Ace For Hire // BTS Reader Insert

2

After changing back into your maroon and black themed school uniform, you head back to your cozy corner apartment. Emphasis on cozy because you could barely fit a normal size family. Other than that you loved it, a kitchen and bedroom was all you really need. Because you never really used either. While leaving the gates you saw a group of girls giggle while comparing phone key chains.

You'd be lying if you said you hated the idea of friends. Even so you knew having friends would become a liability. Especially evolving your line of work. Maybe that's why your dad didn't have a lot of friends. Or maybe he did but it was part of the lies too. Thankfully you were a social butterfly since preschool. So you've never dealt with awkward social situations during work. Or during interrogations.

While walking up the rusted black stairs, you found an odd comfort in the creaking it made under your black Mary Janes. You walked down the one-sided hallway. Glancing over the railing that was opposite to the apartment doors. Watching the sunset from the hallway was one of the reasons you liked your humble abode. Taking your glasses off you studied the sky more. Streaked across the top were vivid shades of purple pink and orange. The colors bleed together over the fading sun with the ends of the streaks curving inwards.

After sky gazing for a few minutes you went inside your apartment. Your instantly overcome by the smell of vanilla and honey. You even made a little creamy color apron that says "I'll kick your ass and then bake a cake". Even though you practically became a hitman, you were still into your favorite pastimes. You still enjoy baking and going to the cat café down the street. You picked up a star shaped cookie on a plate you left out from last night as you walk by the kitchen. Humming a bit as the sugar and chocolate melted evenly along your tongue.

Dropping your backpack on the couch you head into your bedroom to change. Carefully hanging up your maroon blazer and white button up shirt. You tossed the black pleated skirt onto the bed and took your knee socks off. Throwing them behind you well aware it made it into the laundry basket by the door.

Digging through the bottom of your closet, you fished out the classic black assassin themed outfit. You purposely made your outfit that way, so that others knew exactly who you were without asking. The black hood concealed the top half of your face. So in any direction of light others could only see your mouth. Your top was black, the hood part was open exposing your neck and collar bones and hung slightly past your hips. You also had a thick black belt wrapped around your waist. To go for the full "black death" look, you wore matching tights that had a holster strap on your left thigh. For the finishing touch you pulled your hair into a pony tail tucking it into the hood. Lacing up your black leather boots that went halfway up your shin you were satisfied.

Staring into the mirror a small gleam caught your eye. The locket was hanging out, reflecting light from its dent. You unclasp it and put it inside a box under your bed. Taking a pistol out from the box afterwards. You stand up pushing the box back under your bed with the back of you heel. Strapping your gun into your thigh holster gave you a major boost in confidence. Giving yourself one last look over in the mirror, you headed out into the night. Blending into the dark, just like the colors did into the sunset earlier.

Ace of spades. That was your calling card. Someone wanted a job done they write it on the back of an ace of spades. Then they leave it at one of the many drop off spots you marked throughout gang territory. 'Gang Leader. Assassination. Club Eclipse. 11:57.' Was written in what you assume was a silver glitter pen, signed off with a heart at the bottom. Looking back onto the wrote of the card you couldn't help but smirk. Instead of a sum written on your pay there was something else, 'Information.'

Of course you wouldn't kill someone over a glittery written 'Information'. Whether they really had key information or not, you were still willing to do it. Because there's always a 100% chance that whoever your killing, gets coal yearly on Christmas. Most if not all the people you're hire to kill isn't involved with drugs. They're probably involved with something worst or something more illegal. You learned that quickly after your first kill. To be fair your first kill was on accident. You panicked and shot him dead. But when you found out what he did, what he had done.