cookyandcream - Tumblr blog

cookyandcream · 1 year

Text

DIE FOR YOU: Part I [Mafia!Jungkook x Reader]

Pairing: Mafia!Jungkook x Reader [MAFIA AU]

Summary: You’re the best mercenary on the market. Jungkook is the main assassin of the most powerful crime syndicate in the country. What happens when you are hired to kill him?

Word count: ~2k

Contains: language, graphic violence, mentions of people being r*pists (but no descriptions of SA at all), some mentions of sexual activity >:)

A/N: I AM BACK MWAHAHAHAHA this is a shameless way I can write a BTS mafia AU with a sort of enemies-to-lovers trope woven in there. I hope you all enjoy this story!

“Please, please, I’ll do anything.”

You don’t pay attention to the blubbering of the man in front of you, too busy trying to find that damned knife that you swear you stored in your right boot. You pat the side of your left shoe. Ah, there it is. You furrow your brow, remembering that you hastily shoved it in the left boot in the morning while scarfing down some granola. It was a new vegan granola that you saw in the supermarket, something you wouldn’t have batted an eye to, but your best friend has been on your ass about eating healthier so you chose that to avoid her future scolding.

You unsheathe the knife. At the sight of the glinting metal, the man all but breaks down. His red face becoming purple, snot streaming out of his nose and into his mouth.

“Please, please,” the man sobs, struggling to loosen the binds around his wrists and legs. You roll your eyes, not understanding why people beg. It wastes time, breath, and it was simply grating to the ears.

“What can you do for me?” You scoff, deciding to humor him for a bit––you aren’t in a rush. His head whips up at your voice, something akin to hope glimmers in his eyes.

“I––I have money. How much do you want? I can give any amount you want” he asks. At that, you truly roll your eyes, your lip curling in disgust. These men were all the same. These men who held the belief that the wealth that they owned was even more powerful than death––than fate. Most times––it is. Too bad her employer is paying her more than this fool is even capable of matching.

A couple days ago, you got a name, Lee Taejoon, and 50,000,000 won transferred into your bank account. You require half the money to be transferred as a sign of good faith––you want to make sure the people you were working for weren’t crooks, obviously.

Thus, you began the job. Every job was different, but you followed a loose to-do list for every one.

Step one: Stalk the target. Lee Taejoon liked spending an exorbitant amount of money on expensive cigars and liked to frequent the bars and brothels in downtown while his wife waited at home for him.

Step two: Choose the weapon of choice. For this job, you chose your favorite dagger––an unassuming blade but wickedly sharp. You always choose knives for the rapists.

Step three: follow him out of the brothel and into his home. Tonight, his wife was staying with her sister in another city––a girls’ trip.

Earlier, you saw him walk jaggedly out of the building, tie undone and his shirt a few buttons loose. He hailed a cab, throwing himself inside. You revved up your bike, and trailed him silently from behind.

Now, Lee Taejoon is stone cold sober. You look down and notice that the man’s pants are still unzipped. You scrunch your nose. Disgusting. Twirling the blade in your hand, you walk towards him. You want to make this hurt. The number one thing you hated in this goddamned world were rapists.

He’s stil going on how much he can pay you––how much he was willing to offer––when you press the blade into the side of his cheek. He stutters to a stop. You press and press until you feel the skin give way and you’re met with soft flesh. The man whimpers in pain, a wet gasp getting stuck in his throat.

“Shh,” you hush, and you level him with a stare. He must have seen something in your eyes as his face crumples, and he begins to weep.

They always accept their fate at the end.

“I’m going to make this hurt,” you say to him softy, smearing the blood across his skin. He lets out a dry sob.

“And you will repent.”

Screams pierce through his mansion throughout the rest of the night.

––––––––

The music in Idol was thumping. Sweaty bodies on the dance floor pressed close together. The flashing lights make it almost impossible to see five feet in front of you.

Luckily Jeon Jungkook is currently downing a shot of Grey Goose in the VIP section of his club in the back. The red velvet rope sectioning him off from the rest of club-goers. He shakes his head, grinning as he feels the alcohol burning down his throat.

“Hi gorgeous,” Jungkook murmurs, snaking his arms around a pretty brunette’s waist. He asked one of the waiters to bring her over to his section after he spotted her on the dance floor. He already has another drink in one hand, a cigarette dangling from his lips. The girl giggles, throwing her hair over her shoulder and looking at him with hooded eyes.

Fuck, he thinks. He wants to take her home, but he isn’t at the club for a fuck. Maybe he might have time to screw her in one of the office rooms in the back. Namjoon would have his head, but right now, he’s only thinking with the thing in his pants and the pretty girl’s lips on his neck.

He sits himself down in the booth, bringing the girl with him so she’s now straddling him––he thinks her name is Yumi, or was it Yujun?––whatever, he doesn’t give a fuck. Not when she’s grinding down on him so nicely. He throws his head back, and when he opens his eyes, he sees Yoongi leveling him with an unamused stare, a hand situated casually in the pocket of his black trousers. When their eyes meet, the older man scowls at Jungkook, raising an eyebrow.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath this time while untangling himself from the girl. She pouts as she sees her chance of sleeping with the Jeon Jungkook slipping through her fingers, but he pushes her gently off of him. He takes the cigarette out of his mouth.

“Sorry sweetheart,” he apologizes––not before gripping her throat and placing a searing kiss to her lips. In his peripheral, he sees Yoongi roll his eyes. He chuckles before walking towards the back, taking a swig of the remnants of his drink before slamming the glass down at a random table. Pushing open the emergency exit, he makes his way outside. He takes one last puff before throwing the cigarette onto the floor. Raking his hand through his hair, he looks around, inhaling the sweet smell of the night. It’s never quiet in this area of town. The outbursts of drunk partygoers stumbling in and out of clubs and the occasional police sirens cut through the night. He slaps his cheek once before picking up the rectangular black bag leaning neatly against the side of the building. Hoisting it onto his shoulder, he begins to climb the ladder that leads to the roof.

His Barrett M82 rifle was his baby. A sleek long range precision rifle he used for every snipe job that Namjoon assigned him. Tonight, his target is a man who was threatening one of the many arms deals BTS was planning. This job was an easy one for Jungkook. He almost scoffed when Namjoon assigned it to him instead of assigning it to one of thugs that they usually employ when putting out an easy hit.

But Namjoon is a meticulous man. He didn’t want just any guy to take this man out. Namjoon didn’t tell Jungkook explicitly, but after working together for almost ten years, Jungkook could see the anxiety in the leader’s face about this man. So, he didn’t question his leader. This assignment came around two hours ago when Yoongi got news that the target would be frequenting the club across the street for tonight.

Taking a deep breath, he positions his eye, looking through the scope. It always takes his targets a couple of seconds to notice the red dot on their chest. But once they do, the look on their faces are always the same. Shock followed by the panicked swiveling of their head, eyes looking around frantically, until finally, they see Jungkook’s body laying on the roof across the street. Being a little shit, Jungkook twiddles his fingers at the man. He can’t help playing a little. Just a little though. As much as Namjoon and the rest of the members give him shit (most times, for good reason), they cannot question his skill. Jungkook is effective––having earned the reputation as one of the deadliest killers of Korea’s crime underworld.

His hand squeezes the trigger.

Maybe he’ll have time to fuck that pretty girl after all.

––––––––

Toweling your hair, you walk through your apartment. The floor to window ceilings show one of the best views of the city, building lights twinkling like stars. Despite having traveled all over the world, staying in one country one night and leaving for another the next, you always find yourself coming back here. Could never stay away from the apartment you bought all those years ago, the one permanent residence you had in the world. You couldn’t help it. You loved this city.

Your informant let you know that there was an offer coming through tonight. Since you had no other jobs, you were open to considering the offer. Your last assignment went smoothly. After you killed the man, you were able to get back home, change, and get dressed for a nice dinner. You had made a reservation at one of the best Italian restaurants in Seoul to celebrate.

Tonight, you just had wait for the information to arrive.

You open your wine fridge, grabbing the bottle of Pinot noir that you had chilling in there. Jennie––your best friend and infamous arms dealer––bought it for you after you completed a 750,000,000 won assignment the other month. Opening one of your glass cabinets, you pull out a wine glass. Before you can grab the wine opener though, you hear a knock at the door. You still, ears perking up to the sounds of shuffling outside the door. You wait a couple minutes before opening and you’re met with a bouquet of flowers and a gift basket. You haul the items into your apartment.

The bouquet was made up of tulips and carnations, your favorite. You take one of the flowers and inhale, closing your eyes. Next, you open the basket, and you’re met with a bottle of chilled champagne, two crystal champagne flutes, a box holding a diamond necklace, and one small card sitting in the middle. Before opening the card, you admire the necklace. It was a beautiful thing, and oh, how you loved diamonds. The person assigning the hit must have done his or her research.

Finally, you open the card. On it, were only two lines.

Jeon Jungkook

10,000,000,000 won

142 notes · View notes

cookyandcream · 3 years

Text

You meet campus fuck boy jeon jungkook for the first time, and he costs you a bag of hot Cheetos

Pairing: Fboy!Jungkook x reader

Summary: You trade your only bag of hot Cheetos to get rid of Jeon Jungkook.

Word count: ~2k

Contains: just a bit of PG-13 language

A/N: Hi everyone! This is just a quick and short little fic that I wrote. I hope you guys enjoy and let me know any of your thoughts! My requests are open, so request away!

Shitshitshitshitshitshit. You are so late.

You woke up to your phone vibrating on your stomach. it takes a couple seconds to realize that you’re in your apartment since the room is so dark. You wipe drool from the side of your mouth. Groggily, you pick up your phone and flip it over. Jennie—1 message. Eyes still half closed, you swipe onto the message.

“Wya??” the message reads. Still slow from just waking up, you just stare at the message for a couple seconds––

“Oh fuck!” You yell, shooting straight out of bed. When did you fall asleep? You’re stuffing your laptop into your backpack all the while muttering a chorus of “shits” and “fucks” under your breath. You bump your hip into your desk, but you don’t really register the pain. Your roommate, Jackson walks through the door of your apartment.

“Hey Y/N––”

“Hey Jackson, I gotta go late for class––bye!” You rushed out before sprinting out the door, your sneakers half on.

You cannot miss this class. It’s review day and if you don’t get at least a B on this final, you’re going to have to retake the course––you curse yourself for skipping all of those lectures but it wasn’t your fault that the class was an 8 am on a Friday! How were you––a mere college student weak to getting shit-faced on Thursdays––supposed to go to class hungover, which is basically being sick if one really thinks about it. It simply is not fair.

Half power walking-half jogging across campus, you finally make it to the lecture hall, panting and red-faced and sweaty. At least this class is a big lecture so you can just slip in unnoticed. Carefully pulling open the door, you step into the dark room, only illuminated by the projector at the front of the class. You scan the lecture hall and let out a breath when you spot an empty seat at the back row.

“Sorry sorry,” you whisper as you climb and trip over the legs and laps of your classmates (most of whom are currently throwing you dirty looks). You finally reach the empty seat and sigh in relief before pulling out your laptop and opening up your notes.

You look to your right and are met with probably the most attractive man you’ve ever seen. Sharp jaw, high cheek bones and pretty brown eyes. He’s in a black hoodie and his hair sits messy on his head.

You see his eyes flick down to your chest––and just like that his pretty face is immediately ruined. You’re wearing cotton shorts that you usually wear as pajamas and a low cut tank––you didn’t have time to change and just threw on an oversized zip up before bolting out the door. You almost roll your eyes. Typical college fuck-boy douchebag––

“Hey beautiful, I haven’t seen you around.” Yep, typical. This time you actually do roll your eyes. He’s now turned to face you, lazily resting his head on the palm of his hand.

“Maybe because there are twenty thousand undergrad,” you say without looking up from your laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard––this prof was known for going through his slides at supersonic speed. The boy next to you is undeterred.

“I’m Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook.”

“Didn’t ask, don’t care,” you hiss. You know you’re being a little rude, but you already missed twenty minutes of the lecture and his whispering is distracting you from the what the professor is saying about operant conditioning.

Jungkook raises his brows. “Ouch, she bites,” he says, pressing a hand to his heart.

“I’ll do a lot worse than biting if you keep talking.”

“Is that a promise?” He asks, waggling his brows. You look at him for second in silence, blink once, and then promptly turn to the person sitting to your left.

“Hey dude, one bag of hot Cheetos to switch seats?” You ask, pulling out the bag of chips from your backpack and holding it out to guy sitting next to you. You give the bag an enticing wave in front of the guy’s face. The guy looks at you for a second before shrugging his shoulders. He grabs the Cheetos before collecting his stuff. You both awkwardly shuffle around but finally manage to switch places. You don’t even glance Jungkook’s way when you sit down in your new seat, but you can feel him gaping at you in your peripheral vision. You can tell by the way he puffs up his chest that he’s going to say something, so you simply flip him off once you finish typing up the notes from the current slide. You don’t try to hold back a smile.

When he sees your middle finger pointed directly at him, he can’t help but chuckle silently to himself as he settles back into his seat, propping a foot up onto the back of the seat in front of him. He now really wants to know who this girl is––one who so easily evaded his charms––using a bag of Cheetos.

Once the clock hits 3:45, you quickly slip your laptop into your backpack, flip up the little table attached to the desk, and book it out of the lecture hall (you might have had to shove some people out of the way). Pulling out your phone, you’re typing up a text to send to Jennie when you feel a tap on your shoulder. Flinching almost violently and biting back a shriek, you whip around to find your best friend standing behind you with an amused expression on her face.

“Shit, Jen, you almost gave me a fucking heart attack.”

“Oh stop being so dramatic, Y/N. Anyway, where were you? Did you get my text?”

You groan, “I woke up late because my stats homework quite literally bored me to death. I got to the lecture like twenty minutes late.”

“Hey––wait!” You hear before feeling another tap on your shoulder. You and Jennie both turn around, and you internally groan when you see the guy from the lecture––Jeon Jungkook––standing behind you.

“I never got your name.”

“You cost me a whole bag of hot Cheetos, you’re not getting my name,” you say, crossing your arms. He smiles at that before turning to Jennie. “You know, your friend is really mean,” he says. But Jennie doesn’t respond, just staring at him with wide eyes and a slightly parted mouth.

“Ok, ok, fine fair enough,” he says with his palms out in surrender. His mouth curls into a shit-eating grin and you narrow your eyes.

“Well then, you should come to the Beta Tau Sigma party tonight. I’ll make sure it’s worth your while, sweetheart,” he says with a wink before sauntering off. Your mouth drops open in disbelief as you stare after him. He’s joined by two other guys.

“What the fuck Y/N! That guy was so hot!” Jennie yells, shoving you.

“Yeah, and he seems like a complete douche.”

“So what! You don’t need to care about his personality for a nice fuck.”

Shoving her back, “You’re actually the worst,” you say, but you’re laughing.

You look once more at Jeon Jungkook laughing and surrounded by his friends before heading to your next class.

–––––––

“Oh, ew,” is the first thing you say once the door opens, and you see the person on the other side. The guy walking behind him chokes on his water to which Jungkook responds,“Shut up Tae!” You suppress a laugh. Of course he’s in a frat.

He leans against the door with his arms crossed. “You look cute today, sweetheart” he says, eyeing your skirt and sweater combo. You try to ignore the way your heart jumps (traitor) at the name even as you give him a look of disgust.

You scrunch up your nose. “Don’t you have other girls you can terrorize with your terrible flirting?”

“They’re not as pretty as you,” he says unfazed, and you scoff.

“Well, Jackson from Gamma Omega Tau told me to tell someone named RM, I think, that the darty was moved to the fourteenth and to email JB back about the charity drive by this Friday. And also to give you guys this.” As you’re handing over the packet of papers that Jackson gave you, Jungkook grabs your wrist––gently and soft enough for you to pull away.

“So can I get that name?” he asks, his voice low enough to make your face heat and your pulse quicken, and you’re annoyed at your body’s betrayal. And by the smirk on his face, he knows the effect he has, which makes you even more annoyed. So, you narrow your eyes before quickly stepping into his space. He freezes as you slide the hand not in his grasp to rest on his chest. You stand on your tip toes and his breath catches when you lean in, mouth almost brushing his ear.

“In your dreams, Jeon Jungkook,” you say into his ear before pulling back and out of his grasp. He’s frozen on the spot, mouth parted as you wave goodbye and skip down the pathway from the house.

“Who was that?” Taehyung appears, shirt now stained wet with the water he spit onto himself earlier.

“I don’t know,” he says, a slight blush tinting his cheeks. He’s surprised he doesn’t know you––especially since it seems like you’re close to the guys over at the GOT house.

–––––––

Why is Jeon Jungkook asking for your name?” Jackson asks.

You suppress a groan. “Who even is that guy? I’ve never seen him in my life.”

“He just got back from a gap year in London.“

Oh that makes sense. You weren’t friends with Jackson and the guys at GOT until last year.

“He’s gross.”

“Yeah he is, so stay away from him. But knowing you––I give it maybe a week before you get into his pants––he’s completely your type isn’t he?” You squawk in indignation before throwing a pillow at him

“I do have some sense of self control and dignity!”

“Sure sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“I am NOT going to sleep with Jeon Jungkook!” You yell at him as he walks away. You huff, throwing yourself back onto the couch cushions.

–––––––

It just hit twelve in the morning, and you’re in the library studying for the psych final that’s tomorrow.

“Ventral stream equals temporal lobe. Dorsal stream equals parietal. Ventral, temporal. Dorsal, parietal,” you mutter to yourself when a huge bag of hot Cheetos falls into your lap, seemingly coming from the heavens above. You look up. Nope. Just Jeon Jungkook.

“Good luck on the test sweetheart,” he says before you can even formulate a response and walks, you assume, to the table filled with people in the back.

“It’s Y/N,” you say before you can think about it any further. He freezes before slowly turning around, a smile on his lips.

“My name,” you cough, “Um, it’s Y/N,” you say suddenly feeling shy and flustered much to your dismay.

“Y/N,” he says, and you try to ignore the shiver that runs down your spine when he says it, low and deep. “A gorgeous name for a gorgeous girl.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay now shut up and let me study.”

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts #bts fanfic #bts fan fiction #my writing #fanfiction #fanfic

27 notes · View notes