by the P1 Angels as they honestly see everything that human reincarnates do as primitive and sinful. But true to humans, their words did not stop most teams from having some fun the minute they got some time off.

However, Jimin’s team was an exception. A promise with the boys he cherishes more than anything always kept him far away from any of those feelings.

It started when they were relatively new into the field. They made a promise to stay away from humans as much as they could in order to maintain focus on their careers. But it was much much later that they realized the effectiveness of that promise.

He’s not trying to brag (he’s bragging), but Jimin’s team was one of the most successful of all the human reincarnates. They had some of the highest rates when it comes to their statistics, happy long living humans, who went on to continue to live happy lives in their next.

It was later that they reinstated this promise and it’s importance. They believe that their low human interaction and abstinence was a reason for their success.

Jimin’s never had an issue with this, not once, if anything he sometimes thought of other teams similar to the P1 angels. He used to judge why they would partake in such sinful acts when they have a job to do.

He’s never been tested of his loyalty to that promise as hard as he’s been over the course of looking over you.

He’s had urges. That’s not new. Under all the special powers and wings, it’s the shell of what was once human. It happens. He just never realized how strong those urges could get sometimes…

Jimin had cleverly named this rough period of time the boyfriend era. He could already feel his cheeks lighting up at the mere thought of it.

Everything about that time made him so embarrassed and honestly a little ashamed. He just couldn’t mind his own damn business.

You had gotten a boyfriend some years ago and he’s abashed to admit this, but he’s been there to see and hear everything. It would be different if it was accidental, but no, this was a different story.

It wasn’t uncommon for him to join you in your apartment from time to time as he liked “hanging out” with you. The first time it happened, it was you, your boyfriend, and him (unknown to you of course). Jimin had wanted to watch the movie you both planned to see in your apartment, he had been so into it, that it came as a major surprise when he looked over to see things were quickly escalating on the other side of the couch.

Jimin normally would leave, give you the privacy you deserved, never should he have been that nosy just because of his feelings, but seeing you like that for some reason kept him in place as he watched as things got progressively more and more heated. You were so pretty, so beautiful, and the sounds you would make as your boyfriend would please you, had blood rushing to more places than one.

It was sin, so much sin.

Everything about what happened was wrong and to make matters worse, that wasn’t the last time he stayed to watch. Far from it actually. Despite everything, every single thing that was telling him he shouldn’t be doing this, the urge… It kept getting worse.

He never even saw anything most of the time, you would always make your way to your bedroom and he at least had some dignity to never follow, but there was one time that he was right on the couch again but you both never moved it. At that point he reached a point he never thought he would.

The urge, the urge to just reach out and…

He wanted you bad.

He realized this before but, it felt at that moment that all the sexual frustration he’s experienced throughout his life as an angel had come overflowing and he even wholeheartedly considered making himself appear, throwing off your boyfriend and having you to himself because it was something he knew he could do so much better. He knew he could make you feel so good like he knew you deserved. He wanted it to be his name you would scream, his name you’re calling out for, he wanted to be the one that was making you feel good.

But it was a fantasy.

He knew that.

Despite how hard it has been, never in a million years would it happen.

He can dream. It’s fine. He knows his place in all of this, but never would you look at him like that. You can’t even see him for that to happen…

Still he was a little too happy when you broke up with him about 2 years after your relationship started.

The most excitement he will get in a while was what happened today.

He felt his whole body light up at the thought. The graze of your shoulder against his was enough to fuel those fantasies and keep him happy for a long time. Was he fine with that? He was, he genuinely was.

Part of him used to think it was some sort of cruel fate for putting him in this position. But now he sees it as more of a blessing. It makes him happy knowing it’s him in charge of protecting you, serving you, and making your life as bright as it can be.

At least in that way he has trust you’ll live a good life as long as he’s around.

He’ll make sure of it.

Jimin smiled and flew over to your apartment, easily passing through the wall and making his way toward your bedroom. His mood solumned as he felt his heart ache as the soft cries grew louder and louder as he got closer. You were in bed, your face buried in your pillow as the traumatizing event kept replaying in your mind.

It was in these moments that it was hardest to resist reaching out and talking with you. He wanted to tell you everything would be alright as long as he’s here, and you have nothing to fear.

But alas…

He took a seat on the side of your bed and gently stroked your arm. You couldn’t feel anything and he couldn’t either but the effect seemed to calm you down for some reason that was not his doing. He wanted to pretend that it was though.

Jimin went over to the other side of your bed and laid next to you. Your teary eyes were staring right into his, but you didn’t know that. You were looking right through him. He brought his hand up to your cheek and began caressing it slowly.

“Don’t cry,” he whispered.

It was sometimes in moments like these that made him feel like maybe it was better that your worlds can’t really interact. Even though he knew it was because of him that you’re still here, it was also him for the reason that you’re crying.

Fear.

It was him even though it wasn’t. It’s an excuse he likes to give himself for a reason why you wouldn’t like him even if you did ever meet. He knows you would be scared.

Jimin just continued to comfort you, be there for you, in a time he can already tell that will stick with you for a long time.

The hours seemed to pass and before he knew it you had gone to shower, leaving him on your couch, blankly staring at the tv screen. The show continued to play even with your absence, one that he knows you’ll regret when you get back.

Jimin sighed and got up to look out the window. He tuned out the TV and the only remaining noise he could hear was the city nightlife that came with Seoul and the brief hums of nature from the wildlife outside. It was calming, so calming it was enough to lull anyone to sleep, and knowing you, the minute you got back from your shower and sat down you would be out. Even Jimin was getting tired, and he didn't get tired. Today’s just been a weird day.

A good and bad weird.

You nearly died, but Jimin got to touch you for the first time which was nice.

Of course that’s what you’re focusing on.

How could I not?

You don’t think it’s concerning?

…

You know what you need.

He sighed knowing it was true.

Watching something 24/7 can easily get to anybody, angels alike. It takes a lot of dedication in order to stay alert all the time, while also having to follow them around for more mundane things. It can easily start feeling a bit monotonous after some time. That’s not exactly what Jimin’s experiencing now, but he knew he was getting overwhelmed being around you all the time, and for his own sake, there was a method they used to get over this.

A break.

He didn’t like to do this too often, and especially now that he’s looking over you, he would always be worried that something terrible could happen without him being there. However, with the way he’s feeling, getting away is exactly what he needed.

Some time to take a breather and repent and purify from the sins he’s committed all thanks to you.

Jimin looked down at his wrist, the word ‘sin’ seemingly shining because of his guilty conscience. His record has never been so tainted…

He quickly figured tomorrow would be the best day to leave for a second. His assignment had just been carried out, they would not give him another this soon. Though it was possible, Jimin knew he had to go.

He needed to get you out of his head. Once and for all. Though he’s not sure exactly how long you will live, he's got to be 100% in this if he’s going to see this through.

Yep. Tomorrow…

If you can make it that long.

Stop.

So much sin.

Please don’t do this.

If only the others could see you now. They would be disappointed.

The words hurt because he knew it was true. Jimin hadn’t really told the rest of his team about the extent his feelings for you go. Reason? It was simple. He didn’t want to be judged, by them, the other angels, literally everyone.

What he’s feeling shouldn’t even be possible really. He knew they wouldn’t understand, or worse, separate him from you.

It’s just better to ride it out until he’s safely taken you to get judged. The feelings will fade and things will go back to normal. No need to make it a thing.

They would see the sin.

Why are you doing this to me?

You need to see yourself. It’s sad honestly.

Jimin wanted to scream. Why does this need to be so difficult? He gazed at the night sky.

No matter what you say, this is wrong. You should not feel like this.

I know.

And he did.

You need to tell someone. This should not be possible.

But that would make things complicated…

You’re broken and you know that.

It was true.

I am.

Talk to someone.

…

Jimin thought about it. It was right in the sense that everything he’s experiencing shouldn’t be happening at all, and just to be safe, maybe it might be a good idea to get evaluated. He should have done it a long time ago, it’s just… He’s scared. Scared for you, scared for himself, scared for his team. He doesn’t know what they might say or do.

But it might be something. Either way he’s screwed.

Just do it.

For the first time since he started feeling this way he genuinely considered it.

But then there was you.

Like always.

Jimin turned around to see you had gotten out of the shower. Your towel hung haphazardly around your form, hair tied up with a towel, and your skin still glistening from the water.

Fuck.

Calm down.

He knew you were just out here to catch the new episode of the show you were watching, and shower time had run into the start of the episode. Nothing about it was weird, but Jimin couldn’t help but laugh at the cruelty of it all. It’s like the world wants him to lose his mind.

Jimin smiled. It’s almost like you want him to lose his mind.

He chuckled. If only… It was a cute thought.

You were just so pretty it hurts sometimes. Jimin sighed and was about to join you on the couch as this was the show he was watching with you when…

BANG

The loud thud made you jump, but that was nothing in comparison to the scream you let out seeing a body sprawled out on your floor.

What the fuck

WHAT THE FUCK

WHAT THE FUCK?!!!

You clutched onto your towel, frozen in fear, your eyes forced to look at the person in the middle of your living room.

…

The wings.

Suddenly the man that had seemingly collapsed on your floor meant nothing as your eyes focused on the white wings that were protruding from his back.

You would have thought this to be a dream, your traumatic event earlier causing an angel to appear in your sleep, but the beautiful shimmer that the feathers admitted you knew was incapable of your imagination to come up with.

You stood there for what felt like a century waiting for something to happen, anything to happen, but the beautiful creature continued to lay face flat into your floor.

Should you call the police?

Of course, a mystery guy is lying on your floor, you gotta do something…

Would they believe you? You knew that answer imagining the phone call.

But what if you’re in danger? What happens when it wakes up? If it wakes up… But if you don’t you just have a body in your room and if it doesn’t wake up then, what do you do?

With your mind running a million miles an hour you completely forgot you were still just in your towel.

You quickly run and put on your clothes but also use this time to come up with a game plan. When you were done you ran out to your kitchen, and pulling a rapunzel, you grabbed a frying pan and headed back to see that indeed your problem was still there.

Today is just the worst fucking day ever.

You almost died and now you have an angel in the middle of your floor.

It was ironic, almost hilarious. You would laugh about it later, but now…

The realization had tears quickly pooling in your eyes. Suddenly the all too familiar movie series Final Destination was all you could think about. Maybe this was a sign. Maybe it means you’re gonna die. Death was finally catching up to you. The idea was rash but at the time, you really felt like it was your end.

You paced around your living room hoping something would happen. Best chase scenario this is just a really vivid dream and everything will be ok when you wake up, but as the hours passed, with no change, that hope started to dwindle into fear.

What were you gonna do?

With one deep breath you suddenly found yourself on the floor right beside the creature. Maybe you could help? You poked him gently, waiting for anything. Nothing. The adrenaline of the worst case scenario flashed in your mind and it had you hastily flipping him over in hopes of… something.

You stared in awe. He was beautiful. He was too beautiful, beautiful to the point that no human would be capable of. His delicate features were almost too perfect, his plump lips, cute nose, and long brown hair had you in a trance almost.

He was also wearing relatively normal clothes considering the situation. A white short sleeved shirt that was decorated with a few gold accents was draped over his torso, and white flowy pants that were tied together by a piece of fabric. He also wasn’t wearing any shoes oddly enough.

He really just seemed to be peacefully sleeping, and a wave of relief and a bit of worry washed over you as you watched his chest rise and fall slowly. He’s alive.

You lightly stroked his cheek, an urge that came out of nowhere, but a request you fulfilled. Was your eyes playing tricks on you or was he glowing? A soft shimmer seemed to radiate him. Wow.

Suddenly the wings you couldn’t take your eyes off of disappeared and his eyes began to flutter open. You watched with amazement as he slowly opened his eyes, the colors changing rapidly, before settling on a warm brown.

Jimin’s vision was blurry, his eyes taking a minute to adjust before, like an angel of his own, it was you. But what had his heart doing a backflip was the fact that you were staring at him.

It would sometimes happen, your eyes would meet his, without you knowing exactly who you were looking at, but this time it was different. It was like you were looking at him and not through him.

As the rest of the world around him stopped spinning for a second the more and more he came to realize that you were in fact staring at him. This wasn’t a fantasy, not his mind playing tricks on him, you were looking at him, and that was a fucking problem.

Jimin, despite his cloudy brain, sat up quickly, making you shriek and scoot back quickly. He tried his best to ignore the overwhelming nausea he suddenly felt. “You—you can see me?” He struggled to get out, the fucking nausea having him quickly falling back on his back. He didn’t even hear what you said, another mysterious ailment coming over him. His head was killing him.

You watched on the side lines as all of this happened, and you could clearly see the suffering this creature was going through. Even with your heart pounding in your ears, and your hands so shaky they were practically useless, you still found yourself rushing to his side.

“Hey, hey, you ok?” You hurriedly asked. Your hand hovered over his forehead, part of you still scared of what this creature might do. But looking into his hazy eyes, you quickly tossed that fear aside and rested your hand on his head.

He was burning up.

You ran to your bathroom and grabbed a thermometer and came back to check his temperature.

… 45 degrees (113 degrees Fahrenheit)? That can’t be real.

“Y/N…” his voice came out as a whisper but it still had you frozen with shock. He knew your name?

“You can see me?” He gently grabbed a hold of your arm. Your reaction again proved once again that you were 100% aware of his presence here. For some reason his eyes started getting teary quickly, maybe it was the fact that he actually felt like he was dying, but the thought was so nice in a moment like this.

The excitement had him trying to get back up once again, but he was warned the first time. You stared in confusion as he tried lifting himself up, but you saw the look, and suddenly he was sprinting off to your bathroom. You quickly ran after him to find him hunched over your toilet, the distinct sounds of someone throwing up, echoing in your tiny bathroom. It was like an instinct that you ran to join him, gently rubbing his back as he worked himself through it.

Sparing the graphic details, you were basically stuck with him in that bathroom for well over an hour. His temperature, despite it being already to impossible heights, kept rising, sweat was practically pouring off of him. You got ice and tried to cover it with him when the nausea wasn’t as bad. He ended up taking off his shirt somewhere in between, you were too distracted by the pressing situation but later you would come to admire the markings that decorated his skin almost like tattoos.

In one of the down moments, one where you both were sitting next to each other on your bathroom floor, you finally got the courage to ask him his name. After a few deep breaths and his hand grabbing onto yours he told you.

“Jimin.” His voice was hoarse and you could barely understand him, but the name seemed to ring in your head. It suited him perfectly.

You guys, despite spending an hour together, hardly ever really exchanged any words. It was mostly just you running back and forth trying to get as much ice as you could, comforting him when the nausea got too strong, you dabbing his forehead with a washcloth dipped in ice water to keep him cool and wipe away the sweat.

You only knew him for a few hours, but his suffering had you emotional. The moans and cries of pain and exhaustion had you barely holding back tears. There were multiple times he told you he felt like he was dying and the tears that were streaming down his face each time the nausea took over and he was practically sobbing each time he felt another wave of nausea overtake him and he was back to the toilet, had you struggling to keep it together.

You had so many questions about everything before all this, but at that point in time all of them had fled your mind and you just tried your best to be there for him in this moment.

A couple times that night you were worried he might just drop dead. The thought was rash, but if this was a normal human, that concern would be applicable. The only thing that got you through it was when you thought about the pretty wings that once emerged from his back, and well, the fact he just materialized in your living room, reminded you this was not a normal case. This definitely wasn’t a human.

Still though, you silently thanked your mom for teaching you all she knew. She was a nurse and had always lectured you about handling situations like these. Your help wasn’t much but it was what kept your head clear as you tried your best to care for him.

Honestly the only reason you weren’t in your bathroom for longer was the fact he nearly passed out on your shoulder. Exhaustion had taken over and you felt his head on your shoulder start to slide way too quickly. At that point, with the fact it had been at least a solid few minutes since he was gripping the seat, you prayed the nausea had subsided and you slowly helped him to his feet and led Jimin to your room.

You sat him down and quickly ran to get a blanket as you knew your covers would be too warm. By the time you were back he was barely awake, but he still smiled when you dropped the light blanket on top of him.

“Don’t wanna sound weird or anything but while your temperature has stabilized and gone down a bit, it’s still very very high. I honestly suggest maybe taking off your pants, hopefully that will help with keeping you from overheating.”

“Do you mind…. I’m not wearing anything underneath…” His voice was even worse than before.

You were shocked and even a little flustered by his words but you kept your caretaker face on. “I care more about you overheating than anything, I’ll just be careful when I come in tomorrow.”

He nodded slightly before he asked you to turn around. It took a little while but eventually he said you can look and you saw him lying there comfortably, the blanket now covering his form.

You smiled, feeling your heart at ease, before you ran off to get a bucket from your bathroom.

“Okay, so if you feel nauseous again, use this.” You placed it next to him on the floor. “I’ll just be outside in the living room if you need me. I’ll leave the door a little open so I can hear if you need me.” You said softly, seeing his eyes already threatening to fall shut.

You were about to leave when you heard him faintly call for you.

“You’re not staying?” The question seemed loud despite his quiet tone. You felt flustered all over again.

“You were so sad earlier and now with me, you must be exhausted. I feel bad for taking the bed.” You were in fact so exhausted you hardly picked up the fact that he had apparently seen you earlier in the day.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me. Just rest up and hopefully you feel a little better in the morning.” You rushed out the room before he could ask anymore questions, you were flustered as is.

Once the door was slightly closed and you walked back into the living room, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as you sat down on the couch.

The moment away from Jimin had your mind spinning and suddenly all the questions came back to swarm around your head. There was so much that needed to be answered.

You got under the blanket you had brought out here and stared up at your dark ceiling. You wanted so badly to run back in there and pester Jimin with questions, but after these past few hours you know for a fact he wasn’t in the condition to answer any of them.

To not drive yourself crazy you decided to just hold off on them until he’s well enough. That still didn’t stop two major questions from dancing around in your head.

Why was he here, and were you gonna be ok?

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#bts #btscreatorscorner #jimin #angst #bts fanfic #jimin x reader #bts fanfction #jimin angst #angel au #bts angst #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts jimin #bts au #bts fluff #bts reactions #bccsg

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hyunnows · 3 years

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when i’m falling in love (rewrite) | kth

► PAIRING(S): Taehyung x reader, ft Jungkook x reader

► CONTENT/WARNINGS: angst, fluffy ending (kinda), Unrequited Love, neutral(?)angst, bestfrriends!au, kinda canon!au(?)

► RATING: pg13

► WORD COUNT: 4k

► SUMMARY: “forget about him, have me instead”

► A/N: TYSM FOR 160! for the bcc summer games i did a rewrite of this disaster of a fic from when i first started writing! tbh i took out the entire part that related to the song the title’s from, so its kinda random now lol. i really hope you all enjoy! <3

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“Hey Jungkook! Do you maybe want to get some lunch with me?” You offer, breathing deeply to calm your nerves. The worst he can say is no, so there wasn’t that much of a reason to be worried, right? Had you not been trying to ask him out on a date, you wouldn’t be that worried, but you were, and your stress was through the roof as you try to sound relaxed.

Startled at first, he turns to you, ready to agree, until his smile falls, “I’d love to, but I’m packed. Sorry [Y/N],” giving you an apologetic look as he elaborates, “I have something going on all of this week, dance practice, a recording session, then I have a couple dates with some girls I met, and workouts after that… I’m sorry [Y/N].”

You wave your hands in front of you to halt his apologies, squeezing your eyes shut as to stop the embarrassment increasing, “No, no, it's fine! I should've known you'd be busy..." You mumble the last couple of words, sighing and putting up your best fake smile, "Don't overwork yourself!"

He smiles at your understanding words, waving, “I won’t, don’t worry [Y/N]! Maybe you could go for lunch with Taehyung, he’s free today!” and walking out the door.

“Yeah…”

“Wow, am I that much of a downgrade?” Taehyung pipes in from the other room, a playful smile on his lips. You jump at his deep voice, surprised. He plops himself onto the room couch, and pats the spot besides him, beckoning you to sit.

You squeeze between him and the couch arm, leaning on him with a pout, “I failed… again. I didn’t even start with the confession like I was supposed to…” disappointment oozing from your tone. You’d planned the whole thing out, even asking Taehyung and Namjoon for help, and rehearsed it countless times, only to completely botch the entire thing.

After a moment of silence, Taehyung decides to pitch his idea, “I could tell him for you,” doing his best to not let his voice waver.

Whining, you subconsciously swing his hand around, lightly slapping your face by accident. Of course, you wanted to confess to Jungkook, but since his oddly late and recent discovery of his own handsomeness and effect on women, he'd been using it to his advantage-asking girls out left and right. What really ruined your confidence, though, was his choice in girls; they were nothing like you. He picked tall, elegant and sophisticated women-usually women a couple of years older than him or his age. You were, well, short, clumsy and younger than him by more than half a year. It was probably an understatement to say you were crushed.

Taehyung reads your silence, giving a comforting squeeze to your hand in his larger one, “He doesn’t know what he’s missing [Y/N], Jungkook never notices when a great opportunity is right in front of him,” meaning the words more than you know.

Taehyung never meant to steal Jungkook’s best friend as his own–what an idiot he’d been friend zoning himself–and he definitely hadn’t planned on falling for you. It happened out of nowhere, after knowing you for years, when one day he felt his heart stop under your gaze. Suddenly, your opinion of him mattered more than everyone else's, he cared more about you than himself, he’d cannonball into the pool of your heart.

Suddenly, he was in love with you. And even after four years of watching you be in love with Jungkook and loving you in the background, he hadn't crawled out of the hole that he'd fallen into one bit. Still, seeing you utterly in love with one of his best friends was already tough enough for Taehyung. It was even more difficult filling his role as your rock when you always came to him to talk about your crush, and seeing you heartbroken over Jungkook just made it that much more difficult for him to be supportive. How could you not see how he was there, waiting for you to finally see him in the same light as his younger?

He’d always been there for you to lean, cry and scream to, ready to ease your troubles if only for a bit. He’d heard all your complaints, all your tears and even all your compliments meant for Jungkook, and he’d taken them all off your shoulders. While he loved Jungkook like a brother, he was sick of hearing about him. He couldn't help but feel a certain way about him, a crippling jealousy burning in him at the sight of the younger boy.

----

Taehyung frowns at you as you stare after Jungkook and his date from across the fast-food restaurant Taehyung had taken you to. He had no idea that the Maknae would be there, much less with a date. He wishes he did, so he could have taken you somewhere else instead, “Don’t give up [Y/N], nothing’s worse than a dream left unfulfilled,” gosh, why did he have to keep encouraging you?

“I've tried everything, Taehyung. I don't think he'll ever feel the same,” you whine exasperated, upset but confident with your resolution, ready to accept you'd never be with him. You shake your head as you cover it with your hands, releasing a stressed breath of air.

“Not everything, but you do you,” eliciting a chuckle from you with his word choice.

Sarcasm soaking your tone, you build upon his implication, “What, you mean make him jealous?” laughing at your own joke, slowly quieting when you notice his pursed lips, “Wait, you’re serious? Taehyung, that only works in books and movies, this is real life.”

“Hey, chill! I was only giving a suggestion,” holding his hands up in mock defense, laughing, “Honestly [Y/N], I really think you’re just wasting your time.”

“Rude!”

“I know, I know, but think about it! You haven’t made any kind of progress, and Jungkook’s just getting further out of your reach,” you bite your lip, eyes glazed over as his words sink in. With a sigh, he reaches for your hand, rubbing his thumb over it and ignores the butterflies that flutter at the contact, “I just don’t want you hung up on him, okay?”

“Yeah, thanks Tae,” you murmur, your [E/C] eyes finding Jungkook and his gorgeous date once again. Taehyung was right. You needed to either do something to make the feeling you held mutual, or move on, and at this point, you favored the ladder. Then, in a fit of stress, you groan loudly, running your hands over your face in a way your skin would not be grateful for, “Ugh, I hate being in love!”

Taehyung gives a breathy laugh, whispering under his breath, “Ditto.”

----

“You know, I don’t even miss him that much.”

“That’s because you’ve been texting him nonstop for the past three days,” Taehyung points out, weakening your accomplishment. He tries to look over at your screen, only to have it pulled out of his vision, “What is it you don’t want me to see, hm?” a teasing tone coating his deep voice.

You push his head away, “Nothing!” and continue typing away.

Taehyung thinks it's amazing how you hadn’t even tried to stick to your resolution, allowing Jungkook to be your sole focus once again the moment he had time for you. If it were Taehyung you wanted, you wouldn’t have to hold on to every interaction with a death grip the way you did for Jungkook.

Texting Jungkook was fun, sending the dankest of dank memes, and sharing dumb videos you both found. As enjoyable as it was, you couldn’t help but feel unsatisfied, knowing if it were Taehyung you were messaging, your conversation would probably be a lot deeper in meaning, or have more interacting than sending a photo and an “lmao” every couple of seconds, or–

You stop yourself in confusion, because where had that come from? You’d never compared either to the other, and Taehyung wasn’t even the one you liked! Taehyung was your amazing, sweet, caring, goofy best friend, and Jungkook was your crush, not the other was around.

“What’s rolling around that pretty head of yours?” the dark haired boy interrupts, throwing his arm around your shoulder and cuddling into your figure on the sofa. His deep voice startles you, and you make a mental note to find out why your stomach had done somersaults at the sound of it.

Shrugging, you make something up, hoping it was believable enough to spare yourself the embarrassment of explaining how you’d been debating who gave off the most “boyfriend material” vibes. Your phone dings again, pulling you out of your head, and Taehyung swears he sees hearts in your eyes at whatever Jungkook has sent you. He groans. You were so whipped.

With a quiet squeal, you announce your victory, “Jungkook wants to take me to lunch!” hopping out of Taehyung’s grip, missing the way his face falls. “He wants to go out at five, that’s an hour and a half away. Tae, what do I wear?”

He doesn’t want to help you look good for another man, but as your best friend he knows the obligation that comes with the title. You didn’t want him, you wanted Jungkook, yet it was his job to be there for you no matter what. Twisted, wasn’t it?

When the two of you reach your apartment, he picks out a nice, fitting dress that makes you look beautiful without seeming desperate. Perfect. You can barely get it on, jittering with excitement, and eventually calling Taehyung to help you zip it. You were finally going out with Jungkook, alone–

Taehyung’s phone chimes, Jungkook’s name lighting up the screen with a text. Taehyung glances up to your hand for a second, then checks the message, his face contorting into an expression of sorrow, “He wants me to come with you guys, so he can introduce us to someone. I think he set us up for a double date [Y/N].”

The bright look in your eyes fades immediately, your excited blush and smile disappearing, “Oh. It’s okay, I mean, I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up,” feeling dumb with your previous assumption. Of course Jungkook wouldn’t ask you out suddenly. He hadn’t insinuated it was a date at all, and you’d jumped to what you wanted it to be. How stupid of you.

You almost expect it when Taehyung envelopes you in his strong, warm arms, providing a type of comfort you associated with him. “I have to get ready,” he murmurs into your ear, giving you one more tight squeeze and releasing you.

He stares at your disappointed figure once more, biting his lip, thinking of telling you Jungkook wasn’t the one for you, then shakes the thought away. That wasn’t his place, he didn’t get to tell you what to do.

You collapse onto your bed a few moments after you hear the door shut, cuddling yourself in an attempt to recreate the comfort only Taehyung knew how to provide. Why was it that he was always able to bring you peace that not even Jungkook could give you? Your mind goes back to that moment earlier, when you’d been weighing the dateability of Taehyung and Jungkook. It wasn’t a very fair thing to do, but you couldn’t help continuing the thought.

They were both outstandingly good looking, tall, broad and fit, and they were both kind and adorable. Jungkook was ridiculously hilarious, with every stupid gag or meme in his arsenal, always ready to make you laugh–while Taehyung was more sarcastic and accidentally funny, and he always made you comfortable.

You ponder over that last thought a bit longer. Taehyung always managed to make you feel at home, safe and–while you were almost always jittery and uneasy around Jungkook, which was normal, right? Everyone was nervous around their crush! The only difference between you and most people, was that your crush was your former best friend. There hadn’t been any dramatic falling out, you two had just grown apart back in your teens–partly due to his schedule and overseas studying, and partly because of your ever growing feelings for him.

But now you realize, were the two of you ever really best friends? You weren’t so sure as you once again compared him to Taehyung, more specifically, your relationships. You didn’t–and you were sure you never had–know half of what you knew about Taehyung about Jungkook. You had never been able to silently read his face the way you could read Taehyung. And most importantly, you’d never enjoyed his company as much as Taehyung’s.

While there certainly was a time when you would have given your left ear for alone time with Jungkook, it was nothing against the right arm and kneecap you’d give for Tae.

Stuck in your thoughts, you fail to hear your door click again, continuing your blank stare at your wall until a large hand waves in front of you. The sudden withdrawal from the analysis in your head makes you jump, then smile when you recognize the long, tan fingers attached to your favorite person.

“You were really concentrated there, you good [Y/N]?” He chuckles, worry barely seeping into his bright tone. You chuckle stiffly, color filling your cheeks at the newfound knowledge that might mean you were in love with Taehyung.

“Yeah, just… Daydreaming.”

He stares at you like you've said some utter nonsense, then shrugs, “If you say so. By the way, Jungkook also invited Jin and Namjoon, because you know how much they mean to him. I…” He inhales audibly, unsure whether he should voice his thoughts, or spare your feelings. “I think he might be serious about this girl.”

The words stab you, hundreds of tiny needles pickling your heart, and you try not to think about what could have happened if Taehyung got a girlfriend--since everything with him seemed to be more extreme for you.

“At least he's happy,” you murmur, staring at Taehyung's hand with the sudden urge to hold it. Taehyung wouldn't mind if you did, he liked holding hands, but with the way your heart kept betraying you, you just let your gaze linger.

Taehyung spots your focused gaze, smiling softly and catching your hand in his. The action startles you and causes your head to shoot up, slightly wide eyes and warmed cheeks in surprise, “Don’t look down while you walk, you might trip,” he plays off coolly, trying not to get flustered at the fact that he’d made you blush.

You nod, turning your gaze back to the path in front of you, just as the two of you jog down the stairs, hand-in-hand with you dragging Taehyung behind you. When you reach the bottom, you’re slightly winded, laughing as Taehyung—who was entirely unfazed by the short climb down—mimics the walk that everyone dies down the stairs.

Maybe Jungkook wasn’t the one for you. Maybe Taehyung was all you needed.

Your suspicions are confirmed a good forty-five minutes later while you’re sat between Taehyung and Namjoon, across from Jungkook, his date Mina and Seokjin.

You’re almost sick by now, watching all their lovey-dovey smiles and doe eyes directed at one another, paired with rosy cheeks and soft giggles as they recall a fun date they had a while back. It’s cute, natural and painful. Painful for you to see how he looks at her with heart eyes, when he’s never given you more than a friendly glance. It’s painful how you’re sat in front of her, Jungkook to her right and Jin to her left, and you can perfectly see why Jungkook wanted her and not you.

She was gorgeous, long, thick black hair slightly curled and swept elegantly to the side, flawless fair skin, tall and exceptionally proportioned—absolutely perfect. And from what you’d heard from her, she was just as goofy as Jungkook, except she took care of him the way Jin would, and kept him in line like Namjoon, all while cooing at him with her perfectly smooth voice.

You were nothing like that. There was no surprise why he didn’t want you–not because you weren’t pretty or funny or amazing–you just weren’t his type.

The epiphany that you just weren’t the girl for Jungkook made you realize that perhaps, he wasn’t the boy for you. You were almost always uncomfortable in his presence, always trying to outdo yourself and catch his attention, all while being afraid of humiliating yourself. He also had the tendency to push you past your limits when it came to being adventurous, and you’d been on the wrong side of heartbreak dozens of times without him ever intending to hurt you. Maybe you’d just been too blinded by your schoolgirl crush on him to realize it would never work out between you.

A week later you come to the realization that while you may not have been meant for Jungkook, the first boy you’d ever loved and let go of, there was someone else who could most definitely be the one for you. Taehyung always managed to keep you on your toes, yet you were always at peace with yourself and everything else when he was with you. He always knew when to stop, and he was always your shoulder when you needed one.

And it’s not too long before you realize that perhaps Taehyung was thinking the same as you. He’d always stare when he thought you weren’t looking, and he’d always let his touch linger, you just only notice now that Jungkook isn’t on your mind 25/8.

But now that you’re prepared to move on, Jungkook asks you out, just the two of you. The flicker of hope in your chest comes back to life, and you’re once again dragging Taehyung to your apartment to help you dress up, “Please Tae! You’ve got, like, the best fashion sense ever!”

“Can’t argue with that,” Yoongi, who decided to tag along instead of staying for dance practice with Hobi, Jin and Namjoon, interjects, focused on his phone as he gets comfortable on your bed.

“Just wear that outfit I got you last month,” Taehyung sighs, unenthusiastic about your “date” with the maknae. Of course, just as you start paying him attention, Jungkook decides to swoop in and steal the spotlight that is your eyes. “I’m sure he’d love to see you in that.”

Yoongi orders you to show him what outfit Taehyung was talking about, looking up momentarily before you enter the bathroom to change.

Pulling on the jeans, you struggle a little to button them together, breathing heavily once you've finally done it. It wasn't anything special in looks, but it was really close to your heart, considering Taehyung had gone out and bought it all on his own for you. A loose navy tee and some lightly bleached blue jeans, just your style. Not fancy, yet it managed to fit you just right, accentuating only where you wanted it to while managing to be the most comfortable set of clothes you'd ever worn.

Gulping thickly upon seeing you, Taehyung wonders how you somehow got even more perfect. All beautiful and completely oblivious to the things you did to him-to his heart. He'd sue you for the damage you've caused. His chest burns as he remembers, you're wearing this on a date with his best friend, not with him. “You look perfect…”

Your cheeks turn a pinkish color, and you know it’s not just because you didn’t expect the compliment, but because it’s from Taehyung. “Thanks Tae!” you almost have to remind yourself that the outfit, while being from him, was not for him.

“Dang, [Y/N]! You look amazing! Those are new clothes just for me, right?” Jungkook jokes when picks you up,bunny teeth showing as he teases you playfully, “They really do look nice though!”

Flushing red, you thank him, glancing back at Taehyung who's giving you a reassuring nod, waving slowly. He doesn't want you to go. He doesn't want you to confess-at least, not to Jungkook, and he definitely doesn’t want Jungkook confessing to you. He wants you to whip around, run into his chest and start sputtering about how this was all just a joke--a mischievous scandal you planned to make Taehyung jealous all along, instead of the reality that this was all for Jungkook. What he would give.

You decide quickly it's either now or never, gripping the hem of your shirt as you face Jungkook, “Jungkook… I-I,” you take a deep breath, calming your nerves a little, “I really like you.” Two weeks ago, you would’ve said love.

Taken aback by your confession, Jungkook darts his eyes anywhere but at you, biting his lip, “[Y/N], I… I don't feel that way about you…”

Your heart stings a bit, but not nearly as much as you thought it would’ve. You don’t feel like you’ve just been rejected, but rather, like you’ve been set free. It’s relieving and liberating, and you’re surprised when you realize you aren’t at all disappointed to the extent you’d expected to be, “Oh.”

“Do you still want to watch the movie with me? I understand if you need time,” but you assure him you’re fine.

The two of you make it through the horror movie you’d picked, barely flinching because of your lack of focus on the silver screen. You didn’t feel like crying, and you weren’t upset, just… numb

Jungkook drops you off after a quick drive through dinner, holding your wrist and staring at you with his doe eyes, “Hey, we’re cool, right?”

“Of course we are! I just needed to get that off my chest. Don’t worry about it, okay/” you soothe, and it’s kind of awkward how you’re consoling him after he’d “broken your heart”.

When you walk in to see Taehyung sprawled out on your couch, you’re overjoyed, He turns to you, expecting to see your tear-stain cheeks of heartbreak, but instead he’s greeted by your blank face and open arms, your small figure running to hug him. “Did he accept your confession?”

“No, he rejected me,” you sigh, squeezing him tighter.

“You’re so strong, [Y/N]. He doesn't know what he's missing…” pulling you tighter to him so he can comfort you.

“Thanks, Tae,” you pause, feeling the delayed emotions bubble up, “Y’know, I feel really dumb for getting so worked up over nothing.” Your tears building up as he smooths over your hair.

“Don’t say that, you’re incredibly smart, just like you’re unbelievably gorgeous, and so, so kind,” whispering while he starts to sway you side to side and pulls away a bit. “And before you say something like how he would never fall for someone like you, don’t. What would you be saying about my [Y/N], huh?”

You snort, trying to go back to hugging him, but he keeps you at a distance, “That she fell for the wrong guy,” a melancholy giggle after you utter the words that held more truth than they should’ve.

Taehyung nods, “I’ll say.”

“Rude!”

“I'm not joking,” he deadpans, eyes fiery, but still somehow sweet and loving, “If I could bring down a star for you, I'd do it twice. I just don’t know why you keep chasing Jungkook when I’m right here, waiting for you,” his voice fading into a whisper, embarrassed. He just spilled his heart to you, and you were just staring at him, blankly. He should’ve expected that you didn’t like him back, but he’d hoped, “Why can’t you just choose me instead?”

“I want to,” you loosen your arms around him, “I’m just not ready yet,” feeling a weight lift from your shoulders. You liked Taehyung, you were sure, but Jungkook still owned so much of your heart, like he had for so long. You couldn’t just move on from something like that.

“Then I’ll wait for you, whether it’s a week or two years, until you’re ready.”

He didn’t have to wait two years.

► BTS TAGLIST: @imbonibi @fangirl125reader @geniejunn

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minsugallery · 3 years

Text

Beauty

Part Of: BCC Summer Games Event @btscreatorscorner

Activity #1: POV Challenge

Write from a POV that you don’t usually write from as a way to challenge yourself!

Summary: Why is it that you can’t see in yourself what Seokjin sees in you? Why is it that everything about you that you think are things that put you down, are the same things that Seokjin thinks pull you up and make you glow? This is a look into your boyfriend’s mind…

Genre: Established Relationship! AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

Pairing: Idol! Seokjin x Female! Reader

Warnings: Sasaeng Behavior, Mentions of Bullying, Mentions of Body-Shaming, Mentions of Trauma

Word Count: 627

Written: June 23, 2021, Posted: June 24, 2021

“My love, please,” I call out softly to her. “Please, don’t cry.”

My girlfriend shakes her head at me. “How can I not, Jin,” she sobs out. “I, for the first time, am truly seeing myself.” I let out a quiet sigh, feeling so absolutely upset that she thinks of herself this way.

This all started when we went out to the mall. People recognized me, of course, but they left us alone for the most part, save for a few fans who decided to stop by and talk to me momentarily. There was no one who stepped out of line or caused any kind of scene, simply greeting me and Y/N before leaving us to continue our shopping. Things were going well until a sasaeng of sorts appeared.

She started off by talking to me, completely ignoring Y/N. Y/N and I brushed it off at first because you can’t really do anything about fans who refuse to change their mindset. However, this started to escalate when I started to ween her off of our conversation so that Y/N and I could keep moving along. The sasaeng got upset, starting to yell at me for ‘betraying’ her and ‘abandoning’ her.

I started to be firm, telling her to leave us alone, our bodyguard ready to step in at any moment. But right before she left, she finally turned to Y/N and directly addressed her. She yelled at her, brought back trauma I know she had, and hurt her to the point where she hadn’t said anything back in our whole trip home.

“Jin,” she said quietly, “do you… do you think I’m…”

No. Never.

I refuse to let her out herself down any longer. So I walked towards her as she stood in front of our full length mirror as she continued to scrutinize herself.

“Stop that,” I tell her gently, wrapping my arms around her, “Stop putting yourself down. Stop putting yourself down the way someone else tells you that you should, because it’s not true. You have nothing to be looked down upon. If anything,” I taper off before continuing, “If anything, you should have people on their knees in front of you.”

“Jin,” she turns to look at me. I stop her, grabbing her chin and turning her head back at the mirror.

“Look at yourself. You’re beautiful. You’re gorgeous. You’re breathtaking.” I give her a gentle kiss on her cheek, “Start looking at yourself like that. You’re flawless, my love” I tell her as I brush back her baby hairs from her forehead.

She sniffles once more, “Now,” I take in a breath, “No more crying, unless they’re happy tears, alright?” She nods at me, looking at me with that smile of hers again. That smile that knocks the breath out of your lungs. The kind of smile that’s hard to see at human and not ethereal.

“Thank you, Seokjin. I love you, you know?” She quietly speaks out as she buries her face into my neck, arms going around my chest. I let out a happy smile, wrapping my arms back around her tightly, not wanting to let go anytime soon.

“I know,” I hum out. “I love you too. I love you so, so much.” I never get tired of hearing her say she loves me. And I never get tired of telling her that I love her.

I love her so very much. And it’s because of that love that I will continue to fight for her. I will continue to fight and I will make sure that she knows how beautiful she is. If she doesn’t have the strength to see it in herself yet then I will give my strength to show her how beautiful she is. Always.

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hobipaint · 3 years

Text

The Rebellion

summary: My take on what happened in the Daechwita storyline, as a drabble.

↳ pairing: none.

↳ genre: historical

↳ disclaimers: pg

↳ word count: 460

a/n: this was written for the @btscreatorscorner summer games, the Alphabet writing activity- 26 sentences which have each alphabet at the beginning chronologically i.e. the first begins with a, the second with b, and so on.

"After years of yearning, the kingdom shall finally fall. Before we cowered to those who ruled the sovereignty of our lands, the ones who ruined us- now, we shall write our own future. Come, take a new leap with us." Daringly, Yoongi threw the mic down, wiping sweat that was building on his forehead and slipping down to his scar- the one right across him eye, and staring boldly at everyone in the room, foes and friends alike.

Ecstatic applause echoed from one corner - Yoongi grinned at a whistling Seokjin and an enthusiastic Jungkook who applauded loudly. "Fight we will! Fight we will!" the soldiers cheered on - more like the vagabonds who were victims of the king's cruelty and had joined him. Going up to them, Yoongi clapped a hand on one veteran's hunched shoulder, solemnly promising to win the fight - together. His hands came together to bow to him as a mark of reverence for the one who started the revolution. "I promise not to let you down," he said, "for this win shall be ours."

Jagged blades were raised to the height of the tavern, swearing victory, swearing rebellion, while the bartender laughed heartily at the upcoming downfall of the tyrant king. "Kings are only kings till they have the crowns, after all - leaders remain without any badges." Laughing away, the bartender brought more drinks to the tables, alcohol spread all around to celebrate the upcoming victory.

Morning spilled its glorious light into the windows of the bar, which echoed with snores of hungover people and the frantic noting that Yoongi did. "Night fall," he elaborated to no one, "night fall is when we strike." Only Seokjin and Jungkook were aware of his stealthy leave, as they bent over the tables and woke others hastily to search for Yoongi- though one sat at the back, blonde eyebrow rising in surprise. Perhaps, amidst the sleeping campaign, there was one that was awake. Quizzically raising his eyebrows, he smirked, taking a swig of his alcohol. "Rather stealthy," he said, smirking as he slipped into the shadows.

Swirling the sword over his head, the king laughed. "The ruler is here, make way for your majesty," the executioner said, as the soldiers knelt in respect. Upon reaching the last step, the king looked at the bound leader, who stared at him in defiance. "Vagabond," he sneered, "you surely have spirit. Would you like to say any last words?" he smirked, before laughing like a maniac. Xanthic hair swayed side to side as the king stumbled up to the last step, reeking of alcohol. Yoongi sneered back at him, and nodded at the executioner - merely a butcher in disguise, a friend to Yoongi. Zig- zagged slashes all over the rope freed Yoongi, who then staggered to attention, raised his gun at the king and whispered - "goodbye, my Lord."

a/n: this was honestly so much fun to write! idk how I ended up thinking of this but it just flowed so quickly I loved it ahaha. if you have any feedback you would like to share, do comment, reblog, or send an ask!! thank you for reading! love, hazel 💞

masterlist

#bccsg #btscreatorscorner #bangtanarmynet #bangtaninn #kwritersworldnet #castlebangtan #yoongi fanfiction #bts min yoongi #min yoongi #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #suga fanfiction #suga fanfic #daechwita #bts suga #yoongi fic #agust d #hobipaint

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chemicalpink · 3 years

Note

MARINETTE MY BCCSG RIVAL!!!!!! have the happiest birthday, my dear!!! i hope it's filled with cake, joy, and LOTS OF LOVE!!!! i am so glad to have gotten to know you <3 i adore you completely!!!

MOON BABY THANK YOU SO MUCH I ADORE YOU JUST AS MUCH

Remember that as much as we are bccsg rivals, we love each other okay lmao I can’t thank the universe enough for getting to know you

#marinettes bday #not that I’ll get that many messages but you know #just in case

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lavienjin · 3 years

Text

cruise control | knj

summary: Clumsy by nature, Namjoon often comes into your hospital for the smallest of injuries; results from his foolish driving as he races in the streets or from his job at the auto body shop. You remind him often enough to be careful, but never — not even in your worst nightmares — could you imagine that the limp and bloodied figure lying on the operating table is the same one that had just asked you out on a date.

↠ part of the BTS meets 50s collab!

pairing: street racer!namjoon x doctor!reader

word count: 13,681

rating/genre/au: 18+ | street racing au | smut, fluff, v lil angst

warnings: blood • depictions of injury • swearing • explicit smut in the forms of: unprotected sex • fingering • creampie

author's note: lot of research went into this including, but not limited to: 50s slang, pretending to sound like a doctor, and what constitutes a fuckin car! this is also part of the research au challenge for bccsg! thanks to @homeofbangtan for letting me be a part of this heckin collab; please send the love to the other writers as well! to my betas, dee @sugasbabiie and my secret ginchiest babe (who doesn't want to be named), thank you for being patient with me! and yes the irony that joon is the only one w/o a driver's license isn't lost on me

playlist: tokyo drifting // vroom vroom // big black car //

credit for the gif!

m.list | ao3

There’s a breathtaking scenery that exists beyond the windows of a moving vehicle. Lights and sound blurring together into one as Namjoon steps foot on the gas, urging his red Ford Thunderbird to keep up with the twists and turns of the streets, humming quietly to himself as he taps on the steering wheel.

The sun barely had time to peak from the horizon, its softest rays have yet to kiss the clouds, and he’s already racing against a black Bentley, one of them rich people cars that had honked beside him in the red light, rolling down the window to ask if he’d fancy burning some rubber. Who was Namjoon to deny such a fun request? As soon as the lights turned green, they were off. The unspoken rules of street racing in his town are simple: keep within a specific distance between your challenger or better yet, surpass them entirely, until you hit the big city limit sign and you win. There were a few caveats here and there – one of the more dangerous ones involving the winding roads of Crestone Peak, but it’s a death wish to try and race there. The folks out here just want a good time and Namjoon’s more than happy to provide that. With his car so well-known in the city, a deep red Thunderbird with a cherry decal on the side, Namjoon receives invitations in all forms of manners – a phone call, a letter, or even spur of the moment instances such as these.

Forgetting his worries, Namjoon shifts his gear stick to the fourth notch, Cherry’s engine purring in support as his eyes focus on the license plate in front of him, tongue prodding the inside of his cheek as he rolls the windows down, whooping loudly as the wind blasts through his hair and he leaves the guy in the dust, passing the sign only a few seconds before the Bentley did.

The victory was sweet, albeit shortlived, and Namjoon will surely never see the guy again as he sticks his hand outside and waves. He slows his car to the appropriate speed limit, laughing to himself as he navigates his way around the city, cruising to find another sap that would dare race with him.

“Kim motherfucking Namjoon!”

He winces when his full name is thrown in the air with such annoyance - at the shrill voice muttering phrases no patient should be hearing in the hospital. The curtains around his bed is yanked away, revealing you in a lab coat with a furious glint in your eyes, mouth turned into a deep scowl. Namjoon can’t help but smile warmly at your irritated figure as he waits for the tirade with a chuckle.

“What’s the problem, doll?”

“The problem is that you’re here. Again. And I should be asking youthat question,” you remark pointedly, glaring at his sad state. "What the hell, knucklehead? How did you get hurt this time?"

Despite your brusque tone, your hands are busy inspecting his body: listening to his heartbeat - "124 bpm," you note - and measuring his temperature (though Namjoon isn't sure why you go through such lengths). When you prod your delicate fingers along his sternum while trying to locate the injury, he hisses, face scrunching up and muscles locking instantly as he tries to breathe through the pain.

Instantly, your face morphs into one of concern, knitted eyebrows and soft eyes as you snatch your hand away to stand beside him, rubbing his back soothingly. As the pain ebbs turning into a dull ache, Namjoon can't help but turn towards you, a strained smile on his lips as he relaxes from your touch. He wonders silently if you do this for all your patients or just him. He hopes it's the latter.

“Hey, are you okay?” you whisper, pushing his shoulders gently to have him relax on the bed again. “Seriously, what happened this time, Joon?”

He looks momentarily at your hand resting on his shoulder; at the warmth that's spreading all over his body. He chuckles, but it's caught in his throat, sounding raspier than ever, beads of sweat appearing on his forehead as he clutches his chest, preparing himself for another onslaught of nags. “Oh, I just… umm… crashed the car and I knocked my chest against the steering wheel pretty hard. Thank god the airbag didn’t deploy and break my nose or anything.”

“You crashed your car!?” you half-gasp, half-yell, eyes bulging out of your head before whipping around to make sure no one in the ward heard anything. Your voice drops to a whisper, mouth forming a thin line as you continue your examination. “I can't believe this. Lift your shirt up.”

“The least you could do is to take me out to dinner first,” he teases.

An eyeroll is your only response as you order him again. Sighing, Namjoon does as he’s told, shrugging his shirt so it wraps around his neck. There’s a blueish mark on the centre of his chest and the way your warm fingers brush against it makes him sigh, craving more of your touch despite the ache. You’re silent as you continue to press and prod along his abdomen before you finally lean back, letting him pull his shirt down with a nod as you scribble silently in your clipboard.

“Good news,” you singsong playfully, before sighing and slightly shaking your head. Anger forgotten, the corners of your mouth turn upwards into a lopsided grin. “You should be fine. The damage is all epidermal – surface level, and I don’t feel any broken bones nor do I detect any laboured breathing. Please do come back if you start experiencing those symptoms. It’s going to hurt like a bitch, but I think you’ll be okay after a few days.”

Namjoon stares at you; observing the way your shoulders seem to sag with relief, at the storm leaving your eyes when you realise that he’s going to be fine.

“You’re free to go, though. I can prescribe you with some painkillers if you need them?” Your voice breaks through his thoughts and he’s forced to look at those glimmering eyes.

Hiding the blush of his cheeks with a cough, Namjoon quickly shakes his head. “No need, doc. The whole reason I came here was to take a gander at your pretty face anyway.”

Subtle.

You falter at that and Namjoon doesn’t miss the way you tuck a strand of hair behind your ears, eyes shifting between your clipboard and the floor. Cute.

“A-Anyway, I have other patients to attend to, so if there’s nothing else…” you trail off, still resolutely looking at your shoes instead of Namjoon.

Wincing at the dull ache in his chest, he circles your wrist with his hand, tugging gently to get you to look at him. Tongue turning into lead, he opens and closes his mouth, trying to push out the question that's been on the tip of his tongue for a while.

Now or never.

“There is one thing… You've been taking care of me all this time. Let me take you out to dinner, yeah? As thanks.”

His heart is the sound of a roaring lion, commanding his attention. The silence doesn’t treat him gently – his palms are beginning to sweat as he waits for your answer, smile faltering with every second ticking where you’re not looking at him. Finally, you turn around and Namjoon smiles wider, dimples flashing when you agree with a quiet ‘yes’ and a nod of your head.

“I can’t this week. Maybe the next?” you reply meekly, avoiding his gaze.

“Sounds like a plan, Stan.” Namjoon swings his legs from the bed, the pain already ebbing away with how excited he is at the prospect of finally taking you out. “See you later, alligator.”

You think he’s out of earshot, but Namjoon catches you mumble under your breath, voice barely audible among the beeps of machinery. He forces himself to walk normally, despite wanting to jump for joy and pump his fist in the air.

“Not for a while, crocodile.”

===

The rest of the day seem slower now as Namjoon works at fixing his beloved Cherry, resenting his past self for losing control on the slippery road and crashing. It wasn’t a bad one, especially with his skills, but the front bumper had come off and with the very specific red that paints his car, it’s going to be a bitch to order the part and have it painted the right colour to avoid any patchiness. He supposed it got him a date next week, so he shouldn’t be too mad.

He had found the Thunderbird in the junkyard, about to be crushed into a sad cube before he raced to the guard’s booth, paying the person discreetly to let him have her. With a lot of elbow grease and sweat, Namjoon managed to bring her back to life with the help of his mechanic buddies and one too many sleepless nights. He can’t imagine what sort of person would discard such a hot rod, but he’s not complaining, especially since it came virtually for free. His boss, Max, was even gracious enough to let him keep her in his garage, allowing Namjoon to fix whatever problems she has as long as he continues to work diligently at his actual job.

Already in his late 50s, Max was known as the best mechanic in town and made sure that reputation stayed intact to the best of his abilities by hiring people like Namjoon that worked his ass day in and day out. Other than you, he’s the only other person that disapproves of Namjoon’s thrillseeking tendencies, though he doesn’t nag whenever Namjoon comes in bruised and broken in the morning, just a sigh and a gruff reminder to “take it easy.”

“What’s got you smiling so happily today?” comes a voice from behind Namjoon as he screws yet another bolt into Cherry’s side.

Namjoon laughs, turning around to give his friend a quick clap on the shoulder. “Taehyung,” he greets the younger man before turning his attention back to his Thunderbird. “Nothing much, just won myself a hot date.”

“Cut the gas!” Taehyung cheers, wrapping his arm around Namjoon’s shoulder. “The doctor chick? The one you’ve crushed on for like years now?”

“It hasn’t been years, I’ve only known her for like a few months!” he chuckles, slipping away from the younger man’s hold “But yeah, the ‘doctor chick’. She has a name, you know?”

Taehyung sighs, rolling his eyes. “I know, I know. It’s ___. I’ve heard you talking about her in all states of drunkenness, candy ass. Even if I tried to forget her name, I wouldn’t be able to.”

Namjoon grins sheepishly, running his hand through his hair. Taehyung continues to pepper him with questions: about his plans for the date and about the races he’s recently been a part of – all the while helping Namjoon with Cherry until Max called them out to the front to help him work on a car that just came in. It was an average working day for Namjoon, though he’s a little distracted at the butterflies in his stomach, imagining the date that’s happening in a week’s time.

---

The first time Namjoon laid his eyes on you, he’s instantly smitten. Taehyung had suffered a bad stomach flu and needed to go get it checked out. He had pleaded for Namjoon to come with, so he could drive him back to his apartment instead of waiting for the bus. He agreed reluctantly when he saw just how pale Taehyung was, ushering him to the best hospital the city could offer: Hope.

You were the only doctor available that day and boy was it ever a stroke of luck. You’d been kind and gentle, making sure that he felt heard despite whining like a little child. Your easy smile was a bonus too and Namjoon chased after that smile for weeks, turning up to the hospital for every trivial injury; from a paper cut to a broken nail, just to see you again. He learned that you were one of the newer doctors at Hope Hospital, which meant that you had the most shifts out of anyone. Despite all that, the positive and patient smile never leaves your face and the nurses all spoke highly of you, even some giving out courtesy warnings like an older sibling would.

“If you dare hurt her…” one of the older nurses had threatened, raising a scalpel she was cleaning to stab it in the air. Namjoon gulped, nodding as he got the memo loud and clear.

Eventually, your worried fretting over Namjoon stopped and your current relationship is formed, one where Namjoon frequents the hospital as often as he pleases and gets you to check on him just so he could talk to you for a few minutes, much to your annoyance. You’ve yet to throw him out though, always dutifully checking his vitals regardless of how small his injury may be along with comments about how he should have been more carefuland it’s that dedication to your line of work that made Namjoon fall even harder.

In one of the rare occasions, you opened up, he learned that you had no intentions of becoming a doctor, afraid jumping into such a male-driven field, but your college professor had convinced you otherwise and through sheer determination, you managed to graduate top of your class, surprising all your colleagues. And that surprise lasted for quite some time, the university erecting a bench dedicated to you, especially when you landed a job at Hope Hospital as a full-fledged doctor, skipping your residency entirely.

“And you? What’s your story?” you asked after finishing your tale.

“Me? I’m just a guy. My dad used to take me to the tracks and I fell in love with driving, but obviously that’s not in the cards. So, I took my passion for cars and turned it into a career. I’m a mechanic by day, street racer by night,” he explained with a hearty laugh, putting his hands behind his head as he lies on the bed.

“If only you were less clumsy,” you teased, prodding him on the ribcage after finding out that he had came in that day because of a light headache. “Just be careful, will you?”

“I’ll be fine,” Namjoon smiled, showing off his dimples in hopes to reassure you. “Honestly, the only thing I’m worried about is being caught by the fuzz. And even then, I’m not too worried; I know a guy,” he winked, chest warm at your genuine empathy.

“Well, I suppose I know who to reach with my one phone call.”

Namjoon could hear you laugh all day – loving the way your eyes crinkle around the corners and at the occasional snort; at the way you shake your head slightly when it subsides into giggles.

The two of you grew closer since then, to the point where you felt comfortable enough to nag him when he came in to the hospital genuinely injured, his arm dangling limply where he pulled it out of its socket. Namjoon felt comforted as you pumped him full of painkillers and sent him home in a sling, and his smile grew tenfold when you slipped a paper with your schedule in his hand, asking him to come back within those times so you could take a better look in case he developed a negative reaction to the painkillers. Whether he was high in love or if it’s because of the drugs, Namjoon slept soundly that night, the pain in his shoulder momentarily forgotten while he dreamed of your smile.

---

Max breaks him from his reverie by asking Namjoon to come help him with yet another car and thankfully, this car just needed a quick change of oil and some scrub down to get it shiny and ready for the road. An easy enough job for him to do alone to end the work day and he spends the remainder of the night working on Cherry to make sure she’s fixed, muttering quietly to himself and sending thanks to a higher being that the crash only resulted in cosmetic damage.

“I’m headed home!” Taehyung calls when the clock struck six. “See you tomorrow, hyung!”

Namjoon waves enthusiastically at the young man, watching for a moment as Taehyung climbs inside a black vehicle filled with his friends. He never liked the people Taehyung chose to hang out with, always feeling like they’re out to cause trouble wherever they go and he’s usually right as Namjoon’s forced to bail them out of trouble far too many times, hence why he’s so close to the police. He’s known Taehyung since they were kids, having grown up in the same neighbourhood. With nothing much to do in their tiny city, they’d spend summers together in the fields, digging up dirt or running up the hills and making up games as they go. Although he’s a few years younger than Namjoon, the way Taehyung views the world sometimes makes him wonder if he was secretly an old man residing in a younger boy’s body. There’s a sense of wonder and curiosity one might expect from a child, but Taehyung also has that wise knowing look about him that allows people to confide their troubles easily. At the end of the day, however, he’s still a young man that gets himself in far more trouble than anyone Namjoon’s ever known.

Sighing, he finishes up Cherry, pouting slightly at the missing front bumper that gives her a permanent gasping sort of look. The part won’t come until next Sunday and he chews the inside of his cheek, wondering if you’ll mind if he shows up with a wacky looking car. As he cleans up his tools and wipes down his workspace, he looks out the windows to find the stars taking resident up in the sky.

It’s a beautiful night as any for a drive.

So, Namjoon takes the long way home, driving past buildings and winding roads, trying to see if there’s anyone that would be willing to race. Much to his dismay, the streets are empty tonight and so he drives himself back home, ready to crack open a beer and maybe watch some television to relax and unwind for the remainder of the evening.

---

Namjoon groans as he hears the telephone ring from the kitchen. He lets it sing, pulling the covers up past his ears and silently cursing the person on the other line. Just when the shrill noise stops, the silence slowly coaxing him back into sleep, it starts back up again. He rips the covers from his body, eyes bleary, and shuffles to his feet, grumbling as he notes the time: 3:22 in the goddamn morning.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” he mutters to no one in particular. “Hello?”

“Hyung, it’s me. Can you hear me?”

“Taehyung?” Namjoon blinks, worry seizing his throat when he hears his friend sounding panicky; the drowsiness he felt earlier instantly dissipating. “What’s wrong? Where are you?”

“I fucked up, man. I got caught in a rumble and- and- I now owe this guy money. Fuck! Can you come here and get me?”

There’s no need for Taehyung to explain any further; something always goes wrong when he hangs out with that gang of his and Namjoon hopes it’s another one of those nights that he can resolve quickly. He reassures the other man that everything’s going to be okay after asking Taehyung for his exact location and jotting it down on a piece of paper, he’s off, slipping into a pair of shoes. “Wait for me; I’m on my way,” he promises into the night air as he locks his apartment behind him.

The sun hasn’t risen yet when Namjoon peels away from his driveway, heart stammering loudly in his chest as he kicks Cherry into gear. “Come on, come on!” he growls, punching the steering wheel in hopes he can get his chariot to go faster.

Taehyung’s on the other side of town, a raunchy place usually filled with ill-intentions and bad decisions, so it comes to no one’s surprise that he’s caught up in something shady. Double-checking his address, Namjoon parks wildly, the front tire above the cub before bolting out of the carriage, unkindly slamming the driver’s side shut before walking around between the buildings and calling out Taehyung’s name.

“Hyung!”

Namjoon turns around, relief washing over his nerves until he catches sight on the figure standing next to Taehyung.

“What did he do this time?” Namjoon mutters under his breath. Pushing his hands inside his jeans, he conjures up a mask of indifference as he walks up to the two men, watching Taehyung’s face for signs of danger, but the man hosts no bruises on his face, if anything he just looks like he’s only slightly shaken up. Catching his eye, Taehyung gives him the smallest shake of his head, but the hand on his thigh makes a peace sign, a signal to Namjoon to indicate that there’s two more of Yongjin’s friends lurking in the shadows somewhere.

“Yongjin,” Namjoon greets curtly.

To live in this city is to know the name Cho Yongjin. He’s the eldest son to a prolific family riddled with hidden secrets that possibly connect them to an even bigger crime syndicate. In essence, messing around with the Chos is never a good idea. Namjoon’s tired brain tries to come up with possible scenarios that would land Taehyung in this sort of trouble, but he waits patiently, tongue prodding the inside of his cheek in hopes that Yongjin thinks it’s out of irritation and not nervousness.

“Ah, if it isn’t Big Bro Namjoon!” Yongjin calls mockingly. “Taehyung said he has a friend that could help him out of this predicament. I didn’t think he’d call you. Do you even have the money?”

“Just let him go, Cho. Whatever Taehyung got himself in this time, I’m sure we can work out a deal.”

Yongjin laughs at his words, head thrown back and mouth wide open, before his face morphs into an ugly scowl. His black hair is greased with oil, slicked back perfectly as he plays with the straps of his leather jacket. “No, no. This one owes me a little too much for me to get into another deal with him.��

“How much?”

“How about fifteen grand worth in cash?”

Namjoon balks at the statement, taking a full step back before his eyes land on Taehyung. The younger boy winces at the number, shrinking considerably into his dark hoodie even though he stands several feet taller than Yongjin. “Taehyung,” Namjoon says slowly. “What the fuck did you do?”

There’s an inkling that tells Namjoon it has something to do with gambling and probably the rumble he mentioned over the phone, and when Taehyung parrots what he’s thinking, it feels like someone’s stabbed him repeatedly in the chest. Not one for the party scene, Namjoon can’t fathom how one wracks up fifteen grand in debt, but he nods, turning his steely gaze from Taehyung back to Yongjin.

“Make a deal with me then. Let’s race. You know my reputation. If I lose… I’ll give you Cherry and pay you back Taehyung’s dues. If I win, you clear his debt. Fifteen grand is mere nuggets for your family, yeah?”

Sweat drips from his brow down his face as he watches Yongjin ruminate, lips pursed and a finger tapping on his chin. It’s a tempting offer, but is it enough? Cherry isn’t exactly a luxury brand vehicle, although she’s well known around the city because of Namjoon’s driving skills.

“How about this: if you lose, give me Cherry andyou’ll quit your job at Max to come be my chauffeur until you have enough to cover Taehyung’s debt.”

A fate worse than death.

Working for the Chos as a driver driver could mean a variety of things: from driving him from one illicit affair to another or being in contact with some of the more dangerous criminals out there and Namjoon isn’t sure he’s comfortable with that. But… if it’s for Taehyung—

“Deal.” His voice wavers slightly, but he sticks to his resolve. “Where are we racing?”

“How about Crestone Peak?”

Winding roads, barely any light… if he crashed there, he’s as good as dead. Namjoon’s sure of his skills, but even the most seasoned street racer is nervous when they’re forced to face the infamous peak. To make matters worse, Namjoon hears a rumble of thunder above him. Great. It might rain too, which makes the road all the more treacherous.

“Whatever you say,” he resigns. “I’ll meet you there.”

He turns around and walks back to his car without waiting for Yongjin to respond. When he starts the engine, worry knots in his stomach and he isn’t sure if he was going to throw up or to cry. Namjoon’s grip on the steering wheel tightens; a quiet hum of determination slowly replacing the uneasiness. He can do this. He will win.

And with enough luck, he hopes that he and Taehyung goes home safely tonight.

There’s a date he needs to get to.

---

Taehyung doesn’t say a word as he slides into Namjoon’s car. Whatever apologies that lie on his tongue is silenced when the older man throws a simmering gaze from the side, so Taehyung busies himself by staring absentmindedly at the zooming lights and buildings, the rain making the colours bleed into the darkness and he hopes it isn’t a bad omen of some kind. Namjoon can sense the nervousness rolling off the younger man seated next to him; catching glimpses of Taehyung nibbling his nails and the bouncing of his leg, sighing occasionally while raking his fingers in his dark hair.

Namjoon breaks the silence by turning the radio on, though the host’s words filter in his ear and back out again. “I’ll be okay, kid,” he sighs, throwing a not-so convincing smile in Taehyung’s direction before returning his gaze on the road. “You know I’m the best fucking racer this town has ever seen. Sure, I’m not a professional, but I sure as hell won’t lose to the likes of Yongjin.”

Taehyung snorts from beside him, but there’s a quiet, shuddering intake of breath and Namjoon spares another glance at the dark-haired man, only to find his head in his hands. In a broken voice sounding much younger and defeated unlike how he normally carries himself, Taehyung sobs. “I’m sorry, hyung, I fucked up. I- I shouldn’t have let it go this deep. I should’ve told you earlier.”

“You should’ve,” Namjoon agrees, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “But what’s done is done. Let’s win this race, head home, and grab a beer, yeah? I’ll ring Max and let him know what happened in the morning. I’m sure one of the other boys can cover your shift.”

There’s a bit of silence only punctured by the quiet chattering of radio and Taehyung’s sniffles. Namjoon exhales, bringing his hand to clasp Taehyung’s shoulder and squeezing it a few times for reassurance. “So, are you going to tell me what happened? Paint me a picture on what got you into this mess?”

“It’s… ridiculous. Me and the boys have been playing cards, and I kept losing. So, I borrowed money from a friend a couple of times,” Taehyung stares at the rain again as he tugs a few strands of his hair. “When I couldn’t pay him back, we started throwing punches – I don’t think I started it, though. That’s when Yongjin and his crew showed up and paid the guy, saying that I can pay him back over time. I didn’t know that meant interest…” he spits, slamming his fist on to his lap.

“I- I thought it wouldn’t be anything as high as fifteen grand. Maybe a couple hundred at most, which I could cover by picking up extra shifts.”

Namjoon nods as he listens to Taehyung’s explanation. It made sense. Yongjin – the Chos – isn’t someone to play fair when it comes to money. He wonders briefly how long this has gone on without his knowledge, but that’s another question he’ll save for another day. They’re nearing the last bend in the road, a large sign with the words ‘Crestone Peak’ coming into view, paired with a yellow hazardous symbol with a black exclamation point reminding people to be careful on the trail. Namjoon snickers bitterly at the irony.

Yongjin’s navy Chrysler is just up ahead, right before the opening that leads to dangerous winding trails and lack of streetlights beyond. In the day, Crestone Peak is beautiful – trees with various height jutting up to the sky and the sounds of animals chittering quietly on the ground. There’s a road for pedestrians to the side and Namjoon would often see old couples and families walking hand in hand halfway before stopping at the rest area, usually opening picnic baskets and dining as they watch flocks of birds flying overhead. Of course, there’s also the ‘Crestone Challenge’, an annual charity marathon that supports Hope Hospital with more medical equipment for their staff and the city has made it its goal to bring in as many people as possible to participate – the streets during that weekend are usually filled with laughter and food and balloons. In the din of night and with the rain thundering on the rooftop of his vehicle, however, Crestone Peak looks more like a beast; with an open maw that seems ready to swallow any foolish riders into the darkness.

For a brief moment, just before Namjoon turns off the ignition to greet Yongjin, his thoughts drift to you. He chuckles to himself when he hears you nag – his mind conjuring up a visage of your face with furrowed eyebrows and that tight lipped grimace, telling him to turn back and go home and to not do anything dangerous for god’s sakes. You’d flip your lid for sure if you knew what Namjoon’s about to do. But the time on the dashboard now reads fifteen minutes to four thirty and despite the anxiety clutching his heart, he’s comforted with the thought that you’re sleeping soundly in your bed, somewhere in this city and away from danger.

“Yongjin,” Namjoon shouts as he exits the car. Taehyung follows suit, hoodie pulled up past his head though it’ll soon be soaked anyway with the thick curtain of rain falling from the sky.

Namjoon struts confidently towards the man despite his thunderous heart. Yongjin’s dark eyes flit between Cherry and Namjoon, a snake-like smile appearing on his thin lips a moment later. One of his friends? Subordinates? Namjoon isn’t sure – is holding an umbrella over Yongjin’s head, keeping the sleazy man dry while the rain pelts his clothes, turning the white shirt translucent and his hair plastered on his face. The friend-subordinate remains impassive, bored, as though it’s a nightly occurrence for him and Namjoon reckons it probably is.

The sound of his name brings him back to the present and he watches Yongjin snap his ruddy fingers into the air. Another man exits out of a car, carrying with him a large black briefcase before setting it on the Chrysler’s trunk, bowing swiftly to Yongjin as he waits for his next order.

“Open it up.”

Namjoon hears a gasp from behind him, forgetting for a moment that Taehyung is still there. His eyes widen when he takes a step forward to inspect the contents of the briefcase. Stacks of cash line every inch of the velvet interior and Namjoon has enough sense to not gawk, quickly turning away to meet Yongjin’s eyes again.

“What’s this?” he demands, fisting his hands into his jeans. The cold from the rain is starting to take effect – he didn’t have time to grab a coat when he left his apartment to come to Taehyung’s rescue and the thin shirt he’s wearing underneath does little to protect him against the wind.

“Just some extra… incentive,” Yongjin snickers, waving his hand again. The man next to him bows, closing the briefcase with a snap taking his place next to the umbrella-holding man. “If you win, Kim Namjoon, not only will I clear your brother’s debt there, I will also pay to commend you for a job well done.”

Was he so confident in his ability to win that he’s willing to bet so much? Namjoon bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling. No, this was just the way the Chos operate. Playing mind games to increase the stakes – giving their opponents a false sense of security. There’s something else behind the promise and Namjoon will be damned if he doesn’t find out. Swallowing thickly, he nods, hoping that he’s right.

“And in return?”

“Smart guy,” Yongjin smirks. “Set me up with that pretty doll of yours, huh? The one that’s got you on such a hook.”

Everything slows. The deafening sound of rain ceases to exist as he stops breathing, the cold in his veins snaking up and stilling his heart. Namjoon didn’t have time to ponder how Yongjin knows about you before he launches himself into the man with a snarl, fist raised to deliver a punch square on his smug face. Taehyung’s barely quick enough to hold him back, arms wrapped around his midsection as he pulls a thrashing Namjoon away, shouting his name and reminding him to stay calm.

Yongjin just smiles, laughing quietly to himself. “Save that energy for the drag, Kim Namjoon. Let’s get this show on the road, yeah?”

Namjoon spits on the ground, eyes burning with fury as he shakes himself away from Taehyung, holding up a hand and taking shuddering breaths to let the younger man know that he’s okay. Furious, but okay. “Same rules?”

“Yeah. Up the peak and then down again. No more than 100 metres between us or you lose. If you manage to get ahead of me, you win instantly. Guaranteed.”

Letting the rain cool his heated skin, he manages to temper his seething rage, locking his jaw tightly as he screws his eyes shut. “Let’s do it, bitch,” Namjoon growls, whipping around to trudge towards his car, sliding into the familiar driver’s seat to start the ignition.

“Hyung- hyung!”

Namjoon hadn’t realized Taehyung had slid in next to him and is surprised to find a hand clutching tightly at his shoulder. Though there isn’t a rule against having passengers in the race, he’s wary for the younger man’s safety and would prefer if he waited in the rain, so he hands Taehyung an umbrella from the backseat as he relays that information. Taehyung nods, letting out a slow, shuddering exhale from his nose.

“Please be careful.”

“I have a date to go to next week. I sure as hell ain’t missing that,” Namjoon smirks wryly, squeezing Taehyung’s shoulder in return. “I’ll be fine. Just watch my lights, kids. Oh, and if the fuzz comes, beat feet. Don’t worry about me.”

With a shared nod and a beat of silence, Taehyung exits the car, a grim line on his face as he watches Namjoon drive the car behind the Chrysler, engine revving loudly. The two men that accompanied Yongjin has stepped away to the side of the road, umbrella shared between them. If it weren’t for the set of circumstances at hand and the hard glare and scowl plastered on their faces, the scene would look almost adorable; a start of a romantic comedy starring two men drenched in the cold. Namjoon lets out a quiet chuckle, appeasing his nerves somewhat.

“Ready?” The shout brings his attention to the road, eyes staring hard at the rain-slicked windows as he waits with bated breath.

The race usually starts whenever the tires squeal on the ground, but this is a more sophisticated affair and Namjoon suppose that requires a countdown. As soon as the handkerchief leaves the man’s hand, Yongjin peels off and Namjoon follows suit, making sure to stay as close within the 100 metre limit as possible, gauging his distance by his ability to see the top of the Chrysler’s license plate.

Winding turn after winding turn, Namjoon shifts his gears from three to four to five, Cherry getting louder as she protests against the speed, tires barely gripping on the uneven and slippery ground. Yet, she persists, letting Namjoon maneuver her every which way, even through the sheet of rain that creates a cacophony of noise inside the interior of the car. At the final bend, Yongjin wavers, tires losing its grip on the pavement as its side screeches into the guard rail.

“Oh, fuck!” Namjoon curses, barely managing to hit the breaks just before he barrels into the Chrysler. Through the black tinted windows, Namjoon can make out Yongjin’s silhouette pounding at his steering wheel. He’s about to exit the car to ensure that he’s okay, but the car in front of him revvs his engine again, eager to continue what he started.

Muttering quietly to himself, Namjoon clicks his tongue, eyebrows furrowed to the centre of his forehead, “Fucker’s flipped his lid.”

He watches silently as Yongjin removes his Chrysler from the wreckage, some of the pieces of metal falling into the depths below. Swallowing thickly, he prays to a higher being that this isn’t some sort of bad omen. Namjoon reverses the car, giving Yongjin ample space to maneuver out of the pit; a courteous act that could cause him to lose the race, but it’s the one that provides safety for his opponent. As the Chrysler regains traction on the road, he shifts his gears once more – from one to two to three – and the race continues, Namjoon keeping up easily despite the heavy downpour. He notices the Chrysler’s side dip close to the ground – a flat tire, most likely and he whistles into the air, impressed by the machine’s resilience. He doesn’t dare assume he’ll win – there’s a lot of factors that are outside of his control, but the earlier crash might work in his favour after all.

The grip on his steering wheel tightens; knuckles white and palm sweating, yet he keeps his eyes staring straight ahead, so focused on the license plate that he’s sure to remember the string of numbers when he closes his eyes that night. There’s a left turn up ahead that allows two cars to drive side-by-side for a moment, but manuevering Cherry in the downpour where the area is caked with mud is a dangerous stunt; one wrong move and Namjoon could potentially blast Yongjin into the depths below. Mouth pulled into a grim line, he only had a few seconds to decide. Should he maintain his distance until the race ends? Does he have the courage to wager another human’s life (even one so shitty as Yongjin) so he could ensure his victory once and for all?

Your face flashes again in his mind. “I’m sorry,” he whispers with a strained laugh, having made a decision, one that he can’t say he’s too proud of. Namjoon slams his foot on the gas, shifting the gear to the fifth slot and push Cherry into a lurching speed, the scenery a mixture of black and dark green from the windows. Holding his breath, time stands to a still as he speeds up, using the other lane to bring himself neck-and-neck to Yongjin. Just as he turns the bend, he passes the Chrysler and slams on the breaks, tires screeching loudly on the slippery ground as if he’s about to crash into the other car.

Please work, he prays silently.

With enough sense, Yongjin slams his breaks as well, the engine stalling and shutting off as he tries to avoid a second crash. Namjoon cheers, bringing his fist into the air and colliding it to the roof as his foot returns to the gas pedal, peeling away from the halted Chrysler and into the night, imagining the owner cursing behind the wheel.

He did it.

It was foolish and dangerous, but he did it. Heart hammering loudly in his chest, Namjoon’s grin widens when he spots a very tiny Taehyung jumping in the air for joy, fist in the air and umbrella falling on the ground. He allows himself to breathe. It isn’t over yet, there’s still a few sharp turns until the finish line, where the road opens up a bit more, providing ample space for the navy vehicle to pass him by if Yongjin’s smart enough. Namjoon doesn’t like to count his chickens before they hatch, so he pushes Cherry to her limit, ensuring a great deal of distance between his trunk and the front grill of the Chrysler.

“Come on, doll, give me all you got, yeah?” Namjoon encourages Cherry with a few firm slaps on the dashboard, shifting his gear for the last time.

In a blink and it’s all over. Yongjin couldn’t keep up after his crash on the peak and from the stalled engine from earlier, luxury brand or not, the Chrysler reached its limit, allowing Namjoon’s Thunderbird to cruise down the remaining bends with ease before stopping just past the ‘Crestone Peak’ sign. Relief washes over him at the victory and Namjoon groans, feeling the muscles tightening after enduring the stress. He smiles through the pain, however, knowing that it’s a valid excuse to visit you today.

Taehyung rips open the driver’s side door to shout incoherently, words drowning in the rain and adrenaline that still courses in his bloodstream. There’s a lot of expletives thrown around and the sound of his name, but all Namjoon could manage is a small smirk and occasional laughter, still feeling weak and reeling.

“Hyung. Thank you.” It’s the most sincere voice Namjoon’s ever heard from his friend and he chuckles, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Don’t mention it.”

Taehyung continues to gush, but the victory is short lived. The sound of tires screeching on pavement catches their attention and suddenly, Namjoon’s staring at a pair of headlights that’s hurtling closer at an incredible speed. He had a split second to react, and with whatever strength he has left, he pushes Taehyung backwards, noting the fear in the younger man’s face as his eyes widen, mouth hanging open while empty hands tries to grab a hold of Namjoon.

But he’s too slow.

There’s a loud crash and his body is shot backwards, tumbling into the soft earth as pain blooms like flowers all over his skin. Namjoon groans, dizzy and disoriented – a loud ringing in his ears making it hard for him to focus. He hears Taehyung shout his name in horror, and the squelching noise of boots sliding down on earth, but everything is muffled. Namjoon finds tears in the younger man’s eyes and he lifts his hand only for it to fall back on his chest. He wants to assure him that he’s fine, but with no strength left, his voice comes out in gurgles and tasting like iron in his mouth. His eyes are refusing to stay open, mind being pulled under a heavy blanket of hurt.

And the last thing he hears before the world fades to black is Taehyung’s broken voice.

“NAMJOON!”

══════ ∘◦❀◦∘ ══════

“There you go, sweetie, make sure you remind mommy to take her medication, okay?” you smile, winking at the young girl as her mother bows and mutters her thanks. The girl gives you a toothy smile, promising that she’ll take care of her mum in your absence, waving cutely as the pair exit your office.

It’s just another morning for you, filled with patients and reports that require your attention. You stretch, feeling strangely stiff despite only sitting for an hour. You allow yourself a moment of silence as you finish typing up your notes, sipping your tea with a hum before calling the next patient inside.

“Mrs. Chen,” you stand, greeting the elderly woman with a smile. “Please come on in. How’s yo—”

The frantic call of your name captures your attention away. You turn your head towards your closed door, wondering if it’s just your imagination. When you hear it again, you’re already moving, excusing yourself from a terrified looking Mrs. Chen as you throw her a quick, strained smile, assuring her that everything is just fine. As soon as you step foot outside, the lobby is a mess of thundering feet and gasps and it takes you a dizzying moment to grab the nearest nurse, demanding an explanation.

“There’s someone calling for you, doc,” he explains breathlessly. “In the ER – it’s bad.”

That’s all the information you need. Feet pounding against the white tile, you speed to the emergency lobby to come face-to-face with a man that you vaguely know, his face oddly familiar though you’re sure you’ve never met him before. But you have no time to dwell on where you could’ve encountered such a handsome stranger because it’s what he’s holding that makes you stop cold in your tracks, the blood freezing instantly in your veins.

In his trembling arms lies a very broken Namjoon, right foot twisting in the wrong direction and blood dripping onto the floor over a gash on his forehead. If you screamed, you had no recollection of it, because you’re instantly in action, directing and calling out nurses to assist you as you instruct the young man to lay Namjoon down on the hospital bed, the white sheets turning red instantly upon contact.

“Please. S-Save him,” the dark-haired man begs, tears flooding his face as his body shakes with panic.

It’s his eyes that caused a surge of memory to come forth – of Namjoon bringing in photos of him in one of his visits as he explains about how he’s more like a younger brother than a friend; telling you stories about the myriads of trouble he’s gotten into in the past. Swallowing thickly, you instruct the nearest nurse to bring him a blanket and some tea, hoping it’ll calm the young man down while you steel yourself to face Namjoon. The lobby is frantic, your team of nurses calling out numbers: heartrate, blood pressure, oxygen levels and the like, but it all fades to the background, their words muffled as you hear the sound of your own blood rushing in your ears. This isn’t the time to panic, you chastise yourself quickly. You have to go. Now.

With a pounding heart, you force yourself to enter the emergency room, your eyes straining as you assess Namjoon’s unconscious figure, double checking the clipboard that is thrusted into your open hands. A nurse rattles off the numbers again while you wash your hands, and you breathe a little easier, the textbook information in your head reminding you that he’s stable and not in any immediate danger.

“He’s hooked to the IV? Good. How much blood has he lost? Okay, that should be all right. He’ll be fine.” Your voice doesn’t sound like it belongs to you, but you continue to work, asking for scissors as you slice open his clothes to take a look at the damage. Your eyes roam quickly over his exposed figure, instructions falling from your lips as you guide your team through every procedure.

From your assessment, Namjoon’s condition isn’t as bad as the multiple bruises and blood suggested – two broken ribs and a broken leg; the gash on his forehead thankfully isn’t deep and won’t require much stitching either. Tears of relief start to well in your eyes, but you take a shuddering breath, trying to keep your emotions in check as you close the last stitch, grateful for the additional pairs of hands that’s helping you from all sides.

Your breathing is laboured when you’re done and Namjoon’s heartbeat no longer looking like jagged mountains gives you an even greater sense of solace as you slump in a nearby chair. He’s going to be okay. The nurses around you whisper as such and you nod mutely. With a heavy heart, you tear yourself away from Namjoon’s side, letting the nurses dress his wounds up with practiced ease as you exit out of the room to talk to the man outside.

Blinking into the sun, a glance at your watch shows that you’ve been in the room with Namjoon for longer than a couple of hours, though it felt like a few minutes barely passed by. You find the man in the lobby, nodding asleep for a few minutes before jerking awake, dark circles underneath his eyes. When he spots your approaching figure, he stands abruptly, blanket falling away from his shoulders to pool around the plastic chair. His bottom lip begins to quiver and fresh tears wets his cheeks as you slump next to him, urging him to sit with a wave of your hand.

“Is he…”

“He’s going to be just fine,” you reassure him, flashing him a tired smile.

You listen quietly while he – Taehyung is his name – talks about the race, about the debts, and about Cho Yongjin. The story he’s telling doesn’t make a lick of sense; exhaustion and stress slurring his speech, but you can piece together the gist of it and though you want to be mad at the foolish man in front of you, there’s not a shred of energy left for you to nag. So, you pat him in the shoulder and asked him to go home; to shower and sleep before returning to the hospital.

Peace returns quickly after the commotion and you spend the rest of your afternoon rescheduling appointments with your patients, apologising profusely at the inconvenience today’s events might have caused. Clearing your schedule for the rest of your shift, you make your way towards Namjoon’s room, opening the door quietly after taking a few deep breaths.

There’s never a time in all your education that could have prepared you for this very moment. You can write recipes for medicine that no one knows how to pronounce or recite with your eyes closed the chemical components that make up aspirin, but watching Namjoon unconscious in the bed, blues and purples marring his skin?

This is fresh hell.

And you’d endure all the pain and studying that got you this damn job if it means Namjoon wakes up from his slumber.

You take his hand in yours, pressing your warm forehead on the back of his cool palm. In the quiet of his room with the sounds of beeping machines and sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains, you screw your eyes shut, thinking about his laughter and the dimpled smiles he’d throw your way.

“Please wake up soon. You still owe me a date, yeah? Come back to me, Joon,” you whisper, but no one answers.

Kim Namjoon.

Careful to avoid the stitches on his forehead, you push his hair away from his face while letting out a shuddering sigh. You gaze at his sleeping form for a long time, heart aching at the scraps and blooming bruises all over his skin. You had no plans of falling for this man, but after countless hospital visits and conversations, you find yourself thinking about Namjoon more often than you’d like to admit.

It started out with a simple ‘I wonder what he’s doing now’ while you’re filling out paperwork until it gradually evolved into actively searching for his dark mop of hair in the waiting room. He rarely comes in with any grievous injuries, only simple ones that hardly require your attention, but you wanted to be the one to examine him anyway – going through the bells and whistles you wouldn’t provide to a normal patient.

You wonder if he knew of every instance you stalled him from leaving; after all, a paper cut hardly requires a stethoscope to the chest. But every time he walks out the hospital doors with a wink and a promise to return, there’s a mixture of elation and disquiet in your heart, fearing that the back you’ve been watching for so long will disappear one day.

Odd. This man is odd.

“Namjoon,” you whimper, voice strained and broken. You’ve nagged him to be careful, made him swear not to do anything dangerous. So, how dare he come back to the hospital so quickly to disrupt your quiet work day? How could he ask you out on a date only to end up badly injured and unconscious?

You long for his smile, for those adorable dimples that tug at your heart strings, but his face remains impassive – captured in sleep.

And finally, after holding yourself in check in front of Taehyung and the nurses, your mask slips and you let yourself sob.

══════ ∘◦❀◦∘ ══════

Pain.

Lots and lots of fucking pain.

From his leg, to his chest. Even breathing fucking hurt. Namjoon tries to groan, but that only amplifies the scratchiness of his throat and his displeasure only grows when he sees that he’s been fitted into one of those plastic, green hospital gowns which make a racket of noise every time he moves. Unable to sit up, he’s forced to take a look at his unfamiliar surroundings by just turning his head. Memories of the race come flooding in: the dangerous turn, the victory, and then a pair of headlights before everything turns black.

Yongjin.

Anger boils under his skin as Namjoon thinks bitterly about the slimy man, hoping that he gets what he deserves. He doesn’t need his fucking money as long as he stays the fuck away from Taehyung. He flinches when he hears the door open; pain blooming on his neck when he cranes his head over the bed rail to see his visitor. And, oh, despite being furious just moments before, he sighs, a smile worming his way into his features when you walk in.

“Namjoon?” you whisper in disbelief, hands coming to cup your mouth as your clipboard clatters to the floor.

“Hey,” he manages to croak out with a lopsided smile, voice gruff from unuse. “What’s up, doc?”

“Oh my god.”

Namjoon groans quietly when you charge towards the bed with a speed that matches Cherry, apologies fluttering past your trembling lips as you cradle his head into an embrace. He feels tears on his scalp and though he wants to hug you right back, his limbs scream with exhaustion, so he sits lamely with his hands by his side, waiting for you to finish.

“Hey, hey, I’m okay,” he whispers into your arm, Adam’s apple bobbing as tears prick in his own eyes.

After some time, you manage to extract yourself from his head with a loud sniffle, settling on a chair next to his bed. You fill him in on all the details he’s missed: he’s been asleep for three days (“Not uncommon,” you reassure him); Yongjin is behind bars for attempted murder; and the best news of all? Taehyung and Cherry are both fine.

“And you?” he asks after you help him take a large swig of water. “Are you fine?”

Your eyes soften at his question and his heart wrenches in his chest when you bite your bottom lip to keep them from trembling. “I wasn’t,” you mumble, eyes casting downwards on the empty plastic cup in your hand. “I was scared and I didn’t know what to do and I… I thought I’d lost you.”

Namjoon hums, whispering your name to get you to look up. He musters the most brilliant smile he can manage. “You didn’t lose me. I’m right here.”

You exhale loudly, a small smile on your lips. To Namjoon’s surprise, you take his hand and thread your fingers through the spaces, kissing each digit gently. When your eyes meet his dark ones again, he sees the raw emotion behind them; of a calm shore at the end a heavy the storm. “I’m okay now. I’m glad you’re awake.”

The two of you gaze into each other’s eyes, the world melting away slowly until the only thing that exists in Namjoon’s sight is you.

Just you.

“We’re going to have to get a rain check on our date, huh, doc?” Namjoon grins lopsidedly, trying to ease his hammering heartbeat. “I mean, until I’m better at least.”

You make a short snorting sound, covering your mouth with your empty hand. “You need to get better quickly then.”

A quiet whimper of protest escapes from his throat when you stand, but he knows you have other patients to attend to, so he lets you go. Just as your hand grazes the handle of the door, he calls your name. You turn around with a tilt of your chin, eyebrows furrowed and eyes darting around to make sure that he’s not in pain.

“I like you,” Namjoon confesses with a bright dimpled smile.

There’s a tension in your shoulders as you blink at him, head tilting to the side as your brain registers his confession. He keeps his steady gaze on you until your mouth slowly falls open and your hand clasps over it, eyes bulging after connecting the dots. The two of you stare at each other for a moment, Namjoon’s grin growing wider as you start to flounder for words.

“I- I like you too,” you admit quietly, flashing him a small smile. Namjoon snickers when you clear your throat in embarrassment, turning haphazardly around and banging your clipboard loudly on the door, causing you to jump backwards in surprise. You join him in his boisterous laughter at your clumsiness, raking your hands through your hair. With a final glance at Namjoon, you leave the room, lab coat fluttering behind you as you close the door shut.

---

“Ow, ow, be gentle with me, will ya?” Namjoon pouts, protruding his bottom lip as you change his bandages. “I’m an injured man!”

Before you can retort, the door opens, laughter filtering in the room as Taehyung stands in the doorway. “Aww, hyung, don’t be such a wuss!” he laughs, popping an orange slice in his mouth while watching the entire scene unfold.

He’s been visiting the hospital frequently since the accident, usually no more than a few hours at most to share a few stories from the shop or his day-to-day life. Much to Namjoon’s surprise, he admitted to distancing himself from his so-called ‘friends’ after what happened, swearing that he never wants to put anyone he loves in that kind of position again.

“No friends of mine would ever think of endangering my life,” Taehyung mourned in one of his earlier visits. “Seeing you on the ground… that’s what changed. I mean, my life is pretty boring now without them, but I have you and the fellas at the shop.”

Namjoon’s proud of him for making such a mature decision and when he expressed as such, Taehyung laughs bitterly before choking back a sob, apologies spilling from his lips as he presses his head on Namjoon’s bed. He merely strokes the younger man’s hair as his tears stain the white sheets, reminding him that he’s – for the most part – all right and unharmed.

Then, there’s you.

The first couple of days of medication and sleep left a tinge of haziness in Namjoon’s memory, but he could faintly recall the quiet click of the door opening and a warm hand enveloping his in all hours of the day and sometimes, well into the night, along with gentle whispers of praise and gratefulness that he’s alive. The two of you haven’t talked about the confession since it happened and Namjoon has been dying to understand the depths of your feelings.

He watches you talk animatedly with Taehyung as he takes up the empty chair in the room, wondering when the pair had time to get closer to the point where they’re comfortable enough with one another to poke fun at Namjoon. His laughter is strained and high-pitch when Taehyung mentioned his crush on you, cheeks burning and eyes falling to his lap to avoid further embarrassment.

The mirth disappears when your hand ghosts over his ribs, accidentally prodding a little too hard on the bruise. “OW!” Namjoon jerks, causing the bed to rattle. He hisses in pain while looking tearily up at you. “What was that for?”

The scowl on your face isn’t reassuring, but it’s one of concern instead of irritation. “Sorry,” you quickly mutter, going back to touch his chest with gentler fingers. “I want to check on your ribs to see if they’re healing properly. There’s nothing alarming, besides the fact that you’re blue.”

Namjoon grimaces, looking down on his naked torso at the cuts and bruises marring the skin. He had been lucky to be alive, a fact you frequently point out when he whines and pouts over syringes, especially after getting hit directly by Yongjin’s car. Thinking about the bastard behind bars gives him a sense of comfort, though he knows it wouldn’t be long before his family would make bail.

He shakes his head to clear the image, not wanting to think about the short man with a sleazy grin, and trying to focus instead on the words he missed coming out of Taehyung’s mouth. “Huh? What was that?”

“I asked if the two of you are dating now.”

A blanket of silence stretches across the three of you. Taehyung looks puzzled, eyes flickering from Namjoon’s stricken face to your flustered one. His eyes slowly widen as realization dawns on him and he abruptly stands up, popping the rest of his orange slices in his mouth, wincing at the strong taste of citrus. “Uh, I have somewhere to be!” he stammers quickly, dusting himself off and bolting towards the door. Taehyung throws Namjoon a look that conveys his apologies, laughing forcefully before he leaves. “I’ll come by, um, tomorrow, maybe – yeah! See you guys later!”

The door slams shut.

Namjoon’s dumbfounded, staring at the space where Taehyung had taken up residence not five seconds ago, wishing he could wrap his hands around the brunette’s neck. He turns his face towards you hesitantly, slightly afraid of what he’ll find, but your eyes are on your clipboard, pen scribbling away as you jot down notes about the status of his recovery.

“Sooo…” he begins, scratching his head with his hand. Namjoon’s not really sure what to say, his brain is coming up with nothing as his gaze shifts between you and the blanket on his lap. “Uh, that was kind of weird, huh?”

You hum in response, eyes never leaving your paperwork. As the silence continues to settle, awkwardness reared its ugly head and mocks Namjoon, at his flushed cheeks and sweaty forehead. He clears his throat a couple of times, but the words die in his throat and – fuck – did the room get hotter somehow?

“Well, Joon” – he didn’t mean to jump, but he does anyway when you address him so casually – “it looks like everything checks out. You’ll probably be able to leave within a few weeks if your leg heals up nicely…” You trail off, brows knitted together. “Are you in any sort of pain? What’s wrong?”

A pang of relief and disappointment washes over Namjoon at the question – you didn’t hear what Taehyung said. He stares at you for a heartbeat, wondering if he should repeat it. His mouth opens and closes a few times before eventually settling with: “What are you doing after this?”

You bring your pen to tap on your chin, mouth pressed into a thin line and head tilted to the side. “I’m actually done for the day and was about to head home. Why? Are you still hungry after dinner?” you quiz teasingly, winking in his direction. “I can probably sneak you some jello from the cafeteria if you want?”

The offer is tempting. Namjoon shakes his head, bringing his hands up to stop you. “No, no – I was wondering if you can stay, y’know… with me?”

“Yeah! For sure, what’s on your mind?”

Fuck. He hasn’t thought this far ahead.

Like a car with a bad battery, his brain stalls while trying to find conversation topics because all he really wants is to ask you the question that’s been on the tip of his tongue since Taehyung left. Namjoon’s faced his fears numerous times when it comes to street racing, getting caught by the fuzz being high up the list, but this is much, much worse than the threat of prison.

He exhales slowly, eyes finding yours again. His shaky hands envelope your small ones and he closes his eyes for a moment. “I like you,” he breathes, watching the way you blink rapidly at his sudden confession. “I know you’ve said you liked me too and… I want to make things official. Do you want to go steady with me?”

“As in be your girlfriend?”

Namjoon nods, prodding his tongue to his cheek in hopes of looking nonchalant.

The heart monitor betrays his stoic expression. Fuck.

The shock written all over your face feels foreboding and Namjoon’s heart starts to sink, but then a small grin breaks through as you nod.

“I’d love to go steady with you, Joon,” you laugh, squeezing his hand gently.

He swears he could stand up and beat the Jaguar XK120 at a race after hearing your answer. He pulls you in for a hug, ignoring the throbbing pain in his side as you bump into him, half-stumbling into the bed and giggling as you hug him back awkwardly, flailing limbs still fitting perfectly around his neck.

“Thank you,” he beams, releasing you from his hold. “I swear when I’m all better, we can go on a real date. Like I promised.”

“I’d like that very much,” you grin.

A moment turned into a few hours and after leaving momentarily to grab your things, it turns into a whole night filled with conversation. You find yourself cramped by his side on the small hospital bed, swapping stories about street racing, Namjoon’s work as a mechanic, and life in general. He learned about your family and more in-depth about your studies, marveling at the well of knowledge that lies in your brain as you answer all his medical questions on the fly.

“So, you’re telling me that we’re developing technology that can reattach a finger?” he gasps.

“Yes! Isn’t that fascinating? Nerves and all. I don’t know when it’ll be available for the public, and I’m sure there’s going to be a high risk of failure when it comes to testing, but it’ll be great if it covers alllimbs and not just fingers,” you reply enthusiastically.

Namjoon just stares as you launch into a different topic, hands moving animatedly to make your point as you lie nestled on his chest. You had asked earlier in the night if you could turn the lights off, claiming that the fluorescent lights give you a headache and he’d obliged, but now, in the shroud of darkness with the pale moon barely shining through the sheer curtains, Namjoon wonders if he’s made a mistake. The conversation, although innocent, feels intimate when you’re the only two people in a dark room and if you paid attention to the heart monitor, you’d be able to see the spikes in the chart where his heart beats a little quicker in his chest.

“Namjoon?”

“Hm?” he asks, panicking slightly because he definitely has not been listening to what you’ve been saying for the past few minutes.

“Look at me real quick.”

Busted.

"Ah, I'm sorry for not paying attenti—"

The apologies that tumble from his lips are stolen by your own enveloping his, your thumb stroking his cheek delicately. He’s stunned for a moment as his brain catches up to the scene, but soon, he melts into the kiss, angling his head slightly to avoid bumping your nose as he wraps his arms around your waist. It starts off slow, tentative, as you explore each other's mouths, tongues colliding and intertwining, gasps uttered between millimetres of spaces. Namjoon tightens his hold around your waist, drinking you in as he moans into your mouth, fireworks exploding gently in his brain as his pulse takes over the beeping of the surrounding machines. You break apart to push yourself upwards, careful when you straddle his lap to avoid any of his injuries before resuming, but the kiss this time is hungrier – more desperate as you clutch his face firmly in your hands.

“Hey,” Namjoon gasps between breaths, pulling you away slightly while you continue to chase his lips. “Look at me, hey, baby, what’s wrong?”

He grips your shoulders gently before his palms sweep over your arms, watching the way your eyes dart across his face – at the worry that rests in your furrowed eyebrows and the downturned corners of your lips. “When you were unconscious,” you breathe, pushing his hair away from his forehead. “I didn’t think I understood what it meant to be afraid. Ever since then, I’ve felt this rush and… I just don’t want to lose you, Joon.”

Namjoon cups your cheek, and your eyes close when his thumb strokes your delicate, soft skin. “I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.”

You nod, a brilliant smile returning as you capture his lips once more, fingers threading through his hair. Namjoon’s arms wrap around your waist and bring you closer, pulling you into his chest. He runs his hands up and down your back, moaning when your hips start to grind on his lap. You took that opportunity to slip your tongue in his mouth, coaxing the muscle to meet with yours.

“I’m so fucking turned on and, god, you are not helping one bit,” Namjoon groans, tilting your chin upwards to place kisses on the length of your jaw. His other hand grips your waist, helping you rock against his hardening cock. “Fuck,if it weren’t for my injuries...” he trails off.

“Some other time when you’re all better, yeah? For now, let me take care of you,” you gasp, pushing Namjoon back on the bed to kiss his neck. Your lips sear into his skin, every bite sending shivers down his spine as he tips his head back and calls your name.

He palms your ass over your pants; your hips still rutting against his cock. Fireworks explode when he closes his eyes and it doesn't take long before he's breathless, pulse quickening when he feels your warm fingers trailing circles on his hip over the hospital gown. Namjoon slips his hand under your shirt, mimicking the motion on your lower back. You groan into his neck, suckling gently on the delicate skin. "Take it off?" Namjoon requests, tugging the waistband down.

With great effort and a lot of shuffling, you manage to get your pants off, flinging the offending material into the darkness. Namjoon stares at your semi-naked state, unable to believe that you were all his. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, voice wavering with emotion. “Come here.”

When your lips find his again, it’s like he’s racing for the very first time – the adrenaline coursing through his veins as he steals glances of the blurring scenery outside of his window. But it’s also different; because no race he’s ever won has made him feel so alive, like every nerve ending that exists in his body sings for you and only you. And when you moan, the sound makes him dizzy and disoriented, blood rushing to his head as he tries to savour every little noise you make in order to engrave them on his heart as best as he could.

“Lean back for me – yeah, I’m okay. Good girl,” Namjoon rasps, wetting his lips as you follow his instructions. Your hands are on the sides of the mattress, legs propped up, as you lean back, moaning when his large hands rub your thighs.

He pushes your underwear to the side to reveal your heated core. Namjoon watches carefully as his thumb runs up and down your slit. He notes every gasp – every twitch of your body as your eyes droop close, head falling back while you try to keep your legs open.

“That's my good girl, so wet for me already,” Namjoon chuckles quietly, cocking a playful eyebrow your way as his fingers spread your folds apart before immediately swiping at your clit with his thumb, occasionally adding pressure that makes you moan and shiver above him.

“Joon,” you pant, hips starting to buck into his hands. “Want you. Put your fingers inside of me, please?”

“Not yet, let me enjoy this a little bit, yeah?”

Your moans are getting louder, thighs quacking as he continues to observe your body, learning when to switch gears to best drive you wild.

“Please…” you murmur, grinding into his fingers. “Please.”

Namjoon exhales, a dimpled smile on his face. While his other thumb continues to make figure eights on your clit, he brings two fingers and pops them in his mouth, coating the digits with his saliva before lining them up with your entrance. You’re a whimpering mess when he pushes them inside; the sharp sounds of your wet cunt harmonizing with your moans is a beautiful melody to his ears. Your hand clutches his uninjured leg for balance as you spread your legs wider, giving him more access to your core. Namjoon doesn’t know if he believes in a higher being, but he’s grateful that the accident didn’t render him incapable of using his hands.

“Namjoon, fuck, f-faster.” You utter the last syllable in a lilting voice and he’s quick to follow your demands, his lap and wrists getting coated with your arousal as he thrusts faster, fingers curling and uncurling on your g-spot.

The sheer hospital gown does nothing to hide his erection as he observes your fucked out face, lost in pleasure that he’s providing, causing pride to build in his chest.

“Fuck, Joon, right there! Oh! I’m gonna – ngh – gonna cum,” you keen, muscles tensing and growing tighter around his digits.

He kept his pace; neither too fast nor too slow. He’s moaning with you – his own breathing mirroring yours. With a high pitch whine, you unravel all over his fingers, eyes screwed shut in ecstasy as your whole body shakes, breathing in deeply – waiting for the orgasm to recede. Namjoon leaves your warmth to sit up and embrace you, hands circling around your waist tightly as he kisses your lips, reminding you how beautiful you are in between breaths while choosing to ignore the groaning of his joints as they’re forced to move too quickly. Your hands thread to his hair, tugging at the dark strands and whimpering quietly.

“Joon,” you pant, trying to push him back down. “Lie down. Doctor’s orders.”

Smirking against your lips, he grinds his hips upwards as his hands pin your hips down, letting you feel every drag of his hard cock against your pussy. Namjoon grins devilishly at the way your eyes flutter shut and your mouth hanging open in a silent ‘oh’. “But, baby,” he fake pouts, voice low as he continues to grind. “I love being close to you.”

“F-Fine, fuck, don’t stop – mmh,” you moan, hands clasping his broad shoulders as you work in tandem with his hips.

Namjoon’s cock twitches in anticipation – the itch to bury himself inside you builds with every wanton cry of his name gracing your lips and with every rock of your hips, he’s lost – gritting his teeth to avoid cumming in his boxers. “Shit, I don’t think I can last much longer,” he chuckles, cheeks burning in embarrassment.

Your movements falter, a smirk playing on your lips. “Oh?” you reply simply. "And if I do this?" Your hands snake underneath the hospital gown and rake down his chest, fingers latching on to his nipples while your hips pick up its pace.

He had to screw his eyes shut; his body barely propped up by his exhausted arms, head falling backwards. Namjoon trembles with every drag of your dull fingernails across his chest, grunting desperately as the waves of pleasure shoot down his spine. “Baby, please, don’t tease. I- I can’t –”

Finally, your oscillating hips stop their movements and it’s your turn to watch with glee at the man panting desperately underneath you. Namjoon has barely enough sense left in his brain, half-lidded eyes staring at you as the heart monitor beeps faster in the distance. “Shit, you almost made me cum.”

You grace him with a saccharine smile, saying nothing as you pull his boxers down. The gasp that leaves your mouth puts a tired half-smirk on Namjoon’s face, loving the way your eyes travel from his red tip all the way to the base. Despite the darkness, he catches movement from your throat as you gulp. Gingerly, you lift yourself from the bed to shift your body so the head lines up to your entrance. Your gaze locks to his and without breaking eye contact, you sink lower, mouth hanging open to mirror his.

Namjoon breaks eye contact as he feels your velvet walls around him. He curses loudly when you begin to move, your moans intertwining with his. He knows he’s not going to last – not when your pussy is milking his cock with every thrust. With glazed eyes, he watches you unbutton your blouse and unhook your bra, quickly discarding them with the growing pile next to the bed. You grab his hands and place it over your tits, moaning when he squeezes the tender flesh and rolls the pert nipples with his fingers.

Though his body groans in exhaustion, Namjoon snaps his hips upwards in time with your movements, fucking into you and aiming at the spot that causes your eyes to flutter shut and chanting his name. His hand slips between your thighs as you bounce, tracing circles on your clit to aid your orgasm along.

“Joon,” you whimper into the air, raking your fingernails across his chest gently to leave the barest of red trails on his skin. “I’m gonna fucking cum—”

“Cum for me, let me watch you,” he groans, his hand abandoning your tits to steady your hips while the other continues to swipe alphabets between your thighs.

Namjoon smirks at your attempt to be quiet - at the series of 'oh fuck's from your lips before your walls constrict around him. You manage a strangled cry of his name as the orgasm washes over you, sending you into overdrive; your body shaking and trembling while you latch onto his shoulder for balance. He continues his pace, fucking into you as the coil in his own stomach grow tighter.

"Fuck, fuck, I'm cumming—" he growls, gripping your hips tight as he thrusts one final time, burying his cock deep into your cunt; spurts of his cum spilling inside your walls and mixing with your arousal. You ride him slowly as you both come down from your high before you eventually stop and sit shivering on top of his lap.

Shallow breaths and beeping fills the room while he gazes at you; at the way the moonlight illuminates your features, making you look ethereal and glowing. Namjoon cradles your cheek, pulling you down to plant a slow kiss on your lips, his arm circling your waist as he gently fucks you with his softening dick before it eventually leaves your warmth.

The two of you lay there for another minute with him occasionally kissing the top of your head, listening to the sound of your breathing as it steadies itself.

“Are you okay?” he murmurs, trying to look down on your spent body. The pain is returning, his joints feeling sore after the strenuous activity.

You nod, bringing your beautiful gaze to meet his, a curl of a smile on your features. “I’m sorry if I hurt you,” you whisper, landing a peck on his lips.

“Nonsense. You made me feel so much better.”

You grin at his words, one he returns enthusiastically as he bends lower to claim your lips once more. “Okay,” you giggle, pulling away. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Namjoon protests as your warmth leaves his side, the bed instantly feeling bigger and cold as you gather your clothes strewn on the ground. When you’re semi decent, you grab a rag from the bathroom, the one the other nurses use to help him bathe, and gently, you clean the drying cum off his abdomen. “All better,” you grin, placing the rag in the laundry basket.

You settle back to his side after cleaning yourself off, nuzzling under the covers as you continue to talk about your life. Namjoon’s only half-listening, the irresistible call of sleep coming from every direction. When he succumbs, he feels you plant a kiss on his cheek, whispering ‘good night’.

---

When he dreams that night, it’s about driving. He’s going ten miles over the speed limit in an empty stretch of land; with the windows down and music blaring, his palms tapping rhythmically on the steering wheel. The scenery blurs into tints of blues and greens and Namjoon laughs – finally feeling free as he throws a hand out of the window to feel the cool air. The sound of your giggles from the passenger seat cause him to turn his neck, an adoring smile on his lips as he studies your figure for a fraction before returning his gaze to the road. With cheetahs in your wind-swept hair and eyes wide and bright, you cheer – your own hand sticking out of the window, mirroring his movements.

If there was a breathtaking scenery outside of the moving vehicle in his dream, he wouldn’t be able to recall it in the morning.

And when he blinks awake, sunlight streaming into the hospital room, his joints are heavy and sore.

Because lying down next to him, head perfectly fitted in the crook of his neck, is you.

The most beautiful view.

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