Vengeance Is Mine | Kim Taehyung x Reader

chapter 8 .bunny

It's six in the evening. The ride back is silent, heavy with exhaustion. I cradle my arm against my chest; the pain spikes each time I move it. When I fell earlier, I'd caught myself on that hand, and now every small shift reminds me. Beside me, Jungkook sits stiffly, his jaw locked. He's hurt too, though he's not saying a word. The quiet between us is thick.

In no time, we reach home.

As soon as the car pulls up, I spot Ian and J-Hope near the trucks. The rest of the boys are already gathered, circling the massive containers like vultures about to feast. Sparks crackle when they shoot the locks; the heavy clang of metal reverberates as the iron door gives way. I climb out of the car slowly, my body stiff, and move to stand with the others as the door groans open.

"Just in time," Jimin says, smirking as he sees us.

"Hurry up," Jungkook mutters, brushing dirt from his clothes.

Jimin and RM climb inside, tugging at the first box stacked neatly in the truck. The boxes are navy blue, identical, endless rows of them filling the truck like a treasure vault. They pop one open—and then freeze.

Jimin's eyes go wide, his mouth dropping open. RM lets out a low whistle.

"Holy... shit," RM breathes, wearing the exact same expression.

"What's in there?" J-Hope asks, curiosity making him bounce closer.

Jimin doesn't answer at first. He just pulls something out—a bundle of crisp bills, fat and thick in his hand. His grin spreads wide, mischief dancing across his face.

Gasps ripple through the group.

"Is that real?" Suga pushes past, flipping open another box. And then another. His voice rises with every discovery. "Is that... real?"

J-Hope joins in, opening a different crate, and the sight stuns us all: stacks upon stacks of money, piled so high it feels unreal.

"Wahh... this is..." J-Hope's voice trails in disbelief. Then he swallows hard, his cheer dimming. "...illegal."

"We should hand this over to the UN," Taehyung says, his tone clipped, practical.

"Can't we just take one box? We found it first," I mutter, leaning my back against Ian with a pout.

RM bursts into laughter. "You're funny."

"We deserve it," I press on, folding my arms. "I'll go shopping."

Jin chuckles, ruffling my hair like I'm a child. "Aishh... this girl. I'll get you whatever you want. But let's leave this, alright?"

I huff but nod, still pouting.

J-Hope claps his hands. "We'll handle things here. You guys relax."

RM and Suga stay behind near the trucks to coordinate, while the rest of us head inside. Ian loops his arm under mine, steadying me carefully. Jungkook limps ahead, Taehyung matching his pace to support him.

Inside, Jimin is already bustling about, arranging first-aid kits neatly on the table. Jin appears from the kitchen with a huge bowl of steaming water and towels.

They guide us to the couch. I sit down gingerly, still cradling my arm. Ian kneels to untie my shoes and socks. My arm throbs sharply with every small movement.

"Jungkook-ah, does your butt hurt?" Jin asks, deadpan but clearly suppressing a grin.

Jungkook glares at him, muttering under his breath.

I peel off my condenser vest and jacket, left in just my half-sleeve black tee. Jimin crouches beside me, frowning as he examines my elbow. Blood streaks across my skin, a raw gash stretching uglier than I'd realized.