#k 9 barks

[countdogulous]

"you're still crying from ricky being the one to give constance her microphone in sugar cloud???"

THE FACT THAT THE OTHER VOICELESS CHARACTER GIVES HER THE ABILITY TO TRULY EXPRESS THE WILD CHILD THAT'S IN HER HEAD JUST LIKE HE WAS ABLE TO GOT TO ME OKAY???????

[davidjenkins]

BIGOTE DÍAZ I AM YOUR NUMBER ONE FAN

[leonakingscholarship]

THE SEBEK DORM SSR OH MY GOD

I AM NOT LOOKING I SWEAR RARARARRARARARARRARARARARRAR

[dreaming-medium]

Stray Kids Kinktober Day 9

Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist

A/B/O - Lee Know

Word Count: 11.1 K

Summary: It’s not your fault the Orange Needle Lily only grows in a protected part of the forest. While trying to gather ingredients, you’re confronted by a pack desperate for a healer to aid their injured pack member.

—————————————————————————

Running, you were running. Sweat is pouring down your back and the sides of your face. But, there’s no time to stop and wipe it off. 

Trees whipped past you with every step, branches caught on your clothes and tore small rips in the fabric, some leaving small slices in your skin. 

But that was the least of your worries right now. 

You knew you shouldn’t have been here. You knew.

How else were you going to get the ingredients you need? The Orange Needle Lily only grew in a remote area of the Enchanted Forest. 

A very well protected area of the Enchanted Forest. 

Normally, when you made these trips, you were able to sneak in, pick a large bundle of lilies and then slip out unnoticed. 

But from the rain yesterday, the ground was still damp, so you slipped and fell and made one of the loudest noises of your life. 

Every single nerve in your body lit up with fear the second it happened. Growls and howls sounded in the distance. 

So, you took off. 

The snarls have only gotten louder the farther you run from the original area. 

Everyone in the Kingdom knew to stay away from that area of the Enchanted Forest. The wolf pack that lives there has made their mark very clearly. Do not enter their land. 

And you fucked up.

Loud, heavy, galloping thuds gain on you. 

Your eyes scan the woods wildly to search for any sign of familiarity. Are you even running the right way back to your village?

A log is in your way so you hurdle over the top of it. 

You need to keep going. 

Run, run, run. Keep running. Don’t look back. If you look back for even a second you’re dead meat. 

A bone chilling bark comes from right behind you, two over snarls respond to it. 

Your village is so close, you can smell the fresh bread being baked. 

A dark figure jumps out in front of you and cuts off your path. 

You scream and backpedal to get away from its gleaming yellow eyes. 

When you turn around you see another dark figure already behind you. 

Your mouth opens and closes a few times, pleas for your life are stuck in your mouth. 

When the dark figures get closer, you realize they’re two enormous wolves. Of course the pack was chasing you. Of fucking course. 

Faster and faster your heart begins to beat. You gulp, hands clutching at your skirts to keep them hiked up. 

There’s two wolves encroaching closer and closer. Didn’t you hear three seats of snarls?

“Please,” you beg, your throat getting tighter and tighter with unshed tears of fear. “I was only trying to collect Orange Needle Lilies, look.”

To prove your point, you turn to reach into the pouch that’s hanging around your body. 

The wolf in front of you lets out a bone chilling bark. You yelp in response, hands flying up away from your body to show you mean no harm. 

“I am so sorry,” you plead, closing your eyes in fear and shrinking in on yourself. “I am a healer!”

With shaky knees, you take a step backwards and the wolf behind you growls. 

There’s a long series of snaps and a whoosh to your left. Your head snaps over to look but the wolves keep their eyes on you like prey. 

“You are a healer?” A male voice asks from behind a tree. 

“Yes! I am from Beckinsale. Please, I mean you no harm.” Tears form in the corners of your eyes. “Orange Needle Lilies only grow within your lands. Please, I mean you no harm. I need them for a tonic.”

From behind a tree, a man with jet black hair and fair skin steps out. He’s only wearing tattered shorts on his muscular body. Dark brown eyes study you carefully. 

“How high is your skill?” He asks with a raised brow. 

“Very,” you answer quickly. “I am the village healer. All ailments are brought to me.”

He thinks for a moment, keeping his eyes trained on you. “Can you cure infections?”

“Yes, if I have the proper ingredients.”

Why is he asking?

Suddenly, the larger of the two wolves barks at the man and growls after. 

“Easy, Changbin,” the man says. “She can heal Minho.”

The other wolf huffs, rolling its amber eyes. 

“You have an injury among you?” Your hands grab at the strap of your pouch nervously. 

“Aye, we believe it to be an infection.” He shuffles a bit. “Do you think you could take a look?”

A loud huff comes from behind you.

“What other option do we have?” The man grits out between his teeth to the wolf. 

The wolf snorts once more.

The man stares directly into your eyes, “You are coming with us. And you’re going to heal our packmate.”

Chills rip down your body, danger is licking at the back of your neck. Your eyebrows pinch together and you swallow nervously.

“Are you going to kill me?” you whisper meagerly. 

The man laughs, “We will see once our friend is healed, won’t we, Omega?”

Your jaw clenches with fear at the mention of your secondary gender. 

Orange Needle Lilies were used for a specific purpose: scent blockers. Just this morning you had run out of your tonic without realizing your supply of the flower had run out. 

The trip was necessary if you had hoped to block your scent at all. 

But with the small amount of the blocker tonic and the sheer volume of sweat dripping down your body, there was no way you were going to be able to block your scent. Especially not from a wolf pack. 

Lycans’ sense of smell were more powerful than humans. It’s most likely that even if you had put on the full amount of blocker, they would still be able to pick up on your scent.

“Come on, then,” the man says to you and there’s a sharp nudge at your back. One of the wolves was pushing you forward with his snout.

------------------------------------------

The man, who you now know is named Seungmin, walks on your left. The wolf known as Changbin is on your right, and Seungmin told you that the other wolf’s name is Hyunjin.

Neither of you have said a word since then, he just continues to lead you through the Enchanted Forest away from your village.

“You must have a death wish. An omega prancing into a pack’s known territory all by herself.” Seungmin breaks the silence.

“I told you it is the only place the Orange Needle Lily grows,” you murmur, clutching your satchel closer to your body.

“And it is worth your life?”

You answer without hesitating. “Aye.” The next sentence comes out quieter. “A scent blocking tonic saves the life of an unmarked omega.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the three sets of eyes shift to side-eye you. You keep your eyes forward and keep walking. 

Eventually, you make it to a small clearing in the woods. Four different hut-like houses sat in a semi-circle. There was a garden off to the side with fresh fruits and vegetables, tables and a spit for cooking over.

“Seungmin!” A voice called over. It sent chills down your spine. Nervously, you look over to see a larger man stalking towards you.

Golden eyes trained on you with an overprotective glint to them. The wind carries past him and his scent wraps around your mind.

Pine and bergamot floods your system. Alpha . He is a pure-blood alpha. 

You can’t hold his eye contact, you immediately look down at your shoes in the dirt. Instincts take over and you curl in on yourself in his overbearing presence.

“Who is this?” He growls when he gets closer to you.

“A healer.”

“You brought a stranger into our den?”

“I brought a healer to heal Minho.”

So many scents of different wolves wrap around your brain and overwhelm your senses. Alphas and betas, all of them, but no omegas. At least, none that you’re able to smell.

“She is not getting near Minho.”

“Chan, he is going to die if we do not have him healed!” Seungmin barks back at his alpha.

The pheromones that pour out of them make your skin crawl. Seungmin is only a beta, and yet he is standing up to his alpha so confidently.

He stands nose to nose with Chan, keeping his eye contact. Chan bares his teeth.

The same crackling and whooshing noise comes from behind you.

“Chan, someone needs to heal him. Our remedies are not working.” Changbin says to him.

Chan doesn’t break eye contact with Seungmin, but Seungmin doesn’t back down either.

“He will pull through, we do not need a healer.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and keep your eyes on the dirt. Your voice comes out weak. “What are you using on his wound?”

Chan’s head snaps over to you. “It does not matter to you.”

“Your protective nature will be the death of him!” Seungmin hisses. “Let her heal him before we all lose him.”

Chan bristles and snarls at Seungmin, but he doesn’t flinch away, he stands firm in his stance.

“We are crushing up Snow Weed and laying the paste on the wound.” Hyunjin answers you finally. 

You look up at the beta with alarmed eyes. “That will only create a cover over the wound, you are trapping the infection inside his system with no exit!”

Alarmed, you look over at Chan, who is eyeing you closely. “If there truly is an infection, your packmate is in dire need of care. Please, let me heal him. I mean you all no harm.”

The alpha stares at you. Ignoring your instincts, you hold his searing eye contact.

“Chan,” Seungmin draws his attention. Chan doesn’t look away from you but turns his chin slightly towards Seungmin to show he’s listening. “It is our only option.”

The alpha thinks for a long moment before he speaks. “You will heal him, then you will leave.”

“Aye, as you wish.”

“If you harm a hair on my packmate’s head, we will kill you, understood?”

You gulp. “Aye, understood.”

He eyes you closely for four more heartbeats. “Come then, omega.”

------------------------------------------

You could smell the infection before you saw it; you were also able to hear the sound of shallow, wheeze-like breathing the moment you stepped foot inside the hut.

A man lay on a bed in the back of the hut, a blanket covering him. A damp towel sat on his forehead to try and keep him cool. His eyes were squinted shut in pain, mouth open to intake each pathetic pant and gasp for air.

A thick layer of sweat covered his flushed face.

When you rounded the corner and took another step towards him, another person stepped in front of you with bared teeth. A beta– and a protective one at that. 

“She is here to heal Minho, Jisung. Back off.” Seungmin called out quickly.  

Jisung’s jaw clenches and he hesitates for a moment before taking a step away from you. 

Quickly, you walk over to the edge of the bed. You go to reach for the blankets, but you stop your hands over the top. 

You turn around and look at Chan, at the Alpha of the pack. “May I?”

His gaze softens for a moment at your sign of respect. Chan nods and you turn back, slowly peeling back the covers. 

Minho’s eyes squint tighter and he winces in pain. 

The gauze wrapped around his stomach is already soaked through with pus and blood. 

Your heart drops to your gut and you place your satchel of healing ingredients on the bed next to him. 

“I’m going to cut the gauze off,” you say out loud to the room before picking up a small dagger. 

The air thickens in the room as your fingers curl around the weapon. Gingerly, you reach forward and slice through the soaked bandages. 

Minho groans in pain and squirms a bit, he’s awake, but obviously feverish. Placing your hand on his cheek, it’s like you put your hands over a fire, he’s burning up. 

Once the gauze is off a gasp catches in your throat. Yes, the wound is covered in crushed Snow Weed, but the infection is leaking out all around it. 

The skin surrounding the wound is purple and angry. How has he survived this long?

“What happened to make him this way?” You asked, inspecting the wound. 

“Arrow wound,” Jisung answers quickly. “He told no one about it until he suddenly collapsed in pain days later. The infection had already taken root by that time.”

You look up at his face, twisted in pain. So, he’s a stubborn bastard. 

“I am going to need a fresh pale of water and a clean rag. Do any of you know of the Dusk Tulip?”

When you receive no response, you turn around and look over your shoulder. Five lycans stare back at you blankly. 

“Do any of you know what a Tulip looks like?”

Hyunjin nods. You zero in on him. “It is a Tulip that grows at the base of Maple trees. Dark purple in color. I need as many as you can get me.”

Hyunjin nods and immediately turns around to sprint out of the shack. 

Jisung moves quickly as well, gathering fresh water and a rag for you. 

You move briskly, dipping the rag in the cold water and ringing out the excess. 

“Hail, Minho,” you say to him. He doesn’t acknowledge you, but you know he can hear you. “My name is Y/N, I am the village healer for Beckinsale. And I apologize, this is not going to feel pleasant at all.”

Taking a deep breath, you bring the cloth down to wipe away the Snow Weed coating and the infection that’s seeping out. 

Minho grunts and tenses up. 

With great care, you clean his wound. The coolness of the water brings a slight bit of relief to his feverish skin. 

“Jisung,” you say without looking over at him. “Can you fetch a second pail of water, please?”

Wordlessly, he walks away to grab it. 

Chan has not left the corner of the room, he watches you work on Minho wordlessly. His amber gaze scrutinizes every single move you make. 

With the wound cleaned off, you watch as the outside edges go from purple to a deep red. You’re giving the wound a few moments to breathe before taking the next step. 

The pail of fresh water is placed next to you. You thank Jisung and dip the new, clean rag into it. 

You take the sweat covered rag off Minho’s forehead and begin to dab away at his flushed skin. His breathing is extremely labored and hot against your bare arm. 

You let your eyes roam over his face. Even pulled in pain, he’s absolutely gorgeous.

The rag with cold water runs all over his face. He keens and leans into it, eyes still closed. Your fingers push his hair off his forehead. 

“Chan,” you address the alpha. “You may need to hold him down as I draw the infection out.”

“It will hurt?”

You bite your lip and look down at Minho’s pained face. “Aye, very much so.”

Chan’s boots thud against the wooden floor as he approaches the bed.

“Apologies, Minho. Please know my intentions are not ill.”

Reluctantly, you move away from Minho’s side after placing the fresh, water soaked rag on his forehead. 

Chan stands over Minho, hands hovering over his shoulders, ready to grab him. 

You move your palms to slightly waver over the wound. Slowly, your eyes shut and you concentrate on the energy within you. 

Your hands begin to heat up and emanate a soft, yellow glow. 

Within a few seconds, Minho begins to groan in pain. Since your eyes are shut, you’re not able to look at his face and see the way he writhes in anguish. 

Chan grabs his shoulders tightly and keeps him down on the bed. 

The heat from your palm draws out the infection slowly. With each passing second, Minho’s grunts and growls grow louder and deeper. 

“How long will this take?” Chan asks through gritted teeth. 

“Only a few more moments, apologies. The infection was in his system for days.”

Since Minho is so lost in the throes of his mind, he doesn’t fight back nearly as much as you thought he would. Either that, or his pain tolerance is something out of this world. 

Sweat drips down your face from concentration. 

Once you’re sure the entire infection is clear from his system, you drop the spell and take a deep breath. Your eyes open and you look down at the wound. 

It looks entirely clean. 

Hyunjin comes barreling through the door before you can say anything. 

Both you and Chan’s heads whip around.

“Are these correct?” He holds out a bushel full of Dusk Tulips. 

“Aye,” you say, relieved, and take them from him. “Perfect. I just need to stitch the wound closed first before I can use these. Thank you.”

Pulling out a needle and thread, you get everything ready to suture the wound shut. 

“We did not shut the wound previously because we thought the Snow Weed took away infection,” Seungmin says from behind you. 

“Snow Weed creates an impenetrable covering for wounds. You should use it for when large chunks of skin are missing and cannot be sewn shut.” The thread goes through the eye of the needle. “It is still a smart move to put Snow Weed over a wound, do not misinterpret my words.

“In the case of infection, you need to let it come out of the wound, you were mistakenly keeping it in.”

Chan huffs and takes a few steps away from the bed now that he doesn’t need to hold Minho down. 

Minho’s face seems to have relaxed considerably. His eyebrows are no longer pinched together, lips parted in a sleeping manner. 

“Just a few more moments, Minho. This will not hurt.” You whisper down to him before making the first stitch. 

He doesn’t even flinch. But you were also known for being extremely gentle when it came to sutures. 

You stick a hand full of Dusk Tulip petals in your mouth and start grinding them between your teeth. Spitting the mass in your hand, you start to press the paste down on the now-closed wound. 

“Do you have any fresh bandages?” You turn to Jisung to ask. He nods and rummages through a drawer and gives you the roll. 

“I can assist and sit him up.” Seungmin comes closer to the bed. He gently sits Minho up whose muscles are so limp he may as well be a ragdoll. 

With the bandage secure around his stomach, Minho is laid back down on the bed. 

You grab the rag and dip it in water once more, dabbing any excess sweat from his beautiful skin. You run the rag over his cheeks, down his neck and around the top of his chest. 

After swiping over his scent gland, the smell hits you like a ton of bricks. 

A fresh citrus and woodsy aroma wraps around you like a python. All of your senses light up like a flame. 

Every muscle in your body seizes. 

Mate. Mate. Mate.

No way. He’s your…

Quickly, you place the wet rag on his forehead once more and start gathering up your equipment. 

“He should wake up in a few hours. Allow him to get plenty of rest. You can change his gauze twice a day. Apply more crushed Dusk Tulips to the wound if the infection persists, but it should be completely gone from his system.”

Your voice wavers and everything falls out quickly. Clearing your throat, you throw everything back into your satchel. 

Minho shifts around on the bed, his nose twitching. 

“ M…Mate… ”

You cough loudly and turn around to face the other lycans. 

“May I please return to my village now?”

Chan eyes you closely, then Minho, then back to you. With each moment, you can feel your heart rate increasing. He’s deadpan for a second and then nods.

“Aye, we will have someone accompany you back to Beckinsale.”

“No need,” you blurt out quickly and walk briskly towards the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you all.”

Before they can respond, you’re out the door, and back into the Enchanted Forest. 

Back in the hut, Jisung walks back to Minho’s side and sits on the stool next to the bed. 

“Thank the Gods we crossed paths with her,” he says, adjusting the blanket around Minho. 

“I have a feeling it will not be the last time we see her,” Hyunjin says cockily, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“What do you mean?” Jisung turns to him. 

“You will find out soon enough.” 

------------------------------------------

Minho was floating in a pool of pain for so long. His mind kept coming in and out to the sound of his pack member’s voices. 

They were talking to him, trying to get him to open his eyes. He just couldn’t. No matter how hard he tried. 

The infection took him by the heart and had him in its evil grip. 

For days he went in and out, he had no idea how much time had passed since he was shot with that arrow. 

All Minho knew was that he was going to be dead soon. That much was certain. 

Until the door to the hut opened and it was like he walked into a Holiday Bakery; cinnamon, apples, and vanilla twisted around his soul and sped up his slowing heart rate. 

What was that beautiful smell?

“She is here to heal Minho, Jisung. Back off.”

Who? Who was here to heal him? They brought a healer in? Chan allowed them to bring a healer to their den? 

The scent gets stronger and stronger. It’s almost enough motivation for Minho to pry his eyes open. 

“May I?” 

Oh, that sweet, melodic voice. Angels are jealous of that sound, Minho is certain of that. 

Your touch is so ginger, he could cry. Minho’s almost forgotten all about the wound drawing his very soul down to the Underworld. 

“Hail, Minho.”  

Every nerve in his body sings at the sound of his name tumbling from your mouth. He’s not even sure what you look like, but he knows you’re gorgeous. An angel, you have to look like an angel. If he was able to open his eyes, you would have a halo above your head. 

“My name is Y/N, I am the village healer for Beckinsale. And I apologize, this is not going to feel pleasant at all.”

Beckinsale? Are you sure you’re not a being of the afterlife here to hold him and keep him safe?

Y/N from Beckinsale who smells like the sweetest pastry he could ever hope to sink his sharp teeth into. 

A rag is dipped into water and the cool bite brings relief over his feverish skin. A sigh of relief comes from his nose. 

He falls into the feeling of you surrounding him. The way your scent wafts through his body and soothes his very soul. 

The pain of his wound is long forgotten about. 

“Apologies, Minho. Please know my intentions are not ill.”

Whatever you say, Angel. 

Minho is vaguely aware of the pain that grips his stomach, it’s searing, like it’s being cauterized. 

But your scent, your beautiful, angelic scent keeps his mind distracted and in the clouds. 

Second by second, the pain gets less and less. The weight that’s been sitting in his chest begins to lift. Heat still hovers over his body, but it only feels like he sat a bit too close to a campfire. 

Then, for the first time since his injury, Minho begins to drift off to a peaceful sleep. Not one where he’s riddled with fever dreams and infection induced nightmares. No, a dreamless sleep surrounded by cinnamon, apples, and vanilla. 

Will you still be here when he wakes up? 

He needs you there. 

He hasn’t even seen your face! You’re his fated other half! 

Minho tries with all his might to wake up, but the comfort of sleep finally wins when you run your beautifully soft fingers through his sweaty hair. 

There’s a slight spike in your scent. 

You pull away from him quickly. 

No, no, no.

Come back. No, please. 

“M… Mate.”

You don’t hear him, you mustn’t have. You’re still leaving, please don’t go. No, please. 

Your scent gets weaker and weaker. It no longer sits in the room with you. 

Minho gives up and falls asleep on the sweat covered bed. 

Y/N from Beckinsale. 

It definitely won’t be the last time he’s in a room with you.

------------------------------------------

“Now,” you put your hands on your hips after tying the tiniest bandage around a little boy’s knee. “What did we learn about running in the alley?”

“Not to…” he sniffles and wipes the snot leaking from his nose. 

You laugh and reach forward, wiping the tears from his eyes gently. 

“Exactly, now go on back home for dinner.” You laugh and ruffle his hair. “There’s a basket full of sweets by the door, make sure you grab one. I read in a book somewhere that they make wounds heal faster.”

His eyes light up and he hops off the table, running towards the door and grabbing an entire handful of sweets. 

“Thank you, Y/N!” he yells as he runs outside. 

Another laugh falls from your lips and you clean up the patient table he was sitting on. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see an almost empty tonic bottle sitting on your workbench. 

It’s been three weeks since you healed Minho in the middle of the Enchanted Forest. It’s been three weeks since you had access to Orange Needle Lilies

And it’s been three weeks since you’ve found your mate. 

You need more flowers for your own safety. But if you venture back into their land, would they let you leave this time?

Biting your lip nervously, you pace around the floor. 

You should’ve asked. You should’ve said that was your one condition for healing him. But were you really in the position to be making demands? 

“Shit,” you mutter, still staring at the bottle. 

Not having the scent blocker is not a chance you’re willing to take. Especially since there’s an alpha in your village that has been eyeing you up like fresh meat for months now. 

You need those flowers. 

If you run into the pack, maybe they’ll spare you. You did save Minho’s life after all.

Within a few moments, you have your travel boots laced up and your satchel across your body. A dagger sits comfortably in your pocket. 

You’re out the door and walking into the enchanted forest before you can think twice about it. 

The air gets thicker the deeper you get into the woods, that’s something you always noticed. It gets heavier and inflates your lungs differently. 

A hum rings low through the trees. 

Get in, pick the flowers, get out. Get in, pick the flowers, get out. 

Your usual area is a clearing in the trees by a babbling brook. The sound of the water flowing over the rocks is usually enough to help conceal your presence to the wolf pack. 

You will not slip and fall again. 

With a racing heart, you lean down and start clipping the Lilies out of the ground. All of your senses on high alert to your surroundings. 

After only about 4 flowers, a twig snaps behind you. 

All of your muscles freeze, your blood runs cold. 

Slowly, you stand up and look around. Maybe it was just an animal that ran by. Could’ve been a rabbit, or a squirrel. 

“You have a lot of nerve coming back here, I will give you that.”

Or a wolf. 

“Seungmin,” you gulp and look at the ground nervously. “I apologize, I truly mean no disrespect, I just need these-“

“Flowers, yes, I understand.”

He walks closer to you, face completely unreadable. You look up from the ground at the beta. 

Tattered shorts and a mostly ripped shirt adorn his body. 

“You cannot keep coming here, Y/N.”

“Please, you do not understand I-“

“Y/N.”

His tone is somewhat begging. 

“Seungmin, they do not grow anywhere else.”

“You will have to find an alternative.”

Your jaw clenches and your heart squeezes. An alternative to a scent blocker? 

“I do not see the harm in my being here. I only require flowers.”

Your own bravery surprises you. 

“If we let you galavant all over our land, we would have to let everyone do so.”

“Galavant? I am picking flowers!” You sputter and frown, an angry look begins pulling at your face. You take a few steps closer to Seungmin. 

The beta bristles outwardly at your confrontation but holds his ground. 

“Do you forget that I saved your packmate’s life? I am only asking to come pick flowers. Flowers that will save my life.”

His eyebrows furrow in confusion. 

“Your life?”

“I am unmarked, Seungmin. If he catches a whiff I-“

You cut yourself off. Looking down at the ground, you sigh, throat constricting with frustrated tears. 

“Just forget it. I will not bother your pack anymore.”

Both of you stand in silence for a long moment before you gather yourself and brush past Seungmin. 

You bump your shoulder into his. 

It’s petty, but you do it. 

“By the way,” you start without looking back. “I can tell by the redness of your eyes you are beginning to fall ill with a seasonal sickness. Chew on onion stems to help keep the symptoms at bay.”

And with that, you walk away from the clearing. Only four Lilies in your satchel. 

------------------------------------------

“I am fully healed and you know it, you should have let me go with Seungmin.” Minho’s voice has a sharp bite to it. 

Chan continues walking away, not giving Minho the time of day. But the younger wolf walks after him. 

“Seungmin can handle one person by himself,” Chan responds, picking up the ax to cut firewood. 

“I am aware of that, but you will not let me leave the den. Why am I some sort of prisoner now?”

“Drop it, Minho.”

He splits a log in half with a mighty swing. 

“One measly little injury and suddenly you imprison me!”

“Minho.”

Another swing. 

“It has been weeks and every time I try to go anywhere you look down upon me.”

“You almost died!” Chan whips around at him, fire in his eyes. “And if it were not for that human you would be dead.” He spits at him. 

The way he sneers when he mentions you has Minho’s blood boiling. Anger creeps up under his collar and into his mind. 

“Do not speak of her as if she is scum,” Minho growls. 

Chan’s eyebrows furrow further in anger. “I never said she was scum, you made that jump yourself.”

Both lycans stare each other in the eye, neither wanting to be the one that breaks the intense eye contact. 

“You do not even know her, Minho.”

“I do not need to!”

A whoosh followed by snapping comes from the edge of the woods. 

“Another pissing contest?” Seungmin sighs as he walks closer to the two brooding Alphas. 

Chan glares at Minho for a moment longer before looking at Seungmin, who was chewing on an onion stem. 

“Did you take care of the problem?”

“Aye, it was only-“

“Good.” Chan interrupts him and turns to walk away. He only just started chopping wood; why was he leaving already? And why did he cut Seungmin off?

“Who was it?” Minho presses, lips pursing in confusion. 

Seungmin’s eyes flicker from Minho, to Chan, then back to Minho before shaking his head. 

“A stray beggar. I took care of the problem.”

He shifts from foot to foot and then walks past Minho. The wind kicks up at that moment.

That’s when Minho smells it. 

Cinnamon, apples, and vanilla. 

Acting on instinct, Minho’s hand flies out and grabs Seungmin’s tattered shirt in a death-like grip. 

He yanks him to be nose to nose.

“It was her,” he grits out between his teeth. “Y/N was there.”

Surprise flickers through Seungmin’s eyes. His hand comes up and grabs Minho’s to try and get him to release his collar. 

Chan stops mid step and turns to look at them. 

“My mate was here. That’s why you would not allow me to go with Seungmin. Not because you were concerned about my health.”

Minho grips Seungmin even tighter. 

“What did you do to her?” He barks. “Did you hurt her? If you even laid a hand on her, I swear to the Gods, I will-“

Seungmin shoves his shoulder roughly. “You will do what? Nothing, now back off. I did not even touch her, she pushed into me as she was leaving.”

“Why was she here?” Minho presses.

“Drop it, Minho.” Chan growls.

He ignores him, “Why does she keep coming here?”

“Flowers.” Seungmin snaps at him, walking away from the two bristling lycans. “She comes here for Orange Needle Lilies, she uses them as a scent blocker.”

“A scent blocker?” Minho asks. Chan doesn’t respond. He stares him down, his alpha gaze does nothing to unnerve his packmate.

A feeling of dread begins to crawl up his spine and settles at the back of his neck.

Minho turns on his heel, his mind made up.

There’s a rough yank on the back of his collar. Involuntarily, Minho growls and turns, teeth bared at whoever grabbed him.

Chan looks down at him with an equally challenging look. 

“Where do you think you are going?” Chan barks.

“To Beckinsale,” Minho answers dangerously.

“No, you are not.’

“You are not my father. I am going to see my mate.” Minho shoves away from him.

“I am your pack leader and I am saying no , Minho.”

“To Hell with you, Chan.”

With one last push against his shoulders, Minho frees himself from Chan. They both stare at each other for a long moment, neither wolf saying anything, and neither want to give up. 

Eventually, Minho bares his teeth and rolls his eyes before walking away back into the hut.

That nagging, anxious feeling continuously pricks at the back of his neck, making all of his hair stand up on the end. 

Something is happening, something is wrong, he just knows it. 

------------------------------------------

The last of your scent blocking salve was used three days ago. 

Since then you’ve rarely left your home and if you did, you wore a high necked blouse or scarf. You made yourself scarce around the village. 

You’re going to have to return to normal life soon, and you will. But not now. 

Not when your heat is only a day or so away. It could hit any second now, you can feel the beginning stages thrumming within you. Your skin crawls with tiny pin pricks. 

This will be your first heat without scent blockers. And the thought of it is making you a humming ball of anxiety. 

There was only one problem– you needed food to make it through the next few days, and that meant leaving your home. Any other alpha or beta will be able to smell you from miles away. As soon as you step outside your door, you’re surely done for.

You bite your thumbnail and pace right by your front door. A tight, high-collared sweater adorned with a thick knit scarf on top rests on your body.

Why didn’t you go out earlier? 

Staring down out the window, you find your courage– you need food to get through this, there’s no way you’ll make it through without proper nutrition. 

Without another moment to hesitate, you open the door and make your way down to the local market. You wrap the scarf even tighter around your neck and keep your head down.

The sun set about twenty minutes ago, darkness creeping through the sky. 

You decide to take back alleys and less populated streets to the market– at the time, it seemed like the best idea.

It wasn’t until you passed by someone and a low growl came from their throat that you realized that it was, in fact, the worst decision you could’ve ever made. 

The growl was followed by a deep inhale.

Gulping, you try to walk faster to the market, the end of the alleyway was only about fifteen meters away. 

‘Shit, shit, shit.’ You think to yourself.

“Mmm,” the male hums from the back of his throat. “If it isn’t the village healer.”

Your blood runs cold. Out of all the people in Beckinsale, it had to be him. The Blacksmith’s son who had been eyeing you for months, maybe even years– preaching around the village about he was going to lay claim to you one day. 

Deciding to ignore him and keep walking, you pick up the pace, your legs carrying you faster down the alleyway. 

“Do not be daft, girl, I know you heard me.”

Fear creeps up the back of your neck and into your hair. Just keep walking, Y/N. Get into a more populated area. 

A strong, vice grip snatches your wrist and yanks you backwards.

Before you could scream, a hand clamps over your mouth and your body is slammed backwards into the alleyway wall. The stone connects with the back of your skull with a crack.

Rotten, nasty smells surround your nose and your body physically recoils away from it. The Blacksmith’s son was a huge, stocky man whose outward appearance accurately reflected his strength. The hand over your mouth was about as big as your face.

“Is that a heat I smell, little omega?” He leans down further, crowding your space. His greasy hair hangs in front of his eyes.

Alpha eyes getting darker and darker as the smell of your heat seeps through the collar of your shirt and scarf. 

His other hand comes up and rips the scarf away from your neck.

You squeal behind his hand and reach up, trying your hardest to pry it off your mouth to scream for help. Your nails scratch at his leathery skin, your entire body writhes around against the stone. 

Please, anybody come into the alley, please.

His head ducks down and goes right into the crook of your neck and takes a deep inhale. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes when you hear the dark growl rumble in his chest.

You shove as hard as you can against his chest, but he doesn’t budge. All those years working as a blacksmith has left him built like a brick wall.

“Holy fuck you smell so good,” he moans into your ear taking in your scent. You’re sure you couldn’t smell that good, not with the fear you’re feeling coursing through your veins and souring the scent. 

He leans back, eyes completely black. The tears in your eyes spill down your cheeks.

“Cannot wait to claim you as my omega.” 

Thick fingers reach up to the top of your shirt and in one sharp movement, he tears open the front, all of the buttons pop open and fly out onto the stone.

Another cry is muffled by his hand. 

Your scent seeps through the alley, filling the cracks in the pavement. 

Sobs wrack your chest.

“Good little omega…” His disgusting fingers trail down your neck.

Right as they’re about to touch your scent gland, one of the deepest, darkest, strongest growls shoots down the alley.

Both of you jolt.

Your eyes frantically look over at the source; scream after scream being muffled by the Blacksmith’s hand.

Bright, amber eyes glare down the alleyway with murderous intent. 

The very sight of them fills you with an unreal level of relief. 

“Get your vile hands off my mate .”

His voice is like a balm over your fear. You’ve never felt such instant relief to your emotions in your life. It’s like putting a safety blanket over your shoulders. A haze falls over your mind at the melody.

Mate, alpha, mate, safe, mate.

“Get the fuck outta here, she is unclaimed,” your captor snarls back.

Another snarl comes from the other man. 

He begins to take step after step towards the two of you, each one faster than the other. 

Once his face is visible, your heart leaps in your chest. 

Minho. 

Your mate came to save you.

His eyes lock with yours, they soften considerably as they gaze upon your fear twisted face, the tears still stream down your cheeks. 

It’s the first time he’s seeing your face. His entire world seems to stop. 

You try to whimper his name but it’s still muffled. 

Minho’s eyes flicker back to your captor, darkening once more. 

“I am giving you one last opportunity to let her go before I tear your throat out.” Minho snarls, still striding towards you. His boots click on the stone. 

“I would love to see you try–” The Blacksmith is cut off when Minho punches a sharp right hook into his nose. He stumbles and falls to the ground, clutching at his face. Blood oozes through his fingers. 

You’re able to breathe through your mouth finally. 

“Alpha.” Is the only word you’re able to utter at Minho, chest rising and falling with heavy pants. Your mate’s eyes snap to yours.

He takes in your form carefully, sweeping over each of your features lovingly. Your eyebrows pull together, your skin begins burning with a need to be touching him. You need him to hold you, touch you, kiss you– anything.

“Alpha, please,” you hiss.

He steps closer to you, taking his cloak off from around his shoulders. He wraps it around you carefully, closing the front.

Fresh citrus and woods envelopes you and you could cry even more from the relief his scent brings you. A gentle kiss is pressed to your forehead. 

“Just one moment, dear.”

Minho steps away from you, face immediately morphing into one of murderous intent as he looks at the Blacksmith.

The pathetic man looks up at him with a frightened yelp. “Get away from me!” He cries out.

Minho’s scent invades your senses, wrapping around you and putting you in a protective bubble. You’re vaguely aware of the sounds of Minho beating the living daylights out of the Blacksmith but you couldn’t care less.

Your heat decided to hit you like a brick wall the moment Minho stepped into your senses. Suddenly, he’s the only thing your brain knows. 

You sink down onto the ground, shrinking in on yourself inside Minho’s warm cloak.

Muffled screams and muted punches ring out in the background. But you can only mewl softly, curling further and further into the fabric. 

You don’t even register when the fighting stops. Two warm hands are grabbing you gently, bringing your chin up to meet dazzling brown eyes. 

Minho looks over every inch of your face, his thumbs come up and wipe the tear streaks off your cheeks. 

“Did he hurt you?” Everything about his voice is so tender; its a complete one-eighty from the way he was speaking to the Blacksmith. 

You shake your head, unable to tear your eyes away from his. Your lids droop, chest still heaving with pants. 

It’s like an unscratchable itch settles in your smalls. 

The longer you surround yourself in Minho’s scent, the wetter and wetter your slick gets the fabric.

“Alpha,” you murmur again, leaning into his touch. 

His jaw clenches and he cups you closely, his thumb swipes back and forth over the soft skin of your cheek. Every ounce of his self restraint is being tested. 

Minho’s cock jumps in his pants at the sight of you desperate before him.

His resolve on following Chan’s wishes broke about two hours ago when his wolf kept screaming at him to find you, that something was wrong. 

Chan be damned, his instincts kept you safe.

“Let’s get you home, Y/N.” He reaches forward and scoops you up into his arms.

As the fabric of his cloak shifts around, your scent mixed with his puffs out and into his nose. An audible moan pulls from his throat and he has to shut his eyes and focus on staying calm lest he wanted to take you against the alleyway wall.

The way your warm, homey smells blends together seamlessly with this outdoorsy ones sends Minho’s brain into a frenzy.

Mate, claim, mate, mark, mate. HIs wolf howls at him.

He takes a deep, shaky breath and stands up with you in his arms. You whimper and curl into him further.

Your head falls into the crook of his neck, your nose nudging at his scent gland.

It’s driving him insane.

“Y/N,” he strains out. “Where– Which way?” He asks.

You moan into his neck, rubbing your head all over him, further blending your scents. His knees almost give out right then and there. 

“Need you, Alpha.” Your hand comes out of the cloak and grabs at his shirt.

“I am right here, my little omega.” Minho presses his lips to your forehead. “Please,” he whispers into your skin. “Let me get you home and I will do whatever you need, Y/N. Your alpha will take good care of you.”

Releasing his shirt, you point in one direction down the alley. 

Minho doesn’t hesitate, he briskly walks in that direction, keeping you close to his chest. Throughout the entire walk, you motion in vague directions while nosing at his neck, leaving small pecks that make his legs turn to jelly.

You coo softly against him, squirming around every few seconds as your heat takes a hold of your body.

The timer on his self control is ticking down by the second. 

He’s been dreaming about you ever since you took care of him like some angel from the afterlife, and now that he finally has you in his arms, he never wants to let go.

Finally, you point to a small cottage tucked away in the corner of the village.

Minho heaves a sigh of relief and almost sprints up to the door, opening it and stepping inside so fast you would think someone was chasing him. 

The entire cottage smells like you in the best way. 

After spending night after night trying to recall just how sweet you smell, being inside your cottage feels like a dip in a hot bath. 

He makes his way through the house and into a room that holds a large bed in the middle. 

How can a cottage he’s never set foot in feel so familiar ?

With great care, he lays you down on your bed. When he goes to stand up, your arms lock around his neck. 

“No, Alpha, please,” you whine into his neck. “Need you so bad. I need my alpha.”

Minho audibly groans, he has to place a hand on the bed to stop his body from crumpling. 

“I will be right back, my dove. I only need to check the locks on the door.”

He buried his own face in your neck, inhaling your gorgeous scent. You keen and coo at his attention. 

“You will come right back?” You ask.

“Aye, I will. You will not even know I left the room.”

You press one long, last kiss to the crook of his neck before slowly unwinding your arms from around his neck. 

Minho peels himself away from you and goes back to the front door, checking each and every lock on the door and windows. 

He should take more time to really inspect each one, but his inner wolf is absolutely clawing at his self control. 

Mate. Mark. Claim. Mate. Mine. 

Sweat drips down the back of his neck, his hands shaking. 

But as much as his wolf wanted to claim you, he also wanted to protect you and never let a single thing ever happen to you again. He would make sure that you were never put into harm's way. 

The last lock is inspected and secure. 

Minho turns on his heel and practically runs back to your room. 

The smell of your arousal permeates the air thicker and thicker the closer he gets to your room. You smell so sickeningly sweet, he can’t wait to sink his teeth into you. 

Tiny whimpers invade his ears and each one sends a shot of arousal to his cock. 

He knocks on your door before entering. 

His mouth goes dry, his inner wolf howls. 

In the time that it took for him to check the locks, you pushed pillows and blankets into a nest, his cloak right under your head. 

You also stripped yourself of all your clothes. Your beautiful nude form right in the middle of the bed. 

Fingers buried deep into your cunt. 

Slick drips down your folds and onto the sheets. 

Your fingers seem to be doing nothing to help your hazy state. There was only one thing that could help. 

“Minho,” you moan out, turning your head to look at him. A thin sheen of sweat covers your body. “ Please. ” 

His instincts decide to push him into the passenger’s seat. 

He’s striding to you as fast as his legs would take him, his hands already working on ripping his own shirt off. 

A growl tears from his throat as he climbs on the bed, stalking up your body with predator-like eyes. 

“Did you make a pretty nest for us, little one?”

You nod with a scarlet haze over the bridge of your nose and up your cheeks to your ears. 

Minho wastes no time smashing your lips together. He licks and sucks your mouth like it’s candy.

He cages you down on the mattress with his strong arms. Your free hand threads into his hair and keeps him as close as possible. 

It’s sloppy and disgusting, spit leaks out down your chin. Your tongues dance with one another, he licks around your mouth while you whimper and suck on his tongue. 

Neither of you can control the noises you’re making. 

Your walls clench down on your own fingers. 

“Been dreaming of you every single night, omega.” He growls against your lips before capturing them again. “Your scent has been driving me wild.”

Mewing, you bite his lower lip and pull back for it to snap back against his teeth. 

Slowly, Minho can feel the itch of his own rut beginning to tickle at the base of his spine. Your heat must be triggering it. 

“I have never smelled anything as good as you do.” Minho trails his wet kisses down your neck to lick all over your skin. He stops at your scent gland, his tongue raking over it in slow, long, wet, strokes. 

He’s taking his time like he would with a dessert. 

Every single lick makes you moan and keen into his touch. Your fingers start thrusting in and out of yourself faster and faster. But it doesn’t help, it only makes you burn even more. 

“Minho,” you pant, pulling on his hair. He fights against your pull, not wanting to be parted from your scent gland. “Minho!” You try again, whining. 

He growls low in his throat, one of his hands coming down to glide down the side of your body to your hip. His large palm rests against your red hot skin. 

The licks and sucks are sending you wild. 

“Alpha!” You cry out, his body jolts a bit and he finally lifts his head. Blacked out, hazy eyes watch you closely. “Need you to touch me please. ”

Minho smirks and keeps eye contact with you while kissing down your body. He bites your collarbones, kisses the skin between them, then underneath them.

When he gets down to your breast, he envelopes an entire nipple in his mouth and sucks hard .

You cry out, your head tilting back to arch off the bed. 

Minho has none of that, this alpha wants eye contact, he wants submission to him. He fists a hand in your hair and yanks your head so that you look at him. 

“Eyes on me, Omega.” He licks around your pebbled bud again, sucking harshly. “Perfect,” he says around your nipple. “Perfect for our pups to suckle on.”

Pride rips through you at your alpha’s words. Your heat has you in its clutches, the only thing your body wants is to make pups, breed, fuck, get pregnant. 

Minho switches to the other nipple, keeping his eyes on you. Your hand still in his hair cards through gently, pushing the strands off his forehead. 

After a harsh bite, you grab a fistful with a moan. 

Meanwhile, your slick is dripping down your fingers and staining the sheets underneath you. Every flick of his tongue makes you clench around your fingers. 

You start to thrust in and out in time with his licks. 

It’s still not enough. 

Your eyebrows knit together and you whine, trying to curl your own fingers to make you feel good. 

Minho notices your struggle and smirks. “Do you need your alpha to touch you?”

“Yes!” you cry out, frustration creeping down your collar. “I need my alpha so bad!”

Minho hums and runs his hand down your body to grab your wrist. He sits up after leaving one more mark on your chest. 

Carefully, he pulls your fingers out of your cunt with a wet squelch. 

“Fuck,” he groans under his breath as he watches your slick drip down your folds. The smell is absolutely intoxicating. 

Minho brings your hand up to his mouth, he licks all the way up your forearm, up your hand, to take your fingers into his mouth. 

His hips jolt forward at your taste. 

If he thought your scent was amazing, then your taste was otherworldly. 

His eyes close and he loses himself in your taste, suckling on your lithe fingers, tongue swirling around the digits. 

You’re panting while watching him. Wherever he touches you is the only place that stops burning with need and desire. 

“Minho…” you coo and your hips wiggle around impatiently. 

Bringing your hand out of his mouth, he stares directly at your glistening folds. 

“Need to taste you more.”

He practically dives in, tongue licking a long strip from bottom to the top, circling your clit to lap back down at your hole. 

Your entire body arcs and you scream out in pleasure. One hand flies down to pull at his hair again, your hips grind into his face. 

It feels so good .

Minho grabs your hips, thumbs pressing down on the bone to keep you still. 

He’s losing himself second by second in your juices. It’s like he’s drinking a honeyed ale, he’s getting absolutely drunk on you. 

The entire world could collapse around the two of you right now and he wouldn’t stop. 

His rut seems to have taken full control of his body. 

Mate, mark, claim, taste, fuck, breed. 

His cock is so fucking hard in his trousers but he doesn’t want to take his mouth away from you, not for a second. 

Over and over again he laps at your clit, each time you moan and pull his hair. 

Incoherent babbles fall from your lips telling him how good he’s making you feel, how much you need him. 

“Close, close, close,” you repeat like a prayer, a rubber band pulling tighter and tighter inside you. 

One of his hands moves from your hip to thrust two fingers into your pulsing hole. Minho’s eyes roll back in his head at how soft and velvety you feel around his fingers. 

His wolf howls at him to fuck you already, to sink his cock inside you and cum over and over again until it takes hold. 

But the man wants— no, needs— you to cum in his mouth. 

His tongue flicks over your clit at the same time he curls his fingers up to hit a spot within you and your body tenses. 

Instead of crying out, your mouth stretches open and no sound comes out. 

Your walls clamp down on his fingers and pulse as your orgasm rips through you. The grip on his hair tightens so much. 

As your juices leak out around his fingers, he laps it up greedily. 

Once the main waves of your orgasm pass, you finally let out a strained grunt, chest heaving with pants and moans. 

His name falls from you like a mantra. 

The itch within you was scratched, but just for a split second. The moment you come down from your orgasm, that burning begins once more. 

He knows it. He knows the only thing that’ll make it go away is his knot. 

His fingers slide out of you and he crawls over you to hover over your panting form. 

Your hair is frizzy and messy, eyes hazy and fucked out, swollen lips parted. Minho desperately wants this image of you to stay burned into his memory.

“Minho,” you moan to him. 

“Taste how delicious you are.” Gently, he pushes his fingers past your lips. 

Immediately, your tongue licks around his digits. The feeling causes him to buck his hips forward into yours. His clothed cock ruts into your soaking cunt. 

Both of you moan together. 

You suck on his fingers and taste whatever you can. 

He can only take it for a few seconds before he pulls them away and replaces them with his tongue. 

The taste of your juices is swapped between your tongues. 

“Need you,” you moan between kisses. “Need my alpha.” Kiss. “Need your knot.”

Once more he bucks into you involuntarily. He needs you just as bad as you need him.

“I will give you what you want.” He bites your lip. “My little omega.”

He pulls away from you. “Flip over for me, little one.” 

Immediately, you do what he says. 

Minho stands up from the bed to shuck off his trousers and heavy boots. His cock springs free and he strokes himself a few times, eyes following how you arch your back on your hands and knees, presenting yourself for him. 

His tongue licks his lips and then it pulls between his teeth. 

You’re so fucking gorgeous. 

“Alpha, please ,” you whine and look back over your shoulders. 

He crawls back onto the mattress and gives your ass cheek a sharp slap. 

“Be patient.”

Minho lines up behind you, fisting the base of his cock. He rubs it up and down your slick. 

The two of you moan out in unison. 

Mewling, you push your hips backwards to try and spear yourself on him. Minho is quick to slap your asscheek again. 

“Omegas who do not behave do not get their alpha’s knots.” His hand rubs over where he slapped. 

You whine and bury your face into his cloak still bunched underneath you. Your back arches more and you can’t keep still. 

Your hips twitch, hole clenching around nothing the more he rubs his cock head in your slick. 

“Minho!” You whine, the frustration is killing you. 

He clicks his tongue at your impatience. “Fine, then. I will give you what you want.”

His tone is dark and he shoves into you without further notice. 

Your walls stretch around him deliciously. He’s so big you think you can feel him in your throat. The pleasure shoots right into your thighs. 

Minho’s eyes roll back in his head at the feeling of your wetness surrounding him. 

He doesn’t even try to take it slow. His wolf holds the reins tightly and begins slamming into you over and over again. 

He’s thrusting so hard, his hips slap into your ass with each stroke. 

More babbling comes from your mouth. 

Minho reaches forward and grabs a fistful of your hair, lifting your head up from the cloak. 

Your tongue lulls out of your mouth. 

“Fucking look at that,” he moans in awe. “Only inside you for a minute and you are already cock drunk.”

Your eyes glaze over and you lose yourself in the feeling of him abusing your little hole. 

“Feel so fucking good wrapped around me. You were made for me, little omega.”

The only sound you are able to muster is a tiny ‘ mhmm! ’

“So fucking good for me, good for your alpha.”

“Only for you, Alpha!”

A sharp smack lands on your ass again, you cry out. 

“That’s right. Just for me. Just for your alpha. No one else. This cunt right here is all mine. ”

He looks down at where he can see his cock disappearing inside you to come back out coated in your delicious slick. It makes him feel insane. 

Minho can’t control himself anymore, not that he would want to.

It’s animalistic, the way he wants to devour you. 

He tugs on your hair and brings you up so your back is flush with his chest. The hand in your hair moves around to grab your throat. His other hand splays out on your lower stomach. 

“Can fucking feel my cock fucking you right here.” He presses down on your stomach and your head falls back against his shoulder. 

The moans you’re making are so involuntary. 

“Going to stuff you so full of pups. You’ll look so fucking good pregnant, carrying our children. So swollen and full.” 

At the base of his cock, Minho can feel his knot begin to form, it prods and catches on your entrance more every stroke. 

“Please, please, please,” you cry like a mantra. 

“You want that, little girl? You want to carry my pups? You want me to fuck a baby into you?”

“Yes! Please! Please, Minho! It feels so good!”

His inner wolf howls at your pleasure. It’s all he wants. 

“Close, Alpha. Please, mark me, please, please.”

Minho’s hips stutter at your words, but when his tempo comes back, it’s rough . Every stroke is unforgiving, he’s racing towards the finish line as fast and hard as he can.

Fuck, he wants to claim you so bad. It’s all he’s wanted for weeks since you first set foot in the hut. 

“My omega wants my mark? She wants me to claim her as mine?”

You nod in his grasp, he feels you gulp. “Yes! I need it. Need everyone to know I’m yours.”

Minho growls, his nose buries into the crook of your neck right at your scent gland. 

The idea of you wearing his mark proudly makes him feral: you in low collared shirts to purposefully parade your mating mark, you nursing your pups with that bite inches away. 

He needs it like he needs air to breathe. How can one person make him feel this way? 

His hand squeezes a bit on your throat. 

“I’ll give you my mark, Omega. I’ll claim you. You’ll be mine forever.”

He feels you clench down more. The knot at the base of his cock inflates more and more.

His orgasm is dangling in front of him teasingly. But he needs you to cum again, he needs to feel you clench down around him. 

The muscles in his abdomen are painfully tight. 

The hand on your hip moves to rub circles on your clit in time with his thrusts. 

“‘M close, Minho, please. Bite me, please. My mate, please. ”

His mind whites out. 

Sharp canines sink into your flesh around your scent gland. 

One of the loudest cries of pleasure ever comes from deep within your chest. Your eyes squeeze shut and your walls clench around him as your second orgasm tears through you like a train. 

Minho’s knot shoves inside you as his own pleasure peaks and hits him like a ton of bricks. The sweet metallic taste of your blood flooding his mouth, your scent keeping his brain on Earth. 

Cum shoots from his cock and floods your walls for what feels like forever. 

Neither of you have ever felt something so heavenly before. Two souls merge into one. 

Slowly, you both start coming down to earth. Minho’s hand around your neck starts massaging at the sensitive skin. 

You whine when he removes his teeth from your skin. 

He coos and laps up at the blood streaming down your body. Small kisses pepper the outside of the mark. 

Sweet nothings tumble from his lips. “Beautiful, beautiful mate. All mine. So sweet, so beautiful.”

Carefully, he maneuvers the two of you to lay down on your sides, his knot still buried within you. He has a feeling it will be there for a while.

He brings the blankets up over your exhausted bodies. 

Your skin is no longer burning with need, instead you’re in a content, happy bubble, your mate’s arms wrapped around you safely. 

Never in your life have you felt such comfort. You’re floating on a cloud.

His woodsy smell acts like a second blanket. 

Small hums leave you as you snuggle back into his chest more. 

Minho chuckles and kisses your bare shoulder. 

Your brain comes out of your heat-induced fog. But, instead of panicking, you find yourself happier than ever. 

One of your hands comes up to play with the fingers of the hand that’s by your head. His arm acting like a pillow. 

“I would have gotten shot with an arrow sooner if it meant I would find you.” He jokes, breaking the silence. 

You giggle. It’s music to his ears. 

He continues. “Your voice broke through the delirium of the infection.” Another kiss to your shoulder. “I remember thinking you were an Angel here to bring me into the afterlife.”

You flush, embarrassed at his sweet words. 

“And I remember thinking you were the most handsome man I have ever seen, even laying on your deathbed.”

He hums happily and leans up on his elbow. You turn around as much as you can to look up at him with a happy smile. 

“It is nice to officially meet you, Minho.”

Your fingers come up to brush over his cheek gently.

His heart swells, eyes shine in the candlelight of your room. 

“My beautiful mate.” He leans down and kisses you softly. “Thank you for saving my life.”

You’re hardly able to continue the kiss, you’re smiling too much. “And thank you for saving mine.”

His nose rubs against your cheek in a display of affection. 

“No one will ever harm you again, my dove.”

You laugh and brush your fingers through his hair. Kiss after kiss lands on your bare skin. He focuses more on your mating mark. 

It makes you feel giddy. 

“Well,” you giggle. “I think you may need to protect me from your pack leader.”

Minho chuckles. “He will get over it. I would like to see him try and keep us apart now.”

He leans down and presses your lips together. “My beautiful omega.”

“My handsome alpha.”

[lovifie]

Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 10: Ghost’s Date

Masterlist

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

W: Ghost x Reader (+ Ghost x Price x Reader), threesome, douple p, a bit of choking, feelings.

It's a couple of days after your little adventure with Soap, while you are making yourself a cup of coffee that Ghost enters the house. He walks behind you, smiling when you smile at him, he hugs you from behind kissing the back of your head. 

“How you doing, birdie?” He asks, resting his head on yours.

“Really good, Ghostie.” You answer, smiling enjoying the warmth of his body.

“Any plans for today?” He asks

“Yeah, I was planning on going running later, then I was going to go on a flight to Madagascar and probably have dinner at some terrorist organisation headquarters.” You answer, unnecessarily sarcastic knowing perfectly fine you can't leave the house. “Why? You wanna join?”

“Ha, ha. Well, since you are so busy I'll ask Gaz if he wants to help me with the dogs then.” He says casually, stepping back and chuckling when you whip your head around.

“Dogs?” You ask with a wide smile on your face. 

“Yeah, there is a bunch of new K-9 units and I have been assigned to arrange their trainers and partners.” He explains. “I thought you'd like to spend the afternoon with the puppies but it seems you're busy, so.”

“No, no, I'm not.” You quickly say, clinging to his t-shirt. “I'm sorry, I was just joking, sorry, sorry.” 

You lay your head on his chest, looking up to him with puppy eyes. 

“Can I see the doggies?” You ask smiling softly.

He chuckles, shaking his head at your antics and patting your butt. 

“Put on your shoes then, let's go.” You quickly scurry past him, coffee long forgotten on the kitchen counter. You end up being the one pulling him out of the house, excited to see dogs.

The fresh air of the outside fills your lungs when you take a deep breath making Ghost chuckle. “You're acting like the house doesn't have windows.” 

You laugh back, not being able to argue and walking towards the car. It is a quick drive back to base, and different from Soap, Ghost lets you open your own door waiting for you before the car to hold your hand on your way inside the dog kennels. 

The barks and whines of the puppies can be heard immediately and Ghost moves his hand to the small part of your back to push you forward telling you to go for them. 

You walk faster almost running until reaching the gate at the end of the hall where the puppies are, little tails wagging to the sound of your voice excited to meet new people. You crouch down getting your finger inside that immediately get bitten and licked by the little devils. 

“Want to help me give them their tags?” Ghost asks when he reaches you. “You need to go inside, I'm sure you'll hate it.”

You end up having the time of your life, once inside you sit on the floor close to the gate with Ghost sitting on the other side of the gate. He passes the collars with the tag for each dog, laughing when you try and identify each of the puppies when they won't stay still for a second. 

By the end, most of the dogs are already falling asleep around you; even some on top of you. And when you are done with the tags, Ghost moves to the desk to sign the last documents required.

“Oh, no!” You exclaim getting his attention. “He peed on me!” You whine, moving the puppy that was on your lap and getting out. Holding the t-shirt away from your body, a big, circular spot in the middle of it. 

Ghost chuckles when he sees you, noticing a familiar tag on it. “Wait, is that…”

“Soap's t-shirt?” You ask, looking at what he's pointing. “Yeah, it is.” 

That turns Ghost's chuckle into a whole belly laugh as he stands, finished all the work, picking it up. “Let's go to the room, I'll lend you one of mine.” 

“You got a room in here?” You ask walking after him.

“Yeah, nothing major. Price managed to get us a room for each of us, Gaz and Soap share theirs cause they are clingy but Price and I got our own. Rank privileges.” He says winking at you, slightly blushing for some reason at such a silly gesture. 

The room is close by, and when you enter Ghost sits on his bed dropping the papers on his desk. You take off the shirt, careful not to touch it with your face in the process. In his bathroom, you wash the part of your abdomen that you feel moist, grimacing at the knowledge it is pee and walk back into the room. Not bothering to put on a shirt and sitting on Ghost's lap, your legs going around his hips.

He looks at you, hugging you back and a look of mischievousness in his eyes. 

“So you told Johnny that you loved him.” Ghost suddenly says, blood blushing to your face making you hide it on his neck as you groan.

“He couldn't stay quiet, could he?” You ask, making the man chuckle as his hand moves up and down your back.

“Nah, you would have threatened him with stopping to love him or something for him to be quiet.” He jokes, his other hand resting on your thigh. “But why do you want him not to say anything, love? Embarrassed of him?”

“No. Of me.” You admit, mumbling against his skin while you hug his torso. 

“Explain.” He simply says, pulling words out of you; feeling a certain wave of proudness that you found a safe space to talk in him, even if hiding your face. 

“I feel silly… too exposed… I don't like it…” you say, burying your face even more if possible trying to hide. 

“It is overwhelming, right? He asks, resting his head on top of yours. “And confusing… it is already confusing coming to terms with the feeling of one person, let alone four of them, right?”

You simply nod against his neck, like a stubborn kid getting called out. 

“And you feel the pressure to automatically love the four of them. There is that one person that you feel like the relationship is a bit more forward or is just different from the rest, maybe you met them before or clicked easier with them. But now, it is not fair to the rest so you start to force yourself to love them too, and it is not that you don't, is that you are not letting the relationship evolve naturally and you are pressuring it, and it doesn't feel right. And then, that turns into feeling that they are gonna notice it, and they are going to hate you and you are going to lose them all, but now you want them and instead of feeling love you feel scared and you don't want to admit it.” He says calmly, each word as if he was reading your mind. You look up to him, brows furrowed and glossy eyes. “Right?”

“How do you…” you half ask, looking into his eyes that crinkle when he smiles. 

“Well, birdie.” He says with a soft chuckle. “We didn't wake up one day and decided we were all married together and everything was perfect. It took us years to finally set everything in.”

“Years?” You ask surprised by the time.

Simon hums as an answer. “We met you a month ago. So you already doing a better job than all of us.” He chuckles. “I'm pretty sure I was the one who did the shittiest job with it, to be honest… I kept thinking Soap didn't like me back, that he was afraid to tell me off and that was why he wanted more with Gaz and Price. Funniest thing is that we were not really dating because I was already unsure about him liking me more than physically.”

“And how did you do it?” You ask.

“Well, the thing that I struggled the most was with how jealous was of the way Soap would look at them. Once I got my head out of my own ass I realised he look at me just like that as well…” He says cupping your face. “And I'm pretty sure he is starting to look at you just like that too. And he is not the only one.”

You look up into his eyes, you have never seen them like they look at the moment. Clear with emotions, no walls in between, just pouring into you the reassurance you so badly need. It brings tears to your eyes, not sad, simply feeling like the door holding all the anxiousness and self-doubt has just been opened and those feelings are being flushed out. 

“Can I kiss you?” You ask with a sob, your hand reaching to the bottom of his mask not daring to actually touch it until he tells you it's okay. He nods, helping you take it off; and before you can kiss him he cups your face stopping you.

“You are alright, birdie?” He asks, concern obvious in his voice. You quickly nod, not wanting to use words and Ghost takes pity on you, probably for seeing himself on you, because he doesn't push you and leans forward crashing his lips against yours. 

His hands move down to your hips, pulling you tightly against him; his tongue finds its way inside dancing along with yours. You grab his shoulders, his wide hands engulfing your ribs pulling you close.

Your hips grind against his crotch making him groan into your mouth, his cock coming to life against your ass. One of his hands moves lower, to where your spine ends and pushes you helping you move against him.

“Aww, poor birdie needs me to fuck all my love into her tight sweet cunt?” He coos into your neck, making you whine out of embarrassment. “Show her how much we want her, our treasured birdie. So luckily that we found you, you know that?”

Ghost moves to kiss your cheeks, drinking your tears as he does. His hand find its way inside of your pants, sliding down until he reaches your entrance groaning when he feels the wetness.

“So wet already, birdie?” He snickers looking at your face as you close your eyes, biting your lips as you keep moving your hips trying to get his finger inside of you. He indulges you, inserting two fingers inside your weeping cunt making you arch your back as a soft moan escapes your lips. 

It is fast, the way he easily takes off your clothes; barely making you stand to take off your clothes before he has you straddling his lap. He's still clothed when you pull him down, making him lay on his back with you still on his lap. 

“I want to ride you, Simon Riley.” 

And who in the hell is he to deny your wishes? He doesn't even stop to think how you learnt his name, Johnny most likely. But you standing over him, hair framing your face, light from outside illuminating you from behind looking like a fucking angel. And it takes him a minute, to remember that he has free will to roam your body with his hands. 

He helps you undo his pants, only taking them down to his mid-thigh before pulling his dick out of his briefs. Simon knows you are not as stretched as you should be, but when he sees you spit down on his tip rubbing your small hand up and down, he too can't wait any longer. 

He helps you, lowering you on his dick as it stretches you to the brim. He sees the look of pure ecstasy on your face; eyes dropping close, brown furrow and lip between your teeth keeping you from moaning out loud. 

He is no better than you, his fingertips dig into the fat of your hips with a bruising strength, his eyes locked into the way your lips spread to allow his dick deep into you. He groans when he feels your hip flush against his, smiling when he sees you grind forward to find friction against your clit; your legs slightly buckling when his trimmed pubes give you that needed touch. 

He moves his hand forward, brushing the soft fuzz of your abdomen as he presses his hand on it placing his hand right where he knows his tip is at. Pressing down at it and moving his thumb slowly down your body, making you feel him inside of you; almost able to tell every vein of his shaft. 

It must also do something for him with the way he groans, using his other hand to move your hips back and forward savouring every millimetre of friction that it gives him. You press your hands on his chest, bending your knees under you getting in position to move up and down. 

He sighs, a feeling of victory in his heart as he moves both his arms to cross them under his head; as if he was simply sunbathing on the beach and not having sex. 

You chuckle when you see him, a refreshing of sight of seeing him smile satisfied with himself and with no mask on the way. 

“Enjoying the view, Riley?” You tease, still not moving and letting yourself rest for a second. 

“Very.” He simply answers, you the white of his teeth peeks as he gives you a tiny smile. “Was it Johnny that told you?”

“Obviously.” You chuckle back, Simon's eyebrow twitching when you do and your cunt clenches around him. “He actually said your name right before eating my ass… I’m still figuring out how to feel about it.”

Your comment makes him chuckle, moving inside of you forcing an intake of air in you. “Nah, that’s just cause you have a bloody nice arse, birdie. Must have reminded him of mine.”

You shake your head. “I’ll have to check it myself then.” You say, raising your chin. 

“Aw, for fucks sake. I already have to hide my arse from Johnny, not from you too.” He laughs, covering his eyes with his arm. 

“Aww, Simon, you getting shy.” You tease him, softly pulling his arm.

“Ha, I’ll show you shy.” He says with a chuckle, he grabs your calves one on each hand pulling you up. It forces you to plant your hands on each side of his head when he pulls your lower body up. It leaves you holding yourself up, with only your hands on the bed, legs spread open and his dick resting on your entrance having forced out with the change in position. 

You look down, seeing the clear string of arousal linking the two of you together, and you watch as he slowly lowers your hips; his tip catching at your entrance and he suddenly thrusts his hips up filling you up easily. 

It forces the air out of your lungs, leaving you with your mouth open right over his face and if you had your eyes open you would be able to see that he looks just as fucked out as you. Eyes closed in bliss, mouth open and head slightly tilted back. 

He moves you up and down, using you like a human fleshlight, the humble show of his sheer strength only fueling your arousal. This man has the strength to break you in two, and instead is using all his power to make you feel good.

It is an angle at which he reaches so deep, every time he lowers your or his hips rises it is skin on skin; there is not an inch of his dick that is not inside of you. Your arousal drips down, making plat plat plat sounds every time your clit kisses his body. 

It has your mind empty, focusing on keeping yourself up but every thrust threatens to make you fall face-first on his. Your arms start to shake after a bit, it is hard to stay up when you are getting fuck within an inch of your life. 

You lower yourself, choosing to rest on your forearms; getting closer to his face but still keeping yourself off of him. “Getting tired, birdie?” He asks between grunts. “Better cum soon them, love.”

He changes the angle again, and somehow the new angle makes it easier for him to reach that point inside of you that has your eyes rolling back into your skull; moaning his name loudly as you feel your climax approach suddenly. 

“Yeah, just like that, birdie.” He says, satisfied with himself that he was able to have you coming undone so quickly. “C’mon, birdie, give to me, love.”

You whine, wanting to hold on a little bit longer; just a bit more.

But it is just a couple thrusts more than have you finally collapsing over him, barely dodging his face on your way down when you come; arms shaking when you feel him let go of you just to rub your clit in tight circles to make you climax last making you moan on his hear.

He lets you breathe when you slap his hand, chuckling to himself when you do and he lets you rest. With you resting on him, both your arms over his head and his face on your chest.  

It takes you a moment to catch your breath back, and when you do you look down to see his dick still red and angry. “You didn't finish…”

“I know, I had another plan.” He says. “Are you alright, love?” He asks, and when you nod he smiles. Standing up keeping you on his arms, your legs around his hips. “Let’s go visit Price.”

“What?” You ask, dumbfounded when you see him start to walk towards the door. “Wait, no, we are naked, people will see.”

“No, they won’t. And I’m dressed.” He argues, and he is right. His only skin showing being his dick and his face. Funny enough.

You hug him, hiding your face on his neck and accepting your fate. He walks outside, he knows perfectly fine that only he and Price are on this side of the base but you don't need to know that. He reaches Price's office in less than a minute which for you feels like an eternity and he knocks on the door, going in when Price says “C’mon in” from the inside.

“Night, Captain.” He says as if it is the most normal interaction. 

“Well, hello Simon.” The captain answers, chuckling when he sees you still hiding. “Hi, birdie.”

You still feel yourself burn with embarrassment, mumbling a tiny Hi as an answer; only pulling your face out when Simons sits you on Price's desk. “Lay down.” Simon tells you.

You look behind you, seeing as Price moves everything so you can lay back; choosing to prop yourself on your elbows to remain able to look at them. 

“Give me a kiss?” Price asks, still sitting on his chair and you give him a soft peck on the lips making the man smile, his moustache moving as he does. “Are you having fun?”

“I am.” You answer and you turn to Ghost. “But he isn’t”

Ghost scoffs at you, slapping your thigh at the same time. “And who says I’m not having fun.”

“He didn't finish.” You tell Price, looking up at him, feeling like a kid snitching on somebody. 

“And whose fault is that?” Ghost answers, teasing you. 

It makes you gasp, feeling offended by his words and you sidekick him his ribs not strong enough to actually hurt him. “Don't say those things to me, I feel bad later!” You admit

“Now, now, settle down the both of you.” He says chuckling as he stands up, slowly walking to stand beside Ghost. “If you have so much energy why don't you fuck it out instead of fighting.”

Ghost groans between your legs, and it's then that you notice that Price is fisting his cock, moving his rough hand slowly up and down Ghost's length aligning it with your entrance. He pushes Ghost forward, filling you up once more and making you moan softly. 

“Lay down.” Price tells you this time, and you oblige letting your back rest against the table. Ghost’s hands move to the underside of your thighs, keeping them up closer to your chest. His hips move slowly in and out of you, and you notice one of his hands slip from your leg. 

Wet sounds catch your attention and when you look up you see Price kissing Ghost, his hand on the back of Ghost's head and Ghost’s hand wrapped around Price’s shaft. He moves his hand at the same pace as the one set by his hips fucking you, you barely hear them moan into each other mouth. The slightest twitch of their eyebrow when they touch a weak spot.

You notice Price’s hand on Ghost’s waist under his shirt, rubbing circles with his thumb and slightly pushing him forward to meet your hips. The one that is behind his head closes around his hair, pulling his head slightly back and Price moves to kiss the man’s throat, a moan leaving Ghost’s mouth as he looks up. 

You see Price drag his tongue flat against Ghost’s neck, moving up to behind his ear biting at his lobe and it is then that he catches you staring; a smirk appearing on his face. “I think birdie is a little perver that likes to watch…” He snitches, a tone of voice that lets you know you are in trouble. 

“I think she just wants more attention… Can’t have enough, do you, birdie?” Ghost asks, grunting as he keeps thrusting in and out. 

“Not true...” You mumble, half whining. You follow Price as he moves away from Ghost, his hand finding its way back to your leg. Price stands behind you, pressing his hand on your chest to make you lie down coming face to face with his dick right in front of your face. 

“Maybe if you have a cock down your throat you will stop lying.” He says, fisting his dick and probing your lips. You open your mouth slowly, expecting him to ease his way inside little by little. Instead, the moment your mouth is opened enough he thrusts forward, making you gag.

“Fuck!” You heard Ghost groan. “Do it again, captain. She clenched down so hard when you did.”

Price chuckles, pulling back and bending down to look at your face. He grabs your hand, moving it so his fingers are on your palm. “If it gets too much, grab it twice, alright, love?” He instructs and you nod, opening your mouth back again eagerly.

He doesn't waste time, filling your mouth back at the same time Ghost does, making you arch your back at the double stimulation. Something about the unusual harder way that the both of them are fucking you tonight truly ignites something inside of you. Ever since your weekend with Soap, something in the dynamics of the five seems to have changed.

Before, they would always touch you with such care as if scared you would break or that they would scare you off if they pressed a bit too hard. Always putting you in front of them, making sure you were enjoying it most time not even caring about themselves.

Not that they are not caring about it today, but there is a certain edge about it that shows that they are enjoying it doing it harder not for the extra friction but for the feeling that they are allowed to do it to you and you are basking on the attention received. 

Price and Ghost thrust in and out so hard that for a second you fear they may meet in the middle, their hands roam your body, pressing, scratching, slightly slapping just to make you jump at the sting. 

Price leans forward to kiss Ghost again, the change in angle making his shaft hit deeper in your throat making you grab his finger in reflex; once, not twice. And once he is sure of it, he keeps fucking your skull without much of a care.

It is not much longer after that you feel your second climax on the night approach, not that you could do much about it. The change in Price's attitude, from worshipping you on your first night to the lack of care of tonight truly opens your eyes to the wide range of possibilities with the man.

And the way Ghost has been filling you up, cunt stretched to accommodate the wide size of his shaft on every thrust has you wailing around Price when his thumb rubs your clit in tight circles. You combust on a loud moan around Price, Ghost holding your hips hard as he picks up the pace trying to reach his as well, grunting loudly and pulling out last second to paint your abdomen white with his spend, groaning at the sigh. 

It is Price the last to come, letting go of your hand to wrap both of his around your throat to fuck it harder. It makes you panic for a second, the lack of his hand translating to a lack of communication to let him know if it is too much. It only lasts until Ghost’s hand takes Price’s place, keeping you grounded as he moves to your side kissing your hand. 

Price's hands wrap harder than expected, making it almost impossible to breathe and having to lean on holding your breath for as long as Price needs hoping to have the lungs capacity. He finally does, right as you start to think about tapping out, he comes deep down your throat, coughing when he finally lets go of your neck. 

He pulls back, letting you breathe, marvelling at the sight of his pretty bird looking so filthy with his and his Lieutenant come on her body. He sits back down on his chair, picking you up to sit you down on his lap; using the tissues on his desk to wash as good as he can the come and spit drying up on your face as you are still coughing up a bit. 

Post-nut clarity hits Price hard when he sees the imprints on his hands on your neck, they are just red for the lack of oxygen; he knows perfectly fine there will be no marks in the morning. But right now you are coughing up a lung and his hands are around your neck. 

He cuddles you, kissing your head as he bathes you in apologies. “I’m sorry, birdie. I was too rough, sorry, love.”

You shake your head, making him look down at your face, heart warming up when he sees a little mischievous smile on your mouth. “I liked it.” You say, voice hoarse and scratched. 

Ghost chuckles behind you, crouching down to let a glass of water on your hands. “You were right, Captain. She is a little perver.” He jokes, dropping a kiss on your forehead. 

Hi my lovelies!! 💗💗

Only two more chapters to go to finish this series, and I dont know how to feel about it.

I only need to write the finale, and revise the next one, AAAAA so nervous.

Once I'm done with that I'll do a lot of blogkeeping so it is a lot more tidy because it is A MESS right now, and I want it to be easier to find everything I have written before adding more to the chaos.

TagList: @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @kayden666 @dumb12bvtch1212 @thatonepupkai @darkangel4121 @cassiecasluciluce @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tired-writer04 @evolutionarry @prettykinkysoul @pagesfalling @skyler-loves-rick-grimes @readerofallthingss @onewattson6529 @mynameismothra  @renabear88 @lolliepopsicle @reap3erslov3 @tooloudarts @sodavrr @anirok2 @lilliumrorum @ladyxtiger @multy-fandom-lover @thriving-n-jiving @lotionlamp @spicyspicyliving @xxeiraxx @vampirekilmerfic @keiraslayz @risingofjupiter @witchthewriter @soupinasock @phantomly27 @arbesa-mind  @multifandomheathenannie  @spadekip @cmbghost @herefor-tojis-tits @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe @cassiecasluciluce

[bellarkeselection]

Halstead’s Favorite Duo

Anonymous request - Can you do a Jay Halstead x reader, where they are married and she is part of the K-9 unit? Maybe they called her in or something to help chase down a suspect.

My boots hit the ground as fast as I could to keep up with my first best friend for I wish I could say my whole life. Yet I have only known this dog since I joined the K-9 unit that works with the Chicago Police Department. My German shepherd dog ran forward on the heels of the man that was running from us. The man we were after was a drug cartel that they had been hunting for months. “Ryder! Attack.” I commanded him before he launched himself through the glass store window.

The guy we were chasing tried to run to the back of the store but he tripped over a shopping cart giving Ryder the opportunity to tackle him to the ground. Stepping over the broken window glass I draw my gun from my belt pointing it at the guy. “Y/n, Ryder! Are you guys okay?”

“We’re fine, Jay. Ryder ain’t too bad at his job. Ryder, come here.” I smiled seeing my husband coming around the corner lowering his gun when he saw the situation.

Ryder snarled at the guy on the ground keeping his tail still when we were out in the field. Otherwise he would let it actually wag when he was happy. Jay bent down on a knee after putting his gun away, grabbing the guy off the floor and handcuffing him. “You’re under arrest for smuggling drugs across the border. Take him back to the station.” He handed him off to one of the other local officers.

“You did good, boy.” Dropping down on a knee in front of my dog he started moving his tail wagging it since it was just me and Jay alone with him. “So how much paperwork does this leave you with tonight. I can order take out if you want if you’ll be home later.”

He shakes his head walking back to one of the squad cars having me and Ryder following his heels like we did every morning when we all had to leave the apartment. “Hailey said she would take care of it. I actually had something else in mind.”

“Oh really. Care to share what you had in mind?” I smirked knowing that he wouldn’t give it up even if I asked the question but I did it anyway.

Jay sent me a glare. “It didn’t work on our first date and it still won’t work now.” I nudged him and he chuckled before Ryder barked signaling that he wanted into our conversation.

“That means he doesn’t want to be left out of whatever mystery thing you have planned. And you agreed to take me in every way that includes my doggy.” I responded to him.

Jay and I had gotten married a few years ago. I had just been promoted to chief of my unit. Vioet was the man to help me get it after he had seen my history with Ryder and the amount of cases we helped crack down compared to the other k-9 unit members. Jay opened the door letting my dog jump into the backseat shutting the door once he was in. We both got in the car and removed our bullet proof vests and he started the drive looking my way a few times. “Do you remember the day we met?”

“Of course I do. I got injured on an assignment and the doctors at the hospital your brother Will works at wouldn’t let Ryder inside my room. So he started losing it and breaking things. If it wasn’t for you I was sure Ryder would have bit Will’s leg.” I snorted running a hand down my face thinking back on that night.

Jay smiled, shaking his head. “Yeah but he and I have the same goal to protect you…and love you.”

“So where are we going exactly? I mean it’s kind of strange that you are asking about the day we met. We’re already married. What else could we possibly do?” I shifted in my seat bouncing up and down with the tension of waiting.

Jay didn’t stop the car for another few minutes, parking the car outside of a house that was painted a light blue on the outside and it had a gray roof. He let Ryder out of the backseat first before coming over to my side and helping me out. “The surprise is that this place is now ours.”

“Are you serious, Jay!” I gasped covering my mouth with my hands spinning around to face him since he was standing behind me.

He slipped the keys in my hands. “It’s our. I am not lying to you. I got it all set up a few weeks ago. That way we aren’t cramped in an apartment and this gives Ryder a space to run when he wants to.”

“I love you.” I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him slowly.

Ryder barks running towards the front door just as Jay wraps his arms around my waist tugging me closer to deepen the kiss until he breaks it not being able to hold in his chuckle. “I love you too…and Ryder seems to approve.”

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[callsign-dexter]

Unraveling Desires

Request: Ohhhh those are great! ❤️

39. "Another kiss like that and I won't be held responsible for my actions." with Tim Bradford pleeeease 😊

Prompt: Another kiss like that and I won't be held responsible for my actions.

Pairings: Tim Bradford x Police K-9 Officer!Wife!Reader

Warnings:

Kiss Prompts

Masterlist

You and Tim had known each other for a while now and awhile means that you both are married and have been for 5 years. You two truly loved each other and wouldn’t trade each other for other people. You two were happy with each other and you wouldn’t change that for anything. The both of you sometimes had the same shift and while he was with a trainee you were out on your own and loving it you were also a K-9 handler, you absolutely adored Lucy Chen and she was a good friend you also have her dirt on Tim that she could use against him. When he found out you were doing this you usually got it when he saw you next but you weren’t complaining.

It just happened that you both had the same shift this time and you loved it because you could tease your husband and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. You had just woken up to the sound of your alarm going off. You laid there in a bed for a few minutes watching your husband sleep and then smirked when a brilliant idea came to your mind. You leaned over and snuggled into him and then you slowly started to kiss him. First you started at the shell of his ear and then slowly made your way down his neck. He started to stir but had yet to wake up. You smirked and continued your attack and you slowly started to kiss his shirtless chest and trailing your hand up and down his stomach getting close to where you knew he needed you the most but you didn’t. You started to kiss down his sternum and then to his stomach and right before you got to his underwear started you looked up and noticed him looking at you and you smiled “Good morning.” You said and then got up and strutted to the bathroom and you could just see the look on his face.

“Hey, get over here and finish what you started.” He said sitting up on his elbows and you turned around with your toothbrush in your hand.

“What if I don’t?” You asked after you spit out the toothpaste and rinsed out your mouth. Then crawled into bed and startled him. He smirked and then flipped you over where he was now straddling you and he started kissing you.

“You’ll find out.” He said and then kissed you and trailed down until he got to your pajama pants and then stopped and then looked up and smirked then got off and started to get ready for the day.

“Fucking tease.” You said and he smirked.

“You started it, wife.” He said 

“Oh, it’s on, husband.” You said and the both of you got ready. Where he changes at the station you don’t since you have your K-9 partner, Rocky. Once changed you walked out of the bedroom to where Rocky was kenneled and let him out. You let him out and then fed him. When you got done Tim had walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, Rocky greeted him and then you were handing him his coffee cup.

“Wanna try and meet up for lunch?” You asked him and he nodded.

“You know I do; everyone loves seeing you and Rocky.” He said and at the sound of his name the Mahogany colored Belgian Malinois perked up and barked at his name and you and Tim laughed. You walked over to where you kept his stuff and got his collar that said ‘POLICE K-9 DO NOT TOUCH’ you called him over and spoke the command to sit in German and he did so and you clipped the collar on. You then slipped his bullet proof vest on. Tim looked at you in awe. He loved it when you spoke a different language. “You two have a good day. Rocky, you protect our girl.” He said and he barked as if saying ‘You got it!’ and then walked over and kissed you and you kissed back and off you went with your loyal partner out the door and into the K-9 police cruiser. Normally all police cars had to stay at the station but K-9 handlers were allowed to take theirs home because they have to transport their animal.

You drove to the station to check in and start your day. The drive was pretty quick and you made it there in no time just about the time your husband pulled in at the same time and you rolled your eyes. You parked your cruiser in the designated parking spot and got out letting Rocky out at the same time. Tim walked over and waited for you. “Were you tailing us?” You asked with a hint of playfulness in your voice.

“Now why would I do that?” He asked and then pecked you on the lips and you pushed him away.

“We’re at work.” You said but smirked because you and he knew that you didn’t care. 

“Your point is?” He asked and you shook your head and the both of you started your walk in. You had different bosses since you were in different departments but it was on the same floor. You once again parted ways while he got dressed and you went to check in with your boss. Once you were done you walked by the briefing room and smirked seeing your husband sitting there and when he caught sight of Rocky, he looked at you and smiled and then you were on your way. Wade Grey caught this but didn’t say anything. Both you and Tim were well respected in both of your departments and they knew not to mess with you. 

By the time they were out on the road you had been out for at least 30 minutes and when you heard them check in you smirked “Time to have some fun.” You said and got on the radio. “About time you guys got to work.” You said and waited for a response and Tim was the first.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” Tim asked 

“I am. Been working for about 30 minutes now.” You said with a smirk and you could just see him roll his eyes. It was silent for about 10 minutes then Lucy came over the radio. The over the radio banter went back and forth. You all answered some calls and some you ended up together on. Nolan, Jackson, Angela, and Talia loved you and when they saw you and Rocky in action they were always in awe. After the call Tim met you at your cruiser leaning up on it. 

“You’re so sexy when you’re in action.” He said and you rolled your eyes but smiled as you put Rocky into his built-in kennel and you left the door open.

“So are you.” You replied and he smirked just then another call came in for a K-9 unit and you responded and then turned to your husband “Duty calls.” You said and closed Rocky’s door and hopped into the driver's side and headed off to the call. The call involved some tracking but, in the end, you got the suspect. 

Lunch time rolled around and you met Tim and the others at the usual place and went and sat with them while taking Rocky with you so he could stretch his legs. “Y/N how do you keep this man in line?” Angela asked with a smirk and Tim rolled his eyes and you laughed.

“It's easy. I just withhold sex. Works like a charm every time.” You said and they laughed with you while he rolled his eyes but he knew it was true.

“Do you like working in the K-9 department?” Nolan asked and you smiled and nodded.

“I love it. Rocky here is my companion and he listens and doesn’t talk back.” You said and they laughed.

“Hey, I listen.” Tim said 

“Yes, but you also talk back sometimes.” You said and he rolled his eyes “Love you.” You spoke

“I love you too.” He replied

“How did you meet?” Lucy asked 

“I actually met Tim on a call and he was so impressed by Rocky and I that he asked me out and the rest is history.” You said and before they could respond your radio went off requesting K-9 back-up and you responded and off you and Rocky went. 

You didn’t see any of them again for the rest of the day and night. The next time you saw Tim was when he had gotten home and you were already home. You had already changed and had dinner going when he walked through the door. “There’s my sexy wife.” He said and you smiled and walked over and wrapped his arms around your hips.

“And there is my handsome husband.” You said turning your head to kiss him. “How was your day?” You asked him when you released each other from the kiss.

“Long. Had a lot more calls this time.” He said “Yours?” He asked going to fridge and opening it to grab two beers and petting Rocky’s head.

“It was good. We had a lot of calls too and some traffic stops.” You said and he nodded and took the beer when he offered it.

“Nobody got hurt?” He asked and you shook your head.

“Nope, just the suspects that decided to hide or run.” You said chuckling and so did he. You turned off the stove “Supper is ready.” You said and he grabbed two plates and handed you one. You both got your plates and went and sat down and began to eat.

Supper was eaten in a comfortable setting with some talking about anything and everything. It was done you went over and startled his lap and kissed him with passion and fire and he responded. When you pulled away his pupils were blown and you had no doubt yours was too. “Another kiss like that and I won't be held responsible for my actions.” He said and a smirk grew on your face and you kissed him again with the same ferocity as the first kiss and he knew what you wanted. He got up quickly knocking the chair over and then started for the bedroom planning on finishing what you both started that morning. You were in for a long night and you were so ready for it and so was he.

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[yawnderu]

K-9 — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Chapter III

Sick as a dog, and just as vicious.

1 2 3 4 5

You work magic with your hands

Or

The human body is able to withstand extreme damage.

"Medic!" Price's voice boomed across base, heavy footsteps following right after. The door slammed open before you could even get up, Gaz and Simon carrying a bloodied Soap. They set him down on the medical bed and you got up, rushing to them and examining the damage.

It's incredible, really, how the human body can withstand extreme conditions and stay resilient, such as a gunshot that had blood leaking out of Johnny's head like a faucet.

"Out. With me, Simon." You bark out orders and the men obey, Price patting your shoulder twice, the look in his eyes saying much more than words. Fix him.

"Apply pressure on the wound." Simon nods his head, quickly discarding his skull gloves as his bare hands apply pressure on Johnny's chest to limit the blood loss. You felt a weak pulse earlier, yet the sound of the EKG machine as soon as you hook him up served as reassurance. You immediately put on your gloves, not bothering to hook him up to an IV to avoid wasting time. His heartbeat is weak, but he's still here.

Your hands get to work immediately as Simon begins to treat the wound on Johnny's chest, a much simpler injury than the bullet in his head. You bring the light closer to his head, able to make out the familiar glint of the bullet encrusted in his brain.

Twelve hours. That's how long it took to complete surgery on Johnny to remove the bullet in his head and stabilize him. He's a lucky motherfucker; the base of his brain and spinal cord being completely untouched, allowing him to be part of the 10% of people who have survived a headshot.

Your knees give out right after you make sure Johnny is all covered up, exhaustion and stress along with the disappearing adrenaline finally catching up to you. Strong arms wrap around your torso to prevent you from falling— Simon, who refused to leave your office, staying awake those twelve hours in case his help was needed.

"With you, lass." He reminds you, helping you stand up and guiding you to your chair, crouching down to get a better look at you.

"Need a cuppa?" He asked gently, the back of his hand making contact with your forehead to check for your temperature.

"Fucking brits..." You grumble, tired eyes looking down at him, the way his gaze softens and the corners of his mouth tilt up into a small smile, a deep laugh escaping out of his lips for a second.

"Some coffee?" You nod your head, hands going under your glasses to gently rub your eyes as you struggle to stay awake. He gets up, hand on your shoulder squeezing softly to make you look up at him.

"I'll go tell that lot Johnny made it, think you can stay awake until they're here?" His words had hints of teasing despite the concern in his eyes, only turning away once you nodded your head. You got up from the chair, walking over to the medical bed and looking at Johnny's unconscious body. His heart beat was stable, at the very least.

"I miss you, Johnny." Your hand reaches out to hold his, squeezing softly before you bring it to your lips and plant a soft kiss on his knuckles, slowly putting his hand back on his stomach. As annoying as he can be, he feels like a younger brother, someone you'd lay down your own life for with no hesitation, though that secretly goes for the rest of the team.

You take a step back when you hear footsteps approaching, pretending to fix the new IV injected to him.

"Doc." Price greets, walking over to you and looking down at Johhny. Bruised and bloody, but alive.

"Knew I made the right choice with you." His heavy hand pats your shoulder, managing to offer you a smile despite all the stress he was in, not knowing whether or not one of his boys was going to make it.

"I'm honored, Captain." He could hear the appreciation under the layer of sarcasm.

"I don't know when he's going to wake up, but there wasn't any damage on the frontal lobe or top of the brain, so probably not gonna have brain damage either... not that it'd make much of a difference." You drift off, eyebrows furrowing slightly as you think back on the twelve hours that just passed, the deep chuckle escaping the captain turning your attention back to him.

"Good. Go rest, Gaz and I will take turns watching over him." You simply nod, turning away to leave and patting his arm gently as you walk past. A small smirk sets on your lips when you feel the muscle, quickly leaving the office and going to your quarters. You barely manage to remove the bloodstained white coat before you collapse in bed, any thoughts about what happened and the coffee Simon was making for you completely forgotten as you finally drift off to sleep.

[PREVIOUS] [NEXT]

[machveil]

May I perhaps procure Konig meeting his S/O's puppy and being all "Eeeeee a P u p p y!" and being all giggly and happy to meet the baby

Boyfriend!König who’s never been to your home before. he’s giddy when you casually say to come in after your date night. what he didn’t expect was the small puppy that came crashing into his ankle

Boyfriend!König whose brain short circuits when this tiny thing starts sniffing his boots, lapping at his pants. he snaps back to reality when a small bark leaves the puppy - much too cute for it’s own good

immediately steps up as dog dad - “Have you seen my son? Look at this picture. [puppy napping on König’s chest]”. if you loved your puppy, Boyfriend!König is in love with your puppy! gets stupidly happy when the puppy comes to greet him first when you both enter your apartment eventually

Boyfriend!König will cancel meetings to take your puppy to the vet if you can’t, “They can wait, Maus. He takes priority.”. …takes the puppy for Pup Cups all the time, he loves holding the cup and letting the puppy go to town

Boyfriend!König that buys a red collar and leash for your puppy to match his bracelet— I mean, of course he buys you a matching bracelet too… he just didn’t think of that first. but you can’t be mad at him, he’s so in love with this dopey puppy that clambers onto his lap, clumsy paws tripping over his thighs when König sits on your couch

Boyfriend!König whose favorite thing is pulling his mask up slightly so the puppy can see him. happily chuckles when the puppy angles up under his mask to lap at his chin. suffers from cuteness aggression, he can’t wait for the puppy to get all big so he can lovingly roughhouse with them. he’ll settle for tug of war right now

Boyfriend!König that brags to his teammates that he’s a father, “Ja, my son is so klein.”. he finds himself stopping by the K-9 unit at KorTac more often when he misses his puppy

[countdogulous]

All of the GIFs I made of the new BOJD that Emily posted SO FAR because this run has DONE IRREVERSIBLE DAMAGE TO ME (AFFECTIONATE)

[fluentmoviequoter]

Tim Through the Years - Meet the Class

Series Masterlist

Summary: Tim meets your class of 25 five-year-olds. 1.2k+ words.

“Hey, can I run something by you?” you asked Tim while you were having lunch at his desk.

Tim looked up at you mid-bite of his shared sandwich. He chewed quickly and asked, “Of course, is everything okay?”

You softly bit your lip. “Yes. I know you aren’t a fan of community outreach, but will you come to my class and talk about safety and what to do in an emergency?”

Tim gave you his million-dollar smile “I’d be more than happy to come and talk to your class. I get to spend a whole morning with a beautiful lady.” He leans over and kisses you. “I also get the added bonus of being away from Lucy, too.”

You shoved him slightly. “I think you like the latter more.”

“Hey, that’s police brutality. I might have to handcuff you to this desk all day and then you’ll have to hang out with me.” Tim smiled as he spoke.

“Aw! You two are just so cute!” Lucy said when she walked up to the desk.

“Hi Lucy, how are you?” you turned and asked her.

“I’m doing well! Do you think we can have a girls night with me, you, Angela, Nyla and Bailey? We could go paint pottery or watch a movie or go laser tag or…." Before Lucy could finish, Tim sent her a glare.

“Can I help you with something, Officer Chen?” Tim growled out.

“Our suspect is ready to talk,” Chen said to Tim.

“I’ll see you later,” Tim told you as he kissed the top of your head.

“Bye Tim! Bye Lucy! We definitely have to get together soon!”

You wave them off as you pack up and leave. 

You paced back and forth before school started, waiting on Tim to arrive. You were extremely nervous because your students, while awesome, were very protective of you. They’ve stopped a presentation before because the man who was talking about his job told the class that they could do better than being a teacher. The poor guy got booed and slightly bullied by the group of 5-year-olds, so you just hope that today goes over well. Tim texted you to let you know that he would be a little late due to the fact he saw a crime being committed right in front of him.

When the bell finally rang, your group of students walked into the classroom all chatting away with each other. They put their bags up and sat down in the respective seats (it took a while for them to get down). 

“Good morning everyone!” you tell the class when the second bell rang.

“Good Morning Miss. Winchester!” they responded. 

You started the morning off with doing some freeze dance to get the kids ready to start the day. When that was done, you picked up right where you left off from yesterday. Some students still shouted out answers, but others would remember and raised their hands. You found it adorable how much they enjoy getting to learn. Soon, there was a knock at the door. 

“Class, we have a very special guest today who is going to talk to us about safety.” You walked up to the door, you let Tim and, to your surprise, two more officers in.

“IS THAT A DOG?!?!?!” a student named Ashley shouted.

All the students erupted in excitement, and you had to use your quiet hand gesture to try and settle the class as Tim, a K9 officer, and a small dog walked up to the front of the class. 

“Class, Meet Sergeant Bradford from the LAPD,” you announced to the students.

“Good morning, students, as you heard, I’m Sergeant Bradford, and today I’m talking about safety. Firstly, I brought two special guests with me, Officer Stan with his K-9 Officer Fuzz.”

Officer Stan smiled and greeted the students as Officer Fuzz, a small dachshund, barked excitedly as a greeting.

“I brought Officer Fuzz in today so you can understand what a K-9 is used for and when to approach one,” Tim explained.

“Officer Fuzz is used like any other police officer; he helps us find bad guys and can catch bad guys faster than we can. Officer Fuzz can run up to 20 miles per hour, so we typically send him in to run after someone. Officer Fuzz also helps smell out bad stuff for us to take away. You can approach a police dog at any time with permission from the Officer. If you do see a police dog chasing after someone or he looks angry, do not approach. He could accidentally hurt you because he’s trying to protect his fellow officers or trying to stop someone,” Officer Stan explained. “Any questions?”

Lots of hands flew into the air, so you called on a girl named Hanna to ask the first question. “Does Officer Fuzz stay at the station all the time?”

“That’s a great question! No, Officer Fuzz is technically my dog. So, when I get off work, he gets to go home and be with me. He also goes in when I do, so just like me, Officer Fuzz gets to be a normal dog when he’s not working,” Stan said.

The students continued their questions about Officer Fuzz and his handler. Before Officer Stan had to leave to go back to work, he released Officer Fuzz so he could run around and receive pets from everyone. Officer Fuzz ran up to you last and laid on his back for belly rubs.

“Aren’t you the cutest?” You bent down and gave the tail-wagging dog belly rubs.

“You might have some competition, Bradford,” Stan said with a smile and slightly nudged Tim. Stan called back Officer Fuzz and they both left with waves of goodbyes and a huge “Thank you!” from your students.

“Hello again! I want to tell everyone what to do if they feel unsafe or lost. If you get away from your mommy or your daddy, find a store worker or an officer to help you find your mom or dad. If you are in danger or hurt, call 911 and we will do everything we can to help you. Do we have any questions?”

“What do you do as a Sergeant?” Logan, a young student, asked.

“I am everyone’s boss; I tell them what to do and make sure their job is getting done. I am currently training someone to become a police officer, they are called a Rookie,” Tim explained.

Your students asked as many questions as they could until the lunch bell rang, and the class let out a collective grown in disappointment. 

“Can we have lunch with Sergeant Bradford?” Wade asked, and the other students jumped in to agree.

“I don’t think Sergeant Bradford can stay any longer, he does have to leave at some point,” you said softly.

“I can stay for lunch,” Tim said with a smile. The class cheered and you sent them to get their lunches and to have a private moment with Tim.

“You didn’t have to stay,” you said to Tim as you looked up at him.

“I’m more than happy to. Your students are wonderful,” Tim said with a smile, and kissed the top of your head.

“Did Miss Winchester fix your heart?” Johnny asked Tim, startling both of you. 

Tim smiled and looked at you. “Yeah, she did,” he answered, which caused you to blush.

Johnny’s eyes got all big and he quickly ran out to the other students.

“Guys!!!! Sergeant Bradford is Miss. Winchester’s husband!!”

You then hear a loud scream of joy and all the students running in to ask the both of you a million questions about this new revelation. It was going to be a very long afternoon. 

[kthecritter]

Welcome to my kin care blog!

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[the-entitie]

COD men x K-9 Unit male reader

Part 1 | Part 2》》

A/n: I can speak three languages, only one of which borrow German words, so forgive me for shitty translations. I'm from the RSA, so you know. Not any of the boys hometown.

Reader works with a K-9 unit and his partner is called Mutt who is a mix breed of Alaskan Akita and Doberman(Mutt is also a service dog as reader has paranoia and C-PTSD). Readers call sign is Riot. The 141 boys needed help tracing a terrorist and John called in some favors to bring Riot and Mutt into the field. He helped the Los Vaqueros as well.

After the mission back at base, the reader interacts with the men, and they end up interacting with him.

Reader is referred to as you or Riot.

Mentions of panic attacks, anxiety attacks, C-PTSD, war, and / or war related violence. Unhealthy coping mechanisms, past trauma. Death of a family member. Torture, scars, and flashbacks.

Left: American Akita and Right: Long-haired Doberman

John Price: (740 words)

-He met you first, saw you first. Hell, he verified your file so he knew of your old teammates that turned because of the torture, and he knew of the many years you spent MIA. He also knows what you did to get out. So he keeps you close and keeps an eye on you. He's the one who needs to clear you for this recon mission. It will be his fault if another team mate goes rogue. -It only take him a few minutes to see how much you actually relay on Mutt, it takes him days to see its not reliance, no the two of you act in a cemented trust between you two. From the interactions at home base to the way you both move like a well oiled machine on the field, it doesn't take a genius to see that Mutt is a deadly force with training that makes the hound that much more dangerous. Price comes face to face with that realization when he sees just how far Mutt can throw a soldier four times their size. And Mutt came up to his thighs, mind you. -Time and space are all Price really needed to trust you completely. He knew how you acted with Mutt, and therefore, he knew how you would act around a team you trust. It doesn't take him long to see its not only Mutt who reacts to you. You react just as much based on your K-9. Price nearly shoots you when you call out to Mutt because you didn't whistle for the hound. You howled, and he could hardly tell it apart from the wild dogs he's heard out in the desert. He didn't even understand what the fuck you where doing until he heard something answer you, in the same rumbling call. It took a lot more time to get used to those kinds of noises from you. He could expect them from Mutt but not when it's you who makes them -Both of you were exhausted, been about three long days on your feet with little sleep, that's when he asks you how you make the sounds Mutt does. Hell he even starts trying to learn them just to know how you and you K-9 partner work better. "So I just cup my hands and what now Riot? I Grunt?" "No," you laugh at him, he doesn't feel patronized by it, "you hold your hands around your mouth and just bark, makes it echo like a dog." He sounded more like a mountain lion then canine when he actually gave it a try. You teach him how to pitch it up a bit, and how to drag the call out properly. "And you don't use your hand because?" "Because I'm used to it, and can make the 'echo' without my hands. I still do when I howl. Look." A few nights pass before he uses it to scare a tango shitless out side of the enemy base. He doesn't admit it but he likes 'talking' to the local wild dogs with you. He even enjoys hearing you and Mutt go off at each other because it means your both alive and still here. -Out side of the field and when you two go out to roam the town at the dead of night, he comes to see that the canine noises you and Mutt share gives you peace. The kind he used to find in cigars and smoke. He gets it, he knows that some people just have a vice. When you find him smoking alone behind his own home, he shrugs it off and blames it on the smoke detectors. He doesn't say that he stops to make your K-9 more comfortable in his home. He doesn't stop smoking but he tries to avoid it for your sake. You only corner him around a day or so to thank him. He won't admit to the red flaring up on his ears, but he tells you to drop it. -If he's ever the one who finds you when your having an attack, he will guard you. Get you safe and comfortable then he will become a gruff mother bear and be completely over protective of you. He only calms down when he sees that Mutt already does that, and he learns what can help you, what to look out for. He won't admit it though.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley: (734 words)

-Ghost didn't like you at first. or well he doesn't like anyone actually but he didn't like you. -You had a dog breed that was originally made for bear bating and he hated that he knew that. Even if you didn't get the hound because of that. Well, that and Mutt is constantly muzzled. It took you explaining it was required by law for him to try and ignore it. -But when he watches how fluidly you and Mutt work together, even seeing the raw fucking power that dog has when Mutt tackled an enemy to the ground, he starts to understand why you have to keep Mutt muzzled. Even if he didn't like it. -Simon has an ex-military dog at home so he knows how to act around an active working dog. He's the best to be around if you don't want people petting or trying to do anything really with your K-9 partner. -when at the base afterwards he sees that the dog isn't just a working dog but acts like you service dog. Everything from crowd control to doing small tasks for you on the daily. To siting between your legs when you have your back to anyone when doing a task to protect you. Mutt will even start doing this quiet sort of 'rueff' sound that will make you get out of where ever you are without any fanfare, you will just disappear. -He only finds out why a lot later. He feel kind of stupid for missing it after the fact. -Its the scars that cross your back and over your shoulders, the hitches of thick skin around your jaw. You are a torture survivor. So suddenly he gets it. Mutt is your safety, the dog wears a muzzle because your K-9 partner is also a person protection dog. -After he realized the why you stick to your partner so closely, he would begin to help Mutt protect you. He would stand ahead of you when Mutt would lay down to create space (crowd control). Ghost would watch your back and react with your partner to help you. -He takes his mask off when you two are either alone or when your are forced to show your scares he shows some of his to help you feel more comfortable. -you start to notice it, and at first you would try to stop him but eventually you just start protecting him back. You become more comfortable around him. Simon notices it to. -One day after a few days straight of being on your feet, both you and Simon end up passed out in his private quarters. Ghost wakes first to see Mutt cuddle against you and draped across him, when ever he tried to move the dog, they would just growl and to his utter amusement you growled back. -After that he gets you to 'talk' to Mutt any time he can, even on missions. - Ghost was the one who told you and Mutt to bark at each other to distract the enemy when on a recon mission. "Copy Riot, we need an in" "Need an in, copy. Any ideas for that L.t?" "Yeah, Riot go off and make some noise with Mutt" "Seriously?" "Yip, get going we need that data" You two got in, and yes you did start howling back and forth with Mutt in the echo trick wolves use. The enemy thought they were surrounded by cayotes. -When you eventually cuddle up with Ghost again, and Mutt yips or growls at you and you make the noise back, Simon will growl at you. It becomes a games between you to, even doing it as call outs outside of coms. Soap complains about wild dogs once and now Simon will get Mutt vocal just to fuck with Soap. -he starts calling you dog related nicknames, your name doesn't exist anymore. Call sign? only when necessary. You are now called with doggie names. He'll call out a, "Heh, Good boy" "Come on puppy you can speak" when you go dark on coms, or just when you don't answer him. Yes he will also say things like, "What ever you say Fido" -He makes you swear to never tell a soul that he also barks back at Mutt when you two are off duty. You caught him coping a growl when playing with Mutt once. -He gets Mutt and his las to meet. Now he also makes dog sounds with you on his down time, even without you much to his old girls delight.

John “Soap” Mactavish: (616 words)

-He loves your K-9 partner from the first time Price introduces you to the team, sure he tries to be professional but the second you let Mutt go off to play out of gear he just wants to give the hound so many pets. They are just so big and have that cute angry tilt to their face! Can you blame him. -when out on the field, he loves running with two of you on missions. The adrenaline and rush and just how much faster you two are than him. He loves it. -You end up doing it with him outside of missions after a while. Hiking out in mountains and secluded valleys, it's the first time he hears you howl with Mutt. The coyotes had started, yipping over whatever they killed lower down the ridge. Mutt, who was a few paces head, had paused to howl, without thinking you howl with them. Scares Soap but he just finds it fun. -Soap being so in love with Mutt leads to just being around you a lot. He starts learning what certain movements mean to you and your dog, how a sharp left with your hand was a call to draw back or how the shift of your stance meant to take the lead. It amazed him how well you read each other. -Then he sees how you act outside of the field, how Mutt still acted like a protector, and you kept mimicking the sounds Mutt made. Especially when you were more tired. He found it cute. Hell, he loved playing with Mutt, so when you made the hound more excited, he also got just as if not more excited. -Soap loves head scratches you find out when you two are off duty and hanging out. He's on the floor with Mutt and the hound he's cuddling wines before you reach down to comfort the dog with head scritches. You miss and pet Soap instead, beside being completely flustered, he asked you to do it again.  He just starts asking you to do it more and more before you start petting him the same way you pet over your hound. -Now you start with the dog related nicknames, even over coms. Much to Soaps embarrassment and the teams delight. He nearly buckles the first time you call him a good boy, and he does when you call him a good dog. Blames it on a miss step. -He loves, loves, loves listening to you, and Mutt yap back and forth, loves even more when you go to rough houses with growls and even try pining you down one. He fails, but he doesn't care. -Soap only catches one of your attacks when it's about sun down. You're both at his place standing in the kitchen when your shoulders suddenly hitch, but you continued on as normal. Until Mutt wandered over to you, they stopped dead before making a gruff noise and jumping up onto you. Instead of getting you secluded because, of course, the hound sees Soaps house as a safe space. And Mutt will get you down, force you to sit and lower your head. "Woh, n'er knew em ta jump? Wait shit. ROIT!" He'll be right there next to you, knows what to do because of Ghosts episodes on recons. "What's it, lad? What can I do ta help 'im?" -You don't really talk about it. Sure, you explain what it was and why Mutt did that, but not the why it happened. It takes a while to admit that the scares you hide are the reason for that attack. He gets it he does, and now? Mother fucker will do dumb shit to distract you, or just talk and talk and talk. It helps, he knows it helps.

König: (764 words)

-Being a sniper, he likes the added security, the extra eyes to help watch his back. Sure, he doesn't trust you per say but he tries to be friendly none the less. -He had no idea what Mutt was trained for until he saw the both of you take down someone who made it to his vantage point. He saw how you moved like Mutt was an extension of yourself, that's how you earn his respect. -König didn't know why you had so many commands for Mutt, but most of them were cues or just situational. Most of all, the verbal commands you use are in Russian and Dutch so he can understand some of the tasks you ask Mutt to do . It kind of scares him that Mutt would know which trail was a friend and which person wasn't. He stands by that fear when he watches you set them off on a run away target. -He will only admit to himself that both you and Mutt look way to good covered in the gore from that attack. -You had to explain that that kind of training meant your partner had to be muzzled. You both get to talking that night, swapping stories of close calls, and König shyly showed you the star splattered scar on his jaw. Lifting his hood up just enough to see it before hurriedly drooping it back down. You share a few of the worse days you had as a call in search and riot guard and snippets of the scars covering your throat. -Habits begin forming. König will be a silent wall between you and crowds while Mutt would start alerting to his anxiety attacks as well. You made a joke about borrowing Mutt to him on the days off. He didn't understand the first time Mutt barked at him in a weird gruff tone before jumping up and doing it again. It's when you get him secluded and safe that you explain it to him. "Its called signaling. They can tell you when these things are going to happen or are actively happening. " "So it's to let me know?" "Yeah, for me, it's when I'm going to either for a flash back or when my paranoia forces me into a panic attack." "Flash back?" "Yes, remember that sister I told you about." -It took days for you to actually relay that story to him. How your team abandoned you, how the enemy held your sisters head above your bloody form. You explained how that caused phantom pains or flashbacks and how crippling that can be some days. -He becomes your solace after that. He would be there when you needed it. Keep people away when you couldn't look at anyone. He even began listening to Mutts alerts. He even lets you help him through the easier ones. -König called you one night when you both were off for the next few days. You could tell by the shake on his breath what was happening before he could tell you. That was when you showed him how Mutt does decompression therapy, the hound big enough to help ground him. You stayed that night, even teaching König some of the commands you use to tell Mutt how to help you. He's quick to learn them as some phrases are Dutch that you use so he can catch the meaning of some commands. -You don't call him until a long while later. It's on a mission while you two are hunkered down after a botched extraction. Or well, Mutt calls him. "Riot? Are you, Oh Scheiße! 「Shit」" "wat 「what」, ag. What can I do? Dir helfen 「Help you」, how can I help. Please let me help you. " -He ended up holding how so you couldn't hurt yourself in these attacks. It didn't feel as entrapped as you thought it would. König is so much bigger than you, but it's like he makes a physical barrier between you and the world. He helps your partner make you feel safe. It's hard to explain to anyone why your panic attacks act like that, why your mind needs pain to calm from feeling like you're dying. König will explain how his attacks can feel suffocating, and that's why his jaw and throat are so bruised most days. -Between one mission and the next, you start showing off things you and Mutt can do to him, like Mutt retrieving throne knives or how the hound can trace any sent it knows for miles. -You only bark back at Mutt one night when trapped in a safe house. Neither of you could find each other, and mutt had run off

Alejandro Vargas: (720 words)

-Learning of the terrorist stationed so close to los vaqueros' home base, Alejandro was quick to reach out. The 141 had helped him before, so he was surprised to learn of the newer recruit they called in to help them. Alejandro told Price to just bring you along. They needed the extra help honestly, as much as he refused to trust any of 141 purely on principle. They needed the help. -He met you with Ruddy on the roof of the office building, and he asked the polit to land on. When you dropped from the helicopter with the others. Mutt held to your chest before being deposited on the ground. He's seen how some of the other search and rescue units who have K-9's, but he's never seen anyone who works with their hound like you do. Alejandro is both grateful and terrified to have you fighting with him.  -Seeing you and Mutt outside the field was even more intriguing. How the two of you reacted perfectly to each other, he saw a bit of himself and Rudy in the way you two work like a well-oiled machine. He tried to play nice, be kind and calm, but when shit hit the fan? He drops it. Its only been a week before you use the recall command on Mutt to level the man they needed to interrogate. Both of you were forced to hunker down in a safe house, Alejandro making the bound man walk with little success. He asked for your help not long after the son had dipped down.  "Think he will talk?" "Not willingly if that file you circulated was true." "Any ideas?" "You aren't scared of loud noises, are you?" "Not really, why?" -When you said you could help, this isn't what he was expecting, but it was working. You had taken to standing behind the tied down guy, and whenever Alejandro could sound even remotely frustrated,  you would call out to Mutt before the dog would lunge with a snarl or harsh bark. Scared the man shitless, and he would mumble about 'de-ablo' or 'deamons' on and off. When things got too harsh, or either of you were cornered, he watched in equal parts horror and delight as you let Mutt cull those surrounding you all. Watch as you both kill together just as well as you work together. -It eventually became a joke, the whole you being a dog or sounding like one. Even when the two of you left the safe house. Hell, he started talking to you like he would your dog. Started to tease you with the same command you used on your hound. "Come on, Roit, I know you can beg better than that." "Here, cachorro cachorro cachorro [puppy puppy puppy]!" "Such a good boy, you want a treat?" "There we go, Good perro. Now sit for me." Even saying he kept treats for when you were especially well behaved. If you didn't also start laughing along he wouldn't have kept doing it and actually started keeping 'treats' on hand for you on the late nights you two would just talk on and on about nothing and everything. -Being back at the base and left to your devices, he started asking about everything Mutt could do. He would ask if you could also do the tricks and inquire about the ones you could. "Wait cariño, you can howl?" "Yeah. Wanna hear me?" "Oh more than anything." "hhhm, maybe I'll do it later." "I'm happy to beg you, but I think you would sound better begging me, cariño." "I don't beg Alejandro." "You will. And you'll sound so good doing it." "Try me," -He loved hearing you talk to Mutt. Just waiting up at night to listen to the back and forth of barking and yips that echo across the open land. Whether from far away or not, he loved it. -Alejandro is the worst when either of you get hurt. He is the worst flirt, and he lays the dog related teasing on twice as thick. Not only is Rudy swearing him out in broken Spanish, but you don't help either. Doing anything to help him stay conscious or playing along to distract yourself from the pain. Even Mutt begins to see him as safe.

More COD Boys x K-9 unit reader 》》》》

[butchsophiewalten]

Twitter Space Recap July 28th 2024

Last Sunday Martin, Eva, Kyle did a Twitter Space, with intermittent appearances from Coral! Here are some of the Q&A answers and other interesting things they talked about:

-Someone asks if TWF5 is going to be longer or shorter than TWF4, and Martin says that he currently predicts it to be "a bit longer".

-Somebody asks how Laura Peony (Rosemary's sister) looks. He says that she looks similar to Rose, probably, but that he honestly doesn't have much of a design in mind for her. Something fun to me is that he calls her "Sophie's aunt", rather than calling her Rosemary's sister, which is interesting when remembering one of Martin's previous statements that Rosemary doesn't have a very good relationship with her family.

-Someone asks about something Martin said in a Q&A a while ago, about Jenny going through many redesigns before her current and final design, and if we could see any of them. Eva ends up sharing one of Martin's old drawings of one of these designs, even though Martin says that he really hates it.

He mentions that she looks "too normal" and that she "looks like she's straight."

-Someone asks, "Who or what was the thing behind Bon and Sha in the TV in TWF2?" and Martin answers that it's Susan. (slowed gif relevant)

-Someone asks about how the Relocate Project trio all met each other, and Martin explains how in his original vision for the characters, they were this really close and inseparable group of long-time friends, but that he's recently kinda revised that idea, thinking it'd be more realistic if they were just work friends, who met each other through their jobs and all had full, separate lives and maybe weren't so inseparably close.

-Someone asks how old Kevin is in TWF2, and Martin explains that the relocate trio's ages are something that he's kinda retconned. He brings up an old image of Ashley that gets passed around by the fanbase sometimes which says she'd be 19 years old in 1978, saying that in his mind now, she'd be 22 at the time. He says "-and there's a reason for this, there's a reason for this. There are things about, uh, Ashley, and some things about the rest of the episode 2 crew that we haven't seen yet."

-Martin and Eva joke back and forth about an idea they both like, which is that Bon can create or mimic noises with his animatronic voice box, and that he likes to do stuff like bark and people in K-9, just to freak them out. Martin says, "Wait, did you know that this actually happens, in one of the episodes? In episode 2, Bon fucking plays rabbit noises, to mess with Ashley. When the lights go out, Bon-- he's imitating a rabbit."

-Martin says, "Somebody asked if the baby doll we see in Souvenir and TWF4 will have meaning in the future. Ah, yes it will."

-Someone asks, "Are we gonna get wholesome Rosemary content in the upcoming episodes?" and Martin and the rest of the crew shoot the shit for awhile, alluding ironically to the torment (emotional and otherwise) she will almost certainly be met with in the upcoming episode.

-Martin mentions that he's working on something related to TWF7, and says, "I genuinely think that episode 7 is going to be the most hated episode of The Walten Files ever. I've talked about this with Eva before." Martin and Eva refer to it sneakily as the "yuri" episode, and we know from previous Q&As and spaces that TWF7 is most likely going to be about Sophie and Jenny's relationship, possibly detailing how they met. Martin says, "I think- it's not because of what is in it [that it will be hated], it's more like, it's the least 'Walten Files' episode of The Walten Files."

Kyle says, "To be fair, I feel like season 2 is going to be such a tone shift and it's gonna do so much, that it's gonna be like, "Woah!" You're gonna send people back, like, 20 feet in surprise."

-Somebody asks if Jack is addicted to smoking, and if Felix gets on his ass about it. Martin says "I don't think Jack is addicted, I think Jack just smokes because he thinks smoking is cool. I wouldn't say addicted, but I'd say Rosemary smokes out of like, a place of, like, stress and anxiety. Instead of just as a hobby, in a way."

-Someone asks if Susan is skinny. Martin says, "I don't think Susan is very skinny, I would say Susan is more--" and Eva fills in with "Muscular..?" to which Martin replies, "Yeah, I was gonna say that, I couldn't find the right word. Yeah, considering she usually helps build the stuff, and shit like that, while Charles sits on his ass and stays on his computer all day, like a fucking lazy bitch. Just programming shit."

-Martin openly laments that Charles doesn't have more of a fanbase for him as in individual character. He goes, "Do I have to wait for the next two episodes to drop, so I can fucking have a Charles fandom? That's so sad."

-According to Kyle, Charles' favorite Sonic the Hedgehog character would be Knuckles. Martin says he doesn't know a lot about Sonic, but that Jack's favorite character would be Doctor Eggman, because he's the only human character.

-Martin and Eva talk for a bit about who would win in a fight between Bon and a bunch of different animatronic characters from Five Nights at Freddy's, with him losing terribly to most or all of them. Eva determines that he could definitely win against normal human William Afton, and Martin says he could, at least, probably win against The Puppet. Martin says, "Y'know how dogs grab, like, a toy? And shake it around? Bon just fucking bites-- and starts fucking shaking the animatronics around."

-Somebody asks, "Do Brian and Kevin know each other?" and Martin says, "No, they don't. I don't think Brian knows anybody from the rest of the series. Why would he?"

-Martin says, "I like to think- in the apartment [Jenny and Sophie] live in- It's really funny to me, the idea that Jenny knows everybody in the building and is friends with everybody, and Sophie isn't. Like, it's like, imagine in everyone else's perspective, its like 'Ohh, there's Jenny!', and she's like this really sweet person, and then there's just Sophie, this fucking-- this silent, weird girl that's always seen next to Jenny."

-Martin asks Eva, "What to you think of episode 7?" to which she replies, "It's very yuriful." He responds saying, "That's true." Eva later appends saying, "It's also a very good episode."

-Someone asks, "Will there be a Walten Files 5 & 6 trailer soon?" and Martin replies, "I have an idea for a trailer, but I know know if it's necessary, considering I don't want to show what happens in the episodes. I want people to go in completely blind."

-Eva reads a question that she likes, but is worried is too spoilery. "What's Sophie's relationship with her medication? Does she resent having to take it? Does Jenny know that she's on it?" Martin responds, "We cannot answer that. Because the medication Sophie's on will be expanded on." appends later going "I love how my original idea for Sophie's pills was like, it was never addressed it any way. It was just like, 'oh, she's just taking pills.'"

-Somebody asks about Hidie the Raccoon from the Showstoppers Cartoon, and Martin says that he's a burglar who pretends to be a collector for charity, but just steals the money.

-Someone asks about Madness Meridian. Martin says, "It was a book that was like, a more realistic version of The Walten Files. And it was like, 'what if The Walten Files was, like, completely made up by Sophie?', and it was like, it was really bad. And I remember I worked a lot in the book, but I lost it on an old computer, so."

-Someone asks if we're ever going to see the Showstoppers singing for real, instead of just performing over a preexisting song, and Martin says yes!

-Someone asks about the Findjackwalten page that was recently discovered, /jennyslair-dot-com-worldwideweb, which is currently password protected. Martin says that it will be a page soon, so the page's content is probably not currently meant to be accessed.

[ofherpinkways]

I҉̡̯̺̜̅́͋̃͢͜n̸͐̈́͟͟͝ M̶̶҉̳͈̺͟͢͠͠ͅȳ̸̵̩̜͔͍̔́͟͟͢͡ R̴҉̷̨̖̮̉͑ͯ̑̋͟͠o҉̢̡̲͇̌͗̀͢͝o҉̢̡̲͇̌͗̀͢͝m̴̵҉̸̲̗̰̼͗͌̃̇͟͟͟͠͞͠

( My friends and I giggle about how the "Love ", "In my room " part sounds like Stewie Griffin singingI tried my best yall - 🤍🩰🧸)

cod men x fem reader fic based off the song(Warnings blood,gore,violence,please beware of the lyrics as they may cause triggers)

*tap* *tap* *tap* "Are you gonna let me in ?*tap* Hello? Hello ? "

You died two years ago on a mission , just "simple" way to go , getting caught in the across fire. "Just the wrong place,wrong time" they said

2:45 and the bell went off,thank God

Many people think i'm odd

He hasn't acted the same since, how could he ? You were the love of his life. The small flame of hope in his darkness and trauma. Now you're gone 6 feet under the below rotting way

But I talk with no one and I walk alone

And I avoid sunlight with a chalky tone

I get home and I don't say hi,it ain't no one there

He stopped talking to everyone completely , shutting everyone out as he rebuilt the walls. The walls that you were helping him break down. Instantly going to his dorm after every mission without saying anything

I don't care,I walk and go right up the stairs

To my room,get in bed and I just wait for dark

He sits in his dorm for hours on end lost in dark thoughts

Because that's when the real show starts

(Tap,tap) tap,tap on the glass go the piece of ass

He eventually started seeing things , YOU. He started showing up about year after your death

So young and pretty ,it's too bad she passed

There you stood again pale and cold

But she comes to my room and we talk at night

You've been showing up every night for about two months now

She's demonic and bloody but she holds me tight

Obviously it wasn't actually you. You stand there lifeless with glossy eyes and a sinister,stomach turning grin .(like the one smiles in Smile 2022) He didn't care

In my bedroom,with her,I'm never alone

And I kiss her cold lips until the morning comes

You guys spend the nights in heated make out sessions

Then she gone,I can still hear her voice loom

But she only exists in the dark of my room

Love,I can't ignore you

In my room

Do anything for you (tap,tap)

Love,I do adore you

He became obsessed

In my room

(Tap,tap go the piece of ass) you and I

I try and smile a lot but I'm always frontin'

But I do love a ghost and at least that's somethin'

She don't talk much and when she does,it gets cold

3:00 am now and the whole Base grows cold , nothing feels right

Usually we just lay there,where we hold we each other

We're lovers, we don't need others

The two of you stay snuggled against another

One of my mother's cats jumped up on the covers

And it scared my baby,'cause she don't like pets

The k-9's started to bark loudly outside of the barracks not liking the dark eerie presence in the air , causing you to leave him

So I twisted its fuckin' head off at the neck

"Look baby,it's bloody,it's gone,it's doomed

"please! come back to the room"

"I'll do anything for thee,don't ignore me"

This is more than a sick love story

There he sat begging and crying for you to return

Without you,I'd bring a shotgun to school

And I will if you want me to,for any reason

I hate that you leave when the lights come on

And if I had it my way the fuckin' sun would be gone

Love, I can't ignore you

In my room

Do anything for you (tap,tap)

Love, I do adore you

In my room

Tap,tap go the piece of ass) you and I

Love, I can't ignore you

In my room

Do anything for you (tap,tap)

Love,I do adore you

In my room

(Tap,tap go the piece of ass) you and I

He just wants you back

Sometimes I kiss her,I start shakin'

Your demonic self has him on a choke hold

She slips me the tongue and it tastes like bacon

There the two of you sit kissing in the dark,footsteps are near by

Uh-oh,something's wrong, baby's upset

you pulled away from him,your frown shifting to smirk

She told me she was spotted by the neighbor's kid

She can't come back now.'cause they know our secret

Unless I can make them keep it

One of the other guys "saw" you

If i do, she may come back to life

Now I'm in their yard with a shotgun and knife

Cut the screen,went and sun the kid

Blew a bowl of spaghetti in the side of his head

He got up and out of the dorm,pinning his own teammate,his own friend to the wall bashing his head against the brick wall in fit of rage

Then the daddy was next,next runnin down

He went after everyone else

I shredded his throat and he was quick to fall,tossed the Mossberg and gribbed the knife

Started stabbing the shit of his wife

One by one he got to everyone

Went home a bloody mess with a job well done (tap,tap)

Wash up and wait for my baby to come (tap,tap)

He cleaned himself up and sat in his bed waiting for you

Love, I can't ignore you

In my room

Do anything for you (tap,tap)

Love,I do adore you

In my room

(Tap,tap go the piece of ass) you and I

Love, I can't ignore you

In my room

Do anything for you (tap,tap)

Love,I do adore you

In my room

(Tap,tap go the piece of ass) you and I

There he sat waiting

I waited two, or three days, four days

Waitn' for the tap tap like always

Days passed and you still haven't shown up yet

I waited and hated this

I created a bloody mess

Guilt started to hit him

I waited for two, or three months, four months

Waitn' for the tap,tap just for once

I waited two, or three days, four days

Waitn' for the tap tap like always (where is she?)

I waited and hated this(why isn't she comin' back ?)

I created a bloody mess (tap,tap)

Worry started to hit him

I waited for two, or three months, four months(I fuckin' killed those people!)

He killed his teammates, his friends

Waitin' for the tap,tap just for once ("where the fuck is she ?")

I waited and hated this (tap,tap)

I created a bloody mess(why isn't she coming back?)

(Love) I waited two or three days,four days

GUILT

(In my room) waitin 'for the tap,tap like always (I can't believe I did)

WORRY

(Love) I waited and hated this

GUILT

(in my room,you and I)I created a bloody mess ("I killed them")

WORRY

(Love) I waited two or three months, four months

(in my room) waitin' for the tap,tap just for once ("where is she")

GUILT

(Love) I waited and hated this

(In my room you and I) I created a bloody mess

He went insane

[fayes-fics]

Doctor’s Orders

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Someone decides to play doctor to ameliorate your bad day…

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, doctor/patient roleplay, dom/sub tones, ‘medical examination’ with use of stethoscope and latex gloves, voluntary breathplay, cardiophilia, vaginal fingering, edging.

Word Count: 4.5 k

Authors Note: this is a long-awaited (9 months!) request fill for the lovely @eleanor-bradstreet. My dear, I hope this is somewhat worth the wait. To anyone medically trained, yes, I know what he does is wrong/inaccurate, but that’s the whole point: he’s a somewhat clueless but enthusiastic roleplaying boy, not a real doctor. Thank you to @colettebronte for the read-through and suggestions. Enjoy! <3

It’s been one of those spectacularly shit days at work. When you get to your boyfriend’s flat, all you want to do is shower, crash out and watch brainless TV together.

“Bad day?” Benedict intuits, wandering over from the kitchen, casual in shorts and a t-shirt, as you drop your bag like a tonne of bricks near his front door and pout.

“Hate my job,” you whine, burying your head into his shoulder as he chuckles affectionately, pulling you into his arms and busses a kiss onto your temple.

“No, you don’t; you love your job. You just didn’t love it today,” he smiles into your hair.

“Urgh, fine, yes, Mr EQ, yes, that's true,” you huff his neck, enjoying his clean scent.

“Come with me, my stressed-out noodle,” he offers good-naturedly, withdrawing from the embrace and lacing your fingers with his. He backs up, pulling you along with him further into the flat.

“Where are we going?” you pout again.

“To eat, I made us dinner,” he smiles, something melting in your chest at the sweet gesture. 

“Do I have time to shower first?” you ask, wanting to remove all physical traces of this workday from your skin.

“Of course, be my guest,” he nods towards his room, with the en suite bathroom beyond, and you drop a kiss on his cheek as you go.

—

Fifteen minutes later, you emerge freshly showered and wearing some of his clothes- a t-shirt that swamps you and jogging bottoms you have to roll up at the waist. You take a seat at the kitchen island and tuck into the amazing-smelling food he has laid out, even giving you a comedic bow as you reenter the room.

The food tastes like heaven, and you can't stop the appreciative moans at the flavour explosion on your tongue.

“Fuck Ben, this is delicious,” you assert as you swallow the mouthful.

His face lights up with that beguiling smile that hooked you in the first place all those months ago, and you can't help but lean in and give him a quick peck.

“So do you want to talk about the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day? Or is this more of a big glass of wine and stfu sort of deal?“ he hedges amiably, assessing your needs.

You sigh as you finish your next bite. “Honestly? I don't know. I’m so stressed about it all I sort of don’t want to talk about it. I feel like I need to be one of those Regency ladies who is prescribed a trip to the seaside for my nerves, you know?” you jest, circling your empty fork in the air to highlight your point.

He barks a laugh. “Funny you should say that; I was just reading a book about hilarious historical cures.”

“Yeah…?” your interest piqued.

“Dorset left it out,” he explains, referring to his roommate, a junior doctor at Guys Hospital. “It's hilarious. But I don't think they would diagnose you with a trip to the seaside, at least not based on what I’ve read.”

You swivel on your stool to face him. “Oh no? Then what would I have been prescribed, Dr Bridgerton?” you jest, leaning your chin on your hand and arching a challenging brow. But you don't miss how his pupils dilate a fraction as you address him such.

He turns towards you with a laconic smile. “You likely would have been prescribed a course of pelvic stimulations.”

You are glad you hadn't taken another bite of dinner, as you would have sprayed him with food with that spit take.

“What?!? No!” you laugh incredulously.

“Don't believe me? Go look,” he challenges, gesturing to the book on the coffee table.

“So… Is that what I think it is? Women would literally be told, medically, to masturbate?” you giggle, disbelieving.

“Oh no,” he corrects. “You wouldn't do it; the doctor would.”

“What the…??”

“Yup… ‘to alleviate the female hysterics’,” he chimes, affecting an old-timely announcer voice.

“With what?” you ponder aloud, still utterly perplexed.

“Hands, I would assume,” he breezes. “Why? Would you like a helping hand?” he winks, wiggling his eyebrows comically.

“I mean….” you trail off, still laughing but feeling a tiny buzz between your legs at the idea. “I'm not going to say no… Doctor Bridgerton,” you banter back.

Benedict puts down his fork, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows his bite of food and turns slowly towards you, an enigmatic glint in his eye.

“Well, now, you will need a thorough medical examination before I can determine if such a prescription is even the correct one,” he throws out, still with a jovial air, but the dropped octave is decidedly suggestive.

“How long until I can get an appointment?” you shoot back, feeling the atmosphere in the room shift, the dynamic between you playful but with a definite undercurrent of heat now.

“The doctor is always in… for you,” he answers, a hand landing heavily on your knee. “If you are ready, please go wait in the exam room,” Benedict responds, signalling to the sofa, that hand squeezing slightly. “The doctor can be right with you.”

You giggle and shoot him a ‘Are we really doing this?’ look. When he nods, you wiggle off the stool and drift over to the sectional as he disappears down the hallway, your half-eaten dinners now very much abandoned. Little butterflies in your stomach as you perch, eagerly awaiting his return.

When he re-enters the room, you almost forget how to breathe. He has obviously raided his flatmate's room and come out wearing a white doctor’s overcoat, his shapely calves bare beneath the hem, a stethoscope slung casually around his shoulders. He has also dug out his reading glasses to complete the look. He is so utterly convincing you don't know what to think, except…. Oh fuck yes.

“Good afternoon, Miss y/l/n,” he greets, stepping effortlessly into the roleplay. “I'm Dr Bridgerton. Tell me, what ails you today?” 

He sits on the coffee table right in front of you, looking at you expectantly for your response.

“Hello, doctor,” you begin, stilted, still a little discombobulated by his appearance and how utterly aroused you are by it. “I… I am overworked in my job and don't know the best way to relieve the stress I feel….” 

“Well, I am sorry to hear that. Let us do a basic examination so I can rule out any possible physical ailments and go from there.” Before you can respond, he produces disposable gloves from his overcoat pocket and snaps them on, your tummy fluttering at the sight of them pulling taunt around his long fingers. 

Oh, he means it.

He leans in, his hands cupping your jaw, warm even through the latex. You whimper quietly, realising he is pretending to feel the lymph nodes beneath your ear for swelling. But he doesn't let go; he just stares you down, his eyes glittering in the lamp glow. 

“Say ahhh,” he prompts.

You open your mouth instinctively, just like at the doctor’s. He pivots a hand so his thumb gently presses down on your tongue as he peers into your mouth.

“Hmm, I see no evidence of an oral infection. But I should check via other means too, to be thorough,” he murmurs, pupils dilating as you cheekily close your lips around his thumb and suck on it suggestively. The powdery flavour on the glove somehow just heightens the heat you feel spreading inside.

“Behave please, Miss,” he rebukes, but his actions say otherwise - extracting his thumb and trailing your saliva in a line down over your chin, your neck, resting it in your suprasternal notch as his fingers curl around your neck and tug you towards him.

His kiss is deep and breathtaking. His tongue unfurls into your mouth and probes yours as if this, too, is a thorough examination. You follow his lead, letting him dictate the terms, wanting to follow wherever he is going with this.

“I think we can rule out anything in your mouth being the problem,” he opines drolly over your lips. 

“Thank you, doctor,” you respond coquettish.

“Let me listen to your lungs to ensure there are no respiratory problems. Remove your clothing, please,” he orders brusquely, sitting back.

“All of it?” you inhale sharply.

“I suppose just your top for now,” he revises, looking a tad impatient.

When you whip off the top to reveal you are without a bra, his eyes flash, and the tip of his tongue pokes out as your nipples pebble in the cool air of the room. A wave of something behind your ribs as he unfurls the stethoscope from around his neck and places it in his ears.

“Please keep your hands at your sides at all times. And beware, this may be cold,” he warns.

You squeak as the cool metal is placed onto the flesh above your left breast, your hands curling around the sofa edge by your thighs so you keep them as told.

“Breath in deeply for me,” he instructs, and you do, taking a deep inhale, feeling your body bloom with his proximity as his face squints in concentration. When he doesn't say exhale, you hold, unsure what else to do, your lungs feeling tight. It seems much longer than necessary. “And out”

He drags the bell over your sternum to the same spot on the right side. 

“Again” he orders. You follow the instructions, taking a deep breath. “Hold it,” he alerts, as you start to feel the struggle for air. You do his bidding, feeling that trademark ache under your ribs under the exertion. “And release,” he instructs just as you want to disobey.

“Good,” he rumbles, “just one more.”

You pant lightly as he drags the scope down between your breasts, then jump as he presses it low into the sensitive spot where your ribs meet on your diaphragm. 

“In and hold.”

As you do, he tilts forward and suddenly seizes a nipple between his teeth. You make a strangled noise in your closed mouth, a zipping thrill right down to your clit. The surprise makes air escape out your nose, fingers grasping the cushion.

“No,” he gruffs into your breast, not looking up at you. “I told you to hold. You hold your breath until I say you can release,” he lectures. “Now breath in and hold it,” his voice taking on a steely edge that makes your pussy constrict.

Wordlessly, you do as told, and this time, he swaps to your other nipple, biting down, then lathing with his hot tongue as you struggle—tight lungs, intense pressure behind your cheeks. The thronging pleasure around where he teases you makes it an almost impossible task; starting to struggle a little, your body twitching, fingers and toes flexing.

“Let it out,” he permits, and you open your mouth, the air escaping in a loud ‘pahhhh’ sound.

“Well, I think your lungs sound very healthy,” he breezes nonchalantly as if this is just how a doctor does an exam.

“That’s good,” you defer to his faux expertise even as you feel his saliva drying on your areola. 

“Now, let's test your heart,” he proceeds, pulling the stethoscope from his ears so it rests around his neck. “Remove the rest of your clothing now, please, Miss.”

“Is that strictly necessary, doctor? Just to listen to my heart?” you waver, even as your hands go to the ties at your waistband.

“I am the doctor here, am I not?” he counters, raising a brow.

“Yes,” you demure, a pulse around your clit at how thoroughly he inhabits this role.

“You may find it easier to stand,” he chuckles as he watches you shuffling, struggling to remove your bottoms while seated. 

So you do as he suggests, his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin around your belly button as you push the loose jersey material over the swell of your hips. He growls at the other surprise lurking—you wear no underwear, your bare slit inches from his face as the clothing pools around your feet, now utterly naked.

“Is this okay, doctor?” you simper, looking down at him sitting on the coffee table as he finally tilts his head to look at your face.

“Lay down on the exam table,” he commands, his pointer finger jabbing towards the chaise.

“Make me…”

Your tongue rebels before your brain can engage, wanting to see how much he will take control if you act out. He springs to his feet, towering over you, inches from you, and grasps the nape of your neck, forcing you to look up at him.

“Are you questioning my methods?” he interrogates, his hold strong but not hurting.

Oh, yes, Benedict, well done.

“No, Doctor,” you simper, attempting to look innocent but knowing your eyes must be fully dilated by now, distracted by the pulse you see in his throat.

“I need to be very thorough before I can diagnose you accurately, Miss,” he cautions. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes, doctor.” 

“Good. Now lay down,” he instructs brusquely, releasing his grip.

You drop to the sofa and lay out for him, a thrill zipping over your skin. He places a large cushion beneath your neck and head so you are tilted up and can see down the plain of your naked body.

“Now be very still and be very quiet. Keep your hands at your sides. Whatever I do to you is to ensure your heart is healthy. Do you understand me?” he tutors, his eyes roaming your body covetously.

“Yes, doctor,” you confirm, knowing your chest is rising and falling rapidly, the anticipation burning in your being.

He places the stethoscope directly over your heart and loops it back into his ears, the cool metal now a balm against your flushed skin.

“You have a good strong heartbeat,” he states casually, “But it is a little slow for my liking….”

His gloved hand loops around the leg closest to him and hauls it wide into his lap, your knee brushing a prominent bulge under the overcoat that makes your insides clench at the very thought of his cock.

“Stay still.” 

His clipped reminder is delivered as he trails his fingertips along your inner thigh, his other hand still holding the stethoscope against your chest. Your breath stutters as his latex-covered fingers nudge your folds, already weeping.

“Well, I see there is certainly no problem with your ability to get aroused,” he intones smokily with a tantalising brush over your clit. 

His moves are unrushed, his touch maddeningly light, not nearly enough, barely a glance over your soaked flesh, making you ache for more. After a few moments, you whine and defiantly attempt to push into his touch.

“Did I not tell you to be still and quiet?” he arches an eyebrow, and you pout but still yourself and fold your lips inwards under your teeth. “That’s better. Now let's see what happens when I….”

He expertly plunges two long fingers into your pussy, your arousal leaking over his gloves as he does so. He hisses his approval at your heated cling, pushing deep as you swallow your gasp, biting your lip to prevent any more sound from escaping. His fingers hook, and his wrist twists in slow corkscrew turns, dragging thoroughly over your walls as if giving you an internal exam. You crave more: more fingers, movement, friction, more of anything, your fingernails scratching against the fibres of the sofa, keeping them at your sides as told, even as you itch to grab his wrist and direct his motions.

“Interesting,” he mutters, his fingers swirling slowly, probing inside as he drags the scope fractionally on your sternum.

You utter a silent curse, your body already quivering. The room filled only with the sound of your ragged breathing and the sodden noise from between your legs as he leisurely rocks his gloved fingers into and out of your pussy, you suctioning around his knuckles, the stretch with each stroke making you want to beg for him to make you come.

“Your heart is definitely strong,” he declares, “but I think we need to put it to the test properly.”

His thumb presses onto your clit, and it's like a lightning bolt through your being. Something about the fact it's not his skin on yours lends an extra frisson. You can feel the warmth of his pad behind the latex barrier as he flicks against your swollen nub.

“More, please, Doctor Bridgerton, please,” you entreat desperately, attempting to tilt your pelvis to ride his hand.

He groans at your use of his name, not chastising you for vocalising. His rigid cock brushes your knee held in his lap as he surges his hips fractionally, your legs spread obscenely wide as he finger fucks you, his stethoscope leaving a circular imprint on your chest, almost bearing his weight into your skin. God help you both if his flatmate cuts his night shift short.

“Your bpm is rising,” he reports as his fingers move faster, wringing filthy noises from your body now, pushing harder with every stroke, his thumb circling your clit with unerring pressure. You just moan a litany of ‘Dr Ben’, and ‘yes’ and ‘please don’t stop’ as you spiral higher.

“That's it, yes, that's what I like to hear,” he encourages, “it's like music.” 

Even you can tell your heart is thumping now, hearing it loud in your own ears as the blood rushes to your head. Just as you are about to crest, he suddenly stops his ministrations and withdraws his fingers. You cry out as he rests the soaked glove on your lower belly, pressing down softly from the outside on that spot that aches for more, your own juices dripping down between your bum cheeks.

“Shhh shh,” he pacifies, the scope he still holds with his other hand feeling heavy on your flesh as his prideful gaze travels up your panting body, gleeful at his ability to do this to you. 

You plead with your eyes as his eyes finally reach your face, silently asking him to finish.

“Wonderful, your heartbeat is so strong in my ears,” he sounds almost wistful, dreamy. 

Your breathing slows, even as you feel the burn of an orgasm so denied, your pelvis throning, your clit painfully engorged.

“Hmm, let’s go again, shall we?” he smirks.

That’s all the warning you get before he plunges his fingers back inside, this time using three, the latex glove squeaking slightly around his palm. You scream and cant your body up off the sofa to the point he briefly lets go of the scope; his glove presses down on your diaphragm, forcing you back flat so you cannot ride his fingers like you want to.

“Please, doctor…” you beseech, voice reedy and wanton, uncaring about anything but being hurled over that divine edge.

“The more you ask, the less I am inclined to deliver,” he menaces. “I will just edge you all night and listen to your heart thumping so hard for me it sounds like it wants to break out from under your ribs.” he jerks the scope pointedly over your breastbone. 

You close your eyes and bite your lip, resigning yourself to obey. That he might keep you on edge for so long, you cannot bear—you need to come like you need air.

His handsome face is smug as he once again probes your body from inside, almost experimenting based on the tiny whimpers you make. He jabs a spot that makes your entire body spasm, and a crooked, dangerous smile spreads over his features.

“Oh, look what we have found,” his chest resonant with pitch, the tone dark and sweet.

Once again, you beg silently, but he indulges in the tease. Tapping gently on the spot rather than rocking into it, a slow, gentle touch that makes every nerve jangle, like an itch you cannot scratch hard enough.

“I love to see you like this,” he admits breathily as he keeps us at that vexing pace. “So strung out and desperate to come. You would do anything I told you to right now, wouldn't you? If I just promised to let you over the edge.”

You are nodding vigorously before he even finishes his sentence, his triumphant expression almost galling if not for the desire writ large on his face.

“Good,” he snarls and starts to jab on that same spot. Desire roars fire in your veins, and you scream, your body trembling. He leans over and captures one of your nipples in his wet, warm mouth, and you scream again, uncaring what any of his neighbours may think.

You are dangling on the edge, reality bleeding into pleasure when once again he stops, and the noise that escapes your lungs is feral—a wretched groaning wail as an inferno licks around every edge of your being.

“Listen,” he growls, roughly yanking the tubes from his ear and placing them over yours. The noise is almost deafening, a thumping rhythm so fast it is virtually interpolating and looping upon itself. It's fascinating and life-affirming even as your body cries out, your clit pulsing in tempo with the thrumming beat. Greedily, he grabs them back and places them over his ears again, moving the bell to the right, his breath gusting hard.

“Touch yourself,” he orders gruffly.

It doesn't take moments for your hand to slide between your legs and catch your clit, a hardened, searing nub so wet you can hardly find grip and so distended it doesn't even feel like your body.

He leans possessively over you, a vein in his neck pulsing as he listens intently, his eyes pinging between your face, the scope on your naked chest and your hand between your legs, rubbing vigorously.

When his fingers sink back inside you, your knuckles cradled in his palm as you strum your clit, it hurtles you instantly over. You grasp his bicep as you crest the wave, your whole body held taught then snapping, shuddering and pulsing forcefully around his fingers as you tumble down that abyss, his stethoscope almost bruising your breastbone as you writhe, him singing your praises. You don't recall the next few moments, floating far away as everything is fuzzy, as if behind a gauzy filter. 

“Oh, that was perfect,” he attests sotto voce as you return to yourself, shaking with tony aftershocks. “You should hear how alive your body sounds when you come like that. Fuck that was amazing…” he seems almost dazed, his fingers dormant inside you.

As he withdraws from you, you emit a mewl, overwrought and shaking from the intensity. 

“Well, Miss,” he begins, slipping back into his roleplay. “I can say without a doubt you are very healthy, so no concern there. I can also tell your stress level is much lower now. Thus, I shall be prescribing you a minimum of two orgasms a day. Purely for your health, you understand,” he adds with a knowing smirk.

“Yes, doctor,” you nod drowsily, slurring slightly. “Should I administer them mysel…?”

“No,” he cuts in. “I'm afraid it requires a medical professional such as myself to ensure correct dosage,” his tone gravelly, snapping off the gloves from his hands, balling them up and tossing them aside. “You will need to see me morning and night for at least a month until I can properly assess whether the treatment plan is effective.”

“Yes, Doctor Bridgerton,” you purr sibilant, too strung out to do anything but languidly agree to everything he says.

As you go to close your legs, he grabs your kneecap, preventing you.

“Oh no, we are not done here,” he intones with a tinge of menace.

“No?” you stutter.

“No, I need to be very thorough,” he counters, his voice rich like velvet. His bare fingers trail ticklish patterns over the crease of your knee as he smiles perilously, enjoying keeping you on tenterhooks. “I am nowhere near done with your treatment for the day. You have only had one climax, and I do believe I said you need a minimum of two per day," he reminds you, his stare blistering. 

You watch, almost stupified, as he removes the stethoscope and swivels to kneel between your legs, grabbing them and pushing them high and wide apart, the burning stretch along your inner thighs making you gasp.

“Now, are you going to do exactly what your doctor tells you to do this time?” he grills, his fingers digging into your flesh, his gaze intense.

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Good,” the word resonates through his being as his hungry stare slips over your body, down between your legs. “Now I think you need something more substantial than fingers, don't you?” he smirks playfully.

“Please, yes, please, Doctor Bridgerton,” you implore, canting your breasts up towards him, your eyes covetously sliding down his body as he hovers over you. Your breath quickens when you see the clear outline of his cock bulging against the overcoat. Oh god, is he naked under there? The thought makes you clench again.

You raise your hands and tug at the collar of his overcoat until the first popper opens, revealing his constellation of freckles. When he doesn't stop you, emboldened, you pull again, each popper relenting, a larger slice of his naked torso revealed with each ping. By the time you are down to the last two, you see the trail of hair from beneath his belly button and moan.

“You have been naked this whole time, doctor?!” your voice hitching almost scratchy.

He grabs your hand away, pressing it into the cushion above your head as he bears you into the sofa with his weight, one of that last fastened poppers snagging cold metal against your swollen clit.

“I cannot ask my patients to be naked if I am not as well, surely?” he rumbles, hot in your ear, his warm chest covering yours. He grabs your other wrist and guides it to the same place. “Now, hold onto the cushion under your head and don't move your hands until I say so,” he orders, his smoulder turning lethal as you do as told. 

He pulls up slightly and yanks the rest of the coat open, throwing it aside, giving you only a fleeting glance before surging his leaking, heated cock right over your slit.

“God, Ben, fuck me,” your errant internal monologue slips from your tongue before you can stop it.

“Who is Ben?” he quips duskily, rocking in a distracting manner, his tip glancing into your folds. “There is only Doctor Bridgerton here tonight.”

“Doctor Bridgerton,” you amend, fingers curling into the seam of the throw cushion, fighting the urge to grab him, “please fuck me.” 

He smiles triumphantly and lowers himself over you so you are swamped by him. 

“Well, as you asked so nicely…” 

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies

Dividers credit: @/firefly-graphics