𝑨𝒍𝒑𝒉𝒂 / BTS (OT7) x Reader

[ Srong men ]

Being born on the darkest sides of my city wasn't as bad as it sounds. There were always my mother and older brother by my side

Our block was the strategic point, the union of two enemy gangs: The Red Tails and The Guards. But my house was a neutral place, everybody knew it.

My brother learned from our father how to fix every single kind of weapon that circulated in those neighborhoods until our father passed away, then my brother kept the repair work, with my mother as the administrator and me as his pupil.

Sometimes scary men come to our house, asking to fix this or that gun, to sell them bullets, or just to buy any gun that reached our hands when they needed money.

I had no other hobby but disassembling and reassembling each weapon that touched my hands, some time later I learned how to upgrade their functioning, and later I was able to work on some prototypes of weapons and explosives with all of the items I had at home.

— If we weren't here, — My brother said once as he watches how I work on a little explosive device. — You could've been a good engineer or something like that.

I'll take those words at heart further on.

The fateful day, a Friday the 13th, a couple of blocks down my house was the scenery of a scramble between The Guards and Red Tails. Somehow, a seriously injured man landed on our doorstep, asking for shelter while it all calmed down. We didn't know that was one of the Guards' guys but we agreed to treat his wounds so he could leave immediately. However, the moment my mother started to clean the bullet wound, three big men broke into my house, guns in hand, and ready to shoot anything that dared to move.

The Red Tails were now at my house, threatening to kill us if we helped the injured man.

— We're not helping him. — My brother said.

— That old woman is. If you help our enemy, you become one to us too. — A bald guy talked.

— This is neutral land! You can't come and try to kill us! — I said, not so sure if what I felt was anger or fear.

— Shut up or the old woman dies!

— Yoongi-ah... — My brother looked at me, his eyes dripping fear. — Please, leave. — He talked now to the bloodied man on the floor.

He hardly stood up, dragging his heavy body to the entrance, and just as one of his feet stepped outside the place, the bald man shot him twice. The body felt exactly outside our doorstep.

— He died not in your neutral land. — He mockingly pointed to the dead body. —Now fix this shit. — He threw his gun over the table we worked on.

My brother immediately put his hands to work.

— Hyung, don't! He killed a man at our front door!

I tried to reason with my brother, that man didn't deserve our help. If there's something my father taught me before passing away, it would help the ones that I respect, and that man surely didn't deserve any help.

— Kid, — One of the dudes behind the gun's owner talked to me. — If you don't shut the fuck up now, I'll shoot your mommy.

— Hyung! They're disrespecting us! Stop! — The man that previously threatened me, shot my mom in her arm, she screamed in pain but I went to shake my brothers arm. — Hyung... — I mumbled.

— Let me work, Yoongi-ah.

He said, looking down, but from this distance, I could see how his desperate tears fall over his current job.

I couldn't believe how he could ignore completely the only value that our father instilled in us. Working for disrespectful men with the same knowledge our progenitor shared with us.