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#skz street racer! au
dadonbabysworld · 2 years
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Spotlight (part 1)
Author's note: I have finally decided that it is a good idea to post this. I have been so inspired to write a streetracer!au. Thank you to @crispy-chan for reading over this and making suggestions. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it.
Synopsis: The reader is a racer, and she is good at it. What happens when she challenges someone other than her normal rival? (Reader's racing name is Sunflower)
Genre: angst? idk honestly lol
Word count: 1,732
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“The feel of the acceleration. It’s the whole reason I kept going knowing it would eventually lead me here.” 
The officer nods, noting your statements down. “You’re an adrenaline junkie,” he acknowledges. You shake your head. 
“Not really. I just… I wanted an escape…” you finally admit with a heavy sigh. Things were going well until now. You swallowed the bitter pill of knowing that it was a single mistake that led you here. One small mishap that could potentially land you in jail…
Your body rattled with the speed of the car, gloved hands gripping the wheel. The juxtaposition of the two materials was something you had already gotten used to over the years. Even if the vehicle was primarily for racing, it still had some customization. Your seat covers were orange and black, a vanilla diffuser sat in the back cup holder, the front being a bottle of water, and some led strips were taped on the inside. It looked regular during the day — cars with personality usually don’t get flagged as race cars. 
Your foot was all the way down on the pedal, chasing the end of your thoughts. The highway was clear, but your mind was full. Far too many people saw you and thought you were weak, fragile, soft. 
Yet that couldn’t be further from the truth; you were powerful, strong, independent and a force to be wrecked with. Anyone who saw you race knew that. 
Eyes on the road you took so often it was child’s play to zone out and still know the way to go. You checked the time; it was 4:37 am. Music came back to the forefront of your mind when you looked at your opponent. You let the window down and pulled your sunglasses up as you sped past.
 “Catch me if you can!” you grinned cheekily, shooting him a wink. He looked furious knowing he couldn’t. He would never catch up with you. You let all the windows down as you drove off, smiling.
Even at night, you put your sunglasses back on. They were your key accessory. Even if you forgot your gloves, you’d never forget your sunglasses. Most people didn't deserve to look into your eyes. It was a right to earn, and your opponent was the only one who had the pleasure of gazing into your orbs often. He was the start of your obsession.
As your vehicle's acceleration slowed, you passed the finish line with him on your bumper. You parked smoothly in the garage. Screams and congratulations greeted you as you let your windows up. You cut your car off and got out. 
“Congratulations, Sunflower”, you heard from behind you. You turned around and nodded. “Thank you, but shouldn’t you be consoling your boy?” you queried with a smirk. Chan hummed a tune of acknowledgment “That’s true, but he’ll be fine. I don’t think he minds me just thanking you.” 
You smiled. So, he wasn’t a sore loser. Good to know. You grabbed your prize money from a woman who congratulated you, easily slipping past the hordes of people in the garage.
As his eyes searched for yours under your glass, you smiled. Chan was handsome and he knew that. You had a small soft spot for him, but no one compared to your opponent. He was gorgeous and, just like Chan, he was painfully aware of it. Chan waved while walking away, heading back to his friends which now included your opponent.
As if on schedule, he approached. “Sunflower!” You lifted your sunglasses. “Know”, you answered, small smirk playing on your lips. He looked just as furious as before when you passed him on the track. 
“What the hell was that?!” 
 “Whatever do you mean?” Usually, the sight of his rage was somewhat attractive to you — you liked seeing him so worked up. But this… it was a bit much, even for you.
You smirked. You had just upgraded your car. Well, not alone, but he’ll get the point.
“Your car was not as fast last time we raced.”
“Neither was yours, but I guess we both have surprises.”
His lips formed a lopsided smirk as he ran a hand through his messy hair. “A worthy one…” 
You raised an eyebrow. “Hm?” 
“A worthy opponent you are.” 
He walked away after that statement, leaving you to think about his words. What was he trying to say? Did he think everyone else wasn't?
You got in your car to prepare to leave. Letting your sunglasses fall back down, you put on your seatbelt. You prepared for the radio to be as loud as it was when you turned the car off by covering your ears. With one hand, you started the car then immediately turned it down.
As you were about to put it in drive, Chan pulled up next to you, a playful smirk gracing his lips. 
“Leaving before my race, Sunflower? I'm a bit disappointed.” 
You laughed. “Do you want me to stay?” 
“I wanted to race, maybe? Would it be too much to ask for?”
To say you were shocked would be an understatement. None of Lee Know’s friends ever asked to race. Never. Hmm… maybe he wanted to see if Chan could get the best of you. 
“Sure! Let's go then. We can take the west route. Lee Know and I already did the North one.” 
You didn't know who decided the routes, but they were probably the same ones that started years ago. You backed up to make space for Chan to turn. As he moved, you followed slowly. 
You noted that Chan had someone in the passenger seat. A bold move. Weight meant he was losing speed. You never saw Chan race before, so he might surprise you. Out of all the friends Lee Know had, you'd only seen the Puppy and Hanji race. You chuckled at the thought. His' nickname was quite fitting—he was the youngest one, a beginner by your standards, but he was someone to watch out for. Just like a puppy, you never knew when he might finally bite... 
Glancing out the window, your eyes scanned over Chan's dark blue McLaren... Did his parents buy it for him, or did he work for it? Did he refurbish it? It was clean and the interior was filled with intricate little details that hinted at him having a hand at redoing it to fit his own style. According to some people, Chan worked on cars, yet he didn’t seem like the type. He was a pretty boy, by all means, but you had already learned the hard way that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover. 
People thought you were just a simple nursing student. In the daytime that was true, you worked your ass off to study nursing in med-school. You wondered what would become of you when you’d be working nights at a hospital. Right now, all the problems and anxiety from medical school weren't important. The only thing that mattered was the race.
Chan took you out of a trance when his engine roared. Maybe it was a flex or just a way to pick up women. Multiple women cheered at the noise. It helped you focus, nonetheless. The doors opened so you could leave. As the countdown started, you tightened the straps of your seatbelt. You put the race car seatbelt that clicked in the middle in your seat like a harness. You read somewhere that it was safer for women in those.
Your Ferrari was jet black with slightly tinted windows. The exterior was basic —you had a license plate cover installed for when racing. The last thing you wanted was to get caught. The normal life you lived would be gone, and your grandmother would be alone. In jail, you couldn’t do anything for her. 
You floored it as soon as the countdown got to one, but Chan was close. He never looked so calm; he was in his natural habitat. His passenger had their hand out the window. Seemingly happy and enjoying the ride, would you ever get the chance to have a passenger? 
Your Ferrari was a blur to anyone not going at yours and Chan's speed. 
The closer to 180 mph you got; the more adrenaline rushed through your body. You turned the radio back up. It was amazing how you could listen to the same songs, but the song felt so different at nearly 200 mph. Every song was a hype one. Music was everything to you. The ultimate escape. 
Chan had passed you at the halfway mark. He must've been pushing 200 mph if he was passing you. It was a smooth transition to the lane you were in. It was admirable how seriously Chan was taking this. At first you honestly weren’t, you sat up some maneuvering out of the lane Chan got in.
You felt like a dude playing 2k when they started losing and they sat up. You couldn’t lose to Chan; your opponent was Lee Know and it would stay that way. You wouldn't allow Chan the right to brag to Lee Know about how he beat you. 
You had no beef or history with Chan, and you didn’t want to start any. He was always respectful and friendly. However, you couldn’t let him get one up on you if he did win. You’d have to race him again. You couldn’t leave one stone unturned. 
You rode on his side for the next five minutes. You caught the lead when it came time to get off the expressway. He couldn’t overtake you until you got at least half a mile ahead.
“Should’ve got over first!”, you yelled out the window. He looked focused. Not as easily phased as Lee know. Nice to know. 
It would be a picture-perfect win. You’d left Chan in the dust for a while. Until you looked to your right to see Chan coming close. With the finish line in your sights, you both wanted to win badly. 
Your grip on the wheel was hurting your hands. You were going to have marks on your hands from the sewing in your wheel cover. You were stressed to the max. You had to win. Had to. You hyper focused on the road, blocking out the radio focusing on the winning shot. 
BANG! 
And the winner is…
Taglist (please comment to join): @kflixnet @l-luvr @lino-jagiyaa 🐶 @moonmukamiamajiki
If you like this post, consider reading my other works listed here. I, also, accept requests here. Thank you!
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mlink64 · 1 year
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Y'all, I need help helpppppp. One of my absolute favorite stories on Wattpad has disappeared and I'm genuinely heartbroken as a result 😭 it is/was called "Their Darling" and it's an Enhypen reverse harem/poly fic. Street racer au. With appearances by Skz, Cravity, Itzy, and txt.
It's such an amazing story and is probably in my top 3 fics of all time.
If anyone knows anything about it you would literally be my hero 😭❤
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starlost-mochi-x · 27 days
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the fast lane : masterlist
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Pairing: bangchan x reader x felix
Summary: Welcome to the world of underground street racing. Chan is known for his flashy cars and confident attitude. You're new to the racing scene, eager but inexperienced. Felix is known for his sneaky tactics and charming demeanour. What happens when all three of your worlds collide?
Warnings: illegal street racing, skz racer!au, chan and felix (yep that's a warning), more warnings will be added as the series progresses !
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part one : the bet
part two : the lollipop
part three : porcelain and gold
part four : unexpected contact
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luumiinaa · 4 months
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General Tags
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⌞GENRES⌝ NAVIGATION ⌞RECS 1⌝ &TEAM ATZ BND BTS ENHA MISC ⌞RECS 2⌝ NCT RZE SVT SKZ TBZ TXT ZB1
.   ✦   ˚    . 🐈 *    .   ˚   .  *   .   ˚ ✦  .
BY WORD-TYPE ⌞DRABBLE⌝ less than 1k ⌞SHORT⌝ 1k to 10k oneshot ⌞LONG⌝ 11k to 20k oneshot ⌞STORY⌝ 21k+ oneshot ⌞SMAU⌝ social media series ⋆ text blurbs ⌞SERIES⌝ long series ⋆ mini series ⋆ spinoffs ⌞MISCELLANEOUS⌝ headcanons ⋆ mtl
˚  ⋆ . ✦ ˚  📖 ˚   * . . .   *
BY SUBGENRE ⌞☾.ᐟ MOON⌝ lumi’s favourite ⌞☆.ᐟ MERCURY⌝ sfw ⋆ all about that fluff ⌞★.ᐟ MARS⌝ sfw ⋆ suggestively everything ⌞✧.ᐟ JUPITER⌝ nsfw ⋆ pwp ⌞✦.ᐟ VENUS⌝ nsfw ⋆ little to no plot, just 𝐹𝐼𝐿𝒯𝐻
˚    ✦   .   .    ˚  . 🍳⋆ .    ˚   * . ✦
BY GENRE ⌞GENERAL⌝ fluff ⋆ angst ⋆ hurt/comfort ⋆ crack ⋆ slice of life ⋆ slow burn ⋆ dark fic
⌞LOVERS⌝ friends ⋆ strangers ⋆ frenemies ⋆ enemies ⋆ coworkers ⋆ ex lovers ⋆ secret lovers ⋆ friends to more ⋆ established relationship
⌞TROPES⌝ childhood friends ⋆ best friends ⋆ neighbours ⋆ brother’s best friend ⋆ best friends brother ⋆ roommates ⋆ fake dating
⌞SCENARIOS⌝ workplace romance ⋆ arranged marriage ⋆ love triangle ⋆ unrequited love ⋆ mutual pining ⋆ no strings attached ⋆ family dynamics
⌞THEME⌝ mob ⋆ historical ⋆ royalty ⋆ knightcore ⋆ gamer ⋆ sports ⋆ street racers ⋆ cyberpunk ⋆ dystopian ⋆ apocalypse ⋆ summertime vibes
⌞ACADEMIA⌝ highschool ⋆ college ⋆ hogwarts
⌞AUs⌝ spiderverse ⋆ avatar the last airbender ⋆ pokémon ⋆ genshin impact ⋆ star wars
⌞MAGICAL REALISM⌝ superpowers ⋆ soulmates ⋆ reincarnation ⋆ hanahaki ⋆ demigods
⌞SUPERNATURAL⌝ paranormal ⋆ witches and wizards ⋆ urban creatures ⋆ dragons ⋆ aquatic lore ⋆ faeries ⋆ vampires ⋆ omegaverse ⋆ hybrid
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strawberry-butter · 2 years
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i know stayblr writers have collectively agreed that yeji and hyunjin are siblings, but may i suggest doting older brother minho and his sweet but savage younger sister chaeryeong
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kabira · 4 years
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backseat driving.
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pairing — street racer!hyunjin x female reader ft. jeongin and a dash of minho & lix
word count — 10k
genres — racer au, flangst (fluff & angst), slight mature content
warnings — profanity, suggestive themes, substance abuse (alcohol), make-outage
summary — When your excitable friend introduces you to a street racer to help you get your driver’s license, you have your doubts. But Hwang Hyunjin is nothing close to dangerous. Oh, no. He insists on teaching you how to drive in a mom van.
go to main masterlist
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“Do you see a red car?” Jeongin’s voice speaks through the phone.
You squint against the bright sunlight washing the majority of the parking area, scanning the multitude of cars for anything that could match the boy’s vague description. There’s a red car at the end of the driveway, one next to a soccer mom van, and a third between two white Volvos. Well, that’s mildly interesting. Two Volvos, and both white. “I see three of them, so you’re going to have to be a bit more specific.”
“Don’t be dramatic,” he says, and you can practically see him roll his eyes.
“You’re telling me not to be dramatic?” you scoff. “After guiding me to a random location in a shady place just to meet my new instructor?”
Only Jeongin. A single distracted conversation about your upcoming driving test had been enough to get the boy on his toes, elated about his plans to help you with the test rather than the test itself. Seeing as Jeongin himself didn’t know the first thing about driving, he had taken it upon himself to talk to his alleged ‘big-shot driver friend’ to teach you the ins and outs of the craft instead.
Needless to say, your hopes aren’t high.
“Well, not instructor, specifically,” Jeongin amends. “Think of him as a helper. Or a guide. Like a Dumbledore.”
“A Dumbledore parallel isn’t the best to work with while talking about cars.”
“Spare me the lecture,” Jeongin says with a huff. “I’m helping you big time by convincing this guy to help you pass your driving evaluation or whatever it’s called. Actually, I’m not sure you’re worth his time.”
“Gee, thanks for the pep talk,” you mutter. “Any more details on the car or am I just gonna have to knock on the windows of all three?”
“Shush, child,” he says, and you hear the sound of a tap being turned on in the background. He’s probably snuck into the boys’ washroom to call you. “It’s a sleek car, kind of looks like a racecar—mainly because it is, but that’s not the point. Has a chrome layer—you can tell by the gleam—and gray stripes.”
“Got it.” You spot the vehicle at the other end. It’s the one next to the soccer mom van, covered in a blissful patch of shade that must provide a great deal of respite from the heat. Your shoulder flexes uncomfortably at the thought, the patch of sweat right between your shoulder blades beginning to itch. “Are you sure I should go meet him alone, though? He’s not a pimp or something? Or rude?” You shudder. “God, I hope he isn’t some dickwad.”
“You’d rather he be a pimp than a dickwad?” Jeongin questions, continuing on your trail of conversation, then his tone changes to a reassuring one. “He won’t bite, don’t worry. He’s cool. We’ve been bros for years, and he owes me.”
“That’s what you said about that guy at that café, and I embarrassed myself asking for free samples,” you bite back, narrowing your eyes despite knowing he can’t see you. In spite of your distrust in your friend, you start walking towards the red car. “So you understand why I can’t take your word for it.”
“Trust me on this one. He showed up, too, so you know he can be trusted,” Jeongin says, and you roll your eyes. “Put me on speaker, so if he says anything weird, we can both embarrass ourselves together.”
“Reassuring,” you mutter, but do as he says as you reach the car. For a moment, your attention is completely arrested by the sight of the car, which gleams dark red and steel gray despite the shade, its streamlined body the equivalent of a beautiful swimwear model. You stare, mouth hanging open, mentally drooling over the sight until Jeongin’s pestering voice brings you back down to earth.
“You still there?” he asks. “I have to get back to class soon, the prof’s gonna get suspicious if I don’t show up in a few minutes.”
“…yeah, give me a moment,” you say, circling to the side of the car. There are no shades up, and the glass is not tinted, giving you a clear view of the person in the driver’s seat, who appears to be— “Is he sleeping?”
“What?” Jeongin says, sounding confused.
You hunker down to the level of the window, taking a good look inside and hoping there’s no one around to mistake you for a car thief. God, the whole situation is so awkward that you’re kind of proud of yourself for going through with it. The person in the driver’s seat reclines in the seat, a baseball cap covering most of his face. Only his mouth and lower jaw are visible underneath, plump, pillowy pink lips that hang slightly parted, signs that their bearer is deep in slumber. “Yup, he’s definitely asleep.”
“Wake him up, then,” Jeongin says promptly. “He promised me he’d be there.”
You hesitate. There’s something almost disappointing about the prospect of waking up a peaceful sleeper, especially when their wakefulness could mean a less awkward ordeal for you to go through. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Jeongin says firmly. “Knock on the window.”
You’re doubtful, but compliant. Leaning down next to the window, you rap against the window sharply, taking care not to hit it too forcefully in case you damage something. “Hey, dude,” you say quietly, cheeks ablaze from the absurdity of the situation, “wake up.”
The reaction is immediate. The boy in the seat pulls the cap off promptly, and looks sideways at you. You freeze at sight of his face, hand still half in the air, as the window rolls down slowly.
“Yes?” he says. Okay, so not asleep, then.
But you’re too startled to formulate an answer. The boy in front of you is beautiful, unbelievably so, with full, kissable lips and almond eyes fringed with dark lashes. He looks at you through those lashes now, a strong eyebrow cocked as he gives you a once-over and waits for you to come back to earth.
“I—uh, actually,” you stammer, but thankfully, Jeongin saves the day.
“Hyunjin, my man!” the boy yells through the speaker, and you flinch at the sudden sound. “This is the one I was telling you about, the really bad driver? Yeah, so—”
Your eyes narrow, and you jerk the phone away. Hyunjin, as you now know him, waves a hand towards you dismissively and pushes open the door. You take a step back, still holding up the phone, as Jeongin yammers away to two people who are clearly not listening.
The boy straightens to his full height, which almost double that of the car. A loose shirt covers his torso, the hem hanging half untucked over a pair of old jeans. Despite the heat, there’s a red letterman jacket slung over the back of his seat, aggressively eye-catching like its owner.
Hyunjin’s piercing gaze slides over you in a single glance as you stand there, unable to move, as if frozen in place by the look. His hair is a little too long, long enough to brush his nape or be tied back. A strand of dark hair escapes from behind his ear as he bends to close the door of the car, in stark contrast with the honey-glaze tan of his skin, which seems to gleam with sweat at the crest of his cheek. Jeongin’s voice fades to white noise in the background, and you feel like you’ve gotten a serious case of tunnel vision.
“What?”
You blink, taking a step back in surprise. Hyunjin has his arms crossed—a movement that makes him look equally intimidating and attractive, though you’re not inclined to get closer to him in any way. His dark eyebrows are pushed together in a slightly annoyed frown, and you suddenly get the feeling you’re not making a great first impression.
“Uh—”
“You should be proud the city’s best racer is going to help you pass your measly driver’s test,” Jeongin’s superior tone sounds from the phone, cutting you off. Hyunjin’s eyes flick to the device, and the frown relaxes, though the look of disapproval remains. “Don’t annoy him too much.”
“I’m not the best, and I’m barely a racer,” Hyunjin retorts, though there is no asperity in his tone. In fact, the tiniest of smiles rests on his lips as he walks past you and out of the little space between the SUV and the racecar. His gait is almost a strut, contained and efficient, almost feline. “And I’m sure your friend won’t annoy me.” His narrowed eyes land on you. “Or will you?”
“N-no, I—” You clench your jaw, hating how you sound. There’s something off about the boy—despite his perpetually annoyed attitude, there’s nothing in his tone that speaks of arrogance. He seems nice, even, just…tired? You can’t tell what it is, but it stops you from making a biting remark on his behalf.
On the other hand, you’re not imagining the best outcome of this thing. Everything you know about street racers comes from the Fast and Furious franchise, and the general idea is that they’re an edgy, temperamental, and often dangerous group. An illegal racer, teaching you how to get a license. Go figure.
“You’re just too blind to see your own genius behind the wheel,” Jeongin says, and you hear a worshipping edge to his tone. “A—crap. I gotta dip. There’s someone in the washroom.”
“Bye,” you say, amused, and the call ends. The atmosphere falls silent, and your skin itches at the sudden quiet when you realize it’s just you and Hyunjin now. Well, technically, it had been the two of you before, too, but somehow Jeongin’s voice had made things easier.
You slowly turn to the boy, who’s still looking at you, and feel heat crawl up your neck. “So…you’re going to teach me how to drive?”
“Just the basics,” he says. “You don’t know how to drive?”
“I do, I just—” You chew on your bottom lip. “Tend to mess up. Evaluators seem to hate me; Jeongin must have told you.”
“Well, maybe they have a good reason to hate you,” he says, but not unkindly. “When’s your test?”
“Three weeks.”
“That’s a long time,” he says, already moving away. “Look, I’m only doing this as a favor. I have nothing against you, really, but you know how Jeongin tends to get too excited about things and…” He shrugs, and you nod understandingly, ignoring the reflexive pinch of hurt at his words. You literally just met him. “Yeah.”
“You’re a racer, huh?” you ask, shifting the topic to something you can actually talk about. Maybe I should walk away now, you think a little nervously. But that’s another difficult situation, and you’re not sure how to start.
It makes you think about car crashes and police chases and other illegal things. Drugs, maybe? Another look at Hyunjin tells you he’s not a druggie, at least, but you never know. Maybe he’s part of some gang? The thought makes you freeze up.
“Street.” He glances at the Ford, which seems too expensive to be a street racing car, but then you don’t know the first thing about it. Hyunjin raises a hand in the air, and it takes you a moment to realize that he’s holding a set of keys. “Shall we?”
You’re about to answer when he begins moving towards the SUV instead. He turns before disappearing inside it, giving you a look. “You…” you start, narrowing your eyes. “…are going to teach me how to drive in a mom van? No offence, but…it’s a mom van.”
“They’re almost impossible to parallel park, have shitty mileage, and can’t do curves to save a life,” he says, as if it’s supposed to make your doubts disappear. “Need more reasons?”
“Isn’t that a little…” You squint, trying to think of a word. “Counter-productive?”
Hyunjin raises an eyebrow at you before unlocking the door and swinging in. After a brief moment of hesitation, you follow him inside, finding him already positioned behind the wheel with his seat belt strapped on. “They teach you patience,” he says, giving you a flat smile. “That’s the most important thing to have if you want to pass your driver’s test.”
For a long moment, you stare at each other. His gaze is defiant, and you’re not sure how to match it. You suppose you should be thankful that you’re not going to end up in a ditch at the end of this thing, but at the same time, this is on the opposite end of the spectrum, which is equally disappointing. You don’t know what you were expecting, but it definitely hadn’t been this. Dangerous street racer, maybe. Makeshift dad? Not so much.
With a defeated sigh, you plop down on the seat beside him. “Seatbelt,” he says monotonously, and you already feeling a dark cloud looming in the horizon of your future.
This is gonna be a long three weeks.
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“Before you start, adjust your mirrors, seat position, and seatbelt,” Hyunjin says, like he does at the start of every single ‘driving lesson’ the two of you have had together, making you roll your eyes furtively when you think he can’t see. “I saw that.”
“You don’t have to say all of that anymore, it’s been almost a week,” you quip peevishly, feeling more than just a little annoyed by his constant repetition and slow, deliberate instructions, as if he’s teaching a toddler instead of a functioning adult. “I remember, Hyunjin. I may be bad, but I’m not that bad.”
“Just making sure you don’t forget,” he says with a twitch of his eyebrow, and sits back in the shotgun seat. Today’s a special day because he’s finally let you drive instead of making you sit back and observe like the other days. He’s definitely not reckless or rash, like you’d first pegged him to be, or even close to the racer type. No, he’s overly meticulous and careful and tells you how to do everything like you’ve never even seen a car before.
However, you never manage to say anything to him. You tell yourself that it’s just because he’s so nice, agreeing to help you out without even having an inkling of your personality previously, but it’s not just that. Deep inside, you know it.
Hyunjin crosses his arms over his chest, giving you a pointed look after observing you dawdle in the driveway for more than thirty seconds. It draws your already flighty attention to his toned arms, which are bare today. In particular, the red cloth tied around him bicep like a circlet. “What’s that?” you ask, unable to help your curiosity.
He blinks, uncomprehending for a few seconds before his gaze follows your line of sight to his arm. “Ah,” he mutters, the piercing gaze falling away from your face to focus on his arm. “Nothing,” he says, adjusting his sleeve rather uselessly. “Cloth.”
“I can see that,” you say dryly. “Is it some kind of racer thing?”
You’re aware that you sound ignorant (which, in your defense, you are), but he’s kind enough not to point it out. “Kind of,” he says with a half-hearted shrug, clearly struggling to pull your attention away from it. “Look, it’s not important. And the less you know about this thing, the better. Just—drive.”
You drop it, feeling like you might be invading his privacy. The curiosity remains, though, buried under the layers of conflicting opinions you have about the boy. It’s a repeating pattern now—you bring up something related to racing, he clams up, you feel bad, conversation over. It’s gotten better over the course of a few days; a slow transition from awkward small talk to casual banter, even you making him smile at points. Somehow it doesn’t stop you from thinking up new queries that never fail to elicit a slight sigh from the boy’s ruby lips.
That’s one detail you never miss, owing to the involvement of his lips. They’re very nice lips.
You place one hand on the wheel, making a show of checking the rearview and sideview mirrors. Hyunjin clears his throat, and you look at him wearily. “What now?”
“Both your hands on the wheel,” he says pedantically.
You groan, but oblige. “I don’t see the point of this,” you grumble. “It’s manual transmission, I have to have one hand free.”
“It’s just for the first few seconds,” he says in what’s supposed to be a reassuring tone. “Passing the test is more about making a good impression on your evaluator than actually driving efficiently. Put your hands on the wheel, then take one off a second later. It’s the thought that matters.”
“You seem to know a lot about this,” you mutter. He’s been especially straitlaced about the whole driving teacher thing. If you’re being honest, you hadn’t expected him to take it so seriously.
“I make it a point so I don’t lose my license for racing illegally,” Hyunjin says flatly. “You learn to do that.”
You bite your lip, feeling the beginning prickles of the same burning curiosity again, like the lining of your chest is waking up. “So…you guys get caught by the police often?”
He raises an incredulous eyebrow at you. “If I had been, you think I’d have my license now?”
“Do you?” you challenge.
He holds your gaze for an unblinking moment before dropping it, a small smile curving his mouth that he tries to hide by turning his face away from yours. “I do,” he says. “I almost got cornered once, but it’s become easier over the years. It’s not worth the adrenaline rush.”
“Isn’t that how you racers roll?” you ask, an amused quirk to your lips. “Ride or die or whatever? Rush over everything else?”
He scrunches up his nose, which makes him look surprisingly adorable. “Not really,” he says. “It’s not as cool as people make it out to be—you can die at any moment, and the money isn’t even that good.”
At that, a small frown appears on your brow. “I thought you made a lot,” you say slowly. “I mean, seeing as you have a GT and all.”
“Most you can make in a night is ten, twenty grand,” he says with a shrug, “and almost all of it goes back into your car. It took me a while to get the GT souped up, and I still have to make upgrades all the time. Some of the community is nice, but it’s really not as amazing as it sounds.”
There’s a hint of darkness to his tone, and you have to admit you feel a little disappointed. The child in you had been kind of awed by the prospect of being taught to drive by a racer, being taught the tips and tricks of the trade, but Hyunjin doesn’t seem very enthusiastic about his own job.
“That’s depressing to hear,” you say with forced lightness, tapping your fingers against the gearhead.
“Oh, it’s not all bad,” he says, and you cock your head. “It’s great for petrol-heads—the things you get to see, and the stolen minutes of adrenaline, feeling on top of the world when you race.” He looks almost fond as he speaks, and you’re unable to help the tiny smile that graces your face at his intent expression. “There are very few substitutes to that.”
“Has Jeongin ever been?” you ask hesitantly. “I was just wondering how you knew him.”
“He doesn’t race or anything, if that’s what you’re asking,” he says, and you shake your head no. “He’s been a couple of times, but only to the bar.”
“Think I could visit sometime?” you venture, and he cracks a smile.
“Nice try,” he says playfully, narrowing his eyes. “Now, show me your amazing backing-up skills.”
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“Can I talk while driving? Or is that a big no-no, too?”
Hyunjin’s eyes lift heavenward at your sardonic tone, engineered to bite. “Just don’t do that with your evaluator. It’s all about—”
“Impressions, yeah,” you cut in, taking a turn. Hyunjin had been right, it’s crazy difficult to take curves in an SUV, even if you’ve only had a few days of practice. “It just sounds like you’re biased.”
He doesn’t answer that, and you glance over inquisitively. His forehead is pressed against the glass, eyes half-mast and glassy, and he doesn’t seem to be paying as much attention as usual. He’s been like this all day, drained of energy and apparently his will to put up with the ordeal. Every other day, he’s like a hawk, watching you and waiting for a slip-up.
You purse your lips, looking back out of the windshield. The neighborhood is one you know, and the streets are less busy than usual despite it being a Monday. Maybe he was at a party at the weekend? Or some racer orgy? You shudder at your own thoughts, mentally tossing them out of the window.
“Hey,” you start gently and hesitantly, breaking the silence. “You good?”
Hyunjin glances at the side of your face, looking surprised. “Yeah,” he replies, but his voice catches in the middle. He clears his throat. “Yeah.”
You give him an unconvinced look. “Are you sure? You look like you could do with some sleep.”
“I’m not the one driving,” he mumbles dismissively.
“You’re always backseat driving.”
“It’s technically my job here,” he says in a superior tone, making your lips curl. You switch lanes, and he makes an irritated sound at the back of his throat. “Check the mirrors and look over your shoulder before you do that.”
“Yes, sir,” you say dryly. “I’m not letting this go, though. Are you sure you’re okay? Like—I’m not trying to be nosy or anything, just making sure you’re not going to faint on me.”
“I’m not going to faint,” he snorts, but blinks forcefully after like he’s trying to keep his eyes open. “I just had a late turn-in, that’s all.”
You raise an eyebrow, taking in his wrinkled t-shirt and the strong smell of coffee that seems to have invaded every corner of the minivan. “…did you sleep in the car?”
“What?” He scoffs nervously. “No.”
Silence.
“Maybe,” he admits.
You sigh. “No wonder your neck was creaking like old mattress springs,” you mutter. You hear a soft sound that sounds distinctly like a hungry stomach—and you know you’re full. “Oh, come on,” you sigh, and park the car outside a service alley.
Hyunjin looks at you with rounded eyes as you undo the seatbelt and unlock the door before stepping out of the car. “Where are you going?”
“I’ll be right back,” you say, and leave. Hyunjin watches you as you leave, brow furrowed quizzically, looking more alert than he’s been all afternoon.
It takes approximately fifteen minutes for you to get takeout from a cheap, non-brand but trustworthy café by the corner and back to the van, where a very hungry Hyunjin awaits your return impatiently. His eyes widen fractionally when they land on the food packets in your hands as you lean in through the window. A pink tongue pokes out from between his lips—unconsciously from the looks of it—and you swear you hear his stomach grumble again. “What’s that?”
“What does it look like?” you fire back, climbing into the back. “It’s takeaway—totally hygienic, don’t worry. Now, come on.”
Hyunjin looks at you reluctantly for a few seconds before obliging and climbing into the empty spot beside you. His eyes linger on your hands as you hand him the napkins and sandwiches, the smell wafting from the food enough to make your own mouth water.
The two of you eat in silence, you industriously ignoring (or pretending to ignore) Hyunjin’s gaze on the side of your face as you eat. It makes eating much harder, like there’s a live thing in your stomach that’s fluttering around and preventing the rest of your food from going in.
He must have been hungrier than you had originally assumed, because it takes him a grand total of five minutes to inhale three sandwiches. A heavy, awkward silence drapes over you like a blanket as you finish the remains of yours, and he sits quietly, a conflicting look on his face.
“Thanks,” he says quietly a few moments after you’re finished, and you smile a close-lipped smile.
“You’re welcome,” you reply warmly, and something flickers behind his eyes. “Now for the payment,” you add nonchalantly, and a smile breaks out on his face. “Why did you sleep in the car?” His lips flatten, and you suppress a sigh. “You don’t have to answer. I know I’m just your—student, or whatever, it’s fine.”
It takes a moment for him to reply. “I got locked out of my apartment last night,” he says finally. You cock an eyebrow. “It’s a shared apartment, and the other guy—well, he kind of…locked me out.”
“He can do that?” You frown.
“He’s not supposed to, but it’s technically his place,” he answers. “And he didn’t do it on purpose. He just has a problem, and forgot all about me after a little fiasco at this bar.” His tongue pokes out from between his lips to swipe over them, and you can’t help but follow the movement with your eyes. “Forget about it. It’s not a big deal.”
“I hope not.” You lean back against the seat, drawing a pattern in the leather of the seat. This time, the silence is more comfortable, despite Hyunjin’s brooding look.
It’s only been a couple of weeks since you met him, but you were a step away from inviting him to stay over at yours in case he needs a place to stay in next time. The change is sudden, and you don’t know anything about him apart from his racing gig and his problematic roommate, but you can’t help but trust him. Or want to. There’s something about his eyes, the warmth in them that he tries to hide in hidden glances and forced scoffs. He’s a closed book, but still feels so vulnerable, like a flower about to open.
“I was thinking,” Hyunjin starts, breaking you out of your reverie, “we should call it a day. I could get some sleep before the races tonight.” He swipes his tongue over his lips, measuring the next sentence before speaking “There’s a big event there this weekend,” he says, “and everyone I know is going to be there.” The next words are hesitant and slow. “Do you—want to come?”
You stare at him for a long, incredulous moment before his words sink in. You’re supposed to take your driver’s test next week, so the session before the supposed big event would be your last with him. Hope blooms in a dark corner of your mind. “To meet your racing buddies?” you ask, almost failing at trying to rein in your excitement. “Sure.”
The corner of his lips twitches at the false nonchalance in your tone, but he nods. “I’ll see you there, then,” he says, an unrepressed smile on his face.
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The bar, interestingly named The Dragon’s Tail, is built in what seems to be an old warehouse, with a high ceiling and useless catwalks running around the interior. You’ve been to your fair share of bars, but something about this one is different. It’s wilder, with neon signs and the strong smell of alcohol and something grassy in the mix, sweaty bodies and gleaming, bared necks every way you look. It’s enough to make you uncomfortable, despite the good hands you’ve been left in by Hyunjin.
Felix Lee is a friendly guy, much nicer than you’d expected Hyunjin’s racer buddies to turn out to be. His dyed lavender hair shines under the lights, reflecting their purple and neon green, much like the clear drink in his hand. Fortunately for you, he keeps you company during Hyunjin’s absence—who’s apparently in the middle of a race, and doesn’t want you to be out there—and sticks by your side despite having many opportunities to ditch you. He walks around the bar with you, pointing out the good, the bad and the uglies of the racing scene, and laughs at all the right cues.
You’ve only just begun to feel at home in the place when a sandy-haired boy shows up at the counter, looking ruffled. His eyes land on Felix, face relaxing immediately when he spots the boy and saunters up to him. “Lix,” he says, catching your new kind-of friend’s attention by clamping a hand over his shoulder. “You’re needed out back.”
“What?” Felix frowns a little, before turning to you with a close-lipped smile. “This is Minho, by the way,” he mutters by way of introduction. You smile at the new arrival and introduce yourself, slightly discomfited by Minho’s piercing gaze. “What happened?”
“It’s Han again,” Minho says. Felix’s eyes widen comically, but Minho looks calm, maybe calmer than he should be, judging by the other’s worried expression. “In the outdoor showers. It’s bad.”
“Oh, god,” Felix mutters. His hands clench and unclench on the counter as he glances at you worriedly, getting to his feet. “I have to go,” he says to you, sounding apologetic. “It’s only going to be a few minutes, but do you think you’ll be okay?”
“Yeah, sure. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.” You wave away his concern, despite your qualms about being left alone with a stranger. Whatever this Han needs Felix for, it sounds serious. You don’t want him to prioritize you over a potential emergency, and besides, you can handle yourself, no matter what Hyunjin thinks.
“Minho can stay with you,” he continues in a slightly jittery fashion. The other boy doesn’t even look up at his name. “And Hyunjin should be back soon, too, so you won’t be alone for long. Just don’t go anywhere, I don’t want to piss him off.”
“Go,” you say playfully, giving him a slight push. Felix smiles at you, looking relived but nervous, and takes off, disappearing into the crowd.
You and Minho sit in silence for a few moments as he orders a drink from the bar, kicking his booted feet up to rest on the rung of the stool. The quiet would be weird, but the loud, thumping music and general sounds of the youth fill in the silence, which you’re grateful for despite the oncoming headache you feel forming between your eyes. Your eyes flit to your phone screen every few seconds, secretly checking the time so you don’t make your new companion feel too awkward.
“You’re with Hyunjin?” Minho asks at length after downing his drink, and you glance at him, nodding after getting over the surprise. He nods slowly, pushing away his now-empty glass and giving you a slight smile which looks almost wolfish. “So, new.”
“I’m not here to race,” you say, though you’re not sure why. “Just…visiting, I guess.”
It sounds dumb, and you know it, but Minho doesn’t acknowledge it. “It’s not good manners to leave your date out in a place like this,” he says, cocking an eyebrow.
You stare at him, uncomprehending at first. “Oh,” you say, pausing. “Oh, no, we’re not—I’m not dating him,” you say with a forced, nervous laugh, hoping you don’t sound as awkward as you feel. “We’re just…we have a mutual friend.”
You realize that sounds worse, and groan internally, screwing up your face and turning away from the boy with an embarrassed smile. Minho doesn’t seem to mind, though. He tucks his chin into his palm and elbow against the counter, strands of bleached hair falling into his eyes, looking catlike with his gaze as it fixes onto you. “Allow me to buy you a drink, then,” he says with a slow smile.
“Ah, no, it’s fine,” you say, chuckling nervously. He doesn’t seem bothered by the refusal, and instead leans forward—not too much, but close enough that you can smell the smoke on him.
“You don’t have to be so worried,” he says. It’s then you notice his eyes are ringed by kohl, which was what had made them so striking before. “I know we all seem like criminals to you, but this is a safe space. Just because we race doesn’t mean we do other assorted crimes to go with it, babe.”
His tone is teasing, but it makes your face heat up. “That’s not what I meant,” you say helplessly.
“Have a drink, then!” Minho says, waving over the bartender. “You can stop whenever you want to.” He winks. “On me.”
He’s openly flirtatious, and though the attention would have made you feel flattered any other day, you don’t feel too into it. On one hand, he’s attractive, and you’re bored and alone, and on the other…well. You’re not sure what lies on the other side.
“Okay,” you say, and one corner of his lips lifts into a victorious smirk. Minho turns to order, and you find yourself studying his profile, not sure why you were about to turn him down. He’s fairly attractive, with pretty features and slim hands, and his lips—but his lips. You’re reminded too much of another pair, and the thought makes you squirm in your seat.
You feel sixteen again, rebellious and a little wild, looking at Minho’s pleased smile and the little scars on his fingers as he taps the side of the glass. Hyunjin should be back any moment, and you know you should be a little more scared of his reaction, but a little voice at the back of your mind eggs you on at the thought of him. A little part of you that wants to elicit a reaction, to prod and poke and provoke something from the raven-haired boy.
“Here you go,” Minho says, naming a vaguely familiar-sounding drink as he slides a glass in front of you. A thought flashes through your mind—ruby lips and narrow eyes, a stern voice telling you never to drink and drive. But I’m not driving, you think rather petulantly, and lift the glass to your lips.
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Hyunjin is on a road high when he finally stumbles into The Dragon’s Tail.
The rush is even better when the win isn’t expected, so walking in knowing he did despite the bets being on his opponent makes it a thousand times better. He feels like he’s taken a hit of the good shit—he knows what that’s like due to an unfortunate teenage incident—as he goes up to the bar, eyes seeking a head of bleached lavender hair because he knows Felix is with you, still buzzing from all the congratulations.
Hyunjin had been adamant on not letting you near the deep transport tunnels, much less near the actual tracks, for what he had stated were ‘safety’ reasons. It may or may not have had something to do with a severe lack of confidence—something about knowing you were watching him when he lost had been too much for him to bear. Hyunjin isn’t a proud guy, but when you look at him, when you see him, he feels like standing straighter.
He spots you on a seat next to the bar, a wide smile on your face that Hyunjin isn’t aware he’s mirroring as you lean forward to put a hand on Felix’s chest. No—that’s not Felix, Hyunjin notices, the smile slipping from his face as he takes in the darker corn-silk gold of the boy’s hair, the catlike smile, his hand as it curls around your wrist.
“Hyunjin!”
He’s broken out of his reverie at the sound of your voice, and turns to see you getting up off your seat and beginning to move towards him. You look happy, he realizes, perplexed and confused and strangely angry, as you move towards him with that million-dollar smile on your face.
“You’re late,” you whisper as you get to him, placing a hand on the front of his leather jacket, fingertips zinging against the zipper. Somehow, he hears you through the noise. There’s an off-kilter manner to the way you’re moving and speaking, a languorous brightness that makes his toes curl. “You were supposed to be here half an hour ago. Your friend was nice, though, he kept me company while you were gone.”
“You’re drunk,” he realizes, eyes narrowing as they flit over your shoulder to land on Minho, who’s watching the two of you through hooded eyes, the lower half of his face hidden by a glass as he crosses his legs and reclines against the barstool. “How much did you have?”
“I’m not drunk,” you protest, and Hyunjin’s jaw clenches. He forcefully looks away from Minho’s challenging stare and clamps a hand around your upper arm, turning and steering you out of the bar. “Hyunjin, I’m not drunk.”
“Where’s Felix?” he asks, looking around for a familiar face, but comes up empty. You hum as he pulls out his phone and unlocks it, scrolling through the texts from Felix he missed during the race. They’re frantic and apologetic, and though Hyunjin can never stay mad at his friend for long, he feels sour at the realization.
“I think something came up,” you say, in answer to his earlier question. “He said he’d be back soon, but I’m guessing it took him a little too long…don’t worry, though, he didn’t leave me alone. I had Minho.”
The name sends another pang through him. The wave of euphoria Hyunjin had been riding on before seems to have crashed and burned like an unfortunate racer, and all he feels is a bitter tang of something sharp and ugly and green-eyed on his tongue hearing you speak so cheerfully.
“I’m calling Jeongin,” Hyunjin says, though his heart isn’t in it. You make a sound, but don’t struggle as he pulls you out of the bar and into the dark space out on the street which looks dead in the nighttime.
“It’s midnight, Jeongin’s probably asleep,” you say, trying to pull yourself out of his grasp as you leave the exit. His face moves from light to shadow as you go to the spot where the GT is parked, out of the reach of the lights of the bar’s neon signs. “Hyunjin, it’s not that late. You’re being such a killjoy right now.”
Hyunjin’s jaw tightens even more, but he doesn’t say anything. You lean against the low hood of the car, watching him with bright eyes as he fishes the keys out of his pocket and unlocks the door. His movements are jerky and rougher than usual, and you seem to have noticed despite being inebriated, because you slide your hand to his jaw and turn his face towards you. “Are you angry with me?” you mumble, brow furrowed. “Is it because it’s late and your roommate is going to lock you out?”
“That was my roommate,” he says through gritted teeth, and you blink slowly, uncomprehending. “The guy who bought you all those drinks? Yeah.” He pulls open the door, ignoring the heat that crawls up his skin where your fingers are in contact with his face, and pulls you towards it. “Get in, I’m driving you home.”
“But I didn’t even see the races,” you mutter, ducking to get into the shotgun seat anyway. The space is small and cramped, and you pout as you wiggle in, keeping your legs hanging over the side. The Ford is big enough for one person, and he always feels just fine racing with the low seat and small space, but it’s difficult getting another in. He hadn’t even expected to have to drive you home—well, he had, but not in the Ford. It’s the first time he’s ever regretted not having a backseat in his racecar.
Ignoring the fluttering wings trying to break free in his abdomen, Hyunjin leans down to guide you in, hands hooking under your knees to lift your legs in, but you suddenly decide to resist. Instead, you grab the collar of his jacket again, pulling him in over you, so you’re flat against the seat and he’s hovering over your body.
Hyunjin stiffens, unable to do anything but watch as you trail your fingers up from his collar to the line of his throat, then moving to slide into his hair. “You need a haircut,” you whisper, hands carding through the thickness of his hair to free it from the rubber band that’s pulling it back. Locks of raven hair slide free from the ponytail to frame his face, the ends tickling your exposed collar.
He’s not worried about someone seeing you—the whole street is a ghost street, devoid of life and prying eyes. Everyone’s still inside, he knows, since the night is still young for the partygoers.
“You’re…” he starts in a whisper, feeling his heartbeat pound in his chest and throat like a drumroll that’s slowly growing louder. You reach up, brushing your lips against his, and heat blooms in the pit of his stomach, spreading upwards into his chest like a spill of something viscous and hot. He feels your hands tug lightly at his hair as you deepen the kiss, tongue tip tracing the outline of his lips, a current singing in his veins.
Your tongue is slow and lazy, teasingly tracing patterns into his mouth. He feels bits of his sanity breaking away from the cluster and go out of the window, and he goes higher, higher, higher, until he’s sure he’ll be able to touch the clouds if he tries reaching up. You’re under him, and he can feel his body against yours, warm and alive and—and he can taste the pungent tang of something alcoholic on your lips.
That is reminder enough to bring him back down to earth, and hard. He jerks away, breathing hard. You’ve gone still, looking up at him with eyes that are no longer hooded but alert and round. “You don’t want this,” he says. “You’re drunk.”
He sees a flash of emotion in your eyes, searing bright and sharp, unlike the slow look from before. It rises and swells until the rest of your face is taut with it too, and you’re pushing him away with surprising force. “Damnit, Hyunjin, I am not drunk!” you yell, and he pulls away and out of the car in surprise. “I’m an adult and I know how much I can take, alright?” Your eyes are brighter than usual when you pull your legs in and pull at the car door. “You know what?” you ask bitterly. “Forget it.”
He wants to say something, so bad that his chest aches with the effort it takes to keep it in, but he manages not to. Instead, he clears his throat and looks away.
You’re silent as he slips into the driver’s seat, silent as he starts the engine, silent throughout the ride. Say something, Hyunjin wishes fervently, but the stars don’t listen. They only glare down at him as you get down and walk away, not looking back once.
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It’s been two weeks since.
You’d like to think you’ve forgotten about him, or that the bitter emotion you’d felt that night is almost gone, but that’s not true and you know it. Not when you’re still in Jeongin’s house an hour after the party’s over, secretly hanging on to the hope that Hyunjin’s going to turn up.
“Hey. Dude.” Jeongin’s voice doesn’t wake you from your mental slumber, but his prodding finger does when it digs into your shoulder. The room comes back into focus, and you look at the boy in half-surprise and half-indignance at the sharp pain, swatting his hand away. Jeongin flattens his lips and sits down opposite you. “I’m going out in another half an hour for a little after-party thing with my friends.”
You raise your eyebrows at him. “Are you kicking me out?”
You’re the only guest left over from the party, which says something about how desperate you are, even though you haven’t breathed a word about what happened that night to anyone, even Jeongin. The boy had noticed your mood right away despite that, but had stayed quiet and given you space instead of needling you, something you’re thankful about. Jeongin can be annoying, but he’s sensible enough to know when to shut up.
And when it comes to you, he knows even better. You’ve known him for years, longer than anyone else on the campus, having shared the same high school as him before getting into the same university. Even if he’s a little more excitable and volatile than the average adult, you still trust him more than you trust maybe anyone else.
“I’m not kicking you out,” he says with a roll of his eyes, kicking away a crumpled solo cup at his feet. “I was gonna suggest you crash here for the night. Tomorrow’s a day off anyway—you haven’t eaten anything substantial and takeout’s going to be hell at this hour so just heat up the leftovers and stay here, alright? I’ll be back before morning, hopefully, so we can walk back to your place together.”
You exhale loudly, flopping down on the bed with your hands folded over your abdomen. Jeongin raises his eyebrows at you, but you stay silent. “Okay,” you say at length, voice so soft that he barely catches the response. “How long before you leave?”
“I’m already ten minutes late, so thank you for that.” He gets up, making the weak mattress bounce, and wads up a blanket to toss it at your face. You snatch it out of the air before it can hit you, and sit up with a halfhearted scowl. “Aren’t you tired after all that moping?”
“I was not moping,” you say, adding more than the required touch of indignance to your voice. The blanket bunches up where you fist your hands around it, imagining you’re wringing someone’s neck.
“Sure,” Jeongin scoffs, but his face quickly turns sober. The tacky fairy lights you bought for the occasion blink gold and white, making his sweater turn different colors. He looks away nonchalantly, moving towards the door. “I did ask Hyunjin to come, you know. He said he had a race scheduled for tonight so he wasn’t sure if he was going to make it, so don’t be too hard on yourself.”
Your eyebrow quirks up. “Who said I was being hard on myself?”
Jeongin purses his lips, but the serious expression doesn’t drop. “He’s always busy, never showing up for any kind of outing. Whatever happened between you two has nothing to do with this, so don’t think of it that way.”
“But it’s your birthday,” you say in a small voice. The room suddenly feels small and sad and constricting, and you feel a rush of guilt knowing that you’re making it about yourself.
“Go to sleep,” Jeongin presses, grabbing the keys from the peg. “I’ll be back late—or early, whatever. You don’t want to tire yourself out thinking about a boy.”
That provokes a soft groan from you. You kind of want it to be a reason he didn’t show, to have a hint that you’ve affected him as much as he’s affected you, but you don’t want to sound petty. “You were doing so well, birthday boy. But you just had to bring him up, didn’t you?”
A smile tugs at his lips. Jeongin doesn’t say another word, and the next thing you hear is the click of the front door closing. You lie back down, drawing the blanket around your shoulders and hugging it to your chest. Despite the leather jacket you’re wearing, your skin still feels cold. Almost as if the chill is inside.
You’re not hungry, so you skip Jeongin’s instructions and come straight to the sleeping part, kicking your bare feet up onto the bed and bringing the blanket over the rest of you. You’re exhausted enough that you don’t bother taking off your jeans—and it’s not like you have anything to change into, seeing as Jeongin wouldn’t take kindly to finding you asleep in his pajama bottoms. But try as you might, you can’t seem to fall asleep either. The lights blink infuriatingly in your face when you keep them open, and closing them doesn’t help. Every time you do, you see the face of a particular racer as if it’s burned into the backs of your eyelids.
“Damn it,” you say softly, feeling your eyes sting. It’s even worse knowing that you’re usually so put-together, crying over something so trivial. It’s not even that bad—you didn’t get dumped or cheated on or anything that could have hurt a hundred times more, just…rejected. That’s not what hurts. You could have lived with something as little as that, but Hyunjin’s been avoiding you for so long that it’s eating you up from the inside. It’s not one-sided, either, you’ve been ignoring him too, but it still makes you feel like shit.
The bell rings, and you get up, quickly wiping away any evidence of tears and pathetic sniffling. You hadn’t even realized it had been that long—maybe Jeongin’s back already, and you don’t think to glance at the clock before going to the door and swinging it open, the jacket still hanging over your shoulders.
And come face-to-face with Hyunjin.
He looks equally surprised at seeing you, even panicked, like a cornered animal. Your heart leaps into your throat, but you clench your teeth, schooling your features into an expression of calm. He looks like he had before, just as stunning and glance-stealing, but somehow even better than before, as if the few weeks you’d spent away from him has made him even more appealing to your eyes. There’s nothing decorative about his outfit—it’s the same jacket and loose white tee underneath, dark hair tied back like he’s about to race.
“You’re late,” you say flatly. “Party’s over.”
His lips part, but nothing comes out. For a few seconds, he just stares at you, and you see his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows. Your expression shuts down, and you take a step back, about to close the door.
“Jeongin’s not here,” you say. “If you want to see him, you can come by tomorrow. I’ll be gone by then, so you won’t have to worry about running into me.”
He seems to freeze up. “Did you, uh —get your driver’s license?”
“Yes.” The word is clipped. “So goodbye.”
Something awakens in his face at the last sentence, like a machine being kick-started. “I, I wasn’t—avoiding you,” he says helplessly.
“You need to lie better if you want to convince me,” you say, narrowing your eyes. How can he lie about something so obvious? “My god, Hyunjin, I wasn’t going to kill you for saying no if you didn’t like me. I just—I hate that you think you had to run away.” The dam breaks, and the words pour out, spurred on by your breakdown from moments ago. “I’m mature enough to handle that! I can look after myself, contrary to what you think. I’m not a child.”
He takes a deep, shaky breath at your words. “That’s not what I said,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”
“Well, you could have said so, instead of letting me wallow in self-pity,” you snap, feeling the pressure build behind your eyes again. You pause and close your eyes, taking a deep breath. “Fuck,” you mutter, trying to compose yourself. “Just go, Hyunjin.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and you open your eyes to see a conflicting look in his eyes. His brow furrows slightly as he takes in your face, your eyes which are no doubt red from all the crying you did earlier. “Have you been…crying?”
You bite your lip, tears threatening to spill again. “Please,” you say, beg, feeling like there’s a crater opening in your chest. “Leave.”
His eyes widen fractionally, expression shifting to hurt and uncertainty. Hyunjin parts his lips, looking like he’s about to comply, but then his jaw sets. It’s a stubborn look, defiant, and he stands his ground instead, placing a hand on the door to prevent you from closing it. “I’m sorry I made you feel like that,” he says, almost forcefully, and takes a step closer. “But you’re wrong. I like you. I do. I like you a lot.”
You bite the inside of your cheek, taking a step back involuntarily. The broken wings of your heart flutter at his words, but your expression doesn’t change, drops of tears throwing light across your vision when you blink. “Then why—”
“Because I can’t be with you,” he says, and your heart breaks again. Hyunjin reaches forward, grasping your arm, and tugs you towards himself. “No, wait, listen. Listen. I can’t be with you because…I’m not good for you.”
You frown, unable to understand, and he purses his lips. “You’re amazing, okay?” he says, looking a little wild. “You’re kind, and you’re smart, and funny, and with a whole future ahead of you. And I’m nothing but a college dropout whose only skill is driving fast.” He clenches his jaw, and you see the muscles stand in his cheek. “You deserve something better. Someone who can stay with you and support you, and I’m not good enough for that. For you.”
For a few moments, you’re stunned into silence. “So that’s why I stayed away,” he continues, but you can barely hear him over the buzzing in your head. “Thinking that you’d be fine after some time, that you’d forget me and move on and find someone better.”
His grip loosens on your arm and finally drops, slowly and reluctantly. He’s still leaning against the door, looking guilt-ridden and rueful, but doesn’t say anything further. You stare at him, shaken and disbelieving, close enough to see the little dry tears on his lips. The fairy lights wink, casting different colors on his face, gold and white and silver.
You exhale shakily. “You’re so fucking selfish, Hwang Hyunjin.”
He tilts his head slowly, trying to comprehend but failing. “…what?”
“You came to the conclusion that you’re bad for me by yourself, without even asking me what I think,” you say. He blinks, taken aback. “You’re always treating me like a kid, but you really crossed the limits with this. Did you never stop to maybe consider what I want?”
He doesn’t seem to be capable of answering at first. “Well,” he says lowly, slowly wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue, voice so husky it makes shivers travel down your spine. “What do you want?”
Your mouth goes dry, but you hold his gaze steadily. 
“I want you.”
His breath leaves his mouth in a puff of air, the warmth of it tracing your face with ghostly fingers. His dark gaze bores into you like a hot rod, the milliseconds before his lips part ticking away like hours. “I want you, too.”
His eyes flicker down to your lips and back up. You stand stock still, too afraid to move as he inches forward, hesitantly prying your hands away from the door and settling on your hips. He leans in, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips which leaves your heart hammering in your ribs, and pulls away by centimeters—time slows to a trickle—and leans in again, the same time you lean up, your mouths colliding like planets and asteroids.
He tastes like chocolate, which only gives you incentive to pull him closer and kiss him better. The scent of faded male perfume—probably from rubbing shoulders with his racer buddies—and smoke from the tracks rolls off him, invading your senses, and you sigh against his lips.
You reach up to grab the collar of his jacket, pulling him closer, and Hyunjin’s hands slide up to your waist, gripping it as he kisses you. You take a few stumbling steps back, pulling him to the door with you. The kiss is messy, tongues and clashing teeth and heavy breaths as he fumbles to shut the door behind him. Your hands are hasty and searching, and Hyunjin makes an impatient noise at the back of his throat before slipping his hands down to hook under your thighs, pushing your legs up around his waist to carry you into the room.
Your back hits the bed roughly, and then he’s on top of you, shrugging off his jacket as you do the same with yours. As soon as they’re off, Hyunjin’s hands slide to your jaw again, cupping it for ease of access as he kisses you again, hungry and fast. His fingertips are cold on your hot skin, slipping under your t-shirt and travelling up your sides until they come to the band of your bra. His thumbs hook under the band, making you gasp at the contact, and he uses the opportunity to part your lips wider, tracing your mouth with his tongue.
You tug your shirt off, and when he pulls away for a gasping breath, his pupils are blown wide, irises nothing but a thin circlet of dark brown rimming his eyes. “I like you so much,” he says, voice hoarse, before dipping his head to plant a line of butterfly kisses down the length of your collarbone. His fingers hook into the waistband of your jeans, and you suck in a sharp breath, throwing your head back and feeling the cool air on your neck where his tongue had traced a line on your skin.
His mouth finds yours again, nipping and breathless. A wave of sobriety washes over you momentarily, and you hold on to it and grasp his collar. Hyunjin makes a petulant noise, straining to kiss you again, but you hold him still. “Wait, wait, wait,” you say, the words tumbling from your breathless lips like unruly waves. “You know that you’re not actually bad for me, right? You’re smart and sweet and funny, too, and you’re doing your thing, which is also cool.” You’re stammering, but Hyunjin doesn’t seem to mind. A slow smile blooms on his face at your words, and you lick your lips, looking at him with round eyes. “You’re perfect. For me.”
Hyunjin doesn’t answer, instead choosing to press his lips to yours in a drawn, lazy kiss, slower than the others but sweeter, too. When he pulls away, freed strands tumble from his hair where you’d pulled at it, and he licks his lips slowly, as if tasting the remains of you on them. “Mhm,” he murmurs into your mouth, forehead and nose pressed against yours.
“Good answer,” you whisper breathlessly, and his full lips curl into a smirk. 
You close your eyes, letting him take control again as you reattach your mouth to his. He groans a little into the kiss, fingers curling where they’re gripping you, pushing you so close it’s as if he’s trying to crush your bodies together. He pulls away only a second later, to ask, “Do you have a—”
“Um, no,” you mumble, frowning. “I think Jeongin—no. I don’t think Jeongin has any, either.”
At the mention of Jeongin’s name, some of the wildfire seems to dim in his eyes, and he scrunches his face up with a groan that comes from frustration rather than pleasure. “Man, Jeongin’s going to kill me.”
You sit up, suddenly feeling the rush of desire ebb away—not quite, but enough to let you keep your hands off him for a few moments. Hyunjin reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and your hands slide back into his hair. Okay, maybe a little less than a few moments. “He’ll be back late,” you whisper, watching his eyes darken. “He doesn’t have to know—and he won’t mind too much.”
“Yeah?” Hyunjin mumbles, massaging slow circles into your bare shoulder as he pulls you down. You lie back again, and his full lips curl devilishly, making heat burst in your gut. “Let me make you feel good, then.”
And he does.
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joongtreasure · 4 years
Text
Hello Stranger  ||  Street racer!Hyunjin + Car mechanic!Hyunjin
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Hyunjin street racing au + car mechanic au
Genre: Fluff Pairing/s: Hyunjin x Reader
Warning/s: illegal street racing, slight making out
Word count: 4.9k
I was listening to Hello Stranger while writing this
Jisung blankly stared at the last card on the discarded pile. The red color seemed to glare at him in return. Changbin, Felix, and Jeongin waited for his move, wishing for the suspense to be over. They followed Jisung’s gaze as he looked alternately between the discarded pile and the last card that he was holding.
Felix grumbled. “We don’t have all day.”
Jisung scoffed before putting his last card down, revealing a wild draw four card. “I win!” Jisung threw his fist in the air before breaking into a mini dance.
“That’s not how you win in Uno!” Felix retorted.
The four got into a heated discussion about the rules of Uno. It was a typical Saturday in Chris Bang’s Garage. While some of Chan’s friends work for him, others would just laze around on the second-floor lounge. Almost every day they would hang out there, which Chan didn’t mind.
A voice interrupted their petty banter. “Hey, this is a garage, not a living room,” Hyunjin called from the work area. He gave them a pointed look before referring to the customer at the cash register. The customer was waiting awkwardly by the counter to pay for the repairs he requested in Chan’s garage. Felix scrambled from the couch to attend to him.
Hyunjin shook his head before laying on the car creeper. He rolled himself under the car that he was tending earlier. It also became part of his job to reprimand Felix to focus on his work rather than getting distracted by their friends. Chan's business was booming and they need all the help that they can get.
For Hyunjin, the garage is basically his home. It all started when he kept losing in his first few races. He needed the money so their family could get by. When Chan found out, he offered Hyunjin to work for him in the garage. He even offered to train him to be a better racer. Hyunjin readily agreed. He poured great efforts in working efficiently for Chan. In the end, not only did he become one of the greatest racers in the streets, but he also became Chan's right-hand man in the garage. He loved what he was doing. Now, he couldn’t imagine a life not surrounded by engines and the like.
“Ya ya ya,” Changbin called out from the lounge area. “If a nerdy-looking girl comes looking for me, call for me, alright?” He said.
“Define nerdy-looking,” Hyunjin said.
“Wears glasses, band shirts or cartoon shirts, and sneakers,” Changbin said before plopping back to the couch, not waiting for the crew to reply.
You looked at the address your brother sent you, then at the place in front of you. Chris Bang's Garage—your brother wanted to meet you here. You got into the same university as your brother, and you couldn’t wait to see him and his friends. Unfortunately, your brother had a prior commitment today, so you opted to take the bus instead and agreed to meet him in his friend’s garage.
You entered the already-open commercial garage doors. You were greeted with the sight of different flashy-colored cars. Some were hoisted on car lifts while others were being fixed on the ground. What got your attention was the debate between two guys about Uno.
“Didn’t Uno have a point system in the first place?” A boy with white hair argued.
“No!” A guy who oddly reminded her of a squirrel said. “The first person to discard all of their cards wins the game.”
You giggled at the sight before turning to the nearest person to ask for your brother, which was someone under a broken car. You hesitated, unsure if you should disturb him in his work.
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Hyunjin wanted to block out their noise. He was really considering hitting them with a wrench to shut up.  It wasn’t helping him concentrate on his work; the rest of the crew probably had the same thoughts. A pair of sneakers caught his attention. No one else seemed to notice someone standing by the entrance so he rolled out of the car to check who it was.
You were greeted by the sight of a blonde guy with a bandana. He was wearing a muscle tee that showcases his toned arms and work pants that had different tools in its pockets. His skin was glistening with sweat, probably from working in the garage. You suddenly became flustered as he was a sight to behold. He stared at you curiously.
Hyunjin was dumbstruck. The sunlight blinded him at first,  then his eyes focused on your figure staring down at him. You looked utterly beautiful, ethereal even. You were probably a customer, seeing as the description Changbin gave didn’t fit you.
Hyunjin stood up and wiped his hands with a clean rag, wanting to look presentable in front of you. He suddenly became conscious that he was covered in sweat. He licked his lips, suddenly feeling his whole mouth go dry. He felt like he was undeserving of your presence. Why? He doesn't know.
“Can I help you with something?” Hyunjin asked, mustering a smile.
“I’m looking for my brother…” You replied, still dazed at the handsome guy.
“Brother?” Hyunjin pondered. “Who’s your brother?”
As if to answer his question, a voice yelled from the lounge. “Y/N!”
Changbin came running down the stairs, almost slipping (being the clumsy friend that he is). “It’s been so long!” He greeted you with a bear hug, swinging you around.
“Oppa, we saw each other during Christmas break.” You laughed but returned the hug.
Everyone in the garage was probably thinking the same thing: Changbin’s your brother? Hyunjin’s gaze switched alternately between you and Changbin, noting the vast contrast of your qualities. Changbin is like a demon summoned to make their life miserable. On the other hand, you look like an angel from heaven. What the hell? He thought.
Hyunjin looked at the others if they had the same thoughts. His question was answered at the sight of Jisung, Felix, and Jeongin openly staring at you. After pulling themselves together, they came down all at once, eager to meet you. Hyunjin rolled his eyes.
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It’s been two weeks since your arrival, and what an excruciating two weeks it has been for Hyunjin. He can’t seem to focus whenever you’re around. One time, you just passed by and he was distracted momentarily that he didn’t notice that he stepped on a car creeper. He ended up slipping, his back landing perfectly on the ground. You were instantly beside him, but he refused to accept any help from you, choosing to trudge away in pain. Another was when you simply said hi to him. He waved back at you, but somehow the tire that he was fixing got loose and landed on his foot. He spent the rest of that day limping. So, he did the most logical solution, he avoided you.
You noticed this, of course. You find Hyunjin interesting. When you first met, you had a really good feeling about him. You felt like you could be close to him, so you tried to initiate interactions with him. But, lately, you have noticed that he’s been avoiding you. You didn’t see him anymore whenever you visited the garage, or whenever Changbin’s friends were hanging out at your place. You figured he didn’t like you so you stopped trying.
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You knew Changbin was street racing ever since high school. You were the only one he trusted in the family to keep his illegal activities secret. Though at first, you didn’t like it, you knew there was no stopping Changbin. So you simply supported him, coming to his races from time to time.
You were doing your homework in Chan’s lounge while the boys were preparing for a race. You were supposed to leave in a while, but you got curious as you watched the boys doing last-minute fixes on their cars. You have no knowledge on cars, but, for you, they look really cool.
Hyunjin went up to the lounge to rest for a bit. This day was extra tiring. Felix’s job of delivering car parts to customers was thrust upon him; the younger boy apparently took a day off. Then, he helped his friends prepare for the race tonight. He was eager to get a power nap before going to the venue. Of course, that was before he noticed you on the couch. He immediately froze. ‘Would you notice him if he left all of a sudden? The stairs would be noisy.’ He thought.
You noticed Hyunjin, frozen at the topmost step. He probably didn't want to see you, you thought, so you started packing your stuff. “I’m sorry, you can use the couch,” you offered. "I was about to leave."
“No,” he said. “You don’t have to leave.”
“Really?” You chuckled. “I thought you didn't like me.”
“No, I like you.” Hyunjin winced at his own words but explained further. “I mean, I don’t NOT like you. I'm just… I'm just not used to new people.” A big lie.
“Ahh, I get it.” You nodded understandingly.
Plucking up the courage, he walked towards the couch and sat hesitantly beside you. You both were silent for a moment, the only noise you hear are the conversations among the boys in the work area and their engines. “Are you gonna watch the race?” Hyunjin asked, breaking the silence.
“Nope, I still have to study. I might leave in a few minutes though.” You turned to him. “How about you? You racing tonight?”
“I'm not sure yet.” He replied.
Another moment of silence. It wasn’t awkward. You both were comfortably watching your friends work. Though, you took the chance to admit something to Hyunjin. “I really admire you, Hyunjin.” You said. “You seem to love everything about cars.”
“What’s there to admire?”
“Well, you always seem to have your own bubble whenever you work. You’re really good at what you do.” You said.
"It's not that big of a deal." He said, rubbing the nape of his neck stiffly.
"To you, maybe," you said. "But still, I admire you."
Thank god to Chan for forgetting to change the bulb in the lounge, because he was blushing as hell at your words. He was speechless, to be honest. He never had anyone straight up tell him that, especially from the girl that he likes.
You giggled. “Let me guess, you’re also not used to getting compliments.”
Hyunjin shrugged. “You got that one right.”
You laughed. “You’re cute.” You said before standing up and getting your bag. “I should go, it’s getting late.” “You got a ride?”
You shook your head. “I’m taking the bus.”
He stood up too. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”
“But aren’t you going to the race?” You asked.
Hyunjin scoffed. “Nevermind, they’re gonna win anyway. Besides, it’s been a long day. I want to rest early.”
“Okay then.” You both went downstairs, shouting a quick goodbye to everyone before following Hyunjin to his car. Unbeknownst to both of you, your friends were smiling among themselves. Changbin, on the other hand, had a scowl, not sure if he likes the idea of you with Hyunjin.
Hyunjin’s car was a black and white Mazda RX7. “Sweet ride,” you said, looking at his car from top to bottom. Hyunjin opened the passenger side for you. What a gentleman, you thought. You said your thanks before hopping in. When you both were buckled up, he drove out of the area.
Hyunjin sped up as he got into the highway. “Are you comfortable?” He asked.
“Yes, thank you.” You mumbled. “You know I always wanted to see you race.”
“You do?” He chuckled. “You’d be bored.” You asked why, to which he replied while smirking, “No one would stand a chance.”
“I have never pegged you to be arrogant, Hyunjin.” You laughed. “Now I really want to see you race.”
“I’m just stating facts.”
You rolled your eyes. “Sure you are."
Hyunjin drove the car into the suburb on the hillside. There were perks of having Changbin as your brother: a home that has a great view of the city, an awesome circle of friends, and, the best one of all, him as your chauffeur in a cool car.
The hill was quiet. Only a few houses lived on this side of the city. The road was basically dead, so you thought of something that could be fun for both of you. "Is it difficult to race uphill?" You asked.
"No," Hyunjin smirked. "Why?"
"Oh nothing," you said, acting nonchalant. "I just feel like this car is too slow or something."
Hyunjin shook his head in amusement. "Are you sure about that?" He shifted the gear and the car accelerated gradually until your surroundings became blurry. You held on to your seatbelt, anticipating the rush. You were in awe as trees blurred past you. "This is so cool." You muttered.
Hyunjin shifted gears, going faster. Normally, he wouldn't put someone in danger like that, but the way you initiated the challenge made him think that you also liked the rush. He wasn't even sure if it was okay with Changbin, but he still continued as he saw you actually enjoying the ride.
Reaching a curve, Hyunjin drifted the car smoothly until the road became straight again. The road towards your home consisted of a few more curves. Plus, it was uphill. One wrong maneuver and you might take a tumble down the hill. You eyed Hyunjin. “You can do it, right?”
Hyunjin just smirked. He drifted the car again as you reached another curve. Your worry vanished as he managed to drift through a few more curves with precision. You looked at him. Despite his cocky attitude earlier, he looked carefree at the moment. You figured that he likes racing for the thrill; that he was in it for the ride and not for the money. It really showed right at this moment. Soon, you felt the car slowing down until Hyunjin parked his car in front of your house.
You grinned. "Well, that was fun."
"Really?" Hyunjin laughed. "Are you okay?"
“Are you kidding? I can't remember the last time I've felt so much thrill in my life."
"Not even when Changbin's driving?"
"Changbin would drive like a mom when I'm with him." You retorted. "He never drives like that with me. Like ever."
Hyunjin hung his head in disappointment. "He's gonna kill me then."
"Don't worry." You giggled. "It'll be our little secret."
Hyunjin smiled, looking at your elated expression. He would do anything to see you happy again. Seeing you like this made him warm inside. That night, he changed his mind about avoiding you.
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Ever since that night, you and Hyunjin grew closer. Your bond was natural; always annoying each other, always challenging each other. You started hanging out in Chan's garage more often than usual; from catching up with him in the lounge to helping him work. You actually became familiar with the different tools that he used. He would do the heavy work while you just handed him whatever he needed.
The other guys find it amusing that you were hanging out with Hyunjin rather than your brother. Changbin was quite bitter, but, in a way, relieved. Seeing you bloom in college made him happy, proud even. But, he was nervous that you would start dating guys who probably don't deserve you. When he noticed that you and Hyunjin seemed to be fond of each other, he was relieved. He trusts Hyunjin. He wanted nothing more than seeing you both happy with each other.
That's why Changbin approached Hyunjin because he trusts him when it comes to you. He'll start his internship soon. From then on, he would be too busy to pick you up and drop you at school. He knew Hyunjin’s work schedule in the garage is flexible. He’s doing this because 1) he hoped that through this, you two would finally realize you both like each other, 2) he thought that it would be good for Hyunjin to get out of the garage from time to time, and 3) again, he trusts Hyunjin when it comes to you. 
"Hyunjin," he said, leaning against the car that Hyunjin was fixing. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
Hyunjin rolled out of the car with a curious look. He stood up, cleaning his hand with a rag. "What's up?"
"As you know, I'll be starting my internship soon and I won't be around much to take care of Y/N," Changbin said. "I was hoping that you could drive her around to school."
"Sure," Hyunjin said without much thought.
"Well, that was easy." Changbin chuckled. "If I tell you to confess to her, would you?"
Hyunjin blushed, muttering 'I don't know what you're talking about.'
"Ya, you're so obvious." Changbin shook his head. "Just know that I'll come for you if something goes wrong, yeah?" He rubbed Hyunjin's hair teasingly before leaving the boy in a blushing mess.
Changbin told you about Hyunjin, and you were honestly happy with the setup. You would see Hyunjin more often now, even outside of the comforts of Chan's garage.
You just finished your last class for the day, and you were looking forward to seeing Hyunjin. You brushed your way past the hoard of students in the hallway. Arriving at your school's parking lot, you immediately spot Hyunjin. However, you frowned at the sight that greeted you.
Hyunjin was leaning against his car, looking annoyed as ever as a couple of students crowded him. A few guys were admiring his car while some girls were trying to make small talk with Hyunjin. Though he made it clear that he wasn't interested, they wouldn't leave him alone.
"I really like your car." One of them said, tucking her hair behind her ear. "You must be really rich." Her posse giggled.
Hyunjin scoffed. 'Pretentious,' he thought. He ignored her despite her approaching figure; his sneakers more interesting than them.
The girl touched his arm and that’s when he finally had it. He moved away instantly. "Can you leave now while I'm being nice?"
You approached them, worried about Hyunjin. "Hey," you greeted.
Hyunjin visibly brightened when he saw you. He moved to the passenger side, opening the door for you to get in. You did so hesitantly, wary of the glaring eyes in front of you. Hyunjin got to his side and drove the car out of the school premises.
"How was school, princess?" He asked, smiling. His mood changed, you thought.
"It was okay, I guess." You said dryly.
Hyunjin frowned. "Is there something wrong?"
You shook your head. Maybe you were tired. Discouraged, maybe. You didn't know. You just didn't have the energy to talk at the moment.
Hyunjin was restless inside though. He couldn't stand the thought of you being down for some reason. But he respected your space, knowing you, you would eventually tell him if something's up. You both rode in silence as he drove you to your home.
Hyunjin parked in front of your driveway. He immediately got out of the car, moving to your side and opening the door for you. You chuckled. "You don't have to do this every time, Jinnie."
"I was just making sure you won't scratch my car." He scoffed.
"Right, of course, you are."
Hyunjin stared at you, and you feel yourself deflate under his intense gaze. "Did something happen at school?" He asked.
You didn't want to admit that what happened earlier bothered you. The thought of Hyunjin with another girl made your skin crawl. Your brain kept telling you to acknowledge your feelings towards Hyunjin, but you just can't, knowing he probably doesn't feel the same.  And, of course, you’re worried that you were already burdening Hyunjin. He looked uncomfortable at school earlier.
You shook your head. "How about you?" You asked. "I kinda saw what happened earlier."
Hyunjin groaned. “They were annoying."
“Aigoo~” You chuckled, pulling the headband and letting it go with a snap. "No one seemed to be good enough for you, Jinnie."
Hyunjin rubbed his forehead comfortingly. You. He thought. You'd be more than enough.
"It's getting late." You said, walking away from the car. "I'll see you tomorrow, Jinnie."
"See you, princess." He mumbled, leaning against his car as he watched your figure enter your home.
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You stuck out like a sore thumb amidst the wave of skimpy and lavish clothing. You had just finished your classes when Hyunjin picked you up and told you that he was going to race tonight. You instantly agreed when he asked you if you wanted to come and watch. So, there you were, leaning against Hyunjin's car as he met one of the organizers of the race.
Changbin approached you with a playful glint. "Wah, it's been so long since I've seen you in the streets."
"Someone has to be the mature one if anyone of you decided to do something stupid." You teased. "Especially you."
"Especially you~" He mocked, which made you laugh. "But now, you did not only come for me, did you? You came to support Hyunjin."
You hit Changbin in the arm. "Ya, I support all of you."
"Sure you do."
Hyunjin came back after handing his pot money. Changbin man-hugged Hyunjin, wishing him luck before leaving you two alone. "You gonna wish me luck, princess?"
"I didn't know you needed luck." You giggled. "But, do be careful."
"Always am." Hyunjin smiled. He removed his jacket, leaving him in his usual tee that exposes his toned arms. You looked away, trying to hide the flustered look on your face. You were surprised when he draped it around your shoulders. "Wear it for me?"
"Why? You'd get cold." You said.
"Just wear it for me, princess."
You sighed before putting your arms inside the sleeves. "I'll be going now," he said. "Stay with Changbin and the others, yeah?"
You nodded, watching him hop into the driver's seat. You bit your lip when you thought of something that can potentially ruin your friendship with Hyunjin. Would it? You thought. Plucking up the courage, you tapped on Hyunjin's window. He rolled down his window, confused. "What's wrong, princess?"
You gestured for him to come closer. As he did so, you kissed him quickly on the cheek. He stared at you, surprised. A kiss could be platonic, right? You thought of things that could save your friendship. Hyunjin had other thoughts though. Before you could explain, he planted a quick kiss on your lips. This time, you were surprised. Hyunjin simply grinned. "I'll catch you later." He said before driving to the starting line.
You patted your cheeks, trying to shake off the giddy feeling. You weaved through the crowd until you found your friends and your brother near the starting line. You stayed with them until the race is over.
Hyunjin felt restless behind the wheel. He already felt the adrenaline kicking in as he waited for the flagger to start the race. Not only that, the other drivers taunted him earlier, saying they'd ask your friend—you—out after the race. That didn't just make him subtly claim you by making you wear his jacket, it also made him more determined to win the race. However, after the kiss, he already felt like a winner. You meant that romantically, right? Thinking about it excited him. Feeling giddy, he hit the steering wheel repeatedly in excitement.
The flagger raised his arms and the crowd hollered. "Drivers, are you ready?" He yelled. When the drivers gave him an affirmation, he swiped his arms down, signaling the cars to go. The cars zoomed instantly through the night.
You stood between Changbin and Jisung, nervous to the death. It's been so long since you came to events like this. It's like seeing Changbin race for the first time again.
Jisung was cheering Hyunjin's name beside you. Upon seeing your face, he softened. "Hey, relax. Hyunjin's good. One of the best in these streets."
"I know," You said. "I just can't help it."
Changbin chuckled. "You should date him after this."
You hit Changbin again for the second time that night. "Shut up."
"Aigoo, is my sister flustered? Aigoo." He teased.
Slap!
Changbin rubbed his arm in annoyance, finally feeling the burn after a series of your slaps that night.
The crowd went wild as the sound of engines returned. You all saw the cars speeding towards the finish line, Hyunjin's car and a different car leading the race. You all watched in suspense as the two cars alternately surpassed each other by mere inches.
"Oh, I can't look." You said, turning around.
Jisung pulled you. "Ya look!"
You saw Hyunjin's car overtake the other car in a burst, probably using his NOS. The crowd celebrated as Hyunjin sped past the finish line first. You jumped in excitement, hugging Changbin in a tight grip. The crowd surrounded Hyunjin as he went out of his car to receive his win. Your friends bombarded him with whoops and man hugs, while you and Changbin opt to just wait for him behind the buzzing crowd. Hyunjin searched the crowd for your face. You waved from the back, hoping he'd see you. When he did, he waved back, looking euphoric.
Changbin nudged you. "Just go to him." You nodded bashfully. "Don't stay out too late, okay?" He said before leaving, probably going to Chan's to celebrate.
The crowd was already dissipating when you approached him. You were almost at Hyunjin's when you were stopped by a guy you've never met before.
"Hey, I'm Kim." He said. "Have I seen you before? You look really familiar."
"Sorry I don't know you." You replied.
"Well, I think you're really cute. Can I ask for your number?"
"I'm not interested." You turned him down immediately. You sidestepped to get past him but he grabbed your wrist.
"I mean no harm, babe," Kim said. "I just want your number."
"I said no, okay?" You said, trying to pull away from him. "I'm not interested."
Kim was about to reply when a gentle hand touched the part where Kim's hand is gripping yours. It was Hyunjin. "She said no, Kim. Please remove your hand and let her go."
Kim did so but took a taunting step towards Hyunjin. "How about we race for it huh, Hyunjin? You were just lucky tonight."
"She's not a prize." Hyunjin glared. He placed his hand behind your back and ushered you to his car.
You looked at Hyunjin briefly. His mood definitely turned sour despite his win. You slipped your hand in his, hoping to lighten up the mood. "Hey, you dropped your crown, princess. Keep your chin up." You teased.
Hyunjin laughed then smiled at your hands, intertwining them. "Trust me, I'm more than happy tonight."
"Congrats, by the way." You said. “Although, you already knew you were gonna win.“
"Let's celebrate." He said.
"Sure, I think they're at Chan's right now."
He shook his head. "I want it to be just us."
You pondered. "What do you have in mind?"
"You pick, princess." He kissed your hand. "Anything, anywhere, I don't mind."
You blushed at the action. "How about dinner at my place?"
"Sounds great." He said, leading you to his car.
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At your place, you cooked ramen. Though you offered to cook something else, Hyunjin wanted something easy and instant. He reasoned that he didn't want to bother you too much, but, actually, he just can't wait to spend more time with you. After eating, you both chose to watch a movie. Although a few minutes in, the movie was already forgotten as Hyunjin won't stop hugging you. You were basically on his lap and he kept nuzzling his nose on your neck.
"Hyunjin," you chuckled. "You're not watching the movie."
Hyunjin mumbled, "Let's just stay like this for a while."
"Okay, but can we clear something between us first?" You said. You grinned as his cute head peeked at you.
You slid off his lap and sat beside him. He faced you with an amused expression. "I just need to know... where our relationship is heading." You mustered.
Hyunjin smiled. "I really want to date you, Y/N. I want you to be my girlfriend." He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. Beautiful, he thought.
"Okay then." You said.
"Is that a yes?" Hyunjin came closer, gently touching your cheek, staring at your eyes. "You'd be my girlfriend?"
You nodded meekly and muttered a yes. He held your cheeks before kissing you repeatedly on the forehead. You giggled. Then, you both gazed into each other's eyes, briefly looking at each other's lips.
"Can I kiss you?" He asked gingerly.
To answer his question, you placed your hands on his shoulders and kissed him. He responded almost immediately, his hands resting on your waist and on your cheek. You sighed as your lips slowly molded against each other. You put your hand to the side of his face, momentarily brushing against the headband on his forehead.
You pulled away, giggling to yourself when Hyunjin tried to chase your lips. He rested his forehead against yours, staring intensely at your eyes. Feeling courageous, you pushed Hyunjin until his back was against the couch and you straddled him. He caressed your face, taking in every detail. "Beautiful," he muttered, leaning closer for another kiss.
You kissed again with much more fervor this time. Your bodies were firmly pressed against each other. His hands were clutching your waist, rubbing it up and down. You delicately traced his biceps until finally resting them against his chest. You felt one of his hands slide gently down to your thighs.
It would have been an interesting night if you didn't hear Changbin's car park in the driveway. You pulled away from each other, smiling. He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. You giggled, doing the same thing to his hair.
The front door opened, revealing a sleepy Changbin. When he noticed your position, all traces of fatigue vanished. "Ya!" He yelped.
You didn't want to move, but Hyunjin gently placed you beside him, probably trying to get on your brother's good graces.
Changbin rubbed his eyes as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. He shrugged. "Keep it PG when I'm here, okay?" He glared at Hyunjin, pointing his finger as if he's saying 'I'll be watching you' before disappearing to his room.
You and Hyunjin just laughed at each other before cuddling on the couch, finally paying attention to the movie.
197 notes · View notes
maaaaaatryoshka0325 · 5 years
Text
Fast Lane - Bang Chan Street Racer AU
Warnings: fluffy, suggestive themes, some angst (duh), Bang Chan (y’all know what I mean)
Word count: 6.8K+
If you guys don’t know what ‘F/N’ means, it means ‘friends name’
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Your eyes focused on the girl walking in the middle, her shorts too short, high knee checkered socks on with a pair of checkered vans. She held two flags in her hands, as she was the keeper of their time. The engines revved, and people cheered.
You watched another car pull up, a jet black Bugatti Chiron. You knew who the owner was, everyone knew. He always had the newest, fastest cars, and because of that, he usually always won. Cheers got even louder a he began to pull up to the starting line, as it was going to start soon. He stepped out of the car and people greeted him, all with fake friendly smiles.
There was something about him you had always liked, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Maybe it was the way he never rejected anyone, always being super friendly towards anyone who came his way. It could be because the last person who crash and their car caught in fire, he was the one to pull them out, completely unafraid of the raging flames and the ungodly smell of the oil and gas leaking. Or it could be the way he made eye contact with you every time. When his eyes met yours, they held a type of want in them, the type that made your heart flutter.
It wasn’t the type of want that shone in the other guys eyes when they looked at women, no, not that. His eyes weren’t hungry, but curious. Curious like he wanted to know you, who you truly are, and not just the woman you’d be in bed. Your friend bumped you and giggled and you looked up, seeing his eyes on you.
He gave you one of his devilish side smiles, his dimple poking through his cheek. You blushed and smiled back, a little too shyly for your friends liking.
“C’mon Y/N, you’re beautiful! You need to be more confident!” She said.
She stopped and looked up and shook your shoulder excitedly as he looked at you again, before slipping into his car. The other racers entered their cars, all revving their engines. All bets were on Chan, people were throwing money towards his name like their lives depended on it. His car revved, a loud roar like a lions before the girl threw the flags down, and everyone flew past her. Chan’s car was so fast you couldn’t even see it take off in the dark night.
People cheered and cheered, you could hear everyone from the opposite side of the high way. Their loud cheers let you know that Chan was winning, and you could imagine his shiny black car flying down the highway with ease. The cheers began to pick up through the crowd, slowly making its way to where you were, like a domino effect. You watched Chan’s car gracefully glide through the finish line, which was messily spray painted on the road. Loud cheers and screams of his name echoed around you as he stepped out of his car, his light brown hair fell messily over a bandanna, his leather jacket hugging his broad shoulders in the most attractive way possible. (SEE GIF)
He smiled as everyone crowded around and and praised him, a bunch of girls in the tiniest clothing rubbing up his chest and shoulders. You turned back around, your attention on your friend as she talked to another racer, Minho. You felt dumb thinking he looked at you in interest, why would he? He has all those girls in those skimpy outfits all over him, so why would he waste a second glance on you? Minho seemed very interested in your friend, his dark eyes completely concentrated on her when she talked.
You went to turn towards the other racers, when your face almost met someone’s broad chest. You looked up and saw Chan standing there, a smile on his face.
“Hey.” He greeted you with his charming side smile.
“H-Hey.” You greeted back, feeling flustered at how close he suddenly was.
His cologne hit your sense and made your stomach flutter with butterflies. It was a nice scent, not too strong, the perfect amount to have your heart hammering in your chest and your stomach fluttering with butterflies.
“What’s your name?” He asked, his dark eyes trained on yours.
He was so close to you, his plump lips soft and looked wet, smelling of honey. He was wearing chapstick, and you were almost positive your heart was going to explode.
“Y/N.” You answered, your eyes finding his.
“I’m Chan.” He introduced himself.
“I know.” You said with a small giggle.
“Oh? Well I’ll tell you something you don’t know.” He said, leaning forward to say it lowly. “My birth name is Chris, Chan is just my Korean name. You can call me Chris if you want.”
Your face began to heat up and he smiled at you, his own heart fluttering. He thought it was cute how flustered you got, how shy you were.
“Wanna go for a spin?” He asked, pointing towards his car.
“I would love too, but I’m not at all into the um... Extremely fast stuff.” You said awkwardly.
He let out a small laugh, running his fingers through his hair.
“I wouldn’t go fast like that with precious cargo in my car.” He said.
Your face turned bright red at his words, and you felt your friend nudge you forward. Her eyes were encouraging you, and you saw encouragement towards Chan in Minho’s eyes.
“I’ll meet you back at your place later.” She said, motioning her eyes towards Minho, indicating she was going somewhere with him.
You nodded as Chan led you to his car, unlocking the doors and opening the passenger door for you. The car doors open upwards, and he smiled at you as he closed it for you.
Such a gentleman.
He got in on the drivers side, and you felt him reach across you. Your heart hammered into your chest as he pulled on the seat belt and buckled you in. He paused as his face was directly in front of you, a small smile on his face.
“It gets caught a lot. Gotta keep you safe though.” He said with a sweet smile.
He sat back in his seat and slipped his own seat belt on, and you felt some sort of relief knowing he did so. He pulled away from the races, people still cheering when they watched his car glide down the highway. You were relieved as he kept his promise, not going too fast. Yeah he was decently above the speed limit, but it was the normal “there’s no traffic so I can do what I want” speed.
“So, where are you from?” He asked.
“(Hometown/Country).” You answered.
“Wow, really? I’m from Sydney Australia.” He said.
“That explains the accent.” You giggled.
“Hm? Do you like accents?” He asked.
“I like yours.” You said.
You realized a little too late what you said, but the smile that stretched across his face made your heart flutter. His eyes remained on the road, but you noticed he kept slide glancing at you.
He pulled up to a calm lake and opened your door. You stepped out and he smiled at you as he lead you along the lake, the cool breeze becoming bitter against your skin, as you were wearing a light sweater. He seemed to notice you shiver and took off his leather jacket, putting it over your shoulders. You noticed he was wearing a short sleeved white shirt that hugged his chest and shoulders, and blushed.
“It’s cold and you’re wearing a T-shirt-“ you started, attempting to take off his jacket.
“I’ll be fine, I like cooler weather.” He said, his hands over yours to stop you from taking his jacket off.
You smiled at him and slipped your arms through the sleeves, loving how big it was on you. His eyes sparkled as he watched you walk around with his jacket in, admiring how the bottom brushed your thighs. He walked closely to you, his cologne hitting you from where he was, and from his jacket. The moon reflected on the calm water, casting an ethereal glow. Not only was the reflection ethereal, but so was Chris. The way the moonlight hit the side of his face and lit up his handsome features made your heart throb.
He took you to an opened spot over looking the lake, sitting on the grass. You sat beside him and looked around, admiring all the of the flowers and willow trees beautifully decorating the scene. He looked at you, his eyes taking in all of your features. Your cute nose, your beautiful eyes, your kissable lips, all of it. You turned your head and looked at him, giving him a sweet smile that made his heart pound a mile a minute.
“I always come here to ease my mind when I’m stressed or over thinking. I figured I’d share it with you.” He said with a soft smile.
“You’re so generous.” You giggled, looking at the water that was gently moving along. 
You both remained silent for bit, enjoying each other’s company as you admired how beautiful the spot was. He slowly stood up, flashing you that handsome side grin. (YA’LL KNOW WHICH ONE.)
‘It’s getting late princess, I should bring you back.” He said.
Your heart fluttered at the nickname as you stood up, following him to his car. He opened the door and lifted it for you again, his eyes on you as you sat down in the passenger seat. He made his way to the drivers side, sitting down and looking at you with a sweet smile. 
You told him your address and he drove to your house, his eyes glancing over at you as he played low music. You heard him sing and you smiled, your eyes landing on his plump lips.
“You have a beautiful voice,” You said.
“No voice is more beautiful than yours.” He said with a small smile, grabbing your hand and kissing it as his eyes stayed on the road.
When you got out front of your apartment, you turned towards him and gave him a sweet smile. 
“Thank you for tonight, here, you should take your jacket back.” You said, going to take your jacket off.
“Don’t take it off, hold onto it. Now you have to come see me at the races in a few days to give it back.” He said with a sweet smile.
“I’d be there even without it.” You said with a smile.
He kissed your hand again and waited until you were inside to drive off, making sure you were safe.  “Y/N!” 
You jumped and turned around, your eyes wide as you stared at F/N. She had a big smile on her face as she looked at you, grabbing your hands excitedly.
“What happened? Did he go fast the whole time? Did he kiss you? Is that his jacket? OOOO, DID YOU SLEEP WITH HIM?” She bombarded you with questions and you laughed, shaking your head.
“No I didn’t sleep with him dummy, and yes this is his jacket. He kissed my hand and told me to hang on to it and that now I have to be at the races in a few days to give it back.” You said with a big grin. “What about you and Minho?”
“He took me to get food then we walked around for a bit, he’s so sweet! EEK! We have to go to the races!” She said excitedly, jumping up and down.
“Trust me, we’re definitely going.”
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 
You stood with F/N as you both had gone to the races again a few days later. Minho was getting ready as he stood and talked to you both, and you couldn’t help but smile at him and F/N. Minho had a cold demeanor, but he was so sweet when it came down to your friend. He looked at you for a moment and smiled, pointing with his face. You looked over and saw Chan approaching you, his soft eyes trained on you.
“Still wearing my jacket I see.” He said with a sweet smile, another leather jacket on his body.
You nodded and took it off, handing it to him. He took it back, making you feel rather sad, but he slid the one he had on from around his shoulders and put it on you, a small smile on his face.
“What are you doing?” You asked in a giggle,
“That one is warm and smells more like me, and this one? It smells like you, now it’s my lucky charm, and so are you.” He said, kissing your hand and giving you a charming smile.
Hoots and hollers came from the men around you, all cheering Chan on as he was talking to you. You noticed a couple jealous glances from some of the girls around you, but you pushed it away as your eyes met Chan’s.
“Cheer me on, yeah?” He asked, turning away.
“Always.” You said.
He looked back at you and smiled as he hopped back into his car, revving the engine and lining up at the starting line. The girl who always started them walked in the middle, her eyes finding yours as she gave you a smile. She threw the flags down and the cars took off, flying down the highway. She walked over to you and you felt F/N tense, wondering if she was going to give you trouble.
“You’re the girl Chan has been raving about?” She asked. “Y/N?”
“U-Uh yeah.” You responded, feeling a little intimidated by her beauty.
“Ah, good! I’m Yenna, Hyunjin’s girlfriend. Chan will treat you great! He’s a sweetheart, and really picky with his women.” She said with a big smile.
You felt F/N relax and you did too, giving her a big smile.
“It’s nice to meet you Yenna, I’m Y/N and this is F/N.” You said, introducing you and your friend.
“F/N? Like the girl Minho fawns over?” She asked.
“Yup! That’s me!” F/N said proudly.
You and Yenna giggled at her response, before you both turned to loud cheers. Chan was in first place, his car flying towards the finish line.
“GO CHAN!’ You yelled happily, the other two cheering with you.
Chan’s car flew through the finish line and pulled over to the side. He stepped out and people swarmed him. But he didn’t seem to notice, his eyes wandered until they landed on you, a smile stretching across his face as he walked through the crowd and approached you. You walked over to him and met him half way, his arm wrapping around your waist as he gave you his charming half smile.
“I told you that you’re my good luck charm.” He purred.
“You would’ve won anyways.” You giggled.
“Not without you.” He whispered.
He looked at F/N and smiled as she giggled as she pushed at Minho’s chest, and you could tell he was taking her home tonight.
“I’ll bring Y/N home.” Chan said.
Her eyes brightened as she nodded and gave you a thumbs up as she hopped in her car, following Minho out to his house. You had your own car, but you often left it at home, as F/N liked to drive. 
He once again opened your door for you, then hopping into the drivers seat. His eyes were on yours as he reached over and fastened your seat belt, your eyes on his plump lips as he did so. He smiled down at you and then put his own seat belt on before taking off, his eyes fixed on the road. You admired his face as it focused, his eyes completely scanning the road as drove. He gave you a quick glance and smiled as he drove towards your place, surprisingly remembering where it was. He pulled up and smiled at you, and you nodded your head towards your apartment.
“Wanna come in? We can hangout for a bit if you want.” You said with a smile.
He quickly nodded and parked his car, following you into your apartment. Chan looked around as you led him inside, a smile on his face.
“You and F/N are like sisters, huh?” He asked, noticing all of the pictures the two of you had up on your walls.
“Yeah, she practically lives here too, she took over the guest room.” You laughed.
“Sound’s like a best friend, actually, it sounds like my friend Felix. You’ve seen him, right? He’s usually with me, but he’s away right now. He’ll be back for the next race.” He said.
“I’ve seen him a few times. He’s the skinny one with the pudgy cheeks, right?” You asked.
Chan laughed and nodded.
“He’s pretty muscular for being skinny.” He laughed.
“Oh? You stare at your friends body?” You asked.
“Not like that! We just workout together. Him, Changbin, Jisung, and I.” He laughed.
“You workout?” You asked, giggling.
“Yeah, wanna see?” He asked, raising his shirt a bit, some of his muscle showing.
“Chan!” You yelped, turning around and covering your blushing face.
He laughed and shook his head, amusement in his eyes.
“I’m only teasing you.” He giggled, ruffling your hair. “You’re so cute when you’re flustered.
‘Yeah yeah yeah.” You muttered, pouting as your cheeks remained red.
“What? I’m serious. You really are cute Y/N.” He said with a smile.
“Yah! Stop!” You yelled, your cheeks turning redder.
He pinched your cheeks and you yelped, making him chuckle.
“Such a cutie!” He laughed.
You pushed his hands off and ran away from him, making him giggle as he grabbed you by your waist. You yelped as you lost your footing from him grabbing you, causing you to fall. He quickly caught you and went down instead, landing sitting up. You straddled his waist, your cheeks bright red as he looked at you, an innocent smile on his face. He giggled as you struggled to find your words, his hand gently cupping your chin and pulling it foreword, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.
Chan’s kissed were better than you imagined (Yes, you had imagined his plump lips on your own) and tasted of milk and honey. You closed your eyes and leaned into the kiss as both of your lips molded together. He deepened the kiss, his tongue swiping your bottom lip. His hands were around your waist as you gave him entry to your mouth, his tongue quickly finding yours and dancing with your own. You lied about his kisses being good, because they were the best you’ve ever fucking had, they were perfect. His tongue quickly won the dominance fight, but it never stopped it elegant, yet sloppy waltz with your own. You let out a tiny moan as your hips rolled against his own, making him let out a low grunt, his finger digging into your hips. Your fingers clutched his shirt tightly, making it wrinkled. His collar bones were exposed as you bunched his shirt in your fists, tiny whimpers leaving your mouth as your tongue’s continued to press into each other.
He pulled away and panted, trying to catch his breath. His dark eyes were full of desire, but they held so much adoration in them that your heart fluttered.
“As much as I’d love to see every bit of you and make you mine, I think I should take you on a date first.” He rasped, a sweet smile playing on his lips.
“I’d love that.” You giggled, letting go of his shirt and rubbing along his chest to get the wrinkles out.
He had a built chest, and you blushed as your hands ran along it to help him get it to look normal again. He grabbed your hands and pressed kisses to both of them, his eyes full of affection.
“How about in two days? I’ll take you on a date.” He asked, hope in his eyes.
“Perfect” You giggled.
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You looked down at your outfit, smiling as you admired how the tight, ripped jeans hugged your ass and hips, looking elegant on your legs. You wore a black shirt with a logo beneath (Use your imagination) with Chan’s leather jacket as a top. Your cute black boots looked good with the outfit, making you smile. You heard F/N come in and squealed as she looked you up and down.
“You look great Y/N!” She squealed.
“Thank you!” You giggled, admiring your dark make up, your (Straightened/curled) hair, and your outfit. You heard the door bell rang and hopped down the stairs, opening the door and seeing Chan. His eyes met yours and he gave you a big smile, walking into your apartment.
“You look ethereal.” He breathed, his eyes bright.
“So do you.” You giggled.
His brown hair was parted, his plump lips moistened with chapstick. He wore another leather jacket, a black under shirt, and tight, ripped jeans that had a chain hanging from them, and black combat boots. You admired him as he smiled at you, placing a sweet kiss on your cheek.
He drove to a park along the river, a bunch of vendors with food trucks and a park area with lights and hammocks along it.
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(This is Penn’s landing, it’s close to where I live and I love going there) (For more visual representation, look up ‘Penn’s landing harbor park’)
Chan walked along with you, the night sky lit up by all the lights. Chan led you to a truck, a smile on his lips.
“This is the best one.” He said.
You both ordered and he paid, insisting he was the one taking you on a date. You both sat down and ate, your eyes admiring all of the lights and the hammocks, seeing all of the couples laying inside of them. Chan noticed and chuckled, leading you towards one when the two of you finished eating. He laid in it first, pulling you in with him. Your body was on top of his, his arms around you. You blushed and laid your head on his chest, listening to his heart hammering against his chest and giggling. He blushed a little bit, letting out a small laugh through his nose.
“Don’t make fun of me, I get nervous too.” He said with a soft chuckle.
“Awe, you’re nervous Channie? You’re so cute.” You giggled.
He groaned and pulled you closer, burying his face into your hair. You giggled and closed your eyes, his warmth making you feel at home as your pounding heart began to relax. His fingers began to thread through your hair, his other hand running up and down your back as you melted into him, his touch leaving sparks wherever they were. He pressed soft kisses to your hair, making you smile.
“Thank you for tonight, Chan. I loved every minute of it.” You whispered.
“It’s not the end.” He said softly, looking up at the sky.
You looked up, admiring the thousands of stars over head as a loud boom filled your ears, and bright colors lit up the sky. You watched in awe, your head rested on his chest as the fireworks boomed over head in different colors. His fingers traced circles on your hips as he admired your face, half illuminated by the fireworks. He smiled at you, his eyes full of affection. You looked back at him and smiled, burying your face into the crook of his neck.
After the fireworks he led you to his car, as always, opening your door as you got in. He hopped into the drivers seat and fixed your seat belt for you, this time stealing a quick kiss before he pulled away. You blushed and giggled as he fastened his own seat belt, a sweet smile on his face. He pulled away from the park, heading back to your apartment, his hand resting lightly on your thigh as he did so.
He took the highway back, as it was quicker and he didn’t want to keep you out too late, as you had work the next day. He got off at an exit, hitting a light before heading to another part of the highway. You heard revving and looked over, seeing two guys on motorcycles looking at you. A few more pulled up behind you and on Chan’s side. You saw his jaw tighten and his eyes narrowed. His eyes watched the light before he quickly turned his head and looked at you, his eyes dark.
“Do you trust me?” He asked.
“Chan what-”
“Do you trust me?” He repeated.
You slowly nodded and he tightened your seat belt. When the light turned green, his foot slammed down on the pedal, literally putting the pedal to the metal. His car flew and you closed your eyes, covering your face with your hands. You heard the motorcycles in the distance, seemingly following you for awhile.
“Hang on Y/N.” Chan said as he took a sudden turn, the motorcycles passing the turn due to going too fast. 
Chan kept up with his quick speed until he knew they were gone and he slowed down. He sighed in relief as he looked over at you. Your feet were on the seat, your hands pressed to your knees as your eyes were covered by them. He slowly reached his hand out and rubbed your thigh, a soft exhale coming from him.
“It’s over babygirl, I promise. I’m so sorry.” He said gently.
You slowly uncovered your eyes, fear making them wide. His gentle hand rubbed up and down your thigh, his gentle voice relaxing you as he reassured you it was over and done with.
“It’s okay babygirl, it’s okay.”
When you pulled up to your house Chan got out, opening your door. He followed you up your stairs to your apartment, wrapping his arms around you from behind.
“I’m so sorry about that babygirl, I really am. I didn’t know that would happen - fuck - I’m so sorry.” He said softly, kissing the back of your shoulder.
“Chan, what was that?” You asked.
“I raced their friend two years ago and he crashed and died, and they haven’t left me alone ever since.” He said softly.
You turned and looked at him, a lost look on his face as he looked down at you. You cupped his cheeks and kissed his lips, then his forehead.
“It’s not your fault Chan. Not what happened to their friend or what happened tonight.” You said softly.
He smiled at you and kissed your forehead, a hopeful look in his eye.
“So, you’ll stick around with me? You’ll still go on dates with me?” He asked.
“I trust you Chan, more than you’d ever realize.” You said with a smile.
“I’m glad. You should get some sleep, I’ll see you for the races?” He suggested, his eyes bright.
“Of course you will silly, and you should sleep too. Your eye bags are bag.” You said, running your fingers along his left eye.
He kissed your hand and gave you a sweet smile. “Anything for you, my dear.”
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A lot of people showed up for this specific race, and you realized why. The guys that had followed you were in the races, this time in cars. The one that had pulled up directly next to your side looked at you, his eyes narrowed on you. You tried to ignore him, to keep your back to him, but your worry for Chan grew strong, making you feel sick to your stomach. Chan walked up with someone else, and you recognized Felix immediately.
“Great, they’re here. I thought they would’ve given up by now.” He grumbled, irritation in his eyes.
Chan walked over to you and pulled you in by your waist, your head against his shoulder.
“Don’t pay attention to them love, and stay with all of your friends.” He said softly.
“Please don’t race tonight Chan. They’re after you.” You begged, burying your face into his shoulder.
“I’ll be find, I promise.” He said softly.
You closed your eyes and held him tightly, anxiety pricking at you. He cupped your cheeks and looked into your eyes, a reassuring smile on his face.
“I’ll be careful babygirl.” He said, kissing your forehead.
“I’ll protect him, no worried.” Felix said with a big smile.
You smiled back at him and nodded, giving Felix a hug too.
“Be safe Felix.” You said.
Chan smiled at you as he and Felix walked to their cars, hopping in and putting their seat belts on. You turned when you heard F/N calling for Minho to come back, fear on her face. Minho passed you and you looked at him, worry matching F/N’s. 
“Be safe out there Minho.” You said.
“I will be, I have to do this. I can’t let them all go in like that without me.” He said.
He opened his door and slid into his seat, pulling his seat belt across his body. He revved his engine as Yenna stepped between the cars, anxiety on her face as she did so. You saw Hyunjin looking at her, anger in his eyes at the fact she was still doing it, despite the other guys being obviously dangerous. She mustered up her courage and put a smile on, dropping the flags as everyone shot passed her. She sighed in relief as they all passed, but turned around and watched them, worry across her face. 
“Yenna!” F/N called.
Yenna went to the both of you, worrying plastered on her pretty face.
“I’m so scared.” She whispered, tears brimming her eyes.
“We are too, but I know they’ll protect each other.” F/N said confidently.
“You were really brave for still holding those flags Yenna.” You said, rubbing her shoulder.
She gave you both a thankful smile and pulled you both into a hug, comforting the three of you. The continues cheers going on from the opposite side had you biting your nails in anticipation, anxious for Chan’s car to appear. Your heart leaped through your chest when you saw it, but noticed something wrong. His back bumper looked like it had been hit, and he sped through the finish line quickly, followed by another car and Felix’s car. You recognized the car as the man’s from earlier and the other night, and also noticed his front bumper had some damage. You gasped when you realized he must’ve hit Chan, and was now after him. Felix kept pushing his car closer the other, trying to get him off of Chan.
“Felix!” You gasped as the opposites car hit the side of his own, sending him straight into a pole. 
His car flipped into a ditch and you took off, your feet pounding against the ground.
“Y/N!” F/N and Yenna both called for you.
You saw Chan's car skid next to the spot where the ditch was. He hopped out of the car, his divers side door wide open and his car siting in the middle of the road as he went straight down into the ditch. You ran to the top of the ditch and saw Chan ripping the door open, his eyes on Felix, whose eyes were closed as he was dangling from the seat belt.
“Felix!” Chan called for his friend, jumping into the car on it’s side and unbuckling him.
Chan started to lift him out as Minho and Hyunjin ran past you, quickly grabbing Felix as Chan had to haul himself out. They quickly moved him away from the car, as it was smoking. Chan dropped down beside him and cradled his head, his breathing heavy as he held Felix’s face. You noticed Felix’s eyes opened and he gave Chan a pained smiled.
“You idiot! Why would you do that?” Chan asked, his voice shaking.
“I finally know what’s it’s like to have a brother, and we brother’s protect each other.” Felix rasped out.
Chan held him tightly, soaking his hoodie in blood as he cradled Felix.
“All of you go.” Chan said lowly.
“Hyung-” Hyunjin started.
“Go! An ambulance is on the way, I don’t want any of you getting in trouble.” Chris yelled.
Hyunjin was about to protest when Yenna put her hands on his chest, meaning for him to listen to Chan. Hyunjin let out a small sob as he looked at Felix one more time and allowed Yenna to lead him away. F/N gently rubbed Minho’s shoulder as he let a few tears slip down his face before gently pulling him away.
“You should go too.” He said to you.
You knew he wouldn’t take no for an answer, so you nodded. You bent down and kissed his cheek, your hand holding Felix’s gently. Felix gave you a pained smile before he let out a small whimper, blood trickling from his mouth. You slipped your hand onto Chan’s cheek as you looked at him.
“I’ll be waiting for you.” You whispered, before allowing Minho and F/N to bring you to the car.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
It’s been two days since Felix’s accident, and you haven’t heard from Chan. You had tried texting and calling him, but he never picked up, and the others were having the same luck. You wracked your brain, trying to find out a way to see him, as you never been to his place. A thought popped into your head and you grabbed your car keys, heading out the door.
You parked your car across from the lake, quickly getting out and walking to the spot that Chan had showed you. You sighed in relief when you saw him sitting there. His knees were up and his arms were resting on them, his face buried into his arms. You slowly walked over and bent down in front of him, rubbing his arms. He quickly lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours. Your heart dropped when you saw the dark circles around his eyes, the whites of his eyes bloodshot.
“Y/N?” He asked.
“I’m here.” You whispered, getting on your knees between his legs and wrapping your arms around his neck.
You felt his arms around your waist as he buried his face into your chest. You stroked his hair and kissed his head, holding him tightly.
“Everyone’s been so worried Chan, I’ve been worried.” You whispered.
“I’m sorry I just... Couldn’t face anyone.” He whispered into your chest.
“Chan, this isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault.” You said.
You felt him flinch at your words, then his arms tightened around you as you felt something wet on your neck. Your heart broke when you realized he was crying, crying because he had been blaming himself. You cradled him in your arms tightly, tears filling your own eyes.
“Chan it isn’t your fault, I promise.” You said softly.
“I’m sorry.” He cried.
“Shhh, it’s okay. I promise, it’s okay. He’s still alive, and he’s going to fully recover.” You whispered.
It was true, after surgery, Felix was said to make a full recovery. He had been awake after his surgery, and you, F/N, Yenna, Minho, and Hyunjin had been there to see him, along with Changbin, Jisung, Woojin, Seungmin, and Jeongin.
“I know it’s just... He got hurt because of me.” He whispered.
“It wasn’t because of you, Chan. It was because of that man. And I know you would’ve done the same for him, so please stop blaming yourself. You pulled him out of a smoking car, and not many people would do that. And in fact, no one else rushed to help him. You saved him, Chan.” You pointed out, cupping his cheeks and wiping his tears.
It was the first time you’ve seen him look so defeated, deep bags, messy hair, and a sad face. He closed his eyes and laid his head back on your chest, soft sobs leaving his lips. You held him and whispered comforting words into his ear as he clutched you tightly, before pulling away and wiping his eyes.
“They’re participating in another race tomorrow, and said if I win they’ll leave everyone alone.” He said.
He watched your face drop, your eyes scanning his. How could he risk himself again?
You felt him pull you into his lap, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.
“I’ll be careful babe, please, just have faith in me. That’s all I need.” He said softly.
You closed your eyes and nodded, hugging him tightly. He held you to him before pulling away and cupping your cheeks, kissing your lips softly. You leaned into his kiss, the kiss sending tingles down to your toes.
“As long as I have you, my sweet luck charm, I can do anything”
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
You, Yenna, and F/N once again found yourselves biting your fingers, anxiety eating the three of you as the boys lined their cars up. Chan got out and walked over to you as you took off his leather jacket and swapped it with the other. He had a soft smile on his face as he pulled you into a hug, his face burying into your hair.
“Be safe.” You whispered.
“I will, I promise.” He said softly, pecking your lips.
His warm eyes held your gaze as he stroked your cheek before walking towards his car. You watched Minho kiss F/N’s forehead and Hyunjin placed a loving kiss to Yenna’s lips before they walked away to enter their cars. Yenna looked scared to hold the flags, so you grabbed them, looking Yenna in her eyes.
I have to give Chan confidence and courage.
You stepped between the front of the cars, your eyes on Chan’s. He stared at you, undeniably mad, but also understanding. The others looked at you with admiration as you raised the flags, then dropped them.
You closed your eyes as the cars flew by you, making your hair whip in the breeze. Please be safe, all of you.
You opened your eyes and walked back towards Yenna and F/N, and they both praised you on your bravery. But you had to be brave for Chan, you just had too. The three of you waited anxiously, pressed close to each other as you heard screams and cheers from the other side. You bounced your leg fluidly as you bit your finger, just wanting to see Chan’s car. Just wanting to see ANY of their cars. Your heart leaped into your throat when you saw Chan’s car in the front, the opposites right behind, but surrounded by Hyunjin’s car and Minho’s car. They had locked him in.
Chan’s car flew through the finish line first, loud screams filling the area. Chan pulled over and got out, followed by Minho and Hyunjin. You ran to Chan, your heart beating through your chest as you leaped into his strong arms. He caught you and held you tightly, smiling up at you. You grabbed his face and kissed his lips, relief filling you as you felt his touch. You leaned your forehead on his, your noses touching.
“I told you, all I needed was you to have faith in me.” He whispered.
You smiled and kissed his lips again, warmth spreading through you to your toes, a feeling you were growing used too. The other man’s car pulled close to the crowd and he got out, face pissed.
“You all cheated! You can’t trap me in!” He yelled.
“It’s also cheating to play bumper cars while racing. Now get out.” Minho said sharply, stepping in front of Chan, Hyunjin stepping in on the other side.
All of Chan’s fans agreed, making the mans face turn red.
“Fine. A deals a deal.” He growled before taking off.
You heard your phone go off and saw a facetime from Jisung, as you had exchanged numbers. You answered and saw Jisung’s face, Changbin behind him, and a clear shot Felix sitting in his hospital bed.
“How did it go?” Jisung asked, worry in his voice.
“We won.” Chan said with a smile.
You saw Felix smile as Jisung moved the camera to him, his eyes sparkling.
“I knew you’d win hyung.” He said.
“When I have you guys to protect, of course I will.” He said softly, his eyes landing on you. “I’m glad you’re getting better little brother. You can rest easy now.” He said.
“I can rest easy knowing I can always find you.” Felix said warmly before hanging up.
Chan smiled, tears in his eyes as he lifted you back up, kissing your lips.
“Thank You, Y/N, for giving me strength and courage.” He said softly.
“I’ll do it anytime, any day, in a heartbeat.” You said softly.
He smiled at you and held you close, his heart beating against your ear.
“You’ll always be my lucky charm, my love.”
1K notes · View notes
koishua · 3 years
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▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ . . . 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗦𝗘 𝗠𝗘, 𝗔 𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦.
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yang jungwon x female reader ft. park jisung.
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𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀. the year closing in on a dystopian 3022, you spend most of your days awake to speed through the broken down streets and highways of seoul with your friends. though with the emergence of a new group of racers from the next city over, you are in for some of the most exhilarating adventures of your life after their young leader proposes a deal.
𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲. action (?), cyberpunk/dystopian!au, street racers!au ft. enhypen and nct dream. fluff. angst.
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀. mild language throughout the chapters, accidents may happen as they are literally adrenaline junkies, mentions of injuries, may have slow updates at times, illegal auto racing, reckless driving, mentions of character deaths, characters have no sense of self preservation istg someone drill some sense into them—
𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁. you may ask to be added to this series' taglist through an ask if you're not already in my main taglist!! i will be posting the first chapter on 19.12.21!
one: @junityy @gyuuss @intokook @leavethemonsteralive @iuwon @envirae @fairyjunn @luvholicz @renjunvrse @pixi-ki @rae-blogging @enhyseob @jitaros @jdyunvrs @kdyism @yourlocalhotgf @strwberrydinosaur @mark-lees-world @99swinwin @99outros @heejojo @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @tyongishs @yutaalove @yangianwon @icywhatim @sunshine-skz @i2gyus @twntycm @sooblvr @whoe-dis @thegracerammy @injanggarden @90sni-ki @wccycc @peridaunt @sunfics @woo-minhee02 @yyxy27 @jaeyuncult
𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲. hi y'all i bet you saw this coming xnxbbx yes im a whore for any racing aus pls racing is my life racing is my love so yeah buckle on and enjoy this thrill ride <//3
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▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ . . . 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧.
𝟬𝟬𝟬. teaser
𝟬𝟬𝟭. prologue
𝟬𝟬𝟮. encounter
𝟬𝟬𝟯.
𝟬𝟬𝟰.
𝟬𝟬𝟱.
𝟬𝟬𝟲.
𝟬𝟬𝟳.
𝟬𝟬𝟴.
𝟬𝟬𝟵.
𝟬𝟭𝟬.
𝟬𝟭𝟭.
𝟬𝟭𝟮.
𝟬𝟭𝟯.
𝟬𝟭𝟰.
359 notes · View notes
hyunjun-jpeg · 3 years
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SKZ Fics Recs sorted: Trope/AU
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enemies to lovers
exes to lovers
friends to lovers
idiots to lovers
lovers to enemies
strangers to lovers
slice of life
a
angel/devil  arranged marriage
b
bad boy
band
barista
bet
body guard au
breakup 
c
ceo
college
cop/detective
coworker
d
dancer
doctor
domestic
e
established relationships
f
fairytale
fake dating/marriage
family
figure skater
fwb
g
h
hanahaki
high school
historical/dynasty
i
j
k
l
m
mafia/gang
magic
n
neighbour
non idol
o
p
parent 
pirate
q
r
rich family
roommate
royal
s
social media 
soulmate
spiderman 
sport
spy
street racer
superhero
t
time travel
tutor
u
unrequited love
v
vampire
w
werewolf
x
y
yandere
z
zombie
220 notes · View notes
Text
My Pace (Drabble)
F/M Pairing: Y/N x Hwang Hyujin (SKZ)
Warnings: Smut and Language
Genre: Street Racer AU
Word Count: 2.5K
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Summary: Initially, Y/N only came to the race track because she wanted to keep a close eye on her mischievous little brother, Seungmin. She certainly didn’t expect to catch the attention of one of the racers who seems determined to impress her.
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I loved the rare mornings when the sky was nothing but an endless blue paradise, undisturbed in its picturesque setting. During the Summer, that often precluded long, miserable hot days, but in the Fall, the weather was much more tolerable. It also marked the start of my town’s local racing league, which basically meant that a bunch of high-school and college-aged teens showed up at the abandoned track downtown to race their sports cars.
They could race for hours, swerving dangerously around the curves and accelerating close enough to touch bumpers with the car in front of them. The smell of gasoline and burnt rubber was pervasive, and all the other girls seemed to go crazy. They would scream and cheer for the cars as they zoomed past the stands as if the drivers insider could possibly see their individual faces.
In all honesty, it actually wasn’t so bad, especially when they opened the concession stand booth because I could occupy my time with candy snacks and popcorn. But the only reason I even came to the track was because of my younger brother, Seungmin. If he wanted to sneak out of the house undetected by my parents to race, then I felt the need to follow him and ensure that he kept out of trouble. In such a dangerous and high-risk sport, I only wanted the best for my little brother.
I also knew that it would be impossible to dissuade his passion for racing, so it was best to simply linger around the edges of the track and watch him. Because, for the most part, the other competitors never tried to do anything too outlandish. They obeyed the rules since they couldn’t risk getting kicked out, and some of the older students even invited everyone to bonfire parties after the events. 
But I never went to those parties. I was only at the track to watch over Seungmin, and I trusted him enough to spend the night with Jeongin if he drank too much. You see, Seungmin enjoyed the social aspect of the races just as much as the actual competition, and he had tried to introduce me to his friends. They seemed nice enough, even if I only ever saw them after races with sweat perspiring on their skin, but I wasn’t looking for long-term friendships at the track. Because, at the end of the day, I didn’t share Seungmin’s passion for racing or the sleek model cars with impossibly loud engines.
Of course, that didn’t mean that Seungmin’s friends weren’t also disinterested in my company. Especially Hwang Hyunjin, the tall and lanky 16-year-old who embodied the phrase: “rebel without a cause.” Hyunjin always smoked cheap cigarettes while he waited for his partner-in-crime, Han Jisung, to make repairs under the hood of his Mustang. Apparently, the car was more trouble than it was worth, but Hyunjin had nothing else to race, so he was forced to worry over the engine on a regular basis.
He was very attractive, especially his figure, and I had caught myself staring a time or two when he crawled out from his car after a race. And Hyunjin also had long, blonde-colored hair that he pulled back away from his handsome face, exposing the expanse of his forehead and the proud cheekbones that stood out prominently. He always wore black jeans that were too big for him, and some corny t-shirt that hung limply from his shoulders. He was an irresponsible teen who didn’t seem to care that much for his safety, and he always made an effort to talk to me at the racing events, even though I had tried to make it clear that I wasn’t interested in his conversation.
For example, after one such event, Hyunjin arrogantly posed with his recently won trophy after securing first place yet again, wiping his greasy shirt sleeves against the plaque on the front. He easily found me in the stands, dropping the trophy onto the bleachers next to me before offering his best smile. “Did you see me, Y/N?” Hyunjin asked. “I was six seconds ahead of your brother.”’
“Hmmm?” I replied, entirely disinterested as I scanned through the contents of my phone screen.
“Y/N,” Hyunjin tried again, and he boldly reached out to lower my phone screen and force my attention. “I’m having a party at my place tonight. You’ll come, right?”
I smirked. “I don’t go to those parties, Hyunjin.”
“You don’t?” Hyunjin hesitated, and a decidedly chastened look affected the usual arrogance of the smile that he was clearly forcing. 
I guess that was enough to make me feel a little bad when I thought about Hyunjin’s poor attempts at flirting. “I can maybe come over for an hour.”
Hyunjin immediately brightened, shoulders rising as he cleared his throat and fetched a cigarette from his grease-stained pocket. He held the unlit stick between his teeth. “I’ll see you there.”
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It only took me exactly fifteen minutes to hate the party at Hyunjin’s house.
His parents must never come home very much because Hyunjin didn’t seem to care that his friends were trashing everything, littering the floors with discarded bottles of beer and food wrappers. It was a complete mess, and the music was too loud, thunderous with some kind of generic bass that had me retreating outside to find some fresh air. However, I was surprised to find Hyunjin outside as well, smoking as he looked out into the darkness. “Oh,” I said, drawing his attention. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You’re not,” Hyunjin said with a raspy tone, beckoning me closer with a delicate crook of his fingers. “I needed a break too.”
“It’s your party,” I reminded him, and Hyunjin laughed, running his fingers through his messy hair.
“Yeah,” Hyunjin agreed. “But sometimes it can get crazy with the older kids.”
“I guess you don’t mind that they’re trashing your place?”
“I’ve got people who can clean that for me,” Hyunjin said, but it wasn’t boastful. In fact, there was a hint of resentment in his tone that he quickly banished with a shake of his head. “Hey, you want to see something?” 
I nodded because I had nothing better to do, following him to the back of the house where he messed with a combination panel on the side of the building to reveal the inside of an impressive garage. “Holy shit,” I cursed, surveying the dozens of collector cars decorating the inside. 
“They’re my dads,” Hyunjin said, tossing aside his cigarette before leading me to the first car. “He won’t let me drive them.”
“What’s the point, then?” I asked around a laugh. “I might not know much about cars or racing, but these seem pretty impressive.
“Which one do you like the most?” Hyunjin asked, and I pointed to the cherry-red Corvette. “You have good taste.”
He reached for my hand, and I shivered at the contact, allowing him to pull me closer to the gorgeous model. “He takes good care of them,” I remarked, and I was too afraid to touch the glistening paint.
“You want a closer look?” Hyunjin asked, reaching for the door handle of the passenger side without really waiting for my response.
“Okay,” I said, waiting for Hyunjin to recline the seat before carefully leading me into the back. I laughed at the absurdity of the situation before I lowered my head to accommodate the car’s smaller height, and I made sure to close the door behind us...just in case.
In the meantime, Hyunjin and I crowded together in the backseat, brushing shoulders while he giggled and reached for my hand between us. “This is kinda sexy, right?” he asked, and I scoffed at his claim.
“What do you mean?” I asked, wholly unprepared for the way he moved in closer, making the space between us even smaller.
“You know I like you, Y/N,” Hyunjin said, and I could feel his breath fanning across my face. “I didn’t think I was exactly subtle.”
“No,” I agreed, studying his eyes and the fascinating way they seemed to reflect the light from the garage. “But you know I only show up for my brother.”
Hyunjin sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before coming to a realization. “That doesn’t mean you can’t like it.”
His lips hovered against mine, almost teasingly, like he was testing his limits. “Hyunjin...”
He silenced me with a gentle kiss, and Hyunjin tasted like cigarettes and alcohol, but I ignored the combination as I allowed him to lick inside my mouth. It was actually really good, and he knew exactly what he was doing, pulling back only to reclaim my lips again before I could question whether or not this was a good idea. “Y/N,” he eventually whispered, looking at me with lust-filled eyes. “Please.”
I traced the swollen purse of my bottom lip before nodding, allowing him to pull me into his lap as our kisses grew feverish. It felt like there were fireworks going off all around us, electrifying the air and blinding my senses. But I was enraptured with the feeling of Hyunjin’s touches, and I started to trail my hands underneath his shirt, surprised when my fingers ran across the hard lines of his abdomen.
Oh, so there was muscle underneath those baggy clothes. 
“Turn around,” he whispered, and he helped me carefully maneuver myself in our limited space. It was difficult, but Hyunjin pulled me against his chest, adjusting our positions so that his hand could crawl its way under the waistband of my shorts. 
I whimpered when I felt his fingers tease the edge of my panties, and his other hand directed my chin to the side so that he could distract me with another kiss. It was a distraction that proved worthwhile, and I became lost in the hypnotic feel of his lips while his fingers started to part the folds of my labia, prodding at the entrance of my wet pussy.
I gasped into our kiss, stroking his tongue with messy movements while he started to thumb across my clitoris, providing the perfect stimulation in addition to the slow penetration of his fingers. “So beautiful,” he remarked, looking at me with hooded eyes, and I could see the way the muscle in his arm started to flex as he scissored his fingers against the sensitive walls of my pussy.
“Hyunjin,” I tried again, trying to fight the heavy fog weighing down on my shoulders as I relaxed further into his touches, allowing him to support me against his chest while his sinful fingers continued their work on pleasuring me. The squelching sounds becoming loud and downright vulgar in the narrow space of the car’s backseat.
“What a dirty girl, Y/N,” Hyunjin remarked, and he was suddenly moving faster, sliding his fingers through my juices while flicking his thumb across my throbbing clitoris. He handled me with such skill, and I was turned on beyond belief as I fell apart on his fingers, chasing his lips for more kisses as my hips started kicking in time to his rapid thrusts.
I swallowed around a moan when the heat became unbearable, and my legs started to shake, fighting to close against the intrusion of his fingers. I could feel myself teetering on the precipice, closing my eyes to savor the pleasurable ache building in my lower abdomen, muscles clenching tightly as I exhaled around the sudden and explosive release. I cried loudly as a result, chasing the fiery waves of my orgasm while Hyunjin removed his hand, bringing his fingers to his lips to lick over the evidence of my arousal.
I shivered at the sight before I reached behind me, squeezing his cock through the loose material of his pants. Meanwhile, Hyunjin removed his fingers from his mouth, turning his gaze to my hand as it gave his cock some much-needed attention. Eventually, I grew frustrated with the barrier of his pants, turning around in the narrow space to support myself on my knees as I helped him tug down his jeans and boxers. Immediately, his cock sprung free from the restrictive material, standing proudly against his stomach. 
And I was practically salivating, tracing one finger against the head of his cock and watching as he jerked in response. “Y/N,” Hyunjin whined, and I allowed my hand to enclose itself around his erection, squeezing at the base because it seemed to drive him insane. And I tugged at him with lazy movements, studying the way his head fell back against the window, breaths coming out in harsh pants that continued to fog up the glass surrounding us. 
When I pulled my hand away, Hyunjin opened his eyes, looking at me desperately as I spread out my legs and lowered myself to meet his cock at eye-level. He understood my intentions, lacing his fingers through my hair as his hips practically jumped in my face. I stilled them with a glare, swallowing hard as I allowed my tongue to trace across his narrow slit, following the little beads of precum that had gathered at the tip.
Hyunjin exhaled harshly, fidgeting around as he fought to keep himself in place, and I ended his torment by opening my mouth and taking him inside the wet cavern. He moaned with delight at the sensation, brushing my bangs out of my eyes as I took him even deeper, deciding that the taste of his precum was preferable to the alcohol and cigarettes from earlier.
I wasn’t that experienced with sucking cock, but I knew the basics, and Hyunjin seemed to be enjoying my efforts. Huffing around little whines as he begged me for more. And I was willing to give him everything, hollowing my cheeks as I felt the tip of his cock touch the back of my throat, forcing me to gag around his erection. “Do that again!” Hyunjin said, and I complied with his request, deep throating him until I couldn’t breathe before pulling off and using my hand to tug at his foreskin.
He was incredibly soft to the touch, and I could tell that he was close, hips practically humping against my fingers. I smiled at the sight of Hyunjin because he looked totally wrecked and ruined, but I still wanted to know what he looked like when I took him completely apart. So, I returned my lips to his cock, swallowing him down around a moan. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” Hyunjin chanted, like it was his life’s mantra, forcing his cock down further as I tried to relax the muscles in my throat.
Tears were falling from the corners of my eyes, and my jaw was starting to ache from his girth. Still, I managed to persevere, and I heard his warning just before I tasted his cum on my tongue as he released down my throat. I swallowed hard to force it down, groaning as his taste lingered on my tongue. Afterward, Hyunjin sighed in relief, wiping the sweat from his brow as he petted at my cheeks with gentle fingers. I looked up at him as I pulled back from his cock, and the flaccid length fell between us as I leaned forward to kiss Hyunjin again, struggling to find purchase on his chest.
“Thank you,” I finally managed, meeting his intense gaze as he grabbed my face between his hands to press his lips against the tear-stained tracks falling down my cheeks.
“You’re so good, Y/N,” Hyunjin said, and he pulled me closer into a necessary embrace, and I savored the warmth from his chest as we both came down from our highs.
I guess the next time I came to the track, I would be sure to look for Hyunjin.
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starlost-mochi-x · 1 month
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the fast lane : part 1 (bangchan x reader x felix)
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Summary: Welcome to the world of underground street racing. Chan is known for his flashy cars and confident attitude. You're new to the racing scene, eager but inexperienced. Felix is known for his sneaky tactics and charming demeanour. What happens when all three of your worlds collide?
Warnings: not much tbh, skz racer!au, illegal street racing, chan is a cocky little shit, wc 2.5k
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part 1 : the deal
The tunnel looked pretty unassuming; a round, gaping entrance that was once a pathway for trains to cross through. A hardly-used staircase leading down into a dirty subway and a copse of half dead trees sandwiched the tunnel of either side. Y/n dragged a finger across the cement wall, a trail of dirt and grime collecting on her fingertip. Wrinkling her nose in disgust, she stepped back and surveyed the deserted entrance with a disdainful, skeptical eye.
The mouth of the tunnel was haphazardly littered with graffiti tags, long, sweeping, unintelligible strokes in varying shades of neon blue and green. Y/n's eyes swept across the letters and symbols, following the shapes and curves. Perhaps it was a message, or a warning. Stepping back and then peering into the darkness past the tunnel, Y/n sighed.
it felt more like a warning.
She hopped up and down on the spot and rubbed her arms. The night was cold and the air was frigid; Y/n's breath puffed out in front of her in a frozen mist, like dragon steam. She had no idea why she had decided to come here, and that too in the dead of night. Despite her passion for racing and her love of cars, she'd never raced in any official competitions, simply settling for a few high-speed laps round the city streets at night. But now, here she stood, at the entrance to an underground racing circuit, about to race alongside some of the city's most infamous racers.
Groaning inwardly and pulling out her phone, Y/n swiped to her socials and pulled up the details of the racing grounds. Checking the list of racers and seeing her name near the bottom, she huffed. There was no way she could back out now.
Gathering all her courage, Y/n stepped forward, her black boots meeting the dusty, cracked cement. The ground was scattered with cigarette butts and various other discarded items. She bit her lip and continued into the dark.
The neon, flickering electricity of the city faded away, leaving Y/n to walk through the seemingly endless darkness. Trailing one hand along the wall as she walked, Y/n felt her way to the other end of the tunnel. The details of the race had said to enter the tunnel without using flashlights, torches, or other sources of light. Y/n wondered why, and her jaw clenched as she realised it was probably to keep the police off the tracks of the races. She hadn't noticed any security cameras around the area before she'd gone in; but she couldn't shake the feeling that what she was doing was not really something she wanted to be legally confronted about.
A metallic clattering noise shook her out of her worries. Looking down and realising it was useless trying to see in the dark, Y/n bent down cautiously, hand scrabbling around on the cement, before making contact with a metal energy drink can. Chiding herself for her timidness, she walked on, slow and watchful, eyes straining.
The dark continued seemingly forever; each step she took brought a small haze of light to the end of the tunnel, then faded away. Her eyes ached with the strain of trying to see in pitch black. A small seed of panic took a firm grip on her insides, common sense returning from its brief vacation.
This is it, she thought. I'm going to be lost in the void forever.
Y/n closed her eyes, willing herself to think straight. It didn't matter whether her eyes were open or not; the dark was the same. Choking, suffocating, endless. Her fingertips on her right hand hurt from the roughness of the cement, bumps and cracks sending shockwaves of tittering trepidation through her. Her other hand was clenched tightly into a fist.
The wall beneath Y/n's fingertips suddenly disappeared, the cold air enveloping her slender hand once again. The stuffiness of the tunnel had disappeared, and Y/n tentatively opened her eyes, blinking to adjust them to the light. A surge of cold, crisp air filled her lungs with a low whoosh.
Noise.
Colour.
Light.
Y/n's eyes widened. She was standing at the entrance to a colossal circular arena. Rows of metal-backed bleachers rose in towering, circular rings around the main ground area. A large, winding race track, lined by colour-changing lights wound through the low stadium, disappearing somewhere near the back entrance; a tunnel. Turning back suddenly, Y/n stared through the darkness of the tunnel she'd juts come through. Two streets back, she would never had known any of this was here. Judging by how packed the place was, Y/n would have estimated half the city knew this racing circuit existed. It wasn't underground, per se, but it was a spectacle nonetheless. She'd never seen anything like it.
Several cars flew round the circuit, sending a whoosh of cool, petrol-smelling air into Y/n's face. She began to venture forward, and caught a glimpse of a sleek, red car speeding effortlessly around the racetrack; drifting perfectly around the turns and sending the high-pitched sound of zooming and screeching into the air. Six massive floodlights sent glaring white light flashing and reflecting off he vibrant, decorated surface of the cars and bleacher railings.
Surveying the arena with a look of stupid, dazed, disbelief, Y/n noticed a row of shiny, funky cars on a raised platform lining the right side of the amphitheatre. A throng of people were pushing against the guard rail, cheering loudly. Craning her neck to get a better look, Y/n began pushing her way through the crowd, making her way slowly but surely to the platform. The prominent beats of Japanese hip-hop music, the squeal of tires on asphalt, and the constant, excited chatter of the crowd surrounded Y/n like a fog. The excitement and passion in the air was contagious, though it was tinted with the lingering fumes of danger, risk-taking, spray-paint, and exhaust smoke.
It wasn't just the cars that were colorful; the crowd themselves sported an array of different outfits and appearances. Y/n passed by a man with a bright pink and yellow hairdo, silky waves falling into his face as two girls in neon green clung to his arm. Another had an orange LED light mask on, flashing smiley faces and heart eyes as he sold various items of racing paraphernalia to the tightly packed crowd.
But it wasn't hard to distinguish the racers themselves; they were dressed in sleek leather suits of varying colours, sponsors and supporter logos printed across their breast pockets and backs. Many of them carried helmets under the arms, and Y/n spotted a particular racer, who upon stepping out of a bright purple car, tossed his helmet and jacket to a teenage boy dressed in red. The boy fumbled to catch the items and hurriedly followed after the racer, a bit like a puppy following its owner.
It made sense to her that some of the racecar drivers had their own personal crews. Y/n knew that it was incredibly expensive to hire people for services like engineering, having spent almost half her savings on a three-person maintenance crew for the car she was to race tonight. Custom cars and suits must have been expensive enough as it was without the addition of pit crews and maintenance engineers. The people themselves were expensive, but not in a snobby, regal way. These people had the grime of the streets under their nails and hard work etched into the creases of their eyes. Y/n felt a strange sense of admiration and inspiration settle in her chest.
Finally making her way to the guard rail before the raised platform, Y/n looked past the racers and their cars, ignoring the cheering. She had eyes like a hawk's, and they landed nimbly on a roll-up garage door, which most likely led to the backstage area for the cars, and the private rooms for the racers. Thinking back to the instructions on her phone, Y/n began to move through the crowd to the door. That was where she would find her car to race tonight.
Her crew manager had sent her a photo of it; it was battered and a little rusty, but Y/n had faith in her abilities. She was going to race, and win. And if she wasn't going to win, she was going to place third at the very least. This is what you wanted, she reminded herself determinedly. Don't let anything get in your way. You're going to become a racer, one of the best street racers in this city, and-
Y/n smacked headlong into a wall of something tall and warm. Letting out an unceremonious oof, she stepped back, rubbing her forehead. Her boot caught on a stray crack in the asphalt and she tumbled backwards, landing with a thud on her ass. A low, amused chuckle came from above her.
"Should watch where you're going, sweetheart."
Squinting upwards, and huffing (half in embarrassment, half in pain- her ass really hurt...) Y/n blinked up at the obstruction that she'd run into.
A really hot obstruction.
An obstruction dressed in a racing suit of black and red leather, and with dark hair swept back over his forehead. Several strands hung down, striping his forehead, slick with sweat. He held a large, veiny hand out to her. Y/n noticed a thick, silver chain encircling his wrist.
Suddenly realising that she looked like an idiot, and was probably staring, she reached for the man's hand. It was surprisingly warm, and he was surprisingly strong; he hoisted her onto his feet without much effort. Dusting herself off and trying not to wince at the pain in her tailbone, Y/n looked up at him.
He was a little taller than she was, with sharp, angular features dripping with charming appeal. Dark eyeshadow dusted the edges of his eyes, and a neat slit ran through his left eyebrow. His hair was black as night, sheened in blue and white shades with the glinting cars and the floodlights above. His plump, pink lips curved into a smirk as he let go of her hand. Y/n hadn't even realised he'd been holding it. Her heart leapt in her chest.
"This isn't a place for little girls."
His voice was deep, rich and accented; Australian, maybe? She couldn't tell. Frowning up at him, she fired back.
"I'm not a little girl. I'm a racer."
The man leaned the wall, heavy boots tapping against the asphalt. He grinned wolfishly. "No?"
Y/n pursed her lips. "I came here to race. I'm one of the rookies listed for tonight," her voice faded off slightly at the end, a little unsure. Should she really be telling this super hot guy who she was and what she was doing?
But he only smirked again, exhaling a chuckle through his nose.
"Do you know who I am, sweetheart?"
Y/n bit her lip. She didn't.
"No," she said truthfully. Realigning her moral compass, she straightened her back and glared at him. "And don't call me that."
He sighed and stepped forwards, hands clasped behind his back. He began to advance towards her; Y/n stumbled back. Her foot met a step of some sort and she kept retreating anyway, not wanting to take her eyes off him. His gaze sent a chill of sudden fear through her. He was looking at her as if she were a particularly helpless animal he was about to pounce on.
Y/n gulped. A rush of fear, adrenaline... and something else.
The sudden feeling of cool metal meeting her lower back made Y/n stop in her tracks. Glancing sideways, she realised she'd been backed up against the man's car; though she was afraid, she couldn't help but notice how sleek and beautiful the car was, a shiny black body with wings, and red stripes lining the sides.
Attempting to move sideways, Y/n ran her hand along the low window frame, feeling her way around. The man noticed and placed his forearms on the car either side of her, caging her in. His fingers curled around her wrists, squeezing lightly. He leaned in, smelling of something woodsy and spicy. The boy-smell of gunmetal, leather, and smoke filled her nostrils, an intoxicating yet subtle wave of fumes. She fought the urge to inhale deeply, instead looking the man right in the eyes. Which was difficult.
"Leave me alone," she stuttered, cursing herself inwardly.
He chuckled again, tilting his head. "I've never seen you here before. One of the rookies, huh? They don't tend to fare well in the racing scene. Most quit after the first race. But maybe you're different, sweetheart."
Y/n glared at him, suddenly feeling brazen. Perhaps it was the adrenaline coursing through her veins, but she rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Do you usually pin girls to your car without introducing yourself, or is this a one-time thing? Because I'd very much like you to let go of me."
His eyebrows shot up into his hairline. A cocky smirk lifted one corner of his mouth.
"I'm Bang Christopher Chan. One of the best racers in the underground circuits, and the best in this city. I know this place like the back of my hand, but I didn't know a sassy princess would be the one standing in my way tonight," he grinned, almost devilishly. "and your name is..?"
"Y/n," she replied, not sure what else to say. She ignored the compliment, feigning an unimpressed expression.
Chan chuckled, a deep, breathy sound. "Well, Y/n, let's see how you race tonight. Shall we make a deal?"
Y/n tilted her head, raising her eyebrows. "Oh?"
Chan's eyes darken competitively. "Let's see if you're made of the real stuff. You beat me in the next race, and I'll get you a car. Whichever model you want."
Y/n's jaw dropped slightly. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What's the catch?"
Chan lifted a calloused fingertip and ran it along the side of her jaw unexpectedly, seemingly admiring her features. "No catch. I'd like to see what you're made of. Unless you're scared?"
Y/n scowled before contemplating the offer. If she wanted this, she needed a proper car. And she didn't have the money to buy one yet. Taking Chan's offer, winning the race, and getting a car of her choice would be a massive help. But she still felt skeptical.
"Why are you doing this?"
Chan smirked. "Not sure. I'm not usually this nice. Look, the next race starts in 20 minutes. Is it a yes or no to the deal, princess?"
Silence. Chan let go of her wrists, holding out his right hand to shake. Y/n slowly lifted her hand, placing it in his. The heat from his hand rushed up her arm and into her bloodstream, and the cool metal of his chain link bracelet brushed her fingertips, making her shudder in a haze of delicious heat and ice. Pulling her hand back, she gazed determinedly at Chan, who only smirked, inclining his head.
"You're on."
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a/n: whew! likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated. lmk what you guys think of the first chapter!
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huenjin · 4 years
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hey there rue bb!!!! how have you been???? i hope you're getting some rest and eating and drinking well!!!
im in the middle of a history class and i read your post abt sending fic titles and fic summary and i thought id give it a shot!!!!!!!
as for the fic titles,,,, im not v good at making titles for stuff i write as well but
i have been listening to the cab's vegas skies on repeat lately until 4 am so....
maybe "between goodnights and goodbyes"????
or "to goodnights and goodbyes"???
and for the fic summary,,,
this is something i could never get out of my head
a streetracer au!!!!!! a streetracer au with smut and with heavy angst but with a fluff ending and
idk changbin is my bias but jeongin seems like someone who would fit that role so so well!!!!
he looks like someone who would enjoy racing aaaaaa and like he'd be that racer most of the boys (yes, streetracer!changbin, streetracer!hyunjin, streetracer!bangchan) would look up to bec despite entering the tracks at an early age hes just,,, god-given good at racing????
hes from a well-off family but they deprive him of the love he deserves and racing fills that void for him;;; he loves the risk and he loves how the fire inside him keeps him going even though you tell him not to drive bec he could get hurt considering that nothings a hundred percent sure
but he loves it
and it keeps him alive
and it makes him happy
so, so happy
so you always say yes to all of his races with a heavy heart but
you always find some sort of peace when mechanic!seungmin who is jeongin's bestfriend reassures you that jeongin always wins his races though the thought of jeongin getting hurt still couldnt let you sleep well at night unless hes snoring right beside you on his bed.
aside from racing and his friends, youre the only one who keeps him ground and you just,,, see a side of that boy when no one else is around??? when hes sad he cries on your shoulder, and falls asleep on your chest when hes exhausted,, acts cute to make you allow him to attend two more races despite your rule of limiting racing to only once a week,,,
idk,,
i love him so much - ☀️
this is beautiful. idk if you came across me just from this stray kids blog or if you shifted blogs with me when i shifted from bts fandom to skz, but there was this one fic — throttle, a jjk one — that is so close to this and yet not and it's one of the prettiest fics i have ever written because it's a soulmate!au, street racer!au. i do intend to write one for changbin (for parallel lines au that i should get started but will probably not because you know the usual chant — academics) but rest assured, if i do write a street racer!au you all will love it because it's one of my favorite genres to write about.
but let's just pause, take a minute and think about how hot street racer!jeongin would be.
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darkfaeskz · 4 years
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- 〰 - 〰 - 〰 - 〰 -
1st Teaser
“I know you’re not supposed to be here but…would you like me to show you around?”
Stray Kids Faery Chatbot [coming soon]
- 〰 - 〰 - 〰 - 〰 -
:og credits: @yandereminholee​ [Thank you for starting the chatbot trend and keeping up!]
:main insp: @ghost-hyunjin​ @babyhj1sung​ @yandereskz​ @skzhotline​ [Hope you all don’t mind I picked some ideas, thank you for the inspiration!]
:sp thnx: @chatbot-assistant​ @ghost-hyunjin​ @babyhj1sung​ [Thank you for your sincere advice!]
:tags: @yourdemonkoo @royalxstraykids @chatbotsupportofficial @peachyminju @your-roseanne @badlands-ryujin @criminalinvestigator-mingyu @dom-minho @leeknow-minho-cb @7deadlysins-chan @vampireskzz @kitten-yeji @prxnce-hendery @straykids-aus @deadly-skz-gods-cb @lixielee-chatbot @street-racer-hyunjin @moonlightchn @mafia-chrisbang @mafia-chaeyoung @vampirechangbinnie @amazingspiderhan @chatwithchuu @spidersakura @spidergwenyuna @blackwidowjennie @iron-winwin @rocket-sana @antmanhobi @androidryujin @yourcaptainchan @winterxchungha @scarletrenjun @starlordhwang @ironman-yuto @mafia-minho @yourchungha @angelboysan @xdomkangseulgixx @yandere-hongjoong @dom-felix @fatherfigure-jin @subbyhyunjinchatbot @puppy-yoongie [DM me to be added, add anyone else or to be removed!]
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starlost-mochi-x · 20 days
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the fast lane : part 3 (bangchan x reader x felix)
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Summary: Welcome to the world of underground street racing. Chan is known for his flashy cars and confident attitude. You're new to the racing scene, eager but inexperienced. Felix is known for his sneaky tactics and charming demeanour. What happens when all three of your worlds collide?
Warnings: skz racer!au, fluff, soft minho, brief mention of a past injury (read part two for context if you haven't already) reader gets tangled up in a mess, angsty chan and minho wc 3.2 k
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part 3 : porcelain and gold
Y/n groaned for the millionth time, banging her forehead on the wheel. Her hands clenched the cool leather beneath her fingertips and she let out a heaving sigh, squeezing her eyes shut.
The arena was bright and silent, glaring floodlights casting an almost blinding glow onto the lined up cars. The road was cool and damp, fresh from the light rain. The sky was murky with early-morning fog, shades of yellow and orange peeking out from behind the clouds. Y/n could distantly hear birdsong and the noise of the city upstreet, but right now, everything was quiet. Racing on the empty track, devoid of any obstacles or cars reassured Y/n a little, and she knew that if she made a mistake, nothing too bad would happen. But she still felt tense.
Sighing and starting the car again, she drove to the side tarmac, rolling down the window and cutting the revving engine.
Minho leaned down, forearms resting on the window frame. He tilted his head and pressed a couple fingers lightly into her shoulder, firm but gentle. Y/n looked up.
"That was better," he said quietly, nodding.
Y/n sighed, defeated. "It's not good enough-"
Minho interrupted, "Do you think I would have offered to get up this fucking early to train you for no reason? No. You're doing well, okay? It's just the turns that you need to work on."
Y/n bit her lip, fighting the rising pit of anxiety in her stomach. Opening the door, she stepped out and leaned against the cool surface of the car, trying to slow her breathing. Minho said nothing, simply letting her recuperate. When Y/n finally opened her eyes, she looked straight up at the man standing in front of her, eyes tired but sincere.
"I really do appreciate this, Minho, but I don't feel that I'm getting any better. It just feels like I'm going in circles."
Minho blinked. "You are going in circles. That's the whole point."
Y/n's mouth lifted up at the corners and she chuckled, punching the man lightly on the shoulder. He grinned and leaned against the car- his car- next to her.
Y/n had decided to take a couple days' break from racing, instead focusing on getting back to 100 percent. The cut in her neck had healed slowly, leaving her with nothing but a small, white scar on her nape. Her head felt better too, no longer bruised or sore. Since the street races ran almost every night, Y/n had decided to go back a couple days after the night when Minho had dropped her home.
She'd found him lurking around the backstage arena, watching the races. He had looked up in surprise, barely-masked, thankful relief, and something else. Some glint in his eyes that Y/n couldn't quite pinpoint. He'd unexpectedly smiled when Y/n had walked up to him and shyly proffered him a lollipop, exactly like the one he'd been sucking on the night she hit her head. Y/n remembered the way he'd almost immediately stuffed it in his mouth, smiling around the thin, white stick.
You'd both spent the night up in the arena stands, out of the light and out of the other racers' sight. Just quietly observing, testing the waters around each other. Y/n had felt tense at being in such close proximity with him, but it had slowly melted away over the next few hours.
Minho was actually quite funny. In a sadistic, sarcastic way, but Y/n adored it nonetheless. He was quiet and intellectual, but ambitious and unafraid. He was a contradiction in all of the best ways.
She'd continued visiting him at the arena most nights, and you would both often end up in the stands, talking into the early hours of the morning about various things. But as much as they talked, Y/n continued to feel as if she didn't know much about him at all. Minho had a way of dodging questions smoothly and turning them on her, often so seamlessly that she didn't even realise until she replayed her interactions with him in her mind later on.
This little routine of visiting had continued for about a week and a half, and Y/n was simply content to keep it that way. But Minho had other ideas, telling her one night that she'd benefit from training instead of just winging her races. Y/n had denied it, retorting with the fact that she had no one to teach her. She'd thought about asking Chan, but she didn't trust him at all, and besides, he seemed to be too busy working on or fixing his car, racing (and winning, unfortunately), and flirting with the pretty women fawning over his racecar. She had told Minho about the ordeal with Chan the first night they'd met, and how cocky he was. Minho had simply nodded.
"We used to be close friends," he'd told her. "But we don't talk anymore."
Then he'd changed the subject.
Used to be. Y/n wondered if something had happened between them. Did they fall out? Did they decide not to talk anymore for some unknown reason? Or did they both just choose their separate pathways and slowly lose their connection with each other?
Y/n wanted so badly to ask Minho about what had happened, but it felt wrong, almost demanding. Seeing as he had been so kind to her, Y/n felt that it was rude to ask him something so personal, even if she wasn't sure why he had decided to befriend her in the first place. And if she was being honest, Y/n also felt that he wasn't really the kind of person who would welcome such a personal question with an open heart and mindset.
She also wasn't really sure if she and Minho were friends. Sure, he was nice and all, but could she really trust him? What if he was just like Chan? What could he possibly be trying to achieve by befriending her?
No, Y/n shook her head. He wasn't like that, she was sure of it.
Said man's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. Blinking up at him, she stopped dead in her tracks. She'd been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't even realised they'd left the arena.
They were standing in front of a little cafe. Y/n recognised it briefly, realising she'd passed it so many times before during her walks to the arena. She'd never stopped to look at it. It was quite pretty, and-
Minho flicked her forehead.
"Ow," she whined, hands pressing over the sore spot. "What'd you do that for? And why are we here-"
Minho rolled his eyes. "Well, I flicked your forehead because you've been in your head all day. You didn't even realise when we left the arena. I'm not sure you even knew that you were walking. And secondly, I'm hungry and this place has good food. Come on."
He took her hand and tugged her inside, the little bell above the shop door tingling. He led her to a little table booth in the far corner, pushing her lightly to sit down. It was a light push but Minho's standards, but Y/n knew that sometimes he forgot his own considerable strength and she almost stumbled, landing on the cushioned booth seat with an oof. Minho disappeared for a few minutes and Y/n realised he'd gone to the front to get something to eat. She hadn't brought money with her to buy anything, but she wasn't really hungry, so she sat back and looked out the window, waiting for him to return.
The cafe was modern but cute, boho-chic furnishings making up the majority of the wooden tables and chairs. The rest of the tables and chairs were white, and it all contrasted nicely against the various, lush, potted plants spilling their vines and leaves down wooden, high-set shelves. The counter up the front had a display glass lining its expanse, and behind it were stocked all sorts of pastries and other food. The place was pretty much empty and Y/n wondered why before realising that it was extremely early. Not even caffeine-lovers came down to buy their daily coffee this early. The lights were off, and there was no need for them to be on, since the sunlight spilling into the cafe from the large windows illuminated everything in a soft, golden glow. Y/n began to feel sleepy.
Minho walked up, holding two mugs and a slice of cheesecake on a pretty silver tray. He set it down and pushed one of the mugs towards her. The rich scent of vanilla and cinnamon wafted into her face, filling her lungs with a pleasantly soft, warm, and spicy aroma. She inhaled deeply before looking up at Minho questioningly.
"Is this for me?" she said quietly, almost hesitantly.
He took a big gulp from his own mug before setting it down and inclining his head. "Yeah."
Y/n felt a warm flush tingle on her cheeks. "You didn't have to, Minho."
He rolled his eyes and took another gulp from the mug. "You're right, I didn't have to, but I wanted to. But if you don't want it, feel free to starve," he took one of the forks from the tray and cut the cheesecake slice into two halves, putting one on his tea plate and pushing the other half towards her. Y/n smiled.
"Cheesecake?"
Minho nodded. "Mmm. My friend loves it. I always order it when I come here. Reminds me of him."
Y/n smiled sincerely, staying quiet. She filed away this unexpected piece of personal information into a hidden chamber of her heart. The last thing she wanted to do was scare him into closing up again, and she nodded her head in acknowledgement before taking a sip from her mug.
The sweet, intoxicating heat of vanilla foam and the spicy, gingerbread-like taste of cinnamon flooded her body and she sagged back into the booth seat.
"Oh," she groaned. "This is so good..."
She heard Minho chuckle. Feeling a little bolder, she sat upright again and glanced at him curiously. He was dressed in black leather, a dark grey hoodie under his leather jacket. She could hear his combat boots absentmindedly tapping on the floor. His hair shone a lighter purplish-brown under the sunlight spilling onto the table, and his eyes were lightened to a honey brown. Y/n noticed his hands fiddling with the handle of his mug, the fingertips running up and down the smooth, ceramic surface. Y/n wondered if he was nervous, or perhaps upset about something.
"Min, are you okay?" she asked gently and quietly.
"Hmm? Yeah, sorry," he blinked at her, as if he'd snapped out of a daze. Y/n felt a knot of worry settle in the pit of her stomach, and feeling brazen, she reached out and placed a slender, much smaller hand over his. Heat from his hand flooded into hers.
Minho looked up in surprise, his fidgeting stopping. They locked eyes for a moment before Y/n pulled her hand away slowly, unsure of his reaction. She kicked herself mentally, worried she'd overstepped a boundary.
To Y/n's surprise, he chuckled. He didn't move his hand or snap at her like she had expected him to. He looked her right in the eyes, and Y/n swore for a second that there was a flash of gratefulness in his gaze. Y/n's palm froze and she smiled back, almost uncertainly.
Then, to complete this entirely unlikely scenario, Minho took her hand, calloused fingertips brushing her wrist, and placed it between his palms. Again, he was firm and gentle; not too much force, nor too little. Simply steady and reassuring.
Heat flooded Y/n's cheeks. She hadn't expected that he would be so open to her affection. He noticed her scarlet cheeks and smirked, his voice coming a little lower than before.
"You called me Min."
Y/n squeaked in embarrassment and looked away, flushing. She attempted to pull her hand out of his grip, but he was unrelenting.
"It-it was just a heat of the moment thing," she stuttered.
Minho laughed, the sound light like the foam in her mug. "Heat of the moment? Are you sure that's the phrase you were going for?"
"Shut up."
Minho chuckled before settling back into the booth seat. "It's fine, by the way."
"What is?"
He huffed a little. "I don't mind you calling me Min. But not in a sappy, lovey-dovey way, got it?"
Y/n lifted her mug to her mouth in order to hide her smile.
-
Minho opened the door to the passenger seat of his racecar, slamming the door shut. He didn't bother putting his seatbelt on, and Y/n chided him before revving the engine and speeding off. They'd returned to the arena after spending almost two and a half hours in the cafe, both of them having been too caught up in their animated conversation to notice the time passing by.
The arena was still empty, and the afternoon sun shone high in the sky. The floodlights hadn't turned on yet, and it was the sun that caught the sleek angles and edges of Minho's car as Y/n steered it around the arena track. Her hands gripped the smooth leather of the wheel and her feet danced across the pedals as Minho instructed her through the turns.
"Good, that's it- turn a little more, angle the car."
Y/n did as he said, fingers digging into the steering wheel as she sped up and executed the turn perfectly.
Minho let out a whoop of triumph and Y/n laughed in disbelief, pulling the car to the side of the track. She stumbled out and so did Minho, who swooped her up in a sudden, unexpected hug.
"Took you long enough," he said, grinning. He set her back down onto the tarmac, cheeks flushed. Whether it was in exhilaration or something else, Y/n didn't know. She was too happy to care.
The laughter died down and Y/n gazed up at Minho, his dark eyes locking with her own. They both stood there, Minho's arms encircling Y/n's waist where he'd lifted her, and her arms clutching his broad shoulders where she'd held on. He looked so pretty, the sun smoothing all his features into ivory porcelain and molten gold. Y/n saw his cheek tuck in slightly, like he was biting the inside of it. He leaned down slightly, and opened his mouth to say something, a slight flash of guilt flickering in his eyes, and then-
"What a performance."
Y/n and Minho both jerked their hands off each other like they'd been caught doing something wrong.
Chan was walking across the tarmac towards them. He was clapping slowly and the sound echoed throughout the arena, causing an unpleasant chill to run down Y/n's spine. One of Minho's hands was still on her waist and she felt it tighten infinitesimally around her hip.
Chan reached them, smirking. He had put his hands into the pockets of his racing suit, the same black and red one he'd worn the night Y/n had met him. This time, she disliked him even more.
Chan's smile faded as his eyes flitted to Minho. Y/n glanced up at her friend just as his hand dropped from her waist. He looked suddenly pale.
"Minho?" she said hesitantly. But he didn't seem to hear, his eyes fixed on the racer. Y/n saw the lines of his shoulders tense just as Chan spoke.
"I didn't think you'd have the guts to show up here, Minho," his voice was cool and calm, yet tinted with an undertone of menace.
"I've been here spectating most nights."
"I know," Chan's voice lowered. "I meant here. On the tracks. You know, after..."
Y/n heard Minho suck in a breath.
Chan was seemingly oblivious to the tense atmosphere. Stepping closer to Minho, he looked him dead in the eyes. Y/n swore she could have cut the tension in the air with a knife. She stumbled back unsurely as Chan's shoulder nudged her as he passed. He was so close to Minho, so close that Y/n could see that there was only a few centimeters worth of space between them. She could see Chan trembling and she took another step back, unsure if they were about to fight, or worse.
Minho had gone as still as a statue, and Y/n could see the cracks appearing in his nonchalant facade. Chan was still too, but in an entirely different way. Where Minho was tense, Chan was shaking.
Like he was holding back.
Y/n heard a string of unfamiliar, garbled words come out of Chan's mouth and she shook her head a little, frowning, before she realised Chan was speaking a different language. It sounded Japanese, Korean maybe? She wasn't sure. A wave of guilt washed over her. They clearly did not want her to understand, or become a part of whatever it was they were fighting over. It didn't look much like a fight, nor a disagreement. Y/n had no clue what it was, but she knew it was something serious.
Chan spoke again, this time with a hint of venom in his tone. Even though she couldn't understand what he was saying, she could clearly tell he was blaming Minho for something. Minho looked like he was about to cry, or run away, or hit Chan. Or all three.
With a final spit of venom-laced Korean, Chan turned and stormed away, not sparing Y/n a second glance. She stumbled a step back, feeling a nauseous mix of guilt, anger at Chan, worry for Minho, shameful curiousness at both, and more than all of that, fear. Taking a second to come to herself, she turned to her friend, unsure of whether to speak. The sun had set, and Minho's features were no longer ivory and molten gold. The dawning twilight had hardened his face into a mask of cracked stone, the haphazard gaps run through with dripping silvery gunmetal. Y/n realised with a startled confusion that he was crying.
What had Chan said to him, she wondered. Turning back to the direction Chan had stormed off in, she bit her lip, trying to decide between consoling her friend and asking the other clearly angry racer if he was okay. She disliked Chan, but the stark deviation from his cocky, ambitious, flirty demeanor to the solemn, almost devastated expression he'd held as he spat made Y/n's heartstrings twitch. She couldn't help but feel as if she'd tangled herself up in a much bigger problem, and the fine hair on the back of her neck and her arms stood up at the thought. Her blood began to frost over in her veins, and she felt upset for some reason, like the entire dispute had been her fault. A dull, ugly thud echoed from behind her.
Minho had collapsed to the ground.
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a/n: ooooooohh.....
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starlost-mochi-x · 7 days
Text
the fast lane : part 4 (bangchan x reader x felix)
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Summary: Welcome to the world of underground street racing. Chan is known for his flashy cars and confident attitude. You're new to the racing scene, eager but inexperienced. Felix is known for his sneaky tactics and charming demeanour. What happens when all three of your worlds collide?
Warnings: skz racer!au, fluff, chan cries, reader cries, everyone cries, mention of injuries, brief description of injury, trauma-ma-ma-ma wc 3.9 k
series masterlist
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part 4 : unexpected contact
"Minho, wake up!"
Y/n sank to her knees beside him. Minho's outline was blurred through the haze of Y/n's tears. She placed a hand on his shoulder; it was cold, almost lifeless.
She should call someone- who was she even meant to call? The arena was empty and the sky was beginning to dim in deep gloaming tones. Looking down at Minho again, she shook him uselessly, squeezing his shoulder and pressing her palm pleadingly to his clammy, tearstained face.
"Please, Minho..."
His eyes fluttered but he showed no sign of movement beyond that. His face was so soft and delicate in sleep, eyelashes like a dusting of cocoa against his lids. The chiseled angles of his nose and jaw, the little white scars on the line of his throat and his temples. The perfect porcelain mask was cracked and Y/n tried desperately to piece it together, crying and coaxing and trying with shaking hands to do something, anything.
Nothing was working.
Y/n cupped his face, pressing her forehead to his. Hot, salty tears streamed down her face, dripping onto his cheekbones like tiny rivers of molten gold. She knew in her heart that he'd passed out from the distress. She stroked his hair, deep purplish-brown in the dimming light, and whispered to him sweet nothings she wouldn't remember and he wouldn't hear.
"Min..." she hiccupped, barely able to see through the onslaught of hot tears. "Please wake up."
She had felt two pairs of hands grasping her, ripping her away from Minho like a bandage being ripped off a half-healed wound. Blood pooled in Y/n's footsteps as she was hauled to the backstage area, pushed down onto the couch. She remembered her hands, sweaty with the emotional exertion, slipping against each other as she'd wrung them together, pacing behind the closed door.
She remembered wo people shouting frantically and a muffled groan, boyish and pretty. The slam of a door, weak protests, and then the revving of a car. When she'd finally been let out of the room, he wasn't there.
She remembered being told to go home.
She remembered returning to the arena the next day, and how he hadn't been there.
Or the day after that.
Or the day after that one either.
She remembered showing up six days later, having been told she had been signed up for a race the following Saturday. She'd just smiled weakly as she'd been informed, knowing that Minho had been the one to register her. That information only made her heart ache more as time passed.
She remembered asking around, only to be told that he'd been taken to get medical attention, and that no one knew where he was. She'd cried after that, curling up into a ball against the backstage door, where she'd fallen backwards and met Minho for the first time.
A pair of strong arms had coiled around her, comforting her, though later she couldn't seem to remember who it was. The image danced just out of reach, her memory fogged over by her aching longing and worry.
What if he never returned?
What if he'd collapsed because of what Chan had said?
Or worse, what if he'd-
What if-
Y/n flew bolt upright, gasping and shaking and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. She spasmed for a moment, flailing, before realising where she was.
The tuning shop's lights were off, the sun filling the space through the half-opened garage door. It was wide and spacious, several other cars lined up beside the one Y/n was working on. Minho's car, she reminded herself. It was his. And he'd been grudgingly trusting enough to allow her to keep it.
"I have another I can use," he'd said, refusing to make eye contact as Y/n had thrown her arms around him, squealing.
Her very own car.
Y/n smiled sadly, willing her eyes not to well up as she ran her fingertips along the chrome-green and black satin cast. Exactly like his motorbike, she remembered. He always did like matching items.
The sun cast a golden glow over the cement, reflecting and lighting up the area. The cheerful chattering of birds and the amiable talking of the occasional racers who passed by should have lifted Y/n's spirits.
Strangely enough, it hadn't.
She'd fallen asleep after about an hour of engine adjustments, too exhausted by her racing thoughts and neverending worries to do anything more than idly sit and adjust a miscellaneous bolt. Her fingers and the front of her shirt was stained with engine grease, though she wasn't entirely sure how it'd gotten there.
Y/n sighed and propped herself up against the car, elbows on her knees as she stared quietly out of the garage. She could see the wheels of cars and a little bit of the arena entrance from her. She had no will to be where she was right now, but she was kept in place by a bone-deep, aching tiredness that took a firm grip on every part of her body. She was more than content to sit here for the rest of the day and wallow endlessly in her weeping, abyssal sorrow.
"You gonna sit there all day?" A quiet, somber, accented voice shook her out of the haze of her thoughts. Almost. She was too caught up in her fugue state to even bother turning or acknowledging whoever was at the entrance.
Without looking to see who it was, Y/n let out a tiny, almost inaudible, half-hearted "mm" before relapsing into silence once again.
There was a sigh, then the quiet thudding of boots as whoever it was moved to sit down next to her. The intoxicating scent of a familiar, spicy, woodsy cologne filled her nostrils and she turned hesitantly, the small action unexpectedly taking most of her strength.
Chan gazed back at her, expression hard and solemn.
Y/n blinked, his presence finally registering in the fog of her mind. She opened her mouth, then closed it unsurely, shoulders tensing.
"Why are you here?" she whispered, eyes filling with a fresh wave of tears, though from what emotions or thoughts, she wasn't sure. "I haven't seen you since-"
"I know," he murmured.
There were dark rings around his eyes, and the space under his right eye was slightly red and purple, like he'd bruised the soft skin there. He looked pale and he hadn't bothered to style his hair, the strands falling in soft, thin waves past his forehead. Y/n wondered if he'd been having trouble sleeping, or if he'd slept at all.
Y/n turned her face away to hide the fresh tears streaming down her cheeks like little paths of fire. Her voice was quiet, hesitant, shaky.
"Are you going to shout at me too in whatever language you were spitting at Minho in?" Her voice was bitter, quiet, almost resentful.
Chan didn't reply.
Y/n knew in her heart that she had no right to be truly resentful towards him. After all, she had no clue what had transpired between him and Minho, but she couldn't shake the feeling that Chan had done something terribly, terribly wrong. And, Y/n reasoned with herself, even if he had, there was no reason for him to have snapped at Minho the way he did. Y/n fought the urge to seethe in the racer's face, though he showed no signs of aggression. He simply sat quiet and docile, seemingly reflecting as he watched the dappled sunlight from the garage cast patterns across the cement floor.
"Y/n," he whispered.
It was so faint she almost didn't catch it. Turning her face back towards him, she felt a small wave of surprise overcoming her features at the soft expression of her name. He was clearly struggling to maintain his cold, almost expressionless mask, the facade doing nothing to hide the thinly-veiled distress in his dark eyes. He looked so genuinely upset that Y/n couldn't help but turn her body towards him, tilting her head.
They stared at each other for a few seconds. It felt like ages had passed before Chan spoke, quiet and shaky like the way Y/n herself had spoken only moments before.
"Just- I can't tell you what happened, okay?"
Y/n blinked before an unexpectedly fierce scowl overcame her features, twisting it into a resentful, bitter mask. She recoiled minutely like she was disgusted. She felt disgusted, and she wasn't even sure why.
"Why not? You know, after all, I don't deserve to know why my friend collapsed, or why you yelled at him in the first place, or why you're such a jerk, but you know what, it's fine. It's fine, Chan."
Her voice came out sharp and spiteful, reminiscent of the sound of crashing, shattering glass. A glistening shard flew from her mouth and embedded itself in Chan's chest in a clean, swift swipe. He looked taken aback at the sudden harshness of her tone, looking almost guilty, and the remorseful, stupefied expression on his face was like a dagger to Y/n's heart, a clean, white slice too fresh and painful to fully comprehend.
Y/n knew she was projecting, knew she should hold back since Chan was so clearly distressed, but she couldn't help herself. She couldn't help stepping back hastily when Chan rose to his feet and moved soundlessly towards her, his hands out in front of him like she was a wild, untamed animal he was trying not to spook.
Y/n couldn't help it when she batted his hands away with surprising sharpness, glaring up at him like she was attempting to burn laser holes through his skull. She couldn't help it when Chan swiftly stepped closer, expression desperate like the air of a man who knew he was losing his audience.
Or his sanity.
Or perhaps both. One could never really know nowadays.
What Y/n did know was that she wanted nothing to do with Chan, or what he had done. Not until he had simply just proved to her that he hadn't intended to hurt Minho the way he had. He was Y/n's first real friend, the first person to want to know her, truly as she was. Minho, who wanted Y/n with all her complications, worries, desires.
Minho, who listened to her stories, doing his best to keep up with her even when she got excited and spoke so fast she became dizzy.
Minho, who chided her as he ruffled her hair, his gaze lovingly scolding.
Minho, who had once driven her, a complete stranger home, simply because he was worried for her safety.
Minho who dragged her to the cafe after every practice, who drove her home, every time smelling of cinnamon and vanilla.
Minho, the sadist, the feline-eyed racer, the embodiment of untarnished strength and quiet confidence.
Minho, the pretty mask of ivory porcelain and dripping gold.
Minho, and her. Her.
Just her.
Y/n burst into tears.
Chan's arms were suddenly on her shoulders, her biceps, skating across the fabric of her jacket, wrapping around her waist until she sunk to the floor in his arms, a shattered, broken mess of glass and tears. Her knee scraped the cement through her ripped jeans but she didn't feel it, clinging to Chan even though all she wanted to do was push him away. A loud sob escaped her mouth and she buried her face in his jacket as his arms coiled around her even tighter, almost protectively. His hand brushed her knee, readjusting it gently so it didn't press against the ground, his retracting fingertips stained lightly with her blood.
Y/n closed her eyes tight, so tight, like if she did it hard enough Minho would suddenly reappear and take Chan's place. She was a swirling, confused mess of overwhelming agony and longing sadness. Y/n did not know how it felt to drown in a dark, lonely ocean, but she supposed this is must what it would have felt like. Sinking like a stone in a sea of doubt, gasping for oxygen but instead dousing her insides in the fresh, painful frigidness of her situation.
She was barely aware when Chan adjusted himself to lean against the car again, Y/n in his lap. She clung to him, the weeks of maintaining the nonchalant facade disappearing in the unexpected comfort of his embrace. Turning her head to the side, overwhelmed by sudden dizziness from her emotional onslaught, she dimly noticed that the sleeve of her jacket was wet, soft, dark patches making patterns on the fabric like the first few raindrops at the beginning of a storm. It took her several moments to comprehend the fact that Chan was also crying.
His face was buried into the crook of her neck, nuzzling into the juncture, soaking it with his tears. Strangely, Y/n didn't mind, too preoccupied with the combined vulnerability of the situation. She stopped sniffing, blinking to remove the blurry tears from her vision. A quiet, repeated whimper came from her shoulder, Chan's voice muffled by the fabric and the force at which he was burying his face into her neck.
"Please, don't go... Stay with me, I'm sorry, I should never have done this, please-"
Y/n stilled, trying to understand through the aftermath of her tears. She wasn't sure if he was talking to her, or reliving a memory of someone, or something else. Maybe he was talking to Minho, or another close friend. It was impossible for Y/n to tell.
He was pleading.
"Chan?" Y/n whispered, voice raw and cracked. A sudden realisation dawned on her. She knew it was completely outside the bounds of propriety to interrupt his whimpering pleas but she couldn't let the thought remain unsaid. Gathering her courage, she touched his shoulder. He lifted his head slightly, indicating that he was listening. Or maybe he just needed air, having shoved his face into her shoulder for so long. But Y/n took the opportunity as it came, though a little shakily.
"It was you, wasn't it?" She whispered almost inaudibly. "The night I cried backstage, a few days after Minho collapsed.. you were the one who held me."
Chan nodded infinitesimally, almost guiltily, like he'd been caught. A choked sob ripped out of his lungs, his eyes glazed, and Y/n opened her mouth, unsure. He was clearly in pain, and Y/n had a strong feeling it wasn't the physical type. Chan murmured something shakily in Korean before pressing his head to her shoulder again, shoulders heaving with the force of his tears.
They sat like that for a while, Y/n eventually feeling bold enough to reach up and stroke his hair lightly. It was like pinfeathers beneath her fingers, softer than she could have ever imagined. Chan's cries quieted after a while, and so did Y/n's halfhearted sniffing, leaving the both of them clinging to each other, the way a person drowning in the sea might cling to a piece of debris.
It should have felt strange, considering that Y/n didn't even know Chan well, but she felt too boneless and spent to currently care about physical boundaries. And so did he, clearly feeling careless enough to run his fingers lightly up and down her spine, not daring to go past her middle back. The sense of affinity hanging in the atmosphere descended like a cloud upon Y/n and Chan until the advancing, rhythmic sound of footsteps sounded from the corridor outside. The door handle turned and Y/n hastily scrambled off Chan's lap, unceremoniously falling on her ass beside him. Chan smoothed a large, veiny hand through his hair just as the door opened.
To Y/n's enormous surprise, a cat came strolling through the doorway, looking around inquisitively before moving to lie down in the sunlight. Chan spluttered before pointing to the doorway, confused.
"Whose footsteps were those, then?" he stuttered, looking at Y/n as if she might have known the answer.
She simply fought a smile and shrugged back before standing up, and slowly moving closer to the cat. The dark, jet black fur shone honey brown and was flecked with gold under the wash of sunlight. Y/n stroked its back gently, feeling the cat's satisfied purr rumble up from its throat. It mewed at Chan as he settled on the other side, his long legs folded up to his chest. He leaned forward, petting the cat, and his knee brushed Y/n's. The touch sent a jolt through her and Y/n felt heat rise in her cheeks, petting the cat a little faster to hide the crimson splotches on her face. If Chan noticed, he didn't say anything, having apparently come to a conclusion that the footsteps outside the door must have been someone else.
Y/n pressed her lips together to stop herself from bursting out in questions. The moment was quiet and almost intimate, and Y/n felt like she'd be ruining it if she bombarded the dark-haired racer with questions. Looking down at the cat as it tilted green eyes at her, she smiled and scratched it lightly behind the ear. It looked a little bit like Minho; inquisitive, quietly confident eyes and fur the same shade as his hair when it hit the light. Y/n felt a pang in her chest and turned to Chan. Now or never, she supposed.
"Chan?" she whispered, not for the first time.
He responded with a "hm", seemingly distracted by the cat.
"Do- do you know where Minho is? Is he okay?"
Chan turned to her. Y/n's breath caught; his eyes had lightened to a dark brown, the sun casting an almost glowing sheen over his tanned skin. His eyes were rimmed in red and tear tracks stained his cheekbones like the hollowing path water makes through the ground, and the water caught the light, sparkling when he blinked at her. The slight bruise under his eye was rosy and pale purple. His hair, however un-styled and messy it was, swept down over his forehead in a way that strangely made Y/n's heart thud far faster than it should have.
Chan opened his mouth to speak. "He's-"
"Minho's fine. At home, resting." A voice sounded from the doorway. A slim, agile-looking racer was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. He had an air of good nature, with his hair dyed a dirty blonde, and the dark roots growing out under the strands. His eyes were wide and dark, yet they were sparkly with a mischievous light that glinted as he tilted his head at Chan. There was silence between the three, until the man clicked his fingers, the cat rising from its position like a sleeper agent and padding to the racer's feet. It wound itself between his legs, pawing at the thick silver zips on his boots. The man reached down and gently picked the cat up, stroking it and whispering. Y/n watched the man, fascinated, though Chan looked politely unfazed.
"Was it you making those heavy footsteps before?" Y/n asked timidly.
The racer simply nodded, not taking his eyes off the cat. Y/n's gaze traveled down to where the cat's dark, fluffy tail flicked at the waist level of the man. The racer's physique was slim and lean, his shoulders broad, chest tapering down to a slender, pretty waist that Y/n was almost jealous of. He was wearing a plain black short-sleeve mesh shirt, tucked into combat pants similar to Y/n's own. He was fairly short, just like Chan and Minho, yet tall enough that Y/n figured if she stood, he would be able to look down into her face.
The racer tilted his head, noticing Chan's gaze and Y/n's stare. He gave Y/n a million-watt bright, cheeky grin, eyes slitting with the exuberant movement, before his gaze slid back to the cat. She liked him instantly.
"I didn't think she would wander here," he said quietly, still smiling, referring to the cat. He tapped its nose softly but cheekily before moving to sit right next to Y/n. His knees took up most of her personal space, but she found that she didn't mind, feeling more curious than anything. He looked up at Y/n, poking her cheek lightly.
"Why you crying?" he said curiously. "Yah, Chan, what'd you say- oh, you're crying too, alright... are we just having a quick breakdown sesh in here? Cool, cool, cool."
Y/n heard Chan sigh. Turning her head just enough to see him out of her peripheral, Y/n watched as he leant back on his hands, stretching out his legs in front of him. He looked relieved, and Y/n wondered if he was glad that the cat-wielding racer on her other side had provided a welcome distraction from the previous conversation. Fighting a sigh herself, Y/n turned to the cheeky-looking man before reaching out to lightly ruffle the cat's fur.
"Are you friends with Minho?" she said softly, glancing up at the man. He nodded with a small "mm" before gently tugging on Y/n's hand, directing it to the spot behind the cat's ears. Surprised at the sudden contact. Y/n watched as the cat purred loudly at the feeling of her fingertips brushing its ears. The man chuckled before letting go.
"Minho and I have been close friends for a long time," he said quietly before glancing at Chan. "How are things, you know, after-"
"Things are fine," Chan's voice was tight, strained. Y/n tensed involuntarily.
The man sighed, voice softening, before he turned to Y/n. "If you want to know about Minho, he's fine. He's at home, recuperating. I went to see him yesterday just to drop a few things off for him, and I'm going again tonight, if you want me to say anything to him from you."
Y/n shook her head lightly at his offer, polite and appreciative. "Thank you, but I would much rather he rest, and come back healed. Do you know when he's coming back, by the way?"
"Probably within the next few days," Chan interrupted blandly. "He's never away for long. Too worried about you."
Y/n spluttered. "Me? What do you mean-"
The racer interrupted, laughing nervously before shooting Chan a glare, unbeknownst to Y/n. His voice tightened.
"Don't worry. Minho will be back soon. And he'll be happy to find out there's a stray hanging around the arena too. He loves cats," he scratched the cat's dark fur with a smile. "Oh, and I'm Jisung."
Y/n nodded. "I'm Y/n."
Jisung shot her another smile, bright enough to outshine the sunlight filtering into the garage. It dimmed slightly as Chan got up with a huff, brushing off his clothes. His eyes were suspiciously glassy and Y/n made to take his hand, voice coming out shaky but concerned.
"Chan, wait, where are you going-"
She moved to stand up too, hand still outstretched. She only got about halfway, crouching, before Chan took her hand as if on impulse, squeezing it quickly but gently before hastily leaving the room. The garage door swung shut behind him.
Y/n froze in position, hand tingling from the unexpected but welcome contact. A sudden rush of heat flooded to her cheeks and she gulped, that familiar pit of strange, fluttering tenderness settling in the pit of her stomach.
Jisung pointedly looked away.
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a/n: this took way too long oops
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