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colormepurplex2 · 6 months

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Bump In The Night | MYG

▻ Bump In The Night ↳ Bogeyman!Yoongi x f.Reader ⤜ Horror/Thriller/Demon, Nyctophobia ⤜ Monster Under The Bed AU | angst, smut ⤜ Rating: MA ⤜ WC: 12,395 ⤜ Summary: The dark can be scary; full of strange, unseen things. Just when you think you’ve got a handle on your fear, the lights go out, and you face the reality that you were always right—you should fear the dark and especially what’s waiting in it. ⚠️ Crass language, fear, inciting fright, playing on emotions, teasing, kissing, fingering, biting/marking, dom tones, begging, choking, panic, unprotected v. sex, feeding on fear, dark thoughts, revealed dark intentions, predator/prey tones, chasing, claiming, serpentine tongue, oral f.receiving, monster cock/sex, metamorphosis

Written for the BTS Fantasy and Fangs Halloween collab for @minisugakoobies A/N: Sunny, I hope you enjoy this as much as I did while writing it. Happy belated birthday and hope you have a pleasant spooky holiday full of Bogeyman Yoongi delight!

A special thank you to @star-my @hisunshiine and @downbad4yoongi for their amazing beta services!

Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad

Beg For It

Nyctophobia [ nik-tuh-foh-bee-uh ] - noun Psychiatry: extreme or irrational fear of the night or of darkness.

One…

Two…

Three…

Breathe. Another few seconds, that’s all you want; just precious moments to prove yourself.

Four…

Five…

Six…

Cold chills slither down your spine despite the hot water beating against your back. Your fingers work vigorously against your cheeks and along your forehead. What feels like a thousand pounds settles along your lashes, even though you know it’s nothing more than marshmallowy-light foam.

Seven…

Eight…

Nin—

You spin around, nearly losing your footing in the shower as you angle your face under the spray from the showerhead. The heels of your palms press against your lids as you try to rid them of the foamy facial cleanser.

Air wheezes into your lungs, stray drops of water sucking between your parted lips as you try to breathe against the panic building in your chest. Jerking back from the spray, you open your eyes, wincing at the sting from the water-mixed-with-cleanser that drips from your lashes and floods the corners.

Nothing. There’s nothing there. All you see is the steam-filled space of your shower, water pelting down at your feet, a smattering of bottles arranged on the lip of the tub, and the inside of your plain shower curtain.

You sigh, irritation itching in your chest. Not even nine seconds. You were trying for at least ten. It never fails to leave a bitter taste in your mouth whenever you can’t seem to get a grip on yourself. It’s just the dark. Hell, it’s not even really the dark. It’s just having your eyes closed against the bright fluorescent lights of your bathroom; a pseudo-darkness.

The unease in your stomach refuses to dissipate as you turn off the shower, step out, wrap yourself in a towel, and go through the routine of brushing your teeth and massaging moisturizer into your skin. You hang up your damp towel, quickly pulling on the oversized t-shirt and shorts you intend to sleep in.

Steam clouds the mirror. You don’t typically care to wipe it away, not anymore. It’s one of your small, personal victories—one you intentionally remind yourself of now after your panicked stint in the shower. It used to be that you couldn’t stand not being able to see the space behind you through the reflective surface. Knowing if something lurked outside your line of sight, it couldn’t hide from being exposed through the mirror. Being able to see behind you was all that mattered. Now, you take pride in not needing to see…yet, the niggling in the back of your head won’t cease. So, you swipe a hand, collecting tiny beads of moisture on your palm as you go.

You’re unsure why the act makes your heart beat a little harder. It’s supposed to elicit the calm you so desperately need. But, once you’ve slashed a clear path across the mirror, your brow furrows as you lean in closer to it. Cold dread thunders through your veins as you jerk back, spinning on your heel to make sure what you saw through the mirror wasn’t just your mind playing a trick on you.

Nope, not a trick or even a figment of your imagination…unfortunately.

You stare in paranoid disbelief at the slender gap along the bottom of the bathroom door. The door that leads into your bedroom where you are absolutely, without a doubt, positive you left your bedside lamp on. The gap is dark, like a void threatening to suck you right into an endless nightmare of unrelenting terror. All that’s missing is a gaunt, skeletal hand sliding its too-long fingers under the door.

Shoving away those intrusive thoughts before they can take root and further fester like a dirty wound on your sanity, you try to think logically. It’s possible the bulb in your lamp could have blown, but you know you replaced it just last month. It’s far too soon for it to blow on its own, and surely, it’s not a faulty bulb. So, why is it out? Were you careless and, in truth, didn’t turn it on? A manic laugh gets caught in your throat as you silently berate yourself. That must be it. You simply forgot. So careless.

Fear is an acrid taste on your tongue as you slowly approach the door. You hate this feeling. Even though you tell yourself there’s nothing out there lurking in the dark to harm you, you simply forgot to leave the light on. The distress doesn’t subside—and it won’t. At least, not until you open the door and prove the dark to harbor no ill intent toward you.

Squaring your shoulders and taking what is supposed to be a calming and fortifying breath, though it feels more like sand slipping into your lungs, you wrap your fingers firmly around the brushed nickel handle. The metal is warm, slightly wet from the condensation formed during your shower, against your palm as you twist it.

You lick your trembling lips, taking one more moment to center yourself. Your eyes slide closed as you mentally recall the layout of your room, calculating how many steps there are to get to the nearest light switch. Your bed is angled so the foot faces the bathroom door, and the closet door to the left near the two windows you know are closed tight with the curtains drawn. The bedroom door is easily the furthest from the bathroom, leaving the overhead light out of the question. You knew, before you even began to analyze, that the bedside lamp you recall yourself leaving on is going to be the closest light source. Still, you needed to go through the motion of solidifying that information in your mind.

As you haltingly push it open, the quiet creak of the door, which sounds deafening in the silence of the bathroom, causes chills to pop up along your arms and the hairs at the nape of your neck to stand on end. Darkness ebbs as the light from the bathroom bleeds across the hardwood of your bedroom floor, slowly revealing the interior of your room.

Your heart lurches, and a scream rips from your chest when you see a dark figure sitting at the end of your bed come into focus as the bathroom door swings further open, the handle barely held in your now numb fingers. Panic barrels through you. Your muscles react instinctively, fingers tightening around the knob as you jerk back, the door closing with a harsh bang as you backpedal across the bathroom.

“Babe,” calls a playful voice from just on the other side of the door. You can barely hear it over the roaring in your ears. Nausea threatens to double you over, even as relief floods your system—such conflicting emotions that you feel suddenly off-kilter.

There is a fine sheen of cold sweat clinging to your neck. Your hands fist into the front of your shirt as the door eases open to reveal your boyfriend standing at the threshold. His dark ensemble makes it seem like the bathroom's light bends around his form, not daring to touch him.

You’ve never liked it when someone intentionally scares you, claiming it’s a joke. It always seems more like a cruel prank than a laughing matter. Though, you note, no one is laughing right now either way. He doesn’t look smug or self-satisfied for having scared you, just simply mildly amused.

“You scared me, Yoongi,” you state flatly, crossing your arms over your chest, hoping he picks up on your discomfort.

The corners of his lips turn down, and his brow furrows as he gives you an exaggerated pout. Even with your pounding heart and the upside down in your belly, you can’t help but appreciate how cute he is when he does that. “I know. I just didn’t see the point in wasting the power if you weren’t going to be in there.” He gestures vaguely behind him to your room, which is barely lit by the light pouring out of the bathroom.

It’s on the tip of your tongue to remind him that even though you weren’t in there, he was. Though, for some reason, Yoongi sitting in the dark doesn’t strike you as out of place. In the five years you’ve been together, you’ve learned to love his odd quirks just as much as any other part of him. He’s genuine, a caring person who isn’t afraid to be vulnerable—a far cry from anyone else you’ve ever given your time to.

“How was work?” you ask, aiming to get back on track with some semblance of normalcy—anything to not dwell on the lingering discomfort that’s still beating away in your chest.

His shoulders hitch up in a nonchalant manner. “Same as always. There’s been a big break in the Hunt case. Director Park thinks we’ll have the code cracked in a few more days. I say by tomorrow night, tops, just in time for our date. It’ll be a reward for my hard work,” his eyes twinkle with mirth. “After all, I think Samhain is a pretty fitting day for dealing with evil, huh?”

You make a noncommittal sound at that last part. Yoongi might enjoy that thought, but to you, tomorrow is more so just a day…simply October 31st and is more about plastic pumpkins, like the ones you have sitting on your front porch, than dealing with evil like that. The fact that Yoongi has convinced you to go to a festival tomorrow night is so wild you’ve been forcing yourself not to think about it.

“Well, I’d put my money on you over Director Park any day,” you say instead, giving him a soft, knowing smile. Yoongi has a penchant for estimations. If he thinks it’ll only take another day to crack a code that’s been wreaking havoc on Interpol for the better part of a year, then you believe him. You don’t pretend to understand all the intricacies of what he does; just know he’s really good with computers and helps whichever government agency needs it most or something like that.

Yoongi gives you a lazy smile in return. “Mmm, that’s what I like to hear. Your confidence in me is like kindling for my fervor,” he croons, wrapping you up in his arms. It feels good to relax in his embrace, the last vestiges of your earlier panic melting away as you soak in his warmth and familiarity. “Sorry I scared you,” he murmurs into your damp hair. “Let me make it up to you.”

“What did you have in mind?” you ask, laughing softly when his fingers slip under the hem of your shirt and teasingly caress your sides—the touch is light, making your skin tighten and prickle in response.

A rumbling groan vibrates through Yoongi’s chest as he playfully nips along your jaw before planting his lips firmly over yours in a dizzying and claiming way. “We’ll start with kissing,” the words are whispered between plucks of his mouth against yours, tongue swiping sensually across your bottom lip.

“Kissing is good,” you agree, smiling against his mouth before melting into another heated tangle of tongues and stilted breaths. That fist around your heart eases, letting your chest expand fully for the first time since before you showered.

“Biting,” he murmurs, pulling away from the kiss to bury his face in your neck. The light pressure of his teeth pressing against your skin has your toes curling against the cold tile floor and your fingers fisting into the front of his shirt.

Yoongi plants his mouth right over your pulse point, his tongue flicking over your throbbing vein as his teeth clamp down gently. You swallow hard against the sensation, your heart shifting gears to thud fast in your chest for a different reason. It’s not necessarily fear that drives your senses higher now so much as it is anticipation and an increase in adrenaline—terror adjacent, something you prefer much more to the former.

You shudder against him, knees going weak as he moans, the sound sending pulsing shocks of vibrations down your spine with how his mouth fits against your neck. His fingers ghost along your shorts before finally pushing past the elastic band. The palms of his hands are warm as they slide around and grip handfuls of your ass.

Using his hold on you, Yoongi lifts you up onto the counter beside the sink. As his hands retreat, they tug your shorts with them, working them around the curve of your ass until they’re caught at your knees. You let him push them further until they slacken and fall to catch around your ankles, then onto the floor. Wincing slightly at how cold the counter is against your bare skin, you urge him to fill the space between your thighs, seeking his warmth flush against you once again.

“Yoongi,” you hiss, sucking in a sharp breath as he slides a hand between your bodies and presses the flat of his fingers against your pussy. You don’t need to look in the mirror to know his teeth have left an impression on your neck. He leans back and licks his lips in a show of appreciation, lidded eyes full of mischief and barely veiled lust. “Please.” It comes out warbled as he teases his middle finger between your lower lips.

“Beg for it,” he says. “Show me how much you want me to make you forget about the darkness.” His voice has an edge, like he’s teasing at something, but it’s lost on you to piece together what it might be.

Sucking in a deep breath, you repeat your plea, “Please.”

Your chest is rising and falling rapidly, and you can feel your erratic heartbeat pounding between your legs and under the sensitive skin of your neck that Yoongi ravaged with his teeth. Lightheadedness kisses the edges of your clarity, daring you to get lost in the delirium that Yoongi is offering.

“You can do better than that,” Yoongi taunts, his laugh low and husky as he pulls away, leaving you bereft of his touch where you want it most. “Beg. For. It.” The words are clipped, punctuated with staccato taps of his middle finger against your sensitive clit.

“Fuck—Yoongi, please! Please, I need you!”

“That’s my girl,” Yoongi smiles wickedly. Two slender fingers sliding into your wet heat are your reward. “You’re so wet already. Look at how your body is pulling me in. Fuck, that’s nice.” He angles himself so you can both look down and watch his fingers slowly pull out, glistening with your arousal before sinking back in.

Your body squeezes around his fingers, walls fluttering in anticipation and building pleasure. “Need you,” you mumble, grabbing at the button on the front of his dark wash jeans with one hand and tugging at the bottom of his black t-shirt with the other. “Fuck me, Yoongi, please. Please, fuck me. I need you to make me forget.”

A flurry of motion accompanies his answering growl of approval as he helps you strip him out of his clothes and the rest of your own. You barely feel the absence of his fingers in your cunt before he pulls your ass to the edge of the counter and shoves his cock inside with a guttural moan that echoes in the small space.

The fit of him inside your body is deliciously perfect, like he was made to please you. Your fingers press dents into his shoulders as you grip him tightly. One of his hands squeezes your hip to keep you from slipping off the counter while the other finds its way to having a light grip on your throat.

His forehead rests against yours, the back of your head pressed against the mirror behind you. The angle makes his thrusts shallow, forcing the crown of his cock to rock against a sensitive spot deep inside that has you seeing spots behind your closed lids.

Yoongi has always been a contrasting lover, hot and cold, in a way that always leaves you breathless and assuaged. The look on his face says he’s fucking you, but the sensual roll of his hips says he’s making love to you—the hand on your throat says he just wants to control you. Regardless of how he fucks, it always consumes you. From the first time to now, he wholly and utterly devours your sanity and spits it back at you two-fold. He brings you palpable lucidity while also destroying all sense of right and wrong. Some call it morally grey; you call it just another titillating facet of who he is.

Pleasure builds fast, and you know you’re about to tip over the edge when the pressure of his hand on your throat increases. It’s an infinitesimal change, but it feels like the tightening of a vice all the same.

The erratic beat of your heart stutters further, swallowing you down into a thick-headed spiral of trepidation. You know Yoongi won’t hurt you. It’s not that—not quite. It’s the idea and knowledge that he could. It’s a taboo feeling, craving that helpless flutter deep in your belly that dares you to indulge in the darkness instead of running from it.

Yoongi’s hips continue to roll against you, your body pinned in place by his hand on your throat. Your eyes flutter open just to fall shut again as the hand on your hip moves until his thumb presses against your clit, making your body jerk and hurtle back toward the precipice of pleasure from before.

With his thumb pressed against one throbbing artery in your neck and the pads of his fingers against the twin on the other side, he has complete and utter control over you. All it takes is another barely-there squeeze to have you changing your grip from his shoulders to his forearm.

The bitter taste of cowardice laces together with the cloyingly sweet, carnal flavor of lust that’s coating your insides. Yoongi rumbles, a moan low in his chest. The rhythm of his hips kicks up until they’re hammering against yours to the point that measures of pain mix with the terror, forming into a rapture of exhilaration. His thumb coaxes your orgasm through precise flicks over your swollen clit.

You can’t help the sound that rips from your throat, squeezing past his grip in a ragged mockery of a moan—bright colors spiderweb across the backs of your closed lids as you sip from his chalice of wickedness. White noise joins the rush of blood in your ears as somewhere in the deep recesses of your mind, alarm begins to bleed into the hazy euphoria clouding your head. “Yes!” Yoongi groans. “That’s it, fuck!”

“Y-yoon—“ you try to choke out his name, fingers trembling from their tight grip on his forearm. Just as you’re about to try and shove him away to get a reprieve, his hand loosens its hold on your throat, and the instant rush of oxygen to your brain washes away all other thoughts as your body surrenders once again to his dominion. The orgasm tears through you, sweeping you out in a hedonistic riptide. Your walls clamp around his cock so hard he snarls and shudders with the trigger of his own release.

You must have blacked out from the overwhelming cascade that besieged your senses because the next thing you’re aware of is Yoongi tucking you into bed beside him. The sheets are cool against your heated skin, a welcome lull of relief. He presses into your sated body, chest against your back and arm possessively curling over your hip. “Get some sleep, my queen,” he murmurs. “I’ll hold the darkness back.”

The room is dark, just as it was earlier when you panicked. But, just as always, when Yoongi is around, it’s less frightening…seemingly somehow less dark and foreboding. He might have darker desires when it comes to pleasure, but right now, he’s the light that chases away your other demons.

🖤🖤🖤

Yoongi

The taste of your fear still lingers in the back of Yoongi’s throat as he pretends to sleep curled around you. He knew turning off your bedroom light would scare you. It’s why he did it. The peckish feeling that rumbled in the pit of his stomach drove him to want to play with you. Your fear instantly sated his hunger, and it made his dick hard when you screamed. You scream so prettily he just can’t help that natural, primal response.

That is, after all, precisely why he chose you. Everything about you speaks to his needs, promising sweet and succulent fruit that’s always ripe for plucking.

He learned early on that if he could elevate your heart rate and incite a sliver of fear in you while fucking you…well, his full belly is testament enough to how much he loves that. You call it a kink, he calls it dessert. It wasn’t his intention to fuck you after he frightened you, but the irritating erection grating along his zipper had other plans.

His mortal form isn’t his favorite. It’s far too small and has far too many baser needs and limitations. Though he does enjoy the feel of your soft, pliant flesh under his—especially when you’re ripe with the sweet smell of terror—it makes it worth the discomfort this inferior mode has.

It’s not lost on Yoongi that he could have ruined you from the start by taking too much from you. But he’s been careful over the years, molding and training your body to be the perfect vessel for him to feed from. The fact you were already experiencing high anxiety and an innate fear of the dark prior to him coming into your life helped tremendously. Nyctophobia is such a beautiful thing.

You claim he’s helped you, for the most part, get over your fears. However, he knows this is just a lie you tell him and yourself to make yourself feel and seem braver. He knows the truth, though. There is no getting over your fear, not when it lives with you…sleeps next to you, touches you, fucks you. He’s everything you’re scared of, everything you think is creeping around in the dark, waiting to pounce. He’s your worst nightmare…literally as much as figuratively—and you have absolutely no inkling of that truth. All you see is what he lets you see: just a sweet guy with a penchant for darker tastes behind closed doors.

To you, he’s just Yoongi. But he has had many names over the centuries: Demon, Baba Yaga, El Coco, Butzemann, Tikoloshe, Bogeyman, and so on. All of them are generally the same, but none are quite right. He is all these things, and yet none of these things—he’s so much more.

It’s a common misconception that he only targets people who do misdeeds. That’s not it at all, for the sweetest fruit is the unwary, the innocent, the vulnerable, and the scared. That is the pinnacle of his desire, the unctuous delight that feeds his depravity and gives him power over the darkness—darkness that calls to him now.

Being careful not to wake you, Yoongi slips out from around your soft, lush body. Feeding on your fear in the bathroom drained some of your vitality, lowering your constitution, and the best recovery for that is a good, uninterrupted eight hours. So, he’ll leave you to replenish so that he may feast once again—one last time before he executes his final, ultimate plan; the whole reason he chose you to begin with and has been periodically parading around in this limited meat suit for years.

The maw of darkness under your bed beckons him to shake off the mortal form and take his rightful place as King among the shadows. Yoongi catches his reflection in the standing mirror across the room. The only thing distinct is the brilliant red eyes staring back at him. It feels good to stretch and dissolve into his proper form, shadows snaking along his limbs and filling his every breath.

You fidget on the bed, brow furrowing as your body reacts to the nearness of his proper form. He likes watching you twitch and shift, soft mewls of fright sounding low in your chest. If he wanted, he could swallow you whole, and you’d never be the wiser, one moment existing in your nightmare and the next slithering into the ether of what comes after. But, it’s not time…not yet.

Letting one of his long, spindly shadow fingers draw back in and reform into the echo of human flesh, he presses the blunt tip against your temple. You instantly quell your movements, and the pitiful cry in your chest subsides. Yoongi can feel the subtle tremble of your body, the vibrations skittering through your flesh as your body recognizes his hellish touch. Your subconscious is as familiar with his umbral form as your conscious is with the lies he’s used to frame how you see him with your eyes.

Digging through the screen of your nightmare, he pulls back the darkness and lets in just enough light to lull you into a false sense of security—something he does nearly every night after he’s fed from you so he doesn’t accidentally drain you dry. By the time he returns, the light will have faded from your dreams, and there will be just enough unfettered distress permeating the air of your bedroom to give him a top off of delicious fear, his own personal cup of pick-me-up.

Yoongi slides under the bed and into the darkness, leaving you to your deep, lambent dreams. He melts through the barrier between your world and his. Euphoria buzzes through him as his depth of power increases. That’s the biggest downfall of walking the mortal plane. There aren’t quite enough shadows or stinking fear to fill the neverending void inside him. But here, in the Realm of Darkness, the taste of terror is thick and nectarous. It lingers in the air and is as permanent as the oxygen you breathe in your world.

Yoongi drifts through the firmament of his domain, letting the worries and stress of what’s to come fade. For a being with endless power and control, he never thought he might have the need to be concerned over something seemingly so trivial. But, the ceremony and ritual he has planned for tomorrow night is easily the most critical thing he’s ever dared to accomplish.

The Realm of Darkness might be sufficiently filled with succulent fodder for him, but there are other limitations he encounters. Constraints that involve the worlds beyond his Kingdom. He doesn’t want just to be able to thrive here on his own turf. He has aspirations of letting his darkness seep into the outer realms—including yours—and if he has his way, you will help him do just that. The barriers will crumble, and he’ll be free to bathe the distant realms in his thick ichor of destruction.

Finally feeling more like himself, he aims for the Shadow Spire, where waits the Throne of the Damned—his throne. All it takes is a simple thought, and he’s standing in the sprawling cavern of the throne room. It stretches wide in all directions, having no end or beginning, just existing as his will needs.

Pillars of malachite soar into the air at equal intervals, disappearing into the glittering cosmos expanse above his head. Silvery flecks of light cast the whole room in a mockery of the night sky of your world, something he’s grown to admire over the years spent there. Yoongi takes a deep breath, soaking in the tangy, bitter stench of brimstone and copper. Soon, he hopes, your delectable perfume of fear will join them.

“Sire,” a gruff voice says in surprise. “We weren’t expecting you back until the ritual. Welcome, is there anything we can do for you?”

Yoongi settles his shadowy form on the monstrous broken stone pillar at the top of the dais that rises from the rocky floor. His court, ever vigilant in their duty to him, wait for him to respond. “Is everything prepared for the ceremony?” he asks, eyes finally landing on the six figures seated on the smaller stone plinths arrayed in a semi-circle in front of him—the Shadow Court once again complete with his return. Hopefully, he won’t have to leave the comfort of his court but one more time. Once the ritual is done, he shouldn’t have to so much as lift a finger to reach into the overworld.

“All is well and ready, Sire.” Wicked smiles spread like wildfire across the court. They’re just as excited as Yoongi is to be finally moving forward with the plan. None of them have tasted the kind of fear that Yoongi has feasted on from you—the fresh terror of the mortal realm—but if they had more corporeal forms, he knows they’d be salivating. Soon, so very soon.

Looking around at his companions, he can’t help but think how humorous it is that you so readily believed his deceptions about working for the human government. He remembers the day he finally stepped from the shadows and made himself known to you. You were immediately drawn to him and couldn't stop yourself from indulging in your curiosities like a moth drawn to a flame.

Yoongi had already come up with an elaborate backstory and characterization for the human he wanted to portray. He knew all of your deep, dark fantasies and brought them to life. Your eyes got round with awe and reverence when he first revealed his supposed job, confirming how gullible and under his spell you were. He can’t deny it’s worked in his favor.

He’s allowed to keep odd hours and disappear as needed. When he returns to your bed before the sun rises, he’ll leave you a note on your pillow about being pulled away for work. You’ll read it and sigh a dreamy sigh as you have every other time he’s done that. You never bother to seek further explanation—your trust in him is so wholly concrete.

There is satisfaction in the freedom you’ve granted him to embrace a darker side. It’s how he can get away with fucking you so callously that your brain warps it into some deranged form of love. You’ve chalked every depraved thing he’s done to you up to him needing an outlet after dealing with such heinous stuff for work. He only had to mention a few well-known acronyms, like FBI and CIA, and you accepted it. As scared as you are of the dark, he’s aware of the collection of slasher and horror novels you keep stuffed away under your bed and that you listen with rapt attention to those silly crime shows and podcasts that tell you he’s not the one you should be scared of. Soon, he won’t have to worry about any of that, though—no more silly backstory, no more hiding, no more stuffy mortal form, no more holding back. Tomorrow signifies a change, a new beginning. It’s the time when the veil between the worlds will be thin enough that he can drag you down without it sucking your life away. Some call it Samhain, Calan Gaeaf, Mischief Night, Halloween—it holds nearly as many names as Yoongi himself does—but for him, it will be the night he calls triumph. The night his shadows will lay a claim to you wholly; the night you stop fearing what goes bump in the night and instead stand by its side and let it consume you.

Wicked Delight

Consciousness comes in fits and spurts of clarity. There is a moment where you’re asleep but aware. With this awareness, you can discern and feel the potent darkness webbing across your subconscious. You’ve seen it before, the myriad of inky tendrils that zig-zag through the light like fissures over a dried river bed. It scares you but also fills you with intrigue so rich it nearly eclipses the fear.

You know that if you could just hang on to that in-between space, the feeling of teetering on the edge of a knife, you could examine the darkness further and figure out what it is and where it comes from. But your body has other plans, sucking you away from your inspection and pushing you toward uneasy wakefulness.

Shifting under the blankets, a crinkling noise draws your eyes open to land on a rumple of white paper lying beside you on the empty side of the bed. With fumbling fingers, you grab the ripped leaf of creamy parchment and turn it so you can see the blue scrawl of words.

Got some darkness to take care of. Can’t wait to see you tonight. Don’t forget; 11 pm sharp, beginning of the corn maze. X

There is no name signed to the note, just an X, but you know who left it, regardless. You roll over, holding the thin paper above you so you can see the faded, faint print under his ink. A smile tugs at your lips when you realize it’s a corner ripped from Kinder und Hausmärchen, one of Yoongi’s favorite books. He has an original first edition that he’s let you moon over a few times. The first time you found a note and saw what it was written on, you nearly crawled out of your skin to berate him for ruining such a prize. He gently chided you for your reaction and assured you it was just a copy, scanned and printed for the whimsy of it.

Looking closer, you see the corner is from a page of the Cat and Mouse in Partnership tale. Your smile fades, turning into a mild frown as an odd feeling ghosts beneath your skin, eliciting goosebumps to pop up along your arms. Sighing, you shake your head and pull the blanket up high under your chin, chalking the sensation up to being cold. Your eyes rove around the room, taking in the early morning light filtering in through your thin curtains, showing you just enough of the inside of your room to be comfortable with not having a light on.

Finally deciding there’s no point in dallying in bed further, you toss back the covers and brace yourself against the chill in your room. Only, it’s not as cold as you were anticipating. Opening the small drawer on your nightstand to deposit the message in with the dozens of others Yoongi has left you over the years, you can help but smile. They’re sweet, little pieces of him that affirm to you why it’s okay he disappears the way he does. The reminder comforts you, especially on this day.

Halloween has never been your favorite. Well, that’s not true, exactly. You do like Halloween—just the modern and more mainstream version with candy, pumpkins, and warm, spiced drinks. Fall colors are also something you enjoy. The cooler air is nice. You’re partial to cozy sweaters and boots, too.

All in all, you enjoy this time of the year. You just don’t necessarily like the darker parts, the scarier parts. Haunted houses and scary movies are things you could do without unless it’s under very specific circumstances. Such as having Yoongi there. Which is the only reason you’ve agreed to meet him at the festival tonight. You haven’t been since you were a teen and got so scared by the fright actors that you swore never to return.

Except, now, you are returning. It’s been on the tip of your tongue for the last week to cancel on Yoongi, feigning a head or stomach ache. But, the sheer excitement in his gaze when you agreed, has been enough to make you bite your tongue every time a protest bubbles up. You can—and will—do this.

With an entire day to go before your date with Yoongi, you busy yourself with mundane tasks. A bit of cleaning, some light reading, and lastly, dumping a few bags of assorted and prepackaged candies into a bright orange bowl with a goofy jack-o-lantern face printed on the side.

You’re usually a porchlight-off kind of person. Still, this year, considering your own venture outside your proverbial Halloween box, you decided why not go the extra mile for others, too? Even if one kid dumps the entire bowl into their treat bag, you’ll at least feel somewhat accomplished in your attempt.

Setting the bowl on your doorstep, you stand back and survey it. The yellow-tinged porch light illuminates the candy and the plastic pumpkins you have arranged on either side of your door. You contemplate adding a ‘please take only one’ sign for the bowl but decide a paper warning isn’t much of a deterrent. Leaving the candy to its fate, you head back inside to finish getting ready.

Time flows in a weird, out-of-body kind of way. You’re aware of pulling on your coat and walking into your garage through the kitchen—even the process of driving to the festival registers in your mind. But, you’re genuinely not cognisant of what you’re doing until you’re staring at the large flashing sign for the festival. You have to practically put on blinders to make it through the ticketing process, ignoring the scare actors as you wait in line.

The corn maze is at the center of it all, meaning you keep your eyes glued to the ground as you skirt the edges of the food stalls and game stands until you reach it. There, you wait, standing at the start of the corn maze and stare at your watch, counting the seconds as they tick by with the small hand.

The air is cool, the crisp scent of fall heavy around you. Laughter and faint screams carry to you from the festival surrounding the maze. The giant corn labyrinth is the center of the entire two-week-long event. Thousands of people flock from near and far to venture within the husked, cream-colored stalks.

If you make it through the maze without assistance from the scare actors, then you get an entire bucket of caramel popcorn drizzled with chocolate. That’s never been enough of a reward for you to try. Even the last time you were here, you never stepped foot into the clustered embrace of the maze.

The festival is lit enough with all the twinkling lights and fair games lining the thoroughfares and the midway. Food trucks and stalls litter through the vendors with stuffed animals and cackling clowns. You try to ignore the bodies that sway and shamble through the crowd—the scare actors. They’re just people dressed up in costume and makeup, but they still elicit that flighty feeling in your belly, that little trickle of fear.

At the ticket booths, there were neon green necklaces you could purchase. You used them as a distraction while you waited in line. They’re ‘no scare’ necklaces, big bright indicators that you’re a sensitive little bitch that doesn’t want to be scared. At least, that’s how you felt looking at them, considering buying one. You know they’re an extremely valid item, a protective emblem that many people need, and that it’s perfectly fine—in fact, it’s encouraged for people to use them if they need to.

As you fingered the green nylon of the lanyard, you couldn’t help chewing your bottom lip, worrying at it until it cracked under your teeth and the coppery tang of blood danced across your tongue. You almost bought it…maybe you should have. However, the fact that you’re half-hidden by the corn maze sign and doing everything in your power not to draw unwanted attention to yourself seems to be keeping you from attracting the actors your way.

The tiny hand on your watch ticks away, drawing closer to turning over the minute, which'll turn over the hour to 11 PM. Sharp. Yoongi’s insistence. Just as the hands come together on your watch, you feel that telltale tingling feeling of eyes on you. It’s a familiar sensation, one you often associate with Yoongi. Daring to step out from behind the sign to the corn maze, you spin in a slow circle, trying to catch sight of him.

“Looking for someone?”

You have to clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle the shriek that rips from your chest as those words drift in from right behind you. So close that it’s impossible to imagine you hadn’t noticed him approaching you as you looked around.

“Yoongi,” you sigh, dropping your hand.

He's enveloping you from behind before you can turn around and give him a pouty yet stern look. His familiar musk and warmth ease your heart back from its hammering gallop. “You’re good enough to eat,” he gruffly murmurs, pressing his nose into the fabric of your coat at the juncture of your shoulder and neck. You can feel more than hear his deep inhalation, as if he’s drawing in the scent of your very soul and branding it throughout his olfactory system.

“The maze closes in an hour. Are you sure we can make it to the center before then?” you ask, voice light and airy as relief infused with drips of serotonin weaken your knees and your resolve to be upset with him for frightening you. You turn in his arms, keen to look upon his face for another kick of comfort, but it sours in your belly when you take in his pulled-up hood and the thick black gaiter covering the bottom half of his face. “What’s that for?”

Yoongi shrugs, shoulders lifting in his typical nonchalant manner. “It’s Halloween. Consider me dressed for the occasion.” He winks at you, but it does nothing to quell the unease still rolling around just beneath your surface. Feigning that stomachache is starting to sound more and more appealing, Yoongi’s excitement be damned.

“You look like a burglar.”

You can’t see his smile, but you can tell it’s there by how his eyes crinkle and lids lower mischievously. “And you look ripe for the burgling.”

“You’re insufferable,” you gripe teasingly, finally letting a smile grace your face despite the lingering anxiety. It’s easy to forget your fears and worries when you’re looking into his umber-colored gaze.

“Come on, let’s go.” Yoongi offers you his elbow, and you tuck your hand into the crook of it, leaning your shoulder against his arm.

The fleece-lined leggings you chose to wear keep you warm enough, paired with the knit sweater and thick tweed coat covering your top half. Your chunky boots are comfortable and practical for the slightly uneven terrain of the cornfield-turned-maze. Yoongi is far more casual in just jeans, the hoodie, and a pair of dusty and worn sneakers.

You study his face the best you can past the edge of his hood and out of the corner of your eye. He’s just as handsome as always. Even the black fabric covering the bottom half of his face doesn’t detract from his allure, which seems to be intensified by the deepening darkness around you as he leads you through the maze entrance.

A festival worker stands off to the side in full-on farmer-gore. Their overalls are covered in faux viscera, and there is a bloodied sling blade dangling from their off-hand as they beckon you and Yoongi forward with their other.

“Tonight's savior phrase is ‘Pumpkin Guts’, yell it out if you need assistance navigating the maze, and a helper will assist you,” he offers before turning to the next patron approaching a few feet behind you and Yoongi and giving them the same information.

“Pumpkin Guts,” Yoongi scoffs with a quiet laugh. “Surely they could have come up with something far more fitting than that.”

“I find it kind of nice. The childish charm of it helps make a situation like getting lost in the maze less scary, don’t you think?”

His eyes look more onyx now that you’re within the maze, the only illumination coming from tiny, sparse fairy lights. They catch your gaze, and you see a smile tilt up the corner of Yoongi’s mouth. “That’s adorable.”

“What?” you laugh, feeling heat crawl into your cheeks.

Yoongi shakes his head, his smile growing. “You always find the good in everything. It’s one of the things I like most about you.”

All the residual anxiety from earlier bleeds away with just that singular statement. You press in closer to Yoongi and angle your face up in silent request, to which he immediately obliges. He hooks a finger in the lip of his gaiter and pulls it down so he can slant his mouth over yours. His lips are warmer than usual, his breath carrying faint hints of bourbon as he teasingly slips his tongue through the seam of your lips. All too soon, he’s pulling away, leaving you with just that small taste of him. The gaiter slides back into place, and he nods ahead of you. “The quicker we make it to the center, the quicker you get the surprise I have waiting for you.”

“A surprise?” you ask, thoroughly intrigued.

His affirming hum in response turns into a soft chuckle as you eagerly quicken your steps, tugging him along beside you. As someone who isn’t partial to being shocked or scared, it’s perhaps a bit ironic that you love surprises of the unknown. They just have to be the right kind—like one from Yoongi; er, well, at least the ones that don’t involve him sitting on your bed in the dark as you open the bathroom door or so you tell yourself—but you digress.

Though, perhaps there is a bit of enjoyment from those kinds of surprises, too. In a twisted, semi-fucked up way, the surge of adrenaline is like a counterweight to the dopamine response from your amygdala that follows any time you get frightened. The perfect balance of emotions. The fight or flight reflex makes your body feel like it’s keyed up with extra energy, leaving you feeling like you’ve just run a mile or fucked for an hour. It’s maybe a little unhinged to salivate over those small sips of terror secretly. Does that make you a masochist?

You’d almost think Yoongi picks up on your inner thoughts with the way he makes an amused sound in the back of his throat and gives you a sidelong, knowing look. Something tingles beneath your skin, an electric feeling akin to loose ambitions. It seems tonight won’t be so bad after all.

The crunch of dried corn husks and hay accompanies the occasional scream or laugh echoing from various points in the maze. You’ve only led Yoongi to a dead-end a handful of times so far, but the anxiety at not having found the center of the maze yet is starting to mount.

“I can feel your stress in the tension in your hand,” Yoongi muses softly. “Relax, you’ll get your surprise.”

“What if they close the maze before we make it to the center, though?”

“They won’t.”

You cut a quick glance at him. He looks smug. “You seem so sure, but from my count,” you shift your attention to your watch, “we only have fifteen minutes before the festival closes, and I’d guess we’re nowhere near the center yet.”

Yoongi shrugs. “I may have paid the vendor to let us stay as long as we need.”

“You did what?”

“Tonight’s special,” Yoongi tugs you to a stop, his hands engulfing yours, and gives you a pointed look. “Very special.” The thumb of his right hand grazes over the expanse of skin above the knuckle on your left ring finger. “Now, let’s go find the center…and your surprise.”

A new sensation trickles in–excitement. Your heart patters faster as you turn and haul Yoongi on with renewed vigor. Gone is any trepidation; in its place, nothing but giddy and barely veiled anticipation. And to think, you’d almost been silly and canceled on him.

🖤🖤🖤

Yoongi

Yoongi wasn’t exaggerating when he said you look good enough to eat tonight. If only you knew how close to an accurate statement that was. He’s had a constant flow of moisture seeping into his mouth since he laid eyes on you standing behind the wooden sign for the maze. He had just finished setting up the surprise for you in the center, utilizing his natural form in order to move quickly without being seen.

All the implements he needs await him at the maze's center. The theatrics of it all are only for fun. He could have simply taken you without them. But he’s always been partial to playing with his food before devouring it. The pungency of your anxiety as you waited was a delightful appetizer to what is sure to be a satiating main course.

Every time you make a wrong turn in the maze, Yoongi can feel the tension in your muscles and the momentary disappointment that flavors your scent. It’s amusing watching you shuffle your feet and grumble under your breath before turning and backtracking.

It’s not lost to him the amount of uncertainty you’ve had ever since he asked you to go with him tonight. Not that he would have given you a choice in the end; he’d have taken you by force if needed. But he’s a passive creature at best, so the less work he has to do, the better.

Using the ruse of there being a surprise waiting for you isn’t entirely untrue. Though, the treat he’s confident that he’s planted the idea of in your head is far different from what’s actually going to happen. He’s spent enough time in the mortal realm to know what you’d have interpreted from him stroking that particular finger with the right look in his eye. Your heart had gone into a frenzy of thick, heavy beats, and your eyes had lit up with wonder.

Yeah, he’s pretty sure he knows what’s driving your feet to move as quickly as they are now. It’ll just make the disappointment taste that much sweeter. Over the five years he’s been administering to you, molding you into the perfect vessel, he’s learned the small nuances that make you tick. Whether it’s for eliciting fear or excitement, desire or anguish, he knows exactly how to produce the results he wants.

“Ugh,” you grumble for the dozenth time when you turn a corner and come to another dead end. “This is impossible. How can you find enjoyment in these things?”

Yoongi smirks. “It’s quite analytical if you really want me to answer that.” The way your nose wrinkles when he says that is positively adorable. “Come on, I’ll help you out.”

You gleefully cede the lead, letting him guide you back and toward a different direction entirely. You’re still excited, bubbling with positive anticipation, even though you’re no longer playing the game, per se. It’s interesting how you so quickly relinquish the hunt—he’d never.

The noise of the festival and maze has long since fizzled away. He didn’t actually pay the attendant. He’s just using some of his ability to mask your presence from anyone who might get in the way. Some of the lights from the midway are still going, and a few rides are lit up. However, the deeper Yoongi leads you into the labyrinth, the darker it becomes. He’s confident you’re so wound up that you don’t even notice how his shadows grow and stretch along the narrow walkway around you.

“Oh, look!” You excitedly point at the opening that comes into view at the end of the row. “I can smell the popcorn. Did that bribe include a bucket waiting for us, too?”

Yoongi has no idea if there is popcorn waiting, but he imagines you’re only smelling the lingering scent. He can’t detect anyone else within a hundred-meter radius around the maze. If the prospect of popcorn makes you happy, then sure. “Of course it did. We’ll need a snack once I’m done with you.” Which mostly isn’t true, though he can’t be sure. Yoongi has never shadow-turned a human before, much less taken a mate in the process. You might be ravenous by the time he’s done; though, he’d bet it won’t be popcorn you’ll be craving.

There is a distinct moment where Yoongi can feel the shift in your demeanor. Your excitement dips into confusion as you take in the finish line area that’s deserted of anyone and anything other than the large 10 ft square structure he erected in the middle. The raw malachite plinths are so dark the lindworm-colored stone seems to absorb the illuminance around them, turning the gateway into a giant pit of darkness that devours the faint twinkling lights. Shadows bleed from the open space between the pillars, reaching for their master.

Yoongi’s blood sings with desire as fear trickles in with the confusion. “Yoongi,” you whisper his name, and it warbles from your lips oh so beautifully. “What’s that?”

“That’s your future, my love.” He untangles himself from your grip, circling you like a predator. “Now, run!” he snarls from right behind you.

You don’t even scream when he shoves you forward, your arms windmilling and boots tripping over the scatter of dried corn husks before you topple headlong between the pillars. The last thing he sees before the waiting shadows swallow you is the whites of your eyes as you throw a panicked look over your shoulder at him.

It’s mildly disappointing that you didn’t even so much as grunt or give him any sort of satisfaction that you’re petrified other than the cloying perfume of your terror that settles on his tongue when he huffs in irritation. Hopefully, when he follows you through the gateway, you’ll already be on the run because he’s in the mood to play a while longer before he shatters the world as you know it.

Yoongi wants you to recognize him, so he only casts off some of his mortal form, choosing to keep his face and most of his body intact. What changes is his size; he grows larger, arms and legs longer, fingers more like talons, and eyes the dark red of fresh blood.

He knows he looks monstrous, even more so with the cloth still covering the lower half of his face and the hoodie now ripped and hanging from his physique. As soon as he slides through the barrier of the gateway, he’s met with that euphoric sound he hoped for earlier. Your scream rends through the thick, stale air of the Realm of Darkness, music to his ears.

“That’s my girl,” Yoongi crows, his voice gravelly and distorted by his natural form. He inhales deeply, sucking in your dismay's succulent and divine fragrance. “Fuck.”

You scream again as he steps toward you, which spurs you into gaining your feet, not even caring to look at the soot-like substance caking your hands and knees. Yoongi can only imagine the thoughts warring inside your pretty little head right now. Wild fear makes your eyes flick frantically around before you choose a direction and sprint at breakneck speed between the skeletal trees surrounding this side of the gateway.

He chose the Forest of Decay specifically because it provides the perfect environment for a chase. It allows him to easily keep up with you while giving the illusion of protection. There’s also not a single nook or cranny Yoongi isn’t intimately familiar with; after all, he can’t have you finding some unknown hole to burrow into.

The flash and flicker of your coat draws his attention as it zigs and zags through the petrified sentinels of the forest. Their long, gnarled branches reach far, entwining overhead like a macabre endless bird's nest. It creates a dim atmosphere, with the faintest hint of light bleeding through the limbs. Each tree is about a foot wide and twenty feet high, the ground covered in sooty ash; it’s an ideal playground.

“Leave me alone!” you sob when Yoongi lets you catch another glimpse of him.

Yoongi shudders as a fresh, new wave of terror undulates from you and washes over him. “No can do, my queen.”

The thrill of the chase adds kindling to Yoongi’s need to consume you whole. Every step you take is reckless. You throw yourself around trees so fast you nearly hit the next. The spacing between the trees is relatively narrow, just a few feet at most. Still, with the way you’re barreling through them, you’ve already accumulated a few scratches and minor lacerations from the dried bark, feet kicking up small puffs of ash with every frantic step. The tangy, sweet scent of your blood makes him salivate. The thick, viscous drool coating his tongue will make it all that easier to fuck you with it once he catches you.

Lumbering on behind you, Yoongi intentionally stomps and makes as much noise as possible. Every crack and thump he makes has a whimper shivering from your throat. The thick appendage between his monstrous thighs swells with each terrified sound you make. Fucking you in his proper form will be such a treat. Surely, it’ll be far better than any sex he’s had with the limits of his human body, even if he does love the way your softness compliments his.

But there is nothing soft about Yoongi now—not when he has such a tasty morsel running and screaming so prettily for him. He’s all hard edges and thick muscle. A manic chuckle bubbles in his chest as he leaps ahead, hounding your heels.

It’s comical, ironic even, when he watches your foot catch on a high root hidden by a pile of ash, and you go sprawling on the ground before him. He’s seen enough of those cheesy horror films so fervently worshiped in your world to know how funny this is.

“Please, no! Leave me alone!” you beg through ragged breaths. Your face and hair are marked with scratches, flecks of dried bark, and the pewter-colored ash covering the ground.

An appreciative moan works its way free of Yoongi as he stands over you, swaying like he’s drunk. Which, maybe he is. There is a faint buzzing in his ears, and if he opens his eyes too wide, your image doubles. Two of you; he grins wickedly at the prospect. Now, that would be a definite treat.

As it is, there’s only you; that will be sufficient for what Yoongi has planned. He looms over you, and the backward-bending joints of his knees give slightly as he towers across your prone form. Your eyes pan over his arched body, perhaps for the first time, taking it in with true clarity. Yoongi lets his skin ripple between human and proper form, coalescing and whirling with shadows.

With a flex of darkness, he rends the remnants of his clothes. The ripping of the seams and subsequent soft plop of the ruined fabrics echo through the suddenly silent space. You’re barely even breathing as you take him in, eyes landing on the swinging cock that nearly brushes your belly as he places a gnarled hand beside your head in the ash.

“You’re mine,” he whispers, though it comes out more like sand in a grinder. Lowering further, Yoongi nudges your chin with his nose, guiding your head sideways to give him unfettered access to your throat. Pressing into the crook of your neck, he huffs hot breath over your skin, rejoicing in the instinctive reaction. Your skin prickles and flushes with goosebumps, and a thick cloud of potent fear wafts up as your pulse hammers away beneath his lips.

“P-please,” you whimper through trembling lips. Tears stream down your cheek and drip off the bridge of your nose. Their salty tang mixes with the sweetness of terror pervading the air.

That word, spoken in that way…it does something to Yoongi. He groans, nipping at the skin of your neck with his blunted teeth before letting them elongate so he can adequately graze your papery-thin flesh. You cry out when they slice through, leaving behind thin blood trickles and shallow scratches.

Your blood is laced with fear, blooming on his tongue like an ambrosia of the gods. “You’ve always begged so prettily, my queen. You’re a treasure, and I’m so glad I found you all those years ago, so innocent and unsuspecting—my perfect mate.”

The next scream that leaves your lips is guttural, full of panic and delirium as Yoongi takes his first pull from your body. Thin wisps of black shadow thread from his lips to yours. They pulse with every drag he takes. He’s fed from you thousands of times, but never like this—never so profoundly.

Fear, terror, horror, fright…it’s all the same, and yet Yoongi is almost sure he can taste the distinction. Like a fine wine, you have tasting notes that vary with every sip. By the fifth breath, your body has grown slack, your eyes wide and glassy. Tears still stream down your face but in silence.

Yoongi watches your pallor grow sickly, waxy as sweat pearls along your hairline and temples. Draining you is a delicate affair, something he’s both dreaded and looked forward to for so long. Watching the fire that he loves so much bleed from your eyes and the vigor leech from your skin pangs him with a foreign sensation, something akin to mourning? He realizes now he will mourn the loss of your human form, even if it’s far inferior to what he will turn you into.

With one final shuddering gasp, the darkest, thickest tendril of shadow snakes its way between your parted lips. Your fingers and limbs spasm as the inky darkness roots in deep, tethering itself to you like the strings of a marionette. It pulls tight in Yoongi’s own chest, cementing his essence to yours. As a barbed ring of shadow settles on the ring finger of your left hand, the bond snaps into place, and chaos ensues.

🖤🖤🖤

You’ve never experienced such visceral fear before. It’s consumed every fiber of your being. You’re no longer who you once were and will never be the same again. You are simply fear incarnate.

A boiling starts beneath your skin, beginning at the tips of your fingers and toes before rolling through to the center of your chest, where it pops and sizzles like dry ice in tepid water, so cold it burns.

It’s like flipping a coin. One minute, you are experiencing insurmountable terror, and the next, you exude it. Nothing can scare you now, not even the monster sitting a few feet away watching you with calculated eyes—familiar eyes, eyes you’ve lost yourself in more times than you can count.

They’re not as cold as they were a moment ago. You distinctly remember how those red eyes softened right before you felt yourself float away. It’s Yoongi, you know this, but it’s also not. He’s different, and it’s not even the deformed, gangly shadow form that makes up his body, either. There’s something more, something that draws you in, like an anchor dragging you into his deepest, darkest depths. He’s a vast ocean, and you’re pretty sure what he just did was akin to drowning you—killing you.

Only you don’t feel dead.

Quite the opposite, in fact. For the first time in your existence, you feel truly alive; and not in the living sense but in the eternal sense. You have no ending or beginning; you exist as you will yourself to be.

With that thought, your body urges you to change, to morph into a far more comfortable form. Darkness seeps from your pores, cascading out of your skin until it becomes a mockery of its former self, and it feels good—so good.

“What have you done to me?” Your voice sounds different, soft yet sultry. It reminds you of black silk and lace, devious and coy, with the perfect mix of husk and drawl.

Yoongi lets out a slow breath, the sound like dry leaves crackling. “Made you mine.”

“What…what are we?”

The soft ash sifts between your now exposed toes, the boots you once wore laying in peeled strips along with tattered remnants of your clothes. Nudity has never been an issue for you, but it’s as if you have no inhibitions at all now. The shadows around your body contort to form curves and perfect swells.

“We have many names. Demons, bogeymen…it’s all very fitting, yet doesn’t quite capture the truth. What I am—what we are—is darkness, fear, terror, and shadow. We are infinite, endless, and everything all at once.”

“Why me?” you whisper. That tether inside of you pulses, pulling tight as you shift and try to put distance between yourself and Yoongi. It’s like a rope around your throat, pulling you up short.

Yoongi narrows his eyes, lips quirking in amusement. “This is the Realm of Darkness—my domain,” he gestures broadly with a clawed hand, “and it was all I had access to until I found a way to enter yours. Once I tasted the sweet nectar of fear it provided and the power it allowed me access to, I couldn’t stop my curiosity and need for more. Then I found you, and I knew you would be the perfect compliment to my aspirations, just the thing I needed to break the barriers completely.”

He straightens up, and the way his body catches your attention has a heat flaring somewhere deep in your being. Your eyes lock on the dark sinews and plump muscles that stretch and contract as Yoongi moves to crouch in front of you. The ribbed and notched cock swaying between his thighs dribbles a thick, viscous line of lavender-colored arousal.

Tearing your eyes from the sight of it, you force yourself to look into his feral, red eyes. His explanation is both confusing and clear at the same time. You understand it, but know that you should be railing against it because it’s morally incomprehensible. You’ve essentially been kidnapped and forced into what this is. Yet…yet—“I feel…” you trail off, trying to find the right word to describe it.

“Powerful,” Yoongi offers with a knowing, pointed-tooth grin.

“Powerful,” you repeat, letting the word roll around your tongue before nodding. Perhaps that’s why you are shrugging off your cares and the moral compass that has seemingly forgotten how to point north.

The subtle smell of burnt wood and sulfur hits you as Yoongi raises a hand to fit across the front of your throat. Those too-long fingers engulf it, sending a shiver down your new body. Instead of your belly filling up with fear, it fills with desire and need. You no longer need to battle the terror, letting it drip away from you instead.

“Look at you. You’re so perfect. You don’t feel scared, but that’s only because this realm leeches it away and devours it before it can poison your mind, leaving behind nothing but how you truly feel.”

You know there has always been a darkness inside you, something that even you feared to face head-on. After all, it must take some kind of crazy to be both scared of the dark and want to embrace it. It’s not just the way Yoongi plied your body and made you forget to care about being proper and good. Is this what you were made for—all the fright and terror you’ve experienced and secretly sought out leading you to this very moment here?

All it takes is one look at Yoongi to know the truth.

You were created for this, crafted to be precisely what Yoongi needed, just as he said.

With that moment of clarity and acceptance, a new sensation slithers down your spine. A lasciviousness that has you moaning in surprise.

“Fuck,” you grind out between clenched teeth.

“Gladly,” Yoongi chuckles, his red eyes taking on a lecherous gleam. “Let’s unleash your darkness on the realms, my queen.”

Between one breath and the next, your knees are splayed wide, and Yoongi has his face buried between your thighs. All it takes is one languid swipe of his long, broad tongue to have you cursing again. Caustic words fall from your mouth, laced with vitriol as it’s unfair how good it feels. It’s like every inch of contact between your body and his writes itself across what was once your soul.

“Mmmph,” you moan incoherently as the beginning of an orgasm lashes against your insides. Yoongi greedily sucks and licks, tongue laving over your throbbing clit before sliding between your contracting walls.

A tsunami of darkness crashes out from within you, blanketing the surrounding forest in shadow. Wisps of clarity ebb and flow, drifting along with the gloom until Yoongi grounds you with an exceptionally sharp pinch to one of your nipples.

“Almost there,” he announces gleefully, licking his lips before launching forward and forcing you onto your back.

Yoongi feels like fire against you, his body scorching everywhere it touches. You expect to feel the soft ash against your back but the only sensation that ebbs in is a cool aeration against the exposed skin between your shoulder blades.

Monstrous arms wrap around you as Yoongi slots his too-big mouth over yours, invading you with his slick, serpentine tongue. Your eyes flutter open, and you catch a glimpse of a pewter sky beyond the scraggy branches that are suddenly closer overhead.

You try to pull away from his devouring kiss to alert him to the jagged web of dry wood about to scrape his back, but he growls and renews his effort to shove his tongue as far into your mouth as possible. Snaps and cracks fill the air, and wood explodes around you.

Realization dawns as more should-be-fear-turned-lust pours through your body and expands beyond it, filling the sky around you with a murky darkness. The power of that emotion propels you further, sending you and Yoongi far above the landscape to suspend over the entirety of the Realm of Darkness, leaving a streamer of smoke-like essence in your wake.

Yoongi throws his head back, finally relenting from the kiss. His broad chest heaves against yours, and his red eyes are wild as they roll manically before landing on you. “How is this possible?” you pant, hands gripping the muscles of his shoulders tightly.

“Anything is possible here,” he whispers fervently before spinning you so fast your vision blurs. The horizon spans as far as you can see around you. You and Yoongi are hundreds of feet higher than even the tallest mountain peak. Everything is a monochrome grey, black, or in-between. A jagged line of mountains rear to your right while inky streams and rivers zig zag to your left. It’s a hideously beautiful display that contradicts all scenic views you’ve ever seen, yet is better than all of them combined.

“Oh, God,” you whimper when Yoongi forces your legs wide and slots his hips between them from behind. Shadows billow around you, charged with energy that crackles and sizzles, barely restrained from being unleashed to wreak untold havoc.

Thin fingers slide around to cup the front of your throat, giving a none too gentle squeeze. Yoongi snarls, “There is no God here. We are the gods!” His declaration is punctuated by the head of his cock prodding against your sopping cunt. This new body is already eager to pleasure Yoongi and receive pleasure in kind.

His hips kick forward, and you feel every delicious ridge and ripple along his thick shaft. It feels like he invades the pit of your stomach, filling you to the brink. It’s a rush of wicked delight, pure erotic rapture.

You moan again, this time invoking the only name left on your tongue, “Yoongi!”

“I’ve been looking forward to fucking you like this for five years,” he grunts, emphasizing the words with his hips pumping against your ass in brutal strokes. “Claiming you wholly, decorating the world with our combined shadows. Look how they writhe for you, waiting for you to command them. Let go.”

Your eyes roll from side to side, taking in the dark, undulating forms stretching wide around you. With each prick of pleasure Yoongi insights in your body, they branch and roil further out, creating the foundation for your own personal bedlam.

Like a bounty won at the end of a hunt, Yoongi ravishes your body with his. He’s brutal, unrelenting and wanton. The hand on your throat tugs with every slam of his hips, bowing your back and forcing you to peer out at the Kingdom begging for your rule. Darkness beseeches you, screaming for your glory and power as it pours out and blankets the sky.

Your world narrows to one pin point of coherency. Yoongi. He is nothing and everything all at once. He is the beginning and the end—fear, loathing, lust, and madness…through it all, he is infinite. And he’s yours.

With one final, shuddering breath you let go; welcoming the darkness once and for all.

“Yes.” The word, whispered from your parted lips, is sucked away with the maelstrom that detonates around and within you.

You barely hear the guttural, primal roar that emits from Yoongi as he buries himself to the hilt and fills you with his terrible darkness. You shatter into a multitude of shards, a glittering storm that dances through the ether, sparking and catching on the thin membrane that stretches between the realms. All it takes is one weak point, a small breach in the barrier, and everything falls apart.

It’s glorious, feeling yourself everywhere all at once. Your body is still fluttering around Yoongi, sucking and welcoming his release into your soul. But, your consciousness is spread wide, bleeding through the nexus of this realm and the one you once called home.

The mortal realm bows to your will. You can feel the beings of the Realm of Darkness funneling toward the broken gateways, pouring through to consume and conquer with the whisper of your glory on their tongues. Fear reigns supreme, consuming everything in its path as you expand your hold on the darkness.

“My Queen of Darkness,” the ephemeral coo caresses your ear, phantom lips brushing along your shadows. Yoongi’s darkness blends with yours, adding to the pulse that seeps to all corners of existence. “No longer will you fear, as you are fear itself…glorious, neverending fear.”

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2023-10-23 ColorMePurplex2

#min yoongi #yoongi x reader #bogeymanyoongie #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #yoongi imagines #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfiction #bts yoongi #bts halloween #bts fanfic #bts horror #bts smut #bts angst #bts imagines #btscreaturescoven #micdropnet #bangtanwhq

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sugarwithtea · 1 year

Text

kissing under the mistletoe | jjk

pairing : coworker!jungkook x reader

rating/genre : pg-15 // fluff, angst, frenemies to lovers, coworker au

summary : 'tis the season to be jolly, but one certain doe-eyed person is hell bent on not letting you have anything jolly. wait till you find out how you are the only one he wants. alternatively : jungkook, your ass coworker (with a great ass)likes to annoy you so you can give him some of your time.

word count : 13.9k

warnings : swearing, like 2 pov switches? but reader is always in second person so yes, one flashback scene, mentions of the passing of a grandparent, beginnings of a panic attack, nyctophobia, kissing. not too christmasy tbh, cuz i know nothing about how christmas parties work! also yoongi plays two roles -- the asshole and the wingman, so everyone say thankyou yoongi!!

note 1 : this gift was created through @bangtansecretsanta and is for @apotatomashedbybts !! surprise, i am your secret santa! you already know it from the preview i posted but still haha! i hope u like this small lil thing i came up with!

note 2 : a big thanks to @oddinary4bts for beta-ing this! thanks for saving my ass ella!! i am sorry for putting you through the struggle of editting my word vomit haha! thankyou sm!! also, merry christmas! i am a whole decade late yes! -- also, please reblog if you read/like this!

read on ao3

what was i listening to? (a bollywood playlist)

moodboard | masterlist | taglist

You could kiss the person who made coffee for the first time on their mouth – dead or alive.

Walking out in the morning sun is a hellish task you have to do every morning, especially when it only leads you to entering your work building with a scowl and squinted eyes.

The only sight which makes your mornings pleasant is the lounged form of a certain Min Yoongi, right in front of your desk, eyes lazily raking over his surroundings – as if he'd be out the first chance he gets.

To be honest, you would too.

Especially when a guy who has sworn his job is to make your life hell strides in front of you, blocking your magnificent view of the one and only Min Yoongi, and smiles brightly at you – as if he is the only light source in the room.

"Hey." Jungkook perks up and you scowl at him. A way of you greeting him. Which he knows too well because the next second he rolls his eyes and turns back, leaning against your desk, now also staring at Min Yoongi.

"What do you want, Jeon?"

"What do you think he is thinking about?" his eyes squint more as he observes Yoongi more attentively.

"How there are people who have nothing better to do except think about other people's thoughts?" You should praise yourself for speaking a whole sentence before completing your cup of coffee.

"Cute. But that's my job." He whips his head back and looks down at you with a lazy grin, an eyebrow cocked and piercings glinting in the light.

Oh how you'd like to kiss that grin off his face.

Wait, no.

You shake your head.

"You are a graphic designer."

He tsks, "That's part time."

You roll your eyes and get back to setting up your desk for the day. If you knew Jungkook (which you do by now), he isn't going to move from here unless he is satisfied that your day had a hellish start. Well, jokes on him, cause your morning was hell even before you met him.

"What do you even find that interesting in him?"

Sigh. He is still staring at Min Yoongi.

"He is a treat for my sore eyes."

He perks up at your answer and turns fully towards you, leaning over your desk so his face is closer to yours, with an excited grin and a gleam in his eyes. A gleam which tells you his next question even before he opens his mouth-

"And me?"

"You are the cause of my sore eyes", you say with a sickly sweet smile that makes his smile drop.

The next time you run into Jungkook, it's during lunch break.

"Did you hear about the party?" your coworker Mina asks you as you both settle down on a table in the far corner of the cafeteria.

"What party?"

"The Christmas party, Y/N. I heard this time they are gonna hang more mistletoes than necessary", she snickers and you groan as you take a big bite of your sandwich.

"I don- weawy wanna see em soggin", you say through a full mouth and furrow your eyebrows as the chair beside you scrapes on the tile.

"Where are your manners, you little girl?" Jungkook teases as he settles down beside you.

You gulp your bite as quickly as you can.

"And where is your decency, you idiot?"

"I need to be decent to talk to you?" he asks as he shoves a spoonful of fried rice in his mouth, not looking at you.

"That too. And also, you need to ask me before you sit down at my table."

"Mina said yes." You look at her to see her smiling at both of you, like your mother would if you told her you were going to finally marry someone good.

Fucking traitor.

You play around with your food as Mina and Jungkook converse rather dramatically, with his hand repeatedly coming in front of your face as you hit it away. It's not that you hate him – you just cannot stand him.

The first day you walked into the office, he was there to greet you with a bunny smile and a cutting jawline. God, the contrast in his looks. He was donning a simple button down and slacks, rather decent for work. But what was not decent, was the way his thighs filled the slacks and made it look like he was sculpted by a god. You had to clamp your mouth shut to stop yourself from spewing indecencies when you roved your eyes over his figure.

His eyes were crinkling around the edges as he smiled at you and welcomed you with a warm, airy voice. You were, of course, glad to have been shown to your desk and around the office space by him. And your smile was giddy like a teenager's when he asked you to join him for lunch break at the end of the week.

But after that week started an endless saga of constant bickering and pulling each other's legs. Your little crush on him was soon forgotten by you as your daily smile was replaced by an etching scowl.

It was quick for you to find out how competitive he is, and how strongly he stands his ground – how fucking opinionated he is about matters concerning the office. Almost all your meetings end with him looking at you with a twinkle in his eyes at having convinced your boss to do his bidding.

Never has he once said anything malicious to you, but you are fed up with him having his way. So much so that when last month he didn't oppose your ideas in the conference room, you walked up to him and asked if he was drunk or feeling sick. He had just rolled his eyes and went about with his day, but after that you had warmed up to him a little bit.

Still, he never fails to show you how annoying he can be – just like he is being right now.

"What? Are you thinking about going with me?" his voice breaks you out of your reverie.

"Hmm. With Min." Oh how you love to see the way his smile turns sour. It doesn't fall though.

"I heard he is single this year." Mina hums out.

That's when his smile threatens to fall, but Jeon Jungkook has mastered the game of schooling his expressions into neutrality.

"Interesting", he says and turns away from you.

Your eyes twinkle with mischief as Mina recounts the tale of Min Yoongi's infamous breakup – how his latest partner walked into the office on a damned Friday and gently, but dramatically broke up with him. Yoongi had seemed unaffected because of course that's him and almost everyone who knows him knew that he was not looking for anything serious.

Still, he had felt a little embarrassed. So much for not getting people's attention. But the way his eyes had swept across the room after she had left made everyone cower back to their work, as they held a clear message – 'I dare you to talk about this anytime soon.'

No one had been stupid enough to go against him, not even Jungkook, who had been away that fateful day, nearly a month ago. So now, Mina is filling him up on the details in hushed whispers.

"Lord!" he exclaims once she ends her retelling of the legend – at least the latest gossip for your department.

"You think you'll be able to woo him? Miss 'treat for my eyes'?"

"Sore eyes", you correct him and he grimaces as you continue, "And watch me, Jeon. Don't cry when he asks me out to be his date for the party."

Min Yoongi didn't ask you out for the party.

You had to beg him to be his date.

One can say that you and him are on friendly terms. The 'I am your friend only if you buy me coffee for a week' kind of friendly. He agreed to be your date at the party after you bribed him, of course. But not before he analyzed and heard each and every angle of your reason.

Now the thing is, Min Yoongi can be an asshole if he wants.

And when he heard that your main motive is to spite a man who has been annoying you, he agreed without hesitation. He loves to rile people up, especially men who fall in the same spectrum as his – assholes.

He doesn't personally know Jungkook, but he heard your version of the story. And his reply was,"I sympathize with the man," as you flicked his forehead and swiped his coffee away from him. But one thing he knows,: for you, Jeon Jungkook is an asshole. And oh how he'd love to see drama and some shit go down at the ever so boring Christmas party. So, he agreed.

"He- What?" Mina gasps as you peel open a banana in the break room.

"Yup." Her eyes can't be bigger than this.

"He asked you out?"

"Uh huh."

"Ha. I don't fucking believe you." She points her unpeeled banana towards you and scoffs.

You roll your eyes,"Ask him then."

Telling her that is a mistake because as soon as you both walk out of the break room after finishing your snack, her eyes fall on Yoongi lounging at his desk (8 meters away) and she calls out his name – gathering the attention of every living being in the room, even Jungkook.

Oh how you want to yeet yourself out of the first window you see. Maybe the 12 floor fall will be more bearable than the embarrassment this lady is going to cause you.

"You are going to the Christmas party with…" she trails off.

Yoongi's eyes flicker to hers lazily, as if she is asking him if he works here or not. And maybe, talking is a big task for him because he just nods his head in your direction. Basically informing everyone and their mother that he is going with you, and then he turns back to his computer – without saying your name.

You wouldn't be surprised if he might have forgotten it.

As soon as everyone registers his gesture, audible gasps sound throughout the room, and you turn in time to see Jungkook standing at his desk with his eyes as wide as saucers and jaw almost touching the ground.

You give him a triumphant smirk and turn around to go to your desk.

And totally miss the way he crumples the small pink note in his hand and throws it in the trash.

The coffee shop where you usually get your morning coffee is closed today. The office coffee machine is broken today.

And you are a second away from unleashing your rage on everyone.

As you return to your desk from the break room, you catch Jungkook lurking around your desk, nervously biting his lip and glancing towards the door. God, if he is again here to bother you as he does every morning, you are going to punch a bitch in the face. Because ain't no way you have the patience you always have.

"Jungkook", you sigh as you reach your desk.

"Before you say anything, I just want to say I am sorry", he interrupts you and stands straighter.

"For what?"

"Aaaaand have a good day", he ignores your question and immediately darts away, as if you are the plague and he has to avoid you.

And did he just wish you a good day? Weird.

What's more weird though is the cup of coffee sitting at your desk.

Beside your computer sits a steaming cup of coffee, with the letters 'JK' written on it. Did he forget his coffee at your desk? Is this another bitter – pun intended – reminder that you haven't yet had your coffee? Because you didn't need one.

You pick up the cup to head back to his desk when you see a small note previously hidden by the cup. It is a white slip of paper, torn haphazardly. You would have mistook it for some stray paper had you not seen the ink gracing the white.

'The coffee shop was closed and someone broke the machine. Have a good day - JK :-)

p.s. I am sorry if I messed up your coffee.'

Oh. Uh Oh.

He bought coffee for you? He went out of his way to bring a cup for you? He kept it in mind that your day was ought to be shitty if you didn't have a cup of coffee and he tried to resolve it? And this was what he was sorry for?

You can't even think straight at this moment. You take your seat and eye the cup of coffee as if it asked you for your first born. Your mortal enemy, the bane of your existence – well that would be too much – brought you coffee. Maybe this is not something to mull over for this long, but that's you. And if Jungkook's part time job is thinking about other people's thoughts, then yours is thinking about yours – overthinking.

The only good thing he has ever done for you is holding the door open a few times. And you nodded at him with a smile then, setting aside your differences for a mere moment.

Now how are you meant to be a bitch to him if he acts like this? Suddenly the sweet coworker.

You mindlessly take a sip and your mind calms down a little bit, but still racing. He hasn't messed up your coffee. It is the perfect cup of Americano with one sugar, no more, no less. Fuck. He knows this too? You don't know his coffee order. Great. Now you feel sad for not having that trivial piece of information.

On the other hand your heart gets a little soft for him. Even though in a way, it always was. Or else you wouldn't have tolerated a person this long. Somewhere along the way, you have grown fond of the bickering between the two of you, the words passed in pure frustration. You have grown fond of him. God, how embarrassing. But maybe you can live with it.

You need to thank him the first chance you get. And try to be civil with him.

"He has a girlfriend? Since when?"

"I don't know. I think she is more of a friend accompanying him to the party." Mina says and rolls her eyes as you walk beside her on your way back to your car.

The whole day has flown by in a breeze and this time, you didn't get the chance to cross paths with Jungkook. You wanted to thank him for what he did in the morning, but the one time you willingly want to see him, he is out of sight.

"How would you know that? Maybe she is his girlfriend. I mean he did leave in a haste today when a girl called him."

"She could be anyone," she argues and you shake your head with a laugh.

"How can you be so sure of that?"

"Cause just a day ago he said-" she stops and unlocks her car, even though she didn't need to stop.

"He said what?"

Mina doesn't look at you while answering, shaking her head a little with a voice lower than before.

"That he is single, Y/N."

Huh. That doesn't mean he doesn't have a girlfriend now. A lot can happen in a day, you know that – especially now. But you don't say that to her as she is already getting inside her car, bidding you goodbye and sending you off.

You don't pay any mind to her and get into your car, already heading home.

Your mind races faster than air as you grip the wheel tighter. You don't even know why you are so bothered that Jungkook might have a girlfriend. He has always had some kind of flings going on, but for him to bring someone to an office party? That's a first. If he is bringing someone then maybe they are important for him, maybe it's serious with them.

Your stomach drops as you realize that maybe he lied to Mina about his relationship status because he wanted to give everyone a surprise? After all, it's been a long time since Jeon Jungkook had a serious girlfriend.

You really hope that's not the case. And you don't know why you hope so? Why the fuck do you care if Jungkook has a partner or not? You want to smash your head against the steering wheel with the amount of thoughts that plague your mind.

'Is she even his real girlfriend? Or he just wants to flaunt the fact that he can get anyone he wants?'

Now why did you think that? And what's with you accepting the fact that he can get anyone he wants? Well, he can. But, why would you think that?

You feel like you're being double-sided given that you are going to the party with someone. But that's not to make him jealous. It's to annoy him, because he thinks Min Yoongi is out of your league. Then why do you think that Jungkook is doing this to come back at you? Insane of you to even speculate something so ridiculous.

You shake your head as you pull into the parking lot of your apartment.

You feel like you are obsessed with him – which you are not. You are just thinking about general things like why would he have a partner, possibly in a serious relationship – in the same way one thinks about things like today's weather, right? Yes absolutely.

Way to gaslight yourself.

Has anyone ever said that normally when you think about something a lot, you start seeing it everywhere? Or like, the first thing you see in the morning?

Because why, as you are entering the lobby of your office building on a fresh Monday after the coffee fiasco, are you seeing Jungkook beside the elevator? He normally comes in way earlier than this. What did you do to deserve meeting him first thing in the morning?

As you near him, you realize he looks a bit tired. His eyes are sullen, with dark bags underneath them, his shoulders drooping and hair frayed over his forehead, looking very unkempt.

Your footsteps catch his attention and he whips his head towards you, surprisingly managing a weak smile and you immediately return the gesture, not thinking for a second. You nod at him, wordlessly, and stand beside him, waiting for the elevator to come from God knows what floor.

Okay. This feels like a perfect time to thank him. He could work with an ego boost, as you are in no way going to ask him why he is down – not sending any snarky greetings, or stupid questions your way. Kind of weird for the both of you to stand there in complete silence.

"Jungkook", you call out and he slowly turns his head towards you, answering with a hum.

"Thank you for the coffee that day." He smiles at this and you internally chide yourself.

"Ah. Did I get the order correct?"

"Yes. Yes you did. I wanted to thank you the same day but you left quite early so … " you trail off as he almost drops his smile, trying hard to keep the curve of his lips intact and in his cheeks, rather than dropping them. You can very well see the struggle he has to go through to stay cool and composed.

"Yeah. It was an emergency."

Oh.

So it was not some girlfriend of his? Why did you think so? Oh my god. And, it was an emergency. Shit. You mentally slap yourself for even trying to play the whole thing off very lightly.

The lift arrives that very moment and you both step inside, him sulking again.

"If you don't mind me asking, is everything okay?"

He looks at you, trying to come up with an answer, finally settling to go with the truth.

"Not really, I mean. My grandmother passed away."

You take in a sharp breath and that's exactly when the door closes. Oh. My. God. Y/N you absolute fucking idiot. You could bang your head against the wall for your stupidity and absolutely wrong judgment.

"I am so sorry. I-" you pause and he looks at you," I won't say I understand, cause I don't. But I hope you are okay?" Stupid of you to end your assurance like this. Didn't he just now say that everything is not okay?

He looks at you, speechless but with a gracious smile. You should do some damage repair over here. Of course, as you said, you don't understand the pain of losing a grandparent because you have never even met yours, already passed away before your birth. But, you know it can be very painful. And given Jungkook's current state, your heart aches to stand there doing nothing while he struggles to not break down.

"Can, can I hug you?" you ask meekly and he suddenly whips his head towards you, so you rush to explain yourself, "I am not good with words but I … " you trail off and look down, biting the inside of your cheek nervously.

Nuh huh. Not a good idea. Even if he is in grave misery, why would he hug you? Who are you, his friend? Ha, as if. Maybe you should take the offer back and not embarrass yourself further. Yes, that could work.

You look up to tell him it's okay but what happens next makes you go completely stiff.

He hugs you.

His warmth envelopes you as he slowly wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you in – albeit hesitantly, but still. Your hands fall limp by your side as your head finds solace on his chest. Remembering that you were the one who proposed a hug, and completely ignoring the feeling arising in your stomach, you wrap your hands around his torso, patting his back.

As soon as you reciprocate his touch, he audibly sighs and places his cheek on your head, holding you tighter. It's as if his grief evaporates a bit, the warmth from you forming a case around him. You think you hear him smile, but then again, you cannot hear a smile.

You stop patting his back and hold him tight, snuggling into his chest unintentionally. He holds your head to his heart and you can hear it beat wildly fast – maybe yours is in the same state. But you're glad he can't hear yours.

'Don't let yourself slip, Y/N.' you think because this is uncharted territory. With his body pressed up against yours and his sadness seeping into you, you don't know how you feel anymore. Is this you melting for him? Yes, you won't lie to yourself anymore. It's high time now. Especially with the way he fits into you, so perfectly – like a jigsaw piece fitting into the tiniest crevices of a puzzle. It's ridiculous how you came to this.

A small thank you is mumbled into your hair and you think he sniffs your hair before you both part, slowly, longingly. He stares into your eyes with hints of tears lining his eyes and your heart breaks a little. But when he smiles with all his will and shine, you think maybe you can look at it every second of your life.

The elevator dings and the door opens as you hastily pull apart from him, patting your hair and wringing your fingers through the unkempt strands. You had forgotten that you were in an elevator. That's when you realize that you might have hugged for what, like a few seconds? But the moment felt like it was stretched for minutes and hours of comfort.

Both of you step out of the elevator and walk side by side, albeit at a distance, and silently to your desks. Why can't you calm the fuck down? It was just a hug. And he just happened to be a bit vulnerable. God. Not a good sign for your feelings.

You are still disheveled by the time you reach your desk. To your surprise, he stops there for a moment longer than you might have expected, and looks at you with a small, soft, knowing smile.

"Thank you." he says quietly.

You chuckle.

"You already said that."

"I know, but still. Thank you, for everything." He nods, smiles and disappears in a flash, not even waiting for your reply.

What does he mean by everything?

Wow. Now you have one more thing to overthink about.

The day is slowly bleeding into night, the moon already visible as you make your way to the cab, pulling your coat tight against your shivering body. The cold is terrible, and more so is your mood.

You aren't exactly looking forward to the Christmas party, now knowing that Jungkook is bringing someone. Also, your main motive to go with Min Yoongi was to rile Jungkook up. But now, you don't necessarily want to annoy him – especially after the small moment you had a few days ago in the elevator. You have had a lot of time to think since then, and you know what you feel. You aren't going to lie to yourself anymore. It isn't as if you are going with Yoongi for your personal desires. Well, not anymore.

Of course, you are a little bit attracted to Min Yoongi. But that is just to give your eyes some sort of relief during the stressful work hours. He is like an insignificant celebrity crush. And, you know he is a bigger asshole than you and Jungkook combined.

So now, you are miserably waiting for him below your office building, after your cab drops you off. Usually, he is always on time. But also, he doesn't usually go to parties with you. For all you know he must be stalling to make you wait for him – just because he can.

A moment later, a cab pulls up right beside you and out steps the man you want to strangle with your bitter cold hands which could spear icicles through his throat. Also, how can he look so much better than you? Wearing a monochrome shirt tucked into black slacks, with hair parted in the middle and.. Did he dye them blonde? Yes. Oh god, he did. Why does he look so good that it makes you wanna kill him more?

"Where the fuck were you?"

"Taking my sweet time getting ready for you, sweetheart." You gag at this and quickly step inside the lobby, making a beeline for the elevator, which fortunately, you don't have to wait for. Now that you think about it, you could've waited for this asshole inside the lobby. Huh. Whatever.

You almost let the door close on him but he wiggles his way inside with a grunt. Jesus.

"We are meant to be each other's date for tonight", he reminds you.

"Unfortunately. But I know that."

At this he raises an eyebrow and looks at you.

"You were the one who begged me to go with you. Don't act all snippy now."

He is right. Your mood is bad, but that doesn't mean you can act like a complete dick. He hasn't done anything to annoy you, yet.

"Sorry."

Thankfully he doesn't reply back, sensing your snarky mood and just nods at your weak ass apology.

The elevator opens to a complete ruckus. There are people bustling around the hallway leading up to the glass doors behind which there is more chaos. The top floor of your office building is luxurious and pristinely decorated, with high ceilings and sleek marble flooring. The party's decorations are subtle, with a christmas tree and multiple lights. But one thing that catches everyone's eye is the unusual amount of mistletoes.

They are literally everywhere. At the entrance, hanging on a string of fairy lights over the open bar, propped over the dance floor, in the hallway leading to the restrooms. Everywhere. There might be more but your vision is not so keen on finding them.

You walk with Yoongi by your side, none of you touching the other (why would you?) when you spot Mina at the bar. Of course. Whenever you need her, she'll be getting absolutely wasted. You walk up to her, Yoongi surprisingly keeping up with you and you call her out.

"Hey. You came alone?" She has a partner and they have been together for more than two years. They have attended almost all parties together but today she is alone, drinking her time away.

"Cyan has gone to their parent's house. It's been a while since they visited," You smile at that. It's true. They have been around for almost everything. You are glad they finally get to visit their family this holiday,"But that means that I feel so fucking alone right now." Mina completes with a whine and gulps her drink down.

You coo at that and stand behind her, draping your arms around her shoulder and bringing her near you.

"Don't worry. You have us to give you company." You say and look at Yoongi hopefully who just grunts as a response.

"I mean, you have me, at least."

She laughs and shakes her head.

"I don't expect anyone, Y/N. Go and enjoy. If you need me sometime, you'll find me getting shitfaced over here."

"Enjoy with who? Yoongi?" You laugh and stand back, rolling your eyes. You have only one friend at your workplace. And she wants to drown in her misery with whiskey. A concerning amount of whiskey. She flags the bartender to get another drink and you try to ask her to cut it down a little when Yoongi moves way too close to you.

His hand slides around your waist and he pulls you in a little. You gasp and look at Mina who is not paying attention and then hit his arm lightly.

"What are you doing?" You whisper, yell at him and he grins.

"You know, I like annoying people."

"Tell me something I don't already know. And don't try to annoy me." He moves you a little away from the bar and near the dance floor, still holding onto you.

"Hmm. Not you." He hums out and you furrow your eyebrows questioningly. At that he rolls his eyes and dips his head to your ear as you go completely still. "3 o'clock to your left. Don't look directly."

You do look directly. And see Jungkook at the far end leaning against the wall with his jaw clenched, hands in his pocket, and looking directly at you. Your breath hitches a little at his sight. You quickly move your head to Yoongi again and look at him, absolutely enjoying your state.

"I'm loving how Jeon is absolutely burning right now." He grins and you have the urge to strangle him right then and there.

"Also," He begins and pulls you closer, simultaneously leading you both a little more towards the dance floor,"did you notice that we both are matching? Coincidentally of course."

You widen your eyes in realization. Why is your luck like this? Of all people, you match with Min fucking Yoongi. Mindlessly your eyes go down to your outfit, a black fitted dress that goes to your ankles with a white strap running across your waist, and a sweetheart neckline, you realize he is right. Your monochromatic dress matches with his outfit. Ugh.

On the other hand, Jungkook is wearing a khaki leather shirt and black fitted slacks which accentuate his … everything. His hair is swept back showing his forehead and his piercings just add to the appeal, gleaming under the Christmas lights. You can climb him like a tree.

You don't look at him again though. His look is very much imprinted in your mind. Yoongi, that fucker, grins again at your miserable state and you hate that he loves this so much.

"He is jealous, oh my god." You don't pay any mind to him and sway a little to the music. Because there's no way Jungkook is jealous. Now that you think about it, why is he alone? Hasn't Mina said that he was going to come with someone else?

"He is … alone?" You mumble distractedly and Yoongi rolls his eyes.

"Are you going to ask everyone the same question?" He says referring to the question you asked Mina.

"No. I mean, he was going to come with someone."

"But he hasn't." Yoongi says slowly as he takes your hand and twirls you in a circle, dancing along with you.

To anyone who is watching you two, it might seem that you are engaging in a slow peaceful dance, and conversing with grins decorating your face. Because even in your confused state, your face reflects a hint of mirth, and Yoongi is already sporting a lopsided grin.

But it's not the truth. It's basically your mind racing a million miles an hour and Yoongi teasing you to his heart's content. The whispers between you two can easily fool anyone, even Mina who you see staring at you like a bee stung her. It is comical, the look on her face. You'll have to explain the whole mess to her later. Cause why are you dancing with Min Yoongi so lovingly? As if he hung the stars in your sky.

He raises his eyebrows at you and tips his head towards the dance floor, finally. You were wondering how long it would take for him to ask you there. You roll your eyes and he tugs you to the elevated center, just when the song switches to a slow, piano version of 'All I Want For Christmas Is You'. Oh what perfect timing.

"So, you heard me?" He asks when you place your arms around his neck, and sway with him slowly.

"I did. I am just thinking." He gasps at this.

"Since when?" And you hit his arm, mumbling a word your mom wouldn't be too glad hearing you speak – even if you are a 26 year old woman.

"In all honesty, though. He is a goner for you." He shakes his head as if it is as obvious as day.

"What?"

"Are you fucking blind? He is in love with you. No no, he has been in love with you, for so fucking long." He laughs and twirls you again.

"Yoongi, don't." You warn him. What the actual fuck?

"I know we are not friends. But I know a lovesick guy when I see one. And Jeon is just that." You furrow your eyebrows at that, and mindlessly, your eyes flit to the form of Jungkook completely seething at the opposite wall. Oh my god, he might just break the glass (which he picked up god knows when) from his tight grip on it.

Your stomach dips at the realization that he really does look jealous. Hellishly jealous of Yoongi. Because his stare is burning holes in his back but Yoongi, the ever asshole, is enjoying it.

"Also, later, when he asks you, tell him I'm gonna go home with that DJ guy." Yoongi's quiet voice breaks you out of your thoughts.

"I am not gonna fuck that DJ guy."

"Idiot. I," He takes his hand off your waist and points to himself,"I am gonna fuck him. You are gonna fuck him." He tips his head in Jungkook's direction and your face heats up.

"Why would he ask that?" You grumble and look away.

"Oh you know he will." You do know. Of course. If he really is jealous right now, and if he really does like (love) you how Yoongi is saying, he will definitely ask that.

The rest of the song plays on and you both move in silence, which gives you plenty of time to think. One, you like him. It's not rocket science to conclude that you are head over heels for him. You don't think you love him – but is there a light? Yes. And that scares and thrills you at the same time. Also, Yoongi? Jungkook loves you? You'd be an absolute fool to agree with whatever Min has to say, but the possibility makes your inside warm and your heart race, all giddy and hopeful. No, you are not hopeful that he will love you. But, he likes you to this extent? Would you have ever thought?

'Stop it, Y/N. It's not good to think about what Min said and raise your hopes and then shatter them', you think and shake your head. Yoongi, obviously, catches this and quirks a brow at you, at the very moment when the song ends. You wave his curiosity off and get away from him, walking down the dance floor with him on your tail.

"Go and woo your DJ guy." You wink at him and he understands what you actually need, easily going away with a knowing smile that shows his gums.

All this time, while you were navigating through your thoughts, you have lost sight of Jungkook. So it's to your utter surprise that you find him sitting at the bar when you go there to get a drink, with his head hung low and staring into his empty glass.

He looks so sad, as if he is living alone in a barren world. Your heart almost reaches out to him but you stop yourself in time, and instead, quietly perch yourself on the empty stool beside his.

Your dress rustles a little and that catches his eye. He turns to look at you with downtrodden shoulders, and watches you order a drink. His eyes trace every motion of yours and you try your best to get your drink in your hand before looking towards him. You'll need it.

"We peasants owe this pleasure for what?" His smile is sweet, sickly. You take a sip of your drink and smack your lips.

"Jungkook." You sigh when he still has that painful smile on his lips.

"Where is Yoongi? Don't you wanna dance with him on another number?" he asks innocently but you know the mask very well now.

"Jungkook", you warn.

"What? Why are you sad? Didn't you want him? Now you have him." He chuckles and you scowl. "A treat for my sore eyes", He mocks you and you finally snap.

"What is your problem?"

"You."

He stills at your comment and you are at your peak.

"You are my problem. Don't you understand this is so fucking messed up? We play cat and mouse without even a single word about what we feel. It's," you sigh,"it's so tiring. All we do is bicker like teenagers and then get offended when the other does something. Like, isn't it our motive to offend each other? To shove the other to the ground? I'm just confused and annoyed right now."

"It's not my motive to offend you."

You all but choke at that, and slam your drink down on the table, doubling down in fits of cough. Your hand flies to your mouth to cover it and simultaneously Jungkook's goes to your back, patting and running soothing circles to calm you down.

"It's not my motive to offend you," His voice is calm, leveled,"But I don't know, everything I do seems to tick you off. It's like that brain of yours is a bomb and I am the trigger", he finishes and your coughs die down. You know you should think straight, be a person, act like an adult. But when he said your mind was fickle and implied that you were the problem, you surely didn't like it.

"Oh so now I am the problem?" you grumble and he sighs. You are being a bitch, you know that. You also know that you shouldn't have said this. He was genuinely trying to mend things with you. You don't wait for his answer and storm off. Nowadays when your brain goes haywire, you go away for a while to calm yourself down. Because you decide, the open bar at your office Christmas party is not the perfect place to have a showdown of 'Who can be the bigger asshole?' with Jungkook.

You need some time to think, gather your thoughts. Learn how to think with your brain and not like a bitch.

Jungkook fucked up.

So much for getting on your good side. What was he even thinking? He knows he always has to walk on eggshells around you. Then why couldn't he do it for one more night?

What was he thinking when he made that small little card to ask you out for the party? Fucking idiot, that's what he is. His head falls on the counter and he groans. He wants to flip this table.

He closes his eyes and sighs.

---

Jungkook is feeling cranky. He has been called earlier because someone new is joining today, and he is expected to be on his best behavior. He checks himself in the glass of the door which can open anytime soon. Even though blurry, his reflection is enough for him to know he looks presentable – which he was skeptical of, given that he has rolled out of bed and rushed to the office in less than forty-five minutes. Without coffee.

He decides he needs a cup of coffee before the new person comes in. Just so they don't think he isn’t an asshole, because he can be one without caffeine in his system.

His outfit is presentable and he is feeling good once he has a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. Now this is the Jeon Jungkook he likes.

The door opens and Jungkook, leaning against the wall, lets a wide grin spread over his face, with his eyes crinkling and radiating warmth. Welcoming. He straightens up a little, hoping he doesn't weird you out by his teeth and slouch.

The first thing he sees as you step inside is your anxious face. Your features are twisted into nervousness, but there is excitement lurking in between those lines. Your eyes take everything in, but you are not scared. No, you are far from scared. With the black slacks and white button up that you don, paired with the sleekest high heels he has ever seen, your aura is dominating. It's a 'no nonsense' vibe. And even though you are nervous, because who isn't when it's the first day at their new job, you carry yourself with grace and confidence.

Your eyes scan the surroundings, and finally land on Jungkook. He notices that as soon as you see his smiling face, full of glee, some of your nervousness dissipates as your features relax. And even when your eyes were meek, Jungkook noticed one thing.

You are pretty. The kind that doesn’t let him take his off you. Not the gaudy, flashy kind. But then again, pretty can't be defined with another adjective – it's just that, pretty. The air you carry with yourself asks for people's attention, and the smile that graces your features then tells him that you never take that attention for granted.

Your smile is soft, and he wants to count the eyelashes that brush your cheek whenever you blink. Jeon Jungkook is not a man who would fall on his knees for a woman, especially before he even knows her name. So, he isn’t falling that deep, yet. But god do you intimidate him, even if you look kind.

"Hello, I am Y/N." Oh god. Your voice is sweet too. You have extended your hand and he quickly shakes it, trying not to linger.

"My dumbass didn't fix the wall clock and I forget I have other means to check the time. I am sorry for being late", you hastily explain and Jungkook wants to say it's okay, you are hardly late, but he is spellbound.

That day, he shows you around the office. Yes, he talks a lot. He also makes you laugh. And so, the smile on your face at the end of the day leads him to ask you to accompany him for lunch that weekend. You understood it as lunch in the break room and Jungkook didn't have the heart to correct you, trying to get anything he could.

At the end of the week, he knew he had an inkling of something for you. Something that made him giddy like a teenager.

---

Jungkook wonders how you both came to this. Maybe he knows. But he was never sure what annoyed you so much. He tried to be on his best behavior around you, but somehow it irked you.

Nevertheless, he continued to fall for you. So much that he had hope, that one day maybe you would not see him through the red fog of annoyance.

But feelings are a bitch. And so is someone else, because-

"Well, that was painful to watch." Min fucking Yoongi, he is a bitch.

"And who are you exactly helping by being here?" Jungkook returns without missing a beat, straightening up with a scowl on his face.

"Oh don't worry, Jeon. I don't help. Being kind does not fit my aesthetic", he quips back and settles on the stool you were on just a minute ago.

Jungkook groans when he realizes that Yoongi has no plans of going away soon. He turns back to his empty glass and almost slams his head down on the counter but thinks better.

"Min Yoongi, you are literally the last person I want to see right now."

"Trust me, I know." He quirks his head and sets Jungkook with a look that makes him want to-

"Then why are you here?"

"Because I have nothing better to do." Yoongi shrugs and Jungkook wills himself to not kill him.

A moment passes in which Yoongi stays quiet, surprisingly. Meanwhile, Jungkook turns around and his eyes scan the expanse of the room. He is trying to find you, of course. He had a thought of following you after you stormed off, but he knew better than to. After so long, he knows that when you need space, you should have space. Or else things can become ugly real soon.

He still thinks about the days when you happily chatted with him, didn't go away or shut yourself when he came near you or sat with you for lunch. He does have an idea that his overbearing nature and need to prove himself led you to stray away from him – after all, you had first seen him as a friend, and if he himself turned it into a competition, then you needed to go along with it.

The both of you are an odd case, but he loves it nonetheless. Loves how your face lights up whenever you achieve something, whenever you are happy. He loves how excited you get when you go on one of your mindless rants, not knowing that it's Jungkook who is listening to you, and your friend has stopped paying attention a long time ago. He loves the way you bring him comfort from whatever you do, loves the playful banter between you two. He loves everything about you.

Oh my god, he thinks. He needs to stop drinking. Or else god forbid he spews his thoughts out loud.

His heart sinks when he realizes you are nowhere to be found, at least in his line of sight.

"How lovesick can you be, Jeon?"

He warily turns his head to look at Min Yoongi. How can someone be so fucking frustrating?

"How stupid can you be, Min?" he asks and Yoongi snorts in his drink. He slowly swirls the amber liquid in his glass and grins.

"You know, you should tell her that you love her."

Jungkook stills. His hand that was straightening the collar of his shirt stops and he blinks. What did he say?

"What?"

"What? I said something?" Oh god. Who pays him to act like this?

Jungkook shakes his head, not able to say anything. Is it so clear? He doesn't even know Yoongi. Still, Yoongi can see through him and his stupor. Is he being so obvious? Jungkook's brain goes on an overdrive of questions. Do you know this? Is this why you are always running away from him? Do you, do you hate him so much? Oh god, he can't bear to think this. He immediately turns around to get another drink.

"Calm down, Jeon." Yoongi says, rather calmly.

"I am calm."

"Tell that to yourself." He snatches the drink as soon as it is placed in front of Jungkook, holding it at an arm's length.

"Min Yoongi I swear to god-"

"What? Idiot. See we don't know each other. And believe me, I love drama, especially during the holidays. But nothing goes on for this long. So suck it up and talk to her." He takes a sip from the drink Jungkook ordered for himself and shakes his head as if he is disappointed in him.

The look on his face makes Jungkook want to defend himself.

"I tried to talk to her. But evidently, my words are always wrong."

Yoongi sighs,"Jungkook, you know her better than I do. Take your time to think about the words, not your feelings." He stands up to leave and continues in an almost whisper, "Also, don't think that she hates you, or else you'll be surprised." Yoongi goes away as soon as he says this, without any kind of explanation or expressions, leaving behind a flabbergasted Jungkook.

Loving is not easy, or so Jungkook has heard. But with you, it is the easiest thing he has ever done. He fell for you like the leaves fall in autumn, slow and sure. He layed in your wake as you graced him with your presence. He is helpless, he is gone. He hopes you don't really hate him. Because, he doesn't know how much more of this heartburn he can endure.

Or else you'll be surprised

Yoongi's parting (not exactly parting) words echo in his mind. What does he mean by this? Jungkook wonders and wonders until he-

Oh my god, does this mean?

He needs to find you soon.

The lights in the ladies room are way too bright for your liking. You don't need to see your reflection so clearly in the mirror, especially when you feel so fucking guilty.

You feel like an asshole – maybe you are one. All this time you had been thinking about him, and his gestures which were oh so sweet. And when finally he tries to mend things with you, you snap. Like a teenager who doesn't know how to control all the new emotions they are feeling, you fucking snap. It was so childish of you to run away from him, from the situation like that.

The look on his face when you said that makes your heart ache. And it's not the joint ache or the pain you feel when you twist your ankle, no. It's like heartburn, the one that claws at your throat and chokes you. You literally gasp for air as tears pool in your eyes.

You are glad there is no one in the restroom when a stray tear makes its way on your cheek. (Finally your waterproof makeup is of use).

This is not you. Your reflection mocks you and you want to break the mirror. You are not like this. You don't hurt people, especially those who go out of their way to let you know that they care for you. You know no one else but you are to blame for this. Because when you look back at it, Jungkook has always tried to talk to you, and never rudely. He has always been playful, a little sarcastic with that gleam in his eyes.

You were already soft for him. Or else you wouldn't have kept up with him for this long. But at this point, you are completely putty, folding for him. It's pathetic. You are pathetic and you know that.

The hurt look on his face flashes behind your eyes as you close them, and you wince. You want nothing more than to hug him, to kiss him and say that he is not the problem. You want to assure him that he was never the problem, and you are not annoyed with him. You are annoyed with yourself.

It's ridiculous how quickly you go on a self-hating tangent when someone you lo- care for, is hurt by you. No, you need to stop, or else you'll be here for God knows how long.

You need to find Jeon Jungkook at the earliest.

You dry your eyes and wash your hands, (not your face because your life is not a movie) as you finally look at yourself in the mirror.

You can do this. You can speak your heart to him, and hope he doesn't run away.

Your first step outside the restroom is full of resolve, and directed towards one, and only one goal.

To find Jungkook.

The feeling that is rising in your heart is making you giddy, like a goddamn teenager. Even though guilt is hidden somewhere in the nooks and crannies of your emotions, the one that is visible is the same you feel right now. Your cheeks burn at the thought of what if?

This is pathetic. You are a twenty six year old, well experienced woman. Why are you blushing at your imaginations? Wait, no. Why are you imagining stuff? You need help. Better, you need him.

You cautiously move towards the bar again, hoping to find him still sitting there (very low chances), while also looking around for any chances of him not sitting there (not any, there are many).

But, as soon as you get away from the restroom, darkness spreads all around as the power suddenly cuts off. You can literally hear the power trip – so it's either someone messing or it's really an accident.

Audible gasps are heard from all around as people scramble to grasp the situation, and themselves. Your feet don't move as people rush all around you. You stay rooted in your place when your vision doesn't help you, at all. The lack of windows doesn't allow any kind of moonlight or streetlight to filter in, and it's absolute darkness.

You consider yourself to be brave, headstrong. But darkness is where you draw the line. It's nauseating. You feel like it's sticking to your body and creeping up your skin, making you want to shake yourself out of the daze. It scares you to no end, because you do not like creepy things.

Your mind tries to calm you, but it fails. Your feet try to move, but they fail. Your eyes try to adapt to the darkness, but again, they fail. You can feel the panic settling in your bones. You need something to ground yourself to. You count your breaths slowly and shake your fingers but the whispers and murmurs of people all around you makes you want to crouch down and shout with your hands on your ears. You need something. You need someone to-

"Y/N?"

That- Your neck almost breaks with the speed at which it turns towards the voice. The voice which you want, which you need.

"Jungkook", you sigh, but your voice is high pitched, scared. And as soon as you say his name, you are pulled into a hard, but comforting chest. You immediately wrap your hands around his torso and cling to him for your life. Like he is the only source that is letting you breathe and live.

He holds you close, tight, as if you will slip away if he lets you go. And maybe you will. Because you desperately need an anchor, and he is just the one for you. He invades your senses and that's when you feel like maybe you can breathe again.

You gasp for air as tears line your eyes. You hate the dark. It makes you see things you don't even want to know about.

"Shh. Hey, I am here. Don't worry", his voice breaks your dangerous train of thought and you sigh, nodding against his chest.

You try to control your breathing, slowly as your nails almost dig in his back. You feel like maybe you'll fall down, but the constant rhythm of his heart beating under your ear grounds you, and wills you to stay on your feet. You almost fucking melt in his arms when his lips touch your hair, and he mumbles calmly.

"Breathe, breathe with me. Don't worry, everything is gonna be fine. Just stay with me, okay?" His voice is like honey, bleeding into your ears and giving you comfort. His breathing gets slow, to help you, and you mumble a small okay into his chest, with your eyes screwed shut.

You try to focus on the rhythmic movement of his chest, as it goes up and down with every inhale and exhale of his. Soon enough, your breathing matches his and your worry and panic deflate a big amount. You can finally feel yourself again. And the sudden realization of his scent invading your (now normal) breathing makes you soar in the clouds.

His heartbeat is faster, now that you notice. It's the same that you felt when you hugged him in the elevator. You mindlessly snuggle into his chest and his lips press against your head with more resolve.

"Hey, you okay there?"

That's when you realize.

He knew. He knew of your fear. He knew how you feel when you encounter the dark. And the way he pulled you in and comforted you just solidified the fact that he knew this information very well.

"You, you knew that I-" you gulp. You don't even need to speak for him to know your next words.

"I did." An assurance. Two words that tell you that he knows and will always know of the things that unsettle you. And he will always be there to bring you back to yourself, bring you back to him.

"How?"

"Does that matter? I am just glad that you are here with me." His arms around you hold you even tighter, and you want to say that you will always be there with him.

You smile with red, burning cheeks as you move your head and let your lips rest against his chest. You are so glad he can't see your goddamn blush, but you can swear you just felt the beat under you speed up.

"Thank you", you whisper quietly, but you know he heard it when he moves your head and dips down.

His lips touch your forehead and you still.

The action is so simple, yet it twists your heart in knots. Because, he kissed your forehead. Out of care, out of affection, out of adoration. It's so sweet that you want to die. Is this how you die? Overwhelmed by the simplest act of affection? You are glad it's him, because at this moment, you can't think of a better way to go.

He pulls away and looks down at you with concern in his big, doe eyes. You want to drown in them. You can't see his face properly, but you know the sight is breathtaking, you can feel it. You can see the outline of a strand of hair falling on his face, and you move a little away, breaking the hug to try to look at his whole face, when the lights suddenly switch on.

Brightness fills the room (brighter than before) and you step back, suddenly blinded by the intensity of the light. Your hand shields you as if you have just walked out in the sun, and maybe you have. Because Jungkook's glow is surely blinding you.

His eyes gleam softly, big and doe-like. He stares at you with what you can only make out as stars in his eyes. It's enthralling, the feeling that settles in the pit of your stomach. You don't even realize you were blatantly staring at him when loud cheers break you out of your reverie.

People all around are cheering a few couples who found themselves under the numerous mistletoes hung almost everywhere. You watch with amusement as a couple dives right into a makeout session as soon as they realize they have the opportunity, while a pair hesitates to even look at each other, just a few feet away.

A few painful seconds pass after which the crowd gives up on cheering them, because clearly, it's a lost cause. And clearly, you don't realize what you are doing till someone nudges your hand. You don't know who that person is, because they walk away as quickly as they came, shouting out a smug thing.

"You know, it's bad luck to not kiss."

It's what?

Jungkook gasps as he looks up and belatedly you both realize you have found yourself under a mistletoe. Under. A. Mistletoe.

There is someone whistling, there is someone laughing, there is someone cheering, but all you can see is that you are standing with him under a mistletoe, as he looks at you like he too, can't notice anything else.

You don't know if it's really bad luck or not. But you do know that you'd really like to kiss Jungkook. And you hope he does too.

None of you move, and he mistakes your lack of action as hesitancy.

"If you are uncomfortable we can move somewhere else. I mean-"

"No."

Jungkook blinks.

"Huh?"

"I mean, it's bad luck to not kiss. Right?" you shrug, "So we would not like that. Right?" Why, god why? Why are you speaking like a teenager? Just, hold him and tell him you are head over heels for him and would kiss him even if that meant bad luck for you. You hope he doesn't walk away at your reasoning.

He stops back a smile and nods like a child, his eyes holding the humor and happiness his mouth fails to deliver.

"Yes, of course. We don't need bad luck."

You roll your eyes and stand straighter, a smile playing at your lips.

Is this what dreams feel like? Is Jungkook dreaming? He feels like he is flying. There is no way you are standing in front of him, a flustered mess and making excuses to kiss him. As if he won't kiss you whenever you ask him to. He can kiss you all day (only if you allow him to, of course).

He feels giddy. He wants to hold you and recite the poem he read a while ago that reminded him of you. He wants to write you a song that makes you laugh and look at him with hearts in your eyes. He wants to do everything for you, and everything with you. A kiss is only the beginning of his love for you.

The smile on his face increases when his hands find your face. There is literally no one watching you, no one is there to pester you to kiss, but still you both do it. It's not a movie, but he feels like time slows down around him.

A lone petal which has been enduring the weather for a long time, finally falls when he dips down and attaches his lips to yours.

In the midst of the chaos of the party, Jungkook attaches his lips to yours, and you still. For a moment, you forget that you are standing in the middle of a crowded hall. For a moment, all you feel is him.

An oh so sweet feeling settles deep inside you, and it seems like a lifelong yearning of yours has been settled. He moves his lips against yours gingerly, his hand cradling your jaw as if you will break if he even touches you with fervor. Your toes curl with the soft intensity of the kiss and you lean into him a bit more. The hints of wine that you taste on his lips pulls you into throws of ecstasy and your hands find themselves around his neck.

He kisses you like a dew drop touches the petals of a flower in the morning, soft and gentle. His tongue doesn't skirt at your lips, and you are glad, or else you would've turned a mistletoe kiss into a makeout session. You forget about everything around you.

But when he pulls away, his nose a hair's breadth away from yours, and breath fanning across your lips, you realize you don't even need to know about anything around you.

It's him, and just him.

"Y/N?" it's a whisper quieter than the quietest of nights, but you hear it nonetheless. As if he is asking you if you are still there with him or are still swimming in the ecstasy he has thrown you into.

You don't know what you are feeling. You don't know what to speak when your mind has gone on an overdrive and shut down simultaneously. What if you open your mouth and speak things that are so incoherent that he thinks he has to walk on eggshells around you, again? It's tiring trying to navigate your mind when you can hear your heartbeat loud in your ears. Does he hear it too?

Your eyes stare into his, with millions of questions and just a look of his doe eyes assure you that you are not alone. You will get answers, you will know what this is.

He swipes a finger at your cheek, as if asking you for your sincerity, and you mindlessly nod at his unworded request. It's funny that you are operating on autopilot, but you can't do anything else when your breath has been stolen from your lungs.

A loud cheer breaks you out of your reverie and you notice that people have now gathered around you two. God, it's so embarrassing. Not kissing him, but unintentionally acting like a fool in front of everyone. You think you see Yoongi with a smug smile in your peripheral vision, and maybe, just maybe, Mina is cheering too, but you ignore the whole ordeal.

You need to get out of here.

And just then-

"Wanna get out of here?"

Yes, God yes. Jungkook asks you the right question at the right moment, because of course he is Jeon Jungkook and he is always there for you. You nod and your smile grows as he pulls away from you, only for his hand to touch your elbow. His touch is featherlight, but you shiver nonetheless.

As you leave, you smile at the onlookers and they start to disappear. You are glad no one is nosy enough to come and ask you what will happen next.

You know two people who would like to know, and you know they, or at least Mina, is hopefully looking at you, but you just give her a look that says 'Later' and run away behind Jungkook.

Your feet follow his without other thought and you think maybe that's just what it is.

The night is still young when you step out in the fresh air with him. None of you speaks a word, it's as quiet as the night around you. Until it isn't.

“I am glad we got out of there. Those people are crazy.” Jungkook shakes his head as he says this and you laugh.

“True. Especially Mina and Yoongi. It's so good that we escaped them.”

At this Jungkook stops walking and you almost stumble. When you look around, you both are standing in an empty street with the streetlight and the moonlight being your only companion. There is no noise, given that you both got out from the parking lot and not the main lobby.

But the silence invites you like an old friend, and you are glad that the only one breaking it is Jungkook, and no one else.

"Did he, did he tell you?"

"Did he tell me what?" you wonder out loud. Is he talking about Yoongi? Well, Yoongi did tell you a couple of things. But you don't know how much of them you are going to reveal to Jungkook. Yoongi did make some speculations about his feelings, and even though you have a positive feeling, you are not going to try your luck right now. Especially when he is so close.

"Did he tell you anything after you kind of stormed off from the bar?" His voice is meek, unsure, and you grimace when he mentions your moment of weakness – your childish action of storming off during a conversation.

"No." You shrug and quickly add, "and I'm so sorry for storming off earlier. I was a little-"

"Y/N." He takes your hand and you pause,"it's okay, don't think about it." His hold on your wrist is firm but kind, as if afraid you will run away, again but also not trying to hurt you.

He shakes his head when you fail to say anything but just look at him. "Come here."

And you walk into his arms without hesitancy, like a moth drawn to a flame. He wraps his arms around you and you sigh.

"You don't need to apologize for feeling," he whispers, "but you also don't need to feel like you have to hide from me."

You know that. And you feel relieved now that he has said that.

"I was just feeling too much," you mumble into his chest.

"I know. I was too. And it's okay."

You laugh at that, genuinely. But not in a way that says that he joked, in a way that says you understand what he means. You don’t even think about how suddenly you both resonate with each other on so many levels.

A gust of wind blows your hair and you shiver a bit, despite being in his arms.

“Wanna go somewhere else?” he asks and you wonder out a loud ‘Where?’

“Just, one of my favorite places. I am sure you will love it too.”

And you have no reason to say no to him. So you follow him, yet again, giddily.

It’s colder. The raised area allows the wind to affect you more. But you don’t care when you can see almost the whole city beneath you. Especially with Jungkook beside you bathed in moonlight, holding your hand.

He booked a cab from the street you both were on. And he never let go of your hand. The whole ride was quiet – you didn’t even ask him where exactly you were heading to, and still you knew you were going to love it. Because the easy smile and the glimmer in his eyes said so. His hand firm but gentle in yours said so. And you had no reason to not trust him.

“Wow.”

“Isn’t it really beautiful?” he asks you excitedly, as he looks at you with unadulterated joy.

It is. You can see specks of light dancing in front of your eyes, the Christmas lights. There is no snow – but you think it wouldn't have even survived in front of the warmth you are feeling.

“You come here often?”

“Naah. I don't usually get time to. In college I used to, though. Nowadays I only come here when I feel way too overwhelmed by everything.” He smiles and you do too. ”This place can clear your head quickly, and make you feel like you are on top of the world.”

“Well, I don't know about the top of the world, but it's definitely on top of the city.” He laughs and squeezes your hand, as if you said the most hilarious thing ever.

You know you should talk with him. It's not a fairytale, that suddenly you kissed and now you will live happily ever after. You need to settle down your previous grudges and talk, discuss your feelings a lot more. It's not college all over again, where you will communicate just for the namesake, nor are your feelings for him so trivial that you can just let it go.

"Jungkook."

"Yeah, we need to talk." He smiles at you and your eyes widen slightly.

"What are you, a psychic?"

He just laughs and leads you to a circular brick structure built around some small plants that you notice just now. They are the apt height for you to sit on them like benches, and you realize this place is not that much of a secret. Still, it counts.

You sit down side by side, with your shoulders grazing each other's. And even though there is a lot of space, none of you shift.

"I am genuinely sorry for all the times I annoyed you so much that you felt like you needed to walk away," he begins with his eyes trained on his fingers in his lap.

You shake your head at this. It feels ridiculous to you to sit here and listen to him drone out apologies – as if it's his fault or something.

"I think we should just sit down one day and say sorry to each other, because even I have a lot to apologize for."

He laughs and your shoulders slump with relief at the fact that he doesn't deny your words – that even you have a lot to apologize for.

You think you are a little tipsy. And the red dust on Jungkook's cheeks tells you that he is more tipsy than you. You wouldn't be surprised if he was, especially after the one too many drinks he was having at the bar, while you were dancing with Yoongi. That thought takes you back to the moment you bickered with Jungkook at the bar, and stormed off. Even though he said it was okay, you know that was wrong of you.

"I, you are not my problem, Jungkook."

"Huh?"

He looks at you with big doe eyes, and you think how easy it is for you to drown in them. The moonlight reflects off his face in glowing beams, and the stars find themselves in his eyes. His lips are set in a confused frown, and the red dust on his cheeks seem to increase when he locks eyes with you.

"At the bar, when I said you were my problem. I was in a rage, because Yoongi said some things. And," you pause, realizing you are rambling and that it's ridiculous for you to explain yourself like this, "and there's no excuse for it, yeah. I am sorry." You sigh as you end, not being able to look him in the eyes.

You expect him to say how hurt he felt, or maybe just brush it off with an off-handed comment.

What you don't expect him to do, is take your clammy hand in his and interlock his fingers with yours.

"Y/N. Look at me." He tugs you by your hand and you will yourself to look him in the face.

"What did you say just now about apologizing?"

"That we will sit down one day-"

"Yes, one day. And today's not the day. So stop apologizing for hurting me, when I wasn't even hurt."

You furrow your eyebrows.

"You weren’t hurt?"

He shakes his head with a laugh and raises his free hand to your face. Your breath hitches when he tucks a stray hair behind your ear. Oh my god, you could melt at the way his touch leaves a fire in its wake. His fingers linger on your neck, and he doesn't pull his hand away when he speaks.

"I know how snippy you can get when you are frustrated."

That makes you laugh.

"You know me, huh?" you ask slyly, as if this is the moment for you to be sly.

"Well, I know a lot about you."

"What are you, a stalker?" you gasp.

"Yeah," he dryly replies and you exhale a snort.

His hand still lingers at your nape. And you belatedly realize that the hair on your neck is standing, as if saluting him. His eyes dart between yours and your lips, and you wonder if he will lean down. But then the hand at your nape moves around your form, and he pulls you in by your shoulder.

You stiffen for half a second, but then easily lean into him, laying your head on his shoulder as his fingers dance across your arm lightly.

You can feel the warmth from him, and it makes you forget that you both are practically sitting out in the dead of winter, at night. You wonder if by some miracle you can stretch this moment to last forever, not wanting to leave his side, and the comforting peace of mind you get.

"So, how was the party?"

His question takes you off-guard.

"Umm, good?" you say confusingly. You understand he is just trying to break into a conversation, but really?

"Yeah. I am sorry for being a dick with the whole Yoongi thing before. I know you like him." He sighs and you sit up straight.

"Wait a minute. I don't like him," you say, because you really don't. Who is feeding him these lies? Mina, that fucker.

"Huh? You don't?"

"Honey, everyone and their mama knows how big of an asshole he is. I do not like him, okay." You laugh and you think you feel his shoulder sag with what you think is relief.

"I thought you were into assholes," he comments, slyly, and you decide to play along.

"Well, you are an asshole."

"Yeah, but are you into me?"

At that, you pause, and look up at him. He has an easy grin on his face, which says that he is also just playing along. You are not sure how honest you should be, but it's also high time now. You look back at the sky, and lay your head against his shoulder again as you drawl out a lazy-

"Yeah."

He suddenly sits up straight, and you stumble but catch yourself at the last moment.

"What?"

You look at him, holding back your smile.

"What?"

"You, you are into me?"

His eyes are wide like saucers and you think you see the faint citylights in them. It's beautiful how his lips form a confused pout, and his head nods at you.

"Yes." You laugh, and a smile breaks out on his face. His hands find yours and he holds them in a gentle grasp.

"Do you, do you really like me?"

"Yes, Jungkook."

"Oh my god, come here." He tugs at your hand and pulls you into him, again. You gladly rush into his arms and this time, lay your head on his chest, listening to his heart. You feel giddy, as if you are confessing to your first crush and he has just said that yes, he likes you too.

"I feel like I am the happiest man right now." You blush against his chest and he holds you tighter.

"So do I understand that you like me back too?"

"Of fucking course. If it wasn't obvious already, then." He laughs and you think you can melt in the sound, drowning yourself in the sweet honey ringing of his voice and the joy spilling from it. You know it was obvious – at least to some extent. Okay well, at least after someone pointed it out to you. And that gave you the confidence to open up to him. Or else you would have drowned in your thoughts instead of him.

His lips brush your hair and you sigh at the touch, closing your eyes at the tender feeling. You want the moment to stretch forever. The moon gracing you with its presence and the relief that you are finally beside him, in his arms, with nothing to bother you.

"I love you."

It is so sudden that you forget how to breathe, going still. His words are muffled by your hair, but you hear them nonetheless, when you can even hear him breathing. Somewhere, you knew this was coming. Because everyone, every sign, every feeling led you to believe it. And even though you are glad the intuition was right, you don't fucking know what to do now.

You take your head off his chest and look up at him. Just before you open your mouth to say anything, he rubs his hand on your arm, trying to calm you down. As if he felt the inner turmoil rising inside you.

"Shh. I know you're not there yet, and it's okay. Even if you'll never get there, I am content with how it is right now." He shouldn't be. After all this time, why is he still ready to give himself and his feelings up, for you?

"Jungkook-"

"I know. But, I couldn't stop myself from saying it. And I understand if you walk away."

"Shut up, I am not walking away," you tell him, rather firmly and you feel when his shoulders sag with relief, even though he doesn't let it show on his face. You snuggle into him once more, this time kissing his heart softly through the shirt.

"Why would you say something like that? Why would you say that you will be okay if I never get there?" you mumble and he rests his cheek on your hair.

"Because, being someone to you is better than being no one."

Oh, your heart. Your poor little heart. It can't take the pain, the longing that you can feel radiating from him. You feel like you could cry at his words, because how can you be so oblivious to his thoughts? You wish to tell him something, anything that can tell him that you are almost there too. That this time around, he won't be no one to you, he'll be everything to you.

"I, I am almost there too-"

"Love, I don't need to know if you are almost there or not. I need to know if you are here, here with me. Are you?" The name makes your heart do somersaults, but you compose yourself to give him a reply.

"Yes. Yes I am here with you."

"Well, then I don't want anything else." He laughs and you feel yourself calm down at the voice. It's just a matter of time, you think. You can't afford to hurt him anymore, and you know you won't. You are glad you are here with him. It's meaningless to fret over what will happen, rather than focusing on what's happening.

"I think we have someone to thank," he jokes and you roll your eyes.

"If it's Yoongi, then I'm not talking to him."

"Valid, but you know he helped."

That he did. If not for him, you would have been sulking in some corner, still at that party.

"We'll see what we do."

"Okay, boss. As you say." He laughs and you hit his chest.

"Shut up."

"Maybe you should tell him how you had a crush on him. Wouldn't it be hilarious?"

"Jungkook, I swear to god, if you don't shut up-"

And that's how you bicker into the night, with love and a lot of jokes. With a promise to be together, sealed by kissing in the moonlight.

taglist : @nuniah @jinsquishes @jeonkookiesworld @sailoryooons @jjkeverlast @aliimac @gimmethatagustd @namjoonwhoresworld @apotatomashedbybts @synnfulqt @saweetspoiled @chimchimmarie @sugababylove84 @axigailxo @yoongukie-ff @instabull @graycosco @wobblewobble822 @jungkooksseuphoria @kalea10 @yoongimarryme3

feedback, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated so please let me know your thoughts :)))

also, end notes : i am astronomically late for this one, three months late for christmas! but I'm finally here, after all the stuff going on with me hehe! maybe I'll write a drabble for these two later? where the reader also confesses her feelings? all domestic haha. let's see! but thankyou so much for reading it! any kind of feedback will be immensely appreciated :D

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