Work Text:
The first time it happens, it’s one of your coworkers. You’re sad, in the sense that all death is sad, but random acts of violence happen. Sure, never to anyone you’ve known before, but you only have to turn on the news to know it happens. So, while you’re sad to hear the news of his death and slightly horrified when you learn of the details you weren’t supposed to know, it didn’t really affect you, and, you’ll never admit it to anyone, you’re secretly glad you won’t have to deal with his wandering hands anymore.
The second time it happens, it’s the barista who had given you his number a few days earlier. You had laughed awkwardly when he winked and told you to call him sometime. You drank the coffee and threw the cup away without giving him a second thought. Not until you’re seeing his face in the news, that is. Suddenly, the extravagant coffee maker that had been delivered only the day before that you’d thought was from your mom, seems less like a loving gift and more like something ominous.
You shake your head to clear the thoughts. It’s a coincidence and you’re working yourself up. You’re not the connection between two completely random murders and the coffee maker was a gift. You’ll text your parents tomorrow and they will confirm, and it will be fine. There is no reason the murders would have anything to do with you.
Still, it takes you longer to fall asleep that night.
The third time…
The third time it’s the man two floors down from you who offered to help you carry your groceries. The elevator was broken, and he’d seen you with arms full staring up at the stairs in defeat. You had even made him coffee as thanks. And now he was dead.
Your heart begins to race when they show the note found with his body. The handwriting looks familiar, and you pause the program. Frantically, you dig through the crumpled papers in your side table until you find it. His name, number, and the instructions to call him sometime. You stare back at the words on the TV, hand over your mouth in an attempt to hold back a sob as you read the words over and over again.
‘Have you already forgotten? You’re mine.”
“Look! I’m telling you it’s him!” You wave the wrinkled note under the nose of the incredibly unhelpful police officer. “This note is in his handwriting! If you just compared the two, I’m sure you’d see it too!”
The police officer sighs heavily and you grit your teeth, already knowing they have decided not to believe you. Or, at least not to care. “Ma’am, as I’m sure you can imagine, we are very busy. We have no way of identifying your… note. I’m afraid it means nothing.”
You bare your teeth at them, unable to hold back in your fear. “This is serious! What if he comes for me next?”
They sigh again, and it’s obvious they think you’re just being paranoid, “Have you considered moving? Or perhaps staying with a friend?”
You storm out of the station, note crumpled once more and clenched tightly in your fist. Move? That was their solution? Or stay with a friend! As if you would put your friends in danger like that! Well, if you had more friends nearby you wouldn’t, anyways. It had been a week since the last murder, but you were sure he was still around. You were so worried about him targeting someone else, that you had even called out of work and stayed home. Even now, you can’t stop glancing around as you walk home, feeling as if his eyes are on you.
You weren’t sure what scared you more, the fact that you neverwould have expected him to do something like this, or the fact that part of you desperately wanted to see Jeon Jungkook again.
Thankfully, you get home without incident. You hadn’t been able to shake the feeling you were being followed but exhaled in relief when you saw your apartment door, only to stop short.
There was something leaning against your door.
You whip your head back and forth in the brightly lit hall, looking for a familiar silhouette, but see nothing. Before you can chicken out, you grab the package and rush into your apartment, locking the door the second it closes. Your hands shake as you open the inconspicuous package. It’s unmarked, just a sealed brown envelope, but somehow that makes it worse. Means it wasn’t sent.
It was delivered.
Inside, you find a DVD, and your mind starts racing. Did he film one of the murders? Is this the evidence you need? And, even if it is, are you really going to hand it over? You shake your head once, of course you’ll hand it over. After you watched to be sure it was really evidence and not something else. Your hand is still trembling when you press play. Suddenly, your apartment is filled with all too familiar sounds. You cover your mouth and gasp as your bodies come into focus on screen. You’re moaning with your hands tangled in his hair as he fucks you with his tongue.
‘Ah! Kookie! Yes! Just like that!’
Your voice is breathy and desperate, and you feel yourself heating up as you watch the two of you on screen. You should probably turn it off, this is what he wants. Wants you to remember him, to think about him like this, and you shouldn’t, but it’s working. You can’t tear your eyes from the TV. Enthralled with what’s happening, you slip your hand in your panties. You’re already wet, so wet, and you slide your fingers through your folds, teasing yourself and wishing it was his hand instead. When he slides into you on screen, you slip two fingers inside your dripping cunt as deep as they’ll go and give a frustrated cry when it’s not deep enough.
In the video, your legs are wrapped around his hips and your nails leave marks on his shoulders as he fucks you. Part of you wonders if you should feel violated, you hadn’t even known he was filming at the time, but right here, right now, you can’t find it in you to care. Then, you hear something that makes your legs stiffen and your stomach clench.
‘You’re mine.’ The Kookie on screen says, almost inaudible over your keening release. ‘Say it!’ He demands as he pounds into you.
‘I’m yours!’
‘Only mine.’ He growls out and in your living room, you shudder, holding off your release, wanting to know, hoping to remember what he said and what you said, wondering how you could have forgotten them. ‘Forever mine.’
‘Yes! Yes! Only yours! Forever yours…. Kookie!’
You cry out his name on screen and alone in your living room, almost missing what he says next as he finds his own release in your willing body.
‘You’re mine. Forever. I’ll always come for you.’
The video cuts off and turns to static. You’re left sitting with your hand still in your panties, covered with your own release. His words were soft, barely more than a whisper, and you wonder how the camera caught them. In your chest, emotion swells like a balloon, filling the places between your rib cage. He just wants you. Forever.
You’re still reeling, when your phone rings. Eyes still locked on the blank screen, you dig through your purse. The call stops, then starts again. Finally, you find the device, pull it out, and look at who’s calling. It’s a number you don’t recognize. You hesitate only for a moment, it could be a wrong number, or it could be one of the officers you’d given your number to an hour earlier.
“Hello?”
“Baby.”
He says the endearment like a benediction and you, god help you, you’re happy.
“Jungkook.” His name feels heavy in your mouth, taking up too much space and pushing against your teeth. It’s a relief to say it.
“It’s a good video isn’t it?” He says, and your eyes widen. You glance around your small apartment, but don’t see anything out of place.
“You’re so beautiful when you cum, baby. I love seeing you. Hearing you moan my name.”
Fear locks your throat and you look over at the window. The blinds are down, but there are cracks in them someone could see through. Shaking, you stand and move toward the window.
“Of course, it’s even better when I’m there. When I can see you and touch you and taste you…” he moans, low and breathy into the phone. Your heart is racing, and your palms are clammy as you draw near the window. You take a shuddering breath and pull the blinds up, not giving yourself any more time to think about what you might see…
The fire escape is empty.
No one is outside your window.
You release the breath you were holding and he chuckles.
“Did you see my gifts?” He sounds eager, and you can picture his smile and the way his eyes light up when he’s excited.
You choke off a sob.
“I- I did.” Your voice is hoarse, and you swallow, then try again, “I did, Kookie. Can- can we meet? We need to talk.”
“Did you like them? They won’t bother you anymore. I made sure of that.”
You pull the phone away from your mouth, unable to hide your surprised gasp. Your heart and mind are at war hearing his voice and you’re wondering how much longer you can keep it together. “I- thank you for thinking of me. I really want to see you. Can we meet?”
“You want me to come by your place?”
“No!” You say too quickly, “I mean, my place is a mess. Let’s meet at the cafe around the block. You know which one I’m talking about?”
“The one near the bus stop?”
“Yeah. Yeah. That one. Meet me there in 15 minutes?”
“Okay! I can’t wait to see you. Hurry.”
He hangs up and you bite your lip, staring at your phone again. You should call the police. They could plant officers, catch him as he confesses to you…. you put your phone in your pocket and grab your coat. You’re scared, but not as scared as you probably should be. You just want to see him and that desire is strong enough to outweigh your fear.
You don’t make it far before someone grabs you and pulls you into the dark alleyway behind your building. You try to cry out, but a hand around your mouth muffles your screams even as the arm around your waist pulls you closer to them.
“Shhh… baby. It’s just me.” He says and licks up your neck then nibbles on your earlobe. “Oh baby I missed having you pressed against me like this. Did you miss me?”
His breath tickles your ear and you shiver against him. Your heart is beating wildly against your rib cage and your breath is coming in pants and yet, you can’t stop yourself from melting into his grasp. His hand leaves your mouth to cup your face, turning you to look up at him.
“I knew you missed me.” He says before capturing your lips in a searing kiss. The video is fresh in your mind and you moan into his mouth. You can feel his smile against your lips, but before you can completely give into him, you pull away, wrapping your arms around yourself.
“I thought we were meeting at the cafe?”
He smirks, and reaches for you once more, but you step back.
“Did you really think I was going to let you set me up like that? I know you tried to tell the cops about me.” His words are calm, too calm. And you have the sudden realization that even if they knew, the police wouldn’t have done anything. Not to this man.
The thought shouldn’t flood you with relief, but it does.
“I didn’t call them. I thought about it, but I didn’t. I just wanted to see you.” You bite your lip and step closer to him, looking up at him from under your lashes, “You can’t do this anymore Kookie. I want you to stop. And just why Kookie? Why did you do it?”
His lip curls and he turns away from you, stalking to the other side of the alleyway. “You left me.” He says and turns back to you, eyes alight with fervor, “You left me, and I looked for you. I waited for you to call me. Message me. Anything. And there was nothing.”
“I-“
“You left and you came here and- and just moved on?” He steps closer and grabs your shoulders, jostling you, “You’re the only one for me. I tried… I tried to be with others, but every time I closed my eyes I could only see your face, call your name. And the few that looked almost like you, enough like you that I thought I could pretend, pretend that it was okay that you left me. But it wasn’t working. I only want you.”
You pull away from him, and you know the hurt and confusion you feel is etched on your face. Hurt because he was with other women, and you were jealous. Jealous that while you had been single and celibate since leaving him months ago, he hadn’t even tried to be.
Confused because as much as it hurt, you were… you were… flattered. It was an odd feeling, one you weren’t sure was healthy, but there it was.
He follows you and tries to take hold of you again, but, once more, you move away from him.
“You’re upset. Why? Because I slept with other women? They meant nothing!” His voice echoes around the otherwise empty alleyway, repeating nothing, nothing, nothing.
“Not like you! I didn’t even- it wasn’t real. They weren’t real. Not like you.”
When you still refuse to let him near you, his face crumples and you reach for him, before pulling back at the last second.
“I haven’t slept with anyone else.” You confess softly. “Not since you.”
“Oh, baby.” His voice is soft and he’s looking at you like you’ve hung the moon. “I knew you felt it too, that we’re meant to be.”
He reaches for you again, and, once more, you pull away, turning your face from him.
“If you really believe that, why did you fuck around with others?”
He groans and sounds like he’s in pain when he speaks, “Please baby. Please don’t be mad! How can I make it up to you? You know I love you. Haven’t I shown you how much I love you? I’ll do anything. Please.”
For you, time is frozen. You know he’s still talking, but you’ve stopped listening. You thought… you’d thought it was a fling for him and had left to protect your heart. But now… now he just said he loves you. And you… you…
“Fuck. Jungkook….” you reach for him and wrap your arms around his neck, push up on your tiptoes, and pull his lips to yours. There’s nothing gentle about your kiss. You’re still mad and he’s still deranged and you don’t care.
His hands find your waist and he backs you against the brick wall. You hit, hard, and bite his lip in retaliation. He groans and runs his large hands up your sides, lifting your shirt and palming your breasts through your bra. His leg is between your knees and thigh brushes against your core. You slide down enough to grind yourself against his thigh and reach for his zipper.
“This is… so wrong.” You pant as his lips find the underside of your jaw. “You’re crazy.”
“For you.” He murmurs in agreement and your heart skips a beat.
He pushes down your pants roughly, not bothering to unbutton them, and your panties go with them. He shoves two fingers deep into your cunt without any warning. “You’re so wet baby. Admit it, you missedme.”
“I did. I missed you and I missed this.” You say and palm him through his boxers. His length is hard and warm under the soft, slightly damp, fabric.
“I know.” He says, then pulls away from you. You cry out at the loss of his fingers and lips and gasp when he spins you so you’re facing the wall. “Hands up here baby.”
He grabs your wrists and places your hands on either side of your head, uses his arm around your waist to pull you back until you’re almost bent in half. His fingers run through your folds and dip inside once more and pumps a few times before he pulls out again. You feel the blunt head of his cock against your wet core and push back as he thrusts into you.
You’re still sensitive from earlier, so when the rough pad of his finger finds your pearl, you buck back against him.
“Tell me,” he begins as he sets a brutal pace, his chest pressed against your back, keeping you still. “Tell me you love me.”
His voice is soft in your ear, his breath warm, yet his tone his icy. You can suddenly see how this man, this man who you were pressing back against, trying to get him deeper, could murder three people.
You gasp, but say nothing, too confused to respond. You’re close to the edge already, and the fog of pleasure is clouding your already tangled thoughts.
“Say it.” He growls, low and deep in your ear as he moves his finger, pressing harder and rubbing in small circles. “Tell me you love me.”
He bites your neck and sucks hard. “I love you!” You cry out as the combined sensations become too much and you fall. He groans and stills as his cum paints your inner walls white.
“I love you.” He whispers, still cumming deep inside you. “I love you so much I ache.”
“I- I love you too, Kookie.” Your words hitch in your throat as everything rushes back to you. What he’s done. What you’ve just done.
He pulls up your pants and straightens your clothes, then spins you around to look at him. He’s smiling at you and it’s soft and sweet and your heart aches.
“Shhh, it’s okay baby. We’re together again. That’s what matters” he says, cupping your wet cheeks in his large, warm hands. He presses a kiss to your forehead, “And I’ll never let you go.”