Bts X Female Reader - Tumblr Posts

안녕하세요, 여러분!

[Translation]: Hello, everyone! 

Hah, this makes me shy lol. Please bare with me. 

Anyways, welcome to the blog!

Recently, I’ve been overcome with this gut feeling that I should finally launch this blog. I’ve been writing for years now, but I’ve always been so shy with social media, expressing personal self, and showcasing writings. So, I never really had the courage to post. 

But, as apart of my new years resolution, I will let it all go and express myself like how I wanted to within the last few years. I am excited, nervous, and slightly razzled by the fact that I’m really going through with this. But I am ready. 

A little about what I intend to post:

This will primarily be a BTS blog. Though I love every member, the majority of my writings are y/n scenarios with Namjoon, Yoongi, or Jungkook. I have writings for everyone; however, i tend to feel more confident with my writings with the prior three boys.

I do write 18+ scenarios, so adults only!! My writings will also always be female x male, not because I am against pairings with other genders, but because that is what I am most used to writing and am more familiar with. Still, if you identify as any other, you are always welcome to read. I intend to keep this space as a strict respectful zone to all people.

Another disclaimer: I do not own BTS or anyone else I choose to incorporate in my writings. I write with them in interest as apart of a fictional story — as a face and personality that is unique to them (in real life and in a story) — but never to disrespect, alter, or manipulate to fit my or others standards. Their respect comes with the respect of anyone else.

Now for formatting, here is how I will organize my writings in post:

Title

[picture heading]

Summary: [2-4 sentences]

Theme/Tags: [EX: Highschool!AU, Non-Idol!AU, Yoongi x best friend’s sister!AU, etc.]

Rating/Disclaimer: [18+/A/Smut/S/Mature/M , Fluff/F, Angst, Romance, etc…]

Word Count: [x,xxx words]

Author’s Note: [me blabbling]

A little about me:

Hi!

You can call me Sae, if you’d like.

I am a double-major, third-year university student! I do take Korean there! It has been just about a year and a half since I started learning it, and I love it to the core. It is really such a beautiful language and culture, and I am so glad I went through with taking it. I could talk about it for hours! 

As for BTS, I have been a fan since I was in 8th grade…so 2015-2016? My first ever bias was Taehyung…ofc lol. However, I have been a Yoongi bias since around 2017-ish. Bias wrecker? I bet you can’t guess…Namjoon and Jungkook. Unfortunately or fortunately (however you view it), BTS was the only group I was able to fully get into and know. I love and listen to other groups like TXT, EXO, ATEEZ, Red Velvet, TWICE, etc. But I never got fully into them to the extent I did BTS.

As for other fics or posts you might see around here, I am a hard-core weeb. So, you might see some anime character’s on here. However, with a recent off-the-bandwagon mishap since entering uni, it has been quite a while since I have even watched a show. I intend to get back into it. We will see where life takes me. 

So, yeah! I hope you like what I end up posting! Feedback is always appreciated. If you have any questions, feel free to reach out! 

Again, I do not tolerate hate, disrespect, or anything malicious on my blog. If I suspect or if it is outwardly posted that someone intends on coming after me or anyone else on this blog, you will be reported, blocked, and otherwise removed from my page. Please remember human decency and practice being kind to others!!

Other than that, happy holidays and happy new year! 휴일 잘 즐기고 새해 복 많이 받으세요!

Jungkookstatts Matsterlist

[Last Updated]: February 7, 2024

[Codes]: [☀]: fluff, [⛆]: angst, [❤]: smut, [♔]: drabble 

[Disclaimer]: What is currently on this list is all that I have written so far. More is to come <3. The list is organized in order from oldest to newest.

Jeon Jungkook [전정국] 

“You’re Sick, Baby,”  [☀]

Massage Envy [☀] [❤] 

University Superstar [☀] [⛆] [❤]

       - JEON 07  [☀] [❤]

       - Drabble 1 [☀] [♔]

       - Drabble 2 [☀] [❤] [♔]

       - Drabble 3 [☀] [♔]

When She Loved Me [⛆] [❤]

Not in the Way You Think [☀] [⛆] [❤]

What We Need [☀] [❤]

Drabble 1 [☀]

Drabble 2 [☀] [❤]

All Over Again [☀] [❤]

Cherry Flavored [☀] [❤]

Kim Namjoon [김남준] 

Eight Years [☀] [❤]

Drabble 1 [☀] [♔]

Kim Taehyung [김태형] 

As Thunder Rolls [☀] [⛆] [❤]

About Me + Asks 

안녕하세요, 여려분 [Formal ‘about me’ post]

Ask's are under #jungkookstattsask

masterlist

key🗝

genre: fluff 🍞 angst 🌧 smut 🔥 hurt + comfort 🍰 slowburn 🐌

status: in progress ✍️ completed ✔️ coming soon 🔒

rating: mature (18+) 🔞 teen 🍯

extras: playlist 🎧 pinterest 📌 drabbles 📔

ot7 + poly

series 📚

the comforts of creatures ✍️🔞🌧🍞🍰🐌🔥

→ ot7 x fem.reader, fantasy!au, soulmate!au. current word count: 21k

the rescue 

seven strangers 

when you forget me 

who are you?

scars and soothers

the first breakfast 

o’ heartless woman ✍️🍯🍞🌧🐌

→ ot7 x fem.mc. howl’s moving castle AU, angst, fluff, future smut, sorceress!reader, cursed!yoongi, apprentice!jungkook, fire demon!hoseok, wizard of the waste!jimin, cursed!jin, half-goblin!taehyung, human!namjoon. current word count: 5.3k

in which yoongi seeks his fortune 

park jimin

stranger than fiction ✍️🔞🌧🍞🐌🔥

→ assistant!jimin x novelist!reader, enemies to lovers. current word count: 3k

satan smoking a cigarette

to be continued...

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: supernatural!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

Keep reading

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​ 

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: supernatural!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

Keep reading

the comforts of creatures (3)

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: 4.7k

→ summary: after you wake up in a strange place with strange men, you begin to experience kindness for the first time in months, as the boys begin to realize that you aren’t the person that they used to know.

→ trigger/content warnings: effects of isolation, sensory overload, effects of memory loss, low self-worth, jin is a goddamn sweetheart, mentions of torture, mentions of starvation, angst lol, over-complicated plot cause it’s fanfiction lol, the boys trying their best

→ a/n: also lil disclaimer i am obviously not a doctor so kindly disregard any medical impracticalities that may arise thanks loves :)

past part ← series masterlist → next part

part 3: when you forget me

“Who did this to you?”

Staring up into the eyes of the man leaning over you, a shiver runs through your body at the deep, even tone of his voice. For a long moment, you can’t speak, too distracted by the fact that his attention is directed entirely at you.

The dark piercing eyes, the delicate curve of his mouth, the black curly hair hanging over his forehead. It all shocks you still with something you can’t name. Not quite familiarity, but a sense that whoever this man is, it’s a good idea to listen to him.

You sit there choking on your own words as his eyes search your face.

“Are you afraid?” he simply asks.

You nod, tongue dry in your mouth. 

His eyebrows furrow slightly. He seems to be staring even deeper into your eyes than before, searching for something.

“Joon,” the man calls, a touch of urgency in his voice.

One of the taller ones, the man with short brown hair, approaches you. And you can’t help but notice his build.

He’s broad with long, thick limbs, no doubt bulked with muscle beneath his many layers. It would be easy for him to overpower you. Hurt you.

Instinctively, you flinch back as he gets closer.

He drops to one knee to meet your eye level, softening his expression when you meet his gaze.

“Hey, hey,” he begins in a calming tone, seemingly sensing your rising anxiety at being confronted. “None of us are going to hurt you. It’s all going to be okay. I promise.” 

You don’t believe him. Of course you don’t. But something about his warm eyes, the deep sincerity that lies behind them, makes you release a breath and nod anyway. Or maybe it’s the way that strange feeling in your chest quivers at the sound of his voice.

Offering a slight smile, he then holds up his hands cautiously.

“May I touch your forehead?” he asks.

As if the rhythm of your brain skips a beat, you reel at the question. He's...asking for permission?

You manage a slight nod, watching him closely as he lifts his hands and places one flat against your forehead and the other at the back of your neck.

The others are watching intently, making the air prickle.

Heat blooms under the man’s large hands, spreading down your spine and into your very bones.

Wisps of smoke dance along the edge of your vision. It seems to be coming from him, seeping from his hands, from his mouth, his eyes, which are now clouded over with a milky white film.

A tickling feeling, like the sensation of a string creeping down your throat, seizes your whole body and mind. It’s hot and cool at the same time, singeing your nerve endings yet soothing them as the sensation travels.

Too invasive, it’s too invasive.

It only lasts for a few seconds before you’re jerking out of his grasp. You huff smoke out of your own lungs, desperately trying to expel the strange force that’s permeated your whole body.

Several of the others flinch too. They all seem to be honed in on your every reaction, twitching when you twitch, breath hitching along with yours.

The man withdraws his hands with a placating expression, rising to his feet and backing away to give you some space.

You barely hear it, but he leans over and whispers in Yoongi’s ear.

“We all need to talk. Now.”

You see the smaller man’s jaw clench. His hands ball into fists at his sides, his entire face darkens.

One blink later, and it’s gone, replaced by an expression so heavy, so broken that it nearly brings a sting to your eye.

The only other person Yoongi can bring himself to make eye contact with is Jin.

His hyung understands immediately, letting his eyelids slowly close as all his suspicions are confirmed. He had an inkling, when he found you in that prison cell and you looked at him like he was a stranger. He supposes that now, he essentially is one to you.

It feels like a hit to the gut. He feels the deep ache in the pit of his chest, raw with the knowledge that what’s done can’t be undone. And it hurts like hell.

But he can’t break down now, not in front of the boys, and certainly not in front of you. Your understanding of the situation is extremely fragile right now, and he knows that he needs to lead by example so you can be as comfortable as possible, so you know that you’re safe here with them.

So Jin inhales a clear breath, swallows down his sorrow, and musters up the most composed expression he can manage.

“Alright,” he begins, the whole room looking at him after he breaks the silence, looking for guidance.

“Let’s get you fixed up, hmm?”

You don’t realize that he’s talking to you until he takes a step forward and gestures in your direction.

“Will you follow me?”

You’re realizing that no one is punishing you for making eye contact without permission, so you meet his gaze with a little less hesitation.

The man waits patiently, nothing but gentle concern in his eyes.

Your skin tingles with the feeling of everyone’s gaze on you again, and after your brain slowly processes the question, you rise shakily to your feet and follow him through a nearby doorway.

It’s only after Jin exits the room, after his back is turned, that he lets a few silent tears fall into his sleeve, quick to wipe them away. Because now he needs to do what he does best: heal his clan.

Exhaustion, hunger, and fizzling adrenaline buzz through your veins, your body burned out from running even a short distance. It’s a laborious task to just put one foot in front of the other, but you focus hard to keep up with the man leading you down the hall.

Every step makes your vision blurrier. You can hear your own struggled breathing, feel the burning in your limbs, but the only thing you know how to do is push on and mask how it feels.

Don’t express emotions. Don’t show your pain. It always makes it worse.

Jin pretends not to notice. He has to fight the urge to offer you his arm to lean on, knowing it probably wouldn’t do any good.

You have no idea how long you were asleep or how long you’ve been here, wherever here is. These men don’t seem like a severe threat, at least not now. They haven’t hit you, called you names, spit on you for making noise. But they could be putting on a front, trying to establish a false sense of security.

You’re not letting your guard down anytime soon.

The two of you come to a large, clean room. It’s well-lit, making you squint your eyes against the brightness.

It’s so bright here. And spacious too. Every room seems as wide as a football field.

The man directs you to a bed lined with paper, and you flinch as you sit down, making much more noise than you wanted.

But he doesn’t seem angered by it, he only turns to one of the many cabinets lining the walls.

The familiar squeak and snap of medical gloves. It puts a heavy pit in your stomach. Clenching your teeth, you try to ignore the swell of nausea.

You hear some shuffling, the clink of glass, and then the man is sitting down in a rolling chair next to the bed.

“Do you recognize me?” he asks, slipping a pair of black glasses out of his shirt pocket and putting them on.

A flash of the ashen, vein-mapped face ignites in your memory.

“Yes,” you reply softly, almost flinching at the sound of your own voice in the quiet room.

“Who am I?” He’s looking at you patiently, but there’s a hint of desperation behind it.

“You were in my cell. You’re a—”

Cutting yourself off immediately, you can’t help but recall all the names your captors used to refer to them.

Parasites. Bloodsuckers. Demon spawn.

The man seems to read your mind, but his eyes stay nothing but patient and kind.

“I’m vampiric, yes.”

He busies himself opening a gauze pad and dousing it with disinfectant. When he looks back up at you, it’s with a questioning gaze.

“May I clean your cuts?”

You sit there dumbstruck for a moment. You can’t remember the last time someone cleaned anything for you, let alone asked for permission to do it as if you have some kind of agency. Or spoke to you so...gently.

After a few seconds of silence, you manage a nod.

He offers a slight smile and starts with the shallow cuts and scrapes on your hands. They are overlapped with scars, dirt and dried blood caked under your fingernails.

His touch is warm. It almost makes you jump, the way his skin feels like human skin. You were always told that they were cold creatures, more dead than alive.

Then there’s the alcoholic sting of the disinfectant. That makes you actually jump, but you fight the urge to pull away in case it ends in more pain.

“I’m sorry, it’s going to sting,” he says.

Why is he apologizing? Why is he treating you like this? Like you’re a human and not a creature?

He moves up to the more deep gashes on your arms, applying cream to the worst of them and bandaging them up.

“My name’s Jin. It’s nice to be formally introduced,” the man says, smiling a little painfully.

It hurts him to say it, to admit that he needs to re-introduce himself to you. But at least you’re letting him tend to your wounds. Right now, that’s all he can ask for.

You sit there silently as he moves all the way up to your shoulders, avoiding putting pressure on the deep purple bruises that litter your skin.

“What’s your name?” He knows it, of course he does. And again it hurts to ask, but he knows that this is the best way to go about it, rather than overloading you with the fact that you’ve been here before, that you already know them all.

The question stumps you. You’ve been called many names. Mutt, beast, savage, monster. You don’t remember ever being called anything else.

The man—Jin—seems to sense your inner struggle.

“Can you remember it?” he asks.

With your eyes trained down at the floor, you shake your head.

“Hmm,” he replies, thinking. “Well that just won’t do. What would you like to be called?”

That stumps you even more. Your mind goes as blank as your memory.

Several minutes of silence pass as he tends to the wounds on your neck and face.

The more he looks, the more his blood boils. Your neck is badly bruised, with painful-looking red rub marks all the way around, as if it’s been abused with a number of different things. A tight fist, a ring of rope, a collar.

Your face is covered in scars and yellowing black bruises. Chunks of hair have been ripped from your skull, not to mention that fact that most of your hair has been sloppily cut.

It all makes him want to tear the throats of everyone even associated with that facility. Looking at your face, at the poorly hidden terror that resides in it, Jin tries his hardest to mask his anger so you aren’t frightened by it.

Jin checks for signs of infection while he dabs at the lesions. He notices that you barely flinch, even when it’s clear that you want to. He wonders, feeling sick to his stomach, what happened in that horrifying place.

“You’ve been through a lot of pain,” he says, and you can hear deep sympathy in his voice.

It’s unusual to you, hearing someone sound sorry for you.

You don’t reply, looking down at the floor again.

A few minutes pass, with him continuing to patch up your wounds while you sit there motionless. After Jin finishes the last bandage, he hesitates, looking at you with another question in his eyes.

“Wound you mind removing your shirt?”

It makes you turn cold, arms unconsciously wrapping protectively around yourself.

“No? Okay, we don’t have to do that,” he says almost immediately, shifting his attention to your legs instead.

“Any internal pain or other symptoms?”

You only answer with a dull shake of your head when he looks up at you expectantly.

He raises an eyebrow like he doesn’t believe you for a second.

“It’s okay to tell me. I’m a doctor.”

You still don’t say anything, despite the sharp pain in your stomach and the incessant pounding in your head. Too many times you’ve encountered doctors that did nothing but use their knowledge of your body against you.

The last thing you want to do is admit weakness.

For a very brief moment, Jin’s face flashes with disappointment, and you feel your gut lurch with guilt. The next second he’s gathering more equipment from the cart next to the bed.

“Would you mind if I did a few more basic checks?” he asks.

This time you indulge him with a slight nod, and you’re rewarded with a smile that plumps up his cheeks and makes that something in your chest jump.

He checks your heartbeat, your temperature, your blood pressure, among other things that you don’t recognize.

You accept it all with quiet compliance, still fighting the urge to flinch away with every touch. Because every time he touches you, your heartbeat stalls against your will, heat blazing across the spot where his skin met yours.

He always treats you softly and with compassion, making your eyes burn with the urge to cry.

He removes his gloves after he’s done, tossing them, along with the used gauze, into a bin.

“I’m going to give you some antibiotics to fight infection, and something for your pain,” he informs you.

Again, all you do is sit there silently, head tilted down towards the ground.

Jin fights off a sad frown as he turns to one of the cabinets and shuffles through the many pill bottles. Finding the ones he’s looking for, he empties a few into his hand, grabbing a stray water bottle from the counter.

When he hands them to you, you take them very hesitantly. Your heart rate picks up considerably when he continues to stand there, clearly intent on watching you take them.

Slowly, you take a swig from the bottle and raise your cupped hand to your lips. You feign tilting the contents of your palm into your mouth, swallowing as little of the water as possible in case it too is laced with something. You’ve gotten quite good at pretending to take pills, so he easily believes you.

When he turns around, you spit the water back into the bottle as quietly as you can and tuck the pills into your makeshift pants pocket.

“Alright,” Jin says as he turns back to face you. “Now let’s get you something to eat.”

The air is heavy, sucked dry from the words out of Yoongi’s mouth. The six of them stand there silently, feeling gutted.

Hoseok is the first to string together a comprehensible sentence.

“I...I can’t believe it.”

None of them can. Almost ten years, gone. The years spent living with them, loving them, getting to know them better than anyone else in the world, all wiped away.

You can’t remember essentially growing up with the maknaes. You can’t remember studying spells with Yoongi, nearly surpassing him in knowledge and skill. You can’t remember all the times Jin nursed you back to health after protecting the others in a fight, or when you would explode laughing at one of Hobi’s jokes while still in recovery, Jin snapping at him to knock it off because you’d broken your ribs again.

And all the years spent earning your trust, earning their trust, building your confidence, carving your place in their souls, all gone from your mind.

“How?” Jungkook asks, voice thick with hopelessness.

“A riamemors spell,” Yoongi replies. His arms are crossed as he leans back on the counter, eyes trained on the ground. His expression is unreadable, but they all know that he’s been hit just as hard.

None of them know as much about casting as Yoongi does, not even Namjoon, but almost every Northerner knows what that spell does. It means “death of memories,” and it cannot be reversed.

The F&F has been abusing it for decades. First using it in weak doses on humanic people to keep them ignorant about the realities of atypicals, then using it full potency on atypicals to make them mindless slaves.

They don’t know what that facility was planning on using you for, but clearly they didn’t want you to have your memories to do it.

“How strong?” Taehyung asks. His eyes are glassy, chin wobbling despite his efforts to fight it.

They all look to Namjoon for the answer. One of the abilities of wraiths is delving into a person’s mind through touch, including their memories.

Namjoon’s face holds a deep sorrow. Your head is a very dark place.

“Nearly full strength,” he replies. “We aren’t there. Not at all.”

Half of them feel sick to their stomachs, the other half burn with rage.

“What does she remember?” Jimin asks, eyes glassy.

Namjoon’s jaw clenches.

“A bit from childhood, her parents, and...the facility.”

It looks like it physically hurts him to say it. A long, weighted moment of silence.

“Joon?” Yoongi says, looking up for the first time since they entered the kitchen.

The younger man meets his elder’s gaze, waiting in anticipation for what he will say next. The redness in Yoongi’s eyes makes Namjoon want to hug him.

“What happened there?” Yoongi finally brings himself to ask.

Namjoon’s throat bobs as everyone looks at him once again. It all comes back to him, the pain, the torture, the loneliness felt through your skin. The shadow of it, at least. The memory of it. The real thing must’ve felt much worse.

“Let us see,” Jimin suddenly says, taking an eager step forward.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jimin,” Namjoon replies, gravely serious.

“It would help us get inside her head, see what she’s dealing with,” he argues, looking around for support.

Taehyung and Jungkook look just as eager, while Hoseok looks tempted by morbid curiosity. Yoongi’s trying not to make eye contact, worried that it might give away the fact that he secretly agrees with Jimin.

Seeing that he’s clearly outnumbered, Namjoon lets out a defeated sigh.

“Alright, but just a glimpse,” he says.

They begin to gather closely around Namjoon, until he holds a hand up.

“Not you, Jimin,” he says sternly.

“Why?” the shorter man whines, upset at being the only one left out.

“I really don’t think you should see this. For your own good.”

Everyone knows that Jimin was briefly imprisoned at a one of the same facilities, and every so often he gets triggered and descends into a rapid downward spiral plagued with nightmares and flashbacks.

He looks around and finds the rest of them looking at him imploringly. When he looks at Hoseok and Yoongi, they both give him a silent nod.

Jimin sighs and lets his shoulders sag. Despite the itch of not knowing, he trusts his partners to take care of him.

“Okay, hyung,” he says, stepping away to stand at the edge of the room.

Namjoon takes a deep inhale when they’ve all huddled in a semi-circle around him. Smoke begins to unfurl from his hands, his eyes clouding over. When he opens his mouth, a thick stream of gray vapor pours from his lips.

Everyone leans over to breath it in while Jimin covers his mouth and pinches his nose.

They feel it burn down their throats and warm their lungs, singeing all along their veins until it reaches the depths of their minds.

Then their vision goes dark, eyes clouding over just like Namjoon’s. Cold fear crawls up their spines, the ghost of hunger sitting in their bellies.

A thousand images, feelings, and sensations flash through them.

Countless miserable nights sleeping on hard, wet stone. Being wakened with a bucket of freezing water. Gagging on rotten food scraps to soothe the never ending ache of starvation.

A slap to the face every time you looked at an overseer without permission. Because you are beneath them, not even worthy to see the color of their eyes.

A kick to the ribs every time you made a single sound, every time you even breathed too loud.

The sting of needles, the heat of an iron brand. Electric shocks right to the nerve endings when you fell asleep without permission. Cigarettes stubbed out on your skin.

A spit in the face. Spit in your food, then being forced to eat it because it’s all you have. Having to lick water droplets off the rusted pipes.

Open wounds, tender bruises. An ache so deep it feels like you were born with it. Chained in awkward, uncomfortable positions for hours on end.

Disgusting thing. You are nothing. You will never leave this place. You disgrace the ground you walk on. I wish I could kill you myself.

Jungkook rips away first. He heaves the smoke out with violent, forceful breaths, stumbling back like it will distance him from what he’s seen.

Hoseok and Taehyung follow soon after, jerking away as they try to cough the memories out.

Yoongi lingers the longest. When he finally pulls away, his eyes are brimming with moisture.

None of them can hold it in any longer. Taehyung bursts into tears, face scrunching up with the weight of it all. He turns to the one closest to him, which is Jungkook, and lets his head fall on his on shoulder.

Jungkook automatically puts a comforting hand on his head, fighting back tears himself.

Seeing someone they love go through all that, seeing them get treated like dirt, it hurts it hurts it hurts.

Hoseok nearly bites through his tongue. All he can think about is revenge, making the ones who did this to you regret it more than they’ve ever regretted anything in their lives.

Jimin feels like he might throw up. Not because he’s in pain, but because he’s seeing his mates in pain, so much pain. And their pain pales in comparison to yours.

He’s grateful to Namjoon, grateful that he didn’t let him see inside your head.

Jungkook’s chest hiccups with sobs, and Jimin takes hold of Taehyung so Jungkook can fold up against Hoseok.

Tae buries his head in the fold of Jimin’s neck. Hoseok wraps Jungkook in a bear hug to soothe his hitching breaths.

Yoongi, who’s held strong up until this point, finally succumbs and lets himself go limp in Namjoon’s hold, who was right behind him in case he should need him.

For several minutes, the air is filled with nothing but heart-wrenching cries and quiet snivels.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, she’s safe now,” Namjoon says to no one in particular, still supporting Yoongi’s weight.

Jungkook’s gaze has gone foggy. The hell of that place won’t get out of his head. All he can think of is how he wasn’t there, he wasn’t there to take the pain instead. It should’ve been him.

Taehyung’s balling like a baby, he couldn’t speak if he tried to. His chest is close to bursting, swollen with so many emotions that he can’t decide which ones hurt the most. The pain of knowing what you went through, the rage towards the ones responsible, the guilt of not being there to protect you, the sorrow of knowing that he’s a stranger to you now.

Jimin is torn between breaking down himself and being strong for his mates. He feels the pressure behind his eyes, but he blinks it away and holds Taehyung tighter, rubbing soothing circles on his back.

“Why?” Tae asks in a broken voice, finally saying what they’re all thinking.

Why would anyone do this?

“They must’ve not wanted her to know what she was capable of,” Namjoon answers.

It makes sense. You were a skilled caster along with Yoongi, the spells you and him collaborated on were some of the most powerful they’d ever seen. You were incredibly knowledgeable after spending years studying alongside Namjoon, partnering with him during many of his research projects.

You were always sharp, strong, and absolutely deadly in your final form.

“What are we going to do?” Jungkook asks, barely above a whisper.

“What we’ve always done,” Yoongi replies almost instantly, shifting to fully support his own weight. “We’re gong to do what’s best for her.”

Seeing him regain his quiet composure gives the rest of them the strength to wipe the last of their tears away.

“She’s been kept in isolation, starved...tortured.”

They all hear the catch in Yoongi’s voice at the word.

“Her trust in people has been completely broken. It will take some time before she feels safe again, before she can handle a normal diet, before she’s comfortable with being touched.”

That part is going to be difficult for most of them. After all the years of hand holding, cuddling, all the comforting embraces, it’s going to be hard to refrain from trying to soothe you with physical touch.

“No doubt she’s overwhelmed and confused as it is,” Yoongi says, then he pauses like he’s gearing up to say something difficult.

“So I think it’s best if we don’t overwhelm her further by telling her who we are. At least not now.”

Silence. Uncomfortable, choking silence.

“Just...pretend we haven’t met before?” Hoseok says, disbelieving.

“Not pretend, just...don’t acknowledge it,” Yoongi says. “Right now, we’re just a group of strangers that whisked her away from everything she ever knew.”

“We don’t even know how much she knows about what we are. Everyone knows standard protocol for those places is extended brainwashing,” Namjoon adds.

That makes them stop and think. What does she know about atypicals? Did they make you despise them like Southerners do? Do you even know about the soul bond? Do you even know what you are?

“Won’t that make her feel lied to?” Jimin asks.

“I assume she’d feel more lied to if we tried to convince her that she’s known us for years. It might make her feel like we’re trying to trick her into trusting us,” Namjoon explains. 

“It might pressure her into trying to remember things she can’t, to be the person she used to be,” Jungkook says, eyes still glazed over.

And all of them know that you’ll never be the person you used to be.

“She has to trust us on her own, not because we tell her that she should,” Yoongi asserts.

Another stretch of silence.

“For how long?” Tae asks.

“Not for long, just until she feels safe here. Until she decides that she want to stay here, Yoongi continues.

“I don’t know,” Taehyung says. He doesn’t know if he can pretend that you’re not his mate, like you aren’t a vital piece of him.

“We’ll just take it day by day,” Hoseok begins, seeming more convinced by the whole idea. “Right now, our biggest priority should be making her feel safe.”

Nods all around.

“What...” Jimin starts, voice trailing off with uncertainty. “What if she wants to leave?”

None of them can think of a reply to that.

The next second, footsteps sound from the hallway. The shifters can smell you coming, and you no longer stink of dried blood.

Jin rounds the corner, closely followed by your sluggish form, looking exhausted and shaky.

A jolt of fear in your chest from being confronted by all of them again, and the rest of them feel it in the pit of their hearts. The fact that their own mate feels endangered by them, in your own home, elicits a fresh sting.

There’s moment of dull quiet where nobody moves, too afraid to make a wrong move.

Yet again, their leader guides them in the right direction.

Namjoon steps forward with a warm smile on his face, slouching his shoulders to look less tall and threatening in your eyes.

“You must be hungry.”

a/n: thank you for reading til the end! comment any thoughts or reactions i love to hear them :) sorry if i forgot anyone on the taglist!

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 @bangtannie7 @veronawrites @karlalands​ @gooooomz @iceprincessviviane @mugiwaraelly @iwuzhere @fl0r4f4wn @welcometomyworld13 @chatsgotmytongue @uarmyhore @djodjom1 @singukieee @ee101abc @effielumiere @slinekyu @azalea-nyx @jcrml @schokoshaker @tirouxdreemurr @blancflms @lovelysneer @blackravena @illnevertrustmyselfagain @mirahuyooo @blank-et-noir @sld88

hehehe thank you!! yes the fluff will be extra sweet ;)

the comforts of creatures (3)

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

→ word count: 4.7k

→ summary: after you wake up in a strange place with strange men, you begin to experience kindness for the first time in months, as the boys begin to realize that you aren’t the person that they used to know.

→ trigger/content warnings: effects of isolation, sensory overload, effects of memory loss, low self-worth, jin is a goddamn sweetheart, mentions of torture, mentions of starvation, angst lol, over-complicated plot cause it’s fanfiction lol, the boys trying their best

→ a/n: also lil disclaimer i am obviously not a doctor so kindly disregard any medical impracticalities that may arise thanks loves :)

past part ← series masterlist → next part

Afficher davantage

the comforts of creatures (4)

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: 2.8k

→ summary: you aren’t used to this type of kindness. you’re fed, you’re sheltered, you’re safe. at least for the time being. but the men who rescued you reveal that your reality isn’t quite as real as you thought it was.

→ trigger/content warnings: effects from PTSD, mentions/effects of malnourishment, mentions of needles/injections

→ a/n: kind of a shorter update this time but i very much enjoy posting more regularly even though i write fairly slowly soooo here it is lol

past part ← series masterlist → next part

part 4: who are you?

“You must be hungry.”

The man called Joon says with a warm smile.

You're reminded of the intense pit in your stomach, heavy despite being painfully empty. The prospect of food makes your attention sharpen, but you still look around the room to gauge the other's reactions in case it’s some kind of trick question.

Through your hazy vision, you can feel everyone staring, and somehow the atmosphere seems heavier. Some of their eyes are red and puffy, you even think you hear stifled sniffling.

And they're all looking at you so strangely.

The man who spoke to you earlier, the shorter one with dark hair, his eyes hold both sorrow and the light of something hopeful. The man with the silvery-white hair is looking at you like there's a million things he wants to say, but every single one of them is stuck in his throat. And the one with the curly black hair can only look at you for a few seconds before he has to rip his eyes away.

Something doesn't feel right here.

The tall man is still looking at you, probably waiting for a reaction, so you muster up enough energy to shake your head.

A look of confusion crosses his face.

“You’re not hungry?” he says as if he doesn’t believe you for a second.

The rest of them exchange a look, making you anxiously shift your weight between your feet.

Again, Jimin recognizes the look on your face. It’s the look of someone who wants to run, someone who wants to hide and never be found.

He feels another sad lurch in his heart, but tells himself that you won’t feel like this forever, like your own home holds danger around every corner.

You won’t feel this way for long, hopefully.

Even though your body is swaying with exhaustion, throat dry and mind foggy, you finally direct some of your focus to your surroundings. For the first time, you ignore the strange men and look around the room.

It appears to be a large kitchen, lined with dark wood and jade-green cabinets. Brass pots and pans hang from hooks above your head, along with several potted plants with draping, vine-like branches.

The countertops hold baskets overflowing with ripe vegetables and bundles of greens, an abundance of shiny appliances, and what looks like a rack of freshly baked bread.

“Just a little something, then,” Jin says from behind you. “You need the nutrients, I’m afraid.”

You flinch so hard you almost bump into him, far too distracted to realize that he was standing so close.

But he doesn’t punish you for your reaction. Instead, all he responds with is an understanding smile.

“I’ll whip something up,” the shorter man with dark hair says. Eyes suddenly gripped with determination, he crosses the room to stand behind one of the marble counters.

“Kook, Jimin, will you give me a hand?” he asks, pulling utensils and ingredients out of the cupboards.

The muscular man and the silver-haired man immediately hurry over and eagerly assist him. They start to debate over the best thing to make, whether it’s something light or something hearty or something filling.

“Nothing too heavy, we don’t want to upset her stomach,” the small dark-haired one says as he fills a small pot with milk and sets it on the stove.

Maybe it’s the fog in your brain, but it takes you a few moments to realize that they’re talking about you, they’re concerned about you. Not only about what to feed you, but what will potentially cause you discomfort.

It’s a strange thought, after being on your own for so long.

“Kook, can you grab my kit from the apothecary,” the dark-haired man says.

The muscular man, Kook, nods vigorously and breaks out in full-on sprint from the room.

“And the blorebush extract!”

“Got it, hyung!”

He returns in a few short moments, carrying a weathered leather case and a bottle of green oil.

The dark-haired man opens the case and begins to crush a handful of herbs in a mortar and pestle while the silver-haired man chops blocks of chocolate into chunks. 

“Let’s go sit down, okay?” Jin says, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder and guiding you out of the room.

The room you settle into next is even bigger than the kitchen. A living room, by the looks of it, with wood floors and high ceilings. The majority of the walls are made of glass, offering a bright view of the surrounding landscape. All you can see is miles of thick trees and gray skies.

You follow them down a few steps to the sunken semi-circle of couches, cautiously sitting down after the rest of them do so first and look at you like they’re waiting for you to follow suit.

You can’t help but brush a hand over the soft, deep green material, trying to remember the last time you were allowed to sit on something so comfortable.

“How are you feeling now?” The man called Joon asks, leaning over with his elbows on his knees.

One quick look around and you realize that everyone is looking at you again, waiting for your reply.

But it’s like your throat has closed up, unable to produce words after so long in disuse. So all you offer is a slight nod.

“That’s good,” he says, seemingly content with your lack of words. “You can let any of us know if you need anything. Jin here is our resident doctor, so we’re equipped to deal with almost anything.”

Another pause of anticipating silence. You nod again.

They all exchange another look.

“I’m Namjoon, by the way,” the man says, gesturing to himself, then looking to his right.

The man at his side clears his throat and grins at you. He’s thin with angular features and dark brown hair, smile big and blinding.

“I’m Hoseok, but you can call me Hobi if you like.”

The man to his side, the one with curly black hair, has an uncomfortable look on his face.

“Taehyung,” he says like it pains him to say it.

You avert your eyes from him quickly.

“She can’t seem to remember her name,” Jin says suddenly, giving them a meaningful look.

A mix of confusion and sadness flits across their features.

“Well,” Namjoon begins, sounding a little breathless. “That’s...that’s quite a shame.”

A weighted stretch of silence.

“What...what should we call you?” Hoseok asks cautiously.

Shifting in your seat from the attention, you fidget before shrugging your shoulders.

If you could speak, you would say that you don’t care what they call you. It can’t be worse than all the things you were called before. You’re not sure you’ll even be here for long anyway.

“We can figure that out later,” Namjoon says, seeming to sense that you don’t plan on answering anytime soon.

“Can you tell us what you remember about the facility?” he asks instead.

It’s you who looks up in confusion now.

Facility? You’ve never heard anything about a facility.

He seems to notice your hesitation.

“The place we found you in. How long were you there?”

Brows furrowing, you wrack your brain for some kind of estimate. It’s difficult considering that all of it was spent in a windowless room, in darkness, or so out of it that the spectrum of time became completely warped.

They know all too well that you were taken about six months ago, but were you imprisoned in just one place, or were you moved around to better hide the location?

You remember the overseers, sometimes coming in regular intervals, sometimes leaving you to rot without food for days at a time.

Namjoon can see the frustration building in your expression.

“Do you remember being moved to another location?” he asks.

You shake your head, eyes trained on the ground in thought.

“Do you remember being asked for any information?”

You shake your head again. All they seemed to be interested in was hurting you.

“Were you ever involved in any experiments?”

For a minute, your eyes flick over the hardwood floor. Then you remember the serums.

When you look up with a new sense of alertness, Namjoon looks both horrified and interested.

It’s then that the other three men return. One of them places a bowl of chopped fruit on the coffee table in front of you, another sets down a plate of hot buttered toast, and the thin dark-haired man begins to ladle a creamy mocha-colored liquid into a mug, steam rising in fragrant tendrils.

You feel your stomach clench.

“This should help you feel better,” he says as he fills the cup to the top.

Even after the rest of them sit down, you make no move to reach for it.

It’s strange, but now that they’re all here together, the feeling in your chest is starting to ache again.

Sitting to your right is the silver-haired man, and something about his proximity makes warmth bloom across your skin. You can feel him sneaking glances at you.

Breaking the silence, he shifts in his seat to turn in your direction.

“Hi,” he says softly, voice light and airy. “I’m Jimin.”

You take the risk of looking up at him, and it’s worth it.

His eyes are a warm brown, brimming with kindness. Plump, pink-tinged cheeks puffed up in a smile. He has a trustworthy face, one that makes the feeling in your chest flutter like you’re greeting an old friend.

“This is Jungkook,” he says, gesturing to the muscular man who’s starting at you with wide, doe-like eyes. Dark, intricate tattoos are mapped over his right arm, one silver ring piercing his eyebrow. He flashes you a smile too, and it’s unexpectedly boyish and innocent despite his intimidating appearance.

“And I’m Yoongi,” says a voice off to the side.

You turn towards it, and you’re met with the face of the thin dark-haired man looking down at you. His jaw is clenched, eyes hard-focused. But once you meet his gaze, his expression softens.

He smiles for the first time, eyes creasing into crescents.

This time your whole torso seems to ignite.

Heat flares in your cheeks, and you avert your gaze back to the floor.

“Eat, please,” Yoongi says. “It’s for you.”

Silence as you survey the food in front of you, skeptically.

They try to hide their sadness, the ache they feel at the fact that you don’t feel safe enough to take food even though you’re starving.

“Kook, can you get me a cup?” Jimin asks.

Jungkook shoots up from his seat, more than ready to be of help. He returns in a few seconds with a mug and hands it to him.

Jimin begins to ladle some of the frothy liquid into his cup, blowing the steam away. He takes a big sip, then looks right at you.

Jimin knows what it feels like to have his food or drink drugged, and the lingering fear that sticks with afterwards.

He tries to communicate with his eyes, a look that says see? it’s okay. nothing’s going to hurt you.

He swallows with emphasis, letting you know that he hasn’t faked it.

You glance back and forth between him and the food, looking conflicted.

The fruit looks clean and fresh, with nothing to indicate that something has been sprinkled on it, and the toast is perfectly golden with an even spread of butter.

Another growl erupts from your stomach.

There’s still a possibility that the food has been drugged, but you decide that you’ll take the risk if it means getting to eat something. And even if it is, at least you’ll know for sure not to trust these people.

Everyone lets out a silent sigh of relief when you grab the mug and cradle the bowl of fruit in your lap like it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever held. Nibbling at the corner of the toast, your eyes drift closed for a moment in barely suppressed bliss. 

From what you can remember, it’s the best thing you’ve ever eaten.

You barely pay attention to the rest of what they’re saying, too engrossed in the way the drink warms your whole body. The salt from the butter invigorates your dull taste buds, and the cool fruit down you throat refreshes your senses.

By the time you’ve cleaned both plates, your stomach feels less cavernous and your brain is functioning much better.

You don’t realize that one of them has asked you a question until you feel them all staring again.

Namjoon smiles patiently, looking pleased that you accepted the food.

“Feel better?” he asks softly.

You give a slight nod, telling yourself that the heat in your face is from the drink.

“What kind of things did they do?” he presses.

You remember the sting of needles, the haze of drug-induced fever. Passing out on the cold, hard floor. Feeling like your skin was peeling off your bones. An ache so deep it nearly drove you mad.

Another long stretch of silence as the memories flood back.

“Whatever you can remember.”

You can remember a lot of things about that place. The problem is convincing your mouth to obey your mind.

You nervously lick your lips, the boys hanging onto your every move.

A dry, strangled sound leaves your throat.

Jungkook jumps out of his seat, making you flinch, and runs to the kitchen. He returns with a glass of water and puts it in your hand.

This time you down the whole thing with little hesitation.

“Injections,” you croak out.

They all feel a burst of joy from hearing you speak, but hide it behind a mask of nonchalance.

“Injections?” Namjoon says. “What kind of effect did they have?

You remember sweating until your skin was slick, vision blurring to near blindness.

“Weak,” is all you can say.

They all exchange a look. The F&F has been known to conduct experiments on atypical prisoners, some of them too horrific to mention.

The cogs in Jin’s mind begin to turn, thinking of all the ways he can test to see if these “injections” have any long-term effects. And all the ways he can make the people who did this to you suffer.

“You—” the rest trails off.

All of them look up at your attempt at speaking, hearts pounding.

“You should have left me there.”

And just like that, their hearts break all over again.

“What?” Jungkook says, voice sounding like he’s about to cry.

“They’ll be looking for you, they’ll hurt you.”

They almost feel sick to their stomachs. If only you knew that they’d risk even more for your sake. But they have to remember that you don’t know who they are, you don’t remember all the things they’ve done for you.

Jin discreetly clears his throat and blinks away the moisture in his eyes.

“They won’t find you here,” he says with as much conviction he can muster.

You look up at him, face full of fear and disbelief.

“There’s three levels of wards around the house,” Yoongi adds. “They would need an army of casters to break through.”

“Caster?” you say hesitantly.

None of them look displeased at your questions. Their expressions remain open and friendly.

“A spell caster,” Yoongi clarifies.

The fact that he has to explain it to you hurts his heart a little. Maybe it’s a selfish feeling, but he can’t help but remember all the times the two of you would spend hours in the apothecary, sometimes all night, playing around with different spells and runes.

“They’ll be looking for you, they’ll find you. They—”

“Listen,” Jin interrupts you gently.

You immediately go silent and lock eyes with him.

“We protect people like us. No one is going to hurt you anymore. I promise.”

He says it all with strong conviction, keeping his eyes trained on yours.

Again, your brows furrow in confusion.

“People like us?” you say in a near whisper, afraid of the answer.

Now they look just as confused as you.

“You don’t know what you are?” Namjoon asks.

You shake your head.

They all look at each other sadly. For a while, they say nothing.

You don’t know what to think. Panic starts to build in your chest again, breath quickening as Yoongi rises to his feet and leaves the room.

Blood pounding in your ears, you twitch in your seat.

They’re going to hurt you, they’re going to lock you away and beat you because you’re an abomination. Whatever you are, it isn’t right.

Yoongi returns just as the nausea resurfaces in your stomach. He has a leather-bound book in his arms, and he sets it down on the coffee table in front of you.

Flipping open the front cover, he turns to one of the bookmarked pages.

“This...” he starts, sounding unsure of how exactly to phrase it. “This is you.”

a/n: thank you so much for reading!! sorry for the slight cliffhanger lol i’m a slut for tension 😈 what did you think of this chapter? i’d love to hear your thoughts!

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 @bangtannie7 @veronawrites @karlalands @gooooomz @iceprincessviviane @mugiwaraelly @iwuzhere @fl0r4f4wn @welcometomyworld13 @chatsgotmytongue @uarmyhore @djodjom1 @singukieee @ee101abc @effielumiere @slinekyu @azalea-nyx @jcrml @schokoshaker @tirouxdreemurr @blancflms @lovelysneer @blackravena @illnevertrustmyselfagain @mirahuyooo @blank-et-noir @sld88 @goldeneclipsedragon @namjoons-bug @ariavaana @kinkajous @astrids-pandora @azalea-nyx @schokoshaker @theonethatlikeskpop @knjsbae @canarystwin​ @wyldsh1ld @themoonsblueside​ @insfirebunny​ @do-as-you-dont​ @kimrona​ @sinceritythatcouldntbedelivered​ @btsiguess-kpop​ @exfolitae​

the comforts of creatures (5)

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

→ word count: 4.8k

→ summary: you learn what you are, and your reaction is far from what they expected. as they try to help you feel safe, the boys learn about your triggers, and they try their hardest to help in any way they can.

→ trigger/content warnings: PTSD (self-loathing, mistrust, flashbacks/nightmares) effects of brainwashing, lil’ bit of lore, overt and internalized racism/species-ism (?), vomiting, anxiety, mentions of starvation/food poisoning, mentions of physical abuse, dissociation, mentions of torture, aversion to touch, mc pushes jimin but he’s okay, jimin is an angel, facial/body scars, body dysmorphia/repulsion

→ a/n: thank y’all for your patience :) here’s some more hurt before the comfort lol

past part ← series masterlist → next part

part 5: scars and soothers

“This is you.”

The man is pointing at a detailed image drawn in faded ink. The rest of the page is filled with scripted text and anatomical diagrams.

You can’t look at first, scared of what you’ll find.

When you finally do, you don’t know what to think. There’s the thought that he’s kidding, he’s lying. He can’t be serious.

The drawing is of a creature with tawny-feathered wings extending magnificently in the air. It has the body of a powerful big cat, muscular yet elegant. Its four legs end in sharp-taloned feet. Its neck is framed by a golden mane, looking like a big frilly collar. The mane’s trail travels down the creature’s chest and back, ending in a flowing tail. It has the face of a lion, with white whiskers and deep yellow eyes, yet the regal posture of an eagle.

A diagram off to the left shows the inside of its mouth, lined with row upon row of sharp teeth and protruding fangs.

Looking back up, you search the faces of the men around you. None of them appear to be joking.

You can’t speak.

You’re one of them, one of the creatures they all despised. The creatures that roam the wild lands for easy prey, spreading carnage wherever they go.

No wonder they hated you so much. You’re not even human.

A few silent, involuntary tears fall from your eyes, which are locked back on the page. You wipe them away hastily.

The boys don’t know how to react, all looking at each other with concern.

“What...” you squeak out, voice choked. “What is it?”

“A gryffin,” Yoongi replies. “You’re a shifter.”

Something gurgles in your stomach. You clench your teeth, nails digging deep into the meat of your thighs.

You believe him. You don’t want to, but you believe him. You’ve always felt less than human, like something wasn’t right about you. Like something was just beneath the surface, clawing its way up.

Now you know why.

Jungkook, who’s sitting closest to you, slowly, cautiously puts his hand on your shoulder in an effort to comfort you.

But you flinch at his touch, jerking away.

You don’t catch the look of hurt that flits across his face. He knows you can’t help it, but it still stings to think that his touch physically repels you.

“What did they tell you about atypicals?” Namjoon presses, trying to shift your attention so you won’t look so disheartened by the reality of what you are.

From the way you look at him, he knows that you’ve never heard that word before. Or at least you don’t remember it.

“Atypicals are anything that falls out of the humanic species,” he explains patiently.

Your face scrunches in confusion.

“Humanic as in human,” he elaborates.

You don’t understand why he’s talking like that. You’ve never heard these terms before. In the place you came from, the “facility,” anything that wasn’t human was an abomination, a mistake in the eyes of nature.

Simple as that.

But here, things seem to be a bit more complicated.

Nausea is starting to bubble in your gut. You breathe carefully through your nose as you consider Namjoon’s question.

“They said...” you begin hesitantly.

They’re all on the edge of their seats, desperately wondering what those bastards brainwashed you to believe about their kind, your own kind.

“They said that they were monsters.”

Another pang of hurt thrums through their hearts.

“That...that they deserved to be hunted down like dogs.”

They can hear the pain in your own voice, either from witnessing their cruel behavior, or from realizing that you’ve been the target of it this whole time.

Your stomach churns.

“They said I wasn’t even worthy to lick the ground they walked on.”

They can all hear you choking on your tears, despite your attempts to hide it.

Jimin and Jungkook feel like their chests are going to burst from holding it in, both the sorrow they feel for you and the urge to rush forward and drown you in affection.

Jin and Namjoon have storms raging inside their heads. Namjoon is calculating, trying to decode what exactly their motive was and how to use it to track down the ones in charge of it all. Jin’s mind is reeling with ways to undo the damage they’ve done, mentally and physically.

Yoongi is swimming waist-deep in despair. He can’t help but think of what’s to come. You’ll have to relearn everything. How to shift, how to fight, how to cast. That is, if you even want to.

You feel the newly strung tension in the air, looking like you just realized you said all of those things out loud.

One look around the room, and your newly found voice retreats deep into your throat.

The man called Namjoon, his eyes have darkened, jaw clenched and ticking like he’s grinding his teeth.

The one who tended to your wounds is sitting stiffly in his chair, staring ahead with a new sharpness in his face.

The small dark-haired man has his hands clenched, prominent veins crawling up his arms.

You duck your head down, body stiff with nerves.

“You have to know,” Yoongi begins, voice calm as ever despite the rage just below the surface. “That’s not how most people think. Especially not here.”

Here in the North Regions, atypicals make up the majority of the population. Law enforcement, government, and public works are largely run by them, and prejudice is rarely an issue.

But how could you know that now?

They can all see the change. It’s almost instantaneous, the way your face shifts and loses all semblance of emotion. Just like that, the mask is back up.

Then there’s something else. A slight twitch from your nose, a well-hidden shudder. They can see your throat bobbing.

For a few seconds, it looks like you’re about to say something. Your tongue is moving inside your mouth, and you’re blinking rapidly.

Namjoon is about to utter some gentle encouragement, but a jolt racks through your body, making you hunch over.

All of a sudden you’re vomiting up everything you just ate.

Hoseok, Jungkook and Jimin can’t help but jump to their feet, panicked noises filling the air.

Taehyung’s eyes widen. All his limbs go rigid, paralyzing him in his seat. He feels sick himself.

Jin, Namjoon, and Yoongi all look at each other.

Yoongi thrusts into action, heading to the kitchen with Jungkook in tow since he isn’t good around pungent-smelling things.

Namjoon starts giving instructions. Jimin, paper towels. Hobi, get the mop. Said men jolt into action, scrambling to do whatever they can to help.

Jin’s eyes have been fixed on you for some time now, catching your every move, including all the suppressed flinches and tremors.

He’s at your side in an instant, on his knees to try to catch your eyes. But it’s no use, you’re squeezing your eyes shut like you’re expecting to be hit.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he mutters in his gentlest voice. “It’s no big deal. No one is upset with you.”

As much as he wants to, he refrains from touching you right away.

Eyes still tightly shut, you flinch away from the sound of his voice, twitching with anxiety.

Jin can see you start to spiral, so he does the only thing he knows will work.

“Hey,” he begins, voice firmer than it was before. “Look at me.”

Your eyes snap open, shining with moisture.

“That’s my girl,” Jin says before he can help it. “You’re going to calm down for me, yeah?”

Your eyes desperately search his face, looking for any sign of anger or deception. You find none, not even a hint of disgust, and your breathing starts to slow.

All that’s there is the man who tended to your wounds, watching you with those patient eyes. His handsome face is calm, attentively anticipating whatever you need right now.

Sweat gathers on your skin. That same sensation crawls up your throat, saliva pooling in your mouth.

Jin notices the signs immediately.

“Come with me,” he orders softly, putting a light hand on your back and leading you to the nearest bathroom.

You don’t know what to do with yourself.

You remember vomiting a few times at the facility. Once from eating a rotten vegetable, the mold making it impossible to identify. And once when a handful of keepers had held you down, repeatedly punching you in the stomach, until you gave in and called yourself a mutt.

Both times you were severely punished for making a mess. You learned to hold it in your mouth and swallow it down after that.

Jin guides you to kneel over the toilet. He keeps talking to you, but you only process half of what he’s saying.

“Go ahead, let it out,”

You can feel it creeping up, burning and sour. But something deeper, something almost instinctual, tells you to keep it down.

“Stop holding it in, sweetheart,” he says, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “It’s not good for you. It’s okay to let go.”

Before you can think to suppress it, another wave of nausea surges through your body. The crescendo of it makes you wretch, emptying the last of your stomach’s contents.

“Good, good, just get it all out,” he encourages instead of beating you until you can’t breathe.

The bile is bitter in your mouth, but not more bitter than the dread clinging to your entire being.

He’s not going to punish me, you finally realize. It’s almost an impossible thought.

For a moment, you stay hunched over, frozen. Not sure what to do next.

“Here, come wash your mouth out,” Jin says, helping you stand up on shaky legs.

The sound of running water rings in your ears. You feel the coolness against your tongue, but barely register that you’re the one cupping it to your lips. Numb. You feel like you’re controlling your body from the outside rather than the inside.

“Now, let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

You look up at him for the first time in a while. His face is as kind as it was before, with the same full-lipped smile and warm brown eyes.

The man starts to lead you out of the room, that same gentle hand resting on your back.

It isn’t until then that you realize you’re still in the grimy clothes they found you in. And now the entire front of your shirt is stained with even more filth.

You glance into the living room as you pass through the hallway.

The other men are diligently cleaning the area you just soiled. The small dark-haired man and the muscular man are missing, though you can hear rustling from the kitchen.

The one with the jet black hair and bright face catches your eye, flashing a reassuring smile. It makes you rip your eyes away.

Jin guides you into the living room, and everyone immediately looks your way.

Shrinking, you’re shrinking into yourself as much as your body will allow.

“Someone run a bath,” Jin announces. “I think it’s time our little guest got some sleep in clean clothes.”

The fair-haired one steps forward and exchanges a subtle look with Jin, who’s standing slightly behind you.

“Would you follow me?” the shorter man says, holding out his hand.

It’s the one with the silver-gray hair and warm eyes. You think his name is Jimin. His face is soft and friendly. It asks a silent question: will you trust me?

You don’t take his hand, but you do take a step up the stairs in the direction he’s leading you.

You don’t catch it, but Jimin and Jin exchange a heartfelt glance, nearly ecstatic at the fact that you’re beginning to trust them.

Jimin leads you up the stairs as the rest of them settle things downstairs.

When you reach the top, he guides you down a spacious hallway that’s filled with potted plants and window light.

Every single door, down to the very end of the hall, is open. Whether it’s open wide or just a crack, not one of them is closed or locked. You’re not used to it.

The man, Jimin, stops at a door halfway down the hall and looks back to check if you’re still following him.

You stop a few feet away from him, still keeping your distance, but your expression is open and neutral, waiting on his next move.

He gives you a calm smile, and continues into the room with you behind him.

This room is just as bright and inviting as the rest of the house. White walls and clean tile floors, but this time with a large porcelain tub and a sink with marble countertops.

The man turns to look at you with a question in his eyes.

“Shower or bath?” he asks.

It’s a harmless question, a considerate question. But your mind is yanked back to that place.

Shower. A torrent of fire raining down on you, vision blinded by steam. It comes from every angle, unrelenting no matter how much you scream.

They would strip you down and lock you in a metal stall the size of a coffin. Then the dotted ceiling would unleash a downpour of near-boiling water.

You would bang on the walls, but the water made the metal surface just as hot, the floor burning the bottom of your feet. Minutes or hours they kept you in there, not letting you out until your body was covered in burn marks.

Bath. The most intense cold you’ve ever felt. It’s everywhere, submerging you up to the neck, seeping down to your very bones.

They would chain you down in a tub full of ice, nothing but your head poking out of the frigid water. The cold chains cut into your skin the more you struggled. Your lungs would heave from the shock of it, your whole body shivering violently.

Then they would hold your head underwater until you were bucking like a stuck pig. This went on until you were utterly exhausted, falling limp against the freezing porcelain with nothing but the tight chains holding you up.

You’re snapped back to reality when the man takes a step closer. He’s watching you closely, trying to read your face.

Finally remembering that he asked you a question, you shrug your shoulders and shake your head.

You don’t want either. You don’t want to be anywhere near that tub. You want him to leave you alone.

Jimin guesses that the gesture means you don’t care which one. He figures you’re most likely still weak from malnourishment, and he doesn’t want you fainting and hitting your head.

So he opts for a bath, turning on the faucet. He sits on the edge of the tub, hand under the spout to monitor the temperature.

The sound of running water makes every muscle in your body tense up. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

It’s going to hurt, it’s going to hurt. The fire, the ice, it’s going to burn and sting and cut into your flesh. You won’t be able to escape it.

Jimin doesn’t notice it at first, too focused on adjusting the knobs to get the water not too hot and not too cold, but your breathing has picked up again.

You can already feel it filling your ears, your mouth, rushing down your throat as your head is held down. Your skin prickles from the heat, it quivers from the cold.

The water in the tub continues to rise, and you can’t move. Your body is frozen, feet rooted to the floor as the sound of sloshing roars louder and louder in your ears.

Halfway full, now. It’s coming any second. He’s going to turn on you, throw you down and hold you under.

Burning, freezing. It’ll hurt and hurt and hurt.

Jimin turns his head, and his stomach drops.

Your eyes are squeezed shut, lips pursed like you’re trying to bite back a scream. Fists clenched at your sides, shoulders trembling, as your chest heaves up and down.

Immediately, he jumps to his feet and rushes over to you.

“What is it, babe? What’s wrong?” 

Then he makes a big mistake. He puts his hands on you.

His touch is gentle, nonthreatening, nothing but two hands on your shoulders. But you don’t want it, you’re repulsed by it. Because touch always comes before the pain.

On instinct, your body jerks away, arms moving to push the unwelcome touch away, just get it away. Your hands collide against something, hard.

When you open your eyes, the man is on the floor. Sprawled on his back, looking up at you with wide, slightly watery eyes.

There’s shock plastered on both of your faces.

Jimin’s soft heart hurts a little, he can’t help it. In all the years he’s known you, loved you, you’ve never ever been repelled by him. But that hurt is soon drowned by guilt.

He scared you, he made you feel unsafe. You felt the need to protect yourself and it’s his fault.

You’re staring at your hands in horror, completely floored by what you’ve done. You’re in for it now. He tried to help you and you hurt him. Now they’re going to hurt you even more.

Several sets of pounding footsteps draw near. The others must have heard the thud from downstairs and rushed up to see what was wrong.

What they don’t expect to find is Jimin crumpled on the floor and you standing over him in a braced position, but that’s exactly what they see when they peer through the doorway.

They’re all a little astonished, Jin and Namjoon are thinking deeply, and something in Taehyung’s eyes shifts.

He isn’t proud of it, but a surge of protectiveness washes over him, for his Jimin. He knows it’s unreasonable, unfair even. But it’s still there. And he can’t snuff it out.

A new fear consumes you. You were insubordinate, you resisted. You know what comes next.

A sob gets trapped in your throat as you sink down to the floor, burying your head in-between your knees and using your arms to shield yourself.

Immediately, the same way Jimin did, they all rush forward to comfort you.

“No!” Jimin blurts out, making you flinch and shake violently. “Don’t touch, give her some space.”

They all obey, keeping their distance with concern flooding their features.

Jimin shifts onto his knees, scooting a little closer but still keeping enough away.

“I’m sorry,” he nearly whispers, like he’s talking to a wild, cornered animal. “It was my fault entirely. I shouldn’t have touched you. I’m truly sorry.”

Jimin’s voice has always been soothing, even in the darkest times, and your breathing slows a little.

Jimin realizes that the faucet is still running, and he reaches over to switch it off. Then it comes to him.

He turns back to your trembling form, still waiting for the pain to come.

“You’re scared of the water, aren’t you?” he asks gently.

He doesn’t expect you to reply, he just wants to let you know that he’s trying to understand you, to help you.

You nod slightly.

It shocks them all again. You’re becoming more responsive.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Jimin says with all the sincerity he can muster. “It’s not your fault. I promise I won’t do that again.”

Your shoulders gradually stop trembling, breath coming evenly now.

Jimin looks at his mates and gestures for them to give you some more space so you can calm down.

They all do as he says, except Tae. He lingers in the doorway, his piercing eyes flickering between you and Jimin, thinking.

The two men exchange a meaningful glance. Jimin gives him a reassuring smile and nods his head as if to say “There’s nothing to worry about. I got this.”

Tae gives a slight nod back and turns to leave, throwing one last look at you.

Jimin sees the hint of distrust hidden in that look. He files it away for later.

Turning his attention back to you, Jimin looks at the tub and thinks of a solution.

“You don’t have to get in the tub, okay? We can just...” Jimin opens the cupboard under the sink and takes out a handful of washcloths.

“Like this, see?” He dips one of the cloths in the water, using it to wipe down his face.

“Is that okay?” he asks.

You scan his face. Those big brown eyes are full to the brim with kindness, as if you didn’t just hurt him moments ago.

You nod.

Jimin smiles so big it almost hurts his cheeks, heart swelling as you hesitantly hold your hand open. He puts another cloth in your waiting palm.

“Okay, here’s the soap, shampoo, conditioner. You can wash your face with this. Use whatever you want, okay?”

You look at him, trying to convey with your eyes what your mouth can’t say. He stays there for a moment, sitting with you on the tile, answering your every question with just his expression.

It’s okay. You’re safe here. No one is going to hurt you. You can trust me. I understand you.

Breaking from his reverie, Jimin gets up and moves to leave.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” he says, swinging the door closed.

You shoot forward and grab the knob just before it shuts.

Jimin jumps a little, whipping back around. There’s confusion on his face, then understanding.

“Okay, we’ll leave it open just like this. I’ll be just outside if you need anything, okay?”

You feel the tension release from your chest, and nod back.

Another warm smile, and then he disappears into the next room.

He’s not going to lock you in. Another impossible realization.

Turning around, you stare at the full tub. Your heartbeat skitters a little, but you take a step towards it anyways.

When you dip your fingertips in the clear water, you expect it to be scalding, or cold enough to numb, but it’s neither. The water is warm and calm, it doesn’t burn, it doesn’t sting.

Another breath releases from your lungs.

You use the cloth and soap to wipe down your whole body, shedding your dirty clothes and tossing them aside. Soon the tub is cloudy from the dirt on the washcloth. You even dip your hair into the water and use a little shampoo to get some of the grime out.

You sit there and wash yourself until the water turns cold. Using the counter to steady yourself, you slowly come to a stand, even though your legs are aching.

The sight in front of you is enough to shock you into silence again.

You can’t remember the last time you saw your reflection. You wish you weren’t seeing it now.

The person in the mirror is ugly and pathetic. Her short hair is a mangled mess. Haphazardly cut with a pair of dull scissors, it sticks out in all different angles. Her eyes are blank and lifeless, red-rimmed and surrounded by dark circles. There’s a large, hideous scar across her left cheek, deep and forked like a flash of lightning.

Her body is weak and repulsive. Slouching forward, she’s barely able to hold herself up. She’s covered in scars and marks, all over her legs, her arms, her torso.

You know there are worse scars behind you.

Horrifically entranced, you slowly reach up to touch the scar across her face, your face. Your fingertips meet the textured tissue, and then there’s the pain.

It’s not a physical pain, it doesn’t originate from the scar itself. It’s a pain deep in your chest, spreading and infecting the rest of your body. It maims you, twists your insides, disfigures your soul.

You muffle the silent scream with a hand over your mouth. Knees buckling, you barely have any strength left to keep yourself upright.

You’re barely you. You don’t remember who you were before, but you know it wasn’t this.

A gentle knock on the door. 

You immediately stifle any signs of discomfort, snapping the mask back on with frightening accuracy.

Jimin’s arms poke through the gap in the door. He sets a bundle of clothes on the counter.

“Here you go," his pleasant voice says. “Please let me know if they’re comfortable enough.”

You wait a good twenty seconds before you reach for them. A warm green sweater and soft cotton pants.

You hurriedly slip them on to hide your disgusting body.

Leaning closer to the door, you try to hear beyond the wood. Hushed voices, muted footsteps.

“Ready, love?” a smooth voice sounds from just behind the door.

You flinch away, trying your best to make your hair look less unkempt.

It’s Jin who cautiously swings the door open, greeting you with an affectionate smile.

“Much better, hmm?” he says.

You manage a curt nod, following him with your head down to another room. 

It’s the room from earlier, the one with the massive bed. The rest of them are here waiting, muttering quiet words until you arrive. Then they go silent and set their eyes on you, asking a question you can’t understand.

Why are they all looking at you? You don’t like it, not at all. People who look like them shouldn’t look at someone like you. You’re wrong, inside and out.

They all notice the change. Now your eyes are trained on the ground, head bent and shoulders folding in on yourself like you wish you would disappear.

Jin ushers you towards the humongous bed, encouraging you to settle in under the covers. He tucks the comforter around your body, fluffing the pillows behind your head.

“There, nice and cozy,” he says, sounding satisfied for the time being. “Rest up, okay love? You’ve been through a lot.”

Why are they talking to you like that? You’re disgusting. They should be throwing you out on the streets to fend for yourself like a common rat.

The small dark-haired man kneels down next to you. He hands you a mug of steaming amber liquid, using the bed sheets to shield your hands from the hot surface.

“This should settle your stomach,” he says.

While Jimin was getting you cleaned up, Yoongi and Jungkook were hard at work cooking up a tincture for your nausea. Essence of lavender to help you sleep, peppermint to refresh your throat, a little ginger to ease your stomach, and some of Yoongi’s highest-quality potions to replenish your nutrients. And, of course, Jin stirred in a copious amount of honey to sweeten it up.

You hold the cup in your hands like it’s a ticking time bomb.

Yoongi looks at his mates in confusion and concern, not sure what to do. Jimin catches his gaze, and gestures wildly with his hands. He exaggeratedly mimics holding the cup and taking a sip, and then Yoongi understands.

He gently takes the mug from your hands and holds it up to his nose.

“Let me check if it’s too hot for you,” he says, blowing off some of the steam and taking a long sip. He makes sure to swallow with audible emphasis.

“Okay, it should be good,” he says, handing it back to you.

This time you hold it close to your chest like it’s a precious gem, slowly sipping away at the frothy liquid. 

They all look at each other with a relieved, triumphant expression.

Namjoon steps forward and leans down to level his face with yours.

“There’s water for you over there,” he gestures to a table in the corner, complete with a pitcher and cup. “And the bathroom is the next door over.”

You nod to show your appreciation, still avoiding eye contact.

Jin enters your field of vision again.

“Do you think you can hold down some meds?” he asks. It’s sincere, no seeming deception behind it.

But you still shake your head vehemently. You don’t want anymore pills. In fact, you don’t want to see another pill ever in your life.

“Okay, love,” he says, smiling again. “Just rest up for me. For us.”

You have no idea what he means by that, but you sink into the pillows anyway.

One by one they filter out of the room, casting a last look at you before they leave.

You wish they wouldn’t. Their eyes seem to leave even more marks on your skin.

The door starts to swing shut. Then someone mutters something, and it stops just before it closes completely. 

Footsteps recede, silence settles upon the room.

You manage a few more sips from the steaming mug, eventually setting it aside. The bed is soft and comfortable, but you can’t bring yourself to lie down. 

You sit there, watching shadows dart across the wall, for hours.

a/n: thanks so much for reading!! if you enjoyed it please leave a comment on what you thought of the story/any questions it would mean the world to me!! and if you’re feeling extra generous, please reblog with tags it helps to spread the story around, thank you!! 💖

the comforts of creatures (5)

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

→ word count: 4.8k

→ summary: you learn what you are, and your reaction is far from what they expected. as they try to help you feel safe, the boys learn about your triggers, and they try their hardest to help in any way they can.

→ trigger/content warnings: PTSD (self-loathing, mistrust, flashbacks/nightmares) effects of brainwashing, lil’ bit of lore, overt and internalized racism/species-ism (?), vomiting, anxiety, mentions of starvation/food poisoning, mentions of physical abuse, dissociation, mentions of torture, aversion to touch, mc pushes jimin but he’s okay, jimin is an angel, facial/body scars, body dysmorphia/repulsion

→ a/n: thank y’all for your patience :) here’s some more hurt before the comfort lol

past part ← series masterlist → next part

part 5: scars and soothers

“This is you.”

The man is pointing at a detailed image drawn in faded ink. The rest of the page is filled with scripted text and anatomical diagrams.

You can’t look at first, scared of what you’ll find.

When you finally do, you don’t know what to think. There’s the thought that he’s kidding, he’s lying. He can’t be serious.

Keep reading

the comforts of creatures (5)

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

→ word count: 4.8k

→ summary: you learn what you are, and your reaction is far from what they expected. as they try to help you feel safe, the boys learn about your triggers, and they try their hardest to help in any way they can.

→ trigger/content warnings: PTSD (self-loathing, mistrust, flashbacks/nightmares) effects of brainwashing, lil’ bit of lore, overt and internalized racism/species-ism (?), vomiting, anxiety, mentions of starvation/food poisoning, mentions of physical abuse, dissociation, mentions of torture, aversion to touch, mc pushes jimin but he’s okay, jimin is an angel, facial/body scars, body dysmorphia/repulsion

→ a/n: thank y’all for your patience :) here’s some more hurt before the comfort lol

past part ← series masterlist → next part

part 5: scars and soothers

“This is you.”

The man is pointing at a detailed image drawn in faded ink. The rest of the page is filled with scripted text and anatomical diagrams.

You can’t look at first, scared of what you’ll find.

When you finally do, you don’t know what to think. There’s the thought that he’s kidding, he’s lying. He can’t be serious.

Keep reading

the comforts of creatures (6)

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

→ word count: 4k

→ summary: you share a meal with your rescuers.

→ trigger/content warnings: PTSD (nightmares/flashbacks, mistrust), mentions of torture + forced sensory/sleep deprivation

→ a/n: a little comfort before more hurt

past part ← series masterlist → next part

part 6: the first breakfast

The last thing you want to do is sleep. Bad things always happen when you fall asleep.

Keep reading

Bookmarking for later! I love finding rec. lists so I could just go down the line. And since I’ve been in a sorta seokjin mood (after watching the RunJin’s) lately this is perfect!

Seokjin fic recs 2023

In honor of Seokjin’s birthday, I want to share my favorite fanfictions that I’ve read this year. Although I did not read as many as I wanted to, the list will be short. But! I’ve leave my ‘to read’ list at the bottom to make up for it 💜I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell or contains dark themes, so minors dni.❗ 

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the original fic’s post 💜And if you want more fic recs you can follow me to stay updated 🙂

BTS fic rec index → May | Jun | Jul | Aug | Sep (jjk)(knj) | Oct (pjm) | Nov (*) | Dec (💜)(kth) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻. 

⭐Knocked by @sailoryooons [10.6K] // ksj x f.reader // roommates to lovers // 🥵😂

📝 Living with people is difficult, but all things considered, your new roommate isn’t terrible. He cooks, he cleans, and if you had to be honest - incredibly attractive. But his habit of streaming until the early hours of the morning while yelling and making other questionable noises has pushed you to the limit. You’ve finally decided to risk your sanity and put it all on the line with a reckless bet in hopes of getting some peace and quiet at night.

🗨️ This was so hilarious, and the build up and pay-off was really good 👏

⭐Sleepover by @peachypinkygloss [7.3K] // ksj x f.reader x pjm // bestfriends!au, threesome // 🥵

📝 You spend a night with your two best friends at their dorm room. You should have known that they wanted to do more than just watching movies.

🗨️ Omg this was so good, the smut 😘🥵

⭐I Don’t Think I’m Okay by @ressjeon [4K] // ksj x f.reader // slice of life, idiots to lovers!au, childhood friends!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 With many chances wasted, you couldn’t even resist anymore.

🗨️ A cute little Seokjin fic 🥰

⭐The IKEA Test by @yoon-bug [9.1K] // ksj x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵🥰😂

📝 One review on IKEA’s website called the BRIMNES bed frame the leading cause of divorce due to its difficult assembly. You and Seokjin had laughed when you read it. Now, you weren’t so sure.

🗨️ Their banter and all the sexual innuendos are damn hilarious! I thoroughly enjoyed this very much 💜 

I’m really sad that I didn’t get to read more Seokjin fics 😭 I have a lot on my ‘to read’ list, so I’ll share some that I’m really excited to read when i have more time (and I know they’ll be great because they are written by amazing people!) ✨

‘To read’ list ⬇️

Fast Lane by @yminie [20.6K]

Cherry Topper by @kth1 [17.6K]

Final Sleigh by @floralseokjin [23.3K]

Stuck with you by @taleasnewastime [29.6K]

Small Tuna Fish by @floralseokjin [17.1K]

Off Limits by @floralseokjin [series; completed]

Raspberry truffles by @gukyi [5K]

Christmas Warfare by @gimmethatagustd [14.5K]

9 Months to Fall in Love by @floralseokjin [series; completed]

Redamancy by @jeonggukingdom [7.1K]

Sunday by @here2bbtstrash [5K]

Serve Me by @chateautae [16K]

Meet Me at the Bar by @eoieopda [7.5K]

Internal Conflicts by @yoongiofmine [series; completed]

Forever by @oddinary4bts [25.2K]

Thank you, Daddy by @ktheist [19K]

The Devil Wears Armani by @floralseokjin [series; completed]

Glazed & Dazed by @floralseokjin [30.3K]

Wet & Wild by @jamaisjoons [10K]

Warm this Winter by @jamaisjoons [51.6K]

Peach Parfait by @jamaisjoons [series; completed]

Borderlines by @jamaisjoons [series; ongoing]

All I Don’t Want for Christmas is You! by @minisugakoobies [23.7K]

Cupid’s on Holiday by @persphonesorchid [17K]

Don’t Go Baking my Heart by @candlewaxandp0lar0ids [14.7K]

Platonic by @joheunsaram [series; completed??]

Last November by @kithtaehyung [24.7K]

Sit. Stay. by @daechwitatamic [14K]

Turn Back Time by @raplinesmoon [13.3K]

Made-up Love Song by @floralseokjin [series; completed]

Lost and Found by @taleasnewastime [21.2K]

I’m so sorry that I didn’t get to read more! 😭 Life happened, and yeah. But all of these wonderful fics on my list sound so incredibly good and I really look forward to reading them and give them a lovely review 💜

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SEOKJIN!!! 💜 🥳 🎂

Purple Car | jungkook

➭ summary: in which jungkook is a successful solo idol and your his long time girlfriend that he hasn’t seen in almost two months. again. it’s starting to feel like your more like distant friends more than lovers so when you unexpectedly disappear, jungkook goes the distance to try to find you.

➭genre: solo idol jk x reader, drabble

➭warnings: none really. a little angsty and depressing. there’s a couple bad words

➭note: first post🥳 | heard a snippet of the acoustic version of ‘car outside’ and this was the outcome sooo feedback would be appreciated.

Jungkook’s eyes begin to strain as he stared at the blue screen with wide and glossy eyes. He didn’t care how badly he was damaging his eyes. It didn’t even cross his mind for a second. He could barely process the information that was on the screen. But still, he stared at it in disbelief. How could he care about himself when the most important person he cared about was missing?

‘nearest train station’

‘train tickets to Daegu’

According to your laptop that was the last thing you had googled. The last time you had used it being almost an hour ago.

His heavy heart sank. Would the train be gone by now?

No. He didn’t want to think of the possibility that you actually left him. You two had always talked about going to Daegu together. Going out to hotels and spending the days happily touring together.

Jungkook’s throat ran dry as he thought about the word touring. When was the last time he actually spent quality time with you? He had just came back from a month tour, promoting his new solo album. He had spent weeks prior getting ready for it and his schedule became full in an instant.

He felt bad and had always planned on making up for lost time as soon as he was done. He knew that after his company would leave him alone for once and he was set on making you his top priority after.

He always made sure to call you at least once a day when on tour, or send little gifts and things to the house in an attempt to cheer you up.

Jungkook glanced around the room, some of his latest gifts not even out of the box. At first, he was constant with the calls and gifts. They would be sweet and meaningful. But as the tour continued the more tired he got. His calls were short and late at night and his gifts became small and less frequent.

His stomach swelled with guilt at the thought. How could he do this to you? Abandon you, make promises, and give you false hope. He remembered the words he said to you to cheer you up.

‘It’ll be over soon before you know it.’

‘When I get back we’ll have the best nights of our lives.’

‘I promise to call you more babe.’

‘I promise I’m fine babe, everything will go back to normal when I’m done.’

‘Stop fucking freaking out so much.’

Most of the time, his mind was clouded by exhaustion and pressure he forgot about the things he said. It felt like all the nights before he slept was like a drunken blur. All he could remember was being on stage and wanting to do good for his fans.

Well now he remembered. All the dry talks between you two. All of the half hearted things he said while slurring, barely awake. Sometimes almost yelling at you whenever you spoke to loud or to much. It was clear as time went he became more moody and distant.

He felt sick.

On the king sized bed, next to the earlier gifts laid your phone. No wonder you hadn’t been answering your phone. Did you really go the extra mile to leave everything at home?

No, he thought again. This must mean your in the house. Maybe the shower, or you went for a walk. Why would you leave your phone?

He tapped on the screen as it lit up. His handful of text showed on the screen. Your phone was almost dead and seemed completely untouched.

12:02AM

Even though he knew you never took showers this late, he went to the master bathroom to take a peek. Nothing. There was limited places you could be hiding, and he had already checked the place once he realized you weren’t home when he first arrived. You weren’t ANYWHERE. Not even in the guest bedroom.

Now he was really starting to panic as realization set in. He had screwed up. He had played with your emotions. He had left you one to many times. Now you were leaving him.

Now he was feeling everything that you had been for the past month and a half, and every other time a big event happened. He felt abandoned, sad, ditched and empty. How the fuck did he not realize what he was doing? How did he not realize how you were feeling? Why didn’t you talk to him? Did you? Not like he could really remember if you had.

‘nearest train station’

He clicked on your past search to see the exact responds. Shit. It wasn’t that far from the house. Only fifteen minutes to be exact. And you had been ghosting him for an hour.

He sprung into action at the realization. He would just had to hope that the train didn’t leave yet. To just hope that you went to early or that you had changed your mind.

He jumps into his car. Not caring that he wasn’t even supposed to be out this late, especially not in his recognizable purple car. Something even his fans knew was his prized possession since he and your favorite color was purple. In his purple car he felt like any other normal person. Especially when you were in the car with him. Now if just felt empty.

He practically sped to the train station (he actually did go over the speed limit a little), immediately parking his car in a random lot before booking it inside the large building.

Inside, he is immediately hit by a sense of bustling activity and the sound of people rushing to catch their trains as his eyes try to scan to look for you. Even though it’s early in the morning, there’s still a bunch of people.

Even when it’s a little dark inside the station since the sun isn’t up yet, he can spot a variety of posters and signs, displaying information about train schedules, destinations, and services available at the station.

He runs to the board, looking for the word Daegu and the color from his face drains when he finds it. The last train to Daegu had left at 11pm. Almost an hour ago. And what’s even worse is that he couldn’t even get a ticket till six.

He almost growled at the board out of anger. What he wasn’t going to do was sit around for five hours while you would be at a foreign place with no phone and nothing to defend yourself with. Especially since you were arriving at such a late time. He was not going to sit around when he had a perfectly good private jet.

Jungkook didn’t care who he woke up. He was the most successful man under his company and getting even more popular around the world. If he wanted a private jet ready at twelve o clock, he was going to get it.

Jungkook would be arriving to Daegu a big whopping thirty minutes before you, and it would take him a decent amount of time to get to the train station you would be arriving it. In short, Jungkook was seriously cutting it short.

If he was even a second to late, you’d disappear into the sea of people and his chances of finding you would decrease drastically by the minute.

Despite being exhausted and sleep deprived, Jungkook couldn’t sleep on the jet. He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. All he could do is refrain himself from tearing out his own hair by repeating calling your number, listening to your voice mail for comfort since he knew you wouldn’t answer.

Once his phone had died, all he had was his thoughts. The depressing feeling of sorrow and loss took over him as he cried his eyes out. He missed you and he hated that he drew you away. He hate that he hurt you. He couldn’t imagine a life without you. He wanted to marry you for God’s sake. He felt like his chest was crashing the more he was away from you.

Finally, after he arrived he had a car waiting for him to take him to the train station. He had requested the same purple car he had left back at home, it didn’t feel right picking you up in an all black shaded windowed limo. Whenever you both went somewhere you took that car. You two had spent camping trips and dinner dates in that car. Sure it was newer and wasn’t his car but it was close enough.

He drove himself to the train station and ran inside the building as fast as he could. His face was hidden with a hat and mask as he tried his best to blend in with the people while still desperately trying to reach the platforms.

When he did, he saw one train already letting off a load of people. Jungkook immediately grew terrified. Did you already get off? Did he already lose you? A million thoughts ran through his head as his eyes started to water again.

He didn’t stop walking till he was at the front of the platform, watching as the people who got off with smiles reunited with family members or friends.

Jungkook watched the train empty, looking through the windows in hopes of getting a glimpse of you still inside. But it was mostly empty. You must of been one of the first people to get off. You must of been in a rush to get away from him. To start over. To leave him like he had done you.

Jungkook’s heavy head dropped, looking straight at the ground with closed eyes as tears started to fall. Grieving over the loss of his soulmate. And he could only blame himself.

He wished he could turn back time and do things differently, but he knew that was impossible. All he could do now was try to pick up the pieces of his shattered life and move forward, even though he had no idea how to do that without his wife by his side. But he would always missing you piece of his life..

“Jungkook?”

Jungkook’s body immediately froze at his name. The voice was behind him and spoke with a shaky voice but he was positive it sounded just like you. Was his mind fucking with him? Did he actually hear your voice? For the first time in a month? Were you still here? Did he still have a chance?

He swallowed a lump in his throat as he turned around, a little cautious. His breathing stopped when he met your red eyes. It was you. Only a couple steps away from him. You looked different. More skinny, you had on older clothes. Not the ones he bought you. And he could tell by your tear stained cheek and puffy eyes that you had been crying for a while. But you still looked beautiful. He missed your eyes, your touch, your smell..

Without giving it a second thought, he jumped towards you. His arms immediately wrapped around you as he gave you a tight hug and held you. His tears were spilling more violently as he sobbed into you. Relief rushed through him as he held you. You didn’t push him away, but you didn’t exactly hug him either. But he didn’t care. As long as he got to hug you. He was scared of letting you go. He didn’t want you to leave, and he didn’t want to leave either.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He managed to choke out and soon enough you began to cry with him, becoming emotional in his arms. “I’m so fucking sorry.” He repeated, the first genuine words he said to you in a while. Your familiar soothing smell with the warmth of your small figure stopped him from having a full out panic attack.

“Jungkook I—“ you started to speak but he quickly shook his head, pulling away to analyze your face. He looked into your eyes with such relief and care but sadness still filled his expression. He was still scared you wouldn’t forgive him. That he had still lost you.

“I’m terrible Y/N. I didn’t realize just how much I let my job take over my life. Our life. I missed you Y/N I really did. I love you. I love you more than myself. I don’t wanna leave you anymore.” He said quickly pulling you back into a tight embrace, and this time he almost melted when your arms wrapped around him. He wanted to say so much more but he couldn’t form the words. It was paining him just seeing you cry.

“Please, give me a second chance to fix things. I’m not going anywhere without you Y/N.” He said, his desperate words spoken in a firm voice. He wanted to let you know just how serious he was about his words.

“Don’t promise anything..” you mumbled. The first proper-ish sentence you’ve said the whole time. He missed your voice, it wasn’t the same over the phone but your words stung. Did you not trust him? Did you think he would abandon you? Cause if so he’d get on his knees and propose to you right there.

“I just don’t want you to leave. I don’t want to leave you.” He sobbed into your shoulder honestly. Jungkook had always been a little shy with crying, even in front of you. But he was willing to expose himself to you. To let you know how he really felt.

“I-I won’t. Leave..” You choked out in a low voice and Jungkook was immediately over the moon. All his worries and fears washed away at your words. “I love you.” You spoke, this time in a stronger but gentle voice as his grip loosened a little around you.

He responded by pulling down his mask and kissing you with starving lips. His arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled your body against his. You kissed him back, melting in his touch as the world around you disappeared. You both had missed each others touch and you practically cried of happiness at the familiar warmth of his lips on yours.

When you pulled away to catch your breath, Jungkook leaned his forehead so it was touching yours. He closed his eyes and took everything in as he continued to hold your waist. Never would he be leaving you again. Never.

— A YEAR LATER —

“You ready for the tour baby?” Jungkook asked you in a gentle and soothing voice when he slithered behind you, wrapping his arms around you and putting his head on your shoulder. He gave you a kiss on your neck as he watched you pack your large suitcase.

“Absolutely. I can’t wait to visit all the different places.” You said with a wide smile as you leaned into his touch. When Jungkook cleared his voice you giggled. “And watch you preform of course.” A satisfied smirk showed on his lips at your response.

“Well I’m glad your happy.” He replied with a warm smile, his voice filled with joy and happiness.

Because what you didn’t know was that on the last day of the tour in Daegu, Jungkook was going to propose to you after singing Still With You.

Oᵤᵣ Bᵢg Bₐby / BTS OT7

Masterpost

➭genre: little space, age regression, fluff, caregivers bts, little reader, maybe some of the members can be littles to idk, sfw, hurt/comfort, mostly no plot

➭warnings: mentions of baby supplies, lots of pet names, mentions of pee, really if you don’t like little space just don’t bother

➭note: this is mostly gonna be drabbles and requests so if you like my writing style and want to see something don’t hesitate to ask♡

comfort blanket

someone bothers you

Stay Focused | jungkook

➭ summary: in which your dorm mate and best friend Jungkook isn’t pleased to hear that your boyfriend was over the week he was away. but wow did he look hot when he was pissed off…

➭genre: smut with a little plot if you squint, college au, drabble

➭warnings: unprotected s*x (don’t do that), cheating (also don’t do that), kinda rough s*x, cuss words, jk lowkey worships you, fingering, jealousy, dirty talk, jungkook’s territorial

➭note: thank you all so much your your love on my last two things (despite the evidence I do write about the rest of bts, coming soon). i actually love you all. anyways i don’t know what demon possessed me to write this in a public setting but enjoy!! ⚠︎ this is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. jungkook is used solely as a face and a name for the story. this is not a representation of real-life scenarios.

“Did you miss me?”

Those were the first words your best friend said to you after not seeing you for a week. He said it with a stupid smirk that matched his mocking tone.

You wouldn’t dare admit that you had in fact, started to miss him the first day you woke up to an empty dorm. You knew it would boost his ego to much and just encourage his flirty and teasing behavior that you certainly didn’t need more of.

Normally he would be up hours before you to get in a good work out at the gym to make sure his brawny muscles that stood out in the white tee he would wear after getting out of the shower look good.

You’d wake up when he was done with his shower. His long wet hair and visible arm tattoos were a nice sight to wake up to and he wouldn’t miss a beat to tease you about your wondering eyes. Everyday it was a new remark in the same teasing voice.

‘Like what you see, darling?’

‘You’re undressing me with your eyes again, sweetheart.’

‘Photographic memory I see.’

You could admit Jungkook was dangerously attractive and had no shame hitting on you most of the time. When you had first moved in and before he was actually interested in your personality, you had to quickly inform him you were taken with your new boyfriend at the time, Theo before he could do anything drastic.

Did that stop him?

For the most part, no.

He still complimented and hit on you, most of the time for his own fun and pleasure as he watched you blush and tell him to knock it off. But he stopped being so touchy with you and gave you a little space. You wouldn’t admit that you grew to miss his cuddles or his back hugs. The way his hands slithered around your waist always made your insides turn.

Theo had quickly realized Jungkook’s charm and potential as well. The first time he came over the dorm, he would not let you alone with Jungkook (despite living alone with him already). The air was so thick a knife couldn’t cut it and it almost made you physically ill. Later that night while you and Theo were on the couch watching a movie, Jungkook was in his room. You had jolted hard when Theo’s lips unexpectedly hit your neck, biting and sucking till a purple bruise was clearly visible.

Two things changed that night.

Jungkook became touchy again, and Theo became more protective.

Theo always found an excuse to come to your dorm, leaving things like his toothbrush or shirts in your dorm just to anger Jungkook. Whenever he and Jungkook were in the same space he had to be touching you. Whether it was holding hands or a hand on your hips. He also started trying to get you to switch rooms, and constantly blew up your phone and made allegations about you and Jungkook when you said it would be easier to just stay.

“There’s only one way to know. Try leaving again.” I respond flatly, rolling my eyes at him but he just chuckled, not convinced. “Right~” he responds sarcastically a sly smile appeared on his lips as he strolled over to the couch were you were sat.

“I wasn’t!” You deny again, getting defensive at his sarcastic and cocky tone. It was starting to become a reflex to prove Jungkook wrong any chance you got. You both were very competitive with each other and it was strangely something you two enjoyed. (Video games were your favorite sport.)

“I had company.” You inform him with a smug smile, knowing it would piss him off. Jungkook was always touchy about Theo coming over to the dorm. What reason, you never really knew but he did not like the thought of him and you being alone in the dorm. And he communicated and made that clear to you.

You listened to him, wanting to respect his wishes and person things. So Theo never came over the dorm while he was away.

Till that week.

Jungkook realized you were talking about Theo when he recognized the shirt you were wearing. It was a white and black shirt that Theo wore often. It was loose and big on you and it smelled a lot like his strong cologne causing Jungkook to scrunch his nose in disgust.

“You had him over while I was away?” He asked you, biting the inside of his cheek. His teasing expression fell as his eyes showed a little betrayal. He was mostly pissed as fuck at you, and he had made sure to show it.

“I know how you feel about it but I promise he never went near your room.” I said, quickly trying to clear my name and reassure him that he didn’t do anything.

The last thing you needed was to be on Jungkook’s bad side when he just came back. Sure you missed his presence, but you also missed having him as a friend and companion. Deep below the teasing and flirting, he was supportive and playful.

“That’s not the point, Y/N.” He said in a low, menacing tone that made you shiver as he leaned over you as you looked up at him. His arms sunk in the couch which held him up as he slowly closed some of the distance between you.

“He has a dorm mate who always has her friends over. It was just more conve—“ you start to explain becoming nervous at his sudden movement, trying to make him realize it wasn’t as serious and that you didn’t do it just to spite him.

“So you let him fuck you on the couch I sit on?” He interrupted you with a harsh whisper, sending goosebumps through your body. Your stunned at his words, to flustered to answer. You hadn’t realized how hot he was when he was pissed till now as he stared down at you with a intense gaze, studying your ever move.

“Well when you phrase it like that it sounds—!” You start to respond offensively, stumbling over the question but he doesn’t give you much time to answer after that anyways.

Instead of beaming down at you with a intense stare like he was, his expression changes. His eyes are full of mischief and his lips start to curl into a soft grin.

“Did he make you feel good?” He questioned you with a taunting voice. Although he sounded like he was mocking you, his eyes gave you a stern look. He looked ready to pounce on you. Like he was angry more at Theo than you now.

“I am not having this conversation with you.” You huffed, looking away from his gaze as butterflies filled your stomach. You were beginning to get warm, to warm. Jungkook didn’t need to know about your sex life, even if it wasn’t the best.

One of the problems with Theo despite him being overly protective and always jumping to conclusions, was that the sex you had was terrible. He didn’t last long, and it more awkward and uncomfortable than pleasurable. At first, you thought it was a you problem. But a quick Amazon purchase made you realize it wasn’t.

You knew Jungkook would have a field day knowing that information, but he immediately came to the conclusion on his own when he saw your sour expression while thinking about it.

“Aw, you poor thing.” He laughed causing you to groan in embarrassment. Something flashes in his eyes as he closes the gap between you. He’s so close you can feel his hot breath tickle your nose as he’s eyes shine at you. He puts a hand under your chin and pushes you to look back at him, taking in your embarrassed face with a smirk.

“Jungkook...” you mumble a warning to him. You had never been this close to him before, and you’ve never seen so much lust and mischief in his eyes. You couldn’t do this, not while you were still with Theo.

But naturally, Jungkook didn’t seem to care at this point. About your warning or about Theo. “You don’t know how much I had to stop myself from fucking you all this time. Ever since you moved in, Y/N.” He whispers, moving his face slightly as he pressed soft kisses on your ear. He trailed down, leaving more passionate and strong kisses in your neck.

“Jungkook~” you said again this time coming out in more of a moan as you began to squirm, feeling uncomfortable and wet below. Something Theo could never really do.

“I can’t believe I thought for a second he could handle you.” He spoke seductively and strong, almost growling. You couldn’t believe you were getting turned on to your best friend degrading your boyfriend. “And all this time you knew I could take better care of you.” He says, almost disappointed that you didn’t ask him for help and stayed loyal.

You knew Jungkook was skillful. Just by the way he’d move his fingers while typing on his keyboard or making dinner. Any time you cuddled or just any type of skin to skin contact you’d get excited and your stomach turned in knots.

He trailed down to your collarbone, sucking on it before ripping Theo’s shirt off you angrily and throwing it to the floor. “Have to get rid of his horrible fucking smell.” He growls, the sudden cool breeze that hit your skin making you shiver.

He plants a soft but needy kiss on your lips, and you become weak accepting what was happening and melting into the kiss. You laid your back onto the couch as he leaned against you on now completely on top of you. His kiss quickly turned into a passionate and hungry one, biting your bottom lip before sliding his tongue to explore your mouth.

His hand starts to move up your leg, stopping and planting it on your inner thigh which causes you to whine. You were sex deprived, your core almost hurting from the lack of pleasure when he was so close to touching it.

He chuckled, his chest vibrating against yours as he pulled his lips away. “I know, I know.” He said, voice dipped in honey. “I shouldn’t tease when your practically starving, but I can’t help it when you’ve refused me all this time.” His voice is teasing and playful but his hand starts to move again. Pinching hard on your inner thigh and the pain makes you both moan and wince, the skin contact making your mind hazy.

In own quick swift motion, he shoves his hand under your pants pressing his middle finger against your panties as he drawls circles on your clothed cunt.

“Your already so wet.” He practically moans, loving how needy you were for him already as he felt your juices from your panties. He places another small kiss on your lips after, as if rewarding you for being so aroused.

Finally, he lifts himself up to take off your shorts, having no trouble and tossing them to the floor. You quickly urge him to do the same, tugging on his shirt causing him to chuckle and helps you remove his shirt.

You almost drool when you see his glistening six pack and big muscles. It was the first time you’d actually seen them without clothing and it was godly. “Is it everything you hoped for?” He whispers, letting out a deep chuckle as he leans down to take off your bra, kissing your sensitive nipples softly as your back arches.

You nod, your throat to hot and your tongue to tied for you to speak so focused on what was happening. You moan as his tongue plays with the tip of your nipple, squirming under him.

A hand sneaks back up and calmly slips itself under your panties before pushing them completely down to your legs. He rubs your pussy first before taking his middle finger and slowly inserting it into your pussy.

You grip onto his arm as I slowly take his finger. When you whine for more he gets into a rhythm and pumps his finger in and out of you as your juice gets all over his finger and hand as he easily shoves his ring finger in next. It feels heavenly as his fingers curl deeper inside you and you match his rhythm and buck his hips.

It doesn’t take long for your organism to approach, having not felt so good in months. You felt like you were in cloud high just by his hand. Your walls clenched around him, begging him to go faster as you could see the white gates but instead he easily takes his fingers out of you.

“Jungkook..” you quickly whine your insides aching when his hand leaves but he just chuckles at you again.

“Don’t worry baby. I have something better for you.” He whispers, distracting you with a steamy kiss as he takes off his sweats and boxers. You could already see his big bulge before he took off his boxers, which sprung and twitched when he actually managed to get them off.

He was bigger than what you had imagined. Much bigger. And he dripped with precum which he mixed with your juices from his hand as he took a minute to stroke himself.

Suddenly, your phone started to ring which quickly catches your attention. You take your pleading eyes off of him and look on the nearby coffee table. You can see your phone screen from here as it lit up.

Theo🥰

You panic, reaching for it as blush rushing up to your face. You had forgotten all about Theo for a second and start to lean over to the coffee table. But your motion is stopped when Jungkook suddenly rams his hard cock into your throbbing pussy.

You let out a loud moan, hands balling into a fist as he gives you no time to adjust to his large size as he pounds deeply into you, the whole couch shaking and moving. You leaned so desperately needed the roughness as you closed your eyes.

“Stay focused, baby.” He whispers in a deep breathless voice, using a hand to force your face back at him and not your vibrating phone.

He starts to let out his own grunts when he feels you tighten around him, your stomach growing tighter as you reach a euphoria state.

“I-I’m gonna..” you pant tears forming into your eyes as you choke on your words. You grab onto his bare shoulder, nails digging into his skin as he tightens a grip on your waist to thrust harder.

Small tears fall down your face as you cream all over his dick, body shaking with pleasure as he continues to fuck you casing his own climax.

“Fuck. Your so tight. He can never stretch you like I can.” He says through moans as he becomes faster and sloppier. All of his load shoots into you as he pulls himself away from you and watches as his cum drips from you.

He stares at his masterpiece then back at you with a loving gaze before wiping your tears. It took you to long to realize that this is what you wanted all along.

Oᵤᵣ Bᵢg Bₐby / BTS OT7

➭genre: little space, age regression, fluff, caregivers bts, little reader, sfw, hurt/comfort, mostly no plot

➭warnings: none

➭note: my first request!! i saw this before going to bed and got so excited I stayed up for another hour and a half working on some of it. also purple car has a lot of notes wtff i love all of you

“Y/N angel, I think today’s the day we need to wash blankie.” Jimin calls out to you in a gentle voice when he spots you waddling down the stares with said blanket in hand after your nap.

You’ve had that blanket for months now and it’d only been washed a handful of times. It was getting so bad that the original pink color it came in was now a nasty light brownish color and covered in all types of food stains.

Originally, Minnie Mouse’s face was plastered in a diagonal line. But now, you could barley see her black outline. Not to mention the wrinkle and god awful smell.

At first they thought you were going through one of your phases and would eventually ask for a new blanket that had whatever thing you were fixated on. And of course they’d buy it for you cause you they loved spoiling you. But that’s how it had always been. Stuck on unicorns? You needed a unicorn blanket. Cars? Needed it in a blanket. Even plants (you could thank Namjoon for that phase).

But no. You couldn’t seem to let go of this Minnie Mouse blanket. Literally. You’d take it everywhere with you. Quick grocery trip, the studio, the beach, to another friends house. The boys were actually glad one time you brought it with you to the water park so they could rinse out some of the dirt from the last trip.

But now it was beginning to be a problem. The boys had several talks about it amongst themselves. All begging the question, ‘how do we get it out of her grasp?’ Why was this one thing giving you so much comfort you would fight them for it? For months they had tip toed around the idea, pointing out the blankets flaws in hopes of cloaking you over time to wash it. But somehow you weren’t phased.

The boys had finally decided to put their foot down that day when Taehyung came complaining to them in the morning about how he couldn’t sleep because the blanket was uncomfortable and smelly, but you had insisted on sleeping with it.

Sure it didn’t bother you, but it was starting to get to them. Being idols, Taehyung needed that sleep. But every time they even reached for the blanket you’d flinch before starting to scream and kick, not stopping under any circumstances till it was secure in your arms.

You quickly shook your head at Jimin’s words, eyes already filled with worry. “No. No wash blankie.” You huffed holding it tighter.

“Baby..” Namjoon warned, not liking the word no coming out of your mouth but this seemed to only make you angrier.

“Baby, it’s icky! Wouldn’t it be nice for it to be soft and clean again? Almost as good as new?” Jungkook asked you trying to pass his excitement over to you but you weren’t having it.

“I don’t want it good as new.” Your voice got louder as you argued with him in a mocking manner which only caused him to frown. This could turn bad really quick.

Your words just made the boys more confused but let the comment pass. “Y/N I don’t think this is up for discussion anymore.” Hoseok said sympathetically. He knew this was going to escalate and that you were likely going to cry, which is one of the things he hated seeing.

“Because it’s not.” Yoongi stepped in with a somewhat firm voice. Yoongi was easily one of the scariest when mad but he never let his anger get to far. Still, you knew his potential from small moments when you were big. “Baby the sooner you hand over blankie the sooner you can have it back.” He explained in a calmer voice.

You seemed to realize that this time they wouldn’t back down so easily. “But l love blankie! You can’t have it!” You almost shouted tears already welling up in your eyes as your face turned red.

“Y/N calm down.” Jimin told you firmly. They had tried to be sweet but it was frustrating when you acted like this.

“Baby, we’re sorry. We truly are, but this has to be done.” Jin told you and your eyes widen with fear when he stood up, making his way towards the end of the stairs where you stood.

“No! No! Please! Mean daddies!” You pleaded with tears, walking up the stairs backwards which was also a no-no. The others followed behind Jin, now worried that you’d trip and abruptly told him to stop moving.

Even when Jin stopped following you, you turned your back and run upstairs and to your room, slamming the door shut behind you.

The boys sighed as they stood there in silence. “I hate this.” Yoongi admitted, guilt brewing in his stomach when you started crying and the boys agreed in hums.

“But we can’t put this off anymore or it’ll come back to bite us in the ass. We aren’t getting rid of it.” Jin spoke as if reminding them cause it felt like you were going through the six stages of grief.

“Maybe she doesn’t realize that. We should try to make her understand the situation more.” Namjoon suggest and without another word Taehyung pushed himself between them and up the stairs. Jimin tugged on his arm before he could go further.

“You guys just stay here for a while.” He told them ultimately ignoring their confused and concerned glances before continuing up the stairs and to your room.

Taehyung’s heart broke when he could hear your sobs from outside your door. He couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit guilty that his whining had caused you all of this. They knew it brought you some type of comfort but your attachment was getting unhealthy.

When he knocked on your door, your sobbing stopped but he could hear you shift on your bed. “Go away.” You told whoever was on the other side in a shaky voice.

“It’s Tae Tae. I just wanna talk.” He told you and not giving you another chance to refuse before he slowly opened the door to your room before softly closed it.

You watched him with glossy eyes and short shaky breaths as he made his way to the edge of your bed. He held out his arms for you and you slowly climbed into his lap, clinging onto his shirt for dear life as you two hugged.

He combed through your messy hair and after you had calmed down, he spoke. “Baby, why do you like blankie so much? You were over Minnie Mouse ages ago.” He asked trying to understand your attachment to it.

You sniffled before answering, “Because it protec me. Like at the airport.” You stated and at first Taehyung was just confused until he realized what you meant.

The blanket was a split second decision. You were at the airport with them and had spotted it in a store for a brief second. The boys couldn’t resist saying no to you when your eyes sparkled just describing what it looked like to them.

They couldn’t go out and buy it themselves, there was to much press and it was a baby scandal waiting to happen. So they sent out some staff to go get it and you were over the moon when it was in your hands. It was one of the easiest flights with you ever and you were fast asleep the whole time.

The boys had joked about how magical the blanket was and how it protected them from any bad behavior (mostly talking about you). Hearing that, I guess you took it to heart and vowed to take it everywhere.

The worst part of it all was that it worked.

Whenever you took the blanket anywhere you were on your best behavior and had no mishaps.

“Oh but honey, it doesn’t need to protect you at home. Nothing bad can happen here and if something does that’s what we’re here for.” He explained with a beaming smile, happy that they had gotten somewhere. “You trust us right?”

You nodded hurriedly. Of course you trusted your daddies to protect you. They were super safe and had protected you many times before. And now that you thought about it, nothing had ever happened at home…

“So while we’re protecting you, blankie can get a nice bath.” Hoseok spoke softly, you hadn’t even realized that the rest of them were slowly making their way into the room hearts fluttering when you said you trusted them.

“Bath?” You repeated and he nodded with a reassuring smile. “You know when you get icky after an accident or playing in the mud? Blankie feels icky too.” Jin stated and they watched with anxious eyes as you glanced down at your blanket. You guessed it did look less pink, and you had seen a ketchup stain that felt weird when you laid on it.

“Blankie feels icky?” You asked still nervous and the boys smiled, knowing that they had finally convinced you to crack. They would help you feel safe and the blanket would finally get washed.

“Very.” Jimin answered scrunching his nose. He made a mental note to bring up cleaning your room to get rid of the smell.

“Can I help with the bath?” You asked eyes slowly started to brighten which warmed the boys hearts.

“Absolutely!” Tae grinned.

“Now you can’t get in, but you can help wash.” Yoongi clarified but it didn’t seem to matter to you which made him feel proud of you.

Moments later you waddled off be bed and handed the blanket over to Jin causing them to shower you with praises about how good and brave you were. It made you feel a lot better.

After everyone put on gloves, including you, they all headed to the bathroom and got it ready. You had wanted a lot of bubbles and they didn’t fight you.

“We should have used the washer and dryer.” Jungkook said his arm covering his nose when the smell got worse. He was the one with the most sensitive nose so they put him on snack duty instead.

“And the tub is going to be ruined.” Namjoon pointed out when they had drained the nasty brown water for the third time.

“It’s better than buying a whole new dryer.” Jin scolded them with a huff. Not like they couldn’t afford millions anyways.

“I got pink dye.” Taehyung said when he came rushing in out of breath. He had ran all the way to the store when he had thought of the brilliant idea.

After hours of hard labor and letting everything set you were reunited with your blanket right before going to bed. You had been tucked in, teeth had been brushed, story had been read but they could tell you were still sad about not having it with you.

You let out a loud gasp when Namjoon came in the door with it in hand. It smelt like flowers and it got some of its color back. Not good as new, but you didn’t mind.

“Thank you daddies.” You whispered, yawning when it was in your hands. They looked at you with loving eyes at the adorable sight.

“Thank you for being so brave.” Yoongi said back giving you a soft kiss on the forehead before tucking you in himself. Your daddies always knew how to make you feel safe.

Oᵤᵣ Bᵢg Bₐby / BTS OT7

➭genre: little space, age regression, fluff, caregivers bts, little reader, sfw, hurt/comfort, mostly no plot

➭warnings: none

➭note: I have 100 followers?? wtff??? I love you all?? Thank you for the support??🫶🏃‍♀️. updated the masterlist finally

The boys never liked the idea of you having a job in the first place. On top of the possibility of you slipping into little space at work or someone realizing you live with the biggest boy group in the world, they had money. They could pay for all of your expenses anyways.

So why did you get a job? Simply to get out of the house and to have your own hard earned money in your pocket.

It didn’t take long for you to quickly feel bad about all the things they’d get for you big or little. And it didn’t take long for the mansion they moved you into with them to get small.

So here you were, two weeks into your job as a simple barista when you made your first mistake. Someone had ordered a pink drink that was pretty with strawberries and once you saw the sprinkles you slipped.

You hurriedly finished the order the best you could and rushed into the bathroom but to your horror one of your mangers Gigi, had already been in there and was washing her hands.

“What are you doing?” She quickly questioned you. She had always been a hard ass and almost no one liked her. She was picky with everything anyone did and had obvious favorites. “Your not on break, are you?”

Stupidly, your five year old mind told the truth and shook your head no.

“Then get back to work what’s wrong with you.” She said harshly which immediately brought tears to your eyes. She had yelled at you before so her harsh tone usually wouldn’t push you. But it was different when you were little, and she seemed to see that something was wrong.

She glanced at the sprinkles stuck to your sweaty hands, then at your glossy eyes. She raised an eyebrow, “How old are you twelve? Stop acting like a fucking child.” She scolded again taking a step towards you.

“N-No I’m five!” You shouted out of fear and she immediately realized what was happening. Her lips curled into a nasty grin before grabbing your ear and pulling on it as she lead out out the bathroom.

“You’re one of them idiots that think they are kids. Well guess what? Kids have to work too. And if you don’t, I’m deducting your pay.” She whispered into your ear before harshly pushing you towards the cash register where another coworker had took over.

You had no choice but to continue working and every day after that she’d keep a good eye on you. She’d criticize your every move and did things like intentionally throwing sprinkles on the floor and demanding you to sweep them up. She’d try to trigger you on purpose and when you eventually slipped she’d yell and demand you to do the most impossible tasks.

And if you dare tried to get out of it or not do it at all it only made things worse.

You were seriously thinking about quitting altogether, but being a barista soothed you and you liked the people you worked with. Of course there were occasional rude customers but you liked how organized the job was and just liked getting out of the house without it being such a hassle.

But working was starting to effect you mentally (since slipping was a coping mechanism and stress reliever) and was starting to effect you at home with the boys.

You started not to slip at home even though they were your caregivers, you were scared of death of slipping. So in turn, you started distancing yourself from them whenever you happened to slip. And then distancing yourself period.

You’d stay in your room most of the day and when it was time for dinner you have short answers whenever they tired to make conversation.

Even though they themselves were busy, your detaching did not go unnoticed. Neither did the fact that you were never little. The longest you’ve able to stay big was a week, but now it was going on three.

Finally, one day when you were off they sat you down on the couch for a talk.

“Y/N, did we do something?” Namjoon was the first to speak and the heartbreak in his voice caught you off guard.

“What?” You asked confused. That’s when you noticed how hurt they all looked. They weren’t pouting, more like sulking.

“You’ve just been distant lately. Always at work and always tired when you come home..” Hobi stated with a cautious voice as you swallowed a lump of guilt.

You hadn’t told them anything. You didn’t want them dealing with your work problems when they had their own. They had always fixed your problems to begin with, you could handle a bully on your own.

“You must be confusing me with Yoongi.” You spoke in a flat voice. You were trying to play it off as a joke but it didn’t come out right. Still, it amused Jin who let out a chuckle.

“Okay well you also haven’t slipped.” Taehyung spoke in a matter-of-factly tone which quickly made the room quiet and tense.

“I haven’t noticed..” you mumbled it obviously being a lie as you looked down at the couch.

“Really? Or did you just think we wouldn’t notice?” Jungkook corrected you quickly with a bitter tone. The words caught you off guard as you made eye contact with him. He looked sad but worried for you.

“Y/N we aren’t just your caregivers, we’re friends. Tell us what’s wrong?” Yoongi’s usual rough voice turned soft which made you shiver and shift uncomfortably in your seat. You couldn’t slip, not now.

This also didn’t go unnoticed and they suddenly had a new plan using only their eyes to confirm.

“Nothing.” You denied again.

“What’s wrong, angel? Why are you lying to us?” Jimin asked with an intention pleading tone.

Your eyes widen in realization. They were trying to get you to slip. But it far to late now.

“I’m not~” you said again in a more whiny tone as you slouched back on the couch. The warm fuzziness in your stomach was too strong to ignore this time. Especially when Tae started to pull you into his lap and stroke your hair.

The more you tried to fight the urge the more your head started to hurt. Flashbacks on your job clouded your mind as you started to cry. That’s when you broke.

“It’s okay princess.” Jungkook soothed you, using his hand to wipe your tears. “Let’s get you into some fuzzy clothes and a pull up.” He proposed taking you off of Jimin’s lap and into his arms as he headed to your room.

Not wanting to crowd you, the rest of them stayed downstairs while Jungkook whispered sweet things to you as he changed you into a comfortable onesie.

When you were back downstairs Jin had already prepared some small snacks for you along with a juice box.

“Baby, something’s made you distant and sad.” Namjoon stated once he had finished the snack and were sipping on the juice box. “We want to help you, but you have to let us okay?”

You nodded, taking a minute to form your words before speaking. “At work. Boss lady mean.” You whispered which immediately made them frown.

“What does boss lady say?” Tae asked with a worried expression as he held your hand while you were bouncing on Hobi’s lap.

“She say littles are dumb.” Tears formed in your eyes as you thought back at her mean shouting. “She yell and tug when I make messes. She no like littles.”

You could feel Yoongi hold you tighten on your hand when you continued as the boys all shared the same looks at each other. The ‘someone is getting fired’ look.

“Am I dumb?” You asked them when they went silent as your lip quivered.

“Absolutely not!” Jungkook immediately answered. “Boss lady doesn’t know what she’s talking about. You are a gift.” He continued in a strong voice. He was trying not to get to angry in front of you but his blood boiled at the thought of someone saying these things to you.

“Why didn’t you tell us this was happening baby? We would of helped you before it got to bad.” Jimin asked with a frown while he tried to maintain eye contact with you.

“I wanted to fix it myshelf.” You state in a low voice, feeling disappointed.

“It’s okay. You can be independent. It’s just when things get to bad you have to tell us.” Hobi told you softly but in a firm tone to know he was serious and you nodded.

“We’re gonna make sure she never does it again.” Tae reassured you with a head pat but you just frowned. “I can’t work?” You asked.

“You can still work sweetie. We know how much you like earning money and how relaxed you are when you work.” Jin reassured you with a gentle smile.

“It’s however the fuck boss lady is that can’t work anymore.” Yoongi mumbled angrily but it only caused you to smile.

“Swear.” You giggled and pointing as the rest of them glared at Yoongi. You loved when Yoongi swore around you, simply because he wasn’t supposed to. You grinned whenever he got scolded or smacked by Jin. Yoongi just ignored the looks and lightly chuckled, your giggles making him slightly less mad.

Once everything was settled the boys immediately had someone on the phone with your manager and she was fired only three days later.

So you vowed to yourself to tell them if anything was bothering you again.

Victory | namjoon

➭ summary: in which Namjoon is a wolf hybrid who has a dark past with humans that ultimately landed him in a boxing ring, so he tries his very hardest to hate every single one of them. Even his mate, who happens to be a human nurse who works for the boxing ring. But everything changes when he finds you bleeding out with marks all around you..

➭genre: hybrid x reader, drabble, angst, mate au

➭warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of killing, he gets protective real quick, hybrid abuse, a couple had words, the ending…

➭note: finals week Tuesday. i hate everything

“You’re winner, by knockout. RM!” Muffled cheers filled his stiff bloody wolf ears as the announcer dramatically swung his arm in the air.

No one cared about the other unconscious hybrid who was in a pool of his own blood on the other side of the cage. RM didn’t either. It wouldn’t be the first time he would have killed someone in the ring. The only thing he cared about was victory. The victory that would land him dinner and a day off.

Despite it being in his stage name, RM wasn’t a monster. He wasn’t always like this. He used to care about other things before he was shoved into the cage. Forced to entertain and damage himself and other for human entertainment.

RM spit out a wad of blood that had gathered in his mouth. He didn’t smile at the cheers, because they weren’t necessarily for him. It was for the people who had won money from bets.

“Alright let’s go.” A nasty shriveled male voice told him over the screams as he was yanked by the air and dragged by two men with vest and face masks to his room.

RM thought they were bold for their harsh movements. He had just beaten a lion hybrid to a plump, surely he could take them out. They should respect him. But the taser had boosted their ego. Tasers did damage, especially after a bloody match. That was the only thing stopping RM from clawing their face off as they shoved him in his small room.

Unlike when he lost, he was put in a room with lights. There was a semi-comfortable bed and old tv. That’s what winners get. A bed, tv and dinner. Losers get a dark black cold space where you sit and are placed on a list till a nurse sees you.

Since this was RM’s fifth win in a row he was placed higher on the list and his nurse came only thirty minutes later.

He could smell you as you came down the hall. Your calm and sweet scent filled his nostrils rather quickly. It always stood out from the other nurses. One of the reasons were that unlike you, other nurses hated treating such a beast like himself. They always smelled nervous and afraid.

Of course another main reason was that your scent was stronger than anyone else’s to him. Simply because you were his mate. There was no other way around it. His wolf had practically screamed it at him the first time you came to treat him. He’d never forget the upset and startled look on your face when he had suddenly jumped away from you with a growl.

You didn’t treat him that day, but he made a promise to never frighten you again. Instead he’d stay still while you treated him, answering your questions about his lungs or feet when you needed him too. It started a habit of you blabbering to him, either about his match or things on your mind. Human Namjoon wouldn’t admit it, but something inside calmed him whenever you spoke. There was a sense of calmness from you that transferred to him whenever you talked for to long.

Which was exactly what you did the minute you entered the room.

“Good evening, Namjoon.” You said with a sweet voice as you peeked your head through the door. Once you saw his familiar muscular build you came in, shutting the door.

He silently bowed to you, something in him telling him to be respectful. Like everyone else you had a taser on you but never used it. For you, it was as if it wasn’t attached to your hip. And unlike everyone else, you didn’t call him RM. You called him his actual name. How you found out he didn’t know.

“Congrats on the win.” You said once your light body hit the edge of the bed. “I heard a bunch of people doubting you. That you could never get up to five wins in a row, especially against a lion hybrid.” Your voice was mocking as you playfully rolled your eyes at whoever you were talking about.

“But I didn’t doubt you..” there was proudness in your tone and your words made him tense. He shouted at his wolf not to dance because of your praise. “You know you could beat the record for most wins in a row. It’s only seven.”

It was always weird how you were so comfortable about the fact that he almost tortured people for a living. So comfortable around him when he had almost killed a man a half hour ago.

He always wondered how you got yourself mixed into the mess. You could have been a doctor with your skills. So why weren’t you?

He tried not to dwell to much on you. Caring for humans almost killed him. He couldn’t make the same mistake, even if you were different.

“I can’t believe they haven’t gotten you your dinner yet.” You stated as you treated his knuckles. He didn’t flinch at the alcohol that poured onto his cuts before your wrapped it.

“Anything hurt? Teeth? Lungs? Feet? Legs? Tail?” You asked him routinely as you held up a water bottle. Without asking, Namjoon opened his mouth as you poured the water into his mouth. He stared at you curiously as you filled some water in his mouth before stopping.

He didn’t swallow it, swishing the water around his sore mouth before spitting it into a plastic cup that you were now holding. Water and a bit of blood came back.

“No pain.” He spoke for the first time, his voice coming back rough and deep as you hummed. “That’s a relief.” You whispered and he looked down, trying to keep his emotions in check. Why did you care so much about his condition? Probably because he was making you money no less.

“I’ll cry the day you break a bone.” You huffed and his ears twitched. You had been saying things that hinted you cared about him lately. He didn’t believe you, not for a second. But it still caught him off guard. And somehow, he did not like the thought of your beautiful doe eyes being red from crying. He’d have to be extra careful.

“Why would you cry?” He couldn’t help but ask. You were a nurse for God’s sake. You even treated the people he beat. Why would him breaking a bone be so horrible?

“I don’t know, I’ve never been good with seeing friends or people I know hurt. My dad came home with a broken leg once and I almost threw up.” You answered unfazed by his sudden interest. But this made him more curious. Friend? Were they friends? Maybe he was overreacting.

You talked about your dad sometimes. Not a bunch but more than you talked about your mother, which surprised him since you were so girlish and respectful. Who taught you that if not a mother?

“This’ll hurt.” You state before putting some alcohol on a cut that was on his forehead. It stung a little, but he didn’t flinch. He just watched your concentrated face as you worked your magic. He could admit that you were pretty, but even pretty humans couldn’t be trusted.

“I don’t know why but, I feel more comfortable around you than the other hybrids. Like, warm and fuzzy.. Is that weird?” You suddenly spoke as you planted a small bandaid on the cut.

Namjoon didn’t answer, instead he just looked away shamefully. No, it wasn’t weird. It was because they were mates. They were bonding. Namjoon had let his guard down and bonded with his human mate.

—————————

Two days later, he got his sixth win.

There were louder cheers when he won this match. He could tell people were getting more hype the more he fought. Your words came back to him. The thought of beating the record on everyone’s minds. The bullied rookie no longer stood. People no longer booed when he won. They screamed and blasted confetti. He didn’t know why, but he had become a fan favorite.

But still, you were his biggest fan of them all. You practically came skipping into the room forty minutes after the win. He could smell your excitement down the hall, but something else he could sense in your smell.

Another hybrid. Male. Lion.

His wolf hated it. He hated it. The smell made his nose burn and the thought of some other hybrid being all over his mate made his jaw clench. Especially a Lion.

“Good evening, superstar.” You greeted him with a smile, despite his nasty expression. “Everyone’s talking about you breaking the record. No pressure but I’d be big if you do. Just one more and you’ll tie and that’s already a huge accomplishment.” You we’re quick to ramble this time as you sat at the edge of the bed.

He hesitated to meet you at the edge like usual. He’d go crazy if he smelt more lion. You noticed and frowned as you looked at him with a confused expression.

“You stink.” He answered your wordless question with in a rough and disgusted tone. He could fight through a lot of things (literally) but not this. It was actually starting to make him ill in the chest.

“I took a shower this morning..” you mumbled to yourself taking your confused eyes away from him to look down at your visible skin.

You wore a tight pink shirt and paired it with a medium length white skirt that somehow wasn’t stained. A skinny black belt held it all together that matched the flats you wore. No wonder a lion had scented you. He bit the inside of his injured cheek in rage. Someone had marked you their territory.

“No. Like lion.” He clarified in a deep voice. He couldn’t let you be walking around here with everyone thinking you belonged to someone you didn’t.

“Oh.” You chirped as if suddenly realizing something. You had forgotten hybrids keen sense of smell. “Jay was extra close today..” you uttered. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Extra close his ass. He seemed to be all over you.

“If it bothers you that much…you have permission to scent me.” You suddenly offer in a low voice as he watched blush creep up to your cheeks. He doesn’t know why you offered, or how you even know that’s what he wanted to do. But he doesn’t take a second to think about it.

He scoots himself so his directly behind you while you’re at the edge of the bed. He wraps his arms around you and settles his interlocks hands on your stomach. He hesitates before taking in the little of your original smell that he can sense before planting his face on your neck.

He sits there for a while. He can obviously feel how nervous you had become so he takes a while to let you cool down. He lets himself get lost in the warm feeling of holding you like a mate should. He gets lost in the fantasy that maybe things can work. And when he notices that you’ve calmed down too, he begins to nuzzle his face into your neck.

He can sense how shy your getting but he moves slow not going lower than your shoulders until he finally forced himself to move away.

What the fuck was he doing? Snuggling up to some human girl he didn’t even know. Human girls like you abused him every chance they got. Did he forget about the taser locked to your side. How could his wolf betray him like this? How could he put himself in danger? You worked for the boxing ring that abused his kind. As sweet and innocent as you seemed, you couldn’t be that innocent.

He sat there in silence for the rest of the check up in silence. For the first time he didn’t listen to you rambling about the match or your childhood stories.

He was trying to fix the damage he had caused.

—————————

Two days later he got his seventh win in a row.

He knew you would be thrilled and despite everything, he was looking forward to your praise. He knew you would be proud of him, even if he didn’t officially past the record yet.

At one point in the match he started fighting for you rather than his survival. His mind was stuck on you the entire match. Once he felt like he was losing, he thought about how disappointed you would be in him. How much you were rooting for him and wanted him to succeed. How much he needed to see you happy again. That was enough to have him win the match.

And when his opponent had the audacity to land a punch on his stomach… He killed him.

And like any other time. He didn’t care. He cared about the victory. And he would do it again if he had to.

He was so wrapped up in his own mind that he hadn’t realized a unfamiliar person had made their way to his room until the person knocked on the door.

His body stiffened.

You never knock on the door. You poked your head through first, but never full on knocked. He always wondered why you don’t. It was almost like you knew that he knew about your presence.

Something snapped in him when he realized your sweet scent was no where to he found. Instead someones terrified scent replaced you and it made him crazy. He knew your schedule. Including you, there were only three nurses. You worked the days he fought, another nurse worked the days he didn’t. And another nurse for the weekends.

You were scheduled today so where were you? He asked himself angrily.

“Where’s Y/N?” He asked in a firm and deep voice. Not giving the person any permission to enter.

“I-I don’t know. She didn’t show up today.” The female voice answers in a shaky tone. This doesn’t make him any less angrier or anxious. “I’m subbing till she shows up.”

You were missing. You had disappeared and instead of looking for you they replaced you with some weak idiot. He quickly got worried and protective. Wherever you were you needed to get found now. And he wasn’t counting on humans to find you. With their horrible sense it would take days to find you and he wasn’t willing to go that long without knowing you were okay. Not after he let his wolf bond with you.

Despite it being forbidden to leave the room, and he would most liking be spotted by the hundreds of cameras he quickly decided he had to find you himself. He didn’t care about the victory anymore. He didn’t care about breaking the record. He cared about you.

He stood up from the bed and it was easy for him to swing open the locked door, not even having to use his claws to tar through the lock. The woman’s eyes widen in shock when his tall huff figure was suddenly in front of her.

“Use that taser and your dead by the time the buzzing stops.” He threatens her with a low and assertive tone. He doesn’t give the poor nurse time to reply. He knew he scared her enough and with how shaky her hands were she would probably miss him anyways.

Now, he just had to find you before they found him.

Despite it being one of the biggest illegal hybrid boxing organizations, the building was small. There were three levels, the main level, the security/employee level and the basement. The basement consisted of the loser rooms and mostly plumbing and electrical wires. The security system and employee work stations were the highest level. The main level consisted of the main area and the winner rooms.

And then there was outside.

Somewhere Namjoon and the other prisoners were forbidden. It was impossible to make it outside anyways. The guards that had guns instead of taser, combined with the electric fence made it clear that anyone who tried to escape would be dealt with.

Namjoon had heard many stories about great fighters who died trying to escape. The place made hybrids insane. But the only thing that seemed to make Namjoon insane was the fact that you were missing. He would step outside if you were there.

Namjoon had just gotten done searching most of the first floor when he smells it. Your scent. It’s faint and sour but it’s you. Something in him tells him to follow it.

Now, it’s a race. A race for Namjoon to find you before they capture him. Because he knows that by now they have noticed him frantically searching everywhere for you on the camera. A huge wolf hybrid roaming around was sure to catch eyes.

He follows the scent, desperate to find out what was wrong and it leads him to the basement. This was his least favorite place to be, but he quickly enters anyways.

There’s an open hallway that leads to the loser cage, and to the right leads him to all the plumbing. Despite how horrible it smelt, your scent got stronger.

His ears perk when he can now smell blood in your scent. Pools of blood. Your scent isn’t just sour anymore, he can smell your fear. It was so strong it felt like your scent was calling out to him.

He quickly changes his pace from speed walking, to fill on sprinting down the hallway and to the right. The plumbing room is more like a corner it’s so small, so he quickly sees your bloody figure laid flat on the floor.

His face turns red as his heart thumps and for the first time in years he’s feels like he might die. He can barely breathe and his body becomes shaky.

He quickly runs to you, plopping down on his knees and taking you in his lap. He can see your face now, which is dangerously pale and filled with scars and bruises.

You can barely lift up your eyes to look at him, but when you do a small painful smile makes it’s way to your face. “Joon…” you manage to say in a shaky voice.

“Who did this? I need a name, a species, a smell for fucks sake.” He growls and he doesn’t realize he is in tears till one falls on your face.

“Please, don’t do anything crazy.” You plead when you see the absolute rage and heartbreak expression on his face, his hands wrapping around you tighter as he holds you close.

“I have already,” he states again to your confused face and he swallows a lump in his throat before answering. “I accepted you as my mate.” He reveals with a shaky voice.

Your eyes widen and you slowly lift up your hand to caress his face and wipe his tears. He grabs your hand, bringing it to his chest. “So tell me, who did this to you so they can hurt as much as they hurt us.” He says again and you open your mouth to reply to him but something behind him quickly steals your attention.

You let out a gasp as your eyes widen and filled with terror. Just as he realizes a bunch of heavy footsteps have made their way into the small space you yell.

“No, wait! Please! He didn’t do it—!“

Before you can explain and anyone can take in your words, three tranquilizer darts are suddenly shot into Namjoon’s back.

His body stills and tenses up before his eyes roll to the back of his head and he collapses into your blood pool.

Your cries are the last thing you both hear before the world turns black and cold.