Kidnapped By The Gang (BTS fanfic)

Bulletproof

*This will contain some foul language near the end. I have warned you^^

You tap the mattress with your fingers, playing a continuous rhythm. Your nerves weren't settling down so you had to tap away the nervousness.

Seokjin seemed very familiar, but you couldn't put your finger on it.

You swing your legs over the edge of the bed. At that moment when you were about to be insane from boredom, the door bursts open once more. You jump and put your hands up to you chest as if you were trying to keep your heart from leaping out.

It was the man from earlier. He looked quite angry. "Come out," he says.

I think I like it in here.

"Hurry up."

You get up and walk to the door. As you approach the door, you see five men gathered around a metal table. Dripping from the table was a thick red liquid which you knew was blood. "What happened to him?" you ask.

The leader, Namjoon, looks at you and says, "I need you to help him."

"H-how?" you stutter.

"You go to medical school right? You want to be a doctor?" Taehyung asks.

"Y-yeah I do. How do you know that?" you ask, slightly creeped out.

"That doesn't matter," Namjoon states. "Can you do it or not? If you can, we won't kill you."

This peaked your interest. You walk up to the bleeding man. He had on a spiky mask that made him intimidating. You look at his abdomen and see a small hole. "Was he shot?" you ask.

"Yes," Namjoon says.

You look up at him. "Even if I were to help you, I don't have any tools."

Jungkook hands you a bag. You receive it and hear clanging inside. You guessed that there were medical tools in here. You take out various metal instruments and lay them out on the table. You breathe in, then out. "Okay," you say to yourself. You pull back your hair and tied it up with a scrunchie. You roll up your sleeves and run to the bathroom in your room. You quickly wash your hands and return.

"I need you guys to step back," you order.

You were surprised by your commanding voice. You had no idea what you were doing and you were terrified. But you had to save him, even if you didn't know him.

You lift up the hem of his shirt and see the bloody wound. The smells of blood and slightly burned flesh filled your nose. You slide your hand under him, trying to feel his back. No exit wound. Dammit, it would have been easier for me to treat.

"I need a lighter," you say as you grab the forceps.

The pale man hands you a green lighter. You light a flame and hold the forceps over the dancing light. You look up at them and say, "I need a belt."

They look at you confused. "If I'm going to pull the bullet out, it's painful. The belt is for him to bite down on."

A young man with small hands and a sharp jawline runs into a room and comes out with a leather belt. The forceps become red at the tip. You turn off the lighter and give it back to the pale man. You take the belt and fold it in half.

You go up to the injured man's head and gently pull off the mask. As you pull it off, you see a handsome face contorted in pain. You softly whisper, "I need you to bite down on this. What I'm going to do next is painful."

He slowly opens his mouth and you slide the belt in between his teeth. You move to the bullet wound and breathe in. Then out. You put steadily inserted the forceps in the gap. The man could feel the metal scrap against the inside. He groans in pain and starts to move.