Little Omega

Little Omega

BTS

Kim Taehyung/Reader [F]

Genre: Drabble, Alpha/Beta/Omega (A/O), Mentions of Sexy Times

Words:1.8k

A.22 - “Why would you think something like that?”

Though you were the proper, true mate to your packs Alpha, here you sat, covering your ears trying to block out his thoughts that echoed in your head.  The thoughts rolling through his head unconsciously into yours as he put a different she-wolf beta through her paces. 

Keep reading

“DON’T CARE IF IT HURTS MASTERLIST 

Summary: After a rival gang makes an attempt on your life, Your older brother, the infamous leader of Seoul’s largest gang; Kim Namjoon, gets you a guard hybrid; Park Jimin, The reigning champion of Seoul’s underground hybrid fighting ring.

(Hybrid! Park Jimin x Reader) (unrequited! Jung Hoseok x Reader) (Kim Namjoon x Kim Seokjin)

✥ PROFILES MOODBOARD SERIES: ✥ MIN YOONGI ✥ JEON JUNGKOOK ✥ KIM TAEHYUNG ✥ JUNG HOSEOK ✥ KIM SEOKJIN ✥ PARK JIMIN ✥ KIM Y/N ✥ KIM NAMJOON ✥

INSPIRATION POST( CAUTION: SPOILERS)  

PART 1: “I want you to protect her.”

PART 2: “I’d much rather have a friend.” 

PART 3: “They call him the Monster.”

PART 4 “I’ll always keep your head above water.” 

PART 5: “See you later Hellhound.”

PART 6:  “You promised me a dance.”

PART 7:  “A declaration of war.” 

PART 8:  “If I were a human man, could you love me?”

PART 9: “Just in case.”

PART 10: “Carry that weight” 

PART 11: “When you’re gone.” 

PART 12:  “Good Things” 

EPILOGUE: “Will you marry me?” 

PROLOGUE SHORTS SERIES (Hoseok x Reader)

(1) Sweet Lies and Bitter Truths 

Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell series index

Summary: When you were ten, Taehyung adopted you and gave you a home. Now that you’re eighteen, the sudden change in your scent perplexes and confounds him.

Pairing: wolf hybrid!tae x human!reader (all bts members are hybrids)

Warnings: smut | talk of ownership (reader is tae’s pet human) | daddy long legs syndrome | extensive discussion about the dynamics of consent | will add as i go along

Chapter 1 

Chapter 2

Misotheism Part I

Genre: Drama

Word Count: 1000ish 

Greek God AU! Series 

‘Misotheism (n): the hatred of God’

December 31st, 11:59 PM

635 B.C.

You’re running.

The night is silent, save for the sound of bare feet slapping against the slightly wet soil, leaving a trail of imprints behind them. Your chest heaves as you struggle to run, and you can’t help the terror coursing through your veins as you hear the sound of heavy footsteps behind you.

What had made it come to this?

March, 635 B.C.

You sigh tiredly as you squint up to the sky, cursing at the sun for beating down your back with vigor. The sky is clear overhead, with the occasional shadows of birds flitting across it.

“What’s got you down, Y/N?”

You look to the right to see a crookedly grinning young man quirking a brow at you.

“Silence, Yun,” Your mood is admittedly down, “You’re being a pest.”

“So mean, sister,” He mocks you playfully, hand running through his silky dark tresses that you swear were created by Athena herself, “I’ve only come to call you back to our home; Mother is looking for you.”

“Again?” You groan in exasperation, “What does she want this time?”

He gives a non-committal shrug of the shoulders.

“She just told me to search for you and I, like the absolutely fantastic person I am, have done it.” With a smug smile, he waves you off and you roll your eyes, before sighing yet again and trudging along the dusty trail to your home.

It’s small, much smaller than those huge villas you’ve seen dominate the inner parts of the city and though a part of you still feels bitter about it, you’ve learned to make do with what you have. It’s your life; you need to deal with it, as your Father says.

“Mother?” You call, ducking into your tiny rickety home, mindful of the pots dumped haphazardly on the cool ground, “You called for me?”

A frail woman peeks her head out from the tiny kitchen-come-dining, a thin smile playing on her lips.

“Oh yes, dear,” She beckons you forward, and you oblige, only to gape in shock when an entire platter of grilled goat’s meat and fruits is thrust into your unprepared arms, “Could you take this to the inner city for me? I’m feeling awfully tired today.”

“W-what for?” You demand, wide-eyed, unable to tear your eyes from the food, “Why aren’t we eating this?”

Mother smiles at you, though it lacks the warmth it usually possesses.

“We are going to war, my dear,” She whispers softly, and it strikes you then, “We must please the God of War.”

“No,” You angrily shake your head, vision beginning to tint blood red, “If we are going to war, we must fight it with our own hands, Mama, not by sacrificing the precious few resources we have for-”

“Enough!” She raises her voice, and you fall silent, knowing that the conversation is complete. “Do as I say, Y/N! I should never have encouraged your silly little beliefs!”

The last part is whispered to herself, but you hear every word; each one strikes you like an icicle through the heart. Your Mother is someone you have always looked up to, someone who you have always gone to for comfort, for understanding, so her disappointment…it hurts you, a lot.

“Yes, Mother.” You nod quietly, before turning on your heel and scampering out of the shack.

Your feet carry you automatically in the direction of the city and, even at the outskirts, you can see people preparing for war; throngs of men sharpening their swords, some men stocking their homes with necessities, such as food. Some women are dancing around a fire, grilling meat. And, sitting in solitude on a lonely rock is a young girl, who eyes the meat with hungry, desperate eyes.

A rush of anger courses through you, thrumming through your veins and heating them up. You remember a time when you were that girl, when you so hopefully, naively, believed in the Gods; when you, like countless others, fell for those foolish tales.

But you know better now.

Cautiously eyeing the crowd, you approach the girl, slipping her some meat from your plate; she looks up, startled, before breaking out into a bright grin.

“Thank you!” She exclaims cheerfully, and you beam back at her, happy to help, before you bid her adieu and are on course again.

A strange sort of guilt gnaws at you, but you push it aside in favor of trying to bear with the scintillating heat. It is really hot right now.

 You nearly collapse in relief when you finally reach the temple of War God, but your heart nearly stops when you see just how many people are outside it. It would likely take till midnight to reach the inside, and you’re in no patience to deal with such things. You decide to visit a lesser known sight, one that is mostly hidden from the scathing gazes of the city folk.

The small temple stands proudly at the top of a sloped hill; though it is a struggle, you eventually manage to scale it, thankfully not dropping any of the food.

Setting the platter in front of the deity, you awkwardly step back, having absolutely no idea what to do now.

“Um,” You start off hesitantly, “My Mother asked me to bring this to you, I suppose. For the war and all that. But I think that’s plain foolishness; who would know if you actually exist? We’ve been taught so many stories by now, but they’re just that: stories.

“If you Gods really existed, our people wouldn’t be suffering like this! If you actually existed, I wouldn’t need to be here right now, I wouldn’t have to waste such precious food on something that doesn’t even eat!”

By this time, you’re shaking, anger racing through your heart, breathing rapidly, unevenly.

“I hate this! I hate feeling so powerless, I hate feeling so puny! I hate-”

You freeze when you feel a hand grip your shoulder, your eyes impossibly wide.

“You hate me?” A velvety voice chuckles into your ear, the hot puffs of breath hitting the shell of your ear, “Are you certain?”

You slowly turn around, raising your eyes to meet amused, fiery brown eyes. The man is tall, at least compared to you, with dark hair swept to the side, and bright pink lips that contrast oh-so-wonderfully with his pale skin. Not that you’re looking.

“Who are you?” You stumble backwards hastily, nearly tripping over your gown, “Where did you come from?”

“Why, I thought you’d know me, considering how you were just cursing my existence,” The man smiles, revealing pearly white teeth.

“But I’ll spell it out for you, if that is what you require. I go by Άρης, but mortals know me as Jungkook,” The smile transforms into a smirk, “God of War.”

Next Parts:  Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII

Written by: Admin Midnight

Admin Midnight is working on this series with Admin Sangria [her wife ♥] who’ll be writing future parts with her! 

We hope you like it!

too hot to sleep. (m)

# pairing. fiancé!yoongi x reader

# genre. established relationship au, humor, fluff, smut.

# word count. 2.4k

# warning(s). fluff, reader doesn’t like cats yoongi’s cat, smut [marriage kink(?), unprotected kitchen sex, small hint of yoongi having a possession kink]. \ will be edited at a later time so my apologizes for any mistakes

# a/n. this was originally supposed to be a drabble but i liked the prompt a lot…so this is the cute fluffy version but i’m also MAYBE gonna write a uh…rougher version. i tried to write an impreg kink since that shit is mad hot but it wasn’t working out for me :(

↳ summary. “ Umm can’t wait to get rawed in our kitchen when I’m living with the love of my life ” *soft ver.*

“You never listen to me,” you whisper to your fiancé’s sleeping figure, “I ask you to pick up the air conditioner on your way home from work,” you shove his shoulder in an attempt to wake him up, “but instead, you buy a new bed for your demon cat.”

Yoongi stirs in his sleep, turning himself to face the bedroom window. You can’t help but get annoyed at the fact even when he’s sleeping, your fiancé barely istens to you. Every ounce of annoyance fades away the moment you hear the soft sound of Yoongi smacking his lips together, a habit he developed whenever he was in the midst of a deep sleep. Even unconscious, he was still the cutest thing you had ever seen.

But, nevertheless, it was too hot for you to sleep. Your growling stomach also proves you’re otherwise too hungry to sleep as well.

Keep reading

Show Me Your Teeth

Pairing: BTS Jimin  ⇆ Reader

Genre: Rottweiler Hybrid | FBI | Fluff | Angst | Eventual Smut |

Summary: Hybrids were common amongst civilians, but monsters lurked, created by the government. H.O.U.N.D, pronounced hound, is Hybrid Operation in United Negotiation of Defense, an allegiance of hybrids and federal officers. They were weapons breed for tactic and war. Special agent Y/L/N came back marked a failure after your secret last mission. Politics involved, you were to be assigned a Hound officer. What happens when the monster, Cerberus, gets assigned to you?    

Word: 11.6K

Rating: Mature; Explicit themes, mentions of guns, PTSD episode, possessive behavior, gunshot wounds, cruel behavior, torture, abuse, bullying, crude and discriminatory language. If I’ve missed any tags let me know.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I’ve been working on this for a few weeks and I hope you enjoy it. Originally a oneshot, now a twoshot. Lightly edited, please be kind.  

| Masterlist | Final

Lowering your hand from your brow you waited until you were signaled to ease. The hardened expression of the Director followed from the crumpled document on his desk to you, he gestured silently for you to sit. Carefully maneuvering your left arm as you sat down in one of the leather seats in front of his oversized desk. The mahogany desk was in a state of semi-cluttered, several stacks of papers yet the items closets to you were impeccable. His gold plaque with his name proudly written was polished as it gleamed.

Politics, the size was compensating for something.

Keep reading