#i got an e-reader for christmas so i just ordered cute accessories to decorate it ihfdhfd

[littlerequiem]

i just ordered a bunch of cute things someone stop me

[jingabitch]

Lit Up

Summary: Christmas drabble in the Fucked Up verse, in which you leave the house to prepare a Christmas surprise for the boys, who come home early and discover you gone.

Warnings: yandere | explicit language | explicit descriptions of sexual acts | dark shit | reader has major issues

Rating: E

Pairings: mainly Yoongi x reader; bg ot7 x reader

Word count: 4.3k

Series index

Christmas is one of your favourite times of the year. It always has been, since you were a child. You have few fond memories of your childhood, but Christmas had always been nice, and you remember spending time with your family. Back before the drinking and debt and screaming, but even after all that had started, at least at the beginning, your parents had made an effort to have nice Christmas celebrations.

This Christmas, the boys are back home - and so are you. It doesn’t mean that they have the day off, much to your displeasure, but they’d promised to be back in time for dinner. Seokjin bought a ham and there are ingredients for all sorts of delicious side dishes in the fridge. It’s going to be a feast, and you can’t wait.

Still, though. Food does not a Christmas party make. With the boys so busy, you hadn’t dared broach the subject of gifts or decorations, knowing there was no way any of them had the time to accompany you to various stores to pick up everything. Sure, you could order whatever it is you wanted online, but part of the fun of Christmas is the actual shopping, and it’s something you so badly want to share with them.

Fantasies of them coming home to a Christmas tree, all ready for you to decorate together, and prettily wrapped gifts, fill you with delight. It’ll be so much fun, you think, almost clapping your hands with excitement. They aren’t supposed to be home till six, were going to have a late dinner since Seokjin wanted to cook even though he was going to be arriving back at the same time as them… you have plenty of time. You know they would worry if they come back and find you missing, but they won’t be mad if you’re already back, and they see that nothing bad happened to you.

With that thought in mind, you get ready for your first solo trip outside the apartment since you arrived here. As much as you love this place, the thought of going out alone, like you used to, is a heady one. You’ve not even really explored the streets in your neighbourhood, and you used to like taking long walks.

Well, they became a lot more fun when you knew Yoongi was walking with you.

Dressing in your warmest clothes (and filching Yoongi’s scarf because you like the way he smells, okay?) you grab all of the emergency cash in the drawer on your way out, and the keys to Jeongguk’s car. Driving in Seoul isn’t the easiest, but you don’t see any other way to get all the ornaments and gifts, not to mention the tree.

Sitting in the driver’s seat, your overcoat carelessly tossed into the passenger seat, you unlock your phone and deactivate the spyware they’d installed to keep tabs on what you search and where you are. Won’t do to have them figuring out your surprise from you using Google Maps to navigate the city, after all.

Humming under your breath, you turn on the radio absently as you key in the name of the shop you want to go to. You’ve gotten your ornaments from this little hole in the wall since before the boys, since your first Christmas alone in Seoul. It hadn’t been as much fun only buying enough decorations for just your mini-tree and studio apartment, but it had been all right. The handmade items made by the kindly middle-aged lady were pretty enough to make up for it.

As you make your way to the store, the radio starts playing a radio interview with BTS and you giggle to yourself. Your boys are so prim and proper on the air, no one would ever guess that Namjoon wrote half the songs of their latest comeback with his cock tucked inside you, or that Jimin and Taehyung’s friendship is based on commonalities far greater (and kinkier) than both being members of the 95 line.

All those secrets are yours and yours alone, and you smile contentedly as you listen to their nonsensical answers to the question of what their ideal type is, because it’s all bullshit. You know what their ideal type is; because you’ve put in a lot of effort to be that for every one of them.

Parking the car in a roadside lot, you get out and grab all your stuff, spending a minute putting your coat and scarf back on, before locking the door and walking the few doors down to the shop.

“Good morning, aunty!” you say cheerily as you duck slightly to avoid hitting your head on the wind chimes she’d hung over the door.

“Ah, Y/N, hello, sweetheart. I haven’t seen you around recently; you didn’t even come to buy Christmas ornaments last year.��� As your eyes adjust to the relative darkness of the store after being outside in the sun, you spot the shopkeeper standing behind the counter.

“Yeah, I was travelling last Christmas, aunty. I came to get new ones this year, though! I moved into a bigger place and need more this time,” you inform her delightedly, looking around the store. Spotting some delicate crystal ornaments, you move closer to them, and pick one up, a pretty snowflake.

The shopkeeper, seeing what caught your fancy, smiles. “I should have known you’d go for those,” she says. “You might like these to go with that too,” she directs your attention to some sparkly baubles and a wreath that’s white and black instead of the usual green.

Once you’ve bought almost all the snow- and winter-themed decorations in stock, you go all over Seoul buying presents for the boys - an expensive kitchen knife with his initials carved into the handle for Seokjin, a first-edition of one of Namjoon’s favourite books, accessories, clothing and shoes for the more fashion-oriented boys, and so on.

For Yoongi, though, your precious Yoongi, regular gifts will not be enough. What do you buy for the man who gave you everything?

Humming in deep thought, you spin in a circle in the middle of Myeongdong. What should you get? You check the time - it’s already three in the afternoon, and you only have three hours to get his gift, the Christmas tree, and haul ass back to the apartment.

Sighing, you head dejectedly back to the car. There has to be something special you can get for him.

There’s a place that sells Christmas trees near the outskirts of Seoul, and you drive there, humming along to the radio. Christmas really is your favourite time of the year, you think, smiling at the cover of Jingle Bell Rock currently playing. Maybe you’ll be able to persuade some of the boys to serenade you tonight, not that it’s ever difficult to.

On your way to the store, you drive past a tattoo and piercing store and inspiration suddenly strikes you. On a whim, you decide to get your ears pierced to match Yoongi’s. It’s not much, but it’ll be cute, you think, matching his accessories. It can be your little thing, even if no one will ever know since you’ll never be seen in public together.

You only have the basic lobe piercings, so you end up getting three additional holes punched into your earlobes, although thankfully he let his helix piercing close up so you don’t have to do anything like that.

It doesn’t take too long, and before you know it you’re back on track, going to pick up a Christmas tree. You’re just pulling into the parking lot when your phone dies, and you huff. It’s been long enough not going out for a long time, or alone, that you’ve completely forgotten basic things like bringing along a power bank, so you suppose you’ll just have to make do until you get home.

It won’t be that bad - you know the way home, at least - but it makes you a little antsy not being contactable, so you resolve to hurry up so you can go home soon.

There’s just one hitch in your plans, though - the boys got home two hours early. Which you didn’t know, because your phone died and you had no idea they were even blowing it up.

While you were excitedly choosing a pretty tree that you genuinely had no idea how you would muscle up from the garage into the apartment, the boys are walking into said apartment, full of anticipation for your delighted response to them coming back early to spend more of Christmas with you, because of course they know of your love for the holiday.

Yoongi tries (and fails) to hide his excitement as he toes off his shoes before opening the door to the apartment. The others follow more sedately, content to let Yoongi be the one to announce their arrival.

The moment he steps into the apartment, though, he can tell that something is wrong. You don’t appear from behind a corner, or even call out a greeting, as is usual for you. It’s the middle of the day, so you haven’t gone to sleep yet.

Yeontan comes bounding out to greet the boys, but he’s conspicuously alone.

“Y/N?” Yoongi calls, unease slithering down his spine. Yeontan barks, turning around in a circle, and Taehyung picks the dog up.

“Hyung, why are you just standing there?” Hoseok asks, and Yoongi takes a few steps forward so that the rest of the boys can come into the apartment too.

He calls your name again as he walks through the hallway to the living room, then, not finding you, pops his head into the kitchen and then to the bedrooms. The others cotton on fairly quickly to the issue, and help out, opening the doors to their own bedrooms to see if you’re in there.

It becomes obvious that you’re not in the apartment, and this results in chaos and panic among the boys. Yoongi is, of course, the worst off, barely able to comprehend that you would leave. You’d given no indication of being unhappy or dissatisfied, and things had been going great recently. Your relationship is, in every aspect, unusual, but it works for all parties involved - or so he’d thought.

Namjoon, seeing that Yoongi is on the verge of a breakdown, quickly intervenes, guiding the older man to the couch and sitting him down on it.

“Don’t worry,” he reassures him. “We’ll find her, okay? There’s no way she can get away from us all.”

Indeed, the others are already leaping into action. Jeongguk, the one who installed the spy software on your phone, is already booting up his computer to track your location, and the other boys are tearing the apartment apart searching for clues.

“Shit, she took all the money in the drawer,” Hoseok curses as he opens said drawer in the kitchen to check.

“How much was in there?” Jimin asks, looking over his roommate’s shoulder.

Hoseok shrugs and looks over at Namjoon. “I don’t know… I just put some in whenever I had cash on me that I didn’t want to bring out,” he says, and the other boys nod and murmur their agreement.

Concluding that this means you have a lot of cash at your disposal, they sigh heavily and stare despondently at each other. Yoongi looks like he’s about to burst into tears, and Jimin and Taehyung sit next to each other, sulking.

The bad news isn’t done coming, though. Jeongguk stumbles out of his bedroom in shock. “I can’t track her phone,” he breathes, blinking in bewilderment. The others’ gazes snap towards him immediately.

“What do you mean, you can’t track her?” Namjoon demands, hurrying over to push Jeongguk back into his room so they can see his computer.

“Look, the last traced location of her phone is the apartment complex, and that was in the morning,” he explains. “She’s gone off the grid all day.”

“Is the phone off? Did she manage to disable it?” Hoseok asks, peering over the maknae’s shoulder.

“I’ll need to ask my friend, he’s the one who would know how to check.”

“All right, let’s go then.”

Before long, all of them have their marching orders. Jeongguk is going to seek out the friend that wrote the software for him, Namjoon, Hoseok and Jin are going to the bus and train terminals and the airport to see if she left by any of those means, and Taehyung and Jimin are going to review the footage on all the CCTVs installed in and around their apartment complex to see if they have any clues about where you went.

As for Yoongi - Namjoon tells him to stay in the apartment and try to find any clues as to what happened to cause her to suddenly take flight, since he’s the one who knows her best, but really, he looks like such utter shit, barely able to keep himself together, that none of them think it’s a good idea for him to be out in public right now.

Blissfully unaware of all the chaos you’ve caused in your home, you hum along to the song playing on the radio as you return to the apartment complex, zipping neatly into Jeongguk’s designated parking lot. As you climb out of the car, you hum thoughtfully to yourself as you eye the tree shoved into the backseat and think about all the packages in the boot. There’s no way you’ll be able to bring it all up in one go, and you sigh as you wish for a moment that the boys had come with you, because all that muscle would sure come in handy right about now.

With a sigh, you yank open the car door and wrestle the tree out of the backseat, bumping the door shut with your hip after. Somehow managing to get it to the lift lobby, you heave out a breath and press the button for the elevator. 

By the time you push, pull and pivot your way back to the apartment, you’ve broken out in a sweat and your muscles are screaming. Putting the tree down, you key in the code for the lock, taking the opportunity to lean against the door. When the lock makes that little jingle and you hear the door unlock, you pull it open and push it carefully so it stays that way, retrieving the tree and bringing it into the entryway.

You’re taking your shoes off and getting ready to open the door into the apartment proper when it bursts open unexpectedly. With a little squeak of surprise, you take a step back, looking up with wide eyes.

“Yoongi-oppa…” you greet him out of habit, although your voice trails off uncertainly as you take in the expression on his face. “What are you doing home so early?”

He glares at you, his arms crossed over his chest, although when you look closer, you can see that although he tries to look steely and furious, his hair is a mess from his hands running through it, parts of his shirt are soaked through with sweat, and it looks like there are tear streaks on his face.

“Are you okay?” you ask in concern, letting go of the tree to take a step towards him.

“Where have you been?” he spits out instead of answering your question, in a tone you’ve never heard from him before. It’s husky and soft, almost wavering like he’s in anguish, but dangerous, a thread of steel running through it. 

Shit. You don’t know what happened while you were gone, but with the way he looks and sounds, you can tell you’re going to be in for a rough time. “Oppa - ” you say, holding your hands out placatingly, but he’s having none of it as he grabs your wrist and yanks you to him. You stumble up the step leading into the apartment and crash ungracefully into him, your free hand going to his waist to stabilize yourself.

“Who told you you could leave without permission?” he grinds out, the hand that doesn’t have a death grip on your wrist going to grasp your face, his long fingers stretching over your jawline as he holds you fast, making sure you couldn’t look away from him if you tried.

“I… I wanted to surprise you, oppa, with Christmas gifts and a tree for everyone,” you try to explain meekly, although your words come out a little muffled because he’s still gripping your jaw. His grip tightens a little, and you wince. “Oppa, you’re hurting me,” you protest.

“I’m hurting you?!” he exclaims incredulously. “Do you fucking know what you’ve done? Everyone is out there looking for you, because you vanished without a word. Do you know how…” he pulls you further into the apartment, into the hallway just past the entrance, “worried,” he pushes you to the floor roughly, “we all were?!” His hands on your hips flip you around so you’re on all fours, desperately craning your neck back to see him.

His expression is pinched as he glares down at you, his throat working convulsively as he swallows. His eyes, though - they make you clench down on yourself almost involuntarily. His gaze is so intense, swirling with anger and something like despair, and yet another emotion that you can’t quite place. The lust, though, is extremely evident in both his eyes and the set of his jaw.

Rooting in his pocket for his phone, he slides it across the floor to you. “Call Namjoon now and tell him where you’ve been,” he orders tightly.

You’re confused - everything has been happening so damn quickly - but the way he unbuckles his belt clarifies things for you real quick. It feels a little wrong for you to be reacting so quickly and viscerally, especially when you know that Yoongi isn’t in the best state emotionally, but you can’t help it.

“I don’t hear you calling him,” he bites out, fighting with the layers of clothing you have on. It must be a comical sight, you’re sure - the long coat half flipped over your back, your upper half still completely clothed and looking like a puffy dumpling as he fiercely tugs the pants and leggings over your legs. It’s getting a little warm, and you balance yourself with one hand as you unwrap Yoongi’s scarf with the other, dropping it carelessly on the ground next to you. You try to fiddle with the overcoat, but before you have a chance to do anything more than unzip it, Yoongi yanks the clothing covering your legs all the way off and you squeal in surprise as your knees go flying, causing your entire body to drop to the ground.

You barely have time to register the pain, however, because the next thing you know, Yoongi’s fingers are thrusting harshly into you. As wet as you are, you aren’t quite ready and the pain ricochets through your body, causing you to clamp down hard as your brow furrows in discomfort.

“Why are you so wet, hmm? Does it turn you on to run away from me?” Yoongi hisses, fingering you roughly to open you up even as he knocks your knees apart further and gets into position behind you.

“I - what?” Bewildered, you try to sit back to ask him why he was so upset, but he pushes you back down with his hand between your shoulder blades, sliding it up to grip the back of your neck as he lines himself up and thrusts savagely into you, bottoming out in one stroke.

You cry out, your hands clenching into fists as you turn to press your face against the smooth material of your jacket. With your face buried in your shoulder like that, your cries are muffled, but he’s not having any of it, gripping your hair into a loose ponytail with the hand that was on your neck and yanking your head back.

“Call. Namjoon,” he orders, punctuating every word with a snap of his hips. Bracing yourself by lowering your elbows onto the ground, you fiddle with his phone with shaky hands, barely able to handle it with the punishing pace he’s set, jostling you around like that.

When you finally manage to call Namjoon, you drop it on the floor between your fists, letting the phone ring on speaker.

“Hyung, what’s up?” comes Namjoon’s harried voice.

If you thought that Yoongi would let up on you a little, so you could actually speak to Namjoon the way he seemed to want, you’re wrong.

“Joonie-oppa, I- agh.” Whatever you were about to say cuts off in a garbled moan as Yoongi takes the opportunity to slam into you, harder than ever before. You skid across the floor, not helped by the fact that you’re still wrapped up in your coat which doesn’t allow you to get a good grip on the marble.

“Y/N?! Is that you?” Namjoon demands.

“Ye - ngh - yes.” Your mewl, coupled with the rhythmic grunts and groans Yoongi is releasing as he presses his chest to your back, sucking livid marks into your neck, give Namjoon a fairly clear idea of what’s going on.

“Jesus, Y/N, are you at home? Where the hell have you been?”

Your attempt to reply is foiled by Yoongi sneaking a hand down your body to strum at your clit, causing your mind to blank as you clench down on him, causing both of you to groan in unison.

“Jesus,” Namjoon mutters. “I’ll talk to you when I get home,” he says before hanging up.

With that out of the way, Yoongi redoubles his efforts to work you over, fucking you hard and fast even as he continues his ministrations on your clit. “No one else can fuck you this good, can they? Only I can make you feel like this,” he growls in your ear.

You’re so lost in the onslaught of sensation he’s forcing onto you that you don’t answer him fast enough for his liking, and he retaliates with a pinch to your clit. “Can they?!” he repeats in a hard voice, and you cry, “No, only you!”

That seems to satisfy him, and he rewards you by driving you up to orgasm faster than has ever happened before, but right before you’re about to tumble headfirst into ecstasy, he slows down, so the orgasm hovers right out of your grasp. Holding you still as you writhe and cry in protest, he asks, in the same harsh tone as before, but with a strange note of vulnerability threaded through it, “You won’t leave me again, will you? You’ll stay with me always?”

Confused again, and barely able to marshal your senses to figure out why he was being like that, you sob in frustration. If he wants to have a serious conversation, why now? Why does he sound so pained, desperate, anguished?

“Y/N!” he cries out, and you can physically feel him holding his orgasm back as he waits for your response.

“No, I won’t leave,” you finally force out, and immediately he slams back into you, biting down savagely on your neck as he comes harder than you ever recall. Feeling him release into you triggers your own orgasm, and you press your cheek to the ground as you keen.

When it’s over, you slump to the ground, now uncomfortably sticky in your clothes but lacking the coordination and strength to remove the layers. Yoongi, still breathing hard, helps flip you over onto your back and pushes the coat off your shoulders, holding it still while you wriggle your arms out of it.

Now far more comfortable, you shed the other layers you were wearing, only stopping when you’re lying nude on the floor, blinking up at Yoongi, who’s still fully dressed. He stares down at you with an inscrutable gaze, and you hold your arms out for him, inviting him to cuddle.

He looks hesitant, but ultimately can’t resist and lies down on the ground next to you, reaching over to pull you closer into his side.

“I’m sorry I was so rough earlier,” he apologizes. “I just got a little crazy at the thought that you had run away.”

Your heart breaks at that. “Oh, sweetie - I never wanted to run away. I was just getting presents and a tree so we could have a nice Christmas celebration,” you explain. “Besides, it’s nothing I couldn’t handle,” you reassure him with a squeeze of his hand, referencing some of the other boys’ rougher proclivities.

“Still,” he persists, brushing your sweaty hair away from your forehead. “You were just gone when we came back, and all the money in the drawer was too, and then Jeongguk said he couldn’t trace-” Suddenly aware that he’s said too much, he clams up.

“Oh, I had to deactivate the tracker or else it wouldn’t have been a surprise, then my phone died,” you explain with a little wave of your hand. “Speaking of which-” You sit up and dig around in your purse, which had been dropped carelessly on the ground. Finding your phone, you get up and go to the bedroom you share with Yoongi to plug it in.

He follows you, looking slightly lost. “You knew about the tracker?”

You turn and smirk at him. “Have you forgotten what my job was?” A former programmer, you’d realised the day they installed the software that it was there.

“Oh,” was all he could think to say.

You can hear his busy little brain buzzing as you fuss with the items on your bedside table, but it’s still completely unexpected when you turn around to find him on one knee, holding a ring in his hands.

“Will you marry us?”