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#I’m rotating him in my mind like a microwave

gayjameswilson · 2 years

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Sometimes I make really detailed and analytical posts discussing Wilson but other times I just need to make posts like this:

❤️Wilson💗Wilson💖Wilson💝Wilson💞Wilson💘Wilson💕Wilson❤️Wilson💗Wilson💝Wilson💞Wilson💘Wilson💕Wilson❤️Wilson💗Wilson💖Wilson💝Wilson💞Wilson💘Wilson💕Wilson❤️Wilson💗Wilson💝

#he is rotating in my mind and I’m watching him like he’s my food in the microwave #house md #james wilson

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doodle-birdo · 1 year

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I love the way you draw pk, I wanna hold him like hampter. Maybe put him in a sweater like a cat.

Aw, thank you! ☺️ He’s THE scrimblo so he gets special treatment. THE Default mf to be drawn when bored.

And like a cat, he isn’t gonna like that sweater. All awkward and shit.

#hk pale king #sorry bout not posting the ask sooner #I get started with something #then stop for a while and then #because I don’t like it not finished I try to finish it #how this man is my absolute fav is beyond me #probably 60% of my sketchbook is him and wyrms in general #I’m so normal about him #I rotate him in my mind like he’s in a microwave #birdo's inbox

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velvetures · 9 months

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Got Me Snoring

A/N: One of my favorite things inspired by all the Ghost/König cosplayer TikToks using that one, song audio. Summary: Ghost admits getting head is boring. Reader isn't happy with that idea and goes about changing his mind. T/W: NS/FW 18+ Only, blowjobs, deepthroating, size kink if you squint, spit?, cursing, aggressive tension?, taunting, not proofread, and it's been a long ass time since I've written full-on smut.

“All I’m sayin’ is that if she calls again, I’m not about to answer.” Soap’s voice carried from the living space of the hotel room to the kitchenette where you stood microwaving some rice from a convenience store down the street.

After-mission talk always leads to the most strange conversations. Maybe the adrenaline or the high of getting almost killed got everyone in a talking mood. However as the Captain slid behind you to go grab more ice outside in the hallway, you couldn’t help but shoot him a questioning look. They’d been talking about their previous accomplishments and failures in the bedroom for nearly twenty minutes, and thankfully they’d not roped you into the ridiculous conversation but with the Captain leaving out of the room, it drew their eyesight right to you standing patiently for your instant rice to finish cooking.

“What about you, huh?” Gaz was the one to poke a little. “Have any horror stories from the bedroom?” His eyebrows raised in mischievous curiosity as all three men sat staring at you with great intent.

“I’ve faked it plenty of times.” You reply offhandedly, waving a hand at them and going back to staring at the small plastic cup rotating around in the microwave.

You overheard the men pass through the moment of silence with low laughs, most noticeably, Ghost. Who’d apparently found something very funny and decided to grace everyone with the sound of deep and resounding chuckles. With a gloved hand, you take out your food and rejoin them in the room, finding a spot on the corner of one of the beds and crossing your legs to hold the bowl while you watch and listen to more of their recounted stories.

Soap complained more about the one night he’d met up with one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met, and drank himself into oblivion to try and ease his nerves. The only problem was, that when he finally had enough liquid courage to make a move, he couldn’t get it up. Even watching him recount the tale now, you could see his embarrassment. You couldn’t imagine just how beautiful that woman had to be for Soap to give himself whiskey-dick so bad that to this day he regretted the memory and undoubtedly wished he could take it back. Gaz got pressured into retelling the story of the woman he met in Russia just for you since you’d never heard it; Detailing just how she’d been absolutely obsessed with him right from the get-go.

She couldn’t stop fawning over his accent and just how downright good-looking he was. Gaz on the other hand felt very embarrassed and never really tried to take things further on that trip. Fortunately for him, on a trip back a few months later for pleasure, he ran into the woman again and this time around she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Soap and Ghost laughed, poking fun at how utterly exhausted Garrick was when he met up with them in London. His shit-eating grin was more than enough for them to surmise that his little Russian vixen had taken him for a hell of a ride.

Then there was Ghost.

He didn’t have much to say in the way of his own successes, but did share one or two small comparisons with the other two as they kept pulling out detail after detail about the many people they’d met over the years and how they either felt they’d left their mark… or totally fucking missed it. All of it came to a very interesting topic that you suddenly became very interested in when Ghost uttered one single statement that left your mouth hanging open and staring at him almost in disbelief.

“I don’t like someone blowin’ my cock,” his voice sounded flat. Totally unbothered and nearly sleeping at the idea. “Never cared much for it when half doesn’t fit.”

You couldn’t help but insert yourself into the conversation after a long hour or so of sitting like a viewer at a movie. “Wait a second… You mean to tell me you don’t like getting head because you're too big?” The gasp in your tone was obvious, and even Soap and Gaz looked at him a little strangely as if they didn’t truly believe the idea either. It gave you a bit more reassurance in your belief that almost all men enjoyed it. Sure, there was the odd chance that Ghost just didn’t like it at all, but you really wanted to hear his explanation if he’d give you one.

The Lieutenant turned to look at you and nodded stiffly. “Yeah, ‘bout always puts me to sleep.”

It was at this point you felt the slightest urge to tell him he’d never had someone give him a legitimately good blowjob before. But before you could even say something to the contrary, a thought crossed your mind. Ghost didn’t seem like the kind of man who attracted ill-experienced women. Especially when he had already proven throughout the evening that his previous encounters were much more interesting and expansive than even that of yourself. Something a bit… jealous rose inside of you at the thought.

Imagining your Lieutenant laying on his back and hardly making any sort of sound while someone pulls out every single trick in their arsenal to make a blowjob somewhat entertaining or arousing. You didn’t necessarily profess yourself to have a crush on Ghost, due to just how grey the line between operators and anything felt when you spent so much time together under high-stress environments. There was bound to be some level of emotional attachment that devolved past… professional. And for whatever it was, knowing that Ghost had such a bad opinion on the receiving end of pleasure became a challenge you wanted to overcome.

About that time, Price returned with half-melted ice and a half-smoked cigar hanging between his lips.

“Finished talking about chasin’ tail yet?” He grumbled, walking past the group of you still sitting around each other like a bunch of kids getting caught staying up late by Dad at a sleepover. “Wanna go to fuckin’ sleep.”

He dropped the ice bucket down on the dresser with a little thud before settling himself down on the pull-out couch with his hat covering his eyes and both arms resting behind his head with that cigar still puffing smoke rings into the air. Ghost was the first to stand up, making his way out of the hotel room without as much as a comment about when he’d be back or where he was going. Your eyes trailed over his shoulders tapering into a slim waist before giving way again to thick and muscular thighs enhanced by all of gear still strapped to his body. His kit did leave a lot to the imagination. And god did your mind start to wander as both Soap and Gaz began winding down, settling themselves down to sleep for the night or at least lay somewhere quietly so the Captain didn’t lose any more of his patience and kick someone out or force them to pay for their own room. Not nearly tired enough with all of the questions and thoughts about Ghost now floating through your mind, you didn’t care the least bit about laying down or pretending not to care about the fact of the matter and headed out of the hotel room after the Lieutenant as Soap turned out the final lamp in the corner of the room.

The air was a bit cold outside without your jacket, breath materializing in front of you in light wisps of fog with every exhale as you looked down both ends of the hallway hoping to see some sign of where Ghost might’ve gone to. Down on the far left side, a larger cloud of smoke blew past the breezeway entrance and you knew right away that Ghost would be at the end of it. And when your eyes peeked around the corner, you weren’t the least bit surprised to see him with a shoulder resting up against the wall; his back to you with enough of his mask pulled up so that he could smoke a cigarette. The sweet vanilla and cherry smell hit you like a wall, reminding you that Ghost preferred rolling his own cigarettes and used pipe tobacco instead of buying packs of anything else.

Leaves no trace behind… He’d explained without prompting one night after noticing that you’d been watching him.

“Followin’ me now?” His voice heavy with smoke and unhindered by his mask landed directly on you, not even needing to turn around to know you were the one tailing after him.

“Couldn’t let you freeze to death alone.” You reply with a little smile, taking it as your chance to go ahead and walk -slowly- over to him giving him the privacy to smoke without needing to fuss with keeping his face covered.

By standing just at his back leaning against the wall, he knew right where you were, and it put the weight of conversation on him for the moment. He gave you a gruff sort of sound and took another drag off his cigarette before turning just far enough to offer it to you. You take it from his gloved fingers carefully, licking your lips a little in slight nervousness. This wasn’t the first time he’d offered you a hit, but it was the first time you’d ever actually taken him up on it. Seeing the damp rolling paper on the end made you shiver a little; Hopefully, the cold weather would be a good enough excuse to keep him from recognizing your sudden anxiety around him. Wrapping your lips around it and inhaling, you’re a little more than guilty for noticing the taste of Ghost instead of the vanilla and cherry. With a quick glance to your side, you saw his mask was pulled back down over his mouth and his dark eyes were focused right on you as you blew the smoke out of your mouth and back in through your nose. Attempting to hand it back, he just shakes his head.

“You didn’t come out here to be cold,” He finally broke the silence. “What’d you really want from me?”

No matter how long you spent around Ghost, you never got used to just how miserably direct Ghost could be. Like nothing was truly surprising to him or worth being the least bit delicate over. Even if it concerned someone -like yourself- at least attempting to be a little more discretionary. Yet you sighed and took another drag before tossing the rest of it down on the concrete, putting out the ember with the toe of your boot.

“Were you lying earlier?” Your question falls a little short of confident, giving Ghost the impression right away that you were nervous. For a split second, you thought you saw the phantom of a smile under the cover of his mask before it was quickly hidden back under late-night shadow and white paint. Ghost put his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt and gave a sigh, making more fog swirl around and through the woven material around his mouth. Another thought of what his mouth looked like flashed through your failing mind.

“Why would it matter?”

You licked at your bottom lip, trying to figure out a way to word this without sounding desperate or downright shameless in front of your commanding officer… you shouldn't be thinking about doing this in the first place. So many more bad outcomes could come of this than the one good one. Even then, it was risky. Leaving you a bit dazed and staring at Ghost.

“Asked you a question. I’m expectin’ an answer.” He pressed forward, a slight swagger in his hips as he got closer to you, resting a hand on the wall and tilting his head a little to the side. Damn near mocking you for being so much smaller and easily intimidated. You look down at your boots for a moment, deciding to just put your money where your mouth is and take the hit no matter the outcome.

“If you weren’t lying…” You look up, internally screaming at how heavy his eyes look down on you. “I’d like to try and change your mind.”

A deep chuckle comes from the Lieutenant in response followed by his heavy hand resting on your shoulder, almost totally engulfing it.

“You’re jokin’,” His voice lowered with humor that made you almost shrivel up and die inside. “Why would I let you do that?” You give a frustrated sigh and take a step back away from Ghost. Mentally and physically distancing yourself from the slight Ghost had given you by accident or otherwise.

“Never mind.” You give a short nod and turn on your heel to head back to the hotel room and find somewhere to curl up on the floor or in a bed with someone and try to sleep off your damaged ego.

Yet five steps away from Ghost, you’re stopped short with his arm snaked around your waist tightly and his mouth resting against your ear with a heavy and hot breath fanning against your neck. His palm spreads over your stomach and squeezes almost aggressively at the soft flesh under your shirt. Tall and wide, Ghost yanks your back flush to his chest as a silent threat.

“Don’t fuckin’ walk away from me,” His low growl makes you shiver. “I’m not finished with ya.”

In an instant, you’re spun around and hauled aggressively with your back against the nearest wall with Ghost’s chest holding you from fighting back. His legs limit your ability to try and escape out from under his arms, and while one hand is flat against your chest, the other restricts both your wrists above your head. Breath evacuates your lungs with the sudden shock of your back against the wall, but your eyes are locked on Ghost’s as he glares at you harshly through the wavering mist of his breath in the cold air.

“Now I’ve got you pacified…” His smirk was clear in tone, outright mocking you by pressing those massive thighs tighter against yours. “Let’s continue shall we?” The gloved hand pressed against your heaving chest slides up to grasp firmly at your chin and jerk it up to look him in the eyes.

“Why don’t you be a good little thing and tell me why you think you could change my mind, and maybe… I won’t punish you for talkin’ shit to your superior officer.” He spat loudly, his face less than an inch from yours, eyes flaming with aggression.

“Sorry Lieutenant…” You mutter stiffly through the struggle of his hand against your jaw. “Thought I could do better.” You add a lot weaker, averting your eyes as far from Ghost as you can.

“What was that?” He made dark fun of you, terribly obvious, and downright happy with himself. “Say it again.”

You squirm in his grasp, only to get your wrists slid up higher on the wall and a thigh shoved between your own to lift your feet almost totally off the ground. Toes tapping the ground, Ghost holds you totally of his own power without the slightest effort needed to keep you held right where he wanted you to be.

“Thought I could do better.” You repeat yourself louder, and more clearly, feeling utterly stupid for enduring such pathetic treatment. Only you knew it was your fault for letting such a pipe dream of an idea come to reality by prodding Ghost about his sex life so confidently. The masked man hummed lowly, tilting his head as he inspected your face lighted only by a small sliver of moonlight creeping around the corner of the hallway.

“Better, huh?” Ghost chuckles darkly, this thumb tracing over the bottom curve of your lip carefully. “That’s a lot of confidence for someone so small.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Size has nothing to do with it.”

Ghost barks laughter, grumbling something under his breath before dropping his hand away from your jaw and releasing one of your hands to press against his groin. You can’t miss his meaning from the massive erection pressing back against your hand and twitching impatiently when your Lieutenant squeezes your hand around it tighter. A growl escapes his throat and he looks up at you with almost evil eyes.

“Still think size doesn’t matter, little one?” He questions, one eyebrow raising above the hemline of his mask.

Your mouth falls open in shock. Not only because of the sheer girth of Ghost’s cock pulsing in your hand but realizing that he was actually taking your proposal seriously no matter how aggressive his mockery of you was. It shouldn’t have been so damn surprising when taking into account just how large of a man Ghost is. Surely everything would be proportionate, and his erection was proof of it.

Your face is enough to make Ghost chuckle. “That’s what I thought…”

It’s enough of a dismissal that thaws your speechlessness and throws you right back into the present with enough of the guts to speak up for your own desires.

“I can do it,” You blurt breathlessly, fingers tracing along the curve of Ghost’s dick and earning a lusty growl from him. “I can make it good. I’ll make it fit.” You nod your head feverishly in an attempt to keep your chance open. Ghost’s eyes widen at your desperation and his cock twitches hard in your palm with the sound of your shallow breaths and pleading eyes.

“You want it, huh?” He questions, mask moving like he’s grinning under it.

“Then get on your fuckin’ knees.”

The moment his hands release you, you feel yourself sliding down the wall until your knees make a bruising thud against the concrete floor in front of Ghost. Your hands holding on his thighs without the slightest care that you were standing in the middle of a hotel breezeway where anyone could see you. A weight settled in your lower stomach with the idea of anyone coming out of their room and witnessing such a sight.

“My belt.” Ghost instructs a bit pinched, looking down at you with his chin almost touching his chest.

You’re frantic yet shaking as your hands slide up his thighs and begin pulling his belt loose, hearing that metallic clink as you pull the two sides apart with a watering mouth. No instruction is necessary for you to know where to go next, and as you unbutton his cargo pants, your free hand palms his cock as you pull down just enough of his waistband to expose him but not make him cold. Ghost’s hands help just a little, settling extra material where he prefers it, almost patiently holding up his own hoodie and t-shirt out of your way as you slid your hands under his boxers.

“Fuck…” Ghost mutters quietly, tensing when your fingers wrap around his base and free him from his underwear.

Your thumb smears over his swollen head soft enough to not make him jerk away with sensitivity, and you lick your lips at just how wet his cock already is from sheer anticipation. Hell, you were turned on too, practically dripping in your underwear at the sight of Ghost with nothing but a perfect dick exposed and ready for your mouth. The first lick is a teasing one. Flattening it over his head just because you couldn’t wait to taste him, gathering up his arousal, and making it a point to swallow with your eyes locked right on Ghost’s. You're certain it’s enough to affect him just by the way he grunts and rests both of his hands against the wall behind you to steady himself.

When your lips wrap around his tip and slide down towards his base slowly, you hollow your lips and suck hard. Almost mimicking drinking through a straw with both hands wrapped around his thick base to restrict blood flow, adding to his sensitivity. You feel his feet flex in his boots next to your thighs and another low grunt. It spurs you forward, sinking down further and massaging your tongue on the underside before raising back up to lick at his frenulum and repeating the process with quiet whines each time he’s unable to hold back some sound.

“Shit-” He hisses after no more than a couple of minutes, jerking his hips back away from you and moving your hands out of the way so he could tighten his own fist around his cock with a heaving chest.

He stays like that for a few moments, undoubtedly trying to stave off the pleasure you’d been giving before his eyes meet yours again and they’re downright hungry and raging with fury that you’d brought him so close without any extra fancy moves or those fake moans that porn always showed. With one quick movement, he stepped closer and tilted your head back until it gently rested against the wall behind you, his cock smearing your own spit and his arousal over your open and awaiting mouth.

“You look pretty like this…” He muttered, rubbing his length over your face and tapping it teasingly against your mouth. “You hungry for more?” You’re sticking out your tongue and nodding right away, earning you a tense chuckle and the feeling of Ghost’s dick sliding into your mouth while his hand cushions the back of your head from the wall.

“Let me feed it to ya,” He grunts. “Shove my fat cock in your mouth and fuck your throat..” He adds with a feral sort of sound mixing with an ever-thickening accent.

You moan around his length, feeling your jaw muscles begin to start aching when your nose just barely grazes his pubic bone and his tip touches the back of your throat. He’s thick enough to qualify as the largest you’ve ever experienced, but you’re not the slightest bit concerned about whether he’ll be able to fit. You know he’ll make it fit if nothing else.

And him utterly pounding your throat sounded so hot that you tried pushing further down on his shaft yourself. Eager to feel Ghost as deep in you as possible. Ghost obliges you, and rocks his hips forward slowly, easing his thick head past that ring of pressure at the back of your throat and cursing under his breath when a wet, gurgling sound vibrates around his shaft as you begin swallowing around him.

“Bloody, fuucckk yes…” His groans punch through the quiet air, far louder than he should be risking in such a public space. But he’s only getting started with this experience as your nose presses against his pubic bone, and his hand flattens against the wall.

“So tight… doggin’ me right where anyone can see.”

It’s the thought that had you so eager, and right away you felt just how much it turned Ghost on too. Because the second he said it, he pulled back just a fraction and pushed himself back down your throat, beginning tight and quick thrusts that made your eyes roll back. He kept a furious pace, growling and holding tight to the back of your head until you tapped at the back of his thigh a few times, and he pulled out with a loud grunt, giving you a moment to breathe. You panted, seeing a thick web of spit connecting your mouth and his tip before watching it break and drip down your shirt.

You’re about to tell Ghost… something. But you instantly lose thought of it when he’s bent down with his mask rucked up just far enough to smash his mouth to yours, shoving his tongue in your mouth and practically eating you from the inside out. You can still taste the salty edge of his skin, and it’s almost heady to have his mouth mingling with yours and sharing his arousal between soft moans and heavy breaths. The kiss is long and feverish, but not near long enough before he’s standing back up and stroking his fist up and down his cock right in front of you like an unreal kind of dream somehow coming to life.

“Please.” You mutter a bit hoarse from the rough treatment of your throat, totally unsure of what you really want most. Between his mouth, words, and dick there’s so much more than just one you desired, but at least one of them needed to be delivered to you to attempt satisfaction.

“Open up, little one…” Ghost whispers face re-masked already, and it makes you whine pathetically, having naively believed he’d allow you just one glimpse at the mouth you’d just tasted. “Need to have more of you.” You’re totally happy to resign by leaning your head back against the wall with your tongue wetting your lips in the cold air.

Ghost starts painfully slow, holding your head on both sides of your jaw and teasing his head against your tongue and the textured roof of your mouth; indiscernible words falling from his mouth and his eyes squeezed tightly shut. You would’ve thought it was nothing more than your Lieutenant just taking his pleasure as offered. But the way his thumbs brushed over your cheeks and his fingers would occasionally rub over the stretched muscles in your jaw gave you the feeling that he was well aware of what you were surrendering to him. As well as how thankful he was to have you on your knees, and looking so fucking angelic swallowing and spitting on his dick like a dirty little whore.

“Let me - Wanna…” His rising breaths and steady strokes begin to falter the longer he thrusts inside your mouth, meticulously avoiding forcing himself deeper in disappointment; resulting in your whining and muffled complaints and pleasure. Had his hands not been purposefully holding you back to prolong the session, Ghost probably wouldn’t have lasted this long.

“P-patience…” His stammer made your chest clench in satisfaction. “Don’t - don’t wanna finish in your mouth…”. That breathy comment nearly struck you stiff as concrete.

You couldn’t believe that after this entire ordeal, Ghost was actually trying to end a blowjob without you finishing it the way you honestly believed it should always end. With you swallowing every last fucking drop that the Lieutenant gave you; wearing a goddamn smile bigger than anyone has ever seen. If he hadn’t been lying and head never impressed him, there wasn’t a chance in Hell you were going to let him finish anywhere that wasn’t down your throat. In a split second, you were shaking your head no and pulling back off his cock with a slight gasp.

“No, finish.” It’s the most demanding and certain you’ve sounded all night. “Finish in my mouth, Ghost.”

His eyes say it all.

They’re wide with his pupils blown at impressive dimensions and his thick eyelashes flutter as his shocked expression forces him to blink over and over again to make sense of you. Mouth and chin covered in spit, on your knees, and literally begging him to come in your mouth.

“Goddamn, you’re so fucking filthy…” He mutters aloud, watching intently as you slide back down over him one more time and begin doing what you wanted to from the very beginning.

Bring Ghost to his knees.

It’s a moment before you have him cursing and holding onto the wall with both hands again as you push deeper and deeper until you're teasing the tip of your nose against him yet again. Unwilling to let him pull you off this time or prolong this. Deserving this release was the bare minimum. Not only did you want to provide him ultimate pleasure where no one else had, but you enjoyed every single bit of it. You needed this as much -if not more- than Ghost.

Heavy and twitching in your mouth, Ghost was teetering on the edge of his orgasm with stuttering hips and one hand sliding down to rest on your head. Not pushing this time, just laying at the crown like your movements were too much to feel with only one part of his body. Short pants were cut short by unintelligible words and strained attempts to say what you already knew.

As if giving your final approval of the idea Ghost had found unacceptable, you push him as deep as you could one final time; Hearing his loud shout echo down the breezeway as both of his hands grabbed harshly onto the sides of your head. Pumping stream after stream of his hot release down your throat you moaned deeply, feeling him gently rock his hips against your face as he rode down his high on shaky legs. You gagged a little as he pulled out, feeling your throat begin to burn in an unfamiliar way that had never followed you sharing a moment like this with another man. Only one look at Ghost’s cock right in front of your face was more than enough to reassure you he’d just been the one who gave you enough of a delicious stretch to feel for days to come.

Your eyes met his and a small little shy smile crossed your sore lips, contrasting the absolutely deplorable -and punishable- act you’d ever committed with a superior officer. Wordlessly Ghost tucked himself back into his underwear and neglected to button his pants back up before dropping to a knee right in front of you and pulling up his mask again to brush his lips against yours.

“Want to taste,” He whispered ever-so-softly, hands holding your head gently.

“Need to taste me inside your mouth.” He added, licking your lips before closing the distance between you for a second time. This kiss was still intense. Ghost controlling the pace and just how much dominance you had, which nearly came to zero when he licked into your mouth, groaning shamelessly. He could taste his release coating your mouth as he utterly overwhelmed you with kisses, licks, bites, and more moans that fell like honey on your ears.

You were the first to pull back for a gasp of air you’d gone full minutes without, feeling your own mouth and body beginning to feel a little weak with exhaustion not typical of a well-conditioned soldier like yourself. Your Lieutenant took note right away and rested his head against yours reassuringly, his nose touching yours.

“You’re too cold to be out here like this.” He whispered, pulling your cheek affectionately and wrapping the other arm around you. “Not gonna let you freeze after that.” He chuckled a bit sluggishly, kissing you again long and chaste.

He pulled his mask back down and gave very little effort to pick you up off your knees and into his arms without question or hesitation. Leaving you feeling like a treasured prize he’d won and refused to let out of his sight for more than a moment. Safe and protected, you couldn’t care one bit about the cold nipping through your thin clothes and resting your head against Ghost’s shoulder as he carried you back to the hotel room the 141 had already retired for the night in.

Expertly avoiding Soap and Gaz laying on couch cushions on the floor and covered with extra bedsheets, sliding around Price’s bed without bumping it, all while carrying you Ghost sat you down on the edge of the bed he’d been keen to claim as his own right when you’d arrived. You were nearly asleep just sitting there when he unlaced your boots enough to tug them off, pulled your shirt off over your head, and replaced it with one of his hoodies. Finally, he takes off your pants and nods for you to move up to the top of the bed, acting just as he would normally. But as he climbed into the bed next to you and tugged you back against him tightly, you realized you’d gotten a lot more than you bargained for.

Sure you might’ve changed Ghost’s mind about getting head… but you weren’t finished yet. Because Ghost was curling his arm around your waist and burying his masked face in between your shoulder blades like cuddling with you at night was the usual way of things. His fingers innocently traced the waistband of your underwear, and he radiated body heat that melted away the fringe sensations of cold on your body easily.

“I’ve made a decision,” He whispers very quietly so as not to wake the others. And you wiggle back a little closer to him, nodding your head as a silent acknowledgment for him to go on. Expecting him to say that you did -in fact- change his mind about getting blown.

“You’re mine now.”

Comments & Reblogs are Appreciated

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod #cod mwii #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #velvetures writes #velvetures

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sketchingstars03 · 9 months

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Protection VS Destruction

A furiously protective father vs the killer of anomalies

Anomalies like… little Splatter?

Wait… is her soul… human?? But… she’s a monster…?

This truly is a central conflict for a story

Ink is by Comyet

Error is by loverofpiggies Aka Crayon Queen

and we all know who created Splatter by now I think ;3

Some further rambles under the cut 👀

Alrighty, so! As stated about this art shows one of if not The main conflict of Splattertale, with the reveal of our main antagonist, Error!

Because ofc no Ink-Centric story is complete without Error as an antagonistic force of SOME kind.

I kid, there are obviously options where he’s not lol.

But yeah. Also he’s not really a villain here he’s just, opposed to the protagonists. Which makes him an antagonist! Because he… wants to kill Ink’s kid for being a glitch… Okay maybe that’s a BIT villainous, but he’s just doing his job! It’s nothing personal… right Ink? Right… ?

Also I know Ink looks SUPER pissed off and protective here but I wanna make it clear he DOESN’T hate Error in this story. Has some.. complicated feelings about him (None of them romantic, Sorry-not-sorry ErrorInk fans, I’m just not into it), but none of them are Hatred. In fact he’s tried to befriend Error several times in the past! Though that can’t exactly work out now… (trying to hunt down someone’s kid to delete them for being a “mistake” kinda puts a damper on your potential friendship with them :/)

Splatter’s soul is indeed a human soul. How this is possible I will explain later, but for now just know that her creation isn’t exactly natural. It’s devoid of any trait, which is why it’s white like a monster soul, and has very low DETERMINATION for a soul of its type. Still way more than a monster soul can have, but low for a human’s.

Being a “freak of nature” like that has landed her quite on Error’s list of “Things to Destroy”

This drawing also features my personal interpretation of the Doodlesphere! I sorta combined the two canon versions, the Floating Islands and Buckets. The Splattertale-verse Doodlesphere is comprised of floating islands that hold deep lakes of paint as entry points into the respective AUs. Each island is decorated with items that represent the AU it leads to!

With this in mind, try and guess which AU is which ;3

…

okay I’m gonna give the answers anyway

We’ve got Underswap (specifically Star Sanses Blue’s underswap)

Underfell right behind Ink

XTale in the top right

Outertale in the distance near where XTale is

and Dreamtale on the bottom left!

The appearance of the island also reflects the state of the AU, hence why Xtale is cracked and leaking (because of its destruction), and why Dreamtale looks so dull. With its stump of a tree and unbalanced paint-lake (it used to be a beautiful mix of yellow and purple)

So yeah, I think that’s all I have to say abt this piece for now! Don’t worry I’m gonna elaborate on these little lore bits in time! This entire story rotates in my brain like it’s in a microwave on a daily basis lmao

Hope you like it! :3 (And thank you if you read this far!)

#splattertale #splatterutmv #ink sans #error sans #utmv #undertale au #utmv oc #undertale au story #sketchingstars art #error stop trying to murder your rival’s daughter challenge (difficulty: impossible)#dw he hasn’t succeeded… so far…#I think I’ve said enough about that for now #I hope to share more lore soon!!#splatterverse lore #bapy sploot #st ink #st error

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vanillavengeance · 6 months

Note

mystic malfunction is on my mind again and i've been thinking about how funny it'd be if mikey hijacked a training session and taught everyone Lou Jitsu style (à la fish and ladders). ik Splinter's already been trying to make it a little more interesting for Mikey, but maybe it's the day after a particularly sour mission and he's like "yknow what? okay let's do it Orange's way today, just for a bit of a change of pace. lighten the mood a bit." the 2012 boys learn a very structured style, which is def useful (like when Mikey was fighting Shredder), but the 2018 boys are way more used to improvising and using their surroundings in non-traditional ways - particularly Mikey. i think it'd be really interesting to see how the 2012 boys would fare trying to fight in that style, and if they'd use it in future! anyway. the image of Mikey chasing them all around with an improvised household appliance weapon is EXTREMELY amusing to me, along with seeing Splinter's reaction when Mikey informs him that this was how they first learned how to properly fight. I think he'd go through all the stages of grief, but it'd definitely help him understand Mikey's lack of interest in regular training. anyway back to rotating your fic around in my mind like a microwave <3

Oh, I love this idea. Here, have an unedited ficlet I wrote in my notes app quick lol.

==========

Mikey vibrated with excitement, Splinter amused beside him while the others cautiously filtered into the dojo.

Splinter had seen how he’d struggled during regular training and after a small talk about why that might be, he’d allowed Mikey to run his own session to see exactly how the teaching styles differed. Both for Splinters own curiosity and to provide a different, more improvised kind of training so the others didn’t fall too much of a routine.

“So, how many different death traps are in here?” Raphael asks. Michelangelo is attempting to hide behind him but Raphael keeps pushing him away. “And where is one of them so Mike can be distracted by something else—“

“No death traps!” Mikey confirms. The others still look around cautiously as they come to stand in front of him. “I’m gonna show you the kind of training I got from Dad back home!”

The turtles share a disbelieving look, glancing towards Splinter who merely nods in confirmation.

“That’s…great,” Leonardo says slowly. “I suppose we could spice things up a bit.”

“You betcha!” Mikey exclaims. The turtles share one last confirming glance with Splinter before falling into their training stances and pulling out their weapons.

Mikey’s grin grows. “Nuh uh, nope,” he says, rolling onto his heels and thoroughly enjoying their confusion. “Won’t need those.”

Splinter turns to him in curiosity while the other look on in slight terror. Regardless, they lower their weapons to the ground in front of them and wait for Mikey to continue.

Oh, this is going to be fun.

—————

“That’s not how you use a toaster!” Donatello screeches, lunging away from the flying toaster Michelangelo threw by the cord like a flail.

“That’s exactly how you use it!” Mikey encourages from the sidelines. His alternate sends him a bright thumbs up before his head is promptly smacked to the ground by the lamp Raphael wields.

“How on Earth are you still alive if this is how your Master Splinter trained you!?” Leonardo exclaims, hurriedly blocking Raphael’s next lamp strike with his couch cushion. “This isn’t what training is supposed to be!”

“Sure it is! You just have to get creative! I don’t see Michelangelo complaining!” His alternate groans from the floor and he immediately backtracks. “Not about the training anyway!”

The chaos quickly resumed with Raphael going on a rampage with his lamp and the others scrambling out of the way with their other improvised weapons.

Mikey beams up a smile to Splinter who pinches his brow with eyes shut tight, taking deep breaths.

“I…understand your frustration with my teaching methods, now,” Splinter grumbles, watching with tired eyes as Raphael gets a whack to the face from Leonardo’s cushion.

Mikey launches to his feet, not being able to help himself anymore. Without any warning he grabs the closets of the many household items he gathered before starting. His hands adjust around the pens he grabbed, fashioning them into claws between his fingers, before jumping into the fray and straight towards a panicked Donatello.

They’re nowhere near prepared for all the razz-ma-tazz he’s about to unleash.

==========

Hehehe ❤️

#mystic malfunction #rottmnt #tmnt 2012 #rottmnt mikey #rise of tmnt #tmnt #rise of the tmnt #ficlet #I love that image lol #and since I can’t really add it in now it goes here #whether it’s canon or not to the story I’ll leave up to interpretation ;)

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sighs-deeply-and-dreadfully · 1 year

Text

,,, so, I’m being self indulgent,,,,,,,,,, haha!!

This isn’t a request! Just me being silly! :]

Love Languages

Wally Darling Love Language Headcanons, no assigned reader!

Headcanons format, not super specified romantic or platonic, so envision it as you please!

Honestly, I truly dearly envision Wally to have quality time, gift giving, and physical touch as love languages. Like, so dearly truly so, haha!!

I feel he’s the type to simply just.. hand a gift to someone. Randomly.

“What’s this?” “A gift!” “Is.. is this a bent paperclip?-“ “No, it’s a gift!”

I feel he tries to get personalized gifts, but— ah, he’s a bit silly, haha!! I feel sometimes it’d backfire, and his train of thought as to why this was the absolute most perfectest gift tends to twirl too much in his little apple shaped brain— to where it kind of just.. doesn’t make sense.

But a gift is a gift!!!! It’s the thought that counts!

As for physical touch, I believe he’s still learning it, haha! If I recall correctly, Clown mentioned he just goes limp upon being hugged— but I could be remembering wrong!

Either way, he can be instructed! He will figure it out! Even if sometimes it backfires, like his constant blowing of kisses (also mentioned by Clown!) !!

He strikes me as the type to just.. want to use someone as a pillow.

They’re just, sitting, minding their business, and suddenly he’s just.. at their side. Pillow……..

I think he’d like to hold hands. I think he’d just like hands in general. Maybe this is a smidge of self projection, but I’m an artist that loves hands. dearly so. I find their structure really interesting!! I feel he’s similar.

I think he’d just like to hold someone’s hand and look at it and how it moves. That’s real intimacy right there, folks!!! /lhj

If someone were to try and interlock their fingers with his, whether platonically or romantically, I think he’d just stare. Processing… until he gets it!

Don’t expect to be getting that hand back anytime soon, friend! That isn’t your hand, anymore! It’s our hand.

Overall, I feel he wouldn’t express physical affection in any normal way. I feel cuddling and the hand stuff is the closest exception, but other than that?

I think he’d just lay on someone. Like, you have yours legs sprawled out? Ahh, what a lovely hammock!

Are you laying on your stomach? Ahh, what a lovely pillow!

He just kind of.. compresses on impact. Pillow.

Gift that man a weighted blanket and I think he’d know peace. True peace.

I think just laying on him would content him, too, HAHA

He strikes me as the ‘likes physical pressure as affection’ kind

Also plays into quality time!!!

But, for the most part, quality time can just be spent in many ways.

Hanging out and chatting, doing your own individual activities in the same room, sleeping around each other,,, squeeshy

He just takes being in the presence of someone for a while as quality time, and he feels very grateful for his friends when he does <33

Just a silly little guy:)

Might be projection again, but I feel he struggles to express his affection in an easily digestible way— so just? Understanding his love languages and what counts as affection on his end? Is so delightful and appreciated

ESPECIALLY if it’s reciprocated

I feel how he feels loved, in return, are the same ones!!! Along with words of affirmation!! Squenshy

Bon appetite (???) HAHAH

I’m somewhat half awake, this has just been rotating in my brain like a microwave plate, so don’t mind any grammatical errors! I’ll fix them laterrrrrrrr

#wally darling #wally darling x reader #welcome home arg #welcome home #welcome home wally darling #Headcanons #love languages #not requested #I am just silly!!

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disdaidal · 3 months

Note

Touch starved roommates, touch starved ROOMMATES!

Oh 🙊 This is one of my favorite tropes, honestly. I've also loved writing this one (even if it's not a ST ship, but anyway).

This turned out a bit long (I was supposed to post a small snippet only) but oh well:

—

Slowly, Cloud started running his long, slender fingers through Zack's hair again. Massaging the scalp underneath with gentle, rotating motions. The blond tried his best not to gawk at his gorgeous raven-haired friend whose head rested comfortably on his lap. Bright blue eyes speckled with mako green, half-lidded and hazy—long dark eyelashes spread like a curtain around them—, stirring prettily every time Cloud's fingers hit the spot. Cloud bit his lower lip and barely held back a whine when Zack's eyes closed, and the other man suddenly hummed deep and low in his throat. A sound which vibrated deep within his chest, and came out less like a sigh and more like a small moan. If Cloud didn't know any better, he could've sworn this moment between them had slowly turned almost... erotic. The thought alone made him swoon, just a little bit. His mind had quickly drifted off somewhere else for a moment—to a land far, far away filled with dreams and inappropriate desires regarding his best friend slash roommate—that Cloud knew he should not even consider doing, let alone be thinking of. Deep in thought, swirling through a hot daydream, Cloud's hands had gradually stalled over Zack’s head. His mind spiraling out of control and entering an unknown territory, that felt both strange and good; far better than his reality. His head spun, his ears rang with the blood rushing through them, and his chest suddenly constricted with emotions and desires that couldn't be unleashed, so he kept them safely locked inside his mind instead. That is until a snap of fingers interrupted him. Cruelly pulling and dragging him away from that sweet, sweet, hot daydream, that made him feel so happy and safe for a moment. Away in a dream. Cloud blinked dumbly. His big, baby blue eyes all wide and confused. "Huh?" And there it was again. That wide, playful grin that Zack used whenever he was flirty—with Cloud, or just anyone, really. The corners of his eyes wrinkled with joy while his turquoise eyes glinted and sparkled with this sudden, self-satisfied mischief.

"Where were you? You kind of zoned out for a bit," Zack asked, smirking. "Were you daydreaming about me?" Cloud's face burned. He looked away, not wanting to witness that stupid, smug grin plastered on Zack's stupid, smug handsome face, that Cloud had become all too familiar with and knew like the back of his hand. Unlike Zack, Cloud was painfully shy on most days, and his cocky roommate love to tease him and make him blush.

Cloud wouldn't give him that satisfaction. Not today, not now. “Don’t be ridiculous, Zack. Why would I ever daydream about you?” “Hmm, let me see...” Zack put a finger on his lower lip, pretending to look thoughtful there for a moment. Cloud considered punching him just for that. “Oh, I know! Cause I’m hot, irresistible and funny?" "Umm, how about modest?" Zack hummed, casually and unironically, and continued, "'Without me, your life would be lonely, boring and miserable. 'Cause you're not exactly a people person, Cloud; you don't actually go out and put effort into making new friends and connections, so that's where I come in. I bring them here and take us to all these cool parties, so you won't have to sit here alone and die of boredom. Also, not to be mean or anything but you can't cook to save your life. Like, seriously, dude. You lived off of microwave foods and energy drinks for months until this one mysterious, handsome chef moved in, took over your kitchen and saved your day. And every single day he cooks you these nice, delicious meals completely free of charge and out of the goodness of his pure heart because he likes to see you full and happy. So... you're welcome, babe."

Cloud rolled his eyes and wanted to argue that there was absolutely nothing mysterious about Zack. But his lips had already quirked at his friend's words, instantly betraying his delicate, quickly crumbling facade. It hadn't gone unnoticed by Zack whose victorious grin only seemed deepen at this quiet admission. Zack wiggled his eyebrows stupidly, and Cloud could only snort fondly and shake his head at him. This guy. “You’re so full of yourself. You know that, right?” “But I’m not wrong, am I? You'd miss me, terribly.”

#replies #ihni #wip ask game #zakkura #clack #i've fallen into this little rabbit hole #i just love their dynamic so much okay #my writing

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zooophagous · 1 year

Text

Artemis politely stirred her usual copious heap of sugar into her already milky coffee. Strauss sat beside her, close enough that their legs were touching. It was as close as he could politely get in mixed company. If he were to seek out further contact (however desperately he currently wanted it) it may arouse suspicion.

Truthfully, even sitting close enough to touch was a bit of a bold move with Ursula in the room. She sat near Vicar Martin, and handed him a mug of microwaved water with a cheap teabag in it. She didn’t offer him milk or sugar. He would drink it and like it.

The Vicar didn’t seem to mind. He was distracted. Not only by sitting so close to a vampire, but also by the clear plastic small animal carrier filled with white mice. They scurried over each other and around in small circles in their holding cell on the coffee table. He glanced at them curiously, and then back up to Artemis and Strauss.

“Is it prudent for Dr. Strauss to sit in on this if he’s technically a suspect?”

“It is our policy not to deprive Herr Strauss of any information pertinent to his stay at the Institute. It’s best he hears it first hand to avoid confusion.” She said with a smile.

“I see. Do the…mice need to be present?”

“They are my emotional support animals.” Strauss replied tonelessly.

“Alright then.”

Ursula let out a quiet snort of mocking laughter and sipped her watery tea. “Alright then, Martin. Since you’ve already let the cat out of the bag, go ahead and elaborate. If I’m going to help you with this investigation I need the where, the who, the what, all of it in excruciating detail.”

“This man has a cat in a bag?” Strauss tilted his head.

“It means to share something that was a secret.” Artemis replied, leaning into him.

“Actually, Ursula, I will have to respectfully decline your help for the moment. I’m trusting you not to run your mouth or do anything stupid with this information. You aren’t supposed to have it yet.” The vicar replied, taking a nervous sip of his weak tea.

“Nonsense. You can’t just tell me there’s been a vampire implicated murder ON MY HOME TURF and expect me to just sit here with the whole weight of the Van Helsing-”

“You will do nothing and say nothing until the official letters have been sent.” Vicar Martin said firmly.

Ursula huffed and puffed and crossed her arms in indignant silence. Artemis set down her coffee and folded her hands in her lap.

“We will of course follow proper protocol. We just want to be prepared to move in an instant. Can you let us know what’s wrong?”

“Yes. Well. There has been a murder.”

“Mmm. Yes. You mentioned.” Strauss replied languidly, and opened the little container of mice to scoop one into his claw. He let it climb over his fingers and rotated his hand to keep up with its movements.

“...Yes. A murder. Of course, if that’s all it was, we wouldn’t be here auditing you. This victim had a series of very particular injuries. Injuries consistent with what we would expect from-”

-CRUNCH-

The vicar paused. Strauss made an awful sound as he finished off his mouse, and graciously deposited the desiccated remains of the bloodless prey item into a napkin that he folded into his lap.

Ursula pinched the bridge of her nose. Martin gagged.

“I thought… those were emotional support animals?”

“I am an emotional eater.” Strauss replied flatly.

“Is that really necessary.”

“It is my feeding time. If you do not want to witness it, do not interrupt my schedule.”

Martin looked down and away and staunchly decided to continue. “Anyways. As I was saying before your friend decided to demonstrate for us, the injuries of the deceased are consistent with a vampire attack.”

Artemis leaned forward looking concerned. “These are very serious accusations. Can you be more specific?”

“Yes. The victim in this case was a young man. A healthy young man in his prime. He was found down by the banks of the river about four days ago. He appears to have died of a fatal stabbing to his neck. But that’s not all that was wrong with him. He had bruising consistent with being held by his wrists, a broken vertebrae, and most notably, he had been very nearly entirely drained of blood.”

“This may be a stupid question, but the blood is… missing, right? Not just spilled all over the scene?”

“It is presumed missing. We ah… aren’t sure just yet if the deceased was killed where he was found. His clothes did not have any blood on them.”

“Where did you find him?”

“The remains were discovered in Gooseberry Mound Park, near where the large storm drain tunnel opens into the river bed. Unfortunately this park is very well populated and he was found by a family with young children.”

Strauss frowned and reached for another mouse. “Out in an open area like that, if he was killed there, it must have occurred late at night, if there were no witnesses. What could have lured him to that place at that time?”

He idly stroked the small white mouse in his claw. “Or perhaps he was dragged.”

“Like I said, we aren’t sure. But the time frame in which he may have been killed was another sign it may be vampire activity. Along with the severe neck injuries that seemed to be caused by a pair of bare hands- This was not a small man. Like I said he was young, athletic, in his prime-”

-CRUNCH-

Strauss consumed his second mouse. He draped over the chair and folded one long leg over the other while tilting his head, pondering deep thoughts with the pink tail hanging from his mouth. He pulled it out by the tail and placed it in the napkin with the other spent carcass.

Vicar Martin blanched, and gagged again. “Can you please stop doing that?”

“Do we know anything about the victim? About who he was?” Strauss asked and completely ignored Martin’s discomfort and request.

“Not yet, it’s pending notification of next of kin. I cannot give you a name but suffice to say we know he was a student and that people are already looking for him.”

“So, not some random drifter, or some runaway that would not be missed. It is an unorthodox target for a vampire that is hunting for subsistence. Perhaps this was something personal.”

“That’s why we needed to interview you. There are very few vampires here we know of, and you’re the only one it’s really at all convenient to talk to.”

“Convenient to talk to? That may be the nicest thing you’ve said about me.”

“More convenient than trying to talk to Miss Pietra.” The Vicar muttered quietly.

Artemis cleared her throat. “I take it she’s the true prime suspect here.”

“Regrettably so. Unless there’s some new rogue entity stalking this fair city- but honestly they would be very stupid to set up shop next door to your group.”

“Unless they want to be caught.” Strauss shrugged.

“Did you want to be caught, Mr. Strauss?”

“Doctor Strauss.” Strauss replied darkly, with the emphasis on ‘doctor.’

“And, if you must know, no. I did not want to be caught. If you ask, Frau Harker can tell you I resisted and was quite a pest for quite some time. This conversation however, is not about me. Unless you still consider me some kind of suspect.”

“Well, you’re going to stay a suspect until the real perpetrator is caught, I’m afraid. I don’t think you did it, and I’ll say so in my report, but despite whatever preconceived notions you have about me, Doctor Strauss, I’m not the sole arbiter of your fate.”

Martin leaned in with an earnest expression. “Nor am I your enemy.”

“Is Herr Cunningham included in your list of suspects?”

“The lycanthrope? No. This profile doesn’t match for lycanthropy at all.”

“So you aren’t going to bother him, then?”

“No. Not unless you think I should.”

Strauss visibly relaxed back into the couch. “No. I am satisfied with that answer. He has been through enough on account of vampires.”

“Haven’t we all?” Ursula rolled her eyes. “I appreciate your candor with the Institute, Vicar Martin. Let me know as soon as I am clear to mobilize and your investigation will have the full power of the Van Helsing Institute behind it.”

“Many thanks, Ms. Harker. Let me know if you see or hear anything you think might be pertinent. And… as much as I hate to say this. Doctor Strauss, you should consider remaining on a curfew at this time. If you absolutely must leave the Institute, bring several witnesses and if possible a gps system of some kind. If anything else happens the church will want absolute proof you are not involved.”

Strauss nodded and got up and approached Vicar Martin to shake hands. “Vielen dank, Herr Martin. Do not worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

Martin shook Strauss’ hand, and felt something pressed into his palm. Strauss walked off, leaving the vicar with a folded napkin containing the husks of two spent mice. While Ursula saw to the shaken stranger, Artemis followed Strauss down the hall.

“What are your thoughts about all of this?”

“It is quite complex. Also quite fishy. That is the word in English, yes? The situation does not smell right.”

“Correct. And yes, I agree. It’s an awful situation but I can’t help but feel like the profile is off.”

“I want to see this crime scene. I want to see the evidence for myself.”

“Do you really think that’s wise?”

“Perhaps I can help. It ‘takes one to know one,’ as you’ve said before.”

“Maybe. It’s going to be a hard sell, though, getting you access to that information.”

“Yes, and it has a high potential to blow up in my face. But…”

“But we have to do something.”

“Right. I have an idea of where to begin, that does not require cooperation from the authorities. But, you will not like it.”

“What’s your idea?”

“I need to speak to Sylvain.”

#wayward souls #writing

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sparticus2000art · 12 days

Text

I finally got the time to properly draw it!

Here’s Eclipse!sans, inspired by @llamagoddessofficial

I did ended up drawing both outfits because I couldn’t decide between the two (though I think I slightly prefer the first one). Maybe they just have a varied wardrobe.

I’m low key rotating him in my mind like he’s in the microwave …

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