Sincerely, Yoursby Admin E (@thebiasrekkers)

Sincerely, Yours by Admin E (@thebiasrekkers)

Jungkook frowned, thinking back on the life he left behind. He refused to conform to society’s whims and ran away from home when it was time for him to have his partner chosen through The Lottery Bill. He didn’t know what love was and he wasn’t sure if he wanted any part of it if the government was hell-bent on minimizing it throughout the globe. Jungkook could admit that he did stupid things when he was emotionally unstable, hence why he was living the life he currently was in the first place. But he also wasn’t too keen on the idea of bending to the whims of others.

Even so…

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Make It Right [BTS Mafia!AU]

Plot: “It’s always darkest before the dawn…” It’s a dog-eat-dog world in Seoul, South Korea. One has to dwell in the shadows in order to reach for the light. What are you willing to sacrifice in order to feel the sunlight on your face? What will it take to drag you back into darkness? How long will the journey be to make it right?

Rating: M // NSFW

Genre: Series | Mafia!AU | Crime!AU | Angst | Romance/Fluff

Pairings: Jin x OC | Taehyung/Hoseok x OC | Yoongi/Jungkook x OC

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Heavy Language, Angst, Smut, Slow Burn

Previous Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || Admin E’s WP || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,451  

Chapter 19: Mikrokosmos

"Each person has their own history. Each person has their own star."

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

“Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.”

A chorus of “A-men” resounded throughout the sanctuary and Jimin joined in with his fellow parishioners. His head was bowed low and he clasped his hands together in prayer, hoping that he could commend his spirit unto the Father whom he so desperately believed in. He wished to leave his burdens on the altar and rest his mind as easily as he would dare.

But even in that act, Jimin was a sinner.

Every Sunday he tried to leave his pain and worries and everything that afflicted him at the altar of the Lord – at God’s table. But he selfishly took something back with him every time. He did not fully relinquish his burdens upon God because he also knew that the Father would never put on him more than he could bear. He believed that his anxieties were seemingly petty. They were the young and foolish woes of a man who barely knew what it meant to live his life.

And yet, despite his hypocrisy, Jimin continued to return to the House of the Lord. He continued to pray diligently; not for himself, but for his brothers. For the people he cared about and for the people they, in turn, cared for. It was a never-ending cycle, a seemingly bottomless pit. Or was it more appropriate to say that the connections that people had with each other could literally number the stars?

Would it be that way for generations to come? He wished for it; for the pain and suffering to end. For a true and lasting peace to be obtained.

He truly wasn’t meant to remain in a world of darkness.

Halfway through the reverend’s sermon, the doors to the sanctuary opened. A few parishioners turned their heads and bowed politely, their smiles warm and inviting. Jimin continued to focus on his prayer, Bible turned to Romans in his lap. However, a shadow was cast over the pages and he couldn’t help but to lift his head and see who was now standing beside him.

Jimin’s mouth fell open slightly and he blinked when he realized it was Eden.

Her hair was pulled back, a low braid draping over her shoulder. She wore a dark green dress with long sleeves and the skirt just barely touched her knees. Simple, black pumps adorned her feet and she was holding a black and gold clutch in her hands. A frown touched her lips before she sat down gently beside him, reaching toward the back of the pew for a Bible.

“What book are we in?” she whispered while opening the book.

“Wha—oh, we’re in Romans. Romans, Chapter twelve.”

Nodding, she turned to the book of Romans and followed along with the reverend as he continued to preach his sermon. No other words were spoken between them and they both sat together in companionable silence. They sang together, prayed together, and even participated in Holy Communion together. It was when Jimin finished off the wine that he realized why Eden decided to show up.

It was First Sunday. No matter how busy or how upset she was with the world, Eden always made time to come to Holy Communion.

After the morning service was finished, fellow parishioners invited everyone to enjoy a meal together. Jimin often declined since he had other obligations during the day. This morning would be no different.

Both he and Eden politely bowed to the others before exiting the church.

Her heels clicked along the stone walkway leading to the steps that fanned out toward the parking lot. Jimin’s longer legs kept pace with her the entire way. However, instead of returning to her vehicle or even out onto the main street where she would have taken the bus, Eden turned and walked along the path leading toward the church’s expansive back garden. Jimin followed since she didn’t seem to protest his company.

When she reached a stone bench, Eden sat down and fished around in her clutch. Jimin couldn’t help the smirk that touched his lips as she pulled out a cigarette. Shaking his head, he sighed and took a seat next to her.

“Really?” He couldn’t help but laugh. “We just finished with service.”

Eden pointed two fingers at him, the cigarette perched between them. “Don’t start, Jimin-ah,” she said while pulling out a lighter. “The Lord will be happy that I showed up for service at all.”

He wasn’t going to argue with her on that. After everything that happened, he was almost positive that Eden wasn’t going to show up to church ever again. Jimin understood why she was upset, and he didn’t blame her for doubting him or even Jungkook. But it would have been a lie to himself if her mistrust didn’t hurt him. It did. They’d known each other for the better part of three years now. Despite being a devout Christian, the path he walked often forced him to go against the teachings of the Lord.

Jimin felt so dirty when he entered sacred ground.

Like Jungkook, Jimin did not hide his affiliation with the criminal underworld from Eden. She accepted it and didn’t even look down on him for his status. She even once told him that the fact that he went to church meant that he felt some semblance of guilt for what he was doing. He always prayed in earnest and Eden knew that he was genuinely kind and decent human being. At least that was how she saw him. At the end of the day, however, it was how he was seen in the eyes of God that mattered the most.

Being reminded of that by her lifted his spirits even just a little.

He waited until she exhaled smoke from her nostrils to speak. “Eden Noona,” Jimin prodded softly, “about Yoongi Hyung…”

“If you’re about to give me some kind of excuse for what he did, then don’t bother.” She tapped a bit of ash from the end of her cigarette. “I’m not in the mood.”

Jimin sighed. “Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.”

She crossed one leg over the other, cradling her arm as she held her cigarette away from her face. Eden’s eyes cut sideways to look at him and he could see a mixture of anger and hurt swirling in her eyes. “Vengeance is mine, and recompense, for the time when their foot shall slip; for the day of their calamity is at hand, and their doom comes swiftly.” She took a long drag from her cigarette, flicking off an ash as smoke exhaled from between her lips. “Thus saith the Lord.”

“You can’t hold onto that forever, Noona. Him aside, it’s not good for you.”

He watched her crush out the cherry on the ground by her shoe before tossing it into a nearby waste basket. She saw her smirk, but it was a mirthless gesture. “I bet you don’t even know how long he and I were together, do you?” Eden turned to look at him. “Or how we even met?”

Jimin shook his head, his brows furrowing. “But I can listen, if you’d like.”

She scoffed, a hand reaching up to finger at her braid. “We met in the States six years ago. I guess you could say we were friends. But considering that everything I’ve known about him has been a lie, now I’m not so sure.” Sighing, she let her hand fall to her lap. “I came here a year after that. We started dating then. And we continued to date for three more years.”

Jimin’s heart thumped heavily against his chest. Five years ago?

It was an absolute madhouse in their world and yet Yoongi continued to make time for a woman he cared for? There was a part of Jimin that could hardly believe what he was hearing. The Yoongi Hyung he knew was deemed as The Lightning Claw for a reason. He was swift and deadly, striking without provocation and leaving devastation in his wake. The world they entered nearly ten years ago was at its peak of violence and chaos back then. Blood splattered across the streets and sometimes the aftermath was so terrible that not even the police would step in.

“For three years, I believed he was keeping me away from his friends and family because he didn’t want them to know he was dating some half Korean orphan girl. He would leave for days, supposedly on a business trip, and then come back like nothing happened.”

But now that he thought about it, there were days that Yoongi would just take off. He would disappear and come back a few days later. Even after he started making more international moves, he would never be gone for more than a week or so at a time. And when he came home, he would do his standard debriefing before heading out again. They all assumed he was with someone, but he never spoke up about it. Jimin even remembered Yoongi almost coming to blows with Taehyung when he wouldn’t ease off with his incessant teasing, prodding Yoongi to introduce her to them.

“I never knew where he lived but he always came to my house. We hardly went out in Gangnam and when we did, it was always late. We mostly would just take trips together out of town. It just didn’t make sense to me.”

When the fighting was especially bad, Yoongi waited until all his injuries were completely healed before disappearing again. While Jimin couldn’t imagine what persona his brother was attempting to portray, he knew that he never wanted Eden to worry over him because of how bloody and disgusting their world actually was. Wanting to push her as far away from that madness as possible certainly wasn’t unreasonable.

But he knew that Eden wouldn’t see it that way. She’d been damaged by his dishonesty which, as a result, caused her current trust issues. Now, after finding out the truth, he honestly couldn’t be upset with how standoffish she was being. Who wouldn’t be?

“All this time, I thought he was just bored or was too busy to be with me. But the truth?” Eden scoffed, then laughed. “He was ashamed.”

“Eden Noona,” offered Jimin, causing her to look away from him, “I’m sure it wasn’t like that. In fact, I know it wasn’t. We all bothered him constantly about who he was always running off to go see, but Hyung never wanted to give up any details and we respected his privacy enough not to get involved.” He lifted his hand to touch Eden’s shoulder. “You don’t understand what life was like back then. Turf wars were happening all over Seoul and we were just fighting to keep a leg up in the game. I’m sure he just didn’t want you to get mixed up in all of that or even get hurt.”

He saw her roll her eyes. “The path to hell is paved with good intentions.” She rounded on him. “That wasn’t his choice to make, Jimin-ah!” Her eyes narrowed. “Do you even realize how much danger he put me in by keeping me in the dark? What if a rival gang decided to kidnap me? What if they tried to use me to take advantage of you guys?”

Jimin averted his gaze, realizing that she wasn’t wrong either. He knew that going into a situation blindly was just as dangerous as knowingly walking into enemy territory. Had that very scenario occurred, there was a good chance that it would have ended badly. The times were not so forgiving in those days. Even Jimin transformed into a monster, seeing red and spilling blood as easily as a child spilled milk.

“I understand why you’re angry, Noona, I do,” he said, his hand sliding off her shoulder, “but there’s no way for us to determine if what he did was the best choice or the worst choice.” He lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Can’t you just forgive him this once? Not for his sake, but for yours?”

He didn’t move his eyes from hers, hoping that his sincerity would come across as best as he could. It was no secret how Jungkook felt about Eden and while he wasn’t sure if Yoongi still felt the same, he wanted there to be peace between them all. They were so close to finally walking away from the darker parts of their past. They were finally going to be able to step out into the light again; to feel the sun on their cheeks and the rain on their skin. They could stop hiding and go back to being the people they used to be before willfully walking onto the road of darkness.

“I don’t want to see this eating away at you anymore.”

Eden sighed and stood from the stone bench. Jimin immediately followed, watching her flatten out the skirts of her dress in the front. A soft breeze pushed against them, blowing his hair in different directions. A pained expression crossed her face before she took a breath and looked back at him. Her eyes seemed less angry, yet they appeared more hurt than they had been just a few minutes earlier.

“…I need time, Jimin-ah,” she finally said, causing a small ache to form in his chest. It was the softest he’d ever heard her speak in all the years he’d known her. “I just need some time to finally let it all go.”

Then she smiled at him, her hand reaching out to ruffle his hair a little bit. He gave a weak smile in response before watching her turn to head down the rest of the path and out of the garden. Jimin stood alone, waiting until he could no longer hear the clicking of her heels going down the sidewalk. When he turned his phone back on, there were a couple of missed calls, four text messages and one voicemail.

It was from Hoseok.

“Jimin-ah. I know you’re in service, so you don’t have to call me back. Come home as soon as you’ve finished. I’ll give you all the details when everyone is back.”

Sliding his phone into his pocket, he saw the small cluster of dark clouds beginning to form through the canopy of trees. A storm was coming.

“So,” Jimin said, his voice quiet, “it’s finally happening.”

Sincerely, Yours - JJK

For the @btswriterscorner​ - Amor Fabula Launch Project in celebration of the month of Valentine’s Day!

Plot: Jeon Jungkook hails from humble origins, his family ranked as Laborers. Since he is the youngest of three children, his time for the lottery has not come. But when it does, he refuses to conform to society’s system and runs away. Disowned, he’s now become a fugitive, taking on odd jobs here and there as a “runner-for-hire”. What he doesn’t realize is that he will find love in the most unexpected place.

Rating: PG-13 // SFW

Genre: dystopian!au/dystopian themes | angst | romance/fluff

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Female OC (Nikita Meyers)

Warnings: Strong language, vandalism, violence, interracial/intercultural relationship

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 7,607

AN: This is the companion piece to my first story, Touch In The Dark. This is the “rebel” view of what transpires in the world that I built. In all honesty, I think I may like the MYG version a little more, but I think it’s mostly from my love of hurting my own feelings. I still had a lot of fun with this one and I hope you all enjoy it. Writing for Jungkookis is always a good time. All reblogs, critiques/reviews, comments and affection are accepted! Happy reading!

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

~ j.j. ~

Jungkook swung his legs back and forth as he sat on the edge of a nearby building. He whistled a tune to himself, a song from a life he could barely remember these days. A former Laborer, now turned Runner, Jungkook could say that he left a life that he knew wasn’t meant for him. The Class system was such a bogus way to create order and balance in the world. The Blue Bloods stayed in the upper tier and those born in poverty or with lesser means were meant to work for the rest of their days. Throw in The Lottery Bill and that was just the cherry on top of a fucked up sundae.

A soft breeze pushed against his form as he watched the sky transform into a mesh of warm colors: pinks, purples, oranges and yellows. The sun was starting to set and the world’s light would dim, blanketed by the cobalt sky littered with the few stars he was only allowed to see as he ran from rooftop to rooftop. Running free, no longer tethered to the rules of the world that dared to shackle him to a life of meaninglessness.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out, he scrolled through the messages and noticed the priority one at the very top. Brushing his fingers through his hair, he sighed quietly as he glanced over the message. His newest client was scheduled to meet him in an hour. It was a standard escort job. It wouldn’t be too hard and the pay was decent.

In their society, it was a crime to “fall in love” with anyone. Period. Not even the spouse that was chosen during an individual’s Lottery drawing. Love fueled emotions that often led to the ruins of others. Passion had the potential to overshadow logic and reason. When logic and reason were cast aside, only terrible things happened. Emotions were just bad things and led to bad times.

Jungkook didn’t buy into that horseshit.

It was the main reason he abandoned his station in life and lived in the moment. He didn’t worry about yesterday. He could care less about tomorrow. Today was all that mattered and all that would matter when it was finally said and done. 

He slid his thumb over the screen, dialing the number of his new “job” detail. The man answered quickly, interrupting the second ring. 

“Is this Jeon Jungkook?”

Jungkook smirked at the hushed tone in the man’s voice. “It is. Is this Min Yoongi?”

“Yes,” he replied softly, as if trying to gauge Jungkook’s own tone, “were you able to secure safe passage for both my wife and me?”

Clambering to his feet, he dusted off the backs of his weathered jeans and knocked a bit of dirt off his boots. “That’s not my area of expertise, I’m afraid. That was taken care of by a different handler.”

He knew he was being a little shit, but sometimes it was all about asking the right questions.

There was a semi-long pause from the other end of the line, followed by a slow sigh of what could be presumed as mounting exasperation. 

“So why was I directed to you?”

Jungkook’s grin grew a little wider. “Because I’m the one who’s going to get you out in one piece.”

“I see,” Yoongi said, as if he was mulling over something, “so you’re a Runner.”

It wasn’t a question.

“That’s right.”

“I just hope you’re as fast as that mouth of yours.”

He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. “I’m faster, trust me.” Pushing back the sleeve of his jacket, he spied the time. “I’ll meet you at the Square in half an hour. Don’t be late.”

And without waiting for a reply, Jungkook ended the call. Pulling out his earbuds, he connected the jack to the phone and slipped the buds on. It didn’t take him long to find the song he wanted, cranking up the volume as the intro crescendoed slowly. Inhaling lungfuls of air, he stretched his arms out wide and then raised them up so they were parallel with his head. Once he loosened up the muscles, he rolled his neck and hopped up and down - shaking his arms for good measure. 

He always had to psyche himself up for things like this.

As soon as the balls of his feet hit the ground, Jungkook lunged forward. Up and over the edge of the roof. The world rushed by him in a blur of motion, his dark hair flying off his forehead. The night was cool, but the wind stung his eyes - making them water. He quickly wiped at them, curling his body inward and then extending his limbs. The concrete scraped at the pads of his fingers, but it didn’t take him long to realign his body, forcing his lower half to swing off to the side so that he could catch the railing of the fire escape. 

The bars rattled violently when his heels planted themselves onto the platform, but he was already climbing up the bars to reach the next rooftop. Once Jungkook made it over the edge, his legs pumped the ground in tandem with his heavily beating heart.

Unconsciously, his mouth spread into a wide open smile.

Free-running. They couldn’t have called it something better if they tried.

Sweat broke out across his brow and the pulse of the song’s bass seemed to reverberate throughout his entire body. With every jump, lunge, catch and pull he performed, Jungkook’s elation only seemed to climb. It would be too soon if he could never run as free as he was now.

Heaving and halfway covered in perspiration, Jungkook arrived at the designated meeting spot within fifteen minutes. It gave him just enough time to grab a bottle of water from a nearby vending machine, emptying half the contents over his head and soaking his hair. Onlookers peered at him curiously, but he didn’t pay them any attention. He almost never did. He drained what was left in the bottle, savoring the feeling of re-hydrating himself.

Craning his neck, he located a nearby waste bin and was about to toss the bottle into it - arms stretched like he was shooting a basketball into a hoop. 

He stumbled forward suddenly, his body pushed forward from an unexpected impact. Grunting, he quickly pivoted on his heels to see who was responsible, but all he caught sight of was a ball cap flying in his line of sight as auburn curls flew past him. Jungkook reached out and snatched the hat out of the air as the owner turned to catch a glimpse of him. 

Her dark gray eyes glared at him, catching Jungkook off guard. Despite living in South Korea, Jungkook was used to foreigners. But he certainly didn’t remember seeing someone with those eyes and soft caramel skin. Her hair looked dyed, but it strangely suited her.

Jungkook took a step forward, holding her hat out to her. Instead of taking it back, she continued to shift her gaze from him and then to the hat. He grinned.

“Not even a thank you, huh? You don’t want this back?” He waved the cap back and forth, as though he were trying to keep a cat’s attention on him. “Is this mine now?”

He hadn’t seen her move. In fact, he didn’t even realize she’d closed what small distance existed between them. Not until Jungkook felt a soft burst of pain near his stomach. The wind was knocked from him almost immediately and all he could manage was a wide-eyed stare at her.

She grinned, twisting her fist into his stomach a little more. “Not a chance, you fucking tool,” replied the girl.

Jungkook collapsed to one knee when she took a step back, her hat not back in her possession. He struggled to reclaim what air was stolen from him, one dark brown eye glaring up at her. Not to say that women were weak, but he hadn’t expected a punch from a pretty girl to hurt this much. 

Hopping back on one foot, she waved the hat at him in a farewell gesture before sliding it back onto her head. She turned and bolted from the square without so much as a second glance at him. He coughed, rubbing at his chest in an attempt to regulate his breathing again.

Wow, what a bitch, he thought, but Jungkook found himself smirking once the pain subsided.

Maybe he was a glutton for punishment.

“Are you alright?”

The voice jarred him from his thoughts and he quickly scrambled to his feet. He was face to face with his temporary charge, Min Yoongi. Standing beside him was a woman with dark brown curls, hazel eyes, and mocha skin. She peered at Jungkook curiously, her hand laced through Yoongi’s. She was also a foreigner from what he could tell, and well-known through the news as the “Charity Selection” picked from The Lottery two years ago.

He folded his arms across his chest. “This might be a little difficult.”

Yoongi lofted a brow. “And why is that?”

“Well,” Jungkook began, taking a few steps toward them before circling around both of them, “your wife’s kinda popular.”

The older man narrowed his eyes. “So you’re not going to be able to help us?”

“I didn’t say that.” He held a hand up and then waved it through the air, as if shooing away a gnat. “I just said that it’ll be a little difficult. Not impossible.” Jungkook met their gazes and grinned. “I got this. Trust me.”

~ n.m. ~

“Nikita, that was reckless.”

Removing the baseball cap, she roughly ran her fingers through her curls while scoffing. She carelessly tossed the parcel onto the table. “What does it matter? I got you what you asked for.”

The man seated at the table steepled his fingers, dark eyes peering over his knuckles at her. Nikita waited for him to say something, but he merely sighed and began to untie the twine wrapped around the brown paper packaging. It was his way of dismissing her, but letting Nikita know that she wasn’t completely off the hook. He’d find a way to pay her back and it wouldn’t be pretty.

She knew this because it wouldn’t be the first time.

Not wanting to press her luck, Nikita quickly vacated the office and closed the door behind her. She rested her shoulder against the door frame, mentally kicking herself for what she’d said. She knew she didn’t mean it, and yet she continued to come off as cold and unfeeling in these situations. Nikita was about to slam her head into the door when someone suddenly cleared their throat beside her. 

“Keep it up and you’re going to put Minjae Hyung into an early grave.”

Craning her neck, she cut her eyes at the shaggy-haired individual - his shit-eating grin never failing to irritate her. 

“Shut-up, Taegi-ah,” she snipped, walking past him. Predictably, he followed but Nikita ignored him, focusing her attention on the warehouse.

“Aw, don’t be like that, Nikki-ah,” he whined at her back. 

She rolled her eyes. Nikita hated that nickname and he knew it. She also knew that he didn’t care that she hated it. 

Because that was the kind of person Yoon Taegi was. 

A pain in her goddamn ass.

But she couldn’t hold it against him. Because he was the one who helped her break the chains the world decided to put on her the day she was born. Without him, she knew she would still be living the life of a woefully ignorant aristocrat - blind to the truth of society’s agenda. Nikita lived in a castle made of glass and didn’t understand her purpose outside of being a breeding agent for some future husband she would never be able to relate to.

When the day came for her to be matched with her significant other, Nikita was ready to accept that lot in her life. She was prepared to walk down the path that she was groomed for. What reason did she have to believe otherwise; to be aware that there was something else beyond the veil?

The truth wasn’t known to her until she saw a couple being arrested on the streets - cuffed and pulled away from each other. They screamed until their throats were raw, and then continued yelling for each other. They managed to share one final kiss until each were thrown into separate police cars and driven away to be incarcerated.

Their fates were declared on international television.

Taegi was the man she’d seen carted away and three months later, he broke out of prison. As punishment, the woman he loved was put to death. It was their attempt to shatter his spirit, to break him. 

They failed.

Sighing, she looked at Taegi’s smug expression and couldn’t help marveling at how far they’d come. A loaf of bread, cheese and meat was all it took to barter for the truth. Taegi gave it to her and Nikita knew she could never go back to her life of privilege. Not if there were people she could help in the process. It didn’t take her long to find herself pulled into Rebel circles - all of them graciously accepting her into their fold.

hree years passed since then and Nikita didn’t regret leaving her family or her “duty” behind. She was free and she was fighting for a cause that meant something. Even if she’d never experienced it for herself.

Love.

Sliding the metal door aside, Nikita stepped into the warehouse. The smell of gunpowder and kerosene instantly filled her nostrils - causing her eyes to water slightly. She quickly wiped at them and sniffed, fishing through a crate on a nearby table. Her hands stilled momentarily as she felt Taegi’s palms slip over her shoulders. He squeezed them gently and she sighed, hanging her head a measure as her eyes stared into the box of homemade pipe bombs and hand grenades.

“Sometimes I worry that the fighting is never going to end,” Nikita said softly.

Taegi rubbed her shoulders in a comforting motion before moving away from her to lean against the table. He folded his arms across his chest, his face lifting to the ceiling. “It’ll stop one day. We just have to stand strong and in solidarity.”

Nikita shrugged, pulling out a few pipe bombs. “I just hope we’re around long enough to see it.”

She checked the fuses, gauging their length, before placing them back in the box. She set one hand grenade out, flicking a finger over the pull pin. After making sure that it was secure, she dropped it into her messenger bag and moved to the next crate. It contained knives of varying shapes and sizes. She opted for a switchblade of decent length, slipping it into her back pocket.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Pulling it out, she scanned the message on her screen. It was from Minjae, as expected. He was sending her on another assignment. There was another potential ally they could have on their side versus running amok on the streets.

Turning to move to another table, she felt Taegi’s hand grasping at her arm. She looked at him and saw the worry lines etched across his forehead. Nikita couldn’t help but smile at him.

“You just got back and you’re already prepping to head out again.” He frowned. “You’re like a machine, woman.”

“Can’t help it,” she said, chuckling slightly, “I’m not one to sit around and do nothing.”

“It’s not about doing nothing. It’s about resting. You’ve been gone for three days.” Taegi sighed, releasing his hold on her. “Hyung can’t pass this off to someone else?”

“Nope.” Nikita shook her head. “Recruitment’s my main gig. You know this. Besides…” She paused, meeting Taegi’s gaze, her own expression softening a bit. “...if we don’t have more people on our side, what good is any of this? It’s never going to stop until every last one of us are either dead or re-educated. Numbers mean everything.”

Looking back at the phone, she opened the file Minjae sent her. It was the most current dossier on a person willingly living off the grid. They had been for some time now.

She recognized his picture immediately. He was the guy she’d run into earlier that day. The same guy she punched in the gut for teasing her when she was in the process of playing “courier” for their group.

Nikita couldn’t help the bark of laughter that escaped her. Taegi looked at her curiously but she shook her head, slipping her phone back into her pocket. This was going to be interesting. Maybe he’d hear her out despite the terrible first impression she’d given. 

My job just got a little bit harder. Great.

~ j.j. ~

Jungkook lazily sprawled himself out on the largest branch of an old tree near the edge of town. Swiveling a toothpick between his teeth, he looked around at the people who passed below him obliviously. It amused him, in a way, how they could mindlessly continue with their lives. They were like sheep to the slaughter, unaware of the truth of things.

Then again, he didn’t really know what the “truth” was himself.

All that mattered to him was no longer having a label stamped on his body as though it were a badge of shame. Society deemed that he was destined to be poor. Society claimed that his ideal match would be someone of their choosing. Society was right and the average person didn’t need to question this.

Well, society could go eat a bag of dicks.

Again, his phone buzzed. He picked it up from where he had it laying on his chest to stare at it - the screen illuminating his face in the shadows. It was another job forwarded by his employer. Sighing, he opened up the dossier of the person he was sent to help this time. When he saw the picture, however, Jungkook sat up so fast that he nearly fell out of the tree. 

It was her. The woman who nailed him in the gut without batting an eyelash. The woman whose dark auburn curls and gray eyes failed to vacate his mind.

He was immediately suspicious.

Normally he would forward a job he didn’t want to another Runner. It wasn’t like Jungkook was hurting for money. In fact, he was planning on taking a small vacation soon - taking himself off the grid completely for a few weeks before coming back. But his curiosity was a damning thing and he didn’t mind being damned if it meant knowing who this woman was.

Nikita Meyers. 25. Former Blue Blood. Currently wanted by authorities due to her association with various Rebel factions throughout the world.

Blinking, he read through the short blurb again to make sure that he wasn’t misinterpreting anything. But what was there to misinterpret? This woman had it all and threw everything away to be a fugitive? Like him? He didn’t get it. Wasn’t the high life a life of pleasure and carefree days?

Why would she ever want to toss it away for the gritty life?

Jungkook frowned, thinking back on the life he left behind. He refused to conform to society’s whims and ran away from home when it was time for him to have his partner chosen through The Lottery Bill. He didn’t know what love was and he wasn’t sure if he wanted any part of it if the government was hell-bent on minimizing it throughout the globe. Jungkook could admit that he did stupid things when he was emotionally unstable, hence why he was living the life he currently was in the first place. But he also wasn’t too keen on the idea of bending to the whims of others.

Even so…

Sliding his thumb over the screen, he dialed the number his contact provided for him. It rang three times before someone answered. Her voice filled his ears and he leaned his back against the trunk of the tree as he listened.

“Jungkook-ssi?”

He smirked. “Oh, are we using polite words now?”

He heard a sigh from the other line. “I won’t apologize for what I did. I had my reasons.”

“Sure you did.” His tone dripped of sarcasm, but Jungkook felt his smile growing wider. “It’s alright. I forgive you anyway.”

“You’re so gracious. So, are you gonna help me or are you gonna pass me off so I’m someone else’s problem?”

His lips formed into a small ‘O’ while he scratched the side of his nose. “Is that normal for you?”

Nikita scoffed. “I don’t make it a habit to become a problem for anyone in the first place.”

“That’s a shame,” he replied while shifting his position to stand on the tree branch, “it’s fun to be problematic.”

“I’m sure you’d know that.”

“Of course. That's why I said it.”

“Are you going to help me or not?”

Jungkook was going to help her. He’d made that decision the minute he saw her picture on his phone as the next job he was supposed to take. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to have fun with her about it. 

“Well, you’re in luck. I happen to have some free time slotted in my schedule.”

“Good. Now come down from that tree and meet me face-to-face.”

His smile fell from his face and he sat up again, looking around in every direction. He quickly craned his neck down and saw she was standing below the tree he was currently perched in. For a long moment, the two of them just stared at each other - each of them holding their phones to their faces; listening to the other person breathing. 

Then he saw her smile up at him. It was a smile that clearly said that she knew more than he did; that she’d gotten the best of him. A smile full of secrets, daring someone to try to discover them.

It was a smile that made his heart twist sharply in his chest.

Hanging up the phone, he slid it into the inner pocket of his leather jacket. Without batting an eyelash, Jungkook effortlessly hopped off the tree branch, landing with an unnecessary flourish in front of her. Nikita slid her phone into her pocket as he slid his palms over the thighs of his jeans. 

Again, neither said anything. They just took in each other’s presence. 

Now that he got a better look at her, Jungkook was at least half a head taller than her. The strap to a dark gray messenger bag was pressed across her chest at an angle, enhancing the swell of her bosom. Other than that, there was nothing else about her that would elicit inappropriate thoughts. No skin showed outside of her bare neck, face, and thin wrists peeking out from the sleeves of her dark green field jacket. She wore charcoal gray cargo pants stuffed into a pair of shin length combat boots. A black newsboy hat adorned the top of her head this time.

“So,” Jungkook said, finally breaking the silence, “where am I escorting the lovely lady?”

“We’re too exposed here.” Nikita moved past him and he pivoted on his heels to follow after her. 

They were heading back into the city. 

Just as he was about to suggest they could go somewhere a little more private to chat, she hopped onto a nearby dumpster and scaled up the fire escape as easily as snapping her fingers. Jungkook slowly arched his neck, watching her fling herself up one iron landing until her body swung in a half arc to allow her the reach she needed to grasp onto the edge of the building’s rooftop. Her booted feet scraped over the brick, crumbling small bits to the ground until she disappeared over the edge.

“Well, I’ll be goddamned,” he mumbled, his smile returning. This woman was just full of surprises.

“Are you comin’ or not?” she called down to him.

Not like he needed to be asked twice. Jungkook made a game of it, determined to scale the building in half the amount of time she had. Once he reached the top, he pulled himself over the edge in time to see her running at full speed across the building. 

“Hey!” he shouted after her, his own legs eating at the ground in hot pursuit, “Wait a minute!”

But just as he was starting to close the distance, Nikita jumped from the building and curled her body inward. Jungkook was almost to the edge and was preparing his own dismount when he saw her successfully clear the gap. She grabbed onto one of the metal pipes and swung herself into an open window. Jungkook didn’t have a chance to relish in the adrenaline pumping through his veins, his eyes memorizing her movement patterns so he could follow the trail she was leaving for him.

Dust filled his nostrils, causing him to cough from the onslaught to his senses. The room smelled of old wood and mold. The building had long since been abandoned and there was clearly no interest in changing its state of disrepair. The boards creaked under each step that was taken and Jungkook mentally worried if the floor would crack and collapse right beneath him.

A beam of bright light blinded him and he hissed, moving his forearm to cover his eyes. 

“Yo, what’s the deal?!” 

His words sounded snappish, which hadn’t been his intention, but what did anyone expect when suddenly rendered unable to see?

“Sorry,” Nikita said, lowering the light to give him a chance to adjust to the darkness, “I wanted to make sure you were right behind me.” 

Jungkook rubbed his fists into his eyes gingerly, shaking his head to blink the golden spots away from his vision. “It’s fine.” 

She gestured with the flashlight toward the stairs. “Follow me. And watch your step.”

Everything in the building seemed ancient and forgotten. Jungkook swore he heard it groan in response to their presence there. It gave him an eerie sort of vibe that he wasn’t sure he wanted to really wrap his head around. 

Once they reached the ground floor, Nikita disappeared through a door to the right. It looked like an office building of some kind now that he got a better look at it. He could hear her roughly pulling at drawers from what he assumed were old metal filing cabinets. Jungkook took a lean against the door frame, folding his arms across his chest as more dust flew in the air from Nikita’s manic investigation methods.

“Need any help?”

She slammed a drawer closed and yanked at another one, fingers dancing over the folders. “I’m good.”

He shrugged, even though he knew she couldn’t see it. “So what is this place?”

“Used to be a Public Records office until everything became digitized and moved to the various data hubs all over the globe.”

“And now?”

Nikita pulled out a folder and sifted through the papers inside. “Now it’s a place for squatters and a go-between for Rebel units.”

Jungkook hummed in understanding. But something puzzled him.

“So why are we here?”

Turning to face him, she waved the envelope at him. “Gathering intel for another client.”

“Wait.” He stepped inside the room. “This isn’t an escort job, but a recon mission?”

Nikita grinned, shutting the drawer closed with her hip. “Yup.”

He frowned. “Then why was I hired for this? You do know that I’m a Runner, right?”

“I know.” She stuffed the envelope into her bag, using the beam of her flashlight to rifle through whatever contents were also inside. “I know exactly who you are, Jeon Jungkook.”

Jungkook didn’t know why, but he didn’t like what she was insinuating with those words.

Nikita pulled something else from her bag, but it was too dark for him to see. Using her other hand to secure the bag’s clasp, she stepped toward the window and slid it open. Jungkook watched her poking her head out, presumably to see if anyone else was coming. It was dark and most people had normal work schedules so there wasn’t a chance for anyone to be out after midnight. 

Well, except for them.

“It’s a waste.”

“What?” Jungkook slightly tilted his head, confused. “What is?”

“You left everything behind the same time I did, but all you’ve done is float through life without a care in the world.” She glanced at him from over her shoulder. “It’s a waste.”

Rolling his eyes, he frowned. “What the hell do you know?”

He didn’t appreciate her judgmental attitude toward him. It wasn’t like she knew him. It wasn’t like she understood what he’d gone through up until that point. Living off the grid wasn’t easy and it wasn’t for everyone. Sure, he could have gone back home and ponied up. He could have turned to those fighting against society’s rules and regulations, seeing refuge from a dying world. But he wasn’t about to let himself become dependent on anyone. Being dependent on others equated to marginalized freedom and Jungkook didn’t want that either.

Even if it he had to remain alone to maintain it.

“I know you’re a Runner,” she said, flashing a shit-eating grin at him, “so I suggest you do what you’re good at. Running.”

Jungkook wasn’t sure what she was getting at. But before he could question her further, something fell to the ground. It rolled across the floor and into the sliver of light that leaked in through the window from the streetlamp outside. 

It was a hand grenade.

“ARE YOU CRAZY?!” Jungkook barely heard his own voice through the panic cadence of his heartbeat. 

Nikita reached out to grab his hand, pulling him toward her. “RUN!”

They both tumbled out the window, rolling onto the grass in a tangle of limbs. They dislodged themselves from each other, frantically scrambling to their feet as they hurried to put as much distance between them and the building as possible. The heat from the explosion pressed against Jungkook’s back, forcing his body to lurch forward. Something cut the side of his face and he grunted as his shoulder collided with the concrete. He thought he heard someone calling him, but it was hard to make out from the soft ringing in his ears and the alarms going off.

“Shit,” he muttered as he sat up on all fours, shaking his head back and forth to chase away his rattled nerves.

Someone grabbed roughly at his jacket, yanking him up to his feet. His face was inches from Nikita’s, her stormy eyes reflecting the fire and smoke eating away at the building behind him.

“Come on,” she said, her hand reaching out to grasp his, “we have to go!”

He didn’t have time to yell at her. He simply followed her direction. Besides, he knew better than anyone that he couldn’t just walk away from this. Jungkook was an accomplice - willingness be damned. 

He was a Rebel now.

~ n.m. ~

She’d be lying if she hadn’t planned it out that way. Nikita never had any intention of outright asking Jungkook if he would join their cause. Instead, she chose to be a dirty bitch about it - forcing his hand and leaving him no other option but to stand at their side. The Rebels weren’t necessarily losing, but they weren’t winning, either. The more skilled people they had on their side, people like Jungkook, the more likely they would win against society’s preconceived notion of what “success” and “happiness” was.

Nikita did it because she knew that they had to have him. That she had to have him. She didn’t feel guilty about taking him away from the life he’d chosen for himself.

A month later, however, the guilt started rearing its ugly little head. Usually in the dead of night; when the urge to smoke overtook her. She puffed on a cigarette, her thoughts swirling around in her head like a busted washing machine in desperate need of repair. Minjae told her that she didn’t need to tell him the truth about that day; what her intention was. She normally never questioned Minjae or his motives.

Now? Another month passed. She wasn’t so sure anymore..

A strong gust of wind pushed up against her body, causing her to take a half a step forward. The wind was always powerful the higher a person was. But the rooftop of their hideout was the only place she could find any solace. More and more people were joining their cause, but more people meant less space. Maybe it was the former high-privileged snob in her, but she liked being able to have a little breathing room in her life.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were here,” a voice said from behind her. 

She turned to glance over her shoulder, seeing that it was Jungkook. Her brows furrowed, a soft ache building at the center of her chest. But she didn’t say anything. He took a step back, his hand reaching behind him so he could push the door back open.

Nikita exhaled a thin stream of smoke, tapping the ash off the side of the building. “Stay if you want.” She shifted her gaze back to look at the twilight sky. “You don’t have to leave.”

The door closed, but the sound of feet shuffling closer toward her caused her to release a silent breath of relief. She didn’t want the awkward feeling to continue between them, and in the last month Jungkook proved himself useful. He never demanded to leave, because the people around him wanted him to stay. It made Nikita wonder if he’d never felt a sense of community before now; if he’d always been alone.

She was decent enough not to ask.

“No assignments. That’s rare.” He said it so easily, like he’d been a Rebel for years.

Shrugging, she lifted the cigarette to her lips. “Can’t be busy all the time. Batteries need charging and all that shit.”

He chuckled, sidling up beside her but giving her at least three feet of space. Nikita cast him a sidelong glance, watching him lean against the railing with his forearms.

“Yeah, I guess.” 

Jungkook reached into his pocket and pulled out a toothpick. She raised a brow, unable to force back the smirk forming on her face. It was a habit she’d never understand, but it strangely suited him. She shook her head as he clamped his teeth over the twig, making it swivel back and forth with his tongue.

“What about you?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I’m heading out in two days.”

Nikita wouldn’t ask him where. It was better if she didn’t know. The less she knew, the less likely Jungkook would be compromised should something happen while he was away.

For a while, neither of them said anything. She finished her smoke, tossing the cigarette butt off the edge. Jungkook was focused on the starry night sky, so she knew he didn’t notice her looking at him. His hair shifted in back and forth motions from another gust of wind. He looked so lost in thought, yet completely relaxed.

Anything could happen between now and tomorrow. Jungkook could turn his back on them and possibly reveal everything he’d learned to the authorities. Or he could just get captured or killed. There were no guarantees in the world they were both fighting against and fighting for.

“I’m sorry,” Nikita said, surprised at herself with how suddenly the words came tumbling out.

“Huh?” Jungkook straightened up to his full height, flashing her a confused look. “What for?”

“I put us in that situation back then so that you’d have no choice but to come with us.” 

He appeared to not understand what she was getting at. Was he really so gullible? Or was he just that innocent? How had the world not broken him?!

Nikita closed her eyes tightly, biting her lower lip that was already beginning to tremble. “I purposefully set you up. I forced you to become a Rebel.”

She couldn’t see him, much to her relief. But the sound of her heart hammering roughly against her ribs drowned out the sounds of the city. If he was saying anything at that moment, Nikita was confident she wouldn’t have heard him.

“I know.”

Those two words pierced through her loudly pounding heartbeat. Opening her eyes wide, she jerked her head to face him. He was closer to her now, but still wearing that gentle expression. The one of someone who understood something that she hadn’t been able to glean. The kind of expression that told volumes about a person’s life.

About the pain they were forced to endure.

“I know you did. And that’s okay.”

She blinked up at him, gobsmacked by his words. “Wh-What?” 

How could he say that it was okay? What part of what she said was okay? As far as Nikita was concerned, none of this was okay!

“Because it was only after being here, I realized why you did. To me, that’s all that matters.”

Nikita’s brows furrowed in disbelief. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. It was like she’d lost the ability to speak or even formulate coherent phrases. 

He continued.

“I’m a Runner. You said it yourself, running is what I’m good at. People only ever needed me to run for them. Nothing more. Nothing less.” 

She watched him take a step toward her.

~ j.j. ~

Nikita looked like a deer caught in headlights. 

Jungkook felt a strange sensation in the pit of his stomach; like something was fluttering inside of it. He wondered if he looked the same. If he had that same expression on his own face. Jungkook hoped he didn’t, but he felt weirdly calm. He couldn’t quite place why, other than he believed everything he was saying at that moment. 

And he believed that Nikita would hear him; truly hear him.

Because for damn near two months, Jungkook couldn’t get Nikita out of his mind.

“My family didn’t care about me running away from my responsibilities. If they did, they would be looking for me now.” 

He took another step forward, his eyes flicking downward to see if Nikita was going to take a step back. She didn’t, and that strange feeling in his stomach intensified.

“My two siblings are making up for my shortcomings. They’re happy and so I kept running. Here. There. Everywhere. It never mattered where I was or how long I was gone. Because running is what I do.”

Nikita looked like she was really listening to him. He knew it because of how focused her eyes were; shaking.

“J-Jungkook,” she stammered. 

He knew he should take a step back. Reassess things and think about just what the hell was tumbling from his mouth. It wasn’t like he’d planned this and he hadn’t expected for her to apologize for making him a sucker. One day was all he needed to figure it out. After the initial internal battle he had with himself died down, Jungkook was planning to get the hell out of that place. He would play nice and then bounce. Simple as that.

But one day turned into one week. Then two. Then three. 

Until a month passed by.

He realized it hadn’t bothered him as much as he initially thought. Because in that short amount of time, he saw Nikita in ways that he was sure she didn’t realize was being showcased. Jungkook discovered every nuance about her as their paths crossed every single day. From the way she preferred hats with bills than beanies, to how she would scratch at the bridge of her nose when she was annoyed. She preferred dogs over cats, but had a special kind of love for horses. She liked dark liquors and she hated beer. Nikita hated mornings, but she would always get up early to see the sunrise before going back to sleep.

And she was one helluva free runner.

Taking one more step forward, there was now less than a foot of space between Nikita and him. Again, he looked down to see if she would step back. And again, she didn’t.

“For the first time in a while, no one wants me running anymore. And when I have to run, I know I have a place to run back to. Because there are people waiting for me.”

He reached out to grasp her wrists, feeling her pulse jumping with life beneath his palms. For a split second, he suddenly felt self-conscious that his hands might be cold, clammy, or all of the above. But Jungkook selfishly refused to let go. He would apologize later for it if she shoved him aside. 

Or off the building.

He waited - the soft clouds of breath meeting hers as she breathed out in sync with him. Nikita didn’t move or was thinking about what to do at that moment. Jungkook knew he needed to hurry and say what was churning inside of him. 

What he’d been wanting to say for almost a week now.

“Because people like you are waiting for me.”

His hands moved from her wrists, slowly gliding up her arms until his palms slid over the delicate curve of her shoulders. Jungkook even knew how strong she was under all the bulky clothes she wore. It was how people kept underestimating her. It was how she survived.

But even under that strength was a gentle and compassionate woman. A woman who cared about the people around her. A woman who decidedly left her comfortable entitlement to help anyone suffering under the injustice of the world’s system. A woman who cried in mourning for those who could not be with the ones they loved.

Jungkook’s hands cupped her neck, using his thumbs to stroke over Nikita’s jawline. He gently pressed them to her chin, lifting her face to his. He could see the tears forming in her eyes and he paused, feeling his own hands trembling. Could he afford to hesitate? Could he really let this moment pass by, only to fade away into the darkness where it would never return to see the light of day?

He had to keep trusting her. Trust that she would keep listening.

“Jungkook, what are you--?”

“I love you.”

Jungkook felt like his insides were going to fall straight out of him. He said it. His nerves felt liquefied, but he said it.

“W-What?”

“I love you, Nikita.”

Not wanting her to push him away, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. He felt her gasp in his mouth and he waited for her to retaliate. To kick and scream and threaten to toss him over the side to his death. He would have deserved it. His death would be justified.

But Nikita didn’t shove him to the side. No. And he lifted his lips from hers when he felt her hands cupping his elbows. What tears were in her eyes spilled down her cheeks. Jungkook saw her brows furrow, but there was a watery smile now on her face.

And then he kissed her again, harder. His hands left her face so he could wrap his arms around her, fully pulling her up against him. He needed her close. Closer than he’d ever been able to get to her. The need was terrible and he didn’t want to chase it away. He sucked in air through his nose, drinking in the subtle smell of her shampoo. Nipping and tugging at her lips between his teeth and tongue, he relished the soft taste of ash from the cigarette she smoked earlier. But there was a hint of peppermint. Nikita always ate a peppermint before smoking because she despised the taste.

Jungkook would continue his mission of getting her to quit.

They parted the kiss long enough to get air. He could just barely see her through the clouds of their breaths. Even in the dark, her eyes seemed to glow. He loved how Nikita always looked like she could see right through him.

“I fell in love with you. I don’t know how. I don’t know why.” He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers as their noses touched. “I just did. I just do.”

Turning to bury his nose into the curve of Nikita’s neck, he smiled against her skin.

“It’s okay if you don’t right now. We have as much time as we need to figure it out. Until then, just let me keep loving you as you are now. As I am now.”

Her body shook with how roughly she was nodding her head. Jungkook pressed his fingers against the back of her neck as he held her aloft. And for awhile, that’s all they did. Hugged each other. He could feel how hard their hearts were hammering against each other. All the anxiety and hesitation felt like it was bleeding out of him.

Nikita laughed a little. “Damn,” she whispered.

Jungkook smirked. “What?”

“Guess this means I love you too.”

They shared a laugh. He leaned forward to pull her into a hug. Jungkook appreciated how good it felt to know her arms were around him. It may have been a selfish beginning, but it wouldn’t be a selfish end.

He knew things would get harder from now on. But that was okay. Because the hole in his heart was full. 

Because he loved this woman in his arms.

BHQ Official Application

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Make It Right [BTS Mafia!AU]

Plot: “It’s always darkest before the dawn…” It’s a dog-eat-dog world in Seoul, South Korea. One has to dwell in the shadows in order to reach for the light. What are you willing to sacrifice in order to feel the sunlight on your face? What will it take to drag you back into darkness? How long will the journey be to make it right?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: Series | Mafia!AU | Crime!AU | Angst | Romance/Fluff

Pairings: Jin x OC | Taehyung/Hoseok x OC | Yoongi/Jungkook x OC

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Heavy Language, Angst, Smut, Slow Burn

Previous Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || Admin E’s WP || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 3,316  

Chapter 20: Silver Spoon

"They say it shouldn’t matter since we’re coming from the same place."

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Seoul – Hannam; Yongsan District South Korea

Jungkook cradled his glass of whiskey in his hands, his rings clinking against the crystal surface. There was a heavy atmosphere permeating throughout the house; thick and suffocating. So thick it could have been sliced open with a knife. Outside the occasional shuffling of house shoes on the polished floor, there was no other sound. Everyone either sat around nursing a drink or were moving around because they couldn’t keep still.

No one spoke.

Every so often, Jungkook’s eyes met Yoongi’s and, for a moment, all they could do was stare at each other. But it was always Yoongi who averted his gaze first, his body moving to occupy a different space in the main living area. Jungkook’s eyes followed him, watching and waiting for him to speak up about any part of what happened the other night. Nothing was said, however, because Hoseok’s aura practically bled out over the entire room – silencing any discussion before he could speak first.

No one had to say a thing. It was clear that something big was about to happen. Jungkook looked at his phone, waiting for the screen to light up but it never did. He hadn’t heard from Eden in a few days and there was a part of him that wondered if she’d already written him off as someone insignificant. His brows furrowed and he had to resist the urge to reach for his phone to message her.

Is she still angry? he thought, his fingers curling tighter around the glass.

The beep of the electronic lock at the front door alerted everyone. Those who weren’t already standing stood from their seats as Jimin entered the foyer. They waited for him to get into his house shoes while shaking off the cold from outside. He paused as he entered the main room, looking around at everyone peering back at him.

“Am I the last one?” he asked, looking to Namjoon.

“You are,” Namjoon replied easily while shaking his head, “but we all know why, so don’t worry about that.”

Taehyung approached Jimin, offering him a drink with his good arm. Jimin declined, making his way toward one of the couches just as Hoseok exited his office. No one made a move until he was seated, all of them falling into their seats soon after.

“Seokjin Hyung,” Hoseok began, looking straight at him as he spoke, “status report.”

Everyone watched Seokjin set a briefcase on the table, opening it and then handing out several manila envelopes to Hoseok. He quickly pulled out the paperwork inside, scanning it quickly before slipping them back inside. Namjoon turned the briefcase toward him so he could set them back inside.

“Good. Have the funds been transferred after our shares were sold?”

Seokjin nodded, closing the briefcase and setting it back down onto the floor. “They were transferred yesterday morning. I made sure that the members of the board would be self-sufficient since we pulled out from the company completely.”

Hoseok shifted his gaze to Yoongi. “And you, Hyung?”

“We reached a deal with our key broker in Chicago. I liquidated all of our assets in New York, LA and San Antonio.” Yoongi set his drink down on the table, reaching over Taehyung to hand him the tablet he always carried with him. “The funds were transferred this morning. Hard copies of the contracts were placed in our safety deposit box.”

Hoseok nodded, thumbing through the tablet before he handed it back to Yoongi. Jungkook met Yoongi’s gaze once more, but only for a split second as Hoseok spoke up again.

“Taehyung-ah,” he said, and everyone’s eyes shifted to look at Taehyung, “how are you holding up?”

Taehyung scratched the side of his nose and flashed his trademark boxy smile, shrugging off his injuries as if they were minor itches. He was on the mend, but his arm was still in a sling and he had to wear the brace around his chest for another week.

“Were you able to get your assignments finished?”

He nodded, handing Hoseok a thick manila envelope. “The clubs we owned in Incheon and Seoul were turning a big profit, so it wasn’t hard for us to make the sale. I even upped the price for the clubs in Seoul to get a little extra cash. The money was wired last night.”

Hoseok nodded, setting the envelope on the table. He clasped his fingers together as he turned to look at Jimin and Namjoon. “And you two?”

Jimin reached into his pocket and handed his phone to Hoseok. “In exchange for selling our spots in the casino, we’ll receive forty percent of all sales made for the next year. After that, it will be twenty-five percent for the next five years and then the contract will be fulfilled.”

Finally, Hoseok turned to Jungkook and he shifted involuntarily. “What about you, Jungkook-ah?”

Jungkook sighed, brushing his fingers through his hair as he set his glass on the table. “Construction is set to be completed in two months. We’ll be ready to unveil the new building in the coming new year.”

“And the boys? You reminded them to get their affairs in order, yes?”

“Yes, I did,” he said, his voice shaking a measure, “a few weren’t too happy about it, Hyung.”

Hoseok frowned. “They were told from the beginning about this happening eventually.”

“But Hyung, can’t we wait a little while longer?” He rested a hand on his knee. “For some of them, this is all they’ve ever known.”

“They’ve had five years to prepare. Some longer than that. They’ll be compensated.” Hoseok’s tone was cold and matter of fact. It was clear that he wasn’t in the mood to hear any talk going against their original plan. “That’s why we went to all this trouble to gather up so much money.”

“Hyung—”

“I’m done waiting, Jungkook-ah!” He cut him off and Jungkook leaned back slightly. No one moved and no one spoke.

“H-Hyung,” Jimin offered, reaching his hand out to grasp Hoseok’s wrist only to watch him wrench it away from him.

“No. We don’t have the time to waste anymore. We have to move, and we have to move quickly.”

“Is it because of the Jade Fangs?” Taehyung’s question tore over the building hostility, bringing everyone down to a certain level of calm.

Hoseok took a breath, sinking deeper into the cushions of the chair. Jungkook never saw Hoseok like this. He was usually the calmest out of all of them; the one who had his shit together ninety-nine percent of the time. The one who was trying to keep everyone in line when fights were on the brink of breaking out. For him to react in that manner meant that something was really wrong and the desperation in his eyes was hard to miss.

“Is that the reason, Hyung?” Jungkook asked, feeling the vein near his throat pulse.

Slowly, he rose to his feet and Jungkook stood with him. Everyone else remained seated.

“Hyung!”

“They’re making their move, Jungkook-ah,” said Namjoon as he stood up, placing a hand on Jungkook’s chest to stop him just as he took a step forward, “and they’re not fooling around about it either.”

A sharp burst of anger split across Jungkook’s chest as he glared at Namjoon, then to Hoseok. “So, we’re just going to run away? We’re going to expose our backs just when they’re ready to attack?”

Hoseok didn’t answer. Instead, he watched his older brother, their leader, folding his arms across his chest.

“That’s such bullshit, Hyung!” he shouted, throwing Namjoon’s hand off his chest. “We don’t have anything to fear from those toothless tigers! They’re all talk! Every last one of them!”

Seokjin rose to his feet, his brows knitting together with concern. “Jungkook-ah, settle down.”

He cut his eyes toward the oldest of them, teeth bared, and his fury clearly expressed. “Jin Hyung!”

“It’s true. They’ve gotten bold because they’re sure of themselves.” Seokjin pursed his lips together as he looked away, visibly turning things over in his mind. “We’ve tried to keep our activities under wraps for as long as possible, but this close to the end, they know there’s going to be a hole in Seoul’s defenses soon.” He met Jungkook’s gaze. “Gangnam and Yongsan are going to be a warzone.”

“Then let’s wipe them out,” Taehyung interjected, rubbing at the back of his neck, “then there won’t be anything to worry about.”

Jimin smacked his shoulder, causing Taehyung to hiss as he rubbed at it gingerly. “Would you shut-up? Just fucking look at you! Do you think you’re in any condition to be shit talking?”

Taehyung scoffed. “I wound up like this because of who, hm?” Jimin frowned and a smug look passed over Taehyung’s face. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“You wound up like that,” seethed Yoongi, “because you don’t know how to mind your own goddamn business.”

Taehyung’s eyes narrowed at Yoongi. “We wouldn’t even have this problem had we stomped those bastards out five years ago.”

Hoseok turned slowly, rounding on Taehyung. “That’s something a blithering idiot would say.”

“He’s not wrong, Hyung,” snapped Jungkook, causing the others to look at him, “we had the perfect opportunity to destroy them, but we held back. You held us back!”

Namjoon grabbed Jungkook by the front of his shirt, but Hoseok knocked him out of the way. As Namjoon stumbled a few steps to the side, Jungkook saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He saw Hoseok move and he held his hand up to catch the older man’s fist. So focused on his angry expression, something that normally didn’t rear its face in their home, Jungkook failed to see the second attack until it connected. Pain exploded around his solar plexus and the breath was knocked clean out of him. His vision blurred in and out of focus and the world fell on a tilt as gravity won out, his legs collapsing under him. Tears brimmed his eyes and he coughed hard, the urge to vomit at the forefront of his mind.

“Have you forgotten what kind of hell we were living in back then, Jungkook-ah?” Hoseok’s voice boomed, echoing inside his ear canals and his hand fell to the floor to steady himself. “Did you forget how many Jackals died to keep us alive? Because they believed in what we were trying to do for ourselves, for our families.”

Jungkook coughed again, the pain in his stomach mixing with the fire that churned inside of him. He half-growled, half-snarled as he lifted his head to glare into Hoseok’s icy stare. “No,” he groaned, “you did it for your families, Hyung.”

“Jungkook-ah,” said Yoongi, crouching down beside him. He reached around him to try and help him up but Jungkook shoved him off, causing the older man to blink down at him in surprise. “Jeon Jungkook!”

“You think money is some kinda substitute? You think that’s gonna make up for everything?” No matter how hard he tried, the tears leaked out from Jungkook’s eyes. “Toss an envelope at them and send them on their way? You’re abandoning them! We’re all they have and you’re just gonna throw them away like garbage!”

For a moment, he saw Hoseok’s icy expression melt and it seemed like he was coming back to himself. He looked at Jungkook for what he felt like was the first time all night. But there was nothing that could be said to calm the anger burning through Jungkook. Yet he watched Hoseok try; watched his boss, their brother, start to lean forward toward him.

“J-Jungkook-ah,” Hoseok stammered, but Jungkook was already on his feet.

He wiped angrily at his face, bumping shoulders with the others. They called for him, but he was past the point of listening to them anymore. Jungkook snatched his coat off the wall and slipped into his boots. Throwing the door open with a loud bang, he all but ran down the stone walkway that led to the main entrance gate to their house. His brothers were yelling for him, and he even heard a few trying to give chase. But Jungkook knew he was faster.

He’d always been the fastest.

His feet ate up the concrete as he ran toward the parking garage, hopping onto his motorcycle and revving the engine to life. Jungkook reached behind him and slammed the helmet on top of his head, the back-tire squealing, no – screaming with the rage that he wished he could have unleashed in the house. The headlight flared and he peeled out of the garage – the world speeding past him in a blur of motion and he didn’t look back.

Seoul – Cheongdam; Gangnam District South Korea

Jungkook parked his bike and ran. He didn’t care that he’d left his bike in some random parking lot. He just ran. He ran until his legs burned, until his lungs screamed in agony, and then he continued to run. He turned down one street, sweat soaking his shirt and slipping down his cheeks. The cold air stung at his pores, filled his mouth and shredded the inside of his esophagus.

Down another set of streets, he ran through crowds of pedestrians that were crossing the streets, and he jumped over benches and the dogs that people were walking. His legs pumped into the ground and the world grew dark around him. Streetlights illuminated the sidewalk and the headlight beams from cars almost blinded him. There were even a few close calls as he was almost hit by oncoming vehicles; their expletives matched with his own that he threw back at them.

He headed toward the residential area, past a children’s playground, and then for two more blocks he continued. Jungkook’s body protested, begged him to stop, but he pushed on and ignored the signs of misery that pulsed all over him.

Reaching a building, he blindly ran up the stairs and he stumbled forward, his elbows crashing into the stone, but he forced himself to crawl back up onto his feet. He jumped the last few steps until he was on the rooftop – her rooftop.

Jungkook staggered toward the door, almost losing his balance in the process. He dragged his feet forward, his body all but slamming into the door. Lifting one arm, he knocked on the door’s window until he lacked the energy to continue. Resting both his palm and cheek on the window, he could see his breath fogging up the glass.

“Noona,” he said softly, his voice barely audible from all the running he’d done, “open up. Are you there?” He turned his head so he could rest his forehead on the glass. “…please be there.”

After a few minutes, he slumped to his knees. His hands were pressed to the door, the will to continue pounding on it lacking within him. The only sound he heard, aside from his own ragged breathing, was the wind whistling harshly from that high up. At some point, the pounding of his heart drowned even that out until the darkness began to creep around his eyes.

“…Jungkook-ah, is that you?”

The voice perked him up, causing him to crane his neck so he could look over his shoulder. Standing there, holding several bags, was Eden. Her beanie was half on her head and the thick scarf she wore was wrapped several times around her neck. There was a grease stain across her cheek, stretching all the way to the bridge of her nose. Her breath came out in soft clouds as she scrutinized him.

Jungkook shakily got to his feet, his legs crying out from the abuse he’d forced them to withstand and took wobbly steps toward her. She remained standing where she was, not saying a word. He must have been a sight for her not to yell at him. He hadn’t seen her in days; hadn’t heard her voice in what felt like years to him.

Dirty, wrapped in a heavy coat, and annoyed. Just like when he’d first met her.

She’s so goddamn pretty…

Jungkook gave a weak smile. Then the world spun. He heard Eden gasp, the loud rattle of bags hitting the ground a muffled sound in his ears. He fully expected to hit the ground, but gravity was not granted its quarry for the second time that night. Small, but strong, arms held him upright – cradling him so that his weight wasn’t overwhelming her.

“What the hell, Jungkook-ah?!” Her voice held a mixture of aggravation and concern. Her hand slid over his forehead and he heard her hiss. “Jesus, you’re burning up!”

As she forced him to stand more by himself, Jungkook rocked back with all his weight – nearly falling backwards. She yelled and he felt her hands gripping onto his wrists. His legs were going to give out on him any second. Twisting his wrists, he tried to get her to let go but she held tighter.

And as the world zipped by him, Jungkook brought her down on top of him. For the second time that night, the wind was knocked from his lungs – both from impact and from Eden’s weight crashing onto him.

“Goddammit, Jungkook!” she bellowed, punching him in the chest, “What the hell is your problem, huh?!”

Jungkook let out a laugh that was soon followed by a small coughing fit. He closed his eyes and felt the tears slipping from the corners and into his ears. He heard Eden’s grunts stop and she fell completely silent. Still laughing, albeit weakly, he managed to open his eyes to look at her through his tears. Her brows were knit with worry.

“Hey, Jeon Jungkook,” she said, her cold hands touching his cheeks and then his forehead, “snap out of it, will you?”

He looked past her for a moment to gaze at the night sky. They were in the city and it was hard to see the stars. Especially from this high up. The city always drowned out the stars. For the first time in years, he missed the numerous stars that littered the vast expanse of the sky he once could see in the countryside.

For the first time in years, he missed his hometown…

“Are you listening to me?”

Eden’s voice cut through his nostalgia and Jungkook turned to focus his attention on the woman who continued to occupy his thoughts these last few months. Was it almost a year now? Was the year almost over?

She pursed her lips together – a deep expression of concern etching her features. Funny. He didn’t think he had ever seen her look like that.

He reached up to cup her cheek with one of his hands and she shrank back slightly, but not moving completely away from his touch. The pain he felt earlier seemed to fade with that realization.

“…goddamn, you’re beautiful.”

“W-What?” she stammered, blinking rapidly at him.

But he was done talking. And with what strength he had left, he slid his hand from her face to rest at the nape of her neck before pulling her down so his lips could meet hers. He felt her grip onto the front of his shirt, as though she were going to tear herself away. The muscles in his bicep grew taut, holding her in place until he felt her relax under his hold.

He kissed her slowly; carefully. Jungkook didn’t want to cross the line further than he already had. When her fingers loosened from his shirt, he took a chance and lifted his head to get a better taste of her. There was a moment when she stiffened, hesitated, before relaxing into the affection he was attempting to give her. 

More tears began to fall.

Her lips were soft, warm, and inviting.

They felt like home.