The outbreak decimated civilizations across the globe.
It wasn't really a question as to why, or how it happened so quickly. Not really. The dead rose, and the world fell into anarchy. Governments collapsed. Billions died, millions rose again to wreck havoc, to kill, to eat once again and fill their stomachs full of mindless slop that even they couldn't truly process. Packs formed, alphas and betas at the helm. Creating safety. Creating something one could mistake for congruent.
Through all of it, you managed to stay safe. You managed to stay alone. To keep away from society when you knew the real threat to your safety wasn't the zombies, but other people. Other people desperate for omegas, for one of the last omegas alive after the infection practically cleared their population. 10 years. You had made it 10 years going unnoticed, acting as a shadow. 10 years of staying safe from everyone. Safe from them.
It's too bad the summer rain will always burn against your skin.
Seven alphas. One omega that catches their eye. Too many miscalculations made. You're screwed.
— ⌬ INFORMATION
ㄨ : series warnings: alpha!bts, omega!reader, yandere/toxic/insane bts, omega scarcity, mild gore, death of zombies, poly characters, eventual smut, survival thriller, bts are obsessed with you, omegas are treated poorly (referenced omega abuse), fluff, angst, smut, pack dynamics, pack bonding, manipulation, anarchy, shooting guns, knives, other weapons, forced proximity, hiding of second genders, home invasion, panic attacks, referenced mating cycles/in rut, size kink, poly!bts, they want you really bad tho, love at first sight, light knife play, conflict between pack mates (physical and verbal), more to be added as chapters progress :3
ㄨ : chapter warnings available on each chapter!
ㄨ : updates at least once per month around the 15th!
— ⌬ EXTRAS
ㄨ : mosty non cannon unless stated otherwise! just for fun
character profiles | sr cast as arirang tracks | sr boys' kinks
— ⌬ INDEX
ACT I
I : Fucked.
ㄨ : You and Jeon Jeongguk are so terribly fucked for separate, though entirely related reasons.
II : Secrets We Keep.
ㄨ : When the world falls into ruin, everyone has a little bit of normalcy they find to keep them sane.
||| : Counting Water Like It’s Sheep.
ㄨ : The universe may put things into action, but it is the will of humans to decide what to do with it.
IV : If the Universe Wills It.
ㄨ : Predications upon predated notions always result in implosion. Well, it is all for the better, isn't it? As long as it brings you closer to them, sacrifices must be made.
V : The Big Bang.
ㄨ : The big bang signified the universes creation, but also it's destruction. Regardless of the side of history you lie on, you are the catalyst either way.
VI : -> coming soon.
ACT II
VII+ : -> coming soon.
ㄨ : ahh!! okay, here she is. if you’ve been on my blog for a bit, you know i’ve been talking about this series for a few months!! i’ve been updating it monthly on my ao3, but i really want it over here too. i hope you guys will be along for the ride with me <33 pls scream about this fic with me it is dear to my heart
I’ve wanted to do this for a while, so here it is! It took some time, but it was necessary for me to better organise everything. It will keep being updated. I hope it can help anyone find fics they like. Also, I would like to thank all those amazing authors for giving us such amazing stories! Happy reading🫶🏾
I’ve wanted to do this for a while, so here it is! It took some time, but it was necessary for me to better organise everything. It will keep being updated. I hope it can help anyone find fics they like. Also, I would like to thank all those amazing authors for giving us such amazing stories! Happy reading🫶🏾
saw quite a lot of tiktoks say this, this is canon
"Zuko... Zuko. Z-zuzu—!"
Thrust.
"I told you not to call me that either," your husband rasped, both eyes scrunched as he drove his hips forward into you in an attempt to distract him from the sudden bout of disgust he felt at the nickname. Your body rocked in tandem with his, a similar expression — one of utmost pleasure — on your face.
But there was something else swirling with the blissed-out look in your eyes — confusion, maybe even concern.
Zuko's thrusts halted almost immediately, eyes slowly but surely opening. But even the warmth of your cunt couldn't stop him from rutting his increasingly hot length inside of you.
Even if they were micro-thrusts that you could barely feel.
"What... what is it? Why are you looking at me?"
But you weren't looking at Zuko — not directly, at least. Your eyes were drifting upwards, up at the white tendrils of smoke that were wafting off of your husbands body and hair.
"...are you close?"
Zuko's face soured immediately.
It was comical how fast his singular brow dropped, the warm hue on his cheeks spreading up to his ears and tinging them with a charming shade of red. The nerve. Had you not been his wife, he would've—
"No," he spat, adamant he wasn't close to blowing a load inside you barely three thrusts in. "We've just started. C-can't be close already."
Which was bullshit. Total, utter, bullshit.
Zuko knew it, too, with the way his balls were beginning to seize up on him. The ache in his groin was growing all too familiar, and you could both feel the temperature in the bedroom increasing drastically.
Sue him, his wife's pussy felt obscenely good.
"You're close, Zu. Can feel you— fuck, growing hotter inside of me." you murmured weakly, fanning your hand in the air to get rid of some of the steam. The minute ruttings from the firelord had ceased completely the moment you said that.
Seriously?
"Can't be. You're lying again."
"Am not," you retorted, voice choked. "It-it's so hot, Zuko. You're burning."
At that point, you were panting, hands flat against Zuko's sweaty stomach that tensed further under your wandering touch. He wouldn't budge at your measly attempts of pushing him off, but the second you flinched at the searing heat blooming across your palm, he lifted his bulky self off of you.
A war was fighting within you — putting any of the former battles Zuko had ever fought before to absolute shame.
Should you let your husband stave off the sex just so he could take a second to cool down, or should you have clenched your aching pussy, milk him for all he was worth and risk a hypothetical third degree burn?
Stupidly, you chose the latter option. A breathy whimper slipped out from between your kiss-bitten lips as you clenched your walls to keep him snug inside, eliciting a hiss from the man above.
"No, don't do that. You'll... it'll hurt you." Your husband mirrored your actions but more carefully, fingertips dancing against your bare stomach in an attempt to keep you settled. "I'll come back, always do."
"So empty, Zuko," you complained somewhat half-heartedly. "I don't like how empty I feel. You know I don't, but you keep working yourself up, 'n we keep stopping. All I want to do is feel good with you."
You could only shuffle into a seated position, fanning your hand again towards the direction of his face. Unable to touch you, Zuko simply watched through brooding eyes — looking like a kicked dog at the prospect of not filling you up tonight the way you deserved. When you huffed out a laugh, ignoring the emptiness down below, so did he. Kind of, as much as warrior like he could muster.
"I'm... sorry. Maybe we should keep a washcloth on standby," Zuko suggested somwhat softly as he tried catching his breath with you. Steam continued to radiate off of his hunched form funnily enough, drawing out a soft grin from you as you pushed his long hair back over his sturdy shoulders.
"That'd look funny," you teased, running a nail down his middle, all the way down to the base of his cock. Zuko's jaw clenched, leaking erection still standing strong and straight. "Watching the water evaporate right. Back. Off. Of. You."
Each word was punctuated with a flick of your wrist after you had experimentally wrapped your fingers around your husbands length — albeit somewhat loosely in case he was still hot to the touch.
Zuko had calmed down somewhat, distracted by the conversation. But the second your fingers met his skin, the steam came back, drifting off into nowhere. It wasn't hard to approach dangerously close to climax when his beloveds nude body was before him, marked with the physical evidence of love itself.
Withdrawing again, you stifled a grin and shook your head. "If only I could find a waterbender... Katara maybe—"
HAIR DOWN HAIR DOWN HAIR DOWN HAIR DOWN HAIR DOWN HAIR DOWN HAIR DOWN HAIR DOWN HAIR DOWN HAIR DOWN HAIR DOWN HAIR DOWN HAIR DOWN HAIR DOWN HAIR DOWN YOU MEAN OUR MAN!!AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THE ANIMATORS NEED A RAISE FO THIS 😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩 I'VE ALWAYS BEEN A SOKKA GIRLIE BUT GAAAAWWWWDDD DAAAYYYYUUMMMMMMM😭😭😭😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩
Fucking with Sanji whenever you're annoyed/upset with him by telling him his food is over-salted, under-salted, under-seasoned, etc. He says his food is perfectly seasoned and you're like "How would you even know with all those cigarettes you smoke? 🤔". And he crashes out.
Apparently, in order to get some semblance of privacy, all you needed to do was be attacked.
You had woken up alone, the sun already high in the sky, and the scent of lunch wafting through the air. The idea of turning over and bundling yourself into the blanket was tempting, but the smell of food had your stomach growling. It felt like a pit was in your stomach, and you couldn't help but grumble to yourself.
You'd grown soft. However long ago— how long had it been— you were used to the feeling of hunger, always bordering on starvation. You had learned to ignore your body's cues and cries for food, and you knew how to make a gifted meal stretch for a few days. Now, thanks to Sanji's schedule and food— his amazing food— your body was used to demands such as hunger being met.
It was rare for you to so willingly head to the dining room solo, as of late, you were a shadow of someone. Sanji, Nami, Luffy, Robin. It always depended on the day, but you'd be dragged around the ship, sometimes physically, if it was in Luffy's case. You wondered if it was surprising to anyone when you walked into the dining room, still holding tight to the fleece blanket, wrapped around you like a cape.
"Ah, mon amour," Sanji was the first to take note of your presence, as he always was, and he looked thrilled upon seeing you, clad in his pink apron, a smile on his face, "I was going to bring you lunch; you slept through breakfast this morning."
You watched one of Luffy's rubbery arms try to stretch behind Sanji's back, aiming for whatever was in the pan. Without missing a beat, Sanji shifted, turning to set the pan back on the stove top before sending a quick kick at his captain. Despite knowing this was how they always acted, you couldn't help but flinch as you recalled the sound of that Marine's bones cracking under Sanji's kick.
Luffy didn't do more than yelp and pout, arms crossed like a child. Sanji turned back, moving from the kitchen to stand by your side, leading you to a seat like an escort.
"I would have saved some breakfast, but this idiot ate your portion before I finished plating it." He sent a quick glare at Luffy, who only giggled and grinned as you sat down.
"Hey, hey! Sanji said you guys got attacked by a Marine last night!"
"Luffy!"
"Sanji said he took care of him, though," Luffy looked proud, chest puffing forward, "I told you before— it's okay if you're weak! The rest of our nakama is strong enough to take care of you, especially Sanji! Hey, Sanji! Is that why you like her? 'Cause she's weaker?"
He always managed to say insults so politely. You couldn't help but narrow your eyes at him, shifting to glance at Sanji, somewhat curious as to what his answer would be. He had gone back to the stove, finishing up what looked like some type of grilled fish.
"I love everything about her, elle est plus que parfaite," He spoke so plainly you felt heat rise to your cheeks, "Now stop talking about last night, Luffy. I'd rather erase that part of our date."
Luffy laughed, leaning across the table, arms stretched out your way. "Robin said you're doing a redo date tonight anyway, so why can't I talk about last night?"
There was a crash that had you jumping, and you watched as Luffy rubbed his head with a wince, looking down at the shattered plate that had just ricocheted off of his head. Sanji's cheeks were red, and he was glaring at the captain.
"Luffy, you idiot! That was supposed to be a surprise!"
"Oh," Luffy didn't look the least bit apologetic, "Sorry!"
The others had begun to trickle in at this rate, and you couldn't escape Nami as she flung her arms around you, squealing happily in your ear. You let her hold you, tuning her words out as you watched the others take their own seats. Robin smiled at you as she sat down, and you had to turn away. The look in her eyes was always too much.
"I take it our dear captain ruined your surprise, cook?"
Sanji sighed, already heading over with plates lined up on his arm, dishing them out to each person. "Unfortunately. It's my fault for telling him, honestly."
"I doubt it'll be truly ruined," She thanked him as he placed her plate down, "What desserts will you be creating tonight? I have to admit I'm rather curious."
"Ah, now that is a surprise," He placed a plate down in front of you, and you glanced up, catching the wink sent your way, "But fear not, Robin my sweet, Nami-swan managed to get us a whole bunch of fruits from that restaurant, so I can whip up whatever your heart desires."
She laughed, taking a sip of her tea, "How sweet of you." Her attention turned back towards you, "Don't worry, the rest of us will be heading into town for the night to give you pair some privacy."
"You all are going into town?" You asked the question before you could stop yourself, and the smile on Robin's face felt borderline condescending.
"We all have our own interests to look into, and we figured it would be nice for you two to redo your date without any Marines interfering. Or energetic captains."
Luffy had chosen that moment to attempt to snag some food from Zoro's plate, who hadn't even looked up before stabbing his captain's hand with a fork, sliding his plate further towards himself. He let out a yelp and pouted, pulling his hand to his chest with a whine of his first mate's name. The remainder of lunch passed in a haze, the conversations around you feeling more like background noise, a static in the back of your mind. You could hear Usopp telling some exaggerated story about fighting a monster, and you could hear Chopper's gasps of awe. You found yourself only half-listening, picking at the food on your plate as Franky tried haggling with Nami for a larger allowance.
Soon enough, the plates of lunch, yours included, were finished, and the sound of chairs scraping the floor interrupted the lull of conversations. You watched Sanji move back to the kitchen, his movements almost graceful, and Luffy trailed after him.
"Come on, Sanji— I want a snack! A post-lunch snack!"
Nami scoffed, moving to grab him by his ear, ignoring his whining, "You already had four plates of lunch."
"Exactly! Only four!"
Usopp laughed quietly as he pushed the chairs back under the table, moving to take your empty plate away without a word. He sent you a small smile, though, and walked past the now-arguing Nami and Luffy to put the plates in the sink.
"Just shut up," Nami huffed, arms crossed over her chest, "We're going on land now. You're sticking with Usopp today. I need Zoro to carry some bags for me."
"Again?" The only time you would ever hear Zoro sounding even close to being panicked is when he was being used as a pack mule for Nami, "You just went shopping!"
"What's that? You want me to increase your interest rate?"
"Hey!" Luffy had moved away from the kitchen, as Nami was no longer scolding him, "Are you coming?"
"Dumbass," Usopp was the one to remind him, shaking his head with a sigh, "She and Sanji are staying on board, remember? They're redoing their date."
"Oh yeah, sounds boring," He stuck his tongue out in response, but moved away from being in your space.
"Boring?" Sanji sounded offended, and you didn't want him to know you had somewhat agreed with Luffy, "What's boring about a romantic evening, you uncultured brute?"
Luffy shrugged, picking at his ear as he wandered towards the door, "All of it?"
Sanji pointed a half-clean knife his way, eye narrowing, "Get off the ship before I kick you into the town myself."
"It's my ship," Luffy pouted, "And I—"
Nami grabbed him by the back of his shirt, effectively cutting him off as she proceeded to drag him out of the dining area, hissing at him under her breath, "Can you just get a move on?"
"But Nami—"
Usopp and Chopper followed the pair out next, laughing at the duo, Zoro trailing not far behind them, a scowl on his face. Brook and Jinbe left next, quietly talking between them, though you thought you caught them glancing back your way a few times before exiting. Franky stretched, groaning loudly as Robin waited for him to join her.
"Don't sink the Sunny while we're gone, lovebirds."
You couldn't help the panicked laugh from falling from you, sounding more like a bark than anything. Your cheeks felt hot, and you couldn't stop yourself from glaring at the cyborg man. Robin giggled quietly to herself, and at the very least, Sanji looked somewhat embarrassed. He cleared his throat, and the silence that enveloped the pair of you was near suffocating. You could hear the others' voices growing distant before fading out of earshot entirely. It wasn't as if you weren't left alone with Sanji on more than one occasion, but it felt far more pointed in this moment.
"Ignore them— especially Franky," There was no real bite in his tone, and the annoyed look on his face melted, softening once you were in his sights, "He says some crude things sometimes."
You didn't have a response, so you just nodded, forcing a smile his way, though you were sure it looked at least somewhat forced. He moved along, so if your slight unease was apparent, he didn't react to it.
"Truth be told— I've been working on our dessert since earlier this morning, Nami-swan got a bunch of the fruits sent to the Sunny as an apology for last night. Though we only got so many of the velisar fruit, I imagine a fruit with healing abilities is far too important to give away in bulk." He was chattering along, cleaning dishes and drying them quickly, not bothered by your silence.
"Oh, mon cher," He was speaking directly to you now, and your attention shifted to him in full, eyebrow raising, "Robin-chan brought us a bottle of wine to pair with our dessert, a shiraz made on the island. She left a bottle in the pantry, would you mind grabbing it?"
You blinked at the ask— command, more than likely— before standing up, blanket still wrapped around you as you made your way towards the pantry. He was still talking, explaining the process of using the velisar fruit and being able to create a dessert better than the resturaunt. You searched for a moment in the pantry before your eyes settled on a bottle, far fancier looking than the things Zoro drank from. You grabbed it, reading the label. You could make out the label, Shiraz, but below it were words you didn't recognize. Saiin Sayō, Arukōru-Do Sū 30-Pāsento. You brushed it off, bringing it into the dining room.
Sanji had finished with the dishes and had brought newer items out, laying them out on the counter. There was a purple fruit laid out on the cutting board, about the size of apples. He was chopping them up, and upon seeing you back with the wine, he paused, the smile on his face growing larger.
"Ah, thank you, my sweet! Here, place it near me," You set it on the counter, being mindful to not have it too close lest he accidentally knocks it over, "And here you are," He held a small plate out, a few slices of the velisar on it.
You took the plate, glancing at it before glancing back up to look back at him, "Is this the dessert?"
"What do you take me for?" He placed a hand against his chest, faux offense on his face, "I'm finishing it up, but it'll take a few minutes. I figured you'd enjoy a sweet snack beforehand."
Truth be told, you weren't too hungry, but you also weren't full enough to refuse. Not to mention any time you pondered forgoing a meal or ignoring a plate, you remembered his threat from weeks ago. You wouldn't do anything that risked you being put on a feeding tube. You took the plate to the table, grabbing a slice and nibbling on it.
It was a bit tangy, and the juices felt almost sharp on your tongue. It tasted similar to a blackberry, but like a blackberry soaked in vanilla. It was good, and you were suddenly grateful that you weren't full from lunch. You continued to snack on the slices, watching Sanji twirl around the kitchen as he finished up the dessert.
"You didn't want to save the dessert for later tonight?" You were curious as to why he was serving the dessert so early in the day, and if he aimed for this to be a 'redo date', you didn't much look the part.
He chuckled quietly, "Truth be told, because I started working on the dessert so early this morning, it was finished sooner than anticipated. I pivoted from my original plan and decided we'd have a dessert now, and a nice dinner later tonight."
You nodded as he spoke, picking up another slice of the velisar fruit, humming at the juice that coated your tongue. No wonder this island was protective over it's fruits, if they tasted this good and had benefits like healing components, you could only imagine how many people came on shore in hopes of getting some. You let out a sigh, dropping the blanket from your shoulders as you finished your fruit snack. The room felt warmer the longer you stayed seated, and you let it pool around your waist where you sat.
"Et voilà." Sanji lifted the finished dessert up like a precious masterpiece, bringing it over to sit on the table before you. They looked like mini chocolate cupcakes, topped with slices of the velisar fruit that were twisted to represent a rose. Sanji took the empty plate from before you, bringing it to the sink and grabbing the bottle of Shiraz, as well as two wine glasses.
"Mind you, while a velisar imperial fondant sounds good, I believe my dessert is far superior," He popped the wine open, pouring you a small amount, before sliding your glass over your way.
You snorted, accepting the glass, "Wine in the afternoon, huh?" You took a sip regardless, wincing at the tang that hit your mouth. Sanji just smiled, taking his seat and taking a sip of his own wine, though it appeared to go down better for him than it did for you.
Before you could reach out to grab one of the desserts, Sanji's hand shot forward first, moving to hold one up to your mouth. The dessert pressed against your lips as you stared at him over his hand, feeling a small surge of annoyance build in your chest. It wasn't as strong as it normally was, and your resolve faltered far quicker than normal, and you let your lips part, taking a bite.
It was good. The chocolate was dark, almost bitter, and it paired well with the velisar fruit that seemed to be both in it and on it. You hummed, and your delight must have shown on your face, because Sanji's own face lit up. He was watching you intensely, almost studying your every reaction. You didn't give any more issues, allowing him to finish hand-feeding you the rest of the dessert.
He grabbed one for himself, and you took the space to sip your wine, washing it down. Sanji hummed as he ate the dessert, head tilting as he studied the flavor he created. "I imagine I can make many other things with the velisar, though I should save the rest of them for Chopper."
You set your glass down, head tilting to one side as you felt the air around you get slightly warmer, trying to find a comfortable way to sit. "What does this fruit do?"
"Robin-chan says that the velisar fruit has healing boosting abilities. Chopper says he should be able to use it for a variety of different ways— elixirs, slaves, infused in bandages. He was quite excited."
Maybe that's why the room felt warmer— whenever you were healing from injuries back on your own island, you'd get feverish; supposedly, the heat in your body killed germs. You hadn't felt bad when you had woken up, but maybe you had felt bad and not noticed.
"What one had we had last night?" You watched as he fiddled with his tie, loosening it slightly.
"Laughlight melon. Those who eat it get the symptoms of being drunk without having to drink, and best of all, no hangover."
You reached out to grab another dessert— cupcake?— and you ate it, torn between savoring the flavor and scarfing it down. You drank the rest of your wine, not stopping Sanji as he topped your glass off once more. The more wine that entered your system, the easier conversation flowed between the two of you. You hadn't even had this easy of a conversation with him the previous night, and you couldn't stop yourself from laughing, giggling at his quips and jokes.
Hours passed in a blur, and before you knew it, the pair of you had drained the bottle of wine and finished the dessert and the leftover slices of velisar. Your head felt like it was on fire, and your mind was spinning endlessly. Were you wine drunk already? Your ability to drink had plummeted since you had met Sanji; you used to be able to handle much more.
"You look a bit flushed, mon cher," You hadn't realized you had put your head on the table, burying your face in your arms, until Sanji had pulled your attention back to him, and you had to pry your head up to look at him.
He only looked, but so much better than you felt— his cheeks were red as well, and he had taken his tie off entirely, his blazer placed on the back of his chair, and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You giggled, studying his look, "You look flushed too."
He didn't deny it, instead moving to stand, reaching out to help you stand up. His hands felt like lava against your skin, and despite the heat you felt under them, you didn't pull away, allowing him to hold you close.
"Why don't we go lie down for a bit, hm?"
That sounded heavenly to your spinning head, so you just hummed, letting him walk you two to the bedroom. The bed was still messy, unkempt from when you woke up earlier, and you stood at the edge of the bed, staring almost hazily at the bed as Sanji moved to shut the door.
"Mon cher?"
You didn't respond, allowing your body to go limp, falling forward onto the bed with a plop, face buried in the blankets. You could feel the shock radiating off of Sanji, and you felt him crawl onto the bed, turning you to lie on your back.
"Mon cher? Are you alright?"
You were looking up at him, a dopey smile on your face as you hummed at his question. His eyebrows were furrowed, and the way he was hovering over you had his bangs hanging down, and you could see both of his eyes this way. They were so blue, and you felt like you could drown in them. He said something else, his tone concerned, but you weren't paying enough attention to make out what he had said.
Instead, you sighed, forcing your arms up to wrap around his shoulders, pulling him down, slotting your lips against his.
Y/n and Ridoc are twins, with him being older by 6 minutes. They grew up in coastal village named Ceaelyn in the Morraine Province of the continent. Due to the fact that their parents were highly absent, Y/n and Ridoc were raised by people in their village. They were the heart and soul of Ceaelyn. Once they got of age, they decided to join the riders quadrant. Their father, initially desagreed (as did most of the village), but seeing as they were so bent on going, helped them train little by little so that they could at least survive those first months.
Basgaith
First Impressions
A Scent of Trouble
Eyes Up, Gamlyn
Focus, Wingleader
Mutual Distractions
The Light Wielder
Gonna do something about it?
Soft Spot
Sweet and Pretty
Not just Vanity
Charmed
Charming her
We Were Rebels
Aretia
Domesticated
You are who I worship
Oh dear twin...
Smitten
Utterly Divine
Well, Who is she? | And who is he?
Girl's night
A Cultured Duchess | The Necklace
The Importance of Light and Hope
Homesick
Ceaelyan First
Duchess of the People
Missions gone Wrong
My one and only
Light of Mine
Bliss
Renovations
Beach Weekend
A Very Loved Wife
And a Very Traumatized Twin
Ridoc's Revenge
The Girl's Reward
Her Birthday
His Birthday
Just Pure Love
Stressful Situations
Incorrect Quotes
Author's Note: Hello! This entire story is ALREADY WRITTEN. I literally wrote it little by little as I was doing my midterms and finals as a way to destress and to survive my Onyx Storm hangover, mainly for me, using my name as an OC. Then as I finished it and I was like damn, this could actually be something people could enjoy. It fluctuates from canon a lot so don't expect it to be precisely like the books. I will be updating little by little. Since it quite literally finished you guys might get various chapters a day.
a/n: welcome back to my little reading corner! Can't believe we survived another year fairies. This time around, I logged out and read offline a lot more than I did the previous years, thus this post is not only dedicated to fics recs but also book recs. As I said the previous year, this is my love letter to the authors that stole my sleep, left me clutching my heart, or made me shed tears. New or older, re-reads or first times. I hope you'll find something here that speaks to you as deeply as it did to me.
if you have a recs to share or a favourite trope to gush about, my comment section is always open or jump here to tell me!
Love you fairies. Always.
click here to enter 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 & 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐲 @words-in-purple
I love me some broody Jungkook and I love me some arranged marriage au. Nice atmospheric quick read actually, loved the tension. Especially the "Even when you don't see me as a man...." .... "Your body does." internally dying from how hot he is.
𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐭? 𝐛𝐲 @wildestdreamsblog
Filthy. We loveeeeee filthy. If I could read this for the first time again, I would. Like at least five times. Beautifully written, so enticing to read. Bravo.
𝐒𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐲 @jkwrites-m
To find a good written apocalypse setting fic is scarce. I myself read only few that were actually good. Count this one in. And yandere on top of that? Pure bliss. Loved the ending.
𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐲 @peoniesnro
I have never ever expected to stumble upon genre (ai chat) like that, let alone read it. But I am glad I did, the plot-twists were chef's kiss.
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐛𝐲 @ggukivrse
Should be a real book. Period. It was so cosy but also thrilling to read such concept. And I'm so soft for Jungkookie here.
𝐃𝐚𝐡𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐛𝐲 @deepdarkdelights
Bridgerton au. That's what I was missing in my life. Thank you dear author-nim for giving me the pleasure to submerge myself into this beautiful fic of yours.
𝐀 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐲 𝐒𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐡 𝐉. 𝐌𝐚𝐚𝐬
The sequel of A court of Thorns and Roses completely won me over. Twice as good as the first, it delivers a slow, delicious burn, endless banter, and a richly described magical world that made every page a pleasure. Any hesitation I had about continuing the series vanished, and I’m more than happy to linger in Prythian a little longer. And I read the entire series. In mere days.
𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐤𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐲 𝐒𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐡 𝐉. 𝐌𝐚𝐚𝐬
One thing for sure, sarah will make you sit through will-they-or-won't-they-oh-wait-they-did-and-now-they are-in-even-more-fucking-trouble, to destroy you in the end, so now I'm like wake-me-up-in-a-century-when-my-heart-rate-has-returned-to-normal. the end, tho. the end was it sarah.
𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐭
I was so ready to throw the book away and not finish it, (the random talks about genitalia got me to rethink why I got this book in the first place, but got a chuckle out of me) because it just felt empty of something, and she resolved it so nicely. This woman knows how to make plot twists and hella good endings. Ah jesus. No words, I have to breathe that out. That was too much information in 30 seconds. lord, have mercy.
𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐛𝐲 𝐆𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐅𝐥𝐲𝐧𝐧
Ah my beautiful angel. Book of books. Upon my second re-read for my thesis I loved and unravelled this novel even more. Thank you Flynn and Amy Dunne, for becoming such a core memory of the beginning and end of the studies.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐜𝐚 𝐘𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐬
Read all three of them in span of a week maybe? I already gushed out about it in one of my logs. And I re-read them several times and I think I will definitely re-read them several more before the fourth book will come around. I was not passionate about a book like this for a long long time.
until we meet again fairies. love, p.
ps: again actually means tonight. posting heartbeat
; Warnings: Horror, gore, violence, zombies, death, character death, implied suicide, penetrative sex, oral sex (female receiving), fingering
; Synopsis: A night out at a bar results in you going home with a young and attractive police officer. But if you think the night was something to remember, that’s nothing compared to waking up to find a zombie outbreak in the city. A chance encounter with Officer Jeon leads to him helping you escape from the plague infested city.
; A/N: I know this is long, but please give it a chance and reblog if you like it! Let me know what you think as this has taken me 4 months to finally finish! It’s been inspired by Resident Evil, The Walking Dead and other zombie media! I hope you all enjoy it…
-
The music of the bar is like a slow and seductive pulse through your veins, vibrating through your body from the floor until you can’t stop your body from gently swaying along to the beat. A long neck beer in your hand is being swung about lazily while your eyes close, head falling back as you hum along to the song underneath the murmur and loudness of the crowd.
It’s some popular tune that’s in the charts now, something that you hear all the time in stores and on the radio. Not your usual fare, but good enough right now when you’re out with your friends and letting your hair down.
A hand on your waist causes you to chuckle, lips spreading in a bright smile as you open them and watch your best friend, Taehyung give you a bright grin.
“Someone’s having fun, are you drunk already?” He asks, wiggling his brows from beneath his honey blonde hair. It’s almost pin straight right now, looking unbelievably fine and you get the urge to run your fingers through it. You don’t though, because boundaries and all that.
“No, I’m not. This is my first beer thank you very much. I’m just enjoying the moment.” You give him a smile before pressing your finger against his chest and making him move back. Chaeyoung is sat on a bar stool as you approach, hopping up onto the creaking leather besides her and waving for a second one from the bartender.
“Not to get your hopes up, but there’s a ridiculously hot guy over there who’s been checking you out.” She points down the bar slyly, causing you to glance over and get a look at the man who’s apparently been eyeing you up.
The quick glance isn’t good enough for you when you catch sight of him though, and instead you give him your full attention. Looking him up and down, you bite your lip in appreciation before turning to Chaeyoung.
“Hell yeah he is, and I’m going to go over there.” You say with a smirk, taking the new bottle given to you with a thanks. Chaeyoung and Taehyung give you a resounding send off, cheering loudly for your luck while you stride over to your admirer with a smile.
⤷⋮𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐! If you haven't read the first part yet you can read it here Part 1 ˎˊ˗ mlist
⤷ Synposis: After Y/N caught them watching an R-rated video, she was left with no choice but to explain it to them.
⤷ Thanks for the lovely idea @ivarasite !.✦ ݁˖
・・・・・
The laptop was still screaming. The sounds of human gasps filled the small room, echoing off the metal walls. Lo’ak was still frantically slapping the keyboard, and Neteyam was frozen, his face a deep, bruised purple of pure shame.
Then, the door open.
You stood there, holding a tray of food, your eyes moving from the glowing screen to the two giant, blue teenagers. The silence that followed was heavy. The only sound was the rhythmic thumping coming from the laptop speakers.
"What in the name of..." Your voice trailed off. You quickly set the tray down and lunged across the room, slamming the laptop lid shut with a loud crack.
Silence. Thick, agonizing silence.
Neteyam looked like he wanted to melt into the floor. He wouldn't even look at you. His ears were pinned back so far they looked painful. "Y/N," he managed to choke out, his voice cracking. "We... we were looking for the moss. The glowing moss pictures."
Lo’ak, however, was still staring at the closed laptop as if it were a live grenade. He looked up at you, his yellow eyes wide and searching. "Y/N," he whispered, his voice full of genuine concern. "Are you okay? Is your species... broken?"
You blinked, caught off guard. "Broken? What do you mean?"
"The video," Lo’ak gestured wildly at the desk. "The humans. They were... they were hitting each other. There was no bond! No queue! We thought the male was trying to tear her apart, but she was making sounds like a dying animal. Why do you do this? How do you even know what the other is feeling if you cannot connect?"
Neteyam finally looked up, his expression deeply pained. "It looked... lonely," he added softly. "It was just noise and skin. Is that truly how your people show love? By shouting and wrestling in the dark?"
You stood there, face heating up, realizing that to a Na'vi—whose entire life is based on the sacred, silent neural connection of Tsahaylu—human intimacy didn't look "sexy." It looked like a chaotic, confusing, and violent accident.
You stood there, rubbing your neck, trying to find words that wouldn't make this even more awkward. The two brothers watched you with intense, golden eyes, waiting for a logical answer to the "chaos" they just saw.
"It’s not a fight," you started, your face still burning. "And we aren't broken. It’s just... different."
Y/N who have no choice but to explain.
"You have the queue," you said, gesturing to their braids. "You can see into each other’s souls. You know exactly what the other person feels because your nerves literally touch. Humans don't have that. We are trapped inside our own bodies."
Neteyam tilted his head, his ears twitching. "So, you are always alone? Even when you are that close?"
"In a way, yes," you explained. "Because we can't 'plug in' to each other, we have to use our bodies and our voices to bridge the gap. The 'shouting' and the 'wrestling' you saw... that’s just us trying to feel as close as possible. Since we can't share thoughts, we share everything else—touch, heat, and sound."
Lo’ak looked at the closed laptop and then back at you. "But the sounds... she sounded like she was in pain."
"That’s just how humans express high emotion," you said, trying not to laugh at their horrified expressions. "Sometimes, when something feels very good or very intense, the body reacts the same way it does to pain"
Neteyam let out a long, slow breath. The dark purple flush on his skin began to fade back to a normal blue. "So, it is a choice? To be that loud? To be that... messy?"
"It’s not really a choice," you replied. "It’s just how we are built. It’s a different kind of bond. It’s not spiritual like yours; it’s more... physical and emotional."
Lo’ak crossed his arms over his chest, looking a bit more relaxed but still unimpressed. "I think I prefer the bond. It is much quieter. And nobody looks like they are being eaten by a palulukan."
Neteyam nodded in agreement, finally meeting your eyes. "We will tell no one of the 'Skin-Fight,' Y/N. For your sake. It is a very strange way to live."
Just as the tension in the room finally began to cool, the heavy metal door hissed open once more. This time, it wasn't a scientist—it was a shadow that filled the entire doorway.
Jake Sully stepped in, his sharp eyes darting between his two sons and you. He noticed the dark flush still lingering on Neteyam’s neck and the way Lo’ak was staring at the laptop like it was a cursed object.
"What's going on in here" Jake’s voice was low, the tone of a father who knew exactly when his kids had been up to no good. "I could hear Lo'ak's tail hitting the desk from down the hall."
Neteyam stood up straight, his hands behind his back in a perfect soldier’s stance. "Nothing, sir. Just... learning about human culture."
Jake looked at you, raising a suspicious eyebrow. Then he looked at the laptop. He’s been a human; he knows how laptops work. He saw the "Misc. Research" folder still highlighted on the screen. A slow, painful realization dawned on his face. He closed his eyes for a long second, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Oh, for the love of..." Jake muttered. He looked at his sons, who were waiting for him to explain the "messy wrestling" further.
"Dad," Lo’ak said, his voice full of genuine pity. "We saw how the Sky People... connect. Is it true? Are you and Mom... loud like that?"
Jake’s eyes snapped open, his ears twitching in pure, unadulterated fatherly horror. He looked at you, his expression pleading for help. "I’m going to kill Norm," he whispered under his breath.
He then turned to his boys, pointing a firm finger toward the door. "Out. Both of you. Go to the village. Go fly your ikrans. Go do anything that doesn't involve computers. Now!"
As the boys scrambled out, still whispering to each other about "skin-fighting," Jake turned back to the laptop and sighed. "I forgot how much explaining I was going to have to do when they hit this age. Thanks for taking the first shift, Y/N."
・・・・・
As they walked down the long metal corridor, safely away from their father’s stern gaze, Lo’ak leaned closer to Neteyam, his tail still twitching with leftover nervous energy.
"bro" he whispered, his eyes wide with a new, horrifying realization. "Think about the avatar bodies. Dad is a Dreamwalker."
Neteyam groaned, sensing where this was going. "Lo'ak, stop. Do not say it."
"No, listen!" Lo'ak continued, his voice rising in high-pitched panic. "He has a queue now, but he started as a human! Do you think he had to teach Mom how to do the... the 'skin-wrestling'? Do you think she was confused too?"
Neteyam stopped walking and looked at his brother with a face full of pure exhaustion. "I am going to jump off a cliff if you finish that sentence."
"I'm just saying!" Lo’ak’s voice went even higher in pitch. "The Sky People are so... loud. They have no queue! They just have to hope the other person likes what they are doing? It is like flying an ikran without the bond! You’re just sitting on a giant bird, screaming and hoping you don't fall off!"
Neteyam hissed, a low sound of warning, but his own curiosity was a curse. "It did look... difficult. And very sweaty."
"Sweaty and confusing!" Lo’ak agreed, shivering. "I bet that is why humans are always so angry and keep trying to blow things up. They are just frustrated because they can't plug their braids into anything. If I had to 'wrestle' every time I wanted to feel close to someone, I’d be grumpy too."
Lo’ak shivered, looking back at the lab one last time. "I just hope I never have to hear Mom make the sound of a wounded ikran. I don't think I could ever look at a bow and arrow the same way again"
They reached the edge of the forest, the cool, humid air of Pandora finally hitting their faces. Neteyam took a deep breath, trying to let the spirit of Eywa wash away the memory of Norm’s glowing screen
"We never speak of this," Neteyam said firmly, looking his brother in the eye. "Not to Kiri. Not to Spider. And especially not to Mom."
"Deal," Lo’ak said, but then a mischievous grin spread across his face. "But next time Norm acts like he is the smartest person in the room, I’m just going to make a 'slapping' sound with my hands and see how fast his face turns red.
"Lo'ak! No!" Neteyam shouted, but his brother was already sprinting into the trees, laughing like a madman. Neteyam sighed, rubbed his temples, and ran after him, praying to Eywa for the strength to survive his brother—and the strange, strange secrets of the Sky People.
Okay, so i need help finding a fic of Jungkook x reader. I read it a whileeee ago, but it was a werewolf au with the reader as a soulmate. BTS was a pack and Jungkook found his soulmate (reader), but he is rejecting her.
I remember that RM was the leader of the pack and he lost his mate, he was trying to warn Jungkook. Because Jungkook didn't mark the reader there were rogue werewolf attacking her. That's kinda how they first met.
The last chapter i read was when the reader went to their house in the woods because she was in danger, but Jungkook was in heat and was locked away from the reader (he did it himself actually). Reader went to the woods and was attacked by rogue werewolves and Jungkook finally rescued her and kinda accepted her as her mate. They were like hugging as the ending scene.
Warnings | +18, angst, manipulation, injury, blood, MC starts to understand the rules of the game, MC is a vessel of revenge 🫠, brief reference to what MC did to Yoongi, noncon kiss, dubcon kiss, Jimin conflicted and teased by MC, Hoseok a bit soft 🤔 (uhmmm), multiple references to sex and pregnancy, dirty and vulgar language, this is not for minors.
This fanfiction is dark and yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.
I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.
This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.
Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.
⤷ Summary | The Moondir, born of the Moon Goddess' love for a wolf, were persecuted and enslaved by humans for merely existing. Moondirian women have been captured and killed in the most heinous ways, men have instead been forced to do dangerous work in place of the humans themselves, and after more than a century, this has virtually brought their race to the brink of extinction. A group of Moondirian rebels have succeeded in their quest to regain their freedom, and not without the use of the crudest violence. Their females are now gone, and it will be human women who will help them repopulate the world.
➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys! ❤️
I'm back after an unforgivable delay. Unfortunately, a lot has happened in recent months, and I don't have as much time as I used to, so I can no longer promise you a specific date for updates on Moondir or the many other stories I have in mind! I'm really sorry, but I can assure you that Moondir is still going strong, and I'll never abandon it! 🥹❤️
In this new update, you'll see a change in MC, especially towards Jimin 🫠
I really hope you enjoy the chapter! Let me know what you think, I love your comments! 🥰
I love you all! ❤️💜
Your eyes are dull as Seokjin's pen tip elegantly scratches the sheet of paper. He asked you what happened, how it happened, and how long it happened. You answered each of his questions absentmindedly, as if detached from the story.
When he finally finishes writing down his thoughts on what you told him, he allows himself to look at you.
“Y/N,” he says your name softly, looking at you as if you could break at any moment.
“Mh?”
“Actually, yesterday morning when I left, I talked it over with the others and we concluded that it would be too much for you to be with one of us every day.”
His words take a while to sink in, and you nervously tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
“I don't understand, you seemed pretty convinced about your initial plan,” you reply, trying to sound confident.
Seokjin nods, “I don't deny it, but psychological stress is not a great ally if you're trying to get pregnant right away.”
You shift uncomfortably. This is the second morning Seokjin has come into your room to ask you questions. You hope it doesn't become a habit.
“How will it work then?”
“Twice a week to give you time to recover between sessions,” he sighs. “Besides, Jimin didn't do things the best way.”
A wave of nausea makes you shrink. “What do you mean? He came, he did his job.” It's disgusting to talk about it like that, but how else could you say it?
Seokjin keeps his expression unreadable, but you can see the tips of his ears redden in response. Maybe he doesn't like hearing you talk like that.
“We’re wolves, Y/N... when we finish, we should wait for the knot, to make sure our seed doesn’t leak out and that it takes properly. Jimin didn’t do that.”
You freeze, remembering the strange sensation of something swelling inside you that Jimin stopped just in time. Was that the knot?
“He probably thought it was too intimate to share with you, but it will happen with the others... I just want you to be aware of it.”
“You could have told me earlier,” you snap, “I would have forced him to finish.” Your lips tremble, but not because of tears—you cried yourself out last night—but because of anger. Were you forced to endure that torture only to end up with complete failure? How many more times will they use you for reproduction?
“I'm sorry... when conception occurs, I can smell it, but there's nothing coming from you,” you scrutinize his slightly hunched posture sternly. He seems as disappointed as you are, albeit for very different reasons.
“Is there anything else?” you ask bitterly.
“Are you in pain anywhere? I'd like to examine you before we go.”
You immediately shake your head.
“It's not my body that needs healing, Seokjin,” you reply proudly. The wolf presses his lips together before nodding.
“All right... don't forget to eat, okay? This time Jungkook made breakfast, he's much better than Namjoon,” he grimaces, thinking back to his friend's culinary horrors, while your mind is flooded with the younger man's mysterious eyes.
“Jung...kook?” you ask, almost ashamed, feeling an unusual sensation in your chest. Seokjin relaxes his shoulders, happy to answer you.
“Yes, he's the youngest member of our team, I guess you don't...”
“He helped me after Jimin left,” you admit, gritting your teeth and surprising the healer.
“He... helped you?” The syllables come slowly from his lips, as the wolf's mind is filled with doubts and perhaps even a hint of hope.
“I want him to be the second,” your tone is firm. If even someone like Jimin refused to make your first night a nightmare, you strongly doubt that the others would do otherwise, so you might as well have a free choice. Jungkook doesn't seem to like dialogue. You would both avoid a lot of unnecessary talk. Your thoughts turn resentfully to the necklace and what it represents. You are no longer willing to turn a blind eye.
Seokjin seems to be thinking about something that makes him gloomy.
“Is he part of the program too, or not?” you almost growl. You weren't ready either, but they didn't let you back out!
“Yes, he's part of the program, but his mind isn't in good shape, and that affects his body too.” Seokjin narrows his blue eyes, looking at you more closely. “Of course... if you...”
You raise an eyebrow, far from calm.
“If I?”
“You said he took care of you, you could approach him, talk to him,” his voice trembles a little, “Jungkook isn't bad, he just needs a cautious approach.”
You look at him bewildered, as if he had just asked you to pull mountains of gold out from under your bed. He has clearly lost his mind. “You're asking me to do the impossible! He might slit my throat if I say the wrong thing.”
"He won't, even with Jimin you thought the worst, but it didn't happen. We are still creatures with a conscience, even if we are not totally human," he explains gently, somehow understanding your state of mind.
You sigh tremulously, trying to banish that crazy idea from your mind. “Okay, so if Jungkook can't,” and here embarrassment tinges your cheeks slightly, making the wolf smile, “who?”
Taehyung could be the most likely candidate. He's going through a rough heat and would certainly need company. You're no different from a prostitute now, the only difference being that you also have to get pregnant, as well as sexually satisfy everyone. But once again, Seokjin doesn't express himself clearly.
“The time hasn't come yet,” he says cryptically, leaving you with a question mark as big as a house weighing on your head.
“What do you mean?”
“I have a theory,” he says, and then says nothing more.
You don't like sitting around doing nothing. After a week, nothing has happened so far, and you haven't had another chance to talk to Seokjin face to face. For one reason or another, the healer was always busy, and you found yourself in Namjoon's company several times.
Seokjin was right about one thing: Namjoon was a terrible cook, and Jungkook was far better than him. You didn't understand why the older wolf insisted on cooking, taking turns with the younger one.
At least you weren't bothered by any of them anymore, you think with a mixture of relief and unease. It seemed that everyone had been ordered not to talk to you or touch you unless absolutely necessary. While you had been pleased at first, now you were beginning to miss the chance to talk to someone.
You continue to slowly chew the jam-filled muffin that Jungkook has just baked, walking back and forth around the house. You discovered some interesting things in that last week, some paintings concealed hidden messages and letters, it seemed that the eldest daughter of the previous owners of the house had a rather steamy relationship with a cousin. This should have upset you, but compared to the reality you are forced to live with, it seems almost trivial.
Since that night, you've also started carrying Jimin's necklace around with you. He hasn't been seen since, but at the first opportunity, you'll make sure to give it back to him, promising never to wear it again. Every time he has your body, he'll have to remember who he's doing those things to. Even if it means making him furious.
You freeze halfway between the hallway leading to the living room and the stairs. Jungkook freezes too, holding a large, dusty box. He seems to be thinking about something before walking straight ahead, as if you don't exist.
'You said he took care of you, you could approach him, talk to him '
“Jungkook?” The words came out before you could stop them, inspired by the healer's advice. You curse yourself, but you can't back down now. The young wolf has stopped and is staring at you with eyes full of... expectation? It's the first time you've called him by name. You don't know if you like it, but it certainly had an effect on him.
“Can I help you?” You point to the large box he is carrying. He presses his lips together for a moment, then—almost shyly, you notice with some surprise—nods.
ou follow him a few steps behind, and the wolf enters a corridor in the house that has always led you to a dead end, but to your surprise, you see him push his hand against the wooden wall that has always forced you to turn back. The wall opens with a series of sinister sounds, and it takes all your pride not to open your mouth wide.
It was a secret door!
How did you not think of that? It was strange, actually, to have a wooden wall when everything else was made of stone.
“Where does this passage lead?” you ask, forgetting that for some strange reason, Jungkook would never speak to you. You don't know if it's a physical problem or if he just doesn't want to talk. Anyway, it doesn't take long to find out the destination.
You slowly descend the wooden steps that creak under your feet, and an intense smell of dampness invades your nostrils. When the wolf turns on a small light bulb, you find yourself peering into what appears to be a basement. The walls, also made of stone, show signs of rough workmanship: a thin layer of water covers the floor, soaking some of the boxes scattered around. Among them, numerous objects catch your attention.
You ignore the unpleasant damp smell to concentrate; your brain has new stimuli to register and decipher, and you feel excited.
“It's like being in a movie,” you comment with a sigh.
In one corner, on top of an old tea table, you spot a dusty typewriter. Next to it, a pile of worn-out books seem to beg for mercy, as if they had been read countless times until they were worn out.
A little further on, you notice an elegant cherry wood rocking chair. Despite the dust, its sinuous lines and the quality of the wood strike you. It must have been used a lot by its owner, but apart from the heavy layer of gray dust, there are no signs of wear. And that's saying something in such a terrible environment!
Jungkook watches you out of the corner of his eye, noticing how absorbed you are; it would be nice to take a nap in that chair, wouldn't it?
He shudders at that bizarre thought, shaking his head decisively before placing the huge box full of old records on the floor. He stares at them for a moment, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes, while you catch his motionless figure out of the corner of your eye.
You lean over his shoulder, trying to get around the wall that is his height, and finally see the contents of the box.
“Oh... they're CDs,” you murmur, smiling uncertainly. “What genre of music do you like?” you continue, getting no answer, of course. The boy begins to close the box, pulling out some tape you didn't even know existed. Where did he get it from?
“Why are you putting them away? Don't you have a CD player?” Is it possible that the previous owners of the house had CDs but no player to listen to them?
Your questions seem to annoy him, because he looks back at you suddenly with a frown and his lips curled in a disdainful expression, as if you had just touched a raw nerve. You feel yourself freeze. For a moment – a single stupid moment – you forgot what he is and what situation you are in. His calm demeanor helped put you at ease, but he remains a predator at the top of his game.
“I'm sorry,” you murmur, the blood draining from your face. He snorts in irritation. “I'm a chatterbox. My father always pointed that out to me,” you mumble, clenching your hands into fists at the memory of your parent ordering you to be quiet.
Jungkook finishes closing the box before turning back to you, setting aside the annoyed expression he had before. For some strange and absurd reason, seeing you scared of him didn’t please him. It’s different when he kills men—they deserve it, and even some women who are a bit too crazy for his taste—but you are so innocent that it’s impossible not to feel tenderness, and that unsettles him quite a bit.
No human has ever made him feel an emotion like this. He’s always driven by anger or disgust, and when he’s alone he feels only apathy—but with you, in some strange way, it’s different.
That's why he feels guilty, while you nervously clench the fabric of your pink sweater, which is a little too big for you.
Biting his lip, he reaches out to caress your shoulder. The touch is light, almost imperceptible, but it's there and it's enough to send your brain into a confusing spiral of sensations. Is Jungkook apologizing?
You blush and shake your head, “It's okay, I guess,” you murmur, meeting his incredible lilac eyes, which shine in the dark like a cat's. Then something catches your gaze, where the long strands of his hair almost disappear over the edge of his simple black shirt. “Those are—” you point to his neck, but Jungkook instantly moves away, bringing a hand to where you were pointing. His expression perfectly mirrors yours; a mix of alarm and agitation.
“Jungkook?” But he doesn't listen to you, abandoning everything he was doing in that place and rushing up the creaky steps, as if trying to escape your judgment.
You keep mulling over what you saw. Could those things on Jungkook's neck have been gills? From the way he left, it seemed like he was ashamed of them, assuming you really did see gills. You nervously bite your nails, pacing back and forth through the corridors of the house. You haven't run into anyone else since then. From what you understand, each of them has a job to do, and their schedules don't always align. Some come back and some leave, but at least two of them stay in the house, as if to make sure you don't run away.
You want to laugh in their faces. Run away to where, exactly? You'd starve to death or something. The whole country is no longer ruled by humans. You'd be intercepted by other wolves and killed, if you were lucky, of course.
As you're about to go back to your room, you hear whispering coming from the same room that's used for meetings. You frown. Are they back? When?
The urgent need to listen comes galloping back into your brain. God, how you miss the outside world. Hoseok doesn't dare talk to you about it, teasing you every time: “Why would you want to know what's going on out there? Would you like to join our games?”
You curl your lips in disgust. Ever since you chose Jimin first, he seems to have distanced himself from you, as if you had offended him. Idiot!
It's all a game to them, a race to see who comes out on top, and you're the prize. Or rather, the prize is your womb.
“I'm just saying that one wrong move could doom us again!” Namjoon growls, slamming his hand on Yoongi's desk, glaring at an old wolf who looks tired but fierce. The man has deep wrinkles furrowing his brow and a scar disfiguring his face from his mouth to his left eyebrow. He is clearly the oldest among them and acts on the direct orders of the alpha who rules the entire country.
“But it wouldn't be a bad idea,” Seokjin tries, earning shocked and angry looks from his companions. “Sylvus might be right. We've been hunting humans for months. Now they are few and weak. It's the perfect opportunity for a peace treaty. Yoongi, think about it!”
The wolf in question looks at his host impassively. “Why does Sylvus need our approval, Bryan?”
The old wolf curls his lips, “In the past, listening to one man was our downfall. Sylvus, on the other hand, wants to know what his people think before making such a move,” he replies wisely. Suspended between them is the image of the previous supreme Alpha, a wolf perhaps too good to understand the evil nature of humans.
Jimin clenches his teeth, almost grinding them together, “No. We have the chance to wipe them out, the world will no longer suffer because of their existence.”
Bryan smiles at the young wolf's words. “You're young and full of rage, kid. We're older and we recognize our victory. Continuing would be a waste of energy. Why don't you make up for the years you've lost? Humans have understood the mistake they made and won't bother us anymore.”
These are encouraging words. But for some strange reason, Yoongi bursts out laughing, sounding more like a sharp, piercing cry of derision. He pulls back his black hair, shiny like a panther's coat, drawing attention back to the old man.
“Basically, you're advising us to leave the rest to you, so that you can build a civilized society where everyone greets each other with a nice smile, forgetting death, abuse, and chains. Is that right?”
Namjoon and Jimin relax their shoulders, relieved. But Seokjin seems disappointed; he, more than anyone, is tired of the slaughter. They have regained their freedom, they have the chance to carry on the species, but this does not seem to satisfy the others. There is still too much pain to overcome. Taehyung would also agree with Yoongi, and probably Jungkook too, who can't wait to go out and hunt down the humans left in the territory. The only one who has not yet spoken, despite being present in the room, is Hoseok.
Seokjin looks at his friend with understanding, who is staring at his boots without daring to utter a word. Something happened to Hoseok during those hundred years. Imprisonment and torture broke him. He is still a faithful Moondirian, Seokjin has no doubt about that, but sometimes Hoseok no longer seems to be Hoseok. Without realizing it, he begins to refer to himself as human, sometimes unable to even look at a prisoner, believing he is betraying a friend. He seems divided.
At first, it was difficult for the others to accept, but Hoseok had no choice, and eventually they all learned to put up with his identity crises.
Bryan shakes his head, “I'm just saying that we've all lost a lot. After a war, peace always comes, and it's time for all of us to move on.”
“You're not going to say—” Yoongi stops Jimin's hostile words with a single gesture of his hand.
A small smile and the defiance in the boy's eyes already say a lot to Bryan, but Yoongi wants to make things clear verbally as well, “Tell Sylvus that he is free to fantasize about his plans for peace and tolerance between races. He is our Supreme Alpha, I would never dare to go against his wishes.”
There is a slight pause, Namjoon straightens his back and clenches his jaw, wanting to give free rein to the anger rising inside him, while Seokjin sighs inwardly as your scent begins to make the air in the room more sensual. Bryan also notices the change, but waits for the end of the speech.
“I won't hunt humans, but if I happen to come across one, well... let's just say I won't be very tolerant,” he concludes sharply.
Bryan doesn't seem disappointed, as if he expected a similar response—in fact, he has already heard this from countless other Moondirian groups scattered throughout the country—and shrugs.
“My friends,” he chuckles, “I don't judge you or your words. I am not your enemy, and I am the first to understand your pain and anger, but...” and here he winks toward the door, “I think there are other ways to vent it, don't you agree?”
Bryan throws open the door and stares at you with his one eye, so clear that it makes you shiver, seeming to tear your skin and flesh from your bones with unprecedented coldness. Hoseok interrupts your staring contest.
“You don't need to tell us how to use our lovely human,” he says in a tone so gentle that the false note behind it is obvious. He gently places his hands on your shoulders, but his grip is firm, possessive. As if he wants to make things clear.
“Don't exaggerate, kid.” The old wolf towers over Hoseok by a few inches, but the emerald-eyed wolf isn’t intimidated and doesn’t move, placing himself in front of you like a protective barrier that makes you feel desperately relieved.
“I think it’s time to go. Yoongi has given you his answer,” Namjoon says with a small nod toward the hallway in a gesture of dismissal.
The man lightly brushes your shoulder as he begins to leave without saying a word. It’s a small, intentional gesture—one that immediately draws the others’ attention. A spark of annoyance runs through them, enough to almost make them growl.
Yoongi waits a few more seconds before speaking. His gaze pins you in place.
“I assume you heard everything,” he says, almost disinterested—but you know him better than anyone. Over time, you’ve learned to listen to his silences and read his movements. He’s angry.
“She was probably looking for me. I told her we needed to discuss some matters related to mating,” Seokjin jumps in to help you, but Yoongi ignores him.
He settles back more comfortably.
“You should be pleased, right? The higher-ups have decided they’ve punished you enough. Which is funny, really… so few years, compared to what we endured at your hands.”
You grit your teeth.
I’ve never hurt anyone, Yoongi,” you snap back, irritated. “And yes, I’m happy. Maybe if you stopped this pointless bloodshed, your soul would finally find some peace too.”
You’re not trying to provoke him. You’re just answering his question — but for Yoongi, everything is a provocation.
He rolls his eyes, a silent reply: You’re unbearable.
“Leave us.” Namjoon and Jimin don’t seem bothered by the order — Yoongi speaks, and they obey.
Seokjin, however, narrows his eyes, and Hoseok looks ready to protest, still shielding you with his body.
“She’s just a foolish little girl. Don’t pay attention to anything that comes out of her mouth,” he sighs, leaving the others stunned.
“Hoseok…” Namjoon warns, but he continues.
“Honestly, if we punished her for every single thing she says or does, she wouldn’t last till the end of the month.”
Yoongi looks genuinely entertained.
“I’m sure she didn’t mean to eavesdrop on our conversation,” Seokjin adds, still in disbelief. Did Hoseok really speak up for you?
“You still haven’t understood the meaning of my words. Should I repeat them in our mother tongue?” he asks, his voice turning dangerous.
Then he speaks in a language unknown to you: “Lou’rin nohae!”
The sound is melodic, beautiful — but the weight behind it is so threatening that everyone in the room freezes.
“Forgive us, Yoongi,” Jimin says with difficulty, his face gray. With a sharp gesture of his hand, he orders the others to leave. You only have time to catch Seokjin's apologetic glance before you see him join Namjoon and Jimin outside, while Hoseok sighs.
“It won't take long. Be good,” he whispers as he passes by you.
What the hell happened? A few seconds ago, they seemed ready to fight a war for you. What made them retreat so easily after... oh!
“Moondirian is a magical language, isn't it?”
Yoongi smiles, “You can call it that if it suits you. It only works on a pure Moondirian and only has power if you play a dominant role within the pack,” he gets up to wander around you, “I don't use it often. I don't like forcing my companions to do what they don't want to do, but sometimes it's useful.”
His chest is against your back now, his heartbeat strong against you, making yours throb in response.
“It's a pity it has no effect on you,” his warm breath caresses your ear, a few strands of hair move and tickle your skin, “Perhaps you would have told the truth if I had forced you.”
You shudder.
“I was too young,” you reply weakly.
“I've heard that one before,” he hums, his hands sliding over your hips, squeezing them weakly, “Try again.”
The memories of that day are hard to swallow. You can still hear your mother's screams and your father's threats; you were terrified at the time. You had never seen them so angry, and it was natural to blame Yoongi for everything.
“Now you want to talk about the old days?” you ask tensely. “The other day you didn't seem so willing.”
“You interfered in my business, I feel obliged to remind you why you should be careful instead.”
You snort. “I didn't want to listen, there's nothing to do in this house...” you admit, making the man raise his eyebrows.
“You think so? But there's a lot to do, what you did with Jimin is proof of that,” he says mellifluously, making you curl your lip in disgust.
“Stop it.”
“Did you learn a lot?”
“Enough...”
“How about putting into practice now what you...”
“Yoongi, stop it!” you blurt out breathlessly, swallowing hard to hold back the rest of the words you were about to spew at him.
The man loses his smirk, returning to his inscrutable expression.
“Don't be ashamed, it's not like you can do anything else, am I right?”
“If you need to humiliate me just to feel alive, then you’re worse off than I thought,” you growl in response. The man's gaze darkens and a bitter half-smile accompanies it.
“Don't be cruel, Y/N,” he whispers, moving closer slowly. “You've already been cruel enough to me… don't you think?” he asks, looking incredibly tired for the first time.
You see them, the dark circles under his black eyes and his slightly sunken cheeks. For a moment, you see the young man who used to serve your family.
“Give me something to do, something that doesn't make me feel like a whore,” you swallow, “Waking up in the morning, eating, waiting for Seokjin's questions and then waiting for the next man I'll have to spread my legs for is driving me crazy.” You bite your lip, trying to stop it from trembling.
You're getting used to the idea of being just that. It's horrible and demeaning. You need something to occupy your mind when Seokjin isn't looking for you, and wandering around the house aimlessly isn't a good method. You feel caged in.
“Everything has a price,” he demands harshly, refusing to grant your request without something in return.
Your shoulders slump under the weight of his capricious gaze.
You're looking for a loophole so you can feel something else, but everything always comes back to that.
Your trembling fingers grab the stiff fabric of his jacket, slowly pulling it off, avoiding touching him, and the soft sound of the fabric sliding down his arms breaks the silence between you. You feel uncomfortable and dirty. He doesn't move, he remains motionless, his breathing barely audible. Then he looks down at your hands clinging to his jacket.
“Why so serious, human?” he asks irritably, “I didn't ask you to give me a blow job.” Those crude words make you blush from head to toe.
“I bet Jimin hasn't taught you that yet, though.” You don't have time to reply.
Time freezes.
Before you can figure out what's happening, he grabs your face and presses his lips firmly against yours. There’s not the slightest hesitation, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. His lips mold themselves naturally to yours, imprinting his taste on you with the audacity of someone who knows that, in a situation like this, you can’t do anything.
The most humiliating thing is that, for a single moment, you remember your younger self—who would have desperately wanted something like this with Yoongi.
But now you don’t respond to the kiss. You’re not capable of it. That man is no longer who he used to be, and he doesn’t even seem to care. He doesn’t bother deepening the kiss or closing his eyes. The pitch-black is there, watching you, waiting for your violent reaction. You try to ignore his faint scent of mint and tobacco. The closeness of your bodies is uncomfortable, making you uneasy—and he seems to enjoy every second of it.
He's testing you. He doesn’t really want to kiss you.
When he pulls away, you see amusement on his face.
“You suck at kissing,” he teases, “but you won’t lack practice in the future,” he murmurs sardonically.
“I'm sure of that,” you say with disgust, ignoring the burning sensation on your lips. It was just a simple touch, nothing like the kiss Hoseok gave you, but somehow it hurt more.
“Anyway, I actually have a task for you,” he says with a slight, thoughtful pout, “But don't forget what your priorities are. Don't make me angry again, it might not end so well,” he winks at you, freezing you in your tracks. It's not over yet.
“I'm also curious about something else, how far would you go to get more freedom?”
You clench the gold necklace in your fist, each step you take seems deafening, but the chain burns in your palm like an accusation.
You are not its owner, and both you and the jewel in question know this. That's why when you see Jimin's detached expression as he waits in the living room for Yoongi to arrive, something inside you explodes.
You throw the necklace at him with all your strength. You're not as strong as a Moondirian, but your fury is enough to cut his eyebrow.
His detachment is replaced by surprise, his amber eyes widening to stare at you speechless. Jimin gasps as a line of blood runs down his skin, getting stuck between his eyelashes.
“Are you crazy?” he asks in a trembling voice, as if he is slowly registering what really happened.
You grit your teeth in a silent growl, “Who can say? In a place like this, surrounded by people like you, the only way to survive is to go crazy, am I right? Otherwise, why would you do something like this to fuck me? You're as crazy as I am.”
“Shut up,” he orders you with an agitated expression, stiffening at the arrival of the others. Seokjin arrives breathless, holding an open anatomy book. Hearing your voice and Jimin's from his room has put him on alert, all too aware of your mutual animosity.
“Why? Oh, right... you're ashamed, I guess,” you sneer. “Yeah, you should be,” you continue maliciously. “You had one thing to do and you didn't even see it through,” you provoke him, and maybe you really are crazy.
Jimin's amber eyes turn to melted chocolate, so dark and deadly that you realize you've gone too far with him. You're deliberately humiliating him in front of his brothers.
“Let's calm down, okay?” Hoseok intervenes, his muddy shoes showing that he's just come in from outside. “I don't know what the hell happened between you two, but that doesn't justify your aggression, doll.” He seems nervous as he glares at you to put you in your place.
“Why do you always have to get yourself into trouble?” he continues angrily, which you find rather strange. He should be happy to punish you again. Ever since you first met, he has given you the impression of being a sadistic bastard, so why is he now reacting as if seeing you in trouble causes him... distress?
“Jimin, she's just nervous, it's not easy to get used to—” Seokjin puts a hand on Jimin's shoulder, but he shakes it off.
“Mind your own fucking business,” he whispers softly, “This is between me and her, understand?” The wolf's tense face makes your skin crawl, but you don't move a muscle. This time you won't tremble like a rabbit. “She's been like this since she walked into this house, provoking me with such ease that it drives me crazy!” The wolf rudely wipes the blood from his lips.
He moves like a snake, fast and sinuous.
He traps your wrist in his steel grip and forces you to follow him.
“Jimin, what are you doing?” Seokjin asks anxiously. Hoseok moves in your direction, perhaps to pull you out of the clutches of his furious companion, but the latter barks orders at them.
“Not another step, or I'll really kill her!”
Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Yoongi stopping next to Seokjin, hands in his pockets and impassive expression. He nods slowly in your direction.
Your heart skips a beat, but you return his gaze with confidence. This is how it has to be.
“This is between me and him, don't follow us,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady to hide your turmoil, Jimin's grip tightens. He looks like he's about to explode.
“I don't need your permission, you treacherous snake,” he comments stiffly, pulling you again to get past the others.
Hoseok still seems undecided, but he can't do anything else, not with Yoongi in the room and seeming so calm about Jimin's behavior.
When you disappear from view, however, he finds himself growling at his captain.
“Why did you let him behave like that?”
“The human and I made a deal,” he shrugs, lighting a cigarette with practiced ease, ignoring the fiery looks from the other two.
“What do you mean?” Seokjin asks in surprise. Until recently, he had been convinced that Yoongi wanted nothing to do with you.
The wolf with coal-black eyes exhales smoke in a little cloud, licking his lips.
“To keep her busy, I've given her the task of recording all the humans we capture and kill, specifying the reason behind the capture and how they were killed. She'll be a kind of assistant.” Hoseok shakes his head.
“It'll be torture, not a job for her.”
“But this way she'll have something to do, while Sylvus will get records attesting to valid reasons behind the capture. If written by a human, it will also be easier to believe what is written.”
“It will be complicated. Sylvus will send one of his men again to make sure she doesn’t write certain things just to please us because she fears us.” Seokjin rubs his eyes, visibly stressed and worried.
Yoongi smirks, “Do you think I'm a fool? I've thought of that too.”
Hoseok twists his mouth, “Yes, but that still doesn't explain why you let her go with that loose cannon!”
“Of course it does. I gave her permission to respond to your provocations as she sees fit, with the assurance that no one will hurt her in return, as long as she lets herself be fucked freely.” he looks up when he notices the healer’s astonished expression. “Don’t make that face, Jin. Do you think couples wait for the right days to have sex? As far as I’m concerned, that’s all bullshit.”
Something doesn’t sit right in Seokjin’s mind.
“Getting a job to relieve stress and having the chance to respond to provocations without punishment, as long as she gives herself freely. Two things in her favor, for a single payment.” The healer raises an eyebrow. “There was more, wasn’t there?”
Yoongi doesn’t answer, but a half-smile marks his features, softening them somewhat. There’s no reason for Seokjin to find out about the little kiss you exchanged; in the end, it was nothing important.
“What do you think you’re doing, you little brat?” he asks when he finally lets you go after dragging you into an empty room, with no furniture and no prying eyes.
Jimin seems completely beside himself, the blood now dried on his face and on the collar of his shirt, no longer in perfect condition. You smile, your heart racing with that intoxicating sense of triumph.
Yes, Yoongi is now a shameless piece of shit — but at least he’s an honest shameless piece of shit.
“I only gave back a fraction of the pain you inflicted on me.”
Your satisfied expression leaves him stunned, burning into you in return. Now that you look at him more closely, and with newfound confidence, you notice that Jimin resembles a dragon — a dragon whose treasure has been stolen. Driven by emotion, he doesn’t realize how easy it would be to wound his wings and bring him down.
“I won’t let you get away with this.” He’s now so close you can feel his breath mixing with yours, his chest rising sharply, shaken by low rumbles that scream “danger!”
“I’ll fill you in on Yoongi’s new orders. You can’t lay a finger on me now,” you tell him, gently gripping his collar. You feel him tense.
“That’s not possible. He would never do that,” he spits. “We are superior to you — we could kill you if we wanted!”
You smile sweetly, playfully tugging at the fabric between your fingers.
“The power of words brings down kingdoms. Didn’t you know that?”
At first angry, Jimin relaxes his shoulders after a few seconds of complete silence. He breathes slowly, though his pupils remain dilated.
“You got a favor, it seems,” he murmurs caressingly, his eyes like two luminous spheres, “What did you give him in return? You don't get something like that with a couple of crocodile tears shed just to make him pity for you.”
He's not wrong. Yoongi would have ignored your crying.
The truth is, the sooner you get pregnant, the sooner he'll be able to get rid of you for a while. The mere sight of you disturbs him in a way he doesn't really want to admit, because it would give you power, in a way. Besides, the more time you spend with his men, the more they seem to desire you. It's his intention to send you away before the worst happens.
“I gambled with the only thing I can really bet,” you reply seriously, Jimin chuckles maliciously.
“Your body,” he asserts confidently and with a hint of mockery. “We already have that.”
“My womb. With no more rules or controls, I know how annoying Seokjin can be,” you hiss and squeeze his collar tightly before pressing your lips to his.
This kiss is also different from the ones you've given before. It's an explosion of stagnant, dark emotions. Jimin's lips taste of iron and anger, his dried blood weighing heavy on your tongue as if it wants to burn you.
For a few moments, the wolf doesn’t respond, remaining stone-faced. Perhaps because your gesture was so rash and unusual that it left him petrified. Then a breath, broken by an angry growl, and his resistance goes out the window. He retaliates with a certain amount of violence, grabbing you forcefully by the neck, as if to punish you for daring to touch him that way, while his other hand snakes around your waist like a serpentine vice.
Every touch of your lips is a punishment dripping with venom, your bodies colliding as if in a duel. Jimin pushes you against a wall, one leg sliding between yours, pinning you. You sink your teeth into his lip, making him moan softly before slipping your tongue into his mouth, consuming each other with lascivious, devouring caresses.
When you pull apart, both of you panting, he looks at you with a cloudy gaze, full of a desire that leaves him bitter.
There is a certain tension between your bodies, and you look at him with a defiant glint.
“Stop hiding behind objects or people. You don’t need a charade to fuck a woman, Lieutenant,” you tease him.
There’s something dangerous in his silence. His eyes slide over your lips, swollen and red as sin, then return to meet yours with a new, animalistic and conflicted emotion.
“You’re playing with fire,” he warns, his jaw tense and sharply defined.
You caress it distractedly, without missing a single movement of his marble-sculpted face. “Maybe I'm starting to like it,” you reflect.
“You don't need to love me to have my body, it's just an exchange,” you continue, “Flesh is flesh, right?”
Perhaps you are a descendant of the serpent that tempted Eve.
There's no need to go that far; you just need to get pregnant as soon as possible. A simple task, you've always told yourself. Open your legs and let him do his work.
Yet, the idea of making him fall for you teases you. You are everything that disgusts him, the opposite of what he loved – but there is a spark of desire that shouldn't exist. Even though he would never admit it out loud, Jimin finds you interesting. Attractive, even, if you really want to push it. That's why he seizes on your every gesture or word to despise you; he fears you. What sweeter revenge than this: to ruin him until he becomes a vessel of guilt and contempt for himself and what he's lost.
Jimin wrinkles his nose and mouth before dragging you across the cold floor with him. His chest presses against yours, seemingly torn between hating you and devouring you; perhaps he chooses both, seeing as he grabs your neck to kiss you once again in a suffocating display of power.
“You'll regret all of this, Y/N,” he murmurs at your lips. You almost laugh from the heart.
I kowtow to @alessiamalfoyzabini for this masterpiece of a series and hope there's more cuz AAHHHHHHHH 😩😩😩😩 IT'S AMAZING AND I CAN'T WAIT TO FIND OUT MORE!!!
in which Seonghwa cant get enough of Mingi's little sister (continuation)
park seonghwa x fem!reader (third person)
explicit sexual content / smut, secret relationship, alcohol consumption, verbal aggression, physical violence, fighting, assault, blood, intense family conflict, betrayal of trust, anger issues, possessive behavior from both parties, implied controlling behavior from mingi, angst. mdni, ateez member mentioned
part one
well hello hello, how have you been?? i was reading my work while sorting out my files on my laptop and read part one of this fic, and even though it’s been literal months since I posted it — and despite the fact that I’m right in the middle of university midterms — I couldn’t help myself and ended up writing part two. so enjoy this angsty chapter. i honestly had fun writing this, so i hope you like it!! comment your opinion about it, and my inbox is always open for everyone!
wc: 6,4k
After that night someone would expect that they wouldn’t continue this, that they would break it off for the sake of her brother, his best friend since childhood. But no. What happened between them that night changed the shape of things — not just because it was their first time crossing that line, but because neither of them could pretend it hadn’t meant something more. They kept it quiet, kept it hidden, moving carefully around Mingi like a fragile fault line, pretending nothing had changed while everything had. It was secret smiles over breakfast, late-night texts, soft laughter muffled into pillows, and the ache of wanting to reach for each other in plain sight and not being able to. Because Seonghwa had spent years hiding his love for her that now after having her whole, he couldn't stop. And he didn't want to.
That’s how they ended up here. He had her spread out on his bed, worshiping her body.
"Fucking perfect," he breathed.
Her cheeks flushed, but the way he looked at her — like she was the most precious, beautiful thing in the world — made her feel bold. She reached out, grabbing at his shirt and tugging it over his head, revealing his toned chest and abs that glistened slightly under the warm lights. She had simply come over for dinner with the excuse she was going out with her best friend.
"You're not so bad yourself," she whispered playfully.
That was the last bit of restraint Seonghwa had.
He pushed her back against the bed, his body covering hers, his lips trailing down her neck, biting and sucking as he made his way lower. She arched into him, gasping as his mouth found the sensitive spot on her collarbone, his hands gripping her hips tightly.
"Seonghwa—" she moaned softly, her voice shaking.
"I love when you say my name like that," he growled against her skin, his breath hot, making her shiver.
His fingers quickly worked at unbuttoning her jeans, tugging them down her legs in one swift motion, leaving her in nothing but her panties. His eyes darkened even more, the hunger in them undeniable.
“You’re driving me insane,” he groaned. “I need you so bad, angel.”
Without waiting, his long digits slipped beneath the fabric of her panties, finding her already wet for him. He let out a deep, guttural groan at how ready she was.
“Fuck… you’re soaked.”
She bit her lip, embarrassed but turned on beyond words, her hips grinding against his hand as he circled her clit gently at first, then with more pressure, watching her squirm under him.
She moaned louder, her hands gripping at the sheets beside her as her thighs trembled.
Seonghwa couldn’t take it anymore.
He dragged her panties off and quickly unbuckled his jeans, pushing them down with his boxers. His hard length sprang free, and her eyes widened slightly at the sight of him again — thick, veiny, and already leaking at the tip.
“Spread those legs for me, baby,” he commanded gently, voice breathless.
She obeyed immediately, breath hitching as he lined himself up, his tip nudging at her entrance, teasing her. He looked into her eyes, waiting for that tiny nod of permission. When she nodded, he pushed in slowly, stretching her inch by inch, both of them moaning at the overwhelming pleasure.
"God, you're so tight," he groaned through gritted teeth, burying himself fully inside her.
She gasped, her hands flying to his back, nails digging into his skin as she adjusted to his size. Seonghwa kept still for a moment, peppering kisses all over her face, whispering sweet nothings, until she was ready.
And when she started moving her hips, he lost control.
He began thrusting into her, first slow and deep, savoring every second, but as her moans grew louder, his pace quickened, becoming rougher, more desperate.
The headboard knocked softly against the wall as they moved, and he buried his face into her neck to muffle his own grunts. She whimpered, biting her lip as her walls clenched around him.
“You feel so fucking good—so warm, so perfect for me. My good girl,” he praised, watching her fall apart under him.
Her body started trembling again, her climax building fast under his relentless rhythm. She moaned into his hand, her body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed through her. Seonghwa followed seconds after, groaning into her neck as he spilled inside her, his body shaking from the intensity.
⋆. 𐙚 ˚
The soft patter of rain against the windows was the first thing she registered as she slowly stirred awake. She blinked a few times, her eyes adjusting to the low light as her fingers curled into the soft fabric of Seonghwa’s sheets. The first thing that greeted her senses was him — his scent, his warmth lingering in the empty space beside her. That warm, musky, slightly sweet smell of his skin mixed with faint hints of cedarwood and fresh laundry made her melt a little deeper into the mattress for a moment.
But he wasn’t in bed.
She rolled over, stretching gently, a small whimper escaping her as her body reminded her of the night before. She was still a little sore — pleasantly so. Her thighs tingled from how rough and thorough he’d been, her lips still tender from his endless kisses. She smiled, cheeks flushing as every little detail from last night replayed in her head like a secret movie only she could watch.
Biting her lip, she finally pushed herself up and carefully slipped out of bed, still wearing his oversized t-shirt that hung mid-thigh, swallowing her frame. She padded barefoot across the wooden floors, quietly following the faint sizzling sound coming from the kitchen.
There he was.
Seonghwa stood by the stove, dressed in a pair of grey sweats and a plain black t-shirt that clung just right to his frame. His hair was slightly messy, pushed back with one hand as he focused on flipping pancakes on a skillet. The kitchen was dimly lit, with only a few warm lights under the cabinets casting a soft glow over him.
She stood there for a moment, just watching him, her secret lover, her heart swelling at how domestic he looked. This man — who just hours ago had been worshiping her body, whispering filthy praises in her ear — was now here, barefoot in his kitchen, making her breakfast while rain fell outside.
Her stomach flutered uncontrollably.
Without thinking much, she tiptoed toward him, silent as a cat, and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, pressing her face into his back. He jumped slightly, chuckling as he carefully moved the spatula out of the way and reached down to hold her hands where they rested on his stomach.
“You scared me, baby,” he said, his voice low and warm.
She giggled against him, tightening her hold as she swayed them gently side to side. “M’ sorry,” she whispered playfully. “Couldn’t resist.”
Seonghwa let out a breathy laugh and turned his head slightly, catching a glimpse of her through the corner of his eye. “How did you sleep, hmm?”
“Perfect,” she murmured. “Woke up and you weren’t there, though.”
“I couldn’t let you wake up without breakfast,” he smiled. “Besides… I figured you’d need the energy today.”
Her cheeks flushed instantly at his teasing tone, and she lightly slapped his stomach with her palm, making him chuckle even more.
Seonghwa turned in her arms slowly, now facing her, his hands resting on her waist. He took in the sight of her wearing his oversized shirt, her hair still a little messy from sleep, her bare legs peeking out underneath — and his heart clenched. She looked like she belonged here. Like she belonged to him.
“You’re too cute for your own good,” he whispered, leaning down to steal a soft, lingering kiss from her lips.
Her hands slid up his chest instinctively, returning his kiss with a small smile. “You spoil me.”
“I plan to,” he whispered against her lips before reluctantly pulling away. “Go sit. It’s almost ready.”
She obeyed, walking to his small kitchen table, admiring the way he moved around so effortlessly. The entire apartment smelled of freshly brewed coffee, vanilla from the pancakes, and a hint of rain filtering through the cracked window. Seonghwa plated their breakfast, joining her at the table with two steaming mugs of coffee, black for him and sweetened for her — just like he remembered. The pancakes were topped with fresh berries and a drizzle of syrup.
“You really didn’t have to go all out like this,” she said with a mouthful, cheeks slightly puffed.
“I wanted to,” he replied softly, his eyes never leaving her face. “You deserve to be taken care of.”
After breakfast she went to the bathroom to take a quick shower, wanting to freshen up since she never washed herself last night, and he stayed in the living room casually scrolling through his phone as he listened to her faint humming behind the closed bathroom door, his heart full, but his body still on edge from how close and domestic everything felt.
But then — A sudden, loud knock at the door.
He froze. Completely froze.
His entire body stiffened as the blood drained from his face for a second. His first instinct was panic. Mingi? God forbid it was Mingi. The knock came again, followed by an all-too-familiar voice.
“Hyung! Open up, I know you’re inside. I saw your car.” It was San.
Seonghwa exhaled deeply, closing his eyes for a brief second in relief, but only slightly. While it wasn’t Mingi, it was still San — and San knowing she was here was almost as dangerous. He turned his head toward the bathroom — the water was still running; she hadn’t heard anything.
“Shit,” he whispered under his breath before quietly walking to the door, cracking it open just a bit.
“What do you want?” he whispered sharply.
San gave him a cocky grin. “I was around and i wanted to see if you wanted to grab lunch or something.”
“Bad timing, San,” Seonghwa muttered. “You need to go.”
San tilted his head. “What? Why? You sick or something?”
“I have… someone over.”
San blinked. His eyes widened a little as his grin grew tenfold. “Someone? As in a girl?” His voice was already teasing, his tone laced with intrigue.
Seonghwa’s jaw tightened. “Yes, and that’s exactly why you need to leave.”
“Oh, absolutely not,” San laughed, already pushing the door open with no invitation, stepping inside and kicking off his shoes. “Now I have to stay. This is gold. Seonghwa, you never have girls over. Who is she?”
Seonghwa closed the door behind him and sighed, running a hand down his face, desperately trying to think of how to get San out before she came out. San, oblivious to the growing panic in his friend, casually made his way to the kitchen and grabbed one of the remaining pancakes off the plate.
“You’re unbelievable,” Seonghwa muttered, following him.
San sat himself comfortably on the couch, grinning. “I won’t bother you long, hyung, I just want to meet this mystery girl—”
“You won’t be meeting anyone,” Seonghwa interrupted, voice sharper this time, lowering his tone as if to keep the conversation between them. “Just go. Please.”
San just shook his head, taking a bite of the pancake. “Nah. Now I really want to see who finally managed to get Park Seonghwa wrapped around their little finger.”
Seonghwa was about to answer again when the bathroom door creaked open.
Both men turned their heads simultaneously.
She stepped out into the hallway, looking down at her phone, completely unaware of the conversation that had been taking place just outside. She was still wearing Seonghwa’s oversized t-shirt that hung far too low on her bare thighs, her hair slightly damp and messy from her shower, her skin glowing from her freshly applied skincare. When the young woman’s head finally lifted when she sensed the heavy silence, her wide eyes landed right on San sitting on Seonghwa’s couch, staring at her with his mouth hanging slightly open.
Time stopped.
She froze, eyes going wide as her stomach dropped. “Oh… my God.”
San’s pancake froze mid-air. His eyes blinked slowly, utterly stunned. Neither of them moved for a full second, both processing the shocking reality of this exact moment. Her face turned crimson instantly, heart racing wildly. She looked like a deer caught in headlights. She instinctively grabbed the bottom of Seonghwa’s shirt and pulled it down, even though it didn’t help much.
San broke the silence first, his eyes slowly widening as everything clicked in his head. “Wait— Mingi’s little sister? That’s who you have over?” His gaze darted to Seonghwa in absolute disbelief, as if his brain was short-circuiting.
“San—” Seonghwa started, his tone warning, stepping in between them like a protective barrier.
San immediately got up, still stunned. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re sleeping with her? Hyung!” His voice was half-whispered, half-shouted, trying not to be too loud but failing miserably.
Her hands gripped the hem of Seonghwa’s shirt tighter as her face burned hotter.
“It’s not like that—” Seonghwa tried, but even to his own ears it sounded weak.
“Oh, don’t even try that one,” San hissed, pacing for a second, both hands now on top of his head. He turned back to Seonghwa, voice urgent now. “Does Mingi know?”
“No, San. Of course not,” Seonghwa said sharply.
“Oh my God,” San breathed. “If he finds out, Seonghwa— he’ll kill you. I mean it. Like… actually.”
“I know.”
San rubbed his temples, trying to process it all. But then, after a few moments of pacing and a deep exhale, his expression slowly shifted from panic to something else — pure mischief.
He looked at her again, then at Seonghwa. “I mean… honestly, I should be mad but… you’ve been into her for years, haven’t you?”
Both she and Seonghwa froze again.
San grinned when they didn’t answer, reading their silence perfectly. “Jesus Christ. You two…” He let out a laugh, almost in disbelief. “This is insane.”
“San, please…” Seonghwa said softly, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to salvage some control over the spiraling situation. “You cannot tell Mingi.”
San stared at him for a moment, lips pursed. “Obviously I’m not gonna tell him, hyung — I’m not suicidal.” He glanced back at the girl, his teasing side fully emerging now that the initial shock was wearing off. “But, damn… you’re braver than me.”
She buried her face in her hands, groaning. “I cannot believe this.”
San finally let out a full laugh, shaking his head. “Well. My Saturday just got a hell of a lot more interesting.”
Seonghwa sighed deeply, his entire body still tense as he looked over at her, silently apologizing with his eyes. She peeked at him through her fingers, face still beet red, but her lips curled into a tiny, flustered smile.
⋆. 𐙚 ˚
Now with one of her brother’s friends knowing, things got more complicated. Two months. It had been two whole months since that first night with Seonghwa, and somehow, against all odds, they hadn’t gotten caught. Not once. The secret was burning under her skin like fire, this deliciously reckless thing that left her dizzy every time she looked at Mingi across the table and acted like she wasn’t sneaking off to his best friend’s apartment at every given chance.
Because Seonghwa? He was addictive.
It wasn’t just the fact that their sex life was amazing. It wasn’t just the way he could have her falling apart in record time, with his voice in her ear telling her she was his good girl, or the way he pulled her onto his lap whenever she tried to be stubborn, kissing her senseless until she melted for him.
No.
It was the way he treated her.
Like she was the most precious thing in the world. Like the ground she walked on deserved to be worshiped because she was on it. He spoiled her in ways she didn’t even know she craved—making her breakfast after long nights, running warm baths for her when he knew she was sore, tucking her into his bed when she was exhausted, kissing the top of her head before turning off the lights.
Seonghwa was the kind of man who would drop everything to come get her if she so much as texted him that she was upset. The kind of man who remembered every little thing she said, who would stop in the middle of the day just to buy the exact chocolate she had casually mentioned liking. God, that woman had him wrapped around her little finger. She knew it, too. One tilt of her head, one pout of her lips, one sweet “please, Hwa?” in that soft little voice, and he was already saying yes before she even finished the sentence.
And Mingi?
Poor, clueless Mingi had no idea.
No idea that when his sister said she was going “out with friends,” and kissed his cheek goodbye, she was actually sliding into his best friend’s car, giggling as he kissed her knuckles at red lights. No idea that his best friend had his baby sister in his lap half the nights of the week.
And she was starting to realize something terrifying. Something thrilling.
She was starting to realize she loved him.
It hit her in small moments. Like when Seonghwa leaned against the kitchen counter one Sunday morning, hair messy, wearing nothing but sweatpants, scrolling, while humming softly under his breath. Or when he kissed her cheek before she left, even if they had been tangled up in his bed for hours, like he couldn’t help but have one more kiss before she walked out the door, like he would never see her again. Or when she laughed so hard she couldn’t breathe and he just sat there staring at her, eyes soft, like she had hung the stars in the sky.
Everything was perfect. Until that night.
⋆. 𐙚 ˚
Mingi said he would go out with friends. Seonghwa would go too because he hadn't seen everyone in a long time. He had been texting her because truth was, he missed her, because he hadn't seen her for a couple of days. The bar was crowded, music was thumping faintly in the background, and Seonghwa was sitting with Mingi, San, Wooyoung, Hongjoong, Yeosang, Jongho c, and Yunho crammed around a long table. Everyone was laughing about something Wooyoung said, shots of soju already lining the center of the table, but Seonghwa’s hand kept drifting to his phone every few minutes.
Mingi noticed. “Who are you texting?” he asked, smirking, his words slightly slurred from the alcohol he’d already downed.
“No one,” Seonghwa said smoothly, slipping the phone face down on the table.
San, sitting on Seonghwa’s other side, smirked knowingly. He knew exactly who Seonghwa was texting, but he wasn’t about to out his friend like that.
“You’re acting weird tonight,” Wooyoung teased, reaching for another shot. “Like you’ve got a secret or something.”
Seonghwa just smirked faintly, shaking his head. “I’m fine.” But he had kept telling himself he was going to leave early—he needed to leave early—but Wooyoung had practically locked an arm around his shoulder like a trap.
“Where do you think you’re going, huh?” Wooyoung had grinned at him, shoving another shot glass across the table toward him. “You can’t leave yet. The night’s barely started.”
“I have stuff to do tomorrow,” Seonghwa muttered, though he didn’t reach for the shot glass.
“Yeah? Like what?” Wooyoung raised his brows dramatically. “Sitting at home alone? Come on. Stay. Relax. Don’t be boring.”
And that was how Seonghwa ended up still there an hour later, watching everyone else get steadily drunker while his own glass stayed mostly untouched. He sipped just enough not to draw suspicion—he knew how to play it off—but his mind kept wandering back to his girlfriend. San was already half gone, leaning across the table to shout something in Yeosang’s ear, who wasn’t much better off. Mingi was pounding the table laughing at something Yunho said, Hongjoong was trying and failing to look like the responsible one, and Jongho just kept shaking his head like the designated adult.
The music wasn’t too loud in here—not enough to drown out the chaos happening at their table—but the place was packed enough that people were bumping into each other trying to get through, laughter and voices rising over the low thrum of bass in the background.
Seonghwa was laughing now too despite himself, watching San attempt to flirt horribly with the waitress bringing their drinks while Wooyoung encouraged him like a terrible wingman.
“Stop drinking,” Hongjoong told San when the next round arrived.
“I’m fine,” San said, words slightly slurred as he reached for the glass anyway.
“You’re not fine,” Hongjoong said sharply. “You’re going to embarrass yourself.”
“I,” San said loudly, pointing at himself with a dramatic flourish, “am amazing at holding my liquor. Watch me.” But within ten minutes, San was bantering with everyone. The people at the next table. A couple walking by. Even the bartender at one point.
“Sit down,” Wooyoung said, laughing so hard he nearly spilled his drink. “You’re gonna get us kicked out.”
San sat down—but only to turn on their table instead. “Alright,” he said, squinting around at them like he was about to deliver the punchline of the century. “Who here thinks they’re better looking than me? Be honest.”
Yeosang immediately raised his hand.
“Wrong,” San said flatly, then turned to Seonghwa, eyes narrowing playfully. “What about you, Mr. Perfect Face?”
“I am better looking than you,” Seonghwa said smoothly, smirking faintly into his glass.
“Ohhhhhhh,” Mingi howled, pounding his fist on the table.
“FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT,” Wooyoung chanted like a five-year-old.
San leaned closer, grinning. “At least I can talk to girls without sounding like a robot.”
Seonghwa didn’t even flinch. “At least I can actually get girls,” he said lightly, sipping his drink.
The table roared even louder. San clutched his chest like Seonghwa had mortally wounded him.
“Damn,” Yeosang muttered, trying not to laugh.
San, however, wasn’t done. Not by a long shot. He was drunk enough now that his mouth was moving faster than his brain, words spilling out with no filter.
“At least I,” he said loudly, pointing at himself again, “am not fucking and secretly dating Mingi’s little sister.”
Everything stopped. It was like someone had cut the sound in the entire bar.
Seonghwa froze completely, the words hitting him like a punch to the chest. He blinked, slowly, heart lurching violently as his brain tried to process what just happened.
The table went dead silent.
Even Wooyoung’s grin faltered, the laughter dying on his lips. Yeosang’s eyes went wide. Hongjoong’s head snapped toward San like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.
And Mingi…
Mingi was staring at San with this confused, sharp look, like he wasn’t sure if he’d heard correctly but knew, deep down, that he probably had.
“What?” Mingi said finally, voice low but carrying over the table.
San, still grinning like an idiot, didn’t stop.
“Yeah,” he said loudly, like he was telling the funniest joke in the world. “Seonghwa’s sleeping with your sister. He’s been sneaking around for weeks—”
“San,” Wooyoung cut in sharply, voice dropping low. “Shut the fuck up.”
San turned to him, confused, like he didn’t get why everyone suddenly looked like they’d been slapped.
“What?” San said again, blinking. “It’s true. They’ve been—”
“San.” Wooyoung’s voice was firm this time, almost angry.
And that was when San finally stopped, blinking around at the table like he was only just now realizing the weight of what he’d said.
But it was too late. Because the entire table was dead silent. Because Mingi was staring at Seonghwa now, eyes narrowing slowly like storm clouds rolling in. Because Seonghwa hadn’t moved, hadn’t spoken, hadn’t even breathed since the words left San’s mouth.
Seonghwa could feel his pulse pounding in his ears, thudding so hard he thought maybe everyone could hear it. He didn’t even look at Mingi yet—he couldn’t.
San was blinking slowly, swaying a little in his seat, realization creeping across his face in fragments as though his drunk brain couldn’t put the pieces together fast enough.
“Wait,” Mingi said finally, voice low, steady in that terrifying way people get when they’re holding back something much bigger. He leaned forward slightly. “What did you just say?”
No one answered.
Yeosang shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Wooyoung’s head was in his hands. Hongjoong was muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like I told you to stop drinking, while Jongho sat there, stone-faced, staring at the table like it had personally offended him.
San, because he apparently wanted to dig his grave a little deeper before jumping in, opened his mouth again.
“I just said,” he started, pointing vaguely in Seonghwa’s direction, “that he’s been—”
“San.” Wooyoung’s voice cracked like a whip this time, sharp enough to make San flinch. “Shut. Up.”
Finally—finally—San seemed to realize something was very, very wrong.
The grin slipped off his face as he looked around at everyone staring at him like he’d just set the building on fire.
“What?” San said, softer now, like maybe he could backpedal if he just acted confused enough.
Mingi was still staring at Seonghwa.
Seonghwa could feel it now, that heavy, burning stare, even though he hadn’t lifted his head yet. His hand tightened around his glass because it gave him something to do, something to hold onto as the floor opened up beneath him.
“Is that true?” Mingi asked finally. The words were quiet. Too quiet.
Seonghwa dragged his gaze up slowly, because he couldn’t avoid it forever, because Mingi deserved at least that much.
Their eyes locked across the table, and Seonghwa felt it—the gut-punch of guilt, the weight of every single thing he hadn’t told him crashing down all at once.
Mingi’s expression didn’t give him anything. Just this blank, unreadable look that was somehow worse than if he’d started yelling already.
“Answer me,” Mingi said, still calm, which was worse. So much worse.
Around them, the table was holding its breath.
Seonghwa opened his mouth, but nothing came out at first.
Because what was he supposed to say? That yes, he’d been secretly dating Mingi’s little sister for two months? That yes, he’d been in love with her this whole time and hadn’t said anything because he didn’t know how? That San just detonated the entire thing like it was nothing?
He managed, finally, “Mingi—”
But Mingi was already leaning back, shaking his head slightly like he didn’t want to hear it yet.
“Are you serious right now?” he asked, voice still steady but low enough that Seonghwa had to strain to hear him over the noise of the bar around them.
“Mingi, let me explain—”
“Explain what?” Mingi snapped suddenly, voice cracking sharp enough that people at the next table actually turned to look. Seonghwa shut his mouth instantly.
“Mingi,” Hongjoong said carefully, standing too, like maybe he could keep this from turning into a full-blown scene. “Sit down. Let’s just—”
“No,” Mingi snapped, cutting him off, eyes still locked on Seonghwa. “How long?”
Seonghwa hesitated, and that was his mistake, because Mingi let out this sharp, disbelieving laugh like that told him everything already.
“Unbelievable,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair like he was trying to physically get the anger out somehow.
“Mingi,” Seonghwa tried again, standing slowly now too because sitting while Mingi was pacing like that felt like putting his head on a chopping block. “Listen. I was going to tell you—”
“When?” Mingi whipped around, voice raising over the music now. “When were you planning on telling me, huh? After sneaking around behind my back for months?”
Seonghwa flinched slightly, not at the volume but at the betrayal in his voice.
“Mingi,” Seonghwa said again, quieter this time, trying to keep his voice even, calm, because one of them had to be. “I care about her. It’s not—this isn’t just some random thing. I didn’t mean for it to go like this.”
Mingi had been holding back, even with his voice rising, even with his chest heaving like he was swallowing down the fire boiling in his gut.
But then Seonghwa said it—I care about her.
And that was it.
Something in Mingi snapped like a rubber band stretched too tight. His whole face twisted into something Seonghwa had never seen before—anger, betrayal, disbelief—and then he was moving before anyone could stop him.
“You don’t give a fuck, do you?” Mingi snarled, his voice cracking loud enough for the entire bar to hear now. “I told you she was off limits. You knew she was off limits, and you went behind my back anyway?”
“Mingi—”
“No, shut the fuck up!” Mingi lunged, shoving the table out of the way so hard glasses tipped and beer spilled everywhere. The music barely covered the crash as the bottles hit the floor.
And then his fist connected hard across Seonghwa’s jaw. The sound was so loud it cut through the music, through the crowd chatter. The whole bar turned to look, heads swiveling in unison.
“Holy shit,” Wooyoung muttered, half in shock, half impressed, even as Hongjoong grabbed him by the arm and hissed for him to shut up.
Seonghwa staggered back, the taste of blood sharp in his mouth, eyes going wide—not because Mingi hit him, but because Mingi’s words burned worse than the punch.
“You think this is just about you?” Mingi was yelling now, furious, pacing forward again. “You just wanted to get your dick wet, is that it? With my sister?”
That did it.
Seonghwa’s jaw tightened, his chest heaving. “Don’t talk about her like that.”
“Oh, now you care how I talk?” Mingi shoved him hard, sending him stumbling back against a chair. “You go behind my back, sneak around with her for months, and now you’re gonna get mad about words?”
“I said,” Seonghwa gritted out, finally shoving him back this time, his own temper boiling now, “don’t talk about her like that.”
And then it was chaos.
Mingi swung again, this one wilder, fueled by pure rage, and Seonghwa caught his wrist before it landed, shoving him back so hard they both crashed into another table. Drinks went flying. Someone screamed.
“Both of you, knock it off!” Hongjoong was yelling, but neither of them heard him.
“YOU THINK THIS IS A JOKE?” Mingi roared, trying to break free from the arms grabbing at him now—Yeosang, Wooyoung, even Jongho trying to hold him back. “I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU, SEONGHWA. SHE’S OFF LIMITS. SHE’S BEEN OFF LIMITS SINCE DAY ONE.”
“She’s not just your sister!” Seonghwa snapped back, trying to shove the guys off him so he could move, eyes blazing now. “She’s not some kid you get to control anymore, Mingi—”
“SHUT YOUR MOUTH!” Mingi bellowed, lunging again when he broke free, and then they were both on the floor, fists flying, chairs scraping as people scrambled to get out of the way.
The bartender was yelling now too, telling them to take it outside, but no one was listening. The music had stopped. The whole bar was staring. Seonghwa caught another punch to the side before finally swinging back, his own anger breaking through because Mingi’s words wouldn’t stop—
“—JUST A PIECE OF ASS TO YOU, HUH?—”
“—SHE MEANS MORE TO ME THAN YOU THINK!” Seonghwa roared back, landing a punch of his own this time, his voice raw, desperate, like he needed Mingi to hear it over the chaos.
“—YOU’RE DEAD, SEONGHWA, YOU HEAR ME? DEAD—”
“STOP IT!” Hongjoong barked, but no one was listening because now half the bar was trying to separate them, hands everywhere, pulling, shoving, people yelling over each other. “Get them the fuck out!” the bartender screamed finally, pointing toward the door.
And then, somehow, they were all being shoved out into the street—Mingi still yelling, Seonghwa shoving back, Wooyoung swearing under his breath, San stumbling drunk and looking like he wanted to disappear into the pavement, Hongjoong apologizing to literally everyone in sight while dragging Yeosang and Yunho with him.
“Stay the fuck away from her,” Mingi spat, chest heaving, pointing a shaking finger at Seonghwa like it took everything in him not to swing again. “I swear to God, Seonghwa, you go near her again, and I’ll kill you.”
Seonghwa wanted to yell, to defend himself, to shove Mingi back for everything he’d just thrown at him — but underneath the adrenaline pumping through his veins was something else.
Guilt.
He knew he should apologize. He knew this looked exactly like the betrayal Mingi thought it was, even if that wasn’t what it was in Seonghwa’s head, in his heart.
But Mingi wasn’t giving him the chance.
“How long?” Mingi barked, spitting the words like they were poison in his mouth. “How long have you been sneaking around with my sister?”
Seonghwa hesitated. It was only for half a second, but Mingi saw it — and that was all it took for him to shove him hard, both hands flat against Seonghwa’s chest, knocking him back a step.
Seonghwa wiped the blood from his lip with the back of his hand, jaw clenched tight. “It started at the party,” he said finally, his voice rough, low. “The one you threw a couple months ago.”
Mingi went very still.
And then he laughed — a short, sharp, disbelieving sound — before his face twisted into something ugly and furious, like Seonghwa had just spat in his face.
“That party?” Mingi repeated, his voice dropping into something quieter but way more dangerous. “The party I let you into my house, trusted you around her, and you—”
“Mingi, listen—”
“You were fucking my sister behind my back this whole time?” Mingi’s voice exploded again, the words ragged and hoarse. “You lied to me. To me, Seonghwa. I trusted you more than anyone.”
“Mingi, I care about her,” Seonghwa bit out, finally snapping back because he couldn’t take the way Mingi was talking like Lily was some secret fling. “I love her.”
That did it.
Another punch launched at him, so fast he barely had time to brace before Mingi’s fist cracked against his cheek again, the pain blinding for a second.
“ENOUGH!” Hongjoong roared, finally grabbing Seonghwa from behind while Wooyoung and Yeosang shoved against Mingi’s chest to hold him back.
“LET ME GO!” Mingi yelled, fighting against them, eyes blazing like he wanted to rip free and tear Seonghwa apart. “I’M NOT DONE WITH HIM!”
“You’re done tonight!” Hongjoong snapped, shoving Seonghwa back so hard his feet scraped on the pavement. “Before the cops get called, for fuck’s sake.”
Mingi was breathing like he’d just run a marathon, shoving away the hands holding him back, glaring at Seonghwa like his stare alone could kill him.
“This isn’t over,” he spat finally, voice shaking with rage. “You hear me, Seonghwa? It’s not fucking over.”
“Mingi, just listen—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Mingi barked, shoving away Yeosang when he tried to calm him down, his face red, jaw tight. “I don’t want to hear another word from you. You stay the hell away from me until I figure out how I’m not gonna murder you.”
⋆. 𐙚 ˚
The second Mingi disappeared down the street, the tension in the air didn’t loosen — it got worse. Seonghwa stood there, chest heaving, his lip split wide open and stinging every time he exhaled too hard. His jaw ached where Mingi had landed his punch, and his knuckles were raw, skin peeling where they’d cracked against bone. He wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, tasting copper on his tongue, the throbbing in his cheek already promising a bruise by morning.
And then his eyes snapped to San.
San, who was standing off to the side looking pale as hell, still frozen in the same spot like he didn’t know whether to run or throw up.
“Dude,” Seonghwa barked, voice hoarse but furious, pointing at him with a trembling hand. “What the fuck, San? You promised. You promised you wouldn’t say a word.”
San blinked like someone had shaken him out of a daze. “I—I didn’t think he’d—”
“You didn’t think?” Seonghwa’s voice cracked sharp, echoing against the brick walls of the alley behind the bar. “You opened your mouth, San. You think Mingi would’ve found out tonight if you just kept it shut?!”
San looked guilty, eyes darting everywhere but Seonghwa’s face, his hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets like he was hoping to disappear into the sidewalk.
But before Seonghwa could say more, Wooyoung was there, stepping between them, his voice sharp but quieter. “Okay, stop screaming at him, this isn’t all on San,” he snapped, eyes hard on Seonghwa. “What the hell, man? How long has this been going on?”
Hongjoong was right behind him, arms crossed, face like thunder. “He’s right. You’ve been hiding this for months?”
“It’s not like that,” he finally managed, voice rough, sounding too much like he was pleading. “It wasn’t—”
“Not like that?!” Wooyoung cut in, eyebrows raised like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You went behind his back, Seonghwa. Mingi’s back. His sister, bro.”
Seonghwa dragged both hands down his face hard, pacing away from them because he couldn’t stand the way they were all looking at him. Like he was the villain here. Like he didn’t already feel sick enough.
He turned back sharply. “You think I don’t know what this looks like?” he snapped, pointing at his own chest, his voice loud again. “You think I don’t get it? I tried telling himt—” He broke off, rnning a hand through his hair, yanking at the roots like it would calm him down. “God, this is such a fucking mess.”
And then it hit him. Mingi. Mingi was going home. Straight home. Straight to her.
Seonghwa froze mid-step, pulling his phone out so fast it almost slipped from his raw knuckles. He unlocked it with shaking fingers, scrolling to her name, hitting call.
It rang. And rang. No answer. She was probably asleep. Unaware of what just happened. Of what was about to happen.
Welcome to American Mate's Master List! The Taglist is CLOSED for this story.
This is an OT7 x Plus Sized/Chubby Reader story. The story will have Mature Scenes. The chapters with these adult themes will have (M) in the chapter name, so please 18+ readers only. Within the chapters, at the start and end of the Mature scene will be the following banner, if you want to skip them.
The Hybrid K-pop group BTS is on tour in America; of course, things don't start out the way they should, but after an encounter with Y/n, things change but will everyone follow Fate?
It's Time to Meet the Bangtan Pack
Chapter 1 - Two Weeks Early
Let's introduce you to the world of Hybrids and Playmates. It really is quite simple until a VIP Potential Client's manager walks into your office two weeks early, and it's only a skeleton crew right now.
Chapter 2 - The Playmate Meeting
Bangtan Pack arrives at Playmate Services Inc., USA Idol Division. It's time for the pack to meet the unsigned Playmates, but things don't go as well as planned.
Chapter 3 - Following Instincts
Dealing with the aftermath of the accident, Bangtan Pack reacts upon instincts, some more than others. Y/n learns a few new things.
Chapter 4 - First Case of Alpha Space
Y/n may call herself a Hybrid supporter but never has she dealt with something like this. Y/n gets to see firsthand some of what an Alpha is like when they get a little lost in their instincts.
Chapter 5 - Heated Discussions (M)
Y/n didn't want to cause trouble, but that seemed to be all she did. However, Bangtan Pack thinks sometimes the trouble is worth it.
Chapter 6 - A Proposition for You
Things get intense for Bangtan Pack and Y/n, but not in a good way. Meeting the doctor tonight has bigger implications than Y/n thought was possible.
Chapter 7 - Is This a Joke
After proposing to Y/n the option to become their playmate, the Bangtan Pack struggles to convince her to accept their Prime Alpha's offer. Will Y/n be persuaded or will she run from Fate unknowingly?
Chapter 8 - Time to Tell the Family Pack (M)
While the Bangtang Pack is excited to have Y/n join as a "Play"mate, that may not be the case for her family pack.
Chapter 9 - Shadows of the Past (M)
It becomes clear that pack dynamics can vary from pack to pack. This sometimes leads to interesting reactions. It's where the past can be seen influencing the present that will shadow all.
Chapter 10 - A Date in the Right Direction
After the visit from Dr. Blackwell, some of the Bangtan pack start behaving differently. Is it a good thing or a bad thing? Maybe the eldest Alpha has some insight. (This chapter is Seokjin-centric in honor of his coming home from the military)
Chapter 11 - Just a Staff Member
Y/n stands up for someone else, and everything starts falling apart. Last night was a dream but the reality of the situation finally hits.
Chapter 12 - Everyone Deserves a Second Chance
It's time to make a choice that can make for an adventure or change y/n's life.
Chapter 13 - Shall we?
It's time for the date with Namjoon. Getting ready becomes more fun than you think it could be with an unexpected surprise and new friends, but what happens as the night goes on?
Chapter 14 - Does it Always End in Ruin?
Scenting in a car with the Prime Alpha goes better than expected, but once they return to the pack house, things take a turn for Y/n.
WARNINGS FOR CHAPTER 15! This is a heavy chapter. Please read before reading the full chapter. Thank you 💜💜💜
Chapter 15 - The Pack Meeting and Troubled Pasts
Y/n shares her history with Bangtan Pack and finds she isn't the only one with a dark family life.
American Mate (16) - We are Alphas
Bangtan Pack discusses what to do next, followed by Namjoon's attempt to correct things.
As a paid member of my Patreon, you can read extra spicy smutty scenes and additional content, and have early release benefits for each chapter.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Reader Asks
Has the Bangtan Pack been with a woman before?
How would The Bangtan Pack react to finding Y/n dancing?
Additional Content
Meet Alpha Giant Flemish Rabbit Jungkook's Family
Patreon Artwork Poll Results (1)
American Mate (5) - Extended Scenting Scene (M)
American Mate (8) - Extended/ Additional Scene (M)
