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Warning: I dabble in dark content. I reblog/create posts that contain potentially upsetting content such as dub-con, noncon, piss kink, fauxcest, graphic violence, etc. these will be tagged, but peruse at your own risk.
Do not use my work in any AI model.
Limit list (non exhaustive list of weird things I will/will not write about)
Personally love the concept of price with an energetic baby.
Imagine price, this cathedral of military discipline at it's finest, a man known for how dangerous he is, carrying around a squirming squealing baby.
Price has perfected the swaddle after multiple escape attempts from baby who wants nothing more than to grab anything it can wrap its tiny fingers around.
Of course, the guys love watching mini price while price is working. Baby is always kicking his feet, or waving his hands, or babbling. He has so much energy, and is easily entertained by the guys sitting there and letting baby play with their hands.
Once, kyle watched as baby did a little wiggle in his carrier at the exact same time price rolled from heel to two while talking to soap. Some might miss it, but baby and price are undeniably related.
I'm so obsessed with all the baby posting <3 I hope you know how much we appreciate you and your writing, just scrolling through your blog makes a bad day good again
Omg tyyy <33 here's some bebe drawings hehe
Ghost has giant babies, eight pounds and up from this man. He's setting records at every hospital, no competition.
Gaz has...shockingly small babies. His kids are short up until puberty when they hit an insane growth spurt.
Soap has twins. The mactavish household is not beating the giant family allegations...
Price has an extremely friendly and energetic baby. Always always moving..
The way you write Nik just makes me want to give my brain to him and be like "yea I'm ready to be kitten. Done thinking forever" he can just think for me and I'll just be his little meow meow.
The crazy thing is that Nik is such a terrible, indulgent man. He is literally never going to push you to be ambitious or independent or responsible. He will always 100% be on the side of hedonism, giving in, laziness, and general bacchanalia. You’re thinking of ordering dessert? He’s already asked for the menu and put in the order for coffee. You’re thinking of putting something off for tomorrow? Probably for the best. It isn’t going anywhere. You’re thinking of quitting your job? Do it. You have so much to offer and being beholden to some boss is so stagnating. He can take care of the bills. You’re thinking of staying in tomorrow? He’ll make breakfast in bed. You want to sleep in because it’s cozy? He’ll keep the blackout curtains drawn and the house silent. He’s never ever stubborn when you’re in a fight— he’s always ready to give in, apologize, and ravish you to make up for it.
When it comes to keeping you comfortable and relaxed? Literally nothing can stop him.
PLSSS share your thoughts on dispatch (especially waterboy if you have any… 🤲🏽🤲🏽)
I have something to confess to you all. I enjoy going to bed moistened. I like it when my hair is wet and so is the pillow and things are damp in general. I also like it when the atmosphere outside is all moist and soupy. I also love the shower and the pool and the beach.
So I love to imagine Waterboy with someone like that! Maybe even a fish or amphibian hybrid. Someone who not only doesn’t mind, but in fact revels in his sloshyness. His partner who confusingly refers to him as “refreshing”. Someone happy to sleep on the rubber sheets. Someone who loves that his kisses are kinda too wet.
Thinking about older alpha!price and beta!reader...but make it dubcon bitching...
Imagine price being very touchy with you, more than with his other teammates, but not thinking much of it. He likes to scent you when he wakes up in the morning, still groggy and rough as he scrubs his wrist into your neck. Quick, efficient, but reeking of affection.
You love it, of course you do. You'd never say it out loud, but he's kind of like a father figure to you. Having prices scent on you feels like a warm hug.
He likes to manhandle you too, though that's how it is with most of the team. Dragging you around by your plate carrier, or guiding you with a palm at the base of your neck. You enjoy it too much to grumbles and fight like soap does, purring happily and completely missing the way price watches you intensely.
When he starts noticing the signs, price makes sure to get you and him alone in a safehouse, pulling some strings with nikolai.
"You alright, pup?" He'll ask as you pace the room for the third hour in a row, restless for reasons you can't begin to understand.
Of course, price knows exactly what's wrong. All those subtle touches, all those tiny acts of dominance over you. Young pups don't realize bitching has little to do with a knot if you know what you're doing, and price knows.
"Mmh, you smell like an omega, sergeant." He'll grunt, coralling you into his den as your scent spikes with anxiety and heat "you ever had a heat before?"
It doesn't take much coaxing to get you to accept him, pumped with hormones and in unfamiliar space. Price makes sure to work you open for his knot, making you whine and beg on his fingers before he even takes off his pants.
"Fuck– you feel so good, love." He huffs against your neck, cock splitting you open "perfect omega, made just for me. You didn't even realize, huh?"
"I knew the second I saw you. You were begging to get bitched," price fills you with cum again and again. Knotting you until all you can do is purr and present your neck for your alpha. He designed you to be his omega, after all.
He can't wait to show you off to the rest of the team, determined to bring home a freshly pupped omega.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about Demon!Nikolai.
The age old trope of being part of a village that owes its peace and prosperity to a deal made with the demons of the mountain hundreds of years ago, every decade or two one of them will come down and pluck up a little spouse to take home with them. Some will stay in the village for years to scout and gather information before making their choice. Others throw the first pretty thing they see over their shoulder and whistle their way back to the mountain.
Nikolai has visited many times, always disguised, to watch and judge the lambs of the village. And you’re perfect. A red leather cord laced around your neck in a bow, showing that you’re ripe for the taking. Layered, practical cotton dress that professes your innocence. You are not favored by your peers— instead spending much of your time alone with the livestock. Your Sundays are spent sitting under a tree, scribbling in a little book, a chicken or a goat kid snoozing away with its head rested on your thigh.
It’s a surprise to everyone, most of all you, when Nikolai appears before the village, towering, and selects you for his bride. You’re knock kneed and shaking as he guides you away with a hand at the nape of your neck, clawed fingers fiddling with the little leather cord— switched out for black in the wake of your engagement.
He has to add a bell to you, you live so quietly in his temple on the mountain, a little ribbon in your ankle with the tinkling piece of pewter on display. He goes around the place, coming to the courtyard and often hearing the little jingling grow further as you slip away. He enjoys the coyness of the chase, but he worries you may actually fear him.
But when he asks your village elder about you, she excitedly opens a chest— she has many trinkets and gifts from her community, alongside them are the drawings of the village children. She cards through the parchment until she finds what she wants— explaining that at a young age, all of the children are taught about the demons of the mountain, and the traditional marriage between them and the villagers. She proudly produces your drawing from back in your school days, a crude little figure in a dress representing you holding hands with a two-horned beast with tusks, surrounded by hearts, flowers, and scribbly animals.
Interesting.
Inspired by @rawme-price ‘s recent baby posting
I think it would be so funny if, after so many years of assuring himself that he would make a terrible father, that he would be the more neurotic parent between the two of you. Like you’ve been straight up wiping your hands on the baby sometimes. Meanwhile for when Simon comes home you’re like
“Do you wanna tell me why I got a text from Johnny telling me to ‘teach my heartless, black-souled husband some humanity’. With the crying emoji.”
“He wanted t’hold Joey, and I said no.”
“Not that you’re not allowed to say no, but… why? Johnny’s clean… ish. And coordinated. I don’t think he’d drop a baby.”
“You’ve never had to share a loo with the man, sweetheart.”
“Does he not wash his hands or something?”
“Oh, sure he does. For all of 10 bleedin’ seconds, max. Not lettin’ him handle my precious bundle of joy.”
“Don’t you carry like a gallon of hand sanitizer, though?”
“Tha’s for emergencies only, luv.”
continuation of this fuck or die blurb with Price
warnings: mutual graphic noncon (bad guys made them do it)
Okay imagine working on base as the person who strascibes all of the mission recordings, right?
Nothing confidential, of course, that all gets cut and sent to someone else. You mostly handle chatter and boring stuff. Tucked away in a repurposed storage closet with your government-issued laptop and too many energy drinks.
It's not a bad deal, perse, but it is...awkward listening to your superiors chat five hours into a sniping post. You've learned a lot about your superiors...not that you mind, what with your silly crush on them.
"Hey, ghost, you meet anyone yet?" You listen to the audio, crackling through your personal headphones because you refuse to listen to this outloud.
"Nah, got my eye on a cute bird, though." Ghost huffs, and that catches your attention. You know what everyone else likes, but ghost is a mystery.
"Oh? Do tell."
"B-13. I don't know if you've met 'em." Oh. Oh god. Holy shit. You're in room b-13. You nearly spill your drink in your scramble to turn up the volume, ghosts low husk clearer now
"The weirdo who transcribes audios?" Gaz snorts, and you frown. You know you're kind of a nobody working in a dark room, but still.
"Yep. That one." Ghost confirms, voice low and pleased. It makes your face heat, knowing he sounds like that talking about you "cute as hell, with a fierce side. Did you hear about 'em getting kicked from their last base for chewing out a lieutenant?"
That lieutenant had it coming, giving you shit audio to work with. You think, then pause wait. Cute??
"Interestin', that's for sure." Ghost finally huffs, grass shifting in the back "might be worth my time."
"Wow, ghost. Here i thought you'd die alone." Kyle's jokes, moving onto the next subject, but you're still buffering.
Might be worth his time. Ghost, the guy you've not so subtly been obsessed with, might actually like you. You...you don't know what to think.
The rest of your work is done with a smile, a small giddy one accompanied by a light feeling in your chest. Ghost could like you.
Nikolai who retires from the military
Nikolai who decides he wants to drive a school bus
Nikolai who scopes out all the single mom's on his route.
Nikolai who takes your sweet twin girls to school every morning with the intention of being their new step dad by this time next year.
You who barely got the girl's out the door, you're barefooted, a house coat on that barely covers how hard your nipples are from the crisp morning air. Your gown clinging to your legs as you apologize perfusely pushing your kids onto the bus.
"No worries, zayka." He'll purr as he smiles at you. "No worries at all."
Simon who still has Mr. Kitty in a box under his bed, safe and hidden.
He cant leave base without the fear of someone finding the little thing and tossing it, thinking it trash from the way one button eye is missing and its fur is all wrinkled.
Like his dad once did when he found the ratty thing hidden under little Simons pillow
He had spent hours crying silently, searching for it in every nook and cranny
Only to find it in the bile filled trash.
His ma in one of her kind moments, helps him wash it and dry it before his father can find out the thing was still in the house.
After that night one dark button eye is missing forever.
Ghost who cant bring Mr. Kitty with him on missions. Too terrified of bringing the last pieces of Simon onto a battlefield and loosing him there.
Ghost who cant bring himself to touch Mr. Kitty in fear of tainting the wee thing with the blood staining his hands.
Ghost who also cant sleep without Mr. Kitty tucked securely against his chest, in the hope that keeping Mr. Kitty close will keep Simon close, will keep his Ma and Tommy and all their soft moments together tethered to the tainted wretched thing that is Ghost.
i have shared quite a few headcanons for price, but i think one of my favorites was in meet your match—him scheduling and canceling multiple vasectomy appointments over the years. because even if he believes he’d be better off not reproducing, he still loves knowing he could knock someone up at any time.
@quarterlifekitty I never forgot the ask u sent....
Thinking about deer hybrid!reader who, due to malnutrition and other factors growing up, still looks more like a fawn than an adult deer...
You're extremely embarrassed about it, the soft white spots along your back and in your hair, the way your instincts still seem to linger as a fawn sometimes.
You try your best to hide it, brown hair dye and long sleeves tend to work, most people assume you're just a small doe.
It gets...harder to hide when you start working with the 141. Specifically captain price, who so happens to be a buck. You know he's suspicious of you, of your scent that isn't quite fawn but it's grown either. Still, he politely doesn't press because price has met all number of hybrids in his line of work.
It's not until ghost intentionally startles him while you're both walking down the hall. Price let's out an instinctively huff and you drop to the floor.
Knees buckled, head down, purely fawn instinct telling you to get down and hide because your herd said to. You're dead silent, heart stuttering, and that's when price realizes what's been so off about you. Why he feels to drawn to hover by you.
He doesn't shame you, or tell you you're weird. He just looks down at this weird fawn and thinks about how your instincts must hate not having a herd.
Which is how you end up with a little section of prices office for yourself, a table for your work and a soft bed because you still tire easily like a fawn. It'd shocking how much better you feel just being around him.
You may be odd, socially outcasted by most deer, but price is happy to have you in his herd.
tws: public (?) nudity, boat sex (is that a think) hints of price’s breeding kink, unprotected sex, bodily fluids, very much “he fell first and harder” vibes, dacryphilia, +18/mdni!
more on vacation!price, who can’t help how he’s grinding his pulsing, swimming-trunk-covered bulge into your ass while the two of your enjoy the pretty waters of the early evening. the man's already unstrapped your top, replacing the fabric with the warm cupping of his hands and pinching fingers. he's mumbling something against your neck in between every other kiss, accent thicker than usual. tipsy off you and the drinks from dinner.
the man cock's feels as if it's going to burst through his shorts when your hand wraps along the back of his neck, tugging at him with a needy grip. he receives the message instantly, unlatching his mouth to slot his mouth onto yours. he kisses you until your lungs start to burn and then a moment longer before rutting his thick against you a grunting at the heating twitches at his core.
