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[minihotdog]

[minihotdog]

I’ve had this festering in my brain for months. Government issued wife

there's a retired/old DS i watch on YT and he uses the phrase "If the military wanted you to have a wife, they would've assigned you one."

what if they do?

it's some new program implemented for whatever reason and you think it's one of the worst fucking ideas until your friend tells you that one gets paid a massive sum once the marriage is finalized, and you can divorce within the year no strings attached.

you'd expected a regular man with like 2 years left in his contract, not some spec ops mask wearing freak who calls you his wife within seconds of meeting you for the first time ever and mumbles something about his kids needing to be raised in england and--

?

kids?

[minihotdog]

nap with dad.

[minihotdog]

she's so cute, the poor thing. what the fuck is he supposed to do with a pretty girl like this? (18+, a little smidge of dark!simon)

she's so dumb. she nods when he talks, says yes, simon, yeah when he asks her if he can take her home. she purrs yes, simon, m-more when he buries his masked face between her thighs as he makes her ride his covered mouth. she sings when he touches her, cries when his gloved fingers fuck her open, and she whines s-so good, simon, please, more, simon when he bottoms out into her soft cunt with all of his clothes still on.

vest strapped, thigh holsters still buckled, cargo pants still around his waist, nothing but his belt buckle open and his zipper down when he fucks you into the cushions of your couch. you're drooling, positively cock-stupid, bouncing with the rough rhythm he keeps. it's salvation, coming home to a pretty girl underneath him, and he wants to hold you hard enough to make you bleed when he grips the meat of your hips and watches your ass push back against him.

so dumb. so stupid. the prettiest girl he has ever seen, and she has no idea what it is that fucks the shape of them into her so that they will know if someone else has been here. she has no idea what the thing on top of her has done, has no idea how deranged and terrible his mind is, she doesn't know.

she never asked how he knew where she lived. she never asked how he knew which button to press in the elevator. she never asked how he knew to turn left instead of right. she never asked where he got that key, or why it worked when he opened up the door of her flat.

all she asks for is for him to fuck, please, simon--m-more!

she's so cute. she'll do just fine.

[minihotdog]

[minihotdog]

wait wait because imagine being a normal OF creator or a cam girl, just a small name nobody who does it for the sole purpose of getting through college. you keep your face out of everything, nothing in the background of any video of yours is personal, like once you get your degree this entire account is getting deleted and it'll be a thing of the past. (not that you're ashamed or anything. we respect sex workers of all kinds here)

and you plan on doing a different kind of video: one of you fucking yourself with a new, much bigger toy. usually you keep to the rabbits and bullets but following your friends advice, you fucking yourself on a dildo wouldn't be terrible.

plus you need it, sweetheart. when was the last time you even had a date?

bitch. (affectionately)

and as soon as you walk into your usual sex store, you double take. there is no, NO, way that is pornstar!ghost's dick you've just spotted as a dildo.

he's been your favorite pornstar long before you even started this side hustle. who in their right mind can resist that beast of a man with the mask and the tattoos and the heaving thing that's between his legs--

you take it home immediately.

it's almost sad how stupid you fuck yourself on it, cunt split open and dripping onto the floorboard for the internet to see but in that moment, you don't give a fuck.

you don't remember how many times you come that night nor how many viewers you had watching your puffy lips swallow "ghost's" cock whole, but come morning, you notice your bank account and it is padded.

PADDED.

one particular tipper was incredibly generous and they even left a message.

i'd love to see you do that on the real thing.

yeah, me too.

(whoever that is becomes a loyal follower who tips regularly.)

*screaming at the thought of simon getting himself off at your video. hasn't come that hard in months and that says a lot since he's yknow, a pornstar.*

[minihotdog]

I realize I got to show Simon's boy-2-man transformation, but not Johnny's, so here you go~

My Baby boy has grown into such a fine GENTLEMAN! Not so WEE anymore, right??? He will always be that little 'troublemaker' to me, L.O.L., but now he is out there SERVING HIS COUNTRY. God bless my Johnny AND the Troops. <333333 XOXO

[minihotdog]

Exfil thoughts with the Task Force 141.

Soap: Animals that are named for what they do? I’ll start: Woodpecker.

Gaz: Anteater.

Ghost: Killer whale.

Price: ...

Gaz: Come on, Captain.

Price: Don't push me.

Soap: It's not that hard.

Price: ...

Price: Fly.

[minihotdog]

I just think johnny could convince simon to wear a kilt

[minihotdog]

Regency!Ghost won't take your virtue before you're married, but he will eat you out.

He'll spend the long hours of the night and the short hours of the morning with his tongue lapping between your folds and his lips sealed around your clit. He'll drag his mouth over your sopping slit and dig his fingers into your soft thighs to keep you spread open for him. A slow and gentle exploration, a treat for doing this properly, for making a proper woman of you like you deserve. It's for him more than it's for you, but that doesn't mean he doesn't wiggle his tongue against your clit or push his thick finger into your tight hole, easing you to the edge of orgasm just so he can slurp at the mess you make.

He's obsessed. The noises you make, the short breaths and soft whining moans, drive his crazy. He finds his trousers soiled with come one too many times after he's worked you through orgasm after orgasm. Your legs shake under his tight grip and he refuses to leave your pretty pussy until it's puffy and aching from all his attention. You can writhe and wriggle all you like, but he'll keep holding you where he wants you, keep lapping his broad tongue over your slit and spelling his name on your clit. Oversensitive? You can take it lovie, just let him have this yeah? Let your man enjoy you, he's being so good not taking what he really wants, you can deal with an orgasm... or ten

[minihotdog]

[minihotdog]

thinking about being the new addition to tf141. you are an asset given to laswell by the CIA, a timid little thing but your aim is always on target, and you are quiet, tech savvy, and you do as you're told. (18+, dark)

just how lieutenant riley prefers. he dwarfs you. the first time you meet, your eyes nearly come out of your head from how wide they go. he's so large, and you feel so tiny compared to him, and even though he does nothing but a disinterested once over, it is obvious to the rest of the team that you might just be his favorite.

it's most obvious in the subtle touches. when you're getting ready to jump, ghost comes up from behind and tugs on your parachute, nearly topping you over making sure it's secure. when you're getting ready in the back of the humvee, he reaches over and buckles your thigh holster for you when he notices the strap is coming loose. you nearly choke when you feel his big hand between your thighs, and you stare up at him with wide eyes when his pinkie moves up the seam of your zipper when he tugs his hand away.

and then the way he's on your six is unlike anything else. like glue, chest pressed to your back, his gloved hand squeezing your waist as he moves you every which way he pleases because you're so small to him, so easy, and he growls under his breath when he touches the curve of your hips or the fat of your ass.

maybe you might enjoy it if he wasn't so fucking awkward about it. if he didn't stare at you without blinking. if he didn't adjust his cock in his jeans right in front of you. if he didn't grip you by the back of your head, tugging you any way he wanted as if scolding a kitten using the scruff of their neck.

you think the team would notice by now--that they would step in, tell ghost to back off, but they turn a blind eye. they tolerate this behavior, and you don't know if it's because ghost is so good at his job, they don't want to, or that they are so afraid of him, they refuse to say anything.

or maybe they approve. maybe it keeps ghost at bay. maybe it keeps a lion in his den. a spider in its nest. maybe indulging ghost in his fucked form of flirting and socialization is what keeps the foundations of this team right where it needs to be--and you realize, slowly, that maybe that is why you're here.

because ghost likes them soft, and they need to put a muzzle on their dog.

so when you feel him in the dark, slipping a gloved hand under the blanket that keeps you warm at night, he is pleasantly surprised to find you awake. and even more surprised to feel your hand slipping the soft lace of your panties right into his fucking pocket.

"they teach y'that 'n basic training? how ta give y'r knickers to y'r lieutenant, eh?"

"no," you whisper, and when you meet his eyes in the dark, he looks so hungry. he's untamed, no training, he's used to getting what he wants with no resistance. you turn over in bed, and you don't get to see the way he sucks on his teeth when you let your knees fall, revealing the pretty place between your thighs, soft and puffy and wet, just waiting for a good mutt to eat her up. "but i learned other things."

"tha' right?"

"yeah," you say softly, and you turn over onto your stomach, pushing back onto your knees right in front of him. he bends, leaning over until he's pushing his masked face right into the seam of your cunt, and you grip the sheets tight when he inhales deeply, a rumble following as both of his hands grip either side of your ass and spread you open for him. you're drooling, wetting the nylon fabric, and you gasp when you feel the wet, warm muscle of his tongue suck on your folds through the mask. it's lewd, and you're wetting the material so much it sticks to the strong lines of his face, but he continues, tilting his head to the side as he laps at the pretty slick that dampens your thighs.

"what'd y'learn then, swee'eart?"

not how to fuck your lieutenant. but...you did learn to keep them happy.

"h-how to be a good girl."

and you think you feel him smile.

[minihotdog]

Sick <3

Zombie!Ghost x Survivor You ☢️🖤

Part 8: Ghost takes matters into his own hands to get you talking. Maybe a lil bit gruesomely?! He’s very dead, but so are you without him…

Ghost moves restlessly from foot to foot, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth, running unchecked from his broken jaw.

Unable to help himself, he’s loitering at the foot of the bed, watching you. Again.

Your eyelids flutter.

“Stop making this weird.” Half asleep still, you’re aware of his monstrous presence lurking in your peripheral vision.

He chuckles, the sound low and throaty. Cold fingers reach out and paw at your exposed toes. You yelp loudly and retract them under the covers.

“Please.” His rough voice sounds stronger now, but it still slurs oddly. You open one eye, not sure what he’s asking permission for.

Ghost isn’t sure either to be honest and Si has no idea. So he lays his weight next to you on the bed, hoping he’ll start saying another word soon.

You rest in silence for a minute. It’s heavy with the weight of what happened last night.

Still it helped. You’re not as rabidly aroused for the moment. But it’s unlocked a dangerous precedent, shifted the way things are between you.

It’s fucking sick. But then, who’s left to judge you?

Absolutely no one.

Ghost huffs to get your attention.

“What?”

Those blank eyes stare at you, trying to tell you something.

“Don’t wanna talk about it.” You itch a scab on your almost healed ankle. Ghost slaps your hand angrily.

He grunts and his mouth tries to form a word. But his jaw is so ruined, you can’t read his lips. Frustrated, he tries blinking in a careful sequence.

“Are you having a seizure?” You ask him seriously, looking mildly concerned.

Ghost closes his eyes twice for no, even though he’s fuming that you don’t know basic morse code.

You sit up on an elbow and face him.

“Please don’t make me talk to you about it, when you can’t reply. It’s not a conversation I want to have with myself.”

He absolutely glares at you, colourless eyes narrowed, growling with irritation. You’re making excuses, well he’ll fucking show you.

Rising to his feet abruptly, he stomps heavily out of the room, making the picture frames rattle. You watch him go, wondering how it’s possible you’ve managed to hurt a dead man’s feelings.

Ghost searches just about every drawer in the house. He’s looking for something very particular, turning over the contents of cupboards with rough fingers. Then he finds it in the kitchen.

A needle and thick thread.

He settles himself in front of the small mirror in the bathroom and removes his mask. Fuck he looks awful, he knew it was bad under there, but it’s enough to even frighten him.

White eyes framed by the hollowest sockets, blue shadows under them. Sunken cheeks and skin so transparent, he can see the stagnant blueish veins spreading underneath. He doesn’t need a skull mask anymore, he practically is one.

He examines his jaw clinically, seeing whether the bone is exposed enough that he can tie it together. It won’t be a permanent fix, but it’s better than nothing. So he gets to work.

Ghost has stitched plenty of wounds in his life. His nose has been broken enough times that it no longer sits straight on his face.

Half an hour later you feel you should try and make friends. Unsteadily you hobble around the house looking for him, ankle still sore.

Out of one upended box, you pull a little notepad. It’s blank, so you decide to keep it, like a captains log chronicling your strange life now.

Then you hear him enter the room behind you.

“Look what I found! Hey listen, I’m sorry—”

Your voice stutters to a halt.

There he stands, all six foot whatever of pure undead menace. There’s a neat patchwork of stitches along one side of his face, holding his jawline more firmly in place.

He looks like Frankensteins monster, but it’s vaguely endearing. Ghost grunts, then mouths a word with very obvious effort, pointing at you grimly.

“Talk.”

Well shit.

“I don’t know what to say! This entire situation is bizarre!” You wail at him, sinking into a nearby armchair.

He folds his arms over his chest and huffs disapprovingly at your statement. Then he mouths something else slowly.

“Enjoy it?” He tilts his head slightly to indicate it’s a question.

Looking at the floor, you nod. Yes you did enjoy it. But that isn’t the point.

“That doesn’t make it right Ghost.”

A cold finger tips your chin upwards to his face. His lips spell out two more words slowly, working so hard his eyes look like they’re burning in his mask.

“Feels right.”

@ashy-kit @cutiecusp @deadmarygolds @redbleedingrose @dustycrusty09 @darkangel4121 @smexysarah @cmbghost @silly-norman @sigrid666 @pxssygxblin @spicyspicyliving @itsyaboinoah @misshugs @mashpotat88 @blush-haze @kolpvii @sobbingnshtting @murder-hobo @nexthyperfix @chinaza444 @lolly145

Masterlist is here

[minihotdog]

New illustration available as this weeks reward 💕 Shower sex with 7(!!!) variations (cis/trans and its variations) im really happy about this one, would love if you could check it out <3

[minihotdog]

YEAH? AND?

[minihotdog]

“pink pussy” “cheeks flushed red” broke 🙅🏻‍♀️

vs

“wet/sensitive/puffy/etc pussy” “cheeks heated/warmed” woke 🤫🧏🏼‍♀️

[minihotdog]

just thinking about simon literally fucking the breath out of you. whether you're missionary, his palms flat against the backs of your thighs to spread your pussy for him, to make more space as he bullies himself into you, thumbs brushing over your lips where he's sheathed OR!!!!!! in doggy, your face smushed into the sheets as he puts his entire weight behind his thrusts, barely able to rasp out more than a 'please' or garbled variation of his name when his blunt fingertips brush over your clit.