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littlemisspascal · 9 months ago

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Rockford & Roan Pt. 7

Pairing: Tim Rockford x Female Reader/OFC ‘Roan’

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: “All that glitters is not gold, Miss Roan.”

Rating: T. Heed the warnings y'all!

Warnings: Language, Reader has a dog, Reader has military background, Superpower AU, They Were Roommates AU, self-esteem issues, soulmates-ish, original characters, worldbuilding, crime-solving

- Reader has no first name and no physical traits described in detail except for being shorter than Rockford. Reader is mentioned to have hair

Author Note: Thank you always for the kind support💗

Special thanks to @beecastle for beta reading and encouraging me 💜💜💜

Series Masterlist

The Truce

Entering the apartment, the whole living room is soaked in sepia tones, all browns and reds creeping up the walls, half-lit by a lightbulb on its last leg. You unclip Banjo’s leash from his collar, watching him dart away in the direction of the kitchen where his water bowl awaits him. Slipping off your shoes, you quietly venture further in.

In a scene almost identical to earlier this evening, Rockford rests on the floor with his eyes closed, sending a feeling of déjà vu rushing over you. He’s surrounded by paper, some crumpled and torn, his curls extra disheveled from fingers dragging through them with increasing annoyance.

His presence makes your empathy prickle, little firecrackers bursting in your veins bugging you to break the silence. And you want to, really, it’s just you don’t know how. There’s a jumble of half-formed sentences sour tasting on the back of your tongue, none of them feeling big enough, right enough to fix everything. Maybe Rockford doesn’t even want to talk to you. Maybe he’d been glad you’d disappeared, giving him time to think in peace.

“Did you know whenever a portal opens and closes there’s the distinct smell of ozone afterwards? It’s a pungent odor, like bleach,” Rockford says, causing you to jump. His eyes are open and looking at you now, though he makes no move to get up. “I have some if you’d like to shower with it. Cassius has a penchant for inhabiting seedy places.”

Your eyebrows lift, aiming for a note of levity in your voice. “I guess I missed the memo luxurious mansions are what’s considered seedy nowadays.”

There’s a tremor beneath his calm exterior, something dark he smothers a hair too late, and he angles his gaze away from your face, off to the side. “All that glitters is not gold, Miss Roan.”

You’re not sure what hurts most. The disparaging remark or how he continues breaking his promise of always letting you feel his emotions by continuing to stifle them. You’d entered the apartment wanting to close the distance between you and Rockford, but it seems like so far all you’ve done is widen it further.

Banjo chooses that moment to enter, licking at the water drops clinging to the hair on his beard. He makes a beeline for Rockford and lies down next to the man’s arm so there’s no excuse not to pet him. Spoiled pup doesn’t even notice the brewing tension, tail wagging happily with each stroke of Rockford’s palm over the top of his head.

“I…” Your fingers wiggle restlessly, bottom lip held between your teeth. “I don’t…”

Rockford freezes for a fraction of a second, and you catch it again–a flicker of feeling he douses in the same instant it forms, preventing identification–before his steady movement continues.

You join him and Banjo on the floor, sitting with your legs curled under you. The physical closeness settles some of your jitteriness somehow, reminds you he’s here. Tangible.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” you confess.

Rockford’s head turns your direction so fast it’s a miracle his neck doesn’t snap. “What?”

“I know I screwed up at the crime scene, and I’m sorry for that, I’ll–I’ll be better, I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to be the match you deserve, just please stop shutting everything down–” You jam your finger against your temple, hoping he somehow understands how much it upsets you.

“Roan.” Rockford pushes himself upright, voice sharp and cutting deep, looking at you with blazing eyes. “None of what happened tonight was your fault. You don’t need to be better,” he spits the word venomously, killing the counter argument you’d been forming on the tip of your tongue. “You’re the perfect match for me. Exactly as you are. I’m the fuck up you don’t deserve.”

You frown, spluttering uncomprehendingly. “Wh–what?”

“Your trauma was triggered because I didn’t even spare a second to fucking think about the consequences of what I asked you to do. I put the case before your needs. The look on your face, Roan, I never want to see so much fear or pain ever again.” He swallows and takes a few seconds before continuing. “And as long as you kept feeling my emotions–my anger and my worry, everything–you’d keep being reminded of how I’d fucked up and you paid for it. So I sent you outside with Keziah, the most levelheaded man I know, and I did what I thought was necessary to…”

“To what?” you ask, barely above a murmur.

It’s heartbreaking to watch those brown eyes darken with shame, the tiniest quiver of his lips before he’s ducking his head, gaze falling to the rug. “To start earning back your trust.”

“No,” you breathe, shaking your head vehemently. “No, no, no. You never lost my trust. Not once. I’m the one who screwed up, Rockford. My empathy, it’s too…” unpredictable, disobedient, broken “...temperamental.”

“Kez told me what you felt from the victim. Roan, you’ve confirmed my suspicions there’s a killer on the loose.” He takes your hand in his, fingers interlocking. “You and your empathy have done more for this investigation singlehandedly than half the police force and their gifts have done in months.”

“Still, I’m sorr–”

“Roan,” he interrupts you with a firm squeeze of your hand. “Don’t you dare fucking apologize again.”

You grit your teeth, lips pursing in a thin line. If Rockford’s not going to let you feel at fault, then you’re not going to let him keep harboring guilt either.

Bunch of self-blaming idiots, the pair of you. This ends now.

“Fine,” you answer, looking him square in the eye as your mind-gift deliberately pokes at his persisting mental shields. “I’ll stop apologizing if you stop shutting off your emotions. That shit’s not healthy. You’re not responsible for my trauma, Rockford. You didn’t have any idea what I’d sense from the echo and even if you had somehow guessed, you couldn’t have done anything about my brain’s reaction. It just…happened.”

And it’s like a switch flips inside your mind, such a jarring realization that your panic attack wasn’t your fault or Rockford’s. Neither of you directly caused it. Neither of you could’ve possibly predicted the hissing laughter. Neither of you had the power to erase your past.

It just fucking happened.

Rockford says nothing, gaze sweeping over your face as if seeing you for the first time, perceiving something new that entices his gift and eases some of the lines from his brow.

You feel it when his walls come down, waters of relief and high spirits cascading upon your empathy, nurturing and nourishing. Rainfall after years of drought. Your eyes flutter shut, basking in the feeling of his mindscape. God, it feels so good to return. To be welcomed and wanted again.

The stark contrast between brothers rivals night and day. There’d been nothing to sense from Cassius’ aura except for just that: nothingness. A shadow without substance. But with Rockford’s, your mind-gift can stretch out infinitely in every direction, on and on and on, forever finding something new to discover. Barely scratching the surface.

“So,” you murmur, unashamedly soaking up his presence the same way Banjo sploots on the floor in a patch of afternoon sunlight, “it’s a truce then?”

You can hear the smile in Rockford’s voice when he agrees, “It’s a truce.”

“Good.” You let out a jaw-popping yawn, stretching your arms up over your head. “Now that that’s settled, I think it’s time for me to slee—hey!”

Rockford’s other hand retracts from your jacket pocket, quick as a fox, the playing card from Cassius caught between careful fingers. He holds it up towards the lamp, flipping it over, examining both sides. To you there’s nothing extraordinary about the card’s appearance, but evidently something must stand out to Rockford’s gift to spend extra time analyzing it.

“Three of hearts,” he states the obvious, but there’s something about the narrowing of his eyes you don’t like the look of.

“Does that mean something?” you wonder, glancing over at the wall where the knife still has the joker pinned. “What’s Cassius’ deal with playing cards anyways?”

“My brother picked up many pointless talents during his youth–tying cherry stems into knots with his tongue, mimicking birdsong, rolling a coin across his knuckles among others. But his favorite trick has always been cartomancy.” The hand still holding yours suddenly flips, exposing your palm and Rockford presses the card there with the three red hearts facing up. “If you believe these are capable of fortune-telling, then this particular card serves as both a warning and a piece of advice.”

“Well that’s clear as mud.”

Rockford leans back on his hands, all loose and casual now that his burden is gone and seeing that does something to you, it really does. “It means he likes you, Roan. That you’ll be seeing him again sooner or later.”

You groan, eyeing the playing card with a new lack of enthusiasm. “Hopefully later.”

“Did my brother offer you money to spy on me?” Rockford asks out of nowhere.

“Yeah,” you answer, a little dumbstruck. “How did you–?”

“You’re not the first. Won’t be the last either, I’m certain.” Rockford steamrolls on before you can make a comment about their bizarre family dynamic. “Did you take the money?”

Huffing indignantly, you cross your arms. “Of course not. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Pity,” Rockford says, dry as dust. “We could’ve used the extra income around here.”

The Suitcase

Rolling your eyes, you fling the playing card at his head. It misses him by leagues, soaring through the air frisbee-style and landing on the couch. Banjo stares after it for a moment, probably contemplating if it’s worth fetching, before settling his head upon Rockford’s knee with a quiet exhale.

It’s not as easy for you to turn away.

“Rockford.”

“Hmm?” He tweaks one of Banjo’s silky ears, distracted.

You point a finger at a yellow suitcase standing out so glaringly amongst the couch pillows it’s ridiculous you didn’t notice it sooner. “What is that?”

Rockford reluctantly drags his gaze away from Banjo, the pup attempting to lick and nip every inch of the man’s hand, and acknowledges what’s caught your attention with a bland, “Oh that? It’s Carmin Carrillo’s luggage.”

Surprise raises both your eyebrows, gaze flickering back and forth between the suitcase and your match. “Seriously?”

Instead of outright answering, Rockford crawls across the short distance and grabs hold of the suitcase’s handle, yanking it onto the floor with a thud. He taps the personalized tag attached to the zipper, black with yellow initials CC, confirming the owner is indeed the victim.

“Found it discarded in a dumpster a couple blocks from the warehouse,” Rockford tells you before gently nudging Banjo away with his foot when the mutt tries to give the case a thorough sniffing. “Careful. That’s evidence.”

“Does Inspector Dorrance know you have Carmin’s suitcase?”

“I sent a text to him highly suggesting he stop by here tomorrow at his soonest convenience. He replied with a thumb’s up.”

“Okay…” You frown lightly. “How did you even know to look for her bag?”

“The victim’s coat was wet, however her umbrella was unused which means she not only faced rain but strong wind too,” Rockford explains, and you remember how he’d studied the body, touching her coat and searching her pockets. “That kind of weather hasn’t happened anywhere in Fox Leap today which means she came in from outside the city. But she can’t have traveled more than an hour or two since her coat would’ve been dry. Quick weather check on my phone showed Toven was a match.”

Your jaw’s hanging open, you know it is, but it’s just–he’s so–and his mind, oh his mind is–

Beautiful, you think. Beautifully brilliant. Shining like the steady white beam of a lighthouse cutting through all the bullshit and distractions to the beating heart of it all: the bloody truth.

“There were mud stains on the back of her leg. Tiny splashes you’d only get from dragging a wheeled suitcase around. Except Kez told me no such thing had been found with the body.” His tone is almost totally inflectionless, flat like yours used to be when giving a field report to your higher ups. A recitation of pure, solid facts compiled and organized connecting A to B to C. “Most probably the killer drove the victim to the wharf, then accidentally forgot her suitcase was still in the car. No way he pulled it along with him or carried it on foot, that would’ve definitely attracted attention. And I say ‘him’ because statistically speaking, it’s most likely a man behind these deaths.”

“Uh…” You don’t know what to say, reeling from the influx of information. “Right, yeah. Makes sense. So, um, you really pieced together all of…all of those itty bitty details from just a few minutes of observation at the crime scene? That’s amazing!”

Rockford is quick to shake his head. “Remember our truce, Roan. There’s no need to flatter me.”

“Well, that’s unfortunate.” You click your tongue at him, causing Banjo’s head to tilt quizzically at the sound. “If you can’t tell when I’m being dead serious versus blowing smoke up your rear then maybe you’re not the master of perception like I thought.”

“No such thing as a master of anything,” he reasons, uncharacteristically flustered in such an endearing way your mind-gift threatens to melt.

“Humble,” you can’t help but tease, “that’s cute.”

“Good to know.” He clears his throat, changing the subject swiftly, probably hoping you won’t notice the red tint of his ears. Gesturing at the suitcase, Rockford says, “All the victim’s essentials are just as she packed them. Clothes, toiletries, charger. But her phone is noticeably absent. Wasn’t on her person or in her bag.”

“Maybe she left it back home accidentally?”

“In this day and age?” He scoffs. “Please.”

He’s got a point. Everyone’s glued to their phones from the moment they wake up to the moment they fall asleep, relying on them like an extra limb. Even Rockford’s got his cell within easy reach, acting as a paper weight on top of a stack of documents near where he was previously laying. Coming on an overnight trip to Fox Leap, Carmin definitely would’ve had her phone with her.

“She could’ve lost it,” you suggest, thinking of other possibilities. “Or…”

He leans in, brown eyes brightening, eager for you to reach the same conclusion he has. “Or?”

It takes you all of three seconds

“The killer has it,” you blurt out, an exclamation that Banjo echoes with a bark.

“Correct, Miss Roan,” Rockford states, matter-of-fact. “She might have left it in his car, just like her suitcase, or he took it from her directly. Either way, it’s in his possession.”

“You think he still has it?” Your eyebrows draw together dubiously. “If I were the killer, I’d throw it into the nearest body of water I could find.”

“And that’s the difference between a clever and a brilliant killer.”

“Huh?”

“The brilliant ones are desperate to get caught. They crave attention. An audience.” Rockford spreads his arms out wide in a theatrical gesture, eliciting a quiet snort from you. Still, makes you wonder…

“How many killers have you encountered?”

Rockford falters for a moment. You feel it in his mood again, another one of those dark flickers, a bobber in the water dipping and coming back up, reacting to something deeper and unseen. He doesn’t try to hide it this time, doesn’t make a move to shove you out of his mindscape either. However, you’re reluctant to pull on that string any further. Tonight’s already had enough highs and lows involving a laundry list of emotions, thank you very much. He knows you know it’s there and you know he knows it’s there—whatever it is. For now, that’s enough.

“Enough to be certain our killer has made a mistake tonight, Roan,” Rockford says without an inkling of doubt coating his voice or staining his mood. “It’s up to us now to set the trap and put an end to his poisonings. Together.”

Together, you think with a slight smile. I like the sound of that.

#tim rockford #tim rockford x reader #tim rockford x you #tim rockford x ofc #tim rockford fanfiction #pedrostories #my fic #my writing #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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annabelle-creart · 2 months ago

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Little something I just thought off from nowhere and is

How do you make a functional basic dynamic to make the rest of your ship's story work as a couple and not some flat weird thing (or at least not to confuse the dybamics and remember their personality on the story)?

This are the ones I use for my Au's and the writing 1-30 tf prompts I'm making

BumbleBlades

They're the type of couple who will foreplay, say dirty things to the other, be outside for all the night from bar to bar but at 5 or 6 pm they're cuddling together watching funny kitten videos or making surprise pancakes while watching Shrek 2.

As you remember in the BumbleBlades prompts, they're usually together sharing quality time, sharing a song or just hanging at night, thanks to this little thought, I can make their relationship be consistent, because I saw them as little pups playing and then sleeping with the other

BoulWave

Fuck consistency, emotion, confidence and communication is the rule, share your hobbies, say cute things, tell your feelings, and if your heart is feeling hard or sad, ask for a hug that will be never be denied

CUTISE WHOTSIES!!!!!!!!!!!! If I want to do something related to them, I just have to think in "how can I make this sweet and soft?" Even angst with them is soft😭i love them

KOBDase

I'm still trying to figure out this one but as far as I can think of it, I think it is a:

Enjoy the sunset you didn't enjoyed before with a cardigan, a cup of tea and your favorite sandals, because when you haven't lost it all, you didn't knew you really will miss the feeling

I see the trio as the love triangle who suffered and recovered safely and sanely, and due to it, they now know and can enjoy time with others respectfully

Knock Out is the type of guy who deep inside was egotistical because he shared too much with both correct and wrong people, so, he decided to start thinking on himself first but also gave to himself too much, he's the cardigan because he is the style and the warm because he loves cuddling and sweet talk

Chase is the type of bot who is sincere because he doesn't know better, he likes to be sincere because is his way to tell the other that he cares, and even if he doesn't like cuddling as much and can be too curious or thinks too much, he's like the warm cup of tea that will tell you everything is okay and will comfort you from the inside

Breakdown is someone you probably have a double-view as the sandal (hijxs de mamas latinas, a ustedes los estoy viendo) and yes, he sometimes can be explosive or aggresive, but he is also supportive and protective and above everything, comfy, he prefers hugs than words but also prefers actions than words, he's the one who will bring the protective carcasse, and if a plague comes near you while enjoying your cute moment, well...

#transformers #maccadam #rescue bots #tf rescue bots #tfrobotsindisguise #tf #tfrb #tfp #writing prompts #writing prompt #writing #tfrb boulder #tfrb blades #tfrb heatwave #tfrb chase #tfp knockout #tfp bumblebee #tfp breakdown #love first

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peachdues · 1 year ago

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Heyy peach just wondering do you have a pet??? If you do what's their name??

I do!!

Her name is Daisy and she’s useless.

Fun fact! The reader in my upcoming Bodyguard AU has an emotional support pup named Momo directly inspired by Daisy. She has anxiety and likes to square up with Kyojuro.

#🍑’s asks

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thezombieprostitute · 1 year ago

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Alphas & Algorithms - Part 4 - Bets & warnings

A/N: Continued from Part 3. Reader is female and is described as "tall". No other descriptors.

Warnings: It is a Dystopian AU. Food scarcity, hunger, mentions of families being separated. Please let me know if I missed any!

--Part 1-- --Part 5--

--Series Masterlist--

“He’s not interested in me,” Y/N tells Jake as they cuddle up on her couch. “He’s going to come back for our next date and tell me he’s not interested. I know it.”

“You don’t know that,”Jake reassures. “He could just need some time to think. You said yourself that he talked about feeling like a fish out of water more than once.”

“I’m telling you, he’s not interested. I don’t have the highest accuracy of predictions for nothing.” Y/N sighs and pushes to prop herself up. “Maybe the other Omegas are right. Maybe I’m just too boring. Too plain vanilla.”

Jake squeezes Y/N tightly, not letting her escape, “I keep telling you not to listen to them. They’re jealous idiots who just don’t appreciate the kindness and gentleness your scent embodies. Their scents clash with everything around them but vanilla goes with everything. And that’s how you’re able to pick up on stuff they can’t. Your scent works with the people you question, letting them relax more around you, which gets you an even better idea of their true scent. Your empathy is not a weakness, no matter what those assholes say.”

“I know how the mechanics of it work, Jake.” Y/N tries to pull away to pout but he holds her close. “And I know it helps others to be accurate with scents. But…it’s…It gets painfully lonely to be pushed away by others of “your kind”. I love having you as a friend, Jake, but with you as my only friend, it’s a lot of pressure on you. I know you’re stressed out, but still smiling at me. I appreciate the effort but you shouldn’t be the only one supporting me.”

“And when you get your Alpha, I won’t be.” Y/N gives Jake an incredulous look as he continues. “Seriously, you doubt but I’m certain Curtis will be back and, as he learns more about you, he’ll fall desperately, madly in love with you and you’ll have both your Emotional Support Beta and your Alpha Mate!”

“I do appreciate the optimism, Jake but it just isn’t going to happen. At least not with Curtis. Maybe that other Alpha will work out better. So long as I don’t have to do any more of those scent tests.”

“I’ll make you a deal. If Curtis turns you down, I’ll cook up that 5-cheese mac-n-cheese you love so much. If he ends up agreeing to be your mate, you gotta bake me up that death-by-chocolate cake that almost put me into a diabetic coma.”

Y/N chuckles and decides to up the ante. “Add barbecue chicken strips to that mac-n-cheese meal and I’ll add homemade chocolate whipped cream to the cake.”

“Deal!”

It’d been a couple days since the date and the benefits of the full stomach and foot massage had already faded. Curtis felt the pain in his stomach again and every step was pain yet again. Y/N’s cookies were already gone, courtesy of the pups, but he couldn’t blame them. They generally couldn’t afford such calorie dense, sweet foods. He did hope that Y/N’s promise of more ration packs for his nutritional needs would hold true, though it was way too soon to tell. Hopefully his refutation of her courting wouldn’t affect her promise.

After only a few hours of work Curtis caught a whiff of someone. Curry. Warm, strong beer. Hobie. “What do you want, Hobie? I’m working.”

“From what I heard, you’ve been gettin’ it on with a Pet.” Hobie stepped into Curtis’s view.

“I’ll be seeing her again tomorrow and telling her I’m not interested. She gave me the out, I’m taking it.”

“Ya don’ wanna do that,” Hobie whispers. “I got it on good authority, you’re gonna wanna take her up on the offer.”

Curtis stops what he’s doing so he can turn to Hobie. He sees the man is dead serious. “What do you mean?”

Without speaking, Hobie hands Curtis a small pouch with some fabric inside. Eyes not leaving Hobie, Curtis opens it and gets the scent. Stevie! His brother’s scent, and fresh!

Hobie sees the recognition on Curtis’s face, “that’s right, bruv is alive. Been ‘elping us out against The Man.”

“And what’s that got to do with me? I can’t rescue him. Probably can’t see him even if I do accept the offer.”

“We got ya covered there,” Hobie grins. “Stevie’s been ‘olding off the next phase of our plan. Wants to make sure ‘is Pack is protected first. That’s where you come in. Stevie made sure to get your scent added to ev’ry Pet’s list of potential mates, waitin’ for one to choose you. You wanna protect your Pack? Keep ‘em outta harm’s way from The Man and The Revolution? You agree to the Pet’s terms.”

Curtis stared at the fabric for a bit, cementing the scent in his mind. When he looked back up, Hobie was gone. How he had the ability to both draw attention and go invisible was Curtis would never understand. When he saw the security drone coming towards him, he hid the fabric in his pocket and went back to work. He was going to have to have another Pack meeting before tomorrow and he was not looking forward to it.

After the pups had gone to bed for the night, Curtis sat down with Andrew and Tanya. He handed them the pouch without saying anything and watched the recognition grow in their faces as they caught the scent.

“Oh. Oh no,” Tanya whispered as she looked at Curtis. “You’re going to leave us, aren’t you?”

“Not until I get more evidence of Hobie’s claims,” Curtis whispered. “It’s one thing to know he’s alive, it’s another to know…” He cuts himself off. The less information his Pack has about the revolution’s plans (hypothetical or otherwise) the better.

Andrew looks at Curtis, “he’s your brother. Pack by blood. You know we’ll respect that.”

Curtis nods. It’s an uneasy night of sleep for all of them.

--Part 5--

Tagging @every-username-is-taken-damnit, per request.

#alpha!curtis everett x omega!reader #curtis everett x reader #alpha!curtis everett #tall!reader #curtis everett x tall!reader #tall!omega #dystopian au #dystopia au #tall reader

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sweetestofchaos · 5 months ago

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BNAA | Stay Close - M.YG x K.SJ

🔪Pairing: Alpha Gang Boss!Yoongi x Omega Maid!Seokjin

🔪 Rating: 18+

🔪 Genre: gang au, dead dove, parent au, a/b/o, angst, fluff, smut, mxm, mpreg

🔪 Warnings: time skip, mentions of blood, torture (described), physical violence, semi-public sex, handjob, light bondage, sensory play (blindfolding), body worship, crying, breeding kink, unprotected sex, knotting, fingering, spiting, slick/cum eating, anal sex, oral, nipple play, dacryphilia, brief depictions of childbirth, seokjin has a lot of emotions, a/b/o dynamics, scenting, pet names/terms of endearment, strong language.

🔪 Word Count: 12k

Four years later and Yoongi is still in love with his mate, Seokjin. Their pup, Miyoung is thriving and now the family of three is ready to grow by one more.

a/n: this story is completely fiction. it was written for the daddy’s home fest hosted by @btsfests. if i missed any warnings, please let me know. if you would like to scream in my ask box, feel free it is open. for the sake of time, i did not have this fic betaed, if you see any major mistakes, please let me know. it has been a long time since i finished any kind of fic...so i am very proud of myself. i love this story and i truly hope you enjoyed it as well. thank you so much for reading and your support!

fest masterlist 🔪 ao3 🔪series masterlist

🔪chapter one 🔪chapter two

Four Years Later

“Find him!”

Everyone in the room looks at the man standing in front of them pacing back and forth. Min Yoongi, the boss of the underground, is pissed. His usually neat hair is disheveled, messy from running his hands through it repeatedly. His smokey thyme scent is burnt. Someone has stolen something very important from him and they will pay with their life. Four sets of eyes watch as Yoongi slowly starts to lose his composure little by little. His chest is heaving, his eyes are scarlet red, wide and wild like an animal. He is going to kill whoever stole from him with his own two hands.

Hoseok, an alpha and Yoongi’s second in command, sits in a large chair. Out of the crew, Hoseok has the least amount of injuries. He was hit in the back of the head with a vase from behind. So, there is a nice sized egg hidden by his dark hair. His heart shaped mouth is turned down into a small frown as he recalls the mess he ran into. He went down for a few moments from the attack, unaware of the aftermath that it would cause.

Namjoon, a beta as well as the hacker of the group and Taehyung, the other beta and sniper, sit on the love seat that is in the middle of the room. Taehyung is nursing his bruised jaw with an ice pack while Namjoon picks at the blood that has clotted on his knuckles. His hand hurts like a bitch and he is sure that his hand is broken from how discolored it has become.

“I want every fucking person on the streets, ears to the ground. You hear me? Find him!”

Yoongi’s eyes are merciless as he scans over the room of his subordinates, ghosting right over the five men closest to him. Useless, the whole lot of them! All these bodies and yet one of the people he swore to protect was taken in the blink of an eye.

“Yes, sir!” Come the shouts of the others in the room and Yoongi glares at everyone just standing around.

“Get the fuck out!” He snaps, his patience hanging on a very thin thread and the men in the room all scramble over themselves to clear the room.

As the door slams shut loudly, Yoongi is left alone with his five most trusted friends and the in-house doctor, Jackson, a beta. The youngest, Jungkook, an alpha, pushes himself off the wall. His face is boyish with large doe-like eyes but the hardened muscles on his body and the full sleeve of tattoos displayed for all to see on his left arm tells another story. There is a cut above his right eyebrow and his bottom lip is split as well. Like Namjoon, Jungkook’s knuckles are bloody and bruised.

“So, what are we doing boss?” Jungkook asks as he walks over and parks himself on the arm of the couch, right next to Jimin, the only other omega beside Seokjin, who is being looked over by doctor Jackson. Out of everyone, Jimin got hurt the worst since he was inside the nesting room where everything fell apart.

Jimin is passed out cold thanks to the drugs that are pumping through his blood stream. Jackson is currently stitching a rather large gash on Jimin’s chest which makes Taehyung frown. Jimin and him have been through thick and thin together. They are soulmates, blessed by Luna to always find each other. He was supposed to keep him safe and he failed. The younger’s golden skin has lost its glow, now pale and bruised. His face is untouched much to Taehyung’s disbelief but the gash across his chest is cause for concern.

Yoongi clicks his tongue as he looks around at his friends; his pack. Namjoon’s indigo hair looks darker thanks to the dried blood from someone else. Taehyung’s bangs hang in his eyes as he sits up with a wince. Namjoon raises an eyebrow and Taehyung waves him off, his freshly dyed blond locks curling from the blood that ran from his temple. The room is filled with bitter, sour scents. No one is happy with the night’s outcome.

Yoongi’s alpha is at the surface ready to draw blood. His pup’s screams still ring in his ears and he grinds his teeth as he jaw clenches. He wants to go to her right now, his inner wolf is howling to comfort Miyoung but Yoongi needs to handle business first.

“I didn’t get a good look at the fuckers, but we got one of ‘em.” Taehyung states and hisses as he starts to grin. His lower lip is split, his temple has two stitches and four of his ribs are bruised, nothing he can’t handle.

Yoongi’s ears perk up at the mention of a survivor and something wicked comes to life in everyone’s eyes as Yoongi’s lips twitch. He runs a hand through his hair and looks at Jackson, who is still working on Jimin.

“Wang?” Yoongi rolls his tongue in his mouth as Jackson looks over his shoulder. “We good here?”

“Joon needs to stay-”

“Bullshit! Doc, I’m-”

“Not doing shit with a broken hand!” Jackson glares, his eyes flashing a striking gold and Namjoon grumbles knowing that Yoongi will not go against the doctor’s words.

Nodding his head, Yoongi jerks his head towards the door and one by one the others all stand. Taehyung and Jungkook pat Namjoon on his shoulders, scenting him quietly with their wrists as they walk by and Yoongi rolls his shoulders.

“Joon, hop on the trail. I want these fucking bastards found in the next three hours.”

“Already on it, Min.” Namjoon waves his phone in his unbroken hand and Yoongi nods before he steps out of the room.

Out in the hallway, Yoongi cracks his knuckles and shoves his hands in the pockets of his black trousers. He looks at his pack, they all look fucked but at least they are alive.

“Kook, you good to deal with ‘em?”

“I won’t kill him…much.”

Jungkook’s eyes glow red and Yoongi nods his head before he looks at Hoseok, “Keep tabs on the men. Let me know if they find anything.”

“Should I let BamBam know what’s up?”

Yoongi sucks his teeth. He really doesn’t want to involve the Got7 pack. Jackson’s mate, Jinyoung is the pack alpha and they are useful. Bambam is an omega with his hands in a little of everything; he is a good ally to have. Yoongi gives a stiff nod of his head and Hoseok is walking off down the hall to the main office. Now it’s just Jungkook, Taehyung and Yoongi. Yoongi and Jungkook follow Taehyung to where the only living survivor of the attack is being kept, the library. Yoongi makes a mental note to scold Taehyung for not bringing the guy into the basement.

Taehyung opens the door to the library and Yoongi sees a younger man tied to a chair, he is passed out and bleeding from his broken nose. Yoongi closes the door and takes a seat in the large leather reading chair that is a few feet away from the unconscious man. He notices the blood that drips from the man’s fingertips and splashes onto the fancy rug. Damn. Yoongi thinks to himself. Seokjin is going to chew his ass out if he finds out they got blood on the rug. He wonders if Seokjin would notice a replacement or not.

Jungkook and Taehyung share a look before Jungkook walks over to the man with all the bone chilling confidence of an apex predator. He is a shark, waiting for his chance to strike in bloody water. Taehyung pulls a hair tie from around his wrist, the very one that he keeps in case Jimin wants to tie his hair up and hands it to Jungkook. Quickly, Jungkook takes the hair tie, holds it in his mouth and gathers his hair into one hand. Grabbing the hair tie from between his teeth, Jungkook easily pulls his hair into a messy bun and cracks his neck. Taehyung walks over to Yoongi’s chair and stands behind it, leaning against it with his arms crossed in front of him over the back.

“Get on with it.” Yoongi orders, his voice a low rumble that fuels the sick and twisted pleasure in Jungkook’s heart.

Reaching into his pocket, Jungkook’s fingers wrap around the cool metal of his favorite switchblade. He pulls it out of his pocket and flicks it open, twirling it around on his fingertips for a few seconds as he looks the man over in thought. What is the best way to wake the man? He could stab the man in the chest, he knows enough body anatomy to not kill the poor guy right away. Or maybe he should cut off a finger? No. No, he needs his tools from the basement for that. Pouting, Jungkook stares at the man’s thighs and nods to himself.

Clasping the knife in a fist, Jungkook squats in front of the man’s spread legs and plunges the sharp blade into the man’s upper thigh. The man jolts awake with an ear splitting howl. Jungkook giggles, his red eyes gleaming in joy as the man stares wide eyed at the knife sticking out of his thigh.

“Wakey, wakey asshole! Boss has some questions for ya!” Jungkook sing songs and Taehyung fights off a smile at the display of collected insanity. He always knew that Jungkook was unhinged and that is why he makes the best bodyguard for Yoongi out of all of them. The man is a blubbering mess as the pain burns deep in his veins and Jungkook cackles. The high grade silver will do that to a wolf. He rises to his full height and flicks the hilt of his knife making the man cry out.

Yoongi clears his throat and Jungkook takes two large steps to the side, giving him a clear view of the man that should know where his mate is.

“If you don’t want to die, I highly suggest you answer my questions, ‘kay? JK over there falls into blood lust easily.” Yoongi warns with a blank face as the man before him trembles. Yoongi leans forward slightly in his seat, elbows pressed into the top of his knees as he steeples his hands, resting his chin on top. “I asked a question, kid.”

The young wolf nods his head quickly and Yoongi can see the way his body sags. The guy won’t last long. He must be new. Yoongi thinks to himself as he smirks. Easy, prey. Licking his lips, Yoongi sighs and leans back against his chair, snapping his fingers. Taehyung steps from behind the large chair and goes over to the mini bar that is tucked in the corner. He fixes Yoongi a whiskey neat silently, the sound of glass clinking every once in a while. Yoongi doesn’t take his eyes off the man who is silently crying and he is honestly a little disappointed. He knows that Jungkook won’t have that much fun with the guy.

Taehyung returns to Yoongi’s side with the glass of amber liquid and Yoongi takes it without a word. Thanking Taehyung with a small nod before he raises the glass to his lips and takes a sip. The smooth bittersweet liquid warms his throat on the way down.

“What’s your name, kid?”

The man glances at Jungkook who is standing stark still, his arms crossed over his chest, his muscles flexed and bulging. His eyes flicker back to Yoongi and he stumbles over his own name. Yoongi has to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“You know, you’re the only one alive right? All your little friends refused to talk…JK had a lot of fun with them.” Yoongi is lying through his teeth of course. The other attackers were slaughtered on the spot. “Now, if you want to make it out of here alive-” Yoongi takes another sip of his drink and narrows his eyes slightly, “tell me who you work for and where they took my mate, Kim Seokjin.”

Stars in the sky kiss the horizon, sparkling in the night, tiny shiny jewels pinned high. Seokjin stares out the tiny window of the room he is being kept in. The grime on the window distorts the view, turning the outside world into something from a twisted fairytale. A regretful smile pulls Seokjin’s lips into a frown and his eyes start to burn as he thinks about Miyoung’s favorite story.

A sob crawls up Seokjin’s throat and he covers his mouth with a hand to muffle the sound. He wonders if Yoongi is out looking for him or if his alpha is holding their pup close, whispering comforting words into her ears as he plays with her hair. Seokjin prays that Miyoung is okay, he wishes on all the stars above that she hasn’t realized that her daddy is missing.

A gust of air blows past, making Seokjin’s body shiver as he pulls his limbs in as close as possible. A feat truly impossible with his six month swollen belly in the way. He buries his face in his hands and cries as silently as he can. He misses his pup. He misses his alpha. He misses his warm bed and clean clothes. Seokjin hates this. He hates that everyone tries to hurt Yoongi in some way or form. Seokjin was foolish to think that no one would take advantage of Yoongi’s love for him. He doesn’t even want to think about the shirt storm that’s about to hit once Yoongi finds him. It’s not even a matter of if but when. Seokjin trusts his alpha and his pack. They will come for him and Yoongi will rip out the throats of every person who dared to lay a hand on his pregnant mate.

Seokjin isn’t sure when he fell asleep but he is woken up by the sound of shouting and guns. Someone screams in the distance and there is a thud against the door of his locked room. Seokjin knows better than to shout for help. Not all break ins are rescues. He would be a fool to give his location away, in fear that he can end up in worse hands.

“Open the fucking door, now!”

Seokjin knows that voice and his inner wolf is howling.

“Y-Yoongi!” Seokjin cries, tears streaming down his snotty face as he forces himself to sit up.

The door to the door splits open, wooden splitters going everywhere in a cloud of fine dust. As everything settles, Yoongi stands in the doorway, his body a perfect silhouette outlined in the light from the hallway. His eyes are ruby red, his fangs hang over his lower lip and his hair is wild, falling into his face. Seokjin’s eyes burn blue, a beautiful contrast to the alpha he is reaching out for. In the blink of an eye, Yoongi is in front of Seokjin on his knees, cupping the omega’s face and latching on the swollen scent gland on the side of his neck.

Yoongi pulls the spiced peach scent into his lungs and drowns in it. Smoked thyme is heavy in the air and Seokjin whines as he fists the damp material of Yoongi’s black shirt. He can smell the blood that sours Yoongi’s scent but he doesn’t care.

“A-Alpha!” Seokjin whimpers, pressing into Yoongi’s chest, trying to hide himself and his pup away from the cruel world.

“Shhhh, no more tears nae sarang.” Yoongi whispers as he preppers kiss after kiss to Seokjin’s skin. “Alpha is here. Alpha will protect you.”

“Y-Yoongi?”

Yoongi’s blood freezes in his veins at the sound of the voice. His arm is stiff, pin straight with his fingers wrapped tightly around the butt of a 1911 pistol. His back faces the door along with the man that is tied in the chair before him. The room is a little too warm with the fireplace going, sweat collects at Yoongi’s temples and gets lost in his sideburns. Yoongi doesn’t take his eyes off the man that sits with a gage shoved in his mouth as blood dribbles from his broken nose and cut up face. He refuses to turn around and face the omega that stands in the doorway. Not in his current state, covered in someone else's blood and smelling like death. Ready to get even more blood on his hands as he takes the life of the man before him. He cannot face the omega that takes up the space in his heart.

“Go back to bed yeobo.”

Yoongi’s voice is clipped and icy as he turns his lover away. It makes his lover frown as he’s reminded of their past when they first meant. Yoongi hears the shuffling of slippers on the hardwood floor before the click of the door closing echoes in the room. The man in front of Yoongi whimpers and begs, fat tears roll down his face as he shakes his head back and forth.

“Miyoung is-”

Yoongi jumps at the sound of the voice, not expecting his lover to still be here. The scent of blood is so strong in his nose, that he can’t even smell his mate. His jaw clenches as he tries not to spin around and shout.

“Omega,” Yoongi warns one final time.

“Don’t omega me, Yoongi-ah!”

Yoongi’s shoulders pull upward towards his ears. Footsteps come closer and he is quick to bend his arm and tuck the pistol into the waistband of his pants. Yoongi spins on his heels, ready to shout but the look on the other man’s face makes him pause and his shoulders slump. Standing a few feet away, his husband, his mate, Seokjin cradles his round and swollen stomach, heavily pregnant with their second pup.

The light blue fabric of the sleep shirt he wears makes his tanned skin glow and Yoongi’s mouth water. The shirt stops at the back of Seokjin’s knees but with his stomach in the way, the shirt raises in the front, only covering his mid upper thighs. There is a large bow tied loosely at Seokjin’s throat, covering his mating mark and Yoongi wonders for a second if it comes undone will the shirt slip off Seokjin’s body? Yoongi vaguely recalls Seokjin shopping online for cute and sexy maternity sleepwear to help himself feel better about his body. Seokjin’s face is twisted up in displeasure, his full lips pulled down into a frown and the tip of his ears are flushed as he glares at Yoongi.

“You promised! You said no more killing inside the house!”

Yoongi swallows the moisture in his mouth and takes a step forward, “Nae sarang-”

Seokjin shakes his head, his dark chocolate hair flies about his face, it’s longer now, hanging past Seokjin’s ears and barely touching his jaw. It is the longest that Yoongi can remember ever seeing it. Seokjin doesn’t want to hear Yoongi’s excuses and he will not allow him to try and make any.

“Out!” Seokjin snaps and Yoongi’s body deflates a little. Seokjin rubs his tummy, his eyes starting to burn blue with unshed tears as the next words leave his mouth. “Both you and your fucking pack, get out!”

Saying what he has to say, Seokjin turns and rushes out of the room, not giving Yoongi a chance to fight him in fear he will change his mind with sweet words and sweeter touches. Yoongi stares at the door as it closes and as the click echoes in the room, his heart shatters and his wolf howls.

Yoongi sits alone in the kitchen of one of his safe houses. Seokjin kicked him out a little over a month ago and he is missing his family. He misses little hands squishing his face and tiny lips whispering in his ear to wake him up. He misses the feeling of quick kicks hitting against his side as he cuddles with Seokjin in one of many nests. He misses the warmth of little arms wrapping tightly around his neck and words of love showered down on him. Yoongi really, truly misses his family.

On the counter, his phone rings, the screen lighting up with Seokjin and Miyoung’s smiling faces. Yoongi’s heart beats quickly in his chest, is this the call he has been waiting for? Can he go home? Grabbing the phone, Yoongi takes a deep breath and answers.

“Yeobo,” Yoongi breathes out and he can hear laughter in the speaker.

“Hi, Yoongi.” Seokjin’s voice is music to Yoongi’s ears. A song that makes his whole body flout and drown in endless love.

“Appa!” The voice of his daughter, Miyoung, makes Yoongi smile.

“Would you like to join us for a picnic at the river?” Seokjin offers and Miyoung is in the background singing happily.

Yoongi chews on his bottom lip. Of course he wants to join his family but is it what Seokjin wants? Should Yoongi turn him down?

“I don’t want to make you upset, wangjanim.”

“Miyoung asked for you.”

Yoongi’s heart is at war with itself. He is thrilled that his daughter is asking for him but it hurts knowing that Seokjin wasn’t calling because he missed Yoongi.

Seokjin sighs and speaks into the phone softly, “Don’t make this about us, Yoongikkeo. Our pups miss you and that’s all that matters.”

The pups miss him? Yoongi smiles to himself, “What time?” he questions and Seokjin rattles off the time and location that they will meet. “See you shortly.” Yoongi hangs up and curses. It has been a month of living on his own. Sure, he has seen Miyoung since he left the house. Seokjin isn’t cruel enough to keep her away but it isn’t enough for Yoongi. He wants to go home. He misses the warmth of his mate’s nest and body.

Namjoon and Jungkook keep tabs on Seokjin and give Yoongi daily updates. They let him know that his family is safe at all times. Not being at home puts Yoongi on edge, so he makes sure that two of his men are keeping guard at all times. He isn’t going to put Seokjin’s life nor his daughter’s life at risk just because he fucked up. Scrolling on his phone, Yoongi shoots Jimin a quick text, asking him to stop by Seokjin’s favorite bakery to pick up an assortment of treats along with a strawberry boba tea for Miyoung.

Once off the phone, Yoongi hurries to his room and changes out of his loungewear into something more suited for the park. Yoongi pulls on a pair of light blue wide leg jeans, a white button up and throws a soft, pale yellow cardigan over top. Looking in the mirror he styles his hair to show off his forehead by parting it in the middle and letting his bangs frame his face. It’s a look that Seokjin loves and has told him so many times.

He replaces his contacts with glasses and brushes his teeth quickly for that extra kick of freshness. Spraying Acqua di Gio cologne on the inside of his elbow and running them down the length of his torso, Yoongi is ready to head to the park. He grabs a pair of light tan slip-on shoes on his way out the door and double checks he has his phone, wallet and gun.

On his way to the park, Yoongi meets with Jimin four blocks away and takes the baked goods from his friend. Jimin teases Yoongi for looking like such a dilf and Yoongi flips him off, his neck flushed in embarrassment. He knows he looks good and he hopes that Seokjin thinks so too. Finding a parking spot at the park isn’t too hard. Yoongi spots Seokjin’s car and parks beside him, smiling to himself when he sees Miyoung’s car seat in the back. Stepping out of the car, Yoongi grabs the box of treats and Miyoung’s drink before he scans the area for his pack. He spots Namjoon in the distance setting up a bunch of blankets and pillows while Seokjin sits in a foldable chair.

Jungkook is on the playground chasing Miyoung around while making what sounds like a dying cat (or maybe dinosaur?) noise. From this distance, Yoongi can’t help but grin. It seems that the three of them are dressed in matching colors. Seokjin has on a yellow and tan ombre sweater with light yellow pants and tan slide-ons. Miyoung is dressed in blue flared jeans with a cute chain belt and a pale yellow shirt with tan and white sneakers. Shaking his head, Yoongi walks into the park and the smile on his face turns gummy when Miyoung screams for him.

“APPA!!!”

She rushes at him as fast as her little legs can go and Yoongi braces himself for impact. Thankfully, Jungkook is there to grab the box of treats and drink so that Yoongi can squat down and catch his pup in his arms.

“Appa, I’ve missed you!” Miyoung whines and starts to giggle when Yoongi stands up and swings her around in the air.

“My little angel, Appa has missed you so much! Look how big you’ve gotten.” Yoongi sets his daughter on his hip and kisses her cheek a million times, rubbing their noses and cheek together to scent his pup. He can feel a pair of eyes on him and when he looks in Seokjin’s direction, sure enough his husband is staring at him with the softest of smiles on his face. Yoongi doesn’t miss the darkness in Seokjin’s eyes and licks his lips as his gut starts to roll. Now is not the time to think about taking his husband against the nearest tree, though the idea is hard to shake off.

“Have you had fun with Daddy?”

Miyoung nods her head and pouts, “Can you come home now? I miss playing with you and Daddy doesn’t make good voices when he reads.”

Yoongi chuckles and hugs Miyoung a little tighter in his arms as he heads over to the picnic blanket where Seokjin, Namjoon and Jungkook are now waiting. As he gets closer, Yoongi notices that Seokjin’s stomach has gotten bigger and he frowns. A month away felt like a long time but looking at Seokjin, Yoongi feels like he had not seen Seokjin in over a year.

“How are you feeling, yeobo?” Yoongi finds himself moving on auto pilot, leaning in close to touch Seokjin’s belly and press his lips to Seokjin’s. Seokjin turns his head and Yoongi’s lips graze the soft skin of his cheek. The scent of Yoongi’s cologne, bergamot, tangerine and patchouli tickles Seokjin’s nose. But it is the smoky thyme that makes Seokjin clear his throat as he grabs Yoongi’s wrist and slides it a little more to the right where the baby is kicking.

“We’re fine. The pup is fine and I have a little more energy this month. The next appointment we can find out the gender.”

“Can I come?” Yoongi’s voice is tentative, shaky in a way that Namjoon and Jungkook have only heard when Yoongi is speaking with Seokjin, vulnerable.

Seokjin nods his head with a sigh and motions for Yoongi to put Miyoung down. “You’re still her father, Yoongi. Stop acting like the world is ending.”

Yoongi carefully puts Miyoung on the ground and offers his hand to Seokjin to help him sit on the pillows stacked around on the ground from Namjoon’s half-assed nest.

“You are my world,” Yoongi admits and Seokjin rolls his eyes as he places his hand into Yoongi's palm.

“Could have fooled me.”

Yoongi ignores Seokjin’s harsh words and watches as Namjoon holds one of the pillows in place for Seokjin to sit on. Once Seokjin is seated, Yoongi sits down and Miyoung crawls into his lap with her bobo tea clutched in her hands. Yoongi kisses the top of his daughter’s head and wraps an arm around her little body.

“Are you hungry my angel?”

Yoongi enjoys the time spent with his family, not even minding that Jungkook and Namjoon are with them. The two men are just as much his family as Seokjin and his daughter. Seokjin rises to his feet, holding the underside of his stomach with a small grimace.

“What’s wrong, yeobo?” Yoongi jumps to his feet and Seokjin waves him off.

“I’m fine. The pup is sitting on my bladder weird.”

Yoongi turns to his packmates, “Keep an eye on Miyoung, we’ll be back.”

He wraps an arm around Seokjin’s waist and supports his stomach with his other hand; Seokjin doesn’t protest.

“Bag,” Seokjin manages to grunt out as the baby kicks him rather hard. Jungkook holds up the carrier that Seokjin totes around filled with necessities that Miyoung often needs like hand wipes, bottles of water, band-aids, pain medicine and snacks. Yoongi quickly takes the bag and hikes it onto his shoulder. Together, the two of them head to the public bathroom, the bag bouncing against Yoongi’s back a little as they walk.

“You didn’t have to come with me, Yoongi.”

“Stop pushing me away, please?” Yoongi pleads as they reach the bathrooms. “Let me take care of you.”

Seokjin sighs and Yoongi pulls away, pushing open the door to the family restroom. Once Seokjin is inside, Yoongi locks the door and slides the bag down his arm. He digs inside, pulling out the hand wipes and motions for Seokjin to give him a minute to clean the stall. Yoongi wipes down everything that he thinks Seokjin will touch and hands his husband a roll of toilet paper that was tucked away in another pocket of the bag. Seokjin steps into the stall and shuts the door, grunting as he tugs down his pants and underwear. Standing with his bare ass out, Seokjin inhales sharply as the baby kicks him again.

“You okay?!” Yoongi reaches for the stall and stops himself at the last second.

“I’m fine!” Seokjin snaps, his scent bitter as he sighs deeply. “Can you get out? I don’t need you listening to me take a piss.”

“No.”

“Yoongi-”

“Just pee already, Seokjin.”

Seokjin? Hearing his name fall from Yoongi’s lips stings but Seokjin bites his tongue. He is the one that kicked Yoongi out of their den. He is the one that won’t let his alpha come back…

A sob breaks the silence followed by the sound of Seokjin relieving himself and the scent of rotten peaches proliferates the air; Yoongi rubs the back of his neck. He looks up at the ceiling and frowns. He wants to kick down the bathroom stall and hold Seokjin in his arms but he knows better.

“I didn’t mean it, nae sarang.”

Yoongi runs a hand through his hair, ever since they started their relationship, Seokjin hated being called by his name. He was Yoongi’s darling, his love, his omega…his everything.

The toilet flushes and Yoongi takes a step towards the bathroom stall, waiting for Seokjin to unlock it. Inside, Seokjin weeps, tears dripping down his face as he struggles to pull his pants back up. It is a stupid reason to cry but hearing Yoongi use his first name hurts deeper than any pain Seokjin can recall feeling.

Yoongi sighs loudly and thumps his forehead against the stall as he tries to speak. “Yeobo…I-I-”

What can he say? How can he fix his mistake? All of them.

“I love you, yeobo. You hear me? I fucking love you, Kim Seokjin.”

Seokjin manages to tug his pants up and turns around, staring at the stall door.

“You love me?” Seokjin’s question is a knife to Yoongi’s heart but he nods his head nonetheless.

“I would do anything to prove it to you, nae sarang.”

“Anything?”

The lock clicks out of place and Yoongi nearly falls as Seokjin opens the stall door. They stare at each other in silence, Seokjin’s eyes are red and puffy from crying while Yoongi’s are tinted pink from holding his tears back. He takes a step forward, standing toe to toe with Seokjin, looking up slightly at the older man.

“Anything.” Yoongi repeats, his voice firm as he stares Seokjin right in his eyes.

Yoongi’s hands rest on Seokjin's tummy, the warmth seeping through the material of his sweater and Seokjin places his hands over top of Yoongi’s. The pup kicks a few times and Yoongi smiles. He has missed this, missed everything about his mate.

“I miss you, ‘mega.”

Seokjin allows Yoongi to slip his hands underneath his sweater; the skin of his stomach is tight and smooth. The pads of Yoongi’s fingertips scratch against Seokjin’s skin, making goosebump rise and Seokjin shiver.

“Do you miss me?”

His hands trail farther up Seokjin’s sweater, the material loose enough for Yoongi to freely move around. The bottom of Seokjin’s tummy peeks out and he gasps when Yoongi’s thumbs graze the underside of his pecs before they brush over his sensitive nipples. They pebble up, hard and stiff, making Yoongi lick his lips and smirk.

“Always so sensitive around this time…” Yoongi whispers and Seokjin gulps, his Adam's apple bobbing harshly as he inhales shallow breaths of air. Smoky thyme becomes heady and threatens to suffocate Seokjin.

“Do you miss me, yeobo? Miss my touch?” Yoongi pinches one of Seokjin’s nipples teasingly and Seokjin whines, the ache shooting right to his groin and making him chub up as slick starts to wet his underwear.

Leaning in, Yoongi ghosts his lips along the column of Seokjin’s throat. He licks a wet strip with the tip of his tongue at Seokjin’s scent gland, tasting salty flesh and cinnamon peaches before he kisses just below Seokjin’s jaw.

“Say it.” Yoongi orders softly, his breath washing over the wet strip of skin on Seokjin’s neck. “Say you miss me and I’ll do anything.”

Seokjin struggles to find his words, the scent of Yoongi mixed with his touch and words is fogging up his mind. How can Seokjin respond when his mind is nothing more than a warm syrupy puddle?

Yoongi pulls away, his eyes a deep red and merciless as he stares up at his mate from under his lashes.

“No?” Yoongi teases Seokjin’s nipples as he speaks softly, his thumbs tracing small circles on the pebbled flesh. He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and nods his head, humming to himself. “As you wish, omega.” Yoongi slowly pulls his hands from under Seokjin’s sweater, making sure to touch every inch of skin as he goes.

Seokjin’s hands grasp Yoongi’s wrists and Yoongi raises one eyebrow, his face lighting up as one side of his lips quirks upward in an amused smirk. Seokjin’s face is flushed, his chest is heaving up and down and his pupils are dilated, making his eyes look almost black with a thin blue ring. Yoongi knows what that look means. Ignoring Seokjin’s hands on him, Yoongi reaches up and cups Seokjin’s cheeks gently.

Not taking his eyes off his husband, Yoongi pulls him down slightly and tilts his face upward as he leans in again. Their lips touch and Seokjin’s eyes flutter shut as his fingers dig into Yoongi’s wrists. Yoongi allows for Seokjin to control the kiss at first, giving his husband the out he might need if he really doesn’t want Yoongi. Seokjin deepens the kiss, pressing his body as close to Yoongi’s as it can be with his stomach in the way. He is needy, hungry for Yoongi’s touch as he licks at the smaller man’s mouth and nibbles at his lip.

Yoongi gives into Seokjin’s silent begging and lets his mate explore his mouth, taste every bit of himself. Seokjin moans into the kiss as Yoongi slips one of his legs in between Seokjin's and presses up against his fully erect cocklet. It isn’t enough. Seokjin wants more and he starts to rut against Yoongi’s thigh.

“Easy, lovely,” Yoongi whispers into the kiss as he places his hands on Seokjin’s hips. He pulls his mate into his body and presses him against the stall, resting his forehead on Seokjin's shoulder.

“Let me take care of you.” Yoongi shoves his hand into Seokjin’s pants and relishes in the sounds pouring from Seokjin’s mouth as he wraps his fingers around the little cocklet that is squished against his thigh.

“Feel good, yeobo?” Yoongi questions as he smears Seokjin’s precum and slick along the tip of his leaking head. Seokjin throws his head back and gasps as Yoongi’s finger presses into the slit before spreading more of his precum. “Tell me ‘mega-”

Yoongi’s head snaps over to the door when he hears footsteps coming and he slaps a hand over Seokjin’s mouth to muffle his moans. A knock at the door makes Yoongi smirk while Seokjin’s eyes widen.

“Just a moment!” Yoongi calls as he quickens his strokes on Seokjin’s throbbing member. He smiles wickedly at Seokjin and licks at the taller man’s neck whispering hotly in his ear. “Better come quickly. Unless you want everyone to know what a needy little breeding bitch you are.”

Seokjin groans against Yoongi’s hand and his eyes fill with fresh tears. He grabs at Yoongi’s shirt and before Yoongi can say anything, a warm wetness coats his hand. Yoongi’s eyes soften as tears spill down Seokjin’s face, wetting his other hand.

“Oh, yeobo. You really missed me, huh?”

Carefully, Yoongi pulls his hand from Seokjin’s pants and steps away from his husband. He grabs the toilet paper and helps clean Seokjin up before he flushes the evidence down the toilet and washes his hands. He helps Seokjin change into a fresh pair of panties and tugs up his pants, tossing the soiled underwear into a baggy and shoving it at the bottom of the bag.

“I still can’t believe you carry around extra underwear,” Yoongi chuckles and Seokjin’s face flushes.

“S-Shut up!” Seokjin stammers and Yoongi kisses his cheek. They have learned from Seokjin’s first pregnancy that it doesn’t take much for Seokjin to get horny, and they are safer packing a few changes of underwear in case Seokjin gets a little too excited and leaks. Seokjin washes his own hands and splashes his face with cool water before he cuddles into Yoongi’s side feeling tired. Yoongi sprays a small amount of scent neutralizer in the air to mask their scents for anyone who comes in after them. Seokjin’s stomach growls and Yoongi kisses his cheek.

“Come on, yeobo. I think our little one is getting hungry.”

“One day, a little blue fish followed after him. “Rainbow Fish,” he called, “wait for me! Please give me one of your shiny scales. They are so wonderful, and-”

“She is sleeping, naekkeo.” Seokjin’s voice is the softest of whispers as he stands in the doorway of their daughter’s room.

“You know she plays pos- ”

Yoongi is cut off by the sound of a soft snore and he looks over the top of the book in his hand. Miyoung is sound asleep, curled up around one of her bear stuffies that Taehyung got her on her fifth birthday. Yoongi smiles and places the bookmark on the page he is reading before he closes ‘The Rainbow Fish’ and slowly gets up from the seat beside the bed. Setting the book back on the bookshelf, Yoongi walks over to the doorway and takes in the sight of his mate. Seokjin is fresh out of the shower, his hair looks darker since it is still damp and brushed out of his face. He wears a black paisley matching two piece short set that shows off his legs, making Yoongi’s mouth water and dry at the same time.

“Should we head to bed, yeobo?” Yoongi questions as he reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind Seokjin’s ear. “I’ll give you a massage if you want.” Yoongi wraps his arms around Seokjin’s waist, his hands resting low on Seokjin’s hips, fingers touching the top of his butt. “Rub the sweet almond and grapeseed oil into your skin? Massage your feet and worship your body the way it should be?”

Yoongi takes small steps forward as he speaks and Seokjin steps backwards until they are out of the room. Reaching behind himself, Yoongi pulls Miyoung’s bedroom door shut and taps Seokjin’s hip twice with gentle eyes. Seokjin hums in agreement, a massage sounds like a lovely way to end the night. Nodding his head, Seokjin jumps up and Yoongi easily supports his pregnant mate as his long legs wrap around his waist. Yoongi smiles as the baby kicks away and Seokjin giggles.

“Will you let me do that, yeobo? Let me care for you? Worship you?”

Yoongi presses Seokjin against the wall, trapping him mid air unable to collect his thoughts. Yoongi sprinkles kisses to Seokjin’s neck, shoulders, collarbone and hollow of his throat. His thumb rubs soothing circles on Seokjin’s sides, the warmth a welcoming and promising feeling.

“Would you like that, omega?”

Seokjin’s eyes are half closed, his lids too heavy to keep open as Yoongi whispers everything he wants to do against his skin. He is a weak man. One that feels wanted and loved.

“Y-Yoongi…”

Yoongi sinks his teeth into the side of Seokjin’s neck, a shallow bite but a bite nonetheless. A warning that goes right to Seokjin’s dick. He gasps and slaps a hand over his mouth to keep quiet.

“Are we back to first names, Jin-ah?” Yoongi’s eyes are red, daring as he stares at Seokjin waiting for his answers. Seokjin shakes his head and Yoongi grins, all teeth. “Can’t wait to hear all the pretty sounds you’ll make for me.”

Yoongi wastes no time in carrying Seokjin to their bedroom. He keeps his hands on Seokjin’s ass, squeezing the globs of flesh and teasing the puckered ring of muscle through the fabric of Seokjin’s shorts. It is a sweet torture that Seokjin has craved since Yoongi left. Now that his husband is home, Seokjin will take everything that Yoongi is willing to give him. If he wants to worship his body and play his body like his personal instrument, who is Seokjin to deny such a request?

In the bedroom, Yoongi kicks the door shut and locks it behind him. He walks over to the bed and sets Seokjin down gently. Yoongi doesn’t want to upset the little one that should be sleeping right now inside of Seokjin’s tummy.

“Strip for me, wangjanim.” Yoongi’s words are a soft order and he leaves Seokjin’s side to grab the massage oil, pink silk wrist restraints, the matching silk blindfold and lube. If Yoongi is to worship Seokjin, he is going to do it right. Yoongi hears the ruffling of fabric as he moves around in their shared closet. He steps out and Seokjin is just now stepping out of his sleep shorts. Yoongi smirks when he sees that his husband isn’t wearing any underwear.

Standing by the side of the bed, completely nude, Seokjin wraps his arms around his stomach, rubbing the sore and stretched skin. His eyes are downcast, staring at the new stretch marks that zigzag on his stomach and hips. He has a love, hate relationship with his stretch marks. They show just how much of himself Seokjin has given for his children but they also show the changes his body has gone through. They are a consent reminder that his body will never be the same ever again.

Pale hands come into Seokjin’s vision, flushed and dark at the knuckles and warm as they smooth over Seokjin’s tummy.

“Get out of your head and focus on me, yeah?” Yoongi demands softly as he caresses the tummy that holds his growing child. “You are so beautiful and I can never thank you enough for the life you have given to me. Miyoung and our new little one…they are my blessings.” Yoongi cups Seokjin’s cheek in one hand and runs his thumb over the apple of his eye.

“You are my greatest blessing in this hellish world I live in.”

Leaning in, Yoongi captures Seokjin’s lips and Seokjin’s body relaxes into the kiss. His body follows every order that Yoongi gives and soon, Seokjin is lying at the top of the bed, his back cushioned by soft pillows while his hands are held down by silk restraints tied to the headboard. Yoongi sits beside him on his knees, a pink blindfold held between his hands with that all too familiar smirk present on his face.

“What’s our safe word darling?”

“B-Borahae,” Seokjin stammers as he shivers under Yoongi’s unblinking gaze. He feels like Yoongi is appraising him, trying to relearn and memorize every inch of his body before he is devoured. It makes Seokjin’s tummy tingle with a hot heat that sits low in his groin. For a moment, Seokjin worries that maybe the baby is sitting on his bladder but as Yoongi moves forward with the pink blindfold in his hands, Seokjin knows that he is okay. The material is cool and smooth as it rests against his eyes and presses lightly into the start of the apples of his cheeks.

Yoongi’s hands are warm and rough, calloused from years of killing and never learning the meaning of hand cream until Seokjin came along. Fingertips leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake as they map out paths for Yoongi to follow later on. From the bottom of Seokjin’s jaw, down the length of his neck, across his collarbones, into the hollow of his throat and down over his chest before his nipples are twisted, pinched and pulled until they are stiff and puffy. Down farther, circling his stomach, up, over and around, again and again, Seokjin shivers. His hips are traced and squeezed, his thighs are kneaded like dough and yet Yoongi goes further still.

Seokjin is on cloud nine, his mind a happy mess of cotton candy caresses and syrup sweet seduction as Yoongi’s voice floods his very being. With his eyes covered, Seokjin’s pleasure is completely up to Yoongi and he makes that known with his heated words, whispering into Seokjin’s ears a low ember just starting to burn.

“So good for me ‘mega, showing me everything that you like.” Yoongi hums as he inhales, his nose pressing against Seokjin’s temple as he speaks. “Will you show me more? Humm? Will you show me everything I've missed?”

Seokjin nods his head, a whimper falling from his lips as Yoongi’s blunt nails scratch over the stretched skin of his tummy. Yoongi shushes him before a wet kiss is placed on his shoulder and Yoongi shifts on the bedding. A cap clicks open, ringing loudly in Seokjin’s ears as he tries to guess what Yoongi will do next. Something is squeezed out of the bottle and from the pleasant sweet and nutty scent that wafts into Seokjin’s nose, he knows that it is his sweet almond and grapeseed oil that Yoongi has promised to rub into his skin.

Skin on skin rubbing together, not dry but moistened by the oil makes Seokjin’s stomach flutter in anticipation. Yoongi’s hands are a wonderful torture when he isn’t killing someone. He always applies just the right amount of pressure to pull the sweetest of sinful sounds from Seokjin’s lips. Seokjin jumps as oil slicked hands press onto his calves and start to massage the warmed wetness into his skin. His muscles flex and tremble as they are rubbed, pressed and rolled into malleable mounds of flesh that tingle in relief. The pressure of carrying a baby no longer strained the overworked tendons and Seokjin sighs in content.

“Feeling better?”

Seokjin is sinking fast as Yoongi’s hands skim upwards, now his thighs are the victims of tender touches while feather light kisses cover his tummy. The baby kicks, not enough to hurt but enough for Yoongi to huff out a laugh. The pressure of Yoongi’s forehead pressing into Seokjin’s stomach is soothing as Yoongi mummers to the little one that should be asleep by now. In the quiet of the room, Seokjin smiles to himself as he listens to Yoongi’s secret words. He thinks that his lover might have forgotten that with his eyes covered, his hearing has gotten better.

Yoongi speaks of the days to come, of tiny hands, chubby cheeks and toothless smiles. He promises protection, never ending love and ceaseless laughter. Seokjin believes him, it is a dream that has taken root in his heart. A kiss to the skin where the baby is resting against makes Seokjin’s eyes well with tears and he sniffles a few times trying to get his nose to unclog.

“I haven’t shown you my love and you’re already crying?” Yoongi’s voice is a teasing coo as he rubs Seokjin’s stomach. “Cry if you must. I will not untie you just yet wangjanim.”

Seokjin’s fingers wrap around the bounds at his wrist and he bites his lower lip to quiet his cries. He is filled with so much love just from Yoongi’s words alone and it isn’t enough. His heart craves more. He wants Yoongi to smother him with his love and brand it into his skin again and again. Though if Seokjin really thinks about it (he doesn’t), Yoongi already has branded his skin with his love. The darker zig zag lines that cling to his hips are proof of his love outside of Miyoung and the little one that continues to grow in Seokjin’s stomach. The faded red ring of teeth is another brand, one so loud that it screams in the silence.

More and more kisses are pressed to Seokjin’s skin, following the path that Yoongi’s hand created. Seokjin’s skin is tingling with need, he tries to cross his legs, press his thighs close together to maybe offer some relief but Yoongi is quick. He swats at Seokjin’s left thigh, the skin becoming flushed with the sudden strike. It isn’t hard but enough for Seokjin to gasp as his cocklet twitches. Yoongi shifts on the bed and Seokjin holds his breath as he strains his ears. What is his dear mate up to now?

Hands touch his stomach and Seokjin relaxes into the warmth of Yoongi’s very existence. Invisible shapes are traced onto his skin, his stretch marks are grazed over with so much love that Seokjin struggles to breathe. Yoongi’s breath is cool as it washes over Seokjin’s chin and soon lips are on his. He can taste love on Yoongi’s tongue, unspoken words that are swapped in between split slick tongues and bitten moans.

Yoongi easily settles himself between Seokjin’s spread legs and snakes a hand between their bodies. Having Seokjin sitting up opposed to laying flat on his back, makes the move easier for Yoongi to slide his hand below Seokjin’s swollen stomach and allow for his fingers to pet the dark curls of hair that Seokjin hasn’t had groomed since Yoongi left the house.

Yoongi grins against Seokjin’s mouth as the older gasps, his cocklet again twitching at the promise of getting attention. Yoongi licks into Seokjin’s mouth, hungry and ready to suck down anything that Seokjin will give him.

“Mmm!” Seokjin breaks the kiss panting against Yoongi’s mouth, “P-Please, wanna…wanna feel-” Seokjin��s words fall into messy whines as he tries to grind against Yoongi’s hand, the head of his cocklet just kissing the tips of Yoongi’s fingers.

“Tell Alpha what you want and I’ll give it to you. Tell me what you need.”

“You!” Seokjin sobs, his tears soaking the blindfold and turning it a dark pink. “I w-want you, Alpha!”

Yoongi huffs, his lips pulling into a smirk as he presses his mouth against Seokjin’s once more as he wraps his fingers around his husband’s leaking tip. Seokjin cries harder and Yoongi starts to circle the messy tip with his thumb. It isn’t enough, it isn’t nearly enough but Seokjin will take it. He knows that Yoongi will give him what he wants soon enough.

“I hate it when you cry darling.” Yoongi whispers as he pulls his face away from Seokjin’s and rips the blindfold off his face. Seokjin blinks quickly, his vision blurred with tears and spotted with darkness.

“But, fuck! You look so pretty when you cry for me though,” Yoongi coos as he wipes at Seokjin’s tears with his free hand. He leans forward and licks a missed tear from Seokjin’s cheek and kisses his temple. “Will you let Alpha fuck you, ‘mega? Knock you up with twins this time?”

Seokjin whines and pushes at Yoongi’s chest, “S-Shut up. I’m already p-pregnant!”

Yoongi laughs and licks his lips as he looks down at Seokjin’s large stomach. He is much larger than he was the last time with Miyoung. He slides back and fixes the pillows around Seokjin, placing another at his lower back to help him sit up better since he slid down slightly.

“You have enough room yeobo,” Yoongi teases as he rubs Seokjin’s stomach. “What’s one more?”

Yoongi knows his words don’t make sense but they have the desired effect on Seokjin. His husband will not say it out loud but they both know Seokjin has a breeding kink. And what kind of mate would Yoongi be if he didn’t indulge his heart every once in a while. Yoongi strokes Seokjin slowly, gathering his precum before he slides his hand away, between Seokjin’s ass and teases the fluttering hole. Seokjin’s fingers are pale, his knuckles nearly white from squeezing his restraints so hard and Yoongi grins, all teeth and gums as he pulls his hand away and holds up his palm to Seokjin.

“Sp-”

Yoongi doesn’t even get the chance to speak before Seokjin spits right into his hand, his lower lip glistening from the saliva. Yoongi hums in delight, he loves it when Seokjin is just as nasty as him.

“That’s my good omega. So perfect for me, yeobo.”

Yoongi angles his hand downward and lets Seokjin’s split slide towards his fingers before he reaches back down between Seokjin’s ass. The mixture of spit, slick and precum is messy, slippery and just the right amount as Yoongi slips his middle and index finger into Seokjin with no resistance. Seokjin’s moan is high pitched, almost a keen as he tries to sink down farther onto Yoongi’s fingers. He knows that Yoongi is only two knuckles deep, he can go deeper.

“Easy, darling.” Yoongi teases, his cat eyes trained on Seokjin’s hole sucking his fingers in as he tries to pull them out. The tug of war between the two has Seokjin’s head spinning and Yoongi is unable to look away. He adds his ring finger as well and now Seokjin is falling apart on three of Yoongi’s fingers. The space is tight with a little burn that leaves Seokjin wanting more. Tears once again stream down his face, as Yoongi starts to tug at his flushed and leaking length.

“Make a mess for me to clean. Wanna treat you right, wangjanim”

Seokjin nods his head at Yoongi’s words, his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead as he tries to verbalize his response but it’s no use. He can’t form any words yet alone any sound other than his long drawn out moans as Yoongi pulls him apart. Blood rushes behind his ears. His face, neck and ears are flushed and his heart is pounding so loudly.

“Y-Yoon! F-Fuuuuk!”

Seokjin’s body tenses for a moment as Yoongi’s fingers brush against his prostate. Yoongi grins to himself, this is what he wants. Seokjin is a babbling mess, unable to think of anything but the need to come before he begs Yoongi for his knot. Seokjin’s head is spinning as he paints the underside of his stomach white as his cum shoots out and dribbles down the sides of Yoongi’s fingers. His heart is pounding harshly and so loudly that Seokjin is sure Yoongi can hear it. Yoongi keeps a tight grip on Seokjin’s softening member and eases his fingers out with a smile on his face.

“Too much?” Yoongi muses and Seokjin shakes his head quickly. “Still want more?”

“Want your knot, Alpha!” Seokjin’s eyes are large and wet as he begs for Yoongi. What pretty words he says, always knows just how to get Yoongi to do what he wants.

Not taking his eyes off Seokjin, Yoongi licks at his fingers. His tongue collects the spilled cum and he makes a show of swallowing it all down, humming in delight at the sweet and salty taste. Seokjin bites his lip and watches in awe, his eyes blown wide with a thin ring of blue as Yoongi licks his lips before smacking them. He shoots Seokjin a wink and slides down the length of the bed, his face now between Seokjin’s leg and he licks his lips again.

“Made such a mess for me ‘mega. Let Alpha clean you up and then I’ll give you my knot.”

“Yes!” Seokjin mewls, his legs spreading farther apart and Yoongi chuckles.

Wasting no time, Yoongi licks and sucks away the spilled cum making sure not to miss any. He would hate to waste such a treat. He carefully moves Seokjin’s legs until they are bent at the knees and spread wide apart before he grabs Seokjin’s ass and spreads his cheeks. His slurps up the mess he made, Seokjin spit and slick mixing together on Yoongi’s tongue. From the sounds that Seokjin is making, Yoongi is sure that he could come again without his prostate being touched. Wordlessly, Yoongi grabs Seokjin cocklet and wiggles the tip of his tongue on the slit of the head where a clear bead of precum is already starting to drool out.

“Yoongi!” Seokjin yowls, his pitch high and frazzled.

Yoongi pays him little mind as he wraps his lips around the flushed tip and sucks Seokjin deep into his mouth, his lips and nose tickled by dark pubes. He sucks and swallows around the short length, using his split slicked hand to fondle Seokjin’s balls, silently daring the man to deny him another taste of his cum. Seokjin is sensitive and horny, this pregnancy is worse than his first and with Yoongi between his legs all he can do is come again with his mate’s name on his lips. Yoongi purrs as he gulps down Seokjin’s release and lets the softened member slip from his lips. Licking his lips, Yoongi shuffles back up the bed, still settled between Seokjin’s legs but now hovering over his sweet husband.

“Did so good for Alpha. So fucking perfect for me,” Yoongi whispers as he leans down and captures Seokjin’s lips that are swollen from how much he has bit them.

Seokjin pulls at the restraints on his wrists and nips at Yoongi’s lower lip before he pulls his face away and widens his eyes. From above, Yoongi looks so much larger than he really is. Strands of his dark hair stick to his damp face, his lips are a deep mauve color from spending time between Seokjin’s legs and stealing so many kisses. Yoongi’s shoulders are powerful, wide and tempting. Seokjin wishes he wasn’t pregnant only for a moment just so he can throw his legs over Yoongi’s shoulders as his husband folds him like a pretzel.

“What are you thinking about yeobo?”

Seokjin blinks slowly as he focuses on Yoongi’s face, he looks so natural looming above him and it makes Seokjin’s mouth water as his omega rolls over willingly. He swallows thickly and nuzzles his face into Yoongi’s forearm, littering small wet kisses to the bulging veins that stand out against his pale skin.

“Want you to fuck me A-Alpha,” Seokjin moans, throwing his head back to show off his long marked neck. “Need you so bad.” Seokjin makes his voice airy as he rolls his hips, pressing himself flush against Yoongi’s thick cock. It was a no-brainer when Seokjin found out he was pregnant with Yoongi’s pup. He couldn’t even deny it if he wanted to. Yoongi was made to breed and Seokjin was his to use.

Seokjin’s needy words go right to Yoongi’s cock, the tip is already flushed and angry, drooling clear, honey like precum just from Seokjin’s words. Nodding his head, Yoongi sits back on his knees and strokes himself twice before he lines himself up with Seokjin's puffy hole. He presses the tip of his dick in slightly and the moan that fills the air makes the hair on the back of Yoongi’s neck stand up. God, his husband is so fucking loud and he hasn’t even done anything yet.

“You’ll wake the baby…” Yoongi teases as he pulls away and Seokjin whines, turning his head to bite into the meat of his bicep to silence himself.

Knowing that he locked the door already, Yoongi isn’t worried about Miyoung barging into their room, but it is still fun to tease his husband. Plus after Miyoung turned one, Yoongi had their room remodeled so that no one could hear Seokjin’s sinful shouts as Yoongi took him again and again. Narrowing his eyes, Yoongi reaches out and strokes the side of Seokjin’s face. He digs his thumb into Seokjin’s lower lip and pulls slightly, making Seokjin release his bicep from between his teeth. Yoongi makes a scolding tisk as he sucks his teeth and groans as Seokjin sucks his thumb into his mouth.

“That’s it, darling. Stay nice and quiet for me.”

Easing his hips forward, Yoongi’s cockhead is meant with the slight resistance before he slides right in, the warm walls greedily sucking him in little by little. Yoongi nearly forgot how tight his husband is, the way his walls squeeze him like a vice that refuses to let him go. Seokjin’s moans are muffled as Yoongi presses down on his tongue with his thumb. Yoongi’s brows knit together as he bottoms out, his pelvis flush against the back of Seokjin’s thighs.

“M-More!” Seokjin pleads around Yoongi’s finger and Yoongi does as he’s told.

He circles his hips, grinding against Seokjin’s thighs, refusing to move away just yet. He sits heavy inside of Seokjin, carving a place for his cock as he starts to roll his hips like he’s dancing. Seokjin whimpers as he tries to move his own hips but Yoongi is quick to grab hold of them and pin him to the mattress.

“Let me do the work. You just relax and enjoy it, wangjanim.”

Yoongi keeps his eyes on Seokjin’s face, watching as his nose scrunches up in pleasure, his mouth parts and eyes slip close once Yoongi finally starts to really move. He rocks his hips back and forth, the lewd squishing sound nearly drowns out his balls slapping against the wet skin of Seokjin’s ass. It is loud, hot, sweaty and intoxicating. Yoongi wouldn’t trade this moment for anything in the world and as Seokjin moans his name over and over, Yoongi knows that this is where he is meant to be, forever.

“W-Wait!” Seokjin cries out and he tries to close his legs, pushing Yoongi away.

Yoongi stops all of his movements and raises an eyebrow to which Seokjin inhales a shaky breath.

“Borah-aae.”

Yoongi immediately pulls out and rolls from between Seokjin’s legs. He crawls up to the headboard and unties Seokjin’s wrists, pulling them up to his face and kissing the discolored skin.

“Did I hurt you? What’s wrong?”

Yoongi’s eyes are wild as they dart around Seokjin’s body trying to find the source of his discomfort but Seokjin shakes his head as he pulls his wrists from Yoongi’s hold.

“I-” Seokjin’s ears burn hot and he wiggles to the edge of the bed.

Yoongi is right there by his side, helping Seokjin stand up on his own two feet.

Splash

Seokjin’s eyes widen and he stands frozen while Yoongi’s eyes drop down to the dark spot of water on the area rug. Slowly, Yoongi’s eyes widen in realization and his head snaps up to look at Seokjin who looks more embarrassed than concerned. Yoongi carefully moves Seokjin away from the mess on the floor and leads him into the bathroom with steady steps, one after the other.

“Any pain?”

“A two?”

“Cramps? Do you want to shower or take a bath?”

“A shower would be nice. I don’t want to go to the hospital smelling like sex, naekkeo.”

Yoongi huffs a laugh and settles Seokjin on the toilet before he starts to set up the shower making sure that the water is warm enough to steam up but not burn Seokjin’s skin. He helps Seokjin into the shower first before he joins him and quickly washes.

“Stay in here and relax. I need to call the guys and pack the car.”

Yoongi moves to leave the shower and Seokjin grabs his arm. He turns around and Seokjin smiles, taking a few steps forward. Seokjin wraps his arms around Yoongi’s shoulders and hugs him as tightly as he can.

“I love you, Yoongi-ah.”

Yoongi hugs Seokjin lightly and rubs his hands up and down the small of Seokjin’s back as he sinks into the love.

“I love you too, Jin-ah.” Pulling away, Yoongi cups Seokjin’s cheek and presses his lips to his. “I’ll be back for you in a minute.”

Yoongi exits the shower and grabs a towel, not bothering to wrap it around his waist as he towels himself off as he walks. In the bedroom, he finds his phone tangled in the clothing on the floor and grabs it. He calls Namjoon first and informs him that the baby is coming and it is time to get shit rolling. Once he is off the phone with Namjoon, Yoongi gets himself dressed in a pair of black sweats and a black t-shirt. He grabs a loose pair of blue sleep pants for Seokjin and a pretty white and blue silk top that will hang down past Seokjin’s stomach.

He grabs the hospital bag from the back of the closet and tosses it by the bedroom door before he goes back into the bathroom to check on Seokjin. Yoongi’s phone dings and it’s a text message from Taehyung, letting him know that he is on the way to his house to stay with Miyoung until it is time to bring her to the hospital to meet her newborn sibling. Yoongi heads down stairs and packs a smaller bag with snacks since he knows that the hospital will not let Seokjin eat before his delivery. A few snacks on the way to the hospital is the best that Yoongi can do outside of the ice chips that they will give to Seokjin.

Yoongi sets both bags by the front door and rushes up the steps to his room. He enters the bathroom again and this time, Seokjin is crying in the shower. Yoongi turns the water off and wraps a towel around his mate’s shaking form.

“Pain level?”

“F-Five,” Seokjin cries and Yoongi’s brows pull together in confusion. “W-What if something is wrong?” Seokjin starts to go down that path and Yoongi shakes his head.

“We are fine, yeobo. The pup is fine. They just got a little excited to meet us.” Yoongi’s voice is as reassuring as it can be. Sure the baby is coming early, a full month early, but Yoongi is sure that everything will be okay.

He helps Seokjin out of the bathroom and gets him dressed. He brushes Seokjin’s hair and tosses it into a claw clip to keep the damp strands out of his face. The sound of footsteps catches Yoongi’s attention and stands behind Seokjin rubbing his shoulders as the older man rubs his tummy soothingly. There is a knock at the door before it opens and Taehyung walks in with Jimin behind him.

“Miyoung still sleeping?” Taehyung questions as Jimin pushes past him to walk into the room and drop down onto his knees in front of Seokjin.

Yoongi rolls his eyes and nods his head as Jimin starts to rub Seokjin’s tummy while speaking in whispers to the baby. Taehyung walks over and gives Yoongi a hug before he pats Seokjin’s head and kisses his cheek.

“Thank you for everything,” Seokjin mummers with a smile as Yoongi and Taehyung help him up from his seat. He is wearing a set of old maternity underwear along with one of the few pads that he had left over from Miyoung’s birth.

“We would do it again in a heartbeat,” Jimin beams as he leans in and wraps his arms around Seokjin kissing his cheek. “Now go! I’m not ready to see the little one just yet.”

Yoongi takes hold of Seokjin’s hand and the two leave the room with Taehyung and Jimin right behind them.

“Hoseok is in charge until further notice. Namjoon will keep everyone posted.”

“You got it boss man!” Jimin and Taehyung both salute Yoongi and he flips them off before he leads Seokjin down the steps.

Yoongi grabs the bags by the door and swings them over his shoulder before he heads outside and to the car with Seokjin. He opens the passenger side and helps Seokjin inside before handing him the snack bag. The other bag is tossed in the back seat and Yoongi jumps into the driver seat. As he puts his seatbelt on he looks over at Seokjin.

“Level?”

“Still a five.”

“How far apart are your contractions?”

“Fifteen minutes...maybe less?”

“We got this darling.” Yoongi backs out of the driveway and heads to the hospital. Halfway there, Seokjin starts his breathing exercises and Yoongi puts on one of Seokjin’s favorite albums on the radio. Seokjin keeps one hand on his tummy, rubbing it in small circles, where Yoongi thinks the baby is and his other hand is laced with Yoongi’s in Yoongi’s lap. Raising their joined hands, Yoongi kisses the back of Seokjin’s hand and grins, all teeth and gums.

“If it’s a girl?”

“Micha.”

“A boy?”

“Youngtae.”

Yoongi’s smile widens. He loves the names that they picked out and he cannot wait to meet his little one. At the hospital, Seokjin is every bit of a monster. Gone is Yoongi’s sweet and gentle lover, now replaced with an angry omega who wishes death upon Yoongi a thousand times over for causing him so much pain. Since Seokjin’s contractions hit all at once so quickly, they missed the cut for an epidural and now Seokjin has to have the baby without one.

Yoongi’s bones feel like they will be ground into dust with how harshly Seokjin’s is squeezing his hand. Both of them are sweating but only Seokjin is sobbing, his face puffy and nose snotty as big fat tears roll down his face. He is screaming, cursing Yoongi for ever tempting him into his nest. He doesn’t say that he hates Yoongi but with how he glares, Yoongi thinks a little part of him might.

A little wail shatters the tension in the room and an urgency like never before floods the room. Seokjin is sobbing into Yoongi’s chest as doctors and nurses run around with different things in their hands. Yoongi smooths a hand over Seokjin’s hair and kisses the top of his sweaty head.

“You did so good, yeobo. So good. Our pup is okay…”

“Wan-wanna see them.” Seokjin whispers, exhausted from childbirth. He just wants to sleep for a little bit but he cannot do that until he sees with his own two eyes that his baby is okay. Yoongi watches the doctors as they move about and soon a nurse walks over with a tiny pink blanket in her arms.

“It’s a girl,” she informs the couple and a new set of tears falls from Seokjin’s eyes. Yoongi’s eyes start to mist over but he clears his throat and helps Seokjin take their daughter from the nurse.

He slides the side of Seokjin’s hospital gown down and eases the baby onto Seokjin’s bare skin. His own hand rests on the baby’s bare back and he finally cries when his little girl’s cries quite right down now that she is safe in her parent’s hold.

“Micha…our beautiful daughter.” Yoongi leans down and presses a kiss to her little head before he kisses Seokjin’s temple. He presses his nose into Seokjin’s sweaty skin and inhales deeply, “I love you. I love you so much, yeobo.”

#yoonjin fic #yoonjin smut #seokjin smut #yoongi smut #bts angst #yoongi fluff #seokjin fluff #bts gang au #bts a/b/o #bts mpreg #fic: before now and after #soc yoongi #soc seokjin #divider by benkeibear #divider by saradika

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honey-minded-hivemind · 7 months ago

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Heya,

Me again (❤️ anon) and I just read your dream post (funny that after you wish me good dreams about the platonic yanderes that you end up having one 😊) and I was just wondering a few things:

Is the reader part of this story as well? If yes, what “group” are they in? Are they part of the younger kids?

If so, is there anything like inter-personal (not talking about romance more so like, who’s best friends with who? Who knows who since childhood? Just stuff like that)

And lastly, I really like the idea of like the different cliques of people, like the jocks (Scott vibes), theater kids (I kind of get Kurt from that), the "delinquents with a heart of gold” (obviously Logan). Also, I have this scene of reader maybe being a new student at the school and maybe getting picked on/bullied by someone - probably the humans or something if this is also a mutant!au - and Logan or one of the others just being like: “that’s a pup right there, not letting someone walk all over them” and basically taking them under their wing

Feel free to answer or ignore or whatever. I love the idea ❤️ (Also, I’ve started writing the little 🖤 dark au scene)

-❤️ Anon

Yep is rather funny, isn't it, ❤ Anon?😂😅 To answer your questions:

• Yes, Reader is definitely a part of the story as well! And yes, they are part of the younger kids! I'm going to say they are the youngest, actually, and are part of the school due to having higher grades or more potential? compared to most of their old schoolmates/classmates...

• Some of them have known each other since childhood! Victor and Logan are brothers (Logan did get amnesia or his memories blurred, though; Victor is his protective and obsessed older sibling/friend), Kurt and Rogue are adopted/step siblings (it happened a few years ago), Wanda and Pietro are Erik's kids, but are kinda... adopted or were government experiments, they're friends with Lance and Todd and Fred, as well as Evan... Scott and Jean were best friends, and still are, just getting romantic with each other, Kitty, Kurt, and Evan are a friend trio, a qunituplet if you add Pietro and Todd/Toad, the Brotherhood form a small group at times, so do the X-Kids and older X-Teens, Warren and Hank and Bobby are buddies and lab partners, etc. ... So, a lot of them do get along and have little groups and dynamics, it just can get a bit confusing who knows who, and how they know each other😅😊

• And yeah, there are some cliques, they aren't as pronounced, but they are there. It IS a mutant au, good eye! There are a few human students, too, and they can be a bit of a pain... And... there is a dark side to the campus, lurking beneath the calmer school exterior. Look too deep, and you can't go back to how things were... And yep! Reader ends up as a target, being younger (like, fourteen years old or the youngest fifteen year old there) and having a mutation, possibly an odd one or one that isn't really seen or known, paints a target on them... Then they're such a kind and empathetic person to the teens such as Logan or Scott or Storm, and suddenly they're all protective over Reader. That is THEIR emotional support child/pup/gremlin, pick on someone else, or better yet, face THEM-

(If you have any more questions, or if anyone else has questions, please, again, feel free to ask! I am not doing requests right now, but I can do short things like explanations, world-building, character discussions and backstories, as well as backstory and hints as to what is going with the school/campus...😊💛💕)

Thank you for asking, ❤ Anon! (Would you like a nickname?) (We have Bee or 🐝, Honeybee or 🍯🐝, or Hiveling or 🧪🐝)

#honeycomb thoughts #platonic yandere marvel #yandere platonic marvel #platonic yandere xmen #yandere x-men #platonic yandere marvel x reader #platonic yandere #platonic yandere xmen evolution au #📒mutant high🧪 au #go ❤ anon go!#or now known as #go 🐝BeaBee go!

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imnotevencatholic · 1 year ago

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cheetah au real???!? *takes notes* tell us more

GLADLY.

ok SO if u read the tags u saw "modern shapeshifters au". which yes. so picture this: you have a two-year-old shapeshifter. not the worst thing in the world, except she's a cheetah.

cheetahs are flight before fight animals! unsurprising given their speed, but this also means captivity is very stressful, because they have no "escape route". so cubs in zoos are paired with puppies (of specific temperament) to give them playmates and help them learn social behaviours. you can't pair them with cheetahs because cheetahs are solitary and often territorial. a dog is neither of those things! (very rarely, cheetahs can pair up. this is beatrice.)

so they get a literal emotional support puppy. pup does not live with cheetah permanently! they're also separated at meal times.

SO HOW DOES ALL THIS RELATE TO AVA AND LILITH. IM SO GLAD YOU ASKED.

Lilith is a three-year-old cheetah shapeshifter who is sequestered to one area of the house because the villaumbrosias suck. a stressful situation for a three-year-old that is barely a person and has never been alive before! and she's a cheetah. extra stress because she has no escapes. this causes increased aggression and anxiety. enter: ava, a precocious one-year-old who can't really talk but HAS begun walking and, lo and behold, shapeshifting. unusually early, but that's helpful. because she's a dog.

now. any shapeshifter, or family of, with certain predispositions (like young cheetahs) can register with certain agencies to be paired with others. in some cases this is pack bonding (being paired with others of the same species for social needs), or like here, it can be a cross-species pair bond. the villaumbrosias do this because lilith tried to bite a hole through the wall and nearly bit the finger off of a caretaker.

ava is a one-year-old, so there isn't much social aspect, but she is new and exploratory and very curious about lilith. she comes around for a few hours a few days a week (supervised of course), and having a fuzzy puppy toddle around you sniffing everything like it's brand new every time is great no matter who or what you are. lilith stops biting.

once they're old enough to actually hold conversations with each other, supervision dwindles, and they're mostly chasing each other in yards.

by the time lilith is seven or eight, she no longer needs ava. they see each other less. a year later, ava disappears entirely. lilith doesn't ask about it.

but you don't just forget your only childhood best friend like that.

#warrior nun #sister lilith #ava silva #lilith villaumbrosia #cheetah au #THIS GOT SO LONG. I REGRET NOTHING. YES THERE IS ADULT LIFE PLOT. FROTHING AT THE MOUTH THINKING ABOUT THIS #anon

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gaeasun · 2 years ago

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MORE TUBER

Tuber meeting the other 4-legged Torrent family member, Pete the Ottabura! Pete is more of the whole family’s pet, while Tuber is definitely Twitch’s.

More info on Pete because he’s existed in my head:

Pete is an Ottabura, which is an amazing Star Wars creacher by @sundownsquad.

While the typical Ottabura tends to be around 6 feet tall and more on the semi-aquatic side, Pete is from a area with more plains and smaller rivers. This has led to a species of Ottabura that are smaller (about 2 1/2 feet), have much shorter whiskers on the bottom of their face and longer whiskers on the sides, shorter faces, and differently shaped ears.

Pete is all black, while Tuber is mottled brown and gray.

The Torrents got Pete in the After the War AU, when after Echo gets a (yet-to-be named and developed) massiff support dog, either Fives or Hardcase looks at how much having a support animal helps Echo, and decides to get an animal for the family as a whole.

While wandering around pet shelters for a while, he finds Pete as a smol and very energetic pup, and after going “dang thats a weird looking dog” he talks to the owner and finds that Pete was brought to Coruscant as a sort of exotic pet but was given up after the owner discovered Pete needs a fishy diet. But they are known for being emotionally sensitive animals, and Hardcase really needs very little persuasion, I mean, look at that face.

Pete was already named and responsive to the name, so everyone went with it

Rex was a bit skeptical about suddenly getting a new family member, but he was no match for Pete’s nose boops.

Everyone pitched in to learn about his needs and take him out for exercise and train him

Dogma actually ended up training him mostly (because he was one of the only people who didn’t give Pete a treat just when he looked at them), and did a great job. Pete can do most things a dog can learn and more.

What Dogma didn’t teach him but he learned anyways, is Pete can tell when someone is having a nightmare and is by their side by the time they wake up for emotional support

He is also a very big lap Ottabura. But Dogma accidentally also taught him that laying on distressed people = good behavior. So sometimes Pete is also a really big weighted blanket that gives concerned boops.

#tuber the tooka #pete the ottabura #clone trooper dogma

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jihyocentric · 2 years ago

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every ask u answer abt puppy!hyo is just …chefs kiss 🤌🏼. i love that au so much theyre jus a bunch of (adorable) losers :’)). does puppy!hyo go to the vet? if so, is she the type of pup to be scared of going or would she not care? does she need nayeon or jeong to be there with her for emotional support? does hyo have any other funny dog like characteristics? (for example the pup cups and the hidden pills in food) i love all ur works and jus everything abt ur page in general.

i should be sleeping rn but i can't fall asleep so absolutely let's talk about the most precious pup!

3mix is really the best! cutest losers ever. in pup hyo specifically i love how jihyo is 2yeon's baby... like she's so so precious to them. it doesn't matter that she's a possessive pup, that she doesn't let nayeon work at home or that she eats half of their food when they have a meal together. all of those things can and will be forgiven simply because she's cute and they love her!

i think she goes to a doctor that's specialized in hybrids... so kind of a regular doctor, but she has to get checked often because her body works differently than regular humans.

i'd say she's hypersensitive. loud sounds can make her stressed and hurt her ears (except for nayeon's scandalous laugh, hyo loves it), she's clumsy so she often gets bruised and hurts her tail, and she might have ruts when she's not supposed to, so they give her some pills to control it — which nayeon has to hide in her food of course, or else jihyo won't take them at all.

and yes she's scared 😭 i'd say she's anxious about what the doctor will say. she might think she has a serious disease or something when really she only has a few scratches that need to be taken care of! and i totally see 2yeon pampering her when they notice she's scared 🥺 she really needs their reassurance :(

i'd say that she has a strong pup personality but she's a lazy puppy unless she's at the park. at home she's really just a lapdog who wants to be with nayeon and jeongyeon all the time. she can't always be with jeongyeon bc they don't live together yet, but when she can she will NOT leave jeongyeon's side. unless nayeon wants her attention! oh, and she loves to bite them. playfully of course! she loves belly rubs too, and she gets LOTS of it!

i like to think that hyo is hesitant to play with dog toys 😭 like if nayeon or jeongyeon give her a ball she'll tell them she's not playing with it because she's not "that type" of dog... but if 2yeon throw it somewhere she'll run to catch it :(( she's really silly and they love her lots!

also whenever nayeon drops her at jeongyeon's, she'll spend the entire time following jeongyeon around, asking her "what are you doing" and jeongyeon thinks it's both annyoing and adorable. jihyo doesn't know she might be annoying, she's just genuinely curious and it's what makes jeongyeon melt the most :(

lastly, have you heard about that "liquid cat" thing? i think jihyo is a liquid pup. she doesn't mind being handled by 2yeon at all, it's like she doesn't even notice she's being carried sometimes. if she falls asleep on the couch, nayeon takes her back to bed and she doesn't feel a thing. she will only wake up with a lot of persistence, really.

ooh and when she sleeps and dreams about things she likes, her tail wags! nayeon can always tell when she's dreaming 🥺 her face looks peaceful but her tail wags and her ears twitch!

that's the pup hyo of the day! thank you for passing by! i think i can go to sleep now hehe

#anon #asks #puppy!hyo

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batmanschmatman · 2 years ago

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Babe Heffron - Tanuki/Raccoon Dog

Like most dogs, or dog adjacent critters, raccoon dog souls are loyal guys, and if you manage to befriend one, you’ve got a friend for life. That said, they don’t live in massive packs, and thus they’re not the sort that’s really looking for a huge social circle or always super welcoming to newcomers. Babe is a good guy and a good friend, but he’s also a little reserved, giving both Julian and Web a hard time for not being immediately up to speed with the rest of the guys. He’s open to new friendships - like with Bill! - but only with the sort of people who will put the same amount of effort and care into it that he will. Otherwise, he’s kind of happy being an unobtrusive member of the group, a good dude, but not the life of the party or absolutely everyone’s best friend for life.

Raccoon dogs are major team players. Both parents help look after pups and bring back food for the family, and raccoon dogs raising pups solo see a high mortality rate. Babe gets a lot out of supporting the group, and in turn, is supported by them. The bond he shares with his friends is the most important thing to him over status or power, meaning he’s happy to help where he can, but not really looking to establish himself as a leader or a person with any kind of authority.

Raccoon dogs have been introduced in a variety of areas outside their natural territory and have thrived. They’re omnivorous and pretty hardy creatures, who rarely threaten the prey of other predators, meaning they’re pretty unobtrusive. Babe fits right in with the Toccoa guys and seems to have a good handle on how to integrate himself into a group without making waves or calling too much attention to himself. He’s just happy to be there and do his part where he can. He’s also clearly suspicious when Bill first talks to him, but isn’t ready to throw down with him or clearly expecting a fight so much as just being surprised and a little wary. He’s also not one of the worst culprits in picking on Web when he comes back to the company. In most ways that count, Babe’s a pretty easy going guy, with the occasional moments of barking at the people who annoy him.

Raccoon dogs are so attuned to their families needs and wants, and Babe is a pretty observant and perceptive guy when it comes to his social group. While everyone else is kind of ignoring Buck’s long term emotional breakdown, Babe’s the one we hear starting to raise questions on if he’s really doing okay. He also seems to realize how badly Gene is actually struggling during Bastogne, trying to include him in conversation and offering him food.

We’ve called Babe’s daemon Passyunk (called Shunkie) after a neighborhood in Philly. I’ve often wondered how aware folks actually are of what species their daemon has settled specifically when it’s something unusual or foreign to their part of the world, so we often joke that she and Babe are a little like idk, I guess I’m some sort of weird dog when asked about it.

( HBO War Daemon AU Masterlist )

#hbowar #hbo war #band of brothers #babe heffron #edward heffron #only the nuns call him edward #daemon au

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boneasin · 2 years ago

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Apologies for posting so many au posts but ik imma forget em or not write about em unless their in theses posts sdhsh

ANYWAYS I got 2 aus for ya'll

Au where Crunchy Chip Cookie time travels and adopts Dark Cacao after finding him having a mental breakdown over his emotional support Cream Wolf dying as a pup. He was alone and didn't have parents bc his parents abandoned him and he was mostly taken care of by all the ppl, switching from caretakers often due to being afraid of people due to the often abandonment and trust issues.

Au number 2 is where Dark Cacao was thrown off the walls of the citadel into the licorice sea and managed to survive but a bit of the licorice sea had fused with his body making his body darker than normal, now having a darker dough color and having a cyan stripe in his hair and cyan eyes along with his mouth being cyan too. He feels the need to rejoin the sea, to become whole with it, and often has nightmares about rejoining it. He fears that those thoughts might take control one day so he often stays away from the sea unless it is extremely needed that he comes to quell it, much to his own shame.

#dark cacao #dark cacao crk #crunchy chip #crunchy chip crk

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littlemisspascal · 11 months ago

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Rockford & Roan Pt. 5

Pairing: Tim Rockford x Female Reader/OFC ‘Roan’

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: There’s no escape. You’re prey in a spider’s web.

Rating: T. Heed the warnings y'all!

Warnings: Language, Reader has a dog, Reader has military background, Superpower AU, They Were Roommates AU, self-esteem issues, soulmates-ish, original characters, worldbuilding, references of dead bodies + suicide, police, trauma, ptsd flashback including non-con touching, fear

- Reader has no first name and no physical traits described in detail except for being shorter than Rockford. Reader is mentioned to have hair

Author Note: Thank you always for the kind support💗

Special thanks to @beecastle for beta reading and encouraging me 💜💜💜

Series Masterlist

The Body

The warehouse is bone-chilling.

It’s your first observation when you follow Rockford inside, body temperature dropping as the frozen air slices through your jacket like the blade of a knife. The windows are all busted, jagged shards of glass litter the grimy concrete floor beneath your feet. Various metallic beams covered in rust criss-cross overhead. It’s a hauntingly eerie place, even with the multitude of policemen and CSIs meandering about.

And there, in the center of it all, a woman lies dead wearing a bright yellow duffle coat and matching yellow rain boots.

You inhale a sharp breath upon seeing her. Banjo whines softly, laying down with his head on his paws, and your hand fidgets with the urge to pet him, empathy twinging in response to his fear.

“Victim is Carmin Carrillo, thirty-eight years old from Toven with a gift of claw extension according to her driver license,” Inspector Dorrance informs you and Rockford, his voice a low rumble as he recites information from his pocket notebook. “We’re in the process now of determining contact details. Couple of kids screwing around found her, but it doesn't look like she’s been here long. Suicide by cyanide ingestion, just like the others.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Rockford mutters under his breath, snapping on a spare pair of latex gloves Dorrance provides.

Your match wastes no time in striding forward to carefully analyze the body, staring down for a long beat at her hands stained scarlet with blood. He moves onto her coat next without saying a word, crouching down and running a gloved hand over the yellow material, flexing his fingers afterwards almost clinically. An umbrella is pulled out from the coat pocket, scrutinized by his brown eyes as if it were an explosive device. He actually reminds you a bit of bomb-sniffer dogs at airports and train stations, unflinchingly calm and dedicated to their task at hand.

Unlike the canines who usually sit upon making a discovery though, Rockford stands to full height and swivels around. “Miss Roan, what do you feel?”

“From who?” you ask with a quick, confused look over at Dorrance. The inspector merely crosses his arms over his chest with a quiet sigh, radiating something akin to resignation.

“Our victim here,” Rockford says.

Your eyebrows lift so high up your forehead you’re surprised they don’t fly off. What Rockford’s suggesting—feeling the emotions of the dead—is a delicate process involving empathic echoes. Emotional imprints left behind in the wake of traumatic events which empaths can tap into and experience for themselves. During your service, you’d been instructed to focus your mind-gift on the living souls rather than the deceased, but that didn’t stop the echoes from setting off a series of ominous clicks in your eardrums like a Geiger counter when you brushed too close.

“If it’ll solve this case faster, go ahead,” Dorrance says, noticing your hesitation. He eyes Banjo, a note of firmness slipping into his tone when he adds, “But the pup stays back.”

You glance over at Rockford, finding him rapidly scrolling on his phone, oblivious beyond the screen. “O-okay,” you reply, and hand over Banjo’s leash in exchange for your own pair of latex gloves.

The concrete is cold under your knees as you kneel beside the body. Carmin’s lying on her left side with her eyes closed, raven locks framing her head, long and frizzy. She could almost be mistaken for sleeping, if not for her unnatural stillness and the dry blood coating her hands.

Dorrance had mentioned the victim left behind a note. What he’d failed to say was that she’d cut the message into her own palm with her fingernails—no, with her claws.

Naranja.

The Spanish word for orange. You mouth it to yourself, baffled. Was it a side effect of the cyanide resulting in the self-mutilation or is there another, more meaningful reason for its existence? It’s gruesome either way.

Rockford’s leather shoes shuffle out of the corner of your eye, reminding you of the task at hand. Empathic echo. Right. Your match is counting on you to be helpful. You mustn’t let him down.

You stretch out your empathy, the emotions of those in the room overlapping and ricocheting off of one another like rain pattering on a metal roof, but they aren’t what you’re searching for. Focus. You sidestep them, feeling your mind-gift sharpen, scraping along the walls, the floors, no corner left unchecked. Focus.

A distinct clicking sound sends a little spark down your spine, growing in frequency as your empathy zeroes in further, and you have no idea what you’re engaging with, but it’s–

The change from individual clicks to a shrill whine is explosive, silencing all other sounds, vision whiting out as if a spotlight’s been aimed directly at your eyes.

Fear starts pooling in your gut, slow at first, ignorable. But it keeps building, bubbling up your throat, wrapping around your heart. The desire to scream burns worse than acid. Can’t. Your mouth is sewn shut. Muscles paralyzed. Everything’s on fire. There’s no escape. You’re prey in a spider’s web.

Trapped. Poisoned. Dying.

You hear it then. Somewhere as close as it is far away, muffled and distorted by time—the quiet hiss of laughter.

Shuddering, it reminds you of—

Oh, dear God no.

“Miss Roan?”

Hands tear at your clothes, grimy fingers grazing skin as a heavy weight pins you to the ground. Acrid breath floods your nostrils. And lust, so much vile, thirsting lust it sours your stomach, gagging at the deluge. Get off, you think hysterically, get off get off get off.

“Miss Roan!”

You blink, sucking in a shaky lungful of air. You’re in the warehouse still, on the floor, but you’d been moved away from Carmin several feet. How long were you ensnared by the echo? By the…rest of it? You blink again, struggling to focus. Rockford’s crouched in front of you, brown eyes full of concern.

“It’s alright, Roan. You’re okay.”

His hand squeezes your shoulder, and it grounds you back in reality the same way an asteroid crashes to the earth, sudden and violent. Uncaring of the destruction upon impact.

You flinch, and there’s a collective groan from the entire room’s occupants as they press their hands to their heads, teeth gritting and eyes scrunching. Even Banjo’s afflicted, pawing helplessly at his ears.

It’s your fault they’re in pain. Empathy taking root in their minds, holding them hostage, applying pressure until it hurts. You force yourself to take another breath, trying to reign it in, box it up, but it’s not–it won’t–fuck, what the hell is wrong with you?

“Kez.” Rockford’s gaze remains steadily locked with yours, expressing nothing, an impenetrable mask, though his voice is a little rougher than normal. “Take her outside.”

“Tim,” Dorrance starts.

“Now, Keziah,” Rockford cuts him off, not quite snapping but close enough.

Too rattled to speak, you feel like you’re watching yourself be pulled clumsily onto your feet by Rockford and passed over to Dorrance. The inspector holds onto Banjo’s leash in one hand and your bicep in the other, leading you both towards the rear exit of the warehouse, away from the lights and cameras still swarming at the front.

Even while functioning on autopilot, it’s hard to ignore the stares of the CSIs, their silent judgment palpable even without your triggered mind-gift achingly aware of their distrustfulness like individual bug bites. It’s even harder to ignore how Rockford’s emotions have never felt so distant from your reach before, guarded and indecipherable. A door once freely open now barred shut.

And it’s funny, you think, how someone who’s the most important person in your life can so suddenly change into an unrecognizable stranger in a mere matter of minutes. As if you never really knew them at all.

My fault. I caused this.

It’s all so fucking hysterical.

The Discussion

Inspector Dorrance guides you to a bench outside, releasing his hold once you sink down heavily. Banjo hops up on the seat next to you, snuffling at your jacket sleeve before curling closer, and the man seems to realize the dog is trained enough to remain put, letting go of the leash so it hangs limply next to your leg.

You try again to wrestle control of your empathy, but it continues slipping free and bleeding out into the atmosphere, drawn to the laid-back stillness of Dorrance’s mood. Unshaken by your episode. Unbothered by your nearness.

Just…clockwork calm.

Maybe it’s due to his training that he keeps a cool head, or maybe the sucker he digs free from his inner suit pocket is infused with some kind of mood-numbing ingredient. Either way, after unwrapping the candy, you barely catch a glimpse of its bright green coloring before it’s shoved into his mouth, rolled around on his tongue.

Dorrance looks over across the wharf, out at the docked boats and to the nightly horizon beyond. You follow his gaze, absently stroking a hand over Banjo’s ears, the mutt’s affection a low hum taking some of the sting out of your mind-gift, and there’s a moment where the whole world feels hushed.

The moon hangs above the sea, cascading streaks of silver light upon the waves. Shining brightly even in the darkest of hours. A rebel against the encroaching, ravenous shadows.

“I used to smoke like a damn chimney. My boyfriend hated it,” Dorrance says, out of nowhere. He holds the sucker’s stick between his fingertips, gesticulating as he talks. “It was Tim’s idea, substituting candy for cigarettes. Loathed the suggestion at first, thought he was taking the piss out of me, but now…” He shrugs, wedges the sucker back into the corner of his scarred mouth.

You stare at him, the details of his face highlighted by the moon. Standing out as a beacon in the void. He shouldn’t be here–there’s a dead body literally right behind you, far more important than your pathetic issues–but he shows no signs of impatience, outward or internal. No blame either, but its absence doesn’t loosen the weight on your chest. Doesn’t mean you didn’t royally fuck everything up.

Banjo presses impossibly closer, wet nose against your wrist disrupting your spiraling thoughts.

“Tim Rockford is a very perceptive man, Miss Roan,” Dorrance says, blunt and to the point now. Your eyes snap back to him, subconsciously sitting up straighter in response to the tone shift. “But even he has his blind spots. Things—and people—he takes for granted, expecting them to do whatever he wants them to regardless of the consequences. Especially when there’s a case to be solved. Do yourself a favor and don't let yourself become one. Talk to him, alright?”

When Rockford had said–

You belong anywhere I am.

We’re stuck with each other.

–he’d meant every word.

At the time, at least. Before your lapse of self-control proved your empathy can’t be trusted under pressure, not even with your match within close reach. You used to face down enemies bigger than mountains, teeth bared and blood under your fingernails. You used to be fearless.

You’re not that person anymore. And you’re not who Rockford deserves as his match either.

You need to be better. You have to be.

“...Alright,” you repeat quietly, thinking back to the icy certainty you’d felt back at the apartment. How you’d known there was another side of your match you’d never encountered before. And this is it, so it would seem, a side passionately dedicated to his work that shouldn’t have to be burdened with your mistakes and triggers. “I–I’m sorry for losing control the way I did. It shouldn’t’ve happened. It was unprofessional and–”

“At ease, soldier.” It should be irritating to hear, a reminder of a life you’re no longer living, but the words strike a chord deep within, shoulders reflexively dropping. “Headaches are common amongst the force, each of us trying to understand why people do the things they do.”

A burning sensation lingers in the back of your throat. Hand trembling even as it runs through Banjo’s fur. “She was scared. Carmin, I mean. Absolutely terrified during her final moments. And I swear…I know how this sounds, but I swear, inspector, I heard somebody laughing at her. She wasn’t alone.”

Dorrance’s eyes widen slightly at that, and you can feel the ticking of his mind speeding up, realization striking. “Fuck,” he breathes, half turning to glare back at the warehouse as if he could see through to the interior. His jaw clenches so harshly around the candy stick you’re surprised it doesn’t cut in half. “Fuck, Tim’s been right all along, hasn’t he? These suicides—somebody’s been pulling the strings. But how? Why?”

You don’t have the answers he wants. You’re not Rockford. Can’t produce calculations and explanations out of the tiniest of observations. The only thing you can do is offer Dorrance’s own advice back to the man.

“Talk to Rockford,” you say, because he’s the best chance of making sense out of any of this bloody mess. And together, Dorrance and him will get Carmin and the other victims the justice they deserve. “Tell him what I felt.”

Dorrance is silent for a moment, just watching your face, and to his credit he doesn’t ask why you don’t tell Rockford yourself, doesn’t dig his fingers into the proverbial wound you’re struggling to stitch back up. It hurts to wonder what you must look like in his eyes, fidgety and unstable. A far cry from the woman he met earlier.

“I will,” he finally nods. “Take your time out here. Come in when you’re ready.”

And then he’s walking past you, turning his back on the moonlight and returning to the warehouse of metal and death. Not once does the steady tempo of his mind falter.

You’re not sure if you’re more comforted by his strict self-control or envious of it.

You’re not sure of much right now, actually.

The Woman

Time has a strange way of moving when you’re lost in your thoughts. Could be five minutes you sit there, could be forty. You don’t know, don’t care much either—it’s just you, the moon, and Banjo.

The little mutt nudges at your hand when it’s still too long, and then when that doesn’t achieve the ear-scratches he craves he goes one step further and stands with his two front paws on top of your thigh. He looks at you squarely in the eye. You stare back.

“I was back there for a moment,” you tell him, a hollow, emptiness in your voice. “In camp during the raid when that man…when he tried to…” You take a slow, trembling breath, swallowing harshly against the lump in your throat. “Well, you don’t need to hear about that. We’ve all got our bad days, yeah? Just the way the cards are dealt.”

Banjo sneezes. Maybe that’s all it is, but part of you like to think he’s agreeing bad days are a total pain in the ass.

“Finding you was a good day though.” You boop him on the nose. “One of my very best.”

Banjo’s tail starts to wag, but then his ears perk, hearing something. He turns immediately, a low warning growl building in his chest. And that’s the thing about your scrappy dog—he’s a friendly, easily pleased ball of fur at his core. He doesn’t growl at anything or anyone unless there’s a damn good reason to.

And that’s when you feel it.

A shard of curiosity deliberately pricks your mind-gift, sparkling and bright. Attention-seeking. It doesn’t stem from the direction of the warehouse, but closer. Alarmingly so.

You turn your head so fast your neck aches, squinting against the darkness.

There, several feet in front of you, a woman stands on the concrete dropoff separating land from water. She waves when she catches your wide-eyed gaze, a cheeky gesture, curiosity morphing into satisfaction. A glimmering diamond which might have mesmerized your mind-gift if not for its sharp edges promising a painful cut. Whoever this stranger is, not only has she snuck up on the backside of a crime scene, she’s also been trained to fend off empaths.

Alarm bells ring loudly in your mind. You’re torn between shouting for backup–if anyone will even listen to you–and going down there and confronting her yourself. The woman stares you down, practically daring you to make a choice.

It’s Banjo who makes your decision for you. He leaps off the bench before you can even think of grabbing him or the leash. The second his paws connect with the ground he’s off like a rocket with his sight set on the woman, ignoring your cry of his name as you chase after him.

The distance to the dropoff is short, but with the amount of panic pumping through your nervous system it might as well be miles. You’ve got to catch Banjo, stop him before he causes harm. Growling is a rarity for him. Outright charging at somebody though? It’s as if he’s been possessed or replaced with an entirely different dog.

You don’t think things can get any worse.

The woman falls backwards over the edge into the water.

What the–

Banjo doesn’t stop, committed to his hunt, and jumps after her.

FUCK.

If your heartbeat wasn’t throbbing in your ears, maybe you would’ve heard the lack of splashing after their dives.

As it is, you make the leap, your little mutt dog the only thing on your mind. Your body instinctively braces for the cold water to hit, but it never comes. You just keep falling and falling, the colors of your vision warping into a blurry haze.

Of course, you think, mentally kicking and cursing yourself for forgetting every lesson instilled in you during recruit training, including the most important one of all. Determine the enemy’s gift before engaging. Of fucking course she had to be a portal maker.

When reality finally settles again, you find yourself rolling across a wooden tile floor, stopping just before your head collides with the edge of a leather sofa. For a second you merely lie there, taking stock of your body, the aches from your limbs of being unceremoniously dropped out of the portal.

A familiar bark has you sitting up in a rush. You spot the woman first, dark haired and stylishly dressed. She’s reclining comfortably in a plush chair next to a marble fireplace with a massive piece of artwork worthy of being displayed in the Louvre hanging above. You’re in someone’s house, you realize, another stone of dread dropping into your stomach. The woman smiles at you, perfectly pleasant, but her glittering amusement makes you grit your teeth in irritation.

Banjo barks again, yanking your attention to the other half of the room where the largest book case you’ve ever seen takes up almost an entire wall. He isn’t growling anymore, but his hackles remain raised, tail held stiff. Once you notice the man crouched in front of Banjo, offering his hand for the dog to smell, you cannot believe what you’re seeing.

Because the man he…

Brown eyes lift over Banjo’s figure to lock with yours, a dimpled smile curling on a mouth outlined in dark, bristly hair.

The man has Rockford’s face. Identical to the very last detail.

“So, you’re the unfortunate soul who matched with my brother.” He stands to full height, dressed in formal wear with an untied floral robe swishing with every movement. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you face to face, Miss Roan. You and I have got quite a lot to talk about.”

#tim rockford #tim rockford x reader #tim rockford x you #tim rockford fanfiction #tim rockford x ofc #my fic #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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