✨Kraken✨

It's light outside, the sunlight peaks in at the edges of the blackout blinds— the ones that are too narrow but you never found the energy to return. You groan, stretching out as much as you can, but the thought of moving from your bed is like a weight in your chest.

You should get up.

You should shower.

You should eat something.

The covers pull up over your head, and once again, you curl back up to try and sleep away the ache of your body.

Peace doesn't last long, knocking from the front door has you rousing once again. It's darker outside, dusk settling in. You recognise the voices that call out, your teammates asking if you're alright, to just make a noise so they know you're alive. Maybe it's because you want them to come in, or maybe it's because you truly don't have the energy anymore, but your voice stays silent despite their increasing voices.

The door doesn't burst open, Simon's fingers far too skilled at picking your lock after all these years. Their steps are silent, Kyle always had a thing about not wearing his boots in your place, but you can hear them open your door.

"Love, are you—fuckin' hell— you in there?"

Simon's voice is pitched up with worry, something you've only heard from him in rare moments, and that's what has you peaking out from under your blanket. Kyle and Simon stand at the threshold of your messy room, both of them looking at you with concern and care, looking more dishevelled then you've ever seen them off the field.

"Hey, baby. We're gonna come in, okay?"

You don't bother with an answer, turning over to face the wall so you don't have to see their disgust. It's stupid to think they would judge you for the state of your house and your body— especially considering you've helped Simon change his diaper and you keep a nightlight on for Kyle when he sleeps over— but you can't help feeling guilty.

The two of them move into your room, clearing enough space on your bed to lie down with you, crawling under the covers. Ghost presses against your back, arms wrapping around your stomach and letting the warmth of his body seep into you while he nuzzles your neck. Gaz faces you, his chin on your head, nose pressed into your hair despite the fact that you haven't showered in well over two weeks. Pressed between them, you feel the tears pool in your eyes and a sob catch in your throat. For the first time since Johnny's funeral, you cry, Simon's voice muffled into the skin of your neck.

Tags: all is very soft just hinted at: forcemasc, puppy play, kidnapping

Simon meets you wherever, maybe you work together, you are real sweet but def not ok, everyone kinda notices even if you think they don't, and both performance is good and you are a little bit of an asshole (projecting your hurt onto others and all that) it's not like you berate or scream at people, it's just clear that you think everybody around you is a moron and you are clearly the smartest in every room.

Simon kinda likes the mean snooty streak you got going. He likes to hear you complain about everyone and everything. Your friendship starts this way. You complain, he listens.

Slowly, you open up to him, confess to him that you are trans man and slowly he pieces together that apathy and contemt are the only things keeping you together, it's too painful to yearn for something you can't have so the next logical step is to despise it; you don't despise masculinity per se, what you do despise are all your male coworkes, with their burly male bodies and their male friendships, you just decided that they all are stupid morons the alternative it's too painful.

And the worst part is that even despising them doesn't make you love yourself; you hate the way you look, the way you talk, the way you dress and walk, the shape of your hands and your feet, and all of this makes Simon heart break. He loves you so much, venomous prickly porcupine but he knows that you also can't accept love from another, that, to you, in your twisted brain would mean that they love the hated body you inhabit or that they love the notion f feminine you, even if that might not be true, it happened so may times that it's all you sense whan someone likes you. Even if you are crushing on said person still you'd never accept any kind of romantic confession.

A plan hatches in Simon's brain: if you won't take action to love yourself, he will! He will make so you will come to love your life! He will teach you how to be a man, he'll shape you into one, so when you'll look in the mirror you will like what you see and be reminded of all your hard work to get there.

He takes his time, gets his house ready: he buys gym equipment that he puts in the garage, he gets the testosterone and the needles and the disinfectant, he buys just a little so see if there's any reaction, he studied what you are gonna need.

He emtpies out the basement, paints it, buys a new bed, pillows and sheets, repurpuses an old bed frame, takes one of his nightstands, he uses only one, he salvages a big drawer from somewhere and chooses a sof fuzzy rug from a local shop. This will do for now, you will be able to decorate your own living quarters to your likes as soon as you'll be afforded freedom, and that depends solely on you.

He's not illuded that this will be easy on you, especially in the beginning, and knowing you, you'll be all nasty and rebellious for a while, then you will go passive and pleasing while plotting, that will be enough to make you realise you actually like it there.

At some point he'll have to you let escape, you will know that there are consequences for that, but you will still escape nonetheless, even if you like it, but you will also come back, he's sure of it. Despite all your stupid choices and self sabotaging streaks, you are quite smart you'll want to go back, to be where for the first time in years you have been happy, it could take an afternoon, a week at worse, or maybe he will need to come and get you after a while, to show you he still wants you despite your fuck up, but this time you will come willingly, no need for brute force or chloroform.

For now he goes back to making you a meal plan, this is a temporary thing, he'll have to change it as you grow; while for the exercise regiment he'll have to assess your skills before making one, you are kind of out of shape having avoided any kind of gendered activity for some years now, but have overall good stamina, if he can just convince quickly that petty resistance just to spite him is futile, things might move along swiftly.

The boys know what's happening, they know what he's planning to do, he enlisted them to help after all, he'll need to socialise you like a man, beeing all antisocial like you are now won't do.

They all mostly agree with your approach, they do see the feral dog that you are, and left to your own devices you'll never be happy, you do need a trainer, an owner. They also agree that Simon is kind of lonely and does need a mutt all of his own.

Soap was also like that before Price took him in and thought him how to be a man, a good boy. Maybe when you are done with your training, you will be able to play with him. Both soap an Simon are excited about that.

HOLY SCHMAWOW????!!!!!!!!!! THIS IS SO GOOD AND MY DICK GOT SO HARD OMG

Okay bit more graphic on my end cause this is the dream:

Tw: noncon, force masc, pup play

God. Reader who’s locked down in Ghost’s basement on that first night as the world’s angriest woman. You spit and seethe and snarl at everything in your wake, you bite and punch and hit as hard as you can.

He doesn’t touch you yet. Doesn’t try to fuck you, doesn’t even jerk off in your vicinity. He’s a strict new pet owner, wants you to understand your place now- he doesn’t want distractions.

Reader a month into your- rehabilitation, a man now. Your tits are gone- you woke up one day with Simon gently changing your bandages, drainage tubes embedded in your skin as you sob and wail about the pain. You hated it at first, thought he stole something from you. Testosterone is pumping through your body now, your first dose- you can’t stop humping anything and everything that comes into contact with your new bottom growth.

Simon doesn’t touch you, even when he catches you plunging your fingers in your cunt. Even when you growl and sob at him that it’s his fault, that he should at least fix this and get you a dildo or a vibrator- he doesn’t.

Simon just watches, with an absolute reverence as you cum around your soaked fingers at the sight of him.

Six months in, he starts you in the gym- a strict regiment in a little at home place he converted his garage into just for you. Simon is rough, he insists you keep going till failure- he gropes his bulge openly while he watches you sweat and grunt. It’s fucking addicting, finally getting some kind of reaction from him after all this time- it’s weird that it’s only when you’re working out, newly hairy body covered in sweat and muscles bulging.

A year in, when your little cock is big enough and your scars have healed completely- is the first time he jerks off to you. You’d seen his dick so many times in the shower when he bathed you, heavy and hanging even when soft and completely out of the question-

Not like now. Now, his large hand dragged the foreskin back and forth- eyes wide, staring down at the sight of you trembling and stretching open your ass for him. Letting it gape just slightly, grumbling about how real man are supposed to take it up the ass, right? If he wants you to be a real man, he has to at least fuck your ass, doesn’t he?

Simon still doesn’t hardly touch you, just taps the tip of his cock against your aching hole and cumming inside it. Letting it drip down your achy, swollen cunt. Knowing you couldn’t fucking take it anymore, sobbing and begging against the pillow for him to just please fuck you.

A year and one month in, Simon fucks you. You beg to suck his cock for three weeks after he jerks off in front of you, breaking down and shoving the fat rod down your throat till you came just from the sensation alone. Your own hips grinding, desperately humping your cock against your own thighs like a bitch in heat.

Simon’s facade, his tight grip completely snaps after that- fucking your sopping cunt first, your yowls and moans bouncing off the basement walls. He’s completely lost his mind, growling and whining incoherently as his second load spurts inside you, then his third. The lieutenant’s waited too long for this, too long for the feeling of your little boy pussy sucking him in- he can’t stop now. Not when you’re finally clinging to him instead of swatting him away, not when your cock is throbbing under his fingertips.

He can’t stop when he fingers your sweet ass open, taking your last hole for himself as you sob and squirt against the bed. His cock pounding open your ass, his eyes locked onto the way your lip quivers as you moan. Murmuring for once that you were sorry for being mean, please to not leave you ever again. Fingers digging into his skin, trying to carve yourself into him like the old shrapnel that scattered across his body

Simon is the followers favorite because he is beefy and muscular.

Gaz and Soap are a shared second - they often hold the camera for your videos and their Voices are sometimes heard.

Instead of a cutesie reference to film censorship it was an explicit statement of defiance of Maryland's criminalization gay sex, which was not repealed until 2002. This wasn't a guy saying "Oh they can't put what I do in the movies according to a completely voluntary industry code" he was saying "The State of Maryland wants to put me in jail for being gay and having gay sex."

*office is pitch black*

Gaz: Uh-??

Ghost, from the shadows: Come in

Gaz: ... why are the lights off?

Ghost: I wanted a break. We can still talk

Gaz: ... not today- *closes the door and starts speedwalking down the hall*

Frank Castle aka The Punisher who drives himself mad trying to find you. Based on your reaction to his dog tags, you must've been military. He started there. He got Lieberman to help him go through military record of everyone with the few features Fran remembered from you'd brief interaction. Hair color, eye color, rought weight and height. 

David found you first. You were a SEAL. Of course you were. You had enlisted straight out of highschool. Served 3 tours, a month before you came home on your third, you just vanished. No signs of a struggle, no message, nothing. 

So now Frank was left sitting. Now he knew who you were but what was he supposed to do with that information? Your family were all dead, so was most of your friends. Frank couldn't sleep.

Frank found you again by accident. He was walking home from a bar when he heard repeated gunfire and shouts in a warehouse. It was almost like catnip for someone like him.

Frank grabbed his gun and rushed towards the warehouse. When he burst the door open, he found you.

Frank found you standing in the middle of a ring of blood and bodies. A flickering ceiling light cast a flickering halo on you. You were absolutely covered in blood, hair matted with it, clinging to your suit. Frank had to guess you stood above at least 10 men.

When you saw Frank, you drew your gun and fired at him, zero hesitation. Frank ducked with milliseconds to spare. 

"Woah- Hey! Listen to me!" Frank shouted as he ducked behind a crate. The firing stopped. 

Frank stood with his hands to, in one hand was a paper with your name and military ID on it. "That's you." Frank held it out ifnront of you. You just stared. "You went missing a few years back. I can get you home."

You holstered your gun, reaching up to your mask. Frank watched you try to yank it off to no avail. Frank watcher your growing desperation, the muffled sobs. He began to approach slowly, his hands always in your view. You tried slamming your jaw against a wall. As soon as Frank saw you do it, he rushed forward and put his hand between the wall and your head. 

"Hey- dont do that, let me help."

Frank waited a moment until you nodded. Frank moved your hair away from your neck, the clasp on the back made Frank's blood boil. It could only be undone by someone else. You would.never be able to get the mask off yourself. Frank took in a deep breath and undid the clasp. As soon as he did, you jerked away. The mask clattered to the ground. 

You turned to face Frank. You had a slight tan line on your face where the mask had covered. The thing that Frank noticed the most were the two scars on your dimples. Two scars that looked like you had been injected in those spots many many times. You seemed just as baffled, reaching up to feel the skin.

Frank noticed something silver sticking out of the mask. He picked it up. Where your dimples would be were two needles that connected to the fang like pieces of your mask. Every minute or so, they would eject just a little bit of a chemical thay smelled horrible. Whatever ot was, it was going to your skin hundreds of times daily. Frank held the mask up to you. 

"Do ya know what it is?"

Frank waited a minute, you just stared.

"We get the mask off and ya still can't fuckin' talk."

You took a few steps away.

"Hey- where are you..."

You bent over and blood poured from your mouth. 

"Fuck."

Frank waited unit you finished, wiping your mouth on your gloves. 

"Lemme see."

Frank checked for any injuries that would make you do that but couldn't find anything. Must be internal. Frank took an assessment of you. You were still drenched in blood. Frank had to at least get some of it out of your eyes. 

"Hold on. Stay right there."

Frank rushed away and bought some water and a first aid kit from a corner store. When he returned, he firstly noted that you had thrown up more blood.

"Ya gotta stop doin' that."

Frank tried to joke but it didnt quite land. 

"Not one for jokes?"

Frank motioned for you to come closer. He took a strip of cloth and wet it. He slowly moved it over your eyes and face. Frank then grabbed the bottle and handed to you.

"Drink. You know how to do that, right?"

You drank graciously from the bottle, finishing it in seconds. Frank saw you eyeing the other things in the bag, the first aid kit and gummy bears.

"Ya ever had these?" Frank held out the bag. "I get them sometimes when I need a pick me up...my daughter liked them too."

He watched you tear into the bag and stare and the small multicolored gummies before taking a few and handing them back. 

"You eat them." Frank mumbled while eating a handful himself. He saw you eat them and huffed through your nose. Frank smiled to himself. You threw up more blood. 

Frank heard a small beep, after a few seconds, another one. It was coming from your mask. You looked at the mask the same time as him. The mask and bedn slowly pouring the chemical out on the floor. 

"Its the mask. Isn't it? That keeps you not thrown' up? That's what the chemical does?" You nodded slightly. "And what does the beep mean?" You just stared. "Right. Can't fuckin' talk."

Frank stood, pacing back and forth. He couldn't make you put them mask back on. Even the thought made Frank feel horribly sick.

"You've gotta put it back on." Frank gritted out.

You looked up, shaking your head repeatedly, also standing and backing up.

"I know- I know. But I can't have you die on the floor right here. You put the mask back on, Ill figure out what that shit is, and what it's doing to you, and how to fix it. Then I will come and find you and Ill get you out of whatever the hell you're in. But you have to put the mask back on." 

You stared at Frank for a good long while before walking forward and picking up the mask. You placed it back on your face, watching Frank the whole time, he watched the needles slide back into your cheeks. You walked away to the door, as you left Frank called out.

“I promise, Ill find you again!”

Once he was sure you were gone, he took a sample of the chemical and your blood to take it to Madani.

He will get you out.

Stop drawing Simon Riley with a veil- MAKE ME!!!

this will kill people and they know it, because they prefer us dead and out of sight. the government, the NHS and even the opposition have made this clear again and again. a twenty-five year old can have sex, get married have children, join the military, earn a living, be halfway up the corporate ladder or highly successful in their chosen career field by that age, but they can’t transition under NHS rules. this is a death sentence for trans teenagers and they are going ahead with it. it’s trans genocide, same as across the pond.

Well, shit, now I'm crying.

Torn Pants

RIP. 50 pounds of bare ass stare right back at Price.

"Um, Nikolai, my love," Price whispers, attempting to keep his voice low.

Nikolai grunts as he gets up from where he was, "Yes, yes, I'm aware, malyshka, I just need to go get my-"

"Nik, do you not wear underwear?" Price looks up at man, brow raised, "There's nothing there, Nik."

The man just sighs, looking at his beloved. He then, shamelessly, grins, "There is no underwear in the world that could survive my massive ass."

Price groans, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Oh my god, I can't even with you." But despite his husband's frankly insane comment, a small grin pulled on his face. He couldn't help but chuckle. And, hearing Price crack, Nikolai let out a hearty laugh, leaning back against his work bench.

Price takes a moment, to settle before a thought nestles into his head. His eyes light up and he smirks at Nikolai. The pilot catches the look, grinning. They both share another look and a nod, before Price is working at his belt. Nik watches, leaning back. He bites his lip as he watches his lover's cock spring out of its restraints.

Price pumps his cock, once, twice. It doesn't take long for the pre-cum to leak out, dribbling out of the tip. With his free hand, he grabs his lover, pulling him close for a kiss. Lips crash against each other, tongues tangle together, it's pure ecstacy.

The moment Price pulls away, Nik whines out for Price. Price smirks as he turns him around. "Impatient, are we?"

Nik is then met with the feeling of Price's cock burying deep into his ass, hitting the spot just right. "Fuck, malyshka. You're doing so well."

Price leans forward and settles against Nik's temple, pressing kisses along his husband's cheek, "I barely started."

Nik takes in a breath, smiling, "I'm trying to be a supportive partner. Now, shut up and keep going."

Price grins, grabbing Nik's hairy ass and rolling his hips in a steady rhythm, "You like that, huh?"

Nik is practically purring, greedily chasing the pleasure. He nods eagerly, a groan rolling out of him as the captain sanps his hips forward.

"Oh, come on, Nik," Price's pace becomes much more brutal as he slams his hips forward with every thrust, "You know how this works. I gotta hear you say it."

Nik is barely able to get a word out, too entrapped in the pleasure to even try. He's grunting and groaning with each thrust, absolutely consumed with pleasure. He turns his head, instead capturing Price's lips in his. Price is much too weak for the man to protest.

Their clothes rustle against each other, warming their bodies as the frigid Autumn winds seep in through the cracks. The fire that kindles between them is a warmth like a crackling hearth. The sounds of their pleasure nearly consume them completely. That moment together is everything, being tangled in each other's arms as they indulge in each other's warmth-

CRUNCH.

The sound of leaves. Crunching under someone's boots. Right outside the garage. 'Fuck' they both panic. Instead of doing the sensible thing, pulling out and covering up, Nikolai spins right around Price's and jumps into Price's arms. Then, he grabs his jacket, wrapping it around his waist. Price just stands there, stunned, holding Nik by the thighs.

Ramona slips, holding some files in hand. She was rambling in Russian, flipping through the folders in her hand. "Here are the files you wanted. also i saw Kyle on the way and he-" she stops as she sees the two of them. From her perspective, Nikolai, a grown man, is being carried by a seemingly very confused Price.

"What the hell did I just walk in on," she stands still, files still in hand, waiting for a moment before she just waves them off, "Never mind I don't even want to know. You do you. Or whatever." She leaves the files on the table and leaves.

They watch as she leaves, their gaze staying there for a moment, before they turn back to each other. They are both still a little stunned, before Nikolai just smirks, "We should probably continue this somewhere more… private."

Price thinks, "We ought to head to our quarters."

"Well, I hope you aren't thinking of making me walk. I rather like it up here."

Price sighs, adjusting his grip on Nikolai, "Well then, I guess I've got no other option."

With Nikolai firmly in his grasps, and so many other options for what he could've done, he shuffles as quickly as he can to get to their quarters. The gentle warmth of the fall sun caresses their face as the leaves and acorns are kicked up under Price's boots. This would be such a nice moment if Nikolai wasn't being such an arse.

Nikolai decided that this would be the perfect time to be a teasing little minx. "Oh, yeah, use me daddy."

"Nik, shut up."

"Oh, what? You're the one that asked me to be more vocal."

Price was going red in the face, "I beg of you Nik-"

"Oh, do you? I love it when you beg," Nikolai is purring in the man's ear at this point, readjusting himself on his husband's cock.

"There is a time and place, Nik. Time and fucking place!"

Nikolai is close to cackling, shaking against Price's shoulder. The friction is too much for Price and he cums, right as he's walking with Nik in hand. He falters for a moment, panting against his husband, before he goes back to walking with Nik in his arms.

They finally make it back to their quarters, laughing softly and peppering each other in kisses. Price sits on the bed and Nikolai takes the chance to push Price onto the bed and loom above him, removing himself from Price's cock.

Happy fourth

Celebrating the 4th by wearing an American flag bikini ->

Small might, you some how convinced him to do it, he enjoys celebrating the 4th, why not make you happy too,

Phillip Graves does it for the love of the game

Probably already drunk off his ass when he does it,

Pours whiskey down the middle of his titties while you try and lick it off before it spills,

He has no titties

-🐝

So let’s go ahead and talk about that Google document that’s been making its rounds on Reddit, tumblr, Twitter, discord, etc because it’s clear to me you fuckers just want ai generated content. “I don’t want ai slop I’ll take things written by human hands any day of the week- “ okay but that’s not what the numbers support.

Because while everyone else was up in arms about what author used ai, I couldn’t help but focus on how many hits and how many kudos those fics received meanwhile things written by people are getting bare minimum engagement and not providing incentive to write consistently

And it’s clear- based on that list- that a lot more people are using ai in fandom spaces than they’re admitting and you guys have grown so fucking used to that, that you’ve genuinely forgotten how much time it actually takes to write things. Back in my day it was considered a “frequently updated fic” if someone posted a new chapter once every couple of months. But now, thanks to ai, you get a new chapter every few days or every week- never stop to question that- and theb wonder why when someone actually writes something, it takes so long.

Instead of understanding that people have lives, that people write things and then delete the whole thing to rewrite it again which takes twice the amount of time, that people get writers block, etc it’s clear to me that people like you would suck off an ai user if it got you content much faster as long as you didn’t have to admit that you liked the ai generated content in question (so you can remain morally superior or some shit)

You weren't against the idea of a big family until your ultrasound, where the doctor confirmed two viable fetuses. "Twins?" Kyle gasps as he squeezes your hand, looking at you with a beaming smile. You stare at him wide-eyed, heart jumping in your chest as you look between the screen and his face.

"Two... Wait, no, that's not supposed to happen." You whisper, breath starting to come in short bursts. "We aren't prepared for two kids! Two babies!"

"Hey, hey, hey... Simon already built us one crib he can build another. Look at me, love, look at me." Kyle cradles your face in his hands. "I'm here. I'm here for you, and our babies."

"What if we get them confused? What if they get switched around?"

"They have medical tattoos that can tell them apart, it's okay."

"We're going to give them tattoos!?!"