#v: soulmates

[midorinoeiyu]

00:00:00 @pinky-alienqween :3

<<In a universe where everyone is born with numbers on their wrists counting down to when they'll meet their soulmate, send me 00:00:00 for my muses reaction to their numbers hitting zero when they meet yours.>> @pinky-alienqween

Midoriya had always been on the shyier, quieter side of life. Quirkless for most of his youth, combined with an analytic mind, left him rather lonely. So the only comfort he had was a counting timer on his writs. Occasionally, the timer would go up or down depending on the way either he or his soulmate would make a major or even seemingly minor decision.

With the help of a flashy new quirk and the training from All Might, Izuku was quick to find himself at UA with a fresh batch of students to learn about and possibly become friends with. So excited he barely noticed the timer on his wrist had significantly gone down until it was counting below a minute.

... 00:00:58

Distracted by Kacchan's anger at his appearance in the school he didn't see the numbers in black ink slowly counting down past thirty... twenty.. ten...

It wasn't until the door slid open behind him as he took a nervous step back from Kacchan that he ran into someone as he backed up, eyes drifting to see the numbers on his wrist flick down..

00:00:00

Turning his head he would look back at the person he had run into and blink wide emerald eyes at them in shock. "O-oh.. Hi..?"

[godmadeaterribleerror]

I Could Have You

Read on A03!

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, Love Confessions, Smut (p in v, oral both receiving), light angst, soulmates, sex pollen.

Summary/Warnings: Dean is hit with a lust spell, and it doesn't seem to only be effecting him. No one's really sure why, and Dean refuses to give in to the curse, so you'll just ride this out.

You'll defiantly be able to just ride this out.

Author's Note: I had a lot of fun with this one, I hope you enjoy it!

Title from Normal Fucking Rockwell by Lana Del Ray

Word Count: 6k

You’re losing your mind.

Your skin is on fire, your back is flat on the cold bathroom floor, and you’re moaning and whining and bucking into the air but nothing is fixing this. Nothing is relieving you, not your fingers or the pillows or the toy a very red-faced Sam had bought you. Nothing is going to save you, because only one, stupid, handsome, selfless idiot can, and he’s suddenly too good to just fuck you.

Hell, that idiot is the only reason this is happening. According to Sam and Bobby, Dean got hit with a sex spell in Colorado, you started whimpering for him in South Dakota, and you’re not allowed to have sex with him for… reasons.

Reasons no one seems willing to fully share with you, but reasons.

You know Dean wants you. You’ve known he wants you. Neither of you have ever been able to do something about that—never going beyond flirting and lingering touches and stares—but you’re certain he feels the same way. Maybe not the exact same way, because you want whatever Dean offers you, his body or mind or heart or very soul, but you know he’s attracted to you. And if the countless little pieces of evidence you’ve hoarded in your brain—winks and smirks and long, apperceive scans of your body—weren’t enough for you to know, this was. You’d heard Dean roar your name from outside Bobby’s cabin as the Impala door slammed. You’d seen the feral, lust-blown expression on his face as he’d charged at you. Sam had tackled him to the ground as you’d grown a little dizzy with need, and Bobby grabbed your wrist, dragging you upstairs. Away from Dean, from the cure, from his big hands and soft mouth and huge-

“You’re gonna need to stay in here.” Bobby had muttered, refusing to meet your eyes as he shuffled out of the room. “Least until we get Dean’s head right, or figure out what the hell is going on.”

It’s been almost a day, and they’ve made almost no progress. From Sam’s last update, all they’re certain of is: Sex spell, you and Dean, no other options except you and Dean.

“What do you mean no other options,” you’d said, leaning up to frown at Sam. “Did Dean-“

“No.” Sam shakes his head, giving you a sheepish expression. “I mean, Bobby and I suggested it, but he said no.”

“Oh,” you’d mumbled, falling back down on the mattress. “Why?”

Sam had shrugged, leaning into your line of vision. “Do you want to have sex with me?”

“No, Sam, what the fuck-“

“That’s why.”

He’d stood up and left, and you hadn’t had a clue what the hell he was talking about. Sure, you didn’t want to have sex with him, but he was like a brother to you. Dean, somehow, wasn’t. Dean was Dean. And it wasn’t like you’d say no to a random, no-strings attached hookup right now-

Something had tugged in your gut, and you’d realized—staggering to the toilet and vomiting up your lunch—that you could not do a random hookup. You wanted Dean. You needed him. You might die if you didn’t get him, and it had to be him, and he must feel it too, but when you’d asked Sam he said no.

“No?!” You’d rolled over on the floor to glare up at him, wishing you could find the strength to surge up and punch him in his stupid, apologetic face. “What do you mean No?!”

“Dean, um,” Sam had sighed again, and if he kept doing that you were going to kick him in the balls. “He made us lock him in the safe room. He won’t come out until we cure him.”

“Why did he-“ You’d cut yourself off as it hit you, another, softer wave of sickness rolling over your body. The sickness lived in your heart. This sickness was made of the tragic reality that Dean might want you, but he didn’t want you. Maybe that was why he’d never made a move. Maybe he was attracted to you physically, but couldn’t see you like that, and didn’t really want to try to.

Maybe Dean was disgusted by the idea. Maybe he hated that his body found you hot, because he thinks of you like you think of Sam.

“Oh,” you’d rolled back onto your stomach, and prayed Sam would leave soon so you could go back to humping the floor. “Okay.”

Sam had said your name, waiting until you hummed an acknowledgment to continue. “We’re going to fix this-“

“I know.” You’d let out a long, slow breath, curling into your own body. “We always do.”

They would fix this. And then you’d have to look Dean in the eyes, and find a way to be okay with his rejection. Teach yourself how to not turn into a pining dumbass, chasing after someone who obviously didn’t want you. You wouldn’t lose him, he was your best friend, but you’d also have to learn to pretend it didn’t feel like your heart hadn’t just been ripped out of your chest and stomped on.

And now you’re here. Hoping Sam and Bobby will fix this soon, crawling into the empty bathtub to try and sleep. The bed is too warm, too intimate, to inviting of fantasies that will never be reality. Daydreams of Dean’s hands on you, trailing over your skin and setting of little sparks as he maps your body. Those same hands pushing open your thighs, two of his fingers teasing over your pussy, his mouth wrapping around your nipple as he started pumping and scissoring and crooking inside you-

There’s a knock on the bathroom door, and you yank your own fingers out of your cunt, wiping them on the towel as you speak, your voice far too hoarse. “Yeah, Sam?”

“Not Sam.” Bobby grumbles, his voice slightly muffled through the door. “You decent?”

You toss a towel over your body, having long abandoned clothing. “Yep, is everything-“

You cut yourself off as Bobby pushes the door open, his face angled up to avoid you.

“I said I’m decent, Bobby, you can look.”

He grunts, and you sit up a little straighter, making your voice a little firmer.

“It’s weirder if you don’t, you know.”

Bobby nods, his gaze slowly dropping to yours as he sits on the toilet, bracing his arms on his knees. “Sorry.” He mutters. “Ain’t tryin’ to make it uncomfortable. Just not lookin’ to see one of my, uh-“

“I know,” you sigh, leaning your head back on the tile. “I get it. Must be weird seeing Dean as well.”

“Eh.” Bobby shrugs. “I’ve walked in on him with lady company before, this ain’t new-“

“But it’s new with me?” You ask, raising your brows, and Bobby glares at you.

“I didn’t help raise you girl. And you’re just as important to me as those boys, but you’re also a girl. I mean, not a girl, but I don’t got those parts-“

“Jesus, Bobby.” You mumble, bringing your knees up to your chest. “I’m teasing. I know what you mean, I promise, just,” you swallow, shaking your head slightly. “Sorry. I’m tired.”

Bobby rolls his eyes, but his voice becomes a little softer, and far less panicked. “That ain’t nice, kid, you’re gonna give an old man a heart attack.”

“You’d be fine. I know CPR.”

He gives you a flat look. “We both know you ain’t in any condition to give me CPR.”

You wave him off. “I’d call Sam.”

“He wouldn’t hear you, he’s down in the panic room with-“

Bobby cuts himself off, and you roll your head to the side, giving him a bored glare.

“You can say his name, Bobby.”

“Fine.” He grunts. “Sam’s down checkin’ on Dean. He,” Bobby frowns at the air. “He still ain’t listenin’ to reason.”

You hum, hoping Bobby doesn’t notice how you’ve moved the towel between your thighs, just for something. “Reason?”

“We don’t have anythin’ to cure this except, uh, that way.” Bobby mutters. “And he’s still insistin’ we keep him chained up.”

“Ah.” You swallow. “Awesome.”

Bobby says your name, and it’s gentle. Like he’s consulting a child who’s had a nightmare, instead of a grown woman who was just finger-fucking herself in a tub. “You don’t gotta pretend this ain’t hurtin’ you.”

“I mean, it doesn’t feel good-“

“Not the spell.” Bobby says, and you frown at him.

“What-“

“Dean. He’s bein’ a fuckin’ dumbass, and you don’t need to act like he’s not.”

Your voice drops to a whisper. “He’s not what?”

“Killin’ you.” Bobby grunts, scanning over your face. “Rippin’ your heart out and take a big fat shit on it.”

You grimace. “That’s gross, Bobby-“

“Truth ain’t always sunshine and glitter-“

“It’s not the truth!” You snap, your voice suddenly harsh as something wilts and twists in his your chest. “I’m fine! I get it! Dean doesn’t want to do that, and that’s not his fault.”

Bobby leans back on the toilet, holding your glare with his own. “Why do you think you and Dean are the only idjits gettin’ hit by this? Why isn’t Sam humpin’ pillows and leavin’ stains on my walls?”

You feel a rush of heat from that thought—the image of Dean fucking into his hand flashing through your mind and leaving a mark between your thighs—and your voice is almost a squeak. “Because Dean’s the one that got hit?”

“Sam says he was in the line of that bitch’s fire too. But only Dean got,” Bobby makes a vague gesture over you. “This.”

“I don’t-“

“And Sam ain’t in love with his fuckin’ brother, so he was safe.”

You flush, gaping at Bobby for a long, wired silence, and when you speak your voice is a squeak.

“I- I’m, I’m not in love with Dean. I mean, maybe I have a crush, or something, but that’s, that’s not love-“

Bobby gives you a flat, disbelieving look. “You feel safer ‘round him?”

“Yeah, but I-“

“You laugh at all his jokes?”

“Maybe, but he can be funny-“

Bobby mutters your name, shaking his head. “I love that boy like a son, and he ain’t half as funny as he thinks he is.”

You frown. “He’s funny-“

“He can be,” Bobby shrugs. “But his jokes ain’t all winners. And you laugh at every single oneof ‘em. And,” he sighs, rubbing his beard. “He laughs at all’a your jokes.”

“Hey.” You scowl. “I’m a riot-“

“Didn’t say you weren’t. But even you can miss, girl. And he never seems to care.”

“So?” You shuffle on the floor, desperate not to starting grinding on the air in front of Bobby, but getting more and more wet from just the mention of Dean. “We’re friends, friends laugh at each other’s jokes-“

“Do friends get connected by sex spells ‘cross state lines?”

“I dunno,” you mumble. “Never been hit by a sex spell before.”

“You weren’t hit by one,” Bobby snaps your name, starting to sound exasperated. “Dean was. And that’s my damn point. Sam and I, we,” he sighs, giving you a long, confusing look. “We got it. We know what’s goin’ on.”

“Fuck,” you sit up, glowering at him. “Why didn’t you lead with that-“

“Cause you ain’t gonna like it.” Bobby grunts. “It’s an old location spell. Back in the day rich assholes would cast it on their highest eldest sons, so he could find his,” Bobby cringes, his last word pushed through his teeth. “Mate.”

“Mate?” You repeat, letting out a dry, huffing laugh. “What are we, fucking dogs-“

“Soulmate.” Bobby mutters, giving you a look that might have been sympathetic, or kind, or pitiful, but you’re suddenly a little dizzy and can’t really think or see.

“That’s not,” you shake your head. “No, Bobby, soulmates aren’t real-“

Bobby says your name, his voice stern. “You should know better than to say somethin’ like that in our line of work. Sam called Cas, and he said they’re real, but population increases or somethin’ made them ‘logistically impossible’, so they aren’t on the shop line no more.”

“But- But wouldn’t we have like, I don’t know, noticed? If that was true?”

“You shoulda.” Bobby shrugs. “Cas seemed pretty shocked you hadn’t. Said he had assumed you knew, because the pull is like a magnet or some shit. Spell’s only an enhancer, to move the train along.”

“So why-“

“You hopped in right after Dean got back from hell.” Bobby mutters. “Dean’s soul mighta been fucked enough not to recognize you. Spell mighta jumpstarted it.”

“Oh.”

“Yep.”

It’s a few minutes before you speak again, and Bobby waits patiently as you spiral. Down, down, down in your head, trying to rationalize how this could possibly be true. It couldn’t be true. There was no way it was true. Sure, you’ve liked Dean since you first met him, from the moment he introduced himself with a cocky grin, smirk, and fake name. You liked him even more when you called him out on his fake name, and he’d just chuckled, figured out you were a hunter, and offered to buy you a drink. You’d liked him when that drink had turned into a long, sleepless night of only conversation, and when you’d joined him and Sam on the road. And you’d kept thinking of him like that, and you thought of him all the time, but that didn’t mean anything. You didn’t love him. It’s not like you feel better when you wake up in a motel bed and he’s next to you, or a smile always tugs at your lips whenever he so much as looks at you, or the thought of him being in alone or pain makes you physically ill. It’s not like, if he grabbed your hand and told you he was done with hunting—the only life you’d ever both known—then asked you to join him in a boring, easy apple pie life you’d immediately say yes and kiss him, because you’ll go wherever he goes and he’s the only person you’ve ever really-

Oh.

You might be in love with Dean.

You might be soulmates with Dean.

“What, um,” you swallow, watching Bobby carefully. “What did Dean think? Of this?”

“We have told him yet.” Bobby’s jaw ticks, holding your gaze. “We ain’t sure he’ll-“

“Yeah.” You whisper, turning your attention back to the ceiling. There’s a little crack on it. Jagged and split through the white paint, easy to stare at and get lost in. Helpful in pretending this doesn’t hurt like a bitch. “Okay.”

Bobby mutters a promise of at least trying to talk some sense into Dean, but you both know his words are empty. Because Dean won’t believe this. It won’t be a matter of you and Dean, it will just be Dean, believing something like a soulmate could never happen to someone like him. He’ll insist they’re lying, or Cas is wrong, or all of this fucking bullshit.

“You ever wondered about aliens?” He’d asked you once, leaning against the Impala as you lay on the hood, watching him from an upside-down angle.

“Just like, in general?”

“Yeah.”

“I guess,” you’d tilted your head at him. “Why?”

“I dunno, just curious.” There had been another moment of silence, then, “You think they’re real?”

“They have to be right?” You’d reached over your head, grabbing his chin and tilting it up, until he was staring at the night sky. “I mean, look at that, De. It’s huge.”

He’d chuckled, swatting your hand away. “Where have I heard that before-“

“Eat me, Winchester.” You’d rolled your eyes, and his shit-eating grin had grown. “No. Shut it.”

He’d raised his hands in surrender. “Didn’t say a thing.”

“Uh huh.” You’d let your own attention trail up, over the vast darkness above you, splattered in infinite stars that you think—if you really tried—you’d be able to grab and hold in your hands. Maybe offer one to Dean. He’d deserve it.

You were silent for a while longer, you watching the sky, Dean waiting for you to come back to earth, and when he’d spoken again his voice was soft.

“You think you’d want to go? If they were?”

You’d looked back to him with a frown, and found him already looking at you. “What, aliens?”

He’d nodded, and you’d furrowed your brow in thought.

“Maybe. I’ve never thought about it before. I kind of like Earth.” You’d rolled onto your stomach, swinging your legs around to rest in Baby’s open window as you looked down at Dean. “What about you?”

“Nah,” he’d held your gaze, pulling himself up to sit at your side. “Not now.”

“Not now?”

“I would’ve when I was younger, if I coulda taken Sammy with me.” Dean had let out a dry chuckle. “But I’m not that lucky.”

He wasn’t that lucky. Dean didn’t get to be abducted by aliens, because he wasn’t lucky. Because saviors and little lights to guide you forward don’t just drop out of the sky.

But you didn’t drop out of the sky. You’d been on the ground, and tangible, and very, very real.

You feel real, to yourself. You didn’t feel like a possibility, or a myth, or a lie.

And you might love Dean.

And you know that, the longer you don’t get to at least see him, touch him, breathe him, the more you go mad. The harder it becomes to speak to Sam and Bobby when they check on you, the less you allow them to even say the word Dean, because it makes you writhe and moan and everyone just gets very uncomfortable.

So if Dean’s too much of a righteous, noble, self-loathing buttface to do something about this, you will.

You wait until the house is dark and quiet. Until you hear Bobby mutter a goodnight through the door—about an hour ago you’d started whining every other breath and fucking the edge of the bathtub, so Bobby wasn’t coming into the room anymore—and Sam walks in backwards to make sure you’re not dead and have enough food and water. Like you’re a caged animal.

You do feel a little like one. You feel like someone’s sucked everything rational and careful out of your brain and replaced it with Dean. Dean, Dean, Dean, you need him or you’ll die. He needs to need you, or something worse than death will happen.

And you’re willing to risk that, that small possibility of Dean looking at you—bare and wet and pleading for him—and still turning you away, because at least you’ll see him.

You need to at least see him.

It’s shocking easy to sneak around the house. For two seasoned, well-respected hunters, neither Sam nor Bobby seem to wake up as you crawl down to Dean, despite the floorboard creaking under you movements and the downright pathetic whimpers that keep escaping your mouth. It takes all your focus to grab the key to Bobby’s panic room, unlock the door, and push it open.

It’s dark. Pitch black. But you know Dean’s in here, because every nerve is trying to fly off your body and into the shadows. To Dean.

“What the hell are you doing,” Dean groans your name from the back of the room, and you feel molten. “You can’t be here-“

“It’s not your panic room, Dean.” You mumble, pushing yourself up on the wall and fiddling around for the light switch. “I can be wherever I want-“

“Not here.” Dean snaps. “Go.”

You shake your head, and the lights blind you as you flip them on. It takes a moment to adjust—blinking and hugging your body in a desperate play to not leap across the room to Dean the moment you see him—and when you do a high whine escapes your mouth.

Dean looks as feral as you feel. He’s just as naked as you are, just as drenched in sweat and flushed, and—if the proud, massive cock between his legs, standing at full attention and twitching as he scans over you, is any sign—just as aroused.

“Dean.” You whisper. “Please.”

“You need to leave.” He grunts, his fists clenched at his sides. “Now.”

“I don’t want to go-“

“Yes, you do.”

You frown. “You don’t get to tell me what I want, Dean. I want to stay-“

“No,” he hisses, and you might come just from him looking at you like that. Primal and wanting, with a gleam in his eyes that feels like a promise. “You don’t know what you want-“

That gets you to scoff. “Fuck off, asshole-“

“See!” He makes a dramatic gesture, then flinches back from himself. “I, I can’t let you do this. You don’t want me,” Dean mutters your name, running a hand over his face. “The spell wants me. Doesn’t count.”

“Yeah, the spell does want you, you idiot!” You take an unsteady step forward, and he steps back. “Because I want you!”

“No, you don’t-“

“Yes, I do! I need you, Dean, and I think you need me-“

“Doesn’t matter what I need.” He grunts, bracing his body and you take another step. “Go back upstairs.”

“Did Bobby talk to you?”

He scowls. “Bobby’s wrong. That’s- No.”

“Because it’s me?”

“Of course not,” he snaps, and it’s too quick. “Because that, that’s not a thing. People would be runnin’ around, selling soulmates in little bottles if they were real. And we’d have known by now-“

“We do know now.” You whisper, swaying slightly in the middle of the room. “And Cas says-“

“Cas is wrong.” Dean mutters. “I don’t, there’s no way that’s true. Not for me.”

His beautiful, deep eyes look so sad. Glossed over and weighted down of years of that being the truth. That things like that, like this, don’t happen for Dean.

You’d really love to be the first exception.

“What about for me?”

“What are you-“

“What about for me, Dean.” You watch his jaw clench, his nostrils flaring. “Does it get to be true for me?”

He doesn’t answer, and you push on.

“If it’s true for me, it’s you.” You talk another step forward, and this time he doesn’t flinch. “Just you.”

“It’s just the spell.” He mutters, and you don’t think he’s convincing himself. Not when his throat bobs and his eyes darken. “You don’t want me, baby, not really.”

You almost fall over from that. From Dean calling you baby, and saying it the exact same way he says your name. Low and rolling and lined with something soft.

“I do.” You hold your ground, raising your chin. “I want you, Dean Winchester. Fix this.”

He shakes his head, barely a jerked movement, and you start to feel a little faint.

“Dean. I need you to look me in the eyes,” your voice starts to rise, growing pleading and frantic. “And tell me you don’t want me. Say that you wanting me is just the spell, and I’ll go. I promise. I just need to you to fucking say it, Dean, just fucking say you don’t want me or need me or love me-“

He moves before you even realize what’s happening. Almost leaping onto you as his mouth crashed into yours, his hands cupping your face as he walks you back, back, back into the wall and growls down your throat. And you’d been wrong. His hand on you don’t feel like small bursts of electricity. They’re like lighting. Dragging something you hadn’t known existed to the surface, and setting off a storm of need in your body.

“Course I want you,” one arm snakes around your waist, pressing your right into his erection. “Always fucking wanted you. You’re smoking hot,” he starts to kiss over your face, his words slightly muffled against your skin as you cling to his body. “Funnier than I am, and smart as hell. You feel like home and smell so good and, fuck, I’ve lost sleep thinkin’ about how it’d feel to get lost in you. I’d have to be fucking blind and dumb not to want you,” Dean grunts your name, returning your mouth to yours with a painfully soft, gentle, featherlight kiss. “But I’m not-“

“If you say good for me,” you mutter, leaning back to glare at him. “I’ll punch you.” He chuckles, and it’s dry and low, rumbling from his chest into yours. “I’m not-“

“You are.” You whisper, offering him a small, slightly broken smile. You need him to get this. You might start crying if he doesn’t. “You’re good for me. And I want you. I love you.” Something flashes in his eyes, and you don’t care if he believes you. He doesn’t have to believe you. He just needs to get it. “No spell, Dean. I’m here, and I’m yours. Take me.”

Your nails dig into his skin—attempting to leave a mark of him if he turns you away—and his breathing is ragged. Heavy and hot, fanning across your face as he stares at you, just stares at you, why is he just staring at you-

“Dean-“

This kiss is brutal It’s teeth and tongue and bruising lips, like he’s trying to move into your body. His hands are everywhere on you, squeezing your ass and palming your tits, rolling your nipple between two fingers before groaning down your throat when you moan.

“Fuck,” Dean mutters your name, his hand on your ass glides onto your pussy, playing with your folds and flicking at your clit once, twice, three times and you feel fucking high- “So wet for me-“

“For you,” you whimper, nodding stupidly as Dean presses him thumb down on that bundle of nerves, rubbing slowly. “Fuck, Dean, all for you-“ 

“Need to taste you,” he growls, pulling his mouth fully back, watching you grind onto his hand with a dark gaze. “You gonna let me taste you, baby? Let me eat that pretty pussy-“ 

You’ve barely nodded before he’s on his knees, one arm still around your waist to support you both as he dives into your cunt. 

Oh.

He’s good at this. Really, really fucking good at this. You can’t really think anything that’s not Dean, or make any noise that’s not a moan kind of good at this. He’s ravenous and starved, his nose bumping and pressing into your clit in an impossibly mind-numbing rhythm, his tongue plunging in and out of your cunt until your squirming above him, desperate for more.

“Dean,” your hand tug at his hair, and you don’t know if you’re trying to push him deeper or pull him away. “Shit, Dean, I’m gonna cum-“

He groans against you, his eyes opening to watch you come apart above him, and you think he might be getting off on this.

“Please,” you whimper. “God, please, I need to cum-“

Dean bites your clit, and your orgasm crashes through you like a tidal wave. It’s all bliss and relief and a high, bright haze of Dean, and then you’re falling down.

Dean’s pulling you down. Onto his lap as he leans back, moving you to straddle over him as his cock throbs between his legs.

You want to touch him.

You push back on him, just enough for his grip to loosen, and take him in your hand. He’s huge. And pretty. Dicks aren’t supposed to be pretty, but Dean’s is, and it might be because every part of Dean is pretty. Every part of him is impossible pretty, from his cock twitching in your hand as you run your thumb over the slit, to his lidded eyes and parted mouth as he watches you with wonder.

“Shit,” he moans your name, and fuck, even that was pretty. “What are you doing to me-“

“Handjob,” you whisper, placing your free hand lightly on his chest in a silent request for him to lay back. “I think.”

Dean huffs a laugh, leaning back with a smirk. “Ya think? You sure you know what you’re doing with that- Fuck-“

You hum around Dean’s cock, your lips wrapped around the base as your tongue swirls around his shaft, and his groans are sinful. The fire in your corse hadn’t lessened by any means from your orgasm, but it grows unbearable as you move Dean’s hand to your hair and let him guide you up and down. Let him set the pace, moaning when his hips jerk and he hits the back of your throat, and squeezing his thighs in silent reassurance that you’re good. You’re really, really good. You’re grinding onto Dean’s knee as he fucks your face, playing with his balls with your free hand and devouring every bit of slightly slurred praise that falls from his mouth.

“Fucking hell, baby, you always been this good at sucking cock? You’re, shit, you look like a wet dream, look like an angel, fuck.” He hisses at your teeth graze over him. “You look so good like this. Mouth stuffed full of cock, desperate and wet for me-“ You roll your hips against him, and Dean tugs you fully up, smirking at your swollen lips and glossy eyes. “Careful,” he warns, sitting up as his thumb swipes a little bit of drool from your cheek. “When I’m cumming tonight, I’m cumming in you, baby, got that?”

“Yes, please,” you whimper. You’re on the pill anyway. “Dean-“

“C’mere.” He tugs you into his lap with careful hands, scanning over you with a small shake of his head. “Son of bitch, you’re gorgeous. You’re sure you-“

“I’m sure.” You grind against his cock, never looking away from him as the head of him bumps your clit. It goes on for too long, Dean just watching you fuck yourself on his lap with his hands bruising your hips, and you start to whine. “Shit, Dean, need you-“

Dean surges forward, kissing you long and deep and slow, and keeps his brow pressed to yours as he looks down to where you’re moving on him.

“Hold on,” he mutters, and you follow the order without a second thought.

Your arms wrap around Dean’s neck just as he lines himself up, and you almost scream when he pushes into you.

“Shit,” he looks back at you, eyes wide. “Are you-“

“Don’t stop,” you moan, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “Fuck, it feels so good, Dean, don’t stop.”

He nods, kissing the side of your head, and slowly moves into your aching pussy until he bottoms out with a long exhale.

“Gonna, fuck-“ He groans as you squeeze around him. “Can’t do that, baby, I won’t last a minute-

“Sorry,” you mumble against him, playing with the short, soft hair at the nape of his neck. “Didn’t meant to-“

“It’s fine.” He grunts, still not moving. “Just, fuck, you feel so good. So warm,” he groans, pressing his face onto the top of your head. “So tight and warm, feel so good-“

“Dean, please-“

You gasp as he gives one, short thrust upward.

“So good,” Dean growls in your ear, making another small, dizzying movement that presses him right up against that spongey spot deep inside of you. “Ready?”

“Ye-“

You squeal as Dean rises to his knees, keeping himself sheathed inside you as he falls forward, his hand splayed on your back and holding you carefully against him. His face is resting between your breasts, his cock angled so deep inside you it might drive you insane if he doesn’t start to fucking move, and his eyes stay yours as you only watch each other for a long moment.

He’s asking permission. Dean’s not pulling away, but he’s also not moving, because he’s offering you one last chance to turn him down. 

You move one hand to hold his face, wrapping your legs around his waist and squirming around him in silent encouragement.

It snaps something in him. Dean grabs your hand, moves it onto the back of his neck, and lowers you fully onto the ground so you’re caged between him and floor. He scans over you for only a second, a small, cocky smirk crawling onto his face, leans down to give you one last, almost sweet kiss.

A soft moan leaves you as Dean traces his tongue over your lips, and his low growl is the only warning you get before he starts to fuck into you like an animal.

It’s sloppy and wet and loud, skin slapping against skin as Dean abuses your cunt, and fuck you’ve never felt better. You feel full, split open on his cock and right where you belong, alive in a way that seeps right into your soul and ignites your blood into a holy fire of Dean. Groaning your name on your skin and touching you with calloused, big, expert hands. Watching you as you unravel beneath him, scraping your nails over his back and making needy sounds that only spur him on.

You’re going to fly out of your body. Dean’s muscles are ripping above and around you as he fucks you into the floor, and his mouth is mold perfectly onto yours. Neither of you seem to care to breathe, or speak, or do anything but nips and suck and lick at each other. Trying to get impossibly closer, to drag the other over the edge so you can fall with them. You grind up into Dean, and Dean bites your lip. Dean rolls his hips as he bottoms out, making your mouth fall open for his tongue to plunge down your throat, and you scrape and claw as his chest until he groans, and you manage to slip one hand down to play with his balls.

He wins he swats your hand away and starts to rub small, firm circles on your clit. He’s unrelenting, and watching you with an affection that feels a little misplaced for the carnal hunger on his handsome features.

“Always want you,” he mutters your name, pressing his thumb flat against you. “Cum for me, baby.”

Your vision blurs as you find release, and it feels like heaven. Like stars and fire and water and light under your skin, in your blood, like a halo around your head that’s all just the pleasure Dean’s is still wringing from your body. Your pussy is fluttering and gushing around his cock, and it sends him over the edge with a roar, his hips slamming home as he paints the walls of your cunt white.

And when you’re both spent and Dean rolls you over—carefully adjusting you to be right on top of him, his body a barrier between you and the now-cold floor—you feel good. Really, really good. Fucked out and high, nothing trying to burst out of your skin or eat at your stomach. You feel better than you might have ever felt in your whole life. The only warmth in your body is heat you’re trading with Dean, and you feel good.

“We, um.” You trace over his tattoo, looking up at him under your eyelashes. “We should probably talk, or something-“

“Or something.” He agrees, grinning down at you. “Don’t feel like it’s a rush though. Sammy and Bobby will find us in the morning. Right now,” Dean kisses your brow, squeezing his arms around your body. “You’re all mine.”

You can be all his. It’ll be really, really easy to be all Dean, because he hasn’t said he loves you, but he does. You know he does. It lives in how he’s still touching and holding you, still talking to you like you’re his best friend and not a mistake, and running his hands through your hair mindlessly.

And you’ll have a lot to talk about later. A lot to fight about, and fuck about, and laugh and cry and scream about.

But right now you just have to be Dean’s.

And that will be really easy.

End Note: Bobby Singer you are fifty times the father John Winchester could ever HOPE to be.

If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

Taglist

@artemys-ackles @ambiguous-avery

[minimomoe]

How to Train your Demon

Pairing: trueform! Sukuna x Fem Reader

Summary: Life has all kinds of wins and losses. You don't know which category to put your new demon husband in though.

Tags: MDNI!, red string of fate trope, true form sukuna, librarian reader, soul mates, reincarnation, accidental summoning, love at first sight (buti it's one-sided (until it's not)), Sukuna is demon, but he's v much in love, smut and stuff eventually i guess....

Song inspo: E.V.O.L- MARINA

Part I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI. XII. XIII. (completed!)

Rule no. 1: Don't show fear

It was a mistake. A comical, nonsensical, monumental mistake, but a mistake nonetheless. You didn’t mean to create a soul tie with a demon . All you did was read a torn up book from the library. Was it an occult book about spiritual practices in the Japanese Heian era? Yes… but it doesn’t warrant an eldritch horror being your life partner. 

Actually, according to the demon, you didn’t create the soul tie, he has been waiting for you all his life. Cute, but it didn’t make the situation any better. Damn your natural inclination to catch the old and withered items thrown into the donation boxes of the library you worked at. It just pained your heart to see pages falling out of books, and the ominous leather bound grimoire was no exception. 

Restoration was one of your favorite things to do. Knowledge is always worth saving, no matter how old it may be. Books were your life. You found yourself lost in them, enchanted, terrified, taught. You had no genre as your favorite. Everything was welcomed, nothing was off limits. You knew a little bit of every culture, every study, every block buster fantasy. If you could, you’d build a machine that would let you live inside of a book and experience the scene yourself. 

Technically you could ask your all powerful demon to do that, but you didn’t want to deal with him right now.

You still weren’t all too sure on how it happened. First you were glueing the pages back to the spine of the book, running your fingers over the deckled edges when you opened a page that was stuck together. You carefully peeled it apart, a task that took ten minutes to do to avoid any additional tears, and opened up to a page that was different from the rest. The words were written in a rush, the strokes of the characters dragging much longer than it should. You only knew a tiny bit of Japanese (but much more of Latin, Russian, Yoruba, and French from having just an abundance of time on your hands), but this time you could make out some of the words. 

You muttered the ones you knew for sure, used context clues for the ones that were beyond reading. It didn’t make a lick of sense to you. You closed the book with a clamp so that the glue would set and decided to come back to it tomorrow since it was closing time. There was no rush of wind, flash of lightning, or eerie sounds. Just you and the screech of a thousand cicadas as soon as you stepped outside to walk to your car. A normal Thursday night.

Until it wasn’t. 

You shuffled around your house with a new arc from your favorite novelist in one hand, a glass of wine in the other, and the largest frame of glasses known to man perched on your nose. Jazz music quietly spilled out from your hidden speakers, preventing the house from getting a little too quiet as you lived alone with your cat. It was a total boring cliche, you were well aware, but you were happy with your life. You had friends who you trusted, a great relationship with your parents, and just recently got out of a relationship with someone who you didn’t hate, you just grew apart. There was no chaotic, negative energy to feast on in your household and you liked it that way. 

You thought you heard your cat clawing on the door when you were snuggled away in your bed. You flipped the covers over and went to let her in to snuggle with you. 

“I’m so sorry, Cleo. I thought you were already in here with me,” you said, scooping her up from the floor. The ragdoll cat begrudgingly accepted your kisses of apology. You set her down on the bed, watching her find a good spot to curl up in and smiled. You went to reach for your wine glass you knew that you set on your nightstand, but there was nothing in the glass. You were sure that you didn’t finish it. You paced yourself well enough for it to last until at least chapter five, but there wasn’t a drop of alcohol left. 

“The quality of sake has diminished over the years, I see.” 

The voice came from all around the room but also deep in your chest. Cleo hissed, making a run for it out of your door, leaving you wildly spinning around for the intruder. You lunged for the heavy duty taser you kept in your nightstand, but when you turned around there was nobody there.

“What is that?” 

The bone chilling voice spoke again. Was it one person or many, you couldn’t tell. 

“I— I have a weapon!” You tried to steady your voice but it was hopeless. You were terrified. There was nobody there but you could feel a heavy presence in the room. 

“You call that a weapon?” The voice laughed. “The only weapon my wife needs is me.”

The statement made you falter. “Wife? Who are you?”

You turned around once again and nearly jumped out of your skin. A man, or a close approximation of one, sat on your bed flicking through your book. It was impossible, but he had twice as many limbs on his top half than he should, and double the amount of eyes. They were bright and red when scanning through your novel. “What language is this?” 

“F-french,” you whispered. You were dreaming. You had to be. That was the only way this could be happening. Still, dream or not, you had to protect yourself. You pressed your taser and watched the prongs leap out and touch his bare skin. He looked unbothered, merely looking down at his stomach where the taser landed and moved his arm to reveal a mouth on his abdomen. A tongue flopped out and licked the prongs, dragging it back to the mouth and the taser was slowly dragged out of your hands and into the mouth. You watched in horror as the hard plastic was crushed to pieces in front of your very eyes. 

“Useless weapon,” he reiterated, this time looking directly at you. “Don’t insult me again.” 

“Pl—please don’t hurt me.” There was nothing left to do but beg. You already punched yourself till blood was drawn. This was not a dream, you were looking at a real, evil monster who didn’t know French and ate high voltage tasers. 

He rose from your bed. You crawled away as much as you could until you bumped into a wall and still you wanted to move through it. He stood before you, looking over your trembling frame and called out for you. 

“Rise.” 

You rose, unsure if you really had a choice in the matter. One of his many hands cupped the side of your face. A clawed thumb brushed away the tear that fell on your cheek.

“Why do you weep?”

“Um… well… I don’t really know who you are,” you said honestly. You were still pinned to the wall, unable to flee and he took up your entire frame of sight. He nodded, removing his hand from your face and raising it in the air. You thought he was going to strike you and you flinched. When you opened your eyes again he was multiple steps away from you, still raising his palm.

“Time has faded your memory of me. You are my wife, and I am your husband. The string of fate proves that we are mates.” 

He stated it so matter of factly. You are my wife, and I am your husband. My wife, your husband. Mates. Forget dreaming, you have officially lost your mind. 

“I don’t… remember agreeing to that,” you said carefully. The words “husband” and “wife” bounced in your head in a crazy echo. You slumped to the floor, your body suddenly very tired. A laugh bubbled up your throat and escaped your mouth. So much for your boring life.

“Do you not feel the connection? The string is tied from my last finger to yours.” You looked at your hand, not seeing any supposed string and shook your head. 

He frowned. “You do not agree to it. It has been decided.” He crouched in front of you, inspecting your face earnestly. One side of his face was strange, not normal skin, instead inhuman, bumpy and shades darker. 

“You look the same after all this time,” he murmured. “I will make you remember.” 

“Let’s not do that,” you said quickly. “I don’t even know your name and I am not married. I’m a librarian and I have a cat. And I have never, ever met you before.”

“I am known as Sukuna, among other names,” he responded to one of your distresses. “What title is a librarian?”

This time you laughed. An deranged laugh, loud and unbecoming. Sukuna waited as impatiently as he could for you to be finished, but you kept on cackling. Once out of breath, you wiped the tears out of your eyes and leaned against the wall. It finally dawned on you how this happened. The drying grimoire that was locked up in the library was responsible for this strange turn of events.

“It’s not a title, at least, not in the way you’re thinking. It’s my job, one that I love very much. Was I ever a common worker before?”

Sukuna bristled at the thought. Even his tummy mouth frowned. “You were a queen. You wanted nothing because you had everything.”

“Interesting,” you mused. “I’m so not your girl.”

“I’m not interested in little girls.”

“Kudos to you. I think I’m going to sleep now. I’m clearly much more tired than I think I am.”

“We have things to discuss,” Sukuna protested, but you already slipped under the sheets. If I force myself to sleep he will go away, you thought. 

Instead you felt the dip of the other side of your bed and flung your eyes open. Sukuna was in bed, with you, staring your down with his four eyes. He was much too close for your liking. 

You looked at him wildly. “What are you doing?” 

“Resting with you.” 

“Get out of my bed!”

“Are you no longer tired?” 

“I am tired. Extremely tired, but that doesn’t mean I want you on my bed! Stay on the floor or something!”

Sukuna rolled his eyes at you and turned on his back, his arms crossed in two sets on his chest. 

“You were always particular with your sleeping habits. I see that hasn’t changed either.”

“Stop acting like you know me!”

Sukuna got off the bed to sit on the floor like you asked. The only problem is that you could feel his gaze prickling your skin, making it impossible to ignore him. You didn’t feel bad about kicking him out, he certainly didn’t have a pout on his face because of it, but something needed to be done. 

“Face the door instead of me,” you mumbled. 

His eyes twitched. “Commanding me like footmen,” he grumbled, yet he still turned away. You wondered if his obedience had something to do with the book. Sukuna had the aura of someone who doesn’t listen to anyone, yet he’s been more than understanding with you. Maybe you really were his wife. Maybe you were having a very elaborate and maladaptive daydream. You thought of “maybe’s” until the sun came up, still staring at the back of his pink, spiky hair. 

Your alarm chirped for you to get ready for work. You groaned. You didn’t get a second of sleep. You were too afraid of being eaten by the demon you accidentally summoned. You reached out to shut off the ringing clock as quietly as you could, but Sukuna touched it first. 

“How strange,” he said, turning the clock around in his hand. He brought it up to his ear, shook his head, tapped the glass. Then he crushed it. It was made of plastic, but the shards bent and broke to the floor left his hand unscratched. You gaped at the mess he made as he let the remains fall to the floor. “It was making a wretched sound.”

“Yeah…” you sighed. “It was pretty noisy.”

You had to find out how to get rid of him. Fast. 

Thanks for reading loves!! lemme know what ya think xx

Part: I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI. XII. XIII.

M.list || Twitter || Ao3

[scre6m]

[silverhands-input]

V getting worse faster the story progresses is because he's not taking the blockers because he loves having Johnny around actually and neither of them realize that's what's happening until it's too late but V won't take the blockers still because Johnny is quite literally the closest person he has and he finds so much comfort in his presence

[specterthief]

probably the most consistent piece of characterization the protagonist gets through the new demon haunt dialog is that he never smiles - it comes up really often across a ton of different demon personality types

but when he and aogami finally reunite... 🥲💕

[thatgoddamngingerundercut]

‘Butter’ Jacket Shoot Sketch Day Three - RM, j-hope, Jimin, and V

[agusrkive]

“D0 U WANNA SEE MY CAT?”

gone wrong

summary: woman faces the consequence of inviting an innocent guy into her house who just wants to see her ‘cat’.

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5

[daichiduskdrop]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚⋆·˚ ༘ *𝙎𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 ⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

Chapter 06

Pairing: BTS Ot7 X fem! reader

Genre: A/B/O AU, Fluff, Strangers to lovers,

Warnings: Slight implications of rape

Taglist: @thelilbutifulthings @ilovemoneymorethenmen @singukieee @cherrysainttt @felicityroth @mageprincess7 @lucis-noctiana @danielle143 @osakis-gf @girl-nahh @vintageoldfashion @neverthefirstchoice @juju-227592 @silentreadersthings @i-have-no-life-charlie

Words: 3512

Previous:

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

Pulling you closer to his body the pack alpha started to calmy walk towards the underground parking lot exit. Hearing the locking sound of the door he didn't bother to turn around, instead focusing on you fully. 

Your eyes were pretty much completely closed, only fluttering from time to time. With the light too harsh on them you let a soft whine leave you, and grabbed closer on Namjoons t-shirt, burrowing your face in the crook of his neck once again. 

„It's okay babypup, just rest for some more now.” He said, his voice calming to your ears, further settling you down. As an omega it was very normal for you to sleep more than any different second genders do. Used to resting for over 11 hours a day you were always sleepy. 

While you enjoyed being able to fall asleep so quickly in many scenario's, it was also greatly inconvenient in others. Whenever you had to pull an all-nighter for the final exams at school it was very annoying. 

You didn't really like the taste of coffee, plus pretty much any caffeine or even theine was just a terrible thing to drink for any omegas. A light fruit tea was okay, since it doesn't include any of the actual theine, but anything bit stronger like a pure matcha tea could be bit problematic sometimes. 

You didn't always struggle with the different foods and drinks that could potentionally be harmful for you, but from time to time you really didn't check what was included out of laziness and ended up terribly sick. It was just a curse that came with your second gender. 

You were used to having long hours at school, getting up to be there by 8 and leaving some time during the afternoon, sometimes you had to stay behind to finish your work up. So if you were still really sleepy in the morning, it was quite normal for you to eat something to replenish your energy at least slightly. 

The university you went to wasn't very quiet since all second genders were allowed to study in it, so you weren't really able to relax there most of the time.

You loved the school in a way but it also brought great troubles for you. Whenever you told anyone about the school you frequently visited, they usually looked down at you from then on.

You of course understood very well that art is less important to people and humanity than doctors and nurses, lawyers or even teachers, but there was just something about it that always called for your name since you were young. 

You used to draw for fun when you were small, while you were still a part of your old pack. Your family supported you when you were still young, but as you got older and your relationship with art didn't fade they would start to get more upset. 

Yea, you were an omega which often had hard times getting into more serious industries like education and health services, management or even office and administrave support. For those a lot of the time only betas and sometimes even only alphas were allowed to work at.

So with only a few different options for your future, you decided to pursue your early dreams even when it brough a great disappointment for your pack. 

It was quite welcomed to have omegas not work at all in the more traditional packs, and if you were in a modern one it was often that the omegas worked as librarians or maybe personal shoppers too if they didn't mind the crowds and loudness the malls often carried. It was usual to work as a babysitter too.

If you were an omega that wanted to work these were the well welcomed options, easy to maintain and keep track of, so the pack always knew about theirs omegas well-being.

Even if the pack was very modern thinking regarding the set rules, there was absolutely no way any alpha in their right mind would allow their pack's omega out of sight and not know about their plans and whereabouts. 

Some people were just dangerous, and so letting your omega go somewhere on their own, even if they wanted to do so very badly was a very risky act noone wanted to fully admit to. 

It was often times other alphas that brought the biggest dangers, usually after being rejected by the lowest second genders that didn't accept their packbound.

Feeling sour they just start to hate them more and more and if any omega comes in sight without being protected by their pack it happens sometimes that they let their anger out. Doesn't matter which is the way for them to do it. 

For such reasons it's more than normal for anyone of the pack to be with their omega most of the time. You are going to try on that dress now? Okay, I will wait next to the changing rooms. You want to refill your cup? Here, I'll do it for you, you just wait with the others. 

With how rare it is for omegas to fully accept a forming bond and become a part of it, the packs are more than ready to cherish them like the finest gems. 

Namjoon too was very keen and felt a deep satisfaction in keeping you close around. His pack was a more modern one with how there were no betas around, but suddenly, he felt very on edge with all the different people passing by. 

Holding the doors open with his foot, he waited for the rest of his pack to go through before he closed it. One palm over your head he held it close and snuggled up against his scent gland. 

He realised how you needed any rest you could finally get. With how unscented you were, even before arriving to their home, he knew there was most likely noone in your life to properly have you as a part of a pack. 

So it was only natural for you to feel the need to rest even more than usual, after being able to let go of any worries and let your guard down for once. 

They were more than ready to do that for you, keeping you well and safe at all costs. His whole pack was very important to him and came first under any scenarios, but now that they had you they were interested in, you were quick to become one of the highest priorities for each of the alphas.

It was very normal for omegas or even betas to take liking to a new pack they just discovered, getting attached quickly and easily. 

So if both of the parties were interested, there was no harm in slight rushing. It wasn't considered that in the modern society, absolutely typical and usual since it happened oh so very often. 

Stepping up the few stairs that led to the mall entrance, the pack walked close together. Their steps rang out in the quiet concrete corridors, the piping on the ceiling left uncovered. A few graffiti tags were here and there but the light was bright and there was noone around, so there wasn't anything to worry about.

Entering already inside of the roudy building, Namjoon slowly lowered you to the tiled floors. Your eyes opened up again, but it wasn't long until you were once again reaching for his neck, your small fingers latching on the t-shirt he had under the dark coat.

„It's okay, princess. You can sleep more later, yeah? Let's get some food in your stomach. What would you like to have? There is a big food court on the second floor; should we go look?” Jimin was quick to step in; he could notice how the pack alpha's facade was going down and how his eyes went soft again.

They would never mind carrying you, in public or not; it was very normal to do so with omegas, but since you weren't necessarily theirs yet, they didn't want to cross any boundaries you had.

With how sleepy you still were, they didn't want you to feel embarrassed later on. And so to avoid having that happen, Taehyung and Jin both took one of your palms in theirs and started leading you towards the escalators.

You didn't come to this mall often—pretty much never at all. It was quite far from your home and was in a more noisy area since it was usual for tourists to come in here.

Still, the alphas led you with ease, with Jimin at the front and Namjoon walking behind you, keeping everyone in sight. Walking alongside a big grocery store, a café, and a stationary shop, you felt many scents that were new to you.

Reminding yourself, you remember the thing that got you into this place at first: the medication prescription you didn't get. Looking up at Jin's face, you thought about asking them for help at that moment, but with how much distress you must have caused them already, you just decided to let it be for now.

The eldest went first on the lifting stairs, pulling you behind him and stepping to the left. You stayed on the step after him, and with Tae doing the same, the three of you were left in a small row.

The hanging banners above you were advertising new burgers, a makeup collaboration with an idol, and a new clothing collection in one of the many boutiques in this mall.

After you all piled out from the stairs, you walked towards the big food court right in front of you. There were many sitting spots; some were kept in enclosed booths, and other small tables were left in the open. Some of them were left occupied by customers, but most of them were still empty.

There was a big selection of different fast foods and restaurants you could get your food from, many of whose names you didn't recognise. There was a big McDonald's that you, of course, were familiar with, but the other restaurants like Shake Shack or Cushara were ones you never really heard of.

Letting yourself be tagged along, you allowed Jimin to select an enclosed booth that had dark maroon sofa-like seats. The space was definitely large enough for the whole pack to fit in, so the alpha chose well.

Jin sat down first, followed closely by you and Tae. Namjoon, looking at the different options, turned away slightly from you. You noticed Jimin typing on his phone; he was leaning against the side of the short, built-up walls. He looked up when the pack alpha eventually turned back towards all of you, though.

„What would you guys like to get? I'm thinking Panda Express might be a good choice, but we can go for something else if you want to. What would you like to have for lunch cub?" Looking at you, he watched your face, noting the small facial expression changes.

„Yoongi just texted me that they are on the bottom floor, so they should be here in a minute or so.” Jimin mumbled, his eyes glued back to the screen as he typed again.

„Alright, let's wait for what they want to order then.” Answered Namjoon once again before he slid into the seat next to Jin. On the booth table, there was laminated paper that had a list of the most popular foods from each dining place available at the spot. Picking it up, Tae held it up so you could see too.

„Let's look together, babycheeks. Here, they even have an omega-safe food list; that's really clever. Let's see..” Reading over the list closely, the man looked for the foods with the small label next to the names, marking them as fully safe because they were mild in spices, not too high in sugar, and usually not fried either.

Leaning in to look yourself, you hesitantly pointed towards the 'orange chicken' listed next to the small panda express label. You never had it but since you were a big tangerine lover, you felt like it could be quite tasty. 

„Could I get that please?“ You mumbled, looking up at Taehyung's face for a bare second. Sitting up slightly, he went over the contents of the meal.

„I'm not sure babycheeks. How about we get you something else instead. Do you want chicken and rice? Here, there is a 'grilled teriyaki chicken' listed, does that sound good, sweet baby? We can get you some rice with it too; the brown steamed rice here is extra tasty.”

Lightly trying to steer you towards a different decision, you looked back at the menu, and he was right. Next to the options he just told you about was the tiny symbol you had to look for constantly.

„But I wanted the orange chicken, please,” you said, looking into Taehyung's eyes. He couldn't bring himself to hold your gaze for much longer. He could feel his heart practically break with how he had to tell you no, even after you asked so nicely.

He was proud of you for telling him what you wanted, even if it was a simple meal from a restaurant. He knew more than well how that could be so tricky sometimes.

„Baby I know, but it could really be bad for your tummy. I don't want you to get sick. Come here, let's look at the other options together.” His voice was softer than usual, and even when he spoke with a deep tone, he always tried to soften it up for your ears.

With one of his arms going around your left, he lightly pulled you closer to him so your thighs were touching. Leaving his palm at your shoulder, he occasionally rubbed your shoulder blade in small circles.

When you could smell the light scent of rain and the forest's smell of citrus and flowers, you looked up almost immediately. The three alphas were walking around the tables, careful not to bump into anyone or anything as they walked in your direction.

You were glad to see them after a few hours of their absence, so you were quick to climb out of the booth before you took the few last steps in their direction. Jungkook walked first, and that meant he was the first to have his hands on you, pulling you to his chest.

Breathing in the soft aroma he brought, you smiled lightly, feeling content. With how dependable omegas often get, it was more than healthy for you to be around the whole pack at once.

„Did you miss me, baby? I missed you lots and lots.” The man mumbled lightly, his face hidden behind the face mask. Lightly patting the back of your head, he wanted to hold you for longer, but unfortunately, the situation wasn't ideal.

„Yah, Kook-ah, let me have her for a minute too. Stop hogging her up!” Hobi's voice was loud, just as it usually is. Pulling away from you slightly, before the other alpha had time to react, you were quickly snatched away. It wasn't Hoseok who took you; it was Yoongi.

Sneaking around the other table, he didn't bother to wait for you. Instead, the alpha didn't waste any time before his arms pulled you to his chest once more. Lightly rubbing his chin over the top of your head, he felt content with you around.

„My kitty. How are you? Did you have a nice time at the shops? Should we go buy some more stuff later?” Feeling shy, you let him pull away to watch your face.

„Yea, Tae and Jimin bought me a lot of stuff. I'm very thankful.” You whispered softly, still feeling a bit overwhelmed with how quick they were to spend so much money on you. They didn't hesitate.

„..That's good, that's really good, I still think-” Cutting his elder with no problems, Hobi snaked his arms around your waist, also hugging you. You looked up at his face and were greeted by the biggest smile ever.

„Little cub, I'm so glad to see you. You looked so nice in the clothes. Here, sunshine, let's go eat now, yea?” Pulling at your hand, he let you take a seat before he himself sat down. This time, you had Jungkook and Hobi keeping you company.

With the other pack members greeting themselves, Namjoon didn't waste much time before he handed them the menu. Most of them were getting ramen noodles and settled on sharing theirs with you.

You were getting the grilled teriyaki chicken Taehyung recommended, but you really didn't feel like getting brown rice, so you stuck with the usual white one.

Standing up, most of the alphas left to go order and pay for the food, but when you tried to stand up, you were quick to be pulled back to your seat by the youngest.

„No babybun, stay here with me for now. Tell me about today, hm?” It was very easy for the whole pack to finally allow their second gender to fully control them and take over. There was just something so deeply satisfying for them about having you to constantly care for and having someone fully depend on them for once.

It was a breath of fresh air; they didn't even realise how much they had actually pushed off their wants the whole time before you came about.

BigHit did offer the chance of hired packomegas, which were usually there for the ruts the alphas went through twice a year. They never worked well for the pack, though; oftentimes they tended to get along great with one but argue so much with the other. So after their earlier years, which arrived after their fresh debut, they just stopped letting the company look for packomegas completely.

„But the food? There is a lot; I should help." Your voice was worried as you looked in the direction they left.

„Babybun, it's alright really. They can do it well, okay? Just stay with me right now. Tell me about where you guys went?” Jungkook knew that they were more than capable of carrying all the foods and was just the slightest bit worried about you spilling something; the possibility of you getting burnt just didn't sit well with him.

„Okay.. if you are sure.. We went to Dior; I tried on a bunch of stuff too." You murmured, finally looking at Jungkook. His eyes were wide and bright, fully set on your form.

Talking about the trip you took with the packmates, you skipped over the whole buying ordeal; you didn't feel like worrying the youngest alpha too.

„What were you doing?” You hesitated to ask, still very shy around them. You could see how he smiled widely at your question. He couldn't help himself though; you were just too cute.

„I was at the studio; I was finishing up my part of the song with Yoongi, and Hobi was there to work on a part of one dance. We had some stuff to sign, too. It's very boring stuff, my baby; don't worry about it, okay?”

Only nodding lightly, you looked at your lap. You could hear him lightly giggle next to you; the laugh was airy and sweet. Cooing at you, he brushed your cheek softly, making you look back at him.

„How about you tell me more about yourself now? What about your pack?”

It was sudden, you could feel dread start to consume you, and from the bottom of your toes, you felt your muscles tighten. Gulping, you looked away.

You didn't have a nice past; with how your pack abandoned you, it was easy to know so. Usually left alone, you lived a very sad life. Still, sometimes you feel joy come from small things. Those moments did help from time to time.

Even if you tried to cover up the sudden change of mood, the alpha was quick to notice. It was one of his second gender's charms—the ability to quickly notice any atmosphere changes.

Moving quickly, his warm hands went around your shoulders before he pulled you closer, your tights touching.

„Baby, it's okay; we don't have to do that if you don't want to talk yet. It's alright, babybun, don't worry, yeah?" His eyes were desperately looking for yours, but with no success. Tears sprung up suddenly too, furthering the sudden despair he felt.

Desperate to make you feel better, to calm you back down. You were doing so well today, and he didn't want it to go wrong for you so suddenly.

When the first tear fell and he could start to really smell the sadness in your naturally soft and sweet aroma, he knew something was seriously wrong.

He didn't waste any more time before he pulled you to his chest, fully squishing you against him. Your soft sobs followed soon too, only furthering his worry. In the corner of his eye, he could see all of his packmates coming back towards him, their pace urgent.

„Sh,sh, shh, babybun, don't cry; it will be okay. We are here now, cub. Come here, and let me hold you for now. You'll be okay.” Lightly hiccuping, you let the alpha sway you from side to side slowly, his scent worried and heavy.

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

Next:

[darkangelhome]

Im in heaven ♥

[mydairpercabeth]

Have I known you 20 seconds, or 20 years?

[always-is-always]

Jikook AYS

That preview contained some pretty odd energy. It's almost like that energy when you have a friend hanging around when you really just want to be with your person, and that friend has no idea... (did my words make sense??😆)

It's going to be interesting.

[officialrapunzelfitzherbert]

and it feels good to be known so well / i can't hide from you like i hide from myself / i remember who i am when i'm with you / your love is tough, your love is tried and true blue

prints

[stromuprisahat]

True soulmatism is when you royally fuck up, believe your other half's destined to make it right, but instead they fuck it up even more, so you're stuck eternally suffering, while holding reality together, to fix ~that~...

[kaiser1ns]

TAKIISHI CHIKA IN CHAPTER 153

[lafaiette]

Well, this is Inquisitor Lavellan. The woman who led us all.