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alistairsmonstercafe · 1 year ago

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Hi! Just incase you do requests, could we please have some wraith-ghost x werewolf!reader? I saw the fanart and couldn’t stop thinking about Ghost being absolutely dwarfed by their partner especially in their shift.

(And in case of nsfw, imagine ghost helping his partner through rut and getting absolutely railed by his bf half-shifted. The size difference is going crazy!)

NSFW Guiding A Shadow

NOTICE Male Werewolf TOP/DOM reader

CHARACTER BOTTOM/SUB Wraith Ghost

CW Scent Kink, monster fucking, size kink, werewolf rut, slight blood (just mentions of you scratching him accidentally with claws), mentions of poly relationship with 141 (so no cheating they all bang each other like horny rabbits)

ADDITIONAL I don't mind Fem/Fem aligned readers reading but don't feel insulted/complain that I strictly don't do Fem reader, not my cuppa tea mate.

INSPIRATION @/Bluegiragi Monster AU on Twt and Tumblr

NOTE Sorry for my sudden absence a while ago... Cough.. I think in my little adhd brain I had a fit of hyperfixation and just burnt out as easy as I came.

When you had first arrived in the helicopter, the moment Ghost had caught even a whiff of a tail, he groaned. Another werewolf? Albeit larger. But after Soap was just as recent? He prayed you weren't like him.

Well. Hoped.

He looked at you what could only be assumed from under his balaclava was a scowl. Eyes looking you up and down with a harsh crease in his eyebrows. Furrowed and judging as you walked off the plane.

Training would never be fun with a werewolf, that was for sure with their size, and with you? Many dwarfed in comparison. You were not as bulky as Soap, persay, but damn, you were built. Decently thick legs and a height that towered over many, even Ghost. Fur upon different parts of your body and decently groomed might one say.

And after hitting it off with Soap (as he wished wasn't expected,) he was yet then assigned with the task of watching over you. The likes of you, of which, while quiet, seemed to be influenced by Soap that he, Ghost, was not as scary as he turned to be. No matter how many growls or warnings of what he could do to you, you never seemed to be phased. And just as Soap had wiggled into Ghost's heart, who said it could only hold one?

You had seemed to wedge your way into that dark depth he called a heart. (As how he always described it, but nobody ever believed him.) And he seemed to accept you more. React less to your energy and simply nod. The best you could ever get you supposed. But who could complain? Not you, thats for sure.

The real kicker had been training day. It was you, Gaz, Ghost, Soap, and Price gearing up for what was meant to be a casual spar. Soap seemed ecstatic at a new man who could keep up to his size, and even challenge him. Price and Gaz could only agree to see how this would play out.

But Ghost? His eyes never left you. Narrowed and watching. What would your werewolf form look like? Were you smaller, or bigger then Johnny? Did you go just as wild as Johnny did on a full moon, more or less?

There were many unexplained questions, many both answered and many forgotten in a series of minutes as he saw your form.

That shouldn't have explained the sudden tent in his pants when he saw your wolf ish form panting over Johnny's, teeth playfully bared and a paw like hand keeping Johnny firmly planted into the floor as he surrendered.

That shouldn't have explained the sudden burning arousal in his core.

That shouldn't-

But it did.

And all Ghost could do was excuse himself for the restroom. Undoing his belt with whisps of smoke practically fighting to not let lose on his forearms. Muttered curses of mild frustration as he groaned and let out his cock, freeing it from his boxers as he bit his glove hard and stroked it. He couldn't let anyone know how much this affected him.

His mind foggy and desperate in both a want of release and mild curiosity, Ghost wondered how you'd feel. Hell, he was aware he'd only been interested a few times in his life, few one night stands, few casualties here in there in the squad.. But there was something about giving the control to someone who didn't always have a human form for the night made him curious.

Apparently curious enough to cum on his hand, breathing heavily as he was pulled from his high with a knock on the bathroom door.

"Hurry it up Lt, lads eh waitin' for ye." Soap grumbled, the sound of him walking in and turning on the tap was quiet.

"Out in a minute." Ghost could only reply, pulling up his boxers and zipping up his pants. He wiped down everything and pushed the stall door open to see Soap leaning against the sink with a raised brow, looking a little bruised.

"Look a little bruised there, Johnny."

Soap scoffs and shrugs.

"Tha' lad did aye number on me. Accidently broke the lads phone, but for a wolf of tha' size, I'd guess his family wasn't small either."

Size. Back to the size, practically forgetting about the fact your phone broke and Ghost was reminded when his mind briefly drifted back to your size, large and imposing an-

"Ghost to earth. Ye there or did ye ascend to high heaven to meet the queen?"

"I'm here, I'm here. Just had a thought."

"About a certain little wolf?"

"Shut your trap." Ghost had looked away as he was snapped from his thoughts once more, brushing past Soap as he reached for the door.

"You can do that a later day." Soap hummed. Watching Ghost leave with a cheeky grin.

Later that day, in the mess hall you were seen chatting idly with the squad, complaining on the cafeterias shitty meat options as everyone could only ever agree.

"I'm tellin' you guys, how can you even eat this shit? Tastes worse then a dog's ass." You groan, poking at the slice of supposed ham.

"An' how do you know what a dog's ass tastes like mate?" Gaz teases quietly, before getting a firm smack on the head by Soap.

"Look at us mate. We ain' exactly the people you wanna ask when knowing that of all things."

Gaz shrugs and gives a laugh. But you seem to pay no mind to their conversation, your eyes scanning around for Ghost. It had been a while since he was supposed to meet with the rest of you for dinner.

"I think I'm full, I'm gonna go look for Ghost, alright?" You mention quietly, and the rest nod, but Price seems to have an idea and shrugs, looking to the side.

Walking through the halls you pass by a calander, January 24. January 24? Why did that seem so familiar? It wasn't a birthday or a meeting, so you shrugged it off. A broken phone wouldn't serve you any good either. And you didn't feel too off aside from a few aches from today's spar.

But when you knocked on Ghost's door, a scent hit your nose like a truck. And a few soft groans was enough to let you know what was happening.

"Ghost?" You called out quietly, unsure to knock again.

"Can I come in?" You ask, even while fully aware of what's happening, leaving your tail wagging and your mouth almost salvating, you hold respect as you grip the door knob.

But when a strained voice of "come in", is spoken, you almost quickly push open the door. Seeing as Ghost lays on his back, two fingers stuffed into his hole as he looks up at you with a dazed expression.

"Interested in helpin' your superior out?" He groans, head falling back a little as his fingers press near a spot inside him.

And you can easily feel the strings of your restraint tear, the scent of him so aroused, so wet, so perfectly presented for you makes your instincts practical drool. A perfect position for a mate, and a perfect way to start the spring season.

You quickly find yourself on top of him, face buried in his neck as you lap at the scent, tongue licking where it can while your hand finds its way to his mouth. Shoving it in whilst he gives a muffled whine on them. But you know it's hard to restrict yourself in the confindes of a more human then wolf body. And it's almost like a silent plead to be allowed to switch as you look up at Ghost and whine, rutting your cock against his thigh.

"Fuckin' hell.. You have my permission. Go wild." Ghost whispers as he tugs you in close by the collar. And that enough is able to grow you around 4x in size. Clothes easily removes and teared off as your cock lays heavy against his thigh, as you continue to rut, and your fingers have long replaced his in his hole as you pump in and out, stretching him on your thick fingers as your long tongue finds its way up and down his body.

"F-fuck that tongue..!" Ghost moans out, back arching into your touch as the thickness of your fingers, your tongue, and heavy cock all feel like so much on him, and he loves it. Craves it even. And it's when you remove your fingers, in that brief moment he knows he's going to not be able to move for quite a bit after that.

And the stretch is even better. The thickness of your cock at the tip pushes in and burns delightfully, filling him up as you drag it down until it reaches near the base. But not entirely to leave room for the knot soon later. A slow paced easily turned into Jackhammering as you snapped your hips quickly into place after bottoming out in him, your claws digging into his thighs and hips causing mild drips of blood that Ghost couldn't care more about and flipping him over onto his stomach to reach deeper positions, and seeing a small tummy buldge hidden beneath as you place your free hand under it, making his whispy shadows go rampant on his body, his shadows shakily wrapping around the fluff of your neck to pull you in, mumbling praises. "G-good fuckin' boy- Oh fuck! So-.. So good fuckin' your lieutenant like a good pup-!"

It makes your tail wag faster and your mind run rampant on breeding the man below you, as you feel your knot built up.

All the sensations make Ghost jolt, moan, squirm, and whine. But the size and stretch is so worth it, and he wouldn't have werewolf cock any other way.

#cod #cod mw2 #male reader #alistair writes ☕️#monster au #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x male reader #bottom ghost simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #bottom ghost #ghost x male reader #ghost cod

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peppymintdreams · 2 months ago

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isaac finally allows pickle to leave (or pickle simply sneaks outside). while outside, they get turned by a vampire Σ(°ロ°)

Oooo I like that..

A Change of Blood

Isaac Rhoades x Pickle

The air outside was cool and crisp, a stark contrast to the warm safety of the home Isaac had built around Pickle like an impenetrable fortress. It had taken weeks of careful negotiation for Isaac to even consider letting them step outside. He had made it clear—blatantly, painfully clear—that the world beyond their walls was dangerous, filled with countless threats he couldn’t always protect them from.

But tonight, something in Pickle had stirred. A yearning, an ache for just a moment of freedom. Whether it was a promise Isaac begrudgingly allowed or a rebellious decision they acted on when his back was turned, they found themselves walking under the silver glow of the moon, the weight of his warnings trailing in the back of their mind.

The quiet streets were oddly still, every sound amplified—the soft crunch of their shoes against the pavement, the rustle of leaves in the wind. They wrapped their coat tighter around themselves, taking in the beauty of the night, the solitude it brought.

That solitude, however, didn’t last long.

It began as a fleeting sensation—a shiver up their spine, as if unseen eyes were watching. They stopped walking, their breath hitching as they looked over their shoulder. The street was empty.

“Just nerves,” they murmured to themselves, quickening their pace.

But the feeling grew stronger, an oppressive presence that made the hairs on the back of their neck stand. And then they saw him, stepping out from the shadows like an unholy apparition. Tall, elegant, and impossibly pale, his piercing crimson eyes glowed faintly in the dark.

“Out for a midnight stroll?” he asked, his voice smooth and predatory.

Pickle froze, instinct screaming at them to run, but their feet wouldn’t move. “I-I was just heading back,” they stammered, their voice trembling.

“Oh, don’t let me stop you,” the man said, though his tone suggested anything but permission. In a blur of movement, he was suddenly before them, his presence suffocating. “Though I must say, it’s rare to find someone so... enticing wandering alone at this hour.”

The words sent a chill through them, and they took a step back. “I really need to go,” they said, their voice firmer this time.

But he was faster. His hand shot out, cold fingers gripping their wrist. “Don’t be so hasty,” he murmured, leaning in as his eyes darkened with hunger. “I promise, this will only hurt for a moment.”

The last thing Pickle saw before darkness overtook them was his sharp, gleaming fangs descending.

When they woke, their body ached with an unfamiliar intensity. Their senses were sharper—too sharp. The soft rustle of leaves sounded deafening, the scent of damp earth overwhelming. And worst of all, there was an insatiable hunger clawing at their insides, a thirst that burned in their throat.

They staggered to their feet, disoriented, only to come face-to-face with Isaac.

He was livid.

“Pickle,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous as he approached, his eyes blazing with an intensity that made them shrink back. “What. Happened.”

The sight of him was both a relief and a terror. Relief, because he was Isaac, their Isaac, the man who had always kept them safe. Terror, because his expression was darker than they had ever seen.

“I—” Their voice cracked, their throat dry. The memory came rushing back in fragmented pieces: the pale man, the fangs, the pain. They touched their neck instinctively, feeling the faint ridges of healed puncture wounds.

Isaac’s jaw clenched as realization dawned on him. His hands balled into fists, and for a moment, he looked as though he might combust with rage. “I told you,” he hissed, his voice trembling with fury and anguish. “I told you not to go outside.”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen!” Pickle cried, tears streaming down their face.

Isaac’s anger faltered at the sight of their tears, replaced by a deep, gut-wrenching sorrow. He closed the distance between them, pulling them into his arms. His grip was firm, almost desperate, as though holding them tighter could undo what had been done.

“You don’t understand,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “You don’t know what you’ve been cursed with.”

Pickle clung to him, their tears soaking into his shirt. “I didn’t want this,” they whispered, their voice raw with guilt. “I didn’t—”

“I know,” Isaac interrupted, his voice softer now. “I know, my love.” He pulled back just enough to cradle their face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away their tears. “But this changes everything. Everything.”

The hunger clawed at them again, sharper this time, and they gasped, their hands clutching at Isaac’s arms.

He saw it—the flicker of crimson in their eyes, the pain etched into their features. He cursed under his breath, his expression shifting to one of grim determination. “You need to feed,” he said, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his eyes.

“I can’t,” Pickle whispered, shaking their head.

“You can,” Isaac said firmly, his hands tightening on their shoulders. “And you will. I won’t let you suffer.”

They stared at him, horror and desperation warring within them. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Isaac’s gaze softened, and for a moment, the fierceness in him gave way to a profound tenderness. “Then take from me,” he said, his voice low and resolute.

Pickle’s eyes widened. “Isaac, no—”

“Yes,” he said, cutting them off. “I would bleed dry before I let you starve.”

His words hit them like a tidal wave, the depth of his love and devotion leaving them breathless. Trembling, they nodded, their tears mingling with his as they leaned in.

Isaac tilted his head to the side, exposing his neck. “Do it,” he urged, his voice steady despite the rapid beat of his heart.

Pickle hesitated, the hunger and guilt warring within them. But when their lips brushed against his skin, the thirst took over, and they bit down.

Isaac hissed at the initial pain but didn’t pull away. His arms wrapped around them, holding them close as they drank, the connection between them deepening in a way neither had ever experienced.

When Pickle finally pulled back, their eyes filled with shame, Isaac cupped their face in his hands. “Look at me,” he commanded softly. “You’re mine, Pickle. Always. Nothing—not even this—will change that.”

His words were a vow, a promise that no matter how dark their world became, he would stand by them. And as the night stretched on, Isaac held them close, whispering words of comfort and love, vowing to protect them from the world—and from themselves.

P.S. Hey… hey, you! 🫵🏾 Do you want more Sakuverse gay shit? Hit that follow button and send in a request! You’ll get notifications whenever I post new fics or incorrect quotes or head canons and maybe even a chance to have your OC featured in a story.

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