We finally reached home. Ian and J-Hope rushed downstairs the second they heard us, scanning us head to toe like worried parents. Cuts, bruises, a few scrapes — nothing serious, but enough to make us look like we'd crawled out of a warzone. They didn't say much, just silently fetched the first aid kit and ice packs, patching us up with the kind of care that made me realize how exhausted I truly was.
Jungkook and I collapsed on the couch, my head resting against his chest. My hands still burned from gripping guns instead of fists, knuckles sore and trembling even under the cold ice Ian pressed against them. Taehyung, Yoongi, and Jin disappeared upstairs to wash off the night, leaving the living room heavy with the smell of sweat and gunpowder.
Two hours later, Namjoon and Jimin returned, the "after-situation handlers," as Jimin liked to call themselves. Yoongi massaged Jimin's tense shoulders, scolding him softly for skipping meals. The banter between them sounded almost domestic, and for a fleeting second, I wondered if there was more to their bond than just brotherhood. But I swallowed the thought.
Taehyung wandered down next — loose shorts, an oversized shirt, headphones half-dangling from his neck. He plopped onto the couch opposite us, eyeing Jungkook and me with a wrinkled nose.
"You both stink," he muttered. "Go shower before I suffocate."
We rolled our eyes in unison.
Jin animatedly recounted our earlier fight, making the whole ordeal sound like slapstick comedy. Even J-Hope, between chuckles, admitted, "That old man wasn't just some dealer. He smuggles weapons, drugs — powerful as hell. We're lucky we made it out."
"Lucky?" Jungkook scoffed. "We missed him. That's not lucky."
"True," Namjoon said. "But we did rattle him. And that counts."
"But we should've caught him," Taehyung and I muttered — at the exact same time.
Our eyes snapped toward each other, wide.
Again, as if cursed, the next words spilled out of both our mouths together: "Damn we missed him."
Jungkook sat up, startled. "What the hell was that?"
The others blinked at us.
"Strong telepathy!" Jimin teased, poking Taehyung in the ribs.
"Shut up!" Taehyung and I shouted in perfect sync, only making it worse. Our mouths dropped open, stunned at ourselves.
"It's confirmed," Yoongi said coolly.
"I ship them," Jin added, smirking.
"JIN!" Taehyung and I roared again. Ian and Jungkook howled with laughter.
But my phone buzzed, pulling me out of the moment. A single message lit the screen:
"TONIGHT."
The blood drained from my face. I raised my eyes to Ian — he'd gotten the same message. His smile faltered, and the playful air in the room curdled into tension. Without a word, he took my hand, and we slipped upstairs.
Inside his room, I paced, palms clammy. Ian spoke briefly on the phone before hanging up.
"What do you mean 'tonight'?" My voice cracked.
"It's exactly what you think," Ian said quietly.
"This is too soon. We usually get a week's notice—"
"They know about our plan. They're forcing it early." He cupped my cheeks, his thumb brushing away the fear I couldn't hide.
"Brother... are you alright?"
YOU ARE READING
Vengeance Is Mine | Kim Taehyung x Reader
Fanfiction⚠️ WARNING: EXTREME MATURE THEMES ⚠️ This story is intended for mature audiences and contains themes of violence, gore, abuse, rape, death, depression, self-harm, and anxiety. Reader discretion is advised. New York is the most expensive city in the...
