Venom | BTS

CHAPTER 16 | Red Handed

In your twenty-three years of living, you've spent the majority of it alone — whether that be at your own abusive home, or it be on the streets. Taehyung was right. You basically did whatever you could to get by.

You did a lot of stupid, stupid things, too.

Maybe it was for the thrill of it, for the fun of the chase, or maybe it was because you had a depressive death wish, but you never failed to get yourself into all kinds of trouble on the daily. You had connections, dealers. You knew people, and the second you got the chance, you turned around and betrayed them.

It didn't bother you. This world needed a taste of its own medicine, so you gave it back to them.

Along with all of those incredibly idiotic and possibly death-risking moments comes along your last drug deal up to date, the one that guaranteed your capture. You met a blond boy, Min Yoongi, dangerously, who followed you straight into the thick of it without a care in the world; despite not knowing him well in the two weeks you've been here, you wonder if he's just as crazy as you.

Taehyung said you willingly, if not dumbly, complied to be the R.I's spy, and you could not deny that.

You did it for a reason, though — you made that decision because sadly, yes, you had no other future ahead of you, and, yes, you wanted to ensure the safety and prosperous future of the women of your country.

You don't know what possessed you to believe Kim Taehyung at all, but, alas, you did, and here you are.

Figuring out all his lies like the bad bitch you are.

You sigh to yourself, bringing a hand up to touch the bruise along your jaw, just to put it back down. It's the morning after the mission, and personally, you're shocked that nobody's bombed the warehouse yet. You weren't exactly the most discreet about the mission, but you can at least say you tried to be.

The members have not pestered you since you retired to your room, curling up in your bed after taking a long shower. You run a hand through your clean, [H/T] [H/C] locks, the strands cascading in ribbons of scented lavender and sage brushing against your neck.

You wear a fresh pair of clothes, some skinny blue jeans and a plain t-shirt. You fiddle with the hem as you go up to the dresser if you bedroom, blowing out hot air. 'These men do not know how to shop for women.'

You make a sour face knowing they shopped for you beforehand, your concrete knowledge that Taehyung went out to scout you, kidnap you, and bring you back to his base just to make you his spy. It sounds unbelievable, like some shitty Wattpad fanfiction you'd read in middle school.

But who told him? Who deliberately spilled all of the information about yourself to this strange man and then encouraged him to take you in? To use you?

Oh, no, you won't allow yourself to be used. Your position in this freaky ass anti-governmental organization is going to be stood upon by you and you only. You will state your place. Nobody else will do that for you, whether it was pre-planned or not.