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xemilysakurax · 9 years ago

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you’re my everything (3)

jeon jungkook x reader, mafia!au

prologue / part 1 / part 2 / part 3

warnings: bad language

length: 1.8k words

a/n - for anyone wondering, admin sleepykookie still wrote this but that name is too damn long holy crap, so now i’m admin blue, enjoy reading~x

~admin blue

Above all, Jungkook confused you.

He was almost always distant, and cold like ice, yet his gaze was red hot, burning your exposed skin like an inferno. He could be cruel, intimidating, constantly arrogant, but his caring actions were rarely well concealed enough to escape your notice. He would leave you for an agonizing twenty four hours without any explanation, only to return with a bag of stuff you needed.

Not that he wanted for you to rely on him for much. You had your own stuff now, you knew where everything was, and did not particularly care to know where he spent his days and nights. It would almost be easy to forget how things were, at least, it might have been, if he hadn’t constantly shown up uninvited to the forefront of your mind.

You were on your way back to your-his-room from the kitchen that day, hand slipping around the wooden doorknob to let yourself in. You almost squealed in surprise when you saw him, ignoring your feelings and silently narrating new ones.

Jungkook was stood lounging against his favorite display, smirking as you dropped what you had been carrying. He pushed himself off the wall and strolled towards you, running his fingertips along your cheek.

“Did my kitten miss me?” His words were dripping with possessiveness, and you couldn’t help but to notice the emphasis on my. Forcing yourself to flinch at the pet name, you met his dark eyes, frowning.

“Did something happen?” You squinted, noticing the pink scar now decorating his cheek, seeming fairly new and fresh. He ignored you, tracing the goosebumps on your bare shoulders and biting his lip slightly.

“You’re cold. You know, (y/n), you should wear more clothes.” You felt a crimson blush seep over your face as his eyes traveled down, not that he noticed. His gaze eventually settled on the lacy neckline of your dress, darkening further as he explored it with interest. “Never mind.”

You frowned, yanking the material up and sticking out your chin defiantly, wordlessly daring him to meet your eyes. His gaze lazily wondered back to yours, overpowering you easily. You noticed the glimmer of grim worry tinting the mocking glow of his brown eyes, warning you. As a not so distant clatter brought your eyes from his, he murmured softly, “They’re mad.”

He slid his leather jacket off and wrapped it carefully around your shoulders, placing a hand on the small of your back and gently leading you out of the room, just as another boy appeared in the hall. His dyed orange hair fell messily over his forehead as he regarded the two of you with contempt. You felt Jungkook grip the fabric of your dress as the stranger’s eyes ran over you, his jaw clenching tightly. The stranger, who seemed a little older, laughed without humor.

“Jeon, Boss wants to see you and your pet.”

Jungkook returned the dry chuckle, “Bet he does.” Feeling the uncomfortable stiffening of your spine against his hand, he sighed slightly, frowning at the other boy. “She doesn’t like it when you call her that.”

You were taken aback as he marched you away, down some complex maze of corridors and double doors. He silenced the questions on your lips by interrupting your thought process, murmuring something to himself that you heard as well.

“-but she doesn’t mind being my kitten.” Your cheeks flamed, as you promised yourself that he was lying. How could you ever feel anything but repulsion at the words of such a man?

You immediately noticed the smirk he wore flatten a little, the edge of panic staining his carefully guarded eyes. The slight stiffening of his body should have warned you, as he stepped forward to knock on a dark brown wooden door.

A male voice answered, “Come in,” and Jungkook pushed open the door, leading you to stand before a large mahogany desk.

An unfamiliar man was sat behind the desk, with his fingertips pressed to his temples, as if he had a terrible headache. His eyes were shut, partially hidden by his shock of blonde hair. Finally, he spoke, opening his lids to lock eyes with the boy whose hand was resting possessively on your hip.

“Jungkook.”

“Namjoon.” The man you took to be Namjoon seemed to be considering smiling, before he instead offered a steely glare.

“Sit down.” You both complied, Jungkook’s hand now resting on your knee. “So,” he began, almost bored, “Who is this? Enlighten me.”

“She’s the girl.”

“I know she’s the fucking girl, don’t try to be smart, Jeon. What the fuck are you doing with their long fucking lost baby sister?”

He snorted, “It was the plan to use her later anyway, right? I just got there before anyone else had the chance to trade her for-”

“Let me rephrase the question for you. Why the fuck is she your whore?”

You were shocked, and by the way his nails dug into your thigh, you guessed Jungkook wasn’t best pleased either. He spoke through gritted teeth. “She’s not my whore.” Namjoon waved his words away.

“Your pet, then, whatever. Do we remember what happens to fools who get too attached to their pets?” By his subtle flinch, you guessed he did. Namjoon sighed, speaking still to Jungkook, but turning his furious gaze to you. “If she wasn’t worth all of our asses in their eyes, she would be dead. And the minute she’s not useful, if there’s a complication, or she fucks up or some shit, I will not hesitate to put a bullet through her head.”

You were horrified, frozen as the conversation ended and Jungkook pulled you up, dragging him from the room after him. Once the heavy doors swung shut, you felt your legs give way and your breathing come dangerously quick, nodding and shaking your head, possibly completely inappropriately, at Jungkook’s questioning, as you couldn’t clearly hear him over the rushing of blood in your ears, the deafening, erratic beats of your heart. You dimly remembered him carrying you back to his room, and you thought that you vaguely recalled him talking more to you, but you couldn’t be sure.

Eventually, he was gone and you lay motionless, waiting for sleep to find you, longing for it’s utopia of oblivion.

That was the night that the nightmares began.

You woke up unfailingly, time after time, in a cold sweat, heart racing and flesh crawling. No amount of logic could calm your shaking limbs, and consciousness failed to bring your respite. The nightmare changed a little each time, ingrained itself slightly further into your memory with each regeneration. Sleep deprivation made you fearful and miserable, purple bruises began to decorate the area under your eyes.

You wanted to blame him for the nightmares, but you found it impossible. Trying to hate him seemed to you like jumping from a height and expecting to fly. In fact, you caught yourself wishing to be near him, to feel the steady beating of his heart, for him to whisper again to you that everything was okay, but he was never in. A strange longing lingered over you, but you were unfailingly too preoccupied with your dream to particularly care about much else.

That night, you had tossed and turned for hours, reluctant to give in to the achingly heavy tug of your eyelids, knowing full well what waited behind them. Eventually, your exhaustion won and you were pulled back into the same, yet evolved, nightmare.

You were probably whimpering or twitching in your sleep when you felt a gentle shaking of your shoulder drag you back to consciousness. Somebody was calling your name, softly, with concern. Your eyes flew open, breathing coming quick and shallow, unable to control the shaking of your limbs.

He knelt beside you on the bed, in a plain t shirt,with messy hair and sleepy eyes. He gently brushed the hair away from your clammy forehead, frowning down at you. “(y/n), what happened?”

You turned your face away, not wanting him to see the tears that were stinging your eyes, threatening to spill, but of course he did, sighing as he reached under the sheets and brought you to his chest, cradling you and murmuring sweet nothings into your hair, his strong arms holding you together. Letting go of all reservations, you clung to him, burying your face in the cotton of his t shirt , and allowed yourself to just sit and cry for the first time, tangling your fingers in his shirt and letting his thumbs draw soothing circles on your exposed arms.

His voice was gentle, but firm. “You’ve been getting nightmares every night.”

You nodded mutely.

You felt his arms grip you tighter. “Since when?”

“Since-” you flinched, “-we saw-” You trailed off, but he seemed to understand. He sounded quietly furious,but he brought a hand up to stroke your hair.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

You tried weakly to suppress a yawn, “I couldn’t find you.”

He sighed. You felt your lids trying to close, forcing yourself to focus on his steady heartbeat and stay awake, but you felt unconsciousness start to drag you down into it’s recently unwelcoming realms.

Jungkook noticed your exhaustion, starting to pry your hands from his shirt and lay you gently down. You groaned, already half asleep, but conscious enough to force one eye open to look pleadingly at him. “Will you sleep with me tonight?”

He sighed again, but you felt his knee gently nudge your stomach as he mumbled, “move over.” You rolled over, feeling his warmth as he slid under the covers behind you, cautiously wrapping his arms around you and fitting your bodies together. You relaxed into his embrace, feeling it tighten around you as he locked his thighs around your hips, his head finding the crook of your neck. You wished you had caught whatever he murmured into the soft skin, but you were already too far gone.

Unsurprisingly, you weren’t bothered by the nightmare again that night.

It became a kind of routine - you would wait up for Jungkook to come back, often so late it was technically considered early, and he would slip under the sheets, cradling you until a dreamless sleep found you, as it always inevitably did. Sometimes he was mad, frustrated, and wouldn’t hold you, but you were fine with locking him your own embrace, resting your head on his chest and feeling the familiar thudding of his heart. He’d gone out of his way for you not to depend on him, but, more than you’d care to admit, needed him now. Too much to be healthy. Not just for sleep, but for happiness, sanity. You were grateful for him spending his nights with you, but one thing disappointed you. Bitterly.

He was always gone by the morning.

my god this fic is killing me what am i doing, i hope you enjoyed this and i s2g i will try to be quicker with the next update im a terrible human, feel free to let me know if you liked this ♡

~admin blue

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xemilysakurax · 9 years ago

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tell me the truth pt.2 [jungkook.2]

pt.1 // pt.2 // pt.3 // pt.4 // pt.5 // pt.6 // pt.6½ // pt.7 // pt.8

genre: hitman au / angst and slightly mature themes

length: 1.9k

a/n: the much requested pt.2 is here

Your crying ceased the moment you saw your boyfriend with a gun in his grasp. There was no way he would do anything to you right?

“[y/n], listen. I’m not going to hurt you as long as you put the gun down.” He had a certain look to him with that gun in his hands. Almost like the gun was an extension of himself; trained.

“Wh- who are you?” your voice was small and very concerned, not only for your safety but for the boy you thought you knew.

“Just. Put the gun down.” he was forceful now and took a step toward you. “My patience is wearing thin. Put the gun down and I can explain everything.”

You found it impossibly hard to trust Jungkook lately, but right now you believed every word. His dark eyebrows were drawn together in focus against his smooth pale forehead and you cursed yourself when you found it attractive.

Afraid to throw the gun down, you bent over to set it gently on the carpet of the closet. Your hands were outstretched in surrender. Who you were surrendering to, you had no clue.

Jungkook immediately lowered the gun pointed at you. He never had it pointed somewhere vital, mostly just your leg, and you didn’t know if you should appreciate that. For Christ sake what the hell were you thinking? It wasn’t normal for boyfriends to be pointing guns at their significant other.

The gun in his calloused hands disappeared behind his back and he began walking towards you, but you ran past him; afraid of him and what he had done, and could do.

You found refuge in the bed, foolishly thinking the blankets would save you.

“[y/n] calm down, you’re safe with me.” his voice trailed from the closet as the clicking noise you recognized as the weapons rack being concealed echoed through the thin walls.

Your heart was beating at an immense speed as you thought about trying to run. It was no use, who knew how skilled Jungkook was.

He exited the closet with his his hands by his side, gun free. You noted the calculating look on his face as he eyed you on the bed.

“Am I?” you asked and almost regretted it.

Jungkook let out a lighthearted chuckle at your ignorance. Instead of answering you, he walked over to the gray, wing-back, decorative chair in the corner of the room across from you. You had some fun times in that chair with him, but right now he was sitting with his legs crossed, his eyes hypnotizing.

Brushing the styled, black bangs from his eyes he huffed. “How about you try to guess what it is that I do.” he smiled. “I’m sure you have some theories by now.” You couldn’t comprehend what on earth he could be smiling about.

“Come on, bounce ‘em off me.” He observed the way you were now hugging your knees to your chest, waiting for you to respond.

“I- I don’t know, you’re an accountant, I have no clu-”

“Think again. Stop bullshitting and tell me what you think I am.” he was stern and his eyes were taunting you.

“You’re a murderer.” you whispered and couldn’t look at him.

“Close.” he thin lips pressed into a sly smirk and his eyebrows lifted, happy you were complying. “I would be lying if I said no to that one actually.”

“Um, you’re a drug dealer.” was your next guess. You focused on his thick thighs, afraid to look him in the eye. He had this dangerously sexy thing going on right now and you hated every part of it.

Reaching behind him, he pulled the gun from his waistband and balanced it on the arm of the chair. Your attention was on the weapon that was still pointed away from you, but you couldn’t calm your heart.

“Look at me in the eyes.” he ordered and you complied.

His eyes dug into your raw and trembling soul as he reached for the gun. The gun shots caused your heart to stop momentarily as you jumped in surprise.

The gun was once again on the arm of the chair and Jungkook was resting his head on his hand, propping it up on the opposite arm.

“Could any ordinary drug dealer do that?” he questioned you with slight distaste in his mouth at the mention of the profession. Too afraid too look, and quite frankly still not sure you were completely unscathed, he had to motion in the direction of where he wanted your attention.

You observed the large painting above your head. It was a fake canvas copy of “Nighthawks” by Edward Hopper than had been a gift from your mother when you first moved in with Jungkook. You had loved it and thought it went well with the dark grey color scheme of Jungkook’s bedroom, so you proudly displayed it above the headboard.

However, now there were two bullet holes in the painting you loved so much. One for each head of the men in fedoras. There was no way he made those shots. The men were microscopic from where Jungkook was stationed on the chair, not to mention the entire execution lasted a matter of a second.

“H- how…” was all you could release as your mind was running through thousands of thoughts.

“Now, time for another guess.” he faintly squinted. “I hope the next one is more creative.”

You were done playing this game, but you were too frightened at his obvious skill level to do what you wanted. “I don’t want to play this game with you, I just-”

“I want you to think.” he interrupted. “Seriously think about it. Process what you know about me: my skill level, our history, what you found today, all of it. Think [y/n].”

You started shaking your head in denial. the weight of the situation realizing itself in your mind. Noticing your panic, Jungkook was hovering over you in seconds. You flinched away from his touch when he reached for you and the terror you felt was settling in. Your body trembled beneath the man you thought you knew.

“Stop,” his voice was instantly more subdued than it had been moments ago in that chair. “I promise, I would never hurt you.”

His slender hands wrapped around you forearms as he attempted to calm your body. His head was inches above your own and he looked genuinely worried about you, his eyes piercing your own.

“You’re an assassin. An executioner.”

“A hitman.” he smiled above you, proud you had pieced it together.

His hands traveled across your skin as he reached your own hands, holding them tightly.

“Are you… are you a good guy?” You felt like you were seven years old when he laughed at your diction. You were happy to see his smile even though he had just confessed his sins to you. Blood stained hands were holding your own.

“I work for them. I’m hardly a good guy.” he answered honestly. “I’d like to think that working for the good side makes me inherently good, but I don’t think it works like that.” he was whispering by now, his voice drawing you in. “Especially not when every time I pull that trigger, or sharpen my knife, someone loses a brother or daughter.” his smile faded.

“You’ve killed a woman?”

“Women commit crimes too.” his eyes lingered on your own before dancing over your skin. “I’ve never killed anyone who didn’t deserve it.” he assured you.

“Do you get, like, paid?” you asked and watched as his eyes made that signature crescent shape you adored when he smiled.

“I certainly don’t do it for free.” his head was bent toward your torso as he chuckled to himself. You realized it was the first time he had laughed like this around you in a while.

“Could I afford to hire you to get rid of the new interns at work?” you wanted to see that smile. His laughter lit you up inside like a fire and you almost didn’t care he had just shot two bullets through your favorite painting and the neighbors had probably heard.

“You definitely can’t afford me.”

He crawled into a more comfortable position above your form laying under him on top of the sheets, his knees encasing you. Noticing his eyes lingering on your skin, you didn’t push him away when his lips made contact with your neck. His lips ghosted over the delicate skin and you had definitely missed this.

“So did you just get tired of the accounting, or?” his motions stopped, but his proximity remained.

“I’ve been training for most of my life.” his words tickled the sensitive skin of your neck, driving your nerves insane.

“Wait so you were doing this the entire time we’ve been together?” your eyes were staring blankly at the ceiling.

“Actually, I’m with you because of what I do.” there was something off about his tone.

“What?” you gently pushed him off of you. “What?” you said it louder and more aggressively, demanding an explanation.

“I needed Intel on the large scale job at the time and it just so happened that getting a job at that company and becoming your lover was the best facade.” he climbed off of the bed and away from you since he could tell the moment was ruined like he knew it would be. Some day you would have found out, whether it be now or a year from now.

“What the hell are you talking about?” you wanted every part of this to be some sick joke.

“I’ve always got small ‘odd’ jobs, but occasionally I have jobs that span years.” he began pacing around the room as you sat up against the headboard. “I was hired for a high-profile contract that would need me to become invested.”

You were the investment.

“I was designed for you to fall for me.” his tone was serious, but he still smiled as that phrase left his lips. “It was all fake at first, but then I really did fall in love with the way you took care of me.” he met your eyes for the first time in his recounting. You didn’t even know what to feel. This could all be a lie, although, his lips on you moments ago seemed too real to be a sham.

“Honestly, you really annoyed me at times, but then it actually hurt me when my secret work would keep me from you.” The pacing still hadn’t stopped. “Even though I knew I should have never gotten attached to you, I did. When I got the notification today that my weapons were being breached, I knew it was you. You had finally grown suspicious enough to snoop on me.”

“Wait, hold on a goddamn minute.” you spoke up. You had processed what he was saying.

“Why, out of all of the people in that office, did you chose me?” A portion of you hated him, wanted him to leave, but a larger part was heartbroken that your relationship had been founded on a lie.

“You were close to the target.” his words were calculated, sure.

None of this was making sense.

“What, wait wh-”

“I told you I would never hurt you, but that was a lie too.” he stopped pacing and his back was to you, his back muscles rippling through his dress shirt as he inhaled deeply.

“Your father is the target.”

[copyright jiminmusings]

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