#soap is a pup/mutt and we all know this

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

[Just corrupted anon again]

Johnny has a thing for Stoic!Reader because of the mystery behind them, always keeping a poker face even in dire situation and the strong, powerful aura that reader has but it's also reassuring. A mix between Price and Ghost the stern yet comforting from Gaz.

Johnny knocking on stoic!reader's door because Price had asked him to get the paperworks that were needed but ends up just stammering towards reader because the way reader speaks is so emotionless and stern, it sends him into a horny frenzy-

Finally telling stoic!reader what Price wanted, reader dismisses him but he doesn't leave and just stands there like a sweet, lost puppy and who is totally not horny or anything because reader is only in a black tank top and their cargo pants while reader does paperwork.

Stoic!Reader casually staring at Johnny because he hasn't left and asks if there is anything else.

Johnny stutters as he tries to explain that Price, Ghost and Gaz were getting ready for a mission, clenching onto the documents, trying to ask a certain question because poor pup was going to be alone for quite awhile but ends up silencing himself and leaving. 'Cause why would reader do that for him if reader was aroace? (again, sue me).

Not even 2 weeks in when the other three were gone. Johnny pathetically asks Stoic!Reader if they could fuck him.

Stoic!reader who wanted to say 'no' till they saw the twitching outline of Johnny's bulge and felt a twinge of pity for Johnny boy and sighs.

Stoic!reader who says 'yes' but only on one condition which makes Johnny happy, though the next day Johnny was now on his hands and knees with stoic!reader prepping his rim to take in the strap-on they bought online together (Johnny totally didn't get the overnight shipping).

Johnny is already a squirming mess as he came twice already from being prepped by reader. Reader obviously not done with Johnny, had already put the big, girthy, bumpy strap-on, on already and grabs him roughly by his mohawk. Rubbing the plastic-rubber against his weeping cock gathering the cum and proceeds to rub coated strap-on onto his ass, slicking it up before pushing it to the hilt.

Pathetic whining moans leaves Johnny's lips as he's drilled onto Stoic!Reader's bed like reader hates him, shocking Johnny at the full force that comes from reader's frame, he never would've guessed reader would have it in them to be this way. Letting him orgasm in this position twice before doing it once missionary.

Johnny already an overstimulated little pup on stoic!reader's bed, crying from too much pleasure and was ready to give out, to fucked out to even help reader orgasm. But don't worry, reader already had a plan for that.

Stoic!Reader pushing Johnny's legs up, stroking the tip of his cock before guiding it into reader's hole making poor Johnny weep from overstimulation, pain and pleasure. Knees behind Johnny's ass while holding his legs up as reader fucks down onto him, closing in on their own orgasm and Johnny building up his, what? 5th? 7th orgasm? He doesn't know.

Neither of the two hearing the sound of multiple boots hitting the floor nearing reader's barracks. The door opening as both Johnny and Reader orgasms at the same time.

Johnny looks weakly at the other three with a smile, who stared at Stoic!Reader in shock, Reader's expression remains stoice but as their eyes trailing down the three men's body already seeing their growing bulge, stoic!reader gives a small smirk and removes themselves from Johnny (who totally didn't pass out).

Well shit. Price, Ghost and Gaz later on couldn't remember that reader smirked at them, nor did the four remember that reader pecked their foreheads as they all lay together, asleep, after being fucked and looked after by reader.

Stoic!reader who finishes changing, closes the door quietly letting their four boys sleep. Till next time.

I-

NOW HOLD ON JUST A MINUTE-

THAT MADE ME FEEL THINGS

ANON, I DON'T KNOW WHO YOU ARE BUT YOU JUST WROTE SOMETHING SO GLORIOUS AND I-

YOU'RE NOT RECENTLY CORRUPTED, YOU'VE **BEEN** CORRUPTED AND I, FOR ONE, AM ABSOLUTELY EATING IT UP

[quarterlifekitty]

lol would it be weird if you made a ‘scene’ between tramp soap or…

since we all seen and read many scenes about hybrids or wtv

OR! if youre not up to that then can you extend on reader having a litter. About the owners reaction being totally flabbergasted at the growing roundness that was randomly thrown upon them and the difference in soaps behavior, extra protective, clingy and always there!!!

and the owners panicking when its time to have the litter, stressed from the sounds and reactions from reader

(NOT to be weird anything, im a vet and love when rescue animals have babies)

You know I actually just realized the other day that I’ve been weirdly chaste abt the hybrid shit lol. I’m used to thinking abt being a catgirl or a bunnygirl or a doggirl getting FUCKED. But then I accidentally wrote nothing fucked up and nasty lmao.

In other words, you’re not weird.

cw: hybrids being fucking horny

Johnny does start hanging around initially because he loves your scent. A young, fertile lady. And he’s not going to deny it— he’s a slut, and he’s got a thing for debutants. Spoiled girls, dressed up in bows and collars, perfectly groomed— perfect for getting ruffled.

And when he first start meeting with you every morning, he has ulterior motives. He’s planning on hitting it and quitting it. He’s dreaming of you pinned under him, taking his knot as he fills you— probably for the first time in your life.

(If it’s not, he’ll bet you’ve only had cold, clinical fucking— some high-born, boring stud picked out just so your owners can have little yous running around. It would make sense— you’re clearly pedigree.)

He’s used to girls like you treating him like a tramp, calling him a mutt, but finding themselves bent over and begging for it anyways.

So he’s a little caught off guard when you’re sweet. Bringing him treats from inside, playing with him in the yard, trying your best to introduce him to Price and Nik, oblivious to how they regard him as a nuisance at best. It just makes him want you so much more.

He decides to take it slow with you. He can tell you’re a little shy. He can’t help but growl a little, deep in his chest, at the sounds you make when he paws at your breasts while he kisses you. (It was laughably easy to get you addicted to kissing, you were already so affectionate to him).

He’s been visiting for a few weeks by the time you spread your legs and let him push his tongue into you, lots of him saying “you’ll like it, I promise, hen”. And he’s smug as hell when you cuddle into him after he makes you cum, kissing him and grinding against him instinctually.

The timeline of things just happens to play out in a proper way. He’s become a right house pet by the time he dicks you down for real. A bit of a play chase for a bit, to get you excited, then he can’t hold himself back anymore. He’s rutting his hard, leaking cock against your wet cunt, teasing the tip against your clit until you beg him for it.

“You wan’ me to fuck you, hen? Shove my knot in you and give you pups? Lassie, you dinnae ken how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

Thankfully, your owners were out that day.

[tradgedyinwaves]

Ok, this might be weird or I'm weird. Who knows.

But some sort of primal play and petpay w reader Ghost-owner!Price and Soap-owner!Gaz

Like leashes puzzles, mitts, reader gets tucked six-ways-to-Sunday🤭

Soap beeing to eager and stuff.

Go crazy🩷

I really love your writing😘

-🏇🏻

I'm going to start this off by saying I know almost nothing about any kind of primal or pet play. Hope you enjoy! (partially inspired by another writer)

tw: orgasm denial, bondage, caging, pet play, dp

When you were led into Price's bedroom, you were met with quite the sight.

Ghost was caged, sitting in the kennel with his wrists and knees bound together, naked as the day he was born. A soft gag was in his mouth as he let out a pathetic whimper.

Soap, though. Soap was seated in a chair next to Ghost, secured to said seat with handcuffs and rope, naked as well. But the most interesting thing was the muzzle keeping his jaw shut.

A hand came up to hold your jaw facing them, gentle but firm.

"Would you like to help us teach them a lesson, pet?" Price rumbles into your ear, low and gravely.

"You see, love. These two mutts thought they could play and we wouldn't find out. So now they get to watch while we give our perfect little bunbun here all the pleasure they wanted to take for themselves," Gaz explained quietly, dragging the backs of his knuckles down your arm.

A shiver ran down your spine before Gaz placed his hands on your upper arms and led you to the bed. Price stepped away to check their pups bindings which only had Soap whimpering and whining, tugging at his cuffs and ropes.

Gaz removed the pretty dress you'd donned for your date with your owners, letting the soft fabric pool on the floor before tossing you onto the bed for a very long evening.

By the time you were speared on Price's lap with his thick cock stretching your little cunt to the limit, Gaz had worked his length into your guts and the two were now pistoning into you at opposite times.

It was the fullest you'd ever been and you were sobbing into Price's shoulder from the intensity of all the sensations battering your used body. You could already feel your fourth orgasm of the night building inside you, the coil tightening impossibly in your belly.

Ghost sat in his cage, cock leaking as he watched his owner plow into your sweet heat. His eyes were glued to the way you stretched around him. Soap on the other hand was a whimpering whining mess. He wanted to be in your position and also be the one rutting into your perfect body.

When your orgasm crashed through you and you let out the most beautiful cries, Soap growled in his muzzle as his cock began pumping out his own release. Oh, he'd have to pay for that. Ghost was a good boy now, gritting his teeth as he fought the urge to follow in Soap's steps. Averting his eyes, knuckles pushed into the floor of his cage so hard he thought he might crush them.

It only took a few more pumps before your owners were bullying all the way into you as they emptied their balls into your used holes.

Gaz moved first, pulling out and sitting back on his haunches to watch his cum drip over Price's balls and onto the bed. His attention turned to Soap and tsked. "Looks like you need to go in the crate, boy." Soap shook his head before hanging it in defeat, knowing he'd messed up.

Price took his time offering you the comfort and solace you needed in the aftermath of such a ruthless fucking. Meanwhile, Gaz released Ghost, fingers looped into the collar around the behemoth's neck as he ushered his own pet into the crate. He locked Soap in, still covered in his own mess

"Ghost here was such a good boy, Cap. Think he deserves a reward, hm?" Gaz's attention looked down at the man and scratched under his chin. Price looked up over your head as he held you to his chest, hands soothing up and down your back even while his cock stayed buried inside you.

His eyes narrowed as he took in the state of his pup, a wicked grin moving under his mustache. "Here, mutt," Price called to Ghost, who eagerly came to the side of the bed on all fours. Price reached up and patted your ass, a gesture Ghost knew to mean 'mount'.

Coming up behind you, you felt the weight of his hands on your hips as he practiced the highest level of control he knew. It wouldn't end well for him if he just thrust into you as hard as he could, so he took it slow, filling you inch by inch.

You let out a soft sound, burying your face into Price's neck. Once Ghost was fully seated, hips flush against your ass, Price held up a hand to stop him from beginning to fuck into you. "Cum, boy. Fill her up."

Ghost's eyes widened slightly before the wall came crumbling down and he started to shoot rope after rope of his cum into your used hole. His body curled over yours as he did, chest flush against your back as you whined softly.

These days always ended in a massive cuddle pile, curled up under the blankets with your face pressed into Ghost's chest with Price at his back. Soap would normally be at your back with Gaz on the other side, but the poor man was still serving his punishment. Caged, muzzled and left naked.

Don't worry. He'll get let out...eventually.

I'm not super impressed with this but I hope you enjoy!

[auspicioustidings]

Okay, but she needs a tail for training! First step. Her poor boyfriend is so confused! Tail’s are fun! Why crying? She has to take one of *his* tails though. Even his training tail was too big to take without tears. Cheek to the floor arse in the air as ‘Ghost’ takes no mercy in slowly sinking the toy to the hilt. Her boyfriend at her behind, licking at her skin as his dead-brained attempts at comforting her. Johnny and Gaz coo smile Price just huffs. “It’ll be over soon if you relax, pet.”

Yes, she’s the bitch for their dog. They didn’t originally want her. But, can we get to see them grow to adore having her around? They adore *them both* maybe get jealous boyfriend while broken by them, still clearly favors his girlfriend…. Subconsciously, they can’t even blame him for it.

(My *fake* boyfriend looks like Robb Stark, auburn curly hair, blue eyes, scruffy facial hair, Scottish accent. It’s how he met his fate. He met Soap in a bar in Scotland…)

In relation to this post btw. Urgh you are so correct this was what was on my mind when I suggested she doesn't get her own toys, she has to take what their good boy shares with her because it's all TOO FUCKING BIG. And they all just shrug it off and say she can take it, it's what a bitches holes are there for after all.

Ghost is the meanest to her, like he makes no secret that he did not want this bitch. But I imagine he is like one of those dads who says they don't want a pet and then a few months later they dote on the pet. He'd deny it obviously, but something about the way she resists so beautifully when her boyfriend broke so quickly just gets him. He secretly loves that she insists on barking in person talk to him, he loves that he gets to take her out of the house and she will disagree with him and fight with him and have in depth conversations with him (she can't do much about getting away, not now that she's chipped and her boyfriend is only too happy to wear a shock collar so she knows if she runs then he gets punished and she gets hunted). When none of the others are around and they are out of the house, he very much finds himself treating her more like a person than a dog.

And the first time she voluntarily goes into pup mode? She does it because Ghost's good boy is sick and in distress and won't accept any human comfort. She let's herself go fully dumb brained and animal for him. And the fact that she's going against her own wants to help the absolute apple of Ghost's eye? Yeah, he stops threatening to take her to the pound after that (the pound here is I imagine run by either Kortac or the Shadows and is where unruly mutts go to have a real bad time).

[puppybah]

Its been a month since I made a headmate. A typical 2020's cringe danganronpa kinnie?

Name: Mikan, Ouma, Arson, Kai + a few more

Chrono Age: Skip this, chrono age mention makes me uncomfy/srs

AgeID: 14 + Permateen

Age Labels: Creators choice

Pronouns: Creators choice, purely neopronouns please

Gender: ALL the edgy xenogenders!

Sexuality: Creators choice

Paras: Creators choice! Please include A4M!

TransIDs: Creators choice! Please have a big hoard of them. /NF

Source: Brainmade

Other: Mikan Tsumiki and Kokichi Ouma kin for fun with a typing quirk! Please add a faceclaim too

FIRST REQUEST,,, I HOPE I DID GOOD 😵‍💫

Name: Mikan, Ohma, Arson, Kai, Moth, Tooth, Bunny, Void, Moss, Alien, Mochi/Mocha, Yuki, Shroom, Sock, Worm, Fern, Mars, Slime, Ash, Sage, Bones, Grass, Gutz/Guts, Chaos, Bug/Bugs/Bugz, Saturn, Jupiter, Aspen, Leaf, Soap.

AgeID: 14

Age labels: Age non conforming, Age coded, Choice age, Chronoageless (so they dont have one), Comficage, Intra-Teen, Perma-Age, Perma-Teen, Anicharage, Fictikinage

Pronouns: Buckle up this is a long one. Fern/Bunny/Paw/Needle/Gore/Rot/Blood/Lilly/Lav/Pup/Kit/Cat/Soft/Cry/Petal/Rose/Rain/Dog/Mutt/Oak/Fungi/Sprout/Thorn/Wood/Rock/Lake/Water/Pond/Gill/Fin/Glub/Pearl/Kelp/Fish/Splash

Gender: I know you said ALL but I can noottt include all but I made a pinterest board of genders for this > Board.

Sexuality: Polyam aroacespec (Demi) biromantic pansexual. Gotta get em all in there.

Paras: A4M, Stimphilia, Cheirophilia, Cardiophilia, Hypersexuphilia, Fictophilia

Transids: I do not have the energy to link a bunch of these to a wiki and some may not be coined but here we go! Transtrauma, Transharmed, Transmedicaltrauma, Transpsychwardtrauma, Transpsychwardpatient, TransSH, Transautism, TransADHD, TransDID (Alter identifies as having), TransOSDD, DNIhoarder, Triggerhoarder, Transtriggers, ForcedAntiship (Secretly proship), Transdigital, Transdanganronpauniverse/world, Transfictional, Transharem, Transharmless, Transnice, Transkiller, Transmuderer, Transkin, Translainpilled, Transname, Transinternettrauma, Transgroomed, Transhypersexual, Nullbully, Nullmean

Source: Brainmade

Other: Mikan and Kokichi KFF.

Typing quirk: H1 1 AM TYP1NG TH1Z!!

Faceclaims included in pintrest board!

[kalixora]

Man's best friend

Soap x reader

Reader has three military-trained dogs, each with a distinctive set of skills.

Note: I've never played any of the games, so please excuse any inaccuracies. Due to the use of Google Translate, any languages displayed may potentially be incorrect.

(PICTURE NOT MINE)

“DAMN IT YOU MUTT GIVE IT BACK!” Running down the hallway, Soap shouted.

Price raised his brow as he glanced around the corner. He then saw a dog, and not just any dog. It was your dog. Price chuckles before whistling, attracting the dog's attention.

“There’s a good pup, what’s all the fuss about MacTavish?”

Soap huffed pointing at the dog, “Fucker stole my book.”

“That so?”

“Captain you can clearly see it in its mouth.”

Price nodded, “This it has a name you know.”

Soap scoffed, “How the hell am I supposed to know which damn mutt this is?”

“You need to start showing your team mate some respect, after all this ol’ girl knows your name quite well lieutenant,” Squatting down to the dogs' level and giving them soft pats, Price advised. "You've had your fun, Ravage, but you have to return Soap's belongings; we don't want to have to tell your mother now do we?"

Ravage whines a bit then drops the book at Price's feet, Price brags the book and hands it back to Soap. "There ya go mate."

"Thanks boss-" After again shaking his head, Soap said, "You best pray none of your drool got on any of my pages lass." He says to Ravage. After leaving, Soap returns to his room, where he shuddered at the slobber on his fingertips and opens the book to examine the pages.

Thankfully, none of the pages were tampered with. His most recent drawing, which was of you, was on his most current page. It wasn't finished yet, and there were a few smudges, but they might be fixable. Huffing, Soap grabbed his pencil and sat back at his desk.

He started drawing again, this time spacing out, remembering all of your facial expressions and features, from the way you grinned at him and the others after a successful mission to when your dogs mastered a new trick.

When you were originally introduced to the team, you were a little out of it, and you didn't have your dogs then, so he initially thought it was strange that you had three dogs instead of one like most other soldiers. It took them three days to reach to base, and you were overjoyed.

You even went brazen with Ghost while you two were comparing dogs, showing off your them off.

Ravage was the youngest of the three, and she was the fastest and had the finest sniffer of the three. Laserbeak was the middle child, but not much older than Ravage. Laserbeak was the most daring of the three, and you took him on more missions because he could deal the most damage. Finally, Howlback, his personal favorite. Howlback was the oldest and most playful; he was perfect for overnight excursions since he could sleep all day and be awake all night. Because to this, he has saved Soap numerous times.

He wondered what you would have been like without them, if you were still in your bubble. When you were with your dogs, you smiled more; they never failed to make you happy. He had to admit that he occasionally envied them and questioned whether he could accomplish the same. It seemed as if they were also members because of the way you interacted with them, took care of them, and watched out for them.

He adored your smile the first time he saw it, the day you smiled like that at him. It was your finest self-portrait.

He hummed, putting up his book for a better look, it was beautiful, you were exquisite.

Soap strenched a little then decided to head to the mess hall and get something to eat. He walked out his door stopping dead in his tracks, there was Ravage.

Again.

"What do ya want now?" Soap asked raising his brow.

Ravage whined then laid down looking up at sound in doing so. Soap tilted his head in confusion, did she want to use the bathroom?

"What gotta take a shit?"

"Did you just ask Ravage if she had to take a shit?" Gaz said as he and Ghost rounded the corner. "I don't know what she wants," Soap remarked.

"She's probably asking for company," Gaz speculated.

"Why don't you take her?" Soap inquired.

"I would, but I can't get sent out on another mission," Gaz grinned.

Soap turned to face Ghost, who simply shrugged. "You'll be fine Johnny, suck it up."

"After all, dogs are a man's best friend," Gaz added as him and Ghose walked away.

"Okay, tell you what, I'm gonna grab something to eat and you can sit there and watch how does that sound eh?" Soap sighed, shaking his head.

Ravage barked, sat up, whirled around in a circle, and barked at him again. "What the fuck is it?" Soap quipped, crossing his arms.

Ravage charged forward and yanked the bottom of Soap's pants, causing Soap to yell as Ravage let go and raced away. Soap after her, and she ran directly into the Captain's office. Soap stormed in, huffing.

Ravage sat next to Price as he smoked his cigar, gently petting her head and complimenting her before turning to look at Soap. "What the hell, Captain?"

Price grinned, "I told her to get your daydreaming arse in here, now, your getting sent out to help Soundwave, something came up."

"Is she alright?"

"I don't know, Laswell can't reach her, she's gone dark from what I understand," Price added.

Soap nodded, "Ay, so what about the mutt?"

"She's going with you."

"The fuck..."

“Ravage is the best luck you’ll have at findin’ Soundwave. Take her and go. Understand.”

Soap nods, “Yes sir.”

. . .

“I don’t doubt your skills dog but I know that we both care about Y/N a lot, so let’s do this and find her,” Soap said as the came off the plane. Ravage barked butting her head against Soap’s leg.

(Ngl Idk if I'm gonna finish this and I don't wanna delete it)

[goldencorecrunches]

(More LanLan rural vet AU) -- It had been a great idea.

"Look at it this way, at least you'll know we've gotten most of them," Luo Qingyang, their tiny clinic's only full-time nurse, told him. She was visibly trying to keep a straight face. Song Lan glared at her. He couldn't reply with words, because his hands were full of squirming, six-week old puppies. Also his arms, and his shoulders, and from the German Shepherd tugging at his scrub pants, soon his lap as well. 

Song Lan had known, moving from the city to the rural countryside, that there would be some measure of culture shock. When one of the farmers had casually dropped that he didn't vaccinate his puppies, because there were, according to him, "Too many of 'em too fast to bother driving 'em out all that way, before you showed up," he had nearly broken his strict policy of sobriety during work hours.

"They're all going to die of distemper," he had told Wen Qing after the man had left, vaguely aware he was making his Strict Veterinarian Face (it was Lan Xichen who had given it a name, which made Song Lan warm all over, on top of the flush from anger) from the way his temples had started aching. "They're not even on heartworm medication. I'm surprised so many of them survive to get killed by the combine harvester." "Just 'combine,' you sound like you're city folk," Wen Qing had said, ignoring Song Lan's mouthed protestation that he was, which was why he was used to people who kept Lucky and Xiao mi's shots up to date. "Look, these people-- they don't have time, and they don't have money. They're going to focus on the livestock animals they need to keep themselves afloat. It's not cruelly meant. They're doing the best they can." "I know that," Song Lan said, somewhat abashed. He peeled his gloves into the bin by the sink and set about washing his hands as he thought. As always, he had to hunch over the sink, built for a much shorter DVM. Wen Qing's girlfriend had sent her some kind of fancy floral soap, and Wen Qing had delighted in placing it in both exam rooms and the surgery. It was a bit stronger to the nose that Song Lan would've preferred, but he wasn't going to argue with Wen Qing when it came to her girlfriend. The antiseptic covered it up, anyway. "What about a vaccination fair? Or just a day," he said when he had finished drying off. "We used to do them at my old clinic. Bring in your pets, get them up to date. Pass out flyers about common infections. Gets the kids involved, too." "Hm," Wen Qing had said. She'd begun gathering up the used sterile packaging and dumping it in the trash, neatly detouring the needles to the sharps container. "That's certainly an idea." She'd argued him down from all pets to just dogs, and had him separate out areas based on the weeks since puppy birth, to for the older dogs the year or the five-year mark. Song Lan had thought it overly complicated-- he could just ask the humans involved as they came up-- but had acquiesced so as not to cause trouble. He was still learning how to fit in, here. Country folk were a lot more standoffish than city folk, for all they were initially nicer. 

He was very glad now that he'd listened.

"You look busy," said a cheerful voice from behind him. Song Lan finished administering the Bordetella shot to the Border Collie mix Luo Qingyang was holding, giving the pup a scratch behind the ears and juggling the bag of chicken jerky underneath his armpit to keep the mutt-who-definitely-had-Bulldog-in-there-somewhere who was crawling across his shoulders from snatching an unearned reward. He turned, stumbling as the German Shepherd shoved her nose enthusiastically into his muddy shoe laces, and tried to keep his scowl affixed for Lan Xichen's teasing. It was a pointless endeavor; as soon as he caught sight of Lan Xichen's face, glowing in the midday heat, he could feel his mouth pulling up at the corner. He occupied himself boosting the puppy under his left arm higher, propping his waggling tail on his hipbone, to keep his own dopey smile to a minimum. "Shh," he told the puppy, when he yipped and started trying to eat Song Lan's scrubs. The puppy looked up, top canine caught in the loop the brand name tag had once hung from, before Song Lan had cut it off. He was not helping the dopiness meter. "Mister Lan!" Luo Qingyang said, handing the Collie mix back to a child with worried arms outstretched (the dog, unperturbed, began licking every freckle on the child's face). "I'm glad you were able to make it! You brought us-- oh, you didn't have to, put that down. Here, you take this one." She plucked the heavy, stainless-steel carafe from his hand and replaced it with a black-and-tan puppy she summoned from nowhere. Automatically Lan Xichen brought his other hand up to support the puppy's hind legs. The puppy sniffed the pens in the crisply ironed breast pocket and did not find them suitable. Song Lan realized he'd been staring and shuffled his furry passengers away from the jerky again.

"I didn't think to make it cold. It's a warm day, I hope it won't be too hot for you," Lan Xichen was saying, apologetic. The edge of the shadow from the extremely garishly striped outdoor tent Song Lan and Wen Ning had set up cut him right across his handsome face, one eye in the shade, the other squinting into the sunlight. As a teenager, Song Lan had had a movie poster where the actor was highlighted in similar fashion. He had hung the poster on the ceiling above his bed. This is not the time for this was becoming a common repetition in Song Lan's inner monologue when it came to Lan Xichen. "If it has caffeine in it, we'll love you whatever temperature it is," Luo Qingyang assured him, passing Lan Xichen another puppy; nearly identical to the first, but with one black ear instead of two. "This is his sister, they're getting their ten week vaccinations. A bit late, but don't tell their mother that. Do you know how to hold them?" "I'm not entirely useless," Lan Xichen said dryly. He smiled at Song Lan. Song Lan nearly tripped over the German Shepherd again. "Ten weeks, that's...Influenza, Bordetella, Lyme…." "DHAPP," Luo Qingyang confirmed, ponytail bouncing as she nodded. "I'm going over to help Wen Qing with the older dogs, you stay and hold puppies for Doctor Song, yeah?" She patted the male puppy on the head, blew a kiss to the female, and leapt over the barricade of folding chairs to rush to the other side of the tent. A queue was already forming there as Wen Qing argued with a woman in overalls, gesturing angrily. Luo Qingyang slid neatly between them and took the three-legged hound from the woman's arms the same way she had taken charge of Lan Xichen's tea carafe. "You've got a criminal," Lan Xichen said pleasantly, pointing with his chin. Song Lan blinked, and then mentally swore, kneeling so he could free one hand to extricate the Pitbull mix from the open ziplock seal on OL' GRANDAD'S AUTHENTIC CHICKIN STRIPS (Reduced Fat). He pressed the hinge of the puppy's jaw to tug the pilfered treat free, tapping his nose when he tried to whine sadly. Song Lan hadn't gotten his certification yesterday. "Can you hold them while I give the injections?" he asked, waiting for Lan Xichen's acquiescence before struggling to his feet again. Half-way up he felt a pull at his knee. He looked down and saw the German Shepherd, tired of being ignored, had a mouthful of his pants. "No," Song Lan signed; but the dog hadn't been trained in sign language, so she growled playfully up at him, ears pricked. Song Lan reached to do the same trick he'd done on the Pitbull mutt, but he'd not accounted that the other set-down dogs would be investigating the other side of his newly-sniffable legs. With a grassy skid, and a very undignified shout, Song Lan went down. The dirt seemed a lot more solid when he was testing it with his nose and chin. Three of the puppies leapt on his face and began a series of scientific experiments as to whether he was dead or just playing. One slobbery tongue went into his ear. "Are you all right?" Lan Xichen's voice was above him: Song Lan was never, ever going to live this down. He groaned and rolled onto his back, throwing an arm across his eyes and letting the puppies pounce on his hair and ankles. The German Shepherd, looking delighted with herself, sat her ass down on Song Lan's stomach and examined his face, tongue lolling. Despite himself, Song Lan smiled and reached up to rub at her belly. She flopped onto her side (oof) and threw her front paws up so he could gain better access. Her tail beat wildly at the ground beside Song Lan's leg.

"Just…dangle them over my chest," Song Lan signed up at Lan Xichen's looming figure. He was tall. Was this what he looked like to everyone else at the clinic? "I'll do them like this."

"Of course, Doctor Song," Lan Xichen said, carefully solemn.

They looked at each other.

The girl puppy swatted her brother in the nose. Immediately he started crying.

"Shall I get you a cup of tea too, then?" Lan Xichen asked, and Song Lan couldn't help it; he laughed out loud.

"I suppose 'buried in dogs' isn't a terrible way to go," he signed, as Lan Xichen, finally abandoning his masterful attempt, let his grin take over his face. It was blinding. "Yes, if you've got a funnel to pour it through?"

[huntertales]

Part Three: You Are What You Eat. (Dog Dean Afternoon S09E05)

Episode Summary: While investigating two bizarre murders, Y/N and the boys realize there is an eyewitness to both gruesome deaths–a German Shepard. Anxious to find out what monsters they are dealing with, the three look up a spell that can help communicate with the dog. When Dean decides to be the one to perform the spell, he quickly realizes it comes with side effects no one saw coming. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Warning: Mentions of blood. Word Count: 4,647.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

“So, what can you tell me about the man with the cowboy hat?” 

You had to be honest, at the beginning of this plan you were excited for the chance to go around each kennel so Dean could personally speak to the dogs and get a potential eyewitness of what happened the previous night. Your enthusiasm slowly trickled away when you realized how this was turning out to be a complete waste of time. All though you could only hear one side of the conversation, the homeless pups were turning out to be less helpful than the Colonel had been for you. You watched from the other side of the shelter as Dean questioned another dog that looked almost to be the exact same breed as the famous Lassie. However she wasn’t capable of much of anything due to her fleeting eyesight due to her old age. Dean listened anyway.

“Honestly, I couldn’t see much. Damn cataracts. And you know no one is going to pay for my surgery. Just another casualty of the system, I guess.” The dog followed up her story with a complaint about how her final days would be spent in a cage. Dean offered a sympathetic smile from the lonely end she was most likely going to face. Almost no one adopts older dogs. The man felt it was time to cut the conversation short when she tried to guilt him into taking her home. “I don’t belong here, you know. I’m Pedigreed.” 

“Well, I’m sure you’ll be out of here soon.” Dean tried to offer some hopeful words to the dog that better days were ahead for her. She shot him down when she told him her age of fourteen. In human years she was in her seventies. She didn’t have much time left on this Earth. He winced at the awkward situation he put himself in. “Good luck…ma’am.” 

Dean shut the cage and placed the latch back down so she couldn’t try and escape. As he passed by a labrador, he overheard the rough conditions they were living in. “One a day they clean these cages. Once a day!”

“A biscuit. Just one biscuit.” 

“I need a Raquel Welch poster and a rock hammer.” 

“I’m shaking the fence, boss. Still shaking the fence.” 

Dean wasn't sure what to expect when he took the spell that would make him be able to communicate with the Colonel. He didn't think it was going to lead him into being able to speak to every single animal that would end up in him getting mocked by a pigeon and hearing the complaints from the dogs living in the shelter. He let out a quiet sigh from how overwhelming it was to hear all their voices ringing in his head for different reasons that all varied out to the same reason. They wanted to get his attention for a chance at going home with him. You gave him a curious expression as he approached you and Sam after trying to speak to another dog.

“Any luck?” Sam asked his brother, hopeful for some kind of breakthrough. 

“Hardly.” Dean admitted. “And I’m not just getting any clues—just a bunch of complaints.” 

“Hey, pretty boy.” The older Winchester might have spoken too soon when he heard another voice pop up into his head, making him look over his shoulder to see who was speaking to him. A small yorkie jumped on his hind legs and leaned himself against the fence to try and get the hunter’s attention. “Over here.” 

“Yeah, sorry, pal.” Dean said, shrugging off the dog for whatever excuse he was about to try and throw his way to get him over there and chat his ear off. The man thought he already knew what was going to happen if he wasted more time on yet another dog. “I’m done for the day.” 

“But I saw everything!” The dog shouted, saying exactly what the hunter wanted to hear. It was enough for Dean to make his way over the kennel. You and Sam followed behind, figuring this was the lead all of you had been looking for. “And I’ll tell you, but…it’ll cost you.” 

“What? Are you kidding me? I’m being extorted by a dog.” The older Winchester scoffed at the sudden shift of the conversation. No one else had given him much help. This was the only major lead you had going for you. Dean rolled his eyes and unwillingly gave in to listening to whatever the dog might try and bribe out of him. “Well, what do you want, huh? What? Beggin’ Strips? Snausages?”

“Bitch, please. If I’m gonna rat someone out, it’s got to be worth my while. I want…a belly rub.” The dog gave his final demands to make him speak. Dean once again rolled his eyes at the presumption that it was going to be him who was going to be forced to do the deed. However the yorkie wouldn’t let just anyone come near him.  “Not you, sweetie. The short one.” 

“The...Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” Dean grumbled underneath his breath when he turned his direction to the short person he was talking about. You were standing next to him, wondering what was making him grow annoyed now. “He wants a belly rub. From you.” Dean informed you of the pooch’s request. You felt your lips stretch into a happy smile. As if this hunt couldn’t get any better.  “Get to it. You’re like some kind of dog whisperer.” 

You pushed up the latch to the cage and opened up the metal door to greet the yorkie with a big smile at how happy he was from the way his tail was wagging. “Hi there, cutie. You wanna belly rub, huh? Come here.”

The dog wanted his end of the bargain before giving any sort of information about that night to Dean. You started off enjoying giving the pooch what he wanted. He was cradled in your arms like a baby as you scratched his stomach like he requested. His tongue poked out from the side of his mouth as he panted in enjoyment from the rare affection he was being given after spending most hours locked in the small confidments. The human side of Dean was growing annoyed at how much this mutt was trying to milk this bribe for his own benefit. And the canine side of him was growing territorial at how much you were giving someone else affection. 

“Ohh, a cowboy hat, leather pants.” The dog managed to give a basic description of the man of what he was wearing on the night of the murder, occasionally breaking his concentration from the bellyrub long enough to do so. “The dude's a total closet case.”

“Okay, what else can you tell me about the guy other than his outfit?” Dean pressed for more, knowing that it was useless to the three of you. 

“What does he want with the cats?” Dean asked. 

“Ooh, attagirl, yes.” The dog was once again delayed on responding to the question, too caught up in the euphoric feeling. “Hell if I know. But he took all of them, except for the one he ate.”

“Ew.” Dean mumbled to himself from the twist he wasn’t expecting to come from the story. You momentarily stopped scratching the dog to hear what made the man reaction that way. It was for a reason you never would have guessed "Apparently, our guy has a sweet tooth for kitty cats."

You felt your lips stretching into a childlike smile from the information, feeling the need to crack a joke. “So you’re saying he likes to eat p—”

"Keep scratching." Dean told you, cutting you off from making a distasteful joke.

"Oh. Oh, and the sack had something written on it." The yorkie added, giving some information that might help make it easier to track down the man. 

"Okay, what did it say?" Dean asked. The dog decided at that moment to go silent. He went limp in your arms as he let out a yawn, acting as if it was Dean who was wasting his time. "Hey, come on. We had a deal."

“Well, you tell that to your friend.” The dog said  “She’s the one who stopped rubbing.” 

You rolled your eyes when Dean tossed you a look to keep going with the deal he made with the dog. You could only do this for so long before you complained of a hand cramp. Not to mention he was starting to make your arm grow numb for holding him in the same position for a long period of time. Dean didn’t seem to care for your complaints. 

“He’s not talking.” The older Winchester said. 

“I’m sorry, do you want to do it?” You asked him, nodding your head to the needy dog. 

“You’re the one who volunteered.” Dean reminded you. “Very happily.”

You let out a quiet sigh and continued on with your end of the deal. The dog’s tongue poked out of his mouth in happiness.“Attagirl. It said ‘Avant-Garde Cuisine.’” He continued on. “Lucky for you, I read French.”

“That's a café on Main Street.” The Colonel said, jumping into the conversation to lend a helping paw. “No dogs allowed.”

“Well, no wonder he smelled like hamburgers and dish soap.” Dean mumbled, seeming to be still talking amongst the dogs. You raised your brow slightly, wondering if he found a possible lead afterall. “We got to go downtown. Apparently our guy works at a restaurant.”

Dean nodded his head to put the yorkie back into his cage after getting the information you needed from him. “No, no, wait, wait, wait. Sure you don't want to adopt me?”

“No, thanks.” The older man shot down the offer with a smile. “We'll pass.”

You bent down to grab the Colonel’s lesh with your good hand as you tried to stop the cramping in the other. While the little yorkie was a pain, you had to admit it was sort of fun spending some time with the pooch. Even if he was a pain. 

“It’s kind of sad, don’t you think?” You wondered out loud, looking around at the kennels filled with dogs you would have loved to adopt. Sadly not all of them might get a chance. “All these poor things might never get a proper home. I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life in a cage.”

Dean found himself reflecting on what you said for a moment. He didn’t like dogs. Hell, he wasn’t the one for pets. But being able to hear their thoughts and struggles they faced, spending some time walking in their point of view, gave him a better perspective. Every creature, human or animal, deserved a loving home. He felt his lips stretch into a smile from what he was about to do. He knew it would make you happy. Maybe this spell wasn’t such a curse after all. 

You and Sam were left baffled at what the man was doing when he went to every kennel and opened up the cage doors to let the dogs free. A scurry of four legged animals went running past you and straight out the door. You might not have been able to hear the excitement of their freedom, but you could tell from how they raced out of here. Dean was pleased with himself at the little act of kindness. 

“I didn't peg you for a softy.” The Colonel said. 

Dean merely shrugged his shoulders as his response for the German Shepherd. There were a lot of things that were out of character for him today. He spent his entire life saving humans. It felt like a good change of pace to lend a helping hand to man's best friend for a change. 

+ + +

It wasn't too hard for you and the boys to track down the restaurant of the crazy lunatic who murdered two people and catnapped all of the shelter's felines for reasons you still weren't sure of. Sam was the one who picked the lock of the back door and headed inside first, you and Dean following after. You wondered the reason why the place was closed when you were still in the early evening, it should have been booming with business. A closed sign wasn’t going to stop you and the boys from breaking into the place and taking a look around for yourself. It was going to be easier knowing there would be no lingering eyes to disrupt you. 

"I'm sorry. Who can afford to be closed on a Monday these days?" Dean wondered out loud.

“Homicidal maniac?” You guessed.

Sam brought your attention over to a door that was marked private. after passing a few unmarked ones. All of you stepped inside and began taking a look around through the scope of the small flashlight you pulled out. You noticed it must’ve been extra storage for the restaurant from the walk-in freezer you spotted across the room and shelves filled with different canned goods and spices and doubled as an office space for the staff. The younger Winchester approached a desk that was near the door and spotted a framed photograph of a man that was dressed in a chef's uniform with a cowboy hat as an accessory. He smiled for the camera while sharpening a knife. It was oddy suspicious at first glance, but it didn't exactly scream psycho killer to you. 

"Check this out." Sam said. He pulled your attention away from exploring more of the room and to the picture he found. You furrowed your brow slightly at the potential suspect you might have. "Chef Leo. Think he's our guy?"

Dean shrugged at the coincidence, "It's Okie town. Lots of dudes wear cowboy hats." 

Sam decided to stick around the desk when he pulled up a chair and began rifling through some papers and drawers to see if he might be able to find anything suspicious about this Chef Leo. Dean continued on walking through the place as you stuck around to help Sam to cut down the process faster. You flipped through a folder full of important documents for the restaurant that ended up being meaningless to you and dropped them back down where you found them. You pulled out one of the drawers out of curiosity and stumbled upon a little pharmacy Chef Leo had kept for himself.

“Whoa.” You mumbled to yourself. You counted at least eight prescription bottles in the drawer that were all for him. You bent down slightly to get a better look at the drugs to see what he was taking. "Oxycodone, tramadol, methadone. Jeez. Guess he likes to cook perfectly numb.” 

"Help us." 

"Please, mister."

Dean found himself stopping in his tracks when he heard the sound of high-pitched voices coming out of nowhere. He looked around to see where they might have come from, but the only people around were still you and Sam, who were busy looking deeper into Chef Leo's desk. He kept on trying to find the source of the voices when they talked to him again, trying to get him to find them. 

“Did you hear that?” Dean asked, curious if he was the only one. You glanced up and gave the man a confused look as to what he was talking about. You shook your head before continuing on your search. “Sounded like little kids.” 

"Help!" The voice called out again, close enough for Dean to stop again and point his flashlight at a table that was holding something that was hidden behind an apron. "If you don't free us, the chef will eat us." 

“She’s not lying.”

“We’re in a cage!”

Dean managed to find the source of the distressed voices when he pulled off the apron and saw a small cage big enough to be holding a few mice that were unhappily crawling around in their mental confidements. He bent down slightly so he was at somewhat eye level with the rodents so he could speak to them properly. "Eat you?"

One of the rats told him to look in the refrigerator behind him to discover what else the chef was hiding. He did as he was told, making Dean stumble upon several tupperware containers stacked on top of one another with labels of unusual ingredients he had a feeling weren't on the menu. You wandered over in curiosity to discover what Dean had found while Sam found something suspicious on his own. You glanced inside the see through door to see the chef was stocked on animal organs of all kinds. 

"'Owl brains.' 'Cheetah liver.' 'Grizzly heart.'" Dean listed off just a few of the strange organs that made you grimace as the possible reason why the chef needed these ingredients. And how he managed to acquire such an array of organs for such a diverse palate. 

"Ah, a spell book." Sam said. He figured out what kind of book he had been reading through, and why the chef has so many organs on hand. "Shamanism." 

"What's a chef doing dabbling with witchcraft?" You asked.

"It says here whatever animal organ you ingest with the right mix of hoo doo and spices, you temporarily gain the power of that animal." Sam read off some information from the book to help explain what was going on here. Your nose wrinkled slightly as you looked back over at the fridge. The thought of ingesting any of those organs made you feel slightly queasy. "So, okay, if you're munching on owl brains..."

“Your head spins around like ‘The Exorcist’?” Dean wondered, deciding to take a wild guess.

"Close. Bolsters your IQ.” Sam said. He turned his attention back over to the book and began to read through the effects of the organs you and his brother discovered. “Okay, eat a cheetah liver for speed, bear heart for strength.”

"Okay, so if he's chowing down on this stuff—” 

"Then it would make sense why he constricted the taxidermist and clawed the guy at the shelter." Sam said, finishing his brother's thought. 

"Well, no offense," Dean turned his gaze back over to the cage with the mice. They were bottom of the food chain compared to the other animals Chef Leo had on stock. "But why would he want to eat you guys?"

"Uh, we have collapsible spines." The rodent said. 

"Look at this." Sam said. He found several index cards with what appeared to be some kind of recipe with the organs the chef harvested. You grabbed a few from the pile to flip through them yourself. "'Lion liver plus eagle heart.' 'Rattlesnake fangs plus anaconda bladder.' 'Baboon brains plus black widow abdomen.' He's mixing ingredients." 

“What the hell for?” 

Dean’s question went unanswered when the focus in the room went straight for the closed door after hearing what sounded to be metal crashing to the ground. You tossed the cards back to the desk as Sam turned off the small lamp. The rodents were spooked as well from the noise as they began to argue amongst each other. 

“Shoo! Quiet!”

"Don't shush me! You be quiet!" 

"I am quiet. Now." 

You and the boys headed for the door with your guns dawn, unsure of who might be out there. It might have been the chef back for a snack. You followed behind as Dean opened up the door and swiftly stepped outside to the hall, taking a quick glance around before you and his brother joined him. There was no one around the hall you came down, but there were echoes coming from the kitchen. All of you slowly headed there, expecting the man you heard so much about. Instead Dean found himself lowering his gun and hiding it quickly as he could when he spotted an unfamiliar face at work. It took no time at all for the chef to look up from what he was doing and to the three strangers disrupting him.

"Who the hell are you?" The man asked in a slightly frustrated tone of voice. He turned around and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting impatiently for your answer.

"We're from the health department." Sam explained to him, tucking his gun into the waistband of his jeans. "Stopped by for an inspection." 

"I wasn't aware we had one scheduled." He said. 

"Yeah, no, you wouldn't be. That's the point." Dean replied, continuing off with the lie his brother made up on the spot. "Besides, I thought you were closed." 

"We are. Chef's having a private dinner." The man explained to all of you. One of the waiters working tonight pushed open the swinging doors to the dining area and walked in, only to stumble upon the confusing sight that was unraveling. "In fact, he'll be here any minute," 

"Oh. Well, then. In that case, the kitchen's shut down." You declared. The chef's expression dropped at hearing the news. Clearly he demanded answers as to the sudden dramatic information without a proper warning. "Because you're both in clear violation of penal code 8.14. And what's that? Mice. You people have mice. You call yourself fine dining. The only thing people here are getting served is mice droppings." 

"Out. Come on. Get out." Dean instructed the two men, waving for the swinging door the waiter came in from. All though they weren't exactly happy about the change in plans, there was little fuss. "Both of you. We'll let you know." 

You crossed your arms over your chest as you watched the two men inform the guest about the change in plans for the evening. While they didn’t appear to be pleased at the ruined evening, everyone scurried off the property in the matter of seconds. "All right." You directed your gaze back to the older Winchester when he devised a plan. "I'll take the front. You and Sam take the back." 

“Do we even know how to kill this guy?” You asked, wondering if you were going into this situation with the wrong weapon. You hoped this wasn't going to be like poking the bear with a stick and getting mauled to death like the other victims.

"Well, empty one of these in his head." Dean suggested, gesturing the gun he pulled back out after the staff left. "See what that does."

You let out a faint sigh as you watched Dean make his way to the front of the restaurant as Sam continued searching through the rest of the kitchen, leaving you alone. This wasn't the first time you were going up against someone with strange abilities and an unsure way of how to take them down. You found yourself turning back on your heels to the hallway you came from when the sound of metal clanking wandered through the air again. You positioned your gun in front of you as you quietly followed the noise from where it came from. 

You began making your way down the hallway again to see where the noise was coming from. All though you were cautious and on high alert, when you reached the end of the hallway, something still didn't sit right with you. You learned to trust your gut instinct when it kicked in. And right about now it was telling you something was wrong. You turned around to see that you weren't alone anymore. Chef Leo stood in front of you after appearing out of thin air. Whatever he had taken made him be able to blend into his surroundings and get the jump on you. You had no time to react at all from what he did to you next. 

You felt a sudden sharp pain like claws dig into your neck scratching the skin deep enough for you to realize that it wasn't a simple scratch. You pressed your hand to the side of your neck when you felt blood starting to pour out from the wound at a fast rate. The son of a bitch slashed your throat. You had little time to react before you bled to death on the floor. You tried to steady yourself as you made your way down the hall, keeping as much blood in your body as you could. Chef Leo watched on as you struggled to stop yourself from falling down, he found it all amusing in a twisted way. 

"Chameleons aren't all that bad.” He said, a hint of humor in his voice. “Kind of tastes like chicken." 

You struggled to get your feet moving again when you finally pushed yourself off the wall you had been leaning on. The logical part of your brain was yelling at you to get moving before it was too late. You already lost enough blood from just standing here trying to get your head on straight. There was no way you could scream for help, but you might be able to find Dean if you moved fast enough. You tried to get your vision from going blurry as you managed to take a few steps. With each passing second you felt your body starting to grow weaker as you struggled to breathe on your own. 

You dealt with severe blood loss before, you knew the way your body was reacting. You forced yourself to try and keep going, despite your breathing turning heavier and your sight growing weaker with your body. You felt yourself starting to lose consciousness as your fight was slowly dwindling to the end. Right as you were on the edge of death, someone pulled you back from taking the plunge. 

Ezekial, the angel who had been hiding himself quietly in your body over the past several weeks, needed you alive. He preferred to keep his meddling to a minimum. Most of the time he was lured out from hiding by Dean due to some situation he put himself in that needed his help. He felt you slowly choking on your own blood from the slashes you endured on your neck. A simple touch to the wound when he took control healed your wound in the matter of seconds before he vanished quickly as he came. You were left gasping for air, and finding it was easy to do so. 

You felt something sticky and warm covering the hand that was wrapped tightly around your neck. That was it. No excruciating pain. No gasping for breath. You felt...normal. You quickly felt around the skin for some kind of indication that the slashes on your throat were still there. But there was nothing. Your brows furrowed together in confusion as you turned around to face Chef Leo, who appeared to be perfectly normal. Not a drop of blood was on him. You were covered in your own blood. But not a single scratch was on your body. The man stared at you with bewilderment at what you did in front of him.

“How the hell did you do that?” He questioned you. 

“Do what?” You asked him, sounding confused as he was.

"Don't play coy with me." He snapped at you. "I want to know what you are."

"Buddy, I have no idea what the hell you're talking about." You shot back at him, trying to turn your anxiety into anger. Despite the fact that you were without a weapon, you knew you could defend yourself against him. But your mind was still stuck on the fact that you were miraculously healed after he clawed your throat. 

"Oh, screw the sharktopus."  Chef Leo muttered to himself. Your focus finally went back to the psychopath standing in front of you, and before you had a chance to get yourself out of the situation you landed yourself in, he was faster. All it took was a swift punch for you to fall to the ground unconscious. "You’re my main course."

[Next Part]

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[misadventures-phan-can]

Chapter 3 - Toothless

The long awaited and thrilling Chapter 3 is here!

Sorry it took a while...

As Tommy went about her day as described in the first chapter, other things were simultaneously underway across the city that would’ve very much pricked her intrigue. If she’d known, of course. As it stands, she did not, and instead had to deal with unpleasant customers and a teasing employer. We now return to our doggish Lieutenant at the start of his day, and the events that led him to Melder’s great capital.  

By Meldarian standards, it was the morning of a new Cycle when they reached Trader City. Cpt. Skewlls had explained that technically, this was not true. A Cycle was simply a means to divide time, he’d said as they leisurely flew through the planet’s atmosphere towards the capital; a means to divide a planetary day that lasted a Standard Galactic week and then some. When met with the surprised and, in some cases, horrified expressions of his crew the Dhuuma cackled, green eyes catching the light from the closest navigation console and shining like an animal’s. Yes, he’d continued, two-thirds of the week triplet suns shone something horrible down on the populace, and somewhere in the middle, it goes dark for roughly three Galactic days. Two extremes, with only some reprieve during the 12-some Galactic hours it took for the suns to set and rise once more. 

“You’re somewhat lucky, pup.” Sharp teeth glinted behind the Captain’s playful grin, making the short hairs of Lieutenant Famillion’s neck prick uncomfortably. He was never quite settled around the Captain, no matter how much he trusted and respected the man, especially when he bore that expression and used that tone. It usually meant he spoke of equivocations whilst holding some sort of cleaning tool behind his back, readying to spring chores upon his crew unexpectedly.

“What do you mean?" He asked, nervously eyeballing the closet, which held all of the maintenance equipment. Surely not, his Captain wouldn't be so cruel as to- "It means you have less time in the sun, no chance of becoming a hot dog.”

The Captain’s amused voice brought the Mimic’s attention back to him, but the Lieutenant didn't hold his gaze for very long. The rest of the crew’s giggles, most prominently Jaylin’s, died out steadily; Cpt. Skewlls’ wicked grin fading with them as they all turned back to their stations. The mood which they’d labored so hard to lift fell muted once more, just like all previous attempts. The shadowy Captain drifted over to his Lieutenant from the central station, silent like a ghostly mist creeping over the deck. Silent enough that Canis started when he felt a hand on his shoulder, head snapping around to see the Captain holding out a sponge and grinning a bit too toothily. The Lieutenant’s nose scrunched and his lip curled at the biting smell of vinegar-soap emanating from the sponge, and he looked up to meet Cpt. Skewlls gaze with wide eyes and furrowed brows. When his superior’s grin only widened with amusement, he understood- face falling into a grimace. 

“What, really? Now? I thought you were just joking!” 

“Of course not,” The Captain’s eyes glimmered a merry, mischievous green at Canis’ tone of sheer desperation. “Now, now, don’t worry. The rest of the Jester’s will be at it as well.” The others groaned, collectively slumping at their stations. Cpt. Skwells merely rolled his eyes. 

“Come on now. Chip-Chop.” He clapped. “We’ll be arriving shortly and I want this cabin shining so much that I can see my non-existent reflection in the breaker-boxes.” The Captain made sure to stand there and watch until they’d gotten up to gather supplies, then simply turned away and let them get on with their distraction. That’s what it was, and most realized it even as they happily settled down into the routine of cleaning. Joe stood at the closet and passed out the equipment- a broom to Ezio, a mop to Jaylin, and finally, the "dust-sticker stick" was handed to Canis- along with a bucket of vinegar-based product for the polishing sponge later. 

And clean they did, until the call to get back to their stations and initiate Ramp-Landing procedures came over the high speaker. Despite the distraction, the cabin remained muted. Canis went through the motions, calling out positions and checking conditions on the outside of the locomotive as if he were merely watching from afar as someone piloted his movements. He tried to satisfy his aching chest by recalling all the good times, all their accomplishments- and all the tough times that brought them ever-closer. It failed miserably and only made his heart hurt more, a bitter taste spoiling his tongue. The Lieutenant didn’t want to go, didn’t want to leave his ridiculous crew and his questionable-but-kind Captain. He knew the others wanted him to stay too, they kept glancing his way and he could tell exactly what they felt about this separation, even as they made their last descent. 

"So… I guess this is it.” Once the jostling of a smooth, ramp-assisted landing ceased, and the elegant Casino Royale was parked in her bay, the crew sat in telling silence. The Mimic looked quickly away from his station’s screens, away from the shifting hot-red world outside that made his eyes water, and let his gaze sweep through the cabin to meet the eyes of his four other crewmates. He cracked a small grin, hesitant, biting his lip before he spoke again. “After you lot buy me a drink of course."

"We'll send you off with a nice swig o’ milk." Cpt. Skewlls smirked after another moment, teeth glinting as sharp as his eyes as he spoke. “After all, wouldn’t want our doggy officer getting poisoned with his last drink with the Jesters.”

"Ahah! Milk is as bad as alcohol for dogs, because, dogs! Again! Unlike Mimics! Again! Are lactose intolerant!" Canis huffed in mock annoyance, cheekily tutting as if disappointed in the Captain’s refusal to remember. “I am a Mimic, therefore, bring on the booze bitches.” He spread his arms wide, daring the Captain with a sheepish grin. 

In the meantime, the crew had moved towards the door. Ezio stood in the corner, already anticipating the eminent jaunt into the infamous Trader City. He followed the conversation with slight bewilderment, eyebrows hiking ever further up as, finally, he looked to Jaylin, then to Joe for an explanation. The Tobitoan saw Canis' smug-looking face, wondering if all of these facts were meant to confuse, or were indeed legitimate. To the short Commander standing at his left, he leaned over and stage-whispered behind a raised hand, “Have we been… feeding our Mimic poison? Is synth-milk really that bad for him??”

"I don’t think he’d lie?" Jaylin didn’t know any more than he did and seemed to be just as confused, watching their Captain smirk and advance on Canis curiously.

"But… the whole… synth-milk in a saucer thing! The yogurt treats! Dogs are mammals, aren’t they?? Mammals drink milk. From their ma’s. Right?" 

The other Tobitoan Lieutenant looked back at his counterpart, who met his gaze and winked in a comically forced manner. Joe merely shrugged. “The Lieutenant is not a Dog.”

Canis, who was most definitely not of the class Mammalia, curled his lips into a grin that showed far too much tooth to be all that innocent. “See, now the whole crew thinks I’m a common mutt!” He nudged their Captain, now standing to his right, with an elbow. “Except Joe of course, because Joe is the best person here.” At this point, they had all migrated from their stations into the antechamber of the engine, waiting for one of the Sub-Lieutenants in the wagons to give the ‘O.K.’ to open the airlock. 

"I've been a bird owner my whole life, really, my family owned a Rockroc. I wouldn’t be able to tell you much." Jaylin provided with a shrug, sending an apologetic grin to a still-befuddled Ezio. 

"You don’t say?" Lieutenant-Commander Joe perked up. He’d always wondered about those birds, it had been rumored that only a handful had ever been tamed, most notably the one that’d made its perch upon the shoulder of that one infamous space pirate. Hemlock? Herlock? Something like that, concluded Joseph, who came from a small moon of an even smaller solar system, the news of which, before he’d joined the SDF, had consisted solely of the occasional old, drunk spacemen’s yarn. 

"Yes," the Cpt. Skewlls interrupted sharply, fingers snapping once to set the wandering thoughts of his crew back to the task at hand. Jaylin and Ezio straightened up so quickly from their semi-conspirative hunches that their spines cracked, and Joe, well. Joe, who’d been paying attention no matter how distant and birdish his thoughts became, only set his expression into something altogether sterner with barely a twitch of his lips. 

“Yes, the milk thing is true. Moving on now,” The Captain glared momentarily at the youngest Lieutenant, blaming him in full for this quick, albeit appreciated, digression. 

“We’re heading to the nearest pub, which I believe is the Dustdog, off-duty, and we’re getting drunk. The Sub-Lieutenants and the deckhands will join us once they finish up with things here at Royale. Catch is, we only have 3 hours or so to do it, so tab is on me.” Half the ranking officers present were near-vibrating in anticipation. Then the Captain’s tone dropped suddenly, dangerously- the antechamber became visibly darker, and green sparks- tricks of the light, they didn’t really exist, or did they?- danced in the corners of the mortal crew’s perception. “However, if one of you show any, and I mean any sign of inebriation whatsoever when we check in with HQ, you will regret it.” The oppressive darkness disappeared as abruptly as it had come, and the ‘fearless’ ones took a breath of relief. Cpt. Skewlls merely grinned something akin to a shark and clapped his hands in delight. “Perfect!” 

The call to unlock the bulkhead rung loud above their heads, timed near-perfection with the Captain, as most things were on the Casino Royale. 

“Okay humans- and Mimic- Let’s go hit the bar at a planetary hour that would shock most and completely offend others!”

~

"I'll just start off slow, I think,” hummed Canis, voice smooth and languid, almost whimsical. The Dustdog, despite the local hour, bustled with the sight, smell and energy of a couple of dozen patrons. Most either with keen business interests on the planet or simply waiting out a stop-over on their way somewhere else. Some species the young Lieutenant could recognize, while some were completely foreign and drew his gaze, eyes blown wide and sparkling with unguarded curiosity. Scents rushed to clog his nostrils, the air sweet with sweat and a pungent fruity aroma, toned with earthy malts and fermented brews. Something rancid and bitter seemed to be emanating from a couple pitchers on the bar counter, probably some sort of local drink. Lights flashed, music played a bit too loudly, the rhythm buzzing in his ears like the low, throaty yowl of a Hellcat back home. Swallowing a lump that had risen in his throat, the Mimic tore his attention away from the patrons and back to the Jesters, looking to them as they gathered around the doorway. Eventually they all stood in the entrance with matching, stupidly large grins spreading across both Jaylin and Ezio’s faces. Joe, calm as ever, scoped the bar out with a few sharp-eyed glances and then turned to his crewmates.

"Starting slow is good advice, I say we all follow it. ‘Ey Jay? Ezio?" He teasingly nudged the shorter Commander and earned a finger-flick for his troubles. It never hurt to urge the youth to be responsible, no matter how futile the effort. 

Ezio, with a hearty slap on the back which nearly knocked the Mimic lieutenant off-balance, dismissed the very notion with a careless wave of the hand. "And where's the fun in that? Use that nose of yours.” He spoke straight to Canis. “Drinks are on the captain. We either all get plastered or we all wallow in a pitcher of sadness- there’s none of this designated driver bullsh-” He cut himself off when he glanced Joe’s expression. “Look, ok, the Captain can’t even get drunk, there is no reason we can’t do this-”

"Oh, my Telyris- Is that peanut butter?" Canis distractedly interrupted Ezio’s fumbling, saving the Tobitoan from an early grave and earning his endless gratitude. Paying him no attention, Canis pardoned himself with a mumbled word and zeroed in on the scent of the delightful treat he hadn’t had since leaving the SDF’s HQ. However, he did not expect the form in which he found his favorite snack; as he not-so-subtly passed around the table where four small shots of creamy, golden liquor had been served, he slowly realized that they were the source of the peanut butter. Eventually one of the occupants of the table realized he was there, and half-drunkenly told him what they were drinking, among other things. The lieutenant, now flushed deep blue at the ears, scurried off to track down his crewmates and order the first round of what would be quite a few, not dissuaded from his goal despite the minor hiccup. 

He caught sight of the Captain first, sat at the counter sipping something strong and clear. The Dhuuma’s sharp gaze swept across the room, watching the patrons with the languid intrigue of a cat perched on a window sill, viewing that morning’s selection of finches at the birdfeeder. He met his lieutenant’s eyes, nodded, and promptly turned back to observing the bar-goers. 

Much to Jaylin’s frustration, as for the first time that night she had to admit defeat and put down her hand. The luxury cards had shown a glorious green and black, bearing not a scratch or fold. Until a few weeks ago she’d merely use the cheapest cards money could buy, however Cpt. Skwells had decided that his favorite and only card-playing crew-member could not use such a drab set. She was, in fact, the only one in the whole of the SDF who had not yet given up on the absurd notion of, one day, defeating the Demon King of Black Jack himself. Jaylin’s determination brought a faint smile upon the Captain’s face, and he put his drink down to reshuffle the cards for another game. They were going to be there for a while, and the scene brought up tender memories of the Lieutenant’s first couple of weeks on the force. He’d learned his lesson on his second night with the Jesters, and soundly beaten he’d never tried his luck at poker ever again. Ezio would try once in a blue moon or when he was too drunk to know any better, in both instances resulting in solid losses that the rest would tease the poor Tobitoan with for weeks thereafter.

Joe was the only one who ever came close to beating the Captain, though he rarely played- much to the later’s deep, continuous chagrin. 

Shaking off the creeping melancholy, the Mimic quickly searched for Joe and Ezio, knowing both would probably be together and saving a seat for him. Once he spotted them Canis quickly put in his order with the bartender, changing his mind from shots to an individual tumbler; seeing as everyone already seemed to have their drinks. That accomplished, he made his way over to the duo. 

Joe, and with him Ezio, had taken a quieter seat at the end of the booze-stained counter and altogether not too far from Jaylin and the Captain. Canis perched on the stool to Joe’s right, watching curiously as the bartender approached the small group. With a quick glance around, he realized both his companions had yet to order and a smirking grin pulled at his lips. 

“So Joe, wha’cha gonna get? Milk? Water?” The Mimic snickered, Ezio’s eyebrow curving up in what seemed like surprise. The Tobitoan seemed about to correct his younger colleague, but the bartender interrupted him, flatly asking for their order whilst simultaneously placing Canis’ drink on the sticky countertop in front of him. He took a sip of it, savoring the creamy, artificially flavored peanut-buttery delicacy as he watched and waited for Joe’s reply with mischievously twinkling eyes. 

“I would like an Argyenian Basilisk Spritz, please an’ thank ya’ ma’am.” Canis sputtered, half his drink spat back into the tumbler as he turned to stare at Joe in wide-eyed shock. “Wh-what??” Ezio snickered, in turn ordering himself a local Meldarian brandy he’d never heard of out of pure curiosity. The bartender left without sparing them a second look, and Canis was left reeling. 

"No! Seriously? Joe? What in Tyr’s nation-??”

Joe smirked, shrugging in a sort of smug nonchalance that had the Mimic even more confused and looking to Ezio for answers. He merely laughed, shaking his head in amusement and eyes glowing warm with mirth.

“That’s right, we never brought you to a bar before- My man here, Joe-” He clapped his partner on the shoulder, grinning, “-can hold his liquor like no one’s business. He doesn’t look it cuz he gives everyone the impression of a man who dines with his grandma every Sunday.” Joe’s harrumph at that had Ezio backpedaling, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Look, not that that’s a bad thing Marge is the nicest woman I know-” the Tobitoan turned back to Canis, “point is, don’t judge a book by its cover eh? Joe may look like the goodiest two shoes you ever did meet but he did some crazy sh-”

“That’s enough o’ that there now,” Joe warned, but he had a look in his warm brown eyes that had Ezio rolling his eyes and sighing. “Fineee. One day Joe, one day…” Pondering over what that could mean with a bemused half-smile, Canis turned to check in on the other two just in time to catch them making their way over. In lieu of greeting, Captain Skwells jutted his chin at the tumbler in front of the lieutenant. “What do you got there Lieutenant Famillion?” The tips of Canis’ ears warmed, and he just knew they were flushed blue in embarrassment. 

“It’s a Reeses Meeses.” He muttered, much to everyone’s delight. They shared a laugh, Ezio cackling as he answered, “Peanut butter eh? That’s a start of a bad joke right there, ya know. Dog goes to a bar, followed by a cat and a Dhumma-” he jutted a thumb at the Captain mischievously, “Dog orders peanut butter, cat gets milk and the Dhumma orders a can of gasoline-” 

Canis interrupted him before the Captain could, blowing the dark-haired Tobitoan a raspberry. “I’m not a dog! Again! Can’t relate.”

“You’re canine-like, and you have this weird fixation on peanut butter- that’s enough for me.”

A firm cough disrupted the argument before it could start in earnest, the Lieutenant biting his tongue to hold back his rebuke and glaring at Ezio’s smug grin before all attention was directed to the Captain. Simultaneously, the bartender arrived with Joe and Ezio’s drinks, darting away just as quick to serve a group of rowdy patrons who had just come in. 

The corners of Cpt. Skwells’ eyes crinkled as a pleased grin spread across his face, and with an approving nod at the new refreshments took up his own glass and held it in front of him. The rest of the seated crew took the cue and grabbed their own, waiting anxiously for whatever their beloved Captain was about to say. 

“Well, while I would have liked to be able to get properly plastered with you all- not that these words will ever be repeated, mind you, in a professional setting-” he met each of their eyes carefully, and as that bright, swirling green gaze passed over him, the young Lieutenant felt the small hairs at the back of his neck prick up warily, on instinct.. “-It is to my great displeasure that I am forced to announce this round- our first- must also be our last. We do not have as much time as initially thought, so let this speech be brief.” The Captain’s attention turned solely to the Mimic, grin shortening into his everyday smirk. “It was a pleasure to work with you, Ltn. Canis  Lycaon Latran Lupis Famillion. You worked hard and played hard, fit right in with this band o’ misfits. Your first few years were hilarious, best entertainment I’ve had since Joe and Ezio began to crush on each other.” 

Both parties sputtered, but the dhuuma’s teasing grin was enough for them to keep their complaints unspoken. The Captain continued without acknowledging them, his expression schooling into something more solemn, smirk tightening into something more mature. Canis’ back straightened, and he stood taller. He was now being addressed by The Captain. Not Cpt. Skwells, not even Ethan- but one of the most respected and infamous captains of the SDF. 

“You are, and forever will be, a valued member of Jester Platoon. Call on us and we will be there, I will be there. You will always have a place with us, Lieutenant.” 

The young mimic’s eyes stung, but he could not discern whether it was due to the pungent odors in the air or the assurances given to him by his Captain. He did not want to know which it was, either. He only managed a nod back, unable to speak. 

From the sidelines, there came a snort and suddenly Jaylin barreled her way forward to fasten herself around the Lieutenant. 

“Group Hug!” She proclaimed, quickly being followed by all the crew with the exception of the Captain. They remained like that a moment, Canis holding on to his friends, cheeks mysteriously wet as the others pulled away to reclaim their glasses. Cpt. Skwells waited for them to be ready before lifting his own tumbler with a sharp grin. “To Lieutenant Canis! May we many more successful missions together, and may he finally find his beloved peanut butter!”

~

Somehow, one round turned into three before the Captain, the only one still and forever sober, wrangled his crew towards the docks. Canis had followed them, the good-byes had been long and tearful until finally, all that was left for him to wave at was the dark-red smudge of the Casino Royal ascending through the atmosphere. 

Not that he would remember much, as he stumbled off to find shade during the hottest time of the Meldarian day. As it was, Canis found an alley to crash in and nap- mind fuzzy and body heavy from alcohol, until his thoughts were clear enough to explore and find his bearings. Propped against some building’s wall, the mimic felt his eyelids droop, his last wistful thoughts wondering about the crew that he had just left behind...

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3 (You are here)

Chapter 4 (Coming)

[hardyimagines]

Part 6 — The Baker

Part 1   Part 2  Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 7   Part 8     Part 9

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Could I request an Alfie Solomons x reader where she has no idea who he is and thinks he’s just a baker so he bakes things for her and is sweet but he keeps trying to hide his identity bc he really likes her and eventually she finds out who he is? You decide whether you want the ending to be angst or fluff! And please make this one a bit lengthy :) thanks love 💗 Requested by: @centerhabit​

Warnings: Swearing, Nightmares, Sexual Harassment ( I don’t want to upset anyone, it’s not graphic, but I just want to forewarn you! )

Word count: 9.1k

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“Cyril.” You whispered softly in annoyance, hand pressed gently into the pup’s face as he licked your cheek excitedly, attempting to wake you. “No..” You whined under your breath as sleep quickly slipped away from your grasp, do to the dog disrupting your dreams. The large animal lifted his paws on to the edge of the grey duvet before hoisting himself up and on to the oversized mattress. Cyril weighed more than you did which was quite shocking, so when the mastiff lowered himself down on top of your chest, you groaned out even louder. The room was hot, sticky hair sweeping over your pale skin as you squirmed beneath the dog to try and free yourself. His heavy paws pressed against your arms and you found yourself to be much weaker than usual. There was a dull throbbing in your temple that seemed to suffocate the entirety of your head and as you went to shout for Alfie, you found an incredible soreness in your throat. You crinkled your nose at the uncomfortable feelings before weakly patting Cyril. “Go get Alfie.” You whispered before snapping your fingers and pointing to the door. You didn’t think the dog could’ve moved faster. Cyril leapt off the bed, loud paws scratching the slippery floor before he ran, as best as he could, down the stairs and to his father who was hunched over his desk in the living room. You could hear the dog’s loud bark fill the entirety of Alfie’s home— well your home as well now. Smiling sleepily into the pillow, despite the sickness that you felt, your eyes slid shut and you let out a tired moan as you tried to get comfy. Cyril barked again and you could hear Alfie shushing the animal. “Do you want your mother to wake up?” The man growled softly, but you could hear every word in the silent home. Your ears twitched as Alfie referred to you as the pup’s mother and you were overcome with a warmth of happiness. Moving for the third time on to your back, you tried that position again, but sleep didn’t come. Another growl from Alfie did though.

Cyril was biting the end of the man’s slacks, snarling as he tried to get Alfie to follow him. “Bloody dog, what the hell is wrong with you? I’m trying to work, yeah, go lay down with your mum. Right, go.” He pointed to the stairs, expecting the dog to rush off in your direction, but Cyril merely continued to rest on the floor with his chin on Alfie’s foot, tugging lightly again at the man’s trousers. “You’ve had your breakfast, yeah, and you’ve been outside, right, what else could you fucking want?” The man, desperate to finish the work on the desk so he could climb into bed with you, stood from the creaky chair. Alfie looked to the clock in the corner, squinting. The hour hand pointed to six and he had realized he’d stayed up all night again. The sunlight was streaming in from the window in the corner of the room, but Alfie had been so caught up in paperwork, he didn’t even realize how early it actually was. His boots thudded loudly beneath him, ringed fingers scraping the railing audibly as he climbed the stairs after the dog. “Where the hell are you taking me, Cyril?”

Last week, the dog had led Alfie in circles around the home, searching for his toy ball. Alfie thought the dog had known exactly where it was and just needed help getting it, but the mutt was actually trying to look for it and Alfie had been stupidly following the animal for an hour.

Cyril nudged the door open to the bedroom that you and Alfie shared. You were laying on your back, on top of the duvet because of how hot it was in the room. “Cyril.” Alfie hissed softly, not daring to move any further. “Come on, boy, she’s sleeping. We don’t want to wake her.” Alfie pressed his hand against the doorway and tore his eyes away from the dog who rejoined your side. Cyril laid his head on your belly and you, head rolled to face the wall, pretended to be asleep so you could see how Alfie would react. As presumed, the man took a small step forward, now daring to approach you since Cyril had and it didn’t seem to bother you at all. Your eyes were still extremely heavy, but you managed to stay conscious, very aware of the approaching man. Alfie studied your form, curiously allowing his eyes to roam over your small form. You had one hand fisted in the blanket, clutching the white fabric as you slumped on top of it. Your legs were pressed together, tucked into your tummy, directed toward the wall just like your face was. Alfie stepped over one of the unpacked boxes before settling himself down at your side. You bit back your smile when the man tripped lightly over your slippers, no doubt nearly losing his already horrible balance. “Fucking shoes.” He muttered, kicking the things beneath the bed.

You began to squirm, silently telling him that he was making entirely too much noise. The man was halfway on the bed, one knee pressed into the blanket at your side, one foot still on the ground. He was just now lowering himself down and on to the mattress when you rolled toward him. Alfie held his breath, afraid to wake and upset you, though he knew you wouldn’t be mad. Your dainty fingers outstretched blindly toward him and when they curled around his large arm, you gently tugged on him. “Where’ve you been?” You whispered, keeping your eyes closed. He ran his tired eyes along your smooth face, no doubt recently washed with the apple scented soap he loved so much. The man dipped his head and pressed his lips against your cheek, allowing his dampened lips to rest against your skin for a few moments before he brushed his nose against your ear and inhaled deeply. “Downstairs. Working as usual, pet.” He explained before getting comfy at your side. When he began to draw back so he could lay flat on his back, your body was quick to follow, subconsciously following his so you could morph together. His body fit against your own like missing pieces to a puzzle.

Your starry eyes opened, so full of emotion it made him wonder how one tiny person could hold so much feeling for anybody else, but especially feelings for a man like himself. He gave you a slow smile, mesmerized by your beauty and all you’d done was wake up. “Where’s my good morning kiss?” Alfie hummed, waiting for you to give him one. “I’m not feeling so good, love.” You explained, burying your features into his clothed chest. The material he wore was soft, almost silky feeling, and it was very appealing against your face. “I like it so much better when you sleep with me instead of downstairs at your desk.” You told him quietly, receiving a hearty chuckle from him as you attempted to change the subject. Your head bounced lightly against his chest as he laughed, belly rising and falling in little dips. You lifted your head to eye the man with a scowl, curious to know what was so funny about what you’d said.

“You think I prefer to fucking sleep at that desk down there, pet? It’s fucking hard as a rock, innit, and you’re definitely not there to play with my fucking hair, right, so I’d have to agree, yeah, I prefer sleeping right fucking here with you too.” You moved your hand along his ribs and up to his neck. Playing lazily with the scruff of facial hair that coated his handsome face, you sighed breathily. “Well then I’m going to have to start luring you into bed with me since you lose track of time and don’t come at a reasonable hour.” You started to sit up, but he pulled you back down against him. “Did you say you were sick, pet?” He asked softly, piercing eyes gliding along your face. He could see you were flushed. Your eyes were sunken and as he brushed his thumb along your chin, he could feel the heat burn his finger. “My god, pet, you’re fucking burning up.” The man sat up with his brows pulled together in a deep frown. He rolled you gently to the side before sliding off of the creaky bed and moving out of the room. You gave him a look of confusion before looking to Cyril, who was snoring loudly.

Your voice was entirely too strained and hurt too much for you to call out for the man to see what he was doing. Luckily whatever it was, he did it fast. His boots hit the wooden stairs loudly as he made his way back up and down the corridor to the bedroom. He held a bottle of orange medicine in one hand and a spoon in the other, wiggling the contents. “This’ll make you feel better.” He told you softly before approaching again. You backed up on the bed with a little frown. “Oh, Alfie.. I. I suddenly feel a lot better.” You stood up on the bed, biting on your lip. “I don’t need any medicine.” You jumped off the bed and your entire head felt as if it might disconnect from your neck and roll right to the floor. Clutching your heavy skull, you winced, lowering yourself down to the floor in a heap. Alfie set the medicine down to instantly tend to you. His stomach was twisted with worry as he hunched over your little body. “Come here, right, I’ll take care of you, pet.” You let out a breathy moan, fingers moving to your throat as your nose began to sting. The fiery pain went down the back of your throat and into your right nostril. “I hate being sick.” You whispered, still wrapped in a little ball on the floor. “You shouldn’t be near me, Alfie, you’re gonna get sick too.” The man huffed stubbornly. His strong hands wrapped around your body, gripping you beneath your thigh as he hooked his other arm around your middle and hoisted you up.

Alfie lifted you as if you were a mere doll. You were off the floor in seconds and instead nestled into his embrace. “If you don’t take the medicine, pet, you won’t fucking get better, right, then I will get sick, yeah, but if you take it— the sooner you’re better, the sooner I can kiss you, innit?” Your lower lip trembled, but you nodded softly. “Right, then.” The man sat down on the edge of the bed, cradling you on his lap. He leaned over to retrieve the medicine, smoothly twisting the cap off of the top before pouring some into the spoon. “Two spoonfuls, right, and after that, you’ll be feeling so much fucking better.” You inhaled deeply, eyes clouded over with fear. You hated taking medicine. The man lifted the first spoonful to your tightly closed lips, urging you softly to open your mouth. “Come on, pet.” You could feel his fingers as they massaged your lower back, rubbing the tension away. “I’ll kiss you afterward?” He offered. You, unable to pass up on that proposal slowly parted your lips. The metal spoon entered your mouth and suddenly you couldn’t close it. Alfie was stuck, hovering the utensil above your tongue with no other choice but to dump it out and force you to take it. He wouldn’t though. “Pet, you’ve got to close your fucking mouth, yeah, I can’t keep my arm like this all day.” You shut your eyes tightly and he swore he saw little tears filling the corner of your eyes. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against your ear, whispering sweet little nothings against your skin. It worked. Your mouth closed obediently around the spoon and with a shiver at the horrid taste, you swallowed it down. Alfie kept his word and gave you a soft kiss to your sticky lips. He could taste the medicine too and didn’t blame you for giving him a hard time.

“It’s not meant to fucking taste good, pet, right, it’s just meant to help you and it will within no time.” He filled the spoon up again and you gave an audible groan. “I don’t wanna take anymore.” You stood from his lap, but he smoothly pulled you back down. “Ah, ah, ah, you’ve already taken one, it won’t hurt to take one more.” Your jaw clenched knowingly, staring at the man. “I can’t, Alfie. I really can’t—“ The spoon and medicine were set down for a moment so he could wrap his arms around you and discuss a new proposal. “I’ll give you a bath if you take one more mouthful?” That caught your attention. Your fingers lazily pinched the front of his shirt, tracing the buttons and loose strings that had managed to come off of the material. “Will you JOIN me in the bath?” You asked, wanting to clarify what exactly his offer was. The man cracked a slow smile before nodding his head. Giving you a rewarding kiss on your chin, he lifted the spoon and filled it with the nasty, but necessary liquid. “But— only if you take this the second it’s in your mouth, okay?” You nodded your head lightly, placing your small hands on his shoulders. He gave you the medicine again and the second you swallowed, you nearly threw up. “That’s my girl.” He pat your back, ensuring you were okay. Rising, the man left the spoon and medicine on the bedside table. Did you have to take more later?

The skin of his neck was hot as you pushed your face against it, cuddling him tightly as he walked down the hall and toward the bathroom. His boot nudged the door open and you instantly felt better at the thought of the hot water sloshing across your slightly sweaty skin. Lowering your legs to the floor, the cold tile kissed the bottoms of your feet. “Right, undress pet, do you want any bubbles or anything?” You shook your head softly, moving over to the cabinet. “I’m alright, Alfie, really.” He could tell that you weren’t. Your legs shook, struggling to hold up your body. He ushered for you to sit down on the toilet with a grunt before he left the room to get hot water to fill the tub with. You stared down at your feet, toes wiggling slightly as you thought about Alfie. He was entirely too good to you. In all truth, you didn’t feel as if you deserved him. The man was always so eager to take care of you, ready to pamper you with love and affection. He was everything you’d need in life. You knew you were young, much younger than he was, but it didn’t bother you in the slightest. Despite the age difference, you two got on very very well. Yes, there were incredible differences, such as his temper, which was bound to be set off at any moment. You didn’t get angry easy. You got upset over silly things, but you didn’t reach the point to where you were absolutely fuming. Alfie did. He was as caring as you though, if not more. Everything he did was for you.

You were dragged out of your thoughts when he moved back into the room to dump the large bucket of scalding water into the basin. Rising from your position on the toilet lid, you peeled off your nightgown and instantly moved toward the tub. Alfie wasted no time before he was ogling you, bright eyes boring into your silky flesh. He swallowed quietly before averting his eyes to his own clothing. You lifted your leg over the side of the oversized tub and carefully lowered yourself down and into the hot water. “Oh.. god, that feels good.” The man cocked a brow at your words before lifting his hand to smooth down his facial hair. His stomach flipped eagerly, cheeks heating up. “Right, pet, I know you don’t feel good and all, but you’re fucking moaning, yeah, a lot, and it’s kind of workin me up, innit.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest and you turned your head to look at him. Grinning slowly, your eyes flickered to his slacks. “Best get those off then, otherwise you’re going to strangle him.” Alfie snorted at your words before peeling off his shirt. Leaning over to retrieve your dress, he placed them both in the basket in the corner before he began to remove his trousers. “Quit looking.” He barked quietly as he could feel your penetrative eyes stuck on his form as he undressed. “Are we shy, Mr. Solomons?” The sounds of his ring rubbing against the button on his trousers filled the room, your eyes dropped to his thighs as he pushed the slacks down his legs and placed them in the dirty clothes basket as well. You bit your lip. You weren’t sure if the medicine was making you feel better or the fact that Alfie was taking his clothes off was. You straightened in the tub, water loudly splashing against the edges of the basin. “Alfie, hurry.” You whimpered quietly. “I’m cold.” The man cocked a brow, turning his attention toward you. His eyes flickered to your body, eyeing the way that the soapy water rose to your collarbones. You were definitely lying about being cold, but he was going to take advantage anyway and warm you up. Pinching the waistband of his boxers, he pushed them to the floor before rushing over to the bath. You, unable to keep your eyes way from the space between his thighs, flushed a bright shade of red. This didn’t go by unnoticed. As Alfie stepped into the tub and lowered himself down, he smirked at you. “Why’re you fucking looking at him like you don’t know who he is?” The man slumped against the side of the tub and your face darkened further. “You don’t really.. ever have him out unless it’s for sex.” Crawling toward the man, you easily slid on to his lap, curling up against his already damp chest. Cupping some of the water in your palm, you dropped it on his shoulders, watching the water droplets race along his skin.

Alfie moved his hand to your hip, guiding you closer to his body as he chuckled lazily in amusement. The tub was more than big enough for the pair of you which only amused him further. Of all the places to sit, you chose his lap. Your knees were either side of Alfie’s hips, wet hands lifting to cup his cheeks as you watched his features relax. “You know, Mr. Solomons, its good to sleep.” You whispered quietly, finger gliding along his beard. The man humphed quietly before inhaling deeply. “I lost track of time, pet.” You nodded lightly, leaning in to kiss him gently, being careful not to linger for too long. Maybe if you kept the kisses to a minimum, merely pecking him, then he couldn’t get sick. The logic was silly, but Alfie didn’t seem to mind at all. He kept trying to kiss you longer, deeper, but you would shake your head and simply pry him back. “Well, don’t lose track of time tonight. I like being held while I sleep.” You laid your head on his shoulder as if you were going to sleep right now and Alfie laid his hand securely on the back of your neck, holding you in place. The water wasn’t as scorching hot as it was when you had stepped in, but it still held a pleasant warmth. You fell silent and Alfie did the same. He lifted the bar of soap, running the white bar along your back and up to your shoulders. The man brushed your lengthy tresses away from your shoulder blades, watching your loosely curled strands fall from your warm back. You focused intently on the feel of his palms as they worked their way up and down, cleansing you to the best of his ability.

You sat up after a few moments so he could wash the front of your body and you couldn’t help but smile when the man hardly touched your breasts. “Alfie, they need cleaning to. You know you can touch me without it leading to sex, right?” Your nails roamed his shoulders, soothing the expression on his face. He looked offended in a way by your words. “I know that.” He muttered. “That’s my issue. I’m always ready for sex.” He muttered, head tilting back with a loud sigh. Your shaped brows pulled together in light confusion. You hadn’t thought about if he had been with anybody before you or how long ago those relationships had been. Shifting on his lap, you brought his soapy hands up to your chest, staring at him intently. “Well you held on for a while before me, didn’t you?” Your eyes shimmered with hope. It was odd, but you felt jealous to know that other women had been with your Alfie. The man straightened his head so he could see you better. “Yes, pet, I hadn’t had sex, right, in about a fucking year before you came along. A bit disappointing, really, innit?” Your slender arms curled around his neck, lips meeting his cheek. “No. I hadn’t even had sex before I met you, so I’m not the person to be judging.” The man inhaled deeply and you rose on his body with his intake of breath. “Right pet, but you’re a lot younger, yeah? So that’s a bit expected.” Alfie began to shift as the water grew cold and you stood helpfully as he moved to stand. The water droplets raced along your skin, down into the tub beneath you. “Hang on, Alfie.” You pressed your small hands to his taught stomach and stared up at him with the most sickeningly sweet expression he had ever seen.

“I’ll never understand,” His deep voice filled the bathroom. “how someone so fucking beautiful, yeah, and so fucking delicate, such as yourself, could love a fucking git like me.” You tutted beneath your breath, lifting yourself up and on to your tiptoes. The water moved around you as you leaned up, hands sliding back to their original position on his cheeks. You held them securely in your palms, thumbs tracing his facial hair. “Because, Alfie Solomons, you’re just as beautiful and just as delicate.” You whispered, eyes growing slightly droopy from how much love you felt for this human being. “You may be big and bad a lot of the time, but there’s a lot of good in you.” You kissed him softly. “I know that for a fact. I wouldn’t be with you if I didn’t think you were a good man.” You lowered yourself back down so you were stood flatly, but Alfie quickly hoisted you up and on to his hips. “You’re staying in my fucking arms all day.” Alfie stepped out of the tub and you couldn’t help but smile at his words. Would he stick by what he had just said? You weren’t sure, but you’d find out soon enough.

———————————————————

The air outside was skin-numbingly cold. It felt as if someone were wrapped around you, pricking you with a thousand tiny needles at once. You’d lost the feeling in your toes, but despite that, you still walked firmly alongside Alfie. Your fingers were as white as a ghost, completely pale as the pair of your were attacked by the strong gusts of ice cold wind. You let out a breathy whimper and Alfie instantly sensed your discomfort. The frigid temperatures never bothered the man. He was so use to being drowned in hot heat, he enjoyed the brief cold that embraced him. The giant at your side hooked his arm around your small shoulders and drew you into his big chest. He’d offered, insisted, on carrying you to the bakery, but you squirmed and pleaded for him to just let you walk because you knew his Sciatica would be bothering him later if he dared carry so much weight around. It wasn’t like you were heavy, but he shouldn’t be lifting something over twenty pounds for more than an hour altogether in one day, and here he was, trying to stick to his word and hold you every second he could. You pulled your rosy-colored face away from his chest and peered up at him. “My lips have gone numb, Mr. Solomons, I’m going to need a few kisses once we get to the bakery.”

You could feel his ribs tighten as his belly tensed with laughter. “Fuckin hell.” His loud chuckle was enough to warm the atmosphere. You felt hot all of a sudden as a blush crept up to spread along your already rosy, frozen cheeks. “Why does it amuse you when I try to be cute?” You whimpered once more, gasping softly as you hauled you in closer. “Because, pet, you are fucking cute, right, and it makes me happy by how much you love me, yeah, it does.” You soaked up the warmth that radiated off of him and when the bakery doors were within reach, you didn’t want to go inside. Would he still hold you this close once you were in his office and he had mountains of work to do? Alfie licked his lips. Setting his hand on your back, to urge you to part from him so he could open the door, the heavy wood groaned. He led you inside, fingers curled around your own. “Mornin’ lads, yes, Y/N’s here, it’s nothing new, right, so let’s keep fucking working, yeah?” Every man in the building lifted their eyes before instantly lowering them. Alfie’s coat practically floated along behind him as he moved toward his office. You were hot on his heels, eyes shimmering visibly as you climbed each step. Despite his sudden mood change and desire to be in his office, he hadn’t released your hand and he kept glancing back at you, ensuring you were right with him.

The door to his office closed softly behind the pair of you. Alfie pulled off his coat and hung it in the corner before outstretching his hand toward you, finger wiggling once. You pulled off your jacket and handed it over to the man so he could hang it. He pinched the chain of his spectacles and pulled the metal around his neck before setting the frame on the bridge of his nose. “Do you want to sit on the sofa, right,” He pointed to it. “Or do you want to sit with me?” The man peered at you over the rims of the lenses, before sidestepping his desk and lowering himself down and on to the chair. It didn’t take you long before you sat down on his thighs, settling down on his lap. “Will it be difficult for you to work with me sat here?” You asked him quietly, voice soft as you settled, back pressing firmly against his built chest. Alfie grunted quietly beneath his breath in response to your question. “No, pet, im good at multi-tasking, ain’t i?” You cocked a brow before turning your head to eye him over your shoulder. “I’m.. not too sure about that, Alfie. I think you get distracted rather easily.”

The man had his chin resting on your shoulder, staring down at the messy files on the desk before looking to you. “Right, I take it back, I’m fucking good at multitasking, yeah, if you’re not a part of that. Right, because you’re the biggest fucking distraction there is.” You couldn’t help but giggle at his words. “Alfie, how am I distracting when I’m just sitting here?” The man ushered to your lips. “You talk far too much, pet.” You didn’t take that as an insult. Alfie loved your voice and loved that you’d fill the silences with useless chatter. “Should I shut up then?” You whispered, biting your lip when he looked to you. “No.” He said simply, pressing a lazy kiss to your jaw. “Talk as much as you want, right, but I do gotta get this work done.” “After,“ You halted him. Dragging his face back toward yours, you smiled. “you warm up my lips.” Alfie obliged with no hesitation. Leaning in, his warm lips melted against your cold ones and he suddenly realized it was no fucking wonder you were sick. The cold was just as obsessed with you as he was. He kissed you until your lips were swollen, red, and hot before drawing back to catch his breath. “Mh?” You nodded. “Very good, thank you.” You settled down, lazily messing with one of his hands as he began to write with the other. The paper on the desk was stained with Alfie’s cursive. The black ink was smudged across the tan paper and the side of his hand was no doubt just as smeared. You kept quiet for the most part, doing your best not to interrupt him because, despite what he had said, you knew if he couldn’t focus then his work would pile up and he would spend every night, wide awake and then he’d be angry the next morning due to lack of sleep. The clock in the corner ticked by slowly which you were grateful for. There wasn’t much to do, no, but you were sat on Alfie’s lap, alone in his office, able to listen to his breathing and his soft grunts when he would work something out. You hoped this day never ended. It was the perfect opportunity to study him without him getting defensive from your staring.

The noisy door to Alfie’s office opened and Ollie made his presence known. “Tommy Shelby is here to see you.” Alfie’s eyes lifted. “Haven’t you ever heard of fucking knocking?” He growled softly, dark eyes falling back to the paper in front of him. “Tommy Shelby, mate, that bloke’s always fucking coming around here.” Leaning back in his seat, he ignored Ollie’s looks to you, perched on Alfie’s lap like a child sat on Santa. You gave Ollie a pointed look before laying your elbows on the desk. Alfie looked at the arch on your back as you hunched forward, studying you momentarily. “I don’t want to see Tommy, Alfie.” You moaned out, staring at the door as Ollie shut it, going to retrieve Mr. Shelby. “He carries himself too confidently.” You whispered, adjusting yourself on his lap before you stood. His hand shot out to grip your hip and you could feel his fingers flex lightly, tempted to yank you back down, but you assured the man that you weren’t going far. “I’m just going to look at your books, Alfie, okay?” The man gave you a cautious look before releasing you. His dark eyes moved to the door as it opened and in walked Thomas Shelby. He stood in the doorway for a moment, messing lazily with the chain that hung beside his hip. He had one hand tucked into the pocket of his navy colored trousers, eyes stuck on Alfie as if the man had taken a knife and jabbed it into Mr. Shelby’s back. You watched him warily from the mirror in the corner. The dirty glass absorbed the image of Thomas, so you had a perfectly good view of him, though your back was to him.

Your fingers traced the dust infested hard covers, studying them. Alfie liked to read? Or was this just decoration for his office. Smiling briefly to yourself, you nearly flinched when Alfie’s deep voice sliced through the silence in the room. Looking over your shoulder at the man you’d given your heart to, you watched as he leaned back in his seat, not bothering to hold back his true feelings when it came to the dark haired man in the door. Tommy’s blue eyes were ice cold and threatening. “You crossed me, Alfie.” He said simply, narrowing his eyes to challenge the bearded man at the desk. You arched a brow at that. When? As if Tommy had heard your silent question, he stepped further into the room, pink lips parting. “Sabini told me the truth about the races. Said you had something to do with the little mishap we experienced two days ago.” The chair groaned beneath Alfie’s weight. “And you’ll take that fucking Italian’s word over mine, right, mate, I don’t have time for this.” He ushered to the door. “Go on, fuck off.” Tommy didn’t move. “I need more of an explanation than that, Alfie.”

You turned around slowly, cradling a red hardcover book in your palms. “You either trust him or you don’t.” You spoke up softly, tone holding an air of nonchalance. Tommy’s eyes shot to you. “I’m not talking to you, am I, pet, go back to your reading, yeah? You’ve always got to give your input, Y/N, it’s not needed. It never will be. This is a meeting between myself and Alfie.” Your brows lifted, creases effectively forming on the pale skin of your forehead. Little curls, that couldn’t be tamed, framed the smooth skin of your face. Brushing them away, your curious eyes moved to your baker as he began to stand. “You won’t fucking speak to her like that, Tommy, or we will, right, we’ll have some real fucking problems.” Alfie hooked his fingers in the belt loops on his trousers and pulled them up before directing his finger at the man. “I didn’t fucking cross you, mate, you’re a bit fucking ignorant if you believe a fucking word that Darbi fucking Sabini has to say. It’s a lie, innit, and you, yeah, you took the time to come all the way here from fucking Birmingham to ask me if I fucking crossed you?” Your dark eyes slid along Alfie. He was hunched over his desk, eyes full of anger as he planted his hands down roughly on the surface. You knew majority of his frustration was because of how Tommy had spoken to you. Cradling the dirty book to your chest, you looked to the man as he directed those fiery eyes of his to your form. “Apologize to her, Tommy.” The black-haired Barbie doll let his eyes move to you. Both men ogled you. “It won’t happen again.” He said flatly. That was as good as you were going to get, you assumed. “No, Tommy, right, I said fucking say the words, ‘I’m Sorry’.” You weren’t sure why Alfie thought Tommy would listen, but as Alfie hunched over to retrieve his revolver, you gave him a look of bewilderment. “Alfie-“ stepping toward him with wide eyes, your small hand curled in the sleeve of his shirt. “Hey, it’s not that big of a deal.”

Thomas, completely aware of what the bearded man was leaning over to grab, remained absolutely calm, eyes rolling lightly. “I’m sorry.” He muttered. He came here to ensure that he and Alfie could remain on good terms, not to ruin what little trust was left between them. “Alright, Alfie? I’m sorry.” The man at your side loosened his grip around the handle of the gun before looking at you, then back to the Barbie in the doorway. “Right, then. I told you, mate, I didn’t fucking double cross you, yeah, so, if that’s all you’ve come here to fucking ask, you can be on your way.” The room was uncomfortably silent so you busied yourself with the chipped part of the desk in front of you. Picking at the wood, you scratched the surface until pieces of it were loose. Dusting them away and shyly on to the floor, you cleared your throat as Ollie poked his head in again. “Alfie, I need you!” There was no time for explanation. The tone in Ollie’s voice was urgent enough. “I’m a bit busy here, Ollie-“ The wide-eyed boy cut his boss off. “Yeah, but I need you, now, Alfie. It’ll only take a second!” He assured the man, eyes flickering to you and then Thomas and then back to Alfie.

The floorboards creaked beneath Alfie as he rushed across the room and brushed past Thomas. “What the fuck is it?” You jumped slightly at the loud boom of his voice. You could hear him descending the steps and when you could no longer hear him, in any sense, you realized you were alone with Thomas Shelby. The air in the room was as stiff as your body. You didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t speak, for fear that Thomas would take advantage of how vulnerable you were and rip into you some more with his harsh words. Your avoiding eyes moved toward the bookshelf, silently counting the amount of hardcovers Alfie owned, pressed together so tightly in the casing, it was almost difficult to drag one out. You crossed the floor slowly to create more distance between your body and Tommy’s, but as you stepped toward the corner, the man followed. “I think it would be better for you to wait in the hall.” You said softly, not turning your head at all to look at him. Your chipped fingernails brushed away the dust that coated the books so you could read the titles.

“If you think I’m afraid of Mr. Solomons, pet, you need to re-evaluate your thoughts.” He muttered. You could feel his hot breath waft over the revealed skin of your shoulder, alerting you of just how close he was standing. You spun around, giving yourself the opportunity to knee him right between his legs if need be. “I didn’t say you were afraid. I said it would be wise.” It was heard, in your words, that you had your jaw clenched and teeth gritted together. The man lifted one of his fingers and guided the ring covered digit toward your cheek, no doubt to brush the strand of hair away that never ceased its mission to annoy you. “He will cut that finger off.” You whispered softly, cheek already burning and he hadn’t even touched you yet. One minute, Thomas looked as if he may gently brush the strand away, the next you felt a sharp tug on the back of your head. You’d been so lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t felt his fingers wrap in your thick locks. Your scalp was on fire from the sharp tug, wincing instantly. You opened your mouth to cry out, but he placed his other hand against your mouth, silencing you. “Listen to me.” He warned, moving his lips to your ear. “I know Alfie crossed me, but he’s never one to admit to his mistakes, right, so you let him know if he does that again, it’s you that will suffer.” Shoving you roughly away from him, your back hit the bookshelf and the entire wooden casing shook. Thomas yanked you out of the way, easily saving you from being crushed by the oversized cabinet. A loud creaking filled Alfie’s office before the entire thing toppled over. If you would’ve been underneath that, it probably would’ve killed you. You let out a loud gasp when your rescuer, and coincidentally the man who had caused that little accident, pushed you down on the flat side of the bookshelf. “Now then.” He stared down at you. “Let’s have a little fun until Alfie comes running back up here, eh?” He wanted you. And he had wanted you from the very first time you’d accidentally entered the office and interrupted his meeting with Alfie.

Alfie was downstairs, head buried beneath one of the machines that had stopped working. The flat of his back was pressed into the hard floor, fingers growing dirtier by the second. Twisting the gears to get them back into their proper state, he let out breathy grunts of frustration, doing his best to hurry up and fix the damn thing. His knees bent, feet pushing roughly into the floor to guide himself further beneath the machine. “This fucking thing’s always giving the lot of you a hard fucking time, innit. Need to just throw this one out, yeah, it’s fucking useless.” Alfie’s men were gathered around him in a huddle, watching him squirm to try and fix the machine for the third time that week. “We’ll find a new one, boss.” One of the lads spoke up. Alfie didn’t respond, he merely grunted, and that was good enough for the boy. “Ollie, go get me pick out of my top drawer, yeah, I need that fucker so I can unscrew this.” Poking his head out from under the machine, the man licked his lips and waited for Ollie to scurry off.

Ollie climbed the stairs to retrieve the needle-like pin. He was much quieter on the steps when ascending them. There was no booming footsteps or loud huffs of annoyance. He didn’t mutter under his breath, swearing every other word. The boy turned the corner sharply and opened the door to the office. The clipboard in his hand clattered to the floor, dark eyes moving over your body and then Tommy’s. The bookshelf Tommy had you laid upon was resting halfway on top of Alfie’s desk. The little plant you’d purchased for Alfie a while ago was now shattered on the floor and majority of the books had come free from their slot. Some books were open, face down on the floor, others were slung all the way across the room to rest beside the door, but the casing wasn’t what Ollie was focused on. “What the hell are you doing!” Ollie barked loudly. The sight was horrifying. Tommy had you pinned to the wooden shelf, his hand desperately searching for a way beneath your mess of skirts. He was pressing feverish kisses to your hot skin, evidently ignoring the way you were squirming to get free. Thomas halted at the intrusion, eyes dark and clouded over with lust when he looked to the boy in the door. “Get out, Ollie. I’ll be finished in a minute.” His voice was deep and husky, thoughts obviously so hazy from his need for sex, he didn’t give a shit about being caught. You let a loud groan of plea leave your throat, dark eyes locking on to Ollie’s. The boy didn’t like you, but he respected you and never wanted to see you hurt. “Get off of her!” Ollie’s chest broadened and his feet hit the floor loudly as he approached. “Now!” His hand wrapped around Tommy’s shoulder, angrily pulling the man back. The two stumbled, both eager to get the other one out of the way. Thomas was determined to knock Ollie out and continue with what he was doing, Ollie was determined to try and knock Thomas out and then get you out of the room.

You stumbled to your feet, adjusting your dress quickly. The front of the fabric had fallen down significantly and your cheeks were flushed a red hue. The entire room was hot and you could feel your eyes beginning to water. Ollie growled, slamming Tommy up against the wall before roughly hitting him in the gut. You gasped sharply at the blow, but Thomas was unaffected. He lunged forward, yanking the boy to the floor with a growl. They continued to roll around on the floor, making even more of a mess in Alfie’s office. The laces on your gown were torn and your hair, previously neatly pinned out of your face, messily hung around your shoulders, still loosely tied in its clip. Alfie was growing agitated so he slid out from underneath the machinery, annoyance filling him quickly. “Where the hell is ollie!” He barked loudly. In this corridor, it was difficult to hear anything else because of how cemented the walls were.

“Sir, there’s a fight in your office!” One of the boys shouted. Alfie nearly broke his neck, swiveling around so fast. The soles of his boots crushed anything in their path, charging down the long hall and back into the main area of the bakery. His first thought was you. He could hear it now. Very clearly. Ollie was grunting and growling, Tommy was swearing and you were shouting for them to stop. Well— for Tommy to. Alfie climbed the stairs with his shoulders broadened and his lips wet. He was ready to shout. You prepared yourself, the second you heard him approaching. “What the fuck is going on!” The large man came to a stop in the doorway, studying the scene. His books were thrown this way and that, his right hand man was pinned to the floor, nose bloody and cheek swollen. Thomas was breathing heavily and although Ollie had hit him a few good times, there were no marks. His eyes dragged across the room to find you, cowering away in the far corner where nobody could touch you. The hard expression on his face seemed to harden further when he caught sight of the tanned laces undone, hanging around your chest. They were torn, making it impossible for you to tie back up. His fingers curled inward, ready to knock someone out. He looked to the men. Which one of them was it? He questioned silently, scanning the pair.

Murder. You saw it floating in Alfie’s gaze, the second he looked at you. Stepping over the messy floor, you pushed yourself into his bear-like arms and clung to him. Nobody could hurt you when he was around. Alfie locked his arm around you securely, ensuring that if anyone even dare to try and approach, they wouldn’t be able to touch you. When Thomas finally lifted himself off of Ollie, he adjusted his blazer and then licked his lips. “Well, I’ll be on my way then.” He spoke gruffly, pushing his messy black hair out of his eyes. You stiffened in your baker’s arms at the voice and the gangster instantly knew what had happened. “Ollie.” He barked. “Would you please take her downstairs and make sure she’s alright, mh?” His right-hand man was up in seconds. Alfie wasn’t an idiot. He didn’t need an explanation of what had happened. Ollie wiped the blood away from his lip before he moved toward you, smoothly grabbing ahold of your arm before hurriedly leading you away from the room. The second you and Ollie had reached the bottom of the stairs, you heard the roar from Alfie’s lips. The words that spewed from his lips were incoherent, simply muffled, but loud. Ollie pulled you from your thoughts, leading you down the hall and into a room of safety. He needed to tend to his wounds, but he needed to keep a close eye on you as well. He could tell you were distant, no doubt scared after what had happened. “Sit down there.” He ushered to the sofa in the corner. “Alfie’s probably going to be a while, so just get comfy.” Opening the white cabinet, Ollie dragged out a first aid kit. The inside was jam-packed with necessities, but he simply pulled out some rubbing alcohol and a tissue. You watched him intently, studying the way he wiped the blood away that fell from his nose before he stuck a clean swab of tissue in his nostril to prevent more bleeding. He rubbed the alcohol along the cut on his upper lip, not wincing in the slightest before he gave attention to the mark on his cheek. Lifting the icepack, he turned to set it in the icebox in the corner before looking to you as you spoke up. “Thank you.” Your voice was sweet, it reminded him of the days he spent as a child, laying outside in the garden with his younger sister as they ate popsicles and watched the butterflies fly above them. He frowned at the brief memory before looking to you. He wasn’t sure why he had had such a strong disliking toward you, but after today, things would surely change. He opened another cabinet and handed you a new tie to lace through the holes on the front of your dress. “You’ll need to re-tie that before Alfie comes down or else he’s going to continue to be angry.” You nodded in understanding, tongue tracing your lips. “I’ve got to go check that everything’s okay, I’m going to lock this door. Only Alfie has the other key to get in, so you’ll be okay.” Again, you nodded, giving no verbal reply. Ollie smiled lightly before excusing himself. Leaving the room, you heard the lock click audibly before you were left in the silence, alone with your thoughts as you changed the lace out on your dress.

———————————————————

Shadows. They loomed over you. The floor beneath you was wet, ice cold against your bare skin. The solid ground nipped at your pale flesh, sticking to you with an impossible grip. You were in the middle of the alley, staring up at the dark buildings that towered higher than any buildings you’d ever seen before. The roofs nearly kissed the moon, stars shining brightly above, peaceful opposed to what you were experiencing on the ground below. Hushed whispers pressed against your ear and hot fingers ran along your body. You couldn’t move. The scream you wanted to let free was caught in your chest, blocked by the bubble in your throat. You couldn’t make a sound. The air was so cold, it froze your lungs with every inhale. It was more painful to breathe right now, than to suffer the itching burn in your chest from suffocation. You were alone. And yet, not. You could feel the presence of someone lurking as they looked down at you. Touching you. Feeding off of you. Your fear was their reward and boy, they were succeeding. You dared to lift your arm, but the only thing you accomplished was more pain. The ground clung to your skin, threatening to pull your flesh from your body, so you stopped struggling. You lay still and waited for whatever was to come.

“Y/N?” Your name echoed down the alley. “Y/N.” He said again, a little harsher. You shut your eyes, trying to plug your ears mentally since you couldn’t do it physically. The world around you seemed to crumble when you recognized the voice to belong to none other than Tommy Shelby. “Y/N.” He hissed again, daring you to open your eyes, but you wouldnt. You refused to look at the cocky, blue-eyed, cigarette-loving, full of himself, bastard. “Y/N!” Your eyes shot open and you were back in the room Ollie had left you in. Your breathing was heavy, loud and jagged. “You’re alright.” Alfie assured, arms curling around you securely so he could drag you off of the sofa and on to his lap on the floor. “It was just a bad dream, yeah, just a bad fucking dream, pet.” Your heart felt like it was being squeezed. Only the alley had been a dream, not the events that took place in Alfie’s office. Your arms locked around his neck in a vice and you tried to mold your body into his, wanting nothing more than to become one so you could escape the horrible memories crowding your brain. Alfie kissed your shoulder gently, drawing you into him as close as he was able. “Pet, it’s okay, right, I’ve handled it.” You drew back to inspect the man, ensuring he didn’t have any marks. Your eyes raked down his face, along his neck and then arms. He was completely okay— well, until you saw his hand. His knuckles were already tinted purple, no doubt bruised from whatever damage he had done to his mate, Thomas. The very thought of the name made your throat close and the bile rise. Alfie brushed your hair away from your face, studying you for marks. You had clumsy teeth imprints in your skin from where the fucking peaky bastard had dared to try and mark you. Alfie kissed your sore, before parting his lips and leaving his own mark on your skin. It wasn’t the time for this, but god it felt good, and it made you forget about what had originally been there. His beard tickled your sensitive skin and created a delicious contrast with the hickey he left behind. “I’m sorry I left you alone with him, pet. I should’ve fucking known, yeah, he was being a fucking—“

Straightening on his lap, you pressed your lips against his own to silence him. “Shut up. I don’t want you blaming yourself. It was nobody’s fault. Nobody’s, but his.” Brushing Alfie’s hair out of his eyes, you bit your bottom lip visibly. “My sickness is gone.” You pointed out, attempting to draw a smile from him. You didn’t want to talk about the events from earlier. Not right now anyway. His eyes lifted to yours, brows furrowing in confusion. He’d never understand how you could go through something like that, but still be so optimistic in the end and focus on the positives. The man grunted breathily. “Because you took your fucking medicine, yeah, see, I told you.” Your heart skipped a beat at the grin he let escape and your lips met his again for a delicate kiss. “Mh, yes, yes you did, thank you.” Giving him all the credit because you loved to see Alfie with a bit of an ego boost, you pushed your face into his neck and let the rest of the world fade away. Alfie was everything in the world to you. “I need to go by my grandmas and pick up a few more things tomorrow if you want to go with me?” You whispered sleepily as the silence washed over the room and you couldn’t think of anything else to say. Alfie gave a short nod, afraid to move. He could feel you drifting off and he figured maybe if he let you nap, but he stuck around to hold you, then you wouldn’t have any nightmares. “Anything you want, pet.” Your breaths were much deeper over a span of just a few seconds and before you were lost in a world of obliviousness, you sleepily whispered in response to his words. “All I want is you.” The entirety of Alfie’s body relaxed. There was no tension in his muscles as he held you against him. He smiled in your hair, nuzzling into you further. He had to agree, all he wanted in life was you as well.

———————————————————

Part 1   Part 2  Part 3   Part 4   Part 5    Part 7   Part 8     Part 9

Tagged: @thatsamegirl @peakyhoegh @ihclipse @callisen @hardygal69 @centerhabit @favouritereadings @buckypetal15 @captstefanbrandt @lucacangettathisass @seremedyxiii @astro-sweetheart @goodiesintheclosetlove @fangirlfreakingout @kelly-fasel

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Hi, guys! I hope you enjoy this part!! Im sorry I’m falling behind ): I will be posting another story today, I’m just not sure how many or which one yet!! ❤️ thank you for being so patient with me and remember requests are always open ( even though I am slacking on posting omg ahah )

[daddyslittlejuliet]

Ways to De-Stink Your Smelly Dog and Your House

The post Ways to De-Stink Your Smelly Dog and Your House by Wendy Newell appeared first on Dogster. Copying over entire articles infringes on copyright laws. You may not be aware of it, but all of these articles were assigned, contracted and paid for, so they aren’t considered public domain. However, we appreciate that you like the article and would love it if you continued sharing just the first paragraph of an article, then linking out to the rest of the piece on Dogster.com.

If your dog smells, there’s a good chance your house has a lingering stench. As a dogsitter constantly surrounded by pups, I’m used to it. In fact, I was at a friend’s house lounging on their patio, and my friend apologized for the dog pee smell. “Why are you apologizing to Wendy?” her husband asked. “It would be weird if she wasn’t smelling dog pee.” He’s not wrong. Of course, I don’t just know dog smells, I know how to combat them!

Your smelly pup

Proper bathing and cleaning ears and teeth will help decrease the smell of your pup. Photography by Willeecole/Thinkstock.

The easiest way to keep your life dog-smell free is to keep your dog clean!

BATHING: How often you bathe your pup depends on breed, coat, skin condition and activity level. If you aren’t sure how often, ask your groomer. My sweet mutt got a weekly shower when we hiked every day. As an inside and outside dog, the frequent bathing was required if he also wanted to cuddle in my bed! Now that he’s 13, and a lot less active, he gets a bath about once a month.

EARS: Don’t forget to clean your dog’s ears! Use cleaner specifically made for this purpose. If you’re wiping out your dog’s ears, be very careful and don’t go into the ear canal.

BAD BREATH: Taking care of your dog’s teeth is mandatory if you want to be able to enjoy doggie kisses.

Brush your pup’s teeth daily. If you’re not doing this now, it’s not too late to start. Take it slow, and start “brushing” with your finger. Once your dog is comfortable with that, add dog toothpaste to your finger. Once that’s going well, swap out your finger for a dog toothbrush. Use toothpaste specifically made for dogs, as human toothpaste may include ingredients that can be harmful to your pet.

Keep water bowls clean and full. You can even purchase a water additive that helps with keeping your dog’s teeth clean. This has worked well for my dog — I just have to purchase the additive that has no taste. We humans might like minty freshness, but I haven’t found a dog that does!

Dental chews are great because your dog helps keep his own teeth plaque-free. But keep an eye on your pup when he’s enjoying a chew. If you can’t be there to make sure he’s safe, take the chew away when you leave.

See your vet. Your dog’s doctor will know when your pup needs to have his teeth professionally cleaned or if there is a medical problem causing the bad smell.

FLATULENCE: I realize it’s common to blame a rogue fart on the dog, but it’s good to try and stop it from happening if you can.

If your dog is gassy, look at his food. You may need to change brands or proteins. Talk to your vet before making a change.

If things get really bad or there’s a change in your dog’s flatulence level, see a vet. It could be a sign of a bigger issue.

Visit a groomer and have your dog’s anal glands expressed. Believe me, you don’t want to do it. Leave that to the professionals.

Your smelly house

Cover anywhere your pet slumbers with a washable cover. Sofa, chair, bed, floor, etc. Yoga mats make great floor covers and are easy to clean. Photography ©FatCamera | Getty Images.

The key to a nice-smelling house is constant cleaning! Depending on your pup’s activity level, you may have to vacuum and dust anywhere between daily to weekly.

Wash everything. Seriously. If it’s safe to throw it in the washing machine, do it! Soft toys, dog (and human, if he shares with you) bedding and sofa covers are all items that can be washed in hot water weekly. If an accident happens, the faster you clean it up the better.

Invest in a rug/carpet cleaner. For best results, sprinkle baking soda over your rug, and wait 15 minutes before vacuuming up. Vacuum in a four-way pattern, up and down, sideways, diagonal one way, diagonal the other.

Pushing the fibers around and getting the dirt and grime from around them is key to a good smell. Next do the same four-way pattern with your rug cleaner using the machine’s soap mixture. Finally, finish off with one more four-way pattern of a 3-to-1 mixture of water and vinegar in the machine.

If your dog doesn’t see at is an evil creature, investing in an automated robot floor cleaner and/or vacuum is a great way to keep the floor from getting grimy. Get a model specifically made to combat animal fur, and empty it often.

When all else fails, cover the scent: Some-times that smell just isn’t going to go away. Your best bet is to cover it with something that smells better. The key to neutralizing the smell is to make sure what you are using is safe for your pet. Here are some options:

Pet-safe scented candles. Place high enough that a rogue tail won’t take one out and burn down your house!

Pet-safe room air neutralizers are a great thing to grab if your friend pulls up unannounced, and you know your house has a bit of a dog stench happening.

Thumbnail: Photography ©uplifted | Getty Images.

About the author

Wendy Newell is a former VP of Sales turned dog sitter, which keeps her busy being a dog chauffeur, picking up poop and sacrificing her bed. Wendy and her dog, Riggins, take their always-changing pack of pups on adventures throughout the Los Angeles area. Learn more about them on Facebook at The Active Pack and on Instagram at @wnewell.

Editor’s note: This article first appeared in Dogster magazine. Have you seen the new Dogster print magazine in stores? Or in the waiting room of your vet’s office? Subscribe now to get Dogster magazine delivered straight to you!

Read more about dog grooming on Dogster.com:

Wondering How to Clean Your Dog’s Ears? A How-To (and How Often!) Guide

How Often to Brush a Dog’s Teeth and Other Tips on Brushing Your Dog’s Teeth

Wondering How Often to Bathe a Dog? It Depends on These Factors

The post Ways to De-Stink Your Smelly Dog and Your House by Wendy Newell appeared first on Dogster. Copying over entire articles infringes on copyright laws. You may not be aware of it, but all of these articles were assigned, contracted and paid for, so they aren’t considered public domain. However, we appreciate that you like the article and would love it if you continued sharing just the first paragraph of an article, then linking out to the rest of the piece on Dogster.com.

[jeffreyrwelch]

Ways to De-Stink Your Smelly Dog and Your House

The post Ways to De-Stink Your Smelly Dog and Your House by Wendy Newell appeared first on Dogster. Copying over entire articles infringes on copyright laws. You may not be aware of it, but all of these articles were assigned, contracted and paid for, so they aren’t considered public domain. However, we appreciate that you like the article and would love it if you continued sharing just the first paragraph of an article, then linking out to the rest of the piece on Dogster.com.

If your dog smells, there’s a good chance your house has a lingering stench. As a dogsitter constantly surrounded by pups, I’m used to it. In fact, I was at a friend’s house lounging on their patio, and my friend apologized for the dog pee smell. “Why are you apologizing to Wendy?” her husband asked. “It would be weird if she wasn’t smelling dog pee.” He’s not wrong. Of course, I don’t just know dog smells, I know how to combat them!

Your smelly pup

Proper bathing and cleaning ears and teeth will help decrease the smell of your pup. Photography by Willeecole/Thinkstock.

The easiest way to keep your life dog-smell free is to keep your dog clean!

BATHING: How often you bathe your pup depends on breed, coat, skin condition and activity level. If you aren’t sure how often, ask your groomer. My sweet mutt got a weekly shower when we hiked every day. As an inside and outside dog, the frequent bathing was required if he also wanted to cuddle in my bed! Now that he’s 13, and a lot less active, he gets a bath about once a month.

EARS: Don’t forget to clean your dog’s ears! Use cleaner specifically made for this purpose. If you’re wiping out your dog’s ears, be very careful and don’t go into the ear canal.

BAD BREATH: Taking care of your dog’s teeth is mandatory if you want to be able to enjoy doggie kisses.

Brush your pup’s teeth daily. If you’re not doing this now, it’s not too late to start. Take it slow, and start “brushing” with your finger. Once your dog is comfortable with that, add dog toothpaste to your finger. Once that’s going well, swap out your finger for a dog toothbrush. Use toothpaste specifically made for dogs, as human toothpaste may include ingredients that can be harmful to your pet.

Keep water bowls clean and full. You can even purchase a water additive that helps with keeping your dog’s teeth clean. This has worked well for my dog — I just have to purchase the additive that has no taste. We humans might like minty freshness, but I haven’t found a dog that does!

Dental chews are great because your dog helps keep his own teeth plaque-free. But keep an eye on your pup when he’s enjoying a chew. If you can’t be there to make sure he’s safe, take the chew away when you leave.

See your vet. Your dog’s doctor will know when your pup needs to have his teeth professionally cleaned or if there is a medical problem causing the bad smell.

FLATULENCE: I realize it’s common to blame a rogue fart on the dog, but it’s good to try and stop it from happening if you can.

If your dog is gassy, look at his food. You may need to change brands or proteins. Talk to your vet before making a change.

If things get really bad or there’s a change in your dog’s flatulence level, see a vet. It could be a sign of a bigger issue.

Visit a groomer and have your dog’s anal glands expressed. Believe me, you don’t want to do it. Leave that to the professionals.

Your smelly house

Cover anywhere your pet slumbers with a washable cover. Sofa, chair, bed, floor, etc. Yoga mats make great floor covers and are easy to clean. Photography ©FatCamera | Getty Images.

The key to a nice-smelling house is constant cleaning! Depending on your pup’s activity level, you may have to vacuum and dust anywhere between daily to weekly.

Wash everything. Seriously. If it’s safe to throw it in the washing machine, do it! Soft toys, dog (and human, if he shares with you) bedding and sofa covers are all items that can be washed in hot water weekly. If an accident happens, the faster you clean it up the better.

Invest in a rug/carpet cleaner. For best results, sprinkle baking soda over your rug, and wait 15 minutes before vacuuming up. Vacuum in a four-way pattern, up and down, sideways, diagonal one way, diagonal the other.

Pushing the fibers around and getting the dirt and grime from around them is key to a good smell. Next do the same four-way pattern with your rug cleaner using the machine’s soap mixture. Finally, finish off with one more four-way pattern of a 3-to-1 mixture of water and vinegar in the machine.

If your dog doesn’t see at is an evil creature, investing in an automated robot floor cleaner and/or vacuum is a great way to keep the floor from getting grimy. Get a model specifically made to combat animal fur, and empty it often.

When all else fails, cover the scent: Some-times that smell just isn’t going to go away. Your best bet is to cover it with something that smells better. The key to neutralizing the smell is to make sure what you are using is safe for your pet. Here are some options:

Pet-safe scented candles. Place high enough that a rogue tail won’t take one out and burn down your house!

Pet-safe room air neutralizers are a great thing to grab if your friend pulls up unannounced, and you know your house has a bit of a dog stench happening.

Thumbnail: Photography ©uplifted | Getty Images.

About the author

Wendy Newell is a former VP of Sales turned dog sitter, which keeps her busy being a dog chauffeur, picking up poop and sacrificing her bed. Wendy and her dog, Riggins, take their always-changing pack of pups on adventures throughout the Los Angeles area. Learn more about them on Facebook at The Active Pack and on Instagram at @wnewell.

Editor’s note: This article first appeared in Dogster magazine. Have you seen the new Dogster print magazine in stores? Or in the waiting room of your vet’s office? Subscribe now to get Dogster magazine delivered straight to you!

Read more about dog grooming on Dogster.com:

Wondering How to Clean Your Dog’s Ears? A How-To (and How Often!) Guide

How Often to Brush a Dog’s Teeth and Other Tips on Brushing Your Dog’s Teeth

Wondering How Often to Bathe a Dog? It Depends on These Factors

The post Ways to De-Stink Your Smelly Dog and Your House by Wendy Newell appeared first on Dogster. Copying over entire articles infringes on copyright laws. You may not be aware of it, but all of these articles were assigned, contracted and paid for, so they aren’t considered public domain. However, we appreciate that you like the article and would love it if you continued sharing just the first paragraph of an article, then linking out to the rest of the piece on Dogster.com.

[stiles-wtf]

Ways to De-Stink Your Smelly Dog and Your House

The post Ways to De-Stink Your Smelly Dog and Your House by Wendy Newell appeared first on Dogster. Copying over entire articles infringes on copyright laws. You may not be aware of it, but all of these articles were assigned, contracted and paid for, so they aren’t considered public domain. However, we appreciate that you like the article and would love it if you continued sharing just the first paragraph of an article, then linking out to the rest of the piece on Dogster.com.

If your dog smells, there’s a good chance your house has a lingering stench. As a dogsitter constantly surrounded by pups, I’m used to it. In fact, I was at a friend’s house lounging on their patio, and my friend apologized for the dog pee smell. “Why are you apologizing to Wendy?” her husband asked. “It would be weird if she wasn’t smelling dog pee.” He’s not wrong. Of course, I don’t just know dog smells, I know how to combat them!

Your smelly pup

Proper bathing and cleaning ears and teeth will help decrease the smell of your pup. Photography by Willeecole/Thinkstock.

The easiest way to keep your life dog-smell free is to keep your dog clean!

BATHING: How often you bathe your pup depends on breed, coat, skin condition and activity level. If you aren’t sure how often, ask your groomer. My sweet mutt got a weekly shower when we hiked every day. As an inside and outside dog, the frequent bathing was required if he also wanted to cuddle in my bed! Now that he’s 13, and a lot less active, he gets a bath about once a month.

EARS: Don’t forget to clean your dog’s ears! Use cleaner specifically made for this purpose. If you’re wiping out your dog’s ears, be very careful and don’t go into the ear canal.

BAD BREATH: Taking care of your dog’s teeth is mandatory if you want to be able to enjoy doggie kisses.

Brush your pup’s teeth daily. If you’re not doing this now, it’s not too late to start. Take it slow, and start “brushing” with your finger. Once your dog is comfortable with that, add dog toothpaste to your finger. Once that’s going well, swap out your finger for a dog toothbrush. Use toothpaste specifically made for dogs, as human toothpaste may include ingredients that can be harmful to your pet.

Keep water bowls clean and full. You can even purchase a water additive that helps with keeping your dog’s teeth clean. This has worked well for my dog — I just have to purchase the additive that has no taste. We humans might like minty freshness, but I haven’t found a dog that does!

Dental chews are great because your dog helps keep his own teeth plaque-free. But keep an eye on your pup when he’s enjoying a chew. If you can’t be there to make sure he’s safe, take the chew away when you leave.

See your vet. Your dog’s doctor will know when your pup needs to have his teeth professionally cleaned or if there is a medical problem causing the bad smell.

FLATULENCE: I realize it’s common to blame a rogue fart on the dog, but it’s good to try and stop it from happening if you can.

If your dog is gassy, look at his food. You may need to change brands or proteins. Talk to your vet before making a change.

If things get really bad or there’s a change in your dog’s flatulence level, see a vet. It could be a sign of a bigger issue.

Visit a groomer and have your dog’s anal glands expressed. Believe me, you don’t want to do it. Leave that to the professionals.

Your smelly house

Cover anywhere your pet slumbers with a washable cover. Sofa, chair, bed, floor, etc. Yoga mats make great floor covers and are easy to clean. Photography ©FatCamera | Getty Images.

The key to a nice-smelling house is constant cleaning! Depending on your pup’s activity level, you may have to vacuum and dust anywhere between daily to weekly.

Wash everything. Seriously. If it’s safe to throw it in the washing machine, do it! Soft toys, dog (and human, if he shares with you) bedding and sofa covers are all items that can be washed in hot water weekly. If an accident happens, the faster you clean it up the better.

Invest in a rug/carpet cleaner. For best results, sprinkle baking soda over your rug, and wait 15 minutes before vacuuming up. Vacuum in a four-way pattern, up and down, sideways, diagonal one way, diagonal the other.

Pushing the fibers around and getting the dirt and grime from around them is key to a good smell. Next do the same four-way pattern with your rug cleaner using the machine’s soap mixture. Finally, finish off with one more four-way pattern of a 3-to-1 mixture of water and vinegar in the machine.

If your dog doesn’t see at is an evil creature, investing in an automated robot floor cleaner and/or vacuum is a great way to keep the floor from getting grimy. Get a model specifically made to combat animal fur, and empty it often.

When all else fails, cover the scent: Some-times that smell just isn’t going to go away. Your best bet is to cover it with something that smells better. The key to neutralizing the smell is to make sure what you are using is safe for your pet. Here are some options:

Pet-safe scented candles. Place high enough that a rogue tail won’t take one out and burn down your house!

Pet-safe room air neutralizers are a great thing to grab if your friend pulls up unannounced, and you know your house has a bit of a dog stench happening.

Thumbnail: Photography ©uplifted | Getty Images.

About the author

Wendy Newell is a former VP of Sales turned dog sitter, which keeps her busy being a dog chauffeur, picking up poop and sacrificing her bed. Wendy and her dog, Riggins, take their always-changing pack of pups on adventures throughout the Los Angeles area. Learn more about them on Facebook at The Active Pack and on Instagram at @wnewell.

Editor’s note: This article first appeared in Dogster magazine. Have you seen the new Dogster print magazine in stores? Or in the waiting room of your vet’s office? Subscribe now to get Dogster magazine delivered straight to you!

Read more about dog grooming on Dogster.com:

Wondering How to Clean Your Dog’s Ears? A How-To (and How Often!) Guide

How Often to Brush a Dog’s Teeth and Other Tips on Brushing Your Dog’s Teeth

Wondering How Often to Bathe a Dog? It Depends on These Factors

The post Ways to De-Stink Your Smelly Dog and Your House by Wendy Newell appeared first on Dogster. Copying over entire articles infringes on copyright laws. You may not be aware of it, but all of these articles were assigned, contracted and paid for, so they aren’t considered public domain. However, we appreciate that you like the article and would love it if you continued sharing just the first paragraph of an article, then linking out to the rest of the piece on Dogster.com.

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Ways to De-Stink Your Smelly Dog and Your House

The post Ways to De-Stink Your Smelly Dog and Your House by Wendy Newell appeared first on Dogster. Copying over entire articles infringes on copyright laws. You may not be aware of it, but all of these articles were assigned, contracted and paid for, so they aren’t considered public domain. However, we appreciate that you like the article and would love it if you continued sharing just the first paragraph of an article, then linking out to the rest of the piece on Dogster.com.

If your dog smells, there’s a good chance your house has a lingering stench. As a dogsitter constantly surrounded by pups, I’m used to it. In fact, I was at a friend’s house lounging on their patio, and my friend apologized for the dog pee smell. “Why are you apologizing to Wendy?” her husband asked. “It would be weird if she wasn’t smelling dog pee.” He’s not wrong. Of course, I don’t just know dog smells, I know how to combat them!

Your smelly pup

Proper bathing and cleaning ears and teeth will help decrease the smell of your pup. Photography by Willeecole/Thinkstock.

The easiest way to keep your life dog-smell free is to keep your dog clean!

BATHING: How often you bathe your pup depends on breed, coat, skin condition and activity level. If you aren’t sure how often, ask your groomer. My sweet mutt got a weekly shower when we hiked every day. As an inside and outside dog, the frequent bathing was required if he also wanted to cuddle in my bed! Now that he’s 13, and a lot less active, he gets a bath about once a month.

EARS: Don’t forget to clean your dog’s ears! Use cleaner specifically made for this purpose. If you’re wiping out your dog’s ears, be very careful and don’t go into the ear canal.

BAD BREATH: Taking care of your dog’s teeth is mandatory if you want to be able to enjoy doggie kisses.

Brush your pup’s teeth daily. If you’re not doing this now, it’s not too late to start. Take it slow, and start “brushing” with your finger. Once your dog is comfortable with that, add dog toothpaste to your finger. Once that’s going well, swap out your finger for a dog toothbrush. Use toothpaste specifically made for dogs, as human toothpaste may include ingredients that can be harmful to your pet.

Keep water bowls clean and full. You can even purchase a water additive that helps with keeping your dog’s teeth clean. This has worked well for my dog — I just have to purchase the additive that has no taste. We humans might like minty freshness, but I haven’t found a dog that does!

Dental chews are great because your dog helps keep his own teeth plaque-free. But keep an eye on your pup when he’s enjoying a chew. If you can’t be there to make sure he’s safe, take the chew away when you leave.

See your vet. Your dog’s doctor will know when your pup needs to have his teeth professionally cleaned or if there is a medical problem causing the bad smell.

FLATULENCE: I realize it’s common to blame a rogue fart on the dog, but it’s good to try and stop it from happening if you can.

If your dog is gassy, look at his food. You may need to change brands or proteins. Talk to your vet before making a change.

If things get really bad or there’s a change in your dog’s flatulence level, see a vet. It could be a sign of a bigger issue.

Visit a groomer and have your dog’s anal glands expressed. Believe me, you don’t want to do it. Leave that to the professionals.

Your smelly house

Cover anywhere your pet slumbers with a washable cover. Sofa, chair, bed, floor, etc. Yoga mats make great floor covers and are easy to clean. Photography ©FatCamera | Getty Images.

The key to a nice-smelling house is constant cleaning! Depending on your pup’s activity level, you may have to vacuum and dust anywhere between daily to weekly.

Wash everything. Seriously. If it’s safe to throw it in the washing machine, do it! Soft toys, dog (and human, if he shares with you) bedding and sofa covers are all items that can be washed in hot water weekly. If an accident happens, the faster you clean it up the better.

Invest in a rug/carpet cleaner. For best results, sprinkle baking soda over your rug, and wait 15 minutes before vacuuming up. Vacuum in a four-way pattern, up and down, sideways, diagonal one way, diagonal the other.

Pushing the fibers around and getting the dirt and grime from around them is key to a good smell. Next do the same four-way pattern with your rug cleaner using the machine’s soap mixture. Finally, finish off with one more four-way pattern of a 3-to-1 mixture of water and vinegar in the machine.

If your dog doesn’t see at is an evil creature, investing in an automated robot floor cleaner and/or vacuum is a great way to keep the floor from getting grimy. Get a model specifically made to combat animal fur, and empty it often.

When all else fails, cover the scent: Some-times that smell just isn’t going to go away. Your best bet is to cover it with something that smells better. The key to neutralizing the smell is to make sure what you are using is safe for your pet. Here are some options:

Pet-safe scented candles. Place high enough that a rogue tail won’t take one out and burn down your house!

Pet-safe room air neutralizers are a great thing to grab if your friend pulls up unannounced, and you know your house has a bit of a dog stench happening.

Thumbnail: Photography ©uplifted | Getty Images.

About the author

Wendy Newell is a former VP of Sales turned dog sitter, which keeps her busy being a dog chauffeur, picking up poop and sacrificing her bed. Wendy and her dog, Riggins, take their always-changing pack of pups on adventures throughout the Los Angeles area. Learn more about them on Facebook at The Active Pack and on Instagram at @wnewell.

Editor’s note: This article first appeared in Dogster magazine. Have you seen the new Dogster print magazine in stores? Or in the waiting room of your vet’s office? Subscribe now to get Dogster magazine delivered straight to you!

Read more about dog grooming on Dogster.com:

Wondering How to Clean Your Dog’s Ears? A How-To (and How Often!) Guide

How Often to Brush a Dog’s Teeth and Other Tips on Brushing Your Dog’s Teeth

Wondering How Often to Bathe a Dog? It Depends on These Factors

The post Ways to De-Stink Your Smelly Dog and Your House by Wendy Newell appeared first on Dogster. Copying over entire articles infringes on copyright laws. You may not be aware of it, but all of these articles were assigned, contracted and paid for, so they aren’t considered public domain. However, we appreciate that you like the article and would love it if you continued sharing just the first paragraph of an article, then linking out to the rest of the piece on Dogster.com.