Baby Omega|| BTS x MYG

32

⚠️Warning: mentions of abuse (mental, emotional and physical), rape, sexual harassment and foul language (swearing)!⚠️

This chapter is important in the structure of Yoongi's character, reading would improve your understanding of his character.
I'd advise those sensitive to these topics to not to read this chapter alongside the following chapter. I'm very sorry to those who cannot indulge into this part of the storyline due to such mature subjects.

Also I apologise for this chapter bei later than intended I have barely slept again all this week and have had tons of essays to complete. If there are any mistakes please ignore them, my proofreading was fairly scarce as I am extremely exhausted. The next chapter will be published within a weeks time.

I hope you enjoy💜💜

The problem is being in that situation is demeaning. But, returning back to that state of vulnerability again after thinking you had escaped a long time ago is terrifying, mortifying even.

Jang has that same shit-eating grin that his father had, that the alphas of his old pack had. The faces he tried so hard to forget. With wiry brows and greasy wrinkles. Distinct glares of the narrow eyes that followed his every move. Or the young alphas that looked kind in the face, but the eyes were merciless. The roaming hands he had burned away from his senses, his delicate skin.

The milky skin that would be a cacophony of colours every hour of every day. Every second his body would ache. The instruments of pounding fists belonging to the orchestra of towering bodies that would harass him at every opportunity provided.

He could never escape the restraints of his pack. His father. The power that man blossomed over his soul was immense. Such intensity over his every move, every inhalation, every exhalation, were all under the reign of the malicious being.

There were times where he could barely breathe, where his blood only just managed to scrape through its circulatory pattern, where he was almost left for dead.

Always returning to the safe-haven known as his room to confide in the chipped paint, praying and hoping for an ounce of protection in the cupboard sized room.

That room. That god forsaken room. Practically bare. A pale cream colour inhabited the four walls. The same colour set for the dodgy floor boards. Nails sticking out and creaky. There was never much furniture in there. A sad looking mattress in the corner on the floor with a stained pillow and pathetic blanket-looking duvet. Accompanied by a small chest of drawers with barely any clothes to occupy the space.

He had a small lamp rested upon the dodgy wooden structure as his only source of light. Unless you count the small rays that invade through the gaps in the wooden borders on the window. Only appearing due to his feeble attempts to escape the place he calls 'home'.

That small closet sized room was his safe place. Safe from the sadistic beings that roamed around day and night.

He could never stay in the room long. Simply not allowed to be safe for so long, no that would've been too kind and generous, his father's orders he supposed. That knock on his door at 7AM brought down a melancholic feeling to his chest. Knowing what he will have to face once he exits that door. The adrenaline that sprints throughout his nerves and the sinking feeling in his gut caused by the fear of what may happen once he leaves the room.

Some days it wasn't much he'd have to face. Just occasional gropes or slaps. He would be left with a small sting and a swamp of disgust in himself. Completing his everyday general chores of forced labour, before he could read in the library.

He loved that library. Extremely grand shelves of mahogany brown, each shelf packed with books ranging in a multitude of colours, some fancy, some old and some childlike. Where no one would bother him. It was the only thing his father respected in excuse that he wouldn't allow his pathetic son to become a delinquent. He had a kind of teacher back then. Someone who would explain things that he didn't understand in the books he would read. Although he preferred the fairytales, he'd never really be allowed to read them. Instead focusing on more academic books or philosophical. Probably why he loves storytimes so mich now.

He wasn't allowed to talk back then either. Ever since he was young, his father and other pack members would remind him he should never speak unless told to. A sick way of reminding him though. Sometimes it was just physical pain he received. A slap or a pinch, nothing too extreme especially as he was so young, although it still really hurt.

Others... it was more mental focused. Having the older women touch him inappropriately. It was never full intercourse thankfully but, it was still wrong and highly uncomfortable telling him he couldn't tell anyone, that he was just a pathetic toy. He believed it too.

Tears weren't allowed either. If he were to shed a tear to any of the male alphas and their punishments, he would receive lashings or burns with a cigarette. Using him like a personal ashtray.

As he got older it only got worse. Now he would get beatings if things weren't done adequately to a superior's standards. He was basically the punching bag of the pack. He would only ever receive the scraps as his source of nourishment, meaning he was too weak to withstand much abuse.

He had a small light though. He was finally able to go to school after begging his father for five years. At age 13, he was granted permission to attend school. He was fairly intelligent in school courses after spending so much time in the library as a young child. He could write fairly well, replacing the fact he struggled to form words, after not being allowed to speak for so long. He never really learnt how to say much at all. Just small phrases and short words, the basics. Thankfully his school was kind enough to not force him to speak out.

He first met Jimin when he moved up classes, as his abilities were slightly higher than others in music. Jimin was a very friendly boy. He would be quiet and patient with Yoongi no matter how shy and silent he was. Music definitely became his favourite class after that encounter.

Over the course of two weeks, Jimin had managed to get him to speak his first willing words. Not waiting for permission before talking to him. Jimin was surprised, thinking the boy was actually mute, but instead helped him learn to pronounce words. It was cute. Yoongi had an adorable slur and speech impediment on his R's with the words he would learn. Thankfully Yoongi was a fast learner, although would opt for whispering or small muttering instead of talking loudly.

He steadily advanced in his educational studies, becoming quite smart with what he knew. The library still his favourite place to visit, excited to tell Jimin a new random fact for the day that would blow his mind away. He shocked face always caused Yoongi to giggle at him.

Unfortunately his home life didn't get any better. He would still get abused physically and sexually. However, now his father had joined in. Laying a few punches onto the fragile boy. Sometimes involving a bat or a glass bottle. He would obtain numerous injuries but continue on in school like nothing had happened.

Until one day. His father had a new client. He never knew what the business was but it must've been horrible. He father had offered him to the new client to use. He was terrified. His father sat in the room drinking a beer as he watched a disgusting man by the name of Kyle have his way with him. Raping and torturing his son. It was the first time Yoongi truly screamed, cried, begged, pleaded, clawed, fought, struggled back against what someone was doing to him.

Beforehand he would accept the roaming hands, knowing he couldn't stop them. This time he couldn't stop it. But he wanted it to stop. No one pushed the limit that far yet. This man. This repugnant man pushed every limit. The abuse was worse than ever before. Cutting his arms and legs with a small pocketknife and then sexually assaulting him. He lost his virginity aged 14.

From then on his father and the man would have frequent "sessions" in his father's office. His body would be tortured and used. The same amount of pain each time. His father sometimes joined in to get his dick wet and then finish while watching the show, or poor alcohol in the open gashes on his body. Some self inflicted, others given by the evil man.

A/N: I love reading some of your guys' comments, they're absolutely hilarious and sweet. Thankyou for putting up with me and this book so far!🥺💜