#soap's a werewolf though

[ghostlysoaps]

Creature/monster AU

Soft warning for mature language and themes

Soap is staring at him. This, in and of itself, isn't unusual. It's like their very own game of cat-and-mouse. Watching and waiting to get caught in the act, diverting their attention only after the other catches their gaze to keep. The switch occurs, and then it's up to each of them to decide how much blatant attention is enough.

Ghost grits his teeth under the relative safety of his mask but doesn't take his eyes off the road. He can't afford to with the headlights off even if he sees better in the dark than most – not with the loops and curves and potential threat hunting them.

"Are we going to talk about it?" Soap eventually asks, an hour and some into their mad dash to safety.

Ghost wishes he could parrot the question back at him while replacing the last word with "what.” It wouldn't work, he knows that. Playing the fool isn't Ghost’s strong suit and Soap wouldn't care to indulge him anyway. Not with the way his leg is bouncing, ears flicking, gaze as piercing as a knife between the ribs. A bloodhound who's caught a whiff of wounded prey. 

"No," is what he says instead, short, concise and brokering no room for argument.

"I think we should."

But then, Soap would argue with a brick wall on the off-chance he could win.

"Drop it, Sergeant."

Soap's face twists, canines flashing as he gives himself to irritation, eyes flashing gold.

"It was wearing my face while trying to coax ye into dicking it down, Ah'd say there's plenty to discuss."

"It was trying to get me close enough to wring my neck."

"Och, aye. Strange way t'go about it." The glower he levels Ghost with burns against the side of his face. "Sure there's nothing you wanna tell me? Might've helped dislodge that stick up yer arse if you'd let it–"

Ghost swerves abruptly, takes them off the main road to rest beneath a canopy of trees, on a path too overgrown to count as one, cutting Soap's questioning in half as the man yelps and slams a hand against the window to steady himself. The car slows to a stop and then one of Ghost's claw-tipped hands are on Johnny’s face, digging deep divots into the fat and muscle around his chin and jaw. He uses it to shake Soap's head from side-to-side. Not scruffing, but a show of displeasure nonetheless. One familiar to wolves. 

When Soap opens his mouth to protest, Ghost gives in to the urge to slot his thumb inside the warm cavern and draws a shallow line across it that quickly wells with blood.

"One more word," he snarls, "and I'll cut your tongue right out of your fucking mouth."

Soap stares at him, all wide-eyed and stricken, for a moment, just the one, before his lips stretch into a smirk around the digit in his mouth. He seals his lips over it, hollows his cheeks on a mean suckle, and then nips it with too-sharp teeth the moment Ghost pulls it out as if burnt, causing that lopsided smirk to broaden. 

"Shouldn't threaten me with a good time, sir."

"You're off your head." 

"I can smell arousal, y'know," Soap says, redirecting the conversation with all the gracefulness Ghost shows in his driving. "But not on you, can't ever smell anything on you. Drives me up the fuckin' wall." Soap shakes his head with a laugh, glances at Ghost from under his lashes. He's still smiling. "Sirens... now they don't need pheromones to get in yer head and root out yer darkest desires, an' they don't resort to shape-shifting into a specific guise unless there's a chance it'll work on their target."

"It didn't."

"I could tell by the bullet ye put through its heid. Dinnae even hesitate for a second."

Ghost's fingers flex at the reminder and Soap's eyes flit to them momentarily.

"You've a cold heart, Lt."

"Told you that already," Ghost rasps.

"Why me?"

And it sounds like begging, those two words, spoken in a beckoning call of their own, pleading for a truth Ghost is refusing to admit to anyone, least of all himself.

"You're attractive, Soap, that's all there is to it."

Soap deflates, sinking back into his seat with his face turning towards the window. Shoulders slumped, ears pinned back, as if he were a puppy expecting praise and finding a boot hurtling towards his side instead. It's jarring. Not wholly unexpected, but hell if it doesn't drive a blade straight through Ghost's aforementioned heart – something serrated and hooked sawing through his sternum to tear at raw nerves.

He should leave them there, within the rapidly growing chasm of distance he'd longed to create since Soap first bumped a fist against his shoulder.

"I knew it wasn't you."

It's the thinnest sliver of an olive branch, incapable of flowering with how slight and insignificant it is.

Soap takes it nonetheless.

"How's that?"

"Because your attempts at flirting are as bad as your jokes."

Johnny, incandescent with rage, comes back alive as if electrocuted and with slew of profanity to boot. He rants at Ghost for a solid half-hour, all ire and with no regard for propriety or rank, dressing him down as thoroughly as any drill sergeant back at basic. Anger is a good look on him. Joy is too. Emotions of any kind as long as they're far from the empty vessel Ghost had glimpsed before.

He lets out a breath he can't remember holding as Johnny’s voice steadily washes away the memory of blood in the sand and dimmed, unseeing eyes, blue as the summer's sky, staring unblinking ahead.

[natelia-aldelliz]

More werewolf au because I can :

Graves wasn't supposed to know about the werewolves, but Shepherd knew so maybe that's how he got the intel. As he's betraying them, he asks, almost begs, Soap to come with him, to join him against Alejandro and Ghost.

Alejandro because of the 'drug affiliation' thingy and his blatant dislike of Mexicans and Ghost because he's a monster. A beast, not even human. And he wants to protect Soap, believes him to be in danger, doesn't listen to Soap trying to de-escalate the situation, trying to ask him not to do that.

(Because he believes he knows what other people need more than them)

And Soap still has that very primal fear inside of him everytime he's around his the pack, that prey instinct that his predators are there, waiting for him to lower his guard. That's true, he does, he's even too scared to admit he's also not fully human.

But never, ever, has he considered betraying them, going against them in anyway. He wouldn't be a good cat if his fear of bigger predators wasn't overtaken by his very cocky very wrong feeling that he could take them all in a fight if he had to.

His cat-self was scared of their lycanthropic-selves, but he himself had never been scared of them as people. Well. Scared that they'd reject him, that they'd never consider him a member of the pack, yes. But scared that they'd hurt him? Not really.

Graves doesn't appreciate rejection, getting told no. He opens fire, Soap gets a bullet in his shoulder, Ghost begs him to get up and run.

He roams the streets with his head swimming from the blood loss, fighting against his instincts to just turn into a cat, curl up in a hole somewhere and lick his wounds, purring to himself to try and comfort the betrayed-hurt-helpless feeling in his gut.

But he can't, because he's not like the were-people, he's not a werecat, he doesn't heal faster. And his human biology makes surviving a bullet wound easier than the cat biology for some reason. (He tried, it just made him go in shock faster.) The hands keeping the blood from flowing freely definitely help for one. And what if Ghost contacts him and he can't respond and his LT thinks he's dead and leaves him here?

The Shadows are everywhere. The good thing is that his eyes see better in low light than theirs, than even the night vision helmets. His hearing is also better, though not as good as his cat-self's. That means he always knows where they are around him and he can avoid them.

When he's finally reunited with Ghost, the man keeps throwing him weird looks, but doesn't say anything. Soap can't really focus, he needs all his remaining blood doing actually important things and analysing your superior-officer-that-you've-been-lowkey-flirting-with's looks isn't one of these.

They reach Alejandro's safehouse, are reunited with Rudy, then Ghost sees him wobbling in place and drags him in the little medbay to see to his wounds. He gets stitches, incredibly thankful for Ghost's steady hands. As he finishes up though, his hands stay a bit longer on his shoulder, one of them climbs up to his ear and tugs it slightly, his eyes still staring.

Soap knows what he's doing, has seen Price lightly tug Gaz' and Ghost's (through the mask) ears, knows that it's a stand in for nipping them when they're in human form, as a way to say hello, or assert dominance or comfort them. Reserved for pack members.

Has... has he been accepted in the pack? His heart is beating faster, which isn't good with all the blood he's lost and the fact that the adrenaline is running out fast. His head is spinning. He looks up at Ghost with dilated eyes, trying to focus everything on him to try and understand before he passes out.

Ghost is looking straight at him, as usual, his head slowly tilting, his eyebrows furrowing in incomprehension. His peripherals are darkening more and more, darkness seeping in, and his eyes suddenly feel very hot while the rest of his body is getting cold and tingly.

Ghost's hand makes its way to the back of his neck, helping him hold his head up as his vision gets more and more blurry.

"What even are you?" Soap thinks he hears whispered as he finally loses consciousness.

[ghouljams]

what sort of body hair & body types do you think the 141 boys have

So glad you asked:

Starting with pretty boy Gaz, He's absolutely got the gym body. You know the one with the perfectly sculpted muscles, tugging his shorts up to show off the flex of his thighs for the camera as he grins, rolling his shoulders back to show off the lats, flexing for the camera. He's more lean muscle than huge body builder vibes, like it's definitely tailored to his body type, but it's that instagram influencer perfect physique. He's got a well groomed smattering of hair. Not a ton on his chest but plenty of people are eyeing that neat happy trail as he does chest presses at the gym. Lemme get a peak at that man in the sauna...

Soap is a big lad, but it's all muscle. He definitely is going for more of the body builder physique. Packs on muscle really well, and tries to manage his macros so that he keeps his abs when he wants them. The man is stacked. He's also hairy. He's the motherfucker that you're hoping to death wipes off the gym equipment because you can see him sweating through that pelt he's got. Good dark hair on his arms and legs, and chest hair you just wanna bury your face in. You're not even into that stuff but when he raises his arms to grab the lat tower bar you kinda wanna run your tongue through his underarm hair. You just know that man doesn't even trim his pubic area...

Ghost is just naturally big, but he also packs on muscle like a motherfucker. Ghost has a solid strongman look, like he definitely works out, and you've seen him bench 400 lbs without breaking a sweat, but he also looks like he never turns down a slice of cake. Olympic dead lifter type. You could watch him run on the treadmill for hours with the way his pecs bounce. Doesn't look hairy because he's blond, so it's very light wispy hair, but he's got a nice map of curls at the base of his dick that just make you wanna suck him off. Always lets his towel sit too low in the sauna, when you die, you wanna come back as the sweat dripping between his tits.

Price... You wanna talk about a man that pass up a decent meal it's Price. That doesn't mean he isn't in the gym with his men, it just means he's the one in the mess at midnight grabbing that last cookie before bed. He's good at shedding the weight though. You see him before a mission and he's trimmed up, but once he's home he's a bear of a man. That goes for the hair too. That man is so fucking hairy. Thick dark hair all over his body, to the point where you're not sure he isn't a werewolf or something. You actually checked the lunar cycle once when he wiped his face with the bottom of his shirt in the gym, and you saw the thick hair trailing down the center line of his stomach. (What a man, what a man, what a man)

[bluegiragi]

cockatrice (part 2)

early access + nsfw on patreon

--

werewolf lore drop ahead!!

although werewolves are classified as a shifter-type monster (same as Horangi or the cockatrice) they're actually unique in a hidden way. Horangi is a hybrid whose lineology originates from the first pureblood haetaes, which had zero human in them. In comparison, werewolves originated AS a human-wolf monster, which results in an interesting relationship between the human and shifted 'full-wolf' form.

While Horangi is the same in his human and haetae form, Soap juggles two souls in one body - one belonging to human side, and the other to his wolf. They are both still implicitly him - the souls run parallel with one another throughout his life - but being a werewolf is very much like maintaining a life-long partnership. Soap and his wolf are a great example of a success story, but some werewolves have difficult relationships with their wolf, resulting in only transforming during full moons when they have to.

In some ways, Soap is perfect in the military's eyes as he has a strong connection with his wolf, and happens to come from a long line of larger-than-average specimens (even though he doesn't care too much about his genealogy, preferring to call himself a mongrel breed). In other ways, he's also a nightmare, because his wolf exemplifies the worst in his rebellious streak, featuring recklessness, fickleness towards authority and an extremely low tolerance for boredom.

[fortheb0ys]

FUCK ME LIKE THE MEN BETWEEN THOSE PAGES

Bottom John Price x Top Male Reader

Just Price brain rot🤤 I've always wanted to a model for MLM porn sites ngl so I'm living through this fic🙏 As usual not proofread :)

FEM ALIGNED + MINORS DNI

Prices would be one of those faceless models for those erotic gay romance novels. All his work would be faceless. Just something he did to make money on the side.

It was a secret that was long forgotten. Memories replaced by his military service. His body more scarred than his younger self's. His own books but they were just collecting dust in a box.

When you got together, you had found one of the books Price had forgotten that was on a shelf. Your eyes grew wide as you noiced it was Price's shirtless body on the front cover. A small mole on his left hip was telltale that it was him.

Flipping the book over and reading the synopsis reveals the dirty content of it. All the colour washes from Price's face as he sees what you have in your hand.

Price was about to open his mouth to quickly deny it but saw your giddy excitement. Though Price felt a bit shameful, he told you that there was more. A lot more.

With much hesitation from him and a whole lot more convincing from you, Price lent you the books. His amazing body on every single one of them. A new scar here and there as the

He had been surprised that you never poked fun at him and that you were genuinely interested in his past works.

You'd admit that the sex scenes depicted were the main thing that got you interested. You'd imagine Price vividly as the characters he model on the front covers. It didn't take long for you to read through the lot of them.

When Price would be on deployment, he'd get a text from you.

Cum on the front cover or on the pages. Or others with your erect cock slotted like a bookmark between the pages with the dirtiest scenes, precum dripping onto the sheets.

You'd send worded texts underneath the photo like "Try these with me?" or "What if were we the ones to do this?"

Price hated himself for showing you the books right before the mission, making the wait painfully long.

Sexualy frustrated and slightly pissed he had to wait for his deployment to end, Price would have a lonely wank in his barracks. His fingers didn't feel right. His fantasies never felt like details in the books. Nothing felt like you.

Once he got back, Price had to fight back a boner as the anticipation took over him. He went through countless cigars trying to get his mind on something else. The 141 Boys knew something was up. Soap had to control the intrusive thoughts to ask if you were waiting naked when Price returned home.

Which he wasn't wrong. The moment Price came through that door he was already painfully hard. Before he could even open his mouth to greet you, you were on him like a fly to honey, attacking his neck with bruising kisses. Whispering the dirty dialog from one of the books made Price weak in the knees.

Thus was the beginning of your roleplay sex.

Your playtime is always different. Numerous scenarios with one thing in common: Mind blowing sex.

Price would play a royal guard, and you, the prince. A prince in a loveless engagement to a princess. A guard pleading loyalty as he rides the prince on the royal throne.

A grade slipping college student fucking his teacher in an empty classroom for extra credit. Blowjows underneath desks replaces the outdated method of study and paying attention to lectures.

A hunter who falls in love with a werewolf he's supposed to kill. The wolf is just a dumb puppy who needs to be told what to do. With a collar around his neck, ready to be tugged at and the willingness to please his master, puppy soon becomes skilled at lapping at master's hole.

A rowdy rockstar and his stressed out manager. The musician needing to burn off the adrenaline after the show and the poor management needing the stress fucked out of him. The real show was played backstage. The manager put on quite the proformance, his deep moans sounded much better than your singing.

A sex therapist that prefers to take on a more hands-on approach. That skilled tongue was used more than just giving advice.

Or lastly, a priest beguiled by a gorgeous sinner. Guilt was all he felt but it felt like true heaven. God would forgive any sin if he showed true repentance, right? Wouldn't Jesus have died for nothing if we didn't sin?

Sure, some where terrible written and some were written by women with a fetish for gay men. Seeing you act out the scenes without missing a beat or breaking out into laughter while you quoted the dirtiest and most ridiculous things.

You'd remember every dirty word uttered. Every scenario memorized. Price was starting to understand what those white women on TikTok saw in those fucking books. It was just too bad they couldn't live it out like he could.

[ghcstao3]

saw a comment under this tiktok and now i’m thinking about werewolf!soap x butcher!ghost

they meet on a rainy day, when soap takes shelter in the first shop he sees once it begins pouring. it only hits soap that he’s made a grave mistake upon first whiff of the cuts of meat, but he can’t just turn around and go back into the rain because that’s weird, and he already isn’t human.

the man at the counter barely raises an eyebrow at him, though, even as he stands at the door soaking wet and looking anywhere but the display, and even as soap is the only one in the shop. it’s only when soap is lingering in the same spot for a solid five minutes does the butcher look up, an irritated scowl on his face as he glares at soap.

“gonna stand there all day, then?”

sheepish, soap shrugs. “jus’ didn’t want to track in the water.”

the man scoffs, before pointing to a far corner of the shop where two small tables and chairs are set, a silent order before he returns to carving the slab of meat he’d been working on earlier. soap hesitates, but eventually shuffles over and winces as he sits with the unpleasant squelch of his clothes.

soap knows the man is privy to his quick glances at the counter and subtle attempts at sniffing the air, but nothing is said for a long while. they just sit in silence until the rain clears about an hour after soap’s arrival.

as soap stands and wanders over to the door, that gruff voice from earlier tells him to wait. soap does so obediently, remaining glued to his place as he listens to the man move about behind the counter before finally his footsteps are approaching soap, and a heavy hand falls on the werewolf’s shoulder.

presented to soap are two cuts of meat wrapped in butcher paper, a look not indicative of anything on the man’s face.

soap accepts, opens his mouth to offer to pay, but the man’s back is already turned on him to retreat to the counter—but soap stays put, dumbfounded, clutching the meat to his chest.

when the butcher turns around and sees soap still there, he huffs, less annoyed than he’d been the first time around.

“not the first wolf i’ve met,” he grumbles. “y���have a look about you.”

“…thank you?”

a grunt. “get out of my shop.”

soap swallows thickly, nods, then makes his leave.

and as he walks, footsteps beating an even rhythm on the sidewalk, a nagging voice in the back of his head tells him he will most definitely be returning to the little butcher shop some time in the near future.

…just to get more steak, of course.

[gremlingottoosilly]

More on the poor girl who’s 141’s chewtoy?

She has the worst fate!! Being a pet wife/incubator for one monster is bad enough, but it can be manageable if your new owner isn't an asshole and doesn't treat you like a lifeless object. It's a rare case, sure, but even Konig is somewhat softer after you get his eggs, the mating instincts in monsters are all kicking in. The 141 however...I love to see them as a pack of different breed shifters, maybe were-creatures like bears, wolves, and various birds...they all have this semi-animalistic mentality, they formed a pack bond that is stronger than any blood relations. They are more than family and it's only natural that they share the same darling, yes? Unfortunately for you, it is only natural for them, and you're soon getting dragged from the human pet shop by an excited overgrown werewolf with a dumb mohawk that chirps about getting such a pretty girl for his team!! You are never alone - every time other team members are on a mission, the other ones take care of you, always keeping watch over your silly escape attempts like humans have any future in the monster world now( Gaz is usually the one who is softer with you, his nature as a werebird is making him somewhat more caring, he will drag you a lot of shiny gifts and flashy clothes because he is pretty and he wants his girl to be pretty! Soap is usually the one to always fuck you, unfortunately. Being a classic werewolf, he is too fucking horny for his own good, always stuck in a knot with you, always mating and hoping that you will give birth to healthy pups, even though he is somewhat sad they are mostly taken away for the training needs( his pack mentality is strong, so if you really really really want at least some of your children to stay with you, you should beg Soap to allow you to see them occasionally - he would gladly steal the pups back to base, but it would mean you won't give him as much attention(

@ceilidho mostly inspired me for this, but werebear!Price is literally perfect and I won't stand for otherwise. He is big, burly, with a soft tummy and warm hands that would easily push you down, ass up in the air because you were a naughty little incubator and whined too much about Soap and Gaz being too rough( he knows your limits, and also knows that they are spoiling you too much! You need some discipline and your bear captain is gladly providing you with spanks that make your ass raw, with his teeth and a dick that takes away your ability to walk at least for a few days( he is older than every other member of the pack, and he won't really bother you too much with sex - he knows you're tired, especially if you're pregnant, and he enjoys slow cockwarming sessions and just laying in the nest with you, false hybernating on your swollen, milk-filled breasts.

Ghost is...complicated. You don't even know what type of shifter he is at first, he is too fucking secretive to even talk about it. Only after a few involuntary breakdowns, could you catch a glimpse of his shadowy form - whatever animal-type monster he was, staid in the past. He is all shadows now, dark and glossy with smoke tendrils that help him handle you in place every time you become too squirmy. You were so convinced Simon hated you at first, just a dumb human who disrupts the balance of their pack, but your fears were proven wrong once you were pressed against a wall, thick dark tendrils squeezing in and out of your pussy. Ghost is the only one who can't breed you, and it only makes him more protective whenever you're pregnant.

[lovifie]

Hi this is my first ever request lol, so I uh was wondering if you could write a soap x reader little red riding hood. It could be some cute fluff or I guess even smutty depending on how you'd want to depict it. Sorry if it's a rather blank request, I'm very bland when it comes to writing and such (>_<)

Hi love! Thank you so much for the request, I hope I met your expectations 🩷

It did turn really smutty though, so I hope you don't mind 🩷

Smut | 1818 words | Back to Masterlist

W: Werewolf!Soap x Little Red Riding Hood!Reader (inspired at least), smut, defined breeding kink must it's mostly a werewolf thing, biting, mentions of pregnancy (is the breeding kink warm up, you know), knoting.

You were used to being the one taking your grandma her food, making sure she still ate the produce she couldn't acquire in her house deep into the forest.

So every other week, you would do your little journey. It didn't take long, you'll get to her house before lunch time and you chose to stay the day with her before making your way back.

You already knew the path like the back of your hand, always on time and never getting lost.

There is also Johnny, a friendly neighbour who on many occasions chooses to walk along with you. The chat is nice, makes the walk more entertaining even when you go the different route that Johnny showed you; just because it is longer and that way you can talk for longer.

You obviously didn't trust him at first, a grown man in the middle of the forest sounds terrifying on its own. And you need to add to that the fact that Johnny is built like a brick house.

“I could have you for dinner.” He joked once when you asked him what did he ate to be so big. A silly joke.

The fear of the big man following you in the forest, quickly turned into the big man walking with you. And the little fear you had of the wild dissipated the closer he walked with you.

Especially, when during the spring rumours started flying around about a massive wolf living in the forest. Apparently a huge striped dog has been seen walking on the forest line for a couple of weeks now, always looking into the town but never quite entering.

The dog, big enough to be the size of a grown man on his hinged legs, eyes that reflect the light of the fire and teeth to rip the flesh off the bone.

Your grandma moved out of her house, moving inside town to be away from the animal. Still, you couldn't sleep at night knowing Johnny was out there.

With your grandma living in your house, you didn't have an excuse to walk in the forest. But still, on a freezing morning in the middle of spring you found yourself walking inside the forest wishing you could come across Johnny quickly and be back home.

What you come across instead, is a growling behind you. So deep you feel it shaking your bones before you can see it. You only need to see the outline of the monster before you are sprinting for your life, it is a stupid decision and you know it. It immediately triggers the beast to follow you.

The path to your grandma's house has never been so long and you don't even make half way through before you fall, tripping on your own feet. You turn around, looking for the dog which seems to have evaporated into thin air.

A warm hand on your back makes you jump, turning around and coming face to face with Johnny, a pained expression on his face. You jump into his arms, a groan into your ear as he hugs you back, a bit too hard.

You peel back when he cups your face. “You shouldn't be here, bonnie.” He says, looking in pain, making every alarm bell ring on your head.

You pat his body, looking for any injury and hearing him groan whenever your hand touches his body. “Are you in pain? Did it attack you? Are you fine?” You ask frantically.

“Lass!” He grunts, making you look into his eyes, dark when you lay your eyes on his. “You need to get back! Get away from me!”

“But why?” You ask, hurt with the rejection. “I came here just for you, Johnny…”

He groans, looking away from your face as he licks his lips. He sighs, resting his forehead against yours. “You need to go back because every part of my body is screaming at me to eat you whole, bonnie.”

“You can.” It comes out before you can register it, you are not a stranger to your own feelings for the man in front of you. The weekly walks, your hand on his arm, his hand on your back, the soft pecks on your cheek when saying goodbye. It quickly had you getting home warm on the face and your tummy.

The man groans again, closing his eyes, as if your words hurt him. “You don't know what you are saying-”

“I do! I do know!” You argue, cutting him off and sitting up closer to him but his arms pull you back. He looks down on you, searching for any doubt in your face. Anything that could silence the hungry voice in his brain, but when the only thing he can find is the same hunger in yours he laps forward, crushing his lips on yours.

He is not gentle by any means, his wide hands roam your body pulling you closer, grabbing your body, winking his nails into your flush meat, biting your lips, growling on your mouth. His hands scrunch up your dress, ripping the bloomers under it making you gasp at the feeling of the cold air on your core.

“I can fucking smell you, bonnie. And it's driving me mad. You have been driving me mad for months.” He grunts against your mouth, grabbing your hips to sit you on top of his.

You whine at his words. “I want to feel you, Johnny. I want to feel you here.” You say, grabbing one of his hands to place it on top of your crying cunt.

Johnny takes a deep breath, regulating himself, before he sinks two of his fingers inside of you; the stretch making you mewl against Johnny's neck, moaning softly as he starts to move his wrist.

You can feel him grind his hips against your, the material of his trousers rubbing against your exposed clit making you whine and he quickly shushes you kissing your temple as his fingers open you up for him.

“I can't wait to sink into you, my sweet bonnie.” He groans at you, making you clench at the sound.

He pulls his fingers out, bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean, closing his eyes as he hums at the taste. His pupils impossibly wide when he opens them again, the blue on his eyes barely visible.

He helps you onto your hand and knees, standing behind you as he licks your neck from behind, his tip probing at your entrance. You don't have a chance to peek at his shaft, so you don't expect the wide stretch that just simply seems to never end.

Never in your life has you felt this full, the stretch of his fingers far from enough and it has you falling face first with his hands on your hips.

He grunts when he bottoms out inside of you, bending down to lick the tears on your cheeks. “Shh, bonnie lass. You are taking me so well, I could live right here. So tight, so warm, so wet “ he moans, pulling his hips slightly back making you whine as you clench down making him grunt.

It's too much, it is reaching places you were not aware existed; his wide hands on your hips keeping you in place, it has your brain mushy barely able to put your hands under your face to prevent yourself from eating dirt.

His thrust starts to get deeper, slowly pulling out until only his tip is inside just to push in again just as deliciously slow as the first one. It is torturous how slow he fills you up, the empty feeling when he pulls back making you whine and move your hips back.

He pulls himself back, not wanting to give in to his instincts just yet, needing to know you are ready. The way your cunts sucks him in whenever he pulls back making him grunt; he hears you moan his name, asking for more, and that is everything he needs to hear.

He bends down, hugging your middle as he shoves his face on your neck, keeping you in place to be able to piston his dick in and out of your weeping cunt as fast as his hips allow him.

It pulls the breath out of your lungs, only able to moan loud like a whore as the man on your back fucks you like a bitch in heat.

His arms are tight around your body, his grunts and groans loud on your ear and when his hand moves lower, right over your clit rubbing it, is like pushing the button to have you coming undone.

You cry out his name, eyes rolling back as you do, your cunt pulsing around his cock making him fuck you faster.

You don't have time to come back down, not stopping pleasure waving over you. Filth being talked into your brain. “I'm gonna fuck you full of my pups, love. Gonna keep you forever, full of me, love. Gonna make you a mama, round and plush.” He groans, his brain empty of any sense and only listening to his instincts of breeding, the spring making him completely lose his ability to think clearly.

Another round of stretch has you whining softly, you are already to the brim what is it now? You cry at the feeling, Johnny mouth opening over the junction of your neck and shoulder.

His thrust became sloppy, more shallow as if he couldn't move as freely. He bites down hard on your shoulder, making you whine at the pain but the way you clench down on his length as he grunting as he comes inside of you, his hips flush with yours.

You moan at the feeling, warmth feeling every bit of your inside. But after a while you try to pull, wanting to lay down. Just for a stinging sensation to make you cry and Johnny to grab your hips to prevent you from moving.

“Let's stay like this for a little, bonnie. We stuck.” He groans, as if it makes perfect sense.

“What?” You ask confused.

“Shh, I'll explain it to you later, love.” He says, licking your neck like a dog and caressing your body.

And you want to argue, to understand what he means, to understand what is inside of you opening you so widely, to understand why he was talking about pups, to understand why he bite your shoulder so hard, to understand why the wolf following you suddenly disappeared when he appeared, to understand why he told you to go away, to understand how he found you so easily.

But your eyelids start to weigh tons when Johnny hums behind you, kissing your neck. Plus, the spring is barely starting and Johnny's den is close by. He'll explain later, when his brain stops screaming at him to keep breeding you.

[yandere-kokeshi]

Saw an idea from @frogchiro and decided to write some feral content. Send her some love ❤

TW: yandere, monster fucking, werewolves, some crack/funny thoughts, talks about pregnancy/having pups (still gender-neutral), and knotting stuff.

Imagine TF-141 being yandere werewolf hybrids, falling for you all at once, each sharing their own yandere traits; which, causes all of them to be wherever you are. The need to scent you. Need you to be beside them at all times. And soon bring you home as theirs.

And now, you're their mate, sharing is needed — pack mates practically share everything, no?

Out of the four, Soap and Gaz are the absolute worst — they're feral, energized through the roof, and has to follow you around constantly; nudging into your crotch as they need to smell you. Smell your addictive scent that makes them all types of crazy, causing them to start nipping at your poor skin, growling at each other as the need for breeding comes along.

They both love to yap and bark at you, gently grasping your hand to guide you back to your bed (aka nest) so they can cuddle you (or stuff you full of their knot, their fluffy fur likely suffocating you.)

Though, you are often saved by Simon, and Price, whom are the biggest. They growl at them to watch it and gently bite their ears on scolding, snarling at them of needing to be more careful, and to not hurt you. You're their perfect mate!

Of course, Soap and Gaz make it up with sloppy kisses. And how can you not forgive them? Their obvious doggy eyes working perfectly.

Simon and Price are more so on the chiller side. Watching from afar, and demand cuddles that end up with their heads laying on your lap, the thumping of their tails on the chewed-up couch shows their appreciation when you finally decide to pay them attention.

But don't think they don't get possessive – because they do. More often or not, the hickeys and knots come from them. Though, they're regularly the nicest, rarely one to hurt you, and more aware of their size.

But, their breeding cycles are the fucking worse. Soap and Gaz are naturally horny, biting at your form as their tongue hangs out, but Simon and Price are a menace when in heat. Being more vocal, possessive, and often nipping at your ankles to not stray too far.

Regularly dragging you by the scruff of your clothes where the two of you can mate, spending their heat in peace. Making sure that you can see Price flexing his burly muscles, wanting you to admire their wagging fluffy tails, and showing off how thick, glossy Simon's fur is, and how both of them. All of them, really, can provide you with pleasant things, including a healthy litter of pups.

Despite them being pack mates, all of them are fighting on a regular basis — they all want to be the first one to breed, knot, and have you carry their pups.

When in their full werewolf forms, soap is more prone to chasing butterflies, and bringing you back half-alive birds, barking at you for his proud hunt – his mouth and chest covered in deepening blood.

Though, Gaz, and Price, actually bring actual gifts that are thoughtful — plopping full landscape roses in front of you, the roots still connected to the plant as their tail wag violently as they wait for your praise.

Simon, on the other hand, brings actual food. Like… steals a whole ass barbecued-chicken from someone's backyard, and nudges it closer to you as it's still warm.

Stares at you to eat it, his hazel eyes demanding for you to take it, but immediately snaps at Johnny, who only cackles back. He tries so hard to steal the items every time Simon gifts you something (he just wants a bite out of your food — sharing means caring!).

Everywhere on your body is marked by them, the harsh-but-yet healed maw-marked implanted into your skin. Their marks are typically licked, and kissed on by them.

Bring me some more ideas, please!! I fucking love these men who are feral for you — especially as werewolves 🤭

—

Here's my mw2 masterlist for more things <3

[owlcomics101]

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

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’

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

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.

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.

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.

[tired-biscuit]

werewolf!Kiba finding out you have knotted dildos 👀

18+ MDNI, fem!reader // cw: monsterfucking, scent kink, toys. he’s mean in this one, sorry.

oh my god, him being your ex-boyfriend who you can’t help but hook up with again — or should you say hook up with for ‘one last time’ because, you know, old habits die hard or whatever.

so you’re making out on your bed, every kiss urgent and angry, lips mashing against teeth. your bodies grind against each other, and his broad back is hunched from how he’s nosing his way down the side of your neck; inhaling your scent and feeling your pulse drum on the the tips of his sharp canines that are slowly growing larger, transforming…

and since he can smell what you want, since he’s already got you nice and naked below him, your scent practically screaming fuck me, fuck me, fuck me at him, before you can notice, or much less stop him, he’s pulling away from your neck with a hot lick at your skin and reaching over the edge of the bed to open the drawer that he remembers you usually keep the bottle of lube in.

you obviously need it if you plan on taking his knot again just for ol’ time’s sake — he phrases it that way, not you — but what he finds in there instead is far more peculiar.

it’s dark in the room, however kiba is a predatory type of monster so his eyes still work like a charm even whilst being burdened by shadows. his outstanding eyesight allows him to see the shape, as well as the sheer size of the object that’s sitting right beside the bottle of lube he’d meant to grab and that’s caught his attention now. even more importantly, he’s able to notice the way it expands and bulges right at the base.

almost like a-

“i thought you said that you weren’t gonna miss me the last time we spoke,” he says, every word involuntarily growly and deep from the way he’s fighting back his true nature. but also because your last fight had been one of the worst ones yet. just thinking about it makes him agitated.

your body tenses as realization of what he’d just discovered hits, washing over you like an icy cold shower. you’re still panting, your chest heaving heavily as you try to catch your breath, but now it’s like every inhale hurts a little.

“i didn’t use it,” you mumble, swallowing thickly.

“is that so?”

“yeah, so don’t even bother-”

as if on cue, you watch in horror as he reaches into the drawer and picks up the toy. he weighs it in his hand with a derisive-sounding snort, tracing the intricate veins that run along the scarily massive length before he brings it up to his nose.

ignoring the dumb, wide-eyed stare of disbelief that you give him the second you hear him sniff, kiba proceeds to take a deep inhale.

overall, the toy smells clean. like it’s been washed with the intimate soap of which he can’t remember the brand of, but knows for a fact that you use sometimes. however, there’s also something else lingering on the toy… something faded and weak, from the way it’s been mostly scrubbed off. the slightest, tiniest remnants of your scent cling to the silicone.

the very same scent you’re exuding right now.

arousal.

your ex-boyfriend smirks after he catches you in your lie, pride swelling in his chest. in that very same moment, the headlights of a passing car that’s driving down the street beam through your bedroom window, making his teeth gleam for a second.

his grin is arrogant, wolfish. perfectly fitting for a man — monster — like him. enough to send an excited shiver down your spine, even if that exact arrogance had been one of the reasons why you had decided to break up with him in the first place.

“tsk, tsk, sweetheart.” he clicks his tongue against his teeth while he drops the toy to tap the side of his nose. “lying ain’t nice, y’know? you could’ve just told me that normal cock can’t hit the spot for ya anymore... instead you’re over here trying to fuck regular-ass humans, playing with your silly toys after they leave you unsatisfied, even though i could be giving you the real thing every single night.”

“what makes you think i’d even want ‘the real thing’?” you snip, drawing your brows together and glaring up at him. “what if… what if i’m perfectly satisfied with what i have now? what if it’s better?”

you know you’re in no position to be asking such questions; at least not whilst squirming naked underneath him and with the inside of your mouth still tasting like his tongue, but trying to stand up for yourself feels better than letting him drag you down like this. even if it causes for heat of hypocrisy to slowly creep up your cheeks and neck.

“well, i dunno,” he murmurs, leering down your naked body with bright yellow eyes that seem to possess such a twisted delight in mocking you, mocking you, mocking you.

you’ve let him in, haven’t you?

before you can respond, he picks up the toy again, dragging it down the center of your belly, making you flinch when he reaches the point below your belly button. you try to reach for it but his reflexes are inhumanly quick, so he has no trouble with restraining you with a single hand.

“how ‘bout…” he pauses, grinning once again at the way you can’t help but whimper in frustration when the tip of the dildo makes contact with your sticky, throbbing entrance. the audibly wet sound the action produces makes you want to reach up and smash his teeth in — restrained or not.

especially when he says, “how ‘bout i take turns stuffing your cunt with this lil’ friend of yours, and then when we’re finished, you can tell me all about how much better it is at it than i am, yeah?”

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Haunted Nights & Cozy Frights with the 141

Pairing: Poly141 X reader

Warning: Mostly fluff

Authors note: I hope yall enjoy this little Halloween special!

Word Count: 1.5k

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The crisp chill of Halloween had settled over the safe house, but instead of facing down missions or danger, you were tucked away with Task Force 141 for a night of laughter, warmth, and a bit of harmless fright. Price had suggested a night off to celebrate, a rare moment when everyone could relax, and the idea of celebrating Halloween with the 141 had taken off surprisingly quickly.

After a morning spent gathering snacks, decorations, and costumes, you all returned with enough to transform the safe house into something more like a Halloween hideaway. By the time evening fell, there were flickering candles casting ghostly shadows over the walls, string lights hanging like tiny stars, and a cluster of jack-o’-lanterns with lopsided smiles, carved by Soap himself. The sight was almost cozy—if you ignored the haunting shadows.

The boys were all (mostly) dressed up, and it was a sight. Price looked almost regal in his vampire costume, cape draped across his shoulders as he flashed you a small smirk. Gaz had gone all-in on a pirate costume, complete with a plastic sword and a red headscarf. Soap’s mad scientist costume was practically a work of art; he’d loaded himself up with mismatched goggles, neon goo in syringes, and messy hair to complete the look.

And then, of course, there was Ghost. He had adamantly refused to wear a costume, still dressed in his usual skull balaclava and tactical gear. After some good-natured pleading from the others, he eventually allowed you to clip a tiny, skeletal bat pin to his vest, though he grumbled about it the entire time.

“Feel properly dressed now?” you teased him, grinning as he inspected the tiny bat.

He gave you a steady look, a hint of humor in his eyes. “That’s as far as it goes, love,” he replied, his voice soft. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

You held back a laugh, though it was hard to resist with the tiniest bit of “Halloween spirit” pinned to Ghost’s vest.

The movie marathon began with *Hocus Pocus* — a fitting start for a Halloween night. The group settled in on the couch, snuggled under blankets, bowls of popcorn and candy between you all as the Sanderson sisters filled the screen with Halloween charm. Soap, of course, got invested in every twist and turn of the story, while Gaz munched on popcorn and offered occasional commentary on the costumes and magic spells.

Ghost sat beside you, his usual silence a comforting weight, though he didn’t seem to mind your occasional comments on the movie. You found yourself inching closer to him under the pretense of needing more blanket, though he didn’t seem to mind that either.

The smell of popcorn and hot cider filled the room as the evening wore on, and just when everyone was fully immersed in the movie, a small knock echoed from the front door. Soap practically shot up, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “Trick-or-treaters!” he whispered loudly, scrambling over to grab the candy bowl and make his way to the door.

The rest of you watched as Soap greeted the kids, all dressed up in colorful costumes that made you smile. There was a mini werewolf, a princess, and a very tiny Frankenstein, each of them eagerly holding out their candy buckets as Soap complimented their costumes and handed out treats.

When he returned, he was grinning ear to ear. “Those kids are adorable! One of ‘em said I looked like a ‘mad scientist monster,’” he laughed, shaking his head. You handed him a candy bar, shaking your head as he dropped back into his seat with a look of pure delight.

Each time the doorbell rang, someone new would take a turn at the door, eager to see what costumes would show up next. Gaz earned himself a small following after a little boy dressed as a pirate got incredibly excited by his costume, giving Gaz’s plastic sword a big thumbs-up before running back to his parents.

And then, as fate would have it, a kid dressed as a skeleton caught sight of Ghost when he stepped to the doorway. The kid’s eyes went wide, clearly mesmerized by the dark figure towering in the doorway. He took a brave step forward, tipping his head back to look up at Ghost.

“What’re you supposed to be?” the kid asked, voice full of curiosity.

Ghost hesitated, glancing at you before leaning down slightly to answer, “The boogeyman.”

The kid gave a thrilled squeal, clearly delighted with the answer. You caught Ghost’s eye as he straightened, a faint but amused look in his eyes as he shrugged.

“Seems the kids think you’ve got Halloween spirit after all,” you whispered, grinning as you gave his arm a gentle nudge.

He huffed softly, but there was no hiding the faint smirk under his mask.

As the night went on, the movie marathon shifted to *Halloween Town*, and the trick-or-treaters slowly dwindled. With each knock, Gaz and Soap took turns answering the door, while you, Ghost, and Price stayed nestled on the couch, watching as the Halloween Town characters brought magic and whimsy to life. By the time *The Nightmare Before Christmas* came on, everyone was fully relaxed, cozied up under blankets and leaning against each other in a comfortable tangle of limbs and warmth.

At some point, Price got inspired by the cozy atmosphere and dim lighting, leaning forward with a grin. “Who’s up for a real scare?” he asked, his tone playful but somehow ominous.

You raised a brow, a smile tugging at your lips. “What do you have in mind?”

Price’s voice dropped as he launched into a ghost story, his deep, rumbling tone bringing each detail to life. He told a story about an old platoon that had once ventured too deep into an eerie forest and never returned. His voice carried just the right mix of tension and suspense, making you and Gaz share a nervous glance as the shadows danced across the walls.

“Bloody brilliant,” Soap muttered, leaning forward with wide eyes as Price wrapped up the story with a twist that sent shivers down your spine. Just as he finished, a loud creak echoed from somewhere nearby, making you all jump before Soap dissolved into laughter.

“Relax, everyone. Probably just the wind,” he chuckled, though even he looked slightly uneasy.

When it was Ghost’s turn, he told a bone-chilling story about an abandoned manor house, his deep, gravelly voice sending a thrill down your spine as he leaned in, his eyes glinting with dark humor. His tale had everyone enraptured, the silent weight of his words filling the room as he described the dark hallways and ghostly figures that lurked just out of sight.

You found yourself leaning closer, the steady warmth of his presence a comfort against the chill of his story. When he finished, a stunned silence filled the room before Soap let out an exaggerated shiver, pretending to hide behind Gaz.

“Good one, Ghost,” Soap admitted, grinning as he clutched his blanket a bit tighter.

Ghost gave a subtle nod, looking pleased with the reaction.

As midnight approached, the movies slowly faded out, leaving everyone wrapped in a cozy quiet, warmed by the leftover cider and wrapped up in blankets. Price adjusted his cape and settled back, his arm resting behind you as you felt Soap lean against you on the other side. Gaz had pulled a blanket over his head, pretending to doze, while Ghost stayed close by, the subtle weight of his arm against yours a comforting presence.

Price lifted his mug in a quiet toast. “To Halloween — and to a night well spent,” he said, his voice soft.

Everyone murmured their agreement, voices blending together in a chorus of warmth and quiet laughter. You felt a wave of contentment settle over you, surrounded by the people who meant the most, feeling safer and happier than you could ever remember.

Leaning into Ghost’s shoulder, you closed your eyes, letting the warmth of the group lull you into a peaceful calm. The quiet sounds of the house and the warmth of Halloween settled in as you drifted off, perfectly cozy and right where you belonged.

Hope y’all enjoy! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[thegnomelord]

Shark Merperson reader is real gud.

- 🦈

(HOLY FUCK. THANK YOU TO WHICH EVER ANON REQUESTED THAT BECAUSE I FUCKIN LOVE SHARKS.

Now Im thinking of a Price x Reader, because shars are the oldest species known to exist. Obviously sharks arent immortal, they've just been on this earth way b4 tress bloody existed.

So Im thinking the readers an eldritch creature, they represent sharks as a whole, as long sharks exsist they exsist. Heck they mights of even of been Prices mentor when he was in his draconic 100s? (Late 20s?).

Imagine Price missing his friend calls him up to see hows hes doing. Reader elated to meet an old friend, accepts the invitation to meets up with him. Reader definitely scolds him for lossing a wing, honestly is pertrified Price lost a piece of himself and thought he was retiring due to it. Cut ahort to him smacking him slap dab on the head when he learns he's lost it a long time ago and didnt tell him.

Cue wholesome interactions th 141 and etc. Heck maybe some romance with Price.

Just a blurb i had yo tell you abt)

Okay, this tickles my eldrich abomination trying to act human itch

CW:SFW, eldritch reader, kissing

Price knows you're there the second he steps onto the old wooden pier, able to smell seaweed and brine and something in the air — what he thinks the bottom of the ocean smells like, old rot of decaying whales and older heat of geothermal vents — the soft wind billowing his hair like the breathing of an elderly beast.

He knows you're watching him, passively at least, washed up mermaid purses dotting the beach to give you a glimpse of the world above the waves through the yolks vital for the pup's survival, able to dream of the warm sun and course sand while you slumber beneath the waves.

"Oi, ser, yer look like a wee lass waiting for her sailor." Soap's sharp voice cuts through the air, the werewolf far too energized for his own good, the sand in his fur not dampening his mood when he can just shake himself off and flick the grains on Simon.

"Hah," Price snorts, "Maybe I am." He tilts his head back to the sea, sharp eyes watching the breaking waves. "Time to wake up old friend." He mutters your mangled name under his breath, mortal lips and vocal cords unable to replicate your own voice.

The young ones in his team lack the sight needed to notice your form slowly rise from the sea like a submarine breaking through the ice, only the visible flicker of air and the receding water keying them in. Price old enough to see you without needing the inner surface of his skull to be dotted with eyes. Though even he sees your real form like a man having a stroke — vaguely familiar at first yet the details are undefinable — flesh and sea melding together without rhyme or reason, long strings of seaweed bearing miniature eyes with pups wriggling inside, cookie cutter sharks boring holes through finless corpses so long eel sharks may form ever reforming sinews, fossilized bone and old rock giving giving support to the massive insult to reality's laws; birth and life wrapped up in death.

You're an affront to logic. And with one sneeze from existence itself you're human standing in front of him.

Eerily human.

Perfectly human.

Almost.

"What the fuck?" He can faintly hear Gaz's voice, all of them only now noticing you stand where you weren't previously.

Your hand touches his back before he even registers you move, always slightly damp, "When did this happen?" You ask as you trace the spot where his wing used to be. "What did this?"

"And a 'hello' to you too sweetheart." He clasps a hand around your waist, purring softly in greeting as he pulls you closer to his chest. Even if he sees you once every few centuries, even if you don't possess the ability to reciprocate, his love for you is as youthful as it was when he was but a wyrm.

Your facial features remain neutral like the ones of sunken statues, but you blink, and for a few seconds he can see that yawning abyss in your eyes. "Hi." You say, your hand still tracing the bump created by atrophied flight muscles, trying to judge how fresh it is. "Explain."

Your tone sounds like a predator baring it's teeth, but he knows you wouldn't harm him. "In a lil' bit." He snorts, puts pressure on your back until he forces your legs to move. "Come, want you to meet my boys."

The introductions are odd on both ends considering you hadn't spoken with people other than Price since that Icarus of a passenger ship mistook your fin for an iceberg and they've never met an old one like you. But you like them, they compliment Price just like the small scale he gave you makes the pearls and gold offered to you through the ages shine more.

Even if your face is unreadable, somehow they can figure out you're not too amused when you hear he'd lost his wing during a mission. "I told you arrogance would cost you." You at least you can mimic a sigh as you rub your head, "At least you retired." You say,

"We wish!" Soap snorts before he can help it, and the next thing they hear is a horrific crack that has them jumping out of their skin.

Your head had whipped 180 degrees with the rest of your body remained in place, the laws of nature nothing more but blurry guidelines. "You. . .did retire?" You ask, voice like the roar of a whirlpool.

"About that," Price starts, unable to finish his thought as you slap him upside the head as if he's still the whelp who thought he could brave an ocean storm.

"You'll put me in the grave." You growl, holding him by the ear, words spilling from your mouth like seawater filling the empty bowels of a ship. "I swear your scaly hide hasn't learned a single thing-"

"Should we help?" Gaz wonders as they watch you chastise their captain like he's a boy.

"No, this is great entertainment." Ghost chuckles.

"Want me ta grab the popcorn?" Johnny ads, already snacking, tail thumping against Simon's leg and growling playfully when Gaz reaches for the snacks.

Eventually your anger relents, mood changing as swiftly as the tide. You spend the time they have left learning about the men he's chosen as his hoard. Kyle's a bit weary of you just due to his harpy nature, but soon enough you two can be found sitting on the pier and fishing, and if you purposely make the waves flow so a big fish snags on Kyle's line, Price never says anything about it, not when his boy has a smile as big as the sun when he looks at the gigantic fish flopping on his hook.

You attempting to help Soap cook the barbeque, but you're fine motor skills are rusty after all these years of slumber, so the food is slightly burnt but Price loves when his food's basically charcoal and eats it with a smile, especially as it keeps you from telling all the embarrassing stories you have of him, from when he got his ass bit by a squid to when he was so horny he ended up rutting against an extra curvy piece of rock, though the rest have already heard enough dirt to bury him for the next several decades.

Unfortunately for Price, you and Ghost hit it off like a house on fire, and Ghost ends up learning far too many ways to hurt people without killing them that most definitely are against the Geneva conventions but you pull seniority on it. Simon in turn, teaches you how to play cards, which, when you're literally a god that can see almost everything including your opponent's cards, means the shmucks Simon ropes into playing you and Simon end up with empty pockets.

As the sun stars to dip behind the horizon you wind up sitting next to Price by the fire, the others splashing in the water.

You feel his wing spread behind your back to pull you closer to him, "I missed this." He says, knowing you won't comment on the 'I missed you' hidden behind his vellum words.

"Last time we met like this Napoleon was still emperor." You hum, a small yawn escaping you, sharp tips of shark teeth peeking from human gums. "And you had two wings." You can't help but point out, making it clear you've not forgiven him about not informing you.

Price pointedly ignores your later comment, his hand tentatively, almost shyly, reaching down to sit on top of yours. "Afraid I'll forget about you?"

His pulse picks up when you shift your hand to hold his, fingers lacing together when you don't have a tail as a human. "You wait for me." You shrug, holding your free arm up, reality wheezing for a few moments before his scale is suddenly in your hand, shiny and unharmed just as it was when he'd given it to you all those years ago. "And I dream of you."

His eyes widen and heart melts, a purr rumbling in his chest "C'mere sweetheart," He rumbles and pulls you into a kiss, free hand holding your chin stable.

You taste of salt and blood, of chilling cold and boiling heat, of something ancient and familiar and Price drinks it all down like a babe, tongue licking in your mouth and fangs nibbling on your lip, feeling you respond, the touch of hungering god as soft as silk, just to him.

But he knows this won't last.

A shark has no reason to stay on land, and a dragon can't survive underwater regardless of how much he wants. Soon you'll return to slumber, and Price won't know when he'll see you again, if he'll see you again, or if you'll learn of his passing when your waves swallow up his ashes.

He doesn't notice the prickling in his eyes but you do, wiping a stray tear with the pad of your thumb, your other hand still wrapped around his. "Don't worry John," You say, statue features finally cracking into a small smile, "I'll stay for a little while." You say and lead him into another kiss, the other members of TF141 leaving you two to catch up on lost time...

[dutiful-wildcraft]

Pack 141 - Werewolf!Price Headcanons

Tags: monster au, sfw, werewolf!price, mentions of gore and body horror, loose a/b/o dynamics, possessiveness, scent marking, fluff, werewolf lore sprinkled with pack 141 interactions

-A born lycan. The shift was as natural as breathing. And he quickly showed the temperment of an alpha.

-Shifts to the outsider can appear gruesome. As the wolf quite literally emerges from within, human flesh falling away like a gristly chrysalis to reveal the beast beneath. Traditionally, this shed flesh would be devoured, though it isn't commonly practiced today. The flesh disintegrates quite quickly once shed.

-This being said Price can shift in degrees, often enhancing his own claws or teeth for defensive purposes rather than shift completely. 

-No, the clothes do not magically pop back on once he's done. Shifting completely is inconvenient and typically a last resort. It's difficult to strip in the middle of a fire fight, let alone find his tac bag stark naked after it's all said and done.

-For born wolves, this shift is generally smooth and quick. For those bitten, it is this first shift that often leads to their death. Around 75% of those bitten do not have the bodily fortitude to withstand the change.

-as a born wolf, Price's enhanced senses are also perfectly integrated, and require no sensory aids for him to navigate his daily life unlike the majority of bitten wolves.

-born wolves have a tendency to remain in seclusion, within the safety and comfort of their pack. When a new alpha is born they typically either stay to take over leadership, or stake out a new territory to build their own pack.

-John was quickly ostracized when he showed little interest in either of those things. He seemed to be far more preoccupied with exploring both the world and his own strength. The military amongst the humans would do quite nicely.

-During his tours there would be fleeting encounters with other monsters, typically enemies. But a few comrades as well. Such as Nikolai, a bear shifter. The pair of lycans got along beautifully.

-Now, despite his former pack's opinions of him, John had never explicitly said he didn't want a pack, just not their version of a pack. No. John had a different idea in mind.

-Simon was the first. A strong and brutal human, who had shown an endearing gentleness in certain circumstances. Price had decided immediately that Simon would belong to him. He just needed some final paper work to build his pack task force. He had even settled on changing Simon himself, despite the risks. A bloody vampire had beaten him to it. Price was hardly angry that Simon's humanity was taken from him, just that Simon had to suffer in such a way to get there. At least Price had the pleasure of siring the newborn himself.

-Next had been Soap. A wiley thing with a blatant disregard for orders and big blue eyes that were far too pretty to be all human. Price couldn't decide if he should scruff or praise him for his cheek. But Soap had an excellent knack for mixing things that should absolutely not work, into something that would cave a warehouse in seconds. Along with a distinct aversion to touching certain metals with his bare hands. His peculiarities had earned him a nickname, and also given him away as a Fae. Price would have him too.

-Garrick followed not long after. Sharp and driven Gaz. Incredibly clever with a proud determination that blazed behind those warm brown eyes. Gaz's skills made his inner wolf purr in delight.  Another lovely thing for him to keep. Price was taken with him immediately, and had never felt more at ease than with the sergeant he had stolen in Piccadilly. 

-While he could tell from Kyle's scent that he was something Other. Price would only receive cryptic answers or riddles that only made the younger sergeant chuckle as Price failed to guess correctly. (Price would totally not make up excessively silly answers to see the sergeants pretty smile, oh no).

-It wouldn't be until they were stranded in an excessively hot desert that Gaz would reveal himself. Price had emerged from their tent to see Garrick, posted up like it was summer vacation, with a brilliant golden wing curled over his head to shade him from the sun. A long tufted tail flickering back and forth out of a small cut in his fatigues. Gaz had looked up from his book, golden slitted eyes peering over his aviators. Flashed him a toothy grin. “Wanna make another guess Cap?”

-Price has a vicious possessive streak, and he plays it incredibly carefully in the beginning of the task force. He watches his vocabulary when talking about the “team.” His pack. Perfect, strong and beautiful. All of them. Chosen carefully.  He was careful not to spook them at first, worried his possessive language would put them off.  But they are, for all intents and purposes, his.

-His possessiveness had manifested subtly at first. Scent marking them. Brushing shoulders or gentle touches as he passed them. He would even resort to smoking beside them if touching seemed out of the question. At least his smoke would soak into their clothes and hair.

-As they fell together it became less subtle. Price couldn't resist sinking his teeth into their flesh as they writhed beneath him. Suck bruises along whatever flesh he could get his mouth on. It was a pro and a con that his boys all healed so well. While his marks did not remain for long, it meant he could only mark them up sooner. 

-He loves that their scents all intermingle, really. But he can be stubbornly adamant that his scent is the most notable. Often catching Soap or Gaz to tug into his office, kissing the breath out of them, only to curtly send them back out, freshly scented and a bit dazed. It's a fair compromise considering Simon often hogs the sergeants to himself.

-Simon often seeks him out of his own volition. Coming to his office to sit quietly, work on his own reports and bask in Price's scent of spilled ink and warm honey. Or sneaking to his room in the night. Slipping off the mask to bury his nose against his throat. No biting. Just breathing. His scent a balm to the younger vampires frayed nerves. 

-Price takes an immense amount of pride in caring for his pack, and takes his job seriously in protecting and providing. Gets immensely distraught when one of his mates is hurting. Knowing no limits in showering them in comfort items and love. 

[bluegiragi]

I'm not sure how I found your account but I have loved all of your creations. They have fueled my hyper-fixation for Call of Duty.

When it comes to your Monster au, are there any characteristics from the team that you see them having that you haven't been able to draw out in a storyline?

that's such a good question omg...it'd probably be all the ways that the 141 grew up.

(warning - lots of reading under the cut)

Price is a dragon hybrid, which means that historically his kind has not had amazing relationships with humans or each other. Close-knit dragon communities are still really rare, since instinctively they're extremely territorial and require space to themselves and a way to assert their own strength and hoard. But, sort of by government mandate, dragons need to keep within designated areas in case they accidentally torch a human city y'know. So he did grow up in a colony, but all the families there tended to keep to themselves, exempting mating season and the occasional territory fight. He left to join the military when he was pretty young, all things considered, and I think he did it mainly out of boredom. They were happy to have him of course - dragons are massive powerhouses with long lifespans, and very rare in their ranks (they dislike being ordered around). Price would like to think he's destined for a quiet life, but his job really let him wreak havoc and he took pleasure in indulging that primal urge of his. He grew out of that destructive phase though - nowadays, his priorities consist of taking care of his team.

--

Soap is a werewolf, which is a monster that subscribes to the 'it-takes-a-village' kind of mentality for raising a child. The Mactavishes are an average werewolf pack, with Soap, his parents, his grandparents, and his two sisters (one older, and one younger). Wolves are social creatures, but the older generation likes to stay within their own kind, if only for safety reasons. Soap's always been a go-getter though, so joining the military for a chance to see more of the world just made sense to him. Full-blooded werewolves are pretty sought after in the ranks, but they're a relatively newblood kind of monster. Superiors will often do their best to tame wolves and bring them to heel, with differing levels of success. If you win their loyalty, they're yours for life, but do them wrong and the pack will turn on you. Because of that danger of mutiny, officials will tend to keep it to one werewolf a team, despite them being stronger together.

--

Harpies are typically solitary and aren't very present parents, since they'll raise their children until they're 16 then dump them somewhere and tell them to survive. It sounds ruthless to most, but it's just how their culture is and it's how Gaz grew up. He's a resourceful type, and joined the military as soon as he could. Harpies are actually one of the more common monsters used in the forces, since their eyesight and wings make for pretty amazing scouting forces/snipers. In saying that though, there's no automatic comradery to be found between two harpies on the same team - in fact, they'll usually be combative at worst and cold/distant at best. Historically, harpies have found pride in their own independence, so being forced to interact/work together can be seen as an insult. Gaz himself is pretty charismatic and cool-headed, but even he'd get irritated if he was forced to share space with another harpy. He was shipped around between teams a lot as a lead sniper before he got promoted and met Price.

--

Simon is a wraith, but before that he was a normal human, if a bit freakishly strong. His time in the military was an escape from his home life, and after he became a wraith, that distance between himself and the human world only grew. Not a lot is known about wraiths, because the only way you'd be able to study one is if they let you and wraiths are inherently extremely private creatures with a tendency for extreme bursts of violence. They're also almost impossible to catch/imprison, so Simon's an asset the military is determined to hold onto.

[ghcstao3]

Born!werewolf soap and Turned!Werewolf Simon.

Simon was turned into a werewolf during his time with Roba, tied to a man so horrible he never associated lycanthropy with anything but pain, and lack of control. It only ever reminds him of a time when he was always hungry for affection, yet violent without it. He never shifts without choosing to, and purposely ignores his needs as long as he can, until it’s debilitating.

Soap who has been a werewolf his whole life, knows his pack’s history like the back of his hand. He’s extremely attuned to his instincts, and to other wolves. It’s almost more comfortable for him to be a wolf, than go through the pain of humanities stiffness.

Them finding eachother and hurt/comfort <3

Initially, upon meeting Ghost, Soap is more than glad to finally have the opportunity to work with another werewolf, let alone one known for his skill, his precision, his deadliness—but then Soap is just as soon finding out that there's far more than meets the eye about Ghost's own condition.

Ghost, like most werewolves, was born human. There's a faint but distinct smell about him that tells Soap this, and initially, it's really no concern of his. Outside of his family, most other werewolves Soap had encountered in his life were turned at one point or another.

What separates Ghost from them, however, as Soap soon figures it out—is that Ghost never shifts. Not unless he has to, anyway. And that makes Soap curious more than anything.

Because shifting is such an integral part to being a werewolf. It's natural, freeing, and it's one of Soap's favourite things. It's a new kind of powerful that's so important and special to a werewolf, that Soap could never understand why Ghost would ever want to stave off such a thing. And being that Ghost is so tight-lipped about his own life, Soap has no idea where to begin guessing.

It isn't until months of knowing each other that Soap starts to get a hint.

The mission is tough. The team is in a tight spot, and only Soap's claws and teeth and strength aren't proving to be enough. So with a look Soap can't quite decipher, Price pleads silently with Ghost to do the one thing they all know he hates.

But because it's necessity, Ghost follows through. Soap should have clocked something was wrong in hearing pained groans and too-loud cracks of shifting bones, but he can't do anything to stop it. Can only watch as Ghost is released and begins a massacre, and Soap can only trail behind to pick off stragglers.

Once everything is said and done—it takes an hour to find Ghost, who had taken on the unfortunate task of shifting back alone, and who is discovered curled up and staring ahead at nothing in a far corner of one of the warehouses they'd been assigned to raid.

He bares his teeth when Price moves to approach him, a low growl rumbling out of his throat. Price pauses and glances back to Soap, whose hesitant attempt is met with no protest.

Huh.

That distant look still glazes over Ghost's eyes, though the fog clears ever-so slightly when his attention is called to Soap sitting beside him. Where Soap feels more alive than ever after a shift, Ghost looks... small. Afraid.

Hurt.

Soap begins to suspect the circumstances of his turning had been less than favourable, and his heart breaks with that realization.

Ghost, as touch averse as Soap has known him to be, tucks into Soap's side without prompting, leeching off his warmth and comfort while, in witnessing the scene, Price and Gaz turn and head out to meet exfil and explain the situation.

Whatever had happened to Ghost to have his shifts be this way—Soap determines then, in that very moment, that once they're back to safety and Ghost is back within himself, Soap is going to find a way to help him make peace with this inescapable part of his being. He'll find a way to turn bad into good, or neutral, at the very least, because Ghost doesn't deserve to be a stranger to himself.

Soap will take that pain away if it's the last thing he does. Because he doesn't think he could ever stand seeing Ghost so broken again.

He wraps his arms around Ghost's broad frame and lets the lieutenant bury his face in Soap's chest with a vulnerability Soap only gets to witness as a cause of animalistic instincts still not having worn off. It'll be inevitable, when Ghost comes to only to back off and shut everyone out for a little while, but for now, Soap selfishly indulges in the comfort as much as Ghost needs it.

Soap will make that pain his own, if he has to, he thinks.