#monster simon ghost riley

[cod-dump]

I’m not Simon Riley, I’m Ghost: Chapter 16

———

(note: I have gone back and combined some chapters and made some small updates to them, so if you noticed something was off that’s what it was lol)

———

Soap POV

———

Feeling returned to Soap's limbs far too slowly for his liking. But as more feeling returned, the more the overall panic he felt mellowed. He could move his hands enough to hold his own cup of water, though his strength wasn’t all there. Speech was a whole mess of its own. He couldn’t tell if Gaz with fucking with him about not being able to understand him or if he was being completely serious.

”Can you repeat that?”

”I’m going to kill you,” Soap hissed and Gaz laughed, maybe from surprise of finally understanding something or because his pestering was finally getting the reaction he wanted. The more he laughed the more Soap was convinced it was the former.

Price had taken no time to come and see Soap after Ghost left to inform him… and Ghost hadn’t returned with him. It made Soap’s chest ache but a thought quickly entered his mind, a reminder of their last interaction in France, right before Soap decided to be an idiot and run off. The thought made the ache go away and Soap was able to focus on Price.

”Farah was right, you’ll be walking by sundown.”

”He can barely hold a cup, Cap,” Gaz muttered to him.

Price looked to him, “And he couldn’t even get a word out a few hours ago.”

“Still can’t.”

Soap glares at Gaz grins, “Go fuck yourself.”

Gaz laughs and Soap can’t help but smile. It felt good being back at 141 base with Gaz and Price. The uncertainty of leaving Strasbourg when they did, the argument with Ghost, those creatures — Soap wasn’t one to leave like that, not finish the mission. Leaving it to the DGSE when they called for aid…

”Chin up, Sergeant.”

Soap meets Price’s gaze, the man knew. Of course he did, he was Captain Price. He was good at reading people and probably already knew what Soap was thinking about, most certainly having already pieced it all together before Soap even woke up what would be bothering him. Soap clears his throat when the silence goes on for longer than he would like.

”Where’s Ghost?”

”Watching his brother. Garrick and I have had enough of that bastard.”

Soap snorts, “He living up to Graves’ legacy?”

”Oh he’s so much worse,” Price groans.

Soap laughs, trying to imagine what Price has been through in the relatively short time frame they’ve been gone.

”He’s a lot creepier than Graves ever was,” Gaz mutters. Soap remembers that Gaz was watching Runt not too long ago, Price having dumped the duty onto him.

“I’m sure you’ll warm up to him.”

Soap’s attempt at teasing earns him an unamused glare. He grins before he looks to Price. Price‘s expression was rather neutral but his eyes showed he was very amused. He reaches out and pats Soap’s knee, Soap feeling relief that he could feel it.

”I have a meeting with Laswell in an hour. I better go get ready for whatever she has to say about the stunt you pulled.”

”She loves me.”

”That’s what saved your ass.”

Price gave Soap’s shoulder a firm pat before he left, Soap and Gaz watching him leave before Gaz turned to him. He wanted to say something, something he didn’t want Price around for. Soap takes a breath, he knows what’s going to come out of his mouth.

”Ghost said you left on your own.”

Soap cringes, “Wasn’t my best moment…”

”No it wasn’t… Suds, you’re smarter than that.”

”I felt like I had to do something. I couldn’t just leave knowing someone was putting weapons on the streets and slowly taking over the military.”

”Ghost said you lot were to leave.”

“Well Ghost doesn’t exactly care enough about humans to make the right call.”

Soap had only muttered under his breath but Gaz heard it all the same. The room became silent, too silent, as Gaz stared with wide eyes. Soap looks away, glaring at the wall. As his mind cleared, he was able to remember that interaction all too clearly.

”Johnny-“

”Don’t, Kyle. Don’t.”

Gaz shifted, remaining silent as Soap continues to refuse to look at him. Soap felt guilt prick at his skin, he shouldn’t have said that. But he also felt he had the right. He sighed quietly, he felt betrayed though Ghost did no such thing. Ghost had only reminded him of what he was, Soap was the fool that refused to acknowledge it.

"Watch your tone, sergeant."

"No, I won't! 141 is for the people! We are here to save lives-"

"You are here to save lives! I'm here to survive!"

He felt his eye twitch at the memory. He felt like and idiot setting Ghost up as a courageous hero, that image somehow keeping hold even when Ghost revealed his un-human nature. It felt like a betrayal and Soap felt stupid for feeling that way.

”You should talk to the captain about this.”

Soap blinked and finally looked to Gaz, “Why?”

”You know why.”

With that, Gaz stood and left the room. Soap felt a chill on his skin and the guilt continued to prick at him. He swallowed before he looked away from the door.

Need to watch your mouth, MacTavish.

—

“Squeeze my hand, Sergeant. As hard as you can.”

Soap did as Farah told him, gripping her hand firmly. She nods, him instantly releasing her hand.

”How‘s your head feeling?”

”Clear.”

”Good.”

Farah wanted to personally examine Soap to make sure he had recovered from the spell. With how quickly they were going through his examination, Soap believed he had recovered fully. Farah clearly has done this more than once, knowing all she needed to test and what to look for.

”Did you reverse the spell or whatever? I don’t remember anything.”

”Your friend Engel in Strasbourg. He lifted it before he went to deal with the director.”

”Any word from him… or the director?”

”Don’t worry about that now, Soap.”

Farah doesn’t answer any other questions regarding the matter as her one of her men, a doctor, comes into the room. Soap recognized him as the man who examined him and tested his blood after Ghost had bitten him.

After he tried to kill me, Soap thought to himself. But he didn’t. He didn’t want to. He wouldn’t.

”Hello again, Sergeant MacTavish.”

”Let me guess, you want a sample.”

”Just a precaution, Sergeant. To make sure you stay human. Or so we can be on top of it if you change.”

Soap stayed still as Dr. Osin took a sample of his blood. He and Farah spoke in Arabic, Soap feeling like a child waiting for the adults to finish talking. After Dr. Osin ran several tests, he and Farah turned back to Soap.

”Congratulations, Sergeant. You’re still human.”

Soap snorts, “Yay me.”

”Have you eaten?”

”Only those damn jelly cups they keep stocked down the hall. I would love some real food, even slop from the cafeteria.”

Farah grins, “I think I can do you one better. Takeaway?”

”Takeaway? For little ol’ me? Feeling spoiled here.”

”I figured a walk would do you some good.”

Soap felt a prickle at his skin, an uneasiness in the air. She wants him off base, most certainly to talk. Farah had a smile on her face, her body relaxed, but the air about her was on edge. Soap’s mind went to Ghost and his brother. Were they the reason she was like this?

”I wouldn’t mind a walk.”

Farah smiles, “Good.”

—

“This looks unhealthy.”

”That’s how you know it’s good.”

A drive into town before they walked the rest of the way to the restaurant Farah had in mind. It did feel nice to go out for a walk in town and not be thrown back into the chaos on base. Eventually he would have to go back to it, but not just yet.

”Seriously, Commander, let me pay for this.”

”You don’t have your wallet.”

”… Shit. Don’t have my phone either.”

Soap pats his pockets, he definitely had at least his phone earlier. Where is it? Farah grabs his attention by clearing her throat.

”Don’t worry about that at the moment, John.”

Soap froze, “… You have something serious you want to talk about, don’t you?”

”Can’t trust your phone not being bugged.”

”Why the fu-“

Farah holds her hand up and Soap cuts himself off. She waits a moment, taking a bite of her food and savoring it for a moment.

”This is good. Should eat yours before it gets cold.”

Soap gives Farah a look before he eats his food. They ate in silence, enjoying their tame surroundings and the chill in the air. Soap couldn’t look away from her, he could only suspect why she brought him here away from base. She had to want to be away from Ghost and Runt, though he doesn’t see them bugging his phone.

”You think loud, John.”

”Why did you bring me here?”

Farah sips her drink, taking her time. Soap bounced his knee, his nerves starting to get to him.

”I hadn’t noticed before, Nik had to point it out.”

”Point what out?”

”It came to a shock to you that I knew my way around non-humans.”

”… is Nik-?”

”Non-human? I have no clue, honestly. Wouldn’t surprise me. What I do know is that he pointed out there was a… double agent in base. Noticed something off about them.”

”A double agent… what, they’re pretending to be human?”

”Most certainly.”

”Shit.”

“Nik went to pull away Price to tell him in a secure location. We decided to be quiet about it so we didn’t alert them that we knew, so we’re pull ing each of the core members aside industry. We think they might be after sensitive data and want them to continue digging so we can see if we can catch them off guard.”

Soap blinks as he thinks back to Ghost appearing in his room, telling him someone was in his office.

”Fuck, they were already in Ghost’s office snooping around.”

Farah looks at him, watching him closely. Soap met her gaze before looking away. Did he say something wrong?

”They were in Ghost’s office… how do you know that?”

”He told me.”

“He told you… but didn’t tell Price.”

“He couldn’t- Wasn’t out yet he wasn’t human, he smelled someone in there. Wasn’t any evidence otherwise.”

”He could’ve fabricated evidence…”

Soap looks away from Farah, her hard gaze making him uneasy. Ghost could’ve just told Price he had an off feeling, he didn’t even need to tell him anything else. But that didn’t happen. As far as Soap knows he never went to Price about it—

He went to me… he told me that night.

“Looks like he does like you, Sergeant. Likes you quite a bit.”

Soap couldn’t help but notice what Farah said was very mischievous sounding. The way there was a brief smirk when he looked up before it was pushed away as if she had just remembered she wasn’t teasing him about another human having a liking to him. That told Soap had truly strange it all was. With how the vampires acted towards him in France, Runt’s own curiosity — Ghost liking him was abnormal.

He wanted to kill you but didn’t. He didn’t even know why.

Soap rubs his face with a groan. What did he do to get himself into this situation?

Farah standing, scooting her chair back on the pavement grabbed his attention. She had her wallet in hand.

”Chin up, Sergeant. We have work to do.”

Soap blinks before he nods.

”Yes, ma’am.”

———

[bluegiragi]

quid pro quo

early access + nsfw on patreon monster!AU masterpost

[deunmiu-dessie]

he misses you. he misses you like a flower misses the sun. like the desert misses the rain. like you are the entirety of his being. as if you hold the key to his fierce, thumping bloody heart within the palm of your hands, like he is nothing without you— and perhaps he isn't. he doesn't feel like himself, no, in fact, he feels empty. like a shell of the man he used to be before you. he feels as though the world has lost its color, its meaning, and it makes him feel bare— it makes him feel.

he misses you. he misses the warmth of your perfume, a sweet and spicy blended aroma of saffron and sugared lavender. he misses your smile, all wide and pretty— genuine and charming, and always all for him. he misses the sound of your laughter, raw and boisterous, but sometimes soft and breathy, intimate. he misses your kisses, shy and cloying— yet fierce and angry at times as well. he misses the small things, like the scatter of moles across the expanse of your body that he finds himself counting when he can't fall asleep. or the way you fuss over him, mumbling curses and your love for him all in the same sentence.

he is nothing without you, and he knows it all too well.

the soft jangle of your keys in the lock makes him look up from his journal, the door swinging open. and despite himself, he finds that he's softened underneath your warm, loving gaze. ah, he also misses the sound of your voice, euphonious and soft, a tone you use for him specifically.

❝why are you looking at me like that?❞

he can feel his heart dance within his chest, pounding fiercely as you slant your hip to the side, the very same hips he adores holding onto when swaying with you to music. your eyes, which always seem to sweep him under with their intensity with no fail, are glittering with mirth, it knocks the breath from his chest. ❝ i adore you,❞ he utters— he sounds like a fool in love, and he doesn't particularly mind it. your cheeks flush with color and you playfully roll your eyes. that's alright, you don't need to say it back, he knows.

❝help me with the groceries?❞

he? ⸺ SIMON, gojo satoru, DAMON SALVATORE, soap, older!TANJIRO, scott mccall, GAZ, clark kent, EMMETT CULLEN, leon kennedy, STEVE HARRINGTON, giyu tomioka, JOHN PRICE, loran, ULYSSES, rick grimes, KÖNIG, dick grayson, SPENCER REID.

honestly it can be anyone you envision.

[s3rrrpentine]

soap will be hearing dad jokes but like 3 times

[sweetiecutie]

Warnings: smut, mdni, monsterfucking

Even though underbed monster! Simon is a brat and very often a nuisance, he still cares about you!! You are his favourite hooman after all, his feeder, gladly allowing him to nourish off your energy, giving him small treats and indulging in all his little whims. So of course Ghost is worried when you come back home after having an especially bad day, all hot and bothered, chucking down a few glasses of whiskey to ease your mind - but it didn’t seem to help much. Ghost feels the need to soothe you, to make you forget all the bad events of the day, empty your head of all the thoughts and worries, to make you feel good and loved!

That’s why your not so little monster urges you to take off your clothes, his tentacles spreading your thighs open, exposing your gorgeous pussy to his crimson eyes. One tiny tentacle wraps itself around the needy bud of your clit, rubbing it softly yet firmly, causing wetness to drip down the cleft of your ass in a matter of minutes. Simon makes sure to hit and nudge all of the special spots within your soft cunny as he stuffs you full of himself, making you squeal and writhe in pure pleasure under him, your eyes rolling back and toes curling as you cum repeatedly.

And only after turning you into a sobbing boneless mess, all fucked out and happy, does your underbed monster ease three of his tentacles out of your sore and raw pussy, wrapping himself around your still trembling form and purring satisfyingly somewhere in your neck, clinging to you for some warmth.

Underbed monster! Simon likes you very much after all, so he does everything in his power to keep his favourite hooman happy<3

Requests are open<3 Feedback is very appreciated, give writers some love🩷

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

I don't think you understand

The mer price fic is absolute perfection.

Like I'm talking a literal masterpiece

This fic will stay engraved in my brain forever. You're an absolutely amazing writer. Thank you ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

anon, THANK you. i am actually thrilled to see other people enjoying mer Price and remora reader as much as i do. please please please let me brain dump more about Price taking remora reader back to his home reef to meet the rest of shark mer 141:

SOAP is enamored instantly because you're so fucking grabbable.

within moments of seeing you peek out from behind Price's tail, he darts around and snatches you up with greedy hands. you're so small!! so tiny and cute when you squirm. and you make noises. 

he handles you like a toy until Price barks at him to cut it out. he does (and Price makes him promise not to be so rough with you; you're fragile, he claims) but Soap is incorrigible.

he follows you for days afterward. just obsessed. he loves chasing your silver tail as you dart around the reef, trying to hide from him. when he catches up to you, you have little choice but to give in and let him manhandle you. he certainly toes the line of whatever Price meant when he said no rough play, you little shit, i mean it.

he pushes the limits of your docile nature. when you do eventually reach the end of your patience and dart out of his hands just to get a break from his grabby claws, guess what? you've triggered his prey drive and he gives chase. he catches you, of course, and then before he can stop himself, he bites you.

your squeal brings Price out into the open instantly and Soap gets an earful again. he grins at you the whole time as you hide over Price's shoulder.

after that, Soap gets a little craftier about it. he eases up just enough to figure out exactly how playful (rough) he can be before you can't take any more. he learns how to stop just shy of making you shriek again. Price is aware, but he's a little too indulgent to stop it. he's happy to let Soap have his fun as long as he doesn't break you. you just have to suck it up. that indulgent nature is how you ended up with Price in the first place, after all.

goes without saying, but Soap is the first one to use you as a sex toy.

GHOST seems to take zero interest in you at first. you're not the sharpest urchin in the tide pool, are you? you can't be if you're here willingly. he figures you won't stick around long, and if you do, you won't stay intact.

you attempt to take up grooming his skin and tail and teeth as you do with the others. he moves away from you without a word, lashing his scarred tail to re-settle himself several feet away.

if you follow and try to groom him again, you earn a deep growl.

you dart off the moment he voices that rumbling displeasure. he notes your skittishness around him and uses it to make you leave him alone.

you, however, have a job to do. you won't be scared off that easily.

after he chases you off that way a few times, you begin to find him and simply sit near him. mirroring him. no big deal. instead of grooming him, you use the time to groom yourself. can't keep everyone else clean if you're grimy, after all.

he notices you and growls to warn you off again. you pretend not to hear.

he flicks his tail in irritation, considers cuffing you over the head to teach you a lesson, but you're too far away to reach without kicking his whole big self up into the water to move several feet. so he elects instead to turn over and ignore you. you keep this up for several days. you sit a little closer every time.

one day, you finish cleaning your own tail fin and casually begin to clean his. he growls. you pause. when he stops and does nothing further, you resume your work. he growls again, and you continue grooming him as if you don't hear him. he keeps growling, but once you begin to run your claws over a stubborn patch of skin to dislodge some stuck grit that's been bothering him, his growling fades into grumbling. and then silence. he lets you keep at it. victory.

this becomes a habit. you seek him out (never the other way around) and typically find him lazing on the floor of some cave or sunning in the reef's shallows. you set to work grooming him thoroughly. all business. he grumbles and growls occasionally when you move his arm or tug your fingers through his hair, but he never stops you.

one day, Soap comes looking for you and finds you in the middle of this little cleaning ritual. Soap nudges you away, insisting you instead let him chase you around the reef. but the moment your hands leave Ghost's rough skin and he hears you protest, he opens his eyes and snaps his teeth at Soap.

Soap pulls back (and so do you) until Ghost grasps your lil wrist and drags you back down wordlessly to where you were sitting and cleaning his shoulder.

Soap smirks at him. Ghost glares back.

"you got something to say, then say it."

"here i thought you were toleratin' it for her sake. seems i misjudged the situation."

"there is no situation."

"whatever you say."

Soap leaves with a flick of his tail. you're so pleased that, when you're finished grooming Ghost, you burrow yourself between his arms as he lays on his side. you nuzzle into his neck and bunt your head up against him, practically purring now that you know you've apparently won him over.

he grabs you, pretending to be disgruntled, but then instead of releasing you he crushes you against his chest again and settles in for a nap. no, you don't get to leave.

GAZ wonders what exactly is going on inside your head. it doesn't escape his notice that your """instincts""" seem to have you by the throat in this situation. but he suspects you're leaning a bit more into that whole brainless servant thing than you're letting on.

he's perfectly happy to let you groom him, flatter him, fetch him whatever baubles or snacks he'd like at the moment; he's perfectly polite to you, too. really likes it when you butter him up. tell him he's got the sharpest teeth and the strongest muscles and the fastest tail in the reef and he'll listen to you for hours, preening in the sunlight as you clean the grime off his fins.

plus, he praises you too, and you love that. that's why it takes you so long to notice he's watching you much more closely than anyone else is.

see, you've already disarmed Price. Soap sees you as a toy more than a fellow mer. Ghost cares more about finding the best places to lurk around than understanding the little mer that shares their reef now. it's fascinating--how you've successfully passed yourself off as a silly, stupid little fish. the more he watches you, analyzes you, the more he wonders what exactly you're getting out of this.

when you groom him each day, he asks you questions. casual ones. are you enjoying the reef? what games do you like to play? how fast can you swim? how many other mer have you met? are you eating enough? what's your favorite food?

it's enough to make you wary, but then, he seems harmless. you're honest with him. it pays off, because when you tell him how much you like the taste of those little brown seabirds that dip into the reef from time to time, you're shocked the next day to find one of those very seabirds sitting dead--neck cleanly snapped--just for you in the shallow alcove next to where Price sleeps (and you by extension).

you find Gaz that instant and insist it's too kind a gift; you can't accept it. what you can't tell him is that it's not a good idea for you to eat in front of them. you eat scraps, and you eat them where of them can see. that's the deal--obviously you do what you do for these four sharks in exchange for protection and ostensibly for food, but you need to avoid looking like you're taking more than your fair share. and to sharks, a species that is notoriously food-aggressive, your fair share must be vanishingly small.

he just smiles at you--so disarmingly that you flounder for a moment. somehow he convinces you to keep the kill.

he begins to turn up--looking amused but not surprised--when you steal scraps of food after the group has had its fill of a fresh kill. it makes you nervous for him to see you with food in hand (much less to watch you eat) but he scoffs at the idea of holding it against you. 

at some point, he begins to bring you fresh meat himself. this is-- it's unacceptable. you're supposed to be the one working while he rests. he's not allowed to give you that kind of comfort. if you're not earning your keep, after all, you don't have a place here. you push his gifts away, busying yourself with some other task. he insists. you decline.

"you're refusing me?" he asks, feigning surprise. "i thought that went against your instincts."

you fluster, ruffling up in what he assumes is a pout. he's trapped you in a catch-22. ultimately, you have to accept the stupid meat-gift because it's what he wants. you find this makes you more irritable than it should. he smirks at you, which serves to irritate you more.

he pulls you into his lap as you eat. and he thinks it's so cute the way you scowl the whole time.

from then on, whenever you act a little too stupid for his liking, he pries and pokes and prods until he draws out that other, haughtier side of you. he has a knack for frustrating you. he loves to sass you, and when you finally drop the act and sass him back, he falls a little bit more in love with you every time.

...

more mer au / masterlist tag

[yandere-kokeshi]

— His Mate

Pairing || Yandere werewolf! Ghost x gn reader

Summary || Working on a dangerous mission, you and Ghost re-meet after being separated. However, something goes wrong— making Ghost reveal his trust identity and his obsession for you, to come forth.

Warnings || yandere, lycropathy, imprinting(?), and smut: dubcon, gender-neutral genitals, descriptions of the reader having pubic hair, talks about kids, size difference, blood obsession(?), oral (reader receiving), breeding, knotting, and slight somnophilia

It’s a dire situation. 

To the explosions, nearly being hit by a bullet, and now being separated from 141 during the firefight, you’d navigate north to a safe house, rather a cabin dispatched amongst the coms you’d flipped too. 

The language was hardly understandable, but you were able to pick up some words. 

It’s freezing cold, the gush of rain pouring down on you as lightning cracks above your head. Gear soaked through, hair damp and covered in likely blood and mud; if not more. The moisture and ice surrounding you was working to create a deep freeze into your narrow bones, and it’s working– pretty damn well, too. 

Mud splatters your camo-clad shins as you sprint through the forest terrain, heart lurching out of your chest as your soaked fingers fumbled with your gun to the sodden ground.  

The moist and crispy air of midnight caked your face with frozen lids, blood staining your face. Your lungs were burning, legs cramping and stinging from the amount of running you’ve achieved. 

You continue going, thunder rumbling in the clouds above, exhaustion gnaws at your joints as you shoot and cut-throat enemies from behind, their thick blood staining your face, and hands. Creating an emotionless barrier; nothing behind your eyes but annoyance.

If it weren’t for your radio, you’d be pestering Ghost. But due to the stray bullet, that certainly would’ve ripped through your heart if not for the layers of plastic settled over it, you had to count on your distance and not for help.

Just a little more, and you’ll arrive. And from there, you can focus on radioing the team; shooting a private message to Ghost to ensure your safety. He was protective, after all. But, for now, you had too—

Crack. 

Before you could react, chaos erupts — the sounds of trees cracking down as an explosion comes from behind you. The wave of warmth and smell of gunpowder settled into your lungs. A bomb had gone off. 

Panicked voices overlay each other in different languages. The thumps of bodies and flurry of shouts shot you to your very core. Breathing heavily, adrenaline coursing through your veins, you find yourself hiding behind a sturdy tree.

The bark cutting at your palms, a reminder of the unforgiving chaos that surrounds you as you brace for incoming fire. Instantly, you gripped the gun slung behind your shoulder and started reloading it; cursing at yourself for not doing it sooner. 

As it clicked, ready and loaded, someone shouted out a name. 

“Ghost!” someone wails, and your blood runs cold, eyes widening. The whizzing of high-powered bullets persists, dropping mercenaries into the mud beneath them. 

You hear yelled orders, fighters urged to retreat by the incoming deaths, like a poison parade. 

Before you know it, all that’s left is the sound of your ears buzzing, the aftermath of the familiar bomb — the infinite number of trees swaying as more lightning struck ahead of you. Your brain was splattered, focusing on your inner voice instead of the upcoming footsteps. 

“Cobra, come out.”

You hesitate, teeth digging into your bottom lip. But with the thick, British accented voice familiarized to your brain, you eased your head out, clenching your grip on the gun as you checked for any more enemies before your eyes landed on the man itself. His hulking build that you could recognize anywhere. 

You’d be lying if you said you were unperturbed by the sight, fallen enemy combatants surrounded him, his gear covered in blood, as was his skull mask stained with gore. 

It was considered normal — but with the moon outlining his silhouette, the light bouncing off the turbid forest floor behind him, it was intimidating. 

Almost as if it was a warning about what was coming. What was ahead in the future. 

“Price sent me your last coordinates before you went AWOL,” Ghost states, clearing his throat as he bent down. Knees loudly popping as his hand curled around the knife, deepened inside a soldier’s head, and pulled it out with a thick sound. 

The gush of gore, and the slick sound of the knife easily coming out, made you cringe. Your throat tightened, you wanted to gag but stopped yourself as he shot a look at you. 

“Left quite a mess back there,” he added, looking at you with sharpened eyes as he stood back up. His knees popping yet again. His gun shuffled as he wiped the bloody knife onto his pant leg, before putting it back into the original place. 

You forced a smile, shrugging your shoulders playfully, “It’s what I’m best at, no?”

He let out a chuckle, something that wasn’t rare or common to hear. But it was something. Something that left you tingling. 

He stayed quiet and looked at you — almost like he could see, and feel you. Though, he spoke up after noticing your awkward stance.

“Le’s get going, safe house is ahead. From there, I’ll radio Price.”

Staring into the bubbling pan of water settled over the small fire, you relish in warmth that creeps across your chilled body. Still, you’re soaked, the scent of iron and mud assaults your nose, the water that you pick off the fire cautiously heated enough to scrub the blood off your face and hands. 

Though, as you look up at Simon, you quickly notice his demeanor is off; something amiss. Sure, he’s cold. But, he’s colder – brown eyes that are seemingly covered in nothing. Almost like something has taken over him, nothing of him is there; non-exist, and non-recognizable.  

His distant and blocking agency seems somewhat peculiar – lost in thought, intermittently clicking his tongue whilst cleaning his gun. Concerned, you gently approach, offering a caring inquiry: “You okay?” you ask. 

To which, he nods with a grunt. But you didn’t buy it, it was clear something was bothering him. But he’s known for being stubborn and not one to let people in unless necessary. 

Ghost had seated himself in the corner of the large, relatively empty room – looking quite ridiculous. He was attempting to fit himself in the short-legged chair as he was cleaning his weapons, and you had to hold back a laugh. You dipped the dripping rag back into the hot water, dragging it across your skin.

“Y’know…” you started, making him stop before looking up at you. “You can tell me whatever is botherin’ you. I’m not like Johnny.”

“I’m fine.” 

You raised your eyebrow at his reply, making him grunt as a less efficient, threatening way of ‘quit it before I make you’. 

“Are you sure?” You pressed on, “It definitely seems like something is on your mind. And while I may not—”

Ghost said your name in a threatening tone. His brown eyes watching you from beneath the mask. Eyes boring into you, watching you struggle to remove what was left of the grime and gore that failed to wash away. 

You sighed, and puckered out your lips like a duck, “Whatever you say, Mr. Grumpy-pants.” 

Minutes blurred by you, and before you know it, the small fire had set itself out; embers flickering around as that was the only thing keeping you two sane. You groaned, looking behind you the next minute before standing up.

“Going to get more wood,” you say out loud, and Simon had nodded — letting yourself feel a bit more relieved before your hand barely curled at the knob, and it’s when you heard it; the most guttural sound that sounded like a blend of a growl and snarl.

He said your name in a painful whisper. Not your code name– your right name. 

As you turn, you see him on his knees; his large hand grasping his chest. Heart attack? No. Something highly on not happening. But… panic attack?

“Ghost?” you asked, concerned, stepping forward before stopping at his shaking head. He was in pain and it was hurting you.

“Fuck—” he grunted, heaving as his body started to shake violently. “D-on’t come closer.”

Your eyebrows raise automatically, looking at him eerily. “Why can’t I get close to you?”

He grunted, moaning out in pain again, as yet another growl erupted from the bellows of his chest. And before you could say anything else, his holster gun fell from his arm to the floor. The sound of clattering and the smell of aforementioned sensed you to reality. 

“I- we need to get you up, what’s going on—!”

Almost as if the universe tricked you, ripping came next — the man you knew was no longer there. But instead, a hulking black-wolf took his place, boring holes in you and cracking each bone in his skeleton into places. 

Like a Cobra, you stiffened. Ready to attack the friend you once knew. 

“Ghost…?” you confessed, heavy breathing as adrenaline shot through you. By the time you whispered his name, he grew in size. Being too large. Too inhuman. Monstrously. Midnight mass fur grew onto his body, the sounds of bones breaking and reforming, his gear tearing off like nothing as scarred ears, a large snout, and patched fur grew all over him like parasites — paralyzing you like venom. 

You couldn’t fathom his form, taking a few steps back as he whined out in pain; teeth, once human, now becoming a famous creature that you imagined as a myth. 

And these eyes, they were wide and bright as Amber and honey, the color that contrasted greatly through the darkness. They were large and squinted, and the sound of snarling brought you to know you were being threatened.

But yet, you couldn’t do anything. 

His military boots outgrew, rising and shredding apart as the feet he once had, turned into paws with long claws. The curving nails scraped into the wooden floor, snapping of planks and splinters flew around his feet, echoing the noises of his cracking bones and whines of pain. 

It was practically towering over you, all muscle and height, and it made you feel powerless underneath it, trapped under its hardened gaze and intensity of its possible strength.

You let a small gasp out, uneven breaths being snaked out as he licked his chops, rearing back, bending the wooden-planks and the fallen gun underneath his weight. Turning his canine head at your expression. 

“S-imon…?” you whimper, hands shaking as you winced at the bones still cracking. 

His large head came down, eyeing you deeply at one side before walking forward, nudging at your leg. The sound you didn’t want to let out was paralyzed by fear, you didn’t want to let him know you were rather scared, as you watched with no knowledge of what he could do next. 

He left you no room to move, the fear finally choking you of words. And you could only babble out words that would normally leave you embarrassed.

“Who— what… are you?” your gaze turned to him, reminding yourself that your demand was weak. You knew so, but a bigger part of you was buried in denial. He was Ghost. Still is.

His eyes, once cold, a beautiful brown, and stood on deck, now were sharp and bright with yellow, contrasting so strongly against his scarred, ripped fur and inky shades. His head barely grazed the top of the ceiling, his ears flickering as more bones cracked in place. The snapping and crunching was horrifying. 

“Smell– your smell… sweet,” those words fell into your stomach and sank like lead. His whiskered lips and sharp teeth curved around his spotted gums. He growled, smelling– grinning at your feared state, “Mine. You’re mine.” 

Before you could think, your feet kicked his chest backwards — he roared, taking a few steps back from your move. 

Seconds blurred by you, and right as you lunged toward the door beside you, nearly skinning your knees on the floor, you heard a thick snarl from the beast behind you. 

His claws, bigger than your head, were suddenly pinned at your hips and yanked you back, making you face plant onto the floor before he dragged you enough feet away for his satisfaction. Capturing you more into the depth of his hold.

Blood– you tasted it before feeling it, your nose bleeding from the impact, and you groaned; the smell of iron making its way back to you, and he noticed this. 

He turned you right-side up, his claws ripping holes in your clothes. You let a small whimper out, as his large head came to nudge at your shoulder. Almost as if he was trying to calm you, showing he wasn’t a threat.

He whined out, taking your quiet frame and heaving breaths as more fear — apologizing for hurting his beloved. 

And with that, his warm wet and pink tongue suddenly started lapping at your arm, then your neck and finally a rough lick from your jawline up towards your nose. Starting at, licking up the very same blood that’s coming down your face — nearly suffocating you with his rough texture. 

He needed to comfort his mate. His, his, his!

You grimaced at his tongue, the rough black and pink muscle not stopping when you moved side to side, trying to dodge it. Was he now tasting you for taste? 

You pushed at its brawny chest to get some space, but he didn’t listen– his rough tongue continuing his assaults. Behind him, you could see glimpses of a tail swinging strongly behind him; the thick tail slightly wagging at your blood. 

Fuck. What was he going to do? Rut you? Fill you? Mark you? Kill you?

Suddenly, he growled — earning a gasp from you, as you watched his pupils dilate, his tongue coming out to heave; dried blood on his muscle. 

“Don’t mean to scare ya’. Jus’ drivin’ me insane, sweetheart,” he states, licking your jaw one last time before his claws – trying to on being careful – shreds your gear and pants to bits. 

You answered with your frozen stiff body, a long wine erupting from the man above you as your teeth chatted one against each other.

“Let… me go, Simon. Now!” you demanded, but his claw rose from your bruised hip and cocked a sharp nail to your chin, making you look up at him; his golden irises digging holes into your soul. Deepening his animal need for you.

“I jus’ got you, I promise I’ll treat you well.” he purred in your ear, licking yet another strip at your face before making his way down to your sex. 

“Simon–!”

“You’ll be mine, nobody will take you away from me; fill you full of my cum. Mark you, take care of you. Until I’m satisfied.” he said while lifting your lower body up from the ground, grabbing your ankles to set them beside his head, his hot breath shaking you to your core. 

“NO!” you screamed, suddenly snapping back to reality. His ears folded in an angry expression, the sound positively jarring to his sensitive ears. “No– you can’t, no, no! You won’t–!” 

His body was heavy, one paw leaning against your stomach to keep you still. You didn’t even realize you were squirming until he applied more weight, earning you a whine that you didn’t even know you could let out until now. 

“Mine,” he growled, “That’s what you are,” Simon pressed his wide hips forward, making you feel his cock– his long, swelling hot, and erect cock that was awaiting to be stuffed inside you. His knot pulsing, as if it was begging to feel your taut walls clenching around it. 

You shook your head, denying his claims. Denying his appearance. This is a dream, this is a dream. A dream!

But when he tore away your undergarments, flattening his tongue over your fluttering entrance, the sensation caused you to realize —- nothing of this ‘dream’ was fake, but instead of a standing still. 

He stuffs his whole snout into your bush and groans. The feeling is alien, his muzzle warm and wet, and you shudder with it. “You smell divine.”

You attempt to swat him away, but to no avail, he growls at your antics, showing his teeth as a warning.

“Tastes good,” he purrs, his deep and raspy voice shuddering you. He started licking long, broad strokes and making unwanted moans escape your lips — fingers digging into your bruised thighs, and his saliva adding to the sensations. 

You cry out, bucking your hips into his maw as he grunted– licking up all your juices like his last meal. Walls clamp down on his thick tongue, thrusting it in and out of your hole as you’re subjected to the pleasure. 

Though, just as your stomach starts getting warm; your abdomen heating up like a lamp, he pulls away. Making you whine out. 

“M’ make you cum in a few.”

Ghost towers over you — his thick structure showing off his heated, non-sheathed cock. Making you realize what he’s referring to as his swollen tip nudges at your entrance; the pulsing heat making you clench your thighs unintentionally. 

“Won’t fit–! No. Simon—!”

You cried out as he growled in response, his tongue licking your neck to soothe the oncoming pain. It hurts so bad. Yet so good as he fills you so full. 

You prayed he’d be gentle– but you knew better. And in a rough instant, your stomach swelled, and fire consumed you. Air rushed out from your lungs from his thick, girthy cock into your tightening, barely prepped channel, and you quiver in ecstasy at how utterly full you are right now. 

The beast, Simon, grunts and heaves; some of his drool drops on your face as he tries to calm you down with him nudging his head into your face. 

“Oh– fuck,” you whispered, panting as your teeth bit into your bottom lip.

Simon’s thick paw continued to press on your stomach, hitching out breaths as his cock slowly started to piston in and out of you. “You’d look so pretty, filled with my babies. Getting all swollen and full of my cum.”

He smirked– his thick teeth shining in the dim fire, dragging his tongue up your neck.

“Breed– need to breed you,” he gave a harsh thrust, making you feel the thick part of his cock pushing inside. He let you cry out as your legs curled around his lower hips, tightening your hold as he hit that part. 

And without another word, he shoves his cock back out and in, pounding into your soaked hole with animalistic, determination and vigor speed. With Simon being so deep into you, you didn’t even realize you were begging for more, and more. 

“Wa—eugh” you gurgled, smearing your tears against his fur as with each slap of the furry balls on his body, he sank further. His fat cock splits you open and makes a mess of sweat, tears, and drool on the wooden floor of the abandoned shack. 

It’s too much, too much— it’s too good.

Your walls tighten up around him, making him snarl out, bullying his cock into you at a more rapid pace as he pulls away from your neck; grunting in your ear with promises. 

“Fill you with my cum– belly so full. Full of my pups, I promise.” 

As if he didn’t nearly split you in half, he took himself almost out; gripping your hips before turning you on your stomach, making you support yourself on your bruised knees as his claws nicked your skin. 

He spread apart your ass, plunging back inside, and continuing with his animalistic pace; heaving and snarling above you. 

“—plea—god!” your nails scraped at the wood, leaving marks that you didn’t care about. All you cared about was his knot. His, his, his. Everything of his cum. “Fuck–! Knot… Wan’ your knot!” 

You babble nonsense, your body growing tired as his knot was slowly getting bigger– creating delicious friction as it rubbed against your inner walls. But, interrupting your soon-to-be climax was Simon coming down, leaning on your lower back for support as he snarled, aggressively nipping at your shoulder before licking the open wound. 

You were his — his mate, his to claim in every way. 

Without hesitation, he bit on the back of your shoulder. Hard. You cried out, feeling blood trickle down your arm and neck, tears pricking in the corner of your ears. And Simon whined. 

He didn’t mean to do that! He was so out of focus on breeding you, he had hurt you. Comfort. He needs to comfort you.

Simon didn’t stop licking– not until he saw that your tears were long gone, and the smell of fear and shock had gone away. But instead, blinding lust and more was demanded. 

And you could no longer talk, pain lingering, but pleasure buzzing on the edges of your nerves. Numbing every sensation but the beast within you and blanked the world but him, and his inhuman cock stretching you too big. Time didn’t exist. 

Your body grew tense– a white-hot flash washing you whole. Your abdomen was tightening so much it hurt, and then it snapped. And suddenly — everything grew too much. 

You cried out, tears forming out of stimulation, but he wasn’t done. You couldn’t think anymore, and after several moments of his vigorous fucking, he howls– his knot expanding painfully, stretching it to unbeknownst size, and his cock twitches violently as he spills inside, the large load obscene within you. 

The stretching ended with an audible pop, stuffing you completely as he bucked his hips at your squirming. “G—” you stumbled with the start, “G-get out of me!” you tried elbowing him, pleasure growing to a near painful degree before his claws grabbed your bicep gently. 

Then, your stomach felt heavier. It hurts so good, and so hot.

He purred, “Be quiet, honey— m’ filling you real hot.”

He fucks into you for another few, sloppy thrusts before he stops to ‘clean’ you. Nudging you with his wet nose into your neck affectionately, 

You’re a proper mess now. The load of cum feels obscene within you, all warm and sticky. He held you against his taut chest, rumbling in a way that felt like a cat purring; somehow soothing you. 

His thick claw gripped under your chin, forcing you to look at him as he huffed quietly, “I’ll take real good loving care of ya’ and our lil’ pups.” he jostled you somehow deeper to just the right spot, and you whimpered; quite in a state of being fucked raw by a beast who has it’s knot stuck inside you. 

“…are we staying like this?” you asked, looking down, curious and intimidated by the sight below. Mustering some strength, you slid down a tingling hand to support you as Ghost licked your shoulder. 

“For a while, I reckon,” you arched your back as his teeth slithered across your beating pulse. 

Fuck, a single movement by him has you wanting more. But you’re tired. So, so tired. 

You tremble and whimper, feeling his cock still hard — your limbs now coming limp with exhaustion as your eyes roll back into your skull. You’re so tired on Ghost’s monstrously cock that you don't even notice that he lays down with you, cradling your body close to his warm one.

“You’re mine. All mine,” he mutters, feeling your heartbeat succumb to sleep before he starts grinding into your ass. You whined, murmuring something. But he shushes you, making you fall into a blissful sleep as the man, the monster you once knew, keeps rutting into you from behind.

—

Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

[diejager]

if you’re still writing for the monster 141, what about a bay hybrid reader, who is just on the edges on going into hibernation because the base is in a colder area/remote snowy location

I’m gonna assume you mean bear?

Cw: bear hybrid!readr, hibernation, binge eating, hoarding, tell me if I missed any.

Winter was creeping closer and closer by each day, your instinctual need to sleep away the cold calling to you louder than the prior days. There was a bone-deep exhaustion that clung to you, the heaviness that cold weather brought to you was a constant and nagging feeling that urged you deeper in the nest you’d built yourself in your dark room. Your curtains drawn, lights often closed and locks installed, you’d spent the weeks preparing, hoarding soft pillows, thick blankets and clothes from people you were familiar with. 

They were surprised when you brought it up, blinking tiredly and occasionally yawning in the afternoon, stumbling between everyone’s rooms with a small plea on the tip of your tongue. You took whatever they were willing to give you: a blanket from Price and Rudolfo, a shirt from König and Gaz, a jacket from Ghost and Horangi, and a pillow from Soap and Alejandro. As long as it smelled like them, a lingering reminder that you weren’t alone in your humid room, their musk grounding and safety. You wouldn’t be alone.

Price had known you were - like most bears - prone to hibernation, taking between one to three month of your year sleeping away the cold, sinking into your mountain of fabric and sleeping off the coldest months. Your time depended on the year, the warmer it was, the less you slept, and the colder it was, the longer you slept. It might’ve been a bother in people’s eyes - humans - but it was instinctual, a primal part of your brain that still clung to your ancestors who strayed from the path of being normal bears. You couldn’t ignore the pull, the call to sleep, it wasn’t possible for a bear like you, and you were fortunate to have such accommodating teammates.

You grew hungrier, your stomach becoming an endless pit, an abyss that kept taking dish after dish, stocking up in fat and calories that you’d burn during your sleep, keeping you sustained and alive without having to wake up. You ate whatever you that was within your reach, the cold bread, the warm milk, the leftover of two days ago or Soap’s surprisingly good cooking, nothing was safe when you were a big and grumpy and hungry bear near hibernation. Ever supportive and helpful, Soap and Alejandro would jump in to cook for you, hooking Gaz and Rudolfo into being their sous-chef whenever they were free. It was the delicious scent of home cooked and warm meals that brought you to the kitchen, if it wasn’t a call for fixing up someone, it was the smell of good food. 

You were ravenous, gulping down the many, many plates the duo - occasionally quartet - placed on the table, their chests puffed up pridefully at your quick eating, you were practically breathing them in. Your constant eating helped you pack some weight, your skin stretched to accommodate your growing amount of fat that would ultimately burn over the months. And when the day came, you were low on energy, grumpy and easy to anger, your patience running paper thin, bidding your goodbyes and see you soon, wrapping your arms around them and teasing them about missing you during your lockdown. 

You’d sleep through the cold winter months and wake up to a warmer and busier time, to a welcoming and excited team that had spent the better half of winter waiting impatiently for the TF’s medic to wake up.

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

[shmalk]

Could you write the second half of what happens after price shoots immortal!reader? I love this idea, it makes me think of the Old Guard on netflix :D

you're dead.

that's the only thing any of them think, all of them shocked as they watch price holster his weapon and lean back against the post. he checks his watch, one that was practically glued to the inside of his wrist, and takes a puff of his cigar.

its almost a minute before any of them move - and gaz is first, throwing himself onto the ground beside you, pulling you into his arms and trying to pick you up off the ground.

there's too much blood, and he can't seem to lift you - were you always that heavy?

soap is slow, stuttering his feet until he reaches gaz, glancing down at the scene. your hair is mattered and tangled, covered in dust and now your own blood. your eyes are wide open and holding contact with the sky, no sneaking glances towards him or even a slight wink - you're dead.

simon is the only one who focuses on price - storming his way up to him, grabbing him by the collar and lifting him off the ground. he's confused, scared, for once, he doesn't know anything. did you betray them? did price?

despite knowing the inner turmoil inside his task force's head, price can't help but bark out a laugh, patting on ghost's hands to get the man to drop him.

soap retreats at that, joining ghost as the two of them demand answers - all but promising to take him into the interrogation room and demand he tell the truth.

gaz has to step away to vomit, your blood is warm and it's dripping - but he can feel it moving, he knows its not real and he's imagining it, hoping you'll turn to face him and scream about it being a prank. but you wont - you're dead.

only, you're not dead, and you can't help but groan as your eyes come back into focus, your arms feel like led - but you're able to lift one to cover your eyes from staring up at the sun.

you cough a few times, and push yourself up onto your elbow. you hate getting shot, it was a horrible feeling and you never liked loosing that much blood - but price had done it once (after you'd all but demanded he do it) and now he liked the shock factor.

glancing around, you take note of ghost, holding price by his shirt against a pole, and soap holding a large metal pole, threating to beat him over the head. all of three of them have turned to stare at you as you rise from the dead.

gaz is beside you, frozen in place in the middle of wiping his face free from bile.

"sorry for getting shot in the head, you guys."

a few people asked for a continuation !! sorry if this isn't the best, had a long day at work today and the weather in aus is c r az y !!

[princeguri66]

Leave a mark

MINORS DNI

Monster!John "Soap" Mactavish (with Poly Monster!141 at the end) x Male Reader

Cw: it starts off with Soap but the rest r mentioned and written but not as much as soap, marking with markers, nothing else I believe lmk

Silly thought but like imagine a monster reader who has crazy fast regeneration. Like deep cuts heal in seconds. Maybe you're a ghoul who just has crazy regen, or something like that.

Anyways,

Wouldn't a relationship between Soap, who loves leaving bites and see the aftermath due to his instincts as a werewolf and you who literally heals in seconds be interesting?

He loves getting fucked by you, but everytime he leaves a bit unsatisfied. It's not because you can't make him cum or anything, hell you can pull multiple orgasms from the guy and you have.

It's just that he can't leave satisfied knowing that he left a mark on you. He has bit you so much but the marks just won't stay. With the other members he can clearly see the marks he left on their neck and shoulders, even with Price who due to his dragon blood heals faster but the marks still stay for a day or two.

So everytime you two fuck, even if his ass if filled to the brim and his balls are empty he still whines because he can't leave his mark on you. You're a member of the 141, his pack, so it pains him that he can't put a claim on you like he has with the others.

So one day you get a bit creative.

One night in your room where he's riding on your cock, bouncing up and down while you lay your back on the bed, your hands gripping his hips and slamming him down on you as you cum. He leans down and bites as hard as he can on you as the feeling of you filling him up makes him cum. Pulling away and only being able to whine because he can't even admire his mark before it fades away.

"Aw, is puppy unsatisfied?" You tease and chuckle. And before he could insist that he was, you reached to the bedside table and picked up a red permanent marker, "why don't you mark me with this instead?" You say handing him the marker.

He huffs out a laugh at your little solution, but it's the best you got since you can't really make yourself regenerate slower. So he indulges, testing the marker on the back of your hand, the ink incredibly opaque so it stands out against your skin. Then he draws a bite mark at your neck then adds "Soap's Claim" in big letters, covering the whole left side of your neck.

He leans back, the bright red against your skin and the obvious letters, he finally sighs a sigh of relief.

It doesn't go unnoticed as well (just how he likes it)

The other members of the task force noticing Soap's eyes seem a bit brighter and his tail has been swaying peacefully the whole day. And that's where you enter, neck bare for everyone to see (it's the least you can do) Soap grins, happy to finally be able to show off his claim on you.

And now they want to have their names on your body too.

It's all color coordinated too now, Price who loves to write across your shoulder blades, with words like "Price's hoard" or just a simple "Price" with a heart next to it, it's simple but huge.

Gaz with a bright blue marker who likes to do it on your lower back (because he can also rest his head on your ass) writing something like "Gaz was here" and likes to draw wings on you. (Wing themed tramp stamp with 141 between the wings anyone?)

And Ghost with either white or black who loves to mark your chest, either a simple "ghost" or "Simon Riley" on each pec. Also likes to draw a ghost doodle on top of your heart.

And if you five fuck together, you aren't the only one who ends up having ink on you, but you'd have the most. And when you wake up to find a big arrow pointing to your dick and ass that says "Property of 141" written in multiple colors, you'd wish you could show it off.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Been thinking about this, bunny!reader with Ghost and Konig at the same time somehow, that poor woman ain't gonna survive

Oh!! She is going to die!! Being a bunny with Ghost or Konig is bad enough - these are predators with zero regard to your comfort. They might like you, even love you, but it just means they would be just barely careful enough to not kill you...they wouldn't care about silly things like making you comfortable! You're literally just a chewing toy to them, and it's the hottest and the most dangerous experience of your life. Ghost is taking you from the back, his dick is only slightly smaller than Konig's - and his shadowy tentacles are groping your asscheeks and making you spread wider, whining as he is forcing his cock in your underprepared ass. You might be extremely aroused from the slime that constantly leaks from Konig, but you still can't relax properly - can only cry and wiggle, as Simon covers you in bite marks. He only partially takes off his mask, not wanting for his competitor to see his face fully..but it's enough to kiss you, to bruise your lips and force some of his shadow tentacles inside of your mouth, pass Konig's tendrils. Konig is taking your pussy, his need to breed is to strong to resist. It's a good thing you're just a pretty dumb bunny - you're constantly in heat, constantly wigging your fluffy cotton tail and pressing your ears closer to your head, wanting for the big, strong predators to mark you. You are terrified of them, but Konig is filling your tummy with his eggs and your desire to breed is satisfied...he is leaving bruises on your plump hips and forces his tentacles even deeper, making sure that not an inch of your body is not covered in his fluids. He growls in your ear and you tremble - with them, it's only a matter of time when they snap, when they'd decide that you need to be punished properly. They would take care of you after, cleaning your poor, abused holes and laughing as they twitch around nothing, your hips buckle into their fingers as they clean you up. Poor, dumb bunny - they are shackling you to the nest, making sure you wouldn't escape even when they are filling you with their combined tentacles, never leaving your holes alone for long enough...

[cod-dump]

I’m Not Simon Riley I’m Ghost - Chapter 15

SoapGhost

———

Soap POV

—

The first thing he noticed was how heavy his limbs felt. It was like a weighted blanket was on him, pinning him where he laid. Next, the dim light overhead. It was dim but it still felt so bright as he cracked his eyes open. The quiet in air was loud, too, suffocating him as his eyes adjusted to the light. He was in medical, in a bed with crisp sheets and crisp, clean smelling air.

Then he noticed someone sitting in the corner of the room.

Even if Soap wanted to flinch, jerk his body in surprise, he couldn’t. But the person still noticed his surprise, which should’ve been shocking, unnerving. But it was Ghost, so it made sense that he noticed. Of course he did. He was originally leaned back in the chair, eyes closed. He looked like he was asleep but his eyes opened quickly as Soap stirred and he was sitting up straight. Soap felt his breath hitched. Ghost wasn’t wearing his mask… he always wears his mask, where was his mask?

Soap found it almost as soon as the thought crossed his mind. It was resting on the arm of the chair Ghost sat in with Ghost’s hand on top of it. Within reach, if he felt the need to wear it at any point.

Seeing his face again was a shock. The ‘scars’ on his face which Soap knew were much more, the paleness to his flesh, the very faint marks that he knew were actual scars… his eyes, black like oil but Soap wasn’t afraid of them this time. The veins surrounding his eyes were black, too, leading throughout his body. A glimpse of what Ghost was, that he was just a beast wearing a man’s skin as a costume.

”Was starting to think you never would wake, that Nikolai and Commander Karim lied that you would.”

Soap huffs, not having the strength to say anything. Ghost noticed and left his chair to go to Soap’s side. He kneeled on the floor, more near Soap’s midriff rather than near his head. It was strange seeing his face, seeing him emote with something more than his eyes and voice. He looked… relieved.

”You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?”

Soap huffs again, this time trying to laugh but he didn’t get one out. God, he felt drained. Ghost slumped onto the floor and leaned his back against the bed. It looked like he was also drained, Soap was expecting a lecture, some yelling. It almost looked like Ghost didn’t have it in him to do that even though Soap deserved it and a whole lot more.

”Price is pissed… kind of. He’s glad you’re alive,” Ghost spoke, leaning his head onto the mattress as he does.

Soap focused on Ghost’s hair. It looked longer than what he remembered it to be… and soft.

”Farah said the rest of the spell would wear off by dinner time. Until then you’ll feel pretty worn out.”

The last word left Ghost’s lips and Soap couldn’t help it. Maybe if he was someone else he would’ve reacted differently. Actually, no ‘maybe’ to it, he definitely would’ve snapped if anyone else dared to touch him.

Ghost had tensed when Soap’s hand rested on his head, fingers lightly tugging at his hair. In Soap’s defense, he wasn’t himself at the moment. Though that wasn’t much of a excuse considering he probably would’ve done this without the after affects of a spell. Ghost didn’t pull away, just sat there like he was frozen. His hair was as soft as it looked.

”Soft,” was the only word that managed to leave Soap’s lips. It was heavily slurred without the hard sound if the ‘T’ at the end.

Ghost pulled away only after Soap’s hand slipped away from his head and back onto the bed. He stood rather quickly and cleared his throat, refusing to face Soap as he stepped back to the chair he was originally sitting in to retrieve his mask. Soap felt disappointed when he slid it back onto his head.

”I’ll go get Price,” he was then out the door, almost like he was retreating.

Ghost doesn’t retreat, Soap mused to himself, closing his eyes as he let himself drift off.

The door would open but Soap wouldn’t hear anyone enter, so he opened his eyes to investigate. His heart almost bursted out of his chest when he was face to face with Runt leaning over him. Black eyes staring, Graves’ face much more healed from the burns than they were the last time Soap saw him. Soap thought his heart would explode with how fast it was beating. Runt was something he had to get used to still. Especially since he has the face of someone Soap killed, now twisted in a practical demonic manner.

“You’re human… supposed to be, anyways,” Runt muttered, mostly to himself. He looked over Soap with those cold eyes, fear spiking when they locked with his once more, “I gotta know. What did you do to him?”

The door opened and Runt pulled away from leaning over Soap.

”Fuck- Don’t run off like that!”

Gaz?

Runt stepped aside as Soap saw Gaz walking in. Relief flooded Soap. He wanted to sit up, but he wasn’t able to do anything other than lay there. His hands gripped the sheets of the bed as tight as he could manage, and he had a feeling that it wasn’t much. Gaz quickly walked over and made a shooing motion at Runt.

”Go wait in the hall!”

Runt tilts his head, “Am I not allowed to say ‘hello’?”

”No! Go wait for Ghost to come back!”

Runt grins a bit too widely, Soap being able to see sharp teeth further back in his throat. He had gotten a good look from Ghost at what the inside of their mouths looked like. It wasn’t a pretty sight.

Runt left the room, humming as he did. The moment the door closed Gaz sighed out, “Creepy fucker…”

”I heard that~,” Runt called from the other side of the door in a sing-song voice, Gaz’s eyes widening in response.

”Fuck off!”

Runt laughs before becoming quiet, Gaz shuddering before he sits on the edge of the bed, groaning, “Price is having me watch him… fucking been stuck with him since you three came back from France.”

Soap wanted to respond but he couldn’t get past making a dumb sounding noise. Gaz heard it and patted his leg, Soap disturbed by how he could barely feel his touch. Was he going to be fucked up? Was that spell going to have lasting affects on him?

”Hey, easy. Look, I’ll talk to you later, alright? I know your head feels weird as shit right now… that’s what Farah told me, at least. Just get some rest and I’ll tell you how much of a dumbass you are later… Okay, maybe I won’t. Price might rip you apart enough for all of us.”

Soap wanted Gaz to stay, didn’t want him to leave. He wanted him to tell him everything that’s been going on, how long he’s been out, why he’s stuck with watching Runt and how that’s been going on. He wanted to hear so much from him, but he couldn’t say a word. The closest thing to English had been with Ghost, and even that probably was barely coherent. Soap makes a sound, something akin to a whine, and Gaz looks at him with concern.

”Fuck, you okay, Suds?”

No, please stay.

Something about being alone seemed too much. Everything was setting in, Runt’s frightful appearance seemingly waking him up enough for him to realize what was happening. He was fucking scared and he didn’t want to be alone.

”I’ll stay here until Price gets here.”

Soap tried nodding but was unsure if it was successful. Gaz lookd like he squeezed his leg, but Soap still couldn’t feel it. This all felt too much, he regretted running off the way he did. Soap closes his eyes, hoping that when he wakes up next everything will be back to normal… whatever that was.

[bluegiragi]

group huddle!

early access + nsfw on patreon monster!AU masterpost

[lemonwrap]

Imagine: deaf Soap and siren Ghost. Soap is enraptured by Ghost, but it has nothing to do with the siren’s song.

[porcelainpot]

It takes a long time before you leave your den again, the small cave proving to be a cage, as Soap so graciously called it, for not only them but you too, even if sometimes it can be considered your little heaven too.

It's not that you don't want to leave, it has been at least three hours since Soap had gotten himself too close for comfort, riling you up enough that you almost forgot to keep distance for the both of you.

No, it's not that.

It's that you're fucking terrified and you don't want to admit it.

You have watched and analyzed them all enough to understand that he has a weird sense of flirting and is more feral than what he looks, if his stunt a few hours ago wasn't proof of that, then the way he would usually do the same with other mer, prey mer, or fishes is proof of how he gets off on doing it.

You look at yourself, your fins, your tail, beautiful oranges and whites decorating the venomous spines that serve as hunting and protective tools. Or that should be their purpose, if it wasn't for the lack of poison they had.

They do work for hunting and to protect yourself, but the thing is that they're not lethal at all, if only, the supposed venom is more of anesthetic.

Instead of causing pain, it makes the prey, and predators, lose feeling on their limbs, starting from where the location of the sting and then it spreads, just like the venom should work. You know this, which is why you never correct them about how poisonous you are, because you aren't. You just work as a type of numbing tool.

Everyone would have a field, especially Soap, so it's not like you'll ever tell them and keep your distance away. In the end it's more for your protection than theirs.

Your belly rumbles and you scrunch up your nose, you're hungry, not having really thought of eating since hours ago because you were enjoying Ghost's company and also the fact you were not hungry at all.

But now here you are, and thanks to someone called fucking Soap, you can't find it in yourself to go out and hunt, because what if he's out there? What if he tries to do the same again?

Surely not, Ghost already made him go back to their reef to go bother Gaz or Price, maybe even take a nap but that doesn't deter you.

Your fins and spikes have been flared all these hours and it's starting to hurt a bit with how tense your muscles are. It makes you want to tear out something, to sink your teeth on his shoulder, to grab his face and stab your spikes against his skin until they pierce it to watch him go limp and sink on the sand, unable to move.

You shake your head, clawing at the sand to get rid of those thoughts. He would probably like it, might even fantasize about it if you think enough, he looks like he would. More so at the glee to show he was right, that you're not dangerous as he thought and that's exactly why.

A shiver goes down your spine at his words, at the fact he thought he could break your spines, it has panic raising up your throat before you shake your head and calm down. No, no he wouldn't.

At least you try to think that. (Oh, but he would, how else would you end up with them? That way you wouldn't be able to protect yourself, but they could keep you safe and to themselves.)

Your nerves are too fried to calm down, today you probably won't go out hunting until you've calmed down, the thought of finding Ghost at night causes an uncomfortable feeling in your chest.

He stopped Soap, that's fine, good even, at least one of the two has a sense of safety even if he doesn't regard you as a predator like him (although the cause of it barely counts as a threat). Not like you need his approval, you're not friends, far from it, just acquaintances at best. That only makes your decision of hunting at night more difficult.

You sigh, curling up onto yourself. You can skip a day or two of not hunting, it's fine. You can sleep most of it away.

-

You wake up again by the sound of something swimming around your small reef, you barely catch it, with sleep clouding your mind still after sleeping all day. You swim closer to the small gaps of your small den, just to take a peek.

It's Ghost, because of course he is. The mer likes to hunt at night, but it's weird that he's outside your small cave at this hour, by now he should be far away looking for food.

"Wha?"

"Come outside." He commands, it makes you frown, why would you do that? It's late and you're tired.

"No. I'm sleeping." You mumble, unconsciously leaning a bit closer to look at him better through the small space.

Your spikes are all relaxed, finally, muscles sore from your body being alert for so long. You're in no position to speak properly, sleep heavy and worsened by the lack of food, trying to make it up for the lack of energy.

Ghost hums, something low and quiet it almost makes you think it was your mind playing tricks on you if you weren't looking at him through half lidded eyes.

"Come on. I got you something, pretty fish." His voice is low and thick, honeyed, as sweet as someone with a gruff and heavy voice could do, to make you come out.

The pet name has you a bit hooked, and the sight of the actual fish on his hand after he presents it has you fully out of your home. You swim towards him, towards the food actually, and reach for it.

You're too tired to even eat it, but you still inspect it, you have to check it's worth and duplicate it tomorrow so you two are even, even in your half-asleep state your mind knows what to do for someone who even gifts you something. You don't like owning anything to anyone.

Ghost looks at you closely, as close as he dares to be given your current situation.

You're half asleep, any word or action he does could either make you react badly and stab him with those beautiful spines you got or have you still be pliant in his presence.

You're an interesting little thing, gorgeous in looks and deadly in touch, he can understand Soap's infatuation with you but he knows how to handle mers like you, he might look disinterested but he already knows how to handle you well.

Ghost takes his opportunity to swim closer, amused when he noticed you curl up around the fish, not to eat it but because you fell asleep holding the food he got you, curled up around it.

"Pretty thing, nothing more than brash words huh?" He murmurs as he very softly cups his hand under you, eyes sharp and focused on your fins and tail, looking for a telltale of flaring spines or the flick of your ear fins.

You're quite small and pliant, colorful even in the darkness of their reef. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes. You're lucky it's me and not Soap, the twat would be pricked as soon as he got you at hands reach."

Of course, you barely make a sound at that, scrunching up your nose before relaxing again and he takes the opportunity to run his thumb on your back, brushing his fingers through your fins and skin, careful to not touch your spines.

Ghost wonders if you're even aware of what he's doing, of how powerless you are right now, but he doesn't entertain the thought much when you star to stir again.

He lets you go as soon as your tail swishes, letting you blink and rub your eyes, looking around before squinting at him, saying a quick 'thanks' before swimming to your small den.

That's dangerous, don't you know you should be attentive at all times? Not every mer is as nice as he is right now.

With one last peek, he swims away to continue with his night routine, what he needed to do is done and he won't do more, you aren't his responsibility if you're not Price's responsibility.

Yet, anyways.

For now, your naps and quiet time together are enough for him, even if he has to look out for Soap.

[sweetiecutie]

Hi!

I fell in love with ur underbedmonster!simon au!

And I am sure everybody else fell in love with it.

Can we get some more stories with monster simon? If it's no problem, of course :)))

Love your work btw <33

A/n: sure you can, I think that this trope is my new obsession🫣☺️

Warnings: smut, mdni, possessiveness, monsterfucking, tentacle fucking

Part 1 || Part 3 || Part 4

Underbed monster! Simon who was slightly startled by such sudden change in your aura - once sugary sweet and syrupy turned into bitter and pungent, causing creature to sputter and hiss begrudgingly at the taste, his ears (or whatever that was that he had) straining to hear any words coming from you that could explain this drastic shift in your emotions.

Underbed monster! Simon who listened attentively as you spoke on the phone with your best friend, choking on your own tears and sobs as you told them how you broke up with your now ex boyfriend, about the ugly fight you had, how he called you numerous names, shattering your heart in million pieces just with his cruel words.

Underbed monster! Simon who felt rage simmering somewhere deep within him. How dare that pathetic scumbag treat you like that!? Yes, Ghost did torture you with horrible nightmares quite a few dozens times, but you were his human, his to scare, his to taunt, his to fuck, no one else’s. He felt possessive and angry, he wanted to soothe your poor little heart, to make all the pain go away so you could feed him more and more of that honey-like energy that your pleasure exuded.

Underbed monster! Simon who finally decided to take matters into his own hands after keeping a close eye on you when your state didn’t seem to get any better. Ghost sneaked out some of the sweets from kitchen to your bedroom so you had something to munch on, making you confused as to how those candies seemed to magically appear on your bedside. Simon tried keeping the house tidy and clean for you in hopes that it’ll make you get better soon, he even did your laundry once, causing you to freak out at the sight of your clothes, freshly washed and still damp, hanging off the rope to dry out.

Underbed monster! Simon couldn’t be more happier, watching your attention finally shift from your shithead ex to him. Simon was purposefully lurking right in the corner of your vision, making his presence in the house way more obvious. He watched with fierce amusement as you grabbed the sharpest knife from the kitchen, inspecting every nook and cranny of the house, not finding any signs of intrusion or anything that could’ve given a clue about another person’s presence, scrunching up your pretty eyebrows in confusion.

Underbed monster! Simon who fully revealed himself for the first time in your dream, standing in his full glory in front of small scared you, your breathing quickening in your sleep as you inspected his tall dark form, two red eyes glaring down at you from above. You felt paralysed as you watched this creature raise its smokey limb that slightly resembled human arm, cold tentacle fingers brushing your cheek, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear affectionately. And all of the sudden all fear and anxiety vanished, leaving place for curiosity and amazement as you studied monster’s features closer, not feeling threatened nor endangered by him. Slowly its mouth opened - even blacker that the rest of him, his voice clear and lucid, ringing right inside of your head “Wake up”

Your eyes snapped open - you were laying in your bed still, crumpled sheets dug into your back unpleasantly but you couldn’t care less as you stared straight into those crimson orbs, cold tentacles slithering up and down your sides, wrapping tighter around your limbs, immobilising you completely. Underbed monster! Simon just purred audibly at your obedience and lack of resistance, branching a few more extremities to slip under the hem of your pyjama top and wrap around your nipples, tugging and tweaking on them softly.

Underbed monster! Simon who growled satisfactorily at the small wet patch that started forming on your panties, slowly rubbing your sweet pussy while applying more and more pressure to his touch, watching you writhe and whine underneath him, begging for more.

Underbed monster! Simon who purred as he slipped a thick tentacle past the hem of your panties, stuffing your fluttering cunny so full of himself, finally that rich taste of your pleasure simmered right through him, filling his ghastly body with strength and energy he lacked all this time you were depressed. Newfound strength just nagged him into fucking you faster and harder, twisting out your nipples and rubbing your clit rapidly, all while forcing his thick tentacles in and out of your leaking cunt, making you scream and tremble in his inescapable grasp as fourth orgasm rippled through your weakened body, pure pleasure surging through your veins, hogging up your mind and making you incapable of thinking.

Underbed monster! Simon who only let you go when first sun rays peaked in through bedroom’s window, leaving you a fucked-out yet blissful mess, pinching you on your cheek affectionately before slipping under your mattress, curling up like a huge lazy cat and falling asleep, full of your delicious pleasure.

And even hours later as you peeked under your bed you could see a huge black spot there, still and unmoving; and if you listened closely enough you could hear your underbed monster purr softly in its sleep, happy and properly nourished.

That’s quite a pet that you have now, eh?

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated, don’t be shy to give writers some love! Requests are open, so send me some stuff<3