The Comforts Of Creatures (2)

the comforts of creatures (2)

creature comforts:

↳ material/bodily comforts, such as food, warmth, or special accommodations, that contribute to physical ease and well-being

→ pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

→ genre: fantasy!au, soulmate!au, angst with a happy ending, fluff, hurt + comfort + recovery, eventual smut

→ word count: 3k

→ summary: when you wake up in a strange place, met with softness and warmth instead of the pain you’re used to, a spiral of panic is almost inevitable. and the only ones around to pull you out of it are the seven strange men who brought you here.

→ trigger/content warnings: PTSD (including low self-worth/effects of dehumanization, sensory overload), memory loss, mentions/effects of physical/psychological abuse, panic attack, lotta hurt before the comfort :( the boys trying their best

→ a/n: please mind the warnings before reading!! thank you so much for the love and feedback on the first part I really appreciate it!! 💖

previous part ← series masterlist → next part

part 2: seven strangers

At first, there’s only soft warmth.

You’re surrounded by it, cradled in it like a kitten huddled close to the rest of the litter.

For as long as you can remember, warmth has been a stranger. You almost forgot what it felt like. But right now, it somehow feels familiar. Suddenly, warmth is an old friend. 

Downy and delightfully drunk with sleep, you breathe out a content sigh and snuggle deeper into whatever is making you feel this way.

It’s so warm here, and comfy too. It makes it easier to ignore the deep ache in your muscles, the pounding in—

A jolt of icy dread hits you. Why are you so warm? Why isn’t your body lying on hard stone? It doesn’t feel right, it’s not right you’re not supposed to feel like this.

Peeling your eyes open with considerable effort, light floods your senses, making you want to shrink back to where it’s dark, back to where you belong.

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust, but once they do, you find yourself in a very strange place. Now you see with horror what was keeping you so warm. 

The room you’re in is large, walls lined with curtained windows. The center of the room is dominated by a gigantic bed. It’s sunken into the ground, looking more like a huge fluffy pit piled high with blankets and pillows.

But the worst part is...you’re not alone.

Four other bodies are curled up against yours. One of them is pressed to your left side with an arm slung over your torso, head nestled into the crook of your neck. All you can see of him is his tan skin and few wisps of curly black hair.

The body at your right is a similar problem. They’re hugging you close with their legs intertwined with yours. A man’s body, lean yet padded with muscle.

When you look down, you see a head of silvery white hair cushioned on your stomach. And when you shift slightly, you realize that you’re using the person behind you as a pillow.

They’re all holding onto you like you might disappear.

Countless textures, the heat of their skin, the rub of their clothes, the tickling tips of their hair, it all swarms you with increasing pressure. A bombardment of scents fills your nose. Leather, cologne, a hint of tea leaves. Sweat, musk, and something heavy underneath.

It smells like the den of a hibernating animal. A scent that screams this is mine, don’t dare to touch it.

The intermingling smells seem to burn in your nostrils. Too many, so much all at once. There’s too much touching you. Too warm, too soft, too good.

And even though the curtains are drawn, the thin streams of fading sunlight that peek through bring moisture to your eyes.

All of this, on top of that same weighty feeling in your chest. It’s calmer than before, not so desperate and yearning. Still, it burns slow like the embers of a dull fire.

You wrench yourself free from the stifling embrace. Untangling your limbs, you squirm out from under them, half of you trying not to wake them and the other half desperate to escape from the suffocation.

You feel them stir. The man to your left tightens the grip of his arm, but you rip away like their touch burns. In a way, it does.

Stumbling over the mountain of pillows and stuffed animals, you distance yourself from the bed and the strangers in it as much as possible.

Something in your heart aches with the loss, but how can you miss something you don’t deserve?

Instinctively, your back hits the wall and slides along it until you find the nearest corner. Sinking down to the floor, you hug your knees to your chest and squeeze your eyes shut to block out the light.

Where are you?

The struggle to remember the events that brought you here hurts.

Memory has always been a slippery thing. It doesn’t come easy, especially when it’s always been less painful to forget. What memories do come are always fragmented, half-formed.

You can remember certain past emotions, an image here and there, maybe the shadow of a face. But never the events or places attached to them.

That is, all the memories before you were brought to the facility. Because everything that happened there...you remember vividly.

It’s all rushing back to you now. The dark, the cold, the damp. It was all you had to cling to. Why isn’t it here now?

You try again to remember how you got to this strange place, this place where there are light-bearing windows and soft, warm beds to sleep on.

Throbbing pain in your skull, tightness in your throat, but you push through it and reach into the corners of your mind.

Loud. Screaming, footsteps, gunshots. There was a creature, huge and powerful. And there was a man, beautiful but deathly.

They’d stumbled upon your room, but they didn’t hurt you. What were they doing there? And how did you end up here?

The rustle of sheets.

Your head whips up from between your knees, eyes popping open despite the too-bright light.

One of the men is shifting on the bed. It’s the one with the almost white hair. He rolls over with a sleepy groan, reaching out his arms like he’s searching for something.

When he doesn’t seem to find it, his head slowly rises from the mattress.

Don’t open your eyes, don’t open your eyes please.

But they do, just a crack. His head swivels, looking around the room.

Don’t look at me, don’t look at me, for the love of god—

He’s facing you now, shaking strands of pale hair off his face. His eyes are barely open, but you know he sees you.

You know it from the way the feeling in your chest pulses. Panic racing through your veins, breath quickening.

The man yawns and opens his arms in a welcoming gesture, something that puzzles you immensely.

“Come back to bed, babe.”

His voice is bright and sweet, but it still sends a wave of alarm through your body.

It’s a trap, your brain drills over and over. You know you’re not allowed on a bed. He must know it too, he has to. Because you’re dirty and disgusting and wrong. Beds are meant for people, for humans.

“Baby?”

You look up to find the man watching you with a strange expression. It’s concern, but you don’t recognize what that looks like.

You tear your eyes away from his, flinching with the realization that you just accidentally made eye contact. Damnit, no no no.

Curling in on yourself further, you wait for the consequences. A slap, a fist to the nose, a hand tight around your throat. Anything that hurts.

But it doesn’t come. Several beats of silence pass, your breathing picking up by the second.

You don’t dare look up again, that always makes it worse.

The man calls out a name. Then again, again, each time increasingly desperate.

The thing in the pit of your heart burns, pulsing painfully every time he says that name.

Why does he keep saying it? You don’t like it, it makes your chest ache.

Too hyper focused on all the overlapping sensations, you don’t notice the man approaching you, panic across his face.

Dropping to his knees, his eyes search your distraught face, ducking his head to try to catch your gaze.

“_____? What’s wrong? Please, tell me what’s wrong, babe,” he says, hands creeping up your arms, giving your shoulders a squeeze to try to ground you.

Immediately, you recoil away from his touch.

It’s too much. The light, the smells, the contact, the pressure inside your rib cage. All you want to do it disappear, shrivel up until you’re even more nothing than you already are.

More voices, different yet all alarmed, sounding faraway and muted in your ears. Your eyes must be closed again, because all you see is soothing darkness.

There are more hands touching you. The muffled voices are getting louder, more piercing.

It all makes your head throb. You wish it would stop, just make it stop please make it fucking stop!

Lungs feeling close to bursting, your ears suddenly perk up at the only string of words your stupid brain can process: a command.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes open, almost involuntarily.

Wide, warm eyes, high cheekbones, dark waves falling over bright skin. A man’s face hovering over you, his expression pinched with distress. Still, when your gaze meets his, a weak yet radiant smile blooms across his face.

“Good, good,” he says softly.

Momentary relief. You release a tight breath, focusing all your senses on the face in front of you, on the voice giving you delicious praise.

But then three more faces crowd your vision. They’re all looking at you so intensely, eyes wide and jaws clenched.

Panic like fireworks. Why are they all looking at you? What did you do?

The realization comes, a stab to the gut. Only one of them allowed you to look at him. And you just made eye contact with all of them.

No no no...It’s coming any second now. The pain.

They’re going to punish you for it, they’re going to hold you down and hurt you until you’re thrashing and screaming.

They know you were on the bed, they have to. They’re going to beat you bloody for it.

You can already taste the iron in your mouth. A violent swell of nausea ripples through your stomach. Can’t breathe, you can’t breathe.

They’re going to hurt you. The pain is coming again, there won’t be anything else.

Your heartbeat is thunder as you frantically scan the room.

The door isn’t far away, and it’s open.

A voice that isn’t your own says one thing in your head:

Run.

It’s been a long time since Jimin felt this content. He’s warm, he’s safe, he’s fed, and he’s got your heartbeat against his ear.

They’d made it home relatively unscathed, Jin still carrying you bridal style.

He’d refused to let go of you since you collapsed in his arms. Even when they were safely inside their own wards, even crossing the threshold of the house, he held you close to his chest and waved the maknaes off with a “go clean up” or “go eat something before you pass out.”

He finally surrendered you over to Namjoon to go fry up some meat while the rest of them washed up in the mudroom, knowing they’d be ravenous by the time they finished.

Namjoon managed to bandage your cuts and wipe your face with a wet cloth before Taehyung found him, trailing water droplets behind him, and dragged you into the den where he promptly fell asleep in a pile with the rest of the shifters.

Jin and Namjoon watched them fondly from the doorway, all of them utterly exhausted from the raid and from changing in and out of their full forms.

You were cradled in between Hoseok’s legs, Jungkook pressed to your right, Taehyung to your left, with Jimin resting his head on your stomach.

Namjoon put a hand on Jin’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. The gesture says you did good, we’re whole again.

When Jimin wakes up, he can feel the anxiety trembling in the air. The fine, sensitive hairs all over his body twitch with it.

He reaches for you, but you’re not there.

Opening his eyes, he finds you pressed into the corner, shaking.

He’ll never forget the way you looked at him. You’ve never looked so scared, never so much like a cornered animal.

But it’s not until he calls your name and you look at him with no recognition in your eyes that he knows something is very, very wrong.

You flinch away from his touch, sending a pang of hurt through his heart, covering your ears and burying your head between your legs.

Jungkook jolts awake, probably triggered by the stench of your fear. He’s by your side in an instant, quietly whimpering as he presses his nose to what’s left of your hair.

Taehyung and Hoseok follow soon after.

They all try to comfort you with soft touches and calming words, muttering “you’re safe now” and “nothing can hurt you” over and over.

But it’s like you don’t hear them. Or don’t believe it.

You can’t even look at them until Hoseok orders you to. He remembers that Jimin likes following simple orders when he’s overwhelmed, and when it works on you a spark of joy lights in his face.

Something similar lights in your eyes too, but the next second it’s gone. Replaced by more panic, your gaze darts around the room wildly.

Jimin’s teeth clench as he anticipates what’s coming next. He knows the signs of someone about to bolt.

He’s proven right seconds later when you lunge for the door, roughly pushing past them.

They’re all shocked still for a moment. Why would you run from them? They’re supposed to be your safe place, your comfort people. They finally got you back. Shouldn’t you be happy? Why would you run from your own mates?

Jungkook takes off after you, tearfully calling your name. Then Hoseok takes off after Jungkook, worried that he might scare you even more in his emotional state.

Taehyung and Jimin just sit there, deflated. When their eyes meet, they’re both thinking the same thing: helping you feel safe again is going to be a lot harder than they thought.

You can be pretty fast when you want to be, especially when you’re frightened, so you make it all the way down the stairs and into the living room before Jungkook gets to you.

He grabs your shoulders, trying to be as non-threatening as he can, anchoring you to the floor as he tries to meet your eyes.

Twitching violently and nearly hyperventilating, your breath catches when he finally manages to catch your gaze. Only to rip it away again as a strangled noise escapes your throat.

That rare sound that only leaves Jungkook when he’s distressed fills the air. Somewhere between a high-pitched trill and a harsh cry, it seems to echo all throughout the house.

It alerts the remaining hyungs, making their ears perk and their lungs hitch.

They fell that burning in their chest, a sign that one of their mates is in pain. And from the way it singes through their veins, they know that it’s not one of their mates, but several of them.

When Jungkook calls out your name, you break out of his grip and take a few unsteady steps backward, searching for the nearest exit.

By that time, the shifters have made their way into the living room, along with Jin and Namjoon. They all crowd around you, muscles tensing when they feel the air vibrate with your panic.

Whipping around, you realize that you’re surrounded and utterly outnumbered.

They watch as you crumble in on yourself, sinking to the ground again in an effort to shield yourself from an oncoming attack.

A string of jumbled syllables falls from your lips. They have to get closer to realize what you’re saying.

“Please...please,” you mutter. “Please don’t hurt me.”

It breaks their hearts.

Every time one of them touches you, you jerk back and let loose another stream of frenzied pleas.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t run again. Just don’t hurt me, please. I’ll be good I promise just please don’t, don’t...”

Jungkook and Taehyung grasp your shoulders with tears in their eyes, Jimin running a soothing hand up and down your back.

“It’s okay, baby. Really, it’s okay. No one’s going to hurt you. Calm down for me, okay?” Taehyung says softly.

Your breathing slows just a little, maybe from hearing him say that he doesn’t plan on hurting you. Hesitantly, you look up at your surroundings, and the next second you’re thrown into another fit of shaking and begging.

“No no no, please...please,” you blurt out, voice trailing off at the end.

Too many touches, voices, scents. It all swirls in your brain and makes your heart and head thud rapidly. When will it stop, when will it just stop.

“Enough.”

Everyone freezes at the calm yet firm voice.

The boys turn towards it while you burrow further into yourself, waiting for a hit or command or insult, whichever comes first.

Yoongi stands at the other end of the room. His head and shoulders are drooped with exhaustion, no doubt still weak after breaking through the layers of wards single-handed.

His eyes are zeroed in on only you, brows furrowed and fists clenched. This is the first time he’s seen you in months. The cuts and old wounds, the scars, your mangled hair, the way your body is shriveled with malnourishment. It all makes his skin crawl with quiet rage.

Yoongi takes step after slow step towards you, and something about his commanding presence keeps you still.

The rest of them step aside to let him pass, holding their breath in anticipation of his next words. He’s always been the most patient, the most level-headed when one of them is having a panic attack.

He drops down to one knee, tilting your chin up with one gentle finger.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” he says, masterfully controlling his fury at seeing the state of you so none of it is directed towards you.

Still shaking, you meet his even stare. His own dark eyes soften, darting over the damage visible on your face.

“Tell me,” he begins in that same composed tone. “Who did this to you?”

a/n: thanks so much for reading!! what are your first impressions of the boys? please consider commenting your thoughts if you enjoyed! :)

taglist: @jeepersjiminie​ @scuzmunkie​ @anchovyinajar​ @btsiguess-kpop @btspurplesky​ @emu007​ @goldeneclipsedragon @serendididy​ @namjoons-bug @angryperfectionpersona​ @wittyreader​ @ariavaana​ @crazy-person​ @kyrah-williams​ @leehaechanlee​ @jinkajous​ @dolliecat​ @reallysparklychaos @xmochiloverx​ @queen-in-the-shadows​ @astrids-pandora @kapten-xouk​ @anonynim​ @massiekurrb​ @tito-the-mermaid​ 

overview:

this is now one of my all-time favorite works! it’s amazing what gia does with just a few thousand words, from the masterful worldbuilding and overall storytelling to the smooth yet razor-sharp dialogue and descriptions. this piece drips with style and creativity, and my average vocabulary can’t quite convey how much I loved reading this. thank you @fantasybangtan for sharing this absolutely stunning story with us 💖

spoiler review and reactions under the cut:

I could tell from just the first PARAGRAPH that this was going to be fantastic. the beginning really grabbed me and made me excited to read more!

“before either of your guards can react, you are on your feet and pulling Aeryn’s sword from her sheath. you press the point against man’s throat to angle his chin up.” I sat up in my seat and said “OOOH” out loud when I read this line. this story really grabbed me by the throat just a few paragraphs in.

I love the way the dialogue is written. it’s so sharply crafted, every line just punched me in the gut.

jungkook’s physical description is lovely. I can clearly visualize the look/vibe you were going for.

“it seems you have escaped the claws only to find yourself right in the mouth of the beast.” I love this line. that is all 😄

the worldbuilding. THE. WORLDBUILDING. sign me the fuck up for this estrogen fest I love matriarchal societies in fantasy fiction.

“you wonder if the young man harbours any fear in his heart now that he has been pitted against them first-hand. He wouldn’t be wrong to.” OOOOOH another great line.

I love jungkook’s duality in this, his little spark of fire while in this submissive position is just *chefs kiss*

man, this dialogue just flows. yet bites at the same time I really can’t praise it enough.

“you take him in - scarlet mouth and dark, heavy brows, muscles twitching from the exertion of being tied up for too long at an awkward angle. a resilient little thing, he is. dripping all over with grime and exhaustion, yet still poised to fight the moment you cut him free. a wild lynx, baring his teeth at the barrel of a gun.” I just...I just can’t with these beautiful descriptive picture-painting paragraphs and the fucking clever one liners UGH.

the characters are all so alive. I love the interaction and dynamic between jungkook and the mc.

“your lips spread into a sharklike grin. “Now I know you are trying to woo me.” jungkook smirks. A small, self-satisfied thing as if to say ‘guilty as charged.’” SPICY I LOVE IT AHHHHH.

“jungkook’s wrists flex in their ropes. “I could please you. with my mouth.” my stomach literally did a little flip THE POWER GIA HAS.

every. single. line. is. a. punch. to. my. gut I CAN’T BREATHE.

the smut is so fucking hot yet smooth at the same time, just masterfully written *applause*

“an awfully self-assured move for someone who’s cock is still standing pathetically untouched.” SKJDHFKLJHFLKJSBDF

“where neha’s expression is carefully impassive, aeryn sports a knowing grin. true to form, jungkook shows little bashfulness for his state.” okay I love this little detail. I also find it hilarious how her guards are just chill with the fact that their queen just dicked around with a prisoner in the goddamn throne room 😂 they’re just like “yep, just another tuesday.”

“he will reside here in the palace, under careful watch. you shall retrain him in the ways of the eiskrieger. teach him to fight with as much brain as he has brawn. as for his ink -” you reach for the sword once again, flipping it expertly in your hand before lowering it to hover over jungkook’s breastbone. “cover it over. I want to see the emblem of my court on his heart.” yes queen fuckin get it I love this mc so much.

“when you move your fingers down to press two digits against his lower lip, jungkook opens his mouth to grant you entry without a second thought, his expression cocky.” AJKKADKJD LET ME BREATHE FOR ONE SECOND.

“in fact,” you murmur, your thumb swiping away the saliva that collects in the corner of his lips. “why don’t you bring some more ropes down here, neha? I would like to see how his allegiance tests out when I have him frog-tied across my dining table tonight.” me, banging pots and pans together: SEQUEL SEQUEL SEQUEL. what a way to end it whew!

in conclusion, this fic beat me up and left me curled up in an alley 🙃 and is also now one of my all-time favorite works.

gia, you are one very talented mad genius 💖

Wintervale (jjk)

♛ pairing: jungkook x reader

♛ genre: smut, fantasy.

♛ warnings/tags: 18+, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, degradation, bondage, sub!jungkook.

♛ word count: 4k

♛ summary: jungkook proves his allegiance to the throne of your kingdom.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“And what do we have here? A spy?” 

You squint down at the captive on his knees before you, taking in his snow-damp clothing and dishevelled appearance. He is not of these parts, that is for certain. Has far to much bite to be one of your men. You observe passively when he bares his teeth at you, dark locks falling over his eyes as he struggles against his bonds like a wolf in a snare. It is no use, of course. Your warriors tie knots like no others - his hands will only be released at your command. 

Keep reading

We need to embrace the fact that the tumblr userbase is aging. What’s everybody’s favorite kitchen appliance?

Hellooooo! I just finished reading the first chap of o' heartless woman and I loved your prose!!! This is my first time reading your work. Are you still active, tho? :c I saw you published it quite long ago and I would like to know if you will continue it some day (no pressure, just to know). Anyways, I hope that's the case because you have so much talent!!! I really want to keep reading what you write <3

oh my goodness this is so sweet!! thank you so much for the kind words!! yes I'm still active and i plan on posting more of o' heartless woman eventually :) I don't have a set writing/posting schedule cause my life gets pretty hectic like anyone else so I simply update when I have the time and motivation. it makes me so happy to hear that you enjoy my style of writing and are willing to read more of my stuff!! I hope you enjoy future works my love thank you for sending this in 💖

the comforts of creatures (1)

creature comforts:

↳ material/bodily comforts, such as food, warmth, or special accommodations, that contribute to physical ease and well-being

→ pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

→ genre: fantasy!au, soulmate!au, angst with a happy ending, fluff, hurt + comfort + recovery, eventual smut

→ word count: 2.1k

→ summary: you’re a prisoner here, but you can’t remember why. you can’t remember much of anything. not where you came from, not who you are, not even what you are. what happens when a pack of terrifying monsters breaks into the facility where you’re being held. not to kill you, but to...protect you?

→ content warnings: captivity (including forced sensory deprivation, effects of dehumanization), soul bond, violence, low self-worth, memory loss, protective!jin & jungkook

→ a/n: a completely self-indulgent hurt + comfort story that I wrote (and will most likely continue to write) in a frenzy because I wanted to read it :) if you’re excited to read more of this series please reblog and share your thoughts!!

series masterlist → next part

part 1: the rescue

Something seizes inside your chest. That’s the only word your sluggish brain can muster to describe it: something, foreign yet familiar at the same time.

After so many days—days? hours? weeks?—of feeling nothing but drowned sensations, it feels like a sledgehammer to the gut.

The sheer force of it wrenches a choked gasp from your lips, and it’s the loudest sound you’ve heard in a long while. One hand reaches up to clutch at your heart, the other gripping your forehead where a violent throbbing pounds at your skull.

The intensity makes you scramble along the stone floor until your back hits the wall, the only other thing in the room that can be used to ground you.

This...thing, it grips you harder than the cold, tighter than the hunger in the pit of your stomach.

Stinging tears brim in your eyes. Even though you’re alone in the room, something else, a deep something, tells you to choke them back before someone sees. Before the pain that always follows when you let them fall past your lids.

The thing feels like hope, desperate and burning white-hot. It feels like warmth and a sigh of relief.

It feels like something he would punish you for. Because things like you aren’t meant to feel things this good.

What sounds like an explosion reverberates through the thick concrete walls. The floor trembles. You can hear people screaming, guards shouting orders over the pound of footsteps.

The sensation in your chest continues to build, unbearably so, until the tendons in your lungs feel close to tearing.

The sound of shouting and fast footfalls begins to fade, moments later replaced by ones much louder, heavier, faster.

Gunshots in the distance, one after the other. Then a deafening roar. A nonhuman roar.

It’s all so loud. The noise presses against you from all angles, closing in until you can almost feel its weight.

You cup your hands around your ears, squeeze your eyes shut, curl into a pathetic ball but it still thuds in your head. Sharp and bruising and loud loud loud.

Not that you realize it, but you’ve been without light and sound for six days.

Your brain is slow to process what’s happening, struggling to make sense of the impossible.

Because he always said that no one knew they were there, that the wards were impenetrable. Even if someone got through the wards, who would be stupid enough to attack them at their own home base?

No one is coming for you, his voice slices through your thoughts. Why would anyone ever come looking for you? You are nothing.

The heavy footsteps draw closer, along with the sound of doors banging open.

You curl further into yourself, trying to block it all out. One of those disgusting creatures from the outside must have gotten in. It’s in their nature to seek blood and destruction, after all.

Maybe you’ll be lucky enough for a quick death. But...you’re not sure you deserve it.

You are nothing.

With a horrible creak of bending metal, the door is ripped off its hinges.

The sudden flood of light makes you flinch back and shield your face. The feeling in your chest thuds against your rib cage, like your heart is trying to escape your body.

You don’t move, can’t move. Not until a deep growl puts the fear of god in your bones.

It makes you peek through your fingers just enough to see what has caused the sudden flood of light.

The shape in the doorway is anything but human. Massive and powerful, it’s too big to be fully visible through the doorway. All you can see is four muscle-corded legs that end in clawed feet, trailing red behind them. The thing’s fur is matted with something dark and wet.

The creature bends down to peer into the room, exposing a skeletal head and sharp, dripping antlers.

You meet it’s black eyes, and something akin to recognition glints in the glassy surface. Your heart thuds almost painfully.

The creature tips it’s head back and howls, flashing several rows of wolf-like teeth.

It’s much too big to fit through the door, but it rams it’s head into it anyway. Distressed whimpers fall from it’s mouth as it bucks and charges at the wall. It dents the metal, desperate in it’s attempt to get to you.

Frozen. All you can do is shrink further into the corner of the room, closing your eyes and awaiting the inevitable. Hoping it’s quick, hoping that whatever happens afterwards is better than staying here.

The metal groans, beginning to warp and buckle under the force of the creature’s antlers as it slams into it harder and harder.

A beat of silence.

You open your eyes to find the creature stepping back as much as the hallway allows. It stomps it’s feet, flexing it’s hind legs.

Huffing out a grunt, it lunges forward to charge with all it’s might.

The metal finally gives out, tearing in jagged shards so the doorway is now a giant hole.

Your stomach drops as the creature lunges straight for you, too terrified to even close your eyes for the end of it all.

But the creature doesn’t rip you to shreds with it’s teeth, or maim you with it’s claws, or impale you with it’s antlers.

It nuzzles into the crook of your shoulder, a soft whine leaving it’s panting mouth. You feel it’s wet nose nudging you all over, sniffing like it’s searching for something.

Wet against your cheek. You realize that the thing is licking your face like a dog that’s been reunited with it’s owner.

Frozen, still. You can’t make your limbs move an inch, icy fear still stiff in your veins.

The creature retreats from poking and prodding you, still panting and mewling like an excited puppy. It hops a little on it’s strong legs, nodding it’s head at you expectantly.

You...have no idea what’s going on.

You should be dead by now. The beasts from the outside are supposed to kill anything and everything that crosses their path. They’re not supposed to yip playfully and nestle their huge forehead against yours.

The creature perks it’s great head like it senses something.

You assume that it must’ve realized that you’re prey, an enemy. Pinching your eyes shut, again, you wait for the end. Hopefully it’s a merciful one.

A moment later, you feel cold hands cradling your face.

Your eyes pop open.

You can’t decide if the man leaning over you is a corpse or a god. At the same time, wondering how beauty and death can exist in the same face.

A god, from the way his brown hair is pushed back from his forehead, the way his eyes are slanted so prettily. A god because he’s tall and demands respect with his presence, those broad shoulders and sharp jawline.

A corpse, from the was his full mouth drips with blood, running down his chin and neck. Two sets of yellowed fangs peek over the plush flesh of his lips. Dark purple veins peek through his almost translucent skin, showing the shadow of his skeleton underneath.

You feel his thumbs stroking your cheeks. Tears pool in his red, bloodshot eyes.

“Oh baby,” he says sadly, looking down at your flimsy clothing, at the fresh wounds covering your body.

It makes something burn in your heart, something like pain and healing at the same time.

The corpse-like man draws you closer, hugging you to his chest as he whispers out soft hushes and sweet nothings that sound like cotton in your dull ears.

And the more he touches you, the more the feeling flares. It’s close to unbearable, stealing away your breath, vision swimming.

The other creature shifts to the ground, curling around you in a way that’s almost...protective?

A name you don’t recognize falls from the man’s mouth, and just like that, your consciousness winks out like a flickering candle flame.

They found you. Months of desperate searching, following any and every lead, no matter how small or fleeting. Days at a time without sleeping, without eating. 

Weeks of Yoongi locking himself in his room, tearing apart his grimoires, carving runes into his skin, trying every locator spell he knew to get even a whiff of your location.

After months of feeling empty, feeling like a piece of them was dead, they finally found you.

Once Yoongi broke through the wards, storming the facility wasn’t difficult. They may have technology, firearms and sheer numbers, but they don’t have primal fury.

Because their person, their final piece, was stolen from them.

As soon as they crossed the threshold, they felt it. A sudden pain in their chest, sharp and heart-wrenching.

She’s here, and she’s hurt.

They tore through the place in a feral rage, cutting down anyone that tried to obscure their path, because they did this. They’re the ones that kept you from them.

Jungkook plowed through the outer gates, the inner gates, the front doors. No one tried to hold him back as he sprinted through the storm of bullets.

Namjoon’s smoke shielded him, not that he needed it. The frenzy of finally being close to his mate after all this time would’ve made a few bullets feel like pinpricks.

He must’ve caught your scent, because the next moment he’s rearing his head back and roaring like he’s just been struck by an arrow.

Hoseok, Jimin, and Taehyung all hear it, shifted into their full forms throughout the facility.

The human part of them, the animal part of them, aches with the urge to seek you out themselves. But they have to take care of the ones who did this to you, because they’ll do it again if given the chance.

Jungkook will find you, he has the best nose out of all of them.

Bounding through the halls with renewed urgency, all that fills Jungkook’s head is she’s close she’s close where is she oh god where is she?

He can smell you, or he can smell your panic, and all he can think is don’t worry, I’m coming. Just hold on a little longer.

He comes to a hallway that reeks of pain and sorrow. It’s lined with bolted doors all the way down, each filled with prisoners that stink with lingering wounds.

Tearing the doors away one by one, peering into each room, he doesn’t stop until he reaches the end of the hall.

When he looks into this room, he sees a lone figure huddled in the darkness. A wave of fear floods his nose, then the stench of infection.

He howls. A bitter, provoked howl. The sound of a creature who’s mate is in danger.

Adrenaline pumps through his veins, fur bristling as he rears and charges at the doorway with all his might.

It takes several tries, but eventually he breaks through.

He doesn’t understand why wave after wave of fear is radiating off of you. He expected you to be relieved, to jump into his arms the second you saw him.

You’ve been their mate for years. Why are you shying away like you’re afraid of him? 

When he finally breaks through the walls, you shrink so far into yourself that it looks like you might disappear.

Jungkook crowds you, sniffing you all over, searching for injuries.

He finds too many. Before he can let out another pained howl, he catches a whiff of another one of his mates.

Jin crashes into the room, looking furious and determined.

The same pleasant pain surges in the taller man’s own chest, stronger than it’s burned in months. The bite mark on his left wrist burns with it.

Jin drops to his knees in front of you, breathing in your scent for the first time in months.

Filth is smeared all over your skin. Your hair is shorter, much shorter. It looks as if it’s been cut with a blunt knife.

He too smells the infection. And the blood, of course he smells the blood.

“Oh baby,” he breathes out. “I’m so sorry. We came as soon as Yoongi found you.”

You’re staring up at him with wide, terrified eyes. And it looks like there’s nothing behind them. No relief, no recognition. Just confusion and panic.

“Baby?” Jin whispers, giving your shoulders and gentle shake, but you look as if you didn’t even hear it.

What the fuck did they do to you?

He hugs you close, your body feeling cold and weak in his hold.

He mumbles out apology after apology. I’m so sorry it took so long. I’m so sorry for what they did to you. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to stop them. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.

Something flutters in his lungs. When he looks down, he sees you take a sharp inhale.

He hangs onto that breath, waiting for you to say something, do something, anything other than sitting there shivering like you’re too scared to even flinch.

He calls your name, and you collapse in his arms.

next part →

a/n: thanks for reading!! thoughts??

taglist: @btsiguess-kpop​

overview:

I’m blown away by the sheer number of times this made my heart clench, and in just one thousand words!! this little story is dripping in sweetness and was such a fun read! @yoonseoksoftie really knows how to make me coo out loud with her writing 😂 I love love love yoongi’s characterization as well, truly heart-melting. also the lack of notes/interaction on this fic is appalling and I had to remedy that okay thank you

spoiler review and reactions under the cut:

“you know you don’t have to do anything, right?” IF THIS AIN’T ME 😂 this immediately grabbed me, I’m ready for all the fluffy sweetness 😈

“what do you mean?” he exclaims, sarcasm filtering through his feigned confusion. “you mean to tell me that I don’t actually have to celebrate my lovely girlfriend on the first day of august just because the world deems it so? you mean it’s not mandatory?” your laughter rings through the speaker and yoongi grins to himself triumphantly. the sound of your laughter, especially when he’s the cause of it, is always a victory.” okay I love this. this characterization of yoongi is spot on. I feel like he’d be the type of lover to lay it on thick with the sarcasm and faux lovey-dovey mushiness, but secretly love the reaction he gets from his partner. this is such a sweet detail in this story that I enjoyed immensely 😚

“you don’t have to do anything. we can just chill like we do every other day, no need to go crazy. you know I love you regardless.” his fingers falter over the pastel pink cardboard box containing your favorite pastries, your words making yoongi’s stomach feel like there’s a million butterflies fluttering around inside of it.” AHHHH SO SWEET 😭 I love it

“he loves watching the way your eyes fill up with warmth when he shows up with your favorite coffee after you mention having to stay up all night to finish a last minute assignment for one of your hard-ass professors. he also enjoys the way you fill his face with kisses when you arrive home from school and your favorite dinner is waiting for you in the microwave.” I love this so much because it clearly shows the different ways to display love and how yoongi favors acts of service. another reason I love this characterization! 💖

“he’s not blind to the way you check up on him every couple of hours when he’s stuck all day working on music under the pretense of wanting to be an annoying girlfriend or how you go out of your way to make sure he feels comfortable when he’s out in public.” AWWW 😢 how to care for your yoongi 101. I love this couple’s dynamic.

“never,” he’s quick to reply, you would never lose him. no way you were ever going to get rid of him.” OW. OUCH. THIS HIT ME IN THE CHEST.

“a small pang of insecurity slithers into his brain when he looks down at his posy of red roses. he tries to extinguish his self-conscious filled thoughts raining down on his spirits. he’s fully aware that he can afford to buy something twice as big if he wanted to but he chose not to because material objects will never be able to successfully convey his love for you.” DIRECT HIT. I DIDN’T GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO COME STRAIGHT FOR MY NECK LIKE THAT. it’s amazing what this short little fic did to my heart.

“but here he is, flowers, sweets, and jewelry in hand on his way to see his girl. he tongues the inside of his cheek, a smile threatening to lift corners of his lips. he still can’t believe he can proudly say that. his girl.” you know, while reading this fic I kept thinking to myself “it can’t possibly get any sweeter” AND THEN THE NEXT LINE SUCKER PUNCHES ME AGAIN LIKE WTF. this yoongi is just so yoongi it gets me every time 😭

in conclusion, this is such a lovely, enjoyable, sugary sweet little story that I love so much! thank you @yoonseoksoftie for sharing this with us! 💖

@yoonseoksoftie please interact if you see this so I know it didn’t get lost in your notifs!

love and appreciation. | myg

一 pairing: min yoongi x fem. reader  一 word count: 1.1k 一 genre/au: idol verse | established relationship | fluff 一 warnings: none 一 rating: g 一 summary: ❝ it’s national girlfriend day and as much as he hates falling under the trap of money motivated holidays, he loves you quite a lot.❞ 一 based on the prompt: “I can’t wait to see you.” 一 a/n: this is the first drabble or story in my “different ways to say, i love you” series, so i hope that you guys enjoy it! i’m still trying to regain my balance as a writer so please let me know what you guys think (good or bad!!).

“You know you don’t have to do anything, right?”

The velvet sound of your voice through the receiver shields Yoongi against the grabble of the busy Seoul streets. The sound of people rushing to get home, cars honking at one another, and parents yelling at their children all follow Yoongi as he enters your favorite hybrid antique-coffee shop.

“What do you mean?” He exclaims, sarcasm filtering through his feigned confusion. “You mean to tell me that I don’t actually have to celebrate my lovely girlfriend on the first day of August just because the world deems it so? You mean it’s not mandatory?”

Your laughter rings through the speaker and Yoongi grins to himself triumphantly. The sound of your laughter, especially when he’s the cause of it, is always a victory. He greets the older lady at the counter briefly and makes his way towards the pick-up designated area of the small shop.

“Like I said, smartass,” you echo playfully. “You don’t have to do anything. We can just chill like we do every other day, no need to go crazy. You know I love you regardless.”

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