Venom | BTS

CHAPTER 10 | Rich Bitches

You remember it all.

The day you registered his full lips and fluffy dark brows, the way his soft brown eyes would squish up when he would laugh at his own crappy jokes. His hair had always been dark naturally, his broad shoulders bringing out his silky locks; he carried an effortless look to him, whether he really tried to look nice that day or not.

He was your brother.

You remember the nights he would shield you from the raging hand of a drunken father, shouting slurs and curses towards you as your mother shrieked and cried. He'd take the beatings for you. He'd take the burns from the cigars, the slaps, the bruises, the stabs from broken, forgotten beer bottles.

It happened so often you grew numb to it. Your mother eventually could no longer protest for him to stop, a silent voice in the static of the moment. Seokjin was not always successful; it was often that you took the hits for him instead.

And then he left. He fucking left.

You quietly smoke a cigarette, sitting on the back of an open black van with Yoongi beside you. His knees are up to his chest as he plays with his white lighter, clearly not in the mood for a smoke.

"Can't believe Jimin gave you cigarettes," you hum in thought. "Maybe he's not as much of a dick than I thought."

"Yeah," Yoongi blows out hot air. "Maybe."

You haven't been waiting out here long. It's the night of the heist, and although you should be worried, you're not. The cool nighttime air coats your skin, filtering through your dress and sending chills all over your body.

Yeah. A dress.

"Lookin' good, [Y/N]," a voice chirps. You perk up, meeting eyes with Jung Hoseok, who carries a few rifles and guns in his hands. One of which, you now recognize to be an acid gun. As he steps into the back of the van and loads in the weapons, you sigh.

"Thanks."

Hoseok gets out of the van, nodding to you with a heart-shaped smile before grabbing a few guns from a figure wearing a typical tech suit. Seeing his raven hair, you slump in your seat, forcing your eyes to stare at your heels.

If you didn't, you're afraid you might have grabbed one of the guns in the vans and shot him dead.

Seokjin's footsteps tap away, Hoseok approaching the van once more to load in some more weapons and what appears to be a med kit.

You take another puff of your cigarette. "Why are you loading up? It's no guarantee you'll be needed, y'know."

"The boss said you'll need us if you find the men Song kidnapped anywhere, anytime during this mission, and if you choose to save them," Hoseok replies, fastening the guns into a holder attached to the wall. He places the med kit and other supplies along a single long shelf near the bottom of the wall. "Better safe than sorry."