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@goonette6969
꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚૮꒰˵•ᵜ•˵꒱ა‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷
Lazy introduction posttt
Hii my name is Nugget or you can just call me Goonette idrc
This blog is explicitly 18+ only!!
I'm getting into being a SH blog now so I will probably be reposting gore/sh now so if you don't like that please don't interact!!
I'm multiple fandom here are some of the things I'm intoo/repost:
Obey me shall we date
COD (Call of Duty)
Dispatch
Ongezellig
Yaoi
Kinks/other stuff I'm into
Havent been here on a while lol, life's been busy ASF and I moved to Twitter so I literally forgot I had a tumblr
Item: The Bindle Rarity: ⏶ Common
What video game world would be your #1 travel destination?
Feed your dashboard by answering my question, blogger.
Definitely Obey me! shall we date, hands down
SIMON “GHOST” RILEY who can’t ever last while fucking you. he’s tried and tried, looking anywhere but the way you glisten and stretch all wide around him as he slides himself inside you. he clenches his jaw, only breathing roughly through his nose because you always feel better than the time before and it’s driving up the bleeding wall. you’re pawing at his biceps and slurring his name out on drunk-sounding wails. and much prettier than he deserves. and tugging the hair he’s let grown out with needy fingers.
no, no. please. he wants it to last longer, needs it to. he wants to make you come and feel your body shake and tremble beneath his, for you to cry out big, fat tears that he’ll wipe up with his fingers and press into your tongue for you to taste while he keeps fucking you. just so he can see that all over again.
one, two, three, four thrusts and simon is groaning with his face smushed into the side of yours. he holds the tip of his cock just inside your entrance, pumping thick cum in messy ropes that leak out when he stuffs himself back inside you, disappointed groan ripping out from the bottom of his throat.
fuck.
Retired!Ghost would rather die than ever admit to his mates how obsessed he is with this little part of your routine.
Your goodnight kiss.
He scoffed at it the first time. Ghost is a former SAS soldier, who's had dealings in multiple assassinations, slept in anything but a bed for nearly two years. He could settle down for a nap still wearing clothes caked in dirt and blood, has done so plenty of times.
By all means, he shouldn't be kept awake over a simple kiss from you.
Yet, he seems to yearn for it. Ghosts mind won't shut up until you come to him all soft and warm from your shower to plant a sweet kiss over his scarred lips. You cradle his face, permanently marred from all he's done, and whisper "i love you, si. Goodnight, baby."
Only after the brush of your moisturized lips over his that ghost can settle down. A clear, clean end to his day, tucked close to you in bed.
Even when you two are fighting, without fail ghost will be found lingering outside your door. He hates asking for it, feels weird and pushy when you obviously are upset with him, but he just...can't settle properly without it.
You must love him more than anything, because without fail you pull the door open just enough to tug him in by the collar and press a kiss to him as sweet as ever and promise "I'm not happy right now, but I love you, si."
Maybe that's why he can't sleep now, refuses to sleep.
The bullet was meant for him, the soldiers broke in to kill him. You were just there first.
Now you're dead, and ghost has no one to love him, no one to hold at night, no one to cherish. He tries to hold his own jaw with his hands, but they're too rough, too battle-worn to be yours.
Ghost can't sleep without your goodnight kiss. He's nothing more than a sleep-deprived body nowadays. The military won't take him, people are scared of him.
He just wants to hear your voice again.
Sorry but @silverlullabies is [driving me crazy] again....
Imagine ghost has a little house in the middle of the woods he stays in during leave. It's technically government property, but he's a dead man and it's the best he gets. A lonely place, always with a fine layer of dust over it from the months ghost stays on base or on missions.
He knows somethings wrong the second he arrives 'home', the door left unlocked and the lights on. Inside, there's movement in the kitchen.
Slow, silent, ghost sets his bags down and grabs the knife he keeps strapped to his thigh. He creeps into the house, noting every little thing out of place. He turns the corner to see you in the kitchen.
A raccoon hybrid, with a bushy little tail and rounded ears. You nod your head and hum a song, tail swishing to the beat.
In and instant, ghost is closing the distance. Your head forcefully trapped against his chest, knife pressed to your jaw. He pins you to the counter with his bodyweight, effectively immobilizing you with a growl "who the fuck are you, kid? Hm? A spy, or some homeless punk?"
You tremble in his grasp, gasping high and tight in panic, tail thrashing wildly against his thigh "I– I– don't– I didn't realize–"
"Yeah, o' course you didn't." Ghost grunts, jostling you just to hear the horrified gasp. He looks around the kitchen, sneering "made yerself at home, hm? Eatin' my food, using my water."
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You wail, little ears pinned back. Your claws rip through ghosts sleeve, dig into his arm, but he doesn't flinch "please don't hurt me!"
"Oh? Yeah?" He slams your head into the counter, keeping you bent over it even as you try to push away. Ghosts other hand pulls at your little ears, travels down to your tail. "....yknow, I always wanted a pet...."
He stabs the knife into the counter, and inch from your neck.
"You like it here, don't you, mutt? Why don't you be my dog, hm?" He leans down, puts all of his weight onto your back. You can feel him against your ass. Ghost rubs himself against you shamelessly, "how about you stay?"
You hear a zipper behind you, follow by a soft groan "behave and I'll get you a nice collar, yeah?"
Price is a traditional Alpha, it's a fact you've known since you started courting him, right?
Usually, you don't mind. You like all the courting gifts he gives you. how he insists on scenting you every morning before you go off to your respective stations. how he likes to keep you close to his side, protective and possessive all at once. You like his old-school ways.
But....but there is one thing you're nervous about. Your mating bite.
John talks about it so reverently, it's obvious a big deal to him. But all you see are his large alpha fangs, those same fangs that tear throats out. All you can think about is how much it would hurt.
You try to hide it, you know how important it is to john, and you're willing to hand some pain. As your heat draws closer, the traditional setting for a mating bite, you only feel more anxious and terrified. Christ, you're not as subtle as you think.
"Okay, runt, times up." Price growls one night, looming over you in the nest. He gives you that firm look he always does when he wants you to obey "what's wrong? Yer hears knocking on the door and all you smell like is sour."
"It's....it's the mating bite, john...." you admit, tears in your eyes. The instant change in prices own smell overwhelms you, and you have to force out "I'm– I'm scared!! It's gonna hurt!"
Silence. Then, "...is that it, love?"
...what?
You peek an eye open to see price smiling fondly, all warm. He leans down to nuzzle against your neck, beard scratching your jaw "we can get you some anesthetic, yeah? Even get you some for while it heals, and I'll make sure you don't have to work after, okay?"
"...oh." that was...shockingly simple. You had expected at least some pushback. Settling into the idea, you finally relax, tilting your head back to give john better access "that sounds nice. Thank you, john."
"Mhmm. Anything for my sweet omega." He rumbles, nipping at your chin just to hear your cute growl "you gonna want pain meds for my knot, too? You seem to whine plenty about that–"
For the nonny who wanted omega!reader being scared of mating bite
Just came with out touching myself for the first time ever and omg I never felt so just wow.
So in puppy headspace tonighr omg
who wants to forcemasc me while they pin me down and treat me like a dumb boy dog. any volunteers… no… sigh…
Anatomy homework is so fucking boring. Why do I have to spend hours labelling muscles and bones with names too long for a dogbrained mutt to remember anyway?
Puppy could just have Daddy teach me. Get hxs strong hands all over every inch of me, cooing out every part that hx loves most. Telling me the names of every part that hx finds handsome. Making me repeat every word back to it, memorizing all the names of everything on Puppy’s body.
And when we get to Puppy’s pretty parts? Oh, Daddy will make sure that I get the names right. Those are what Baby needs to study hardest. Can never seem to get them right. But that’s what Daddy’s here for, isn’t it? Teaching Puppy exactly what parts I have, and all the correct names.
"Silly pup, that’s not a pussy. Those are what girls have. My puppy is a boy, yeah? And what parts do boys have down there? Huh? What’s my baby got between those legs? Mmm, veeeery good, honey. That’s my big boy. My baby’s got a big, pretty dick. So smart, hm?"
And if I get the names wrong? Then Daddy’s going to play with every part until I can remember what it’s called.
Nothing wrong with Puppy getting extra lessons.
Man up and fuck me already. I dont care if you say that ain't a dick, stop bulshitting me. Everyone can tell what you call a clit is nothing but a small dick ready for me suck on, now stop bitching and let me make you feel good.
Puppies are always prettier when they're more intoxicated! Those adorable doe-eyes, the tongues that can't help but lull out of their mouths to start panting, their constant need for attention. An intoxicated puppy is a perfect puppy!~
The red string of fate connecting you and your soulmate should have been sacred, the tether binding your souls forever.
So how the hell did you end up here?
Drenched in blood and mud, rain pouring down the battlefield around you. This was supposed to be a simple operation, that's what graves told you. He failed to mention the 141, leading you and your men like pigs to a slaughter.
"Move and I snap your neck." Ghost huffs against your ear.
You wouldn't be here if you didn't flinch. If you didn't hesitate. Ghost was just another objective, but seeing that red string around his gloved hand...you froze.
Ghost didn't. He knocked you on your ass, held a knife to your throat, and used the red string to fucking tie you up.
"You'll behave, right love?" He sounds so amused when he says it, the red string pulled so tight you swear it cuts your skin "no one to untie you, hm?"
The worst part is he's right.
Only you and ghost can see or touch the string. He's thorough in his work. You couldn't escape even with a knife to cut the chord.
"Change of plans, sir," ghost speaks into his comm. A heavy paw rests on the back of your neck, keeping you pinned to the dirt. "We're taking a live one."
Ghost knows price will approve, he doesn't make changes to the mission lightly, but it's still nice to hear his captain say "affirm. Do what you need to, lieutenant."
The concept of pervert!reader and ghost who either doesn't know or doesn't care.
You're barely a blip on ghosts radar, just the secretary who does...something...around base. He only notices you out of the rest because you like to bring him tea. You try to keep it that way.
One winter night, when you were chatting with him, he caught your eyes drifting to the jacket slung over his chair and huffed "got that back when I returned. Good quality. Probably older than you and still put-together after wearing it every day."
Now, with ghost out on a mission, that same jacket is wrapped around you in bed. You pretend it's ghost keeping you warm, the smell of dirt and blood still heavy in the fabric.
Little trinkets of ghosts are scattered about your room, each one a trophy. The knife you took two weeks ago is your best friend, hilt perfectly shaped to slide in and out of you. Ghost made each modification, wrapped the hilt to fit his hand. It must be fate that each alteration rubs perfectly over your walls.
Ghost, much too old and jaded for you, the object of your fantasies. You've returned some of the items after you had your fun. A few pens, dirty boxers, a boot. You make sure he never notices they leave, sometimes placing them back only hours after you took them.
You work the knife harder at the thought of ghost casually using the same items you did to get off. Writing reports with those pens, wearing the clothes you hump and rub on, cleaning the weapons you kiss.
Christ, what you'd do to have him. To feel his hands on your body. Even in anger or disgust you'd love it. But you can't risk losing ghost forever once he knows the truth.
So you settle on burying your nose into his jacket and pretending the old sweat smell is from him fucking you like he should.
It's a shame you never plan to tell him.
You're a sorry thief, and ghost has been keeping close tabs on everything you take. He'd love to repay the sentiment.
Imagine a the sergeants going to a cat cafe but for hybrids...
It was meant as a joke, but is it really a joke when they both happily drop fifty dollars for the visitation fee? The cafe has plenty of couches and large cat beds for the hybrids, and for the first few minutes the sergeants are treated to the sight of two hybrids cuddling and rotting against each other.
Imagine being one of the cats in the cafe, one that the staff warn is 'not fond of men'. which is to say you will absolutely refuse to leave your kitty house if there's a man you don't like on the floor.
But you still approach kyle and johnny, eyes wide and skinny tail twitching behind you.
You are simply the cutest thing, not at all scared of the sergeants when kyle offers you treats. You happily lick from his hand, not so much as flinching when he rubs your ears or johnny pats your back. You purr and nuzzle up against them, sniffing curiously at the dirt and nature you smell on their clothing.
You, the cat who's known to dislike most patrons, are climbing all over the sergeants. The staff ask them if they brought in any outside food, but no. You truly just are that enamoured with them.
Kyle jokingly snaps a picture to send the group chat, wondering if he could get price to adopt you for the team. With the way your purr and nuzzle and lick them, soap thinks you may actually be able to do it.
