#cod mw2 werewolf au
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bacon-sandwich-of-dionysus · 4 months ago
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Sorry that this blog has been collecting dust!
It'll get a spring clean soon, but right now, uni work has kicked up a notch, and I've discovered I've got a chronic pain condition that I'm waiting on treatment for a while now.
I am not giving up on my fic writing though! I'm just incredibly busy at the moment, but hopefully when life courteously gives me a second to breathe, I can muster the energy to keep writing.
I'm so sorry that Bloodhound has taken a seat at the backburners of backburners! That's the problem with huge workloads, they seldom give you the time and energy for you passion projects.
Anyways! I will giving this blog a much-needed resurrection when I can! Burnout has made me almost forget how much I love writing and going feral over media haha!
Lots of love to you all!
Bacon xxx
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docdudo · 6 months ago
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MASTERLIST
Here's a list to better organize the drafts i have written:
Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader
Parts In Order:
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
Part 13
Asks:
People Sizes
House Sizes
Nesting For Humans
Werewolves' Hands
Can They Reach Door Handles?
Human Babies - 1
Human Babies - 2
Reader Getting Sick
Life Expectancy
Home Alone
Who They Prefer?
Sharing Food
Their Kids
Hybrid Games
Playing On The Snow
Running Away
Hate Touch
Spicy Food
Service Hybrids
Oral Fixation
Broken Ankle
Ghost's mask
Flying with Gaz
Abusive House Hold
Their Kids - 2
Plushies and Preening
Periods
Mimicking Their Sounds
Familiar 141 - Young Witch!Reader
Parts In Order:
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Asks:
Familiar Sizes
Taunts
A Witch's Birth
Relationship Between Familiars And Witches
Do They Know How To Take Care Of Children?
Species
Death and Bonds
What Are Familiars?
What's Their Relationship Like?
Vampire 141 - Fledgling!Reader
Parts In Order:
Part 1
Asks:
Shock
Feeding
Venom
Fic Arts?
Foster child!reader with dad wraith!Ghost
Foster child!reader with dad wraith!Ghost (Black ver.)
Art On The Banner: @bluegiragi
Profile Picture: Me (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)
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notspiders · 1 year ago
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Oh, Honey! (Bumblebee! Reader x Monster! 141)
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General Warnings: Mostly fluff. Reader is female and is described as rather small and chubby. Reader is clumsy. Reader has a very large family. Characters may act out of character. Poor grammar is likely. Cussing. Part 1??? Note: Monster! 141 belongs to @bluegiragi
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Price watches you through the window.
Truthfully, he isn't sure how he and his team ended up here. One day they were being chased by a bloody team of zombies/cannon fodder, the next- he's laying on this extremely cozy bed (although it is a bit small) with his wounds nicely patched. Soap has gone hunting with the other women. Ghost is satisfied that they're all safe in this... rather massive cottage and has been snoring away in the next room for the past hour. Gaz has told him that he's going to just fly around and keep an eye out- just in case if the enemies somehow find themselves through the dense woods and into this clearing.
They really were lucky, Price thinks. According to you, the woods were a force themselves. Navigating through it, especially at night, is practically impossible. Compasses don't work. There's no signal and, of course, any type of aircraft just fail here. The woods are miles long and unless you packed enough supplies- it's suicide to dive back in and try to find your way out. It's just that sometimes the woods can help you, and sometimes the woods just gives you Mother Nature's middle finger and kills you. So there's that.
Naturally, the team was suspicious.
1) The explanation made no sense. 2) They were just outnumbered by a ton of enemies and to stumble upon this welcoming lot is... well, it's too good to be true, yeah? 3) You and your family are just way too happy. 3.1) There are no guys in your family. Your mother stated that men generally just wandered in, the family would treat them, and then they go away by themselves after a few nights. 3.2) Honestly, all of you look the same. Maybe there's like, a difference in hairstyles, body types, and obvious age gaps between the women here and there, but Jesus… Gaz has already made the mistake of confusing you, your cousins, your many sisters, and other random girls multiple times last night. 3.3) Scratch out the 'massive cottage' you guys claimed it to be. It's a mansion. Your 'family' is very large. There are many aunts, other women, cousins, other girls that were adopt into the family- Just no men. All living under the same roof and might as well be an army itself with how efficient you all did your tasks.
That said, it's very rude to point guns at innocent, clueless civilians. You, an adorably chubby, little bumblebee-hybrid (identifiable by the two rather pathetic buzzing wings behind your back), opened the door to them last night and stared blankly at their guns before cheerily ushering them in without freaking your head out. Next thing they knew, they got some quality homecooked meals cooked and served before them, plenty of drink (the honey mead everyone shared is excellent), proper treatment with their wounds (with... herbs), and warm beds. Ghost had stayed up the whole night and snooped around (just in case) but reported nothing interesting except for a few old hunting rifles and some overdue library books. Yes, each girl did carry a tiny foraging knife, but he's pretty certain they could still punt them like footballs ten at a time.
Morning comes- the team properly introduce themselves without being too specific of their occupation. There was a great deal of oohing and aahing as Price unfolded his one wing. His smoke did cause one girl to faint and her mother quickly asked for Price to... stop. He did his best and has, for now, stopped smoking his cigar. Everyone just steered clear from Ghost. Many children were petting Soap's head and playing with his fluffy tail, and others were stroking Gaz's wings.
Despite all the attention, Price's gaze is always on you. Maybe it was because of the fact that he's seen you first. You were just the cutest out of all of them. He wanted to whisk you away just to squish every soft part of your body and have you cuddled up beside him in his nest back home.
He's sorely disappointed to be told that he needs to return to bed so that his wounds can heal faster. No matter. The window gives him a very nice view of the clearing outside. Some girls are tending to the farm. Others are beekeeping. Plenty have gone to the outskirts of the forest to forage or hunt. Soap has offered to go out with the girls and they gladly accepted his help. (Tomorrow, he'll get off of this bed and join everyone too.)
Right now, you're picking the berries in your garden. It's amusing to watch you. Sometimes you bend over to pluck a few pretty flowers too- he's gotten a very nice view of your plump arse here and there. He's watched you buzz your small wings to just barely get a foot in the air and pluck an apple off the tree. Oh, how he wished to simply go out to lift you up himself... Your weight would be nothing to him.
From his observations, he's smartly deduced: Your body is round. Your little wings aren't designed for distance.
He loves the way you'd burrow your nose into any flower. Sometimes you remind him of Johnny's eagerness by the way you'd get a bit too enthusiastic and faceplant into the bed of flowers to take in the scent.
Price watches you get up, bump into your cousin (or is it sister? Or is this another girl? He couldn't be arsed), and the two of you collectively squeaked and apologized at the same time. Adorable. Fascinating. Beautiful. He hasn't felt this way ever since the time he xaight the glimpse of the shiny Excalibur in that stupid rock.
The lunch horn has been blown. He's been told that today's meal would be freshly baked bread and creamy chicken with wild rice soup. There’ll be tea and coffee for the drinks.
Price wishes his lunch would just be you.
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nathanwonderwolf · 10 months ago
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Bonus Keegan + Roach
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owlcomics101 · 1 year ago
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Werewolf task force 141 x human!reader Head cannons
Warnings: Some gore, Reader’s gender is neutral, sfw (I am a minor), wolf cuddles, some language
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Context: You are the only human on the task force 141. Lasswell put you on the team to balance out with all the bitting and snarling. Your practically their ‘babysitter’
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Soap: Trying to relax? Get a good night’s sleep? NOPE! Not with Soap around! Soap will drag your ass out of bed either very early in the morning or late at night to get you to go running in the woods with him. He loves racing you, chasing after you, or you trying to chase after him. His werewolf form is very playful with you and sees you as his playmate and will not leave you alone for the WHOLE night. Hes always gentle with you when he plays with you and if he ever accidentally hurts you in anyway he will always lick you to death as his wolf’s way of apologizing. Though, this does leave you completely covered in wolf slobber by the end of the night. Gross. Enjoy having a clingy Scottish wolf slobbering all over ya
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Ghost: Despite’s Ghost’s cold and aggressive demeanor towards you in his human form, his wolf form acts other wise. He’s not as clingy as Soap but he does make a point to follow you around base. He lets you do whatever you want throughout the night as long as you’re under his cared supervision. He hunts for you and even looks very smug and proud of himself with blood dripping from his jaws. You never really eat what he hunts for you or you at least cook it. When he watches you eat what he hunts for you can see his tail wag in the corner of your eyes. Clearly, happy you appreciate what he does for you and he’s even more happy when you share with him, but he doesn’t let you share with anyone else. Especially Soap. He’ll kill him.
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Gaz:
Gaz loves to sing to you throughout the night in his werewolf form. Howling his lungs out and waking up the whole Damm barracks as he expresses his love and devotion to you. The only way to get him to shut up is to howl with him. Or at least try to. Sometimes the others might join in on the howl but Gaz always tries his hardest to be the loudest so you’ll only pay attention to his ‘beautiful’ singing. Other than that he is the most chill out of all of them. He’ll let you sleep during the night after you hear his lovely singing and won’t drag you out of bed unlike the others. Just dont mention the word ‘Treats’ or ‘walkies’. He’ll snuggle up next to you and fight Ghost and Soap for the spot next to you. He loves a nice ear scratch from you and chews on his hat which is alway torn in the morning and he has to buy a new one.
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Price: Price is a patient wolf, he lets the others have their fun with you and then it’s his turn. His wolf form sees you as his pup and his alone. He’ll carry you around base by the ‘scruff’ or the back of your uniform. He doesn’t let you walk on your own. Price also hunts for you as well but he does not let the others eat until you have eaten first. He makes a point to give you ‘baths’ and by bath it means getting covered in old dog slobber. Sorry, you ain’t escaping it no matter how many times your shower. When you go to sleep he sleeps on top or you to keep you hidden under his fur, even if it’s suffocating to you. If you try to leave he will snap and snarl at you. Yeah. Your not escaping Price when he’s in ‘daddy wolf’ mode.
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crystalbeetle888 · 3 months ago
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Wild Heart Pt. Intro
141 x Wolf-Hybrid Reader After trying for many years to leave the mercenary life behind, an old friend comes back into your life to offer you piece of adventure, and possibly something more. Warnings- Mentions of Violence, Course Language Words- 1,496
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Master List Pt. Intro - Pt. 1
The rumbling sound of a car echoes throughout the valley. You can hear it miles before it breaks through the forest line. A black SUV with tinted out windows dives up the dirt road, dust clouds pooling behind it. You watch cautiously from the front porch, ears and eyes honing in on the unknown vehicle. You scrunch your nose at the pungent smell of diesel catching on the breeze. The car spins around on the road before stopping in front of the gate, built into the stone fence. Finally, the car door opens and a blonde woman steps out, “Kate” you sigh in relief. She waves her arm in a friendly gesture before making her way over across the long lawn. “You’re a hard person to find” She smiles warmly, “I did that deliberately” you reply shortly. The smell of human males on her causes you to anxiously watch the car for another to get out. “It’s just me for today,” She says, sensing your hesitation. Kate slowly walks up the steps to you before offering an open hand. You take it, and lower your head to sniff it. Smells of leather, coffee, toothpaste and floral deodorant are the strongest. But underneath all that, a musky smell stains her hands, likely from a handshake with a human male. The smell isn’t hard to miss, it’s often a sort of sweet woodsy smell with hints of spice. Usually the stench of harsh chemicals, deodorants, cologne, or cigarettes covers up their natural scent. 
You release her hand, convinced by her words “Come in then” you lead her inside, locking the door behind her. Kate sits at the dining room table whilst you enter the kitchen and prepare a cup of tea “I don’t suppose you're visiting me for a nice country holiday are you?” You put the kettle on and lean against the counter across from her. “Unfortunately no, I need to hire you for a job”.
You huff in frustration “You know I don’t do that kind of work anymore” “And you know I wouldn’t be asking if I had another choice”.
You sigh in annoyance “Just out of curiosity, I’m not committing to anything, but what’s the job?” Kate smiles, pulling out a yellow folder and placing it on the table, she opens it to reveal a series of photos “This is Viktor Petrov, he’s a part of a Russian terrorist organization operating out of Mount Pobeda. We have intel that he’s been developing bio-weapons and intends on distributing them to the highest bidder in a month's time at an black market auction in Tokyo. We need to intercept those weapons before they leave Russia and arrest Petrov.”
You scan over the photos of a tall blonde man enjoying himself at bars and strip clubs “Hardly the scientist type” you remark. “He’s ex-military, served eight years before becoming an entrepreneur” you hum in thought. “I still don’t understand why you’d need me” 
Kate sighs “My team and I have recently lost some of our trusted contacts and I know you’re familiar with the terrain” Kate pauses “It goes through Volt-Krov country and my men need an escort through the territory or else they won’t make it. I’m aware the local tribes-people aren’t too friendly with humans.” 
You purse your lips in thought and lean back in your chair, rubbing your face. “I don’t have anyone to take care of my animals whilst I’m gone” you deflect. 
Kate smiles knowingly “I can have someone come down tonight so you can show them the ropes, they’ll stay here as long as we need” 
You shake my head still unconvinced “I’ve done my time, paid my debt back to you”.
Kate nods in understanding, packing up her folder and standing “That’s alright, it’s always a pleasure talking to you” She places a card down on the table and you give her a tight lipped smile before escorting her towards the door, strangely the smell of satisfaction wafting by as she walks past you. “I’ll see you again soon” she calls out, waving goodbye as she leaves. You snorted in confusion ‘Why does the race of man always speak in riddles?’ You think, annoyed by her cryptic remark. Her car peels down the driveway raising up another dust storm. You shake your head and continue with your daily chores.
The night is crisp as you sit on your front porch with a hot chocolate and a cheeky little joint. You lay across the old leather couch, gazing out over the valley. The clear night sky twinkles and the lush grass sways in the gentle breeze. The moment is peaceful. Almost too peaceful. Your thoughts drift back to Kate and her offer, the itch for adventure slowly gnaws at your brain. You haven’t been off the farm properly in just over a year, let alone worked.
You audibly groan knowing that this urge won’t go away with time. With a reluctant huff you stand and make your way back inside. The card is black with only a number on it, your phone rings twice before she picks up “Decided to change your mind?” Kate asks.
“Yes… but this is my last job okay?” You state firmly. She hums “We’ll see about that, I’ll have someone there to pick you up and another to take care of your home at 0500 hours tomorrow. Pack for a long trip and get some rest, I’ll see you tomorrow night” She hangs up the phone before you can respond. 
After packing your suitcase with the essentials you flop onto your bed, your body buzzes with anticipation, unsure whether it’s from anxiety or excitement. You snuggle under the blanket and fall into a restless sleep. 
You wake from your slumber, your ears twitching at the sound of another car rumbling across the dirt road. The air is frigid, and the room dark. Sleep fogs your brain as you get dressed in a black tight ribbed tank top, no bra, loose boxers, and a pair loose cargo pants with a webbing slider belt. A loud knock sounds from the front door “Yeah coming!” You yell trudging through the house. Opening the door two women in army uniform stand there waiting “Come in” you welcome them. You can smell a nervous aroma coming from the two, even under the pungent aerosol deodorant. After showing Sam, who will be staying for the time being, the animals and house routines, You and Emma take your bag and bid her goodbye. Throwing your suitcase in the back you slide into the passenger seat of the sleek SUV “Get comfortable it’s going to be a long ride”.
Back at base, Kate debriefs the TF-141 on their newest arrival, and possible permanent teammate, if all things go well. Johnny, Kyle, Simon and John all sit around a table, the TV screen in front of them shows images of a large black wolf hybrid “This is the Hound, she is a retired mercenary with a long criminal record. She is currently en route to arrive here at 1800 hours. I want you all to be on your best behaviour, she’s not overly fond of humans let alone male ones, so don’t ask any stupid questions.” Kate looks towards Johnny who throws his hands up in defense “Why ya lookin at me?” Simon next to him shoves his shoulder “Cause you always spouting out some rightful shit.” 
Johnny gawks in disbelief “I do not” He argues back. Before either of them can continue bickering John interrupts “That’s enough” he barks gruffly, “I don’t like this Kate, the last thing we need is some untrained hybrid going off the rails” She nods at his concerns “That’s exactly why she’ll be living and training on base up until the mission. She needs to recognize you and your scents as a part of her pack, and we don’t have many other options for getting you through Russia safely.” 
“Won’t her presence just piss off the local wolves more?” Kyle asks. “No, fortunately the Volt-Krov have a predominantly male population, and they’ll generally leave females to their own business. Her larger size alone should be enough of a deterrent to the local males” 
“And if they don’t leave us alone” Simon asks. Kate changes the photos on the TV, images of the black wolf hybrid litter the screen. Her figure hunched over staring at the camera with bright golden eyes, prickled fur and gnashing teeth. Blood covering her matted coat, drips from her muzzle onto the stark white snow. The photos say more than enough, and Simon nods his head. “Those photos were taken three years ago when some hunters decided to trespass on her property” 
“Did she kill them?” John stares at the images, haunting eyes staring back. “She took an arm off one and a leg off another. She showed control and precision, she let them live”
John nods thoughtfully “Well, let’s hope we can use that”.
Master List Pt. Intro - Pt. 1
AN:let me know if you guys want more of this one cause I fully forgot about and won’t write more if no one’s interested. Much Love ❤️
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sunshowersanddandelionwine · 6 months ago
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au where the Riley family lives and simon gets into some Deep Shit™️ with some sort of group, whether it’s cartel or a terror org or what have you. And despite his and price’s and laswell’s best efforts, even the most privileged information eventually makes its way to the highest bidder. Which means that when this amorphous Group wants to hurt the ghost, they go after his most tender weak point.
They snatch Joseph Riley on his way home from school one day, and he’s terrified. He knows what his uncle does (vaguely and highly sanitized), enough for a kid his age to understand the gravity of the situation. So he has some idea of what’s about to happen.
Joseph doesn’t really have a good gauge on the passing of time, trapped in a dank, moldy cell in the ground with a single dirty window that doesn’t let in much light. The cuffs around his wrists are too tight, chafing against the thin skin. He’s hungry, thirsty, tired, but not scared. Okay, he’s a little scared but not as scared as he should probably be. Because he knows that come hell or high water, Uncle Simon is on his way.
That is, until the Group gets tired of waiting for Ghost to make a move and decide to send a message. They grab Joseph by the scruff and drag him out of the cell he’d memorized every inch of through the building. Joseph doesn’t know what’s happening, but whatever it is can’t be good.
And it isn’t. The door they come to is large, looks like it’s solid steel but with a weird sheen to it. There are claw marks digging into the frame and the ground. And a low, persistent growl echoes from behind the metal. Before Joseph can even think to speak, to beg for his life, one of the men unlocks the door, throws Joseph to the ground, and slams it shut behind him.
He falls in a crumpled heap, panting and coughing into the darkness around him. And then he freezes. Because the room is silent. The growl is gone. With the last bit of courage he has, he lifts his head from the dirty, iron-smelling floor and locks eyes with two bright blue irises glowing in the dark.
He’s heard stories of the wolves before, caught somewhere between man and monster. Some had come from Uncle Simon, some where rumors floated around school, some were just stories told to scare children. The stories all talked about the ferocious majesty of wolves, massive frames and thick fur and pearly white, razor sharp fangs.
This wolf is entirely unlike those stories. In the barely-there light leaking through the seam of the door, he can see just how bad the wolf is. His fur is ragged and hanging off his skeletal frame. Barely healed scars cut deep gouges into his face and flanks. And his eyes have no keen intelligence left, just base animal instinct. He’s watching Joseph silently, unmoving.
Joseph knows the wolf is starving, and he’s the unwilling lamb led to slaughter.
But the wolf doesn’t pounce. He inches forward, nosing gently at the bruises and scratches on Joseph’s face. He whines quietly when Joseph hisses from the movement. And he herds Joseph away from the door towards a tangled pile of dirty blankets and straw, curling around his shivering body with eyes pinned to the locked door.
Wolves are pack animals, and werewolves are no exception. When one werewolf soldier Sergeant MacTavish was drugged and captured, the Group thought they had themselves a mindless killing machine. They thought they could throw a child at a lonely, feral wolf and send the Ghost a gruesome message. They either didn’t know or didn’t care that pups, no matter the species, are precious to the pack. They gave Soap a pup, and he would protect that pup with his life.
(And when Ghost bursts into the cell not long after, blood soaked and wild eyed, he doesn’t expect to see his nephew, alive and relatively unharmed, with a massive guard dog curled around him. He doesn’t expect that guard dog to change back into a man. And he doesn’t expect that guard dog to stick around once he’s back on his feet, sticking to his side like he’s got no where better to be.)
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blingblong55 · 1 year ago
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Closer -John "Soap" MacTavish x F!Reader x Simon "Ghost" Riley NSFW
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Photo credit for that Ghost work to @ave661
Based on a request: I need smut on Werewolf!Soap and Vampire!Ghost, it keeps me alive and afloat 😔❤️ Closer by Nine Inch Nails A/N: Imagine riding Soap to this song as Ghost's fangs dig into your neck🫠. I mean, you can't convince me they don't have an orgy with this song in the background ---- F!Reader, 18+, MDNI, smut, monster!au, werewolf!Soap, vampire!Ghost, threesome, unprotected!sex, human!reader, dom!Soap, dom!Ghost, sub!reader, blood!play, pup!play/bondage, rough!sex ---- A/N: straight into it so I hope this meets your expectations…
You are straddling Soap's hips on the red velvet sheets that made the bed. Ghost's fangs dig into you as his fat and needy cock gets buried deep inside your tightness. Soap, watching from under you, hands behind his head as with amusement he holds the pink leash that holds your neck close to him.
They were right, a sweet and small little human like you wasn't ready for the punishment your strange neighbours had for you. Your tight and small hole getting fucked relentlessly by Ghost as Soap had you riding his girthy cock. Between praises and slaps you found yourself having your third orgasm of the evening. No one said that pleasing men with great stamina were easy but you can take it, can't you?
The dark walls, filled with old portraits and your soft body adorned the room. Cum leaked from your cunt and tight ass. Your mouth drooling from when Soap began to fill your mouth with his fist. Your tits bounce and occasionally slap on Soap's hard and hairy chest. Growls of excitement and hunger for more of this fuck dinner getting louder. Tears run down your face when the sharp dagger in Ghost's hand rips the thin fabric of your lacy bra. The blade made some blood run down, which only excited Ghost when he watched Soap's finger pick some of the crimson and make you lick his fingers clean.
If only they had told you earlier that they didn't need a good catholic slut to come and collect old Bibles but instead, that they wanted to corrupt your body, blood and those tasty holes of yours.
Blood drunk, that is what Ghost is as he filled your ass with more of his thick seed. Soap pulls on the leash, "Kiss me, slut," he grunts, his cock so deep inside of you that your wet cunt aches. Your lips meet his and his sharp teeth make your sweet mouth leak blood, this only makes Ghost feral.
Both men pounding into you. Their meaty cocks and balls are ready to just fill you up over and over until you learn to not go into strange homes.
Ghost takes hold of your neck, tilting it to the side to get more of that sweet and addicting blood you have.
Soap like the absolute beast he is begins to fight for dominance. Both men laugh as all you can do is control you, their submissive pet reminded of why she is kept alive. And you wouldn't complain, would you?
Ghost almost makes you pass out but before he can, Soap pushes him off, flips himself over and takes you from behind. His balls slapped against your aching cunt as you took his size so well. Just before he slaps that red face of yours, your pretty and tight hole gets stuffed and spread wide by his fat cock that leaks his creamy seed. Your moans and cries of pleasure mixed in with his growls and grunts.
Ghost watches this with amusement, he knows a good girl like you could take a size or two but not something remotely close to Soaps.
Finally, when they undo your wrist restraints and unleash you, both men massage your body. Whispering sweet praises for taking them so well and knowing that they were too pleased, they will certainly ask the priest to let you visit their home for some "prayers".
"Shh, it's okay, you did a good job," Ghost licks and kisses the blood from your body. "Yeah, you did so well for us, lass," Soap wipes the tears from your delicate face.
A/N: Short I know but...it's all my brain came up with
Tags:
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agoofyannoyancetolaw · 1 year ago
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Full moon
a/n: a goofy little headcannon post cuz I can’t sleep
minors DNI
Thinking about werewolf soap…
-Him following you around like a lost puppy with his tail wagging and hitting the walls of the base enough that anyone around can tell where you are at all times.
-Werewolf soap who helps you with every little task for praise, his ears perking up and humming along as he lifted your gear up into the drawers, feeling your hands hold him by the hips to steady him.
-werewolf soap who begs and pleads whenever he’s in heat for you to simply stay in his barrack and fuck him senseless, addicted to the feeling of your length against his tongue or inside his fluttering walls
-werewolf soap who will nip and bite and growl at anyone who gets close at you, and whimpers when you pull his tail as a warning to stop it
-werewolf soap who always goes absolutely cock-drunk whenever you buck into him, as if your claiming him. His pupils wide and his eyes unfocused as he speaks in garbled moans and broken sentences
-werewolf soap who steals any clothes from you that he can, and any jewelry too. He loves the smell of you and the feeling of you enveloping him even when you’re not around. So him wearing your boxers and hoodies and about anything is common
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bacon-sandwich-of-dionysus · 11 months ago
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Officially Getting Back on the Bloodhound Bandwagon!
Okay! So, exam season is finally over along with uni in general which means I finally have free time! Yippee!
A lot has happened again because apparently the 'Ao3 Curse' is real and life just likes throwing bizarre events at me- I'm still recovering from a situationship that absolutely crashed and burned and has strangely left me traumatised (a part of me feels like it shouldn't but it has unfortunately).
Sadness aside, some good has come out of it! I've finished exams, catching up on sleep and been on some wonderful dates with a new guy who we'll call 'M a n' lol.
Anyways, back to Bloodhound.
As previously stated, we have a playlist! Yippee! I'll be listening to this while getting on with Chapter 10 >:).
Bacon is finally back on their bullshit!
Below the cut is stupid meme I've cooked up but it does allude to spoilers for C.10.
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*POV: You're Phillip Graves. You're about to turn into a werewolf in less than 24 hours, and no one has told you what to do about it.*
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docdudo · 3 months ago
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Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 13)
Goddammit, you never felt this small before. Sure, all hybrids are twice or thrice your size, but why do you feel this way only now that you were standing in front of Johnny's kneeled down form?
He was kneeling down. Kneeling down. And was still bigger than you standing up.
He was large too. All of them were, really. Men as buff as them naturally had large bodies—it was impossible not to notice that their arms were as thick as your torso.
So....
How exactly were you supposed to fight with him?
It's a play fight, just a play fight, but still, you didn't know what to do. This was insane, how could someone like you fight with a werewolf his size...? And he wanted you to "mess him up"??
You should've suggest playing UNO instead, this is torture.
"Mhm.... I-I... dunno what to do...?" You mumble, uncertain. Your eyes flick to his form—the way excitement buzzes through him, his tail wagging fast behind him, ears pressed flat against his head. His toothy smile never wavering.
Big canines too, bigger than Ghost's.
"It's easy, lassie." He cooed, voice more controlled and calmer than what his body language was showing. "Come on, ya trust papa, right? Papa will never hurt ye."
"I don't know how to fight...." You insist, frowning a little in worry, still shuffling quietly in front of him.
“Don’ have tae. Wha’ does a wee pup ken?” He snickers, rolling his eyes as his accent gets stronger out of nowhere. “Ah just like ma kids messin’ me up! Ye can bite, scratch, or anythin’ else, really. Ah can take anythin’, ye wee runt!”
You hesitate, still looking over his form in worry and confusion. You didn't even move from your position, just holding onto your hoodie as you rubbed your socked feet with each other.
Johnny’s excited, competitive demeanor softened a bit as he sized you up, his tail wagging less and his ears perking up again.
“C’mere, puppy, c’mere… pstpst, it’s alrigh’…” He cooed gently, beckoning you closer with a small hand gesture. “Come tae papa, he’ll teach ye everythin’, aye?”
You blushed in embarrassment at his attitude, letting out a quiet sigh as you approached, still clutching the sleeves of your hoodie.
He immediately flashed you a big, toothy grin—sincere, yet still intimidating. His dangerous demeanor remained as scary as ever. Honestly? He looked kinda insane.
And then—
Big hands grabbed you, making you gasp in surprise as he took you down onto the mat. Technically, he just kinda grabbed you and eased you onto your back, but still—you weren’t expecting it! It was fast.
“Down ye go.” He smiled in a terrifying mix of gentleness and smugness. “Now what, wee bonnie baby?” His tone was pure challenge.
You stared up at him with wide eyes, frozen for a few seconds. His big palm rested gently on your chest, fingers spread just enough to frame your neck as he held both your shoulders down with one hand, caging you in. His feral eyes and sharp grin never wavered as he loomed over you, kneeling like a true predator.
You breathed in shakily at the thought, both small hands coming up to grasp his wrist, trying to gently push his hand away. Your legs curling up close to your chest.
“Don’ let him pin ya down.”
Ghost’s voice immediately caught your attention, making you turn your head on the mat to glance at him sideways on the edge of the mat. He stood with his arms crossed and a serious expression on his face, watching closely.
“Aye, runt, why’re ye lettin’ me pin ye down?” Soap teased again, one of his fingers gently rubbing your cheek from where he held you against the mat.
You bit your lip at the provocation, anxiety creeping back in. You pushed with a bit more force, trying to make his hand move, but weakened your grip when he laughed mockingly, leaning his head down dangerously close to yours.
“Look at this… nae claws at all, such cute wee fingers… trimmed nails and all, eh, wee baby? Price was talkin’ ‘bout ye humans… how we’ve gotta keep ye groomed right—short nails on hands an’ feet, brushed wee teeth, and trimmed hair… are all humans frail wee thingies like ye, runt?” He snickered, a broad, teasing smile stretched across his face.
"Big talk for a dirty mutt." Ghost joined in, voice low and raspy as he steaped on the mat, feet covered in black socks.
You immediately tensed up in worry at his tone, eyes widening as your body locked up. It sounded harsh, and for a moment, you genuinely feared they might start arguing right then and there.
But...
Johnny just laughed it off, his smile still wide, his hand still pressing you down against the mat as he kept an eye on Simon entering the mat from his peripheral vision.
“Are ye gonna get in the way, Si?” Soap asked menacingly, tilting his head slightly, baring his teeth at the other man.
“No. I don’t plan on fightin’ ya. I’m here for the kid.” he answered simply, dropping heavily to his knees by your side. "Come on, fledgling. His fingers are wide spread, tuck your hands under them."
You blinked up at him, stunned for a few seconds, before quickly glancing back at Johnny’s hand. Letting go of his wrist, you forced your hands under his fingers, slowly but surely lifting it off your shoulders and chest.
Sure, Johnny wasn’t putting much strength behind it, and he was still cooing at you the whole time, but you managed to take his hand off of you, only for Simon to roughly shove Johnny down onto the mat.
“Hey!” Soap laughed, falling onto his back, his elbows holding his body up.
"Go, up, come on." Simon nudged you, pushing your sitted form in Johnny's direction gently.
You got to your feet, slightly unsteady, feeling the gentle push of his hand that made you tumble on top of Soap, who was just staring at you with a smile.
“Hurt him. Go for his neck.” Ghost instructed, arms crossed as he watched you both.
“Wi’ these wee hands?” Soap cooed mockingly, his hand coming up to gently grab yours and rub with his thumb.
Ghost sighed quietly at your lack of reaction, watching you sit on top of Soap’s waist, your hand held in his, looking uncertain. Truly, zero instincts with this one.
“Gaz was right… it really does feel like when we had only newborns.” Soap laughed quietly, messing slightly with your hand, moving it around. “Ah used tae put them on ma chest for tummy time, too.”
You frowned slightly in confusion at that, head tilting slightly to the side.
"What's that...?"
“Oh, it’s—Ah mean…”
Even though Johnny was still smiling, he frowned a bit too, apparently caught off guard by your question. Or at least, that’s what it looked like. For a moment, it even seemed like pity crossed his face too.
“It’s when ye put babies on a soft surface, belly to the ground, and leave ‘em there. Helps ‘em strengthen their bodies so they can start crawling later on,” Ghost explained calmly, pushing you up slightly higher against Soap. “Now, come on, try to hurt him. He can take it.”
You still hesitated at that, unsure about actually trying to hurt one of your foster parents. Still, you sighed quietly before grabbing the hand that was holding yours and pushing against Johnny's face, hearing him laugh.
"Yeah, that's not going to do much." Ghost commented dryly.
Before you could say anything else, you let out a small, surprised yelp as Soap suddenly switched places with you, grabbing your small body effortlessly and getting on top of you once again, big grin still plastered on his stupid smiling face.
This time, at least, you managed to place your feet against his chest, pushing him slightly away from your body.
"Ya ken, Price's always liked a rough fight," Soap chuckled, a smug smile on his face as his big hand wrapped around your calf. "Me too, o' course, but he's even more violent than me, if ye believe it. Big bastard roughed up everyone as a soldier, an' let all the kids rough him up right back as a parent. He loves it."
"To be fair, most of us do." Ghost nodded from his place on the mat.
"But how does a wee thing like ye plan to do it if ye dinnae even try?"
At that, your leg was quickly pulled back, your body dragged across the mat as you let out a small shriek, only to immediately laugh right after when Soap stopped pulling you by the leg.
Actually, you were so busy giggling in a mix of surprise and excitement that you didn’t notice Johnny and Simon looking at you with surprise and contentment. It took them a bit, but they finally managed to make you actually laugh.
And what a cute laugh you had.
"Guys, come on up, Price still wants to check if her cold's gone away and watch a movie!" Kyle called out from the stairs, smiling gently at the scene.
"Heard that, lass? Hope ye like cartoons, ‘cause we love ‘em!" Johnny smiled excitedly, helping you up onto your little feet.
"I actually developed a liking for them after bein' forced to watch thousands of different ones as our kids grew up," Ghost commented, tilting his head slightly to the side. "Coco's very nice. Would ya like to see it, kid?"
"I'm... not sure...." You mumble, not recognizing the name.
"Yer gonna love it, lassie! Ah guarantee!"
Part 12 /
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madamecaos · 1 year ago
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The Howling
AU Werewolf Mafia: F|Reader x AU Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley
Synopsis: You move to a new town and the people there are just... strange.
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Warning: 18+ Mature in next chapters, Lil Gore, Mate-Trope, Alpha-Omega trope, Angst, Overall Violence and Dark Themes
A/N: This is me, avoiding my other WIPs so I can pantsy-through another story that I'm not sure how to plot. Well, I couldn’t decide between Werewolves or Mafia AU, so here’s both.
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It was known.
The first night of a full moon after Winter Solstice, every citizen of the little town had to bar their doors, stay inside and hope that sunrise received them unscathed. Otherwise, the victims of little Arcadea wouldn’t come to save you from the mauling beasts. Everyone knew you weren’t meant to go outside.
If only you had known that beasts also lurked in the daylight.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
You were new in town. The aftermath of a bad relationship and a great offer of a remote position gave you freedom enough to move to a new place. As long as you had Wi-Fi, you could work. When the opportunity arose in a niche little town, away from the city and surrounded by a sea of woodland, you took it. Anything to place miles and miles between you and your psychotic ex was a great offer.
A ride an hour away from the city was an improvement. Anything was.
But despite the cute little cafes and the upcoming Christmas festivities, the town didn’t receive you with open arms. The locals weren’t gracious to newcomers, so you did everything possible to not intrude.
That’s why you found yourself hiding in the little library, staking claim of your little corner with a watered-down coffee between your hands. It was lukewarm, but enough to stave away the chilling breeze coming from the open doors. Aside from the fact that this was the only place with decent Wi-Fi, it was comfortable and quiet.
Kate, the local librarian, could be heard chatting away as the truck backed up near the entrance. Tuesday meant that new books were coming in. And Tuesday meant that the delivery guy would burst your quiet bubble any second now.
You hadn’t been here a full month and you already felt like you knew too much about him.
Soap was chatty and had a smile too wide that didn’t match your grumpiness. And what kind of name was Soap?
Without looking up, you heard his footsteps. You imagined that he skipped your way, going by the obnoxious clatter of his keys and whatever else he had in his pockets.
Maybe you needed more caffeine to be nicer, you thought as your temples pulsed with an upcoming headache. It was something inexplicable, but whenever Soap came near your instincts went haywire. The urge to be defensive and argumentative rose within you like a second nature.
“New Lass,” he called you, almost cheering. You rolled your eyes at the nickname he donned you with as you refused to give him your name. It seemed that you acting wary of men made him think he had to try and get on your good side, the tough way, by being annoyingly too cheery. To add to your annoyance, your reactions only incited him more.
“Got ya’ more books. Want to see the new batch?” He asked too loudly with excitement, and you winced. “Oh, my bad. Inside voice.” He half-apologized, shrugging with a smile still plastered on his annoying features.
You were just… annoyed.
You took in his outfit. His usual black overall was replaced by dark jeans and a light jacket. Even his mohawk was not covered by the usual beanie, which prompted you to ask him something finally. “Going on a vacation?”
His clothing was not meant for the blistering cold outside.
“Wow,” Soap placed a hand over his heart dramatically. “Oh, New Lass. I thought you were mute.”
“Selective,” you answered shortly, then looked down to pretend to write an email. You hoped he took the hint but going by the lack of screeching chair at his usual loud departure, he was still sitting in front of you.
His shoulders shook in silent laughter, and you questioned him with merely a risen eyebrow. “You would get along with my boss. You two would be a party.”
At your frown, he explained, “Silent and grumpy.”
“Soap!” Someone called from the entrance, allowing you peace as he walked away with a wave. What an odd man.
“See ya, New Lass.” Without turning back, he answered just as gruffly to the person that had demanded his attention, an attitude he had never directed at you despite your unwelcoming brashness. You couldn’t hear the rest, them being too far away.
Peace and quiet drove away the turmoil that usually came along with Soap’s presence, but your temples still pulsed with a surging headache.
“20 years less and I would,” Kate sighed as she closed the door with a click, looking through the glass doors as the truck drove away. Finally, warmth permeated the library again.
“Would what?” You asked and Kate looked at you like you were dense. Well, you kind of were.
“I don’t go for the young ones, but maybe Soap can be an exception,” As realization dawned at what she implied, Kate held in her amusement behind her titivating grin.
“Aren’t you married?”
“Like that has to do anything with it,” Kate rolled her eyes playfully and you ignored the uncomfortable thought of loyalty being so casually dismissed. Again, another reaction you had to thank your ex.  “And you? No man back home that calls you lass?”
The wiggle in her eyebrows brought you a little out of your dark cloud. “No, no man for me.”
You went back to your screen, ignoring the understanding look from Kate.
“Ah, we all came to Arcadea to escape from something,” she said, salvaging what little conversation you had with her. You weren’t exactly social, and amongst the locals, she was the most welcoming one. But that all made sense when she mentioned she was a foreigner as well, married her husband and was brought to the little town where she founded her dream little bookshop.
That might explain the why and how the place stood afloat, seeing as you were the only customer you had seen inside. What you didn’t have a theory for was the mysterious merchandise of books she received weekly, and yet the contents of the library hadn’t changed once.
Soap looked nice and approachable, but the gruffness, tattoos and bulking arms convinced you that it was not smart to ask. The curling instinct you had adopted from the big city told you he was not merely a delivery boy. But it was none of your business, or so you repeated to yourself every time something odd happened in little Arcadea.
And it was a lot.
“You ok there, love?” Kate asked as you stared ahead, lost in thought.
“I think I’m clocking out early,” You stretched in your chair, closing the laptop. “This migraine calls for a long nap.”
“All right, hope you feel better!” Kate called out as you made your way to the exit. Until she left you with a parting advice.
“Oh, and y/n” She started, the lack of endearment calling for your attention. You turned, expecting the common cheery demeanor one can expect from Kate. Instead, the hardened glance made you freeze. The grim expression seamlessly bleeding away the woman you had been getting to know these past few weeks. This was a stranger standing in front of you. “Don’t go out tonight.”
Without any chance of asking for an explanation, the happy demeanor returned, and Kate left you gaping at the entrance as she hummed away to the back of the store.
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She surely had meant ‘go out’ as ‘hang out’, right? You weren’t exactly friendly with the locals yet, only a few.  Kate was paranoid and you were starving. And it was Tuesday. Nothing happened on Tuesdays.
After sleeping away the headache for what felt like days, you woke up parched and ready to eat a whole three course meal. The migraine had ceased enough for you to see without flinching at every little light, but you knew that if you didn’t eat soon, it would worsen. So still in pijamas, with fuzzy boots and a big hoodie to complete the look, you went out into the cold with your phone, cash and your keys.
The diner across the block closed late, at least late enough for you to eat. And if it fit the mood, you might aim for a milkshake, you thought as you headed into the center of the town.
As you walked, you hugged yourself to stave away the breeze weaving through the trees. The woodland was so close to the town you could hear the leaves moving, its hushing billowing out through the deserted streets.
The cold painted your breath in huffs, your distance to the diner decreasing. But as you kept your pace, you couldn’t help but recognize the unusual solace of the roads. They were devoid of life, vendors already settled down for the night. 
Your footsteps on gravel were the only sounds disrupting the silence, but even without any more sounds, the eerie feeling of someone staring at you made you walk faster.
Nothing could’ve told you someone was staring at you but your intuition, your paranoia getting the best of you. You snapped your head back, hoping that your fear was only induced by the darkness. The weathered headlamps were enough to let you confirm that you were wrong. No one was there, no shadows followed you. With nothing to show for, you kept walking, pace hurrying nonetheless.
The bell on the door charmed at your entrance. It was quiet, oddly so. You were often received by the boisterous waitress that covered the nightshift. She made the best lattes and made you laugh, getting you away from your shy nature.
All worn booths were empty as you sat in your preferred corner, read the menu that you’ve read a thousand times before, and looked around. It was odd that you hadn’t seen nor heard the waitress yet.
The restaurant looked empty, abandoned even. So with courage, you stood up and sat at the bar, ringing the bell for service. Right now, you would do anything for crumbs.
“Hi, dear,” the waitress whose name tag read as Darla, gave you a hurried smile. “I’m sorry, but we’re closing early today.”
“Please,” Yes, you resorted to begging. “I’m starving. Just the usual.”
“I-“ she stuttered. “The kitchen is already closed. The cook clocked out early.”
At the last word, the entrance bell chimed behind you, making you turn curiously. You felt the breeze, you heard the bell and you heard the door closing… but there was no one there. All tables were as empty when you arrived.
You turned back to face the waitress. The question in your lips stopped mid track at her expression. Her dark complexion had gone white, eyes wide eyed and petrified.
“Make the girl a plate.”
A low rumbling voice said from behind you, and you saw fear bleed into Darla’s expression.
You looked back immediately to your right, your gaze clashing with broad shoulders first, biceps bulging beneath a tight fitted black shirt. It seemed as if his height went on and on as your head tilted upwards, taking in the broadness of the looming man dressed as walking death.
Dark eyes beneath a skull mask perilously studied you. His stare unflinching, unmoving, as your heart made its way to your throat with fear… and something else. Something odd and uncanny made the hairs on the back of your neck rise. The sensation of someone chasing you confused you. You were sitting still, and he hadn’t made himself an obvious threat, despite the oddity of his mask in the middle of a local dinner.  Your mind spun at the lack of sense, your heart wildly beating, pinned beneath his stare. While petrified on the stool, your body slowly but surely felt heat rise, perspiration building along your temples as if you had already ran a mile.
That damned migraine came back tenfold, and you still sat there, looking up like a deer in headlights, eyes threatening to scrunch at the buzzing lights. If you were to look away first, he would take it as you submitting to whatever fear was taking ahold of you. You kept silent, holding in your gasps of air. 
What is this? Who was he?
Somehow, he had walked behind you so silently and so fast, you hadn’t seen him enter. He had crossed half the diner in seconds, landing at the opposite side of you. Something you wanted to believe was impossible, but here he was.
He was the first to break eye contact, allowing air into your lungs. All the odd warming sensations stopped at his departure. Without a glance back, he entered the kitchen then pivoted to the exit door, Darla moving away to give him a wide berth of space.
“New cook?” You joked timidly, trying to break the tension of the now fretting waitress. Metal spoons and pans clattered as she filled a foam container with whatever she could find. Her hands shook.
“Go,” Darla whispered with a pointed look, handing you a bag with whatever lukewarm food. At your hesitation to leave her alone, she pushed it to your chest, then motioned you to the door. 
“I can pay-“
Darla side stepped the counter, hands on your shoulders pivoting you to the exit.
“It’s on the house. Now, don’t do anything stupid and stay inside.”
With that, the door clicked hurriedly behind you, not allowing you to turn and ask the million questions you had for her.
You were at odds with yourself as you stared at your dark reflection on the glass door. 
On one hand, you wanted peace. It was the main reason you came to this town for, and asking the right or wrong questions often led you into more problems. But on the other hand, a huge man with a skull mask with an in-defensive woman didn’t bode well. And the panic in her eyes made you repeat the interaction over and over again. 
Darla shut off the lights as she went back to the kitchen, leaving you standing at the closed entrance of the now dark restaurant.
You debated if it was worth it calling the police, or if that fell under the list of what Darla deemed as something stupid.
Holding the bag to yourself as you walked back to your apartment in a hurry, you ignored Darla’s warnings. You’d rather bet on the ‘stupid’ but safe option and put in an anonymous tip. The receiver sounded bored, nonchalant even, not caring that a woman was alone in her job with a strange man. The interaction didn’t go as planned, especially when the person you spoke with treated you as if you were insane and not something to believe. The conversation turned oddly quiet when they asked you to describe the man, the mention of a ‘skull mask’ twisting their questions into more personal ones.
Who are you? What’s your name? What’s your place of residence?
 You hung up.
You did what you could, right? At least Darla’s danger won’t fully fall into your consciousness, you tried to convince yourself.
But the interaction interrupted whatever you thought of doing that night. You couldn’t concentrate. There was something off-putting that insisted that you had to go back there, but you were astute enough to know that it wasn’t a safe route. As an outlet, you called the restaurant several times, hoping that the internet’s spotty phone number was a true one. No answer. Maybe… just maybe if you saw if Darla was ok, you could rest. Then after assuring her safety, you would be relaxed enough to go back to your own business and hide in your apartment once again. After scarfing down the lukewarm food and pacing over the options, you did something else Darla had mentioned, something she had warned against.
With keys between your knuckles and pepper spray in your pocket, you went back outside. You just wanted to see that Darla wasn’t hurt. One glance and you were out.
This was the moment in horror movies when one would demean the main character for doing something so obviously stupid, you thought as you shivered with adrenaline and uncertainty.
The streets were just as empty as the restaurant, a full moon at its peak providing most light.  The pavement was so dark its reflection bathed the street in white.
As you neared, you slowed your pace and approached cautiously.  You shook the doors by the handles, but they were already locked. That much you already knew… but you’ve seen the odd man going out the other exit.
Cautiously, you tiptoed to the right corner and came around, peeking into the darkness to scope the back of the establishment. This is surely the way you’ll die, you thought with a tight grip of your keys as you rounded the wall. And at the turn, you clashed into something warm, so warm that the hands grasping you back to a wide chest could be felt through all your layers of clothing.
It was almost as if he had materialized from the shadows. Even with whatever minor moonlight shone through, it was not dark enough for you to be completely blind. You should’ve seen him coming.
You pushed the person back with all your strength, but they did nothing but chuckle, still too near for your comfort. At the sound and the familiarity of the creeping sensation crawling up your neck, you relaxed a little.
“Oh lass, I didn’t think it was like that,” Soap goaded, holding you close. “Only one word today and you’re already throwing yourself at me.”
“Get off me,” you shook your arms as you looked around him, behind him. At least, tried to, but he annoyingly planted himself in your line of sight, prohibiting you from searching for another sign of life.
“Hey, attention on me, yeah?” Soap stood closer, presence prompting you back to his attention.
“What are you doing here?” You questioned him, gaze still looking around you. “Where’s Darla?”
“Whose Darla?” Soap mused as he walked forward, forcing you to take steps back. “And I could ask the same.”
“I’m hungry,” you answered quickly, knowing that would be the first excuse you would use if the waitress asked for your intentions by disobeying her warning.
“Something told me you ate,” Soap said as he pointed with a look the red stain on your hoodie. He leaned closer and inhaled. You leaned back and ignored the odd gesture. “Pasta, to be exact.”
“Well, I’m still hungry.”
Seconds passed, and gloom dimmed his grin.
“Ah,” Soap sighed, disappointed. “So you’re the one that called the police.”
You froze, fear chilling the back of your neck. How did he know that? Nervous sweat and an accelerating heart with wide eyes took over you. Annoying Soap wasn’t acting like a child prying for your attention anymore. The seriousness and the slow tilt of his head made him seem as a complete stranger, much like Kate had been.
Had she known the danger of the delivery boy? Was she in on whatever was going on?  
“Oh? Did the police come by?” You asked, thinking that it would be best not to admit anything. “Why would they need to come here?”
Soap’s lips tilted, and not in the amusement you’d been accustomed to. At your struggle to swallow, his sight slowly landed on your throat. His gaze leisurely angled up to your eyes, moonlight catching oddly on his irises.
“Hm,” he took his index finger to his chin, musing into the air mockingly. “What to do with you now.”
He looked down on you, as if he was holding a secret you didn’t know. Deliberating… In a sudden flash, he was beside you, arm around your shoulders back pushing you forward. His proximity jolted you, your temples resurging the headache from earlier.
“Come, It’s time you to meet the boys,” He offered, not leaving you another option.
“What boys? I don’t think this is a good idea. I’m leaving now.” You tried to turn back, but the both of you had already walked to the back where you supposed the dumpsters were.
“This is not a good idea, so I’m leav-“ You tried to say again, but it was too late.
“Look what I found,” Soap said loudly. As you rounded the corner, you blinked at the dim light, the backlight providing enough for you to make out three silhouettes and… maybe a dog in the back? They all looked big, all broad as Soap, but Soap lacked what they had in height.  
The same man that had interrupted you earlier stood the furthest, his imposing shadow drawing perturbing darkness over the bricked wall, swallowing whatever light the moon provided. You could make out his form through the darkness. He was unfazed, unmoving, unlike his counterparts.
His untiring glare pinned you in place again, imposing itself in front of the prowling dusk-like silhouette bleeding away at the corner of your eye.
“What have you done?” One of the other men questioned with despair, genuinely worried at your presence petrified beside Soap. With a hand movement, the motion-sensor light activated, bathing the strangers with a harsh truth, immediately providing you with the information you were lacking. Now you understood Darla’s fear, its sight leaving you breathless.
The man in the skull mask was accompanied by other two, all just as bulky and threatening. The man perturbed at your presence was dressed in casual black just as Soap, the other one dressed in a police uniform. The golden badge caught in the light as the man stood taller, preparing for action, as if to chase you when you imminently ran away.
But your gaze couldn’t really focus on anything else except the dead body laying between them, all men surrounding the corpse. A pool of blood gushed from the cook’s torn neck, a chunk of it missing. You didn’t really know him… had known him.
He had been rude and standoffish, much like the rest of the citizens of the little town, but you really hadn’t seen any action that prompted for death, and a bloody one at that. But again, not knowing much about anyone had led you to this moment, prying for the safety of a stranger.
And now someone was dead, and you might be next. They all stared at you, at your rising panic.
“I didn’t think you would kill him so quickly,” Soap said nonchalantly, and your heart pounded itself into your throat, crawling upwards through your ribcage, preventing you from screaming. He voiced it so casually, as if this was his norm. “And besides, she’s the one that ratted us out.” 
You felt the burn of Soap’s gaze on your profile, his arm around your arm confining. Suffocating.
“Brave for someone so little.”
The one in the police uniform stepped forward slowly, stern look at odds with the amusement in his voice. He might have seemed the oldest with the light mutton chop-beard, or at least the leader, going by the respect in Soap’s expression. As he got nearer, you felt Soap stand straighter. If he was someone Soap respected, he was someone you were to fear. That much you knew.
Their accents were not much like your own.
Your eyes jumped frantically from the body to him, the Sheriff badge pinned to his uniform catching in the light again, giving away his job position. Even with the threat imminently approaching, you also watched around him. The other stranger and the skull mask staring back at you were not forgotten. Too many threats you had to watch out for, you thought as you searched for an exit, for a way to drive away the attention from you.
“Don’t touch me,” You furiously shook Soap’s arm, ducking away, the lack of warmth reminding you of how actually cold it was. Your hurried breaths came out in puffing mist, truly showing them how scared you were. The fingers tightly curled around your keys were wait, fully prepared to drive jam your only weapon into someone’s throat, even if it did nothing but distract. You were determined to die fighting.
As if knowing your intentions, your eyes returned to the man you had briefly met before at his amused huff, the black of his skull mask camouflaging with the darkness behind him. It was almost like you couldn’t help but stare back at death.
Despite being the one standing the farthest away, too still for him to seem preoccupied at your actions, you knew subconsciously he was the biggest threat of them all.
“Hm, pup has teeth,” the Sheriff mused as he frowned, annoyance in his face aimed at Soap.
“And the other one is a yapper,” the one with the skull camouflage retorted, comment aimed at Soap too, his voice again sounding like a grumble in your ears, as if was too low of a sound for you to register.
Instinctively you minutely winced, adrenaline making your pulse jump.
The Sherrif’s ever studying gaze caught the movement, frown turning menacing. “That seems like a problem.”
You waited for him to pounce, to cut your throat as they had done to the one that cooked the best burgers in town. Or at least, for him to command you to start digging your own grave.
Seconds went by and the breeze picked up momentarily. Only the lulling shush of the billowing leaves was heard. You shivered as it hit the back of your neck, flying some of your loose baby hairs to your cheeks.
You wanted to think you were delirious. No matter how subtle the rise of his shoulders, you could tell when he inhaled. As did the others, simultaneously.
The threatening nature of the leader flattened to a blank expression, but his eyes, unmoving from your features, were as intense as your ongoing rising panic. You understood immediate violence, already bracing for whatever they had planned from the moment you saw them. What you didn’t understand was the realization dawning on the other two at the back, nor the proud stance in Soap.
But the Sheriff raised his hands in a placating manner and took a few steps back, submissive, expression now beseeching you to not fear him. The shift in attitude had you gripping your keys between your knuckles harder, thinking it was another tactic to lower your inhibitions.
“Impossible,” the unmasked one at the back whispered, eyes wide in disbelief.
“She’s had a headache for days now,” Soap added the much unnecessary comment. You glared, realizing that he had been observing you too closely, Kate probably spying for him. She was the only one that knew about the headaches.
“Grumpier each time I come near,” Soap added, almost tenderly. At your glare, he grinned. “See?”
“What? Can you shut up?” You sneered, taking more steps back, them allowing it. Almost feeling violated at the fact that you never had any privacy, anger interlaced itself with your never-ending fear. Your shifting mood wouldn’t now stab Soap in fear, but in rage at his grating voice.
“Easy there.”
The one with the mask hummed at the bite in your tone. That rumbling sound again drove your gaze to his like a moth to flame. It was sorely a reminder of your precarious situation, a gravely dangerous one.
You have been here before, trapped with a man that wanted to hurt you, you thought. You thought you escaped from that, that Arcadea was your way out. But as Soap stood near, you realized it was lie, and you might never come back alive this time. Four men and one woman didn’t bode well for other reasons too; you weren’t a stranger to the sins against your flesh either.
“You should smell her,” Soap finally said, humming with pride, not understanding how unsettling it was for you to hear. The creepiness in the comment made you forget about your anger momentarily, your eyes catching the lifeless ones of the cook. Slowly, your gaze drifted upwards, until it landed on now luminescent eyes behind a mask, moonlight reflecting oddly. Even through it, you noticed the harsh frown aimed at you. It spelled danger, and that was enough for you to bolt.
“Soap!”
You pivoted and ran, but just as quickly, you stopped and skidded on pavement. The adrenaline didn’t allow you to feel the shock of you landing on your behind, your hands taking the brunt of the impact as you stared upwards wide-eyed.
There was nowhere to go, and there was no way you could run away from it.
A hulking figure bled from the shadows, rising at its hunches. Snarling teeth, each one the size of your forearm, salivated in a snarling smile. A wolf the size of a two-story house stood amidst the night, hiding the high full moon behind it, taking the sight of your exits with him.
A hand caught you by the back of the hoodie as you crawled back, pulling you up.
“Breathe, lass,” Soap instructed in what he thought was a comforting way, but his grasp along the sight of the nearing beast turned your stomach. “You’re ok.”
“No, Soap!”
Before he could heed his boss’s warnings, Soap’s hand grasped the back of your neck gently. It was the first time he made skin to skin contact, and what a mistake that was.
 Electricity cursed through you painfully and you screeched. It started from the top of your neck then down to your lower back, blinding agony crawling like a shiver down your spine. You fell to your knees, bone clacking with the floor loudly.
“You NEVER touch a dormant, much less her!” The Sheriff ran to your aid, hands hovering yet not daring to touch your shivering form. Something was strangling you from the back, your fingers clawing your throat and the nape of your neck where Soap touched you as you gasped for air.
The daring Sherriff finally grasped your wrists over your sweater, avoiding skin,  preventing you from hurting yourself.
“Breathe through it, love,” he encouraged, hiding away the panic in his voice.
Soap jumped away from you at your scream, looking at his hand blamed for assaulting you.
“What do we do?” The one that mentioned the odd impossibility of your existence also stood near, worried gaze aimed at your hunching form. “We’ve never met an Omega before.”
Perspiration seeped through your clothing, shivers racking all over your body. You now laid down completely, hugging your bruised knees to your chest in fetal position.
A sudden current of unexplained emotions surged through the odd sensations of your body. Almost like not knowing how to pick, your emotions jumped from blinding rage, and oh so suddenly, back to despair then again to happiness. Sobs of overwhelming consciousness were pulled from you against your will. Your hands were freed, allowing you to clutch your head.
“Make it stop,” you begged repetitively through your crying, migraine increasing by the second.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Soap repeated again and again, apologies increasing at your wails.
You covered your ears at his voice, clenching your eyes shut.
“Hush” the gruff man sporting the mask said from the back. “No Beta should speak now.”
They made way as he neared, steps carefully calculated.
Unlike Soap’s voice, the lower rumbling coming from the looming shadow didn’t feel like screeching. His voice almost lulled you from the up and coming anguish caving away in your chest.
“What’s happening to me?” You managed to choke out, your voice feeling like nails trying to crawl up your trachea.
“It will pass soon,” he said, dark eyes intensely focusing on your own. He didn’t kneel beside the others, standing away, hiding your sight from the pacing beast behind his back, almost sensing how uncomfortable it made you. Even through the neutral tone and mask, you noticed how agitated he was at your state. The why and the how of the reason you knew that was lost on you.
“Stop that, you’re making her nervous,” the Sheriff spoke at the beast’s growl, but with a huff, it followed instructions and laid down slowly, as if not to disturb you.
After one last upsurge of overwhelming emotions, it slowly lulled down to a passive wave that you had to fight through. It was almost as if it had drained you, physically and emotionally. You could only stare in a haze at the military boots kneeling beside you.
Minutes followed in silence, allowing you reprieve from your heightened senses as your tears didn’t cease.
“How are you feeling, pup?” The Sherriff asked lowly, scared of disturbing you from your sudden peace. You tried to breathe out an answer, but nothing came out. You laid down there, limp, and exhausted, and yet it was not enough to stave away the need for comfort.
This wasn’t you, but you couldn’t fight the honing focus of your sight. And through your breathing, a scent snapped you up into action, like a string pulling you forward. The men hovering over you leaned back as you raised your head slowly but desperately. It was a need for… you weren’t sure for what.
Without aiming to, your self-preservation was lost amidst the confusion, making you forget all these months where you forced yourself into isolation, away from people and their touch.
You looked around, as if searching for something. The men stared at you bewildered as it called to you, sounding like a faraway howl deafening your usual self. It moved you against your will, it’s rebounding echo merging into a chorus of ravenous animals demanding your presence. The image of snarling teeth right behind your neck snapped into your mind.
Without control of your movements, you clumsily rose to your hands and knees, palms scraping the pavement as you crawled forward. The men shielding you made way, confused at your desperate state. Your gaze roved around, until landing exactly on what you were instinctually searching for, on whom you were called to.
He wasn’t far away, standing close to the comrades kneeling beside you. As you neared slowly, you saw the eyes behind the mask minutely widen.
“Ghost?” the Sheriff asked slowly, given his frozen state at your crumbling form reaching for his ankles. It was almost as if you couldn’t wait to get to him, your hands not knowing if to push you forward or reach for him.
You finally got to the stoic man, grasping his pants by his ankles, pleading at his towering indifference. You pulled and pulled, and a whine was pulled from you when he didn’t move.
Finally, you dared to look up, eyes clashing with amber irises in an intensity that matched the onslaught of sensations you were forced to breathe through earlier. It wasn’t animosity that found you, but shock and confusion, and maybe awe. From your view from the floor, it was almost humbling that a man that size was just as confused as you.
Your eyes watered at the sight of his unmoving form, reaching closer and upwards with the intention to climb him.
“Simon.” Someone sternly called his name, snapping him from whatever had made him freeze in panic like a novice. He slowly but surely kneeled, your hands refusing to let go of his clothes. Just as desperately, when he reached your height, your arms tried to close around him, pressing your body to him in a tight hug, but his torso was too big for you to touch your fingertips at his back.
The cold of the pavement, along with the smell of blood, had left you shivering. Almost too cold to be natural, until a big, tattooed hand gently, tentatively, placed itself at the nape of your neck.
Your lashes fluttered at the warm sensation, shoulders sagging in releaf, allowing you to breathe normally.
The others looked up, surprised at the kind gesture given by their most ruthless killer, or so you assumed going by the blood you had seen stuck at the soles of his boots.
Without waiting for instructions, that hand traveled slowly down your arm then to your side as if not to spook you. Just as carefully, an arm locked itself behind your knees, bringing you to his chest. The screeching need of him to hold you lulled, allowing exhaustion to melt you against him.
“Ghost?” Soap whispered, looking over you with trepidation at the consequences of him using his voice. “What are you doing?”
Your head felt heavy, forehead resting in the space beneath his jaw and his neck. Even through the baclava you could smell him, musk and something akin to sandalwood easing you to rest. The warmth surrounding you might have emanated from the hard chest you were pressed against or the trunk for arms now holding you to him, you weren’t sure what made you feel suddenly so secure. The only thing you were sure about right now was how tired you felt.
The masked man that had terrified you in the beginning dignified Soap’s question with merely a grunt for an answer, his quiet steps lulling you to a deep sleep.  
From far away, the howling now didn’t sound so menacing, nor so loud, easing into your subconsciousness as if it were completely natural, for his warmth had quieted whatever unexplained horrors had taken over you.
A/N: Hoped you likes it! I'm open to suggestions on what should happen next 𓏗𓏗
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queermentaldisaster · 1 year ago
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Werewolf!Price, who was terrified at first to let you near him on the full moon, because when he transforms, he kinda blacks out.
Werewolf!Price, who was forced to stay at your place during a full moon because there was a really bad storm.
Werewolf!Price, who you were expecting to be much more aggressive and violent, immediately began acting like a dog who was left alone for an hour by its owner.
Werewolf!Price, when he detransforms, is surprised, but glad to find you still alive and not mauled.
You ended up falling asleep on his large fluffy back when he was still in wolf form ❤️
@thedevillovesflowers
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nathanwonderwolf · 1 year ago
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1 and 2 have different timeline
1 At the very beginning of working with Soap, Ghost preferred to spend the night in the forest and in wolf skin.
2 The raid on the base. Johnny barely survived and thought he had lost Simon
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The werewolf lore by @deadbranch has been living rent free in my head for a time, and this ended killing me further, so... I'm so sorry (I'm not lol)
Disclaimer: Yes, it's Ghost. Yes, it's my OC but because some people get stupid about OCs I haven't described her, so you can imagine whatever. People that knows, knows
Also, sorry for all the lore inaccuracies. This came to me last night at 3am so it's kinda messed up and unedited.
Music and smoke surrounded him as he descended the stairs to the club, ten minutes before the party started, his bulky body moving easily through the crowd because most of them had the good sense to open way for him.
The ‘hunters’ were gathered in front of the ‘coat checkers’, waiting for them to offer the boxes where they would be able to choose a prey’s item. A mix of pheromones and anxiety filled his nostrils, wafting from the people around him. Nervous whelps, experienced predators, all of them waiting for the game to start.
He pushed to the front, to where the box with the item that interested him was. The box where the prey had chosen males to pursue them. One whelp tried to protest when he got to the front of the line, but an icy stare made the idiot cower and decide against crossing the imponent male.
Turning around, he looked at the clock to check that he still had a couple of minutes, and then looked down at the open box, trying to locate the item he was looking for.
She always left the same item. He wanted to believe it was for him.
The first time, he had been at the party by chance. Soap and Gaz talked him into going, telling him that he needed to relax, unwind, on some other shit. He had stopped listening after the first five minutes of their nagging. But somehow, he found himself going along with it, begrudgingly following them to a big house on the outskirts, and staring down at a box just like the one he had in front of him.
He didn’t care about male or female. But when he saw the delicate lace of a red bra, with a small phoenix charm dangling between the cups, his cock stirred in his pants even before he opened the sealed bag and sniffed it.
He found her in record time, leaning against a counter while chatting with other girls, and when he stepped inside that room and she looked in his direction, he was done for. And for her scent, she was too.
The first time they didn’t exchange a single word, they just went hand in hand to one of the rooms upstairs, locked the door and fucked desperately as if the world would end if their bodies came apart even for a second. Forehead against forehead as he rutted into her slow but hard, his massive body caging hers against the mattress and feeling her fingers tangled in his hair, and her eyes on his the whole time.
The second time he waited outside of the venue hours before the predators were allowed to go in, just to see the prey arrive and check if she was there. And she was. Somehow she knew he was there in the shadows, watching, and her pretty face had relaxed on a smile when their eyes met, and he knew he was screwed.
That second time he had pushed his way to the front of the line, much to Soap and Gaz’s amusement, and rummaged inside until he found what he was looking for. The bra with the little phoenix charm. She used the same garment, so he would recognize it.
Or he wanted to believe that.
That time, she was waiting for him in the stairs, next to a closet room, and her smile greeted him as he practically ran upstairs like a stupid eager whelp, until his hands reached her waist and he swept her up. Her giggle made his cock harden in his jeans, her legs wrapping around his waist while the skirt of the pretty black dress she was wearing slid up to her hips.
That time, they kissed throughout the whole act, locked inside the closet room, holding her in his arms so he could make love to her against the wall. Love, not hopeless rutting.
Tongues tangled until they hurt, his big hands scooping her arse, her legs around him and her hands cupping his jaw while they kissed as if they had been kissing for a thousand years.
This time, he already had a hotel booked. For the whole weekend.
When the coat checker gave him the go ahead, he rummaged in the box until he found what he was looking for, stepping aside to open the bag in a hurry.
The red lace with the phoenix charm.
This time, maybe they’d even exchange names and numbers.
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starandcloud · 1 year ago
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Simon "Ghost" Riley Imagine
Ghost werewolf AU
Imagine Ghost being taken Captive on purpose for a mission and being a pain in his wolf form, biting whoever tries to feed or take care of him
Imagine being the subject of his bites more often than not and just trying to take care of him
imagine having bandages up and down your arms from his bites and attacks
Imagine not being able to hold any of your wounds against him, since you know he's angry
Imagine always speaking softly to Ghost, trying to soothe his angry demenor
Imagine slowly chipping away at his cold walls with gifts and soft compliments
Imagine finally breaking those walls down and being the only person that can be close to him
but
Imagine the 141 breaking in and killing everyone, even you
Imagine Ghost finding your body and choking out and crying
"No, no no no no no no no no," Simon would beg as he held your dying body, "No.... please... please wake up..."
Imagine giving him a gently smile and whispering: "You're still such a good boy Ghost..."
Imagine him watching you die and the most heartbreaking scream come from him as he held you close and rocked the both of you, hoping it was just a sick and twisted dream
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