the heart that yearns

she/her, 21 years old, mdni, header by@Ajax_Dishsoap_ on twt

[bellaofthevalley]

MASTERPOST

INTRODUCTION:

Hello!! I'm bella (bones or comrade if you come from the other blog) and I hope anyone who comes here enjoys my writing! I'm trying to drag myself out of my current writing block and fears, and this blog will hopefully help with that! <3

ABOUT REQUESTS:

Everyone is welcome to share their thoughts and ideas and brainrots, but I can't really promise I'll always be able to write a full oneshot/drabble, and I hope you all understand. Sorry! I can promise, however, that I'll do my best!

RULES:

Minors do not interact. My content might be suggestive, and I'd prefer not to have any minors on here reading it. If anyone ignores this rule, the consequences are entirely on them and them alone!

I don't write incest, pedophilia, etc, and I will not stand for having any racists or homophobes on my blog.

Aa of right now, I'm only doing Twisted Wonderland, and Genshin drabbles and writing (maybe hsr sometimes too). If anyone has anything to share, pls try keeping it to that fandom. No hate at all I'm just not familiar with most other games and fandoms lol 💀

MASTERLIST:

(I'll decorate this better once I have written more!)

Diasomnia:

Butterfly: imagine being a butterfly fae... (yan)

Savanaclaw:

In Ailment: sickfic

Pomefiore:

Family Ties

[cafekitsune]

PATTERN BANNERS | galaxy.

okey, I love this set so much, I’m so happy with it. I love all things space and stars and galaxy related. I have many colour sets coming so keep an eye out for those ! i really like what i did here ahahahah. 🤍🤍🤍

colours : 001 / 002 / 003 / 004 / 005 / 006 / 007 / 008 / 009

feel free to use; please like, reblog, and credit 〜

support me through ko-fi | more dividers →

[asterdawn026]

( @flankerclinger0a Found these, and immediately thought of the sun!cult au / the star twins / Venus and temple ⭐🌟🌕☀️)

[gomzdrawfr]

PriceGhostWeek Day 5:

Possessive

[sai-int]

i loved those headcanons!! could i maybe request a full drabble of ddlg with simon? 👀

-🐇 (you know who i am)

i hope this is okay!!! simon calls you mama and i'm firm in that belief.

cw : 18+, f!bratty!reader, soft dom!simon, thigh humping, dirty talk, simon 'mama' riley

you've been testing him all day.

it started small—ignoring his texts a little longer than usual, rolling your eyes when he told you to be careful before you went out. Then came the attitude, the clipped responses, the way you huffed when he so much as looked at you too long.

he deciides that maybe he did something wrong—maybe you need some space. he changes his clothes, grabs hus headphones, and goes on a run for two hours. he wracks his mind, thinking of how he could've upset you or what he could've done wrong. truly, he can't figure it out—he just has to hope you'd be willing to talk when he came home.

you're not, and he could see it the second he walked through the door.

the way you're curled up on the couch, arms crossed, lips already pressed into a stubborn little pout. he doesn’t say anything at first, just watches, setting his things down, rolling the tension out of his shoulders.

you don’t look at him. don’t say hi like you normally do, don’t come over and press your face into his chest, wrapping yourself around him like you always do when he comes home.

he sighs.

“what’s this, then?”

you shrug, eyes fixed on the tv. “nothing.”

his head tilts, gaze narrowing slightly. “don’t look like nothin’. been brattin’ all day.”

you don’t answer, but your fingers twitch in your lap, betraying you.

simon hums, slow, thoughtful, toeing off his shoes before crossing the room. when he reaches the couch, he stands in front of you, blocking your view of the tv, looking down at you with an unreadable expression.

“c’mon, mama. out with it."

you scowl, curling in on yourself.

“i said it’s nothing.”

and oh, you’re testing him now, aren’t you?

he exhales slow through his nose, dragging a hand down his face. it’s been a long fucking day, and the last thing he wants to deal with is this little attitude you’ve cooked up for no reason. but he knows you—knows that if you’re acting like this, there is a reason. it's his job to figure it out.

you shift when he stays quiet, gaze briefly flicking up to his before looking elsewhere. he’s still looking at you, gaze heavy, jaw set.

“got somethin’ y'wanna say t'me?”

you swallow, shifting again.

“no.”

he just looks down at you with crossed arms, saying nothing. he knows you'll crack and fess up because you can’t hold out against him forever—you never can—and after another long, unbearable pause, you finally cave.

“just…” you huff, cheeks burning as you look away. “just missed you a lot, is all.”

and there it is. his expression softens—just a little.

“missed me, eh?” his voice is lower now, smoother, the sharp edge fading into something warmer.

you nod, arms still wrapped around yourself. he exhales slow, then reaches down, hooking his fingers under your chin and tilting your face up.

“should’a just said tha’, lovie.”

your lower lip wobbles slightly, and he knows—knows you’ve been wound up too tight, knows you were waiting for him to give you some attention and put you back where you belong.

“c’mere.” he sits on the couch, legs spread wide as he pats his thigh.

you move instinctively, climbing into his lap, pressing your face into the crook of his neck as his arms wrap tight around you.

“there’s m’sweet girl.”

his big hands move slowly, tracing circles into the soft flesh of your thigh, creeping higher, higher. every brush of his fingers against your skin sends a pulse of heat through you, makes you shift in his lap, makes your breath hitch just a little higher in your throat.

he notices, of course.

“what’s wrong, mama?” he rasps in your ear, his voice is all low and teasing, laced with something thick and syrupy, something dangerous. “you’re squirming.”

you make a small, frustrated sound, pressing your face back into his neck, trying to hide—but simon isn’t having that.

his fingers curl around your jaw, tilting your head, forcing you to look at him.

“ah-ah.” his lips just barely graze yours, his breath warm and steady while yours is anything but. “you’re a big girl, hmm? use y’words, tell daddy what y’want.”

your body reacts before your mind can catch up. your hands grip onto his hoodie, your thighs slotting between his, a whimper slipping past your lips as you grind your clothed cunt on his thigh.

“words.” his grip is firm, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thigh, stilling your movements, reminding you who’s in control. his other hand presses against your hip, holding you in place, a low hum vibrating in his chest as he watches you squirm.

your breath stutters, hips twitching beneath his hold. he’s so warm, so solid, the heat of his thigh burning through the thin fabric of your shorts, making your head spin.

“please,” you whisper, barely audible, but he hears it.

his fingers dig in harder.

“please what?”

you whimper, toes curling as his grip tightens, as he leans in closer, lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“y'were bein’ a brat all day, sweetheart. think y'can act up and then get what y'want without askin’ proper?”

your cheeks burn, frustration bubbling in your chest, making you pull at his hoodie, trying to move your hips against him, to chase the friction you need.

your breath comes out in a shaky exhale, your thighs trembling around his.

“please, daddy,” you breathe, voice thin, needy. “wanna feel you, wanna move, please.”

his reaction is instant.

his grip loosens just enough to let you move, to let you grind against him slow and sweet, the firm muscle of his thigh pressing just right against your aching core.

“there’s m'girl,” he murmurs, voice thick with approval, his lips finally brushing against yours—just a ghost of a kiss, just enough to make you whine, to make you chase after him.

his big paws guide your movements, controlling the pace, making sure you feel every little bit of friction, every slow, drawn out drag of fabric against your sopping cunt.

his hands slide up, gripping your waist, helping you move. he shifts beneath you, gripping your hips, dragging you to sit atop his clothed cock.

“fuck, love,” he mutters, his fingers pressing into your skin, voice dropping lower. “y’feel that?”

you do. he's so big and hard beneath you, the heat of him seeping through the fabric, the friction sending sparks through your veins. each little bump of your cunt makes his cock jump—he has to grit his teeth to stop himself from cumming so soon.

“hmm, bet that feels good, doesn't it baby?”

you nod, your breath shuddering as your nails grip onto his strong shoulders. he grins.

“s’cute how shy y’get, can feel y’drippin’ f’me right now.”

his hands slide up, under the hem of your top, his thumbs grazing over your ribs, right beneath your perked tits.

“all that attitude earlier, ‘n now look at you.”

his lips find your jaw, teeth scraping lightly, his hands guiding your hips to grind harder, faster against his cock.

“so fuckin’ sweet when y’where y’belong, huh?”

his voice is rough, hungry, his breath hot against your flushed skin, and when he rocks you down against him again, when you let out the softest little whimper, he groans.

“go on, sweetheart. take what y’need.”

[vampyrsm]

warnings; 18+ MDNI. alpha/beta/omega dynamics, omegaverse etc, mentions of knotting, reader is female/an omega & is referenced to having a pussy lol. mentions of blood, broken noses, sparring etc. 2.4k

Captain John Price is gruff—that's a given any day of the week. He's strict in his command, lenient when the time calls for it but most of all, he's an alpha who sticks to his morals. Most of the time. It's tough, being in the military, especially in charge of a task force filled with other alphas who keep him on his toes even in his older age.

That meant a lot of his 'leave' was just working from home, or being at base off-duty. He never had time to express his... "urges". It was tough at the start of his stint as a Captain but eventually that roaring in his brain quieted down, content to live his life out alone. That didn't mean he didn't have his attention snagged occasionally by an odd omega here and there—they never ventured much on base, often keeping to themselves or the small packs they formed.

So of course, it just had to be one of those days where his grip on his inner urges slipped just a smidgen. He was in the training field, a cleared area for hand-to-hand combat with the outdoor element to either hinder or give advantage to the fighters. His hands were clasped together behind his back, feet spread apart as he stood on the cresting hill that looked over the various groups performing manoeuvres.

Distantly, he can hear Simon barking commands at some poor betas who had the short straw and were being overseen by the overly large alpha. He should be stepping over towards Simon, should be asserting his silent dominance over the alpha in his command to reign it in, cool it before he triggered an incident with someones second gender.

Except, his eyes are locked in like he's staring down the scope of his sniper. He can't move his muscles, his body pulled taut and ready to pounce at a moment's notice. Anyone on the outside would think he's perceived a threat, that the Captain of the 141 was about to unleash his authority on someone. Except, it's quite the opposite.

John can't take his eyes off a fucking omega. His jaw works as he watches them move, their body much more fluid than that of the alpha opponent they've been put up against. Omegas weren't typically known to be on the field, nor were they known to be renowned fighters. But this little omega is seemingly proving everything John seems to know about omegas wrong.

His stomach tightens when they duck beneath a particularly harsh punch, one that's certainly out of regulation—no doubt the alpha they were against was throwing around his weight, trying to assert his place in the second gender hierarchy. But it wasn't working, and that had John's lips twitching beneath the shadow of his moustache into a smirk.

It's unbeknownst to John as his feet start to move for him, taking him down along the slope of the hill until he's close enough to hear the sound of flesh meeting flesh, solid contact that would no doubt leave nasty bruises in the morning. He feels like he's in a trance, eyes of steeled blue tracking each and every smooth roll of the omega's shoulder, how they bounce on their toes and swerve beneath the bulk of the larger male.

He'll blame it on his baser needs later, how he's not had someone in his bed for a very long time—but he can't stop the way his mind drifts. How he knows just from instinct alone that this omega would bend beneath him, mould to his whims and needs, how their flesh would be soft and pliable beneath his large hands, how their pillowy pussy would take his knot—

"You bitch!" The alpha roars in outrage, enough to have John snapping out of his daydreaming and his eyes finally leaving the omega to dart towards the alpha. His lip is busted, a punch he could've swerved if he wasn't posturing like a peacock in front of his mates.

Typically, fights are over the second blood is drawn, it shouldn't have even gotten that far. And he can see the omega respects that rule, because they're lowering their guard and turning on their heel to leave the ring... and it's like he's watching in slow motion as the injured alpha acts on his outrage like a hormonal teenager.

He's lurching forward on the marked-out area for fighting, his boots digging into the mud and he has a single arm launching forward in effort to snag the collar of the omegas shirt.

John's muscles tense once again, shoulders hiking up in anticipation to launch his own fist forward and he's ready for it. He's ready to sink his teeth into the offending alpha, to show them what it means to actually be an alpha—

Except, John doesn't get the chance. It's a whirlwind of movement, someone's body being hit hard enough that the resounding sound has heads snapping in that direction. John only blinks, and the omega is on the alpha; snarling in a way that only omegas can. It's not as threatening as an alpha, nowhere near as authoritative but it has John's toes curling in his combat boots and his second gender rearing its head in anger—anger that someone is upsetting an omega in his presence.

There's a crack, a snapping of bone and that's finally enough for John to act. He launches himself forward, hooking two hands into the armpits of the omega and uses barely any of his strength to lift them off like an offending kitten. And perhaps that's what you are, a hissing and spitting kitten in his hands as you try to stomp on the alpha crumpled on the floor.

"Easy." He grits out between clenched teeth, dragging you back until you're out of the ring completely and away from any further attempts on injuring the alpha further.

He can feel the sweat that had gathered in the cotton of your standard-issued shirt, and it should be enough to tell him to let go... but he can't bring himself to.

Not when he takes a deep breath in, something he refuses to acknowledge as strange, and is knocked back by the scent of an omega brimming with anger; burnt sugar, a bitter smell that cloys in the back of his throat. But there's something beneath it all, a sweeter smell that's cleverly buried beneath all that bubbling anger. It's enough to have his chest threatening to rumble in pleasure.

But John is a trained man, someone in control of his alpha enough to release the grip he has on your body once he deems you both far away enough that you won't immediately bolt back into the action.

He spares a quick glance over towards the alpha, now being surrounded by the officers in charge of the training. He can't help but grimace slightly at what he sees, a broken nose that's splintered and busted enough to already have bruising and blood vessels popping in the younger alpha's eyes. That punch could certainly have killed him if he weren't on grass.

John's attention doesn't stay on the alpha for long, however. His eyes are immediately drawn down towards the omega who's been huffing and puffing at the adrenaline no doubt bouncing around in the aftermath of an unexpected attack. His head tilts just slightly, cataloguing the chance to take a good look at your face up close.

You're pretty. It's the first thing that comes to his mind, very pretty in fact. Pretty in a way that most omegas are, soft and untouched by the harshness of the world—but also pretty in the sense that he wants to stroke his fingers along the edge of your jaw, to brush his lips against your own. He wants to have the chance to study you in the warmth of his bed, to have you hidden away in his very own den where he can map out your face by touch alone.

If anyone notices that he glances further down from your face, no one dares to say a thing. His eyes dance along the lines of your throat, uncovered. Reckless, he wants to bark at you, bare his teeth and show you why you shouldn't be so stupid to have your neck unguarded in such a volatile space. Because what if someone bites you, what if another alpha takes you away from him?

His eye continues downwards despite the bitter taste at the back of his throat, his eyes flit over the curve of your chest. It's hidden mostly by your shirt and no doubt a sports bra beneath, but it's not enough to hide the way your chest rises and falls attractively with each deep inhale you take. Your hands are cradled against your chest, crushing it even further much to his own visual pleasure—...

"You're bleedin'." His voice is gruff, deep and nothing short of a low rumble which has your spine stiffening in remembrance that a high-ranking officer was next to you. His eyes are locked onto the splintered skin of your knuckles, no doubt broken from the force of the punch you'd thrown to send a fully grown adult man to the ground.

Your eyes snap up to his, and John has to plant his heels firmly into the ground to stop himself from leaning forward further into your space. God, your eyes. It's like he's being sucked into a whirlpool, unable to free himself from the siren call that is the little flecks of gold in your eyes that come with your status.

"It's nothing." You speak with conviction, a soldier through and through, not someone to show weakness even despite being naturally known as weak. Yet, despite your words and attempt to hold yourself strong, your hand trembles in the hold you have on yourself.

He moves before he can stop himself, one large hand coming forth to carefully pry your hand free from your own grasp. He expects you to react with teeth bared and claws poised, but you don't fight him. You only keep your eyes locked with his own, like a cat who is testing the waters to see if they can trust the human in front of them.

It warms his blood to have his hands directly on your flesh, the tips of his fingers brushing against the small gland on your inner wrist. You shiver, and there's a sheen that washes over your eyes—turns your gaze from hardened distrust to innocently doe-eyed, and you keep your focus completely on him as he extends your arm slowly in his direction.

"Doesn't look like nothin'." His eyes finally break the prolonged contact, immediately locating the open and cracked flesh. It's bleeding profusely, wrapping around his own fingers as he adjusts his grip from your wrist to your palm. "Broken, at least two knuckles I reckon."

"Didn't know Captain's were nurses too." You gripe back, and it's enough to have his eyes flitting up to stare at you through his lowered brows. You're a spitfire, a pretty omega with a mouth on her. It has his blood near boiling, he wants to show you what a little bit of backchat will get you.

"Cheeky, aren't ya?" He huffs instead, voice laced with amusement. He turns your hand over carefully, inspecting the skin on your palm and fingers. Everything seemed fine, and would remain that way if you got to the medical wing fast enough. Your scent flushes into something sinfully beautiful, a sweetness tinged with embarrassment at being called out on your mouthy nature.

"Sorry, sir." You drop your eyes to the ground, and it has a tiny part of his brain roaring in victory of subduing the rowdy omega. He wants to grin, flash his sharp teeth in your direction but instead he settles on gently placing your hand back into your own grasp.

"Get to medical, private. I'll see you after for a full report on what happened here." John has to tuck his hands into his pockets lest he grabs at you again, tucks you into his side and marches you to medical himself.

You drop back a step, falling into the stance that's been drilled into you for a while. before muttering a "Yes sir." You're off before he can do anything stupid, like squirrel you away in his den and bathe in your scent. He watches you go, eyes drifting low to watch the width of your hips—and the sway of your ass.

Oh, the things he'd love to do to you. How he'd love to have you bent over his desk, his bed, fuck—even on the floor. On your hands and knees, presented so beautifully for him and begging to be knotted. He'd give it to you, without a shadow of a doubt, he'd knot you if you even hinted at the idea. His stomach tenses at the anticipation of seeing you again later, where he's away from prying eyes and in the safety of his own office.

Would you be more open to his advances in private? Or are you someone who's going to have the Captain chasing you around like some love-sick pup? Either way, he's going to sink his fingers into you, perhaps even his teeth into the softness of your neck. His alpha rumbles in his chest at the idea—he'd like that, a pretty omega who can not only hold herself well in a fight but gives him enough lip back to satisfy his urge to dominate.

A throat clears next to him, and it's only the years upon years of service that stops John from jumping in surprise at the sound. His head, however, snaps in the direction of the sound. Simon is stood next to him, balaclava obscuring most of his features yet it doesn't stop John from noticing the slightly crinkle in the corner of his eyes and the slight lift to the mask around his mouth.

"What is it, Simon?" He grumbles, already knowing from the hint of amusement on Simon's face that he must've been caught staring.

"Nothin'." Simon responds, crossing his arms over his chest. But John knows Simon isn't done, he loves to draw his victims in with a false sense of security. "So when's the wedding?"

"Fuck off."

[bellaofthevalley]

Oh my god. Oh my god?? This. This is so fucking good oh my god op this is amazing. Phenomenal holy shit

[quarterlifekitty]

Very much inspired by this post by @dante-mightdie as well as their lowselfesteem!reader series

Alpha!John Price who’s trying so desperately to court and mate Omega!reader, despite your best efforts at rejecting him.

It’s not that you don’t want him. That’s what makes this so damned frustrating for him. You do want him— but you don’t think you’re good enough. You have a weak scent that’s hard to parse. You struggle to slick up, even when you’re turned on. You don’t think you’re attractive, and you find it hard to talk to people. But the very worst part, the thing that keeps you so adamant?

You think you’d be a terrible mother. You’ve struggled so much and for so long— you can’t imagine being able to support another little human being. You know how important pups are to John— you won’t weigh him down and take those dreams from him.

But John sees a side of you that you don’t. He sees the way you delicately prune and water your plants. How you put all of your plushies back on the bed in the morning. How you put others before yourself. You’re so naturally nurturing and you have no idea.

He loves your scent. It’s so subtle, like a little secret— something only he gets to know by being close. You’ve let him spend his rut with you before— and he loves giving your pussy all the time and attention and petting she needs to start leaking honey onto his fingers and tongue. He thinks you’re agonizingly beautiful, like the sun coming through stained glass. He loves when you curl into him for shelter when someone unfamiliar is around.

So he’ll keep chipping away at that protective shell of yours until you’re ready to let him slip inside to hold you

[gothghostiie]

ur blog is literally making feral for big strong men…

anyways

thoughts on bratty reader w one of the 141 (or all lmao) and being punished w pussy spanking (and squirting if you’re feelin it 🤭)

as it should bestie

cw: poly!141, pussy spanking, squirting, fem!gn!reader

poor thing, you didn't expect them to team up after being a brat all day :( ordered into price's office and suddenly held down in a full Nelson by ghost in his laps, the other's circling around with disapproving looks and you just know what's coming:((

gaz is the first one, slapping your poor pussy but stopping to play with it every now and then, spreading your slick all over it before price goes next:( he's so mean, calloused hands n thick fingers spanking your pussy harshly, it's already so red n puffy by the time he lets ghost take over. ghost reaches over your shoulder to keep you in place, his big hand crashing down on your cunt until it gets tired. soap's the last one, he's mean and giving rapid small slaps, spreading your pussy lips apart to hit your clit over and over again until you finally squirt :(

the boys all grin and chuckle, watching you make a wet mess all over, teasing you and telling you to think twice before being such a brat next time, all while their hands are all over you to soothe you:((

[secretlysimpash]

Okay but being Price's wife and the Task Force treating you like part of the family team.

Price being on a video call with the Task Force, and you laying your head in his lap. They don't know that you're there until Gaz casually asks how the missus is...To which you poke your head up from Price lap and answer for yourself. This is met with Soap and Gaz excitedly greeting you, while Ghost just waves and greets you in a tone that's gentler than his usual one.

Or calling Price while he's with the guys, and he tries to excuse himself but the guys have him put you on speaker so they can all say hello too, their voices honestly drowning his out.

Whenever you go to the base, the guys are like your personal bodyguards...Or like three unruly dogs that follow you like lost puppies. Whenever Price sees the Sergeants flanking you while Ghost leads so he can open doors for you, he can't help but smile.

The boys grin and giggle like kids whenever you kiss Price, just acting surprisingly childish for grown men who are usually more serious.

They're also the biggest helps in the kitchen, because yes they're invited over for dinner after successful missions. Kyle helps with the actual cooking process, Johnny's the official tester (has kicked yours and Price's dog out of the kitchen so he could take its place), and Simon is always helping with the dishes.

And when you announce that you're expecting? Do NOT expect any of those men to be normal about it. They're the official babysitters and bodyguards, they want that baby to know their names before its even BORN.

You married Price, but they're kind of a package deal.

[dutiful-wildcraft]

Life's Sweet Bells

A COD Farm Sim AU with some omegeverse splashed in!

Meet the Town!

John Soap Mactavish - Clean and green, with a scent like shortbread and rose,  you can see how the wiley alpha Soap got his nickname. Soap runs the neighboring livestock farm. Soap specializes in critters big and small, from velvety eared rabbits to towering horses. He prides himself in his work, and his animals usually run best in show for the town's yearly festivals. When not at the farm, Soap can be seen chatting it up at the blacksmith's or having an evening pint at the inn. With a friendly smile and sunkissed skin, could Soap be your first friend??

John Price. Or rather Captain, formerly. John is an alpha that once ran the town's mines with a tight efficiency. Slaying the monsters therein and emerging with jewels and ores a plenty. Since the town's devastating earthquake the mines have since been closed. John stubbornly remains, clearing the mines on his own. Though his ink and coffee scent permeates the artifacts wing of the local museum, a responsibility he shares  with Alex. John is considered an expert in monsters and hidden treasures. During down time John is down at the docks with Farah and Nik.

Simon Ghost Riley. Formerly Price's right hand in the mines, and now the town's blacksmith, Ghost stands tall and aloof. Pale arms lined with scars, and soot stained fingertips. Some say his room is lined with awards for his craft. Ghost can make anything, and is responsible for a lot of specialty items for the whole village, special swords and crossbows for Price. Stronger tools and equipment for Gaz. He doesn't say much to you when you show up, and you assume the mask is to protect his face, though he never takes it off.  What's more odd is the syrupy sweet scent buried under all the brimstone. 

Kyle Gaz Garrick. Kyle is a master of his craft and does the bulk of the repairs and renovations around the village. (As well as some of its more charming cosmetics) With the help of Ghost and Price, Gaz is slowly but surely piecing the town back together after the earthquake. Kyle is renown in town for his delicate work and eye for detail. Despite popular beliefs Kyle is a calm and laid back Alpha, with a fresh and citrusy scent that's almost hypnotic. Kyle is one of the first to come to the new farm, providing a few extra tools he had laying around to help you get started. He's ecstatic to have a new face around town!

Nikolai? Nobody seems to know his last name, but he seems to be well liked in town. Nikolai was once a traveling merchant, never staying in one place for too long. He made his way by selling rare and unique wares. Since the earthquake the alpha has settled in town on a more permanent basis. Nik now runs a beautifully crafted bathhouse so those hard workers of the village can rest their weary bones, while still having a handful of new and rare items to sell each week. There seems to be more to the alpha that meets the eye. 

Kate Laswell. Kate is the town physician. A no nonsense beta who is chronically scraping townsfolk off the ground when they fail to take care of themselves properly. She's lovely, but so very tired. When Kate isn't at the clinic she assists her wife with running the inn. 

Farah is a fisherman extraordinaire, and has been a godsend with getting supplies in and out of the village while the bridges were out. While Farah doesn't brag, tales of her adventures are written on the scars on her toned tanned arms. While goods and services aren't her day to day now, Farah still heads out on her boat each day with Alex in tow.

Alex is responsible for a bulk of the collections at the museum, and when he's not there, he helps Farah out on the docks. In his downtime Alex writes stories down on the well worn pages of his journal. Harrowing tales of a strong and fearless pirate who saves the day again and again. So what if the long braided heroin resembles someone familiar?

(Not sure how deep in the weeds i'll go with this, but I'm having fun, I would love to make it a little series)

[secretlysimpash]

Okay but being Price's wife and the Task Force treating you like part of the family team.

Price being on a video call with the Task Force, and you laying your head in his lap. They don't know that you're there until Gaz casually asks how the missus is...To which you poke your head up from Price lap and answer for yourself. This is met with Soap and Gaz excitedly greeting you, while Ghost just waves and greets you in a tone that's gentler than his usual one.

Or calling Price while he's with the guys, and he tries to excuse himself but the guys have him put you on speaker so they can all say hello too, their voices honestly drowning his out.

Whenever you go to the base, the guys are like your personal bodyguards...Or like three unruly dogs that follow you like lost puppies. Whenever Price sees the Sergeants flanking you while Ghost leads so he can open doors for you, he can't help but smile.

The boys grin and giggle like kids whenever you kiss Price, just acting surprisingly childish for grown men who are usually more serious.

They're also the biggest helps in the kitchen, because yes they're invited over for dinner after successful missions. Kyle helps with the actual cooking process, Johnny's the official tester (has kicked yours and Price's dog out of the kitchen so he could take its place), and Simon is always helping with the dishes.

And when you announce that you're expecting? Do NOT expect any of those men to be normal about it. They're the official babysitters and bodyguards, they want that baby to know their names before its even BORN.

You married Price, but they're kind of a package deal.

[gilduii]

mail order bride by @bi-writes + a shout out to the kitties who didn't quite make it past the sketching phase

[willgrahamscock]

I cannot believe there's absolutely no way to watch free shows and movies anymore, there are too many paid streaming platforms and pirating websites have viruses and ads preventing you from watching it uninterrupted((.)) id rather follow the rules and purchase media moving forward because it is too inconvenient. Seriously, free and no ads or viruses with 1080p streaming is DEAD.

[part-time-zombie]

Exactly! It's freaking annoying when I want to watch movies but I would have to subscribe to like 24 different services . Just to watch the shows that I like.

[someones-here-for-sure]

Oh and wouldn’t it be nice for cartoons? Just anything animated. I just wanna stream things without getting conned. Must I be cartoonless forever?

[tinypaperwindmill]

i like using streaming apps but there are waaaay too many and they're all stealing my data .i wish there was a secure and organized way to have millions of shows and movies available one one app. but alas. we've truly gone full circle back to cable + now it spies on you. its a real shame. i dont want to fill my device storage with tons of boring and stupid cash grabs.

[quarsonist]

i know, it's so annoying for everything to be paid nowadays, especially movies and tv shows. it would be perfect if i could watch them without getting infected by some virus or some shit. i'm fine with ads, they gotta run themselves somehow, but i want to watch stuff and .live! if they have to use different domains i'm okay with that too, because free media is .top dog either way.

[shadowsfavlatina]

for mobile users, it especially sucks, because you can't just use websites and you have to not only pay, but you have to download a billion apps just to find what the thing you wanna watch is on. it doesn't help that the streaming services take up...so much space. so much.

[comesatimecomesashadow]

wintery night w/ yan!capitano

・❥・

the snow outside fell gracefully, the wind carrying the small white particles with little to no effort as the blizzards of Snezhnaya went on. the cold reached the inside of the manor even though the windows blocked the brunt of the eternal winter from you. at times, it was easy to get lost in the eternal snow. especially when you were not used to so much of this weather.

as you gazed out of the window, parting the long, navy curtains just a little to peak outside at the blizzard, your husband stood at the doorway of the ballroom. he would often find you here in silence, he figured that maybe it helped you cope.

but he could be selfish at times, like now.

"Dove." he addressed, his voice oddly soft but still stern. you, however, paid him no mind and kept your gaze on the outside of the window. "What is it? .. Do you need something?" reluctantly, you shifted your gaze from the blizzard, to the storm in your own life — your husband.

though.. nowadays he seemed more like a refuge than a storm. but you had yet to give in.

the harbinger walked into the ballroom towards you. his footsteps on the lacquered wooden floor resounded throughout the room. a year ago you would have stepped back, this time you found yourself almost anxious to be in his arms.

"You've been distant as of late." your husband was never one to beat around the bush. like his sword, his words pierced any and all doubt from your mind. "Are you perhaps missing Natlan?"

with a sigh, you glanced back at the snow outside. such a lonely sight.. "It is much colder here.. I am unfamiliar with it." being the observant man he was — and your husband as well — he knew your words had more meaning than you led on.

"if you are cold, you need only come to me for warmth. for i shall provide you with any and everything you desire." his words were like obsidian. unbreakable, completely trustworthy. in just a short year of his life, he managed to make himself seem reliable, despite the fact that you very well knew the truth of who he was.

but in this lavish prison, who else were you to rely on — if not your very own captor-turned-husband? who else was supposed to tend to your every ailment and whisper words of reassurance when you felt hopeless? who else was to be the fire that cradled your shivering form as you struggled in this foreign environment?

who else was to soothe the aches of your heart..?

capitano could sense your resignation. it had been a long time coming, he was starting to wonder just when exactly you would give in and change the way you viewed him. reluctantly, you stepped away from the window, the navy curtains closing as you made your way to him.

without a word, he welcomed you into his arms. you laid your head against his chest as he cradled you in his warm embrace. his arms were less like a rope that suffocated you and more like the inviting arms of a husband concerned for his lover.capitano had been waiting for this moment, he had been patient in his pursuits. and as the saying went: good things did in fact come to him. for the first time, you returned his embrace and he could feel the way your body craved him.

his warmth. his touch.

capitano held you close and softly ran his hand over your hair while holding you. "i will be your warmth in the blizzard, i shall never leave you." with these words, you found yourself almost able to drift off the sleep in his arms.

while his touch consumed you, like a fire to a field of grass, you found yourself forgetting about the blizzards outside. suddenly, they didnt matter as much. they faded to the dark corners of your mind..

where you would never once think of them again.

・❥・m.list

(sorry im making so many drabbles im 2 tired to make an actual post TwT)

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Simon knocked but didn't wait for Price to answer before he barrelled into his office. Four heavy footfalls carried him over to the desk on which he dumped an open parcel.

"Wossis?"

"Good fuckin' evenin' to you too," Price grumbled as he threw his biro down and leaned forward to peer into the brown packaging.

It was a small hamper of teas from Whittards of Chelsea, a flat cap and a Barbour scarf, all wrapped up in neat brown paper. Price reached for the label on the side and turned it over to see 'Simon' written in a neat hand he would recognise anywhere.

Price grinned crookedly as he slumped back in his chair, hands folded over his belly. "S'a gift, Simon. He's courtin' ya. This," he gestured vaguely at the hamper, "is what he does."

Simon stared at Price intensely for a long moment, both palms planted on the desk like they were pouring over a particularly difficult blueprint, and then back down at the collection of items. "A flat cap," he said, finally. "Is he takin' the piss?"

"S'the accent. You sound like ya up at Billingsgate for five every mornin'. Probably figured you had a few knockin' about."

Simon's eyes narrowed on Price, gauging him for sincerity. Broad shoulders squared as he straightened, thick arms folding over his chest as his chin tucked down. "Wot does he expect in return? I already bend over fer him."

"Nothin'. Least nothin' he's ever asked me for an' he's been doin' this t' me for years, even before it all became official."

"Hm."

"If you don't like 'em--"

"I like 'em."

"Then stop bein' a grumpy cunt and get outta my office, 'm busy."

Simon gathered his gifts up, turned to leave, and then doubled back to rub his masked face over Price's beard, scenting him, before finally departing. Price shook his head, muttering something about fuckin' alphas and betas and their bullshit, and returned to work. If he was smiling quietly for the rest of the shift, then that was nobody's business but his.

Two days later, Nikolai stepped into Price's flat to pick them up for dinner and Price watched him puff up, his face lighting up with a smile as he looked past Price's shoulder.

Simon, who had been looking for some cologne in the bedroom moments before, stepped out with his scarf wrapped around his neck and the lower half of his face, flat cap pulled down low.

"I am glad you like them," Nik said softly to Simon after he had scented Price.

"They're olrigh'," Simon murmured, fixing Nik with his standard level stare. Nik chuckled, bumping his forehead into Simon's jaw, Simon leaned in with a soft chuff, letting Nik scent him, and Price just felt all sorts of warm and fuckin' squishy on the inside watching the two men he loved deepen their bond.

[yagiichan]

cod x fem!reader EDC Week

cod x fem!reader

cod members reaction to you when they first see you out of your tactical gear, and you’re actually dressed up for EDC.

Warning: mentions of smut, 18+ Minors DNI, language. Mentions of breeding.

A/N: EDC literally just happened in my city, and I’ve been into the COD x reader stories recently. It’s not going to be anything impressive, but I hope ya’ll like it. Again, this is my HC for whatever reason. IDK, I don’t really make sense to myself neither, so don’t @ me. :3 This is also my first time posting on tumblr, so please be nice.

FYI I do not know a whole lot of lore, I’m just here for the fun of it, so please do not flame me for any inaccurate/unplausible storytelling I am about to convey.

P.S. I drew the design of the dress, but I referenced an image on pinterest. I apologize as I do not know the original artist for the figure.

----------------------------

Chatter amongst the operatives broke out, as everyone began filing out of the room, from another long debriefing. You were new to the squad, and just barely began speaking to anyone. Layered in heavy combat armor, and face covered with a balaclava and dark round shades every time you’re on base. You don’t like it when people gawk at you, especially when conducting professional business.

You find it easier when you’re covered up. People treated you like a normal soldier, rather than a piece of meat. Though, doesn’t really stop the flirtatious comments coming from your companions.

Soap would linger sometimes, making fun little passes, “What’ve you got hidin’ under there, bird?” You’d laugh him off and just tell him nothing he’d be interested in. He’d quip back “Bet there’s loads I can find interesting, dove…” You continue to laugh, making your way down the dim hallway. The other members, following behind. Gaz would chime in with a “knock-it-off” comment every now and then, but he was just as curious how you’d look too.

Pretty much, everyone has seen one another, considering how long they’ve been enlisted together, so it’s no surprise that fresh meat would immediately attract the attention of wolves.

Ghost, Konig, and Horangi followed from behind, watching you laugh.

“What’s the fresh meat good at anyways?” Ghost asked nonchalantly. Horangi shrugged his shoulders, with a soft “mm-mm”. Konig shook his head at the both of them “Hand-to-hand combat and reconnaissance. Apparently, she’s managed to close the distance on the Captain and threw him straight into the wall.” Ghost scoffed, attempting to burn a hole in the back of your skull. “She is? Look at her” he pointed with his chin, “A literal fuckin’ gnome is what she is.” Horangi chortled a little bit, Konig staying silent.

Price picking up on their conversation, cleared his throat, “You’ll see in due time lads. Someone like that can be the least expected.”

“So, since it’s the start of the weekend why don’t we start with a bang and head down to the pub for a fill?”

 Soap suggested eagerly. The week prior had been incredibly taxing, so everyone was privy to the idea, besides you.

“Oh, no, I’m sorry. I’ve actually got plans this weekend,” you sheepishly laughed. Soap whined, prodding you on what your plans are. You didn’t budge, only that it was already planned some time ago and you can’t miss you. Despite the constant badgering, Soap deflated in defeat, as Gaz patted his back. Despite the initial rejection, Soap bounced back almost immediately.

Chatting away with you, talking about coming out with them another time. You laughed along, apologizing that you couldn’t attend now, but promised to meet in the future.

Making your way towards your apartment complex on base, you noticed everyone else also shuttling into the freight elevator with you. You tilted your head in confusion, queueing Price,

“Well, we all share the same apartment complex. Compliment of the base we currently reside on. Wants to make sure we’re on the ready for when things go down.”

 You slowly nodded in understanding. You clicked your floor number, 10 and noticed that nobody else clicked a floor number besides 14. You looked at Price again, who sheepishly explained that squads are assigned to their own floors. That, since you’re now part of their operation, you’ll probably need to get the changes made soon.

“S’pparently supposed to bring us ‘closer’, build a bond with one another?”

You hummed in acknowledgement, thinking it was cute, “Yeah, I suppose it makes sense.” Chatter continued, until you reached your floor. Getting off, you said your goodnights to everyone. Soap continued to moan, hoping to get a glimpse of you at some point. Gaz agreeing, and Price chuckling at them.

The brooding bunch discussed themselves the best bar to pick from for the night. As the elevator finally reached their floor Soap clapped his hands together “Welp! How’s bout we all meet up again in an hour aye? Freshen up a lil bit. Maybe catch us a pretty bird tonight,” wiggling his eyebrows with the suggestion.

Sighing at Soap’s obvious desperation everyone agreed to meet in the hallway before heading down to the pub.

“Right! Now, let’s get this party started!” Soap howled, looking like he pregame’d before meeting up with the crew.

Everyone had transferred themselves into fresher clothing, finally peeling away the grime of the week. Excitement slowly brews in the group as they can finally wind down for the weekend. Although everyone had changed into more comfortable attire, the three brooding bunch kept their visages concealed.  All members shuffling into the freight elevator, chattering happily amongst themselves.

As the freight elevator begins its slow descent towards the ground floor, it suddenly stops at floor 10. Voices begin to hush as the door slowly slides open, revealing a woman with a high slit dress, stopping at the waist. Four thin black bands wrapped around strong thighs.

Her upper torso covered with black cloth besides the diamond cut pattern, exposing her breasts with dangerous allure. Her lower face covered by a black cloth that looked infused with the rest of the dress, leaving only her eyes visible, and hair to flow freely.

The unknown woman continued to adjust herself, before looking up into the elevator, capturing the eyes of every man on board.

----

Your eyes gleamed with happiness, pulling your mask down, smiling brightly at the lot.

“Hey team!” You chirped.

Silence.

“Heading out to the pub now?”

More silence. Eyes continued to stare you down. Not sure what to make of who you are. You started to feel awkward. Not realizing that this is their first time seeing you, especially like this.

“Erm… well then, off we go…? Heh…” you laughed nervously, with the door sliding closed once more, and the lift beginning its descent once more.

The ride down was silent and awkward, at least for the men. You just continued to tap away at your phone, not a care in the world, making plans to meet your friend at the festival entrance.

“(Y/N)?? Is that you?” Gaz piped up, still inspecting you from head to toe. You turned towards Gaz, nodding your head and smiling.

“Suppose this is the first time you guys have seen me outside of my Michelin Man outfit huh?”

You laughed at your own joke, not ever noticing the way their eyes grew hungrier by the second.

You never noticed the way Price stood just a little bit closer, in hopes of accidentally bumping into you. He’d blame it on how crowded the elevator was.

You never noticed the way Soap suddenly started spilling all over his words. His face slowly heating up with every time you laughed at his silly antics.

You never noticed the way Gaz was literally, so star struck, only nodding and laughing at whatever you were saying.

You never noticed the way Ghost suddenly stood up a little straighter, rather than leaning towards the rail of the elevator, trying to make himself look taller. More attractive for you.

Or the way Horangi adjusted his glasses every now and then to make sure you don’t catch him staring at you.

Or the way Konig began to fidget anxiously, staring intently at your being, hands held together to hide something that slowly began to rage in his pants. He was sweating profusely.

“Konig?” you questioned, staring up at the hulking 6’10” man.

Shit.

“Are you alright? You’re sweating up a storm.” Everyone began to turn towards him, suddenly finding himself embarrassed. With a few ‘legit’ coughs Konig spoke.

“Just need some air s’all.” He played it off way too cool. The others glared at him with jealousy when you showed concern for him. Konig, though his face not visible to others, smiled a triumphant smile under his facemask.

You smiled brightly at him, breathing a sigh of relief, tugging at his heartstrings even more. Glances were stolen every now and then by your team members. Assessing your body, and trying to determine if it’s the trick of the light, or your thighs are just that delicious. Toned, large, and ready to crush heads.

Oh, how they wished to have their heads between your legs. To have that pretty black dress lifted over their heads, and to hear your sweet voice calling out their names in ecstasy. Your hair sticking to your skin, drenched in the sweat and tears of your pheromones.

To watch the rise and fall of your heaving chest, as your honey coats their face and tongues. Once you’ve had your high, the dress comes off and you smile that bright smile at them, hands cupping their faces whisper-begging.

“Come here, darling… Come to me. I need you, so badly.” You’d pant out, with tears in your eyes, and a wobbly smile on your face, just begging to be ravaged by them. To be pumped with their loads.

Oh, they all wanted you, and you didn’t even know it.

The ride down felt like forever, until the soft ding of elevator is heard throughout, indicating your destination of the ground floor.

----

“So, where are you heading, dressed up like this?” Price inquired.

“EDC. It’s going on for 3 days, but I’ll only be going for two.” You stated excitedly.

“EDC? Wassall that then hen?” Now Soap asking the questions.

“It’s just a music festival. Electric Dance Carnival. Been dying to go, and since we’re out here I wanted to take the chance.” You informed the bunch. They all walked along side you, the rest in silence as Soap continued his barrage of questions.

“Oh, but I won’t be getting insanely lit or anything like that! It’s just an opportunity is all! I’m meeting some friends.” You corrected yourself, not wanting to have your team think you’re some sort of degenerate (hehe).

As you continued to happily chat away, your taxi pulled up. Bounding towards the door you turn back towards your fellow soldiers, not missing a beat.

“Ay, be safe, okay? If you need anything, don’t hesitate to phone me.” You chirped once more.

“Anyways, I’m off then! Be seeing you around!” You waved as you got into your taxi, driving away into the city.

----

Sitting around a table, with a dimly lit light hanging above them, Ghost groaned at the thought of phoning you to let you know that he isn’t feeling well. That he might need some of that ‘comfort’ you were giving to Konig earlier. Felt kind of sweaty. Might need you to take care of him, if you get what I’m laying down.

Price, Konig, and Horangi sat around the table, watching Gaz and Soap playing rounds of pool, but not really committing to it. Something on their mind, pretty sure knowing what, or who, it could be.

“If I died tomorrow, I’d want it to be those thighs wrapped around my head.” Soap dreamt, leaning on his pole.

“Yeah, no shit. Wasn’t expecting any of that. Reckon I’d begin howling at the moon just to have a bite.” Gaz chuckled.

Eyes snapped up at the duo, and then at each other.

Price laid a hefty pat on Ghosts shoulder, reminding him of his comment earlier.

“Still not what you were expecting, weren’t you lad?”  laughing heartily. Ghost grunted at his comment, as did Horangi and Konig.

“I… must admit… I too, was not expecting such a treat tonight.” Horangi shuttered with each word. Konig nodded vigorously.

Still fantasizing about your worry over him. Fretting over his comfort. He was already fantasizing about your wedding. The life you’ll lead together. Breeding you up with his young, having you cry under his weight, with your legs wrapped tightly around him as he drilled his throbbing member deep into your core. Konig shuttered at the thought.

“I’m going to make her mind” Konig stated out of the blue. Suddenly, all eyes snapped at him. Flashes of competitiveness and want evident on everyone’s face. Now, everyone was vying for your affection. And you didn’t even have an inkling of an idea that any of this was going down.

----

I hope ya’ll liked my story. It’s probably all over the place, and that’s okay. It was something I’ve been needing to get out of my system. Something I can go back to when I’m feeling that little itch.  I may build on this for our individual heroes. IDK.

[nightunite]

@machveil yummy yummy

@beloveds-embrace got some price and gaz in here for you too

[gojoidyll-deactivated20251118]

Can you write a oneshot or drabble where reader gives Capitano a diamond encrusted cock ring as a joke, but he actually decides to use it 🫣. Ur smutty fics are fucking gold btw <3

+18, smut, mdni, etc

sorry for the wait 💞 thank you for requesting and liking my stuff!!

It was when you were summoned to Capitano's office that you thought that maybe, just maybe, you took your joke too far. Despite being in a healthy relationship with the Captain, you always had a tendency to mess around with him (mainly because you knew he wouldn't do any harm to you). When with the Captain, you felt like you could be yourself.

Though maybe giving him a pretty cock ring was a bit too far especially considering that it did cost a bit much out of your pocket due to the diamonds that were carefully encrusted into it.

Nervously wiping your sweaty hands off your pants, you were about to announce yourself from outside his office door, but was quickly silenced when you heard him moan.

Opening the door in a haste, you were instantly frozen still. Your eyes befallen upon a shirtless Capitano. His chest heaving up and down, his pants and underwear pulled slightly down for his cock to spring free and there, jeweled around his hefty length was the cock ring you gifted him as a joke.

"Shut the door, and come here."

Too dazed at the sight before you, you mindlessly listened to him, and even went an order more and locked the door before going to him.

"On your knees."

Again, you listened to him even going so far as shifting in-between his legs, getting comfortable as you rested your cheek against his thigh. Your focus on his leaking cock rather than on his face.

"You need to learn what a real joke is, until then, open your mouth. I need to discipline that brattiness out of you."

[themaskinthemirror]

During the Halloween holiday at NRC :

Yuu : *running away to Ramshackle with Skully's portrait* YOU'LL NEVER CATCH ME!

Crowley : *running after them* THAT PORTRAIT IS SCHOOL PROPERTY! GIVE IT BACK PERFECT!

Adeuce : *also running after them* YUU COME BACK WITH THAT PORTRAIT!

Skully : *talking through the portrait* Go go my dear friend! They can never catch us!