"Even ignorance can't hide the fact that you reek of death."
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Sometimes, a little teamwork is all it takes to rupture an empire.
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BTS AU
BTS JUNGKOOK X READER
GANG RING AU
BTS X MAFIA AU
100,000+ WORDS
*not actually about phantoms, lol*
Best...
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"You cannot wear that."
There was something really indescribable about the way Jungkook said that to you.
Something dark. Menacing. Like what he meant by saying it, was: don't you dare wear that.
The rebellion that ran in rapids through your blood was first what took over when you replied.
"Get lost."
"I mean it, Red." he inched closer, staring down at what looked to be the white lace from your apron, "Please don't."
He was profoundly sharp. His dark eyes pierced through you as if you were translucent.
It was as if he really didn't want you to wear it. He was visibly uncomfortable.
You shrugged your shoulders "This is what they gave me to wear. Same as what you're wearing."
It's true, it was.
A fellow worker came by a meeting point earlier—which was not far from the house your team had been assigned—to drop off what you were both asked to wear.
"N-nevermind... Forget it."
He backed down quickly. Like a dog that had been ordered to by his owner. He looked to the floor for safety, but found no prevail.
"It's uniform. I hate it too."
In truth, you really disliked what you were wearing.
You had refused to look in any mirror or reflective surface since you put it on, because you knew that if you had, it would be impossible to resist taking it off and burning it.
"I don't hate it." he muttered, correcting you, but you weren't sure in what regard. The dress made you cringe and stutter when you first saw it.
A black dress, short hem. There was a white apron, long socks, and a flattering elastic band around your waist. It was straight out of an adult film.
Cliche.
While Jungkook was able to keep it classic, with a simple black tux and cloaked handgun, he was looking cryptic.
You looked like a hooker.
"It's actually just that I like it too much."
Oh.
Oh.
"Stop. Let's just get this over with," you dismissed him. "Three hours?"
"Yup."
Wanting desperately to make this humiliating outfit your own, you got to work. First, you bent down to your ankles and tugged on your socks, scrunching them down from your thighs so that they were mid-shin, and then you reached for your backpack.
