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entishramblings · 4 years

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The Cruel Nature of the World [Legolas X Reader]

A.N: So here is another Legolas one shot because I am immensely skilled at procrastinating my fic and ignoring my ikr responsibilities!!! We love that!!!!

Request: anon — hii, if you’re taking requests can I ask for a Legolas X Reader where the reader is kind of touch starved...and really needs some soft gentle touches? Maybe one big with the fellowship she’s sitting next to him and something happens?

Pairing: Legolas X Reader

Summary: (Y/N) joins the fellowship and is focused on her own struggles. Legolas wants to comfort her. The fellowship teases him for being sweet on her.

Word count: 1,830

Warnings: themes of depression?

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST

The moon had risen high against the blackness of the sky and it’s light pooled upon the weary group, offering solace from the dark. It was then when the fellowship finally decide to rest. Aragorn had picked a spot tucked into the side of a rather large mountain, where the vastness of the stone wall and adjacent forestry provided cover from those who might seek what they carried. The group could be seen from no sides and, quite frankly, the shelter was a comfort to them all.

Sam had built a fire and they eagerly gathered around it to siphon the warmth and eat a hearty meal. (Y/N) leaned her back against the sleek stone that towered above them and stretched her legs towards the flames. Her somber eyes gaze upon the stars while she waited patiently for a plate of food to be passed to her. Here, she let her mind wander.

The cruel nature of the world did not spare (Y/N). Her life was anything but easy. Alone and the run—where she hid from fear, from guilt, from regret, from her past. She was tired. Tired of the darkness that seemed to follow her through all the centuries that she had lived. Tired of all the death and destruction she witnessed. Tired of the pain. Tired of fighting. Tired of killing. There was no escaping it, so why had she even bothered concealing herself from the dreadfulness of it all? But now, it was unavoidable. The time had come to change direction—to sprint towards the ruthlessness of the shadows. That is why (Y/N) joined the journey to destroy the ring. That is why she chose to pledge her life to the quest.

The scent of crispy sausage and beans filled her nostrils as a plate was held before her, drawing her from her thoughts. She moved her gaze from the lights in the sky to the one who offered her a meal.

Legolas stood, towering over her, with a knowing expression upon his face. He lowered the plate as a gesture for her to take it, which she gratefully accepted.

“The boundless freedom of the sky fascinates us all,” he stated as he sat down next to her, placing his own meal in his lap.

The elven woman raised her brows and nodded in the direction of Merry and Pippin, “Well, maybe not all of us.”

Legolas lifted his head to see what she was motioning at. And sure enough, she was correct. The two hobbits were more interested in attempting to stick their sausages up their nostrils then contemplate the wonders of the sky. The Mirkwood Prince couldn’t help but crack a smile. How they came to think up this ridiculous activity with their food, he knew not.

The two elves ate their meals in silence for the blonde ellon didn’t know what to speak of. It was very rare for (Y/N) to carry a conversation, no matter how many times Legolas had tried. She seemed to be in a world far off—always sharpening her countless weapons and living in the crevices of death and despondency. He could see the emptiness in her eyes and the dread in her soul. She viewed the world as a vicious place; one with no comfort and no warmth. Quite frankly, this saddened the blonde Prince. There was more to existence than loneliness. He was sure the others noticed her ideology too, for many times they tried to engage with her but she shoved them off. Nevertheless, Legolas was not yet willing to give up on her; and sitting directly beside her, in quite close proximity, was a start.

.....

Plates were collected and the low singing voices of Boromir and Aragorn hummed through the air. The deep tones resonated within them all and it gently lulled them into a relaxed state.

It was not long before Legolas felt a slight weight upon his shoulder. He slowly shifted his peripheral vision and was surprised to see that is was the head of the worn-down elleth. Really, what else was he expecting? An orc?

Legolas was still as he focused on the sound of her steady heartbeat and gentle breathes. It was different to witness her in this state. Not once on their journey had she sought physical comfort. Quite frankly, Legolas couldn’t remember any time that she had even touched one of them. But now, in her sleep, she seemed so tranquil and welcoming of his warmth; and he was glad to give it to her. The corner of the Prince’s mouth tugged upward. He was rather pleased that she chose to use him as a pillow. He would be lying if he said it didn’t feed into his pride. He had wished thousands of time that he could pull her into his embrace and take away her suffering. Furthermore, Legolas had desired this closeness for a long time. He too craved consolation from the horrors of the quest.

The Prince’s brows furrowed slightly when a thought crossed his mind. The position she was in couldn’t be comfortable. He shifted and ever so carefully lowered her head into his lap. Legolas was shocked that she didn’t wake and push a blade again this throat.

In her unconscious state, a barely audible whimper escaped her lips and her fist clenched onto the fabric of his trousers. Legolas lips parted; the sound was so heartbreaking. He wondered if her dreams were also haunted. Hesitantly, the elf rested his hand on her head. He began to run his fingers through her smooth locks in hopes to provide some relief. As Legolas did this, he examined her appearance. Without the ever present angry scowl on her face, she looked peaceful—well as peaceful as one could get during these dark times. The curve of her jaw molded her structured features nicely. Her eyelids would fluttered occasionally, like a bird about to take flight; and her plump pink lips were were parted, like raspberries plucked to early. She really was beautiful, as all elves were.

Suddenly, the raking sound of Aragorn sharpening his sword with a metal file stopped. Heat rose up to Legolas’s cheeks and ears as he felt eyes boring into him. Ever so slowly the elf lifted his head. The Ranger’s body was frozen and his eyes were glued to the pair of elves with a surprised accusatory look. This, of course, summoned the attention of the rest of the company.

Boromir was the first to speak with amusement upon his tone, “So the wolf doesn’t bite...”

A teasing smiled plastered across Aragorn’s face. Legolas inwardly groaned; he surely was to hear an earful from his friend latter.

The uncrowned Ranger replied to the Gondorian, “Well, she doesn’t bite elf boy over there.”

A loud gleeful cackle erupted from Gimli. How it didn’t wake (Y/N) and the hobbits was a mystery.

Legolas rolled his eyes in attempt to hide the embarrassment, but he was sure the group could see right through him.

Gandalf, who was smoking his pipe, chided the men, “Oh, let the elflings seek comfort from each other for these are dark times we live in.”

Legolas sent a grateful smile in the old wizard’s direction, but regretted it when a glimmer entered Gandalf’s gaze and he continued speaking, “Maybe we will have some little ones in the near future to bring joy to us all?”

The Mirkwood Prince was positive his face was as red as a midsummer’s cherry at this point.

This could not get any worse.

.....

As the journey went on Legolas’s friends did not stop the taunting jests. Whenever the two elves arms brushed together or sat beside each other the men sent teasing looks their way. Of course, (Y/N) didn’t even notice. Aragorn went as far as constantly forcing them to complete daily tasks together such as hunting and scouting. It was embarrassing really. Even the hobbits caught on!!

It wasn’t until Pippin opened his mouth that the groups plans were revealed to (Y/N). The small hobbit and elven woman were gathering fire wood when Pippin spoke, “So (Y/N), do you like Legolas?”

The woman tilted her head, “What prompts you to ask such a question?”

The gleeful child-like being laughed, “Well, yesterday when your back was turned Strider was making kissy faces at you and Legolas!”

“HE DID WHAT?!” She hollered.

Pippin, surprised at her outburst dropped the sticks he was holding, “As...as I just said he—“

She shook her head, “Hush, hush. I heard you the first time.”

(Y/N) stormed off towards the camp and the hobbit quickly scurried behind her—struggling to pick up the assortment of logs.

All heads turned as she, visibly pissed, marched right up to Aragorn. She balled her hand into a fist and punched him right in the jaw. “THAT IS FOR BEING AN ASSHOLE!” She clocked him again, “AND THAT IS FOR ENJOYING IT!”

Aragorn had a confused and shocked expression upon his face as he wiped blood from his lip.

The sound of an amused chuckled from Boromir drew her attention. She stormed up to him and kicked him hard in the shin, “AND THAT IS FOR GOING ALONG WITH IT!”

(Y/N) then turned her head towards Legolas, “And you—“

She made her was towards the elf with long strides and jabbed her finger in his face, “How dare you not tell me of this!!!”

The Prince’s eyes were wide with shock, “I...I—“

She interrupted him, “Why?! Why didn’t you tell me?!”

He moved his lips to speak but no words left his mouth.

She tilted her head, “Unless.....unless it’s because you are embarrassed....” Her lips parted and the looming question tumbled from her mouth. “You...you fancy me?”

All eyes were on them at this point. Legolas swallowed dryly and every so slightly nodded his head.

Without warning, (Y/N) grasped both sides of his face and yanked his head towards her. She smashed her lips against his and he froze in shock. Time stood still for a moment, but the realization of what was happening finally hit him. Legolas snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her form against his. (Y/N) felt the rush of helpless thirst flood her as their mouths danced against each other. It had been so long since she touch another with care, but never had she experienced this kind of intimacy. She tangled her hands in his soft blonde locks while gladly inviting his warmth to infect her being and bring solace to the turmoil within her soul. She would never admit it, but she had needed this. She had craved this.

If it wasn’t for the woof whistles and hoots from the rest of the fellowship they probably would have continued. However, the two reluctantly pulled apart with flushed cheeks and swollen lips. They did not break eye contact; instead, they took comfort in each other’s tight hold. Maybe, just maybe, the cruel nature of the world wasn’t so menacing.

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thebiasrekkers · 4 years

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Sincerely, Yours - JJK

For the @btswriterscorner - Amor Fabula Launch Project in celebration of the month of Valentine’s Day!

Plot: Jeon Jungkook hails from humble origins, his family ranked as Laborers. Since he is the youngest of three children, his time for the lottery has not come. But when it does, he refuses to conform to society’s system and runs away. Disowned, he’s now become a fugitive, taking on odd jobs here and there as a “runner-for-hire”. What he doesn’t realize is that he will find love in the most unexpected place.

Rating: PG-13 // SFW

Genre: dystopian!au/dystopian themes | angst | romance/fluff

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Female OC (Nikita Meyers)

Warnings: Strong language, vandalism, violence, interracial/intercultural relationship

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 7,607

AN: This is the companion piece to my first story, Touch In The Dark. This is the “rebel” view of what transpires in the world that I built. In all honesty, I think I may like the MYG version a little more, but I think it’s mostly from my love of hurting my own feelings. I still had a lot of fun with this one and I hope you all enjoy it. Writing for Jungkookis is always a good time. All reblogs, critiques/reviews, comments and affection are accepted! Happy reading!

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

~ j.j. ~

Jungkook swung his legs back and forth as he sat on the edge of a nearby building. He whistled a tune to himself, a song from a life he could barely remember these days. A former Laborer, now turned Runner, Jungkook could say that he left a life that he knew wasn’t meant for him. The Class system was such a bogus way to create order and balance in the world. The Blue Bloods stayed in the upper tier and those born in poverty or with lesser means were meant to work for the rest of their days. Throw in The Lottery Bill and that was just the cherry on top of a fucked up sundae.

A soft breeze pushed against his form as he watched the sky transform into a mesh of warm colors: pinks, purples, oranges and yellows. The sun was starting to set and the world’s light would dim, blanketed by the cobalt sky littered with the few stars he was only allowed to see as he ran from rooftop to rooftop. Running free, no longer tethered to the rules of the world that dared to shackle him to a life of meaninglessness.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out, he scrolled through the messages and noticed the priority one at the very top. Brushing his fingers through his hair, he sighed quietly as he glanced over the message. His newest client was scheduled to meet him in an hour. It was a standard escort job. It wouldn’t be too hard and the pay was decent.

In their society, it was a crime to “fall in love” with anyone. Period. Not even the spouse that was chosen during an individual’s Lottery drawing. Love fueled emotions that often led to the ruins of others. Passion had the potential to overshadow logic and reason. When logic and reason were cast aside, only terrible things happened. Emotions were just bad things and led to bad times.

Jungkook didn’t buy into that horseshit.

It was the main reason he abandoned his station in life and lived in the moment. He didn’t worry about yesterday. He could care less about tomorrow. Today was all that mattered and all that would matter when it was finally said and done.

He slid his thumb over the screen, dialing the number of his new “job” detail. The man answered quickly, interrupting the second ring.

“Is this Jeon Jungkook?”

Jungkook smirked at the hushed tone in the man’s voice. “It is. Is this Min Yoongi?”

“Yes,” he replied softly, as if trying to gauge Jungkook’s own tone, “were you able to secure safe passage for both my wife and me?”

Clambering to his feet, he dusted off the backs of his weathered jeans and knocked a bit of dirt off his boots. “That’s not my area of expertise, I’m afraid. That was taken care of by a different handler.”

He knew he was being a little shit, but sometimes it was all about asking the right questions.

There was a semi-long pause from the other end of the line, followed by a slow sigh of what could be presumed as mounting exasperation.

“So why was I directed to you?”

Jungkook’s grin grew a little wider. “Because I’m the one who’s going to get you out in one piece.”

“I see,” Yoongi said, as if he was mulling over something, “so you’re a Runner.”

It wasn’t a question.

“That’s right.”

“I just hope you’re as fast as that mouth of yours.”

He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. “I’m faster, trust me.” Pushing back the sleeve of his jacket, he spied the time. “I’ll meet you at the Square in half an hour. Don’t be late.”

And without waiting for a reply, Jungkook ended the call. Pulling out his earbuds, he connected the jack to the phone and slipped the buds on. It didn’t take him long to find the song he wanted, cranking up the volume as the intro crescendoed slowly. Inhaling lungfuls of air, he stretched his arms out wide and then raised them up so they were parallel with his head. Once he loosened up the muscles, he rolled his neck and hopped up and down - shaking his arms for good measure.

He always had to psyche himself up for things like this.

As soon as the balls of his feet hit the ground, Jungkook lunged forward. Up and over the edge of the roof. The world rushed by him in a blur of motion, his dark hair flying off his forehead. The night was cool, but the wind stung his eyes - making them water. He quickly wiped at them, curling his body inward and then extending his limbs. The concrete scraped at the pads of his fingers, but it didn’t take him long to realign his body, forcing his lower half to swing off to the side so that he could catch the railing of the fire escape.

The bars rattled violently when his heels planted themselves onto the platform, but he was already climbing up the bars to reach the next rooftop. Once Jungkook made it over the edge, his legs pumped the ground in tandem with his heavily beating heart.

Unconsciously, his mouth spread into a wide open smile.

Free-running. They couldn’t have called it something better if they tried.

Sweat broke out across his brow and the pulse of the song’s bass seemed to reverberate throughout his entire body. With every jump, lunge, catch and pull he performed, Jungkook’s elation only seemed to climb. It would be too soon if he could never run as free as he was now.

Heaving and halfway covered in perspiration, Jungkook arrived at the designated meeting spot within fifteen minutes. It gave him just enough time to grab a bottle of water from a nearby vending machine, emptying half the contents over his head and soaking his hair. Onlookers peered at him curiously, but he didn’t pay them any attention. He almost never did. He drained what was left in the bottle, savoring the feeling of re-hydrating himself.

Craning his neck, he located a nearby waste bin and was about to toss the bottle into it - arms stretched like he was shooting a basketball into a hoop.

He stumbled forward suddenly, his body pushed forward from an unexpected impact. Grunting, he quickly pivoted on his heels to see who was responsible, but all he caught sight of was a ball cap flying in his line of sight as auburn curls flew past him. Jungkook reached out and snatched the hat out of the air as the owner turned to catch a glimpse of him.

Her dark gray eyes glared at him, catching Jungkook off guard. Despite living in South Korea, Jungkook was used to foreigners. But he certainly didn’t remember seeing someone with those eyes and soft caramel skin. Her hair looked dyed, but it strangely suited her.

Jungkook took a step forward, holding her hat out to her. Instead of taking it back, she continued to shift her gaze from him and then to the hat. He grinned.

“Not even a thank you, huh? You don’t want this back?” He waved the cap back and forth, as though he were trying to keep a cat’s attention on him. “Is this mine now?”

He hadn’t seen her move. In fact, he didn’t even realize she’d closed what small distance existed between them. Not until Jungkook felt a soft burst of pain near his stomach. The wind was knocked from him almost immediately and all he could manage was a wide-eyed stare at her.

She grinned, twisting her fist into his stomach a little more. “Not a chance, you fucking tool,” replied the girl.

Jungkook collapsed to one knee when she took a step back, her hat not back in her possession. He struggled to reclaim what air was stolen from him, one dark brown eye glaring up at her. Not to say that women were weak, but he hadn’t expected a punch from a pretty girl to hurt this much.

Hopping back on one foot, she waved the hat at him in a farewell gesture before sliding it back onto her head. She turned and bolted from the square without so much as a second glance at him. He coughed, rubbing at his chest in an attempt to regulate his breathing again.

Wow, what a bitch, he thought, but Jungkook found himself smirking once the pain subsided.

Maybe he was a glutton for punishment.

“Are you alright?”

The voice jarred him from his thoughts and he quickly scrambled to his feet. He was face to face with his temporary charge, Min Yoongi. Standing beside him was a woman with dark brown curls, hazel eyes, and mocha skin. She peered at Jungkook curiously, her hand laced through Yoongi’s. She was also a foreigner from what he could tell, and well-known through the news as the “Charity Selection” picked from The Lottery two years ago.

He folded his arms across his chest. “This might be a little difficult.”

Yoongi lofted a brow. “And why is that?”

“Well,” Jungkook began, taking a few steps toward them before circling around both of them, “your wife’s kinda popular.”

The older man narrowed his eyes. “So you’re not going to be able to help us?”

“I didn’t say that.” He held a hand up and then waved it through the air, as if shooing away a gnat. “I just said that it’ll be a little difficult. Not impossible.” Jungkook met their gazes and grinned. “I got this. Trust me.”

~ n.m. ~

“Nikita, that was reckless.”

Removing the baseball cap, she roughly ran her fingers through her curls while scoffing. She carelessly tossed the parcel onto the table. “What does it matter? I got you what you asked for.”

The man seated at the table steepled his fingers, dark eyes peering over his knuckles at her. Nikita waited for him to say something, but he merely sighed and began to untie the twine wrapped around the brown paper packaging. It was his way of dismissing her, but letting Nikita know that she wasn’t completely off the hook. He’d find a way to pay her back and it wouldn’t be pretty.

She knew this because it wouldn’t be the first time.

Not wanting to press her luck, Nikita quickly vacated the office and closed the door behind her. She rested her shoulder against the door frame, mentally kicking herself for what she’d said. She knew she didn’t mean it, and yet she continued to come off as cold and unfeeling in these situations. Nikita was about to slam her head into the door when someone suddenly cleared their throat beside her.

“Keep it up and you’re going to put Minjae Hyung into an early grave.”

Craning her neck, she cut her eyes at the shaggy-haired individual - his shit-eating grin never failing to irritate her.

“Shut-up, Taegi-ah,” she snipped, walking past him. Predictably, he followed but Nikita ignored him, focusing her attention on the warehouse.

“Aw, don’t be like that, Nikki-ah,” he whined at her back.

She rolled her eyes. Nikita hated that nickname and he knew it. She also knew that he didn’t care that she hated it.

Because that was the kind of person Yoon Taegi was.

A pain in her goddamn ass.

But she couldn’t hold it against him. Because he was the one who helped her break the chains the world decided to put on her the day she was born. Without him, she knew she would still be living the life of a woefully ignorant aristocrat - blind to the truth of society’s agenda. Nikita lived in a castle made of glass and didn’t understand her purpose outside of being a breeding agent for some future husband she would never be able to relate to.

When the day came for her to be matched with her significant other, Nikita was ready to accept that lot in her life. She was prepared to walk down the path that she was groomed for. What reason did she have to believe otherwise; to be aware that there was something else beyond the veil?

The truth wasn’t known to her until she saw a couple being arrested on the streets - cuffed and pulled away from each other. They screamed until their throats were raw, and then continued yelling for each other. They managed to share one final kiss until each were thrown into separate police cars and driven away to be incarcerated.

Their fates were declared on international television.

Taegi was the man she’d seen carted away and three months later, he broke out of prison. As punishment, the woman he loved was put to death. It was their attempt to shatter his spirit, to break him.

They failed.

Sighing, she looked at Taegi’s smug expression and couldn’t help marveling at how far they’d come. A loaf of bread, cheese and meat was all it took to barter for the truth. Taegi gave it to her and Nikita knew she could never go back to her life of privilege. Not if there were people she could help in the process. It didn’t take her long to find herself pulled into Rebel circles - all of them graciously accepting her into their fold.

hree years passed since then and Nikita didn’t regret leaving her family or her “duty” behind. She was free and she was fighting for a cause that meant something. Even if she’d never experienced it for herself.

Love.

Sliding the metal door aside, Nikita stepped into the warehouse. The smell of gunpowder and kerosene instantly filled her nostrils - causing her eyes to water slightly. She quickly wiped at them and sniffed, fishing through a crate on a nearby table. Her hands stilled momentarily as she felt Taegi’s palms slip over her shoulders. He squeezed them gently and she sighed, hanging her head a measure as her eyes stared into the box of homemade pipe bombs and hand grenades.

“Sometimes I worry that the fighting is never going to end,” Nikita said softly.

Taegi rubbed her shoulders in a comforting motion before moving away from her to lean against the table. He folded his arms across his chest, his face lifting to the ceiling. “It’ll stop one day. We just have to stand strong and in solidarity.”

Nikita shrugged, pulling out a few pipe bombs. “I just hope we’re around long enough to see it.”

She checked the fuses, gauging their length, before placing them back in the box. She set one hand grenade out, flicking a finger over the pull pin. After making sure that it was secure, she dropped it into her messenger bag and moved to the next crate. It contained knives of varying shapes and sizes. She opted for a switchblade of decent length, slipping it into her back pocket.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Pulling it out, she scanned the message on her screen. It was from Minjae, as expected. He was sending her on another assignment. There was another potential ally they could have on their side versus running amok on the streets.

Turning to move to another table, she felt Taegi’s hand grasping at her arm. She looked at him and saw the worry lines etched across his forehead. Nikita couldn’t help but smile at him.

“You just got back and you’re already prepping to head out again.” He frowned. “You’re like a machine, woman.”

“Can’t help it,” she said, chuckling slightly, “I’m not one to sit around and do nothing.”

“It’s not about doing nothing. It’s about resting. You’ve been gone for three days.” Taegi sighed, releasing his hold on her. “Hyung can’t pass this off to someone else?”

“Nope.” Nikita shook her head. “Recruitment’s my main gig. You know this. Besides…” She paused, meeting Taegi’s gaze, her own expression softening a bit. “...if we don’t have more people on our side, what good is any of this? It’s never going to stop until every last one of us are either dead or re-educated. Numbers mean everything.”

Looking back at the phone, she opened the file Minjae sent her. It was the most current dossier on a person willingly living off the grid. They had been for some time now.

She recognized his picture immediately. He was the guy she’d run into earlier that day. The same guy she punched in the gut for teasing her when she was in the process of playing “courier” for their group.

Nikita couldn’t help the bark of laughter that escaped her. Taegi looked at her curiously but she shook her head, slipping her phone back into her pocket. This was going to be interesting. Maybe he’d hear her out despite the terrible first impression she’d given.

My job just got a little bit harder. Great.

~ j.j. ~

Jungkook lazily sprawled himself out on the largest branch of an old tree near the edge of town. Swiveling a toothpick between his teeth, he looked around at the people who passed below him obliviously. It amused him, in a way, how they could mindlessly continue with their lives. They were like sheep to the slaughter, unaware of the truth of things.

Then again, he didn’t really know what the “truth” was himself.

All that mattered to him was no longer having a label stamped on his body as though it were a badge of shame. Society deemed that he was destined to be poor. Society claimed that his ideal match would be someone of their choosing. Society was right and the average person didn’t need to question this.

Well, society could go eat a bag of dicks.

Again, his phone buzzed. He picked it up from where he had it laying on his chest to stare at it - the screen illuminating his face in the shadows. It was another job forwarded by his employer. Sighing, he opened up the dossier of the person he was sent to help this time. When he saw the picture, however, Jungkook sat up so fast that he nearly fell out of the tree.

It was her. The woman who nailed him in the gut without batting an eyelash. The woman whose dark auburn curls and gray eyes failed to vacate his mind.

He was immediately suspicious.

Normally he would forward a job he didn’t want to another Runner. It wasn’t like Jungkook was hurting for money. In fact, he was planning on taking a small vacation soon - taking himself off the grid completely for a few weeks before coming back. But his curiosity was a damning thing and he didn’t mind being damned if it meant knowing who this woman was.

Nikita Meyers. 25. Former Blue Blood. Currently wanted by authorities due to her association with various Rebel factions throughout the world.

Blinking, he read through the short blurb again to make sure that he wasn’t misinterpreting anything. But what was there to misinterpret? This woman had it all and threw everything away to be a fugitive? Like him? He didn’t get it. Wasn’t the high life a life of pleasure and carefree days?

Why would she ever want to toss it away for the gritty life?

Jungkook frowned, thinking back on the life he left behind. He refused to conform to society’s whims and ran away from home when it was time for him to have his partner chosen through The Lottery Bill. He didn’t know what love was and he wasn’t sure if he wanted any part of it if the government was hell-bent on minimizing it throughout the globe. Jungkook could admit that he did stupid things when he was emotionally unstable, hence why he was living the life he currently was in the first place. But he also wasn’t too keen on the idea of bending to the whims of others.

Even so…

Sliding his thumb over the screen, he dialed the number his contact provided for him. It rang three times before someone answered. Her voice filled his ears and he leaned his back against the trunk of the tree as he listened.

“Jungkook-ssi?”

He smirked. “Oh, are we using polite words now?”

He heard a sigh from the other line. “I won’t apologize for what I did. I had my reasons.”

“Sure you did.” His tone dripped of sarcasm, but Jungkook felt his smile growing wider. “It’s alright. I forgive you anyway.”

“You’re so gracious. So, are you gonna help me or are you gonna pass me off so I’m someone else’s problem?”

His lips formed into a small ‘O’ while he scratched the side of his nose. “Is that normal for you?”

Nikita scoffed. “I don’t make it a habit to become a problem for anyone in the first place.”

“That’s a shame,” he replied while shifting his position to stand on the tree branch, “it’s fun to be problematic.”

“I’m sure you’d know that.”

“Of course. That's why I said it.”

“Are you going to help me or not?”

Jungkook was going to help her. He’d made that decision the minute he saw her picture on his phone as the next job he was supposed to take. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to have fun with her about it.

“Well, you’re in luck. I happen to have some free time slotted in my schedule.”

“Good. Now come down from that tree and meet me face-to-face.”

His smile fell from his face and he sat up again, looking around in every direction. He quickly craned his neck down and saw she was standing below the tree he was currently perched in. For a long moment, the two of them just stared at each other - each of them holding their phones to their faces; listening to the other person breathing.

Then he saw her smile up at him. It was a smile that clearly said that she knew more than he did; that she’d gotten the best of him. A smile full of secrets, daring someone to try to discover them.

It was a smile that made his heart twist sharply in his chest.

Hanging up the phone, he slid it into the inner pocket of his leather jacket. Without batting an eyelash, Jungkook effortlessly hopped off the tree branch, landing with an unnecessary flourish in front of her. Nikita slid her phone into her pocket as he slid his palms over the thighs of his jeans.

Again, neither said anything. They just took in each other’s presence.

Now that he got a better look at her, Jungkook was at least half a head taller than her. The strap to a dark gray messenger bag was pressed across her chest at an angle, enhancing the swell of her bosom. Other than that, there was nothing else about her that would elicit inappropriate thoughts. No skin showed outside of her bare neck, face, and thin wrists peeking out from the sleeves of her dark green field jacket. She wore charcoal gray cargo pants stuffed into a pair of shin length combat boots. A black newsboy hat adorned the top of her head this time.

“So,” Jungkook said, finally breaking the silence, “where am I escorting the lovely lady?”

“We’re too exposed here.” Nikita moved past him and he pivoted on his heels to follow after her.

They were heading back into the city.

Just as he was about to suggest they could go somewhere a little more private to chat, she hopped onto a nearby dumpster and scaled up the fire escape as easily as snapping her fingers. Jungkook slowly arched his neck, watching her fling herself up one iron landing until her body swung in a half arc to allow her the reach she needed to grasp onto the edge of the building’s rooftop. Her booted feet scraped over the brick, crumbling small bits to the ground until she disappeared over the edge.

“Well, I’ll be goddamned,” he mumbled, his smile returning. This woman was just full of surprises.

“Are you comin’ or not?” she called down to him.

Not like he needed to be asked twice. Jungkook made a game of it, determined to scale the building in half the amount of time she had. Once he reached the top, he pulled himself over the edge in time to see her running at full speed across the building.

“Hey!” he shouted after her, his own legs eating at the ground in hot pursuit, “Wait a minute!”

But just as he was starting to close the distance, Nikita jumped from the building and curled her body inward. Jungkook was almost to the edge and was preparing his own dismount when he saw her successfully clear the gap. She grabbed onto one of the metal pipes and swung herself into an open window. Jungkook didn’t have a chance to relish in the adrenaline pumping through his veins, his eyes memorizing her movement patterns so he could follow the trail she was leaving for him.

Dust filled his nostrils, causing him to cough from the onslaught to his senses. The room smelled of old wood and mold. The building had long since been abandoned and there was clearly no interest in changing its state of disrepair. The boards creaked under each step that was taken and Jungkook mentally worried if the floor would crack and collapse right beneath him.

A beam of bright light blinded him and he hissed, moving his forearm to cover his eyes.

“Yo, what’s the deal?!”

His words sounded snappish, which hadn’t been his intention, but what did anyone expect when suddenly rendered unable to see?

“Sorry,” Nikita said, lowering the light to give him a chance to adjust to the darkness, “I wanted to make sure you were right behind me.”

Jungkook rubbed his fists into his eyes gingerly, shaking his head to blink the golden spots away from his vision. “It’s fine.”

She gestured with the flashlight toward the stairs. “Follow me. And watch your step.”

Everything in the building seemed ancient and forgotten. Jungkook swore he heard it groan in response to their presence there. It gave him an eerie sort of vibe that he wasn’t sure he wanted to really wrap his head around.

Once they reached the ground floor, Nikita disappeared through a door to the right. It looked like an office building of some kind now that he got a better look at it. He could hear her roughly pulling at drawers from what he assumed were old metal filing cabinets. Jungkook took a lean against the door frame, folding his arms across his chest as more dust flew in the air from Nikita’s manic investigation methods.

“Need any help?”

She slammed a drawer closed and yanked at another one, fingers dancing over the folders. “I’m good.”

He shrugged, even though he knew she couldn’t see it. “So what is this place?”

“Used to be a Public Records office until everything became digitized and moved to the various data hubs all over the globe.”

“And now?”

Nikita pulled out a folder and sifted through the papers inside. “Now it’s a place for squatters and a go-between for Rebel units.”

Jungkook hummed in understanding. But something puzzled him.

“So why are we here?”

Turning to face him, she waved the envelope at him. “Gathering intel for another client.”

“Wait.” He stepped inside the room. “This isn’t an escort job, but a recon mission?”

Nikita grinned, shutting the drawer closed with her hip. “Yup.”

He frowned. “Then why was I hired for this? You do know that I’m a Runner, right?”

“I know.” She stuffed the envelope into her bag, using the beam of her flashlight to rifle through whatever contents were also inside. “I know exactly who you are, Jeon Jungkook.”

Jungkook didn’t know why, but he didn’t like what she was insinuating with those words.

Nikita pulled something else from her bag, but it was too dark for him to see. Using her other hand to secure the bag’s clasp, she stepped toward the window and slid it open. Jungkook watched her poking her head out, presumably to see if anyone else was coming. It was dark and most people had normal work schedules so there wasn’t a chance for anyone to be out after midnight.

Well, except for them.

“It’s a waste.”

“What?” Jungkook slightly tilted his head, confused. “What is?”

“You left everything behind the same time I did, but all you’ve done is float through life without a care in the world.” She glanced at him from over her shoulder. “It’s a waste.”

Rolling his eyes, he frowned. “What the hell do you know?”

He didn’t appreciate her judgmental attitude toward him. It wasn’t like she knew him. It wasn’t like she understood what he’d gone through up until that point. Living off the grid wasn’t easy and it wasn’t for everyone. Sure, he could have gone back home and ponied up. He could have turned to those fighting against society’s rules and regulations, seeing refuge from a dying world. But he wasn’t about to let himself become dependent on anyone. Being dependent on others equated to marginalized freedom and Jungkook didn’t want that either.

Even if it he had to remain alone to maintain it.

“I know you’re a Runner,” she said, flashing a shit-eating grin at him, “so I suggest you do what you’re good at. Running.”

Jungkook wasn’t sure what she was getting at. But before he could question her further, something fell to the ground. It rolled across the floor and into the sliver of light that leaked in through the window from the streetlamp outside.

It was a hand grenade.

“ARE YOU CRAZY?!” Jungkook barely heard his own voice through the panic cadence of his heartbeat.

Nikita reached out to grab his hand, pulling him toward her. “RUN!”

They both tumbled out the window, rolling onto the grass in a tangle of limbs. They dislodged themselves from each other, frantically scrambling to their feet as they hurried to put as much distance between them and the building as possible. The heat from the explosion pressed against Jungkook’s back, forcing his body to lurch forward. Something cut the side of his face and he grunted as his shoulder collided with the concrete. He thought he heard someone calling him, but it was hard to make out from the soft ringing in his ears and the alarms going off.

“Shit,” he muttered as he sat up on all fours, shaking his head back and forth to chase away his rattled nerves.

Someone grabbed roughly at his jacket, yanking him up to his feet. His face was inches from Nikita’s, her stormy eyes reflecting the fire and smoke eating away at the building behind him.

“Come on,” she said, her hand reaching out to grasp his, “we have to go!”

He didn’t have time to yell at her. He simply followed her direction. Besides, he knew better than anyone that he couldn’t just walk away from this. Jungkook was an accomplice - willingness be damned.

He was a Rebel now.

~ n.m. ~

She’d be lying if she hadn’t planned it out that way. Nikita never had any intention of outright asking Jungkook if he would join their cause. Instead, she chose to be a dirty bitch about it - forcing his hand and leaving him no other option but to stand at their side. The Rebels weren’t necessarily losing, but they weren’t winning, either. The more skilled people they had on their side, people like Jungkook, the more likely they would win against society’s preconceived notion of what “success” and “happiness” was.

Nikita did it because she knew that they had to have him. That she had to have him. She didn’t feel guilty about taking him away from the life he’d chosen for himself.

A month later, however, the guilt started rearing its ugly little head. Usually in the dead of night; when the urge to smoke overtook her. She puffed on a cigarette, her thoughts swirling around in her head like a busted washing machine in desperate need of repair. Minjae told her that she didn’t need to tell him the truth about that day; what her intention was. She normally never questioned Minjae or his motives.

Now? Another month passed. She wasn’t so sure anymore..

A strong gust of wind pushed up against her body, causing her to take a half a step forward. The wind was always powerful the higher a person was. But the rooftop of their hideout was the only place she could find any solace. More and more people were joining their cause, but more people meant less space. Maybe it was the former high-privileged snob in her, but she liked being able to have a little breathing room in her life.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were here,” a voice said from behind her.

She turned to glance over her shoulder, seeing that it was Jungkook. Her brows furrowed, a soft ache building at the center of her chest. But she didn’t say anything. He took a step back, his hand reaching behind him so he could push the door back open.

Nikita exhaled a thin stream of smoke, tapping the ash off the side of the building. “Stay if you want.” She shifted her gaze back to look at the twilight sky. “You don’t have to leave.”

The door closed, but the sound of feet shuffling closer toward her caused her to release a silent breath of relief. She didn’t want the awkward feeling to continue between them, and in the last month Jungkook proved himself useful. He never demanded to leave, because the people around him wanted him to stay. It made Nikita wonder if he’d never felt a sense of community before now; if he’d always been alone.

She was decent enough not to ask.

“No assignments. That’s rare.” He said it so easily, like he’d been a Rebel for years.

Shrugging, she lifted the cigarette to her lips. “Can’t be busy all the time. Batteries need charging and all that shit.”

He chuckled, sidling up beside her but giving her at least three feet of space. Nikita cast him a sidelong glance, watching him lean against the railing with his forearms.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Jungkook reached into his pocket and pulled out a toothpick. She raised a brow, unable to force back the smirk forming on her face. It was a habit she’d never understand, but it strangely suited him. She shook her head as he clamped his teeth over the twig, making it swivel back and forth with his tongue.

“What about you?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I’m heading out in two days.”

Nikita wouldn’t ask him where. It was better if she didn’t know. The less she knew, the less likely Jungkook would be compromised should something happen while he was away.

For a while, neither of them said anything. She finished her smoke, tossing the cigarette butt off the edge. Jungkook was focused on the starry night sky, so she knew he didn’t notice her looking at him. His hair shifted in back and forth motions from another gust of wind. He looked so lost in thought, yet completely relaxed.

Anything could happen between now and tomorrow. Jungkook could turn his back on them and possibly reveal everything he’d learned to the authorities. Or he could just get captured or killed. There were no guarantees in the world they were both fighting against and fighting for.

“I’m sorry,” Nikita said, surprised at herself with how suddenly the words came tumbling out.

“Huh?” Jungkook straightened up to his full height, flashing her a confused look. “What for?”

“I put us in that situation back then so that you’d have no choice but to come with us.”

He appeared to not understand what she was getting at. Was he really so gullible? Or was he just that innocent? How had the world not broken him?!

Nikita closed her eyes tightly, biting her lower lip that was already beginning to tremble. “I purposefully set you up. I forced you to become a Rebel.”

She couldn’t see him, much to her relief. But the sound of her heart hammering roughly against her ribs drowned out the sounds of the city. If he was saying anything at that moment, Nikita was confident she wouldn’t have heard him.

“I know.”

Those two words pierced through her loudly pounding heartbeat. Opening her eyes wide, she jerked her head to face him. He was closer to her now, but still wearing that gentle expression. The one of someone who understood something that she hadn’t been able to glean. The kind of expression that told volumes about a person’s life.

About the pain they were forced to endure.

“I know you did. And that’s okay.”

She blinked up at him, gobsmacked by his words. “Wh-What?”

How could he say that it was okay? What part of what she said was okay? As far as Nikita was concerned, none of this was okay!

“Because it was only after being here, I realized why you did. To me, that’s all that matters.”

Nikita’s brows furrowed in disbelief. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. It was like she’d lost the ability to speak or even formulate coherent phrases.

He continued.

“I’m a Runner. You said it yourself, running is what I’m good at. People only ever needed me to run for them. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

She watched him take a step toward her.

~ j.j. ~

Nikita looked like a deer caught in headlights.

Jungkook felt a strange sensation in the pit of his stomach; like something was fluttering inside of it. He wondered if he looked the same. If he had that same expression on his own face. Jungkook hoped he didn’t, but he felt weirdly calm. He couldn’t quite place why, other than he believed everything he was saying at that moment.

And he believed that Nikita would hear him; truly hear him.

Because for damn near two months, Jungkook couldn’t get Nikita out of his mind.

“My family didn’t care about me running away from my responsibilities. If they did, they would be looking for me now.”

He took another step forward, his eyes flicking downward to see if Nikita was going to take a step back. She didn’t, and that strange feeling in his stomach intensified.

“My two siblings are making up for my shortcomings. They’re happy and so I kept running. Here. There. Everywhere. It never mattered where I was or how long I was gone. Because running is what I do.”

Nikita looked like she was really listening to him. He knew it because of how focused her eyes were; shaking.

“J-Jungkook,” she stammered.

He knew he should take a step back. Reassess things and think about just what the hell was tumbling from his mouth. It wasn’t like he’d planned this and he hadn’t expected for her to apologize for making him a sucker. One day was all he needed to figure it out. After the initial internal battle he had with himself died down, Jungkook was planning to get the hell out of that place. He would play nice and then bounce. Simple as that.

But one day turned into one week. Then two. Then three.

Until a month passed by.

He realized it hadn’t bothered him as much as he initially thought. Because in that short amount of time, he saw Nikita in ways that he was sure she didn’t realize was being showcased. Jungkook discovered every nuance about her as their paths crossed every single day. From the way she preferred hats with bills than beanies, to how she would scratch at the bridge of her nose when she was annoyed. She preferred dogs over cats, but had a special kind of love for horses. She liked dark liquors and she hated beer. Nikita hated mornings, but she would always get up early to see the sunrise before going back to sleep.

And she was one helluva free runner.

Taking one more step forward, there was now less than a foot of space between Nikita and him. Again, he looked down to see if she would step back. And again, she didn’t.

“For the first time in a while, no one wants me running anymore. And when I have to run, I know I have a place to run back to. Because there are people waiting for me.”

He reached out to grasp her wrists, feeling her pulse jumping with life beneath his palms. For a split second, he suddenly felt self-conscious that his hands might be cold, clammy, or all of the above. But Jungkook selfishly refused to let go. He would apologize later for it if she shoved him aside.

Or off the building.

He waited - the soft clouds of breath meeting hers as she breathed out in sync with him. Nikita didn’t move or was thinking about what to do at that moment. Jungkook knew he needed to hurry and say what was churning inside of him.

What he’d been wanting to say for almost a week now.

“Because people like you are waiting for me.”

His hands moved from her wrists, slowly gliding up her arms until his palms slid over the delicate curve of her shoulders. Jungkook even knew how strong she was under all the bulky clothes she wore. It was how people kept underestimating her. It was how she survived.

But even under that strength was a gentle and compassionate woman. A woman who cared about the people around her. A woman who decidedly left her comfortable entitlement to help anyone suffering under the injustice of the world’s system. A woman who cried in mourning for those who could not be with the ones they loved.

Jungkook’s hands cupped her neck, using his thumbs to stroke over Nikita’s jawline. He gently pressed them to her chin, lifting her face to his. He could see the tears forming in her eyes and he paused, feeling his own hands trembling. Could he afford to hesitate? Could he really let this moment pass by, only to fade away into the darkness where it would never return to see the light of day?

He had to keep trusting her. Trust that she would keep listening.

“Jungkook, what are you--?”

“I love you.”

Jungkook felt like his insides were going to fall straight out of him. He said it. His nerves felt liquefied, but he said it.

“W-What?”

“I love you, Nikita.”

Not wanting her to push him away, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. He felt her gasp in his mouth and he waited for her to retaliate. To kick and scream and threaten to toss him over the side to his death. He would have deserved it. His death would be justified.

But Nikita didn’t shove him to the side. No. And he lifted his lips from hers when he felt her hands cupping his elbows. What tears were in her eyes spilled down her cheeks. Jungkook saw her brows furrow, but there was a watery smile now on her face.

And then he kissed her again, harder. His hands left her face so he could wrap his arms around her, fully pulling her up against him. He needed her close. Closer than he’d ever been able to get to her. The need was terrible and he didn’t want to chase it away. He sucked in air through his nose, drinking in the subtle smell of her shampoo. Nipping and tugging at her lips between his teeth and tongue, he relished the soft taste of ash from the cigarette she smoked earlier. But there was a hint of peppermint. Nikita always ate a peppermint before smoking because she despised the taste.

Jungkook would continue his mission of getting her to quit.

They parted the kiss long enough to get air. He could just barely see her through the clouds of their breaths. Even in the dark, her eyes seemed to glow. He loved how Nikita always looked like she could see right through him.

“I fell in love with you. I don’t know how. I don’t know why.” He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers as their noses touched. “I just did. I just do.”

Turning to bury his nose into the curve of Nikita’s neck, he smiled against her skin.

“It’s okay if you don’t right now. We have as much time as we need to figure it out. Until then, just let me keep loving you as you are now. As I am now.”

Her body shook with how roughly she was nodding her head. Jungkook pressed his fingers against the back of her neck as he held her aloft. And for awhile, that’s all they did. Hugged each other. He could feel how hard their hearts were hammering against each other. All the anxiety and hesitation felt like it was bleeding out of him.

Nikita laughed a little. “Damn,” she whispered.

Jungkook smirked. “What?”

“Guess this means I love you too.”

They shared a laugh. He leaned forward to pull her into a hug. Jungkook appreciated how good it felt to know her arms were around him. It may have been a selfish beginning, but it wouldn’t be a selfish end.

He knew things would get harder from now on. But that was okay. Because the hole in his heart was full.

Because he loved this woman in his arms.

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