I've got that COD Brainrot

28/f Currently caught up on the MW Reboot series, and completely out of the loop on the rest tbqh but OH WELL! Header image and pfp were both drawn by me <3

[ocaekija]

First Morning After (Full + Updated Fic)

Entire comic in one place. I also rewrote the accompanying fic, adding extra✨spice✨and a whole lot more desperation. It gets nasty; you've been warned.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Please enjoy <3

[wolfythewitch]

Can we appreciate all the ropes I’ve painted he is so secure

[rik0-rik0]

I high-key think I messed this up, anyway

[digitalkiddo]

If you're writing anything involving cons, scams, heists, or morally questionable characters who are very good at lying, here are some free resources I've been using for research. Saving you the "why is this in my search history" anxiety.

1. The FBI's Famous Cases & Criminals archive (fbi.gov/history/famous-cases) has detailed breakdowns of real fraud cases, Ponzi schemes, and confidence operations. The language they use is clinical and precise, which is perfect for getting the procedural details right.

2. The FTC Consumer Sentinel Network publishes annual reports on the most common fraud tactics in the US. Great for understanding how modern scams actually work and what makes people fall for them.

3. The Smithsonian's American Art Museum has a free digital collection of forgery case studies. If your character forges documents or art, this is gold.

4. Court Listener (courtlistener.com) is a free legal database where you can read actual court transcripts from fraud trials. Want to know how a real con artist talks under oath? This is where you find out.

5. The Internet Archive's collection of old newspaper crime sections. Search for "confidence man" or "swindle" in papers from the 1920s through 1960s and you'll find incredible real stories that would feel too dramatic for fiction.

Bonus: The Psychology of Fraud section on the Association for Psychological Science website has accessible articles about why people trust, how deception works cognitively, and what makes someone a convincing liar. Essential reading if you want your con artist characters to feel psychologically real.

Reblog to save for later. Your WIP will thank you.

[witherfide]

love my simon and his complete lack of eyebrow.. he’s giving me cuteness aggression

[witherfide]

stupid boy that i love

[vozart]

Part 1 of a little comic for mershark soap and pirate ghost :)

Ghost thought sharks didn't make noise so he's really shocked when the one he's stuck with (hes not really stuck hes keeping it around cause he feels bad and the mer is handsome) starts crying loudly...

[zannyyyyy]

Bar

Captain John price x reader

Summary: While on the way to a bar you decide to tease price. Price doesn’t tolerate rowdiness. He makes it his mission to humiliate you even if it means doing it in front of his men.

Warnings: mean Captain John price, semi public touching, pet names, oral, (m receiving) humiliation, fingering, and dirty talk.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · · · · ─ ·✶· ─ · · · · ─ ·✶· ─ · · · · ─ ·✶· ─ ·

Your legs were propped up on the dashboard as the wind gentle casted against your face. Price had one hand on the steering wheel of his truck while the other one held one of his thick cigars. The musk of tobacco filled your nostrils…familiar yet tart.

The two of you were headed to a bar not too far from home. You and price had been dating for a little over a year. You’d gained his trust and now it was time to meet his team who held just as much importance as you did to him. Once finding out that their captain had a girl, they had to meet you. Price had been trying to hold it off but he knew that could only happen but for so long.

“The boys can get rowdy, love” he gazed over towards you while taking another drag from his guilty pleasure. A smirk played across your lips “I’m looking forward to it. Don’t know why it took so long for me to meet them.” You were excited especially after hearing stories price often told you. They were like family to him.

Price chuckled as if that were the most amusing thing in the world. “You’re excited to meet a bunch of overworked soldiers” he shook his head while tapping ash out of the window.

“I want to get to know them….” You look out of the window specifically the landscape of trees.

You were supposed to be a secret. That’s what the two of you agreed to at-least. Price had a lot of duties…he’d rather people know less about you. There wouldn’t be any questions, looks, or assumptions. He preferred to keep it simple.

In the beginning, it worked out.

That was until you started packing his lunch. Soap was the first to notice. He knew price never packed his lunch even more so carry a lunchbox. It was always neat and well done too. The work of a women.

What really blew the icing off the cake was when you left a note with your name written with a bunch of little hearts around it. Price knew he couldn’t make up a lie. So he had no other choice but to reveal his relationship rather he liked it or not.

One chain of event led to another and before he knew it he was on the way to introducing you to his team.

There was a beat of silence…a comfortable silence. Your eyes wander through his frame. The way his forearms flexed as he handled the steering wheel, his fingers fiddling with his cigar, the way his bearded jaw softly clenched every time he moved his mouth, and best of all his bucket hat that he just couldn’t get enough of.

Price noticed your staring. That look of neediness in your eyes you’d give him. “I can see the gears turning in your head bunny.” He finally threw out his cigar, leaving the tainted substance.

You shifted your legs until they were on his lap. On instinct he placed one of his hands over your legs. “What are they telling you?” You shift yourself until your legs are directly pressing against his center. Where you’d assume his bulge to be.

“You’re up to no good.” Price chuckled once more “if ya know what’s best f’you bunny, you’d settle down” he kept his eyes situated on the road.

That itself was like a Greenlight for you to continue.

“I don’t think I do”

You shift your legs away and leaned across the middle until your face is millimeters away from his crotch. Something in prices eyes darkened but he maintained his calm demeanor.

No reaction? More teasing then.

Your hands wander around his thighs. They trailed with sneakiness all the way until they found his zipper. You give him one last look before fully unleashing it down. Price was already rock hard…that much was clear based on the imprint roaring to be set free. You didn’t have the patience to take your time so you simply pulled him out of his boxers. Price was thick and heavy…his tip red and veins pumping with blood.

You bite down on your lip meanwhile your eyes up casted towards him.

“Go on and finish what you started, bunny” his hand flexed as if he might grab your hair. You knew he had no problem doing it. Gently, you stroked his length watching the way it stiffened even more. Price must’ve been inpatient because he pushed your head down until your lips were centimeters away from his tip. “Suck…” he gently shook you.

Your lips wrapped around his tip. They went further down memorizing his veins.

You weren’t sucking. You were holding him in your mouth.

Price grunted “playing games are we?” His fingers curled into the texture of your hair. “Mmm” you sent vibrations with your needy humms. “I suppose that’s a yes hm?” Without further warning he forced your head down. The sound of your gags drowned out the music as he forced you to take his cock. Your hands clutched his pant leg but you held back your tears.

Price knew he couldn’t get too rowdy before arriving so he loosened up. “Think you can suck cock now love?” He asked condescendingly. “Yes..” you attempted to talk around his length.

Your lips wrapped around him and soon you were sucking just as he liked.

This lasted a while. You, your lips, and your head working in sync. You knew his body just as he knew yours. The moment his cock started twitching you pulled away with a wet pop. “What are ya doing bunny?” He was dwelling for his release. Due to being busy for the past week, he’d been limited.

You wiped your lips with the back of your hand. “We’ll be at the bar soon. Don’t wanna ruin my makeup.” You were teasing him…keeping him from having the release he so desperately wanted.

His jaw ticked as he pulled into the parking lot.

You knew he was irritated. It only widened your smirk. “Come on…their already here it looks” you grab your bag and hop out of his truck, dusting off your outfit.

Once interlinking fingers you both enter the bar tighter

Soap, ghost, and gaz were already seated at a rounded booth. Price was beyond irritated but he masked it with a neutral expression.

“Was wondering when you two would get here.” Gaz chanted out while darting his eyes towards you. He called out your name as if you were a long time friend “so you are real” he chuckled beside soap. “Was starting to think you were made up love” ghost was sitting on the other side of soap talking through his balaclava. “It’s a miracle lads” soap took a sip of his drink.

You were practically turning red from the comments they were giving you. What threw you out of your trance was price gripping a handful of your ass. He was never the type to get handsy in public but as of today, something clicked.

He was pissed.

“You lots look like you’re drooling” he sat down first then pulled you down beside him. He introduced you to each of his men “Gaz, Soap, and Ghost” he discreetly gripped your thigh under the table. “And lads this is my girl” his hands drifted up.

You smile and nod trying to ignore how touchy he was getting

Once placing orderers and receiving drinks and food price continued the path up your thigh.

You were doing quite well, ignoring it. That was until his fingers drifted over your center right aginst your panties. You nearly choked on your drink. “Everything alright love?” Price gazed down towards you.

“Just fine” you bit down on your straw

This was payback for what happened earlier.

“Mh, why don’t you tell the lads about how we met.” His fingers dipped underneath your panties and massaged your clit. “W-what?” You hid your expression through your glass. “Tell the lads about how he met” his thumb pressed down hard.

You gaze at the group of men and the curious expressions on their face. “R-right..I work at a coffee shop not do far- mm not too far from base” you squeezed your thighs but even then he contiued to rub your clit. “Price came in nearly everyday and uh…eventually he asked me out” you swallow hard before giving price a look.

Your eyes were begging him to stop.

All he did was chuckle

Two of his thick fingers found your slit. You bite back any moans threatening to come out. Just when you thought he would was up he shoved those fingers inside of you.

“Mnh..” the sound was stubble. Loud enough for only him to hear.

Price curled his fingers while massaging that sensitive spot inside of you. You were practically panting at this point. Gaz must’ve noticed “you alright there, lass? You look red in the face” this question led to everyone’s attention being settled on you.

Price only moved his fingers harder

“She’s alright. Just the alcohol gettin’ to her. Ain’t that right bunny?” He called you that pet name only serving more humiliation.

“I’m f-fine. Yes, I’m fine” you sallowed deeply.

“Good girl” Price grunted.

You clenched around his fingers earning another chuckle.

As minutes passed you zoned out of the conversation, focused on one thing. Not letting yourself slip. You’d made some noises here and there but it wasn’t enough to alarm anyone. Though price wouldn’t stop nagging you with questions.

“Love, where was our first date?” His thumb circled your clit meanwhile he played inside of you.

“W-we went to this jazz bar- mh…mhmhmm” you could barely keep yourself together. It was a wonder no one noticed the squelching sound of your pussy crying out.

“And what did I gift you that night?” He knew the answer he just wanted to watch you struggle.

“Necklace..” you spoke barely above a whisper

“What was that?”

“A necklace!” You pointed to the pendant hanging around your neck.

“Looks like a beauty” soap examined it before shifting his eyes back towards his drink.

Before you could thank him that familiar coil began to build up at the pitt of your stomach. You were going to cum. Panic and humiliation hit you all at once. Price must’ve noticed because his lips curled into a smirk and his fingers worked faster.

You would never recover if you just so happened to cry out in the middle of a bar. You would have to contain yourself.

Discreetly, you placed your hand under the table attempting to pry him away. Price leaned down to your ear “keep fighting and I’ll take ya out back..spank that ass raw” he gave you a kiss to your cheek before leaning back up.

It was at that moment you realized it. You’d have to endure him fully. You prop your elbows onto the table and bring your hands a close to your lips.

The conversation they were having was simply drowned out as your body reached its peak.

Your thighs trembled as waves of uncontrollable pleasure washed over you. “Mmph…” the sound you made was utterly pathetic. Without warning you bit down on your hand, an attempt to control your facial expression. That sensitive feeling of pleasure lasted for what felt like ten minutes until price finally pulled away.

The tension in your shoulders dropped like a wave splashing through the sea. You were trembling like a leaf embarrassed, fearful, and senseless.

Price brought his fingers to his lips and sucked without a care in the world.

That’s when it clicked to everyone at the table.

Soap nearly choked on his drink, gaz turned his head away, and ghost whistled underneath his breath. There was a moment of silence expect for the sound of price cleaning his fingers.

“What a night lads” he chuckled while guiding the both of you up from the booth. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at them. This was their first impression of you. Humiliated, used, and tamed. “Bunny, why don’t you tell my men goodbye?” He placed his hand on the back of your neck as a warning. “You were so eager to meet them after all”

Finally you met their gaze.

“Goodnight..” your voice which was filed with much confidence earlier was reduced to something much smaller and meek.

They weren’t uncomfortable. No, they were amused. It soon felt as if this were all a game…

“It’s about time we head out…tend to other things. I’ll catch up with you lots tomorrow.” And with that he walked you out of the bar with one big hand squeezing your ass.

“I told ya honey, you want to play games. This is what happens.”

The night air was cold and unforgiving on your skin. It only added to your already shivering body.

“Now get in the truck before I fuck you in the parking lot…”

[huh-i-guess]

Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel!

(Captain John Price x F!reader x Simon "Ghost" Riley)

Summary: A tipsy Halloween night out with the 141 has you craving your commanding officers, who both happen to be dressed as one of the sexiest slashers.

Warnings: 18+ (MDNI), dub-con bc of Alcohol, dirty filthy nasty dancing, mask kink, size kink, grinding, freaked out thoughts, reader loves pink and is feminine, unedited but also a rewrite

WC: ~ 4.6K

The five of you walked into the dimly lit club and were immediately engulfed with the sounds of an entrancing beat that dictated the flow of the crowd ahead of you. 

You, Soap, and Gaz had done a number of shots before leaving base under the amused gazes of your two commanding officers. Soap and Gaz were tied, each downing 6 shots, while you’d only been able to stomach 4 and kind of a half. You knew that if you’d had anymore in that short span of time, the boys might have to carry you out of the club.

It was Halloween night and the boys had all decided to dress as figures from classic horror films. Soap had decided to emulate Chucky, with a bright striped shirt, a pair of overalls and a cheap red halloween wig. Gaz felt that the Candyman might have been a good fit, so he tugged on a faux fear coat from who knows where, and donned a plastic hook for a hand. Your commanding officers however? The two had decided that Ghostface was the best fitting costume, seeing that there was almost always a duo behind the classic slasher. It was the quickest costume to get into. 

You, on the other hand, were absolutely sick of being in camo, stiff pants, t-shirts, and boots, so you decided to be a fairy. 

A bright pink fairy. 

You ordered the cutest flowy wig you could find, a pink flower crown, a sparkly pink mini skirt, a danceable baby pink pair of heels, a pair of pink wings, and a fluffy pink top that ruffled around your hips like the petals of a flower. You went all out with your makeup; layered on the blush, faux freckles, various shades of pink eyeshadow, lashes, and a soft neutral lip. 

To say you looked gorgeous was an understatement. You felt soft and feminine and surprisingly none of your teammates heckled you for being pretty in pink.

A part of you wondered what the club goers thought as they watched the lot of you walking in. A bright pink fairy with a group of slashers at her side.

Intimidating or ironic?

The cold air from outside barely had an impact on you, Gaz, and Johnny since the 3 of you felt a layer of warmth stemming from the liquor in your system.

 The group found a booth that was tucked into a corner next to the dancefloor with clear visualization of all entry and exit points. You dropped your purse off at the table with the boys and made it your mission to lay eyes on the bar.

Once your eyes landed on the packed counter, you buzzed through the crowd in long confident strides, with a smile plastered on your face, and a bundle of  “excuse me’s” ready on the tip of your tongue. You squeezed your way through the bunch of people crowding the bar and rested an arm on the polished wood, readying yourself to order a round for the table.

You just barely flipped your hair off of one shoulder when your gaze landed on a tall, ever imposing ghostface making his way toward you. The liquor running through your system blurred your ability to make distinctions between who was Price and who was Simon. The black drapes that flowed over the man’s body ruined any chance of you clocking any distinguishing features. You’d hoped that the man would say something, so you could place his identity. 

Your lidded eyes traced their way down his massive body as he stopped and stood behind you, clearly at the ready like a guard dog. He pushed just a bit further forward so that he was right next to you leaning on the wooden counter. 

It wasn’t difficult for the man to take notice of the way your hazy eyes trailed down his body. 

Subtlety and drunkenness never mixed well, so your mind wandered. 

Either man could be perched next to you as your mind ruffled through a list of their shared traits. They were both large and intimidating and their presences had already commanded any room they entered. Being masked and swallowed by a sea of black increased the intimidation factor tenfold. 

Simon being masked was completely normal and had grown on you, but in the beginning it was unnerving and a point of anxiety for you, not being able to distinguish features and all. You'd grown to rely on reading his body language. Simon’s commitment to being masked had grown on you so much that you’d had a number of dreams of him masked, geared up and breathless, pressing into you.

The liquor was starting to warm your body in other ways and standing next to the unidentifiable behemoth of a man fluttered something deep inside of you. 

You hadn’t even realized that you were still staring at the man with lazy, doe-like eyes and your bottom lip tugged between your teeth. Your gaze flicked up toward his eyes and a warmth flushed through your face as you realized you’d been caught. 

You cleared your throat and flipped your hair in his direction with a soft smile and asked, “You playing babysitter tonight?”

His head tilted a bit under your stare and the action had you remembering what your purpose for being at the bar was. Before he could respond you turned and attempted to wave down one of the bartenders that was bouncing back and forth like a pinball in a machine.

“Depends. How much you plan on drinkin’?” He huffed and moved a step closer to you so that the sides of your hips bumped into each other. The closeness allowed him to rest his gloved hand along the small of your back. 

The palm on your back that was almost inappropriately close to your ass, covered a considerable amount of space and was warm as a furnace.

The touch had you wondering what it would feel like if he dipped it just a bit lower and cupped the plush flesh that sat just below. 

You pulled your lip harder between your teeth as your mind painted a picture of the gloved extremity sliding upward and around your neck or dipping even lower underneath your skirt. 

You should have been making an effort to find out who the voice belonged to and not fantasizing about the size of his hands. Your cloudy mind and the music around you made it hard to pinpoint how deep the voice was and whether or not it was a Manchester or London accent. 

He held his other arm out in front of him with his card in hand, name facing away from you and the bartender almost immediately turned his attention to the mountain of a man next to you. Your thighs clenched at how easily his action commanded attention.

“What can I get you, boss?” The bartender's gaze was locked onto your teammate but that black, masked gaze was frozen onto you, chin just barely jutting toward you as he waited for you to respond. 

Your breath caught in your throat at the action before you moved to answer the man.

“3 shots of Tequila and 2 bourbons, please.” The bartender nodded his head, went to work before grabbing the man’s card. 

The hand resting on your back rubbed a small affirming circle, before you felt a soft pat above your bottom and then a complete removal of the paw. You had to fight a whine from leaving your mouth at the loss of touch.

The length of time between your last passionate, touch filed escapade and now had left you absolutely craving any and every form of touch. It didn’t help that Price was always physically affectionate; a pat on the back here, a curt side hug there, a quick grab and shake of your shoulders as he applauded you for a job well done. His touch was always strictly platonic but your desperation had you searching for more. 

Simon on the other hand had to warm up to touching you but once he started he never stopped. You’d noticed he’d always find an excuse to get his hands on you but it was always under the guise of being work related. He’d always been thorough in checking your gear, yanking you in every direction he chose, warm hands checking the harness straps wrapped around your thighs and behind. It had always been done with a dark chuckle as he’d teased you for how flustered the action made you. He’d be quick to steady you on the heli as a soft apology slipped from your lips at the tough take off. He’d only ever reply with a deep hum and a firm squeeze to your shoulders. He’d grab your hips to yank you out of enemy fire instead of opting to use the straps on your gear and maybe even go as far as ruffling your hair when you popped off your helmet in safe zones. The type of touching that was taking place tonight was lingering and maybe even charged, but most definitely not innocent. That’s what your mind has told you at least.

“Good girl then.” The man hummed from next to you, appeased that you’d remembered his drink order. An aching want shot through you at the statement and your body lulled as your mind painted pictures of ways you could earn his praise. 

A quick flash of a hand in your hair, pulling, hard. 

A thought of a low voice groaning in your ear as you straddled and rocked on top of a set of solid hips. 

An image of your back pressed against a thick, solid body that rumbled and huffed with every press of their pelvis to yours. 

A choked gasp from a set of pink lips as you swallowed around a thick, leaking cockhead. No.

 A choked gasp from a set of pink lips tucked behind a thick beard as you swallowed around a thick, leaking cockhead. 

You were ripped from your lust and liquor fueled thoughts as the man bumped his hips into yours to get your attention. He hummed next to you, his hands gripping the tequila shots and with a quick jerk of his head, he motioned for you to grab the bourbons.

 The two of you turned away from the bar as he led the way over to where the rest of the team sat in the booth. They were already joking and laughing in their varying states of inebriation. 

Just as you thought, the crowd parted for the man without any hesitation or effort from him. 

When the two of you reached the table, Soap’s face had a slight flush to it, almost giving him a doll-like appearance that fit well with his costume. A light sheen of sweat began coating Gaz’s skin as it appeared he was fighting a battle between the liquor filled heat and the actual heat from the pelt that covered him. The other Ghostface, Ghostface #2, had his arms folded over his chest as he softly shook his head at a slightly slurred, heavily accented comment that fell from Soap.

Gaz’s attention landed on the pair of you walking over, “Ah yes! That’s what I’m talking about.” he clapped as you and Ghostface #1 placed the drinks down.

“A sight for sore eyes, you two are.” Soap chirped, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. 

You passed one glass of bourbon over to Ghostface #2 with a floaty smile and then tapped your hip against Ghostface #1’s while you moved his drink to his hands. You, Soap, and Gaz all moved to grab your shots with dopey, inebriated smiles on your faces. 

“Here's to those who wish us well, and those who don't can go to hell!”” You said as you raised your glass to the sky, smiling as your team cheered in agreement, clinked their drinks down on the table and threw the shots back with rough jerks of their heads. 

The Ghostfaces just barely tilted their masks up their faces and a small huff fell from your lips as your eyes strained in the dim light as you attemopted to see who was who. The light and the liquor tag teamed your struggle as you failed to see which one of them had a beard. As you lowered the shot glass to the table, shaking your body to fight the burn of liquor going down your throat, the song playing over the speakers shifted to a bouncy, higher tempo with a heavy bassline that had your hips moving with a mind of their own. A cheesy smile spread across your painted lips and a satisfied sigh fell from your lips as you patted Ghostface #1 Ghostface #2 on the shoulder with a nod of your head.

“If you guys need me, I’ll be dancing in there. Somewhere.” You motioned to the dance floor with a thumbs up and turned on your heels while swaying your hips to the beat. 

You swayed and rocked to the beat while you shuffled your way through the crowd until you were almost at the center. Your gaze was just a bit hazy as you took in your surroundings.

The crowd was a mass of shapes and colors. And animals too? It was Halloween so you shouldn’t have been surprised to see an inflatable T-Rex’s head bouncing and shifting through the sea of people. 

You shook your head and chuckled to yourself and you closed your eyes, letting the fuzziness of being tipsy take over you as you started to feel the bass that was flooding through the speakers. Your body had already started moving as you bopped to the rhythm. 

The center of the crowd was hot and packed but the people around you gave you enough space to dance alone without smacking someone with your wings. The music had you entranced on the floor. Hair was swishing, wings bouncing, and your shirt flowed with your movement as you swayed. 

You felt like you had not one care in the world. With the nature of your job, being in a crowd like this would have normally made you uncomfortable. You’d become used to being hypervigilant, overcritical, and overthinking, but something tonight told you to let yourself unwind. With some liquid courage, you let yourself kick back, hoping to enjoy yourself. Very rarely do you let yourself get this drunk, but it’s one of your favorite holidays and you’ve been working so hard these past few months.

Price smokes his cigars and sips his bourbon every chance he gets, Johnny and Gaz get blackout in the rec room watching rom-coms biweekly, and Simon… already has way too many unhealthy coping mechanisms to count so you are more than welcome to get drunk and dance around every once in a while. Plus if shit hit the fan, the guys would get you out of there in no time. You were more than capable of taking care of yourself, but you told them that tonight you were turning your mind off, and they listened.

You swayed and rocked to the beat, feeling light as a feather in the center of the crowd, like you were locked in your own little world before you felt a solid, warm presence at your back.

The liquor was already taking control so instead of looking behind you to see who had pushed themselves onto you, you leaned into the warmth. You’d missed the feel of a warm body behind you, so you rocked your hips to the rhythm. 

Hopefully the man wasn’t planning on just standing behind you, stiff as a board. You reached behind you and placed your hands on his hips, hoping to get him to move in time with you and the beat. The figure behind you slowly began to rock to the beat of the music, tensely, like he hadn’t danced in a while, but on beat enough for you to rock with him. 

A gloved pair of hands found their way onto your sides and you hummed at the touch. They slowly slid up and down your flanks until they finally parked themselves on your hips, giving the meat that rested there the slightest squeeze. The action pushed a soft sigh from your lips even though you should have been disgusted by the gall of the stranger. 

The man’s massive hands occupied so much space on your hips that you couldn’t help but to imagine what they would feel like as they pressed you face down, into a warm, plush bed.

The drunk part of you said that you were beyond touch starved and that you needed this. So you leaned into the touch. You pressed your body flush against his and felt just how large he was, not only tall but also wide and firm, an absolute unit. 

You loved it, mind already filled with all of the possibilities. Being tossed around like a rag doll, being picked up and used like a toy, being held down by his tree trunk of an arm and a tongue flitting through your folds. Your mind went haywire as you ground your hips against the stranger. Your body flushed with warmth as you felt your core heat up.

You could feel that you were rubbing against something thick. It wasn’t hard but it was definitely solid and surly heavy. Your ass was pressed against the man’s pelvis so there was no doubting what was pressing against you.

A soft moan slipped from your lips at the feel of him behind you. Just the feeling of the bulge that sat between his legs, had your mouth watering, suddenly feeling very empty. 

The music’s tempo had lowered to a much more intimate almost sensual pace. The two of you swayed in time with the rhythm and you felt his member twitch against you. The confirmation that you weren’t the only one being impacted by the heavy petting left you feeling devious. 

You bit your lip and pressed your hips further back into his so you could feel just how much of an effect you were having on him. You just barely heard a muffled groan as he tightened his grip on your hips and lightly rolled his own up into your plush ass. A pleased hum fell from your lips as you slowly wrapped your fingers in his gloved ones for support. You couldn’t stop yourself even if you wanted to so you bent forward at the waist. 

“Fuuuuuck.” Muffled and long fell from his lips as he just tilted his head back. You shifted your ass against his bulge and shook your hips so that your ass shook against his front. 

“Bloody hell, love.”

You felt the bulk of your ass moving against his hardening cock and your mind loved that you could feel your impact on him. You could feel his cock twitching and swelling against you and you absolutely loved it. You just barely dropped your hips so that your ass could press up from the bottom of his clothed length before you swiveled them back up so that you were standing up straight again.

 A bratty side of you that had been lulling just beneath the surface was begging to take over. 

You wanted to play with him. 

You had to play with him. 

You know how good you looked bent over and you loved that you were putting on a show for him. You also knew that you wanted to feel just how big he was all over. 

There was some sick part of you that hoped that the man behind you was either one of your commanding officers. 

Price and his thick, solid, almost bear-like body. 

A man like that was built for endurance.

Built to sustain. 

Built to lead, to provide. 

You’d imagined being bent over his desk with the soft but strong press of his stomach against your back as he fucked you into the oak that sat in the center of his office. 

You’d spent nights with your fingers rubbing your clit imagining that it was Price’s tongue slipping through your folds as his beard scratched the delicate skin between your thighs. You'd thought about straddling those thick hips and thighs while taking him deep inside of you as he leaned back and lazily smoked a stubby cigar with a dazed look on his face. 

You'd wondered if he was the kind of man to shotgun the warm smoke from his cigars into your mouth as he planted you firmly onto his cock. 

You’d wonder what his already gruff voice would sound like as he huffed into your ear while his hips pistoned up into you. Would he be stern and mean? Would he tell you how good you were for him? Would he make you beg for it? Would he spit on it if you asked him to? 

The thought of your Captain and all the things you wanted him to do to you had your body rocking back even harder into the stranger as his hand made its way along your front, gently cupping your breast. 

Your breath caught in your throat at the touch. The both of you were being bold tonight and you definitely didn’t have any complaints about it. Your mind was already cloudy with absolutely sinful thoughts and you knew it would never happen so why not indulge some of those feelings? Why not let someone touch you the way you’ve been so desperately craving for months? 

You brought your hand up to meet the strangers and placed yours on top of his. Even with your eyes closed you could feel the absolute mass that this man had to him. You gave his hand a squeeze, leading him to tightly grope your breast through your shirt. 

Your lip pulled itself between your teeth again and a hum slipped from your mouth. He just barely slipped a finger over your covered, peaked nipple and you felt your core flood. 

His other hand made its way up your chest until it rested on your neck. The action had you pressing your hips even further into him, trapping his growing cock between your bodies. 

Would it be bad if you asked him to squeeze? 

You wanted him to make everything even fuzzier. You wouldn’t need another shot if he just squeezed down on your neck. You wanted to beg him to squeeze, so badly. You wanted him to pull you closer and whisper in your ear all the things he wanted to do to you. You could feel how bad he wanted you, it wouldn’t be hard to make something happen. You wanted to hear his breath in your ear as he told you how hard he was gonna fuck you.

He was just so BIG. Absolutely solid and clearly strong. 

Could it be Simon? 

Simon the absolute tank of a man. 

Simon, your big boy with the skull face. 

Your big bad lieutenant. 

Oh you hoped it was him or John, touching you like this. 

Everything about him was large, his hands, his thighs, his waist. Surely his cock was too. It had to be, especially with the way he walked around. That walk could only belong to a man that was absolutely hung. 

 You had dreams about pressing your face into the fat bulge that sat between his thighs.

Hoped that you could get a decent view of it as he readjusted his hips in meetings.

Some part of you almost wanted to beg him to let you kiss it, anywhere, anytime, any place. If he wanted it in a meeting, in front of the whole team you’d do it there and then some.

You’d thought about him holding your head down on his fat cock. Choking and sputtering around his girth. Would he leave you struggling to catch your breath? Would he laugh as you sputtered and struggled around his length? 

You’d thought about what it would be like to sit on his pretty pink lips that he loves to keep covered up. 

You’d even thought about the way that the man would smell as he fucked you. 

Not wanting to ruin the fantasy, you kept your eyes closed, and slowly turned yourself around in the man’s grasp. 

You pressed your front to his, as you slid your arms up to rest behind his neck. His large hands shifted themselves to the plush fat of your ass. You rolled your body into his with the mellow beat that poured from the speakers and felt your breath catch in your throat as his hands gripped the fat of your bottom, and he pulled the two globes up and apart. 

You couldn’t stop the moan that fell from your lips. Feeling electrified by his movements, you pulled a hand from the back of his neck and trailed it down his front. Eyes still closed, breath coming out in shudders, you pushed your hand in between the two of you and rested your palm along the man’s thick, very hard member. 

“Fucken’-” You could hear a strained huff leave his mouth at the contact. Emboldened by the shots you took earlier, you closed your hand around the man’s thick length and gave it a firm squeeze as you let out a soft purr next to his ear. 

“So big.” You hummed next to his ear as you felt his hips pulse into your grip. You just barely ran the top of your thumb along the man’s covered tip before you felt another presence at your back. 

“Ouuuu handsy as ever, Bonnie.” You whipped your head around and locked eyes with the smirking blue eyed Scotsman, whose face was even redder from the shots and the heat of the club. 

“Johnny. My god.” You sighed and turned your body toward him completely. “You almost scared me half to death.”

“Should be scared of that big beastie you’re about to fuck on the dance floor.” He laughed as he threw his arm around your shoulder. 

You turned your head to glance behind you, hoping to see exactly what the man you were dancing with looked like, but were quickly let down when you were met with a blank space behind you. You were a bit disappointed that you hadn’t actually taken the chance to open your eyes with the mystery man, but part of you loved the thrill of not knowing. 

Gaz popped up next to you without his massive coat on and wrapped his arms around the two of you, most definitely about to start professing his love for the two of you. His weight surprised you and you stumbled in your heels against Johnny. 

“So bloody happy-”, hiccup, “that you guys are my teammates.” Gaz’s head pops up and he points over to the table that you all were at previously, which has an almost clear line of sight to where you were standing in the crowd. He finishes his thought while pointing, “Them big fuckers too”. 

Your vision, cloudy as ever, lands on a pair of Ghostfaces. One leaning back in the booth with his legs spread wide, arm thrown over the back of the cushion, mask fixed on your group, and the other, sitting at the edge of the seat with his arms propped on his knees, hands clasped together and a predatory glare that makes itself known even through the blackened eyes. The sight was probably a bit frightening to the other club goers but in your state, you were moments away from bursting out into a fit of giggles. 

You leaned on Soap and almost burst out laughing at how red he was before you looked back over to the booth. You couldn’t help but to wave at the pair of slashers that occupied the booth. The two of them shared a weighted look, before they slowly rose from the cushions and made their way toward the rest of the team. You knew that their dark eyes were locked onto you. 

“Bonnie, you gonna take ‘em both this time?” 

[konig4eva]

18+MDNI

Simons hands roamed your skin hungrily. He had woken up insatiable for you, determined to fuck you like he had something to prove. To you or to himself, you weren’t sure.

That didn’t stop you from whining and pushing yourself against his hard, heavy cock. He had already made you come several times, the count long forgotten. But, here you were, wanting as much as he was willing to give.

His rough grunts echo in your ears as his cock rubs against your eager pussy. “Lovie, relax. You’ll get what ya need.” He huffs, placing a sloppy kiss above your breasts. “Let me take my time, Pretty.”

You buck your hips impatiently, wanting more of him. “Siiii, don’t be mean.” He was being mean. As mean as Simon could be to you at least. Each orgasm was always met with his reward. Really it was just his excuse to tease you to the point of insanity.

He knew it too, chucking, endlessly amused with himself. “Mean? Me? Never.” His scarred hand grabs the underside of your knee, pushing it up to your chest.

The tip of his cock leaks onto your wet folds. His eyes widen at the sight of it, narrowing in on the lewd sight, utterly transfixed. “Mmmm fuck, Lovie. Could fuck you just like this.” He says almost breathlessly. It’s probably the closest you could ever get to seeing Simon off his guard.

“Do it, Si. I want you. Please.” He has you begging now. It’s pathetic really, but you couldn’t care less. You want him. Need him. If begging is what finally gets him to fuck you again, you’ll do it shamelessly.

He presses his tip into you, making your head roll back against the soft pillows below you. Your hands grasping the sheets in a death grip. “Simon. Please.”

The whine in your voice finally makes him cave, pushing his full length into you, watching your face closely for any sign of discomfort. When he finds none, he rocks his hips, drawing out the pleasure. “Ya like that, Birdie? Tell me how much you like it.”

You gasp, eyes rolling back I your head as he gives one hard thrust before going back to his gentle rocking. “Love it, Simon.”

[beanie-bop25]

They comfort you after a break-up

"We're back!" The Captain called out as he and the Lieutenant shuffled into the 141's private common room, kicking the door shut behind them; their arms much too preoccupied with cradling the bountiful feast they'd set out.  "Gaz, they were outta vegetable spring rolls, mate. Your just gonna have to cope without this occasion-"

However, the pair of commanding officers came to a screeching halt as they took in the scene before them. You - the Task Forces newest addition - quite clearly upset and your fellow Sergeants sat on either side of you. The old, worn brown leather couch sagging under yours, Soap and Gaz's weight.

"Didn't think no spring rolls would be such a big deal" Ghost murmured dryly as he took in your tears, his eyes crinkling into what might have been a confused scowl behind his skull-printed balaclava.

"What's going on?" John asked as he shuffled further into the room, setting the steaming bags of take-out down on to the counter of the kitchenette - the small kitchen space all but shoved into one corner of the common room. His brow furrowing into a soft frown as he tried to make sense of the situation.

He'd always been a bit of a softie when it came to his Sergeants, not that he'd ever admit it.

"Their partner-" Kyle began to explain before Johnny cut in with his own grumble, continuing to gently rub at your back.

"Ex."

"-just dumped them over text" Gaz continued, ignoring the Scotsman.

"How could they do this to me?" You whimpered between another choked sob.

The sudden break-up didn't exactly come as a surprise to the team, per say. It had been a long time in the making. Yet, unfortunately it appeared everyone but you had seemed to realise the decline of what once was a happy relationship.

The arguments, last minute cancelled plans, short periods of ghosting - you had simply chose to believe that you and your ex had just been going through a rough patch. After all, you'd been together a few years now and you'd thought you'd known them better than to just end things over text...  apparently you didn't.

"What a fuckin' idiot," Simon scoffed in his typical blunt fashion, taking the rest of the squad by surprise; your sobs quietening to upset sniffles as you blink at him. Setting his own bags of goodies down on the counter beside the Captain's and reaching for the plates up in the cupboard to begin dishing up the team's usual Friday Night takeaway. "Lettin' someone like you slip through their fingers."

"See, bonnie? Ah told yeh tha' yeh were too good for tha' wanker," Soap joined in, gesturing to the Lieutenant victoriously. "Has tah be true 'cause even LT agrees!"

"I just.. I just thought they were the one, yanno?" You shrugged, arms wrapping around yourself in a self-hug, shaking your head; reluctant to believe their reassurance. "I feel so stupid..."

"Oh, dove, got yourself into a right tizzy, haven't you?" John sighed sympathetically, abandoning the Chinese takeaway for the time being and padding across the room. Before slowly kneeling down in front of where you sat, his knees cracking as he did, large hands falling atop your knees and giving them a light squeeze. "If they couldn't be bothered to do the right thing and give you closure face-to-face then I'm afraid I have to agree with the lads. You deserved better than a bloody text after years spent together."

"And you not stupid," Kyle added, nudging you with his elbow and offering one of his most charming smiles. "See it this way - at least you know now before you wasted anymore time on that tosser, yeah?"

That earned the barest hint of a smile, the corners of your lips twitching upwards.

"Anyway," Soap grinned, seeing an opportunity as your distress began to waver. Playfully flexing his biceps and earning a real laugh from you. "Who needs them when yeh have us, aye?"

"If we're done with the dramatics," Ghost chimed in, drawing attention back to the now plated take-away. "Foods going cold."

And, as the 141 finally settled onto the sofas with their plates - turning on that film Johnny had been yapping on about wanting to watch for weeks, it didn't slip past you that the usually-brooding Lieutenant had given you his share of the prawn crackers.

Perhaps Price wasn't the only softie when it came to his teammates being upset...

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

Hi, all! Beanie here!

Incase you didn't know, I actually run a discord server named 'Beanie's Tea Room' ❤️ we host movie nights, gaming lobbies, art competitions and have so many fun people from all walks of life within the server.

I also post sneak peaks of my writings ahead of time 🤭

Link to Server: https://discord.gg/bVGMDzZC4G

The link to my server is in the Linktree in my bio and while you're there, why not check out my other social media like Tumblr and TikTok 😊 can't wait to see you there!

[pyr0nie]

silly thing i made and took too much time to do it actually

[stinglesswasp]

Day in the life - afternoon 🌇

[total-killer-brainrot]

cw noncon, kidnapping

Knight!Ghost who takes you home as a spoil of war.

Sir Riley is noble and well respected man. Invaluable to the King in battle. But unlike many of his brothers in arms, he had yet to be wed. Despite his stature no man had offered their daughter to him. They knew of the tales. The stories of his horrific visage and beastly temper. Sending their daughter to his bed would surely end in her demise. So he stayed unwed even in his later age.

But a man still has needs. Someone to keep his hearth burning while he was away. Keep his belly fed. A warm body to fuck at night. So no one stopped him when he lifted you over his shoulder and carried you back to his horse. Some pitying looks, but that was all.

The journey back was long. After the first few hours you seemed to accept your fate. Or at the very least stopped struggling. Perhaps you knew there was nothing you could do. Or perhaps you were keenly aware of the effect your fighting had on your new captor. A heavy bulge pressed against the small of your back as you sat in front of him. Burning despite the layers between you. Every jostle of the horse making you flushed all over. This monster. He got off on your terror.

You had a small glimmer of hope when he promised he would not take you until your wedding night. It was tradition after all.

But that didn't stop him from ravishing your body in other ways.

Pressing you to the cold stone floor, hooking a thumb behind your teeth to tug your jaw open and sliding his cock down your throat. Every gag and choke only making him groan as he used you. Muttering about how much better it felt compared to his rough, calloused hands. Spilling down your throat in only a few short thrusts. You were grateful for that at least. But it didn't stop him from coming back only a few hours later.

Or bending you over the dining table mid meal. Food smearing your corset as he shoved your skirts over your hips. Rutting like an animal between the plush of your thighs. Hot length sliding against your cunt, but never entering.

Simon would laugh and coo at the slick that spread down his cock. Making every thrust embarrassingly wet. Returning to his food once he had finished. Scarred features twisting with a grin as he watched you silently clean yourself up.

By the time your wedding night arrived you were terrified. By now you had seen his cock countless times. But you knew even the fingers you curled deep in your cunt late at night as you pictured your soon-to-be husband wouldn't be enough to prepare you for the beast.

Though the hungry look he gave you as he lifted your veil told you that he didn't care. Heat pooling low in your gut. He was already hard, right there at the altar.

You wondered if he would let you make it through the festivities before whisking you away to make you a proper wife.

[hatsbuckets]

Rice

cw: nightmares. soap with a poor appetite and/or bad mission recovery habits. disordered eating. dry heaving. Hurt/comfort. soapgaz (platonic or romantic)

Thinking about Soap who comes back from six weeks in the field without an appetite.

Six weeks on whatever they could find plus a rotation of MREs, bodies running on fumes and adrenaline and not much else. They all deal with it when they get back. Price eats everything in front of him for three days straight. Gaz sleeps a lot between three step meals. Ghost disappears somewhere and doesn't come out until he's ready.

Johnny doesn't eat. Johnny works, reviews, trains, and distracts himself throughout the day.

A week passes and he's still pushing food around his plate and drinking coffee like that's a meal. His face gets a new sharpness to it that Kyle doesn't like.

The first few times, Kyle stays quiet. They're still new together. Still figuring this out. It's not Kyle's place to tell a man how to handle his trauma.

The nightmares start, or Kyle starts hearing them, maybe not the same thing. The first one comes through the wall as a sound that gets choked on, swallowed down. Kyle lies in the dark and doesn't sleep for an hour. Then the third sound is of Soap's door closing and Kyle's sitting up and following him down the hall.

He finds Johnny on the bathroom floor, arm hooked over the rim of the tub, shaking like a cold dog. He's dry heaving into the air, body wrung out and insisting, that awful sound going on too long in the small tiled room. Kyle opens a cabinet in the low runner lights along the floor, runs a cloth under the cold tap and crouches behind Johnny and presses it to the back of his neck.

Johnny flinches. Then goes still. Then starts shaking again. Kyle keeps the cloth there.

It takes a while to stop.

"Sorry," Johnny says eventually, voice scraped raw.

"Don't," Kyle says.

He gets him up off the floor, a hand under his arm, and Johnny lets himself be moved. He walks him down the hall and sits him on the edge of his bed. Then reaches past him to the shelf and sets a small stuffed bear in his hands.

Johnny looks down at it.

Kyle leaves him for 12 minutes to to make rice.

He keeps it plain, keeps it soft, almost overcooked. Just a bit placed in a small bowl. He brings it back and Johnny is sitting exactly where he left him, bear held loose in both hands, staring at nothing. Kyle sits beside him and holds the bowl out.

Johnny takes it from him, letting the warmth seep through the ceramic and into his palms. Then he eats. Just slow, small bites, like his body has just enough left in it to do this one thing. At some point he just sets the spoon down and Kyle takes the bowl from him without comment and puts it on the nightstand.

Kyle eases him back against the pillows, one hand between his shoulder blades, and Johnny goes, a bit boneless now, the bear tucked against his chest between his arms. Kyle pulls the blanket up and then pulls him in. Johnny's back against his chest, arm over him. Johnny doesn't say anything. Doesn't make a joke of it or laugh at Kyle's sudden gentle manner.

Kyle lies there in the dark and listens to his breathing slow down and even out, feels the last of the tremors work their way out of him. The room is quiet. Neither of them are asleep yet but neither of them speak.

Kyle feels Johnny tuck in closer to his chest, curling in around the bear, burrowing under the blankets.

Kyle places his chin on Johnny's head and closes his eyes.

[chloedollheart]

warning: smut, anal sex mentioned.

"Get on all fours."

Simon said, and you, being the inexperienced and innocent thing you were, thought he wanted to fuck your asshole.

"Umm... I've never done that, Si." You said shyly, a little fear creeping into your voice.

He looked at you in confusion. Of course he knew that. You'd literally had your first time with him only a few days ago.

Why were you telling him that again?

"I know that, love. It's okay." He thought you were just feeling shy about trying that position for the first time, so he treated you with calm and gentleness, like he always did.

"But I heard it hurts."

He tilted his head. He thought you were talking about how maybe that position could hurt a little, which he knew it didn't. But he respected your fear anyway.

"No, baby, it doesn't hurt. It's what we've been doing already, it'll feel the same as always, love."

"How is it the same?! It's literally another hole."

Huh?

Wait...

Ohhhh.

Now he understood what you meant.

You thought he wanted to do anal, and that the position was only meant for that.

Cute.

He smiled, trying to ease your nerves.

"Baby, I didn't mean that. It's still what we've been doing, just in a different position, okay? I would never ask you to do something like that without making sure you were comfortable with it first."

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Of course he hadn't meant that. How could you be so dumb?

"I-I'm sorry... I thought you meant the other kind of sex."

He smiled and kissed your cheek.

It was honestly cute to him how you were still figuring all of this out, and maybe he liked it even more knowing you were learning with him.

"It's okay, luvie... you still wanna try?"

I literally wrote this in 5 minutes lol sorry if it's bad

[codthrow]

my reaction to the mw4 trailer.......

where's gaz???

[hihhasotherfixations]

We see a looot of bear!Price in the fandom (for good fuckin reason!), but lately I've been low-key obsessed with the idea of him (and, honestly, Simon as well!) as prey animal hybrids.

I think a lot of people arrive at bear!Price because they're big, hairy, and extremely dangerous, just like HE is!

So, keeping those kinds of themes in mind, I've got a couple prey animals that come to mind:

Water buffalo (think Chief Bogo from Zootopia) - big, hairy, and dangerous as hell!

Red Deer are easily my favorite species of deer, and they're biiiig animals.

Some sort of bull (leaning Texas Longhorn, myself!).

Then, of course, you need your reader to be ironically matched to him:

Lion with the water buffalo; wolf with red deer, cougar for Texas longhorn (or maybe wolf).

Extra brownie points if Price keeps his horns or antlers cut short as hell; a bit of visual self sacrificing.

You genius. Absolutely yes. In this case I went with red deer, given those are actually native to the UK!

(Because this bitch loves some worldbuilding logic for au’s)

Despite Price being prey however, I cannot see him taking those instincts well. Man is a captain and wants to be listened to. Won’t take nothing else but obedience.

Word count: 1047

- - - -

Moving through the base, a recognisable set of antlers shifted through the halls. Tall, branched, slightly stained yellow at the base, all while peeking out of a dirty-beige hat.

John Price, captain of Task Force 141. Notorious terrorist hunters. And hybrids.

As he walked, his hooves clopped on the linoleum floors. A sound recognisable for most around; especially when going at this pace.

It meant someone was in trouble. And in this case, it was you.

For the past hour, this fox hybrid had been trying to goad you while you trained outside. Commenting on your features, your skills, your behaviour. No matter what you said or did, he stayed. After all, he was the same rank as you, you couldn’t send him off and he knew it.

Yet when the man hopped over, his thick tail brushing against your side as he turned with a mocking grin, you snapped.

Snarling, you’d grabbed him by the scruff and slammed him down, trying to use your sounds and features to intimidate as instinct took over.

Dominance displays were nothing new, no matter how unwanted they were. Yet the way in which they were done differed greatly. There were those where one was constantly invading space and testing boundaries. And then there were those that were a sudden explosion of aggression. It wasn’t hard to figure out which would get you in trouble sooner.

And the last thing your roided up brain needed was a prey animal added into the mix.

“Break it up!” Price’s voice boomed.

Immediately, your whole body stiffened, your tail’s fur spiking as your shoulders hunched in an almost raising of your hackles. You didn’t look away from the fox. But that didn’t lessen the impact of the deer hybrid.

While prey and predator had evolved to live together over time, there was one thing even the best discipline couldn’t entirely account for; genetic coding.

And unfortunately for Price, you and him were polar opposites. Your respective hybrid species having been in a war of nutrition since the dawn of evolution.

When you didn’t move off the guy, Price scowled, walking over and grabbing your scruff. With a firm yank, he pulled you away from the fox, instead slamming you into the nearest wall.

A brief yelp left you before you focused back on the captain, your teeth baring as he pushed you firmer into the wall, his scent invading your nostrils.

“Stand. Down.” He spoke lowly, shifting closer until his chest was nearly pressed to yours, eye contact firmly held.

“He started it!” You barked, pushing away from the wall as you pointed at the fox slowly getting up from the ground.

The moment you tried however, Price gripped your vest tight and slammed you into the wall with a snort, his antlers bashing into the bricks on either side of your head a moment later.

Blinking in surprise, your eyes turned back to the captain, his forehead nearly touching yours as he glared at you from mere centimetres away.

“Down, pup.” He said slowly, clear warning in both his voice and eyes.

Taking in a deep breath, you set your jaws, feeling the hard bone of his antlers on the side of your head when you shifted. He was close. Too close.

“Fine, I’m calm.” You murmured, staring back at him, but Price didn’t move. His grip on your vest stayed, still pushing you into the wall as he shifted, his nose nearly brushing yours as he stared, unblinking.

“You say that again once you stop bracing for a leap.”

At his words, you realised he was right. The muscles in your legs were coiled tight, claws digging into the gravel underfoot in an attempt to find purchase.

Carefully controlled, you tried to loosen your stance, only for a shift of gravel to the left to sound out. “Little wolf getting scolded by a buck.” The fox spoke as he got up, a grin on his face.

That was all that was needed. Instantly, your body tensed again and you attempted to push away, only for Price to be ahead of you. He re-slammed you back into the wall and pushed his chest into yours, forehead now pressed up against your own as his antlers dug into the stone.

His pressure was constant. Long, hooved legs made for a standoff like this as he kept you pinned, never breaking eye contact.

“Breathe.”

Huffing out in frustration, you finally tore your eyes away from the smug soldier, looking at your captain.

“Unlock your muscles. Take back your mind.”

His instructions were simple at the surface. Don’t let the instincts run rampant, calm down.

Easier said than done. Especially when said by the one hybrid you could never truly be at ease around.

There was always some part of you that was on alert when Price was around. Whether that was a sudden hunger, your eyes following his every step or the urge to hunt surfacing.

It was the reason both parties had been hesitant to get you onto the 141. Your natural species’ rivalry made for some complicated emotions.

But as you stood there, stared down by the red deer hybrid, even your instincts seemed to realise this was a fight you couldn’t win. And so, your legs slackened. Fur slowly flattening back down as you let out a shaky breath.

Seeing you calm down, Price slowly pulled his head back, still keeping a keen eye, watching for any change.

When none came, he stepped back. There were indents in the wall from where his antlers had sat, the gravel stirred up from his hooves and your paws.

Once more, a little snort came from the man and you closed your eyes, sighing out.

“Report to my office in an hour.”

His words had you crack your eyes back open to see the deer hybrid turn and walk away, showing his back to you.

Yet as he walked off to collect the fox hybrid and herd him to his office, you noticed the signs.

Pinned back ears, fist balled at his side but most of all: his small tail stuck straight up and trembling.

John Price was just as affected by instincts as you were.

Especially when encountering a big bad wolf.

- - - -

Might start writing more for this au. Feel free to drop ideas in my inbox!