#life with jet wolf

[keyofjetwolf]

"I play fetch all day. I am a Fetcher Girl."

- Midgey, declaring this with no context for any of us

#life with jet wolf #the aunt teddy chronicles

[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.

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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.”

#lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #lee know smut #lee know x y/n #lee minho smut #skz x reader #skz kinktober #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #skz smut

[ivysangel]

Jason as a nibbler, a neck biter, a vampire. Not literally, he doesn't need blood to survive, no, but the way his mouth somehow always finds your neck, always finds a way to catch his teeth on your carotid, you'd think he did.

He comes up behind you so innocently sometimes, his hands ghosting over your hips and his hair tickling your jaw. His beautiful, soft, jet-black hair that is so quickly replaced with sharp nips of his teeth. You pull away, pushing his head back with your hand, and he groans; what did I do, his eyes say when he lifts his head to look at you. "You're biting me." you point to the teeth marks on your neck, indents a little deeper where his canines were. "I'm loving you."

You patiently wait for the day he gets carried away and accidentally draws blood, the day when the permissiveness of your flesh gives way to this indulgent behavior of his. He'll nose at the tiny droplets of blood collecting around the puncture wounds, licking and laving as a pool of iron collects on his tongue. Pulling away, looking like a wolf who's just devoured its prey, with blood smeared on the tip of his nose and his pupils blown wide.

He'd tasted blood before when he'd punched too hard, when he'd been punched too hard; the taste was always bitter in his mouth, too metallic, and always lingering long after he'd washed it away with water, but not yours. No, yours was welcome, just as bitter and metallic but also sweet? Comforting? Welcome? Yes, welcome. He'd welcomed you into his life a multitude of times, made room for you in places he'd previously thought to be too cramped. In his home, in his mind, in his heart, but the one place he could never figure out how to integrate you was his body.

Of course, he'd had sex with you, let you touch him in ways he had never been touched before, seen him at his most vulnerable, but it would never be the same for him as it was for you. You could never be inside of him the way he was inside of you. He thought he'd never know how it felt to walk around with ghosts of you inside of him the way you did when he came too deep or stretched you out too much. He thought he'd never know what it felt like to carry a part of his lover around with him outside of a material object. Now, he knew otherwise; he knew there was an alternative—a painful, bloody alternative—but an alternative nonetheless.

#cw blood #guys guys guys i don't #have a blood kink #i really need to say that *crying* #i'll probably never expand on this #anyway this is just a little experiment #not entirely sure it's any good bc hello #brain fried #(just finished 4 assignments) #back to back #anyway !!! bye #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd smut #jason todd imagine #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood smut #red hood imagine #jason todd lover

[luveline]

JADE!!! WE WOULD LOVE TO SEE ANOTHER SPENCER X BADASS GIRL!!! maybe its a quiet day and reader & spencer just chilling and joking around in their little world and the others just watching ahahah

thank you for your request babe, I would love to write more for this pairing if u have requests!! ♡ fem!reader

"What are they doing?" Emily asks, a fierce whisper that carries across the jet. 

"I think they're flirting," JJ whispers back. 

Hotch closes the case file in front of him. There's nothing left to do until they get home but sit here in each other's company. You and Spencer seem to have realised this before anybody else, shoulder to shoulder, a book in his hands. He's slouched with his leg crossed over his knee, taking up the majority of the couch. You seem content to take the brunt of his weight while giggling softly by his ear. 

Hotch can't lie, he's genuinely startled by your behaviour. It's the total opposite of your usual affect.

"That's not flirting," Rossi says without looking up. 

Hotch has to agree. You brush a stray hair from Spencer's shoulder and he doesn't so much as blush, turning the page to show you something particular. You lean in closer still, hand resting now on his shoulder. 

That's not flirting, that's way beyond it. Spencer is practically in your lap, and you —wouldn't hug anyone on your birthday, didn't tell them where you were for four days when you had appendicitis until you were forced, cold, lone wolf you— look like you're about to cuddle him close and whisper sweet nothings in his ear. 

You're in your own little world. 

"I stopped expecting her to push him off twenty minutes ago," Derek says, as seemingly unbothered as Rossi. 

"Don't tell me you knew about this," Emily says incredulously. 

"They've been going on dates." 

"They what?" 

You laugh happily at Spencer's side, pointing at a specific line with the tip of your fingernail. "When asked, Moroscova said that the length of his stay was an act of perjury," you read. 

Spencer laughs at your quotation, sharing a secret smile with you. "That haircut is an act of perjury." 

Your eyes glow with a look Hotch knows well. Haley looked at him like that for years. "Thanks for reading this with me. I know I'm slow." 

"You're not slow. I'm really fast. There's a difference."

It's the definition of young love, Hotch thinks, all those heartfelt reassurances disguised as brags, stolen touches, Spencer's knuckles stroking up and down your outer thigh. 

He turns back to his book and you stare at the side of his face. It's a little heartbreaking. Hotch knows if things don't work out between you, you'll take it hard. Your affection for Spencer has always been in the silent things, undulating, until lately: you listen to him talk when nobody else has the patience, what must amass to hours and hours of stories and statistics; you defend him at every turn, in every precinct in every city; when Spencer has a hard time, you refuse to rest until he feels better. The case before this one, the unsub beat you across the face with the handle of his gun, and you leaned out of the ambulance with your eye glued shut to make sure Spencer got anaesthetic before his stitches. You look at him like he's hanging the moon in real time. 

"Okay, that's too much," Derek says. Hotch detects a hint of brotherly affection in it, but mostly disgust. 

You raise your gaze from Spencer's chest, the breezy smile playing on your lips flattening into a hard line. You send Derek your fiercest glare, him being the first in your line of sight, and Emily gets the shock of her life when you turn and narrow your eyes at her, too. 

Emily smiles widely. "Hey, how's it going over there?" she asks. 

"Why are you guys looking at me?" you ask. 

"You can't guess?" Derek says.

"If I could guess, I wouldn't have asked." 

Hotch gives you a disapproving look. Tone it down, Agent. 

"I just wanna know what's so interesting," you say, leaning into indifference.  

Spencer looks up from his book. "What?" 

"Nothing," you say, your tone gentler in a capacity only profilers might notice. "Don't worry about it."

Spencer sits up and your eyebrows pinch down. Hotch wants to save it and he also doesn't get paid enough. Everything works out in the end, he thinks, not believing himself even slightly as he gets up to make a cup of coffee at the back of the jet. Your sullen tones hardly reach him through the curtain and over the sound of the hot water kettle, Spencer's puzzled reassuring even quieter. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[werecreature-addicted]

I can imagine a massive Jet-black 10ft werewolf boyfriend who did something stupid so you give him the silent treatment and he’s just begging to be pet and cuddled but you keep ignoring him and then all you hear is a loud whine.

The silent treatment is literally the worst punishment your werewolf could imagine. He'd prefer you kick him over and over again. At least you would be paying attention to him.

How is he supposed to live without your pretty eyes on him? Your soft hands in his fur? Your voice in his ear telling him you adore him. Pure torture. If this is life, then it's not worth living.

All of this TORTURE just because he accidentally tracked mud into the house. He even cleaned up after himself after you told him to, but still. He did clean it up!

He rests his head on your lap and looks up at you with the saddest wolf eyes he can manage. You don't crack, and he realizes you must be truly heartless. Who could look upon his sweet, pleading face and turn away?

He'll follow you around from room to room and whimper. He knows that you can hear him. You're choosing to ignore him, and it breaks his heart.

When you finally do cave and start paying him attention, expect to get pinned down under a massive wolf for the foreseeable future. You aren't going anywhere until he's satisfied, and it will take a long time to make up for all the cuddles he's missed out on today.

#werewolf #monster imagine #monster fucker #teratophillia #monster #monster boyfriend #werewolves #werewolf boyfriend #werewolf x reader

[kitchenisking]

Sterek Fic Rec

It's the first night of chunnuka! Enjoy!

Alpha's Heat by TombRaider008 - (Rating: Mature, Words: 1,192, sterek)

Stiles finds Derek in his bedroom. In heat. Wearing his batman boxer briefs, sniffling his used lacrosse jersey and dry humping the living daylights out of his bed. Sexy times ensured.

suck it, pup by DenaCeleste - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 843, sterek)

Stiles has an oral fixation, and Derek has something pretty specific in mind for his pup's enjoyment.

Katoptronphilia by ItsMe_Basil - (Rating: Mature, Words: 2,007, sterek)

"Oh, my god," he mewled, back arching. The hand around his throat tightened and a growl reverberated against him, in his ear, through his skin. 

"Are you looking?" Derek asked. Stiles nodded, a reedy moan pulled from his mouth as Derek let his thumb drag over the head before moving down to the base once more. 

"Look at how pretty you react to my touch," Derek continued. "I made that blush."

The words were whispered against the shell of Stiles' ear. "I made you hard and desperate, leaking."

Taking Care by RisingQueen2 (FallenQueen2) - (Rating: Mature, Words: 3,907, sterek)

When Derek finds out what Peter offered to Stiles and what Gerard really did to him in that basement, it caused him to finally act on his feelings for Stiles.

Get You The Moon by AClosedFicIsNeverRead - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 180,785, sterek)

Derek looked up in surprise to note that they were taking a private jet. Dread settled into his gut like a stone. “It has a cage, doesn’t it?” he asked quietly, and noted the subtle changes in his family members’ posture. “Is it for me?” Cora gave him a pleading look and nodded. “Is it because of what you’re going to tell me?” he asked, voice like gravel. Another nod confirmed it. Stiles. Oh, GOD. It had to be Stiles. Derek would not lose control over anyone else in Beacon Hills and they damned well knew it.

- OR - 

The one where Derek has been gone for 6 months building a new life, finds out that Stiles is being assaulted by Theo, so he comes back to Beacon Hills to kick some serious ass and rescue the loudmouthed human who stole his heart.

(You will need ALL the tissues, but it will have a happy ending by the time all is said and done!)

Title inspired by song:  ‘Get You The Moon’  by Kina ft. Snow

A Perfect Bait For A Knotty Wolf by KnottheWolf - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 3,062, sterek)

Day 9: Feral- “Let me just get this straight. You want me to become your feral Alpha werewolf nephew’s chew toy?”

Peter stroked his chin, “Honestly, I was going for the phrase bed warmer, but you often squeak like a little chew toy. So yes, I want you to be his chew toy. Unless however you want a bullet in your head?”

bad habits (i do em all for you) by nymphe - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 4,879, sterek)

wherein: stiles is sexually frustrated, stiles gets a vibrator stuck in his ass, stiles calls derek to help him with it, there's some kink discovery, a few orgasms, and some feelings. yep, that's about it.

it's just business by To_fill_the_sea - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2,626, sterek)

Derek has been running a successful company for a long time and finally orchestrated a merger with another company. It has been eating up more time than he'd like and he just wants to spend some time at home. But people keep getting in his way and certain people are going to very surprised when Derek;s boyfriend decides to pop in for a surprise visit.

day of discovery by insert pseud here (EvanesDust) - (Rating: Not Rated, Words: 100, sterek)

...the one where they figure out Eli's a werewolf.

Down On My Knees by SophieTrancy - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 10,479, sterek)

Inspired by a Tumblr post by hoechloin. Contains major Teen Wolf 6x19 spoilers. 

Chris came looking for Derek, hell bent on convincing the wolf to come back. But, unless Stiles needed him there, he wasn't interested. 

"If I go back, it's not for Beacon Hills" Derek said, turning to look at the former Hunter "It's for Stiles" That is, until he truly understands just how fucked they are.

"You haven't heard, then" Chris spoke, watching as Derek arched his brows at him "That's weird, I always thought the kid was the only one who actually had a way to reach you" Chris said, chuckling to himself.

So Derek goes back, thinking Stiles was finally safe, away from Beacon Hills. But he was right to assume it wouldn't last long, of course he was. Stiles was his mate, after all, he should've known better. Things don't go according to plan, despite their best efforts. And it's like time stopped for Derek, watching as Stiles' body fell to the floor. 

Originally posted on tumblr.

#sterek #derek hale #fanfiction #stiles stilinski #stiles x derek #kitcheniskingficrecs #ficrec #fanfic

[the-air-nomad]

A wolf's love

You've known Sokka since you were little. Your father was the chief of another southern tribe and also a close friend of Chief Hakoda. Also, your grandmothers were friends in their youth. 

You were a waterbender but you discovered this shortly after Kya's death so you decided to hide this ability. After the men left for war, your father left you in Kanna's care.

 You became very close to Sokka, and Katara often laughed at your childish love for her brother. Sokka, on the other hand, adores you and has dreamed of you two getting married since childhood. 

When Sokka and Katara brought Aang to the village you were skeptical but then you agreed with Katara hoping that you would be able to find a waterbending master. 

You convinced Sokka to come with you telling him that you need someone strong to protect you. 

When you arrived on Kyoshi Island, you and Sokka argued for the first time since you met. It was the first time you noticed how misogynistic Sokka really was. Sokka begged Suki to teach him to fight and even agreed to wear traditional Kyoshi clothes. You, Katara and Aang laughed but at least you weren't mad at him anymore. 

Then came the meeting with Jet. Sokka will never admit to you how good he felt when he noticed that you also thought there was something wrong with that boy.You helped Sokka save the village.

The visit to the North Pole was a nightmare for you. The brothers found out you were a waterbender and were upset that you didn't tell them sooner. Katara soon gave up her upset being happy that she is not the last waterbender from the South. Sokka was extremely upset, first you lied to him and then you gave up on him to spend time with his sister. He won't admit it, but the fact that he wasn't a bender hurt him a lot. He decided to try to make you jealous by approaching Yue. But things did not go in his favor. After his kiss with Yue from Spirit Oasis, you decided to give up on the idea of ​​a relationship with him.

 Katara could no longer bear the horrible condition her brother was in, so she told you about his plan from the North Pole. To give Sokka a taste of his own medicine, you started flirting with Zuko. Katara thought you were a perfect match for her brother due to your extremely great talent for making plans (notice the sarcasm, please). You and Toph found Sokka's silly jealousy hilarious. 

Sokka was absolutely crazy, what did that fiery head have that he didn't?!

 During the Siege of Ba Sing Se you and Sokka finally confessed your feelings for each other. Sokka was happier than ever but that didn't last because you were seriously injured and lost a lot of blood. You've been unconscious almost as long as Aang. In that time Sokka was completely destroyed. He felt like his life was over and he swore that when you woke up, he couldn't imagine you wouldn't, he would do anything to protect you.

 When you woke up Sokka exploded like fireworks. Even though you felt horrible, you struggled to give him a big smile. After that, things started to go downhill. Sokka had become inhumanly possessive and protective. You tried to talk to Katara and Hakoda but they told you that Sokka acts like this because he doesn't want to lose you like he lost his mother which made you feel like a terrible person.

 When you arrived in the Fire Nation, Sokka followed you like a shadow. At Hama's inn he slept in the same room as you. When you found out that Hama was from the Southern Water Tribe something clicked in your mind. You asked if she had known your paternal grandmother. Her eyes widened when she heard your father's name. It seems that Hama was your grandmother, Sokka's grandmother's friend. That didn't make Sokka calm down and he almost attacked Hama with his sword when she tried to hug you. After Hama was arrested Sokka consoled you saying that you don't need anyone else when you have him.

After Zuko's coronation you and Sokka returned to the South while Katara and Aang had to stay in the Fire Nation. Although Sokka's protectiveness still bothers you, you were extremely happy when Sokka asked you to marry him.

But as heroes never have a simple life, your story has only just begun.

Although I do not own the characters from avatar the last airbender, this work belongs to me! I sincerely hope you liked it. Please rate it and leave a comment! follow me to see my next posts! 💖💖💨

You can buy me a coffe if you want:  buymeacoffee.com/TheAirNomad

#Avatar The Last Airbender #atla #yandere avatar the last airbender #sokka #soft yandere #yandere sokka #sokka x reader #katara #aang #toph #Zuko #toph beifong #reader #yandere x reader #avatar #yandere avatar #yandere atla #hakoda #kya #kanna #hama #yue #ba sing se #waterbender reader

[topguncortez]

A Supposed Miracle || Bradley Bradshaw

Top Gun Celebration | Main masterlist

synopsis: A year ago you survived the unimaginable, but you weren't sure if it was actually the miracle they said it was. Written as part of my 1 Year TG Celebration:)

word count: 2.2k

warnings: Uranium Mission, description of injuries, mentions of PTSD, amnesia, paralyzation, cursing

prompts: "I don’t care if we are fighting, or if you’re mad at me, I’m still gonna be there for you.”

Rooster wasn’t sure what he was doing. What had possessed him now, of all days, to show up at your front door, he wasn’t quite sure. The last time he had seen you, you were barely alive. Blood seeping from your body, your temperature near dangerous levels, breaths so shallow and pulse so weak, Rooster had to press his ear against your chest just to hear your heart beating.

When the two of you were rescued, you were whisked off into the belly of the ship while he was being flocked to by sailors commending him for a good job. 

“I didn’t do anything right,” He remembers saying to Maverick, as he sat on the cold metal exam table. 

“Yes you did, you both survived-” 

“I paralyzed her!” 

Rooster knew that it wasn’t all his fault, but he had no choice but to move you. You were sitting ducks in the middle of the snow-covered field, wearing your green flight suits. You had cried and begged for him to leave you there, telling him you would rather “die on the battlefield in glory” than live a life where you could no longer walk, or take care of yourself. But Rooster wasn’t about to do that when an enemy helicopter arrived and opened fire on the two of you. He didn’t think twice as he picked you up in his arms, despite your cries and hits against his body as he carried you into a wooded area. 

“You fucking dick, Bradshaw! You should’ve left me to die!” 

“You can blame me for saving your life later.” 

Three days. Seventy-Two Hours. Four thousand three hundred twenty minutes. two hundred fifty-nine thousand two hundred seconds. 

That’s how long the two of you were out in the snow-covered woods. Both of your beacons had been crushed when you intercepted the SAMs to save one another. Rooster, who had merely a concussion and some bruised ribs did his best to try and keep you alive. He wasn’t sure where all the blood was coming from, too scared to cut away your flight suit to find out. He did his best to stop the bleeding, switching from packing snow against your body, to pressing a hot wire against the exposed skin. The two of you split an MRE that somehow managed to survive the wreckage. He could remember you making a joke about it. 

“Not sure if we should be even eating something that can survive a jet fire.” 

But Rooster made sure to save the last Twizzler bites in the package for you. He had hardly slept, forcing himself to stay awake to make sure you were still alive, and keeping a watchful eye for any wolves or other wildlife. He knew that his defense against a wolf was going to be useless, but he had gone over in his head what he would do to make sure you lived. On the last night, you were out there, Rooster held you tightly in his arms, the both of you coming to the realization that you might not live to see another sunrise out in the woods. 

“You need to be the one to tell him,” You said, your voice barely above a whisper. Your skin was sunburned and your lips chapped from dehydration, “He won’t try and fight you.” 

“He hates me, Reap, he always has,” Rooster said, gently rocking you back and forth. 

“Jake doesn’t hate you,” You shook your head, “He is intimidated by you. He knows that you are the better pilot. But if it’s anyone else that tells him I didn’t make-” Your voice broke, “That I didn’t make it. . . he’ll drink himself to death. He’ll want to know everything.” 

Rooster looked up at the night sky. All the stars seemed to be out, shining brightly above the two of you. 

“I loved you first,” Your voice pulled Rooster away from his analysis of the stars, “You broke me when you left. Didn’t say why or where…you just left.” 

“And I have regretted that day for all my life,” Rooster said. 

He could so vividly remember seeing your acceptance letter to USNA sitting on your desk when he came home from one of his classes at the local community college. He didn’t even know you applied, let alone were interested in the Navy. But he was so mad, so angry that you had gotten something that he had wanted his whole life. Instead of waiting for you to come home from work, he quickly packed a bag and left, not so much as leaving a note to explain. It wasn’t until a couple of weeks ago that the two of you had finally reunited. 

And now, you were going to die in the arms of your first love. 

“I love you, Y/N,” Rooster said, and he felt your body tense for a moment, before it relaxed in his arms, “I have always loved you. I have never stopped loving you. I will never stop loving you.” 

You squeezed Rooster’s hand, “I… Love…” 

Rooster looked down at your face, seeing the light go out in your eyes, “No… No, no, hey,” He shook your body, patting your cheek lightly, “You don’t get to do this,” He laid your body gently down on the ground, placing his hands in the middle of your chest and starting compressions, “C’mon, Reaper! C’mon! Don’t…” Rooster looked up at the sky, “You son of bitch, you give her back to me! You give her back to me right fucking now!” 

— — —

They called it a miracle. But it felt like anything but that to you. 

You spent a whole month, unconscious in the ICU in England, before you were moved back to the US, where you spent another two weeks hooked up to machines. When you woke up, you had no recollection of the last several years of your life. You didn’t know that the blonde man sitting next to you was apparently your fiance, or that you had graduated top of your class at TopGun, or hell, that you had even made it to TopGun, to begin with. You didn’t know what had happened out in the woods, other than that you were paralyzed from the waist down, and you would never fly again. 

The only person that you did recognize was Maverick, and even those memories were a little hazy. He had helped you get settled into your house (which had been totally renovated to be wheelchair accessible). Your fiance, whose name you learned was Jake, helped you get reacclimated to most things. He was nice and was doing everything he could to help gain some memories back. Over time you remembered certain things like Jake’s birthday, or that you had a 1972 mustang mach 1 sitting in Maverick’s hangar, or flashes of the last mission you were on. But the most prominent memory in your mind was of coming home to an empty house and that blue Bronco gone from the driveway. 

You had asked Jake about Rooster several times, and he just danced around the subject. He told you that Rooster was a part of the mission, and he had taken a different position instead of staying in North Island with the rest of the team. You also remembered that when Jake lied, his right eye would twitch. 

You had spent the better part of that year in intense physical therapy. Your doctor believed that you could probably regain some function and learn to walk with assistance. You thought that hell week at USNA was hard, but nothing would prepare you for this journey. Day after day, Jake would pick you up from therapy physically and mentally exhausted. Learning how to walk again at age twenty-seven was a lot harder than toddlers made it look. 

Between your doctor, various therapists, Jake and Maverick, by the time the one-year mark of the mission came around, you were able to stand and walk with the help of your walker. Being able to graduate from physical therapy felt better than any promotion you might’ve received from the Navy. 

But now here you were, a year to the day later, staring at the man who had been constantly on your mind. You had actually started to believe Jake’s story about Rooster taking a job somewhere else because, for the last year, he had been totally MIA. Jake had taken you to the Hard Deck and out several times with the dagger squad in the past year, and every time, Rooster wasn’t there. Nobody mentioned him. Nobody even talked about him if you were around. There had been no texts, no calls, and no letters from him in the past year. 

You were actually starting to wonder if maybe he was dead. 

“So you are alive,” You scoffed, “Congrats.” 

“Reap-” 

“No,” You shook your head, “You don’t get to fucking call me that. Do you even know the hell I have been through in the past year?!” 

“I’m sorry,” Rooster said simply, “I just couldn’t face you knowing that I put you in-” 

“A wheelchair?” 

He sucked in a breath and looked down at his shoes. He looked a lot like the man you remembered. Sandy brown hair, sunkissed tan skin, those sweet baby cow eyes that you had fallen in love with. He was wearing a pair of Levi’s that hugged his thighs just right, and one of those infamous Hawaiian shirts that used to belong to his dad. His Rayban caravans dangled off the chain of his dog tags that were tucked underneath his white tank top. 

Rooster licked his lips and looked up at you, for probably the first time since the standoff had started. You had cut your hair, it was shorter than what he remembered, sitting right above your shoulders. He could see that your face had some new-age lines to it. Your arms now had more black and colored ink than clear skin on them. And your eyes, those once soft and loving eyes, were cold and hard as you glared at him. 

“I’m sorry,” Rooster said again. 

You shook your head, “Why are you here?” 

“Because I-” Rooster still wasn’t sure why he was here. He thought he would have more time to figure that answer out before you asked, “Because I wanted to see you. I heard that you are coming tonight and I-” 

You scoffed, “So you decide now, a year later, that you wanna show your face?” 

“Look,” Rooster was trying to keep his cool, but his patience was starting to wear thin with you, “I don’t care if you hate me. I don’t care if we are fighting, or if you’re mad at me, I’m still gonna be there for you.” 

“But you-” 

“You weren’t the only one who lost something out there!” Rooster yelled. You looked taken aback by the sudden increase in his voice, “Okay? You weren’t the only one out there for three days. You weren’t the only one. . . planning a fucking funeral in your head. You weren’t the only one who lost something out there.” You looked down at your lap, hearing Rooster take several deep breaths to calm himself. He knew that he fucked up but not coming to see you sooner, but he wasn’t sure how he could face you. 

“Did you tell Jake to lie to me?” You looked up at the man. 

“No,” Rooster shook his head, “I asked him about you almost every day for about three months. I wanted to know how you were, what you were doing if there was any update on your injury, or if you gained your memory back, but Jake just kept it to a minimum. Eventually, he told me to stop asking.” 

“Fucking Jake,” You rolled your eyes, “I broke up with him about three months after I woke up. It was just too hard to pretend to love a man when I hardly knew him.” Rooster nodded, “But to make you feel better. . . I asked about you too.” 

Rooster clenched his jaw, trying to push back the tears in his eyes. You held your hand out to him, and he walked forward, placing his large hand in your smaller one. You squeezed it, just like you did when you died in his arms a year ago. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

The two of you let out a soft chuckle as you spoke at the same time. 

“You first,” Rooster said. 

“I’m sorry for how I treated you when you found me. I just knew right away I was fucked and I didn’t see any point in living a life where I can’t fly. But I realized how fucked and selfish that was to tell you that. You saved my life, Bradley, a-and. . .” You blinked a couple of times, trying to find the right words, “Thank you for that.” 

Rooster’s jaw dropped slightly, and he gave your hand a squeeze, “I’m sorry for being too scared to come and see you. I let my own fear and self-hatred get in the way. And you saved my life too.” 

You smiled at him, “Do you want to come in for a drink?” 

“I’d love nothing more.” 

taglist: @damrlova @shanimallina87 @phoenix1388  @desert-fern @mygyn @cherrycola27   @yanna-banana @seitmai @topgun-imagines  @bradleybeachbabe @startrekfangirl2233 @xoxabs88xox @atarmychick007 @bradshawseresinbabe @Munsonswhore86 @happypopcornprincess @Sophiaslastbraincell @bradswolfe @fandom-princess-forevermore @thedroneranger @angelbabyange @callsignharper @genius2050

taglist form:)

I just wanna say a quick shoutout to @a-reader-and-a-writer for sending in this request and being just an all around awesome person. you guys don't see it on here, but I'm in a discord with Vee and she is one of the most reliable, and knowledgeable, and nicest people I have ever had the opportunity to interact with. I can always count on Vee to pop in with an answer to my questions or a funny one-liner or angst that hurts so deliciously good. She's an amazing writer and friend and fandom-dweller (. . . yeah that's the word). She's always so positive and works hard to create an awesome and safe space on her blog, on the dash, in the server. She's just amazing <3

#top gun #top gun fan fic #top gun fan fiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fan fiction #top gun maverick fan fic #top gun maverick imagine #Bradley Bradshaw #Bradley Bradshaw fan fic #Bradley Bradshaw fan fiction #Bradley Bradshaw imagine #Bradley Bradshaw x reader #Bradley Bradshaw x you #Bradley Bradshaw x y/n #Bradley rooster Bradshaw #rooster Bradshaw #rooster #rooster fan fic #rooster fan fiction #rooster imagine #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x y/n #miles teller

[thatsrightice]

It's hard to remember because so much of his personality is based on this ice-cold, no-mistakes persona, but Iceman isn't the lone wolf of the flyboys. People may just be tentative about approaching him because of his resting bitch face and his no-nonsense demeanor in a jet. He allegedly* got his callsign for the way he flies; he's by the books, never makes mistakes, and is ice-cold in the air. Never said anything about his personality on the ground. He probably (definitely) had a rough childhood with his family and sexuality and shit, but he found his people in the Navy.

The ordies (ordinance officers) and maintenance crews love him because he treats them as equals, not servants or lowly mechanics. He'll take time to talk with them, even if only in passing. Oh, he's great with names and I'm convinced that's one of the main reasons he made it so far in life because names hold so much power to friendships. Knowing someone's name instantly makes them feel appreciated like you care enough to remember their name, while may seem trivial it genuinely means a LOT on a ship of 5,000+ individuals where the pilots are basically royalty.

Maverick is the lone wolf. He's the socially awkward one. I mean people of the opposing gender are no problem for him because they're easy to impress. But his fellow aviators? Not as easily impressed. And when Maverick finally realizes he likes guys, too? Train wreck. Complete and total bumbling, fumbling idiot. If the shower scene has taught me anything, it's that he just avoids awkward social interactions whenever possible. A hot man trying to help him and give him advice (albeit a little rude, he's prob crushing hard too soooooo)? His first instinct is to turn around and not say a word like WTF was that Mav???? Just ask him out already!!!!

#***Or at least that's what people say as Goose tells it. I'm sure the real story is a safely guarded secret. #maverick doesn't know what to do when confronted with a hot man #my boys #iceman is gay #smh my head #get it together maverick #tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #top gun #tom kazansky #top gun: maverick #iceman #top gun iceman #top gun maverick #pete mitchell #icemav #i'm on top gun kick #well i'm always on a top gun kick but expect many more posts #just a little thing I wrote

[1800jjbarnes]

𝐒𝐚𝐟𝐞 | 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

【Synopsis】 : A rat in the pack left the world coming to a stretching halt. And now you have to live another's mark on your skin...

『Word count』 : 2.05k

Paring: Alpha!Wolf!Bucky x Hybrid!Bunny!Reader

[Warnings] : Betrayal. Lots of blood. Sexual assault. Forced markings and biting. triggers. Bucky goes full rage mode. Lots of gore.

✦ The ALPHA AND BUNNY Universe ✦ -> [Click Here]

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The night was the most dangerous time to be in the forestry. As the dark creatures come out to play, hunt and kill. Wolves ruled the night of the full moon. Some packs protect and ruled with firm kindness. But others ruled cruelly and fearfully. Tonight was one of these nights, the moon full and bright, hanging high in the sky. Most of the pack had gone out for the night to transform and scout the pack grounds. Some of the few stayed behind, protecting the den. You were enjoying the peace and quiet, not hearing the young kids screaming every night. You swear Peter can't get louder but every night you are proven wrong. Snuggled on a large armchair in front of a fire. You read your book in silence, that is until one of the new pack members came running inside, in a panic.

"Ms! Bucky and some others have gotten hurt, we need your healing positions!!" The new wolf huffed, panting from running. You jumped up and ran for the cupboards looking for the bottles of elixirs. The wolf tilted his head with curiosity, watching you scrounge around.

"Ah!" You spoke finding the bottles you need. "Okay, where are they." You look at him with determination but the boy shook his head.

"Wait no you can't go out, it's dangerous." His voice trailed off sounding almost not as sincere as you would have liked.

"What's more dangerous is, if he dies because I couldn't get to him in time. Now tell me where he is." You put your foot down, firmly talking to the underdog. He sighed before giving you directions with a map he had on hand. You thanked him before quickly running towards the gates, exiting the grounds.

You headed in the direction given, spotting the opening among the trees you heart slowed slightly, feeling relief you got to the location as swiftly as you could. Entering the opening you look around to see. Nothing. No wolves, no life... No injured Bucky. Where was he? Was this the wrong spot? But this was the place the young wolf marked on the map. Where did you go wrong? Looking down at the map you double-check to see what might have happened, but a snapping twig made your ears perk up. You turned quickly to see where the noise came from. Another snap and crunch of some leaves and sticks make your ears twitch as you try to look into the thick blanket of darkness.

"B-Buck..." You call out by it comes out more of a whisper, stepping a few steps back as the noise became louder and closer.

"Guess again Baby." A deep low growl echoed around you, sending shivers of fear running through you. A figure came out of the shadows, he is very tall and large. His slicked jet black hair tucked behind his ears. Your heart stopped, a gulp following. It was a rogue wolf. He should not be so close to the den... you thought. You step back another few steps as he steps forward. You kept doing this until your back hit the big trunk of an oak tree. You were frozen, moving slow, afraid that if you run he would rip you to shreds.

"What is a little bunny doing so far from their home? Unless... you must be the Rabbit that is mates with that alpha in this poor excuse of a pack." He bites, spit dripping from his snarled mouth. You felt a sense of anger surge through you, wanting to stand up for your pack, you scoff before stating;

"They are a better pack than yours." you shouldn't have spoken as he walked up faster, his dirty hand gripping your throat. His fingers squeezed tightly, his eyes glowing a bar of bright gold. His nose flared as a low growl rumbled in him. His hot breath smelt of blood and death as it pools on your face. Rogue wolves were known for killing hybrids, so your heart pounded from being so close to one.

"Speak out of line and see where that gets you bunny. Just because your mate is an alpha doesn't mean you've got immunity." He nosed brushed against your fluffy ear as he inhaled sharply, taking in your scent.

"You haven't sealed your mate bound with him yet. Sure I smell him but something is wrong..." His free hand trailed up your waist towards your chest making you squirm in his grip, trying to free yourself. His fingers catch on the collar of your shirt, tugging it away from you. "He hasn't marked you yet," he smirks, biting his bottom lip.

"Oh, this is going to be fun." He frees his grip on your throat before using the same hand to grab your wrist, pulling them above your head. You shake in his grip trying to free yourself but as much as you thrash around, you are no match for the strength of a rogue wolf. His fingers that grip your collar tug lower, ripping the top of your shirt.

"N-No please!" You whimper, tears breaking from your eyes, pouring down your cheeks. His low laugh sent cold goosebumps over your skin, fearing draining your blood to ice.

"Hold still bunny..." He bares his fangs as his golden eyes spear into your soul. Your heartbeat rings in your ears as the worse pain surges through your body... “This is gonna be fun…”

-

"Where is she!!" Bucky screams from down the hall after finding you missing from all the usual places you normally were. He walks into the main hall near the entrance seeing some of the young wolves. Lucas, the wolf that was left with you when they went out earlier that morning, was standing in a small crowd. Bucky's eyes caught his, glowing a deep gold, anger was surging through his body. Storming over to Lukas, Bucky gets straight into his face, pinning the kid to the wall behind him.

"I swear to god if you don't tell me where she is, I will rip your guts out and let them spill right onto this floor." His fingers gripped his throat tighter and tighter, threatening to crush the young wolf's windpipe.

"I-I-I..." Luke tried to speak but failed to think of the words. the other pack leaders came running to see what all the fuss was about, suddenly being met with a very angry Bucky.

"Bucky! Put the kid down!" Steve tried to use a stern voice trying to intimidate the alpha, but Bucky fought it off, blinded with pure rage.

"Speak! And you might get to live." Bucky growled. Steve went to pull Buck off the kid when Lukas suddenly spoke.

"I sent her to the opening out near flora range, I told her you were in trouble because a rogue hurt you." Bucky dropped the kid, feeling his heart stop. Flora range is where they knew some rogues have been spotted. It was off limits to everyone in the forestry in order to protect them. But he forgot to tell you and now you were in trouble.

-

The rogue through you against the tree in order to wind you with enough force. You tried gasping for air but his hand on your throat only gifted you shallow breaths. He towered over you, his face buried into your neck as his fangs sink deeper and he pushes his body flush against you. You had no more voice left to scream, no more life left to give. A lone stray tear spilled down your hot cheek, as his other hand that held your hips now slowly snakes to the hem of your shirt. Your heart was broken, feeling numb to his touch. And what was worse... you didn't feel your heart break from your pain, no, all you could think about was if Bucky was safe. Maybe you were foolish and too blinded by love to see your own suffering in front of you, but all you wanted was to know if was he okay...

"Get off her!!" A loud raw crackled in the sky, the thick air like a hot blade. Bucky jumped at the man in front of you, pushing him clean off and onto the ground with all his force. He hissed out in pain as his back hit the forest bed hard, winding him.

"My, My I was wondering when you'd show up." He coughed trying to catch his breath "You missed out on some very hot fun. Too bad I didn't get to the juicer bits before you got here." His words came to a halt as Buck pins him to the ground, knocking his nose clean with his knuckles. Blood spilled out his nostrils, covering the rogue's face, but all he did was laugh.

"Did I pinch a nerve?" He spat blood out of his mouth onto the floor. Bucky completely surged with rage, his eyes piercing gold as he snarls his fangs. He looked back at you for a moment, seeing you watching with no emotion, not thoughts, almost without breath. You held your hand up to your neck, gulping through a dry throat. Bucky sat straight up for a moment, spotting the placement of your hand, his nostrils flare seeing red cover his vision.

"You marked my mate..." Bucky turned his attention back to the limp wolf that lay below him, punching him yet again, and then another and then one more time. The rogue's face slowly became more and more unrecognisable as each blow landed, his eyes swelling, cheeks red and blood everywhere.

"I would have done more to her if you hadn’t shown u—" Before he could even finish his sentence, Bucky shoved his three fingers into the rogue's opened mouth, placing his pinkie and thumb under his jaw before pulling down quickly. A crack echoed through the silent forest, snapping muscles and tendons ringing in his ears. Blood projected upwards spray onto Bucky's face and neck. The rogue screamed from the base of his throat, his tongue no longer in use. He could feel every nerve being set on fire as slowly starts to crash from the loss of blood and jawbone.

Bucky stands up and towers over him, leaning down to look the dying wolf in the eyes, he wanted to watch him die, watch him take his last painful breath. He wanted him to suffer.

"Have a nice nap." the colour drained from the rogue's eyes as his life went from his form. Bucky turned his attention to you, immediately running over to you. You were still in shock, unable to move, you look at him as he grabs a hold of you. His touch brings you comfort as you feel yourself slowly return to the waking.

"Are you okay?" Funny how you are the one asking, when you were the one attacked, but yet you felt the need to make sure he was okay before your own safety. He hugs you tight as you nuzzle into his neck. Time was still, your body felt like it was floating. Bucky was scared, terrified that you had to go through what you did and see what he could be. A monster. But he pushes those thoughts for the moment, needing you to be safe first. He lets you go, quickly shifting into a black and dusted grey wolf. He leans down for you to get on his back so he can walk you home.

You take his offer without words, mounting him slowly. You lean down into him as he starts to walk away from the horror, away from the nightmare. The reality starts to kick in, and tears fill your dry eyes, while saliva pools back into your mouth. You were okay, yes and the mark on you will heal, since the rogue was now dead. But the scar will never leave you, the night will never not be a memory. You draw out a breathy sigh looking around as the glow flies start to appear around you, making you know you've entered safer grounds. Hugging his fur, you close your eyes as he ran far... Far from the mess, while he was now covered in another wolf's blood.

#1-800-jjbarnes #marvel #jjbarnes #bucky #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barns fanfiction #james bucky barnes x reader #alpha bucky #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barns angst #bucky barns imagine #bucky barns smut #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barns x you #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky fluff #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #james buchanan barnes x reader #james buchanan bucky barnes

[dragonknightcal]

Friends In All Shapes

"Hi!"

Twilight/Wolfie's head popped up as soon as someone spoke, seemingly right next to his face. He looked up and stared in confusion at the one who had spoken, expecting to see a small child.

Instead, a dog stood over him, curly tail wagging happily.

"Hi!" She said again, dropping into a play bow. "Who are you? You're a weird looking friend, but that's ok! I'm Winnie, are you staying long?"

Twilight blinked, still groggy from waking up so quickly. This dog, Winnie, spoke fast. Not at all like the dogs he was used to meeting on the road during his travels.

"Um, hello." He said uncertainly.

"Hi!" Winnie said again, hopping up and then flopping down on the ground, as if she had so much energy that she had to add steps to everything the did. "What's your name?"

She was persistent. He'd give her that. "Twi- Wolfie. I'm Wolfie."

"Oooh! That's a good name!" Winnie cheered, wagging her tail more and tilting her curly head curiously. "What kinda friend are you? I'm a golden-doodle, but Dodge says I have some Hylian Shepherd in me. He's kinda cranky."

Twilight blinked slowly, drawing himself into a sitting position and trying to process all the information she was throwing at him. "I'm...I'm not sure I know what what means." He said, tilting his head. What kind of friend was he? Did she mean dog breed? What in Hylia's name is a golden-doodle? Wild's time sure had some strange creatures.

"He's a wolf, you moron." A deeper voice said from the entrance of the stable, and both wolf and dog turned to look at the jet black dog lounging just inside the archway. He, unlike Winnie, had short hair and a keen eye. This must be the 'Dodge' Winnie had mentioned. He was, in fact, very grumpy, it seemed.

"A Wolf?" Winnie looked confused. "Nooo, those are the bitey ones with the mean faces. His face isn't mean, and he has people! He's a friend!"

Twilight tuned out the two dogs' conversation from there. It was too early for animal shenanigans, in his opinion. Speaking of people, he saw the group just inside the stable, all asleep save for Time, who seemed to be reading something. Upon closer inspection, Twilight could see the subtle grin on the old man's face as he watched the wolf and dogs from the corner of his eye.

'That bastard', Twilight thought. He was tempted to plot some kind of childish response to this betrayal and was soon provided that opportunity.

"Who's that guy?" Winnie asked, head suddenly popping into Twilight's face. "Is he your person?"

Twilight was about to deny it, he didn't belong to anyone, but a fiendish thought passed through his mind.

"Yeah." He said, tail wagging in excitement. "Why don't you go say hi? He loves dogs, and cuddles."

Winnie froze, body tense as a bowstring, then shot off into the stable on a mission to say hello to her new friend's person.

Twilight puffed up in pride when he saw Time get tackled by the excited dog, and preened at the laughter he heard afterward. 'That's what you get,' he thought to himself, secretly taking delight in his predecessors' happiness.

Dodge watched from his spot, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

"You're sneaky, I like that." The older dog said, stretching and standing up slowly. "Winnie has a few things to learn. She's still a pup, but maybe she's onto something with this friend nonsense." If a dog ever reminded Twilight of Time, it would be Dodge. The older dog carried himself in an upright posture, wise eyes now sparking with life and a need for trouble.

"Why don't we go say hello to that person of yours?" The elder dog said with deceptive calmness, and Twilight swore he saw Dodge wink. He bared his teeth in a wolfy smile, and the two took off towards Time, much like Winnie had.

That was a fondly remembered day in everyone's memory after that. Waking up to Time on the ground laughing with Wolfie and two other dogs on top of him was something the younger heroes weren't keen to forget.

He liked Wild's Era, he decided. Especially the friends he had made while he was there.

#wrote this because i needed my bb girl and her best friend in lu because yes #and fun fact in this story Dodge is actually familiar with the older version of Wolfie that traveled with Wild during his adventure #linked universe #lu #loz #linked universe wolfie #lu wolfie #linked universe twilight #twilight lu #lu fluff #cal writes #time lu #time linked universe #i love writing dogs dialog its so much fun #especially with two drastically different personalities

[keyofjetwolf]

Sure it's no parting of the Red Sea, but after my own personal struggle, I emerge with Passover Rules matzah and that's honestly very sexy of me.

#the batch not allowed to sit with the cool kids #might have gone over the time limit #so that might be for leftover charoset or something I don't know #anyway my jews have matzah SUCK IT PHAROAH #life with jet wolf

[thewulf]

Fool || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Can you write something about hangman x pilot!reader? also make it super fluffy? not a specific request I know, but I've having trouble finding new things to read. thank you!!

A/N: Okay! This was a BLAST to write! TY for the request!! Love my main man. This turned out way more angsty and spicy(ish) than I imagined but I think you'll love it. Let me know your thoughts!

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 4.2k +

“You can’t be fucking serious Seresin.” You nearly growled as you watched Hangman roll to the right after you expressly told him not to fucking roll to the right. He was supposed to stay straight ahead and head back to the aircraft carrier. But did he listen? No, he did not. His stupid big ass cocky brain would never take any advice. Soon enough it could cost him his life. One of these days it could really hurt him.

You heard him laugh. Laugh! The balls on that man were something else, “Don’t worry Wolfie. I’ll be just fine.”

You shook your head following as closely behind as you could. You heard your WSO, Beamer, curse behind you as you pressed your jet on further, faster. She could do it. You knew her limits. It’s what Maverick trained you for. You were built for this. Ready for this.

“What’s wrong?” You continued looking for Hangman, but he was going just as fast as you were.

“Bogies ahead. Six o’clock. Two of them.” Beamer shouted from behind you spotting something on the radar.

“I don’t think they’re friendly Beamer. Fuck, Hangman, did you copy?” You gunned it trying your hardest to catch up, but the motherfucker had other plans.

“What’s that?” You could practically hear the smirk dripping off his face with that comment alone. It took everything in your not to scream at the idiot of a man. You needed to get the hell over there to help him, but he was moving so god damn fast in the other direction. You’d never be able to catch him. Faster it was.

“Not friendly! Bandits! Six and eight Hangman!” Beamer shouted back in just as much frustration you seemed to be in. He didn’t have a back seater letting him know when objects were incoming. He was flying into what looked to be a trap.

“Shit.” You heard a pause before all hell broke loose on his end, “Wolf, got one on my ass.” He grunted.

“I’m on my way.” Panic rose through your chest, but you couldn’t freak out. Not yet anyway. This is when you needed to relax. Focus on the problem. The bandits. You needed to take the bastard that was following Hangman out. Calm down. Slow your heartbeat. Speed up. You could do this.

“Beamer, where are they?” You asked seemingly losing sight of them once you made it through the cloud bank. Where in the hell was that second bandit?

“20 degrees to your left, now!” He answered quickly forcing you to divert left. You dove seeing the planes up ahead. F-18 vs F-18 Super Hornet, it was up to the best pilot now. You gulped kicking up your speed even faster. Ignoring the grunt of your WSO you knew he was likely being flown into something bad. Hurry Wolf. Hurry. You pressed forward even faster. 690 knots ticketed upwards of 700 knots. You were blazing through the atmosphere. It was a damn good thing he was flying low, or you wouldn’t have been able to catch up.

710 knots. That was officially the fast you’ve ever flown. It didn’t seem like enough though. Like you weren’t going to make it soon enough.

“Hangman! Bank right 45 degrees.” You yelled knowing it’d give you a little more of a chance to catch up.

Thank God he actually fucking listened to you this time. His jet turned forcing the other F-18 to overshoot a bit. You knew the plan and had already been banking giving you the perfect shot on the enemy jet.

“Lock on Beamer!” You were yelling at your wizzo now. Sweat poured down your face as you maneuvered into a better position to help him lock onto the clueless pilot.

"Target locked!" He pressed on the second you heard the lock sound.

“Firing missiles.” As quickly as he spoke your hands were hitting the joy sticks. One second. Two. Three and then four.

“Target hit!” Beamer yelled out in joy seeing one of the missiles land dead on. You let out a sigh of relief seeing the other pilot was able to eject on time. As fucked up as everything was you never wanted to take a life. You’d always prayed they’d make it out in time. You’ve taken three jets down now. Tied with Jake. You saw two eject. You pretended the third did.

The celebration didn’t last for too long when you heard your jet being locked on, “Fuck.” You grumbled immediately heading for a nosedive. There was that second bandit. In hindsight you probably should’ve took your jet straight up, not down. You didn’t have much air space left to utilize at such a low altitude.

“Wolfie! 30 degrees to your right.” Hangman didn’t elaborate any further.

You had to trust him. That was rule number one in the field. Always trust your wingman and vice versa. Listening to him you punched it after leveling out and turning your joystick to the right.

“Shit, missed the shot.” Hangman grumbled, “Keep flying, I’ll come back around.”

“Hang on.” You spoke to Beamer after hearing his miss. Pressing the throttle all the way forward you nearly stalled the engines that were starving for the oxygen rich air.

“What are you doing?” Your WSO nearly gasped hearing almost every alarm on the jet ring simultaneously. You were going to starve the fucking engines if you didn’t move soon.

You smiled knowing this move was saved for very special occasions, “A move Maverick taught me.”

“Oh Christ.” He closed his eyes knowing whatever was about to happen wouldn’t be good for him. You were probably going to bend the damn air frame or something crazy like that. Mav tried to teach everybody. You were just one of the few who actually tried his bat shit insane moves.

“Relax B.” You grinned punching it once you saw the enemy jet fly by you.

“I’m going to throw up.” You could hear the sarcasm on his voice. He grunted as his butt hit the seat after floating for far too long.

You laughed pushing your jet once again. 620 knots. 630. 640. Come on baby. Let’s get moving.

“You’re about as well trained as Hangman up here. Puking over a little g-force?” You snickered to yourself knowing you could gut punch the both of them. Two birds one stone or whatever they say.

“Hey!” You heard both of them shout in unison. Men. They were just too fucking easy.

690 knots. 700. You heard Beamer groan from the back seat. You were really putting him through it on this mission weren’t you? A little bit more and you’d be able to shoot that jet down too. 710.

The smile adorning your face probably looked maniacal. But you didn’t care. You entered into another zone when you were in the air. It was kill or be killed in the air. Notably when you were in a dogfight. The odds were even higher.

“Target locked!”

You barely heard your wizzo before you fired for the jet ahead.

“Target hit!” He yelled in triumph. You slowed down before making a turn looking for a parachute. For anything. Kill number four. Ahead of Jake. One behind Mav. Two kills in one run. That was pretty damn remarkable. You heard muffled cheers in your ears but didn’t see a parachute. Four kills. Two chutes. Two nothings. Did that make you a killer?

“What the fuck was that?” You tossed your helmet to the side walking towards him. Charging towards him really. He just got you so damn worked up. The fucking idiot he was. A dumb arrogant idiot asshole. Now, you just needed to say it to his face.

He cocked his head to the side, “Thought I had him.” A slow smile spreading over his face seeing you so worked up.

You would’ve loved to punch him square in the nose, but you were on the carrier. In the middle of the ocean. That was the dumbest thing you could probably do. You weren’t even looking for a fucking thanks. Just an apology would be nice, “You’re such a…” You scrunched your nose up once you got to him. He was taller than you, by a lot. Still didn’t intimidate you. But you had to look up to him, quite literally.

His smirk grew, “Yes, doll? I’m a what?”

Shaking your head your pointed your finger right as his chest, “Fool. Jake Seresin. You’re such a damn fool.” You nearly hissed before spun around walking back for your helmet. You’d probably need to get that checked out. You threw it down pretty hard in your fit of rage.

In all your time working with him had you been so angry with the man. Hell, you’d even respected him a tad before this mission. The two of you were never close but you seemed to work well together, train well together. You knew his type and you were able to deal with it.

“Hey there! Slow down.” He grabbed your arm gently before your yanked it right back from him, “Have you been watching those sappy love drama movies? What’s it called? Pride and something? Fool. Who says that?” You felt the blood inside you boiling now. He really knew how to push it.

Giving him an almost bewildered look, you answered him, “Can you take anything seriously?” It was evident you were more than angry now. He knew he needed to tone down the jokes.

He put his hands up in surrender, “I’m sorry then.” He didn’t look sorry. Words meant nothing to you. Words were useless without action. Pointless. Words got people killed. Actions did too but words always stung worse.

You shook your head not accepting his apology, “For what Hangman? What are you actually sorry for?” It wasn’t the anger that got to him it was the sheer look of disappointment that crossed your eyes that made him reevaluate everything.

“I’m sorry you got chased.” He sounded unsure of his reply. Like he didn’t really know what he was apologizing for. Did he? Did he know why you were so upset? He didn’t. He didn’t have a clue.

You rolled your eyes before walking away again. You had to give him a bit of credit though, he sure kept tying, “You just don’t get it.” You sighed walking towards the locker rooms. At least there you’d get a reprieve from the arrogant man.

He panicked and followed you, “Get what?”

You stopped dead in your tracks. You weren’t like the other guys in your squadron. You loved flying but you hated killing. Hated the thought of taking somebody away from their families. It hurt you. Destroyed you. You thought about leaving for just that reason. And today? You’d probably killed a man or woman. Maybe even two. You never actually knew. And it was for nothing. It shouldn’t have happened. If he would’ve just listened to you the bandits wouldn’t have even spotted you. All that for naught.

“You think I like taking jets down? Killing people? Do you seriously think that I find enjoyment out of that? It makes me sick when I have to do things like that. That could’ve been somebodies dad. Somebodies daughter. Who the fuck knows Jake? I don’t. I never will. And now they’re just gone?” You were whisper shouting now. You’d never admitted anything like this to anybody. Not even your family. No therapist, military or civilian knew either. They didn’t need to know. So, you didn’t tell them. Not a soul, “If you just would have fucking listened to me I wouldn’t have had to do that!” Your voice was shaky now as you took off for the locker rooms. Tears on the edge of spilling over. You peered around thankful nobody was in ear shot. It was never a good thing to cry at work. You had like fifteen minutes before you had to report back for debrief. Fifteen minutes to get it the fuck together.

Jake just stood there as you dashed away. He could’ve followed but he knew you needed your space. You looked so hurt. So betrayed. He walked over to the locker room waiting for you to come out. You had to come out at some point.

He grabbed you when you walked out of the locker room. Your allowed yourself to cry for a few moments before you snapped it back together. You just hoped it didn’t show in your eyes.

It did. Jake saw it through your tear stained cheeks and your red rimmed eyes. He frowned feeling awful, “I’m sorry, Y/N. I… I wasn’t thinking.”

“Clearly.” You refused to look at him. You were still upset. You’d be upset for a little bit before you’d shake it off. It’s not like you had a choice. You’d have to fly with him again. You would have to figure this out at some point.

He looked down hearing the icy snap coming from you. You weren’t usually so forward with your emotions. Usually, you were cool calm and collected one. The one that fell in line. The one who knew her place was limited as a woman, and she needed to be strategic about it.

“Either say something or let me go. We’ve got a debriefing to get to.”

He snapped out of it, “They’ll wait on us, come on.” He took your hand without a second thought guiding you to the side of the carrier. He was smart, not many people came over here. There was a very low chance of getting caught back here. You let him guide you without much thought. You were afraid to admit how much his touch had an effect on you. It felt like there was a fire ignited in your fingertips creeping up your arm.

You didn’t want to admit that’s also why you were so worked up. You didn’t know how to tell the man that you had a rather large crush on him. How you wanted to be the one he flirted with at the bars. How you wanted to be the one he was so dead set on kissing at the end of the night. Who he got to take home. You wanted it. You and only you.

Only problem is you were you. You were one of the dudes. Wolfie. You’d gotten your call sign because you were all bark and all bite. You followed through. Tough as a wolf backed against a wall. You were flattered, truly. But it made you a guy. Not a girl. Not somebody he would think of. You’d probably be better off if you just cut it off altogether with Navy men and went for a civ guy. It’d be easier. Less games.

His expression softened seeing you in the anxious state you were in. You really didn’t like conflict. You didn’t enjoy being mad at people. You were a simple girl who liked resolution. It wasn’t like you get so angry, “Look, Y/N…” He sighed. He wasn’t good at this either. Sure, Hangman was a persona but owning up to mistakes that could’ve cost you your life? That was tough.

“I fucked up Y/N. I shouldn’t have done that. I overestimated my abilities. I could’ve gotten you hurt. I could’ve gotten shot down. It was dumb. And I put you in an awful spot. I’m so sorry. Truly.” He rambled off quickly.

Your eyes narrowed as your searched for any sort of sarcasm, “You mean it?”

He nodded his head looking away from you, “Yeah. I messed up.”

Unfolding your arms from your chest you gave him a curt nod, “Okay.”

“Okay?” He looked at you with a newfound hope in his eyes.

“Yeah, sure. It’s fine. Don’t do it again you dumb arrogant asshole.” A small smile crept over your lips letting him know you were just teasing. There was some hint of truth there though. He was a dumb arrogant asshole in that moment.

He pulled you into a hug. One that was different than the normal ones he gave you. This one was more meaningful. More thoughtful. He squeezed you a little bit tighter than he ever had before. Pulled you into his chest just a touch harder. He held you a little bit longer than usual.

“Thank you for saving my ass.” He whispered once he let you go from his embrace.

“I got your back. Any day. Any night. You know that Seresin.”

He nodding pulling you back in. How had he not seen it before? How had he not seen the treasure that you were right in front of his face. God, you were striking. You were everything he needed in a life partner. You were incredibly smart, so self-assured, beautiful beyond words, wittier than he could ever imagine, made him smile when he needed it, knew the right words too say… he was a dumb arrogant asshole. He liked you. Hell, he might’ve already fallen in love with you without even realizing it.

“Seeing that bandit chase you down was awful. And then when I missed… I’m so sorry. I failed you in every way.” You’d never heard Jake so sincere. Never heard him admit to so many fuck ups. It made you feel things you hadn’t ever before for him. Like he wasn’t just that fucking dickhead persona. There might’ve been a decent human being under the character you were sure he was playing.

You shrugged. Trying to play it off. You were never scared. You were determined to be the best in that moment. You had to be the best in that moment, or it could be you at the bottom of the ocean. A shiver ripped down your spine at the thought. It hit you sometimes just how damn dangerous your job was.

“It’s fine. Just listen next time? Okay?” It felt like for once you were actually getting through to the man. It’d been so surface level in the half a year you’d been stationed with him. This was a surprise, a pleasant one though.

“You got it Wolfie.” He smiled letting his hand drop from your shoulder. You really liked how it felt there. Not that you’d admit it.

“Let’s go. We gotta go get our asses chewed out by Cyclone.” You sighed not looking forward to it. It was supposed to be a simple bombing. Get it and get out. Clearly, that didn’t happen and now he probably had to do a lot more paperwork than he was expecting. Shooting down two enemy fighter jets was more serious than you would think. You were surely going to get interviewed over it.

“Don’t worry doll. I’ll take the heat.” He pushed you forward by placing his fingertips to the small of your back. You thanked your lucky stars you were in your flight suit, and he couldn’t see sheer amount of goosebumps that exploded across your body from his touch. God, how embarrassing. He didn’t even have to try, and you were already weak.

“You better. It was your fault after all.” You countered feeling more and more like yourself as you talked it out with Jake. This was the guy you had a mad crush on. Jake. Not Hangman. Jake Seresin, the cowboy from Texas.

He shook his head with a growing smile on his face, “You’re lucky you’re cute.” It slipped out so quickly Jake wasn’t sure if he actually said it. But there it was. It was out there now. You had to have known how adorable he really found you.

Your head whipped around quickly giving him your own version of a smirk, “You think?”

He had a choice. Play it off or go all in. He had hardly thought this was how his day was going to go. He didn’t even know he really liked you like that earlier this morning. Now here he was ready to admit to it? What in the hell was even happening? But who was he kidding? He’d be flat out lying to deny it. He wasn’t a liar.

“Know so.” He shot you a wink before grabbing a loop on your flight suit to keep you on pace with him. Fuck it. He’d decided he was going all in on you now. Might as well step his flirting game up with you while he was at it.

You were so shocked by his admission you hadn’t even realized the smooth ass move he pulled by literally pulling you along with him. The move was so confident you were practically on your knees already. He looked over seeing your dazed expression.

His deep chuckle brought you back to the present, “What’s the matter darlin’? Cat got your tongue?” He dropped his hand from the loop so close your chest.

You didn’t drop your eyes from his hand that had pulled you along with him, “No. Just thinking.”

“What about?” He raised his eyebrows challenging you. He was clearly feeling a whole lot better. He was laying it on thick.

“Work.” It wasn’t a lie. He was work. He was all you were able to think about.

He smirked as he knowingly brushed his hand along yours. God he was a pro. He knew exactly what he was doing to you, “Sure doll. I think you’re lying though. You were thinking about me.”

You shook your head quickly not daring to draw your hand away, “In your dreams Seresin.”

He ran his index finger along your pinky, taking any touch he could get, “What if I told you I dreamed about you last night?”

“Shut up.” You didn’t believe him as you pressed on.

“Got me thinking about you doll.” His long strides kept pace with your quicker shorter ones. He wasn’t letting you walk away from this one. Lucky for him it was at least a ten-minute walk to the captains office where you’d debrief. Plenty of time to get you admitting some feelings he knew you had. Not with those emotions he’d seen earlier.

“I said shut up Jake.” Rolling your eyes, you willed yourself to get to the captains office faster. He was so much taller it didn’t matter. You could be sprinting, and he’d still be right by your side.

He ignored you, “Thinking about how smart you are. How often you kick my ass. How often you save my ass.” His eyes lingered in your at that last statement.

“What are you doing?” You stopped looking at him desperately. What was he doing? Was he going to blow this whole nonexistent relationship up? It’s not like you were the best of friends to begin with. Casual acquaintances. Training enemies. Mission buddies who were far more successful than not. The two of you were dancing on something that was hardly even there.

He shrugged, “Telling you the truth.”

“Why?” You took a step back boxing yourself against the wall.

“Why not?” He took a step closer pinning you against the wall placing either hand next to your face. It was so silent you could’ve sworn he could hear the gulp you took trying to regain some composure. What in the hell was even happening right now? Sure, you’d been crushing on him for what feels like just as long as you’ve known him there’d been no sort of indication he’d had any inkling of interest.

“Anyway,” He only grinned seeing your face. You looked starstruck. Like you couldn’t believe what he was doing. Hell, he couldn’t believe what he was doing. He hadn’t even really properly thought it through. But he good feeling about it. A really fucking good feeling about it, “As I was saying. I was thinking about how fucking pretty you really are. Especially when you wear that yellow sundress. You’re a vision, Y/N.” He was so close. So, so close.

Your head spun with his scent and that admission. He smelled so fucking good. A mix of wood and cinnamon. It mixed with his natural musk oh so well. If you weren’t in the middle of the open you’d probably jump right on him intending to rip that suit right off of him. But you couldn’t those thoughts right now. Not when you were about to get your head chewed off. You were ten minutes late already. That was already a hole you had begun to dig yourself.

You looked from one of his eyes to the next. The overwhelming feeling to lean up and kiss his him was starting to take hold. What in the hell was the matter with you?

“Didn’t your momma teach you that lying’s bad?” You whispered. It was a way to ask for confirmation without straight up asking for it. A way for him to deny it for the lie it was.

He shook his head quickly, “I never lie. ‘Specially not to you doll face.”

Your mouth dried slightly. Your lips parted to respond before they closed. Cat really did get your tongue now, “Thank you, Jake.” You could hardly hear your whisper. But he sure did.

“Anytime darlin’. Now let’s go. Get this shit over with.” He took your hand in his once more. He wasn’t planning on dropping it until he got to that door.

He watched as you walked in. Fool. That’s exactly what he was. He was a damned fool not to see you right there in front of him. But he knew one thing. He wouldn’t let you slip away now that he knew what he had. You. He planned to make you the fool’s girlfriend soon. Very, very soon.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @dempy

#top gun maverick #top gun #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #hangman x y/n #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x oc #jake seresin #top gun imagine #jake seresin fanfic #jake x reader #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x oc #jake hangman seresin #jake x you #jake x y/n #hangman angst #hangman fic #hangman #hangman imagine #top gun hangman #hangman fluff #jake hangman fic #hangman fanfiction #jake seresin angst #jake seresin fluff #top gun movie

[is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not]

HGN-732bM "Old Bird's Nest"

BattleMech Technical Readout

Name/Model: Highlander "Old Bird's Nest" HGN-733bM Technology: Inner Sphere (Mixed) Technology Rating: F Tonnage: 90 Role: Sniper Configuration: Biped BattleMech Era/Year: Dark Age / 3150 Rules (Current): Experimental (Extinct) Rules (Era): Experimental Rules (Year): Experimental (Extinct) Total Cost: 16,131,760 C-Bills Battle Value: 2,735

Chassis: Krupp 255 Endo Steel Power Plant: Shelby/Ford 270 Walking Speed: 32.4 kph Maximum Speed: 54 kph Jump Jets: Pratt and Whitney 440s Jump Capacity: 90 meters Armor: Valiant Lamellor with CASE II Armament: 1 Holly "Ballista-20" LRM 20 w/ Artemis V FCS (C) 1 Krupp Sturmfeuer Light Gauss Rifle 1 ExoStar Pinnacle ER Medium Laser (C) 1 Harmon Starclass-ER ER Medium Laser (C) 1 Hegemony R&D Dept. Weapons Division ER Medium Laser (C) 1 Holly SideWinder SRM 6 w/ Artemis V FCS (C) 1 Clan Wolf Watch RISC Advanced Point Defense System Manufacturer: Skobel Mech Works Primary Factory: Yakima Proving Ground Maintenance Facility Communications: Studebaker-T19 with Neutron Star CEWS (counts as Nova CEWS) Targeting & Tracking: DeadEye Superlock 18K with Advanced Targeting Computer (C)

================================================================================================ Overview: Manufactured specifically for Star Captain/Colonel Melissa Hazen at the direct order of ilClan Ward, the HGN-732bM "Melissa" was designed to be as much a prototype of the HGN-732Ib "ilClan Highlander" as it was a command 'Mech for the newly resurrected Royal Black Watch. Stuffed to the gills with advanced systems for defense, mobility, and communication, as well as a impressive arsenal nearly equal to that of the original HGN-732b, the one-off prototype 'Mech has already come be known as the "Old Bird's Nest", an affectionate nickname referring to Star Captain/Colonel Hazen's advanced chronological age, and how much time she spends in the Mechbay, personally tinkering with and adjusting the 'Mech to her liking, sometimes even with the help of her personal Mech technicians.

Capabilities: Starting out life as the prototype of the HGN-732Ib, the "Old Bird's Nest" would soon see an almost continuous amount of tinkering and changing by technicians from both the ilClan and the reborn SLDF. Eventually, when Star Captain Hazen was frocked to the rank of SLDF Colonel to (eventually) lead the reborn Royal Black Watch, the 'Mech received a massive overhaul to become perhaps the most well-equipped Command Mech in the Inner Sphere. The upgrades started with a massively expanded and improved communications and sensor array with satellite uplink capacity. To this, the first unit of the experimental Neutron Star CEWS (based on Nova CEWS designs smuggled from the Clan Homeworlds) was linked, along with the DeadEye Superlock 18K Clan-spec Targeting Computer from the exact Hunchback IIC that Hazen used in her Trial of Position in the 3020s - this computer was not upgraded to modern specs by order of Hazen herself, save to add the advanced Variable Range Targeting program in trials for the HGN-732Ib. The weapons loadout is largely a replication of the old HGN-732b Highlander, though upgraded with modern technology. Mounting a Light Gauss Rifle in place of the standard Gauss of the HGN-732 was a decision by Hazen to gain more range at the expense of sheer damage output. The LRM-20 and SRM-6 remain, though upgraded with Artemis-V FCS. In a curious move that shows Hazen's admitted loveof the past, only one of the ER Large Lasers is a modern-manufactured Clan design - the others being one of the ER Large Lasers mounted on General Aleksandr Kerensky's Atlas II, and another the sole remaining weapon recovered from the irradiated wreck of Colonel Hanni Schmidt's Black Watch Highlander. A highly experimental RISC Advanced Point Defense System provides protection for the 'Mech and its starmates. The use of a Combat Computer helps the 'Mech's 20 Clan double heat sinks keep cool. Using a prototype Clan-spec Endo-Steel chassis, the "Old Bird's Nest" is covered in 17.5 tons of Valiant Lamellor standard armor, incorporating panels taken from the wreck of General Kerensky's personal Orion. A trio of Clan-spec Pratt & Whitney Jump Jets enable the 'Mech to execute Hazen's trademark extremely accurate "Highlander Burial", and prototype RISC Super Cooled Myomer technology helps the 'Mech keep cool even during movement, while Clantech CASE II protects the Mech from ammunition detonations.

Deployment: As the personal 'Mech of Star Captain Hazen, and soon to be the Command 'Mech for the Royal Black Watch, the "Old Bird's Nest" resides solely at the rebuilt Fort Cameron, just outside Unity City, Washington, Cascadian Administrative District, American Administrative Zone.

Variants: None.

Notable MechWarriors: Melissa "Mysty"/"The Old Bird" Hazen: One of the oldest and oddest MechWarriors in human history, Melissa Hazen was decanted, along with her 15 sibmates in 2990. As a Trueborn product of the Clan Coyote/Genecaste "Totem Warrior" program, she was part of an effort to create human-animal hybrid warriors - both to improve upon Clan phenotypes, and to embody the spirits of the totem animals of their respective Clans. After a successful career in an enormously popular holodrama, and after attaining three kills in her highly belated Trial of Position, Hazen, along with the others in the "Totem Sixteen" were sent on a scouting mission to the Inner Sphere. Joining up with the now-famous mercenary outfit, Fursona's Fusiliers, Hazen served with the unit for decades from the year 3025 onwards. Briefly taking extended leave to assist her Clan during Operation REVIVAL, Hazen returned to the Fusiliers to fight against the Word of Blake Jihad, and then as a mercenary for the Republic of the Sphere. During and after the ilClan Trial, Hazen and the others of the Sixteen fought on the side of Republic, but were spared by order of the new ilKhan. Biologically only in her late twenties thanks to the efforts of Project Totem Warrior, as well as later medical aid by the Terran Belters (on whose work the original project was based), Hazen has over over one hundred and fifty years of combat experience against virtually every foe in the Inner Sphere and Clan Homeworlds. This experience will soon be brought to the core of the revived Star League Defense Force, under which Hazen is slated to run the new incarnation of the Gunslinger program, as well as command the resurrected Royal Black Watch Regiment.

================================================================================================

Equipment Mass

Internal Structure: Endo Steel (C) 4.50 Engine: 270 Fusion 14.50 Walking MP: 3 Running MP: 5 Jumping MP: 3 Heat Sinks (Double): 10 20 0.00 Gyro: Compact 4.50 Cockpit: Standard 3.00 Armor Factor: 279 17.50 Type: Standard Internal Armor Structure Value Head: 3 9 Center Torso: 29 42 Center Torso (rear): 16 R/L Torso: 19 28 R/L Torso (rear): 10 R/L Arm: 15 30 R/L Leg: 19 38

================================================================================================

Weapons and Ammo Location Critical Tonnage

Jump Jet CT 1 2.00 CASE II (C) RT 1 0.50 Communications Equipment (2 tons) (C) RT 2 2.00 3 ER Medium Lasers (C) RT 3 3.00 Jump Jet RT 1 2.00 Light Gauss Rifle (Ammo 16) RT 1 1.00 Targeting Computer (C) RT 3 3.00 CASE II (C) LT 1 0.50 Jump Jet LT 1 2.00 LRM 20 w/ Artemis V FCS (C) LT 4 5.00 LRM 20 (Ammo 12) Artemis V LT 2 2.00 SRM 6 (Ammo 15) Artemis V LT 1 1.00 Light Gauss Rifle RA 5 12.00 RISC Advanced Point Defense System (Ammo 12) RA 1 1.00 Nova CEWS (C) LA 1 1.50 RISC Advanced Point Defense System LA 2 3.00 SRM 6 w/ Artemis V FCS (C) LA 1 1.50

================================================================================================

Alpha Strike Statistics

Point Value (PV): 63 TP: BM, SZ: 4, TMM: 1, MV: 6"j Damage: (S) 5 / (M) 5 / (L) 3, OV: 1 Armor (A): 9, Structure (S): 7 Specials: CASEII, ECM, IF1, MHQ3, NOVA, PRB, RAMS, RCN

Quirks: The HGN-732bM "Old Bird's Nest" variant is subject to the following Design Quirks:

Battle Computer

Combat Computer

Cowl

Cramped Cockpit

Difficult Ejection

Difficult to Maintain

Improved Communications

Improved Sensors

Multi-Trac

Non-Standard Parts

Reinforced Legs

Variable Range Targeting

#battletech #mechwarrior #muse lore #battlemech #no this is in no way balanced #it should probably have the Illegal Design Quirk #just from the Quirks list alone

[roodles03]

Hunter's Room (Fan Design)

It is about time I finally did this, now I can make so many drawing ideas come true with a room for Hunter designed. Also, for those who read my "Timeskip Watching and Dreaming AU" series of fanfics on A03, this is what Hunter's room looks like. This room is a room in Darius' house, so yippie Dadrius.

Alright, I know the doors can be confusing to let me break this down.

The door on the south wall with the small cuckoo clock like doors is the door to exit the room. I put cuckoo doors on the door because it's for Waffles.

The door that's on the wall that's jetting out is the door to the walk-in closet

And the the door on the west wall is the door to Hunter's private bathroom.

I originally wanted to do the entire Deamonne household at once, but, no way that would take forever. Maybe I'll do parts of it in the future but for right now, NO. If I did, I'd probably do Darius' room next and the living room after that.

This took such a long time to design, and it was my first time ever designing a background completely on my own. I needed to take off the training wheels and design my own background for once, and for my first attempt, I think I did a decent job.

The only thing that I couldn't add is a ceiling fan, but that was only because of the angles I had. I'm sure I could've if I had a different angle. Im going to have to design that separately.

This took since October 20th to finish, I probably could've got it done faster, but uni kept me busy and such. Either way, now that I've finished this, I can't wait to make drawings with this room. Yay!

Alright so: Tumblr exclusive content from here on out since insta has a stupid character limit, and their cropping system sucks

I'm gonna go on an infodump to why I decided to put almost everything here in Hunter's room.

North Wall:

Bed: I decided to make the headboard and footboard a cherry colored wood because Hunter would definitely like cherry wood because it's reddish. Referencing Willow's headboard that has a flower, I changed that into a bird for Hunter. I gave him a blue blanket in reference to Waffles. I headcannon that Hunter LOVES plushies, so I gave him some plushies I'd think he'd like. He'd definitely like squishmallows, so I gave him a blue-jay, cardinal, and wolf squishmellow. I also gave him a small wolf plush, as well as a small parrot plush and a peacock plush. The Sprig plushie is special, as it's not the same one as he had in the castle. It's a life-sized one Willow won him at a carnvial. (Reference to one of my fics).

Nightable: Nothing much to say here outside of the fact that I felt like Hunter would need one. I gave him a crystal ball because I felt like he'd like one.

Desk: This is where Hunter does work, from designing clothes to sew to studying for school. He has a log of regluar wood to practice carving on. (This room is set when Hunter is still a kid early during the WAD timeskip) He also has a punch a pencils, a desk lamp, and some books on there.

Corkboard: Hunter keeps notes for his school studies, and personal projects here. Sometimes he doodles things and puts them up there, such as the wolf and birds doodles.

Wall: Hunter would 100% be that person to have a trillion posters. I gave him a Flyer Derby poster, and a hummingbird poster. The Ruler's Reach poster is actually signed by King himself. Here's also a wolf calender, since I'd figured he'd like that, and a cuckoo clock that I headcannon Hunter and Dell carved together.

Bookshelf: On the bottom shelf, Hunter keeps a bunch of random books he likes.

On the second shelf, he has a photo of Flapjack, textbooks for his abominations and potions classes, and a photo of Willow

On the third shelf, he has textbooks for his illusions, construction, wild magic, plants, beastkeeping, and runes classes.

On the forth shelf, he has a photo of Darius, textbooks for his bard, oracle, and healing classes, and a photo of Waffles.

On the top shelf, he has his two favorite books of all time, Cosmic Frontier and Ruler's Reach, specially displayed with them propped up.

Jesus, that was by far the longest description we'll have.

East Wall:

Window: Hunter has a basic window with blue curtains. I originally wanted to make the curtains space themed for Cosmic Frontier, but then realized that would be a pain to draw over and over again, so I kept it blue. Maybe I can make Hunter's shower curtain space themed instead.

Other then that, there is nothing new on this wall that I'd like to cover. (I'd rather cover things that appear on other walls in their sections)

South Wall:

Wall: Hunter has two more posters on this wall. A Cosmic Frontier Poster. This is a reference in itself, where in Star Trek, the equivalent of O'Bailey has an asian wife that is a Bontonist, and that is sorta a parrel to Huntlow. So I decided to make a headcannon design for both O'Bailey, and the Bontonist I decided to rename to Aiko. So boom. Huntlow reference. The other poster is simply a wolf poster.

Box: This is pretty self explanatory. Its a box with sewing supplies.

Mannequin: Since Hunter sews, I'd imagine he'd like to have a mannequin to help make the clothing design process easier.

Table: This is the same sewing Machine from Thanks to Them, as Camila gave it to Hunter as a gift.

West Wall:

Outside of the door of the bathroom, there is nothing new on the west wall that I haven't already covered.

Bonus:

Here is the original blueprint for the entire Deamonne household. I could go from here and design every last aspect of the house, but that would take ages. I'd definitely like to, but its just so much work. Like I said, the next two rooms I'd design are Darius' room and the living room. Plus, Hunter's room was by definition going to he the hardest, since he has the most stuff and therefore detail in his room.

For when I wanted to focus solely on Hunter's room, I referenced the upstairs blueprint snd made a more detailed blueprint just for his room. As you can see, A LOT ended up changing from this to the final version.

#the owl house #the owl house fanart #the owl house hunter #hunter the owl house #hunter toh #toh hunter #hunter deamonne #hunter park #hunter noceda #dadrius #darius deamonne #Deamonne Household #Darius toh #toh darius #the owl house darius #darius the owl house #toh fanart

[yannaryartside]

The table scene: I will hold the world for you

Promises and friends with insecurities

This scene was the culmination of their arcs in this season; their arcs, in some senses, had nothing to do with each other but everything about wanting each other and figuring out how this partnership was essential to each other. Another long one.

Under the table is their relationship, trying not to collapse under the burden of the table, the world, and their trauma. 

Sydney had started the season wanting to be a partner to Carmy and finding a partner with him; he was, for her, a vehicle/support to tackle the big wolf of her insecurities, thinking her failures were her own fault, her burden. She was tired of feeling alone and not enough to walk the path of hurt, trials, and disappointments that her life has been. Carmy was also tired of feeling alone, of feeling unlovable. He saw a way to heal that in Claire and took it. In the process, he disappointed Sydney in his lack of commitment to the restaurant (and her); both were jet to decipher the true feelings they hold for each other, a truth that was to be set in the background, simmer and simmer, and then explode.

The explosion for Sydney occurs inside; she realizes little by little how much Carmy reveals to Claire. The explosion for Carmy went the inside out, the panic attack scene showing him what he had suspected all along. He was forced to confront the fact that his bond with Claire, even if he had feelings for her, was not enough to push away his fears and trauma (this was not a secure attachment; it was never based on two people actually knowing each other, or healthily supporting each other). I LOVE Carmy's face in this scene btw; he is so happy to see her in his mind; the fucker is like, "Oh, there you are; wtf can you do this to me? But thank god you do"

Sydney experienced Carmy pushing her away more and more as the season advanced, all while Carmy grew in discomfort with his "relationship" with Claire. Carmy and Syd tried their ways to make the situation more bearable. Sydney tried to communicate her needs for support in this scary process of creating a restaurant (trying to ignore her feelings); Carmy, being a clautrofuck of emotions for getting what he wanted for so long, to still feeling shit about it, was terrified of losing Sydney and tried to create a menu "for her" instead of "with her." But they never reached each other truthfully, even after this point, because they were so afraid to lose that glimpse of security they provided each other that they never went to the core of their fears. (they abused the "I am sorry" sign, made assumptions, and held to reservations and resentment).

They are walking on shifting sands, uneven terrytiory=uneven table.

AND THEN, THE TABLE SCENE

The blocking of this scene is phenomenal. They changed positions when they were changing about subjects in the conversation. All while they are trying to fix an uneven table. It is uneven because neither of them knows where they truly stand as partners, and yet, the scene manages not to be about partnership, but about relasionship, and frienship.

In the beginning, when Carmy shares his "burden" for this season: his relationship with Claire, the fact that she is excellent, but he cannot separate his trauma from her, not knowing what even a secure attachment is. Carmy is lying on the ground, his being exposed and vulnerable, resting. Sydney is holding the table when he explains all this to her while he is fixing "his side" of the table, his trauma, and his mistakes that had damaged their harmony. He acknowledges it and promises his entire focus from now on. Sydney also takes a moment to recognize that whatever Carmy has with Claire is something that he needs at some level, regardless of how that makes her feel (helathy or not, she sees that at some level, he wants it). She is holding the other side of the table. She is preventing it from collapsing on him, like he is giving him a space to feel his feelings, regardless of the pressure they both endure, as she has done with her actions all season. 

This is not about why she is carrying the restaurant herself, and neither is a way to imply she had to do it in order to be a good friend, of course not, but that is not what this scene is about. I think the conclusion of service in Service in Friends and Family is a more appropriate conclusion for Carmy's absence, and a better "punishment" even if she has yet not expressed how abandoned she felt by him, and all the ways he failed her, and let his trauma handle his time and his partnership with Sydney like shit. They may not be ready to be able to talk about that, nor do they know how to fix it. The service scene served for him to understand how badly he was not around. Decorated with the fact Sydney was able to guide the kitchen relying on others, being the true leader the restaurant needed.

The table scene, for me, is not about resolving any of that, it is about promises. Promises to find answers and realizing what they provide for each other.

The table scene is about two friends talking about their insecurities.

She holds the table while he confesses something he has never said out loud to anybody. Sydney is providing Carmy in this scene something he has never had: "a person to trust, to understand and to understand him, a person to know everything about, a best friend," anybody that he tried to form this with has hurt him at some point, Mickey being the most painful example, whatever he has wit Nat, or even Richie, doesn't come close by miles, he still carries reservations around them. He seems to have tried to establish that with Claire, surprised at how empty it left him anyway.

But when Carmy says "say more," asking her to change positions, now she is the one underneath, fixing her side of the table, laying on the ground, vulnerable, while he holds the other side. She lays down her fears of her past failures collapsing on her all at once, all the reasons she has always suspected she is not good enough for this, and he is the one reassuring her, holding the other side of the table, preventing the world (the pressure/trauma) from collapsing on her, giving her a space to confess without judgment. He gives her exactly what she needs; not only is she good enough for this, but not only does he know the desire to help people that drives her, but if fear creeps in, whatever obstacle or failure they face, he will hold her, and "they" will work on it. All this, all the things he gets from her too, he sees her, understands her, believes in her, and promises to be there for her, a best friend.

If anything, regardless of the context of what they need to do this in the first place, particularly on Carmy's part, even if is only promises for the momment, the table scene is a beautiful description of a partnership: you are not on uneven territory anymore; I will be the ground you walk on, I will build you up, I will give you a space to feel your feellings.

I couldn't do this without you I wouldn't even wanna do it without you You make me better at this I wound't let you (fail)

The harmony is restored, the ground of trust is settled, the table (the world/the trauma) is not collapsing on anybody, they both are compromised on a goal: supporting each other, whatever that leads them. Whatever that will mean in the future, finding new boundaries, ways to complement and help each other, maturing emotionally. These feelings? I don't know how to deal with them, but I will stand beside you.

Most importantly, they both realized that this security they give each other...they want it; they only had an idea of what their partnership could be at the beginning of the season, and now it has been revealed to them, just a taste, enough to get their hearts...wanting for more. 

You are not alone

#I know btw I am cutting Carmy a lot of slack #but I will make every post two paragrapths to long talking about his emotional inmaturity #but really this is such a great description of partnership #providing ausemnet #support #wtf #at least as long as is healthy. nothing like the “no apologies” bullshit please and thank you #sydcarmy promises for s3 my dude I cant wait #sydcarmy #sydney adamu #carmy berzatto #the bear fx #the bear #carmy the bear #carmy x sydney #the bear meta #carmen berzatto #sydney x carmy #the bear is a love story on such an essential level that it doesn't make sense without it #also if you see a typo in my tags no you didnt #english is not my first language #I am not putting gramarly to my tags my dignity cant take it